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abyssruler · 2 years

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like bread and pastries (you make me feel soft)

scaramouche x gn!reader

prince kunikuzushi can be described as mean at best, and a tyrant at worst. it comes as no surprise when years pass after his coming of age and he still hasn’t received any marriage proposals or even had a single lover. not that he would desire any of those small minded plebeians unworthy of his hand, but you, he decides, you might just be alright in his books. or — a prince and his baker.

fluff, soft scara (kinda), prince!scara, baker!reader, royalty au, bc i love the trope where the cruel and intimidating person is soft for one person and one person only

Prince Kunikuzushi’s love life—rather, his lack of one—has always been a topic of contention between the nobles of Inazuma. Some wonder if he will ever truly marry, what with his less-than-affable personality (which was, in high society terms, a sugarcoated way of saying he was an asshole). Others speculate that his mother might try to intervene and set him up with someone of reputable background.

What they don’t know—and if anyone ever found out, he would personally silence them to keep his secret safe—is that he is seeing someone. Just not someone they’d particularly find worthy or even interesting, but Kunikuzushi would beg to differ.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’re not allowed to eat the cookies until they’re at least cool enough?”

No one, not even his own mother or younger sister, would have the audacity to speak that way to him, let alone look him in the eye unflinchingly with a threatening spatula held in the air.

You’re covered in flour, from your hair to your clothes to the smear on your cheek that has his fingers itching to wipe it off. Your back is held straight, chin up and utterly unafraid to meet his stare head on as if he isn’t the heir to the shogunate and will one day rule the very country you reside in, as if his reputation for being all too happy to order someone’s tongue cut off for any insult, imagined or not, doesn’t even register in your head.

And if it’s you, well, then you have a perfectly good reason why.

Kunikuzushi drops the cookie he’d been in the middle of taking a bite out of into the tray, letting his displeasure known by crossing his arms and turning away from your chiding stare with a frown that could almost be called petulant.

“I pay you to make cookies for me, you know,” he grumbles, but you respond by huffing in amusement.

“Your mother pays her retainers, who then pay the right people, who then pay me to bake in the kitchens for the royal family and their guests.”

He raises his brow. “Practically the same thing.”

You pinch his arm for his sass, and any other person would have been met with a backhand across the face and an immediate order to be whipped fifty times in the public city square, would have had their hand cut off for even daring to touch, let alone harm, the Crown Prince of Inazuma, but you—

You make him so disgustingly soft. Like butter left to melt in the sun, and really, that’s what you are: a sun. Dazzling and blinding and so very unattainable.

“The point is, my prince, you can afford to have a little patience every now and then,” you tell him, lowering your spatula and placing it on the table.

“I’m a very patient person.” He smiles, the kind he knows unsettles you because, and he quotes, it gives you the heeby-jeebies to see something so fake and uncharacteristically sweet on his face.

“I doubt that,” you respond, poking the cookie with a finger to check if it’s cooled enough already. With a grin, you pick one up and bring it to his mouth. “Say aah.”

He looks at you blankly. “Not even a minute ago and you were scolding me for trying to eat one.”

“I’m a changed person.” You send him a cheeky smile, gesturing to the cookie still outstretched in front of his awaiting lips. “So?”

Kunikuzushi rolls his eyes. If anyone had dared to do something so childish, something so debasing and humiliating in front of him, coercing him to do something he would have never done in his life even under sword point, he would have had their heads cut off and fed to the monsters that lurk outside the city.

But since it’s you…

Fine.

He opens his mouth, face warm at the embarrassing display, and says, “Aah.”

You laugh in delight, bringing the cookie to his lips. The taste of dough and something that faintly reminds him of vanilla bursts in his tongue. It’s soft and chewy, like bread and melted chocolate. He isn’t one for overly cloying sweets, especially not the ones his mother so favors, but the ones you make are always somehow just right for him.

Leaning close, you eye him with anticipation. “How is it?”

He chews for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before he ultimately decides that he’s been far too lax in reminding you of who he is and his reputation. “It’s passable.”

…Is he really so far gone that that is the best insult he could think of on the spot?

He could name a few adjectives that he’s prone to use on the daily. Disgusting, revolting, terrible, abhorrent, nauseating, repugnant—to name a few. But, somehow, his mouth refused to form the words, so he was left to say passable instead.

“If it’s passable, then I guess it’s not enough for your refined palate,” you feign distress, turning to the tray of cookies and making a move to grab them. “I suppose I’ll have to throw these away…”

For the second time that day, he does something he considers beneath him and rolls his eyes. “Stop the dramatics. The cookie was…” the muscles on his mouth hurt with the effort to say something not unkind, “…good.”

You beam, all crinkled eyes and lovely upturned lips. It makes his heart palpitate, probably because of how adorable abhorrent he finds the sight. “Hehe, I knew you’d like it.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he tells you, lest you suddenly think he actually likes you, never mind the fact that he was the one who hounded your attention and made the first move to kiss you all those months ago.

“Whatever you say,” you sing-song, leaning on the counter beside him and getting flour on his immaculate robes when your arm brushes up against his. “But I was wondering why you came to visit me today. You told me yesterday that you had pressing matters to attend to.”

Ah, right. The reason for his sudden appearance in Tenshukaku’s kitchens. The conversation with his mother yesterday repeats in his head.

“My mother wants me to find someone to marry as soon as possible.” Kunikuzushi looks at you, eyes wide and expectant.

Your eyes suddenly dim, looking down at your feet in an uncharacteristic show of hesitance. “Oh. Then… I wish you and whoever you choose as your spouse the best of wishes.”

A muscle in his brows twitch. He can’t believe you didn’t get the hint. Are you truly going to make him say it?

Something distinctly uncomfortable tugs at his chest when he sees you fiddling with your fingers.

Tch. Fine.

“It’s you,” idiot, he wants to add, but his tongue seems to have a mind of its own. “I came here to tell you that you’re going to marry me.”

Your head snaps up, face a mixture of shock and hesitant hope. But then you grimace, “But you’re the prince, and I’m…”

He scoffs. “So? Once we’re married, any insult directed toward you is an insult to me as well. I’ll have them killed—if you want.” The last part is added only because he saw you go pale at the mention of killing people.

“Right, but…” you trail off, tilting your head to him and narrowing your eyes. There it is, that audacious spark that captured his attention from the beginning. “You’re supposed to ask me to marry you, not order me around.”

His face pinches.

“Well, my prince? Are you gonna ask me or not?” you tease.

The sheer nerve at your audacious request. If you were one of the mindless nobles that scurry about his mother’s court, he would have you whipped. Insolent, impertinent, brazen, and a mischievous smile that has him so utterly—

Whipped.

He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms and feeling his cheeks redden. His eyes meet yours unflinchingly despite the erratic beating of his heart.

“Will you marry me?”

One month and many arguments and severed tongues later, the Crown Prince Kunikuzushi is wed to you.

And if Yae Miko uses that opportunity to write a light novel fanfiction about the prince and his baker, well, she responds to Kunikuzushi’s angry letter with a signed copy of the book’s first edition and a note about how much the people loved it and how his reputation has skyrocketed because of it.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #kabukimono x reader #wanderer x reader #gn reader

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itoshiexx · 1 year

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mi vida

synopsis: sae never thought someone could become his life, but that changed when you came.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 749 | warnings: established relationship, fluff

notes: welcome back to "things i wrote on a whim when my boss wasn't at the office"!! apparently i write a lot better in english without much planning, so yeah. this idea came to me based on a personal experience, since i call my boyfriend "minha vida" (which is the same for "mi vida"/"my life" in portuguese) and i never really thought i could consider someone to be my life before him.

i really really hope you like it, and i wanna thank you all so much for all the love you've given to Unworthy (but chosen), every note and follower made me super happy! <3

and also, i'm so sorry if my description of the spanish culture is not accurate and for any english mistakes!

during his time in spain, sae learned a lot of things. mainly, how to improve his soccer career even more, striving to become the best in the world after already being the best in his country.

he was a genius, of course, so it wasn’t really hard to learn the language or get acquainted with the city of madrid, which was a lot warmer than japan — in many ways. however, it was really fucking hard to get used to the customs of the spanish people and its culture, considering it was so different from the japanese. they were extremely welcome, and sae was anything but. if anything, he was even more closed than typical japanese people.

in spain, people were always greeting each other with a kiss on each cheek, showing off bright smiles and making conversation with strangers. friends talked loudly among each other, giving hugs and always touching somehow. the concept of personal space? totally nonexistent. in short, it was weird.

but nothing was weirder than couples.

the concept of love was already foreign to sae. he didn’t understand how a feeling could envelop one so much and make it forget about the rest of the world. he didn’t know how such an abstract thing, with no sense of logic whatsoever, could be so overwhelming to the point of taking one’s life completely, until all you could see, think and feel was your significant other.

most of all, he couldn’t fathom how someone could become your life.

“te amo, mi vida,” was what he used to hear an old couple say to each other. they were the owners of sae’s favorite restaurant, a small little place in the suburbs of Madrid, and always treated him with a kindness he didn’t deemed himself worthy of.

at first, he wasn’t able to comprehend what the sentence meant. he could barely write it on google translate to try to get its meaning, and he didn’t really care enough. though, as the time went by and sae became more fond of the couple, he eventually gathered the courage to ask the woman about it. and he was very surprised to hear the answer.

“it means ‘i love you, my life’,” she said, smiling from ear to ear and handing a glass of salted kombucha tea to sae. it was one of the reasons he adored the place so much — it was the only restaurant he found that served his favorite drink.

the older itoshi could only stare, dumbfounded, and mumble, “…why?”

the woman laughed at the boy’s naiveté. “why, you ask? because that’s what he is to me.”

sae only stared in silence, too stunned to speak.

“i… i don’t understand,” he confessed. it sounded silly, and kind of pathetic, but at that moment he didn’t really care. the woman gave another smile, this time an understanding countenance, and placed her wrinkly hand on his shoulder.

