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#since he more or less agrees with most actions
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I feel like legolas is the kind of elf that, while he absolutely can take the reins of a situation and lead people, is also absolutely chill with being the second in command. Unless it’s needed or the one in charge is gonna do smth stupid, he’s fine letting other people deligate tasks and make decisions and such.
Legolas walks the fine line between being more of a solo act and being a team player
And you can see this pretty clearly in lotr too, like he lets Gandalf and Aragorn take the lead for the most part bc he knows this isn’t his area of expertise, but we also see his initiative and confidence when he volunteers himself for the quest instead of letting someone else take part (like glorfindel).
It’s also really important to me that legolas is someone who follows orders because he chooses to follow orders. He doesn’t follow orders bc he has to or bc it’s what he’s supposed to do, he lets other people tell him what to do only when he trusts them/trusts their decisions/agrees with them.
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kingkatsuki · 12 days
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— when you get him a birthday cake
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Masterlist.
It’s been a while and this has sat dusty and half-finished in my drafts for months, so Happy Birthday, Bakugou.🥺
Warnings: none. Pure fluff, not proofread.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 1.7k.
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Bakugou had never really celebrated his birthday, at least not since he was a child. Far too old for children’s party games and toys (although he’d still scour the internet for vintage All Might action figures as a gift to himself, because those most definitely weren’t toys).
But the thing that irritated him more than anything about his special day was the fact that everyone else seemed far more excited about it than him. Masses of texts from his friends, messages online and an influx of gifts from fans all trying to wish him a very Happy Birthday. News outlets and media suddenly in talks with his PR team to try and get an interview with him on the actual day; when truth be told he’d have agreed to it if they’d offered the day before. The tower of paperwork he was trying to work through had become tiresome and he was hoping for a distraction.
How was it that the world seemed more excited about his Birthday than the Number Two hero was himself?
Heaving a sigh as he stopped the incessant blaring of his phone alarm before wincing through tired, narrowed eyes at the bright light of his phone. The screen completely covered in well wishes that seemed to have started when the clock struck twelve. A few trying to coax him out after work for drinks and to celebrate, those he swiftly ignored. It wasn’t until he scrolled down to a message from Mina practically threatening him to go out that he groaned low and deep in his chest; how was it that his friends were trying to dictate how he spent his birthday every damn year? He’d be happy with a bowl of noodles from his favourite hole in the wall and maybe a slice of cake from the quaint bakery he liked to frequent on Sundays. Now he was going to have to stay up late, and probably carry an inebriated Kirishima home.
By the time he’d made it into the office, Bakugou had put his phone onto do not disturb. Sick of the constant stream of messages that didn’t seem to dissipate. Another thing to add to the list of things that irked him about his special day— and he hadn’t even received the call from his Mother yet. Less of a call to send him well wishes, and more an excuse to remind him that he’s another year older and still painfully single and she’s still without a grandchild. Running a palm down the length of his face as he stepped into the elevator to take it up to his floor.
“Good morning, Dynamight,” You smiled from your desk as he walked past, “And happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” He rasped gruffly in response, it was the first time he’d used his voice all morning.
“I left you a coffee on your desk.”
God, you really were the best part about his day.
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You were apprehensive when Bakugou walked by with a heavy set frown across is brow. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grumpy this early in the day, the Pro was definitely not a morning person— but he seemed even more annoyed today. And you were positive the influx of gifts that waited for him by the copier would only serve to irritate him more. Especially when a US limited edition All Might figure he’d ordered from overseas as a gift to himself had still not been delivered. Grimacing when you’d checked the tracking when you woke up this morning and noticed it sat in an airport postal office on the outskirts of Kawasaki; you knew he wouldn’t be happy.
And that’s why you were even more nervous for him to see the gift you’d left sitting on his desk. A gift that definitely couldn’t compare from the small fortune he’d spent on himself.
It was difficult thinking about the perfect gift to get a man that could buy himself anything he wanted, even more difficult when the man happened to be your boss. Any time you looked through shop windows at the various fragrances, gift sets and jewellery everything felt too ostentatious, too intimate. Putting down a garish tie that you wondered why you’d even thought about buying, and settling on a single purchase of an All Might themed birthday card you were certain was for children as you decided to make him something instead.
“What the fuck is this?” You heard Bakugou shout from his office and you felt your heart rattle against your ribcage.
Standing from your desk to open the parted door to see him standing in front of your gift. The All Might card already open and displayed on top of his desk as his attention now sat on the open white box that he’d unwrapped.
“It’s uh— a cake.” You smiled softly.
Bakugou raised a brow at your answer as he directed his gaze back to the cake that sat on top of his desk. Three tiers of soft sponge covered in a vibrant orange icing, with black lines decorating it to replicate the crosses that sat against his chest on his hero costume. You’d never claimed to be a baker, the cake nothing like the one you could’ve probably picked up from Bakugou’s favourite bakery. You knew the exact cakes he enjoyed too, but when googling recipes none seemed to be close to your level or expertise.
And what made it worse is the dessert had not travelled well on your morning commute. Holding tightly onto the box while you contended with the Musutafu rush hour had meant that the tiers had now begun to slide out of place as the cake sat leaning inside its box, now looking rather pathetic.
“A cake?” He repeated, his eyes glancing back down at the vanilla sponge that had a messy attempt of ‘Happy Birthday Dynamight’ scrawled across the top. The piping bag had not been kind to you when you attempted the design, wishing the text looked more like your handwriting and less like you’d baked with a four year old. Which was probably what your boss was thinking right now as he stared down at the sweet treat.
“I’m sorry,” You felt your cheeks burn, “I thought it would be a nice idea—”
“Did you make it yourself?” Bakugou asked, although it was clear that you had. Any shop that would dare to even attempt to sell a monstrosity like this should be shut down.
“Well, yeah,” You hovered in place, “I tried to follow the recipe, and I thought it was going well, but I think I put too much buttercream on, and I’m not very good at piping—”
You found yourself rambling, and it just made you feel worse. Reaching over to flip the cardboard lid back over it to take it away and shield yourself from any further embarrassment.
“Are you not going to have some with me?” Bakugou stopped you from closing the lid completely, his crimson eyes full of sincerity.
“Cake for breakfast? It’s not even nine am—”
“So?” He scoffed, “It’s my birthday. If I can’t have cake for breakfast today then what’s the fuckin’ point? Unless you’re trying to kill me—”
“No!” You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, “Does it really look that bad?”
You looked down at the sad, pathetic excuse of a cake. Hard to see all the time, energy and love that went into it when it drooped so pitifully.
“It looks like shit.” He smirked.
“I should’ve just bought one,” You sighed, remembering how pretty all the cakes had been on the online websites you were going to order from before you had the brilliant idea to bake one yourself. Hell, even the cute little cupcakes in the coffee shop you went to each morning looked better than this.
“Nah,” Bakugou shook his head, “It’s perfect.”
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It was noon by the time Bakugou had decided to pick the phone up to answer one of his mothers numerous calls to him, eyeing the voicemails that she’d left which no doubt chastised him for not picking the phone up. He’d delete those later.
“Katsuki—” Her voice already had him closing his eyes and rubbing his temple as he settled back in his desk chair. Still better than paperwork— “How hard is it for a mother to wish her son a happy birthday. Don’t you forget that I’m the one who birthed you—”
“Yeah, yeah, Ma. I’m sorry,” He sighed, “Work’s been kickin’ my ass.”
“You shouldn’t be working on your birthday, anyway!” She continued, “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”
“I’ve got too much to do.” He didn’t. The paperwork could wait, and he didn’t have a patrol scheduled this week. His sidekicks eager to find their own positions in the hero rankings so they’d picked up all the available slots, leaving Bakugou in his office.
“All you ever do is work anymore, Katsuki.” She continued, “When are you coming to visit? Your father says he hasn’t heard from you in weeks.”
“I’ll come by soon.” Maybe. He thought.
“You should be spending less time working and more time settling down. You’re not a young man anymore, Katsuki.” Here it comes, “And I want grandchildren while I can still chase after them!”
He scoffed. Even when he was a child Mitsuki still hadn’t been able to catch up with him, but the thought of her running around after his kids had an unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest.
“It must be lonely, son,” She continued, and for once he stopped to think about it.
“There is someone, Ma—” Bakugou smiled as his eyes looked towards the half eaten cake that sat on the edge of his desk.
If he could ever tell you.
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watchmegetobsessed · 9 months
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ILLICIT TEMPTATION
A/N: italyrry is back in action and so am i.
WORD COUNT: 1.8k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: A business trip to Italy brings more than just professional success. One hot afternoon, deliciously cold water and a series of unfortunate events bring out the illicit temptation you both have been fighting.
PART II. TO ILLICIT THOUGHTS
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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Harry Styles will take any opportunity to travel to Italy. Vacation, just a layover, family gathering, he is always open to visit the country he almost considers his second home.
This time, he is on an active quest to expand his business, he’s been negotiating with some possible Italian partners for months now and they seem to be heading towards the finish line. To officiate the deal Harry has headed over to Bolsena, a wonderful town that resides on the coast of Lago di Bolsena, a lake of volcanic origin. And though he usually travels alone when it comes to business, this time he is accompanied by you.
The trip is set to last four days, most of it spent with the Trevisani brothers who are looking forward to do business with Harry in the future. The first two days have been hectic, brunch with Fabio and Vittore, meetings, lunch at some luxury restaurant’s terrace, even more meetings, then business dinner and it all started again the next day.
But today is finally the first day you get to have some free time. Though the first half of the day was still filled with business, now it’s after lunch time and you finally get to go to the beach you’ve been eyeing from your hotel room’s balcony since you’ve arrived.
You agreed with Harry to meet down there, because he had to take a quick call, so you’re the first one to reach the sandy beach with your beach towel under your arm and the bikini you bought especially for this trip under your sundress. In your left there’s a rockier section and it appears to be less crowded so you opt to occupy a spot there. You put down your towel and then take off your dress, enjoying the warm breeze on your skin as you get rid of your slippers and head over to the water.
It’s so refreshing, your muscles relax the moment you sink into the water so it’s up to your chin and then you dip under the surface fully. You wish you could just float around here for the rest of the trip.
A few feet away from where you left your things there’s a rock that reaches over the water, like a natural jumping board. A group of teenagers are jumping into the water, doing flips in the air, the glistening water splashing everywhere once they fall into the lake.
You’re not that big of an adrenaline junkie, but it seems like a lot of fun, so you decide to give it a try and go for a jump. Swimming over you get out of the water and follow their route over a rocky part to arrive to the jumping spot. For a while, you stop at the back, just watching them jump in one after the other before moving closer to the edge, but there’s still enough place that they can keep jumping in while you stand there, collecting your courage.
Right before you’re about to finally take the leap you look around, as if your sixth sense had been activated and when you glance over to your towel you spot Harry.
And it all goes downhill from there.
Harry looks mouthwateringly good on an average day in the office when his body is covered from neck to toe. It’s hard even then to keep your thoughts at check, but what you’re seeing right now can only be described as a violent act against females.
Add the salty air of Italy to the equation, a slight, delicious tan over his inked body that’s usually covered by his designer clothes, a chunky, luxurious pair of sunglasses and… the absolute shortest swimming trunks you’ve ever laid your eyes on, but it’s so low on his hips as he is adjusting the waistband that his V-line could be seen from even across the lake, it’s so delicious, any sane woman would lose their mind over it, then there are those chiseled abs, his bulging pecks and the unruly curls on top of his head…
It makes you lose more than just your mind. Literally.
Because when Harry looks up and he smiles your way you lose your balance and fall right into the water in a way that’s most likely anything but gracious or sexy.
The water closes above you and there’s a moment of shock, but you recover quickly, swimming upwards until your head is above the surface again.
“Fuck,” you cough, kicking underneath the water to keep you floating and you squint your eyes before opening them, but maybe you should have just kept them closed, because the next thing you see is Harry swimming towards you.
“Hey, you alright?” he reaches you and you feel his hand wrap around your upper arm to help you keep you up and his touch sends a wave of shock down your spine instantly.
“Y-yeah,” you breathe out and then you make another mistake.
It’s hard to keep yourself floating when your heart is hammering in your chest and your nervous system is all messed up from the sight you just saw moments ago. Your hands move before you could even think twice and you find yourself holding onto his broad shoulders.
The feeling of his soft, warm skin under your touch and the hard muscles underneath waves goodbye to the last bit of your sanity.
“S-sorry,” you gasp, pulling your hands back fast, but it makes you dip under the water again, so Harry reaches for you and pulls you up, curling an arm around your waist and your body goes into full shock when you feel yourself pushed up against you in the cold water, your hands coming to rest on the base of his neck as he keeps you both up.
“Please don’t drown on a business trip, that wouldn’t look too good,” he jokes and you manage to get a laugh out, but it sounds suffocated, because it feels impossible to fill your lungs when your smoking hot boss’ body is melted against yours in the water.
“Okay,” you breathe out, looking into his eyes that are covered by his sunglasses, so you can’t tell where he is looking.
That’s his luck. Because right in this moment, Harry can’t decide if he wants to stare at your wet lips, your tits pressed against his chest or your widened eyes, framed with long eyelashes glued together because of the water dripping from them.
So his gaze keeps moving between these three things behind the cover of his shades.
“Let’s move to a more shallow part,” he suggests, but he has ulterior motives.
It’s not that he wants to let go of you, hell no! He would do anything to keep you pressed up against him for hours and he even thinks about having your legs wrapped around his waist and that’s exactly that causes the problem, because he can feel himself getting hard and the last thing he needs is for you to discover his erection.
You nod and let go of him, putting some safe distance between the two of you and Harry lets you swim ahead towards the shore. He is raking his head for anything that could help him regain control over his rather hard situation. Slowly, but he finally succeeds and he can feel himself calming down just as you reach a more shallow part. You both stand and emerge from the water and Harry catches a glimpse of your bikini clad body, the crystal clear water is dripping from your curves and in a split second, he is hardening again.
He is just about to drop back into the water to hide his erection when you step on a rock and lose your balance, falling backwards, straight into Harry’s arm.
You gasp as his arms lock around your waist, keeping you from falling into the water ant potentially hurting yourself, but this also means that your ass is now pressed against his crotch… which means that his hard cock is now wedged comfortable between your ass cheeks.
For a moment Harry is sure whoever is up above, they are playing a cruel game with him. Because seeing you in a bikini was already a burning temptation, then having you in his arms in the water and those illicit thoughts invading his mind about how it would feel to have your legs around his waist was pure torture, but this… this is something he will surely think about in the evening when he’s alone in his hotel room, his hand wrapped around his leaking cock…
He considers the chances of you not realizing his dick is pressed against your ass, but judging from the way your body has stiffened, there’s no way you didn’t notice.
You definitely did. You feel every inch of him, you feel how thick and rock hard he is and you think about how it would feel like if he was inside you right now.
Harry clears his throat behind you, his arms still around your waist.
“Are you alright?” he asks and his mouth is right next to your ear, his hot breath is tickling your neck and goosebumps cover your skin from head to toe.
Your voice is gone, all you can do is nod, but you’re still not moving.
“Y/N?” he speaks up again.
“Yeah?”
“I’m gonna let you go now.”
And let’s not talk about how my cock just sat between your ask cheeks for a whole minute, he adds mentally.
You nod and put your weight back onto your feet as you pull away from Harry, his arms fall from around you and he moves back quickly a few feet so the water reaches above his hip, covering the bulge in his shorts.
“I-I think I’m gonna… head back to my room,” you stutter, only daring to look at him for a split second.
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna take a nap,” you add and Harry nods.
“See you before dinner. Fabio wants to take us out for drinks after,” he reminds you.
“Great. S-see you later,” you clear your throat and rush out of the water as fast as you can without tripping again.
You gather your stuff and head to the stairs that lead up to the hotel, but allow yourself one last glance back. In the water, you spot Harry swimming further in the lake and the feeling of his erection pressed up against you invades your mind again, making you run up the stairs, taking two steps at once and you don’t stop until you’re locked up in your hotel room. Your bikini is still dripping wet, but between your legs it’s not just because of the swimming.
