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#possibly the majority if I count it right
theslushiestnoob · 2 days
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you should do an enemy’s to lovers (maybe slow burn? idk) with hamzah!
THE BOY NEXT DOOR - *:・゚✧*: -
The first instalment in (potentially!) a new fanfic series where you’re Hamzah’s neighbour, inspired by this request (thank you!) 💕
Word count: 1.1k
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I got out of my car, my legs aching from sitting for so long. Chill air whipped across my face as I looked up at my new apartment building, ivy creeping across its faded brickwork and warm light spilling from the windows. A smile crept across my face as I turned to the boot of the car, unloading some of the boxes into my arms.
I ascended the stairs, stopping on the fourth floor in front of the blue door. I balanced my boxes on my thigh, fumbling to shove the keys into the door. Swinging open with a click, the door granted me entrance into my new flat. I walked through the threshold, placing the boxes on the floor and stretching my cramping arms. Wandering through the empty rooms, I was unable to contain my joy and excitement. Every bare wall, every vacant corner, I can fill this place with my favourite colours and patterns until it truly feels like mine.
This city would always be my home. I loved everything about Toronto, and ever since I was a child I knew that I was destined to be there. Moving into my first home away from my parents was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating - a whole world of freedom and possibilities opened before me, but a whole bunch of responsibility and duty descended on my shoulders.
*
I unpacked the majority of my things before it started. The shouting.
Through my thin wall, I could hear a low voice occasionally shriek and howl with laughter. At first, it wasn’t too disruptive - I could drown it out with my music - but it rose to an infuriating volume. Who has the audacity to be so loud in a block of flats? As over an hour passed, such a long time that my body was tense with agitation, I decided to do something about it. I had to be brave and assertive, and let this impolite neighbour know that I wouldn’t put up with this. It was late evening, and if I wasn’t so preoccupied with unpacking my things I would almost certainly be in bed right now - I couldn’t have this shouting interrupting my sleep.
I threw open my front door, a half-unpacked box of clothes held at my hip as I stormed across the hall and knocked on the door. This close up, the shouts were even louder. I waited, placing the box at my feet to knock again, when the door swung open.
A man stood in the doorway, wearing a grey hoodie and headphones around his neck like a scarf. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me, clearly confused at my presence at his door - my agitated expression perplexing him further.
His eyes roved down my body, lingering on the fabric of my tank top stretched across my chest and the inch of skin showing above the waistband of my low joggers. I glared at him, folding my arms across my chest in frustration. This seemed to break him from his thoughts, his gaze returning to my face.
‘Uhh… can I help you?’ He asks, his hand lingering on the doorframe.
‘Yes, you can quiet down a bit.’
He looks slightly taken aback by my bluntness, but after a full day of travelling and unpacking I was not in the mood for kindness. His warm brown eyes widen, his long eyelashes fluttering as he pauses for a moment.
‘Sure, I’m sorry,’ He pauses and looks across the hall to my opened door, cardboard boxes littered across the visible patch of the floor. ‘Have you just moved in?’
‘Yep.’ I say humorlessly, satisfied with his apology and having no desire to continue the conversation.
I bend down to pick up the box, resting it on my hip. As I turn to return to my door, the bottom of the box explodes open, its contents tumbling onto the stranger’s doorstep.
I curse under my breath as I bend to gather my things, bundling the heaps of rumpled clothing into my arms.
Laughter bursts above me, muffled from a hand but obviously mocking.
I stand and rest my hands on my hips, staring intently into his amused expression.
‘Are you laughing at me?’
‘I mean, that was hilarious.’ He cocks his head as he smiles at me, his eyebrows furrowed as if his statement was blatantly obvious.
‘You’re a dick.’ I march to my door, kicking it open with my foot and slamming it behind me.
*
Finally finished unpacking and organising, I lay down on my bed. Exhaustion creeps over me, and I close my weary eyes in blissful rest. I listen to the noise of the city; cars whirring past, distant sirens, faint music spilling out from a nearby restaurant. Some may say it's unsettling, but to me, it has always been home. There’s no better way to spend a day than wandering the metropolis of the city, appreciating its urban beauty.
As I begin to fall asleep, there is a knock at my door. I groan, hoisting myself to my feet and padding toward the entrance.
I pull the door open, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the fluorescent hallway light.
Standing in my doorway is the stranger next door, his face half cast in shadow.
‘Oh, it’s you.’ I mumble, cocking my head in annoyance.
This seemed to amuse him, a small smile creeping onto his face as he narrowed his eyes. In this light, he is undeniably handsome - his wide eyes shining with the low lustre of the evening, his full heart-shaped lips curved into a faint smile. Loose brown curls escaped from his cap, framing his angular face in a halo of hair. This only fuelled my anger, though - such an agitating person shouldn’t deserve to be so pretty.
‘You left something at my place,’ He says amusedly, holding his hand out to reveal a yellow mini dress, obscenely low cut, that I had admittedly never worn due to the lack of occasion and self-confidence. I snatch it out of his hands, piercing him with my accusatory stare.
‘So you’re a thief now, too?’ I ask.
He holds his hands up in defence, his smile widening.
‘Hey, it must’ve fallen into my place when your box erupted everywhere.’
I roll my eyes at him, turning the dress over in my hands.
‘I bet you look really good in that,’ He adds with a smirk.
‘Goodbye,’ I said definitively, closing the door on him. Before it can click shut, his palm slaps against it, holding it ajar.
‘I’m Hamzah, by the way,’
‘Nice to meet you,’ I say sarcastically, eliciting a humoured smile from him.
‘And you are?’ He prompts.
I sigh, resting a palm against my forehead.
‘If I tell you, will you leave me alone?’
‘Indefinitely.’ He says with a curt nod.
I tell him my name, which he repeats as if tasting it on his tongue.
‘Hm. See you around, y/n,’ He says, pulling the door shut as he turns away from my flat.
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Thank you for reading!
Please let me know if you enjoyed / would like me to continue this fic 😝
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f4iry-bell · 3 days
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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 𝟏
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pairing: popula!jameson hawthorne x nerd/goodgirl!reader
summary: who would have guessed taking an unwanted picture of her could lead to that tense moment? more than that, who would have thought it would get his attention to make a deal? and guys like him drain a person inside out when are interested in you.
warning: jamie being a slight jerk, very little. little over the top reader(?)
series taglist: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77 @lyra-kane @bewitchingkisses @zenikswaffleshop @off-to-the-r4ces @jamcarven (lmk if you want to be added!)
a/n: IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS WHOLE THING, YAY. a lot of jerk jamie in this fuc guys. sorry;(
word count: 1.5k
masterlist | series master list
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“Did you just take a picture of me?” The tone and how sharp it was so surprising to the two boys to her side, one with the camera, and one with a stupid smile.
“Maybe.” The boy who was holding the camera didn't take her frowned brows, and dagger throwing eyes at him seriously. No one really takes her seriously, most of the time she is just invisible but definitely not today.
“Delete it.” She demanded, taking a step closer.
“Aw, don't want others to see your pretty face?” The boy holding the camera teased her, and then turned to his green eyes friend with a stupid smirk.
“I said, delete it.” she demanded again, this time more serious and firm than before.
“Or what?”
“I'll sue you. I'll take you to court, but before that I would like to formally inform the student body for violating my privacy, and I'm pretty sure you'd be dealt with by the faculty.” She didn't blink once, she adjusted her glasses after ending her threat.
“Woah, now let's not go there, princess” the green-eyed boy took a step forward with his hands in front in defense. “We don't want trouble.”
“She's bluffing.” The idiot with the camera said.
“She's not.” The other guy said without taking his gaze away from her face. And he is right. She's not bluffing.
The idiot was looking at her face, scanning to see what the other guy was seeing. “Alright, I'll delete it. I was just taking random pictures of the campus anyway.”
She was waiting for him to do it, but he didn't do it, yet. “Do it, right now.”
“I'll delete it later.” He said.
“Delete it now, Cory.” The green-eyed spoke, she almost thought he was a decent guy. Almost, until he spoke again. “We don't want our front row princess to tell on us to her teacher, now do we?” His lips curved up to a stupid, irritating smirk.
Her face could have sworn it was hot as hell from all the anger if it was possible. Cory finally deleted it, and showed her. “There, happy now?”
She didn't reply, just turned and walked away from them. She could feel as though her skin was being burnt because she knew that a pair of beautiful green eyes was staring at her as she walked away.
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Two weeks have passed since this incident. Jameson has forgotten about it or so he thought, he did see her in class and think about how different she was that day from how she acts in class, she almost speaks to no one other than the professor to ask for doubts or questions. He wondered if she even has friends, with her introverted personality, and quick to try and sue anyone who would want to be friends with her? Or the real question is, does she want to be friends with anyone at all?
Yeah, she probably hates everyone. But why is it taking psychology? Maybe that's not her major, he wondered what her major would be. It's definitely not psychology, because he can't imagine her as a psychologist. Maybe she majors in business, but then again, why would she take psych?
Why are his thoughts filled with her and her life? She is no one. She is just some girl passing by, a girl who happened to be more than just what she shows. He knows that, Jameson knows how to read people. Even before his psychology classes, he was not as good as his brother but he is good, and he can read her, just a little more time with her, and he'll have a master degree on her.
The next couple days Jameson skipped psychology classes because he couldn't help but stare and observe her, it was getting ridiculous to the point that even Dean who sleeps in class noticed it. For two days Jameson spent psychology class hours on the rooftop, he has done this on Heights Country High, why not in Yale too? But today was different, the door’s latch was already open, and the door was about 4 inches open.
He pushes past the door and saw someone standing near the edge, at first he thought this was a suicide attempt, but the person was calm, quiet, looking everywhere with a notepad on one hand and a pen on the other. The person was a girl who wore her hair up in a ponytail, her skirt was moving in the direction of the wind, he knew who it was. He could never forget her back profile.
“Well, well, well. If it isn't my favourite front row princess.” He regretted speaking out of the blue because it scared her to the point she jerked up, she could have fallen.
“Fuck!” She yelped.
“You know how to curse?” He teased her.
“Yes, asshole. I’m not 2.” She rolled her eyes when she turned to see who it was.
He smiled. “Never thought I'd see the day where you'd skip classes. Or are you stalking me?”
“Last I checked, I was here first. So, are you stalking me?” she asked.
“I've been here for a couple days, princess. What are you doing here?” He answered and asked the question out of curiosity.
“What are you doing here?”
“You first.”
“No.”
“I'll figure it out on my own.” He said and started to observe, she was writing something down before he interrupted her. He can't figure it out, it's too vague, maybe if she gave her notepad he could get something.
She was quicker than him, she somehow figured that he was about to snatch her notepad from her, and was on her guard.
“Come on. How about we make a deal, yeah? You tell me why you are skipping class and hanging out with yourself on the rooftop, and I'll owe you one.” He tried.
“How do I know that you'd actually keep your word?” She raised an eyebrow, rolling her eyes.
“A Hawthorne never not keep his word.” He said it out proudly. Something to be proud of from that name.
“Right, you're a Hawthorne.” She added. “Why are you so determined to know why I'm here? You get nothing out of it, and yet you're saying you'll owe me one.” She was questioning whether or not to agree to this deal. Having Jameson Hawthorne owe you one is a vid deal.
“I'm a man of mysteries. I also tend to like mysteries. And you, princess? One hell of a mystery. I figured that much two weeks ago when you threatened to sue my friend.” He smiled, taking a step closer. “So? What do you say? Deal?” He asked.
She sighed. “For my journalism class, I have to write about something new…something that is ‘not in my bubble’ as my professor worded it, hence the rooftop.”
Jameson’s face was pulled together in confusion. “Still a bit vague. Are you going to try to fly?”
She rolled her eyes which made him smile. “No. Just looking at people from a different perspective. I don't think I can go out of my bubble but I can always observe people from different angles and be them for a while to write a different story. Sounds a bit stupid but it'll work. And I'll get an A.”
Jameson noticed how her eyes sparkled when she said ‘I'll get an A.” It made him smile even wider.
“That's still not doing what your professor asked.” He pointed it out.
“But it's not the same repetitive story as before. It's new, so.” She shrugged.
Jameson was quiet for a while. “You said you can't go out of your bubble. Is it can't or won't?”
She just glared at him as if he lied about something. Ironically he only told the truth.
“See? You don't even try, and say you can't.”
“It's not easy for me, okay? If I do new things out of the blue, people will stare at me, look at me weirdly or bully me too. I can't just step out of my bubble like that. Even if people are nice, it's me. I'm awkward, and just stupid when it comes to socialising or anything that's not just academics, and some extracurriculars that I do.” She let out a quick sigh before shaking her head.
“So stupid. I don't even know why I'm telling you this.” She murmured.
Jameson was quiet for a few seconds. “I'll tell you what. I said I owe you one, right? How about this; I help you get out of your bubble. I'll help you socialise and all that stuff, stuff that are not you. I'll help you with them.”
“When you owe someone it's up to them to decide what it is.” She said with a little sass.
“I know, princess. But think about it. It's a good one. I'm just suggesting, it's up to you.” He took another step, now only two feet away from her with his hands extended in front. “Deal?”
She bit her lips out of frustration.
Jameson chuckled. “Take it or leave it. Don't need to kill yourself over it.” But he wanted her to take it, so bad.
She let go of her bottom lips, and relaxed her shoulders. She passed the pen to the other hand, holding both the notepad and pen in one, she spoke “deal.”
Her soft palm met his and shook gently. The touch shouldn't have sent goosebumps to Jameson but it did.
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ordinaryschmuck · 2 days
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Why I Love The Owl House: Part 5-The Themes
Prev Part
Salutations, random people on the internet who are already skimming past this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.
And we’re just two parts away from me never talking about The Owl House again! In previous parts, we’ve talked about the characters, their relationships, and the narrative threads that are closely tied to them. For this part, we’re now discussing the show’s themes and messages. And I’ll level with you all: I’m admittedly...faulty at this part of media analysis. Anything regarding the discussion of a theme or message that a story tries to tell is something I struggle to do right. I regrettably either come across a theme through luck or piggybacking off of what others have said and throwing my two cents in. When it comes to putting it in my own words, I just…have issues in describing what the theme is. Hell, this whole part was the hardest to write because I often drew a blank of what to discuss or how to dig into it further. A part of me, deep down, KNOWS what a story is trying to say but I, a lot of the time, struggle finding the right words to best convey it.
Yeah, isn’t that rich? An English Major with a limited vocabulary and an ineptitude towards analysis. My life sucks sometimes…
With that said, there are some things that I’ve noticed about The Owl House and what it’s trying to tell to kids and maybe a few adults. A lot of its messages are definitely simple to older audiences, but with the things it has to say to kids it makes The Owl House something important to watch if they’re to shape the future. And no, I’m not talking about those lessons told at the end of each episode, but overall themes that occur through the course of the series. As far as I can tell, The Owl House has about…thirteen things to say about life, love, the trials of growing up, and how to deal with people. Plus, much like the narratives, it’s all tied closely to the characters and their personal journeys. Does the show say everything it needs to say well? Or is this another case of “If the show had more time it’d be better” and all that yada-yada? Well, let’s find out together as we count off the things that The Owl House has to say. Starting with a point the series makes exponentially clear:
(Also, prepare thyself. This one is twenty-five pages)
Honesty is the best policy 
I don’t know if you noticed, but these characters tend to lie. A LOT. And we’ve already gone into great detail with how often Luz lies in previous parts. Whether it's to her mom, her girlfriend, or friend group, Luz tends to keep some dark truths from the people she cares about. It’s partially selfish, but it comes from not wanting them to worry about her when they’re the ones currently going through it. It’s part of Luz’s bigger flaw of caring more for others than she does for herself (Which we’ll get to later), but the point remains constant that if she told the truth sooner, she’d have saved a lot of pain and heartache for herself and others. Same goes for other characters who lie for similar reasons but with greater consequences.
Going from least hurtful to most, let’s start with Eda, the one who lies in two different ways. The most obvious lies come with her pain, primarily the curse. She initially chose to keep her mouth shut about it, hoping that it’ll never turn into a big deal or a problem. If you’ve been paying attention to her character’s journey, you can tell how wrong that assumption was. When keeping it a secret from the rest of her family, the Owl Beast came out at the worst possible time, making Dell disabled and Gwen desperate to get the beast out of her precious daughter. By underplaying how bad it is to Raine, it makes Raine think their relationship isn’t serious enough so they break it off. She didn’t even tell Luz and King until they met the Owl Beast themselves and tried to survive it. Eda had King in her home for eight years and this was the first time he’s ever known ANYTHING about the Owl Beast. And even then, she still hides that it’s getting worse by the day, giving King and Luz an IDEA of what Eda’s going through but withholding the part that could upset them. Just telling them about the curse is arguably Eda at her most honest about what’s wrong with her, and she still doesn’t want to reveal everything. It’s part of this underlying problem where Eda’s unwilling to reveal the pain inside herself because, well, she’s the big bad Owl Lady. The most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles. And with a title like that, she doesn’t want anyone to know that she’s fragile. She tried being fragile once in the beginning of “Keeping Up A-Fear-Ances,” detailing what the curse does to her, and it made her mother go a little overboard in wanting to help her precious daughter. Needless to say, she’s not willing to go through that again, especially since Luz and Raine proves her point by putting themselves in danger when knowing how much Eda hurts. When Luz learns about how bad the curse got, she practically threw herself into the arms of the Emperor to find this specific thing that could help. And with Raine, while Eda opened up more about the curse and how it affected her magic, she still remains tight lipped about another thing: Her kids. She never brought them up, hiding her turmoil about them leaving her for good and was lucky enough that Raine found out soon enough so that SHE won’t abandon Luz and King when they still need her. It’s fortunate that Raine found out by accident, but UNFORTUNATE that it led to them getting captured to save Eda so she could talk things out with her kids. In Eda’s eyes, vulnerability means that you need to be helped or protected, with the ones you love paying the price more. She hates that feeling and despises it even more when people she loves get in danger because of it. Eda eventually finds her way out of this mindset thanks to the love King and Luz share with her and how Hooty and Dell prove that facing pain head on is the only way to heal from it. It was a slow process, but one that eventually led to her opening up more, even allowing herself to cry when she would usually hide her pain with a smile or push it down for the sake of a brave face. She becomes honest with her own pain, with her curse, and how much she truly cares about her loved ones. However, that’s more of a general lie with Eda. There’s one specific lie that she told that went on for way too long.
Lying to King about being a King of Demons seemed harmless at first. Eda was just messing around with what she thought was a pet. Only for that pet to prove he’s more intelligent than she thought and, as a result, more delusional. King took being the King of Demons as part of his whole identity, with every action he made trying to live out that fantasy. By the time Eda revealed the truth, it’s like telling a child that there’s no such thing as Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, AND the Tooth Fairy all at once. Only the effects would be ten times worse because it would destroy all of King’s sense of self AND give him questions that Eda wouldn’t have any answers to. Eda knew this inevitability would come any day now, so she put it off as long as she could, initially hoping that King would outgrow this fantasy himself so she won’t have to rip off this particular bandaid. Only to be backed into a corner because King and the others almost got killed in trying to prove that King’s really, well, a king. This time, telling a lie actually put someone in danger, so Eda tried the truth for a change and, well…it crushed him. More accurately, it shattered King’s core identity and sense of what's real and what isn't. Eda saw this, immediately felt guilty for holding it in for too long, but never comes to regret this decision. It’s something she KNEW needed to be done from the start and accepts the “consequences” of what comes from this lie. I put “consequences” in quotes because aside from a lot of tears being shed, this was the first step to King growing up and he would come to appreciate the honesty (even though he had a long, emotionally draining road ahead). Eda telling the truth WAS for the better, even if she should have told it long ago. But, all things considered, the lie wasn’t THAT bad of one. It was done to keep King happy and let him have some childhood innocence for a while…As for the lie AMITY told?
All Amity had to tell Willow was that her parents are forcing them apart because Willow’s family isn’t rich enough. That’s all. It wouldn’t have been great, but it would at least be the truth and Willow could have understood…Maybe. Well, there’s a slight possibility that Willow would have tried talking things out with Amity’s parents or continue to be friends despite them, not caring what they’ll do to her. Amity, not wanting to take that chance, decided it’d be best to make herself look like the bad guy. So, she lied that she doesn’t want to be friends with Willow because her magic is weak, thus distancing herself from her first real friend. Was it an extreme decision that crushed Willow’s heart and left her unsure if she’s capable of doing anything right? Yes. But to be fair…Amity said that lie when she was probably seven years old. I’d like to see what morally correct decision you made at seven.