“you will understand one day, boy. and when your person comes, make sure to bring them here, right? i’d like to meet them!”

the soccer player wanted to tell her that it would never happen. that the itoshi sae had no time for foolish things like love, and he most certainly would never love someone so much to the point of seeing them as his life. his life was soccer, and his goal was to become the best in the world.

there was nothing else.

oh, how he bit his tongue.

it was at the age of twenty two when he entered the restaurant once again, and this time, not alone. you were walking by his side, with your hand intertwined in his, chatting excitedly while he just listened. a small smile was on his face, and his features were impossibly soft, in a way they only got around you.

you, who were light in the darkness, who were comfort after a long day of practice, who was the one he loved most. you, who was the definition of home in every sense of the word. the only one that could make his heart swell so much it made it hard to breathe.

he pulled your chair for you to sit like a true gentleman, and sat right next to you, always in need to touch you somehow. a hand was placed on your thigh while the other one opened the menu. and he turned to you, voice gentle like you could break:

“so, what would you like, mi vida?”

you, who was his life.

#bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #blue lock x reader #blue lock drabbles #blue lock fluff #blue lock #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock sae #sae x reader #sae fluff

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yonkokraven · 2 months

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Leak night and A Little Rant: Soulless ending for a Hero Journey (MHA 430 Spoilers)

Horikoshi now I understand why you were afraid that your manga would be cancelled, because you don't deserve that position

Seriously, there are so many things wrong here, not only because you contradicted yourself from the previous chapter and doubled down on making us ignore it completely, but you expect me to feel like this ending is worthy of being called bittersweet when it doesn't qualify as an ending to any of the plots presented.

Midoriya Izuku, someone who at the time I saw the potential to be a Superman, a Spiderman, a genuine hero reduced to a teacher with the same expressionless image for 8 years before being given a suit to be a hero (Which he didn't need because Midoriya's strength without the OFA is already superhuman)

No, I'm not going to start the Rant like this, sorry, but I'm seriously upset with the insult that this chapter has become.

The Chapter

Chronologically, the chapter tells us that time passed normally at the academy before the war, Bakugo adapted to being ambidextrous, Gran Torino seems to have recovered although he probably died at most a year later, Tokoyami and Hawks talking, Aizawa and Mic in the cemetery (unfortunately Aizawa is still alive), the League of Villains book is on sale and several other things.

And then...

“I was able to live a dream that should have been impossible. The story that began when my body moved before I could even think has come to an end alongside the embers of One For All”.

Midoriya loses the last embers of One For All during the last days of the academy as indicated in the full panel, so it seems that he did not become a hero with his classmates.

8 years after graduation, the perspective changes to Dai, this young man who appeared at the beginning of the final war arc. And we have mentions of La Brava (who has her own IT company and is married to Gentle), Doctor Yoshida (the doctor Yoshi) and Hatsume (who seems to have a very renowned Laboratory)

Dai is being bullied for his quirk, and one of his classmates says that now that the number of heroes has stabilized, only the strongest quirks will have a chance in the academies.

Dai says that unlike the others, he did not change, he feels like a child for wanting to be like All Might, Endeavor, Jeanist, Deku or Dynamight, and his insecurity guides him to the Statue of All Might.

There is another scene change that shows us more of the students of class A

Shoji receives an award for resolving prejudiced conflicts in a peaceful manner, and he thanks all the heteromorphs who went to the hospital 8 years ago and who are only there thanks to their will.

Uravity, Ingenium, Froppy and Creati are now a team of heroes (possibly oriented to everyday and rescue situations) who go around the country's schools explaining a new and important aspect of society: the expansion of quirk counseling.

And Eri attends a music club with friends from her school.

Aizawa talks to Midoriya and shows him a video of Bakugo yelling at a civilian for filming him too closely, and points out that this will cause Bakugo to fall in the Ranking and Todoroki to rise (we are told that Shoto works day and night, yet he is still kind to his fans and people)

Shoto is no longer known as "Endeavor's Son", but as his own hero identity.

Aizawa asks Deku if he feels lonely, and Deku answers that since his talk with Fuwa (in chapter 425) he realized that he can use his knowledge and experience to help other people even without having a quirk. And he says he thinks this is a cool way to live.

Midoriya asks Aizawa if he agrees with him, but Aizawa says that he should be strict with his students, since many who enter UA believe that they are guaranteed passage into the profession and tend to become arrogant if there is no one who is strict and corrects their path.

Midoriya says that since graduation he has barely seen his friends as their days off don't coincide. As he walks home, Midoriya looks out at the scene, Tokoyami or Kirishima products on TV screens, or children playing in the street.

One of these children trips and Midoriya goes over to help, and notices Dai coming over as well.

Dai talks to him about his insecurities and how he comes to see the statue of All Might every time he feels that way, and asks Midoriya,

"Can I be a hero like All Might and You?"

Midoriya remembers his conversation with All Might and begins to analyze Dai's Quirk, a Quirk that allows him to create plates from his hair. Dai is somewhat surprised by Midoriya's way of speaking but understands that he is trying to help him.

"Now it's my turn to give people dreams"

Midoriya tells Dai that he will be okay, because he helped that kid and confirms that he can be a hero. The next panel shows us the new statue of All Might with new additions, statues of civilians rooting for him. Midoriya tells Dai to do his best.

"If I said I'm not a little sad, I'd be lying. However, I can at least encourage other people like that. And that was the story of how we all became the greatest heroes."

All Might appears before the chapter comes to an end and destroys the "END" with his own hand.

All Might apologizes for the delay, while Midoriya tells him that he could have met him at the airport, but All Might says that he wanted to give him a surprise gift while explaining that the data collected from his fight against All For One 8 years ago opened up huge possibilities. All Might gives his disciple a Briefcase.

"Technology evolves just like quirks."

Midoriya says it must have cost a fortune, but All Might says it was created by a friend of US (possibly Melissa and her father) and Hatsume, and the expenses were paid jointly by all the students of class A, especially Bakugo.

“Take this to heart, kid. You've earned this power too, fair and square.”

Deku smiles, we get a panel of Bakugo calling Midoriya, and then Hawks being informed about a landslide on a highway and he asks for any heroes who can to report to the place immediately. Midoriya jumps up using his new support and looks down for a moment, seeing the "ghost" of Shigaraki.

The last page is a double spread of Class A as adults in their hero outfits.

"This is the story of how we will continue to reach out."

A Rant

Well, to begin to understand this chapter and give it a proper rant, I summarized it, and for that reason I want to talk about some things and say again that it is a deteriorated ending for how the Manga began.

Things seem to change but at the same time they stay the same, it's basically like raising the sails of a ship to half mast, you go in the same direction, but slower.

Horikoshi doesn't have a clear perspective for Midoriya in the chapter since he alternates protagonism with Dai, this student who barely appeared once

Dai gives us the perspective of the new generation, and again strength prevails over heroism since Hawks didn't start to reward what really mattered, precisely: Heroism.

Midoriya decides that he will be a teacher since he doesn't have a Quirk to practice the profession of hero, a stupid thing because in previous occasions we were shown that Midoriya's physical strength without the OFA was abundant, although it is understood that Midoriya wants to teach we don't see anything about his class or how he teaches.

The heroes are still people without personal lives, and this is highlighted by the little interaction time that Midoriya had with his friends in a span of 8 years, in addition to Shoto patrolling day and night.

The plot of Shoji and the heteromorphs seems to improve as well as that of Uraraka, both being heroes they try to educate civilians so that people like Toga are helped or the heteromorphs can live with dignity.

Spinner released his book but we didn't see a reaction from the people, but from Compress who had no relevance in this manga.

There is something very wrong with all this and it is that they build us up to the idea that change will happen in the long run, when Horikoshi had the means to immediately begin said changes (And no, I'm not referring to civilians).

Midoriya should have had recognition and interviews for his motivations, even if you don't want to tell the whole story Midoriya would say that he brought Shigaraki to where he was (ridiculous reason but it would be a way to justify it) and people would stop looking the other way

Uraraka could have done what she does now from the academy and interviews, but you didn't allow it either.

Shoji and the heteromorphs was a beautiful plot but you did everything so off-screen that it loses the impact of these two panels that you dedicated to the chapter.

Hawks is now at the head of the commission, and the only thing you did was fix half the problem by adding the top "Eiyuu" when you should also have eliminated the old top that makes people perceive power as something rewardable.

And do you know, readers, why all this is happening? Because Horikoshi most likely has a sequel prepared, because if not, it would not explain the amount of inconsistencies that arose in this last final arc and later this attempt at an epilogue (It literally still makes me sick that he wasted the portal resource like that.)

I would detail for the umpteenth time the inconsistencies when writing the League of Villains or the lack of evolution outside of panels, but you already know my opinion about that and more.

I only hope that on August 5th the news is not a sequel or I will have to mentally prepare myself to see another decade of inconsistencies.

and yes, Deku will have a new OFA in part 2, the ghosts (Shigaraki) don't appear on the street just because.

