#idk i feel like they are just. very shallow. deliberately. so they are easy to like and easy to ship because that is what theyre there for. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steelycunt · 1 year

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ridi im sorry i need to rant and i think youll get it 😭 like not to be a bitch but this fandom kinda going off the rails and annoying the shit out of me https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRbYASpf/ everybody in the comments unironically loving it,,, i mean wtvr ship who you want but its kinda getting delusional like ppl are just operating on thin air and pretty fancasts atp and i do Not understand or emotionally connect with any of it. at least w wolfstar theres so much material and foundation to explore but what is all the rest of this?? just hot celebrity fancasts and crack. to be fair part of me respects taking a terfs canon material and making everybody gay but the way it seems to be so oversaturating fics and the fandom that characters dont even feel like their original selves .. atp its all just surface level OCs

hello! yes! i'll be honest talking about things like this always make me a little nervous, and i feel obligated to preface anything i say with a disclaimer that none of it really matters, nothing i say matters, and you should do what you like, because--who cares. i am not an authority on--anything, frankly. my opinion holds no more weight than the next guy's, and all i'm doing here is giving it, so. essentially what im saying is--people are perfectly entitled to disagree with me, but people are not entitled to be mean to me about it xx

having said that. it is my personal opinion that s x barty is one of the worst fucking things i have ever heard lol. who even is barty who is that guy. why would s be interested in him at all. i do not understand it it does not make sense to me. from where are we sourcing the character traits and personality that we are giving barty that would ever endear sirius to him, because it objectively cannot be canon.

overall i do not get the new interest in barty + evan + pandora (+ regulus, but we won't go there)...at all, other than guessing that people were bored with the marauders and wanted a new version of them (and new celebrities to fancast) while simultaneously changing next to nothing about them other than superimposing them onto the first slytherin side characters they could rustle up. i expect ive become a bit of a broken record in regards to my dislike of the popular meow-meow-ification + complete absolution of regulus as a character in order to make him a loveable oc (just as i think erasing all the negative traits that r/s have in order to make them more likeable is just as boring), and all of that applies to those other guys as well (with the slight difference that they are, somehow, even less interesting and significant than regulus in canon), so i won't get into that too much. but i think what you say about having no emotional connection to any of it is exactly right lol--it is a sort of shift? i guess? in the fandom that is simply of no interest to me. they are characters that i just have no emotional investment in and admittedly struggle a little to understand why other people do. i am emotionally invested in, like, five characters overall (and even out of those--there's only two i'm really here for innit xx) and i personally cannot extend that investment to a creepy little side character who is mentioned maybe twice in the entire series.

and that is okay! i do not need to understand it. i don't want to say it annoys me because honestly--i don't go there, its nothing to do with me. if i dont like it i just wont interact with it, and the fact that it doesn't interest me has no bearing on what other people are into or want to do, and i couldn't give less of a shit what people do with the canon material, which is largely garbage anyway. take the bits you want from it, play around with those and ignore the rest. in that respect we are all doing exactly the same thing. but yeah i think s x barty is genuinely awful lol. hate it. very terrible. he's already got a loser werewolf boyfriend and he loves him so so much. leave him alone.

#i know most people are reasonable and thus it is perhaps overly cautious of me to insist on shrouding my unpopular #opinions in like. layer upon layer of placatory disclaimers but. well im a rather anxious guy i can't help it xx but im going to use these #tags to have a bit more of a consequence-less hater hour so. if you like regulus or barty or any of that lot i suggest you look away now #because i am about to express opinions about them that you probably wouldnt agree with + wouldnt enjoy reading!!#like full warning what im about to do is NOT any sort of analysis or defence of my opinion i will just be hating on them. is that clear.#okay. having said that. hater hour. barty and evan and honestly regulus were all cunts? like they were terrible people why do we care #about them now. regulus interests me solely as a piece of context for sirius' character. i could not give less of a shit about him as a #person in his own right. which leads me to my next hater moment: why oh why oh WHY on earth would canon james potter be interested #in canon regulus black. it makes sense in like a muggle au where they are virtually completely different characters but canon?#why would he be attracted to him. there is nothing. there is no chemistry i am ASLEEP and so is james. he would not give that #guy a second look. like it just baffles me it truly does. i feel like you have to bend over backwards to create a situation in which #james potter would ever show an interest in regulus. and i know jegulus is a fucking force to be reckoned with nowadays but god i just #do not like that ship. also i think the fact that barty and pandora and evan are essentially just oc characters who have been coloured #in by general fanon consensus shows in that what they have become is just. not interesting or complex or well fleshed out lol. like #idk i feel like they are just. very shallow. deliberately. so they are easy to like and easy to ship because that is what theyre there for.#god it feels so good to say all this. i will never be a hater again (<- lying) but i needed to be able to just. say this just once xx #also if you needed any more indication what barty and evan and regulus are here to do you just have to look at their #super-hot super-conventionally attractive celebrity model fancasts. like it all adds up its like but what if these death eaters were #not actually evil :-( what if they were really sweet and also? so so hot. like they were all so hot and actually really good #and none of them meant to be evil they didnt want to be :-( they were just hot good guys all in love with each other and the evil stuff #they did wasnt their fault :-( like that has to be. the most boring thing you couldve possibly done with these blank slates. surely.#anyway. im done now but i enjoyed hater hour immensely this was so fucking good for my soul xx thanks and goodnight xx #anon #telegram #scream hang on sorry. just looked at the comments of that tiktok where people are saying they were prison besties. girl. girl.#girl they were in prison for very different reasons baby. baby you know that right. baby look at me. look at me

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lesbianyosano · 5 months

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manifesting Fukufuku dying in each others arms -> I am losing it slowly anyway thoughts on the newest chapter?

this has been sitting in my askbox since september and im really sorry anwsering took so long, but ive been trying to articulate how the last few chapters/last episode made me feel and im still not sure, because there have been so many bizzare choices made by both asagiri and the ppl behind the anime i still cant wrap my head around it fully (this got stupid long sorry)

starting with fukuzawa, i made a post a while back talking abt how i was assuming he was going to die/why it'd make a lot of sense, and there were really two main reasons for that; 1. he hasnt had anything interesting to offer for the story for a while and 2. his ability actively stops other important characters (mainly atsushi and kyouka) from further developement. the first thing is now gone which im pretty happy with! i love fukuzawa a lot so it's nice to see him finally have a purpose in the main story and im excited to see where it will go (also fukufuku you will always be famous to me <3333333), but the issue of his ability is still very much here. ive seen ppl theorize that all men are equal is just him lying and there is no ability but i honest to god would hate that, bc it would seem like such a shallow twist. atsushi's conflict with the tiger is central to his character so if it suddenly got revealed that a huge reason why he's even capable of using his power is just placebo "believe in yourself" bullshit i think i'd tear my own hair out. so im still thinking fukuzawa may get killed at some point, esp with the position he's been put into now and how much he seems to not want it.

