#and then to know so many people have no appreciation for it at all

[genderqueerdykes]

just kind of throwing this at your wall, sorry in advance. saw the post about "kill all men" and got really upset

im a trans guy. my boyfriend is cis, and im the first guy hes dated before. (sees me fully as whatever i want to be, does not care about my gender expression and loves me for me. great guy). he doesnt have many friends from being asocial as a teenager, so most of his friends are my trans friends!

of course. like every trans group seems to fall prey to, theres always the "all [CIS] men are bad" conversation that comes up somehow. and i never really thought much of it, because in my head itd be "ah yeah all men Except My Boyfriend"

but he and i were talking after some drinks, and he made a point that really struck me. about how he doesn't like being The Exception to the point, that he's still a man and has no interest in being anything But a man. so when people say stuff like that, he gets uncomfortable; not because He IS The Problem (like everyone who gives the "if youre saying not all men, youre the men" argument) but because it makes him feel ostracized from everyone. and idk, it really struck me.

we say stuff like that way too often in an attempt to exclude certain groups of people; and i feel like we end up excluding people close to us by proxy.

thanks for listening

i really appreciate you for taking the time to send this. i've been meaning to talk about this and have been forgetting. the following is of course not directed at you, anon, it is directed at people who behave like this

you're not feminist, progressive, cool, pro-queer rights or funny for saying "kill all men". you are exposing that you are a violent and dangerous person for believing that people should be profiled and literally killed for their gender or PERCEIVED gender.

this doesn't make people like you more. it outs you as a danger. how do we know you won't turn that hatred toward women whenever you feel like changing the goalposts? i can't trust someone like that to not turn that hatred toward other genders, either. YOU are the dangerous person you are profiling men as. you can't use men as a scapegoat for everything. sometimes YOU are the violent person who needs help.

your boyfriend shouldn't have to feel like that. like people have never really cared about gay men but people just straight up gave up all pretenses that they do and i hate it. cis men are not inherently evil. cis men can still be queer. cis men can still be good people. your boyfriend shouldn't have to feel isolated because he's cis. that's profiling. he belongs. why do people assume that everyone with a partner who is a man hates them? not everyone is choosing to be in a relationship with someone they hate. i understand that some people will date someone no matter who just to have a partner so they're not lonely, but not everyone does this. some people genuinely love their boyfriends

i'm sorry you both have dealt with this. i hope things can improve because men don't deserve to feel like this. this is why toxic masculinity exists in the first place. we have to stop reinforcing that men are evil monsters. they won't stop believing that if we keep telling them that forever. stay safe. your boyfriend is not a bad person & deserves to have a wonderful life.

[daycourtofficial]

Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one - part five

Pairing: Eris x Azriel x reader | WC: 6k | warnings: general angst, canon violence, blood, loose medical stuff that likely doesn’t make sense

Summary: avoiding Azriel only works for so long when he uses Rhysand to get you to see Eris one more time. You’re more than shocked when your meeting is ambushed, wounds making you reconsider things.

A/N: we’re insecure, and we don’t know what for! Anyway please enjoy 💕

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After Azriel had left you in the bathroom, you stood there for what had to have been hours, the last remnants of his warmth clinging to the air around you. You had never felt so alone, his rejection an intense sting you were certain branded your soul.

Your chest felt heavy with his presence. At some point in the night you had finally figured out how to shut him out. The iron was heavy as it shackled your heart, cutting off the mate who was supposed to protect you, not knowing he was who you needed protection from.

Sleep didn’t come to you that night and it was a battle the next night to sleep for even a few hours. Your mind felt stale and stagnated, yearning for the fixation that was his journals. Azriel had given the most recent one to you just before rejecting you, not even having the chance to crack the spine yet. His confession that Eris was above you still stung too much.

You spent most of your time outside of work now laying in bed, unable to stop your thoughts from analyzing every angle of your entire relationship with Azriel. You hardly slept, no idea how much time had passed in the stillness of your grief.

Rotting in bed was an option both Nesta and the House did not appreciate - the latter stopped giving you full meals, the former making her way into your room this afternoon informing you that you would be seen at dinner so she had proof you were alive and eating.

The last people you wanted to see were happily mated couples, practically rubbing their mateship in your face just by existing. The Mother was surely testing you in some way, and you weren’t sure if you could handle the outcome of failing.

You had left your room one singular night during your solitude. The moon had been bright through the windows as you snuck to the library, leaving a note for Clotho to deliver a book on failed mating bonds to your room in the House of Wind.

It was an unusual request, but you knew Clotho would do it. You spent many nights in the library pouring over textbooks, dropping off various sweets for Clotho and the other priestesses in offering and thanks for their help.

By the next afternoon the book was on your bedside table, placed there by the house no doubt to ease your embarrassment from the nosey eyes of Cassian. Now the book on broken bonds sat on top of the last journal you had gotten from Azriel, taunting you with your future within its pages.

They were all going to find out eventually that Azriel had rejected you, but that left you in an even more impossible situation. Reaching out for comfort from your friends meant Azriel’s secret mating with Eris became public knowledge. No matter how mad or upset you were with the both of them, that was a line you refused to cross.

Would Nesta and Cassian kick you out? If Azriel didn’t want you, surely you’ve lost the friendships you’ve made the past few years with his family?

Maybe you’ll move to Spring. Tamlin surely won’t notice if you just picked a spot and built a house.

You put your head in your hands, wanting to claw the possibilities out to find which one would save you from this grief.

Your self imposed isolation hadn’t kept you safe from seeing Azriel. You had asked Cassian to fly you home from work, a job he did with delight. You avoided dinners, changed your entire schedule to maximize your potential to avoid him.

And yet you’d pass him in the hallway, see him in the stairs, and find him in the kitchen. He was everywhere, each appearance only pissing you off further. Every time you ignored him, even going so far as to bump him with your shoulder when passing by.

But he never said anything. Just looked in your direction, his eyes not catching the light like they used to. His shadows don’t even follow you around anymore. They clung to Azriel like a second skin as if holding him upright.

Were you a failure? Had any other fae had such a short mating? Was it even truly a mating?

Your anger had been simmering for a while, but now as you descended the steps to dinner, your rage was palpable, nearly carrying it with you like Azriel does with his shadows. You craved it, needed it to hold you through seeing him, having to pretend he hasn’t laughed in the face of the Mother and carved out your heart.

But your anger was for naught as you approached the dining room. Azriel wasn’t there amongst the faces of his family, a rarity for the House of Wind. Usually dinners consisted of Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel, but tonight Rhys and Feyre were in attendance, a small Nyx situated on Feyre’s left.

Your fury tampered down, taking it off the heat and letting it cool down as you walked in, all eyes turning to you.

“Just in time! Now can we eat, Nes?” Cassian was impatient, his fork already in hand, clearly waiting for the second you showed up.

“Let her sit down first, Cassian.” Rhysand laughed. “Or perhaps you’re going to gnaw on her legs, hm?”

The growl of Cassian’s stomach rippled through the air, his body’s own testament to the discomfort it felt.

“Go ahead and dig in, I wouldn’t want Cassian to starve.” Cassian let out a ‘thank you’ between mouthfuls as you sat across from Nesta. She watched as you sat, her eyes tracking as you picked up the tongs to plate your food. She didn’t relax until you began eating, and even then it was only enough for her to eat.

You watched her watch you, confused about her intensity, not even paying attention to Rhys and Feyre’s light teasing of each other.

It was wonderful that they had happiness with each other. Good for them. You stabbed your chicken with a bit more force, chewing slowly, putting on a show for whatever Nesta was watching for.

“Azriel should be back in time tomorrow.” It was almost comical how quickly your ears tuned into the conversation at his name.

“In time for what? What’s going on tomorrow?” It was the first words you had spoken, and you didn’t notice the glances they all shot to each other. Rhys turned his attention to you, violet eyes kind as he spoke.

“You and Azriel will be seeing Eris tomorrow.”

“We are?” The incredulity of your tone could be heard from streets away, other family dinners halting at the annoyed tone that floated on the breeze.

“Yes, he told me Eris is quite chatty with you. Azriel left word that Eris had something important to share and that it was urgent the two of you met with him.”

You blinked a few times, trying to push your anger aside to make way for the bewilderment. Had Eris called for this? Or was it Azriel, finally wishing to put an end to this?

Your heart hammered, the string around it pulsating tighter, worried it would be broken and left unraveled to slosh around inside your chest for eternity.

“Maybe Eris likes you.” Cassian made kissing sounds at you. Your eyes remained fixed on Rhysand, as if the longer you looked the more answers you’d get. He tilted his head, the slight caress of a claw tapping onto your mental shields the only thing to get you out of your trance.

“Don’t be gross, Cass.” Feyre chided despite her giggles. “I don’t think he’s capable of enjoying anything.”

“Eris likes fresh blood.”

“So did Amren.”

“Rhys, I’m not sure if I should go.” You broke up their joking, finally responding to Rhys’s prodding. You were pleading with your High Lord, trying to make him understand you can’t.

“I know he’s a bit much, but if Azriel’s right and Eris has some soft spot for you, it’d be in our best interest to exploit it.”

How far Cassian had been from the truth. Eris would delight in nothing more than ripping out your arteries with his teeth.

You nodded silently, looking back to your plate, pushing the peas around. You don’t say another word, you’re not even keeping watch of Nesta before retiring for the evening.

-

Rhysand hadn’t given you a time to expect to leave, so you spent the morning working with Madja, telling her you’d have to leave at noon to attend to some affairs Rhysand had asked of you. The older fae was annoyed, her wrinkles deepening, but she kept her mouth shut before walking off, muttering something about young males in power.

A few patients had come in, mostly to have previous injuries checked for an all clear. The cold snap in Velaris had left several fae slipping on ice, many twisted ankles keeping you busy the past few weeks.

You left promptly at noon, saying goodbye to Madja before heading out. Seeing your most recent patients had you checking every step for ice, ensuring sure footing before fully putting your weight down as you headed to the end of the road, already seeing the tips of Cassian’s wings.

You bundled yourself in your coat, burying your face into your scarf as you began mentally preparing yourself for seeing Azriel. Eris you could handle - he was cruel, but manageable. He never pretended to be something he wasn’t. But Azriel kept popping in and out, handling you delicately and with care before shattering you unexpectedly. Your heart was beating faster at the thought of seeing him, while also sinking deep into your stomach.

Your eyes followed the cobblestones, being mindful of any patches of ice, too busy to notice until you were right in front of him that it wasn’t Cassian you had seen. His blue chest siphon m was the first thing you saw, a soft expletive leaving your lips before you could stop it.

“Hello to you too.”

You finally looked up, his shadows peeking out from the collar of his leathers, tracing up his neck in beautiful patterns. You nodded in greeting.

“Where’s Cassian?”

“We’re heading straight for Spring, so I told him I could come by and get you.”

It was painfully silent as the two of you stood there, Azriel’s head moving constantly to try to catch your eye. His annoyance flared up in your chest, and you were too absorbed in it to shut it down.

“Talk to me.” His voice was pleading, but with a sharp edge.

“I don’t want to.” Your tone was petulant, a childishness to it that was uncommon.

“Why not?”

“You’ve made your opinion of me very clear. Besides, don’t you need Eris’s permission to talk to me first?” He sighed, the siphon on his chest glowing slightly. “Surely he’ll be upset you had to hold onto me to winnow here. Maybe he’ll have soap on hand to scrub your hands of me once and for all.”

“You’re being childish.”

“Can we just get this over with? I know why we’re here and I don’t exactly want to linger for a long time.”

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at the curtness in your tone, but you couldn’t be bothered with niceties anymore. You were exhausted of chasing after him, begging for his attention, just for it to always be on Eris. The sooner this was over, the sooner you could move on.

He reached his hands out, gently scooping you into his arms. You took care not to dive nose first into his neck like last time, not wanting his scent to overpower you or make you spiral further.

The bond inside of you was rattling in your ribcage, desperate for you to fight, to snark, to do something to get Azriel’s attention. But you blocked it out, only looking ahead for the entirety of the flight.

The two of you landed in the familiar spot, an earthy scent clinging to the air. The spot was empty, and you felt Azriel’s stomach drop in disappointment at the knowledge through the bond. Your hand rubbed across your face before you quickly tampered down the bond, not wanting to know how they’re feeling about this.

The two of you waited for several minutes. The chittering of the forest was loud, heightening the awkward silence. It was so green and bright in Spring, the plant growth nearly blinding after the intense snowfall Night had been experiencing.

You felt Azriel’s eyes on you, hazel irises unwilling to depart from your form. Your name was a soft exhale from his lips, a pleading tone that would have sent past you spiraling. It only furthered your resolve.

“Don’t do that. I’m only here out of duty to Rhysand. My High Lord asked this of me, and frankly, it’ll likely be the last time Eris ever sees me.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means I’m done. Clearly the Mother was wrong and clearly you and Eris both know that. It’s just taken me until now to figure that out myself.”

“That’s not true.”

You finally looked at him. Your beautiful, beautiful mate, who had always been so kind to you. He had been nothing more than a charade, a carefully crafted story to deter from his actual mate. You straightened your shoulders to gather your words, trying to voice your exact thoughts.

“No, Azriel. I’m done being your second choice, I’m done being strung along. I don’t want that for me, and as my mate, you shouldn’t want it either. So treat me with the respect I deserve and recognize I’m only here because of Rhys’s asking. You and Eris have made your opinions of me very clear.”

Azriel opened his mouth, but rage flew from yours. The dam had broken, and now a flood was headed directly for the shadowsinger.

“Was it just so I wouldn’t say anything about you and Eris? Was that why you kept stringing me along? Keep your precious bond between you and Eris, keep it to yourselves, I no longer want any part of it.” It felt incredible to say the words aloud, to try to get the point across. But his face twisted with anger, his wings twitching behind him.

“You were never just a secret keeper. You’re my friend, you’re important to me. I told you about Eris in an effort to show you something! I’m trying to reprioritize, but it’s hard.”

For the first time in ages, a shadow moved from Azriel’s body, swirling around you. You were too caught up to notice the little thing, its attempts to calm you down failing.

“Azriel, when have you ever prioritized me? Every time something happens, you’re gone.”

“What do you want me to do? Eris is my mate.”

“And what am I?”

The question cut through Azriel, slicing between his ribs, the pain fracturing through his chest. He didn’t get a chance to reply before Eris materialized in the woods.

Eris was in more regal attire now, a vest covering his tunic that was likely thousands of hours of embroidery. The stiff collar made his jawline seem sharper, his features even more cutting in such regalia. Eris blended into the trees, making the natural world bend a knee to his beauty.

“I see the two of you are incapable of leaving me alone.” He didn’t even look at the pair of you, looking instead at his manicured nails. Filed to a point, the red polish made it look as if blood were dripping from his fingertips.

“Eris, stop.”

“It’s fine, Azriel. I came on your invitation, after all. What is this most pressing matter?”

“We need to talk.”

“Think of that all by yourself?”

“Shut up, Eris. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know anything going on in your life as of late.”

You looked up, surprised at that tidbit. Maybe you weren’t the only one uncertain of where you stood with the shadowsinger.