You strip and then stand under the massive walk-in shower, cold water running down you as you lean against the tiled wall, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened, but it’s impossible and the next thing you know is that you have two fingers buried inside your pussy and you’re chanting Harry’s name as you chase your release.
Fuck, you think when you’ve come, tonight will be your personal Hell.
READ PART III. NOW: ILLICIT ACTS
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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d0youc0py · 11 months
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Can I you do the 141+Konig (or whoever you’d like) realizing that reader feels safe with them?
Love your work!!!!
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To outside eyes it was something so simple- but to him it was the highest form of a compliment.
The group was sprawled out all over the living room preparing for the weekly movie night and somewhere between Gaz and Soap arguing who’s turn it was to pick the movie- you had fallen asleep.
Not just that- you had fallen asleep on him. His arm had been draped over the back of the couch and when you could no longer fight back sleep, his side was the perfect pillow. He knew you probably didn’t mean too, but just the fact your bodies natural instinct was to fall in his direction was enough to send a warm buzz through his body.
Sleep had always been a touchy subject for Ghost and Simon. He was lucky if he slept more than four hours a night. Being a light sleeper and falling victim of night terrors made nighttime his least favorite time. He disliked the vulnerability of it.
So the fact that you trusted him in your most vulnerable state was rather precious.
And a mission he wouldn’t take lightly.
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Your skin had been crawling for the last fifteen minutes. You’d hope that by ignoring his unspoken advancements he would take a hint, but you were wrong. You peaked at him from the corner of your eyes. He wasn’t unattractive. He had nice features- chiseled but still approachable. Yet something about him just twisted your stomach. Maybe it was the way his eyes were glued to your ass.
Could you handle it yourself- absolutely. Did you feel like having to prove yourself in a bar full of people that you could take care of it yourself- not really. Especially not when you had a Big Bad Captain who could handle it with just a glare. You quickly excused yourself from the rest of the 141, heading over to where Captain Price and Laswell were gossiping.
“Sorry if this is confidential, but a guy over there is giving me the creeps.” You explained.
“The one in the blue jacket?” Price smirked. You went wide eyed and nodded your head wondering how he knew. “Been eyeing you since we walked in. I’ve been keeping an eye on him.” He held out his arm for you and you quickly linked arms with him. The simple action was enough to cause the man to sneer and grumble something to himself. You shot Price a smile and he shot you back a wink.
“That’s why I come to you when I’m scared.” You complimented. You didn’t know it but that comment was the ego boost of a lifetime for him.
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Your vision was starting to turn foggy. Buildings became less sharp, people became blurry figures and the ground was looking mighty comfortable. You hands gripped your abdomen the other pressed against the wall.
Your eyes scanned the area, hoping to come across a familiar mohawk. You thought the best route would be to follow the sound of explosions, but that was just bringing you closer to the action.
“Y/N?!” Johnny boomed from behind you. You sighed in relief your back hitting the wall. He caught you before you could sink down completely. “Steamin Jesus.” He grumbled. He worked quick, tearing off a piece of his sleeve and holding it tightly against you wound. He called for an evac. “Why didn’t you call for help?” He scolded. You rested your forehead against his.
“I wanted you.” You mumbled. His hardened face softened- a smile almost ghosting his features. You were sure if you weren’t bleeding out he would’ve made some snarky comment, but neither of you had the energy.
“I’ve got you.” He whispered, letting you rest against him.
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You don’t know why you agreed to this. Well technically you all voted and you lost but you probably could’ve put up a bigger fight. You hated horror movies. You’d think they wouldn’t bother you given your line of work but you were wrong. You had your sweater pulled up to your forehead trying to block out the urge to take a peak at the TV.
You eventually caved and peaked just in time for a jump scare. You heard a stifled chuckle come from the couch across from you. Kyle was biting back a smile, mouthing a ‘you good.’ You nodded feeling determined to not let the movie get the best of you. That plan was sort lived as a scene so brutal even Ghost had to look away, crossed the screen.
“Don’t be babies!” Soap yelled. You had had enough. While the others were engrossed in the movie you quietly crept over to Kyle’s side of the couch.
“Can I sit with you?” You mumbled. He quickly nodded his head expecting you to sit near him- not press yourself against his side. He chuckled softly, removing his arm from the back of the couch resting it around you.
“You know, performing an exorcism has always been on my bucket list. You’d be in good hands.” He’s always so cheeky.
“Not nice.” You grumbled, sending him a glare. He put his feet up on the coffee table and relaxed against the couch. The calmness in his body started to spread to yours, and pretty soon you had fallen asleep. He was absolutely going to tease you about this later- but for now he was enjoying the prideful bubble in his chest. You had chosen him.
Price tried to take a picture of you two but his flash went off causing everyone to scream.
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“Colonel.” You hummed, knocking at the door. His eyes shot it away from his IPad trying to adjust to the darkness of the room.
“What’s wrong?” He questioned, beginning to stand up. You shook your hands.
“Nothing.” You lied. You had a nightmare. One so bad your body was still trembling.
“It’s three in the morning. What’s wrong?” He pressed. He stood up, cracking his back. His eyes had finally adjusted enough to see your tear stained face and shaking shoulders. Suddenly he realized. He had woken up enough times like that himself. He walked around his desk and grabbed a spare blanket from underneath the couch. “Come here.”
You did as you were told, smiling softly as he wrapped the fluffy blanket around your body. “You can sleep in here. I have to pull an all-nighter anyways.” He grumbled that last part to himself.
“I won’t bother you?”
“No.” He assured, grabbing a pillow from under the couch. “You’re not the only one who could benefit from some company right now.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You snuggled into the couch and he trudged back over to his desk.
“Thanks Konig.” You mumbled before you finally fell back asleep. He took a moment to stare at your sleeping form. There had been many times he wished someone was there for him in moments of weakness. He was honored you had chosen him to be that person for you.
Thank you for your kind words!
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geeneelee · 9 months
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Judit’s Backstory, or: Why She Supports Harry
This is a post I’ve been meaning to write for a while, especially since it’s apparently not common knowledge in the fandom, but Judit has a developed backstory with Harry that can only be put together through reading one of the case files (so perhaps it’s not that surprising that people don’t know).
We start with Joseph Mills: an idiot and a terrible person.
No, he was awful. Awful sense of humour too. The worst jokes you've ever heard. Really rapey.
Harry can find out about him from reading MURDER IN THE HOOKAH PARLOR from his case files. Long story short, Mills mistook an accidental death for a murder and wasted months on it, only for Harry to identify it as a dumb accident in less than a minute.
What’s more relevant to the present-day is this:
Beaten to death by a throng of Villalobos gang-members when him and his partner J. M. (only initials mentioned) answered a call one night. It's a sad story and it isn't really represented in *your* case files. Stop stalling and get to the MURDER AT THE HOOKAH PARLOUR.
Judit’s partner was beaten to death by gangsters, presumably while she watched. Technically, J.M. could be anyone, but basic narrative rules + a few other hints make me certain that it’s Judit. Most importantly, what she says about Harry after his disastrous call to the Precinct.
"We must help him." Minot looks down at her neatly polished black shoes. There is a quiet firmness to her voice when she speaks. 
"I just know we can't give up on him when he's at his weakest. He wouldn't..." The crowd in the room has started fidgeting uncomfortably. Someone's trying to slip out unnoticed.
I’m presuming here that what she’s going to say is “He wouldn’t give up on one of us”. (Side note: judging by the reactions of everyone else, they agree. Pre-canon Harry had his good moments and his bad with the squad).
Judit might be speaking from experience - we know that she’s only been with C-Wing for two months, but why did she transfer? Given how C-wing has been hemorrhaging members, it seems odd. If she was speaking from experience, then the most likely answer is that Harry helped her out after Mills’ death (first on the scene? Provided support? who knows) and Judit, who was now without a partner, decided to follow him to C-wing.
Between her gratitude to Harry and (probably) low standards for coworkers, she’s willing to give him the benefit of the doubt more than anyone else who knows him, although depending on your actions you can burn through the good will - calling her the Horse-Faced Woman and asking if you’ve had sex will make her cold towards you.
She’s also aware of Harry’s drinking problem, but has more hope than Jean does - Jean will shoot down any hint that Harry’s changed, but if he’s stayed sober, Judit will hold onto hope that it’ll stick this time
You haven't been drinking, she thinks. So maybe this time...
(Perhaps it’s just because she’s known him for the least amount of time, but it’s still more hope than anyone else in his unit has for Harry).
It’s easy to miss Judit’s implied past with Harry, and assume her patience is naivety or because she’s a mom (which might be the case in a story written by lesser writers) but it’s something more complex than that, and a tiny hint at the better side of pre-canon Harry.
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hyuckkaiji · 7 months
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my love - ominis gaunt x f!reader
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summary; pt.2 to only mine. Ominis has loved you since the moment he met you. He found the universe cruel to give him such a love yet allow you to love his best friend. But now you're his, and he can never let you go. Not after all he did to get you in the first place. Ominis!pov up until the actual smut then it's kinda dual!pov pt.3: ominis , pt.3 sebastian
word count; 5.1k
warnings; 18+, explicit sexual content, dark themes, dubcon, porn with a plot, dark!ominis, sub/dom dynamics, mentions of cheating/infidelity, manipulation, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, If I'm gonna be real with y'all ... yandere!ominis
note; in love with this man, need him to treat me like this. idc if he locks me up in his basement as long as I'm with him. maybe went a lil overboard. Second ever smut 🥴🫶 also ik I didn't specify but the spell he used locked her in the house so she couldn't run away 🤪
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The memory of meeting you is ingrained in Ominis' mind, every part of you is. The sound of your laugh, the smell of your hair, the feel of your skin against his. You are undoubtedly irrefutably the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth. He's known that since he was fifteen.
But you didn't love him back, much to his dismay. Although he could understand it. Who would love him? Not even his own family did. No, he didn't fault you for not loving him. He faulted you for loving Sebastian Sallow.
He would tell himself he understood, of course he understood. He loved Sebastian too, Sebastian was one of only three people he had ever loved. He understood it, he did not blame you, he understood it, he did, he swore he did. But he didn't, not really, and as time went on, his lack of understanding only furthered.
And he began to blame you, such an intelligent witch, and yet you continued to be fool when it came to Sebastian. You watched him make all the wrong decisions, for merlin's sake, aided him in those decisions. You not only stood by but stood with Sebastian as he delved deeper and deeper into the dark arts, all in hopes of saving Anne.
Constantly defending his decline into utter insanity, "If it were my sister..." But you didn't have siblings, Ominis did, and he would never do what Sebastian was doing. It wasn't right. When would you stop being such a fool? He told you and told you and told you some more how bad the dark arts truly are. But you always did favor ignoring his warnings.
Did you just not care about what he had to say? No, you cared, you told him you cared, and he knew you spoke truly, but you cared about Sebastian's happiness more. Even when he couldn't take it, even when he begged you to speak some sense into Sebastian, you defended your lover. "Would you not use the unforgivables to save a loved one?" For you he may, but he had pushed that thought away, doubling down, telling you under no circumstances would he ever.
His last straw was the killing curse, the bloody killing curse. There was no coming back from that. He could no longer stand by his friend, his brother, really. The only family he had, he couldn't stand by Sebastian when he wouldn't even stand by his own blood for using such heinous magic. He had expected you to side with him. You weren't that much of a fool. His heart broke when you didn't, Sebastian it was always Sebastian. You begged him not to tell, Sebastian had good reason for his actions. No one need know what he did.
According to you, Sebastian always had good reason, and you begged so prettily, the word please sounded so right coming from your lips. Until he remembered why you were saying, "please," why you were begging. But he agreed none the less, agreed to keep Sebastian's secret. But that was a lie, a lie he swore to take to his grave. Sebastian had gone too far.
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Ominis hadn't slept. In fact, he was on his fourth cup of coffee. Tea, tea, you had told him, with some of the other ladies, wives, of Feldcroft. But tea does not take all night. He had opened up a book when you left, opting to read until your return.
He had wanted to beg you to stay in with him, wanted to let his hands roam your bare skin, wanted to drop to his knees, and hike your leg over his shoulders then and there. But he is a gentleman. So he decided to wait until you got back home to satiate his desires, you wouldn't be long and he's not an animal, he could wait.
Waited he did, waited until the book began to bore him. Waited until the moon hid away, waited until the vibrant colors of dawn began to paint the sky. You were like this sometimes. He had learned to work around it. So, like the good husband he is, he waited. Other men would have demanded you stayed. Other men would have gone out and dragged you back home, beat you bloody perhaps. But he isn't like that he loves you and he'll work around your moods. You always come back to him any how.
He knows it's just one of your moods or moments as he calls them. Those times where you think you want to leave him, where you think you'd be able to. But you know and he knows, he's all you have and you'll come back. He'll wait until you feel better, but he'll not sleep without by his side.
So there he sat, swirling a fourth cup of coffee, with just a hint of milk and sugar. He didn't like it too sweet. The sun not yet fully in the sky when he hears you shuffling your way to the front door. Perhaps you thought he'd still be asleep. He did enjoy extra time in bed on his days off. Perhaps you thought you could climb into bed with him and pretend you hadn't been out contemplating running away, again.
You did that semi-often. He would pretend to be asleep, he would pretend not to notice you'd walked your night away, lost in that pretty head of yours. But he knew, he knows everything about you. It doesn't bother him the way you feel, not really. He would love it if you loved him back. Hell, he'd be over the moon about it, but it's not important. You can hate him, he doesn't really care, as long as you're his, your feelings don't really matter.
As long as you sleep by his side at night, as long as you have breakfast with him every morning, as long as you welcome him home with false kisses in the evenings, as long as you quiver when his cock enters you, he's perfectly happy letting you have your little day dreams about leaving.
Something about tonight had felt different, though. He had felt off. It was not long before dawn when he let his worries get the best of him, the sky more dark than light when he cast his spell. His intuition was right, it always was.
Sebastian Sallow was in Feldcroft. Ominis should have been more diligent with his wards, he knew he had been getting slack. It had been so many years now, he thought surely Sebastian would have moved on by now. But no, he supposes, had roles been reversed, he would not have moved on either. It's his own fault, he should have never slacked on his wards. He would need to remedy his mistake.
Perhaps you hadn't run into Sebastian, perhaps it had just been a normal walk for you. No, Ominis knows Sebastian, even after all these years, he knows him. He found his way to you, his perfect little wife. Gods help him if he has touched you in any way.
How to deal with this dilemma? Oblivate maybe. No he doesn't feel right casting such a spell on you, a good husband would never. He needs more information before-
"Husband." Merlin, how he loves hearing you say that. Yes, yes, he is your husband, you needn't ever speak his name again. Only call him husband, stake your claim on him, call him yours. Yes, your husband. Your good husband, your sweet husband.
"Wife." His voice is calm, he looks over in your direction. Wand in one hand, coffee in the other. "You did not sleep, darling." A statement. "You did not come home, I couldn't sleep without you." True.
"I-I-" You didn't continue, letting the awkward silence settle, thick and heavy. "Come sit, my love, I was worried when you did not come home, but as you said, this is Feldcroft, so I did not necessarily worry for your safety." A lie, normally true, but tonight had been different, "Do not take that the wrong way. I always worry for your safety, I only meant-"
"I know what you meant, husband." You tossed your coat over an armchair before sitting next to Ominis. He set his wand and coffee to the side on a small table, uncrossing his legs, patting his lap for you to rest your head. A common gesture, he enjoys the way your hair feels like woven silk between his fingers. You obeyed, such a good wife, his wife.
You wiggled a bit before finding a comfortable spot on his lap. He was still in the same outfit. Though he was only in his dark blue trousers and his white button-down shirt. "Where were you?" His fingers started their routine, your hair was knotted, more than usual. His fingers gently worked out the knots regardless.
"Walking, I'm sorry, I should have come home. Should have come back to you." Liar, his fingers twitched, wanting to grab you by your hair and force you to speak the truth. He knows where you were. He always knows where you are. Just as he always knows where Sebastian is.
