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#you can ALSO pry them from my cold dead hands

oldhalloweentape · 2 days

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🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader headcanons⛏️

(Start of Romantic Relationship Pt. II Edition!)

(Not my picture!)

(Not much to say at the moment, hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!)

(Pt. I)

- Ok so, in comparison to the more common outdoor dates, indoor dates are just as eventful, especially movie dates.

- Alright so, I think out of the other genres, horror is their favorite out of the bunch, with an emphasis on the older and more dated ones. The ones with folklore and culture references being an all time favorite.

- After all, folklore is a kind of history that can give a person insight into the life and tribulations people from different periods and eras had to deal with.

- Anyway, I believe Sloane loves to just overanalyze these kinds of movies, having to restrain themselves from doing so while you two are still watching the movie.

- Has an obvious love for the Mummy movies, you’d have to pry that from my cold, dead, and mummified hands.

- As much as they love it, they still get a bit miffed about inaccuracies that seem so obvious to them. You have to remind them that movie people don’t exactly care for such things as passionately as they do.

- It doesn’t stop at folklore themed movies, or even the horror genre, I mean movies in general are parts of history solidified in amber to them, and they reasonably like indulging in them.

- They especially love to be doing it with you, an arm wrapped around your shoulders, teaching circles onto the skin of your arm as they shove popcorn into their mouth.

- Avid popcorn lover, eats up most of it the second they get their mitts on the bowl. Make sure they get their own bowl because they can and will try to gobble it all up.

- Thinks they’re slick with it too, like goes and kisses your head as they take a healthy handful from your bowl, shoveling it into their mouth hastily, and proceeds to laugh with a full mouth as you smack them on the chest when you realize what they did.

- Besides that, there are also other activities, for example, Lego dates, specifically making things like Lego bouquets.

- Considering you both might not have the time to tend to actual plants if you’re both either in Overwatch or as archeologists, legos are a nice stand-in.

- The overall idea of them never wilting or needing to be thrown away is plus as well!

- They may get distracted more than once, lose a couple pieces, but the end product is generally sound and looks mostly like the image on the box. They’re so proud of themselves about it too.

- Yet another thing they’re proud of, a vase they made at a pottery class date you guys decided to do just because.

- It’s another way for them to talk about the history of pottery and the use of clay, getting too caught up with what they were saying more than once.

- In the end they were able to produce a vase, a bit misshapen but nice and sturdy.

- It becomes the vase you guys use for the Lego bouquet. Yet another way to remember those moments between the two of you.

- They’re used to doing things that take physical exertion, but will always have a great time while dating you, being able to share anything and everything that loosely reminds them of that particular situation.

- In a nutshell, every date can be extremely fun for the two of you, which only solidifies the connection between the two of you and the desire to have you as a permanent staple in their life.

(Hope I'll be able to conjure something else for the first kiss and beginning relationship pt. III!)

#Spotify #overwatch 2 #overwatch x reader #venture overwatch #venture x reader #venture ow2

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emilysibyl · 2 years

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to be clear I’m very much not mad at henry cavill for leaving and I’m not even mad at liam hemsworth for wanting to take the role but— and I mean this very disrespectfully— what in the world are the show runners thinking replacing the main character 4 seasons in?? I would like the minutes of that meeting please

#the real question is:#what does this mean for my joey batey content??#although heaven knows i’m not going anywhere regardless #even if the show jumps the shark I’ve been fixating for a year and a half now #you can pry this fandom from my cold dead hands #also I’m saying it now #I’ll fight anyone who starts harassing either of them over it #geraskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #julian alfred pankratz #the witcher #henry cavill #jaskier #liam hemsworth #the witcher netflix

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myfandomhalf · 4 months

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BSD is the only fandom I know of that would take canon content between a ship and say “that doesn’t count bc it’s fanservice” 💀 what does that even mean?? And yes I’m talking about

This is an actual scene in a movie / manga / light novel. Asagiri was involved and supervised the whole thing. It HAPPENED. It’s CANON. Wdym it “doesn’t count”??? Who decided to write this off as fanservice?? Like you guys are taking one of the most canon gay scenes and saying it doesn’t count bc it’s too gay so therefore it must be fanservice. You really think they had a meeting like “we should do something nice for the skk shippers let’s have Dazai and Chuuya be super gay” you think Asagiri with his track record would do/allow that?? You think he’d throw in some unnecessary yaoi just as a treat?? Please bffr.

If this happened with any m/f ship it would be treated as genuine ship content. Hell, if this happened with bakudeku half the fandom would rejoice and the other half would be beyond livid and disgusted but they wouldn’t say “doesn’t count it’s just fanservice”

#skk #soukoku #bungou stray dogs #and what makes me angry is that skk shippers also call it a fanservice scene #the scene has merit in its own right #it’s important to demonstrate just how deep their bond and trust goes #and the way they look at each other is that gentle bc they want US to know #the READERS that skk DONT hate each other #even if they never admit it they want us to know #you’re seriously doing them a disservice by writing off the importance of this scene #you can pry dead Apple is canon from my cold dead hands #this manga is for adults for a reason 🙄#aka children miss nuance unless it’s directly told to their faces

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exy-shmexy · 1 year

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Aaron letting himself collapse on the floor after an intense footwork practice session where Kevin breathed down everyone’s necks so they would be perfect for finals.

