#who's William incarnated

[cheshiregrinfu]

Don't mind me just posting some bullshit

(Reincarnation au willry, btw)

January 25th, 2045

I think I spotted William digging through the dumpster behind my shop

At least, I assume it's him. Those silver eyes are hard to miss, even if one's been covered in bandages. I don't think he heard me approaching from the right side, and he panicked when he realized that I was there.

I'm not sure if he recognized me or if I just scared him off because I snuck up on him. He left behind whatever food he must have deemed edible when he ran.

February 7th, 2045

I spotted him again, this time picking through the garbage of the next door Italian restaurant. I put to use the knowledge of his bad ear and blindness to sneak up on him again, but before he could run I shoved a bag full of food and drinks into his arms.

I'm fairly certain it is William. He seems to recognize me, and his expressions are pretty much one to one of his past self. He fell onto his ass this time, but managed out a thank you before he ran off like some scared wild animal. I can't imagine what he's been through for him to need to dig through trash for food, or act like a feral cat.

Mostly, I can only hope that he shows up more often, and doesn't run away next time.

February 10th, 2045

He showed up right as I was closing down the shop, doused in gasoline and trying to hold blood in from a stab wound in his ribs. I managed to drag him home even though he insisted all he needed was a roll of bandages.

Apparently he's been homeless for a while and a handful of people tried lighting him on fire after stabbing him while he slept. I've already filed a police report, and I'm going to try and convince him to stay for a while. At the very least either until his stab wound heals, or they catch the people who attacked him, whichever one takes the longest.

He's fairly quiet and downtrodden, a far cry from his past self. I don't think he knows that I know who he is yet, considering his reluctance to give me his name, instead asking me to call him Talon.

He's unfairly cute in my clothes I let him borrow. Is this how he felt, when he was taller than me?

February 11th, 2045

I woke up to him making us breakfast. Without the bandages over his right eye, he seems to have some vision in it, as he spotted me before I could sneak up on him. I tried reaching out to pat his hair and thank him, but he flinched away like he somehow expected me to hit him.

When I tried to talk to him about it over breakfast, he avoided the questions, and I stopped when he looked like he was about to cry. Whatever happened to him left more scars then just ones on his body, it seems. I told him he could stay and get some sleep while I worked at the corner store. Even in this life, he seems to have ever present shadows under his eyes, like he's not sleeping enough.

When I came back home in the evening, I found him in the bathroom, crying infront of the toilet. I'm not entirely sure what happened while I was gone, but I did use this opportunity to wash this mornings breakfast out of his hair for him even as he apologized endlessly. It took everything in me to not scoop him into my arms and endlessly comfort him.

I made us dinner tonight, and tried to fill the awkward silence with stories of my shift at the shop. I managed to get a weak smile and a chuckle out of him once. It seems his sense of humor is mostly the same, even after all this time.

I offered him some wine I'd been saving for a special occasion, and while it took him some convincing that it was okay that I was going to share it with him, he revealed he was 22, and could, in fact, drink. Somehow, I didn't really expect him to be older. He must have been reborn not long after the fazbear frights fire, if my math is correct.

The rest of the night went easier, with alcohol soothing away any anxiety, even if just for a little bit. Gods above, I haven't heard William genuinely laugh in Decades. It's his laugh, still explosive and insane sounding as ever, even as he tries to hide his face and cover his mouth. I guess it's good he's not looking at me while he's laughing. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to hide the looks I give him when I hear him laugh. I managed to drag him into my bed for tonight, using our combined inebriation as a convenient excuse.

February 12, 2045

Today started out rough, for both of us. I was woken up by William trying to hide the fact he was crying. Unfortunately for him, I'm a light sleeper in this lifetime, and him sitting up like a rocket woke both of us up. I think the nightmare he had experienced must have made him forget where and when he was. I got something out of him when I managed to gather him up into a hug. Something about me leaving him behind and it hurting- I think he must have been reliving the Springtraps... And me shutting him into that room to rot.

I'll admit, in retrospect, that my decision then was not a smart one. I know why I did it, and I can't change it now, but it hurts hearing him cry even as I comfort him- no wonder he doesn't get much sleep, if he's been reliving that hell as often as I'm guessing.

I managed to get him to let me change the bandages around his ribs, as he'd reopened it partially when he'd woken up and tried to push himself out of my arms. He numbly agreed to come along with me to my store after breakfast when I offered to bring him with. I don't think he wanted to be alone after this morning, and honestly I don't blame him.

Over the day he mostly dozed nearby me, behind the counter, though I could tell he felt stressed and miserable. I have no idea what's going on in his head, but he was acting like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin and into the ground. I kept him distracted towards the later half of my shift by handing him a handful of broken childrens toys that had come damaged in their boxes. I forgot about how his eyes would light up whenever he had a project he could throw himself into. I'll have to get more shipments of damaged electronics, I think. Hopefully I could convince him to stay if he feels needed...

[doctorkinktraveller]

R.I.P William Russell [99 years old]

One of the first humans to step foot in the TARDIS. Returned in 2022 for Power of the Doctor with Jodie Whittaker

Gone but never forgotten.

[nashvillethotchicken]

I have started reading the vampire lestat and unfortunately he is my lil meow meow dumb bitch

[variousqueerthings]

Which companions would you personally say are True Alien fuckers and which ones forget the doctor isn't human?

Okay, so taking out audio plays and the like, and with a caveat that I haven't seen everything (yet) and so some companions I am stipulating based on clips and descriptions and the like + my memory is. trying.

Disclaimer that this is about whose attraction to the Doctor encapsulates the doctor's inherent Alien-ness, such as gender fluidity, total change of appearance (on occasion), near immortality, alien physiology, and other variety of alien oddness.

this is about humans only.

See scores at the bottom. Forgive the mess, I'm operating on memory here.

(EDIT: keeping the original martha thoughts, but I was Wrong, she's an alienfucker, Martha I'm sorry I slandered you)

First Doctor companions: well to begin with, none of them. they're all presented to the incredibly no-sex-allowed show, including the most elderly the Doctor has ever appeared, in the true crotchety old-man sense (although... see the Twelfth Doctor). On top of that the dynamic was mostly paternal and companions tended to leave to do their own thing. Most Alien Fucker however I would give to Steven Taylor (who has an unfair advantage, being from the future, which is also a trend we see over again). Anyone who either travelled only with the First Doctor (Ian, Barbara, Vicki, Dodo) or witnessed the regeneration into Second (Polly, Ben) for various reasons simply would not. To be fair, the Doctor here radiates a "do not sexualise" aura. still. I think the real test was right here, and they all failed to make the grade

Second Doctor companions: notably the appearance of the Brigadier! I think he takes the crown of Most Alien Fucker of Second, although I would say, while Zoe is a bit young to be actively an Alien Fucker, she for sure is shaping up to be one in the future. Jamie and Victoria I personally think are a solid No generally

Third Doctor companions: Truthfully I'd give this one to the Brigadier as well. But wait, you say, what about Sarah-Jane Smith! Ah, but here I create a ripple perhaps by claiming that she wasn't an Alien Fucker, so much as a person who regularly engaged with the Doctor on a human level, despite the Doctor not being human. it's interesting, because she's someone so actively doing alien investigations, but I never think she was seduced in the wink wink nudge nudge sense to the alien-ness of it all. I think her betrayal with the Doctor is very related to the Doctor's non-humanness taking her by surprise (she and Rose have a fair bit in common). Jo is also not an Alien Fucker. Jo wanted a family I believe, in the human traditional conventional sense. Liz could go either way, but if an Alien Fucker, then that alien is not the Doctor. in some ways I think Liz is a bit ace overall, but in spirit youknow.

