#[ i just. there is so much to dissect. i need more of her. i need so much more of her. SO MUCH MORE of her. ]
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thinking about Bodkin again bc I mean,,, ALL THE SYMBOLISM OHHHHHGH. i NEED some tumblr film analysis hobbyists to watch this show and tell me all the themes n such
#yes I’m making all these posts in a row#it’s bc I’m obsessed atm#mypost#Bodkin#bodkin netflix#PLEASSEEEEE#WHY DID THE PAPER MACHE HEAD LOOK LIKE GILBERT#CAN WE HAVE AN IN-DEPTH CONVERSATION ABOUT EVERYTHING ABOUT GILBERT BEING FORCED TO SWALLOW/CHOKE ON HIS WORDS (recorder) BUT THAT SOUND—HIS#STORY (HIS pov. however ‘abstract’ and detatched from consequence it may have been) BEING WHAT CATCHES EMMY AND DOVEs ATTENTION TO SAVE HIM#. LIKE#OUGHHHHHWJEHQIHSJSBWJXNAJSNNQJZNWHXJWHXJEBXNDUSBJS#AND THE WOLF IMAGERY PLS SOMEONE TELL ME ABOUT THAT#IS THERE MORE THAN THE SURFACE? what do I not understand? as im writing this out am thinking: ok its cause dove is a lone wolf#WAITTTT WAIT OMFG AND when she remembers that her mom told her to howl when she was lost… bc wolves actually have family and I’m p sure the#lone wolf thing is a myth… after she realizes that she’s not alone and she can choose to interact#GOD GRAHHHHH IM GOING CRAZY OVER THIS SHOW#other things I’m thinking abt (will maybe make a post abt?)#OUGH YEAH OK dove symbolism: wolf/lone wolf. sunglasses/shielding herself (OUGH AND SHE PICKS UP THAT XTRA LAYER OF DEFENCE WHEN SHE COMES#BACK TO HOMELAND/familiar space… bc she’s vulnerable to her past here…. hrahhh#. also LMFAO when she calls the sheriff a piggy#hrmmmmm aughhh I want to dissect Gilbert and Seamus’s friendship oughhh#ok wait even more on Dove: I want to dig into when she calls Emmy Emmy vs Sizargd (will have to look up the spelling whoops) —was it always#blatant manipulation? how much of it is a reflection of what she is? hrmmmm there’s so much there I think#another Q: why did Emmy call the tech guy Shitpants again at the end? ik there were the stakes I just wanna dig into her character more. why#would she say the shitpants thing instead of manipulating him in other ways? (not saying her was was unreasonable at all lol-j wanna dig#into her character.#OH prob something abt the whole ‘her needing to release her anger’ thing? idk ahh I want to analyze her more
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I wonder if Clytemnestra fully checked out of motherhood and wifedom (is that a word?) after what happened with Iphigenia resulting in the very neglectful/abusive dynamic we see her share with Electra later on.
Because 1. What is the point of being good or caring as a mother if your children get sacrificed and 2. What is the point of being a good wife if your husband sacrifices your children and is unfaithful to you 3. NO ONE suggests he should be punished for these actions so if he does it it's fine if you do it too 4. The daughter you have left loves her father more because you treated her like shit
#and like yeah we can talk about the double standard of infidelity back then but even if women werent supposed to care#i bet they fucking did#the whole family is a frog 2 me i need to dissect it#also this is just me speculating but in my head i think Electra and Clytemnestra are very similar#while Iphigenia and Orestes take after Agamemnon more#she went there is no point to being a good mother -> there is no point to being a good wife -> there is no point to being a good person#love her so much#clytemnestra
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white night angela
PARADISELOST ILU PARADISELOST MY BESTFRIEND PARADISELOST. genuinely one of my very top favorites despite how little i ever bring her up Ever. she is like... Everything 2 Me in a way im not quite sure i can describe. ok.
Design- GENDER. ok. the way that she looks so weightless, the hair thats reminiscient of feathers, the fucking. bloody angel look. the little snake around her shoulders!!!! come ON! something about the fact that her eyes are just about always closed again; and further than that, the fact that they only open during Attacks, in which they are completely flat red. hashtag girl. girl just LOOK at her. ok? ok. something about the collar is fucking me up but im not sure i can detail it.
Theme- i have TALKED ABOUT THIS MOTHERFUCKER!!!! the religion floor realization kills me to death and im never over it. the tangle of shepherd and lamb, leader and that who wishes to follow, savior and the damned. like... listen. something about her desperate desire to not be alone manifesting as some split between Her and One Of The Most Feared Abnormalities, in such a stark difference to how she usually acts where you cant really tell the lines between one and the other until you snap her out of it. how she manifests that which she wishes to have As Herself in conjunction with how she is completely convinced nobody would dare to stand with her. the image of complete and utter calm in the face of the turbulence that she clings onto like a lifeline despite it all. its quite literally all of her struggles pushed to an Extreme. this motherfucker is the reason i can never talk about anyone about angela without it being an hours long thing how the FUCK do you summarize this even. speaking with words that arent hers, yearning for someone to lead her to a happier place where she would never be alone again, to lead, to follow, to have, to take, to give. and still, despite it all, she is still just... confused, lost, and afraid. its something so shockingly simple for what a grandiose image thats projected of herself, and the conversation beforehand really drives it home. i will literally be here for hours. anyway if you want that other post its [here]; i dont think i could say it any better or differently or more youre just gonna have to take it ok. thanks.
in conclusion uh, i think she might actually be one of if not The one thats the most important to me? like... personally. ithink she was the first one i drew something Completely for, the one that kicked me into thinking abt her for hours on end every time she came up... something about her just kills me to death. shrimply. she is so very important. and most importantly: She Should Be Allowed To Kill.
#she is so important. i need to draw her more so badly. i love her so much. there is something there i wanna dissect so bad but.#shakes fist. i dont have it just yet. not yet.#projmoon#ask game#if im being honest. this was th one i was hoping to get Most when doing this so thankyou skdjgndkjghn
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What's in your opinion alicent's healthier relationship in the show? And what's your favorite?
I think her healthiest relationship is her friendship with Criston. he is the one person truly sworn to her, who will protect her and listen to her and be a shoulder for her to cry on in her court. he also understood what it was like to be taken advantage of by royals who held such immense power of their heads that it was no use to try and fight them. they were allies and friends and damn near only means of staying sane. he was sworn to her on his own will and he was by her side till the very end. he also had s good relationship with her kids and was most likely the closest thing they ever had to a father, especially as they got older and during the dance. I think he was probably the one person she felt truly safe with, and he allowed her the room to breathe and let out her worries and angers she otherwise had to keep bottled up. not to mention she literally saved his life and gave him a time and place to attempt to regain his honor and serve her as he wished. they're both so sad and pathetic (affectionatly) and I love them so much.
my favorite though (even if her and Cole's is very close to being my favorite) is her and Aegon. they have this messy mother/son relationship that just shatters my heart. he was born to her husband and rapist into her prison that was the red keep and the death of what remained of her childhood and yet she still loved him more than anyone could ever imagine in such a messy and frankly painful way. they're so complex and the emotions are so high strung and it's all just so fascinating to poke around at and analyze. you never love something like you love your eldest child, they say, and we see that with Alicent even when she struggles to parent him, because she was a child too when she had him and he is a bit of s troublemaker she doesn't know how to handle. Aegon is an amazing and flawed character as well, while not the best person, and the relationship he has with his mom, where he is just longing for her to be soft with him to love him constantly while also keeping the wedge between them is just *chefs kiss*. I love them and all their messy mommy issues.
#thanks for the ask ❤️❤️❤️#I love my characters and their relationships with others disastrous messy and pathetic#can you tell?#they just mean so much to me#alicole in any form is the healthiest relationship she has#whether it be a queen and her queens gaurd. a platonic soulmate/relationship situation. or even romantic situation#(the last two being more fanon than the first)#and aegon and alicent are just so perfect and messy and awful and beautiful#but i love them dearly#I want to dissect them forever and ever#I need inject them into my veins#they're nightmares and oh so fascinating#alicent hightower#criston cole#aegon targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#hotd#house of the dragon#pro alicent hightower#pro criston cole#pro team green
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I'm a mess (I know most are asleep and I should be too, but shh). Sometimes when I browse Youtube (and talking to Jace about Kafka as a whole, goodness, the walls that I type about this woman), I realize just how much I focus on the... how to classify this, the intricacies of reactions that are vehemently human, and that entire aspect of Kafka that was more so (/especially) presented since and in her SQ, though one I'll also say to have been inherently present before that. It's not that I neglect her violence, not at all, if anything I try to explain this element of her as to firmly tie them in together, though finding the words to do this is quite difficult, as this post will make clear, honestly. I'm a mess, this is a mess, it's a problem. Any way, this is probably why Mihoyo makes such intense use of music to convey so much for her. Cue me putting on her trailer music, and I'm literally making all of the little oddly precise head movements to each bow of the violin in it. Love her.
God, it's just, there are in my opinion, from a normal human's perspective, 'two sides' to the coin that is Kafka, except despite their intense contrasts, they work together to fit into a perfect mold of 'one'. And a good glance into this is their pull of your attention to the music that they composed (and perfectly edited, my god) for her trailer(s), Vivaldi's Winter in her main one but the very important part to note, is that it also includes compositions of Spring (? I now also feel like I recognize a snippet of Summer a glimpse of Autumn) alongside it, which is representative of something wildly differently; and then Lacrimosa in the Jepella Rebellion trailer. God, god. Yes, it's always inherently tied to mourning and grief, and one can argue that it's entirely because of the destruction outside that is happening in due part due to her (and the others; but it's worthy to note that the SH don't destroy for the sake of destroying; it all has purpose, always), but Lacrimosa can also be evident as a reaction from Kafka internally. And I say this, because if memory serves correctly in terms of my weak knowledge but stronger research, it's used within the Requiem Mass, in which it follows a 'divine judgment' movement, and Lacrimosa plays in emotional response to it, a composition displaying sorrow and grief as people seek redemption. So the question now comes— as much as Kafka 'plays with her food' so to say, could you also tie the 'mock trial' in with a response of 'divine judgement' of her own in reaction to, well, divine judgment that was executed prior? Am I making sense? In essence, what exactly is all of this in response to? Could she have been wronged by these judges? Or judgement by default, or does she simply not believe in such judgement? I also still firmly stand on my hill that Kafka has suffered an immense loss before, so could this play into that as well? Does she hold judgment within the palm of her hand because there is grief in her? The layers, guys, the layers. I'm losing my mind.
And then also, slightly unrelated: I see comments like this (and as someone who sadly never go to continue my piano playing), and I thrive, because it tells me that they aimed for this accuracy for her in specific. The violin, guys, one of the instruments if not the primary one that depicts human vulnerability in sound and play. The accuracy tells me even more that it's way too likely that she actively plays the violin. Which means, which means, that I get to thrive even more in terms of layers.. Oh, happy day.
Point of this entire post? I don't know, consider it the ramblings of a mad woman. There's no such thing as a simple conclusion for Kafka. There is simply... Kafka. A woman who is Destiny's Slave, but also inherently holds and practices her own sense of control in some ways. A woman who knows an ease in violence that we see her partake in by choice (this is so important), and with an element of emotional disengagement (one must, no? Or?) I usher my gratitude for bringing me back here. I'm thriving and will thrive on all 3 accounts.
Post-script: Okay but also:
"The old me? I used to be a Devil Hunter. (...) When people don't feel fear they are dominated by desire and pleasure — they become "devils."
But why are you not one of them? How did you hunt them, instead? /rattles bars of cage.
#[ meta. ] the mara's tether is firmly in her grasp. she will not pull upon it before the designated time; nor shall she relinquish it.#[ i am in /love/ with this woman. IN LOVE with this woman. am i the only one? surely not. ]#[ i just. there is so much to dissect. i need more of her. i need so much more of her. SO MUCH MORE of her. ]
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No More Misunderstandings
Summary: You have a big crush on Spencer, everyone can see it except for Spencer himself.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Tech Analyst fem!reader
Category: fluff
Warnings/Includes: crushing, (un)requited feelings, bad communication, Spencer trying to flirt, gay Elle, Rossi not Gideon, happy ending, Elle is out but reader doesn't know
Word count: 9.4k
a/n: if this man ever asked me to hang out i would say yes in two seconds flat
main masterlist
Every day, you settled into the hum of computers and the soft glow of monitors that painted the walls of the BAU's technical analysis hub, affectionately dubbed the "bat cave" by those who knew it best. Your role as a tech analyst found you working side-by-side with the brilliant and bubbly Penelope Garcia, a woman whose personality was as colorful as her wardrobe. Despite the comfort of being shrouded in the semi-darkness of your tech-laden sanctuary, a certain type of light seemed to elude you—the spark of acknowledgment in Dr. Spencer Reid's deep, thoughtful eyes.
You harbored a crush so palpable that even the air in the room felt charged with your nervous energy whenever Spencer was near. However, your shy demeanor cloaked these feelings in a veil of secrecy that somehow, miraculously, Spencer himself never managed to pierce through. Everyone else on the team had noticed, from the knowing smiles of Derek Morgan to the gentle teasing of JJ, but Spencer remained blissfully unaware, his attention often drifting towards Elle Greenaway with an intensity that tugged painfully at your heart.
Penelope, ever the observant friend, never missed a beat. "Oh, honey," she would whisper, "it’s like you’re sending Morse code with those blushes and he’s living in a blackout."
Her words were gentle, tinged with humor and affection, yet each jest felt like a pinprick to your already tender sensibilities. Whenever Spencer visited the bat cave to discuss case details or gather information, your heart raced as you tried to provide him with everything he needed without tripping over your words or, heaven forbid, your own feet.
"Hey, Spencer," you would start, your voice a careful mixture of professionalism and the warmth you couldn’t keep at bay.
"Hello," he would respond, his eyes scanning the screens filled with data. His focus was razor-sharp, dissecting information with the same precision he used on everything but the emotional currents swirling around him.
Each interaction was a dance. You would inch towards openness, leaning in to catch a whiff of his cologne or to appreciate the subtle shift of his hair when he ran his fingers through it in concentration. But as soon as he glanced up, those hazel eyes like windows to an enigmatic soul, you would recoil slightly, cheeks aflame, words retreating as quickly as they had dared to emerge.
Later, as the screen showed live feeds of the team moving through their environments, Penelope would nudge you gently with her elbow, her voice low and teasing. "You know, if we had a dollar for every time you fumbled around that man, we could retire and buy an island in the Bahamas."
You’d offer a small, embarrassed laugh, grateful for the low lighting hiding the worst of your blush. "I just... I don’t know how to act around him, Penelope. What if he doesn’t..."
"Feel the same?" she'd finish for you, her tone softening. "Sweetie, the heart’s a funny creature. It doesn’t play by the rules of logic that Spencer loves so much. But who knows? Maybe one day, he’ll surprise you and actually look up from those case files and see what’s right in front of him."
The comfort in her voice was soothing, yet each day ended the same—with you watching Spencer, Spencer watching Elle, and Penelope watching over you, a guardian angel clad in technicolor, armed with an arsenal of jokes and just the right words to keep you smiling through the uncertainty.
—
The day had been rolling along as usual in the BAU's bat cave, the rhythmic clicking of keyboards providing a steady backdrop to the glow of computer screens. Penelope had excused herself for a quick bathroom break, leaving you alone amidst the towers of technology. Just as the door clicked shut behind her, the shrill ring of the phone sliced through the quiet, startling you slightly. Calls from the field were usually Penelope’s domain, her cheerful voice a soothing constant for the team. Today, it seemed, you would have to step into her shoes.
“Y/N speaking, what can I do for you?” Your voice wavered slightly, anxiety bubbling up as you prepared for your usual toggle through databases and security feeds.
When Spencer’s voice responded from the other end, a different kind of alertness prickled across your skin. “Hi, Y/N, we need to cross-reference known associates of the unsub with recent flight records. Can you pull up the lists and cross-check for any matches?”
Your heart thumped erratically, his voice weaving through the receiver like a familiar song that never failed to stir your soul. You tried to maintain a steady tone, hoping your voice didn’t betray the sudden nervousness that his presence, even just over the phone, incited. “Sure, Spencer, just a moment.”
As your fingers danced across the keyboard, the professional mask you wore each day slid comfortably into place. You were adept at your job, a fact that never faltered, even under the weight of your emotions. Quickly pulling up the necessary records, you began the process of cross-referencing, your mind briefly detached from the flutter in your stomach.
“Looks like there’s a match. Michael Davidson, on a flight from Atlanta to D.C. this morning,” you reported, a trace of pride threading through your words at the efficiency with which you’d located the information.
“Great, Y/N. Thanks,” Spencer’s voice came through, a hint of relief palpable even through the static of the connection. His appreciation, simple and straightforward, filled you with a warmth that went beyond professional satisfaction.
Hanging up, you let out a breath you’d been holding. Penelope chose that moment to breeze back into the room, her presence as effervescent as ever. Catching the tail end of your smile, she quirked an eyebrow playfully.
“Spill the beans, buttercup. You look like someone just handed you a golden ticket,” she teased, settling back into her chair.
“It was just Spencer needing some quick info,” you shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant as your heart continued to beat a staccato rhythm against your ribs.
Penelope’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling with unspoken understanding. “Oh, just Spencer, huh?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, trying to brush it off casually. “Derek would never betray you by talking to me,” you teased, hoping to steer the conversation away from your flustered feelings.
Penelope’s eyes sparkled even more as she winked at you. “Oh, he’s allowed to have side pieces, my love. I’m a generous goddess.”
You burst out laughing, your nervousness momentarily forgotten as Penelope’s playful banter eased your tension. “I’ll let him know you said that,” you shot back, turning back to your screen, trying to focus on anything other than the residual warmth from talking to Spencer.
Penelope, never one to let you off the hook easily, leaned in closer. “Should I let Spencer know he isn’t allowed to have any side pieces then?” she asked, winking at you again, her tone as sweet as honey but with a hint of mischief.
“Penelope!” you gasped, feeling your face flush all over again. The blush you thought had faded returned with a vengeance as you turned away, hoping she wouldn’t see just how red you were.
She laughed, clearly pleased with herself. “I’m just saying, babe. The boy’s got options, but I think we both know his best one is sitting right here.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands as you let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “You’re impossible.”
“Just doing my part to make sure he doesn’t miss any signals,” Penelope sang, tapping her keyboard lightly, her grin as wide as ever. You couldn't help but smile too, secretly grateful for her teasing. After all, it was these moments that made the crush a little more bearable.
—
During one of Rossi’s famed pasta-making sessions, a relaxed atmosphere filled his spacious kitchen, with the rich aroma of tomato sauce simmering on the stove and the sounds of laughter mingling with soft Italian music playing in the background. Rossi, the consummate host, guided everyone through the steps of making the perfect pasta dough, his hands moving with the ease of long practice.
You found yourself stationed next to Spencer, who was diligently kneading a mound of fresh pasta dough. His hands, beautiful and dexterous, worked the dough with a precision that was mesmerizing. The veins on his hands stood out, accentuating every deliberate movement, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by the fluidity of his motions. It wasn’t just his intellect that drew you in; even his seemingly mundane physical actions had a way of catching your undivided attention.
Derek and JJ, who were partnered up on the other side of the kitchen island, caught your fixed gaze and shared an amused look between them. Derek’s smirk grew as he nudged JJ, whispering loud enough for you to overhear, “Looks like someone’s more interested in the handwork than the handiwork.”
JJ chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she joined in the teasing. “Yeah, I think Y/N’s planning on writing a thesis on the manual dexterity of certain geniuses.”
Flustered, you tore your eyes away from Spencer’s hands, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You attempted to focus back on your own portion of dough, which had begun to stick to the counter more than it should. Spencer, oblivious to the exchange, looked up and noticed your struggle.
“Hey, you need to dust a bit more flour on the surface,” he said, his voice gentle, unaware of the reason behind your distraction. He reached over to sprinkle some flour on your dough and then on the countertop, his fingers briefly brushing against yours. The brief contact sent a pleasant jolt through you, further flustering you.
Rossi, ever the observant host, noticed the playful dynamic and decided to rescue you from your embarrassment. “Alright, everyone, let’s focus on the art of pasta! Y/N, why don’t you help me with the sauce?” he suggested, giving you a knowing smile as he handed you a wooden spoon.
As you helped Rossi stir the simmering sauce, carefully blending the herbs into the rich, aromatic mixture, you couldn’t help but cast furtive glances across the kitchen. There, Hotch had taken up the spot you vacated next to Spencer, now deeply engaged in the art of pasta making under Rossi’s enthusiastic instruction. While Hotch was methodically following Rossi’s guidance, Spencer’s attention occasionally drifted.
Across from them, Elle was rolling out her dough with a confident flourish, laughing at something Hotch had said. You caught Spencer's eyes as they met Elle's, a shared glance of amusement passing effortlessly between them. The ease of their silent communication was stark, their smiles syncing in a moment of private jest that seemed to exclude the world around them—including you.
That simple, silent exchange felt like a punch to the gut. The laughter and camaraderie around you suddenly seemed a bit dimmer, a bit more distant. It wasn’t just jealousy that twisted in your stomach—it was the aching realization of how much could be said in a single look when there was a real connection; a connection you feared might never form between Spencer and yourself.
You turned your attention back to the sauce, the spoon moving mechanically in your hand as Rossi continued to chat about the nuances of Italian cooking. He didn’t seem to notice your distraction, caught up in his culinary passion. But inside, your thoughts were swirling as tumultuously as the sauce you stirred.
Trying to shake off the sinking feeling, you focused on the positives—the laughter of your team, the comforting weight of the wooden spoon in your hand, the delicious smell that filled the kitchen. But despite the festive atmosphere, a part of you remained reserved, quietly nursing the tender hope that maybe, just maybe, one day Spencer would look at you with the same warmth and understanding he so effortlessly shared with Elle. Until then, you resolved to keep smiling, keep stirring, and keep hoping.
—
The BAU briefing room felt unusually empty without Penelope's vibrant presence, Elle's keen insights, and Derek's charismatic confidence filling the space. With them on vacation, the dynamic had shifted, and you found yourself stepping into roles that stretched beyond your usual behind-the-scenes expertise. The weight of Penelope's responsibilities now rested squarely on your shoulders, a challenge you accepted with both determination and a hint of trepidation.
As the team gathered for the briefing on the new case, Hotch turned to you. "Y/N, could you walk us through the case description and the current leads?" His voice was calm, authoritative, yet imbued with a supportive undertone that did little to ease the flutter of nerves in your stomach.
Nodding, you stood, remote in hand, feeling every pair of eyes in the room settle on you. Public speaking was not your greatest fear, but it was hardly your favorite endeavor—especially not with Spencer's intense gaze locked on you. It was as if his eyes were a pair of spotlights, illuminating not just your words but every minute reaction and emotion that flickered across your face.
As you began to outline the case, detailing the patterns and possible psychological motivations of the unsub, Spencer's scrutiny never wavered. His stare was not judgmental nor dismissive; rather, it was analytical, perhaps even a bit curious, as if he were trying to read the nuances of your presentation, to understand not just the facts but the person delivering them.
"Based on the geographical profiling and the behavioral pattern, we believe the unsub may be operating within a ten-mile radius of downtown," you explained, pointing to the map projected behind you. Your voice steadied as you delved deeper into the analysis, the familiar terrain of data and evidence providing a solid foundation beneath your initially shaky confidence.
Spencer's focus, rather than rattling you further, began to foster a sense of resolve within you. You found yourself speaking more confidently, your nerves tempered by the realization that this was still your team—your family in all but blood. They weren't here to judge; they were here to listen and to learn from what you had to offer.
As the briefing wrapped up, Hotch nodded in approval. "Good work, Y/N. Keep us posted on any updates from Garcia's systems until she returns."
You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Glad it was over, you were already preparing to scamper back to your office when you heard a voice that sent a familiar shiver down your spine.
“Y/N?” Spencer's voice, calm yet inquisitive, caught your attention.
You spun around to face him, trying not to let your fluster show. “What’s up?”
“Can you put the map back up on the screen, please?” he asked, already standing by the large projection screen.
“Ye–yeah, of course.” Your fingers fumbled with the remote as you quickly reactivated the display, bringing the map back onto the screen.
“Here,” Spencer said, still not looking back at you. “Come look at this.”
You walked over to stand beside him, your eyes inadvertently drawn to his long fingers as they traced paths along the map, pointing out specific areas. The same hands that had mesmerized you earlier were now gliding over the screen, drawing you into his thought process.
Spencer started talking about the geographical profile, rattling off information with his typical rapid-fire brilliance. But what took you by surprise was how he spoke to you—not as the team’s tech analyst, but as if you were another profiler, someone he wanted to consult. This was new, and it left you momentarily stunned. He’d never done this before.
“Spencer?” you asked quietly, your voice barely audible in the spacious room. He hummed in response, still focused on the map as he tugged thoughtfully at his bottom lip—a gesture you’d come to adore and envy.
“Why are you asking me about this?” you continued, your curiosity growing along with your nerves. “Why not Rossi? Or Hotch?”
Spencer paused, finally turning to face you, his eyes filled with the same focused intensity he usually reserved for solving cases. “Because you see things differently,” he said softly. “You have a different perspective, and that’s valuable. Sometimes it’s not just about profiling. It’s about how we approach the data, and you… you understand patterns in a way that’s unique.”
His words caught you off guard, but they filled you with an unexpected warmth. You weren’t just the tech analyst who plugged in the data—they saw you, Spencer saw you, as part of the team, as someone with valuable insights.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as you held his gaze for a moment longer than you intended. “Thanks, Spencer,” you whispered, trying to suppress the blush creeping up your neck.
He smiled, a small but genuine curve of his lips, before turning back to the map. “Now, what do you think about this area here?” he asked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for you two to be collaborating like this.
For once, you weren’t just lost in thoughts of him—you were part of the conversation, and it felt good.
After you felt you'd helped all you could, you excused yourself back to your office, ready to sink back into the more solitary part of your work. However, Spencer seemed to have other plans, as he walked alongside you, his footsteps synchronized with yours, indicating he wasn't quite done talking. His expression was one of mild concern, a usual precursor to his deep dives into various subjects.
As you walked, he continued to unravel his thoughts about the case, tying loose ends and circling back to previous points with a precision that was nothing short of impressive. It was typical of Spencer to thoroughly dissect each aspect of a case, often taking tangential routes in the conversation that surprisingly led right back to the main topic, a testament to his prodigious mind.
However, as engrossed as he was in discussing the case, his next words veered sharply from the professional to the personal, catching you completely off guard and momentarily stalling your mental gears. The shift was so sudden that it took a moment for you to register what he was actually asking, pulling you out of your case-focused mindset and into a more introspective space. This unexpected question not only showed his human side but also reminded you of the depth of his observational skills, not just in work but in personal matters as well.
"How is Felix, by the way?" Spencer asked, an innocently curious tilt to his head as he regarded you, his pace slowing slightly.
"What?" The name jolted you, an echo from a past chapter of your life you hadn’t opened in ages, and certainly not one you had expected Spencer to know anything about. You blinked, momentarily confused, trying to piece together the leap in conversation.