It was one of his main reasons for becoming an auror. Of course, he enjoyed his job and enjoyed taking down dark wizards, scum of the earth. But his main reason was to keep Sebastian away from you, to keep you all to himself. You, you have been his reason for everything, his reason for living. His need for you is insatiable.
Before he met you, had Sebastian went down this dark path he might have mourned his friend, would have left his life but never betrayed him, never turned him in. But after you, you his sweet wife, his one true love. You're the reason Sebastian is on the run, this is really all your fault. If only you had loved him to begin with, he would have never needed to get rid of Sebastian.
Never needed to do all that he has done, for you, he did it all for you. Do not misunderstand, he regrets nothing but still it must be acknowledged, he is no betrayer by nature, he is only what you have made him.
"Speak the truth, y/n." He has no tolerance for liars, your falsities he could deal with but blatant lies, he could not. You shot up from his lap, moving to look in his face. Though his eyes could not see the worry etched into your features, he could feel it radiating off of you.
"Ominis." He perfers when you call him husband, but his name has never not sounded heavenly on your lips. "I speak the truth. Why do you accuse me otherwise?" Do you think him a fool? Blatant lies, by the gods, he never took you for a liar, yet here you are. He is a fool. He stands quickly, grabbing his wand.
"Ominis." You sound afraid, your voice coming out in a slight whimper. You've never sounded afraid of him before, something about it sends a jolt to his cock. You should sound afraid. He is a powerful wizard, after all, one of the most renowned aurors of your time. Him and his partner are responsible for putting almost half of the new prisoners in Azkaban, several he managed to capture on his own.
You should be afraid of him, you should respect him, you should love him. After all this fucking time and everything he has done for you, given for you, why don't you love him? Why is it still Sebastian. You would rather live a life on the run, a life of a criminal, than be with him?
He casts the spell while you still cower before him, one of his own creation. One, powerful witch you are, even you could not take down. "What...what was that?" Still whimpering, he'll give you a reason to whimper, a reason to beg.
Too long he has been the gentleman, the good auror, the perfect husband. Clearly, you crave something different than what he's been providing. "A spell."
"Cleary." You snap, fear gone, back again is his angry little wife. He loves you, anger and all, but dear, this not the time. His hand connects with your cheek, the sound of the slap vibrating in the silent house. He can smell the tinge of blood in the air, he must have broken your lip. He does not know his own strength, he should not have struck you so hard. No, you deserved this, he needs to teach you a lesson. He grips your face harshly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He knows it's bothers you, makes you squirm to look a blind man in the eyes.
"You will not speak to me like that again. Unless you enjoy being struck?" You did not respond, at a loss for words he supposed. He's never been harsh with you, never even raised his voice at you. He can be a cruel man, truthfully he is a cruel man, just never to you. It's a side of him he has made sure you were never subject to.
He leaned down, until your noses were almost touching. He could feel your eyes scan his face, hear your short rapid breathes. Fear or anger? He wished you would speak. "Do you understand, wife?" He could barley hear you and he has superior hearing to most men, "yes."
"Yes, what?" He did not know what he wanted more, for you to anwser correctly or incorrectly so he could strike you again. Feeling you tremble beneath him, it was exhilarating. You need to understand how good you have it, need to understand all the leniency he gives you is a courtesy, one he will rescind unless you learn to behave like a proper wife, the wife he deserves.
"Yes husband." Such a good girl, his good little wife. He should be kind, he wants to be kind to you. But making you bleed, making you afraid has awoken some animal instinct in him, unchecked need.
He tilts his head letting his tongue dart out to swipe away the blood building at your lip, letting the metallic taste settle in his mouth. A part of you he is only tasting for the first time, a taste he wants more of. But he pulls back, he needs to control himself at least some what, at least until you beg him to continue.
He crouches before you, his hands against your knees, face tilted up towards yours. "My love, I know where you were." You shake your head, "I was walking, I just needed to breathe, needed to be away from the house for some time. I-" You let out a choked sob, fighting back your tears, he wants to comfort you, he hates when you cry, "I just wanted some time alone, sometime to feel like my own person. Not just Ominis Gaunt's wife."
His wife, his wife, his wife. Those words made his cock twitch, not the time. He stood and struck you again, this time you cried out, this time you brought your hands up to shield your face from another blow. His hand snaked into your hair, wrapping the loose strands in a fist, yanking your head back painfully.
"Speak the truth woman, unless you wish for me to forcefully extract the information." He was a master at such tactics, an empty threat when it came to you. He would never harm you in such a way, but you needed to believe he would.
"Ominis." Tears streamed down your face as you pleaded, but the way you said his name didn't have the intended affect on him. "Truth." Was his only response.
"I was with..." A hiccup, a sob, "Sebastian." The truth. Ominis released his harsh hold on you. Taking a seat next to you, pulling you into his chest, gentle hands stroking your head, rubbing your back as you continue to cry. "There, there my love. All I needed was the truth, if you had only been truthful to begin with." That only made you sob harder, but you did not pull away, instead burying your face deeper, holding his shirt tightly in balled fists.
When you finally calmed down, the only remnants of your break down being dried tear streaks and the occasional hiccup, Ominis held your face in his hands running a thumb over your busted lip softly. "I did not mean to hit you so hard, my love. I apologize."
"I-I can forgive you husband. Can you forgive me?" Did you mean it? Do you regret the night you spent with that fugitive? It doesn't matter, as long as you're in his arms, his wife, his love. "Tell me why you did it? Why you are not happy with me?" You face snaps to his, shocked at his words.
You stutter, unable to form a reply. "Yes, I know, I've always known. I just," He paused, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, "hoped you would learn to eventually." A shiver runs down your spine.
What made you do it, he isn't sure, but you lean in, closing the distance, locking your lips in a frenzied kiss, hands coming up to bury in his sleek blonde hair. Guilt? Best just to enjoy the moment. He kissing you back just as hurriedly, hands tearing your clothes off in a manor of disregard he has never shown before. Slow and loving has always been his way .
In a matter of moments both of you are naked, your kiss a mess of teeth and tongues, hands gripping hair and nails raking across bare skin.
His teeth bury into your neck, sucking and biting an angry red mark into your skin. You moan in response, using his shoulders to steady yourself, nailing digging into his pale flesh. "You're mine, my wife." His mouth is back on yours before you can respond.
This feeling is new for you, this way that Ominis is treating you. But you can't help the spark you feel, the tingles making their way through your body. You rub your thighs together to ease some of the friction, to feel some sort of sensation where you need it most. Where you need him, your husband, Ominis.
He slowed down, feeling you shift around, kissing soft chaste kisses, his normal kisses, into your skin. "Are you feeling needy, my love? Tell me what you wish." You always come first, "Your mouth, fuck, please Ominis."
Normally he would, as soon as the words "your mouth" left your lips he'd be down on his knees lapping away at your juices, swirling his tongue around your clit just the way he knows you like, the way that makes you come undone and shake beneath him. This is not a normal day.
He forces you down on your knees, your face aligned almost perfectly with his waiting leaking cock. "Ominis?" You're confused. He looking down, looking into your soul again, it's sends a shiver down your spine. But it's different this time not kind, not loving, but angry, hungry, a beast in a man's skin.
"I always give you what you want, I do my best to make you happy, I fuck you the way you want to be fucked. And still you have the gall to shut your eyes and imagine Sebastian while it's my cock you come undone on." His hand is in your hair, firm but not painful, "No more love, you're going to start being a good wife to me. You're going to listen and you're going to learn."
For the first time you want to, you stare up at Ominis' face, taking in every minute detail, the way his hair clings to his damp skin, mapping out the moles the scatter across his body, the ridged muscles he gained from years in the field as well as the scars he's got in battles, you've never cared to notice all this before. But right now I this moment, you can't deny, he's beautiful.
"Lesson one," He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your waiting lips, "use that pretty mouth of your for something other that talking back to me."
"How do you know my mouth is pretty when you can't even see it?" He sneers at you, holding your hair a little tighter and it sends a wave down to your core. With his other hand he grabs his cock directing it down to press again you're lips.
In the four years you've been married to him, you've never done this. Sex has never been about his pleasure, only yours. Time and time again he had delved between you legs until you came apart on his tongue, yet he never asks for anything in return. You're not quite sure what to do, not sure you want to, not sure you could make him feel good if you did.
He taps your lips once more, "Open." His voice is gruff, he looks like he's barely restraining himself. You open hesitantly, but he's pushing his way in before your ready. You moan around him in protest, hands shooting up to push against his thighs, to no avail.
He's using his grip on your hair to make you bob around him, your tongue wrapping around the underside of his cock almost instinctionally. His head in thrown back, his chest rising and falling in rapid pants. "Fuck, pretty girl, I always knew your mouth would feel like heaven." He's jutting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, making tears well in your eyes as you gag around him.
He keeps at this, holding you in place until he find his release. He lets go of your hair, moving both his hands to hold your face in place as he fucks the last few thrusts roughly into your throat. Your nails claw into his thighs at the assault. He doesn't pull all the way out, forcing you to swallow his load, the salty flavor settling, not nearly as bad as you would have imagined... almost pleasant.
He pulls you up, peppering kisses on your face. "You did so good, my sweet girl, my lovely wife." You don't know what to say but you feel an odd sense of pride, having made him feel so good, having made him come undone as he has you so many times before.
"Do you want me to touch you?" He's nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin. You hum in response, "Please husband." You can feel him smile against you, one hand grips your hips and the other trails up and down your spine.
"Good start, my love. But I know you can beg a little better than that." He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Do you remember how you begged me not to out Sebastian, you almost got down on your knees, you were on the verge of tears, begging me, it was so pretty, you were so pretty. I used to touch myself every night to the way you sounded that day." He chuckles, "Ominis, Ominis, please, I'm begging you Ominis, please. Fuck I can never forget how you sounded." He groans.
"Be a good girl and do it again. Beg me to touch you." Your face flushes, a mixture of anger at him for bringing up that situation, embarrassment at his mockery, plus an overall heat radiating through your body at his confession and demand.
You don't give in at first, you need not be at two men's mercy, allowing two men to abuse your body in such a way. But Ominis' hand shoots out, wrapping around your throat, your breath catches, unable to successfully suck in another. "P-lease." The word is rough and broken. "Atta girl." His grip loosens and you suck in a greedy breath but he doesn't let go all the way, "Go on, love, beg."
"Please husband." Your tone is soft, low, testing the waters. Ominis says nothing. "Please, Ominis..." You debate, will you really lower yourself to this, begging your own husband to have sex with you? But he struck you, forced his cock down your throat without permission and you still stand here, aching to feel his long slender finger burry themselves inside you. You need it and you will grovel to get it.
"Please touch me, please husband, I'm burning up, I feel as though I will combust if you do not touch me soon. I need to feel you inside me, please Ominis." He moans, actually moans at your words alone and without missing a beat his hand is between your legs.
"Fuck." He groans, leaning in to nip at your neck, "You're so wet, pretty girl." He run a finger between your lips, gathering the fuilds with his fingers, bringing it back up to circle your clit. You buck at the contract, electricity coursing through your veins as his slender fingers circle delicately, the pace and pressure teasing.
"Is this what you want, wife?" You grab his hand, trying to force him to put more pressure, how you like it, how he knows you like it, what will make you come undone in a matter of minutes. But he only tsks at you catching your hand with his free one, pulling it away as he continues his teasing ministrations.
"Yes, husband, yes, please" You whine, moving to grip his shoulders for balance. At your surrender, Ominis moves his free hand back to your hips, holding you in place.
"Did you beg Sebastian like this?" He doesn't stop touching you, "Did he make you this wet?" The teasing is becoming too much, you really do feel like you'll combust, "Does he know how to touch you just the way you like?" His fingers adds more pressure, pace quicking and in mere moments you're putty in his arms. Body tensing and convulsing against him as his strength only is the only thing to keep you upright.
His free arm wraps protectively around your waist, his other collects your juices, giving one final swipe over your clit that makes you jump in hypersensitivity. He brings the his wet fingers to your mouth, forcing them in with little resistance. "Do you taste that, pretty girl?" You hum around him.
"I did that to you. Not Sebastian. Me, your husband. This," his arm slides from your waist down to your bottom, grabbing the flesh roughly, "is mine. You are mine." He pulls his fingers free of your mouth with a pop, a thin string of saliva still connecting you two.
Before you can prepare yourself, Ominis' hand is back between your legs, three fingers buried deep inside you, curling at that spongy spot that makes you jump, that spot he always knows how to hit.
"This." Another curl of his slender fingers, "is mine. Only I get to touch this, taste it. Do you understand, wife?" That sensations is building in the pit of your stomach for a second time, it's too much you think, you always stop after the first one, he never pushes you further. You try to shove at his chest, he doesn't budge, but it's more so that your arms are too weak to actually push.
"Who do you belong to, my love?" You're so close, you can feel your resolve snapping like an old rope, string by tedious string. He stopped when you don't respond and you cry out in protest, trying to rock your hips against his still fingers. "Who do you belong to?"
"You, Ominis, I belong to you, my husband, my beloved. Fuck, please, I'm so close, please Om" His pace is punishing and in all of three strokes you feel the coil snap, see white behind your. You hold onto Ominis, trying to ground yourself to this reality as his fingers continue, drawing out your orgasm.
You couldn't stand if you tried, couldn't move a single muscle. But Ominis isn't done with you yet, no, his plan is to break you. You are his, only his, today is the day you finally get that lesson through your thick skull. He picks you up, carrying you in his arms to your shared bed.
He lays you down and you give an appreciative moan, your bed is so soft, familiar and welcoming. It smells like him you realize in your haze, you've never stopped to notice how his scent clings to everything in this house. How his scent gives you a feeling of safety, of home.
Ominis lines himself up with your entrance while you aren't paying attention, half gone nuzzling your face into the comforter. You moan at the intrusion, a mix of pain and pleasure and total oversimulation. You screw your eyes shut, trying to adjust to him inside you.
"Over my dead fucking body." Ominis grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. "Keep your eyes open, I want you to watch me, look at my face as I fuck you. Remember who's cock it is that's inside you." You nod, or you think you did, your body is so heavy, so far out of your control. All that exists is the overwhelming pleasure and Ominis face.
Ominis, you watch as his jaw clenchs, his head falling into your chest before picking back up just so you can see him, his brows scrunch together in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut. His hold on your waist is brusing as his hips jut against yours. Once again your struck by how beautiful he his, how consumed he is by you. You feel that pride again. You make him feel like that, why has it taken you so long to see it.
You reach a hand up, just as his trusts become erratic, your own body falling in sync with his, you pulls his face down just just enough to let your lips meet his in a ghost of a kiss. You finish for the third time this morning just as you feel him shoot his load inside you, he pulls you up holding you tighter against him, burying his face in your chest as he rides out his orgasm.
You rest your head on top of his, running a near limp hand softly through his blonde hair. "I-" the word catches in your throat, "I love you, Ominis."
He pulls away at that, bringing you into a gentle kiss. "I knew you would. I knew it. That's why I had to get rid of Sebastian. My wife, my love, you're mine."
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night-raven-tattler · 4 months
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Say hi to daddy!
Summary: How would these characters behave as fathers? What does their ideal family look like?
Characters: Savanaclaw dorm (Leona, Jack, Ruggie)
Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignyhide, Diasomnia, Royal Sword Academy
Warnings: none
By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.
-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
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The chances of Leona agreeing to having kids is very low: he has a lot of baggage and personal beliefs that would make him not be fully on board
Plus, why would he need another screeching box when Cheka is already around?
But then a bit later in life... something happens and suddenly he has a child in his and his partner's care
Because why would anything ever go the way he wants?