Fourth Doctor companions: note here we get some mildly non-human companions, but still humanish, which makes it hard. I've decided "born on earth" as a stipulation, no matter what time that is. However that takes out Leela, Adric, and Nyssa, and none of the more born-on-earth humans are Alien Fuckers. notably the Fourth Doctor is considered one of the more obviously eccentric Doctors, so does that have anything to do with it? who knows, I'm making up the rules as I go along

Fifth Doctor companions: similarly Vislor does not meet the stipulations, otherwise I would have awarded him the gold star. RIP to how Peri was treated generally, but she may have an undercurrent of Alien Fucking, because (ironically) she's not so into the Doctor really, but comes to understand (Sixth Doctor) more over time + she hooked up with a warrior king offscreen as part of her leaving so. She's not a timelord Alien Fucker though, I'd say

Sixth Doctor companions: Includes Peri, but we already talked about her, so: Mel. Is she an Alien Fucker? Wee-eell, yes-and-no. Yes, she witnesses a regeneration and is kinda chill about it, no because I wouldn't say she was into the Doctor in either regeneration. So could this be the Doctor specifically? Would it have been different if it had been Eight or Ten? I haven't watched far enough yet to know what her deal with Glitz is, but clearly there's some Alien Fucking genes there

Seventh Doctor companions: which leaves us in the classic series with Ace!!!! Who is absolutely a lesbian, and not at all giving off the vibes of someone mooning after the Doctor specifically. However would this lesbianism include some gender bending fluidity? I cannot say yet, I've not reached that far. My gut says that Ace is firmly into humans, but we shall see!

Eighth Doctor companion: Not an Alien Fucker. Grace was into Paul McGann and the beautiful early-eighth doctor hair, and that is more than fair, however, shallow in terms of Alien Fucking

Ninth/Tenth Doctor companions: okay, I'm gonna have the possibly unpopular opinion that Rose is not an Alien Fucker. there are many different aliens in her story, and she remains firmly into "good looking blokes," while continuously being re-reminded that the Doctor is very much not a human guy and is surprised by this each time. also I like the tragedy that in some ways, Rose may be more into the TenToo clone than the Doctor because she knows that TenToo is stable (in terms of mortality, in terms of never changing appearance, in terms of never having to put anything before Rose). She might be persuaded to be into a bit of gender-fluidity though, we never do find that out

also in short order: neither Adam nor Mickey are Alien Fuckers. Jack, obviously, is an Alien Fucker, but he's also cheating according to my stipulations, that 51st century Boe-born rapscallion!

Martha, likewise, not an Alien Fucker. Her attraction to the Doctor is initially based on awe and the fact that he Needs her, and then when she realises she can do better and deserves better, she rightfully steps the fuck out of his direct orbit (although am not a fan of her ending up with Mickey -- very pair the spares. she deserves that other doctor guy). I think Martha should have been allowed to snog Thirteen though, personally

Donna: not an Alien Fucker and quite chill about that. she's admiring though (not of the Doctor lol), but she knows what she likes.

Eleventh Doctor companions: The Ponds aren't Alien Fuckers, sorry Amy and Rory. River, sure, but I have some mixed opinions on just how human she counts as, considering the mess that is her backstory.

Twelfth Doctor companions: I know Clara met Eleven first, but she's solidly a Twelve companion as far as I'm concerned, and you know. She's got actual Alien Fucker energy. I'd need to rewatch these seasons to form more of an opinion beyond this, because I cannot remember much, but this opinion is solid and unchangeable.

Bill is... hmmmm.... canonically a lesbian of course, and as far as I can remember (again, we're approaching a rewatch, but haven't got this far) solidly hitting on earth girls, but then there's that ending... Does she know that timelords can regenerate? does it matter when she's become, well... Matter. Actually the more I think about it, the more I'd say yes she is an Alien Fucker, but also she's in a somekindof relationship with Heather-Matter, which was also the point at which she became a bonafide Alien Fucker, while also transcending the bounds of humanity, so in and of herself has become the Non-human... it's complicated

I cannot speak to Thirteen, because I've only seen the first season (so far) but from what I've seen of that, they're not Alien Fuckers. sorry guys. let me know if I'm wrong though

SO IN TERMS OF ACTUAL ALIEN FUCKERS INCLUDING AND/OR SPECIFICALLY THE DOCTOR: 2 (Brigadier, Clara)

ALIEN FUCKER POTENTIAL: 2 (Steven, Zoe)

IT'S COMPLICATED BECAUSE OF WHAT IS HUMANITY: 1 (River Song) (arguably Adric, Jack, Nyssa, Tegan, Leela, Vislor, Bill... a few others)

THEY'D FUCK OTHER ALIENS BUT NOT THE DOCTOR/A TIMELORD: 5 (Polly, Zoe, Liz, Peri, Mel, Bill)

REGULARLY FORGETS THE DOCTOR ISN'T HUMAN: 17 (Ben, Yaz, Graham, Ryan, Rose, Martha, Sarah-Jane, Jo, Amy, Rory, Grace, Ian, Barbara, Vicki, Dodo, Victoria, Jamie)

DOESN'T UUUSUALLY FORGET THE DOCTOR ISN'T HUMAN BUT STILL WOULDN'T FUCK THEM: 4 (Liz, Ace, Mickey, Donna)

UNIMPORTANT TO THIS DISCUSSION: 1 (Adam)

HON MENTION: 1 (Jackie Tyler asking if "there's anything else he's got two of")

FORGOT TO INCLUDE: the UNIT people and a handful of single-episode companions oh well

All in All: it's tough to be a timelord huh.

[thelesbianthespianposts]

NOOOO RORY!! (And also Amy ig)

[witchofthesouls]

Bayverse squandered their "Earth is Unicron" subplot and so many characters.

It would have been so perfect to delve into the really freaky and disturbing lore that humans created across the world...

And found out it was real.