and as for the "chuuya was never a vampire" fiasco, i honestly have no words, it was so unbelievably bad. ik there's been a ton of posts about how "its actually good" bc fyodor's death was caused by his inability to trust, and dazai's belief in his allies is what put him at an advantage, which is nice yeah, but it doesnt change how fucking stupid of a plan that was. if their goal is to kill fyodor, why not do it in that flooded room? fyodor escapes solely bc chuuya gets him out but if he was concious the entire time why not just leave him there? why continue to pretend? im usually not a huge fan of getting angry over plot holes when the narrative and themes are whats more important, but this is just so blantantly stupid. it feels like asagiri just wanted a plot twist for a plot twist's sake. mersault in general is so poorly constructed as an arc (dazai communicating via his heartbeat,,,, give me a break) but at least you'd hope it would end in a way that makes you excuse all of that, and then it doesn't. i think this post sums up how i feel about this than i ever could

and the fact that its december and we are STILL behind the fucking anime asagiri be so for real. it's easy to see now that the constant half chapters and short releases were a deliberate choice to have the anime catch up which i dont love, but fine, whatever. but now??? what the point of half releases? these chapters have been ready for a long time, and there's no way asagiri and the editors and whoever else is involved arent aware of how frustrated the readers have been for years now. the only explanation i can think of is that maybe the manga will have a different arc conclusion and ctheyre trying to idk, make it seem like we're following the anime closely? idk this shit is so stupid

overall this past arc or two have been bad, there are some elements that make them enjoyable still, but there is no theme consistency and overreliance on cliff hangers (that ppl still somehow buy). it feels like there are no stakes to the story, and that's really bad. maybe it's why i was hoping for fukuzawa to be killed alongside fukuchi idk, it'd finally feel like something is changing

on a brief positive note i quite enjoyed fyodors death, weird catholic freak, ofc nikolai is cradling your arm like this. i was a little suprised to see fyodor killed just yet (bc he always needed to die for the story to be able to wrap up eventually), but given the jesus quote, he may as well come back in some way tbh

#and then there the bsd anime sucks issue #s5 in particular but i think its in huge part bc it seems to have been rushed #like dazai leaving mersault with no blood on his clothes/suddenly walking with no issue #and again. so sorry for not anwsering for months im really bad at running a blog #ask

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gallavictorious · 3 years

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bottom!mickey nonnie here, i had some more thoughts in response to your reply, if you don't mind? :) i can see where the trust aspect might come into play for mickey re: bottoming and i understand your thought process. the only thing that makes me doubt that is how quickly that trust must have been established between him and ian if that is the case. they haven't been fucking for that long when kash walks in on them (which is the first instance we actually know mickey bottoms). i suppose that there could have been a lot of off-screen developments and interactions, but it's too quick imo. their relationship in season one seems more puppy-love to me rather than a deep bond (which i see as starting to form in season two). the way i see it, the only level of trust that needs to be established is "i know you won't tell anyone because you're also closeted and you won't treat me like a bitch because if you do, i'll beat you tf up and just never fuck you again" which is pretty shallow and something mickey could probably have reached with other guys, too. idk, i just don't see their relationship in season one as deep enough for mickey to start trusting ian with things he's worried or insecure about. it makes more sense to me that he lets ian fuck him because it's not that big a deal, rather than because he's already let ian past his walls. we know that ian is all in by that point, but i just don't think mickey is. he likes ian, is drawn to him (probably against his better judgement), but that's as far as it goes, as i see him. since there are such few scenes between them in season one we have no choice but to make our own interpretations, and those are bound to differ. i've just never seen mickey indicate that he thinks bottoming = being a bitch, or even that it's something he worries about. the only thing to support that would be his attitude to prison, but like i said before, i don't think mickey views sex in prison the same as he views sex on the outside. he probably views everything in prison differently. on the outside, with guys who share his secret? i don't think it's too much of a stretch that he would just do what he wants. the danger is the same either way. just my interpretation of him, of course :)

Hiya, Bottom!Mickey Nonnie No. 1!

I don't mind one little bit; in fact, I'm delighted! Apart from enjoying the fun discussion, it's always gratifying to hear back from anons: you usually never actually know if your answer has reached them.

First off, you're damned right it's quick! I personally don't subscribe to the idea that Mickey knew that Ian was gay or had a crush on him preceding their 1x07 tryst (nothing wrong with that notion, btw, it just doesn't appeal to me), so when they suddenly start tearing off each other's clothes that's very sudden. I tend to assume there might have a tiny bit of vague interest prior to this, the proximity and tussling triggers mutual attraction, they both spring boners, and yeah, off they go? You're also quite right in (implicitly) pointing out that we don't know that they had penetrative sex at that time – maybe they moved up from mutual handjobs or just plain grinding to something more a few trysts later. Either way, you make a good point about the danger of sex outside of lock-up would be the same regardless of whether Mickey bottoms or not. I'd never really thought about that before, so thank you for pointing that out!

However, it's probable that the reason I haven't thought very much about it is because when I speak of Mickey's easy trust for Ian I don't primarily mean him trusting Ian not to reveal his secrets to anyone else, but trust him to know Mickey in a way others are not allowed – and here we disagree and that is fine. :) If you see Mickey as unbothered by being into bottoming, you can certainly find support for that in the narrative. We do have the famous ”liking what I like”-line, which absolutely can be taken at face value! The fact that I tend to interpret it as (partly) Mickey being deliberately unapologetic because he feels a bit uneasy about his preferences and is somewhat defensive about Ian's brief allusions to common prejudices around bottoming, has more to do with my assumption that – given Mickey's circumstances – this is something that Mickey's likely to feel insecure about. He's internalized his father's homophobia to some degree; it just seems reasonable to me that he'd have internalized Terry's strong conviction that Milkoviches don't bottom too. (He certainly seems ready to embody that when he attacks Ian's army fuck buddy in season 3, citing the need to kick him straight because he's the one taking it up the ass. However, that could also totally performative or seen as him making a twisted kind of in-joke, so it's hardly conclusive.) Furthermore, I feel that it's not unreasonable to question Mickey's sincerity in regards to the line mentioned above, since we do have instances of him acting seemingly geuninely dismissive even when we know he probably cares quite a bit. I'm thinking primarily about his reaction to Ian's sex strike in season 11; I just don't buy he was unbothered by that, but there's nothing in the way he expresses his lack of concern that suggests it's insincere. This doesn't mean that I think my reading of the line is the correct one, though, just that it's a possible reading given what else we know of Mickey.

But of course, this really is just my assumptions and interpretations. It's very possible to infer from his actions onscreen that Mickey is totally unconcerned about bottoming, and always has been. After all, Mickey is in many ways a genuinely confident person, and I think this extends to his sex life. (I just think there's insecurity and concern, too... Basically, I think Mickey's relationship with his own sexuality and preferences is complicated, a paradoxical tangle of confidence and shame. I find this complexity is fascinating, and if we're being honest that's probably one of the reasons why I'm not so eager to let go of the notion of it.)

That said, though, and regardless of whether or not bottomingrequires any particular trust on Mickey's part, I think we dohave some concrete evidence of Mickey letting Ian past his walls already in 1x07. Not the sex – because we don't know anything about that – but the return of the gun after. That look on Mickey's face just then? That's vulnerability. He knows that by giving the weapon back when he doesn't have to, he shows hint of a softness he can ill afford people to know he possesses at this point. It's walls dropped, if only for a moment, and I just don't see him allowing that with many – if any – other people. While it isvery quick and while there's no telling whyor how, I firmly believe that there is an immediate trust between them that goes beyond just sex. It might not be logical, but I think it's there, and that this easy, natural understanding is a huge part of what has them coming back to each other again and again in spite of the odds being stacked overwhelmingly against them. Like you, though, I don't see this as a deep bond or anything, not this early. Ian falls in love quickly and easily; for Mickey is a much slower process, because he fights even the possibility of it tooth and claw.

And ah, I'm aware that in my first response to you I promised to elaborate on my thoughts on Mickey's stint in Mexico in my reply to Bottom!Mickey Nonnie No. 2, but I ended up cutting that because it got absurdly long in comparision to my notes on what they were actuallyasking about, and that didn't seem fair or relevant to them. However, I now have a third (and a fourth... apparently this is a subject dear to your hearts, sweet followers) Bottom!Mickey Nonnie in my inbox, so if this is something you're interested in, despair not! We'll get there!

