#But it’s also quite hard to write

[alevolpe]

Hello love your art 🩷

Ok question if reí and minako had a discussion who would apologize first ?

Idk why but I have this silly idea of reí and mina getting into an argument/discussion and reí just telling mina to get out or something and mina coming back after like 1 hour and making a dramatic I’m sorry🥺,like reí opening the door and mina in the rain but in reality it’s usagi with a garde hose cuz she told her it would help for dramatic effect

Hello! Thank you! Hope you’re still around, this is yet another very old ask.

Your idea is very cute and Usagi would 100% do that for Mina.

With Reinako I think it’s very very dependent on what they are fighting about. Unlike Makoami, who I see fighting very very rarely, I think Rei and Mina fight on a pretty regular basis, but it’s almost never too serious, it’s just the nature of their characters and how they tend to play off one another, where if Mako and Ami fight, then it’s most often a very big deal.

If the reason for the fight is non-senshi related then most often I think Mina would be the reason the fight starts to begin with, but also she’d be the one to reach forward and apologize first, even if it might not be 100% her fault. Given the nature of Rei stubbornness and lack of self-reflection, for her admitting she’s wrong is no easy feat, and I think Mina understands this very well and takes the step to open herself to faults first so Rei feels more comfortable admitting possible wrongdoings from her part.

If the fight is senshi related then it gets way more complicated. Mina loves Rei, I’m not saying she doesn’t, but if Mina has to choose between the integrity of the team or her relationship with Rei, then she’d end up breaking up with her quickly and I think Rei would do the same. This is a mutual understanding in their relationship.

It’s a difficult line to ride, they have to keep these two “lives” separate, but at the same time they understand that they are essentially the same person as their lover. So I can honestly see them having disagreements as senshi, as leader and second in command, but their relationship as lovers remaining unchanged from their eyes. It’s something I don’t see any other member of the team outside of possibly Michiru in some circumstances.

So.. if they fight and the fight is senshi related I don't think there is going to be much apologizing most of the time. Maybe early on as the team is just starting and Mina still isn’t fully into her own as leader and goes too far with Usagi, that’s the easiest way I can see them fighting as senshi and Mina coming forth and apologizing.

All this said, does Rei ever apologize? Sometimes yes lol, but you’re not allowed to tell anyone.

[wasyago]

i imagine it's quite chilly in the black sea (for the lack of sun and color), so they're wearing slightly warmer clothes now uwu

+ thoughts

[viperwhispered]

Indulgence

Jamil finds out his sweet, loving girlfriend is totally capable of absolutely ruining him.

Pure smut, written with fem reader in mind and utterly self-indulgent (basically, a birthday treat to myself).

Ngl, this kinda feels like a femdom love letter to Jamil.

You'd thought you were joking - partially, at least - when you told Jamil you’d be happy to have him all for yourself to do with him as you wished for your birthday. Yet Jamil, the perceptive partner he was, soon was teasing out the truth of that statement from you.

So, after some rather in-depth discussions, here you are, filled with anticipation and excitement - and, you have to admit, more than a bit of nerves. Wanting something and actually going through with it always are two very different things.

“Come on, love. Just enjoy yourself, however you wish,” Jamil coaxes you, cupping your cheeks as he peppers your face with soft kisses. He’s looking at you with such openness - eagerness, even - which makes it difficult for you to get lost in your own head.

So, instead you wrap your arms around Jamil's shoulders and nuzzle your face to his, a soft smile rising to your lips.

“Someone certainly seems intent on treating me today,” you say, your own lips seeking contact with Jamil’s skin.

“Knowing how excited you are by the idea… Can you blame me?” Jamil replies with a cheeky grin. All you can do is chuckle in response, a smirk of your own forming on your lips.

“Well… Let’s hope you won't regret enabling me,” you say playfully.

Your lips finally find Jamil’s, meeting his with a soft, building pressure. You tug him closer by his hoodie, your tongue pushing between Jamil's lips and one of your hands seeking his hair. Jamil eagerly reciprocates your actions, the softness giving way to something more eager as you both deepen the kiss, your bodies pressing closer together and hands exploring.

Your eyes flutter closed as you breathe in through your nose, enjoying the way Jamil's mouth moves with yours, how your bodies are already fitting together. After a while, however, you begin to nudge Jamil backwards towards the bed, your lips still lingering against his.

It’s delightful how easily he complies, letting you guide his steps until his shins hit the edge of the bed. A gentle press of your palms onto his shoulders and Jamil’s eyes widen with momentary surprise as he falls back with a breathy oomph.

Still, Jamil’s quick to pull you down with him, grinning as you climb onto his lap and straddle his hips. Jamil’s hands slide up along your waist, your dress bunched up around your legs.

You brace yourself with one arm, your palm on the mattress right above Jamil’s shoulder, and you lean over him. You brush your fingers along his jaw, slowly tracing the contours of Jamil’s face.

“So you’re mine to enjoy as I wish tonight, huh?” you say in a low, almost contemplative tone, your thumb tracing the outline of Jamil’s lower lip.

“Yes.” There’s a slight breathlessness to Jamil’s tone, his eyes a little darker than usual, and you relish the sight of him already being affected.

Of course, this is just the beginning - but a good beginning, nonetheless, easily helping you feel more bold.

“Hmm, I suppose then the question is… Just what do I want to do with you first?” you murmur, your tone lowering to a more sensual, husky register.

You slide your thumb up, over the plumpness of Jamil’s lower lip, and press down gently. After the briefest moment of surprised hesitation he parts his lips for you and wraps his tongue around the digit, sucking on it lightly.

You’re not quite expecting the rush of warmth that shoots to your core. Jamil beneath you, his hair spilled over the bed, those gray eyes so intently trained on you as he obediently sucks on your thumb… Oh, it’s already so heady, making your mind and heart race.

“Mmm, look at you, being so good for me,” you purr. You keep your thumb in his mouth for a moment longer, enjoying the darkening of Jamil’s cheeks and the way his eyes flick over to the side even as his mouth slowly continues working.

Soon you drag your thumb out by the corner of his mouth, smearing his saliva over Jamil’s cheek. You slide your hand further until cup the corner of his jaw, your thumb coming to rest right before Jamil’s ear while the rest of your fingers slip into his hair.

You lean down further, and your lips meet in a slow, sensual kiss. Your tongue tangles with Jamil’s as you take your time tasting and enjoying him. You more feel than hear the soft moan that Jamil makes against your lips, lighting yet another fire within you. With a groan you press your body more firmly against his, wanting to feel every bit of him against you, your bodies undulating together.

You feel the firm pressure of Jamil’s hands sliding up along your back, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin as the kiss becomes more fervent.

You nip on Jamil’s lower lip, his gasp sending another shiver of pleasure down your spine. You move your hand to his ponytail, your tug eliciting another sharp inhale from him. With your urging Jamil soon tilts his head back, exposing his neck to you.

You can feel the unevenness of Jamil’s breaths beneath you, soft, delightful noises catching in his throat.

“Mmm, aren’t you such a compliant treat tonight,” you tease Jamil, hearing him huff in response.

“The things I do for you,” he muses, not a hint of bite in his words.

You chuckle and trail your lips along his jaw, planting a line of soft kisses until you’re below his ear. There you tug Jamil’s earlobe with your teeth, delighting in the way you can feel him squirm beneath you. You trace the tip of your tongue along the shell of his ear, making Jamil hiss and tense.