Not just King Arthur and Merlin, but the faint remains of Atlantis, the echoes of mad laughter from a revelry in ancient forests, the fox messengers of Inari traveling everywhere, strange and terrible shapes twisting beneath the ocean waves or off the coast of the Diego Garcia base, ghost towns filled with decrepit homes and buildings with the odd sense between hope and despair as they wait, national statues or ancient sculptures that are actually once living people and beings but transformed into marble and rock and sleeping until they feel the brush of the Matrix or the Allspark, wide and empty stretches of road with no one else and GPS glitches along with time (minutes that go on forever, every so slowly, painfully) as they pass the same canyon formation or homemade sign over and over and over-

I live and love the Other aus too much to give them up, so-

Give me a Mikaela Banes who has become a Dragon herself with the blessings by a Primordial (the Great Shadow, Carnage Incarnate, Unmaker's Mirror) that devoured worlds and remade them as she's the one that offered herself as tribute upon their altar.

Give me a Sam Witwicky who has seen the universe in all of its terrible and wicked glory, beastly and divine in the transcendent music that the Allspark weaves in its own song in the grand orchestra -he has seen, he has heard, and he cannot help but remember snippets beneath the breeze that rustles the trees and the soft patter of rain upon his bedroom window and haunts all his dreams and every waking moment because, despite his vocal adamance, he can never return to normalcy.

Give me Judy Taylor that tries to outrun the monsters in her family's shadows and the ghosts that howl for vengeance and protection in her childhood home by eloping with a Ron Witwicky with a similar madness in his own bloodline.

Give me a William Lennox whose luck is too uncanny, too fortuitous, especially in hindsight, as he feels the very signs his own grandmother would foretell as she hangs trinkets in the branches and leaves sweets on the porch.

("Long ago, Man made peace with Magic.")

[thestarlightforge]

Because this “Agatha All Along” thought almost made me burst into tears in the middle of minding my own business, washing dishes and listening to Lorna Wu’s cut of “Ballad,” I’m inflicting it on all of you—

If I can’t hold you…

Remember what I told you…

Now that the sigil is lifted (and the rest of whatever WandaVision memories may have muddled in his mind likely restored), what if this is one of the final episodes’ titles?

This—Billy reciting/remembering this, and casting his first Wish spell in the MCU at the end of the Road to get his family back—intercut with the last (or some similarly sweet) conversation between Agatha, Rio and Nicky?

Imagine: They’re all standing there, after the last Trial, and nobody’s hurt, they beat it—but nothing’s happening. They start getting mad at each other, screaming about WandaVision & Salem & the Darkhold & Sharon & the sacrifices & Alice… He’s sorting through the lyrics, the different lyrics, and it hits him.

Billy: “If I can’t hold you, remember what I told you… It’s the only way we survive.”

Agatha: Lorna was a pop rocker. That’s not even in the Ballad. And you don’t remember shit, do you? William? Billy?

Billy: “You know, a family is forever.”

Agatha turns, curious.

Billy: “We could never truly leave each other, even if we tried.”

Tears well in Billy’s eyes, remembering how Wanda turned to Tommy—how knowing his lack of mind-based powers, she wouldn’t leave until he had understood.

Billy: “You know that, right?”

Rio looks on solemnly, having witnessed this moment in waiting to take the twins to the beyond.

Billy: “Boys?”

Billy barely chokes it out.

Billy: “Thanks for choosing me to be your mom.”

Rio and Agatha’s eyes meet. And they’re young women, playing with Nicky in Salem, 400 years ago.

Billy: “Goodnight, Tommy.”

A stream of flashes: Wanda and Vision and Billy and Tommy—Agatha and Rio and Nicky.

Billy: “Goodnight, Billy.”

Wanda and Vision hugging the boys, Billy and Tommy playing—Agatha watching while Rio tosses Nicky in the air, both of them cackling like mad. Wanda and Vision kissing. Rio and Agatha kissing. All of them happy. Together.

Back to the present. No dry eyes left in the room. Billy’s power warbles as the Road unlocks.

Billy: I’m not missing power, or magic, or memories. I miss them. They are what I’m missing. And I wish… I could have them back.

Maybe he thinks it doesn’t work. Maybe they don’t all appear. But there’s a crackling burst of blue magic, and the Road is done. Because the actual most famous Witch to walk the Road—perhaps who it was created by, even—is not Agatha Harkness, even if she is its only living survivor. And perhaps Agatha even knows this—met this Witch 400+ years ago. The real person the Road is for is the ancient, ancestral, legendary Scarlet Witch. Not Wanda Maximoff—but an earlier incarnation. So of course, it is her most modern incarnation’s words—Wanda’s last to her sons, including this warrior boy who has survived all seven Trials—that unlocks the road’s ending.

Then, we cut away in an end credit sequence to each of Billy’s missing, wished people who we don’t see here—Wanda and Tommy resurrecting across the world, and White Vision fully unlocking Hex Vision’s memories (where previously he may have just had everything through “Infinity War”).

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 36

The Eighth Doctor has referred to Time Lord society as "bitchy" before. (Audio: Seasons of Fear)

Maximelos and the Three Ogrons was a children's fairy tale on Gallifrey that the First Doctor heard as a child before being initiated into the Academy. (Short Story: Nothing O'Clock)

Peri once turned the song "Wild Boys" up in order to drown out the Sixth Doctor's opera singing. (Short Story: A Star is Reborn)

Susan failed her maths exam because she had forgotten that Britain hadn't moved to the metric system yet (despite the fact that the First Doctor had tried to get her to remember at least that). (Short story: Extracts from the Doctor’s 500 Year Diary)

The Doctor had a bear when he was young but had to release it when it started eating all the furniture. (Audio: Cuddlesome)

Jo and Cliff Jones frequently work with David Attenborough (Short Story: Greyhound)

The Tenth Doctor and Rose Tyler got caught in 1914 Belgium in a battle between Germans and an alien Warfreekz. Rose stopped the war by singing "Angels" by Robbie Williams, which made all sides think she was the Angel of Death come to take their dead to Heaven. (Comic: Warfreekz!)

When the Fifth Doctor broke his spine and was subsequently paralyzed, he thought he would regenerate. (Audio: Devil in the Mist)

The Toymaker once turned the Eighth Doctor into a doll. (Audio: Solitaire)

Chancellor Delox was a lecturer at the Academy who expelled the Doctor from her class after discovering he had not returned to his House for Otherstide. (Novel: Divided Loyalties)

The Second Doctor remembered being something of an acrobat in his First body before age had taken its toll. (Novel: Heart of TARDIS)

The Doctor's TARDIS has an entire snowy mountain range inside of it. (Audio: The Settling)

The console room of the Monk’s TARDIS has a comfy chair covered in comic books in it. (Audio: The Black Hole)

The Tenth Doctor recovered from his regeneration in part because of tea but also in part because he took energy from his Third incarnation, who was nearby. (Short story: The Christmas Inversion)

The Sixth Doctor continued to try to fix the TARDIS chameleon circuit after Attack of the Cybermen. This caused the outer shell to shift to all sorts of odd forms, such as Nelson's column, a giant strawberry, a train engine, a clock, a Christmas tree, a giant Radio Times, and more. (Comic: Quick Change)

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[femalethink]

Pornography is regularly used in ways that have nothing to do with sexual explicitness. Rather, pornography is commonly understood as a form of propaganda, a representational style linked with defamation and desensitization, if not destruction. Patricia J. Williams, who thinks legally, critically, and gracefully about race, sex, and injustice, calls pornography a "habit of thinking," and one that informs all manner of abusive and exploitative attitudes and relationships. Pornography, as I am using the term, is just that, a worldview, a way of thinking and acting that sexualizes and genders domination and submission, from the bedroom to the war room, making domination masculine (even when a woman plays that role) and submission feminine (even when a man plays that role), and making both the essence of sex. By wedding sexuality to inequality, pornography conditions women and men to have a substantial investment in maintaining the oppressive status quo—again, from interpersonal relationships to international politics.

