#and then again when he decided he was going to be fire lord despite DEFINITELY no longer being eligible (bc. y'know. TREASON) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zvtara-was-never-canon · 5 months

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you once said that the ZK do not allow the canonical Zuko to show real, sometimes ugly signs of trauma. can you write more about this? because that's what I always felt when I came across their terrible takes, but I couldn't express it.

Gladly! But first, I need to mention the sign of trauma that Zuko usually lacks - and that, for some reason, the fandom insists defines his character:

Fear

Don't get wrong, I'm not saying Zuko never experienced fear. We all saw that poor boy on his knees, crying, begging his father not to hurt him.

But in "Zuko Alone" we also see 10-year-old Zuko get bitter that only his younger sister was expected to show off her firebending skills, and deciding that he would go against his father and demonstrate his own skills to the Fire Lord - that despite the fact that he knew Azula was better at it than he was. Even when it goes wrong, he is upset, but doesn't look afraid of the consequences.

That same episode shows Azula mocking him for playing with knives despite not even being good at it, and even though the fandom insists she was his worst fear ever since he was a child, Zuko responds with a "Put an apple on your head and we'll see how good I am." That little guy has exactly zero chill.

Let's not forget why he was banished either: Despite being considered too young to be in that war meeting, Zuko demanded to be there, eventually got his way, and despite having been told not to say anything, the second he hears a general suggest using their own men as "fresh meat" to lure the enemy, Zuko speaks out against it. And at the start of the Agni Kai, he looked 100% ready to fight a grown ass man with battle experience - until he saw it was his father/Fire Lord.

Let's not forget his Agni Kai with Zhao, which was his idea and that he actually won - and before that, he openly calls Ozai a fool, to which Zhao points out that banishment clearly not teach Zuko to watch his mouth. Or the time he openly challenged Azula in Ba Sing Se and they only didn't fight then and there because Azula knew she'd have the advantage by using the Dai Li. Hell, at the start of that very season, after she tried to lure him to a trap, Zuko's first reaction is to charge at her, fire-daggers in hand. That boy is the definition of "Fuck around and find out."

He has also done things like choosing to save his uncle from earthbenders instead of chasing Aang, crossing a blockade and going into actual Fire Nation territory even though he legally is no longer allowed to do that, and helped rescue Aang from Zhao as the Blue Spirit. It shows us that Zuko doesn't have an issue with temporarely deviating from his mission because of something HE deems important even though his father doesn't, openly disregarding Ozai's orders, and even basically saying "My father will have the Avatar as a prisoner only if I'm the one to capture him"

And, of course, on the day of the eclipse, Zuko grabs his swords and directly threatens Ozai, telling that bastard to sit the fuck down, shut up, and listen to his list of reasons why he sucks as a parent, ruler and person.

Zuko is brave. Unbelievably so. He is fierce, proud, and impulsive to the point of getting himself in situations that he should have known would not go his way (like fighting a waterbender in the snow, in the full moon) because he is very much a "act first, think later" kind of guy. So the fandom's insistence that he is constantly paralyzed by fear is a gross over-simplification of how his trauma affects him.

We only see him genuinely afraid of Ozai twice. During the Agni Kai itself, and then again when he WANTS to speak out against his father's plan to burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground, but can't bring himself to because he remembers what happened last time he spoke out against that kind of horrible thing during a war meeting, at that very room. It took something THAT triggering to make him cower before a challenge.

However, fear wasn't the only reason why didn't speak out during that moment, and that takes us to the first "ugly" sign of trauma that the fandom as a whole likes to pretend Zuko wasn't repeatedly shown to experience:

"My father is right about me, actually"

Zuko doesn't think Ozai was wrong to disfigure and banish him. How could he? Nobody in that entire room stood up to at least try to support him, not even his uncle - who also once said "Why would your father have banished you if he didn't care about you?" because, surprise surprise, nobody in that family knows how to help someone through trauma because they're all dealing with their own shit. Even his crew, who WAS sympathetic to him after finding out how he got that scar, were still 100% willing to not only support Ozai, but risk their lives for him.

Zuko isn't just trying to heal from abuse, he is trying to heal from victim-blaming, and to go against YEARS of indoctrination that say the Fire Lord can do no wrong. That's part of why it was so difficult for Iroh and others to help him: Zuko didn't believe that he needed or deserved help.

And that is also one of his three major unhealthy coping mechanisms. Claiming that HE needs to prove himself to Ozai, that HE needs to make up for HIS mistakes, not the other way around.

It might seem strange that this could be a way to cope, but look at it this way: If it WAS his fault instead of Ozai's, then that means his dad is not an unfair, abusive piece of shit that is unbelievably cruel and impossible to please. Zuko just needs to accomplish this mission of capturing the Avatar and everything will be fine, they'll be a normal family again, and he won't have to be afraid of someone he thought he could trust.

It was like Iroh said: Things are never going to be the same ever agin, but the Avatar gives Zuko HOPE. And that hope that his abuser will one day have a change of heart and be a loving father to him again is both what allows Zuko not to give into despair - and what keeps him trapped in that awful situation.

Misplaced Anger

Another "unpleasant" sign of trauma that Zuko has is how he clearly has an anger problem. Sure, he's a moody teenager with a short fuse, but we see over and over again that he tends to blow things way out of proportion, and that when faced a fact or opinion he doesn't like, he is quick to lash out at someone with VERY cruel words (see him calling Iroh a lazy, shallow, jealous old man in "Avatar State", or calling him crazy and saying if he wasn't in prison, he'd be sleeping in a gutter in "The Headband").

Through the entire show, many people faced Zuko's wrath - Iroh, Aang and friends, his crew, Azula, innocent people of the Earth Kingdom, Mai, Ty Lee, that one rando that talked to Mai, and even Zuko himself.

The one person that usually escapes said wrath is, ironically, Ozai. In "Zuko Alone" he refuses to believe his father would ever be capable of harming him, in "Avatar State" he snaps at Iroh for doubting that Ozai really changed his mind about the whole banishment thing.

He is mad at Aang for being too difficult to capture, and at Zhao for stealing his one chance to come home. He never stops to question if it's fair that his father had him chase someone that was presumed dead, aka an impossible task, as the condition to bring him home. He also never addresses how he feels about the reason WHY said banishment happened until the Day Of Black Sun.

He is mad at Azula for lying to him and trying to take him home as a prisoner. He never gets mad at his father for not only wanting to lock him away forever because ZHAO screwed up at the North Pole, nor how messed up it was that he put Azula in charge of said mission.

For fuck's sake, in the day of the eclipse, we find out that Zuko legit believed his mother was DEAD - and the entire circumstance was shady as hell and put Ozai in a very bad light. Yet Zuko still wanted his love, still wanted to be a "worthy" son.

He HAS to direct his anger at other people, otherwise he'll realize that no, his father, the adult that was meant to care for him, is a complete monster.

Everytime Zuko lashes out at other people before confronting Ozai, he's basically acting like someone who is drowning and, in a panic, is trying to pull the nearest person under so he can try to breathe. It is one of the most accurate and honest representations of trauma and abuse, and it makes me SO mad when people erase it in their fics because "poor, innocent, helpless turtleduck that can do no wrong" makes Zuko look like less of a dick - and also completely strips him of his agency.

And that isn't even the thing that fans ignore the most. That "honor" goes to the simple fact that Zuko, as expected of a child raised to believe the Fire Lord can do no wrong, decided that Azula had the right idea and that the best way to avoid being a victim again was...

Copying His Abuser

Zuko has REPEATEDLY let his "inner Ozai" out through the show.

He is all manipulative by not letting the pirates know he was chasing the Avatar who was worth A LOT more than the scrowl they'd get as a reward for helping him, and by using Katara's necklace as a way to try and get her to say where Aang was.

He repeatedly steals stuff from innocent people (including some who helped him, like Song) because, in his own words "These people should just be giving stuff to us" - aka he's very much an entitled prince.

He betrays his uncle by joining Azula in Ba Sing Se, leading to Iroh being thrown in prison. He also doesn't give a shit when Katara says "I thought you had changed!" and he sends a freaking assassin after the Gaang. Even him refusing to tell Azula that there was a chance Aang could still be alive works both as a "Zuko doesn't trust Azula to not use that against him, and for good reason" and "Zuko did not even stop to think that, since Azula was the one who killed Aang, him coming back also puts HER in danger, because he's too focused on his own problems to notice anybody else's."

More importantly, he rejected a chance of a ceasefire with the Gaang three times (The Blue Spirit, The Chase, Crossroads of Destiny), much like Ozai refused his shot at ending the war in the finale before his battle with Aang, and not only did he challenge Zhao to an Agni Kai and seriously consider burning him, he also threatened one of his crewmen by saying he'd "teach him respect" - which we found out later that episode was what Ozai right before disfiguring poor Zuko.

For fuck's sake, Ozai was literally designed to look like an older Zuko. One without a scar, one that was never banished, one that never had to see first-hand all the death and suffering war brings and reflect on the role he plays in it.

Finally, we have the war meetings in "Nightmares And Daydreams", in which Zuko doesn't speak out against his father's completely inhumane plans to deal with the Earth Kingdom. When talking about it with Mai, he says "I was the perfect prince, the son my father wanted. But I wasn't me."

That is the turning point for Zuko for a reason. It's him finally being forced to acknowledge that, to become Ozai's ideal son, to earn his (conditional) love, to not be his victim he has to be just as bad as he is, just as cruel, just as unfair - and we see in Azula's breakdown how Zuko likely would have ended up if he accepted that path.

But he didn't, and that was not easy because even though it was the morally correct choice, it'd require him to sacrifice everything - his title as a prince, his right to be in the Fire Nation, his relationship with Mai, his (extremelly complicated, sometimes good, often awful) bond with Azula, the "easy" way to get literally anything he wanted at everyone else's expense, and, of course, accept that his father was never going to love him, was never going to change, and was never going to feel sorry for abusing him.

Erasing such a central conflict of his character for the sake of denying he ever did anything wrong is, ironically, removing one of Zuko's most noble character traits: his inability to just live with himself after doing something horrible. There's a reason he is in deep conflict even after getting everything he wanted after the fall of Ba Sing Se - he knows he doesn't deserve it after what he's done.

If you ignore his mistakes and the horrible consequences it had for other people, you also ignore Zuko's growth. This puts him more in the position of a good guy being held hostage by the evil villain, not of a troubled child that redeems himself as he matures.

No flaws, no mistakes, no growth, no arc.

Trauma Doesn't Just Go Away

This one is, by far, the bad trope regarding Zuko's trauma that Zutarians are the most guilt of: assuming that if he just gets enough comforting hugs (mainly from Katara), all of his inner turmoil will suddenly be healed. No more sadness, no more fear, no more of the ugly traits they never acknowledge in the first place. Just a happy, fully recovered Zuko.

But that's just not how these things work. Having the support of a loved one helps victims feel better, but it won't magically make everything okay. Trauma is a really difficult thing to handle. There's good days, bad days, relapses, bad habits that are difficult to move past from. And not only are there cases in which people take YEARS to recover, there are also cases in which they never fully heal, and instead just learn to live with that burden that is still very much present.

I understand the desire to show in fics and headcanons that Zuko will eventually be fully healed and happy, but the way Zutarians make Katara act as not just his girlfriend, but as basically his therapist that needs to find miracle solutions for every single one of his problems, comfort him whenever any minor inconvenience happens until he's gotten enough hugs to be magically okay doesn't just reveal how hypocritical they are, since they insist Kataang is about Katara being Aang's girlfriend/mom/baby-sitter, but also that they legit do not understand a damn thing about trauma and how it works.

Which takes me to:

How Mai Actually Did Right By Zuko

Poor, poor Mai. She gets blamed for "bring out the worst in Zuko", for not being "supportive", for being too cold and unemotional, for not "seeing the real him" - yet she's one of the characters that CONSISTENLY help put Zuko back on his track.

She offers him emotional support and lots of signs of affection over and over again - telling him not worry when they're arriving at the Fire Nation, pointing out she doesn't hate him when she says she's beautiful when she hates the world, explicitly saying she cares about him in The Beach, being incredibly sweet and loving to him during all of Nightmares and Daydreams, and then again in the finale by helping him get dressed up and acting all cute as they get back together.

But she also holds him accountable when he screws up. She doesn't let him use his difficult life as an excuse to be a jerk and calls him out when he's being unreasonable, or when she feels mistreated/like he's making a mistake (see The Beach and Boiling Rock Part 2).

But since the fandom loves to completely erase Zuko's mistakes AND to not let go of a stupid ship war, this completely changes the context, making Mai out to be this awful, bitchy girlfriend, when in reality, she did a great job handling Zuko - sometimes even better than the fan favorite and mentor figure Zuko had through most of his arc.

Uncle Iroh Fucked Up

Before all of you try to kill me, let me make one thing clear here: I love Uncle Iroh. He is one of the most awesome characters in the show, and I fully believe he was trying his best to help Zuko.

But he is still a human being that makes mistakes, and he was raised in the same dysfunctional family Zuko was, meaning he often had NO IDEA how to handle his deeply traumatized teenage nephew/son.

Him spending all of book 1 trying to help Zuko capture Aang so he could go back to living with the guy that disfigured him is already bad enough, but we also have the episode "Avatar State" in which Iroh asks "Why would your father banish you if he didn't care about you?"

Obviously he only did these things because he didn't want Zuko give into despair and depression - but he is still, at best, ignoring the issue, and at worst actively making excuses for Ozai's abuse of his own son. This backfires on him spectacularly, as Zuko sides with Azula over him both in the first and last episode of the season specifically because he believes that appeasing Ozai is the right thing to do, as he was only banished "for his own good."

But THE biggest mistake Iroh made when it came to helping Zuko was his refusal to accept that no, Zuko was never going to be happy by living a quiet, simple life in Ba Sing Se - even after Zuko explicitly said as much to his face.

Obviously, to some extent, Iroh HAS to make Zuko accept that he won't ever be able to come back home after Ozai literally ordered Azula to capture him, but he could have tried to find some kind of middle ground with Zuko, since being a waiter clearly wasn't making him happy.

"Oh, but what about how Zuko started acting after his metamorphosis? He was so happy about working on the tea-shop with his uncle, and that was supposed to reveal his true self!"

Yes, it was supposed to do that. But we saw how Zuko acted after actually dealing with his trauma and redeeming himself. He was obviously in a much healthier place, both mentally and spiritually, but he was still moody, still sarcastic, still as proud as ever, and even Iroh recognized that he was meant to be Fire Lord.

Zuko's arc has a lot to do with identity, with how he sees himself. At that point, the only thing he still had in life was his uncle - so he was acting like him, because there seemed to be no other role model, no other path. Seeing that weird, cheery, relaxed, always-seeing-the-good-side-of-things version of Zuko was honestly unnerving.

And Iroh thought that Zuko basically giving himself the Lake Laogai treatment was okay because he following in his footsteps, doing what helped IROH heal and change - he didn't realize it was never gonna be able to do the same for Zuko.

The very second Azula shows up, even when she's being hostile, Zuko drops the facade, because she's a reminder of both his old life and what he thought his future would be. And when she offers him "redemption" Iroh tried to advice Zuko against joining her by saying "The redemption she offers is not for you" (as in not for someone who is doing better and doesn't need to return to the Fire Nation) and "It's time for you to choose. It's time for you to choose good." How is it a choice if Iroh is explicitly saying which option Zuko cannot pick, essentially making the decision for him?

Iroh didn't just get the way to help Zuko wrong - he didn't realize his nephew didn't believe he needed help. They were not on the same page at all, and that contribuited to Zuko betraying him.

Though, thankfully, it ended up being for the best, as Zuko found his own way to redemption by himself.

Conclusion

This fandom as a whole tends to not understand Zuko at all and just eat up a bunch of fanon while pretending to be so intellectual, which I very much resent it for.

#anti zutara #pro maiko #pro mai #zuko is not an awkward turtleduck

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crispykodraws · 2 years

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Hey i just wanted to say that i am kinda obsessed with your Firelord Azula AU. I have just two questions that keep bouncing raound in my head Maybe you could help with them if you want and they aren't spoilers or left open for reader interpretation.

Seeing as Azula had a productive conversation with Zuko and he and Katara didn't just steal the crown from her in this AU, i assume she didn't have her mental breakdown (besides cutting her hair) and send everyone away. Is that correct?. So is she still in charge of the Dai Li? And how did she avoid it (maybe just a healthy amount of sleep)?

And what did they do instead of havjng the Last Agni Kai? Did Azula just quiz Zuko on Fire Nation bureaucracy, court life and diplomacy and after Zuko couldn't answer the questions correctly, he decided he needed to do some learning before he could run the Fire Nation?

Sorry for the long ask. You said you wanted to do some comic strips about this AU, i am definitely looking forward to that. And what new haircuts you decide to give Azula.

Hello, I too am obsessed with this AU. I think about it everyday. So thank you very much for asking about it!

I'm retroactively writing this paragraph because my answer got long. It might be considered spoilers for some, but a lot of them won't be addressed directly in the comics/fics because they're mostly just gags and short moments in the AU. So they're more like supplemental uhh lore than spoilers. To be safe though, I'll hide the rest of the answer below.

Aaah, I like those scenarios in your ask. My funny haha brain can imagine Zuko coming in and saying "I'd like to apply to be Fire Lord" and Azula, the merciless interviewer, says with a straight face, "A month ago, you didn't even know how Fire Lord Sozin, your own great-grandfather, died"

But lemme answer your questions before I get ahead of myself.

1) Mental Breakdown One thing to understand about this AU is it started with a joke idea that Zuko came to Azula's coronation to just attend it, not usurp her (much to Katara's and everyone else's confusion). I don't want to change that because it keeps things lighthearted despite the serious topics beneath the surface. I might like to keep plot points canon compliant, but there's some suspension of disbelief needed for this AU to work.

So, nah. Everything before the Last Agni Kai still happens. The only people who stuck around after the banishing spree are her Imperial Firebenders (they were weathering her ire in the barracks). Ninety percent of the servants are gone; Lo and Li retired to Ember Island; and the Dai Li left but didn't go back to the Earth Kingdom because they're considered traitors by then. Azula needed to feel the acute sense of being alone to accept Zuko into her life again.

There are few things that I've taken liberty with, like amplifying Azula's loneliness and desire to have someone to trust and call a family unconditionally. Aside from wanting control of her life, those are her motivations in this AU. So when Zuko refuses to fight and offers all those to her, she just takes it. And despite of her still present paranoia at the time, she believes it because Zuko wears his heart on his sleeve. He can lie but it's easy to spot.

However, her issues aren't resolved by then. Since this Azula is in a position of power and still insulated in her comfort zone and doesn't really get professional help, her healing comes really, really slow. Zuko's presence only helps so much.

2) Fire Lord Business I mentioned it earlier; Zuko arrives at her coronation and refused to fight her. He knows that even if he asked nicely and proved his worth, Azula wouldn't give him the crown. Zuko understands that she deserves it--she's filled the role of the heir for a long time now and this is the culmination of it. He also knows that he doesn't have to be the Fire Lord to make a difference in the world. He's already done so by helping Aang. So he basically let the coronation continue and let Azula have what she wants. It's also his peace offering, like a "look I can be nice to you too, please trust me" thing.

Zuko is already aware that he lacks the skill and experience to run a nation. He has some managerial and customer service skills from his time as a teashop employee, so he managed to be Azula's secretary/scribe for a short while. He does get promoted pretty quickly though.

When they first address his training, it's a few days after the coronation. Technically, they aren't both done with their training and lessons, but Azula is way ahead of Zuko. Everyone who wants to do public service and administration in the Fire Nation has to pass several civil service exams. Royalty aren't required to but they all take (and should pass, because it would be embarrassing otherwise) the exams as a formality. They both haven't taken any yet, so that's something they're equals on.

I do want to make comic strips about this, yeah. Some of them are going to be converted into fanfics probably. Because I don't want to draw them They work better in prose than in comic format. But I'm not sure if I'll do them all; there's like ~30 parts already lmao. So yeah, I don't really mind the long ask, I actually enjoyed sharing stuff about it. Might have overshared, to be honest. I hope you don't mind. I tried my best to be vague and avoid specific spoilers.

And let's see if Azula with another haircut will be added to the collection lol

Again, thanks very much for the ask!!

#asks #atla (archive)#!Coregency AU

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kirsdoesstuff · 1 year

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Diluc : Snowed In ❄️

Genshin Masterlist

-Preview-

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Now imagine that it’s a snow filled morning, you hear fire from behind the front door before a knock. When you open the door Diluc is there with the the slightest hint of a smile as he tells you that you’re now free to enjoy the beauty of the snow. You can’t help but watch him walk away to continue helping others.

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Winter had came to Monstadt rather soon and with it came the snow storms. The cold temperatures seemed to freeze what it could, it was rather relentless but there were some within the city who could take the cold like Captain Kaeya and Diluc owner of the Dawn Winery.

On this particular morning it seemed like the walls themselves couldn’t keep the cold out so you would get dressed up in warmer clothes but when you went downstairs the windows were completely snowed out and one couldn’t see through them by any means. You would rush up the stairs straight to a window and you weren’t the only one with snow covering your downstairs windows. It looked like many residents were snowed in like you had guessed for yourself. It was still lightly snowing outside but a storm must’ve came in through the night with a lot more that caused all of this.

A sigh escaped your lips as there were a couple of things you needed to do today, but it was clear it’d have to wait for another day when the knights figure out how to clear out the snow. Little did you know there was already a plan on the way, set in motion to be specific.

Even if you were to escape through a window, it would be hard to get back into your house safely with what you wanted to grab. When glancing out of the window you spotted knights walking around looking at all the snowed in houses with a paper and a pencil. Seemed like they were checking out what houses were hit the worst. You lived in a corner of the great city, so it might take a while for them to get to you.

So there you wait for a couple hours, trying to distract yourself from the cold and the boredom that is hitting you from not being able to do much. You glanced out the window once again and catch a glimpse of some flames from a house around the corner and you noticed they were powerful but you couldn’t see the one making them.

You’d rush downstairs to wait, but decided make some tea to offer to those who came to the door to take care of your snowed in problem. It was the least you could do for them to help them stay warm while helping others and reward them for it.

As you’re finishing up with the tea you hear a knock at the door, which wouldn’t be possible without getting rid of the snow first. You would rush to the door before composing yourself to then open the door. Your eyes met with a set of crimson ones, it was Diluc. He was known to help the city when he was needed, but you didn’t expect him to be the one to be at the door.

He looked down at you calmly and only showed the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

“You might be the last one, but you’re free from your prison at last.”

He was known to be a very powerful pyro user, so it had to be his flames you’ve seen before from around the corner. Diluc was rather sought after, he was a handsome and rich bachelor in the city. You could smell your tea ready to go, so you snapped out of your daze.