You chuckle, your warm breath fanning Jamil’s ear and the moisture left behind by your lips and tongue.

“Already twitching, are we?” you tease him - as if you weren't purposefully targeting the weak spots you're well aware of.

“Shush,” Jamil says, swatting you lightly.

You chuckle and move your lips lower from his ear, slowly kissing your way down along Jamil’s neck. You keep your grip on his hair, urging him to keep still as you continue teasing him with your mouth. You place warm, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, only changing your course when you come to the neckline of his shirt.

You feel the way Jamil tenses beneath you when you move up the column of his throat, even if you keep your kisses light on such a vulnerable spot. Yet, when you notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs under your lips, you can’t resist softly wrapping your lips around it. The action earns you a strangled sound from Jamil, who tries to pull back but is unable to quite do so.

“Uncomfortable?” you ask softly, peppering soft, almost apologetic kisses to his jaw.

“A bit,” Jamil breathes out, his chest noticeably rising and falling.

“Noted,” you murmur.

You move to the other side of his neck - you loosen your hold on Jamil’s hair, yet he tilts his head aside just the same, taking in a deep breath as he does so. You smirk against his skin, satisfied to see him so pliant.

There’s definitely a part of you that would love to see him like this more often.

This time you don’t settle for just soft kisses. You let your teeth graze Jamil’s skin, a shiver of delight going down your spine when you hear him hiss in response.

And when you get to that particular spot where his neck meets his shoulder you basically latch on, sucking on the skin. Jamil inhales sharply, grasping onto you tighter, his neck arching and tensing beneath you.

“Ahh-” It’s a soft, barely audible sound, yet hearing the cry escape Jamil’s lips fills you with warm satisfaction. You bite harder, feeling the way Jamil jolts beneath you, before you allow him reprieve and soothe your tongue over the spot.

“You’re not usually this… aggressive,” Jamil breathes out.

“You know you can stop me if you need me to,” you say, sticking to the softer kisses for the moment.

“No need,” Jamil says, letting out a shaky breath. You can practically feel the way he’s trying to relax, at least a little, even as he’s trying to anticipate your next move.

You tug on Jamil’s neckline, teasing as far down his shoulders and collarbones as you comfortably can with your kisses and licks.

Yet, as much as you’re loving the reactions you’ve gotten out of Jamil so far, it’s becoming more and more apparent that just teasing his neck is not enough for you.

You lean back, sitting up on Jamil’s lap. Your hands slowly trail down from Jamil’s shoulders along his body, your eyes half-lidded as you regard him.

There’s a delightfully flustered look on Jamil’s features, his lips slightly parted as he looks at you intently.

“You know… I think we’re going to have to get you undressed,” you murmur, smirking when you see the effect your words have on Jamil.

“Are we now?” he asks with a grin.

“Mhmm. I mean, I can hardly enjoy you to my heart’s content otherwise, now can I.”

You lean down for one more kiss, your hand lingering on Jamil’s side, your hips slightly rocking into his. You’re both making soft noises into the kiss, momentarily distracted by each other, before you finally pull yourself off Jamil’s lap and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“So… Lose those clothes for me, now would you?” you say with a grin, giving Jamil an expectant look.

There’s barely any hesitation when Jamil gets up from the bed. You can tell he’s feeling a little awkward with you looking at him like this, waiting for him to undress for you, yet there’s also a part of him reveling in being the center of your attention.

So, Jamil pulls off his hoodie by the neck, slowly revealing his body for your greedy eyes. His movements are fluid, deliberate, despite the mixture of embarrassment and excitement that’s evident on his features. The flex and curl of his body entrances you, your eyes drinking in every little movement and the dancer’s grace he displays.

His shirt thrown aside Jamil moves to his trousers, slowly pulling them down along his legs and revealing the way his cock is already tenting his underwear. You find yourself leaning forward, taking in all the wonders of his body - a sight you never seem to tire of. Jamil’s hair cascades over his shoulder when he bends down and he pulls one leg free, then the other, until he’s left in just his underwear, his fingers hooked under the waistband.

“Careful, you might start drooling,” Jamil teases you, clearly satisfied with your rapt attention.

“Oh, but can you blame me?” you respond playfully, feeling the flush on your cheeks.

You slide your palms down your legs, gripping your knees, as Jamil removes that last piece of clothing.

“There we go,” you say huskily, your eyes raking over Jamil’s exposed body. The planes of his chest, the softness of his stomach, the patch of dark, curly hair surrounding the cock that’s slowly stirring to life under your eyes, the lean limbs and that lovely brown skin...

“Come here,” you say, lifting a hand.

Once again, Jamil complies, and when he’s within your reach you pull him to stand between your legs, running your palms over him. Just a sliver of exposed skin always has you itching to touch - or to kiss, as it may be - so the sight of Jamil fully bare before you like this is as irresistible as ever. You press soft kisses to his stomach, your hands following the curve of his back until you can grip his rear.

“For all we discussed, I did not think you being in charge would involve you being this adoring,” Jamil says, trying to hide his fluster behind playful words.

You chuckle against his skin, squeezing his ass in response.

“All part of enjoying you, you know,” you say, looking up at Jamil with a playful, loving smile.

“Is that so,” Jamil murmurs, cupping your cheek.

“Mhmm,” you nod. “Now… Lay down on the bed for me. In the middle of it, on your back,” you say, giving Jamil’s hip a playful nudge to get him moving.

While Jamil settles down, you pull off your tights and underwear, dropping them on the pile of Jamil’s clothes. Then you walk around the bed, admiring the sight of Jamil sprawled on the bed - all for you. He’s folded his hands behind his head, his gaze following you. It feels like you’re trying to devour all of him at once with your eyes, not knowing where to settle when all of him is calling to you so.

You grab the cuffs you set aside earlier and crawl over to Jamil on your hands and knees.

Sure, it would be easier to just sit next to Jamil while you tie up his wrists. But where’s the fun in that? So you straddle his chest instead, your bare groin against his skin, and lean over to capture his hands.

“Cheeky. Are you keeping the rest on?” Jamil asks, pushing his chest against you.

“For now, at least,” you say lightly.

You trace your palms over Jamil's arms, guiding his hands above his head. After looping the cuffs around the headboard you fasten them around Jamil's wrists, making sure they're snug but not too tight.

“How’s that?” you ask, running your fingers over the cuffs.

Jamil flexes his fingers, shifts his arms, testing the feel of the bindings.

“Feels fine.”

“Good. Let me know if that changes,” you murmur.

You caress Jamil’s face, tracing his features. Your thumb brushes his cheek, and with a soft breath he nuzzles into the touch.

Gently, you guide Jamil to tilt his head to the side. You pull loose his ponytail, running your fingers through his hair.

Soon, Jamil’s hair is spilled around him on the bed, yet another lovely addition to the scene unfolding before you. Jamil, bound and bare beneath you, his cheeks darkened and eyes trained on you.

Not often do you get Jamil looking at you with such vulnerability, and the sight of it makes your heart flutter. He’s clearly filled with anticipation, too, with the trepidation of surrender. Yet, there is trust in him as well, trust in the way he’s yielding to you and all but urging you to continue.

Oh, you’d love to take a picture of him like this, commit the sight to memory and never let go of it.