His lungs are on fire, his legs have the consistency of jelly left in the sun for too long, and he is exhausted from all the assignments and tests he has had to work on and study for. As soon as Wymack whistles the end of practice, he tosses his helmet away, falls to his knees first, then willingly lets gravity pull him down until he’s sprawling on his back. He doesn’t care one bit. He’s just tired. He hears footsteps coming his way.

Matt appears from above him, looming high, and looking just as rough as he is. “You good buddy?” he asks. They’ve gotten closer ever since Aaron switched dorms with Neil. Aaron nods silently.

Matt stretches his hand outfor Aaron to take but he shakes his head. “The floor is great right now,” Aaron wheezes.

Matt snorts. Then he does something Aaron didn’t see coming. He crouches and lets himself lay down next to him. “Huh,” Matt says after a beat. “The floor is great right now indeed.”

Aaron stares at him, wondering what’s going on.

Before he can figure it out, Nicky sprawls on Matt’s other side. “Goddammit, I’m fucking parched,” his cousin says through ragged breaths. “Are we having a floor party? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“You just invited yourself,” Aaron answers. There is no heat in his voice.

“Oh Maaatt,” Dan’s voice comes from somewhere on Aaron’s left. She flops down on top of her boyfriend. “I can’t stand up anymore. Day is gonna be the end of me.”

“He’s gonna be the end of us,” Nicky cries dramatically.

“You should thank him. Erik is gonna love those thick thighs,” Matt smiles.

“Got anything you want to admit to the general public, Boyd?” Nicky fires back, playful grin on his lips.

“Keep your flirting away from here,” Aaron groans.

And then the bane of his existence appears in his field of vision, Andrew silent by his side. “You flirt with Katelyn all day long, that’s rich of you to say.”

“Fuck off, Josten.”

“Can’t face the truth?”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Aaron cannot add anything else as a full water bottle lands on his chest.

“Drink,” Andrew commands quietly Aaron grumbles. He opens the bottle. But he freezes. Because Andrew sits down next to him and tugs Neil down on the floor with him. The redhead willingly lets him and soon enough, half the team is on the floor surrounding Aaron.

Renee, who until then had been helping Allison clean up the court, calls Kevin to join them. It takes a lot of convincing before he joins them too, but eventually all the Foxes are there in a circle. Aaron ignores the feeling in his chest. He ignores the fact that despite thinking he would always be alone, he now has a family, no matter how dysfunctional. He won’t admit it out loud—not yet at least—but he is grateful for every single one of them.

Even Neil, no matter how hard he denies it.

#I'm having very strong Aaron Minyard feels right now can you tell?#He deserves a family that loves him and cares for him #also I hc that he and Neil become besties years down the line like come on they have the same sarcasm and sense of humor #((also they have Andrew in common))#anyway I love the Foxes being friends and you can pry them from my cold dead hands #aftg #all for the game #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds #nicky hemmick

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nerevar-quote-and-star · 2 months

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Yet another wild crackship between my LDB and some Skyrim dumbo, but this time it's General Tullius, and it actually gets madder from there

Look, a lot of this surprised me too. It sure surprised @elder-dragon-reposes and yet it makes sense and that's the strange beauty of it

He could be forgiven for not seeing her at Helgen. Between Ulfric's capture and the following dragon attack, Tullius had his hands full with escaped prisoners and a town in ruins. Not to mention Elenwen's attempts to take over his execution. One half-elf caught in the crossfire was below his attention at the time. When she came into Castle Dour, a cold wind in her wake as she spoke about fire and death, he had no choice but to pay attention to her. Especially when she brought up things like "peace" and "ceasefire." This Last Dragonborn was out of her mind.

Yet somehow, she led him into an agreement to meet with the Stormcloaks at High Hrothgar.

Tullius isn't quite sure he likes that. She's as double-edged as any Thalmor diplomat with her words. As noble as her intentions appear on the surface, he's not sure he can trust her.

At High Hrothgar, the Last Dragonborn, Leara, leads both sides into an agreement where no one gets what they want, but no one is worse off, and she plans to trap a dragon in a castle.

She . . . plans to trap a dragon in a castle.

Tullius knows he was sent to Skyrim to tame the rebellion, but no one ever prepared him for how maddening the people of Skyrim were. No one is as maddening as the Nords' hero. Tullius cannot understand her. He's not sure he wants to, all things considered.

The Legate is amused by his consternation. He knows this even without her saying anything. But Tullius is worried. This Leara has the power to sway Skyrim in whatever way she chooses, and if she joins the Stormcloaks, then he has a feeling that the Empire might lose more than Skyrim before all is over.

He keeps an ear out for the Dragonborn's movements. His spy network throughout Skyrim is extensive: If she breathes in Windhelm's direction, if she says anything about the Civil War, then he'll need to be ready. This woman has slain dragons. He doesn't want to see what she'll do to a legion of mortal men. Tullius needs to be ready.