“Would you like some tea? I started making some a bit ago since I noticed some flames, to offer to whoever knight or not.”

You would offer some tea to the Lord, looking up a little nervous since it was rather hard to keep completely composed in front of Diluc. After all there is a knight with a pyro vision, but he was definitely not Amber.

“Thank you for the offer, but I must be going to take care some business at the winery. I hope you have a fine day despite the cold, so remember to take care of yourself.”

Diluc was rather kind though you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad about not rewarding your hero saving you from your comfy prison. It showed on your face, Diluc happened to notice.

“If I finish my work, I could most likely go for some tea to relax afterwards.”

Your eyes widened with a smile appearing on your lips, all as Diluc turned around to then leave you to prepare for later. Watching him walking away was still amazing with his ponytail moving with the chilly wind.

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Writer’s note:

Was set up for a part two when originally wrote, which was around the time I was in my last year of high school.

Not quite sure I’ll do a part two for either, but answer rn is probably not.

The preview was originally a prompt I wrote in a twitch stream for Augichii, I first watched on the 8th of October and I finished the full fic on the 22nd of October. It was all in google fun and we were just being our silly selves. I’ll still drop in to see what they’re doing but I don’t have as much time as I used to.

Hope you all enjoyed!

#genshin impact #genshin impact diluc #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #Genshin impact diluc x reader #hope you like <3 #kirsdoesstuff

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tiredassmage · 2 years

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✂️ - What kind of thing would have your OC cut someone out of their life? How likely are they to let someone back in?

Thanks for the ask! <3 list here (x)! Once again, some XIV ocs and some SWTOR beans bc... I have too many ocs and I care them very much. >.>

Astor, in all his forms, is almost too forgiving for his own good. It will depend on what was done, but he generally believes in second chances if he believes someone is making a genuine effort to do better than whatever happened in the past. Someone trying to weaponize him, especially against someone he cares about, would be a definitive trust-breaker and it's one of his larger fears as a Warrior of Light. He'd never want that position to be used against others.

Shay, on something of an opposite hand, is way less trusting to begin with. It wouldn't necessarily surprise him if someone turned out to have ulterior motives. That being said, for as much as he tries to pour himself into violent molds, he rebels at the idea of being someone else's pawn and, despite what he might say, he'd throw himself on the sword to protect the few people he cares greatly for. It's kind of a case of... only he is allowed to insult himself and imply he's a nefarious villain. Cutting out his past with Isghard was over a long history of feeling alone, unwanted, and something like a tool within his own family, and was only solidified by the deepest betrayal of his supposed "friend" being involved in the death of his fiance. He doesn't tend to let people back in. If you burned your bridge with him, Shay likely feels you set the fire and it's your own consequences to live with. It'll be a long road back if you decide to trudge along it.

Tyr's hard to pin down given his own history as an Intelligence operative. At this point, he's been a spy for about half of his life - something like going on twenty years, and its a mindset that hasn't ever left him. I'm not sure if there's a particular individual he's cut out of his life yet for personal reasons, but his entire disillusionment with the Empire is tied to the betrayal of the Dark Council after his pursuit of Darth Jadus. My most recent desire, actually, is tied to his fierce commitment to burning the Empire down from the foundations, if necessary, but also his... I'm not quite sure what to call it, recognition? Maybe? That it's... not the solution to ending the war between the Republic and the Empire, and it's not everyone else's chosen solution either. He actually... wouldn't recommend it. What he really means is that the only plan he has left is to go out swinging, when it comes to it. He's spent years waiting for the moment his acts as a double agent, reporting to the Republic would finally catch up with him - because it's the only way he's ever really known Ciphers to end. Never good, in short. Doesn't mean he necessarily hopes for it to end that way, but... he'd like to call himself a pragmatist.

Anyway, mildly off subject there, I think, but, TLDR, Tyr is nobody's weapon without his express consent. He's weary of being a pawn in the war yet again, even as he sees little other choice than to commit because he cannot deny his own skill set - nor his desire to fight back against the Empire that he gave his life to, and that has always, he's realized, been ready to chew him up and spit him back out on some backwater planet alley the moment he outgrew his use as an attack dog. He hasn't balked from trying to bridge gaps though before - he knows he can be a hard person to trust. It's the nature of his profession. So, he expresses some sort of bend there; a lot of cutting people out or letting them back in will depend on his read of intent.

Vaylress is hardly unfamiliar with the taste of betrayal. It is something of a cornerstone of Sith society and she certainly had a Master in Baras that was abundantly fluent in it and manipulation. She is and... isn't quite a Sith lord. She recognizes herself as a Lord of the Sith and expects the respect granted that position in the Empire, but isn't always as quick to ignite as many may expect her position. Between her apprenticeship to Baras, her experience as the Emperor's Wrath, and her relationship with Malavai Quinn, Vaylress has displayed conflicting responses to betrayal. In her love for Quinn, she almost never paused over their... incident - instead looking higher to sink her teeth into his perceived puppet master, Baras, whom she pledged to end for his betrayals and manipulations in ways that were anything but merciful and swift.

What it's taught her, I think, is... something like Tyr realized: she was a pawn in a system built upon the backs of pawns, broken and discarded as necessary to keep the machine running, though her realization of this is more slow and gradual as she realizes her crew is as a found family to her and she begins her own family raising a daughter with Quinn. She has a harder time disconnecting herself from loyalty to the Empire because she still recognizes it as home and herself as Sith, despite the flaws she begins to realize with both of these identities. She begins to realize her personal desires, so I think her reactions would be to threats and infringements upon these things. Her loyalty is to her family - found and grown - first, then to the Empire.

Whether or not she forgives someone for transgressions is going to largely depend on what said transgression was. Baras did not survive her wrath because she believed Quinn was wronged - and fiercely, at that. Such acts required equal retribution as payment. In short, her beliefs are her own and she will not take kindly to those trying to force a change upon her. Second chances are going to be earned with her.

#answered #ffxiv ocs #swtor ocs #ch: astor caulfield #ch: shay delacroix #ch: tyr #ch: vaylress

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sodadrabbles · 3 years

Note

Heya! Could i request a c! Philza x reader smut with a wing kink? You dont have to but it'd be cool if the plot was that Phill never let her touch his wings and she never knew why. Also she/her pronouns plz

Ahhh, wing kink. When all the people graduated from MHA during the s5 hiatus, all the Hawks stans came to MCYT and just fell in love with Philza. Dilfza supremacy. lord help me I'm formatting this while sitting next to my mother. the RISK.

Pairing: Philza x reader

Rating: SMUT! 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

Summary: Philza would never let anyone touch his wings, and never shared why. Today, reader finds that reason.

You and Phil had known each other for a while, long before he came to live in L’manburg. And for as long as you’d known him, he never allowed anyone to touch his wings. It was just so personal for him- He wouldn’t even accept help preening, despite how many times you had asked in the past. When you two start dating, it got a little better- He’d allow the occasional brush of his feathers when they got messy, or when he needed help preening a hard-to-reach spot. But even then, he was very avoidant when it came to letting you touch his wings.

Phil sat on the floor of your shared cabin, shirt and robe discarded somewhere in the room, his wings ruffled up and messy from flying through the nearby forest- Twigs were sticking out of spots and his feathers were all misplaced. He was struggling to brush through all the mess, but he was so clearly tired from everything he had done today- From hunting with Techno to helping you smith some gold armor for a nether trip tomorrow and going for a walk with Ghostbur, the blonde was reaching a point of exhaustion.

You had been finishing up a batch of fire resistance potions when you decided enough was enough- You were going to help him preen up his wings whether he liked it or not. With new confidence, you placed your three fresh fire res potions in a chest and walked over to your lover, plopping on the floor behind him with your legs crossed.

“(Y/N), what are you-” Phil’s shoulders physically tensed when he felt your hand brush through a part of his outer feathers, gently pulling out several small twigs. He wanted to melt under your touch, a wave of comfortable pleasure washing over him. He sucked in a deep breath and shook himself a bit, his face starting to feel a bit warm. “(Y/N), mate, what’re you doing?”

You hum and gently pet your hand through the thick plumage on the outer part of his wing, straightening out his feathers. His wing twitches a bit at your touch, and Phil makes a quiet whine under his breath. You just assume it was because you accidentally tugged on a feather.

“I’m helping you with your wings, darling.” You other hand travels to the part of his wing closest to the root, straightening the fuzzy down feathers and gently tugging at the loose ones you came across. Phil squirms a bit, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. His face was flushed a deep red and his pants were starting to feel uncomfortably tight.

He broke when you massaged down the skin between the roots of his wings, pushing gently into the tense muscles. It was a simple and loving gesture, but good god did it feel good. A shudder shot through the elytrian, his voice coming out in a high-pitched moan. His dick twitched as he gently rode through the orgasm, his hands now pushing against the somewhat painful hard-on.

You stared wide-eyed at your boyfriend, your cheeks burning from embarrassment. You held your hands tight against your chest, a bit afraid to touch Phil again. When it seemed he had come down from his high, you cleared your throat to get his attention.

"Ph-Phil- Uhm, did you just…?"

The elytrian gives you the smallest nod, his expression one of shame. He refused to look you in the eyes. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, you shift to sit in front of Phil, hands gently taking his. Phil glances at you for a moment, his breath heavy, a barely noticeable shake to his form.

Truth be told, the idea that you could so easily make him cum practically untouched ignited something warm in your core. It sparked a few jittery ideas in your mind that made you a bit too excited. You smile a bit, thinking about what you could do to him now that you had this information- But first you wanted to make sure Phil was okay with this.

"Phil…" You start, wetting your lips a bit. He looks at you with fear flashing through his irises. You laugh a bit and rub your thumbs along his knuckles. "Is that why you never let me touch your wings? Because it, uhm… Feels good?"

You laugh a bit when Phil's wings puff up. He nods again and shifts, his dick still leaving an imprint on his pants. The thought of helping him out with that has you drooling a bit.

"Phil I… I want to try something. With your wings. Is that okay?"

The way he looks at you when you ask, eyes wide and shining with excitement, yet his little nod is hesitant and shy. You slide forward onto his lap, and his hips bucked up to meet yours instinctively. You push your palms against his thighs, keeping him still.

"Sit still.." You mutter, moving your hands to wrap around his back, fingers resting just beneath the roots of his wings. The large appendages tense and the feathers puff out at the soft touch. Phil squirms under you, desperate for friction. The whines flowing from his mouth nearly make you give in.

You massage the skin between his wings, pressing softly into the muscle. You feel Phil's hands come to rest on your hips, squeezing gently with every soft press you push into the sensitive area.

He mumbles a curse under his breath when you brush your fingers into his feather, his face pushing into your shoulder. You can feel him twitching beneath you, his hard-on pushing into your inner thigh.

You press against him, grinding that sweet spot between your thighs against the thing poking you, and Phil moans into your shoulder. "Please, fuck, l-let me put it inside you, lemme fill you up."

You laugh at the way he's begging. Who knew just petting his wings a bit could break down the stubborn immortal so easily? You take a hand from his wings to free his member from his clothes, your thumb rubbing across the tip in a subtle tease.

Phil groans when you try to stand to remove your own clothes, his hands trying to hold you tightly against him. You give him a soft peck to his lips and a few pumps up his shaft before he lets you go. He watches you strip out of your fuzzy arctic clothes lovingly, his hands gripping the carpeted floor harshly.

When you sit back on Phil's lap, he's quick to lift you by your thighs and push you onto your back.You squeak at his sudden enthusiasm, cut off by the feeling of something pushing at your entrance. Phil holds you tightly, looking at you expectantly. You nod, unable to help the sweet moan that slips out when he pushes all the way into you.

You can feel yourself tighten around the elytrian when he bottoms out, your arms wrapping around his back. Phil starts at a slow pace, giving you time to adjust to his size. The entire time he's moaning praise into your ear, getting louder as his pace picks up.

You yelp when he rubs against that sweet spot inside you, your fingers tangling roughly into his wings. This causes Phil to make another high-pitched noise, his words slurring together and his movements becoming sloppy as he chases his orgasm.

"R-right there, (Y/N), fuck, keep touching right there." He whines, pushing roughly into you again. You smile and pet your hands through his wings, brushing through the feathers and tugging softly. You can feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he pounds into you, your own string of praises flowing from your mouth.

"Phil, I'm close-" You whine, moaning again when you feel his tip gently kiss your cervix. He mutters a quiet 'me too against your shoulder. your fingers curl tightly into his wings as he shoves you over the edge, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

Phil cums shortly after you, the feeling of you tightening around him and the way you tug at his wings finally breaking him. He fills you up with his load, gently riding through his climax by thrusting into you. Each jerk of his hips pulls a little noise from you. He adores all of them.

After a few moments to let you both come down, you take your hands from Phil's wings and gently pet through his hair. Your hands feel clammy and the rest of you feels sticky from sweat, but still you lovingly brush your fingers through his hair as he breathes against you. You press a few soft kisses to his forehead. You'll definitely have to involve his wings more often.

#no beta read we die like men #c!philza x reader #philza x reader smut #philza smut #request #anon #smut #wing kink #philza x reader #c!philza smut #c!philza x reader smut

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

Slytherin!Muggleborn X Draco Extensive Dating Headcanons

requested by the ever lovely @mimsyisgianna

A/n: Hi, this is super long and I’m in love with it.

oh this is going to be fun

As a muggle born you have absolutely no idea what’s going on

But you guess magic is cool? And your parents said that you don’t have to stay at Hogwarts if you’d rather a muggle school and forget all of the magic stuff

Which quells your anxiety a bit

Then there’s this asshole

Draco Lucius Malfoy: arrogant asshole extraordinaire, even as an eleven year old

You’re over his entire personality in about 0.2 seconds and you haven’t even talked to him yet

So maybe this magic thing wasn’t for you, because good god these purebloods are awful

Then you’re in the same House as Draco and you really just want to go home, but you decide you can try it for a semester and you shouldn’t let some prissy rich boy ruin your fun

Because, well magic is a lot of fun--and you’re pretty good at it

There are a few other half-bloods and muggle born in Slytherin, not many, but enough that you don’t feel alone

And maybe you become best friends with a muggle born hufflepuff who lives up the road from you back home

Draco, on the other hand, has made it his personal mission to make sure that you know you don’t belong at Hogwarts and you definitely don’t belong in Slytherin

he tells you as much. in so many words. in front of the entire great hall

You’re not hurt, you’re livid

“You know what you’re right!” You snap back, “I’d rather be anywhere but here with your vain racist arrogant ass!”

The entire Hall goes quiet and Snape breaks the two of you up

Now you both have detention together on Saturday

Draco yells something about his father hearing about this and you roll your eyes and go back to your dorm, dinner forgotten

Detention with Snape could be worse. All you’re doing it organizing potions ingredients onto the shelves

“That doesn’t go there,” You point to the misplaced vial of newt. “Yes it does,” Draco snaps, “Don’t tell me what to do little mudblood,”

“Don’t call me mudblood, asshole. Newt goes over there,” You point to a different shelf. “With the rest of the reptile related ingredients,”

You and Draco stare each other down, both convinced you’re right. You scoff and go back to your own ingredients letting him be wrong. It didn’t matter to you.

Draco would never admit that you were right. But you were.

You smirk at him when Snape points out the mistake

Since you’re Slytherin, it’s unavoidable that sometimes Draco is your partner in class

You mostly ignore him and try to focus on the professor, but sometimes he gets under your skin and you just want to deck him in his perfect face

“That’s not how...” “Good lord Draco how are you still alive...” Draco that’s not what the professor said...” “What in the world are you doing?” “I don’t think that’s how...” “He said 1354CE not 1435CE,”

“I don’t need a mudblood telling me what to do,” He always snaps.

“What about a Slytherin?” You fire back. He never has an answer to that.

It’s the end of first year and late one night after exams and you’re alone in the Common Room, staring at the murky lake water outside the stained glass, well almost alone.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear him the first time he speaks to you

“Oi, Y/n,” He calls. It was the first time he ever used your name. It caught your attention.

“I’m not really in the mood,” You hug your knees barely glancing at him. “I’m sure Hermione is somewhere in a library if you want a mudblood to taunt.”

“I’m here as a Slytherin actually,” He leans against the wall adjacent to the window seat. “How were exams?”

You shrug. “Fine. I guess.” Sighing you rest your head against the wall, closing your eyes. “Mom thinks I should go back home... go to a normal--muggle,” You mend, “school, and give up all this magic stuff,”

“What?” He demands. “Why would you do something so... so stupid?”

This time you do look at him, confused. Sure, he had called you a lot of things and mocked you more times than you could count but they had always been about your blood status, never about you inkling to leave this magical world.

“It’s not stupid!” You argue back. “How--all year you’ve given me hell for not belonging and now that I might actually want to go, you’re telling me no!?”

You don’t let him say a word, instead you rush down the hall and to your room, slamming the door shut and locking the door, confusing your roommate, but she sees the tears in your eyes and decides not to question it.

Draco sort of hates himself for making you cry, but he can’t quite figure out why. He can’t figure out why the thought of you leaving for good bothered him so much. His friends couldn’t figure out why he cared so much. And neither could he.

You’re not at the End Of Year feast, nor on the train back to King’s Cross, and Draco gets really worried that you have left for good.

The more he thinks about it over the summer, the more he thinks that you weren’t so bad for a mudblood. And maybe sometimes you were actually brilliant. And maybe you’re the only one who can see right through him and yet you still help him when you can even though he’s stubborn about it. And maybe you did belong in the Wizarding world with him.

But he had to go and screw all of that up.

He does a double take when he sees you September 1st with a few other Slytherins on the Hogwarts Express.

“You came back,” He blurts out. “You can’t get rid of me that easy Malfoy,” You grin at him.

You still snap at each other but now it’s more of an inside joke rather than malicious. It’s a game that you both like playing.

“Happy now Y/l/n,” Draco grumbles after you correct him in front of the entire class. “Ever so more, now that you’re put off Malfoy,” You laugh.

Boy does Draco freak out when he hears that mudb-muggle borns are the target when the chamber of secrets is opened

Now he’s constantly worried about you and still doesn’t know why. He chalks it up to “you’re a slytherin and slytherins take care of their own,”

Not that he cares about any other slytherin muggle born, just you

Not that he admits that to himself either

So maybe he stalks you a bit in second year. You notice but shrug it off. Draco’s weird, that wasn’t new info to you.

This year you go to Quidditch games, one because Draco mentioned he was the new Seeker, and two... well, why not?

You go to one, then swear them off. Good lord they’re dangerous and give you unnecessary anxiety. Especially the amount of times people get hurt. Magic or not, you didn’t want to watch that.

After the first match that Draco sees you there, he always looks for you in the crowd again, but never sees you. It throws off his focus more than he cared to admit

he liked showing off to you okay?

He finds you in the common room after one victory, enjoying the party with your friends. You wave at him and after a while congratulate him on catching the snitch. It’s blushing and awkward but then Pansy comes and draws Draco’s attention and you can barely get out goodbye

The fact that you’re a muggleborn hardly bothers him anymore. You’re just... you.

After one particularly aggravating quidditch match you find him afterwards, sulking in the library.

“Draco?” You ask, confusion in your voice.

“Go away,” He grumbles, more or less hiding behind his book.

“I heard about what happened today...”

“And you’ve come to mock me, brilliant,”

“No,” you offer a smile. “Though the thought is appealing... I was wondering if you were okay,”

“I’m fine,” He snaps, taken aback that you came to check on him. No one did that. Ever.

The summer still gives him anxiety because there’s always the possibility that you won’t come back to Hogwarts the next year. And Draco can’t have that

But his fears are put to rest when your in his train compartment that next year (you have the same friends after all--and Slytherins stick together)

You notice that Draco’s wearing his hair a bit different this year and maybe he’s a bit taller...

and you have no idea what feeling is in your chest because of it. was it nervousness? No... was different... but what was it?

You shrug mentally and the game is on again with Draco.

“I was going to insult you but it seems like you’re doing just fine on your own,” You grin and Draco is livid. And it makes you laugh. He’s just so cute when he’s mad.

“I can see that you’re failing at attempting to mock me Y/l/n,” Draco smirks. “Oh you’re completely right,” You smile innocently, and Draco’s eyes widen because did you just say he was right?. “I’m not attempting, I’m succeeding at mocking you.” You giggle and make a face at him before heading down the hall with your friends.

and maybe Draco’s heart skips a beat

Animosity between the Gryffindors and Slytherin is real and even though you’re a muggle born the self righteous golden children don’t seem to care

Hi Dracos protective of you

“You don’t have to defend me. I’m just fine on my own,” you huff one day after class. “Slytherin take care of their own,” Draco shrugs and walks off.

Did Draco just call you a Slytherin genuinely? Did he just call you one of his own?? What the f—

Okay but Buckbeak terrifies you?? Like sure horses you could do but this??

Draco laughs at your apprehension before he realizes what you really are terrified and ducking behind him and the other Slytherin.

Hagrid picks you to come forward and greet Buckbeak and you can’t seem to get out the words “no thank you”

Draco, being over dramatic and now protective goes forward instead (you know the scene) and despite your fear of Buckbeak you’re scolding Draco that he’s going to get hurt if he doesn’t do it properly

Then he does get hurt

“It’s killed me!” He cries and you have to laugh, crouching down beside him.

“You’re fine drama queen,” you help him up and take him to Pomfrey. “Thanks,” you whisper as his arm is getting wrapped.

“Sure, I save you from a bloody chicken and all I get is a thanks?” He grumbles.

You rest your hand on his and your eyes meet.

“Thank you,” you say softly and boy does Draco melt on the spot

He still scoffs and plays it off. “Whatever,”

The same thing happens again with the boggarts but this time the roles are switched. Draco is terrified to go up but you’re pretty brave and reckless for a Slytherin

But holy heck does this backfire

Because your Boggart is Draco...

“You don’t belong here and you never will! You filthy little mudblood! Just go home and don’t come back! No one wants you here!”

You can’t manage the spell—because honestly you didn’t expect it to be that—and Lupin has to rescue you and you rush out of the room, tears in your eyes and everyone is just staring at Draco.

As you can imagine, things get pretty bad. Draco avoids and ignores you to the best of his ability because he had no idea how scared you were of him... sure maybe a little bit... but to be your greatest fear? It didn’t sit well with him.

And you figure out pretty quick why that was your boggart but you don’t know if you can admit it to anyone.

Until Lupin pulls you aside after class one day to ask if you’re okay and if Malfoy is giving you any trouble about being a muggleborn.

“I can give him detention,” Lupin offers. “Maybe it’ll straighten him out.”

“Stars, no!” You gasp. “Professor, please, Draco’s never...” You can’t exactly say he’s never said that, because he did, in first year. “It’s not for the reason you think, but Draco really... it’s not...” You don’t know how to explain without telling Lupin the entire thing.