Slowly, you drag your body down along Jamil’s, some of the wetness of your pussy leaking onto his skin. You feel Jamil’s tension beneath you, his breaths uneven and his hands flexing.

You only stop your movement when your pussy is right over Jamil’s hardening cock. You let your weight settle on him, pinning him down and holding him still under your warmth.

There’s a definite sharpness to Jamil’s inhale. He wriggles beneath you, what little he can, testing your control over him, and you press yourself down more firmly on him.

“Behave yourself, won’t you,” you say playfully, pushing down onto his shoulders.

“Or you’ll make me?” Jamil asks, humor and challenge evident.

“Indeed. Glad you understand,” you grin.

You draw your hands down over Jamil’s body, this time without the barrier of his clothes. From his shoulders across his chest and stomach your fingers dig into him, his skin pushed into ridges and divots under your touch.

Jamil’s body flexes beneath your touch, muscles rippling with tension and the release of it as your hands make their way. His eyes are trained on you, so intently, his palpable anticipation and the responsiveness of his body filling you with triumph.

You lean down again, your hair falling down over your shoulder and spilling over Jamil’s bare chest.

“Mmm… You really are such a delight, my dear,” you murmur, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

You return your mouth to Jamil’s skin, trailing kisses and nips from his jaw down along his neck and collarbones. When you make your way down to his chest, you twirl your tongue around a nipple, Jamil’s body jolting in response.

Yet, that reaction is nothing compared to when you bring in your teeth, enclosing that sensitive point of Jamil’s chest in your mouth but not directly biting the nipple. You slowly increase the pressure of your bite until Jamil’s breaths turn into hisses, body writhing.

Oh, he’s actually whimpering.

You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to keep some rein over your baser instincts. Oh, how you want to push harder, grip tighter. How you want those sweet noises to increase in volume and pitch until neither of you would know anything else.

Once again, you soothe over the spot with soft kisses and kitten licks, a dark part of you hoping you’ve left a mark that might stay for a while. It is not like you to hurt or mark just for the sake of it, but Jamil’s reactions, the thought of the evidence of your dominance lingering on his skin… Oh, it is most tempting indeed.

“Was that too much?” you ask lowly, just in case, still feeling Jamil’s tension beneath you.

“Nhnh… I told you. You can let go tonight.”

You laugh in response, a mischievous grin on your lips as your eyes meet Jamil’s. Oh, you can tell he means it, despite the heaving of his chest. There’s that shine in his eyes, such a vivid spark of desire. A desire for more, a desire to see how much you can do and how much he can take.

“If you say so,” you say with smug satisfaction.

You return to your task, your mouth - your lips, your tongue, your teeth - traversing Jamil’s body, taking your time to enjoy every inch of skin as you slowly move lower. The dips of his chest, the ridges of his ribs, the softness of his stomach… You take your time savoring - and marking - it all.

With your actions Jamil’s getting increasingly restless, drawing in sharp hisses of breath, tugging on his restraints, squirming beneath you.

Yet, not once has he asked you to stop, or to go easier on him.

You’ve slid down far enough for you to feel the twitch of Jamil’s cock against your breasts, his hips wriggling beneath you. You press your hands on him more firmly, keeping him still, nipping on the skin of his stomach both to warn him to behave and to urge him to react even more.

Moving lower again, your tongue follows the line of his hip towards his groin, teasing and tantalizing. Yet when you feel the coarse curls against your cheek you change course, moving to kiss your way down Jamil’s thigh instead.

Jamil hisses out your name, his hips bucking, and there’s no hiding your smug, satisfied look.

“Something the matter, my dear?” you ask, as innocently as you can muster. You grip Jamil’s hips tighter while you suck the soft skin of his inner thigh between your teeth.

“Ahh!” Jamil cries out, his leg twitching.

“You’re such a tease,” he huffs, nearly panting.

You let out another satisfied laugh and drag your nails down the outside of his thigh, loving each and every one of Jamil’s reactions.

“You’re the one who told me to enjoy myself and not hold back,” you say with a smirk.

“Please. At least…” Jamil’s words trail off, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“You’re going to have to ask for it to get what you want, you know,” you say, your words low and sultry. You caress a splayed palm up along the top of Jamil’s thigh, your thumb just brushing the edge of his pubes.

“Please. I’m aching for you,” Jamil pleads, emphasizing his words with a twitch of his hips, his heavy cock bobbing with the movement.

Oh, that plea was one of the sweetest things you had ever heard from him, your core throbbing just with the sound of it.

You tilt your head, as if thinking over his words.

“Asking for relief, are you, my love?” you ask. You brush your fingers over his hardened cock, the lightest of touches on the velvety skin, yet that is enough to make Jamil inhale sharply.

“Yes,” Jamil breathes out, his eyes wide, expectant, when he looks up at you.

There are a few different options on your mind - a few different temptations, calling to you, as you wonder just how much you should push Jamil.

Then again, he had been the one telling you to not hold back. That he could take it.

You reach over to the bedside table and pull out a vibrator from the drawer. You keep it concealed from Jamil, just to prolong the tension - though he does know well enough what sort of things have been stashed away there.

A pump of lube from the bottle on the nightstand, smeared against the tip of the toy with your palm. You wipe your hand mostly clean against Jamil's thigh and bring the vibrator to the underside of his cock. For now, you keep it turned off, just slowly moving it along his sensitive parts in circular motions.

Even like this, there are a few spots that make Jamil's cock twitch or body tense.

Then you turn on the vibration, and Jamil actually gasps.

“How's that?” you ask in a low tone.

“It's…” Jamil pauses, as if considering the sensation. “It… feels good.”

“Well, my dear… If there’s something you like in particular, I’d love to hear it,” you purr.

At this point, Jamil’s responsive enough that it’s not difficult for you to tell what the most sensitive spots are just by judging his reactions. Yet, hearing him admit it, too, telling you what he likes, what he wants more of… oh, it’s absolutely delicious. So, whenever he does admit to something feeling good, you gladly reward him by giving special attention to that particular spot.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” you say with a satisfied smirk, pressing the vibrator more firmly down against the sensitive spot right under the head of his cock, your other hand cradling his hardness to keep it still.

“Yes, nghh…” Jamil groans in response. You can tell he wants to buck and twitch, yet he’s trying to keep still with you touching such sensitive parts.

You press down, ease up the pressure, time and time again, until Jamil is quivering, his legs twitching and body curling with the intensity of it all. You can see his arousal, impatience and tension building, his whole body pulled taut as a wire, only for you to ease up once again and switch to gentle caresses.

If you’d enjoyed his whimpers before, now Jamil’s noises and reactions were absolutely delightful. Whimpers, hisses, groans and breathy words… Oh, it was driving you wild, seeing him like this.

“Please��. How long do you plan on just teasing me?” Jamil whines, a mess of longing and frustration.

“Well… I could listen to those sweet noises you’re making for quite some time, you know,” you say casually, flipping the vibrator to life once again.

A strangled, indignant noise catches in Jamil’s throat, the color of his cheeks quickly darkening further. You can’t help laughing in response, even as you lean down to press a greedy kiss to his lips.

“I mean… You are so wonderfully responsive right now, and it’s just absolutely delicious seeing you like this,” you murmur, your lips brushing Jamil’s cheek.

“You’re tormenting me,” Jamil huffs.

You can see how taut the bindings on his hands are, how tense his body is as he practically trembles to do something instead of just having to take what you have to give.

