#I have more to say on this topic but I am going to save it for another post since this already got out of hand

[raayllum]

Why Callum Made His Choice (7x02)

Or choices, and why I think each of them were a long time coming. The according choices down below:

Defending Runaan

Betraying his brother

Leaving with Rayla

Resigning as High Mage

Let's go, because sections of this have been sitting in my drafts since the season aired because I thought it'd be fun, but now it's been long enough that now there's Dreaded Discourse (???) over the topic; this meta is not mean to be a rebuttal to any version of critique of events, merely an explanation behind Callum's actions/characterization, and why he did like... absolutely everything in the exact manner I'd always thought ahead of time that he would with his reasonings, processing, framing, and actions. Okay? Okay.

Just a warning: this got really long, do not read it in one sitting, there are sections for a reason. Or if you are, grab a snack and a drink first. Stay hydrated.

Okay now we can go.

Why does Callum defend Runaan?

This one is, I think, the simplest to answer in some ways, purely because 3x06 gave us the answer a long time ago.

I hate him. He's the one who took my mother. Looking at him, seeing him... It makes me sad, and angry, and... confused. See that spear? It was her spear, my mom's, and my stepdad put it into his heart. How am I supposed to feel about that? Glad? Happy that we got revenge? Or maybe regretful, and sad, because... Because that was Zym's dad. I feel so sorry that this all happened.

Callum is a deeply relational person. He aligns himself with Rayla in 1x03 because of Ezran and then trusts her because she's willing to lose a hand for his little brother. He does dark magic to save Rayla and free the dragon because he knows she won't leave without it. He forgives and works/trusts Soren in 3x08 because the man helped save his little brother. While Runaan's bow initially throws him, it ultimately does not matter to him because that's Rayla's dad and she loves him, and that's enough for Callum. His extreme relational viewpoint is also why he's so loyal to Ezran and to Rayla, and why crossing/putting either of them at risk (hi Viren, hi Claudia) cause those relationships to continually and rapidly deteriorate without looking back.

Callum has also had practice with Avizandum and Zubeia. As he points out to Ezran:

You forgave Zubeia. Who did you think gave the order for Runaan to kill Dad? But somehow you got past that. You forgave her, because everything was complicated. Humans, dragons, elves. We've all made mistakes. That doesn't mean we have to keep making them.

Callum also cares a lot about fairness. At first, he defends Runaan because he's being blamed, in Callum's eyes, for something he didn't directly do (destroying Katolis). Then they discuss things more directly, and Callum says the above. And while Ezran isn't wrong that killing Harrow would be enough on its own, I think we can clearly see that Ezran's anger and despair at feeling wildly out of control needs somewhere to go. He's not angry at Runaan solely because of the destruction of Katolis, but the destruction of his home is absolutely a contributing factor.

He wanted to kill/destroy Sol Regem in order to let out anger and exert control, but couldn't because the dragon was already dead. He was so focused on forgiving Zubeia and putting his feelings aside regarding Avizandum ("Everything Avizandum did was to protect Xadia" including murdering your mother) that the majority of his anger got channeled at a safer target: the assassin who directly did the deed (because Rayla defected, and Zubeia changed her mind). Who was already dead.

Basically: Callum points out that Ezran is holding Runaan uniquely responsible, and in a way that isn't particularly helpful or in line with Ezran's previous values: "This is exactly the cycle of violence you worked so hard to end." The cycle they both worked to end. If Callum had any complicated feelings about Runaan (as indicated in TTM) or about Zubeia / Avizandum, he worked through them a while ago, and given that Ez had done the same for 2/3, it's not an unreasonable expectation that Ezran would do the same. Harrow was Callum's dad too, after all.

Furthermore, Ezran is so angry that, according to Callum (who in many ways knows Ezran best), he isn't himself right now, either. Punishing Runaan by imprisoning him is not what Harrow would want and only serves to exacerbate Ezran's own worsening mental state and Rayla's to boot.

It's also not like Callum says that what Runaan did was okay, but that the situation was complicated, and Callum has faith that Ezran will do the right thing eventually in letting Runaan go. Literally, Callum just wants the man to not die and for Rayla's family to be together again because they can be. Especially in 7x02. He's not going to let Runaan die (because it'd hurt Rayla) anymore than he'd let Zym (because it'd hurt Ezran).

This is especially true given that the first shows of loyalty Rayla ever displayed towards either of them was 1) turning on her family (father) in order to protect him and Ezran, and 2) offering to fight against her family/people in order to save Harrow when she had literally only known these boys for a few hours, AND Callum's statement from 2x07 of "If we really want to change things, we can't just keep watching while humans and Xadia hurt each other." (More on 2x07 and 7x02 parallels here.)

If Callum (and Ezran) had chosen in 1x03 the way Ez is choosing in 7x02, they never would've left to return Zym to Xadia, period. After all, "why is there any moral confusion at all" about reuniting a family, a parent and child and allowing them to live their lives, when the parent has committed such terrible acts that took your father away from you? Kids shouldn't have to pay for "the choices their father made" (3x02) but "a life for a life"—one dead and one in jail forever while the person who ordered him to never faced any of your ire—is just "justice" after all.

That said, the slightly thornier decision (especially to Callum emotionally), I think, is his choice to betray Ezran as a result of defending Runaan, so let's get into it.

Betraying his brother

While on a certain level betraying Ezran means siding with Rayla, I do think that's a simplification. It's one both Ezran and Rayla tug at ("So you're on Ezran's side now" / "High Mage. We need you at this council meeting") with poor Callum in the middle, but I don't think it's a good reflection of the situation on either end because it's too simple, and both Ez and Rayla's framing/judgements are heavily clouded at first by their emotions.

I think Callum coming to bail Rayla and Runaan out, and offering to help her on the bridge, is far less about choosing sides as it is about Callum's fixer tendencies, which I've discussed before (in Nov 2021, christ it's been a while).

He is very solution oriented, sometimes to the point of obsession (leaping after Ezran in 1x06 and 4x01; forgetting Sol Regem is there in 3x01 in running to Rayla) and his anger most commonly comes out directed at the person he perceives as being an obstacle to Fixing the problem for himself/his friends. This fixer tendency is is also why he's such a caring considerate guy most of the time, manifesting in his desire to nurture and care for those around him, and closely tied to his pursuit of magic (so he can have agency/the ability to help).

He's devoted himself since learning about the coins to giving Rayla back her family, regardless of who that family includes, and regardless of what else is on the line. We see this repeatedly in 5x04 wherein he risks all of their lives to stay at the Great Bookery because once he gets fixated on finding a solution, he does not have an off switch, regardless — just like in 7x02 — of whether Rayla is asking him (never mind directly telling him not to) to help her.

Now, Runaan is trapped again, but it's not at Viren's hand (though Ezran, snapping at Soren to arrest someone despite the crownguard's hesitation, and his focus on security/power, isn't not acting like the former high mage) but his brother's. That's no good. And Rayla is more likely to fumble the bag without his help; this, plus the fact that Callum does agree with Rayla that Runaan deserves to be free, is why he willingly offers aid even before the situation escalates. It is also a parallel to Claudia ("You do anything for family." "It's too much to ask" "It's love" / "You don't have to ask. I would do anything for you") so no, I don't think it's meant to be entirely healthy either, because Callum's intensity often times gets people into more trouble, not less, but I digress.

As for the escalation itself: he can't just let get Rayla and Runaan on the boat, when the crownguard plus Soren and Corvus are actively chasing after them, and neither Rayla nor Runaan know sky/ocean magic or how to wield it, which is the only reason they get successfully away at all. He had to go with them to ensure their escape, for more reason than one.

But as stated: He is always going to pick the thing that gives him a solution to a Problem, and therefore pick the person with the problem that he thinks he can solve. And he tries, with Ezran to be clear, though more on that in a bit.

This fixer tendency is also why he's willing to repeatedly do dark magic, and why he's willing to sacrifice the simple quiet life that he wants if it means his loved ones get to live ("If you love them, Rayla, Ezran, all of them, you'll do anything to save them [...] It's not about you, is it?"). Rayla needed saving in 7x02, she was the one at physical risk, Ezran was not. Rayla was the one with an emotional problem Callum could easily solve (free Runaan = happy Rayla) and Ezran's was not (because it was more complicated).

And this is also why even once Ezran comes in with the Nova Blade in 7x09, presenting another way to defeat Aaravos, Callum is willing to through with doing dark magic even though he no longer needs to in the same manner, because if Ezran kills Aaravos, then:

AARAVOS: Your window is closing, dark mage. Act quickly, or the brave king and Dragon Prince will seal my fate, and set the world on fire. (7x09)

AARAVOS: Very soon, your brother will embrace dark magic to save those he loves. [...] I have seen it written in his eyes. (7x07)

This is also why he picks going to Ezran over trying to save Harrow in 1x03 ("I'm coming, Ezran!"—book 1 novelization), because he had no skills at the time to use to save Harrow, but he could get Ezran out safely.

He will always pick the person he can physically save, who needs saving in that moment, with whatever tools he has at his disposal, in whatever way he thinks is most likely to work. And no one comes above Rayla or Ezran to him. It's that simple.

Callum is also incredibly personal; he is rarely truly politically motivated. Ezran constructing the betrayal as "he betrayed all of Katolis" I can guarantee is not something that heavily factored into Callum's headspace as a concept, but he does frame it as a political betrayal (hence his resignation) rather than a personal one:

I'm sorry, Ezran. I can't be your High Mage anymore. But I'll always be your brother.

Whether that framing is correct is debatable, but given him and Ezran's talk at the end, I do think Callum comes to conceptualize/understand it as both. That said, Callum isn't the first one to disavow their 'brotherly' bond; in some ways, Ezran is, because he says that he needs his High Mage, not his brother. This is an important sticking point in some ways because Ezran and Karim are also being deliberately paralleled, and have been for seasons:

EZRAN: Sometimes it's hard, but when I struggle, I think about the people I love who are counting on me to do the right thing. Not the harsh thing, not the strong thing. The right thing. Do you love your sister, Prince Karim? KARIM: Wha-? I... Of course. She is leading our people down the wrong path, but she will always be my sister. EZRAN: Then you can still choose love. It's not too late. (6x07)

It's also worth noting that Ezran offers Karim and his people—blatant traitors to the crown of Lux Aurea and people who have tried to kill Janai multiple times—the option to "leave, and build your own future far away from here," which is what Runaan was planning to do befor he got arrested. That Ezran "looks into the face and hears the words of those he judges" (7x07) for Aaravos before he gives Runaan the same opportunity.

Furthermore, Karim is someone who completely disavows the personal to only focus on the political. His sister becomes a traitorous queen who he looks at only with contempt, despite stating "I love you sister, I always will"; his baby is not his child, but his heir. Ezran is not acting like himself/Callum's brother, but as his king, and that includes reaffirming/pulling rank ("I have to stop you. I'm sworn to King Ezran" / "Well, King Ezran, how determined are you to stop me?").

But Callum always treats Ezran like his brother, and does try to fix things, on Ezran's side. He goes to him in 7x02 and advocates for setting Runaan free and—as the person who first identifies the cycle in the series (1x02)—if Callum says something is perpetuating the cycle, he's probably 99% right. He is there to understand, accepts Ezran's anger, but also challenges it. It seems like maybe Callum is getting through to him (with Callum and Zym's framing being paralleled like, so incredibly on the nose) but then Runaan and Rayla are caught.

Ezran has the chance to do what Callum considers "the right thing" (and what Ezran does throughout all prior seasons) and let them go. He doesn't. Instead, he moves to arrest Runaan and Rayla and drag them back to the Banther Lodge by force... for what? Would that actually make him feel better? Or is it just giving him the means to feel control after feeling wildly out of control? He doesn't even go down to see Runaan at any point to see him suffer; he just wants to know Runaan is in jail and separated from his family.

Ezran is then also paralleled to Claudia further, specifically when Callum betrayed her by immobilizing her, because she didn't want her prisoner (the egg) to be taken and reunited with its family, either.

CLAUDIA: Callum, what are you doing? CALLUM: The right thing, I hope. I'm sorry Claudia. (1x03)

EZRAN: Callum, what are you doing? CALLUM: The right thing, I hope. (7x02)

Then Ezran threatens to kill him / risk killing him if Callum doesn't move out of the way, in an even more direct Janai-Karim and Soren-Claudia parallel. (Claudia's rage in the finale also lampshades this with Soren attempting it even less tbh, with "Were you really going to go through with it? Kill me, your sister? I could kill you both!"). The background guard lady even looks surprised after Ezran raises his hand, so the threat is more than apparent even to the characters within the setting.

AANYA: My next shot will be more than a warning.

But Ezran decides trying to kill/wrangle back Runaan is not worth killing or possibly his brother, and Callum reaffirms they are brothers and always will be, and leaves it at that.

This shift from political "king and high mage" to "we're brothers" is also directly stated/reaffirmed in their reconciliation scene as being the most important thing: "Because we're brothers." "Brothers," leaving whether Callum will be high mage again up in the air, but his place as Ezran's brother—and Ezran as his—is not. Callum is wiling to betray Ezran on one front, but refuses flat out to entirely relinquish the bond on any other. He hopes he's doing the right thing, and he hopes that even in doing so ("I know it was hard, but it was the right thing. You know that. I know you do") they can reconcile.

EZRAN: Callum. High Mage. We need you at this council meeting. (7x02)

CALLUM: It was okay to be angry, but I couldn't let the bad feelings stick. Because we were going to need each other. Because we're brothers. I still need you, Ezran. I know it's been a hard time, but I really hope— EZRAN: I need you, too. (7x09)

We also do see Callum support Ezran throughout both 7x01 and 7x02 (until he can't/won't)—embracing him (which Ez, in shock, does not return), following his orders to investigate with Corvus, explaining his side to Rayla, attending the entire meeting even after Rayla leaves, though he regrets it. What Callum is doing, therefore, is living in the moral confusion — the complicated nature of their complex lives of hurt and breaking the cycle — that Ezran is refusing to now that he's been set with a new challenge, willing to inflict pain on others because of the pain and loss Runaan had inflicted on him, and Callum knows this.

EZRAN: Violence, loss, pain. More violence. Stop! Stop. I just want to yell stop. But that’s not enough. It won’t work. I think about a positive vision, a faith we can all share, that we might build a future together in hope. A future where we can be safe with each other.  But… It’s not that easy or simple. Because people are still hurting and they are still angry. We can’t ignore that, or pretend it will go away. Somehow, we have to hold it all in our hearts at the same time. We have to acknowledge the weight of the pain and loss, but open up our eyes and allow ourselves to hope and maybe forgive and love again.

CALLUM: No, that's not what I'm saying. It's just... It's complicated. (7x02)

CALLUM: The three of us have been through a lot together. We'll get through this too... right? [...] Give Ezran a bit of time to process all this. [...] Ezran will do the right thing. He just needs a bit of time to get there. (7x02).

CALLUM: You forgave Zubeia. Who do you think ordered Runaan to kill Dad? But somehow, you got past that. You forgave her, because everything was complicated.

AARAVOS: Childhood innocence gives way to something complicated. (7x02) / I have seen generations of humans and elves accept the darkness that lurks in all of us beside the light. There is no black or white, only shades of gray. We must all carry complexity. (7x04)

CALLUM: Dear Ezran. A few days ago, I started writing you a letter about how sorry I am that I hurt you, about how sad I am that there's a rift between us, and about how certain I am that somehow we'll find a way to repair things. (7x07)

EZRAN: I'm going to forgive you. I don't know how, but I have to try. (7x09)

So yes, Callum betrays his brother to protect their father's killer — the same way Callum betrayed his friend to reunite the person who ordered the hit with her child; the same way Ezran defended the murderer and explicit murder of his mother — because that killer is person is your best friend's father.

REX IGNEOUS: Or is the Dragon King too busy picking fights with little humans at the border? That was always his favourite sport: stomping on ants and calling himself a conqueror.

EZRAN: Everything Avizandum did was to protect Xadia! (4x08)

So just to sum up, Callum betrays Ezran for 4 main reasons:

If he didn't help Rayla break Runaan out, it was more likely something was going to go wrong (and he was right). If he didn't save her with the ice spell, she and Runaan were going to end up hurt and/or arrested or worse.

Callum is determined to treat her like family (even if Ez is not) and to break the cycle as they were instructed by Harrow, and as Ezran has done himself many times.

Rayla had an emotional and then physical problem that Callum Fixer McGee could fix; Ezran had an emotional problem that he was basically stonewalling Callum on.

Ezran had numerous other people in his corner to rely on (Zym, Aanya, Opeli, Soren, Corvus, Barius, his general guards, etc). Rayla had literally no one but her imprisoned father, all of her former friends and allies (Soren and Corvus) turning on her without question because the boy she was willing to lose a hand for told them to.

Rayla had greater need of Callum in the situation and in the moment, so his loyalty to her won out; if her and Ezran's situations had been reversed, Callum would've picked Ezran in that moment and situation without question, because that who he is. He picks whoever he thinks needs him more—over others, and over his own potentially hurt feelings.

None of this means, however, that Ezran didn't need his brother in S7. So let's talk about:

Why did Callum leave with Rayla?

There's the practical and the emotional ones, I think.

Practical:

As discussed, Rayla and Runaan wouldn't have made it in the boat without him. There is no way anything other than magic would've made it move fast enough to get away, and neither elf is inclined or aware enough of sky or ocean magic to make the boat go that way. Callum literally had to go with them.

If Callum had stayed, he would've likely been arrested himself, putting Rayla in a difficult situation of either sending Runaan off on his own to then bail Callum out, or leaving without him when he was in a bad situation. He wasn't going to do that.

If Ezran had arrested Callum, it also wouldn't have made him much happier or actually fixed anything. Callum might've (as in canon) apologized for hurting him, but Callum wasn't going to take back what he'd done, and this was probably just going to exacerbate Ezran's issues further.

At the time Callum left, Ezran wasn't focused on rebuilding Katolis and had made this plain. He was instead focused on collecting weapons, travelling to Duren and back to do so, and we only see him return to the castle's immediate surroundings when Aaravos shows up.

The emotional ones:

After 2 years of separation, and the only times they are separated usually being when Rayla is the most in danger, yeah, Callum doesn't want to be separated from her. She's his best friend and his life partner, and he and Ez have willingly & happily led far more separate lives for a while now (more on that in the next section). He wants to go with her. Sue him.

Callum believes that Ezran needs time to process his anger. He knew he wasn't able to get through to Ez, and that the betrayal would hurt him. It's not unlikely, then, that Callum thought time and distance would help, and that they could try to mend things later.

Katolis did not factor in (but I'll get to that in a bit).

Callum rarely experiences regret unless it puts the life of someone he loves directly in danger, and rarely questions the validity of his actions, especially when he think someone is wrong. (This is also why he'll never regret using the torture spell on Claudia, for example.)

Callum also knows Rayla and we see that, without him, Rayla would've dropped Runaan off at the Silvergrove and then immediately dipped. He wanted to go with her to emotionally support her and also knew that Rayla would let him vs not letting anyone helping her. Until Rayla is reunited with her family and let back into the Silvergrove, she does not have a support system outside of him; Ezran does.

As for having a good time at the Silvergrove... We see Callum's first day there, whereupon he's mostly focused on what Rayla and her family's situation is going to be. Runaan and Ethari make up for failing Rayla by giving her unconditional support and forgiveness, literally binding their fates to hers for the trial and supporting her when it doesn't go well and they think they'll be banished too. Callum has come all this way to reunite her with her village/family and considers her his family; yes, he's going to join in on the group hug and be happy when he's encouraged to. The next time we see them in the Silvergrove, it's been 2 weeks, and Callum is still a little awkward/nervous, but again, mostly focused on giving the family time to spend together and wanting to be integrated, because well...

CALLUM: Be with you. [Kisses her] Yup, I could do this. Pretty nice life. (7x05)

He wants a life with her; he likely has plans to marry and have children with her. It'd be like if Ezran wanted to have Zym around always and had issues with Zubeia constantly; it wouldn't exactly jive. Secondly, Callum's feelings about Runaan were always something I'd figure he wouldn't deal with directly right away, instead focusing on peace/Rayla, and then it would sneak up on him that it bothered him / was something he had to confront ("I just hoped, if I didn't think about it, maybe it wouldn't be true"). Less than one month passing in-show time with no real issues, especially with an entirely repentant Runaan? Yeah that's completely on brand to not be on screen because it'd only happen later.

