#nothing will convince me that man doesn't hate women | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettypinkporkchop · 1 month

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Can I request a Paul x reader where Paul imprinted on reader but they just fucking hate him because reader and Paul where like each other's worst enemy's before he shifted and Paul has to convince reader that he's not the worst person on earth

YESSSSSS I GOTCHU

The Love side

Paul Lahote.

Your enemy.

All through school, he has hated you, and you've hated him. It's because he had beaten up your good friend. Not only that, but he was a player, and you HATE players. He tried to get in bed with you once at a party, but you slapped him.

"Oh, you've done it y/l/n. Watch yourself, little girl." He spits and shoves past you. "Fuck. You." You turn around. He stops, faces you, and then smiles. "I will make you regret that."

He sure did. Every day, he would make fun of you. He threatened to beat up your friend again just to make you mad. His exact words were, "I don't hit women. But I will make y/n cry."

One day, he stopped showing up. He was gone. It was the best feeling ever. You were free. When he came back, you were angry. You had a class together, and you ended up locking eyes.

That is when everything fell apart. Now, you have to be around him. He has to be around you. His mean attitude has slightly changed. But, you give him attitude which upsets him. You kind of love making him mad in hopes this stupid imprint thing goes away. Your dynamic annoys the pack. They wish you guys would just shut up and be a healthy relationship.

Here you guys are, in his truck.

"You are one stupid boy, Paul." You yell at him because you saw a girl he had fucked in high school. "Don't be childish. She means nothing." He growls and starts the truck. You step out and make your way down the rocky dirt road.

He jumps out too and grabs your elbow. "In the truck, now." He says sternly. You push him back, but he doesn't budge. "Don't call me childish when YOU are the man whore!"

"Why does it matter to you anyway?!" He yells and steps closer to you. His breathing is rough. "Because you imprinted on me, and I'm jealous. But I'm mad, and I know I mean nothing. You will hurt me, too." His breathing slows down. "I'll never hurt you. You need to understand that." He says quietly.

That night, you knock on Paul's bedroom door. He HAS to have you at his house during the night, or else he can't protect you due to territory issues with the vampires. Thankfully, you sleep on the couch.

He opens the door, and you stare at him with annoyance. "Ya know, the couch is very uncomfortable." You cross your arms. "Bro, I'm not in the mood. Just take the bed." He pushes past you. "I'm not sleeping in your nasty bed. I'm going home." You argue. You walk back to the living room to put your stuff in your bag. He grabs your arm with a firm grip, pulling you up to face him. "You're not going anywhere." He glares. "I. Hate. You." You hiss. Something in his eyes changed. "I don't like when you say that." His voice is still stern. You scoff and cross your arms. "Dude, like I care. You're a piece of shit. You're only keeping me around so that you don't have to deal with the physical pain of being away from me."

Something inside Paul had caught on fire. His heart is actually breaking. He can't take this anymore! He does love you.

"Can you at least stay with Emily? Kim?" He asks softly. "Okay." He sighs of relief, and you notice how genuine he seems.

'It's only because of the imprint.'

He drives you to Emily and Sam's.

You and Emily ended up staying up watching movies on the couch. You guys ended up having a deep 3 a.m girl talk.

"I'm just so mad about it being him!" You groan in your tired state. She yawns and nods her head. "I know, sweetie. Just tell me, would you ever change your mind about him?" She adjusts the blanket over her.

You take a big deep long breath, thinking.

"Mm, he'd have to really show me. He's hurt so many people. He played with girls' hearts. He was a fuck boy! Geez." You put your hand over your face. "Well, let the universe take part. Sit back and see what happens. Be nicer to him. It's not a forced bond. There's always been something there." She smiles.

You wake up to Emily cooking in the kitchen. You sit up and walk to the table, sitting down. "Oh! I hope I didn't wake you." She awkwardly bites her lip. "You did, but it's because of food, so I'm not complaining." You giggle.

You realize you look bad. Pajamas, hair's a mess, no makeup.

You go to their bathroom with your bag and fix yourself up.

You step out and see the pack sitting around. You see Paul looking down at his hands that are placed on the table.

Emily's advice plays in your head. Be nicer. You will be, but you won't give in until he shows he's a good guy. You refuse to get hurt.

You walk up to him and kneel down beside him. He looks down at you, confused. "You alright?" You ask kind of nicely? He looks surprised and smiles at you. "Uhm, I will be." He breathes out.

His brown eyes are stuck on yours. His mood has lifted a bit because you acknowledged him and somewhat showed you care. This is a good sign to him.

You stand up and see the boys side eyeing you and eating. "Y/n, I left something on my couch for you. You actually left it." He looks up at you.

What could you have left?

"Thanks." You say dryly. Paul stands up and pushes the chair in. "I'll drive you." He offers. Kim notices your face. She stands up and puts a hand on your shoulder. "I'll take you, y/n. I'll drop you off at home after you pick it up."

You look at her and nod your head, "thank you." You smile.

Being somewhat nice to Paul is hard.

You open the door to Paul's house and walk over to his couch. There's a brown paper bag with handles. You open it up.

Inside is a tiny black box. You open it, and there's a necklace. It's a beautiful necklace that you have been looking at for a while. It's expensive as shit! "No. Fucking. Way." You mumble. Under the necklace is a note. You pick up the necklace, placing it down on your lap, and open the piece of paper.

'I swear, when I think of you, the mountains before me move. Believe me when I say this: I love you.'

You forget how to breathe. Your hands become shaky. You put the note down and open the bag again. A fluffy blanket that's swirled and tied with ribbon into a bow. In the ribbon is another note.

'For when my blanket is too gross for you to sleep in. I promise I do clean them.'

You giggle a little bit. You dig inside again, and there's a bracelet. He definitely made it.

You put on the necklace and bracelet. You put the blanket back in the bag and walk back to Kim's car. "What was it?" She asks. "A blanket!" You giggle.

You're settling in at home. You did laundry, some work on your laptop, and made yourself food.

You sit on your bed, scrolling through tiktok. Your phone dings.

Paul: how are you feeling?

Y/n: good. Thank you for the gifts.

Paul: you're welcome, beautiful. I have a question.

Y/n: what

Paul: date?

You groan in annoyance. Your mind plays out every mean thing he said to you before phasing. All of the girls he had hurt. The innocent dudes he fought because they breathed wrong.

But, his beautiful eyes. His sexy face. His body. His hands. His smile. His laugh. His electrifying touch.

Y/n: it's going to take a lot of convincing to get me to be yours.

Paul: I know. I'll wait forever.

Y/n: did you make the bracelet?

Paul: yes ma'am. I'm sorry if you don't like it. I can redo it for you.

What a suck up!!!

Y/n: it's perfect.

A couple of days later, the pack is at Jacob's house. They're helping him fix up a motorcycle. You, Emily, and Kim join in.

You girls sit on lawn chairs near the garage. Emily looks at your wrist and smirks. "Things going well?" She asks. You lean back in the chair and sigh. "I mean, I'm being nice.... enough. He's showering me in gifts. He's trying to take me on a date." You roll your eyes. "What's so bad about that? He's showing you he wants you and only you." Kim says. You know this deep down. But, it doesn't change who he was... is. You don't know anymore.

Paul, Jared, and Sam make their way to you girls. Paul smiles at you and gently grabs your hand. You leave it like that for two seconds but wiggle your hand out of his grip. He doesn't say anything.

"I want to show you something, if you'll let me." He looks at you with almost a pleading face. You get curious and look around his face for any sign of something bad.

It's just sweetness. You can feel the passion radiating off of him. "Okay, Paul." You actually say his name without anger.

This makes his heart jump. His stomach does a flip. He just wants to take you by the hand and kiss you.

You lock your fingers with his and stand up.

He leads you into the woods. "There's a specific spot. You okay?" He turns to face you. You guys have been walking for a hot while. "I'm fine." You lie. Your feet are killing you. He squints at you and then walks to you. He lifts your bridal style. "What the hell?" You squirm. "I can tell your feet are hurting. Let me help you."

Finally, you guys get to this stream of water. There are rocks planted perfectly like a path. The sound of the water is soothing. There is a tree that has fallen, which is where he places you down.

"I was patrolling and found this. It made me think of you." He sits next to you. You look over at him as he watches the stream.

"Ya know, I never meant to hurt those girls in school. I was punishing myself." He sighs. You turn your body to his. You're shocked he's opening up.

"I never hated you. I was trying to stop myself and you from ever falling. But I've always liked you. I was just young, dumb, oblivious." He looks at you. "I'd do anything for you. I hope you believe me. I'm sorry for how I was. I will forever live with that guilt, and I deserve it. I deserve no pity. But, I am so sorry." He shakes his head and his eyes get watery.

You fall.

You fell.

You love him.

"Oh, Paul." You grab his face and kiss him. He's taken aback but kisses you back. His hand wraps around your wrist gently.

Later that night, you are at his house. You are sleeping on the couch again. You are staring at the ceiling and can't stop thinking about him. His lips taste so good. His touch is like fire.

You get up and open his door slowly. His room is dark, and you can hear very quiet snoring. You make your way to his bed. You crawl under the blanket next to him. He slightly groans and shifts. He turns around, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling your back into him. Your butt is against him. You lift your head and turn it. You can't see his face, but you feel his lips on yours. The kiss is rough, and his hands slide down to your hip, near your ass. He pulls away and nuzzles his face in your neck. "Not yet."

You wake up, wrapped up in his arms and content. "I love you." You mumble to Paul. "I love you too, my girl." He kisses your cheek.

#twilight #embry call #jacob black #jared cameron #paul lahote #sam uley #seth clearwater #twilight wolfpack #leah clearwater #quil ateara #paul lahote x reader

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zykamiliah · 2 months

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Tell me about Shen Yuan's mental gymnastics

oh boy where do i start

there are various sides to sy's mental gymnastics:

-his sexuality, that directly correlates to his feelings for binghe; we know how he projects his desire for lbh into the Women/Wives characters, he is in complete denial and actively suppressing his own sexuality, for quite a while and even before he transmigrated, since he has some "skeletons in his closet" in regards to past crushes. he frames his feelings for lbh and his responses during sex as submitting to lbh's charm and "technique" as if to imply he doesn't really have a choice or is being convinced into loving and having sex with lbh, which is one of the biggest misunderstandings for readers in the whole novel. for him admitting that he likes gay sex is tremendously embarrassing, and a consequence from being raised in a homophobic/queerphobic culture.

-his self-image, not in the sense that insecure or lacks confidence, but in that he perceives himself as inconsequential-- he doesn't expect much to come from his good actions except maybe that people will spare his life (lbh, lqg) and instead weighs his bad actions as worse than they are. even if he doesn't think about it a lot, he expects lbh to hate him and kill him for pushing him into the endless abyss, yet doesn't take into the equation everything else he did as a shizun for lbh and the other qjp disciples. this probably comes from his fandom-agreed third child syndrome, in that as such he grew up thinking his actions don't have any impact in the people around him (not taking into account the impact of his death in hua yue city, for example, in lbh and his martial siblings and disciples); related to that, is the part where he doesn't ever talk about his own accomplishments because he thinks that's too cringe or something, so he's always downplaying himself and the stuff he does, like being a good damn teacher, and liking it! he describes himself as a lazy guy who just wants to lead a no-effort life but that's what he actually wants or does; he's always doing something post-transmigration and if fact gets antsy and restless when he's forced to stay inside doing nothing

also related to him downplaying his good actions, is that he sketches himself as a selfish person when his actions completely contradict that characterization.

he also downplays or completely hides from the narration how much being cool matters to him lol he wants to distract the reader and himself from the fact that he's not an easygoing person, who will take anything life gives him; no, no, that man taught his disciples about payback; he gets reeaally pissed off when mbj dismisses his cultivation at the immortal alliance conference. i've talked about how he projects on shen jiu here to go around those feelings .

overall he's unreliable when talking about himself and you have to look at everything he says really carefully and contrast it with his actual actions to understand what's real and what's a lie.

and one of my favorites: he tells us he's pretending at being a lofty immortal cultivator, when in truth the transmigration has allowed him to become the best version of himself (ok there's still room for improvement but he's getting there!) the moment the OOC was off, and later when he's in the mushroom body, he thinks of himself as shen qingqiu all the time, going so far as to put finding a folding fan as a top priority, saving people just because he was around, and being unable to let cqm disciples be in danger to the detriment of his own survival. he tries to sell you a picture of himself where he's pragmatic and selfish and self-serving, but in truth, despite having a bad temper and sometimes resorting to anger as a coping mechanism (the tsundere allegations are true), he's a big softie and unconditional when it comes to the people he cares about.