Tullius is not ready when Leara walks into Castle Dour again, armorless and prim as she waltzs into his war room. Legate Rikke greets her, but Tullius pretends to give half an ear. He looks like he's going through reports, but he's trying to keep an eye on the anomaly in the room.

Legate Rikke and the Dragonborn talk quietly together. And then the Dragonborn leaves and Tullius finally puts down his paperwork. Legate Rikke is frowning.

"What did she want?"

The Legate's attention snaps to him.

"She wanted to know about our support from Cyrodiil, sir." "Support?" "She mentioned your inability to negotiate a peace settlement, General."

Tullius recalled that. He'd told the Dragonborn he couldn't do more than accept Ulfric's surrender. But why did the Dragonborn want to know about the Imperials' ability to negotiate with the rebels? Didn't she already get her peace treaty and trap her dragon?

Tullius cannot wrap his head around her. Everything his spies have reported paints her as kindness. Even the coldest Nords seem to thaw around her. But Tullius can't base his understanding of such a power player like the Dragonborn on reports and a handful of interactions. He'd have to speak with her himself.

The Winking Skeever is busy when he steps in. A few heads turn, but otherwise, no one pays Tullius any particular attention. The Dragonborn isn't difficult to find, either: She's at a corner table with her nose buried in a dusty book.

Tullius makes his way over to her.

The Dragonborn is surprised to see him but still invites Tullius to sit at her table.

"I assume this is about my discussion with your legate earlier."

She's perceptive. But Tullius already knew that.

"Do you always discuss politics in a bar?"

At his question, the Dragonborn offers a little half-smile, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Do you?"

No. Honestly, Tullius couldn't recall the last tie he even visited a bar or tavern other than while traveling. Perhaps he was working too late, but between the Civil War, Elenwen, the dragons, and (maybe) the Dragonborn, he couldn't afford to slack off. Why else would Tullius chase the Dragonborn down to the local inn?

"Have you read much about Skyrim?"

Her question surprises him.

"War commentaries mostly. Military history."

The nod of her precise head is measured as if she expected that response. Marking her page, she closes her book and shows him the cover. It's some thick tome he's never heard of, but the knotwork dragon design around the edges breathes of old Nordic craftsmanship.

"As Dragonborn . . . [she pauses for a long moment] . . . As Dragonborn, I am highly invested in the preservation of the Empire and Skyrim."

She chews her lip.

Tullius almost asks if she's about to join the Legion. He can't deny that he'd hoped that would be her ultimate decision, but sitting here across from the Dragonborn as she was now, deliberating over words and tapping her book's cover, Tullius knew she wasn't about to swear fealty to the Emperor.

When she continues, she speaks slowly.

"General Tullius, would you be willing to help me? I need to reach out to people in the Imperial City about a peace summit, and I don't know where to begin."

A peace summit?

"I take it Ulfric didn't put you up to this?"

Her frown is surprising.

"No, he didn't. I asked him."

The Dragonborn asked Ulfric if she could talk to the Empire about a peace summit?

Before he could ask what in Oblivion that was supposed to mean, the server brought a tea service to the table. Just as quickly, he was gone.

"Would you care for a cup, General? I'm afraid all they have is lavender honey." "I . . . would like that--" "Leara."

She supplied. Her lips quirked.

So Tullius found himself ensconced at a table in The Winking Skeever and discussing different politicians and diplomats back in the Imperial City with the Dragonborn – Leara. He's halfway through his second cup when she admits that she's trying to find a peaceful resolution to the Civil War that could please everyone. He calls her a hopeful idiot, but she smiles.

"You can't please everyone." "Well, I don't think I can please the Dominion, but I can tie them in legal knots."

Leara wiggles her fingers at him, her rings glittering in the candlelight, and Tullius finds himself speechless.

If the Dragonborn – Leara – can tie the Thalmor up with a loophole, how imminent would their retaliation be? Tullius is at once intrigued and put off.

She was mad.

"Here, you'll want to write . . ."

But by the Divines, he was going to help her anyway, wasn't he? If Leara could talk Ulfric off his warpath, then maybe there was something to her hair-brained scheme.

Tullius sees Leara a few days later. She's been to the Blue Palace and the Bards College, she tells him when he meets her again at the 'Skeever. She's combing through maps and treaties, drafting letters, and making lists. Her mind is running at speeds Tullius can't comprehend, and yet she keeps looking to him for advice.

As Leara stirs a lump of sugar into her snowberry spice tea and peruses another list, Tullius wonders if she did this with Ulfric when she went to ask him to consider peace.

Her penmanship is as poised as the rest of her. He cannot see her against the harsh stony backdrop of Windhelm, amidst the snow and vitriol. She's too civilized for Skyrim. She's almost too civilized for Cyrodiil, but Tullius won't think of that.

He doesn't have a chance to give it much thought anyway when she's asking him about neutrality and the terms of the Concordat.

It's late when Tullius leaves her the second time. As he leaves, she's carrying a stack of papers upstairs. She has a hopeful lift in her step.

Tullius almost smiles.