In regards to Callum making peace and engaging more happily with Runaan... He's definitely not going to do anything else when 1) Runaan's not provoking him first and 2) in front of Rayla. Callum needing to adjust in the fic cited below (written by me and thosefiveadoraburrs in January 2020) semi-early into his relationship with Runaan is exclusively because Runaan is being a prickly asshole. Barring that, and even with that, the integration going smoothly is pretty easy for Callum at first because he's so focused/driven by his love for Rayla. Period.

"The point is that while I don’t care what you say about me, as I’ve heard far worse from other elves like you, Rayla does and you are still her father and she deserves to have you in her life and to have a good relationship with you. So when she’s not around, you can say whatever you want, even to my face. I don’t care and I don’t plan on rising to it anyway. But when she is around, you keep that shit to yourself, because it’s only going to upset her, and she’s been through more than enough.” [...] "You were so young," Rayla said, "so young, when you lost your family. And even if you’d been older, I don’t think their absence would hurt less, but I’m not surprised you notice it more because of how you had to grow up largely without them." [...] "It’s just… on any side," Callum said, "I can never just move on from what I’ve done, or what people think I’ve done, and I wish they would just let us be , sometimes. Without knowing that people think I should be regretting whatever decisions I’ve made, because they’re wrong. I never regret what they think I do.” 

Furthermore, from my pre-S6 fic:

Halfway through [their chess game], though, Ez rubbed at his temples again, and this time Callum asked about it. “You okay?” “Yeah.” Ez frowned as he surveyed the board and then moved his rook. “It’s just Zym. Normally when we’re far away, our emotions don’t blur too much... But because we’re both stressed about the same thing...” “It’s a lot?” Ez nodded, picking up a pawn and then setting it down on the same square, considering. “There is one thing you and Rayla could do to help, maybe.” Callum thought of the Summit that would be a few days’ long trip to Duren and tried not to squirm in his seat. “Oh?” Please not... “Well, we finally got the go ahead for the Summit next week. And the rest of the Pentarchy might take the urgency of hiding the prison more seriously if you and Rayla came along,” Ez said. “Since you’re High Mage, and Rayla’s Xadian. Since we don’t have Zubeia to rely on.”  “Yeah.” Callum focused on the board rather than Ezran’s expectant face, waiting for a yes he didn’t want to give. And what excuse could he offer, really?  Ez would probably pushback if he just thought they wanted to make a beeline for the Starscraper because of the Nova Blade. Ugh. Two secrets at the same time was the worst. And he wasn’t about to drag Rayla out to Duren just to be a token Xadian when he’d spent that morning trying to convince her that putting her parents above other missions that weren’t hers was actually okay for her to do. “Well, let’s see,” he said, hoping that’d be enough. “Don’t have to rush into anything.”

“He saw the egg and he would’ve still killed both of us!” “You think I don’t know that?” “Then how you can not care?” Ezran cried, voice cracking. His nose was runny, eyes stinging again. He bit something back. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t lose this argument just because he was crying. There was a fire in his chest that couldn’t be doused. “I do care, but I also care—I care more about Rayla,” Callum countered, because of course that’s what he’d fucking say. Ezran turned away from him, rolling his eyes and not in the mood to see Callum gesture at him. “She’s our family, why isn’t that—” [...] “You had Opeli and the rest of the council,” Callum said. “Don’t you get it? We’re all she has, we have to be on her side, she doesn’t have—she loves him. And that's enough for me."

“[About betraying and abandoning Ezran to free Runaan] What’s done can’t be undone. We can’t take it back.” Rayla chanced resting a hand on his shoulder. She had to accept his honesty if she was going to ask the question. “Do you wish you could?” “No.” He finally looked at her. “But I wish it could’ve gone differently, I...” Softening, he took her hand from his shoulder, running his thumb over her knuckles. “You’re family,” he said resolutely. “I won’t forget that, even if Ez has.” [...] “So you think it was the right thing?” she prompted more softly. Callum sighed, angry again—but not at her. “I don’t know if there’s always a right thing to do, anymore,” he muttered, sitting in the spot she’d vacated on the bed. “You just... make the choices you can in the situations you’re in, because the alternatives are so much worse. Other paths that you won’t—that you can’t live with.” 

But the big thing, I think, is that in Callum's head... nothing is more important than your closest interpersonal relationships. He's devastated by the loss of Katolis in general, yes—"Katolis was destroyed and that... that is devastating" and his sobbing before Soren finds him—because it was home, even if it was a home he never felt entirely at home in, due to his uncertainty with Harrow and place as a prince. But Callum also cries in 7x01 when he sees the king's tower has collapsed, and thinks he's lost Ezran.

In 1x06, Rayla gives her reason for travelling with the boys, yes, citing:

RAYLA: I could take it any time I want to. CALLUM: Then what's stopping you? RAYLA: Cause it as to come from you. Human princes returning the egg of the Dragon Prince, that's the gesture that matters. That's what could stop the war and change the world.

And it's not good enough for him (hence his angry little face persisting even after she explains) because that's not the reason he wants to hear. He wants to hear that she cares about them. That they're her friends, which is why that's precisely what he says to her on the ice before handing over the egg: "We're lucky to have you as our friend. I do trust you" even before he knows the truth about her binding. He wants the personal. Needs the personal. That's what matters. But that's not what Ezran draws on for any of their interactions. And if it's unfathomable to understand how or why Callum could walk away, then the good news is that said perspective ALSO made it into the fanon s6 fic through Corvus:

Corvus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can understand why the assassin would want to be free. I understand why Rayla would want him to be, too, and she loves the boys immensely. But I cannot understand Callum’s hand in it, the lengths he’s willing to go to. It is not as though he is the only one who could ever free the man. And Ezran is his brother and his king. His baby brother. [...] His responsiblity. It’s our duty as older siblings. He’s a sorry excuse for an older brother to just walk away like and abandon Ezran like that.” 

Because in the "family member picks breaking the cycle even if that means leaving their younger sibling / more emotionally distressed family member behind (often with others to support them): The Show", such as Janai marrying a human + sparing the architect who had every opportunity to think about the pain she'd cause by putting out the soul flame of Yonnis' parent even when Karim thinks she's not focused enough on the destruction of their home; Soren leaving his abusive warmongering father and killing him even if it devastates Claudia; Astrid abandoning her brother/family to warn everyone about Aaravos; Rayla fighting Runaan on the battlements; Viren leaving Claudia on the beach show, surprisingly, there's going to be patterns that Callum and co. will fall into.

If you're interested more in Ezran's side of things, his emotional processing throughout the season / construction of his identity, and how/why he was perpetuating the cycle, you can check out this meta here.

For now, let's finally talk about the final real section of our meta, which is

Why did Callum resign as High Mage?

On the one hand, Callum's resignation shows that he does conceptualize what he's doing as a betrayal, as noted, and as something that would cause a rift, as verbally stated in 7x07. He "knew my leaving would hurt you" just the way that Rayla leaving him did so. He also knew that at this time, to him, it was necessary. He knows that he can't do this and stay on as High Mage. He also knows, at this point, that he doesn't want to be high mage.

Because "that was devastating, but that wasn't Runaan." Because Callum doesn't personally care about Katolis as a kingdom/castle, and quite honestly, he never has. Post-S3, when things would've been politically terse, as shown in Through the Moon, he was willing to leave Ezran in Katolis on one day notice to go have a vacation exploring Xadia.

And it's not the first time he's left Katolis on short notice with zero concern, doing so in 4x03 (whereas Soren goes as Ezran's sworn crownguard, and Ezran hesitates) solely because Ezran is leaving. It happens again in 5x01 when Ez is away with Soren and Corvus on his dragon diplomatic mission, with Callum making the plan to leave for the Great Bookery the night before and leaving very early in the morning, even though he's currently the highest ranking person at court. We see Callum's discomfort at court first hand in his opening scene in 4x01, showing immediate wariness about his position as High Mage and his lack of mind to political matters:

GUARD: High Mage Callum, the King's council is assembling in the throne room. CALLUM: Oh, pfft, you don't need to call me that. I-I know it's my official title but all that high mage stuff is so... stuffy. Just call me my normal name, Prince Callum. Or just, y'know, just regular Callum. [...] Okay, I'm sorry, now I don't remember what you came here to tell me.

After which he immediately delays going to the meeting to check in on his magic book coming in from Xadia, though it hasn't arrived yet. Rayla's arrival causes Callum to oversleep and be MIA for Zubeia's greeting, leaving Ezran to momentarily flounder till Soren steps in, though no one seems surprised or concerned that Callum isn't there, just awkward. He doesn't go with Ezran to deal diplomatically with any of the dragons either, leaving it entirely in Soren and Corvus' hands, and he has no concern over leaving in 6x01 either, while Ezran hides his sadness about all his friends leaving to go elsewhere (Soren and Zym for Zubeia, and Callum and Rayla for the Starscraper). He and Rayla go rogue over Janai's orders as well, leaving Janai to reflect, "I may be queen, but even I don't have the power to stop those two once they set their mind on something," which is such blatant foreshadowing it felt like neon lights were flashing in my face.

We see this thread steadily even from 1x01, whereupon Callum only reaffirms Harrow is the king as a wall up to thinking of himself as his son. Harrow being royalty was a hindrance to Callum being comfortable of thinking about him on an interpersonal level, not a help:

EZRAN: Why don't you just call him Dad? CALLUM: Because he's the king. And I'm his stepson.

which is also why Ezran talking about the burden of kingship with him in 7x02 goes over Callum's head, because Ezran isn't actually focusing on the fact their father is dead; he's focusing on how it forced Ezran to be king, and being king is so the opposite to how Callum operates, it was never going to click.

EZRAN: Our king. Our father. [Takes off his crown] I never asked for this. I wasn't ready to be a king. I'm just a kid.

And one of the reasons I say the opposite is because of everything laid out above, patterns wise, but also because of his Tales of Xadia bio, which states:

I'm beholden to my inner circle, not some silly kingdom.

There are also scenes from Dreamer's Nightmare which help reaffirm this, where Ezran states that "As princes of Katolis, it's our duty to put you all [citizens of the town] first," only for Callum 1-3 pages later argue for the complete opposite, because:

EZRAN: [When Callum wants to wait for their dad / the adults to wake up and solve things for the town] I'm going either way, but I'd really like to have someone come with me. Someone who's good at solving mysteries. CALLUM: Fine, I'll go. But only because I'm your big brother.

EZRAN: The whole town is in danger, Callum! Let me go! CALLUM: No! I have to keep you safe! I promised King Harrow [...] but I keep failing, and I'm just so scared you'll get hurt.

I don't think either of these supplementary materials are necessary though, to get this aspect of his across, given that scenes like this were written well before the latter came out, and Callum's entire Tales of Xadia bio just reaffirmed exactly how I and many others have seen him since S1 came out:

"And Ez doesn’t need my help,” Callum added more cheerfully. “If he needed me, he’d say so.” He said it with so much confidence it took Soren a second to tell if it was a joke or not, but no. The young mage honestly believed it. How was a good question, and the answer would’ve been more so, given everything. Those first few months after the war were crystal clear in Soren’s mind: Ez weathering the political waves alone, wearily drafting peace treaties and legislations while Callum scoured Xadia, searching for Rayla and growing more and more irate every time he returned home empty handed. The way Ezran had single handedly held him together, Callum unable or unwilling to truly confide in anyone but his brother. How Ezran had let Callum hole up with that stupid mirror for hours on end rather than eliciting magical solutions to everyday problems, because at least he was focusing on something other than heartbreak. How many council meetings Callum had skipped or been late to, never operating as acting-king when Ezran was away on diplomatic business. Callum’s temper on his 16th birthday reigning summer storms down on the castle for weeks straight. His lateness to Ezran’s meeting with Zubeia that Soren had stepped in for; the way it had been him and Corvus, not Callum, accompanying the young king to his entreatment of the dragons and Domina Profundis. Ezran’s steady, strong nature, the way he could be so silent and quiet it was easy to forget how young he was sometimes and how much he’d been through, how much he’d missed their friend and father and his childhood. It’s not fair you have to struggle through this alone.  “Yeah,” Soren said quietly. “Sure.” 

Callum does not care about being crown prince or high mage. He isn't focused on supporting Ezran as king; he's focused on supporting Ezran as Ez, as his brother. Those are separate things from being Harrow's son and Ezran's brother, even if they can overlap. He cares about Katolis on a certain level, yes, but not on a big one; he cares about it because he cares about Ezran. And Ezran asking Callum to stay in the meeting as High Mage was never going to work. If Ezran had asked him to stay as his brother, maybe — but Ezran doesn't.

CALLUM: I'm sorry, Ezran. I can't be your High Mage anymore. But I'll always be your brother.

And in typical Callum fashion, whether he goes back to being high mage remains to be seen, but he does put in the majority of the effort in their actual reconciliation. He approaches Ezran first, he's the one walking over, and the one who speaks first.

CALLUM: Hey. EZRAN: [Uncertainly] Hi. CALLUM: So I've been thinking about this toy banther I had when you were just a baby. I loved it more than anything in the world, and you broke it. EZRAN: And... you're bringing this up now? CALLUM: I was so mad. I said I hated you, and I would hate you forever. And Mom said that it was okay to be angry, but I couldn't let the bad feelings stick. Because we were going to need each other. Because we're brothers. I still need you, Ezran. I know it's been a hard time, but I really hope—

Callum loved that toy more than anything, and Ezran broke it, and he got over it, because he loves Ezran more. He's saying it's okay for Ezran to be angry (x2) and it's okay if Ezran hates him. Just that even if Ezran is, and even if Ezran does, Callum still loves him and needs him and considers him his brother. That he hopes they can reconcile.

And Ezran accepts it—much to Callum's surprise and then relief— because he never needed his high mage. He needed his brother, and that's what Callum still is—what they'll always be.

EZRAN: I need you, too. CALLUM: Brothers. EZRAN: Brothers.

Conclusion

Back when they were both children, Callum and Ezran didn't have anything to put above each other and the immediate proximity of their bond. However, the events in the first 3 seasons change this forever. Callum finds magic and falls in love, and Ezran returns home to be king, and gains Zym and his council as constant supports.

Ezran puts going home to be king above continuing to travel to Xadia. From there, they spend more and more time and seasons apart. This is similar to Soren and Claudia, who have an increasingly fractured bond, but who also know aren't doomed to be miserable because of their separation or betrayal; they forge new friendships, bonds, and sources of laughter. But neither set of siblings ever forget their love for each other, even if they grow and their priorities expand to include other things. For Ezran, Zym and his kingdom are incredibly important to him; for Callum, Rayla and the life they're building together, as well as stopping Ezran (or anyone) from causing permanent unnecessary harm to one another in their little family is also a priority.

None of this is to say that Callum's way of dealing with things is flawless, or that they won't have more conflict again in the future (I'd love it, although I expect there to be more of a focus on Ezran-Zym conflict going forward) but being a little flaky/unreliable in a political sense is just who Callum is, even if he will always come through on the personal manner in the end.

Sibling relationships are complicated, and they can both mutually fail each other and Rayla, and then still come back together in the end. And I'm very glad that they do.

Other fun details:

Callum's letter refers to the dragons as big help, a gentle nod to how Ezran described them in 3x08

Callum confirming that he babysat Ezran regularly growing up, which fits with Callum's tug of war between being a parentified older brother with his own immature / peer adjacent sides

Callum sits closer to Ezran at the council table once he's no longer high mage, whereas before he always sat further apart

Ezran is symbolically embroiled with fire throughout the season (king of ashes, the fire ruby plan, the Nova Blade having the risk of setting the world on fire, the fire in his eyes that are meant to parallel Aaravos' etc). Callum is associated with water, nabbing Rayla's water reflection motif in later episodes, and with greater emphasis on his connection to the ocean arcanum in spell usage and its links in dark magic. The two then meeting in the middle is interesting symbolically, to say the least.

[deepinthegroves]

SHIFTING EXERCISE ⋆˙⟡

answering for my spiderverse reality

my name is Rowan Amara Victoria Nightwine.

my favourite food is lotus root soup? maybe? my tastes are fickle.

the movie i'd choose to watch for the rest of my life is avatar: the way of the water (and i'd bawl everytime neteyam dies).

my birthday is 7 December.

the song i'll always have a place for in my heart would be LUST by Chase Atlantic.

my favourite colour would be red (though i adore green too).

the most important thing to me would be my loved ones (and pets).

my favourite memory is laughing so hard at one specific hangout with my friends from the spider society that my stomach was aching, but i couldn't stop

my least favourite memory is watching peter die in my arms.

someone i dislike is miguel o'hara. i have so much beef with the man and wouldn't work with him if it didn't mean that i could help save a lot more people.

in a crowded room, i fear i'd look for hobie brown first. it's instinctual, my eyes searching for him in the mass of people, the first person i notice.

best music genre... i reserve the right not to choose. but if i had to, maybe r&b?

a topic i'd defend with my life is, important topics aside, humans are contradictory creatures and trying to fit yourself into a box for society would only make things so much worse. oh and it's not selfish to seek pleasure for yourself.

a character i relate to... i truly don't have kins :(

picturing my room, i'd say it exists in the inbetween. i know where my things are and certain things, like my bookshelves, are organised, but my bedside table and vanity are not.

gun to my head, am i funny? to me, absolutely. to others? i'm dead. (aka i have a very specific sense of humour)

i'd choose a fruit platter over a candy platter, just because i love fruits.

i'd choose sour over sweet and spice. i just like sour things, though spice is a close second.

my aesthetic is... ever changing. again, i don't like putting myself into boxes so i don't really have an aesthetic?

my sister, dahlia, lol. she would not be surprised that i'm a shifter mostly because she's a shifter too.

my hogwarts house is slytherin.

i'm an introvert.

my best school subject was either drama or literature.

a place someone can find me when i'm sad is probably my apartment. my apartment's one of my safe spaces, and i like to retreat to a place of comfort/ home when sad.

who am i? spiderman. rowan nightwine. a cosmic entity. there are many, many answers to this question.

music i don't enjoy is kpop. i've tried to listen to it many times but it just feels empty? to me. i think it's just because it's a very different genre than what i listen to and like. nothing against kpop fans though.

have i had near death experiences? uhh, a few times. i think it comes with the job.

who was my first love? contrary to popular belief, and something i'm never telling my fanbase and the public, my first love is actually harry osborn. we've kissed a few times (he was actually my first kiss uhh), but we're just best friends now.

has there been someone famous who i didn't like? oh loads. loads of people. (i've scripted out a lot alr though.) not going to name names though.

do i enjoy my fanbase? absolutely. they're sweethearts, and i love that they're always willing to give my new projects a chance. i love them so, so much.

what am i famous for? being my parents' child... but that aside, my modelling, acting, singing and fashion career.

my least favourite interview has to be the one from early on in my career. all they focused on was my looks and outfits, and when i tried to nudge the conversation back to the movie, the only thing they asked was whether or not i liked my costars and about significant others. like what the hell? take me seriously as an actor or i will quit mid interview.

my favourite instrument would probably be the guitar. i know, it's cliche, but it's just so gorgeous and i love the way it sounds in songs.

do i perform live? i do, actually, but the last time i performed was for a small music festival a few months after the release of my e.p.. i think i might look for space in my schedule to perform live again though.

note: i know i should post my dr intro before this but that's taking forever to make with all its different section so have this in the meantime <3

this is the shifting exercise by @zaddizu.

div. credits: @jiyascepter

[mistninja]

Feeling very "fitz-core" right now (spiraling)

[asha-mage]

Okay, but I think it's worth remembering that Rand IS as outraged as everyone presumes he would be, and spends a whole book falling into the exact trap Nynaeve describes above: mistaking killing and violence for justice. Rand spends all of Path of Daggers waging war against the Seanchan, attempting to beat them into either surrender and submission or utter retreat, and it does not work.