But the first lie isn’t the worst part about Amity’s decision. In actuality, it’s how she decided to keep the lie going for years until Luz showed up and intervened. In Amity’s “defense,” which is really a frail excuse, she didn’t have any choice but to keep up the act. She already said it, it did its job, and now she has to commit to her lie or risk putting Willow in the warpath of her parents. Amity says it herself that she’s not brave enough to fight them for Willow, so she instead puts on a mask that makes her appear to be a mean girl and further separates herself from her now ex-friend. This led to Amity disrespecting Willow and belittling her because it’s better to have Willow hate Amity instead of let Odalia follow through on her threats. It wasn’t until Luz showed up and started improving Amity’s life that she realized that being nice FEELS nice. Is that an oversimplification? You better believe it is, but I talked about these three characters and this aspect of Amity and Willow’s relationship three parts in a row so LET ME SIMPLIFY! Anywho, it is good that Amity told the truth and it’s even better that she apologized, but it doesn’t change how the initial lie made things worse. In an attempt to protect Willow from Amity’s parents, she left Willow to face bullies and judgmental peers without anyone to comfort her or be in her corner. At least, not until she met Gus and then later Luz. It was almost a well-intentioned lie like Eda’s with King, but while Eda put off the truth to protect King’s innocence, Amity destroyed WILLOW’S with a single lie. By the time the truth came out, it finally STARTED the healing process. It didn’t fully heal Willow, but it STARTED to, with her admitting that making things right with Amity is what jump started her having more confidence. Confidence that she’d have since the beginning if Amity wasn’t the one to crush it by saying Willow being weak is the reason they can’t be friends anymore. Amity had her reasons, and I went over them thoroughly enough in previous parts (Go read THOSE), but it doesn’t change that Amity caused a lot of damage to Willow by lying about why they can’t be friends. On the bright side, while she did keep it going for too long, she at least made things right in about a couple years down the line. It’s not like she kept this one lie going for a dozen years until adulthood and letting things get so worse that it was almost too late to fix things. That would be AWFUL…Anyways, let’s talk about Lilith.
Lilith proves that a lie of omission still counts as a lie. For YEARS she kept in the secret of cursing Eda and for YEARS let Eda’s life get worse because of it. I’ll get to how thoroughly screwed up things got with Eda in a minute, but to keep things brief: Things would not have been as bad if Lilith fessed up sooner. There might have been a lot of yelling, a bruised nose, and Eda proclaiming she has no sister sooner, but time tends to heal all wounds. And they would have had more time to heal if Lilith spit the truth out at fourteen. She would have more time to fix things and prove that she can help Eda, just like how Amity started fixing things with Willow once revealing who was the REAL weak one in the relationship. Now, these are two VASTLY different scenarios and Eda would most certainly have been out for blood immediately, but I’m certain that if the rage settled they could have worked things out and Lilith might have helped Eda with the curse sooner. And, heck, if you go back FURTHER, there’s a chance that honesty could have stopped the curse altogether. If Lilith was honest about her own inadequacy and confessed to Eda about how she’s POSITIVE that her sister would win, Eda would have just shrugged and given the Emperor’s Coven position to Lilith no problem. Granted, joining that coven would have been its own can of worms, but it would have certainly saved Eda a lot of emotional and physical pain. Unfortunately, problems with showing weakness apparently run in the family and Lilith didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t stronger than her sister. She needed to PROVE it…by cheating and completely derailing Eda’s life in the most outrageous fashion. And Lilith would learn years later that the truth really does set one free. But again, I’ll get to that in a minute…
We all have our reasons for being dishonest. They’re selfish reasons in hindsight, but we still have them. Sometimes it’s to stop others from worrying about us, other times it's to hide something we’re ashamed of, and most of the time we just want to stall a bad reaction that we KNOW is inevitable. What we need to learn is that the truth ALWAYS comes out eventually, whether it's through us or through others. We can try to deny the truth, bury it, and hope that it never gets out, but it always does. And what The Owl House tells us is that it’s a GOOD THING for the truth to be out there, especially for loved ones. There might be secrets we HAVE to keep to ourselves, but if you can’t be honest with the people you love, then they can’t effectively help you nor can you help them. It’s always important to be as honest as you can be, because the more you put off the truth the worse the consequences will be. Because you never know how bad one action can snowball into something worse. Which brings me to another theme in the series…
Your actions can have unintended consequences
There are two characters this applies to: Luz and Lilith. You can…probably see where this is headed.
Luz and Lilith tend to make mistakes in the series, Luz more so than Lilith. Granted, Luz’s mistakes mostly stem from her character flaw of not thinking things through, mixed with some impatience and being afraid of confrontation. In other words: She’s a teenager. Dumb teens are going to do some dumb things, and while Luz is smarter than people will give her credit for, she’s still the kid who angered a Slitherbeast by stealing Amity’s wand when Eda’s lessons seemed like they were going nowhere. And that’s just a MINOR thing in Luz’s adventures. We already went over the domino effect last time and how Luz texting ONE LIE to Camila ended up putting her in a more stressful position than how telling the truth outright would have. There are also the many times Luz almost got herself killed, sometimes due to overconfidence or being too emotionally driven to take down someone threatening the people she loves. Most notable examples of that second one definitely comes from being hyper focused on fighting Lilith and Belos in “Young Blood, Old Souls,” which led to the destruction of the portal door and Luz struggling to get back home. Or how Luz thought she could take Belos head on again in "King's Tide," nearly getting petrified in the process if not for smooth talk and tricking him with an invisible branding glove. As for her near death experiences caused by overconfidence, well, let’s see: You have her going on that fake quest for Adeghast, pretending to be an abomination, fighting Grom, challenging Boscha to a grudgby match (That might as well count), and trying to steal the healing hat. And that’s just the stuff that happens in Season One, with some of it carrying over to MORE consequences aside from just almost dying. The wacky adventures in Hexside made Odalia think she has a case to get Luz, Willow, and Gus expelled. And when getting caught by stealing the hat and Lilith consequently using her as bait, it leads to Eda’s curse getting irrevocably worse and Luz being forced to destroy the portal during her attempt to save Eda from Belos. A part of growing up is learning that if you don’t think far enough ahead, you could cause disastrous consequences. Thankfully, for each mistake Luz makes, she is often quick to correct it when the problem arises at any time. Plus, after so many near-death experiences, it eventually molded Luz into becoming the kind of person who doesn't wants lasting consequences over something stupid she did, trying to be more careful in her approach to something. Because Lilith proves just how disastrous it can be to yourself and others if you don't think about the consequences.
The thing is, Lilith PARTIALLY knew the repercussions that came from cursing Eda. Simply put, Eda would have lost the duel and not join the Emperor’s coven. It was a selfish plan made by selfish desires, but Lilith believed she had things all figured out and that things SURELY wouldn’t snowball from there. Turns out, she didn’t think ahead enough (Yeah, big shock). Because everything that went wrong with Eda’s life is all Lilith’s fault. The Owl Beast attacking their dad? Eda running away from their mom? The distance Eda has with her whole family? Eda breaking up with Raine? It all circles back to the curse that Lilith put on her. Now, Eda owns partial blame as some of these were caused by HER actions that no one forced her to make. Yet the curse didn’t help much, especially as it got worse the older Eda got with her magic fading away with the curse’s effects. Lilith excuses this by saying she didn’t expect the curse to last more than a day, as if that actually means anything. Look, I get that she was young and very stupid, with her hyperfixation on joining the Emperor’s Coven blinding Lilith from what was right and wrong. But she still kept that secret for YEARS, not wanting to reveal it until she got a cure for Eda, only to make things worse not just because the curse got stronger and the distance with Eda and Lilith became greater. It’s because., by the time Lilith DOES spit out the truth, Eda’s already at her lowest point with the curse and is furious at Lilith for kidnapping Luz. Just like how Camila would have been LESS upset if Luz told the truth sooner, Eda would be significantly less blood thirsty if Lilith came out and admitted her guilt from the start. I said it with the honest theme: Time heals all wounds, and Luz and Camila prove that forgiveness CAN come if someone proves they’re sorry enough and had more time to reflect on their actions. Lilith was just afraid of that inevitable confrontation that she kept her mouth shut for YEARS to avoid it. She was too scared of facing her own consequences, and it’s why it’s a smart decision to let Lilith decide to SHARE the curse. It finally allows Lilith to understand what she put Eda through and express her apologies far better. It finally hammers into her mind what she did was wrong and how she can take the steps to improve things…We barely see any of this, but at least she’s NOW experiencing consequences for herself instead of letting someone else’s life get worse.
The Owl House does a great job of showing that anything we do, no matter how big or small, can always cause big problems for ourselves and others. There’s no changing that, and what matters most is how we react. If we wait too long, things can only get worse and it’s for the best to fix things as quickly as possible instead of pushing aside the inevitable. And be careful of what you do because you never know when one stupid idea could lead to something even worse for your future. However, while The Owl House does show how our actions have negative consequences, it is smart enough to say that the opposite is true. You see…
Your existence changes lives in unexpected ways
Whenever we do something bad, the domino effect it causes could lead to disastrous outcomes that we could never prepare for, but that doesn’t mean our existence is nothing but accidentally causing harm to ourselves and others. Existence is actually about changing the lives of people around us, a lot of the time for the better. And there’s no character that perfectly proves this more than Luz Noceda, who is the very reason that most people in the Isles is living their best lives.
“She also caused Belos to—”
SHE IS THE VERY REASON THAT THEY’RE LIVING THEIR BEST LIVES! Nearly every person she's come into contact with is better than they were before meeting Luz because she has this tendency to make life better through mere existence. Sometimes it’s unintentional, with Vee being the first person Luz helped. When Vee saw Luz in the Demon Realm, she saw that there was a chance to escape Belos and took it with no regrets…That is, until Luz showed up again, but it all worked out for the best. Vee got a home she felt safe in, friends to spend her life with, and a family that treats her as one of their own because Luz unintentionally gave her an out. And when Luz officially met Vee, she did everything to secure her future sister a safe space to live in. As for other characters Luz more DIRECTLY changed for the better, Eda and King are the first in that regard. They were looking for someone to steal something for them, only for Luz to bring them together as a family. She became the daughter that Eda never had but likely wished she did as Luz is just as chaotic as Eda was but with more of a good heart. Luz gave Eda someone to care for, someone to FIGHT for, as she proves that having someone in your life is a lot better than living alone as a criminal with her son being misconstrued as a pet. With Luz around, Eda allowed herself to love again, letting other people back in because she needs to when taking care of this fun, energetic girl that practically crashed into her life. And with King, Luz gave him someone that is almost ALWAYS on his side, being protective and caring towards this cute little guy who never had a friend before. Luz was the first person he’s consistently interacted with that’s anywhere CLOSE to King’s age, and she was there to offer warmth and snuggles, endless support in finding the truth about his people, and inspiration on how to handle someone like The Collector. With Luz’s help, King went from a greedy demon hungry for power that will never be his, to a sweet boy who learned that all he ever needed was the found family around him. Luz met two misfits who often fought but cared for each other, and brought them to become even closer as a family. A family that would be nothing without her, with the same going for Luz’s friends.
Luz formed her very own squad of pals, all of them coming together because she was there to make them close. Willow and Gus were already buddies when they met Luz, but she was still there to make things better between Willow and Amity and, through inadvertently meddling in Hunter’s life, made him and Gus the best of bros. The most unlikely of friendships, one rekindled while the other forged through adventure, all happened because Luz showed up and improved all their lives. I already THOROUGHLY went over how she was able to change Amity’s life for the better, so…go read that. As for Willow, Luz acted as a cheerleader that often pushed her first best friend to do something that was stupid and reckless but ultimately for the best. Whether it’s pretending to be an abomination or playing grudgby against a team’s captain, Luz nudging Willow towards adventures allowed her to find her true magical strength, face her bullies, and become a confident witch that Amity would relearn to respect and for Hunter to love. With Gus, while neither are as close to each other as they are with Willow, Luz still helped him get something he always wanted: More friends. Before Luz or Willow, Gus was looking for someone to like and respect him instead of using him as a way to get something they want. Then here comes Luz to not just be another friend but unintentionally give Gus the chance to make more of his own. She gave him glyphs to help impress Glandis kids, only to grow closer to Matt when someone like Bria started showing her true colors. And, again, meddling in Hunter’s life led to him and Gus going on an adventure that brought them together as bros. Now, how did meddling lead to that? Well, aside from giving Hunter his first social interaction with someone close to his age, accidentally giving him an emotional support bird, and being the first crack in the wall around his heart, Luz also took Hunter into the Emperor’s mind and completely shattered his worldview. By the time Gus found Hunter, the poor boy was shattered and desperate for comfort, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Gus was just the one there to pick up the pieces with Hunter paying him back when it was Gus’ turn to need help. Luz created this friend group where the kids all care and help one another and gives them the opportunities to grow and better themselves for the company they want to keep. These four wouldn’t be as close as they are without Luz. Willow, Gus, and Amity might not even have the CHANCE to meet Hunter or know who he is if not for Luz intervening and helping him out of Belos’ hold.
“But she still help free The Collector–”
Oh, you mean the child who was falsely imprisoned and needed to learn how to play nicely and safely with others? The same child who wouldn’t have been better if not for Luz teaching him the value of a mortal life? THAT Collector? Because you’re right. It is good that Luz helped free them, even if accidentally.
“But she still helped Belos–”
OKAY! Okay. I get it. You have this weird obsession with Luz accidentally helping Belos and believing that everything wrong with the Isles is because of her, regardless if it was an accident or not. Good for you and go f**k yourself. But let’s not forget that Luz is the reason why Belos’ regime toppled. Heck, she was doing that before she knew Belos was a problem. In Hexside, they limit students to stick to learning one magic track before graduating and picking one coven. It’s a blatant display of preparing them for the inevitable, only for Luz to come in and allow Principal Bump to realize maybe it’s worth letting kids sign up for multiple magic tracks before making a final decision. The results make the adults remember how much they miss their covenless days and a character like Jerbo being inspired to change the system when he grows up. Luz already started the gears turning to tear down the systems Belos built ALL IN her first day at Hexside no less. By the time she does meet Belos and see how clearly evil he is, Luz still goes about trying to ruin every part of his plan. Luz slows down his plans to flee the Isles after committing genocide by blowing up the portal door, she saves the palismen Belos would have used to extend his worthless life, and goes so far to help Lilith and Hunter, his most loyal soldiers, turn their backs on him. Luz was cleaning up the “mess” she made for helping Belos long before she knew she was “responsible,” which she wasn’t. Belos knew this, and it’s exactly why he revealed that Luz helped him with his plans, even though he could have tricked anybody. He used this ploy to trip Luz up, only for it to make her more determined to stop him…until the guilt became too much to bare at one point, but that’s where her friends, the support group that SHE cultivated because of HER actions, came in to encourage Luz and tell her nothing is her fault. And when Luz came back…she died. But the Titan, the GOD of this universe, took note of Luz’s actions and all that she did to give King a good life as a shining light of kindness and would then give Luz the powers she needed to come back, rip Belos out of the Titan’s heart, and let him melt away in the boiling rain. You can claim all you want that Belos’ rule is all because of Luz, but Luz still ruined all of his plans and stopped him for good, doing it intentionally and unintentionally. Meaning that everything she “caused” was being fixed by her own existence.
…Okay, might have went on a bit of a rant there, But I can’t help it! You see, I made a post THREE YEARS ago, listing the ways Luz improved lives and how that wouldn’t have happened if she never came to the Isles. And one person, on THREE SEPARATE OCCASIONS, replied to that post and mentioned how those problems wouldn’t have existed if Luz never came at all. And it just feels like it devalues Luz’s accomplishments, the good that she did, and takes away some of the blame from Belos. Luz didn’t force him to use coven sigils or steal palisman or even commit genocide. That was all him and if it wasn’t Luz it would’ve been someone else he tricked to get what he wanted. We don’t blame Hitler’s dictatorship on the guy who stopped him from stepping into traffic before having the chance to DO all those bad things, and we definitely don’t blame the fourteen year old who couldn’t tell that the spineless, shaggy human would become the most dangerous person on the Isles. Because if you want to go so far back as to blame Luz, then you can blame Eda too. After all, she’s the one who told Luz about the time pools, she’s the one who allowed Luz to stay, and she’s even the one who’s responsible for Luz coming to the Isles in the first place! Yet you don’t see people blaming HER for all the world’s problems, do you? No, you f**king DON'T…Though, now that I think about it, if we could transition to this finger pointing and unnecessary blaming, there are some positive things Eda’s existence brought out into the world.
Real quick: I’m not saying that everything good that happened to the Isles and Luz’s friends is because of Eda. Only a lunatic would go that far. What Eda DOES get credit for is how she gave her kids a better life. Luz was from a world where most kids never got her or her weird interests and actions. She was a social outcast looking to be understood and Eda gave her that chance of understanding. She brought Luz into a magical world, protecting her from its darker edges, giving her a chance to explore, and letting her find her people. Eda found a kid who was alone in her own world and brought her to one that would eventually greet her with open arms. Things weren’t perfect at first, as Luz almost died three times within her first week, but with Eda’s guidance and care, she gave Luz a place she could call a second home and two people she could call an extension to her family. Speaking of family, Eda is the reason why King has one. She saw a little creature that lived in the cave of a dangerous monster, took him home with her, and that creature grew up to be her pseudo son. She treated him as a pet at first, thinking nothing of it, but as she grew to realize his intelligence and childlike behavior, she started treating him more like a son. Plus it’s a good thing that she got King out of that spire. He would have grown up alone as the last of his species with no one but the mute Jean-Luc as company. By taking him with her, Eda gave King a warm home, good food, and, eventually, Luz. All that is before King legally made himself a Clawthorne, making his family larger and causing Eda to cry tears of joy because she grew to love the little. She grew to love BOTH her kids as she wouldn’t be the same without them just like how they wouldn’t be the same without her. Eda didn’t think much when taking these two in, she was only being charitable. Still, regardless of intention, Eda managed to improve the lives of two innocent kids that needed more love in their life.
Life is a chaotic thing, giving us consequences to our negative actions but also rewards ourselves and others through the mere act of existing. Sometimes we’re rewarded and other times the people we love are. In either case, we can never truly know how much a simple action can affect someone’s life, whether or not we intend to do so. If Luz is any indication, as well as Eda to a lesser extent, then the show is trying to tell us that your life might seem small and your choices smaller, but you’d be surprised by how big of an impact you can leave on the world just by being yourself. It’s a beautiful sentiment that the show stands by, being one of several ways it tries to tell people that they matter. Especially with this next theme.
There’s nothing wrong with who you are
In case you’re wondering, no, this isn’t about how the show normalizes sexualities, genders, different races, and overall equality. Though, real quick, that IS a valid and important aspect of the series that not enough people took into account, meaning that we SHOULD spread that message more so that it can stick. However, for this theme, it’s more than just about representation and letting many different kinds of people feel seen as individuals. It’s more about the image issues that a few different characters have.
Starting with the most obvious, we have Willow, The Owl House’s shy girl. The poor girl starts off so unsure of herself because she’s not as good as others in one specific kind of magic even though it’s obvious to everyone in the room what Willow’s real talent is. It doesn’t help that most of her classmates judge and make fun of Willow for her “weakness,” with the time she had on the show being spent proving to herself and others that she isn’t weak. It’s why when Willow DOES mess up or feels unable to help that it causes her to break down and think that maybe she is just “Half-A-Witch Willow” like all of her bullies say. Thankfully, she has her support system to be there for her, Luz and Gus constantly acting as cheerleaders to raise Willow’s spirits and Hunter sharing how much he admires her strength and kindness. Interestingly enough, he also has the same confidence issues as Willow, having no natural magic and always pushing himself twice as hard to be seen as an equal among his peers, who are some of the best witches in the Isles. They’re also GROWN witches who had more time to mature their magical capabilities, but nonetheless, it made Hunter constantly feel like he wasn’t good enough either. It’s what makes him and Willow having each other in their corner kind of beautiful. Most of the people they see everyday look down on them, with Willow and Hunter not doing themselves any favors. But together, they can remind each other that they ARE worth more than anyone bargained for. Though, they don’t JUST have each other. Again, Willow has her cheerleaders and Hunter eventually has Flapjack pulling him in the right direction. To be honest, I’ve said all that I’ve needed to say with these two, how they grew, and how they affected each other. Or rather how Willow affected Hunter, as it’s still mostly one-sided. If you want to find out why, just go back and read parts one and two, it clears things up better. For now, I’ll say that these two definitely had their fair share of confidence issues, with Willow’s being obvious from the start while Hunter’s became more apparent the more his heart opened up. When you’re surrounded by people you think are “better” than you, it’s easy to feel like you matter less despite your own talents. But in some cases, a lot like Hunter, people are better at hiding it.