“Alright,” Lupin appeases. “But if you have any trouble with anyone, you come to me you understand?”

You nod and leave, accidentally running into Draco in the hall. He barely looks at you before rushing off again.

“Draco, wait!” You call. “Please,”

Apprehensively he pauses and turns to face you. He waits for there to be fear in your eyes, but all he can see is desperation and sadness.

“I thought you were afraid of me,” He meant it as a snarky reply, but it comes out broken.

“No,” You shake your head. Biting your lip you decide to tell him why he’s your boggart. “You’re... you’re the only one I... I trust enough to believe... if you told me I didn’t belong... It only scares me if it comes from you,”

“What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with that!?” He demands.

You shrug, sighing thinking about the same. “I don’t know... I’m sorry Draco,” You turn and walk down the hall.

It’s gone from bad to worse because not the awkward tension between you two is tangible and about every Slytherin is over it. So are most of the other students but they don’t have to live with you two.

Draco barely sleeps at night. He’s just thinking about how he actually said that to you in first year and how you still held onto his words. He never meant for them to hurt you that badly. At least now he didn’t mean it.

Then there was the matter of what you had explained to him. That he was the only one who could hurt you with those words. Because you trust him? Why the hell would you trust him? Why was it him of all people?

Maybe his thoughts shifted to the panic in your eyes the day with Buckbeak, or the smile when you helped him off the ground, or the gentle kindness in your eyes when you thanked him in the infirmary.

Or maybe it was the determination in your eyes when you volunteered yourself to face the boggart so he didn’t have to.

Or maybe it was every taunt and tease that had you both smiling and laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Every name calling, every insult.

Maybe it was the day he saw you at King’s Cross, telling him that he couldn’t get rid of you that easily and grinning at him like it was some sort of inside joke.

Or maybe it was the soft apology you gave him for the mess you were in.

You didn’t really talk for the rest of the year, but the tension seemed to ease after Draco’s epiphany that night. You smile at him and he waves to you in the halls... it’s nice. It’s friends.

Draco still thinks that this is finally the year that you don’t come back to Hogwarts and it really does crush him over the summer not being able to ask you or contact you at all. The disconnect between wizard and muggle was very irritating because he just wanted to talk to you.

His fears are again quelled when you’re on the Hogwarts Express. He sits with you this year.

Fourth year means the Durmstrang students are being hosted by the Slytherins and more than one has their eye on you and you just feel creeped out

Hi, Draco is jealous

Now he was your partner in every class, and constantly beside you in the halls, glaring down whichever guy dares to come near you.

Not that you notice. Again, Draco was weird. It wasn’t news to you. Besides he’s cute when he’s grumpy

Until one day you’re irritable and Draco just happens to be the person closest to you when you’re pushed over the limit.

“I don’t need you to protect me okay! I can handle guys just fine on my own thank you! God what is with you Draco!?” You scream at him during study hall and storm off. Against his better judgement, he gets up and follows you.

He finds you in the library leaning against a bookshelf in the back, your eyes closed.

“Go away Malfoy,” You sigh.

“How did you know it was me?”

“Because I know you,” You look over at him. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,”

“I’m sorry if I made you feel...” He looks down. “I... You’re...” He turns a slight shade of pink and trails off.

“It’s alright,” You offer a smile. “It’s actually kinda sweet,”

Now you’re both blushing.

You go to the first task together with the rest of the slytherins and Draco can barely watch the task because he’s watching your face light up at the sight of dragons, because your little muggle self has never seen a dragon before and it’s amusing and cute

Then Draco asks you to the Yule Ball for before any of the imbeciles from Durmstrang can in front of the entire Great Hall.

“Malfoy’s got himself a muggleborn girlfriend!” It’s some Gryffindor mocking you

You turn bright red and run off, finding yourself in the Forbidden Forest hiding behind a tree. You’re crying because you’re embarrassed and you’re mad that you’ve even crying, which makes you cry more.

You hear his voice calling your name and you pray to whatever god existed that Draco wouldn’t find you or see you cry.

He does find you.

“Go away Draco,” You beg, hiding your face in your hands.

“Now where have I heard that before?” He teases softly. A silence falls again.

“You never answered me,” His voice is soft and gentle. “Do you want to go to the Ball with me?”

You dare to look at him, confused as hell. He sitting beside you, staring at the grass and tree roots beneath you.

“Do you really mean that? Don’t give me that look. I know you don’t exactly hate my existence, and things are different... but asking me to the ball? I...” Shaking your head you rub your face.

“I can’t blame you for questioning my motives, though a part of me thought... maybe hoped you wouldn’t, but I really do mean it. I know I was an ass to you in the beginning, and sometimes I still am, and I’m sorry for that. I really am trying.” He nervous and rambling and you know it. “But I really do want to take you to the ball, because you’re kind, and sweet, and a brilliant slytherin and an amazing witch-”

He’s cut off because you pulled his tie and pressed your lips to his.

of course it’s awkward and weird because you’re kissing him and... he’s kissing you back?

You pull away, thoroughly confused, and you start to apologize, but he’s not having that, so with a bit more elegance, he pulls you in for another kiss.

This one is softer and slower and it gives you both time to figure out what kissing is now that it’s a thing you’re actually doing.

“Will you please go to the Ball with me?” He asks again, when the perfect kiss is ended. You nod and smiling giving him a “yes,”

“And maybe go out with me?”

You grin. “Whatever you want Malfoy,”

maybe he kisses you again

You to eventually head back inside, hand in hand and all of the Slytherins sigh in relief because finally

You’re a nervous wreck because all you can hear is “Malfoy’s got himself a muggleborn girlfriend,” on repeat and you can’t help but feel wrong

“You’re thinking about it again,” Draco raises an eyebrow at you.

“And you’re not?” You challenge. “It feels... wrong. How could a pureblood, a Malfoy no less, choose a muggleborn, a mudblood,”

“Don’t you ever,” Draco gets dangerous with cold fury. “Don’t you ever call yourself that. You hear me?” He’s towering over you, his grey eyes trained on yours. “You are a Slytherin,” He cups your face, his demeanor softening, “You are a brilliant witch. Pureblood or not, you’re mine. You hear me?”

You nod, and he wraps you into a hug, sighing. “I’m so sorry,” He whispers.

Your dress for the Ball is a bit more muggle than wizard, and you’re nervous about what the others in your house will say, but all of the worry goes away when Draco stares at you, turning pink and stumbling over his words

Not that you’re faring much better, because good lord is he gorgeous

It’s awkward and weird to be officially dating, but soon you fall back into your familiar game but now it’s harmless banter and lowkey flirting

Because Draco is protective and jealous of the Durmstrang blokes gaping at you maybe he’s okay with holding you closer than strictly necessary, or kissing you in a way that not completely polite in the company of others.

You roll your eyes at his antics, but allow it because you don’t like the way a few girls are staring at Draco.

Boy is Draco a goner when you get jealous and just as protective. He’s a stammering blushing mess if he can even make a word out at all

At the moment, Draco’s parents don’t know about you--partly for your safety partly because neither you nor Draco are ready for that battle

Draco and you spend free nights acclimating each other with wizard or muggle culture. Some nights are fun and carefree, some not so much...

Draco gives you a very strict rundown of the looming war and the threat of the Dark Lord and how very serious it is and how easily you can (and will) be killed for simply existing under Voldemort’s regime

Maybe once Draco agreed with his father that muggles shouldn’t exist and muggle born wizards were preposterous, but now? How could he look at you, your family, who welcomed him with open arms, and say that? How could anyone believe that?

He says “I love you” first. It’s an accident but you’re studying kne night and your eyes light up—like they always do when you learn something magic related—and it just slips out.

You gawk at him for a bit. Draco turns bright red and stares down at the books in front of you trying to play it off.

“I... I love you too,” you finally get out.

His eyes flash back to yours and your homework is forgotten and you’re in your own little bubble of a world in the epiphany that you love each other

“Of course I love you Draco,” there are tears in your eyes as he pulls you into his arms and now you’re both crying and kissing and mumbling “I love you”s

This summer, now that Voldemort is back, Draco goes about insane thinking about you, sending you owls almost daily to make sure that you were alright as well as hiding you from his parents

Except his mother finds out. Well, more like she knows her son and can see that he’s changed and casually asks “who is she?”

It’s a quiet conversation held behind closed doors and silencing charms. Draco explains who you are to him, and what you mean to him and now Narcissa is on your side, to be your protector from his father and the Dark Lord

I can throw Snape in there too right? Cuz he’s your head house as well as being close to the Malfoy’s and sees how much you mean to Draco. Yeah, sure, why not?

It’s harder for you as a Slytherin because no one outside of your house sees what kind of danger you’re truly in because they don’t want to take the time.

But you’re still fericely protective of the younger Slytherins who still get berated despite being eleven with no choice of a house

You and Draco as prefects?? Hello?? The CUTEST thing because you’re now the honorary parents of Slytherin younger years. And Draco seeing you take care of the first years does something weird and paternal to him. It’s the same for you.

Which means you might go toe to toe with Harry a few times because once after a quitting match when you’re waiting for Draco he says “how can you be with someone like him? You’re a muggle born. He’s a Malfoy, you don’t exactly belong,”

Cue you hexing Harry for saying that. Then Draco coming between you two. You explaining what Harry said and then Draco turns on Harry and then it becomes a muggle brawl and you have to drag Draco away from it before you get in trouble. By the end Harry has clearly got the message that yes you do belong, and no it’s never up for debate again

You both have detention again. But that’s fine, it’s just uninterrupted time you can spend with Draco and get some homework done

You are 100% over Umbridge and her rules. Especially when she gets between you and Draco with her eight inch rule but then again you’re slytherin and she seems to favor your house so she’s not as strict, especially with Draco as her golden boy

You don’t join the Inquisitional Squad, but you still look after your own house as a unofficial prefect as Draco works as part of the squad.

With the news of Draco’s father in jail, you comfort him that night, not leaving his side. He feels so conflicted because on the one hand it’s his father but on the other hand you’re safer with him locked away

Draco loathes that you leave him in the summer to go back home but he agrees it’s safer for you to be back in the muggle world. Until Voldemort starts to attack your muggle world and dementors hover over your town.

Draco writes to you, begging you to come and stay with him where it’s safer and you can use magic to defend yourself but you refuse because you won’t abandon your family

Draco takes the Dark Mark to keep you safe and to keep his facade up.

But he doesn’t tell you. Not for a long while. You know something is up because Draco looks like the embodiment of death but he won’t tell you why.

“Draco,” you confront him one night as you sit and watch the stars. “Please?” You don’t even have to ask the explicit question. There are tears in your eyes as you plead with him silently.

“I can’t,” he whispers hugging his knees, not daring to meet your eyes.

“Draco it’s me,” you lay a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just me. Whatever it is... I’ll always love you,”

“How can you... how can you love me when I became the one thing who’s truly meant to hate you?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you cup his face softly, his eyes meeting yours. “Do you love me?” Then mend. “Forget what you are... or what I am... or what should be. Look me in the eyes and tell me you love me,”

“I... I love you,” he gasps out, pulling you close. “Merlin of course I love you,” he’s sobbing into your arms and you hold him, letting him cry in peace and comfort.

You two sit in the quiet for a while, both lost in aimless thought.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says pulling away from you. “I’m so sorry,” he tugs up his shirt sleeve and you see the Dark Mark etched into his skin

“Draco,” your eyebrows furrow, your hand running over the mark. “Are you okay?”

“Why is that your first thought?” He laughs hopelessly, cupping your face delicately. “You never cease to amaze me,”

“Now what?” You ask softly after some time in silence. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t think anyone knows,” he admits. “It all became so complicated,”

You chuckle. “Oh the days when our biggest problem was my blood status,” you rest your head on his shoulder, tucked into his arms.

“I mean that’s still a relevant problem,” Draco points out, pulling you in tighter. “I don’t want to lose you. Not because of some stupid notion that pure bloods are better than muggle born,”

You smile at that and close your eyes, relaxing in his arms. “Did it hurt?” You asked after a while. “Like you wouldn’t believe,” there’s still pain in his voice.

You’ve become more protective of Draco now and he of you. It might go back to the core that Slytherins look out for their own, or maybe it was because your to loved another. All of the Slytherins seem to stick together lately.

In an attempt to protect Draco, Harry’s sectumsempra hits you instead

And stars above Draco would have killed Harry if he wasn’t so focused on keeping you alive until Snape arrived

Draco has the dark mark and you had dark magic scars all over your skin. That was a hard one to explain to your parents

If anything your scars make you more confident and self assured because they show the true nature of the precious “chosen one” and you’re not keen on letting Harry forget it from tank tops to shorts and skirts, you boldly show off your scars

Of course Draco takes his sweet and gentle time praising and adoring all of your scars. It leaves the ghost of his lips on your skin for days on end until he does it again

In all honesty you and Draco are a force to be reckoned with, both scarred by a war that hasn’t truly begun.

You’re beside Draco when he’s face to face with a dying Dumbledore. You’re gripping his other hand, a snarled look on your face because you saw his manipulative nature for what it was

Though you couldn’t bare to think of killing another, you didn’t stop Snape from doing the final action

You and Draco fled with the rest of the Death Eaters, both running into the Forbidden Forest before apparating away.

You share a desperate kiss at the Manor behind his locked bedroom door before you have to apparate back home, safe from Voldemort and his other Death Eaters

Now that both you and Draco can apparate legally, you have rendezvous points that you meet during the summer for a few hours a week. Sometimes it’s sunny afternoons in the countryside, sometimes it’s desperate nights in lavish hotels, sometimes it’s lazy mornings in comfortable beds

Seventh Year is hellish. On the one hand it’s great for the Slytherins, on the other hand it’s terrible for muggle borns. You escape a lot of the torture because of being with Draco but you can barely stomach watching it happen to others... especially first years.

“This is wrong Dray,” you whisper one night. “I... I can’t keep pretending like it’s okay. They’re just kids,” there are tears in your eyes.

It’s the first night that the room of requirement opens its doors to you letting you in on the renegade camp. Almost everyone is baffled to see you there.

“So...” Neville starts. “Yeah,” you nod looking around at all of the battered and bruised faces. Your heart breaks a little more.

You use whatever magic and muggle skills you have to help the younger years get patched up and feel safe again, soon becoming a co-leader along side Neville and Ginny.

The fact that you’re a Slytherin gets left at the door.

In fact after a while the room itself gets rid of all of the house banners and just becomes a communal space

You tell Draco where you are and what’s going on but despite how hard he tries, he can’t get into the room

Until one night, the night after Luna is kidnapped and he’s made to torture her, does he become desperate enough that the room opens for him and offers him a safe haven from the war as well

Boy was everyone shocked to see Draco stumble through the doors on the verge of tears.

Wordlessly you stand and go to him, wrapping him into a hug and pulling him to your cot, again letting him break down in peace and comfort

Soon more and more Slytherins start to trickle into the renegade room.

You move your parents far away from England and London while the war is happening with help from Narcissa and Draco

The day comes and the battle of Hogwarts arrives and the Slytherins stand with Hogwarts, knowing that family doesn’t start or end with blood.

You and Draco lead the Slytherins into battle against the Death Eaters with a furious vengeance

No one budged when Voldemort offered to reconcile after Harry was pronounced dead. You and Draco shared one last loving look and prepared to face death together

But then Voldemort is gone

You almost collapse in relief into Draco’s arms and he sinks to the floor unsure of the world himself.

Many lives are lost and many are wounded. You both go around healing and helping where you can, never far from the other

You break down crying when you see Lupin dead before you and Draco holds you tightly shedding a few tears of his own

You and Draco are both acquitted in the trials because most of Hogwarts comes to your defense in testamonies.

Your story makes headlines a few years later....

“Pureblood Ex-Death Eater Malfoy Proposes to Rebel Muggleborn Sweetheart”

It’s not happily ever after just yet, but maybe it’s a step in the right direction

masterlist

ko-fi

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saeyoungchoismaid · 3 years

Note

in all honesty, i don't know how this would work, but it intrigued me.

24 + diavolo, maybe? if you can find inspiration for it :)

You did it perfectly anon!! FINALLY an ask for hubby Diavolo <3 Lmao this was just supposed to be a little drabble like the rest of them but nO I just hAd to go overboard. So now I have to add all this mess:

Pairing: Lord Diavolo x gn!reader Genre: angst, fluff, fake dating au Warnings: uh his dad hates you??? Summary: With the Demon King wanting Diavolo to find someone to rule with him, it’s only natural that he lies and says he’s already found someone(you), right? Word Count: 2k words (so much for this being a drabble lmao)

24. kisses for a cover (I’m assuming this means like a cover up like a lie)

Being the prince of The Devildom comes with many responsibilities, including but not limited to: running The Devildom since his father has no interest in The Devildom’s affairs, hosting events and gatherings to strengthen his bonds with other lords and the other rulers of the three worlds, keeping an eye on the student council (which is mostly composed of meddlesome brothers that he cares for deeply), and the list goes on.

Oh, can’t forget the fact that he is required to marry and have someone to rule by his side. Yeah, that’s apparently an important one. He’s always realized his responsibility and has accepted all parts of his life as fact, but when you come down from the human world to participate in his program, his solid plans suddenly all come to a screeching halt.

It becomes clear to him that he can’t go and marry someone just for the sake of The Devildom. I mean, he’s been ruling The Devildom for most of his life just fine without someone else! He decided he wasn’t going to do it. He doesn’t want to marry anyone except for you and when he does, it’ll be because you two are ready for marriage, not because it’s his duty as prince.

His father didn’t like that though.

Despite Diavolo being the ruler of The Devildom, he is not yet the Demon King. That title still belongs to his father, who always has the final say. And in this case, his final say is that Diavolo cannot rule the kingdom on his own any longer.

Diavolo sees red when he hears this news.

It isn’t until his father decides to host a party to introduce him to possible suitors that Diavolo lies and says he’s already found someone to rule by his side. When asked who, Diavolo says your name, and, of course, his father wants to meet you right away.

The only thing is, Diavolo hasn’t told you of his true feelings, meaning you are oblivious to how he truly feels about you. His father cannot know of this though. So, with Diavolo on his knees before you, he begs you to pretend to be his lover. He promises that he’ll do whatever you ask of him, as long as you do him this favor.

Unbeknownst to Diavolo though, you’re just as crazy about him as he is about you. So of course you agree to his plan.

Asmo helps you with your appearance, Satan teaches you some big words to use in front of the Demon King to impress him, Lucifer teaches you the proper mannerism to use in front of him, Mammon lets you wear his most expensive jewelry, Beel shows you the correct silverware to use during the dinner and in what order to eat it in, plus what to avoid, Levi gives you history facts about The Devildom and what the Demon King has done for it before Diavolo took over, and Belphie reminds you to flatter the Demon King as much as possible to please him. Barbatos, of course, goes over everything with you again to make sure your success is definite.

When you’re finally ready, Diavolo picks you up at six o’clock sharp to bring you back to his father’s mansion for dinner. He smiles when he sees you, though his smile shrinks a bit when he notices how stiff and nervous you are.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers to you when you reach him, gently taking a hold of your hand to kiss the back of it. His smile returns to its original state when you smile at him, your cheeks gaining heat to them at the compliment.

“Thank you. You look quite dapper yourself,” you reply softly, admiring him in his fancy suit. His smile turns into a grin, happy to hear that you like his suit. His tie is your favorite color and everything.

“Well, let’s get going,” he says as he leads you to the car and helps you get in. He talks to you about every and anything on the way there, trying to distract you and calm you down before you arrive. It works up until the car pulls up in front of his father’s mansion, your throat suddenly going dry. “You’ll do great,” he promises.

He helps you out just like how he had helped you in before assisting you up the grand steps. When you reach the door, he gives a single powerful knock before waiting. You two aren’t waiting long before the door is flying open and a small woman is standing there. “Good evening. Please come in,” she greets meekly, pulling the grand door open for you two to walk inside.

You two are then led to the dining room, where your chairs are pulled out for you two to sit. Within the next minute, the Demon King is walking in. “Welcome, welcome! I’m glad you two made it here okay!” he greets, surprising you with how chipper he seems. He takes a seat at the head of the grand table, your hands starting to shake a bit in his presence despite how friendly he seems. During Levi’s history lesson, he told you about all the scary things he’s done in his time.

As soon as he’s taken his seat, servants are flocking in with trays of drinks and appetizers. You all wait until they’re gone before beginning to eat. You stare down at your plate, trying to remember everything Beel and Lucifer taught you. Why are there three spoons and three forks? Surely you don’t need that many. You glance at Diavolo and pick up the same fork as him, taking a deep breath to help relax your nerves.

You glance at the Demon King to find that he looks satisfied with your silverware choice. Was this a test? You don’t have time to ponder it before he’s firing into questions about you. The first one being: “So, you’re...human?” How are you supposed to answer that? Of course you are, and he obviously knows this.

“Um, yes,” you stutter out, feeling your cheeks flush when you realize your mistake. “Yes, your highness!” He lets out a small hum, seeming to make a mental note of your mistake. From there, things seem to only get worse. It’s like you suddenly forgot how to speak like a normal person and things you’d never say are flying out of your mouth. You’re just trying to impress him and make him approve of you but you’re doing the exact opposite.

It isn’t until the end of dinner that he announces this.

“You know, son, I’m not sure this one is the best idea,” he starts, frowning at you as he gives you a once over. Before he can even continue though, Diavolo is standing up and glaring down at his father with a look of pure anger. You’ve never seen him so worked up before.

“I don’t care what you think about them! You told me to find someone to rule with and that’s what I’ve done. I love them and they will be by my side as I rule over The Devildom!” he announces, making your jaw drop as you stare up at him. You close your mouth and clench your jaw though when you remember what you’re here for. He doesn’t actually love you. He’s saying all of this to convince his father that he’s found someone who will rule with him.

You apparently tuned out of the conversation at the wrong time because the next thing you know, you’re being tugged up by Diavolo and his lips are finding yours. Your eyes go wide in shock despite your brain trying to yell at your body not to show any signs of surprise. It’s easier said than done though.

All too soon for your liking, Diavolo is pulling away from your lips. Something flashes in his eyes—hope or love maybe? Eh, who are you kidding—before he’s turning to look at his father again. “You see? I don’t want anyone else; I want them! They’re mine and I’m theirs!” he shouts at his father. Before he can reply to his son, Diavolo is dragging you out of the room and to the front of the house where the car is awaiting you both.

Diavolo is silent for a long time while you two drive back home, a heavy frown on his face and his knuckles white with how tight he’s clenching his fists. “I’m sorry for all of that,” he apologizes softly, bringing your eyes away from his hands to his face. He’s not looking at you though, simply staring out his window at the scenery passing him by.