Counter invading the Seanchan is a useless exercise for a lot of reasons, but maybe the largest one that Rand later realizes in CoT is that hitting back at the Seanchan with violence dosen't undermind their system, it reinforces it. The Seanchan Empire is a giant war machine, built on the idea of 'expand, subjugate, consolidate, repeat'. Rand's war against them in Path of Daggers plays into that, helping the Empire justify it's imperialistic policies and to unify them behind a concrete plan of action ('go to war with the Dragon'), while also helping justify their use of the damane system, both to oppose Rand and more dangerously in it's underlying principle (those born with the One Power are inherently untrustworthy and will wreck chaos and destruction left unchecked).

Rand might eventually win an all out war against the Seanchan or he might not (another point of Path of Daggers is that being morally in the right isn't enough, and doesn't magically assure victory) but in the mean time those that suffer the most among the Seanchan will be the ones least culpable: everyday rank and file whose worst crime is believing in the society they where raised in. Not to mention all the conscripts from recently conquered Altara and Tarabon, who aren't even guilty of that. All the while Rand depletes his own forces and spends the lives of his own followers all without making any real tangible gain against the actual enemy their supposed to be fighting: The Shadow.

And if he does win, what then? If Rand had succeeded in destroying the Seanchan in the Path of Daggers (or worse gone through with his plan to decapitate the Empire's entire government with the Choden Kal in The Gathering Storm) what would he have actually accomplished? Plunging half the continent into chaos as bad as anything the Forsaken did (in the second case literally the exact same thing that Semirhage did in Knife of Dreams!), creating ANOTHER massive refugee crisis, another power vacuum destined to end in civil war and ruination, another swath of innocent common folk sure to watch their homes and lives destroyed in the absence of any way to maintain them. Rand certainly isn't in a position to step in and take over- he's barely managing to hold his own territory together as it is.

None of that is true justice, and Rand realizing that it isn't- that it's just revenge and killing and destruction is a big part of him avoiding falling to the Shadow. In fact the only person who comes up with a good concrete plan to take down the Seanchan empire that also approaches being just is Elayne. Elayne takes the prisoner of war sul'dam Rand sent her (which Rand did because he didn't have a plan beyond 'kill Seanchan until they stop being a problem' and failed to realize that would include women, who Rand was still vehemently against killing at that point in the series) and forces them to confront that they can channel, then sends every woman that wants to go back to Empire. Everyone is horrified by this: Elayne consigning women to life as damane, even women who themselves where once leash holders. But as Elayne points out if anyone deserves it they do, and if enough of them go back the Seanchan will not be able to keep their secret any longer, forcing a cultural reckoning that actually might do some good to change the underlying systems, and destabilize the Empire in a way that could prompt, if not its dissolution, at least an end to it's expansion. It's frustrating and slow going and it may not pay off in the timescale that we the reader hope it will, and it certainly isn't a grand glorious battle that would make for a good legend, but The Wheel of Time for the most part dismisses simple solutions to complex problems, and that is it's credit, not it's cost.

“She hurt me, Nynaeve. She hurt me. They all did. They hurt me, and hurt me, until I did what they wanted. I hate them. I hate them for hurting me, and I hate them because I couldn’t stop them from making me do what they wanted.” “I know,” Nynaeve said gently. She smoothed Egwene’s hair. “It is all right to hate them, Egwene. It is. They deserve it. But it isn’t all right to let them make you like they are.” Seta's hands where pressed to her face. Renna touched the collar at her throat disbelievingly, with a shaking hand. Egwene straightened, brushing her tears away quickly. "I'm not. I am not like them." She clawed the bracelet of her wrist and threw it down. "I'm not. But I wish I could kill them." "They deserve it." Min was staring grimly at the two sul'dam. "Rand would kill someone who did a thing like that." Elayne said. She seemed to be steeling herself. "I am sure he would." "Perhaps they do." Nynaeve said, "and perhaps he would. But men often mistake revenge and killing for justice. They seldom have the stomach for true justice." She had often sat in judgement with the Women's Circle. Sometimes men came before them, thinking women might give them a better hearing than the men of the Village Council, but men always thought they could sway the decision with eloquence, or pleas for mercy. The Women's Circle gave mercy where it was deserved, but justice always, and it was the Wisdom who pronounced it. She picked up the bracelet Egwene had discarded and closed it. "I would free every woman here if I could, and destroy every last one of these. But since I cannot..." She slipped the bracelet over the same beg that held the other one, then addressed herself to the sul'dam. Not leash holders any longer, she told herself. "Perhaps if you are very quiet, you will be left alone here long enough to manage to remove the collars. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and it may be that you've done enough good to counterbalance the evil yo have done, enough that you will be allowed to remove them. If not, you will be found, eventually. And I think whoever finds you will ask a great man questions before they remove those collars. I think perhaps you will earn first hand the life you have given to other women. That is justice." She added to the others. Renna wore a fixed stare of horror. Seta's shoulders shook as she sobbed into her hands. Nynaeve hardened her heart- is it justice, she told herself, it is- and herded the others out of the room.

This probably my favorite moment in The Great Hunt, maybe my favorite Nynaeve moment overall, which is saying something since she has a truly impressive number of amazing moments. It's easy to forget sometimes that as a Wisdom Nynaeve wasn't just a healer and guide to her people, but also a judge, an arbiter, a leader. This is a woman who has to sit in judgement, to weigh the lives of men and women, to give justice and know that when she spoke it, it would be as law. The stakes might not be has a high as they are for say, Morgase, yet that doesn't mean her choices matter less, especially to those she presided over.

And her insight here: about how men often mistake killing and revenge for justice, and instead lack the stomach for real justice, rings both true to real life, and true to Nynaeve's character. What she does this in this moment, leaving Renna and Seta at the mercy of their fellow sul'dam, and their own twisted culture, facing the very real possibility that they might be chained, might suffer, in the way they have chained other women, made other women suffer, is a lot more harsh then simply killing the women, especially in light of what we as readers and Nynaeve as a character know from first hand knowledge of Egwene's experience as damane. Killing them would likely be more merciful given the bleak existence they are now faced with.

Maybe worst of all, she gives them an unlikely sliver of hope. Maybe fate will allow them to go free, maybe the Wheel will have mercy on them, as unlikely as that seems.

And maybe more interestingly the Wheel does give them mercy, but not because they deserve it, but rather to offer them a chance to attone for their deeds many books later. They both live, but suffer in the mean time, prisoners of Suroth, having lost all their status and power within the sul'dam. And when Mat has need of aid to save three Aes Sedai from captivity in Ebu Dar, Renna and Seta get the chance to aid in the escpae and perform some small measure of atonement for what they did to Egwene. (And when Renna rejects that chance at redemption and tries to flee back to the Empire, to her old life, she dies for it, killed before she can ever sight the Seanchan army again).

Anyways Nynaeve great, and Jordan's themes of what justice means, what balance means, are still awesome.

[quimichi]

⌗﹒THEIR VOICE LINES ABOUT YOU ౨ৎ˚₊‧ GN!

Aether

❝Since the beginning of Mondstadt they've been with me. They actually turned out to be my second guide! Which makes Paimon even more of an emergency food❞

❝Whaa-Paimon will pretend Paimon didn't hear that!❞

❝No really, I'm glad I found them...or rather they found me. It really wasn't much of a surprise when I-oh-I'm already talking too much again.❞

❝Traveler can go shy when he talks about his lover, hehe. STOP PULLING ME AWAY-H-HEY-!❞

Albedo

❝Oh? I see, you already heard about Y/n. Well, its not a big of a surprise, they're well known here in Mondstadt. Don't worry, if you ever encounter them, dont be shy to talk to them. They have actually been a great help for my researches and experiments. ❞

Al-Haitham

❝ Y/N? Yes, what about them? Yes, we're in a relationship, and? No, I'm not mad, why? I'm asking to much questions? Could ask you that, you seem awfully interested in my partner. Passive aggressive? Pff, now you're just pretending things. ❞

Ayato

❝ You'd like to know more about Y/n? What makes you think I have answers? Oh? I see, Ayaka has told you about it, well...Me and Y/n have been in a relationship for quite a while now. They're a very good support, doesn't matter what path i take or decisions I make, they always have my back. Without them I wouldn't be half the man I am right now. Satisfied with this answer? ❞

Baizhu

❝ The person that always helps out here is not some assistant. Don't worry, I'm sure they're not insulted. Who else are they then? Oh, my lover. Whats with that surprised look on your face? Didn't think I'd be taken? To be frank...I'm quite surprised too that I got this lucky.❞

Bennett

❝ Y/n? My lucky charm? They're awesome! A loyal member in Benny's adventure team...the only one though...They go on every adventure with me! Saved my life multiple times! Bring me good furtune! And are my partner! Wow, I really lucked out for real this time.❞

Capitano

❝ I'd like to keep my private life as private as possible...but for you I make an exception, just this once. Yes, Y/n is my life partner, my lover if you'd like to put it that way. I hold them very dear and would protect them with my life if i have to. So, if I ever sense any bad intentions coming from you, I will crush you with everything I've got.❞

Childe

❝ They spend last winter with me and my family. So, to show them around and make them feel more comfortable in Snezhnaya we had a little snowball fight. Y/n got hit a dozen times in the face by Teucer. They lost, obviously. But the best part was, when we went home, the slipped right before the door and fell ass first to the ground...but instead of being upset or annoyed...they laughed. I knew they we're the one right then and there.❞

Chongyun

❝ Oh you know Y/n? Well, I do too. You knew? Xingqiu huh?...Can't seem to keep quite sometimes...Yes, I am dating them. Saying this feels foreign...I still can't believe they chose me of all people. But I'm not too insecure about it, after all, they chose me of all people.❞

Cyno

❝ Y/n is one of the few people who actually laugh at my jokes. I don’t know if its out of pity or if i truly make them laugh, but either way i don't care. As long as i see a smile on their face I'm at ease. Huh? What do you mean i sound lovesick?❞

Dainsleif

❝ There are things that I'd rather keep private and save, including my relationship with Y/n. So I have to apo-...no, i trust you but-...You're right. Y/n and I have been in a relationship for quite a long time now. They mean a lot to me, thats why I want to keep any information about them as private as I can.❞

Diluc

❝ Yes, I am in a relationship with Y/n. I guess the topic makes his rounds, huh? We announced our relationship just yesterday, but have been serious for a long time now. I am...not a public as you know. And i didn't wanted any unwanted or negative attention on both of us but i know i can trust you. Right?❞

Dottore

❝ Did i ever had a lover? What an inappropriate question of you~ Of course i had lovers, but none could compare to my favorite. Have you heard of Y/n? Oh yes, they are quite popular aren't they~? Well, they're mine, all mine. So it would be better for you if you keep your hands off them. ❞

Freminet

❝ Are they my friend? Uhm...no...they're a bit more than that. Uhm, yeah they're my partner. We've been together for a while now...Am i happy? Of course i am...I'm just a bit embarrassed thats all. No one has really asked me about our relationship yet except for Lyney, Lynette and father.❞

Gorou

❝ You want to know about Y/n? Sure, what do you wanna know? Yes, they're my partner, in fact, we live together! They're a really caring, they make breakfast every morning, tend any injuries i have and sometimes even run me a bath...that was too intimate.❞

Heizou

❝ Y/n? What do you know about them? Nothing yet but you wanna know more? Why? Interested? Why am I asking all these questions? I'm a detective, and you're interested in my lover-oops-now i ran my mouth.❞

Itto

❝ You mean the oni one for me?! The true love of my life!? THEY'RE AWESOME. I'm so incredibly lucky to have them. AND they're so incredibly lucky to have the awesome one and oni Arataki Itto as their boyfriend!❞

Kazuha

❝ They are currently waiting for my arrival...i cannot wait to have them in my arms again. I miss them every day...What's that book? Oh, it's just for all the poems i write for them while being away. One poem for each day. Once I'm back, i read them to them.❞

Kaeya

❝ Oh you mean my little snowflake? Yes, i know them quite well, i can assure you that one. Wasn't always like that though, took is a while to actually get closer. But i won't complain either way, I'm happy that we finally found each other...damn, look at all the sappy things I'm saying, they've done this to me.❞

Kaveh

❝ I'm still planning our house, i just cannot make it perfect! Ugh, it's really getting on my nerves. I NEED this perfect for them, I need to make this the house of their dreams. But it's taking way to long. Since when am i planning? About 3 years. And since when are we dating? Also about 3 years...oh...❞

Kinich

❝ When they first traveled to Natlan they didn't met me immediately. I've only got to know them through Mualani and Kachina. They once expressed their hatred towards saurian hunters, went off yapping for a good hour too. You should've seen the look on their face once i told them i was one of them. They're still embarrassed to this day, even more after i explained what i really do. One of the many memories that truly make me happy.❞

Lyney

❝ They're aware that true magic doesn't exist. That all my shows are just an act. That somewhere is a trick hidden, so simple its ridiculous. And yet, they're still amazed, still getting big eyed when I'm on stage preforming. Even after countless shows that are the same, they're clapping along like it was the first....I couldn't not have asked for a better support and love in my life then them.❞

Mika

❝ I still don't know how i managed to confess, maybe it's because i can't really remember it anyway. It's a memory I'd like to forget entirely, mostly because i was so embarrassed afterwards. But I never want to forget what they said afterwards. Everytime i hear those 4 words from them I get butterflies.❞

Neuvillette

❝ Y/n and I are in a serious relationship since 5 years and 4 months. We have been living together since 3 years and 1 month. I do consider our relationship deep and intimate. I trust them deeply and never once did I think about it otherwise. I truly believe that our relationship will hold on for eternity. Is this enough information or should I tell you more?❞

Pantalone

❝ Ah, my spoiled little brat? Joking, joking...well, only half. I do spoil them quite a lot, but i wouldn't consider them a brat...most of the time. Just last week I bought them this new coat, winter in Snezhnaya are the hardest in all Teyvat. Oh, and new gloves, a scarf an-no, why would i brag with my money, it's not like i have enough to buy at least million of coats.❞

Pierro

❝ The only thing you need to know is that they are with me and well taken care off. Should you not remember the fact that any hate or violence towards them is strictly forbidden, i will gladly remind you. ❞

Razor

❝ Y/n helped Razor a lot. Razor appreciates it, the help. Razor also loves Y/n. That's what Y/n always tells Razor every day. So Razor tells Y/n every day too.❞

Scaramouche

❝ Who? My lover? Them? No, I would never. No, I'm not keeping anything private?! Neither am I ashamed of anything...quite the opposite, huh? No, said nothing. Screw off now, i need to be somewhere. Where? None of your damn business...So what if its a date?!❞

Thoma

❝ Mhm, you're quite right, Y/n and I arw together. Lucked out, huh? I'm currently teaching them how to cook some dishes, been going well...for the most part. No, they have a hand for it but both of us always seem to lose any focus once we're 30 minutes into it.❞

Tighnari

❝ You should've heard their begging, "Oh Tighnari please, i can keep my own garden!" Yeah, keeping it, but not take care of it. Because who takes care of it? Correct, me. It's easy work, so it's not too troublesome. But what is troublesome is how they don't take care of it. *sigh* maybe i am a bit to harsh on them, they are a bit stressed lately anyway. They deserve to take a rest and calm down from everything. So i gladly take care of the garden, for as long as they need me to.❞

Venti

❝ Our first meeting was quite the embarrassing one, almost feel quite shy telling it....Ok! Ok! I'll tell you!....I fell into their lap...No, i wasn't drunk! Someone else was, pushed me by accident and i stumbled backwards right onto their lap in angels share. And to top it off i took their plate and drink with me. Lucky for me, they weren't mad at all. Still...it's so embarrassing!❞

Wriothesley

❝ Took them quite a while to adjust to Meropide. Understandable though, it's a change from the surface. But once they grew comfortable, it's almost like they don't want to leave. They quickly befriended almost everyone, especially Sigewinne. They grew quite popular here in the matter of just a few weeks. Good for me i got them first before anyone else could.❞

Xiao

❝ Hm? Oh, them? Yes, we're close. Why do you ask? Just curious? Ugh, don't look at me like that. What do you wanna hear? How much i love them? You can wait till the day Teyvat will shatter entirely, I won't say it to you, only to them.❞

Xingqiu

❝ Our love story is picture perfect. A written love story by the finest ink. Full of clichés. We reached for the same book, and our hands touched. Then and there, i was mesmerized...until they snatched the book first.❞

Zhongli

❝ Our love story has been holding on since 3717 years, and it will hold on for many years more. What makes me so sure it will? We love each other like it was the very first day. Never once did we lie to one another, were apart from each other or lost our trust. I do have a contract anyway if anything should happen.❞

[dark-night-hero]

"So it's true! You and her- Guizhong were a thing. Then what the hell does that make me Morax?!" "Can you just drop it of? We're in a hurry." He was tired. And their friend was in danger. "No! Knowing you'll be out there to save your other lover, tell me the truth Morax! Is it true?!" It was the same topic of argument for some time now. He had been denying it over and over again, he just cannot seem to understand why you kept insisting even after hearing him say that was not the case. And he was getting tired of it.

Guizhong was just a friend and that very same friend is now in danger if they do not arrive at rhe right time and here he is getting hold up because of your questions. And knowing you would not let him go even if he were to deny it because that was the truth. Maybe he should give in for now to avoid further more questioning and leave as fast as he can so he could come back to you in now time, knowing that he could easily resolve the misunderstanding and his lies. "You know what. It's true. Now if you just get out of the way, I need to save her." "Wha-what? Wa-wait! Morax-!"

He did not mean to be harsh than he already is. He was just mad, mad because he saw no reason why you should get jealous of a friend, a common friend of yours. Mad because he was running late and a little more than to it could possibly result the death of a dear friend. At the same time, he was mad at himself for leaving that way. But he knew he could always explain when he came back into you. The two of you could always sort it out after the battle like you two always does.

So why? So why in the world- celestia were everything was on fire. And you were in the middle of it, leaning on your weapon for support, blood running down all the way from your temple into your chin. It was not just that. You are bleeding, bleeding all over. Why. Why why why why why? Just what the hell happened in here?

"Don't come." You utter, despite the fact that you could barely stand, you painfully look forward to your lover... heh, can he still be called a lover when he already admitted that he betrayed you? "Some..." you pant. "Some beings came into the city while you were away... hahh, I manage to defend the city until all the people manage to flee but- cough! Hahh, the god manage to escape."

"No. No no no no no." It was getting hard to breathe, nevertheless you should see Morax from afar, running towards you. "Bastard- I told you not to come he-!" You stagger forward, for a moment losing consciousness, still, you embrace yourself with the thought of you hitting the ground. But you never did.

"Let go." "It was a lie. There was no one else." "Morax- I said-" "I was in a hurry, I did not mean to say those words. Guizhong was only a friend. Believe me. God- Celestia. There is no one else. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me." He was hugging, cradling you in his arms. His tears rolling down his cheeks, into your own but you were feeling quite numb to notice that.

"It's..." You tried to hold up a hand but you could only feel the pain and the more it drains you. In the end you could only hold on into his arm. "It's okay... you don't have to lie to make me... feel better." You tried to smile to make him feel better, so why does it look like he was about to lose his whole world? "No. No please. It's nothing like that. I was a fool, I am a fool. Please believe me there is no one else but you. (First name). Please."

You knew he was talking, you can see him talking despite how things were slowly starting to go blurr, you can hear a few words but cannot seemed to focus on it when there is a high pitched ring that makes you unable to focus on what he was saying. Also, "It's cold." You mumble, fighting everything you can to stay conscious.

"Fuck!" Morax can feel your body slowly but surely cooling down. Suddenly his heart dropped as he panicked, he was getting anxious. He felt fear for the first time in his life. "Hold on, please hold on." He tried, he tried his best to fix you with his powers but it was no avail. You have so many wounds, you have already lost a lot of blood. You were dying all ago. "Fuck." He cursed once again. "Fuck, fuck! I told you to hold on (First name)!" He was getting mad again.