“And do you dislike it?” you ask with a smirk, pressing the buzzing vibrator against Jamil and pulling another wide-eyed gasp out of him.

Jamil swallows thickly enough that you can see the bobbing of his throat.

“...No. I don’t,” he sighs.

Jamil takes a deep breath, visibly steeling himself.

“Please… Let me have more of you,” he begs, looking over the dress you’re still wearing.

Perhaps you could grant him a little more. He’s been such a delight, after all.

“Hmm… Maybe I can give you that,” you murmur, once again weighing your options.

You settle the vibrator down to a spot you know gets to Jamil, drinking in his reactions as you slip your hand under your dress. You slide your fingers between your pussy lips, fondling your clit. You know Jamil can't quite see what you were doing, the hem of your dress covering it up, yet you’re sure he can guess. 

The way he looks at you, eyes burning as his bindings keep his hands away, certainly suggests so.

“Patience, my dear,” you say teasingly.

The buzzing of the vibrator and Jamil’s shaky noises are joined by the lewd sound of your fingers finding your wetness, the shuddering breath you take when you find just the right angle. Your eyes don’t leave each other, both of you watching the other get lost in the pleasure - all of it by your hand.

Then, finally, you move, pressing your wet cunt right against Jamil’s aching cock. Jamil’s hips buck, a low, needy noise falling from his lips. You rock yourself against him, coating him in your juices as you prepare yourself to take him.

“Won’t you let me see you?” Jamil groans, his eyes brimming with desire, his voice ready to break at any moment.

“Maybe if you ask me sweetly enough,” you say, reveling in the power you have over him.

Yet, before Jamil has the chance to consider begging, you take his cock into your hand and guide him to your entrance, rubbing the tip along your folds. Your dress is still pooled around you, covering the way you’re joined, the hem gathered over Jamil’s belly.

Jamil’s moan is pure music to your ears, your core throbbing as you slowly ease him in. It’s a delicious feeling of fullness, his hard, straining cock stretching you open, settling snugly within you.

Once Jamil's fully enveloped by your welcoming cunt, you settle down more comfortably on his lap. You grab the vibrator you just used on Jamil and slip it under your dress to bring it to your clit. With a soft gasp you lean your head back, a jolt shooting through your nerves when you find just the right spot to tease with the toy. 

You keep mostly still on Jamil, the faint reverberations of the vibrator and the flutter of your pussy around Jamil’s cock all the stimulation you grant him. It’s always particularly wonderful, combining such stimulation with the sensation of having your pussy filled - and even more delicious now, when it’s Jamil inside you, when you get to enjoy his every reaction to your actions.

Jamil growls, his hips bucking up to you nigh uselessly. Your name on his lips is somewhere between a plea and an admonishment, your continued teasing and denial driving him towards his breaking point.

“Love… Please, please, I need you to move, I need you to milk me with this perfect pussy of yours, please…” Jamil whines, another desperate thrust of his hips finding enough purchase to nearly topple you forwards.

You click your tongue and give Jamil a warning look.

“Keep still, my dear.”

“I can’t help it when I want you so much. Do you even know what you’ve done to me?”

Jamil seems so sincere, all his pretenses fallen, yet you can recognize the part of him that likes to rely on honeyed words to get what he wants. Still, his desperate desire is undeniable, his body quivering beneath you, all of him full of wanton need that only feeds your own arousal.

“Why don’t you enlighten me, then?” you goad Jamil, still pleasuring yourself with the toy, feeling the warm pleasure fill you as your body tenses.

Jamil pauses, his tongue darting out from the corner of his mouth.

“You… You have such power over me, driving me completely wild with the way you’ve been teasing me… Please, won’t you have some mercy on me? I need you, need to feel you properly, need both of us to feel good..”

The genuine need in Jamil’s tone makes you groan, a shudder running down your spine all the way to your cunt.

So you drop the vibrator to the bed and place your hands on either side of Jamil, bracing yourself as you begin to move.

“Ahh, yes!” Jamil moans, his head tilted back, his hips quickly moving to match your rhythm.

You’re tempted to remind him to keep still, but at this point you can’t resist, either. In fact, you love feeling his eagerness, the desperate way he’s rutting into you from below.

You lean back, pulling your dress over your head and tossing it away. Your bra soon gets the same treatment, finally leaving you bare for Jamil’s eyes to devour.

“Better?” you ask with a playful smile as you lean down again, beginning to ride Jamil in earnest.

“Yes,” he breathes out, bracing his feet against the bed so that he can move with you with more force.

Soon, you’re both panting and moaning, all the buildup leaving you both on the verge of release. Your bodies meet time and again, a forceful smack of your hips as you take Jamil’s cock deep within you over and over. It’s so delicious, the way his cock is dragging along your insides, the way Jamil’s fully let go and just chasing more of you. You lean lower, your lips meeting in a sloppy, delirious kiss that’s muffling both of your moans.

“Gonna come for me, aren’t you? Gonna fill me with your cum?” you murmur hotly against Jamil’s mouth, a moan falling from his lips in response.

“Mhmm, I’d love to drive you into the mattress right now, smother you with kisses, touch you all over…” Jamil groans, his hands clenched into fists in the cuffs.

You can’t help your breathless laugh in response. “Well, turns out that’s my privilege tonight,” you tease him, adjusting your position so that you can tug on Jamil’s hair before giving him another fierce, hungry kiss.

Jamil’s eyes scrunch closed, his breathing uneven, his thrusts faltering. You pick up the pace, sliding up and down on his cock, until you see the bliss of his orgasm overtake Jamil. He groans, spilling his load inside you, face contorted in pleasure as his body trembles.

“There you go,” you breathe out, giving Jamil another deep, passionate kiss, stealing the last of his breath away.

Your hips slow, settling down against Jamil’s again, his cock and cum swallowed by your cunt. You grab the toy again, leaning back, gasping when you feel the buzz on your clit.

“Mmm, let me see you come, let me feel you squeeze around my cock,” Jamil urges you, even breathless as he is from his own release.

It does not take you long to follow after Jamil. The tension has your legs trembling, the pleasure building in your core until you can’t contain it anymore. The burning bliss takes you under, both of you gasping when your pussy clenches around Jamil’s cock in a tight squeeze. Your back arches, body jolting, as you ride the waves of pleasure.

Eventually, you toss the toy aside and slump against Jamil, your lips fumbling against his, both of your breaths ragged and chests heaving. You remain there for a moment, savoring your afterglow and the feel of Jamil’s body against yours.

“I swear, love, if you don’t let me touch you soon…” Jamil says in a low, breathy tone.

You chuckle, pecking Jamil’s cheek quickly.

“I suppose I should,” you mumble, lazily moving to undo Jamil’s hands despite the languidness that’s taken over your body.

You kiss over Jamil’s wrists as you release them, making sure he’s fine. There’s some indentations on his skin, presumably from the way he pulled against the restraints, but nothing for you to worry over.

As soon as he can, Jamil pulls you close, feeling you up as if making up for lost time. You chuckle, gladly enjoying the touches and the skin to skin contact.

“Mhmm… How are you feeling, my dear?” you ask softly, still a little out of breath.

“Oh, love… You really are something else,” Jamil mumbles, his face nuzzled into your neck.

You smile, feeling the warm satisfaction settle within you.

“Glad you enjoyed yourself, then,” you murmur, settling more comfortably against Jamil.