#bnha critical #mha critical #mha 430 #bnha 430 #hori is a bad writer #bnha leaks #mha leaks

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slavonicrhapsody · 2 months

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i think rykard had a tendency to disregard formality except as Ritual or as Political Ambition, like as just a headcanon. the way he marries tanith and deeply adores and confides in her, when a lot of her descriptions emphasize the potential gulf in social power between them (drawing on a lot of tropes heavily associated with the character of Lowborn Sex Worker Consort) and how he held a disregard for the way the Golden Order handles itself (creating a strict orderly hierarchy of power between its peoples and appropriate mannerisms between one class and another (see the pages and how kenneth haight talks)) and how he has a studious scholalry streak from his archeology at mt gelmir and his sorceries, i can see him as being this larger than life figure who takes the formality inherent to ritual worship and power and really pushes that to its limit to get the kost bang for his buck, just going all in, which builds up this idea of a figure out of legend, and then its immediately contrasted by a frank, casual manner of speaking outside of those circumstances, a way where he holds himself as a singularly powerful lord but despite that hes easy to talk to, and he values the opinions and ideas of those who would normally be his "lessers" or "beneath him" and takes them seriously and treats them with respect

a lord who takes counsel from prince and pauper alike, who married a dancer, who speaks bluntly and without shame but encourages others to do so as well, who embraces the blasphemous and heretical such that you never feel you have to hide anything from him, but when he conducts a ceremony for the great serpent its like the whole world stops to bend its ear for the way he channels such power and authority that you cant help but believe that hes truly something different from all of you, and yet despite this you speak freely to him anyways. such a man could inspire ruthless loyalty to the bitter end with ease, throughout the most horrible of wars, all until it hits that critical breaking point of the serpent, and even then some still cant bring themselves to break away from him

ok theres ABSOLUTELY a theme of repudiating the conventions of nobility and class with Rykard… I think his belief system is based on the idea that the gods are no better than mortals, and they have no inherent divine right to rule: “When Rykard turned to heresy, taking by force became the rule. The gods were no different, after all.” The gods “take by force” just like any common mortal tyrant, so why should we accept that they have an inherent authority over us? There’s this theme of seizing one’s own fate and taking power for oneself — like Bernahl calling out to the Greater Will directly that “we refuse to become your pawns” — which I think would be really inspiring to like, a common soldier who’s felt disrespected and taken for granted all their life. Though Rykard is as noble as they come, he too is fighting against a suffocating Order. Tanith explicitly likens the plight of ordinary Tarnished to the Shardbearers… they’re all made to “scurry about, fighting over what miserly scraps they allow us.”

Speaking of Tanith, Rykard making her his consort is such a deliberate political statement? Lords like Kenneth Haight would no doubt look down on her because of her commoner foreigner background, like he even calls Godrick, a demigod, a “country bumpkin!” Marrying Tanith instead of someone from Erdtree nobility shows that Rykard doesn’t care at all about established class structure… why is Tanith any less worthy than an Erdtree noble? I think Tanith is speaking from experience when she says this about Rya: “Besides, no-one should be blamed for their heritage. Think about it. We are resisting the ways of the Erdtree itself. What matters one's lineage in such a crisis.”

basically one of Rykard’s blasphemous beliefs is that the gods are only gods because they are strong enough to stay in power and keep people under their control. he would have a society where every person is the master of their own fate. at least I think that’s what his followers thought before he fed himself to a serpent god and started eating people

#asks #rykard #elden ring #at the same time i feel like at heart rykard doesnt actually care about meaningfully changing society #he just feels massively insulted by the gods in power and wants to become more powerful than them. hence the serpent god #tyrannical gods who use people as pawns are BAD. unless theyre meeeee :3

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fcknstar · 1 year

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hey! i read ur marcus lopez fic and absolutely loved it ur so talented omg

i’m as wondering if i could request a fic with prompt 12 with marcus lopez x reader?

🫶

and if so could you also add me to your tag list?

,, after dark "

pairings : marcuslopez x gn!reader

summary : sometimes your past do catches up to you.

content warnings : disagreements

** lowercase intended**

if saying that you had your life together was an understatement. you were working for the biggest and most respected mafias in the country. it was normal to see at least one dead body in the alleyway. a lifeless body, dumped as if it had no worth that got pushed away as a broken furniture no one saw worthy to save.

you were just an assistant who also worked as a hitman, being payed high for even injuring a targeted person. it gave you joy, you wanted to feed on souls that deserved nothing but death to come. you sucked in life of your victims, craving more and more as if it was like food and you were always hungry.

your boss set you out to raid an abandoned apartment to where homed a filthy rich man who unfortunately died due to a heart attack. he kept many important documents that your boss wanted and tonight, thats where you were headed.

you were clothed in a black skin-tight long sleeved top and short skirt which allowed you to hide your dagger, with a pistol on your waistline. when the time calls for it, you were going to be the one to kill whoever saw you and got in your way.

you had not noticed the figure which hid in the shadows watching your every move. as you rummaged through the drawers, you heard something drop. you spun around, gripping onto your gun as you pointed to the person standing in front of you.

" marcus? "

" hey, i was just dropping by- "

" you arent supposed to be here, you know. " you advanced towards him, watching him stumble backwards.

" well, neither should you. why dont you put the gun down, honey? " earning a glare from you, you made a move, linking your leg under his making him fall on his back.

" oh, i remember this. " as you stood above him, he mumbled.

" ignoring your favorite person i see.. its okay.. i bet the memories follow you around dont they. " you dont hesitate but kick his side making him groan.

" leave this place, act like we never even crossed paths. " you sigh, walking away from him.

" dont you miss me? "

" no i dont. and i will not. "

" but seeing you stalk me says otherwise.. how you constantly follow me wherever i go.. i suppose i am grateful that you are looking out for me. " marcus pouted.

you could not accept how right he had been. you were so in love with marcus that you knew itd be difficult to start a life without him. but you could. for all these years before meeting him shows how you could live without him. but why cant you do the same knowing what you two have been through. how could you when the only thing that occupied your mind was him. how he often thought of your life first and put his own life on the line to save you. how could you ever want to leave someone like him. it was now your turn to look after him when he did everything to protect you. even if as strangers, you knew that you still wanted to be on his wavelength.

" look, i know we left on terms we didn't agree on due to our statuses, but you can't blame me to not.. look for you. " it felt like you pulled a nerve when you confessed the last part.

" but you did. "

" i had to okay! what would you do if you are being given a choice, to get your lover killed.. or have your own blood throw you away like youre some meat, even having them turn their back against you? i knew i was being selfish okay? i.. i just cant imagine having you die.. not when i know i could have done something. or me dying. so im sorry if i was being selfish, it was either you dying, or me. and you know what i would have picked. " you were now going on a tangent, gun placed away in its holder, with you rummaging through the drawers. you grabbed every document you could find. marcus just looked at you.

" im sorry, okay? i just wanted you, you to be safe and well. " you could have just chosen to have your family killing you, but in the moment, you just had to. it was either him being dead because you wanted to survive. or him being alive at the cost of your freedom.

marcus never saw the side of your story, too busy grieving with his own. he watched you walk away as if he werent there. as if, he didnt mean anything to you anymore. but he knew, he knew that you loved him enough to save him without even thinking.

a.n : m not very proud with this, dont know why. and to the person who requested this, thank you but sorry because i couldn't tag you, its not letting me. and so sorry for the long wait!

#imagines #oneshots #marcus lopez imagine #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez arguello #mattheo riddle #benjamin wadsworth #mattheoxreader #mattheo x you #answered

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alicent-vi-britannia · 1 year

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12 characters, 12 story arcs, 1 theme

A few days ago, I tried to synthesize in a single word the narrative arcs of the Code Geass characters (at least, the ones I know they have) with the intention of extracting the theme of each one. I will briefly explain my conclusions. Or, put another way, what each theme means for each character. I'll leave Lelouch for last because he's the main character and his theme is supposed to be that of the series. We go from bottom to top.

Self-fidelity / Milly: "the girl who learned to be in touch with her own desires and chose to be true to herself to bring out her best version." I think the phrase explains it perfectly. Milly found happiness and she became more mature once she decided to stop serving her family's wishes and focus on herself and what she wanted to be and do.

Confidence / Ohgi: "the man who learned to trust himself to become the leader his organization and his country needed." Ohgi's arc is inspiring, if you take off your toxic fandom glasses and take his journey seriously. It is true that he made certain mistakes, but he always thought of the welfare of his people and his comrades. That was his main motivation and what led him to overcome his personal insecurities. I was going to make a comparison, but you guys won't like it and you'll attack me.

Happiness / Euphemia: "the girl who dreamed of a world in which all people were happy." This is the only arc that was cut short and did not come to fruition for reasons that I don't need to detail. Euphemia was a selfless princess without a purpose until she met her brother again and wanted to restore happiness to him, Nunnally and the rest of the Japanese.

Truth / Nunnally: "the girl who had to discover the truth to grow up to become the empress who could rebuild a new Britannia." She is literally blind and cannot see the world as it is, but as it should be (hence her idealism). She also can't see through her brother's and her friend's lies, until her determination and her circumstances push her to do so. It doesn't seem strange to me that the breaking of the seal coincides with the moment in which she learns the truth and decides to face it.

Justice / Nina: "the girl who had to seek justice for the murder of her beloved and her own acts and thus be a better person." Nina's arc is a revenge arc. Obviously. But the anime gives it a negative treatment, as Nina only gets worse with each new chapter. It's not until she understands all the destruction that her revenge can cause (in a literal sense) that she stops and reconsiders. The Zero Requiem gives Nina the opportunity to redeem herself and give justice to her beloved since the culprit pays for her crime. It's at this point that she begins to heal.

Honor / Jeremiah: "the man who managed to win back his honor after offering his loyalty to his enemy." The entire arc of Jeremiah revolved around honor. He believed that he had failed his empress and his prince, made a fool of himself on a live broadcast, was demoted and fell to the bottom. From there, he only lived to seek revenge. But then again, it wasn't the way. He only redeemed himself by putting himself at the service of a lord worthy of his loyalty: his enemy.

Humanity / Rolo: "the murder weapon that regained humanity from him through love." Another phrase that explains itself. Rolo had been used and manipulated his entire life as a tool. But when he created good memories and a sincere bond with Lelouch, he started to make decisions, think and feel like a human being.

Forgiveness / Shirley: "the girl who learned to forgive thanks to love." We find another arc of revenge. Like Nina, Jeremiah, Suzaku, and Lelouch, Shirley lost someone important to her, was overcome with grief and rage, and was tempted by revenge until she discovered that the killer was the man she loved. In the end, her noble feelings prevail and her love gives her the strength she needs to forgive.