#svsss #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #zykamiliah-svsss #svsss meta #ask zy #hope you like the answer anon!!!#im probably missing a few things anyway lol

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nkogneatho · 4 months

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okay since you said yes.

toji never failed to charm women with the minimum effort. he would always notice signs of flirtatious behavior and tones that women reciprocated back. that was before me.

after he fell in love with me, he had nothing on his mind except the word "pasi". i am convinced. the smart assassin has actually incorporated himself to being stupid at times. he couldn't notice how people ogled at him when he walked looking so fine. but i did. and i hated every second of it.

look. i get it it's one thing to try and flirt with a handsome man you met at a supermarket. i mean shoot your shot girl. but it is another thing to keep on trying even after noticing the wedding ring on the man's finger. it made my blood boil. and you know the worst part? this 6'2 tall dumbfuck that i was in love with did not even dismiss her. because he is so oblivious now. he doesn't pay much attention to women other than me, let alone their playfully sweet tone. and that is what made me more mad. i scooped closer and overheard him giving stew tips to her. he said something witty along the lines that barely made me chuckle but her grazing her hand over his arm as she laughed too loud and long, made me want to kill her. get your dirty hands off my man.

before i could swoop in, toji had finally caught onto what was happening. he moved his arm away from her and looked at her with an ice cold expression laced with a little bit of disgust. i liked it. "excuse me. i gotta go find my wife." unaware i was just a few meters away from him, faced away but still peeking.

"how about we exchange numbers?" is this bitch for real? i thought. god i was already fantasizing about slamming her head into a wall.

"funny how we just met and yet you disgust me. whore yourself out to another man." he walked away as he saw me. i was a little mad earlier (a little? pfft— sure) but his coldness towards others turned me on even more. knowing he just melts for me fills my panties with wetness and short circuits my brain. fuck. i could be a titanic and he could be an iceberg but i had already melted the heck out of that iceberg before it could drown me. but...i wanted him to drown me in him. i wanted to sink deep into him.

#well would you look at that??? you know i will reblog the hell out of this because i love this sm #°🖇᭡ “ tojisi ”#tojisi on top mfs #toji fushiguro #pasi.txt

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emepe · 6 months

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— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: A journal entry. Meanwhile, Armin does what he can to help Eren out.

— Content warnings: mentions of murder and torture of a woman, misogyny.

— Notes: Hello, hello! Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged chapter 1 of this series. I really appreciate it <3 Happy reading, bubs!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

just friends

September 8, 2024

There’s nothing I hate more than arrogant women. That’s why I had to kill her.

All I wanted was for her to smile at me. She wouldn’t. I filled her room with all her favorite things and even loosened her handcuffs. But she was so fucking hard-headed it drove me crazy. The little bitch even dared to spit at me. I had to teach her a lesson. I had to let out my anger somehow.

For a while, it was exciting to watch her writhe in pain. I can’t even begin to describe how thrilling it is to see how much a human can tolerate until they break. I told her it was compensation for the look she gave me the day we met. She kept lying and saying she didn’t even remember having bumped into me on the street.

I really wish she could’ve bounced back this time. I’m so lonely without her now. I miss her.

Humans are social by nature, it's what all the books say. When one is young, we need protection and love from our caregivers. As we grow, our world gradually expands and we bond with other people — friends from school, teachers, neighbors, coworkers. If one must stick to tradition, there's bound to be a romantic relationship to develop at some point. But for some people, that imposed path doesn't come naturally. Or rather, there have been blockages throughout the years that resulted in stunted social growth.

That's where you find yourself. It's not your fault. When one grows up forced to believe she's nothing but a burden, it's only natural to try to take up as little space as possible. But again, it's not your fault. One doesn't acquire those thoughts on their own.

You ruined my life!

As much as wellness and self-help gurus will preach there's a place in the world for everyone, self-awareness keeps you from blinding yourself toward the baggage you carry. It wouldn't be fair to lay that on anyone else.

So you've shrunk yourself. No making yourself seen, no making yourself heard. No talking outside of what is strictly necessary to survive. No inserting yourself into other's lives. For the most part, it's worked. Albeit, you've been deemed unlikable, weird, and rude. It's better this way. There's no use in putting yourself out there if there's so much to feel ashamed of. It's too much to trouble others with your pitiful self.

Who in the world would want to put up with you?

After the usual snarky murmurs and judgmental glances, you're rarely acknowledged save for when someone — usually a man — tries to “take a crack” at you and the whispers float in the air for another while. Other than that, you're at peace with yourself. You're almost convinced you've developed invisibility powers.

That is until Armin came along. At first, you sighed at the prospect of going over your routine yet again. Cementing boundaries and erasing any hope that it just takes the right guy to “loosen you up”. It was disgusting to have your quietness be misinterpreted for arrogance by the men at work. Even if that were the case, who was anybody to assume you needed to be knocked down a peg through sexual advances?

But Armin proved himself to be different. He tore away at your skepticism by simply being kind with no ulterior motives. Men can be so stupid. They'll believe a girl can't pick up when they're being slimy. It must've shocked them when you started having lunch with Armin more frequently.

It was thanks to him that you slowly expanded your world's limits. It was because of him that you began to question the voice that rang in your ears. After receiving the housewarming party invitation, you wondered whether to step forward or back. There was no denying Armin's expansion had awoken something in you. You wanted company — craved it — but you didn't want to risk bringing trouble into the group. What if Armin was an anomaly and the things that echoed in your head were true? Maybe Armin wasn't an anomaly at all, he just didn't know enough about you. You certainly didn't let him in enough.

In the end, your heart overruled your brain. You wanted more. With a hopeful heart, you went to the party.

A heavy sigh slips past your lips as you pick at your dinner on Sunday night. Your hair is still damp from the shower and it rests uncomfortably along your neck. Your phone lies next to your plate, buzzing every few seconds to match the texts that come into the group chat — arrangements are taking place for the next get-together with Armin and his friends.

After your moment of realization on the balcony, you faked a yawn and went back inside to pretend to fall asleep.

This morning, you avoided being alone with Eren. Not out of fear of something happening, but you needed to sort out your feelings on the situation.

There's no denying Eren is an attractive man — but that doesn't faze you.

Catching Eren's eye wasn't something you planned. Your world suddenly expanded outside of your will — out of your control. You're not annoyed, just overwhelmed.

Being the center of someone's attention means more expectations, more to live up to — he has no idea you're not the kind of girl he needs. Nobody needs someone who's a burden. It's not as if you're open to reciprocating any special attention, anyway.

If history has taught you anything, it’s that love isn't in the cards for you. It's best not to entertain any silly ideas.

Friendships are tricky, but no more than romance — or whatever crossed Eren's mind each time he looked at you. Keeping to oneself is easier than either one. But with the latter idea being too late to return to, you'll have to nip this problem in the bud.

The few hours before lunchtime seem to drag slower every Monday. Given that sparing time to eat was nothing but another task to check off your to-do list, you never used to pay much attention to the clock. But since Armin, lunchtime means more than bringing food to your mouth, methodically stretching your pace to fit the length of your lunch break.

Now it means meeting with a friend, having someone fill in the silence with tales from the accounting department, and occasionally going on quick drives to Kuchel.

So when you venture off to his cubicle, only for him to tell you he's swamped with work and won't have lunch until later, you're mildly disappointed. You don't let it show. After all, work trumps your trivial need for company.

So you wish him good luck and return to your desk. Without any conversation to fill in the minutes, you finish your food fairly quickly. When you glance at the time on your phone, barely fifteen minutes have passed. Your fingers tap rhythmically against your desk before you decidedly stand, grab your bag, and head for the elevator.

The coffee shop on the corner of the street has been your go-to spot since you started working here. You've been there alone and with Armin. It's where your feet take you on the rare occasions when Armin is too busy. There's nothing wrong with the in-house coffee kiosk from your office building, but you find more comfort in being surrounded by strangers who keep to themselves than bumping into someone who doesn't like you.

The early September days serve as a transition into cooler temperatures. A light breeze has added to the warmth leftover from summer. The leaves have yet to develop a clear change in color, but some yellow streaks are popping up here and there. The beginning of autumn pushes you toward all things cozy. By the time you reach the shop, you've got your heart set on having a warm cup of cinnamon tea.

You settle at a table, place your order, grab a book from your bag, and wait. Before you can reach the second paragraph of your read, a shadow casts over your left side, forcing you to look up in confusion. It's too soon for your tea to be ready.

You're met with striking green eyes and plump lips that pronounce a bashful hi.

It's a strange coincidence. You wish you could say you've never seen him around here before, but you've never bothered to commit any face to memory if it's not necessary.

“Eren, hi.”

The tint on his cheeks you remember so well from two nights ago resurfaces. A nervous swallow pulls at your throat. You never did map out a plan — then again, you weren't expecting to see him again so soon.

“I wasn't sure if it was you. Are you here with someone?” he asks, taking a second to look around the shop.

You shake your head.

“No. Armin's busy so I came here alone,” you explain.

He nods, rocking his weight on his heels. A question seems to linger on the tip of his tongue as his gaze flits between you and the floor. It takes him a moment for him to find his voice, though. In spite of yourself, you have to admit it's actually a bit endearing. It's different. It's refreshing.

“Is it okay if I sit with you?” His eyes are overflowing with hope.

You nod. He sits. The book in your hands is put away.

For a while last night, you debated the validity of your theory. Maybe Eren wasn't interested in you in the way you thought. After all, it was your first time meeting and he might’ve been nervous. You know enough about the way you present yourself to acknowledge you're not the most approachable person. Maybe all he needs is time to get used to you.

“Do you want to order something?” You ask, prepared to wave over a server. He stops you with a dismissive hand.

“It's okay, I already had some tea.”

Your eyebrows rise in surprise.

“Not a coffee guy?”

He shakes his head, sputtering a nervous chuckle.

“Not really. I don't like bitter things.” His nose scrunches as if he can savor it on his tongue.

A server brings over your tea along with a small tray of additives. You thank them before returning to Eren's statement.

“You can always add sugar,” you point out with a shrug.

He shakes his head again. This time you're relieved to find a playful smile dancing on his lips.

“Nothing can beat tea with honey.”

Your hand pauses mid-air on its way to pick up the wooden wand half lost in a jar of golden syrup.

You hum in thought as you reach for the sugar spoon instead.

“Really?”

“Yeah. That's how my mom made it for me when I was little. I'd get a stomachache or a cold and it was the first thing she'd make for me. I feel like a kid each time I drink it. It makes me think of her.”

The corners of his lips tug into a smile. You find yourself mirroring his expression as you look down at your hand stirring the sugar into your tea.

“Your mom sounds nice,” you murmur.

“Oh, she's the best. I love her.”

Eren's shoulders relax. He feels at ease talking about his mom. He feels even better knowing he's successfully carrying out a casual conversation with you. In the light of day, everything is less scary. There's less to worry about. That carefree feeling blankets over everything. Suddenly, the motive he walked into this coffee shop for seems doable.

Then a sinking feeling comes over his stomach.

“Sorry.” The word bounces off his tongue without thinking.

“What for?”

He doesn't want to say it, but he hopes his apologetic gaze is enough to convey an explanation.

Your eyebrows shoot up in realization at his hesitance. Then they furrow as you press your lips into a fine line and shake your head dismissively.

“Oh, that.”

The recall of Saturday night when you drunkenly talked about your mom causes your cheeks to flare with heat.

Guilt settles in Eren's stomach. He didn't mean to bring up his mom. He also didn't mean to be so quick to apologize. It just made things worse now that you know he's tiptoeing around you. That's probably the last thing you want — to feel purposely pitied.

Flustered, he rummages through his brain for a solution — a way to get back on the track he was on.

You fix your gaze on him. It's obvious he feels troubled. It's a foreign experience having someone worry so much about if they've caused you any harm. You're unsure of what feelings to associate with it other than guilt. He's not at fault for your crappy family life.

“So you and your mom are close?” you ask.

The crease in his forehead smoothes over.

When he shyly reconnects with your gaze, your eyebrows raise ever so slightly in encouragement. The movement is so subtle it's hard not to miss — but not for Eren, who takes in every detail of your face with so much care. For Eren, the small shifts in your features are so interesting to look at. You express so much with so little. And yet there were times when you would accentuate your expressions as much as you could. What you held back vocally was compensated tenfold through your face. It's fascinating to him.