Morax felt like he was going mad, he felt like he was about to get crazy. Specially when he saw you starting to close your eyes. He felt a shiver down his spine. "Don't you dare close your eyes (First name)!" Not like this, not when you seemed to sure that he never loved- love you. "Fuck!" His amber iris were glowing with that presence of a dragon. "Don't you dare fell asleep (First name). I'm begging you please-?" He felt a light squeeze on his arm.

"Its.. okay." Taking your last breath, Morax felt the heavy weight of your now dead body in his arms. Your hand falling to your side as your head rest in his chest. At that very moment a rain drop fell from the sky, Morax arms were trembling yet still manage to pull you closer to him as if trying to find a little warmth. "Hah, hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA."

That day, the dragon lost his mate. His one and only mate as his anguish cries were heard all throughout their land.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

: bye, may klase pa ko ng alas quatro sa hapon.

: Also, why is it always zhongli who become the victim of my angst ideas. Tho I might make a same promt with ???

[hurtspideyparker]

Peter places an envelope on Tony's desk.

Tony looks up confused, "huh? What's that for?"

"It's for you," he points awkwardly at the plain blue envelope, held closed with a Darth Vader sticker.

"It's not my birthday kid." He snaps the protective face shield back down as he picks up his soldering iron, sparks flying as he gets back to work.

"I know that I, uh. It's from, it's for. It's yours. I gotta go, see you later Mr. Stark!" Peter hikes his backpack up tighter as he skips out of the lab.

Tony grunts in acknowledgement without looking up, eyes focused on the searing metal in front of him.

* * *

"Tony? I thought you were gonna have dinner with me after Peter left," Pepper saunters down into the workspace in a flattering pair of jeans and baby blue blouse.

"I was. I am. He left like five minutes ago," Tony waves at her without taking his eyes from the computer he's typing on.

"Happy drove him home two hours ago. Come, have a nice sit down meal with me." Pepper wraps her arms around his shoulders from behind, kissing the top of his head.

"I can have a sit down meal. I'm sitting right now, bring the carbonara down here and it'll be a proper date," Tony replies.

"Yeah, you me and your computer. How romantic. Tony, come upstairs- what's this?"

Tony glances up to see her holding a blue envelope.

"Uh, it's the kids."

Pepper flips it around, "it says To Mr. Stark From Peter on the back."

Tony just shrugs and goes back to typing on his computer.

The delicate glue of the sticker is undone under Pepper's sharp nails as she opens up the envelope and pulls something from inside.

"It's illegal to open someone else's mail y'know," Tony teases.

"Tony this- god you are such an asshole!" Pepper smacks Tony on the back of the head with the envelope.

"Ow! What the- what did I do now! I was just joking about the carbonara thing... mostly."

Tony finally meets Pepper's eyes of scorn. She tosses something in front of him with a huff.

"Tony, he even used a Darth Vader sticker. Do you know how adorably geeky and topical that is? You have got to start paying more attention to the living breathing people in front of you instead of your machines. Dinner is ready, please come upstairs."

Tony watches her leave as the clack of her heels fade away with every step. He's not sure what Darth Vader has to do with missing dinner, but he's quick to get up and start to follow.

He pauses before he makes it out the door, turning to finish the last line of code before he forgets the function. He pushes something off of his keyboard to type and press save.

Tony can't remember the last time he looked up from his work long enough to consume solid food. He's so ready to carb-load with some Italian food, turning away from the computer and blue envelope.

Tony's eyebrows furrow. Hm. Darth Vader sticker.

Tony turns back around and picks up the envelope from beside his keyboard.

This must be what the kid was yapping about earlier. Tony sticks his hand inside and finds a card, pulling it out.

"Father's Day it is," the front says in bold lettering with a picture of Yoda crudely hand-drawn with a sharpie and green highlighter. Tony flips it open, "celebrate you we must" is written in the middle of the page.

Below is a message in smaller writing; "Thank you for everything Mr. Stark, we wouldn't be here without you!" with a blob of sharpie that looks suspiciously like it's scribbled out a small heart, then signed "From Peter, Dum-E and U" each name written in their own unique handwriting.

"Friday, what day is it?"

"It is Sunday June 16th, also celebrated as Father's Day in countries such as the United States, Canada, and the UK."

Hm.

Tony stands there and stares at the card for longer than he'd ever admit before looking up at Dum-E.

"You help with this?" he asks, pointing at the card.

Dum-E chirps happily, twirling his claw around.

"Your hand writing's terrible."

* * *

Peter enters the lab slowly, an unsureness to him that's out of character.

It's Wednesday, his usual day for coming over to Tony's workshop. He hasn't heard anything from Tony since Sunday, not that he usually does. Still, the quietness has unnerved him. He's not sure what he was even expecting from his mentor; silence is probably the nicest response he could hope for after embarrassing himself like that.

"Hi Mr. Stark," he greets once he spots the older man sitting next to a complicated tangle of wires.

"Hey kid, can you go to the computer and run the command I have open for me?"

"Sure thing!" Peter says as he dumps his backpack onto the floor and jogs over.

The two get into an easy rhythm and Peter's practically forgotten why he was nervous in the first place when, "hey grab us some sodas will you," Mr. Stark asks him.

Peter walks up to the fridge in the corner of the room when he notices something new.

In the center of the silver metal lies a single piece of paper, stuck to the refrigerator with a plain magnet seemingly scrapped from some old hardware in the lab.

Tony has his Father's Day card displayed like some dorky parent whose kid got a half-decent report card, showcased on a fridge like a toddler's finger painted masterpiece.

It makes Peter so happy he can't wipe the stupid grin off his face the entire time he's grabbing sodas and delivering one to Tony.

The older hums a thanks without looking away from his project, but as Peter turns away Tony's own face contorts into a pleased smile all of his own.

The two share identical smiles all afternoon, hidden behind soda cans and computer screens.

[ilydeku]

izuku loves to talk about you during interviews

- anything and every topic it will ALWAYS be about you

- the question won't even be remotely related to you and still izukus answer will revolve around "y/n, my wife!!" <3

- oh, the glint in his eyes, the peaking smile when he speaks about you, lover boyyy

- the media knows he LOVE LOVES you, they think it's funny for this big, confident, mighty hero to be reduced to sap when it comes to you

- it's like his whole personality is HIS WIFE

- the journalists lowkey get so SICK of him for this, they don't want to invite him anymore 😭

- but they kinda have to, due to to his status as #1

"Good evening everyone and welcome Hero Talk! Tonight we'll be staring someone you all know and love, single handedly the greatest hero of all time, Deku! Alright, Deku how are you tonight?"

"Feeling pretty good! This is one of my wife's favorite shows, so I'm even more grateful to be here. And how are you?"

"Oh, same old. Really, just living. Now, we wanted to ask you some fun questions. Let's start with this one. Why did you want to become a hero?"

"Wow, haha! That really brings be back to my youth. When I was kid, my biggest influence was All Might, and he miraculously became my mentor. He was a good hero, and a good man. I wanted to be just like him: fearless, persevering, saving people with I smile. I would beg my mom everyday to watch this video on the computer of him saving a bunch a people. I was really swayed by All Might. I wanted to become a hero to make an impact in the world. I wanted to save people with a smile too."

"That sounds really endearing, Deku. I remember All Might's reign. He wasn't number one on the top charts all those years for nothing. So, did you ever think you'd be standing as Japan's top hero?"

"Well, it was never really my goal to become number one. That was Kacchan's- Dynamight's. My dream was, like I said, to become a hero and save others. But I have to say, it really is a blessing. I'd like to thank my Mom, All Might, my friends, and especially my wife for who I've become. My Mom has really done a lot for me growing up: protecting, encourage, and just always caring for me. All Might has kinda been that father figure for me when my Dad was away. My friends have shown me what it's like to work together and really be part of a heart. And my wife? Haha...I can't thank her enough for all the times she's been right by my side, even before we were together. Nothing I can say or do will ever be enough to express how much she means to me."

"Mm. Quite the supportive group. Your wife sounds like quite the lady!"

"She is. She's wonderful."

"Moving on to the next question, do you use social media often?"

"Occasionally, yes?? My wife uses it regularly, posting about us when we go out and stuff. It's mostly for her family to see how she's doing. She handles most of my official accounts. She says it's to be more appealing to the public, and I guess to show that there's more to heroes on the inside?? I'm not really sure, but I trust her process. Although, I'd rather be appealing to her alone."

"The public will always interested in a hero's private life! Now, Deku, what is your ideal setting of relaxation?"

"My wife doesn't like places that are too crowded or noisy, so maybe a cozy day at the beach?- but early in the morning or in the evening when the crowds calm down. Maybe a movie theatre, but days after the movie is released so it's just us together. Actually, a lazy day at home together is great too! Cooking meals and watching a movie on the couch? Really, any place is relaxing if my wife is with me."

(am i questioning Deku's wife or Deku!?) "How scenic! Those sound very fitting for you!! How about any restaurants?"

"Not really. My wife really knows how to cook, it's amazing! I love her home-cooked meals, so there's no way I'd go out of my way to a restaurant. But if my wife is feeling it, I'll be sure to make reservations."

"(sigh)"

"(smiling warmly)"

[monster-effer]

Syntribation | Clenched Thighs Save Lives – Sylus x reader

Summary: You have an interesting technique to get off. It is not something you’re ashamed of, but it has caused friction in past relationships. But you’re with Sylus now, how will he handle this part of you? Content: MDNI, suggestive and sexual acts mentioned, hurt (past) and comfort, fluff, Sylus and reader are dating (~900 wc) A/N: This is for the girlies that get off via syntribation! It’s a topic that’s near and dear to my heart and something I have yet to see mentioned in a fanfic. I tried to envision how Sylus would react to a reader confessing that this masturbation method is the only way they get off. There is more dialogue than usual because I am trying to work on improving that skill. Enjoy <3

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It’s not that you don’t want to be intimate with Sylus, because you really really do. You just feel too worried to even attempt such a feat due to what it takes to get you off. Your preferred and only way to reach your peak is extremely specific, but nothing else works for you.

You’ve stuck to masturbating this way since you experienced your first orgasm and have had no urge to change.

Until now.

Until him.

Sylus was a breath of fresh air. He was everything you could want in a partner. He was ridiculously tall, gorgeous, witty, protective, and he never misses an opportunity to build up your self-confidence. He was a walking wet dream.

It was painful to avoid his advances because of your insecurity. And lately, the excuses you give to delay the inevitable conversation are starting to make you cringe.

“I’m on my period.” “My stomach hurts.” “I just got a call from work?” “I sense a wanderer nearby!”

Currently, you both were laying on your sides while smooching in Sylus’ massive bed. It was a cozy weekend morning and you two were still in your pajamas. You reluctantly pulled your lips away from his before it could get too heated. Another silly excuse was on the tip of your tongue. But before you could get it out, Sylus interrupted you.

“Kitten…I’ve noticed that you shy away when I attempt to be more intimate with you,” Sylus says slowly.

Sylus is a patient man, but it seems the more time he gave you, the farther you ran from him. He is also an observant man, and he can see and feel how much you enjoy kissing him and having him caress your body. But something is holding you back and he’s going to find out what that is.

Your heart is racing as you sit up, lean against the headboard, and let out a sigh. “Is that so?” you ask as you begin fidgeting with your fingers.

Sylus sits up against the headboard with you and holds one of your hands. “Yes. I would like to know why or if I have done something wrong. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Have you ever heard of syntribation?”

Sylus tilts his head to the side as his eyes are trained on your face. “I can’t say that I have. Care to enlighten me?”

You feel your hands get clammy and your face warms. “Well, syntribation describes how I masturbate. It is the only way I can reach orgasm.”

You take in a shaky breath before continuing. “In simpler terms, I usually clench my thighs and other muscles to reach orgasm.”

You begin to speak faster, forcing the words out. “Which makes it hard for me to orgasm during sex. Past partners have given up trying to pleasure me entirely because it is ‘too difficult.’ And in the end, it left me feeling broken.”

“But I don’t want to feel that way with you Sylus. I’ve avoided everything past kissing and fondling because I’m scared.”

The silence in his bedroom is LOUD and you begin to worry that you overshared. Before you can conjure up another excuse to flee you feel Sylus let go of your hand and take a gentle yet firm hold of your chin. His hold directs your eyes back up to his and you see a tender smile on his face and lust darkened eyes.

“Kitten, this is what has been holding you back? You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” you ask in a hushed voice.

“Not at all,” he says simply. He lets go of your chin now that your eyes are focused on him.

“In fact, I would love a demonstration of this syntribation. I have so much to learn.”

You feel the familiar, fearful heaviness in your stomach at his suggestion. “You don’t need to do that!” you blurt out.

“No kitten, I insist. I already have a few ideas that I want to try with you, but I need to do my research first,” he smirks at you before pulling you onto his lap and your head down for a kiss. Both of his large hands rest on the sides of your face as your lips meet.

You wrap your arms around his lower back and eagerly press your lips against his. A soft moan leaves you as you feel your bottom lip being sucked into Sylus’ mouth. And you feel yourself soften onto his tongue.

Kissing Sylus is always a sensual experience but today feels unique. Like he can’t get enough of you.

As you continue to kiss, you feel his tongue brush against the seam of your lips and you open them for him. His warm tongue caresses yours as he begins to explore your soft mouth.

You melt further into the kiss and curl your tongue around his. Sylus pushes you back slightly so he can trail his hands down your body, to rest on your hips. Your breath hitches when you feel your breast bounce as you’re jerked backwards.

You maintain eye contact with him as you lean in towards him and place your left hand against the headboard. Your right hand slips behind his head so you can thread your fingers through his white, silky hair before firmly pressing your lips back against his.

Sylus uses his hold on your hips to press you down and rock you gently against his hard cock that you can clearly feel through his thin pajama pants. You whimper into his mouth as you pull away, this time for a new reason.

With a mischievous smile on your face you ask, “Are you ready to start researching now?”

[aingeal98]

More Jason and Cass thoughts (sorry but also not sorry) but if I was magically given full control over DC and could write what I'd want obviously I'd make Cass Batman but I've been thinking of what sort of reaction and role Jason would have in response. I think I'd write his version of "Congrats on the new job!" as a test, involving the Joker and civilians and gangs and Red Hood and a ton of explosives. Bruce failed me, and now he's given up. You're his successor, let's see how you handle this dilemma that freaked him out so badly he threw a batarang into my throat rather than let me avenge my own death in front of him.

So obviously Cass will overcome the traps and the puzzles. That's the fun part to show how competent both of them are and sprinkle in little character moments as we go. But then we reach the emotional crux of the matter, probably laid out as some sort of saw trap because it's Jason. Here I am, a victim of murder. You say nobody dies tonight but I did, and I want the man who did it dead. Not only did Batman fail to avenge me but he failed to stop the Joker from going on to create even more victims. What right do you have to stop me from getting justice for myself? What right does this man have to life after what he's taken from me and from countless others? I'm not trying to kill a random stranger, I'm specifically demanding justice for my own death that I never got while I was gone.

There are two ways this could go. The straightforward route if I knew my time on this run was limited would probably be a pyrrhic victory like the ones Cass's og series was so fond of. Just like Bruce in utrh, she acts on instinct and saves the Joker (and Jason this time) . A win technically, but she fails the test. Jason is once again vindicated but with nothing to show for it. The story ends with Cass sending the Joker back to jail and going back to the batcave, where the old Robin costume looms judgementally, highlighting her failure. It would be the most fitting end given their character molds, all tragedy and conviction and unstoppable force meets immovable object etc.

However... I think the option I prefer would be a little different. Cass levelling with Jason, a killer talking to a murder victim. She has no right to stop Jason from getting justice, she has no love for the Joker but she knows any death she allows to happen like this would devastate her, just like that death row inmate long ago she tried to break out but ended up letting go once the family of the victim talked to her and demanded justice. I think... In this specific situation, she'd just be honest. Morally she has no right sure. Personally she just really really doesn't want anyone to die. Give her one chance, please. Let her try it her way. Not demanding, not lecturing or insisting, just... Please. Don't do this. Let me try another way.

And then what? Jason asks.

In the end a deal is struck. Cass will take the Joker and lock him up, ensuring he never harms anyone again while also trying to rehabilitate him. But the second she fails and he gets free, Jason kills him and she won't stand in his way. It's the kind of deal that leaves both of them mildly disgusted and dissatisfied with themselves, neither of them naturally creatures of compromise when it comes to this specific topic. But Cass is willing to do anything to avoid death and Jason did not expect the new Bat to be so... Flexible? Kind of? Of course maybe she won't actually hold up her end of the deal and when the Joker gets loose she'll try and stop Jason from killing him and he'll get his miserable vindication, but right now this is something strange and new and he's mildly confused and curious about where it will go. He doesn't believe in her ability to contain the Joker forever but he's willing to let her try because her reaction to that future failure interests him. She's given him a sword of damocles to hang above her head and he didn't ask for it or expect it. It's the type of power he never thought the Bat would just... Hand to him.

The conflict ends with neither of them fully winning or losing. They both don't really know what to feel about this.

The thing is, the second Cass let's Jason kill the Joker she's hanging up the mantle. She's staking the Bat on this, because it's always go big or go home with her when it comes to saving others, even someone like the Joker. In this magical universe where I have unlimited power, Cass would lock the Joker in a secret bunker and have Leslie Thompkins talk to him daily, mostly because I think her pacifism speeches and debates in the comics would make a fun contrast to the Joker's evil sadism. (But what about his rights? Doesn't he deserve a trial and to be held in a regular prison? I'm going to be honest I think Cass would be very comfortable bending the rules on this specific situation. Morally questionable but I'd have fun with it. She's going to let Leslie treat Joker like her personal pet project to save his soul because yes she wants him to change but also she's got a city to save every night so go crazy Leslie, have fun.)

And the Batman series would continue with Cass as the lead, new challenges and new antagonists and every twenty issues or so for the first hundred we'll cut back to the Joker briefly if his chats with Leslie can help highlight some thematic element of the current arc. But bit by bit he'd slowly fade away onto oblivion, maybe getting referenced every hundred issues or so until eventually no one remembers or cares about him because there's so much else going on. Meanwhile Jason's got a good thing going as Red Hood, primarily based in Park Row and a tentative ally on the occasion when their vigilante work aligns. Unlike Joker he's a much more frequent character in the comics, and after say 10 years (this is my magical fantasy universe Cass's batman run is going to last for a very long time alright) when people think of DC characters they think of Red Hood long before they think of the Joker.

Is any of this realistic? Right now of course not. It's why I'd go with the pyrrhic victory if I actually got the chance, because it would be the best way to tell the story in the larger context of the Bat narrative. But it's my fantasy DC editor and writer daydream and I'm going to dream big. They're never going to be normal happy siblings, their personal demons will never fully let them be free and the looming possibility of losing everything they currently have narrative wise if Bruce comes back as Batman will always be there. But it's maybe the closest to peace they'll ever get. Unsatisfying and tame compromise that probably violates several laws and ethical codes but whatever. Cass has never read the Geneva convention and Jason's not going to shed tears over the Joker. Let him die relevancy wise if not physically.

[moonlightcycle571]

The Pros Of Being Omni-Lingual

Saw a while back someone saying Captain Marvel (or Shazam or Captain Thunder or whatever name you choose for him) is omni-lingual. I have no idea if it’s actually cannon, but it lives rent free in my head, and I got no plans of evicting it any time soon.

But anyways, the reasoning makes sense. He got his powers from The Wizard, to be The Champion of Magic, so it makes sense that among his other powers, he’s got all the languages down. And that works in his favour when connecting with Heroes

In general, people are more relaxed and open when speaking in their mother tongue, and with Cap knowing all the language cause of ✨magic✨, no one can blame him for knowing even the most top secret and heavily guarded languages (like Themisquiran, Atlanlantian or other).

See, when someone like Batman or Martian Manhunter speaks to you in your native language, it’s intimidating. When another JL member does it, it’s a pleasant surprise, but you can sense they aren’t that comfy with a language also do it for work purposes.

But when Cap does it? It’s “oh you speak …” “oh, I’m omni-lingual” type dialogue. If he gets a cult after mentioning that it was a gift from the Gods, then that’s a while other story

Pair that with his sunny attitude, and his golden retriever attitude, of course he gets people to like him. He’ll understand all the memes, have fantastic insight (Wisdom of Solomon) and political views (Whiz Kid radio host). To put it blankly, he has amazing conversational skills, and I am convinced that discussions can be the most meme filled talks or the most profound stuff you have ever heard, especially if it’s about Magic.