Freedom / Kallen: "the girl who embraced her freedom became a hero who fought to liberate her country and the world." This is going to sound strange, but I barely realized that Kallen is who she is because she is free due to a fanfic that featured an anti-Kallen who was in many ways trapped. Kallen is a free spirit and performs as an autonomous individual. She chooses the friends she wants (be it Britannian or Japanese), she loves the man she wants, she champions the cause she wants, she has the value system she wants. However, there can be no freedom without equality, and Kallen and her people live in a society that promotes inequality. The freedom of some (the Britannians) cannot coerce that of others (the Japanese and even half-blood like her). So Kallen works to change the world to a place where everyone has full freedom. That's her motivation to grow up and become the hero her people and the world need.

Love / CC: "the girl who only until she received love from others was able to love herself." CC's arc ties directly to Lelouch's because they both express a nihilistic philosophy. In short, CC wishes to end herself and the world (through the Ragnarök Connection) because she considers her immortal existence to be meaningless and thus unimportant. Worse still, an immortal life implies eternal pain. Something she can't live with. But she wants to be loved, because all human beings cannot live without love. It is in the nature of the human being to give and receive love. Therefore, love will always prevail in the darkest moments. So, when Lelouch offers his affection to CC, she becomes more human and renews her will to live (see how her arc connects to Rolo's arc). Let's say that she transitions from a negative nihilism to an agathonism (that philosophy that it proposes that you have to enjoy life and help to live a pleasant life).

Peace / Suzaku: "the boy who was able to find peace of mind by creating a peaceful world." Without going any further, the lever that moves Suzaku throughout the series is "guilt". Suzaku feels guilty that he killed his father, he feels guilty that the Japanese are oppressed by the Britannians, he feels guilty that he failed Euphemia in his duty as a knight, he feels guilty that he can't protect everyone… Guilt, guilt, guilt. What is the opposite of guilt? We may all think of different things, but I'm leaving for peace because Suzaku didn't make peace with himself until he got the punishment from him and when did that happen? When he made sure to create a new world with Lelouch with the Zero Requiem, in which all his loved ones could live. No wars, no racism, no terrorism, no hate. In peace.

Will / Lelouch: "the boy who twisted the will of others found the value of the will of the human being and began to dream of tomorrow." It's very ironic. Lelouch's Geass is described as the power capable of bending the wills of others to the mercy of his own. As he progresses on his journey and interacts with other characters, he realizes that human beings actively seek happiness and persist despite adversity. They doesn't give up when they falls, but gets up and continues to fight. That is what it is to be human. Arthur Schopenhauer, in fact, said that the will was the essence of the human being. But I think that the approach of Lelouch and Code Geass goes more for nihilism in its most positive aspect. The one who proposes the destruction of everything to establish new values that allow the übermensch to live in freedom. "Emperor Charles searched for the past, you search for the present. But I search for the future. […]. Because no matter how much time passes, people will continue to search for happiness. People who struggle with sadness, those who seek the future. How everyone keeps wishing for happiness. Human nature is the reason I chose Geass and wearing a mask." This is the key to human survival. This is the meaning of life and what this series wants to teach you.

If you start to examine each of the arcs, you will see that they are all connected in one way or another (after all, they are concepts that appeal to the human condition). And, if you reflect carefully, you'll realize that the arcs of our two main heroes (Lelouch and Suzaku) correlate with the extremist views of Charles and Schneizel respectively (this was something I was planning to address in a discussion on CG antagonistic figures).

I hope you have learned something or found something interesting in this post. If you liked it, don't forget to support me with a comment and/or a reaction. I would really appreciate it as that will help the algorithm.

PS: Don't ask me to come up with an exhaustive analysis of the philosophies raised in this series. Although it may not seem like it, I have a hard time handling philosophy (I don't mind going overboard like I did here).

#kallen kozuki #kallen stadtfeld #code geass: lelouch of the rebellion #lelouch lamperouge #code geass #kallen #lelouch #suzaku kururugi #lelouch vi britannia #code geass: hangyaku no lelouch #euphemia li britannia #c.c. (code geass)#rolo lamperouge #ohgi kaname #shirley fenette #nunnally vi britannia #nunnally lamperouge #nina einstein #jeremiah gottwald

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highlordofkrypton · 3 months

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Re: romantic affection

@peoplesidk, I'm gonna reply to your question here instead of reblogging bc I prefer just having mutuals see. This got long, I'm so sorry, you don't have to read the whole things.

I don't mind expanding on my second point, I'm not sure if it's relatable because it's 100% my personal issues that I am working through slowly but surely. I just hope that if anyone sees this (since it's public, and esp if they're not my mutuals!), they have the empathy to understand that it's not a debate, it's personal, if you know what I mean. BUT if it does help someone, then this is why I'm reblogging!!

tw: trauma dump? kind of?

So, I was raised in an environment that I didn't even know was considered "abusive" and or "neglectful" until much later in life when I found out I was depressed and sought help at school w/ their free therapy. Also, I still don't think it was that abusive or neglectful, some of it was just two people doing the best they can with the tools they had in an unfamiliar place.

Context:

I have no siblings, I am the eldest child born in a 'first world country' to the 'eldest child' of my mother's family (and my father was the first of his family to come here as well). Both of them achieved amazing things in helping their numerous siblings get a better life, etc. That said, not only was I parentified (bc they did not speak the main language here well enough to understand any official documents) as a child, but I was held to a standard that I needed to lead the cohort, achieve more and do it alone.

My parents raised me from a young age telling me 'you are alone, you have no siblings, we will not be around to help you' in the sense that anything can happen. Plus, they were generally absent, working multiple jobs to make ends meet and I was... alone. Most of my childhood memories is being alone, tbh.

Add in the fact that I think my mother was bullied most of her life, and took that out on me (and still does, but eh, I can take care of myself I don't listen anymore). It kind of fucked up the way my brain works.

I have certain beliefs about myself that are very contradictory to the way I move in the world.

I'm a shitty and nasty person vs. many people in my life, and even people I cross on a day to day basis, think I'm genuinely wonderful, positive and appreciate having me around. I do go out of my way to be kind, but I don't feel kind.

I'm fat, ugly, disgusting vs. literally nobody I know thinks that, and many of my close friends think I'm super in shape, I'm just not leaned out (think curvy and strong)

I cannot trust anyone to take care of me vs. I'm allowed to pause and not have to manage everything -- I only learned this year that I can ask my girlfriends to plan brunch, it doesn't have to be me all the time.

I have not earned the right to be loved (and the counter of 'merit of love' is reset with each interaction) vs. I don't have to do anything to be worthy of affection, I can just ... exist?

On the same point, I do not know how to exist in a way that isn't fearing that anyone in my life can turn on me at any moment, so I have learned not to bother being vulnerable + being vulnerable makes me a burden. I am not accomplishing my task of exceeding, accomplishing, leading the way.

(Also, my first and last relationship was super traumatic, so I don't think love is real at this point.)

THAT SAID, sorry for the long trauma dump, there's a point, I swear. In the examples above, you'll see that my negative and toxic thoughts are invalidated by the wonderful people in my life. I'm not relying on them to 'fix me' or combat my toxic thought processes, but ever since I moved out (and I work from home), I'm alone more often than not. I don't want to always rely on my friends to have to reset my brain.

I am told I do fantastic things, but I do not believe it. I am programmed to exceed, or perform well enough in a lot of things I do, but I seek validation, so it comes off as me begging for attention when 'I already know I'm good'. So, I can't help but wonder if a part of me longing for anyone who is kind, and who's interests align with mine, is just me kind of... wanting that 'peace of mind' because someone does love me enough to want to spend a lot of time with me.

I just think it'd be really nice to feel like someone cares enough about me (as a person and not the things I can do for them), but I don't think that's romantic attraction at all. It's just one soul yearning not to be lonely? Do I even have the capacity anymore to let someone in like that? Who knows.

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, MIGHT DELETE THIS LATER I'M KIND OF EMBARASSED NOW

#personal #trauma dump

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weirdowithaquill · 11 months

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Traintober 2023: Day 27 - Record-Breaker

Mallard Broke the World Speed Record; It Broke Her:

4468 Mallard broke the world steam speed record in 1938, changing her life forever…

1938:

The quiet, almost timid engine sat in the works, listening to the workers. “You hear? That engine there is fastest in the world!” one said, pointing to the famous engine. Mallard blinked, amazed. She’d never been told if she’d actually broken the record – but to hear that she had, and to hear that it was major news! It was incredible.

There was no one better than her in that moment – she was the greatest!

“Ah, the engine of the hour!” cheered a voice. Mallard gazed down, spotting Sir Nigel Gresley himself walking over. Mallard gasped in amazement. The Chief Mechanical Engineer almost never visited his engines. “I came to congratulate you again, Mallard. I am proud of you – you are truly a credit to this railway. The poster child for what every Northeaster engine should strive for. Well done, and keep up the good work, Mallard.”

Mallard beamed, thanking her designer. Then, she turned to the gossiping workers. “Well? You heard him – I need to be back in service now! Hurry it up!”

1963:

“So, which of us is to be preserved?” asked Silver Link, staring down apprehensively at the members of the British Railways board. The men had come to decide on a Gresley Pacific to save from the scrapper’s torch.

“Who do you think?” snorted one of the men in the bowler hats. “We must choose the locomotive that achieved the greatest feat of a steam locomotive – 60022 Mallard, you are to be restored to your LNER looks and sent to the Museum of British Transport Museum. The rest of you… hope someone purchases you.”

Silver Link just stared in shock as several diesels sniggered in the background. “But I… but… She didn’t even make it back to London! I am the first! I reached 114—” “Stop speaking 60014, there is no reason for you to complain. You are already withdrawn, and shall be sent away once we have the time.” “Mallard… are you going to allow this?” asked Silver Link, eyes wide in horror. “Well, elder sister, some of us are just… more important than others. I represent our class, and I am the best at such an honour.” Silver Link went red in the face, but Mallard was already steaming away, blowing smoke at her elder sister.

