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#unless someone has a better idea for their dynamic
jelfish-aether · 3 months
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i have been waiting so long (six days) to dress this guy. welcome charon y’all
dressing room id: 2498197
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sugoi-and-spice · 4 months
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Vox Relationship Headcanons
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Time to strike the iron while the hyperfixation is HOT!
(I mean come ON . Look at this fucking evil dork. I love him).
SFW
It goes without saying that Vox is HUGE on appearances. He does not make his relationships public lightly. His brand as one of the V’s after all is perfection, and he’s not going to go out arm and arm with a person unless they know that.
That being said, especially given his on again off again relationship with Valentino, I could absolutely see him as being the type to fall for a hot mess. 
A very different person with his partner in front of and behind the scenes. When the cameras are off, he’s warm, affectionate, and vulnerable. He’ll share his every insecurity with you, strip himself bare to the bone for you to love and comfort truly and honestly. And he’s an excellent listener too, always available to hold and talk through any problem you have. Your problems are his problems — you’ll work through them together.
When in the public eye however, he can be a downright prick — putting everything, and I do mean everything between you two on the backburner to keep up appearances. He will not hesitate to make jokes at your expense if it means his ratings will go up.
Fights with him are explosive. No, he’s not the type to lay a hand on you, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that he can scream at you within an inch of your life.
Words of Affirmation and Gift Giving are his primary love languages. Specifically, he needs words of affirmation and he loves to give gifts. And holy shit does he give the most uncomfortably lavish gifts. Diamonds, rolexes, new cars — no price is too high for his darling.
Surprisingly, he prefers home dates. Watching a movie on the couch or having a little game night with a bottle of wine. He does genuinely enjoy the authentic time you spend together and he wishes he could have more of it, so the more he can get of that private, intimate time together, the better.
And while he is a man of the future, so theoretically should like video games, I do think he has a certain soft spot for a good old-fashioned board game.
When it comes to video games though, he does tend to gravitate to phone games. 
Vox is from the 1950’s so I do think he prefers a more nuclear family and relationship dynamic. He wants to bring home the bacon and have his partner ready to fry it up in a pan with a dirty martini ready and waiting for him. That being said, he is a man that always looks to the future as well, so he’s by no means above doing chores of his own. At the end of the day, this desire for more traditional relationship roles really comes from a place of needing to be doted on rather than any views he actually has about gender.
The man’s a sucker for a good massage from his partner. This wired up workaholic has knots that you can’t even imagine, so please, offer him a nice bankrupt at the end of the day. He’ll be sure to return the favor tenfold.
A very lovey-dovey drunk. Oh my GOD, he’s so touchy-feely and weepy and just all the y’s. You want a guaranteed cuddle-wuddle session? Load him up with a couple glasses of scotch — you’ll have those chords coiling around you.
And yes, his alcohol of choice is scotch. Scotch, dirty martinis, or a nice oaky chardonnay.
This man wants to get married. Yes, even if he is in hell, the idea of not having to worry about who his next lay or source of connection will come from, having someone that will stand by his side through thick and thin, a partner? Now that’d be the (after)life.
NSFW
BIG fucking praise kink. This man NEEDS you to stroke more than just his bod and his cock, he needs you to stroke his ego too.
“God you’re so good”, “FUCK, you’re so big”, “Nobody can make me feel this way but you, Vox”.
Don’t worry, it’s not just for his own ego. He loves to give praise as much as he receives it. This man is a TALKER in the sack.
“Fuck, fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking good, just like thaaaaat.”
He’s also got a little bit of a degradation kink — but in general, it still feeds into stroking his own ego. Loves to tease and taunt his partner once in a while about what a horny little slut they are, how he loves to see them so desperate and pathetic. Asking his partner, “you’d have anyone right now, wouldn’t you?” just for them to assure him that no, nobody but him will do.
On that note, the man can dish out degrading dirty talk, but he can NOT fucking take it.
Very much a switch. Sure, he loves to fuck, but he’ll just as happily let his partner bend him over his own desk and fuck the shit out of him. A good orgasm is a good orgasm, his ego may be big, but not big enough to get in the way of that.
Big fan of bondage, both on his partner and himself. There are few sights better to him than seeing his partner bound and shibari’d in his own cord and wires, holy shit. But he’ll also never say no when his partner breaks out their own pair of fuzzy handcuffs for him.
He absolutely short-circuits when he cums, so watch out. Sometimes, if he cums hard enough, he may just zap you a bit so watch out.
Favorite position is seated cowgirl. He loves the way he can hold his partner close while ramming as deep into them as possible. Not to mention the fact that either one of them can take over control at any moment. He can thrust up, they can grind down — it’s just the best of all worlds. Not to mention you can do it from his desk chair.
On that note, he’s a big BIG fan of cockwarming. 
LOTS of precum. This HD motherfucker is just a weepy mess.
I can’t explain why, but Vox just seems like an ass man to me.
He’s not necessarily a cuddler after, but he is something of a “savor the moment” kind of guy. He likes to lay in bed (or chair lol) with his partner for a good while afterwards, smoking a cigarette, reveling in some post-nut clarity conversation, just really taking in the moment. His life is so busy at all other times honestly, always looing and speeding to the future. Sex and post-sex are the times where he really does just like to stop and live in the moment.
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calliopeslyrics · 24 days
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firegirl
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pairing: luke castellan x daughter of Hephaestus! reader
word count: 5.2k
warnings: mention/description of drowning, very little angst.
summary: in which a date by the lake goes wrong, including a lack of swim lessons and tearful confessions.
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You’d heard about the stories of the god’s wrath. Hera’s jealousy, Demeter’s wrath, Aphrodite’s envy - your mother had warned you through the tales of Psyche and Io and Persephone long since you were a child wading through fire. A child born of ash and fire, that was what you were. A force of destruction, born only to create with the very hands that burn through flesh and blood.
The stories didn’t mean much at the time, ancient tales of caution now serving as bedtime stories for a little girl that refused to sleep due to constant nightmares. But you should’ve paid better attention, should’ve noticed the urgency in your mothers tone when she warned you again and again that the gods are not forgiving gods.
But maybe facing a jealous goddess’s wrath was better than any other gift your father had given you. Blessed with the knowledge of forgery and fire, you should’ve known that you’d have to stay away from large bodies of water unless you wanted to turn a pool into a hot tub.
You never really learned to swim, not in the way that counted. Sure, you knew how to hold your breath and doggy paddle from one end to another, but your expertise in swimming never extended past the basics. It was something you weren’t so keen on sharing, not when everyone knows how to swim. 
When you were smaller, taking a bath meant going outside and having your mom spray you with the hose before you could turn the water to steam. Pool days meant dipping your toes and fingers in the water, and nothing else.
You can look, but don’t touch, your mom had told after one particular accident. It was your cousin’s birthday party, another pool party to relax during the sweltering days of summer. While your cousins and their friends played chicken and cannonball into the water, you stayed at the edge of the pool, watching and just wishing to feel more than a droplet of water splash onto you.
The gods must have heard your wishing because the next thing you knew, you were submerged into water. Little six year old you in six feet deep water, what could go wrong? You don’t remember much from that day, only that you screamed and splashed and cried and soon the other kids screamed and splashed around you too.
It wasn’t until later that you learned that due to an overheating issue in the pool’s pipes, the pool’s water began to heat up until it was as boiling as the hot tub. A freak accident, the pool company called it after getting bombarded with angry parents threatening to sue. You also learned more years later that your panicked state brought that pool to its near boiling temperature. 
From that day forward, your mom made a strict rule - no more pool parties, no more swim lessons, and no more unnecessary contact with water. It was too dangerous, she said. And you were too young to argue, so you agreed.
It wasn't until you arrived at Camp Half Blood when you realized how much you were missing out because of that rule. The camp itinerary was filled with fun activities that had dangerous monsters sprinkled in between the activities - perfect for someone who has no idea what world they've gotten themselves into.
There was pegasus riding in the morning, then water balloon fights between cabins, some days had sword practice against some monsters in the forest, then a lunch break while the satyrs played ancient songs on their pipes. You often watched other campers jump into the lake during the hot summer days, wondering if you’d ever get to swim freely like they do. 
You quickly learned the dynamic within the camp, at how quickly your life can change with a simple symbol. The day that a fiery hammer hovered over your head was the day that you realized you weren’t alone. Your absent father wasn’t a piece of shit that couldn’t afford child support but the god of fire and forgery - Hephaestus.
All the weird coincidences in your life seemed to make sense. Your constant sweating and overly warm body, your skill with handiwork despite having no experience with tools - it was in your blood to create dangerous flames, to burn and rebuild in the same breath.
The other children of Hephestus didn’t seem to mind having an addition to their cabin, welcoming you with open arms that were stained with grease and oil. They were the siblings you never had, your quirks within the outside world becoming a norm within Cabin 9. 
No one seemed to mind the constant overheating from their bodies or the unfinished projects that were scattered along the floor, no one made a face at the sweat that slipped down your face from a hard day’s work of building and destroying and rebuilding again. It was like you could finally belong somewhere, maybe you could even call it a home.
Your siblings never complained about the countless forgery, the mixture of sweat and smoke clinging onto your clothes. There were more days where grease stained your hands and face, which left you in a sour mood after laundry duty, or when you wished you could skip dinner to finish this project because you’re so close to getting it to work.
Overalls and aprons became your favorite items to wear, your pockets filled with scraps of metal and loose screws that you’ve scrapped from the other cabins. You’ve learned how to 
But despite the warm welcome you received from your siblings and the amazing cabin life you adapted to, you could never shake the jealousy within you when it came to lake days. You’d often spend your time watching the campers with a longing gaze, wishing you could join them in the cool water that left them squealing and laughing when they touched the water.
Luke had suggested you spend time in the lake with him for the afternoon, saying something about needing a day to yourselves. And you agreed - most days seemed to blur together after an influx of Ares children played too roughly amongst themselves. Shields and spears needed modifications, swords needed to be resharpened, even armor needed to be fixed from some mysterious stabbings that appeared along the chest plates. 
So there you were, standing just a couple feet away from the lake, towel in hand as if you were ever going to get into the water. Luke wasted no time getting ready for his swim, as evident by the smears of sunscreen along his nose and cheeks that hadn’t been smoothed properly.
There was something about the lake that always had Luke acting excited. Maybe it was because he could step away from his duties, dropping the mask of confidence that he carried around the younger campers. Or maybe it was the sense of normalcy the lake brought, as if you weren’t demigods fighting for your lives everyday and just a couple of normal teenagers enjoying a hot summer day.
“Aren’t you going to get in?” Luke asked, his calm tone bringing you out of your thoughts. He  gave you a questioning glance at your attire, a simple once over before raising an eyebrow at you. You were still dressed in your camp shirt and shorts, stained with grease and oil from your morning in the forgery. 
You shook your head, giving Luke a sympathetic smile. “I can’t.” you said simply, brushing at the stains in your shirt as if it were the only thing stopping you from swimming. Your towel laid limp in your hold, still folded from the years of sitting in your closet, and you made a mental note to throw it out one of these days.
Luke still doesn’t know of your mother’s rule or the pool incident all those years ago - mostly because you just didn’t know how to tell him and because he never asked. There was hardly a day where you could have a day to yourselves as demigods, constantly preparing for war against monsters and gods and each other. Swimming seemed like the least of your worries when Zeus was threatening to smite down a certain demigod when his lightning bolt went missing.
“You don’t know how to swim?” Luke snorted, giving you a disbelieving look. He was the one to suggest a pool date in the first place and while you were inclined to agree because you do love seeing Luke shirtless, you soon began to wonder if you should’ve declined his offer.
You rolled out your beach towel, a burnt orange color similar to your camp shirt, and sat stubbornly in the middle. You left your sandals on the grass, enjoying the slight freedom from the You didn’t bother shrugging off your clothes despite your swim suit underneath, it’s not like you’d get it wet anyway.
You can look, but don’t touch.
“Fire and water don’t mix well, Luke.” you scowled, crossing your arms defensively. You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment and you knew it wouldn’t be long before your body began to heat up as well. In an attempt to distract yourself, you grabbed a small bottle of sunscreen from your bag, relishing in the coolness of the cream as you applied it to your arms and legs. “It’s basic science, you nerd.”
Luke raised his hands in mock surrender, casually tugging his Camp Half Blood shirt off and tossing it by his shoes. He was always so comfortable in his body, his sleeves usually rolled up to his shoulders to show off his biceps that were toned from years worth of training. And though you’ve been dating for a while now, you tried not to stare at his defined stomach, at how his biceps casually flexed with every movement.
Luke cleared his throat, and you quickly looked away from his body, catching his gaze instead. “Like what you see?” he asked teasingly, giving you a suggestive smirk. You playfully scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from Luke to hide your own smile.
It’s been two years since you first started dating Luke and yet he still tries to court and flirt with you like the first day you met. His ego was constantly inflated with your stares and small flirtatious quips, though you loved to act annoyed at how easily he revels in your attention. Lingering touches and lovesick glances was the trademark of your relationship with Luke, most dates filled with sneaking away from your camp to escape the reality of your lives.
“You wish, Castellan.” You huffed, slowly toeing your own shoes off. You didn’t mind not knowing how to swim, you never needed it growing up. Instead of swim lessons, your mom put you in welding and crafting lessons. Instead of wading through the deep end of pools, you learned how much heat you could handle from a fire before you could feel the burn. 
You never complained about your lack of experience, it didn’t seem like something worth complaining about. But now, as the summer days started to grow hotter and hotter, you started to envy anyone who could splash around in the lake. 
Luke shrugged, taking no mind to your tone and immediately getting into the water. He let out a satisfied groan at the temperature, wadding further and further into the water until it was up to his waist. You watched with a smile as Luke let himself get used to the water, occasionally trying to float when the sun wasn’t in his face.
“Are you sure you don't want to come in? The water is soooo nice” Luke looked up at you from his spot in the lake, his hair already sopping wet from his plunges underwater. It took all of your strength not to let your gaze wander along his chest, down further to his abs before the water obstructed your view. 
You gave him a reassuring smile and nodded, casually toeing the water as if you were checking the temperature. The cold water of the lake stung at first, always clashing with the overly warmness of your body. But after keeping your feet dipped in the water. It felt nice, refreshing even, to feel the biting cold of the water against the heat of your skin. 