“I’m trying to figure it out, Eris.” Azriel’s words were icy, coming from some deep, dark depths of himself.

“What is there to figure out?”

The pause after Eris’s question was too still. The forest was quiet, all birdsong gone. Not even insect chittering to fill the gaps. The world was still outside of the three of you. You looked up into the canopy above you, a chill going down your spine.

“Azriel, I asked you-“

The sound that cut off Eris was a quick burst of wind as an arrow came whizzing past. Azriel was the first to move, pushing you onto the ground, his body laying on top of yours, sheltering you. You pushed against him, trying to get up, trying to see, but he wasn’t budging. Panic flooded you as his wings formed a cocoon around the two of you, what should have been a womb of safety felt more like a cage.

Wood splintered as arrows hit trees, impossible to tell how many fae were targeting the three of you. It sounded like hundreds of arrows, each whizzing past at speeds that could easily kill.

Your breathing quickened as a new worry overtook you: had Azriel been shot? Was he injured?

And where was Eris?

Azriel grunted into your ear, his body jolting. His arms cradled your head, not even a slither of light coming through. This darkness was so different from the one that followed Azriel. It felt nearly suffocating, not even his shadows pittered about in it. It felt cold and hopeless

You could hear the roar of flames beyond the shelter of Azriel’s body, the crackling getting closer to the pair of you. Sweating and breathing heavy, it felt like Azriel’s body weighed even more. You tried to push him off again, but your ragged breathing made it even harder.

Something reached through Azriel’s body, a warm touch gripping your wrist. A flicker of light made it through, not enough for you to see anymore than a blinding white. Suddenly the world shifted, the mud beneath you hardening into wood floors. Azriel’s body was heavier now, his weight digging into you.

“Push.” A muffled voice came from somewhere beyond Azriel, nearly muffled by his body. Fear struck through you - was this whoever had ambushed you? Was Azriel the intended target and you were simply a bystander?

Or was Eris the target, carted off to some court while they dealt with the witnesses?

Despite the panic, your heart tugged in the direction of the voice, practically guiding your arms to push Azriel from you. As you did, more and more light filtered to your eyes, his shadows clinging tight to his body, securing their master’s wounds.

Pale hands wrapped around Azriel’s torso, and you thought you’d never be so happy to see the ring clad fingers of the Vanserra. It took a moment, but Eris was able to lift Azriel enough for you to crawl out from beneath him.

You glanced over Eris, the only injury to be seen were cuts on his face and arms. Relief flooded you at the sight of him, your breaths still shallow. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins, only speeding up with the lack of danger. The cabin was dark around you, the place seeming more empty than when you were here last.

“Aren’t you a healer?” Eris had been speaking to you for several moments by this point, his words a buzzing you couldn’t make out until now.

“Yes.”

“Then help him.”

You were frozen, unable to do anything other than look at your hands. You had never been in combat before - during the Battle of Hybern you had been left in the city to run the clinic, the only one left behind.

Azriel’s blood was on your hands, sinking into your skin. Are your bones marked red now?

“Useless.” Eris was a wildfire, moving quickly down the hall before coming back, his arms full of tonics and bandages. The sight snapped you back, your thoughts coming in full force at what to do. You stood, moving quickly to stop Eris.

“Stop, you need to give him some pain medication first.” You rifled through the bottles and bits, each of Azriel’s labored breaths making your heart sink further and further.

“No, we need the arrows out of his back, they’re killing him.”

“I can give him some medicine to manage the pain first. Removing the arrows will mean we’ll have to act quick to stop the blood. It’s better to give him something for the pain now.” Your voice took a sharp edge, the commanding tone of someone in charge. “Then we take out the arrows in his wings.”

Eris’s face was hard as he looked toward you, no doubt hating you even more. Azriel dove to protect you - his state now should have been you. You found the bottle you needed, it’s not as strong as you’d like, but it’s the best you can do.

“Azriel, you have to swallow this.” Your hand gently caressed his cheek, letting him know someone was there. He slowly opened his mouth, allowing you to pour the purple liquid down it. The grimace he made almost made you laugh, like this were any other time, having him eat something unappetizing because Nesta had made it.

Fire stung at your fingers, but you ignored Eris as Azriel finished the potion.

“Okay, we need to trim off the tops of the arrows so we can pull them out more easily. Eris, find a knife and use your fire to sterilize it.”

He started to open his mouth, but you leveled him with a stare that had him quickly closing it.

“Are you going to waste our time by second guessing everything I tell you? If you bothered to let Azriel tell you anything you would know I work directly beneath the court’s healer and am quite competent.”

Eris’s sharp canines protruded from his mouth, a low growl emitting from him, but no more protests as he heated a knife.

“Az, we’re going to cut off the arrow heads and remove them from your wings. Can you stretch your wings out for me?” You rubbed your thumb across his cheek, trying to offer any tenderness he could hold onto.

He nodded so softly you hardly noticed it, his wing unfurling ever so slowly. It didn’t extend fully, but he got about three fourths of the way there.

“I’m going to help you stretch it out this last bit, okay? I need to see all of your wings to help.” You sent a light pulse of what you hoped was soothing down the bond before closing it off again, bending to rest on your knees as you sat in front of his left wing.

Several arrows had pierced through the delicate membrane, but only four remained caught in his wings. You swallowed down your guilt - it wasn’t what Azriel needed now. He needed Madja’s apprentice, not his rejected mate right now. You took a deep breath before extending his wing further, ignoring Azriel’s groans of pain.

“Eris, hold his wing taut.” The uncertainty slipped off like a second skin, making way for the commanding presence you took on for the care of your patients. Once Eris had his wing, you took the hot knife from his hand, quickly and methodically snipping off the heads of the arrows, making sure to hold the base to keep it stabilized before pulling each one out.

You pulled the wood slowly, trying to keep the wood from grazing his skin again. Each arrow went into a pile behind you until his left wing was clean of them, the holes they left the only reminder of them. The two of you repeated the process for his right wing, this one only having three arrows in it, the extraction going much more quickly.

“Is he still awake?” Eris shuffled before a grunt of agreement came from Azriel.

“Azriel, we have to move to the arrows on your back. It’s going to hurt, but we’re going to move fast.” You looked back to the bottles of potions Eris had found, searching for anything that could help Azriel clot faster or sanitize the wounds.

“Why didn’t we do his back first? It’s worse and the arrows are draining him.”

“Because I’m not sure how much blood he’s going to lose. It was a 50/50 gamble, either way.”

“A gamble? Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I know what I’m doing, Eris! I’m dealing with a squabbling family member who thinks they know better and are keeping me from my job. My job right now is to save his life, not argue with you over semantics. Now either shut up or get out.”

You don’t even watch to see his response, your attention solely on Azriel again. Your hands worked of their own accord, rubbing potions across his back, careful around the protruding arrows. You eventually looked up to find Eris just staring at you.

“Have him drink this.”

Eris took the vial, coaxing it down Azriel’s throat, murmuring softly to the shadowsinger.

“Do you have any towels or rags? We’ll need as many as you have.” Your hands felt down his back, his skin riddled with scars, each one telling a story. You couldn’t fixate on them - how the small nick by his third rib was made by steel a little over a century ago. The sideways gash across his fourth vertebrae made from a carbon blade roughly twenty years prior.

You focused on his current wounds, pinpointing how far the arrows have lodged themselves. You closed your eyes, feeling for his body. A path unfurled in your mind’s eye, following the layers of tissue and muscle the arrow penetrated.

Both arrows avoided the soft, delicate organs housed in his chest, but the longer they stayed inside, the likelihood they’d cause more damage to him.

“Eris, as I remove the arrows, I need you to immediately place rags on the wound. The arrow didn’t pierce any organs, but it cut through several veins. Is Azriel still awake?”

“Yes,” it came out as a croak, so different from Eris’s usual snark and calm.

Eris was ready as you pulled the arrow out, quick and unflinching. A spurt of blood followed the arrow, shooting onto you before Eris covered the wound.

“I can either move onto the next one or start trying to close this one up.” You were muttering to yourself, trying to decide on a course of action.

“The faebane in the arrowhead will make his healing take longer, it’d be better to pull it out.”

The faebane from the arrows was already swimming through Azriel’s bloodstream, but Eris was right - the sooner it comes out, the better for Azriel. You nodded to Eris.

“Right. Keep holding pressure while I pull this other one out. Then we’ll switch sides and I’ll start working on healing him.”

The second arrow was much messier, Eris’s rags darkening with blood much more quickly. The air held a copper tang that was getting stronger by the minute, your concern rising with it.

“Eris, do you know how to count heartbeats?” You don’t even watch for a response before you start explaining. “Count how many times his heart beats for a minute, and then keep repeating. After a few times you’ll know if his heart rate is steady or not.”

You focused on one wound at a time, magic making its way through Azriel’s skin, slowly stitching up the path of destruction the arrowhead forged. It was slow work, his body fighting against the faebane with every breath.

Every ten minutes or so you made Eris help Azriel drink water, hoping the fluids will help wash out the toxin. Each time he did, he’d also make a call out of Azriel’s heart rate.

Azriel remained unconscious, his heart rate changing drastically every few minutes. It had dropped quickly a time or two, causing Eris to panic, but Azriel’s heart rate never got below a threshold, always staying where it could manage.

The sun had set at some point, the cabin surrounded by darkness. Your hands ached from stillness, your joints crying out to move even just a little, but you refused, remaining steadfast. You were a conduit for the magic that lived inside you, magic that was slowly stitching Azriel back together again.

“Here.” Eris sat next to you, holding the cup of water before your face. You hadn’t heard him move, too focused on Azriel. You shook your head, pointedly looking down to your hands.

“I can’t.”

“I can help you.” You looked to find a new expression on his face, something you’re not sure anyone had ever seen on the male. As much as cruelty sharpened his cheekbones, the softness of his eyes made him nearly blinding in the moonlight. You nodded, unable to speak. He held the cup up to your lips, the cold liquid refreshing as it trailed down your throat. Your hands remained on Azriel, but you gulped down the entire cup, not realizing just how parched you were.

Eris pulled the cup away, settling in next to you. More time passed, all of it a blur as you kept your focus on Azriel. Neither of you spoke. Azriel’s face was pale, from blood loss or his shadows having gone missing, you’re not sure.

You slumped back against the couch, rolling your stiff neck. Azriel’s wounds weren’t perfectly healed, but your magic had repaired his blood vessels enough to allow you a break.

It was easy to get swept up in healing - you have a focus, a goal. You know what steps to take next. But as Azriel’s breathing remained strong and steady, yours became shallow. The reality of the day hitting you all at once, Eris’s warmth from next to you making you feel claustrophobic.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Your words were quiet, not much louder than Azriel’s breathing. He was still so close to you, his eyes closed as he laid there. He looked so peaceful.

A month ago you would have salivated at the idea of touching him for hours, but now the smell of his blood made you want to throw up the contents of your stomach.

“He’s yours, Eris. I can’t - you won. I’ll go away, move to the continent to be as far away as possible.” A soft confession that had been lingering in the back of your mind the whole day. You were foolish to believe you could best Eris, completely underestimating the deep well Azriel and Eris’s mating bond ran to.

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“You despise me. If you feel anything like I do, you want me gone.”

Eris was still, his heat nearly unbearable despite the distance between you two. It was so hard to breathe around him, as if he were drawing in all the air for himself.

“He doesn’t want me. I’m tired of fighting for his attention when his mind always goes back to you. He was my friend for so long, and the fact he can just toy with me like this.. I’m not sure how to handle it.”

All you could hear was Eris’s breathing, but you knew he was listening.

“He was my friend and now I’m- well, I don’t know what I am. He’s going to pick you, Eris. He doesn’t want me.”

The confession you had been holding so tight slipped from your tongue like silk. The words sent the bond in your chest into a chorus of screams, their agony the perfect soundtrack to your turmoil.

“Say the word and he’s yours.”

For once, Eris was quiet, no words coming from his mouth. He only shook his head, the movement so precise and imperceptible you thought you dreamt it. You looked back at Azriel, needing to prepare to winnow the two of you away.

Coated in his blood, you had to leave sooner rather than later - Rhysand is surely on the cusp of worry, and there was only so much explaining you could do without forfeiting the cabin.

You watched Eris as you grabbed Azriel’s hands, his eyes reflecting all the hurt you’ve felt the past few weeks. Eris was the easy choice to be mad at - you were tied to Azriel, Eris was just some male tethered to the other end of your mate. But watching him keep his gaze on Azriel, some part of your anger to the redhead cracked, allowing the words to come from you.

“I’ll bring him back to you. He’ll be okay.”

“Thank you.”

Eris’s face hardened as the world blurred, your grip on Azriel strong as the ground gave out beneath you, the wood flooring exchanged for the hard stone of the House of Wind. The two words followed you through space and time, ringing in your ears.

Those two words broke you completely, every ounce of sorrow and pain breaking through. There were no soft cries, only guttural wailing.

It was Nesta you saw first, having followed the loud commotion throughout the house. She found you gripping Azriel, softly crying out to him before she pulled deep in her chest to get Cassian’s attention.

She crouched next to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulder as fat tears rolled down your face.

The bond cried out in pain, practically pleading with you to change your decision, but you knew it was the right choice. Once he healed enough, you’d sever it. You had to. Someone had to put an end to the madness, and you could do what Azriel couldn’t.

Azriel almost died because of this stupid arrangement.

Too lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice when Cassian or Rhysand arrived, their voices indistinguishable to the inner anguish you felt. You were exhausted, your soul crying out in pain. You swore you could hear tiny cries echoing how you felt.

Through the thick fog of your thoughts, you heard Cassian’s voice clear as a bell.

“I bet Eris is behind this. Bastard tricked us.” You crouched over Azriel, becoming even more defensive of the Illyrian. It was a ridiculous stance, trying to shield him from his brother, but you couldn’t help it.

“It wasn’t Eris.” It came out more as a snarl that sent Cassian reeling back. “I don’t know who, but they- it was bad and- Eris winnowed us away to some clearing.”

Your pleas were gut wrenching, anger dissipating and making way for what you had pushed too far down to heal him.

“Azriel’s bandaged.”

“Eris left and got us supplies. He came back for us. He wouldn’t do this, you have to believe me.” You were sobbing now, clutching Azriel’s arm to your chest like that would fix everything. Your breaths were quick, bringing in enough air to sob once more.

“He didn’t - and Azriel-“ arms wrapped you from behind, gently pulling you into their embrace. The smell of leather and sweat enveloped you, Cassian’s strong arms slowly pulling you from Azriel.

You were blubbering now, mostly cries of Eris’s name over and over. You were scared and full of guilt for Azriel, but your mind kept playing that tender moment between Eris and Azriel over and over again. Your heart cried out for the redhead, a deep well of sadness that you had to pull him away from his mate.

Footsteps retreated away from you, but you reached out, clinging to Azriel’s sleeve to remind yourself he was still there.

Header by @tsunami-of-tears 💕

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If you want to be tagged or aren’t being tagged, let me know ❣️

A/N: if you’ve read this far, just know I’m a bit on the fence about this part so don’t be mean to me 🔫

[strwberri-milk]

How do you think the lnds boys would react if mc breaks up with them, and later, they find out the motive was that mc thinks she isn't good enough for them?