“Who knew my sweet girlfriend had such a side to her,” Jamil says, his tone teasing - though you suspect he’s also trying to cover up just how affected he is.

“Who knew my stubborn boyfriend would be so willing to go along with it,” you tease back.

You take in a soft breath, enjoying the feel of Jamil's body against yours. It was always particularly sweet, feeling Jamil’s body against yours after sex, and you found yourself practically soaking in Jamil's presence. 

Jamil's lips lock with yours, the kiss languid and tender, yet tinged with the remains of your passion. 

Happily, you sink into the softness of the moment, the heady satisfaction of your lovemaking mixing with the warm comfort of the current moment.

“So…” you murmur, your fingers trailing on Jamil’s skin. “Do you think you’ll let me do this again sometime?”

Jamil chuckles, giving you an amused, affectionate look.

“Hmm… I think you could persuade me, yes,” he says teasingly. “Though I will definitely have to pay back the favor sometime, too.”

You chuckle.

“Maybe I could be persuaded, too,” you grin and move in for another soft kiss.

Hopefully y'all enjoyed this (and this doesn't have just the target audience of me personally). As always, would love to hear your thoughts!

Also I wrote this on an awkward loan laptop instead of my own PC so please, if there's any mistakes, do let me know so I can sort them out.

This line sure was telling of my whole writing process: "There are a few different options on your mind - a few different temptations, calling to you, as you wonder just how much you should push Jamil." So many places I could've gone with this, but this is where we ended up (this time).

If you'd like to be tagged for my future works, let me know and I'll be happy to do so!

Tag list:

@colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist

@perilous-pasta @twstgo

[project-sekai-facts]

sorry if this is a dumb question, but i just read the main stories and if the niigo sekai is mafuyu's, why is kanade the unit leader? /gen

Kanade is the actual founder and leader of the nightcord music group, but it was also probably to avoid giving away the (admittedly given away by marketing) twist of Mafuyu being OWN and the mystery girl that Miku needs Kanade to save being Mafuyu from the get go. If Mafuyu was the face of the group then there wouldn’t be any point in writing the ‘surprise’ reveal in because we would know the entire time, and the niigo story would probably be very different.

[sesamestreep]

“requiem for methuselah” crazy ass episode for many reasons. Kirk is being fully insane, like I don’t actually think, even controlling for how quickly and easily and readily he seems to fall in love with anybody at the slightest encouragement, that he’d go that bonkers for that android woman he just met while everyone on the ship was this close to dying, but that’s neither here nor there, because in the background you’ve got an equally but much more subtly insane episode for Spock, who extremely uncharacteristically admits to experiencing an emotion (or nearly experiencing, whatever) and that emotion is ENVY of all things. And then spends the rest of the episode warning Kirk away from this new love interest (something that doesn’t usually happen, even when Kirk has very inadvisable love interests) and is, in the end, the person who accurately identifies that Rayna’s competing love for Kirk and Flint is ultimately what overwhelms and destroys her with the most killer line in maybe history???

And then to wrap it up we get an equally uncharacteristic sort of denouement scene (TOS loooves to cut an episode off right after the actual climax, leaving little time for falling action or character reflection, or to stick a sitcom-y button on the end where the gang all smiles and laughs at their misadventures and everything resets to zero, which is not a criticism, it’s just the style of that era of tv, honestly) where Kirk is literally miserable over Rayna’s death (again, kind of unusual for a lot of his love interests, he tends to be able to move on pretty quickly) and Spock goes to see him and he falls asleep right in front of Spock (also odd) and then when Bones comes in to give the final word on Flint, Spock waves him off from waking the Captain (tender) and Bones gives him that awful speech about how it’s sadder that Spock can’t even imagine the love Kirk felt for this random android woman than it is that Kirk lost her in the first place (debatable but also rude) and how his great tragedy is that he can’t love at all like they can and how all he wishes is that Kirk could forget about all of this and move on. AND THEN, to have Bones leave and Spock go over to Kirk and very gently, tenderly, reluctantly touch him and put his hand to his forehead and tell him to forget and HAVE THAT BE THE END OF THE EPISODE??? What am I supposed to do with that??

[feroluce]

Belobog was my fave main quest but a lot of it is so. Contradictory. It's like they had multiple groups doing different shit and none of them checked in with each other for consistency. And you see this so much in Gepard's profile.

So in the main quest, they made him unfailingly, unquestionably loyal to Cocolia. Gepard's character arc is him learning to question authority etc etc. And this isn't even a bad thing; that's a story worth telling! It makes good conflict between him and Serval! And I love that we got Gepard as a boss battle and I get to see him all the time in SU!

But then you look at his character stories and it's like. The complete opposite.

According to his profile, Gepard has already HAD this awakening, long before the Astral Express, and he'd already decided Cocolia sucks. Even outside of his stories, there's a pretty damning readable between him and Pela.

He even disobeyed direct orders right in front of her- he has been disobeying orders for a while now!

So I've decided I'm marrying the two different sides of this into a 1.5k fic-ish thingy, because I think there's some fun potential there with Gepard not trusting Cocolia, but still having to pretend to be a good obedient little soldier.

Anyway. I love to think of it as like. Gepard knows Cocolia has sunk into her apathy. He can see it in her eyes every time he looks at her. She doesn't care. Not about him, not about Pela, not about all his soldiers on the frontlines giving their lives to protect the citizens. And that's... It makes him bristle a bit, but ok. Gepard can deal with this. Even if Cocolia no longer cares, as long as she does her job then it's fine. Having compassion behind an action doesn't matter as much as the action itself. If Cocolia's heart is no longer swayed, then he'll just have to care twice as hard to pick up the slack. He considers it part of his duty as a captain of the guard anyway. It's fine. Gepard can deal with it.

And then, Cocolia starts coming down to the restricted zone. Issuing direct orders.

And Gepard realizes he is in way over his head.

Because Cocolia orders him to stay back and issue commands from the ramparts, away from all his comrades, away from where he can protect them.

Gepard had thought nothing could be as bad as watching a fellow guard die right next to him. But the first time he watches someone struck by a killing blow, so far away, it hurts. Every defensive scar across his arms itches, his fingers curl in want of a weapon, the cold cannot numb his hands enough as they desperately ache for his shield. It hurts.

Gepard tries to find any reason to stay. Because surely... He knows Cocolia has lost her love for her people, but surely... She wouldn't...

One day, Cocolia orders for their gunners to advance 20 yards. There are no survivors. She almost looks like she smiles.

Gepard doesn't sleep that night.

Pela brings him the report at the end of the first month; and then the month after that, and the month after that. A significant uptick in losses, and all of it started on that first day Cocolia started overriding his authority and issuing her own orders. The ends of Gepard's pens have all been nearly chewed off. Pela outright calls Cocolia an idiot, and Gepard corrects her. Cocolia isn't an idiot. Gepard had known her through Serval, knew her through all her college years and then some, and he knows how intelligent she is. It's not that she's stupid, and it's not that she's inexperienced, it's nothing of the sort.

Cocolia knows exactly what she's doing.

She must, there's no way she could make such a horrible mess of things so badly by accident. And Pela, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, always too smart for her own good, catches onto the meaning behind Gepard's correction without any further prompting. The tent goes deathly quiet, nothing but the wind howling outside.

"...She's trying to kill us," Pela whispers, her voice swiftly suffocated by the silence.