For a second, you forgot that you were the daughter of the fire god, blessed with eternal warmth and cursed with hotheadedness. You were just another body in the water, enjoying the refreshing cold the water offered after a long day’s work of crafting. The water seemed to call to you, inviting you closer to the crystal clear deep of the lake, promising an ice cold plunge that would soothe your aching muscles.
A splash of cold water to your face brought you back to reality, and you opened your eyes to glare at the perpetrator. Instead of facing your annoying boyfriend, you found yourself face to face with a guilty looking son of Poseidon.
Percy Jackson winced at your glare, giving you an awkward wave. The water was at his shoulders, though the boy seemed to have no trouble standing along the deep end with your boyfriend. You waved back, giving the boy a small smile while he streamed out his apologies as quickly as he could.
“I meant to hit Luke, I swear!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. Another wave followed his hands movements and splashed you again, drenching your clothes in ice cold water. You wiped your hair from your face, letting out a hiss at the freezing sensation, but gave the boy a dismissive wave. “Sorry! Sorry again!”
“Percy, stop drenching my girlfriend,” Luke said with a laugh, splashing water onto the boy. The water moved around Percy smoothly, as though the waves had a mind of its own, and crashed upon another camper nearby. In retaliation, Percy swept more water towards Luke, still splashing you with droplets whenever Luke dodged and moved around to avoid the water.
Though you couldn’t join them, you enjoyed watching Luke relax on days like this - where his duties as cabin counselor didn’t weigh on him and he didn’t have to worry about accommodating another unclaimed child in his already crammed cabin. Instead, he was roughhousing with Percy, now determined to win whatever made up game they had thought of.
“I didn’t mean to!” Percy exclaimed, still waving his hands around. Stronger waves surged towards you, hitting you with more force until you were soaking wet along the edge of the lake. Luke laughed and launched at the boy, wading deeper and deeper along the lake until Percy disappeared beneath the water and reappeared somewhere else.
You don’t remember what happened next. 
One moment, Luke is splashing more water onto Percy and you’re laughing at how they’re moving within the water. Then in another a giant wave rushes at you, immediately pulling you deep into the water. Your surprised gasp is muffled by the sound of moving water and before you knew it, you were engulfed by the freezing sensation all around you.
The water was cold, ice cold, stinging your entire body with the freezing temperature as you fought against the invisible force in the water. You opened your mouth to scream, to call for Luke or Percy or anyone that could help, but water filled your mouth and lungs and all you could do was panic. Above you, you could see Luke and Percy halt in their roughplaying, their bodies still as you struggled underwater.
Swim, you needed to swim. 
But you didn’t know how, didn’t know anything other than to frantically kick at the water, your arms reaching out for something, someone to hold onto. The pounding in your head wouldn’t stop as you tried to push your way up, towards the surface that seemed to move further and further away from your reach.
You can look, but don’t touch, those mocking words echoed in your mind once again, taunting you. A small part of you wanted to give up, there was no point in fighting a losing battle. But as you kicked at the water, pushing yourself up,up,up against the numbing water, you wondered how much longer you could struggle before anyone would help.
Panic clawed at your chest as the roaring of the waves crashed over you again and again. Your lungs burned, your heart pounding wildly with fear at the prospect that you might not be able to make it to the surface. You could hear the muffled shouting from above, the sound of someone shouting your name though you could barely hear it. 
A disgruntled sound came from your mouth, weak and sad, as your arms and legs burned in agony with every movement. The burning in your lungs only grew and the salty taste in your mouth made you want to gag as you slowed your flailing to a stop. You weren’t sure if you were crying or if your eyes were burning from the water, you couldn’t tell anymore when all you could do was let yourself sink slowly to the bottom.
All you could do was stare at the surface, watching the light slowly dim as the silhouettes above you rushed towards you. You thought of Luke, how he wanted to have a lake party with his girlfriend before the last days of summer ended. Was that his voice calling out your name, or were you starting to hallucinate? You weren’t sure anymore, not when the water numbed your entire body and the cold turned into a comforting feeling of nothingness all around you.
Maybe your mother was wrong, you thought as your eyes closed, maybe the water wasn’t so bad after all. A rushing sound of water filled your ears, or maybe that was another thing your mind was making up. Maybe you could rest for a bit, let your body relax before you’d swim back to the surface.
Rest - rest was good you decided. With the last bit of consciousness that you had, you thought of Luke one more time before everything faded to black, and your body felt like the nothingness that surrounded you.
Pressure against your chest was the first thing you felt, the thump, thump, thump of something against your chest in a rhythmic beat crushing your chest. It continued in a familiar pattern, thump, thump, thump until more pressure filled your throat and lungs - air.
You woke up with a start, sitting upright and spitting out water you didn’t know you had in your mouth. Tears streamed down your face as you coughed, air finally filling your lungs again as you took in deep, wild breaths. The lights were too bright, blinding you are you tried to take in your surroundings, searching for something familiar to ground you.
The sound of murmuring surrounded you, and you found yourself staring at concerned campers still clad in their swimwear and summer clothes. Sandy blonde hair, deep tans, some with freckles and others with almost glowing eyes - you recognized them as the children of Apollo, all watching you from their spots around your cot.
“What happened?” you rasped, glancing up at the closest person around you - a boy around Percy’s age with a grim look on his face. You recognized him from some of the games, he was more known for his healing skills than anything though he was equally as dangerous with a bow. But you couldn’t remember his name, not when the slight ringing in your ears filled your head.
The boy sighed, wiping his brow as he shooed the rest of the onlookers away. The children of Apollo murmured amongst themselves as they were ushered away, concerned glances cast your way as you watched the boy move with authority. Though he was shorter than some of his siblings, the blond carried himself as if he were wiser beyond his years.
You almost felt bad for him, seeing the same weight of responsibility that constantly hounded Luke crash upon the boy, probably more with the responsibility to heal the wounded. If he had any sense of resentment for his job, the head counselor didn’t show it, save for the tired look on his face once the final camper left your cot.
You attempted to lift yourself from your cot, barely bringing your legs over the edge before hissing in pain. Soreness shot from your thighs down to your calves, and you dug the palms of your hands into the soft mattress as you continued to move towards the edge. 
As if realizing your plan, the blond rushed to the side of your cot, holding onto your shoulders in warning. Though he was younger, the child of Apollo was not weak. His grip tightened on your shoulder, as if holding you in place, and you didn't dare challenge his hold. He stared at you, blue eyes daring you to move any closer to the edge, and you felt compelled to heed the hidden warning in his gaze.
“You drowned, I don’t even think calling you lucky is the right thing to describe your situation.” he said softly, his grip never loosening. He reminded you of those doctors you see on those dramatic shows back at home, with a stern and yet disappointed look on his face that made him look older than he really was. “I don’t know how long you were out, but you didn’t have a pulse when they brought you here���” He trailed off, and you sunk into your bed at the realization that you were more than just unconscious. Gods, you almost died drowning. An embarrassed flush spread at your cheeks at the image of the younger campers watching you horribly flail around in the water. You made a mental note to look for swimming lessons from the naiads around the lake, as if they’d be more help than the only child of Poseidon in camp.
“Is Luke-”
“He’s taking a break, he’s been here since you got here.” he said, his light blue eyes gleaming with a knowing look. You let out a small sigh of relief, falling back into the soft pillows of the Apollo cabin’s cot. The pain in your arms and legs had now dulled to soreness, and you knew you’d have to take it easy for the next few days until you could return to the forgery again.
The camper didn’t say anything else as he rummaged through the cabinets and drawers of the healing station. You’re not sure how long you were out for, and a small part of you was too afraid to ask. The knowledge of the time that passed while the children of Apollo tried to bring you back to consciousness made your head feel dizzy and something like bile threatened to rise at the thought of Luke seeing you like that.
Sometime later, the familiar sound of the dinner bell rang throughout camp. Voices all flooded outside the cabin, conversations carrying into your side of the Apollo cabin as the campers made their way to the dining pavilion. You’re pretty sure you heard your name in a couple of the conversations, and you turned away from the window to avoid the wandering gazes of the curious campers walking by.
The door to the cabin opened and the setting sun’s light peered into the cabin, bringing a dramatic backlight to whoever entered. You tilted your head towards the light, eyes blinking at the golden light as you took in the silhouette of none other than your boyfriend.
Ah, Will Solace, you suddenly remembered the familiar freckles and subtle Texan accent that could only belong to one child of Apollo here. You’ve seen him run throughout camp a couple times, sometimes wandering close to 
“She’s been up for some time,” Will murmured, more to Luke than you. Luke mumbled something to Will before moving past the boy, walking up to your cot, pressing his fingers against your palm before gently brushing his thumb against your cheek. You leaned into his soft touch, glancing up at him for the first time since the incident.
“Hi,” you whispered softly, looking up at Luke with a sudden shyness. Part of you wanted to hide under your covers, to pretend that you lost your memory and conveniently forgot everything that happened at the lake. But the bloodshot red in Luke’s eyes and slight frown on his lips had a pang of hurt echo throughout your chest at the realization of just how devastating Luke looked.
“Hi,” he whispered back, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, looking away slightly while he blinked his tears away, and you glanced at your hands instead. You gave him the time he needed, holding his hand with shaking fingers and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry for….everything.”
You frowned at Luke’s words, at the sullen look in his face and guilt in his tone. He was always so quick to blame himself when things went wrong, so selfless and yet selfishly taking the blame. It was the burden he always seemed to carry as one of the eldest campers, to accept more and more responsibility until the weight broke you down.
“It’s not your fault,” you said softly. Guilt lay heavy in your words, at your own fault for scaring Luke this way. But he needed comfort, he needed you just as much as you needed him right now, and you were okay with ignoring what happened if it meant that Luke would calm down.“It was an accident, that’s all.”
Luke continued, as if he didn’t hear you, his words coming out in a jumbled stream of panicked breaths. You could practically see his train of thought, the anxious thoughts leading with what if, what if, what if, pulling him down a rabbit hole of worse and worse situations. “I should’ve known. I wasn’t thinking and next thing I knew, you were underwater-”
“Luke,” you said sternly, dropping his hand. He turned towards you, that same sad look still in his eyes, now amplified at your tone. Gods, what you would give to make it go away, to make him laugh once more and see that stupid smile you love so much. “I’m okay. I just can’t swim, it’s not a big deal.”
Luke blinked, the only indication of surprise he’d give you. You could see the internal battle within him, forcing him to choose one or the other - to scold or cry, to hold or push away.
“You didn’t have a pulse.” Luke said at last. His eyes were full of tears and when he looked at you, you saw fear, true fear in Luke’s eyes. Luke, who never hesitated to break up a brawl between campers, who wasn’t afraid to speak of his father with spite and venom in his voice. Luke, the greatest man you’ve ever known, regardless of his demigod status or parentage, was afraid. “When we got you back on land, you didn’t have a pulse.”
You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. There were so many things to say, comforting words mixed with a thousand apologies, but you couldn’t find the words. Today was an accident, but you were here, you were okay.
“I started CPR, but you never…” he cleared his throat and blinked at the tears despite the fact that they’ve fallen down his cheeks already. You lifted a hand to his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing away the tears and tracing down the scar that bore down his face. He was always so brave, but a small part of you wondered if you truly scared Luke for the first time in your relationship. “It wasn’t until Will got to you and started doing compressions, you finally started to regain consciousness.”
“I thought I lost you,” he admitted. You didn’t say anything, letting the words settle within you. Luke looked up at you, lips trembling and tears falling. His confident cool-guy persona was gone, the mask finally broken and revealing Luke’s vulnerable side, the one he kept so secretly hidden from everyone in his life. “I don’t...I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Luke’s shoulders slumped, as if his confession had been weighing on him the entire time. You patted your hand at the now empty space on the other side of your cot, smoothing out the blanket’s wrinkles. Luke looked up at you, as if asking for permission, and you nodded.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you said softly, scooting towards the edge of your cot and looking up at Luke expectantly. Luke just stood by the side, watching you with caution, as if he were afraid you were going to fall unconscious once again. You tried to ignore the pang of hurt that echoed in your chest at his stillness. “You’re stuck with me, Castellan. Forever and ever.”
Gently, Luke settled into the space next to you, shifting his body ever so slightly to avoid the creaking of the cot beneath you. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body until you could rest your head on his chest. You nestled into his embrace, the solid warmth of his chest offering solace in the empty room around you.
His heart beat in a soft and steady rhythm, the faint ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum of his heartbeat bringing a soothing comfort only Luke could ever bring. It was your favorite sound - the promise of his eternal devotion, the reminder that he’s just as okay as you are.
“No more lake days.” Luke murmured more to himself, his voice a soft whisper against your neck. His breath felt warm against your skin, and you shifted slightly in Luke’s hold to look at him better.
Dark, curly hair swept along his forehead, nearly covering his eyes. You brushed his hair away from his face, fingers gently playing with his curls. But it was his eyes that truly captivated you - pools of soft brown that gazed at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, drawing you into their depths like a moth to a flame.
In their depths, you could see a myriad of emotions swirling - love, longing, and a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath the surface. It was as if his eyes held the secrets to his soul, bared for you and you alone to see.
As Luke looked at you now, his gaze soft and full of affection, you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest. In the soft brown of Luke’s eyes was the reflection of your own love, mirrored back to you in all its raw and unbridled beauty.
You hummed in response, stretching your arms out to wrap them around his broad shoulders. His arms flexed as he held you tightly, as if he were afraid to ever let go, and you didn’t mind. “No more lake days.”
You laid entwined in each other’s arms, the weight of today’s actions leaving your mind. Tomorrow, you’d ask Percy for swim lessons and maybe offer some food to Poseidon as an apology. You’d definitely thank Will Solace later, maybe with a handmade gift that could hold his medical instruments. 
But for now, you were content laying with Luke, the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulling you to a dreamless slumber.
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xo-cori · 8 months
Text
it’s all a game to me anyway
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pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader
summary: pining after athletes is never a good idea. that is, unless you’re good at getting your way.
warnings: smut (MDNI), hockey!abby, reader is lowkey a womanizer, choking, the knee thing™, thigh riding, power dynamic switcharoo, no aftercare but in a hot way
a/n: inspired by “music to watch boys to” by mother lana 🙏 if you’re a buff girl named abby anderson who plays hockey pls hit my line immediately. also read pt 2 here!!
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“How’d you get in here?”
