Phantom Touch | Headcanons
About: It was one thing to video call him, it was another, however, to call/answer while you were barely clothed.
Pairings: Xavier/Reader, Zayne/Reader, Rafayel/Reader
Notes: This idea came to me when Rafayel video called MC in the middle of the night (Lv 20 Random Painting). Also should I do Caleb's as well?
Warnings: 18+ only please! Enjoy :)
Xavier
It was by accident when it happened. You were trying to find your favorite hairpin after your shower but it was nowhere to be found.
You searched high and low, flipped cushions and threw your blankets onto the floor. Nothing. Goddamnit you can't afford to lose that hairpin- it was one of the gifts Grandma gave you, you just simply can't lose it.
In an act of desperation, you called Xavier on your phone, not caring whether you pressed on normal call or video call. You just needed him on because you might've left it in his place.
To say Xavier was surprised the moment you came on screen would be an understatement. He almost dropped his phone (it did slip from his hands but he was quick enough to hold onto it), and not a word you said has registered in his brain.
His eyes were fixated upon the water droplets that clung to you skin, following the trail a drop of water left behind as it slid down from your neck, to your decollete, and between your cleavage. His mind was busy tearing that insolent piece of cotton fabric into shred for daring to shield you from his gaze.
It was only when you shuffled forward and waved a hand in front of the camera did he snap out of his less than innocent daydream.
"Xaiver? What are you staring at?" "Are you aware of what you are wearing?" "...Shit-"
"No, don't." He said the moment you tried to cut the call, and instead, with much strength he could muster not to ogle at your form again, he diverted your attention.
He found your hairpin lying on his bedside table and when you were about to thank him, a mischievous smile crept up his face, and you just knew what he was about to ask.
"Can I have a reward for finding it so quickly?" Xavier asked, his gaze predatory as he flicked his eyes down to stare at the towel that was clinging onto you for dear life. With slight trepidation, you settled down on the sofa, and slowly peeled off the towel that you knew he wanted off. Now.
You squeezed your thighs together and bit your lower lip when you heard the soft Mmh over the phone. He greedily drank in the sight of you, your bare, still unmarred skin glistening under the soft lights.
A daring thought suddenly struck you. Smiling at him, you brought your hands up to your breasts, propping them up and giving them a good squeeze (which he quietly groaned your name in response), before flicking your nipples.
You knew he was hard, with how he slumped against his sofa, one of his hands nowhere to be seen. The stuttered breath he let out made you wonder whether he was palming over his hard on as you gave him this little show.
He was. He was pressing his cock against his palm, rutting against it as you played with your pert nipples. He was imagining grinding his cock against you, fucking your slick folds as he buried his face between your breasts.
In a daring move, you tilted your phone downwards and lifted your legs, showing him the effect he had on you. But before you could spread yourself further to give him a better look, he suddenly stood up, giving you an eyeful of his clothed cock that was straining against the front of his pants.
Before he abruptly cut the call, he eyes drooped to a seductive narrow, and pinned you in place as he spoke.
"Don't move. I'll be there within the minute."
Zayne
Zayne, despite his icy demeanor, was a softie and a worrywart when it comes to you. He would always tell you to call him once you were home just so he knows you made it back safely.
So when he received a text asking if he was free and alone instead of a call, his curiosity was piqued.
As soon as he said that yes, he was alone and about to be off work, he received another text. A text that he did not expect you to send.
It was a picture of you on his bed, wearing nothing but one of his white button up shirts, if he can even call it that. You didn't button it all the way, leaving your collarbone and cleavage bare for him to see.
He immediately video called you, and as expected, instead of commenting on your attire, the first thing he asked was-
"Why are you in my bed?" "I knew you'd ask that first. Really?"
You explained with a huff that you wanted to surprise him a little. It has been a while since you two have seen each other for more than 5 minutes, with you two being busy with work and all. And with his day off being tomorrow, you jumped on the chance to be with him.
After a beat of silence and you fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he sighed, his features softened at your nervous fidgeting.
"Well, go on then. What do you have to show me?" "Show you- Aren't you still at the hospital?" "It's a peaceful day and I'm alone in my office. Would you give me a preview at what's in store for me at home?"