Take a look at Eda. With the amount of confidence that she has and the ego she flaunts, you wouldn’t guess she has image issues. But then you look at the curse and it all becomes clear. Eda’s regrets, nightmares, and worries proves that she does care about how others see her and react to her bad side. It’s not as prevalent or as evident as Willow or Hunter’s issues but it’s still there, with things getting worse when the curse took away Eda’s magic. She’s no longer the most powerful witch on the Isles, losing all the fear and respect she’s garnished and is now forced to relearn to be powerful in different ways. She bounces back but not without a lot of frustration, more towards herself if anything else. Eda hates the fact that she’s “weak” now and was desperate to get herself back to the top as quickly as possible. It’s not until she learned that her curse can become a strength instead of a weakness did Eda really begin to feel better about herself. I mean, I’d probably feel better about myself too if I could suddenly transform into a hot harpy. She certainly isn’t complaining, and good for her. She proves that you can always get over your issues, no matter how long it takes. For Eda, it might’ve taken her late thirties or…early forties? Regardless of how old Eda is, it definitely took a long time to get better and, even then, she still has The Collector's manufactured nightmare about people seeing her as a monster, which clearly got to her. The unfortunate truth is that it takes time to heal and you won’t be completely cured. There are times you will have good days or bad days, with Eda representing that through her false, and sometimes honest, bravado that tends to hide how messed up her issues really are. It’s good to show kids how slow that progress can be, even if it’s handled in a way that’s not as noticeable. However, while one’s issues can take time to fix, others’ tend to get worse with more time and, of course, more trauma.
Luz definitely had her issues, even before the whole Belos thing. She hoped being a “chosen one” would help her fit in, was worried about being seen as fragile, and became concerned about tanking her reputation on the first day of going to Hexside. Luz may be a proud nerd at heart, but she’s also one who cares about how others see her, whether it’d be her classmates or the people close to her. It comes with spending years of others signaling Luz out as “the weird girl,” with the Boiling Isles giving her a fresh start. Luz can be whatever she wants, even the hero of her own story…only to feel worse about herself once growing some attachments. Every time she accidentally caused troubles for other people, it caused Luz to sometimes believe she was a burden and needed to fix any problem she indirectly caused. Just look at how Luz reacted to accidentally making Amity lose her job. After getting it back for her, Luz was ready to accept that Amity would never want to see her again, despite Amity sharing the blame for it. Because Luz, at her core, is a good person, and it hurts her deep down when she sometimes hurts the people she loves in this world that she feels more at home in. It’s why Belos telling Luz that she helped him with his genocide affects her so much. It’s not true, everyone in the show knows it’s not true, and even members of the fandom who aren’t idiots know that Belos is full of crap. His actions are still his own and what Luz did is nothing wrong compared to his horrible deeds. Yet it still gets to Luz because it takes all of her issues of feeling like a burden turned up to the highest degree because she blames herself for the Day of Unity happening and all the craziness that comes from it. It hurts her so much that she forgets one important detail: She’s just a kid. Her mistakes are common, but nothing to beat herself up over. She’s still growing and learning to be better, not having the mental or emotional maturity to know better than to trust a shaggy man that claims to be on her side. As long as Luz makes it clear that she regrets what she did wrong and learned from it, which she always does, there’s no one with a rational mind that will blame her. It’s why it hurts that Luz doesn’t think she deserves it. Even though everybody constantly reminds Luz that life is better because she’s in it, it’s still something hard for her to accept. The times she accidentally caused trouble back home likely attributed this behavior, having only Camila in Luz’s corner as everyone else was busy calling her a freak or a problem child. Sometimes when you’re told your whole life that you’re a problem, it’s hard to stop seeing yourself as one. That’s Luz to a T, and it’s not until she found people that understood her and how she’s neither a problem nor a screw up did Luz slowly start to believe it, even though part of her can’t help but go back to the guilt she felt about things she didn’t mean to do.
We all have our reasons for self-doubt and sometimes self-hatred. It can stem from how others see us, how we see ourselves, or sometimes how we BELIEVE others see ourselves. And it can be an issue that could unfortunately last decades, where we get better but not completely healed of what hurts us. The only way to help ease that pain is remembering, simply put, there’s nothing wrong with who we are. Are there times when people SHOULD improve themselves? Absolutely. But if you’re anything like Willow, Hunter, Eda, and Luz, you should know that there’s not much you need to improve aside from your attitude. You’ll make mistakes, you’ll go back to how you feel, and you will find it hard to get over this problem you’re dealing with. But with the people you love cheering you on and reminding you that you ARE loved in this world, then that’s already the first step you need. And if you think you’re not someone worth the effort as there are more people suffering harder than you, just remember…
Your pain matters too
Sometimes, the nicest kinds of people tend to think that the problems of others outweigh anything that they’re going through. Especially those who lived most of their lives being told that they matter less than anyone else. And…you can already tell which two characters this theme applies to.
Luz and Willow are both victims of caring too much. You wouldn’t think that’s an issue, but it very much becomes one when helping others stop you from helping yourself. Luz is a more popular example of this as she will frequently throw herself into danger just to help the people she loves. She’ll even treat helping someone as a distraction to her problems like helping Eda reunite with Raine and getting Kikimora out of the Emperor’s Coven to forget Luz’s promise to her mom. Or using Amity’s desire to join the Bonesborough Brawl as a way not to think about her dad. Luz constantly decides helping people is more important than anything she could be going through, with Willow being in a similar yet less intense boat. “For the Future” proves this, with Willow hyper focusing on making Hunter happy and suppressing her own stress and anxieties of her fathers as she did so. It’s exactly what Luz does throughout the series, just as a one-time occurrence that Willow learns from quickly. Her caring for others more than herself fits her good-natured attitude, but after her talk with Hunter and Gus it’s likely Willow won’t return to this behavior again…Which in turn presents a problem with Luz and this theme.
That moment between Gus, Hunter, and Willow in “For the Future” is great, but it feels like LUZ needed a moment like that with the people she loves. She KIND OF gets it with Amity in “Reaching Out,” but not to the same extent Willow got with her boys. Amity just boxed Luz into a corner and forced her to spit out what’s bothering her, with the truth and how Amity reacted to it making Luz think she can be a little honest with her feelings. Only for her to go right back to distracting herself so she doesn’t confront her emotions in the very next episode, with Eda helping out by telling Luz the story of how she first met Raine. Meanwhile, Gus and Hunter told Willow that they appreciate her and everything she’s done for them, but tell her it’s okay to feel sad and to let it all out. And…Well, since there was only one episode left after that moment and all of it was dedicated to fighting the bad guys and giving our characters happy endings, all we can do is assume that Willow DID learn from her adventure in “For the Future” and grew from it. Even though Luz sort of gets that same lesson, there’s never this explicit case that she’s growing from it. If you dig deep enough in how she slowly admits what’s wrong or how she’s willing to vocalize her journal entry about what’s bothering her, then you can see that Luz learns a little. But when she’s the character that constantly puts others' needs above her own, especially for mistakes she didn’t intend, then it feels weird that she doesn’t get the same thing Willow got. If anything, it makes what Willow went through feels more like a lesson of the week than an application of this underlying theme within the series. It’s still a valid lesson to teach, but if this was something both Luz AND Willow needed to learn then Willow needed more moments in the spotlight of putting others' needs in front of her own and Luz needed more of a scene like Willow’s to better herself. It’s still fine as is, it just could have been better.
Still, it’s an overall good theme to teach kids. The Owl House is clearly telling them to be kind to others, primarily through its main character being the purest one of the bunch. But as good and important it is to spread the message of kindness, it’s equally essential to let them know it’s okay to focus on themselves sometimes too. You’re not going to properly help anyone if YOU’RE not feeling good yourself. Whether you just need to cry it out or talk it out with someone you love, it’s important to think of yourself from time to time. It’s not selfish to care about your own well-being and you won’t be a bad person for taking a day to just…decompress. You can do much worse than make yourself happy. As for those who HAVE done worse, well, there’s a theme meant for them.
People can always improve
The Owl House is one of those shows that spreads the message of turning enemies into friends instead of leaving them as, er, enemies. And if it’s enough to piss off Lily Orchard (Don’t bother with her), then you KNOW the show is doing something right. But in fairness, the show makes it clear that this decision is best reserved for those who are explicitly complex. Just look at Amity, Lilith, Hunter, and The Collector, characters we would have never expected to be reformed by their first appearances. Amity started out as generic prissy mean girl #115, Lilith was a snooty witch with a stick up her bum, Hunter was a charismatic fighter who threatened the lives of “criminals,” and The Collector was a god-like being who seemed to take joy in wiping out an entire race of people. Not great setups for characters you eventually want us to find redemption. Thankfully, The Owl House is a smartly written show and knows that you got to show layers to a person and why they’re like a certain way.
Amity and Hunter are by far the best examples of this. Every episode they’re in shows a new layer to them and the lives they live. To keep things brief (because I’ve talked enough about them already), they’re both kids who grew up with parental figures that made them believe that you have to always do what you’re told to justify your existence. Odalia and Belos both proved that there will be major punishments for when Amity and Hunter fail, motivating them to do their best for the wrong reasons. And doing their best often meant putting others down or doing something without knowing better because…what else could you do? Run away? Fight back? Stand up for yourself? Yeah, easier said than done. Hunter is proof that it’s not that simple, with Belos physically mistreating Hunter whenever he spoke up or how Belos WILL send his guards out to hunt Hunter down. Not everyone can be like Amity who has a parent that EVENTUALLY cares enough to kick the more abusive parent out. Sometimes, when you’re on your own with no real support group, it causes you to do as you're told without learning until later that it was the wrong choice. Amity and Hunter both show that, and it isn’t until meeting their friends that things start to change for the better for them. And they sure did change, with Amity and Hunter always getting a little bit better, even if their living conditions made it a bit difficult to do so. Plus, they’re kids. Kids are allowed to grow and change, especially if they’re always learning from their mistakes before doing something TRULY unforgivable. Unlike…other characters that I’m not a fan of in a different show I tried so hard to love. And when it comes to fictional storytelling, especially ones aimed for kids, I usually try not to avoid the “They’re just kids” argument because…yeah, obviously they’re just kids. That doesn’t change how well the writers handle their redemption, because if I’m left questioning if this character is MEANT to be redeemed, something screwy is going on here. With The Owl House, the writers consistently remind you that these characters are young and naive, with that knowledge playing into Amity and Hunter’s redemptions as it makes it an easier pill to swallow. And it doesn’t work JUST for these two.
The Collector being a kid is the central point to their redemption. He literally doesn't know better and–I’ve also gone over this a lot too, I know. But the point keeps being valid every time you look at The Collector’s actions. Even with the way they put Luz, Eda, and King into playing his weird games, The Collector still sits down and mopes because they all kept winning. It’s very much the same as a sad, lonely child who doesn’t like losing or people having more fun than them. All The Collector wanted was to play and have fun, but was punished for it because his siblings abused The Collector’s naïveté and made it look THEY were responsible for the other Titans…going extinct. And being falsely imprisoned for thousands of years tends to leave one a little agitated, as well as overly excited to be free and let loose. He didn’t do better because they never KNEW better, with Luz understanding that after just ONE real conversation with the kid. She was as freaked out as anyone else when first meeting The Collector, but, just like with Hunter and Amity, the more Luz got to know him the better she understood why The Collector acts the way they do. Everyone has reasons for their actions, some of them more justified than others. And even for the unjustifiable, it’s not too late to turn things around.
Lilith’s redemption still has some issues. Again, I VERY MUCH went over that enough. Yet it again comes with the best intentions of proving that you’re never too old to change. Lilith cursing Eda was wrong. VERY wrong. But she at least admitted to it and put the work into making up with her sister, already off to a great start by sharing the curse with Eda. Sure, Lilith still felt aggravation towards Eda and would occasionally act a LITTLE stuck upish, but the more Lilith stuck around the more it’s revealed how desperate she is for approval. Even a quick bit of Lilith making a little ice sculpture of Luz as a teacher giving Lilith a gold star speaks VOLUMES of her need for authority figures to give Lilith approval. Even if said authority figure is a fourteen year old who just knows more about glyph magic than Lilith. It also helped that Lilith had Hooty there, bringing out her best and bringing some levity in her life. It makes her from thinking that she’s at the lowest point of her life to realizing that life just got started for her and that she CAN make improvements, have better connections with the people, and can be a kinder person instead of a cold, stick in the mud. And with each episode we see her in Season Two, Lilith DID get better as a character and as a person, finding her true self and proving that you don’t NEED to be dragged through the coals forever to better yourself…Even if a sick part of me kind of wishes she was. I just feel like everyone forgave Lilith a little too fast, and while improving herself is fine, forgiveness is a completely different thing. But I also went over THAT enough, so I’ll just stick with the fact that while Lilith’s redemption is the most flawed here, it still does the job to prove that people are never just one thing forever.
People can change, and a lot of the time it’s for the better. They might have done things they’re not proud of or learn to regret, but everyone has a reason for it. Whether it’s how they’re raised to act, how their goals blind their morals, and quite literally didn’t know better. For these people, it’s always best to give them a second and maybe even third chance, especially if they have a clear desire to change. Some certain cynical sycophants will sometimes say that a character shouldn’t be redeemed because they don’t deserve it, but that’s not really how redemption works. It’s not about DESERVING redemption but proving you’re capable of it. When a show paints how a character is always bad and needs to change yet consistently goes back and forth on them being better or worse without much apparent growth, then that’s where it becomes a problem within the story. But if the show reveals layers to a character, proving that they’re flawed but good deep down and allowing that character to better themselves throughout the story, then it’s writing the message correctly. There are cases where there’s a good person deep down a LOT of hot garbage, with a lot of morally dark actions burying them deeper, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t forget that bright light of a human being that still wants to do good and trying desperately to claw their way out of their own pile. It’s…a complicated metaphor, but people are just the same as that: Complicated. We can grow and be better, it just takes time and love to do so. Although, to teach a message like that to kids, it is important to make one thing clear…
Some people don’t deserve redemption/forgiveness
This is the most ESSENTIAL distinction to make when writing a show about bringing the best out of others and getting them to change and redeem themselves. Yes, there are people capable of being good but there are still people out there who are too far gone to change or refuse to see how they’re a problem on all accounts. You can reason all you want with them or try your hardest to bring them out into the light, but no matter what you do, they’ll still refuse to accept that they’re the problem.
Kikimora is a perfect starting example of this. “Follies At the Coven Day Parade” was our first and…honestly, It’s our ONLY insight into there being more to Kikimora than a psycho who’s very okay with child murder. Luz catches Kiki getting stressed over not being able to see her family due to her duties being more important. The Owl House has done more with less when it comes to trying to hook viewers into sympathizing with characters worthy of redemption. I mean, just look at what they eventually try with Boscha. Besides, you don’t need a BIG reason to help someone into the light. As long as it seems like there’s a GLIMMER of a hope, then that can be enough to make it justified to help them. It’s only dependent on how quickly that glimmer gets stomped out that you realize mistakes were made in helping someone. To Kikimora’s credit, it seemed at first she was grateful for Luz and the others to help her be free of the Emperor’s Coven, even if a little annoyed by their flawed plan and ridiculous antics. It’s not until Terra (We’ll get to you in a sec) mentioned a promotion did Kikimora’s true colors show. When it seems like she’s at her lowest, Kikimora is willing to find an out so she doesn’t get disposed of like your average Golden Guard (Which she might have always known about?). But when it seems like she has a chance to be on top? Well, then Kiki will say her family could rot for all she cares if it means she’ll be seen as the best of the best. It’s that desire to inflate her already big ego, mixed with the insane drive to do so, that proves how Kikimora isn’t one to change because she has no desire to. Her only desire is to look out for herself and do what’s best for her, but to a selfish degree that often leads to others getting hurt. To Kikimora, the only problems that she needs to take care of are those who try to prevent her goals of reaching to the top. And she’s not the only one.
It still amazes me how Amity desperately tried to convince Odalia not to assist a genocide. I said it before, and I’ll say it one more time: This was Amity’s last attempt at proving that her mother isn’t evil. And we all know how well that turned out. The reason that it amazes me that Amity even TRIED because…there hasn’t been an ounce of kindness that Odalia showed to anyone. With Alador, there’s at least SOMETHING, whereas the nicest thing Odalia did was compliment on Alador’s work. Still, even then, it isn’t much given that she didn’t really know how much Alador would appreciate the compliment. So if Odalia never acted good, why bother reaching out? Well, as I’ve said several times before, it’s hard for a child to accept that their parent has ZERO good inside them. Amity wanted to see for herself, once and for all, if there’s really NOTHING good in Odalia and the answer…was exactly what she needed to hear. Even if it’s baffling that Amity tried to reach out, it’s still good that she did. It’s always important to at least TRY instead of giving up on someone outright. Amity more than anyone knows that not everyone is completely bad, so it’s great that she and kids watching understand that sometimes what you see really is what you get. A better example of this is Terra.
No one really tried with Terra. Specifically, no one in the CAST tried with her. The most people did was try to reign Terra in and tell her NOT to kill children and that didn’t really change anything. The fact that Terra RELUCTANTLY agreed just proves how deranged she is and how no sane person would want to change her. The writers knew this as even they didn’t try giving Terra that many layers outside of a crazy person who liked torturing the youths. And given that this is a series that loves showing how most of its characters are layered with a few of them deserving redemption, it’s perfectly fine to show one that’s one-dimensional and bloodthirsty. It helps sell the fact that not EVERYONE is redeemable, like having Season One Boscha act as a one-dimensional bully to make Amity’s redemption more digestible. You got to show a bigger bully to prove how the other isn’t so bad, and that’s what makes Terra so important. She’s the bigger bully, and her actions prove that while SOME people are capable of change, others like Terra are more than fine with who they are. And I’ll give Terra this, at least she’s sociopathic enough to understand she’s the bad guy and LOVES that about herself. Unlike others who genuinely believe what they’re doing is for the greater good.
Belos is the best example of how some people will just NEVER change. It’s never too late for one to redeem themselves in some way, but Belos has been living among witches and demons for CENTURIES. He had hundreds of years to see that there’s nothing wrong with who they are and take note that they’re kind people just living life and not really hurting anybody. Instead, he focused on the bad parts. The witches who made him dance for his book. Lilith, who punched him in the nose. And, of course, the witch who stole his brother away. These all circle around in his brain for as long as he lived, ignoring the TRUTH behind these responses. The Fang brothers and Lilith only treated Belos that way because he killed the Fangs’ brother and put Luz and Lilith in danger for his own reward. As for Evelyn, she didn’t STEAL Caleb away, he willingly followed her to a new world. Yet Belos refused to see anyone else’s point of view and that witches were ALWAYS the problem. Never him, and not anyone else. So he dedicated his entire life to fulfilling his plan, mutilating himself and becoming less human by the day, all so he could wipe out witches and demons from existence. He justified it because of his idea of the greater good, believing he was some tragic hero pushing himself to do what’s best for humanity. In reality, he was just a sad old man who never took the time to ask “What if I’m wrong?” And if he DID ask that, well, he likely suppressed that thought deep, deep, DEEP down inside himself so he wouldn’t have to think it again. Belos was a monster that would never change because he didn’t think he needed to despite having all the time, all the chances, to see that he could be wrong only to deny and refuse any other possible answer. Not even Luz, who forgave most of her enemies, wasn’t even willing to give Belos a chance, appealing only to his ego instead of his humanity as she knew full well he wouldn’t listen. The only person who really tried with Belos was The Collector, a child who learned the concept of kindness and forgiveness for the first time in their life and didn’t know better. If that doesn’t say a lot about Belos, I don’t know what does.
It’s always important to preach the message of helping people better themselves. There are good people in this world and it’s admirable to help those who want to be good but need to learn or relearn how. However, not EVERYONE is going to be like that. One way or another, they don’t see themselves as someone who needs to change. They either think there’s nothing wrong with them or believe that the rest of the world should change itself first. You can TRY to reach out to them and maybe you’ll succeed in some way with a few of these people. Just don’t feel too disappointed when it turns out that some people are too broken to fix. In that regard, there’s not much you could do to help them and you’ll often find yourself fighting against them. And you might want to make sure none of those people get too big of a dangerous job, because you’re not going to like what they’re capable of. You’ll see why in this next theme.