Thank you so much for getting in touch, both with your first ask and with this follow-up. I've enjoyed reading your thoughts, and developing my own in response to them, immensely! I highly value being able to civilly disagree and argue viewpoints without either side feeling the need to convince the other, so this has been a real treat. <3

#for a person who isn't very interested in smut at all #i sure have a lot of thoughts on this #mickey milkovich #gallavich #meta #asks #my stuff

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

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The Mandalorian Chapter 13 reactions

Well, that was... well. in short I quite enjoyed some of what happened while din was there and I didn’t really care about what happened while he wasn’t there lol. I think it’s becoming increasingly clear that I just don’t care for the episodes dave filoni writes for this show, which is simply a matter of taste I guess.

(if you loved this episode wholeheartedly -- probably look away now, I’m going to be a bit of a downer about it and I don’t want to shit on your joy haha)

- let’s just get this out of the way first: there’s a lot of stuff around rosaria dawson and transphobia in real life and yeah, of course that affects how I watch the show. I don’t even want to talk that much about ahsoka in this because of it. she was not that good in the role, after seeing how it played out I don’t think the character needed to be in this show at all, and she should never have gotten the role in the first place and that’s about it for what I’ve got to say.

- dave filoni consistently does things with din’s characterization that feels off and weird to me, subtly out of place with what we see in other episodes (he’s... ruder? more short tempered/cocky/actively or aggressively interpersonal? more prone to express himself directly than he is usually? idk how to describe it but filoni!din always feels one step to the left of what he should be and I’m so hyper-attuned to this character that when something’s a bit iffy with him it throws everything else off haha. it feels like a shallower, more convenient read on him and I don’t like it)

I also think filoni is almost too familiar with and in love with the source material sometimes? “A Mandalorian and a Jedi? They’ll never see it coming” is undeniably a great line that echoes in decades of deep lore and so on, but dave my good man din had no real idea what a jedi even is until literally this morning. we, the audience, know about this long and storied history, but unless ahsoka spent the afternoon explaining it to him din still only knows the faint outlines of it, he has no personal experience of or attachment to it. it’s not bad, as such, it just rings false to the character based tone of the show for me personally

- positivity break: baby sitting perched on the dashboard to be close to papa while they’re in hyperspace........sd sdfskdjhfdsakjksdhfkasjd

also this is some full on madonna and child in the manger shit and I am LIVING for it (odds he’s crying quietly behind the helmet here? pretty damn good if you ask me). the mundanity of what’s essentially the shitty spartan bathroom of the razor crest on one side contrasted with the light and tenderness and love on the other? amazing, a perfect microcosm of what this show does with combining the grittier everyday down to earth stuff in the star wars universe with myth and wonder and magic and through it elevating both

- the idea of having an iconique samurai/sword duel standoff and a western standoff going on simultaneously is genuinely inspired, but in action it didn’t really work for me. (the sword duel stuff needs these moments of stillness with sudden outbursts of violence and then stillness again, the western standoff needs mounting tension until it’s nearly unbearable, and cutting between them the way they did you sort of didn’t get either to its full potential. again it’s a cool idea, though, I hope someone picks it up and does it better at some point)

- seeing a jedi and a mandalorian wander together through a burned out wasteland left desolate by greed and warfare should have hit me harder than it did but for some reason it didn’t, idk. thematically sound, though, I like it a lot on the metaphor level

- I LOVE that pure beskar makes a specific sound, and that it’s an almost ethereal noise like the high clear chime of a distant bell. also now din has something to fight light sabers with that isn’t the dark saber which makes me so happy because you guys I do not want him to be the mand’alor. keep that funky laser sword away from my dad, apart from killing him at the end that is literally the most boring way to end his arc pls do NOt

- wow they really went in hard on the samurai stuff in this one huh! there is a part of my mchanzo-loving heart that thrives on seeing a space cowboy and a space samurai team up, *wild otp-fuelled whisper* they’re twin genres inextricably entwined okay they belong together if you see this spreadsheet I’ve made over here --

- even knowing it was just a trick I felt such intense distress seeing the signet pauldron away from din. like the attachment I have to these pieces of metal because That Armour Means Dad... wild

- they really chose the dumbest name possible for the baby huh fsajdfhsaj I agree with din his name is ‘kid’ now (eh just give me a while to get used to it probably I’ll come around)

also... you know what I’ve said before about shrinking the big unknowable galaxy ‘the mandalorian’ has been setting up? wow did they do that big time in this one, and it makes me feel decidedly :/. why does the baby have to come from the jedi temple, is there truly no other tradition of force users in the entire galaxy he could be from? WHY do you have to pull thrawn into this when most people watching this show won’t even know why he’s such a big deal? is this a stealth tease for a rebels sequel? if so why spend an entire episode of this show that only gets eight precious episodes a season on it??

- on a more fun positive note: baby’s clothes are clean again, so it’s confirmed that din does wash them (and I guess that he does have some means of washing clothes aboard the razor crest!). I loved... most of the dad and baby stuff in this one, but then don’t I always I’m easy to please that way haha (the ‘playing catch’ sequence felt a bit off to me but I don’t know why. din being like ‘he’s so stubborn’ wasn’t... eh. didn’t land right. “that would be a first” was fun tho lol)

- having ahsoka state the baby’s feelings out loud like that felt... weird? and also kind of unnecessary in parts, like yeah he’s a baby who’s been passed along to different groups of strangers and experimented on by empire scientists, you don’t need to spell it out for me that he’s been scared and lonely, or at least spell it out more interestingly? it’s such blunt force storytelling where it didn’t need to be? there are more elegant ways to get the same things across, I am absolutely convinced

- ...wow while I was watching the episode I was mostly like ‘okay this is Fine I can go along with it’ but seeing what I’m thinking about in hindsight... yeah probably my least favourite episode of this show full stop haha, it took the spot from chapter 5 which was also a filoni ep

- I did 100% genuinely adore the whole part of din approaching the town and meeting the magistrate. consistently hiding the baby behind his cape and his arm? being deliberately, teeth-grindingly dispassionate with everyone, just giving them nothing? getting to see a bit of professional bounty hunter din again? wonderful in every way, I love this man

- lots of meaningful shots of baby in the middle with a mando on one side and a jedi on the other, it’s almost like they’re setting up some Themes here lol

- ...do you think din told ahsoka about either the rhino-levitating or the force choking. because girl I don’t think not training him is going to make this just go away haha, he just won’t know what he’s doing

- it makes me so sad that baby connects his force powers with being abused :( (also a heartbreaking sign of just how much he cared about din from the very beginning, since he used it on the mudhorn to save him anyway ;________; was that like. literally the first time he sensed kindness and affection in anyone in like twenty five years or... )

- I understand why ahsoka would feel this way because of her past and specific traumas, but tbh attachment in a baby? probably a good thing, he doesn’t really have the higher brain functions to cultivate non-attachment yet and needs a safe figure because again. he is a baby.

good on her for realizing it’s not a task she can take on both for the baby’s sake and her own, and also that din is that baby’s Dad though. the way she smiled at the end watching them leave seemed vaguely hopeful/had a little bit of wonder in it, like maybe she felt the potential for something good there, something she couldn’t conceptualize from her background but could sense the tentative outlines of anyway?

(also so much pressure on a lil bb to decide his path... his dilemmas should be limited to what colour socks he wants to wear today not the course of his entire life :( I know he’s a magic baby but.......)

- idk maybe I’ll find more affection of this episode through rewatches, you never know

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta

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dweetwise · 4 years

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day 18: panic attacks

prompt from: whumptober pairing: felix x ace notes: fluffy angst, idk if this even qualifies as whump but it’s what i went with <3 warnings: panic attack descriptions word count: 1920

Ace is having a rather good day, all things considered. He finishes his second generator of the trial while Feng is still doing a phenomenal job at being chased by the killer, and he even has time to stop and search a chest in good conscience.