Behind Silver Link, Flying Scotsman and Silver King shared a nervous look.

1975:

Flying Scotsman sat on the points outside the brand new York National Railway Museum, Green Arrow on one side and Gordon on the other. It was the first time that the four had seen each other – the fourth being an indignant Mallard sat opposite them.

“What do you mean, he’s worthy of being the same level as me?” sniffed Mallard. “He’s a mixed traffic engine!” “Green Arrow is an LNER engine, same as us,” reminded Scott crossly, facing down his cousin. “And there are only nine LNER Pacifics left, so your levels are completely worthless! We need to end this… this… this…” “Elitist garbage!” Gordon snapped. “We are long past this, cousin. What’s stopping you from accepting Green Arrow?” “Green Arrow is a simple mixed traffic engine,” hissed Mallard. “I am the greatest steam engine to have ever been built! No one has ever, or will ever, beat my record. There’s a reason that I am in this museum, and you are out slaving away to keep in steam.”

“Slaving away?!” Gordon let off steam furiously. Scott just clenched his jaw. “There’s no point arguing with her,” he sighed. “We’re better off just getting the rest on side.” The three steamed away, leaving Mallard to be pushed gently back into the grand museum by a timid diesel shunter.

None of the other engines in the museum spoke to her as she was shunted into place. Not Evening Star, not Aerolite, not Coppernob. They all just shot her dark glances.

1988:

Mallard sped along the line, feeling the wind rush past her face. “I forgot what this was like,” she huffed, finally arriving back at Doncaster after crossing the country to reach Scarborough and back. Several relatives of her crew from back when she’d broken the world record sat in her coaches – but they were inconsequential. After all, any crew could have gotten her up to her record-breaking speed.

“So, how was the run?” asked Gordon politely, sitting in the next platform over. Mallard ignored him. Gordon rolled his eyes. Green Arrow and Spencer shared a look.

“I’m impressed,” hummed Spencer. “Though I’ve heard that the East Germans have built a steam locomotive that’s almost able to match Mallard’s speed.” Mallard’s eye twitched. “No they haven’t!” she suddenly snarled, spooking several of the passengers on the platform. “I am the fastest. That’s my role! Don’t talk such drivel around me.”

Spencer sighed. As the only one of Mallard’s siblings willing to speak to her, and one of only four engines that had spoken to Mallard (he’d checked with Duchess of Hamilton) in the last ten years, he was uniquely able to see just how much his younger sister had changed.

Where Mallard had once been a healthy pale, her pallor had grown almost dangerously blue – while her formerly vibrant eyes had gone dull, with just a hint of something… unsettling in them. And yet her paintwork was spotless, her brass polished until it glistened in the sun, even after a full run with passengers.

“Are you alright?” asked Spencer quietly. Gordon and Green Arrow pretended not to hear. “I beg your pardon?!” roared Mallard, spooking yet more passengers. “Are you insinuating something?! That such a simple run would tire me out? I am the fastest steam engine in the world – I am more than competent, thank you.” “I just wanted to ch—” “Well don’t!” sneered Mallard. “I am fine.”

Spencer’s tentative frown turned downwards into a scowl, and the great silver engine hissed steam as he started away. Gordon watched him go, knowing deep in the pit of his boiler that the silver engine wouldn’t be back.

Silver King had never truly forgiven his younger sister for the way she’d spoken to Silver Link, even if his name had changed, as had his owners and his lifestyle.

2013:

Spencer, Bittern, Dominion of Canada, Dwight D Eisenhower, Union of South Africa, and Sir Nigel Gresley all stood in awkward silence. Their sister – Mallard – was being wheeled out of the museum for a photoshoot. “So… did you hear her last night?” asked Dwight quietly. “She was screaming at the shunting diesels again.” “I can’t believe they made me agree to his,” hissed Spencer. “I promised myself after 1988 – never again. And yet here I am. At least Scott gets to hide in the workshops.” “It cannot be that bad?” tried Woodcock – only the humans called her Dominion of Canada, “I mean… she has to have made some friends in there, right?” “Unlikely,” snorted Osprey – the humans had given her that name in the 1980s, and she much preferred it to ‘Union of South Africa’, “she spends most of her days just glaring at everyone. Last I heard, it’s a real treat for them when she gets brought out here to be gawked at.”

“Shh! Shh! She’s coming,” warned Bittern. The six all went silent as Mallard was dragged off the turntable and over to the line of engines.

“Ah, good, you all made it,” Mallard said haughtily. “It’s what I deserve, getting the humans to bring you all here to celebrate our class’s greatest achievement.” “What you—” Osprey cut off, indignant. Beyond her, Dwight gawked in shock while Spencer just rolled his eyes. The shunter braked the famous engine to a stop, jolting slightly.

“Did you just jolt me?” hissed Mallard, voice deathly quiet. The shunter gulped. “Don’t you dare!” snapped Spencer, speaking to the world-record holder for the first time in nearly thirty years. “You cannot deride these hard-working engines, I refuse to allow it!” “Oh? As if you are any better, Mr Private Engine,” sneered Mallard. “Silver King, the weird runt of the class who galivants off to that backwards island where our Crewe-rebuilt cousin lives.” “Gordon still pulls his express!” roared Spencer, letting off steam furiously. “Gordon treats everyone with respect! He’s a far better representative of our railway than you are – he’s out there, pulling passengers and acting as the ambassador for Gresley’s work. He holds a record for the longest-serving express engine in the world!”

“He has Midland parts,” snarled Mallard. “He’s a mongrel of parts, and I can’t stand him! I can’t stand him and his righteousness! This is my celebration, my record, my museum! He can talk when he has a proper record of his own. Let’s see him try and beat me – oh wait, didn’t he lose his dome last time he attempted that?”

None of the other A4s spoke, and the moment the photoshoot was over, all four in steam left, taking Dwight and Woodcock with them, leaving Mallard alone.

2016:

Flying Scotsman sat outside the NRM, steam wafting from his funnel. He was the last one left. Spencer had permanently relocated to Sodor after 2013, the other A4s steered clear of York Museum, Gordon had his own work, and Green Arrow had moved to Shildon. So, it was only him left to talk to her.

“Oh, it’s the money pit.” “Mallard. I came to say goodbye.” “Goodbye? Where are you going, Gresley Disgrace?” “I’m going to run mainline excursions,” Flying Scotsman replied evenly. “I’m not going to have to listen to you anymore when you scream abuse at the others or rant about the new PRR engine.” “Rant? Abuse? 4472, you don’t understand! I am Gresley’s pride and joy! I am the greatest – he would roll over in his grave if he saw you now. It’s my destiny to be the greatest – and everyone needs to accept that!” “Sir Nigel Gresley loved us all equally,” snapped Flying Scotsman. “And don’t you forget, any one of your class—”

“I did it!” roared Mallard. “Me! Not any of you! I am the world record breaker – I am the greatest steam engine of all time! You’re nothing compared to me! I am Sir Nigel’s triumph! I am the legacy of the Northeasters! Me! How dare you speed to me like that?! Learn your place!”

Flying Scotsman stared evenly back at the shrieking engine. “I have,” he said simply. “And it’s not here. The other engines can survive listening to your abuse, but I don’t have to. You’re nothing, Mallard. Not anymore. You sit here, on this siding, in this shed, and you cling to the past because that’s all you’ll ever have.”

Flying Scotsman puffed out of the shed, the wrecked screams of his cousin following him through the sliding shed doors. They transformed from howls of rage into a hail of screeching tears, as Mallard’s entire self-worth crashed down on her. The former icon of steam and speed finally lost it, all the rage and anger and simmering hatred growing inside her frames boiling over as she cursed her cousin.

Flying Scotsman couldn’t help but feel sorry for the engine – but all the same, she had spent decades wrecking their designer’s good name with her attitude. Her stardom had placed her up on a pedestal – one where the loneliness of fame had engulfed her.

Back to Master Post

#fanfiction writer #railway series #weirdowithaquill #thomas the tank engine #railways #traintober 2023 #traintober #ttte mallard #ttte flying scotsman #ttte green arrow #ttte spencer #ttte gordon #mental problems #Mallard loses her humanity

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just-a-strange-boy · 1 year

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boiling tempers

He might be an excellent neurosurgeon and your colleague, but Stephen Strange has the talent of winding you up like no other person can. After a surgery nearly goes wrong, you finally clash.

Pairing: Surgeon!Stephen Strange x Male Reader

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), hate sex, rough sex, unprotected, semi-public, mature language, one act of physical violence, mentions of surgery, Stephen being an asshole

A/N: we all feel some type of way about surgeon strange, don't we?

There was not a single human being that annoyed you more than Doctor Stephen fucking Strange.

Maybe it was his stupidly smug face, the cold look of superiority he tended to wear, trying to convince everyone that yeah, he was the best neurosurgeon and yeah, he did perform miracles on the human nervous system and no, your disease just simply wasn't good enough to be treated by him.

Maybe it was his arrogance, the way he put himself above the rest of the hospital staff, his dismissive stance on cases that were not challenging and therefore not deserving of being put on his surgical records.

Perhaps it was the way he talked down to other nurses and doctors alike, the way he never even spared as much as a glance or a tight-lipped “Hello” when crossing familiar faces in the hallway, going along his day like there was no other as good as Stephen Strange.

It irked you that you couldn't even deny him all of the fame and praise he earned, considering the fact that he was actually the best neurosurgeon the country could offer and he did damn good work.

That also unfortunately ensured him the top spot at the Metro General, which was the perfect opportunity to be an absolute dick to others and most turned a blind eye at his behavior.