Almost.

The next morning, Legate Rikke drops a new report on his desk. It's from Captain Aldis.

"What's this, Legate?" "There was a break-in, sir." "And we're concerned with this, because?"

Legate Rikke's jaw tightens, her eyes are wide. Whatever it is has unsettled her.

"It was at The Winking Skeever."

She sighs. Heavy. It's a familiar frustration.

"General, I believe that the Thalmor were exercising their Concordat-given rights."

A pit settles in Tullius's stomach.

"They took the Dragonborn, sir." "On what grounds?" "It doesn't say. sir. It doesn't even mention the Thalmor at all. But you know–"

Tullius doesn't hear the rest of the sentence because he realizes his mistake. He should never have discussed the possibility of an armistice with Leara in a public room. Who overheard her? Who saw Leara's notes and lists and books? Who ratted her out to the Thalmor?

Tullius's fist clenches, his knuckles pale. The one person with a Divine's chance in Oblivion to bring a favorable resolution to the Civil War and the Thalmor took her like every Talos worshipper the Empire was supposed to turn a blind eye too.

He paces around his office. Legate Rikke has left him alone, and now all Tullius can do is think and walk. Turn. Think and walk. Turn. The cycle repeats throughout his office. He only suspects that the Thalmor took Leara. Without concrete proof, he can't accuse them or he'll risk something far more uncomfortable than paperwork. But if he does nothing, then every hope for peace in Skyrim vanishes in the Dragonborn's wake.

Tullius stopped in the middle of his office, standing at a crossroads. Was it possible to ascertain that the Thalmoor abducted Leara and to request her freedom without bringing Elenwen down on his head? Probably not. But . . .

Tullius recalled the wide eyes, the fear swimming in the teary blue when Leara was faced with Elenwen at High Hrothgar. At the time, Tullius didn't think much of the Dragonborn's aversion to her. Most people hated the Thalmor Ambassador on a good day. But the terror that flickered in Leara's face before she grew cold and distant and manipulated the entire table to her own ends came back to him.

No, Tullius knew Elenwen personally had the Dragonborn. There was a history there he couldn't see, but it peeked at the edges of his vision in brilliant horror.

Elenwen had Leara, and she wouldn't let the half-elf go lightly.

If Leara could cheat an entire room of warring politicians and soldiers while ensuring a truce, then Tullius could sure as Hell try to manipulate Elenwen.

Sitting at his desk, the General ruled out any official Legion channels. Those would be tied back to him and ruin any chance Leara had of negotiating her armistice. Something under the table, then.

Mercenaries were messy. Robbing Elenwen would take a different hand. He grimaces and drafts a letter.

General . . .

The messenger hawk returns the next evening. Tullius doesn't want to think about why the hawk returned so quickly. He just hoped his charade would hold.

(Writing Galmar Stone-Fist of all people to encourage a Stormcloak raid on Northwatch Keep was something Tullius knew he could never live down if it got back to any of his superiors in Cyrodiil. He couldn't trust that General Stone-Fist would take an anonymous tip at face value, but as Leara soliloquised late that last night,)

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

It's four long days of giving only half his attention to his job before an Imperial scout reports that the Stormcloaks attacked the Thalmor fortress of Northwatch. When the Legion got there, nothing was left but smoldering ruins.

"They had a dragon, sir."

Tullius didn't want to know how they had a dragon, but he was optimistic that it meant Leara made it out of there alive.

With the Stormcloaks, but alive.

He sleeps through the night for the first time in over a week. When Tullius wakes up, he wonders how he could turn to the rebels to save the Dragonborn. Effective, yes, but it went against everything he was supposed to represent.

But she's alive.

She would be dead or worse off if he hadn't done it.

Tullius uses that thought to bolster himself through the coming weeks.

Then, a letter addressed to Tullius comes by way of Whiterun of all places. He recognizes the slender script curling his name across the paper. It's a short letter asking him to retrieve her belongings from her room at the 'Skeever. Two things stand out to him: The first is the thank you. Tullius cannot tell what Leara means by it because he knows that Stone-Fist didn't know who sent the tip about Northwatch. And yet there's a tearstain on the parchment, small and alone as if any others were quickly dashed away after the first one fell. The second is that all her books, papers, the things she worked on for her peace talk were all hidden in a panel behind the bookshelf in her boardroom.

Tullius didn't even think of Leara losing all her work. He was more concerned about getting her out. He was more worried about her than anything else.

Tullius buries his face in his hands.

This was a familiar feeling. It'd been years since the last time he felt like this.

Although, Tullius gave himself a wry smile, he doubted he'd have betrayed the Empire for the Countess of Anvil's cousin.

Tullius goes early the next morning to retrieve Leara's things, hidden or otherwise. A member of his spy network is tasked with getting the parcels to a Lydia in Whiterun. Then Tullius watches as every connection he has to the Dragonborn disappears out the doors of Castle Dour.

It's back to the everyday humdrum of war, then.

Until, some months later, a familiar half-elf comes into Solitude. Now, she's accompanied by a dark-haired Nord woman in heavy armor. Her stormy expression and hawkish eyes remind Tullius of Rikke at times. Leara introduces her as Lydia, her housecarl. Then Leara is handing him a folio of papers.