He stared on intently as you teased your nipples, brushing over them while they were still covered. Your pert nipples poked through his shirt, the outline of them fueling his imagination.
If you were on his lap right now, he would've done that for you whilst sucking on one of your nipples through the shirt you were wearing.
You were about to unbutton the shirt but his voice stopped you. "No, don't. Leave it on... Good."
He made no move to touch himself, as anyone could walk in at any moment, but by God did he want to. His eyes flicked between your flushed face and your body, already imagining the places he would leave his mark on.
He already knew what he would do to you once he got home. He would set you down on his lap, forcing you to feel how hard you made him with your little show, and leave open mouthed kisses on your neck while slipping his hands under his?- no, yours now, with how well you wear it, shirt.
But deep down he knew that once he got home, he would have no patience for that. He would most likely push you down to the bed and use one hand to grope your breast, while the other fixed your hip in place, allowing no escape as he rutted his stiff cock against you. He doesn't care if his pants get ruined, he just wants you-
"Zayne?" Your voice brought him back from his thoughts. And with much reluctance, he motioned for you to stop. "That's enough for now sweetheart. I still have to get home first." "Should I send you more pictures while you're on your way?" "No need. Just be a good girl and wait for me."
Rafayel
Being a painter, Rafayel would sometimes work late into the night, busy with his newest piece. And while he enjoyed the peace and quiet nightfall brings, at times he would find the studio too quiet, too suffocating, especially without you around. Thus, he would call you and ask you to keep him company as he painted.
And on this night, it was no different. Save for the brush strokes against the canvas, the room was too quiet for his liking. He had expected you to pick up within a few rings and show up disheveled on call, but as soon as you answered the call, the thought of teasing you like usual quickly dissipated.
"What- What are you wearing?" He diverted his gaze elsewhere, occasionally sneaking peeks at his phone screen while you blinked the sleep away from your eyes. Instead of your usual pyjamas, you were wearing a lingerie set he had not seen before.
He had half a mind to tell you to pull up the strap that had fell off your shoulder mid sleep, but the words died in his throat the moment you shifted and the strap slipped further down, revealing more of your decollete to him.
The blush that was already on his face intensified when he noticed the hickies on your skin, the evidence of him ravaging you highlighted by the moonlight shining through the window.
"Rafayel? What is it?" You asked, still half asleep. You wondered why he was quiet until you found him staring intently at your chest and- Oh. Of course.
You had bought it because you wanted to surprise him by taking pictures of it. But it seemed that you were too tired and fell asleep in the process. "...Surprise? I wanted to show you earlier but-" "Wait. Hold that position."
You did as you were told and froze. He was studying you again, perhaps for future reference. As much as you liked being his model, you pouted at his antics. Not even a single reaction? Sighing, you broke the silence between you two.
"I could come over and wear this for you, if you want." "You would do that for me?" "Of course." "Then come." "What?" "You said you would come over, no? Then come now. But before that..."
"Would you mind showing me more before I tear it off?" And how could you say no to a request like that?
Settling your phone down, you bent forward to show him your cleavage before standing to show off the lingerie you were wearing.
"Turn. Now hold it." You fidgeted as you faced away from the camera, wondering what he was doing as he marveled your form. The faint sound of rustling clothes and a belt unbuckling floated from the speaker, and you instantly knew what he was up to.
"Do you enjoy it that much?" "And what about it? Turn again."
As expected, he was sitting on an armchair, slowly stroking the base of his cock as he watched the thin fabric flutter around you. Heat pooled within you when caught his eyes roaming all over you, his face flushed and lips parted as he touched himself.
He groaned when you parted your legs to show him more of you, his cock throbbing at the sight of your slicked folds. Precome beaded at the tip as he stroked more, with some of it sliding down his tip and to the underside of his cock.
Something within snapped the moment you dipped your fingers into your wet entrance. And with one smooth motion, he stood up, unintentionally (or perhaps intentionally) giving you an eyeful of his stiff cock, and picked up his phone.
"Enough. Come to me now." "Just don't tear it when I'm there." "No promises." "Rafayel-" "Hurry now, before I come find you instead."