The directors board of the hospital was most pleased to have Strange as their top neurosurgeon – any hospital would have – but that likely had to do with his abilities and definitely not with his personality. Doctors, students and nurses were in adoration of his surgical skills, marveling how Strange spoke about his work and how passionate he was about taking on cases (if worthy of his attention), and of course mooning over his looks.

Though did anyone of them possibly think he was a great person?

He was a great surgeon, sure. You could admit to that. You had quite a bit of respect for the work he did, unmatched in his capability and passion. An excellent, fast and hard working doctor, definitely admirable for his accomplishments, truly someone to look up to – for as long as he was in his scrubs in the OR, fingers busy with reattaching nerves or scrambling around in other people's brains.

The one and only Doctor Strange sure messed with your brain too.

If that weren't already enough... being around him was simply unavoidable.

Because the doctor was not only head neurosurgeon, making you – after years of studying, going through multiple exams and with a good eight years of work experience under your belt, now a perfectly capable surgical assistant – his stepping rug on every opportunity. No, he also happened to be a friend of Christine's.

How she had come to find someone like Strange even bearable in the first place was a huge mystery to you.

When you had first started at the Metro as a surgical assistant, working alongside resident doctors day by day, Christine had been one of your first good friends here and you quickly learned of her admittedly very silly crush on Stephen Strange.

You had heard more than enough about it. The way he had denied any of her advances straight away. How he had downright refusing to date her, up until the point that she had finally decided to put an end to trying and accepted they were never going to be anything besides friends.

Friendship seemed to work just fine for them. She still continued to spend time with him on the regular, plenty even, and you never really understood why. Her connection to the neurosurgeon was by all means strange – having asked times and times again what she might gain out of it, Christine never really went into detail why she was enduring the way he was. And god forbid, why she was even caring for him in this way.

Who knew what kind of secret Strange was hiding that made him actually likable in her eyes? Whatever it was, Christine kept it to herself. All she ever said was "He's not that bad when you get to know him."

You sure as hell didn't want to get to know him any more than you already did.

It was worse enough that you had to see him all the time.

He was in Christine's presence constantly – loitering around her office whenever they had a second of time to spare or interfering in lunch breaks and conversations you had meant to have with her. Of course, they were colleagues and their shared work was commendable, so in some way it seemed like Strange counted a lot on her opinion – whether it was going over cases together, creating a new surgical procedure, bothering her with preparation for speeches or events.

There was not a day you didn't run into him at the hospital either. As to be expected, you mostly saw him in the OR, where you had to assist him because it was your job, where you had to do his bidding in order to ensure a successful surgery. You never let your opinion of Strange influence the way you worked with him, passing tools from hand to hand. If anything, you've learned plenty about neurosurgery and the surgeon himself in your time assisting him.

But being constantly put on the same shifts with Strange also meant you saw a lot more of him during an entire work week than you would have wanted to. All you got to see of him outside the OR was not convincing you to seek out even more of him.

Plus, you were pretty sure that Stephen Strange had no fucking interest in getting to know you either. He knew you were friends with Christine, he seemed to hold no grudge against you personally, had never complained about the times you worked together at the operating table, but he was as indifferent as he always was with others. Constantly referring to you by your last name. Tending to ignore you whenever you came across each other in Christine's presence. Certainly not going out of his way to be particularly nice to you.

Sometimes you understood.

Neurosurgery was nothing for the faint of heart.

They all took hours and hours in the OR sometimes, remaining up on their feet and concentrated for a really long time. Surgeries were challenging, nerve-wrecking, tiring. Emergencies were most stressful. Of course, everything had to be in place for the head surgeon right in time, everyone needed to be prepared for complications at the worst times, everyone needed to stay focused and ready for the surgeon's requirements.

That was the job you had signed up for and you didn't require Doctor Strange to use a kind tone in the OR. You didn't mind that he scoffed at his staff occasionally or that he wasn't thanking you for doing the basic assistant work.

What you minded was that Strange sometimes used others as a personal punching bag when something wasn't going right, making sure to point out everyone's mistakes, except his own of course.

And this had almost gone terribly wrong.

Though it was neither your teams nor the doctor's fault that the scans had failed to show the true expense of the tumor of your most recent patient, it was a certain someone's fault for wanting to make the impossible possible.

The entire surgical team had advised Stephen Strange not to do it, to not even try to touch that tumor after opening the patient up, but he had been so convinced of his surgical skills that he tried it anyways, wanting to please his own god complex like he just loved to do.

Only a couple of minutes later, though working with a calm and steady hand as usual, he had to calmly admit to his personal mistake and stopped whatever he had planned in his genius mind when he noticed he had underestimated that tumor, having unfortunately triggered some hemorrhage that disabled him to keep on operating. Instead of a resection, he now had to opt for clipping the bleeding, which was a difficult and stressful change of action for the lot of them – not impossible, but looking at the great schemes of things preventable, had he listened.

The team had barely managed to stabilize the patient's condition after he had done his best to fix the mistake.

You could tell that Strange was in a sour mood, his inflated ego having taken quite the damage after realizing that playing god didn't work out for him so well sometimes and needing to admit his personal failure, while he was closing the patient up again, tumor remaining in place.

Even so, you thought he should count himself lucky and were thoroughly relieved that him acting out had not taken this man's life. But you bit your tongue, not wanting to drop a negative comment about what had happened to the surgeon himself, who was already tense and on edge from his failed attempt.

Instead you had decided to say something nice, whatever had made you get this idea.

"I've never seen such a massive tumor. It would have taken hours of preparation to even ensure a partial resection. Let alone a miracle to get rid of it entirely", you so casually mentioned to the doctor as you were getting changed side by side like so often, the only two remaining in the locker room.

You were hardly ever chatty around him, neither was he with you. And yeah, you were very aware he could get nasty in one of his moods, so perhaps opening your mouth to him now wasn't a smart decision. However, you were a fairly decent person, his colleague, showing sympathy when it was due, and you were under the impression that he could use a kind word.

Stephen Strange was arrogant and a downright asshole sometimes, but only human – and like any other person he had made a mistake, a lapse of judgment. While it shouldn't have happened in the OR or almost cost a person's life, there was no way of turning time back to prevent it. He had owned up to it by admitting his defeat and would carry the possible consequences.

"It was the right decision to stop. A good decision. You did what you could. Going on would have been too big of a risk and I'm glad you managed to clip it entirely."

Strange grumbled a little, seemingly ignoring your comment at first and wordlessly slipping out of his scrubs to reveal a sight you knew all too well for getting undressed in the same room quite regularly.

And dear lord, the sight of him only.

You were too defeated after the chaos in the OR to keep yourself from looking. Wasn't it annoying how good he looked too? As much as you hated his smug face, he was a painfully attractive man. Taking good care of himself and his body, certainly fitting in the occasional work-out between shifts. What he lacked in personality, decency for one, this body made up.

Judging by looks alone, couldn't let your gaze wander too often or obvious, the man was likely sporting a big dick too – and to say the least, Strange might not have been very desirable when it came to character, but you were certain he would be a good fuck.

"Bleeding was horrid, yeah, but as I said... a partial resection still should have been possible. But for that I would need a team that backs me up when it gets critical and doesn't retreat when things seem a little more challenging", the surgeon eventually spoke, “Didn't help that everyone was so stressed out all of the sudden, threw me a little off guard.”

As soon as he had opened his mouth, every positive impression or thought you had ever harvested for him seemed to instantly leave the room, the building, the city and Earth itself. His enormous ego was once again infuriating you.

The audacity alone to claim what he had just said made you see red.

Everyone on your surgical team was used to Strange, he was used to all of you. You worked together well, hand in hand, especially when things were tough!

It wasn't any of your jobs to kiss his ass because it suited him better, and that very well included giving him counterpoints in the OR, in order to prevent him from pushing past the limits. Which he had done. Which would have gone wrong hadn't you all been there to assist him in undoing the mistake.

And yet he had just said that, convinced of his god-like ability, accusing your team was at fault, denying that he was fallible like any other human being.

While you had really meant to be nice to him and not to scratch his already vulnerable ego any further, that was one word too much.

Stephen Strange had the talent of winding you up like no one else could.

"With all respect, doctor, you can count yourself lucky that this man is still alive and didn't end up in the morgue like he almost did", you eventually snapped and it sure must have looked ridiculous: you in your underwear, furious with rage, significantly smaller than Strange himself, as you faced him.

No smug look on his face anymore, but a suddenly darkened expression, jaw tensing, his facial muscles twitching in annoyance, Strange went from zero to one-hundred real quick too.

"Watch your mouth", he snarled, sharply addressing you with your last name like he always did, though not looking any less ridiculous in his underwear. He stepped towards you with a somewhat threatening intention, obviously wanting to impose.

Strange was a broad man, healthy, strong, could have easily overpowered you. You noticed that his whole body had gone rigid with tension, fists clenched, muscles visibly tense, and on any other day you might have gladly allowed yourself to admire the sight, but not today.

You both kept your stances.

"Yeah, or what?", you spoke through gritted teeth.

"I'm warning you here", Strange replied, the air between the two of you intense and heavy with both your frustrations. Any more tension and the air might have cracked under the pressure. "Don't push it, boy. Only because you're Christine's friend doesn't mean I won't get you into serious trouble with the board."

"Threatening me now, doctor? Oh, you must really think you're so untouchable, don't you?", you snarled right back at him, almost butting heads together, so close to one another like never before, only a sliver away from actually touching.

"I'm just saying it how it is. You're a huge asshole, never able to look past your own arrogance, and you'd know how much people actually despised you if you looked left and right sometimes."

"And you're an insolent and incompetent brat. This behavior is entirely unprofessional", Strange spewed, anger and frustration glowing in his eyes, written all over his face, "and I will make sure you're going to regret this."

"You're not any better, Strange", you spoke with sheer despise and must have looked just as frustrated, facing him like this, not backing down, absolutely enraged by his stupid threats and the simple overestimation of his own person.