He picks up a broken key with a worn brass token, which isn’t ideal but he’ll add it to his ever growing pile of junk back at camp anyway.

In the time it takes him to find a generator, the Nurse has finally managed to down and hook Feng, but someone saves her right after and the chase beings anew. Ace would guess the rescuer was David and that he used borrowed time to make sure the gamer made it out, since he can’t see Felix being stupid bold enough to unhook in the killer’s face like that.

With the Nurse’s distant screeches providing some pleasant background noise—considering it’s not Ace she’s chasing—he gets to work on a nearly completed generator by one of the exits. If he finishes it before the killer comes to check, it marks their fourth completed objective of the trial, and it looks like they’ll have an easy escape provided she doesn’t have the obnoxious totem perk to ensure an instant down after the gates are powered.

At first, Ace doesn’t question why someone would have abandoned the nearly completed machine, but just before he connects the last two wires, he hesitates. Will this be the last generator on this side of the map? Maybe someone wanted to leave it because it’s by an exit?

He gets up to look around a bit, trying to spot any other nearby generators, but then he hears it.

A sob.

Ace frowns in worry and keeps looking around, not seeing any signs of life. Did he imagine it? Feng is the only one injured, and her moans of pain can be heard from halfway across the map. The girl is a lot of things, but quiet sure as hell isn’t one of them.

He remembers the key in his pocket, a normally useless item with an underwhelming add-on that will allow him to see his nearby teammates for only a couple of seconds. But right now, it’s exactly what he needs, and as he channels the item, he eventually makes out a human form cowering in the corner next to the exit gate.

The key’s power dies out but Ace doesn’t care, carefully approaching his distressed teammate.

He should have guessed who he’s going to find just by basic deduction, as Feng is still keeping the Nurse busy somewhere in the Asylum and David is one to push forward through sheer stubbornness. It still takes him by surprise to notice Felix, normally so calm and collected, huddled in on himself with his knees drawn close to his chest and his head buried in his hands.

Ace suddenly feels very out of place, and he realizes he could just slowly back away and Felix probably wouldn’t even know he was ever there.

But Felix doesn’t seem to be just taking a mental break from the trial, he looks to be struggling. His entire body is trembling and he’s taking sharp, wheezy breaths, bordering on hyperventilating.

And Ace might not be the best at offering comfort, but he sure as hell is going to try.

“Hey,” he offers softly as not to spook Felix, but from the way Felix’s head snaps up in surprise, he’s not successful. Shit, he’s never seen the guy so upset, looking utterly broken with tears and snot running down his face and taking short, shaky breaths. It make’s Ace’s cold, selfish heart clench in sympathy and he slowly kneels down on Felix’s level, far enough away to hopefully not feel like he’s cornering him. “How you holding up?”

That’s probably the dumbest thing he could have asked, but at least it makes Felix react, quickly wiping at his face and averting his eyes.

“F-fine, sorry—” Felix starts, but then his trembling voice breaks on another sob and he hides his face behind his hand in shame as another wave of what Ace assumes to be a panic attack hits.

Ace has never been good at dealing with emotions, his or others’, but he’s learned a lot after being swept up by the Entity and trying to keep everyone in their little group happy and healthy. He knows that Dwight needs to be held when his anxiety surfaces, and although that position is usually reserved for Jake, Ace has been the body for Dwight to cling to on a few occasions when others were unavailable. On the other hand, when something triggers Quentin’s PTSD, the boy wants nothing more than to be left alone, and even the smallest touch will send him spiraling deeper into his own head.

“It’s alright,” Ace says, trying to keep his voice calm and even offering an encouraging smile. “We’ve all been there.”

That seems to calm Felix down some, so Ace optimistically deduces that maybe his presence does help after all.

This is a vastly different situation from Dwight or Quentin, though. Where Ace mostly sees himself as a somewhat shitty parental figure to the boys, he’s been openly flirting with Felix ever since the other got here. And despite Felix sometimes awkwardly flirting back, he fully expected their relationship to stay at the casual friendship level.

But this is huge step, and if Ace manages to comfort him without hiding behind shitty jokes and Felix allows himself to be vulnerable, maybe that’s a sign they could eventually be something more.

“Just say the word and I’ll be on my way,” Ace starts. “But I also have a pretty good shoulder to lean on, if that’s something you think might help.”

Felix glances at him and Ace tries to keep the smile on his face despite his own nerves surfacing and mixing with the worry for Felix already there.

“Are you sure?” Felix asks, voice nowhere near steady but at least being able to form a complete sentence.

“Of course!” Ace reassures without even knowing which option Felix is referring to.

And then Felix looks back at the ground and curls in on himself further and Ace tries not to be disappointed. He’s already moving to get up, an apology ready on his tongue, when Felix shuffles along the exit gate wall to make room for Ace to join him.

The grin that forms on his face might not be the most appropriate considering the circumstances, but Felix doesn’t protest, in fact he immediately buries his face against Ace’s shoulder and clasps his arm in a death grip as soon as he takes a seat next to him.

Felix takes shallow breaths against him and Ace doesn’t care that his shirt is getting stained with wet tears and snot, suddenly hit with how intimate the entire situation is. His own nerves resurface and his free hand hovers awkwardly in the air, not sure if it’s appropriate to touch the distressed man.

But in the end, he’s a gambler, and so he gambles, placing a hesitant hand in Felix’s hair as he remembers the other is usually messing with it when he’s nervous.

When the only reaction he gets is Felix gripping his arm tighter, he carefully starts running his hand through the locks, slightly disheveled from where Felix has no doubt been doing the same.

“It’s okay,” Ace says, trying to keep his voice steady and hoping Felix can’t hear his heart hammering in his chest. “You’re okay.”

“I’m going to get crows,” Felix chokes out through the tears.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ace reassures, discreetly looking up to try to spot the birds that should already be circling above Felix’s head. “Feng and David are keeping her busy. She’s got no reason to come here.”

Ace frowns as he realizes can neither see nor hear the Entity’s spies, despite knowing their captor’s rules clearly state the birds should be giving away their location by now.

The key sits heavy in his pocket and he suddenly realizes maybe the Entity wanted him to find Felix. Regardless of how Ace feels about the otherworldly being, he knows it’s not satisfied unless the trial has been what it considers “fair”. Maybe it’s giving them a time-out until Felix is in shape to continue, and maybe that’s why Feng still hasn’t been caught, despite being injured against one of the strongest killers.

“Seems like the crows are on their lunch break,” Ace voices his observation in hopes of reassuring Felix. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Not surprisingly, the knowledge that he’s not on a time limit seems to calm Felix down some, and the grip on Ace’s arm loosens as the sharp breaths slowly turn into more deliberate ones.

“That’s it, deep breaths,” Ace murmurs and keeps petting Felix’s hair since it seems to be working, or at least not making the situation worse. “You’re going to be fine.”

He has no idea how long they sit there together, with Felix slowly coming back to himself and Ace offering generic encouraging sentiments he hopes are somewhat helpful, lost in their own little bubble while the trial carries on without them.

When Felix eventually pulls away, Ace feels disappointed, even if he finally gets some much needed blood flow to his arm that has fallen asleep a while ago.

“Fuck,” Felix sighs and leans his head back against the tiled wall with a dull ‘thud’. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not,” Ace offers with a small grin. “But I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I didn’t expect one in the middle of a trial,” Felix says, letting Ace is on the fact that this wasn’t a one-off. “Thank you. You, um, helped. A lot,” Felix says bashfully, and Ace has to resist the urge to pull him back into his arms.