To get back on topic, these facts make him especially loved, not just by civilians he saves (head cannon that he knows what’s your preferred language of you speak more than one and reassures them in that language), but also by other heroes.

He can be seen with Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian (speaking Martian) while helping them cook some food from their home world.

Or with Supergirl in the lounge Kryptonian (Kal is great and all, as are the other supers, but Kryptonian is not their first language, not like her).

Or with Aquaman, talking about various Sea Gods in Atlantian. Whenever he’s got some Magical duties in Atlantis for whatever reason, he always gets invited for dinner with the Aquafam. He, Mera and Gar have the best Magic discussions

He tries to avoid speaking Themesciran, cause he’s a guy and he doesn’t want to disrespect their culture, but Wonder Woman is always more relaxed when speaking in her mother tongue. Most of the time, he will settle for Greek though (it’s her second language so it’s close enough). Although he did take it upon himself to teach Cassie when Diana couldn’t

For any of the Batfam, he switches languages, every other sentence. They love it, especially Bruce, Dick and surprisingly Alfred. It’s enrichment and tests their knowledge. When Clark and Diana aren’t here and his kids are in the watch tower, they go to the Captain to help with their language education (they don’t know he’s a kid, which makes Billy think he’s adulting right). Later when it was revealed he’s a kid, it makes the JL groan that a child was the better designated Baby Sitter (now Batman sends his kids in to hopefully adopt Billy)

When meeting new heroes, it’s the same shabang. He can instantly acclimatise to them and is just a walking talking Pitbull (looks scary, is a sweetie pie)

The lantern corps love him, and keeps sending him rings. My guy has to give the GLs a bad full of rings before every meeting (although they do wonder why there’s the a red, and sometimes yellow rings in the bag). holy shit I need to make a post about lantern corp and Captain marvel

But anyways, that’s just me ranting as someone who was raised bilingual and who definitely prefers English.

[kaiserthebiter3]

How would the l&ds men react if they find out about you telling your bestfriend about what happens between you two in bed ?

Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel and Sylus x reader (separately)

requests are open btw :)

Xavier

making yourself comfortable on the couch of your guys' living room , giggling and kicking your feet , totally letting your guard down thinking your handsome boyfriend is still napping .

"I'm telling you tara he may look nice and gentle , but in bed?? noo that guy is the exact opposite of gentle , not that I hate it though" , this was a message sent to your best friend Tara while you girls were discussing how the intimate time with your boyfriends is like.

Xavier passes through the hallway and notices your little giggles and the way you were pretty glued to your phone's screen , curious , he enters the living room without you noticing and gets behind you , and yes he pretty much read everything before you finally noticed him standing behind your back .

you were met with his raised eyebrow and a look on his face that clearly says *really?* , "Xavier what--" he cuts you off "I'm the one who should be questioning you right now , don't you think?" he sighs and proceeds "honey ..what is that , that you're doing?" , you hide your phone behind your back , your cheeks heating up "I mean....nothing important? " , he sits besides you making sure to face you , "nothing important?" you could sense the teasing tone in his voice , he's mocking you "ok , ok i know it might seem weird but it's just tara you know ?" you say brushing it off, "lovely I know you're close with tara but.. to that extent?" he asks , "yeah don't worry it's pretty normal between us....I mean this isn't our first time talking about...this.." xavier raises his eyebrow again but this time in amusement.

"well then" he gets closer to you then raises your chin with his hand "why don't I give you two more stuff to talk about?" with one swift motion , he ripped the buttons off your shirt staring dangerously into your eyes while at it "you make sure you tell her exactly of what is about to happen to you" he mocks you with a wicked grin.

Zayne

You've been waiting for your husband to pick you up from your work place for quite sometime now , however, thankfully your best friend Tara decided to keep you company while you wait for his arrival.

and somehow your conversation had took a rather an interesting turn , "ohh zayne is almost never gentle during it" you say sighing then proceeding "but it is because I , most of the time , rile him up" you remarked proudly , tara gets intrigued "ohhh? do tell your secret" ,she gets closer eager to get some tips from you , "darling" a voice cuts you both off , and you both flinch at the sudden voice coming between you , "it seems like a very important topic you both are discussing , but I'm afraid we have to go home" he says this with the most normal collected tone ever , like you two weren't just talking about his habits in the bedroom , tara gets embarrassed and excuse herself , but she does shoot you a look of "good luck" before leaving you two to be.

on the way home zayne never mentioned it , in fact he was asking how was work today and some other normal questions , so the ride was quite peaceful.

however as soon as you guys are in the house , he finally comments "so I'm almost never gentle huh?" he says so out of the blue with a smirk on his face , catching you off guard , you were hoping he'd actually ignore it and never mention it "well? am I wrong tho??" you reply trying to save some face by attacking him , "no you aren't" he says simply , "but only because almost everytime you rile me up" he said emphasizing the 'you' in the sentence , "zayneee" you whine "stop teasing me ok? you might think it's weird but it's quite normal between girlfriends to.....gossip" you said the last word while hiding your face in the palm of your hands , he chuckles at your state , approaching you he grabs your hands removing them from your face to look at you all flustered , but you moved your gaze away looking at everything in the room but him , "darling look at me" he says gently , and you can't help but fold "I'm not mad , but in fact a little invested in what you tell her" now his tone changes from a gentle to a very teasing one again "I'm pretty sure you've told her about what makes you feel good" he whispers in your ears seductively determined on teasing you , you pause for a few moments but ending up nodding to him defeated , "well then I guess you have to tell me as well , providing me with specific details that is".

Rafayel

it wasn't weird for you that rafayel drags you beside him sometimes , when he wants to paint , he claims that he's able to concentrate better when you're by his side.

but the more your boyfriend painted, the more focused he became, giving you the perfect opportunity to answer the texts tara sent you earlier, unnoticed .

"so you were talking about how your boyfriend is such a tease huh?" tara's texted "yeah exactly , this man has no shame he'd tease me at his workplace sometimes" you reply not knowing that you were smiling unintentionally while writing this, "although i can't say I dislike the thrill that comes with it" you add completely absorbed in the conversation , not noticing your boyfriend who's been trying to talk to you for a minute now , he eventually gives up and snatches the phone out of your hand bringing it up to his face "what's got you so entertained that you forgot about my presence?" he said looking through the screen trying to identify the reason , "rafayel don't---" you said trying to get your phone back before you get busted

"too late my love too late" he winks then gives the phone back to you willingly "I saw everything" he says leaning back relaxed , totally unbothered , but rather amused , and this got you more nervous than you already were , you wanted to say something to defend yourself , you really did ,however you didn't find any .

"ohhh you poor little girl" rafayel mocks getting closer , "seems like the cat got your tongue" his hands are now resting on your hips feeling them up and down slowly "I should tease you like I always do" he parts your legs with a swift motion startling you "only then I could get your sweet sounds to come out".

Sylus

sylus was never the one to pry , but when he overhead you on the phone with tara , he raised an eyebrow.

he had heard some very interesting remarks coming from you , of how he left you breathless and weak in the knees last night , all described in thorough details .

You didn't even notice him standing in the doorway until his deep voice cut off your conversation .

"so that's what you tell your friends?"his tone was a mix of amusement and curiosity , you jumped , clutching the phone to your chest "uhh sylus....I didn't see you there" you said flashing him an innocent smile .

his gaze lingred on you for a while , scanning you , before speaking "I wasn't aware our nights were a topic of discussion between you two" he says crossing his arms.

you huffed , setting your phone aside still red faced , "well it's normal , ok??" you explained defensively "girls share these things with eachother , and tara is the one that I go to for....stuff".

"Stuff?" sylus repeated clearly enjoying watching you flustered , he moved closer backing you against the wall as he leaned down , his face inches from yours , "care to share exactly what kind of 'stuff' you told her?".

you tried to maintain your composure , but your face kept heating up at the memory of the stuff you told her "just ...you know??" you muttered, looking anywhere but his eyes , "no I don't know kitten , speak up" .

you huff again "I...might've mentioned...how rough you are" you admitted , voice barely audible , sylus on the other hand was satisfied with the answer "I see" he hummed with dark amusement , leaning to whisper in your ear "next time , I'll make sure there are a few things you can't quite put into words".

[hanjisick]

Orders.

genre. mafia au. bodyguard!lee know x fem!reader

desc. your father is an elite, high ranking official in a mafia family. after your first kidnapping, a bodyguard was hired to ensure your safety.

warnings. nsfw. fingering & sex. torture. kidnapping. murder. violence.

wc. 10k

✉️ : this is my first writing after a 9 month hiatus. i apologize for the unannounced break and i will be answering and writing again shortly. enjoy! :)

You sit in a wooden chair, wheezing and thrashing from days of sleep deprivation and torment. Your body aches, wrists bruised and bloody from the ropes, and you almost feel like giving in and spilling Daddy’s secrets— allowing them to kill you and the family.

But you knew better than that. You knew that you'd be saved.

The gunshots and cries for help weren't unexpected from above the dark bunker.

With an ear-piercing creak, the door swings open and the shadow of a man emerges through the doorstep, shoes squeaking with fresh blood underneath.

He doesn’t let out a single word as he kneels to grab your face and examine it. Your attention follows the ring on his finger. An insignia that he is part of the family. You can depend on him.

But still, you wince, sharply inhaling as his fingers aggravate your wounds.

“Don’t get their blood in my wounds, I don’t know what kind of freaks they are,” You grumble, voice husky from days of screaming.

You let him turn your head, retaining eye contact with the floor as you grit your teeth.

“Relax,” he mumbles, “I don’t bite.”

He leans closer to examine your wounds. “You took a lot of hits. How many people are here?”

He draws back as you reply, “Can’t tell you exactly.”

“About four of them grabbed me while I was leaving the house— stupid on their part, no wonder you were here so shortly,” You trail off before catching yourself back on topic.

“But I’ve only seen three different men since I’ve been here. Only to beat me and interrogate me. Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything to put Daddy at risk.”

“I heard two other unrecognizable voices. That would make nine people in the building that I know of. Of course, there could always be more. How many did you shoot?”

“Six,” he responds before looking down at your scrapes and wounds again.

You feel him caress your cheek once more, his cold skin sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re in bad shape.”

“If there’s more here, we need to get out as soon as possible. We can worry about my wounds as soon as these people aren’t on our ass.”

You struggle in your bounds, the ropes burning your already bloody wrists, “Could you untie me, first?”

“Don’t move.”

You obey his command, halting as he unties the ropes, uncovering the painful burn marks and blisters.

“That fucking hurt,” you rotate your wrists, “I could’ve gotten out without your help eventually, though.” Your voice is rough, breath coming out in harsh, sharp drags.

“Sure, you would’ve.”

You stumble to your feet as he pulls you into him for safety. He reeks of gunpowder and high-dollar cologne— presumably something that Daddy has made sure that he has the money for.

“Stay close to me, when we get to the front, you go out first and then I’ll leave right after.”

You follow the unfamiliar man out of the maze, almost slipping on the floor blanketed in blood.

You adjust to the bright sunlight— and it feels gentle against your damaged skin. It seems like time has stood still while you were captured. “Did Daddy order you a car?”

“Yes,” he answers, “Some men are waiting out front to take us to the closest hospital— which isn’t too far.”

“I’m being hospitalized?” You follow him into the backseat, finally slacking for a moment ontop of the fresh leather.

“It’s not my choice to have you taken to the hospital, it’s the orders.”

“Do I have a statement to tell the nurse?” You look at him in concern.

“Am I supposed to say, ‘Oh, I was kidnapped by Daddy’s enemies! By the way, he’s in the mafia! Who wants to arrest Daddy?’”

“Tell them you fell down the stairs.” His flat tone contrasts your own, remaining unfazed.

“How would that cover up my wrists' burn marks?” You hold up the bloody and bruised dents, “Nobody gets these from falling down the stairs. There's way too much blood— and some of it isn’t even mine.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking over to the burn marks on your wrist and then back to you.

“Then tell them you accidentally burnt yourself while cooking.”

“Are you even listening to me? Are you stupid?”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, not seeming to care about the situation.

“It’s not hard to pay them to be silent.”

“How about I tell them that I was heavily bullied at school and a couple of classmates did this to me? I think that could work.”

You two arrive at the front entrance of the emergency room, he follows behind you, strolling through the automatic door.

“I’m fine, really, I was just beaten by classmates,” You lie through your teeth to the front desk, “My boyfriend took me here to get it checked out.”

He raises an eyebrow.

You comply with the nurses as they check your weight and interview you.

“I don’t have any stab wounds, at least I don’t think so— I don’t remember what they did to me. I was held captive for a few,” Your voice trails off as you wince at a sudden pang.

You glance down at your bleeding side and are unexpectedly whacked with all of the distress that you had been repressing at once.

Your vision starts to fade, face pale as a ghost.

The man rushes over as they carry you to a bed, and he kneels beside you to review your condition. Your body is pale and cold, breathing jagged and rapid.

You hear the whispers of the staff panicking. One nurse checks your pulse, and another elevates your legs.

“I need my blood sugar up,” the first words that come out of your mouth sound weak and painful.

You look over at the man beside you.

You need to lie. But you don’t even know his name.

“Boyfriend,” you determine, “please get me a sugary drink from the vending machine.”

A subtle smirk forms upon his lips, but it vanishes as soon as it appears.

“Fine,” he rises to his feet.

You hiss as the nurses sterilize your wounds, shrieking and thrashing on the mattress at the sting. You try to stay still, but the pain is intolerable.

Footsteps echo and you find the man returning with a chocolate bar, which he holds out to you. He brings it close to your lips and holds the chocolate against your mouth for you to take a bite, “Slowly.”

“I told you to get me a drink,” You disregard his command, biting the chocolate quickly, almost aggressively.

His lips turn up, amused by your action.

The nurses finish stitching up your deep gashes and bandaging your wounds, recommending that you stay the night.

“Pay for the bill with Daddy’s cash and let’s get out of here,” you state coldly, “I need to shower and get all of this blood out of my hair. I don’t want to stay here.”

“As long as you can walk by yourself, we can leave right away.” He replies. The man takes out a wad of bills quickly counts the money and pays for the bill.

You stay speechless until entering the car.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your bodyguard. Your father hired me to look out for you after the kidnapping.”

You nod in acknowledgment. “Will you be staying at the estate with me? Or is it a ‘only when I leave the house’ kind of deal?”

“My primary duty is to protect you from anyone or anything that could harm you, whether that be outside or inside the house. I could go wherever you wish me to follow you, and I will be there.”

“You won’t sleep in bed with me though, right?”

He stays silent for a moment.

“You are correct, I am here to protect, nothing more. I will not sleep next to you. I am merely your bodyguard and take your orders.”

“Good boy,” you grin, “I bet Daddy will pay you very nicely. Why else would you take this job? How much does he give you? Either way, I’m sure you have enough to buy a mansion.”

The bodyguard holds back an eye roll. “I will have more than enough money. Not only that but he also provides me with a home.” He adds with a smirk.

“Good.” You reply.

You fall silent, allowing him to drive, taking in the past few days.

You were never worried about surviving, You understood that Daddy would handle it. But you didn’t expect to be as hurt as you were.

He could’ve saved you sooner.

“When we get home, order the chef to make me something sweet, I deserve a treat,” you state, “I’m going to shower and you are not allowed to enter my bathroom under any circumstance. Even if I’m dying.”

“You would die before letting me enter your bathroom? I get it.” He retorts.

Once you both arrive at the estate, you stumble out of the car. You don’t linger for him.

You’re welcomed by a handful of workers as you enter the home, but ignore them as you make a beeline up the stairs and towards the bedroom.

The door locks behind you and the room is silent. You feel the weariness creep on as your wounds sting. You lean against the door, sliding down.

After a moment of peace, you head towards the shower to comb the dried blood out of your hair.

You scrub your face carefully, avoiding the stitches above your eyebrows.

You wash your body entirely, removing the blood stains with soap, water, and a wash rag. Then you comb out the dried blood.

Once you finish, you dry yourself off and dress in a plain, silk nightdress.

Leaving your bedroom, you turn to look for your guard. He is at the doorway of your room when you walk out. His eyes roam around your body for a brief moment, examining the nightgown.

“Do you require assistance?”

“Did you place an order for something sweet, like I asked?” You peer at his suit, moving in to adjust his tie.

He follows your hand as it moves, eyeing you for a few moments before he utters, “I did, the chef will be bringing it to your room once it’s prepared.”

“Good boy.”

You look up at his face once you are pleased with the positioning. You grimace at his sharp, cold face. The blood was dried, brown, and unpleasing. The man’s hand relaxes on the gun holstered on his hip.

“I order you to come into my bedroom.”

His eyebrows crease. He understands his role as your bodyguard— nonetheless, he doesn’t get a kick out of being ordered around in this tone.

He takes a deep breath. “Your wish is my command.”

The room is massive, a silk-covered canopy bed sits in the center of it. He pays no mind to looking around, concentrating on the job at hand.

“Sit down on my bed,” you demand, steering towards the bathroom and pushing open the double doors.

He obeys your orders without question, crossing his legs, and keeping his hand resting beside his gun.

The bodyguard keeps a close, attentive eye on the doors, supervising the way that you soak a washrag with warm water, squeezing out the excess.

You sit beside him, grabbing his chin and leaning into his face. He tenses.

“Relax, I don’t bite,” you smirk, reiterating his first words from the moment he met you back to him, massaging the dried blood off of his face, “No guard of mine will have a messy appearance.”

You can tell that he feels uneasy, but he can’t reject you. If you wish for him to relax, he will make an effort to relax.

You can’t help but notice his complexion when he isn’t scowling. The apathy melts away as you wipe the dried blood, giving you a new perspective on his appearance.

“You’re handsome,” you state bluntly, “Especially without blood covering your face.”

You toss the rag into the laundry basket carelessly, waiting for a maid to take care of it.

“Thank you.”

“What is your name? You never told me.”

His eyebrows arch slightly at the question.“It’s Minho.”

“I am Y/N,” You reply, holding out your hand to shake his own. His grip is firm and warm.

He keeps a stoic face as he glances at your face and back at your hand, as if he is searching for an ulterior motive behind this handshake.

The food.

The bell rings and the sound of it shatters the stillness of the room. Minho’s head jolts towards the door, hand back on his gun.

He rises instantly, opening it to reveal the maid with a tray of sweet snacks.

He takes it from her. “I will bring it in.”

“What a good boy, Minho,” you praise, clapping your hands together as he sets the tray on your lap.

“I don’t take you for a man who enjoys sweet food much. Do you like sweets?”

“Sometimes.”

You unwrap a piece of high-dollar chocolate, “I command you to open your mouth.”

Minho can’t deny you, it would be disobeying your orders.

He opens his mouth as the chocolate is positioned between his lips.

You relish in the chocolates with Minho and once finished, you set the tray on the floor for a maid to pick up at sunrise.

“I don’t think I mind you being around all that much, Daddy makes good decisions.” You lay down on the mattress.

“Your father does make good decisions.”

His gaze wavered on your face until you drifted off to sleep. Only then did they slowly trail down to your body.

The way your body was built captivated him. Minho was glued to your sleeping form.

He stayed in the room, taking a seat on a chair in the corner to watch you.

He didn’t know how long it had been since you had dozed off, but by the way that the room was now pitch black and noiseless aside from your figure rising and falling, he would imagine that it had been a couple of hours.

“How long are you going to sit there?” Your sleep-filled voice questions him, causing him to snap out of his daze, hand reaching for his gun out of instinct.

“Do you sleep? Are you allowed to sleep?”

“I will only remain in the room as long as you order me to. I do sleep,” He replies, “Now is there anything else you need my assistance with? Or can I return to my duties?”

“So you’re only staying in the room because I ordered you two hours ago?” There’s a tinge of dismay in your voice, but it was masked by sleep, “You can leave if you want, I don’t mind.”

Minho felt a sudden pit in his stomach. You sounded disappointed by his statement.