Gepard swallows. He can't bring himself to correct her this time. There is nothing he could say that he would actually mean.

His gaze drops, back down to his desk and the reports on it. The names aren't listed, just the numbers, but Gepard knows them, knew them, and there must be something wrong, something he's missing, because why, why would she-? What could this possibly accomplish-?

“Gepard! Focus!” Something snaps right under his nose, and Gepard startles, eyes instantly honing in on Pela's irritated face as she leans over his desk. She holds his gaze for a moment before she huffs and begins to pace, wedges a knuckle between her teeth and bites like Gepard hasn't seen her do since cadet school.

Pela angrily strides from one end of his tent to the other, words hissed between her grit teeth. “What are we going to do?” In the dim lighting, Gepard can just barely see the damp spot of blood weeping under her gloves. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Wh- Yes, a plan! Unless you want more people to die!” Pela rounds on him then, all the wrath of a blizzard, winds roaring and snow sharp enough to cut.

“We don't even know-”

“What does it matter?! She killed-!!” Pela cuts off with a garbled noise when Gepard leaps up from his desk, hastily shoves his hand over her mouth. The prosthetic, not the flesh one, because he knows better than to assume Pela won't seize the opportunity to leave teeth marks in his skin.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; you're right. But you need to keep quiet.” Pela quirks an eyebrow at him and Gepard can read the question in her face. “Because we both saw what she did to Serval,” he hisses.

It's amazing the snow plains haven't thawed out yet, the amount of heat Pela can put behind a glare. The mere mention of Serval, and the smoking ruins Cocolia had made of her life and career, have her bristling up like a riled cat. The sudden hot breath she takes fans fog across his metal skin, and Gepard wisely keeps it in place until Pela finally sighs and reaches up, taps her fingertips against the back of his hand.

The second she's free, Pela bats him away and then her knuckle is right back between her teeth again, Gepard leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed to watch her resume her pacing. “If we spread the word, she'll have us discharged and make sure we can't even touch the frontlines,” Pela's voice seethes like an open sore. Gepard nods but keeps his silence. He knows better than to get in her way.

“And if you and I are both out of the picture, Belobog is fucked.” A little harsher than how he would have put it, but there's no denying that they're both important to the city's survival. Pela has the restricted zone running as efficiently as ever, and Gepard had become the youngest captain on record for a reason. “We need to keep this tight under wraps, at least for now… It can't leak to anyone higher up the chain.” Another nod. “Serval might know other discontents…” Another n-

Gepard's head snaps up. “No.”

“No what?”

“No. We're not involving Serval in this.”

Somehow, even the same tone that leaves entire squadrons shaking in their boots has never worked on her. “You're not deciding that for her, Gepard.”

Pela hadn't seen the worst of it, though, back when his sister had just been banned from the Architects. Serval's pride hadn't allowed it. Pela wasn't the one to find her passed out bottle still in hand, hadn't been the one to wash the sick out of her hair or carry her to bed. 

Serval still has trouble thinking clearly when it comes to Cocolia, still can't quite bring herself to be objective. And Gepard maybe doesn't want her to be purely objective- but he would worry a lot less if she thought twice before she acted more often.

“At least let me be the one to bring it up to her.”

“Whatever, fine,” Pela gestures affirmatively at him as she paces past, and Gepard sighs. Good, at least that's one thing he can help.

From there, it's a lot of hemming and hawing and frustration. Cocolia has them under her boot, and Gepard and Pela both know it. Even with the way she's been cracking down on freedoms lately, Cocolia is still, overall, liked by the people. It's unlikely anyone would believe them. They don't even have solid proof, because most people don't know Cocolia as well as they do and won't see the clues in the same light. 

The Fragmentum has been ramping up in recent years, too. Everyone is struggling just to survive as is, they can't afford a fight on two fronts. Gepard is a damn good captain, one of the best for that matter. But they're at a massive disadvantage, his experience is narrowed to fighting a defensive battle against monsters, that's all he's ever done. That's all anyone there has ever done. He has no way of finding first-hand knowledge for taking the offensive against a human opponent, and if he goes at this blind, there's no way he'll get everyone out unscathed. He's going to lose people. He's going to lose a lot of people.

He'd never thought before that Cocolia would have it in her to have someone killed. And with this new knowledge, he has no guarantee she won't go after Serval or Lynx if she decides to retaliate.

Gepard has to remind himself to breathe when he realizes this.

Pela writes down every name the two of them can come up with. Lists and lists of names and groups and anyone they can think of who might be an ally in all of this. They memorize every bit of it, make their plans of who to talk to and when. Gepard watches the sparks reflect off Pela's glasses as they burn the evidence together.

Pela finally leaves, far too late to make it home, but says she wants to stay in the restricted zone anyway to investigate. Gepard watches her make her way in the direction of Dunn's tent, watches her back until she's out of his sight and squashes down the urge to follow and keep an eye on her. His tent feels empty.

In the morning, Gepard is up before the wake up bells. He drags himself out of bed, leads his soldiers through their morning training. The same people gravitate to each other everyday. Friend groups and training partners. There's an ongoing rivalry between a few squadrons that everyone bets on. Some of them have lockets around their necks, keepsakes, mementos. Some of them wear wedding rings.

Gepard is suddenly, painfully aware of something acidic clawing at the inside of his throat, of a heavy weight low in his chest that blooms, takes up room until it threatens to spread his ribs. His mouth tastes of bile and blood.

He rearranges the schedules. Puts himself down for every open patrol into the Fragmentum, makes sure he'll be on the frontlines every single time Cocolia visits.

He only hopes that it's enough.

[bunnyboy-juice]

Oh? You take more selfies than you could ever post on here? Do it then. Post em. I for one have been hyperventilating every time i see one of your posts because you're hot so... post em. /srs, but in a joking tone

omg 😳🥰 well who am i to deny the people what they want :3c

[touchlikethesun]

i’m trying to break out of it but, when it comes to their relationship dynamics, so far no fic has managed to top the one skiing au where bokuto and akaashi try and convince kuroo and tsukki to be in a poly relationship that i followed religiously back in 2015, like. (almost) no other fic has managed to tap into what i find so appealing about that group’s whole dynamic, their humour their earnestness their chaos as four, the way akaashi and tsukki balance kuroo and bokuto’s energy (except everyone knows the real trouble is tsukki and bokuto), and like the individual dynamics are incredible too, every pairing just worked so well, even ones i wouldn’t have considered before like kuroo and akaashi. like how in 100k words did this author manage to develop every relationship just so damn well??? there should be way too many moving parts, at least one of the dynamics should have fell flat or fell to the background but none of them did ughhhhh oh my god it’s so good i just need like. a dozen more fics exactly like it rippppp like i’m watching s2 (again yes ik) and all i can think about when i see the four of them interact is “wow that author really nailed their dynamics, what they wrote is exactly how those four would be in 10 years time” god fanfiction is incredible

[tacroyy]

LMAO YELLING!!! this is from diana wynne jones to her editor—

Dear Miriam, I have been on the phone to Terry Pratchett who sent me a rough draft of a story which is going to be very good, but he is very anxious to know at what stage in the process he actually gets the money.