“Yeah.”

His voice is soft — a trace of his withering embarrassment.

“She's my best friend,” he adds with a little more confidence.

You take a sip of tea. The drink warms your stomach, mirroring that of your chest elicited by Eren's words. The fondness in his voice taints him with a childlike innocence.

Eren Jaeger isn't worried about looking cool. He's honest and clumsy. It's charming.

A light shake of your head keeps your thoughts from drifting further.

“So not a coffee guy but a mama's boy, for sure. Got it.” You nod along with an overly serious expression painted on your face.

He laughs, the sinking feeling in his stomach now dissolving into nothing. Had he not been on the receiving end of your bluntly spoken teasing the other night, he might not have laughed so easily.

A blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Come on, don't tease me,” he mumbles.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Eren falls back into his previously relaxed state.

The conversation continues to flow in between every sip of your tea.

“Do you come here often?” you ask as you prepare to take another sip.

Your eyes are locked on his. He struggles with the intense eye contact. At least, it's intense on his end.

“Not really. Armin mentioned it to me so I thought I'd try it out.”

The pads of his fingers drum a nervous beat on the table.

You nod, relieved. You'd feel silly if it had turned out he was a frequent customer and your disregard of the people surrounding you kept you from noticing him. It would've piled onto your embarrassment from the Kuchel incident.

“Ah, so are you on your lunch break, too? Do you work around here?”

“Um, kind of. I do media production and marketing for a museum, but I do a lot of hours at home. My place is just a few minutes by car.”

“That's so cool.”

The amazement in your voice in addition to its sudden turn up in volume is enough to make him blush.

“It's nothing special. I'm definitely not raking in the big bucks like Jean.”

“Still, it's cool. It's a lot more interesting than being an office manager.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together with newborn disdain for your job before you finish the remainder of your tea.

“Well, I can't argue there,” he says, imitating the sliver of bitterness in your voice.

You gasp in mock hurt.

“Hey, only I can say it.” Your tone is serious, but he knows you're joking. He can tell by the twinkle of amusement in your eyes.

He laughs.

“How long until you have to get back to work?”

You peek at the clock on the wall across the room.

“I still have some time. It's a short walk back, anyway.”

Despite your wording, your answer triggers his nervous antics. You're bound to part ways eventually and he swore to himself he would get the words out. He runs a hand through his hair to distract himself from the anxious flutter in his stomach.

It's no big deal, he thinks. She's just a girl.

He regrets not ordering something else when you asked him. It would give his hands something to do. Then again, he can't keep them from shaking as he gathers the courage to pronounce his next thought. So it's better he doesn't have any breakables in his hold.

He pronounces your name carefully. His heart skips a beat when your eyes meet his. It's strange to think that you hold so much power over him within just a couple of days since meeting. He wants to get closer — he needs to. Again, that feeling of wanting this moment with you to stretch farther squeezes at his chest.

“Do you want to hang out sometime? Just the two of us?”

He can feel himself growing numb to his surroundings as he awaits your response. It's similar to the feeling he gets after stepping foot off a rollercoaster. The adrenaline is pumping furiously through his veins while his mind goes blank. It's a weird moment of chaos and bliss all at once.

You clear your throat.

“So… a date?”

He swallows thickly and nods.

He watches you contemplate his proposal. Your lips are pressed in a fine line, your gaze low and brow furrowed.

It's too much to hope you're equally attracted to him — he's aware. But he hopes you like his company just enough to say yes. Or at the very least, you're curious to know more.

Your mind is in conflict. This is more than you've bargained for. All you wanted was to get along with Armin's friends.

“I'm sorry, Eren. No.”

He instantly deflates to your firm tone.

“It's nothing personal,” you explain. “You're a really nice guy. Really. But I'm not interested in dating… at all.” You sigh, dreading the pending words on your tongue. “And I don't really see you that way. I just want to be friends.”

He remains quiet, chewing on the inside of his cheeks as he processes your words.

The situation is uncomfortable for you, but his defeated form weighs heavier on your heart. He looks so small. It's definitely worse for him.

“Eren?”

Your voice grounds him.

“Sorry, I really spaced out there,” he nervously laughs. “Friends, though. Yeah, friends is good. Friends is perfect, actually.”

The word leaves a bitter taste on his tongue each time. He can pat himself on the back for shooting his shot later but, for now, his senses have been blurred by the disappointment of being turned down.

“I really like talking to you, Eren. Really.”

Your attempt to lighten the defeat on his shoulders works — a little. It's a relief you're not entirely opposed to having him around, at least. Eren finds comfort in that. Maybe it'll suffice while he fights away at his attraction.

“I like talking to you, too.” His voice carries a tint of helplessness.

Your eyes soften.

“I should get going.”

You pull out a fresh bill from your purse and place it under the empty teacup before standing.

He stands with you and holds the door open. It's not until you're both out on the sidewalk, bidding each other goodbye, that he forces a smile.

“I'll see you around.”

“Bye, Eren.”

“Sorry I couldn't make it to lunch,” Armin says. He leans against the edge of your desk with his hands in his pockets.

It's been an hour since you got back, and you've been typing away, replying to emails.

You shrug, tossing a small reassuring smile his way before focusing back on your computer screen.

“It's fine. I wasn't alone this time.”

He perks up.

“Really?”

You hum in affirmation.

“I went out for tea and bumped into your friend Eren.”

Armin's jaw falls open.

“Huh. Well, what do you know? That's a crazy coincidence.”

There's something suspicious about Armin's theatrical tone, but you're too engrossed in going over your email for typos to notice. You only manage to murmur a simple uh-huh.

“What'd you talk about?”

You send off your email with a satisfied click and look up at Armin as you lean back in your chair.

“Just this and that,” you reply nonchalantly.

His lips press into a dissatisfied line.

“Well, what do you think of him?” His eyes light up expectantly.

“He's…” You lose yourself in thought for a moment. Images of blushing cheeks, boyish smiles, and shimmering green eyes flash through your memory. You remember the honey and his simple confessions. “... like a little kid.”

Armin's face bears a mix of confusion and amusement.

“What do you mean by that?”

A soft pensive hum vibrates through your throat.

“Dorky,” you reply firmly.

Armin snorts, readying himself to come to Eren's defense, but you continue.

“He's… honest, like a little kid would be. And he's a little clumsy with his words but it's… Kind of endearing. He's a sweet guy.”

Armin nods along, his face serious. Finally, he smiles.

“Sounds like you had a nice talk, then.”

Date proposal aside, your moment with Eren was enjoyable. Even taking your rejection into account, you didn't sense any resentment directed at you and that just further proved your pure perception of him.

It's not the first time you've been asked out. It's certainly not the first time you've said no — that's always been your response, albeit for different reasons. A few guys in the office have tried getting closer to you but, even if you were open to dating, you can always tell it's nothing genuine from their approach. Their overly kind performance just makes it easier for you to decline. Once that's been done, their creepy narcissistic truths come to light — you're stoned with sexist slurs and disgusted looks. It'd hurt more if you were still the kind of person who craves approval from the wrong people.

There's a clear difference between them and Eren. So even though you rejected him, you still wish to be close as friends. He's a nice person to know.

“I did,” you tell Armin.

There's a shimmer in your eyes he manages to catch. Your features are soft and serene as you prop your chin on one hand while you mindlessly scroll through your emails with the other. Your lips are shaped into a discreet smile. Like a kid.

On his way back to his cubicle on the opposite end of the floor, Armin hums a cheerful tune to himself. There's a proud bounce in every step he takes.

“Armin, check your phone. It was buzzing like crazy a few minutes ago,” a female coworker says in passing before grabbing a manila folder from her desk and rushing off to a meeting room across the hall.

“Thanks, Mina!” he calls after her.

Armin taps the missed call notification on his screen and brings the phone to his ear, grinning expectantly.

“You suck,” Eren's voice comes through the speaker after the first ring.

“Woah, woah, woah. What did I do?” Armin laughs as he steps out onto the empty smoker's balcony.

There’s a groan on the other end.

“What do you think? I crashed and burned.”

Armin’s face contorts in confusion. From what he could gather on your end, the coffee shop incident went well. You were smiling, and although the things you said about Eren didn’t seem like it, you meant them fondly — Armin knew you well enough to confidently confirm that. At the very least, it meant you weren’t completely repulsed by his company. Even if there are different sides to every story, the discrepancies shouldn’t be anything major.

“What are you talking about?” Armin sighs.

Another groan on Eren’s end. If Armin wasn’t so patient, he would’ve hung up.

He really is like a little kid, he thinks.

“I asked her out and she said no.”

Armin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. How could you keep that part out of the conversation you had earlier?

His shock doesn’t stem from your rejection, but rather because of Eren’s unexpected bravery. Although Eren was tough on the playground when they were kids, he grew up to be a fairly meek guy. When it comes to a girl he likes, he’s never been the bold type. Armin found it a bit strange at times. Eren’s had a track record of being popular among women, so his confidence should be over the roof and his personality, unbearable. But if he’s honest, it’s a good thing he doesn’t pay much attention to those things. It’s easier to root for a friend who only acts on more honest feelings. Even if that confidence didn’t stick with him.

“This is all your fault, Armin. So much for having my back.”

Even through the phone, Armin can tell his best friend is pouting. He has to hold back from rolling his eyes — it feels deceitful to do it behind his back when he has to play the role of a sympathetic friend right now.

He rubs at his nape, unsure of whether he should feel proud of Eren for making a move or apologetic for not contemplating what seemed like a far-fetched risk.

“To be fair, buddy, I didn’t send you over there to ask her out. I just thought you would like the chance to talk to her and get to know her a little better.”

“You couldn’t tell me that before? I don’t think I can ever face her again!” Eren half-yells.

Of course, Eren chooses to focus on the negatives. Armin cherry-picks the situations he meddles in. Even if it’ll serve as a confident boost to reveal to Eren what you said about him and how you said it, it could do him some good to bounce back on his own — and learn to pace himself.

“First off, you have to relax an—”

“I can’t.” Eren’s voice is reduced to an embarrassed murmur. “She makes me nervous. I can’t help myself.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

It’s been obvious from the start that Eren is attracted to you, but the near confession pulls at Armin’s heartstrings. It’s times like this when he’s reminded how cute Eren can be.

“That bad, huh?” Armin smiles down at the people walking on the street.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in love with her or anything but…”

There's a long pause on Eren's side, only disturbed by some light rustling as he moves his phone around.

“... I like looking at her… and I like hearing her talk. Do you ever notice how soft her voice is? There’s just something about it… There’s this thing with her eyes, too, it’s crazy.”

“Well, as long as you’re not falling in love with her.”

Eren releases a third groan.

“Armin, please. I just want to get closer to her. And I don’t want to make myself look like an idiot each time we’re alone. I wish there was something I could do to make her like me.”

“I don’t think she dislikes you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“She said she doesn’t see me that way. She just wants to be friends.”

Eren’s desolation is seeping through the phone now.

“Maybe I jumped the gun by asking her out so quickly.”

When Armin suggested Eren find you at the coffee shop during your lunch break, he figured it would help him get used to you. So that when the time came, he could ask you out without being more anxious than he needed to be. Had everything gone accordingly, Eren wouldn’t be moping now and wondering what would have happened — if anything was meant to happen — if he had just given you a little more time.

“Maybe,” Armin echoes.

“Do you think I blew it?”

Armin shakes his head even though there’s no way for Eren to tell.

“I think you just got a little excited. You never know how she might feel later on.”

“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I hardly think she’ll like me any better if I act like those guys who can’t take no for an answer. I should just try being her friend.”

Armin wants to beg him not to feel discouraged — that there’s a reason why he was so excited to introduce you to each other, and why he teased him at the housewarming party after he caught him blushing while doing the dishes with you.

It didn’t start that way but, the more he got to know you, the more he thought you and Eren would be good together.

Soft-spoken girl who keeps to herself meets the most dependable and kind-hearted boy.

Armin would be lying if he said he wasn’t swayed by the promised satisfaction of playing matchmaker in the fantasy playing out in his head. Not that he felt you absolutely needed to get together. But he could feel it in his gut. You and Eren could do each other a lot of good. He already knew Eren would feel a pull upon meeting you and, if there’s anything he gathered from both sides of the coffee shop incident, it’s that you like Eren enough to let him stick around. It was a good call on your end, though he may be biased.