“It’s okay. I understand. Barbatos informed me of your relationship with your father,” you say softly. They get along and all, but they more often than not end up in some sort of disagreement. It’s normally about how things are being done in The Devildom though.

He sighs and reaches over to take your hand in his, staring down at the small hand in his big one. “I hope you’ll still consider my proposal,” he says softly, making your brows furrow.

“What proposal?” you ask. His eyes finally meet yours and your heart skips a beat at how expressive his eyes are.

“To rule The Devildom with me, of course,” he replies like it’s obvious. Your brows shoot up to your hairline at this news though.

“What? I thought that was just something you were telling your father, so he wouldn’t force you to marry some rando,” you rush out, trying to wrap your mind around his words. There’s no way he actually wants you to rule The Devildom with him. You wouldn’t know the first thing about ruling over thousands of other people—er, demons.

His brows knit together at your response, his other hand moving to grab your free one. “(Y/n), I’m sorry. I...I should’ve said something sooner,” he whispers, staring down at your hands now. This only confuses you more though.

“Tell me what sooner?”

He’s silent for a long moment, trying to gather the right words he wants to say. “I love you. What I said back there, it’s true. I want you to be by my side and help me to run The Devildom. You have so many good ideas and suggestions, I just know you’ll make a wonderful leader.”

Now you’re just gaping at him like a fish.

“What? No. No, I...I can’t,” you mumble, pulling your hands out of his. He just pulls them right back to him though.

“You can’t? Can’t what? Be with me?” he asks softly, his voice sounding close to breaking, just like his heart.

“No! No, I...I want to be with you. I love you too. I just...I don’t know the first thing when it comes to ruling over demons, most of which want to eat me,” you reply, trying to sound playful and joking but failing, your words being too true and hitting too close to home.

That didn’t stop Diavolo from smashing his lips to yours for a passionate kiss though. “That doesn’t matter. None of it does as long as I get to be with you. I’ll even step down from being King for you,” he mumbles against your lips after you two pull back for air.

“No, don’t do that. These people need you just as much as I do. I’ll learn how to rule with time. Just stay by my side, okay?” you whisper back, pulling away from his face enough to look up into his eyes.

He smiles brighter than The Devildom’s moon as he nods his head rapidly. “I swear I will. I’ll help you every step of the way.” He seals his promise with another kiss...and then another...and then just one more to be sure.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLISTS

More with Lord Diavolo

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Tag List: @katelynwithpaint, @buzzybeebee, @stressylexy, @jungialo, @fanfictwarrior, @ohbbobeyme, @zeldan7, & @otome-otakuwu ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Pretty Please

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader hears something surprising from her next door neighbor, and it throws her off. Category: Smut 18+ (masturbation, thigh riding, penetrative sex, oral sex-male and female receiving, semi-rough sex, dom!Spencer) Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Nothing except the smut listed above and strong language. As always, if there’s anything I missed, let me know what I should include in the warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!

PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE

***

There's no way she heard that right.

In fact, she was pretty sure she'd made it up. She was tired, delirious, and she'd only imagined hearing what she heard.

Right?

Just to be sure, Y/N sat up in bed, put her ear against the wall just above the headboard, and listened, concentrating as hard as she could to confirm or deny.

And sure enough, the next thing she heard was, "Fuck, yes!"

It was muffled, definitely not as loud as it could have been, but if things continued the way she thought they would, it was going to get louder. Unless, of course, her neighbor was mindful, knowing that someone could probably hear what was going on. Though, for some reason Y/N doubted that.

Just to be extra sure what was happening, she stayed glued to the wall, listening carefully.

There was some muffled movement, but it could have been just about anything. Nonetheless, her heart was beating so fast, and it beat even faster when she heard what came next.

A loud female moan, unmistakable and utterly pornographic, made Y/N close her eyes immediately, her heart practically jumping out of her chest. Her first thought was Okay, he's watching porn. Everyone does that. Not without headphones, but it's completely normal and I should stop eavesdropping and go about my own life because this is an invasion of privacy.

Her second thought was ...Oh.

Because she was dead wrong.

The next thing that sounded through the walls was, "Yes, Spencer, just like that!"

Y/N's eyes shot open and she almost had a heart attack.

Her next thought was Good for him...

She and her neighbor hadn't really gotten to know each other that well. All she knew was that he had a job that kept him away from home quite a bit, either from travel or just late nights. He was shy and rarely talked to her when they met in the halls or in the parking garage, or even in the laundry room. Which is why it was so surprising to Y/N that he was having sex—and decent sex at that, from what she could hear—right next door.

Not that it would have been impossible for him to get it, of course. He was hot as hell, and it shouldn't have surprised Y/N as much as it did that she was hearing what she was hearing. It had just never happened before.

She was about to let it be, glad that her neighbor seemed to be having some fun, and it truly wasn't any of her business what he decided to do in his spare time. Though, the next thing she heard sent her into a tailspin.

"You like that, baby? You like when I hold you down and fuck you?"

Y/N almost hit her head against the wall. Instinctually her legs crossed, as if it would prevent her from being turned on. Which was stupid, considering every nerve in her body was on fire hearing those words come from Spencer Reid's mouth.

No fucking way, Y/N thought, slowly shifting her position on the bed.

It was a stupid idea. Probably one of the dumbest things she's ever done. But she closed her eyes, and as the woman's moans became louder through the walls, every slap of skin on skin getting louder with them, Y/N's right hand drifted under the waistband of her panties and got to work.

She couldn't help imagining what was going on. And it was rare that she could get off on just imagination alone, but this time she had the helpful addition of sound to aid her. Every time the woman moaned Spencer's name, she moved her fingers faster, alternating between rubbing her clit and completely fingering herself. And sometimes Y/N would make inevitable tiny whimpers of her own, careful not to give herself away.

She was almost to her climax when she heard it. The thing that pushed her over the edge.

"Fuck, you take it so well, pretty girl."

That one sentence, added to the impending orgasm Y/N was experiencing and the fact that she was picturing Spencer's face so clearly in her head, caused her to let out a loud moan and throw her head back against the wall with a loud thud.

So many feelings happened at once. Pain, because fuck, hitting her head on the wall without expecting it hurt like hell. Pleasure immediately after, because despite everything, her fingers stayed working, instinctively nursing herself through her orgasm. And finally embarrassment, because she definitely shouldn't have been eavesdropping on her neighbor's sexual encounters and she's positive they'd heard her intrusion.

All noises ceased for a total of two seconds before Y/N came down from her high and the sex next door resumed like nothing had happened.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck, no, Y/N thought as she scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Her head still hurt from hitting it against the wall, but that was the least of her concerns. More than anything she wanted to crawl in a hole and never return. And sure, maybe there was a small chance Spencer and his.. friend hadn't heard you, but it was practically impossible. There was no way they hadn't heard it.

Y/N peed and washed her hands, tapping her foot nervously against the cool tile the whole time. Eventually she calmed her breathing and decided that she'd just have to live with it. I mean, it's not like I'm friends with him anyway, she thought. I barely see him enough as it is, and I can ignore him like there's no tomorrow and nothing will change. Right?

And so she washed her face and got ready for bed, trying desperately not to think about how badly she'd embarrassed herself.

And then as she curled under the covers (with earbuds in just in case) she thought, Maybe I'll make him some muffins tomorrow and say I'm sorry.

The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was Spencer's face.

***

"What's wrong? Can't take it?"

She practically burned with pleasure, every inch of her body overly sensitive and completely fucked out. But she'd let him have whatever he wanted.

She cried. She tried to tell him that yes, she could take it. But tears and strangled moans were all she could manage as he continued to fuck her into the mattress.

"You gonna cum?" He asked, like she could form words.

She cried out again in answer.

He leaned forward, wiping tears from her face, and whispered, "Go ahead, pretty girl."

That was the last thing Y/N heard before she woke up, eyes shooting open and hands clutching the sheets so tightly her fingers ached. She let them go and tried to wiggle them back to life, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath.

"Oh, dear Lord," she muttered, stretching out and realizing that the past 10 hours of her life were going to haunt her for a long time.

I'm gonna have to move, aren't I, she thought sarcastically, sitting up slowly and rubbing her eyes. Though, right now it sounded like a good idea.

Y/N gathered some clothes and went to the shower, refusing to think about last night or the dream she'd woken up from. Instead she lasered all her attention to thoroughly washing her hair, body, and face. By the time the water was running cold, she stepped out, dried off and got dressed, brushing her teeth and then leaving the bathroom to turn on the coffee pot.

Before she could, there was a knock on the door.

Oh no, was her first thought, because naturally the first thing you do at any minor event after severely embarrassing yourself is panic. What if that's him? He's going to get mad at me for eavesdropping. The first thing I'm going to do when I see him is blush and panic. Fuck.

Y/N thought about ignoring it for a second. For all Spencer knew, she could still be sleeping. She could have fled the country immediately after giving herself away. She could have died from a heart attack, literally embarrassing herself to death. She could ha—

Knock knock knock.

"Shit," Y/N muttered to herself, adjusting her freshly-washed hair and praying she looked okay. If it really was Spencer at her door, she wanted to at least look like she was moving on with her life and not thinking about last night every waking second.

She ran to the door, took a deep breath and opened it, sure enough revealing Spencer Reid in her doorway, wearing a kind smile and holding a small something in his hand.

"Oh... Spencer, hi," Y/N said, pretending to be happy. Not that she wasn't ever happy to see him, but today of all days was most definitely not a good time. She only prayed he wouldn't get mad at her for eavesdropping.

"Hi, Y/N. Sorry for being here so early, but I, uh... thought you might need this."

He handed her what was in his hand, and it rattled, confusing her. She took it and flipped it over in her hands, studying the bottle.

"Advil?"

"Yeah. Seems like you hit your head on the wall pretty hard last night, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Her stomach dropped. "No."

"No... You're not okay, or no, you don't need it?"

Heat rushed to Y/N's cheeks and all she could manage was another, "No."

She only sounded slightly terrified.

But before Spencer could say anything else, Y/N looked up at him and almost started to cry. "I'm so so so sorry, Spencer, I didn't mean to hear, it just happened, and I couldn't help it, and I tried to be quiet, I really did, but it just slipped, and I feel really bad, I'm so sorry, I—"

"Whoa, whoa, Y/N, slow down. It's okay, really," he laughed. "I'm not upset or anything, I just... Truthfully I feel kind of bad for not thinking of anyone hearing. I didn't realize the walls were so thin, and had I known I probably would have... Gone about things differently. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Y/N's heart raced, but she was even more shocked by the fact that he was apologizing. "Spencer, don't be sorry. I embarrassed myself, really. I shouldn't have been listening anyway— what you do in your apartment isn't any of my business, and I messed up."

He smiled and shuffled on his feet, trying to avoid looking at you but failing. In the end he shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. "Well, in any case, I really do hope your head doesn't hurt too bad. That was a loud thump."

Y/N laughed nervously, turning the bottle over in her hands while looking at the floor. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Feels better now that I've slept it off... Thank you, though. I... I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

She looked up at him and almost started crying again, still completely embarrassed over the whole ordeal. In an attempt to not cry, she cleared her throat. "Um, I was just going put on some coffee if you... wanted to come in? I can make some eggs or something too, if you're hungry. Y'know, to say I'm sorry?"

Spencer looked like he was about to tell her not to be sorry again, but she gave him a look that said don't you dare, and he settled on nodding instead. "Sure, I'd like that."

***

"Wow. These are great."

Y/N smiled, watching Spencer eat a bite of the eggs she'd made him. "Thank you. It's a family recipe. Nothing too special, but my mom always made them for my brother and I before our first day of school every year."

He smiled. "That's nice. Really, they're great. Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem... Look, again, I really am so—"

"Y/N, stop. It's okay, really. It... happens. You don't have to be sorry."

She nodded before taking a sip of her coffee. Spencer ate some more of his eggs and the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, before it got completely unbearable.

She didn't want to keep bringing it up, but something forced the words out of her mouth. "So, your... guest... Is she your girlfriend?"

It took Spencer a minute to realize what she said, but eventually he cleared his throat, some color forming on his cheeks. "Oh, uh... no. No, I'm single. She and I had just met at a bar downtown. I don't usually do that. Go to bars, I mean. Though I suppose I don't really have one night stands all that often, either, but my co-workers and I were out last night after a... pretty rough day at work, and... before I left we met at the bar and it just kind of went on from there."

"Oh... Well, I... I'm sorry work was rough. Seems like you... handled it, though. Got over it... I mean, like, you knew how to take your mind off of it, or make it better or whatever."

Y/N froze after she said it. Immediately after, she shook her head. "God, I'm sorry. That was dumb. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, I get what you mean, it's okay, really," Spencer said quickly, seemingly amused. "It, uh... It really did help. You know, sex is a good stress reliever. The endorphins it releases puts you in a better mood and calms you down, and studies show that regular sexual activity can aid in decreasing high blood pressure during stressful situations."

"I... didn't know that. Sounds helpful. Especially with your job, I imagine."

He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "What about you? Is your job stressful?"

Y/N shrugged, kind of glad that the conversation moved away from sexual nature. Though, she supposed the reason it was there in the first place was kind of her fault. In any case, she told Spencer about her job. "It's not as stressful as other jobs can be, but I just got a promotion so all the responsibility is a little daunting, I guess."

"I'm sure you're fine," he complimented, setting his mug down. "Though... If you do ever find yourself beginning to buckle under the stress of your job, sex is a good way to keep your spirits up."

It was a joke. A reference to their conversation, the whole reason they were in this moment in the first place. So why did Y/N respond with, "What, is that your way of offering?"

I'm just full of stupid shit lately, aren't I, she thought, immediately hating herself for saying it. Things were going well, and Spencer didn't seem mad or annoyed after the whole incident, and now she was positive she'd made everything worse.

But nothing could have prepared her for what came out of his mouth next.

"Maybe it is."

She looked up at him and saw that he was completely serious. His eyes bore into her, staring her down like he was trying to compel her to say something, to do something, to put her under his spell. Y/N swallowed, trying to speak, but nothing would come out.

Oh, now you have nothing to say? Good going, Y/N...

Nevertheless, he waited. His eyes remained glued on her, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows as if to ask her, well?

Eventually, she settled on, "You mean it?"

Spencer nodded slowly, staring at her with an intensity she hadn't experienced in forever. "Only if you want to."

Immediately Y/N thought back to last night. His nasty words replayed in her ears over and over again, repeating themselves like a mantra— You like that, baby? You like when I hold you down and fuck you?

And under his burning gaze, Y/N felt like she was on fire. Her lower stomach bubbled over with desire and she imagined him fucking her like he had in her dream.

It's almost like he knew what she was thinking about. Because right before she could tell him she wanted him, he laughed softly to himself. "What are you thinking about, Y/N?"

Her name on his lips sent shivers down her spine. "W... What?"

"Tell me. You're thinking about having sex with me right now, aren't you?"

She could barely breathe. But she managed to get out a strangled, "Yes."

Spencer smirked and stood up, walking around the table but never taking his eyes off Y/N. She swallowed and stood up too, meeting his eyes and tilting her head up to look at him— really look at him. His pupils were full-blown, his lips formed into an amused smile as he reached out to touch her face. She fluttered her eyes closed and leaned into his touch, a small sigh involuntarily escaping her lips.

"How long have you been thinking about me?" Spencer asked quietly, yet the tone in his voice rather demanded an answer more than asked for one.

Y/N opened her eyes to meet his, and almost crumbled under the weight of their intensity. "S-since last night."

He hummed in response, running his thumb over her chin and up to her lips, just barely touching them. "Have you ever thought about it before then?"

She couldn't lie to him. "A few times."

That got a full smile out of him, but it disappeared rather quickly as he stepped even closer and gripped the side of Y/N's face in his right hand, his fingers barely weaving through the hair behind her ear. She gasped and looked up at him, silently begging for him to kiss her. To push her onto the table, or choke her, or something.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, keeping that even, soft tone. It sent another chill through Y/N's body.

She could hardly breathe. Could hardly form words.

Spencer slipped his hand behind her head and gripped the underside of her damp hair, tugging slightly as she whimpered. "What do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me," Y/N gasped out, completely and utterly entranced by his looming presence.

"Now?" he asked, his own way of really making sure she wanted to go through with this.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, please, fuck me. Please."

The look he gave her after she said it was purely dirty and unlike any thing she'd ever experienced. She decided then and there that if that was the reaction she'd get from him for begging, she would beg him for anything any time.

Not to mention, the way he kissed her was enough to make any man or woman fly into the sun. Both of his hands found themselves lost in her hair, pulling her head to his and practically massaging her scalp as he glided his lips across hers with a slow burning fever that made Y/N's body completely succumb to him. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, reaching up to twist her fingers through the ends of his hair, admiring how soft and perfect it felt on her skin. Once Spencer's tongue swiped over her bottom lip and softly pushed into her mouth, it was well and truly over. Y/N was done for. He could do anything he wanted and she wouldn't turn him away.

He pulled away for a moment, taking her bottom lip between his teeth before moving back in and angling his head in the other direction, kissing her deeper and causing a groan to slip from her throat.

Y/N desperately clung to his neck, wishing he could do this to her forever, but then he took one of his hands away from her head and brought it to her lower back. He completely pulled her against him, one of his legs slipping between hers and putting the slightest bit of pressure to her crotch.

She whimpered, causing Spencer to push himself against her harder, the two of them completely attached. He brought his knee up just a little, and Y/N instinctively ground against it, desperately wanting to feel any type of friction she could manage. It warmed her whole body to the core, being completely embraced by him, and in a matter of seconds she was more desperate than she'd ever been.

She pulled her face away from his reluctantly, breathing heavily and still grinding against his leg. "Please," was all the could think to say.

"Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" Spencer whispered, peppering her neck with wet kisses as he brought his leg up higher, giving her more access. He leaned his butt against the table for support, until eventually he gave in and sat down on it, bringing her down to sit on his thigh.

Y/N hesitated, halting her movements for a second before he gripped her hips and moved them forward. "Go ahead, pretty girl. Ride my thigh."

She groaned at the nickname and obliged happily, grinding down and rocking her hips against him. He continued to kiss her neck, occasionally biting down and sucking at different spots, sure to leave marks.

He hadn't even really touched her yet, and Y/N was absolutely dizzy, high on kisses and his hands burning into her hips. She felt her stomach start to coil as an orgasm came to the surface, her legs clenching tighter around him.

"You close, baby?" Spencer muttered against her neck, right under her ear. He took her earlobe between his teeth for just a moment before rocking her hips faster, bringing his leg up just a bit higher to aid her. She shoved her head into his neck and cried out his name, somewhere between a whine and a moan.

Within a matter of seconds Y/N was shaking around him, panting his name over and over while he brought his leg just a tad higher, bringing her over the edge. Her mind raced, coming to terms with what just happened and what was about to happen, and it made her tremble again, sending one more shockwave through her lower body before her hips slowed to a stop.

Spencer slid his hands back up to her head, bringing her face to his once more and kissing her. As if she wasn't already so out of breath. But it didn't matter. She only cared about his mouth and the way it captured hers like it belonged there, like it knew she was his for the taking. And she really believed that was true.

Y/N still straddled his leg, but she wanted to give him the same release he'd given her, so she attempted to climb away and moved one of her hands down to his belt.

Spencer stopped her hand and pulled his face away from hers. For a moment she thought she'd done something wrong, and she was about to apologize, but he pulled her close and stroked her hair with his hand, tilting his head to meet her gaze. "Not yet, pretty girl. I want to taste you first."

And without another second passing by, he moved the hand that grabbed her wrist between them and snuck it into her shorts and panties. Y/N jumped a little, but only because it felt too good for her own good. Her eyes fluttered shut when his middle finger grazed her clit, but his other hand gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. "No. I want you to look at me, okay?"

She nodded, and then whimpered when he slipped a finger inside of her. She lifted herself up just a little so he had more access, and sure enough his finger slipped in and out with ease.

She wanted more, but he took his hand away, and the glimmer in his eye when she pouted, visibly frustrated, sent her into another small fit of tremors.

"So antsy, pretty girl," Spencer laughed, slightly amused. Y/N would have said something, but all words escaped her when he brought his fingers to his mouth. His tongue poked out to taste-test before he completely took them in, holding eye contact with her the whole time. As he sucked his fingers clean, Y/N felt herself growing desperate again, and she ground against his leg once more.

Spencer laughed and brought his fingers out of his mouth, resting them on her hips. "You're being awfully quiet, Y/N."

"I... I don't... Is that a bad thing?"

"Not necessarily. But you didn't have a problem being loud last night."

It brought color to her cheeks. Her first instinct was to apologize but she knew he'd chastise her for it, so she didn't. Rather, she embraced the opportunity and pulled herself closer to him. "Is that what you want, Spencer? You want me to be loud for you?" Her voice was soft, somewhat contradicting what she was saying, but she looked at him through her eyelashes, biting her lip as if asking for permission.

And now it seemed like it was his turn to groan, though it came out as more of a growl as he pushed her away from him, grabbing her arm and leading her through the apartment. All the rooms were built the same so he knew where to go. He didn't take the time to scan her room, though if he did it was fast. Y/N barely had any time to react before he pulled her to him again and kissed her roughly.

As his fingers weaved through her hair again, Y/N decided to take a chance, snaking her hands down to his belt. This time he didn't stop her, his lips opening and granting her access to his tongue as she unbuckled the belt. She unzipped his pants and pushed them down his hips, but they only got about an inch down before he pulled away from her completely, leaving her empty again.

She whined, and he smirked.

"What is it, Y/N?" he asked. "What do you want?" His tone was almost condescending, like he knew exactly what she wanted.

She didn't like being teased. "I just want you," she stated, whining a bit to prove her point.

He seemed to contemplate his words for a moment before he spoke. "And... you think I should just give you what you want? After I caught you eavesdropping on me last night?"

He was only saying it to see her flushed. To embarrass her and make her shy so he could make it better in the end. She knew that, knew better, and yet it still worked. "I'm sorry," she pleaded, getting down on her knees in front of him and looking up at him with just as much desperation as she could manage. "You know I feel really really bad about it, just please let me make it up to you. Please, Spencer."

When all he did was look down at her, amused and still, Y/N batted her eyelashes and grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear. She waited to pull them down until he did or said something, but all he did was stare. She couldn't tell if he was making her wait or if he was waiting for her, and she was afraid of making the wrong decision. But, deciding that she'd been in enough trouble in the past 10 hours to last a lifetime, Y/N took a chance yet again and pulled Spencer's pants all the way down.

Still unsure of what would happen if she continued, Y/N scooted closer, but kept her eyes locked on his. She batted her eyelashes and ran her hands up his thighs, eventually wrapping around to his ass. She brought them up his lower back and around to feel his stomach before sliding down to the front of his hips. She stopped them there, gliding her thumbs over his skin in small circles as she pleaded once more for good measure.