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Also, girl, how do you get the creativity to write so many requests? You're amazing! 🙃

i dont really have creativity im just good at following guidelines when people send requests and i can see how it plays out in my head lolol ty though <33

He's angry, upset, anything and everything. His mind is spinning as this revelation hits him. Rafayel and Sylus fought like crazy to try and keep you, ending up in even more arguments that just cemented in your desire to leave him because you hated that you were hurting him so much. Zayne and Xavier were stunned when you brought it up and just tried their best to delay the actual breaking up until one day you just up and left them with nothing but the memory of you.

He texts you and calls you immediately - even if you're blocked he has his ways of getting around it. Zayne is fairly calm about reaching out, sending you a message asking you to speak. In reality, he was losing his mind over this, wanting you to reply and desperately wanting to beg but also knowing that if he pushed too hard there was a good chance you wouldn't reply.

Rafayel is a spammer, of course. He keeps messaging you until you finally end up replying to him. Xavier and Sylus are in between - Sylus' messages are firm but he isn't blowing up your phone. Xavier is sending you more messages then Sylus, but they all sound so hurt you can't look at them without feeling like crying.

He will secure a meeting with you and this is going to be one of the few times you see him genuinely angry. He's quiet, watching your every move as his hands keep themselves busy. Thankfully, you don't feel like he's going to hurt you or yell at you but you do feel bad about how mad he is, weakly trying to explain that you were trying to do what would be best for him.

He shuts it down right away, telling you that he doesn't care what you think about yourself. He loves you and he wants you and if you're going to sabotage the one good thing he's been given he's not going to give up that easily this time. You know internally that he didn't really even give up easily the first time so you just kinda stay quiet, trying to figure out what you want to say to him.

Eventually he'd manage to convince you into giving the two of you a second chance. However, he does also tell you that he can't handle you self-sabotaging to such a drastic degree a second time. He's been running himself haggard since the first time you broke up with him and if you're insistent that you're not good enough for him to this degree he's going to start insisting on counseling in some form. He also does his best to show you and tell you how much he loves and appreciates you - even more so than before. You will be drowning in affection and there's literally nothing you can do about it.

[just1cefor4ll]

A rare kind of love

Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

warning. I don’t really know the reason of Dae-ho’s debt so I made something up other then that no warnings

genre. hurt comfort

Shadows stretched across the floor, where the sleeping figures of players shifted in their deep slumber, the tension in the room never ceasing, not even in their sleep. But being next to Dae-ho, keeping watch for the night as everyone else slept was something that brought you a bit of comfort even in these tough circumstances. Dae-ho sat a few feet away, his elbows on his knees, eyes quietly sweeping over the restless forms. You watched him for a moment, his calm and steady presence oddly warm in a place like this. It was strange how much trust you’d built with someone you barely knew—someone you’d met under conditions that could kill you both.

“You know,” you said finally, breaking the silence, “I used to stay up late like this back at home. Not for anything important—mostly just lying in bed, stressing over things I couldn’t fix.” You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Guess that habit didn’t really help me in the long run.”

“I could say the same thing about myself. The marines made me develop insomnia so I never really slept after i got back— but I guess I’ve gotten a bit better with the help of my sisters” He replied, giving you a soft smile which you returned with a hint of curiosity in your eyes. “You have sisters? How many?” “Four. All of them are older and I’m thankful to them for being who I am now.. though I can’t say everyone in my family is proud of how I turned out.” It was like his mask had faltered for a split second, his shoulders slumping and eyes looking like a disappointed child.

You didn’t push further, staying in comfortable silence, only the soft snores os players and shuffling of those who were having nightmares in their beds.

“Sorry uh—“ “[Name] [Last Name]” You cut him off with a smile but make a shh gesture with your pointer finger. “Don’t let the others know my name, only you and Jun-hee are the ones I trust to the fullest with this information.” You wink playfully before letting him go on— his face starstruck as you looked at him with a face no one has ever looked at him with. “Right, [Name]. How’d you end up in here? I mean you seem pretty smart to me so proper education is something you have no doubt.. so?”

You hesitated, wondering if you should even say it. But what was the point of holding back now? It wasn’t like secrets mattered in a place like this. “Debt.. a lot of it. Just like everyone here I made bad choices, bad timing… one thing snowballed into another. And then—” You paused, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. “Well, here I am.” You smile sheepishly, but your once beaming energy did die down a bit. “I was a psychologist.. It payed very well but with my poor choices and actions I lost my job and I fell into the arms of gambling where I lost it all.”

He didn’t interrupt, letting you keep talking.

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “I figured I’d win back just enough to cover everything. I thought, ‘What’s the harm in trying?’” You shook your head. “Turns out, the harm is a mountain of debt and a bunch of very angry people coming after you. Then my mom got sick, and the hospital bills started piling up. Insurance only covered so much, you know? So, I started taking out loans to keep up.” You leaned back against the rail, staring at the ceiling as the memories came rushing back

He didn’t say anything right away, just nodded slowly, his expression was sympathetic and no hint of judgment was evident either which you appreciated.

“I was out of options,” you continued, your voice softer now. “So when this… game showed up, I thought, ‘Why not? I’ve got nothing left to lose.’”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence. Then, Dae-ho spoke, his voice calm but edged with something you couldn’t quite place. “It’s easy to fall into, isn’t it? Debt. Mistakes. Feels like one bad move and your whole life spirals out of control.” “Yeah,” you said, glancing over at him. “Something like that. What about you? How’d you end up in the marines is my first question.. I mean why’d your sisters let their precious brother get into the hands of such a traumatic thing? Respect to you though! I wouldn’t be able to handle it any better than you so I’m very proud of you for serving the country, soldier.” You teased, looking at him with a big smile.

He hesitated, his eyes dropping to the railing, though a slight chuckle did manage to escape his lips from your silly nickname. For a moment, you thought he might brush off the question, but then he let out a soft sigh. “My dad,” he started, his voice quiet. “He wanted a ‘real man’ for a son. Someone strong, someone tough. But I wasn’t what he wanted.” You frowned. “What do you mean?” “Like I’ve mentioned before, I grew up with four older sisters,” he said, a faint, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. “They were the ones who raised me, really. Taught me how to cook, how to listen, how to be patient. I guess I turned out too… soft for my dad’s taste. He’d look at me and see failure. Said I’d never make it in the real world unless I ‘toughened up.’”

You could hear the bitterness in his voice, even though he tried to hide it.

“So he sent me to the Marines,” Dae-ho continued, his gaze distant. “Said they’d make a man out of me. And I guess they did. But they also…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “They took the parts of me that my sisters had built. Replaced them with someone who could fight. Someone who could kill. And when I got out, I didn’t even know who I was anymore. The marines take your spark.. or at least dim it with all they got.”

“What happened after that?” you asked gently.

He hesitated again, his fingers curling loosely around the railing. “When I got back my sisters were more than happy to see me but they knew I was different. It was a bit awkward at first but they got through to me and got me to go to therapy for a while but bills started piling up. I tried working—construction, private security—but the flashbacks made it impossible to hold a job."

He looked down at his hands, as if trying to remember a time they weren’t shaking. "I kept borrowing money to keep my head above water, but no matter how much I tried, it was never enough. My dad called me weak for struggling. Sisters tried to help, but I couldn’t let them. Too much pride, too much of him in me, I guess."

“I came here,” he said finally, “because it felt like the only thing left. At least here, I could do something. I could try and make my father proud.” For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then you reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “You didn’t deserve any of that,” you said quietly. He looked at you, surprised, and for a moment, the guarded expression fell away. “Maybe not,” he said softly. “But it’s done now. All I can do is try to keep moving forward, survive this place and get my life together.”

You nodded, your grip on his arm tightening slightly. “We’ll figure it out. Together.” You said and squeezed his hand, laying your head on his shoulder. “We’ll get out and open up a small shop.. we can sell whatever we can think of and buy a small house on Hyepjae beach. I’ve always wanted to visit Jeju, haven’t you?” You rambled, completely forgetting the fact how you were just mere strangers a few days ago. He nodded, putting a over your shoulders, holding you close. “I’d love that.. more then anything.”

You looked up at him, and his heart nearly stopped in the process. “For the record, I don’t think you’re weak at all. You’re one of the strongest people here, and considering what you’ve been through in your past, the fact that you’re still such a kind-hearted soul is rare in a place like this. You’re one of a kind, Kang Dae-ho.” You spoke softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before standing up to switch places with Jung-bae and Gi-hun, who were just waking up so you could get some rest.

He could only stare, his cheeks flushed as a quiet chuckle escaped him. Heading toward his own bed, which was a bit farther from yours, he suddenly paused. Kneeling down beside you, he gently brushed your hair behind your ear. “You’re one of a kind too, [Name] [Last Name],” he murmured, his voice soft but full of meaning, your name rolling naturally off his tongue. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Sleep well.”

As your eyes fluttered closed, a faint smile curved your lips. “Good night, Dae-ho.”

He lingered for just a moment longer, his gaze lingering on your peaceful expression, before whispering to himself, “How could someone like you exist?” Then, with one last glance, he quietly made his way to bed, his heart still racing.

© just1cefor4ll— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[drdemonprince]

This may sound like a backhanded compliment, but I'm not intending it that way, I just don't really know how to articulate it better.

Unmasking autism had such a positive impact on my wellbeing. After reading it, I basically came away with the impression of you being smart and competent - which you 100% are IMO. Then I randomly found your tumblr like last week and realized you're also kind of a hot mess. It makes sense. Dr. Demon Prince is also you, but not what is reflected in a widely published book.

There wasn't a moment of epiphany where you overcame and transcended. You just continued being you, which is a complex and messy human. I guess I didn't see the connective sinew between pre-diagnosed riding-the-struggle-bus Devon and the PHD Devon who wrote an impactful book when you're the same person.

It is very encouraging to me to see that. I too can be a hot mess, but also competent at what I am good at. Looking forward to reading Unmasking for Life.

I wish that people would realize that every single author they have ever gotten something meaningful from is a goddamn fucking mess with fucked-up relationships, questionable morals, intellectual and emotional blind spots, compulsions, and insecurities that radiate off their person as clear as sunlight. and it's not just authors either. every professor or teacher or mentor that you've ever had is completely incompetent in so many areas of their life that you can't see; every boss who has intimidated you is ultimately feckless to the extreme and has probably completely obliterated their marriage, finances, or just their whole life in five different ways. nobody that you look up to has any fucking idea what's going on, and every authority figure around you papers over the holes in their person with the symbols of propriety and status. nobody's admirable, nobody knows what the fuck's going on, most humans are driven by their emotions, their desire to be loved, and a collection of insecurities that have been katamari damacy'd onto them throughout the course of their life. Don't be impressed by anyone. Don't ever think that someone is out of your own intellectual or emotional league, or use them as a cudgel with which to punish yourself for all that you lack. these dumb motherfuckers lack a whole lot too. and you can take what is useful from a person, or an idea, without expecting purity or perfection from them. All that is good in humanity comes from us as snarling, petty, insecure, cheating, angry, wounded, crazy beings.

thank you so much for reading, and I do take what you have to say as a type of compliment. You're regarding me more as a human being now rather than as a symbol, which I appreciate. I hope you like the new book.

[king571]

Arcane truly flipped the script and broke so many societal norms with its story, characters, and representation. And some of y’all just can’t handle it because "things shouldn’t be this way," right? This is not what you expected. That was the whole point my friends. THAT WAS THE WHOLE STORY.

Their choices were intentionally meant to challenge you and make you uncomfortable. If you can’t open your mind and appreciate the nuances, you’ll always remain unhappy and bitter about it.

Oh and if you don’t know what I am talking about yet, here are some examples:

“Revolutionary Vi, come back!”

“She should’ve followed Jinx instead of being with Caitlyn.”

Because how dare Vi be selfish for once as an older sister? How dare she choose herself over constantly trying fix things for everyone else? How dare she choose to be with Caitlyn, someone she loves and feels safe with. It doesn’t make sense, she has to keep fighting for others. The script is not scripting.

“It was just Caitlyn’s mom, Vi and Jinx have been through so much worse.”

Because Caitlyn’s position and upbringing make her immune to pain and trauma, right? (And yes, I know it wasn’t just her mom.) She’s not allowed to make mistakes because of her privilege—otherwise, the world would hate her. How dare a young woman questions her morals or what’s right, even for a moment? That’s just unacceptable.

“A prison cell?? Really? That doesn’t seem like the right place for this.”

“Caitlyn didn’t even say sorry.”

Because sex can’t be impulsive or messy, right? Queer stories have to follow a perfect script or they aren’t good representation. We have to clean everything and make it perfectly healthy. And, of course, apologies only count when they’re said aloud, because that’s the only form that really matters, right? It’s just not acceptable any other way.

OH AND DO YOU REMEMBER SILCO’S LAST SPEECH:

“We build our own prisons. Bars forged of oaths, codes, commitments. Walls of self-doubt and accepted limitation. We inhabit these cells, these identities, and call them "us."”

Gee I wonder how that connects to all of this..

Honestly, I could go on. English isn’t my first language, but I had to rant about this. I wish I sounded nicer than this but I can’t anymore. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like the creative decisions the writers made—many people love Arcane now because of the very things you’re complaining about. Just keep that in mind. The media doesn’t revolve around you or your personal norms or expectations.

[energ00n]

Okay so I scrolled through all the asks so I’m hoping on hope this isn’t a repeat question, but I was wondering about Elita’s feelings about D calling Orion insignificant. Like, is this the kind of defensive response she’s used to from D? Has she picked up on the fact Orion overheard based on his behavior? If so, would she confront D about it or want him to figure it out and apologize on his own?

Sorry if that’s a lot, I just saw so many focused on her in the beginning of the interaction and I got curious about how she felt at the end of it. Your interpretations of these characters are fascinating (and deadly accurate to the movie, but that’s a whole other thing shdjsheuh). I know we’re onto Jazz and Orion but there’s still so much to think about and it’s wonderful.

PS; Thank you for sharing this AU with us! It can’t be easy having people misinterpret stuff or ignore answers already given. But you keep sharing it anyways and I really appreciate that! It’s a joy seeing your beautiful art come up on my dash :)

Elita is aware of many of D’s behaviors, hence “I didn’t need to bring that up, sorry”, she knew he was going to react strongly at that. She’s not aware that Orion knew and honestly she doesn’t know him, she couldn’t/wouldn’t do anything with Orion directly; she’ll say a thing or two then mostly leave D to his own devices

D and Elita have a friendship where they don’t really talk or pry about each other’s feelings, they’ll physically be there for each other and give space when asked.