“Don’t mention it,” he says instead, and when Felix just gives him an adorable, tiny smile, can’t resist adding a cheeky “There’s a lot worse ways to spend a trial”.

“I’d say being a liability and making a complete fool of myself isn’t something I’m eager to repeat,” Felix mutters, but he’s still smiling, so Ace hopes he’s not still embarrassed.

“Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t make the situation worse,” Ace jokes. “Or that my brain didn’t implode on itself from not making jokes or flirting for five minutes.”

“You were perfect,” Felix says so earnestly it takes Ace completely off guard, and he’s not blushing he’s just suddenly really warm okay— “I should get back to my generator,” Felix seems to remember, looking over Ace’s shoulder in the direction of the machine. “I’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time for today.”

“If there’s anything we have plenty of, it’s time,” Ace reassures, pushing himself off of the wall and ready to join the trial.

He offers a hand to help Felix up, and it makes him smile when Felix only hesitates for a split second before accepting the gesture.

“You know, we should do this more often,” Ace says with a grin as he pulls Felix up on his feet. “I mean, preferably without the panicking. I didn’t mind but it didn’t exactly look like you were having the time of your life.”

Felix huffs out a small laugh at the statement, and then he squeezes Ace’s hand that’s still clasped in his.

“I’d like that.”

#whumptober2020 #no.18 #panic attacks #dead by daylight #fic #riconti #dweetwrites #ace visconti #felix richter #dbd #prompt #felix x ace #dbd fanfic #mental illness cw

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ethereousdelirious · 4 years

Text

Fandom: The M.agnus A.rchives

Characters: E.lias, P.eter

Pairing: E.lias/P.eter

Tropes: mistaken for drunk, fever, collapsing, flu, coughing, pining, mild humiliation, caretaking, intimacy

Summary: E.lias comes down sick a party he tricked P.eter into attending. P.eter looks after him.

Warnings/Notes: Mild spoilers if you don’t know who P.eter L.ukas is, obviously haha. Mild spoilers if you don’t know why E.lias is a main character. Usually with p.odcasts I try to avoid describing the characters but my h.eadcanons kinda crept through this time. I tried not to be too in-your-face about it Also I have a specific interpretation of how L.onelyE.yes works that you may or may not share??

Umm final thoughts, I’m A.merican and have undoubtedly let some A.merican-isms slip through and you’re just going to have to live with that. Also the symptoms are kinda?? IDK how to describe it. A little inaccurate but done deliberately. You’ll see what I mean. Basically, I know what I’m about and if you see something wrong that isn’t a typo, I either did it deliberately or am aware it’s fudged don’t care enough to fix it

Peter, Elias was delighted to see, was looking distinctly uncomfortable. His shoulders were tensed, his head ducked in a futile effort to make himself smaller and somehow less noticeable.

Elias took another sip of Prosecco and congratulated himself on a job well done. It had been pathetically easy to get Peter to turn up at the Magnus Institute holiday party. Really, all Elias had to do was convince Peter that he wasn't wanted there, and Peter would turn up just to watch him squirm. It had worked like a charm.

"So many people seem to want to meet you," Elias said, only half trying to keep the smugness out of his voice. If he was being honest, the Prosecco had gone to his head a bit, and they hadn't even been here that long. "I did tell you I didn't think you should come. I'm sure they'll all be talking about you for weeks."

Peter eyed him mistrustfully. "You don't seem to mind too much."

Elias actually laughed at this, and passed his glass over to Peter. "Oh, do try to lighten up and enjoy yourself."

Finally, the penny dropped. "You tricked me," Peter said plainly. He accepted the glass and finished its contents in one swallow. "You wanted me here. Why? Just to watch me suffer?"

"Not at all," Elias lied. "Believe it or not, I do enjoy your company, and I knew you wouldn't come if I asked you to."

"There are so many people," Peter said with audible disgust. "And they're all being so friendly with each other. God, I hate the holidays." He looked down at Elias, whose face was flushed. "Are you drunk, Elias?"

"Hardly," Elias said, another lie. The hotel ballroom he'd had Rosie rent was incredibly warm despite its size. Under his jacket, he could feel his shirt sticking to his upper back with a fine sheet of sweat. "Why don't we go outside?"

"I don't forgive you," Peter muttered, but he let Elias lead him around the dance floor to one of the balconies.

He shut the sliding door behind them, and then they both turned and stared at each other with vastly differing degrees of coldness.

Perhaps unused to being scrutinized so severely, Elias broke first under Peter's frigid gaze. "Oh, come on, Peter. Don't be like that. I didn't invite you here just to make fun of you. I wanted you to come." His face was still flushed and he wasn't shivering despite the cold December air that made his breath come out in white puffs.

"Really," Peter said. He went to lean against the metal railing, but thought better of it. The wrought iron had gone icy cold. He rubbed his hands against the thick wool of his sweater and gazed out over the cityscape.

"Really," Elias said. He didn't say more.

Peter continued to stare out at the city. Surrounded by companionship, he pretended he could feel the intense loneliness of one who walked the city streets at night yet had no connections within.

It was part of why he could stand Elias. Elias never made him feel loved, just used. Peter revelled in the wanting, in the desire for something more that he knew would forever be denied to him. He decided. For Elias, for the Lonely, he would endure.

"Fine."

"You'll stay?" Elias lit up, clearly delighted. He took one of Peter's hands in his own, and they were warm. "Excellent."

Peter tugged Elias closer to him because he knew it would annoy him. "When was the last time you felt anything other than smug satisfaction?" he asked, wrapping his arms around Elias.

"Don't, someone might see," Elias protested. He was warm, and he was small. He barely came up to Peter's collarbone and couldn't wrap his arms all the way around Peter's sturdy body. He was staring fixedly through the glass door.

"I thought you wanted me here," Peter teased. He shivered and pulled Elias in closer. “Doesn’t everyone here think I’m your husband?”

"You're cold," Elias said. "Let's go in. I'm sure someone will have spiked the punch by now."

He slid the door open and stepped over the threshold.

"You don't think you've had enough?" Peter asked. Elias had never been a heavy drinker, and he was still pink-cheeked from the several glasses of Prosecco he'd had earlier. Then, just to annoy Elias, Peter added, "Little guys like you should go slow."

Elias huffed and ran a hand over his perfectly-styled hair as though to slick it back. "I think I know my own limits, thank you very much."

They got drinks, avoiding conversation, and posted up against the wall as all the tables were taken and Peter didn't want to share.

Elias clutched at his glass of water and leaned against the wall, absently studying the cable pattern of Peter's sweater.

He didn't look like he was sobering up at all, Peter reflected. His shoulder was pressed against the wall a little too hard to be casual and his pale cheeks were still aglow.

"Dizzy?" Peter asked with faux-innocence.

"A bit, actually," Elias mumbled, which wasn't like him. Peter barely heard him over the music.

Peter smirked. "Want to sit?"

"No." Elias downed half the glass of water in an instant and shivered. "That won't be necessary."

"What's the alcohol content of Prosecco, anyway?" Peter teased. The punch had indeed been spiked. He was careful to just sip at it, the better to make fun of Elias for going too fast.

"12%," Elias answered. He frowned, looking perplexed. "I only had two glasses."

"Two and a half," Peter said. It wasn't often that he had anything to hold over Elias, and he was enjoying this immensely. "Tell me, do you have any special urge to do karaoke? Or dance on the table?"

"Shut up," Elias said, frowning. He took another sip of water and leaned harder into the wall.

"Why don't you introduce me to this new Archivist of yours?" Peter suggested, trying to get something out of Elias.

"Later."

Peter frowned. "Then why don't you eat something? The party's not going to be any fun if you're like this all night.” He shook his head. “I never would have pegged you as a melancholy drunk.”