"Felix? How are they?" Spencer repeated, his interest seemingly piqued by your reaction—or perhaps just his natural inclination toward thorough understanding.
You paused, standing now in the doorway of your office, the background hum of computer servers providing a soft soundtrack to this unexpected moment. "Um, I don't know," you admitted, still trying to navigate the strange turn the conversation had taken.
"Oh, I’m so sorry, did you two separate?" Spencer’s tone was filled with genuine apology, his face reflecting concern.
You managed a small, somewhat awkward laugh, finding both the absurdity and the sudden intimacy of the conversation slightly overwhelming. "Well, yes. A long while ago." Your response came out lighter than you felt, the surprise of the question making your heart race for reasons other than your usual nervousness around Spencer.
As Spencer absorbed your response, his expression remained unreadable, a common trait when he was deep in thought or processing information. He nodded, perhaps filing away the conversation for later reflection, before excusing himself with a polite but somewhat distant farewell. His departure was quick, efficient, the way he typically transitioned back to work, yet it left a trail of questions in its wake.
You watched him go, a blend of relief and curiosity mingling in your thoughts. The inquiry into your personal life was uncharacteristic of Spencer, who usually maintained a strict boundary between professional and personal discussions, at least when it came to initiating such topics himself. The interaction lingered in your mind, an outlier in the usual pattern of your interactions.
"Maybe it's because Elle isn't here," you thought silently, turning back to your computer.
After leaving your office, Spencer quickly texted Elle to update her that you were no longer seeing Felix, contrary to their assumption. Elle replied enthusiastically with two thumbs up, urging him to ask you out soon or she would take the opportunity herself.
—
Throughout the week, with Penelope, Elle, and Derek away, the dynamic at the BAU shifted noticeably. Spencer seemed to step out of his usual reserved demeanor, engaging more frequently, particularly with you. His attempts at conversation often appeared to teeter on the edge of something beyond mere professional interest, though it was so subtle that it often flew under your radar.
Tuesday morning, Spencer leaned against the counter, watching you struggle with the temperamental coffee machine that had decided today was the day to revolt. "You know, statistically, manual coffee presses have a lower failure rate compared to electric ones," he commented, a slight quirk to his lips.
You glanced at him, chuckling lightly, "Is that so? Maybe I should switch, then."
"Yeah, and they make better coffee. Maybe I could show you how to use one sometime?" His tone was casual, but there was a tentative note to it, almost hopeful.
As the coffee machine finally sputtered to life, producing a somewhat decent cup of coffee, Spencer’s offer lingered in the air, subtly altering the atmosphere between you. His suggestion about the manual coffee press had been light, almost playful, but it carried an undercurrent of personal interest that left you unexpectedly flustered. Despite this, you masked your reaction with a casual nod, trying to maintain an even keel.
"Sure, I could always use better coffee," you responded, your voice steady despite the slight quickening of your heartbeat. You focused on fixing your coffee, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar, using the mundane task as a moment to collect your thoughts.
Spencer watched you for a moment, perhaps sensing the shift in your demeanor but respecting the boundary you subtly enforced with your nonchalant reply. His smile was gentle, not pushing further, as he too turned his attention back to preparing his own drink.
Wednesday at lunch you sat in the break room flipping through case files, Spencer slid into the seat across from you with his own lunch—a homemade sandwich seemingly crafted with meticulous care. "I read somewhere that sharing meals can enhance group bonding and individual rapport," he began, looking directly at you with an earnest expression.
You looked up, smiling at the factoid, you loved hearing Spencer talk. He was always so endearing. "That sounds about right. Food does bring people together."
"Maybe we could test that theory. There's a new Thai place nearby that’s supposed to be great," he suggested, his voice smooth but slightly hurried.
"That would be an interesting experiment," you agreed, your thoughts inadvertently glossing over Spencer's subtle personal invitation. Instead, your mind wandered to the social dynamics of the team, or perhaps more pointedly, the possibility of Spencer going out with Elle without having to extend a direct invitation—an idea that stoked a twinge of jealousy, burning in your stomach like an ugly green monster.
Spencer nodded, his expression shifting subtly as he detected the undercurrent of your thoughts, interpreting them as disinterest in a personal outing. He tried to mask any hint of disappointment, maintaining his typical composed demeanor. Internally, however, he wrestled with the sting of what felt like another missed connection, another attempt at reaching out quietly rebuffed.
"It would be a great way to explore some new flavors... maybe just the two of us first, to see if it’s worth recommending to the team?" His tone was measured, carefully modulating between casual and sincere, revealing his hope that this might pave the way to a more personal connection between the two of you.
Despite his clear wording, your mind twisted his intentions, clouded by the assumption that his ultimate aim was to impress Elle upon her return. This idea gnawed at you, the thought of being potentially used as a stepping stone in Spencer’s strategy to engage Elle more personally. It tainted the sincerity you might have otherwise perceived in his proposal.
"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan," you responded, trying to mask your feelings with a nod and a polite smile. "Testing it out sounds sensible... then we can tell Elle and the rest if it's good." Your voice carried a hint of forced cheerfulness as you inadvertently redirected the focus back to Elle, reinforcing your misinterpretation of Spencer's motives.
Spencer noticed the subtle shift in your tone, the slight stiffness in your smile. He paused, a flicker of confusion crossing his features as he tried to gauge whether his message had been misunderstood. "Yes, of course," he agreed, his voice faltering slightly as he picked up on your emphasis on Elle. Disappointment edged into his heart, sensing a barrier he hadn't anticipated—one that perhaps wasn't his to cross just yet.
He nodded slowly, offering a gentle smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll send you the details later then," Spencer added, stepping back to give you space, his mind busy piecing together where the conversation had veered off track.
Thursday while you were digging through old case files in the archives, Spencer wandered in, ostensibly looking for a book. He lingered by your side, helping to shift the heavy tomes. "You know, there's this book on cognitive science I think you'd really like. It talks about pattern recognition and emotional intelligence in ways I think you'd find fascinating," he offered, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed you a different file.
"Sounds intriguing," you responded, your attention still partially on the file in your hands. The hint of a smile played at the corners of your mouth, touched by the realization that Spencer was not only paying attention to your interests but was actively thinking about ways to engage with you on a more personal level.
"I could lend it to you. We could discuss it over coffee?" Spencer's suggestion came with a hopeful undertone, as gentle and tentative as the expression in his eyes.
Your reaction, however, was immediate and unexpected—a sudden choke on your spit as his words caught you off guard. A brief fit of coughing ensued, and Spencer's concern was quick to surface. He reached out instinctively, placing a comforting hand on your back with a gentle touch. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.
The unexpected contact made you jolt, a reflexive response to the sudden intimacy of his touch. Realizing your reaction, Spencer quickly withdrew his hand, a flash of disappointment crossing his features as he stepped back, giving you space.
"Yeah, I'm fine, sorry," you managed to laugh it off, though your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You tried to smooth over the moment, still recovering from the unexpected cough and the even more unexpected contact.
Spencer's response was gentle, a soft nod accompanying his words. "It's okay, I'll, uh, see you upstairs," he said, stepping back with a hesitant smile. His decision to not press the coffee invitation further reflected his respect for your comfort, but inwardly, he felt he might have missed his opportunity for the day.
As he turned to leave, the brief contact and your embarrassed reaction replayed in his mind, leaving him wondering about the right approach to take next time. His intentions had been straightforward, but the execution hadn't gone as smoothly as he hoped. The way your eyes had widened, the laughter that followed the cough—it all suggested a mix of emotions that he couldn't quite decipher.
Watching him walk away, you felt a pang of regret. His retreat made you realize that your reaction might have been misinterpreted as discomfort, rather than the surprise and nervous excitement you actually felt. The idea of discussing a book over coffee with Spencer genuinely appealed to you, and you wished you could convey that without the awkwardness of the moment overshadowing it.
Gathering your thoughts, you considered reaching out to him later to clarify your interest, maybe even suggest a specific day for that coffee. The day hadn't gone as either of you planned, but it wasn't over yet, and perhaps there was still a chance to turn it around.
Friday afternoon as you both waited for the elevator, Spencer tried again, this time a bit more directly. "Did you know that the probability of meeting someone compatible is surprisingly high within work environments?"
You raised an eyebrow, trying to steady the rapid thumping of your heart. "Really now? I guess we’re in the right place, then."
"Yes, exactly," Spencer agreed, a bit more eagerly than you expected. "It’s like... finding the right piece in a puzzle."
"Like solving a case?" you asked, your voice shrinking with uncertainty, afraid that, once again, he had someone else in mind—someone who fit into his world effortlessly, maybe a profiler like Elle.
"Yeah," he smiled warmly, his eyes soft as they focused on you. "Just like solving a case."
Your heart cracked a little at his words. You interpreted the metaphor differently, convinced he was searching for someone like the other brilliant profilers on the team—someone you believed you could never be. With a forced smile, you said quietly, "Well, looks like you need a profiler-shaped puzzle piece then."
Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face as you stepped into the elevator. He stood there, frozen, not understanding the weight behind your words or why you seemed so distant.
As the elevator doors slid shut, he replayed the conversation in his mind, his heart sinking as he realized something wasn’t connecting. He had been trying to tell you, in his own way, that he was interested in you, that you were the piece he was talking about. But somehow, despite his best efforts, the message kept slipping through your fingers. Why weren’t you getting it? Why did every attempt seem to fall short?
Spencer watched the elevator descend, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. He had been so certain of his feelings for you, and yet, with every attempt, it felt like they drifted further away, lost in the unspoken misunderstandings between you.
—
When the freshly bronzed trio returned from their vacation, Spencer, seemingly on edge, wasted no time in seeking out Elle, his face etched with a mix of hope and frustration.
“So? Did you do it?” Elle asked eagerly as soon as they were within speaking distance, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Did she say yes?”
Spencer’s response was laden with disappointment. “Every time I try to ask her out, she thinks it’s a friendly suggestion, or—or she even mentioned you one time like I was thinking about you!” He ran his hand through his hair in exasperation, clearly puzzled by the recurring miscommunication.
Elle couldn’t help but laugh slightly, though her lips were closed, trying to mask her amusement at the situation. Spencer, on the other hand, whined in annoyance, “What?” He genuinely didn’t understand what he was missing.
With a fond smile, Elle prodded further, “Reid, how did you ask? And what did she say?” Her voice was gentle, coaxing him to unpack the details.
Spencer recapped all the moments from the past week—the coffee machine incident, the lunch invitation, the casual chat in the archives, and the awkward elevator conversation. Each retelling showcased his subtle, cerebral approach to what he thought were clear invitations.
“Oh, boy genius,” Elle said teasingly once he finished, her tone light but her words cutting to the heart of the issue. “I think I see the problem here.”
“What? What is it?” Spencer asked, desperation and confusion in his voice.
Elle placed her hand on his arm, a gesture meant to be comforting but one that did not escape your notice, intensifying the ache in your heart. “She thinks you’re interested in me!” Elle revealed, her insight sharp.
“Why would she think that?” Spencer asked, his bewilderment evident. The connection between his actions and your perception seemed utterly foreign to him.
Elle’s explanation was straightforward, “Because, Spencer, every time you make an attempt, it’s so subtle and wrapped in layers of intellect that it’s easy for her to miss the romantic intent.”
Her words seemed to pierce through the fog of confusion surrounding Spencer. The realization that his attempts at expressing romantic interest were getting lost in translation—or rather, lost in his own intellectual approach—was a revelation. He nodded slowly, the gears turning as he processed this new insight.
“Plus, if she’s mentioning me and no one else, she must think you’re looking for ways to take me out!” Elle added, emphasizing her point with a light chuckle, though her eyes remained sympathetic to Spencer’s plight.
The weight of Elle’s explanation settled heavily on Spencer. It dawned on him how his interactions, though well-intentioned, might appear to others, especially to you. His style, inherently analytical and often indirect, had inadvertently sent the wrong signals, steering your thoughts towards a narrative where he was interested in Elle rather than clarifying his feelings for you.
This misunderstanding struck a chord within him. Spencer had always prided himself on his communication skills when it came to the nuances of unsubs and case theories. Yet, here he was, stumped by personal emotions and interpersonal communications that veered off course.
“Okay, so... I’ve been too subtle,” Spencer acknowledged, almost to himself as much as to Elle. “And she’s misreading the subtlety as disinterest—or worse, interest directed at someone else.”
Elle nodded, squeezing his arm gently. “Exactly, Spencer. You’re thinking like a profiler trying to decipher hidden meanings, but sometimes, directness is key. Maybe it’s time to just tell her how you feel, plainly and clearly. No puzzles, no hints.”
“But—but what if she’s not interested?” Spencer stammered, the creeping sense of insecurity wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. His confidence from earlier was starting to erode. “I mean, she did turn me down on multiple occasions,” he added, his voice softening with self-doubt.
Elle sent him a playful glare, her expression one of disbelief. “Be serious, Reid,” she said, her tone firm but affectionate. “Everyone here can see that she’s into you. Ask anyone.”
Without giving Spencer a chance to stop her, Elle raised her voice, calling across the room, “Hey, JJ!”
Spencer's eyes widened in panic, his face flushing. “Elle! No!” His voice cracked as he tried to stop her, but it was too late.
JJ approached the two of them, a curious smile on her face as she looked between Spencer and Elle. “What’s up, you guys?” she asked, her easy going demeanor not yet aware of the situation she was about to walk into.
“Do you think Y/N is into anyone? Should we set her up?” Elle asked with a mischievous smirk, clearly enjoying Spencer’s discomfort.
JJ’s reaction was immediate—she burst into laughter, glancing between Elle and the now-mortified Spencer. “Are you kidding?!” she laughed, unable to believe the question was even being asked.
“No! Do you have anyone in mind?” Elle pushed, her smirk widening as she kept the act going.
Spencer looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, his mortification plain as he stood there frozen. His mind raced, desperate to find a way to steer the conversation away from himself. But JJ, still chuckling, fixed her gaze directly on Spencer, her expression turning to amused confusion.
“Spencer? Duh! She’s basically in love with you!” JJ declared, her blunt response leaving no room for misunderstanding.
Spencer blinked in disbelief, his mind stumbling over the directness of JJ's words. "W-What?" he stammered, his heart pounding in his chest.
JJ just shook her head, laughing softly. “Reid, it's so obvious. Trust me, you should ask her out.”
"Right," Spencer exhaled heavily, the weight of his nerves tangible in that single word. His eyes followed JJ as she walked away, her knowing smile and shake of her head a clear sign that she was rooting for him.
Elle, observing the entire interaction, turned back to Spencer with a look of determination. “Do you believe me now? You just need to be blunt,” she said firmly, reinforcing the advice with her unwavering gaze. Her stance was one of staunch support, wanting to push Spencer past his habitual overthinking.
Spencer nodded, feeling a bit more fortified by the support of his colleagues. Elle’s insistence on being blunt was exactly the nudge he needed. It was clear that subtlety had not served him well in this arena, and it was time for a change in strategy.
—
Throughout the week, Spencer made several more attempts to ask you out, each time with a bit more directness than the last, but somehow the message never quite landed. Each time deepening his frustration and your oblivious disappointment.
Spencer joined you at the coffee machine again, a site of many a casual encounter but today, he was armed with determination. "I was thinking," he began, carefully measuring his words, "that maybe you and I could try that new café downtown this Saturday."
You smiled, stirring your coffee absentmindedly, your mind on a deadline you were close to missing. "That sounds like a great break from work. It’ll be good to get the team out and about. Should I send an email to everyone?"
Spencer’s heart sank a little. "Uh, well, I meant more like a... never mind. Yes, let’s get everyone involved," he conceded, hiding his disappointment.
In the midst of discussing a particularly complex case, Spencer tried to weave in a personal invitation as naturally as he could. "And after we wrap this up, maybe you’d like to join me for dinner? I know a place that’s quiet, great for discussing... cases."
You nodded, focused intensely on the case details. "Oh yeah! I already told Pen I’d grab dinner with her after the case, do you want to join us?"
Spencer’s heart sank just a bit as he adjusted his glasses, a gesture that had become a telltale sign of his internal resignation. His intention of a quiet dinner, meant to create a private space for you and him, vanished with your invitation to Penelope. Still, he managed a smile, not wanting his disappointment to show.
“Sure, that sounds great,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his tone light and cheerful. Inside, however, he was strategizing his next move, wondering how he could ever convey his feelings without the constant backdrop of the team.
As the day progressed, his mind kept circling back to the conversation. He appreciated your inclusiveness—always making sure no one felt left out, a trait he admired deeply. Yet, he couldn’t help but wish for a moment where it could just be the two of you, away from the dynamics and distractions of the team.
As you both walked to the parking lot after a long day, Spencer decided to be as clear as he could. "I enjoy spending time with you," he said earnestly. "I was hoping we could maybe go out this weekend, just you and me. What do you think?"
You paused, turning to face him with a puzzled smile, unaware of the mounting frustration behind his calm demeanor. "Sure. What do you want to do? I heard of a nightclub that's supposed to have a disco on Saturdays, we could see if everyone is interested?”
Spencer’s patience, worn thin from repeated attempts, finally faltered. “That doesn’t really sound like my scene,” he replied, a note of desperation creeping into his voice as he motioned between the two of you. “Could we go somewhere more subdued? Just us?”
The simplicity of his request, paired with the intensity of his gesture, made you pause. "You want to hang out? With just me?" you asked, a hint of confusion lacing your words.
“Yes!” Spencer exclaimed, his voice echoing a bit louder than he intended in the quiet space between conversations around you. His hands were in the air, a gesture of his exasperation and earnestness. Realizing how his reaction might have seemed, he quickly lowered his hands and softened his tone. “I mean, yes, I would like to spend time with you. Just us. Maybe somewhere quiet where we can talk. Just... talk.”
Your heart was beating so fast you could barely contain it, “Just the two of us?”
The realization struck you fully now, the words "just the two of us" hanging in the air, tinged with possibility. Spencer nodded, his eyes earnest and hopeful, watching for your reaction.
"Yes, just the two of us," he confirmed, his voice steadier now, filled with a quiet intensity. His gaze never wavered from yours, as if trying to convey all the sincerity he felt directly into your heart.
Your heart raced with the understanding of what he was asking, the implications of this simple request suddenly reshaping the narrative you had constructed in your mind about his feelings. The thought that Spencer, with his brilliant mind and shy demeanor, wanted to spend time alone with you, not for a case discussion or team outing but for something personal, sent a thrill of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation through you.
"Yeah, Spencer," you grinned, your heart still racing but excitement slowly overtaking your nerves. "That sounds nice. Um, I'm free Saturday."
"Saturday works for me," Spencer nodded, his own smile broadening with quiet confidence. "I'll call you?"
You nodded quickly, almost too eagerly, but you didn’t care. "Yeah, mhm, that sounds perfect."
For a moment, you both stood there, a shared anticipation buzzing in the air between you, neither wanting to break the connection just yet. When Spencer finally turned to leave, you found yourself smiling uncontrollably, the prospect of Saturday lingering in your mind, a warmth spreading through you that hadn't been there before.
—
Your excitement about the upcoming date with Spencer bubbled within you, yet you chose to keep it close to your chest. The thrill of it all felt so fragile, like a dream you didn’t want to jinx by sharing too soon with the rest of the team. This cautious optimism marked your days, turning ordinary moments into a series of hopeful glances at the calendar as Saturday approached.
Meanwhile, Spencer found himself seeking counsel from Elle, who was all too eager to lend her expertise, not just on potential date activities but on the more intimate aspects of dating as well, particularly women. Knowing Spencer’s limited experience—his only kiss having been with Lila Archer during a particularly intense case—Elle took it upon herself to offer some advice.
“Okay, Spencer, listen,” Elle began, her tone both serious and sisterly. “If the moment feels right and you think you want to kiss her, make sure you read her signals. It’s all about mutual understanding and respect, right?”
Spencer nodded, absorbing every word. Elle continued, “Make eye contact, see how she responds. If she seems receptive, maybe lean in halfway and let her meet you the rest of the way. It’s a two-way street.”
“Halfway,” Spencer repeated, mentally noting the advice. Elle’s directness and her willingness to discuss these details without any embarrassment provided him with a strange comfort.
“And, Reid, just be yourself. You’re a great guy. Let that show,” Elle added, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
Spencer felt nerves and gratitude at Elle’s advice, it was straightforward and practical, and helped ground him. He trusted her judgment, appreciating her sharing of her personal experience, especially when it came to navigating relationships—something he found infinitely more complex than the most puzzling cases.
—
The phone call on Saturday morning added to the bubbling excitement of the upcoming date. Spencer’s voice was clear and a tad nervous, which you found endearing. He promised a unique experience and asked you not to wear black, a request that piqued your curiosity and set your mind racing with possibilities. What kind of place would require such a specific dress code? The mystery only heightened your anticipation.
You quickly texted him your address, along with a playful note about your curiosity regarding the attire guidelines. Spencer replied with a simple smiley face, keeping the details of the date under wraps, which intrigued you even more.
As you prepared for the evening, you chose an outfit that was comfortable yet charming, avoiding black as instructed. The time leading up to Spencer’s arrival seemed to crawl by, each minute stretching longer than the last. You found yourself glancing at your reflection, adjusting your hair, and double-checking everything, ensuring you were ready when he arrived.
Finally, the sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Glancing out the window, you saw Spencer stepping out of his car, looking around with a nervous excitement that matched your own.
As you stepped outside, your nerves fluttered slightly, but your smile was genuine when you saw Spencer waiting by his car. Waving shyly, you greeted him, "Hi, Spencer."
Spencer looked up, his eyes lighting up as he took in your appearance. "Y/N, you look great," he breathed out, his compliment wrapped in a warm smile that seemed to ease some of the tension between you.
"Thanks, I like your cardigan," you replied, noting the soft, well-worn cardigan he wore that somehow made him look even more approachable and endearing.
His smile widened at the compliment, and he seemed to relax a bit more. "Thanks! It's an old favorite," he admitted, holding the car door open for you.
As you both stepped into the cozy, softly-lit space filled with the gentle sounds of purring and the occasional meow, Spencer immediately began sharing interesting facts about cats. “Did you know that ancient Egyptians considered cats sacred and even had a goddess named Bastet who was depicted as a lioness?” he said, looking into your eyes as you walked past a playful tabby.
Your response was a mix of admiration and amusement. “I didn’t know you were an expert on ancient cultures too,” you teased, feeling comfort and excitement as Spencer chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the opportunity to share his knowledge.
While playing with a particularly friendly cat, Spencer used the opportunity to flirt in his unique way. He gently lifted the cat, holding it out towards you. “It’s interesting how animals can facilitate social interactions, isn’t it? For instance, it's been found that people are more likely to engage in conversations in the presence of animals. They act as social lubricants.”
You laughed, reaching out to pet the cat and feeling a bit flustered by his proximity and the way he looked at you when talking about social dynamics. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you needed a furry wingman for our date?”
Spencer grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Maybe, but it seems to be working, doesn’t it?”
“I don't know, say lubricant again,” you teased. Spencer's grin widened at your playful challenge, and the atmosphere between you sparked with a shared humor that made the moment light and enjoyable.
He leaned in slightly, adopting a mock-serious tone, "Lubricant," he repeated, emphasizing the word, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
You laughed even harder, your eyes bright with amusement. "Hearing you say 'lubricant' is so funny!"
Spencer, caught up in your joy, couldn’t help but laugh along. “Why?” he asked, his own grin wide as your laughter proved infectious.
"It’s just... it can be a dirtier word," you giggled, trying to explain through your laughter. "And I can’t imagine our resident genius using the word lubricant!"
Spencer's laughter joined yours, ringing out genuinely as he caught the playful jab. The lightness of the moment brought a relaxed glow to his features. "I assure you, the application of the word was purely scientific," he teased back, still chuckling.
The café around you seemed to buzz with the warmth of your shared amusement, creating an intimate bubble amidst the quiet hum of other patrons and the soft padding of cat paws. "I suppose," Spencer continued, his smile lingering, "I should be more careful with my vocabulary around you. You're giving me a whole new perspective on language."
Your laughter gradually subsided into a series of light chuckles, but your eyes were bright with delight. "I think I like this side of you, Spencer," you said, a playful sincerity in your voice. "It’s nice to see you in a different light, not just as the genius profiler but also someone who can joke around about...lubricants."
Spencer's eyes softened, clearly touched by your words. "I'm glad," he said softly, his voice carrying a note of appreciation. "It’s not often I get to show this side, and I’m happy to share it with you."
As you observed the cats seemingly gravitate towards Spencer, who seemed both amused and delighted by their attention, an idea sparked in your mind. It was the perfect segue into a lighthearted flirtation, mixing your shared love for animals with a touch of mystical charm.
"You know, it’s said that animals, especially cats, have a keen sense of good and bad," you started, watching Spencer's reaction as a particularly fluffy cat chose his lap as its new throne. "They're often drawn to people with good auras. I guess they must sense something pretty great about you."
Spencer looked up, his expression a mix of surprise and pleasure at your comment. He laughed softly, a sound that warmed you to the core. "Is that so? Well, I must be on the right track then. Maybe they sense my excellent choice in company for this evening," he replied smoothly, his gaze locking with yours in a moment charged with a gentle intensity as a cat nuzzled its way into your lap as well.
Your heart fluttered slightly at his words, and you smiled, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Oh, so we’re using cat behavior to gauge our decisions now?" you teased back, leaning in a little closer. "In that case, I think they’re on to something because I’m feeling pretty good about my choice too."
Spencer’s smile widened, and he reached over to gently nudge a playful kitten back onto the table, his actions thoughtful and tender. "I'll take that as a high compliment, coming from someone who clearly knows her way around cats and their mysterious ways," he said, his voice soft but filled with an underlying warmth that suggested he was as affected by the exchange as you were.
As the evening wound down, and the café began to prepare for closing, Spencer drove you home. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself sharing little anecdotes from your childhood, while Spencer listened intently, always eager to learn more about you.
Before you knew it, you were standing in front of your home. The end of the evening had come too quickly, a sentiment you both silently acknowledged as you lingered at the doorstep, not quite ready to say goodbye.
"Y/N...I had a really nice time today," he said, his voice carrying a warmth that seemed to wrap the evening in a perfect close.
"Me too, Spencer, thank you for asking me. I was kind of shocked," you admitted, your words sincere and open. The evening had unfolded beautifully, but part of you had still been wrestling with the disbelief that it was all really happening.
"Really? Why?" Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his gaze intent on you, wanting to understand more.
You smiled shyly, a nervous habit kicking in as you rubbed behind your ear. "I just... liked you for so long, I never thought you were interested in me too," you confessed, the words tumbling out more easily than you'd expected. The truth had been a quiet companion for so long, and saying it aloud to Spencer felt both freeing and terrifying.
Spencer's expression softened even further, a gentle understanding coloring his features. "Y/N, I’ve been trying to ask you out for two weeks," he confessed. His chuckle was light, trying to ease the tension.
Spencer's revelation brought a mix of relief and amusement. "Really? I had no idea you were trying," you replied, a smile breaking across your face, reflecting both the surprise and joy of the moment.
He nodded, a bit of sheepishness showing through his usual composed demeanor. "Yes, it turns out I'm not as skilled in expressing personal interest as I am with criminal profiles," he admitted, his light laughter mingling with yours.