"I've been corresponding with some of the Elder Council. I'm planning a summit in Whiterun."

He takes the folio from her.

"What's this?" "My draft for a permanent peace treaty. I thought that since you helped me, you'd like to peruse it. Of course, I need to get it to Jarl Elisif when you're finished."

That Leara is offering to let him be a part of her peace treaty isn't lost on Tullius. He sets the folio on the table but leaves his hand on top, protecting it.

"I can come back for it tomorrow." "I'll get it back to you tonight."

Legate Rikke coughs, obviously. Tullius adds,

". . . we can discuss it over dinner, if you like?"

Leara's smile is full.

"I would like that."

They don't end up talking much about the draft. But Tullius gives Leara some of his favorite brandy after their dinner of roast lamb and stewed vegetables. Her giggle is light and airy, and her hand is cool like spring water when he takes it across the table.

Perhaps he drank more than he should have, but liquid courage was a reassuring friend.

At the end of the night, Leara, tipsy and yet all grace, presses a petal soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. She pulls away.

His hands slide up her arms, callused fingers catching on the soft linen of her sleeves. And he pulls her back and kisses her, full and properly on the mouth.

Leara tastes of tea and winter and something floral and frosted. There's more than magic in her mouth – there's music and mercy. If Tullius wasn't drunk before, he finds himself intoxicated on Leara.

She strokes his face, smiling, always smiling, and then backs away. Her eyes are bright and liquid and as deep as Lake Rumare. In the low glow of golden orange firelight, she is beautiful.

He loves her.

He doesn't say it, and soon she's gone, slipping through doors into the night. An angel passing from the room.

The next day, he finds that she left him her address. It had been a long time since Tullius even tried to write a love letter. They were never his strong suit, but Leara had a way of inspiring madness in him. He wrote her.

And Leara wrote him back.

Again and again and again.

Tullius doesn't expect for his presence to be needed when the summit is called in Whiterun. The Empire has its own group of delegates to negotiate the terms of Skyrim's division. But still, Elisif the Fair says that General Tullius has been asked to attend. The young queen seems as if she can't quite believe it, but she was often wide-eyed and overwhelmed as it was.

(Maybe Julia was right. He should listen to Elisif more. But pretty soon, it was likely Tullius would never see the Queen of Solitude again.)

Leara is there in Whiterun, laying out the terms of the Armistice with the light and delicacy he'd come to expect from her. How many others here knew she was anxious that things would crumble apart, that things would come to blows, and that the war would escalate for all her efforts to temper the fire?

Ulfric's face is a dark stormcloud, but somehow the Jarl of Windhelm appears to hold his tongue around the Dragonborn. He watches her, defers to her, and in return, Leara smiles at him.

Tullius is simply in an advisory position for the Imperial delegates to mine information on the state of the Civil War and the Imperial Legion. He never speaks to Ulfric, and seldom to Leara during the weeklong summit. But he sees the Jarl speak to her between sessions. Leara is quiet and nods. Her eyes are faraway and thoughtful.

Tullius remembers that when she first brought the idea of the summit to him, Leara mentioned that she convinced Ulfric to agree to it. For the first time, Tullius wonders how Leara went about winning Ulfric Stormcloak to her side.

His chest burns.

When the Armistice is signed and Skyrim divided in two–

"Divided, you can finally be united."

Leara said.

–there is a feast. Leara is in demand all night. Tullius watches from the sidelines, some Cyrodilic brandy in hand as he watches one person after another flit around her, bees buzzing around a blooming rose. After a while, Tullius gets up and retires to the quiet of the Dragonsreach porch.

He isn't out there long when the doors open again. From the dark stairwell where he sat, he saw Leara flit by, orbited by Ulfric.

Tullius's hand tightened on his glass.

"You must be relieved that's over." "I'm glad we could reach a resolution."

She deflected Ulfric's concern with a wave of her hand.

But Tullius knew the truth: She was terrified of the summit. She was terrified she'd fail.

"What will you do now?"

Leara's question broke through Tullius's thoughts.

Ulfric shifted.

"There's much to do. Skyrim hasn't been in a state like this since the Second Era. I'll need to work quickly to bring stability to the east before we can truly reap any of tonight's rewards." "You have a busy schedule, Jarl Ulfric! [her laugh is musical] Even when my work ends, you still have so much to do!" "Leara . . ."

There's a hesitation in Ulfric's voice that Tullius never would have imagined from the man who Shouted High King Torygg apart. Leara's responding,

"Yes, Ulfric?"

is careful.

"I was hoping that you would come to Windhelm with me. To help me." "Help you? As an advisor? Certainly, but–" "Not as an advisor. Not . . . as you're thinking. Leara, surely you must know what I feel for you." "Oh."

If Tullius didn't fear being caught, he'd have stormed from the porch. Or over to Ulfric and pushed him off. Or something. His blood was rushing in his ears.