Pornography kills off, and then substitutes itself for, the erotic—the life force, the earthy and ethereal force of growth, fruitfulness, exuberance, ecstasy, connectedness, and integrity. Pornography severs eroticism from intimacy and empathy and bonds it to voyeurism and objectification (of the self and of another). It incarnates pleasure in acts of hatred. It would have all of us believe, even those of us getting the "fuzzy end of the lollypop" (Sugar/Marilyn Monroe's lament in Some Like It Hot, Billy Wilder, 1959), that without a certain measure of power and powerlessness, danger, fear, pain, possession, shame, distance, and violence there wouldn't be any "sex" at all. Of course, the simultaneously pornographic, monotonous, and erotophobic culture tends to make that true. Variously damaged, alienated, and desensitized, pornography can become what we need in order to feel at all.

Some applaud pornography because it allows access to sexual imagery and language and easily offends offensive religious morality. Yet pornography is no real alternative to systemic sex-negative morality; rather it is an intrinsic part of it. Pornography and mainstream morality both stem from and continually reinforce a worldview that first makes a complex of body/low/sex/dirty/deviant/female/devil and then severs these from mind/high/spirit/pure/normal/male/god. For both, sex itself is the core taboo. Moralism systematically upholds the taboo and pornography systematically violates it. In the complex that evolves from this absurdity, taboo violation itself becomes erotically charged. Evil becomes seductive and the good mostly boring. Without patriarchal moralism's misogyny, homophobia, demand for sexual ignorance, and sin-sex-shame equation, pornography as we know it would not exist. And, together, the two work to maintain the sex and gender status quo.

—Jane Caputi, "Goddesses and Monsters: Women, Myth, Power, and Popular Culture."

[the-raven-lady]

Learning that one of the effects of microdoses of Astartes blood is that it prolongs a regular human’s life is very interesting. It makes me think about Astartes specifically giving a human some of his blood so that they’ll live longer.

An Astartes, an Apothecarion specifically because they can better monitor the effects of their blood and administer it to a regular human, giving small doses of blood to their unaware human companion. It can range from some blood slipped into their everyday coffee or administered by needle with the excuse of it being a booster shot, all of it done in the pursuit of granting you a longer life. He has a particular fondness for you so why shouldn’t you live longer, there is a whole bunch of worthless nobles exceeding their natural lifespan with rejuvenate treatment, so why not his favourite human? Your time together shouldn’t be limited by your frail biology, not when there are means to work around that inconvenient reality. He wants your company, he wants you by his side, he want to see your smile and not have to contemplate just how much longer he‘ll be able to see such a sight. Sure, giving you his blood causes you to become quite ill, but it’ll pass with time, he’s just guaranteeing that you and him will have all the more time to be with one another.

I saved this because I wanted to write for it, and I think I went a little crazy because this was just supposed to be a short drabble.

[Masterlist] [My Ko-Fi]

Pairing: White Scar Apothecary (Sarei Fa) x serf!Reader [gn]

Warnings: Pregnancy mention and eating, nothing much really

Word Count: 1085

Tag List: @egrets-not-regrets @sleepyfan-blog @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @bispecsual 

Working as an Apothecarion’s human hand came with many benefits: a comfortable bed, high-quality food, and constant companionship amongst them. It was a stark difference from your time as a serf in the Imperial Palace. The Astartes that came and went rarely paid you any heed then, but now they were downright respectful of your place. Akoghlanlar's ‘assistant’. 

You’ve learned that the White Scars had a civility to their barbarism that legions like the Space Wolves lacked. Their savagery in battle didn’t translate over into downtime. They knew when to be ferocious, and ferocious they could certainly be— razing the battlefield like incarnates of lightning itself— but outside of the hunt they were shockingly tranquil. Importance was placed upon calm discipline.

The Akoghlanlar had found you during one of the Great Khan’s visits to Terra, shuttling resources to and from the Swordstorm. You had entered his domain, and each time you returned with more supplies, you felt his eyes on you. Always watching, ever observant. 

The ‘adoption’ (if you could call it that) into the White Scars had come as a surprise, and you’re still not even sure if it had actually happened in an official capacity, or if the son of the Khan had simply decided right then and there that you were his. The Apothecary, who you would come to know as Sarei, simply handed you a cloth bag containing a uniform too large for you. Confused, you were notified that you would be staying aboard the ship. The event still baffles you to this day.

Compared to Terra, working for the Fifth was far more eventful. The tribal nature of the White Scars made them wary of your presence on the ship as you traveled around, but for the most part, everyone respected your place beside the Akoghlanlar. Sensing your apprehension, Sarei made a point to deliver your meals to you himself. The act was out of the ordinary, but you weren’t the type to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Over time, you morphed from what felt like a pet into someone you could actually call useful. You were far too small to help Sarei in most of his endeavors, especially repairing his colossal Dreadnought brothers, so the majority of your tasks revolved around cleaning, maintaining stock, and accounting for resources used. It was only when Sarei was asked by one of his brothers to look over his personal serf that you had truly found your niche. 

It was outside of Sarei’s duties as Akoghlanlar to aid baselines, but you had recognized the symptoms of a pregnancy immediately. Nausea, breast tenderness, cravings, fatigue, and most damning, lack of menstruation. The sons of the Khan had been surprised when you spoke it aloud. The poor serf was not.

You had wisely chosen not to ask any questions.

Since, you’ve become the unofficial go-to for the marines aboard the ship when their personal serfs had any troubles. Sarei sourced books on baselines from other medicare, and you started the thirty year journey that landed you where you are.

“I feel like I’ve been seeing you here forever,” an older serf mentioned one day. You had been patching up her arm after she received a sprain from overuse, warning her to let the astartes do the heavy lifting. 

“I feel like I’ve been here forever,” you comment, massaging the swollen forearm of your client, “I’ll be turning fifty soon.”

She gave you a smile, but there was something about it that irked you. “You look really good for fifty.” 

You would have accepted the compliment for what it was, if not for the tense furrow in her brow or flicker of doubt on her face. You play it off with a practiced shrug. After placing her arm into a sling, you sit back and let your patient go, politely waving her off.

Her words didn’t sit right with you, putting a voice to something you had long been wondering yourself, and for days you mulled them over. You caught yourself staring at your reflection from time to time. At most you would place yourself as mid-thirties, but even that had felt like a stretch. Other serfs your age had been slowing down, joints aching and skin less elastic. They began to struggle with their day to day tasks. 