If you happen to fall in love along the way, then so be it.

“You’re a good guy, Eren. Everything will turn out fine.”

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cheynovak · 3 months

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Echoes and Shadows - Part 9

Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N

Warnings: Throwback memories, hurt, angst, jealousy, sexual tension,

Words: 3400

*Does not follow the boys storyline *

In the 1950, Soldier Boy had to train a train a young girl supe named Y/N, she had a "nice girl next door" persona. Soldier Boy hated it at first, until they started to work together, he seemed to start to like this kid.

But will they overcome all the secrets and pain they had collected over the years?

Y/N sat on a bench in the park, it was almost night fall, she couldn’t believe him. No, she couldn’t believe herself, why, why did she believe him, all he ever did was pushing her buttons or hurting her.

His sweet words lingered in her head: "I never hated you, on the contrary some nights I wanted you so much it was hard not to break down your door. But I knew that good catholic school girl in you wasn't ready for me yet."

“Well fuck you, asshole, all you did was holding me back!” Y/N looked around realising she said that out loud. Luckly the park was almost empty. When she looked up to the moon, she felt nostalgic, thinking back to the first time Ben showed how possessive he was and she still stayed.

Y/N's mind drifted back to a fight she had with her ex-boyfriend, the date was November 1952 and she had just turned 20. They had been dating since she was 17, and for a while, everything had been perfect.

But when she was forced to live with Ben, trouble started brewing. Her ex-boyfriend had never liked the fact that she lived with another man, no matter how much she tried to convince him it was just a job.

She remembered the night everything fell apart. They had been arguing in her room, her boyfriend’s jealousy flaring once again. "I don’t like you living with him, Y/N, there has to be another way." he had said, pacing back and forth. "It's not right."

She had sighed, trying to stay calm. No matter how often she asked her boyfriend over or said they stayed in the separate rooms. This is my job, you knew I had to work with him. Ben and I are just partners, nothing more. I asked to live in another apartment but Vought made it clear, it was either living with him or they replace me."

Her boyfriend had scoffed, shaking his head. "You expect me to believe that? Besides, I know what men are like. He's probably trying to get into your pants every chance he gets."

Y/N had felt her frustration boiling over. "You're being ridiculous. Ben made it very clear in the past he likes older women. And he calls me kid, he doesn't see me like that!" But then Ben had walked in, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Trouble in paradise kids?" he had asked, his tone mocking. Y/N's boyfriend had glared at him. "Stay out of her room, asshole." Ben had shrugged, but his eyes had gleamed with mischief. "Just trying to... lend a hand.” he looked her up and down his eyes staying a little to long on her bare legs.

“Besides, Y/N doesn’t need a man, she makes way more happy noises when she's alone playing with herself, than when you're with her." Her boyfriend’s face had turned beet red, and Y/N had felt a rush of humiliation and anger.

The argument had escalated after Ben left, and by the end of the night, her boyfriend had stormed out, leaving her relationship in ruins.

She had been angry at Ben for his comment, but deep down, she knew he had only spoken the truth. Her ex-boyfriend's insecurities and jealousy had been a ticking time bomb. Which only translated to arguments and him giving her comments on how she should cover up nobody wanted to see her fat ass.

After their breakup she decided it was time for some ‘healing’, needing to settle for a real man instead of a boy. The air outside was cold and the city lights shimmered against the darkened sky as if trying to outshine the stars themselves.

The city was alive, and for once, Y/N wanted to be a part of it without the weight of her superhero persona, break up or the bad tension with Ben hanging over her head. The last years of her partnership with Soldier Boy made her realise what kind of manchild the great hero was.

A void that could never have enough booze, drugs and sex. She lost count on the times she walked in on him with one, two or multiple women, she had begged him to at least stay in his room, but he liked to shock her.

"Kid, are you sure you can handle this superhero life?" Ben would often say, his tone dripping with condescension. He rarely called her by her name, opting instead for 'kid' as if she were a child tagging along on his grand adventures.

Y/N hated it, but she bit her tongue. Tonight, though, was different. She had slipped out of her usual superhero outfit, trading it for a tight-fitting dress that hugged her curves and accentuated her figure.

Her hair was done up in soft curls, and her lips painted a bold, defiant red. She admired herself in the mirror, feeling a surge of confidence. As she stepped into the living room, Ben looked up from his mirror filled with coke, his eyes widening slightly before he masked his surprise with a smirk.

"Aren't you a bit too young for that kind of makeup, kid?" Y/N rolled her eyes, refusing to let him dampen her spirits. "I'm going out for a bit." was all she said. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing her critically. "You trying to catch some dick tonight? Men won’t be able to keep their hands to themself.”

Y/N was glad her back faced him, those semi-concerned/ complimenting words made her fluster. "Pretty sure I can handle a night out, thanks." She shot back, her voice laced with irritation. “Besides you bring back a girl ever night, what’s wrong with me bringing a man home?” she turned to face him now.

Ben's eyes darkened for a moment, a flicker of something she couldn't quite place crossing his features. But he said nothing more, just watched as she walked out the door, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoing behind her.

The night was young, and Y/N was determined to savour every moment of it. She found herself drawn to a bar with live music, a place she had heard about from some of the other younger employees at Vought.

The atmosphere was electric, the energy palpable as the band on stage belted out tunes that made the crowd go wild. She slipped into the bar, her tight-fitting dress turning heads as she made her way to a small table near the stage.

The music was loud, the bass thumping in her chest, and for the first time in a long while, she felt free. The usual pressures of being a superhero, of living up to the expectations set by Vought and by Ben, melted away with each beat.

As she ordered a drink, she couldn’t help but let a smile creep onto her lips. The lead singer’s voice was raw and powerful, and the guitarist’s riffs sent shivers down her spine. She tapped her foot to the rhythm, immersing herself in the music and the vibrant crowd around her.

Meanwhile, back at the Vought building, Ben was restless. He had tried to focus on the tv, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N. The image of her in that dress, the confident way she had walked out the door, lingered in his mind.

Finally, he gave in and went to searching for her. It didn’t take him long to find her. The bar was buzzing, and through the crowd, he spotted her instantly. She was a vision, completely in her element, and for a moment, he hesitated.

He had always seen her as the kid, his sidekick, some pain in his ass, someone he didn’t need but had to tag along because of Vought, but she grew on him, and so he demanded to Vought she stayed with him.

He grew to love her girl next door persona. And even though he wouldn't admit it, she did calmed him down in a way, made him feel less alone. He never thought he would be sexually attracted to her. But when he heard her sweet moans on the other side of the wall... it took everything not to break down her door and show her how it's done.

But tonight, she was different. Confident, vibrant, and utterly captivating. She was sitting with a couple of soldiers in uniform, their presence commanding her attention. One of them poured champagne into her glass, the bubbles catching the dim light and adding to the sparkle in her eyes.

The other soldier leaned in, whispering something into her ear that made her laugh, a genuine, carefree laugh that Ben hadn’t heard in a long time. A surge of fury coursed through him, catching him off guard.

He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he watched the scene unfold. The sight of those soldiers trying to charm her, making her laugh, ignited a possessive anger within him that he didn’t fully understand. Pushing through the crowd, he made his way to her table.

Y/N looked up, her laughter fading as she saw the storm brewing in Ben’s eyes. The soldiers turned to him, their expressions shifting from surprise to mild irritation. “Y/N,” Ben said, his voice a strained attempt at calm. "A word" he demanded. She raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension in him. “Ben, I’m in the middle of something.”

The soldier who had poured the champagne leaned back in his chair, eyeing Ben with a smirk. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you relax? We’re just having a good time.” Ben ignored him, his gaze locked on Y/N.

Y/N sighed, setting her glass down. One of the soldiers, the one who had been whispering to her, asked, "Who’s this guy?" She stood up, giving the soldiers an apologetic smile. “Excuse me, gentlemen, seems like my boss is being unreasonable.”

The soldiers exchanged glances, amusement flickering in their eyes. The one who had poured the champagne leaned back in his chair, giving Ben a once-over. “Boss, huh, looks more like your dad.” Ben ignored the jab, his eyes fixed on Y/N. “We need to talk. Now.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but obliged, leading him away from the table. “What the hell, Ben?” she hissed, crossing her arms. “I was having a good time. You think just because you’re Soldier Boy, you have the right to control my life?”

He took a deep breath, his anger giving way to a different, more vulnerable emotion. I don’t want to see you get hurt... ever since that shitty boyfriend broke up you’re not yourself.” Y/N’s expression hardened slightly. “ First off, he broke with me because of your fucking comment. And second, I can take care of myself, Ben. I’m not some helpless kid. Do me a favour and find yourself some who can suck your dick tonight and leave me alone."

Y/N returned to the table with the soldiers, a forced smile on her face as she tried to shake off the confrontation with Ben. She wasn’t about to let him ruin her night, and if he wanted to play the overprotective boss, she’d show him she wasn’t just some kid to be controlled.

Ben, on the other hand, didn’t leave. He stayed at the bar, his presence a constant shadow in the corner of her eye. He ordered a drink and started flirting with every other woman around, his charm on full display.

But his green eyes kept drifting back to Y/N, watching her every move with a mix of irritation and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite admit to himself. Y/N noticed him, of course. The more she drank, the more the situation started to feel like a twisted game.

She chatted, flirted and laughed with the soldiers, but her gaze frequently met Ben’s across the room, a silent challenge passing between them. She leaned closer to one of the soldiers, letting him pour her another glass of champagne, her finger moving over the spilled drop on the side or the glass, lifting her finger towards her perfect painted lips, licking it.

The music grew louder, the bar more crowded, but the tension between her and Ben was almost palpable. She could feel his eyes on her, dark and intense, and it sent a thrill through her. Deciding to push his limits, she leaned in and kissed the soldier next to her.

The kiss was brief but deliberate, and she kept her eyes open, locking onto Ben’s as she did it. The soldier, surprised but pleased, deepened the kiss, oblivious to the undercurrent of the moment.

Ben’s reaction was immediate. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing with fury. He fought to control himself, trying not to react impulsively. But his ease was interrupted by the sight of the other soldier looking at her hungrily.

Y/N’s hand grabbed the back of the soldier’s head, pulling him closer kissing him as well. Both men moved over to her neck and shoulders, making her bit her lip. Ben felt his anger rising. He couldn’t stand seeing her like this, used as a plaything by these men.

One of the soldiers moved his hand under the table, and Y/N moaned softly, a sound so quiet that no one in the bar noticed. But Ben did. He knew exactly where the soldier’s hand was, and the knowledge ignited a fury inside him that he could no longer contain.

His vision narrowed as he marched across the bar, his anger radiating off him in waves. He reached the table, and without a word, he grabbed the soldier’s wrist, yanking it away from Y/N with a force that made the man wince.

“Hey!” the soldier protested, but Ben’s glare silenced him. “What’s your problem?” he asked standing toe to toe with him. “My problem,” Ben growled, his voice low and dangerous, “is that you’re crossing a line.”

Y/N looked up, startled by the sudden confrontation. “Ben, what are you doing?” He didn’t answer, his eyes never leaving the soldier’s. “Get up. We’re leaving.” The other soldier tried to stand, but Ben’s presence was too intimidating.

“Come on, man, we were just having fun.” Ben's voice was a menacing rumble. “It’s over. Get up, Y/N.” His hand gripped the soldier's neck, pinching the last breath out of his lungs. The soldier's eyes bulged in fear and pain, his hands clawing at Ben's iron grip.

Y/N hesitated, torn between defying Ben and the growing realization that he might just kill this man on the spot. She could see the fury in Ben’s eyes, the unrestrained rage that made her shiver. She stood up slowly, her eyes flicking between Ben and the soldiers.

“I’m sorry, guys.” The other soldier raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Hey, man, let him go. We don’t want any trouble.” Ben’s eyes flickered towards the soldier who spoke, his grip tightening momentarily before he finally released the man.

The soldier gasped for air, collapsing onto the table, his face pale with fear. “Out,” Ben commanded, his voice cold. “Now.” He said while pushing he out the door. “What the hell, Ben?” she demanded. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” he replied, his voice still tight with anger. “You were letting them use you, Y/N.” - “You don’t get to decide what I do,” she shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’m not your possession.”

Ben's anger flared, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "If you make a man so fucking horny, you better be prepared to fuck him too!" he shouted, his face flushed with a mix of rage and something more primal.