In any other scenario, her tone would’ve offended you. At least, you would’ve pretended it did. But this is a very special case; you’ve got Abby exactly where you want her, only because you know she feels the same.
It all started a few months ago during your first week of college. You’d developed a reputation around the school pretty quickly– you tend to pick girls up for a night just to leave them in the dust. It’s fulfilling, until it isn’t. Until you move onto the next, getting better and better at pretending you’d fallen head over heels just to take someone to bed. Now, just starting your second semester, you’d climbed up the social hierarchy pretty quickly, and you’ve been eyeing somebody in specific. After playing your tricks with half of her teammates, of course.
You stand in the empty locker room with her as she packs her bag. You can tell she’s fresh out of the shower and had just finished getting changed. You wonder if you could’ve sped this up by walking in a bit earlier.
“I snuck in,” you shrug. “Just noticed you never came out with your team– I wanted to say how sorry I am that you guys lost. You’re the captain, right? You could spread the message.”
Her eyes meet yours and she’s obviously unimpressed. “I could, but I won’t.” She quips.
You tilt your head. “How come?”
“Well, you’re… acquainted with most of them. Tell them yourself.” She says, setting her bag down on one of the benches so that she can face you. Her dirty blonde hair is still damp and, now that you think about it, this is the first time you’ve seen it out of that signature braid she always wears– and you’ve seen a lot of her.
It’s become a habit to show up to every game, every practice, intently watching her command her team and skate around on that ice like her life depends on it. You don’t know how hockey works. You honestly couldn’t care less, but you have more than enough reason to watch it, and you have your music to keep you company.
“Someone’s jealous.” You observe, taking a long step towards her.
Surprisingly, she doesn’t make any attempt to create some distance. She just raises her eyebrows at you. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You think I’m jealous?”
“Sounds like it.” You wrestle with a smile, not wanting to blow your one chance at this by pissing her off too much.
“Oh, really? And what’s there to be jealous of?” Abby questions, even if she has a pretty good idea what the answer will be.
“The winning team,” you take another step, “and… y’know, the fact that half of your team has had a turn with me. Not you, though. Not yet.”
The way her jaw tenses up makes your chest swell with pride. “Not yet?” She repeats. “You think I want a turn?”
“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t look at me the way you do. You like it when I watch you all practice, because you know I’m just watching you.” You tell her.
Abby knows there’s no way to argue with that, no matter how much she’d like to. She looks for you in the bleachers and, when she finds you, subconsciously makes a point of holding that eye contact. You always have both of your headphones in. You’re always looking her up and down, licking your lips like she’s nothing but a freshly prepared meal to you. Honestly, it makes her confidence skyrocket. She’s secure in her capabilities, but a little boost never hurt.
“Athletes like being watched. That’s kinda the whole point,” she replies, “doesn’t make you special.”
“But I am special.” Another step forward. At this point, you have to tilt your head up to keep eye contact. “I’ve gotta be. You know what I want, but you’ve never told your coach to make me fuck off.”
That’s true, too, Abby thinks. She’d never admit it, though. “Maybe I should.” She says.
“You won’t.” You grin. “Not until you get your turn, at least.”
She’s the one to take the next step forward. You can feel her breath fan across your face. She doesn’t trust her voice to speak; her hard exterior slowly crumbling under the heat of your gaze.
So, she grabs you by the throat and leans down to catch your lips between hers.
You gasp, shocked that she’d be the one to take the initiative. You weren’t even sure if she liked girls, and here she was, already shoving her tongue past your lips, which you happily accepted. Her chest presses to yours as she backs you up against one of the lockers. You opt to ignore how hard your head hit the metal, given how preoccupied you are by the way she grabs both of your wrists in her other hand and holds them above your head.
Then, she pulls back to look at you. You aren’t the one in control and you know it. Oddly enough, you kind of like it.
“Is this what you wanted?” Abby rasps, shoving her knee between your thighs and pressing up right where you needed her, causing you to let out a pleased sigh.
“Yeah,” you nod, “just didn’t think you’d be so easy.”
She finds it ironic that you of all people would call her easy, but she decides not to linger on it. Instead, she slightly tightens her grip around your throat, reveling in the way she only needs one hand to make your breath stutter. The lack of air gives you a head-rush and you find yourself grinding down onto her thigh. Normally, you wouldn’t let yourself be reduced to a submissive mess, but you’d been pining after her for months. You’d do whatever it takes to get her head between your legs.
Abby kisses you once more, totally ignoring the way your hands struggle against her grip only because you kiss her back with a fervor she’s never felt.
“Look at you,” she murmurs, “fucking yourself on my leg like a dog.”
You whine at the lack of her lips on yours. “I want you so bad, Abby– been waiting for this forever.” You admit, which is just another ego boost for her.
She lets go of your wrists and pulls your arms to wrap around her shoulders. “Go ahead, then. Make yourself cum like this.”
You’re taken aback by the demand. Is that even possible? Hell, just to impress her, you’ll make it possible.
You slowly get yourself into a rhythm, rolling your hips into hers, thighs trembling as you hold yourself up simply by her shoulders. Her muscles flex beneath your hands and it only makes you moan louder. Your head falls back against the locker once more, giving Abby an opening to dive into your neck. She kisses, licks, bites any skin available to her, leaving little marks and bruises in her path. Something for her to gawk at later when you show up to practice (because she knows you will). Her hands hold you by your waist, fingertips digging into your flesh so hard that it hurts.
It only takes another two minutes until you feel your climax boiling somewhere deep inside of you. Your legs are just barely working anymore and your hips move with an untamed rhythm, shamelessly seeking any pleasure you can get. “I’m close,” you whimper, “please, please let me–”
Before you can finish your plea, she’s grabbing onto your hips and holding you still. You groan in frustration, balling your hands into fists and whacking them against her chest. “You fucking bitch!” You whine, only made angrier by the shit-eating grin on her face (plus the way she isn’t phased at all by your punches).
“Sorry,” Abby says, moving in so close to your face that your noses are nearly touching, “just needed to vent all this frustration. You know, since I lost the big game and all.”
She presses another kiss to your lips, and you reach up to grab hold of her hair, trying to deepen it as much as possible. She doesn’t struggle at all to pull away, though. You’ve never loved and hated someone’s muscles so much.
“Let me make it better.” You breathe, trying to move one of your hands down between her legs but she quickly grabs it to restrain you. “Please, I’ll– I promise, I’ll make you forget about that stupid game.”
“That’s not a very tempting offer,” Abby sighs dramatically just to get a rise out of you, “don’t wanna be sore for practice tomorrow.”
You scrunch your nose in thought. Is that an invitation? It has to be. She knows you’ll be there regardless. You stare deep into her eyes with a fury, but this only seems to amuse her.
She lets go of your hips and steps away from you. “See you then.”
You remain pressed up against the locker, lips kiss-bitten and legs shaky. You don’t even want to think about what your neck looks like. Abby grabs her bag from the bench and doesn’t even spare you another glance before walking out of the same door you came in through.
Fuck this, you think. Two can play at that game.
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manicpixiefelix · 5 months
Text
head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 6.
Summary: Felix learns about what happened between you and Oliver at the club, and some jackass makes assumptions about you and Felix and your intentions towards Oliver. The interaction gets you worked up enough that you feel the need to repay Felix as when he'd defended you. With sex.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: SMUT; AFAB!reader, d/s dynamics, felix being a chatty brat, assume the reader is on birth control, unprotected sex.
A/N: 4782 words. cannot go two chapters without having a felix/reader moment it seems. bare with me i swear we get more oliver as it goes on, but he's just watching through the blinds right now and collecting information. also forgive me, not only is this unedited, it's also the first actual, explicit smut scene i've written in years, and even longer since i've been intimate with someone with a dick. i also dont read smut so this might be weird pacing wise at the end. honestly the smut is just a backdrop for character development. have at ye, and please lemme know what you think!
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
Summer creeps in almost insidiously, days getting longer and warmer, humidity forcing it's way into every single facet of your lives. Afternoons outside of classes are spent doing not much of anything, hoping that when night falls, the temperature will fall with it.
This afternoon is the coolest you've had in several weeks, laying on Felix's floor, listening to him play the guitar while Oliver was draped over the foot of his bed, gazing at Felix's bookshelf. There's a sweet breeze through the open window and you hum along to the tune you recognise your best friend playing, letting yourself soak in the moment.
The quiet spell breaks as Oliver moves, reaches out for something on Felix's bookshelf.
"That's cute," he muses, "baby Felix." It must be the photo of Felix and his childhood dog, the you'd only met once or twice as a kid before he'd passed, before you'd been properly friends. But Oliver puts the photo back almost as fast as he'd picked it up, "there aren't any pictures of me as a kid," he muses.
"You and Y/N have that in common," Felix says idly, surprising both you and Oliver, though for different reasons; you hadn't even realised he'd remembered that about you. Your vapid, jet-setting, philanthropist parents had always been incredibly image conscious, and a child was never part of that image. Born out of obligation to their own parents to produce a grandchild to make eventual inheritance easier, they longed to distance themselves from the very idea of you unless they desperately needed to.
And they hadn't for as long as you've been alive.
"If there were baby photos of me, that'd prove that my parents had a child," you laughed, but there was no real humour in it, "and none of us wants that."
The invisible heir.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Oliver says faintly, an unfamiliar, unreadable look in his eyes as he gazes over at you. You give a blithe shrug.
"It means I got to find a home in Felix," you say easily, the wording sappy enough to make Felix himself laugh.
"You're such a sap, that's so much nicer than what I was going to say."
"Go on then, out with it," you prompted him, despite his faint, playful protest.
"I was going to call you another ward of the Saltburn Estate," Felix grins at you, "for better or worse."
"At least you had a family who loved you," Oliver turns away again, pressing his cheek to the duvet as his gaze focused back on the photo of Felix and his dog, "even if they weren't yours." There's a distinct discomfort in the air now, a reminder of how vastly Oliver's life differs from your own.
"I was lucky in a lot of ways," is all you can think to say. Felix starts playing guitar again.
These long days turn into long nights, parties, girls and boys and everyone in between, hazy chats and drinking games and hands on you - holding you, dancing with you, brushing past, tapping with excitement, always hands on you. The quiet way Oliver goes through these strange situations may be read as awkward to everyone else, but you're no longer under any such illusions.
"You're desperate to feel needed."
There was no hesitation in his voice the other night, his hands on you, his mouth on you.
"Then need me, want me."
How easily he'd made you flustered in the club, you didn't realise he had it in him. Honestly if you hadn't experienced it yourself, you wouldn't believe it if someone else had told you. There's been a change, however, a subtle, unnoticeable one to anyone looking in from the outside. Every so often, on nights out, you'll catch him watching you with that same hungry look in his eyes, but will never act on it, however much you wish he would.
"I do, but not like this, not now."
What the fuck was he playing at? You never knew how to bring it up, even when you were alone together. But he never stopped reached out for you, he never shied away from your touch. Apart from this one thing, it was the exact same as before.
If only that one thing didn't have the potential to change everything.
"Has Ollie seemed any different to you lately?" You go to the only person you know you can trust with this. Felix frowns at his hand of cards for a long moment before looking back up at you.
"Sorry, what was the question?"
"Ollie," you go a little slower, rearranging your own hand of cards, "does he seem... I don't know, different to you?" Then, as Felix was considering, "got any fives?"
"Go fish." You should both be studying for an upcoming exam.
"What do you mean? Has anyone said anything to you?" Felix momentarily put down his cards to relight his cigarette, fixing you with an intense gaze, "did something happen?"
"Did someone say something to you?" You pivot for the moment, still looking at your cards.
"Annabel."
"Annabel?"
"About her birthday thing."
"Are you taking your turn or what?"
"Oh, right," he's still frowning, picking up his cards with his free hand, "threes?" You swear as you hand over two threes, as he quietly cheers.
"Anyways, what about Annabel's birthday thing? Does she has a problem with Ollie?" At your question, Felix ums and ahs, and avoids eye contact, "yes then?"
"No-one else in the group is a huge fan of him," he even sounds guilty admitting it out loud, "everyone else can kind of feel how out of place he is and it makes things awkward. I know we think he's lovely," Felix tried to quickly placate you, or perhaps his own conscience, "but the man's got zero chat." This does, however, make you snort.
"Ollie's got chat," you smirk down at your cards, only realising what you'd said when you're met with a shocked silence. Looking up, Felix is staring at you with utter surprise.
"Does he now?" He sounds downright scandalised. You can feel yourself growing flustered, both under Felix's delighted, intrigued gaze, and at your own memories from the club, "so something did happen?"
"Nothing happened!"
"Something definitely happened!"
"I didn't fuck him."
"Between nothing and fucking there's a whole lot of somethings that could have happened," card game completely forgotten, Felix is enraptured as you begin to briefly explain the interaction at the club -
"- and well then, he starts calling me out while aggressively making out with me," you take a deep, final breath, finally looking Felix in the eyes, "and I desperately wanted to fuck him because of it." You sigh, and give Felix plenty of time to process the story and recover.
"But you didn't?" Finally, he speaks, and you groaned, throwing your head back to look at the stars.
"No," you sulked, "he disappeared into the crowd and I had to get myself off twice before I could sleep that night. Fucking tease," but you're heart's not really mad at Oliver.
"Always fascinated to learn what turns you on," Felix is desperately trying to hold in his laughter. It's not working, "many of them baffle me."
"That's not the point here, Fi," you rolled your eyes, leaning back against the gravel roof finally, laying back. You hear the pebbles shifting, and moments later Felix joins you, hands behind his head, "I don't know how to talk about it with him," you say softly. Then, tone much lighter, "and it doesn't surprise me that Annabel thinks he has no chat, he just doesn't want to fuck her, and she can't fathom a world where anyone doesn't want her."
Felix laughs, but unfortunately isn't able to offer any real advice to you about your Oliver situation.
Oliver Quick was an anomaly in your life, you should maybe have suspected his friendship to bring on further anomalous occurrences.
"Leave Oliver Quick alone," like the voice in the library that greets you harshly whilst you're hunting down a textbook. Spinning to see who it is, you lay eyes on a blonde man in dreadfully practical clothes; he's glaring at you like you've done him some personal offense.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he says sharply, gaze as unwavering as his tone, "you vapid -" he stops himself for a moment, face turning red with anger, "pricks," he settles on, "leave Oliver Quick alone, for his sake."
"Is this a joke?"