"Pretty please."

Spencer gave in, bringing his hands to her hair and pulling her close. "It's all yours, baby."

The words sent heat straight to her lower half as she flicked her tongue out to taste the head of his cock. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and Y/N took that as her opening. She looked down and marveled at him as she took him completely in her mouth, slowly but surely, getting herself acquainted with his size.

Once she set a steady pace, she looked up at him and found that he was absolutely wonderstruck. His eyes practically sparkled as they fixed on her, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in pure adoration and fascination. Y/N took this as encouragement, bobbing her head faster and slacking her jaw as she let him hit the back of her throat with each thrust forward. She gagged once and pulled herself off, bringing her hand up to jerk him for a few seconds before using her mouth again. This was a cycle that continued until tears were streaming down her cheeks and spit was leaking down her chin, and every time she looked up at him, Spencer would groan and tighten his grip in her hair.

Eventually he stopped her, pulling her off of him and panting. "Come here," he whispered, and Y/N got up off her knees, standing up and wiping some of the spit from her face. It didn't feel all that sexy as she was doing it, though the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only thing in the entire world that could bring him joy.

He reached forward and wiped some of the tears from her cheek before kissing her, groaning into her mouth as he did so. His still hard cock pressed against her leg, and she groaned, too, before he pulled away.

That dark glimmer returned in his eye when he spoke. "Take your clothes off."

Y/N didn't have to be told twice. Immediately she threw her shirt off over her head and tossed it to the ground as Spencer stepped out of his pants. His eyes travelled down to her breasts and she noticed him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times before he looked back up at her face. Keeping eye contact and softly biting her lip, Y/N hooked her fingers around her shorts and underwear and slid them down her legs until they reached the other clothes on the floor. She kicked them to the side and tilted her head up.

She thought he might kiss her again, but instead he nodded his head towards her bed. "Lay down on your back."

As Y/N had learned pretty early on, she was quick and eager to obey, and so she did as she was told, laying down in the middle of the bed, her head resting on her pillows and the rest of her body laying flat, eagerly awaiting Spencer's next move.

She watched him as he took his shirt off, leaving him completely bare, and before she had time to admire him, he bent down and grabbed something from his pants.

A condom, Y/N realized as he made his way to her.

"You really came over with the intent to fuck me, didn't you?" she mused, unable to stop herself.

He laughed at her words, climbing over her and leaning down to press his lips to her neck in a soft kiss. "Wasn't it obvious?"

No, she thought to herself, but she didn't say anything. Though even if she wanted to, she couldn't have, because Spencer's mouth moved down her neck and to her chest. He licked a small circle over her right nipple before enclosing it entirely in his mouth, and Y/N arched her back off the bed, running her fingers through his hair.

He laughed again, taking her nipple in between his teeth before releasing it and saying, "I love how fucking responsive you are, pretty girl."

Everything about what he was saying and doing to her sent Y/N into a tailspin. Before she had time to respond, he moved his mouth to her other breast and got right to work, repeating the process.

One of his hands trailed down her body, just light enough to leave goosebumps it its wake, until it reached where she really wanted him. As if to prove his last statement, Y/N's hips bucked upwards to feel more of him, and Spencer laughed against her chest, removing his mouth from her and using both of his hands to steady her hips, pushing them into the mattress. "Can you be still for me? Use your words."

Y/N sighs and bites her lip before answering. "Yes. I can be still."

"Louder, Y/N. You promised you'd be loud for me, remember?"

If she wasn't wet before, she definitely was now. And she thought about just repeating her words louder, like she was expected to, but then something in that stupid part of her brain said to push her luck. And so she laughed back at him.

"No, I didn't."

Spencer seemed shocked. This was the first time she'd blatantly disagreed with something he said. "What?"

He seemed a little mad, but Y/N acted innocent. "Well, I asked you if you'd like me to be loud for you, and you just pulled me in here. You didn't answer me, and I didn't promise anything."

She was scared of what he would do or say, but that turned her on even more.

And without warning, Spencer jammed two of his fingers into her mouth, forcing it open and pressing them down on her tongue. "Well, sweetheart, this is me telling you. You're gonna scream my name until the whole city can hear how needy you are for me."

She almost choked on his fingers, but he took them out and slid them down her chin and neck, leaving her completely breathless. He waited a beat before laughing to himself. "Aw, see? Look what I do to you, pretty girl," he mused. "You're so submissive."

Y/N wanted to argue, but she wanted him more, so she whined and tried to move him closer, to which he laughed again and caressed her face. "That's what I thought. Now be a good girl and wait a second while I put this on, okay?"

For fear of disappointing him, Y/N replied with, "Okay," loud and clear.

He smirked, unwrapping the condom and starting to slide it over himself. "Fast learner."

And in an attempt to patch things over even more, she batted her eyes like she knew he liked, acting patient and innocent though she was pretty sure they both knew she was the exact opposite.

It paid off in the end though, because Spencer rewarded her with a sweet kiss as he ran the tip of his cock over her pussy, just barely entering. He teased her like that for about a minute before she started to get antsy, and yet he didn't let up. He raised an eyebrow at her, and catching on she reached up, grabbing the sides of his face and blinking once before talking. "Please, Spencer. Fuck me."

"Atta girl," he praised before moving forward and entering her. Immediately Y/N moaned, her mouth open and eyes just about rolling to the back of her head. Her hands slid up his face and through his hair, weaving her fingers through the soft waves as he set a steady pace, letting themselves get used to the feeling of being wrapped up in each other like this. For a moment it seemed like he forgot his promise to fuck her so hard the whole city would hear her screaming his name, but after a while, he apparently decided that she wasn't being loud enough.

"Come on, Y/N. You can do better than that."

She wanted more than anything to tell him that if he fucked her harder then maybe she would be louder, but infinitely realized that A) that was a surefire way to get chastised, and B) if she was louder, he would fuck her harder. He was going to make her work for it, and in the end she didn't mind that at all.

So she told the truth. "Fuck, Spencer, you feel so goo— ahh!"

Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, he quickly adjusted and fucked her faster, and aside from the overstimulation, it was starting to feel reminiscent of the dream she'd had last night. She wasn't crying but she felt like she could, every fiber of her being burning alive with pleasure. She felt her orgasm rising to the surface, but she didn't want this to end yet. Maybe if she was lucky Spencer would keep going after she'd finished, though at this point she was just happy to let him fuck her for any period of time.

That being said, he slowed his movements, making each stroke harder and more deliberate, and Y/N yelled out his name, hoping to get more.

"You close, pretty girl? Hmm? You wanna cum?"

The strain in his voice sent another wave of pleasure coursing through her body. He was close too, she just knew it.

"Yes," she breathed, before repeating it louder and louder. "Yes, yes, yes!"

She was just about to fall over the edge when Spencer laughed and pulled out of her, leaving her unsatisfied, empty, and confused.

"What?" she breathed, looking up at him.

He slid the condom off and tossed it aside before jerking himself off over her stomach. "Only good girls get to cum. You should have thought of that before you eavesdropped on me."

And then he came all over her stomach and chest. She would have been more angry, but the whole sight in front of her was hot as hell. Who was she to complain? She watched as his face scrunched up in pleasure, his mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. His hair faintly stuck to his face, and his hips jerked into his hand until eventually he was spent.

Y/N whined at the sight, completely turned on feeling his warm cum coating her skin and also utterly frustrated for not getting off.

Spencer opened his eyes to look at her, and she thought in that moment it looked like he would burst into flames. As his gaze raked over her body, covered in his cum and so obviously desperate for release, he licked his lips and got down, spreading her legs wider and opening her up to him.

"Wha—"

Y/N didn't get to finish her thought, because Spencer was immediately eating her out like a man starved, running his tongue through her pussy, occasionally flicking it over her clit. As expected, the louder she got the more he gave her, and at one point he started fingering her at a relentless pace, curling his fingers up against her g-spot while circling her clit with his tongue.

He brought his head up and looked at her through his eyelashes as best as he could, barely catching a glimpse of her face, completely contorted in pleasure.

"You wanna cum, pretty girl?" he teased, slowing his fingers torturously.

She whined and then threw her head back, pleading. "Spencer, please!"

He only got a little faster and then gently flicked his tongue over her clit again, to which she yelped and fisted the sheets.

In turn he moved faster. And she got louder. Faster and louder, faster and louder, until finally he gave her what she wanted.

"That's it, pretty girl. Cum for me."

Right after he said it, Y/N arched her back off the bed and fisted the sheets even harder, actually screaming his name until it came out as incoherent sobs, eventually dwindling down to whimpering and panting as he aided her down from her high.

Spencer's movements slowed to a stop, pulling his fingers out of her and pressing one final kiss to her clit before removing himself from her completely and coming up to lay down beside her.

She stayed there on her back, arms clutched at her sides, breathing deep and eyes almost heavy like she was about to fall asleep. He brushed her hair away from her face and pressed a kiss to her lips. She could taste herself on him, and it excited her. When he pulled away, she turned her head to look at him and smiled.

"I'm definitely going to have to invade your privacy more often if this is what the end result is."

Spencer laughed, his hand brushing lightly through her hair. "So that was okay? I'm sorry if I was kind of mean, I—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there. If I was really truly mad about anything you did, I would have screamed at you, not for you. Trust me. You're just fine. That was... perfect."

"Good... And you know I was just teasing you about eavesdropping, right? I'm not actually upset about it."

"No, I know. I still feel kinda bad about it though."

"Well, you shouldn't. If anything... something good came out of it, right?"

Y/N laughed, scrunching her nose as he looked at her. "Right."

After a moment, Spencer sat up and looked down at her stomach, a smirk on his face. "I'm gonna go get you a washcloth."

"Good thinking. And while you're at it could you also grab the Advil?"

He was on his way out the bedroom door, slipping on his underwear before stopping in his tracks. "Oh no... I- I didn't hurt you did I?"

"Oh! No, you didn't. I just know that I'm going to be sore, and walking will most definitely be a problem. And I am not getting out of this bed for the rest of the day, so Advil will definitely help. Thank you for that, by the way."

Spencer laughed, leaving Y/N to admire him as he walked away.

#spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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cynical-mystic · 2 years

Text

ZKMonth22 Day 29: Avatar Katara

“Excellent work, Prince Zuko,” Fire Lord Ozai said, looking down on the kneeling form of the son he’d banished not that long ago. “You made quick work of what seemed an insurmountable task. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

Zuko nodded and was dismissed from the throne room, head reeling.

Somehow he’d managed to capture the Avatar, a young woman from the Southern Water Tribe. Despite reports that all the waterbenders from the South had been captured or killed, Zuko had had a sneaking suspicion that that was where the Avatar was, powers dormant until needed.

When he’d raided her village, she’d needed them, using a waterbending move to shoot fire at him, shocking everyone in the vicinity including herself. Except him. She’d done just what he’d hoped one of them would.

Before any of them could react any more than stare in stunned silence, Zuko had tackled the girl, putting the cuffs on her before she could deflect or retaliate, and pulling her to her feet by the chain.

“Thank you for your contribution to the war effort,” he’d said to the gathered tribespeople. One of them, a boy not much older than the girl in chains, surged forward, but was shoved to the ground by one of Zuko’s guards.

“Katara!” he’d cried as Zuko pulled the girl away.

The next morning, Zuko woke up to a servant with a scroll on a platter, sealed with his father’s seal. He sat up, took the scroll, and dismissed the servant before splitting it open.

When he read his father’s order, his eyes widened.

It was his job to break the girl’s spirit? How on earth was he supposed to do that?

He tossed the scroll aside and then thought better of it, tucking it in a hiding place he knew Azula wouldn’t be able to find before pulling on his every day robes and stepping out into the hallway.

Getting to the specially made dungeon wasn’t difficult, of course. Zuko had been present when it was dedicated, almost four years ago now. Back when the previous Avatar had accidentally died in the altercation meant to capture him, Ozai realized they needed to find the new one and keep them alive.

The difficult part was going to be doing whatever needed to be done to break this girl, make it so she didn’t want to leave or fight. Maybe even work for them, he guessed, if he could accomplish such a thing.

With a sigh, Zuko signaled for the guard to unlock the door and let him in.

Unfortunately for Zuko but definitely fortunately for Katara, he decided in the moment between him being in the hallway and him being in her cell that the best course of action would be to get to know her. Act like he was on her side. Like he was trustworthy.

Unfortunately for Zuko, this led to him learning a lot about her and beginning to actually like her. Maybe even see the errors of the Fire Nation’s ways.

Fortunately for Katara, this led to him eventually deciding to let her out, telling his father that she was harmless when in actuality he wanted to get both of them out of the capital.

It didn’t hurt that he’d turned to his uncle for advice on how to handle the Avatar, either.

Their escape from the capital was so spontaneous they hadn’t even known when it was going to happen. Iroh bundled them out of the palace in the middle of the night and onto the ship Zuko had used to find her, the one Iroh owned and crewed. They immediately set sail for the Southern Water Tribe to retrieve Katara’s brother, make apologies to her people, and come up with a plan for them to retreat deeper into the South Pole because once they were discovered missing that would be the first place the Fire Nation would go. Thankfully Katara was able to waterbend them through the ocean so that they traveled twice as quickly as they would have otherwise.

Once Sokka was on board, figuratively and literally, and the rest of their tribe safe, they set a course for the Earth Kingdom and a new ship.

To Zuko’s surprise, when they were on the open water again, Katara kissed him on the cheek. She walked away, leaving him stunned with his hand on his cheek, wondering why she’d done it. He’d been the one who’d kidnapped her in the first place, after all.

“It looks like apologetic action works wonders with Water Tribe members,” his uncle mused.

#zutara #zutara month #zutara month 2022 #zutara month april 2022 #zkmonth #zkmonth22 #zutaramonth #zutaramonth2022 #fanfic #zutara fanfic #tw kidnapping #trigger: kidnapping

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unprofessional-bard · 3 years

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Don't Push It, Pt. 1

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Part 2 (1/2)

Based on this request.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (the reader is 26 and Joel is 53), a lot of teasing/sexual tension, implied romantic feelings.

Summary: It's been going on for years. They both know better than to act on their feelings, but patience starts running thin when a few boundaries are crossed.

Word Count: 5.280

Author's Note: Okay y'all so I am a whore for Joel with long hair and I unintentionally made this into a fix-it au where Joel is alive. Also, the reader is going to have some OC characteristics to fit the scenario better. Finally, this fic changes POV's a lot, so I'm gonna clear that up:

• ----R and below: The reader's POV.

• ----J and below: Joel's POV.

• ----B and below: Both POV's.

The fic starts off with Joel's POV.

Enjoy!

gif credits: nikolai-stavrogin

"Hey, Joel," Dina called over to the man sipping coffee on his porch.

"Mornin' Dina," He replied as his daughter's girlfriend walked over to him. Her baby bump had grown a little more and it never failed to put a smile on Joel's face.

"There's a little trouble with the patrol today," She said. "Jesse won't be able to make it to patrol with (Y/N)."

Shit.

"And they're askin' me to fill in?" He sat up a little.

"Yup, Maria told me to ask you if-"

"No problem, sure, I'll do it." He spoke nonchalantly, then asked if Jesse was alright. Dina told him she wasn't sure, that it must be something important for him to miss patrol, which made Joel nod: "You told (Y/N) too, or...?"

"No, but she's gonna be there regardless. I doubt that she knows."

"Alright, thanks Dina," Joel got up and she smiled in return before walking over to Ellie's place.

It was wrong. By the lord it was wrong, but he couldn't help it. You were fierce, confident, determined and disciplined; qualities he came to appreciate in time, but a bit differently only when it came to you. He shouldn't want you, an unknown source in his mind kept telling himself, but he did. He didn't know why, he never found himself being attracted to a woman your age, yet you had him under your spell. Oh the things you did to him...

Worst part was, he couldn't have you, whether he liked it or not. Nevermind the fact that you were too young for him, you probably didn't want him anyways- despite the crystal clear signals he got from you. It was just how you were, though: A little physical and perhaps a little flirty, but he could just be confusing that with your confidence.

Or he could be overthinking everything.

Joel readied his backpack, but realised there was still a little more than an hour before the rendez-vous, so he decided to head over to your place to tell you about the news to kill some time. After he made it there and knocked on your door while calling your name a couple of times, which were left unanswered, your neighbour curiously looked over the fences and called over to Joel: "She left a while ago... For the gym, I think."

"Thank you," Joel smiled politely and earned a wave from the lady in return. He took his time as he walked over to the gym. After he arrived, he looked around for awhile to spot where you were, but when he found it, the sight almost made him choke.

There you were, ankles crossed as you pulled yourself up and chin over the barfix with closed eyes, a frown and a clenched jaw. Sweat laced the sides of your face and Joel's eyes wandered lower: You were wearing a sports bra and matching shorts which hugged your frame tightly and the sun was shining directly onto your muscles, which the lord himself carved out and were also sweaty, but Joel didn't care - it made you look more attractive, if anything. You let out a huff and lowered yourself down, while he tried to collect himself. He didn't want to disturb you so he decided to wait until you finished...

...but you didn't seem to be finishing any time soon. He didn't want to look like a creep as he stood there and waited, so after you did another pull up and let yourself down, he cleared his throat.

----R

"(Y/N), here you are."

Had you not been already hanging, you definitely would've fell when you heard Joel's voice reach your ears. You opened your eyes to see him slowly approach you, his stupid thumb stuck in behind his stupid belt.

You hated it: You hated finding this man attractive and you hated your guts for occasionally flirting with him - him, who probably would never look at you the way you looked at him. He liked you, of course, he enjoyed your company but not the way you wanted him to. You hated that you had a crush on this man, who became even more gorgeous as he let his hair grow over the last few years, you also hated how he neatly parted it to the left.

Patrol with him was both a treat and a curse at the same time. You got to spend time with him, which made it a treat, but when you watched him- saw him in action, how aggressive he was, heat started to pool between your thighs. He was so rough and precise as he was smart; he always knew what to do under any circumstance, so you almost never worried when you went out with him. He made you feel safe, praised you and played with your heart when he responded to your flirting and nothing came out of it.

You hated it because your little "crush" on him was pathetic, for someone as confident as you. Sure, you teased and flirted with him, but one praise as simple as you did well today and you'd be melting on spot. You even tried to get with other people to distract yourself, to no avail. They weren't Joel.

None of them could ever be Joel.

"Good morning!" You said with a high pitched voice, reflecting your struggle to keep yourself up.

"To you too," He chuckled at your state and watched as you pulled yourself up slowly. "Hey, listen. Jesse ain't gonna make it to patrol today so I'm fillin' in for him."

----B

The way you faltered a little didn't escape him: "Why? Is he okay?"

"I dunno, but I'm sure he is. Something important must've come up," Joel informed you, not wanting to worry you as you seemed to care about him. A lot. Ugh.

"Tsk," You breathed out and closed your eyes to focus on keeping your head above the metal bar.

Joel then spoke again: "Yeah, I was just here to let ya know."

"Okay, well-" You exhaled audibly and suddenly let yourself go. The force of the action sent you flying a little and it almost made you bump into him: "Woah, oh, sorry-"

"Woah there," You both chuckled at the same time. Joel held you by your elbows to help you balance yourself and your heart rate picked up pace when you realised how close your face was to his chest a moment ago - the chest you wanted to get your hands on: How muscular was he? How many scars did he have there? How would it feel to run your fingers through the hair as you ro-

"Uhm, yeah, as I was saying," You snapped yourself back to reality and took a small step back, disappointed by the way his fingers let go of your arms: "I'm done here, just need to do a couple of stretches, then head back and take shower."

"Right. Well, I'll see you at the gate, then?"

"Uh, sure, yeah."

You didn't know what else to say other than stay. You wanted him near you and around you, you wanted to show off to him and you wanted his attention, so you had to think quick.

Joel didn't want to leave either, even though you were going to spend the whole day together. He still nodded and turned around to leave. It was then, when a brilliant idea crossed your mind: "Actually, Joel?" He turned around, gave you a soft look that made you want to run up to him and kiss all over his face. "Could you help me with my stretches?"

If he'd been drinking or eating anything, he most definitely would've choked: "Help you?"

"Yeah," You flashed a smile at him. "It's simple, you just gotta press me down and keep me in place." The widening of his eyes, puzzled face and his tense posture made you shy. "Eh- Normally, Jesse helped me with them."

True. Some stretches required someone to push your body to its limits - when you worked out alone, you stuck to simpler stretches, but right now, you needed a reason to have him by your side.

Joel was torn between leaving, like a responsible person who knew when to walk away would. He was responsible, yes, but his moral compass was thrown out of the window whenever you joined the picture. So far, he wanted to think he was handling his emotions well- by not acting on them and not talking about them.

Now, however, it was as if he was facing the last straw. He had a few boundaries left to cross, and this was one of them.

"Plus, I'm a bit tired to do them. Will you help me?"

Lies. All lies.

You'd been doing these stretches for long enough, even though you'd worked hard, you weren't tired at all. Joel thought this to be the case, so he tried to go around it: "You sure? I mean, how're you tired?"

"I've been training like hell this morning," You settled on the mat. "I don't wanna do these stretches, but I have to. I'm not in the mood to pull a muscle today."

That was good enough for him really: "'Kay," He sighed. "What do you need me to do?"

Your eyes glowed in excitement before you faced forward and explained: "Im gonna lean forward, like this-" You extended your legs forward and lowered yourself down. "All you gotta do is press on my back and stop me from moving away for a few seconds."

A few seconds which felt like five minutes, truth be told.

As soon as he touched your bare back, you sighed, then forced it into a hiss. He immediately retreated his hands, thinking he hurt you, pushing the ludicrous idea that you might have moaned away immediately.

His hands were big and a little cold comparing to your skin which was on fire after the workout, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't do that on purpose. You straightened up and looked at him with an innocent smile: "Your hands are cold."

Not cold enough to make you react like that, obviously.

Joel offered an awkward chuckle from the back of his throat: "You're gonna have to deal with it, missy."

And deal with it you did- barely. Christ, that was a bad idea, your worst one yet. To have his hands on your bare skin, pressing you down made your cheeks burn and mouth hang open as he kept you in place. You almost didn't hear him when he spoke, too busy trying to comprehend the size of his hands and how they'd feel around your throa-

"How many of these do you gotta do?"

"Uh, dunno," You blurted out. "Not too many."

Joel was partly glad, it felt so wrong yet it was just a simple act of help you could've asked from anyone. After 20 seconds of staying like that, you straightened. You went into a head-to-knee position and gave him an okay to press you down again.

You switched to the other leg after half a minute, but you were running out of ideas. There weren't any positions left that you could use his help with, so you played one last card to ruin him: "More."

"W-What?"

Good riddance.