The ones who make the rules are sometimes the most dangerous
Not ALL the time, mind you. There are SOME nice people running things…probably. But not EVERY person should be in charge. There are those who abuse the system for the chance of lifting themselves up higher or hurting those whose only crime is existence. They have their “reasoning,” but it always boils down to excuses in some ways. It’s always based on “How they’re raised” or “It’s based on what their religion says.” While that explains their actions, never does it justify anything they’ve done as it’s a weak shield against the arguments about their moral character. Your upbringing and religion doesn’t stop you from coming across as a turd nugget, and if you’re wondering who I’m calling out with this, it’s the kind of people that Belos represents.
The absolute tragedy is that there are people in real life who are a lot like Belos. It’s just that he’s exaggerated for a storytelling effect and to keep things simple for the kiddos. Regardless of that, he still acts like those you’d see and hate. He’s a maniacal, manipulative leader who made the ranks through lies, smooth talk, and telling people what they want to hear. Because when you act like you know better than others, and do so with enough confidence, you’d be surprised with how easily people will be convinced to follow someone who speaks nothing but nonsense. And nonsense really is the name of Belos’ game, as he manipulated a group of people’s sacred beliefs and formed a religious oligarchy just so he could kill those he was manipulating in the first place. As far as my admittedly limited political knowledge goes, there hasn’t been a person that’s gone THAT far, as most of them actually believe the crap they’re saying. It’s just Belos who manipulates beliefs to get his way. The Witches consider the Titan their god? Then he’ll use that god to make them think he’s unhappy with how witches use magic. It’s similar to how people use the “It’s not what God would want” when making their stance on other people’s rights, except it’s not THEIR god that Belos believes in. He’s a puritan who thinks that all these sins he’s committing to the people of the Isles is worth it because it’s what HIS god wants. And for the record, I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with believing in God or any god for that matter. But if you really believe that God would want you to kill others to appease him when his teachings boil down to love and forgiveness, then I don’t think you’re worshiping God the right way. That’s something Belos doesn’t realize, as he would twist his own soul into a pretzel for the sake of his “holy mission.” Yet that mission was nothing more than a shield to hide behind his discrimination. Much like other “leaders” in the world.
Am I projecting how I see certain scumbags on social media onto Belos? Most definitely, but I feel like Dana Terrace is most certainly doing the same thing. Look at any conservative online and tell me that they don’t have similar mindsets to Belos. Because to me, they definitely do, and it’s the way Belos transformed the Isles that makes me worry about those real life dingles. Especially with how REAL the Isles feel in that regard. Oh, things seem fine. In fact, things are relatively normal with people living their lives without any real negatives. That is, as long as you join a coven, otherwise you’ll be marked for death if you break the one important rule. Everything seems to be alright for everyone who stays in line and follows the rules, much like real life society. We can live normally and be at peace as long as we ignore the problems that exist, do as we’re told, and never CONSIDER straying from the path. And that acceptance of how things are is exactly what the bad guys in charge use to get what they want. They spread their message to those who WANT to listen and are fine with what’s being preached, all while painting those who say otherwise as the purest of evil. When, nine times out of ten, it’s usually the person preaching that crap who turns out to be the real scumbag. They don’t want you to think differently or question why things are the way they are, either because they don’t want their own place in the world to be challenged or, like Belos, they actually believe that people who are “other” are actually evil. It’s why he gave these people, who were initially content with their lives, a system that seemed to encourage in-fighting, proving that you’re the best at a specific skill, and letting others climb to be the most powerful in the world for the sake of their god. Belos devised a way for witches to basically fight each OTHER, temporarily playing the long game so he can stall until finding a way to kill them all at once when his time was starting to run out.
I wouldn’t say that the show is ENTIRELY anti-government. If it was, the ending wouldn’t have implied that Raine and Darius have basically started their own. To me, the show is more likely saying that you need to be careful in who you put your faith in to lead you. Not EVERY politician is evil, but none of them are saints either. A lot of them have ulterior motives for letting them lead, with a person like Belos showing just why we should be wary of who to trust. Belos may be an exaggerated worst case scenario, but one that’s very much possible if we don’t prepare well enough to stop those just like him. As for who’s who, well, that’s up to your own beliefs and research to find out. Just remember that even though someone is in charge, that doesn’t mean they have your best intentions in mind. Though, keep in mind, this is mostly about the people in politics. There are authority figures you should be wary of, but most of the ones who know you personally are trying to keep you safe. It’s the ones that have known you for years. Ones who want to make sure you’re having the best life. And while they’re not always right, there are some out there who want to do right by you. And what authority figures are those? Why, your parents of course!
…Look, I wrote myself into a corner and I needed a good transition into the next theme. I know parents are nowhere NEAR the same government officials or those who uphold the law, but they at least uphold the law in YOUR house. Though, some of them aren’t perfect at it.
Parenting isn’t easy
There are a LOT of parents that do their best in this show. The only real exception is Odalia because…she’s Odalia. It’s the rest that shows they’re doing all they can to give their children a better life. Willow’s dads are willing to give up their jobs to continue Willow’s education when she’s expelled, Perry wants to support Gus’ talents, and, hell, even one of Boscha’s moms seems desperate to be a part of her daughter’s life by asking to join in on the Moonlight Conjuring. There are some decent parents in this show, but not a lot of them tend to get credit for their efforts. Mainly because, in some cases, their efforts aren’t good enough to those who’ve had…similar experiences that turned out for the worst. Those types of people tend to not feel good when a show says, “Give your parents the benefit of the doubt.” You can…already tell where this is going, and I want those fans to know that their emotions are valid and, if I were in their shoes, I would feel the same way. However, I think there’s some value in how The Owl House tries pointing out a parent’s love is the most essential part done right, even if some parents tend to fumble at first.
Starting with the most forgiving, we have…Camila.
“LE GASP!”
DO NOT get me wrong: Camila is still the best parent in the show and one of the best cartoon moms of all time…That doesn’t mean she hasn’t made any mistakes. In fact, Camila acknowledging her mistakes is part of what makes her one of the best parents. She was a single mother trying her best to raise Luz right, but got lost along the way due to how OTHERS perceived Luz, not so much how CAMILA saw her. She loved Luz’s wackiness and oddities, it’s what made Luz…Luz. Camila was just worried because not everyone would feel the same way, and that would mean Luz would not fit in with…anyone. And with everybody judging Luz and even judging CAMILA, it left her feeling pressured to make a change to fix the situation. Her fault was that Camila decided on sending Luz away to a camp in an effort to help her daughter, only for that to make Luz feel like SHE’S the problem. It’s not what Camila intended, but it’s how her actions came across, and it immediately left some bad tastes in some fans’ mouths. Some of it was very unwarranted as too many jumped on the hate wagon by calling Camila a bad mom who doesn’t love her daughter despite a fair amount of evidence pointing to the contrary. Still, when she does things like send Luz away or unintentionally guilt Luz into thinking she can never return to the Isles, some fans can’t help but see their own dismissive or possessive parents, even if Camila isn’t meant to be like that. She’s a mother trying her best and made a few mistakes along the way. She at least learned from her mistakes, managed to be better, and was given more depth for why she acted this way. And her character was certainly more well-received than other problematic parents doing their best.
If you couldn’t guess already, Gwen and Alador are the other two. I’ve said ALL that I’ve needed to say about them, there’s no need to stretch it out further, and so I’ll just speed by them. Firstly, they’re both characters where you understand the intention the writers were going for. They’re meant to be parents who genuinely love their kids but went about supporting or helping them the wrong way. Gwen was a mother who wanted to cure her daughter’s curse at all costs due to the pain it caused Eda and the rest of the family. She just ignored Eda’s feelings about the matter, not being satisfied unless the curse is gone FOREVER. And all that ignoring led to Eda distancing herself from Gwen because of all the intense and ineffective treatments, with an extra side-effect of Gwen ignoring Lilith because her problems weren’t as “important” as the one she caused. Though, that last bit might have been a thing long before the curse. At least, that’s what’s implied. Her actions were less than ideal, and to some fans, it would take more than a single “I’m sorry” to make things right. Unfortunately for Gwen, she never really got a chance to prove she’s forever changed like Camila did. Outside of redeeming herself at the end of her introductory episode. The next time we see her, she drops the news to Eda that Dell is about to visit, giving Eda no time to mentally or emotionally prepare herself for her father’s arrival. It was done with the best of intentions and Eda would have refused until the day she died anyways, but it’s still the same as Gwen showing up unannounced with a new and “totally legitimate” cure. Camila at least put in an effort to be okay with the Isles, even if some aspects freak her outyears after her first visit. But that’s the benefit of being a character who was allowed to grow and change because the writers found a way to include her in the main story. Gwen didn’t have that luxury, with the show barely having enough time to fit her in at all. I feel like the reason for that was because the writers didn’t have plans for Gwen outside of her introduction, so they just hoped that what she did in that episode would be enough. And…it is for a mostly one-off character, but it causes SOME reservations with fans due to the years of damage and neglect Gwen partook in. I would still personally say that what she does is enough, but I’m a person who didn’t have a mother problem like Gwen, and the fans who did are likely going to respectfully disagree with me. Though, I feel like I can confidently say that Gwen’s mistakes are an easier pill to swallow than Alador’s.
Alador is very much not an improvement as he constantly stayed out of Odalia’s way and did what she said to make her happy so she wouldn’t do anything WORSE to the kids. Even though what she already did wasn’t all that great to begin with, Alador kept telling himself that Odalia will somehow be even worse if she doesn’t get her way. He tried to SUBTLY steer Odalia off course, but still did next to nothing to really stop anything she’s done. He does when she finally goes too far, but to some fans’ eyes it’s too late. Now the question is: Is Alador stopping Odalia from assisting a genocide and promising to do better ENOUGH to accept? And to some fans…the answer is no. It’s a good start, but it’s hard for some people to accept an apology that seems to come too late. It’s even harder to accept because the show’s about over and there’s next to no time for Alador to improve himself as a good parent. I get that he WANTS to, but wanting to be a better parent and actually being one are two different things. Trust me. The epilogue hints that he did well enough for Amity to still be happy to see him, it’s just that we don’t get to see that change for ourselves, thus making it a harder pill to swallow that he’s really a good parent.
It is a good thing for kids shows to say that parents are doing their very best. I’m willing to say that there’s a VAST majority of parents who actually love their kids, even if they sometimes make decisions that could unintentionally upset the child at first. It’s nice to tell kids that their parents still love them, and it gives the parents watching The Owl House a chance to see some of their mistakes be painted negatively and it’s not too late to change. However, there are still teens and young adults who DIDN’T have the best parents growing up, and they’re going to be slightly willing to resent some attempts to make imperfect parents better. It at least works with Camila, with only those who disagree being fans who hyper-focused on her worst attributes and ignored her most nurturing moments for the sake of just…hating her, I guess. Ever since “Thanks to Them,” the hate train for Camila has LONG since left the station with barely any passengers on it anymore, and it’s all because of Season Three having her confront her mistakes and improve on herself. We don’t get that with Alador and Gwen, so saying that they’re parents doing their best doesn’t really cut it because we never got the chance to see what their “best” ever was. Both have their moments that make me appreciate the effort, but they’re a case of the intention being better than the execution, making this a lesson that needed better planning for its other parents. Though, in fairness, the lack of proper preparation for making imperfect yet loving BIOLOGICAL parents MIGHT have something to do with The Owl House LOVING the Found Family trope…
Family is more than blood
Ah, the found family trope. Something that’s genuinely wholesome every time it’s used. Whether it’s outcasts and weirdos finding acceptance through each other or poor sad sacs finally experiencing love for the first time with someone who isn’t a blood relative. The Owl House loves this trope, especially with its main trio. I’ve said…pretty much all I need to say about these three and how important their love for each other is. Their bond is at the core of what makes the show so compelling, and seeing them be happy together is what makes watching The Owl House great. On top of that, it also does a job of showing that you don’t need to be a child’s birth parent to be a GOOD parent.
Eda’s a surrogate mother to Luz and an adopted mother to King. Neither of them are her flesh and blood, but she will ALWAYS treat them as such. At least, she eventually does. Initially, Eda kept pushing the label of Luz being her APPRENTICE before sticking with calling Luz her “kid” and would treat King more as a pet before seeing him as a son. It’s partly Eda not wanting to accept that she likes having people in her life, and partly because the writers were not a hundred percent sure about character dynamics until almost halfway through the second season. Regardless, by the time everything is all figured out and accepted, Eda basically starts to become mom of the year. She prioritizes Luz and King’s safety above anything else, takes time out of her day to get those kids the things they need on the day-to-day, and will get extra murdery when someone so much as THINKS about hurting her babies. It gets to the point where if the pressure of her kids being in danger becomes too much, it’ll cause Eda to break, making her one of the few cartoon parents who absolutely refuses to let her children get mixed up in the danger. The parental figures of shows like these tend to accept that it’s something the kid HAS to do or begrudgingly goes along with it because…it makes the plot easier. Even the parental figures who tell their kids to be cautious when approaching danger tend to still bring their kids into said danger. With Eda, she’s the rare case where I’ve seen a mother actually cry from stress over worrying about her children, which proves how strong her love is for Luz and King. You don’t need to be a biological mother to love your kids, and Eda proves it. As well as a certain someone else.
I do want to gush about how Camila is the mother Vee never had, taking the poor little snake in when she had nowhere else to go. The problem is that there’s not really a greater focus on it, but, at the same time, there doesn’t need to be. We understand everything from something as simple as Camila running to hug Vee when she reveals her new form. At first, Camila may have been put off by the SURPRISE of Vee, mainly because the reveal of a snake demon pretending to be her daughter was a bit too much for her. But after calming down and seeing Vee for what she is (Which is a scared teenager with boatloads of trauma), Camila agrees to let Vee stay with her because the girl has nowhere else to go. That very act shows off Camila’s kindness, sure, but the little bits we get in “Thanks to Them” shows that this is more than a woman offering a teen a place to stay out of the goodness of her heart. There’s that first hug I’ve mentioned, sure, but we also have Vee learning Spanish fluently and a picture of Camila proudly teaching Vee how to make empanadas. It makes it seem like there’s a genuine effort to make Vee a permanent member of the family, with Camila not seeming to be against it. And her final hug to Vee at the end of the special cements that she’s more than happy to have Vee in her life, which is further confirmed in the pictures we see in “Watching and Dreaming.” Vee became a permanent part of the Noceda family, joining in on family outings and graduating with Vee in pure glee. She hasn’t been with them long, but Camila and Luz love Vee like a mother and sister would, being something that’s so genuinely heartwarming to think about despite how little we see in the show…It also feels more earned when compared to Hunter and Darius.
I still appreciate what was MEANT to be done with Hunter and Darius, don’t get me wrong. It’s sweet to give Hunter a father figure and someone to consider family outside of Belos because…it’s Belos. Hunter deserves SOMEONE to love and guide him outside of Flapjack, and Darius is revealed to be someone that was strict but understanding about Hunter being a teenager. Plus, with the information that he was close with Hunter's predecessor, and the knowledge of what happened to previous Golden Guards, you can take this as Darius wanting to keep his friend’s memory alive through Hunter. The potential of what they could be is there and what we see is still good. I really do enjoy that Darius seems ready to take Hunter in after Hunter was ready to accept that he has no one, even taking interest in Hunter’s love of wolves the second he talks about them. It’s certainly charming…but we also barely see any of it. More than that, we’ve hardly seen it built up. I know the same applies to Vee and Camila, but here’s what they have that Darius and Hunter don’t: Time and close proximity. Even when they’re off screen together, they’re still together and you can imagine the bonding they MUST be going through, even if they’re off-screen. You can’t live in the same house with somebody and NOT form some kind of connection with them. For Hunter and Darius, while they MIGHT live in the same castle, but they’re often both busy with duties and responsibilities to even TALK to each other. At least, that’s what we can assume from these two. Camila and Vee seem significantly less busy with one another, so it’s easy to imagine that they have all the time in the world to chat and bond. Hunter is rarely in the same room as Darius unless in uniform. I get that Darius cares for the boy, what with how overprotective he got and ready to rain hell once learning that Hunter’s in Belos’ mind too. But that’s the only real big showcase of their bond between “Any Sport in a Storm” and “Watching and Dreaming” that so much as hints to their relationship. It’s a decent attempt, but it’s another one of those things where I wonder if it’d turn out better if we had more time.
Regardless, it’s still an effective theme. Only a third of the found families here were allowed to have a lot of attention on them, but Camila and Darius were still allowed a chance to prove their loving parents despite not having a lot of time to show it. Familial love isn’t JUST defined by the blood one shares. It’s something experienced the exact same way through adoption or considering someone to be close enough where they might as well be family. Blood’s not all that binds us, and it’s sweet for the show to say that, not only for the kids looking for a new home but also for ones looking for an out from a hostile environment. They WILL get a better life with people who will love them regardless of being related or not. And it’s not just a familial bond you’ll get from people out in the world. Because while you might currently feel alone without anyone there to understand or love you, just know this:
You’ll find your people
This one…really applies to a lot of the characters in the series. One way or another, they each experience a state of loneliness at some point, having no one in their life for a period of time to then having the closest companions and romantic partners that make things…better. These are characters that likely thought they’d never find anyone, but they’ve either now have one person or a group of people that make them feel seen and heard as an individual. And I could go on entire essays about these characters…but this whole sticking thing has gone on long enough, so we’ll lightning round these examples.
Luz was your average nerd that no one understood, with her antics being too weird for anyone to even want to associate themselves with her. That is, until she found herself in a land that’s weirder than her, yet ironically remaining a social outcast due to her being the only human. Yet she still manage to befriend almost every person she met, with all of them showing up to celebrate her birthday. It made Luz go from the loneliest girl in her grade to basically the leader of her own squad of losers and town sweetheart to the lives she saved.
After losing a friendship with Amity, Willow spent a lot of her time all alone and struggling to catch up with others, bullies in particular calling her half-a-witch. But we already established where this led her. She got two personal cheerleaders and a boyfriend that all express how amazing and talented Willow is, having blossomed into the badass she is now. She even repaired things with Amity, making a friendship that’s stronger than it was before.
Older kids used Gus for his intelligence and didn’t respect him for his age. Now he’s the personal cheerleader of a whole group of friends who have his back and value both his input and needs.
Amity may have had “friends” like Boscha and the whole mean girl clique, but it never felt real to her. She was surrounded by people, but never felt more alone until meeting Luz and understanding what real love and friendship felt like. It made Amity want to be better as a person, giving her a chance to rekindle a friendship with Willow and making things better than they’ve ever been.
Hunter had NO friends his age, only having a bird as a companion that he had to keep secret from his controlling, bloodthirsty uncle. It wasn’t until the bird kept pulling Hunter in the right direction did he manage to become friends with a girl who acted like an annoying sister, a new best bro, and a crush turned girlfriend, all inspiring him to stand up Belos and be his own person. And also Amity was there.
Vee had next to NO ONE in her life, and she was a monster in the Boiling Isles that was hunted down by Belos. By coming to the Human Realm, not only did she find peace, but she also found a family, made easy friends, and became part of a group that likely makes her feel a sense of belonging she never experienced before. And you know what? Good for her.
Throughout Hexside, all Eda had was Lilith, which implied that not a lot of students were a fan of her chaos. That is, until she met Raine and finally had someone who both understood her as well as wanting to join the fun.
Speaking of Raine, they were a top student for sure but one that was looked down upon/underestimated due to being a bard witch. Eda was the one who saw their potential and talents, being an easy first friend and eventual girlfriend who brought more excitement to Raine’s life.
It is HEAVILY implied that Camila was a closeted nerd who never had anyone that understood her until meeting Manny. Those two geeks assuredly bonded over their shared interest in Cosmic Frontier, making Camila feel loved and understood by a man that I REALLY wish we got to see in canon. Just one flashback or SOMETHING!
Lilith likely didn’t have any friends in Hexside, though it’s possibly by choice. She focussed more on studying and being better than her sister, with that mindset carrying over to the Emperor’s Coven as she won’t give up unless EVERYONE recognized her for her talents. Friendship took second place to those needs, and, for all we know, means that Hooty is her very first real friend. And that’s sad because…it’s Hooty, but at the same time it makes their friendship all the more beautiful with how much Hooty makes Lilith happy in a time when she felt like there was no one who’d face her let alone like her company.
And finally we have The Collector, who was alone for EONS, wanting to just play games and make friends. The only snag was that he was too powerful and needed a guide, with King stepping up as the role of The Collector’s (forced) best friend. And while the job wasn’t the BEST position, King grew fond of The Collector, making them feel fuller as a person.
