#maybe my perception of everything is wrong

[nandermoenthusiast]

oh my god i got so emotional SHUT UUUUUP

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

The paranormal is super interesting to me. I think a lot of people see the bad side of it because they don’t treat entities with respect and sensationalize them. Rationally, if they are real dead people, then they should be treated as one would any other human; if they are spirits, then they are simply another species as intelligent as ourselves, and should also be treated with the utmost sensitivity, since their culture is likely different than our own due to their lack of physical bodies. Terms like “angel” and “demon” moralize these phenomena, and could possibly be taken as slurs by non-corporeal beings who understand the language these words are spoken in.

I dislike the term “ghost hunting” because the wording is much like the kind you’d use to refer to hunting a species of animal. I also dislike the concept of commercialized haunted locations. Imagine someone — who believes you are a horrifying monster — barging into your home with cameras, hoping to take pictures of you. Imagine someone opening up your house as a tourist attraction — a zoo — for the whole world because they think they can make money off of how creepy you are… Honestly, I don’t think the ghosts are the ones being creepy.

Yeah, I’d be strangling people and throwing shit across the room too if I had to deal with the clout-obsessed, phone-toting paparazzi that are living humans.

[muninnhuginn]

having a growing appreciation of character dynamics that involve pedestals breaking. where a character thinks another character their god, only to realise that they're human after all.

sometimes that leads to heartbreak, betrayal. but other times, they grow from it and build a stronger relationship as a result. a more mutual one.

[diabeticgirl4]

I've noticed that since travis learned (in a talks episode iirc) that caduceus basically poured all his stats into wisdom, he's made a habit of constantly asking him "what do your elf firbolg eyes see" and/or specifically asking his insight/perception on things and he doesn't do that type of thing w any other character and idk if I'm just being overly petty or what but idk it just. Irks me. Rubs me the wrong way. Just a tiny bit. :/

[daosies]

all the wrongs (make a right)

when you ask them to set you up with someone else.

or at least, that's what they interpreted it as.

wanderer, wriothesley, diluc ♡ gn!reader

warnings: diluc may be ooc (but he's funny), yapping

notes: WRIOTHESLEY... THE MAN U ARE...

you like someone else.

wanderer doesn't know how to deal with that fact—because of course you do. why would you ever love someone like him, anyway? who is he to even consider love, when he has none of it to give?

when he was created, love built him fiber by fiber. love constructed his eyes, love blessed him with sight and touch, love allowed him to perceive. because in this world, perception is the basis of love, and when wanderer was allowed to perceive, he was allowed to love.

he had love. lots of it, even. there was so much love in his being that it spilled from his eyes, dancing across the oasis of his irises and manifesting into stars. when the wanderer was created, he was ready to be loved, he was ready to love.

and then he was discarded—with all his love—because he was not enough.

(he wonders what it would take for him to be kept. for someone to cherish him despite his artificial limbs, his heartless chest.)

(he wonders what it would be like if he were cherished, even for just a little bit, by you.)

from across the lecture hall, wanderer stares at your figure. his eyes, which once manifested stars and dripped with love, trace over the bridge of your nose and the curl of your lips. wanderer stares at you, basking in the mundane, romanticizing the ordinary because for some reason, under the lights, you look ethereal.

(he would rather die than admit that outloud.)

he stares and stares, oblivious to the fact that stars have reappeared, that they begin to scatter across his irises like a mosaic of love. because the wanderer is unlike himself when it comes to you—he's enamored, he's taken, he's smitten.

when you blink, his chest throbs, and the nothingness in between his ribs becomes something—something akin to a heart, maybe—because you turn nothingness into everything, and all of a sudden wanderer feels a buzz in his chest. if he stares at you long enough, the buzz begins to sound like this: thump-thump, thump-thump.

suddenly, you turn to look at him.

his breath hitches.

you smile, and his heart aches.

then you look away. as if none of it mattered to you, as if your smile were a simple little thing, as if your eyes and your attention were meaningless.

but none of it is ever meaningless, because when he's in your presence, and when he has just a mere wisp of your existence, the wanderer breathes. he does not need to breathe (like humans do)—but when you look at him, your gaze sweeping over him like a golden light, he becomes human.

his humanity manifests in the form of a stolen breath, stagnating in his synthetic lungs in order to catch you for just a second. to adore you, within him, for but a moment.

when you meet up with him after class, wanderer feels his stomach churn (like humans feel). he feels something crawl up his throat—disgust, probably—when you look at him with those oh-so pretty eyes of yours, and when you talk to him with that oh-so pretty voice of yours.

(what has he been reduced to?)

"sorry to make you do this, wanderer!" you exclaim, bashful. "you really don't have to help me talk to him! just let me know if you don't want to, okay?"

earlier, you had asked him to help set you up with some nobody. something along the lines of, "i need my thesis project approved" or whatever, but wanderer knows mortals.

he knows that they have ulterior motives in everything they do, and the way your gaze averted from his and the way you fiddled nervously with your fingers when asking him for help was enough for him to deduce: you liked the person you were meeting up with.

"i mean—" you suddenly add, trying to fill in the awkward silence that's caused by wanderer's frustration, "he's a really scary guy, so i get it!"

"hah," he replies bitterly. "scary? yeah, right."

because what could be scarier than him? a puppet whose previous incarnations committed deeds of mass destruction, a puppet whose previous incarnations still exist with him in the present.

wanderer's past incarnations come in the form of hatred, and hatred festers all across his bones and makes its way onto his expression as he stares at you with longing. because wanderer wants you—and what would it take for you to want him back? what would he have to do, to have a mere fraction of your existence?

(but the hatred within his being grows larger. it takes over his ribs and his skin, because wanderer is a disgusting product of his previous incarnations, and his previous incarnations would never be satisfied with a mere fraction of you. his previous incarnations—and him—want all of you.)

"he really is, though! everyone in the akademiya fears him 'cause he always rejects their thesis projects—i mean, i'm scared too, but if you're there then maybe it won't be so bad!" you explain, waving your hands around for emphasis. the wanderer latches onto the fact that you need him there, that you want him to be there for the sake of comfort.

he thinks bitterly to himself: you're the only one who'd find comfort in me. and there you go again, your attention leaping beyond him, traveling towards greater heights that he will never, ever be able to catch up with. because one thing about mortals is that they are fickle, they are fleeting and they are dangerous, not to him—never him—but to each other.

one thing about mortals is that, in the face of love, they will do anything. they will look back for a brief second and lose it all, just for a glimpse of what could've been. one thing about mortals is that they'll do anything, everything for the person they love, all because it makes them happy.

as he trails after you, observing the back of your head with all the bitterness he can muster—none, when it comes to you—wanderer sighs.

(what has he been reduced to?)

you lead him towards a large door, and wanderer's chest stutters. he realizes that you're headed straight towards the grand sage's office, where many akademiya students loathe to be. but there are some outliers who want to enter that office, who want to exist inside of it because of the sage himself.

(something along the lines of the grand sage being attractive or whatnot. wanderer doesn't know, and frankly, he doesn't care. unless it comes to you, of course.)

what was his name again? wanderer thinks. but he doesn't have time to mull over the details because he just can't let you go there—wanderer doesn't want you to leave him behind those grand oak doors, left to exist with himself when you're just across from him.

he's always been star-far from you, perpetually longing to reach out and catch even a wisp of your light. and now that opportunity is irrevocably close.

wanderer is going to seize a star; he's going to grasp your radiating atmosphere, let himself get pulled in by your gravity, and he's going to rest there forever and ever.

his hand reaches for your wrist, stopping you just before you reach the doors of doom.

(what has he been reduced to?)

"don't go," wanderer states. although his tone is stern, there's an unmistakable softness to his voice, his fingers clasped around yours as if he's afraid you'll be whisked away by the world, leaving him alone and betraying him once again.

"but my thesis project—"

"don't go," he repeats, "stay here." with me, his mind adds.

something crawls up his throat, his gaze suddenly averting yours as his free hand comes to tilt his hat down, masking his expression with its golden rim.

he holds his breath.

"alright," you respond. "is everything okay, wanderer?"

he doesn't respond. he tugs at your arm and pulls you close to him—so, so close—and chooses to exist in the silence. with you.

after a couple minutes, you hear wanderer mutter quietly to himself: "who even needs a thesis project?"

"uh, everyone who wants to graduate," you reply. wanderer rolls his eyes.

"who would even want to graduate?"

"me?" you respond, confused. wanderer looks away.

"whatever."

"eventually, i have to talk to him anyway—" you start, but wanderer quickly cuts you off.

"no, you don't."

"what?"

"nevermind. you wouldn't get it."

(what has he been reduced to?)

(a human.)

"what?" wriothesley says, almost incredulously. ''you want to know what clorinde's favorite flower is?"

"yeah," you reply. "i'm thinking of mailing it to her soon because i'll be too busy in the underworld to go out."

wriothesley briefly considers dispatching you on a deep sea expedition before realizing that if you're far from clorinde—underground—then you'll also be far from him, and he's not sure if he can handle that.

"well, you know, i don't really know her all that well..." he trails off, lacing his fingers together professionally. "it's a shame, really. maybe you can give her something else?"

"oh, like a box of chocolates?"

he blinks, his mind venturing to the worst scenarios. are you confessing to her? are you trying to court her? what's with all these romantic gifts?

it's unmistakable, the way his heart aches and squirms within his ribs. it's unmistakable, the way he feels something stutter one-too-many times within his chest, the tempo of his heart becoming slower and slower when, in your presence, it typically races.

but wriothesley swallows his envy and opts to relish under your gaze, feigning ignorance to the way his heart constricts a little, his ribs beginning to close in on themselves.

"well, clorinde is fond of anything that comes from your heart," wriothesley says, trying to ease the strain of his voice. "so anything you give her will definitely convey your feelings for her."

you chuckle to yourself, amused at the thought. "yeah, my feelings."

wriothesley doesn't quite know how to explain it, but the way you speak of your feelings for clorinde makes him want to give into the world and forget everything. because your expression is so lighthearted, so cheery, it makes him hate himself for wishing that it belonged to him. for wishing that you would ever, could ever, feel about him the same way you feel about clorinde.

he's selfish. too selfish. and maybe that's why you don't like him, and maybe that's why he doesn't deserve you, not now and not ever.

damn this heart of his.

"so, how long have you been planning this for?" wriothesley asks, forcing his signature grin. but the way his lips twitch a little, and the way his leg bounces up and down gives away everything.

you like someone else. for how long? wriothesley wonders, chuckling bitterly to himself. for how long have you liked clorinde?

how long has he spent, pining helplessly after you, only to realize that it was never going to work out? how could he even begin to perceive the thought of loving you, to even contemplate a time beyond what you've already given him?

he's such a fool.

"a couple of months," you say, fiddling with your fingers. wriothesley's such a fool, because the way he notices your tiny habits and the way he ogles at your embarrassed expression makes him want to continue falling hopelessly in love with you. even though you like someone else. even though you're discussing "someone else" right in front of him—he wants to love you anyway.

because that's just the kind of lovesick, hopeless fool he is.

"oh? a long time, huh?" he replies, hoping you don't notice the way he struggles to speak, the way words fail to leave his mouth the way he should.

wriothesley loves you—but no, love is not enough. he loves you the same way the birds love the sky, reaching into the limitless void, yearning and wanting. he loves you the same way tide loves the shore, ebbing and flowing, wishing for more.

wriothesley loves you in unimaginable ways, but they are not so galactic or as grand as the stars, because the love he has is rooted here on teyvat, within reach, and most fervently, within himself.

"yeah. i've been needing to apologize to her for a while now, actually," you explain, averting your eyes from his. "'cause a while back, i accidentally dropped a whole cake on her. it was a mess. literally and metaphorically."

"what?" wriothesley blinks.

"huh?" you tilt your head.

"apologize? so those gifts are for an apology?"

"yeah," you state, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"oh."

the grin he wears is no longer forced, and when you exit his office, wriothesley buries his face into his hands, unable to contain his smile.

so i have a chance, is all he thinks.

angel's tavern is unusually quiet today.

"is kaeya single?" you suddenly ask.

the glass in diluc's hand nearly shatters, his gaze focused wholly on you as his jaw clenches.

angel's tavern is unusually tense today.

"what?"

you smile awkwardly. "is kaeya single?"

"i heard you the first time."

silence ensues.

"so is he single?"

he looks away.

"i'm not sure."

diluc wonders where it all went wrong; since when were you interested in kaeya, of all people? he doesn't know what's worse: the fact that you don't like him, or the fact that you'd like kaeya over him.

he decides to ignore the way his heart constricts a little, suffocating in between the ribs that are supposed to protect it. but even when his heart gets pierced, skewered onto his bones, he feels warm. so, so warm.

he looks at you.

"you like him?"

"he's okay," you respond nonchalantly, swirling your glass of water as if it were a decadent wine. "i don't know him all that well."

"and you still want to know if he's single?"

"we all start from somewhere."

well, you're starting from the wrong brother, is all diluc thinks.

"huh," he says unenthusiastically, "so you like unreliable men?"

"what?"