Certainly, he and Leara hadn't truly defined what it was between them. This week was the first time he'd seen her since kissing her that night in Solitude, and in this week, they'd hardly been alone together long enough to discuss anything beyond the summit and the usual pleasantries.

But her letters were candid and funny and full of ideas. Her mind spilled across the page in curling and shifting lines.

Tullius knew then that while he had Leara's mind, there was every possibility that Ulfric had her heart. She was as divided as Skyrim was.

"Ulfric–" "While Skyrim was at war, I knew I couldn't give you the attention you deserved. But now that we can have some peace, I wish to ask you for your hand. Leara, you ignite a fire in my chest that burns my heart when you are near. Please do me the honor of agreeing to marry me."

There's silence. Long, drawn-out silence. Somewhere on the plains, a wolf howls. Its cry echoes the pain in Tullius's chest.

"Ulfric . . ."

Leara's voice is choked, emotional but she is forcing it down.

"Ulfric, you're very dear to me, but I can't marry you."

It was only Ulfric's loud,

"You can't? Why?"

That covered the sound of Tullius's brandy glass slipping to shatter on the stone stairs.

Leara hesitated.

"I can't give you my heart because it belongs to someone else. I can't take it back." "Who?"

Leara quieted.

"Please, Leara, if you won't marry me, then allow me the courtesy of knowing who I lost you to!" "I–"

Leara choked.

Tullius's heart sped up as his hands shook. He was as anxious as Ulfric to hear her answer.

"You won't like it." "Who is it? Galmar? I know he was the one to pull you from that Thalmor pit."

Divines. That would just be the cherry on top of this entire fiasco, wouldn't it?

"No, not . . . It's . . . General Tullius."

The silence that followed was more deafening than any that proceeded it. Even from the darkened stairwell, Tullius could since the thunder around Ulfric, rumbling silent and yet violent.

"You won't marry me because you're in love with Tullius?" "If that's how you want to put it, yes, that's it." "Leara – I, he . . ."

For once, all of Ulfric's fine speeches seemed to fail him.

"Please don't be upset."

Leara's voice is as soothing as the first spring rain, as far apart from Ulfric's hurricane as possible.

There was a rustle of skirts.

"You are a very important person to me, for more than you can possibly know, but I can't give you the love you want. It's not mine to give you." "But Tullius–" "Has been so vital to me during these last several months. We would not have this peace if not for him. I needed him." "I need you." "I know, but I've given you all I can. I can't give you any more."

Tullius peeks around the corner far enough to see Leara on her tiptoes. She whispers something in Ulfric's ear, then presses a fleeting kiss to his cheek. Tullius ducks back just in time to be hidden as Ulfric turns and leaves the porch. The doors shut behind him with a whisper of finality.

"You can come out now, General."

Tullius's knees are stiff as he gets up from the steps. Leara is waiting for him in the middle of the porch, her red hair a dark contrast against the white gold of her skin and the pale ivory of her gown. She's aetheric in the moon and aurora lights.

"I hope you finished your brandy before the glass fell."

His neck grows warm with embarrassment.

"Is that how you knew I was there?"

Leara's coy smile was her only answer. Yes, then. Well.

"Ulfric Stormcloak proposed to you." "Yes, he did." "And you turned him down." "Yes, I did. " "Why . . ."

Her hand was on the side of his face. She was perhaps a hairsbreadth taller than him, maybe an inch, but her hand felt so small against his face that Tullius couldn't help but reach up and clasp it with his own for fear that it slip away.

"I thought you were eavesdropping." "Well, I wouldn't say that–" "And, therefore, would know why I turned Ulfric down."

Tullius tries to swallow, but his throat is tight. Leara's hand is cool against his skin, and he takes comfort in that.

"You love me." "Yes, I do."

Her smile is radiant.

Tullius's hand slips from Leara's, but then his arms are around her waist, pulling her into him. She is slim and cool and everything a flower in winter might be. He buries his nose in her neck, amidst the frost and flowers.

"I love you."

She doesn't reply. She only tightens her arms around his torso. They stand there in the quiet of the night, away from the celebrations but togehter under the stars.

Later, when Tullius returns to Solitude for the last time, he packs his things for the return to the Imperial City. He takes his bags to the docks.

And there Leara is waiting for him, Lydia her housecarl in tow. She smiles at him, full and vivid.

"You're late. My trunks are already on board. Right, Lydia?"

Lydia rolls her eyes.

"All eleven of them, my Thane."

Tullius chuckles, quiet.

Leara's hand finds his, and he helps her up the gangplank of the Imperial Naval ship. It would be a long voyage, but Leara had never sailed before, so that would be their mode of transportation back to the Imperial City.

"What will we do when we get there?"

Leara's question is teasing and free of the burden of being Dragonborn and peacemaker. There were still the Thalmor to worry about, but after the ruin of Northwatch and the signing of the armistice, Tullius hoped they'd think thrice before going after Leara again.

"I'll buy you expensive teas and you'll drain my accounts on tea and books."

Her giggle rang out amidst the sounds of the ship preparing to leave the harbor.

"Oh yes, that must be why I've gone and married you."

Tullius pulled his wife to his side and slipped his arm around her waist.