Brows furrowed, nostrils blowing furiously, so up in each others personal space that you felt his warm, heavy breath on him, standing there in nothing but your underwear, bodies tense with every single second and then... all hell broke loose.

Strange took another step forward, grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you backwards into the lockers, with a little more force than you had initially expected. The sudden impact made you groan in pain, your back colliding with the cold metal doors, as the other man now held you wedged between them and him.

Your heart leaped in your chest, your breath hitched for a moment. Because you hadn't expected this form of aggressiveness from him, the sheer dominance, getting so physical when it could get him in serious trouble to assault someone in such a way, even as a doctor. Especially as a doctor.

But facing him like this, it wasn't fear that surged through your body. No, definitely not fear. It turned you on.

"Fuck you", you just said, trying to push back and shove him away, slamming the flats of your palms against his pecs. Though when you noticed that you had no way of escaping, Strange's hot and tense body keeping you trapped, him being so much stronger than you were, your brain simply short-circuited.

Instead of struggling against him further, you leaned towards him and clashed your mouths together in a whim, immediately thinking to yourself that whatever you were doing right was really foolish.

You would have expected anything from this unpredictable man, being shoved to the side, being called slurs, perhaps even being truly physically hurt after doing something so ridiculously stupid – but all the doctor did, while seemingly surprised by the action, was pressing his mouth right back onto yours, almost hungrily, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

Strange was responding to your attempt of a kiss, the both of you pouring all of your sheer anger into it. Teeth clashing and biting, tongues plundering each others mouths, he kept you pressed up against the locker with all of his body, his hands holding you in place, nudging his thigh between your legs which definitely added onto your undeniable arousal.

"You're terrible and I hate you", you groaned against his lips once gasping for air, though wasting no time to pull him in close again, hand sliding into the doctor's hair as you tugged hard on it, the other finding his upper back, fingers digging into his shoulders to a point where you knew it was likely going to hurt him.

You were hoping it would leave stinging marks for him to remember this.

"Feeling's mutual", Strange hissed into the kiss, thigh pressing further into your growing hardness, holding onto your waist with a firm grip, fingers digging into your skin so tightly that you almost hoped they would bruise you too.

"Look at you, like a little slut, getting all hard and desperate when someone treats you like deserve it", he continued on, the low gravel of his voice sending shivers up your spine, the bite of his harsh words even more so sparking your arousal.

"Yeah, as if you're not into it", you replied immediately, knowing that Strange was hard too, feeling him pressed up against your leg. Something within you screamed to be taken apart right here, like this, wanted the doctor to use you, to fuck the frustration right out of the both of you. You had no idea why that sounded like such a good idea.

"Why not be a man of your word and put me in my place?", you asked quietly, suggestively, kissing him hard once again, catching his lip between your teeth and biting down, earning yourself a scowl.

When Strange pulled away, you could make out his dark pupils dilating in those icy blue eyes, a gaze full of lust, his lips parted with heavy breaths seeping through, red and swollen.

He didn't reply anything and let go for a moment to grab you hard by the shoulders again, urging you to turn around. You could hardly stop yourself from being shoved into the lockers again, bracing yourself up against them with your hands, back arched, displaying your ass to him quite nicely.

“Remember you asked for it”, he growled then, seeming amenable to give you what you what, pushing his hips into yours. Now you could definitely feel that Strange was hard, pressing up against the curve of your ass.

You reveled in the feeling for a moment, fearing that it might be gone in the blink of an eye, but something told you he wasn't going to let it go now. He wouldn't back down, not after this amount of disrespect.

As it happened to be, without a single precaution, he nearly ripped your underwear off you, leaving you entirely bare and in anticipation of whatever he was going to do to next. You were shuddering, the cold of the room brushing over your body, goosebumps forming, but remained standing steady even as the doctor's hands returned to you.

Skilled surgeons hands, kneading your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, as fingers delved between them, brushing over your needy hole. Even just the touch made your breath hitch, feeling his fingertips circling the sensitive ring of muscles, and god, your cock was already stirring in interest, leaking a pathetic trickle of precum.

How was he turning you on this much?

"Do you have any idea how much you rile me up all the fucking time? How often you make me want to bend you over the operating table? How much I want to teach you a lesson whenever you're getting snappy in the OR? You're such a damn brat, it makes me wanna do all kinds of things to you", Strange mewled into your ear, kissing the spot behind it, moving down to suck hard on your neck again, bruising you, biting you, “I bet you'll look so pretty on my cock. Gonna fuck you raw, would you like that?”

"You owe it to me, Strange", you moaned, surprised by his words. Him? Riled up by you? Wanting to bend him over? Wanting to discipline him? For how long had he been having these fantasies?

He didn't leave you much time to go on wondering. You heard the man spit then, feeling a trickle of wetness being spread around your hole, a single digit easing into you, accompanied by the slight burn of the stretch, though not unfamiliar.

Would have been better with preparation, but this would do. You would let him fuck you like this.

"I knew you were gonna be a real cockslut", the doctor mused but seemed to be a man of his word, spreading more of his spit over your hole, working you open with precise movements, like one would expect from someone with such skilled hands. Two fingers in, you couldn't have cared any less if anyone found the two of you like this. You were gone and beyond as those fingers found your sweet spot, their intrusion leaving a nice burning stretch, then brushing over your prostate, making your cock jolt in response, a moan slipping passed your lips.

"Gosh, can't you just fuck me already?", you begged, thighs already shaking from the stimulation, especially the way he seemed so keen on prodding your prostate all over again.

"Oh, we're getting there and I'll make sure you'll remember it well", Strange growled at you, pulling his fingers back, "Gonna make you feel me all night, all day, all week. Every time you get in here, every time you see me in the OR, you'll think of this.”

It sounded more like a promise than a threat though. You just knew Strange would fuck you unforgettably well. It wouldn't matter how rough or angry it would be, and you craved to feel it all week, even just as a reminder that you had fucked Stephen Strange, out of all people.

"Stop talking so much", you bit back, feeling the tip of the doctor's cock gently nudging your hole, smearing more spit and his own precum all over you, before finally pushing in, the intrusion of his impressive length making you gasp.

The long-awaited stretch of a cock inside of you was sudden and damn, Strange was filling you out good, to the point where you certainly needed a moment to adjust to all his girth and might, finding it hard to breathe.

Balling your hands into fists, you took deep breaths through your nose, but pressed back into him, making sure to allow all of the man in. “G-god, knew you'd have a huge cock”, you huffed out, eyes squeezed shut, knowing that it would do nothing but stroke his ego. However you just didn't care about the size of it anymore now that he was fully sheathed inside of you, leaving you rather focused on the size of something else.

"Fuck, you're damn tight", the doctor groaned, stilling inside of you for a moment, noticing that you needed the time to get used to him, which was in some way almost kind. His large, precise hands came to rest on your waist, holding onto you, absentmindedly stroking the skin there.

"Already regretting this?", he mocked, fingers squeezing into the softness of your flesh, but didn't start moving yet.

"No", you huffed, unashamed to add the next comment as you deemed yourself more than ready, "And you should start moving before I get bored."

That certainly stirred up a fire in Strange again, though perhaps less out of anger and frustration, now shrouded with desire and lust and the challenge to make you feel all of him. He began moving painstakingly slow at first, pulling slightly back before thrusting into you without holding back, and then settled quickly on fucking you hard and deep, filling you out so perfectly, hitting that sweet spot within you immediately.

The two of you were soon enough in a complete trance, Strange's eager and hard thrusts, his cock stretching you out all over again, both of you moaning and groaning and panting heavily, your legs almost giving in as the rapid strokes sent a shudder through your entire body, the metal of the locker doors rattling under the sheer force of your coupling.

You couldn't focus on anything else than the waves of pleasure all through your body, the thought that you liked being used by Strange like this, how glad you were the anger and the frustration was fucked right out of you by the exact man who had riled you up like that in the first place. A man you riled up just as much, who had apparently waited to put you into your place for a long time now.

The grip on your hips was bruising, Strange's mouth must have left marks all over your neck, your shoulders, your upper back, as he kept on latching onto you everywhere he could reach – and you would most certainly feel the sting of being stretched out so wonderfully whenever you would try to sit down the next few days. You found it harder and harder to keep yourself upright, still bracing yourself against the lockers.

As you could feel your orgasm beginning to hit hard, crawling up your spine, white hot flashes etching in your brain, you quickly reached down to grab your painfully hard cock, tugging on yourself as the hard thrusts into you sent you over the edge, your hole clenching around the man's length, eager to keep him in place, trapping him inside of you.

Strange made an ungodly noise as you tightened around him, slumping forwards against your back and coming to his own undoing. With his head coming to rest on shoulder, cock buried within you to the hilt, he spilled himself inside of you, holding onto you as both your orgasms completely ruled over you.

It took you a while to come down from that high. The rush of passion and adrenaline had long passed, your head found some clearance again.

You sighed loudly, breathing hard, sweaty and definitely in need of a shower now. There was a distinctive ache in your body and you grew awfully aware he was still inside of you.

Strange's arm came around your middle and he simply held onto you instead of drawing away. You almost found yourself a little puzzled when the man nuzzled your neck, placing an almost gentle kiss on it, and even more so by the way you weren't fully disliking his embrace.

He asked you an odd question then too. You hadn't expected it. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah... yeah, I think I am", you answered after a moment of silence, only now noticing the mess you had made, your own cum having spurted onto one of the lockers, on the floor, covering your hand too. Even though you were sticky and kinda sore, it made you grin. He'd sure fucked you good.

You were definitely going to feel the burn for days to come and would not forget about your interaction any time soon. You sure hoped that neither would he.

"Are you?", you asked him, not even knowing why you were trying to respond with the same kindness. It didn't match the situation at all, didn't match the smell of sex hanging in the air, didn't match the fact you had literally just fucked your frustration out of each other, the argument entirely dissolved – for Lord's sake, you could feel his cum trickling down your thighs, once Strange eased his hold and pulled out of you, and yet you were chatting each other up so casually.