Yet, he grows attached, with the help of his partner
He's the only one who can put the kiddo to sleep, and the only one whose hair the kiddo likes to play with
While his lazy predisposition doesn't allow Leona to go too much out his way for the kid, he's far from an absent father
He is not only present but trying his best to be an example
Because, even if the child ends up seeing him as a bad example, he will be satisfied with the lessons he managed to teach
He loves roughhousing with the kid or challenging their young mind
And when he's too overwhelmed, Cousin Cheka is available for babysitting duty
For Leona, fatherhood becomes a time of finally healing inner wounds while becoming more understanding without being dejected: it's the time when he finally finds an inner balance and find some peace
...he still won't ask Falena for fatherly advice though
Leona is, for sure, a girl dad; he also will pump the brakes at 1 child, 2 children would probably open old wounds he's not quite ready to deal with
『••✎••』
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Jack is, undeniably, a family man whose life goals follow a pretty traditional route: get married, have children, grow old and see his family thrive
His classmates sometimes teased him lightly about it, but they all were happy for him when they saw Jack's content smile at his wedding and later at the apparition of his first child
From the very beginning, Jack is a good husband and a doting father, and he loves spending one on one time with his kids the most
Jack loves having his little ones join him in his training regimens, even if all they do is watch and ask questions
That's what they do usually anyway, the kiddos have been waddling towards their dad since they were in diapers
Dominant beastmen traits or not, he still expects them to do their best physically, and he's the dad to sign up every kid for a sport
Not that he wouldn't be understanding if any of his kids happened to take a less physically challenging path in life: he'd be just as supportive, but he'd also reflect on his actions and ask his partner if they think he's done something wrong
Parenthood is a chance for Jack to learn how to be more of a team player, not only as part of a parental unit, but also as a dad who needs to meet his kids in the middle and understand that the "pack leader" can still be wrong if he doesn't listen to his pack
Jack would enjoy 3-4 kids, he loves the idea of a big family, and he'd totally be a boy dad
『••✎••』
Ruggie
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Ruggie never really thought about having kids, his main focus has always been financial stability and reducing that food anxiety
But it's very likely Ruggie would end up with an unplanned kid
He wasn't completely on board with the idea of parenthood... until his little one looked into his eyes and smiled
Did Ruggie accidentally pass down his pickpocketing skills to this kid? Because they just stole his heart
But that doesn't mean he really has a good grip on what parenting really means; yes, Ruggie is dependable and responsible, but he also is an orphan who has always fought against a lot of prejudice
So he often relies on his grandma for advice, she's the closes thing he has to a parent
He's the dad that really pushes his kid to learn as many things as they can, anything that can become a life skill will eventually come in handy
He helps his kid build up their independence, while they help him become more open and honest
Ruggie is very open with his child about his upbringing from the moment he feels like they are ready to hear it, and he makes them understand that his position in the Sunset Savannah is nowhere near the top as a hyena beastman
But he promises them that they are not any less worth being someone deserving of living comfortably just because of some societal garbage
Ruggie doesn't really have a gender preference, but would prefer 1 child, so the financial burden wouldn't be too heavy
『••✎••』
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The Wedding Planners (M) ~Changbin
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Pairing: Werewolf!Changbin x Werewolf!F.Reader Themes: Fantasy/Supernatural AU | Smut | Fluff | Established Relationship Word Count: ~3k | AO3 Synopsis: Planning a wedding was way more stressful than Changbin could’ve ever expected. It seemed so easy at first, like all that was needed was to fulfil a checklist and call it a day, but he realised very quickly that there was a reason for the concept of bride and groomzilla to have been created. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series]. Warnings: mentions of arguments (but it's fine. this is all soft) · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).
Author’s Note: this was originally going to be a drabble inspired by an ask that an anon sent. however, i felt like moving a bit of the story forward with it, so i upgraded it :^) hope you enjoy!
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
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Changbin’s WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of · The Wedding Planners.
Smut Warnings: unprotected penetration [piv] · creampie · fingering [F.Rec] · oral [F.Rec] · cum-eating/snowballing
Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
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Planning a wedding was way more stressful than Changbin could’ve ever expected. It seemed so easy at first, like all that was needed was to fulfil a checklist and call it a day, but he realised very quickly that there was a reason for the concept of bride and groomzilla to have been created. 
Changbin was a perfectionist to a fault, and so were you. This combination was a recipe for disaster… ‘You want those flowers? Are you serious? Do you even want to get married?’, ‘That tablecloth fabric is atrocious, I can’t believe you’d choose such a thing!’, ‘If there aren’t exactly eight flowers in each table arrangement we can’t even call this a wedding’…
It didn’t matter who said what, both you and Changbin had become absolutely insufferable beings. Not only to each other, but to the people around you as well. Which was why, by the nth month of you both planning your wedding, you’d very smartly agreed to create a proper system, name your must-haves and your absolutely-nots, and to fully hand over all duties to a wedding planner, your bridesmaids, and his groomsmen–who had also agreed it was the best choice for everyone’s sanity.
It’d been the best decision you both could’ve taken, since petty arguments over locations and flowers and tablecloths were most certainly taking a toll in your household’s dynamic. 
Finally, after months, Changbin and you had returned to acting like your normal selves again, and he’d figured, what better way to celebrate this regained freedom than to take his beloved fiancé on an escapade to the mountains?
Changbin was a man of luxury, he was well aware of this. When it came to his loved ones, he spared nothing. So renting a cabin in the middle of the woods for five days and four nights was an insignificant expense when it meant he could spend all that time with you. A time where he wasn’t Changbin the engineer, nor the right hand of an Alpha wolf, nor the groom in a wedding that would soon take place…
It was a time solely reserved for him to be himself, for him to be your mate and fiancé, your future husband, and for you to be his future wife.
His wife…
Every time he thought about it, he felt giddy, he just had to admit it. 
It was just a title, of course. He didn’t love you any less when you were ‘just’ his girlfriend, nor would he love you any differently when you’d legally become his wife, but he still liked the way it sounded. Not only that, but you liked the way it sounded.
Every time he called you his wife, he could just hear the way your heart rate spiked, he could see the big smile on your face…
But, oh, boy… When you called him your husband?
Changbin always felt like he was the luckiest man in the world, like he was ready to run a marathon or become the next Ninja Warrior. 
You were mates, yes. You had mated long ago, and although he was very satisfied with this, the idea of being your husband did things to him. Maybe it was the fact that he spent a lot of his time surrounded by humans, but the prospect of being legally tied to you in their world made his heart swell in his chest.
When you’d arrived earlier than expected to the main lodge three days ago, you’d proudly told the receptionist that ‘My husband has made a reservation for one of your cabins. Do you know if it’s already available?’ he couldn’t keep the grin off his face, nor did he want to.
These three days had been absolutely amazing. You’d had the opportunity to go on runs through the woods together, to stuff yourselves full of delicious food, to have couple massages, and to huddle yourselves inside this cosy cabin to escape the outside world.
The fireplace radiated warmth, which was more than appreciated during these cold months. The gentle crackling produced by it was an immensely relaxing background noise. The fairy lights and many candles distributed throughout the cabin covered the inside of your little safe haven with the gentlest light, and, truly, this was probably the most relaxed Changbin had felt in months.
Especially now, when he could feel your nails digging on his forearms, when your delighted moans joined the sounds of your bodies colliding and the wood burning in the fireplace.
“B–Binnie, b–bunny, b–baby–” 
Oh, you were already dropping the Three Bs on him, and that only made him want to rail you more.
Yes, Changbin was usually the more submissive one in the bedroom, that was no secret to either of you, but sometimes, the alpha in him just wanted to satisfy you, just like the omega in you wanted to be satisfied…
Was there a better way to do that than to have you in a mating press right there by the fireplace? 
There just wasn’t.
“Hm?” He grasped at the soft faux-fur rug under you, trying to ground himself. If he focused too much on the vice-grip of your cunt, or the blissed-out expression on your face, he’d just come.
He was so fucking close… He’d been for a while now, but he was enjoying himself too much, he just needed to prolong this for as long as possible. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have you like this again later, on the contrary, he was sure he was going to, but he was horny and an idiot and you felt so good and the sound of the dainty ‘C’ charm on your anklet tinkling next to his ear was just so enticing…
“You’re so–Fuck…–you’re so good, b–baby…” Even if you were looking at him, your eyes had lost focus a long time ago. If he looked hard enough, he could’ve sworn your blown pupils had taken the shape of two cute little hearts. “I love you, love you…”
You repeated yourself over and over again, and Changbin couldn’t help but swear under his breath. He took your calves off of his shoulders and leaned into you so he could hold you close. With an arm under your neck and his forearm planted on the floor for stability, he resumed his steady pace. “Lo–love you, too… Love you, pup…”
Your quiet whimpers so close to his ear were bringing him to the edge at an alarming rate, and he was incapable of keeping his own moans in check with how aggressively his insides were burning up.
“Fuck, baby, I’m so, so, so fucking close…” He mumbled against your hair, speeding the movement of his hips and increasing the strength of his thrusts.
“Yes! Please, please come… Want–Binnie, I want your puppies so badly, please–!”
His brain fogged up immediately, and he started to feel dizzy. “Yeah? My wife wants to be full of my pups?”
“Fuck, yes!” You dug your nails on his buttocks, and the sting alone almost made him blow. “Please, please, my– my alpha, my husband–”
“Oh, shit–!”
An animalistic growl resonated throughout the small cabin when he came. The sound quickly turned into desperate moans as he kept fucking bucket-loads of his cum into your hole. He was too far gone, too overcome with pleasure and warmth.
He didn’t stop moving until your slick walls had milked every single drop he had to offer, and even then, he kept pumping himself into you, just to make sure…
Well, it wasn’t like you’d be getting pregnant, since your birth control had been very efficiently doing its job for months and months now, but his instincts didn’t care about that. All his inner wolf cared about was to try his best for it to stick.
It wasn’t until the mild sting of overstimulation started to settle in that he pulled his cock out, but swiftly replaced it with two of his fingers before he was moving down your body and attaching his lips to your puffy clit. 
Oh, how heavenly it felt when he had you in his mouth… When you grasped at his hair and started gasping because of his tongue. His ears were still ringing, and he was still dizzy, but he needed to make you come, too. He was dying to feel you clamp around his fingers and hear you moan his name over and over again.
“O–oh, Changbin, fuck–!”
More.
He needed more. 
Before he knew it, he was sucking and licking your clit like a starved man, fucking you with his fingers to stimulate that area within your walls that had your thighs trembling around his head and your grip on his hair tightening. 
And, of course, you gave him more. Every moan, every sigh, every whimper was either a pet name, or a version of his name, or just a sound of pure pleasure and he was on absolute cloud nine. 
“Bun–bunny, I’m coming–”
Changbin could barely perceive the sounds coming out of his throat. He’d been groaning and moaning against your folds since he’d settled camp here. But when your walls started fluttering deliciously around his fingers, you managed to pull another growl out of him, and your whole body just trembled in response.
He stopped lapping at your clit when you’d patted his head with a whine. Pulling out his fingers, he revelled in the creamy mix of your climaxes coating his digits. His eyes found yours before he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean.
Your breath hitched in your throat, and you bit on your bottom lip as a smile started to spread across your face. Changbin loved to see that twinkle in your eye, to hear your body’s responses to him and his actions. They always made him feel proud of himself, and like you were the only person in this world for him.
He supposed you were. 
Never had he romantically loved someone this much, and at this point, he didn’t want to love anyone else romantically like this ever again. For him, it was just you. Every day, he was reminded that he was ready to spend the rest of his life with you.
As soon as he noticed his cum starting to spill out of your cunt, he immediately started cleaning you up with his tongue. He made sure to collect as much as he could in his mouth before he pressed a final, tender kiss to your clit and made his way up your body again.
With a satisfied sigh and your fingers buried in his hair, you pulled him in, sealing your mouths in a sloppy, loving kiss that had his brain almost disintegrating in his skull.
Changbin let his weight fall on you, and you simply wrapped your limbs around his body and squeezed him tight.
As the kiss slowed down and turned to tender pecks, Changbin hummed, pleased. Not only because of the body-rocking orgasm he’d just had, but because he was just so incredibly in love with you.
When he pulled away and his eyes found yours, he couldn’t help but appreciate how the reflection of the fairy lights sparkled in your eyes. His cheeks heated up at the sight, and a small giggle escaped his mouth before he was pressing another brief kiss on your lips. 
“Y’know”, you mumbled, burying your fingers in his hair when he shuffled a bit so he could lay his head on your chest. “Coming here was an excellent idea”.
“Mmm… Of course. It was my idea”, Changbin laughed when you pulled on his hair at his comment, and pressed a kiss to your chest right after.
“Duh, what would we do without your huge brain, Bin”.
He pulled himself away from your chest and planted both hands next to your head to look down at you. “I don’t appreciate the hints of sarcasm in that sentence, puppy”.
He was, of course, joking. The splitting smile on his face was a great indicator of that. The comment made you chuckle.
“Me? Being sarcastic about these things? Never”, a smile tugged at your lips, and you brought your hands to hold his waist. “But seriously, though. I couldn’t even recognise myself the last few months… It’s been awful”.
“It really has been. I couldn’t recognise myself, either. I’m really happy we can be here together. It’s like our pre-honeymoon!”
“Oh, my God, the honeymoon…” You sighed dreamily, squeezing his sides. “We’re really gonna be gone for two whole weeks…”
“Mm. Two whole weeks of you, me, and all those tourist traps we’re gonna visit”.
“All those tourist traps we’re gonna visit as husband and wife”, you giggled, wrapping your arms around his middle. “I can’t wait”.
“Me neither”, Changbin didn’t think he could smile any wider. The thought genuinely made him so, so happy, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to contain all these feelings within himself for long. “Anyway, how d’you feel about a warm bath?”
“That is another amazing idea for sure”, you chuckled, hanging onto Changbin with all of your limbs so he could stand up from the floor with you wrapped around him.
That warm bath was absolutely lovely. The way you caressed his hair and lovingly left trails of kisses on his face, arms, and shoulders had his heart swelling with adoration. Plus, getting to pamper you as well always left his inner wolf with a metaphorical wagging tail, so he stepped out of that bathroom feeling light, like he was walking on clouds.
With your bodies dry and fluffy robes over your frames, Changbin held onto you from behind as you both waddled back to the fireplace so you both could lay down again. 
He tried his best to choose a clean spot before he dropped a cushion on the floor for him to lay his head on, and pulled you into his arms. On the very first night here, you’d both mutually decided that you didn’t care about paying the extra cleaning fees for this rug…
Changbin exhaled a satisfied sigh once you had buried your face in his neck and hugged him close.
You inhaled deeply, almost dreamily, and the tender kiss you left on his pulse point had a small smile appearing on his face. 
“I really do love your scent…” You mumbled, letting your lips graze against his skin with every word. “I never thought I’d find so much comfort in an alpha’s scent. But yours is just so… ugh, I just looove it”.
Changbin could feel heat creep on his face, making him blush, and since words failed him, he just pressed a loud kiss on your forehead to show some appreciation for your words.
“I was thinking…” You mumbled after a while, cuddling closer to his side and draping a leg over his torso.
“Mm?”
“Y’know… About puppies…”
Changbin’s ears perked up, and his heart did a flip in his chest. “…Yeah?”
“D’you think Chris would have any problems if another couple in the pack had pups first?” You mumbled, tracing shapes with your index finger on his clothed chest.
What an interesting question… Would Chris have any problems with that? 
He was The Alpha of their pack, their leader, and tradition dictated that the alpha must be the first one to reproduce and bring pups to the pack. However… Chris wasn’t particularly traditional.
Chris had never really enforced anything on their packmates other than a few barely existing rules here and there, not only that but he had a human mate–yes, yes, he hadn’t claimed his girlfriend yet, but there was no doubt in Changbin’s mind that his dear best friend was going to do it at some point anyway. As far as Changbin had seen, having a human mate meant that their relationship would definitely go at a much slower pace than it’d go between werewolves.
Knowing Chris, and knowing his girlfriend, he was sure there wouldn’t be pups from them coming anytime soon. 
“Chris… I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mind”, Changbin said after a while, caressing your hair. “I could be mistaken… To be honest, I’m not, but I could be, so it’s something you could always ask him if you’re curious… Why?”