"Press a little harder," You pretended to focus and tried your best not to smirk, knowing you had him where you wanted.

"Oh- hm," He cleared his throat and pressed a little more down on your back. If your plan hadn't backfired and made you almost moan through your teeth, everything was going accordingly.

Joel went to pull back, but stopped when you added: "It's been a while since I did these..."

Christ.

"That enough?" He slowly retreated his hands and stood up, watching you lean up where you sat.

"Yup, that'll be it," You smiled and blinked a couple of times. If Joel had known better, he would've thought you were making him do that, then being all cute on purpose-

It was going to be a long day.

----R

Patrol with the older Miller went as normally as it always was. Part one usually went like this: Meet up at the gate, get your rifles and horses, ride out, reach checkpoint one and sign your names. The road to checkpoint one didn't have any trouble, it usually never did. It was more quiet between you two than usual though. Had you gone too far?

"So, uh," You said once the two of you mounted your horses again. "You coming to the dance tonight?"

"What?" He snapped his head in your direction, looking clueless. "What dance?"

"Well, not a dance exactly but- you know what I mean?" You started riding. "The adults only event?"

He looked really distracted, a bit tense even: "Oh, right. You know those ain't my thing."

"I know," You nodded with a soft smile. "But I haven't seen you in any event ever since you decked Seth."

"Decked?" Joel chuckled bitterly at the memory.

"He deserved it, and more, that prick," You rolled your eyes, making him chortle.

"And nobody managed to shut up about it for the whole month," He sighed with a gorgeous yet tired smile on his face which you managed to see just in time. "So, no thanks. I'll pass."

"Aw, come on," You whined. "You can't avoid coming to these events forever. Please?"

He gave you a confused look, his smile slowly disappearing but not in a bad way: "Why?"

A good question. Oh, no reason, just wanna try and make a move on you, quite possibly jump your bones if it all goes well.

"I wanna make sure you haven't lost your ability to socialise." You offered.

"Really? Why, you're my momma now?"

"Ew, no," You both laughed. "Can't I be sure my friend is alive and well occasionally?"

----J

Friend.

A word that made Joel stop and think.

You saw him as a friend, huh? Two people, with clear sexual tension and an obvious age gap between them- Friends was an awkward description for him, but it was better than nothing.

He opened his mouth to reply, to insist that he was indeed alive and well, but you stopped him: "You know what I mean."

The conversation was making him a little distracted, he noticed, so he decided to keep his mouth shut until you reached checkpoint two. You didn't press him on, which was also a delight. That's another thing he liked about you: You knew your bounds- in patrol anyways. Or maybe it was because you got to know him well over the time, knew what he liked or not.

Part two went quieter too- infected and conversation wise. Not even a single runner was on sight as you swept through the small cabins and houses. Except for the occasional clear's and nothing here's, you didn't say anything else. Joel itched to talk to you, about anything to break the silence, but he was too lost in thought.

When you finally made it back to Jackson, you finally spoke up: "So? You coming?" He chuckled, mostly out of relief, then you added: "I found a new outfit, I wanna know what you think."

That caught Joel's attention. With a curious smile, after handing over your horses, he asked: "What outfit?"

"You'll see... If you come." You smirked, your close proximity making Joel's heart race.

"Don't get your hopes up," He sighed with a small grin and tucked his thumb behind his belt, the other one gripping the strap of his rifle.

"You're the worst," You punched his shoulder with mock upset, making him chortle and stumble a little to the right. "Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow then."

Joel remained quiet, then you walked away with a soft smile gracing your lips. The words sunk deeper than he would've liked, a sudden wave of guilt soaking his guts with regret, even though you didn't sound disappointed or upset. Lips pursed, he watched you hand your rifle to Peter and sign off, then leave; his steps coming to a halt as you did.

He just might check out what was up at the dance tonight, if he could successfully move himself out of his comfort zone in the following few hours.

----R

"Well well, look who it is," Tommy grinned when you approached the doors of the pub. The night had settled across the sky by the time you stepped outside your place. The sound of music and chatter of the people from inside filled your ears.

"Yours truly," You smirked. "It's crowded in there huh?"

"It sure is," Tommy said as he turned around to lead you inside. "Adults only events tend to attract more people, as y'can guess. Don't you look pretty today."

"Why thank you." You smiled playfully: "For no one, but myself, at that."

You lied through your teeth. You had dressed up in the silly hope that Joel would actually show up. You had been planning on it ever since you came across the item wrapped around your hips in an abandoned clothes shop a few weeks ago, and this event was the perfect excuse for you to wear it. For him.

"I ain't sayin' nothing!" Tommy raised his hands up in defense. "Figured that much, haven't seen anyone catch your interest in a long time."

Ha. Nice.

The atmosphere was lively and the air was warm, full of energy. Chatter and dancing went about the packs of people scattered across the space, but you couldn't see Joel, much to your disappointment - you weren't surprised though. What surprised you was Jesse suddenly showing up.

"Where's Ellie and Dina?" You asked after a while of teasing him about missing patrol.

"They decided to stay behind, I guess." He shrugged.

"What can I get y'all?" Tommy smiled, suddenly appearing behind the counter. Without waiting for an answer, he filled two glasses and pushed them towards you. You and Jesse looked at each other for a brief moment, before knocking it back at one go. "Woah there..."

A round of laughter later, you felt someone's presence behind you, then they tapped you on the shoulder: "Hey, (Y/N)!"

Much to your disappointment, once more, it was a boy named Mark. He was a year older than you, had no features whatsoever matching Joel's prettier ones and he took an obvious liking to you, which in truth you didn't appreciate, even though he wasn't weird about it or anything. You faked a smile and turned to him a little: "Hi."

"Good to see you," Sure. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Busy, actually," You pointed at the glass Tommy was refilling for you.

"Mind if I join?" He made himself comfortable on the stool next to you.

"Yeah. I do." Your smile never faded but your words were laced with poison.

He looked between you, Tommy and Jesse, mortified at your answer: "W- Heh, well, would you wanna dance later, then-?"

"No, I don't." You spoke calmly and turned to face Jesse again, only for him to move to tap you on the shoulder, which Tommy stopped from happening.

"Why don't you go home, huh?" He grabbed his wrist firmly, but not hard enough to leave a bruise of course. "The lack of oxygen in your brain's clearly stoppin' you from understandin' a word as simple as no."

You looked over at the younger Miller, a stern look on his face which seemed to make Mark piss himself. Suddenly, an even deeper voice was heard behind the boy: "I advise you to listen to him, son."

You turned completely in your seat to see Joel grabbing Mark by the shoulders, making him jump, then remove him from the seat carefully. Mark's legs were quick to oblige, making him walk towards the exit, but Joel held him in place: "A-ah, what do you say to the lady?"

"I'm s-sorry, (Y/N)," He nodded quickly. "I'll never disturb you again, I promise."

"Good boy," Joel patted him on the back, which sent him running to the door. Your cheeks were suddenly burning and you couldn't help but smile shyly.

"Tsk, what a jackass," Tommy nodded disapprovingly as Joel took the now empty space next to you.

"You decided to show then, huh?" You smirked at Joel.

"Yeah, figured you'd break someone's wrists and make 'em eat it," He chuckled, tipping his head at his brother in a greeting -God he looked so handsome, was that a new shirt?- before he continued: "Decided it'd be a shame to miss it."

You giggled and lightly pushed at his arm, almost immediately feeling the muscles underneath the rolled up sleeve of his blue shirt: "I'll take that as a I came because you asked and I listened for once." The exchange, obviously, didn't go unnoticed by his brother and Jesse, which made you sit upright suddenly: "Tommy was the one who was gonna break his wrist anyways..."

"Nobody gets to disturb anyone here, especially right in front of me," He said and slid a glass to his brother.

Jesse joined in: "I doubt it, but should he ever-"

"Aw, you guys are spoiling me," You grinned and waved your hand down, pressing the other onto your chest.

----J

You looked beautiful. You were wearing a plain, dark green, mid-thigh, flare skirt; which could pass as a miniskirt, but Joel was no fashion expert. You always did come up with the rarest clothing items (like your sports set that morning), so he wasn't surprised that you happened across the skirt. You also had a simple, white, v-neck t-shirt on- which all in all was the reason you left Joel speechless: You could be wearing something as simple as these, but you'd still look so damn pretty.

A few minutes later, after Jesse and Tommy disappeared in different directions and you were finally left alone, Joel spoke up: "Is this the-"

"What made you-" You gave each other a brief look before chuckling: "You go first."

"Ah, I was gonna ask if this was the outfit you wanted me to see," He said, briefly looking down to point at your skirt.

He watched you run a hand through your hair and bite your bottom lip before answering: "Yeah..." You got up and stuffed your hands in your pockets, which made Joel's heart sizzle. "What do you think?"

He gave you a genuine smile: "I think you look beautiful."

The shock on your face made Joel panick a little, but when you offered a shy little smile, he relaxed: "You- Really?"

He gave you a single, slow nod in acknowledgement, his smile grew bigger when you beamed at him and offered him a quiet thank you, then sat back. You were staring hard at your glass, clearly avoiding his gaze and he found it rather cute, but didn't comment on it.

He was looking forward to chat with you, after all, you were the reason why he showed up, but you were unfortunately dragged away by a couple of friends, Jesse included...

To dance.

An upbeat song he didn't recognise started playing, putting you and another boy, Mick, to action. Everyone backed away to give you two space, then started off with what seemed to be something you'd been practicing for a while. You mirrored each other's moves, it was similar to some folk dance he'd watched way before the outbreak, but it most definitely wasn't a folk dance. Your arms linked occasionally, hands on your hips as you crossed each other's legs with fast movements and other types of moves Joel couldn't name if he tried, but it was organised and fun to watch. It wasn't intimate, too, just a silly little dance as you called it minutes later when you finished and walked to the bar for a drink. You didn't stay long, though, just downed your drink, winked at him and went back to the stage where you and Mick (but mostly you) stole the show.

It went on for two more rounds, to the point your t-shirts were absolutely soaked and your legs couldn't take it anymore. Joel had a particularly hard time in his seat, watching your skirt float around your thighs made him feel embarrassed with himself. Tommy even went as far as to tease him about his constant squirming, but a glare from his older brother was enough to shut him up.

The last dance finished off with you in Mick's arms, leaning back in his hold and closing your eyes with laughter. Everyone clapped you both, which earned you a kiss on the cheek from Mick- which you returned. Joel's jaw clenched unintentionally, even though you and him didn't appear to be more than friends.

Stop. Stop it, you idiot.

He couldn't care less about these types of things, drama about who's dating who and whatnot, but when it came to you he naturally grew curious.

He watched you, eyelids struggling to keep themselves open as Jesse led you and helped you onto the stool, next to Joel once more. You huffed and giggled, eyes closed with sweat droplets on your forehead. He couldn't help it when his smile grew wider at your tipsy state.

What he didn't see coming was the sudden hand on his thigh and your back against his arm, letting your head drop onto his shoulder as you let out a brief laugh: "Never let me dance and drink at the same time again."

Joel didn't know what to say, he quickly looked around for Jesse only to find him already gone and a couple of people staring at the both of you. With a rush of panic, he responded: "I don't think I'm the one you should say that to, darlin'."

Your hand and the rest of your body immediately retreated when you jumped at his voice: "Joel?!" You looked a little embarrassed and he couldn't help but smirk. "Uh, where's Jesse?"

The question almost made him scrunch up his face, but he patiently waited until the end of the conversation, which was after you've walked away to find the boy in question and he was alone with his own thoughts... Jealousies...

"He dropped you off and went over there, I think." Joel nodded to the direction he thought Jesse went off to - he didn't see though, he was too busy focusing on you when your fingertips had brushed somewhere dangerously near his crotch.

"Huh," You stared around to find him, but Joel figured you were too intoxicated to actually see that far. "You need to stop wearing the same clothes."

He raised a brow at that: "You tell him that."

"Oh I will," You grinned mischievously and suddenly grabbed Joel's glass of whiskey from his hand, then downed it at one go before he could intervene.

"Hey!" He tried to grab the glass from you but you leaned back. "I think you've had enough for the night."

"Says who-?" You pouted and at the very same time, lost your balance, realising that you leaned a little too back. However, Joel caught you; one hand on your arm, the other on your waist and he pulled you back - he didn't know if you did it purposefully, but you practically fell into his body: "Oh! I'm sorry-" You laughed, not looking sorry at all. "Thanks, Joel," You purred, extending the 's' and the 'l' at the end of each word as you grabbed onto his biceps. "You saved me."

"Pfft," Joel couldn't help but let his hand linger on your waist as he made sure you stood in place. Your eyes met when you lifted your head from his chest - the meaning behind his hazel gaze and your own was similar and it lasted for what felt like a whole minute, while in reality it was no longer than a few seconds.

You finally let his arms go and he took it as his cue to remove his hand from your waist (which, for a moment, felt like it had been glued there): "So... You enjoying yourself, old man?"

Joel sighed through his nose, amused at how the alcohol in your system was slowing your speech, then went back to how he had been sitting before you came. Just when you asked, the smooth, familiar tune of Ain't No Sunshine started playing. After all the excitement, a slower music felt nice: "Sure. You?"

"Oh I sure am," You nodded and leaned back against the counter with something of a triumphant smile.

"I can tell," Joel replied, then without turning his head, side eyed you. His stare later on moved down to your skirt. "Why'd you get all dressed up for, really?"

"Huh?" You blinked, not processing if he was asking what you thought he was.

"I, uh- just never took you for the skirt type."

"Is that so?" You asked, eyes widening. "Well, just trying on a new outfit..." You looked down and bit your lower lip, making Joel's heart skip a beat. He mentally kicked himself for not leaving right then and there and continuing to talk to you: "There's actually another reason."

"Hm?"

"There's this guy," You turned towards him, placed your arm paralleled across his on the counter and leaned forward a little, pretending to look around. His fingertips scratched against the wooden surface of the counter at the mention of this guy in question. "I don't know his name, but maybe you do?"

He just raised a brow when you looked at him innocently: "He's a bit old, around this tall," Your hand went back and forth in the air as you tried to size the man's height in your mind. "Has pretty, long, graying hair with an also graying beard... A little scar on his nose," You looked at him and leaned in a little more, invading his personal space but not touching him, then pointed at the exact spot on your nose and it was then, Joel realised, that you were indeed describing himself. "He's wearing this blue shirt and, honestly, it would look better on him if he opened another button or two."

I know, I know

Hey I oughta leave young thing alone

But ain't no sunshine when she's gone

He wanted to counter, tease you back, lean down and taste your lips, then place a kiss or two on your neck and bite it softly just to hear you moan quietly into his ear- he also needed to get his shit together, as much as he wanted to do all of that.

He couldn't quite believe his self control when he leaned away from you, especially since the tip of your noses almost touched and he felt your hot breath on his lips. He cleared his throat and quickly looked around to see if anyone was looking- no one had seen the rather intimate interaction so he spoke: "I don't know who that is."

The disappointment on your features was like a knife twisting up in his guts. You blinked a couple of times, but didn't lean back: "S- Sure you do..."

"I don't," Joel insisted, his voice stern. "Maybe you should look for someone else."

Your disappointment turned into embarrassment and anger, making you frown and lean back: "Excuse me."

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And this house just ain't no home

Anytime she goes away

And with that, you got up and stormed away, leaving Joel wanting, aching and ashamed.

Anytime she goes away

494 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 3 years

Note

I have an idea for a one shot, Elucien, Nessian, and Feysand cutest couple contest and Elucien wins but then Eris and Arina walk in and actually win 😂

Okay anon, I'm sorry I sat on this for so long but it took me a hot minute to figure out how to write this.

I think you wanted fluff? Anyway you get unhinged insanity. This is the mating game (like the newly wed game) and if ANYONE says I got any of these couples besides Elucien wrong, it's because this is my first time writing them in earnest.

This is SFW though there are impolite sexual references so exercise good judgement. References to HENrietta the chicken (no apologies).

“What is this, again?” Nesta groused, crossing one leg over the other.

“It’s the mating game,” Gwyn, ever cheerful, replied. Beside her, Azriel helped organize a stack of cards, offering them to Gwyn without a word. The red-haired priestess perched on a stool to survey the group of people sitting in Rhys and Feyre’s drawing room. Though the game ought to be fun on its own, there were bottles of liquor just out of reach on a nearby table surrounded by cups and snacks.

“Why doesn’t he have to play?” Rhysand demanded, jerking his head towards the spymaster. All heads turned to look at Gwyn and Az, the two newest mates in Rhysand’s inner circle.

“Because he doesn’t want people knowing his personal business,” Gwyn offered. Azriel’s cheeks flushed as Lucien, Rhysand, and Cassian all glanced anywhere but at the females across from them. Twin black, leather couches had been rearranged for the game, with males on one side and females on the other. Behind the males, a roaring fire kept the howling wind outside from leeching cold into the softly lit room.

“Can we start or—”

“Not so fast,” Eris Vanserra stated, bursting through the twin glass, French doors theatrically. Behind him Arina, bundled in a puffy red coat, rolled her eyes and shook out long, blonde hair.

“I invited them,” Elain murmured quickly before Cassian or Rhysand could protest. “Arina is my best friend.”

“Hurtful, baby sister,” Eris intoned, joining the other males across the room. Arina plopped between Nesta and Elain, squeezing her friend tight. Azriel offered Arina a large stack of white cards and a black marker while Gwyn offered the same to Eris. It was impossible not to notice how Azriel’s eyes avoided Eris despite how desperately Eris was clearly trying to provoke him.

“The rules of this are simple,” Gwyn, perhaps sensing a squabble brewing, began explaining the rules of the game. “I ask questions about your mate, and you answer. The team with the most right answers wins that knife in the corner, generously donated by my mate, not to be used on anyone in this room.” Her eyes slid to Eris as she said that last part. Behind Azriel sat a gleaming silver hunting knife with a black, leather wrapped hilt placed just beside a matching leather sheath.

“Males first,” Rhysand decided and though Gwyn rolled her eyes, she didn’t contradict him.

“Want to take bets on who wins?” Cassian whispered.

“Shush,” Feyre shot back.

“The first question: What would your mate liked you to have served them when you accepted the bond?” Gwyn asked. All four females immediately turned to their cards. Elain began scribbling immediately, her lips upturned in a smile that very much said her and Lucien had discussed this before. Arina, too, was writing though her shoulders shook with laughter.

Nesta frowned, looking over at a furiously scrawling Cassian. “Did I not give him exactly what he wanted?” She whispered.

“No cheating!” Feyre elbowed Nesta though she hadn’t written anything either.

“Ten seconds,” Azriel warned. Everyone turned back to their cards, the only sound the squeaking of markers on slippery paper.

“Time.”

“Okay, we’ll start with Feyre. What would your mate likedyou to have served them when you accepted the bond?” Gwyn asked, teal eyes twinkling.

Feyre glanced towards Rhys, who was grinning openly. Azriel narrowed his eyes.

“No mind sharing,” the spymaster warned the pair of them.

“We’re not,” Feyre replied earnestly though the glitter in Rhysand’s violet eyes told the room he had definitely tried. “I wrote exactly what I gave him.”

“Turn your card, Rhys!” Gwyn replied excitedly. Rhys’ grin only widened.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Nesta snapped when Rhys revealed Feyre herself.

Beside Rhys, Lucien began shaking with silent laughter.

“Nesta?”

“I wrote what Feyre wrote,” Nesta replied, turning a card that read a biscuit.

“Oh…babe…we are going to lose,” Cassian said sadly, turning a card that read A nice roast.

“Ungrateful, is what you are,” Nesta grumbled.

“Elain?” Gwyn asked hopefully.

“Lucien said he would have been fine with dirt,” Elain replied, her card written neatly to reflect exactly what she said. Lucien turned his own card excitedly to reveal the word dirt written in impossibly nice calligraphy.

“The bar is so low,” Gwyn mumbled. “Okay, Arina, give us what you’ve got.”

“Eris wanted an apple pie,” she replied, flipping her card with a wink. Eris grinned, revealing his own card that had a drawing of an apple pie, followed with a little arrow pointing to his description that read apple pie.

“We cannot lose to Vanserra’s,” Cassian told Nesta.

“Then do better,” she hissed.

“Next question,” Gwyn interrupted, her teal eyes bright with amusement. “What is your mate afraid of?”

Everyone collectively groaned as they wrote. “This feels like political subterfuge,” Eris grumbled.

“Like anyone cares about your fears,” Azriel mumbled as a reply.

The responses were only a little better. Feyre and Rhysand both guessed my mate dying as their response. Nesta wrote endless warwhile Cassian responded with nothing, causing a booming laugh to escape Azriel’s mouth. Elain and Lucien also wrote my mate dying, and Eris, grinning at Arina, clapped his hands when she wrote falling into a pit trap. He’d done another drawing of a stick figure falling into a hidden hole causing the room to burst into speculation as to whether it had happened or not. The twinkle in Arina’s eyes suggested it very much had.

“Next question. What was the first thing your mate thought when they saw you for the first time?” Gwyn’s enthusiasm was unmatched and Azriel scooted just a little closer to Gwyn, his own hazel eyes bright with affection.

“Don’t get this one wrong, darling,” Rhys told Feyre as he wrote.

“I just know you two are cheating somehow,” Cassian complained.

“If we were cheating, we wouldn’t be losing to the Vanserra brothers,” Feyre shot back. “No offense, Lucien.”

“Some offense taken,” Lucien joked.

“Turn over your cards,” Azriel demanded.

Feyre went first. “I wrote, my mate is a human.” Rhys groaned, flipping over a card that read, “most beautiful female I’d ever seen.”

“That’s what I thought!” Feyre replied, outraged. Rhys merely shrugged. “We were thinking the same thing.”

Nesta, smirking, turned her card over next. My mate is terrifying.

Cassian cackled, revealing a card that read Nesta scared me.

“I know that’s romantic but…wow, Cas,” Azriel teased. Cassian merely shrugged.

“I always knew my perfect female would terrify me.”

“Same,” Nesta agreed with a smile.

Elain flipped over her card which read, oh no.

“You two sure are romantic,” Gwyn joked when Lucien’s card said the same.

“How do we know they’re not cheating?” Rhys demanded; eyes narrowed. Lucien sighed, exasperated.

“Perhaps we spend more time talking than the rest of you,” he suggested. Rhys considered that.

“Maybe. But only because my mouth is occupied—”

“C’mon!” The room complained. Even Gwyn narrowed her eyes at the High Lord, who displayed not one ounce of shame. Arina went last.

“Eris thought about how to get me naked,” Arina replied, revealing her card. True to form, Eris had drawn a rather crude image that caused Lucien to take the card from his elder brother and rip it in half.