The air between you felt lighter, a shared understanding dawning that, despite the initial miscommunications, there was a genuine and mutual interest. "Well, I'm glad you kept trying," you said, your tone sincere. "And I'm sorry I didn't pick up on it sooner. I guess I was just scared to get my hopes up."
Spencer reached across the small space between you, his hand hesitating just a moment before gently taking yours. "No more missed signals, okay? Let's promise to be more straightforward with each other," he suggested, his gaze steady and reassuring.
You nodded, squeezing his hand in agreement, feeling a warmth spread through you at the contact. "It's a deal," you responded, your heart feeling both settled and exhilarated by the new promise laid between you.
“So... in honor of being straightforward…” Spencer began, his voice soft but steady, a shy smile playing on his lips. He stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours, a quiet vulnerability in his gaze. Gently, he took both of your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “Can I kiss you?”
Your heart raced, the moment feeling both tender and surreal. The way he held your hands, the genuine care in his voice—it was everything you'd hoped for, wrapped in Spencer’s uniquely thoughtful way. You felt yourself nod before you even spoke, your breath catching slightly. “Yes,” you whispered, smiling softly, your eyes never leaving his.
Spencer’s smile deepened with relief and excitement. Slowly, he leaned in, his movements deliberate and gentle, giving you every moment to close the gap as well. When your lips finally met, it was soft, sweet, and full of the promise that had been building between you for so long. The world seemed to pause, leaving just the two of you in that quiet, intimate moment, finally aligned in your shared feelings.
When you pulled back, there was a brief silence before you both laughed lightly, the tension melting away completely. "That was… nice," Spencer said, his voice low, his smile radiating warmth.
"Yeah, it really was," you agreed, still feeling the butterflies in your chest as you held onto his hands just a little tighter.
“Oh, and for the record,” Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your reaction, “I don’t like Elle—romantically, of course. She’s my best friend.”
Your face flushed with sudden embarrassment, realizing he'd caught on to your earlier assumptions. “Oh, I—well, uh...” you stammered, struggling to find the right words.
Spencer's smile remained soft and reassuring. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he said warmly, squeezing your hands gently. “Elle is super gay, not sure how you missed that, and... I really like you.”
His words, so genuine and direct, melted away the last bit of tension you’d been holding onto. You laughed lightly, the awkwardness dissolving into relief. “Well, that’s good to know,” you said with a grin, finally allowing yourself to fully relax into the moment.
Spencer's grin mirrored yours as he added, “I just wanted to clear that up. No more misunderstandings.” His gaze softened as he looked at you, the weight of unspoken feelings now out in the open.
“No more misunderstandings,” you agreed, feeling the warmth of his words and the certainty that everything between you was finally where it should be.
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hiii! I read your last spencer one shot AND I LOVED IT! IT WAS SO SWEET AND YOU'RE SO TALENTED!! Would you write something about post prison reid and shy reader? I was thinking of her as the media liaison (in my mind she is old-fashioned in music and clothes I'd wear skirts everyday, her emotional intelligence makes her good at her job, despite her shyness). Maybe she's clumsy, especially when she gets nervous and more especially (I don't even know if that's grammatically correct) when she's around Spencer.
Thank you so much for reading this, you're doing an EXCELLENT job, your works are a masterpiece!! 💕💖💝💓💓💖💞💕💖💓
Make a Wish - S.R
a/n: eekkkkkk post-prison spencer reid has me in a CHOKEHOLD! thank you so much for requesting, i'm so sorry for the delay! i hope i did your request justice!! I LOVE LOVE YOU!
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pairings: post prison!spencer reid x shy!reader
wc: 0.9k
You had been meaning to give the reports fastened in your hands to Spencer for give-or-take two hours now. Each time you gathered the courage to approach him, just one glance, one simple stupid glance from those piercing eyes set your nerves on fire and sent your brain in overdrive.
As the new media liaison from the narcotics unit, you were warned about the BAU's intimidating figures, particularly Rossi and Emily. However, no warning came regarding Spencer Reid. They mentioned his tendencies for long-winded explanations and awkward social interactions but not the aura of intensity he exuded. Whenever he entered a room, you instinctively started looking for an exit, not because of his criminal record, but because you found yourself hopelessly mesmerized by him.
He was perfect in every sense of the word—brilliant, compassionate, selfless, and an exceptional agent. At least, this is what you had observed from afar. A part of you was scared that any real interaction with him would shatter the idyllic image you had crafted in your head, and you weren't confident you were prepared for such disillusionment. However, you needed to give him these damn papers, dreading the alternative, which was getting summoned to Emily's office.
"Hi."
You did it, okay, first step complete. You opened your mouth, determined to get out the next part you had practiced a little over twenty times in your head, but the words seemed to dissipate into a misty fog in your brain.
"Um, these are for you," you said, rocking back onto the balls of your mary janes, placing the report on his desk. "It's the Henderson lie detector test transcript?"
"Is it?"
You realized you had said it like a question.
You paused, the part of your brain stuttering for a second, trying to flip over the thousands of scenarios you had rehearsed in your head for this interaction. None of them had included those words.
Just a little off script and you felt your fight or flight kick in—nails digging into your palms as you avoided eye contact.
"Yes." A little more confident this time, not by much, and it quickly deflated as you second guessed yourself, stepping closer to peer over his shoulder at the document. "At least I think."
"I'm just messing with you, it is." He said, eyes flickering down to the document, then to you. "You okay?"
"M-Me? Okay? Yeah, of course." The words were stumbling out of your mouth at a rate that was hard to keep up with. "Do I not look okay?"
"No, of course you look okay," he responded, brows knitting together as his gaze traveled down your body, no doubt dissecting your every thought. "You just seem... a bit nervous."
You opened your mouth, aiming to articulate a coherent thought, but it fell short and was quickly interrupted by Spencer.
He suddenly leaned in, his eyes narrowing. "Wait, hold still; you have an eyelash."
He was so close, you swore you feel his breath on your cheeks, instantly warming them. Your body was in overdrive, trying to recalibrate as his finger grazed the area under your right eye. You closed your eyes, almost unwillingly, relishing in the unexpected touch.
This was weird. Every nerve in your body was on high alert, and you balled your hand into a fist, attempting to mask the way you were shaking.
The sound of your name snapped you out of your daze. Your eyes followed suit, meeting Spencer's prying eyes. His finger was raised, your eyelash perched on the tip. Your face could have been a furnace, flames of heat spreading from your neck to your nose.
"Do you want to make a wish?"
He looked at you expectantly, eyes darting from your face to his raised pointer finger.
"Okay."
You closed your eyes, forming the wish in your mind before blowing on the lash. You watched it float to the ground, settling gently on the toe of Spencer's shoe.
"What did you wish for?"
"I feel like I'm not supposed to tell you that," you say, pulling at the ends of your hair.
He was undeniably good-looking. It wasn't like you were just realizing it; you had eyes and you were only human. But up close, you could see every detail—the dark circles under his eyes, the rough stubble under his jaw.
"I think you're right."
The sudden intimacy of the moment made your heart skip a beat. You stepped back, nodding at his words and also nothing in particular.
"Anyway, yeah, those are the papers—," you began, turning to walk away. As you did, you bumped your hip into the desk beside you, hissing under your breath in response.
"Christ, are you okay?" His hand was on your hip as the words came out of his mouth.
The touch only seemed to intensify your embarrassment. You stepped out of his grip, dropping your phone as you did which you quickly bent down to pick up.
"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine, just forgot I have a meeting with Emily, so I'm just gonna—," you pointed towards her office, quickly making your escape from Spencer as you tried to catch your breath.
Once you were a distance you deemed safe enough, you allowed yourself a quick glance back at him. He was smirking, and you felt that all familiar heat rising into your chest once again.
You really hoped that wish would kick in soon.
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x shy!reader#post prison!spencer reid x reader#post prison reid#criminal minds fluff
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Can An Old Man Do This?
Summary: Watching Twilight with Bucky leads to to sex. Sounds about right.
Pairing: Bucky x Female!reader
Warnings: Degradation kink, dirty talk, facials
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 2k
Watching the Twilight movies with your boyfriend was surely a rite of passage. 16 year old you would be squealing if she knew that one day, you’d be dating someone as broody and stoic as your favorite fictional vampire, Edward Cullen.
You had managed to convince Bucky to curl up and bed and watch the first movie with you, telling him it was essential for his ever-growing knowledge of pop culture.
“Okay, this is too weird,” Bucky concluded as Edward and Bella danced on-screen at her prom. “This whole movie is flawed. Why would a vampire family feel the need to go to high school?”
“To blend in,” you said simply. You were sat with your back against the headboard with Bucky lying with his head resting against your bare thighs - you hadn't even bothered to change out of your pajama tank top and shorts. He was in a pair of gray sweatpants and an unbuttoned shirt, the epitome of a lazy Sunday as his fingernails grazed softly against the flesh of your leg.
He tilted his head back to look at you, rolling his eyes. “And going to high school is the way to do that? They could be doing literally anything else.”
“Don’t think too hard about the logic behind it,” you said, your fingers toying with locks of his hair.
“And Edward is over 100 years old? Going after a 17 year old? Something’s not right with that.”
You snorted, amused by Bucky’s dissection of the movie.
“How old are you again?”
“It’s not the same,” Bucky shot back.
“C’mon,” you teased, “what’s an old man doing going after a much younger woman?”
Bucky sat up then, the muscles in his abdomen rippling and flexing. He hit pause on the movie and knocked the laptop aside, rolling on top of you so that his knees were between yours, easing your legs apart.
“What did you just call me?” He challenged, hands reaching for your hips and tugging down sharply so that you slid down onto your back with a gasp.
You knew exactly what direction this was heading in as Bucky’s lips moved to your neck, his teeth softly scraping against the surface like he wanted to bite. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, and you moaned softly as his teeth nibbled on your skin.
"Bucky..."
"Say it again," he murmured, his hands sliding up beneath your shirt to cup your breast. Your nipple hardened as he played with it, and he chuckled. "You like being felt up by this old man, huh?"
"Nuh-uh," you spluttered unconvincingly as Bucky's other hand reached down to palm your crotch, applying pressure to your clit. Arousal was flooding through every nerve ending, and you resisted the urge to grind up into his hand for more.
"I think you do," Bucky disagreed. "I think you like being used by me. Being fucked senseless by me."
He sat back and you mewled involuntarily at the loss of his touch against your body, but was quickly silenced when Bucky shrugged off his shirt and tossed it aside. You reached forward to tug at his sweatpants, but his hands shot out to pin your arms above your head.
"Not so fast, sweetheart," he said, though you could see how hard he was already. He just loved to see you squirm.
"Please, Bucky," you said, knowing exactly what he liked to hear. "Don't you think I deserve your cock? Don't you want to fuck my mouth?"
Bucky groaned then, placing his fingers inside your mouth for you to lick hungrily.
"You really think you deserve to suck my dick?" He grunted, though he was already peeling off his sweatpants like his life depended on it. He lay back and easily maneuvered you like a doll so that you were on top, gesturing to his groin.
"Show me what that pretty mouth can do, my love."
You complied eagerly, easing down his boxer briefs and releasing his cock in all its glory. It sprang to attention, red and stiff and oh-so-thick, waiting to be plunged into your mouth.
Giving Bucky blowjobs was one of your favorite things in the world. You loved looking up at his expression as you delivered pleasure with your tongue - it was thrilling knowing that you were the one to elicit such noises from his mouth.
You licked the length of his shaft slowly, teasingly, massaging his balls with one hand as you reached the tip of his dick. You flicked the head of it with your tongue before taking as much of it as you could into your mouth. You loved how heavy it felt, the weight of his cock on your tongue. It made you unbelievably wet, and you could feel yourself soaking through your panties as Bucky threaded his hands through your hair, gently helping you bob up and down.
You pulled off long enough to quickly gasp, "Use me, Bucky." It was more of a plea than an order, and it made his expression darken with arousal.
His fingers tightened - not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you moan around his cock - as he pushed your head down so that you were forced to take it to the root, almost choking on it. He knew you loved it.
Bucky continued to pull you on and off his cock, throwing his head back with a guttural moan. If you continued on like this, he knew he could definitely cum without a problem. But right now, he needed to get inside you.
"I need your pussy," he grunted as you pulled his cock out of your mouth with a pop, gasping for air. Tears were coming out of the corners of your eyes, and he loved how disheveled you looked.
You were obedient, crawling up towards him and positioning yourself over his length. You could barely hold in your shivers of anticipation as he lined himself up with your entrance and moved his hands to your waist, guiding you as you slowly sank down onto him.
The moment the tip of his dick breached his entrance was one of your favorite feelings. There wasn't anything else quite like it. You loved how it felt when he stretched you open, making your mouth open into a silent scream.
He let you still for a moment as you settled down onto his cock, letting yourself get used to fullness of it. He studied your face carefully, eyes roving down to your breasts, your thighs.
"You okay, baby?" He asked gently, resisting the urge to thrust up inside you.
"I'm okay," you said breathlessly. You began to roll your hips, grinding on his cock whilst you watched Bucky's eyes practically roll back into their sockets.
"Oh fuck. Yes - that's it, you pretty little slut," he groaned. Those words were all it took to get you going, and you began bouncing on his cock like a bunny, wanting to drive him crazy.
"Oh God. You feel so good inside me," you moaned, somehow wanting Bucky to go deeper.
"You like it, hm? You're just my little cockslut, aren't you? Serving me so well, doing your duties," he grunted, his hands slapping your ass hard.
"Yes, yes, yes," you chanted, your brain unable to string together a coherent thought. "Bucky - be mean to me," you mewled, wanting him to be rougher, to make you scream.
"Be mean to you?" He repeated teasingly with a smirk on his lips. He pulled you off his cock, sitting up and motioning for you to get on your knees. He loved fucking you doggy-style, and you eagerly presented yourself to him as he knelt behind you.
You felt him slap his cock against your entrance a few times, covering himself with your slick.
"How hard do you want me to fuck your tight little cunt?" He asked.
"As hard as you can," you begged.
"Hmmm." He pretended to ponder, before suddenly sheathing himself inside you, making you grip the pillows hard with both your hands.
"Oh - Bucky!" Your voice was pitchy and weak as he thrust into you, his hand on the back of your neck to press you down. His other hand landed strike after strike on your ass cheeks, turning them red.
"Tell me, can an old man fuck you like this? Turn you into a trembling mess?"
"N-no," you spluttered as he moved his hands to your hips instead and began pulling you onto his cock, hard.
"God, you feel so good. Can't wait to cum inside you, mark you as mine," he grunted, throwing his head back at the pleasure of it.
"Want you - to cum - on my face," you gasped, your sentence faltering with each snap of Bucky's hips.
"Want me to cum on your face?" Bucky repeated mockingly, pulling out and ordering you to turn around to face him. You did so obediently, rolling over and barely able to prepare yourself before Bucky slid inside you again, eyes locked on yours.
"Are you sure you don't want me to cum inside your pussy? On your tits? In your ass?" He was toying with your frustrations, knowing how much you loved the feeling of him releasing on your face, the absolute debauchery of it.
"Please, Bucky. Want you on my face," you panted.
Bucky felt like he could go on fucking you for hours, but with the way you were behaving now, he knew he wouldn't last long. He latched onto your nipple with his mouth, sucking and flicking it with his tongue as you moaned at the over stimulation, his other hand reaching down to rub at your clit.
"I'm gonna cum, Bucky!" He knew exactly the right amount of pressure to apply as he continue to roll his thumb over the bundle of nerves. He released your breast to kiss your mouth inside, his tongue plunging into yours as he groaned.
"Cum for me, baby. Cum on my fat cock, you pretty little whore."
You felt yourself reach the climax all too suddenly, your body shuddering as it sparked through every inch of you like an electric shock, sending chills down your spine. You clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle your screams, Bucky continuing to thrust his cock inside you to carry you through the waves.
"Oh God - Bucky - too - too sensitive," you said, pushing his hand away from your pulsating clit as he continue to fuck you senselessly.
"Fuck, I'm going to cum," he grunted, gritting his teeth as he quickly pulled out of you. His hand stroked up and down his own cock as he knelt above you, sending thick ropes of his cum onto your face, into your open mouth. It was so warm and wet, splashing onto the pillow beneath your head and even onto the headboard.
He stroked his cock several more times, making sure to milk his dick of every last drop of cum, painting your skin with it. His knees eventually buckled and he fell on top of you, gasping.
"Oh God, that was fucking good," he said as he planted butterfly kissed all over your neck and collarbone. He looked at your face, covered in white ropes, making his softening cock twitch. "You look so pretty like that."
You were still trying to catch your breath even as Bucky gently rolled off you and quickly retrieved some tissues from the nightstand, wiping the evidence off your face as you blushed deeply. He was always so sweet after fucking you so roughly, looking after you and cleaning you up.
After you'd had a solid ten minutes to recover, he kissed your forehead sweetly, tendering stroking your cheek.
"Let's shower together, then I'll make you lunch?" He asked, making you pout.
“We haven’t finished the Twilight series yet,” you said.
“There’s more?”
“Four more.”
“I’m telling you, Nat. The Twilight movies are an aphrodisiac.”
#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes#sebastian stan#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barns x you#bucky#bucky barns imagine#bucky x female reader#bucky smut
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where you belong [3/10]
Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader
Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.
Note: Hahaha almost 7.3k words, I'm so sorry. I almost completely removed this chapter, but I wanted to do a little bit more showing Law and Reader's relationship. :) If you'd like a song to listen to as you read, Clock Strikes by One OK Rock is what I was listening to as I wrote parts of this. 💚
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[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2]
Law takes his time telling you about his childhood and time with Corazon. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, especially knowing how you react when Ace is brought up, he’s not sure he can deal with you crying over the things that have happened to him. He also needs the time to work out his own feelings, trying to keep from choking up himself when he remembers everything, even though when it happens you quietly take his hand to try and provide some comfort, like he's done for you.
He never shakes your hand off his, just pushes down the pain and tears and keeps talking to you.
He starts by telling you about his family and life in Flevance. His mother and father, how wonderful and brilliant they were, how much they loved him. His little sister Lami, who adored him more than anything in the world, she always wanted him to join her during the festivals in Flevance. He loved his family more than anything, they meant the world to him back then. You smile when he tells you about the first time his parents let him take Lami to get ice cream, by themselves, and how she dropped hers, so he had to share with her.
While he doesn’t remember too much, he does tell you about his friends from the church nearby. They’d all been classmates too, spending their days going through normal classes and sometimes the boys, Law included, would catch frogs to dissect and gross out the girls. He remembers all the festivals, the neighbors he’d pass by every day, the old lady next door that always tried to get him to eat bread for some reason.
Law tries to make it easy for you, the first day is only about his family and friends. Nothing about the destruction of Flevance yet, he takes a bit to get there, and it affects him just like it does you, it still does to this day.
He really does try to keep his emotions in check, but once he begins to remember how it felt to see Lami sick with the white lead disease, he starts to struggle with keeping his voice steady.
“I…I was horrified when we realized she was sick,” Law has to stop and take a breath, swallowing down the tears he feels trying to slip out, “I didn’t want to watch her die.”
Nodding, you don’t say anything, you don’t want to interrupt his thoughts as he works them out and how to voice them. You just grip his hand a little tighter, which Law returns before he continues, reliving when his home was destroyed by the World Government.
“I left the hospital after I found my parents were dead, I was going to find the nun who had told me some Marines were going to sneak us kids out, so we could get Lami and go,” you can already tell where this is going, while Law grits his teeth remembering everything as vividly as he does, “She had been killed too, all my friends from the church…the hospital was burned down with…with Lami still inside…”
“Law…I’m so sorry…”
“I escaped in a mass of corpses, I had to get out somehow. That was the only way. I, eventually, I found Doflamino and his crew, and worked to join them when I was ten.”
Both of you quiet, you’re trying to take everything in, and Law is trying to get past his feelings again, he hates talking about all of this. Every time someone new joins his crew, he waits a while to make sure they’re trustworthy before he tells them anything.
But he believed you should know, even though you aren’t staying forever, and now you’re slowly learning everything.
You know when he’s done talking for the time being once he becomes quiet, you’ve noticed that about him over the last several months, allowing you to hug him though he doesn’t return it. He does appreciate it though, you don’t ask him to tell you more than what he’s ready to, taking it all at the pace Law sets for this.
“It’s getting late,” you hadn’t even notice until Law brings it up, but it is starting to look dark outside, “Everyone will be back for dinner soon.”
Law can’t help the slight smile that comes to his face when you sniffle a bit and nod, rubbing at your eyes with your sleeve. He didn’t fully expect you to start crying but he’s also not surprised, he figures it must bring out your own feelings of protectiveness and sibling love towards Luffy. Once he stands, Law holds his hand out to help you up which you gladly take, but you pull him into another hug that, this time, he gently returns.
“Thank you, again, for trusting me…”
“I hope you won’t betray that.”
“I would never!”
Law laughs a bit at your shocked expression, while you smile and kiss his cheek, something you’d started doing more recently. He’s gotten more used to it; it doesn’t affect him the same way it did the first time. He likes it, but tries to make sure none of his crew are around to see it, to avoid any kind of teasing that may come from it.
“See you at dinner, Law!”
“Mm-hm.”
Watching you leave before going back to his desk, Law thinks that went better than he could have expected. He expected more tears from you than he got, but he’s glad he didn’t have to spend several minutes calming you down before you left. He has to take some time to relax himself after dredging up those memories, but maybe next time he’ll tell you some happier ones he remembers, not just about his family but about Cora-san too.
~~
Before he even has the chance to tell you about his time with Corazon, Law is hit with several nightmares, all flashbacks to that night, something he never expected to happen. He believed he’d gotten past it all, but it seems the thought of telling you everything was causing it all to resurface and disturb his sleep (not like he gets much anyway).
He's good at hiding it though, you don’t question the dark circles under his eyes, even if they look darker to you lately. He tells you it’s nothing when you ask, convinced that’s enough for you even though you give him a skeptical look before going on your way. Law thinks you’re going to let it go, he can take care of himself. He’s handled this before on his own, before his crew came to be and he had friends to help him.
He can handle it again, he swears he can.
But it gets worse, especially after Law does tell you about Corazon, everything they went through to save him, and how his savior died to protect him. It keeps you up some nights afterwards, thinking about it all more than you should, and you know that wasn’t Law’s intention. He wasn’t trying to upset you or garner sympathy, it was simply his life story, and he felt like you needed to know. Like he wants you to understand why he’s started the plans he has, with stealing the hearts of other pirates to become a Warlord, the rest of his plans he won’t tell you about for whatever reason.
It probably would be strange to outsiders, but you’re surprisingly okay with it all. You aren’t a permanent member of the Heart Pirates, you don’t need to know all the details.
Still though, you feel like something is off, not with you but with Law and how you two are now. You’ve noticed how tired he is lately, he almost seems to doze off during the crew meetings he lets you in on, at least until someone says his name and it wakes him enough. He still seems to yawn more than normal, it’s what led you to be standing in front of his office door so late tonight, you want to make sure he’s doing okay or see if he needs anything. You feel nervous and you’re not sure why, while you quietly knock on the door and wait to hear if Law calls you in.
When he doesn’t, you open the door and call for him.
“Law? I was going to make some tea and was wondering if you want any…”
You don’t get a response since he’s asleep at his desk, your first thought being that at least he’s sleeping. You’re glad to know that until you realize it is not a peaceful sleep and he seems to be having a nightmare from the distressed look on his face.
Oh that makes so much sense.
You had hoped it was just the stress of everything going on that was keeping Law from sleeping, not that he was having his sleep disturbed by nightmares. Of what, you don’t know yet, but you feel the need to wake him.
“Law? Hey,” you’re quiet as you set your hand on his shoulder, hoping that wakes him, “Law, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
It does work to wake him, but also startles Law to the point he nearly knocks himself out of his chair when he wakes and sits up, eyes wide when he looks at you but not really, you know he’s still waking up.
You mostly know that when he barely whispers ‘Cora-san’ and it makes you realize what he’s been suffering from in his sleep. The memories have come back fiercely and it makes your heart ache for him knowing everything he’s gone through.
You’ve suffered worse than you let on.
Once his eyes focus and Law sees it’s you with him, he worries he’s let things slip about the nightmare, especially when he sees how concerned you look.
“What…[Y/N]-ya, what…what time—”
“It’s after midnight. I was checking to see if you wanted tea but,” he doesn’t say anything but you watch him as he rubs at his eyes with his sleeve, you wonder briefly if it’s sleep or tears he's trying to get rid of, “I noticed you weren’t sleeping well…are you okay?”
No I’m not.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure?”
Law nods, waving your hand off his shoulder before turning back to his desk.
“I am.”
He’s certain you don’t believe him, based on the face you make as you nod, before shaking your head.
“You don’t really expect me to just accept that answer, do you?”
I wish you would.
Before he even responds, you take his hand and pull him up out of his chair, which also surprises him though he is still waking up fully
He doesn’t even fight when you start to drag him towards his bedroom, or when you get him in there and tell him to change for bed, you’re going to go make some tea for the two of you real quick.
While he does get ready for bed, he doesn’t expect you to stay long after you return with the drinks. He fully expects you to hand his over and leave, going back to your room to sleep, not for you to climb into his bed beside him and give him a smile like you’re wanting to talk before going to sleep. Law just stares at you for a moment, before he speaks.
“Do you want to talk about something…?”
“Hmm? Oh, um! Well, I…was going to stay with you tonight.”
“…why?”
You become quiet, Law halfway expects you to decide to leave, telling him goodnight before doing so. You don’t need to stay, he’s fine on his own. He’ll get over the nightmares again soon, he’s sure of that.
“I have nightmares too…about Ace…”
He really shouldn’t be as surprised as he is, but he never thought you’d be struggling like this too. With the fears that come from having witnessed such tragedy and the resulting pain, perhaps he should’ve expected that though. After all the times he’s held you through your breakdowns over Ace’s death, he should’ve known you’d be having nightmares too. But you’ve hid it so well, you’ve handled things all on your own once again, just like he has.
Maybe it’s time we both accept some help.
“Sometimes I…,” you bite your lip before shaking your head, “The nightmares, are about if you hadn’t saved Luffy. So…let me help you tonight, Law…just for a bit?”
“…okay…”
Law isn’t sure how long you two stay awake that night talking, all he knows is that, eventually, he wakes up to someone knocking heavily on his door but he’s not able to move at first. You’ve got his head held against your chest, still fast asleep yourself, no signs of waking but he’s nearly frozen in place when he realizes what’s going on. It takes a moment or two for Law to decide what to do, internally yelling at himself about how on earth this happened and how does he get out of this without someone thinking something scandalous is going on.
He's lucky enough that you release him and roll over in your sleep, he doesn’t have to figure out how to get out of your arms on his own. Now it’s a matter of getting out of his bed without waking you, he doesn’t want to interrupt your own sleep. The knocking stops eventually, Law hears someone mumble to themselves, they’ll probably come back later but he’s got to get out of bed now. He has a chance to get out before you wake or someone catches you in his bed. He quickly slips out, grabs some clothes and goes to his bathroom to change, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh.