Now that I think about it, Megatronous is somewhat like that too. D’s circle loves like an Asian household lol

[mourn-and-watch]

in all seriousness, dragon age being almost officially dead to me is, like, whatever. i'm used to hanging out in dead fandoms because i'm usually extremely late to the party so i think i'll manage. i was excited for veilguard but even if it was bad bad for me (which it wasn't. i have my problems with it but they didn't ruin the franchise for me) i would also manage because dragon age to me always was extremely flawed but had an enormous potential for fan content. at some point i started to treat it like my favourite fantasy playground where i can smash pre-existing barbie dolls with the ones i made myself. all my barbie dolls are in place and i still can do whatever i want (and i plan to continue to do so) and, i guess, i shouldn't be upset.

i am upset, however. for all the devs affected by laid-offs, but especially the writers. these people created dragon age as we know it, and it's been a messy series in every aspect, including the writing, it's been insensitive at times, at times dumb and undercooked, but there was always an immense amount of potential that's been inspiring fans for years, and also a feeling that all, or at least the most of it was created with genuine passion. and realizing that there is no one left from the team that made dragon age what it is, every installment of it, is just. genuinely sad. and it's not a theseus ship dilemma, because it's not like they were slowly replaced one by one. they were just fired. this ship is destined to sink, it's falling apart in front of our eyes because neither ea nor bioware cares about writing. not many companies do nowadays, to be honest. and it's kinda devastating. grifters will celebrate that like a "downfall of woke slop", but they'll get only more ai slop instead, lol, because good writing doesn't guarantee good sells. best selling games of 2024 are shooters and sports games. and elden ring which is a nice exception, but an exception nevertheless.

i don't think mass effect will save bioware at this point. even if it's an absolute banger it still has to meet ea's expectations. which are unrealistic, to say the least. also people who wrote characters like mordin, tali, legion, thane, garrus and liara are all gone. either they left themselves or were laid off. like, if you want "old bioware magic" to return, there is none. the same people who wrote your favourite characters and storylines in da/me were also working on veilguard. i may be wrong, but somehow i think they didn't all lose their ability to write here because they went woke or whatever. i think the inconsistent quality of datv writing that can only be described as 'we're so back/it's so over' pic is a consequence of multiple rewrites, constant director changes and shitty decisions, both internal and coming from bioware/ea higher-ups. i also may be wrong, but it wouldn't be such a big problem if writing wasn't at the bottom of priority list.

if i recall correctly, when gaider left willingly, he highlighted that bioware didn't treat its writers seriously at that point. and i'd say that tracks. like, from countless veilguard rewrites and scrapped ideas to lay-offs of every single studio veteran.

idk what else there is to say. i'll cheer for every studio that value its writers and i hope all ex-bioware devs will be able to do something new and exciting. i also doubt bioware is the last studio that will experience such a decline in the years to come. the narrative of this shitshow will also be twisted into 'go woke go broke' and it already slightly draws me insane. fuck ea fuck bioware fuck grifters. also i beg everyone to start appreciating writing as a craft because otherwise it's only going to get worse!

[grinnames]

HOW THE HECK DID THIS HAPPEN AND WHY ARE YOU ALL HERE

200+ followers.

We are over 200 followers strong already folks.

What do I even say?! Well I gotta say something, because it's been over a month since I hit this milestone, and I finally got all other ideas finished.

SO! Let's start with saying that I am incredibly and forever grateful and lucky that this has happened to me and that I get to do this online and that so many people enjoy my work. I've always been an outsider looking in, always the spectator, and never the performer. For so long, I have dreamed of finally being the person on the other side of the screen, making countless people smile and maybe even brighten up their day just a little bit. It feels like I've only just started making content on Tumblr SINCE LAST AUGUST, and I'm already having to write grandiose thank-you letters!

On a more serious note, I had been going through a rough time for the past few months, just a little after I started Tumblr. I had just transferred to a new school, and have had to leave all my friends behind for a second time. The transition period was hard, and I had never felt so lonely in a long while, but coming back online to see you interacting with my blog always brightened up my day. I've come to learn and accept that sometimes, online communities can be just as good as in-person communities, though it did take some getting used to!

Speaking of grandiose thank-you letters, let's get on to acknowledging some VIPs!

First, thank you everyone that has decided to hit the follow button, and for giving me a chance! It really feels validating, and motivated to continue working on and posting my story!

Also, I would like to thank God for gifting me with artistic talent and the drive to hone it at the tender age of five. He's given me so many opportunities to practice my craft, and He continues to give me more chances to use my gift for the happiness of others, and for myself. Without Him, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

@novajuniper! You know who you are to me. So I'm just here to remind everyone what you did. YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND IRL AND YOU ENCOURAGED ME TO START TUMBLR IN THE FIRST PLACE! You were also one of my first and only fans of my art for a very very long time. Everyone, let's give it up for the OG!!

@oppsiedoo! YOU. You were one of my first fans that gave me FANART! The first Godbox AU fanart came from you, and the first Grinnames fanart came from you! And then you kept giving me more! I'm honestly sometimes a little concerned with the amount of fanart you do for me and my work. Surely you have other creators you look up to?! But thanks for giving me that much support since the beginning when I was small! I felt so validated and seen!

@bow-and-aro-child and @smgx-pez! I always remember you because you were some of the first people to notice Godbox AU! Though we don't interact much, I very much appreciate that you stuck around! You two often appear as my top-fans on my Activities page!

Also @smgx-pez you were also one of my first reblogs. It was the one where you compared Rewrite Sonic to Godbox SMG4, and my stomach kinda dropped in a nervous but excited way! That thread where you found out I actually was inspired by Rewrite is something I will never forget because that's how I discovered that Tumblr was chill like that! Thanks for representing Tumblr!

@hexsie! You were also one of my first reblogs! I was so young and inexperienced on this platform and some stranger (you) sends me some OOC drawing of your OC hugging my boys... I have to admit I was very flattered but so stunned that I didn't know how to respond. Well, now here's the response! I now think that this interaction was hilarious! Thank you for being my introduction into the SMG4 community! Looking forward to that Hexsie lore!

(It's always been the Hug Saga, hasn't it...? From the very beginning...)

@smg6-the-memer! My first asker! You probably submitted the most asks to my ask box as well! That's how I remember you! I had actually not intended to start asks at the time, but the askbox was open by default, so I just went along with it because I HAD ALWAYS WANTED AN ASKBLOG. So thank you for being the push!

@supern0vashii! The infamous Starter of the Hug Saga! Also currently the Ender of the Hug Saga! (for now) We've come full circle! Honestly, Hug Saga was fun, and it's all thanks to you reaching out to me! You also started the Godboxified OC trend with SMG6... you really be out there trailblazing! I've always enjoyed redesigning my OCs to fit AUs... so to have people doing the same for MY AU?! IT FEELS SO AMAZING! Thank you!

@bear-boi-5! My first mutual that isn't @novajuniper! (she doesn't count because I met her IRL before tumblr) When you followed me back you have no idea how shocked and excited I was. I'm not really interested in the fandoms you draw for now, I mostly followed you for your amazing SMG4 au art (Monster Containment AU is my favorite! It's what got me to follow you!) but I'm sticking around because of the sentiment and I also like your vibes!

@michaelscorneroftheinternet! Holy hell. You are one of the creators that I really look up to! Your art-style is just so yummy! So I kind of, may have, freaked out when you joined the Godboxified OC trend AND followed me back! ON TOP OF THAT, YOU SAID I'M ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE CREATORS TOO?! I nearly died from all the happiness rushing up to my head! Not to mention, I really love your energy whenever you reblog stuff! It's rather infectious! Keep up the good work!

@libbytwq! I also look up to you! We may not have interacted much, but I am honored that you follow me back! I really enjoy watching SMGL:e's silly little adventures and interactions with other OCs! So much so that I was inspired by you to later publish some lore about my own OC Grinnames herself! I'm looking forward to some more delicious lore-drops in the future!

@purpdrawsthings! You are probably one of the the NICEST most BUBBLY people I have met on this platform! I just like watching you be nice to people and the fanart you make of other creators' AUs! Not to mention your own AUs are mighty interesting... I want to be as nice as you when I interact with other blogs! Also MY SONA BECAME AN ANIMATION IN YOUR CHRISTMAS VIDEO, SHE'S GOING PLACES THANKS TO YOU!

@bstroobery! specifically @bluestrawberrybunny, Apprenticeship AU is actually one of the first SMG4 fanfics I decided to sit down, lock in, and read through. And over time, your OCs SMG5 and SMG6 really grew on me! I also liked that you were open to AU interactions in your askbox, and crossovers have always been my sort of thing, so I decided that your askbox would be the first I would interact with! Thank you for being so chill with me!

@clowntrickery08! My latest mutual! Dude I really like your artstyle, and its super easy to tell that its you! The way you draw characters is really charming! So I can say for certain that I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN YOU DREW MY BOYS IN YOUR STYLE. Also I really like your sona's design! Also, your concept for SMGPuzzles and SMGWren is SO COOL that I am gonna play around with it sometimes!

@itz-miss-kamilyvision! My god, your OC has a whole-ahh saga in Godbox AU. You having your OC have so many interactions with my boys was so much fun to watch! Thank you doing all that, I always love making characters interact and you gave me just that over and over again! I also like seeing your OCs lore, and the other interactions you have with other creators!

@alan-william! The one who turned ME into a gacha character AND animated me! But what I appreciated the most is how you made my sona interact with yours and also Micheal's. That is the closest thing to real human interaction to me on this platform, and something that I've enjoyed the most here is finding community, and I really feel connected with you!

@birdy-four! We haven't interacted that much, but to this day, that giant reblog of Godbox AU Chapter 0 with you word-vomiting everywhere about my fanfic is my favorite reblog of all time! I sometimes go back and read it again because while most people see my art, they don't really get to see my writing, and I've never gotten feedback like this before!

@smg33exe! And last but not least, the one that put my boy Godbox!SMG4 in a gacha video! BECAUSE OF YOU I MADE IT ONTO YOUTUBE! Thank you for throwing my creation out there on the web, and for creating a video that I sometimes come back to just to marvel at what I've become!

As for the rest of you... I have planned something that everyone can partake in! Stay tuned, I just need to finish preparing it...

[sunnysidesevenup]

SSR - Alistair Cearbhaill - Blacklight Attire

for @twsted-void’s event!!! this might be one of my favorite cards I’ve ever made kahsmsjmajsjha

Groovy: [Locked]

Summon: Party… a party? I’d certainly attend something I was invited to.

more voicelines under the cut!

Groovification: I appreciate the help, should we now barter for payment? …Oh, it wasn’t that kind of deal?

Set to Home Screen: Can you help me figure out where I am? I’m afraid I wandered somewhere I don’t know again…

Home transition 1: What a lovely event. It’s quite loud. I imagine many people are sharing secrets under the music.

Home transition 2: Someone told me it was tradition to share beads at events like this. …I was then told that snatching them was not the correct way to share. My apologies.

Home transition 3: …Who did my paint? Oh… Me. I’m not an artist, so I just let my hands do what they wished…

Home, after login: It’s getting quite late, you should go to sleep. …Me too? That’s a very cute sentiment, thank you.

Home Tap 1: The lights are very mesmerizing. I have to remind myself not to stare into them, so I will remind you too.

Home Tap 2: I don’t usually show this much skin. I don’t mind it… but people keep staring…

Home Tap 3: …Oh, I didn’t notice you there… Are you doing okay?

Home Tap 4: Am I good at dancing? …hmm, I don’t think so.

Home Tap 5: I’d like to bring him with me to events like these, but he might… Oh, who am I talking about? Don’t mind it, I’m talking to myself.

Duo: Idia

Ali, I’d really rather not! T-this isn’t my scene!

Your scene is wherever you happen to be, Idia. You’ll be fine… I’m here too, after all.

[genderqueerdykes]

I feel like, as a genderfluid trans woman, that my transmasculinity serves as a powerful fuck you to trans women and other queers that hate trans men. I am a transmasculine person. I have been told off and hated for this fact so much that i was pushed so deep into the static gender closet for so many years. The people who get mad at me for “fetishizing trans men” or some bullshit like that are far too often trans women. I have had people use “protecting trans men” as an excuse to yell at me for saying I want to bind as a way to maybe be perceived as a transmasculine person more easily. They yelled at me that “not all trans men bind”. They made me feel ashamed of being the fucking person that I am. They wanted to draw thick firm lines between transmasculine and transfeminine, and I said fuck your binary. I called them out for just recreating the binary. For saying amab people can never be transmasculine.

All this has done is make me get bolder and louder about the fact I am transmasculine and transfeminine and trans whatever the fuck i want. I will not have my identity defined by my genitals. I am unashamed that i am transmasculine. I am loud about it. Death before enforced static gender ✊

thank you so much for taking the time to share your story, i really appreciate it!

i've been trying to point this out for months, only to be called a transmisogynist. there genuinely, really, truly are trans women who are also men out there and we need to be treated better. i'm also a trans woman & a trans man as well, there's nothing wrong with that. your AGAB shouldn't matter- if you feel like a trans man, you are a trans man. no matter what. i don't need to know what gender or genitals you were born with. you are a trans man. you are NOT fetishizing trans men at all. so many people DO this, but you being a trans man is not fetishizing us at all.

and that DOES NOT invalidate your trans womanhood, either! they don't cancel each other out! that doesn't give anyone the excuse to refuse to see you as a trans woman as well! that doesn't diminish your experience, nor does it step on the toes of trans men of different AGABs! you are doing absolutely nothing wrong and people still just reduce you to your genitals. that's not anyone else's business at all. how is this trans community if we're reducing each other to our genitals- that's the EXACT OPPOSITE of what we do here!

They wanted to draw thick firm lines between transmasculine and transfeminine, and I said fuck your binary. I called them out for just recreating the binary. For saying amab people can never be transmasculine.

beautifully said. people are constantly obsessed with recreating the binary and it's time we stopped.

i'm very glad you took the time to share your story. people need to understand that AMAB trans people also have an extremely complex relationship with gender, and that can include being men, and yes, that includes trans men. genderfluidity is complex. it's not just "binary cis man, binary cis woman, other". it can be whatever that individual is experiencing. it's unique for everyone. i hope you continue to have the energy to stay loud and proud. you deserve to be. nobody has the right to tell you who you are, or that you're somehow hurting other people. you're not. they're hurting you. stay safe out there. you are loved

[jynxpsiche]

About daeho,can you write him being in the game and then meeting gn reader that was like taller than them whehagwgwgwg

OMG SURE BB! <3 so reader is like 6’4’’ (193 cm) a bit taller than our beloved! I implied reader as a foreigner and an aspiring model who got scammed !! Hope you like it! Thx for sending me this request and remember to stay hydrated!! <3 <3

futile insecurities

kang dae-ho (player 388) x gn!reader

🎐. summary: going to South Korea to try becoming a model was the dream that led you there in a foreign country. convinced that you finally found a recruiter you later learnt the truth behind it. so that’s why you decided to call that number and try to win some easy money to get back on track. but even if you felt all the prejudices from others you managed to find someone who appreciated you for who you really were.

🎐. warnings: gender neutral reader, no use of y/n, canon squid game gore and violence, minor swearing, reader is a foreigner, no proofread. English is not my first language!

requests are open !!

Screams and cries.

That was all Dae-ho heard in that fragment of time. People running desperate to somehow save their lives, pleadings and begs leaving their trembling lips hoping to leave that place after what they witnessed.