But you remained spritely. 

Today feels no different, standing before a vanity wash station. You run a finger down the skin of your cheek, feeling the texture of the pores and light dusting of hair.  The face in the mirror is nearly unblemished by time. Fifty years, and yet you’ve barely even begun to develop crow’s feet. You shake your head. You really shouldn’t be so concerned with your seemingly superb genetics; you should be grateful you have them in the first place.

Sarei returns to the bay with your lunch, frowning when he sees you staring at yourself again. “Despite your efforts, you will never catch it blinking,” he rumbles, placing the tray of food down onto your human-sized table. 

You huff a laugh and turn to look at him. Thirty years haven’t changed the Akoghlanlar at all; astartes aged gracefully. The lightning bolt scar on his face is the same deep shade of bronze, brown eyes as sharp as ever. The same wrinkles that had been there since the day he found you are present, never deepening. The only change you can find in him is that his tamed beard has grown longer. 

A growl interrupts your thoughts, and you place a hand over your stomach, walking over to the table to sit and eat. The smell of the meat called to you. Sarei watches thoughtfully, wrapping his palm in gauze.

“Did something happen on your way over?” you inquire, gesturing to his hand as you take the first bite. 

Sarei shakes his head. “An old wound that refuses to remain closed.”

You nod and focus your attention on your meal, making sure to get as much gravy as you possibly can on each bite of the tender roast. It helped to mask the iron tang of the gamey meat.

The Akoghlanlar smiles at you fondly, then turns away to look over the accounts of the legion’s gene stock. He cleans off his sidearm as he does so, removing the traces of his blood from the blade. It pleased him to see his assistant looking so well. 

He would tell you why some day, but for now he was simply glad you wouldn’t perish like the last.

[spookydestinycat]

Final results for peoples votes for their favourite doctor from Doctor Who

19. Jo Martin 0.4%

18. John Hurt 0.5%

17. William Hartnell 1.4%

16. Rowan Atkinson 1.7%

15. Peter Cushing 2%

14. Richard E. Grant 2.4%

13. Ncuti Gatwa 3.9%

12. David Tennant Fourteenth Incarnation 5%

11. Colin Baker 6.1%

10. Jodie Whittaker 6.8%

9. Matt Smith 8%

8. Sylvestor McCoy 8.5%

7. Jon Pertwee 9.2%

6. Peter Davison 11.6%

5. Christopher Eccleston 14.8%

4. Patrick Troughton and Paul McGann 15.4%

3. Tom Baker 19.1%

2. David Tennant Tenth Incarnation 22.9%

Peter Capaldi 26.5%

So like I said my fave doctor wins! Can't believe it? Glad to see Ncuti fareing better in the final results next to his fellow doctors. Still it's strange to see the one who started it all Hartnell so low?

[dfwbwfbbwfbwf]

I think I figured out part of why I don't like the Doriath characters.

I think part of it is because of how much Jirt emphasizes how great they are and why we should like them, but rarely actually SHOWS it. I decided to do a thing on the main few Doriath characters who are the center of much controversy. I listed out various things. If I thought the thing is a positive, I gave it a positive mark. If I thought the thing is a negative, I gave it a negative mark. I also kind of put my opinion of the character at the top, so it's a bit of a spoiler.

Thingollo - very dislike

Only Incarnate to marry an angel. Good for him, I guess, but the Ainur aren't always quality judges of character. +0

Focused on his kingdom's security. +1

Tried to help Denethor out. +1

He welcomed the Laiquendi, but not the Noldor. I get keeping Doriath safe is a priority, but there's no indication that he invited any of the Noldor princes to Doriath until he learned the Arafinwions were his kin. Wasn't Finwë his supposed to be a very good friend? This was before he learned about Alqualondë, mind you. -1

Graciously granted the Noldor lands he didn't actually have any say over anymore, as he had stopped trying to protect them due to an inability TO protect them. +0

Acted like he had authority over the Noldor (Quenya ban) when there was no lord-vassal relationship between them. At least, he wasn't keeping his end of the bargain. -1

Demanding a Silmaril, a SILMARIL, which his "friend" Finwë had DIED for, was incredibly insensitive. He could have asked for something else to get Beren to run away or die, but, no. -1

Tried to use other people to kill a man. -1

Refused to give the Silmaril back to the Fëanárions, whose grandfather, his "friend", died for it. -1

Didn't listen to his wife. -.5

Refused to take part of an alliance that, ultimately, resulted in this destruction of Doriath. He had understandable reasons, though. -.25

Adopted a cursed child. He's also part of the reason that child is cursed, but he's not directly responsible either. +1

Let refugees in, even Noldor. Granted, all the Noldor came from Nargothrond, his nephew's kingdom. Still, better than nothing. +1

Didn't listen to his wife again. -.5

Ultimately destroyed his kingdom through his actions, but not directly. -.25

Total: -2.5

---

Melian - Like

Not as much of a Mary Sue as Lúthien. Melian is more like Cassandra. +1

Has a brain cell. +1

The worst thing she did, abandon Doriath, could be because she actually died. -.5

Total: 1.5

---

Lúthien - Dislike

Exhibits many Mary Sue traits - impossibly beautiful, smart, clever, the best at dancing and singing, and all of her plans work, and she even manages to get the dog who stood by Celegorm through worse things to defect to her. While these aren't necessarily bad when done right, she doesn't really have a personality other than "FREEDOM!" (yes, you must imagine William Wallace) and "I really love this scruffy hobo dude". More than anything, she's BORING. -1

Disappeared to the farthest place away from Morgoth to chill with her family. Screw the rest of Beleriand. Sure I riled up Morgoth, but I don't have to deal with the consequences. -1

Total: -2

---

Dior Eluchíl -

Killed some guys when it wasn't self-defense. The Dwarves were fleeing, and Beren and Dior chased them. That is, technically, murder, even if the Dwarves started it. -1

Sacrificed his kingdom for a rock. -2

Total: -2

---

Eluréd and Elurín - like and pity

Died. +0

Are cute babies. +1

Total: 1

---

Elwing - dislike, but also pity

Traumatized. +1

Sacrificed her kingdom for a rock. -1

Left her children at the mercy of people she believed killed her brothers, knowing that if the Fëanárions didn't get them, Morgoth would. -1

Gave the rock to her husband. +.25

Is a bird. +0

Total: -.75

[doctorkinktraveller]

At one point, the Classic era producers wanted to remove Susan being the Doctor's granddaughter, and have her written as unrelated.

On seeing the edit, Carol Ann Ford immediately questioned it. She was told that the BBC did not want to make any explicit suggestions about the Doctor, and thus he could not have a granddaughter.

Ford laughed heartily, called the idea "ridiculous" and declared that if the fact wasn't restored, she would leave on the spot.