"nothing."

diluc doesn't know what to make of himself—he doesn't know where to look or what to do. should he keep polishing this wine glass, or should he confront you right now and tell you about how he's loved you for so, so long?

should he tell you about how he's willing to do anything for you, how he returned to mondstadt all those years ago with only you in mind? should he tell you about how he was ready to leave this life as a ragnvindr behind, to travel teyvat and never look back, but he was more faithful to you than he could've ever imagined? he remembered you, so fervently, that he returned. he returned and he stayed.

there's no point, diluc tells himself. i will wait. he's waited and wanted you for so long, he can withstand this newfound infatuation you have. so what if you like kaeya now? diluc latches onto a slip of hope, a minute chance that maybe, just maybe, you'll notice that it's been him all along.

he's always been here. waiting. (for you.)

you glance at him, your irises enveloping him in a tender embrace, and diluc wonders what it'd be like if you were in love. with him. he wonders how much lovelier that look would be, how warm it'd make him feel, if your pupils would dilate a little, if your expression would soften and your lips would curl into a smile when you did so much as recognize him.

would you notice him then? would you be able to discern the look in his eyes—that look of love—if you felt that way too? would you be able to tell that your existence is sown into his skin, growing and blossoming like a wildflower, persisting 'till the ends of time itself?

your existence blooms all across his being until there is nothing left of him, and everything left of you.

"what do you like about him?" diluc asks, trying to ignore the way his chest throbs. he readjusts his collar, feeling strangely stuffy.

"well, he's attractive. but i don't like him like that."

diluc steals a glance at his reflection in the wine glass. people usually tell him that he's attractive. more than kaeya, though? they haven't specified.

"beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder," he affirms.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"anyway,"—diluc feigns ignorance to your flabbergasted expression—"i wish you luck on your endeavors." he crosses his fingers.

"thanks?"

"and if anything ever happens, i will be here." as i've always been, he thinks.

"right."

"and if he does anything weird, say 'ragnvindr' three times."

"what?"

there's no trace of mirth in diluc's expression, and everything he's stated thus far has been said with a straight face. you shiver a little.

"we are also closing, by the way."

"i thought you guys were open all hours of the day—"

"nope. goodbye, dear customer." diluc pauses a little when saying "dear," for he relishes in the sound, wondering when he'll be able to drop the "customer" part and call you only that. only "dear" and nothing else—with no strings attached, except for a red knot around both of your pinkies.

he cringes at the cheesy thoughts he's having.

"uh, diluc?" you call, getting ushered out of the tavern by his glare alone. "you do realize i'm not trying to get with kaeya, right? i feel like you're misunderstanding things."

"what?" this time, it's diluc's turn to be flabbergasted.

"i'm just asking for a friend. you know donna?"

he wonders if it's possible to disappear off the face of teyvat (again).

(but even then, he'd return to mondstadt for the sake of being with you. for the sake of existing in your presence.)

(because that's just the kind of man diluc is. the kind of man he becomes at the mere thought of you.)

"oh," is all he says.

"did you think i was interested in kaeya?"

"angel's share is open all twenty-four hours of the day," diluc states, ignoring your question.

[hxmocrastic]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 | HCS

Pairing ; {📖} Percy Jackson x GN!Reader

Warnings ; Yandere , Obsessive Thoughts, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Implied Stalking, OOC, Imminent Kidnapping, Predator/Prey Dynamic. ALL CHARACTERS 18+

A/N ; Sorry I've been gone for so long y'all 😭🙏🏾 I promise I'll be more active with my fics on here, Thank you all for so much love !! Enjoy!!

- I see Percy as a somewhat manipulative but possessive kind of yandere, He has all the strength and power to make you his but he chooses to befriend you.

- He's quick witted, spiteful, and fiercely loyal he would do anything to stay by your side and to keep you by his. In his eyes you are meant for each other whether you like it or not (not).

- You're a drug, driving him to insanity this dark obsession is killing him and will soon kill you.

- What we've seen him do for annabeth will be the bare minimum of what he'd do for his obsession.

- Yes, obsession. Percy has viewed you from a objectified lens for so long that his perception of you has twisted into l something sick.

- To him you're just something to keep, something to protect, and something to love.

- So much so, he's had thoughts of what it'd be like to just take you. Take everything OF you, from you, and toss this pathetic little waiting game In the trash.

- He's sure he would keep you hidden and protected from perverted eyes sullying what belongs to him. He'd keep you clean and pure from those disgusting demigods,

- But this is Percy we're talking about, he'd never even conceive of doing this to a fellow demigod. Except for the fact he already did, to you.

- Percy always has to reassure himself that these thoughts and feelings are just that, thoughts and feelings. Thankfully these are just thoughts right? They're okay if their just thoughts right? Just dirty sick thoughts that he knows are wrong, but can't help entertaining.

- though rest assured Percy is your friend, he's protective of all his friends ! He's just loyal that's why he's always at your side when you're practicing archery.

- Why he's always caught staring openly and vacantly at you whenever you even step one foot outside your cabin.

- Why he's always somehow accompanying you on any quest you receive.

- Why his touch always seems to linger whenever he manages to maintain physical contact with you.

- Listen to your head counselor, he's just being friendly! Percy's like this with everyone, you see. infact you should be lucky that he would even look at you so fondly.

- Maybe they're right, maybe you are going crazy. Maybe he's just being sweet. Maybe he just wants to be your friend.

[euphoricimagination]

Friends don’t look that way

Feat. Kenma, Osamu & Sakusa

Kenma

Kuroo has never seen Kenma this way before.

Kenma has always been quiet, enjoying the company of his games way more than any other person; yet he was always caring about anyone else perception of him, always noticing eyes on him. However, Kenma never looks back, never looks at anyone directly that he didn’t have to look at.

So when Kuroo saw his friend on the lunch table, looking in front of him every few minutes with an unusual look, he was confused.

Kenma usually spends his lunchtime playing, if it wasn’t for Kuroo he would even forget to eat, so it’s no wonder than the captain wants to know what is grabbing the attention of his best friend.

He followed Kenma’s gaze once he lift his eyes up, finding you laughing with your friends. He has seen you before, you were in the same class as Kenma and sat behind him. You also seemed to enjoy volleyball and gaming as much as his friend, as he has seen you in their volleyball matches wearing a well love Legend of Zelda hoodie. He looks at you again, you were hearing whatever your friend was telling you with a smile on your face, before he looks back at Kenma, his eyes shining in a very particular way

“Do you know her?” Kuroo asks his friend, making him come out of his small trance

“Yn? Yeah, she’s my classmate” he answers back again with his nonchalant expression

“I meant it as actually knowing her, talking to her” he insist, seeing a faint blush on his friend face

“Yeah, she’s nice”

“She has to be more than nice for you to be so unsubtle with your heart eyes for her”

“I’m not…looking at her like that” he mumbles with a mixture of annoyance and shyness, as he hides his face in the scarf around his neck. Kuroo smirks at his friend response, not believing anything that comes out of his mouth, especially when Kenma lifts his eyes towards you again only to find out that you were looking at him too. Kuroo laughs out loud now as the both of you blush, putting a hand on Kenma’s shoulder

“Well, I don’t think you’re the only one with heart eyes” he says encouraging only to receive a glare from Kenma, a useless glare considering how red he is. His friend is definitely in love.

Osamu

Osamu is not concentrating as he should be in this practice match. He knows it, Atsumu has pointed out, Kita also remind him that they were playing several times, and now even the coach is pointing it out, scolding him for not taking this practice match seriously.

But it’s not his fault, Osamu thinks to himself, how it’s he supposed to concentrate when you are in the bleachers watching the match alongside your friends? How is he supposed to not look at you when you look so cute being all excited every time they score a point?

However, he doesn’t really understand why he is so unable to focus. Normally when you want to impress someone you would try your hardest to be better than normal, trying to stand out for them to notice. So how come his brain decided to do the exact opposite? Not only he was failing his serves miserably, but also he has unable to stop looking at you, resulting in him pathetically failing at receiving some of the easiest serves.

“Oi” Atsumu calls him once the coach finished talking “What the hell is wrong with ya?! Ya suck!”

“Eh?” Osamu looks at him back “I don’t suck, maybe yer’re the problem, dontcha think?”

“Me?! Ya know damn well I ain’t the problem here!” Atsumu throws him a ball, however he can catch it quite easily “What are ya even looking at?!”

“I think I know” says Suna smirking, looking in your direction and making him look at you too. Atsumu also follows his brother gaze, noticing how Osamu’s eyes change slightly when you lock eyes with him “What is it Samu? You like- Oi, listen to me”

Osamu is listening to everything, however he can’t seem to process any words coming out of his friends mouth, only focusing on you…until he received a slap on the back of his head

“Oi, stop eyeing them like they’re a piece of snack, ya fucking weirdass, she ain’t food” Atsumu says this time. Weird? Was he being weird? Osamu doesn’t know if you find it weird or not, but he does know that he doesn’t like Atsumu calling him out like that

“The fuck? I don’t do that, I don’t know what yer’re talking about” he says defensively, a useless attempt, really

“Ya liar! Ya haven’t stop looking at her this whole time!” Atsumu says again “No wonder ya have no fans, yer’re a weirdo”

“I’m not! Shut ya trap, ya asshat!” he says, feeling a slight hotness in his face

“Whatever, I will not allow ya to be useless right now” Atsumu says simply, walking towards the fence where you were standing “Oi! Yn-chan! Will ya go out with Osamu later?!”

He screams at you, making you blush and look back at Osamu, who also has a red face. Despite being embarrassed, you nod your head, receiving a bunch lf teasing remarks from your friends as Atsumu comes back to the team

“What was that for?!” Osamu screams at his brother

“There, got ya a date with her. Now, if ya keep playing bad I’ll ask the coach to replace ya” Atsumu answers, clearly too focus on the match to notice that he help his brother to have a date with the girl he likes

Osamu scoff slightly annoyed, however, it fully sinks in once he saw your happy, blushed face while Suna pats his back. He has a date with you, and he was excited for that, but now he has a practice match to focus on

Sakusa

“So like…Do you like her or something?” he hears Komori say besides him, making him turn his head towards him, a confused expression on his face. Who was Komori talking about?

“Why would you think that? How could you think that?” Sakusa asks. He seriously doesn’t get from where his cousin gain that idea, it’s not like he was doing anything in particular

“Because you keep staring at her like you’re in love or something” Komori says, pointing with his head to where you were, sitting on the other side of the classroom. Oh

Oh.

Everything suddenly just… clicked into Sakusa’s head, he was looking at you this whole time, your presence so relaxing that he didn’t even notice that he was staring at you. But then again, you always have manage to change his behaviors a little.

He recalls meeting you for a group project in where the teachers assigned the groups, and since you two where the only ones doing the job, he ended up finding you pleasant to be with. You two started to do homework together, which turn into you befriending Komori too, which somehow turn into you sometimes joining them for lunch or going to cheer them on their practice.

Soon enough your presence went from pleasant to likeable, which lead into him going to you from time to time. He didn’t understood a part of the lesson? He demanded you explain it to him. He received way too many gifts by his annoying fans? You’re the only person he even offers some of them before throwing them away. He was annoyed or anxious by the loud room? He always tries to find you there to feel at ease, because you always seem to find a way to calm him down. Like now, that you felt his eyes on you, which made you smile warmly to him, making all his worries disappear.

Komori was right. He’s in love with you.

He doesn’t even answer his cousin before standing up and going to your sit, with you receiving him with a playful yet worried smile.

“My practice ends at 6.00 pm today, wait for me” He says, it wasn’t an order but also wasn’t a question

“Yeah, I’ve nothing to do, thanks for asking” you say sarcastically, making him roll his eyes “Sure, I’ll wait. What for?”

“You’ll know later” he says before going back to his -smirking- cousin. It took him long enough to realize his feelings for you, he wasn’t going to take any longer to confess.

[malum-forev]

jealousy, jealousy

Summary: You're usually someone who preaches love but there's something about a new recruit that makes your blood boil.

Jealousy isn’t part of your vocabulary, it never has. So when you started dating Bucky you assumed it wouldn’t be a problem. Of course you noticed the widened eyes and hushed words people- men and women alike, Buck’s got game left and right- whenever the two of you would walk into restaurants. When you started pointing it out to him, he would always say: “It’s not cause they like my looks sweets, they’re afraid of me.”

Maybe at first that was the case but definitely not now, the public’s perception of Bucky turned positive. From terrifying Winter Soldier close all your doors to I’ll set my house on fire just to get a look at Daddy Sarge.

And there wasn’t anyone who loved teasing him about it more than you. Some nights, whenever he’s been especially annoying you would search his tag on twitter and read what people post about him. His cheeks would burst red and he would bring the comforter up to his face.

“Could you please stop with that!” He groaned but a smile tugged at his lips. “You know it gives me a weird feeling!”

“I would love to see the Eiffel Tower, they say Paris is beautiful this time of year. @BuckyBarnes @SamWilson.” You giggled as you brought your phone closer to your boyfriend.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Do I even want to know what that means?”

“It’s-well- kind of when you-“ You pursed your lips and made a triangle shape with your hands. Maybe a visual aid would help?

Bucky grabbed both of your hands and brought them to his lips. “Can you please put me out of my misery?”

But today was very different, it had been for a few weeks now. There was something about the new brunette agent that rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was that she was currently rubbing Bucky’s bicep. 