It should have been easy. An ‘in and out’ situation, you know? Just to gather some easy money to pay off some debts. To start a new decent life.

At least, that’s what Dae-ho thought. And supposedly everybody else, too.

Now they were running for their lives, escaping and avoiding the claws of death.

Shot after shot they fell to the ground not giving any signs of life. Their dull eyes staring off into space. No more light behind those empty gazes.

That unbearable sound of constant shooting overpowered the unstoppable screams and the former marine forced himself to stand still and to stay froze on the spot.

However, his will was slowly crumbling, the trembles in his fingers more persistent and clearly evident, but he tried to contain it. He couldn’t die like this.

Then a voice.

Like a signal sent from above to save them all.

The same man from the beginning of the game. Player 456.

He had played these games before, or so he declared, but right now that statement was becoming more convincing minute by minute.

It was true that when they were eliminated they were going to get killed. And the only way to survive and pass the game was to hide behind someone taller and form a straight line. The robot’s eyes couldn’t detect movements from behind something. And the player 456 proved it so.

Immediately Dae-ho offered his help, hiding behind his broad structure as many people as possible. It was in his genes to help others.

Numerous lines formed all over the field in no time and his eyes incredulously spotted a tall player leading one of the lines.

They were taller than an average korean person, so he supposed they were a foreigner. Their steps were quick and long and even with their tall height they seemed so agile and fast, ready to sprint if necessary.

When he glanced at them from time to time he felt a sense of tranquility pervade him. Watching them waltz through the field with that elegance and velocity helped him concentrate on his current goal: survive and pass the game.

And he did.

The moment he passed the finish line he felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. But even after passing the game his mind was immediately on you.

He searched you through the players with an frenetic gaze, scanning everybody and then he spotted you, slightly crouched down and gently reassuring an old lady who couldn’t stop showing you her gratitude for saving her and her son’s life.

Slowly he approached you, the old lady and the son off somewhere else, leaving you alone.

He didn’t know why but he felt his pulse rushing and the blood pumping loudly in his veins. Trying to act casual he cleared his throat hoping to catch your attention. And he did.

You turned around with a quizzical look on your face and only then he noticed your big and bright eyes scrutinizing him from the bottom to the top. He also paid attention to how taller you were than him. He had to tilt his head up a bit.

He met your gaze and forcefully managed to send down the lump in his throat. Breathtaking. That was what he thought when he saw you.

“Can I help you?” Your soft voice reached his ears and for a moment he thought that in reality he was dead and the person in front of him was an angel. But he regained his focus.

"You...you're really tall" his mouth spat out those words without being processed by the brain first and he should have thought of better words to say because he immediately saw how your expression morphed from a confused one to and irritated one. "Thank you, I didn't know that" you barked back with a calm fury, even scarier than a normal one.

And after that statement you went your way without looking back in his direction and he felt devastated at that.

Dae-ho only wanted to get to know you better and to express his admiration for how you handled the game with cold blood.

With a fallen expression he followed the other players back to the dorm room when the game ended. A lot of people had been eliminated and of course the amount of money gained from their deaths convinced more of the majority to continue playing.

The former marine stared at the blue patch on his chest and a pressing weight tortured him again. He needed the money to pay of his debts. He didn't want to fret his family further, already too much on their plate.

During the vote he didn't really ponder about it too much, but simply followed his insticts and press the circle. Only when your number was called he noticed your slumped and insicure figure instead of the confident one he found on the field. He surely heard all the whispers coming from the others and how they were effecting you.

And it was then that Dae-ho realised he should have voted X. Beside his family, who was still good financially compared to him he had no one out there, but when you came into the picture, even though he didn't know you at all and somehow managed to offend you, he wanted to protect you.

You looked brave on the outside, but he knew how fragile and breakable you were on the inside. Just like him.

He felt a strange bond with you: for him you two were very similar. And maybe he wasn't so wrong.

His gazed stayed focused on your figure, he didn't miss the slight tremble of your hand when you pressed the red button and the quick little steps you took to join the other side opposed to his.

Regret was eating him alive. And he felt the need to redeem himself.

His attentive eyes immediately spotted your figure on the stairs where your bunk and also player 456's was situated. You had decided to stick with him, since both of you wanted to leave that place so bad.

Dae-ho slowly tried to approach you, your gaze fixated on the small tray of food in your lap, while player 390, another member of your 'team', was talking with player 456. You were oddly silent.

Only when he reached a rather close proximity the other two noticed him. You also acknowledged his presence and a cold expression settled on your face.

He still felt bad for how he had treated you, even if it wasn’t his original intention. He couldn’t change the past but was right on time to make the best out of the present.

Player 390 was the first to speak up, “what are you doing here?” Dae-ho froze on the spot and transferred his gaze from you to the old man now standing behind you, “I wanted to join your team. I found player 456’s speech really stimulating and I would like to help you all to get out of here.” He stated firmly after he took a deep breath of encouragement.

The man looked at him from head to toe, “I think I could be a good addition since I was a marine” he added, showing off his tattoo. At that sight the man proudly took off his hoodie and flashed him the same tattoo.

“If you want to get out…” the two men were interrupted by another voice “…then why did you vote to continue with the games?” It was player 456 who had spoken, his voice serious and unshakable.

His gaze was set on Dae-ho who gulped his anxiety and gathered some courage to face the supposed leader of the team. “Because I have no one and nothing waiting for me out there so I thought to give it a chance, but—“ he stopped himself, moving his gaze to your figure, warming up a bit, “then I found something worth fighting for…”

You noticed how his gaze was locked on you and the sudden warmth and gentleness in his eyes, making your heart skip a beat. So you simply adverted your gaze and focused it on your lap again.

You wanted to appear composed, his words from before still lingering in your mind.

Gi-hun also understood the reason behind the guy’s change of heart and with a small sigh he accepted Dae-ho into the team, convinced that someone like him would have been a great addition.

The young former marine thanked him profusely and then uncertainly took a seat beside that tall and breathtaking person. He wasn’t aware of being staring at them but they noticed since they felt his gaze on them, so they decided to call him out.

“What do you want now? It wasn’t enough what you had said earlier?” He immediately picked up their irked tone and considered this as the perfect opportunity to apologize and explain the situation.

“I’m sorry if I offended you before, it wasn’t my intention” he replied firmly but without looking at them in the eyes, still not brave enough to face them at the moment, “I must admit I had been shocked when I saw you” “but!” He immediately added, to avoid any type of misunderstanding “but…I didn’t find you strange or annoying like the majority of the players here…”

Dae-ho didn’t know if now he had to be sincere with them and possibly making a fool of himself or simply apologizing. They had been looked down enough by others and by how they know showed themselves, closed off and slightly insecure about their aspect, he felt the need to speak the truth, facing any type of consequences.

Gaining all his bravery the former marine locked his gaze with theirs, who were simply ogling at him during his speech, and when he did it was over for him: their big bright eyes observed at him with an indescribable warmth and surprise.

“actually…” he felt himself shift closer to them, their eyes never breaking contact, “…during the game I thought you were so brave and elegant. The grace you showed by crossing the field left me…breathless”

You widened your eyes at that statement, throwing you off guard.

No one had ever called you elegant or saw any type of grace in you.

You had always wanted to become a model and being blessed by such height was a gift and a sign from above. But unfortunately you lacked of delicacy and charm, making you feel humiliated and a failure.

When you tried different auditions you had always been rejected, neither being able to pass the first selection because they all grimaced when they saw you trembling on those heels.

Though, you never lose hope and always practiced with walking without stumbling or falling completely.

But things weren’t going great, you were also struggling financially since in the meantime you were working for minimum wage and every audition ended with the same negative evaluations.

You were tired and almost close to drop your dream but then you saw a light at the end of a tunnel: a recruiter came up to you one day and gave you his business card to arrange a proper meeting and to talk more clearly about a modeling stage.

You were thrilled. Maybe things were finally going your way!

And then…the disaster.

When you meet you met a second time with that recruiter you ended up spending a large amount of your life savings and only later, a couple of days after the encounter, you discovered by the news that a man, who pretended to be a model recruiter, had been arrested for fraud and scamming.

It was him. The same guy you had met in a cafe to fill in all the papers and to cover all the costs.

The police only arrested the man but there were no signs of the money he gained with his illegal activity.

The world was crumbling beneath your feet. You had reached your lowest and deepest point, now nothing was enough to save yourself from this situation you naively had pur yourself in.

A dream.

Only because you wanted to follow a stupid dream.

That’s why people locked them in the furthest part of their mind. They knew they were impossible to realize.

Still you needed to prove them wrong, how they just failed to pursue theirs and instead show them how you were going to make it.

In reality you only showed how you really were a failure. And they all had always been right from the start.

However, those words whispered so gently by him flabbergasted you, but in a good way.

They were like a lighter that ignited a new spark in your chest, in your soul. You felt…seen.

For the first time someone really saw you.

A boy who’s jacked and kind, making you believe in yourself again. Making your heart flutter for some praising words and making you feel all giddy inside.

You simply stared at him but with a new perspective; the hatred you felt for him immediately dissolved into thin air and was replaced by warm and a bubbling feeling in your chest.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered bashfully “for how I treated you…the first time” he understood what you meant and slightly smiled at you.

Chuckling softly he shook his head “it’s fine…really…i understand where that came from” “this whole situation…isn’t the best and if someone came up to you saying strange things…it’s totally understandable” he voiced your thoughts with a comforting and comprehensive tone.

You felt it again, the flutter and warmth in your chest.

“I’m y/n” he had never heard such a unique name, it fitted you so well. He tried repeating it, your name rolling off his lips in a low and tentative tone. You had never thought your name could have been so different and singular till now. He made it sound so pretty.

“I’m Kang Dae-ho” he then murmured leaning closer to you “Dae-ho…” you repeated back, your gaze locked into his. The ex-marine smiled and a small chuckle left his lips when your cheeks reddened for the embarrassment.

“If somebody tries to make fun of your appearance, I’ll deal with them, ok?” He reassured you “you don’t have to…I can take care of myself” you quietly stated, but he didn’t want to hear it.

“I’m serious…I will protect you. Whatever it takes.”

[tiredsmashbros]

🌿⛅️ HAPPY BIRTHDAY KYLE !!! 🦌

@rmgkyle 💥

wanna get back into the habit of posting any of my art like i used to, so we gonna start the end of the month strong IYUGJHDW

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KYLE!!!! I SRSLY HOPE U HAD AN AWESOME ONE AND ENJOYED THE BIRTHDAY PARTY EVENT AAAA I GEN HAD A LOT FUN AND GETTING TO TALK BOUT SOUTH PARK GUH... we need to actually do a watch party of that and watch scott pilgrim again yes uwu 💛🍔

my mini sappery essay jajaja go away this is for the deer girl /srs

i've kind of said most of what i've been having in my mind from my response to the bday gift you made for me a bit ago, but i'm going to continue saying them because seriously, getting to find someone else who shares multiples interests and fixations- ESP SOUTH PARK AND SCOTT PILGRIM- has been seriously and incredible joyride, and im so excited to continue to yap about them and so much more!!!

omg i needed to move my foot for a sec and my roommate's cat on my lap left me what a bitch am i right /j /silly ILHKJGFNEDSH

anyways- kyle you genuinely are one of the most sweetest individuals i've met and i get excited to see you pop around in vcs and get excited to see what new masterpieces you got cooking up!!! i hope this birthday had made you realized how much you mean to a lot of people, including myself, and how much we all appreciate you. obviously i can't speak for everyone, butt you've been so joyful to hang and talk with i don't know what happen if your silly little presence wasn't rolling around.

you really do make a difference in folks lives because you did for me. i think i mentioned i've personally encounter bad "kyles" within my lifetime and i meant it how paranoid it made me. but meeting you and getting to know you from these past months have seriously washed away those fears, and those calmed the tides to the horrible memories. something i didn't know could go away. but you made it happened wether you meant to or not. and i thank you wholeheartedly for that. you make me smile and excited to know whats going to happen bc my god any of you sillies shenanigans will be the death of me /j /silly

alas, despite chaos, i've never had such a joyful experience before and i want you to seriously know how much i appreciate you man. yeah maybe i could've ended this gift with just a "happy birthday" and a sketch doodle, but that's not really up my alley, and even more so i wanted to really do my best to try to express how much i care by trying to illustrate you something wholesome, yet lovingly. a piece filled with care and enjoyable company, accompanied with comforting such as clouds, though simple, thats all it really is. its all a straight-forward warm breeze comfort you bring to me and no doubt. to many others. your exciting to be around and a relaxing hotspot to inform myself to never need worries.

you're just so cool man.

please continue staying cool and the sweet silly person that you are

i love you kyle, and i hope we can continue to being friends for many more

happy birthday dude 💛🍔

and im definitely buying lesbian color nail polish on our next sleepover ong you aint gonna catch me slaking /silly iHKJGDCS

[bunni-v1]

Wriothesley NSFW Alphabet

🍓Hi gang. To celebrate pookie's rerun announcement, I've made these as my humble offering to Wrio fans across all Tumblr. I do hope you enjoy my measly crumbs, and I am too busy to do anything particularly special. Anyway, I have Fortnite to play, so I must bid you all adieu.

TW: NSFW; Rough Sex; Unedited disaster

Info: Wriothesley x Reader; NSFW Alphabet; Fem! Reader (srry)

Word Count: 4k

A = Aftercare: Wriothesley takes aftercare very seriously, it’s as important as having sex in his mind – if not more. He goes pretty hard in bed, and so long and attentive aftercare is a must for him. He’ll massage all of your aches out, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head, no pain will escape those deft fingers of his. Wipes you up of any fluids that have stained your skin, humming about how pretty you look – covered in him or not. And, of course, a nice warm bath settled between his legs. He’ll press soft kisses across your neck as he washes you off. He’s pretty quiet during all this, other than his comments about how much he enjoyed himself and getting assurance you did too. He’s not one for needless talk after all, and he’d rather bask in the after-glow in silence. With the way he acts, you don’t need him to speak to know he loves and appreciates all you’ve allowed him to do anyway.

B = Body part: Starting with you, he’s a big fan of your ass. There’s a lot about you that he’s a fan of, your smile, your eyes, your hands, and your legs, but your ass just takes the cake for him. It’s easy to grab and hold out of other people's lines of sight, he’s also a fan of smacking it as you walk past him. The recoil is one of his favorite things to watch. Not to mention he loves to lift you up and hold you by it, one cheek cushioned perfectly in each of his hands. He swears up and down that he made them to be held. That isn’t even mentioning how he grabs at it when he pounds into you from the back. Not even the most scenic areas of Fontaine can compare to the jiggle of your ass as he takes you from behind.

For him, it’s his hands, no question. They’re rough and scarred, and that's through hard work. His hands have done terrible things, taken too many lives to count, and committed more than a few violent and borderline criminal acts within the walls of the fortress. However, they also are the reason he got to where he is today. Without his fists he wouldn’t have survived as long as he had, without his fingers to hold his pen he wouldn’t be able to run the fortress and live comfortably. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to love you properly without them either. Be that holding you tight to his chest as you drift off to sleep in his arms, or watching them sink into your heat holding you down as you squirm away from him.