You hummed in response, and remained silent for a bit. Your hand slipped into his robe, and the shapes you’d been tracing over the fluffy fabric were now leaving a fiery trace on the skin of his chest, right over his heart.
Puppies… Changbin had thought about puppies before. Years ago, he would’ve never imagined himself as a father. He was a wreck, he didn’t have the emotional maturity to care for a child in the way they needed. Back then, that was… Nowadays, though…
“Would you… would you like to try for puppies?”
Your voice startled him. It went through his eardrum and spread all over his body, reaching his heart to accelerate its pumping. Puppies… Your puppies…
Changbin pulled himself away from you a bit, enough so he could prop himself on his elbow and look you in the eyes. You were looking straight at him, but he could tell you were nervous about what you were asking, and he realised then that he’d been quiet for a bit too long.
“Yes”.
“Yes?” The shock in your voice almost made him laugh. Were you doubting it?
“Of fucking course, puppy. Have our own litter?” He was almost shaking with excitement at the thought. “It’s like a dream. Our puppies, you and I…”.
A bright smile made its way onto your face, and in no time, you had straddled his waist and started peppering kisses on his cheeks, making him giggle.
“Our puppies, you and I…” You repeated, just before you planted a loud, wet kiss on his lips. “It really does sound like a dream”.
Well, nowadays, Changbin believed he could be a parent, especially if it involved you.
It seemed like that honeymoon was not only gonna be spent as a husband and wife visiting tourist traps, but also mating like dogs until that dream became a reality. It was very clear that you were both absolutely looking forward to it.
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General Masterlist | Ko-Fi Changbin’s WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of · The Wedding Planners.
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kuroshika · 1 year
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[ sorbet, 01×07 - long analysis below the cut. ] || [ tags: @lesbian-hannibal @shatteredlesbian @7x16pm ] || [ tumblr has refused to post this twice now and im giving up after this attempt. ]
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this episode, we're introduced to franklyn. he seems like a one-off side character who introduces us to the next villain, but his character seems to be a little bit more than that. he's eager to be hannibal's friend, and the rejection he feels when hannibal pushes those professional boundaries is a reflection of hannibal's actions towards will.
franklyn finds hannibal interesting. he thinks they'd be great friends, and is actively trying to form a relationship. this is a direct mirror of how hannibal feels about will — he finds will interesting, and thinks they'd be great friends, so he's actively trying to push will's professional boundaries. this rejection that franklyn feels is the same that hannibal feels.
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hannibal's pause and redirection here is interesting. though he may not be getting paid for will's visits, it definitely might be sad to think that will is only seeing him as mandated - it makes hannibal upset that will sees him only because he has to (as shown when poor hannibal sits in his office and pouts when will is late for his session near the end of the episode).
he has intimate knowledge of will, and wants to be his friend because of it - an opposite (but reflection) of franklyn's attempts to be his friend. looking at franklyn, speaking to him, is sort of like speaking to himself. franklyn seems to be a less fine-tuned version of hannibal.
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"tobias is my best friend, but i am not tobias's best friend". this sounds pretty similar to our weak relationship with will — hannibal sees will as his friend, will doesn't see hannibal as his friend, and will did take a higher interest in the ripper (and by extension, hannibal). i think here is where hannibal begins to realize the parallel between franklyn and tobias's relationship, and his and will's, as observed by the question he asks. "have you put him on a pedestal?"
in recognizing the reflection of the relationship he's chasing with will, hannibal is using his own therapy for himself - things make more sense when you tell someone else about them, out loud. he can help himself under the guise of helping franklyn if all goes to plan - and it does. franklyn agrees that he does, but also that he (and tobias) hold hannibal on a higher pedestal.
"i am a source of stability and clarity, franklyn, not your friend". this is the first time in the show hannibal adamantly refuses that he's someone's friend. he does the chasing, not the running. having such a reflection approach him to further their already precarious relationship is nothing but a problem.
franklyn assures him that he'd be a great friend, before swiftly changing the subject. the michael jackson tangent seems kinda kooky, and i skipped over it on my first watch-through, but i think i can make some deeper connections now. "you know what i think makes me the most sad about him dying? i will never get to meet him". ever since hannibal was introduced to will (or, rather, the exterior of his mental curtains), he's known there was something lurking beneath the surface. he's taken it as his mission to draw whatever will hides behind those curtains out, to see underneath his mask — to show him his becoming (as referenced in 1×05 "coquilles", when the angel maker tells will "i couldn't bring it out of you," to which will agrees "not all the way" (which feels like a callback to 1×02 "amuse-bouche", when hannibal only manages to draw will out half-way and have him admit that he enjoyed killing hobbs), and the angel maker offers "i can give you your becoming".). hannibal knows that the longer he waits to approach will, the closer the shadow behind the curtains comes to being repressed completely — the closer it comes to dying, in hannibal's mind, dying before he can meet him.
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franklyn obviously has a savior complex, yet another reflection of hannibal — as shown in his prolific identity as a surgeon, and his tableaus as the ripper. his words are very familiar to hannibal, who feels that if will allows him to be his friend, he could stop him from killing part of himself. hannibal can see the correlation and prompts him on gently — how is franklyn's efforts returned? how will his own be returned?
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franklyn's fantasy ends with him being the one to touch greatness, very much how hannibal's ends with him getting close to will — whom he already knows is great. he gets to be the one who draws will out into the light, he gets to be the one who sees will for who he truly is. he gets to touch greatness.
skipping over bedelia and hannibal's visit (mostly because i have a longer analysis for that scene and im already rambling), we cut to hannibal and will.
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here we have hannibal, yet again, asking if they're friends. usually, will is unhesitant in assuring him they aren't, but here, it's a little different. he's gotten too familiar with whatever relationship he and hannibal have, and that part of him behind the curtains strains for more. if he says they are, there's a sense of intimacy that will isn't prepared for (especially not with someone he can't feel). if he says they aren't, however, he feels like he'll lose that sense of codependency they have. hannibal won't need him, won't want his company any longer (though it's reassured in 1×08 "fromage" that he appreciates his company). he'll be a professional curiosity— the same thing he is to alana (as, again, instated in 1×08).
so, instead he says yes to both. in agreeing that their relationship is not professional (and establishing their friendship), will is avoiding that sense of intimacy that comes with being someone's friend while still profiting off of their codependent relationship.
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will reasserts control of the conversation by assuring that they're just having conversations. hannibal has been established as will's friend, and asserts himself as will's friend here — by repeating that he is a friend, and reminding will that the two share an intimate bond that has begun to blur the line between friendship and family.
whether will likes it or not, he's established that he's hannibal's friend. he's already intertwined with hannibal in a way that no one else is — he can feel the ripper strain under hannibal's person suit (or, as bedelia more aptly calls it this episode, his veil). he can sense what hannibal is, and part of him wants to get closer and wrap itself around whatever lays beyond the veil. i think this scene also offers the tipping point for hannibal's qualms about murdering franklyn — they are nothing alike anymore. will is his friend. the chase is over. he cannot help himself by helping franklyn - his death will be no loss.
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from the start, i’ve mainly been praising the show and have spoken against the minor nitpicks but i think some constructive criticism won’t go amiss. i’m always going to advocate for praise + critique but since literally all my posts praise the show (character-work, writing, directing, cinematography, literally all aspects) i’ll focus on the main issues i have with it for this one.
i’m only saying this because i do think there is merit to the conversation: yes, i agree with many other people saying the show has a very real lack of tension. the stakes are established, potential horrific consequences are alluded to, but the instances in which the action needs to take place falls short. i wanted to see percy and annabeth and grover SHOWING their inexperience through stumbling on traps (which would automically raise the tension in both medusa’s lair and the lotus casino), i wanted them to make mistakes and quick-think their way out of it. sure, there’s something to be said about conveying annabeth’s intelligence but aunty em was a great way of highlighting percy & annabeth’s dyslexia by having them be unable to read the signs. the statues could have been removed from the yard–a move that would show medusa’s intelligence instead. similarly, the fun of the lotus casino was about the creepiness that slowly and steadily builds on the backdrop of this harmless kid carival like setting. percy, annabeth and grover’s intelligence and knowledge has already been built in other obstacles so seeing them actually fall for well-set traps seems to me like a much more nuanced portrayal of the kids, their capabilities but also their weaknesses. speaking of, i was waiting for one moment of annabeth making some mistake, showing some flaw. i think it would have been cool if she was the one to lose her drachma given that she was undoubtedly jostled hard while clinging to the cerberus. grover already felt like he messed up after the lotus casino and having percy reassure annabeth after her drachma screwup would really nail in that yeah she’s intelligent and wise but she is also just 12 and she can be a bit reckless too.
honestly, i’m a sucker for flaws. i love my emotional percabeth bits to death but would i have rejoiced just as much had both of them been a little more unempathetic towards each other and been at each other’s throats for a few more episodes? yes.
i love show grover and his earnestness and savagery in manipulating a god but do i love my little coward goat boy who slowly but surely proves himself to be capable and brave? who keeps asking for food at the most inopportune moments but really has percy’s back at the end of the day? who is severely unconfident but slowly learns to trust himself more? yes! i just feel like the grover we have now was my imagining of grover in book 2-3. we never got to see his major flaws so i’m just wondering what kind of upward arc will he have and will it be as impressive as the books.
i really really appreciated that percy’s impertinence was actually something he paid a price for. it will make his continued rebellion against the gods that much more intentional. that said, i would have liked percy’s relative ignorance of the mythic world to still remain. having sally make him so prepared that he sometimes manages to know obscure greek stories sort of blends their roles in the trio. yes, each one of them is layered and there is no one super rigid position they must adhere to but this is storytelling on television at the end of the day, the characters should have unique traits to distinguish themselves. for me, percy’s intelligence was about his presence of mind and deductive reasoning which the lotus casino scene in the book beautifully portrays. similarly, his knowledge was less about facts he knew and more about the street smarts he had acquired. in some way, annabeth and percy have a weird overlap in characteristics (show annabeth feels as sassy as show percy which is not the book dynamic imo).
i don’t see these as minor nitpicks btw – i think show portrayals have changed these characters through small changes and while that is okay, it also leaves room for improvement before it is too late. there are many considerations to be made–percy’s grief, annabeth’s tackling of complex feelings about the gods, grover’s guilt, ofc. but it’s, i think, a valid critique of the show that the main trio’s dialogue and actions could be made more faithful to the books.
also, i think the direction can be more dynamic, especially in exposition-heavy scenes. there are ways to make info-dumping fun and i’m sure the directors are more than capable of exploring these options moving forward.
there are many more smaller things i would point out but i don’t want to make this longer that it already is. many people handwave alot of the critique saying that the show is for children to which i say: children’s media doesn’t mean lesser quality media–the books were literally made for children yet on tv, many scenes are sanitised, very little left not on-the-nose. i have myself mentioned how certain scenes could be impossible to film with 12 yr olds (medusa beheading) without harming them mentally in some way so i appreciate the clever sanitization there. but the action sequences do need much more edge and that’s okay to acknowledge. the show we have now is great but it is absolutely not without flaws and normalising discussion about the flaws is only going to benefit the show moving forward.
and lastly, rick might be the author of the books but there is no rule that once you like an author’s work, you will have to like all of that author’s writing. just because rick made some final decisions does not take away the fandom’s rights to question those decisions and critique the screenwriting. there is seriously no use putting him on a pedestal–and i say this as someone who adores his writing in pjo.
let’s let the fandom breathe a little. let the mild, politely conveyed critique become commonplace as much as the ardent praise because i think that’s the balance we need to ensure that season two delivers on all the fronts that season one was unable to.
that’s all. thanks for reading lol. have a nice day. :))
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serialunaliver · 3 months
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My response to this post about the possibility of Michigan school shooter Ethan Crumbley's mom being charged with involuntary manslaughter I was tagged in (putting it in a separate post because I don't feel like starting shit with anyone):
The case here being used is unique to other shootings. Typically mental illness is not actually the primary deciding factor for violence. Media coverage of school shootings has caused more school shootings than mental illness. A large amount of school shooters were inspired by the ideology of other school shooters. If Columbine wasn't treated the way it was I have no doubt there would've been less shootings.
When it comes to negligence involving mental health I don't actually see a big increase in surveillance or institutionalization as some are claiming though. The fact is parents can already use mental health as an excuse to force their kids into abusive 'treatment' with no consequence. It happens in every psych ward. It's also already used in legal cases as well, that happened to me and it did in fact lead to being forced into harmful treatment, so really the precedent and incentive is already there for those who choose it in my opinion. Meanwhile there's the opposite case where parents would rather their kid cause destruction than admit any mental health issue exists regardless of consequence. Logic is thrown out the window for the most part.
Now the defense of Ethan's mom is claiming he is a manipulator and not mentally ill. While anyone who follows me knows I despise the mental health argument about school shootings, it's quite clear this kid's actions prior to the shooting were at the very least a cry for help. He didn't try to make this secretive and even drew pictures of it. If his parents didn't care about this, it's possible he's neglected in some way at home, which can actually lead to antisocial behavior and acts of violence or threats of them, because, well, one would assume your parents would finally give a fuck about your well-being in that case. I'm diagnosed with a cluster B personality disorder partially due to "manipulative behavior" in the past which seemed horrible and illogical but was literally the only way I thought anyone would know I was hurting. Obviously I don't know if this is what's actually going on in Ethan's case, but what everyone can agree on is the parents' response to all this was not normal or acceptable and doesn't exactly paint an image of a well-adjusted family. And I do wonder if the "manipulator" argument comes from the (most common) perception that anyone with this behavior was just born evil.
ANYWAY, here are some articles/resources on common causes of school shootings and how media coverage and environment impact them, both to spread awareness and to point out that you should not in fact paint anyone as born evil or a future shooter just for certain issues.
• Bullies, black trench coats: Columbine’s most dangerous myths
• Violence has grown since California's incel shooting
• Who is most likely to get bullied at school?
• School shootings and student mental health (Includes more detailed statistics but some are misleading - the one on bullying is based on public perception of shootings, not actual cases, and the one on violent video games has no real correlation. Let this be a reminder to research your own sources!)
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kingkatsuki · 1 year
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— when you stand up for him
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Masterlist.
Warnings: 18+, v v suggestive, Bakugou’s always having nasty thoughts about you, not proofread.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 1.9k.
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Since you’d started working at Dynamight’s agency you’d found out firsthand how defamatory the media could be. There was often a mixture of positive and negative headlines for all the Pro-Heroes in the top fifty, some more negative than others. Cellophane had been stuck in a messy situation just last week when a saucy text chain had been leaked to the press, the lewd messages accompanied by a rather salacious picture of him in a state of undress. Obviously an attempt by the media to paint him in a bad light, but it actually ended up thrusting him into the top ten.
“He woulda sent that fuckin’ dick pic to anyone that asked.” Bakugou scoffed when you’d told him, grinning at the cheesy headline “Cellophane stuck in a sticky situation.”
But in particular, the media seemed hellbent on making a villain out of Dynamight. A well-known fact that they knew sold papers. His brash personality and fiery quirk made him an easy target for those sleazy tabloids to ridicule. Painting the perfect picture of Number One Pro-Hero Deku, and demonising the Number Two who was always hiding in his shadow.
Of course, the media scrutiny didn’t bother Bakugou much, far used to these words for them to have any real bite. The judgement seemed to have followed him since he was a teenager, and he’d spent the better part of his adult years trying to prove himself through his actions. And although you didn’t know it, your opinion meant far more to Bakugou than a handful of gossip magazines.
It wasn’t unusual for these reporters to call through to the Dynamight agency, especially after a successful mission. Each outlet wanting to be the first to get the scoop hot off the press from the main man himself, but fortunately for Bakugou you were the final roadblock between them and the Pro-Hero.
Most of the time you could weed through the good calls and the bad, finding the best opportunities for Dynamight to showcase himself to the world and add those precious boosts to his hero ranking. Knowing firsthand how much Bakugou hated any kind of interview environment, preferring to showcase himself through his hard work, you were careful with the engagements that you picked. The few he did were always enough to keep him sitting comfortable in second place.