Y/N laughed, a bold, defiant sound that echoed in the night. "Who said I wasn't? You pulled me out of there you ass!" For a moment, they stood there, the air between them charged with tension. Ben’s breathing was heavy, his fists clenched at his sides. Y/N’s eyes were bright, challenging him, daring him to close the distance between them.

Without another word, Ben grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. Their bodies collided, the intensity of the moment crackling like electricity. Y/N’s breath hitched as Ben’s mouth found hers in a fierce kiss.

Ben pushed her in the alley behind the club, her body pushed against the brick wall. The hit making her let go of a small breathy moan from her lips. Only then fully realising what they were doing.

She was still angry, the suddenness of his actions only fuelling her frustration. She shoved him away with all her strength and slapped his face. Ben’s head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, but when he turned back to her, he was smiling, a dark, knowing smile.

“See? You’re not fucking ready for a man.” Her chest heaved with emotion, her hand still stinging from the slap. "Is it so hard to believe not every woman wants you between her legs? You're disgusting." She said whipping her lips.

Ben's smile faltered at her words, his expression flickering with hurt. He opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N walked away from him and left towards their home in the Vought building.

Y/N stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her reflection softened by the steam from the hot shower she just took. Her mind raced with thoughts of the argument with Ben earlier, the sting of her own words still lingering.

She hadn't meant to lash out like that, but his actions had crossed a line, and she had reacted out of frustration and anger. As she stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her, she hesitated before opening the bathroom door.

The apartment was quiet, but she knew Ben was still awake. She had heard him in the living room earlier, he refused to look at her still angry with her. But she needed some form of reassurance, some sign that she wasn't just too ugly, too fat, probably going to regret her next move.

"Why would those men be interested in me?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. Ben scoffed, his frustration evident. "Because you were being easy. Any pussy would be good for them." She took a step closer, her eyes searching his face.

"So that means he was right. I'm too fat, no man will ever think I'm beautiful." She referred to her ex. "No one wants me long term." Ben's expression shifted from anger to confusion. "Where is this coming from?" he asked, his eyes flickering down to her towel-clad body that barely covered her up.

Before he could say anything else, Y/N let the towel drop to the floor, standing before him completely bare. "Do you... think I'm too fat?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Ben swallowed hard, his eyes moving over her body unable to look away, taking in every inch.

After a few minutes he walked closer, his gaze intense, before kneeling down and picking up the towel. "You're beautiful, Y/N," he said softly. "

But you're also drunk, and you need to go to bed." Her fingers moved through his hair, pulling him closer, his head against her thigh, making it hard for him to concentrate. He turned slightly so that his cheek was touching her flesh.

He pulled himself away from her and stood up, draping the towel gently around her. But she didn't take it, so that he had to hold her close. The moment was charged with a mix of emotions: desire, concern, and a deep, unspoken connection.

"Y/N," Ben said softly, his voice filled with both tenderness and frustration, "You don't want this." Y/N looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You really think I'm beautiful?" Ben cupped her face in one hand, his touch gentle.

"I do. And you deserve more than to be treated like some easy target." She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Thank you, Ben." He pulled her into his arms, his touch strong and reassuring.

"Let's get you to bed," he murmured, guiding her towards her room. As they walked, Y/N felt a sense of shame wash over her. She turned to Ben, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"I really just flashed you, didn't I?" Ben's lips twitched, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, you did." Seeing her shame, he added quickly, "But it was the finest body I've seen in years."

He winked at her, trying to lighten the mood. She giggled and swatted his chest playfully, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. He chuckled, the tension between them easing slightly. "Get some sleep, kid." He said kissing her head.

By the time Y/N got out of the memory she realised it was already pitch black at the park. “He had aways done that.” she talked to herself. Complimented her when she needed it, but then again, it felt more like saying what she needed to hear so he could work her over.

He probably wanted her to invite him in to her bed that night, yes, that could be the only reason he did that. He was as jealous of the soldiers like had been with Noir. “I’ve only been seen like his possession.” she whispered while she got up and walked back home.

------

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#jensen ackles #fanfic #x reader #soldier boy #the boys #the boys fanfic #the boys fanart #they boys series #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #jensen fucking ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys soldier boy #the boys jensen #fight scene #flashback #Shadows and Echoes fanfic

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alice-after-dark · 6 months

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StaticMoth Thoughts

So disclaimer that I am a "ship what you want to ship as long as you don't force it on others" kind of person. If you really like StaticMoth and think they are genuinely in love, you do you boo. You'll get no hate from me. However this is not that kind of post, so if that's not your cup of tea, I do suggest skipping. You have been warned.

TW for abusive relationships, sexual abuse, and other canon-typical triggers. Discussion of homophobia (Vox is from the 1950s after all)

So I'm going to get right to the point. I see a lot of people pointing to that one split second clip of them making out and saying they're in love...and I wholly disagree. I see their relationship as a purely sexual one, with some potential romantic manipulation from Valentino's side of things (because we all know Vox is insecure as fuck).

Vox grew up during a time period where liking both women and men and being openly sexual was not accepted and his demon life is his first real chance at exploring that side of himself. So he is very vulnerable to someone like Valentino who is the complete opposite and solidly comfortable with his sexuality and desires. Valentino is everything that Vox couldn't even fathom being. Fuck, even in Hell, Vox still strives to maintain a spotless image. The idea of not only being in a relationship with a man, but being able to actively pursue his desires is absolutely foreign to him and Valentino knows this. Which is exactly why he loves playing with Vox.

I do also want to make it clear that I think they are mutually abusive to each other. Vox is a control freak and tries to force Valentino into the box he needs him to fit in for the V's image. He refuses to engage in PDA and frankly doesn't even like to touch Valentino in public view if he doesn't have to. However, we also see that Vox can't just tell Valentino "no" and expect him to listen. He needs to placate him, satisfy him in some capacity, or Valentino will go off and do something stupid that will wreck their image. He is always placating the other demon. Valentino needs to be kept happy and sated, in whatever way necessary. And sometimes that means Vox getting...personally involved when he may not want to.

Now, telling Valentino "no" for most things can be pretty easily placated, but telling Valentino "no" when sex is involved? That can get downright dangerous. A horny Valentino is not so easily swayed in another direction. One thing about Valentino is that he's picky. Once he has his dirty mind set on someone, convincing him to redirect to someone else is nigh impossible. The who matters just as much as the what to him. So if Valentino comes to Vox with sex on the brain, "no" isn't really an option. Vox might be able to swing a "later," but even that is tricky and delicate and usually requires some kind of...compensation for the wait. And for Vox, who is used to the scummy darker side of the TV industry, well, this is just what you do to get ahead in the world.

(This is not to say that they don't ever have consensual sex, they absolutely do...that's just not always the case)

Do I think Valentino is the worst offender out of the two? Yes. Do I think Vox is a completely innocent victim who did nothing wrong? No. I think they are in a mutually toxic, abusive, and fascinating relationship.

#staticmoth #hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #voxval #vox x valentino

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jewishvitya · 1 year

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I was having a conversation about "narcissistic abuse" with a person with NPD. We were talking about the need to call out toxic behaviors that might come with unmanaged NPD, and how it's nothing like what we see now online. We talked about how people like them, who want to treat others well and manage their disorder, deserve to have resources that help them have healthy relationships. And they thanked me for not immediately assuming the worst of them. Which. Just shows you how they're used to being treated.

They got suicide baiting from random strangers just for the fact that they have NPD.

I've seen people getting told "this is doing nothing but making me feel awful about myself" and responding with "you should feel awful about yourself, you're a narcissist!"

It's dangerous to equate abuse with narcissism. It's dangerous to see people with NPD as deserving of harm. Most people with NPD will already be victims of abuse - that's how the disorder is usually developed. If you buy into the idea that they're abusive by nature, you're harming survivors.

There's no harmless way to dehumanize an entire group of people. Especially not over a trait they can't help.

Victims and survivors of abuse should get to talk about their experiences. This doesn't require diagnosing anyone and it doesn't require using a term that's associated with a disorder that's already seen as an inherent evil. There's no kind of abuse that's inherent or exclusive to a specific disorder. I hear the term "coercive control" which sounds really good for the kind of emotional and psychological abuse that gets discussed in those conversations, without adding ableist stigma.

If your opposition to ableism doesn't include people with the most stigmatized disorders, how deeply are you truly thinking about things.

The harm caused to people with NPD through stigma is enough for this to matter. But in addition to that, it's harmful to other people too.

First of all, because you buy into having a group of people who become acceptable targets over a condition they can't help.

Second, because you teach yourself to armchair diagnose people. Which means that you get to put whoever you want into the "acceptable target" group.

When you have a group of people that you think don't deserve to be treated as people, it's easier to persuade you to put unrelated people in that category. Think of the way accusations of "child predator!" are wielded against queer people too. This is not an uncommon tactic.

And it's already a thing here. Sam Vaknin was the one who coined the term narcissistic abuse. That's a man with no credentials to talk about mental health or about abuse. He's a hateful bigoted person. The things that he considers narcissistic include homosexuality, transgender identities, and women who sleep with multiple men instead of settling down with one.

If you buy into the idea that having NPD essentially means being abusive, and then all these things are all narcissistic things. At that point we have a line drawn between queerness and abuse, using the line that was drawn between NPD and abuse.

And another point, about the harassment people with NPD get, is - we shouldn't be punishing people. Just, in general. Punishment isn't justice and it isn't accountability. Withstanding whatever harm people see fit to inflict on you because they were convinced to hate you, rightfully or not, isn't justice or accountability. Even if you convinced yourself that the harm isn't real because… it happens in the virtual space? And that makes it fake somehow?

Think of the way people online talk about narcissists. Think of how easily they armchair diagnose NPD, calling any abuser a narc, and sometimes from one sided stories. And the way people hurry to cyberbully and dogpile.

Abusers will often paint their victims as the abusive ones as a way to escape being known as abusive. And if you take the job of punishing people that you decided deserve it, you will at some point become a tool of an abuser trying to further harm their victim.

Even if you see evidence, it's easy to fake and manufacture. And it'll only become easier with voice and video AI tools. And even if it's all true, punishing people does nothing good.

Convincing you that a group of people is inherently dangerous is a way to make you willing to harm them, or stand by as harm is being done to them. People with NPD don't deserve that.

Stop looking for people that it's acceptable to harass and punish and ostracize. Most of us are susceptible to mob mentality, and having acceptable targets makes you dangerous.

#npd #riki babbles #ableism #npd stigma

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slayerkid · 3 months

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Kunikidazai headcannon ramble

(Mostly written back in January of this year)

My ramblings will be based off what I've seen from the anime. But from season 1-3. So my bad if I miss anything to factor in. And mostly just for now me rambling about how they got together.

CW: Very minor mention of suicide

I think the idea of a punctual guy who is just normal getting paired up romantically with a playful yet chaotic and tactical character is funny to me and I'm all for it to be honest.

I like to think starting out Kunikida didn't really see Dazai more than just a coworker. And then kinda didn't like him once Dazai started messing with him. So he started kinda hating his guts sometimes because when it comes to just doing the work, Kunikida respects Dazai because he knows Dazai will actually do his job.

Dazai meanwhile had some interest in Kunikida, but more so with teasing him a lot once he noticed that Kunikida was the partially gullible type. And he enjoys Kunikida's reactions whenever Kunikida realizes that Dazai gave him misinformation or tries to mess with his schedule.

Dazai did at some point date Chuuya when he used to be in the Port Mafia. But he obviously broke up with him around the time he left Port Mafia.

So when Dazai first met Kunikida, he felt a similar energy that Kunikida shares with Chuuya. Dazai definitely has a type, and it's people he can get away teasing and still be yelled at.

Kunikida is more of a bi icon and he does have 58 criterias for a spouse. But he says woman because he doesn't wanna out himself just yet. And even though he says they're criterias, he doesn't actually want all those criterias met. Because he's still unsure of if he should have a partner who he'd risk having them worry a lot for him since being in the Armed Detective Agency is a dangerous job. So he uses the 58 criterias as an excuse to reject people who either make the attempt to ask him, or to stop himself from pursuing someone.

Dazai once took a peek at Kunikida's notebook and flipped through the 58 criterias page on Kunikida's "ideal woman" and noticed that it wasn't titled 'Ideal Woman', it was titled 'Ideal Partner'. Which Dazai found interesting on a more gender neutral use to refer to someone instead of a gendered one like he kept verbally saying. And the more he looked at the criterias, the more he noticed that a good amount of the stuff listed, were not at all linked to a specific gender or anything that he'd expect a man like Kunikida would say he'd want in a woman.