This…isn’t going to be good in the long run is it?
Law isn’t looking forward to having to wake you when he goes back to his room, but he’s lucky enough that you’re gone by the time he gets back. You definitely woke up and had the same thought he did, sneaking yourself out quickly without making any noise. When you see him again at breakfast, you don’t say anything but give Law a smile that he returns with a nod.
No one else knows or finds out, much to the relief of you both, and Ikkaku doesn’t question where you’d been the night before.
While he hates to admit that he did need someone that night, Law can’t deny the fact he’d slept better with you there than he had in months.
+!+
A few weeks later, the Heart Pirates are throwing a party for their captain. Law’s birthday has come around and while he’d tried to tell him no party they still threw one together, even dragging you into the planning though you didn’t need to be asked to help really. When you heard it was his birthday, you were happy to help, having a couple of gifts put away for him as a thank you for all the help he’s given you the last year and a half or so. It's not a lot, just two small things you think he’ll appreciate, even with Ikkaku and Uni telling you he's going to love both gifts, it's hard to think that much about them.
Law, although he said no parties, is not one to deny his crew a night of rest and relaxation. He does try to stay in his office most of the evening, but Penguin and Shachi are able to drag him out long enough to have a drink and let everyone wish him a happy birthday. He’s truly grateful for all of them, thanking his crew with a slight smile. He ends up settling beside you for a bit after Shachi hands him a drink, not pushing you off when you lean against his arm and give him a smile.
“Happy birthday, Law.”
“Mm, thanks.”
While you take a sip of your own drink, Ikkaku catches your eye and gives you a wink, which makes you roll your eyes before Law sets his hand on your shoulder, nodding for you to follow him out of the common area up on deck. Ikkaku makes sure to pass you the wrapped gifts you have for Law when you walk by her, it makes you nervous to keep them behind your back when you both sit on the deck to relax away from everyone. You can still hear them shouting and laughing, a few already a little wasted but it makes you and Law smile.
“You crew loves you a lot.”
“Yeah,” Nodding, Law takes a sip from his drink before setting it down, “I love them a lot too…what’d Ikkaku hand to you?”
“…how the—”
“I’m not blind, you know,” his smirk only makes you pout, as you take the items out from behind you, “Neither of you are good at hiding things.”
“Fine,” you sigh heavily as a joke, but still smile as you hold the wrapped items out to him, “A gift for you.”
Law quiets as he stares at the gifts you have in your hands, before he finally takes them from you. The happy yet nervous smile you have tells him you weren’t really ready to give these to him, but Ikkaku seems to have forced your hand. You don’t seem mad about it though.
“…you really didn’t have to get me anything, I wouldn’t have been offended.”
You shrug a little, knowing it’s really not much, but it still makes you smile to see Law just a bit flustered by it. He obviously wasn’t expecting anything from you, but of course you surprise him once again. It seems like almost everything you do lately endears you to him even more than before.
What a mess we’re creating.
“I know but, I wanted to. As a birthday gift and to thank you for everything,” you watch while he starts to open the smaller gift, heart rate picking up out of anxiety, you’ve never felt so anxious giving someone a gift before, “It’s really not a lot, I just…I thought you’d like these…”
Law isn’t at all surprised to find a coin in the small box, he figured that must’ve been it, he’s so familiar with that size of box and the small sound it made when he picked it up. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s from Foosha Village, your hometown, it has to be one you’d brought with you as a keepsake. The port engraved on one side and the Goa Kingdom on the other, he can pick out the tiniest manufacturing errors and possible imprints on the small coin. It’s special though, he didn’t have one from there in his collection yet and you’ve added to it, how kind of you. He knows if you wanted to, Luffy would take your whole crew back to your home for a visit and you’d pick up another coin or two, you likely aren’t worried about giving one up.
Seeing his face light up a bit at it as he thanks you makes you smile softly, at least until he goes to open the other wrapped gift. You bite your lip out of worry and fidget a bit, not a single thing going unnoticed by Law who almost asks what’s wrong but realizes you’re just nervous for whatever reason. There’s nothing to be nervous about in his mind, until he sees what else you’ve given him, and it causes him to freeze up, which leads to you defending your gift to him.
“I…I found it in a bookstore on the last island…the shopkeeper didn’t want to sell it to me, but I was able to sneak it into my bag and get it out of there. I remembered everything you told me and…I just…”
It's a book about Flevance, the country’s history and culture, everything about the white lead export, the festivals they held, the little bit that was assumed about white lead disease itself. All of it there in his hands now, he didn’t know such a book existed. He would’ve thought any and all traces of Flevance had been destroyed by the World Government, including books detailing the country itself. But they missed one, the one you’d been lucky enough to find and steal from the bookstore, that you thought you should give to him so he had a piece of his home again.
When he doesn’t say anything for several minutes, you start to bite your lip, wondering if you’ve made a mistake. He flips through the book quietly, not making known what he thinks at all.
“I—”
“That’s my sister and I.”
Law finally speaks up again, having stopped on a page for longer than you noticed, pointing out one of the pictures printed on it. You lean in just enough to look, smiling at the picture he’s showing you. The boy is obviously Law, he has the same grin you’ve rarely seen, and the girl has her brown hair tied into small pigtails, smiling just as widely next to him. You hadn’t really read too much of it, just getting an idea of what Law’s hometown was like, but that picture makes you realize how happy he was back then.
“She’s cute.”
“I think,” he interrupts your thoughts and makes you look at him again, “that was during a summer festival. Lami would’ve been four, I remember buying her ice cream and playing a game to win her a stuffed rabbit…she didn’t let go of it for months.”
“She looks like you.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Law scoffs, but chuckles a bit, flipping to another page, “I forgot a reporter had taken our picture then…these are my parents….”
It's another picture from the festival, but this time just his parents are shown, probably having been nearby to make sure their children didn’t wander off. Now you see why he said Lami didn’t look like him, she was a carbon copy of their mom. You never would have guessed those pictures were in that book, or that Law remembered when they were taken.
“…you look just like your dad.”
Nodding, Law closes the book and sets it to the side. He’ll read it fully later, those pictures and the small flip through he’s done are enough for tonight. He has to push those emotions down for now and doesn’t push you away when you give him a hug that he quietly returns, thanking you.
Neither of you moves or says anything for a while, before you look up at Law and speak.
“Hey, Law?”
“Hmm?”
“…tell me that I haven’t misread all of this.”
Law is stunned into complete silence, more frozen than he was earlier, when you lean up just enough to press the softest kiss to his lips, it’s almost like it doesn’t happen but he knows it does. You’ve actually kissed him, his feelings aren’t unrequited after all! The fact you think you’ve misread everything he's said and done the last few months, he just wants to sit and tell you everything now. How he’s been stressed about telling you, he wasn’t sure you really felt the same.
But now he is! The confirmation he’s been looking for despite the fact he was already certain you felt the same. With the way you’ve spent so much of your free time together he should’ve realized it sooner, how everything just led you both to each other every time. Its unreal that this is happening, that you’ve taken that first step to change your relationship with him. He really did think it would never happen, you’d both be forever pining, or the feelings would fade.
Honestly Law’s relieved you decided to take the chance, he wasn’t sure how or when to do it himself. He’s not used to this, what should he even be doing now?
Maybe he should be kissing you back, Law realizes a moment later, when you pull away just enough for him to see the disappointed almost sad look on your face. He’d gotten so caught in his thoughts that you must think he doesn’t feel the same, all because he was so distracted he didn’t think to return your kiss.
“Sorry,” Oh you sound so sad, it nearly breaks his heart to hear your voice, to see you looking away from him, “I…I shouldn’t ha—”
“Don’t,” Law nearly whispers it, moving both hands to hold your face and makes you look at him, “Don’t apologize.”
A barely audible ‘okay’ is your response before Law properly returns your first kiss, letting you slip your arms around his neck while he moves one hand to your waist to bring you a little closer to him. He knows this could be a misstep, that you may come to him in the morning and say you’d drank too much, that it shouldn’t have happened. But for now, he’s going to ignore the thoughts that tell him to stop. That he can’t be doing this, you’re a rival captain’s older sister, it’s not going to work out no matter how much he hopes it does. It doesn’t matter to him, not right now.
All that matters is you.
You and him, right now, with your hands in his hair, his arm around your waist, and his other hand stroking your cheek. It’s almost too much to believe it’s real but it is, he doesn’t know how he got so lucky. To be able to receive your affections and return them. Part of Law wonders if this was your plan all along, to get him away from everyone just to kiss him, even though he’s the one who led you away, but he thinks you didn’t plan this part at all, it just happened.
But it’s okay, he doesn’t mind. Not everything has to be planned down to the letter. You certainly weren’t in his plans.
This really might become a mess down the line, but does that matter? Just for a bit, he’ll ignore everything going on around you, Law will briefly ignore his plans just for a few moments tonight. For the several minutes you two spend in a silent confession of feelings that had built up over the last few weeks, he’s going to ignore reality.
Until you softly push him away, Law wonders if he did something wrong, only to see you give him a shy smile.
“Happy birthday, Law.”
He laughs slightly, shaking his head before kissing you again.
“Thank you, [Y/N]-ya.”
You really can’t wait to tell Ikkaku about this.
+!+
Eventually Law walks you to your room, your gift to him in one hand while you hold onto his other one, fingers laced together and stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. You two haven’t fully decided what you are yet, you’ll discuss it later, he’s promised you that. Even if Law would like to sit and talk things through with you tonight, it’s late and there are things to do the next day. The rest of the crew might be hungover and sick in the morning, but they’ve got to get a move on to the next island, there are more hearts to be collected.
Once you’re back to your room, Law kisses you once more for the night, thanking you again for the gifts, before he heads off to his office. He tries to hurry so you don’t see the pink blush on his face, but you already have, you just don’t tell him. You simply say goodnight in return, going into your room and leaning against the door with a dreamy sigh and smile on your face, which Ikkaku picks up immediately when she sees you from her bed.
“So…how’d it go?”
“I kissed him.”
“What?!”
“And he kissed me back…for a few minutes.”
“Holy shit, you got Law to make out with you?!”
Before you can say anything else, Ikkaku tells you to wait, jumping out of bed to grab your arm after she locks the door and drags you to her bed, making you sit down. She quickly goes to her dresser and pulls out a small wine bottle she’d hidden from the boys and joins you back on her bed with it.
“How long have you been hiding that?”
“Doesn’t matter! Tell me everything!”
The alcohol burns but Ikkaku’s giggling at your retelling of what happened with Law makes you smile and giggle in return. She looks like she’s reading a slow burn romance novel while you tell her everything that’s happened, giving Law his gift and kissing him, how he returned it and said you’ll talk about things later. She rolls her eyes a bit at that but the few yawns you give tell her that was probably the reason why he said that.
Once you finish telling the story, you sigh again and fall back on her bed, still smiling while Ikkaku watches you.
“That was my first kiss…”
“Really??”
“Mm,” you nod a little, thinking back and knowing that’s true, “I wonder if it was his too.”
“Probably. Captain hasn’t shown interest in anyone before, I’d be surprised if he’s ever kissed anyone that wasn’t on a dare.”
You look like you’re thinking, but Ikkaku smiles before she takes a drink of the wine and lays beside you.
“This is so cool, you and Law. I knew there was something there when I saw you two working together.”
“Oh please, I doubt he’s liked me that long.”
“You never know! Imagine he’s liked you since Amazon Lily!”
“Now that’s way too far back!”
The two of you stay up laughing and talking, the few worries you have about what’s next dissipating as Ikkaku tells you everything she’s noticed that led her to believing Law liked you, it makes you so much happier to know your feelings are reciprocated.
After he makes it back to his office, Law nearly collapses on the ground, his energy spent and his emotions going haywire.
The gifts you’ve given him, the kiss you shared, he doesn’t know how to fully process all of it. It’s so foreign to him, he doesn’t think he’s felt so happy since the time he spent with Cora, he’s sure he hasn’t felt this loved since then either, even though he’s sure you’re not in love with him yet.
Law sets your gifts on his desk, he’ll put them away in the morning, placing his face in his hands to try and stop the blush he knows is there and the smile that he can’t seem to wipe off no matter how much he tries to. He tries to calm himself down, tell himself this isn’t a big deal, maybe you will come by in the morning and tell him it was a mistake, but he hopes and prays you don’t.
I can’t believe she kissed me. I didn’t expect that…
“Heeey, Law, I’m heading up for night watch,” Penguin knocks on the doorway a bit, stepping into Law’s office as his captain just nods, making him raise an eyebrow, “Something good happen, Cap?”
“Yeah…yeah, something good happened.”
+!+
It takes a few weeks still for Law to ask to take you on a date, but you waste no time in accepting the offer. He tells you not to let it out to anyone, but you may have slipped up and told Ikkaku when you asked for her opinion on what to wear. The two of you sounded like schoolgirls with how you were giggling and chatting over the fact Law actually wanted to take you out for a date, your feelings aren’t one-sided, he really does like you back! It only feels so strange to know that because of how Luffy and Ace would chase off boys that liked you way back when, even if you liked the boy back, your brothers couldn’t stand the thought of one of them taking you away. None of them were good enough for you.
You think Ace would’ve liked and approved of Law. Even though he’s older than you, if they’d been able to meet, you’re sure Ace would have liked Law, liked the fact he’s also a doctor, and that he makes you happy so far.
The night of your date doesn’t really go as planned though. Everyone except Ikkaku, Bepo, Law, and you are off the ship, exploring the town you’re docked near, Law had sent them all out with a day off and stayed on board along with you to get ready for your date and make sure no one was going to find out about it. He’s not ready for the teasing that’s to come and wants this to stay as secret as possible.
Once you’re dressed and ready, you expect Law to come get you from your room like he said he would at the time he’d told you, but he’s late and you start to worry when it gets later and later.
Had he changed his mind and decided to stand you up? No, no Law would never do that, if he didn’t want to go out with you he would’ve said so, he probably never would have asked in the first place.
Right? Right. Law wouldn’t leave me without an answer.
Again you’re at his office door, knocking to see if he answers and once again, you receive no response. He hasn’t left the ship you know that, Ikkaku said she saw him in his office just a few minutes before he was supposed to come get you, so what happened?
“Law? Are you ready to go?” Still no response, so you decide to again let yourself in, you aren’t prepared to see Law is still in his office, but appears to be passed out on the floor, it actually scares you.
“Law!! What happened?!” You hurry over and make sure he’s still breathing, relieved to find he is, before checking him for a fever. “What the hell, Law, are you all right?!”
What a way for your first date to start.
~~
Law never wanted you to know just how nervous he really was about your first date, he kept it all to himself. He only let Penguin know about it by accident, to get some advice that he thought might be helpful, but his friend only ended up telling things not to do. He rolled his eyes and gave up on that, only asking if it was normal to feel like he was going to be sick at the thought of taking you to dinner
“Yeah for a first date, that sounds normal, Cap.”
“How do I get rid of it?”
“I…well…go on the date and see?”
Yes, very helpful advice. It didn’t help with the constant dizzy feeling he had, though Law thinks that may have been slight dehydration from his nerves causing him to forgo all water and food that day. He really didn’t want to risk actually throwing up before or during your date and grossing you out.
Unfortunately, all of it hit him at once when he was leaving his office to go get you, causing Law to realize how badly he’d neglected himself that day, and the day before, as he passed out without the chance to call for someone’s help.
But when he opens his eyes a while later and sees you giving him a worried smile, he knows he’s screwed up. He blinks a few times, barely registering that he’s laying down on the couch in his office, he knows he hit the floor. He can feel the pain in his head from it, yet he doesn’t mind too much feeling your hand in his hair or his head in your lap.
“Hey, you.”
“[Y/N]-ya…?”
“In the flesh.”
“What…what happened…?”
“You tell me,” giving him a concerned smile, you gently run your fingers through Law’s hair while he looks up at you like he’s thinking, “You were late coming to get me, I was worried you’d changed your mind…when I came to see what was up, you were passed out on the floor. Bepo helped me get you here.”
“I…I don’t remember,” he shakes his head a bit before sitting up, finally remembering what it was and groaning, “Wait, yes I do. I was about to come to your room, when I started to feel dizzy. I…guess I passed out…”
“Do you have a fever? Are you feeling okay? We don’t have to go out if you’re sick, Law! We can do it another day.”
Law really doesn’t want to admit the reason for his dizziness and sudden fainting, once he realizes what caused it all, he doesn’t want you to feel bad about something you couldn’t control. It’s all on him for stressing out so much about the date, he just wants to impress you. He's never done this before, dating isn’t in his skill set.
“…Law?”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”
He gets up so quickly you don’t have time to stop him, but still follow and grab his arm.
“Hey, talk to me,” you make him turn to face you, smiling softly even though he doesn’t look at you, he’s keeping his eyes on the ground, “Whatever it is, I won’t be upset. If you want to postpone, that’s fi—”
“Why do you even like me?”
“What—”
“There’s nothing good about me,” Law moves to pull away from you, but you keep your grip on his sleeve, not letting him get away, “I’m not a good person, you deserve someone who is. You deserve someone who can make you happy, not…not me…I can’t do that…”
The silence feels deafening, when you don’t respond right away. He’s sure you’re rethinking all of this now. His birthday when you kissed him, the few times in between then and now where you’d stop him to kiss his cheek and he’d return it with one to your forehead, how he’s walked you to your room each night, and the few times he’s let you share his bed for the night. When he finally decided to ask you on a date the other day, even though you gave him the brightest smile he’s ever seen from you, he doesn’t believe you could be happy with him.
Who could ever be happy with him, with someone who’s seen so much death in his life, at only twenty-five, when he’s bent on avenging Cora and stopping Kaido?
Why would you want anything to do with that?
“I…am happy, though,” you move to hold Law’s hand, placing your other on his face to make him look at you, “I like you, Law. I really do and I feel happy when I’m around you, you can ask Ikkaku. I tell her all the time how much I like you, how much I want to be with you.”
“You don’t—”
“I’m not lying. I don’t know what you’re thinking about us, and that’s okay right now, but I…I can see myself with you now and in the future. I promise, Law, you make me happy, just by being you.”
Law doesn’t have a chance to say anything before you kiss him, trying to convince him of your feelings being real. He’s hesitant to return it but does so after a moment, before you pull away with a smile.
“…you look nice.”
“Thank you…you do too.”
“I…I was going to take you to dinner.”
“Oh yeah?”
Law nods, wanting to explain better, before you start to sit down, still holding his hand to bring him to the floor with you. When he tries to speak, you just shake your head.
“It’s my turn to ask a question.”
“What about—"
“Will you tell me about your tattoos?”
Law doesn’t pull his hand away from you, while you continue hold it and gently run your finger over the cross on the back of his hand, he has to fight not to just intertwine his fingers with yours.
This isn’t how he thought your first date would go. Not you finding him passed out from stress and turning it into simply talking. He knows already he’s going to make it up to you with a proper date at the next island.
“For my family, and for Cora-san…” he points first to the ones on his hands and forearms, placing his free hand on his chest to point out the one for Corazon though you could’ve guessed that.
Humming, you nod, Law brings his other hand up to softly tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek and watching you lean into his hand.
He really is very sweet.
“For your crew?”
“My jolly Roger on my back.”
“…what about for you?”
Law takes a deep breath but doesn’t say anything for a bit. He keeps holding your hand, staring at his own, wondering if he should admit it or not. What will you think? Will you decide you don’t want to bother with him?
You probably read the book you gave him, the one about Flevance, he could tell the book had been read. It didn’t go into detail about his home’s destruction, chalking it up to the white lead disease and scarcity of resources, but he wasn’t surprised when he got there himself. The government would never admit wrongdoing, they’d never allow their involvement to be published.
But he thinks you should know. You haven’t walked away after hearing his story, his past, you’re still here with him. You look like you already know what he’s going to say, a sad smile now on your face as you look at his hand in yours.
“’Death’…for what’s marked my life since I was ten.”
He’s quiet, like he’s worried he’s going to scare you off, like he’s marked you for death just by developing feelings for you, allowing himself to entertain the thought of being with you. Everyone he’s ever loved has died, it could be the same for you if trends are anything to go by. It wouldn’t be fair to you, to Luffy, if anything happened simply because you’ve chosen to be with him, Law doesn’t want anything to happen to you. You’ve both been through things, of varying degrees, what could you want with someone like him?
Law tries to pull away from you, you’ve been quiet for so long now, he thinks he’s effectively squashed your feelings for him, you don’t want to be with him now, he's sure of it.
But you don’t let him get too far away, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his chest. Law isn’t really sure what to make of this. It’s not like before, when you’ve hugged him other times, you’re still quiet yourself though you nod.
“I don’t think that’s true anymore…not with this crew, this family you’ve built.”
“[Y/N]-ya—”
“I’d like to stay by your side and prove you wrong,” you tighten your arms around him as Law finally returns your hug, tighter than you even expected, “if you’ll let me.”
“…as long as you’ll have me.”
You both stay quiet for a bit, eventually you look up at Law and give him a soft smile before leaning up to kiss him again, which he returns without any hesitation this time.
It'll take some time for him to be fully comfortable and accepting of this, of the love and attention you’re ready to so freely give him, but you’re willing to give him that time.
Anything to make sure Law knows you aren’t going anywhere, even when you have to return to your crew. You’re not going to let him go very easily.
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The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG
Title: The Devil Wears Valentino
Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff
Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 10,488
Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM
A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!
A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much
A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....
Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.
Intimate. That would be a better choice.
From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.
The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.
You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.
He’ll be back for another soon.
While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.
Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.
Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.
And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.
Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.
Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.
Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.
Most of the time.
You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.
“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”
“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.
Fucking incubi demons…
You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.
You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.
You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”
Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.
Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.
They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.
It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.
You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.
“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.
And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.
“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”
There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.
“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.
It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.
Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.
Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.
Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.
It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.
He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.
“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”
To which you think again, fucking incubi…
Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.
You learned your lesson.
So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!
You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.
From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.
Which can only mean one fucking thing.
You just lost all your tips for the night.
Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.
Fuck.
“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.
“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.
You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.
“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’
You know exactly where it is.
No one else will touch it.
Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.
No one serves him but you.
But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.
You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.
You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.
After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,
“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”
He didn’t take another breath.
A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.
“Thanks,” You’d said.
“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.
Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.
But he was more than pleased.
After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.
He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.
Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.
A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.
Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;
‘One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.’
You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.
‘Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth,’
You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.
“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”
He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”
You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.
“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”
He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”
“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”
You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.
No one calls the Devil by his first name.
Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.
And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.
No one except you.
What a funny little exception you are.
Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”
You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.
You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.
“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.
Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.
“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.
He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…
“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.
Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.
You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.
Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…
Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.
You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.
The King of Hell.
He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.
Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.
Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.
He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.
You have to stay away from him.
But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.
As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.
There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.
“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”
Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.
Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.
The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.
Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.
You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.
All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.
And maybe he is.
But not to you.
The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.
You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.
The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.
And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.
It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.
You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.
Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.
They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.
All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.
Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.
Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.
You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.
You needed this.
A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.
You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.
“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.
“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.
You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”
Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.
In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.
Yoongi.
God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.
Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.
Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.
And he looks like sin incarnate.
Fitting.
Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?
Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.
Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.
When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.
Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.
Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.
They were all you.
Maybe his plan was working after all…
“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.
What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”
He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.
“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.
A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.
“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”
Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.
Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.
Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.
You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.
“What do you think?”
Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.
“May I touch?”
You don’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.
“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.
This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”
Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.
Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.
The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.
“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..
Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.
Beautiful.
“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.
“My birthstone,” you reply.
“Your birthstone.”
You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.
“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.
Makes you wonder what he promised.
Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.
Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.
Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.
Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.
What is he doing to you?
“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.
“Mmm?”
“Would you like to dance?”
Fuck would you ever, but wait—
“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.
Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?”
“Yes.”
You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.
Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.
Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.
They don’t know about Yoongi.
They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.
You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.
You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.
You’ve decided.
To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.
To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.
You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.
But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.
“Let’s go to yours.”
“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”
Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.
“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.
Fuck, you don’t want to wait.
And apparently neither does Yoongi.
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“Yes, but what does tha–”
“Close your eyes for me, Love.”
Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.
So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.
You trust Yoongi.
“That's a good girl.”
One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.
Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?
But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.
What?
“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.
Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.
“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.
Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.
He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.
“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”
You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.
There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.
Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.
Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.
“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.
He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.
Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.
You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”
You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.
“Please what, Love?”
“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”
“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”
“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.
“There she is.”
Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.
They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.
Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.
“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”
His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”
You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.
“I need to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“Understand what?” He pushes.
“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.
“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.
The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.
“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”
Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”
He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.
“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”
Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”
His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.
“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.
Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.
If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.
Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.
“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”
He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.
He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.
“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.
“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.
He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.
“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”
Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.
“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”
“And if I do?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”
Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”
“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.
And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.
Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.
Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.
“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.
Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.
“Fuck—”
Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.
“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”
Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.
“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”
The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.
Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.
“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”
His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.
You’re the most powerful person here.
You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.
And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.
“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.
Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.
“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”
His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.
“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”
“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.
You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.
Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.
This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.
This is about you.
And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.
You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.
You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.
Perfect in every single way.
“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”
He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.
“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”
You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”
“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.
“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.
“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”
The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.
Not yet.
You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.
Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.
Ever.
And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.
He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.
There was only you.
Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.
And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.
It’s time for him to finally claim you back.
“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”
“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”
Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.
“Only for you, Yoongi.”
His thrusts stutter.
“Fuck!”
He’s coming.
He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.
It’s the first time he’s said your name.
And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.
You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need.
It’s yours.
He’ll make it so.
At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.
He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.
You got exactly what you wanted.
He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.
And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.
“What changed?”
“Hmm?”
“What about tonight made you change your mind?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”
That seductive smirk makes an appearance.
“Yes.”
“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”
Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.
“Next time,” he says. A promise.
You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”
He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.
“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”
“My soul?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ve never asked for mine before.”
“Never needed it.”
At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”
“You.”
Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.
You just know it.
“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”
You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.
You never expected anything like that.
You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.
Kindness. Patience.
The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.
Because of you.
“I don't know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”
You can do that.
“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.
Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.
“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.
“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.
He was yours now.
The Devil was yours.
King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.
“Oh thank fuck.”
“Not thank God?” you tease.
Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”
A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
#yoongi#min yoongi#suga#min suga#agust d#bts yoongi#bts min yoongi#bts min suga#yoongi x oc#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#min yoongi x oc#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x y/n#min yoongi x you#min yoongi fluff#min yoongi smut#min yoongi angst#min yoongi fic#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi au#bts fanfic#bts fic#yoongi scenarios#bts imagine#yoongi imagine#bts smut#bts x fem!reader
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Did Laios have a plan
... when he made his deal with the Lion? How much of it was intentional and how much of it was out of his control?
Well. If I'm being honest I don't really want to try and provide a definitive answer to that question, because I think the ambiguity is, itself, part of the story. I've gone back and forth a few times myself, and I don't think either category - "fully intentional" or "fully coincidence" - is entirely true.
That being said, I would like to point out a few things that I've seen taken for granted as true. Things that, imo, are much more about the character's perspective, or about what the character WANTS people to think (well, that's really just the Winged Lion).
Consider this not exactly an argument for "Laios masterminded everything from the start and saved the world with his cunning," but more... "Laios considered what he was doing more than people give him credit for." Make sense?