At this stage, there was also debate about having the TARDIS change shape, as it was supposed to. This plan was soon scrapped when it was found to be ludicrously expensive.

[pretty-little-whorror]

kinktober - public space

ash williams x reader

wc: 3190

a/n: for the four evil dead enjoyers on this site. i promise if i was less employed i would post daily for this like the lord intended.

tags: semi-public sex, fem reader, fingering, p in v sex, safe/protected sex, work sex, fucking your coworkers, ash williams, ash williams and his cheesy ass one liners, and his cheesy ass nicknames, that’s it maybe but i’m tired of looking at this, also not like 100% proofread, like 83%

Ash Williams had been put against his fair share of unpleasantries. Having to kill his sister, dismember his girlfriend, get sent back in time and go toe to toe against evil incarnate. Throughout all that, he still stands by that working retail can easily be just as bad - if not worse - than all that. Ash had been at S-Mart longer than he had ever intended and dealt with more customer bullshit than one could imagine. However, he did manage to enjoy his time there in his own Ash-y way while he was there, meaning knocking boots with any coworker that he could talk his way into the pants of.

With most it was a one and done situation. Most employees stay new before they eventually leave. To Ash, this was the perfect situation - left no time for awkward talking after he had gotten done what he needed. His most recent example had been with Jenny from Arts and Crafts. A red headed hardbody that had stayed at S-Mart maybe three months. As her last two weeks wrapped up, yours began.

The Arts and Crafts department was mostly women, so word about who exactly Ash Williams was got around to you quick. Most of the talk was about his serial womanizing, however a few strange rumours of beheadings and murder were weaved in and out during a handful of gossip sessions between you and your colleagues. You chalked them up to a bad game of telephone given how out of pocket they seemed.

Eventually, you had your first run-in with Ash, and it went as expected. You managed to keep a professional smile and move on after each encounter, however that was not without acknowledging that you couldn’t blame any of the other girls for falling for his routine. He was far from unattractive and his charming demeanor did nothing to repel you. Regardless, you were determined to hold your own.

Your resistance had come as a surprise to Ash, who believes he’s God’s gift to women. However he was never one to back down from a challenge. The harder the hunt the bigger the trophy. Months of passive aggressive flirting and innuendoed bickering had only made him more determined. He had used whatever brain he had to find different ways to push your buttons without an immediate trip to HR. It would usually result with you giving him a playful eye roll before you continued back to whatever you had been doing. Today was no different of an example, but as you found yourself pinned up against a wall in the stock room, whatever exactly had finally gotten you where he wanted had slipped your mind.

This close, Ash’s cheap aftershave was almost intoxicating compared to its normal warning of obnoxious behavior to come. As your tongues pushed against one another, you could taste remnants of the mint gum he had just spit out.

His left hand made quick work to take off the ill fitting uniform as his metal one held you up against the wall. Your fingers made quick work of his own blue work shirt, pushing the fabric off his shoulders, leaving him in a white undershirt.

“Someone’s a little anxious, huh?” He words teased into your ear as his calloused hand snaked its up your back to unclasp your bra.

“If that’s such a problem, I’m more than okay to stop” Your hands dropped from his shoulders as you spoke, looking up at him. He moved his hand back up and grabbed your chin with a chuckle.

“Oh baby, I’ve got you just where I want.” His hot breath tickled against the side of your neck. “I’d be an idiot to let you get away now.” He brought your face up to his with a rough kiss, his hand dropping from your face to finish discarding your bra. He pushed his tongue into your mouth with a groan as he fondled your breast. His thumb rolling gently over your hardened nipple. You sighed into his kiss as he continued to play with your tit. He broke the kiss to look down at your chest, a string of saliva still connecting your mouth the his.


“Fuck sugar, you’ve got the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.” He continued his ministrations as he used his other arm to raise you up, your legs now straddling his waist opposed to your hips. He quickly moved his face down to your chest, peppering nips over your other breast as his hand continued to roughly knead the other.

“Now we can’t let her sister have all the fun” He winked up at you before latching his mouth onto your nipple. You gasped at the action, the sensation of one hand rolling the hardened bud between his fingers and his mouth sucking and biting on the other causing your eyes to shut.

Ash reveled in your reaction, you could feel him chuckle against your skin as he continued. Your hand went to his head, fingers weaving through his black hair. He gave your tit one final, playful bite before his mouth went back to yours. His hand snaked down to your backside, giving your ass a quick squeeze before he set you down, his lips never leaving yours.

He made quick work of his belt, tossing it to the floor as he finished shrugging off his shirt. As soon as you heard the cloth hit the floor, his hands were on you again, discarding your pants into the growing pile of garments to the side of you. In a moment, he had you up again, straddling his waist. His mouth quickly found its way to your neck, nipping and sucking dark spots into your flesh. You sighed and lolled your head to the side, allowing him further access.

“Baby…” He whispered, his hot breath centimeters away from your ear. “Can you grab my wallet, hm?”

You giggled at the request and rolled your eyes. Understanding the request your arm snaked around to his back, snatching the wallet from his back pocket.

“Well forgive me for bothering princess,” he teased. “My hands are otherwise occupied”

“Hand” you corrected with a playful grin. In response, you felt his metal appendage pinch your ass. You gasped and slapped his arm as his mouth went back to your neck.

“That hurt, jackass!” You scolded as you felt his mouth curl into a smile against your skin.

“Well,” He raised his face back up to yours. He quickly closed the distance between you and brought your lips together. You felt his left hand sneak under the hem of your panties, slowly sneaking up to your core. “If that’s such a problem…”

You sighed as his fingers ghosted over your entrance, picking up your slick on his fingertips, at the same time, his thumb pressed against your swollen clit.

“…I’m more than okay to stop.” He pushed his index finger into your cunt as he repeated your earlier threat. You let out a breathy moan as he pushed his finger in to the knuckle.

“But I’m pretty sure you don’t want that” His voice was low in your ear. Your eyes shut as his middle finger joined the other.

“Fuck…” You murmured as his fingers worked to stretch you out.

“Shit, baby…” He breathed out as he began to curl his fingers against your walls, his thumb beginning to work small circles on your clit. “You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t ya”

You bit your lip and nodded, your breath getting caught in your throat. Ash chuckled and shook his head.

“I think I want you to say it, baby” His mouth returned to your neck as the pace of his fingers became rougher. You didn’t speak, groaning in response instead, partially annoyed but mostly too lost in the feeling of his fingers inside you to care. You felt him like up a third finger outside your entrance and you arched your back towards him out of instinct.

“You gotta say it first, sugar, gotta tell me whose got you all hot and bothered”

You whined and opened your eyes, pleading up at him. “You, Ash. You….please” you rutted yourself against his hand as you spoke. He looked down at you with lust blown eyes.

“Good girl,” He whispered into your ear as his pushed in a third digit. You moaned at the feeling, his fingers immediately working on curling against that one, perfect spot and working with the pressured movements of his thumb against your clit. You felt the familiar building pressure in your belly as his hand worked to bring you to your climax.