"Oh I'm not one for jokes, especially not with the likes of you; I know how you and Mister Catton operate. Selfish," he hissed.
"Do I know you?" Its genuine confusion, and for a moment the man's expression turned annoyed, his righteous indignation turning to faint disappointment as you refused to take him and his request seriously.
"Michael," like it should mean something to you, "Michael Gavey;" still nothing, "I was in the year below you at high school for four years."
"Well, Michael," you start slowly, bordering on condescending, "Ollie's a big boy -"
"I know you; you'll get bored, you two always do," Michael cuts you off with a sneer, some of that anger from just earlier returning, "he deserves more than to be a footnote in your frivolous little lives."
"Fuck off, Mikey." You say it as a warning.
"Michael," he corrects through gritted teeth, "Felix is a slag, which makes you the sensible one, so I thought you'd actually listen -" but the realisation hits you, right as you start to see red.
"You've already tried talking to Ollie," immediately, your tone ices over, humourless, cruel little smile twisting the edges of your lips. Noticing your change in demeanour, the fight seems to drain out of Michael before your very eyes, "and he ignored you, didn't he?" You asked, already knowing the answer from the way he was trying to stammer through an answer.
"Now, Michael," you tell him with a poisonous smile, taking even, measured steps towards him, as you turn his name over on your tongue with as much malice as you can manage, "Michael Gavey, I think I do know you," you're playing with your food, drawing out his discomfort with every slow word; you weren't cruel by nature, not unless someone found which button to press, "first year," you drop your voice low as you get into his space. He starts to shrink backwards, but you're practically on his toes until you're crowding him against the bookshelf, "math genius, shouts in the dining hall -"
"I didn't- just once-"
"If you ever," there's a furious look in your eyes behind your sinister smile as you stand toe-to-toe with Michael, "and I mean fucking ever, breathe the word slag in Felix's direction, or any other insult for that matter," you wet your lips, "I promise the only job you will ever get for the rest of your life will be that of a high school English tutor," you pet his cheek condescendingly, "for students with dyscalculia."
Michael actually shudders.
"You know I can do it too, don't you?" You press, and he nods, looking both furious and ashamed where he can't look you in the eyes, "we went to high school together, Mikey, I know where you came from, I can dictate where you will go." Stepping back, you clear your throat. Nodding to him, you turn on your heel to head further into the library, to continue searching for your book.
Trying to move past it doesn't work, it still irks you, you still can't stop thinking about his weaselly little face, the bitter sneer he wore, and the cruelty with which he spoke about you and Felix. It haunts you. The audacity.
Textbook in hand, you immediately head for the patch of greenery and trees near Oliver's dorm, where you know Felix and the rest of your friends will all be spending their afternoon.
"Ooh~ Y/N coming in hot," Farleigh called, spotting the metaphorical cloud of thunder above you before anyone else.
"What are you doing now?" Ignoring everyone else, you only have eyes for Felix. He grins up at you from where he was using Farleigh's thigh as a pillow.
"I assume whatever it is you're about to ask of me," he says blithely, while the others watch the interaction with amusement.
"I need to rant," was all you said, and Felix held out his hand for you to help him up.
"You're so sexy when you're angry," he says teasingly for the whole group to hear, "has anyone ever told you that?"
"I'm not kidding," you scowl, and his grin widens.
"I know, that's the best part, I could listen to you yell for hours, I usually never get to hear it." The banter continues on the way back to your dorm. The others know it's probably a cover, though none of them, apart from Farleigh of course, know the truth. Most assume you're moments from a breakdown and would like to have your best friend there for support.
The minute you're back in your room, you slam the door shut and toss the textbook to the side. Felix asks you what's wrong, tone still light, and you can feel that protective anger flaring up in you.
Slag.
"If you don't hold me back I might start getting into scraps," you tells him with seriousness, stalking up to him with intent, planting an almost bruising kiss on his lips as you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. It's not often that you're the one getting riled up; Felix is more than enthusiastic.
"Don't fight on my behalf," he laughs, frantically pulling off his sweater. Pausing for a moment to help him with the pullover, the minute it's off and tossed to the side, you're unbuttoning his shirt with one hand as best your able, as he's trying to tug your shirt off in the chaos. The two of you are moving to the bed, and he actually gasps when the back of his legs hit, when you take a beat to raise your eyebrows at him, silently asking permission.
He's already letting himself fall back with a wicked, delighted grin as your hand finds his bare chest.
Then he's breathless, with you braced over him, gazing down at him with a furious determination that you don't usually allow yourself to build up. Felix looks up at you with pure extasy in his eyes, like you hang the stars in the sky. His hands on your ass, his grip is firm and secure, but he doesn't move; he's letting you lead.
"Felix Catton, I ruin lives for you," you practically snarl; a breathy laugh escapes him, caught up in the moment, in the mood that's been building within you, "doesn't feel like enough sometimes -"
"You're so fucking hot," he groans like he can't even help himself, can't hold himself back, can't help but close the gap to your lips, kissing you with that same intensity you're giving him.
"If I hear-" you punctuate your words with rough kisses, "another word-" biting at his lips, "against you, I'm -" fumbling with his belt, "I'm gonna start cutting people -"
"Yeah?" Felix prompts breathlessly with a sharp grin, not even waiting to get your fly all the way down before his hand is in your pants, fingers at an awkward angle in your jeans but still finding your clit. It's like you're feeling everything tenfold with the earlier outrage still burning in your veins -
Vapid pricks. The likes of you. Slag. Watching Felix's hands on the girl in the club. The venom in his voice and fury in his eyes when he'd pinned Farleigh to the wall to defend you - Our Felix; Oliver's voice like honey in your ears, tempting that jealous creature in your chest that you'd gone for years ignoring -
"My Felix," you'd purred as your hand found his cock. For a moment, his breath came out as a stutter, eyes going wide as they meets yours. He looks almost incredulous, then, after a moment, hungry, wanting. It's captivating; he's captivating, like he's desperate to devour every part of this moment and you in it, barely holding himself back.
"One more time for me?" He requests, voice low and pleased, before he changes tactics, indicating for both of you to actually take off your pants.
"Everyone's fucking wrong about you," you tell him, kicking your jeans to the side, watching for a moment as he shimmies with his jeans, looking like he's made of ninety percent limbs. Still, your intensity holds.
"Even the people that like me?" Felix laughs, finally getting himself free of the jeans. Before he can remove his boxers, however, you're on him once more, thumbs hooking into the waistband and pulling them down slowly as you speak.
"Everyone else has these versions of you in their head," you begin to plant kisses along his inner thigh as you work your way up, looking up at him through your lashes, "where you're either an angel who can do no wrong," Felix is already hard when you begin to slowly work your hand up and down the shaft of his cock, "or the absolute devil who's a scourge on the female population," your lip curls for a moment, a derisive kind of amusement at their imagined expense.
"I can't look at you right now," he half chokes out, head falling back against your duvet, "fuck," he gasps. It's enough to bring you back to the moment, and you apologise -
"No, fuck, don't stop anything; the ranting, the -" he gestures to where your movements had slowed briefly, "any of it, I just literally," he laughs a little awkwardly, almost a little self-deprecatingly, "will not last more than a minute if I look at you right now."
Oh.
Oh! This is good!
"What's so different," he prompts through shaky breathes - you can't quite believe how much he's effected by you in this moment, how enthusiastically, how desperately he responds to your dominant intensity - "about the version of me in your head?"
After a beat, you climb off of him, already reaching for your drawer.
"Everything okay?" He asks, eyes opening as he tilts his head to look at you. Pulling out a tube of lube, you focus on opening it up, rather than Felix himself. You should be using protection, you know you should be using protection, but you want to feel all of him, only him.
"I can't talk with my mouth full," you told him, still maintaining that steely intensity, "so we're skipping foreplay." Felix, immediately understanding where you were going with all this, looks back up at the ceiling with a wide smile.
"Fine by me; right now I'm inclined to say that you can do whatever you want forever, honestly - cold!" He announced with shock, jerking up a little as you glided a generous amount of lubricant over his cock. There's a faint look of betray in his eyes, but you just gave him a thin, mean smile.
"Felix, stop talking."
The commanding tone is enough to get him back on board, groaning, arching into your touch as you once again were working his shaft, now so slick your hand glided easily up and down the impressive length.
"My Felix," voice once again low, you use some of the excess lubricant on yourself. Since leaving the library, however, your anger had known it's outlet; just the idea of fucking Felix in a righteous fury had gotten you going, and you were already wet, wanting, desperate for him.
"Don't make me beg," he all but whimpered as you finally straddled his thighs, "fuck, I'll do it for you, but -"
"Shut. Up. Felix." You leaned down, chest pressed to his lips inches from his, whispering, "I won't make you beg," as you sink down onto his cock, swallowing his moan with a kiss.
"I am under no illusions about you, Felix," you begin to murmur, hips rolling at a deep, consistent rhythm, "I don't have a version of you in my head, I just have you; I just want you, as you are."
Pace picking up, you sit, rake your nails lightly down his chest, watch as he pants and groans beneath you. When he holds your hips, your thighs, you can feels his nails digging in, burying himself deep inside of you with each rhythmic thrust. There's something primal and triumphant roaring in your chest, pushing you to sink your nails into him, your teeth -
"I don't care who you fuck," you tell him through gritted teeth, picking up your pace, thighs burning.
"You're a fucking liar," tumbles from Felix's lips as he looks up at you with a smirk.
"I don't, I'd be a hypocrite -" very suddenly, Felix sits up, and you go still with him still inside of you, adjusting to the change, wrapping your legs around him.
"Then you're a hypocrite," he smirks, gaze hazy, heady, euphoric in this moment, "and a liar," and he wraps his arms around you as he kisses you, pulling you back with him as he lays back down on the bed.
"I'm not jealous," you start again, softer this time, but still aiming for stern.
"I'll say I believe you," there's mischief in Felix's eyes as his hand snakes between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles against your clit as you pick your rhythm back up again, slower this time.
"Fi," for the first time all afternoon, your voice softens, and you let your stern demeanour break, instead looking over him, glowing with sweat and endorphins, in your bed, in you, looking up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, "I don't care if nobody knows it's me, but -" you wet your lips, wicked little smile on your lips, "I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."
Something about your words, your request, perhaps your tone, sets him off again; you rake your nails lightly down his chest again and he arches up, swearing, almost breathless.
"Yes, fuck, yes," comes out alongside a breathless moan, "my Y/N, anything you want - please."
You paint him blue and purple and the deepest, prettiest red with hickeys, leaving him looking absolutely scandalous. Of course he returns the favour in the form of scratch marks up your back and his teeth almost drawing blood from your shoulder. When he comes it's with your mouth on his neck and his cock deep inside of you, holding you close, holding you steady, whispering incoherent praise into your ear. Always diligent, he doesn't move, doesn't pull out or away from you before his focus is on you, making sure you get off, delighting in watching you unravel on top of him.
In the afterglow, amid the sharing of a cigarette and catching of your breath, you apologise softly.
"What are you apologising for?" He immediately cracks a grin, "in fact, any time you ever start to get all worked up and mean like that, have me on speed dial -"
"I - no, Fi," you sighed, amused at his suggestion, though it was fading fast, "I just... try not to be jealous," there's faint notes of guilt now that you've come down from the adrenaline and endorphins of it all. Sitting against the headboard, you draw your knees up to your chest.
"I know," Felix says easily, sitting up beside you, resting his head against your shoulder, his hand on your knee, "I try too... I don't think I'm always that great at hiding it." Then, after a moment, his tone lightens, "I think this is why I don't want to tell people about us, I don't think I could begin to explain it in a way that makes sense." It gets you to laugh, leaning into him, tension and guilt easing.
"I thought it was the rush of sneaking around and lying to people."
"There's that too," he agreed with a chuckle. The two of you fall into easy silence as he takes a drag on the cigarette and hands it over. The afternoon is sticky-hot, especially in your room, curtains still half open but window shut. As you go to open it, not caring about potential onlookers in the twilight, past the sliver of your curtain, Felix speaks up.
"There's no version of me in your head? Not even a little bit rose-coloured-glasses tinted?" He grins at you, and you lay out on the bed, looking up at him through your lashes. After a moment of simply taking the moment in, you shake your head with a soft smile.
"I told you, I'm under no illusions about you, Fi."
"I think you're too good to me for that to be true."
"I want you as you are, dude," you shrug, as if it's the easiest truth in the world.
"As I am?" He wants to be sceptical but his tone and the look in his eyes betrays him. You've never heard him quite so soft you think, eyes wide and glassy and full of conflict and love; everyone wants him, everyone loves him, everyone wants to be him or be with him, he's reckoned with his reality a long time ago, even if he wasn't entirely conscious of it. Felix's life had been picked apart by everyone around him at the surface level for as long as he could remember, perhaps he'd thought that no-one would ever care to look deeper. Perhaps he'd gotten so used to it that he'd forgotten there was anything deeper.
"I want the Felix who can't keep a girlfriend for more than two months, and who's cheated on every single one of them with me," you start, wearing a grin despite his sudden frown, "I want the Felix who hugs and kisses strangers after just meeting them because he's bursting at the seams with affection, I want the Felix who won't admit that he sleeps better with someone next to him at night, and the Felix who recaps the books he's been reading to me like they're gossip. The Felix who uses people, and breaks hearts, who says he doesn't know he's doing it but I know you do," you laugh, sitting up on your knees and letting the blankets slide down your back as Felix looks up at you now with a fond kind of reverence, "I want the Felix that lights up every room he's in without even trying, who makes everyone around him feel like they're the only person in the world, and that same Felix who still shifts over, mid conversation with someone else, for me to sit down beside him without having to even ask, because you know we'll always come back to each other," you lean down, lips inches from his, burning intensity in your gaze as you take in the reverence in his eyes, "the Fi who fights for me, the Fi who loves that I'd ruin lives for him, my Felix -" You see the moment he can no longer hold himself back, arcing forward, moving from the headboard to be by you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. For a long moment it's your mouth fitting perfectly against his, faint, desperate groan being pulled from the back of his throat as he takes your face in his hands, firm, warm, wanting, deepening the kiss.
"Some of those things were pretty shit," he laughed a little self consciously after the kiss breaks, both of you breathing heavy. In his eyes you can see the barest hint of conflict.
"People have said worse."
"And you got them expelled," he reminded with a faint smile, but again there's that conflict, "and they aren't you."