Alright then, let's go:
So to start with, I want to show every time (that I could find, at least) that the question of 'does Laios have a plan' gets brought up. This is specifically after his Ultimate Monster Form is revealed, to be clear - the question isn't about if he has a plan in general, it is if he has/had a plan when he made this specific deal with the Lion.
Here they are:
-
-
You'll notice, in all of these instances, there never really is an answer given to the question. Either because there is no way to get one, or, with Kabru at the end there, because he explicitly doesn't let Laios answer. There's even a bit of an arc here: we start with a sort of desperate 'I've mostly given up but maybe this isn't as bad as it looks,' then get a more optimistic 'maybe we really are saved,' and finally end on 'it all worked out in the end, so we maybe don't need to know.'
But, as much as there is some genuine growth in Kabru's 'accept the outcome, rather than dissecting the truth,' I also think it says a lot more about him than about Laios. Kabru is the one trying to handle his questions and his uncertainty - as he said, he wants to confirm his judgement of character. He wants to feel like he had control over things.
And he lets that go! But he also doesn't actually get the truth, either, and his implied assumption here (that Laios, the wide-eyed monster-lover, probably just followed his desires), still relies on his judgements and assumptions about Laios.
But okay, these bits are all focused on the characters theorizing about Laios. How about we look at the character who actually tells us the facts ("facts"): the Winged Lion.
The Winged Lion has quite a bit to say about Laios and his monster form.
He says that Laios hates humanity, and would rather be a monster
I've talked about this a bit already, but the Lion makes a lot of claims and assumptions about Laios that aren't necessarily true.
First of all, let's just make sure we clearly establish that the Lion is being manipulative here. That may seem obvious, but it's important to understand that there is a difference between 'the truth' and 'a version of the truth specifically framed to prey upon your deepest shame and insecurities about what you really want.'
To point out a few quick-and-dirty contradictions here:
If Laios really hated all other humans, then the Lion wouldn't hinge so many of his other arguments on Laios' love for Falin and his friends.
the Lion claims that Laios "[doesn't] even care enough about the future of [the] world to express an opinion about it," even though Laios has literally expressed opinions on what he wants for the world, to the Lion's face.
In general, the Lion does not make a distinction between urges and choices (see, for instance: him using Marcille's subconscious fear of the canaries as a way to keep her from stopping the monsters from attacking in chapter 86).
I'm not saying there is not a piece of truth here, but also... we are not our darkest thoughts, and we especially are not those thoughts as defined by someone who wants to hurt and control us.
But let’s move on to the stuff the Lion claims about Laios once he has been turned into his monster form.
2. He says that (or rather, acts like) Laios is under his control
The Lion really enjoys grandstanding about how Monster Laios is an ultimate tool he has control over. He gloats about making Laios fight the others, and has him smash through the magical barrier.
But smashing the barrier is kinda the only thing that Monster Laios actually does for the Lion. He doesn't attack anyone. He doesn't hurt his friends, despite Chilchuck thinking that Laios has "turned completely into a monster." And he certainly doesn't simply let the Lion go through with his plan to eat everyone.
This barrier smashing is actually an interesting and odd thing for Laios to have done specifically, so remember that one. I'll come back to it later.
But, yeah, to the original point... despite the Lion's dramatics, all that Monster Laios does is pose, smash up a magic barrier, and then eat him. Not exactly under his control.
AND SPEAKING OF EATING THE DEMON...
3. He frames Laios attacking and eating him as thoughtlessly violent
This one is pretty funny to me, and the Lion keeps it up for the whole scene. I'm not sure how much of this is his genuine understanding of the situation, and how much is him intentionally framing things in the most insulting manner, but like... truly. The ego involved in this. To see someone who has, multiple times, tried to stand against you - someone who has literally wished for your non-existence, to your face - to see this person attack you, specifically, and have your first reaction be 'huh, I guess he's a reckless weirdo to the core???'
Incredible stuff.
And this part, too:
He claims that Laios can't recognize anyone, that he's out of control. And yet, the Lion is the only person that gets eaten here. He is Laios' singular target.
Hell, Laios even specifically attacks one of the bodies that is actively hurting Chilchuck. I don't know if that was entirely intentional on Laios' part, but I do think it's notable.
The Lion torments Laios' friend, and when Laios does something that interrupts that action, the Lion reframes it as unhinged violence. I don't know, there's something here about the way that cruel people only talk about the things people do to resist them as violent, and ignore the violence that causes such resistance in the first place.
In any case, the main point is that the Lion insists on treating Laios like an unthinking animal during this fight, despite the fact that Laios is clearly trying to accomplish something here.
And what exactly is Laios trying to accomplish? Well, the Lion isn't entirely wrong. Laios is trying to eat something. He tells us as much.
And truly, everything Laios does as a monster points to this. He had a goal. And he accomplished it.
Let me back up a moment. I need to explain smashing the barrier.
So, Laios first starts considering how to kill the Lion when he is confronted with the fact that his only other choice would be to kill Marcille. Immediately and entirely discarding that solution, because of course he does, he tries to wrap his head around what defeating the Lion would even look like.
He clearly continues thinking about this, as a nearly identical conversation happens a few chapters later, when Laios is once again told that killing Marcille is the only way forward.
Only, this time, he's started to come up with an idea for how to do this impossible thing.
Harkening all the way back to the Living Armor chapter, Laios draws on the same lesson - if the Lion has made itself part of the world, if it has made itself into something alive, that means he can kill it. And eat it.
But there's an important extra detail to this. If he's going to try and kill (and eat) the Lion, he needs to strike when it’s vulnerable. He needs to strike when it's eating.
This is why he smashes through the barrier. Again, nothing else he does as a monster really benefits the Lion. He doesn't attack anyone else. The only command he obeys is to smash the barrier. Because the Lion has to think he has won for Laios to be able to eat him.
Beat him. For Laios to be able to beat him.
The question of why Monster Laios wanted to eat the Lion is, I think, the most ambiguous part. Was he curious? Hungry? Did he fight for his own life, for his friends, or for all of humanity? Did he know how to win because he had planned everything from the start, or because he was driven by an unquenchable instinct to do whatever it took to survive?
I don't know that it is possible to say for sure. But I do know that the Lion underestimates Laios, through it all. He underestimates Laios as a human, and he underestimates Laios as a monster.
And in the end, after he is bested, even then I don't think the Lion ever gets Laios. I don't think he understands how much Laios means his words about the Lion being burdened by hunger...
or what Laios cares about most...
or what meaning there is in life, for him.
So I don't buy what the Lion is selling about Laios, generally speaking. I don't buy that Laios didn't ever know what he was doing, and I don't buy that he was nothing more than a hungry beast.
Well. I mean. He was a hungry beast. But he was a more than that too. He was the Devourer of All Things Horrible. And he didn't just happen into that title by chance.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#laios touden#winged lion#dissecting how the Lion's negging works is a great exercise in understanding manipulation honestly#dungeon meshi spoilers#dunmeshi analysis
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Hey so can we like stop with the "Zutara is for the girls and Kataang is for the boys" thing. It's silly and it's breakdancing just on the edge of gender essentialism.
The assumption that there is something inherent to Zutara that appeals predominantly to women and Kataang that appeals predominantly to men is dishonest because every ship can have appeal to all genders.
The discussion of the "female gaze" in Zutara and the "male gaze" in Kataang is also redundant. I enjoy dissecting the concept of "the gaze", however it is important to note that the "female gaze" doesn't have a set definition or grouping of conventions it adheres to. Lisa French, Dean of RMIT University’s School of Media and Communication says:
“The female gaze is not homogeneous, singular or monolithic, and it will necessarily take many forms... The aesthetic approaches, experiences and films of women directors are as diverse as their individual life situations and the cultures in which they live. The "female' gaze” is not intended here'to denote a singular concept. There' are many gazes."
Now excuse me as I put on my pretentious humanistics student hat.
Kataang's appeal to women and the female gaze
Before I start, I want to note that the female gaze is still a developing concept
There are very few female film directors and writers, and most of them are white. The wants and desires of women of colour, the demographic Katara falls into, are still wildly underepresented. Additionally, the concept of the female gaze had many facets, due to it being more focused on emotional connections rather than physical appearance as the male gaze usually is. Which means that multiple male archetypes fall into the category of "for the female gaze".
The "female gaze" can be best described as a response to the "male gaze", which was first introduced by Laura Mulvey in her paper: "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema" , however the term "male gaze" itself was not used in the paper.
Mulvey brought up the concept of the female character and form as the passive, objectified subject to the active voyeuristic male gaze, which the audience is encouraged to identify, usually through the male character.
To quote her:
"In a world ordered by sexual imbalance', pleasure' in looking has been split between active'/male' and passive/female'. The determining male gaze' projects its fantasy onto the female' figure', which is styled accordingly."
Mulvey also brings up the concept of scopopfillia (the term being introduced by Freud), the concept of deriving sexual gratification from both looking and being looked at. This concept has strong overtones of voyeurism, exhibitionism and narcissism, placing forth the idea that these overtones are what keeps the male viewer invested. That he is able to project onto the male character, therefore being also able to possess the passive female love interest.
However, it's important to note that Mulvey's essay is very much a product of its times, focused on the white, heterosexual and cisgender cinema of her time. She also drew a lot of inspiration from Freud's questionable work, including ye ole penis envy. Mulvey's paper was groundbreaking at the time, but we can't ignore how it reinforces the gender binary and of course doesn't touch on the way POC, particularly women of colour are represented in film.
In her paper, Mulvey fails to consider anyone who isn't a white, cis, heterosexual man or woman. With how underrepresented voices of minorities already are both in media and everyday life, this is something that we need to remember and strive to correct.
Additionally Mulvey often falls into gender essentialism, which I previously mentioned at the beginning of this post. Funny how that keeps coming up
"Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema" started a very interesting and important conversation, and I will still be drawing from certain parts of it, however huge swathes of this text have already become near archaic, as our culture and relationship with media evolves at an incredible pace.
And as filmaking evolves, so does our definition of the male and female gaze. So let's see what contemporary filmakers say of it.
In 2016, in her speech during the Toronto International Film Festival , producer of the TV series Transparent, Jill Soloway says:
“Numero uno, I think the Female Gaze is a way of “feeling seeing”. It could be thought of as a subjective camera that attempts to get inside the protagonist, especially when the protagonist is not a Chismale. It uses the frame to share and evoke a feeling of being in feeling, rather than seeing – the characters. I take the camera and I say, hey, audience, I’m not just showing you this thing, I want you to really feel with me.
[Chismale is Soloway's nickname for cis males btw]
So the term "female gaze" is a bit of a misnomer, since it aims to focus on capturing the feelings of characters of all genders. It's becoming more of a new way of telling stories in film, rather than a way to cater to what white, cisgender, heterosexual women might find attractive in a man.
Now, Aang is the decided protagonist of the show, however, Atla having somewhat of an ensemble cast leads to the perspective shifting between different characters.
In the first episode of atla, we very much see Katara's perspective of Aang. She sees him trapped in the iceberg, and we immediately see her altruism and headstrong nature. After she frees Aang, we are very much first subjected to Katara's first impressions of him, as we are introduced to his character. We only see a sliver of Aang's perspective of her, Katara being the first thing he sees upon waking up.
We see that she is intrigued and curious of him, and very excited about his presence. She is endeared and amused by his antics. She is rediscovering her childish side with his help. She is confiding in him about her own trauma surrounding the Fire Nation's genocide of the Southern Waterbenders. She is willing to go against her family and tribe ans leave them behind to go to the Northern Water Tribe with Aang. We also see her determination to save him when he is captured.
As the show moves on and the plot kicks into gear, we do shift more into Aang's perspective. We see his physical attraction to her, and while we don't see Katara's attraction quite as blatantly, there are hints of her interest in his appearance.
This is where we get deeper into the concept of Aang and Katara's mutual interest and attraction for one another. While her perspective is more subtle than most would like, Katara is not purely an object of Aang's desire, no more than he is purely an object of her desire.
When analysing this aspect of Katara and Aang's relationship, I couldn't help but be reminded of how Célene Sciamma's Portrait of a lady on fire (in my personal opinion, one of the best studies of the female gaze ever created) builds up its romance, and how it places a strong emphasis on the mutuality of the female gaze.
Portrait of a lady on fire's cinematography is very important to the film. We see the world through the perspective of our protagonist, a painter named Marianne. We also see her love interest, Héloïse, the woman whom she is hired to paint a portrait of, through Marianne's lense.
We see Marianne analyse Héloïse's appearance, her beauty. We look purely through Marianne's eyes at Héloïse for a good part of the movie, but then, something unexpected happens. Héloïse looks back. At Marianne, therefore, in some way, also at the audience. While Marianne was studying Héloïse, Héloïse was studying Marianne.
We never shift into Héloïse's perspective, but we see and understand that she is looking back at us. Not only through her words, when she for example comments on Marianne's mannerisms or behaviours, but also hugely through cinematography and acting of the two amazing leads. (Noémie Merlant as Marianne and Adèle Haenel as Héloïse. They truly went above and beyond with their performances.)
This is a huge aspect of the female gaze's implementation in the film. The camera focuses on facial expressions, eyes and body language, seeking to convey the characters' emotions and feelings. There's a focus on intense, longing and reciprocated eye contact (I have dubbed this the Female Gays Gaze.). The characters stand, sit or lay facing each other, and the camera rarely frames one of them as taller than the other, which would cause a sense of power imbalance.
The best way to describe this method of flimaking is wanting the audience to see the characters, rather than to simply look at them. Sciamma wants us to empathise, wants us to feel what they are feeling, rather than view them from a distance. They are to be people, characters, rather than objects.
Avatar, of course, doesn't display the stunning and thoughtful cinematography of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, and Katara and Aang's relationship, while incredibly important, is only a part of the story rather than the focus of it.
However, the 'Kataang moments' we are privy to often follow a similar convention to the ones between Marianne and Héloïse that I mentioned prior.
Theres a lot of shots of Katara and Aang facing each other, close ups on their faces, particularly eyes, as they gaze at one another.
Katara and Aang are often posited as on equal grounds, the camera not framing either of them as much taller and therefore more powerful or important than the other. Aang is actually physically shorter than Katara, which flies in the face in usual conventions of the male fantasy. (I will get to Aang under the male gaze later in this essay)
And even in scenes when Aang is physically shown as above Katara, particularly when he's in the Avatar state, Katara is the one to pull him down, maintaining their relationships as equals.
Despite most of the show being portrayed through Aang's eyes, Katara is not a passive object for his gaze, and therefore our gaze, to rest upon. Katara is expressive, and animated. As an audience, we are made aware that Katara has her own perspective. We are invited to take part in it and try to understand it.
Not unlike to Portrait of a Lady on Fire, there is a lot of focus placed on mannerisms and body language, an obvious example being Katara often playing with her hair around Aang, telegraphing a shy or flustered state. We also see her express jealousy over Aang, her face becoming sour, brows furrowed. On one occasion she even blew a raspberry, very clearly showing us, the audience, her displeasure with the idea of Aang getting attention from other girls.
Once again, this proves that Katara is not a passive participant in her own relationship, we are very clealry shown her perspective of Aang. Most of the scenes that hint at her and Aang's focus on their shared emotions, rather than, for example, Katara's beauty.
Even when a scene does highlight her physical appearance, it is not devoid of her own thoughts and emotions. The best example of this being the scene before the party in Ba Sing Se where we see Katara's looking snazzy in her outfit. Aang compliments her and Katara doesn't react passively, we see the unabashed joy light up her face, we can tell what she thinks of Aang's comment.
In fact, the first moment between Katara and Aang sets this tone of mutual gaze almost perfectly. Aang opens his eyes, and looks at Katara. Katara looks back.
There is, once again, huge focus on their eyes in this scene, the movement of Aang's eyelids right before they open draws out attention to that part of his face. When the camera shows us Katara, is zooms in onto her expression as it changes, her blinking also drawing attention to her wide and expressive eyes.
This will not be the first time emphasis is placed on Katara and Aang's mutual gaze during a pivotal moment in the show. Two examples off the top of my head would be the Ends of B2 and B3 respevtively. When Katara brings Aang back to life, paralleling the first time they laid eyes on one another. And at the end of the show, where their gaze has a different meaning behind it.
We see Katara's emotions and her intent telegraphed clearly in these instances.
In Book 1, we see her worry for this strange bald boy who fell out of an iceberg, which melts away to relief and a hint of curiosity once she ascertains that he isn't dead.
In B2 we once again see worry, but this time it's more frantic. Her relationship with Aang is much dearer to her heart now, and he is in much worse shape. When we see the relief on her face this time, it manifests in a broad smile, rather than a small grin. We can clearly grasp that her feelings for Aang have evolved.
In B3, we step away from the rule because Aang isn't on the verge of death or unconsciousness for the first time. It is also the first time in a situation like this that Aang isn't seeing Katara from below, but they are on equal footing. I attribute this to symbolising change of pace for their relationship.
The biggest obstacle in the development of Katara and Aang's romance was the war, which endangered both their lives. Due to this, there was a hesitance to start their relationship. In previous scenes that focused this much on Aang and Katara's mutual gaze, Aang was always in a near dead, or at least 'dead adjacent' position. This is is a very harsh reminder that he may very well die in the war, and the reason Katara, who has already endured great loss, is hesitant to allow her love for him to be made... corporeal.
However, now Aang is standing, portraying that the possibily of Katara losing him has been reduced greatly with the coming of peace, the greatest obstacle has been removed, and Katara is the one to initiate this kiss.
Concurrently, Katara's expression here does not portray worry or relief at all, because she has no need to be worried or relieved. No, Katara is blushing, looking directly at Aang with an expression that can be described as a knowing smile. I'd argue that this description is accurate, because Katara knows that she is about to finally kiss the boy she loves.
Ultimately, Katara is the one who initiates the kiss that actually begins her and Aang's romantic relationship.
Kataang's appeal to women is reflected in how Katara is almost always the one to initiate physical affection with Aang. With only 3 exceptions, one of which, the Ember Island kiss being immediately shown by the narrative as wrong, and another being a daydream due to Aang's sleep deptivation. The first moment of outwardly romantic affection between Aang and Katara is her kissing his cheek. And their last kiss in the show is also initiated by Katara.
I won't falsely state that Kataang is the perfect representation of the female gaze. Not only because the storyline has its imperfections, as every piece of media has. But also because I simply belive that the concept of the female gaze is too varied and nebulous to be fully expressed. With this essay, I simply wanted to prove that Kataang is most certainly not the embodiment of catering to the male gaze either. In fact it is quite far from that.
The aspects of Kataang that fall more towards embodying the female gaze don't just appeal to women. There's a reason a lot of vocal Kataang shippers you find are queer. The mutual emotional connection between Katara and Aang is something we don't have to identify with, but something we are still able to emphasise with. It's a profound mutual connection that we watch unfold from both perspectives that sort of tracends more physical, gendered aspects of many onscreen romances. You just need to see instead of simply look.
✨️Bonus round✨️
Aang under the gaze
This started off as a simple part of the previous essay, however I decided I wanted to give it it's own focus, due to the whole discourse around Aang being a wish-fullfilling self insert for Bryke or for men in genral. I always found this baffling considering how utterly... unappealing Aang is to the male gaze.
It may surprise some of you that men are also subjected to the male gaze. Now sadly, this has nothing to do with the male gaze of the male gays. No, when male characters, usually the male protagonist, are created to cater to the male gaze, they aren't portrayed as sexually desirable passive objects, but they embody the active/masculine aide of the binary Laura Mulvey spoke of in the quote I shared at the beginning of this essay.
The protagonist under the male gaze is not the object of desire but rather a character men and boys would desire to be.
They're usually the pinnacle of traditional, stereotypical masculinity.
Appearance wise: muscular but too broad, chiseled facial features, smouldering eyes, depending on the genre wearing something classy or some manner of armour.
Personalitywise they may vary from the cool, suave James Bond type, or a more hotblooded forceful "Alpha male" type. However these are minor differences in the grand scheme of things. The basis is that this protagonist embodies some manner of idealised man. He's strong, decisive, domineering, in control, intimidating... you get the gist. Watch nearly any action movie. There's also a strong focus placed on having sway or power over others. Often men for the male gaze are presented as wealthy, having power and status. Studies (that were proved to be flawed in the way the data was gathered, I believe) say that womem value resources in potential male partners, so it's not surprising that the ideal man has something many believe would attract "mates". [Ew I hated saying that].
Alright, now let's see how Aang holds up to these standards.
Well... um...
Aang does have power, he is the Avatar. However, he is often actually ignored, blown off and otherwise dismissed, either due to his age or his personality and ideals being seen as unrealistic and foolish. Additionally, Aang, as a member of a culture lost a century ago, is also often posited as an outsider, singled out as weak, his beliefs touted as the reason his people died out and.
Physically, Aang doesn't look like the male protagonist archetype, either. He isn't your average late teens to brushing up against middle aged. Aang is very much a child and this is reflected in his soft round features, large eyes and short, less built body. This is not a build most men would aspire to. Now, he still has incredible physical prowess, due to his bending. But I'm not sure how many men are desperate to achieve the "pacifist 12 year old" build to attract women.
Hailing from a nation that had quite an egalitarian system, Aang wouldn't have conventional ideas surrounding leadership, even if he does step up into it later. He also has little in the way of possessions, by choice.
As for Aang's personality, well...
I mean I wouldn't exactly call him your average James Bond or superhero. Aang is mainly characterised through his kindness, empathy, cheerful nature and occasional childishness (which slowly is drained as the trauma intesifies. yay.)
Aang is very unwilling to initiate violence, which sets him aside from many other male protagonists of his era, who were champing at the bit to kick some ass. He values nature, art, dance and fun. He's in tune with his emotions. He tries to desecalate situations before he starts a fight.
Some would say many of Aang's qualities could be classified as feminine. While the other main male characters, Zuko and Sokka try to embody their respective concepts of the ideal man (tied to their fathers), Aang seems content with how he presents and acts. He feels no need to perform masculinity as many men do, choosing to be true to his emotions and feelings.
These "feminine" qualities often attract ridicule from other within the show. He is emasculated or infantiliased as a form of mockery multiple times, the most notable examples being the Ember Island play and Ozai tauntingly referring to him as a "little boy". Hell, even certain Aang haters have participated in this, for example saying that he looks like a bald lesbian.
I'd even argue that, in his relationships with other characters, Aang often represents the passive/feminine. Especially towards Zuko, Aang takes on an almost objectified role of a trophy that can be used to purchase Ozai's love. [Zuko's dehumanisation of others needs to be discussed later, but it isn't surprising with how he was raised and a huge part of his arc is steerring away from that way of thinking.]
Aang and Zuko almost embody certain streotypes about relationships, the forceful, more masculine being a literal pursuer, and the gentler, more feminine being pusued.
We often see Aang framed from Zuko's perspective, creating something akin to the mutual gaze of Katara and Aang, hinting at the potential of Zuko and Aang becoming friends, a concept that is then voiced explicitly in The Blue Spirit.
However, unlike Katara, Zuko is unable to empathise with Aang at first, still seeing Aang as more of an object than a person. We have here an interesting imbalance of Aang seeing Zuko but Zuko meerly looking at Aang.
There is a certain aspect of queer metaphor to Zuko's pursuit of Aang, but I fear I've gotten off topic.
Wrapping this long essay up, I want to reiterate that I'm not saying that Zutara isn't popular with women. Most Zutara shippers I've encountered are women. And most Kataang shippers I've encountered are... also women. Because fandom spaces are occupied predominantly by women.
I'm not exactly making a moral judgement on any shippers either, or to point at Kataang and go: "oh, look girls can like this too. Stop shipping Zutara and come ship this instead."
I want to point out that the juxtaposition of Zutara and Kataang as respectively appealing to the feminine and masculine, is a flawed endeavour because neither ship does this fully.
The concept of Kataang being a purely male fantasy is also flawed due to the points I've outlied in this post.
Are there going to be male Kataang shippers who self insert onto Aang and use it for wish fulfilment? Probably. Are there going to be male Zutara shippers who do the same? Also probably.
In the end, our interpretation of media, particularly visual mediums like film are heavily influenced by our own biases, interests, beliefs andmost importantly our... well, our gaze. The creators can try to steer us with meaningful shots and voiced thought, directing actors or animating a scene to be a certain way, but ultimately we all inevitably draw our own conclusions.
A fan of Zutara can argue that Kataang is the epitome of catering to the male gaze, while Zutara is the answer to women everywhere's wishes.
While I can just as easily argue the exact opposite.
It really is just a matter of interpretation. What is really interesting, is what our gaze says about us. What we can see of ourselves when the subject gazes back at us.
I may want to analyse how Zutara caters to the male gaze in some instances, if those of you who manage to slog through this essay enjoy the subject matter.
#ok getting off my soapbox#i forgot how much i love to write these long sprawling essays...#kataang#pro kataang#aang#pro aang#aanglove#aang defense squad#pro katara#katara defense squad#kataang love#zuko#avatar#atla#avatar: the last airbender#the last airbender#avatar the last airbender#aang the last airbender#anti zutara
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A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part One
Welcome to my new series, where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.
And when I say 'poor writer,' I'm talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the plots of the books.
This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.
Disclaimer for all readers: I'm going to sound very confident in my posts. I'm going to be working under the assumption that I'm a better writer than JKR. Because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You're just witnessing two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn't just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.
After years of being beaten down by others, I will no longer tolerate that.
I will be using my writing to compare with hers to make some of my points. Some of what I say in these posts could be considered stylistic choices. However, in my humble opinion, most of this is a difference of skill, which can be learned. Yes, everything I'm going to teach and cover in this series can be learned. There's no 'talent' here. You can learn how to become a better writer right here and now. You only have to understand the craft of writing and sentence structure to better improve your prose and scenes.
I don't have fame and money.
I don't need them to teach you how to write better than JKR.
You're free to disagree with my stances about this and about everything I cover, of course. But if you're a writer, you might gain some insight from this post and I sincerely hope you are enriched by my efforts in this. I spent quite a few hours on this post. Helping others become a better writer than JKR is one of the greatest contributions I can give to society.
Thus, take what resonates and leave what doesn't.
I have stated before: JKR's writing is bloated in the wrong places, underwritten in others, and the prose is poor. These problems show up in all of her HP books.
Buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Let's begin.
Class is in session.
In this post, we're going to dissect a page from HP4.
There's so much wrong with this page and the three pages of this scene overall. So much to go over. Bullet points I'll cover from this page:
Disconnected Dialogue Lines
The Great Sin of Adverbs
Too much fucking dialogue!
Wrong focus altogether in this scene
Out of POV writing
First point. This is a huge ongoing issue I see in all of the HP books. There are a lot of disconnected dialogue lines, which become confusing over time. This could be an issue of the publisher, but it's still a problem. In the middle of this page, we have:
Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.
Wait, wait, wait. Who said this? Listen, I know. I know it's Sirius. However, this is an improper placement on the page and can become confusing because Harry also goes by he/him pronouns and he's also in this scene. While the dialogue here suggests Sirius is talking, it could easily be misinterpreted if there were other characters or if he said something that Harry could've just as easily said.
To make this dialogue more clear for the reader, it should go as follows:
Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly.