“Now, how about you finish fetching that love glove out, hm?” You sighed. Your shaky hand meeting your other that held his wallet. You looked down, fingering through cards and cash until you pulled out the golden foil. You quickly dropped the leather wallet to the ground to join the other discarded garments.

“Ash…” You let out a whine as he withdrew his fingers to grab the condom. You looked up at him and pouted. He chuckled, glowing in the fact he’s taken your bratty demeanor away and replaced it with desperate begging.

“Oh, just give me a minute, doll face.” He winked as he undid his fly, pulling his pants down enough to allow his hardened dick out of its confines. You were, well you didn’t want to say impressed, but surprised he had the anatomy to match his attitude. You must have been taking a moment too long to look as Ash whistled to get you attention.

“My eyes are up here, sugar pot.” You rolled your own as he went to get the condom out of its wrapper. Before he would tear the foil, you snatched it out of his hand. Deciding to make a show of it, you tore the gold wrapper with you teeth while another hand began to stroke his member. Rolling the leaking beads of precum down his shaft with feathered strokes. You pulled the condom from the wrapper entirely and slowly rolled it down his cock.

“Atta girl,” Ash’s head tilted back with a sigh, he once again brought your lips down to his for a sloppy kiss. You gave him a few more lazy strokes before he adjusted how he held you against the wall in order to line himself up with your entrance. You breathe out a sigh l as the fat bulge of his head finds your swollen, wet hole. Out of instinct, arch into him, desperate him to satisfy your clenching body.

His lips reunite with the side of neck with an amused chuckle. “You’re so needy, hm?” He teased between peppered kissed towards the crook of your neck, teasingly pushing himself against your entrance.

His metal hand gripped your hips firmly as he pushed you down onto his achingly hard cock. Your eyes slammed shut with a carnal moan as he fully sheathed himself inside of you.

“You stretch so good for me, baby” He groans as he revels in the feeling of your sex enveloping his, your soft walls like a perfect fitting glove. You roll your hips against his, drunk on the euphoria of him buried inside to the hilt.

“Fuck, Ash-“ Your head falls back, hitting the wall behind you with a thud. He drags his cock from inside you before coaxing himself back in. You whine, working your best to sink as far down as possible in tandem with his movements.

His pace starts sultry; fucking you deeply and purposefully, his thumb resting on top of your thigh as he brought you down on him until you could feel his pubes tickle against your lower belly.

Your hands found their place, one flush against his chest and the other grabbing into his shoulder; promising crescent shaped bruises to form in the following hours from where your nails dug into his flesh.

He adjusts his hold on your hips as he picks up his pace, bouncing you on his cock. “Can’t believe I can finally fuck you.” He purred in your ear, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. His left hand moves between you, his thumb dancing over your clit andhis fingers circling where he pushed into you, getting it coated with the cocktail of your wetness and his precum that dripped out of you.

His hand then raised to the underside of your chin; his thumb lifting your head as his fingers prodded against your languidly parted lips. You further opened your mouth, allowing for the gentle intrusion. Your tongue swirled around the digits as you looked up through hooded lashes into his eyes. Making a show of cleaning off his calloused fingers. If Ash had an ounce less of self control he could have finished then and there.

He instead chuckled, his stare fixated on your mouth as you sucked his fingers. “Look at you, getting all filthy for me , hm?” His pace transformed into rough and desperate thrusts, his swollen head kissing your cervix. He withdrew his fingers from your mouth, his hand meeting his other at your hips, changing the angle he pounded into you just enough for him to be fucking directly into your sweet spot. An aching moan escaped your mouth at the change; allowing anyone who was close enough an exact idea of the wanton situation you were in.

“You sound so fucking hot for me baby, but the last thing I want right now is for someone to take this pussy away from me.” Normally, your response would be to chide him for pointing out the obvious accompanied by an eye roll. However, you just bit down on your reddened bottom lip and nodded, arching down on him further, desperate for him to fuck an orgasm out of you.

Ash's thrusts became rough and desperate, his length hitting your cervix with each powerful stroke. The change in angle caused an electric surge of pleasure to shoot through your body, your stifled moans threatening an exposing volume.

His rough and quickened pace only added fuel to the fire, you could feel the intensity building, your body desperately responding to his every movement in an attempt to bring your orgasm on quicker.

You clenched around him, your walls pulsating with need as you arched your back, meeting his thrusts with fervor. The overwhelming sensations coursing through you pushed you closer to the edge.

With each unrestrained thrust, you felt the pleasure intensify, the tension coiling within you like a tightly wound spring. Your moans threatened to grow louder as you did your best to stay quiet-biting down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood as your head lolled aside, allowing him access to return his mouth to your neck. He callously nipped and sucked at the reddened skin as your nails dug into his skin as you desperately sought release.

As the pleasure reached its peak, you let out a guttural cry, your body convulsing in the throes of your orgasm. Waves of ecstasy washed crassly over you, leaving you breathless and completely consumed by the sensation.

Ash continued to pound into you, fucking you through as you were thrown into rapture. He felt the familiar burning of his own orgasm approaching. His final thrusts were rough and desperate as he finally came, burying himself deep inside you.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, his lips trailed back to yours, taking one last opportunity to taste you.

“You think you’re okay to stand, sweet cheeks?” He asked, his voice soft as his hand trailed down to your ass, gently kneading the soft flesh as he spoke. With a nodded response from you, he slowly pulled out from you. Out of instinct, you whined at the sudden empty feeling, still drunk on the sensation of his cock stuffed into you. He chuckled at your mewl.

“Don’t worry sugar, as soon as I can fuck that tight pretty pussy of yours again, I will. That’s an Ash Williams guarantee. ” He patted your ass and you unwrapped your legs from his waist, placing a foot on the cool ground. You almost fell to the floor as you attempted to put your weight on it. Ash’s metal hand still on your waist, he was able to keep you from falling completely. He smiled, relishing the fact he had fucked you good enough you couldn’t walk.

Knowing exactly what had made his lips curl into such a shit-eating grin, you flicked your eyes up.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You bent down to pick up your long discarded clothes, the cool metal of his hand still on your waist. “They just fell asleep is all.”

“Whatever you say, baby” He winked, turning his attention to disposing of the used rubber, rolling it off his softened cock; careful not to make a mess. He found some garbage to toss it in and pulled his pants back up over his crotch. You cringed at the thought of whoever had to take out that trash later tonight.

“What time are you out tonight?”

The question came as a surprise to you. You raised a brow as you worked to put your pants back on.

“Six…” You responded, unsure of the intent of his question. He wasn’t gonna wine and dine you - or whatever the Ash equivalent is that was - certainly. You had never heard any report of him attempting anything along the lines of that with anyone before. “What time is it anyway?”

He turned his wrist over, looking at the watch face. “Ten after.”

“Oh,” You raised your brows, surprised you had been…occupied, long enough to round out your shift.

“You?”

“I’m out at eight.”