C = Cum: Wriothesley doesn’t have a favorite place to cum, it’s too difficult to choose when there are so many good options. Your face is nice, shooting thick globs of cum across your cheeks is always a lovely sight. Especially when you try and fail to lick it up with that pretty pink tongue of yours – even better if your eyes are all watery from the blowjob you just gave him. Your stomach and back are good options too, something about seeing your body covered in him makes him want to dive back in for seconds. Of course, there’s also inside, filling you up is always nice, especially when he gets to shove it all back in after he pulls out.

His cum is thick, almost viscous but not so much so that he can’t easily slide it around your body when he wants to. It’s a bit hard to swallow because of the thickness, but he doesn’t mind watching it dribble down your chin when you try. He also cums a lot – it’s a bit embarrassing in his opinion and makes him feel like some needy teen (even though it’s most certainly incredibly hot). It’s a healthy color, an off-white, thanks to Sigewinne making sure he stays in good health. It's saltier than you’d expect, but if it bothers you so much he’s willing to change up parts of his diet so the taste is better for you.

D = Dirty Secret: Panty sniffer and a voyeur, and he’s not proud of that fact. He will go to extreme lengths to hide it from you, and if you ever find out it will be the most insecure you’ll ever see him. He likes the way you smell a lot, okay, he can’t control that. He literally sniffs you every time he goes down on you, and disguises it as ‘needing air’ so you don’t suspect him. If he can’t see you for a while he’ll steal a pair of your panties for use until he can see you again. It helps him get off easier. As for voyeurism he just likes watching you get off, this one he’s not really ashamed of and more just doesn’t want you using it against him. If you’re getting off without him (and you think he’s busy), sometimes he’ll stand there and watch you for a while. He thinks you’re cute trying to fuck yourself, knowing full well he can do it ten times faster than you can. Ah, along with this, he just has a tendency to stare. It’s pretty easy to miss in the moment, but if you go back and think about it, he really does just watch you. Your expressions, your movements, the way your body reacts to him, nothing escapes his watchful gaze.

E = Experience: This may be a controversial take, but I doubt he has much experience if any at all. He was locked in prison in his early teens at the latest and spent his whole life in the fortress. The only experience he was getting is from a quick fuck buddy he might’ve had, but from the way it’s described in his character story, that’s highly unlikely. He’s a loner at heart, and any kind of connection like that is one he wouldn’t want to have tied to him at the time. That isn’t to say his lack of experience makes him bad by any means. He’s actually quick to pick things up and he pretty easily puts two and two together, so despite a few awkward fumbles he’s pretty good in bed. He’s also the type of guy who would prefer to get to know one sexual partner very well rather than have several people he’s fucking regularly. Rest assured that Wriothesley will take learning what you like very seriously, and he will get very good at pleasuring you very quickly.

F = Favorite Position: There are a few contenders for what could be his ‘favorite position’. He likes to have you pressed up against him, the more skin touching the better. Alongside skinship, he also likes having you in positions where he has full control of you. Seeing you helpless against him is a huge turn-on, so he likes having you bent into positions where you can’t fight him easily. He also prefers the feeling of taking you from behind, he feels like he can hit deeper and harder like that, though this fights with his need to see your face as he fucks you into the mattress. With all this in mind, he goes to three positions naturally.

First is doggy style, obviously, this one had to be mentioned. He not only gets to fuck you from behind, but he has the perfect view of your ass as he bullies his cock into your hole, watching it jiggle with each thrust. He also gets to watch your back arch from this angle, which is always an ego booster. And, of course, he has full control over you like this. He can easily pull your hair or push your face into the pillows or bend over you to tease you.

The second would be reverse cowgirl. In this position, he sacrifices a lot of what he likes, but again getting to see your ass is more than enough to make over any loss of control he might have (not that he really has much in the first place.) You have to work for your pleasure like this, and as much as he loves taking control of you, sometimes it’s nice to sit back and enjoy the show. He deserves a break every now and then, doesn’t he?

Finally, we have Full Nelson, which is likely his actual favorite, but he doesn’t pull it out too often because of how straining it can be on your body. Back pressed against his, legs held up by his strong hands, and dick slamming into your sopping hole. That’s the dream. He can whisper in your ear like this, and he can feel the way every inch of you reacts to him. It’s also a show of stamina and strength on his part, and he wants you to know how good he can take care of you.

G = Goofy: Wrio isn’t exactly goofy, but he’s not completely serious about sex. It is serious to him, of course, because it’s a means of showing you how much he loves you in a way… but if he took it too seriously he probably wouldn’t enjoy it as much. It’s sorta a means of relieving stress, and he wouldn’t be able to relieve stress if he was serious. So he’ll joke and tease you, and he’s willing to laugh if anything stupid happens, but equally, he’s there to fuck you so not too much of that alright? 

H = Hair: He is HAIRY, like very hairy, everywhere. If Hoyoverse weren’t cowards they would’ve let him be in the game, but alas they clipped an angel’s wings. He has thick black hair covering his arms, chest, and torso, and of course, he’s got an impressive bush down there. He doesn’t usually bother doing much to it, he might trim it occasionally if he feels like it’s getting annoying or if you complain, but otherwise, it’s staying and it’s thick.

I = Intimacy: Wriothesley can actually be quite the sweetheart when he wants to be. Maybe it isn’t as typical as rough sex, but he’s a secret romantic at heart and he’s more than happy to use sex as a means to show his affection for you. While he’s usually a fan of fast and hard, he can slow down and take his time with you, and he’s very good at it. Not a single inch of you would be safe from his gentle touches and whispered sweet nothings, lips working so carefully across the expanse of your body, hands molding you into shape with practiced ease. You will feel warm all over, skin flushed from the genuine adoration he presses through your skin into your soul. This is the most loved you will ever feel, he ensures you feel nothing but desired and adored. So, yes, he can be very romantic.

J = Jack Off: When do you think he has the time? I mean, yes he actually has a surprising amount of free time, but he’s not going to spend it jerking off. Definitely not in his office alone, there’s something about it that just feels… lonely. Too lonely even for him. That’s not to say he never does, of course. Usually late at night when you aren’t around and he really needs just to relieve himself, but it’s not common. Maybe once a week at max. I mean, why would he waste time fucking his hand when you’re there for him anyway?

K = Kink: Wriothesley has a lot of kinks, as he’s discovered through sexual escapades with you. There are a few that stand out as particularly pleasurable for him, though, namely: Voyeurism, restraints, choking, overstimulation, BDSM, and impact play. (There are more that will shine in these listed, but I can’t be here all day.)

Since I already established Voyeurism, I’ll start with restraints, does this one really surprise anyone? Those handcuffs find more than just a little use in the bedroom, as he’s very into restraining you. He likes his control, and the best way to maintain that is to keep you restrained. Be it through handcuffs or through his own physical strength, it doesn’t matter so long as the deed is done.

Choking is one that he hadn’t expected himself to like, but the desperate gasping for air as his hand squeezes your throat is thrilling to him. Your life is literally in his hands, he could easily crush your windpipe with one wrong move, but you trust him so much that you let him choke the air out of your lungs. Not to mention how cute you look with tears stinging your eyes.

Leaning into the control thing he has, he’s a fan of overstimulation because he gets to choose when it all stops. He’ll make you cum four, five, six times and have you begging him to stop, but he won’t. Not until he’s satisfied. So he’ll squeeze another out of you, watch you squirm and cry as if you don’t like it too, and smile wide at your half-hearted pleas of “it hurts” or “no more” because he knows you can take just one more. 

With BDSM, I feel it’s quite obvious he’s into this. He likes to restrain you and keep you from fighting him off, he likes having control and keeping you submissive to him, and of course, he loves to torture you for hours on end sexually. Tied up and fully at his disposal, he’ll have all the fun in the world that he wants with you, so long as both of you are satisfied in the end.

Finally, impact play might sound a bit scary, but he’s not too hard on this one. He honestly prefers it more on himself, if he’s honest. The fighter in his just loves the adrenaline rush he gets when you smack at him. He wants you to punch his chest as you try and push him off helplessly, it’s so cute. Don’t worry though, if you really start to misbehave he’ll give you a firm smack to get you back under control. He’s also into spanking, of course, because again watching your ass jiggle is his favorite sight in the world.

L = Location: He’s not much of a fan of exhibitionism, so nothing public with him. He doesn’t want to be seen in such a compromising position, nor does he want anyone to see you in the state he puts you in. So usually he prefers to be in his or your bedroom, doors locked with no chance of anyone walking in on the two of you. If you have your own home, he’s more than happy to take you in any room so long as there’s no risk of anyone walking in on you. However… office sex is inevitable with him. I mean, he spends a lot of time there, and you usually have to go up to his office to visit him, it’s no shock that he’s fucked you over his desk before. In fact, there’s almost no inch of that office that he hasn’t fucked you against in numerous positions. Over his desk, pinned to his little side table, pressed against the window overlooking his ship, and of course against the doors of the office when he’s feeling particularly impatient.

M = Motivation: There are a few things that get the Duke excited, none of which he’d ever admit in fear of your using it against him. The number one way to get him hot and bothered is to get under his skin. Annoy him, and he really can’t help the way his cock starts to grow. Be careful though, he can only handle so much teasing before he snaps, and in that case, you better be prepared to give up walking straight for a few days. Other than that, if you initiate in any way he’ll be more than happy to oblige you. He’d gratefully set aside work just to fuck you, and he finds it very attractive when you take the initiative just for him to steal away your power with one heated kiss easily.

N = No: He won’t share with anyone. Even proposing the idea is a total turn-off to him. He likes exclusivity in a relationship, and he’s the type to want to monopolize your attention, so sharing isn’t anywhere near his radar. He also isn’t willing to let anyone watch, that isn’t a side of him he wants anyone other than you to see. 

O = Oral: With him, it could go both ways honestly. I think he enjoys both giving and receiving equally, and he wouldn’t be able to choose between the two. On the one hand, receiving head from you might be his second favorite sight in the world. The way you blink your lashes up at him as tears prick your eyes from the size of him is so cute. You always try so hard to swallow all of him up (though you never can), and he’s so appreciative of how much you want to pleasure him. On the other hand, feeling you squirm under his mouth has got to be the best feeling in the world. You taste so good, and he’d die a happy man suffocating between your folds. Not to mention the fact that he can grip your thighs and hold you down as you struggle beneath him. If you let him eat your ass he’d be over the moon, by the way, just a suggestion.

P = Pace: As I mentioned earlier, he defaults to fast and rough most of the time. He’s not one who likes to take his time with these things usually, so going hard is natural for him. Face buried into the mattress and he pounds you into the sheets is common, and he’ll only ever slow down if you ask him to or if he’s feeling romantic. 

Q = Quickie: He’s fine with them, they’re not preferred, but they happen and he likes them a regular amount. Most times you fuck in his office are quickies since he does have things to do. Quick relief is fine, but usually, he’ll come back for more later in the day when he can take more time with you. Quickies tend to be rougher than longer sessions, purely because he’s chasing that high for the both of you as quickly as possible. He’s really good at it too, he knows your body well enough that he can consistently get both of you to cum in about five minutes on average.

R = Risks: I don’t think he’s big on risk-taking. Obviously, he has some risky kinks like breathplay and impact play, but risk-taking? He’s not all that interested in it. He knows what he likes and he learns what you like, and that’s good enough for him. If you’re really insistent on trying something new he’ll be willing to oblige, and surprised if he finds himself enjoying it. Again, he isn’t willing to have sex in places you can be caught and he doesn’t want anyone to share you, but other than that he can be convinced to try newer and more risky things… just don’t expect him to be into it.

S = Stamina: Wriothesley has a lot of stamina, he has to if he wants to fuck as rough as he does. It’s built up through years and years of training his body through fights and a general workout routine. He can seriously go for hours and be perfectly fine, but he typically paces himself based on what you need. He may like it rough, but he doesn’t want to fuck you until you pass out (unless you’ve told him that’s what you want, it still freaks him out a little regardless). 

T = Toys: Not a fan. It’s not really an ego thing, he just would rather be the reason for your pleasure. Kinda leans into the same idea of not wanting to share you, he just doesn’t like the idea of you seeking pleasure from something other than him. If you have your own that you use when you can’t access him that’s fine, he’s not unreasonable about it, but if you have him around then why would you need anything other than him, y’know?

U = Unfair: He’s not that much of a tease, but he does tease you a bit. It’s mostly verbal teasing, cooing at you about how cute you are and how good you’re doing for him. Sometimes he’ll be a bit mean, telling you that you can do better than that, he knows you can. He also overstimulates you all the time, comes with the territory, and he’ll force orgasm after orgasm out of you until you can’t breathe. Sometimes he’ll go as far as to deny you of his dick, only letting you cum on his fingers until he’s decided you’re ready and deserving of his cock. 

V = Volume: Relatively quiet, most of his noise comes from the verbal teasing I discussed prior. He likes to talk you through things and is mostly focused on encouraging you and working you through things as they come. However, when he’s close to cumming it’s a different story. He gets pretty damn loud, groaning and muttering praises from the back of his throat. Sometimes if he’s gone for so long you can even get him to whimper and moan, but he tries his best to hide those. Mostly muffles the sounds into your skin.

W = Wild Card: Wriothesley isn’t usually a show-off in most aspects of his life. He’s rather reserved, actually, preferring to stay in the shadows unless he absolutely has to. However, there are a few places where he doesn’t mind shining. Namely, in the bedroom, he becomes rather showy of his physical capabilities. He wants you to gawk at him, to find him attractive and desirable. He isn’t all that insecure, but it makes him feel proud when he can make your jaw drop.

Another thing that might not be expected out of him, but he really likes it hairy. Now if you’re smooth down there he won’t complain, but genuinely he wants you to at least have a little bush. Something about it is just… attractive to him. He really can’t explain it, but body hair is hot and he’s sure to let you know that he does not mind it one bit.

X = X-ray: He’s pretty damn big, maybe not in comparison to someone like Neuvilette or Zhongli, but he’s impressive for a human. About 6.5 inches long and 5 inches thick, so long and girthy… you have to be prepped well to take him. It’s a bit darker than the rest of him, and his tip is an angry red, a bit flatter than most other guys, but it rubs your sweet spots in a heavenly way. There’s also a little bit of a curve to the right, not too noticeable unless you’re really looking at him. It’s veiny too, with several veins running along it.

Y = Yearning: Wriothesley doesn’t have all that high of a sex drive for the most part. He usually suppresses any yearning he might have, so he can squash any need he might have quickly. On average, he might look for sex maybe once or twice a week, though he won’t complain if you seek him out more than that. However, he does occasionally have periods of time where he’s… insatiable. They usually last a week, and they are intense. I’m saying he wants to go multiple times a day, every single day. There are breaks between, and he won’t push you further than you want to go, but they happen once every few months like a kind of heat. He won’t want to talk about it either, so it’s just an unspoken fact that Wriothesley becomes a fiend for a week sometimes. Z = Zzz: Wriothesley isn’t the one falling asleep right after, it’s almost always you. Like I said he has a lot of stamina, and he really doesn’t get all that tired after sex no matter how many times he’s cum. He’s way too focused on making sure you’re okay to fall asleep anyway. Once he’s certain that everything is all set and you’re not dying, then he’ll cuddle up to you and fall asleep with you wrapped up in his arms.