Second point. JKR is an adverb sinner, a criminal. Jail. "Do not pass go; do not collect $200." Arrest her for these blatant crimes, please, for the love of god.
Look, I love adverbs. They're great. Don't fucking listen to anyone who outright demonizes them (including your huffy, uppity literature professors). Adverbs are the seasonings of writing. You season your food; you also need to season your writing when the case asks for it.
However...
Adverbs should always be used sparingly when connected to dialogue tags. The setting in this scene is: Harry is in the Gryffindor Common Room at night crouched in front of the fireplace where Sirius is in the fire in a floo call. I read through the whole scene, though I've only shown one page here.
Harry says a line of dialogue 'slowly' three times and Sirius says a line of dialogue 'slowly' two times.
The same adverb 'slowly' is used FIVE FUCKING TIMES IN THREE PAGES.
I want to scream, not gonna lie here. Set this adverb on fire!
What does this adverb do for us in this conversation? What is so important that we have to be told that five lines of dialogue were said slowly? What do they contribute? Spoiler alert: nothing. What are their facial expressions? Harry is 14. He's exhausted since it's well after 1am or so and he's burdened with the new knowledge of dragons for the first task. He's kneeling in front of a very hot fireplace. There's fire fumes and smoke, potentially. Is he fidgeting? Is he yawning? Rubbing his eyes? Bouncing a leg? Is he picking at the carpet or rug?
Harry is a tired, burdened child.
Show me this!
Now I'm not saying that you can't use adverbs in your dialogue tags. There's a huge difference between "he said softly" and "he whispered." It's about balancing the moment when an adverb says just enough versus an adverb replacing well needed scene enrichment. Let's compare this with a section from my HP time travel fanfiction, Terrible, But Great, Chapter Thirty.
Dumbledore nodded at Monty, pocketing his wand. “Mr. Potter.” “Lo, Professor,” said Monty, pout gone, but still a watchful light in his gaze. “Is there a problem?” asked Dumbledore in a mild tone. Ice slipped in between Tom’s ribs, piercing his flesh. Monty tilted his head. “No, sir.” Oh, but Tom knew better. He could see through that innocent facade. The man could’ve been a Slytherin for how much he was cataloguing every little detail, from Tom’s appearance, to the content of the selected books, and to the supplies of ink, quill, and parchment scattered on the surface of the table. Tom masked the raw, whirling feelings in his chest with a well practiced blank, emotionless expression. He willed himself to hide. “Nothing at all, sir,” said Tom lightly. “Young Mr. Potter was regaling me about his friendship with Miss Malfoy.” Monty glanced at Tom, brows furrowing. Those blue eyes were piercing, filled with suspicion. “Was he now?” Dumbledore said; though his tone was still without direct accusation, Tom could hear the hint of it. “Then, may I ask, why a silencing charm was necessary for such a benign conversation?” Tom wet his lips. His throat was dry. “I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library.” “I am awfully loud,” said Monty with a sage nod. “Ah. A noble intent. However, it is not an appropriate use of magic in the library,” said Dumbledore, his gaze firm as it bore down on Tom. “Ten points from Slytherin. I think it’d be wise to take your studies to your common room, Mr. Riddle.” “Yes, sir,” whispered Tom.
I only used "said Tom lightly" once in this section to show Tom attempting to be unaffected by Dumbledore's interference. I did not dialogue dump information in giant chunks. I did utilized actions tags versus adverbs, like Monty tilting his head or Tom licking his lips. I suspect that if JKR had written this scene, she'd have used lines like:
"No, sir," said Monty curiously.
or
"I thought it wise to avoid disturbing others in the library," said Tom nervously.
The adverbs that JKR's uses add nothing to her scenes. They're just thrown into them without a thought. Did she even reread this scene after she wrote it? I cringe in agony if I use an uncommon word more than three or four times in an entire 4,000 to 7,000 word chapter, let alone the same adverb five times in three pages. Good grief.
There are two other adverbs used in this page, hastily and bitterly. Hastily does nothing for the scene and is connected to another issue, but I'll go over that in the end. However, bitterly is one of the adverbs I'd keep. It gives us a glimpse into Harry's feelings here. We need more of this, but we got nothing.
Thus, the overuse of adverbs in JKR's dialogue detracts and steals so much from the scene.
Third point: there's too much dialogue and no description whatsoever. Again, the adverbs are a pathetic attempt to give us something, but they're thrown in there without a damn forethought. We're missing the crackle of the fire and the smell of it. We're missing Sirius' facial expressions. We're missing Harry moving around on the floor, fidgeting, yawning, rubbing his eyes, feeling the heat of the fire, bouncing his legs, picking at the rug, something, anything, etc.
The dialogue is bloated with a terribly boring conversation. It's just endless dialogue with nothing else. No, it's awful. Welcome to the fourth bullet point. This scene focuses on the entirely wrong point. This scene is 100% a plot device and it's terribly done as well. It's three pages about Karkaroff being a Death Eater--oh no he might be trying to kill you, Harry, aaaaaa--and something about Bertha Jorkins being near Voldemort's last location. Meh. Who cares. Somebody has been trying to kill Harry in every book thus far. This isn't a new development, sweetie.
We been done know this, okay? Come on.
This is a stilted, unnatural conversation between Harry and Sirius. It's not realistic. It's not normal. Telling Harry about the Karkaroff's past is boring and does nothing for him. One line, maybe two, for Sirius to say, "Hey, keep an eye out for Karkaroff. He's an old Death Eater." Done. End of Karkaroff information. And cut Bertha Jorkins out altogether. I'm sorry, but why the hell are we talking about a dead woman to a 14 year old kid whose biggest problem at the moment is dealing with a jealous friend, school ostracization, and a giant fire breathing lizard???
These points are important to the plot, but they're not important to Harry.
The plot isn't important. No, it's not.
Harry is the POV character.
Harry is the single most important aspect in every scene and should be treated as such.
The plot should weave around Harry, slowly revealing itself to both Harry and the reader. Harry should not be the weaver of the plot. He should not be used in plot devices.
Do you know what part of the conversation was summarized in the prose between Harry and Sirius in a single paragraph versus the three pages about Karkaroff?
Harry talking about how no one believes him about not putting his name in the Goblet of Fire. About the school hating him. About Ron, about his betrayal and his jealousy. About Rita Skeeter. About seeing the dragons as the first task. These are all important to Harry. These all are causing pain to Harry's heart right now. Somebody give this child a hug, please.
We missed out on exploring Harry's feelings here. The author skips the MOST important part of the conversation, what could've been a deeply emotional, either positive or negative, conversation between Harry and Sirius.
Oh, this scene could've been so good. It could've been amazing. There are so many paths that could've been explored here, too.
We could've had a callous Sirius, who doesn't notice Harry's state of being, and just goes on and on about nothing of importance where Harry clams up. Or we've could've had a comforting Sirius, who attempts to give Harry some actual advice about his friendship with Ron. We could've seen Harry opening up in his body language, connecting with this parental figure in his life. We could've heard a story of Sirius' time as a kid at school with Harry's father and the marauders.
We were robbed of an important moment between Harry and Sirius.
Instead, the author puts the focus on the red herring 'foreshadowing' of Karkaroff. What a waste. She's trying to put suspicion on him, rather than Moody/Barty Crouch Jr., the real Death Eater in disguise. Again, who cares. It's not about them. It's about Harry and how his experiences are affecting him. It's about how he reacts to them.
This scene is a waste of time and paper. It's empty of emotion and movement/flow. It's just there for a set up and it's glaringly obvious during a second read of the book.
When I say, "The writing is bloated and underwritten at the same time." this is what I mean. We're focusing on the wrong things here.
Fifth point. JKR breaks the POV character with the following line:
"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but...
Harry is the POV character. Sirius 'seeing Harry about to speak' should NOT be occurring in the prose whatsoever. To fix this with the bare minimum of effort for this poorly written dialogue line:
"--and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts--" Harry opened his mouth to interject, but Sirius said hastily, "Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm, but..."
I wouldn't write these lines like this, by the way. I just don't want to rewrite this. It's a poor paragraph overall, but this is an example of returning the POV back to Harry. Sirius isn't 'seeing' anything anymore. Harry is doing an action and Sirius reacts to his action.
Breaking POV is a rule that can be occasionally broken, but should be done so with intent and purpose. I'm pretty confident when I say that JKR probably had no idea that this was a mistake on her part in the prose.
All right then.
We have come to an end of Part One in this series. We have dissected a single page and a single scene in JKR's Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The page in question is 333 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.
More to follow because I have lots of pages to go over. This will definitely be series, ah dear.
And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.
Until next time.
Isa
#harry potter#hp#fanfiction#fanfic#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#harry potter discourse#harry potter books#jk rowling#fuck jkr#anti jkr#jk rowling is a terrible writer series by isalise#on writing#writing#writers#writer#authors#author#writing advice#writing stuff#becoming better at writing#writer stuff#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#creative writing#JKR's Terrible Amateur Writing Series
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I still think about that girl who accidentally talked to Nazis at a Palestine rally. It's been dissected and memed to death already, but one point of her bafflingly long essay sticks out to me and I haven't seen people really talk about that aspect of it.
She mentioned her burning need to finally do something about Gaza, that's why she's taking a stand and organizing and getting out there and protesting, right? And yet she starts her essay mentioning that she has KLANSMEN in her extended family and they're a deeply entrenched part of the South where she lives. And I just nodded skeptically because wait wait wait wait wait!
You mean to tell me that a war happening a world away, which does not affect you aside from how much social clout you'll have among your online leftie friends, is important enough to start protesting and organizing and "resisting" for. But you have done nothing about the Klan?? That's just presented as a status quo, they've always existed where you live and always will. Sorry that's just how it is now let's move on?
You could be actually trying to dismantle the KKK in your region, for what little you can actually contribute to that, it's still much more tangible and direct than marching up to a Jewish owned business and shouting "From the River to the Sea!" I think it really speaks to something about White American Leftists. I'm not sure what yet, but I'll let you know. Maybe it's their delusion that they're not "safe," combating injustice so they pick on Israel because truly Israel and Israelis do not care about them. They're gnats.
But according to these WALs, a Jewish state, flawed as it is, merely existing and engaging in combat with its hostile neighbors, is more of a threat, more of a yearning cry for justice, than the Ku Klux Klan?? I know those creeps haven't just been idling by twiddling their thumbs in the post Obama era either. After Charlottesville? No no no, you just don't want to confront your own complicity in White Supremacy (considering you have family in the Klan??). You don't want to disrupt the tenuous truce between the various political factions of your family at Thanksgiving.
But you're gung-ho full steam ahead calling for the largest Jewish community on Earth to lose their sovereignty and possibly their homes, maybe even their lives, and you just don't see an issue with that. You're delusional, you're narcissistic, and you're lazy and immature. You're every bit as pathetic as your conservative father tells you you are.
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It takes two
Chaewon (ex Izone, Le Sserafim) x Male Reader x Minju (ex Izone)
Length: 10383 words
Previous part
What is the difference between love and obsession? For Chaewon the two are basically the same. How can you love someone without being overly obsessed with them? Whatever feeling she had for her ex is, insignificant. You have shown her what love is, what it truly means to be mutually in love. “Chae, can you let me go?” At least that's what she thinks, “No pup, I'm spending the whole night like this, whether you like it or not”, Chae continues hugging you. It's been a few hours since the two of you had sex, now that your mind is clear the first thing that comes into your mind is to contact Minju. Unfortunately Chaewon has wrapped her limbs around you like you are some kind of body pillow and has refused to let go.
“Chae I need to go”, That's not a very appealing argument, “You don't NEED to go anywhere. You belong here, it's been a long day isn't it? Just rest up baby, I've ordered our food already”, Chae peck your lips, giving you a sense of urgency. It feels like, for every second you're here with her, you're just gonna fall deeper and deeper into the abyss. “No, I need to talk with mom. I have dinner with her”, It's very odd, even though you've gained considerable muscle mass, your body would just get easily overpowered by her. “Baby, do you love your mom more than your own wife?” Say yes pussy, bet you won't, “No, it's just that….. she's my mom. She misses me as much as you do”, Called it.
“So what? You're a grown up now babe, you should stop being a mommy's boy. Unless you're into that type of stuff, then I'll be glad to be your mommy”, You struggle so hard to not get an erection from her words. Hard, get it? “Come on Chae, you know she's important to me. Besides you owe her for saving you did you not?” Chae frowns realising you're right. Also your mom is scary, so as a good daughter-in-law Chae will try her best to please her. “Hmpffff, I already ordered some food. But fine, go get dinner with your mom, after that you'll come back right to me. I want you to cuddle with me and feed me okay?” Chae let go of her hug just so she can hold you by the neck. “I….. I'll see later, okay Chae? Mom and I have a long conversation to make”, Chae's eyes darted around trying to dissect your expression to see if anything is off.
“You. Will. Come. Back. To. Me. Tonight.” Every word spoken with venom, and it might be your imagination, but you can feel her hands constrict around your neck. “Okay, I'll try”, Not good enough, “If you don't come back tonight, I will lock you up in here myself”, That is a good sign for you to never come back here. “Okay, I promise”, A smile forms on her face, “Good, then why don't I help you wash up before you meet your mom? I'll help you pick your clothes'', Chae pulls you up from the bed. “I…… I can shower by-”, Chae wouldn't let you finish your sentence and just kiss you. It's effective, you're half starstruck by her kiss and half guilty for all this. “I think you're just being shy. Come on baby you already saw my naked body”, Chae sees your silence and feels victorious, “Okay, but don't do anything funny Chae. I'm drained”, She frowns a little but she understands, for now.
Chae did not in fact do anything funny in the showers, she simply enjoys your body by caressing it a little but she never does anything more than that. “Okay, I want you to call me once you're there, and call me once you finish dinner okay? If you forgot to call me I'm gonna have to punish you after you come home”, Chae gives you an ultimatum, “Okay Chae, I'll see you later”, A quick kiss for good luck and she sends you off. Now where do you go from here? “Mom, I'm gonna be spending the night at Minju's place okay?” Would Minju be able to protect you better than your mom? “Haaaaaa, you spend 20 something years being confined in home and now you have a girlfriend and you don't even bother to greet your mom?” She doesn't sound that mad, “Sorry mom, I just forgot time while hanging out with Chae and I need to talk to Minju”, Hopefully it won't be the last time you ever talk to Minju. “Fine, but I want you to come back home tomorrow and tell me everything about her. Don't make your mom meet your girlfriend when I don't know a single thing about her”, You should do that, if Minju decides to let go.
“You know, you have some nerve ignoring me for almost the whole day”, Minju frowned at you the moment you got to her apartment, “Oh sorry, I just got carried away”, It's hard, it's really hard to face her right now. “Well come in, don't be a stranger. I hope you like the place, I haven't had time to clean it up”, Minju grabs your hand and pulls you in. The whole place is nice, but you don't really get to enjoy it as your heart is being eaten alive by guilt. “I'm too lazy to go outside babe, let's order some take out. I hope my favourite ramen place hasn't closed yet while we're gone”, Minju pushes you to the couch before laying on top of you.
“Minju……. I have something to tell you”, Minju raises her head while looking at you curiously, “It's about Chaewon. Something happened today”, Your whole body is shaking while your heart might just burst any moment. This confrontation isn't something you've thought through. “Babe? What happened today?” You suddenly feel her hand touching your face, unlike the usual warm and inviting sensation you only feel chill running down your spine. It's rare, but there are times when Minju would outright terrify you with her gaze, this is one of those times. “I don't know what happened to her but-”, Minju grabs your mouth shutting you up, her mouth is smiling but her eyes are, well they're just blank.
“I don't care about what happened to her. I want to know what she did to you. Did she hurt you again baby?” Minju turns her body around, now laying on top of you face to face. “I…..” Just from your demeanour alone she can tell what happened, which angers her. Without waiting for your answer her hand ripped open your shirt to expose your chest that has been filled with new hickeys. “Baby, were you cheating on me?” Her hand lowers to your throat, much like how Chae did today, “I didn't mean to. But she just keep pushing herself on me and I-” Lied, you lied because truthfully you got lost in the moment and accepted her advances. “Oh? That whore raped you?” You flinch hearing Minju's accusations, “I mean, I'm not sure if it could be considered as one”, You're torn apart from trying to tell her that you cheated on her, while also trying to shift the blame from yourself. Honestly, this might end worse if you don't come clean, fully clean.
“No, no, no, no, no, no baby. If you don't want that to happen then it's rape, but if you do then it's cheating. So did she rape you or did you cheat on me?” For the second time in your life you are being strangled. Weird how both happen on the same day and by the two girls you hold dear to your heart. “It’s complicated, okay babe? She's confused and-”, Now this is an interesting strategy, trying to shift the blame from yourself and Chae by acting like she is insane. “I don't fucking care about what she is, all I'm asking is did she or did she not rape you?” Minju takes away your right to breathe. “Baby please”, You gurgled out, “No, say it. Did she rape you?” Fuck maybe Minju is just as insane as Chae is. Hey at least she has a good reason to, you're her boyfriend after all.
“Minju please, I have known her for so long and I know she's not right in the head right now. Please I'm really sorry for what happened today but I don't want her to-”, The answer is still inadequate for her, so she choke you again. “Baby….”, You tried to free yourself from her hand but it's really pointless, just like with Chae, your body just refuses to go against Minju. “It's been a long day baby. Let's rest up”, Minju whispers in your ears as everything fades to black.
.
.
.
The next day, you woke up with a headache, as you tried to get up you felt Minju resting on top of you. “Where are you going?” She is also woken up due to your sudden movement. “What? Where am I?” You try your best to recall what happened last night. “Hmmm? You're in our bed baby, just lay down and rest okay? It's still midnight”, It's not the next day, and it's not a good time to rest up. “Minju, I….”, Go on, protest about what just happened earlier last night, “What? Is your throat hurting baby? I'm sorry I guess I just got ‘carried away’, you know how it is”, Minju stares at you with some disdain in her eyes.
“I know I fucked up, I'm sorry. I understand if you want to-”, Your words interrupted by a sudden pain in your chest, “You think you can just cheat on me and leave me? You're gonna have to make it up to me babe”, Well, you're not really ready to break up with her from your mistake. However the way she says that makes you think that it's better to break up with her. “Baby….. I cheated on you”, All it takes is just a near death experience for you to say that, “I know, and I'm not over that, in fact I don't think that I will be over that anytime soon. But let's not forget, she raped you”, Talking about Chae, she must be furious with the fact that you went off grid.
“No Minju, i-”, Minju shut you up with a kiss, it's really, unsettling. The kiss feels like how Chae-, okay what is up with you? Why do you keep comparing her to Chae? Do you actually have feelings for Chaewon? “She's still in your mind isn't she?” Minju also notices it, “I’m sorry”, You can almost hear a snapping sound, as if a rope just got ripped from a heavy tension. “Baby”, She touches your cheek again making you pull back out of fear, “Sssshhhh, I'm not mad”, You didn't pick up on it, but she's telling the truth. Minju is not mad at all.
“Minju I just don't think I'm really over Chae. I'm sorry okay? I never want to hurt you, I guess I treated you like a rebound girl and I only realised it now. Today, when I saw Chae again I felt like I just got hit by a truck of memories. Maybe I am just pathetic like that, but I don't want to drag you down with me. Yeah I know Chae probably finds me to be a rebound guy as well, but i just can't let go of her. So I'm sorry, but I think I'm just a hopeless romantic who keep chasing someone I can never get”
Minju stays quiet for a while, it's the type of silence you've never seen from her before. She has always been cheerful and chatty, so seeing her in this state made you realised you really fucked up. You fucked up a promising relationship that could've and should've been a better option than whatever the hell is going on between you and Chae. “Oh baby, I do think you're pathetic”, That's harsh, but you deserve it. “Which is why I can't be mad at you. How can I be mad at a dog who is loyal to it's master”, What the fuck? Since when has Minju become so mean? “Minju, I'm sorry. I deserve that”, Is she mean though? Or is she just speaking facts?
“It's okay baby, I see what's happening now. I fell in love with a slave who has grown to love the collar that's hanging around his neck”, A kiss to your cheek, filled with so many sinister thoughts. You being you, only think it as her anger, completely missing the darkness within it. “Of course as a nurse I can't just sit still when someone needs my help”, You acknowledge that you need help, but it feels like she's talking about a different kind of help. “Minju, what are you talking about?” She leans in and kisses you again, her hands grab both of yours and push it against the bed. It feels wrong, but you can't pull away.
“Listen baby, whatever she's done to you, it's much worse than I expected. I was thinking that she must've hurt you a lot after all those years of leading you on. Now, I realised she has left a permanent mark in my man's heart. So I'll help you get away from her. After all if I want all of you I will need you to be in one piece, with no part of you being clutched by her”
You stare at her with confusion, what the hell is she talking about? “Haaaaa, what I mean is I'll help you get over her okay? Like an adult would, by having a….. civil conversation”, In your confused state you completely miss the ambiguous tone she uses on the last two words. “No Minju, I don't want to make things even harder for you okay?” You plead, “Ssshhh, I know you're too kind for your own good. That Chae girl really means a lot to you right? So let's have a talk with her tomorrow. I'll be there and make sure nothing bad happens. Relax baby, I'm not blaming you, for now. Your kindness is why I love you after all”, This isn't how you expect things to turn out.
“Baby I don't know what to say”, Do you want to get over Chae? Or is she way too deeply rooted in your heart? “Let's do that okay baby? I'll accompany you to her place at lunch, then we can go to dinner with your mom. Perfect right?” Absolutely foolproof plan one might add. “You don't have to do that”, Whatever feeling you have in your heart you just label it as guilt. Despite it actually being a plea for salvation. Nothing good can come out of the lunch. Chae's domineering attitude alongside Minju’s sudden change of heart would just clash too much. But if you don't know then you don't know, hopefully you're ready for tomorrow.
“I, need to have breakfast with my mom first if you want to have dinner with her later”, Minju smiles and shrug, “I'll drop you off at her place then, and I'll pick you up after”, You look around to search for your phone, let's see how Chae will react to this. “Looking for your phone?” Minju pulls it out of the locked bedside cabinet, why does she put it there? “Yes maybe I should tell Chae first”, Minju gives it to you, but only after she pulls you into her embrace so that she can watch over your phone.
The first thing you notice is the 40 missed calls alongside 100+ texts from Chae. “It seems like she must've been as hopeless as you are'', Minju kisses your cheek while you open the wall of texts Chae has sent you. “I, feel worried about her”, Chae is not in the right state of mind, you get that, but you didn't expect her to turn so drastically out of nowhere. As you open your chat messages, Chae can see you have read them, so she instantly called you. “Answer it babe, put it on speaker”, Don't do it, “Okay”, You fucking idiot.
“WHERE ARE YOU PUP? I TOLD YOU TO COME HOME AFTER DINNER AND IT'S ALREADY WELL PAST MIDNIGHT. COME. HOME. NOW!!!!” Chae's voice blares through the speaker, echoing the walls of Minju’s bedroom. “You must be Chaewon right?” Minju answered in a…… friendly manner. Chae stays quiet for a while, “Who is this?” You can almost feel Chae hiss into your ear. “I'm Minju, my boyfriend told me a lot about you”, Chae didn't answer immediately but you could hear a loud crash from the other side. “Chae? What happened?” Of course you being you can't help but feel worried for her. “Babe? What are you doing with that bitch?” You glanced back at Minju, scared of how she would react. Surprisingly there's a meaningful smile hanging in her face, as if she finds this to be enjoyable.
“Oh he's just resting for the night. It's been a long day after all, both of us just got off the plane this morning and we're completely messed up by the jetlag”
“If he want to rest he can rest in his apartment, WITH ME”
“Oh? But it's not his apartment, his home is right here with me”
“Fuck you, where are you pup? I'm picking you up”
“I don't think so. My lovely boyfriend is going to rest for the night so please don't bother us”
“Listen up whore. HE'S NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND. Now fuck off and bring him back to me”
“Oh I'm sorry, but I don't think you two are in a relationship”
“We are bitch. So stop taking him away from me”
“Uggghhhh, so crude. You sure this is the same girl you've always talked to me about babe? She's a bad influence for you”
“FUCKER WHERE ARE YOU”
“Now, now, why don't you stop screaming and let me talk for once”
“I'M NOT SPENDING TIME TO HEAR A RANT FROM A WHORE. TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE RIGHT NOW BEFORE I CALL THE COPS”
“The cops? Where are you gonna send them to? You don't know where I live. Where WE live”
“Fucking bitch”
“Listen up Chae, can I call you Chae?”
“WHERE ARE YOU?”
“So Chae, my boyfriend here told me about what you did earlier today”
“So you know he belongs to ME. So stop being a fucking whore and return him to me”
“I must say I feel sad for him. Imagine going home after a year long job and meeting back with your old friend. Then instead of having a wholesome-”
“STOP FUCKING RANTING CUNT”
“Catch-up conversation you just got raped instead. I don't know you Chae, but I feel disappointed at you”
“What rape? It's love, stop lying to yourself. You know he loves me more than you”
“He does? Oh sweetie, are you aware of Stockholm Syndrome? Of course you are, after all you experienced it with your ex don't you?”
“Fuck off, don't put words into his mouth. Our love is pure and strong. It's you who's corrupting him so fuck off”
“I never put words into his mouth, I just make an educated guess”
“Stop this already, tell me where you are before I really lose my patience”
“So feisty. Anyway WE are calling because we want to set up a lunch with you tomorrow. You can do that right?”
“What fucking lunch? He's mine so stop taking him away from me. I swear to god I will tear you apart the moment I see you”
“That's good to hear sweetie, we'll come by tomorrow at lunch, see you tomorrow”
Oh right you're also here. Well most of the time you just cower in fear as the two girls brawl it out. You didn't even do anything when Minju hung up the call and took your phone away from your hand. “That went well right? Let's go back to sleep baby, you have to wake up early to meet your mom tomorrow after all”, Minju turns off your phone and locks it back in her bedside cabinet. Clueless as you are, you at least realise this lunch would end in your death. But what can you do? You can't confront Chae, she will just do whatever she wants with you. You also can't deal with Minju, your stomach would just twist and turn out of guilt for cheating on her. “Y-y-y-yeah, let's”, Your fate is sealed, you will die by tomorrow noon.
“Why are you holding her hand?” From the get go things are already going bad. Chaewon immediately tries to rip you away from Minju’s hand, however Minju wouldn't let go so a vicious tug if war started between the girl with you being the rope. “Enough, can't you see my boyfriend is hurting here?” Minju pulls your face into her embrace. The gesture really terrifies you because, “He's MY boyfriend”, Chaewon would just rip you out of Minju's hand. “Girls please, can we just stop this first?” You're gonna have to do better than that bucko. “Baby I'm trying to protect you from this fucking bitch okay? So just help me then I will stop”, Chae do another pull, “Look at her babe, first she hurt and torture you mentally for years, now she just starts to hurt you physically as well. Guess it's true what they said about the victim turning into the aggressor”, Minju shakes her head while pulling you back into her arms.