"You're my best mate," you laugh easily, "that shit, the good and the less good, makes you my Felix. Be pretty shit of me to want to chop and change who you are, you know?"
For a very long moment, you watch the way he slowly begins to smile, to take all your saying in drinking in this sun-drenched moment. Reaching out, he carefully touches your cheek.
"Say it again then," he prompts, sounding almost giddy, feather-light touches as if mapping your delicate features in this moment. For a brief second you're confused, barely angling your head to indicate as such before you can see his faint blush beneath his golden skin, creeping up his cheeks. When he laughs, almost self conscious, you realise, and grin back.
"You're a sap."
"Don't make me beg."
"My Felix."
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demieyesore · 2 months
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I need a little ANGSTYYY. Basically the reader (female) and Anakin have a situationship and get to know each other and reader has been waiting patiently until Anakin cuts all ties to persue a relationship with Padme. Reader is heartbroken but soon meets someone new too and Anakin is so JELLY and realizes his mistake? (Happy ending between them pls) THANKS, LOVE THE WORK
Took You Long Enough - Anakin Skywalker
Summary - Anakin chose Padme over you but gets jealous after seeing you with someone new.
Warnings / Mentions - GN!Reader, AFAB!Reader, complicated relationships, no actual cheating, more so emotional cheating, Padme and Reader are best friends
A/N - listening to light shower by Melanie while writing this...may have hurt my own heart with this one (I'm such a baby oh my god), ending is rushed because I had no idea how to end this...
Requested - Yes
Word Count - 1968
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Padme and you have been friends for years, you grew up around each other. When Padme was elected Queen at just the age of 14, you were so happy for her. Despite being childhood friends, you're a couple years younger than her. 
She took you everywhere, and of course when the people were under attack, she wanted to keep you as close as possible.
You met Anakin the same time that Padme did. Anakin was 9 years old, and Padme was of course, 14. You fell between them in age, only 1 year older than Anakin, meanwhile 4 years younger than Padme.
Anakin took a liking to Padme, while you took a liking to him.
By the end, Padme and your parents decided to send you to the Jedi Temple. You weren't force sensitive and you weren't to be trained. But during the conflict, enemies were constantly targeting you. Your family was a powerful one, and you'd be easier to take out compared to the Queen. So while your family dealt with their affairs, you were to stay at the Temple. If you requested to return home, you must come with a body guard.
So you grew up in the temple, alongside Anakin. You weren't particularly close. Obi-Wan wasn't the one who watched over you unless he had to.
The older you and Anakin got, the more you became friends.
When Anakin turned 16, he kissed you. It was your first kiss and you were shocked at first. But you couldn't think of anyone better to share it with.
You knew you loved him. It became more and more obvious. You never told anyone about it, always worried that it would get Anakin kicked out of the Jedi.
You never talked about your odd relationship with each other. Anakin would always be the one to make a move first, you were too hesitant. 
When you were 19, Anakin 18, the tension between you was always thick. He couldn't be around you for too long before he would get excited.
It was like a flip switched for him, constantly wanting to be inside you. One of the times, he saw you staring at him whilst he was training. No one else was in the room, so he took his chance. Not caring if you both were to get caught.
You almost did get caught. Multiple times.
You always wanted more from him, wanting to be with him. But you knew it wasn't possible. Nothing serious at the least.
After Padme became a Senator, she needed body guards. Obi-Wan and Anakin were selected, and since you knew Padme, you were allowed to go along with them.
As soon as Anakin saw Padme, you just knew. You could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at her and not you. He looked at you with a look of...friendship? But other times with lust. 
The way he looked at Padme was nothing of how he looked at you. He looked at her with love, adoration. The sensual stare he gave her, was the exact stare you often gave to him.
Padme didn't seem interested at all. At least at first. Throughout the mission, she started to change. 
You had to watch the entire time as your best friend slowly fell in love with the man you had loved for years.
You never told Padme, about the dynamic you shared with Anakin. 
Anakin would still come to you at night, the stress of the mission getting to him. 
The night he cut ties with you was the same night you decided to go back home. You told yourself that you would rather have the chance of dying by a family enemy than to see Padme with Anakin.
Anakin had you bent over the bed of the spare room you were given. It was well past midnight, everyone sound asleep. No present threats. 
His right hand ran through his sandy colored hair, his other rested on your hip. Your face was shoved into a pillow, attempting to muffle your moans. Anakin's lips were raw and red, biting down on his lower lip to discourage his own sounds.
And then it happened. He was at his climax and you were too. But when a name fell from his mouth in a whimper. It wasn't yours.
You both immediately realized as he came to a full stop. You quickly pulled away from him. Hurt shown on your face as you quickly got dressed.
He apologized over and over as you threw your clothes back on.
"I didn't mean it-" He whisper yelled at you, grabbing your arm to stop you.
"You said her name. When you're with me. I don't know what we are, but Anakin I have done nothing but wait for you. I was the one who was there when you came back from hard missions. I was the one there when life as a Jedi Padawan was hard...and the really fucking sad part is that I can't even be mad at you." Your eyes filling with tears, sniffles escaping you.
"I never asked you to wait for me." Anakin said harshly, never making eye contact, just staring at the ground.
"We should stop." He continued, his tone softer. You didn't say anything, just staring at him for a second. 
Not saying anything, you yanked your arm back from his grip. Leaving the room as quietly as possible, instead going to take a shower as you thought everything over.
Obi-Wan agreed to take you back home when he saw how distraught you looked, even after putting yourself together.
A couple of months pass by, Anakin never told Padme about you, and you still never said a word to her. She was your best friend and you just wanted her to be happy. It would kill you inside anytime she called you and told you about him. 
Back home on Naboo, your parents decided it was time for you to marry. They gave you a list of bachelors to choose from.
You finally settled on a man. You liked him and knew that you could grow to love him too. You held off on the wedding, even on the engagement. Just dating and getting to know each other.
You felt...happy? As happy as you could be at the least. He wasn't like Anakin and you weren't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one.
You still loved Anakin, your heart ached for him.
Your future fiancé wanted to take your relationship to the next level but you just couldn't.
You couldn't give yourself to someone, not the way you did with Anakin. He haunted your thoughts.
Padme surprised you with a visit, Anakin and Obi-Wan tagging along too. You avoided Anakin as much as possible. Even during the introduction between your boyfriend and the others.
Padme liked your boyfriend, she thought he was a good choice for you. Obi-Wan approved but Anakin just stayed silent, glaring daggers at the man.
The visit lasted about a week, they weren't staying with you but would come over at least once everyday. You didn't mind since Padme and you were basically sisters.
Anytime Anakin was over, it's like he was trying to get on your nerves. One of the times, Anakin was drinking a glass of water as he leaned against the kitchen counter. Padme had her back to Anakin, sitting across from you on a couch. Your boyfriend sat next to you, an arm around you. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and then you heard breaking glass.
You all promptly turned towards the noise, seeing the cup shattered on the floor as he worked on cleaning it up.
Another time, you and Anakin were in your garden. He obviously had to say something but you kept ignoring him. Just walking away. Padme was resting and your boyfriend was out of the house. He practically chased you around the garden, asking all these questions.
"When did you meet him?"
"Why are you even with him? You couldn't have found someone better?" His questions nagged at the back of your mind, starting to give you a headache.
"Why? Jealous?" You scoffed, tending to one of the nearby flowers.
"Maybe I am jealous. Why does that matter? Have you even told him about me?"
"Why would I tell him about you? You're the one who ended it." You'd remind him, dusting yourself off as you stood, walking towards the fountain. Just wanting some kind of distance.
Anakin would grab your arm, stopping you just like he tried to that night. He'd stare at you, not knowing what to say. "He isn't me." Being the only sentence he can form.
"He isn't you." You vocalize, confirming it. Still unaware of it being good or bad.
"He never will be." Anakin says, frustration evident on his face. 
"Anakin just stop. You can't toy with me like this. You chose Padme. You can't just come after me because I'm supposed to marry." Anakin's bottom lip trembles at your words.
"I can't be apart from you. I thought that I wanted Padme. But I just didn't realize I wanted you more. I'm in physical pain when I see him with you. That should be me." Anakin drops to his knees in front of you, his mental pain splayed across his face.
"I would destroy myself and the world if it meant you would forgive me." Anakin's eyes show the agony he feels and it's getting to you.
"You're with Padme. I can't ask you to leave her. She's still my best friend." The sadness in your own voice catches you off guard. 
"I don't think Padme ever wanted to be with me." Anakin answered honestly.
"Anakin...I can't say yes to you. Even if I wanted to. I have to marry someone, my parents expect me to." I try to gentle the blow of rejection on him but he persists.
"I'll marry you. I'd do anything to be with you. I'll leave the Jedi Order." He spurts out a string of words.
"Anakin, you're not leaving the order for me. Talk to Padme, if you find a solution...I'll listen." You say, talking your hand back from him and exiting the garden, going back to your home.
A couple of days go by, oddly quiet. Padme and Anakin hadn't stopped by. You broke up with your boyfriend, telling him that you just weren't ready to be committed to him. Your parents were upset and set their sights on looking for a new bachelor until you could stick to one.
You just stayed at home reading books, taking care of your plants and cooking for yourself.
Your kitchen is a mess, ingredients everywhere when the front door opens revealing Padme and Anakin.
"You didn't tell me?" Padme announces, making your blood run cold.
"How couldn't you tell me?" She says as she walks towards you, pulling you into an embrace.
"Our relationship comes before anyone." She states.
"I don't care if you love him. I don't care if he loves you." Padme chimes in, breaking away from the hug before whispering.
"I think I'm a lesbian anyways..." Your eyes widen while Anakin laughs behind Padme.
"Just had to outright say it?" He raises his eyebrow.
"Yep, I'm leaving now, you guys get to talk about what happens between you now." She waves as she closes the front door with her exit.
Anakin looks at you nervously, "I'm still willing to quit being a Jedi..." He chides, trying to give himself some relief.
"You don't have to, we can just...have a private wedding..." You smile, basically tackling him in a hug. Your legs wrap around him as he secures you in place.
He grins down at you, "Yeah, I'd like that."
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gunwoos · 10 months
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woo-jin x reader x gun-woo poly headcanons
sorry this is kinda short! also i've never written anything poly before so it might not be the best. i procrastinated finishing this all week cause my brain ran out of ideas but anyways enjoy 🫶
ok hear me out
u either meet them and they're already in an established relationship OR u guys r all best friends and they both realize how much they like u and how much they like each other and eventually u guys all start dating
ur guys relationship is such a fun dynamic. like ur dating both of ur best friends it really can't get better than that
u have a spot permanently reserved in between the two of them
whether ur walking down the street, taking the bus, ur in the middle of them
they lowkey fight over u (playfully) (woojin starts it 100% of the time)
like woojin asks u to come watch him at practice but u and gunwoo have plans to go somewhere and woojin is just like ??? "ur hogging her!!!"
he then proceeds to go on this long rant abt how sad and lonely he's gonna be at practice all by himself while u two have fun without him (jokingly)
all jokes aside tho u guys have a really secure relationship and are able to do things in pairs rather than all 3 of u being together 24/7
like u and woojin, u and gunwoo, and gunwoo and woojin all have ur own things u like to do in pairs and it's nice for whoever doesn't go to have some alone time
they (try to) teach u how to box if ur interested
or if ur a boxer urself even better! all 3 of u can practice and compete in tournaments together (ur gonna be rich from all the prize money u guys win together)
practices with all 3 of u usually ends up with u guys just messing around but it's fun while it lasts
trying to go to sleep with these two is chaotic to say the least. u guys all eventually end up moving in together and apartments r expensive so u guys thought it would be a good idea to just have one bedroom with a singular king sized bed in it
news flash it's not big enough for u and ur two tall ass boyfriends
like u guys try cute cuddling positions to start off but it just ends with u guys laying on top of each other and it's a mess but u guys r comfy so
woojin likes to fall asleep with his head on your chest and geonwoo likes to have your head on his chest
u usually end up with your head on geonwoo's chest, cuddled into his side with woojin behind / kind of laying on top of u or hugging the both of u. whatever position u guys fall asleep in doesnt last tho and by the time u guys wake up it's just a tangle of limbs
HOLDING HANDS. whenever u guys go out together , and especially if wherever u are is crowded, all 3 of u are linking hands
they're both protective of u. they're overprotective when it comes to danger and stuff like that considering what they went through with kim myeon-gil , but they're not super overprotective if ur talking to other guys or smth
they also don't get jealous easily. there's so much trust in ur relationship and u guys communicate really well , so they really won't get jealous unless they actually have good reason to be
if someone is like over the top flirting with u and getting touchy tho, they're both by u in an instant scaring whoever's bothering u away
they know u can handle urself but will step in if they need to
like just imagine ur at a bar or smth, u leave the table to go get the three of u more drinks and some guy starts getting flirty with u while ur waiting. ur ignoring him but the guy wont take a hint, the next thing u know both of your boyfriends are on either side of u, one has an arm over ur shoulders and the other wraps one around ur waist
the guy looks terrified and is out of there in seconds
playfighting. it's mostly just u and woojin unless gunwoo is in playful mood
like u guys start bickering about something unserious and next thing u know u guys r on the floor wrestling (he barely uses any strength obviously) and gunwoos just rolling his eyes and watching
u guys honestly have such a great relationship. u got so lucky to have not one but two amazing boyfriends who love u more than anything
nsfw under ⬇️
again, they're both tall and strong as hell so expect to get manhandled a little bit (gently tho)
like holding down ur hips while going down on u, moving ur body into different positions
the sex is GOOD. like hands down it's amazing
another thing, even tho they're both boxers, you're much smaller than they are and they're so SO gentle with u
i honestly don't think either of them would like it rough they're just so sweet and don't wanna hurt u in any way
i also don't think they'd wanna like.. be in u at the same time unless ur into that, like if u suggest it and confirm that ur 100% ok with it they'll be hesitant at first but they're just like "ok! ^-^"
like i said in the sfw hcs, u have a spot permanently reserved in between the two of them and yes that includes in the bedroom
this can go so many ways too
gunwoo behind u, leaving kisses along ur jawline and neck as u lean back onto him while woojin goes down on u
eiffel tower. (i'll write a fic abt this i promise)
with the 3 of u, the possibilities are endless
they're both so giving and like pleasuring u better than receiving (not that they don't love when u pleasure them too)
they're both obsessed with eating u out
they're both athletes, they're competitive and wanna learn and become the best they possibly can at whatever they're doing , including pleasing u.
the first few times u guys do it they'll pay attention to every detail, what u like and don't like, what u really like, what things turn u on the most, etc
by the time u guys are a few months into the relationship they know just how to please u
like the sex was already good but it's just so much better once u guys learn more about each other in a sexual sense
it also doesn't have to be all 3 of u every single time, if one of u is tired or isn't in the mood but 2 of u are, u guys can go off and do ur own thing without the other feeling left out or jealous
u guys have such a trusting relationship including in the bedroom which makes the sex even better
like i said in their separate headcanons, woojin is prob a little bit freakier than gunwoo
like i know this man at least has a pair of handcuffs and i swear by this
woojin probably brings out a more adventurous side to gunwoo (and u if ur not usually adventurous) in the bedroom and it's so interesting to see
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cucumberteapot · 11 months
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Spider-man Villains and Hands
If you're paying attention you'll notice often times in Spiderverse that villains are far less expressive with their hands than the heroes. That is unless it's to attack.