[biancadoes1]

After yesterday’s “just friends” debacle, I just can’t understand why people have to jump into other blogs to try to prove some point? Why do so many of these anon’s care that you still believe L and N are together? How does what you think or believe impact them in any way? You are not forcing anyone to be here or that everyone that follows you has to blindly agree with all of your opinions. And I have NEVER seen you in another blog trying to shove your opinions/theories down everyone’s throat. As long as people are respectful of N and L and their loved ones, and aren’t tagging them in crazy stuff, I just don’t see what the big deal is. As for me, I don’t think N and L are together now. But I still ship them and hope maybe somewhere down the line they may find their way to each other. I follow your blog for many reasons, but the #1 reason is: you are hilarious! Your responses to these asks are 🤌🏻 (chef’s kiss)! And although I don’t agree with you on everything, I appreciate reading other people’s opinions because we all clearly don’t consume this information the same way. So it’s great to have other perspectives to gain a better understanding or look at things from another angle.

My whole long winded point is… let’s all just let people ship who they want to ship, believe what they want to believe, and let’s all just hang around the blogs that bring us joy and laughter and just scroll past or block the blogs or posts that don’t.

I agree with you anon!

We don’t all have to think the same way or believe the same things.

Keep scrolling if it bothers you. It takes zero effort to ignore someone’s opinion you don’t agree with.

Stay in your lane. It’s simple!

Also……..thank you for thinking I’m funny 🥹 I’m glad to know some of you enjoy my lil jokes ❤️

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 27.

Summary: Felix takes charge of his own story, his own romance, and with intent to confront Ollie about his lies. He doesn't want you to fee like you have to do this alone. But neither does he.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. Reader's biological parents are named Pearl & Andreas.

Warnings: discussions of the reader's parents continuing to be shitty to them via legal documents and wanting nothing to do with them.

A/N: 6032 words. google 'how do words work'. also HELLO! NEW YEAR!! since we last spoke like this, i proposed to my partner (i have a fiance now!!) i took more photos in my silly, little Saltburn costumes, both as Felix and Venetia (when they say 'get u a man who can do both' they mean me), i became a licenced Dogger (if u need someone for ground rigging at an event message me) and I continued to be UNWELL about saltburn. i missed you. how was your new years? Is this chapter at all coherent. OH ALSO WE GET A FELIX CHAPTER NOW! I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOUR!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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It's your voice that echoes in Felix's mind as he tries to fall asleep that night. So often it is, but usually the words are far sweeter than the broken whisper that plays on repeat when he closes his eyes.

"I want to know why he did what he did before I tell you."

Felix is desperately trying to make himself believe that this isn't like last time, that this isn't like Eddie, but right now, from his shockingly limited perspective, it's hard not to focus in on the similarities. So he has to believe in you; if not you, then who, or what? Oliver? That's a hard no right now, but something about Oliver, despite everything has you believing, and Felix has never not trusted your judgement before. He's not going to start doubting you now.

And fucking hell, he can't even begin to process the revelation that it had been you who had caught Venetia and Eddie last Summer, not Farleigh. He might owe Farleigh an apology after all of this, or some kind of thank you basket... for what, he's not exactly sure of in this moment, but it definitely feels apt. Maybe for still putting up with him all this time, all things considered. Farleigh had never liked Oliver -

Again, Felix has to remind himself to trust in you in this moment, to breathe deep and believe it's not like last time. However the smug devil on his shoulder - that definitely looks like Farleigh wearing those two party hats and a shirt that simply says 'Easy', telling him 'I told you so' - is very loud.

But by his side, your breathing has evened out, and the air that flutters in through the half-open window is surprisingly cool for the Summer, and though the stars you'd painted and stretched across the ceiling have lost their glow after hours in the dark, if he squints, he can still make out his favourite constellations.

Felix has never been as sentimental as you, at least that's what he tells himself. That's what he lets everyone believe. If you knew better, you'd be the only one, not that you'd ever tell anyone. That's one of the many things Felix likes about you; you're sentimental enough for the both of you. The things you hold onto are so often special to the two of you; as much as Felix is glad you hold onto them, as much as he loves that they so often end up in his - your shared - room, the only person who he lets see that affectionate appreciation is you. You're the only one that matters.

He's entirely too aware of how he's perceived by others. He'd argue - again, to you alone and never anyone else - that he had to be. Felix had always been more self aware than most people liked to give him credit for, despite his best effort. Efforts to not be self aware that is, because when he thinks too hard about it, his life becomes almost claustrophobic. The privilege, the constant eyes on him, the expectations.

"You're Sir James' and Elspeth's son." Sometimes he thinks about the first conversation the two of you had shared, how you'd identified him before he'd even said his name; "you're Felix Catton." Ten years old, and the first person in all the years that Felix had already been paraded out like a show pony, to make him feel like a person.

Right now, his role had barely changed, it was that of fanciful youth; be pretty whilst headed in the direction of success. One day there'd be responsibilities, but both his parents were in good health and sound of mind, so he was to do what he pleased so long as he kept up appearances, wore a suit when they asked him to, and barked on command in front of their impressive, vapid friends.

For all that the estate dripped with it's own kind of sentimentality, it's impressive history oozing from the walls themselves, his parents, and the company they kept, so often favoured novelty. Felix does too, he knows this, he's a Catton after all... most of the time.

Sometimes, around you, and once or twice this Summer with Ollie if he's being honest, he felt like he didn't belong amidst these people, his family, at Saltburn... Or, well, no; he felt like he didn't want to belong at Saltburn.

Right now, staring up at those stars you'd painted for him all those years ago, he feels it so strongly he aches. He wants to belong to that little apartment in London you'd asked him to run away to, wanted to belong to something that wasn't a sister who'd roll her eyes at his heartbreak, or parents who'd sweep it under the rug. His role in this home, this family, had never been one that allowed for him to be broken hearted. For Venetia, it had always seemed almost expected, but Felix was expected to be the one breaking hearts if he was ever in that situation.

Love was meant to be freeing. For most of his life, it had been. After all it's why he'd always been so grateful to have found you so early in life. He knows it's a big part of the reason his family had taken to you so quickly, why his parents had allowed you to stay, to get so close.

Felix closes his eyes and he still sees the stars above.

Still, sleep eludes him. If you can tell, or if you could feel the absent-minded way he was still stroking your back when you'd woken up and realised he hadn't thought to stop, you don't say anything. The air is different, Felix is exhausted already, and you are tender with him. You always are, but this morning is different. Almost difficult for you.

It's soothing to focus on you. He knows you've always struggled when confronted with a problem you felt like you weren't allowed to solve, however he's grateful that you're letting him step up. He's done being passive, done being the one in this relationship that things just happen to at the behest of the people around him. That's his usual role when there's even a hint of genuine emotional investment. It's suffocating; like his role at Saltburn, his role as Future Lord Catton, he doesn't want to belong in that neatly defined identity.

Felix wants, no, he needs to believe he can do for himself what you've always happily done for him. So he's grateful that you're letting him try... even if he sees how uncomfortable you are, how you're holding yourself back from offering to make all his troubles go away, if only he'd ask. Usually, he didn't even have to do that. Now, you can't even look at him, can't stand to see him exhausted and unhappy and being unable to help. You'll spiral, or break the agreement the two of you had come to the night before, so you don't look at Felix. But he looks at you.

Even with all the emotional turmoil the two of you found yourselves in with Oliver, there's no doubt about you in Felix's mind. Honestly, he's even ashamed that there ever was back at Oxford, even if it was only akin to a heartbeat of time in your relationship.

Except that wasn't the whole truth. That golden afternoon he still recalls so clearly, you surrounded by newspapers, searching for Ollie's dad's obituary to try and memorialise the man who, by all accounts, didn't deserve it. Felix has always kind of known that you were far better than he deserved. It was never you he doubted, it was himself.

He hated that he'd made you cry that afternoon, hated that you'd so clearly seen and spelled out how scared he was of the idea of you finding someone better than him, someone like Ollie who could love you, could treat you right, without needing Felix as an audience. Hated that you were right. Hated everything that said about him. Most of all, he hated how he couldn't even bring himself to ask the one goddamn question you wanted him to.

Could you love someone without me?

The thought of any answer was terrifying to him at the time.

If you'd answered yes, he'd have to face the idea of a life without you, no matter how small the possibility. But if your answer was no, he knows all he'd feel is guilt. Even if he'd pretended not to notice, he'd loved Eddie without you. Felix had still loved you, he's certain he'll never stop, but as much as you'd liked Eddie before he'd come to Saltburn, you never loved him.

And even if he ignored every single red flag at the time, Felix knew in his heart that Eddie had never really even cared about you as a person. Then again, had he even cared about Felix? Considering what happened last Summer, how things had ended, how Felix has never heard from him since, he - he doesn't want to think about it. It's in the past, he tells himself.

But Felix loves this thing between you, Oliver, and himself more than he'd ever loved what he had with Eddie. Felix isn't afraid of the question anymore, because he knows you well enough to know your answer would be just the same as his. It's the essentially the same answer he'd given that night he'd asked if you could live without him.

Even if I could, I wouldn't want to.

Which is why he's doing this. Because despite all his attempts at denial, he loved Ollie, and you love Ollie, and aside from this one issue - and the subsequent lying - it seemed that Ollie loved you both too. So he has to do this; you've been caught in the crossfire of Ollie's lies for Felix's sake, now it's his turn to step up and sort things out. Make things right.

That's why he watches you, he's doing this so he can see you smile again. Without hesitation, or reservation just behind your eyes.

And right now you aren't even able to smile.

Nothing feels real at breakfast. Felix thinks he can taste static. No Farleigh. Ollie, oblivious. Venetia reading at the table and avoiding looking at anyone. His parents, as always, in their own, little bubble.

"Venetia, please no headphones at the table," Elspeth sighs. Venetia sighs louder, but obliges without looking up. She's not even pretending to eat breakfast with them this morning, book open on her empty plate as she sips tea. The only person she engages with is James, who asks about her book. Venetia doesn't even look up, and her voice is forcibly light, like it alone can mask how she looks like she'd rather be anywhere else.

"I forgot we had it," she admits softly, though her next words have Felix instinctively scowling, "I think Pearl left it here for Farleigh a few years ago after one of those Arts dinners, but he's never touched it. It's a biography of that performance artist in New York, the controversial one, Marina Abramović. I found it going through his room the other day."

"The one that Aunt Fred cheated on her husband with?" Felix can't help but ask as the name lights up something in the back of his mind.

"Supposedly," Venetia's tone is dismissive, and she turns to the next page, "Farleigh thinks it's a load of bull his dad was spouting when he found out we'd cut her off, but I have seen Fredricka Start mentioned as a collaborator here. Maybe Aunt Fred did have a lesbian affair with a controversial, Serbian, performance artist. Seems like something she'd do."

Before Felix can even process any of this, James steers the conversation away from his estranged sister's potential affair with all the subtlety of a bulldozer, asking if the book itself was any good. Shrugging, Venetia takes another sip of tea, sounding so utterly nonchalant.

"I'm still making my mind up about it, I'll tell you when I'm done."

Remembering the utter state you'd been in last night coming back from spending time with Venetia, Felix can't help but hope his sister is hurting over whatever words the two of you had shared.

It seems Duncan senses the strangeness too, as he's uncharacteristically mobile, at least for him, making the rounds about the table when they all know the maids are more than capable of collecting the dishes themselves. Felix watches him circle like a vulture.

For just a moment, their eyes meet. Usually looking into Duncan's eyes is like gazing at a stone wall of unshakeable professionalism, today however there was... something there. Something utterly unreadable. Still, it was an anomaly. Duncan definitely feels the strangeness in the room.

"Is there anything I can get you, Felix?" He sounds as curt as ever though. Felix gives a practiced smile, declining. Finally, he looks away. Duncan gives a moment of pause before adding, "anything for the Captain?" When Felix looks back to him, he sees the way Duncan's eyes flick to you, by Felix's side, how he must sees what Felix does in his peripheries - the barest shake of your head that he's sure all others at the table miss, but Felix and Duncan never would - but he still waits for Felix's answer. Because you too are quiet, in trapped in your own mind in a way none of you can articulate, but all seem to understand.

"No, they're fine," Felix gives a more genuine smile, "thank you, Duncan." Duncan nods, stepping back from where he'd been hovering by Elspeth's chair, striding over to take Venetia's empty tea cup and pass it on to a bemused, waiting housemaid.

"Are you alright, Pet, you seem rather out of sorts this morning," Felix and Duncan's interaction had caught his otherwise oblivious mother's attention, as she finally turned to you. As if woken from a trance, you look up to Elspeth, almost surprised by the question.

"Yeah, I -" but you take a moment to breathe. Beneath the table, Felix gently pets your thigh in silent support. After taking a moment to compose yourself, you start again, "I think I may have to quarantine myself in the study for the morning," you sighed, though your smile doesn't reach your eyes. When Elspeth asks if you're feeling alright, you give a humourless laugh, gaze going back to your food. You take another bite before explaining, "I'm fine, however this contract from Andreas and Pearl gets more convoluted and ridiculous the further I read; I think a quarantine is the only way to save you all from their toxic bullshit."

"Have you had a lawyer look it over?" James asks with genuine interest, putting down his paper, but your expression just scrunched up with vague confusion.

"I think that breaks the contract?"

"That you haven't signed?" Ollie points out. Clearly your mind has actually switched to thinking about the contract, rather than the clusterfuck of a situation with Ollie himself, because you do take his words onboard.

"Which I haven't signed," you agreed, face scrunching up further, as if you're trying to recall details outlined in the document itself, "I think if I'm able to find an untraceable way to contact them, um, somehow indirectly, they might send me a lawyer of my own?" You don't exactly sound sure, however you follow it up with a humourless smile, "but if I contact them directly, I believe they think it will curse my entire bloodline, even retroactively, and therefore they will trebuchet me directly into the sun."

Despite everything Felix laughs at that, as does Venetia. Farleigh would have too, if he were here.

"Darling, they're not going to trebuchet you into the sun -" Elspeth tries to soothe you, surprisingly genuine care in her tone.

"Mum, I think you underestimate how much Andreas loves that stupid trebuchet he built during college," you respond flippantly, before gesturing to James at the end of the table, "you helped, didn't you? You know he loves it."

"I-" James actually seems a little surprised, taking a moment to recall what you were speaking of, "I had forgotten all about that, but yes," he begins to smile fondly, "quite an impressive feat we pulled off that Summer, building that - was it a trebuchet? Have I've been misremembering it as a ballista all these years?"

While James was fondly caught up in his reminiscing, Elspeth just looked a little forlorn. However Oliver, seemingly bewildered by the entire concept, can't help but voice his surprise.

"You spent your Summer building an actual trebuchet with Y/N's dad?"