Jealousy does not exist in my world. My happiness comes from within me. There is no jealousy in true love. 

You repeated this over and over in your head, raising the speed on the treadmill and focusing on the windows in front of you. You were not going to focus on the fact that there was a hot pink nail polish wearing agent openly flirting with your boyfriend. Definitely not focusing on that. 

Your heartbeat started to rush as you kept on running, seeing red. No mantra was enough, you wanted problems. You were going to go up to her and pin her down on the floor until she was patting on the mat, taking her last brea-

“You okay?” Natasha asked, placing her hand on your lower back to stabilize your body as she lowered the speed on the treadmill. “It looks like you’re trying to challenge the speed of light over here.”

You took a deep breath to calm your anger and looked at the redhead with a smile. “I’m trying to get rid of all my- you can call it extra energy.”

Natasha threw her head back with a laugh. “Bucky training the new recruits?”

“This hasn’t happened before, I’m usually very chill about everything. But there’s something about this one.” You said, forcing your eyes onto Natasha’s instead of behind you. Where they were now about to start sparring. 

Natasha’s eyes traveled from yours to behind you. “If that’s the problem then I strongly suggest you don’t look now.”

You turned your head just enough to see the young recruit asking for your boyfriends hand to stand up, putting her other hand on his shoulder as she came up. You heard her giggle as she draped her arm over his shoulder and started complimenting his new shorter haircut. But the thing that threw you over the edge was how she placed her palm against the back of his neck. 

“Excuse me.” You said to Natasha, ripping open the pocket on the left side of her tactical suit and taking out one of the small knives you knew she hid. “I just need to borrow this for a second.”

Before Natasha could even get a word out you planted both of your feet on the gym floor and sent the knife flying in between Bucky and the new agent’s face and landed on the wall behind them. Bucky leaned back a little as he felt the air rushing when the knife passed him, turning to face you with a stupid smug smile. The recruit on the other hand, fell to the floor and clutched her chest. 

Nat tried and failed to swallow her laugh.

You brushed past Bucky and the agent, who was still on the floor. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You should really work on your aim. Someone could have gotten hurt.” She shot you an annoyed look as you un-stabbed the wall. 

You turned on your heel and debated your answer. 

Actions speak louder than words. You thought. 

Without breaking eye contact with the woman, you sent the knife flying right to the spot next to her head. With no effort the blade stuck to the foam flooring. 

“I have perfect aim.” You smiled walking past Bucky who was biting the inside of his cheek to suppress his smile.

“Are we still on for dinner Sweets?” Bucky asked, the sides of his lips curving upwards. 

“7:30, don’t be late.” You said without turning to him. 

---------

Part 2: jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Wanna read more like this? Here’s my latest post. 💖

Author's Note: Kinda short but I hope you guys liked it! As always my requests are always open!! Be sure to comment, like and reblog if you like!!💖💖🦾

[whiskeyskin]

Make Me Feel

Premise: What's that? The well trodden trope of weird potion creates problems of the - ahem - 🍆 variety? Well if you insist.

• Astarion x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M rating

They/them pronouns, Potion mishap!, interrupted masturbation, handjob, bj/deep throat, embarrassment, tone shift, mild canon trauma discussion, connection, enthusiastic consent, communication, dirty talk.

4.1k words

Edit: RAHHH! You're all so wonderful for getting me over 200 notes 😚 it may be a small number for some but to me it's a lot. Love you! 🥹🖤

Editedit: Over 400 notes?! Excuse me as I ugly cry 😭😭😚✨

Thank @northernolddragon for the beautiful screenshot 💜🥵

•°•°•

Tav was on watch with Shadowheart this evening, not that they really needed to with Gale's wards keeping an alarm on things coming in or out of camp but they all slept better with a night watch.

They'd enjoyed company and conversation as they spoke about everything and nothing. Mostly about Tav, since Shadowheart had very little memories to share.

A friendship had steadily grown with them, so much that she'd revealed herself a Sharron - which wasn't really a shock.

A low alarm pulsed and they went to investigate to the left of camp but after a little cooperation between Tav's survival skills and Heart's perception, concluded that an animal had triggered the alarm - hence the low pulse and the fresh animal tracks belonging to a rabbit.

Tav paused a moment, a thought flashing across their mind. They called to Shadowheart, "Hey, did you hear Astarion come back in from hunting?

"No, he didn't go out tonight. Said, 'he had something else to attend to'."

Again, Tav paused. Oh, shit. Had they promised he could feed tonight and completely forgotten?

"Are you supposed to be 'dining tonight'?" Shadowheart asked through a smirk.

"I don't think so.. maybe? Oh, gods. Maybe I did say." Said Tav, trying to think back on the day.

"Go check on him, see if he's waiting up for a midnight snack. I'll stay on watch." She pursed her lips and swished her long braid as she walked to do a patrol of the camp.

~~~

Tav quietly made their way passed the tents of their companions, who were softly - or loudly - snoring. Astarion's tent however still had a candle going and made no sounds of sleep, or revery but rather stranger noises. Hissing sounds from the side of his mouth and what seemed like a painful gasp.

Their brow creased with concern, Tav stepped up to the entrance of his tent. The noises intensified.

"Astarion?" Tav called through the fabric in a hushed whisper, "Are you alright?"

A choked noise of frustration replied to them first, "Uh-yes. I'm perfectly fine. Why do ask?" He retorted a little too sharply, despite his usual lulling tones.

"Shadowheart said you hadn't gone hunting and I couldn't remember if I'd agreed to let you feed tonight."

"Ah, you're such a sweetheart.. while I always delight in our little nightly visits, I've rather got my hands full with something at the moment." He strained, like he was in pain. Something wasn't right.

"Astarion. What's going on? I know something's wrong. What is it? What have you done?" Tav asked, exasperated.

"Ughh, it's nothing just-Arghh" he let out a muffled cry.

"I'm coming in." Tav announced, pushing their way inside the dimly lit interior.

"No, no, don't!" But it was too late.

Tav's mouth flew to their face, shocked at the view.

There, on the floor, in only his ruffled shirt and barely covered in his grotty blanket was Astarion. Although, the blanket was more of tent itself with what it was shielding.

"Oh! Oh, shit. Sorry-sorry! I'll leave." Tav blustered at the sight of the half naked pale elf on the floor before them. They'd clearly not been sounds of pain, and the frustration was aimed at them not leaving him to masturbate in peace.

"No, stay. Please." He croaked, desperate, "I don't know what else to do; I need your help."

"With what?" Tav questioned, averting their eyes to afford him some sort of privacy.

"I appreciate the gallantry but we can do away with the charade, you know what I was doing." He sulked, shifting his weight to sit up, the ruffles on his shirt bristling as he heaved himself upwards.

Tav's eyes tracked the movement and flitted down to the protrusion, unwavering in it's vigil against the thin protection of his grey comfort rag.

Hot flashes of memories seared their mind; remembering how it felt in their hands, hot and cool at the same time. Harder than rock as he'd moved within them, expertly stroking their sweet spot while feeding openly on their blood.

Tav bit their lip, then jolting back to the situation, looked away.

"Um, you said you needed my help. I don't know how I can-"

"I have been.. doing this to myself for the past three hours. It's incessant."

"Jeez, Astarion. I don't need to know that."

"Not for my own selfish good. I-" he growled to himself, it made Tav's stomach flip uncomfortably, "I drank something. It looked like a normal potion, but it tasted a bit off.. and now, this." He gestured to the distinct lump, "It's unbearable and painful if it's not being.. used." He paused, discomfort clear on his face.

A blush flooded Tav's cheeks, "Aaand, you want me to help by..?" They trailed, needing more explanation. Because if he was suggesting what they thought he was suggesting...

"Ugh, I don't know. This obviously isn't helping! Find something that can? Another potion, a spell? Anything!" He waved his arms helplessly into the air.

Astarion looked up at them; his shirt in disarray, his legs gently folded with the blanket tucked between them, with guilty but adamant eyes. He looked helpless and adorable.

A feeling was stirring in Tav's chest, something rumbling and loud but it wasn't arousal, it was laughter. They caught a snicker behind their hand, trying to hold in their amusement.

Astarion's face changed to surprise, with a big frown cutting across his beautiful features.

"Well, thanks a lot. Glad the bleeding heart thinks it's funny." He pouted.

"Oh, come on Astarion. It's pretty funny."

Astarion's eyes narrowed, "How precisely is this funny?" He demanded.

"It's so unfunny that it's funny again. It has to be laughed at how ridiculous this is. I mean, come on." They tried to explain, "you drank a strange elixir and now you have an erection that won't fuck off." Tav barely made it through the last word without sniggering, "You've been beating yourself stupid and it's not going anywhere. It's a fucking ridiculous situation to be in and if you can't laugh about it? Fuck." They shrugged, smiling brightly and encouraging him to see the funny side of this ridiculousness, "I thought you said Lae'zel was the one with no sense of humour."

"Actually, Lae'zel is hilarious. She just doesn't realise she's being hilarious," The frown on his face softened, a smile clearly fighting to spread across his face, "I suppose it is absurd. Most men would kill for this."

"Most people would pay good money for this problem!" Tav squeaked, "Oh gods, the old men that have given all their gold for this problem!" They whined out before coming down to kneel on the floor.

"All of them furiously masturbating to get rid of it after their mistress has left and their wife will notice." He chuckled.

"Oh, the scandal." Tav flourished.

"What would the neighbours say?" He jested, opening up to the idea that the incredulity of it all needed to be laughed at.

He mimed trying to push it down only for it to spring back up with a pop sound effect provided by him and they fell about cackling together.

It was nice. Seeing him smile.

~~~

They sat laughing for a while, trying to come up with unfortunate scenarios to find yourself in with this predicament. Each as hilarious at the next.

Howls turned giggles, and giggles turned to titters, until eventually they were all laughed out.

There was a comfortable silence between them for several moments. Tav glanced back at him.

"Did that help? Taking your mind off it?" Tav asked, hopeful.

"I'm afraid not. Still there. Although, it's taken away the urgency of needing that release."

"That's a start at least. What the hell's did you drink?"

"I don't know, it was in the pack from today's adventure with the hag."

"You drank one of the hag's potions?" Tav chided, incredulous.

"Of course not! What do you take me for?"

Tav raised their brows and wordlessly gestured to his lap.

"Point taken," he relented, "but, no it was a regular looking potion bottle. I needed a little healing, so I.." he trailed off, loosely waving a hand.

"You drank a random potion from today, before we'd had a chance to examine it and expected nothing to go wrong. You brought this on yourself." Tav pursed their lips mockingly.

"Yes, thank you for stating the obvious, dear. What am I going to do?" He asked, exasperated.

"Well, masturbating yourself sore hasn't worked, so it can't be about orgasming it out of you."

"Oh, I haven't orgasmed. That's what I was trying to tell you before, but in my feverish haze didn't get out into words properly."

"After three hours?" Tav asked, wide eyed.

"It was more stop/start than powering through. I'm drawing the assumption that while this potion grants me this bloody thing, it doesn't heighten the sensation much."

"Maybe it deadens it? To keep it going longer? That's why you couldn't.. yuh know." Tav mimed the action for affect. They shared a small titter through their noses.

"I haven't a clue. Although, I'm not really.. versed in this sort of thing. It's not something I do, not something I've done for centuries," he admitted, shrugging, "Self pleasure wasn't high on the list when the thought of touching anyone, let alone yourself made your skin crawl-" Astarion caught himself, his eyes widening.

Tav's mouth gaped, "What?" The question came out breathy and low. Hurt struck painfully into their heart, "So the night we spent together you were disgusted-"

"-No. No. Well, at first it I was a little but-"

Tav's eyed widened and they recoiled, wounded. He knew he'd revealed too much and Tav could see that flawless mask of his was trying to slot back into place after it's momentary lapse.

"Don't." Tav urged, "Don't pretend you didn't say it."

"It wasn't like that-I didn't mean you, you're wonderful. I meant in Baldur's Gate with Cazador. The manipulation, the decite. I couldn't. I never." He stopped himself.

Tav softened, the harm still stinging but this was important. Astarion had never spoken about his time with Cazador apart from being a slave and using sex to lure people back. He hadn't elaborated more than those facts. Obviously he would have sexual trauma. And he'd opened up a chance at the conversation.

"It's alright. I'm here to listen. Go on." Their tone was low and understanding.

His face full of uncertainty and shame, Astarion shook his head and refused to look at them.

"I don't want to. Not yet. Not now. I mean.. I just want this thing gone." He motioned to his still swollen member.

Tav's brow knitted and they shrugged heavily.

"Apart from distracting you from it, I don't know what I can do." Tav raised their hands in exasperation, "I mean if you can't do it after three hours, what am I supposed to do-"

"Trust me, you'd be able to help." He said darkly, almost to himself. His gaze darted back, scared by another accidental confession. Tav's confused expression must have been clearly legible.

"What do you mean?"

Astarion averted his eyes, clearly debating on letting more of his secrets out.

"Shit." He cursed. There was a pregnant pause that Tav refused to break.

"You-" he stopped himself, "the other night at the party was- it was-" he shut his eyes and sighed through his nose, "I can't do this, you can leave. I'll just keep this forever."

"Astarion.." Tav said softly, gently reached a reassuring hand to the floor beside him.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and swallowed.