At the end of the first round both Lucien and Elain and Arina and Eris were winning, with Feyre and Rhys coming in second and Nesta and Cassian in last place. They were given some time to talk with one another while Gwyn flipped through her cards, but the males were only interested in a rare bottle of whiskey Rhysand had recently acquired.

“This is why we’re losing,” Nesta complained when Cassian did two shots consecutively with Lucien.

“Hardly,” Elain teased as Azriel chuckled in agreement. Cassian narrowed his eyes towards his brother and Azriel shrugged.

“I heard enough up at that house.”

“Okay, okay, let’s do round two so we can all drink,” Gwyn insisted, urging everyone back to their spots. Elain winked at Lucien as Eris called, “We can’t let Lucien and Elain win.”

“Hey!” Elain cried.

“Full offense, Elain,” Eris added, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs from his younger brother.

“First question,” Gwyn called over the chatter. “What is your mates perfect day?”

The males all immediately began scribbling responses while the females watched suspiciously. Feyre went first. “In my art studio.”

Rhys groaned as he flipped his card. “In my bed.”

“You had to know I wasn’t going to write that,” Feyre chided.

“Ah but you were thinking it,” Rhys crooned.

Cassian, too, flipped over a card revealing a wholly inappropriate answer. Nesta sighed as she flipped hers over.

“Seriously? With my girls eating cake?”Cassian asked with disbelief while Gwyn rose from her stool to high-five Nesta.

“Hell yes, Cass. You know I love you.”

“Do I?”

Lucien was quick to flip over his card. “In the garden.”

Elain beamed, her own card reflecting his answer.

“That’s a euphemism, by the way,” Lucien informed the group, his cheeks-tinged pink from the alcohol. Elain spluttered, clearly embarrassed for all Lucien noticed. Cassian high-fived him with what he clearly thought was some covertness.

Eris was the last to flip his card which, true to form, depicted a rather crude drawing. Beneath it he’d written, getting absolutely wrecked.

Arina laughed. “You know me so well.” Her overturned card read Non-stop fucking.

“More information than I ever needed,” Azriel grumbled.

“Jealous?” Eris taunted. Azriel leveled an unyielding stare.

“In your fucking dreams.”

“I do dream of you,” Eris replied with a mocking grin.

“Who doesn’t?” Gwyn asked, defusing the situation with a smile. Next question, gentleman.”

“Don’t be gross this time,” Elain murmured, sending Lucien the sweetest death glare to ever exist.

“What are your mates biggest pet peeve?” Gwyn asked. All four males hesitated, glancing towards their mates as they wrote.

As usual, Rhys and Feyre went first. He wrote Tamlin which earned a round of laughter though did not match Feyre’s response (unlabeled paint tins). Cassian guessed Nesta’s answer right (being told what to do) and for the first time, Lucien guessed Elain’s answer wrong.

“Weeds?” Elain asked with an eye roll as she flipped a card to reveal mismatched patterns.

“Ah I almost wrote that,” Lucien said with a sheepish grin, reaching for the bottle of whiskey in Cassian’s hands.

“Are we going to let Eris win?” Nesta asked incredulously as he flipped over his card. It was a drawing of his face with big x’sfor eyes.

Arina laughed, her card reflecting his answer.

“I’m so afraid to go to Autumn Court,” Cassian mock whispered to Rhys. The High Lord nodded as he poured out more shots.

“Last question!” Gwyn told the room. “What is the best gift your mate ever gave you?”

All four men immediately began writing.

“Cassian I know what you’re thinking—”

“You don’t,” Cassian interrupted with a grin that told everyoneexactly what he was thinking.

“That’s my sister,” Elain reminded Cassian, who merely laughed.

Feyre got a little weepy when Rhys flipped over his card to reveal Nyx written in elegant script. She went and plopped into his lap, twining her arms around his neck. “Is that what you wrote, darling?” She showed him her card which did, indeed, have Nyx written on it.

“Ugh,” Nesta and Elain complained at the same time when the two began kissing. Cassian interrupted their moment with more crudeness.

“What?!” He asked with a laugh when she tossed her card at him. “We were losing anyway and these two—” He jerked his thumbs towards Rhys and Lucien –“Are being gross and sentimental. Is that what you want? Open, public displays of affection?”

“Were you not already?” Azriel asked with one arched brow. Nesta’s cheeks immediately reddened.

“What did you write?” Cassian demanded, picking up his card. His face softened at what he saw. “Oh Nes.”

“Oh no,” Azriel muttered when Nesta attacked Cassian’s mouth with her own. “Someone stop them.”

“Hey,” Lucien snapped next to Cassian’s ear. “Save that for later.”

“What did the card say?” Gwyn asked curiously. Nesta showed the red head her card, displaying my freedom to the room.

Lucien flipped his card quickly. “See, this is what I meant,” Cassian grumbled when Lucien revealed the word you to which Elain, beaming, revealed a second wrong answer.

“Did you really write Lucien’s best gift was the chicken you two share?” Arina asked with disbelief, looking at Elain’s card.

“Henrietta is our baby,” Elain protested. Lucien chuckled but did nothing to contradict her assertion.

“Alright Eris. What did Arina write?” Gwyn asked.

Eris had drawn a picture of what was clearly Arina in a crown. “My High Lady,” he crooned, his russet eyes filled with affection. Arina smiled, her card the same.

“It was a nice surprise,” she admitted.

“I can’t believe you two let Eris win,” Rhys chided Lucien and Elain, now sitting on the same side of the couch holding hands.

“You know, while all of you were fucking instead of getting to know each other, Arina and I spent vast amounts of time separated. We wrote letters,” Eris informed the room with just a touch of defense. Arina perched herself on the arm of the sofa Eris sat on, her hand resting on his shoulder. “I could tell you her whole routine since the moment she was bornuntil this morning.”

“I’d rather have done the fucking,” Cassian announced. Lucien choked on his whiskey as Rhys nodded in agreement. “We’ve got forever, I’m in no rush.”

“I’m boring, anyway,” Rhys added. Feyre elbowed him hard.

“This is not how I thought this was going to go,” Gwyn admitted. Azriel, his hands on her shoulders, was walking her to the half empty bottle of whiskey.

“At least we have alcohol to numb the pain,” Feyre joked. There were giggles in response.

At least they had each other.

#eluicen #eluicen prompt #some nessian #and a little feysand #the barest hint of gwynriel #no smut either #who have i become #i did think this was funny

76 notes · View notes

thefirstknife · 3 years

Text

Iron Lord Saladin Forge

Season of the Lost dropped some major lore about Saladin and I love every piece of it so I will make a huge post detailing stuff about and what's important.

The lore is on Iron Banner armour which you can see in-game when you go to the armour section. The lore is the same on each class so it doesn't matter which one you read. It's in the order of how armour is set, so helmet -> arm piece -> chest piece -> leg piece -> class item. There's some extras on Iron banner weapons that I'll add as well.

The rest under the cut due to length and also spoilers!

I'll link to the Hunter gear because I'm a dirty Hunter main and I read it from there and that's what I have open because I couldn't remember the names for other two classes, but the lore is the same on all of them. The set is called Iron Forerunner.

We haven't really had any substantial Saladin lore in D2 besides few lore pieces from Chosen and Splicer. Not nearly enough I think, especially since he wasn't properly introduced in D2 at all and it was kinda assumed that everyone would know about him from the Rise of Iron expansion in D1. He had plenty of voice lines, but with no real context. His voice lines in Season of the Chosen were interesting, but also made a lot of people think he's a bad person and a warmongering coward who sat on his butt during the Red War and was then preaching action for action's sake.

The situation is obviously more complex, but I've always said that it's Bungie fault for not explaining more about him prior to his involvement in the Season of the Chosen. Well, now we got some really interesting information at last!

Anyway, helmet first!

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We threw ourselves on the blades of tyranny so others may live free." —Lord Saladin

This is referencing the Iron Lords' fight against the Warlords in the Dark Age. Saladin is heavily influenced by his time in the Dark Age. It seems like some really old Guardians never get over the trauma of living through that (Drifter is another example). Side note: this could also be referencing the battle against SIVA since Rasputin is also known as "The Tyrant." It's not fully relevant tho, as Saladin was equally affected by both periods in his life.

This first entry details something we don't really think about when it comes to Guardians: death. It's a temporary thing with them so it doesn't really matter. But Saladin recounts how he remembers his deaths and how each one felt. Despite the fact that he will be brought back, the pain and struggle of dying are very real. There is also the associated trauma of the realisation that you will go through this over and over and over:

He laughed when his Ghost reassembled him. Then, he cried.

It's not something mentioned often, and definitely wasn't a point raised with Saladin. It gives some context to how seriously he takes combat, training and the lives of his fellow Guardians.

Saladin remembers the day he stopped counting deaths. "Something about you is different," Jolder had said, and put her hand on his.

This explains that his worldview of the role of Lightbearers changed the moment he was invited to become an Iron Lord. It's also important to remember that he loved Lady Jolder very much (in whichever way you want to interpret it) and that watching her make the choice to die a final death has had a heavy impact on him.

Saladin remembers all this and more when he looks at the Crow. He feels rage form a hot pit in his belly when Osiris tells him about the young Lightbearer's suffering at the hands of his fellow Guardians. Osiris asks him if he can keep a secret.

"I don't like secrets," Saladin says, and that's the end of it.

Saladin doesn't really say this during Chosen and his interactions with Crow, but it's evident from this that he cares deeply about the young Light who suffered in ways Saladin only remembers people suffering during the Dark Age. It's also important to note that the Osiris he speaks to here is Savathun. Saladin seems to be uniquely unaffected by Savathun's schemes. This will repeat itself again later.

Second, arms piece.

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We were forged in the fires of a burning world." —Lord Saladin

Same thing as before. Referencing the post-Collapse Dark Age. The lore tab details a really tragic story of the Iron Lords burying bodies, including the implication of Saladin burying the body of a child. He recalls that these people were victims of Fallen Raiders.

"It's a vicious circle," Efrideet had said as she tied off a funeral shroud with great care. Saladin remembers the bundle being very small. "One day, I'm going to break it."

Saladin remembers how easily the body fit in his arms, how light it felt as he laid it in the grave. He remembers, with shame, pretending not to hear Efrideet's words so he wouldn't need to respond to them.

He remembers not having anything kind to say.

He obviously regrets not having a stronger stance on this in the past. Where Efrideet seems to have always been keen on ending the cycle of violence, he clearly thought differently and is now ashamed of it. This transitions into more about his relation to Crow:

Saladin remembers all this and more whenever the Crow talks back to him. Sometimes, he bites down on the inside of his cheek. Sometimes, he looks up to find his Ghost focused on him with a knowing look.

He doesn't say anything to his Ghost either.

Because Crow was saying things that reminded him of Efrideet. Breaking the cycles of violence, extending a friendly hand, not treating everyone like an enemy. It's evident that this turmoil is still inside of him as someone who spent most of his time fighting for survival, only to be told by those younger than him that there's a way out of that war. It's a very common struggle of people dealing with trauma and specifically PTSD to not be able to imagine and/or live in a world of peace and to outright reject the possibility of peace ever existing. Saladin is very clearly dealing with that and here, we see it from his own POV: despite sometimes being harsh to Crow, there were times when he chose to say nothing because deep down he knows that Crow is right. Accepting that is a long process though.

Third, chest piece.

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We rose from the ashes of a dying world to save humanity from itself." —Lord Saladin

Same again, but this is an interesting way to phrase it. He's talking about humanity being a danger to itself, not about any external threat. Ultimately, the Traveler's gift was the first thing that harmed humanity post-Collapse, despite later being the thing that saved it.

This leads into Saladin's thoughts on the Red War, something we've been sorely missing for a very long time.

Saladin remembers losing his connection to the Light. He remembers thinking that the Traveler must have discovered his most secret doubts; the darkest thoughts he shared with no one—not even his Ghost. He remembers the strange sense of relief that had washed over him until his radio crackled to life just moments later.

His deepest secret? Probably that Light is a burden. When he lost the connection to the Light, he specifically thought it had only happened to him and then felt relief. Freedom from the eternal war he has to keep waging. I'm sure he feels incredible shame for thinking it would be better to just lose the Light and die a final death, but alas, he is bound by duty. Especially a Titan's duty.

He stands there thinking about it for a while before finally deciding to embrace that duty. And now we know what he was doing during the Red War:

"Saladin," his Ghost said again, and Saladin remembers moving. He remembers clutching his radio and rallying survivors—those strong enough to make the journey—to the Iron Temple.

It's been abbreviated as him "sitting out" the Red War because he didn't fight. Of course it was strange that the last remaining active Iron Lord did not show up to the City to fight alongside all the others, both Guardians and ordinary humans. That Lord Saladin, someone who endured so many hardships and fought so many battles since the Dark Age, hasn't come to help humanity in its time of greatest need.

But now this hits different. He didn't fight, yes. He couldn't. Losing the Light wasn't just something that made him scared (like all Lightbearers): it was something that made him scared of how he might actually enjoy dying a glorious final death. To end the trauma and the memories of all the horrors he's been through. So instead of throwing himself into a reckless death, he chose to stay in the Iron Temple and protect survivors.

So yeah, he didn't fight, but he did something equally important. The Iron Temple is an extremely well protected fortress that's very difficult to reach and breach, so any survivor he gathered was perfectly safe there until the Red War ended. Sometimes "sitting out" is more noble than fighting.

Saladin remembers all this and more whenever the Crow challenges him on his cowardice during the Red War. He wants to break the young Guardian's back to teach him a lesson about what it's like to feel helpless, but something stops him.

He remembers hearing stories about the Crow's life on the Shore before he arrived at the Tower, and does not raise a hand against him.

The lore entry ends with telling us that Saladin was clearly very agitated about Crow's teasing. But in the end, he remembered what Crow has been through and realised that Crow already knows what it's like to feel helpless. He did not need a reminder and Saladin decided to take the teasing without a response. It truly frames some of those voice lines in a different light, knowing this background.

Fourth, leg piece!

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We crossed a burning world with sword in hand, bringing justice and blood." —Lord Saladin

Once more, we are told that Saladin was mostly forged (eheh) through his experience in the Dark Age.

The lore page details a bittersweet memory Saladin has of him with his fellow Iron Lords and friends enjoying some good time over a meal and song.

He remembers Radegast asking him to sing the song taught to them by the people of the blacksmith's village, but agreeing only when Jolder and Perun promised to join in. Their voices rose like wolves in the night and were so raw by morning that none of them could speak.

This is honestly heartbreaking. Saladin being this happy and free to sing and enjoy himself: compared to how he is now. But even with that, he has retained the need to do it again sometimes, if he ever finds people to be comfortable around.

Saladin remembers all this and more when Zavala tells him Amanda has taken the Crow out to drink in the City's streets. He wonders what song they'll sing, if it's anything like the one he's heard everyone humming lately—even though he hasn't tried it himself.

I love how he projects his past joy onto the two young people and wonders if they'll do the same as he did once. Here we also get another hint about Saladin apparently not being affected by Savathun's viral chant. It might be a point relevant in the future.

Finally, class item!

Flavour text:

"Some know the legend. We crushed the Warlords beneath our heel so that they may never rise again." —Lord Saladin

Nothing new here. Just Saladin recounting how hard they went against the Warlords.

The rest is a very poignant lore page that details the relationship between Saladin and Zavala. Zavala studied under Saladin who was his mentor and it's been repeated often that Saladin has retained a "soft spot" for him.

Saladin remembers the first time he met Zavala. He remembers thinking that the Awoken had regal bearing like the stags he once hunted on the Steppes. His shoulders were broad, and his chin held high. When he moved, he did so with the strength and purposeful deliberation of someone with the power to determine his own place in the world.

"You'll never have a son," his Ghost had said, "but it isn't too late for you to take an apprentice."

I love when non-Awoken describe Awoken, there's always something ethereal about it. But I'm mostly putting this part here because of what Saladin's Ghost says.

First, I am incredibly soft for older Guardians adopting younger ones as kids and teaching them. Easily my favourite dynamic ever. Saladin seeing Zavala as a son makes me cry a thousand tears.

And second, is this finally a full confirmation that Guardians cannot bear children? It's kind of a strange place to put it, but it seems to be the implication. It makes sense they wouldn't be able to, but it's also nice to have some direct lore information about it in case it pops up as a question. I'm sorry if this ruins anyone's fics.

Saladin remembers their sparring matches. He remembers how Zavala always got back on his feet, no matter how many times Saladin put him down. He remembers refusing to offer the younger Lightbearer a hand up. Until the day Zavala finally bested him in combat.

He remembers lying flat on his back, left shoulder dislocated and ribs shattered, a strange pressure on his chest that made it difficult to breathe.

"Finish it," Saladin had commanded because that was the way of things. His Ghost would revive him.

Saying nothing, Zavala hauled him to his feet instead.

I love how this is placed at the end, paralleling the beginning of Saladin remembering his deaths and the pain of dying. But instead of "finishing it," Zavala pulls him back up. It's definitely something Saladin hasn't experienced before, especially not before becoming an Iron Lord, when all of his deaths were just gruesome ends to a struggle. Then seconds after, he'd be back up. He took the revival for granted, until Zavala offered him the alternative. Again, an interesting perspective about something we don't usually think about much. I do wonder how Saladin healed afterwards though.

Saladin remembers all this and more when his former apprentice calls him into his office and tells him about the face behind the Crow's mask. Zavala says he knows that Saladin doesn't like secrets; that it's unfair to ask him to keep one of this magnitude, but there will come a time when the Crow needs someone—the way Zavala needed Saladin.

"You never needed anyone," Saladin insists.

Zavala only smiles.

This page ends with the two bonding again. Despite their differences and disagreements, there's mutual respect between the mentor and the apprentice. The father and the son.

And Saladin thinks Zavala never needed him, but that is obviously not true and Zavala tells him so. He also tells him that Crow, and implied Guardians like him, will need the same guidance.

It gives us a full circle back to Saladin's musings about his purpose as a Guardian and Lightbearer. He may have doubted his place in the world before, but seeing as he's still here with us and actively participating and helping; training us through Iron Banner, helping with the Eliksni, refusing to side against the Vanguard despite the difference in opinion, now serving as Zavala's ambassador for the Cabal and easily bonding with someone he would've considered an enemy not long ago...

I think Saladin knows his place. He's one of the strongest Lightbearers and most principled among them. He is not swayed by lies and deceptions, he does not abide by them and speaks plainly. He has deeply rooted beliefs in justice and he will not compromise himself, even if it means conceding his position to make peace with a former enemy when that enemy proves their worth, honesty and good intentions to him.

He is a Guardian.

He is an Iron Lord.

#destiny 2 #lord saladin #lore vibing #long post #more iron lord lore bungie please?#iron temple as a social space?#please?#anyway i love this new lore about him so much #i wish we had it before people formed some crude opinions about him #but hopefully this can retroactively clear certain things up

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goldenavenger02 · 3 years

Text

Pillow Fights and Long Nights

5 Times Kai was in the hospital for Lloyd, 1 time Lloyd should have been in the hospital, and 1 time Lloyd was in the hospital for Kai.

Dedicated to @rosiehunterwolf

•••

'I should've been watching him.' Kai thought to himself as they all stood in the waiting room of Ninjago City hospital. Since there were multiple doctors in Ignacia, he and Nya had never needed to be here.

However, hearing Jay's horror stories about multiple failed inventions landing him in here for days at a time, or hearing about Cole's failed dancing resulting in at least two different injuries, not to mention the Triple Tiger Sashay incident, was definitely not calming his nerves.

He shouldn't have left Lloyd alone with the training equipment he didn't know how to use, when there had been multiple other people who could've been checking where they were while waiting on a Serpentine sighting.

When he had been forced out of the Bridge because of Jay screaming, saying that Lloyd was bleeding on the deck, Kai had only ever felt that sinking feeling in his stomach twice before.

When Nya was taken by Garmadon, and when Lloyd nearly sank into the lava inside of the Fire Temple.

Which led to where they were now. The hailed "protectors of Ninjago" leaning against chairs and the wall of the hospital, staring at the door that Sensei, Lord Garmadon and Lloyd had disappeared behind, and pretending that they were not there at all in order to keep their heart rates from getting out of control.

"-which is why I stopped trying to climb the piles of junk." Jay's voice rang back in his head, snapping him out of his thoughts and he could feel fire against his hand.

"Kai, calm down," Nya's voice perked up, gently setting her hand on his arm, and Kai allowed himself to take a deep breath, the fire extinguishing from his hand, "I know you're upset, but if you burn down the hospital, you're going to be in a lot of trouble. This is probably a place we don't need to get banned from."

"Yeah, I'm just worried. He's been in there for over an hour and we haven't heard anything," Kai explained, letting his eyes flutter closed with worry, "I shouldn't have left him alone."

"You didn't know he would get hurt," Cole explained, putting his hand on his other shoulder, "you can't put that on yourself."

"But I knew that he was still getting the hang of the training equipment, and I knew that you guys were standing by and waiting for the Serpentine sighting." Kai argued, but Zane just shook his head before speaking up.

"We've gotten hurt multiple times using that equipment, and it wasn't this bad. You were probably just expecting a bump or bruise at the most, even if it was more so an instinct than an actual thought."

"Yeah, no one blames you, dude." Jay added, putting his hand against Kai's back when finally, the door opened and Sensei came out.

"He's going to be alright," he assured before any of them could say a word, and Kai couldn't keep his sigh of relief in, "He has a concussion, and he has to stay overnight so he can be monitored, but he's going to be just fine."

"Can we see him?" Kai asked, and had to swallow when Sensei shook his head "no", because while he knew Garmadon wouldn't hurt Lloyd after they just got him back, he still felt uneasy with him being around Lloyd by himself.

"He's sleeping now, and his father is with him. We'll come back in a few hours, but we still have to stay vigilant and make sure that Pythor doesn't get the last Fangblade."

"Yes, Sensei." All six of them groaned and made their way back to the Bounty, and Kai had to force his feet to go and avoid disrespecting Sensei yet again, no matter how tempting it was.

"Well, the good news is that Cole's going to throw out expired spices now." Kai joked, sitting on the edge of Lloyd's hospital bed, phone in hand as he updated Nya on Lloyd's condition.

Due to a flu going around, only one person was allowed to visit at a time, and Sensei had decided that Kai should stay with him while he went to stock up on healing teas for this exact scenario in the future.

"Not funny, dude," Lloyd groaned, curling up on his side, "my stomach still feels like it's going to explode."

"I think it already did." Kai chuckled, immediately regretting it when he saw the look of pure misery on Lloyd's face, which had him shoving his phone in his pocket before looking right at him, "sorry, I'll stop. Can I get you another ginger ale?"

"I'm just going to throw it up," Lloyd sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before turning on the TV.

Unfortunately, they were immediately greeted by Gayle Gossip talking about how Garmadon had seemingly gone missing, which Kai reached over and turned off, seeing Lloyd put his head in his hands, "on second thought, I'd rather throw up."