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on masks
so shockingly miracle mask has huge mask theming in like every aspect. basically every significant character is 'wearing' a mask literally or metaphorically, except for luke who remarks in ludmilla's costume shop that he doesn't think any of the masks suit him (since the events of the previous game luke can be authentically himself now.) this is fun to notice on its own, but there's more to be discussed than just the presence of masks.
every mask in miracle mask backfires on its wearer to some degree! the most obvious case of this is descole and the masked gentleman straight up underestimating their own mask/s and failing to see their plans to the end, and the resulting consequences. dalston and henry's masks of stoicism turn out to have kept them from years of friendship they could have enjoyed, and paint them both as suspects in the masked gentleman case. angela's aloof facade and distance from everyone around her allows her to be kidnapped for a significant portion of the game without anyone but the professor noticing (and even then, he notices that something's up with her, but chalks it up initially as not knowing her anymore). less obviously, emmy's mask only means she'll end up hurting the people she has come to care for even more when the time comes.
most interesting to me, though, is hershel! even as a teen he's remarkably reserved, though clearly passionate. he keeps himself very controlled, and seems to care very much about coming across to others as helpful, grounded, and 'normal'. the interests that we know he has he keeps locked up, literally hidden away in cupboards, not to be acknowledged aloud to himself or others. he never gets angry or ever really displays any stereotypical teen behaviours apart from awkwardness.
now what this means is he is treated as the reliable one who will nonetheless go along with whatever randall wants him to do. he's never particularly assertive (something he will learn to be as an adult) so his willingness is taken for granted. he's put in mortal danger in akbadain because it never occurs to randall that hershel's protests are anything more than for appearance's sake.
and when randall falls and hershel is alone, he yells! he falls to his knees, completely overcome. he cries. he pushes through. and when he reaches angela and henry, alone, covered in dirt, looking completely haunted... they don't even ask him if he's okay. angela bodily shakes him. in the past and present, nobody treats hershel as if he's been through something traumatic - to everyone else, he was either a bystander to or complicit in randall's death, but controlled, mild-mannered and rational hershel is never considered a victim in his own right even after years have passed for everyone to think on it. years after the fact angela apologises to hershel... when she realises she needs his help. and henry immediately accuses him of betraying randall's memory and abandoning him.
and to be clear this isn't me saying oh they're evil or whatever but it's significant that they acknowledge how the trauma affected them and their behaviour from that point forward but it doesn't occur to them that hershel's behaviour and life trajectory was also altered forever! because hershel has for his whole life masked so well that to everyone else he does not have an interior life that isn't puzzle solving.
and the absolute funniest thing about it is that when hershel confesses this all to emmy and luke.... it's immediately back to the investigation, "where do we go now professor!" i'm sure there's no reason to ask if hershel's okay, he's probably unaffected by all that, let's go! readers i laughed out loud. tfw you mask so well everyone forgets you're a person
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suicide cw
look i have been in this area before mentally. it sucks and i wouldn’t wish this on anyone. but, and this is going to sound callous, but i don’t feel any sympathy for james somerton. even if i hope he’s like. not dead. But thats all the amount of goodwill im willing to give him. The more i think about this really, the more angry i am.
ngl this entire situation is another example of how white people weaponize their mental illness to avoid consequences. Im seeing it in real time.
this man has a continuous habit of using self-harm as a get-out-of-jail-for-free card. in both of his apologies, he has worded his supposed attempts in ways that were clearly meant to guilt people who displayed his plagiarism and overall horrendous history of racism and misogyny. i say supposed because, while i’m not saying those are lies and this would he such a fucked up thing to lie about that i don’t want to think he has, unfortunately, it’s been proven again and again that his word can’t be trusted, as he’s known to lie to try get out of consequences. Hes a proven liar. him lying about this is actually the best case scenario, because no one should go through this entire situation, wouldnt wish this on anyone, but you can only do this so often before people stop sympathizing with you. is this callous? Yeah, but like. I’m actually fucking angry he cant straight up take no as an answer. that this is how he reacts realizing he cant be one of the Cool Kidz™️ on youtube anymore. he acts like he DESERVES a career, like its not a privilege hes lost due to his own actions.