"I do apologize," Elias said sarcastically.

"Really, sit down. I'll get you a roll or something."

"I'm not hungry."

"You'll feel better if you eat," Peter insisted.

The look Elias gave him was keen and full of mistrust. "What do you care if I feel better?"

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"That's certainly a word for it." Elias sighed and tried to straighten up, but kept most of his weight on the wall. "Where do you suggest I sit so you can fawn all over me, hm? I can't have them knowing too much about me."

"Of course," Peter said with sarcastic solemnity. "That's your job."

"Precisely."

"Look," Peter said. "Just sit down and eat something. Stop acting like a child."

"Fine. But do watch your hands." Elias marched off to a table and set to work scaring off its other occupants. Peter watched him at it, then started filling up a plate with things he knew Elias didn't like.

When Peter returned Elias was sitting slumped, with his chin resting in his palm, the fingers tensed along the angle of his jaw. He didn't look any better, although it had already been some time since his last drink.

Peter didn't reflect on it too long. He slid the paper plate over to Elias. It was piled high with sweets and baked goods.

Elias actually made a face. "I'm really not hungry."

"You really will feel better if you eat something," Peter said.

"And I'm telling you I don't want to," Elias snapped.

Peter noticed suddenly that he wasn't slurring his words, and hadn't been all evening. "Elias?"

"What?"

"Have you considered that you might be sick?"

"I'm not going to be sick," Elias said, misunderstanding.

"No, no. That you're sick. I think you have a fever." Peter leaned over and cupped his hand on Elias' neck. It was warm, but then, it was a warm room.

"Ah," said Elias curtly, leaning away from Peter's touch. Then, "Damn." He shifted positions, putting his head in both his hands. "I don't even remember the last time I was sick."

"You'd better sit up," Peter said brightly. "People are starting to stare."

"They are not," Elias said, but he straightened up all the same. Sure enough, the group at the next table over was looking at him curiously. "I can't leave early," he said.

"Why not?"

"It'll look bad." Elias took a few shallow breaths and set his jaw like he was in pain. "I'll have to stay."

"Will they be expecting a speech?" Peter wondered out loud, mostly for the joy of seeing Elias go pale with dread.

Elias did indeed blanch, turning almost gray under the low lights. His forehead was shiny with sweat. "I just won't this year. Nobody likes those speeches anyway. I mostly give them because people hate them."

"You need to go home," Peter said. "You look terrible." Now that he knew what the problem was, it was quite obvious. Though a persistent fever blush stained Elias' cheeks a drunken pink, the rest of his face was sickly white. His breathing was irregular and his brow was creased in evident pain. Peter imagined he had quite a headache but wasn't admitting it.

He also imagined that Elias knew he needed to go home, but was resisting for the simple, petty reason that it was Peter who'd suggested it.

"I'll be fine," Elias insisted.

"So you're just going to sit here," Peter said, "all night." He checked his watch. "It's only just now 10:00, and I can't imagine this will be over earlier than 3:00."

"Everyone usually starts clearing out around 1:00," Elias corrected him. He coughed lightly, experimentally.

"You didn't answer me," Peter said.

"About what?"

"Are you really just going to sit in the chair for 3 hours?"

Elias regarded him coldly and coughed again, this time muffling the sound into his sleeve. "Perhaps."

"Do you want some coffee?" Peter asked suddenly.

"Yes," Elias said. He eyes the plate, piled high with pastries and all the things Peter knew he didn't care for. "Please don't do anything strange to it. I'll Know if you do."

Peter went off to get the coffee. He thought about adding sugar to Elias' just to spite him, but didn't, and came back carrying two mugs of perfectly ordinary coffee.

"Thank you, Peter," said Elias with something close to real sincerity.

Peter shrugged, uncomfortable. "Maybe it'll help with that cough."

The night dragged on. Peter, bored and uncomfortable, wanted to leave.

Sitting there watching Elias smolder with fever was not exactly fun, if only because he wasn't getting any sense of personal triumph out of it. Elias didn't seem to be getting any worse, and Peter was worried he wasn't going to get a grand "I told you so" moment. Still, he waited on the off chance that it might happen.

They hadn't bet on it exactly, but Peter felt the thrill of a bet all the same. In his mind, he had bet against Elias making it through the evening and he wanted to see what would happen. Since it wasn't a proper wager, Elias' humiliation would be prize enough. The only thing Peter had to lose was time, and he had plenty of that.

Elias smothered a cough into a cloth napkin.

"How are you feeling?" Peter asked.

Elias looked at him with malice. "If you ask me that again, I'm going to--"

"To what?" Peter challenged, beaming. "You wouldn't kill me, Elias, you like me too much."

"Try me," Elias said through gritted teeth.

Every so often, one of the more bold (or drunk) employees would happen across their table and make conversation with Elias. Peter was consistently amazed at Elias' ability to lie through his teeth and act like an ordinary man. He even came off a bit stupid, which was a truly great deceit.

Elias slumped backwards in his chair and rubbed at his forehead.

"Headache?" Peter asked.

Elias looked at him sideways. "Would it make you happy if I said 'yes'?" he asked, sounding exhausted.

"You could ask for paracetamol," Peter suggested.

"I know you don't have any."

"That's not what I meant." Peter smiled sedated. "I could go ask for you, if you like." He affected a saccharine, doting tone and expression, "Excuse me, do you have any painkillers on you? I'm so worried about my dear Elias--"

"Do shut up," Elias said. He coughed a little behind his lips and looked at the army of mugs and glasses surrounding him. Finding the most recent addition, a mug of chamomile Peter had recently brought him, he took a sip. "You put honey in this."

"For your throat. Do you want me to ask about painkillers or not?"

"No. You could sneak into the coat closet, if you were so inclined, and steal some from the red purse or the navy jacket in the back."

It was as close to asking for a favor as Elias would ever get, and it was good enough for Peter. Wondering idly if the Lonely disapproved of such frivolous manifestations of its power, Peter let himself disappear.

Finally, it came time to leave. The music stopped, the overhead lights came on, and Peter got to his feet with a bitter feeling of disappointment in his chest.

He'd babysat Elias all night with nothing to show for it.

"Shall I see you home?" he asked. "I can't imagine you'll want me to stay."

"I don't care either way," Elias said. He stood up and immediately had to grip the back of the chair to keep his balance as the color drained from his face.

He looked awful. Peter realized with no small measure of delight that Elias felt much worse than he'd let on. "I'll take you home," he said.

Elias released his white-knuckle grip on the chair and made slowly for the exit. The remaining employees were leaving in a trickle.

"Quite a lot of people are still here," Peter observed, surprised.

Elias didn't say anything.

They joined the throng in its slow crawl toward the doorway. Elias put his hand on Peter's back and bunched up his fingers in the fabric of Peter's sweater. He didn't seem to realize what he'd done, and had no expression whatsoever on his ashen face.

They reached the exit. Elias' grip went slack and he stumbled.

"Elias?" Peter said, reaching out for him. People turned to look. Elias took a staggering half-step forward and fainted.

"Elias!" Peter repeated. He caught Elias by the shoulders and lowered him to the ground.

They were right in the middle of the doorway, surrounded by people on all sides. There was absolutely no privacy to be had.

The wave of curiosity and concern from the crowd was almost physically repulsive to Peter. He shuddered under the weight of it.

Doing his best to ignore the murmuring from the crowd, Peter put his hand to Elias' cheek. He was burning up, of course. Even as Peter looked down at him, Elias' eyelids began to flutter. He sighed and opened his eyes. Momentarily confused, he looked at Peter, then at the ceiling.

Realizing what had happened, he closed his eyes again and pressed his lips into a thin, white line. "Shit."