“You fucking what?” Chae's face turns sour, “What? Is it not true?” Minju kisses your cheek. “Hey, fuck off”, Chae sends a punch to Minju's face, and for the first time ever your body actually moves to stop her. “Chae”, You raise your voice making her frown even deeper, “See babe? She's insane and violent. You're lucky I'm here to save you”, Minju sighs, “Don't you dare speak another word bitch or I'll rip your face apart”, Chae then turns to you and kisses your other cheek, as an ultimatum of course. “Enough, I promise my boyfriend that I will be here to have a civil conversation with you, so let's have one shall we?” Minju smiles at Chae with confidence, “Fucking fake bitch”, Chae muttered under her breath.
Thankfully Chae does accept the invitation by pulling you, and by proxy Minju as well, to the couch. You sat down being sandwiched by the two of them. Chae's fiery and aggressive aura clashes against Minju's cold and elegant aura. This looks familiar.
“So, Chae”
“Don't you fucking call me that”
“Chae, as you can see. Me and my boyfriend here is having a perfectly beautiful relationship”
“Oh I'm sorry, I think you're having a misunderstanding here. He's my boyfriend and you're getting in between us”
“I'm not a psychiatrist so I'm afraid I can't help you with your delusion. Of course I can refer you to some people who have the ability to help you”
“Delusion? That's rich coming from you. Don't you realise you're just a rebound girl for him?”
“I am? But you see it can't really be classified as a rebound if he's never been in a relationship with you in the first place don't you think?”
“What do you know about us? We have a strong relationship long before you even know him. It's pure and driven by nothing but love”
“I know enough. You two were just friends okay? Your love is being held by your ex boyfriend, how was he by the way? You two made up yet?”
“He’s not important and I do not love him. Don't put words in my mouth”
“Oh? So you were tormenting my poor baby here just for fun?”
“I never tormented him, we were young and clueless. I've already said sorry and he accepted it. Now we are more mature and has open up about our own feelings for each other”
“He doesn't have any feelings for you. Not anymore, after all I'm holding his heart, isn't that right babe?”
“Oh? You just called me an abuser earlier and now you are showing off your true colour. Don't trust this slut babe, she's playing with your heart okay?”
“Did I ever use the word abuser? How could you start putting words in my mouth when you just literally turn furious because you think I put words in your mouth? Are you perhaps a hypocrite?”
“Is that what you're having a problem with right now? Haaaaaa, it's always nice when the person you're arguing against starts talking about semantics. It's a sign that I'm winning”
“Talking about semantics I should make clear that this is not an argument. There's nothing to argue about”
“For the first time I agree with you, there's nothing to argue about. Right babe?” Chae leans forward and kisses your cheek.
“See, we're in agreement already. Did you like her farewell kiss babe? Now this is settled we should go back to our place and prepare for the dinner with your mom”
“Oh I see, you're projecting”
“About what?”
“About my delusion. Because you must be having something wrong with your head if you think I'll let my boyfriend leave with some whore”
“I see now, this is worse than I expected. We should get you to a mental asylum soon. A loss grasp of reality is a sign of schizophrenia”
“You see what she's doing here babe? She's trying to gaslight you. I think she's trying to put on a hero façade to try and hide the fact that she's the abuser here”
“Awww, don't be like that, aren't you weak with a hero complex? That's why you fall for MY boyfriend after all”
“That's true, but that doesn't change the fact that you're a whore and an abuser”
“This feels like a funny joke isn't it babe? You become a hero to save little Chae here from her abusive boyfriend. Now I'm gonna be the hero to save you from her. I think that's karma, or something like that”
“MY boyfriend doesn't need saving from me. Besides if it's karma then it's my turn to save him from you”
You're pathetic, you know that? While these two are fighting it out with words you just sat there like a meek puppy and didn't try to intervene at all. What's that? You're trying to sort out your feelings to pick which one to side with? Well you better hurry up soon or they would probably split you into two just so the other can't have you.
Luna seems to sniff your fear and jumps to sit on your lap. Giving you a cute meow to try and calm you down.
“Oh look, Luna acknowledge her master, and her master's wife”
“Wife? My, my, aren't you moving too quick? Does his mother even know about this relationship? You know my darling here loves his mother more than anything in the world don't you?”
“Of course she does, my mother-in-law would love to have us put on the ring”
“Is that so? Babe isn't your mom a police officer with decades of experience? Maybe I wasn't needed here, after all she would pick up all the red flags your friend here is showing”
“You’re right about one thing. You're not needed here, so why don't you take your pretty fake smile out of here”
The two have a little staring contest for a few seconds before the two of them leap in and hug you. “I think she's hopeless babe, let's just leave before she gets aggressive”, Minju tries her best to pull you away, “She's a manipulative bitch who's trying to steal you away from me babe. You see it right? Her fake smile?” Chae wouldn't let you move. “Stop confusing my boyfriend please”, Minju pulled your head into her embrace, “Your boyfriend?” Chae pulls your head back, almost snapping your neck while she's at it.
This time Chae pulls you into a kiss, trying to show Minju how strong your ‘love’ is for her. Minju wouldn't let Chae have her way and push her away before kissing you. “He’s mine, bitch”, For some reason Chae grabs onto your shirt and rips the button apart. “Are you sexually harassing my boyfriend right in front of me?” Minju scoffed, “See this? It's my mark, he's mine”, Chae pointed at the countless hickeys she left you yesterday. “Sorry to disappoint you sweetie, but I already covered them with my own”, Minju smiled proudly. Whatever is brewing between the two isn't good for you. First, you can feel their frustration against each other start to boil and spill over to their sexual craving. Second, they stop caring about your opinion entirely and just do anything they can to show their ownership over you.
“What are you doing?” Minju finally raises her voice as she sees Chaewon is nibbling on your chest. “He likes it when I bite him. Look at his face”, You are showing a pained expression but the two think you're enjoying it. “I know how to pleasure him better”, The fuck is happening? Like seriously what are they doing? “Can you say any truthful words just once?” Chae rolls her eyes at Minju before making out with you.
Minju pulls down your pants and boxer, exposing your flaccid cock, “Haaaa, he's not even turned on by your advances”, Chae frowns seeing what Minju is doing. “Probably because your ugly ass is here bitch”, Chae tries to grab your cock but Minju slaps her hand away before kissing your cock. “Unlike you, I've been spending a year with him, exploring our body and kinks. I know what he's weak too”, The balls, that's what you're weak too. Minju leans forward and starts kissing your balls making your cock get semi erect involuntarily. “See?” Minju sends Chae a victorious smile, “Move bitch”, Chae pushes Minju away and starts to suck your cock, making you let out a moan, involuntarily as well.
Chae sends a meaningful glare at Minju before she swallows your cock all the way into her throat. How does she manages to do it when she can barely take you in her mouth yesterday? It's the pure power of spite she has towards Minju that pushes her over the max. “Fucking bitch he's mine”, Minju grab Chaewon by the hair and pull her away from your cock. The moment your dick got exposed to the cold air Minju leaps in and effortlessly swallow it down. Minju bobs her head up and down for a few second before Chaewon pull her back and take control of the blowjob.
Minju leans down and starts sucking on your balls, having your weak point attacked makes you let out another moan. “See? I know his weakness”, Minju smiles at Chaewon who just glares at her. “Yeah? My baby loves my body more”, Chae takes off her top and climbs up to you, pushing her tits to your mouth while her hand jerks you off. You try to stop her but the moment you open your mouth she just pushes her tits to your mouth. “Go on baby, I know you like to stare at them for years already”, Just as you thought this whole thing couldn't be more embarrassing.
“Move your hand”, Minju bites Chaewon's hand and starts sucking your cock as Chae lets go. Seeing Chaewon is about to snap, your mouth starts to move and bite on her nipples. It manages to calm her down, but this also means you're encouraging them to continue. “See? He likes me”, Chae starts to caress your hair, Minju takes your cock off her mouth and her hand continues jerking you off. “So you just want to use him to pleasure yourself? Can't say that I'm surprised”, Minju uses both of her hands to jerk you off but her face is scowling. “Just say that you're jealous bitch, we are meant to be”, Chae reached down and tried to take over your cock.
Surprisingly Minju let it go, she crawls on your side and just jerks you off with one hand like Chae. “Come here babe”, With her other hand, Minju pulled you for a kiss. A moan slips out of your mouth feeling their hand start to move together in unison. “I don't think you understand, he's only moaning because he loves my slender little finger”, Chae scoffed before busying herself with your neck. “Deny, deny, deny, is that all you can do?” Minju took a break from kissing you just to bite back before jumping in to kiss you again. This whole thing is too much to you really. Your mind is very conflicted while your body is definitely turned on getting pleasured by the two women you love the most.
“You're cumming baby? Go ahead cum for me”, Chae bites your ear, “I know you've been horny since last night babe. Go on, cum for me”, Minju breaks off the kiss and starts biting your neck. Your body starts to shake as your cum shoots out. Chae has an inhuman reflex and puts her hand over your tip, effectively catching your sperm. After a while your ejaculation passed. Your cum drips down Chae’s hand into your shaft and Minju’s hand that's gripping your cock tight. As you are taking a breather the two girls get possessed by a sudden hunger and start licking your cum off of their hands. When that's not enough they jump down and have a scuffle trying to lick as many as they can from your cock.
“I did that”
“Ha, you wish, it was my kiss that sent him over the edge. He's a softie after all”
“I think you're just projecting a lot, because it seems like you are the delusional one over here”
“If it's not for you he would cum under 5 second by me”
“Tchhh, all barks and no bites”
“I'll prove it to you right now, move bitch”
This couldn't end well for you.
.
.
.
Pain, that's all you can feel right now. Your whole body is drained out of energy. The two of them take turns riding you while trying to prove something to the other one. After the 5th ejaculation you just pass out on the couch. Maybe it's a blessing because the two went to a loud argument blaming the other for masking you like this for an hour or so.
“Fuck”, You grunted as your conscious starts to come back to you. A heavy weight was out on top of both of your hands, looking around you realised the two are sleeping with you, each holding your arm. You're still in Chaewon's apartment, the room that you've lived in for years has turned to the worst. This is the second time you woke up here being held against your will after a mind-blowing sex that was forced upon you.
What is happening? Why am I falling into this? I never asked for this, at all.
This whole thing is too much, you already have your guilt eating you alive after the cheating sex you had with Chaewon yesterday. Then you confront Minju about it and change her into this, you're not really sure what she turns into. Lastly, this whole lunch went way off the rail. You didn't even get lunch, the two of them do by drinking your cum while you just flop around like a fish.
Fuck why is this happening to me?
You don't like this?
No way, I didn't ask for this.
Did you ever ask for this not to happen?
Huh?
You never asked for this but it's not like you take a stand and pick one of them.
It's all happening in one day. I don't have time to sort out my feelings.
That's true, but this whole thing could've been avoided if you just took a stand. Stop Chaewon before she pulls you to the bed yesterday. Break up with Minnie or even ghost him like an asshole. Or just simply stop their argument earlier before they start fucking you. It's really simple, pick one and they will protect you from the other.
Fuck, is it my fault?
Not fully, let's be real this two are fucked in the head.
Fuck it's all my fault.
Uhhhhh, are you also going insane?
Fuck why did I let this happen?
Minju and Chaewon are deep in their sleep, they are also tired after all. Chae can't sleep the whole night as she's worried about you. Minju was restless and angry about your cheating, making her sleep less than ideal. So they don't get woken up when you get off the bed and put on your clothes. Standing there in your room, you watch the two girls sleep peacefully. You look at their face with a twisting pain in your heart, they look so peaceful that you feel guilty for bringing this storm to their life.
I need to fix this.
That's true you should take a sta-
I need to leave them.
Wait what?
I did this to them. If I'm not around, they won't be tormented by me.
Oh come on stop this drama queen act.
I'm sorry, Chae. I'm sorry, Min. This is all my fault.
Are you seriously crying?
Please be safe.
Dude, you just ran away for a year because you got heartbroken. Are you seriously trying to run away again because of this? Even if you can literally fix this by being a FUCKING GROWN UP and just pick one.
.
.
.
Dear god, you're hopeless. Once again, you run away from your home, trying to get away from all these conflicting emotions that you have. You ran all the way to your mom's home again. It's so fucking stupid, you've been in this position before and this is how you react? After a year of some self finding journey you return back at home without changing at all. You didn't lose your feelings for Chae. You didn't mature and find the courage to stand up for yourself. You didn't do jackshit.
Anyway, enough ranting. You return home, your mom is still out there at work so it's empty. You ran back to your bedroom, dropping yourself to your bed trying to calm yourself. Maybe you did something while you're out there, you managed to fix your terrible physical health and run all the way here without completely exhausting your body. That being said, you are mentally drained, so the moment your body touches the bed you just drift off to sleep. Like usual, you refuse to confront your feelings and run away from your responsibility.
This time, the consequences will be dire.
“Look what you did, you made him run away again. Goddamnit slut I just got him back and now he's ruining off again”, Chaewon screams at Minju. “ME? You were the one who caused him to run away last time, what makes you think that it's not your fault this happens again?” Minju screamed back. “If I could kill you right now I will”, Chae stares at Minju with a gaze that could kill, it would definitely kill you if she uses it on you. “Fuck off, I've had it with you and your antics. I tried to keep up a nice attitude-”, Chae wouldn't let Minju finish her words, “I fucking knew it, fucking fake bitch”, Chae screams.
“Shut up you”, For the first time, a physical scuffle breaks out. Well calling it a scuffle would be a reach, Minju simply slaps Chae to shut her up. “Oh try that again, please I'm begging you”, Chae isn't mad over the slap, her fury is already over the top. She does feel excited as she can try to beat Minju up and call it self defence if Minju tries to touch her again. “Can’t you fucking see what you're doing right now? Do you really think he only finds me to be his rebound girl?” Minju restrains herself from sending another slap.
“What am I doing? Bitch open your eyes”
“Stop for a second and think will you? Why do you think he ran away?”
“Because you're confusing him”
“Wrong, it's you who's confusing him. The details aren't important right now. What's important is that you make him feels conflicted”
“Like I said, he won't feel conflicted if you're not here”
“Do you actually think that would solve the problem?”
“Yes, fuck off and leave us alone”
“Oh you absolute buffoon. If your ‘love’ or so you call it is so strong, then why hasn't he stood up for you?”
“Tcch, you manipulated him until he can't think straight anymore”
“You really can't see what I'm trying to say, do you?”
“What? Stop being so fucking cryptic you fake bitch. Just spill it already”
“He can't choose between us”
“That's stupid”
“He's stupid”
“He's my boyfriend!”
“So you think he's smart?”
“........fuck off”
“Unlike you I actually care about him”
“What makes you think I don't huh?”
“Because you're more focused on making him yours rather than making him happy”
“Wrong!!!! I know how to make him happy, it's to grant him his wish that he has been holding on for years”
“Does he know that? Because as far as I remember you had a ‘date’ with him yesterday and yet he's busy texting me the whole time isn't he?”
Chaewon finally understands what Minju is going at, and she hates it.
“Are you actually saying that you managed to steal a piece of his heart already?”
Minju sighs seeing Chaewon finally getting her.
“I hate it, I hate the fact that I fall for someone who's still being chained up by you”
“You think I'm happy seeing him run off for a year and get taken by you?”
“I love him, more than anything in the world”
“I would die for him, and I would kill you if he ever asked me to”
“So do you understand what I'm saying now?”
Minju and Chaewon look at each other with animosity. It was as if they're trying to manifest the hatred they have in their heart to hurt the other person. Yet there's this hint of understanding between them. Sometimes, one must compromise in order to achieve their desire. Even if they absolutely loathe what they have to give up for it.
“I fucking hate you”
“The feeling is mutual”
“But if this is what it takes to keep him happy”
“Then I'll…… tolerate you”
“Yeah, tolerate”
“Peace, for now”
The two reluctantly reach out their hand with a look of disdain in their face. Then the two shake hands, creating a temporary alliance. An alliance that could prove to be detrimental to your mortality.
“He ran off to his mom. He always do”
“I need to fix that momma's boy attitude of his”
“That's my job”
“Where is his mom's place? We have a dinner with her later”
“Fuck if his mom notice anything wrong he's gonna take him away from me”
“From us”
“I'm coming to the dinner”
“Can you even put on a smile when I'm around”
“I can manage if you're not in my field of view”
“Fine, but if things goes wrong-”
“It won't, not let's move. His mom should be home in an hour. It's best that we get to him before her”
“Let's move then”
.
.
.
“Oy!” A loud scream woke you up from your sleep, it was followed by a painful slap to your back. “Agggghhhh, mom?” You grunted as you tried to wake up. “Why are you sleeping here?” You had such a nice and peaceful sleep, shame that you have to be woken up by reality. “Oh, well, it's a long story”, You grimaced remembering what happened earlier today. “God how on earth did I raise you for you to become like this?” Should you run away from your mom as well? “Sorry mom, there's a change of plan for the dinner today”, Your hand starts to get fidgety. “I know”, Your hand stopped, you look at her confused.
Did Minju contact mom? Oh god did Chaewon contact mom?
“W-w-w-what?” You managed to say, “Minju and Chaewon are already downstairs. Now go wash yourself and join us at the dinner table”, You can feel your heart just stop beating for a moment there. You look at your mom completely surprised and scared, too distracted with what she just said to register her slap to your head and her words to hurry up as she leaves your bedroom.
Chae and Min are here? What are they doing here? Oh god why are they here? Mom's gonna kill me if she hears what I did yesterday and today.
You sat on your bed for what felt like hours, despite only 5 minutes passed. Reluctantly you get off your bed and wash your face. Good, face your fears. Face your emotions and the consequences of your actions. Stop being a fucking pussy that run away from everything and everyone. It took you 10 minutes to gather your courage. Finally you take a deep breath and make your way to the battlefield.
““Hey oppa””
That is not the sound of a battlefield. They also don't look like they're preparing for war. Perhaps, this isn't a war, but maybe it would be much worse. “Stop standing there and sit down will you?” Your mom sighs seeing your stunned face. As you love to the dinner table the two girls pull you to sit down between them. Silence persists for some time before your mom starts to distribute the food. “We really want to try and cook something for dinner ma'am, but we kinda forgot time. I hope you'll like the food we bought”, Chae says, “It's fine, it sounds like my son just decided to sleep instead of preparing dinner for us after all”, Your mom glares at you.
“I-i-i-i-”, Don't know what to say. For a second you're considering the possibility that this is just a dream. “Oh, babe is just tired after last night. It was my fault, I'm sorry”, Minju squeezed your hand to make sure you know it's not a dream, “Yeah, I think I also drained him yesterday”, Chae followed suit by pinching your cheek. “It's fine, I know this restaurant, they have pretty nice ramen”, Your leg starts to fidget around making Minju and Chaewon reach down and squeeze it.
“So, Minju right? I've heard a few thing about you”
“Really ma'am? What did babe say about me?”
“Just call me mom or something. You too Chaewon, how many times have I told you to stop calling me ma'am”
“Ooppps, sorry ma'am. Can I call you mom as well then?”
“I guess he does leave you to be babysitted by me”
Chae shows a prideful smile for a second to Minju before turning to her food.
“So it seems like the two of you have spent more time with him since his return than me. Why don't you start to talk sweetie? First tell me why you never brought up that these two are sisters?”
They are?
“What?”
Both Chae and Minju kicked your leg lightly hearing your panicked voice. They exchanged a glance before nodding.
“We also don't know that. Babe never talks much about Chaewon. I mean he told me about her but I never made the connection”
“Yeah, and Minju never send me a letter for a full year”
“Oh please you never want to hear from me for years already”
“Well that's true, but can't you at least contact me before you run away like that again?”
A new theory has come inside your head. Perhaps you got transported into a different universe.
“Sweetie, you never think about telling me this?”
Your mom forces you to stop imagining things and snap back to reality.
“W-w-w-w-well, I didn't had the time”
“Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”
That's a pretty long sigh, something you know means your mom is absolutely way too tired to deal with anything.
“I'm sorry……. mom. I got too excited yesterday since he got home after a year of no contact. I just drag him across town to have a makeover”
“See? You prefer spending time with him over your own sister”
Why the fuck would they actually lied and acted like they're sister?
“Well, maybe you should contact me first? You just text me today asking if you can move in with me”
Oh, that's why.
“Move in with you?”
“Oh right, uhhhhh my apartment lease is already up. I was thinking about staying with Chae here for a while until I find another one. Of course, the world is small and we found out that she's staying at babe’s previous apartment”
“Yeah, the apartment is pretty big, so we can definitely share it for now”
“Of course, just a temporary arrangement as we-” Minju grabs your hand “-adjust to our normal lifestyle and find a new one”
Your mom was about to say something until she heard some tapping from below the table.
“What is that?”
She tries to look below the table but Chae stops her.
“Oh pup is just being nervous as usual”
“Hehehe, he's kinda scared about the living arrangements. But I'm sure we'll be fine, right babe?”
Chaewon reaches out to pat your head while Minju is gently caressing your hand. Beneath the table their leg went on top of yours to stop it from moving.
“Uh yeah…… this feels….. awkward”
The word you're looking for is worrisome or terrifying, but you realise the two would absolutely shred you if you keep acting weird.
“I imagine so. Well Minju, seeing my son is absolutely trapped in his own anxiety, why don't you tell me more about yourself. I want to know how my son can get his hand on someone who's way out of his own league”
“Hahahaha, you're too kind, mom. Well it starts when we meet on the plane…..”
In a way, it's kinda good that Minju takes the attention away from you. However this means Chae gets to do some bold stuff to you. Chae caress your thighs and occasionally get higher and grab your junk, right at the dinner table. Many times you tried to stop her, yet it just made her attack even more relentless.
“Babe, can you show me where the bathroom is?” Minju has been noticing Chae's shenanigans and decides she needs to stop it. “Right, follow me”, The two girls send a glare at each other for a second before you guide Minju away. “So, why did you never tell me that you have a sister?” Your mom isn't stupid, she smells something fishy going on. “Well she's not exactly around for that long…….”
While Chae is making up some bullshit at the dinner table, you are being pinned down to the bathroom’s wall by Minju. “Min, what's happening right now?” The sight of your panicked face really makes Minju believe this is a right decision. “Listen baby, it's a long story. For now just know that me and Chaewon aren't in a hostile relationship. I'll tell you more about it later but for now be a good boy for me and stop acting so scared in front of your own mom”, Minju gently caresses your cheek, enjoying the power she has over you. “What does that supposed to mean? Mina I…… I left you and you two were-” Minju shut you up by holding your lips with her fingers. “I'm not over that babe. I don't like it that you just ran away from us”, She gave your cheek a little slap which made you wince.
“For now just be a good boy and follow our lead okay? If Chae starts groping you again I'm gonna cover for you this time”, Do you really want to return to the dinner table? Looking at Minju, defying her words might be the worst option, so you reluctantly follow her back. “Sorry about that, so where were we?” Minju returns and takes control of the conversation again. Chae still tries to tease you but Minju keeps getting in her way starting a little scuffle at the dinner table. Fortunately your mom was too tired to notice anything. “You must be tired mom. You should go get rest, we….. also need some rest”, As per usual you just keep speaking out loud your concerns.
“Yeah, that might be for the best”, Your mom said, making the two girls nod happily. “Please have a nice rest mom”, Chae says while her face is beaming with a smile, “Thank you for the dinner invitation, I hope we'll meet again soon mom”, Minju also has a smile on her face. “Yeah, be careful on the way home”, The two then practically drag you out of there before you get to say anything else to your mom.
“Did you tell him?” Chae put one hand on your cheek while looking at Minju, “I think we should tell him in our apartment”, Minju follows suit, trapping you between them. “There is no we, and you're not part of the apartment”, Chae scoffed, “Just stop doing that will you?” Minju and Chae exchange a heated glare before they continue walking, dragging you along with them. It feels like this apartment is just a coffin for you. In just two days years of memories are washed away and replaced by depressing experiences. The two sat you down at your bed, or perhaps from now on it's also their bed.
“Alright, who goes first?” Chae said to Minju, “Oh? Thank you for asking, why don't you go first?” You can't really tell if the two of them are being polite or just trying to piss the other off. “Well, babe, we have come to a conclusion. I think our fights are hurting you, and we don't like that. We never meant to hurt you pup”, Their touch, it's no longer warm and inviting like it used to, now everytime they touch you your body just starts to wince and shiver in fear. “We mean it, we love you babe more than anything”, The two hold your face together, making sure you can't look away from their crazed eyes. “We love you, and we know that forcing you to choose one of us would be too much for you”, Their other hand starts to caress your body, hoping they can arouse you for another round.
“So we decided that a truce is needed. We'll tolerate each other, as long as you're happy, we're happy”, Say no, say this isn't the happy ending you wanted. Say something goddamnit. “That's right pup, I know you can never say no. Even if I manage to get you to choose me you're just gonna get all broody and stuff for hurting this girl”, There's still some animosity between them, “If I manage to get you then you're also gonna get all depressed for hurting this close friend of yours. So I propose to her a simple truce, and we'll see how it goes from here”, Don't make any mistake. If you do this thing, it's gonna blow up right on your face.
“But, why?” You cautiously ask, “Because you are too scared to make a choice”, Did you near that? Did you fucking hear that? “I-i-i-i-i-” You just stutter like an idiot. “I think it's a bad trait of yours, however I decided to love you, because the universe makes me fall for you babe. So I'll love you regardless of your imperfections” Is this lucky or unlucky? “But, why me? Why are you two going this far for me?” You struggle to understand their point of view. “Haaaa, you're so stupid sometimes pup” Chae grabs your cheek, her eyes filled with playfulness, “Don't insult our boyfriend, but she's right babe, sometimes you're just so clueless” Minju's finger gently draw around your chest.
“Minju please” You know what she wants, you can see it in her eyes, “Come on babe, I know you can squeeze out one more round” It was less of a request and more of a demand. “No please, I'm still dying here” Once again you curse yourself for not having the spine to stand up to them. You pathetically try to flail around as Chaewon and Minju start to undress you. “See? Just one round babe, to seal the deal with this new arrangement” Minju smiles as she pulls down your pants and sees your half erect cock. “Hey, if we drain him he won't run away again” Chae smiles and unbutton your shirt, “Girls please” You try to plead, “Ssshhhh, just let it happen” Chae whispers in your ear.
Minju gently kisses around your balls trying to get you hard while Chaewon shoves her tits into your face, but you were too tired. “It's not working, ugghhh, seems like you need a little more stimulation babe” Chae and Minju exchange a glance before they start working. “What-” You tell as you feel Chae plays around your nipple, “It's my turn to now pup” She smiles. Minju on the other hand starts rimming you, sending her tongue to slither into your hole and hungrily make out with it. It works, the stimulation immediately sends your cock into its prime form.
“I always knew you'll like this babe” Minju smiles before she goes back to rimming you, her hand starts stroking your cock while her eyes are staring at you. Chae moves to sit behind you, pulling your face down to be smothered by her tits while her hands are just teasing your nipples.
This feels, wrong. You're not one to kinkshame but this whole situation makes you feel like you're just being used. Like you're just some kind of a toy for them to play with. “Stop it please”, You whimpered but the two of them just smiled because in their eyes you're just too cute when you are like this. “Are you gonna switch or what?” Chae says, Minju sends her a disapproving look before pulling away and nods. Chae lets you go and crawl beneath you, taking Minju's place. Minju decides that she needs to take this further. Pulling your head down to rest between her thighs before she squeezes you with them.