"More than", the doctor admitted, "I think we settled that argument at least."

You wriggled out of his grip, turning around in his arms, facing the man that now seemed a lot more relaxed and calm, not angry or upset anymore in the slightest, though just as messy and disheveled as yourself.

The tension had just been whiffed away.

"We did", you mused, oddly talkative after just getting your brain fucked out.

You pondered whether to say something else, whether to just shut up and go your ways, whether to confront him about what had just happened and what it would mean for the two of you.

He was still looking at you, questioning, perhaps even waiting for you to add something. So after a slight pause, you did.

"What happened in the OR today was unfortunate. What you said made me angry and sure, you're an arrogant asshole and I don't agree with the things you do sometimes. I get annoyed by you on the regular, but I didn't actually mean it when I said that I hate you. If anything, I'm kind of surprised by you.”

“Why, didn't think I'd dare to fuck you?”, Strange chuckled, probably unsure what you were meaning to tell him – you didn't quite know yourself – and no longer looked at you in disapproval, but like he was in good spirits. There was this cockiness to him again, something to usually disliked, though in the afterglow it more so wanted to make you smile.

“Well yeah”, you shrugged, “Didn't think you'd be interested.”

“I was pissed off after fucking up and then of course it had to be you approaching me. So as I've said... I've been feeling some type of way about you before. I shouldn't have said you're incompetent, because you're not. I find you irritating and annoying. You are a brat, no doubt, and I've wanted to fuck that out of you for a long time. Didn't think you'd let me, especially not that way. It was kinda hot", he replied nonchalantly, bending down to pick up both your underwear from the ground, handing yours over.

“So you're saying you're actually into me?”

“I said I wanted to put you in your place and fuck you, which I just did. But maybe, just maybe, Christine is right after all and I should get to know you."

"Funny. She told me the same thing", you responded, opening your locker to grab a towel and the bag with toiletries, thinking that you would now definitely have to hit the showers, needing to get rid of all your traces, at least the once you could get rid of. Your skin was stinging was his marks and you sure were sore. But damn, hadn't that been just worth it.

It was weird to suddenly see Strange in such a different light.

"Well, considering she might have a point, we cleared the air, we both know the sex will be good... maybe we could go for a coffee sometime?", he asked, picking his own stuff from the locker.

"Asking me on a date now, Doctor Strange?", you wondered, looking him over in all his naked glory and musing whether it would really be a good idea to get to know him beyond the OR, not quite knowing where the change of heart came from all of the sudden. Couldn't have just been the sex, could it?

You had always felt some type of way about Stephen Strange. It usually hadn't been very positive and it didn't help you faced a bunch of conflicting feelings now, not knowing what to make of this.

He would certainly make for another good fuck, you had no doubts about that, and it would be worth it, if going for a coffee together meant getting to fuck him in a proper bed some day. Strange would certainly still make you mad and put you off plenty of times, especially with his attitude and all, but as had been proven today, it definitely ensured some hot sex.

Could it be more than just sex one day? Maybe it was a bit too early to think about that.

"Would it be that weird if I was? I already fucked you, so I might as well go on a coffee date with you", Strange shrugged, looking you over in return, eyes raking over you like he could have devoured you another time right there, right then.

"Look at you being all chivalrous. Do you even know my first name, doctor?", you couldn't repress the cheeky question.

"Don't be silly, I can read a name tag. Though I think, brat suits you just fine", the older man stated, giving you a wink and a cocky smile, before throwing the towel over his shoulder and heading off to the bathroom.

Stephen Strange sure was a man to behold.

#k writes #stephen strange x male reader #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange #doctor strange #surgeon strange #surgeon stephen strange #marvel fanfiction #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut #x male reader

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timomoe · 4 months

Note

For the shipping game: DenEst and SweEst <33

We're off to an amazing start

SweEst

SweEst is one of my favorite ships in the entire fandom. For one, there is lots of historical backing to it - Sweden was once the empire that ruled over Livonia (some of modern day Latvia and all of modern day Estonia) and compared to the other powers that controlled the area, Sweden was pretty relaxed when it came to governing. Sweden was, generally, quite kind to Estonians, advocated for opportunities to have the population educated, and even allowed them to keep their folk beliefs instead of forcing them to convert to Christianity. In the grand scheme of things, a lot of Estonians don't consider Sweden's rule colonization, and it's a generally agreed upon fact that the Swedish Era in Estonia was the good era. Later, Swedes also supported Estonia's bid for independence and around 1000 (I believe) volunteers ditched their country to go fight Russians in Estonia in the 1910s. They remain good friends to this day, diplomatically, too.

In terms of hetalia, I view their relationship as one that's VERY slow to form. Initially, Sweden was uninterested in befriending Estonia, only communicating the fact he was the better option in comparison to the Teutons, Russia, and Denmark. He wanted Eduard to understand that so that he could govern him without hiccups. If Estonia knew he was the best choice, then maybe he wouldn't be as violently resistant to him as he was to everyone else.

I imagine things started to change about 2/3 of the way through the swedish era, when Sweden began to pursue a genuine friendship with Eduard. That was unheard-of (in my hcs) by that point, as Sweden's only real mission was to subdue those his crown told him to, and Estonia would have been one of them. He placed value and worth on nations based on their power, and, of course, being controlled by someone his entire life, Eduard had very little of it. But what he lacked in strength, he made up for in sheer tenacity and power of will, which eventually swooned Sweden, which Sweden wasn't expecting at all. The fact that someone had been able to "seduce" (seduce used lightly here, Eduard was being an asshole and Bernhard just went "omg so dreamy" bc he's AN IDIOT) him and not the other way around really caught him off guard.

He didn't pursue anything, of course. He was too busy, and Eduard was practically a feral cat. Sure, he'd come home to eat, but get too close and he'd run; touch him, and you'll probably contract rabies from the bite. Not only that, but very soon after Ber decided he wanted to kiss this man and stare longingly into his eyes... He lost him. To Russia. And immediately was barred from seeing him. I imagine Russia wouldn't have wanted Sweden, whose rule was very obviously preferred to his by Estonians, to speak to him, lest he inspire a rebellion. The only way they maintained contact was bc Finland decided he cared more about Eduard and his mental health than he did about his hate for Sweden, and he helped smuggle in letters that Sweden wrote. He knew it kept Estonia and Latvia's spirits up.

They probably wouldn't have gotten together until the modern day, if at all. It's honestly equally likely to me that ber is just too afraid to lose Eduard's friendship and keep quiet about his feelings as it is that he took a chance and started a relationship with him.

Either way, Eduard is just COMPLETELY caught off guard. "Me?? ME?? Why!" He doesn't get it. Ber is far more conventionally attractive than Eduard is, plus is tall, with the strong silent schtick that makes people lose it, AND he's a sweet and attentive father who loves and gets along with kids. He's got all these interesting hobbies and interests, and has amazing life stories to tell. Eduard really wouldn't think he's worthy of attention from someone like ber, and that ber is WAY out of his league. It would confuse him, but he obviously wouldn't be opposed to the idea of a relationship with him. He likes ber! He's been friends with the guy since the 16-ish00s. He knows him well. He's seen just how much he's grown as a person. He knows him, his motivations, his interests, and he knows enough to know that he would probably do well in a relationship with him. He's very analytical about the whole thing, because he doesn't want to leap into something just for it to go badly and ruin one of his closest friendships.

I think the relationship would go pretty slowly because of this. For Eduard it's a matter of experimentation and for Ber, it's a matter of keeping Eduard comfortable. He does not wanna step on his toes.

I have a confession to make. I've never offered this ship more than 2 of my brain cells until now. Mostly bc, hot take, I'm not super into Denmark. He's fine! He's silly and cute in an annoying big brother kind of way

DenEst

But this ship almost veers toward "you can see what A likes about B, but not so much what B likes about A."

In my mind, Denmark is immature. Well meaning, yes, but immature. The way I tend to characterize Eduard, is as a very mature person. He had to grow up way too fast because he was constantly being picked on, targeted, and fought over by nations two, three, four times his size. Denmark being one of them, albeit much further back than Sweden and other nations. It was Denmark that Estonia led an uprising against, with the full intention to just kill anyone they caught (St. George's Night Uprising). Denmark wasn't kind to Eduard when he owned his territory and subjugated him. BUT Denmark was stupid and young at this point, fresh out of the Viking era, where violence was how problems were solved. It could easily be said that Denmark learned a lot from his time ruling over Livonia, and it is most definitely true that he chilled out a LOT as time went on.

Denmark can be an idiot. He's impulsive. He's a little absent-minded, and can be over-excitable. But one thing he is not, is malicious. In fact, he's likely the most outwardly kind and affectionate out of the Nordics, excluding Finland. He is soft-hearted and kind, and he cares very much about the people around him.

Some of the ideas a friend (@hetaestoniahq) has shared with me revolve around Eduard in the 90s. If you're unaware, Estonia struggled a lot in the 90s. Being released from a horrific dictatorship that repeatedly tried to demolish your people's spirit in the WORST ways will do that to.

According to his hcs, Denmark was one of the nations who regularly kept contact with, checked on, and spent time with Eduard after he was granted independence. This stems from the fact that Denmark was one of the 1st countries to re-establish diplomatic ties with Estonia, if not the first. Denmark also sent volunteers to aid Estonia in their war of independence, like Sweden and Finland did.

He tried to make sure that Eduard was staying healthy, building healthy habits, and taking care of himself. Obviously this would have been a struggle, but Denmark would have done his absolute best, because Estonia was a friend of his, and he never lets his friends down, if ever he can help it.

And honestly, it would have just gone from there. It's a very soft and wholesome ship, I totally understand why all 5 people who ship this like it as much as they do.

#hetalia #aph estonia #aph sweden #hws estonia #hws denmark #aph denmark

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