Like I said, a LOT of characters felt alone for so long. The good news is that they eventually found those who made life better just through their company alone. And that’s good to teach–GREAT, even. Because it doesn’t matter how long it takes for those who feel so alone. Whether you’re a teenager or even an adult, you’ll find people in your life who will effortlessly make you happy. You just gotta let them in when they find you and allow them to make life better. For some of you, it might be hard to let friends into your life because you feel too damaged beyond repair. And for that, there’s another thing to remember…
Love heals all wounds 
On top of being lonely, a lot of characters tend to be…emotionally broken. At the very least, a lot of them needed a hug more than anything ele. At most, they need a whole new life with people that actually understand the importance of love and kindness. And I…pretty much just speedran my way through most of those characters, as well as thoroughly going over the two biggest examples in this show throughout every part of this dang review series. Amity and Hunter are their best selves now because of the new friends that they made and the families they formed. Most of their baggage, bad behaviors, and worst memories are darn near forgotten due to those in their lives making things better. I’d just be repeating myself to an excessive degree if I went further with these two. They’re the best examples for sure, explicitly showing how much a person can become better off with someone showing them what love feels like. The same goes with, like I said, a LOT of characters on the show. Luz was in a depressive state, one that made her question whether or not people would be better off without her, and was only healed through reassurance and reconfirmation that people loved her and are happy BECAUSE she was in their lives. Eda was a person that pushed away everyone in her life, from families to romantic partners, until she had two kids in her life that gave it meaning and encouraged her to reconnect with those she left behind. And do I even need to explain Vee? The connections we make with people is only important because of the love we share with one another, in a variety of ways. Romantic, platonic, even familial, a person saying “I care” can do wonders to a person’s psyche in ways you don’t even know.I should know. I speak from experience as a person who often felt like no one cares about him or his existence. It means WONDERS whenever I hear someone say they value having me around. Reassurance that you’ll find your people is one thing, but being reminded that the love you get from them is as essential just feels…so right. Because, yeah, of course relationships and love go hand in hand. It’s part of why The Owl House is such a delight to see and why this next and final theme hits so hard. And while I say final theme…it’s really one of the first things the show ever had to say.
“Us weirdos gotta stick together”
On top of being lonely and desiring love, The Owl House is a show of outcasts. As Luz puts it best, they don’t fit in anywhere so they just fit in together. Our main trio, of course, are the primary examples of this. King’s the last of his species with delusions of grandeur that makes him difficult to socialize, Eda’s a criminal wanted by the Emperor for not joining a coven, and Luz was the weird girl in school that became too much to handle. The three of them never really fit in anywhere so they found unity through each other. They’re the only ones who really knew and understood each other better than most people and would go through so much if it meant making one another happy. They were weird, but that’s what kept them united as people who can be their true selves while being…mostly unjudged. There is some teasing and some questionable looks, but it often comes from a place of love as these three would do a lot to make each other feel loved. And it’s not just with their group. 
Luz took Eda’s words to heart, setting out to form a weird little group of her own. She went out to make friends who were social outcasts as well. You have Willow, the powerful girl who couldn’t get good enough with one type of magic, getting ridiculed by both peers and faculty. And Gus, a magical prodigy who is OBSESSED with humans. Both of them get along great with Luz, appreciating her siliness and joining in because it was fun for them. What’s even better is that they’re not the only weird bunch in school. The Detention Track kids also came together, due to a shared “oddity” of wanting to learn more magic by combining different kinds of spells. They went about things the wrong way and were definitely a little too chaotic, but that’s just what kept them all so close together. And “Any Sport in the Storm” showed them making new friends outside of their group, more so with Viney as the episode mostly hints that the same applies to Jerbo and Barcus. Speaking of Viney, though, she managed to become close with Gus, Willow, and surprisingly Skara, all of them sharing an understanding of being underestimated in one way or another. Weirdness tends to attract more weirdness, with The Owl House saying it’s a good thing. It furthers the theme about how you will find your people, with these little groups proving that you’re never too weird for EVERYONE. And, even further, your weirdness can inspire others to let out their inner weirdos. Amity was allowed to be a more of an open nerd, sharing her love of Azura with Luz, and Hunter was allowed to take interests and show off how he enjoys something without worrying about how others judged him. In fact, NONE of these characters worried about how they were judged as people because of the company they keep. Most of them may have been a little odd, but they all felt seen, heard, and appreciated for who they were. But that remains a final question: Who WERE they?
What does the show mean with the word “Weirdo?” What are “weirdos” meant to represent? There’s the obvious answer in saying that it’s meant to be more literal, saying that the show is speaking to anybody that’s more or less odd or goes against the grain, in a way. Although, even then, what does that mean? What counts as weird? Is it weird to be a fan of something you love? Is it weird to be unpopular or to not shine as brighter as others? Is it weird to…love someone…who happens to be the same gender…?
Maybe I’m overreaching, but this is where my mind goes when the show says “weirdos.” It’s a very vague term that can apply to a lot of people who don’t feel like they fit in for a variety of reasons. Stuff like loving a certain thing or loving a certain someone COULD fit into that and it makes the message of sticking together all the more important. Because it’s true, weirdos should stick together. Whether you like it or not, we’re all in the same boat. People will look down at us as if we commit the worst crimes, when all we did was act as our unique selves. We didn’t hurt anybody, we never PLANNED to hurt anybody. We just want to be allowed to exist, and it’s perfectly fine to find unity through that desire of existence. No matter how you’re seen as weird, from who or what you love, to the way that you act, and the way that you talk, you’re allowed to be who you are. We don’t like being judged, so we shouldn’t judge others who just want the same things we do. So unite, because us weirdos have got to stick together.
And that…is that. That’s all the things I figured that The Owl House tried to say to the kids. I may not have gotten EVERYTHING, but these are what stood out to me and they’re the lessons that I love most to have come from the show. If there’s any theme you want discussed, then by all means share. Tell everyone how there’s more to this series that makes it stand out from all the other kids shows with a point. And, more importantly, how it does it well. Because at the end of the day, while the messages can be a little muddled, I wouldn’t say that The Owl House has anything bad to say. At all. Its heart is always in the right place, and that’s what I personally admire most about this series.
Speaking of admiration, I’m running out of things to talk about why I love this show. So, tune in next time for the FINAL PART as I discuss more of what does and doesn’t work with this series as I finally conclude why I love it so much. It’s…likely going to be emotional, so see you then.
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ace-malarky · 5 months
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I do think it's very funny I almost finished all five prompts in one month
and the only reason I didn't is because. uh. well you see.
I still had to work? I think? yeah that tracks
Anyway I've got like half of one left and then rather than picking up the next list I am going to Focus on the things I have half written, won't that be wild?
So rather than jumping to a new character every time we're just gonna knuckle down and clear up some drafts
I hope you're ready for a whole lot of Llinos, Kaua and the gang
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shwarmii · 1 year
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i just heard one of my favorite youtubers say this meme out loud in a video and the pronounciation FLOORED ME so now i gotta know:
poll is just "which way do you say it"; tags is "which way is right", assuming your answer to "which way is right" is different to "which way do you say it". or i guess tags are also for uhhhhhh if your answer is complicated and if you wanna explain, if you have a diff way of pronouncing (pls tell meeeee), or whatever else you want, im not your parents, idk
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inkblackorchid · 5 months
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Hi! How do you feel about the Crashtown mini-arc?
Ahhh, Crashtown. Honestly, I’m extremely in two minds about the arc. See, here’s the thing. When I watch it, it’s a great deal of fun. It’s a very self-contained little story that has all the necessary setup and payoff built into itself, and the cowboy aesthetics in Crashtown’s unique setting, while technically still being part of 5Ds’ largely futuristic canon, are absolutely hilarious. Not to speak of the excellent dramatics, what with Kiryu being in his depressed bitch era and needing the Power of Friendship to remember why it’s nice to be alive. So, in isolation, I find Crashtown very funny and its self-contained story compelling.
However, sometimes, I get a little frustrated knowing how many episodes this arc takes up, because where the larger narrative is concerned, Crashtown accomplishes… Well, nothing, unfortunately. It doesn’t interact with the main plot in any way, doesn’t develop Yusei’s character in a particular way (because we already knew he’s a special kind of loyal-as-a-dog-devoted when it comes to Kiryu; if anything, Crashtown only shows us that he’s also a little more gullible than usual when Kiryu gets brought up), and while it does give Kiryu meaningful character progression, he’s sadly never relevant again after this point in the show (literally the only two times he shows up after this point is during the flashback of everyone cheering Yusei on during his duel with Z-ONE and in the epilogue as he loses to Jack). Worse yet, the whole arc begs the question of why only Kiryu and no other dark signer got this kind of tying-up-loose-ends treatment. (The answer, I believe, is that he’s specifically the dark signer who has the strongest ties to Yusei in particular, which awards him special treatment. That does nothing to justify why Carly, who I’d go as far as saying is at least equally important to Jack as Kiryu is to Yusei, doesn’t get anything like this, though, and is instead sidelined because she has amnesia. You know. Amnesia. Everyone’s favourite trope. Which Kiryu, curiously, also doesn’t have.) And considering how often I lament about the things I wish 5Ds canon had spent more time on, I don’t think it comes as a surprise that it leaves a slight, bitter aftertaste in my mouth that an arc like Crashtown that adds nothing to the larger plot or any character other than Kiryu gets so many episodes while many things I wish the show had addressed don’t get a single one.
So, Crashtown’s kind of a mixed bag for me. I think the best way to sum it up would be this: If you handed me the reins for a full 5Ds rewrite, one of two things would happen. Either the show would gain another twenty or so episodes where I’d try to give all the other dark signers similar treatment as Kiryu in Crashtown, developing both them and the main cast members they interact with more (and also try to make them at least show up one more time before the Ark Cradle arc, even if only to cheer Team 5Ds on during the WRGP), or Crashtown would be left on the cutting room floor entirely, because if the only way to improve the main cast and plot were to find time for all the necessary adjustments within the exact same episode count we already have, Crashtown (and all of the pre-WRGP arc’s pure filler episodes) would be the first thing to go.
Don’t get me wrong, the yeehaw arc has excellent aesthetics, excellent dramatics, and is great fun every time I rewatch it, so I don’t fault anyone for loving it to bits, I absolutely get it. My inner overanalyst/canon rewriter just can’t unsee how many episodes it took up that were desperately needed for other stuff sometimes.
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autistic-britta-perry · 8 months
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getting emotional over like. the existence of trans people. I just like I hope this comes across well but my first ever feelings of rightness with my body and of like a type of beauty that I want and that would give me joy were all pictures or fictional portrayals of transmasc and non binary people watching the second half of that one ruby rose video as a teenager. watching ma vie en rose and replaying the scene which in she and a masculine 'girl' switch costumes watching trans coming out videos. Watching Carmilla and seeing Lafontaine saying 'I don't want to be Susan anymore' watching a youtuber I followed have top surgery and how happy they are and how right the chest looks watching Yael in degrassi put a binder on and replaying the scene of them seeing their flat chest and lowering their hands over it like a hundred times listening to one of my favorite songs ever that's all about loving your body despite not being what you wanted reading stone butch blues. listening to ring of keys and feeling something swelling on my chest
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Burns Like Rum
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.
Word Count: 7,840 words
Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet
18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock
Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.
The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.
He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.
It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.
But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.
You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.
"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.
Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.
And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.
You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.
"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.
"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.
"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"
You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.
"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"
Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."
She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."
You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."
You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.
It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.
The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.
She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.
"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.
She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.
You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"
"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.
But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"
"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."
Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.
Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.
He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.
You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."
From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."
He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."
"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.
"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."
You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."
"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.
You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.
Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"
"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.
Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"
"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.
He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.
"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable
"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."
He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.
"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.
Astarion sighed. "...Night."
~❊~
You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.
You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.
"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.
"Stop what?"
"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.
Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"
"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."
You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"
Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."
You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"
"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."
You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.
His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.
"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."
"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"
Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.
"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.
Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.
"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"
"I could go for a little," you said.
Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.
You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.
He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.
"You're starving, aren't you?"
"You have no idea," he whispered.
"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."
Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"
You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."
His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"
A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.
Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."
"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.
He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."
~❊~
Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.
You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.
You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."
Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.
He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.
A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"
You nodded. "Just a bit."
Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."
You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.
"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.
He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.
"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"
Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."
Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.
"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.
"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.
You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.
It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.
Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"
You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.
The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.
"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.
You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.
Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"
You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."
"Are you ready?"
You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.
Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.
One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"
"Please do," you said.
"Arms up."
He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.
"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.
"Yes, dear?"
You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."
He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.
"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.
You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.
"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.
You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"
"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."
Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.
Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.
The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.
"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"
You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.
Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.
Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.
He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.
Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.
Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.
"Look at you," he whispered.
The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.
He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.
He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.
You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.
"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."
You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.
You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.
"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.
He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.
"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.
He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.
"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."
Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.
He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.
You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.
Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.
Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"
"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.
He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."
He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.
You smiled. "There's more where that came from."
Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.
You nodded. "I can take a few more."
He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."
You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."
The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."
He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.
Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.
He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.
"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.
You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."
The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."
You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."
He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."
You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"
Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.
"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.
Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.
You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.
You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.
"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.
He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.
Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.
Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.
The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.
Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.
You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.
But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.
He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"
You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.
"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."
He snorted. "Excuse you!"
"It's all over your face!"
He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."
Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."
He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.
"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.
"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"
Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."
You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.
"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.
You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"
The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.
"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."
He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."
You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.
His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.
His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."
You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."
Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.
"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."
He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.
You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.
When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."
You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."
You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."
He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."
Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.
You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.
He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"
~❊~
You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.
Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.
Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.
You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.
You were wrong.
Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.
"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.
"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"
You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"
She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"
"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."
She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."
You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.
You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.
Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"
You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"
"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"
"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"
You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."
Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.
"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.
Astarion smirked.
"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."
He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.
Karlach squeaked.
"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."
"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."
You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"
Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.
A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.
"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.
You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."
Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"
Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"
"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."
"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin
part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}
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delta-lethonomia · 5 months
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There's a reddit thread on the BG3 sub where the user u/InklingRain posted a spreadsheet they made with all the companion approvals. Super useful in general both for playing the game and for fic, so I thought I'd post it on tumblr and play around a little!
There's a top row with the average approval by companion, but I didn't find that very useful, so I changed it to the count of approvals (i.e. count of approvals & disapproval total, how often a companion had a reaction to something). We all know Astarion gives a lot of disapprovals here and there, but they're only -1 at a time, so no big deal, right?
No. Minsc has the least at only 45 reactions, Halsin at 95, Minthara at 145, and of the main companions, Gale is pretty average at 198, Lae'zel at 224, and Shadowheart, rather opinionated at 258...
but that's nothing compared to Astarion's 406. That's almost 150 more than the next person!!! That's more than Minthara and Shadowheart combined! Babygirl really woke up one day and decided to get in a snit over everything that happens 😂
(Longer post about count of positive and negative opinions, sum of approvals and disapprovals, and some major outliers below. Picture with values at the very end.)
But that's a bit disingenuous. If we look at the ratio of positive to negative opinions (not taking value into account), Astarion's pretty average at 30% (negative count over sum count, so let's call that negativity). This is similar to Gale (31%), Karlach (30%), and Lae'zel (32%). In theory, getting Astarion's approval or disapproval is just as easy as any of theirs, with a 20% bias towards positive approvals. Later companions are weighted heavily towards the lower end of the spectrum, with Jaheira at 13% negativity and Minsc at 9%. As you only get them very late, it's pretty clear that the game gives you a lot of opportunities to get their approvals and thus open up more of their quests and dialogue.
However. We have an outlier. Wyll Ravenguard, clocking in at an indecent 38% negativity! Which really just goes to show, while Astarion is the most opinionated, Wyll has the most disapprovals, making him the judgiest companion of all 🤣
However, this really wouldn't be a good post if we didn't look at the value of approvals. Karlach, for instance, has the strongest disapproval value of -100 (given if you sleep with her and then call it a mistake). Ouch. This is clearly at outlier and doesn't say much about Karlach's changeability of opinion in general. If we look at the sum of positive and negative opinions, this is a very heavy swing, making up 100 points of her total 191 disapproval points possible to her 281 approvals total. Another outlier is Minsc, who currently possesses a 43% disapproval percentage (a heavy -50 disapproval given if you sacrifice him to Sarevok. Jaheira, by contrast, apparently doesn't give a damn, or her value might simply not be included in the dateset.)
Removing outliers is really a matter of opinion here, so I'll only remove the most extreme swings, such as the above mentioned disapprovals.
The otherwise strongest swings are Astarion (-15 for telling him it was a mistake preventing him from drinking Araj's blood, or saying you only wanted to sleep with him, not deal with his trauma) and Wyll (+20 for siding with Karlach during his confrontation with her, which really shows he didn't really want to kill her and is very grateful you stopped him). Halsin gives +40 for reuniting Oliver with Thaniel, which...lifting the shadow curse is sort of his life's mission, and a bit of a unique case, so while it makes sense, I think it's such a unique event that can't be topped by anything else and will remove it. Jaheira give +20 for extending the Emperor's protection to Minsc, and, for funsies, Minthara's heaviest disapproval is -5 for donating to Lolth at the Stormshore Tabernacle. (lol)
I only chose to remove the aforementioned Karlach, Minsc, and Halsin values, as they're all very large swings and rather character-defining or personal to the individuals mentioned, so I don't think it says much about them in a more general day-to-day sense.
Now, using the sums of our negative and positive values, Gale is our most Negative Nancy, clocking in at 37%, which goes to show that while he's pretty average for the amount of things he cares about, when he disapproves, it's a strong one. Next up is Astarion at 35%, and Wyll at 34%. Lowest are Jaheira and Minsc at 7% and 4% respectively, which makes an intuitive sort of sense: Jaheira is old and just over being upset by the players poor choices, and Minsc is an insanely positive person overall. The next most positive companion is Halsin at 13%, which also matches with his vibe pretty well, followed by Minthara at 17%, Karlach at 24%, Lae'zel at 26%, and Shadowheart at 28%.
Tl;dr: Astarion has many, many opinions, but Wyll is the most judgemental (most disapprovals compared to approvals possible). However, when it comes to the strength of those disapprovals, Gale reigns supreme, followed by Astarion.
If don't break Karlach's heart, help Halsin achieve his life's ambition, or sacrifice Minsc, then they're pretty positive overall. Later companions are heavily weighted to approve of your actions, and Minthara is comparatively judgemental, but overall far more easy to gain approval than disapproval from.
If you take the average of all these values and include the later companions to look at as a personality "baseline" of how judgy and how strong those disapprovals may be, then...the Act 1 companions are all dramatic af, which really should come to no ones' surprise, while Karlach is the most willing to give the benefit of the doubt imo.
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soaps-mohawk · 5 months
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go
Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 10,232...oops
Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff
A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate. 
What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest. 
No one can help you. 
You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place. 
The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked. 
The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 
You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover. 
Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens. 
How long has it been up there? 
You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you. 
Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat. 
You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room. 
You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious. 
You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk. 
A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed. 
You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing. 
Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden. 
You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn. 
Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.  
You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you? 
You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick. 
You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here? 
The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic. 
You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again. 
“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?” 
You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything. 
You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen. 
Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too. 
“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 
There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.
“Is everything alright?” She finally asks. 
“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.” 
It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously. 
“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says. 
“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.” 
“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?” 
“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 
You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine. 
You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction. 
You just want to feel at home again. 
You want to be safe again. 
***
The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.
You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat. 
You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening. 
Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it. 
You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping. 
You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room. 
You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in. 
You need tomorrow to come, and fast. 
***
Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort. 
All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position. 
You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed. 
That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along. 
The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 
You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission. 
You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do. 
You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so. 
You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer. 
She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?” 
No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety. 
But what if she gets mad? 
Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on. 
You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything. 
“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.” 
You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days. 
“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you. 
You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you. 
“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?” 
“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.” 
Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?” 
“I-I’m sure.” You reply. 
There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.” 
You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong. 
You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions. 
You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it. 
You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still. 
They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid. 
Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare. 
One of many. 
You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again. 
At least, until they have to leave again. 
You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return. 
***
Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again. 
You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright. 
You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again. 
John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain. 
His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again. 
“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head. 
You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm. 
He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here. 
“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.” 
You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first. 
“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again. 
“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.” 
You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain? 
“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.” 
Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him. 
And so you do. 
Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body. 
They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe. 
Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact. 
***
“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller. 
“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.” 
“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.” 
“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.” 
“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks. 
“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.” 
“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces. 
“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.” 
“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand. 
“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center. 
John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far. 
“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving. 
“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently. 
You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back. 
He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment. 
Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task. 
So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you. 
Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea. 
Or maybe that was their plan all along. 
He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out. 
Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave. 
He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them. 
Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you. 
***
You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.
“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you. 
You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking. 
John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth. 
You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you. 
“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says. 
Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up. 
“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. 
Even though they're back, you still don't have them. 
You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”
John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea? 
Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start. 