Peter remained silent, his hand still pressed to Elias' fevered cheek. Behind him, someone was trying to get the crowd to back off.

"Help me up," Elias muttered, moving his lips as little as possible. Peter wordlessly held out his arm and hauled Elias to his feet.

"I'm quite alright," Elias was saying in response to a whole barrage of questions. "No, no, that won't be necessary. Yes, just a flu, I'm sure. Peter will see me home. Thank you."

And, clinging almost painfully to his arm, Elias dragged Peter across the lobby and out a side entrance, then collapsed heavily on the steps with his head in his hands.

"Don't stop here," Peter said, finally allowing himself to feel sorry for Elias now that he'd gotten a heavy dose of humiliation.

Elias let out a barrage of coughs in response, folding over nearly double. This too had gotten worse. The sound was dry and crackling.

"You're really not feeling well, are you?" Peter asked, almost in a marveling tone.

"Just go if you're going to mock me," Elias said in an unusually thready voice. "I don't have to put up with this."

"Oh, Elias." Peter had gotten the upper hand so quickly it almost wasn't fun anymore. "Come on and let me take you home. They've got cabs waiting out front." He shivered and realized with irritation that he'd forgotten his jacket inside. Oh, well.

"Come on, up you get."

Elias stood up slowly and stood panting for a moment. Peter waited for him to recover then steered him to a taxi. This really wasn't fun anymore. He had never seen Elias so pliant, so agreeable, so…. So vulnerable.

Still, Peter reflected, leaning back after giving the driver Elias' address, he didn't want Elias to die. If word got out that he was ill, someone would most certainly come to finish him off.

So, Peter would have to stay with him until he was better.

"I'm the only one that gets to kill you," he said softly to Elias, who had gone slack against the door.

The driver looked up in alarm, but said nothing.

They reached Elias' building. In lieu of searching for the keys, Peter phased in through the door and unlocked it.

Elias ignored him, crossed the threshold, and went immediately to bed.

The whole apartment has a cold, untouched feeling that made Peter feel immediately at ease. It was a welcome change from the warm, cheerful atmosphere at the holiday party. Peter shut the door, locked it, and leaned back against it. He closed his eyes and breathed in the abject loneliness of the apartment. Then he straightened and went to go get Elias.

If Peter was going to be looking after him, he could at least exact a bit of torment while he was there.

Although. He was certain nothing could ever be as satisfying as watching Elias faint in front of half his staff, with nothing and no one to blame but himself and his pride.

Peter sighed in satisfaction and flicked on the lightswitch.

"Go away," Elias said, not visible beneath the covers.

"You're not sleeping in that suit," Peter said cheerfully. "Let's get you changed!"

"I'm going to kill you," Elias said evenly. Peter grabbed him by the shoulders and sat him up. He took off Elias' suit jacket and began to unbutton his shirt.

His skin was still ablaze with fever heat and his skin was slick with sweat.

"I'm going to reach into your mind and pick out the worst thing that's ever happened to you," Elias was ranting, glassy-eyed, "And I'm going to show it to you in such vivid detail that the anguish kills you on the spot."

"Dear Elias," Peter smiled paternally at him. "Meeting you was the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Now take off your slacks."

Elias got to his feet and immediately had to lean back against the bed for balance. When he was standing there in nothing but his boxers, Peter turned away. "Now let's see, where do you keep your pajamas?"

"Peter," Elias said in a warning tone.

"Do it, then," Peter said placidly, digging through Elias' chest of drawers. "Really. I'd like to see you try. Ah! Here we are."

He turned around to find Elias glaring daggers at him. Then a flurry of coughs overtook him. The muscles in his chest and abdomen all jumped with the effort.

"You're so scrawny," Peter said, dressing Elias with ease. "What are these, silk? They're nice."

"I really hate you," Elias said. His head was hanging, his eyes half-open, and Peter suspected that his locked knees were the only thing keeping him upright.

"To bed with you," Peter said.

Elias tucked himself back under the covers and closed his eyes.

"I'll be here when you wake. Shout if you need anything." Peter turned off the light and went out, knowing full well that Elias' pride wouldn't allow him to ask for a single thing.

"Peter?"

Peter woke in confusion, not realizing he had fallen asleep. He was sprawled out on Elias' couch (to the extent that a man of his size and stature could sprawl).

"Peter," Elias called again, gently. He coughed and Peter winced.

He got up slowly, yawning, and shuffled into Elias' bedroom. "What is it?"

Elias didn't answer, but Peter could hear his labored, wheezing breaths.

"I'm gonna turn on the light."

No reply.

Peter flicked on the lightswitch and almost flinched at the sight. Elias had kicked off the covers and was lying on his back, sprawled out and breathing heavily. His face was an angry red all the way down to the neck and his eyes were glassy and distant.

"Hm," Peter said, more to himself than to Elias. "I knew the Eye wasn't going to let you die, but I didn't think it would allow you to suffer quite this much."

For all his faults, Peter did in fact possess and conscience, and he really wasn't enjoying the sight of Elias suffering like this.

"Obviously I can't take you to hospital," he said, looming over Elias. "Do you even have organs anymore? Or is it just eyes all the way down?"

Elias coughed and fought to draw breath. "I can't--" he tried to articulate. "I don’t--"

"Relax," Peter said. He smoothed back Elias' hair and let out a dismayed sigh at the heat radiating from Elias’ head. He really wasn't sure what to do, but he certainly had nothing to gain by leaving Elias here to suffer.

"Peter," Elias panted. "What's happening to me?"

"I know you've had a fever before," Peter said, consciously refusing to feel too sorry for him.

"Hurts…"

"I know." Peter put his hands on his hips and surveyed Elias on the bed. His carefully pomaded hair was a mess, his pajamas soaked in sweat. Yet his dark eyes somehow hadn't completely lost the sharp quality of Beholding. Even now they seemed to bore into Peter.

"How about I run you a bath?" Peter suggested.

"I don't care what you do." Elias rolled over and winced, pressing his hand to his forehead. "Just make it stop."

Peter walked away to run the bath, then came back to get Elias. He bent down and slid his arms under Elias' back and knees, carrying him bridal style. Elias was so warm it was actually uncomfortable to be close to him.

"What's your temperature?" Peter asked.

"41," Elias said. He slumped bonelessly in Peter's arms, barely able to keep his head up.

"You know," Peter reflected. He set Elias down on the edge of the tub and started to undress him. "A normal person would be in deep shit right about now. But look at you. You can still talk. I bet you could even stand if you tried."

"No," Elias shook his head. He let Peter strip him naked without even a shred of resistance. "I'm so tired."

"Mm." Peter manhandled Elias into the bath, bracing himself for impact.

Sure enough, Elias gave a cry and immediately began to shiver. "This isn't better, Peter."

Peter shrugged. "You were overheating. Let me take care of you a little."

"Take care of me how?" Elias growled.

"I've asked you not to compel me," Peter said with forced evenness."Besides, I thought you could just take that information?"

Elias' shoulders dropped. Stark naked and shaking, wet, with his hair all in his face, he looked so pathetic that Peter almost felt truly sorry for him. "I can't control it. The woman upstairs purposefully broke up her daughter's marriage and there's someone walking by who committed a hit and run three years ago and is still terrified of getting caught--"

"Enough," Peter said. Elias' voice was tremulous, pained. "Just let me wash your hair."

Elias nodded, and Peter rolled up his sleeves and began to run his wet hands through Elias' hair. It was stiff with product, and lightly scented. Elias stopped shivering and gave a deep, exhausted sigh.

"See?" Peter said. "Isn't this nice?" He reached for the shampoo and massaged it into Elias' scalp. He was still incredibly hot, but perhaps a little less than he had been before.