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Kingpin clicks his pen to relieve rage he's only barely controlling and in Peter Parker's death scene, the only time we see his hands is to kill him.
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With Doc Ock, we see her doing a lot of excited gesturing with her hands (pushing up her glasses, studying Peter, etc.).
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But after her reveal, it's her tentacles that does most of the talking.
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Moving on to ATSV, when we first meet Spot, he's experimenting with his Spots with (you guesses it!) his hands and it's a lot of trial and error. It's also a lot of slap-stick comedy in his first fight with Miles managing to take him out briefly by making him punch himself in the face.
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However as he becomes more confident with his powers, we see him use his hands less and less to the point he doesn't need to use a spot to teleport between dimensions. Instead of attacking them, Spot starts fighting by letting the heroes attack him.
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And by the end of the film, his mere presence has become such a threat to Miles that all he has to do to invoke fear is stand still. This is why after his colour scheme has been completely inverted, he doesn't fight or do anything with his hands anymore and it's why our last focus on his hands is when he watches it completely turn from white to black.
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When we first get a good look at Miguel, we get a close-up of his claws before panning up to his watch. Firstly this shows us how unlike the other Spider-people Miguel is. He has claws and wears a cape. Peter says in the first movie, "Spider-man doesn't wear capes." Then we see a better look at his watch which tells us this character isn't just scary and powerful, but is powerful in their access to other dimensions without having their cells decay - which by the end of the movie proves to be another problem for Miles. Immediately this shot warns us that Miguel is an unstoppable and dangerous person and the sirens in his leitmotif only emphasise that, even if the characters don't realise it yet.
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Likewise with Fisk and Doc Ock in the previous Spiderverse installment, Miguel also doesn't have a lot of hand animations outside of fighting and we see this visual language in his meeting with Miles. Miles offers Miguel an empanadas and calls him 'Tio' ("uncle" in Spanish) as an offer of respect and solidarity, but Miguel's response is to grab the box and throws it aside before resuming his stance.
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Here Miguel isn't just refusing Miles, he's also refusing the subliminal coding of a heroic character and I feel this has a lot to do with how our human brains work. The way we understand people and animals is by the way they mirror us. We like patterns and to draw parallels to ourselves. When someone is excited, we're excited. When someone's confused, we're confused. When someone's sad, we're sad. And so on. However when we're faced with something that doesn't react how we expect or reacts unpredictably, like Miguel throwing the empanadas back at Miles, it's sets off a warning in our brains. It's kind of like a predator hunting prey, which is the exact dynamic between Miles and Miguel by the end of the film.
However in Miles' mind, he has no idea why Miguel is being so antagonistic towards him. Even when Peter says, "He's always like this." Miguel remains stoic when Mayday is crawling around him and only moves to catch her and hand her back to Peter. Like with the empanadas, this is another example of Miguel's lack of ability to connect with the people in his environment other than through aggression and violence. It's why Miles calls out, "You have claws? Are you sure your Spider-man?" Because Spider-man is defined by his ability to connect with people - hero or villain.
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Then we get to another clawed antagonist who hunts Miles for the duration of the first Spiderverse's runtime. Much like Miguel, Prowler's movement is mostly unstoppable aggression. That is until he learns Miles is Spider-man. Aside from presenting as Aaron Davis, Prowler is most identifiable by his giant claws and the camera makes sure of it.
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It's only when Aaron learns who Miles is does he take off a claw to hold his hand in his final moments. Unlike Miguel, the claws are not exclusively attached to his suit - they are removable and thus Aaron is able to connect with the people in his environment outside of his identity as the Prowler.
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Which finally leads us to our other Prowler, who likewise is able to put on and take off the claws. But where am I going with this?
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I feel like in this scene the lighting and colour grading is doing the most work in making Prowler intimidating. Because unlike Aaron's Prowler, Miles' Prowler design is very casual for a villain. Which works for the character but without the claws and the mask, Miles looks just as scrawny as his Spider-man counter-part. It's almost too casual without those key identifiers. Which is why I think we're going to see a lot of Miles' Prowler without the claws and interacting with his family in the next film, as well as dealing with his own identity. Like Aaron in the first film and unlike Miguel in the second, we're going to see how Prowler connects with his environments beyond serving as a antagonistic foil to Miles.
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chaifootsteps · 3 months
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i saw an interview this morning where valentinos voice actor is asked about his characters relationship to the other vees and he briefly explains that vox and val in this weird gay relationship where they make out and do stuff but then straight up says "uhhhh i dont know what valentinos relationship is with velvet lol!"
the bar is in hell for women characters (pun intended) because a velvet USED to have a relationship with vox and val during the instagram days. i like that she was more like a daughter to him and that they bonded over violence! shit like that was what actually made valentino feel like a complex character who can be good and bad. because i literally cannot think of a single relationship hes on good terms with. voxvals whole appeal is that theyre toxic gay bitches! so having just ONE good relationship in his life, even if its just with his weird 30 year old coworker daughter, could actually make him feel like a person with layers like valentino fans desperately insist he is in the show.
since rn velvet just kind of. exists! she barely speaks to the other vees, doesn't seem to enjoy spending time with them unless she can film them dancing and making out, shes mostly frowning in the finale whenever vox opens his mouth, and never directly even speaks to val. why would val not speak to someone he lives (i think) and considers his equal?
like she very much has the ability to become a compelling fun character/villian when shes separated from the other vees. which sucks! because it just makes me wonder "would valentino or vox tangibly lose anything if velvet didnt work with them? and would anything change about their dynamic if she wasnt there?" and i know the answer is "probably not!"
the fact that no ones mentioned her despite s2 having a "heavier focus on the vees" is so fucking telling. she really doesnt feel like the backbone of the vees! she feels like the third wheel vox and val hired and she just stays with them for power despite her not speaking/having a relationship with them at all. its not even like the idea of "30 year old woman stops caring so much about her gay dads she created and slowly begins to resent them, working with them anyway for power" is a terrible idea, but i absolutely know thats not what viv intended. vel is absolutely an afterthought in the writing when shes with the other vees and its apart of what makes me dislike them now more then ever. if s1 couldnt even have velvet speak to the other vees about ANYTHING other then important business stuff (like, idk, fashion, technology, love potions, the few fucking things these characters have in common) then i doubt s2 is gonna be much better.
anyway velvet should leave the vees and get some granny gyatt from carmilla thank u 4 reading <3
Calling it now, season 2's going to contain as little Velvette as Viv can get away with. Because you said it best yourself -- she's not so much a character as a third wheel Vox and Val hired. If they're not around then she's sometimes allowed to shine, but if they are, forget it. It's all about them.
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caffinedragon · 8 months
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He knows what happened, he just doesn't feel like anyone would care.
This is a little long but it has been bothering me after i have seen several posts on how Halsin didn't realize what happened to him in the Underdark.
I have a different opinion:
Have people ever considered that Halsin talks that way about his trauma because of how little he believes people would care, and not that he doesn't understand what happened to him?
Now, I am speaking from my own personal experience as someone who has faced a lot of trauma(Nothing sexual thankfully) and who has been put in a semi leadership adjacent position during or after experiencing it, and let me tell ya, you quickly learn how much of a one sided affair that is.
From a young age I ended up being the person everybody in my friend group came to for advice and help, something I had taken pride in. However, I wouldn't realize how lonely that was until I was in my early 20's when the first time I tried to reach out for a fraction of that help I gave out back I got a response along the lines of, "Your life is so much better than mine, what do you need help for?"
And do you know what that does to someone?
I will tell ya.
You shut the fuck down.
You feel like you don't have the right to reach out for help.
Your the strong one.
Your the one everybody needs to look up to.
Your the one everyone believes is unshakable.
You don't need help.
You can do this all on your own.
Sound Familiar?
I am not in the camp that he doesn't understand what happened to him.
It's been 200 years at least and he didn't live most of his life in a society with social rules, forced power dynamics and complex politics and gender norms.
He knows what happened to him was horrific and wrong.
He knows how nature works. He studies it.
I doubt he is ignorant of the fact that the mind and body can operate separately.
He wouldn't be able to control his wild shape otherwise.
He tells you how he feared for his life and wanted to escape.
He explains how he was biding his time in order to survive.
Ever hear of undercover agents getting too deep and forgetting they were undercover?
But, despite this, he has also been around people long enough to notice how people might perceive his story.
he has interacted with people long enough to know that not everyone would be understanding.
I firmly believe that he talks the way he does about his trauma because he knows how people not only react to his physical appearance, but how they view him as this wise and strong unbreakable leader.
He said it himself, "People who see someone my size don't think i can get hurt or have feelings."
He talks like that about it because he has been made to feel that no one would care if he actually broke down.
To be able to do that, you need to trust the other person not to judge you or blow you off.
It puts you in an incredibly vulnerable position.
A vulnerable position Halsin couldn't really afford to put himself in due to everything that happened after.
Unless you have been in that position, you have no idea how scary that is.
And the only way to change that, is to find someone or someones, that allow you to be weak in front of them without judgement.
Which, even in this day and age, is very hard to do.
I am lucky that i have my best friend of 30+ years who let me realize that i had someone i could be weak in front of.
Halsin doesn't have and i think has ever had someone to be weak in front of by the time of the start of the game.
I know how hard it was to let my walls down at 36.
I cant imagine how hard that would be at 350.
If he can at all.
tl;dr: Halsin knows what happened to him was awful and horrific. He just believes no one would care if he spoke about it seriously because "People believe someone my size cant get hurt or have feelings."
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pagannatural · 2 months
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2.08 Crossroad Blues
-Absolute classic. Sam’s bossy ass saying Dean’s notoriety means they have to be more careful now, Dean flirting by calling him “you innocent, harmless young man you.” Sam feels overshadowed, or maybe he just wants them to be mentioned as a pair.
-Dean doesn’t want to help people who made demon deals, because he feels they’ve brought this on themselves. Sam notices that Dean is being weird about this when normally saving people is his jam. Sam notes this red flag in Dean’s behavior.
Something I just realized is that Sam didn’t seem to be this observant with John. Dean knows both John and Sam well but in different ways. He learned how to read John but he can sense Sam like a part of himself. Did Sam not learn how to read John? Did he not have to because understanding Dean was more central to his world and wellbeing? He looked up to Dean and trusted that they could take care of each other. This is part of what makes the dynamic between the three of them so striking. Sam didn’t seem to have that slight fear of John that Dean did, that comes from trying really hard to predict what a parent will say or do next.
-Dean kicks in the front door when Evan locks it, leads the way inside, and goes to kick in the office doors but Sam stops him by grabbing his leg
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which leaves him sort of leaning into Dean and holding his leg. Sam then opens the door because it was unlocked. I love this moment because it shows how close they are that Sam feels comfortable intercepting him physically and knew right away what Dean was going to do. It also shows Sam’s role in their relationship tempering Dean’s brute-force reactions, helping him slow down.
-Dean tells Evan unsympathetically “I think you did it for yourself so you wouldn’t have to live without her.”
This episode is so complex when you watch it in context. Right now Dean is mad at John for saving his life because he feels guilty, and because he was brought back to a world heavy with the crushing weight of his father’s absence and horrifying last edict.
But John most certainly didn’t bring Dean back because he didn’t want to live without him—John died right away. This is Dean contemplating bringing John back because he really needs his dad right now. He’s exhausted and he’s confused and he doesn’t know what to do about Sam and the responsibility is killing him. He looked up to John and thought he had all the answers. The temptation to make a deal and bring him back is ripe.
And then— we know that actually Dean would sell his soul for someone just like Evan did, like John did—someone he would rather die than live without, someone he loves with a desperation similar to Evan’s love for his wife. That person is Sam. Dean doesn’t realize this yet.
-Sam can tell what’s going through Dean’s head and becomes worried and scared, asking him not to go to the crossroads demon right now because “I don’t like where your head’s at.” He’s incredulous.
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Dean argues “You’re not allowed to say no, Sammy, not unless you got a better idea.” This sounds like it’s one of their rules for hunting. They’ll try the next best idea whatever that may be because doing something is better than doing nothing.
Sam says “Dean you can forget it, alright. I’m not letting you summon that demon.” He’s being SO protective. Dean will do whatever Sam says unless Sam says Don’t go do something dangerous.
Sam tries to make Dean stay.
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They talk about the likelihood that John made a similar deal, and Dean swallows and says “what if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul.” He waits for Sam’s reply, and seems truly afraid of what Sam will say, like Sam would say John shouldn’t have done that.
Sam gives him this look that’s got some fire in it, some conviction. Maybe he’s mad at Dean for his self-hatred.
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Sometimes I forget that at this point in the story, Sam has almost lost Dean twice. Both times Sam was willing to do anything to get Dean back. He finally has his big brother back after years apart, and he is no longer in a position to really be able to go back to his normal life. He needs Dean, and he chose Dean. I don’t want to come across like Sam doesn’t care about John because genuinely I think it’s made clear that he does, but it is very much supported by the text that Sam would rather have Dean back even with John in hell than lose Dean. He told Dean that he’s the only one who’s always been there for him, he trusts Dean, he feels loved and protected by Dean, and when Dean and John were both in peril he went to Dean.
But we don’t get to find out what Sam would say to Dean’s question, because they’re interrupted. Sam unhappily watches Dean go.