It wouldn't take long for Dazai to deduce that Kunikida may also be interested in other genders besides women. He also took into account that a lot of criterias written down seemed too unrealistic for one person to have. So Dazai was convinced this was because Kunikida was not allowing himself to be in a relationship.

After Dazai got a good scolding from Kunikida after getting his notebook back, Dazai decided that instead of simply teasing Kunikida about his 'unrealistic preferences' he would wanna see what is actually Kunikida's type if it were a man. And what better way to start than with himself. Dazai did think Kunikida was handsome and didn't mind the idea of dating Kunikida. Although he'd not push it too hard if Kunikida didn't reciprocate.

Kunikida would be pissed off that Dazai looked in his notebook long enough to have read something. And was concerned that Dazai might've actually found out that he wasn't exactly straight. Kunikida knows that Dazai is no stranger to blackmail. And it would be a pain in his ass if Dazai used it against him.

Kunikida wasn't concerned about some people in the Armed Detective Agency finding out, but he also doesn't want someone else to out him because it's neither their right nor business to do so. He'd keep an eye on Dazai and see if there's an attempt. But nothing really happens at first.

At first.

Eventually Dazai seems playful or teasing towards Kunikida. And the poor man doesn't get why Dazai is being more annoying than usual.

Whenever Kunikida gets paired up with Dazai for a mission, Dazai would do some slight flirting banter and Kunikida either doesn't pick up on it or is flustered by it because he's not used to being flirted on, especially not by a man.

Kunikida does believe that Dazai is conventionally handsome but he didn't have a crush on him. So when Dazai started flirting towards him, he wasn't sure how to feel because on one hand, he doesn't think co workers should be flirting on the job. But at the same time, he didn't mind it.

It would be a blessing and a curse that he tells Dazai to only do that outside of missions.

Because now Dazai is flirting towards Kunikida discreetly.

It starts with simple sticky notes being placed at his desk. Some of the official workers start teasing that Kunikida has a secret admirer and it leads to some light gossiping on wondering who it could be.

Atsushi would ask Kunikida if he has any idea on who it could be. Kunikida does have a good idea on knowing that it's Dazai given how he's been behaving lately and isn't even trying to hide it. Yet at the same time Dazai is doing it in ways where he'd be the only one to notice. However, Kunikida only tells Atsushi that it is someone he knows. This only made the office workers more interested.

The office workers would attempt to bribe Ranpo with sweets to tell them who it could be. Fukuzawa catches wind of this and asks Ranpo to not say who it is since it's not their business to know. Fukuzawa is basically Ranpo's dad so he listens and doesn't say who wrote that love note to Kunikida. Yes, he still takes the sweets.

Ranpo would at this point watch Dazai and Kunikida's interactions from a distance. But he wouldn't do much. At most he'd just say, "Ya seeing this Yosano?" or "Atsushi, take my place for this case, there's a show I'd rather watch".

It takes a bit for Atsushi to figure out Dazai's attraction to Kunikida. Dazai casually tells Atsushi that he's unsure if he'd want to commit double suicide with Kunikida since he knows it would go against Kunikida's ideals.

Dazai would unintentionally developed more proper feelings for Kunikida and start feeling inadequate in the sense that he wants the opposite of what Kunikida's ideals are.

This causes Dazai to feel a bit down but makes attempts to hide it.

Leading Kunikida to pick up on this and bites the bullet to ask Dazai if he's okay since this feels different from his normal antics.

Dazai's chest feels tighter hearing that.

He says nothing but desperately hugs Kunikida. The blonde man is taken back by this however he decides to just confront the brunette in front of him.

Kunikida is confused what's gotten into Dazai. He'll admit, he did think the hug felt nice, and he could tell the hug is sincere.

Kunikida: May you please tell me afterwards what's wrong?

Dazai burrows his face in Kunikida's shoulder

Dazai: Some other time. I just wanna be like this for a bit longer.

They both stood there a bit longer in silence.

The blonde could feel a slight tremble from the brunette. He felt that it was correct to hold the other slightly tighter. He tried gingerly brushing his fingers' through the brunette's locks, in an attempt to calm him down.

More additional silence.

Dazai shifts himself briefly where he looks directly into Kunikida's eyes.

Dazai places his head on Kunikida's chest, hearing his heartbeat.

The brunette closes his eyes and slowly exhales.

Dazai pulls away and gives Kunikida a genuine smile and walks away before Kunikida could say anything.

This felt different from the Dazai he's some to know.

He's unsure if the world is ending or if he got a small glimpse at Dazai's feelings. But he wants to understand what's going on.

The following day the blonde asks Atsushi if Dazai has said or done anything off.

Atsushi didn't see much different from Dazai.

It takes a moment for the silvered haired young man to recall.

Atsushi: He might've mentioned something about your ideals? I'm not sure what he meant at the time.

Kunikida: My ideals? He's never seemed to care about them.

The blonde man started to think.

Meanwhile in the distance Ranpo is witnessing his new soap opera. The events unfolding in front of him-

Kunikida checked the sticky notes that he put into a stack and compared writings from both Dazai's unfinished paperwork and those sticky notes. Yes, they seemed to be a match.

The blonde took a moment to think until it hit him.

...Did Dazai...? Like him that way...?

The thought made his cheeks lightly flush.

Sure, he thought Dazai was conveniently attractive. But he never at that point felt much for the guy in the romantic department.

Looking back at that moment where Dazai hugged him felt nice. It gave him slight butterflies in his stomach as he's trying to recall.

Kunikida texts Dazai to meet him at the park in about 30 minutes. Dazai replies as his usual goofy self. Something Kunikida doesn't argue with in that moment, seeing as how Dazai seems to be avoiding his feelings.

Kunikida grabs his notebook for his ideal woman and heads off to the park.

Atsushi noticed and was about to stop him until Ranpo latched onto him, ordering him to get him some snacks at a nearby store.

Kunikida sits at a park bench and thinks things over several times. Each time made him nervous.

His thoughts would get interrupted when Dazai sits down next to him.

Dazai: My, this is the first time you ask me to hang out.

Kunikida: I wanted to talk to you about something.

Dazai plays dumb and cocks his head slightly to the side.

Dazai: Hm? About what.

Kunikida: How you've been acting recently. Your feelings.

Dazai's face falls to a frown.

Dazai: You have quiet the imagination Kunikida. Leave that to only me and the other kids.

Kunikida scoffed at that last part.

Kunikida: I think we both know what you're talking about.

Kunikida turns his gaze to Dazai and asks sincerely

Kunikida: Do you... Have romantic feelings for me?

Dazai: ...

Kunikida tries studying Dazai's body language. Noting that Dazai is somewhat playing with his hands.

Kunikida: Your handwriting matches the ones on those sticky notes and before that, you even teased me about my ideal woman. Something as of recent bothered you somehow.

Dazai: Oh wow you didn't pull anything back. Something I'd expect from you.

Kunikida: Please answer-

Dazai: So what if it's true? What then?

Kunikida: I'm not sure either.

Dazai: Then I don't feel like answering.

Kunikida: Huh?!

Kunikida was confused what Dazai was trying to pull here. The blonde haired man was trying to clear things up for the two of them, but Dazai doesn't seem to wanna clarify?

Kunikida: That hug the other day... I felt the Dazai that doesn't easily show himself to anyone. Now tell me whats wrong.

Dazai: ...

Kunikida got frustrated and cupped Dazai's face.

Kunikida: Back there, I felt you tremble. I felt you hesitate on something. That isn't normally like you. And your behavior has been off more so than usual. Please, just tell me.

Dazai takes a moment to examine the blonde.

There was silence between the both of them until Dazai broke that silence.

Dazai: Why should I let myself fall in love with someone who wants to live?

Dazai's face falls to frustration with himself

Dazai: Why bother when we're both too different?

Kunikida: So you're admitting it?

Dazai: ...

Kunikida: I think I understand now.

Kunikida holds Dazai's hand gently. He feels he's vaguely understanding Dazai.

Kunikida: It's okay to want to choose life.

Dazai looked into Kunikida's eyes.

Kunikida: This book, is just a fantasy. I don't expect for such a person exist, if there was, then I must be dreaming.

Kunikida pauses.

Kunikida: You know, it's okay to be different from the person you like.

Dazai's heart ached. Tears threatened to fall.

Dazai: I class to hard-

Kunikida: What does your heart want?

Dazai: ...

Kunikida sighs: Here's what mine wants.

The blonde holds up Dazai's hand and gently places his lips on Dazai's knuckles.

Dazai's eyes widen. Tears start pouring from his face.

Kunikida: I... I love you.

The blonde used his thumb to wipe away Dazai's tears.

Dazai: Is it really okay for me to feel this way?

Kunikida: Of course.

Dazai smiles.

He proceeds to mimic Kunikida and held up the blonde's hand. And gently kissed Kunikida's hand.

Dazai: I love you too.

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leupagus · 2 months

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There’s a lot of discourse in fandom about Sansa, Arya, and Cersei’s attitudes toward power and traditional femininity. I’m super curious to see what you think about Sansa and Cersei in particular, especially since we didn’t get a Cersei POV in Gale of Wolves. What does Cersei think of Sansa establishing power in her own right in the North? Does she still crave power for herself? I always thought that Cersei sees her sexuality as a tool or weapon but otherwise is pretty disdainful of women in general. She’s got internalized misogyny in spades.

In Sansa’s case— do you think she still dwells on what she learned from Cersei (either what she was told directly or lessons made indirectly)? I’m thinking about the battle of the black water in the books where Sansa thinks : when I am queen, I will make them love me; in a pretty stark (pun unintended) contrast to Cersei’s rule by fear. I see Sansa choosing to utilize her traditional femininity by wielding soft power that in turn becomes hard power. In your fic, she goes to each of her bannermen, she learns about them, she shows that she cares and probably uses a lot of court/ lady of the house skills she learned. Stannis doesn’t understand it at all, but Sansa has a stronger position in the North than he does anyway.

These are such great questions — I can say that the lack of Cersei POV in A Gale of Wolves was very deliberate, because she gets her own POV chapter in the next section of the story and I wanted her to be a little more opaque at this point. Because you're right, Cersei's going to have a LOT of feelings about Sansa getting control of the North while she's still just the Dowager Queen (even though in this story she's decidedly not going to the Sept's dungeons or enduring the Walk of Shame Atonement). Right now she's so convinced that Sansa murdered Joffrey that everything else kind of simmers under that, but I do think there's a certain degree of envy that Sansa can claim the North for herself and be unchallenged in that, when even her own daughter Myrcella will have some difficulties in laying claim to Casterly Rock (which will get resolved in the next section, but it's still not straightforward because Westeros And Essos Hate Women). There's also a lot of confusion there, because Cersei doesn't have a home the way Sansa does; she grew up in the Westerlands and lived most of her adult life in King's Landing, but what she craves is power and safety, not necessarily a home. So Sansa's motivations themselves are baffling — why fight for the North, a useless great vast nothing? Who could possibly love that place?

The note you make about Cersei using her sexuality is interesting, because I think that's prevalent in the books (I'm not sure since I haven't read them), but really not at all present in the show; in fact I think you can argue that Cersei's whole canonical path in the show is a slow stripping away of her "female-ness," which she hates so much — all that talk about how she should've been the man, how no one could tell her and Jaime apart when they were little, how her appearance and dress grows progressively more masculine. Which I always thought was interesting if you see it as a reaction to trauma: so much of what is done to her is because she's a woman, because she doesn't have power in her own right, and so she reaches for whatever simulacrum she can get. It doesn't work in the end, of course; it never does. But it's a nice dream.

I do agree that Cersei's a misogynist, but...so is everyone in this world, really. Even Dany, even Arya, even Sansa — the world of Westeros is predicated on the inferiority of women, and women themselves have to swim in that water even if they're swimming against the current.

As for Sansa, I think there's a LOT of fascination/repulsion when it comes to Cersei. One of the biggest mistakes the show ever made was never letting Arya or Sansa see Cersei one last time; sure, it's realistic that you don't get closure with your nemesis/abuser, but narratively it would've been so much more satisfying than crushing her with big rocks. Because Sansa's right, in the show where she says she learned a lot from Cersei; in many ways, Cersei was far more her mentor than Littlefinger ever was.