"Yes, I suppose I did," James chuckled, "at the end of our first year, I believe, just a few months before Andreas and Pearl got engaged. Andreas invited myself and a few of our mates to stay at his family's townhouse in - oh, it was so long ago now - Kensington, I think? Four of us from Oxford, Andreas, and his brothers, all working on this project and otherwise having a grand, old time around London."

"Wait, was that the Summer you kept running into Freddie Mercury and his husband?" Venetia piped up, to which James smiled broadly.

"Garden Lodge was just a few doors down," he enthused brightly, "it seemed like every other day Jim would have to come and collect one of their cats from where we were working; Delilah was very fond of Andreas especially."

Felix himself is bewildered by the information; he knew your parents attended Oxford at the same time as his, but sometimes he forgot that they were actually friends before you and Felix got involved. Of course he kind of knew, considering both of your mothers' heavy involvement in the Arts' Collective, but to think his father had once spent a Summer with your own... It felt uncomfortable in ways Felix hadn't expected.

But when he looks back to you, there's something faraway in your gaze. Your smile doesn't even begin to reach your eyes.

"He's still very proud of it, I'm sure," you tell him with as much warmth as you're able, "the trebuchet, I mean," which Felix knew to mean 'he was proud of it when I was a child, but I haven't spoken to him in years'.

"Darling," Elspeth brings the conversation back around, her tone firm but sweet as she reiterates, "they're not going to trebuchet you into the sun."

At face value it sounds ridiculous, but there's something about how his mother can see through your hyperbole to how genuinely hurt you are by the whole situation that makes Felix quietly marvel. Even with all of her strangeness about you, your identity, and even your relationship with Felix at times, she honestly cares about you. Sometimes she seems to see you as clearly as Felix does.

Maybe she can help Felix see the whole situation with Ollie more clearly too.

In the moment that follows, you let the tension in you break for just a moment, fixing an endeared smile upon Elspeth for her kindness.

"I know," you assured her sincerely, "I'll be okay, I'm going to give nan a call and talk things through with her." With that, you stand, having had enough of this charade for the time being.

"Good," Elspeth nodded firmly, then adding, "give her my love."

"I always do," this time, your smile is entirely genuine, and for just a moment you turn it upon Felix. There's actual amusement as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

"Am I allowed in the quarantine zone?" He can't help but tease in an attempt to play along and lighten your mood; your smile, for just a moment, widens.

"Even you, my love, are excluded," though you pause, giving it some thought, "until lunch." But then, as you contemplate leaving, as you seem to remember the totality of your situation, you face starts to fall. Felix takes your hand, giving it a squeeze, which you return, and press a kiss to the top of his head.

And then you're gone.

Ollie's looking at the doors you'd just left through, and Felix wonders if his concern is at all genuine. But before anyone can say anything else, Felix turns to his mother, trying his best to keep the mood light.

"Mum, could I have a word with you after breakfast?"

Immediately Venetia's head shoots up, looking sharply at Felix. It's a struggle to keep his focus on his mother's surprise and act like his sister's sudden attention in his peripheries didn't make his blood burn. She should be scared.

"Of course, Felix," Elspeth actually seems delighted that he wants to spend time with her, though for a moment her brow furrows, "is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course," he lies easily, "Y/N was just telling me about some stuff they wanted to chat to you about, and I said I could talk to you about it if they wanted to focus on their family stuff this morning. They made me a list," he adds for good measure. Elspeth's concern softens to understanding. Her thoughtful, helpful boy, he can almost hear her thoughts. Technically she's right.

Venetia's expression is sour, but she goes back to her book.

"Darling," Elspeth turns to James, who once again lowers his paper to give her his attention, "you were going to head into town this morning, were you not?"

"Yes," James perked up considerably, suddenly enthusiastic about his day, "one of the boys back from when I played polo invited some of the team to catch up over fish and chips," he seemed positively gleeful at the very novelty of the idea, "at a pub! I should be back before dinner."

"Oh, that sounds marvellous, I hope you have a wonderful time," Elspeth coos, before turning back to Felix, "would you like to have morning tea on the balcony of the sitting room next to your father's study?"

"Sounds perfect, mum."

However as he leaves the table, he's quickly followed by Ollie, who's asking what's wrong the minute they're alone.

"What?"

"What's wrong," Ollie repeats in earnest, "with you, with Y/N, with Venetia? Everything feels a bit off, you know? But I don't know why." He knows exactly why, the lying, little - but that thought's cut short. Considering the company his parents' keep, Felix knows all too well what fake concern looks like; Ollie is being infuriatingly genuine.

"My best mate's family is attempting to excommunicate them," Felix says through his teeth, gazing anywhere but at Ollie, "Venetia-" he huffs an irate sigh, lying when he says, "I couldn't begin to guess at the source of her mood, you'd have to ask her," which he regrets as soon as he says it; the last thing he wants is Ollie spending any more time with Venetia, especially when she's particularly volatile.

Rocking back on his heels, Ollie takes a beat to consider this, before ultimately coming to accept it. Side by side, they start back towards their rooms in silence. There's anger simmering just beneath Felix's skin, but if he opens his mouth, all he's going to do is start shouting. Being alone next to Ollie less than twelve hours after your revelations and his subsequent taking of responsibilities, not to mention his utter lack of sleep, means he's definitely not in his right mind to have a reasonable conversation about... well, anything.

"I want to know why he did what he did before I tell you."

That's what you'd kept repeating. Felix wants to be in a state of mind where he can get that information out of Ollie before actually passing judgement. But it was fucking difficult if he was being honest.

And outside of his room, Ollie apologises quietly. Felix keeps his mouth shut, but suddenly is levelling his furious gaze upon Ollie. Who doesn't see it. He's looking at the ground.

"S-sorry about Pearl and, um, their dad," he clarifies into the silence, "I can't remember his name."

"Andreas," Felix bites out automatically. Ollie's expression wrinkles reflexively; it's almost amusing, the way his reflexes give away his disdain for just the name itself. It's a wanky, asshole name, for a wanky, asshole man.

"Right," Ollie quickly recovers, finally meeting Felix's gaze. Thankfully the intensity of that gaze had softened, "I don't think they'll ever apologise, but I think Y/N deserves an apology," he admits. It's... conflicting; the sentiment is sweet, but Ollie has so much more he actually has to apologise for. Felix keeps his mouth shut. Clearing his throat, Ollie doesn't seem to be done, "but at least they're not Y/N's actual family," and in seeing Felix's faint confusion, he actually smiles, that small, sweet smile that's frustratingly endearing, "you are," he explained, "they said so themselves; you and Venetia and your mum and dad. Pearl and Andreas are excommunicating them, they've got better family than that."

Felix kind of hates how much he loves Oliver Quick and his thoughtful, insightful mind. How can he say things while Felix is mad at him that still make him want to sweep Ollie off his feet and kiss him? Bastard.

"It's what they deserve," Felix finally manages, reaching out to his doorknob, feeling the conversation coming to a close, "we love them a lot."

"Me too," Ollie agrees quietly, opening his own door, "hope morning tea with your mum is nice, I think I'm going to head down to the pool."

And he leaves Felix alone with his thoughts.

The minute he's in his room, Felix closes his curtains and flops into bed. One of the staff will come and fetch him when his mother is ready for morning tea. After this morning and all of last night, the only thing Felix knows for certain is that he can't have another serious conversation without at least an hour of sleep.

Thankfully he gets that hour. Actually his mother has the grace to give him several, as Duncan comes to collect him just before eleven. Felix feels like a child, still yawning and shuffling his feet for at least half the journey as the butler always stays three steps ahead. As if Felix could get lost in his own home. The only person who's ever been better than him at hide and seek around Saltburn was Venetia, and only because she's smaller and can fit in more obscure places.

All that to say that he doesn't need Duncan to lead him to his mother's favourite sitting room, but that's just how things have always worked around the estate. Felix doesn't even think to comment on it beyond thanking the head of staff as Duncan lets him in after a cursory knock on the door.

Felix has always liked his mother's favourite sitting room. It's one of the few rooms in the house that actually feels like someone lives there. It's where his mother keeps the portrait James commissioned of their family when Felix was a child. He remembers how his parents wanted the experience to be authentic, just as the royals on their walls would have had. It had been a real bonding experience for the Catton siblings, who absolutely hated said 'authentic' experience; right next to the beautiful, oil painting, Elspeth had lovingly framed the hand written letter a six-year-old Felix and eight-year-old Venetia had angrily written together, threatening to call the government if they were ever made to stay that still for that long in clothes that itchy ever again.

There's framed photos his mother loves but feels like she can't display in the rest of the house - unflattering or overexposed photos full of motion, and laughter, and love. An uneven throw that Venetia had made for a school assessment over the back of a sofa, accompanied by an lumpy, little pillow Felix had made for a similar school project only a few years later, amongst others bought from expensive, eclectic stores over the years. All the letters James had written Elspeth whenever they were away from each other, from the week they'd begun dating, to the day they got married, professionally bound amongst other coffee table books.

Gilded glimpses of his family's humanity.

If things somehow work out with Ollie, Felix makes a mental note to bring him here and show him every last thing. He'd never even thought to show Eddie this room, his mother had never even brought it up last Summer, though perhaps it was for the best. Or perhaps it was on purpose.

Elspeth is absolutely thrilled that he wanted to spend time with her. Before he's even halfway across the sitting room itself, she's off of the sofa on the balcony, and has met him halfway, kissing him on both cheeks with the biggest smile. Then she's taking his hand, asking him if he was able to get any more rest, as she leads him out to the little balcony, and the tea and biscuits waiting for them.

Felix tells her he had as he sits down beside her, but Elspeth takes gentle hold of his face, expression concerned. He knows he still looks tired before she even says anything.

Something in his mother's eyes changes, like she can see the sword of Damocles held aloft by a gossamer thread above his head. Usually she shies away from moments like this, from ugly ideas like heartbreak and discomfort, but she sits with him in this moment, quiet, giving him space and time to find his voice.

For just a moment he is a child again, and he is exhausted.

"I'm always glad to spend time with you, my darling," Elspeth tells him with the kind of softness he rarely hears from her anymore. She squishes his cheeks fondly, and Felix, going with his youthful impulse, shifts on the sofa so he can lay his head in her lap, squeezing his eyes shut.

He's too big for the tiny sofa at the best of times, but they make do, with Elspeth gently stroking his hair as she finally decides to break the silence.

"I was thinking of having Nana Bijou over, I'd love for her to meet Ollie," she says carefully; Felix can't manage more than a noncommittal hum right now. Depending on how things go with Ollie, he may have to talk his mum out of that idea, but he doesn't want to tip his hand just yet, "actually I was wondering what you would think if I invited her to Ollie's birthday."

Your Nana would probably have a blast at what you and Elspeth already had planned for the event, but Felix still held reservations. As cool as she was, he wasn't sure he wanted her to see either you or himself shitfaced, and no matter how things turned out with Ollie, Felix still kind of wanted the party to go ahead either way.

And if it went bad he'd definitely be shitfaced.

"Maybe," is all he can give his mother in this moment. It's like he can feel his mother's concern in the face of his perceived apathy; Felix loved your Nana as much as he hated your parents, his apathy was worryingly uncharacteristic, "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," Felix admits softly after a long sigh.

"I could tell," Elspeth gives his cheek a sympathetic pat, though she chooses to follow it up with - "though I must admit, that was my concern with you and Y/N sharing a room."

"Oh god, mum, not like that!" Felix hissed, mortified, his whole face scrunching up with embarrassment.

"Though I suppose I was fighting fate with that one, wasn't I?" She continues blithely, and Felix sits up, hunching over with his face in his hands.

"That's not- mum, please, I wanted to actually talk to you about something serious, can you not do this -" Felix groaned, and when he lowers his hands, he tries to give his mother an imploring look.

"Oh God, darling, please don't tell me you're pregnant," Elspeth bemoaned, expression practically pleading, "I'm too young to be a grandmother." This... wasn't the direction he'd been expecting. Actually, it might be worse.

"I'm... not?"

"You don't sound sure; is Y/N pregnant?"

"No," Felix answers flatly, but his confusion is only heightened as his mother continues on.

"It's not Oliver, is it?"

"It... it kind of is." His exhaustion and confusion are definitely about Oliver -

"He's pregnant?!"

"What?! No! Mum, what?!" This conversation is quickly veering out of control, and Felix has absolutely no way of stopping it. Unfortunately, his mother doesn't slow down.

"I'm sorry, I had assumed it would be either you or Y/N -"

"Why? Why would you assume that?" Felix tries to wrap his head around this, but it's not quite working, "especially me, the son you gave birth to?"

"Oh, Felix, please don't remind me," Elspeth mutter, looking vaguely squeamish, "I spent a lot of time repressing those memories."

"Isn't it the birth of your children meant to be the happiest days of your life?"

"Don't take it personally, dear; I love you, but I never enjoyed bringing you or your sister into this world. Hospitals are dreadfully ugly, even the nice ones, and the smell -" before she can continue, however, Felix cuts her off.

"Sorry, I just - I tell you I want to talk to you about something serious, and your first thought is that my best mate got me pregnant? I cannot stress this enough, mum, I am physically incapable of getting pregnant. I do not have the equipment."

"Which is why I then asked about Y/N -"

"Mum -"

"Well I don't know, Felix!" Elspeth huffed, "what was I meant to think when you and your- your- your gender-defying- subverting- whatever they are -"

"Non-binary, mum," Felix corrects automatically, but Elspeth continues like she hadn't heard him.

"- when the two of you are loudly debasing yourselves all over the estate?"

"Oh my god," oh, Felix kind of hates this.

"Don't be ashamed, dear, the rest of us just tend to avoid your wing of the house after sunset; it's not that hard, it's a big house. As long as you're both happy," Elspeth insists, before offering casually, "and I think Pamela, god rest her soul, was telling me about male seahorses just before she left -"

"I'm not a seahorse!" Felix cuts her off loudly, unable to believe this was a real conversation he was having, "I'm not pregnant! No-one's pregnant!" He throws his hands in the air, "I think I'm in love with Oliver, fuck, that's what I came here to talk about!"

"Oh thank god," Elspeth breathes with a laugh, petting Felix's knee. Her earlier concern has evaporated and she fixes him with a fond smile, "I know, sweetheart. Your father and I love you very much, and we always have, no matter who you love. We're glad you and Y/N have found such a beautifully interesting man who makes you both happy," she tells him pointedly, as if his whole point was that he was worried about coming out to her. Christ, like he hadn't explicitly introduced them to his whole boyfriend the year before.

Like you and Felix had any idea what the hell subtlety was when you were at Saltburn.

So maybe his mother sees the situation too clearly, if she can see how in love you and Felix both are with Ollie.

And maybe, despite her best efforts, she wasn't someone who could help Felix sort out all the bullshit in his head and heart. He'd have to bite the bullet and just talk to Ollie... preferably soon, because the stress was going to give him a headache. He has no idea how you held out for days, over a week, with this kind of thing weighing on you.

At least if things went well, he knew his mother liked Ollie.

But wait, what was that last bit?

"'Makes both of us happy'?" Felix frowned, "what's that supposed to mean?"

It was Elspeth's turn to look tired.