He lied about apologizing and forgiving people, he lied about giving the money to hbomberguy to give to ppl he ripped off (yknow, instead of doing it himself), he lied about the jessie gender situation and rewrote the narrative to make it so he isnt the bad guy, and hes the victim all along actually!
you can’t tell me that supposed last message of his isn’t meant to be a 13 reasons why esq attempt to deflect the blame “look i’m going to kill myself and it’s all YOUR PEOPLES FAULT for not letting me achieve my DREAM of being filmmaker IN PEACE!!! I just wanted Nick’s (the guy who I have thrown under the bus again and again) portfolio up!! Im just being a good friend dont you all FEEL BAD” he refuses to take ANY ACCOUNTABILITY of any of his actions and he IS STILL trying to shove the blame over to other people again.
it’s also pretty ironic people are like “uhhh well hbomber’s fans harassed him!!!” like hbomber outright told people NOT to HARASS JAMES!!! ALSO acting as if james doesn’t have a very real documented history of STRAIGHT UP sending his fans to harass and threaten smaller creators, more notably women, trans, and bipoc creators. especially after he’s stolen typically very personal anecdotes so he could profit from them. so why can he do it but the second people are like “hey this guys an actual piece of shit.” and he can’t handle it suddenly people are trying to white knight his shit? like no he doesn’t get that. he doesn’t get that at all just because he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions.
what? were supposed to stay quiet about a man profiting off of other minorities because he wanted to be the spokesman for all gay people? people tried to solve this on a smaller, more private scales for YEARS and he kept doing it. it was clear that the giant public video was the ONLY way to get people to notice. HE WOULDVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH STEALING 87 FUCKING THOUSANDS WORTH OF DOLLARS. HE CANT HANDLE THE FACT HE CANT GET AWAY WITH IT.
am i supposed to feel bad for the guy who basically threatened a trans woman with the police? i don’t care what anyone says, it’s so fucking obvious that he threatened jessie by implying he was getting the police involved in their conflict. what am i supposed to act like that didn’t happen? are we supposed to pretend like he didn’t glorify nazi’s and outright said that gay people made up a good chunk of the nazis? That he didnt say america joined ww2 bc they were jealous of the NAZIS. WHAT WOULD POSSESS YOU TO FUCKING SAY THAT. but then? He gives women (not even women most of the time, he misgenders nonbinary ppl constantly) shit for writing mlm. are we supposed to act like he doesn’t straight-up sees himself superior and better than people of color and steals their works to put himself on a pedestal? Are we supposed to act like he didnt spit on our elders by saying “only the boring gays survived aids” like man! Fuck you! He BLANTANTLY MAKES UP HISTORY TO PUT HIMSELF ON A PEDESTAL!! HE ACTIVELY TRIED TO REWRITE LGBT HISTORY TO SUIT HIS FUCKED UP NARRATIVES!
yes this sucks ! no one deserves this but no one should be making him a martyr. Thats what he fucking WANTS! He wants to be immortalized as a victim!! (again, supposedly, it was reported hes alive but its not confirmed).
The shit he got isnt near the amount of fucking callous behavior hes done again and again. Again, to drill this point, EVEN IF HE DIDNT CALL THE POLICE HE THREATENED A TRANS WOMAN INTO THINKING HE DID!!! The fact he tried to use a head injury to justify years of the outright ghoulish shit fucking astounds me. Why the fuck did anyone in his life thought it was a good idea to let him TRY to come back. in the end, he had options. he didn’t need to try to make a comeback. HE DIDNT NEED TO FUCKING LIE OR IGNORE THE SHIT HE WAS CALLED OUT ON the reality is, he wanted to come back thinking he could shove it under the rug, was told that no dude, you’re not allowed to be a youtuber anymore. you’re done. you need to move on and went full nuclear. it’s not on anyone’s hands but his own. HES BEEN DOING THIS TO HIMSELF!! But nah man we cant call his shit out bc hell may or may not kill himself. Fuck the other minorities who have the same issues but worse and sometimes BECAUSE of him. This is going to SUCKKKK so bad when other ppl, specifically white gays, are going to weaponize this shit to get away with their stuff.
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I'm so annoyed. @kingcrow01 tumblr ate your ask about Danny's opinion on the League. tumblr i pressed 'save draft' why didn't you sAVE DRAFT.