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-This whole scene where the crossroads demon offers to bring John back in exchange for Dean’s soul is so, so beautifully acted by Jensen. Dean’s plan all along is to trap the demon and exorcise her, and if he’s going to follow through, he can’t make that deal. He wants to. He feels guilty enough about John’s soul burning in hell for him forever, on top of his grief. When she finally steps into the trap he looks like he might cry. It worked, he moves forward with his plan without taking the deal offered. Why doesn’t he? It’s not what his dad would’ve wanted, obviously, and it’s not what Sam wants. Sam was explicitly worried about Dean making the deal and told him not to go. But I think it’s mostly that Dean hates demons. He makes quite a few sexual jokes this episode and talks about hitting on the front desk girl at animal control, but when the demon kisses him to seal their deal, he doesn’t even make a lascivious joke, he’s just disgusted—and the demon is possessing a beautiful woman who’s his type. His hatred for demons is personal. Demons quite literally killed his parents, ruined his life, and are mysteriously targeting and trying to corrupt his baby brother. They represent that black and white pure evil that he wants to salt and burn from the earth. So his feelings make sense.
-Dean talks about the way John died while he and Sam drive away. Dean doesn’t understand yet, what could make someone sell their soul to a demon.
I don’t think he has entertained the idea of what he would do if Sam died. The king of denial just won’t let it enter his brain.
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Sam understands, though. He answers Dean really softly.
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This is logical to Sam. He wanted John to prove he gave a shit about Dean, and he did. John did something right, and even though it makes Dean feel guilty, Sam would rather have a guilt-stricken Dean than no Dean.
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depravitycentral · 8 months
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Hii I think I've read all your hxh stuff but the Tumblr blog search is kinda scuffed so if you've already answered something like this just ignore me
Anyway I was curious to know how/if you think the phantom troupe members would share a partner. Like maybe not all of them sharing one partner (that's the dream fr tho lol) but maybe 2 or 3 members sharing one if any of them are into that
Then that leads me to my next two questions, Kurapika and Leorio, would they share a partner or are they just not into that
Then lastly (and if you don't write for them or have any ideas that's fine ignore this) do you think Silva and Kikyo would keep a little "pet" around?
Anyway sorry for the long ask, I guess I could have split this up but I didn't want to spam your box 😅 have a lovely day! ❤️
Please ignore how late this answer is... Also the answer to the Silva/Kikyo question will be posted separately!
Tw: kidnapping, mentions of physical violence, manipulation, mentioned non-con
I was wondering how long it would take before poly yanderes would be discussed on this blog!!
My personal philosophy on poly yandere relationships is that they only work in very, very specific circumstances. The whole concept of a yandere is someone who feels such blinding and overwhelming love and desire for another person that they literally throw their morals out the window just for the chance to bask in a bit of affection or love from their special someone, and adding another person into the equation doesn't exactly fit this vision.
Most yanderes don't want to share you - you're theirs, simple and plain, and often only a very specific person could be the one exception to this rule. Even then, the relationship is often still strained, because unless feelings develop between the two yanderes themselves, jealousy will always be an issue and you as the darling will have to be very careful about making sure you give equal amounts of love and time to each yandere.
But instead of focusing on the logistics of it, let's discuss the actual pairs/their dynamics!!
Machi and Pakunoda are the least resistant to sharing. They respect each other, and while it may be a stretch to call them friends, this respect and trust has led to a solid foundation for them to build off of. Neither are especially forceful with their darlings, instead preferring to hover and take care of them with minimal physical force, and this helps keep both of them placated. Machi is sort of the bad cop while Pakunoda is the good cop, but the reason this pairing works so well is that they help bring out qualities in each other that would normally be their weak points. Pakunoda helps Machi relax and warm up to physical affection with her, because her own natural touchiness is easier to convince Machi that touching you won't be the disaster she's so sure of. And Machi helps Pakunoda attend to every facet of your wellbeing - Machi properly feeds you, tends to any wounds of yours, makes sure that you're getting enough sunlight, that you're still moving and not becoming lethargic, all things that Pakunoda knows she should do but sometimes skips in favor of kissing you or spoiling you. These two are definitely the best pair to get stuck with - still overbearing about your safety and hard to handle always watching you, but certainly better than others.
Shalnark and Chrollo are, admittedly, not equal players in this partnership. Most likely, Shalnark initially became interested in you, and upon Chrollo's eventually learning of your existance, he found himself charmed as well. Shalnark wasn't the happiest at the notion of sharing, but he sees the partnership as an opportunity to help keep you in line and make himself look good. He and Chrollo are both very, very talented manipulators, and by playing off of each other, they're able to present themselves as simply loving partners, managing to gaslight you into thinking that you're overreacting about them being 'horrible' and 'evil' for kidnapping you and forcing you to be their partner. And frankly, it works - they're convincing, and because you get no reprieve or time away from them both at once, eventually you will begin seeing things their way. This isn't a particularly desirable relationship, if only because while you'll eventually be happy (your mind too mixed up to even realize you're unhappy, that is), you'll lose a piece of yourself in a way that you wouldn't with other pairings. You'll be somewhat of a shell of your former self - still you, but with the parts that they like emphasized, and the more problematic parts of your personality (like your desire to leave them) being repressed.
Uvogin and Nobunaga is possible, but it's unlikely that things would last long. This is because Nobunaga is particularly delusional, and Uvogin is particularly lucid. And this combo - Nobuanga's infantilization of you and Uvogin's leniency in your independence - spells out disaster. Things would be tense; arguments would sprout often, with you left to awkwardly stand in the middle, desperately hoping that Uvogin will win the argument. (You don't like him either, but at least his ideas are less dehumanizing than Nobunaga's.) I think it could work, if they worked hard enough to establish how to treat you, but you'd be constantly walking on eggshells around them. (Plus, if you think your poor pussy is getting a little too much action with just one of them as your yandere, then get ready - they fuck you every night, nearly, one taking your cunt while the other shoves himself down your throat. Occasionally they'll even try for your ass, though Uvogin has the sense to force Nobunaga to get you properly prepped before he fucks what he thinks is 'her best hole - it's so tight'. They're just gross, and you'll very obviously favor Uvogin - which once again sparks problems of jealousy. So it's possible, but unlikely to work out.
Phinks and Feitan is another unlikely combo - their types are very different, firstly, but if they did manage to develop feelings for you, things will become very violent very fast. Neither wants to hurt you (at least, not deep down), but they don't exactly agree on how to punish you or respond to your misbehaviors. Feitan is more strict, deciding that you must be punished when you act out because it's the only way to get you to behave how they want. Phinks doesn't share this mindset - he's more of a sucker than Feitan, more inclined to just make you promise not to do it again and then naively believe that you meant it. And this leads to problems - their treatment of you is so radically different, both in the way that they speak to you and how they touch you, that they'll be fighting over nearly everything. And while you won't ever be physically harmed, you'll be subject to watch them physically fight when they're arguing, swinging fists and lightning fast moves making you curl up into a ball because god, they're monsters. Again, it's possible if they can figure out a system that's a compromise for both of them, but it's unlikely.
This probably isn't the answer you're looking for, but it's my opinion! There are probably some more pairings that could potentially work, but these are the ones I see being most likely.
Unrelated to the Phantom Troupe, some other pairs I could see being potentially successful are: Leorio and Kurapika (they're into that!! more protection, as far as Kurapika is concerned, and Leorio is more clingy than possessive, so he wouldn't mind sharing with his best friend whom he is already displaying borderline homoerotic tendencies towards), Knuckle and Morel, Misturi and Obanai, Uzui + wives, Douma and Akaza though it would be very, very rocky and is significantly more unstable than these other matchups, Aizawa and Hizashi, Overhaul and Chrono, Tendou and Ushijima, Bokuto and Akaashi, Hinata and Kenma, don't ask me why but Goshiki and Kindaichi, Kita and Aran, Suna and Osamu
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astolfofo · 1 year
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bruh i wrote this on a whim. but it needs to be said.
tw: manipulation, yandere. Nothing too much. It’s pretty mild, but it’s dazai so idk what to say. 
bruh if this flops im gonna actually cry tho. I actually used my brain to write this. even tho I used causual language and this ain’t that formal ughsdfhlkdsj. but also sorry if it’s really bad. I didn’t even proofread this I just copy and pasted it into tumblr. Also, if the ending’s kinda messy or if there’s like grammar mistakes... pls tell me I literally am so braindead rn i can’t read
would also tag people this was inspired by but this is actually half shitpost and that would be hella rude of me to do that so. lmfao. (translate: i don’t have the balls)
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I see so many people thinking that Dazai would fall for someone cheerful, and bubbly, who would approach him first.
Honestly, I disagree.
I think the opposite. Maybe it’s because I see part of myself in Dazai (and Yozo from the No Longer Human), or maybe because it’s simply because I’m not a bubbly, happy, person in general (but i wanna be with him jkjk unless… ) but. I personally disagree with that headcannon, I don’t really see it happening. Obviously, there are cases of characters liking an innocent, sweet, bubbly darling (cough. Nikolai. Chuuya. Akutagawa. Atsushi.) But, for Dazai… I feel like that would be too boring for him. Not as in he wouldn’t like it that way… but it would be too easy for him, ya know? Like there’s no challenge, there’s no… interest in doing that. Why would Dazai want someone so open, so innocent, so bubbly and kind, who would listen to anything he said? That’s not even genuine, that’s fake. Everyone has their own secrets, their lies, and they create a fake mask for everyone else to see. They wouldn’t want to show their true self… because it’d make them not only look bad… but also we’d all be extremely vulnerable. And violent.
Dazai knows this better than anyone else. I’d like to think, anyways. And innocent people like that, whether genuine or not, usually would deter him because they’re… too easy to pursue. Despite being a good liar himself, I don’t think he’d want someone who would fake the niceness, because it would be obvious from the start. Dazai doesn’t strike me as someone who would enjoy breaking his darling down (that’s Fyodor’s thing bro would definitely like someone who is fake). He has some morality, he doesn’t like using mind break. After all, that goes against what Oda told him to do. However, he’d definitely enjoy mind games, he’d like to pick you apart to get to know you better. Better than you know yourself. And once he does, he can leverage you however he likes to be his ideal woman. Even that manga q and a (I’lll find the link later) said that Dazai likes all women because he can make them into what he wants. Someone who’s outright innocent and kind wouldn’t be able to achieve that effect for him. It doesn’t offer him the challenge, it doesn’t offer him any kind of challenge in just manipulating someone innocent who barely hides anything. That would be a bad thing, and even his skwered sense of whatever morals he has would disagree with it. He wouldn’t even be able to fall for someone like that. Simple-minded people, just aren’t for him.
So, in prose, I’d like to offer an alternate idea: Dazai would like a darling that’s, obviously to a similar intelligence as him (otherwise they’d be… too easy), but very distant. Not as in a “they have a mask on”, kind of way. But in a. They’re apathetic, cold, and aren’t great at communicating kind of way. I think it’s an interesting dynamic. The first time when Dazai sees them, he may not even think much of them. Neutral cold face doesn’t say many sentences and wants him to leave. Maybe a slight fear of him, that he approached them. However, as time passes by, Dazai realizes he likes them. He genuinely craves their presence. He notices the way you don’t exactly know what his motives are, he enjoys the way you flinch when he touches your hands, or blush and do not know how to respond to his comments.
He sees all of it. And he wants to see who you really are. Behind your true mask. Maybe you’re a narcissist. Maybe you’re just a kind innocent person. Or maybe… you’re just as empty and lonely as he is. Whatever you are, he’ll eventually turn you into what he wants. It’s just a matter of time.
It’s like he’s looking at a Christmas present, and trying to guess the contents inside. The curiosity kills him. He wants to look at what it is now, but he can’t. He can’t. Until it’s Christmas day. So in the meantime, he’ll do everything except pull down the thin wrapping paper, and the apathetic, cold face you put on for everyone around you. It’s rather difficult actually, you do a pretty good job at covering your true self. You’re a skilled liar, you can control any physical reactions you have towards his questions.
But that just makes it all the more addictive.
The second you slip up, even just for a tiny. Little. Bit. Dazai is able to pinpoint a lot about you. It’s almost like he tore off a corner of the wrapping paper on his present, and he’s knows a lot about what it is. It’s more than he expected. It was just one facial expression. A face of shock, to anger, and then you calm yourself to the best of your abilities again. It’s barely noticeable to the average person. But that’s the thing. Dazai isn’t average. 
He’s the smartest man you’ll ever know.
It makes you feel conflicted. And you’re aware this is probably where Dazai wants you to be. And it is. Dazai finally was able to make a dent on the thin walls inside your mind. The walls that separated your true self, from others. And he’d pick and tear down these walls continuously until he was able to see inside.
But for Dazai... it’s his Christmas day. Dazai felt like his efforts... his waiting, his long awaited efforts were finally rewarded. All it took was one little slip on your behalf, one tiny little tear, for the wrapping paper to completely fall off. And as it lays discarded on the floor, Dazai admires the gift. He admires you. Your mind is such a vulnerable place. Yet in its own way, it’s beautiful and fragile. He feels like he physically cannot tarnish it. Yet... you’re so much more different than he thought. 
You’re niether a kind person, nor a violent one. You’re not broken, you’re not depressed nor anxious nor scared. You’re not nearly what he idealizes so much, and you’re not some insane slave to your ideals. No... what was inside that box and wrapping paper all this time was similar to a piece of piece of glass. Plainly boring in its own way... yet beautiful if shaped in the right hands. 
You’re a blank slate. Sure, you have your own trauma, your own struggles, desires, and wishes but... he’ll still do as he wants to you. 
And you won’t have a single say in it. 
You’re a blank slate. A canvas waiting to be drawn on. And draw on you he will. 
He’ll admire you, he’ll protect you, he’ll... do anything and everything to make you love him. You’ll.... you’ll learn to love him.
And in return, you’ll be the only one who will see and understand his true self.