You groaned when you realised who you’d ended up with on the phone, the lead journalist for The Heroic Choice, a controversial tabloid that had just published a rather scathing article about Pro-Hero Welder. And you were certain judging by the “direct” quotes that most had been stretched out of context to fit their narrative.
“Thanks for taking our call,” The voice spoke on the other end of the line, not that you’d had much choice, “Dynamight hasn’t responded to any of our emails, so I thought it best to try and reach you directly.”
“Yes, well Dynamight’s a very busy hero.” You spoke through gritted teeth.
“Oh, we’ve heard. We had a very concerned reader call in earlier to tell us that Dynamight almost killed someone again—” You were already seething at the accusation when the reporter continued, “How many totalled buildings is it this year? The budget must be at breaking point by now, or is it less a budget and more hush money for the victims? Almost as bad as a villain, wouldn’t you agree?”
You weren’t sure what came over you in that moment. Some would probably argue that it was the amount of love that you had built inside you for Bakugou Katsuki that made you want to protect and defend him with your life, or it could’ve just been the fact that being his secretary meant you got to see a side of him that no one else was lucky enough to see. The Hero that dedicated so many hours of his life to protecting the city and its residents, putting his own life at risk to ensure that people made it home safely to their loved ones. The countless amount of times you’d visited him in hospital or done a rather bootleg patch up of his injuries in his office after hours. The scars that now littered his body each held their own story of a time where Dynamight put others before himself, and you weren’t about to let some gossipy B-rate magazine besmirch him. Especially to try and call him, the man that would give his life for others, a villain.
So you did what Bakugou probably would’ve done, you exploded.
You weren’t even sure where it came from, certain in the months that you’d been working for Dynamight you’d never once let your temper get the best of you, even with particularly troublesome callers. His personality must have been rubbing off on you, as you continued to argue back and forth with the man on the phone, your voice increasing in power the more he argued back.
The noise roused Bakugou from his mission report, crimson eyes looking up from his laptop as he tried to make out the shouting on the other side of his office wall. Pushing his desk chair back as he dropped his glasses on top of his laptop he made his way towards the hallway, thinking that another person was harassing you for some kind of Dynamight endorsement deal again. Tugging open the door Bakugou prepared himself to tell whoever it was to leave and stop pissing off his secretary but he was shocked to see you shouting on the phone.
“Dynamight is the greatest Hero of our generation and we’re lucky to have someone like him protecting our streets. There’s no telling what could happen if we didn’t have him. Did you know violent crime is down twelve percent since he entered the top ten? And that’s not including the crime syndicates he’s managed to infiltrate in the last three months—”
Bakugou had to stop in the doorframe at the sound of you listing off facts about him so effortlessly. Mouth agape like a fish out of water as he began to wonder who you were on the phone to, and how they had managed to rile you up to this extent.
You hadn’t even noticed him standing there as you continued to berate the caller, asking them whether they had looked up any crime statistics or whether they were just interested in a sleazy headline.
Bakugou didn’t know what to say, standing outside his office as he stared at you between furrowed brows. After hearing shouting outside, he hadn’t expected it to be coming from you, and he definitely hadn’t expected it to be because you were defending him to the media.
It had Bakugou’s chest swelling with pride as he continued to hear you list of reasons why Dynamight would never do an interview with The Heroic Choice, not that he needed you to tell them that. He could’ve easily given them his own list of reasons, the main one being their scathing reviews of anyone other than Pro-Hero Deku. His throat felt dry as he watched your eyes darken as you continued to argue with them on the phone, nostrils flared as he tried to fight the blood rushing directly between his thighs.
God, you were so fuckin’ perfect.
He’d never had anyone defend him to such a level, and it made it even more special that it happened to be you doing it— the woman he was so madly in love with. Even the shy, wide-eyed look you gave him when you noticed him watching you made his heart flutter as you exchanged the last few words with the tabloid over the phone.
You’d been so heated you hadn’t even noticed Bakugou shamelessly ogling you while you were on the telephone, although you were certain he’d heard you. Your voice at least a few octaves louder than necessary, but you couldn’t help it. The realisation you had an audience now dawning on you as you gave your boss a sheepish smile.
“I’m so sorry about that, sir.” You practically gushed as soon as you slammed the phone down, which immediately began ringing again, “It just makes me so mad, they talk like they know you but they really don’t know you at all—”
“Next time, get me.” He rasped, mainly because you didn’t deserve dealing with assholes like that on the phone, but also because Bakugou wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive you taking another call like that without blowing his load in public. The thought of having to spend the rest of the day in damp boxers had him squirming as he turned around.
“Yes, sir. I know I should’ve, but he made me so angry. I’m sorry.” No matter how many times he told you not to call him sir, you would do it anyway and it did nothing to quell the ache in his pelvis.
“Take five.” Bakugou grumbled.
“Thank you si— Bakugou.” You stopped yourself with a smile as you stood up from the desk hesitantly.
Bakugou practically waddled back into his office, trying to conceal the tent between his thighs from your praise. The overprotective words had his cock throbbing as he tried to calm his racing heart, and it didn’t help you’d said his name. Slamming his office door a little harder than intended as he pressed his back to the hardwood. Eyes screwed shut as Bakugou made a feeble attempt at steadying his breathing, before glaring down at the obvious bulge. Silently willing it to disappear as he prayed you hadn’t seen it.
But Bakugou had left so abruptly with barely a word that you began to worry that you’d done the wrong thing, remembering Creati’s words one evening when she had been visiting the agency. “All press can be good press if you orchestrate it correctly.” Maybe Bakugou really was mad at you for losing your temper on the phone to one of Musutafu’s biggest tabloids, you’d definitely guaranteed another negative Dynamight article about him. Your eyes glancing over to the shut door to his office as you gnawed your glossed lip between your teeth, pondering whether you should knock on the door to apologise. The phone began to ring again as you were making that decision, opting to pick it up and hopefully do some kind of damage control for his important public image. Hoping that the PR team wouldn’t find out just how hostile you’d been on the phone to a company representative. You had no idea that on the other side of the door, your boss was losing his cool because of you, but not for the reason you thought.
About a week later The Heroic Choice ended up posting their scathing article about Dynamight anyway, although it did little to smear his hero rating. Instead the article seemed to focus on his fiery little secretary who was seemingly even more tenacious than his newly appointed sidekicks.
“Dynamight’s secretary even more explosive than him? More on page six.” It was accompanied by a picture of you that Bakugou was certain they’d managed to take from one of your social media profiles.
You’d been so embarrassed when Bakugou had shown you the magazine with a smirk, highlighting his favourite parts of the article which happened to be the direct quotes of you defending his tenacity and altruism.
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What you didn’t know was Bakugou had cut out this article and pinned it to the fridge inside his apartment, grinning at it whenever he passed. The picture they’d picked of you was real fucking pretty after all— it wasn’t his fault that it brought back the memories of you defending him every time he looked at it, his cock standing to attention when he remembered how irate you’d looked that day. Somehow it made you even prettier… But of course, he’d never tell you that.
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rosepetalmark · 4 months
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nonsense.
warnings: nsfw | mentions of alcohol/being drunk, sex, swearing, possession!kink (kinda) pairing: young! coriolanus snow (pre hunger games) x fem! reader summary: a late night drunk call with your best friend turns spicy -> inspired by "nonsense" by sabrina carpenter -> 4.7k words
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he was drunk. you knew the moment you answered the phone that’s been constantly ringing throughout your house the past ten minutes. you hoped it was the wrong number. or someone wanting to discuss flower arrangements with your mother. lavish renovations and additions to your house never stopped, prompting you to never bat an eye at the never ending late night phone calls catered towards your parents. 
the luxuries never seemed to end, not when you’re a member of one of the most elite families within the capitol. 
but it wasn’t a wrong number. it was a number that was all too familiar to your memory, one you called frequently whenever you wanted a close friend to chat with. 
it was unusual for him to call you so late at night, especially on a friday. he normally was buried in textbooks, determined to maintain the top spot in the class in order to gain him the plinth prize. 
but tonight was different, because you know he, and along with all your classmates, were at clemensia dovecote’s party. you decided to skip out on the party your dear friend clem was hosting, still recovering from the hangover you experienced last week from the party marcus hosted at his parents vacation home. 
anything personal and as scandalous as a party was forbidden at the academy, as academics, poise, and determination were all factors each and every student were expected to uphold. anything less than such would result in expulsion. that didn’t stop you and your fellow classmates from having sneaky get-togethers filled with alcohol and capitol grade drugs, many of which were obtained from your parents' homes. you all knew how to have fun, but you also knew how to keep such fun underwraps. none of the academy students wanted to face repercussions for their actions, so it was mutually agreed upon to keep such excursions to yourselves, with no further reminiscing or discussions held the following monday when school commenced. 
coriolanus however, didn’t want to miss out. he skipped the last few parties because he wanted to focus on his assignments, determined to maintain his more than perfect average to ensure he was top of the class. a miniscule drop in his average would eat him alive, as anything less than perfect was a failure. that was the snow mentality after all. 
tonight was different. coriolanus desperately needed a break from school, the bags under his eyes and disheveling of his hair making it well known that he was eating his notes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. he was also most likely in attendance due to the upcoming week off for students within the academy with it being winter break after all.
you could barely muster a hello into the phone once you decided to answer it, a giddy laugh emerging from the opposite end. you could tell he was incredibly intoxicated; he always was a lightweight.
“heyyy,” he chirped, his deep voice admitting to the abundance of alcohol swimming in his body. 
rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but laugh at the state he was in. it’s been a while since coriolanus had fun and left his room, always rejecting any forms of interaction away from his homework and readings;always putting his academics first, friends and parties at the very bottom of his list.
except for you. he always managed to squeeze you into his more than tight schedule.
“shouldn’t you be at a party right now?” you question.
“haha. well i was there.” he began to giggle, his voice drifting off as he began to ponder what he was going to say next. “but after a few hours it got pretty boring. festus and felix left an hour in because they’re leaving early for their road trip tomorrow, and i think hilarious went to hookup with someone. lucky man. oh, and livia threw up on clemmy, i think? not sure though.”
“why are you laughing?” you question. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for coryo to be a giggly mess when he was drunk, as it was a complete shift in his demenor compared to his sober state. when he was sober, he was cold and polished, so it was never a  surprise to see him transcend into his altered state- he needed to let loose and be free more often. 
“why didn’t you help clem out? you know she’s never going to let livia live it down that she threw up on her, let alone probably ruined one of her new dresses.”
“because i want to laugh!” he pouts, completely ignoring your question about his friends. well, friend. clemensia was a close friend. livia was barely an acquaintance. “i think i’m fairly intoxicated and that’s probably why but, wow i feel so light. content even. i don’t believe i’m drunk to the point where i won’t remember anything, but this is a nice shift in my state, like amnice little pick me up”
rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but think of how much of a pompous ass he was sounding like. even when he was drunk, he had to sound intellectual. 
the last time you went out with coryo was months ago, right when the spring semester ended and you were all finished for the summer. but you never saw him drunk. he was always composed in social settings, never allowing his guard down when those around him were getting drunk or high. he has a reputation to uphold, and he never wanted to appear as less than flawless.
“why’d you call me so late, coryo? you never call this late. you're never drunk for that matter either, might i add.”
“i was bored and wanted to play a game with my lovely best friend,” he exclaims.
“coriolanus, it’s one in the morning. i'm in no mood to be playing a game right now.” 
“come on. it’s not like we’re going to play a board game or video games or anything. i'm too lazy for that now. 21 questions is what i want to play.”
“i haven’t played that game since we were kids, coryo.”
“why not?” he kept pestering, not seeming to let the concept of a meaningless game go.
“because we’re not 13 and you’re not a perv trying to touch boobs for the first time in your life! you already know as much about me as i know about you. i doubt there’s anything more you’d like to ask about my life.”
and that was true. coryo kept his circle small, but even within that small circle, you were the closest to him. out of everyone at the academy, you were the only one who knew about his living condition. the only one who knew about his grandma’am’s obsessive singing of the anthem every morning. the only one who would pick up the pieces after a meltdown about his education, deeply understanding that he needed the plinth prize in order for a successful future at the university and within the political realm. 
you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t imagine any romantic future with him, but you knew that was hopeless dreaming. you read him like a book, and you knew he’d only marry for the sole purpose of having an heir and carrying on the snow legacy. romance and relationships were not a priority to him. 
success and power were. 
“what’s your favorite colour?” he asked, cutting you off from your thoughts, not allowing you to voice your objections about this silly game to him. you truly did not want to play this game, let alone be awake right now. but if it’s what makes your best friend happy, you’ll give in for a few minutes.
“purple.”
“what is your favorite day of the week?” you ask, unamused with how the game began.
“friday,” he hums, “it gives me hope that i can relax and see my friends on the weekend before all the stress starts up again on monday.”
sighing, you couldn’t help but notice how exhausted he sounded. behind the deepness in his voice and eagerness to continue communicating,you envisioned the bags under his eyes to be anything but clear and healthy, with dark bruise-like colors covering them;a clear representation of how overworked he has been lately. 
“why don’t you take a break from school?” you ask more seriously, knowing that he wouldn’t ever give you a straight answer when sober. at least when he’s drunk he’s completely honest, and with an honest answer you can find ways to help him. 
scoffing, you could tell he was appalled by such a question. “you know i can't,” he whispers, raking his fingers through his long blond curls, a habit he does when trying to make himself less anxious in stressful situations. 
“i need high grades. i need the plinth prize. i need to go to the university. if not, who will support tigris and grandma’am? who will support me? i can’t let my reputation-my family's reputation falter due to my lack of ambition.”
your heart broke for him. it truly did. all he ever tried to do was survive. to continue on the successful path that was once set in stone for him. but once his father died, that path crumbled within the blink of an eye, leaving coryo to be anxious every day for the rest of his life.
“sweetie, you know that won’t happen.” you say, trying to emit some positivity into his life.
“and you don’t know if it will.” he defends, his voice growing a bit higher. 
“yes i do.” you say, trying your best to comfort him over the phone. “you’re coriolanus snow. you can do absolutely anything you put your mind to. it just makes me sad watching you burn yourself out trying to stick to a timeline that doesn’t even matter when you’re throwing your health and happiness down the line.”
“that’s not what i’m doing.”
“yes it is, coryo! you’re going to kill yourself if you continue at this rate.”
“anyways, i’m in no mood to argue.” he said, bringing the phone closer to his ear. “next question! and no more emotionally complex ones, please.”
with such a vast switch in conversation, you begin to ponder what you’re going to ask him. it’s been a while since you’ve played this game, your mind blanking on any possible question to ask your best friend that you highly doubt you don’t know the answer to. 
“uhhhh,” you murmured, fiddling with the string on your pajama shorts to help your brain think of something to say. 
yawning, he couldn’t help but become annoyed at your lack of effort in this game. “you’re taking too long, so i’ll go. when’s the last time you had a really good fuck?”
“huh?” you half yell, completely shocked at the words that left your best friend's mouth. you’ve had conversations about your sexual experiences only a handful of times, but coriolanus was always more quiet and discreet when sharing such details. never in your life would you have thought you’d hear such a bold statement come from his mouth. 
“when’s the last time someone fucked you really good? i don’t remember if we talked about it or not, the last guy i remember was festus but that was months ago. or was it felix? either way, i don’t remember many details so now is the time for you to share them, my dearest best friend.”
warmth was all you felt throughout your body. not only were you shocked, but you were slightly turned on by the dominance he was eliciting through such a raunchy question. you don't know if you’re feeling this way due to embarrassment, or because deep down you wished he was one of the guys on your list that you’ve fucked. 
the typical best friends to lovers trope,whatever lovers meant in this century, has always lingered at the back of your mind whenever you thought of your relationship with coriolanus. you love him, you truly do, you can ever see yourself marrying him. you’ve established a level of comfort and vulnerability with one another where you feel like you’re both open books. 
you’ve always thought he viewed you both as too close to be romantic partners, not wanting to change the dynamic you’ve built for yourselves. but friends with benefits? you’ve thought of it a few times. a lot of times actually. you just never thought to bring up the idea simply because he’s your best friend, and because he was always busy. he left scandalous hookups and rendezvous strictly for summer, keeping them so deeply locked in his mind you had to pry for the tiniest of details.