You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up? 
You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door. 
Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it? 
You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late. 
You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving. 
You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement. 
You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief. 
“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene. 
Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure. 
“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking. 
“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.  
He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either. 
“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.” 
Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”
He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before. 
You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general. 
Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification. 
Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room. 
“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be. 
And here you are making things worse. 
“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone. 
“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.” 
You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand. 
Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you. 
They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened. 
You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds. 
This is your life now. This is your new normal. 
“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet. 
You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again. 
Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours. 
It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.
***
You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket. 
“Can you breathe under there?” 
You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke. 
“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?” 
“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything. 
“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.” 
He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal. 
“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek. 
You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened. 
The dark thought sends a chill down your spine. 
“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit. 
John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it. 
He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous. 
You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest. 
His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down. 
“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.” 
“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”
You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control. 
“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”
You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation. 
At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it? 
You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside. 
He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting. 
You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.
Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger. 
The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.
The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha. 
***
“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk. 
“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them. 
Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore. 
John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him. 
“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”
“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch. 
“No promises.” 
Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else. 
He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too. 
He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them. 
He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again. 
John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided. 
Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling. 
“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”
“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him. 
“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”
“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes. 
“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”
The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle. 
Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress. 
Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses. 
“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long. 
“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now. 
He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence. 
An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger. 
He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.” 
He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor. 
“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.
“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door. 
“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office. 
He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time. 
“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”
“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters. 
“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.” 
John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds. 
If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives. 
John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room. 
Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind. 
You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again? 
Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded. 
Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help. 
Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle. 
How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them? 
Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet. 
He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure. 
John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold. 
Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again. 
Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress. 
“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie. 
Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you. 
It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most. 
NEXT ->
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2K notes · View notes
togenabi · 1 year
Text
pick me up
roronoa zoro (opla) x reader
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♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.
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word count♡— 3.2k
genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader
content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread
also on♡— ao3
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author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!
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“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing. 
“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”
Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed. 
“Because they were overbored!” 
Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes. 
You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”
The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”
“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”
“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.
Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”
The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.
“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.
The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince. 
“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”
“...”
“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.
Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”
“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”
Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.
“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?
But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.
“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group. 
“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.
You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.
“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.
“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.
“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.
“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze. 
“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”
Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.
Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.
You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”
“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.
“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure. 
Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him. 
Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”
You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”
“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.
“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”
Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.
Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards. 
The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”
Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”
You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”
Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink. 
Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.
You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.
“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.” 
And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.
“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you. 
As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.
“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.
“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”
You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.
“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”
You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”
Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”
That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”
She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”
“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”
“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”
You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”
“Of course, my gem.”
“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”
The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.
After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.
“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”
“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.
“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”
“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”
“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.
You almost wish you didn’t.
“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.
“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.
You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.
…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?
“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”
“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”
You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.
But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.
You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”
Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”
You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.
Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”
The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.
You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.” 
“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.
“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.
“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”
Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.
“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit. 
“I’d like that.” 
Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.
He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.
In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”
Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.
Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”
“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.
“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.
“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”
Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”
Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.
“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”
“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”
“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.” 
Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”
“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”
Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.
“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”
Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion. 
“I have an idea.”
When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart. 
But unfortunately for you, he had other plans. 
You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”
“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?
You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now. 
But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?
“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.” 
You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?
“...Can I be part of your future?”
That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.
No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did. 
“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.
“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
“You said I always stick to your side.”
He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”
“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”
That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”
Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”
His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else... 
“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.
Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders. 
“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing. 
“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.
After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.
“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter. 
“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise. 
You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.
“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.
Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)
“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.
“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.
“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”
“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.
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euphoriaslux · 5 months
Text
two’s a party.
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summary: you recently transferred to stanford, and decide to tutor a tennis player in your class. he has a friend. severe indecency ensues.
word count: 3.3k
warnings : smut, threesomes, f!oral receiving, swearing, smoking, drinking. slight cuck energy if you squint (i’m sorry ((no i’m not))). no challengers spoilers!
a/n: this fic got away from me big time but this movie has rotted my brain and as a result i have written utter debauchery that i will not apologize for. just had to get this out of my head, enjoy!
-
stanford science hall. monday , march 3.
You swear the last thing you’ll hear before your body is lowered into your grave is the process of lactic acid breakdown.
It’s 2:30 PM. Kinesiology 189 with Professor Wilson, a lanky middle-aged man with a PhD in exercise science and a half-grown beard that you don’t think will ever fully grow in, is almost over. He’s teaching Extended Studies of the Human Body in a humid classroom filled with student-athletes, most of whom are trying to stay awake, trying to hide that they’re taking a nap, or making no attempt to hide that they’re on their phones. You don’t really blame any of them, because the professor’s voice is so soft and monotone that it feels like he’s begging everyone to pay attention to anything but him. You’ve managed to stay somewhat on course with the thread of today’s lecture, the notebook in front of you filled with scribbles of incomplete molecular structures and somewhat legible drawings of the muscular anatomy of a hamstring.
This class is required for your biology major since you’re on a pre-medicine track. You don’t know why you’re doing it, the whole doctor thing, but you’ve developed a weird fixation for this class. The functionality of the body, how muscles stretch and tear with each movement, and how amino acids work to build them back even bigger.
And, possibly because of the tennis player who sits four rows ahead of you every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
His last name is Donaldson. You know because of the faded label on the massive bag he throws on the floor every time he walks into class, at least ten minutes late with a backward Stanford Tennis cap on his head. His first name remains a mystery, partly because he never talks in class, and mainly because you’ve made no attempt to speak to him. You like to think it’s because you’re so focused on the curriculum.
Professor Wilson knows your name, though, since you’re in his office hours every Thursday at 11 A.M. In part because he gives out most of the answers to his homework, and because you just transferred to Stanford your last year and very desperately need a letter of recommendation for medical school. Hence why you agreed to tutor a student with lower than 60% in the class during one of your meetings. And why everyone in the class was staring at you right now.
“... first come first serve, so reach out to her sooner rather than later.”
You give a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room. Most people have looked away, back to their distraction of choice, but you meet eyes with the fluffy blonde-haired tennis player.
stanford library. wednesday, march fifth.
It’s 11 A.M., and you feel like your brain is about to explode if you look at another practice set.
“Hey”.
Your head whips around to the harsh whisper, only to be met with the blue-eyed mystery from your class. He has that large bag slung over his shoulder, with the end of a tennis racket peeking out of it. His hair is slightly stuck to his face, and his compression tee is slick to his chest like a second skin.
“Hi,” you whisper back. He smiles before tossing his bag on the floor and sitting in the chair across from you, either unaware of or completely ignoring the glares he’s receiving from the other students studying.
“You know,” he pulls out some kind of nutrition bar from his bag, unwrapping it and taking an aggressive bite, “for someone advertising their services, you’re pretty hard to find.”
“You’re in Mr. Wilson’s class, right?” you ask, hoping your subdued voice will remind him that he’s in a notoriously quiet place. He hums, pointing at you with his half-eaten snack.
“And I’m trying not to fail, but you didn’t leave your number anywhere in the classroom, and you bolt after every class. So how am I supposed to patronize your tutoring services…” he trails off, his volume the same level as when he walked in. You furrow your brows as he leans back into the chair.
“That’s when you say who you are.”
You feel a burn on the back of your neck as you tell him your name. He glances down towards the problem set you’ve nearly finished.
“How do you turn in any of those, I can’t get halfway through one of them.”
You pause for a moment before leaning slightly across the table to whisper:
“This new weird thing called studying. I think it just got approved by the CDC.”
“Very funny,” he shakes his head as reaches for your binder with your class schedule printed out on the front of it.
“Why are you taking so many bio classes?”
“Because I’m a biology major,” you can’t help the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Sorry, you’re making this too easy for me,” you raise your hands in conceit.
“I have practice every day at five so you can tutor me for like an hour beforehand,” he says before standing up, crunching up the silver wrapper and stuffing it into the front pocket of his blue jeans. You scoff at his sentence.
“Well, thank you for so generously fitting me into your schedule,” you roll your eyes, turning the page in your textbook. He grins.
“Tell the coach you’re there for Art. They’ll let you through.”
stanford tennis courts. friday, march 7th.
It’s 4 PM, and the California sun is sweltering. Your shorts feel like they’ve become a part of your legs, and your bag feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. By the time you make it to the tennis courts Art is already on the green concrete, shirtless with beads of sweat dripping down his face and chest. You hear his grunts as he sprints across the court, hitting the ball toward a slightly taller brunette with dangerously short red shorts. You watch them at the entrance for a few minutes, slightly entranced as the two play so seamlessly, as if they know every move the other person is going to make. You force your eyes away as you walk up the bleachers, stepping over leftover water bottles and chip bags to sit down and grab your notes from your backpack. It takes a couple more minutes for Art to notice you, yelling your name after he turns around to grab a ball his partner had hit particularly hard. You wave, and he says something you can’t hear to the brunette before the two of them jog across the courts and up the stands to where you are, blocking the sun as the two stand side by side.
“Who’s your friend?” you ask as you stuff the problem set you were working on in between the pages of your notebook.
“I’m Patrick,” he says, with a toothy smile and his ears poking out from under his hair. He has a bit more of a boyish charm to him than Art does, whose eyes are glued to his brunette counterpart.
“Are you in Mr. Wilson’s class too?”
Patrick opens his mouth to answer but Art speaks first, slightly pushing his friend with his shoulder as he says “He doesn’t go to Stanford, too busy being a tennis pro.”
Patrick rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t leave his face. You notice how different this Art feels from the one in the library, how direct his playfulness is and how close he and Patrick stand together, their sweaty torsos nearly melding together.
Interesting.
“Like, Andre Agassi level pro?” you smile as the two of them laugh. Patrick raises the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead, and you can’t help but take a glance at the exposed skin just above his waistband.
“Sorry, he’s like the only tennis player I know.”
“No, no I’m taking that as a compliment that you think I’m on the level of Agassi. No takebacks if you see me play,” Patrick points at you.
“Will do,” you salute, turning over to Art.
“You ready to study?” you ask him as he makes a comically loud groan, his head falling back. Patrick laughs, reaching over to ruffle his friends hair.
“You do remember that’s why I’m here, right? Midterms are in two weeks.”
“I definitely have not forgotten that.” he says. You purse your lips just as Patrick’s eyes seem to light up.
“I’m staying at the Courtyard Hotel for the weekend. You two can come over and study, I need to review my last match anyway. Kill two birds with one stone,” Patrick suggests.
“Just studying?”
“Just studying,” Art says, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulder. You glance between the two of them, trying to decipher the unspoken communication they seem to be doing. But you can’t crack it, so you shrug.
“Sure.”
“Let us finish this set, and then you’ll have me all to yourself. Sound fair?”
“Wow, what a privilege. Don’t take too long, it’s hell on Earth out here!” you yell the last part as Art jogs down the steps and back down towards the net. You look up once you realize that the sun is still being blocked, and Patrick is still standing in front of you.
“You ever play?” he grins, flipping the tennis racket in his hand.
“Tennis? God, no, that would not be a pretty sight. I’ll stick to what I’m good at,” you gesture to the books and notes in your lap. Patrick nods.
“If you ever want to learn, I could teach you sometime, you know if-” he’s cut off by Art yelling his name, and you both glance to see him with his hands on his hips.
“Go, don’t keep your boyfriend waiting,” you wave him off, and you swear you can see him blushing. Must have been the glare.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder as he runs toward Art.
courtyard hotel. saturday, march 8.
It’s 11 pm. There’s a cold shiver in the elevator as you wait to get to the fourth floor, your tennis shoes tapping against the floor as one hand plays with the handle of the pack of beer in your hand while the other crumples and re-crumples the piece of paper with the hotel room number Patrick scribbled on it.
what are you doing?
You don’t have time to think about the consequences of your actions as the robotic voice signals that you’re on the fourth floor, the elevator doors fluttering open. It’s like your feet have a mind of their own, as you find yourself almost mindlessly wandering through the hotel halls until you’re planted in front of room 4B. You raise your hand to knock on the door but before you can make contact with the wood it’s thrust open, and Patrick is standing behind it. His dark hair is slightly tousled around his face, his striped shirt unbuttoned and his black boxer briefs low on his waist. He’s smiling, that same big smile as before, but his face is a little flushed, a gentle pink hue touching his cheeks. The two of you don’t say anything for a few seconds, as if you were both testing to see who would concede first to acknowledge the other’s presence. You raise the pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in your right hand.
“I brought studying fuel.”
You were never good at waiting.
Patrick laughs before he moves slightly out of the way to allow you to walk into his room. It’s small, with a queen-sized bed and a tiny desk, and the A/C emits an odd rumbling sound as it smacks against the window. Clothes and scorecards are strewn across the floor, and the scent of cigarettes permeates the room. You place the alcohol on the floor before deciding to sit on the bed, kicking off your shoes as you cross your legs. Patrick seems to stall for a moment, smiling to himself before closing the door behind him. He doesn’t lock the door, but you didn’t notice.
“Art’s not here yet?” you ask, watching as Patrick walks over and tears open the cardboard case, cracking open a can. Taking a sip, he leans against the desk as he smiles.
“Art can be bad with time.”
“As I’ve noticed,” you reach your hand out to motion towards the drink and Patrick hands it to you, staring as you take a large sip.
“Well,” you wipe the side of your mouth, “I told him to bring the topics he wanted to study, so I guess we can’t do anything until he gets here.”
Patrick nods with a slight pout, his fingers playing with the pop tab of the can. “I guess we can’t.”
“How’s tennis… stuff,” you laugh as you finish the question, not sure of exactly what to say.
Patrick seems to tense a little at the mention of the sport, moving over to sit next to you on the bed. His knee grazes your leg and you feel a slight buzz at the contact as he takes the beer from your hand.
“I’m kinda fucking it up right now,” he says, and you furrow your brows.
“How? You were like, really good yesterday.”
He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He hands you the beer and you finish it off, placing the empty can at the bottom of your feet.
“I’m good with Art. It feels so fucking natural and easy with him. But in my other matches, I don’t know. I just … can’t replicate it.”
You nudge him with your leg.
“Sounds like you two were made to play tennis together.”
He makes a noise of agreement, his hands slowly moving to ghost over your thigh.
“You and Art are pretty close?” you ask as he plays with the bottom hem of your shorts, but he doesn’t say anything. You take his silence as a yes.
“Do you ever get jealous?”
“Of Art?” he asks, almost incredulously. You shrug.
“Yeah, or jealous of the girls he’s with. Either or.”
Patrick sits on that for a few moments before smirking.
“What’s mine is mine, and what’s his is mine.”
You laugh at that, a real deep laugh, and Patrick giggles next to you, the both of you tipsy from the can of beer you finished. You reach over and put your hand on his flushed face, rubbing your hand across his cheek.
“What were you doing before I came?” you feel his face warm even more against your skin as you position yourself closer to him.
“Practicing- or, sorry, rereading my scorecards from my last match.”
You tutted as you moved your hand to the back of his neck, gently running your hands through his hair.
“You can tell me the truth, Patrick.”
He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand before looking up at you as if to check if that was too much. Whatever your expression is gives him the confidence to move down to your neck, his tongue licking your skin.
“I think you know.”
You feel a pull in your lower stomach at his words, muffled by his mouth nipping at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and he sucks hard enough for you to put your hand around on his face at the pressure. Pulling his face up, the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and his eyes glance toward your lips. You wanted to wait, to make him beg and plead for it, but your body seemingly pulled you forward as your pressed your mouth onto his.
You were really quite bad at waiting.
He tastes like tobacco and faintly of the fruit medley in the dining hall, and you sigh as his lips interlock with yours and his hand grabs the back of your neck, pressing you into him. The kiss gets messy and hard, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and into your mouth as you lift your leg to straddle Patrick, grinding into him. He whimpers into the kiss as his calloused hands drop down to the waistband of your shorts, hesitating for a moment before dropping his hand into your underwear. You grind just a little bit faster as his fingers press circles into your clit, covering your mouth with your hand as you moan.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he uses his other hand to guide your hips, and your move your hands down to tug firmly on his hair. You can feel your climax building, the pressure in your stomach getting closer and closer to taking you over the edge-
You both jump at the sound of the hotel room dor slamming shut. Art is standing there, in that damn backward cap and a Stanford tee shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing as you and Patrick sit up straight, him adjusting his crotch and you smooth down your shirt, avoiding his gaze. Finally, the silence is broken by Art laughing.
“Christ, I’m not the cops,” he slips out of his slides as he waltzes over and opens a can of beer, drinking about half of it in one go. You look at him, and at Patrick, and then back at him, not knowing what the hell you just got yourself into.
“You want to fuck him right?” Art asks, and you can’t help your small gasp at how easily he said that. You glance at Patrick, hoping he’ll know what to say, but he’s just staring at Art.
“I-um,”
“So, no one’s stopping you,” Art cuts you off, taking a final swig of his beer and moving to stand directly in front of you. You open your mouth to try and explain, but before you can talk Patrick’s mouth is on yours again, his hand roaming your body. His grip is firmer now, his fingertips digging into the side of your stomach. He tugs at the bottom of your shirt and you separate, breathless as you pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Patrick’s mouth moves down to your neck, then your collarbones, and then your chest as he reaches around to take of your bra, and you feel on fire from Art’s gaze across the room. As Patrick kisses down your stomach and yanks down your shorts, you turn over to meet Art’s eyes.
“Come here.”
Whatever resolve Art was holding onto crumbles as he quickly takes off his shirt and slips out of his Nike shorts, tossing his hat on the dresser. In a flash Art’s hands are on your neck, tilting your head around to kiss you as Patrick lifts up your hips so he can take off your underwear. Art’s lips are softer than Patrick’s but he kisses you a little bit harder, his hand cupping the base of your neck. Somehow, they both taste the same. You moan into Art’s mouth as you feel Patrick’s tongue swirl around your clit, rolling your hips into his mouth as Art’s cock presses into your back. It’s just so much so fast, and that familiar buzz starts to pool in your lower stomach.
“Look at him,” Art turns your head to Patrick and you look into his eyes as you cum, Art’s hands hold your head forward as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Patrick’s hands are digging into your hips as he stares up at you and Art. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, leaning against Art as Patrick leans back up, his mouth a few inches from yours.
“Who do you want first?
2K notes · View notes
aklaustaleteller · 4 months
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Could you make an imagine where Klaus Mikaelson is the father figure to the reader despite not being her real dad? And her birth father came back trying to take her but Klaus wouldn’t stand for it and wouldn’t let him take the reader?
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Klaus had just been taking a stroll through the woods when he finds himself walking towards the sounds of a beta's broken sobs. Seeing the little abandoned wolf, Klaus takes her home with him, hoping that he'd be able to become her safe place -- which he very successfully does. But what happens when Y/n's biological father returns after ages in hopes of getting her back?
Warnings - None really, other than the fact that it's quite sad (but with happy outcomes I promise <3) Word Count - 4.0k
I'm so so so sorry for my absence the past whole week but hey, this is quite literally a 4k worded fic! So hopefully that makes up for it? (Also, thank you for the request, lovely anon. Please do tell me if you like it!!)
Also! I took the idea of Y/n's wolf being a little out of control from this very very amazing fic written by the truly talented @klausysworld Please do give the fic a read, if you haven't already that is, hahah <3
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Klaus had been taking a stroll through the woods, his feet carrying him just about anywhere while his mind sped through thoughts a million miles an hour. He made plans, then backed them up with another one, and then made another one, just in case. And he'd just lifted his leg to cross over a fallen tree when his body came to an unnatural halt.
He was never caught off guard, but right now, as he heard hushed sobs and a heart that was beating in a painfully broken rhythm, he couldn't help but gently continue his stroll – in a particular direction with an aim, this time.
His head tilted as he neared the source of the sound, his nose picking up on a beta scent. It had been way too long since he had come across a beta, his major interactions occurring with either other Alphas or Omegas, or Vampires. As well as some other species that rather got on his nerves, such as the witches. It intrigued him.
From quite afar, his eyes finally caught sight of a rather small frame crouched against the rough bark of a tree, a jerk shaking their body every time their back accidently met with it, followed by another painful but gritted howl.
But what made Klaus' frown deepen even further, was the sight of wolf ears growing from the person's head. He felt as though his eyes were deceiving him; he had never come across something like this and if he wasn't mistaken, he was pretty sure that this was just an untrained little wolf -- or perhaps it was the strangeness making him think that there couldn't possibly be another mythical creature that was actually all too real.
So, he walked closer, his head a little ducked and shoulders bunched up on either side of his neck as he tried not to make any sound as that would surely startle the ...child, he realised.