Your words are perplexing him, and he can’t conclude what you want from him. To stay or to go?

“Should I stay for a bit longer?”

You were already asleep again once he had responded.

You and Minho both wake to a maid opening the blinds and ringing a bell. You groan, stretching your body.

“Miss, let’s get you dressed for today.”

She pulls your nightgown up above your head as Minho’s eyes wander toward your laced underwear.

“What’s on my schedule for today?”

He quickly forces his gaze to look away and stares back at the maid.

“We want you to heal from your injuries, miss,” she answers, “we will start with a nutritious breakfast to encourage recovery, and attend to your injuries, and then you will speak with Daddy about your incident.”

The maid buttons your fitted dress, glancing in Minho’s direction, “Your bodyguard will need to be there for your conversation with Daddy.”

“He will?”

“He needs to tell Daddy what he witnessed from the facility.”

You nod, following her lead down the stairs and towards the breakfast table.

Minho follows suit, remaining at your side the entire time and he watches you eat, staying observant and cautious.

“Are you hungry?”

This question catches Minho off guard.

“No.” He adds in a dull tone— but in actuality, he is starving. He was entrusted to watch over you. He shouldn’t eat on the clock.

“Maid, go order,” You look Minho up and down, “A side of crepes. Blueberry crepes. And two cups of coffee.”

The maid hurries to the kitchen to place the order, and it is brought out a couple of minutes later.

He stares at the crepes being placed on the table, and his belly grumbles. “Thank you.”

The maid carries the mugs of coffee to the table. But it doesn’t take Minho long to catch sight of her cunning smile and the perplexing liquid that the maid slipped into the mugs of coffee.

He stares quietly, calculating his next action.

“Don’t drink it.”

“Why not?”

Minho’s sight narrows as you bring the cup of coffee to your lips.

This time, his tone is warning and direct. “It’s better that you don’t.”

You halt your sip at his harsh command.

The maid pulls out a handgun swiftly after realizing that she has been caught, aiming it at you.

A switch swiftly flips inside of him.

He lunges forward, grabbing the woman’s wrist and twisting the gun to the right, snapping a couple of fingers in the process.

It’s a rapid movement, and he had little time to think before shooting her in the head, watching the life leave her body. His face is apathetic and almost casual.

The maid’s blood spilled onto the floor as the others ran to clean it up.

“He passed the test, we can keep him. A promising guard so far,” Daddy compliments from behind you, “Urgently acting to protect. He knew that she was mindless and weak. He comprehends crises well.”

The older man slips a wad of cash into the breast pocket of Minho’s suit. “Good on protecting her. That was a setup with a stupid maid who was just aching to betray us. You will have the same fate if you are wavered by another team.”

“I think he’s a good boy. He won’t betray me.”

“Y/N, meet me at my office. Guard, follow her.” He swiftly turns away to lead the two of you as you eye Minho.

“You can relax now. No more tests.”

He nods in understanding, heeding silently towards the office.

“Tell me about what you saw at the facility.”

You nod. “Four men had taken me from our garden entrance and used Chloroform to knock me unconscious. I woke up in their van, where my hands and legs were tied. I heard them talking about what they planned to get out of me. They had intentions of murdering me if they got to a week of no answers.”

Minho listens to your explanation with hawk-like eyes, paying close attention to all the details and descriptions.

You clear your throat, running your fingers across your bruised wrist, “I was tied to a chair in their questioning room, and they used forms of torture for me to open up.”

“I was deprived of sleep and beaten if they caught me closing my eyes— trying to get my lack of sleep to cause me to open up about your activities.”

Daddy nodded solemnly, leaning into his chair.

“Waterboarding was their favorite method, but they enjoyed beating me. I assume that was mainly for fun.”

You continued, “Minho appeared and killed a couple of them and saved me, but most are still alive.”

“Still alive? You didn’t find and kill them, bodyguard, why?” Daddy’s intense eyes moved toward Minho, who appeared unbothered.

The fact that he missed a few guys is enough to drive him crazy.

“I had to get her to safety as soon as possible.”

Daddy merely nods. “I will send my men after them. Y/N, did you get any names?”

“They wouldn’t tell me anything about themselves, but I saw a couple of signs of their rival gang.”

“Guard,” he veered towards Minho, “Describe the faces that you saw. I need as much information as possible.”

“They look to be between the ages of 20 to 30, their faces covered in scars. One man had dark skin, and his facial scars were faded. His most notable feature was a slit across his brow. He wore a dark suit. I left him alive but with a bullet in his arm. The other man had a lighter skin tone and his scars were similar to knife wounds. He had gotten away.”

The boss nods.

“Good. I can work with that. Never let my little girl get into trouble like that again, alright?”

The second the words ‘my little girl’ leave his mouth, Minho can’t help but gaze at you. He observes your reactions and motions.

His heart beats by hearing his boss call you that, and his attention is now focused on every single twitch that you make.

“The nurses will be waiting in her bedroom shortly. Be good and do as they say.” He adds, snapping Minho back to him.

“Guard, do not let her go against any of the nurses' rules. She can be convincing. Do not give into it.”

“Yes Sir.”

You roll your eyes, turning away to leave the room.

“Stay safe.” That is the last utterance of the boss before you drag Minho out of the room and towards the bedroom.

“Sit on the bed,” a nurse commands you, and you quickly obey.

She dabs at your abdomen stitches with antiseptic soap and your eyebrows furrow.

“You can’t move around much, got it? No exercising for three weeks until we get these stitches out.”

You agree as she moves on to your wrists, rubbing cream into them, “You’re going to visit us twice a day for six days until the healing is almost complete.”

She yanks a bandage off of your face, causing you to groan in pain. She rubs another ointment on it before substituting it with fresh dressing.

Minho supervises each step that the nurse takes, noticing how she takes care of your body as if it’s her most precious gift.

She turns to Minho, “I need you to make sure that she’s well rested, drinking enough water, and not doing many straining activities. Take her back here once again in the evening, and then we will see her again this time tomorrow morning, got it?”

“Yes, I will take care of her.”

“What about him, nurse?” You eye the small cuts across his face and hands.

She smiles and leans over to you. “He is well trained. Trust me, he’ll survive a few scratches.”

Your eyes narrow. “I order you to treat his wounds to the best of your abilities.”

She sighs. “Yes ma’am.”

She moves towards Minho and checks his wounds, patching the ones that were newly caused. She brushes his face softly with an ointment.

“I don’t like it when my guards don’t keep up a good appearance,” you try to explain away your worry for him, “and being injured will only slow you down when protecting me.”

The man stares straight ahead, listening carefully. “I’m fine. I’ll recover just fine. I don’t need much care as you do.”

“Let her rest now,” the nurse tells Minho, “order the maids to bring her a glass of water and have her sip on it until lunchtime.”

Once she leaves, Minho turns towards you, “I’ll make sure the maids bring you water. You need to stay hydrated”

Once water is on your table, your gaze returns to Minho

“Now, I order you to sit down on my bed with me.”

He examines you with a neutral expression and waits for you to say what you mean, not wishing to assume or take anything wrongly.

“Sit down with me,” you demand again, patting the spot beside you, waiting for him to follow suit.

As soon as you ask him to, Minho does not waver. He sits down beside you, body brushing your own.

You turn to meet his cold expression with intensity. “Do you like your job so far?

Minho is taken off guard by your switch of topic. He stays where he is sitting, but turns his body as well and faces you.

“I enjoy my duties.”

“Good. Because I’m fond of you. You’re handsome, and you are good at your job.”

He stares at you with slight surprise. “Thank you.”

Your hands grab for his, playing with the ring on his finger.

Then, you reach your hands higher, tugging his sleeve up to reveal a cluster of scars littered across his forearm.

“How long have you been in the business?”

“Since I was fourteen. I was trained from a very young age.”

“Have you always been in Daddy’s family?”

“I was loyal to your Daddy from the moment I knew what this life was like. I haven’t had a moment of doubt.”

“Good. That means you won’t leave us, right?”

“I will serve your family until my last breath. You have nothing to fear about that.”

“What a good boy,” you reach to ruffle his hair, landing a swift kiss on his sliced cheek. “That’s exactly what I like to hear.”

Minho stiffens.

“I order you to take off your jacket. I want to see your body. To see if you’re strong enough to be a good guard.”

Your words are sharp as a knife and they cut deep through his defense system. His jaw clamps and his breathing accelerates.

Minho swallows his breath, nodding his head. His movements are rigid, starting to cautiously peel off his jacket. It takes him a moment to unbutton it, but once his jacket is off, he stays there, waiting.

You slide his jacket to the floor, touching the muscles of his bicep through his button-down. “You’re fit. That’s good.”

Minho yearns for you to keep feeling him. To keep praising him. He swallows. Your words sound like a honey trap to him, and it’s working as intended.

“I order you to take off your tie.”

“Yes.”

That is all that he says, slowly slipping his tie from underneath his collar and tossing it aside.

Unexpectedly, you’re climbing on top of his body. “Take off your button-down.”

He unbuttons his shirt as your eyes sear into his chest. He is now only wearing a black undershirt.

“So many clothes,” you sigh out, groping his bare arms. You run your hands across his biceps, listening to him shudder underneath the touch.

“Take off your undershirt now. I want to see your chest.”

You can feel the heat radiating off him as he shivers. His body is now sensitive, and your hands are making it worse for him.

Your orders are evident, and he hastily lifts off his undershirt, waiting for what is next.

You can see his whole chest with all of its blemishes, with every muscle covered in sweat, exposed for you.

Your hands travel down his chest and abdomen, feeling each ragged scar with your bruised fingers. The delicate contact causes his breath to catch and a soft groan leaves him, fighting to not show that he relishes in your touch.

“Let me kiss you.”

He stares at you for a moment before his eyebrows slightly shift— his way of showing you that he approves of that request.

Minho leans in slightly and closes his eyes, gently placing a timid kiss on your lips.

You smirk against him, pushing him to lie against the bed frame and deepening the kiss. Your hands reach for his dark hair, clasping a handful in your grip.

He kisses you deeply and wraps his arms around you to pull you in closer, offering full control to you. His breath speeds up.

You pull away after a moment, lips brushing against his as you catch your breath, but only for an instant before moving towards his jaw, sucking marks onto his skin.

Minho quivers at your touch, his breathing speeding up once more as you leave red and purple blemishes on his skin. He bites his lip to stop himself from groaning.

Your mouth moves from his jaw to his neck, leaving kisses and hickeys all across him, making sure that he is covered in them.

Your hips grind against him, breathing heavily with anticipation as you make your way to his chest.

Your hands and mouth are touching all of him, and each sensation triggers a reaction that he tries to conceal.

Your lips hover back to his lips, staring at him longingly. “Do I have to command you for you to do anything to me? You don’t have to ask. You have my permission. Do whatever you want.”

You can see his gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth, to your neck, and then towards your chest.

You swiftly lift yourself off of him to let him remove your dress, leaving your body as bare as his own.

You grasp onto his neck, bringing him in for another deep kiss. Minho remains silent as he kisses you, allowing you to leave him as many marks as you desire.

“What are you thinking, Minho? Speak to me.”

He takes a moment, letting out an unstable breath. “I’m thinking of what you are doing to me. I,” he stammers, “I want to make you feel good.”

“Then do it. Please.”

“I don’t want to harm you,” he breathes out, “you’re injured.”

“The nurses said to not do,” Minho presses his eyes shut as you bring your hips up to meet his, “fuck, anything straining.”

“Remember what Daddy said? I can be convincing.” You sneer as your bodyguard fails to keep his cool composure, but the aching cock pressing into you is giving his true desires away.

You eye his internal struggle between following your orders and his cravings, or the nurse and his boss.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I can go relieve myself in the bathroom.”

“I like being hurt.”

You notice his lip twitch at the comment, and you decide to provoke him further, grinding into him, and set a steady rhythm with your hips.

He groans as his head drops back, tugging onto your hair and trying desperately to control his breath, “Please, Y/N, I just want to take care of you.”

“You can take care of me in another way.”

“I need to follow orders.”

“Then I order you to fuck me.”

His eyes pinch shut as he tries to clear his head and reason with himself.

Perhaps if he were gentle, it would be alright.

But how long could he remain gentle when you were splayed out in front of him, willing to take anything that he gave to you?

He made his decision, gripping your shoulders gently and flipping you, pinning you to the bed, and surveying your face for any discomfort.

When he finds none, he impatiently unclasps his belt, throwing it to the floor along with his dress pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

You hold yourself up by your elbows, thighs pressed together and mouth watering at the man in front of you.

His hands were delicate, although they could easily snap you in half, as he unclasped your bra, leaving your top half bare.

Minho stopped to take in the view for a moment before grabbing at one of your breasts, his mouth attaching to the other.

Your whines were like music to him— something that he wanted to hear more of.

Your back arched in pleasure as he moved one hand down to your thigh, caressing it for a moment before slowly slipping his hand into your panties.

“Try to stay quiet, darling, I don’t want any staff checking on us,” He hushed you with his lips attaching to your own once again, feeling your wetness all over his calloused hands.

His thumb brushed against your clit and you whimpered into his mouth, clenching around nothing.

Minho then plunged two fingers deep inside of you and curled them. He was becoming lost in pleasing you, overlooking his own ache between his legs.

Your thighs shook beneath him, feeling him brush against your g-spot brutally. “Minho please, please just fuck me. I want you inside of me so bad.”

At your request, he slipped his fingers out, feeling your cries against his lips from the loss of friction.

“Yes ma’am.” He pulled away from your lips, replacing them with his now dripping fingers, lapping it up with his tongue.

Next, your ruined panties were yanked off of you, with his boxers soon to come after.

One hand gently relaxes on your hips, cautious to avoid aggravating your injuries as he uses the other to guide himself inside of you, a deep groan followed by your whines.

He gives you a moment to handle the stretch, but you hardly need it, already begging for him to move.

Minho cautiously thrusts, taking in a deep breath and furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. 
This is the ultimate test of patience for him. He needs to be as gentle as possible with you.

Ultimately, he sets a slow pace, hands locating themselves on either side of you, letting out uneven breaths as he tries to control himself from how good you feel around him.

“You really do care, don’t you?” Your hand reaches to cup his face, gazing into his eyes that are hazy with pleasure.

He keeps his response short, too concentrated on the waves of bliss through each thrust, “I do care.”

“Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?”

You study him, watching his adam’s apple move as he swallows deeply, inhaling sharply. He halts his thrusts for a brief instant.

“Both, maybe. I can’t tell.”

That was enough for you to continue, grabbing another handful of his hair and bringing him in for another hungry, deep kiss.

With each deep thrust, Minho’s mind got hazier and hazier, losing himself to pleasure bit by bit. You could feel it by the way his rhythm became rough and desperate, and his pace picked up.

One of his hands left your side, creeping towards your throbbing clit, causing you to let out sobs, all of which he ate up with his mouth against your own.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He coos, knowing that you’re too lost in bliss to respond.

He takes your whines as a ‘yes’, his thumb rubbing circles faster, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing your eyes closed and letting out a lengthy, drawn-out moan as his pace picked up even further.

“Just like that. You’re so good for me, so, so good, fuck,” he talked you through your orgasm between his thrusts, chasing his own high.

His brows crease, hips stuttering at how good it felt to have you gripping so tightly onto his cock. Finally, he let go, his load spilling inside of you and seeping out.

Both of you took an instant to catch your breath, coming down from your highs.

His hands slowly traced your curves in contentment, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell.

Finally, he has a justification to gape at your body up close.

From your jawline to your hickey-covered chest, down to your bruised sides and stitches near your abdomen, and— Oh fuck.

Your wounds.

Minho slowly pulls away, feeling a sense of post-nut clarity and fright.

His hand slides away from your body, staring at you with concern.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, your own anxiety suddenly displayed on your face, “Do you regret it?”

“No! No,” He panics, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?“

Back in reality now, your wounds ache and your head pounds with exhaustion and overexertion.

His mind calculates the solutions to the situation— ways to explain to the nurses, to fix you, to help you feel better.

It was his shortcoming, after all. He let his urges get to him.

“Let’s run you a bath.” He pulls himself up, tugging on his boxers and heading towards the bathroom.

You hear the tap turn on, lying in bed trying to catch your breath. Your breath is harsh from both adrenaline and pain, but you can’t help but feel as though the latter is more of the cause.

You had slept with a small handful of men, primarily Daddy’s men, but none of them were quite like Minho.

He was tough but breakable. He was still kindhearted at his core— something that wasn’t all that common in the business.

You could tell from the way that he ran the bath, bare muscles glistening from sweat, running his hand through the water to make sure that it was the ideal temperature. How concerned he was about your protection, even through his pleasure.

Not many other men that you’ve met throughout your life have been the same way.

You’re quite fond of the man that you have just met.

You hear the water shut off and footsteps coming towards the room. He holds a faint smile as his steps come towards the bed. Your gaze slowly wanders to his physique.

“It’s ready for you.” He says in a slight whisper.

“I order you to pick me up and bring me to the bath.”

He nods at your order, hooking his arms underneath your thighs and back, his strong grip securing you.

You inhale the powerful stench of gunpowder stuck to his skin, finding comfort in your bodyguard’s presence.

“Will you wash my hair?”

Studying his expression, it’s hard to read, but you let him carry you and place you into the water.

‘I do care,’ you recall his words.

‘Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?’ ‘Both, maybe. I can’t tell.’

Perhaps you had feelings for the man, especially while he massaged shampoo into your scalp with tough hands, making sure to rub your temples.

“Have you ever been a bodyguard before?”

When Minho hears your question, he hums while he proceeds to wash you, working on scrubbing the areas where he touched you earlier. “No, you’re the first one I’ve been a bodyguard for.”

“I did things for your father before this. Not as a bodyguard, a more, I guess, dangerous role,” he dismisses the question.

“Is that so?” You fall to silence as he continues to wash you, taking his time and guaranteeing that he gets every part. He hesitates when he washes around your injuries— every stroke and movement of his hands is smooth and temperate.

“Let me relax for a minute alone,” you murmur, “You should put your clothes back on, the maids should be here any moment to take my order for lunch. They won’t find it suspicious that I’m bathing, but they will question why you’re with me.”

Minho nods and pulls away from your body.

He stands up and his feet splash on the wet floor. He takes a double take at your closed eyes.

The way your body floats in the bath is something that catches his attention. You look very pleasing in such a vulnerable position.

He leaves the room, cracking the door to make sure that you are safe.

Minho buttons up his wrinkled shirt, pulling the jacket over it and smoothing it out to ensure that nobody suspects anything.

Minho’s eyes turn to the maid who enters the room with the ring of a bell.

His demeanor is unfazed, a hand on the gun in his pocket once more. He holds eye contact, his stare intense.

He would make sure that there wasn’t another incident.

“Where is Miss Y/N?”

“She is bathing at the moment.”

She nods, walking towards the bathroom and knocking on the door.

You hum, allowing her to enter.

“What would you like for lunch, ma’am?”

“I don’t know, surprise me.”

A few seconds go by as you immerse yourself entirely in the water before rising back to the surface.

“Minho,” you call out, “What would you like?”

You hear the faint sigh that Minho gives as a response back to your question.

“I’ll just have a sandwich or something, whatever you have is fine.” He replies to both you and the maid as she exits the bathroom, fulfilling her duty of reporting your lunch choice.

The bedroom door shuts behind her.

“Minho!” You call out once again, “I order you to take me out of the bath.”

A few seconds pass before you hear Minho’s footsteps come near the bathroom once again. He grabs a towel as you stand, body bare and dripping with water.

His eyes have an intense focus as he reaches out his hand.

Minho pulls you up from the bath wraps the towel around you, making sure to cover all of you, and begins to dry off your hair.

“Minho,” you begin, “Daddy can’t know about what happened. He’d shoot you dead on the spot.”

Minho pauses for a moment, his eyes darting across the floor.

He is silent for a moment. “I won’t reveal anything to him.”

“Good boy,” you cling to the towel covering your body, “Go fetch a maid to dress me. While she does so, I want you to change out of that suit and shower before lunch.”

“Then I’ll go shower now. I’ll be back.”

You hum in agreement, stepping towards your bedroom as a maid rings the bell.