“felix was the last guy i slept with actually, however i enjoyed myself with sejanus more. felix was decent, but it took me like 20 minutes to finish. it’s like he wasn’t even trying to get me off, like he was just there to get his dick wet and leave. sejanus, my god he was good.”
“how good?” he asks, his voice getting deeper, his eyes widening as you go into further detail about the best sex you’ve had in a while. 
“aren’t you so curious,” you joke, thinking back to how well sejanus treated you during your last hookup.”it was maybe like three months ago? maybe four, i can't really remember the timeline but my god did he make me feel so good. i swear i came like three times, corio, it was crazy. i never thought i’d have sex on a kitchen counter but one minute he was showing me the blueberry muffins his ma made, and then the next thing i knew my back was digging into the countertop and he was eating me out like it was his last meal on earth it was phenom-”
“i bet i could make you feel like that again,” he said sternly, his voice appearing angier.
“wait, w-what?” you stuttered, needing to know if you heard him correctly. 
“i said”, he coughed, clearing his throat. “ i could make you feel that good. better, even.”
“corio,” you sighed, a sense of eagerness lingering in your voice. you could feel your face heat up, his words are heating you up. “you’re um, you’ve had a lot to um. what i’m trying to say is-”
“i want to fuck you.”
“you’re drunk, coriolanus. you’ll probably forget you had such a thought in the morning and you’ll laugh it off if i bring it up to you so um, yeah. we can gloss over this and just pretend you didn’t just uh- yeah, you did not just say that. you’re speaking nonsense.”
the smart, energetic, compassionate boy you call your best friend has turned stoic, yet there was a sense of hesitation in his voice. “please, i promise i’m no longer drunk, and i one thousand percent mean what i said. when have i ever lied?”
“considering about an hour ago you were wasted, i’d rather wait to have a conversation about this with you tomorrow or something.”
“so come over.”
“what?” 
“come over and we can talk and i can guide you through all the times i’ve had a hard on because of you or how i’ve touched myself thinking about you. or how i'd get jealous of every guy that’s ever had the opportunity to touch you and make you feel good.”
“why didn’t you say something i don’t know like, like forever ago?” you were becoming eager. desperate to understand the words coming from his mouth. desperate to know that they are true.
“oh,” he sighed. “school you know. or you’d be with someone. i didn’t want to interfere with your personal relationships, seeming as they should be kept quiet. talking to you tonight and hearing about you with sejanus, of all people, my goodness, why? but anyways, it stirred something within me and i really needed to tell you. and part of this may be because i’m horny and haven’t gotten laid in a really long time but you’re also so beautiful and funny and god please say something because i’m so hard.”
your breath was hot. you let out a long exhale, trying to wrap your mind around the absurdities leaving his mouth right now. “you’re talking nonsense, coryo.”
“i’m not, and you know it.”
and you know he’s not lying. you know he’s a terrible liar. he’s told you many times that he can't tell a lie to save his life.you want him to kiss you so hard that neither of you can breathe. you want him to treat you like a fragile piece of glass, to take his time with you, covering every delicate part of your body with harsh, dark love bites. you want everyone to know that your body was his and his was yours.  you want him to beg for every part of you before he could even lay a single finger on your body. 
you want to fuck coriolanus snow. 
nervousness shot through your body. were you actually going to go over to screw your best friend? the thought had crossed your mind several times, but you never imagined such intense and intimate thoughts would come to life. you’ve always felt some sort of sexual tension with him, so why not enjoy it and move on?
“i’ll be at your place in twenty,” you say, abruptly ending the call and grabbing your shoes and a sweater.
you were on you way to fuck your best friend. ___
you barely made it up the stairs of the penthouse before you were whisked away into coryo’s room, his lips eagerly attacking your neck as you brought your hands to his messy curls to tug at. 
your back was slammed up against his door, his plump lips aggressively kissing every inch of your body, touching you like he was starved of intimacy and lust. 
kissing him was invigorating. you can’t believe you’ve spent all your life away from his luscious lips and rough touch. you’ve only been in his physical presence for less than five minutes, and you already know he’s going to treat you so well.
you know you’re not going to be able to walk properly for days.
but as coriolanus continues to pepper loves bites down your neck, his hand trailing toward your chest, unzipping the hoodie you threw on when you left your house, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was right. he was your best friend after all. you’ve never done anything romantic with one another. the most physical thing you’ve done was hug, which was only done on a rare occasion. physical affection was banned in the academy, and coryo had a composed reputation to uphold when out in public in the capitol. hugs were left for late night goodbyes or comfort when needed-nothing less, nothing more.
breaking away from his devouring kisses, you bring yourself to stare into his lustful blue eyes.  “should we be doing this?” you whisper.
fear struck his face and you could feel his body tense up, his tight grip on you faltering as the words left your mouth. “is this not what you want?” he questions, his face scrunching in confusion. “we can stop if you don’t want me.”
the words “if you don't want me” were floating through your brain. how could he possibly think you don’t want him? he’s everything anyone could ever want and more. you’ve been yearning for this moment for as long as you could remember. 
“coryo.” you sigh, bringing your hand to his delicate cheek, rubbing your thumb against it. “i only want you. i just don’t want this to make things weird between us, that’s all. you’re not just another guy for me to fuck.”
you could tell your words had an impact on him, as his hard on was pressed against your thigh, growing with your confessions towards wanting him. needing him. 
“princess.” he growls. “nothing will change, i promise. i want you more than you could ever imagine. okay?”
“mhm, yeah okay. sorry. i was just overthinking.”
“no need to overthink, love. it’s just you and me, right?"
“right.” you answer, your confidence slowly coming back. you bring your lips back to his, slowly regaining the hunger you felt for him on your walk over. you two carry off immediately where you left off, his lips back on yours, your hands back in each other’s hair. 
“what’s your favourite position?” he asks, his breath becoming heavier in between kisses. 
while coriolanus begins to unzip your sweater, you begin to ponder. missionary never fails, but you’ve waited too long for this moment to partake in such a mundane position. reverse cowgirl hits all the right spots, but then you won’t be able to see coriolanus’ face as he cums. you want to see him crumble. you want him moaning in your ear from the pleasure he feels. you want tears streaming down your face from how good and deep he fucks you. 
“i want to ride you,” you say confidently. 
“that’s my girl,” he smirks, lifting you up. you wrap your legs around his waist, bringing your hands to his cheeks as you begin to kiss him deeply,  him walking you to both to his bed so he can show you how good he can make you feel. 
he’s on top of you, pressing his body deeper into yours as you continue to makeout with each other, your tongues aggressively intertwining as one. it’s like you’re both animals in heat. you can’t get enough of each other, touching every available part of your bodies as a means of becoming closer to each other. he quickly slides down your shorts, his pants shortly following, and you push your hips up, slowly grinding into his dick. he’s so hard. and big, from what you can feel. you need him in you. now. 
“coryo,” you whine, rubbing your hands up his chest, signaling that you want his shirt off, the only article of clothing left preventing your two naked bodies to be pressed together as one. 
“mhm?” he questions, continuing to kiss your flushed lips.
“please, i need you now,” you beg, signaling for him to roll over and pull you on top of him. it’s as if he can read your mind, as he turns over instantly and grabs you by the waist, throwing you on his thighs. he places a chaste kiss to your lips, then lines his hard on with your entrance. he stares into your eyes, silently asking if you were ready. you quickly nod, and the moment you sink down into him, you’re in ecstasy. you start off slow, trying to adjust to his size, slowly but surely picking up the speed once you’ve become adjusted to him. 
“god you take me so well, baby,” he moaned in your ear, your walls clenching around his dick as you continue to grind into him. his hands were gripping into your hips, and with each thrust you were seeing stars, something you’ve never felt when with anyone before. 
“you feel so good coriolanus. so good mmh,” you pant, your legs becoming sore as you continue to bounce on him. “no one’s ever made me feel this way before.”
“not even sejanus?” he questions, smirking as he thrusts into you a bit harder at the mention of his enemy's name.
“no!” you moan, basking in the pleasure he’s providing you. “only you, coryo. no one’s ever fucked me as good as you. just want you.”
“good.” he says, continuing to match your rhythm. “i don’t want you fucking anyone else. or thinking of anyone else. just me, baby. can you do that?”
you slow down your rhythm, grabbing him by the nape of his neck and pulling him into a hunger-filled kiss. he matches your rhythm, indulging in the kiss you two are sharing.  “coryo, i’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long, please. i just want you. only you. not just physically,” you sigh, both in pleasure and in sadness. 
you want him, way beyond sex. you want to hold his hand in public. you want him to cup your face and kiss you when something excites him. you want to be the mother of his children. the first lady to his president. 
you want him to consume you in all aspects of your life.
“i want you too, gorgeous.” he grunts, the shakiness in his voice and slowed down thrusts signalling that he was close. “it’s only ever been you.”
you grip onto his shoulders, picking your pace back up, feeling your high fast approaching. you slam your hips into his, causing his dick to twitch inside you, his eyes rolling far back into his head. 
“i love it when your eye roll because of me.” you cry, continuing to sink your body deeper into his. “i’m so close, coryo.”
he adjusts his grip on your body, helping you grind your hips deeper into his. he moans in agreeance, sensing you were becoming tired, aiding you both in your climaxes as he thrusts himself deeper into you, hitting you in all the right places. 
you’re so overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re receiving. your breath is hitched and your thighs are aching, but you refuse to give in to your exhaustion. this feels too good to give up, and you can tell coriolanus felt the same way. his thrusts were becoming sloppy, a bead of sweat slowly trickling down his forehead as he continues to pound into you, desperate to finish.
the hums of his moans were deep in your ear, eliciting the knot in your stomach to final loosen, and all you see is white. coriolanus continues to pump himself in you, slowly coming deep in your core as you continue to ride out both of your highs.
“you’re doing so well baby.” he moans, his pace being more spaced out, your orgasms getting the best of you. you both sink into one another, your movements stopped, giving you both a breather to catch your breaths and gather yourselves. coriolanus slowly pulls out of you, hugging your waist to ensure your physical contact isn’t broken. 
his cheeks were glowing, and you couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss to his collarbone. coriolanus tucks the loose piece of hair lingering by your forehead behind your ear, staring into your eyes with such admiration, hardly breaking eye contact as you examine his beautiful face. 
“this wasn’t how i thought my night would turn out.” you giggled, tracing circles on his chest.
“neither did i, but i guess a lot of stress and a little posca can do wonders.” he explains, smiling at your joke. 
you stare back into his blue orbs, wondering what he’s thinking. 
“i meant it when i said i want you.” he confirms. “i tried to deny my feelings for you for so long, believing that if i maintained my studies and didn’t partake in relationships, i’d have everything together. but that was a lie, because you consume my every thought. i don’t think i can live another day without you being mine."
“are you just saying that because you’re jealous i slept with sejanus?” you joke, attempting to process the heartfelt  confession that slipped from his lips.
scoffing, he couldn’t help but press a kiss to your forehead. “well, that was an error on your part but i’ll pretend it never happened for my ego’s sake. but no, i’ve realized i’ve held my feelings in for far too long, and it’s time i’m open about them and with you. i like you, very much. and i’m hoping there’s a future for us together that is beyond platonic friendship.”
bringing him in for a deep hug, your bare bodies becoming one, you can’t help but feel content with how this night is going. you started the night off thinking you’d be annoyed asking coriolanus questions about his favourite animals or guilty pleasures, not engulfed in his warm arms, blushing at his crush confession towards you.
 “i like you too, coriolanus, and i would love to be your girlfriend.”
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atlasofthestaars · 4 months
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Shang Tsung sfw alphabet please!
oh boy here we go LMAO
SHANG TSUNG
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
In a relationship that he does not care about, I'd imagine Shang Tsung would shower his "lover" in gifts, compliments, affection, etc. This is because he is trying to get the other person to trust him and associate good things with him to get what he wants In a true relationship with Shang Tsung, he would be affectionate, but I don't think overly so. I think this is because he isn't trying to get anything from you. He doesn't want gifts and compliments to be what you remember him from. Certainly, every gift and compliment that are given to you are full of thought and love, but he doesn't want to take the chance that you'll think more of the presents and words than his true intent. I believe he'd be more physical, since in his head he'd think you'd be able to feel his love through his actions more. Although he isn't showering you in affection, everything he does is full of his love. Shang Tsung thinks you deserve the world, and if you wished he would give it to you, but I think the way he would prefer to show it is through the fact that he means it with you.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Shang Tsung is a guarded individual. Sure, he is suave and charismatic person, but it is all to further his own means. He lived a struggling childhood and I imagine that it taught him that in order to get what he wants, he must put himself first and foremost. He lied and schemed, even though he didn't need to, for his self preservation. So being the selfish person he is, it would be hard to be close with anyone. I can only really imagine him getting close with someone after so long, and probably after he can see you as both someone loyal to him AND an equal to him. Otherwise, I don't think he'd be close to someone akin to a best friend
If you manage to past that though, I'd imagine the embellished words would drop a bit more. I'd think he would be a little more real. Sure, he may speak in a certain way just because that's who he is, but I don't think he'd try to be sly or smug around you. He'd probably discuss gossip with you. I think you'd know you're close with Shang Tsung when you realize that he stops trying to impress you and just be well, him.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
I think he wouldn't mind cuddling. But only in private, not because he's ashamed of you, but he doesn't want others to see this side of him. It's only for you, after all. No one else gets to see the privilege of him in such a vulnerable state. I think his cuddles would be essentially him draping himself over you, leaning his weight upon you as if he were a blanket. It's almost like a sign of trust. Like him silently telling you, "I know you wouldn't let me fall, you would support me."
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
I don't think Shang Tsung is necessarily one for settling down, unless its lavishly. I think he is just a bit too greedy to want to settle for less than what he wants. And Shang Tsung wants as much as he can get. However, with a bit of convincing from you as well as depending on the conditions you both are under, I can imagine he might do it. If you are living lavishly, I can imagine it wouldn't be so bad to convince him. If you were both refugees from Outworld, he'd be a bit reluctant, but if you were in genuine distress and showed that to him, I could see him agreeing to settle down for both of your sakes to try and lay low.