The little frame, sobbing into their hands with their knees bunched up against their torso, belonged to a child. A werewolf child who was beginning to lose control of their wolf, and just then Klaus noticed a tail curling up against the little one's back in order to provide comfort.
He flinched when some wood broke unde his step, alerting the little girl and his heart cracked like a drought-stricken land when she jerked and looked up at him with eyes so big, full of fear swarming them and so much sadness that he could drown in it and not be found.
She immediately backed up into the tree, hissing sharply when her back met the unruly surface but not once did her eyes move away from him. Her lips trembled, a fat tear rolling down her cheek against her will and Klaus noted that the girl could not be older than a decade.
Taking another step towards her, Klaus froze when her wolf ears went back in, and a sob broke out of her mouth.
"Please, sir! I will do whatever you ask of me, but please don't hurt me," she shouted at him, fully breaking down into heart wrenching sobs as she tried to get up on wobbly legs but fell to the ground right away due to the tremor coursing through her body.
Tears blurred his vision for a second before he took the final step toward her which brought him close enough to sit on his knees beside her and rest his hand on her head.
"It's alright, little wolf. I'm not here to harm you," Klaus whispered, feeling her body falling into shambles under his touch. But when she looked up at him with uncertainty in her eyes, he couldn't help but pass her a reassuring smile.
"You are safe with me, sweetheart," he said, now weaving his hand across her forehead to brush away the hair that stuck to it. "Yes?" He asked her with a soft nod, bringing her closer to his chest when she too, nodded. Her eyes were still uncertain but he could tell that it won't take long for her to let go.
This was a child, full of enough naivety to trust a stranger and Klaus was more than glad that he’d found her before someone else could’ve. And maybe his Alpha scent provided her with the extra comfort that she most likely needed, but Klaus wasn’t complaining.
So he rested his back against the tree this time and let her sit in his lap, his arms around her in a way that cocooned her away from whatever that had pained her so terribly, and ready to protect her from anything that came her way with poisonous intentions.
His heart clenched inside his chest when the little girl curled up against him, finally letting the sobs rake through her body and for all the sadness to cause havoc inside her little heart before it left her alone for good.
And for some reason, Klaus just knew to avoid her back. It was clear that she was hurt over there somehow, making him rub his hand up and down her arm instead, and rock the two of them side to side for a little bit. Slowly and slowly, her wails turned into softer sobs and then finally, Klaus heard her heartbeat go back to a normal pace again.
He looked down to see if she'd cried it all out, wanting her to tell him about the culprit who had hurt her like this but when he found that she had slipped into a deep, peaceful slumber, he didn't even think once before carrying her home with him, covering her up under his duvet while he sat on the sofa across the bed, looking at her and telling himself that there was no way he was going to be able to let her go.
He just felt something between them, something that brought them closer in a way he had never experienced before. He felt like he was supposed to love her, care for her, teach her all about the world and show her the wonders. He felt like taking her responsibility, giving her his last name and raising her protected from the world.
Perhaps it was because he, somewhere, saw his inner child in her. The child that so helplessly begged for just some love from his father and got the horrifying abuse instead. 
Klaus wanted to take her under his wing and be there for her while she grew up. He wanted this very clearly abandoned little wolf to call him her father, and his brothers her uncles and his sisters her aunts.
He couldn't sleep all night, fearing that she'd wake up and ask for her actual parents. And he knew he'd take her back in an instant if she wanted to, but it would tear him apart into uncountable and unrecognisable shreds.
And so, he waited all night for her to wake up and hopefully deny him when he'd ask her if she wanted to go back home. And Klaus would go to hell and back to build her a home; to become her home.  
But despite his stubborn decision to stay up and look after her, Klaus awoke to something soft and comforting touching his whatever exposed skin. And as he cracked open his eyes, the sunlight was already pouring inside his room and one of his blankets was draped over him. And he knew it hadn’t been on him for long as he had felt it sliding across his frame, and yet he couldn’t catch sight of the carer. 
That was, until he began getting up and he looked down to find the little girl, sitting beside his feet and looking up at him with doe eyes full of ...joy. He noted that the girl was happy to see that he was finally awake, her heartbeat picking up just a little as a smile slid on her mouth. 
“Thank you, Alpha,” the girl mumbled shyly, placing her hands on his knees while she began standing up. And Klaus’ arms instantly went ahead in order to prevent her from falling but she didn’t stumble once, reminding him that she probably had werewolf healing powers that performed with a slight delay due to her young age. 
Klaus opened his mouth to say something but when the girl warily wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the very tip of her toes to do so, he found himself caught off guard, once again. But regardless, he hugged her back rather tightly, lifting her off the ground and bringing her on the sofa. 
“Are you okay now, little wolf? Does it still hurt?” Klaus asked her, one of his hands cupping her face while the other cradled her. And his heart swooned when she curled up on him just like the night prior, but this time only soft breaths passed through her mouth. 
“The wounds have healed, Alpha,” she mumbled, almost hiding her face by tucking it away in his chest. “But my heart still hurts, I think,” her voice wavered as she confessed, now clenching his henley in her fist due to the unease it brought to her.
“Oh, little wolf,” Klaus sighed, his eyebrows turned into an upside down frown as he looked upon her with pity. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He whispered, cautious so she wouldn’t shut him off, even though she was too young to know of such a thing.
“My father, he – he kicked me out of the pack yesterday,” she told him with a quivering voice, tears beginning to pool in her eyes once again. “He told me – he said that he doesn’t love me… that – that he never has!” She cried out, a sob aching her throat and wrapping itself around it so tightly that it was almost beginning to choke her. 
“He said he doesn’t love me,” she repeated, her body now shaking in Klaus arms as his heart crumpled inside his chest as he noted just how much she cared and felt, and that she was having to relive it again right now. 
“Why did he kick you out, darling?” Klaus asked, wanting to end her misery and just a one line answer would be enough for him to go over and slaughter the entire pack.
“He wanted me to learn how to handle the pack once he wouldn’t be there anymore, how – how to be an Alpha,” she told him, tears flowing out of her eyes that had now grown bloodshot red. 
And just then, her ears popped out of her head once again, and Klaus couldn’t help but pet the welted ears in order to help her calm down. 
“But I didn’t want to! I – I don’t want to take charge after him!” She told Klaus, this time her voice changed its tone to be more convincing and desperate. She sat upright, trying to show Klaus just how much she’d rather work behind the scenes than take the lead officially.
“It’s okay, little wolf – you won’t have to anymore,” Klaus reassured the girl, weaving his fingers through her hair and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll be here with me, safe and sound, and I will love you, sweetheart,” he whispered, looking into her eys with the purest sincerity.
“I truly love you, little wolf,” Klaus said softly at recieving a questioning look from her, asking if he honestly meant what he was saying. “And I will always show you love.”
She brightened up at that, the shine of a couple stars returning to her eyes as she got up, but then saddened again. “But what about home?” She asked, her tears beginning to dry up on her cheeks as she wiped them away. 
“Do you wish to go home?”
“No,” she trailed off, looking away from his eyes as if guilty, causing Klasu to cup her cheeks and turn her back to face him. 
“Then I’ll be your home, little wolf,” he smiled at her. “Yes?” 
The girl nodded, quickly leaning in to press a kiss on his dimpled cheek. 
“What’s your name, darling?” 
“Y/n, Alpha,” she answered him, and Klaus wanted more than anything for her to call him her father or dad, but knew that he should give her some time. 
“Lovely,” he grinned, taking her in his arms and getting up to let her in the shower and then introduce her to the rest of the Mikaelsons. 
And it wasn’t long before Klaus found himself officially adopting Y/n, making her  a Mikaelson and his heart had swollen inside his ribs when she’d so shyly asked him if she could finally call him her father. 
Over the first couple months only Klaus noticed that her gentle and empathetic nature valued deep and personal connections with people over power and attention. He also learned that the reason she hid her high intelligence and outstandingness in whatever field she chose, was because that was simply ingrained in her beta personality. 
So, gradually, books all about betas began to fill shelves in their library quarter of the house. 
“Father!” Came in a shrieking voice, followed by his ears picking up on a rapid heartbeat and he was out of the bed in an instant, checking her over to see if she was hurt and he only shook his head when he found that Kol had just been chasing her around the house, early in the morning to keep her interest while Freya made breakfast for her. 
“Good morning, little wolf,” Klaus grinned, picking her up off the ground and spinning with her in his hold, pressing as many kisses as he could all over her face as she pressed her palm against his face to keep his stubble away.
Loud giggles and squeaks echoed throughout the mansion as Klaus brought her back to bed with him, letting her lay on top of him.
It quite hurt him that she was too tall to curl up on him now, but it still felt good when her heart pressed up against his despite the many layers of bones and skin and clothing keeping them apart. 
“Uncle Kol was chasing me with his vampire speed! Tell him that that’s not fair!” She whined, looking pointedly at Kol who was shaking his head at the door. 
“You’re a wolf, little one,” Klaus began, pulling her attention back on him. “You can outrun anyone,” he smiled. 
Y/n contemplated that for a second before she moved to sit upright beside him with a pout on her mouth. “Anyone but you, father.”
Klaus laughed at that, tackling her back into bed. “You do not wish to outrun me, now do you, little wolf?” He asked her, getting out of bed and letting her cling to him on his chest as he went downstairs. He knew that as a wolf, she preferred to nuzzle anywhere she found warmth, and that his chest was one of her favourite places. 
Sitting her down on the chair next to him, Klaus let her eat her food by herself. Sure, the honey did drizzle down her chin once but he didn’t mind, instantly cleaning it up with his thumb before it could’ve slipped down any further. 
Elijah asked her questions about the storybook he had bought her a couple days prior, Rebekah asked her if the girl wanted to help her aunt pick out a dress, Kol warned her against it by threatening to chase her and Freya smacked all of them on the back of their heads, telling them off to let you eat.
“Father, are you free to paint with me after this?” Y/n asked, looking at him with eyes that had truly unintentionally turned similar to a little puppy’s. 
Klaus finished his food, noting another thing that her shyness had truly dissipated into thin air. And all that it had left behind was politeness and some convincing eyes that could get the devil to let go of a deal.
“Of course, Y/n,” he smiled, getting up and grinning when she trotted behind him happily with her own empty plate in her hand. He watched as she put it in the sink and washed her hands and mouth, letting her chug down her orange juice for once as he wiped his own mouth. 
Once again, she followed him back inside his studio like a lost puppy. Klaus came back out with the heavier and the majority of supplies in his hands while Y/n skipped behind him with the paints and the brushes in hers.
Walking into the front yard, Klaus set down all of their stuff and sat himself in front of her, chuckling when he noticed that she’d already begun twirling her brush around on her canvas, not a single thought in her mind as she let out anything that flashed in front of her eyes, onto the paper. 
Klaus on the other hand, decided to make a painting of colours chosen from her hair. Every colour he saw in the midst of her hair strands, he put it on his canvas, slowly and slowly morphing into a tree’s bark.
And when he checked upon her canvas to see where her painting was going, he felt his dimples dig inside his cheeks at the sight of every and any shade of green that she could find – perhaps in his eyes, Klaus realized when she raised her head to look into his eyes and went back to working. 
Almost all of his days went like this, waking up to her running into his room after having had a shower, holding her in his arms for a little then taking her down for breakfast, where she would convince him to paint with her for a little.
After that he’d let her go off with Eilajh to read and learn some other things by Freya that she probably needed to learn. He would be out of the mansion during that, out to mind his business and kill his own minions because of their brave stupidity. 
When he’d return to the mansion, Y/n would sleepily trod out of her bed and into his arms, let him pick her up and take her to bed where he’d just hold her and tell her how much he loved her, because someone had probably already read her a story or two. 
Some nights she would wake up crying from a nightmare about her biological father, and then she would find herself running into Klaus’ arms which were already open, having heard her rushed footsteps and broken sobs. 
Her wolf ears no longer popped out since Klaus had spent an insurmountable time helping her take her wolf under her control, but every once in a while, depending upon how bad the nightmare was, her tail would creep out of her shirt and curl itself either around Klaus’ arms or her own back, which Klaus didn’t object at seeing that she only did this when she was crying in his arms.
But once they’d finish painting, Y/n would run into the house with her and Klaus’ painting to show them off to her uncles and aunts, leaving Klaus behind to clean up the mess. But he didn’t mind it one bit, only laughing when she’d come back looking guilty and saying that she was sorry that she’d once again forgotten to help him clean up in her excitement. 
And that’s exactly what had happened just now. 
“It’s okay little wolf,” Klaus assured her. “You know I don’t mind it,” he said and let her hug him to show him just how bad she felt.
He rubbed her back, and got up with her hand in his, looking down at the back of her head and smiling as she led their way back inside. 
“Wait father!” She paused her walking. “Look, the weather has taken a turn,” she stated, pointing at the sky in which angry clouds had begun swirling, the fluffy white ones long gone. 
“Does that mean it’s reading time?” 
“Yes!” The girl shrieked, jumping up and down, making Klaus laugh as she ran off to meet up with Elijah. 
He caught himself grinning long after she had left his line of sight and shook his head, a smile still pasted on his mouth as he turned around to rule over the so-called supernatural adults whom even Y/n was smarter than. 
“I see you’ve taken a liking to playing her father, Niklaus,” a rough voice said from behind, and while it hadn’t caught Klaus off guard, what had was the fact that this man was brave and dumb enough to step a foot in such close proximity to him. 
Surely, he must have come with a death wish. 
“Roman,” Klaus said out loud the name of Y/n’s biological father, his voice full of venom and he could’ve spat at the man in front of him. “I see you’re feeling daring today, perhaps even like dying?” He proposed, taking a threatening step towards the man. 
Klaus had, the very next night of when he’d found Y/n, went on to slaughter Roman’s entire pack. He had let the man live since he wanted him to see and live through his own daughter's hatred towards him. So much hatred that she didn’t even look his way anymore, let alone call him her father.
“Let’s not get this messy, Niklaus,” Roman started but before he could’ve finished, Klaus had him pinned against the very door frame he was leaning so cockily on. 
“I’m not your friend, Roman,” he gritted through his teeth, knowing that he didn’t need to clarify any further as to what he meant by that. 
“Sir,” Roman started, stretching his neck. “I want my daughter back,” he said.
Red flashed in front of Klaus’ eyes as he sped towards Roman, tearing through his flesh and ribs to clench his heart in his fist. “I would’ve been a fan of such bravery had you not made the mistake of calling her your daughter when she fucking refuses to even recognise you,” Klaus finally spat at him, his grip on his heart so tight that it could burst due to the pressure. 
“I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat if you dare once again to call my daughter, yours, or call your lame excuse of a self, her father,” he said, pulling on his heart lightly. “She is mine, and I love her and this is her home now.”
“I am her home,” he gritted his teeth so hard that they could’ve shattered. 
Roman’s frame was beginning to get blue, knocking the realisation into Klaus that his hold on his heart was so hard that it was struggling to beat. “Go to the opposite side of the world and never look back here again,” Klaus compelled him, finally taking his hand back out of his chest. 
“Now off you go,” he said, maybe shooed. “I am sure you know that a wolf bite can only be cured by my blood,” he hissed venomously, his eyes shining golden as vampire streaks drew themselves through his skin.
And once Roman had finally sped out, Klaus let out a breath and his heart to rest again, his hands trembling at the thought of what could’ve happened right now had he not been who he truly is. 
Rushing into his room to clean himself off, Klaus rushed back out to Y/n who was currently sitting in front of Elijah. 
“Little wolf!” Klaus called for her as he stood at the doorway of the room, his vision getting blurry when she came running to him with the biggest smile on her face. 
“Yes father? Missed me, didn’t you?” She giggled teasingly, wrapping her arms around him and Klaus couldn’t help but nuzzle in the nape of her neck, holding her tightly against him as he kneeled on the floor and felt a tear slip past the slit of his eyes. 
“I love you, my little wolf,” he said, whimpering. 
“Oh, I love you too, father,” she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “You should know that I’ll always be your little wolf.”
“Forever and always, my precious” Klaus breathed, pressing a chaste kiss on her cheek before resting his forehead against it for a moment, breathing in her scent and reminding himself that she’d also become his home now. 
1K notes · View notes
phas3d · 7 months
Note
Can you do slytherin boys head canons with ravenclaw reader who info dumps randomly
You're Smart || Slytherin Boys
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type :: fluff
tw/cw :: none
contains :: draco, tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo
summary :: you have a habit of saying fun facts and explaining everything in great detail while they listen - it's not super ravenclaw based but u can imagine it :) THANK U FOR REQUESTINGG RAAAHHHH - 🐍 :: masterlist!
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DRACO MALFOY
Hated it at first since it felt like you were trying to on up him
Would start to research more topics on his own to make sure you can't one up him on it
Turns this into a competition that's completely one sided for no reason LMAO
Stays up all night up just to learn the most niche and useless information of all time
But somehow, you always know more than him and beat him
Gets so frustrated by this because he can't stand not being the smartest know-it-all in the room
So he decides to try and make YOU seem stupid
Asks you super hard questions that no one could possibly know
But for some reason, you know it
This drives him even crazier cause he can't win LOL
But overtime, he grows to find it really useful and cute at times
He likes to see how passionate you are on different things
And he does like smart girls, so he starts to see it as a pro
TOM RIDDLE
Super annoyed by the fun facts and random info at the start
Mainly because he probably already knows it or he doesn't care for it
Because if he was interested, he would have searched it up already
So in his eyes, it seems like you're call him too lazy and dumb to want to search something up
So he tells you to shut up right away when he knows you're going to info dump
But sometimes, he genuinely doesn't know and he hates admitting that
He's super bad at social interactions, online culture, etc, so he does need help with those
But he's too egotistical to admit that
So he starts to just "ignore you" when you info dump
You'll explain the deep and complicated lore of Trisha Paytas and once you're done he'll say, "Huh? Oh I was spacing out."
But in reality, he was listening in depth and taking mental notes
So he starts to use this to his advantage since you do describe every very well
He starts to silently train you in a way
For example, he'll place a group of items in front of you, like a blue shirt next to a Slytherin hoodie
This will then remind you of Alvin and the Chipmunks so you dive into the deep lore of each actor
MATTHEO RIDDLE
Doesn't really care much at first since he's always been a bit dumber than other kids
He assumed everything you were saying was common knowledge and that he was just dumb
But when others start to mention how smart you are, he's surprised
He has a smart s/o :O
Well, he always knew that but to find out that you were smarter than a majority of people gave him a confidence boost
Starts to rely on you for every single question he has possible
Even if he knows the answer, he just wants to see if he's right
He likes it when you info dump to him
Surprisingly, he's a really good listener when it comes to you
Loves listening to you talk for hours on end
THEODORE NOTT
He's not much of a talker, so having you there to info dump on him is really amusing
You're like a walking podcast for him to listen to
Likes to ask you questions too so you can switch topics
He's super proud of seeing how smart you are
Theo is pretty smart, the smartest out of the Slytherin boy group at least (Which isn't that hard) (Tom doesn't count LOL)
So it's nice for him to finally talk to someone that doesn't ask dumb ass questions every 5 minutes
It's like switching his brain off so he can just listen to you talk and explain
It makes him feel safer with you to know that you're so smart and into so many things
He also loves it because it makes it so easy to buy you a gift since he knows exactly what you like :)
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
You're both kinda in the same boat which is amazing and bad
He's also into info dumping and telling you about the niche history he found out
But so are you, so you two end up clashing and having different ideas
Like for example, you were both info dumping about the brand new live actions Avatar the Last Air Bender and you both had drastically different thoughts
Lorenzo thought a lot of it was inaccurate but you were defending it with your life
But in the end, you both just shut up because you accidentally switch topics mid way
He loves asking you questions about niche topics so he doesn't have to research them himself
Likes listening to you talk while he eats
Sometimes he'll facetime you while he has dinner so he can listen to you talk
And sometimes he even calls you before bed so you can talk him to sleep :)
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thank you for reading ! 🐍 :: masterlist!
1K notes · View notes
nothomegal · 8 months
Note
HIII I MISS YOU :(( straight to the point, I need a yandere pyramid head fic!!
I´m sorry for the disappearance ;v; Can't post much due my studies.
Anyways, I ADORE your suggestion! And boy if our little (Y/N) is going to have a rough time with a yandere creature like Pyramid Head ._.)
Welp, let's start the story!