"Must be."

It couldn't possibly be that she was the most maddening thing in the world and she drove him mad by proximity.

Madly in love.

What nonsense.

fin

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cxldtyrant · 23 days

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I know I missed International Asexuality Day yesterday, but this is the prime opportunity for me to tell you all now that Salza (or at least, my version of him) is aromantic-asexual. He is completely uninterested in a romantic relationship, content with the close bonds he has with his team, and is a sex-repulsed asexual.

For that matter, nobody on the Armored Squadron is heterosexual. Dore is a masc-leaning bisexual, and Neiz is demisexual and homoromantic. They also happen to be not-so secret boyfriends, since it would be inappropriate for colleagues to be in a relationship and all. It's pretty much an open secret though, and Cooler knows, he just doesn't care as long as they don't let it affect their duties.

#[musings; hidden depths]#[pto; armored squadron]#[I never could ship Cooler/Salza romantically]#[I have my own headcanons about the depth of their relationship]#[but also I love the idea that Salza is the closest thing Cooler has to a best friend]#[because they both radiate “cultured” (nerdy) theater kid energy]#[with a touch of repressed goth for Cooler]#[also yes I am back on my Dore/Neiz propaganda train]#[you can try prying them from my cold dead hands]#[they are boyfriends you can't stop me]

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codecicle · 7 months

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i am still going so insane over the Guys man AUGH

Hi soup!! :) Random question but:

Do you ever think about how deeply they cared about each other? Wilbur knew everyone else there exclusively while he was infected, and yet he put nothing but trust in them during a life or death scenario. During his final moments, Charlie showed him unwavering kindness by listening to his rant and sparing him the pain of transformation by snapping his neck. Had Wilbur ever experienced something that genuinely caring and sweet before? If the apocalypse forced pure violence to become the greatest show of love you could give to someone, how do you think Wilbur felt when these abnormal strangers his life had happened to cross paths with went out of their way to search for him when he was lost, to kill for him when he was in danger, and ultimately to sacrifice their own safety and stability to preserve his? Do you think he felt guilt despite it all? He was infected after all, nothing but a liability, constantly endangering the team because he couldn't admit to himself that it was over; that he was a danger instead of something (something. not someone. at that point he could at least admit to himself that he wasn't human, whether that be because he was infected or because no human in any definition of the word would be as selfish and cruel as he was from not telling them) that could help. Do you think he was smiling as he faked his death? Do you think he honestly thought the zombies would kill him and he would finally do something useful for them? Or do you think he knew deep down he would survive the zombie encounter and he was only hoping the zombies would fuck him up bad enough that when the time came he inevitably killed his friends, they didn't recognize the face taking all their hopes and dreams out from underneath them because of one "tiny little scratch" and their misplaced trust.

Do you ever think about Tommy? Do you think about how he had seemingly finally found a family, and how he looked away from his older brother figure for half a second to try and be useful by keeping morale up, only to walk back into the room with the man he trusted the most holding Wilburs dead body and grieving? Do you think he resented Charlie in that moment? Or did he just hate himself? None of this would have happened if he had just been there a couple seconds sooner after all, maybe he could have done something. Do you think about him having to walk up to what he thought was Wilburs corpse and not have the time to say his goodbyes? The zombies were coming, and all he could hear outside of Charlie's shaky disassociated voice was the deafening sound of zombies slowly getting louder. Do you think about him holding Wilbur as gently as he could, knowing carrying his body to be devoured would be the last moments he could get to grieve him before being forced to run again, abandoning the man he loved like a brother for what felt like the millionth time since knowing him. Do you think about the way his jokes got scarcer since Wilbur was gone? How he stopped being as funny for the rest of the time they were in that base? Do you think it was because he couldn't bring himself to find humor in such a dark scenario, or do you think it was because he knew deep down he didn't have a real reason to try and keep himself and the group alive anymore. His reason to keep going was devoured by the zombies and time stopped, why should he care anymore? Do you think he froze when Wilbur hopped out of the trunk? Do you think he mirrored the same smile his brother died with when he was devoured? Was it because the torment was finally over? Or was it because deep down all he wanted was to be with him again, even in death?

What about Phil? He looked at Wilbur the way the proudest and most fearful dad would look at his extraordinary son. But unlike the others, Phil grieved Wilbur long before he was ever even gone. As soon as he saw the bite and the way Wilburs life was slowly leaving his eyes he knew that it was over. Phil ran gauntlets, running inbetween zombies in camouflage to open door after door, opportunity after opportunity, just to keep his family alive. All he wanted the whole time was to keep everyone else alive, and set them up to thrive after he was gone. Do you think Phil knew he was going to die the whole time? He was the slowest of the group, he was the weakest, he didn't have any special gifts or abilities, and he couldn't fend for himself as well as he could fend for others. Do you think he was so serious the whole time because he wanted to spend the last moments with his son, and because he knew he wouldn't have another chance to be of use? He wasn't surviving for himself, he was surviving to keep everyone else alive. Do you think if they ever actually succeeded in escaping, that he would be the one to take night watch every time? That he would be the one to give up his food rations so others wouldn't go hungry? That he would sacrifice every part of himself before he stole the chance at life from someone that he thought deserved it better? Do you think when he finally got the chance to keep everyone else alive through fighting off the hoard by himself, he went down through tears? Or do you think he matched the other members of his family and fought them head on with nothing but a spiked golf club, his pride, and a smile to match his two sons?