ANyways I'm making a post instead. For everyone else, the ask was in summary:
What was Danny's opinion on the League now that he's left it? If he missed the familiarity of it, if he recognized the cult-like behavior inside it, and if he now detested his grandfather.
And to answer (again, grrr): It's complicated! We love complicated <3. Yeah, Danny does miss the familiarity of the League, it was still his home for the first ten years of his life and he has a lot of memories there. Plenty of good along with the bad, and while he's less homesick than he was when he was 10, it still hits him like a truck at random intervals.
Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are great, and he likes the Drs. Fentons enough that he's contemplated murdering Vlad for his meddling, but if he wants to eat the same food his mother used to make him and Damian, he has to do it himself and he can't get the taste right. No one knows arabic so he speaks it to himself because he doesn't want to forget his mother tongue, and he has a few books too. Frankly? He genuinely misses training.
Getting to use Sam's gym helps with his restlessness, same with training with Maddie, but he has no one on or above his level to go against other than his mother. And he only sees her twice a year at most. He knows that he's getting stagnant and he fucking despises it like a bad itch he can't scratch.
He feels conflicted about missing the League, however, since by now he recognizes the flaws and what was wrong with it, and he recognizes that it was cult-like. But even that is kinda, hrm, complicated? If this was a fic I would be able to go better into depth about what he has and hasn't unlearned because cult deprogramming is hard and Danny's doing most of this on his own.
Sam, Tucker, and Jazz have helped with the more obvious stuff: like the ecofascism, the disregard for human life, his emotional constipation; the more obvious stuff that shows in his behavior and personality. But none of them are professionals nor do they actually know the full extent of what Danny's life in the League was like. They only have snapshots since Danyal is very tight lipped about it. So they can only help with what they see themselves through Danny's behavior or word of mouth.
But in summary: He sees, for the most part, what's wrong with the League and disagrees with some of the stuff they do now. But he's very conflicted, and trying to dissect his feelings on the League confuses him. His protests about it whenever Sam and Tucker joke about it have at this point become mostly empty (altho it still causes him some discomfort), and its an inside joke between them three.
As for Ra's? Despises him. If only because Ra's wanted him to kill his little brother -- thinking about his motives with the League confuses Danny, cognitive dissonance and stuff, -- a lot of his hatred stems from "He wanted me to fight my baby brother to the death. I destroyed my relationship with Damian because of him, I had to fake my death and leave my home, and I will never meet my father or see my brother again because of him. Fuck that guy."
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I have seen people question whether dios apate minor really needed to happen the way it did. it's the 'this could have been an email' of htn. 'augustine this did not have to be a threesome', I hear people saying. and boy do I have an obnoxious amount of things to say to protest this perfectly sensible assertion so here we go haha
1) yes it absolutely had to be like that. It says so on this piece of paper *hands you a piece of paper that says "because I said so and also it's narratively and thematically Sexy"* in my half-legible handwriting. seeing tamsyn muir describe harrow the ninth as a book about being a kid and realizing your parents probably had sex has given me such validation, I am unstoppable now. (to be serious for a moment, harrow the ninth is essentially a bildungsroman, and the threesome scene does a whole lot of thematic heavy lifting around harrow glimpsing elements of adulthood, relationships, and sexuality she clearly finds at the same time repulsive, bewildering and fascinating, and around opening her and especially our eyes to how much john is just a man with human longings still, under the god stuff. dios apate is crucial plot- and character-wise too -- it's a loadbearing threesome in terms of delivering the clues you need to piece together the mystery plot of the book, which is simply delightful -- but even more so thematically. and then the scene at the end where they confront john gives gideon some of that same opportunity to peek into adulthood and go '...well shit I guess', as a sort of mirror, just without the french kissing that time and more murder. the things magnus and abigail model for the girls about love and adulthood? mercy and augustine are providing the opposite-day batshit insane version of that fhdskjfa, you know, for contrast and spice)
2) listen... it gets lonely out there in deep space with your 'legendary unamorous' brother, two infant pathetic baby kitten sisters who you'll probably have to kill one day when you take another stab at god if they don't manage to get themselves killed along the way on their own, and the two people you've spent the last ten thousand years having separate yet connected married & divorced arcs with and also btw one of them is god... honestly a threesome over the dinner table is probably The most well-adjusted reaction one might hope for under those circumstances
3) on a characterization level I think Augustine is actually doing something incredibly deliberate with it: he's presenting John with yet another chance to admit what he did. which is notable especially since the deal he and mercy agree on as a condition for the threesome to happen at all seems to be that they're going to give the ol' godslaying another game try sooner rather than later. (I get the sense that it's not so much that he disagrees with her ultimate goal so much as that he thinks she's being dangerously indiscreet and hasty going about it, before. “though I think it will be the death of us,” huh.)