"It was the first time I've known actual pleasure in almost 200 years. Where I actually enjoyed myself, much to my surprise."

Suddenly feeling relieved and very flattered, Tav remained stone-faced silent, encouraging him to keep going.

"My existence has been about having my body used to lure back pretty things for him. To get them to trust me and let their guard down, then.." he trailed off, "I tried to make the most of it and relish in the copious amounts of sex I was having.. It didn't last long. I got extremely good at pretending I did, they never suspected a thing." He said with a sneer.

"I became numb to the entire experience. It was nothing to me. A dance. A deception. It became second nature and I got used to the disgust I felt, I used it to push through. To hold onto some semblance that I had one shred of humanity left. As long as I despised myself for what I was doing, there was still hope."

"So imagine my shock when I actually felt something different with you. Something good." He finally looked in their eyes, "You are a bastion of firsts in this newfound freedom of mine. My first true blood, the first person who has let me indulge in my instincts and helped me grow in my power," Astarion swallowed, "the first person in so long to make feel something.. anything.. during sex that wasn't hatred and self-loathing."

Tav's throat closed and tears threatened to brim but they blinked them back.

"You offered your neck to me, your life blood to me and I felt something.. it wasn't like our usual feeds.. it was something immense.. something transcendant and I.. I lost myself in you.. wholly. Pleasure had returned to my body and I froze. I didn't know what to do."

"Nothing else existed outside us.. and I could have spent the rest of my life buried inside you," he paused, closing his eyes as if the memory over-powered him. Tav sat there, breathless, mesmerised by his beauty in the candle's soft glow.

"I think I came back to consciousness when I saw my seed over your beautiful body. You looked just as shocked as I felt. It was all over your chest, your mouth.." he was breathing heavily now and the air around them shifted. Tav swallowed dryly. They remembered.

The grunting, ecstatic moan he'd made when he came over them echoed in their mind long after. They'd pulled back from lavishing his thick, pale cock to pause for breath and to whisper sweet words to him. He'd erupted on them with no more than a silent gasp and a hand fisted in their hair.

Staring deeply into Tav's eyes, Astarion continued, "You took me so well," he brought a hand to their bottom lip, grazing it lightly with his fingertips, "With your mouth.. with all of your holes, actually. Your wonderfully tight holes." He moaned through a sly smile.

Tav's mouth was aridly dry, as all the blood in their body waved and pooled to their core. Heat radiated through them and quickly made breathing steadily a problem, and logical thinking was non-existent.

"I know you could do it again, if you wanted to." he closed his eyes and snaked himself closer against Tav's neck, inhaling deeply. His breath cool raising gooseflesh, as he pressed his lips against the shell of their ear, "You could wrap those soft lips around my cock and suck me like you did in the forest. So deep and so warm."

Tav's thoughts were like wading through thick, soupy mud as Astarion's words clouded their mind and flooded their body with desire.

"I've never been devoured quite like that, you fit yourself around me so well.. you were such a good f-"

Tav quickly brought their hand to his mouth. He had to be silenced. His seductive power was too much to leave unbridled.

Mentally shaking off his charms, Tav came some what back to their senses.

"In one breath you tell me how disgusted you are with sex and the next you say about wanting my 'tight holes'? What is it that you want, Astarion? You can't have it both ways."

"Of course I can, darling. Now I can. Things have changed. Lots of things. I have my body back and I decide what to do with it. And right now.." he moved with the lithe limbs of a panther to sidle himself beside them, the grey blanket gently pulling back to reveal his thick, swollen manhood. He exhaled at the softness leaving him, "I want.."

Tav swallowed hard, their lips parted. Another wave of euphoric desire swept over them as the cool touch of his skin ghosted against theirs.

Astarion reached over and grasped their hand and placed it on his engorged cock.

"This." He hissed as their skin finally touched, his cool hardness welcome in their palm.

Gods, he was so erect. The veins in his thick shaft pulsating. The velvet softness of him thrummed with desperate need.

He was so close to them, so close now.. they could kiss if he wanted them to. Astarion breathed against Tav's mouth, "Touch me."

He started to move both their hands in short bursts over the head of his penis, Astarion shuddered out a gasp and screwed his eyes shut, "Touch me. Please."

Tav willingly acquiesced, bending down to spit on his painfully erect cock and began to work.

He made a staggered, breathless moan as he leaned back on both hands, exposing himself to them. Tav pumped his rock hard length in a steady rhythm, remembering back to the Tiefling party that he had appreciated the gentle building of friction, to fruition.

His head was purple and looked sore from his abusing himself for so long in search of relief. Tav generated salvia in their mouth and spat on their other hand to use on him.

The sweetest moan they'd ever heard sang from Astarion's chest.

"Yes-yes-use your hands on me.. make me feel like before.. make me feel-" he gasped through the last word so ferociously he inadvertently bared his fangs.

Tav used their hands in symbiotic motion; pumping the bottom of his shaft with their non-dominant, while teasing and playing with the head between their deft fingers, all the while keeping his entirety slick in saliva.

Gods, they wanted to use their mouth on him properly. He looked so beautiful, unmasked before them. He had been so unexpectedly naked and raw with his past. Revealing hard and difficult truths regarding his lack of control, and autonomy of his own body.

And Tav had to respect that, no matter how aroused they were. They would show that his trust was placed rightly in them.

"Astarion?" They called softly to him.

He answered back with a broken, "Mhm?"

"Thank you for telling me what you did. I won't tell anyone else, you have my word."

"Mm-mm-thankyou, Tav." He managed, his voice tense.

Tav slowed their pace and Astarion let out a whine, balling up his fists in frustration.

"Don't pretend with me. Don't force it."

"I'm not, I swear." He gasped, looking directly at them, a light sheen of sweat appearing on his upper lip.

Tav smirked, "Promise you won't."

"Yes-yes, I promise. Please speed up again." He pleaded through gritted teeth, thumping his head back on the pillow.

"I will. But I'd like to use my mouth on you aswell, would that be okay?"

He let out a pent up huff of air, "Oh gods yes, yes, yes-please use that gorgeous mouth on me. Swallow me. Take me."

Tav smiled and quickly got into position, propped between his legs, "I'd also like to play with your testicles, if that's agreeable."

Astarion wrenched his red hot eyes open, making contact with theirs again. Tav irked a suggestive brow.

A devilish grin crossed his face, once again his fangs shone in the dim candle light, "Oh, my dear. That would be most agreeable." He purred through steadier breaths now they had paused.

"One request from me though; don't push my head down, I don't like it. I'll respect your wishes and you respect mine. Deal?"

"Deal." He smiled and reached down to collect his shirt up to reveal his pale, chiseled body. Tav looked hungrily at his toned flesh, desperate to snake it with their tongue.

They took a breath to ask but Astarion interrupted, "Yes, gods please yes! Lick it, kiss it, bite it, suck me. Do what you want with me.. I'll tell you to stop if it's too much."

"I'll hold you to that." They crooned with a serious edge, as they spat on their hand again, then manoeuvred themselves to be able to kiss his beautiful body, and pump the head simultaneously.

He twitched at the increase in contact and laughed hungrily through strained teeth, "Uhhgh, fuck yes."

Tav languished their lips and tongue across the defined muscles, gently sucking and nibbling occasionally for added sensation. They kissed and dragged their tongue up and down the V in his hips, paying equal and excruciating mind to each side, making Astarion moan and buck.

Tav firmly pressed kisses on the creases of his pelvis, breathing hot over the area. They took their time, languishing over his form with their mouth and exploring the contours of his hips and thighs with their spare hand. Astarion groaned in vexation.

"Ooh, don't tease me. Please."

"The potion is making you impatient. You enjoyed this last time." Tav reminded him.

"It's not the bloody potion-Gods above-AUGH-I'm asking nicely. Don't keep me waiting any longer, I've already been edged enough. Show me-make me feel-let me feel-"

Astarion gasped as Tav collected the precum that bloomed at his tip, and licked their fingers clean, before deftly angling themselves to engulf his thick cock as much as they could.

The noises that were illicited from the pale elf were unlike any they'd ever heard before - strained and trembling, through gritted teeth and grounded fists - and the sloppy, wet sounds that their mouth made around his unyielding cock were intentionally and debaucherously pornographic.

Momentarily retreating, they began flicking their tongue over the slit, Tav moaned from the back of their throat like he was a tall mug of water quenching debilitating thirst. One hand holding his length steady, the other lightly grazing his testes.

Astarion's thighs fluttered and tensed, as Tav heard a smile through his own moan, "Ooh, that's new."

"Mhm."

Gathering more sleek, Tav ran the flat of their tongue up the smooth underplane of Astarion's cock from base to tip, and encircled the head. His member twitched unconsciously as he let out a warm, low rumble from his chest.

"Is that alright? Not too much?" Tav asked, checking in. They kissed the crease of his frenulum, while nimbly massaging and squeezing his sac.

"Mm-mhm-yes. I'm gaining quite an appetite for your skills in this area." He cooed, shifting underneath them, "but I remember a rather more deeper approach last time."

Tav grinned at his less than subtle request, "Oh, my darling. We're just warming up.. but if you're ready for more. I will, of course.. oblige."

Unhinging their jaw like a snake preparing to consume their pray, Tav gorged on the willing partner in front of them.

Astarion sucked in a gasp and Tav felt a hand on the back of their head briefly, before being removed hastily. Tav heard his fist pound into the bedroll beside him. They moaned in thanks, vibrating against his solid shaft.

He replied with a deep rumble from his chest, "Yes.. that's what I've been missing. This is what I needed.."

Bobbing and dipping, taking just a little more in their mouth each time. Sucking and stroking his perfect length. Their mouth salivated and filled with lubricant, anticipating the meal in front of them. Finally meeting their lips on their pumping fist, working together harmoniously.

Tav relaxed their throat further and began swallowing the last length of him, suppressing the need to gag until it would afford the most pleasure. They flattened their tongue and swallowed, sucked and gagged as Astarion whimpered and moaned, unconsciously jerking. Tav placed a hand on his hips to steady him, to not ruin the mood by choking unexpectedly.

They pressed down just above his pubic bone as their lips bottomed out against him, tears forming wet stains under their eyes at the challenge of taking his full size. Tav gulped and gasped against his cock, enveloping him with their tongue and throat working in tandem, coating him in liquid slick. The debased, vile sounds coming from their meeting wet and loud and hot as the hells; pushing him higher, dragging him under, coercing him to cum.

He gasped and raised his head to look down at them. Tav met his tear-streaked, claret gaze, with their own.

"Ohh-yes-yes-look at me as you devour my cock-take it all the way down your throat-such a good-nasty-AHH-YES!" He gargled the last word through moans and his hips pulsated and thrust wantonly as he bunched his shirt in his hand, the other fisted around his greyed rag blanket.

His brows creased, his face wracked with pleasure and pain. His face contorted and twisted as he writhed and moaned. He panted and heaved and shook his head from side to side.

Concern furrowed their brow at his expressions, while he seemed to be "enjoying himself", they were reminded of his words from their conversation, that his sexual conquests couldn't tell that he was pretending.

Tav pulled back to breathe through their nose. They reached out with the tadpole and gently stroked his mind, seeking reassurance that this was what he wanted. That he wasn't pretending. That this was real. That this was what he wanted.

"Yesyesyesyes-oh gods-please don't stop-choke on my cock till you can't breathe-ARH-going to cum down your throat and taste myself on your tongue-fuck!-fuck my hard cock deep in your throat-do it-do it-doit-doit-doit" he repeated, trailing off in whimpers against his soiled comfort blanket.

That enthusiastic consent was all they required.

This was a challenge that they would unabashedly attempt to conquer. They had no idea if they could; he hadn't fed on them this time and the potion was an unknown quantity for help, or hindrance. They had no idea. But damned if they weren't going to try. Tav steeled themself and took a deep breath.

They made no illusions at a slow build in tension, they went straight for the kill.

Straining down his hard length to the hilt, making the most illicit and disgusting sodden noises as they consumed him, squeezing him with the throat that tried to resist his intrusion.

Astarion growled and whined and shook with the tension in his body coiled so tightly.

Tav stretched their jaw to lap their tongue against his balls, which tightened due to the expected feeling. He rewarded their efforts with another mumbled, half coherent onslaught of praise and explicit desires.

They re-applyed the pressure on his pubus, pushing down firmly against his taut skin.

A breathless gasp shot from his throat as the hand bunched in his shirt now flew to grasp their hand with choruses of, "yes-yes-yes!"

He was so close, they could feel it. His precum tainted the back of their throat. His jaw was tight and his glistening fangs were bared.

Tav remembered back once more to what had unexpectedly tipped him over the edge when they'd made him cum the last time.

Concentrating hard on keeping the fast-paced rhythm, tears streaming from their eyes, they flipped their hand to hold his properly.

Tav reached out through their connection and whispered, "I've got you, Astarion.. you're safe. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I promise.. I have you.. Cum, Astarion.. cum, my love."

Astarion stilled, his every muscle contracting and seizing, his chest rising off the floor as his spine curved.

A gentle, surprised gasp escaped from his mouth. He squeezed their hand so tightly as their name died on his lips.