You drop your towel, letting her sift through your drawers to find decent clothing.

She eyes a hickey on your breast, along with the other injuries across your body from the kidnapping.

“Your injuries look agitated, Miss Y/N, are you sure that a bath was the best idea for you?”

“Don’t question me,” you grumble, “I took a bath because I wanted to.”

“Yes, miss.” She pulls the dress above your head smoothes it out, and clasps a necklace behind your neck.

“You’re all set for lunch.”

The moment that you come out of your room, you can feel his presence. He is leaning against the front door of the room with an unreadable expression.

He has another suit on, a fresh one. Minho’s previously muskier, dark scent has been replaced by a new, sweeter fragrance.

“First shower at the estate?” You question, “Our soaps are quite lovely and mild on the skin. You smell wonderful.”

Minho’s lips curl at the compliment, looking you up and down, “Seems that we both are putting our best foot forward.”

You look around to see if anyone is watching before leaning to ruffle his damp hair and leave a kiss on his cheek, taking the man by complete surprise. He makes an effort to regain his composure, but you can see that his cheeks are blushed from the touch.

As soon as you lean in to lock arms, you feel him lean over to you to whisper something.

“I would love to do that with you again.”

You froze in your spot, heat rushing to your thighs.

You must regain your composure, caught off guard by his blunt words, something unlike the ordinary nature of Minho.

He takes a seat across from you, watching every move that the maid makes to be sure that she doesn’t try anything— he has learned his lesson.

“Pressed Italian Picnic Sandwiches and tea,” The maid states, setting the plates on the table.

You scrunch my nose up. “What’s in it?”

“Artisanal prosciutto, aged provolone, and sun-dried tomatoes inside of a crusty ciabatta,” She doesn’t hesitate to list the ingredients, “and a fragrant blend of rare loose-leaf teas with fresh cream and sugar cubes.”

She sets the teapot and cups out, along with a carton of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes.

Minho’s hand rests on his gun, waiting for her to leave before taking a sip of tea.

You follow his action, dumping a couple of cubes into your tea and bringing it to your lips.

I finish my lunch with Minho.

“Let’s go back to my room now. I'm exhausted.”

Minho nods his head and you both finish up the meals quickly.

You both leave the dining area and stroll back to your bedroom.

As soon as you get back into the room, you feel Minho close the door behind you.

You don’t hesitate to climb into bed and lie down.

The guard looks over at you, observing the way that your chest rises and falls as you breathe. He notices every movement that your body is making.

“I command you to lay down with me.” You lean back against the bed, your body still and eyes focused on his unmoving body.

He slips off his shoes silently, slipping into the canopy bed.

You grin, curling at his side, pressing against his body.

His breathing is deep and steady as he struggles to get into a more comfortable position.

Your mind began racing with questions about the mysterious man that you were slowly falling for, burying yourself further into the sheets.

“Minho,” you start slowly, “How did you become tangled with our family?”

Minho stays silent for a few moments and you feel his body shift a little against yours.

“I didn’t have a lot of money or family growing up,” he kept his answer short and simply, “the moment that this job came my way, I took it. The people connected to this business have always stayed on the down low, so this is an easy job to keep."

“Daddy seems to like you,” you grit your teeth.

Minho turns to you on the bed and sits up a little. He looks at you from top to bottom, reading the worry on your face with ease.

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“He will kill you on the spot if he finds out. He’s done that to almost every man who has flirted or slept with me.”

You pause for a moment. “God forbid the one he hired as my bodyguard.”

“I am not so easily killed.” The words leave his mouth with a tinge of arrogance.

“I trust you.”

“Good.”

There is stillness between you both for a time, but he breaks it by grabbing your chin and leaning in to kiss you. You soothe into his touch, smiling against his lips briefly before he pulls away.

“I order you to stay here. Like this.”

It’s not difficult for you to drift off to sleep beside him, and as always, Minho pursues your request, keeping a close eye on you. You relax, your breathing slow, and he notes all of the occasional twitches and movements that you make in your sleep.

A couple of hours later, the door is knocked on by a maid.

“Dinner order?”

Minho jolts awake from the knock on the door, a hand swiftly placed on your shoulder to protect you from any threats before turning his head towards the noise.

His voice is full of sleep. “Repeat that?”

As she opens the door, there is a look of inquiry on her face, one that she won’t ask to ensure her job and health.

“Is she asleep?” She questions instead, glancing over at your peaceful figure.

He turns his head towards you to double-check, observing your napping body.

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll advise the chef to prepare her dinner later tonight.”

She gives a sharp nod to the guard and scurries out of the room, quietly shutting the door to not disturb the girl.

Minho’s eyes rest on the door for a moment, fully alert now with a hand resting on his gun.

Eventually, he turns over to you. He has his eyes on you for a few seconds before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, letting out a small sigh.

You stir at the warm touch, scrunching your face up and stretching your body.

“What time is it?” You ask groggily before burying your head into his neck.

“Dinner is in about half an hour. You hungry?”

“Not really,” you pull yourself up and rub your sleep-filled eyes.

He notices your body shiver as you pull yourself up. Minho lets out a short exhale.

“Did you sleep?”

“A bit.” He doesn’t look away or turn his head as he admires the way you stand and stretch your body, smoothing your dress of its wrinkles.

You walk towards your vanity mirror, plopping down in the chair to readjust your necklace to the center. A few marks on your collarbone catch your eye.

“The nurses will be in shortly.” You grit your teeth. “I hope they don’t notice.”

“They won’t notice.”

His figure can be seen from behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His lips are turned upwards as he watches you fix your appearance.

You pull out a couple of foundations and concealers, working on concealing the marks left from earlier.

“The maids wouldn’t, but the nurses will tell the difference between a hickey and a bruise. Especially since these are fresh.”

Even though you are busy with your makeup and covering up the bruises, Minho’s eyes are never off of you. It is a feeling that you will have to get used to— always having a watchful eye on you.

Once you were satisfied with the coverage, you rose from your seat quickly.

“Get up, we’re going to dinner.”

“So bossy.” He retorts. “What will you have?”

“I want to go out, let’s go somewhere fancy. Daddy will pay.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You want to go out when you have had a beating just two days ago?”

He asks it like he thinks it’s an absurd idea, almost condescendingly, yet his tone of voice is soft and full of concern for you, causing your stomach to flip inside out.

“I’m tired of staying inside already. This estate is suffocating,” you pull on your slip-on shoes.

“That’s how I got myself into this mess in the first place. I left the house and got kidnapped. That won’t happen with you here.”

“I guess you’re right. We’ll go somewhere nice.”

“Good. I’ll go tell Daddy.” You leave the door open for Minho to come after but don’t wait for him, yet you can tell that he follows behind silently, attending to the way your body moves in the dress as you make your way down the halls.

The door is slightly ajar, so when you knock, it pushes open with a creak, revealing your father inside.

Minho stands behind you like a shadow, his lips pressed into a straight line, gaze locked on your father, keeping his distance from the both of you.

“Come inside,” the older man invites both of them with a welcoming grin, “sit.”

You can sense that your father has something on his mind, which is never a good sign.

“I was going to call you to my office shortly, anyway.” Instantly you assume the worst.

You sit down, taking a seat in front of him. Minho is still standing in the back, his priority on you and your father.

The man looks over at Minho. Their eyes lock for a moment. “Guard, go lock the door. There is a conversation that needs to be had.”

Minho nods and he turns his head, locking the door behind him.

He turns his attention back to you, who is frozen in your seat, breath hitching.

The elite man fiddles with a pen at his desk, clicking it to drown out the tense silence.

The silence in the room seems so heavy that you wonder how neither you nor Minho is feeling sick. Judging by the thick atmosphere between the three of you, it is easy to tell that he isn’t pleased right now.

He fidgets with the pen and you wait for him to finally speak.

“Do you find my daughter to be precious, Guard?” He addresses Minho with a stern voice, finally setting the pen down at his wooden desk with a smack.

“Yes sir,” Minho replies flatly.

“Are you willing to protect her at all costs, even at your life?”

After moments of silence, he answers back confidently. “Yes sir. I am.”

A hand comes to rest at his side, toying loudly with a handgun, which he eventually pulls out of his pocket.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, yet Minho stays concentrated. There isn’t a single sign of fear on his face. He is unshaken, calm, and collected as if he had been foreseeing this exact scenario.

“Do you know why you were assigned to guard my daughter, Minho?”

“I know the reasons.”

“There was a leak to the rivals from a previous staff member that I had a precious daughter in my life,” He turns towards you, “the one that I had climbed to the top of my career to protect and assure her safety and security.”

He cleared his throat before darting back to Minho, “It took less than a day for her to be taken from my hands and placed in the hands of one of my greatest enemies.”

Minho pays attention to every word that he speaks and clears his throat, waiting for your father to continue.

“I care for my daughter more than anything in the world. Which is why I had appointed the most valuable, honest, and competent man in the family to ensure her protection.”

Minho nods.

“Please don’t kill him, Daddy.”

The boss meets you with cold eyes, disregarding your words to proceed with his lecture. “You are my most prized possession. I would hurt anyone or anything to make sure that not a single person touches you. The men who kidnapped you are all taken care of, wiped out by my command.”

He continues. “I know everything that goes on in your life. Every meal, every kiss, every injury, the staff must report every minor thing that occurs in your day. I have eyes on you at all times, and you’re more than aware of that.”

Your shoulders stiffen. He knew.

“Minho,” his stare is burning into the other man, “I’ll get to the point. Did you sleep with my daughter?”

He doesn’t blink. His body tenses up and his voice remains neutral.

“Yes.”

The boss turns the safety off of his firearm and you dig your head into your hands, unable to observe the scene that is about to unfold.

The gunshot is fired, but the man deliberately aims to the left of Minho, grazing his cheek with the bullet before standing up instantly from his seat. The guard doesn’t react with more than a blink as the blood pools at the cut.

“I trust you, Minho. You are a good man. If there is a single person who I would choose to give my daughter to, it would be you.”

Finally, Minho takes this as a sign to let his guard down for a moment as his shoulders drop, lip quivering slightly. It was evident that there was more emotion that the guard was holding back, especially when he took a moment to look away.

“You have my approval.”

Your eyes widen.

“Take care of my daughter. If you break her heart, I’ll feed your own heart to her for supper.”

“Understood.”

“Take her to dinner,” a wad of cash is pulled out from one of the drawers, “buy her flowers and anything else that she asks for.”

“Yes sir.” He responds, “I’ll make sure that she gets the treatment that she deserves.”

You run to embrace your father, to which he places an arm around you, rubbing your back before pulling away.

“Get yourself dressed more sufficiently, I will have a car ready for you soon.”

Minho follows you out of his office, letting out a breath that he had been holding in once the door was closed.

“Did you hear that?” Do you know what this means?” You beam at the man before grabbing at his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

He lets out a surprised noise, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing back.

When you break the kiss, he stares back at you with the first big smile that you’ve seen from him displayed on his face.

“Let’s get you ready.”

[temiizpalace]

Can i have Malleus and Leona with prompt 3?

☆┊PUT YOUR HEAD ON MY SHOULDER! NOT HIS! (🐉 vs. 🦁)

SUMMARY: THEY BOTH OFFER HIS SHOULDER TO REST ON. WHO KNEW IT BECAME A FULL BLOWN WAR!

CHARACTERS: malleus draconia vs. leona kingscholar

EVENT MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: no determined end couple, jealousy, crowley sucks at being a guardian 👎👎👎

NOTES: leona suffering chronicles part 3!!! /j tysm for your request!

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

˚∘☆∘˚

helping crowley had many benefits.

weekly payments, a home and shelter, and a beloved father figure. that’s what he claims anyway. however, from yours and grim’s experience, there were also many drawbacks; he forgets to pay you, he forgets about you, you’re his favorite errand runner, and you tend to pull all-nighters in order to finish up his chores.

in short, helping crowley was just asking for a death wish. finally finding some free time in your day to rest, you sat onto a nearby bench hidden by the trees, basking you in some shade.

“urgh.. if i have to run down anymore papers to crewel i think ima be sick.” grim groans, stretching himself into your lap before curling up to nap. “tell me about it.. im sick of being sam’s supplier.” you sigh, leaning your head onto the back of the bench. “child of man? what are you doing outside of class?” a certain prince calls out, suddenly sitting by your side.

“tsunotaro? i could ask you the same question.” you laugh, suddenly snapping yourself awake. “wasn’t there a housewarden meeting today?” you ask, seeing his face twist into a pout. “if that is the case then they have failed to invite me.” he sighs, crossing his arms with a frown.

“seriously? again?” you scoff, shaking your head. “i’ll have a talk with crowley about this when i see him later.” you smile at him, patting his back. “i appreciate it. you’re too kind, really.” malleus looks into your eyes, not being able to resist smiling back at you. as you both continue to converse like normal, you have yawned far too many times for the poor boys liking.

“are you sleeping alright? i believe you yawned at least 10 times during our conversation. are my topics too boring for your liking?” he frets, sudden worry overriding his emotions. were you losing interest in him? are you going to leave him?! oh no. no no no no no no no no—

“why would you think that?! im always interested in what you have to say. crowley has been working me ragged lately, that’s all.” you reassure malleus, giving him a thumbs up as if what you said wasn’t concerning in the least. “why that lousy..” he mutters, eyes narrowing at the facts. how dare that stupid insolent prick drive his poor beloved prefect to the brink of exhaustion. it’s inexcusable.

“im on a break for once, so me and grim were just resting here.” you smile, pointing to your sleepy catlike companion. speaking of catlike companions, leona watched from a faraway tree your little chat with malleus. yuck. he’s already annoyed when you talk to other beastmen, but talking to that horned bastard just left a bad taste in his mouth.

“well, you’re more than welcome to rest on—”

“hey.” leona huffs, plopping himself beside you. malleus’ eye twitched at the sight. are you shitting me. what is he doing here? isn’t there a housewarden meeting for him to attend to? go away. “leona?! shouldn’t you be at the housewarden meeting?” you exclaim, practically taking the words right out of malleus’ mouth.

“mm, ditched. no way am i attendin something stupid like that first thing in the morning.” he shrugs, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable. “looks like someone wasn’t invited.” leona grins, pointing at the obviously annoyed prince sitting beside you. “if you had just come to insult me, then you can take your leave and save it for later, kingscholar.” malleus replies with a polite yet harsh tone.

“not everythin’s about you, lizard. can’t i care for my own underclassmen?” leona frowns, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “..pardon?” malleus furrowed his brow, watching as the lion prince got far too touchy for his taste. “they got eye bags, probably haven’t been sleeping well. since im such a kindhearted senior, i don’t mind if they rest a lil.” he smirks, leaning you onto his shoulder.

“really?!” you shout in disbelief, nearly waking poor grim up. leona was one to never admit to anything, always keeping you guessing. seeing him so.. direct threw you and malleus for a loop. “would you rather rest on tree bark?” he raised a brow, leaning closer to your face. “nope! thanks i guess, leona.” you hastily accept, deciding not to question it.

“thanks for talking to me malleus, it kept me from falling asleep.” you smile, now shutting your eyes. in a matter of seconds, you had already fallen asleep, relieved from all the previous exhaustion. the two princes glared at one another, tensions rising to new heights. “your services are no longer needed, you can go to the housewarden meeting. consider it an invite.” leona chuckles, waving malleus off towards the hallway, earning a genuine look of anger from the usually calm and collected fae.

“i appreciate the sentiment, but i believe the child of man and i were having a heartfelt conversation before you showed up. as king of briar valley, consider yourself excused.” malleus retorts, moving you over onto his shoulder. leona scowls in return to his obvious insult, very gently moving your head back to him. “if i remember right, they chose to lean onto me. not nice taking what’s not yours.”

“don’t act like you didn’t just steal their attention.” malleus scoffs, tugging you back towards him. “why you horned bastard.” leona growls, bearing his fangs at the now smug prince. and so, the game of tug of war began. constant pulling back and forth, back and forth, it was a miracle you hadn’t waken up yet. poor prefect..

HOWEVER, a certain someone else felt the shaking, and just couldn’t stand it. grims eyes flutter open as he looks to the two housewardens tugging you left and right with a frown. “HEY,” grim shouts, startling the two as they looked down. “do ya mind?! some of us need to get a lil shut eye.” he hisses, trying to look at the very least intimidating. “shut it, pipsqueak.” leona grunts, glaring at grim.

“grim, i believe it is best if you don’t intervene.” malleus stated sternly, moving him off of your lap. “HOW DARE YOU! GRIM THE GREAT LISTENS TO NOBODY! [MC]! WAKE UP, WE’RE SLEEPING SOMEWHERE AWAY FROM THESE FREAKS.” grim shrieks, almost rupturing both of their eardrums.

you stir awake at grim’s shrill voice, rubbing your eyes with a grumble before looking downwards. “huh..? oh, tsunotaro? leona? you’re still here?” you mumble, turning your your sides to see the two boys covering their ears. “let’s get outta here and sleep somewhere else. crowley might find us and give us somethin else to do.” grim frowns, tugging your hand.

“alright, alright, jeez. calm down, will ya?” you sigh, reluctantly getting up and following him inside. “i’ll see you both later! don’t go arguing more, ya hear?” you show them a smile before grim drags you out of sight, leaving both boys dumbfounded.

“it’s your fault they left. tch, dumb lizard.” leona grunts, glaring daggers into malleus. “my fault? how about saying that again after i shave off that mane of yours?” he jeers, feeling a vein about to burst. “haah? what was that?!”

they did indeed, argue again.

A/N: three leona requests in a row is crazy 😭😭 he can’t catch a break (imagine leona bald tho)

date published: 8/25/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - DEFEND YOUR HONOUR

A/N: And another one-shot with my precious Logan. This has angst and some fluff. Enjoy!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant! female reader

Warning: angst, some fluff

Words: 3700+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - DEFEND YOUR HONOUR

It was a wild, exhausting day. Well, more like five days. The last time I visited my parents was almost a year ago. They knew nothing about my new life, only the lies I told them.  That’s why I didn’t have time to see them as often as they wanted to. 

I missed them. That’s why I came back. I thought my short vacation with them in my home town would be without incidents and fights. Oh how wrong I was. 

It was eleven in the evening. I was sitting on the front porch, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. The night was cold. Autumn hit with full force. I wished I could return to the place where I felt more at home. Unfortunately, the school was over four hours drive away from my hometown. 

I had my phone in my hands, contemplating whether to call the person who could make me smile or not. My eyes were on the contact name, and I was not sure whether to press the button or forget about it and head back to bed. It was too late for a phone call even when I knew he’d be up. After a couple of deep breaths, I decided to tap the screen and call my boyfriend Logan. 

<< Hey baby. 

Hearing his voice made me smile. Logan picked up the call quickly. “Hi. I hope I didn’t wake you up.” 

<< No, of course not. I’m reading that book you got me before you left. Damn, good choice, baby. 

I laughed. “Yeah, it’s that good? Glad you like it. Maybe I’ll get you to read more. Even if they are historical memoirs or anything that has to do with history. We could start our own club, just the two of us.” I heard him laugh. Quickly, he changed the topic.

<< So, how’s the visit going? Everything good? 

I sighed, not knowing what to say to him. I didn’t want to complain. I already told him something about my parents - how they treat me even when they care about me. My relationship with my family was complicated. “It’s okay,” I said simply. “It’s okay. Really, okay.”

<< One more and I’ll believe ya.

“It is what it is. I always believe it’ll be better and it’s not,” I admitted. “Only two more days and I’ll head to the mansion. I have the bus tickets and everything planned to get back.” 

<< What happened, darlin’? You know you can talk to me.

“I know,” I kept shaking my head, nodding to no one. “I just don’t want to complain. I hate complaining. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” 

<< I get that you hate it. But maybe it’s time you did complain a little. I am here for you, darlin’. I’ll listen and we can talk about it. I don’t want you to feel miserable. Just… can’t believe you decided to visit them when they treat you like shit. 

He was right. They always treated me like shit. As an only child, I was the black sheep of the family. Or they saw me as one. My parents didn’t mind ridiculing me in front of our other relatives or their friends. Even as an adult, they continued to do this to me. I was dumb enough to let them. 