Cooking and cleaning, I think he is sufficient at both. He had to live by himself for a bit so I imagine he would know how to do it in order to make himself presentable, and well, survive. He might not be the most fancy chef but its good enough. I imagine he knows how to be somewhat tidy. I think to present to others he's tidy, but personally he leaves a few things lying around and it's a little chaotic in his own personal spaces. If it were his choice though, he'd have someone else clean and cook for him, as long as they don't touch the especially personal items.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
If he truly loved you, I don't think he would have the heart to face you. I think he would flee with a note in the middle of the night, being a bit of a coward. If it was a result of a fight, I can imagine Shang Tsung saying the most vile things he probably doesn't mean just to try in the heat of the moment. He might immediately regret it, but it would take him a while to bring himself to be able to even try and reconcile with you due to his pride. I think those are ultimately the two ways he would do it.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
I think Shang Tsung would only want to get married if he is certain that you are the one he is willing to live for. I don't think he'd like being tied down since he likes his options open (not talking about relationships wise, but the fact that he doesn't like the idea that this person would get in the way of options in case things go awry with plans). I think it'd take a lot of convincing, but if he loves you, then he would. If he has the luxury, I'd imagine ideally he'd love a grand celebration. But I would think he would end up eloping with you.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
I imagine Shang Tsung is good at pretending to be gentle, to the point of near sickly sweetness. Pretending is far too easy for him, but being sincere is harder. Being genuine with one's emotion is a struggle for him since all his life he has learned to manipulate others for his own gain. To be gentle with no intent behind him is hard to feel real. He can place an arm around you, allow you to cry into his shoulder and say the sweetest things, but I imagine it'd take a long time for him to feel like the actions and words he is doing and saying are real without ill intent, even if you feel like it is. Overall, knows how to be gentle with all his actions and words, but at first there is a certain warmth behind him. Over time, as he falls for you, there will be that little flame.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
I like to think Shang Tsung is open to hugs. Moreso in private than public. Public, he'd sling an arm around your lower back or waist and stick to your side. In private, I imagine he'd drape himself over you much like I mentioned in cuddles. His hugs are loose. But if he is ever overwhelmed with a moment of love, he would give you the tightest squeeze you wouldn't even think he'd be capable of.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
To say "I love you" sincerely would take very, very long for Shang Tsung. It is easy to say "I love you" as a ploy, as a way to get people to fall and fawn in order to do what he wants. He's willing to play the heartfelt lover if it gives him the upper hand. To say it sincerely, would feel like, to him, that he is admitting that he gained a weakness. He would have to trust you with nearly his life to say it in a way that he means it. Even when he does muster the courage to admit that he is, indeed, in love, Shang Tsung doesn't say it often or in public (unless it is to show off). But when he does, every single time it is filled with all the love he has for him.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Shang Tsung is not very easily jealous. He is self assured, and he trusts you. If he ever does get jealous, he would be very passive aggressive. Snide remarks and pointed glares directed at the other person all veiled with a sickly charismatic smile. He'd wrap an arm around your waist and pull you to his side, using his body language to showcase that you two are together.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Kisses with Shang Tsung vary. I imagine he'd do the very polite kisses like the kiss on the hand, on the forehead, etc. In public, if he ever does those kisses, they may be a tad dramatic to showcase the relationship. But it'd take a long time for a true kiss to come from him, and he'd very rarely do such things in public. But kisses with him are soft, precise, careful. Almost as if he is preventing himself from truly kissing you, as if kissing you with all his vigor would burn him. He would prefer kisses on his cheeks, or generally on his face.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Shang Tsung understands children and knows how to handle them. But he doesn't like them, or at least at first. He thinks they're snobby, messy, etc. Even still, he knows how to lull them into a state of calm just because he is that charismatic. I imagine it'd take having a child of his own (or adopting one of his own) to have him actually like/love a child. But I think he'd need his partner to help him along that journey. Because then, he would understand why exactly parents go on this journey for their kids...even if they are a little snobby messes.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Shang Tsung like to preen himself in the morning, making sure he is presentable. In the beginnings of his relationship, he would probably make sure to always wake up before his partner so they would never see him unkempt. Later on, he would become perhaps a little more relaxed and allow his lover to see a bit of bedhead as he kisses them sweetly on the forehead and goes along his morning routine. He enjoys calmer mornings.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Nights are spent calmly in each others presence. He will probably be experimenting or reading a book in peace with you. Some chatter will be tossed around, here and there, but he enjoys a quiet night with you. I'd like to imagine he stays up late yet wakes up early, how he is able to seem so composed by doing both it is a mystery. If you fall asleep earlier than him, he will take a break to see you go to bed. Before he returns back to his business, he will press a tender kiss to your forehead. If you stay up, he will give you a pleasant smile and lead you to bed, pulling you in for a bit of cuddling.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
You will be waiting for a long, long while. That is assuming he will even tell you the truth. Shang Tsung requires trust in you before he can reveal the more personal things about himself. On top of being secretive, he does not enjoy others having something they can use against him. It may take years, if he does decide to do it. It'll be little bits and pieces, and you'll have to piece them together yourself. It is even doubtful if he will even tell you the whole truth, like how he got his powers and who he was before that.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Shang Tsung is a schemer, he is willing to wait for the perfect moment for his plans to fall into place. I imagine this patience transfers over. However, I imagine the one thing he cannot stand is lack of competency with common sense. He'd sneer and be very smug about those types of things, unless he is acting, then he'd act like a saint. With you, his lover, he'd be very patient though. Even if he does find something a little stupid from your lips, he'd probably find it somewhat charming.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
I feel like Shang Tsung would remember a lot. Due to his schemes, he would have to pick up on the little things one mentions to use it in the future. It is no different here, but for a less nefarious purpose. Don't be surprised if your favorite flower, which you mentioned once, appears upon your nightstand, or your favorite dessert is magically there for dinner.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
For how over the top Shang Tsung can feel at times with his gestures (or at least, with how he projects himself to others) his fondest moment is one of the most mundane things possible. It was just you and him, sitting and enjoying a calm night. He looked up and saw you were occupied, but you looked ethereal as ever. A small smile on your face, the way the lights hit your face...there was nothing magical or special about that moment, but he ties it with the moment that he realized that you actually cared about him. He'd never admit this is his favorite memory though, he'd probably lie and say his favorite memory is something more grand. But still, his heart cannot lie.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
I think Shang Tsung would be protective of you. You alone are one of his very few weaknesses. To see you harmed would be a travesty and probably effect him more than he'd like to admit. Shang Tsung knows there are plenty who would like to take him down, and he's fine with that. He just doesn't want you dragged into his messes, even if you can take care of yourself. He would make sure that the people you associate with are genuine, and that you both are in secure locations. You don't need to protect him, he is very much capable, but the thought of you warning him for any potential threats to him does send his heart aflutter.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
A tremendous amount. Shang Tsung would put much thought and effort into every single one of those. Whether it be by how grand or how thoughtful it is, it shows. Gifts for you would be the things you've mentioned, or the things he's simply noticed. For example, if you were to ever finish a book that he knows is in a series, the moment you would finish that book, the next one in the series would be conveniently there. I believe Shang Tsung likes the idea of grand gestures, but he would probably excel the best in the more subtle ones.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Shang Tsung has plenty of nasty little habits. Keeping secrets that he should probably tell you, trying to pry for more information than he should at times, haggling with things he shouldn't, being far too ambitious and trying to play for himself. etc. things that are left over from his scheming days. Don't take it personally, he doesn't mean to do these things to you, but they are well, habits.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Looks are very important to him. Or at least, or himself. He likes to leave a lasting impression on people, and he would dislike that one to be anything less than a grand threat. Making sure he is pristine, has a reputation he enjoys, etc. all plays into this. His apparel is all carefully chosen, and how he portrays himself is important.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
At first, no. But along the lines of the relationship, he would get attached without even realizing it. He would realize his attachment to you, but not the extent of it until too late. To admit this weakness is something he would probably not do unless you catch him in an especially affectionate mood.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Shang Tsung has very well manicured and soft hands. Just from them alone, you would not be able to tell he once lived a life of struggle. He would prefer it that way. And yet, if you're very aware, you may feel the slightest hint of callouses from his previous lifestyle. He would never explain them and deny that he even has them.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Slobs. He cannot be seen around them. He understands a bit of mess, his workstation is not organized at all, but to show it on yourself...Shang Tsung also doesn't quite like people with no ambition. Where is the drive to be better? He doesn't quite understand. He would probably think you're too soft and privileged to not want for something more.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Shang Tsung, I'd like to imagine, is almost eerily still in his sleep. Once he lays in a position, he doesn't move. Barely even twitches. I imagine he is also a light sleeper, being able to wake in case someone tries to pull a fast one on him. So if you move a lot, he may have a bit of an issue with that.
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syrena-del-mar · 8 months
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Very Rarely Do Men Know How to Be Altogether Good or Altogether Wicked
The last five minutes of today's episode left my mouth gaping, it really felt like I was watching a catastrophic accident happen in front of me and I just couldn't look away.
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I wasn't completely sure on how Sand was going to learn about Ray and Mew's history, but I sure wasn't expecting that Ray's feelings would be exposed in such a volatile way. Maybe I’m in the minority here, I’m not exactly sure because I’m seeing a mixed bag of reactions, but I don’t necessarily agree that Sand ever needed to find out about Ray’s feelings for Mew. Much less from Boston.
This is partially going to be a bit of a continuation of my thoughts that Boston has a Machiavellian personality, followed up with SandRay's relationship becoming the unsuspecting 'victim'. Again, I'll be using pulling from Machiavelli's The Prince, but I'm also using his work Discourses on Livy. [Title credit to ch. 27 of Discourses]
Boston, still the Machiavellian 'Prince'
“Another difficulty to be added to the one mentioned above is that a state that becomes free creates for itself enemies rather than friends.”
― Niccolò Machiavelli, Discourses on Livy
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Let me be upfront, I don't hate Boston, I actually enjoy the chaos he brings, but he's a fascinating character to break down and really analyze his actions. The last five minutes was, in my opinion, the most chaos that he has caused out in the open. This was never a situation of Boston 'saying what needed to be said.' This was Boston seeing an opportunity to take control of someone and doing so by unfairly outing Ray's feelings. I, again, stand by the idea that Boston is not a narcissist, but rather a Machiavellian personality type. This doesn't make him a 'villain'; Only Friends does a good job at showing that there are no villains in real life, just incredibly shitty people. Boston is simply a dick, who chooses to play with his friends to feel a sense of control when he doesn't have it. Has he ever cared for his friends? Does he keep them around simply for convenience? Hard to say. That doesn't make him evil, it just makes him a first-class jackass.
In my post where I had stated that he was more of a Machiavellian rather than narcissist, I came to the conclusion that, 'In his viewpoint, he is the kingpin, even in his group of friends, because he believes that he's the one that controls how his friends move since he knows how Mew is developing feelings for Top and is aware of Ray's feelings for Mew.' This time around, he practically admits it right after purposefully revealing Ray's feelings for Mew, "I just want to keep track of my best friends' romantic moments.' Boston hoards information so that he can throw it in people's faces when it fits him the best, there's no 'good intentions' on his keeping tabs on his friends.
Boston knows that TopMew are going to sleep together, they're serious and he's out of the running. Is it simply ego or is it because of self-interest? Whatever the catalyst is, he essentially has nothing holding him back anymore. He's seeing his "friends" getting "serious", while he's out there dealing with known (and unknown) filming of one-night stands he had being used as revenge porn. That'd hurt and anger anyone, but from what has been shown, Boston thrives off of control and so having his sex life used against him would feel like an even bigger blow. They're minor events that are snowballing and Boston likely needs to feel that control again. It's why he pushes Nick down without a second thought when Nick is trying to pull him away (opposed to how Ray lets Sand pull him back). So he claims that control back, he deliberately reveals what he knows, purposefully taking Ray down with him. While he may be feeling like shit, at least he'll be better off than Ray, who's left to pick up the pieces.
Sand and Ray, the intentional destruction of the 'kingdom'
“In general you must either pamper people or destroy them; harm them just a little and they’ll hit back; harm them seriously and they won’t be able to. So if you’re going to do people harm, make sure you needn’t worry about their reaction.” ― Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince
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Yes, Sand and Ray are in a “situationship.” Yes, they’re constantly getting both physically and emotionally closer. Yes, Sand is developing feelings for Ray (arguably vice versa too). But that’s it. They started off as friends with benefits and while they’ve been shifting around, neither one has fully crossed that line. There was no defined area in the relationship, at least not before the implosion. They’re barely getting to know each other, Sand even calls Ray out because he knew that Ray had never noticed him before, not in a way other than just the Bar Performer.
Ray is working through who he is without Mew, without his crush on Mew. He's come to the realization that while he put Mew as his #1 for many years, he's knows he's not that for Mew, and is slowly coming to the realization that he may have never been. These are his feelings to work out and his alone. Sand and Ray are first and foremost friends, as they had agreed upon and they happen to hook up often. This was what they agreed upon. Even if one or both of them are catching feelings, it does not mean that Ray has an automatic obligation to come clean to Sand.
Arguably, Boston was unaware of this set up, but honestly he didn't need to know. This was not his business, Boston didn't suddenly spill the fact that Ray has had feelings for Mew for years to look out for Sand. No, this was an intentional hit on Ray, where he was positive that it would hurt. Boston has repeatedly used Ray's feelings for Mew for his own convenience (Exhibit A: Meddling at the pool party), whether it be to get Ray to react in a certain way or to have a punching bag. He knew how defensive and reactive Ray would get when he brought up RayMew's kiss and supposed sex (was this ever confirmed?) that they had.
Boston speaks in definite presumptions when he talks about others, he does this to Top and he did it to Ray. He spins realities to how he sees fit and with the confidence that he speaks in, he makes others believe him. It's why Mew never questioned that Top is accustomed to sleeping around and didn't think that Top really wanted anything more than sex, because that's what Boston specifically told him that Top was like. It's why now Sand believes that he has no hour in Ray's life, even when Ray gives him the opening to ask more, because Boston purposefully spoke in definite terms. Even the most secure person would be left feeling unsure and unbalanced.
So when Sand, who knows that their relationship is based on being friends with benefits, is confronted with words from Ray's supposed friend who explicitly states that Ray is in love with Mew and that he's being used as a rebound, what else can he do but believe that?
What little trust and rapport that they had started to build up has come crumbling down. They're frantically gathering the pieces of a 'kingdom' that has been turn into dust, the aftermath of the Prince's wrath. It's why Ray scrambles for the bottle and it's why Sand shuts down. How can they react to what Boston did, when they're struggling to salvage the little remnants left behind of what was supposed to be a blossoming relationship?
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cinnamonsikwate · 4 months
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i'm really curious about what marcille's mother's deal is. seems like she's not too big on the rest of elven society. here's what we know about her so far:
mage at a human royal court (adventurer's bible)
courtship with marcille's father donato lasted 17 years (adventurer's bible)
specialty is roast pork, which was also donato's favorite (chapter 81)
had a cheerful personality up until the point donato got too sick to eat his favorite food. her extreme emotional reaction to this left a lasting impression on marcille (chapter 81)
remarried to a gnome and moved away from the city at some point after donato died (adventurer's bible)
several portraits of her appear in marcille's nightmare (chapter 42); this is the second time we see marcille dream of her (chapter 3)
preferred non-elven food and didn't introduce marcille to any traditional elven dishes (chapter 74)
from the canaries' reactions in chapter 74, it appears elven society looks down on elves who go to live among and work for short-lived races. they seemed especially put off that she would have a mixed-blood child. when they're talking about the lyrikmumare to get marcille to trip up, marcille envisions her mother saying that the food "here" (i.e., the northern continent) tastes so much better. so the picture we're getting here is of an elf who has removed herself from elven culture, but the question is, did she do it willingly or was she forced to?
keeping her other actions in mind, i'm leaning more towards the former. the most intriguing thing for me is that she eventually married a gnome, despite elves and gnomes having infamously waged war against each other over differences in the practice of magic and presently tending to discriminate against the other on sight. (one thing's for sure — marcille's mother is winning the idgaf war!)
marcille never talks about her gnome stepfather though, and it's unclear what she thinks of her mother's remarriage. the timing of the remarriage is also a mystery. donato married marcille's mother when he was 32 (after having courted her for 17 years) and died at 82, meaning they were married for 50 years. marcille is also currently 50 years old, but we know she wasn't born immediately after the marriage: in chapter 81, donato's doppelganger says marcille was born when he'd started "getting on in years." based on marcille's memories of him and the established fact that the average tall-man lifespan is 60 years, i'd hazard that he was in his 50s then. this gives him 30 years or less with marcille — definitely less than 35, which we know is the age at which she left for the magic academy.
we don't know if marcille's mother remarries before or after marcille leaves (if before, than that's definitely a shockingly short time), but it's interesting that she chose to marry someone from a long-lived race this time. maybe this is her way of ensuring she spares herself another heartbreak? or maybe she *is* still heartbroken and is trying to cover it up.
but. i can't help but kind of agree with chilchuck in chapter 81, that marcille's parents are not blameless for marcille becoming the dungeon lord. since it's apparently well-documented, they surely must have known — as well-educated people — that mixed-blood children face not just discrimination but also mental anguish that comes with their unstable aging (not to mention the sterility). so the way they raised marcille feels frankly irresponsible 😭
anyway. i'd love to get spin-off content where post-adventure marcille and her mother meet again. i feel like there's a lot of unresolved issues there (that can of course be hashed out over a good meal).
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