Suddenly Tav felt warmth shoot against the back of their throat as he came hot and quick, filling their mouth and spilling out the sides and he thrust wildly, unable to control his movements. His cries of pleasure muted and gasping.

Tav gagged and slowed to a gentler pace, swallowing him down. Astarion twitched and quivered as they saw him through his climax; still holding each others hand.

His soft, whimpering groans dissolved into laboured heaves as he relaxed into the lull of his orgasm.

A moan shuddered from him as Tav expertly extracated his thankfully - slightly - softening member from their stretched throat.

They tenderly cleaned him up with their tongue, as there was quite a lot that had spilled from his heavy, metallic-tanged load, while Astarion lay there in stunned silence.

Tav dried their eyes and gently rested their chin on his thigh and sighed deeply, their hands still joined on his stomach.

They kissed his cool skin, "Are you alive up there?" Tav asked, jokingly.

Silence.

If he wasn't already dead, they'd have thought he'd died.

"Astarion?"

"M'alive." He mumbled in a stupor.

"Good." Tav said through a wry smile.

They looked to their left where his cock was already starting to swell again and sighed.

"I don't think it worked, you're getting hard again."

Still nothing.

Tav furrowed their brow, "Do you hear me up there?"

Still nothing.

Starting to worry, Tav raised themselves up and started padding their way one-handed up towards his face. His crimson eyes were fixed on ceiling of the tent, drying tears still streaked down his temples.

"Are you alright? Was it too much?" Tav asked, worried they'd gone too far.

He finally blinked.

"My body feels like it's.. weightless and.. empty. My head feels like.. I've been zapped with a.. shocking grasp.. and my ears are ringing." His tone was high and dazed. His every move tinged with exhaustion. His expression one of pure contentment.

He was fully in an afterglow bubble. That was better than potentially traumatised.

Tav pursed their lips with pride, "Sounds like a good orgasm then. Was it?" They asked, feigning innocence.

Astarion gave a long blink and turned his gaze to Tav, who lay to the side of him.

"You've rendered me paralsyed. I think we can call that a success, don't you?"

Tav chuckled, "Well, a semi-success. You've still got your problem." They gestured a thumb towards his now alarming erection again.

"Oh no, that's not the potion. That's me."

Tav jerked their neck in questioning confusion, "Eh?"

"I'm laying here sprawled on the floor after one of the best orgasms of my long life. Two of whom have been granted by you.. and the only thing I can think of.. is that I need to do that again."

Tav bit their bottom lip through a grin spreading across their face.

"But we said that that night was a one-time thing and this is an extraordinary circumstance.. this isn't supposed to-"

His pale pink lips came up to capture their first kiss of the night and from the passion and force behind it, it was not to be their last.

Astarion slid his fingers to their umber trousers and cupped them through the fabric. Tav gasped against his mouth as they twitched within his grasp, the damp spot of their arousal staining their clothes. They sucked in Astarion's bottom lip into their mouth and cursed.

"Well, apparently that arrangement needs to be renegotiated." He smirked, as he kissed them deeply, sweeping his tongue to taste himself there.

He brought his hand to the buckle, "And these definitely need to come off."

•°•

[popquizhot-shot]

EVERYTHING IS FINE- Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

this is it. angsty asf. bittersweet ending it’s sad people. tw: infidelity. based on my most recent post. please comment i’m literally begging you and tell me how you like it<3

In the depths of your heart, you already know. Your Miguel is not yours anymore.

You remember the stolen glances between him and Dana where you pretended not to notice the palpable tension between the three of you amidst the throng of about ten other people in the house.

It was a nice dinner that you’d planned, after spending almost a week away because of your actual job as well as your little side gig that was being a part of spider society.

But fifteen minutes into the little shin-dig and you get a call from none other than your boss. Not the nice one who showed you the ropes when you first joined and provided you with hours of mentorship. The bitch that was a variant of your husband was currently floating above your watch as you glared at him in the bathroom.

“We need you.”

“Not today.”

“It’s an emergency.”

“It’s always an emergency.” you roll your eyes.

“Look this was unplanned, you think my life’s aim is to torment you?”

“Kind of.” you nod and he groans, “Give me twenty minutes.”

——

At the end of twenty minutes, you storm out of your house as quietly as you can, yes it’s an oxymoron but you’re pissed off.

At Miguel, at your husband, at yourself.

Your mother always said that you were one to pity yourself, even when every bad thing that happened was the result of your own actions. All your life you’ve disagreed, but now you think that maybe your mother was probably right.

None of this would have happened if you’d just said no. No to Dana making her way into your marriage to her guy best friend and co-worker.No to the variant of him with fangs and red eyes and No to your own urge of fucking things up because you wanted to see what happened. If maybe what your heart felt was wrong. That there was nothing wrong with you and Miguel, that he still loved you.

You let out a shaky breath and open a portal from an alleyway behind your apartment building. The purple hue reflects onto your face. No, you weren’t a spider. Just a traveller that stumped your boss and changed his perception of everything he knew about the multiverse.

The man himself nodded at you as you stepped onto the platform he was standing on, looking back to the holo of what looked like a rogue Doc Ock, Goblin and another Spiderman.

“What, now we have evil spidermen? Isn’t that breaking the canon?” you raise an eyebrow.

“That’s the thing. There’s no canon event broken. He was meant to be a villain. Yet, I’ve never heard of him, or of this universe.”

You look at him like he’s just told you that he used to be a stripper in college and all his money came from his side-gig, “I’m sorry, what? The all powerful Miguel O’Hara with the pixel suit doesn’t know of the existence of a universe?”

“You’re being real helpful right now.” he grumbles.

“Thank you, I knew you’d appreciate the help.”

——

The house is quiet when you walk in, evidently everyone has left. The kitchen has been cleaned and the lights are off.

He’d always been your biggest supporter. Always so humble even though he had a high position and a fat paycheck, always telling you to let him help you. Doing some of your work for you when you were busy.

The bedroom door creaked a little as you enter, the sound of your loves breathing makes you crack a small smile. His hulking figure curled up and moving up and down. His face slack.

God he was so beautiful.

You shed your clothes and go through your night routine as fast as you can. Brushing your teeth and scrubbing your face. Cursing the pimples that always make their way onto your forehead at the wrong time.

The mattress squeaks as you get on, slowly wrapping your hands around his body. He stirs and looks up at you, his eyes softening. He’d been drinking, you can tell. He hasn’t looked at you like this for a while.

“Hi.” his hands cup your face and you smile softly as you kiss his rough palm. Your own covering his.

“Sorry I disturbed you. Thank you for cleaning up.” your hands mirror his actions, thumbs caressing his cheekbones.

He answers you with a soft kiss. And then another. And his hands are travelling down to pull you to him. Engulfing you as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. Your hands move to play with his hair as he drifted back to sleep.

You close your eyes and pretend that everything is fine. That the lipstick stain on his shirt in the laundry basket wasn’t the same as Dana’s.

———

“Are you fucking dumb?” O’Hara seethes, as he disinfects the gash at the bottom of your neck.

“It’s just a graze, i’m fine.” you grumble, “it’s not like anyone’s gonna care if i die.”

“No, just shut your mouth. Stop talking like you’re some martyr. There are plenty of people here who would miss you.”

“Miguel, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.” you chuckle, “i get it-

“No, you don’t. actually, you don’t get it. the woman i loved died, and she’s gone and i’d do anything to have her back, and you’re so convinced that if you died your own fucking husband wouldn’t want to die too? Stop acting like you’re expendable.” his eyes glow and yours widen, “This may come as a surprise to you, but people care.”

You gulp, “Sorry.”

He grumbles under his breath as he sprays the wound with bacta so it heals faster. Apologising when you wince.

You look at his concentrated face that is focused on wrapping the bandage around your shoulder and the bottom of your neck. His face is mere inches from yours. He is the splitting image of your husband, save from the red eyes and fangs. But this close you can see the differences, his eyebrows are a tad thicker and his ears are smaller.

He is harder and his words are sharp. Your love is soft and quiet. Mean when he has to be, but kinder. More open.

More loving. Yes. He’s more loving and he loves you.

You look away and focus on the ceiling. You don’t see his eyes watching your face. Eyes filled with sadness and want.

——

“Dana, here. Have some tea.” you pour a cup for the woman sitting next to Miguel at the table. At your spot.

Is it toxic to think that maybe you want her to choke on her tea?

She’d started to carpool with Miguel a few months ago , seeing as they worked together and were on the same team, it was more efficient and made more sense.

You didn’t want to seem like a toxic wife so you nodded and agreed, because you were secure in your relationship with your husband.

“Thank you.” she says your name with a wide smile as she sips the tea, “Amazing, as always.”

“I know right, she makes amazing tea.” he smiles at her and raises an eyebrow. Dana snorts.

You look between the pair trying to hide their smiles, “Did I miss something?” an awkward smile makes its way onto your face.

“Inside joke, you wouldn’t get it. It’s a scientist thing. I don’t think your writer brain could handle it.” Dana waves you away as if you’re a fucking waiter and you bristle.

But what drives it home is that Miguel laughs out loud when she says that. His hair flops onto his forehead and Dana fixes it for him, her hands running through this hair.

You fight the urge to break a plate on her head but you know it’ll be fruitless. Because your husband will take her side.

Maybe you’re just being dramatic. Maybe the tears you’re trying to hide as you make breakfast are unwarranted and you can’t take a joke.

Everything is fine.

You call out to them from the kitchen, telling them you’re going to be late and his voice is brighter when he says, “Okay, honey.”

—————

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, boss.”

“You look dead.”

“Your eyes bags suggest the same.”

“You’re hilarious.” O’Hara smirks

“Thank you.” you take a sip of the beer he’d passed.

It was late, far past dinner time. And the both of you had taken time to go over the record of what anomalies were most common and key weaknesses in most villains.

“But seriously, are you okay?”

You gulp, “Tell me about your wife. Please.”

He blanches, and then looks at the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Well, where to begin?” he turns to face you, “She…was a writer, she had her own business. She loved sunflowers because they faced each other when the sun wasn’t in the sky.” he smiles sadly, “she was terrified of frogs and dead fish. And she hated onions. The pickiest fucking eater.” he shakes his head and chuckles.

“She sounds sweet.” you know she was variant of you, Miguel had shown you the web of life and in every universe there was version of you that made their way into his life. It was beautiful, honestly.

“She had short hair, and her smile. God, it could make anyone’s day better.” he rested his head on his hand and looked at the hologram shining in front of the both of you.

“She sounds like a dream.” you reply.

“She was.” he nods.

“Hey would you mind bringing up a live of my house?” you ask.

“Why?”

“Humour me, will you?”

He grumbles and a hologram showing your universe pops up, on the screen is your living room. And Miguel freezes when he sees the scene before him.

He sees himself kiss Dana. The version of him who is married, is kissing his co-worker. He’s taking her in his arms and nuzzling her nose. He’s pecking her cheeks and tickling her like she’s his wife.

Like he’s in love with her.

“I love you.” his voice echoes throughout the room. And Dana says it back.

His head whips to look at you. You don’t look surprised, rather, you look defeated. You breathe out like it’s a finality. Your beautiful beautiful eyes transfixed on offending scene in front of you.

Before anything else happens, he shuts it off. Immediately turning to look at your frozen form, “Hey, you with me?”

You shake your head and smile. Eyes still fixed onto where the hologram was, “I’m fine.” Tears fall down your cheeks as your mouth quivers, “I’m okay. Everyday he comes back around this time. And they carpool. I told him I’d be late today. Just after I made them tea and they laughed at an inside joke amongst themselves.”

His eyes widens, “Oh honey.” his moves to hug you and you let out an ugly sob, “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I knew it.” you say into his chest, “I’m so fucking stupid.”

His hand pats your back, “You’re not stupid.”

“I mean, I know i was busy, i know i wasnt always home. But I tried, i fucking tried. WHAT IS SO WRONG WITB ME?” the dam breaks and you let out a wrecked shout of agony that breaks his heart into two, “Why wasn’t I good enough?!” your body shakes violently.

“No.” he says firmly, taking your face in his hands, almost squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to looking at him, your hands fly to cover his, “ You are good enough. You are enough. Listen to me. That fucking idiot doesn’t know who he just lost.”

“But-But if i wasnt so busy-

“If he had a problem, he should’ve told you. He’s a fucking pussy.”

Your words are silenced when he shakes you once, hands still holding your cheeks, “You are the most perfect person. And the both of them will pay. I promise that, cariño.”

His arms wrap around you to engulf you as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, rapid breaths slowing. His pulse beats and you can feel the vibrations on your own skin.

You close your eyes and pretend everything is fine. Because you’re in his arms.

[the-californicationist]

He Paints a Picture (Price/Reader)

WARNING: PERIOD BLOOD KINK

You have been warned!

“Wait,” Price narrowed his eyes at you, “why not? Is everything alright?”

You hated to break the news to him. Ever since you’d had to be off your birth control, your periods had returned with a vengeance. You’d always had rough monthlies, but it almost seemed like your body was getting its revenge. The elevator scene from The Shining came to mind as you considered confessing why you’d been dodging Price’s advances. 

Your ex had been so disgusted with you when it was “that week,” that you’d been conditioned to think you had to hide it. Unfortunately for you, that week was also when you were the most sensitive, craving a delicious pounding to relieve the cramps and satisfy your sexual cravings. 