[brynnmclean]

saw a post questioning shipping Senua and Thórgestr and started to reblog it with a tag novel-- felt weird about doing that since this is lengthy and potentially derailing, so making my own post instead. Spitballing under the cut:

First off, any time someone is like, "the real reason people ship this is because they find the dude attractive," this is SO funny to me as someone who doesn't find men attractive IRL and has fiercely loved Senua since I played the first game, like-- actually I find the dynamic between those two characters to be compelling and interesting precisely because of all the baggage between them re: their backgrounds, the rough (put mildly!) beginning of their relationship, all the things they don't talk about, and them finding a common enemy/common ground to work with. The explicit parallels between them stated in-game scratched an itch in my brain. The minute they pointed out the dark rot on his arm, it was like, "oh! hello there! NOW I'm interested in whatever your whole deal is" for me. Also, idk man, I too would follow Senua around after she knocked me into the dirt and then showed me a way to fight the giants that I very much wanted to fight instead of appease.

The idea that Thórgestr was part of the Orkney Raid that killed and mutilated Dillion is VERY interesting food for thought, even if I don't personally have that headcanon (surely there are more viking raiding groups than just the Bjorg). I think the Furies or the Shadow said something similar about Fargrimr (his kin murdered yours, you shouldn't save him, etc.) so I completely get that line of thought, but I think the game left it ambiguous enough that it's up for interpretation. Would I read fic with that premise? Yeah, I'd check that out. Could Senua forgive Thorgestr if his people were involved? Sounds fun to explore.

If (ha, when?) I write fic, I'd have to think more about it especially wrt timelines, like when did the Bjorg start specifically raiding for slaves for giant food sacrifices vs. killing people for resources and wealth? How far off are we from the old gods "dying" and the volcano erupting? Was it indeed a different group of raiders who made a deal with Zynbel, attacked Senua's home, and made the sacrifice at that time to Hela?

At the very least, I think there's a time jump between the end of Hellblade I and the beginning of Hellblade II since Senua wasn't alone on that slave ship and at least one of the (brief) survivors knew her by name. I wouldn't mind exploring that gap of time, too.

In any case I do agree that it would take a VERY long time for Senua to consciously catch feelings for anyone let alone Thorgestr with all their collective baggage. The idea of them having a relationship beyond friendship in the far off future of an AU where he survives is the only one that can make sense in my brain, personally. It would take time! Time they didn't get in the game! But I think there are a lot of different roads that could take, and some of them might be healthier than others. Shipping them certainly isn't forgetting or excusing what happened to Dillion-- or even mutually exclusive from still shipping Senua and Dillion. Or, frankly, also shipping Senua and Astridr, because I can see that ship too.

One of the nice things about all the details Ninja Theory didn't expand upon and that they left that ending so open is that the sky's the limit. I'm VERY interested in seeing fandom tackle this game as we get farther from the initial release.

[rosenfey]

things that are hard to find: writing advice that isn't condescending.

[bluecubeblues]

so are we like, disembodied voices to you guys?

★ PREV | FIRST | NEXT ★

[shy-sapphic-ace]

Guys should I write a Dracula musical. Should I???

[lesovyart]

im so obsessed w them that I made fanart AND my own playlist

[whumble-beeee]

Hermanitos

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 16

Content: mentioned drugging, mentioned torture, mentioned murder, begging, guns, lady whump kinda?

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[‘But what about the police?!’ you may ask in your extreme naïveté. Don’t you even worry your silly little head about those ineffective dweebs! The police may be a problem for small-time criminals and villains who fail to think past tomorrow, but luckily you have the advantage of this book on your side! Simply make sure to set aside part of your budget to pay off the police, and they’ll gladly unsee any shady dealings they may have previously seen. They’re very good at it.

What do you do if you don’t have such funds? Worry not! While this does often muddy the waters and it is advised to simply pay off prospective arrestors if possible, it is not the only way! Overall, it’s very simple and easy to have the police on your side, and an invaluable resource when you find yourself in a tough spot; You may kidnap a loved one or otherwise blackmail a person in a position of power, seduce them, or any of the other very effective tactics! (Refer to Chapter XX: Blackmailing and Manipulation for more information!)]

* * * * * * * *

For this chapter, dialogue translated from Spanish to English will be bracketed and italicized [like this] for ease of understanding.

Also, I made Officer Kalis Brooks and Officer Frida Galleta girlfriends now, instead of Kalis having a one-sided crush like I hinted in the previous chapter :D I might go back and change the previous chapter to reflect that. Eventually. Probably.

* * * * * * * *

“DECLAN CANSANO, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

The bounty hunter groaned next to Kalis, cowboy hat flown off somewhere into the aether. “Aughhh, fuck me… Fri–Frida?... What're you–...?”

Shouting, spotlight, police sirens, sounds and colors and oppressive darkness all melding into one. 

Was Kalis dead? 

That car must have hit her. Yes. Because otherwise that meant that the bounty hunter had saved her WHILE trying to kill her.

And that didn't make any damn sense.

She couldn’t keep track of what was going on around her anymore, the world spinning much too fast for her to comprehend, blackness crushing her in on all sides, threatening to swallow her whole as it crashed over her in tumultuous waves. 

She laid her head down on the pavement with a small groan.

She'd just… sleep for a moment. 

Frida was here. 

Everything would be okay now…

Officer Galleta slid over the hood of the car with practiced ease, shouting and swearing like a sailor as she landed on top of the bounty hunter, literally straddling his legs while still pointing her gun at his head. He dazedly tried to shove back from her.

“I cannot believe you!” she bellowed. “Out of all the selfish, horrible, ungrateful things you've done, that has got to be one of the worst! Killing my girlfriend?! You absolutely dense motherfucker, you bitch, you–”

“Is… is that… Frida?...”

“Si Cabrón, obviously! Who else would it be?!”

“Frita-hermanitaaa~” he giggled in a daze. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?”

“Don’t you ‘Frita-hermanita’ me, you fuck! Take that stupid fucking bandana off, you look like you’re wearing a Halloween costume!” Her voice shook with barely kept-rage, teeth bared and eyes fiery red as she plopped down on the stomach of the bounty hunter and ripped the bandana off his face with venomous fervor. He let out an ‘oomph’ as her knee dug into the soft flesh of his stomach, along with a whiny ‘go away, leave me alone.’ Although the hunter didn’t seem particularly disturbed by it. More… pissy.

“Stop wavin’ that thing around, you’re gonna shoot someone,” the mercenary groaned. He made a half-assed attempt to grab at the gun just as the muzzle shoved into the vulnerable underside of his chin, another hand pinning him to the ground by the lapel of his shirt. He grew still.

“I should be so lucky,” Officer Galleta growled.

God, she’s so hot, Kalis oggled. Pretty pretty.

“I should shoot you right now for what you almost did,” she hissed.

“Oh calm down, you and I both know I wasn’t gonna actually kill her, ya baby. Your fuckass car definitely would have though. I saved her ass. You’re welcome.”

“Right! And now I get the honorable privilege of shoving my gun down your throat instead of watching you slit hers. So yes, thank you Declan, for your extreme altruism.”

“That’s how I roll. I’m sure your girlfriend is grateful too! You should take her out to a lovely candle-lit dinner while I finish my job and take a 20-hour nap. Now let me up.”

Officer Galleta let out a sharp laugh into the chilly night air, bouncing off the trees around them, crystal clear and all-encompassing. “You want me to just let you go? After all that?!”