"Innocent lamb"
(Yandere!Pyramid Head x GN Reader)
Summary: the entity's realm was hell for some, heaven for others, and an inconvenience for the rest... But when one of the creatures encountered you, he made it everyone's problem, even the entity's that brough him there in the first place. But he meant no harm to you. He likes you. He wants you. He needs you. And he wͦ̀ͯi̸ll̩ͩ have Y̛̗̰͇͚͓͈̣͕̰͓̗͛ͤ̀̇̍ͥ͒̓͝Ơ̵̔_̰̅U̵̷̡̧̡̨͖̟̹͙̙͓̥̗̫̣̙͉͕͉̣̬̇ͭ͗̉͂̅̍͗̇̇́́̈͟͞
Warnings: yandere/obsessive behavior, violence and violent acts, quite angst(y) mood in general, (understandably) terrified reader darling :(.
Word count: 4.2k
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The moment they entered the trial, all four survivors knew right away who the killer was. Either its the dread they all felt as soon as their feet made contact with the ground that gave it away, or the fact that the entity had placed all of them in the same spot next to two generators just to have any chances to make it out alive.
But they know it's in vain, they know they're doomed for a long long death by bleeding out.
They know it... Because (Y/N) is with them.
Said survivor had to bite their lip to avoid crying, as guilt and terror embraced them. Just because the monster had this unholy obsession with them it didn't mean they were okay with it, if anything it scared them more.
He, Pyramid Head, the Executioner... Or however you want to nickname him, is said to be one of the most powerful creatures the entity had the pleasure to bring, so powerful in fact that the spider-like being had to make a deal to bring him.
So it's not surprising that they are absolutely horrified, but who wouldn't? This monster, an embodiment of pain and punishment, almost a god, has been hunting them relentlessly ever since he laid his gaze or... Helmet? On them.
At first it was all jokes and gags;
'Aww look, (Y/N) has a boyfriend!'
'Watch out, here comes your crush (Y/N)!'
'Uh-oh, the triangle man seems jealous, look how pissed he is at Nea for healing you!'.
But the jokes stopped when it got clear how truly messed up and sinister said 'crush' is.
They still remember it, it was a regular match against that one masked knife wielding guy that runs a lot, he's called 'Legion' they think. The trial was going relatively well, just like many previous ones. Until it suddenly got an 180° turn when one of the walls to the realm was literally destroyed by a hulking mass of muscle and a giant knife. To say both (Y/N) and the killer nearly had a cardiac arrest was an understatement, things got so ugly that the entity had to intervene and cut the trial short.
That incident could be a fuel for a new wave of jokes, could... If it didn't happen again. And that next time was even worse, the beast nearly made his way into the survivor side of the realm, somehow bursting through the barrier the entity had created to keep the survivors separated from the killers to avoid any pity fights after trials.
Ever since that event, Pyramid Head was strictly kept in 'his' realm, aka Midwich Elementary School.
Sometimes, after escaping through the gates and running back into the camp through the fog, (Y/N) could swear they can hear the monster roar in the distance. Loud, distorted and fierce howls resonating somewhere behind the dense fog, as if the creature was desperately trying to yell out their name. Either to let them know how badly he wants them or a promise to break free and get them... Both possibilities giving them chills.
The entity of course wasn't okay with this, it was pissed! But it also could do so little... The great deal now had turned into a major curse. If the deal is broken, the Executioner won't hesitate to damage the realm to get what he wants. But if it remains, the monster will find new ways to bend the rules and make it everyone's problem.
Why the entity doesn't just give (Y/N) to the beast or gets rid of them ones for all? No one really has the answer. Some think it's due the entity's pride, or the possibility of the executioner going ballistic. For now, it's more of a silent (and petty) battle between two stubborn beings, each of them refusing to back away from their goal.
Goal. The entity's goal, though still confusing, is more or less clear; force people and creatures to play these twisted games and feed on those who get sacrificed. But the executioner's goal? It's straight up a mystery. (Y/N) know it has something to do with them, but... Why them exactly? Why not Cheryl? Didn't she come from the same place as that beast? What the monster even wants them for?
What will he do when he finally gets his hands on them? Wh-
A rough shake snapped (Y/N) out of their internal break down.
They blink a couple of times, tears of fear nearly sliding down their cheeks as their body shivers. They were scared, more than the other three survivors combined.
The survivor holding them by their shoulders, David, sighs when he finally notices them react.
—"Look, I know you're scared..."— he starts talking, his voice surprisingly calm.
—"I'm-... I- I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry-..."— you choke out in a weak wobbly voice, guilt eating you from inside.
—"No no. Just listen for a sec. I... Well, we all can tell that you aren't enjoying it neither. So, let's not break down into a soap opera, okay? Don’t think of this as hopeless match, but as another chance to woop that asshole's ass and escape."—
—"And also leave him empty handed!"— Feng announces from her place while already working on a generator.
—"Yeah, screw that triangular piece of shit! Let's try out Dwight's strategy this time. You remember it, do you?"— he asks you, not letting go of your shoulders yet.
The surprisingly positive and reassuring words of their teammates towards them really soothed and even cheered (Y/N) a bit. With a small smile they quickly wipe their eyes before nodding.
—"Good, see? We're already starting on a good note!"— he lets go to then pat your back, basically pushing you forward. —"Now go help with a gen before putting the 'plan' into work."—
Though the push hurt a bit, (Y/N) didn't care at all about the pain, too focused on keepings all the negative and pessimistic thoughts away.
For the first minute and a half everything was going well, (Y/N) and Feng were working on one generator while David and Jonah were working on the other one. The four of them were dead silent, straining their ears for any of the sounds the creature makes, such as heavy footsteps, the scraping of his gigantic knife or their own heartbeat. Weirdly enough, everything was calm... Too calm.
(Y/N) nearly choked with air when a cold chill ran through their spine.
Spine Chill. The beast... Is watching them.
They attempt to subtly alert Feng by carefully tapping her leg, but as soon as their fingertips touched the other girl’s skin, their heartbeat started to get louder and louder, until…
—“WATCH OUT!”—
(Y/N) exclaimed as they pushed Feng, just in time to dodge a bunch of sharp and rusted metal pieces coming out the ground.
—“Holy-...”— she mutters.
Now that the monster is here, the four survivors decided to put in action the mentioned strategy.
They all let go of the generators and run away in different directions, (Y/N) being the most desperate while running since they know exactly who the beast is targeting.
His pattern is always the same; chase after until sending them into a cage to then down all of their teammates and then come straight back to all caged and helpless (Y/N) and then… Stare or touch them until the others bleed out or the entity has enough.
The difference in the current case, is that (Y/N) is not playing just cat and mouse. In fact, chasing them is the worst the killer can do. All of their abilities are chase oriented, another teammate lurking around has all the boon ones, while the last two have all is needed to rush through the generators. If everything works out, the monster will get himself in a situation where he's be forced to leave (Y/N) alone.
The chase was intense, at least for (Y/N). Despite never catching a clear view of the Executioner, they could feel him close behind, following them methodically like a wild animal on a hunt, waiting for the right moment to strike while keeping up the tension.
It was hard to maintain the focus, every single hallways in The Game looked the exact same. Did they vaulted that window already? Didn't they pre-dropped that palled over there? Did Feng placed it up again? Are the other two working on the generators? Have they taken this left path before?
So many questions where swarming their mind as their legs kept carrying them on, only momentarily relaxing when two generators finally made that distinguish noise.
Two done! Tree left.
A breathless laugh escaped from them. Great! This is already going better than all of their previous encounters with the Executioner, which would always end with the first generator barely reaching 30%.
However, their smile was quickly swept when they realized they no longer hear their heartbeat or thundering footsteps tailing behind. It was silent, dead silent, with no other sounds that their own breathing.
A wave of anxiety flushed through (Y/N) like a tsunami wave and started to drag and drown them deeper into their own worries.
What the?... Okay, this was not part of the plan. The Executioner had never left the chase with them, never. So the fact that he finally did, and apparently a while ago, made them shake.
With nothing else to do, they gather the courage to start moving again. Where? Somewhere! Anywhere but to stay in place and be an easy target to the beast that so desperately wants them.
They keep running, stopping only for a brief moment before turning a corner, making sure they don't hear any muffled breathing that at times resembled growls. They learned the hard way with the Shape that some killers like to wait around corners, and they don't want to commit the same mistake right now.
Their heart jerked when they heard a scream resonate from their left, and a faint reddish aura in the shape of a human gleamed for a second before disappearing.
David is down.
And it seems like he's not getting picked up, which could either mean that the monster is setting up a trap or chasing someone else. Whichever the case is, they shouldn't go-
They hear a bunch of footsteps come their way, and in a set of panic they crouch behind a bunch of boxes, silently praying that their disguise is mildly good.
They can't see much from their spot, but they can clearly recognize the shape of Jonah running away from something massive.
As soon as the two figures passed by, (Y/N) gets up and takes off running towards David to check on him.
After some wondering around the labyrinth-like place, they finally reach their injured teammate, who was still on the ground and groaning from pain.
—"{David!}"— you whisper-yell as you start running towards him.
He weakly lifts his head just enough to see them. When he recognized who it is, he starts to frantically shake his head.
—"NO! GET THE FUCK OUT!"—
Huh? What-
As (Y/N) is about to reach David, a path of sharp metal pieces and razor wires had emerged right in front of them, just when they're about to make contact with the floor again, making in impossible to dodge.
The second their leg got tangled into the sharp metallic mess, everything went too fast. They don't even have time to pull away as something sliced them on their side, sending them directly on the ground.
They send a guilty and ashamed glance to David, who had an frustrated expression.
—"{Sorry...}"— you mouth.
(Y/N) has no chance to see David's answer as a massive hand suddenly curled around their throat and forced them to look away from the other man.
Their eyes wide at the sight of the beast menacingly hovering over their helpless form, holding their body in place between him and the ground. The muscles of his extended arm were tense, his breathing heavy, almost like he's holding back the anger and displeasure caused by them giving attention to someone else.
Their heart skipped beats, their breath uneven, their eyes watered as they tightly closed them, not wanting to witness whatever this thing was about to do. They can feel the warmth coming from his body, his breathing slowly stabilizing, as if staring at them and watching them slowly submit was enough to calm the monster. Ironically, it did the complete opposite to (Y/N), as their own heartbeat raised from the anxiety of having to face the unknown, attempt to predict the unpredictable and prepare to witness another massacre unfold around them at any second... Just to then end up caged and at the mercy of this-
—"LEAVE THEM ALONE ASSHOLE!"— David angrily yells from his place, struggling and trying to stand up. —"You're fucking terrifying, of course they don't want to look at you!"—
They can feel Pyramid Head's hand tense and start shaking, his fingers twitching and pressing further into their skin. (Y/N) was beyond terrified now, just a little bit of pressure and the creature could crush their throat like a cardboard tube.
David, though clearly using all of his strength, ended up falling back on the ground, as if some invisible weigh is actively pushing him down.
—“You freak! Absolute sick fuck! Let them go already!”—
As the waterfall of profanities continues, (Y/N) slowly places their hands around the monster’s wrist to attempt to push his hand away, unfortunately he didn’t budge at all.
Suddenly, David’s stops screaming and the very next second (Y/N) feels something warm and slippery press against their cheek.
They jerk in place at the uncanny sensation and shoot open their eyes, a breathless gasp escaping them at the sight of a… Wh-What even is that? A freaking tentacle? A tongue?…
The dark pink muscle wiggles in front of their face for a moment before licking another stride, wiping some of their tears and blood in the process, making (Y/N) shiver in discomfort.
They shoot a confused glance to David, desperately wanting to know if he’s witnessing this too. The man had an expression of pure ‘what the fuck’; eyes narrowed, brows furrowed and mouth slightly gaping.
This eye contact was brief though. (Y/N) got startled for a loud growl that reverbed from the beast's chest and helmet. The hand finally leaves their throat as the beast stands up to his full height and starts making his way to David, leaving them alone, as well as his knife?
(Y/N) throws their teammate a scared look, but David responds with a forced smirk.
—"Ah, now you decide to drag your big ass towards me."— he mutters through gritted teeth.
The monster seem to not react to his taunts. With each step that he takes towards David, his mask of confidence seems to crack.
Nevertheless, the man didn’t back out from his insults, he never does.
—“What’s wrong? Why so pissy, huh?! Jealous that (Y/N) prefers us?!”—
Saying their name was a sore spot to hit, and the way Pyramid Head reacted confirmed that.
The monster roughly grabs David by the neck, completely ignoring the fact that he’s not even holding his weapon. Instead he uses his bare hands to silence him.
Nasty, wet and crunchy sounds resonated through the room and hallways as the creature began to tear the man’s body limb by limb, piece by peace, unbothered by the pained screams of his victim or the low groan of displeasure that resonated from above for again not playing by the rules.
(Y/N) froze in horror at the sight in front of them. Blood, chunks of flesh and bone pieces where flying everywhere, never before they’ve witnessed this type of gore, not even during the ‘mori’.
Though it felt like the massacre lasted hours, it was actually second. The monster threw the whatever remaining he had in his hands and slowly turned back to (Y/N), who was still frozen and unable to look away from what was left from David. They know they will meet again in the fire camp, in one piece and alive, but god they felt sick...
Their shock breaks only when the thundering footsteps began to resonate again, shaking the ground underneath them with each the creature took. He grew closer, and closer, with them being able to do absolutely nothing aside from attempting to crawl away.
But that pity attempt was stopped when the same sharp wires and rusty metal pieces emerged from the ground and wrapped around their body, pulling them slowly underneath and sinking them further into the ground. And before they realize it, their body is already trapped in that rotten metallic cage.
Cold metal spikes just inches away from their flesh, so close to penetrate their skin, a wrong move and they would undoubtedly get hurt. But even if they wanted to move, they couldn't really. The space in the structure was small, claustrophobic even, each spike perfectly adjusted to keep their form in place. In some twisted way, it felt like a hug, a very cold, unwelcoming and unnerving hug.
They flinch when they hear a scream resonate from somewhere, which was cut by a loud slam.
Feng was caught.
It seems like the Executioner didn't bother to down her, rather getting rid of her directly, most likely because he's aware that Jonah is not keen of going for rescues...
And speaking of the man, there is his aura flashing before (Y/N)'s eyes as his body fell on the floor.
He's down... Which means that-
Before they even finish their conclusion, the tall figure of the monster appeared. Just by looking at them his behavior seemed to change; movements more erratic and pace uneven, almost like he's hypnotized.
He makes his way to them, slowly, as if purposely building up the tension.
(Y/N) wanted to look away or close their eyes, but whenever they did so the cage felt painfully small. It hurt, literally, so they stare at that beast grow closer with wide shaky eyes that struggled to keep their focus on him. This is something Pyramid Head was always good at, he could always make you fear, even the toughest bravest ones would inevitably succumb to the terror his presence brings.
Ones in front of them, the creature stops in place and simply stares, like he always did.
(Y/N), though still scared, was a tiny bit relieved that this is what the rest of the trial would be; them being pinned like a butterfly with the monster observing.
It would be just that.
Just this bizarre staring contest.
...Right?
WRONG.
The creature suddenly let go of his weapon and grabs the edges of the cage with both hands quite violently.
Now the little hope and comfort (Y/N) had was thrown out the window, as now they realize they no longer have any idea of what will happen next.
And by what it looks like, the entity is not planning to intervene, as if curious itself to see what will happen next.
Pyramid Head remains like this, his big hands tightly squeezing the imperfect metal bars, bending them slightly and making the already miserable looking material groan from the pressure he was applying.
It looked like he wanted to destroy that cage, rip it apart and get to them, but didn't do it by holding himself back... Why? What's even the point of this build up? What's even the point in wanting them?!
—"{Wh-...Why?...}"— you choke out in a very quiet voice. —"{Why a-are you d-... doing this?...}"—
(Y/N) knows is stupid to ask, Pyramid Head can't even speak! But they can't help themselves, they're too scared, their anxiety is unbearable and their thoughts are too out of control. They need answers, anything that could even hint for a possible explanation of the killer's intentions.
They began to second guess their decision to speak when the creature froze in place, even his breath was now inaudible. This was the first time (Y/N) spoke directly to the monster, but they didn't expect him to react at this fact, not like this, or at all.
But he did, he did acknowledged that little detail, and he will make sure they acknowledge it too.
The creature soon moves again, by slowly leaning closer and slightly tilting his head to the side, almost like trying to get a better look at them.
His breathing got heavier, low huffs and growls resonating from that metallic helmet of his. It really looked like he was actively holding back some major urge or desire, but what it is?
(Y/N) wanted to ask again, but decided against it as there is little Pyramid Head could do to answer, and even if he could, why should he? Maybe it's more amusing to him to see them helplessly wondering in the dark and unable to comprehend what's going on.
Or maybe, there is simply nothing to explain?... Maybe he does what he does just because? Human mind is way too used to seek for reasons and explanations for anything and everything, often forgetting that sometimes the answer is way too simple or straight up null, could that be the case?
The same groan coming from the cage bars pulled (Y/N) out of their thoughts. They forget how to breathe at the sight of the structure slowly collapsing as the monster starts to rip the bars with his raw strength.
A scared yelp escaped them as they try to back further into the cage as much as they can, ignoring the sharp edges that scratched or pierced their body. They barely felt pain, none at all actually, the adrenaline and basic survival instincts keeping their body resilient and ready to run. The sad part is, is that there is nowhere to run, nothing to do. It's sweet that their body tries so desperately to keep their hopes up and reassure their survival, but their mind is more than aware of the cold desolated reality...
The front part of the cage was eventually ripped off and thrown against the floor violently. (Y/N) can only cover their eyes with their hands and quietly sob as they wait for whatever the monster had planned to do next.
Even when no further actions are made, they refuse to look. They no longer want to face this thing, they no longer want to suffer this torment. Regardless if they believed in any religion or no, they mutter silent prayers under their breath, but not no save them, but to make it end and to know how sorry they are for any evil or harm they've did in their life that leaded to such tragic conclusion.
But this is where the catch is... They've committed none. At least from the Executioner's perspective.
Despite their whispers being so silent to a non-existent point, Pyramid Head heard them loud and clear. And the more he heard their voice, the more he felt the inside of his chest burn and the desire for them grow even more. (Y/N) is not perfect, they're human after all, and all humans have their fair share of flaws and defects... But unlike the rest, (Y/N) has the ability to acknowledge said imperfections and genuinely try to make up for them, to fix them... Regardless if they get something in return or not.
This, this is the true purity in a human being. An innocence and kindness so genuine that it would be a sin not to worship and protect... And who is a best fit to take care of it other than the fearsome Pyramid Head?
(Y/N)... So pure... So innocent... So kind... He must keep them save.
He must keep them...
He wants them...
W̴͕̳͈͔̭̝͠ͅ a̶̩̰̲̎̓͊̈̓̕ ǹ̴̢͇̬̘̗̯̜̍̋͊͠͝͠ ṭ̶͇̃̔͝ s̶̭̩͔̹̝̼̅̍̆̉͌͝
As the monster is about to reach them, a spider like legs burst out through the floor and wrap themselves around (Y/N).
The trial... Is over.
And while the absolutely livid roar gets overshadowed by the groans of the entity as the black fog surrounds the whole place. (Y/N) only keeps quietly sobbing as they cling to the spider leg sticking out of their chest. And though they knew the entity is the main responsible of their current torment, they were too overwhelmed with emotions to properly process their actions.
Surprisingly, the spider-like being didn't disappear right away, probably feeling pity for their situation and allowing them to cry for a brief moment, most likely to compensate this unplanned mess they have to deal with.
To everyone's surprise in the camp, when (Y/N) finally arrived they where unconscious, either passed out after such emotional roller coaster or the entity wants them take some genuine rest. Whatever the case it, it didn't matter, what matters is that their fellow friend is back save and sound, right?
As one of the survivors decided to take them closer to the bonfire for warmth and comfort, they could swear they heard some weird noises from afar.
It resembled a demonic cry filler with rage, so distant yet menacing. Everyone instinctively shivered.
And though (Y/N) successfully 'survived' yet another trial with the executioner, almost everyone had the gut feeling that the next encounter they have with the beast, it will not end good...
They all take a glance at their still unconscious form.
Poor (Y/N)...
1K notes · View notes
mercy-burning · 20 days
Text
A Kindness You Can't Afford
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k
MASTERLIST
NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3
Enjoy!!
*******
There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.
You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.
It isn't a risk you're willing to take.
And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.
"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."
In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.
"Spencer, you're here late..."
He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."
"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.
Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.
Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.
It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.
You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.
Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.
"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."
You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.
Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."
He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...
You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.
He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.
Not that, right now, you'd mind...
Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.
Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.
A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."
He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.
Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.
No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.
You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"
The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.
You better be... 
It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.
You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.
It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.
Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.
You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.
Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.
The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.
"Twice in one night, huh?"
You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.
Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.
You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.
And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.
The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.
The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.
And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.
So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.
Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.
*******
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