You didn’t think John would be so cruel, but even just imagining a negative reaction from him truly upset you, so you’d evaded his attempts to fondle you for three whole days. He’d dip a finger into the side of your panties, and you’d scoot away, playing dumb. You’d given him so many blowjobs this week that he started to get suspicious. Now, he was asking you flat out why you were denying him his favorite midnight snack: your pussy. 

“We just…can’t,” you shrugged, hoping he would drop it. 

Fat chance. His brow furrowed, growing concerned,

“Love, did I do something wrong? I thought you were enjoying the back rub. Did I hurt you?”

He was so large that, when he pouted, it looked like you were comforting an disgruntled wildebeest in your bedroom. His big, sad eyes and his frowning, bearded face broke your damn heart. You bit the bullet, realizing you couldn’t go one more minute with him thinking this was somehow his fault,

“It’s that week.”

“What week, love? Did I miss an anniversary? I know I’ve been away last week. Maybe I accidentally had the wrong calendar…” he was frantically flipping through his smart watch, confused and distressed. 

“John,” you grabbed his forearm, shaking your head, “my time of the month, you know?”

You could see the realization wash over him, softening his features before returning immediately to confusion,

“And?”

“What do you mean by that?” You didn’t understand what he was asking. 

“So, the painters are in. What about it?” He looked so lost. You decided to be very upfront, the clarity burning in your throat,

“You don’t care that I’m bleeding?”

Still, no reaction. He shrugged, shaking his head,

“Why would I? I mean, if you don’t feel up to it, I’m happy to fetch the hot water bottle and neapolitan out of the fridge,” he grabbed you around your shoulders, “but a bit of blood isn’t going to scare me off, love. In fact, I bet you’re wet and ready for me right now. Hot.”

He kissed your neck, sucking into your skin, licking your throat, and pulling at the flimsy straps of your tank top. He exposed your breasts, and with how high your hormones were, they felt swollen and hypersensitive. As he rubbed them, kissing your nipples and laving his tongue over them, you moaned from the strong tingles he created in your nerves. 

“Are you sure?” You panted, still nervous about his perception. 

“Mm,” he tugged a nipple into his mouth before looking up at you, darkness shrouding his gaze, “very sure. Lay down. I’ll grab a towel.”

He yanked your top off, throwing your clothes on the floor and dipped into the bathroom to grab a towel. He came back with a big beach towel that he’d had for years. Big palm trees swayed against a perfect blue background. You hoped you wouldn’t ruin it. 

Price signaled for you to raise your hips, and he put the cloth underneath you, protecting the bed. Roughly, he stripped you of your bottoms, making you naked when he was still fully clothed. Then, to your horror, he assumed his usual position with his head between his legs, licking his chops like a hungry wolf. 

“John!”

Mid-lick, he looked up at you, frozen in place,

“What?”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything. Keeping his eyes on you, he continued toward his destination, licking and sucking on your folds, ignoring your worried throat noises. 

“You can’t! It’s…it’s gross, right?”

He mumbled, his mouth full of pussy between phrases,

“No, sweet girl, mmph, ‘s good. Gets my blood up. Cock’s gonna be achin’ in a moment.”

You tried to relax, even getting close to coming since you were so sensitive, but as he licked you, your shame became too much. You thought he was just appeasing you,

“John, please. You don’t have to pretend…”

He was on you in a flash. His hand slipped around your neck, crushing your jawbone, forcing you to look at him in the face, snarling at you like a hound,

“Are you really trying to keep this pussy from me? I don’t care if you bleed every day for the rest of your goddamn life. This is my cunt, and I’m starving for it. You know your safe word. Use it!” 

His sudden aggression stunned you. Price waited, patiently, knowing you needed time to think. He was already covered in red smears, his mouth and beard caked in your blood and sparkling with your slick.  

You looked up at him, eyes worried and full of past pains,

“Are you sure?” 

The captain smiled maliciously, 

“Does this feel sure to you?”

Your heart almost stopped when you felt him slap his cock on your thigh, letting you feel the heaviness of his impossibly hard erection. Your face must have worn your shock all over it because he chuckled darkly, obviously feeling vindicated. 

“That’s what I thought, love. Now, can I get back to my mission, or do you need to stop?”

You stared at him for a while, searching for any deception. Finding none, you shook your head, giving him free reign to proceed as he saw fit. 

Price was such a grizzly when he needed to be, roaring to stand his ground, but you knew that, with just one word from you, he’d release you, forfeiting his claim at your whim. You couldn’t believe that he wasn’t repulsed. If anything, he was turned on. 

He ate you like a man possessed, sucking at you and covering his cheeks and lips and nose in red, sticky blood, not giving a shit about the mess. Your thighs were covered. You could feel every bit of effort he put into making you come, and he seemed to be celebrating each and every moment you moaned or jolted your hips up towards his waiting mouth. 

Then, he reached his hand up toward your hole, sinking two of his fingers into you as deep as they would go, massaging your walls in slow circles as he pushed inside. You groaned in a deep, guttural voice, feeling like your whole body was quivering for his touch. Watching as he pulled his hand out to thrust into you again, you saw the dark burgundy fluid that had fallen from your womb. 

Price paid it no mind. He was too busy humping his cock into his other hand to care, readying himself for your shared pleasure. He began fucking you on his hand in earnest, his knuckles hitting that space between, sending shocks of pleasure through your body, the wet, milking sounds echoing in the room with both of your ragged moans. 

“Oh, fuck, love,” he grunted, “you’re damn well flooded.”

He licked his lips, smearing your blood with his tongue. Then, he bent to suck your clit again, groaning as he did, making it vibrate with his low voice. Even when he made you come from his lurid efforts, he didn’t let up. If anything, it made him wilder to see your redness staining his hand. 

Finally, he pulled away from you, and he used his dripping hand to stain his cockhead, lubing himself up for his entry. There was little resistance to him as he pushed forward into you. That was very abnormal for your coupling. He was heavy and thick, and it usually took quite a bit of grinding to reach your warm middle. Not tonight. 

Tonight, his head sank all the way to your womb, pressing against the soft, sensitive flesh like a wet kiss, and he was beside himself,

“Fuuuuuckin’ hell…” he growled, “That’s good. So. Damn. Wet.”

Each word was a struggle, punctuated by his rough thrusts. As he fucked you, you felt your blood and come coating the skin between you, making a mess of your thighs and ass cheeks, dripping down onto the towel and onto his balls and legs. His face was still covered in blood, as were his hands. He was rubbing his hand on his chest, enjoying the slippery feeling over his nipple, taking turns rubbing your breasts as well. Your skin had red streaks all over it, painted like a Pollock. 

He didn’t last long, and just when he was ready to come, he pulled his cock out to explode all over your belly, rubbing his dick on you and smearing your fluids across your skin. 

The aftermath looked like a war zone. He didn’t help you to the shower until he had repeated his sanguine worship twice again, each time more feral, almost animalistic. It was as if it made him hungrier, watching your blood dry sticky and dark on your body. When you finally walked to the bathroom with him, he made you stand with him in front of the mirror, dipping his finger into you like an ink well, painting more lines and shapes across his ruined face and body, eating it, marking himself with your blood.

[kalki-tarot]

CHANNELED LOVE LETTER FROM FUTURE SPOUSE ♡

my readings are for entertainment purposes only! tarot is a divination tool. it is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. please be mindful of your own choices and actions ♡

PILE 1

Hello beautiful/handsome,

I saw you in the party, where everyone was busy with themselves, with their own groups. And you, you were sitting alone, pouring your own drink. You looked very beautiful to me. Just like a queen/king. Your straightforwardness and dominant behavior, is what I love the most. I crave you, dear. Oh. I can literally fight to win you. You are just like a prize. You have your priorities clear. Even if it's a run and chase, I'll follow you everywhere till my heart stops and i die.

You are very career oriented, you don't bs unnecessarily. I love your perception of life. I love how you stand up for yourself, even if you're alone. You are just like a Queen to me. You seem very distant, as if you're lost in your dreams. You have that dreamy side of yours too? I don't know. I just observe you from afar. You give me such soothing vibes, I just love being around you.

You make me forget my miseries. I love how you don't do wrong to anyone. You are very compassionate and loving. You can give love to even non living objects. You're so full of love. That makes me wanna love you, even more. Sweetheart. I love you. I want to pursue you, i want to make you mine. Do you think the same? Do you love me just the way I love you? I'm waiting for your answer.

Yours faithfully,

Love.

PILE 2

I don't have the right words to truly express what I feel. I'm not in a good place right now. It feels as if everyone has given up on me. I'm sorry if I'm I'm making you uncomfortable but certain situations are out of my hands. I feel left out in the cold. I have the responsibility of my family on my shoulders. I'm trying to make fast changes. I'm trying to do everything on my own.

I'm very repressive of my emotions. I was not taught how to deal with them. Sometimes I try to run away from life. But then I get reminded of you. I look at the night's sky, full of stars and I wonder maybe you are like a star too. Lightening the dark and cold world with compassion and warmth. You give me true strength. And I'm forever grateful for your presence in my life. I'm holding onto a lot of things right now. I know i should let everything free, even myself. It's okay to make mistakes, right?

After every storm, there is a deep silence. Where everything remains silent, destroyed and out of control. No matter what life throws at me, I'll come back to you with ten times more strength, power & especially love and respect for you. It's life after all, right? Everything comes and goes. Maybe these times will pass? But I'll love you more with each passing moment for sure.

Yours Only Forever

💗

PILE 3

I have too much of love and wealth. And that too much is being sucked off by others. I don't know what to do. Money can't buy love, sweetheart. I'm in a toxic relationship. They are taking away my everything. Literally everything.

I don't remember the last time I laughed. The money I earned through hard work, the morals and kindness my family taught me, everything is in vain. Everything is slowly leaving my body. I feel empty from inside. This person is taking away it all.

But I'm working hard, more hard, harder than even. So that I can provide you a better lifestyle. I can't expect anything from anyone. I have to do it all alone. Please remember me in your prayers. I'm afraid to let go. Everything is being taken away from me. I don't know what to do, I'm confused. I'm not sure which road to take. I believe the universe will guide me where I'm supposed to be, near you. I'm depressed nowadays. Very hopeless.

But I'm doing whatever i can do right now. I'm unable to even sleep at night. They lied to me. They deceived me. They were my life partner, but there was nothing "life-like" with them. It was just a relationship built on money. And you know how these type of things end. There is no emotion left in me. I'm blank. I don't know. They left me in the middle of the road.

PILE 4

Hello pretty soul ♡

You know what? I see you every where. Whenever I go, wherever I go. I see you, i get reminded of you, by the flowers, the clovers, the river, the clouds and even the sun! You are a beautiful and positive person! You are such a great fighter! Whatever obstacles comes between our happiness, you remove it all. I get so happy and optimistic near you, my love. I'll fight with literally anyone for you, just for you.

You bring absolute calmness and peace into my chaotic life. You are a sweet breeze flowing softly over my cheeks on a warm, sunny day making me blush. I want to take care of you and love you for eternity. I want to offer you all the love that I have inside me, just for you babygirl/boy. I want to experience new things with you everyday. You make my life feel lively. ✨️

Dear, sometimes I too get lost in my past, that was not, unfortunately that happy for sure. I got lied to, i was betrayed by someone I called mine. I can't sleep properly due to this. I get nightmares and I get so f*king scared. I feel anxious and uncomfortable. But the good news is! I'm forgetting it day by day. Just a little progress makes it a whole lot of progress. I don't want to remember all these with you. I'm working hard, I'm moving forward. And i hope you're too <3

By,

Your one and only . ❤️

[tsuvvy]

You drew stars around my scars

Pairings: Percy Jackson x reader, Annabeth Chase x reader, Connor Stoll x reader, Leo Valdez x reader (separate)

Summary: They comfort your insecurities of your scars

Warnings: Mentions of scars but no specifications of how they got there, I tried to keep it Gender neutral but kind of failed

You stood in front of the mirror, the sight of the scars on your body making you nauseous. They were disgusting. You were disgusting. Everything about your scarred and ugly body was disgusting.

They made you ugly, gross, and disgusting.

You hadn't heard them come in..

"What's got your pretty head so wrapped up, huh?" He questioned from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts. You raised your gaze to see Percy behind you in the mirror, his arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame, that flirty dumb smirk that made you swoon laid on his lips.

You turned towards him. "How long have you been there?" You questioned, still a bit startled.

"I asked first." He retorted, pushing himself off of the door frame and coming towards you.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. You looked away from the mirror; away from him.

"It's nothing," you said, turning away from the mirror all together and grabbing your shirt off the bed. Before you could put it on, Percy pulled the shirt out of your hands, multitasking and pulling you closer with his other arm.

"You and me both know thats a lie, sweetheart," you spoke into your ear.

"Get off, Percy.." You sighed.

"You're beautiful," you paused. He knew, didn’t he? He knew of your insecurities without you even telling him. But, maybe he was just saying that to say that.

His thumb swiped across a scar on your thigh. That made you realize he did know. He was extremely observant and perceptive despite the learning curves he's had.

"No..." You muttered under your breath. You didn’t agree with him.

He kissed your cheek. "C'mon, hon," he led you over to the bed.