“I know you're such a sub, do my thighs feel good babe? I see that you have a certain type with girls” She smiles at you before eyeing Chaewon, Chae nods agreeing but then she just focuses back on making out with your hole. Her slender hands grab your legs and spread them apart, trying to push her face deeper into you. “Jeez Chae really like that huh? Let me pick up her slacks then” Minju stop squeezing your face because she needs her leg to love around as she gave you a footjob.
“Fuck, please stop this” Maybe in a different time this would feels heavenly for you. However right now every single stimulation and touch feels like hell. Your body is burning up and your cock is dying already. “Awwww, we can't let you get blue balls babe, you're so close to finishing after all. Here let me help make this quick” Minju crawl on top of you before she takes your cock into her mouth. Chaewon also stops rimming you and just teases your balls, lightly biting on it and sucking it around.
It took roughly 30 seconds before you feel your ejaculation is due, Chaewon and Minju also feel it. They work together to kiss and lick around your cock as the last drop of your sperm spurt out. “Awwww, I guess he really is too tired huh” You can hear Chae whines, “Well if you don't want to I'll gladly take them” Minju said.
The two exchange a look before they start cleaning out the cum from your cock. While you were laying there on your bed, completely out of it the two had a heated exchange. You completely miss the beautiful view of them licking each other's face trying to clean every last drop of your cum. “You're enjoying this aren't you?” Minju smiles seeing Chaewon’s face, “Hey I'm only doing this because pup tastes nice” Chaewon frowns. “He does, shame that we're gonna have to let him rest for now” Minju sighs and gives your cock one last kiss, “This is so addicting, but I'll try to calm down for now. Hopefully as time goes on pup gonna build up his stamina” Chae also kisses your cock before the two move to snuggle with you.
“Sorry pup, we just want a little celebration for our new arrangement” Chae smiles seeing your exhausted face, “That's right, we promise we'll play nice from now on’ Minju laughs as well. “I…….” Goddamn you're actually dying aren't you? “Also before we go and meet your mom today we pick up something” Chae took something out of the box on the bedside table. It was a handcuff, rather two handcuffs, “We don't like it when you run away like that babe” Minju pinch your ear, “And you did it to me twice already. So I'm not taking any chances” Chae put one on her hand and yours before handing the other one to Minju, “This might be a little uncomfortable babe, but we're sure we can get used to it soon” Minju also did the same with your other hand.
There is absolutely no more doubt, you are their prisoner from now on. Kinda funny that you ran away from Chae to break free from your chain to her. Now you come back and turn your you never did break free, and you got another chain on you. “Good night pup, I'm sure everything will turn for the better from now on” Chae kisses your cheek before snuggling to you, “I think so too, we'll take care of you babe, good night” Minju does the same thing. As the two slowly drift off to sleep a single tear falls down your eyes.
I'm so fucking pathetic.
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My Analysis on Count Ymir and Metyr
This is my personal analysis on the lore and plot as a whole, Carians vs other sorcerers, an Ymir character study, a Metyr study, and my take on it in regards to gender and deeper themes and motifs. (From a positive lens)
Blue is for things added later: last updated 8/20
I've made a post on sorcerers and their downfalls prior to this and it is still extremely important to look at the differences between sorcerers who go too far like Sellen, Azur, Lusat, and graven masses as a whole vs Ymir. Because Ymir is most closely related to Rennala, literally and narratively. They are both Carians and experience "corruption" via a similar outlet.
Sellen, and the others who looked into the primeval current, only craved knowledge. They were far more detached from the beauty and divinity of everything around them and aimed to know too much. Graven masses are students who go too far. Even Thopps somehow dies from studying too hard. This happens because of their own actions. We don't kill or fight them.
There's one thing that is consistent with all Carians. Their downfall is their hearts. Ranni makes this so clear with her poorly veiled attempts at avoiding attachment with our tarnished. She tells us to tell Blaidd and Iji how much she loves them. She is detached because she knows she must be but she is terrible at hiding that she still has a heart. Rennala was consumed with grief and loss after the golden order presumably caused her and Marika (Radagon) to miscarry as well as forcing the love of her life away from her. She also loses all of her children to their own ambitions (they move out and do their own thing) Regardless, she is a husk because of love. Rellana abandoned her home to chase after love which was likely unrequited and still she forged swords of matrimony that she wields alone until her death, ever loyal to protecting the man she fell for. Rennala understood Relanna was chasing what her heart desired and sanctioned it. This is just a known fact about Carians. They get it. Their downfall is not knowledge but succumbing to love.
We know that prior to his involvement with finger sorceries Ymir was far more of a romantic than other sorcerers. Beloved Stardust's description is from a recitation he gave as a teacher to the Carians and it states that "One need only envision the romance of the stars above with adoration for stardust in one's heart to become a greater sorcerer. Do so, and you will know love."
He tells us it's only natural to want power and the truth but to no extent is this like Sellen's quest. He is not asking us to enable him like she is. Yes, he moved on from his studying of the moon, but it was not the same way she did. She wants to unravel it all and lay it bare, pick it apart. She is also driven to understand the elden ring which is very golden order centric. (want to be clear. I love Sellen)
She wants to dissect the life in the stars. Ymir wants to appreciate it's beauty. It is a clear clinical vs whimsical, both to negative extent. Sellian vs Carian.
We have no way of knowing his history in the lands between. He looks extremely similar to the figure on the Carian inverted statue and also has ties to Miriam, but that's all we can know for a fact. We also know for a fact that there are fingercreepers in both the gardens of Caria Manor and the flipped elevator of the Carian Study Hall.
I saw someone suggest recently that these were here as original assassins of the greater will to thwart Ranni back when the Greater Will still spoke to Metyr. I do like this. I believe the fingers were there for a very long time trying to accomplish something. Further I would suggest this is where Ymir first began to question them as he was no doubt in at least one of these Carian locations pre move to the Lands of Shadow.
We also don't know his early history in the lands of shadow aside from him teaching Rellana which he likely also did in the Lands Between. It seems clear Rellana brought a few Carians with her (the handful of white robed sorcerers, Moonthryll, and her teacher Ymir)
But we can come to two possible ideas from Manus Metyr and both give us a similar end point.
A. he had his own family and a child named Yuri who died very young and was buried in the graveyard, perhaps the only family he brought with him when he left everything and moved there.
B. Yuri was always just the fingercreeper and the fact that we can read the grave pre-quest is A an error. (odd but still completely possible) Or B this implies he has been continuously trying to birth the same fingercreeper over and over. The original fingercreeper child, Yuri, that he came to love dearly that never lived long being the main grave and the others all potentially being the additional failed attempts
Later on, during his research into the fingercreepers/two fingers he learns everything he knows in present day Elden Ring, becoming a high priest of Metyr and learning many of her spells. It is also during this time that he seems to beg Metyr/The Greater Will, to allow himself to birth fingers of his own.
This can be interpreted two ways as well. And we'll go in order from our last A and Bs.
A. He loses his only child in the land of shadow and is aware of Metyrs abilities. The GW (Or Metyr?) takes pity on him and shares power with him, allowing him to birth the fingercreeper Yuri. It is up for interpretation whether Yuri actually has the soul of his lost child in it or if Ymir is just so thankful for this new child that he projects his dead son onto him. I don't think there's any emotional distinction here.
B. He wishes to become the new envoy of the greater will from the start and is given one singular child, or just one child who lives, again, likely out of the desire for connection, pity, or perhaps pettiness of Metyr. (i'll come back to this in terms of Metyr giving him power). Through this he inevitably comes to love Yuri because obviously he is going to love his first child more than life itself.
As i said, the end point is the same. He is a Carian. He loves too fiercely. His original goals are pushed aside by the love he has for Yuri. In private he only talks about Yuri. He doesn't muse on and on about clinical knowledge or his desire to replace a god. He does not speak with any hint of madness, just utter devotion that I could see being seen as unhealthy. (i don't interpret it this way at this point but i get it. Just remember he is someone who is nearly completely alone in the land of shadow who has potentially experienced loss of severe magnitude before)
I also think that what we overhear at Yuri's grave sounds completely normal for grief. He wishes to be left alone and when he talks to Yuri he talks about only wanting to be his mother. He laments failing and promises to try again for him. This also lends to the idea that he believes there is a singular soul being moved around.
He only talks about Yuri. He isn't talking about replacing Metry and these are his most private thoughts.
I have seen theories that suggest he did not birth Yuri himself and perhaps stole him. His dialogue in private heavily implies he birthed him himself. As well as his unaltered robes which say they conceal an abundance of squirming beneath. So he had those fingers under there the whole time, definitely not as large and efficient as the ones during his boss fight, but they were there... and they were functioning.
I also don't think he ever comes off as this delusional? that might just be me but everything he says and everything Jolán says about him contradicts this. If there's any delusion it's the denial that comes with grief where he could believe his child's soul is in the baby fingercreeper.
But back to his quest- when we meet him he knows that the fingers that told Marika what to do were corrupt because Metyr is corrupt. He is exclusively blaming Metyr for this source of sickness. (this is an instance of him being a not fully educated narrator. He is slightly right, but needs to go further, a further we only learn from item descriptions where we learn the GW no longer wants a finger mother* i'll get back to this. But also THIS IS SO IMPORTANT WE LITERALLY LEARN THAT THE LANDS BETWEEN LOST THE PLOT AND THE FINGERS AND ANY ENDING THAT FOLLOWS THEM IS WRONG)
I believe at this point he thinks he birthed Yuri through the powers of the greater will and himself exclusively. I don't think he believes Metyr was involved because he knows Metyr is sick. He thinks the GW still wants a finger mother to send new messages.
We do his quest, we bind ourselves to our fate in the stars and of course that fate leads us to slay another remembrance boss. We need to clean up all the failed ideas of the GW so they aren't sticking around and causing trouble. Classic tarnished shit. iykyk.
EDIT: there is dialogue I missed and it seems dialogue a lot of people missed. If you talk to him after fighting Anna but before Metyr he asks you if you saw something down there, referring to Metyr. He tells you to remove it and any misconceptions from your mind lest it bring woe upon the both of you. (This is paraphrasing I don't completely remember the exact wording rn but it's essentially this). He doesn't want you to mess with Metyr. He has his own plans. He knows something bad will happen and he tells you to forget about her.
So why is Ymir hurt by you fighting Metyr even though the quest lead you hear? Irreparably hurt even? (1 and 2 can exist together still. they are not exclusively one or the other)
He had pushed aside this loftier goal and was still grieving for Yuri and only wanted to be his mother. The mother of one child. (To me that feels like it isn't taking it far enough. I do think he firmly believes he can do it better still. He hasn't realized the full truth. I just don't think this is at the forefront of his mind at this moment. He still wants to be The mother. His high opinion of himself makes it clear he believes he can do this)
He did not know that the GW had no need for Metyr any longer and that she had been broken and abandoned. He merely thought she was corrupted. So when he is possessed BY Metyr this is awful. He wanted to be a new mother. Not the same one.
GOES WITH MY PREVIOUS ADD ON: he may be aware he is using Metyr as a power source and believes killing her will affect him negatively. It is unclear if he knows the type or extent. Perhaps believing it will take away his power or perhaps aware it could be too much for him. He is also learning from her, so her untimely death would also be bad simply for this reason.
Okay now it's time for me to talk about Metyr in greater detail
The Staff of the Great Beyond says Metyr was broken and abandoned but still kept waiting for messages. This is also what the spell fleeting microcosm says which is likely referring to both Ymir and Metyr at this point since it is a spell that can be purchased from him as well as one Metyr uses, going on to say "The broken and discarded are fully willing to cling to fleeting simulacra, earning them some modicum of sympathy" He is a clearly broken person who thought he was grasping the GW's truth but wasn't and Metyr was clinging to her old life hoping for it to come back and for her to have purpose again despite being abandoned by her own mother. Metyr is unique and incredibly complicated which is interesting because her closest equivalent is the Elden Beast and other falling stars. Her items make it clear she had complex feelings- anger, grief, loneliness, resentment, loyalty. She WAS the magnificent gleaming daughter of the Greater Will. She was once loved and she knows that. Her other remembrance weapon is called Gazing Finger, but it's the name of its move that tells us the most about her. Kowtower's Resentment. She showed unwavering respect to the GW but she grew to resent it. We learn so much about her that only further ties into the overall themes of motherhood in Elden Ring. Imagine how Metyr must feel. Aside from the brewing hate inside her caused by the GW directly TOO her she is also forced to watch her children either grow increasingly more and more corrupt over time or slain. She knows her children aren't going into the world to be loved any longer. She knows she's sending them off to a terrible fate and still she must do it. Her children are purposeless. When we tie our fate to the stars- the great cosmic will- the new plan, it brings us there and it prompts us to kill Metyr and clean up its loose ends. But instead of letting herself be killed outright or leaving the lands between/shadow, she goes somewhere else because she is angry. She wants to be loved and needed. She is desperate to receive messages again. She wants to prove herself. We can say for certain that it is Metyr that possess Ymir in our fight because the GW has no desire to make a new mother of fingers and Metyr had already been lending him her power. There is only one and we clearly don't kill all of her at first. Is this her last effort to best the GW or merely her defiance to continue on living? Waiting to be of use again? Alas, we kill Ymir as well. ALSO- just mentioned Metyr to my wife and she said "Yeah Metyr is so similar to Messmer" and I literally said OH FUCK. YEAH! So let's touch on that: Both of them are abandoned by their mother, trapped somewhere, enacting her original design, spreading her original message all while never hearing from her ever again and still remaining fiercely loyal to the end.
Now back to Ymir and Metyr
Was Metyr sharing her powers with him out of loneliness or spite or simply curiosity?
It's definitely something that's up for personal interpretation because I don't believe these are spells just anyone can use or learn. The simple glintstone nail spells even say Ymir thinks they are "child's play" but fleeting microcosm and Cherishiny fingers are very different. The nail spells are ones others may be able to learn but the other two are unique to finger mothers. Also the act of birthing fingers is not a spell. It's Metyrs own unique ability and purpose- so clearly Metyrs power directly from her.
Did she long to be understood? To share what she was going through with someone else? Was she trying to show him that it wasn't her that was broken?
Did she resent him for blaming her and studying her? Or did she herself think she was to blame? Did she share her grief with him out of spite? Making him too experience loss via Yuri?
Or did she also have a bit of hope that maybe through a new vessel she would be seen again by the GW? Maybe her children wouldn't be cursed.
She certainly shared quite a lot with Ymir for it to be out of spite and their items and spells mimicking each other in descriptions really makes it feel like she wanted him to understand her. Both of their staffs show a microcosm but receive no answer. She lets him birth her children.
And Yuri is clearly aware of this. He's likely never seen Metyr but still has nightmares about her. Ymir telling him to "put that tangled mess out of his mind" He's torn quite literally about his origins. Ymir is his mother but Metyr is a presence he is aware of and in unfamiliar with to the point of fear. Perhaps this is what brings about his early death- that incomplete or splintered origin.
On to Ymir boss fight speculation/ theory
We have our ideas on why Ymir was hurt and upset by us fighting Metyr. Him taking on her corruption and learning GW truths as well as his own grief already being too forefront. But I wonder if when Metyr possessed Ymir he took on her grief and loneliness as well. Would he be able to cope with her literal cosmic scale of loss and heartache? Being misunderstood? Being abandoned by her own mother? I think it's a really interesting foil to have Sellen and co. destroyed and driven to insanity by knowledge and Ymir driven to insanity by grief and love. It makes the tear streaked makeup on his boss model hit a lot harder that way and feel far more intentional as tears which is what the dripping black really evokes (despite is being part of the tattoo category of character creation which is definitely just character creator limitation)
When we fight Ymir he also has a really effective voice inflection change as well. Props to his voice actor for almost making him sound completely different and just gone.
But yeah it feels clear that his fight is the built up madness of both him and Metyr's greatest desires manifested. They're consumed by loss and anger and a desire to be wanted and seen in the eyes of the greater will. They both want to receive messages and be The Mother.
Then we get his normal voice when we kill him where all he can think of is Yuri again and wanting to be his mother. He isn't thinking about being THE mother. Literally just Yuri. What is most important to him. The true Ymir. And of course, it's similar to Rennala's true voice coming through when we beat her, speaking about her beloved daughter, just HER daughter, not the sweetings.
I truly don't think he was as insane or gone as people think he was in nearly the entirety of his quest. and I honestly just think people default to saying "oh he's insane and delusional and freaky" because he is a "man" who is a mother.
okay thank god i can finally get into the gender of all this.
What do we know about Ymir in regards to gender?
Names are intentionally chosen in fromsoft games. Ymir was a norse giant who, though using masculine pronouns, was considered neither male nor female because he could birth children of his own.
He is named after an agender mythological figure who also has a moon named after him.
So we can read into Ymir being agender. He uses masculine pronouns, wears headwear that is strictly feminine, very neutral royal attire (we don't know enough about Carian clothing to have an opinion on the robe, gloves, or pants), a little makeup, and has no hang ups on being able to be a mother.
I, as someone who is nonbinary, have my own unique connection to him as a character that makes me really like this about him. In my brain gender means nothing which separates me from my trans wife where gender and expression mean everything. I have never had a mental connection to gender. I have presented many ways in my life since coming out. My outward appearance does not dictate my relationship to gender nor what I can do. In fact I think about gender very little.
Motherhood not being synonymous with female pronouns here is cool to me as well. it is nice gender non-essentialism.
But if we get into Elden Ring as being about women and the feminine divine as a whole, we can also read into him differently.
I've seen many people tag him as being trans to them! And I like that just as much.
He studies the fingers which are exclusively ruled by women. Metyr is their mother, finger readers are all women, then of course finger maidens. Even further, Metyr is a daughter of the GW. He says we ALL are her children. The GW is the original mother of all things. The creator of all life because she created stardust and to study the stars is to study the life in all things. Nearly all societies in ER are led by women. There is an innate power in womanhood in ER.
He gazed into the stars with adoration in his heart and knew true love. He felt loved amidst that divinity and sought to follow that path for himself. He embraced something that meant everything to him body and soul. He underwent true physical change for it. And with Yuri he was happy.
And of course, as all soulsborne games, it has to be tragic for us to see beauty in it, so he, just like nearly everyone else we know, faces a terrible end because of the fate of our tarnished and the GW's goal. He isn't a villain because he has a unique relationship with gender and it is kinda wild i've seen someone say that.
My additional thought on this is that it feels unnecessarily detailed for his robe description to talk about the ruff that "sparkles like a flower wet with dew" We really only get two other characters specifically connected to flowers and that's Malenia and St.Trina. Both are related to feminine identity, divinity, and true self. Malenia becoming the Scarlet Aeonia, her true form as a goddess, and St. Trina literally being the woman Miquella was meant to become. A literal transition could have saved her narrative.
So yes, I can absolutely see people interpreting Ymir through a trans woman lens as well. I love that different people can identify with this character differently and see parts of themself here and if other people have different takes on this character's gender identity and it making them feel represented, that's great! I just can only talk on my personal take and the discussion i had about him with my wife.
Can I see why people wouldn't like him? Yeah, so long as it isn't based on a lack of knowledge of the plot, items, and dialogue, or based on extreme pre-existing biases. Because I have seen a bad take or two that boil down to this kind of misinformation which is really frustrating.
There is no evidence in the text that he is a bad person. Jolán respects and cares for him immensely. She doesn't reveal to us any actual feelings about Anna and this is all very vague. Yes Anna is a puppet but Nox are the only people we know of that did willingly become puppets. She is also a recusant which is interesting as well. Most invaders are just invaders. Recusants specifically are invaders with a job (recusant fingers only come from Rykard but are snake scaled so potentially also Eiglay? Base Serpent? She may have just served another master). There may also be a reason for this due to game function alone or there may be the narrative reason. We really can't know much about them as they are side, side characters. But them being Nox i think is telling. He was also clearly a very respected Carian sorcerer and was a teacher to Rellana. Textually, he is never portrayed negatively by others nor in his items.
Here are some final add-ons
that i don't want to complicate my earlier jumble with that whether important or not, are worth seeing. I just didn't know where to add them. Also I do not have a final interpretation of these things in the greater context:
An item I would like to touch on as well as an item that goes hand in hand with it (pun intended) is the spell Cherishing Fingers as well as Fingercreeper Ashes. Cherishing Fingers says "The dear fingers look after their mother, or perhaps that is merely what the mother wishes to believe." but Fingercreeper ashes says " They are ever so fond of their mothers at this tender age"
These two items kind of contradict each other, implying the fingers DO care about their mother. But the intentional doubt is interesting. Fingercreeper ashes, as well as Yuri being in his arms really makes it feel like they do care, but perhaps as they grow older they don't? Or this can help drive a "delusional" narrative. But fingercreeper ashes really make it seem like it goes both ways.
Also, Why are the ruins (Miyr) beneath Manus Metyr just an anagram for Ymir? Did he name them that? Did he name himself Ymir? Is it a cool coincidence that he pogged at when he found out? Is it just a random world building choice? This I literally cannot interpret.
I thought of the name change thing and that lead me to investigate every single rise on both maps to see if one could have been his but nothing seems likely. but on to Rabbath's rise
Anna's puppet body is there. Rabbath is a known sorcerer who was a spellmachinist. Being a machinist is very anti everything Ymir does and is into. Is Rabbath the person who designed the marionettes? That is a loose end we don't know the answer to and being a machinist is telling but this is extreme speculation. I saw someone suggest he and Ymir may have been either friends or rivals- both could give potential case for Ymir's puppet being there. Again. JUST speculative interpretations of this because we also do not know enough about Anna either. Rabbath also, like many other Rise owners, doesn't appear to be dead. Some Rises have a gravenmass in them which feels clear was the original owner. But Rabbaths is empty and something different about Rabbath's rise in comparison to most others is that all the candles in his rise are out. I don't know what this means. Why is Anna in a part of his rise that is nearly inaccessible? To me this makes it seem like she’s exclusively there to be kept safe as this place can only be accessed by us on torrent… literally no one else.
I'd like to add some additional, after the fact, thoughts and observations I have no place for as well
In terms of Jolán I’m confident her loyalty to Ymir stems from the Nox’s belief that one day their lord of night will come to them, bringing with them the age of stars and the fate that the Nox had been stripped of after their banishment. She refers to Ymir as her shining star and after he is gone she only sees darkness. I could very well see her believing Ymir is the promised lord of night as he so heavily believes in the fate of the stars and brings stars to her life personally.
But by all accounts the Nox hate the GW and were the ones who created a blade to slay its vassals, which Metyr is one of. Perhaps this is where Jolan and Anna disagreed. Perhaps this is why she is a puppet now. Anna may have stayed true to their beliefs where Jolan instead saw the promised liege and pledged her service to him. Again, anything with Anna is still speculation but it would make sense if she and Anna and the other swordhands of night were initially there for a reason as they are the only Nox in the lands of Shadow and wear fingerprint armor independent of their connection to Ymir. Perhaps the fingerslayer blade was made for Metyr, the source of the GWs words. Perhaps this is the cause of the injury on Metyrs chest. This is something I could get far too into speculation on though. But it is interesting to speculate on as the location of her injury is not somewhere she would have fingers, so likely not Ymir’s doing, and is also a real “going for the kill” location. Again, chew on this one as you will.
Cherishing Fingers: I thought about this A LOT and I wish it was easy for me to fit it into the upper main post. Cherishing Fingers is "one of Ymir's spells" so why isn't it in his bell bearing? We get it not when he dies but after. It isn't dropped with his death loot and it only shows up after we rest and it doesn't show up on his body it shows up at Yuri's grave. And I know you could say "Well characters like Rogiers items are gotten from where we last saw him sitting even though he's gone) but we already got all of Ymir's things. Literally 6 items worth of loot. This is intentionally somewhere else. So two theories. This is not Ymir's final item given to us but Yuris. The fingers no longer have to protect their mother and are no longer trapped in rebirth so they leave behind a spell after they too finally pass on. Theory 2, Ymir, after our fight, chooses to die by Yuri's side, at his child's grave, leaving behind a final spell to remember him by. Regardless there is a reason this spell is separate and special. It's description that can sew doubt, to me, is negated by the positive description on the fingercreeper ashes that confirm they do love their mother. This also being found at a fingercreepers grave is also very telling.
The caged fingercreepers: if you look close and really work your camera, there are a handful of cages only near Ymir's throne that have fingercreepers in them. Are they still alive? Are they in there for their safety or because Ymir thinks differently of them/they aren't as important to him as Yuri? I do not have a final interpretation of this but it's important to note here. I have my wide reaching headcanon about this of course but it isn't something I'm confident presenting the way I present these interpretations.
Ymir’s neck ruff: this is only coming up because I’m writing a full over the top clothing analysis for him, but this one is connected to the lore, not the independent character design choices and it’s actually quite interesting. Aside from its description as a flower, which I mentioned in my gender portion, it also uses the word dew, something that has a specific and loaded meaning in ER and there are a lot of important Dew items. The new item dewgem, being connected to sprites, the dewkissed herba and Celestial Dew from the eternal cities, and Blessed Dew and the icon shield depicting erdtree boons and a divine age. Because dewgem is very hornsent adjacent I'm more inclined to connect it to the latter two types and I think I'd like to connect it to them both at once instead of picking but feel free to side with either. I'm just telling you how I feel. The allusion to celestial dew and glowing like a star, mentioning fate in the night sky, and being the dew of absolution is all interesting and this would be one additional connection to Joláns adoration to him, seeing the resemblance and iconography of her stars on his person. Creating familiarity. His mentioning of redemption and desire to break the cycle of corrupt messages also ties well into the idea of absolution and new beginnings. He is obviously tied to the stars, but the ruff is gold much like the blessed dew items which are described as divine, depicting ideas of eternal prosperity and blessings which paint dew as a concept as something extremely symbolic and sacred. Dew in both forms represent a new age and gifts of that age- one being absolution and fate, the other prosperity and divinity. Ymir believes in all of these things. Unlike the Nox he values the Greater Wills goals and words. He wishes to help bring about a new age, guided by the stars, via the Greater Wills untainted words. So the connection to blessed dew wouldn't be "erdtree good" but moreso how dew was viewed during that time and to those who believed in it. It seems more like a nod to the prosperity possible in a new age with roots that are not tainted and mad. A motif intentionally conveying similar ideas that others already have positive connection to. (You thought that erdtree was good? Imagine a tree that isn't corrupt)
OKAY ANYWAYS THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!! If anyone stuck around for the whole thing I will be truly baffled but thank you if you did! Love Ymir with all my heart! if there are any typos or repetition please understand i really just kept going train of thought style here and its a lot to reread 4 times over to keep double checking as every time i got sidetracked.
#I'm adding a tag that YES you are allowed to link to this or share it with credit!!!#elden ring#elden ring shadow of the erdtree#count ymir#elden ring dlc#shadow of the erdtree#elden ring spoilers#elden ring lore#elden ring sote#sote#my work#messmer the impaler#metyr mother of fingers#manus metyr#swordhand of night jolán#malenia blade of miquella#malenia goddess of rot#st. trina#st trina#miquella the unalloyed#sote spoilers#am i the number one count Ymir defender????#maybe so
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