notice how he's structuring the whole thing: he's invoking the intimacy and love in their strange little threeway relationship and how long it's been by truly playing along with john's 'we're a happy family really when we're at home! :)' delusion (helped along by lowered inhibitions via enormous amounts of alcohol and what I've previously described as a joint mercy/augustine leyendecker themed thirst trap. ah, a classic). he brings up alecto and what happened to her -- or rather, he is clever enough to make john bring up alecto and how she is totally dead, right?? by seeming to make a careless statement that leads there and then acting contrite about it after. he (helped along by mercy, who I think realizes exactly what he's doing -- this is very much a two-man con) brings up how much they all loved their cavaliers, and wow funny how that's been haunting us for ten thousand years now huh :) wow, a lot of our other lyctor friends slash family sure are super dead in the name of some unknowable greater reason neither of us quite grasp and that you won't fucking tell us, aren't they. these are all the main grievances he and mercy confront john about at the end of the book, but put forth much more subtly and not phrased as an accusation -- he's baring his and mercy's vulnerabilities as bait, essentially. if john had, say, a conscience where his conscience should be instead of a black hole, it probably should have stirred something in him.
(also let me just say... the way augustine just takes a pneumatic drill to the TWO tender spots g1deon seems to have and then has the audacity to be like 'oh dear. did that upset him. ooof my bad *loooong dead-eyed slurp of his wine*' is just sooo... he's such a bitch!!! he's the only person who could ever have held their own in a ten-thousand-year bitch-off with mercy and I love him so much. well even if it wasn't all to get g1deon into murder range for harrow I think he wouldn't enjoy sticking around for the 'getting our tongues on god' part of the evening so maybe it's a kindness, really, and totally not pent-up aggression from the last twenty years or so breaking through)
he is all but shaking john by the lapels begging him to just... come clean about it already, to stop thinking he's still kidding everyone else along with himself. it's clear throughout the book that augustine knows exactly what john is at this point -- and all of the most cynical things he does say about it turn out to be distressingly right. john is always less sentimental than you'd think. john wouldn't forgive mercy, he will abandon in a heartbeat anything that isn’t necessary to him anymore, whether emotionally or in some other way. and still he seems to hold out some desperate absurd hope that the man he wants, the man he thought was there, is in there, somewhere deep deep down, if he just gives him the chance to show himself.
(mercy definitely has her own side of this whole thing, I'm just focusing more on augustine because this evening was like. his idea in the first place and I feel like we can Read Some Things into that fact lol. now that we have both ntn and htn to go from I sort of have this sense that the things augustine wants from john are more... personal? more interpersonal? they both love him equally, but mercy's love seems tinged slightly more towards the religious (augustine accuses her of knowing 'only worship without adoration', which like... also the eight house's entire Vibe lol) -- mercy at the end of that book is totally a person breaking up with GOD, not just with john -- while augustine's vibe is more like a man in the last not-with-a-bang-but-a-whimper days of a marriage that sort of felt like it could have been something real and good once but all your illusions about it have since been taken from you and trampled underfoot into the mud and you've had the divorce papers signed and ready in a drawer for over a year now, hell, as it turns out, is other people etc. lmao)
having a threesome over the dinner table with god is one thing, having a threesome over the dinner table centered on the one man and god who has yet again let you down in a way so fundamental it can barely fit into words and who you both still love in a way anyway, miserably, and also just reaffirmed your joint resolution to murder (all under the pretense that it gives your baby sisters the chance to murder your brother of ten thousand years yeah that's why this is happening no other underlying aching emotional motivations here haha)... listen mercy and augustine are simply on a different level, theologically. they've added horny shrimp colours to the religious spectrum. who else does it like them
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