"Wait, what?" Before you could even question anything, Percy had laid on top of you. "Percy! Get off of me!"

"Nope!" He grinned down at you. "I'm not getting off until you agree with me that you are beautiful!"

You sighed in annoyance, giving him a scowl before he leaned his weight on you and hugged your middle. No matter how annoying and stubborn he was, he always managed to make you feel better.

You hugged him with one arm, and you winded your hand into his hair.

Even if the inkling of insecurities still rests in the back of your mind, Percy would keep them in the back. As long as he was with you, there was no chance those thoughts were coming forward. He's there for you, and he always will be.

I feel like she's a little ooc, so sorry if she is 😓

"What's wrong?" She asked. She could always tell. All it took for her was a glance your way, and she could read every emotion you felt.

You glanced at her in the mirror, your gaze resting back on your scars.

Annabeth waited a moment before sighing softly. She stepped forward towards you, placing a warm and comforting hand on your elbow.

"You have to get out of your head, love," her voice was soft, comforting. Something she didn't show a lot of the time unless she fully trusted who she was talking to.

"I know," you muttered, stepping into her arms, "I know I do, it's just.. It's just so hard, sometimes." Annabeth stared at you for a moment.

She grabbed your hand, "Come with me," she told you.

"Where are we going?" You asked softly.

"To the strawberry fields." She gave you a smile.

You stared at her. Now, the back or her head as she leads you to the strawberry fields. She always knew you so well. The strawberry fields were always so calming to you. You liked to take strolls in them whenever you were feeling stressed.

"My love," you looked up from the strawberries, looking to your girlfriend.

"Yes?"

"You are beautiful." Your lips parted in a bit of surprise. "I love your scars, and your hair, and your smile, and just.." She paused, kneeling down and giving you a kiss on the cheek. "I love you."

You hadn't seen or even heard the sneaky son of Hermes come into the room. You only noticed him when his warm hand grabbed your hand from behind you startled you.

"Connor?" You questioned, having jumped a moment before when he startled you.

You looked at him in the mirror. His hand on your arm was so light, yet so firm and warm. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw him lean down to your arm, his lips touching a scar on said arm.

You watched him trail his gentle kisses along your scars. Gods, you loved his kisses, and he loved giving them.

Your heart rate increased when his other hand met your torso, gently pulling you to face him just as his lips got to the base of your neck.

"Connor..." You muttered, but he didn't respond as he kissed your jaw.

You gasped softly when his lips finally met yours in a firm yet gentle kiss. And just like his hands on your body, it made you swoon. You leaned into him, and he set his hands on your hips as you laid your arms around his neck.

"You are beautiful," He said, just barely against your lips. You could feel his breath as he spoke, "say it back, tell me you are beautiful."

You were silent for a moment. His eyes had stayed closed for a few moments after the kiss, but when he opened his eyes. You were met with his beautiful sky blue eyes.

"I.." You hesitated, your lip trembling for a second. "I'm beautiful.." You finally muttered out, voice slightly shaky.

"There you go," He smiled, giving your lips a few pecks, "my beautiful girl."

His thumb was gently swiping over a scar on your hip. You didn't want his thumb anywhere else. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a bit better about yourself.

You felt beautiful.

"Well, look at my gorgeous baby!" Leo cheered, that happy smile you could never resist on his face. He hugged you from behind, his warm and dirty arms landing around your waist. He hadn't realized you were feeling down. Not immediately, anyway.

Leo paused, looking at you in the mirror. He could tell something was wrong. "What is it, mi amor?" He questioned. Those dumb nicknames always made your heart flutter.

"Nothing, I..." You paused, swallowing your disgust for yourself. "I'm fine.." Your voice was quieter.

"I can tell when something is wrong," his arms tightened, "Tell me." He urged almost desperately. He hates seeing you upset, and he hates not being able to help even more.

"I feel.." You paused, staring at him in the mirror. Your eyes locked within it. He was listening intently and waiting patiently for what you would say. "My scars.." You said softly.

"Your scars?" He questioned. He ran his hand across one of the scars on your torso, "What about em'? I love em'"

Your heart fluttered at the feeling of his warm hand over the scar. "How could you possibly love them?" You asked, tears welling in your eyes. Your voice was almost breathless, he has to be lying. "They're so gross and ugly, and.." You stopped, preferring to hold the sob in your throat back rather than continuing on rant.

Leo's gaze softened, "Hey, hey.." He gently turned you around. You just opted to hide your face within your hands. "Hey, Hermosa," his voice was gentle, so we're his hands as he grabbed yours, prying them off your face. "You are the most gorgeous person I have ever laid my eyes on, and a few scars isn't going to change that." He could tell his words weren't helping, so he decided on something that might.

Leo backed up for a second, pulling his shirt over his head. "You say I'm handsome all the time," he started, pointing at a scar on his chest. "Does this make me any less handsome?" He questioned.

You sniffed, wiping your eyes and nose. "No..." You muttered quietly.

"Right," he dropped his shirt on the floor and stepped closer to you. One of his arms, he winded behind your back, pulling you closer to him. Then his other, he raised his hand, wiping you tears with his gentle yet calloused thumb, "So why should your scars make you any less beautiful?"

He placed his hand on your jaw, gently holding it as he leaned in and set his warm lips on top of yours.

[thepurestgirll]

Unconditional love ✧˖°

Scaramouche is extremely perceptive when it comes to someone he loves, however he decided that letting you take your own time and feel comfortable enough to tell him about it would be more appropriate. To tell you the truth, he always found your concerns about your appearance or personality a bit stupid. What do you mean you are saying that you are too thin or overweight? You look beautiful. How can you say that your nose is too big or that your hair is ugly? It looks wonderful on you.

When we're talking about comfort, Scaramouche is a bit awkward about it. He will simply hold you in silence until you feel better. (Then he'll probably go after the person who made you cry and give him a few sleepless nights.)

If anyone makes any offensive comments directed at you, I pray to whoever made them. There are two possibilities, either he will stare at them (silently warning them that they would die soon) or he will give them free trip to the hospital later. (But in both situations the person “mysteriously” disappeared later.)

Xiao can notice any changes in your behavior, especially since he'll kind of be by your side most of the time. Like Scaramouche, he finds your insecurity about your appearance unnecessary. You always seemed perfect to him, and maybe that's why he has a goofy little smile on his lips whenever he's with you. (even though he just tells you that you're just seeing things and that he never once smiled.)

When it comes to comfort, he is extremely shy in certain situations, and interestingly, giving compliments is one of them. Don't get him wrong, he could be admiring you all day, but it would take hours for him to say anything about it. But when he does, you can be sure that his compliments would be as sweet as possible. However, you can see that the frequency with which he compliments you increases when he realizes that you are having problems with your appearance. He will do his best to make you feel good about yourself, and his last concern is how long it will take.

It would be difficult for any kind of offensive comment to even reach you (since he gives everyone he talks to you a death glare.) But if it happens… he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty.

Kazuha is a total sweetheart. Any change in your behavior can make him worry. You are quieter than usual? He has already asked you if something is wrong. Looks sad? Get ready for a three-hour conversation where he will hear you say all your concerns without saying a single word. He's the type of person who knows every little detail about his lover, and finds every single one of them beautiful, without exception.

I personally believe that Kazuha is one of the best in comfort. He is a good listener, he is gentle with words, and above all, he loves you and treats you in the best possible way. If you're insecure about your scars, I imagine him running his finger over each one, giving little pecks to each one, and then offering to show you his own in an attempt to make you feel better.

When it comes to offensive comments, it's no different. His first priority would probably be to get you out of that situation as quickly as possible, and then he would have a small “talk” with the person. And you, of course, would receive a nice treatment of kisses and hugs from your boyfriend until you forgot all the bad things that happened.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Author's note: like always, open requests and everything you already know! I feel like this writing is a bit messy, so I'm sorry if it wasn't good enough or if there were any grammatical errors, English is not my first language…

I've done my best to write through the stress, but knowing that I've been getting so many good people in my asks just to ask if i'm okay just makes me so happy! Thank you so much for all the love, I really appreciate it <3 Remember that you are perfect just the way you are, and that your weight, your grades or anything superficial does not define you! Thank you for your attention, dear reader <3

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen react to their s/o doubting themselves in their relationship

requested by anon: So this is a very specific request and you don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable or do not like it/are uninspired by it. But how would they handle it if you're in a relationship with them but start doubting whether you're good enough for them? It's a bit sad but I'm curious. Thank you <3

notes: the super soft fluff and the super sad angst are Both my strong points. i love them both so much.

masterlist

seungcheol, jeonghan, hansol 

he's noticed the way you've been hesitating around him lately, no longer throwing yourself on top of him for hugs and no longer responding as well to him nudging your heads together to ask for kisses. he's worried, and he's incredibly adamant that Communication is Key in relationships (and he's right) so he asks you during a lull in the evening one day why you're being so distant. it takes a while, but he's patient and he just wants to know you're okay, and eventually when you break and tell him everything he gets really sad and starts hugging you as you cry. begins to cry himself, bc he didn't realise you were thinking that way, and tells you over and over that he loves you and he's with you because you make him the happiest ever and there's no need to worry about something like that. he's going to be with you forever and ever, whether you like it or not. 

joshua, junhui, dokyeom

incredibly perceptive when it comes to these things. knew that you were upset and he's been constantly asking you if you're okay, but you just continue to brush it off until he walks into your room one day to find you silently sobbing to yourself in the middle of the room. immediately drops to his knees on the floor beside you, making those gentle shushing noises to try and calm you down, and when you push him away he makes that small wounded noise, worried that he's done something wrong. he's gentle with you, like you're a fragile creature, when you tell him that you've been worried that he's too good for you. tells you very sincerely that he doesn't think anyone will be able to put up with him as well as you have and that honestly, he's not sure if he'd like anyone else to. for him, there's only you. asks if he can touch you, scoops you up into a big and warm hug that lasts until one of you needs to pee (him) 

wonwoo, jihoon, minghao

the conversation was probably brought up through an almost-argument. you're tired and insecure, which makes you snappish, and he's tired too, leading to biting exchanges that gradually get worse until you finally grit out that you're afraid he's going to leave you because there are better people out there. that makes the anger leave his body instantly, eyes widening. he didn't know you felt like that in the slightest, and he slowly tries to go over and touch you, stepping back if you move away. he feels like it's partly his fault for maybe not being as affectionate in the relationship as you'd like, and promises to do better and make you feel more reassured in the relationship if that's what you need. even if you say it's okay, he'll promise it anyway, because he knows how awkwardness can make him distant sometimes, and he never wants you to think he's going to stop loving you someday

hoshi, mingyu, seungkwan, chan

i think he'll start overthinking your distant nature, taking it as a sign that you don't think he's good enough for you, and comes to you all wobbly-voiced to very genuinely ask if you're tired of him, because he knows that he's not the easiest person to handle at times and if there's something about him that's bothering you, he'll try to fix it for you. it takes you by surprise, because you were afraid that he was tired of you, and yet he's come to you and said this. you end up embarrassedly telling him the reason for your distance, and both of you are crying and laughing because it's a little ridiculous and you're both just in love with each other so much that it has managed to lead to complications like this. you end up pinky-promising each other that neither is undeserving of the other, and exchange sappy 'i love you's for about an hour straight

request guidelines

[prismatoxic]

okay, shipping brainrot from my last post aside, i'm still thinking about the shapeshifter arc. the other sites i use don't have inline posting or do but it's clunky, so i guess i'm theorizing here. some of this may seem obvious; bear with me, i'm not trying to be patronizing, just working through things. this will probably be long.