But you're right on the money in re: how Sansa rules, which is not the way a king would rule or the way the wife of a lord would rule, or the way any of the women in power she's met have ruled. It's not feminine so much as Sansa-esque; she is feminine, for sure, but I think a lot of what she does (both in my fic and on the show) is less about gender and more about thoughtfulness. I always think about the comment she makes to Royce about lining the new plate armor with leather when the southern soldiers wouldn't have thought about it, or how she makes Jon the exact replica of their father's cloak just from memory. Sansa is very, VERY good at noticing details and remembering them for later, however irrelevant. Having someone like that in charge of your kingdom is pretty handy.

I think one of the interesting things I'm going to do with the fic is explore some of the lessons that Cersei learns from Sansa — because she'll have time in this fic to see Sansa's method of rule working, and perhaps get enough intel to find out why it does, at least in part. And I don't think Cersei is foolish enough to pass that kind of opportunity up.

#I've been reading the wiki entries for the Dance of Dragons characters and Sansa and Cregan would've gotten along worryingly well #just sitting down and getting the job DONE and then going home #it's pretty great honestly #anyway Sansa wanted to be loved when she was a child but now? I think she's resigned to whatever weird mix of fear resentment and awe #that the Northern lords and smallfolk have for her #they DO love her but it's love that's uncomfortable up close #even for Sansa #anyway this ask got longer than my dick sorry #game of thrones motherfuckers #got: bitches get stuff done

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arabian-batboy · 14 days

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you do realize that jill stein basically is in with the russians and is in putin’s back pocket? she’s practically a russian asset. it’s so obvious that she doesn’t truly understand or cares about how the us political system works and opts to speak political misinformation. if she truly wants to be a good candidate she needs to start at the local governments rather than jumping into the presidential ballot every four years to basically steal votes? she’s just appropriating the current movements that would potentially give her some votes without an actual plan for anything. she’s “anti war” but takes money from lockheed martin? be so fr rn now.

what’s her plan for a ceasefire? a two party state does she understand how the government would come to that? she’s antivax and spreads conspiracy theories - one of the reasons why we even lost in 2016 is bc of people like you voting for her.

it’s unfortunate, believe me, that we even have a two party system. i hate it but that’s simply how the government works and there’s nothing we could do to change that right now, but if you’re voting for hee then you’re voting against women and the lgbt and poc in the us as well. if trump does end of winning this election bc of voters who vote third party, like how he won in 2016, the us is going to be so much worse than what we could possibly ever imagine. there’s so much at stake this election cycle it’s mind boggling.

if she really wanted to be president, she’d start at local elections and work her way up rather than just jumping onto certain states ballots every four years for the presidential election tbh.

You got proof that she receives millions of dollars from Russian lobbies? Because there's proof that Kamala, Biden and Hilary all received millions of dollars from Israeli lobbies in the form of AIPAC publicly announcing that they use lobbying money for them without any shame, they literally don't try to hide it. Yet I don't see you rushing in to call them or any other AIPAC's recipients an 'Israel's asset" or accuse them of being in Bibi's back-pocket......even though they are.

Here's a video of Stein's fundraiser director debunking her receiving money from Lockheed Martin: X

Trump was the first person to become a US's president without any political or military history, people thought it was just a joke when the funny old man from Celebrity Apprentice ran for office yet he won and there's a chance he will win again, so I don't see why holding any local government should be obligatory for 3rd party before jumping straight into the presidential ballot.

I already said everything I wanted to say about voting for 3rd party here X, frankly I have no interests on putting Stein on a pedestal or convincing others that she's a morally good person, all I care about is that she does the bare minimum of "doesn't unconditionally support a genocide against my people" and is the only 3rd party candidate who has any chance of winning, so that's more than enough for me.

But back to you, everything you said is so fucking narcissistic, telling people that are dying that its "simply how the government works and there’s nothing we could do to change that right now" must be easy for you to say because you're not the direct victim of the US's imperialism, but its not our fault that you're such a spineless complicit who believes the US simply can not exist without genocidal war-criminals running the government at all time and everyone who suffers from it should shut up and stop being an inconvenience because things will not change for them and instead they should put your needs and wants before their very lives.

Through-out human history many empires that were considered the strongest in the world came and went, the US empire isn't an exception and if it can't change from within then eventually it will be forcibly changed from the outside and its mostly likely the latter, since asking you to grow a conscious is asking for too much.

Also I just don't understand why you people talk about women, people of color and gay people as if they only exist in the US or that them living in the US while Republicans are in office is somehow worse than living in a country that is currently being bombed by the US? Democrats' bombs kills women, Democrats' bombs kills people of color, Democrats' bombs kills LGBT community, matter of fact Democrats' bombs kills as many people as Republican bombs do, so explain to me how things will be worse for women/PoC/LGBT exactly if the Republican win? Because Republican were in office from 2017 to 2021 and I didn't see minorities in the US being indiscriminately killed by the thousands in day-light without any repercussions for their murder, but they are being killed overseas, both by Republican and Democrats while you are here busy making up cartoonishly-evil scenarios about how the things that are happening to them will happen to you if people vote 3rd party and the Republicans win because of that.

Spoiler Alert: No it will not, you will continue living a safe peaceful life in a developed nation without having to fear 60,000 tons of bombs being dropped on you while you're hiding in a tent in a refugee camp or searching for food among rubble regardless of who wins, whether its the red, blue or green party. So at the very least vote for a 3rd party so that other people from other countries will enjoy the same privilege as you instead of making up ridiculous stories about how all of your human rights will be stripped away if the blue war-criminal wasn't in office so therefore those annoying victims of war should be quiet and dare suggest the heinous crime of voting for a 3rd part.

#I'm not even a US citizen #the only reason I'm involved is because your government effects not just my life but the lives of everyone in my region #green party #jill stein

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justsomeoneunordinary · 1 year

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tbh i hate that a huge portion of the founders fandom is absolutely convinced that hashimito must've been an arranged marriage

first of all, there are no arranged marriages in canon at all, not even hints or implications, so we don't even know if those were ever a thing in naruto canon or not. and to interpret it as such because of the times the founders lived in doesn't make sense either, considering we literally don't know what times those were except for warring times. it's a fantasy setting and just because fanon decided the founders era was the equivalent of japan's edo period doesn't make that suddenly canon. the warring states period happened less than a hundred years before naruto's main storyline, so let's jot that down first.

secondly, "hashirama never mentions mito once" - okay?? because kishimoto has such a great record of writing female characters amiright? during the entire flashback there are no women, except for a single clan shot with touka in it whose name we only know thanks to the data books. she's literally the only one. kishi found the time to fit butsuma and tajima in there, but the mothers?? the women who birthed those 4 respectively 5 children??? non-existent, apparently. he straight-up forgot women even exist when he wrote the whole flashback. so it's really that surprising hashirama doesn't mention her once? when kishi clearly forgot she exists? let's be real, if she were a man we would've gotten a whole flashback of her sealing the kyuubi inside of her, considering she's the first jinchuuriki ever, so her absence has clearly everything to do with her being a woman and kishimoto being kishimoto and nothing with hashirama himself.

also, hashirama is the god of shinobi who somehow managed to convince his clan of peace and the uchiha to seek refuge in the senju of all clans. why would he need to have a political marriage? he could just say no and no one could say anything against that.

idk it just irks me wrong when ppl are so convinced it must've been an arranged marriage and couldn't possibly be based on genuine love solely bc hashi doesn't mention mito during the flashback in a manga written by a man who already doesn't have a great record of writing women in the first place.

just admit you think she'd be in the way of you shipping hashimada if their marraige was out of love and not political and go --

#sorry had to rant for a second #“their marriage was obviously an arranged one” BASED ON FUCKING WHAT?!#just say you hate women and especially when they “get in the way” of your m/m ship and go #hashimito #senju hashirama #uzumaki mito

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hum-suffer · 11 months

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We'll see each other again (nevermind the chasm between us) 10

Amar has known Gauri since before they were even born. They shared the same blood, the same parents and the same womb. The nursemaids gossiped about their birth to this day, whispering about how close they are, how Bahu didn't stop crying until he was laid next to Gauri, how Gauri didn't breathe until she was next to Bahu.

They share a bond, profound— beyond anyone's understanding. He feels what she feels and knows it even before she has identified her emotions. He knows what she's thinking and he knows how it's all gonna end in her emotions bubbling. Gauri feels a lot and sometimes, she can't contain her emotions. He's there to hold her together when she cracks with all the untamed emotions inside her.

He's on an excursion, with Bhalla and Gauri, their guards trailing behind them at an unassuming distance. They're disguised, Bhalla having somehow convinced Maa to let him go out to see the Diwali market. She's angry, Amar can tell that even without being her twin.

Her jaw is set— as she's learnt from Amar himself. Her hair is pulled by in a style she rarely favours and he knows an amateur would assume that is a reason of her irritation but Amar knows his sister and knows something as trivial as that wouldn't even hold her attention beyond a couple of minutes. She's wearing an orange saree, complete with red highlights that match her alta— and he knows she hates this combination beyond relief, she's complained about the saree before.

(It was a gift from some lord, an attempt to win Maa's favour. Obviously, a failed attempt.)

"What is the matter with you?" Bhalla asks her finally, when Gauri has stayed silent for the whole of the excursion and is now still silent on the way back. He's easy to anger, but Bhalla has always had the tact of his father— he's never understood women.

(He was different when they were younger. Bhalla used to know everything that made Gauri happy and everything that made her furious. Amar feels an ache in his chest at losing that but he knows that Bhalla feels pressure to do the best among them as he's the eldest. He doesn't have time to tolerate tantrums, in uncle Bijjaldev's words, and he has a lot of responsibilities.

And anyways, who is ever guaranteed to be the same this day and the next? Time changes even the nature of mother earth, what is the nature of man in front of that?)

Amar won't claim to understand anyone he's never met, but he knows his sister to her very bones and soul. It's his one consistency and he's proud of it. I will understand her today and I will understand her when we're both old and frail, he thinks with pride and humility in the same amount. Thank you, Mahadev, for giving me a sister.

Gauri sighs loudly in irritation. "I am fine, Bhalla. Nothing is wrong."

Gauri has always been a good liar. To anyone but Amar and Bhalla. Sometimes, even Maa can't read her lies as well as the brothers do.

Bhalla obviously knows she's lying too. "Do not insult me with lies. Remain petulant if you must, but do not lie to me, Gauri."

Amar sees the minute wince Gauri suppresses and he wants to punch Bhalla for being so impatient with her. He reaches for her hand and gives her wrist a squeeze that is hopefully reassuring. She doesn't show any response to it.

"Gauri." He knows she'll listen to him and sometimes it breaks his heart to have such power over her. He wishes she didn't love him so wholly, he thinks of the day she will marry and move away to whatever place her husband would be in and his heart burns. He will never be able to live in a world where he's away from his sister. "Please, talk to us."

She side eyes Bhalla as she speaks,"Uncle Bijjaldev and his dearest friend, the Kulpurohit, want me to not join in on the Diwali's Lakshmi Pujan."

Amar sees the way Bhalla stiffens. "And why not?"

"Because it will be only a couple of days after I finish my periods," she says, uncaring of the narrowed looks she receives as people overhear her talking about periods to boys. "Apparently, I will be too impure."

Bhalla doesn't speak anything else but looks away at the main objective of the issue being her periods. Amar frowns. "That's absolutely ridiculous, there's nothing impure about you. There can never be anything impure about you!"

"Thank you!" She exclaims, "That's what I've been trying to tell them! Maa asked to meet me today to discuss the same thing and she is seriously considering banning me from the puja because she believes the Rajpurohit."

Amar hears Bhalla groan. "I understand why you're angry, Gauri, but seriously, who can go against the Rajpurohit?"

Something akin to dread trickles down his spine and Amar thinks and oh. No. No. No.

He thinks of Gauri, excluded from the puja and confined to her rooms. Gauri, alone, only with Bhairav and some guards to protect her. Gauri, who already has had an assassination attempt on her. Gauri, who could be killed so goddamn easily away from their eyes. Gauri, who could die. Cease to exist. Amar doesn't think he can imagine a world without her. His sister, half of his heart, his twin, dying. He can't think of the possibility, he can't. Gauri can't die. They can't serve his sister to the assassin on a silver platter, no.

Fuck their notion of made up impurity.

Amar will never lose his sister, not at any cost.

"You don't understand anything, Bhalla," she says heatedly,"Your presence in any ritual hasn't been brought to a question because of your bodily functions! And Rajpurohit is making this up, I know it, there's no way periods are impure, they're the reason people are born!"

"The religious texts do say that women should not get involved in activities during their...problem." Bhalla says, sounding so disinterested that Amar knows he's contradicting Gauri only to distract her from her anger and not because he actually believes the bullshit he's spouting.

Gauri's ears turn red in her anger. "I agree periods are inconvenient enough to be a problem, but saying the word won't make you faint, brother! And the religious texts say that because women need rest in their periods. Do you even know how much my legs, back, stomach and head are aching at this moment? Do you know how nauseous I felt after breakfast today? Do you know my whole body is aching right now and I have these irritating breakouts on my face? The texts say women should not perform stressful tasks, not that they mustn't perform any tasks of import. Yagnas and pujas are stressful because we have to sit in the same position for hours, and because women's bodies are more receptive to energies in their periods and hence also soak up any and all kinds of energies, especially in yagnas, which are literally based on positive and negative energy and enforcement."

"Breathe, you annoyance," Bhalla says, sighing heavily and pulling Gauri closer to hug her sideways. "I understand your perspective and I'm sorry for assuming anything otherwise. Now, do you want a piggyback ride as repayment?"

Gauri thinks about it for a moment but Amar knows she's going to say yes. She hesitates a lot in her path to happiness but she loves the beloved treatment she gets, being their only sister.

She nods finally and all three of them stop in sync. Amar instinctually knows Mama, Bhairavrath and Advaita, their guards, are instantly suspicious. Bhalla hunches down and Gauri hands Amar the money pouch she'd been carrying before hopping onto his back. Amar smiles at the two of them, their grins big and eyes filled with merriment as Gauri winds her dhoti clad legs around Bhalla's waist and laughs loudly, in Bhalla's ear.

"I will throw you off," Bhalla threatens her playfully. They all know he'd never hurt either of them.

He looks at Amar,"What's gotten into you now?"

Amar shakes his head, still thinking about his sister, dead in a room they used to share, blood staining her purple bedsheet.

From Bhalla's back, Gauri raises her eyebrows comically and despite not wanting to, Amar snorts. "Let's go before Mama tells us about how inappropriate behaviour this is."

He doesn't have to, Amar can feel all the questioning stares burning onto the three of them already.

Bhalla begins to speedwalk instantly and Amar chuckles. Gauri looks over her shoulder at Amar, who's a couple paces behind them.

'I love you.' He mouths to her.

'I love you more.' She mouths back, grinning.

He doesn't argue, he knows it's true. No one will ever love him like Gauri does. His heart gets heavier, the thought of parting from her in any way will kill him one day.

But he won't let her die, not as long as lives. As long as Amrendra Bahubali lives, so shall Gauraangi Devi.

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He finds Maa on a swing in the west wing of the palace. He knows she favours the spot, for it is silent and peaceful here. The moon looks wonderful and the stars shine so beautifully that he sometimes doesn't move from this very spot for hours.

"Am I allowed to intrude?" He asks playfully.

Maa turns back to him with a smile that brightens her face and beckons him forward. "Bahu, of course, come. Sit beside me, here." She moves to make space for him and slows the swing down to let him sit.

"Gauri was furious today," he says after a long silence. Maa hums. "Do you believe women in their periods are impure?"

Maa shakes her head. "Never, son. Women are part of Shakti, the reason for the universe, they cannot be impure unless it is in regards to their own karma. However, the council isn't made of men as understanding as you and Bhalla."

"But why are Gauri's periods known to them in the first place?" He asks, miffed at the break in the privacy of his sister,"She has her right to privacy and autonomy."

Maa nods regretfully. "That she does. But Gauri has excruciating periods, like your grandmother. She pretty much cannot do anything for at the very least the first two days of her periods. Her absence makes it obvious."

Amar purses his lips. He will find out the names of these over-interested councilmen later and have a talk with them about just what the hierarchy between the princess and the council is.

"You must let her come to the Puja, Maa. You know how much she likes Diwali. It's her favourite time of the year!"

Maa looks down at her lap, clearly saddened too. "And I want to. But people here are too orthodox and I don't want an unnecessary political fight to ensue with my daughter being at the centre of it. She's bright and mature, but I won't expose her to any kind of backlash, if I can help it."

Wonder fills Amar's heart. Here is Maa, thinking of never letting Gauri face backlash even if she is held as a culprit in Gauri's eyes. And there is Gauri, thinking of never letting Maa face backlash, even if she has to risk her life. Women love so deeply, he thinks, for a moment drowning in the sheer love they carry in their hearts.

But he knows what is the bigger necessity and he doesn't care about orthodox people, he cares to not leave his sister's life to fate and chance.

"Tell them, Maa, if they won't let my sister attend the puja, I won't be there either." His heart is beating wildly in his chest but he knows he will hold his ground. He will never compromise Gauri for anything.

Maa's eyes widen and he feels regret for a moment for causing her strife but it is soon replaced by his love for Gauri.

"Bahu, don't be stubborn. You don't know the things she will hear if she comes to the Puja. I cannot throw every person who slanders her in the dungeons, son and I won't have my daughter crying in Diwali."

"And I won't have my sister feeling ostracised in Diwali, Maa. If they don't want the daughter of their previous King, they won't get the son of their previous King. I mean no disrespect to you, Maa, but I will not leave my sister at any cost." Anxiety flutters in his chest.

(He remembers once choosing Maa about Gauri once, when they were being given separate rooms. He remembers Gauri crying and he acutely knows how unloved she must have felt. He's never going to let her feel so again. Even if there wasn't a threat hanging over her, Amar is never going to leave his sister to misery again. Never again.)

Maa sighs and she suddenly looks so tired, Amar wants to curl up beside her and offer her any comfort he can. But he holds his ground.

Maa shakes her head. A smile slowly blooms on her face. "You are your mother's son." She looks down again, before looking up at him,"You must also realise that I would never let my daughter be isolated from her own rights and family in any condition, Bahu."

"So, Gauri is allowed to attend the puja?"

Maa chuckles as if he said something endearingly amusing. "Yes, Bahu."

Realisation dawns on him.

"You deliberately took their side to see what I would respond with!" Maa shrugs, unashamed of her ploy. Amar shakes his head at her and laughs, throwing his arms around her. "Don't scare me like that again! I don't like fighting with you."

"It's a lesson, Bahu," she says, caressing his hair,"Your Maa or the world around you won't always be correct. But stand your ground. Stay with the truth. Do not ever stray from your duty." He nods dutifully.

When he's finally getting up to leave for his room, Amar looks back at Maa. "Don't worry, Maa. You can't throw everyone who slanders her into the dungeons. But I will cut the tongues of any man who badmouths my sister." Even my uncle. Especially Even the Rajpurohit.

Amar has a simple idea of life: Gauri before everything else.

If his uncle can't accept that truth, he will have to learn to live a bitter life.

Maa gives him a smile that he can't decipher beyond pride and he doesn't care to. He wishes her a good night and leaves, wanting to be the first one to tell Gauri the good news.

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An empty home is never fulfilling.

Bhairav has spent the past years trying to live the way his sister would have wanted him to but it's difficult to keep living when all the goodness of his life is dead.

He hates that he locks the door behind him when he leaves, but as soon as he's back on duty to the palace, all the thoughts of melancholy are locked away. He needs to be at his best if he's ever going to be good enough to protect the princess of Mahishamati and wallowing in unresolved grief really isn't the best way to go about doing that.

Yamuna, the guard who takes the night shift to guard the princess' door gives him a curt nod before leaving. He's given up trying to make conversation with the girl, he knows she doesn't like fruitless conversations.

It's almost an hour later that the princess steps out of the room, dressed in a saree as beautiful as the blue sky and her hair tied in a braid, resting on her shoulder, adorned with pearls.

"Bhairav." She greets him with a slight nod and a smile as they begin walking towards the east wing of the palace, where the princess and the princes have their lessons.

(And isn't that new? Who called him with a nickname last time? How many years has it been? He knows exactly how many years, even days, it's been since someone said his name so tenderly and with affection. The soldier that Katappa made him often peels back like a mask and all he can remember is the child who cursed how powerless he truly was.

"You are my protector and sword, thus, I will be your defender and shield. You shall face no stigma under my service. So I've sworn, and may Mahadev strike me dead if I stray from my oath."

The words echo in his ears and he feels the power thrumming through his veins.)

"My princess." He greets her back, forcing himself to be more alert as they pass the silent hallways. He's even more suspicious of people these days, since the day the princess has revealed that she thinks someone tried to assassinate her.

Katappa would have his head if he said it out loud, but Bhairav already has his suspicions on why anyone would want to kill the princess that is so obviously beloved by the general public.

Since swearing to be her sword, Bhairav has accompanied her to all the donations she has done, to all the temple visits (may they be at midnight), to all the blessings she has received from the common people. He has witnessed it all.

He walks behind her, knows she doesn't particularly like it but he also knows his limits. He's a servant, his place is behind his mistress.

She walks with the power of a Queen.

Bhairav can't help but lament the fact that Mahishamati isn't a Queendom. If it were, Gauraangi Devi would be the best thing that would happen for the state. It's a treacherous idea, but he has enough idea of the characters of this generation of royals to know how emotional Prince Bhallaldev is, how trusting Prince Bahubali is and how loving Princess Gauri is. She is the most immune option of them all.

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Most days, Bhairav can't even fathom the trust his princess shows in him.

They're sitting in a room, him, and the royal twins. Bahubali is undoubtedly displeased by his presence but has accepted it because he knows Bhairav will slit his own throat rather than betray his princess.

"I knew I'd heard of this Satyaveer somewhere," Bahubali said. "He served as a chamber servant to Uncle Bijjaldev, he was the one who was instructed to make my current room liveable when we first separated from the original room."

It's a controversial topic, as far as Bhairav is aware. Everyone knows the storm the princess kicked up when she felt that her bond with her brother was threatened. People often laugh about it, calling it a little girl's tantrum.

(But Bhairav knows how much he craves for such vehement demands. Because no one loves him enough to fight for him. No one knows him enough. No one wants him enough. Anyone who did is dead. Maa, Jijaji, Didi—

Dead.)

(How he wishes someone loved him. Loved him enough to fight for him. Demand for him.)

"If I may, your highness," he says, pulling himself out of his thoughts,"I followed Satyaveer on the days that my princess was ill. He seems to have an affinity for secret passages."

The Princess looks at him sharply. "Which secret passages, exactly, Bhairav?"

"The one beside the statue of Indra dev on the second floor of the west wing, my princess." He's noted down everything about this. He can't even think of failing his princess, she deserves the best to protect her and guard her and Bhairav will not break her trust by letting some cowardly bitch kill her.

The twins share a look. There's a set to the princess' jaw that foretells horror.

"That passage leads to the floor that has a royal suite, used by Uncle Bijjaldev and Maa and the room reserved for the Kulpurohit." Bahubali says. Bhairav narrows his eyes. Rajmata Shivagami Devi would never want the princess dead, that's beyond ridiculous. The woman loves the twins like her own children, she would never let anyone else harm them, let alone plan their assassination.

Oh.

The Princess sucks in a breath. Bahubali shakes his head,"That's ridiculous! Neither Maa nor Uncle would want you dead. The Kulpurohit..?"

The Princess purses her lips. "Uncle wants Bhalla to be the next King. The Kulpurohit has hated me since I first demanded an apology from him for not letting me enter the study rooms on my periods."

"Leave, Bhairavrath." Bahubali says. Bhairav looks at the princess for a moment and she nods at him.

He leaves the room immediately. It's treacherous to think so, but Bhairav thinks his suspicions are only proving correct.

Bijjaldev wanted to be the King but wasn't made one. He wants his blood on the throne. The Princess may not be a contender for the throne but she is the sole power of Bahubali. Without her, Bahubali won't have the same power. He will be loved and liked and adored, he will be courageous and daring and strong, but the power behind the throne won't be wholly his. He wouldn't be able to wield it to his full potential without her.

Hell, from what Bhairav has seen, without the princess, Bahubali would probably give up materialistic things in life. They're both too entangled in their bond to ever survive the death of the other.

Kill one, and the other will instantly be dead.

He keeps his thoughts to himself. Heads have rolled for less.

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What do we think?????

Tagging: @vijayasena @alhad-si-simran @o-merebholebalam

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