What about Ranboo? Do you ever think about them? Do you think about the way they seemed to be the only person truly in reality the whole time? They were the only one refusing to do the bits, to tag along with the jokes, yet they were also the only person to kill the zombies, or hold any weapons. Do you ever think about how he had the most sincerely human reaction to all of this? Maybe the reason he refused to kill the zombies was because they so closely resembled himself, and they couldn't bring themself to kill something that looked so much like a real person. He knew they weren't alive, he knew he was constantly in danger, yet they looked into the zombies eyes and saw the blank void staring back at him and chose pity and kindness above all. Do you think when they said everyone around them was insane they really meant it? He seemed strangely grounded in reality at all times, while everyone else disassociated to get themselves through the killing, and the way blood splattered on everyone's clothes dragging the physical remains of their deepest regrets along with them to their deaths. Do you think they put the gun down, finally feeling safe in that Uber knowing no zombie would be able to catch them? Do you think he was glad he never had to actually use it? Were they happy they could keep their humanity as they escaped? Do you think he hoped for a better life after it all? Do you think he looked into Wilburs eyes as he was devoring Tommy, his brother that Wilbur cared for so so much, and they still couldn't bring themselves to pull the trigger? Do you think in their attempt to keep their humanity, he indirectly robbed everyone he cared about of theirs?

And Charlie. Ohhhh Charlie. Do you ever think about how hard he fought? He knew how to create makeshift weapons, he knew parkour, he knew how to fight and shoot and fend for himself, and yet he didn't survive despite all of it. Do you ever think about how he trusted and loved Wilbur so deeply, yet he was forced to lay down with his arms around him as he started spouting nonsense? Do you think Charlie could think straight as Wilbur slid down and indirectly begged him for mercy? Maybe Charlie wasn't as kind as he once thought, because as he held Wilbur in his arms he slowly realized the only real way out of this nightmare would be without him. Do you ever think about how much Charlie loved him? How he stared at him the whole time, looking with widened and obviously trusting eyes, how he grabbed Wilburs arm and looked at the bite as soon as he noticed something was wrong? Do you ever think about how deeply he must have loved both him and everyone else in the group, and how he had to swallow down his humanity for a moment to gift Wilbur the last of his? Do you think about how he hesitated? He had his head in his arms, Wilbur was very obviously letting it happen, and yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe from his selfishness, and how he couldn't bring himself to kill his closest friend. Or maybe from his selflessness, and him digesting the fact that after this he would be a villain to the rest of the group. None of them knew how far Wilbur was gone, only Charlie noticed, maybe they would walk in on his grief and see nothing but a murderer? Do you think about how despite everything Charlie spared Wilbur from his pain and killed him anyway, helping him the only way he knew how during Wilbur's greatest time of need. Do you think Charlie stayed behind that gate willingly, knowing he wouldn't be able to live with himself after they escaped? Do you think Charlie died thinking he was useful, or he wasn't useful enough. Do you think he truly believed the others would resent him, or do you think he just resented himself with every life he stole. Do you ever think about how Charlie died thinking he saved their lives, not knowing his grief personified would be waiting for the rest of them to undo everything Charlie tried to do during his life? Do you think Charlie died with a smile not because he was happy that his last moments were spent truly believing because of his sacrifice his friends would live, but because he knew he wouldn't have to live with any of the guilt anymore?

idk though :)

#i make yet anothet post just for me 👍#sorry boys #we have mail :]#can you tell zombie!oxeyeduo are my favorites? also sbi is real and true you can pry that from my cold dead hands #SORRY FOR THE RANT LMAO IM ALSO THINKING ABOUT THEM CONSTANTLY!!#im not sure any of this even makes sense but if it does yippie ^_^#nobody understands them like i do. except you but that doesnt count #fuck wait i forgor to call you a petname this post uh uh #hey babygrill. zombie! 👍#yeah there we go :D

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sotiredmostnights · 1 year

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never really understood the whole "these characters just talk to each other 3 times and get married" criticism of the awakening/fates s-rank system...like, correct me if i'm wrong, but isn't that sort of disregarding the entire method of grinding supports?

i thought it was pretty obvious that players were supposed to infer that, each time a character protects another in battle, each time a character attacks an enemy while paired with their prospective partner, and each time they land on one of those special tiles that grant additional support convo tidbits, the characters were growing closer emotionally in a way that could often end in a romantic union

#idk maybe it's just me but i feel like you kinda do need to consider how gameplay elements tie into the support system.#it's really not hard to consider that although each pair has a set number of support convos #that they also interact outside of those scripted convos in a way that builds trust and strengthens bonds #fire emblem #fire emblem awakening #fire emblem fates #fire emblem engage #anyway i love the s rank supports and you can pry them from my cold dead hands

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