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harbingersglory · 1 month
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miko is SO REAL for that, two switches fighting over who gets to dom is the best dynamic. if you have time/want to i'd be curious to hear any sub headcanons you have for lisa, ei, ningguang and/or kafka!
this is so incredibly self indulgent because i see ningguang, ei and kafka in the same sentence and explode. everyone pretend i didnt accidentally pick a fav here um
ningguang i already see as a pillow princess more than anything she fits this so well. absolutely adores going slow + worship. treat this woman like royalty and lord you will not regret it. she goes all out to make the night as perfect as possible. will not let you have a hand in any of it sorry!! this is her turf. perfect atmosphere suited to your tastes (tons of candles, if you like that, or just going by moonlight is also her style). incense, taking a few minutes beforehand just to really get settled in the mood (usually by cuddling, but shes not against just taking a moment for some tea or even a game of chess).
you'll also probably need all that extra time to sort through whatever shes bought this time. when i said she goes the whole nine yards i mean it. she has money and she will use it. very expensive lingerie for herself (and you, if thats your thing.) and literally anything you could ever want. it heavily depends on what you both want out of the night but she spares no mora making it the best she can.
the non-sexual intimacy before hand (and especially after) is important to her she takes it very seriously (for the both of you). you'll probably get dragged into taking a long bath afterwards before actually going to bed. hope you arent too tired! because its gonna be a while before you actually sleep.
because this woman has stamina. technically. she's just really pent up and theres no better way to get that stress out then soft sex with her partner. shes not picky about positions really but she has a soft spot for laying on her stomach with a pillow to prop up her hips (really accentuates the pillow princess part, huh /j). if you start massaging her she's gonna wake up the entirety of liyue. she's normally quiet but lord knows she needs it and she cant keep quiet for the life of her.
genuinely just very soft and gentle. she just needs some good pampering after a long day to unwind (preferably with a glass of wine, but thats for later).
ei..is very awkward about it. she probably gets embarrassed if you bring it up but shes not. opposed per se. she's just used to domming that she has no idea what to do. genuinely a mess the first time around but she gets the hang of it quick (shes a quick learner :])
also you just really get to see a side of her you usually never do! she's usually big on topping and shes pretty calm and composed about it (usually). not cold, just..she doesn't outwardly express things often. except when shes subbing. its like a switch flipped
just dont tease her about how visibly flustered and awkward she is about it. because she is. horribly so. shes still pretty quiet but thats just ei, to be fair. its like a cute, nervous puppy. call her a good girl though and she might short circuit so badly the shogun comes out
though i also see ei as someone who prefers giving even when subbing. a dangerous combo considering her body is a puppet and, yknow, cant get tired. you will have to pry this woman off you shes lowkey insatiable when it comes to pleasing you. 100% less of a brat, though. you give her an order shes following through with it before you can blink. efficient!
kafka is similar to miko, imo. maybe yelan too?? she gives off big brat vibes when she subs. she wont use suggestion in bed unless your 100% cool with it and even then its usually when she doms but when she subs? shes a menace. bit of a masochist, to be honest. she'll push your buttons until you crack and decide to punish her but woops, thats just what she wants so she wins anyway!
she cant feel fear but she certainly enjoys a good thrill. specifically sensory deprivation. cover her eyes with a blindfold and keep her guessing. its probably her favorite part, the closest she can get to fear. especially if you add a bit of pain into it.
choking, spanking, bit of blood..this woman is smiling through it all like she's the happiest woman in the world. especially if it makes you frustrated. shes like it desperate and rough.
if thats not your speed, though, she can get that thrill in other ways. semi public sex is her jam so sandwich her against a wall in some random supply closet and make her scream. shes not quiet even in the comfort of whatever room shes booked this time and you'll have to physically shut her up if you dont want to get caught. shes still a brat at heart, though. put your fingers in her mouth and she'll bite. your gonna need the patience of a saint to dom kafka.
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gilverrwrites · 3 months
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reader having to adjust to michael and adam in the same body together (maybe a twinge of angst), but reader slowly grows to love michael just as much as they love adam <3
Growing to love Michael as much as you love Adam
Author note: This is very Michael heavy, I think at some point I wanna do something that either more Adam centric, or fully about them both. Also I have some ideas brewing for an actual fic, maybe?
Rating: General
Genre: Fluff, mild angst.
Words: 982
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Please remember: Not to worry about thing's you cannot control.
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Seeing Adam after so long was surreal.
He’d changed so much; he wasn’t just older, taller, stronger.
He was always laid back and practical, but now he’s more self-assured and perceptive. 
And surprisingly well-adjusted for a man who had just spent more than a millennia in hell.
In some ways, it was easy to fall back into strides with him. He’d grown and changed, but he was still the man you loved.
The hardest part was Michael.
Sometimes it felt like you were the 3rd wheel. You knew Adam first, you loved him first, but Michael had known him longer. Try explaining that to literally anyone.
Although honestly, explaining any part of Adam, Michael, and your whole dynamic to anyone would be complicated.
Now that they’re free of the cage, Michael could so easily return to Heaven. He could repress Adam's mind, take his body, and do as he pleases, but he doesn’t. He’s sacrificing everything for him. How are you supposed to compare?
Sometimes Adam will clock out of a conversation, absorbed in something else with Michael.
They have stories, and inside jokes you can never really be a part of.
It’s lonely, waking up in an unexpectedly empty bed.
Being stood up because Michael had other plans.
Raising the issues with them garners sympathy and promises of change from Adam, but Michael is less responsive, which doesn’t give you much hope.
Change is a three-way street in this case. 
However, you suspect they discussed the issue between themselves at some point, because change does come.
You’d finish dinner with Adam, but Michael would help you clean up.
He has offered to use his mojo, "so much faster and easier", but Adam doesn’t want to rely too much on it. You tend to agree, unless you’re feeling lazy.
And Michael is always quick to agree when you ask. Who knew Michael could be the naughty one.
You’d plan a game/puzzle night, which Michael would get invested in, and take control of. Especially if it is strategy-based.
You’d come home at the end of a hard day, and often, Michael was the one who would listen.
At first it was:
“Your whining is displeasing; I implore you to stop.”
But over time, he becomes more sympathetic, more interested in your feelings and day-to-day life.
Until he greets you with questions about your friends, or on-going dramas. Asking if you have had a better day today.
He asks you a lot of questions. Mainly about Earth, humanity, and culture at first. Adam is a sufficient guide to the human world, but he is a little behind the times.
And you can’t deny how cute he is when he repeats slang words back at you, or attempts to use them.
“What is ‘clickbait’?” “You’re home, how was work? Please ‘spill the tea’.” “Your clothing? Oh yes, it is ‘slaying’. Is that the correct term?”
Adam, who is also learning many of these words for the first time as well, is cringing so hard in their head.
Over time his questions get more personal. Your friends, family, hobbies, etc.
He knows a lot of it already. From Adam talking about you in the cage, from his memories, and from listening to conversations you have had since reuniting. They’re both always there really, even if you’re not interacting with one directly.
But there is a difference between first-hand and second-hand experiences.
And you enjoy having someone else to talk to about these things, another perspective.
You’d grown to like his company, for an Angel he's surprisingly compassionate, at least when he wants to be anyway.
Eventually, he trusts you enough to divulge information about his own family and his very long existence.
Sometimes you would wake up in Michael’s embrace. Which wasn’t necessarily unpleasant.
Even in the dark and the silence of night, you can tell the difference.
Adam's touch is soft, warm, and comforting. He makes you feel at ease.
Michael is solid, and protective. He makes you feel safe.
Until eventually, while you don’t quite feel like you’re on par with Michael, you do feel welcome.
You like him in fact.
Maybe you like him a little too much, considering he is not your boyfriend.
Your feelings for Adam haven’t lessened at all, but how can you spend 50% of your time with Michael, who is insightful, wise, inquisitive, and so damned cute. Who makes you feel safe, and valued...
And not develop some feelings.
Which complicates things further. It puts you on edge. Makes you worried about accidentally crossing a line.
How is one supposed to act around their boyfriend when their boyfriend isn’t their boyfriend, and also you have feelings for both the boyfriend and the not boyfriend, you know? Totally relatable, right?
All those mixed feelings of inadequacy when compared to Michael and the uncertainty when spending time with him are not happy or healthy ways to feel in a relationship.
You have to broach the subject, with them both, and Michael has something to say immediately.
“We are not in competition. I can assure you Adam loves us both in different ways, in equal measure.” But he’s not Adam half the time. He’s you! You’re not Adam, you don’t love me, I don’t know how to behave around you. “Are you certain you are human?” What? “Humans are not the most astute. However, sometimes you are as dense as osmium.” Are you calling me stupid?! “I urge you to stop and consider your words for a moment. I find it incredibly upsetting and frankly offensive that you believe me to be so incapable of loving you, as foolish and naïve as you may be.”
Adam knew, the whole time. The whole damn time.
He just needed the two of you to figure it out on your own first.
There’s a lot of conversation to be had between the three of you from there.
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blasphemecel · 17 days
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ngl still being a kaiser fan after 261 is lame
Omg this ask got me so tight when I got to it I had to hop on mylaptop to type my essay
Ok this is a little Personal and some of yall aren gonna fuck with me after this but it's ok . Kaiser is a character I identify with because he's a good portrayal of someone with NPD so WE WILL GET INTO IT!
So like that being said. What do you mean 'Still liking Kaiser after the leaks is lame' like genuinely what do you mean. I just woke up but are you guys like SURPRISED by this. I liked him when he was introduced and this is what he was acting like. There have been A HUNDRED more chapters of him acting the same way past introduction. And now he's still acting like it. I understand if you just hate him right off the bat that makes sense but this doesn't really. Even if you're one of those people who just liked him for the backstory reveal because you have a I Can Treat You Better hero complex re:abuse victims that behavior WAS shown EVEN IN 260. "I hit the ball but it doesn't hit back" - the author has a very specific way of writing and this was VERY much intentional
Also like I understand there might be an initial shock when reading such words. Like it's Unpleasant it's Ugly. But also it boils down to a State of mind which personally I've observed as common among victims of severe trauma. "These people are born 'humans'. Different from me, they were born 'wanted humans'." = I hate people who weren't hurt the same way I was because I am jealous and bitter, I'm so jealous and bitter it feels good to me to make others feel like shit. And I'm not trying to get on some Hurt People Hurt People bullshit because that shit is annoying and apologia but what I'm trying to say is that sometimes Trauma makes you unpleasant and ugly and erratic and I appreciate that Kaneshiro actually wrote it out. Also like that feeling by itself isn't inherently evil. I think it's a very natural response! In this case Kaiser goes too far not by experiencing this emotion but by acting on it.
So now with THAT out of the way too, I think we need to sit down and think more into the Ness situation. So first he says, "I can't accept kindness because all I know is malice. If anything I think malice makes life easier." Then he goes to say he is specifically looking for someone to make a "dog to his malice" and reads a psychology book to achieve that. Like first of all I'm sorry but that is so comically evil it's hilarious to me. He read a textbook to be a more efficient male manipulator. But anyway the way I understand that isn't a deep underlying evil within him but a need for control. I think he believes everyone will hurt and disorient him unless he feels like he's Controlling them. From an abusive household the only relationship dynamic he knows is person of authority - inferior party. His only friend is Ness and the only person he feels safe around being Ness is because of he tells himself Ness is his "dog" and therefore won't ever raise a hand to him. And that's because he thinks anyone who isn't his dog/under his control will do exactly that.
And so... If we go from there, from the parallel we understand Kaiser didn't see his meeting with Ness the same way Ness sees it. However, that doesn't mean Kaiser's view is the objective truth. I think they're both UNRELIABLE and EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE. So what that means is that Ness sees his time together with Kaiser through a more glorified lens, while Kaiser denies himself thinking of Ness as a companion because that puts him in a vulnerable spot, so to maintain his feeling of being in control he exerts distance and tells himself Heh we aren't actually friends because he doesn't even know that one time I giggled at him in the showers I was actually just manipulating him all along because I am sooo evil and untouchable 😏. Like do we actually take this perception at face value here because to me it just seems like a Scared and Cowardly person trying to act out his idea of a strong person because the ONLY other time he's been in any meaningful proximity to someone he got beat up and degraded.
With that I also think Kaiser is very much narcissist posturing. He'slying to himself to make himself seem invulnerable and self-aggrandizing himself through his malice (I think pretending we are 100% evil and irredeemable makes a lot of us feel safe because it seems inhuman and people are easily hurt so you don't Ever want to be a multidimensional person with layered personality traits). Because like if you think about it without the emotional reaction of "I hope Ness kills you you stupid whore" that we all have... He actually isn't doing anything that big. Like in his head he's like Heh I'm soooo Patrick Bateman I have all the control 😏 but all he did was like find a guy to play football with.
Like he's trying to say to himself that he's all that. Sure he does insult Ness and that's not good! But he didn't pull off some Complicated deeply horrific scheme. I do not believe Kaiser has an objective view of himself. It really takes away the power from all of that when you realize what he's doing is just Very Pathetic and Paranoid and Intimacy Averse. "I can't have normal friends let me get this guy in on my master servant roleplay and I'll act like he's not enjoying it too because it'll make me feel more powerful" Men will do anything but go to counseling
Addendum: This is also not Kaiser. Now I don't know what kind of person Kaiser is but considering I read it as him suffering from NPD/a disordered personality that means he doesn't have a "real" identity most of the time, this is a shell we're seeing. He just has a mask maybe there's something underneath maybe there isn't and he's empty inside, but the point is he is the kind of character who has a specific way they want to portray themselves and will lie to both themselves and the audience to achieve it. Yes I believe that includes the I'm a male manipulator evilest person alive 😏 shtick too (I think the actual truth is probably somewhere in the middle of his and Ness's view. Most likely they're both incorrect).
Notice how Barou and Rin overcame things? That is because they have a real ego. Kaiser doesn't have a "real ego"/sense of self right now, all he has is his selfish act. I believe that is intentional because I think the Blue Lock mangaka shows a good grasp and understanding of psychology. The development is pointing towards him actually getting one during this match we'll see. Hey he might even change and grow as a person if that happens but I wouldn't get too overly optimistic!
Also we need to understand that we only see these people playing football we don't know what the fuck he's like outside of that. I currently don't have any reason to believe he's anything beyond rude and insufferable when like talking to people who aren't his football rivals and in Blue Lock on principle I believe everyone is at least 30% a better more bearable person off the field.
And to finish off my demented rant some of yall are fucking HYPOCRITICAL. So when Isagi takes joy in ruining people's dreams it's fine but when Kaiser does it he needs to kill himself? Let's be very serious.
TL;DR Kaiser's behavior makes total sense, his 261 characterization falls in line with everything we've seen of him before so there's no need for shock, and he looked good being dysfunctional and messed up too
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