(edit: i've since learned there's canon explanations for all of this. regrettably i don't like them. enjoy my ideas of what would be better maybe? but keep in mind i wrote this before i knew it had been explained anywhere else.)

laios reveals what he knows of shapeshifters, and that they function on memory:

no one ever really suggests in chapters 39 or 40 who thought of which fake except in the case of which ones laios must have thought of, but i want to posit who i think each one came from, and what it means narratively if i'm right. so, mostly a thought experiment/character study that i could be wrong about or that was never meant to be clearly defined in the first place. but maybe fun to think about? (i'm sure other people have done this before too, but i think it'll be fun to write up.)

from the outset, i think it's worth mentioning that chilchuck knows all three laios fakes are, in fact, fakes. two chilchucks say this, but the one on the right is the real one. senshi and marcille immediately corroborate this, though we can't tell which of them it is except that it's not any of the really obvious fakes.

what i think this suggests is that, brought to the surface, the warped perceptions of the rest of the party that chilchuck, senshi, and marcille have can be easily discerned when compared with the real thing. each of these laioses is from one of them, but they immediately figure out none of them are right with the real laios right there in the room. this is important.

as for who's who...

i think it's fair to assume that giant laios is from chilchuck. laios is the tallest member of their party, at six feet; while chilchuck sees marcille and senshi as their correct heights, laios is a giant to him, and his bulky armor doesn't help. that's why, even if this is his perception, it's glaringly obvious that it's wrong as soon as it's made physical. it's the only big one, and easily falls into the camp of "doesn't seem to know much about monsters" that the others also do.

stupid laios is, i think, from marcille. because the giant one is so likely chilchuck's and i don't think senshi sees laios as someone who stupidly wants to eat everything (even if senshi's opinion of him isn't stellar right now, "i have to eat it" wouldn't be paired with being an idiot to senshi), it tracks that marcille would be the one to remember him this way. to someone who doesn't appreciate their monster eating and otherwise thinks he's an idiot just as much as the others do, dumbly muttering about eating things seems like a reasonable portrayal of laios.

feminine laios, then, is from senshi. i think his physical perception of the other party members is the most off-base; this is likely because he's known them for the least amount of time, and his idea of what they look like is based more on their races than anything else. i think the resemblance to falin might not be intentional--someone suggested to me the other day that the dwarf perception of tall-men is probably more feminine in contrast to how Macho dwarfs are. i think that makes sense (if it ever comes up canonically, i haven't seen it yet). laios and falin do just... look like gender-swapped versions of each other, also. so if senshi sees laios as a feminine person, well... that just winds up looking like falin.

so this leaves us with only the real laios. confronted with their perceptions of him, his friends can immediately tell all three are incorrect.

moving on, we eliminate the three most obvious fakes from the rest of the party, starting with marcille:

if we take into account what i just said about senshi, i think this is his. racial stereotypes about elves being what they are, him not knowing the party as well as the other members do... she stands out, and that's why.

now this is where things start to get interesting.

the next two fakes to be eliminated aren't so blatantly incorrect that they can be struck right out at a glance, but it's not hard to notice the flaws when you look closer, and chilchucks A and B are the ones to point it out. chilchuck is naturally observant; most of his fakes seem to emulate this. (the one who addresses the fakes is A, the real one, but B is proving himself able to pick up on the things A notices. this is important.)

notably, chilchuck and senshi assume these must be laios's versions of them.

we can assume this is correct, if we want to. we can take the framing of this as being an intentional reflection of the truth.

or... or... we can look a little deeper. we can wonder if, perhaps, this isn't a reflection of laios, but a reflection of his friends and what they think of him. laios may not immediately notice the problems, but i don't think it's because he doesn't remember these details. i don't think laios sees much of anything in vague terms; he's observant in his own right, but in ways he doesn't really recognize, nor does anyone else. i think he was so focused on their faces and mannerisms that he didn't notice the bigger picture, glossing over something because so many other factors are at play.

senshi and chilchuck think laios doesn't take notice of things, but the vast majority of the shapeshifter arc is about them and marcille not trusting laios's judgement as it is, given how things went recently. is it possible there's more to their assumptions here than what the text explicitly says? i think so!

so then who do these two belong to? marcille, i think.

if we assume dumb laios is hers, then we can also assume her perceptions of the others are kind of broad and vague. she doesn't think poorly of them, necessarily (at least not in as obvious a way as she does with laios, who, i'll remind you, she's currently upset with), but she doesn't commit unimportant details to memory, like chilchuck's neck band or the damage to senshi's helmet.

we've got three more "obvious" fakes to get through, and laios offers another lore tidbit on how the shapeshifters work:

anyway, the first of the next round is marcille again, setting the stage for how these three next fakes are eliminated.

marcille changes her hairstyle all the time, so this isn't a surprise. the last one pictured here winds up being our next fake, as indicated by her grimoire:

so the fake marcille in this section is the one with the most visibly different hair texture (who even draws attention to this), and the spellbook that's woefully incompetent. i think she's from chilchuck.

he's observant, as i said before; even if he didn't commit her hair to memory, he did remember the stuff she's said about how important hair is to magic. maybe that's why the texture is so striking. more importantly, chilchuck isn't wary of magic quite the way senshi is, but he also doesn't understand it. the general tone of the low-quality grimoire also just... sounds like the way he'd frame something like that. (plus, the "how to turn back time" bit is a thing he specifically called her on when she suggested it a few chapters ago.)

so the next fake chilchuck and senshi are revealed via their tools:

i think the chubby-cheeked chilchuck with the simple lockpicks is from senshi, and i think the ordinary-looking senshi with the simple cookware is from chilchuck. the former speaks for itself--senshi sees chilchuck as a child, and knows absolutely nothing about picking locks. as for the fake senshi, chilchuck has a decent mental image of him but knows nothing about cookware.

so now we're down to the final three fakes, and there's only one person left who they could be from: laios. nobody thinks this, not even laios himself, but i want to explore the concept because i think it has extreme merit. the three remaining fakes have some key similarities between them, namely in that they're all close enough interpretations that making a distinction is difficult. they look a tiny bit different, but both the real people and their fakes make plausible cases for why they're the actual person. i want to talk about why i think laios is the one who made that so, and what that means about him.

chapter 39 ends with all his companions--real and fake--doubting his skills. seeing a pattern?

chapter 40 opens with laios determined to regain his friends' trust in him...

...while his friends (and their fakes) talk about how he's liable to like the fakes more, because they're monsters.

this is a needlessly cruel interpretation of laios, but after how things went post-falin-rescue, it's not a surprise. they see him as reckless and single-minded, more interested in the things he's weird about than in the people around him.

laios is really bad at talking about what he's thinking--not because he's hiding it, but because it doesn't occur to him that it's important. meeting the lunatic magician in the paintings is a prime example of this, but he does it a lot. they likely have no idea why he told toshiro about falin and the black magic; to them, laios was being flippant with sensitive information, not worrying about their safety. to laios? he was trying to get help. he trusted toshiro, and his perception of their friendship made him think the information would help them gain an ally who cared about falin as much as they do. he wasn't trying to put falin or marcille in danger--far from it, in fact. but he didn't tell his friends about his thought process. he didn't think it was important to share.

(he's autistic but we all know this. moving on)

so, we have laios's plan: the pairs cook together, while he watches for behavioral differences to discern who's who. it doesn't occur to him, or anyone else, that the people he's watching for mistakes are his own perceptions of his friends. and now we get into the meat of why i wanted to write this post.

assuming i'm correct... let's talk about laios's view of his friends, and how he challenges those perceptions.

starting with my favorite, chilchuck:

chilchuck A, of course, is in fact the real one. this is a pretty significant character moment for him too, in my opinion; we know he has difficulty expressing his emotions, and that a lot of his conflicts so far have stemmed from that. the fact that "chilchuck B asked for help with a menial task" is a gotcha moment to him is... telling. not only because it's so obvious to him, but because it's not obvious to any of his companions. he thinks they know this about him, but he's never openly expressed anything to make them think this is an issue he'd have, in addition to having sought help in the past.

his "convictions and pride and all that" seems to them like someone trying to convince them of something, not someone reminding them of facts he assumes they know.

anyway, back to laios. if we accept that chilchuck B is made from his memories, this suggests several things. first of all, chilchuck B is, despite his softer eyes and willingness to ask for help, still a fairly accurate portrayal of chilchuck. he's easily annoyed and he's observant, two traits chilchuck is known for. i think the reason chilchuck B has the kinder eyes and the more gentle disposition is because to laios, those things are indicative of someone being a good person, and he very much thinks chilchuck is a good person.

we know laios isn't especially good at reading people in general. thus, his idea of who his friends are is skewed in broad strokes, but not in the ways they think. he knows who chilchuck is, but he also associates chilchuck with his own ideas of what makes someone "good", which results in a chilchuck who's less rough around the edges. confronted with this--the real chilchuck asking him if he can tell--laios compares the two and thinks, reasonably speaking, the nicer one who trusts him has to be the friend he respects so much.

senshi and marcille also want to accept this chilchuck, likely for similar reasons. they also respect and care for him; they've seen him go through a lot. laios's ideal of him is just that, ideal. in a roundabout way, it's only their deep fondness for who chilchuck really is that makes them want to see him this way.

next up, we have marcille.

the fake, marcille A, is a radical departure from what makes chilchuck B a fake. laios notes that the real marcille is exactly the same as she always is. the reason, then, that marcille A confuses him--and the others--is that after everything they've been through, their perception of her has changed radically.

if we look back to senshi and chilchuck's marcilles, it's readily apparent when they're eliminated that both interpretations hinge on the knowledge that she performs black magic. senshi's tries to use it to prove herself; chilchuck's has a grimoire loudly proclaiming it's what she does. contrast this to marcille A: she doesn't mention black magic at all, and her grimoire looks strikingly similar to the real one.

that's because laios doesn't think her performing black magic changes anything about who she is. her doing so proved her to be just as dedicated to falin as he himself is, and the knowledge that her goals involve it doesn't faze him. (additionally, marcille has been teaching him magic, and falin had tried in the past. though his image of a grimoire is flawed to someone experienced, to anyone else it looks fine.) thus, marcille A isn't a flagrant black magic wielder; she's someone who's been fundamentally changed by what they--and falin--went through.

let's go back to chapter 27:

chilchuck and senshi are appalled, and will continue to be. while they ultimately don't prevent marcille from doing this, and care enough about both her and laios (and in chilchuck's case, falin as well) to be in tentative support, this changes their view of her in a negative way. she's dangerous now, in a way she wasn't before, but she's still marcille--goofy and a little reckless. thus, their views of her, and the illusions that result.

laios's opinion of her changes for the better.

she is, all at once, both competent and loyally dedicated. she will stop at nothing to help falin. whatever goofiness she exhibited before now is gone, replaced by the cold demeanor of someone who is doing something extremely dangerous for reasons that are inherently selfish, but ultimately too important to reject.

thus, we return to marcille A: cold, sharp, dedicated. not reckless or goofy, but methodical and haunted. she may have returned to "normal" since they left the castle town, but laios's opinion of her, and understanding of her love for falin, has been forever changed.

so faced with the real marcille--still silly, still whining, still frequently annoyed with him--he's confused, because that's deeply familiar, but it doesn't line up with what he knows about her now.

the truth, of course, is nuanced--these things are true about marcille, but only under duress; it's similar to how laios becomes a competent leader when the going gets tough. she has this within her, but it's not her default state of being. still, the shapeshifter picks up on the strongest memories laios has of her, this new interpretation of someone he thought he knew.

now then--onto senshi, the punchline of this particular joke about the differences between the copies. i still think it says a lot.

i think this one speaks for itself, though i find chilchuck's agreement interesting. senshi is the newest member of the team; little is known about him. laios happily notes that senshi "always looks cool" while chilchuck says he looks normal (and chilchuck B insults the real one). laios sees senshi this way because he thinks senshi is cool as hell, and this manifests in an idealized version of a face he's not as familiar with as he is with chilchuck and marcille.

this is clearly comedy, but it also speaks to the same desire to see the best in the rest of the party. marcille is the only one who notices likely because her opinion of senshi isn't so romanticized. chilchuck's senshi, of note, wasn't a perfect replica: we don't see much of him after the obvious fakes are hauled off, but he's a little squashed (he's the top one):

which indicates that chilchuck's visual memory of senshi is already flawed. if we compare this to giant laios and the marcille with the unique hair texture, it tells us chilchuck's attention to detail is more specific than the others'; he can remember the hole in the helmet, the importance of hair, but he doesn't quite see the bigger picture. giant laios is also surprisingly... rugged? which i imagine has to do with chilchuck's perception of him as a tall-man. (or maybe how he clearly has trouble seeing laios's face half the time, lmao...)

anyway. laios thinks senshi is super cool and chilchuck has an imperfect idea of what senshi look like as it is. (i wonder if chilchuck is some degree of faceblind? not enough to not recognize someone at all, but can't pinpoint specifics.)

and so, we arrive at the moment of truth.

so let's go over what i'm theorizing here... all the remaining fakes are illusions based on how laios sees his friends. the illusions manage to make mistakes that reveal the truth to him, but i think the reason for that harkens back to what laios said earlier... the illusions are being updated over time.

laios isn't considering any of the things that give the fakes away until this moment. if it had taken a little longer to resolve things, maybe they'd have started course-correcting, but they aren't given the chance. laios makes sure they aren't--he acts very quickly. even as he presents the three pairs with his findings, he's aware that everything will fall apart as soon as he does... and he's banking on that. while the shapeshifter illusions defend themselves from being killed, he gets right to the heart of the matter in the only way he knows how: confronting the actual monster involved.

when all's said and done, laios reveals how he figured it out:

potentially of note, all of these details happened before the red dragon fight. chilchuck fighting a mimic and revealing his history with them, senshi gushing about the dungeon's ecosystem, and marcille being attacked by the undine weren't super recent memories. when laios brought them forth in his mind, he had a delay before the shapeshifter updated its illusions.

well... except with marcille. marcille A actually didn't show her hand so easily; it was the real marcille's carelessness that proved her identity.

but what this suggests is that, when confronted with the realities of marcille versus his idealized version of her, laios had to make a choice: did it make more sense for her to have been radically changed by the revival and subsequent loss of falin, or was the presence of a marcille he knew so well proof of an illusion? she was the one who was the most different, and as such, the contrast was the same one that eliminated all three laioses at the start: with the real thing in the room, the fake became apparent.

so, to reach a conclusion: one again, laios has proven he's not as scatterbrained as his companions think, but this time he did so on a more personal level than usual. to them, he reveals that he knows their quirks enough to define them by such when they're otherwise faced with convincing copies. to us, the readers, if we accept what i've suggested here... he's revealed a lot more. he respects, admires, and idolizes his friends, all out of fondness: he wants to see them in an ideal way, whatever that means for each of them as individuals.

anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk