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astarab1aze · 1 month

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🩵 lounie tunesssss

muse relationship headcanon game

who curses more?

well, as far as i know, they both cuss a lot, but loux's gotta take the cake on this one. sometimes, every other word out of his mouth, literally, is fuck or some variation of, and he says shit like it's going out of style. like that one song by blink-182? that's ya boi, poppin' off at the mouth.

who is more patient?

i feel like.......loux....loux is more patient than loni. no no, i think about it, and how this man is willing to wait FORTY YEARS to be with her. forty years, turbo. forty. he waits. that is the longest any of my muses have ever waited for anyone or really even anything (hydre doesn't count >:/). he is a man determination, commitment, and sheer fuckin' will--

who does the driving?

loni 100%. loux can't drive and she shouldn't let him....ever.

who is louder? who is quieter?

i think they're about matched. they both can be quiet, both can be loud, and it seems to pan out at about a 50/50 imo. they just shake hands and dance to dirty r&b songs on this point, and i love that for them.

who is more physically affectionate?

this seems to be another both of them thing, but i'd still venture to say loux far surpasses her in this respect. he's always got his hands on her in some way, always kissing on her, holding her, just - touching her constantly, maybe even to the point of it being annoying. that's his wife, she can live with being wanted and desired 24/7 🙄

who is more likely to tease the other?

i think they're equally likely to tease each other, one more...flagrantly sexually than the other, but-- boffum, m8. you know as well as i do how bad they can get too uwu

who is better with time management?

both of them are good about it, empirically. loux has the benefit of fancy magical tools that can sort of bend time and space for him to get anywhere at a moment's notice, so he's maybe just faster, but i'd think it's pretty fair to say they manage their time well. i don't see either one of them being late on anything, literally ever. and in the offchance they are late to something, it's because loux got a little too handsy lbr

who wins the arm wrestling matches?

loni, hands down. not because loux lets her win, not because he's weak, because never. mans is too competitive to just let anyone do anything skjdfhs but genuinely i do think loni beats him out here, cos he's not as muscular as she is and he's a good sportsman. without all his magic, using only his physical strength - loses to his wife, who is stronger than him.

who controls the music in the car ride?

loux and loni share music, so it doesn't matter. i fully headcanon this.

who covers dinner when they order in?

loni would insist, i'm sure of it, and loux would fight her on it. he will absolutely not let her pay for dinner. he is so determined to be a provider and a protector in his own way, he just - will not. he already paid, in fact, with cash because they used his phone to order. i am telling you, turbo. they're just gonna have to fight over this until they're old godly bitties in the sky. not sorry uwu

who is more outgoing? who is more shy?

loux is the most outgoing. he's an idiot, but he's truly a social butterfly, life of the party, fratboy ringleader, class clown type of guy. loni's the shier one, of the two, for sure. i think? that sounds right to me. loux's here to do backflips and steal the show (which includes taking all the heat, too)

who has the more outlandish fashion sense?

loux. i have an entire pinterest board to prove it...! you cannot tell me loni has anything in her closet that could top loux's >:U

who starts the tickle fights? who ends them?

HMMMM loux, then loni. but then also loni, then loux.

who has the darker/more "edgy" sense of humor?

loux, hands down. i don't think i need to elaborate here ksjdfhsd but i do think he'd make a few jokes that'd piss loni off or disgust her.

who is more competitive when it comes to games?

i think it's a toss-up here, although i don't really imagine them playing video games together. maybe some ddr at the local arcade on a date or two? otherwise the 'games' they're playing are probably in the bedroom--

who has the bigger appetite? the bigger sweet tooth?

i'm...admittedly not sure. loux eats and could put away a mountain of food, but i don't think his appetite is really all there. he loves to cook though, so he ends up eating somewhat regularly anyway, but he has a generally low appetite, i think. oh but he loves sweets. loves sweets. and is more than happy to share with loni.

who is more likely to get in a confrontation in public?

i'm calling it 50/50 here because loux'll throw down with anybody over nothing and loni is a tough cookie who don' take no shit. 1+1=2 for me, mhmm.

who hosts the parties/hangouts? who organizes them?

loux doesn't party as much as anyone thinks. he just shows up, sells the goods, does a little, and nopes out. hangouts are different - he is literally up her ass right now begging for a date tomorrow lbr. loux. but also loni does too... loux is just insane about her so naturally--

who is better at cooking? do they ever cook for each other?

loni is not allowed in his kitchen except to sit there and look pretty and taste what he makes. she will find a way to burn water and mans can't have his etoufee fucked up. he loves her, of course, but girl do not even think about filling a pot with water. loux's a perfectionist, unfortunately, when it comes to food and he can be such a brat about it too.

who is more likely to engage in dangerous and/or illegal behavior?

they both are, but loux moreso, i think. i mean, he's got a rap sheet a mile long. :I from public indecency to capital murder and just about everything in between. he loves breaking the law, and killing people, and hustling, and committing fraud, tax evasion, theft, torture, more murder, arson... okay, i shouldn't say he loves it because he doesn't actually, but it is all very fun for him.

who is more likely to notice when something is wrong with the other?

thaaaat really depends. they're both very sensitive to each other in their own ways, be it emotionally or sensorily. like loux would notice right away if something physical was wrong with loni, and he's usually pretty good about the emotional stuff even if he is a little unconventional or A Lot about it. i think loni would be able to tell right away if something was wrong with loux physically, but maybe not emotionally since he locks his shit all the way down and it's usually hard to tell how he's actually feeling without him physically expressing it. um, something like that?

who does the talking in public settings (i.e. to the waiter at a restaurant)?

i feel like they'd take turns. loux getting to be a gentleman sometimes, loni getting to be the proverbial 'daddy' other times. they defend each other, they speech together, they sing together, they yell at people together, literally prove me wrONG TURBO

who is more likely to extend a helping hand & provide emotional support?

uh, emotional support? maybe loni. loux will probably default to physical stuff and small conversation before he approaches the meat. it's just how he is. this could change over time to be more even between the two, though.

who is the bigger prankster? do they get the last laugh or do they suffer for it?

loux, and he gets the last laugh. he also suffers dearly for it. marriage :sparkles: uwu

#☿ || Asks.#✘ // Lounie Tunes; Loni.#maljefe #/ let me know if i'm wrong on some of these but also you can't change my mind on others skjdhfsd #/ idk i love them

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grimgrinnr · 1 year

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God, getting to post about Sonic just lets me finally talk about something I’ve been thinking about lately

I absolutely plan on bringing that multi blog back from the dead, and ofc I’ll share the promo around here when it comes time to do that. So I just keep thinking about what it’d be like for him and other characters to interact with the Hazbin-Helluva characters

Sonic and his carefree nature. His unending optimism. His compassion for others but unwillingness to allow injustice go unpunished or uncorrected. His willingness to do what’s right no matter what, even if it means being seen as a villain in the eyes of other people. His ability to own up to any mistakes he’s made and correct them, especially being tricked by a villain into doing something he thought was right. How he’s willing to help people who need it, but is also willing to put down a threat that’s proven it refuses to change or reform already.

Shadow and his assuredness of himself. His refusal to allow harm to befall the innocent, no matter what. His willingness to do anything that is needed to get what he wants. His blunt but kindhearted nature. His solemn acceptance of his tragic past and refusal to let it define him anymore. His refusal to be anyone’s monster or weapon again. How he is willing to fight the entire world if he has to. His deep compassion for those he cares for, and hot headed competition for those he views as worth.

But most of all

Doctor Eggman and his unstoppable ego. His refusal to give up, to ever let anyone beat him. His incredible genius. His sadism. His goofy antics, names, and designs. The fact he his still human despite all of his evil and sadism, that he knows what he does is evil and horrific but loves to do it anyway. The fact he can outsmart anyone, can manipulate anything. He blew open the planet twice, he harnessed the power of a god for his plans twice. He nearly conquered the world in three months and still got back up when he was knocked down.

Can you just imagine these characters interacting with the Hazbin/Helluva cast. How they contrast, how they connect. The views they’d bring and change. The way Sonic would help people even in spite of their sins. How Shadow wouldn’t hesitate to point out when someone’s fucked up badly, or fight for someone who deserves to it. And how Eggman would see the entirety of Hell and just see it as an opportunity to expand his empire to even greater heights. No care for the afterlife, his fellow man, or anything else.

God I’m so autistic about this fucking series-

#text post #Off Air (ooc)#(i spent too long writing this)#(none of it makes sense)#(it felt good to write tho alsdhgoerhg)#(i didn't even have eggman icons on hand i just had to make one on the spot for this post)#(anyways eggman could body the overlords send tweet)

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smokeybrandreviews · 9 months

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Lowered Expectations

If you know me, you know I shill hard for all things Star Wars. This blog is riddled with so much Star Wars content, it’s absurd. While I consider myself a fan of the greater universe, I’d be lying if I said my adoration didn’t start with Darth Vader. For me, he was this ominous, overpowering, force of nature who just embarrassed anyone willing, or dumb enough, to stand in his way. Then the prequels happened and we were introduced to Anakin Skywalker; A Vader before Vader. Those films sucked, with the exception of the last hour or so of the third, but it gave me a version of Vader i didn't think I'd ever see and i wanted so much more. Thankfully, Clone Wars redeemed those films and introduced my second favorite character in the entire series, Ahsoka Tano. Like most fans, I hated this kid so much in the beginning but, as the show progressed, Ahsoka became, arguably, the most developed character in the entire franchise and number two on my list. It helped tremendously that number one was her Master and their dynamic was pure, serotonin inducing, joy. And then things went bad. Anakin was Destroyed. Vader was created. Ahsoka was lost. That sh*t hurt. I never lost hope in seeing Snips again and Filoni rewarded my faith with her appearance in Rebels, and then again in Mando. The second they announce Ms. Tano was going to get her own series, i was all over it. Well, Ahsoka has finally dropped and I am decidedly meh about it.

After three episodes, I find myself at an impasse. It’s more confliction than anything. I was never a huge fan of Rebels but I didn't outright hate the show like a lot of the fandom. There were aspects i enjoyed, Ezra was not one of them, but Sabine Wren, is. Officially adding her to the Disaster Lineage by making her Ahsoka’s Padawan is everything to my Imperial heart. It makes so much sense that it would be Sabine, basically a Mando version of Ahsoka, herself, who would end up being Ahsoka's first student. Witnessing Snips make the same faces as Skyguy when her own Padawan does the same reckless sh*t she did when she was a Padawan, is just perfect. So why don’t i like this show more? I mean, if we’re being perfectly honest, this thing is tailor-made for me. The titular characters is basically my second favorite of the entire franchise, continuing her exceptional development in what has turned out to be the most gorgeous of the Star Wars serials. It focuses on Jedi and the force, aspects that always draw me in. There’s promise of an Anakin sighting in an interaction with an adult Snips, which I have wanted since Rosario first popped up on screen in that orange body paint. And, most important, this sh*t is a straight up adaption of Heir to the Empire. Obviously, it's going the way of “inspired by” but still, we're talking Thrawn and maybe Mara Jade. I Should absolutely adore this show so why am i so goddamn lukewarm?

I don't have an answer and that bugs the f*ck out of me. It's not Star Wars fatigue because there's no way i would get tired of sci-fi wizard having telekinetic laser sword fights ins space. That sentence just kills. It's not the performances because, even though everyone says they're wooden, they didn't seem that way to me. They seemed aloof and stoic; The way all those powerful in the force act. I already mentioned how gorgeous the show looks, you see every penny on screen, and even the practical sh*t looks really great. I mean, look at Hera's leku. They blend that obvious headpiece perfectly on to MEW's head. Speaking of, Mary Elizabeth Winstead is just another stroke of inspired casting after Rosario's Ahsoka, Natasha Liu Bordizzo's Sabine, and Lars Mikkelsen's Thrawn. I've heard grumblings that this has too much “GUUURL power” but I've never subscribed to that. The Force has always been Female and cats just need to get over that sh*t. I mean, Abeloth, the most powerful force entity in the entity of Legends, presents female so, you know, there's that. The pacing didn't bother me either but I'm a fan and enjoy the exposition and easter eggs. Again, tailor-made for me. This sh*t should have been an easy win for someone like me and it's not. Like, it's not a bad show and I am enjoying it, but this thing is definitely missing something and I cannot, for the life of me, put my finger on it.

#Ahsoka #Star Wars #Star Wars: Ahsoka #Lucasfilm #Some ol' bullsh*t

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smokeybrand · 9 months

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Lowered Expectations

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pasttorn · 5 years

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URL RESPONSES ! ⟡ NOT ACCEPTING !

@moonchains said: my url !

DO I FOLLOW THEM ? WHY ? - of course ! ! of fucking course ! ! ! i’ve got a mega bad memory but i think i was the one who followed first ? ? i’m always mega happy to see new upper moon blogs / demon blogs around in general so i wouldn’t doubt it if i saw them floating around & instantly followed ihugdkfmv bUT HONESTLY ? ? ? i stayed because holy fuck i love how they write koku ? how they portray his entire character ? ? top quality content, i tell ya. DO WE WRITE / DO I WANT TO WRITE WITH THEM ? - YEAH WE DO ! ! ! we have a thread going on ( which i have replied to & queued ! ! ! though it might need some plotting / talking out because akaza is not the most open of guys & the two of them pit together might make for some mighty awkward interactions ) & i’ve sent ‘em a couple asks & i’m always blown away by how good their responses are ? ? ? i’m very much looking forward to plotting with them more & having a bunch more threads with them because holy heck i adore them already ! AN AU IDEA FOR OUR MUSES - i mean this is my go-to verse for kny muses but ! ! ! modern verse ! ! ! it’s so good ! ! so easy to work with ! ! ! might be slightly harder to find ways modern koku might interact with the twins, but it’s still gonna be so much fun to talk about. otherwise ? ? plots / threads between koku & senjurou in your alternate 1 verse would also be super interesting. i love pitting sen w/ muses he usually wouldn’t interact with & just ? it might be a bit hard to plot that out on a main verse but it’d ? ? be somewhat simpler to think their interactions through in the alt verse ? idk ! there’s so many potential verses / au’s we could work with & there’s things we could write that i just can’t come up with now, but might later on ! A SONG FOR OUR MUSES - GOD I DON’T KNOW ! ! ! i’m bad at songs in general & since i don’t know much about how they interact with each other apart from the very little we’ve talked about them ( which is entirely my fault, since i’m bad at keeping up with im’s ) idk of a good song but ! ! if anything, the song not gonna die tonight by skillet gives off vibes that both of them could relate to ? ? i guess ? ? “ i won't take this world's abuse / i won't give up or refuseThis is how it feels when you're bent and broken / this is how it feels when your dignity's stolen / when everything you love is leaving / you hold on to what you believe in ″ i guess is something that fits them because i mean, they both refuse to die during their battles ( until something happens that stops them ) but the whole this is how it feels when your dignity’s stolen is just oof because it reminds me of his inferiority to his twin ? & just :” > DO I SHIP OUR MUSES ? - OOF THIS IS A TOUGH ONE. do i ship them platonically ? yeah ! i do ! ! it’s got its share of tension, yeah-- like all demon friendships / relationships are, since they’re not exactly the most family friendly kind. but do i love the thought of them interacting enough that akaza would be willing to actively spend time with koku & koku not being so done with his & douma’s shit ? absolutely ! otherwise ! ! ! idk about any thing else, since i can’t see anything between them other than something platonic, but i would be down for plotting stuff to see where things might go ( will it get worse & into a hateship ? or better into something else ? who knows ! akaza is finicky when it comes to demons so it most probably will either stay the same or get worse but ihuegrjdfm yeah ) ! WHAT DO I THINK ABOUT THE MUN ? - goD I ADORE YOU ! ! ! ! i very much love seeing you on the dash ( if you can’t tell by the way i like almost every ooc post i see you make uhregijdfmvc ) & i love hearing about what you have to say & just ! ! ! in the very brief moment we talked to each other, you seemed like such a nice & kind, & mostly patient person to talk to & just ! ! ! hi i care you so much thank you for blessing us with your presence ! ! OVERALL OPINION - Y’ALL SHOULD BE FOLLOWING THEM ! ! ! ! ! their koku is absolutely amazing & their writing is spectacular, so you’re missing out big time if you haven’t seen their or followed their blog yet ♡. also if you don’t send me a picture of your new ( not really new anymore ihuregdfm ) bunny soon, one of these days i’m gonna riot. BLOG RATE - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

#moonchains #『 ☆ OOC → ‘ SHORP BACK AT IT AGAIN ‘ 』#uhM ?? ?? YEAH HI I ADORE YOU #SO FRIGGIN' MUCH ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !#me ? already willing to fight entire empires for you ? ? absolutely

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disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

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What if that transmission was a set up?

Listen, don’t get me wrong. The message that Din sends to Moff Gideon is great moment - it’s gritty, personal, and badass, and I straight up got chills when I saw it.

But on a tactical level, you’ve got to admit that it’s pretty stupid. Like, the galactic version of stomping on a hornet’s nest stupid. Sure, Din is desperate, but he doesn’t seem to be the type to make foolish mistakes. Heck, Boba Fett isn’t the type to let Din make foolish mistakes. Cara and Fennec aren’t idiots, either. So, why the ever-loving-hell would these four legendary warriors want to put the imps on red alert before embarking on what is essentially a suicide mission??

The only scenario in which this makes even an iota of sense is if Din is planning to go in without his armor.

Hear me out!

The show has made it pretty obvious since Chapter Three that Din is eventually going to have to choose between his creed and his kid. I would even argue that as of The Believer, Din has already made his choice. He took off the helmet. Putting it back on afterward must have been hard. Din would have felt like a fraud for breaking his creed, even for a good cause, and we all know that rules, once bent, are easily broken. If Din could find a strategic advantage in abandoning the creed entirely, then I’m sure he would go for it. Heresy is a slippery slope, my dudes!

Din decides to use his anonymity wisely. Instead of sneaking onto the star destroyer, Din sends a message for Gideon to expect him. He then gives his armor to Boba, who storms the ship as a diversion while Din, bare-faced and undercover, sneaks around the back to rescue the kid.

If you think about it, this is actually a pretty solid plan. Boba clearly knows how to use that armor and could do a very convincing job playing Din. He certainly wouldn’t be a liability. Gideon’s crew is already looking for the silver guy, and beskar takes heavy fire. The storm troopers would swarm "Mando,” and the coast would be clear for some random dude to sneak into the ship’s medbay and snag the baby. All Boba would have to do is draw the empire’s fire long enough for Din to escape with Grogu. Once they are in the clear, Boba feigns a retreat, and the crew is in hyperspace long before Gideon notices anything amiss.

This scenario has some incredible potential. First, it’s a perfect opportunity to get a fluffy scene of Grogu seeing Din’s face for the first time. It also drives home - again - just how much Din is willing to sacrifice for his kiddo. We would get to see more Boba badassery, more beskar-porn, and more awkward, anxious, de-armored Din. All great things!

Also, this offers the writers an excellent opportunity to tease the audience a little. Say we were kept in the dark about this plan until we see Pedro’s face as he sneaks in to snatch Grogu. The whole time, we would think we were watching Din go feral on some storm troopers, because he’s the guy in the shiny beskar who is wrecking shit, when actually - gasp - we were focused on Boba Fett the whole time. It would be a fun little plot twist to add to a season finale.

But guys, obviously this plan won’t go off without a hitch. We’ve all speculated that season two will end on a darker note, echoing the tone of Empire Strikes Back in the original trilogy. I don’t doubt this one bit.

In this Diversion Scenario, Din likely doesn’t consider that the empire now has a scan of his bare face. Remember that? So, Din would finally get to Grogu, kiss his little wrinkled forehead, and things would look optimistic for a minute. But then, some alarm trips, or in walks Gideon with a horde of storm troopers, or something else terrible happens because Din is recognized. Din would be forced to fight Gideon without his armor, and probably be pretty banged up in the process. Din facing Gideon sans-beskar echoes Vader confronting a half-trained Luke in ESB. It’s not a fair fight, and the ending is ugly.

The season will probably end with Din still separated from Grogu, injured, unmasked, and very, very angry. But, Grogu will have seen Dad’s face, and Din will probably have claimed Grogu as his kid, aloud (I know we all need that acknowledgement just as much as Din does, and I fully look for it to happen on Friday). The audience is left absolutely salivating for season three and the epic beskar spear vs dark saber fight that we know is coming. And now, after all this, when Din does finally face Moff Gideon in battle, it will be in full beskar armor, as a new man with a new creed and a new vendetta, and that battle is going to be gritty and climatic and cathartic and emotional and awesome, and definitely worthy of ending the series.

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lunastwilightblog · 3 years

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The Volturi are the good guys and Bella is the up-and-coming villain

I’m on my computer for this as I know it might be long, but bear with me (insert Emmett pun here) 🐻

So wait - the Volturi are the good guys? But didn’t SM write them as the bad guys?

Well, yes, SM did write Aro and co in as the antagonists of the series, but bear in mind that originally she didn’t write most of New Moon to happen, or the entirety of Eclipse. There was Twilight and Forever Dawn, which we’ll sadly never read. Her vision of the Volturi and their role as the evil villains who wanted to separate Edward and Bella became distorted as she had to flesh them out more and show their role as the governing body.

Then she wrote the Illustrated Guide and revealed their history and the horrors of the world without their authority; with the Romanians being as brutal as they were, the constant terror humans lived with and the fracturing of the world into many unstable and violent vampire-ruled empires (plus with way more children of the moon running about, probably as far west as - at least - central Europe).

When the Volturi were coming to power they were laughed at with the idea of their law, a significant reason the Romanians didn’t take them seriously. But now they are extremely popular.

This isn’t just because Aro created vampires to go out and sing his praises. Volturi rule has been a blessing for both humans and vampires.

For humans it’s the obvious: they are not living their lives in fear, they are not subject to massacres (except if caught in newborn warzones), their population has been able to grow and expand, modern medicine and technology have been able to flourish, society is much more stable, people need to flee areas much less (if ever) so they can stay put and complete research/live to meet their grandkids/etc, and not have to serve a vampire in the local castle.

For vampires it’s actually quite similar: with the human population growing to as large as it is today when at the time the Volturi came to power it was (estimated to be) only 210 million globally, vampires have been able to grow to even greater numbers also, and feed more often than before. If a vampire 2000 years ago killed 5 people in a town it would be an outrage the humans would certainly have noticed, however kill 5 people in a place as big as London, LA, Paris, Singapore, Bucharest... it would likely not be noticed very much, if at all (depending on who you kill).

Humans like to measure things in percentages. Those 5 people is a huge number to a town of 2000 - that’s 0.25% of the whole town’s population. It would be talked about, and relatives of the dead/missing would all know each other. Yet kill those 5 in a city of 12 million (as is London), that’s only 0.00004167% of the population. And chances are, the dead humans’ families don’t even live in the area (or could be in another country entirely) never mind know each other to realise there was a mass murder.

So vampires, as long as they hide from humans, as is the only law (besides no immortal children or consorting with werewolves), they have a lot more freedom nowadays than they did before the times of the Volturi. There are so many people that they can easily get lost in a crowd, move internationally, and not be pressured for allegiance by a local vampire warlord (before meeting Aro, Caius ran afoul of the Romanians, and he barely escaped with his life).

With there only being one authority, and one that does not interfere with your day-to-day life, is a dream come true. As long as they don’t break this law that is very easy to abide by, they can do whatever the f*** they want.

Carlisle would have never been able to get a job as a doctor if he was known to be a vampire, nor could any of the Cullens have entered education of any form. They’d be stuck sneaking into libraries after closing, and googling. Edward would have never met Bella (neither would Edward’s ancestors have immigrated to America - in fact, Europeans may have never discovered America in the first place. The whole Cullen coven aside from Carlisle might never have been born).

So what the Volturi have done (despite many of them having not-so-savoury personalities corrupted by hunger for power or violence) is bring peace to the world, get rid of tyrants, increase the food supply, allow a greater amount of freedom, and the first kind of trials and justice ever seen in their world. Sure, Aro uses trials to find new talent, but it’s still a world away from before.

Which leads me on to the events of Breaking Dawn, and Bella.

So. Maybe controversial, but: the Volturi did absolutely nothing wrong in Breaking Dawn.

They turned up thinking a serious crime had been committed. They stopped to talk (which Vladimir certainly never would have done!), considered the evidence and processed new discoveries and discussed their legality, decided there was no crime to punish, and left with only the informant dead. Yes, Irina had been innocent in the way that she strongly had believed she had been telling the truth and her memories must have presented good enough evidence to Aro initially, but their witnesses had come to see justice being served, and in the vampire world that is execution. Aro could have continued with prosecuting the Cullens for something he now knew was false, or execute Irina instead.

(Side note: she did kind of deserve it too. She didn’t bother to check her evidence, she wanted revenge for Laurent’s death so her accusation wasn’t coming from a place of good intentions but instead she was willing to have her friends and family killed for Laurent. She was also forcing Aro into a position where he had to prepare himself to kill Carlisle, whom we know he cherishes. Remember also that Aro turned down Laurent’s application to the Guard because he’d followed the Romanians for a while, so he won’t have been entirely trusting of Irina anyway, her having been Laurent’s mate).

Anyway. Onto Bella.

So Aro’s impression of Bella after New Moon seems to be positive. Why? Well, through Edward’s thoughts he saw that Bella was able to keep The Secret. He had heard how much she wanted to be a vampire. In addition, Marcus showed him how strong Edward and Bella’s bond is. Both of them knew, that if E & B’s love was almost as strong as Marcus and Didyme’s, that no matter what Edward currently said or thought about Bella being turned it was invalid. If Bella were dying, he would turn her for sure, which happened. Then the obvious, that Edward had already proven he could not live without her.

Bella was trustworthy and probably going to be turned. Alice showing proof was just a formality so Aro could say he had evidence rather than admit he’d just made assumptions (and Alice having had that vision may act as proof that his assumption was correct).

Therefore, from Aro’s perspective, Bella was a human who wanted to become immortal so much that she would rather die than not, and she was already following his law. She was no issue.

Yet.

Bella, knowing the law, should have been very grateful that she was left alive. Edward not being executed and she not being killed or forcibly turned on the spot... Aro had been very nice to them.

And again, in BD, he was very nice to them. Some people will inevitably say that he was weak in not killing them all. I mean, they stood beside Vladimir and Stefan! They have an army of wolves fundamentally opposed to vampires! Aro has lost Good Reputation Points by sparing the Cullens. He held as close to a trial as vampire society has ever had, and rightfully pronounced the Cullens innocent.

So shouldn’t Bella like him? He has spared her life and the lives of her loved ones more than one, and proven that he can be spoken to and conversed with properly and is willing to admit he was wrong. With Aro, we know it’s important to look more at what he does than what he says, and what he has done is be very kind to the Cullens (though who knows about the future?).

Yet Bella was creeped out by him when they met and interpreted him as a threat to Edward’s life. As she loves Edward, she’s always going to be of this mind, and first impressions are important.

Vampires are stuck with the mindsets they had when turned. An example of this is Esme, who was turned after her baby died and she tried to die too. She is permanently feeling maternal. She was turned only days after giving birth. Before knowing this, Bella even describes her as maternal and the mother of the family. Huilen also has a lot of care for Nahuel, being his aunt, because of her love for Pire, and while she was dying, Pire begged Huilen to raise him. Joham does not seem to have this parental love for his son and daughters; he never really knew Pire and was never affected by her love for Nahuel, and did not meet him until years after he was born. He’s only genetically a parent. He doesn’t have the protective mindset. When he was turned, he was a curious scientist (in fact, it was even why his creator turned him). He sees the world and people as things to study.

Anyway.

When Bella was turned, all she was thinking about was Renesmee. She begged Edward to get the baby out and didn’t care for her own life.

And she will be forever stuck in this high alert, must-protect-my-baby mode. Then for weeks as a newborn vampire, she was thinking of Aro as a threat and preparing to fight him. Compounding that, he was a threat to her daughter.

Both of these things will have had a significant effect on who she will have become after her newborn phase ended. It is impossible for Bella to ever like Aro now, even if she tried.

Her dislike of him, and willingness to fight against him, will be forever engrained in her brain.

This is dangerous.

Bella found the Romanians weird, but she didn’t dislike them per se. She would probably be willing to stand with them against the Volturi again.

We can take an educated guess and assume that sometime they will rise up again - and Bella might stand with them (though I highly doubt any of the other Cullens would).

Bella was not a problem for Aro until she stood beside Vladimir and Stefan.

Here is this vampire who can block most of his coven’s gifts, stuck with an intense dislike of him, who he has seen with his own eyes stand with his enemies. He has every right to be nervous now. Her love for her mate is almost as strong as Marcus’s bond to Didyme - how strong is her bond to Renesmee? Likely more. Aro knows the threat in that. He knows that Bella may be viewing him in the way Marcus feels when he thinks of taking revenge on whoever killed Didyme.

Nobody wants the Romanians back in power. Those who lived under their reign and those who have heard first hand stories told to them all know very well that life under Vladimir would be horrible, brutal, awful for all beside his close coven members (though considering he had a very large coven that was often squabbling amongst itself, it was probably miserable for a lot of them too).

But Bella is young. She has no memory of the world before the Volturi, and knows no one with first hand experience of that world other than the Volturi. She will have heard that it was horrible, but she has no emotional or personal connection to the near-ancient past, and vampires who lived during that time are disappearing. No one lives forever.

Then, she is American. Like Garrett, she values freedom, and the Volturi are the only oppressive vampire force either of them has ever known. Despite them being the least oppressive in vampire history, Bella and Garrett haven’t experienced the alternative. They are a government that is at times harsh, is corrupt, and executes people. They go to war and they obliterate their enemies. Bella doesn’t see that the Volturi is the least bad government her world is ever going to get, and that they’ve granted her so much freedom. She is unable to see that because, in her youth, she has nothing to compare them against.

By standing against the Volturi, Bella isn’t just standing against Aro, Caius, and Marcus. She is standing against the peace they have brought between vampires, against humans living without fear, against modern civilisation itself. She stands a representative of the next world order, and Aro can sense it.

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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The Secret Of The Wish [Max Lord x F!Reader] SEX POLLEN

Summary: You’re a new intern for the Wall Street Journal, sent out to interview Maxwell Lord, a businessman who has suddenly found financial success in the oil drilling industry. When you ask him what does he owe his success to, he gives you a surprisingly honest answer: through the power of the wish. You make the mistake of humouring him, and playing along with his little story until he proves to you just how powerful wishing can be.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT (sex pollen in the form of wish granting therefore there is automatic dub-con) unprotected p in v, male oral, handjob, tit play, butt play, spanking, cockwarming, creampie, degradation, praise kink, office sex, power-shift, dom/sub dynamic, implied age difference, mutual pining.

Word count: 4400>

Masterlist

REBLOGS appreciated! 🤍

Black Gold Cooperative was booming with business. Even the outside of the building was swamped with hundreds of people who were desperate to get inside and speak to Mr Lord himself. Luckily, you were a journalist for the esteemed Wall Street Journal and your position in the company had earned yourself an interview with the successful CEO. The entire world had thousands upon thousands of questions for Maxwell Lord, and you were the lucky intern who got to meet with him on this humid Wednesday afternoon.

A tall blonde woman who you assumed was his secretary, led you to his office. All his employees seemed to be young, attractive and wore only the best designer clothes. It was almost intimidating. You couldn’t mess this up. You were conducting an interview with one of the most successful people alive - this could actually be your big break in the industry. Taking a deep breath, you made an attempt to swallow away your nerves before making your way into his own private office.

It was extensive in size, with large plants and statues in every corner and on every surface. Honestly, you found his taste in furnishings to be quite tacky. You knew it was just his way of bragging about how wealthy he was without actually saying anything. He was neck deep in paperwork and he hadn’t even noticed you were just standing there, in his office. Your eyes flicked across his messy desk, taking in the sight of multiple opened bottles of vitamins, colourful smoothies and other supplements. You made a mental note, not exactly pinning the salesman as a health freak. You’d been standing there for longer than you’d anticipated and he still hadn’t looked up, so you cleared your throat and prepared to grab his attention.

“Mr Lord… I’m here on behalf of Wall Street Journal, we’re doing a segment on Company Sudden Search....” you began to introduce yourself but a roll of his eyes and a flimsy yet disapproving gesture of his hand cut you off.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he grumbled, taking a swing of his green juice before fastening the cap back on the bottle and pulling a face of disgust. If he thought it tasted so bad, why was he drinking it? Maxwell took a minute trying to compose himself for the interview. He’d waited his whole life to be interviewed by the Wall Street Journal and no matter how bad his migraine was… he couldn’t mess this up.

In fact… there was something about the way Maxwell Lord looked in this moment. His bottle blonde hair was sticking up in random places, probably due to the beads of sweat that laced his forehead. His tie was pulled open and his suit jacket was crinkled, yet he still made the effort to keep it on for whatever reason. He didn’t look like the persuasive, bright eyed salesman on the television, that’s for sure. You supposed all those studio lights could make anyone look different, but that didn’t necessarily mean he looked bad. He didn’t look sick as such, just a little disheveled. He kept rubbing his temples as if he had a killer headache. You considered asking him if he was okay, but that wasn’t why you were here.

The prolonged silence made Max Lord look up at you from the many papers on his desk. He was frowning, and if one thing was clear, it looked like he was having a bad day. It looked like he could do with some major stress relief. The first two buttons of his pinstripe shirt were open, and his collar was wonky, and honestly? You had to fight the urge to stalk over to him and help him out. You imagined running your fingers through his golden hair, caressing his face and letting your hands wander down his chest. You imagined whispering dirty little things into his ear until he ached for you. There was something about teasing a higher-up that you just couldn’t resist. Nevertheless, you cursed yourself for the inappropriate thoughts. You were a young intern for one of the most successful journalism companies… and shit, he was the CEO of what had suddenly become the richest organization in the world. He was a powerful man, more powerful than you knew. It would be foolish to mess around with a man like Maxwell Lord.

Maxwell took a shaky exhale and done what he could do best. Fake a smile. Feign confidence. Pretend like he was okay... like he had it together. He promised himself that he would not lose control of his power— he couldn’t— but this moment was only the start of his descent into madness. He never knew how hungry he could get... how satisfying his power could be, until he met you.

“Come here sweetheart,” his frown curled upwards into a smirk and his eyes began to gleam again, just like they did on his famous infomercials. His voice became a little louder, and a little more confident as he stood up and padded around his desk, pulling out a chair for you to sit down on. You hesitated, his change in attitude wasn't lost on you, but still, you obliged, and shuffled into the golden plush chair. The material was so soft and you struggled to suppress a moan. “Everything okay?” he asked you, placing a large ring clad hand on your shoulder and giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah I just… I’ve never sat on anything so comfortable.” you confessed, shuffling around. Maxwell’s eyes lit up with desire at your comment and his gaze fixated on your face.

“Really?” Never?” he chuckled lightly, brushing his thumb against his lower lip as he took in your appearance. Just the shape of your perfect body was enough to initiate something primal in him. The tightness of your blouse and the vision of your short pencil skirt that cut off mid-thigh already had his cock straining against his tailored suit pants. “I can think of at least one more comfortable thing in this office for you to sit on.”

You’d be lying if you said you were unfazed by his little flirtation. If any other middle aged man had said something so crude to you, you’d have snapped back with something witty to put them in their place. But Maxwell Lord wasn’t any man and his charm alone had cast you under a spell. Your knees were weak and you felt like putty under his touch. Even when he removed his hand from your shoulder, you felt completely and utterly submissive to him.

You cleared your throat and opened up your notepad. “I’m just here to ask you a few questions…” you told the businessman, biting your lip nervously. Maxwell nodded and sat on the edge of his desk, waiting patiently for you to get started. “So uhm, Forbes is reveling in the fact you’re self made… but not much is known about your past. We don’t know about your family or where you come from… is there anything relevant you’d like to share with the world?” you asked curiously.

And for the first time, Maxwell Lord broke his gaze with you and looked down at the carpeted floor. “There’s not much to say, really.” he said, but there was something in his tone of voice that indicated he wasn’t willing to provide any further details. Hoping you hadn’t struck a sensitive cord with him, you glanced back down at your notepad to ask him another question.

“I hope you don’t think I’m prying, but not much is known about your personal life. A handsome, wealthy man like yourself can’t be single, right?” you asked, even startling yourself over how over bearing you’d begun to sound. Maxwell let out a chuckle and quirked an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I’m single, yes. Tell me darling, is this Wall Street Journal or US Weekly?” he joked, and you felt a flush of heat radiate your cheeks. You knew better.

“I’m sorry. It was an unprofessional question,” you quickly backtracked. “Do you uhm… do you have a pen… I could borrow?” You asked awkwardly, feeling a little irked over how flustered his simple presence had made you. You'd been so nervous to actually meet with Max Lord, you'd even forgotten to bring something to write with. You were so embarassed. But Maxwell was hardly paying attention to your lack of organization, and instead he just smiled and grabbed a gold encrusted company pen from his desk. “Thank you.” you said timidly. “Can I ask you something?”

“That’s why you’re here… isn’t it?” he retorted playfully.

“The interview is about Company Sudden Search and for some reason there are no questions about your company… just you,” you frowned apologetically. You hadn't come up with the questions, one of your executives had. You were just there to look pretty and milk as much information out of him as you could. “I guess the world is curious about you, Mr Lord. More curious about your private life than this empire that you have created. But Black Gold Cooperative had been off the grid for many years only prior to this week and now suddenly you’re the wealthiest company in the world. You’re the richest man in the US. And data shows absolute no correlation towards that. Your purchased oil wells were dry until one day they just weren’t. It wasn’t gradual, but Mr Lord, we are living during the Cold War and oil is as scarce enough as it is. How… how did this happen? You must know something.”

As you rambled on, Maxwell stared dead into you. You hadn’t been asked to say this, this was coming from your own interest. You had done your own digging about this (just like any successful journalist would), snooping into Maxwell’s business and finding out exactly which oil fields he owned and how much oil was in them in the first place. This wasn’t coming from the Wall Street Journal. This was coming from you. Maxwell never expected to be confronted with such a question. You were practically trapping him, but the way you could swindle the truth out of him was an attractive quality of yours. Not many people could get the truth out of Max Lord.

Maxwell chuckled lightly. He could tell you. It wouldn't make much of a difference. Besides, you’d be foolish to believe the truth. You’d think he’d gone insane. Had he gone insane? These damn migraines… he was drunk on power… his mind had become corrupt with the idea of fortune and success. And he needed this interview to go well.

Maxwell grinned, as charming as ever, and took both of your hands. “I made a wish.” he told you, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

You paused, unsure what to make of his comment. Was he making a joke? It didn’t sound like he was joking. In fact he sounded more serious than ever. “Like… upon a star?” you asked, giggling only slightly in attempt to make a judgement of whether or not he was just messing with you. Maxwell smirked and nodded his head. He’d expected that you wouldn’t believe him.

“On my journey to self fulfilment I locked into a secret, the secret of the wish. So I wished for it. Or, someone wished for it for me…” Maxwell explained, talking in tongue twisters. His fingers brushed over your knuckles. As you listened to him, he noticed the way your eyebrows knotted together in bewilderment. He was definitely serious about the wishing thing. But if he wasn’t going to be honest with you, then maybe this interview was more trouble than it was worth. Just as you were about to break away your contact with his hands, he continued. “Tell me what you wish for you and I will show you how it works.”

That was quite the proposal coming from him.

You blinked. “Uhm…” He stared at you, waiting for you to come up with some kind of answer. You supposed that you could always just humour him. “So you’re like a genie?”

“I’m Max Lord, sweetheart, and I can make your darkest fantasies come true as long as you just say the word.” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

The sexual tension between you both was undeniable, and it had been since you had entered his office. His already chocolate brown eyes had darkened considerably with lust. You pursed your lips together into a fine line and you tried your very best to ignore the fact that your lace panties were damp with arousal. You knew he was powerful. Strong… sexy. You’d been in his office for barely five minutes and he already had a hold on you.

“I suppose I’d want success in my career. It’s hard… being taken seriously, as a woman in journalism. It would be nice to just feel respected amongst my peers.” you confessed.

“The people at Wall Street don’t respect you?” Maxwell asked, and you swore that for a split second he sounded genuinely concerned.

“Uhm… I feel like I’m not really at liberty to discuss that. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have mentioned it in the first place.” you scrunched up your nose.

“Because you deserve respect, miss Y/L/N.” Maxwell promised you, his hand sinking down to caress your thigh. You gasped under his touch and looked up at the ceiling. “Is this alright… me touching you like this?” he cooed, tracing circles over your pantyhose.

“Mm.” you mumbled in agreement, your eyes fluttering shut as his fingers dipped under the hem of your skirt.

“So if you could wish for one thing… one thing at this very moment in time, it would be for success in your career? Is that true?” Maxwell quizzed, eyeing you up with curiosity.

No.

It wasn’t true.

In fact your career— this interview— was the last thing on your mind.

Fuck.

Silently, you shook your head. “So darling, tell me, what would you wish for?”

You sighed in defeat, remembering that you’d just humour him. It wasn’t exactly professional but he wasn’t helping you out either. Just go along with it, you told yourself. You finally looked back down at him and saw that his lips were moist from where he’d hungrily licked at them, his eyes fixated on your breasts and the way he could just about see the lace print underneath the thin material.

“I’d wish for you…” you shakily exhaled. And that caught his attention. His gaze flicked up to meet yours and he waited for you to continue. “I’d wish for you to let me use you to get what I want. You’re rich… powerful… wealthy…” A gust of air distracted you and a breeze blew through your hair. The windows weren’t open, the fan wasn’t on, and Maxwell looked completely and utterly spent over your revelation. It had just came out of nowhere. There was a few beats of silence and Max looked you up and down.

“What do you want?” he croaked meekly. He removed his hand from your thigh and his whole demeanor changed in a split second.

When you noticed how stiff his manhood was, and the way his precum had already leaked out onto the grey material of his pants, it stirred something up inside of you. He wanted this too, that much was clear.

And now, the roles had reversed. You were no longer the shy intern interviewing the big name CEO, you were a sexy journalist who’s nipples had hardened significantly and you had this fresh yet welcoming air of power to you. There were two people in this office and yet suddenly, you were the one in control.

Maxwell’s perfect, plush lips had parted and his dark eyes followed you as you stood up from your seat. He looked down at the wet patch from where you were sitting and gulped, imagining just how great it would feel to slide his fingers through your folds and feel your arousal himself.

All for him.

“I think you know.” you replied softly, sitting him down in the golden chair that you had once made yourself comfortable in. You pulled off his crumpled suit jacket and discarded his tie, throwing it haphazardly onto his already messy desk, and then sunk down to your knees, spreading his legs apart.

You began to palm at his erection through his pants, involuntarily licking your lips as your fingers danced around his growing bulge. “Ngh- fucking tease.” he groaned, his eyes snapping shut the second he felt you begin to work at removing his belt. You pulled down his zipper and reached into his pants, pulling his cock free. He wasn’t enormous, but definitely above average, and thicker than you’d ever taken before.

“You just need someone to make you feel nice, don’t you?” you cooed gently before licking a stripe up the base of his cock. “All this stress from work… huh? From making people’s wishes come true.”

“You… you have no idea.” Maxwell grunted, his cock twitching in your hands as you pressed a sweet little kiss to his head. His slit was still leaking with precum and you were desperate to get a taste of the CEO. You gave him a small kitten lick, relishing the saltiness of his seed. He was delicious.

This shouldn’t have been happening. Sure, Maxwell was hard before you’d even made the wish, but holy crap, he didn’t expect for this to actually happen. And neither did you. You assumed he was lying, just like he lied about everything else in his life. Afterall, who was going to believe a man who told you his success was owed to wish granting?

“Mr Lord… you’re so big.” you sighed longingly before making an attempt to attach your lips around his cock. He looked down at you and let his hands grip the back of your head as you sucked on his sensitive tip.

Who would've guessed that a good blowjob was exactly what Max Lord needed to feel better about himself?

Max felt like he was in heaven. He was already seeing stars. He’d been granting peoples wishes left, right and centre. He wasn’t necessarily touch starved but it had been a good few weeks since he’d gone without sex; his only motivation being to find and harness the power of the dreamstone. But you were giving him the best head he’d ever had in his life. It was like everything was pent up inside of him. His balls were tight and he was achingly hard and in a moment of pure lust, he thrusted his hips deep into your mouth. The sudden movement had you gagging and a trail of saliva mixed with his precum dripped down your lips. You pulled off him, gasping for air but quickly wrapped your lips back around him and taking his length even further than before. If he filled your mouth this good, you wondered how he’d feel filling your pussy.

“Not gonna last… fuck!” Maxwell cried, his cum shamelessly spurting into your mouth. His load was massive and he doubled out of you, the remnants of his seed spilling against your lips and down your chin. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest as he took in the appearance of you, down on your knees, in between his legs, with his milky white cum all over your pretty face.

Despite his orgasm, Maxwell was still hard. He still craved more. More of a release from you. It must’ve been your wish that created this desperation that dwelled inside of him.

“More,” he pleaded, his eyes round and doe-like. “Please, I need more.”

“Say less.” you whispered, unbuttoning your blouse and pulling down your skirt and pantyhose so you were simply just standing there in your white lingerie set. You looked so pure and innocent, and yet you were in absolute full control of this situation. You were the one dominating him.

“You said you wish to use me, so use me.” Maxwell begged as he extended his arms and made grabby fists, desperate for you to come over and help him out.

He was right. This was your wish. You could play along with this for as long as you wanted. You removed your panties, unclipped your bra and discarded the garments, letting your breasts fall free. Maxwell’s jaw dropped at the sight of you and you stalked over to him. You straddled him and sat on his lap.

With one hand, you wrapped your fingers around his cock again and began to slowly jerk it, beginning a handjob which was more than pleasant for him. With your free hand, you grabbed onto his shoulder and steadied yourself, before stretching your body and pressing one of your breasts into his mouth. His lips latched around your tit immediately and he began to suck on your nipple as you continued to rub his cock. You moaned with pleasure, tossing your head back as his tongue worked at the hard little bud.

You subconsciously found yourself riding his thigh, dragging your dripping wet cunt along his expensive pants and making an absolute mess of them. He experimentally flexed the muscles in his thigh a few times, trying to gauge a reaction out of you and see how you liked it. His teeth grazed your breast and he let himself get a little too excited, peppering love bites all over your chest.

“Yes, that’s it,” Maxwell groaned. “Take what you need sweet girl.” he praised.

You whimpered when he flexed his thigh again and you felt yourself begin to reach your climax. You clenched around nothing and his cock was throbbing in your hand. You knew he needed more too.

You let go of him and he pulled his mouth off your tit with a ‘pop’. You cupped his face with both your hands and adjusted yourself slightly, this time so the tip of his cock was pressed against your entrance. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for his stretch before sinking down onto his length, settling balls deep. “Fuck… Fuck fuck fuck,” you chanted, your eyes squeezing tight shut as he filled you.

“Move.” he gasped, biting down on your shoulder. You whimpered and tugged on his golden hair, sending him into an absolute frenzy.

“Fuck, Mr Lord… oh god please, you’re so fucking big.” you cried, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. He wanted you to move, sure, but this was your wish, and you were more than happy to just sit on and warm his cock for a few minutes.

Your walls were tight and perfect around him, just like he’d imagined. You brought your finger down to your cunt and began to rub at your clit as his cock stretched you out. Your moans of gratification echoed throughout the extensively sized office and you felt your juices drip down his cock.

“So good,” he whispered. “Move, please.”

“Mmm,” you couldn’t even fumble out words, and your vision was nothing less than a haze.

He rubbed the pad of his finger against your puckered asshole before sliding it in. Your body tensed up at the intrusion but God did it feel good. “Fucking move.” he growled, biting down on your earlobe as he began to thrust his index finger in and out of you.

Maxwell brought a hand down to cup your ass and he gave you a rough spanking. “Move.” He repeated, this time his tone a lot more demanding and less polite than the first time.

And just like that— he was in control again.

You obliged, not wanting to irk him any more, and began to bounce on his cock. “Greedy bitch,” he grunted, spanking you again. “Fuck… thinking you can use my dick for your own pleasure, huh? Everything comes with a price.” he hissed as you rolled your hips over his manhood.

“Oh Mr Lord.” you sighed with every movement, as his cock pressed against that sweet spot inside of you.

“You just couldn’t resist it, could you?” Maxwell asked rhetorically, a villainous smirk crossing his lips. “One great wish and you wish to ride my fucking cock," He had a point. People had come to him wishing for Porsche's, political power,— and you, with your whole chest, had wished to be the one who could pleasure him. Help him let go. “Shit baby, you take me so well.”

Despite his growls of degradation you knew he wasn’t going to last long, if the way his cock throbbed inside of you was anything to go by. You didn’t mind though. He could disrespect you all he wanted. You were more than happy to be Maxwell Lord’s little cumslut. His little whore.

“G-gonna cum, oh fuck, please.” you screamed, pressing your fingernails into his back as you rode out your high.

“Yes,” he moaned wantonly. “Soak my cock.” And with those three words, you came undone, sat on top of the richest and most successful CEO in the world. “Are you safe?” he asked, his hips bucking up into your sensitive core.

“I am.” you confirmed, and without even asking for permission, he spilt his seed inside of you, ruthlessly painting your walls with his cum.

He kept his cock inside of you until it softened and slipped out, and you mumbled something incoherent at the loss of his fullness. Maxwell watched your chest as you heaved, making every attempt you could to catch your breath. He pressed a sweet kiss into your collar bone, and then up your neck and along your jaw. You relished the feeling of his lips against skin; post coital bliss fostering your every thought.

“You’re a good girl,” he whispered, rubbing the curve of his nose against your neck. “I grant you your wish, and in return, I give you the utmost success in your career.” he sighed, and for the very first time Maxwell Lord said something completely and utterly selfless. It was through no gain to him whatsoever. You didn’t deserve to be looked down upon by your peers and employers, he knew that much. And if he had the chance to change that, he sure as hell would.

“You will achieve things no journalist has achieved before, you will be rich, and be the first to seize every opportunity.” he said in between kisses.

To you, he was just whispering sweet nothings into your ear, humouring your larger-than-life dreams and ambitions. But if there was one thing that Maxwell Lord admired in a woman, it was her aspiration and goals. If you were brave enough to waltz into his office as let him cum all over you, you definitely deserve this. At that moment, you had no idea that Maxwell Lord would change your life forever...

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the-six-espada · 3 years

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TBB Spoilers below. A rant (please don’t pay me any mind, I might delete this :d)

I’ve been fighting the urge to write about this but I decided what the hell. Please note that I’m aware I am discussing the emotions and narrative of a fake show, with a fake universe and fake characters – I’m just dumping some thoughts I’ve had in the past few days.

I’m not aiming to change anyone’s opinion here – I’m well aware there are a lot of people who don’t like Crosshair as they’ve made it painfully aware in the past weeks, however I do want to calmly explain a few things and if you’re interested in reading them be my guest.

I can understand that a lot of people might not entirely comprehend the emotions I will try to explain party because they perhaps never experienced them and partly because I probably won’t word them accurately enough but I will do the best I can.

The contents of the last episode of the Season 1 Bad Batch series have left me a little broken. I’m really trying to not get too emotional but the contents of this series have triggered some emotional trauma I’ve buried (as I’m sure it did for a lot of people, but I will be speaking only for myself here) – I’m not blaming the show in any way. I love the show. It’s because of its good writing and setting that this hurts so much.

Crosshair being left again is really upsetting to me for a lot of reasons. The gaping distance created by the Bad Batch and Crosshair is so hurtful. Earlier on in the show, after seeing the complete disregard for their brother, I thought that perhaps there is part of this narrative that we are missing. Maybe the relationship between them wasn’t as good as we thought. Maybe at some point during their upbringing or the numerous missions they’ve been on together these guys figured out they hate their brother. Or at least don’t care for him. Which would be enough of a reason for them to completely not hesitate to continue their lives without him. However what I cannot understand is – how can you leave him stranded on a platform on a planet that is just water, where the only building on that planet has been blown up minutes prior, without his weapon and backpack.

They practically left him for dead.

You don’t care about your brother and you don’t want him to be on your team? Fine. You can’t get past your differences and work together or have a healthy conversation about your differences in opinions? Understandable. But please explain to me how leaving him with no weapon on a absolutely deserted planet makes any sense? Even if the Empire does come back to look for him (which in my opinion is highly unlikely) what do you think they will do to him? The only Empirial teammate he had and was left alive saw him and snitched on him to Rampart. They gave the order to kill him alongside the other clones. They most likely will either kill him or experiment on him. Hunter knows this. He might not be certain exactly what’s going to happen but he for a fact knows the Empire will discard him - he said so to Crosshair on two occasions.

So now in my opinion is just a question of basic human decency to at least drop him somewhere - on another planet at least I don’t know.

For the people who think Crosshair was too rude to his brothers in the last episode and was making too snarky replies. First, it’s not news that Crosshair in general does that - since day one he has been sarcastic and borderline “rude”. Whether or not his brothers found that annoying or not is up to debate but at least in my opinion they didn’t seem too bothered by it. Ask anyone with siblings - bickering is part of the family relationship. Second, I don’t know if you ever encountered someone after a dramatic breakup (doesn’t matter if it’s a friendship or a romantic relationship) but his behavior was presented very accurately. Please try to imagine getting into a fight with someone you had years of build relationship, people who you deeply cared for and trusted, people you probably loved. You get into a fight, you fall out and don’t hear each other for some time. Now you have a lot of time for these emotions to brew inside you - you will mainly feel sadness. Why did this happen? Why are they not reaching out? They know you are in pain so why aren’t they trying to remedy things? Queue all of the moments you had together, all the good memories, all the emotions you’ve shared and how much you devoted yourself to them. Was it all fake? Did they feel the same? Then comes anger. How could they? How could you? Why did you let yourself be this vulnerable with someone? Why are they not trying to communicate with you? Don’t they hurt the same as you? This segment by the way opens up a whole other door of trust issues and thoughts that lead you to conclusions to never let yourself be this vulnerable with others or have any kind of deep emotions for anyone else but we are not going to tackle that. (Not to mention that until that point Crosshair was already presented as a very closed off character and probably the only people he truly felt comfortable with were his brothers but never mind that now.) So you are angry and sad. Unfortunately even with all that hurt you don’t stop loving this person/these people because it just doesn’t work like that. In fact it is so painful because you love them. Time passes and you finally meet and the first thing that it’s itching at your tongue is to tell them they have hurt you. Which Crosshair did - he explained they’ve left him even though they were brothers and in a way betrayed him. Then comes the desire to inflict pain back - it’s completely irrational because a part of you wants to patch things up but another just wants to get payback. To say something, anything, to hurt them. It’s erratic, childish - exactly what we can see from Crosshair in this last episode. He takes every opportunity to bite back. And honestly I can’t blame him. That’s a totally normal response. I would like to point out that in a way the batch does that too - they are not warm to him in any way either, which again is valid since from their point of view they also probably feel betrayed by him. Also, the fact that he doesn’t feel the need to physically harm them (even though as he said it would have been totally justifiable from his point of view) but just make a few snarky remarks? Yeah, I would let that slide.

Honorable mention to the fact that no one apologized .. for anything. Even a casual “sorry, we left you” or “sorry, we didn’t bother to come looking for you” - nothing. I think at this point no one was expecting for the batch to start dramatically confessing their feelings but just a plain apology would have been a great start. It just confuses me so much. Hunter said to Omega “I’m angry at myself. We don’t leave our own behind.” and yet couldn’t express a simple gesture of apology to him? It makes no sense to me. I know that not everyone is emotional. Not everyone can have or express strong feelings for another human being in a relationship. But the complete lack of interest from the batch since day 1 about what is happening with their brother is baffling to me.

I’m gonna say this once and there are probably going to be people out there who don’t get it and that’s fine but: If you deeply care about someone and love them you would want them to come back. Against all odds. In spite of what they say. You would dare do the impossible just for the off chance something, anything, works and you get to have them back.

The Batch went back to save Hunter. On Kamino. In a situation where, honestly, they were going to die if it wasn’t for Crosshairs decision to give them a chance. They were walking in outnumbered against a person who knew and could predict their every move. And they knew that but they had to try. No such thing at any point was shown for Crosshair. They didn’t even try to get to him at the end. The only one who did was Omega. And I’m willing to believe that if Hunter or whoever stepped in after her conversations with him he was perhaps going to crack but.. no one even tried.

I don’t want to seem like I hate the show or the other characters. Words cannot express how good this show is and how accurately it’s written (in my opinion) but it’s just hurtful. And I believe a lot of us Crosshair fans are hurt because we can empathize. I’m not living under the illusion that my opinion of Crosshair is going to change anyone else’s - this is not what I’m trying to do. This is my post, take it or leave it. I just had thoughts and wanted to lay them out. If you read through all of this, thank you for giving it your time.

#TBB #The Bad Batch #Bad Batch #Crosshair #Hunter #Tech #Echo #Wrecker #Omega #Star Wars #starwars #word vomit #I apologize I don't mean to attack anyone #these are just my feelings #might delete

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sage-nebula · 3 years

Note

Hmmm... "tfw ur evil mom doesnt like ur bf"

Despite the glib file name I gave it, this one is actually pretty serious.

This one takes place in my Paradigm Shift AU, which is an AU in which not only was Keith raised in space, and not only did he join Team Lotor, but he and the rest of Team Lotor (or Team Revolutionary as I call this version of them) became the Paladins of Voltron and are fighting a revolution against the Empire. More specifically, this WIP was an AU of my AU, and more specifically still it's a, "what if Haggar controlled Narti in Paradigm Shift the same way she did in canon? What if the Narti Incident still happened?" After I considered the question I couldn't get it out of my head, so I had to write it down—or at least start to write it down, before I got distracted by other things.

TL;DR: Haggar uses Narti to spy (against Narti's will), and Lotor (in a moment of trauma-induced panic) tries to kill her as in canon, only to be stopped by Keith . . . and things get worse from there. Narti does end up escaping (nothing but unrefrigerated women in my AU), but Team Revolutionary is pretty badly fractured as a result of what Haggar makes her do after Keith intervenes, how Lotor reacts to what she does, how Ezor reacts to how Lotor reacts to what she does, and all the emotional fallout that comes with it.

I actually had quite a bit written, so I'll give multiple snippets:

So one Sincline ship was necessary, absolutely, but Lotor had ordered the construction of four more with the remainder of the comet they had secured from an alternate reality. At first, Acxa hadn’t understood why. They had their Lions, and while she couldn’t speak for Zethrid, Ezor, or Narti, Acxa herself was pretty attached to Red. She didn’t want to trade for a Sincline ship. But Lotor had, when she had questioned him, pointed out the fact that they would not be able to pilot Voltron forever. Eventually, they would die or move on to other things. And when they did, and Voltron passed into other hands, it may be necessary to have a check on its power, just in case.

“At present, the Sincline ships are the only ships in the known universe with a hope of meeting Voltron in a fair fight,” he had said. “They will only be five ships, one per Lion, when completed, but that is still five more ships than the universe had before.”

“But we have them,” Ezor had said, “so aren’t we just making a check on ourselves?”

“We have them now,” Lotor had said, a little smile playing at his lips, “but we need not have them forever. Nothing is eternal, Ezor.”

With that decided, construction had progressed on the remaining four. Acxa had to say, they were impressive. While she still felt a strong attachment to Red that she wasn’t willing to break, the Sincline ships gleamed in the light of their hangar, and their cockpits had a soft scent that was comforting and welcoming at once (“New ship smell,” Keith had called it, and Acxa wasn’t so sure about that, but she also couldn’t think of anything to counter it). The third ship was about halfway complete; between the mechanics they had recruited and the droids they had built for this purpose, construction was coming along at a brisk pace, and so Lotor’s smile as the six of them watched its progress from the doorway of the hangar was (in Acxa’s opinion) completely warranted.

“At this rate, we should be able to begin testing on the third ship within the next few months,” Lotor said, his voice raised a little to be heard over the sound of the ore being soldered. “Acxa, have you checked the calibration and pilot test results from the second ship?”

“Yes,” Acxa said. “Calibration of the second ship is complete, and it passed all other tests with no errors. It’s in perfect form.”

“Excellent.”

Lotor cast one last satisfied look at the half-completed third ship before he turned and left the hangar, the rest of them turning to follow suit. Well, most of the rest of them; Keith alone lingered for just a moment more, smiling a little as he looked back at the ship, but when he turned and caught Acxa watching him, his smile fell.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Acxa said, and though she resisted the urge to roll her eyes, she couldn’t keep a little smile off her own lips as she followed after Lotor, Ezor, Narti, and Zethrid down the corridor. “Attached already, are you?”

“I like ships,” Keith said, a little defensively as he fell into step beside her. “That’s all.”

“I know,” Acxa said. But though it was childish of her, and though there was no reason to rile him over being excited at the construction of the Sincline ships, she still couldn’t stop herself from adding, “Nerd,” under her breath.

She glanced at him in time to see him roll his eyes, but he was smiling a little again as he stepped to the side to knock his shoulder against hers in a playful bump, and that made her own smile grow.

[. . .]

It had been six weeks since an agent of the Blade named Ulaz had infiltrated the castleship looking for someone named Shiro—six weeks since Keith saw a symbol on Ulaz’s weapon that he thought looked vaguely familiar, and six weeks since Ulaz had looked at Keith with an expression caught somewhere between joy and heartache, like he knew him, somehow, but couldn’t acknowledge that even to himself. Ulaz had given them the coordinates to one of the Blade of Marmora’s bases, and had urged them to go there as soon as possible. Keith wanted to; it was obvious that was what he wanted without him having to say it. But he had said it after Ulaz had left them, his jaw set and his eyes burning holes into the floor as he spoke privately to Acxa and Lotor.

“I think I . . . there was something kind of . . . familiar about him. Like I knew him, maybe. And he—there was something he said, before he died, that made it seem like maybe he knew me, too. And I don’t know how, or why, but . . . maybe if I meet with the Blade like he said, I’ll figure it out.”

The logic was sound. It made sense. And it was something, Acxa knew, that Keith was fixated on, even if he didn’t bring it up regularly. But though Ulaz had infiltrated the castle six weeks ago, they had yet to trace the coordinates he had given them to visit the Blade of Marmora’s hidden base. Their delay was justified; there was always more work to be done. But all things considered, Acxa felt there was a good chance Lotor was delaying their visit on purpose.

Acxa glanced sidelong at the frown Keith was sending Zethrid’s way before she faced forward again.

It was selfish of Lotor if that was the case, but if she was honest with herself, Acxa couldn’t say she didn’t understand.

[. . .]

By now they had reached the base of the stairs leading up to another floor (there being too many of them to all cram into the elevator), and whatever had hit the castle did so with enough force to tilt it briefly up on its side. Ezor flailed and grabbed the banister, while Acxa was thrown sideways into Keith, who stumbled and barely kept his balance as she was thrown into him. Narti spread her arms and straightened her tail to keep her balance, Kova digging his claws into her shoulder, while Zethrid grabbed the other banister and Lotor was nearly thrown back off the stairs he had just started climbing. The attack (because Acxa didn’t know what else it could be) was powerful enough to cause the castleship to tremble with aftershocks even after the blow ceased; and as they all stood up, Ezor looked at the rest of them with wide eyes.

“What was—?”

The security alarms blared to life, drowning out Ezor’s voice and causing Kova to leap off Narti’s shoulder with a startled, angry yowl. In lieu of answering Ezor, Lotor tapped the communicator on his wrist, and as soon as the hologram screen flared to life above it, snapped, “Bridge, report! What’s happening?!”

“We’re being attacked by Empire fleets!” Dune, a member of Auxiliary Team One, cried. “Two, three—at least three of them, from different ang—!”

Another attack crashed into the ship, this time from the opposite side. Acxa caught herself against the wall, and held out her other hand to brace Keith was he was nearly thrown into her. Ezor and Zethrid were gripping the stairway banisters for dear life.

“Use Keith’s console to raise the particle barrier,” Lotor ordered. “We’ll be there momentarily.”

“On it!”

Dune’s voice had already been a crackle through Lotor’s communicator, but her response was even more clipped than normal as Lotor cut the communication in a sharp snap before he turned to head up the stairs again. Acxa and the others immediately hastened to follow suit, Kova climbing up Narti’s back to cling to her shoulder again, yet even as the lot of them sprinted up the staircase, Keith took the stairs two at a time to match Lotor’s strides.

“Lions?” he asked, and before Lotor had time to answer, added, “It’d be faster if we doubled back instead of going all the way to the bridge. We can get to the Lions through the Sincline hangar.”

“No,” Lotor said, and perhaps sensing the rebuttal in Keith’s frown, explained, “If we’re being attacked by this many fleets it wouldn’t be wise to counter. We’re better served using a wormhole to relocate until we can better plan our next move.”

“But how did they find us?” Acxa demanded. “Even if we leave, if we don’t know how they found us in the first place—”

“We had to have been tracked,” Zethrid said, and though Acxa agreed, that didn’t ease the knot in her throat, or the fists her fingers instinctively curled in.

“But how?” Ezor asked, a nervous frown on her lips. “Last time we were tracked by those other reality Paladins, right? By their Lions?”

“But they left a while ago,” Keith said, “and Dune didn’t say Zarkon was here. She would have mentioned it if he was.”

“If she knows what’s good for her, anyway,” Zethrid said.

“Then how did the Empire find us now?” Ezor asked. “If it wasn’t the other reality Paladins and their Lions, then what? How were we tracked?”

Lotor hadn’t broken stride the entire time they climbed the staircase. He hadn’t offered his own input, nor had he shown any indication that he heard their conversation at all. Yet as he reached the second floor he slowed, and finally came to a full stop just as Narti made it to the top of the stairs. Ezor and Zethrid, who had managed to pull ahead of him in the mad sprint up the staircase, noticed and stopped as well, both turning to look back.

“What is it?” Acxa asked.

Lotor didn’t answer her. He gave no indication to show that he even registered that she was talking to him. She was near enough to him so that she could see his profile, and while she couldn’t say why, exactly, what she saw was enough to make ice take up root in her chest. Lotor was staring at the floor, his jaw clenched. His hand was resting on the hilt of his sword. Acxa opened her mouth to call out to him again, yet thought better of it in the next tick. She looked over to Keith instead.

But for once, Keith didn’t return her glance. Instead, he was watching Lotor. His eyes were narrowed, his lips tugged in a sharp frown. And slowly—so slowly that Acxa almost didn’t catch it—he palmed and raised the Black Bayard so it was level with his waist.

Acxa restrained the impulse to reach for her Bayard in turn.

The moment, which felt like hours even though it could have only been a few seconds, ended with the ferocity of a lightning strike. Lotor whipped around as though a bolt had gone through him, his eyes wild, bright, and locked on Narti. In the next tick he threw himself forward, his sword clearing its scabbard as he brought it up in a high arc—

And a ring of steel upon rift ore echoed in the corridor as his blade clashed against Keith’s, Keith having thrown himself between Lotor and Narti like a living shield.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Keith demanded. He pushed back, knocking Lotor’s sword up and away, yet though Lotor took a step back, the wild look in his eyes didn’t fade.

“Keith,” Lotor said through a clenched jaw, “move.”

“No. We’re supposed to be under attack from the Empire, not each other,” Keith snapped. “What’s your problem?”

Lotor was gripping his sword so hard his arm was shaking. “You don’t understand—”

“I don’t think anyone could understand why you wou—” Keith froze mid-sentence, and glanced back over his shoulder. “What—?”

Keith’s voice broke, not in a yelp, but in a gasp as his spine arched and he jerked forward.

“Keith!” Acxa said, as both Ezor and Zethrid came closer. “What—?”

Her question died in her throat.

Narti had grabbed Keith. She had grabbed his arm for support, Acxa thought—had thought. She had grabbed him to give him support through whatever spasm had suddenly seized him. But the spasm wasn’t caused by anything to do with him. Three long, claw-like blades crafted from rift ore protruded through the front of Keith’s Paladin armor, dripping with his blood. They had been driven straight through, and Acxa recognized them. They all did. They were Narti’s blades, from her Bayard, as it took the same shape it always did for her. She had run them straight through Keith’s back, pushing them through until they cut open his stomach with three, evenly spaced wounds.

The one prolonged, solitary moment in which everything seemed frozen while they all processed what happened broke. Narti pushed Keith forward, and in the same moment pulled her blades out of his back. They retracted back into her Bayard with their customary shing-click as Keith—his eyes glazed even as they fluttered shut—collapsed. Lotor lurched forward, knees bent in a crouch, to catch him; his arm looped around Keith’s waist to support him as Keith sagged, limp and unresponsive, against his chest. The Black Bayard fell from Keith’s now slack grip and hit the floor with a clatter, but Lotor did not release his own weapon even as he wrapped his other arm across Keith’s back in a secure, though gentle, embrace.

Lotor’s expression was stricken, his voice strangled as he choked out, “Keith—”

The castle gave another lurch as something rammed against—it, Acxa supposed, or against the particle barrier—and though it was sudden, disruptive, and violent enough to cause them all to stumble once again, it was also enough of a shock to break through the lock her mind had slammed down in an effort to reject what had just happened. She didn’t—she didn’t want to accept it, but there Keith was, bleeding out—bleeding out in Lotor’s arms, and—

The shock, the reminder that they were under attack—it was all Lotor needed, too.

Acxa was only awarded a glimpse of his face—one tick to see not the rage, but the hatred in his eyes—before he jumped over Keith and threw himself at Narti, bringing his sword down in a vicious arc. He missed; Narti leaped backwards and hit the center of the staircase in a back handspring that allowed her to flip the rest of the way down.

Lotor wasn’t deterred. He didn’t hesitate for a heartbeat as he tore down the staircase after her. And Ezor, her eyes wide as she realized everything that was happening—

“No . . . Lotor, no!”

—she, too, sprinted right by Keith and took off after.

Ezor was chasing Lotor, who was chasing Narti, who was trying to escape, but Acxa had no time for any of them. She didn’t register when she hit her knees by Keith’s side, or even what she was going to do as she grasped Keith’s shoulders to try to pull him up, but the moment she realized what she was doing—as the reality of the situation kicked in, and she fought against the urge to kick herself for not taking command of the situation sooner, before it reached this point—she said, “Zethrid!”

“Yup.”

Acxa stood and stumbled backward as Zethrid swept forward and easily hauled Keith up off the floor.

#WIPs meme #series: paradigm shift #fic fix #voltron #prince lotor #keith kogane #acxa #narti #ezor #zethrid #keitor #keith & acxa #so basically the situation ends up being:#Narti escapes & is forced to pilot a stolen ship to wherever Haggar is since her cover was blown #(it's not a Lion or a Sincline ship; just a normal one)#Narti is pretty devastated over what she was made to do bc Team Revolutionary is / was her family - Keith included #& she vows that while Haggar made her coat her hands in Keith's blood that the last coat of blood on her claws #will be Haggar's #meanwhile while Team Revolutionary does manage to escape the attack they are just a mess #Keith is on life support in the medbay; it's unclear whether or not he'll survive #Ezor is in love w/ Narti & is sure there is a good reason for why she did what she did & is furious at Lotor for trying to kill her #Lotor is beside himself w/ rage & grief at Narti's apparent betrayal & Keith's potential death & is further furious #Zethrid doesn't want to admit it but tbh she agrees w/ Lotor that Narti is obviously a traitor which further infuriates Ezor #esp bc she assumes Acxa agrees w/ Lotor & Zethrid bc of how close Acxa & Keith are #(Acxa has known Keith the longest; they were each other's found family before anyone else)#Acxa honestly doesn't know what to think beyond the fact that her whole entire family has fallen apart in what feels like 5 minutes #& she cannot handle the thought that Keith might actually die - which he very well could still #later when they're alone Lotor tells Acxa to promise him she'll kill Narti next time they encounter her - bc as a distance fighter she's #the only one who safely can. & Acxa agrees tho rly this whole situation just has her miserable #it's a hot mess & it's all thanks to Haggar being evil as usual. thanks Haggar. you're the best

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butwhatifidothis · 3 years

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Do you personally believe that the war was started with good intentions? (I'm asking this to several blogs and wish to see opinions)

Ahhh, now that's a toughie.

It depends heavily on how sincere you believe Edelgard is with what she says she wants to do. If you genuinely believe that Edelgard genuinely believed war was the best - and only - way to achieve a better quality of life for those who are overlooked, weak, and/or born on the lower rung (among the myriad of other descriptors for those under privileged), then, well, yes, the war in your view would have been started with good intentions.

Me personally though? I just don't think so, really. imo there's just too many things about the war, what it ultimately resulted in, and the things brought up by CF's endings that are never said to be resolved - with Byleth, who is supposed to bring out the best of the routes' potential outcomes, being present at that - for me to honestly believe it was started with good intentions.

Edelgard states that the Kingdom and Alliance ought to be reunited back under Adrestia despite them being two independent nations with long-standing cultures separate from Adrestia (which are forgotten after the war according to CF's ending narration),

she mentions nothing of the starvation of Adrestia's citizens due to her war (you have to recruit and then talk to Ashe to find this out) (this would be fine - well, not really fine, but at least more acceptable - if, again, she hadn't been the one causing this starvation through her war),

she puts the people in direct danger in three out of four routes,

she continues her war despite initiating it with the stated goal of only taking down the Church but continuing it after she's disbanded the Church,

she lies about the Church dropping a bomb on Arianrhod to her allies in order to hide TWS' actions from them - people who pose a far more direct and larger threat to the people of Fodlan than the Church ever has, and whom she knows have already caused immense harm to her citizens in particular (Remire)

FEH mentions her not having any solid political reforms even after the war is finished which shows how little thought she put into her plans (not having an idea of what to do would be fine/more acceptable, if she hadn't started war certain that her way was the best for Fodlan. She can't say that and then also not be ready to implement some form of government without at best being wholly irresponsible),

the entire basis of the little political structure she outwardly describes would only further help the strong and do nothing for the weak (meritocracy will only elevate those with access to the means of elevation and even then is based entirely on what Edelgard views as valuable),

the people having to be spied on by Hubert constantly due to the amount of rebellions and risings that happen throughout her reign (Dorothea's paired ending with Hubert),

And with that last point mentioning endings, a large amount of CF's endings showcase that Fodlan harbors many of the traits Edelgard supposedly instigated the war for:

undue inheritance granted by birth (Sylvain and Lorenz each have an ending showcasing this to be true),

nobles holding ownership of land,

the loss of choice regarding political standing (Bernadetta being forced to take on House Varley's head position in at least two endings),

one person holding amalgamated power that wasn't rightfully theirs to begin with and that they have by forcefully taking power from others (Leicester and Faerghus being conquered, nobles being stripped of long-held power immediately after her coronation),

censorship of history being present after the war (Dorothea's paired ending with Edelgard, as well as propaganda being deployed even within the ENG ver. of the game, shown by Hubert outright saying that Edelgard hium and Byleth should "control the flow of [this] information")

With all this in mind, I can't honestly say I believe Edelgard had good intentions when starting the war. Every metric that would lean to that idea - keeping the people safe, wanting to elevate the less privileged, wanting to instate legislations that she has put ample thought in that she believes will help the people eventually, throwing away corrupt practices she perceived were being conducted by those she strove to overthrow - all don't happen. Even DLC bringing in Constance and giving Edelgard some sort of idea of what to do in one area of politics isn't stated to have done anything in the ending the support is attached to.

The best I can say for Edelgard's intentions is that she wants for humans to rely on their own strength to become strong, but even that idea is tainted by her continuation of that idea being to strip away support pillars many people rely on to get through life because they are based on a divine presence, not a human one. It means that Nabateans are not allowed to be present in Fodlan - or at the absolute minimum, allowed to hold any form of power - in her mind, because they "lack humanity." It means that the religious are weak-willed and can't survive on their own. It means that they are not allowed in her Empire, as shown by all four routes expelling them in some way (even CF, when she says before she initiates the war that Rhea as well as the servants of the Goddess must be killed in walking her path).

Like... to expand on one of the examples, Dimitri and Claude do not start the war, they have no idea that the implementation of political reforms must be made in the aftermath of war must be made, and yet their solo endings, while still vague on the exact details, give us an idea of how they're going about actually implementing the changes they want to do, with these changes being said to have a visible, positive impact on the people.

Dimitri installs a participatory government that allows for the common people to have a say in politics in order to have their voices and concerns heard directly from them as well as improving foreign relations in general, and Claude installs new trade routes between Fodlan and Almyra and sends forth Almyran reinforcements to assist in Fodlan's skirmishes with Imperial loyalists in order to foster better relations between the two nations. They are very simple explanations for how they're ruling and how they're accomplishing their goals, but they're a starting point. We have some clue as to how they get from Point A to Point B, and we see that they have a very clear, very directly positive result.

Edelgard? The one who started the war? Who started it with the presumption that she knew how best to rule it? Who knew that she needed to rule and implement changes in the aftermath of war ahead of time? She simply "reformed the class system." No how's, not even a simple one, she simply - supposedly - does it. And again, FEH (as well as some supports, like Ferdinand's) shows that she hasn't thought this through, that that part of ruling wasn't a priority for her when she started the war.

To me personally, that's not a sign of someone with good intentions. It's another sign that she mostly started the war in order to get back what she thought was rightfully hers, which was rulership of Fodlan under Adrestia's banner, with little care as to the outcome of her actions in getting that apparent birthright. None of the above results of her actions contradict this idea whatsoever, and many in fact bolster it (only she may decide who is worthy of promotion, only she may decide what the people are allowed to know of history, only under her watch may religion be allowed).

Now, does the setup of her having this intention make sense? Definitely, yeah. Being told by the one family member you have left of this supposed grand birthright that belongs to you and your country and how this evil race of godly beings is stealing it away from you and you must fight to get it back - after you've experienced the horrific lost of every single other family member you know and love to torture you were forced to witness and after you yourself were horrifically tortured and after you've come to the realization during the torture that the Goddess everyone loves and worships didn't help you - and with the torture happening to you in the first place (again, according to your one family member) because other people that aren't you and your family wanted power that rightfully belonged to you and your family....... uh, yeah, that can make more than a few people go a little extreme in their grabs for power. In that regard Edelgard is extremely sympathetic and understandable... just not good.

Again though, this is me personally! I'm not gonna sit here and say that seeing her intentions as good is an invalid view of Edelgard or anything. Hope I answered your question!

#anti edelgard #anti-edelgard #edelgard discourse #edelgard critical #just to be safe #was bout to take a nap and saw this ask lol #thought it was interestin' but imma take that nap #sorry for the long af answer lmao

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gemma-lemma · 3 years

Text

Flaming Hearts - A Nalu Fanfiction

Chapter two

When Lucy left her room the next morning, Natsu was leaning on the opposite wall already.

“Mornin’ princess.” He greeted and pushed himself off, casting a quick glance down her body while she did the same. While Lucy was wearing a navy-blue skirt and a white turtleneck, combined with white boots and a dark blue backpack, Natsu wore black jeans and a black sweater beneath his black leather jacket. Did he not know any other colours than those depressing tones?

“Good morning, Natsu.” She purred and started walking down the hall. “Were you standing there all night?”

Natsu chuckled and admitted. “No, I slept in a very comfortable bed in another wing of the estate.”

Lucy gave him a surprised look. Did that mean..? “But before you make any false assumptions, my partner was guarding your room at night, so don’t try anything in the future.” He crushed her hopes and gave her a wicked grin. He knew exactly what Lucy was thinking, and it irked her.

“Will you have breakfast with me, then?” She asked, trying to conceal her hopes by sounding as if she were up to something. She hated eating alone.

“Sadly, no. I’ve already eaten.” He said and glanced towards her as she stared strictly forward, lips pressed to a thin line. He wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret that reaction, but she gave him no further room to speculate.

“Then I will see you when I depart from the estate.” She pressed with a smile and turned around to face him one last time before entering the dining room and slamming the door behind her. Natsu looked at it baffled. Had he offended her?

During breakfast Lucy took out her phone and decided to check the Fairy Tail group chat.

Levy: What??! New bodyguards? Again?

Erza: How many more of those is your dad going to hire until he realizes that you’re able to get rid of them all?

Juvia: Lucy, be nice! Those poor guys don’t know yet what they’re dealing with.

Lucy: Then it’s time they found out, don’t you think?

The answer was almost immediate.

Juvia: But be a little nicer than you were with that Hibiscus guy from the Unicorn agency!

Levy: You mean Hibiki from Blue Pegasus?

Juvia: Yes, that one. How am I supposed to remember all their names? There were so many.

Erza: And there will be many more, so you better start remembering.

Lucy: Uhm, maybe not…

Levy: What do you mean?

Lucy: The new agency? They’re Strauss and Co. I met their boss, Mirajane Strauss, yesterday.

Erza: Strauss and Co.? Those are said to be the best! Mirajane is my absolute idol!

Juvia: What’s so interesting about her?

Erza: She was in the military before she started the agency, and from what I’ve heard the woman’s a beast! There was no mission she didn’t complete excellently, and she received loads of medals.

Levy: When she was such a great soldier, why’d she stop just to become a babysitter?

Erza: I’m not sure, they never really dropped the details. All I know is that her sister Lisanna was somehow involved, and that since Mirajane left the military, nobody has ever seen Lisanna again.

Lucy: You think she died?

Erza: I’m don’t know, but at this point I think it’s probable. But that was years ago.

Juvia: But Lucy, why did you say that maybe there wouldn’t come any more agencies?

Lucy: I’m hoping that if I just get Strauss and Co. to fail as spectacularly as possible, my father will realize that it’s useless and stop hiring bodyguards. They’re said to be the best, after all.

Levy: That sounds wicked.

Levy: You got a plan already or need some help?

Lucy: As a starter, I’m gonna start sneaking out and running away from them, beginning with Sting’s party. Oh, and I’ve got to introduce someone to you once we’re at the University.

Erza: That sounds interesting.

With a smile, Lucy put her phone away and stood up from the table. Just like before, Natsu was waiting right outside the room she was in, this time leaning next to the door.

“You ready?” He asked, and Lucy nodded. Together they walked out to the car and got in the backseat.

“We’re ready, Gajeel.” Natsu called and the driver, a man with long black hair, started the car.

“What happened to my usual driver?” Lucy asked curiously and watched Natsu lean back in his seat.

“We decided that it would be better if someone of our team would drive.” He said and watched out the window.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Lucy smiled sweetly and scooted closer to the pink haired man.

“What can you tell me about your friends?” He asked instead of answering her question and pretended not to notice how she got closer still. Of course, he knew all about her friends, but maybe this would distract her from asking further questions he didn’t want her to know the answer to. Her previous driver had turned out to be in close contact with several very intrusive paparazzi.

“Well, there’s Levy, for one. Levy McGarden.” Lucy began listing them up and he was surprised about how willing to help she seemed. “She’s a total bookworm, we often exchange books that we liked reading. She’s really sweet, but also a bit of a shark. Once she finds something interesting, she will go beyond herself to find out everything about it.”

Levy McGarden was the daughter of a very famous publisher and a slightly less famous Instagram celebrity. She was in all probability as harmless as her babyface made her look. Her and Lucy had known each other since kindergarten.

“Then there’s Erza Scarlet. She’s been one of my best friends since middle school, and she loves strawberry cake. Probably would kill for a slice. She’s the mom friend of the group, and really nice.”

Natsu frowned. Erza Scarlet was the heir to Scarlet Inc., a company that sold cars. It seemed that her parents were, just like Lucy’s father, more interested in building an empire than raising their daughter, who early on started to rebel against their plans for her. She was versed in all kinds of fighting sports and taught self-defence via videos on social media. Natsu wasn’t all too sure if she was actually as sweet as Lucy said.

“And last but not least we have Juvia Lockser. Her Mother has this great fashion label, Loxar, and she herself wants nothing more than to become a designer like her one day. She’s really cool, like the friend you can go on rollercoasters with.” Lucy concluded, and Natsu raised his brows at the odd comparison.

Juvia Lockser had transferred to Lucy’s high school in eleventh grade, and they had spent the year as sworn enemies. Apparently because of some boy they had both had a thing for, but nothing had ever been confirmed. All he knew was that they ended eleventh grade with catfight and started twelfth grade as best friends.

“Are you telling me something about your team too or will I have to figure out everything by myself?” Lucy asked, now so close that their bodies were touching, and Natsu made the mistake of turning his head to look at her. Their faces were only centimetres apart anymore and she glanced seducingly down towards his lips, before her big brown eyes met his again. For the first time Lucy realized that his eyes were not just really dark but seemed to be actually black.

Natsu cleared his throat and tried to move closer to the door, but he was already pressed against it. There was no escape from Lucy’s attempts to…yeah, what was she even doing? Trying to seduce him? Yeah, that had to be it. He wasn’t entirely sure why she was trying to in the first place, though. Was she hoping for him to make a mistake because he was distracted or to give in to her advances and get fired for it?

“Well, uh,” He stammered and cleared his throat again. “Mirajane you already met. Then there’s Gajeel, our driver.”

“What’s Gajeel’s last name?” Lucy interrupted, and he gave her a startled look.

“His last name’s Redfox. My partner, who’s guarding your room at night, is called Gray Fullbuster, then there’s Cana Alberona, who takes care that extern locations are secure. You happy ‘bout that answer, princess?”

Lucy hummed while thinking it through. Little did Natsu know that those names would wander directly to Levy, who would crack her knuckles twice and then find out everything about the team there was to know.

“What’s your last name, Natsu?”

“Dragneel.”

“Natsu…Dragneel.” She repeated slowly, and a shiver ran down Natsu’s spine. He had to give it to her: She knew the game she was playing very well.

Suddenly, Lucy retreated back to her seat, and just as Natsu gave her a puzzled look, he saw that they were right in front of the University.

“You ready, love?” She asked and looked at him through her lashes. Natsu swallowed and nodded, shaking off all the insecurity she brought up in him. Two could play the game she was playing, and it was time for him to step onto the field.

“Ready when you are, princess.” He retorted and watched, as Gajeel opened her door for her before getting out himself and walking around the car. Lucy hadn’t bothered waiting up for him, but Gajeel still stood there smirking.

“Good luck with that one, Salamander. Seems like she’s got you by the balls.”

“Fuck you, Metalhead. At least I don’t have to play the driver.” He muttered and followed after his fake girlfriend, who just at that moment reached her friends in front of the stairs.

“The pink haired one?” Levy asked curiously, and Lucy nodded.

“He’s actually my bodyguard, but he’s acting like he’s my boyfriend in public, so it doesn’t seem that obvious that I’m protected.” She whispered and watched him approach. He even had a backpack slung over his shoulder that she hadn’t noticed before.

When he reached them, he laid an arm over Lucy’s shoulder and she smiled up at him sweetly.

“Guys, that’s Natsu, my boyfriend.” She introduced him and he raised his hand in a small wave.

“Nice to meet you, girls. Lucy’s told me already so much about you.”

“And those are Erza,” the red haired one who gave him the evil eye, “Juvia,” the one with the dark blue hair who just eyed him curiously, “And Levy.” The one with the light blue hair and the glasses, who gifted him an honest smile.

“So, Natsu,” Erza spoke and Lucy tried to push down her grin. “Where did you two meet?”

“At the bookstore. We were reaching for the same book and that’s when we first noticed each other.” He chuckled and scratched his neck, and the girls almost melted into his smile. That was actually a very sweet idea, Lucy thought, but they didn’t give up so soon. After all, her friends enjoyed playing Lucy’s games at least as much as she did.

“Oh, you like to read? What genres?” Levy questioned with shining eyes. If there was anyone in the world who loved reading more than Lucy, then it was Levy. Natsu feigned thinking for a second, when he was probably actually wondering what game the girls were playing. He was pretty sure that Lucy had told them the truth already.

“I think my favourite’s probably action, though I really like YA and Romance too. The book we reached for was romance, if I remember it right. Wasn’t it, Lucy?” He thought aloud and glanced down towards the blonde who gave a slight nod.

“Yeah, it was.”

“You know, I’ve gotta say, you’re kinda pretty. I’m sure I would’ve noticed you by now.” Juvia stated and smiled wickedly. “You don’t go to this University, do you?”

They were trying to corner him, Natsu realised. They were trying to make him make a mistake, and suddenly he was very thankful for Mirajane, who always insisted that he learned every last detail of his faux background story by heart and even practiced answering questions about it.

“Well, I’ve been going to this Uni for quite a while now, but I chose to attend via online lessons. I’ve always found those more practical anyways. But since I met Lucy I want to spend as much time with her as I can, and thus am going to come to Uni in person.” He smiled just as sweetly back and could see the exact moment Juvia decided to test his limits.

Lucy snuck her arm around his waist and said: “It’s pretty late already, I think we should go inside.”

The girls agreed, and so everyone went to their lessons.

Lucy took a seat at the back of the classroom and neatly laid out her laptop, a notebook and a biro pen in front of her. Natsu simply put his backpack to his feet and slouched back in his chair.

“Are you even going to pay attention?” Lucy asked curiously and propped her chin on her hand. Natsu nodded.

“Of course I am. Just not to your chemistry lesson.”

“It’s physics, actually.” Lucy gave him a sly smile.

“Ain’t gonna pay attention to that either.” He retorted and tried not to let his embarrassment show. He should have known that.

“Of course not.” Lucy teased and directed her attention to her professor.

During the lesson Natsu kept watching the students surrounding them like an eagle. He was aware of every movement, every glance in their direction.

When Lucy turned her attention back to him, at first, he didn’t even notice, too busy glaring down a fellow student who seemed to have a little crush on the blonde beauty. Determined to focus his attention back on her, Lucy inconspicuously pushed a pen towards the edge of the table. Natsu noticed it the moment it rolled off the edge of the table but was too slow to catch it.

“Whoopsie.” Lucy feigned surprise before leaning down to get the pen that had rolled under Natsu’s seat, knowingly invading his space. Startled, he tried to scoot a little away, but there was only so far he could go before falling off his chair.

“Found it.” Lucy looked up to him with a smile, still bowed over his lap, providing a great view of her cleavage. In that moment Natsu understood perfectly how Lucy had gotten rid of all her previous bodyguards. Either they quit because the teasing was too much, or they were fired because they had given in and walked right into her trap. And if they were actually professional enough to not be affected by how she acted, she would have found a way to prove them incompetent.

“Great.” Natsu pressed and let out a breath when she sat back up again. He needed to find a way to make her give up.

When they finally left the classroom, Lucy snuck her hand into Natsu’s and leaned into his side.

“Did you find the lesson interesting, love?” She purred and batted her lashes.

“Yes, it was quite the entertainment, princess. What did you like best?” He answered, smile dripping poison. Lucy sported a smug expression.

“The part where I dropped my pen.” She bit her lip, and Natsu finally had enough. He started walking faster, trailing Lucy after him by her hand. She almost stumbled, but as quickly as he had started, he pushed her into a janitor’s room and closed the door behind them.

“What-?” Lucy stuttered, but he immediately shut her up by pressing her against a wall. There was only a little red lamp that barely lighted the room, but she could see his glowing dark eyes clear as day.

“Listen up now, princess.” He growled, one arm propped to the wall above her head, leaning down right beside her ear. “I know exactly what you’re trying to do, and I don’t like it.”

“Oh, is that was dislike looks like, love?” She interrupted, having quickly recovered from the surprise. Natsu got closer, pressing a leg between hers, hoping to wipe some of that smugness off her face. He knew it failed tremendously the moment she put a hand on his chest.

“Yes, that’s what dislike looks like. I won’t fall for your games. I’ve read your files. I know exactly how you got rid of all those before me and let me tell you that I won’t follow them. The only way you’re getting rid of me is if someone puts a bullet in my head.” With the tiniest bit of self-satisfaction, he felt Lucy’s body react to his. She wasn’t as immune as she would have liked him to think, after all. Little goosebumps appeared on her neck and went down her spine, and instead of drawing circles with her fingers like before she grabbed his sweater as her breathing got heavier. Natsu leaned back a little, just enough to look her in the widened eyes. She looked at him like a deer in headlights.

But then she grabbed his sweater tighter, and though still breathing heavily, she bit her lip and smirked. “I know where daddy keeps the guns, love.”

Natsu narrowed his eyes, trying not to let his exasperation show. How the fuck could he intimidate her if not like that?

Letting out an irritated breath, he retreated from her, and watched how she almost slipped down the wall. Looked like someone had gotten weak knees, huh?

Natsu rolled his eyes and grabbed her by the hand as soon as her knees seemed steady enough to carry her again and pulled her out of the room and to her next class.

SATURDAY

Lucy was humming while putting on her make up. She hadn’t managed to get another reaction out of Natsu for the entire week and was now determined to not let this evening flop. She had eaten about two hours before and had officially already gone to bed. It worried her a little that Natsu had known about her sneaking out in the past but she calmed her nerves by reminding herself that, in fact, everyone knew about it. That had been the whole point – to be seen and get rid of another useless team of bodyguards.

When her lipstick finally seemed to have the perfect angle, she thoughtfully eyed the cylindrical box that sat on the counter next to the sink. It was opened, and in it there was a bright pink wig Lucy usually used to sneak out and be unseen. She was still debating with herself whether or not to wear it. Did she want to be unseen or did she want to let people know she was there right away?

Carefully taking the wig out she chose the first option, thinking about remaining incognito until later at night so that her bodyguards couldn’t have a chance to crash the party earlier than she wanted them to.

When everything was finally at the right place, she picked up her phone and threw a last checking look in the mirror. The black dress she was wearing barely reached to her mid-thighs, and the v-neckline was quite revealing too. Her high heels would already have killed her feet by the time they reached the club, but she didn’t care. All Lucy cared about was that she looked smoking hot and hardly recognizable with the hot pink wig that reached straight to her shoulders. It even had bangs.

Levy: We’ll be there in ten, Lu. Same spot as always?

Lucy: Of course. See you.

To climb out the window, Lucy took her shoes off again, not wanting to fall and break her neck, and as she snuck her way through a small passage in the garden and then through that part of the bushes, knowing no one from the estate would be able to see her, she kept them dangling from her fingers. Last but not least she finally reached the gate for the delivery men and snuck through it with a security card she had stolen some time ago while seducing one.

Finally taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the fresh night air.

“Man, how I love being right.” A raspy voice broke her out of her peace, and she jolted around to see Natsu leaning on the wall, grinning cockily.

“How- how did you know?” Lucy stuttered, trying to register what was happening just now. Damn it! Natsu pushed himself off the wall and slowly started walking towards her.

“As I said before, I know about how you got rid of all the others. Doing the necessary research about what way you could get off the property so easily made me genuinely worried about the laziness of your previous bodyguards.” He explained and stood still right in front of her. Lucy swallowed hard and watch as he raised a hand to twirl a pink lock around his finger. “Nice wig, by the way. I was already wondering if you went out to just get some fun, too.”

Trying to recollect her thoughts, Lucy pushed his hand off and bowed down to put her shoes back on. She didn’t see how Natsu averted his eyes from her very revealing pose, but she sure hoped he did. When she stood back upright, she was almost as tall as him.

“So, what’s the plan now, love?” She asked and narrowed her eyes at him.

He sent her a knowing smirk. “I’m gonna bring ya back to your room and save mine and Mira’s asses. You are gonna come with me without a fight and nicely go to sleep as you announced almost three hours ago you would.”

Lucy scoffed. “And what if I won’t come with you?”

“I have no problem picking you up and carrying you, princess.”

Debating her chances of getting away from him in that kind of situation, Lucy frowned. Eventually, she raised her hands in defeat. “I don’t wanna go back. I still want to have a night out with my friends.”

“Hah, no. You’re going home.” Natsu said coldly.

“Please, I can never have some fun! And they’re already on their way here.” She pleaded and watched as his cold façade slowly started to melt.

“No, no fucking way. You’re not going to some party just because you don’t like your life, princess. Out of the question, your friends are gonna have to turn around.”

“Please, Natsu! Let me go and I swear that I’ll be nice. Don’t take this away from me too.” Lucy boldly laid her hands on top of his crossed arms and he glanced down for only a moment before sending her a warning glare.

“You’re gonna stay by my side, you hear me? The first time I can’t see you for more than three seconds will be the moment we go home.” He instructed gruffly and opened up his arms so her hands would fall off. Instead, she darted forward and threw her arms around his neck to embrace him in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Natsu! You’re the greatest!” She cheered, genuinely grateful but none the less already thinking of some kind of plan B.

#lucy heartfilia #Juvia Lockser #natsu dragneel #Mirajane Strauss #Levy McGarden #gajeel redfox #cana alberona #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #bodyguardau #erza scarlett

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namorres · 4 years

Text

→ A MISSING PIECE. ∞ E. MIKAELSON

wc | 4.5k

warnings | fluff, a lil bit of sadness but not too much, klaus being an ass

note: this is my first fic in this entire fandom, and i really do hope i do his amazing character justice. :)

masterlist

A marriage to a Mikaelson was unheard of. They did not love others, too concentrated on their own family to make it any bigger, and those unlucky enough to fall for one of them would surely find their demise rather quickly.

Rebekah was never able to keep a man, her brother, Klaus, always making sure of such. No man was good enough for his sister, you see, so therefore the only option for them if they were to suddenly fall for her, was to die. He did not see a grey area, where they might love her, be with her because of her, no. He was a man of black and white – one either loved or hated someone, and rarely did he see love as an option.

Klaus himself wasn’t one to love. He did not believe in such things, too selfish and arrogant to care for anyone more than he did for himself. It was a game of self-preservation, something he’d say when he tried to justify it, there was no time for such silly little matters. Family was the most important, anyway, and as far as family came for Klaus, they, too, were easily pushed out of the picture. If they bored him, got in his way one too many times, they were greeted with a dagger to the chest and a few decades in a box, carried wherever he went. He did not ever let them go, but he did not let them live alongside him, either. Truly, Klaus Mikaelson was the loneliest, most broken sibling of the family, and his case was a curious one.

As for the eldest brother, Elijah, he was the one that rarely fell. He did not try to jeopardize his connection to his family with such matters of love, but truly, there were times he could not help himself. A woman of perfection, a woman that absolutely held his immortal heart in her hands, a woman he would give his life for, would be one such occasion. There was one woman, though, that could not keep him. She was a human, from when he was a much younger vampire who had not yet lived through a millenia of torture and sacrifice and bloodshed, and he had fallen harder for her than he could have imagined. However, his brother, Klaus, saw to it that her life was a living hell, being so involved with the Mikaelson’s and their horrible past. He was the reason she died – blamed for murder, accused of witchcraft which she had no part in, and therefore burned. She was burned, and along with her, Elijah Mikaelson’s heart. For centuries after, the eldest brother did not connect with anyone. He did not care for anyone in that certain way.

Then, came along another woman, three centuries later. Once again, a woman of perfection, someone Elijah could not even compare Aphrodite herself to. She was beautiful, she was intelligent, she was everything that Elijah had ever asked for in a woman. Above all, though, she was recklessly in love with the Original, regardless of his true self, regardless of the baggage he carried in the form of a little brother. Elijah claimed her as his own, and for ten years, the two were inseparable, completely and totally in love. The family had taken a liking to her, fallen for her as a sister.

And then Klaus took that all away from him. A nasty fight, a blood-filled feed from the hybrid after she had touched a nerve. Elijah was unable to help, unable to do much to stop his brother because of his own ailments, and she was on the brink of death. Once Klaus had finished drinking from her, her body dropped, head falling hard against the ground. Elijah would not lose her to Klaus, would not lose another woman that he loved to his angry younger delinquent brother. He bit his own wrist, forced her to drink his blood. She would heal, he told himself, she would be able to get back up and he could take her away from all of this. But as soon as she was well, Klaus decided he was not finished. With no regard for his older brother’s begging to leave her be, to leave her out of his rage, he snapped her neck.

He solidified her fate, in only a moment. She awoke later that night, fed, and forever sealed the letter on who she was to become. Elijah mourned for her first, trying his best to calm her fear of becoming something like Klaus – a monster with barely any humanity left in the tiny, lifeless heart that beat in his chest. Another decade passed before she was finally okay with herself, another decade spent with the love of her life.

She proposed to him, one night under a dark, moonless sky, that they should marry, that she was tied to him and that his siblings saw her as family. He was… reluctant at first, for fear that she would be caught up in far worse, but she bargained, made him realize that she was already caught. So, on the twenty-second year of their eternal relationship, she took his last name. She became a Mikaelson.

She and Elijah were like a King and Queen above the rest of the family, regardless of her humility, her humanity that ran thick through her veins. They fed, yes, but she was in control, standing by the side of her love with the most powerful feeling surging in her chest. Pride. Pride in what she had, pride in who she was, pride in who she loved.

And then he was gone. For forty years, the King and the Queen, quick to forgive, loving, and violent when challenged, ruled with and over the small family, and then just like that, the Queen was alone and her King was shoved in a box with a dagger in his chest. Klaus had taken from her everything – her family, her love, her lifeline. He took her humanity, her forgiveness. And he ran.

Years were nothing when your life was eternal, this was true. Forty years were a mere four to a vampire. A century only a decade. For another century and a half, the lone Mikaelson stayed to herself, became nothing but a shadow. Her ring – a silver band with Elijah’s name engraved on the inside, with a blue gem in the center to allow it to be a daylight ring, was cold on her fingers, but never removed. She loved him. She would not leave him. She would be there the day he woke.

She tailed Klaus, followed him wherever he went, but never in person, and only with a locater spell. Once he arrived in Mystic Falls, she caught word of the havoc he wreaked, heard of the times he woke his siblings and then put them back down as if they were nothing. Then, he fled to New Orleans. When he arrived, she heard of it rather quickly. She was furious.

“What do you mean he’s back in New Orleans?” She yelled to Marcel, who stood against the railing of the upper level of the compound, a rather joyous party going on beneath them.

“He’s back, Y/n,” he said lowly, “I don’t know why, I just know that he is.”

“He will not live to leave,” she growled, fingers gripping the railing so tightly her knuckles went white. She took a breath in, soothing the anger that ran through her chest and made her blood boil. There was a moment of silence, and then she looked down at her hands, her grip loosening, “If he’s back, that means so is…” Tears burned at the back of her eyes, her lip quivering.

“That means so is Elijah,” Marcel finished for her, looking down at his hands. When he looked up again, she was staring out into the crowd, lost in her thoughts. A gentle hand fell on her shoulder and he gave a small squeeze, thumb rubbing against the bare skin of her collarbone. “You will find him again.”

She looked at Marcel and smiled, but it quickly faded. “Yes.”

A century and a half without her husband had left Y/n Mikaelson cold. She did not know love like she did with Elijah, did not know desire or want or passion. She knew happiness, yes, but it was a fleeting one that ran when she was alone to sleep in the bed she should have shared with her Elijah.

A tear slipped from her eye, and she shook her head, “I will not be weak.”

Marcel said nothing, looking over his trusted friend, something of a mother to him, gave her one last squeeze of the shoulder, and nodded. “I have to go speak with the reason this party is happening tonight,” he said, referring to the people who were very willing to deliver money into Marcel’s hands if they could have just a sample of what his empire held. “If you need anything, you come find me.”

She watched as Marcel walked into the party, blending well with the crowd. This was his element – had been since the first time Klaus had left New Orleans with his siblings, and was now. She smiled, briefly, at hearing his booming laughter, but it almost instantly faded whenever her focus shifted to who had just entered the party.

Elijah Mikaelson.

His hair was shorter than she’d remembered – a haircut that was not at all offensive to her. He looked healthy, not a day over twenty-two, as he always had. Her heart surged at the thought of hearing his voice again, at holding him again, but something in her made her feel cold, with a white kind of ice sitting in the back of her mind. She saw him, standing there, looking around, likely for Marcel, and she panicked. Just as his eyes turned to where she was standing, she was gone, having raced off somewhere that he wasn’t going to even bother looking. She noticed the furrow in his brow, the slight wrinkle that formed just at the top of the bridge of his nose in confusion, and she smiled, sadly.

He was gone by the end of the night, and Y/n had not been sure where, but she knew she could likely guess where Klaus would have gone if he did not have the compound to come back to. Marcel found her after the party was over, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared herself down in the mirror, thinking, hoping, hurting.

“You saw him tonight, didn’t you?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom.

“Yes,” she said quietly, rubbing the water from her face and sniffling. “He looks just as he did a century and a half ago. Handsome, but with a haircut.”

Marcel snickered, eyes falling down as he shook his head, “That is the perk of our curse, you know. The whole ‘never-aging’ thing.”

She laughed small, “Yes, I’m aware.” There was a beat of silence, “I’m… I’m afraid, Marcel.”

His smile had faded, a look of worry and care in his eyes as his eyebrows creased, “I know, Y/n. But you know he still loves you–”

“How am I supposed to know that, Marcel?” She asked, her voice no louder than a whisper, water pooling in her eyes once more. “How am I supposed to know that I even matter anymore. This is not the first he’s been awake in the last three years, it’s highly likely he found another woman to catch his–”

“Hey, hey,” he walked over to her vanity, crouching down beside her and placing a warm hand on her thigh, “enougha that. You wanna know somethin’?”

“Hm?”

“He had his ring on– the wedding band you showed me. He was wearing it,” his eyes bounced between hers, and she let out a breath, a sob almost, and she began to cry. He stood, pulling her into his body and holding her to the best of his ability. His hands stroked through her hair, and he planted a soft kiss to the top of her head, “He still loves you, Y/n. You have time to see him. Take the opportunity when it presents itself. Go to him.”

She would heed his advice. But it would take time. After the first night of seeing him, for three or four nights after, she could not bring herself to even leave the compound, for fear of seeing him bouncing about in the French Quarter. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him – no, God, never that. It was simply that she wasn’t sure he wanted to see her. What if he only wore the band because he’d forgotten to take it off, or perhaps it doubled as a daylight ring for him as well, and he was unable to locate the other one that usually resided on his middle finger.

Perhaps the latter scenario was a bit ridiculous, in hindsight. But, nevertheless, she was terrified, yet she yearned to see him again.

After a week, she finally found it in herself to leave, walking out onto the streets of the French Quarter. It was really to go to Rousseau’s, because she’d been craving one of Camille’s signature “secret” drinks, and she figured that it would be best if she owned up to the idea that she was going to have to face him at some point.

As she entered the establishment, her eyes landed on a man sitting at the bar, stealing Cami’s attention. The bartender smiled, looking up at whoever the mysterious man was through her lashes, and Y/n wore a devious but adoring smile. Then the man turned to the side, for just a moment, but it would take nothing more than a second for her to recognize such a profile.

Klaus.

Anger bubbled up again, thick in her veins and loud in her mind. She was going to hurt him, she was going to snap his neck and make him suffer for a second, even if it was just a minor inconvenience to him. And then Cami looked up over his shoulder at her, she waved, and Y/n was stuck. She was going to have to go to the bar and say something to her friend, and she was going to have to face Klaus.

Or she could act like she wasn’t Y/n, she could play coy, dumb. But it would never work. Klaus knew her too well.

Taking the agonizing steps to the bar, she let out a sigh and gave her friend a small grin, “Hey, Camille.”

“Y/n, please, what did I tell you about calling me that?” She laughed, throwing her towel over her shoulder. Klaus’s head snapped to the right at hearing the name, and he wore a devilish grin when he saw her.

Y/n pretended not to notice, continuing to smile and make small talk, “How’s it been?”

“Well, it’s been rather slow, to be honest. Customers in and out but only the regulars – must be something about the Quarter this time of year,” she laughed.

Y/n nodded, agreeing before Cami said she would be right back with the drink Y/n liked most. Sighing, she sat down and stared at her hands.

“Y/n Mikaelson,” Klaus muttered under his breath, accented words stabbing at her ears, “long time no see, sister.”

Her eyes flitted from her hands to the bottles lined on the wall in front of her, her jaw clenching tightly. She scoffed lightly, then turned to him with a sneer, “Spare me this conversation, Klaus. I do not wish to hear your dreaded voice.”

“But you do wish to see Elijah, yes?” He prodded. He always prodded.

“That is not your concern,” she said, voice flat. “Nothing I do is of your concern.”

Camille came back with her drink, and Y/n thanked her, asking for a to-go cup instead of a glass. Cami pulled one from behind the bar, taking the glass and pouring the drink in for her. She thanked her again, sticking a straw through the top of the cup and pulling away from the bar aggressively.

“I can take you to him, you know?” Klaus offered as she walked away, turning around in his seat.

“Yes, I know you can. But I would rather take a stake to my heart than trust you,” she said, words spoken over her shoulder.

“That can be arranged!” He called, standing from the barstool and following her to the door of the bar. “Y/n, you do want to see him don’t you?”

“Of course I do, Klaus!” She yelled, staring him directly in the eye and gripping her plastic cup, “But as I said – it does not concern you. Nothing about me concerns you. You made sure of that the minute you took the love of my life and shoved him in a goddamn box and ran,” she paused, her chest heaving from the words spat like venom to the blonde man in front of her, “like the coward you are.”

He scoffed, looking away from her, “I do apologize, sister, but I am sure Elijah would love to see you. He has missed you.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and her brows furrowed, her lips parting. It took her a second, but then she whispered, “I will see him on my own terms. You will not have any part in it.” She turned over her shoulder and walked out of Rousseau’s, tears beginning to well in her eyes once more. She was frustrated, that was for sure – she just gave up a solid chance to see her husband again, but if Klaus was involved, she would give it up again and again until the hybrid decided he was too bored to be bothered.

Another few days passed before she saw any of the Originals. It almost made her forget there was even a chance of seeing her husband again. Almost.

The compound was full of vampires needing guidance, freshly turned and older alike, confused and hurt and alone. The Nightwalkers were her favorite to deal with, for no other reason than they were still kids at heart, still young and wanting to live the life that no longer existed for them.

She had just sent them out to have their little soiree about the French Quarter, a once in a blue moon event, when she heard the whispers that were all too familiar. She did not see where he had gone, nor where he had stopped, but she knew he was there. She knew he was watching. Her heart leaped to her throat, and she thought of the ridiculousness of this meeting, but then she could not bring herself to keep the hopeful smile off of her face. Perhaps Marcel had had something to do with it, or Klaus – as much as she doubted the idea that he would help her in any way, shape or form.

Sighing to herself, she leaned forward against the railing, hands as far out as they could reach, her eyes looking up to the windows in the roof. A smile traced her lips and she said, quietly, “You know I was never one for a game of hide and seek.”

“And I have never been one to lose such a game,” he whispered in her ear, his hands ghosting over her hips. As she went to move back, he was gone again, and she laughed.

“Elijah,” she said, another giggle tumbling from her lips, “I am not good at this game! You know this!”

“All the more reason to keep playing,” he called from a different corner of the room, making her attention snap to it. He was not there, of course, but one could hope that they would beat Elijah at a game like this. She could always hope.

“My love,” she said, twisting the ring over her finger, “I have missed you.”

The whispers echoed through her mind again, and when she turned away from the rest of the room, he was standing at the window, back to her. Tears stang at her eyes, just like every other time she thought of seeing him, touching him, and she said his name quietly. He turned over his shoulder, eyes focused on the ground before he looked at her.

A smirk, the smirk she had grown so fond of, was drawn on his lips and his brown eyes were soft, staring at her through his lashes. She stood for a moment, staring, breath caught between her mouth and her lungs. She could not begin to describe the fluttering feeling erupting in her chest and her stomach, could not begin to understand why seeing him after so long made her start to cry. She could only comprehend that she needed to make sure this was real, that this was no dream or spell or hex from a witch.

Her boot hit the ground softly, her best attempt at closing the gap between the two. Elijah’s eyes dropped to the ring on his finger, his thumb subconsciously twisting it around. A nervous tick he was never able to break, something she found an intimate familiarity in. He matched her steps, slow and careful before he was almost chest to chest with her, his brown eyes dancing between her own, his hand ghosting over her cheek and his fingertips just barely gracing her skin. She craved his touch, craved feeling any contact from him.

“My love,” he said quietly, his voice deep and raw and vulnerable, “it has been… much too long.”

Her hand came up to his, pressing it to her cheek as she cupped it with her own. A breath escaped her husband’s chest, his thumb caressing her cheekbone as he admired each of her features – wholly unchanged, but entirely foreign to him, almost. “Yes,” she said smally, “yes it has.”

She stepped impossibly closer, cupping his face with her delicate touch and pulling him to her lips. It was small at first, the kiss they shared. But it quickly escalated, a century and a half of built-up tension and sorrow and longing and love releasing itself as quickly as it could. Elijah’s hands fell to her hips, then kept traveling, one planting itself on her lower back, the other on her head. Her own palms ventured, taking in the fabric of the suit he wore, the prickly fuzz of the scruff that had begun to grow on the side of his neck.

Her back hit the wall in a moment, her fingers in his hair and her legs hiked up on his waist. They did not say much – there was no need. Everything that needed to be said could be saved until later, until the matter at hand was resolved.

Desire was a beautiful thing between a couple that had lasted for over two hundred years.

It was not long before they found themselves in her bedroom, sweatied and naked in her bed, tangled in the sheets that were always meant for the two of them. Her head rested on his bare chest, his fingers tracing her skin in abstract patterns as he stared at the ceiling, and occasionally glanced at her beauty.

“I like your hair, love,” she said quietly, a giggle attaching itself to the last word.

He let out a huff of a laugh, head falling to the side before he looked at her as she propped herself up on his chest, “Why… thank you. I figured it would be more than fitting for the times.”

She smiled, placing a kiss on his chest, then another, then another, all the way up until she reached his mouth. “You do not know what it has been like without you, Elijah.”

“I am,” he breathed out, looking over her features as best he could, trying to memorize something he’d seen time and time and time again, “terribly sorry. You know I would never leave you, I gave you my word and I do not break my promises.”

“Yes,” she smiled smally, “I know this. I am not angry with you, my love. I have never been. But a century and a half does weigh on a woman, if you’d believe me.”

He laughed again, a smile that was intimate, especially for her, gracing his lips, “I’m afraid I do.”

She scoffed, hand flying to her chest in mock offense, “Are you saying I look old, Elijah! That is– that is unforgivable Elijah Mikaelson.”

He let out a rather loud chuckle, hand rubbing up and down her arm, “My darling, you haven’t aged a day – your beauty is as timeless as vampires themselves. Though,” he sucked a breath through his teeth, “a few wrinkles have presented themselves where they–”

“That’s it!” She called, climbing on top of him, grabbing the pillow she had been laying on and threatening to hit him with it. He only gave her his smug grin, and she quirked a brow before smacking it off of his face with her feather-filled weapon. He let out a grunt, trying to defend himself to the best of his ability but unable to sit up. “You may be immortal, but no one can survive an onslaught of pillow, darling.”

“Oh yeah?” He challenged, grabbing the pillow and stopping her swing, looking at her just underneath it. She tried to push against him, but it was no use – he had the upper hand. She ceded, letting the pillow drop as she took in her husband for the millionth time that night. He gripped her around her waist, pulling her into his torso as best he could with how close they already were. His lips fell to her neck, sharp teeth grazing the skin lovingly. She sighed into his touch, body almost jelly in his hands. Planting a few soft kisses along her collarbone and shoulder, he lifted his head and looked her in the eye, pushing a few strands of her from her face, “I love you, Y/n.”

She pressed a kiss to his lips as softly as she could, a promise to make to him, “I love you, Elijah. I will always love you.”

He looked so vulnerable at that moment, mouth slightly agape and eyes darting over every inch of her they could see, “Always and forever,” he muttered. Then he looked up at her again, seeking the approval, the affirmation that only she could give him, that he only ever required from her.

“Always and forever, my love.”

#elijah mikaelson x reader #the originals x reader #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diaries imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine #*my fics #*ash #*e. mikaelson #*mikaelsons #the originals #elijah mikaelson

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reliciron · 4 years

Text

Eternal Empire After Effects

In addition to that post I made a while back about how your characters deal with either the boost in Force sensitivity or the brand new sensitivity for your smugglers/troopers/agents/bounty hunters. I want to talk about the general fucked up-ness that the Commander has to deal with post-KotET.

Like DAMN. Bare minimum, they’ve had to deal with carbonite poisoning, the general mind games of Valkorian, and then they had their mind literally broken in the last chapter. At worst, they get all that, plus taking a lightsaber to the gut. To say nothing of having to fight an impossible war for a little over a year straight with everyone’s hopes and dreams riding around on their shoulders.

A lot of the posts I’ve seen about other people’s ocs has some form of lingering effects from everything. And I just want to talk about it for a minute, cause I live for filling in the scenes we don’t see. [Take this with a grain of salt, as I’ve never played a dark side character, so my perspective will be skewed.]

Long term physical effects:

They were poisoned slowly over the course of 5 years, you can’t tell me that one little dart thing can fix that, at least not right away. This could take the form of lingering nausea, migraines, dizziness. The symptoms of heavy metal poisoning would fit well here. And I hc my consular as having some permanent nerve pain from it.

The stab on Asylum is absolute bullshit in the game. Valkorian or no, there’s no way they’d be walking out. I think I posted a pic I took before, but the stab is easily close enough for the heat transfer to damage the spine. Bone cracks and warps with heat, so you can see the problem there. The wound is almost dead on for where the stomach sits and the lungs, liver, kidney, and intestines are all in range to get badly burnt (yeah I know, alien anatomy might be different, but we’re assuming its mostly the same).

We’ve seen what a lightsaber can do to a blast door in The Phantom Menace, take that and apply it to a person, and Arcann held that blade there a loooong time.

Yes, Valkorian saves them, but I think of it more as he kept them from dying, and not, he completely stopped the blade from cooking them from the inside out. So the three days Lana mentioned are horseshit. The Gravestone’s tiny ass med-bay is absolutely not equipped to handle an injury like this.

I always figured a better way was Valkorian kept them alive long enough for Lana to threaten her way onto an appropriate station and made the doctors fix them. Even so, getting what amounts to several organ transplants, implants to bypass possible spinal chord damage, replacement ribs and vertebra, and a whole lot of skin and muscle grafts will leave your Commander pretty messed up, even with magical Star Wars tech and Force magic. And their allotted recovery time seems to be the length of the base’s construction on Odessen, so there’s no way in hell they’re really done healing by the time they have to go back out into battle.

Specific injuries aside, a year is a long time to fight more or less constantly. At least during the base game you sort of had rests between chapters. They’re gonna rack up an impressive list of injuries, alongside wear and tear like their knees and feet having trouble from the constant running and jumping. And their elbows and shoulders will break down from hours upon hours of absorbing the recoil of a gun or the constant flurry and clash of a lightsaber.

Long term mental effects:

As ugly as the physical stuff is, the mental effects are just as bad. Depending on what class they are, having the goddamn Sith Emperor riding shotgun in their head will fuck them up big time.

Classes who faced off with him more-or-less directly, like the Knight, Consular, and Warrior, are going to have the worst time of it because they KNOW what this sort of thing leads to. The warrior has seen the dead eyed puppet on Voss and knows that could be them soon. The consular had to deal with the emperors children and the First Son. They’ve seen a prominent and powerful Jedi master absolutely crumple under the power of the emperor and he wasn’t even IN there. And Knights have already experienced the emperor’s control first hand.

Not to say the others won’t have trouble with it, it’s just that the reasons will be a little less direct. The smuggler and bounty hunter are used to being their own people, not tied down to anything or accountable to anyone, and now there’s the threat that everything they have will be taken from them and there’s no amount of sneaking or shooting that will save them. Troopers built up their command from basically nothing and now they’re Republic heroes, but Valkorian now threatens the lives of everyone they’ve sworn to protect. The agent is easy, they’ve suffered mind control before, they’ve been slaves in their own body, and they’re terrified of it happening again. And inquisitors were literal slaves who clawed their way to the top, and they’d sooner die than be a slave again.

So just having that asshole there means constant stress for the whole of KotFE and KotET. Insomnia must be a given. How do you know you’ll wake up as YOU? That Valkorian won’t hollow you out in your sleep and walk around in your skin the next day? And for the Knight, Agent, and Inquisitor, I’d think panic attacks are probably a thing, even if they don’t let anyone see it.

The stab will definitely cause some trauma. Pretty sure any wound that gruesome would. And if they didn’t have nightmares before, they sure do now and I’m willing to bet that they might shy away from lightsabers for a while, which leaves an interesting dilemma considering they’re in a war with Force-users, and some of them are Force-users themselves.

Fighting a guerrilla war with an absurdly powerful adversary has to be incredibly taxing, especially for classes who’ve never had to command anything. Smugglers and Bounty Hunters are very screwed here, assuming they care about running the Alliance well. And the burden of saving the galaxy is a heavy one. I can definitely see classes who have saved the galaxy multiple times to be getting increasing bitter about always having to be the one to clean up the messes. Why are THEY the ones who always have to suffer? Why isn’t there ever a hero to save THEM when they need it?!

Agents get their own little special bit here with the bullshit that is Vaylin’s conditioning. They know exactly the kind of misery she’s going through, the powerlessness that one single phrase or word causes. I can understand that the writers couldn’t figure out or bother with a whole separate scene of the agent refusing to use the conditioning, cause then they’d have to figure out how to not have Vaylin murder them on the spot. But goddamn we could’ve at least seen them struggle with it! Maybe an extra few lines of them pleading with Vaylin because they desperately don’t want to use her control phrase. Ugh, at least behind the scenes an agent can have a break down about how they’ve become exactly like the intelligence officers who’d decided that they were too much of a liability to go without a leash they could pull. And now they’ve pulled an identical leash on Vaylin.

And then we have their mind being broken. That could be a post in and of itself. Valkorian came within a hair’s breadth of destroying them entirely, and they were so broken that they didn’t even know their own name. And in the space of 10 or so minutes, they scrape themselves together and fight a god. It’s very impressive (and I’ve got my own issues with that fight) but I don’t think you can pull yourself together that fast after being that messed up without some lingering issues.

Chronic insomnia and night terrors, full blown PTSD, panic disorders, severe anxiety; something THAT traumatic will absolutely leave marks.

And after that? They just keep going. Yeah, things calm down, but they’re still at the head of a very powerful faction now (if not ruling Zakuul), there’s no going back after this. And they’ve got a massive restoration project ahead of them as tensions continue to simmer between the Republic and Empire. The more dutiful characters must be near the end of their rope. There’s no rest, just the next fire to put out, and they continue to run themselves into the ground. And the more flighty characters are now forever shackled by the Alliance. There’s no flying off into the sunset for them. No more anonymity as a bounty hunter or smuggler. Their old life is over, whether the wanted it or not. And how can they really relax when there’s this many people looking at them for direction. They’ve become just like those asshole military leaders who they used to mock.

And for just about all of my characters, they hide it. No one can know that they’re falling apart at the seams. Either it’s about personal pride and acting unphased cause they’re just THAT good, or because they’re trying to be the leader the Alliance deserves and don’t want to disappoint or frighten them by showing just how badly they’re coping. Either way there will be a breaking point.

And even after it all comes out in the open, and they (hopefully) get the help they need. It’s never completely over. Chronic pain and fatigue, depression and anxiety, persistent insomnia; these things don’t just disappear, they’re an ongoing struggle that helps color their future actions.

I just… I really like considering things like this because it hits close to home. Seeing them struggle with some of the things I deal with makes them feel more like people. Cause god knows the writers aren’t gonna put this kind of stuff in there.

#swtor #mental health discussion #chronic pain discussion #physical injury discussion #kotet #kotfe #relicwrites

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