<< Tell me what happened, Y/N.

“We visited my relatives, my father’s sister, and they all ganged up on me,” I said. My voice was low. I whispered most of the time, not to wake anyone up. 

I didn’t trust anyone from my family. They didn’t know I was a mutant, where I was working or that I saved the day multiple times since becoming an X-man. They lost my trust the moment they decided to invade my privacy as a teen and snoop around my messages, diaries and stuff. It wasn’t just that. I was ridiculed for liking books, and for being too excited about the little things in life. My taste for music was weird and laughable. My lack of interest in boys was concerning. It was a whole story. 

“My friend and I wanted to go to a concert in a few months. I got excited someone wanted to attend with me - no, baby, you don’t listen to that kind of music -  and they decided to make me feel miserable for my excitement,” I explained. 

<< Darlin’, why do you always let them do this to you? 

“Because I am dumb,” I rolled my eyes. “Because I hate fights and any type of quarrels. I don’t like conflicts.” 

Logan knew I never mentioned to my family that I was seeing someone. I wasn’t ashamed of the relationship - the opposite, honestly. My family didn’t deserve to know anything about me. 

<< I think it’s time you cut contact with them. I know it sounds horrible when I say it. As If I tried to influence you in some way. Just, fuck, I hate when they make you miserable. Baby, to me, it seems like they don’t care and don’t give a shit about your well-being. 

I knew he was right. And yet, I was afraid to do that step. “They are my parents-”

<<Whom treat you like shit, Y/N. I am so fucking angry at them. I should have come with you. I’d be there to teach them a fucking lesson about respecting the woman I love. 

Those words made me smile. Never in my life have I had someone to defend me like Logan would. The grump, my grump, was there for me when no one was. He was mine for over a year now. 

“You love me, yay,” I said happily. 

<< Baby, you know damn well I love you. I should have been there tonight. I should have been there to let them know how shitty they are. 

I hummed. “That’s okay. I know you’d defend my honour. And I love you for that. I need to survive two more days before I head back to school. The bus drive will be the best thing from this trip.” 

<< The school is your home. So, come back home. Change the bus tickets and leave. I want you here with me, darlin’. 

“No,” I shook my head. “That would be rude. I need to toughen up and survive these last two days. Afterwards, I’m done. Besides, I don’t have a good emergency story.” 

<< You don’t need one. 

“Logan, come on,” I sighed. “I’ll be back in two days. I miss you. Can’t wait to be with you. I’m staying.”

<< Miss you too, darlin’. Two fucking days.

I had to laugh. He was cute and he didn’t know that. After that, we ended the call. I remained sitting on the porch swing, looking at the silent street. Everyone was asleep. The whole neighbourhood calmed down as their residents rested for the night. 

The air got colder, so I moved from the porch, back to my old room and headed to bed. What if I was exaggerating the problem with my parents? What if it was me creating conflict when there wasn’t any? With a heavy sigh, I went to bed. 

The next day was a chaos. Around lunch, my father’s aunt and her family came to the house. “Didn’t your mother tell you? We’ll have lunch together and we wanted to be with you some more before you leave again,” my aunt chuckled at her words. 

“Great,” I said, but I wasn’t thrilled at all.

Her kids were loud, spoilt brats. They’d let them do anything they wanted. It pissed me off. I knew they were my cousins. Unfortunately. As much as I wanted to teach them a lesson and tell them no, their mother would always allow everything. 

Both boys were running around the house, screaming and throwing toys around. To calm them down, they got tablets to do whatever they wanted -  a movie, a game? Why not both? 

Logan was right. I should have left. I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day with them. And with lunch approaching, I knew it would be a stressful one. All the yelling, the bitching and moaning…

We were about to head to the dining table when we heard the doorbell ring once the food was ready to be served. “I’ll get it,” I said. I was the closest to them. 

As I walked to the door, I put my hair in a messy bun, to keep them away when I’d eat. I expected to see a neighbour or another family member that I wasn’t interested in seeing. When I opened the door, I gasped.

“Hey, darlin’.” 

Logan was leaning against the doorframe. He had black sunglasses on his face, dressed in those damn jeans and a green-blue flannel shirt. A brown leather jacket was resting on his shoulders. Dressed to kill… me. Fuck. He looked hot.

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” My eyes widened, lips twitched because they wanted to curl into a smile. I grabbed him by the leather jacket to pull myself closer to him. He smelled like cigars and nice minty body spray. 

“I came to rescue my princess from this hellhole,” he said, voice firm and serious. 

I coughed. “What? Baby, we’re having an unexpected family lunch,” I made a face. “Holy shit, I can’t believe you are here,” I hummed with a smile. “Wait, did you ask Charles to help you get here? You went through my file!” 

“I needed to get here somehow,” said Logan innocently. “And it seems I am on time for lunch. I am starving.”

My mouth dropped to the floor when I heard him say that. I wanted to say something, anything. Unluckily, my mother decided to make herself present by approaching us. “Oh, hello, is everything okay?” she asked us. 

Logan put down his glasses and grinned at my mother. “I came to see your daughter.” 

“Oh?” 

I looked up at the ceiling, cursing mentally. I felt stress crawl up my back. Not because Logan decided to show up. It was my mother’s subtle reactions. How her brows rose, how I could sense the tension in her body. Or was it thrill?

“This… is… Logan,” I lazily turned to my mother. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

“You have a boyfriend?!” she squealed. “And you didn’t tell us?” It seemed she was offended. “You never tell us anything! Ah! This is a big deal. Oh my god!”

Deep breath in and slow exhale. I did it multiple times. Immediately, Logan approached me as I tried to calm myself down. He rested his hand on my lower back. 

One last deep breath. “Uh, we’ll be right there. I need to talk to Logan for a moment, okay?” 

My mother nodded, grinning like a maniac. She clapped her hands and ran back to the dining room. I knew she would let her mouth run wild and comment on what she saw. Lunch was about to turn into a nightmare. 

“You okay, baby?” Logan asked me gently. 

I pushed him outside and closed the door behind us. I was panicking a little. “This day is crazy,” I mumbled. “Oh my god.” I panicked a little. 

As I got closer to Logan, he wrapped his arms around my body, pressing me to his chest. “Everything will be fine,” he assured me. “You angry at me?” 

“No,” I said. “Quite the opposite. I’m glad you are here,” I inhaled his scent which helped me calm down a bit. “Fuck, you are like a gift from heaven. I should have listened to you and headed back to school. I’ve been receiving shit since the very morning. And now, my aunt and her family are here and… I want to run away.” 

He pressed a kiss on top of my head. “So, let’s go. Fuck them,” he said. “I’ll get your stuff and we are out of here.” 

“It’s not that easy,” I sighed. 

He growled, thinking. “Okay, listen to me,” he pushed me enough to look into my face. “Here’s the deal. One shit, one stupid thing from them, we are out. I don’t give a shit they are your family. They will not disrespect you. I won’t allow that.” 

I didn’t have the chance to say something. Logan took my hand and led me back into the house. He trusted his instinct which led him to a room filled with my family members. The moment we stepped into the dining room, all eyes were on us. 

First came the introductions. My father tried to be intimidating. My uncle used his dumb intelligent humour to impress Logan. Neither of us found it funny. My aunt was too touchy. I wanted to step on her foot for that. My cousins didn’t give a shit. They were interested in their mobile games. 

“How long have you been together?” 

It was the first of many questions. Logan and I sat next to each other. My mother brought a plate for him. One of his hands found my thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s been over a year now,” he said, voice low and gruff. 

“Where did you meet?” my aunt asked. 

“At work,” I said quickly. “We work in the same building.” 

“Really?” My father didn’t believe that. “He doesn’t look like someone who would work in a big corporate company.”

“Dad!” I glared at him. 

No one knew what I was, what was my real job. I told them a story about my life in New York, working for a big company. For them, I was the daughter who moved to New York. I wasn’t the mutant, the whiny girl they used to call me. Of course, Logan knew it all.

My aunt eyed Logan once more. “They take you seriously with that hair?” she asked him. 

My eyes almost popped out of my head. I couldn’t believe she dared to say it. “Excuse me?” was all I got out of my mouth.

And it got worse. 

“We always believed our Y/N would move to Europe and live her life there. Empty promises how she’d become a writer, leave the country and live a better life,” my mother laughed. “We believed she would be the one to leave the county and do great things. And here we are.” 

“Still can’t believe she didn’t settle down. But what do you want from someone who’s not fond of kids? She always hated kids, so be prepared she wouldn’t want a family with you,” said my aunt. 

“She never went to college. She lied to us about applying, her interest in decusation.” 

“Always complaining and crying.” 

“She was a sensible child.”

“She suffered from depression and anxiety.”

Logan smashed a hand against the table. All the plates and cutlery rang. I closed my eyes, ready to release my last breath from all the humiliation. My family went rampage - saying shit that even they knew was not true. But here we were. 

“Everyone shut your goddamn mouths,” he snarled, slowly rising from the table. “She is your goddamn daughter and you’ve been treating her like shit the moment I sat behind this damn table. How the fuck do you think you make her feel?” 

“Language!” my aunt glared at him. “Children are present.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your two spoilt bastards,” Logan glared at her. “You can’t even make them put the damn tablets down while eating.”

“Who do you think you are?” my mother asked. She was offended by Logan’s behaviour. 

“I am the guy who needs to put you in your fucking place. You do not respect your daughter and you keep humiliating her in front of me. Instead of saying something nice, something positive, you’ve been running your mouth off with a lot of bullshit and I am sick of it.” 

Logan grabbed me by my arm and helped me get up. I barely listened to a word they all said. My mind was spiralling. I felt like the biggest loser, the black sheep of the family. Someone who shouldn’t be born.

“Don’t you fucking dare say one more word about her,” Logan spat at them. “Or I swear, I will make your lives miserable. She’s the most amazing woman in this godforsaken world. She means the world to me. She’s the definition of goodness, kindness and love. And fuck, I don’t deserve her. But I will defend her and show her how worthy of love she is because it seems you never loved her in the first place!” 

Silence. Everyone was glaring at Logan, shocked by the words he said. As if they all forget how to speak. 

“Y/N? How can you be with this rude man?” 

“Rude?” I raised a brow. “You’ve been rude to me the whole week I was here. Logan defended me when no one else did. Even I couldn’t stand up for myself and send you to hell and back! You are the rude here, not him.” 

“That’s not true,” my uncle chimed in.

I got up from the table. “I’m gonna go pack and we’ll be on our way.” 

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” said Logan, quickly pressing a kiss to my temple as I walked by him. 

The packing took me less than five minutes. I threw everything into my suitcase. I made sure I had my documents. The moment I got downstairs with my belongings, my mother was the first by my side. 

“You can’t be serious,” she said. 

“I am.”

“And with that man?”

I stopped and glared at her. My feelings were battling inside of me. I wanted to scream, shout nasty words and throw a tantrum like a child would. However, I would never do that. I hated conflicts. I hated this moment.

“Bye, Mother,” I said and left the house. 

Once I stepped out of the house I grew up in, I felt relief and grief. A chapter, that was supposed to end sooner, finally closed. It was not a happy ending, but it had to happen to move on. Without Logan’s help, I wouldn’t be able to do that. Thank god he came here so unexpectedly. He got my back.

Logan was leaning against the car, cigar in his mouth. When I approached him, he took my suitcase and put it inside the car. 

“Thanks,” I whispered. 

I ended up in his tight embrace. The cigar long forgotten. He had to put it off on his hand. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s get going.” 

“Take me home,” I said with a broken voice. 

“Home?” I knew he was smiling when he said that.

“Yes,” I nodded. “ Like you said - the X-mansion is my home. You are my home. Not this, not here.” 

Logan lifted my head by pressing a finger under my chin. Our eyes met. “I’m sorry they never treated you right. I’m sorry they saw you as something damaged, broken, now worthy of their time” He took a deep breath. “I’ll do everything to show you, that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You…” Logan sighed. “You are the love of my life.” 

“Logan,” I gasped. We told each other many times the three beautiful words. This was something new, deep. It was an undiscovered territory that didn’t feel intimidating. 

His lips found mine in a simple kiss. I tasted the cigars and the coke he had during unfinished lunch. It was perfect. Like a definition of our relationship. “Let’s get you home, darlin’.” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Work-Life Balance

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this and this

Warnings: non/dubcon, forced proximity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Clark Kent

Summary: a simple car pool leads to a compicated situation.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A haze of chatter buzzes behind your monitor. You do your best to tune it out as your fingertips skitter over your keyboard. For many, the day has been a wash, but you’re doing your best to square everything before the weekend. With the prospect of one less employee, you’ll need all the help you can get. 

“Hey,” a deep voice rolls through the drone, “you coming?” 

You keep typing, trying not to eaves drop. You tap the arrow keys, reviewing the column of numbers. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” they say firmer, tapping on the corner of your desk. 

As if zapped, you recoil from your keyboard and sit back in your chair. You look at Clark as he smiles down at you, his expression much less demanding than his tone. You give a sheepish smile, or something halfway there. 

“Sorry, I was...” 

“I interrupted, I should apologise,” he insists, “Drea’s farewell party, you going? We’re just about to head out.” 

“Um...” you don’t have an answer. It’s optional but you should go. You’ve been working with Drea for two years. You get along. Still, she’s leaving in the midst of busy season and won’t be there on Monday to help you catch up. “I...” 

“Come on. You look stressed. You could use a break,” he says. “The Grill has cocktails, so I hear.” 

“Well...” you twiddle your fingers against the armrests. “I guess I should.” 

“It’ll be good,” he grins. The cleft in his chin deepens and his eyes crinkle, sparkling like blue ice. “I’ll let Gil known you need a seat. We should have some room. Meeting down in the lobby in ten.” 

“Oh, ten...” you look at the screen, “sure, I’ll be there.” 

“Great,” he backs up. 

He walks away and you roll closer to your desk again. Clark is friendly. You don’t know much about him but he always says hello in the break room or holds the door if you get to work at the same time. Mostly, you just overhear him talking with others. He is somehow anywhere and everywhere. 

Your focus is fractured. You do your best to get back to your task but can’t help but check the clock every thirty seconds. Somehow, you’re still late. You save your work and shut down, scrambling out as the new silence of the office sets in. 

You swipe up your bag and scurry between the desks. The elevator door closes before you reach it. You’ll wait for the next or... You take the stairs. It’s only a few flights but you’ve been sitting all day. Your legs are stiff as you get to the bottom. 

You come out in the lobby. Your coworkers are on their way to the front door, garbling even louder than they had upstairs. You hesitate, wondering if you could just sneak back up. Would anyone notice? 

Your name splinters the thought. Clark waves at you and stops to wait as the others continue through the door. Right, you’ve been spotted. You flutter your fingers at him and cross the lobby. He holds the door as he always does. 

You pass through ahead of him, “thanks.” 

“Don’t worry, we didn’t forget you,” he assures as he follows. “Gil’s driving us,” he points across the lot. 

“Right, awesome.” 

You get to the grey minivan as the doors slide back. Several other groups cluster around other vehicles in their assigned car pools. You wait patiently with Clark as your coworkers claim their seats. 

“Oh,” Gil stands by the driver door, “think we’re outta seats.” 

You and Clark stand staring at one seat. You cringe. Of course. 

“It’s okay. I can get an uber or check with...” 

Sandra’s white SUV backs out and Don’s Honda is too small for much more than a few. You turn back, “I can find my own way.” 

“We can squeeze in,” Clark says, “what is it? A ten-minute trip?” 

“Something like that,” Gil agrees. 

“Here,” Clark gets in the seat, “I’m bigger, just hop on.” 

“Just don’t be obvious about it, I don’t need a ticket.” 

Gil gets in the front as Clark climbs into the back seat. The others are too distracted chatting about some sports game to pay any heed. You stare at him. He's big man; wide shoulders, tall, the very definition of burly.

“Come on, it’ll be quick,” he fixes his glasses. 

“Erm,” you swallow. How awkward. Still, you don’t want to make a big deal. You already feel like a leftover. 

You get in and squeeze into the tight space between the seats. He pulls the door shut, his knees pressing into your legs, and you fall onto his lap. You let out an oof and feel around for something to steady yourself. 

You grab onto his forearm unwittingly, “sorry, I...” 

“All good,” he shifts under you, “comfortable?” 

“Um, I guess,” you put your hand up to brace the ceiling. 

“Let’s go,” Carrie demands from the backseat. “I need a martini.” 

The van reverses then swerves around. You jostle on Clark’s lap, squeaking at the bounce of the axle. The well-worn minivan has been through it. 

As Gil turns out of the lot, you grab onto the door to keep from sliding. Clark hooks his arm around you to keep you still. You shudder and try to adjust yourself, only pressing more firmly in his lap. 

You apologise again. 

“It’s fine,” he chuckles. “So, you got a lot of work?” 

“Um, sure,” you’re happy he’s at least trying to break the tension. “Without Drea, things are going to be, er, tight.” 

A pot hole bounces you and makes him grunt. Heat creeps up from your thighs and encases your torso. It’s even more awkward than you could expect. You didn’t have time to think this through.  

“Yeah, I can imagine but I’m sure they’ll fill her spot soon,” he assures. 

“Maybe,” you agree thinly. 

Another jolt. The city really needs to work on the roads. You hold onto the door as Clark’s arm tightens around you. He groans with the motion of the car. You crane to see around the driver seat. You gotta be getting close. 

“Well...” his voice is strained. Are you too heavy? “You know, there’s lots of people who can help out.” 

As the van passes over the lip of the parking lot, something pokes into you from below. You gulp and latch onto the seat in front of you. It can’t be. Clark pulls his arm back and spreads his large hand over your stomach. His other hand pushes down on your thigh. You feel him twitch under you and the prodding is more obvious. 

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out,” you squeak. 

Gil finally finds a spot but there’s no relief to be had. You’re pretty sure you know what’s poking into you and you don’t want to embarrass your coworker. As the van stops, you twist in his lap, unintentionally grinding into him. 

You grab onto the door, fighting to pull it back, only managing to rock against Clark as you struggle. He lets out a long breath and reaches over to help you. His other hand trails around your back and nudges you out slowly. 

You eagerly hop out ahead of him. He groans and takes his time. You don’t look back, instead focusing on the restaurant marquee. The other laugh again as some joke you didn’t catch. Gil is on his phone as he gets out. 

“I’ll follow, wife’s calling,” he gestures you with a flick of his fingers. 

“Come on,” Clark gets out and closes the door. “I’m starving.” 

You walk up next to him, following the rest of the group. Another bunch of your coworkers reach the door ahead of them. Clark clears his throat and your gaze is drawn to him as he tugs at his belt. How horrifying. Hopefully, you can find a seat away from him or the elephant in the room will be standing right on your chest. 

You hurry ahead to catch the door behind your coworkers. Clark grabs it past your head and stays close. You approach the reserved table but find most of it is already claimed. There’s a space at the end of the bench. 

You go down and sidle beside the table. Clark takes your lead again. The bench spans the wall and you’re penned into the corner as he sits beside you. He leans one arm on the table as he looks down at the menu. You lean forward to do the same. It’s a good distraction. If neither of you mention what happened, then you’ll get through this. 

“What’re you thinking?” Clark asks. 

“Huh?” You look at him, startled. 

“What’re you going to get?” He taps the menu, “some interesting stuff. 

“Oh, I’m still looking,” you say. 

You put your head down and drag a finger over the options. As you do, you feel a tickle along the side of your skirt. You wrestle between the pad thai and the salmon salad as the sensation creeps over your thigh. 

You tense as warmth spreads over your thigh. You lean back and look down, realising that Clark’s hand is on your leg. He kneads your thigh as he stays perfectly unaffected above the table. He leans on his elbow and sucks his teeth. 

“Pasta sounds good but it feels too early for that,” he muses. 

What do you do? You look around. No one else has any clue. You’re too self-conscious to say anything. He could just move his hand and say you’re lying. Then what? Besides, you were sitting on his lap a few moments ago. What would they think? 

Clark’s leg moves wide and presses against yours as he hums, “you know, I just can’t figure out what exactly I’m craving,” his hand trails down to the hem of your skirt. “But I am starving.”