Elias seemed to want to speak but was overtaken by a coughing fit. His shoulders spasmed and leaned forward, coughing violently into open air. Peter rubbed his back until the fit was through, then continued running his hands through Elias' hair.

"Peter," Elias said, sounding almost like his usual self. He hesitated, licked his lips. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"I don't know," Peter said after a long pause. He cupped his hands and started to rinse the shampoo out of Elias' hair. Elias hadn't compelled him that time, yet he still felt a strange need to be honest. "I won't lie, I do like seeing you like this. It's not often you've got your worst enemy helpless at your feet. But…" He thought for a moment. "I don't want to see you suffer too much. When I put you to bed and you were overheating and miserable, it didn't feel like victory. It just felt like cruelty. And despite everything, I don't want to be cruel. Not to you."

For a long time, Elias didn't say anything. Peter started to condition the ends of his hair.

"I wouldn't do the same for you," Elias said.

"I know," Peter replied.

That was the whole point, after all.

#i'm sorry i talk so fucking much gkhsfkhjfs #i have a d h d #ethereous writes #illness kink #caretaking #whump

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feroxcia · 4 years

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RULES: REPOST, DON’T REBLOG. JUST PICK A MUSE OF YOURS AND FILL IT OUT.

MUSE: Gary Oak

BASICS

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL/SHORT/AVERAGE? I mean he’s almost 6 feet. Tall but not super tall.

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT? Yeah, Gary doesn’t give much thought to his height, mostly because he’s pretty average and fits in with the crowd.

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE? Brown color. Shoulder length when down. Pretty thick and softer than you’d think. Though you wouldn’t really notice with all the gel he uses. It can get pretty gnarly if he doesn’t comb it.

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR/WITH THEIR GROOMING? He does, especially as he’s gotten older. He meets with a lot of important people, so he’s always gotta be in his best. Never know who your gonna meet. As stated before he takes very good care of his hair (he doesn’t want to start balding at 40). But he takes good care of his face too. Even plucking his eyebrows and wear a little cover up if he has a blemish. If he’s going on a date, a tiny dab of lip gloss is sure to stop some hearts. ▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE? Absolutely. His looks are everything to him. If he doesn’t look good he doesn’t feel ready for the day.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT WHAT OTHERS THINK ABOUT THEM? Kinda. He likes to think he doesn’t, but he does. Honestly he just likes the attention, positive or negative. He really doesn’t care if you love him or hate his guts, so long as you remember him, that’s all that matters.

PREFERENCES

▸ INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? Outdoors. I mean, he likes both in their own separate ways. But outside is more freeing.

▸ RAIN OR SUNSHINE? Honestly he appreciates both. The sun is warm and bright. It warms his skin and gives him and he pokemon of the world energy. But the rain is calming. It provides the water for everything to grow and the sound helps him focus. There needs to be a balance though. Long hot stretches of days drain him, and many days of overcast rain can make him mopey.

▸ FOREST OR BEACH? He doesn’t mind a nice day on the beach, but the forest is where he thrives. Exploring, hunting, learning, observing. There’s so much to see and find in a forest. Even if you’ve been through it a hundred times you’ll still discover something new.

▸ PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS? Both are cool? He’s an archaeologist at heart, so if he’s digging and comes across something shiny, well that’s a bonus find! Obviously gems are more sparkly and eye catching. But natural metals are fascinating and he owns a few chunks of raw ore he’s dug up.

▸ FLOWERS OR PERFUMES? Flowers. Strong perfumes make him stuffy and can give him headaches. You know those ladies. You walk past em and it’s like walking into a wall of artificial scents. Probably used to cover up some sort of insecurity, their nose blind, or the fact that they haven’t showered in a week. Yeah that’s gross. But flowers are nice. A good scent and something pretty to look at.

▸ PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE? Gary would be shallow and say appearance. And of course, appearance is important. He won’t boogie with someone he’s not physically attracted to. But that’s just a surface level. If you really wanna get to him you gotta have the right personality too.

▸ BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD? Honestly it depends on what he’s doing. Is he out for a night on the town? Then he’s going to be part of the crowd, living up the limelight. Is he working or studying? The he’d much rather be left alone, or maybe with one other person there to bounce ideas around. He’ll always prefer being the center of attention. But he’s learned to enjoy the quiet moments when he’s the only one there.

▸ ORDER OR ANARCHY? You obviously need both to have any sort of functioning society, but Gary tends to lean more towards anarchy. Order is fine when the situation calls, but he thrives on going against the grain and challenging what people think. If there’s a cause he wants to fight for he’ll start a riot.

▸ PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES? Gary tends to be very blunt and to the point, so painful truths are his game. He’s not one to pussy foot around, and he’ll speak his mind when he feels it needed. Plus, he’d much rather hear a painful truth himself than to keep him going with a white lie. There are some white lies he’s okay with. Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy, stuff like that. But if it’s important, you bet your bippy he’ll come out and say whatever needs to be said.

▸ SCIENCE OR MAGIC? Obviously being the grandson of a professor and an aspiring one himself, science comes first. Magic is only found in fiction. Though one could argue that pokemon themselves are magic, Gary likes t believe there’s always a scientific reason for something happening.

▸ PEACE OR CONFLICT? He’d rather there be peace, but if peace isn’t an option Gary’s probably one of the first people to jump to conflict to solve an issue.

▸ NIGHT OR DAY? Both are beautiful in their own right, but night is where Gary really comes alive (it’s no wonder he owns an Umbreon). Dark city streets, neon lights, loud music and social drinking are all in his aesthetic wheelhouse. He loves the atmosphere.

▸ DUSK OR DAWN? Dawn. Contrary to the above dawn has some of the most beautiful vistas. Colors dancing in the sky, pokemon waking up from their nights slumber to prepare for the day. It’s wonderful. Too bad he doesn’t see it often.

▸ WARMTH OR COLD? Once again, both are nice. Warmth is obviously more comfortable, but the cold doesn’t bother him (I mean, he lived in Snowpoint City for a while).

▸ MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS? Many acquaintances are where Gary thrives. Having loads of people he knows on the street. Being able to walk past and have a short conversation and wave. The attention is great. But he does cherish his few close friends.

▸ READING OR PLAYING A GAME? He’d much rather spend his time reading a book or researching something than playing a game. Honestly he’s not much for games to begin with. He’d rather watch a movie.

QUESTIONNAIRE

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS? Being a jackass? Like, he just says shit sometimes that he probably shouldn’t say and it gets him into shit with a lot of people. He also tends to overwork himself.

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM? You could say his parents, but honestly he really didn’t know his parents before they were gone.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS? Despite the outcome the Silver Conference is an oddly fond memory in hindsight. Remembering how much he’d grown to get to that point was invigorating.

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL? Absolutely not. He might be a jackass but he’s not a killer.

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN? Quiet. Scarily quiet. He tends to lock himself up and is unable to function properly. Choosing to cave in on himself. He doesn’t like people seeing him like this and he’ll do whatever he can to get the fuck out. He doesn’t normally cry and usually channels his sadness into anger, but on the rare occasion he does it’s a pretty gross sob.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE? It depends on the person? He can, but he usually won’t. If he trusts anyone with his life it’s his pokemon. People are fleeting, his partners are forever.

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE? Once again...oddly quiet. He gets soft. His eyes loose their sharp edge. He moves slower and more deliberate. Protective. He gets very protective. He’s the person to wake up in for morning spooning his partner, burring his face into the back of their neck and mumbling good mornings and I love yous. He likes hand holding and quiet hugs. Soft cheek smooches and passionate kisses. He just really wants to prove to you how much he cares about you.

tagged by: @aquaffensive

tagging: idk man take it from me?

#B; Headcanons #Long post

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