“Oh, well okay”

The dialogue was shallow as you finished reassembling your work clothes.

You turned to him; “Why..?”

Ash looked at you with a cheeky grin, raising his eyes from his watch just enough to look up and meet your eyes.

"We should grab some drinks after work, have a bit of fun. I'll buy, I'm feeling generous tonight."

“And here I’ve been told chivalry is dead” Your put your shirt back over your head in time with the sarcastic response.

"I promise you, my intentions are anything but chivalrous when I tell you I'll be paying." He said with a grin and tacky wink. You decided to roll your eyes playfully opposed to wasting your words.

"I can take that as a maybe?" Ash asked. "Don't disappoint me, darlin'."

“Yeah yeah fine, whatever. Where?” You folded your arms across your chest, waiting for his reply.

"The Elk, we can sit at the bar, talk all flirty like." Ash said suggestively. "Nothing better than a bottle of whiskey on the table and a pretty lady beside it."

“Just pick me up after your shift, yeah?”

"After my shift," He confirmed with a smirk. "But just so I know, that's a yes then?"

“Deduce that one yourself, jackass.” You walked away with a smirk, not sure if volunteering more of your time with Ash would pan out in your favor.

[stickybasementobject]

Every Incarnation of the Doctor in Doctor Who

Jo Martin

William Hartnell

Patrick Troughton

Jon Pertwee

Tom Baker

Peter Davison

Colin Baker

Sylvestor McCoy

Paul McGann

John Hurt

Christopher Eccleston

David Tennant

Matt Smith

Peter Capaldi

Jodie Whittaker

David Tennant again

Ncuti Gatwa

[sculptorofcrimson]

Valdor(NSFW edition) + Yandere

Valdor x Gn!Emperor Shard (or rather, if Valdor assumes they're an Emperor shard.)

I bring MORE brainrot! My thoughts on nsfw Valdor, some yandere parts!

@kit-williams I bring another carcass to feast.

He's gentle. So damnably gentle. He would never raise a hand nor claw against his master. Unless his beloved is a Thunder Warrior or particularly hardy Astartes, he refuses to engage in penetrative sex at all, without far too much preparation, even for a Custodes.

He’s gentle. He doesn’t press. He doesn’t insist. It’s only a physical exertion for him, after all. 

The Emperor made it so that he would never speak against Him. Instead, He put his tongue to better use. Have you ever been eaten out/sucked off by a Custodes while reigning on a throne, as he purrs, pleasantly swallowing cum with that same, obsessive loyalty, gazing up with nothing but worship, thanking his beloved reborn Emperor for accepting him? 

Valdor insists on calling his beloved his Emperor. He calls them his master, his liege, his lord. His Emperor shard. He’ll use no other name. He’ll accept no other name, that broken mind of him will accept nothing else. 

Laurels. He loves laurels. Or rather, he loves what they once meant, he loves the Emperor that wore the crown. Valdor will insist his beloved relive these memories with him, even if the memories were never theirs to begin with.

Only a servant. Only a servant, and nothing more. He obeys. Whatever his beloved wants from him, he obeys. He’ll listen to any command, no matter how degrading it may be for him. But never to hurt them. Never. Valdor would never hurt his master, of course.  

Thrones. Thrones and worship. He loves to kneel. If there is any place he prefers, it’s upon a Throne, worshipping the body of his reborn Emperor. 

Top or bottom? Valdor does not care. He’ll be whatever the Emperor demands of him. He could be used as a cocksleeve and cast aside, and he’d still thank Him for the treatment.

He doesn’t feel arousal the same way a human might. For him, it’s simply a physical exertion. Even sensations are different, they’re…more dulled. Less sharp, less primal, less human for him. He derives no pleasure from pleasure itself, he only derives pleasure from pleasuring another. Valdor’s a servant. He exists to be used. 

Valdor doesn’t feel pleasure the same way a human might. He doesn't pleasure himself. The only sensations he understands are only satisfaction, and failure. He cannot fail. He will not fail his master. He exists to serve, to please and to satisfy. He takes no pleasure in anything, he finds no satisfaction except in seeing the exultation in his master’s eyes.

Valdor doesn’t care, so long as it pleases his master. He himself doesn’t need to be pleased. He loves no one, not even himself. But he loves Him. He finds pleasure in His pleasure, simple as that. 

An Astartes, a Sister, a guardsman, it doesn’t matter. He finds pleasure when the Astartes that was the Emperor reborn gasps as he comes in his mouth, as hands skate across his neural interfaces, holding him close, the Custodian purring around the cock in his mouth, lapping at the warm fluid dripping across his immaculate features. He finds pleasure when she cries out, the Sister of Battle who had been so ready to believe she was the incarnation of the Emperor, when she pumps her hips into his face and he lets himself be ridden. Valdor finds pleasure when he is kneeling, grinding up against the pressure upon his hips, feeling the slide of skin against his, feeling his newest version of his master pleasure themselves with his body, coming apart in his arms. It’s not truly the physical sensations, of course, such primal instincts have been lost to him. But it's servitude. It’s his duty, his obsession, of doing well that brings him joy. 

Finally, it’s not precisely masochism, this obsession with pain he has. But pain doesn’t deter him. It is only a sensation, after all, and a sensation Valdor has learned to associate with his duty being accomplished, with hurling himself in front of blows meant for his Emperor, as is the duty of a bodyguard. He’ll let himself be hurt in bed, without even the shadow of hesitation. It hurts, and so what? What if he enjoys it? What if he enjoys hurting, by his master’s hand? What if he enjoys being reminded he’s nothing more than a dog licking the boots of his master? What if, in some broken part of him the Emperor ripped apart so long ago, he likes the degradation?

Yandere

Sex. It’s one more chain to add. One more chain to keep them close to him, to make sure they can never leave. Won’t they love him? Won’t they love him through these expressions of love and adoration, the meaning of emotion and connections lost to him, but the act itself still remains? Valdor may not understand why such bonds are formed from what is - to him at least - nothing more than an exercise, but it’s a weapon, it’s a spear he can wield to drag them back and chain them to him, to chain his beloved down and make sure they can never leave.

In his hands, it’s a weapon.

~~~

Valdor would stand there, so easy with his dancer’s grace, poised like a perfect ballerina, body all lean muscle and elegance hidden beneath silk, waiting only for a command.

There is no arrogance in his voice, sonorous, confident, and heartless. No fear, no emotion, simply sheer, unrelenting duty. He was always a cold, cold man, but he is also a beautiful one, as graceful as a killer in the night. 

He’ll strip if commanded to. He’ll fuck himself with any array of instruments if commanded to. He’ll set himself ablaze and slaughter your enemies and feed their carcasses to eagles, had he been commanded to.

All he waits, is a single word.

Slowly, without hesitation at all, a cold smile spreads across his lean features. His silk robes rustle as he advances, and slides into a kneel, bowing his head before you. The silk pools across his muscled limbs, hanging around his waist and torso. He holds himself with a ballerina’s grace. 

“Your commands, my master.”