Kai couldn't help but smile sympathetically at him, gently squeezing his hand. "You've got us, Lloyd," that's when an idea popped into his head, "let me text Zane, see if we can figure out a way to smuggle some of his chicken noodle soup in here."

"Don't let him use the expired spices," Lloyd groaned as Kai pulled out his phone again.

"It'd probably taste better than the food in here." Kai teased with a smile, receiving a glare from Lloyd; and in hindsight, the pillow he received to the face from Lloyd was most likely well deserved.

"Just a sprained wrist, Kai," the doctor smiled softly as they wrapped bandages around the cut that covered his left arm, "you're very lucky."

Kai nodded, although he wasn't focused on the pain in his wrist, and more so on the fact that they maybe had two minutes of peace before Lloyd had passed out against him due to the absolute exhaustion from the final battle.

And while he knew that he had his uncle and parents, he couldn't stop the worry from clawing at his heart as the moment replayed in his head.

•••

"There's no way of knowing what's around the corner, but as long as there's something worth fighting for, there's always a need for a ninja. And we'll be ready." Kai insisted to Sensei, watching as his team approached him.

He couldn't keep the grin off his face as they looked to the brightness, one hand on Sensei's back and the other on Lloyd's shoulder. 'Little Lloyd Garmadon saved the day.'

However, just when they looked away from the sun, and the others started to spread out, that's when Kai noticed just how pale Lloyd was, even with a smile on his face. "Lloyd? You okay?" He asked softly, nudging his shoulder.

"My leg hurts…" Lloyd mumbled, his words slurring slightly, but before Kai could alert the others, Lloyd was already unconscious and slumped against his chest.

"Sensei!" He called out, gently maneuvering Lloyd so he was on his back, watching as the others ran back towards him, "Sensei, a little help!"

•••

Kai made his way to the waiting room with instructions to avoid using his left wrist, and kept back the disappointment when he didn't see Lloyd, but he couldn't hold back his relief to see Nya and immediately engulfed her in a hug which she returned just as tightly. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"I'm glad you're okay," she smiled before pulling away, glancing down at his arm before looking back at him, "well, mostly."

Kai couldn't ignore the bandage against her cheek, and when he looked back at his other teammates, it seemed as though Zane and his father were the only ones unscathed.

Cole was absolutely littered in bruises nearly everywhere that there was bare skin, both of Nya's eyes had bruises around them along with scratches that covered both of her arms, and he could tell that Jay's ribs were at least bruised by the way he was breathing, not to mention the stitches that were peeking out from the neckline of his gi.

"How's Lloyd?" Kai asked softly, unable to stop holding onto his sister, watching as her face switched from a smile to a soft frown. 'That was never good.'

"He's absolutely drained, not to mention his ankle was nearly shattered. The doctors think that it was the adrenaline that kept him from feeling it. They're not letting anyone who isn't family see him until after they do surgery on it."

"They don't have the right to call us anything other than his family." Kai scowled, pushing past Nya as his chest burned, determined to find Lloyd even if he burned the whole hospital down around them.

Luckily for the staff, Lloyd's room was easy to find and Kai immediately walked in, resulting in the turn of Sensei, Misako and Garmadon's heads.

"Kai, calm down." Sensei insisted firmly, holding a hand out towards Kai but he couldn't stop him from going to Lloyd, which forced him to swallow.

His skin was the palest he had ever seen, even compared to when he had gotten food poisoning a few months back, his ankle was wrapped up, but Kai could still see the bruises stretch up his leg, and his under eyes were dark, like he hadn't slept in weeks.

"Kai, it might be best for you to wait with the others." Sensei suggested softly, putting his hands on his shoulders, but he shook him off and grabbed Lloyd's hand instead.

"I made a promise to protect the green ninja, to fight beside him; with all due respect, Sensei, I can't do that in a waiting room. And if any of you try to make the argument that I'm not family, I'm going to fight you tooth and nail," Kai stopped for a moment to look at Lloyd's sunken face before turning back to his three parental figures, "Lloyd's my brother, just as much as Nya is my sister. I'm not leaving him."

To Kai's surprise, Garmadon was actually the one who approached him and set his hand on his shoulder before he spoke, "no one is going to kick you out, Kai. And if they try, they'll have to go through me."

Kai nodded, and despite the fact he was no longer evil, he was still a little shocked that he was agreeing with Garmadon.

But at the same time, as he held Lloyd's hand in his, he had never been happier to have him on his side.

"I can't believe how awesome your powers are, Nya." Jay admired, resulting in a smile from Nya, which Kai watched from afar.

He knew that Nya viewed them as friends, but with the way Jay looked at her, he had a flicker of something telling him that they would get together again someday

"I can't believe that I'm still being put on the pediatric ward," Lloyd mumbled, throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at the trash can, "I'm one of Ninjago's protectors and I'm still being treated like a kid."

That brought Kai back to the present as all five of them had crammed themselves into Lloyd's hospital room after the events of what had happened in Stiix.

After all, nearly losing Lloyd to Morro was nerve wracking for all of them, and after the events of the battle against the preeminent, Lloyd had all but passed out on the way back to Ninjago City due to being sleep deprived and malnourished.

"In their defense, Lloyd, you are under the age of eighteen, which means unless there were special circumstances, you are required to be put with other minors." Zane supplied, which only received a sarcastic response from Lloyd.

"Thanks, Zane. Real helpful." And with that, he threw another piece of paper at the trash can.

Kai shot a glance towards Cole, silently telling him that he needed to talk to Lloyd alone and hoped that he got the newly turned ghost's attention, even though they were all still coming to terms with the change.

Luckily, Cole was still Cole, and got the message loud and clear before turning to the others; "Hey, let's go check out the cafeteria, see if we can find anything worth smuggling up here to Lloyd."

After Zane, Jay, Nya and Cole left, and Kai could no longer hear Jay's questions about if Cole even needed to eat anymore, he turned to Lloyd and sat next to him on the bed, taking in Lloyd's condition.

His under eyes were very dark, his skin was way too pale and Kai could see just how much muscle mass Lloyd had lost, and how he seemed like a shell of the lively kid who loved candy and pranking his brothers.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kai asked softly, gently squeezing Lloyd's right shoulder since his hand had an IV in it that was currently pumping him full of fluids and electrolytes.

"My dad...is really gone," Lloyd stopped to wipe the tears that started running down with his left arm, even though more followed immediately after, "I-I don't know what to do anymore."

Kai didn't stop himself from pulling him into a hug, feeling the warm tears leak through his gi as Lloyd gripped onto him tighter. "I've got you, Lloyd," he felt the tears against his cheek while squeezing his brother tighter, "You've still got me."

Kai couldn't keep his foot from tapping on the ground as he waited for Lloyd and Misako to get to the waiting room.

After Cole had become human once again, and Morro had disappeared, the majority of the group got to work on emptying out the Airjitzu temple, except for Kai, Misako and Lloyd.

When he saw the fact that Lloyd had a massive cut running from his left cheek to his jawline, and heard that Misako was taking Lloyd to the hospital despite his protests that "he'd have the coolest battle scar", Kai had offered to drive them to the hospital.

The only thing he knew about their Day of the Departed was from the hushed whispers that they had shared on the drive, which had the key words like "Pythor" and "my father", so he knew it was just as bad as what he and Nya had gone through with Chen, if not way worse.

The hospital was nearly empty, so his foot was tapping on the floor and he had his phone open to social media, trying to keep himself from losing his mind.

"Mom, I'm fine." He heard Lloyd insist as two sets of footsteps approached him, and he put his phone in his pocket, smiling when he saw the two of them, the younger of the two sporting a giant bandage against the left side of his face, which Lloyd seemed to take offense to as he snapped, "don't even start making jokes, Kai."

"Hey, hey, relax, Green Machine, I'm smiling cause you're okay," Kai insisted, wrapping his arm around Lloyd's shoulder as they made their way to the car before whispering, "if you need to talk to someone besides your mom, I'm here for you, okay?"

"I don't need to talk, but…" Lloyd trailed off, glancing at his mom before returning eye contact with Kai, "it'd be nice if I wasn't alone tonight."

"We'll figure it out, kid," Kai smiled, shuddering as they were met with the freezing air, feeling Lloyd get closer to him, "I swear."

5.5

"How could Lloyd be so...so stupid?!" Kai shouted, his hands going to his hair in anger, "he should've waited for us to come up with a plan!"

"You know that you did this once too, right Kai?" Cole piped up, and Kai couldn't respond with anything but a glare, because he was right.

Kai himself had fought Garmadon without a plan and even locked his team out of the room, but he thought that the golden weapons were being stolen, as for Lloyd…

Well, now that he thought about it, Lloyd had good reasoning as well; he wanted to bring his father, all of his father, back, and with how many nights he had fallen asleep in his arms, eyes full of grief, Kai couldn't even blame him.

He let out a frustrated sigh, the worry striking his heart like a loaded cannon that had just gotten new ammunition. 'I can't lose Lloyd, not now. Not after everything.'

Kai felt a cool, soft hand against his shoulder, and he didn't stop himself from clinging onto Zane while starting to chew on his lip, feeling his teeth start to make small indents against his skin.

"That's him!" PIXAL's voice rang in Kai's head as the Bounty slowed to a stop, Jay, Cole and Nya immediately rushing out, but Zane continued to hold onto Kai.

"Let me go!," Kai shouted, his vision going red as anger burned in his chest as he started to fight against Zane's hold, "I need to see Lloyd!"

"It would be unwise for you to see Lloyd until he's back on the Bounty, as we are trying to get out of here as soon as possible," Zane explained, the tight hold still feeling gentle against his shoulder, "they'll bring him aboard soon."

"Nya, how is he?" PIXAL asked over the comms, bringing Kai's attention to them as he focused in on his little sister's voice.

"We need the gurney, he's… He's in really bad shape," she explained, a sniffle cutting her off before she continued, "Kai, Zane, be ready to take him to control; it's still set up from where we fixed Zane."

"We're on it." Kai insisted, his heart beating so loud that he could hear it as he and Zane sprinted outside as the gurney was lifted on deck while the others climbed the ropes; Kai couldn't keep his gasp in when Lloyd's face hit the light.

His nose was definitely broken, both of his eyes were black, and the rest of his face was covered in scratches and bruises; he didn't even want to know what was under Lloyd's gi.

As he and Zane lifted Lloyd, the hot skin against their hands, he let out a groan that made Kai wince. 'Lloyd is the level headed one, he doesn't do this. He doesn't run off into danger.'

But as the two of them laid Lloyd down, Kai swallowed harshly, because Lloyd had in fact run into danger before...for his family.

As the others ran into the room, minus Nya who was calling Misako, and started to patch up Lloyd's injuries as best as they could, Kai couldn't help from speaking up. "He needs to be in the hospital. He's way too hot, and way too injured."

"Where would we even go? Harumi and the Sons of Garmadon are patrolling the city like crazy, we'll be lucky to even make it in, let alone get him inside of the hospital." Cole explained, gently wiping the sand off of Lloyd's face.

Kai relented; he knew Cole was right, there was no way to get him professional medical treatment, and he just had to hope that Misako had some idea of where to take him, cause he also knew that there was no way that Lloyd was going to live if they only used their limited medical knowledge and supplies.

Lloyd's wheeze was what brought Kai out of his thoughts and he instantly wrapped both of his hands around his left one before whispering in Lloyd's ear.

"It's going to be okay, we're going to save you. Just focusing on staying alive."

He had pushed himself too far.

As Kai sat in his room in the burn unit, looking at his fully bandaged arms and wrists, he knew that. He also knew that he was extremely grateful for the pain medication that kept him from feeling both the burns and the frost bite.

"So this is what the normal ward looks like." Lloyd remarked as he got up from the chair and sat on the end of Kai's bed with a smile.

"Yeah, not as many fun decorations, squirt," Kai joked before going serious, "I don't wanna see you in here unless you're visiting someone else, you got that?"

"Unfortunately for me, being the "prophesied green ninja" doesn't give me that luxury," Lloyd lamented before glaring at Kai, "and don't call me squirt, I'm finally gaining up on you."

"You could be six four and I'd still call you squirt, it's my job as an older brother, ask Nya. As for staying out of the hospital, you're supposed to humor me, chosen one," Kai snorted, receiving a pillow to the face, "hey, I can't retaliate!"

"I'd prefer being a kid over being the chosen one and you know it." Lloyd explained, glaring daggers at Kai, to which he raised his hands in surrender before asking.

"Alright, I'll stop. Where are the others? They usually don't let you walk around unsupervised."

"PIXAL and Zane are on a date, Nya insisted that they hang out together after we got back from the Never Realm; Jay and Nya are working on some upgrades to the Bounty, and Cole and my uncle went shopping, something about chicken feed," Lloyd explained before smiling at Kai, "besides, I'm not unsupervised, I'm hanging out with you."

Kai couldn't keep the smile from spreading across his face as he managed to sit up and ruffle up Lloyd's hair, even though it was immediately followed by a rush of searing hot pain from the movement.

"Alright, hot head," Lloyd laughed, gently pushing Kai back against the pillows, "leave my hair alone and get some rest; for once, let me take care of you."

"Pretty sure that's illegal." Kai retorted, immediately being smacked with another pillow, although not as hard as the first one, "can you stop doing that?"

'You better think of a creative threat against him.' He thought to himself.

"What're you going to do about it?" Lloyd challenged, picking up a third pillow, which led Kai to smirk before putting on his best pouting face.

"I'm going to tell Nya that you were being really mean to me when I'm injured and weak, and have her deal with you accordingly."

Whatever punishment Lloyd had thought of Nya giving him was enough for him to drop the pillow immediately with a look of terror on his face, and Kai couldn't even blame him; Nya was never a force to be reckoned with, whether you were an enemy or family.

The room went silent for a few minutes after that, until Lloyd sniffled, which made Kai's ears perk up as he sat up again, wrapping his upper arm around Lloyd's shoulder so his wrist and hand wasn't touching anything, "hey, hey, what's wrong? If it's about throwing pillows, I-"

"No, not that…," Lloyd's voice shook before he turned slightly and hugged Kai around the stomach tightly, nearly knocking the wind out of him, "I can't lose anyone else. Not anymore. I almost lost you and Zane, and I… Not again."

Kai pulled Lloyd towards him closer so he could cry against his shoulder, despite the fact that it sent the same searing pain through his body again, "I've got you, Lloyd. You're going to have a really tough time getting rid of me, you know that."

After a few moments, Lloyd emerged from his shoulder, now glaring at him again, and Kai knew exactly why this time; might not be best to joke about loss to the kid who had been abandoned by his mom and lost his dad twice now.

"Yeah, throw the pillow at my head, I deserve that this time."

Kai didn't expect the hit to be so hard that his head almost spun all the way around, but seeing the smirk on Lloyd's face made all the neck and jaw pain worth it.

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thephantomessoftheopera · 3 years

Text

Notes on Gaston Leroux‘s „The Phantom of the Opera“ - Chapter 27: „End of the Ghost‘s Love Story“

Artwork by @flaviamarquesart

<< Previous chapter

“End of the Ghost’s Love Story” is the most powerful chapter in the novel, because it reveals the full extent of Erik’s love for Christine. It is also the one that makes the story truly extraordinary, because it redeems his character and lifts him above the level of a gothic villain, who is usually defeated and punished in the end. This is why he is generally considered a “Byronic Hero” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byronic_hero). The Byronic hero is a complex, often tragic form of romantic anti-hero who is generally more villain than traditional hero, but who has at least one redeeming quality (usually connected to love) which makes him a sympathetic figure despite his flaws and/or crimes. The character type was created by the English poet Lord Byron in his works such as “The Corsair” and “Don Juan”, and became extremely popular in the 19th century. Except for his looks, Erik fits that classic character type in almost all other aspects (highly intelligent, tortured, violent, ruthless, manipulative and driven by an all-consuming passion).

The chapter’s title also makes it clear that the whole thing is a love story at its core - everything in the novel happened because Erik fell in love with Christine. It is, and has always been, the story of Erik’s love - he is the one character we follow up until the end.

The final chapter is narrated by Leroux again, but it draws on what the Persian supposedly told him when he went to visit him in his flat in the rue de Rivoli. When the Persian wakes up after losing consciousness in the water, he and Raoul are resting in the Louis-Philippe room, and Erik and Christine are taking care of them. Raoul has already woken up before the Persian, and is now asleep again.

The room itself astounds the Persian in how ordinary and old-fashioned it looks, and how much it contrasts with Erik’s general appearance (remember that the Persian had never been in Erik’s house before). Erik explains to him that the furniture once belonged to his mother, which explains why the style is so different from his bedroom, which is decidedly more „Erik“. The Persian also wonders why Christine, who is moving silently through the room and then sitting down beside the fireplace, ignores both Raoul and himself when tries to call her. The Persian believes that Christine is reading “The Imitation of Christ”, which is significant and which I will come back to a little later. The “opposites” theme is also present in this scene again, describing Erik’s figure as black and a demon, and Christine’s as white and an angel. The Persian finally falls asleep again.

When he wakes for the second time, Erik has already delivered him back to his flat according to the promise he made to “his wife”. The Persian immediately sends to find out what happened to Raoul, and learns that Raoul has disappeared and that Philippe’s body has been found on the shore of the lake under the opera house. The Persian has no doubt that Philippe was drowned by Erik (or “the siren”), and decides to denounce him to the police. However, his testimony is ridiculed, and he - like Raoul - is taken for a lunatic. The Persian then decides to write everything down and later hands his manuscript to Leroux (which is what we’ve been reading in these last chapters).

When he has finished writing his account down, Erik comes to visit him. He is clearly unwell and described as weak, leaning against the wall and “pale as a sheet”. The Persian accuses him of murdering Philippe and wants to know what happened to Raoul and Christine, whether they are dead or alive. Erik denies murdering Philippe, but the Persian doesn’t believe him. We don’t really know the truth though, so the “murder mystery” has no definite resolution and turns into more of a side note.

Erik tells the Persian that he is about to “die of love” for Christine. As I’ve mentioned before, I believe that the most likely physical cause of his death would really be the gunshot that Raoul fired at him, and a possible infection following that injury which would lead to his precarious state of health as seen in this chapter. This could metaphorically also be described as “dying of love” (because he wouldn’t have caught that bullet if he hadn’t been in love).

After turning the scorpion, Christine begged him to save Raoul, and she had already offered before to accept his proposal if he gave her the key to the torture chamber, but Erik did not care then, because he did not believe her. But when she swears to him that she will become his “living wife”, it‘s different as he finally sees in her eyes what he has been hoping to see - Christine’s genuine commitment. She means to go through with her promise and is accepting him as her husband at that moment - and this is why her commitment is powerful enough to break through to him.

According to their agreement, Erik takes the Persian aboveground, but since Raoul probably wouldn’t agree to leave, Erik drugs him and locks him up in the dungeon beneath the fifth cellar. Then he returns to Christine, who stands calmly waiting for him. Erik suddenly feels “shyer than a little child” as he approaches Christine, but she does not back away from him. He tenderly kisses her forehead and is overwhelmed with how good it feels to kiss her, as no woman has ever allowed him to, not even his mother. Christine even leans into his touch a little, and remains close to him after the kiss, „as if it were perfectly natural“.

Fear and disgust are very powerful, primal emotions, but Christine‘s feelings for Erik are strong enough to overcome both. Considering that no one, not even the Persian, was able to even look at Erik’s face without horror, I feel that Christine must have cared very deeply for him, as she allows his kiss without fear and without recoiling from him at all, even after everything he has put her through.

He falls at her feet and starts crying of happiness, and seeing his tears, Christine starts to cry as well. Erik tears off his mask so that he won’t lose any of her tears on his skin, and still Christine shows no sign of horror or disgust. And she doesn’t only allow him to touch her, but she also touches him of her own free will and takes his hand, saying “poor, unhappy Erik”. I feel that this is the moment when the full expanse of his life’s tragedy truly hits her. She is not only the first woman, but the first person in his entire life to treat him with tenderness and acceptance.

Gratitude and love for her overwhelm him and make him realize that he has forced her choice. He puts the gold wedding ring into her hand, setting her free and telling her that he knows she loves Raoul and that she is free to go and marry him whenever she pleases. He „calmly cuts his heart to pieces“ and puts her happiness before his own in this final expression of true love and sacrifice. For as damaged as he was, the ending proves that Erik truly loved Christine because his love is ultimately selfless. There is also no bitterness in his feelings towards Christine after she leaves - he has always loved her, and still continues to love her. He still feels protective of her: “I’d better not hear that anyone has touched a single hair on her head!” Christine gave him “all the happiness in the world”, and he is grateful to her for this gift. His love for her redeems him as a character and proves to be his moral compass - before, he considered himself “outside the human race” and therefore not bound by common moral values.

In the previous chapter, Christine is shown reading what the Persian believes to be “The Imitation of Christ”. I don’t think that is a coincidence, and I also believe that the name “Christine” was perhaps even chosen for her on purpose (she was originally named Pauline, according to Leroux’s manuscript). Christine becomes a “Christ figure” here in two ways: through her sacrifice, she saves the lives of Raoul, the Persian and everyone in the Opera. But she also offers acceptance and love to a sinner, an outcast who has been shunned by society - and this is an extremely powerful gesture. She possessed the strength necessary to see Erik as a human being, and that is what sets her apart from everyone else. Her love here transcends the realm of romantic love and becomes almost divine - all-encompassing, forgiving, healing.

Christine may superficially fit the traditional image of a “damsel in distress”, but the would-be hero who was coming to rescue her didn’t get very far, nor could he do anything to save her. The only hero who saved Christine was Christine herself - and she also saved everyone else: Raoul, the Persian, everyone in the Opera, and Erik. Both Christine and Erik show incredible bravery in this chapter: Christine‘s bravery shows in her truly accepting Erik as a man and in saving Raoul, and Erik‘s bravery consists in letting her go, relinquishing his one chance in his life of having everything he has ever dreamed of.

Erik then goes to free Raoul and brings him to Christine, where Raoul and Christine kiss. Christine swears to Erik that she will come back to bury him with the ring, and then she finally kisses him before they leave.

Seeing Erik weeping and overcome with emotion, the Persian no longer doubts him. Erik tells the Persian that when he feels he is close to dying, he will send the letters that Christine had left with him and a few of her personal objects to him, and that this would be the cue for the Persian to put an obituary notice in the newspaper so that Christine and Raoul would know. Interestingly, that entire arrangement hinged on Erik himself announcing his death without anyone confirming it, because he could only mail things to the Persian if he was still alive. This leaves a lot of blank space for the reader’s imagination, because who knows if he really died…? The Persian, at least, never saw him again, but announced three weeks later that “Erik is dead”.

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