He opened his mouth, only to stop short, eyes flashing briefly over to Officer Brooks’ half-conscious form. He propped himself up, wholly disregarding the gun shoving into his trachea as he leaned in closer to Frida’s rage-etched features, voice dropping to a gravelly fast mumble.

He whispered, “[Frida, what’re you even doing here? You know what will happen if my boss finds out we talked to each other.]”

“Oh that's rich–”

“[No, Frida!]” he urged. “[Look, I know you’re angry and I’m sorry I made you come all the way out here, but you know what Lana’ll do if she finds out! You’ve seen what will happen, you’ve felt–]” he reached up and gently grasped her shoulder, where Frida immediately slapped his hand away and gripped at the site defensively. “[–what will happen! And look I’m sorry for scaring you and your girlfriend, but whatever you decide to do tonight, I’m leaving with my hostage, because I’d rather not see anyone maimed again, or KILLED, by some cutesy pastel psychopath–]”

Frida shoved her gun further into his neck. “[Shut UP, Declan, I know! I’m gonna let you go, I was just… ]” She took a deep breath, barely restraining her anger. Then she didn’t. She slammed her fist down on his chest, hard. 

“[GOD, FUCK YOU and your terrible life choices!]” 

Declan barely flinched. His hand fell to the melted and twisting flesh that shined off his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his arm in the spotlighting headlights of the police cruiser. Eyes vacant. He sighed, letting himself look past the Frida and stare dead-eyed upward at the cloudless sky. 

The stars look so pretty tonight.

So far removed from the torment of humanity…

“... Can’t say I disagree.”

Frida’s gaze softened slightly. 

He shoulders untensed

She sighed. 

“[Deccy, we… you can’t keep doing this.]”

His gaze flicked downward. He sighed. “[Can you get off of me?]”

“[What would it take? How do I get that woman off your ass?”]

[“Frida, there is no ‘getting her off my ass.’ She knows everything about me, she knows all my secrets, she knows who you are, she knows who I am, what I am... She’ll tell everyone.”]

An unbearable pause.

[“Would that really be so bad?”] Frida finally pleaded. She had no other solution. Declan shot her a look.

Yeah…

“[I’d have to shoot her dead to get rid of her,”] Declan resigned. [“And her bitchy little boyfriend, and whatever fail-safes they have in place. You know that the police won’t help me–]”

“[But I can help you!]

“[–and YOU’RE certainly not allowed to help, because before you say anything, I’m not letting you risk your life for me like that. Period.”] 

Frida went to argue with him, but she just barely caught that stupid little sparkle returning to his stupid red eyes. God dammit. “[Your girlfriend, on the other hand… I mean if you were willing to hit her with your car, maybe she–]”

And Officer Galleta’s spirited anger returned tenfold, voice soaring high above the trees. “You really don't know when to quit, do you?!”

He laughed. “Nahhhh.”

“I’m just trying to help you!”

“Don’t need it, thanks. Let me up.”

“What if I shot you right here and now?”

“Fuckin’ do it! Finish the job your girlfriend couldn’t! Shoot me. Be her knight in shining armor, you won’t!”

Officer Brooks’ eyes shot open. What was all the shouting about?

“All this talk about saving our lives, and you don't even want to save yourself!!”

“Wait, wait, so… huh?” Kalis tried to interject. God, her body hurt so much. Were they… Were they whispering at each other just now?  “What is happening, I don’t– Why were you speaking Spanish?” Kalis groaned, forcing her head to leave behind the cotton balls and clouds. “What did you say?”

“Look, either shoot me or let me up, Frida,” the man deadpanned. “Kill me. I know you want to.”

Frida growled, every muscle in her body tensed, on fire, shaking as she shoved the muzzle of the gun even further into his chin, forcing his head back to grind further into the asphalt. She kept it there for a long while. 

So long. Too long. Holy shit was she actually gonna–

Officer Galleta suddenly yelled out, an enraged howl, and bounded off the bounty hunter, kicking a couple of rocks into the ditch sidelining the road. “Augh, this is just like you! Every single time I try to talk to you, you deflect and refuse to talk even though you’re– AUGH!! I just want to help you Declan! And you pull me into your illegal, unethical bullshit–...” She charged back over to him, holding out her hand for him to grab. “Get up. Now.”

He grabbed her hand back and popped right up to standing, dusting himself off as Officer Brooks stared at them, mouth literally agape. She hadn’t– She just– 

“You look like shit, by the way,” Officer Galleta commented. 

“I feel like shit," Declan chuckled. "Haven’t slept in like three days–” 

“And you’re fuckin’ high, too.” 

“Ehhhhhh, you caught me.” 

“Frida?... What’s going on?” Kalis tried to interject again. Her voice felt so small. She could barely hold back her tears, her chest felt like it was splitting open. 

Frida was a dirty cop…?

“Can you at least pretend to care about your own life as much as I do?” Officer Galleta snarked.

He scoffed. “Yeah, care so much that you’d pull a gun on me and threaten to kill me?”

Her mouth fell open, speechless for a moment. 

”I– I–... You–”

“Wouldn’t have actually died? Just like your girlfriend wouldn’t have?”

“No! I-I wasn’t actually gonna shoot you!”

“Right,” the mercenary deadpanned. “You were just gonna hit us both with your car so I couldn’t even save her.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?!” Galleta cried. “You saved her from getting hit! And no one had to die at all! This isn't just about your life, asshole! It’s about mine, it’s about my girlfriend’s, our family’s, the people that you kidnap and torture!”

“Oh fuck off, Frida. Having to deal with you is worse than having to torture people, truly.”

“Stop doing it and you won't have to deal with either!”

“Or,” Declan spat. “YOU could leave me alone. Like I keep asking you to!”

Frida’s jaw might as well have been on the floor. “I'm not leaving you alone just because you can't get away from some psycho bitch you fell for ten years ago!”

The bounty hunter’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Sorry for thinking I could actually love someone countless years ago! So sorry for my naivete! Maybe you should inform your secret girlfriend of the Cansano family curse before she gets tortured and murdered too!” 

“Oh no, you’re the one who let her get into your pants BEFORE you knew she was fucking insane and then find out about your stupid little secret–” 

“No, I’m the one trying to make sure you don’t get turned into a lab rat or brutally tortured and murdered because you don’t understand how fucking insane she can be–” 

“–and saw an opportunity to exploit your ‘oh I can’t actually KILL people, I’ll murder them with my stupid little cowboy gun–” 

“– even though you were literally there when she threw acid on us and I protected you–” 

“–then make them feel better’ BULLSHIT WHEN WE BOTH KNOW IT COULD BE USED FOR SO MUCH GOOD BUT INSTEAD–” 

“–because that’s what family DOES INSTEAD OF BECOMING A FUCKING TRAITOR–” 

“–YOU BENT TO HER WILL UNTIL I LITERALLY HAD TO CHANGE MY NAME–”

“–WHO SELLS OUT YOUR HER FAMILY JUST TO WORK FOR THE GOVERNMENT–”

“SHUT UP!!” Kalis screeched out, hands pressing into her ears to block out the dizzying noise. Both their attentions turned to her at once, their childish shouting match thankfully screeched to a grinding halt. A dirty cop and a bounty hunter, staring at her. Enemies. Villains.

“Frida!” Kalis cried. “I-I– I don't– what's going on with you?”

Frida’s face melted into a mask of terror as she took in Kalis’s prone form, still sprawled out where the bounty hunter had dove them both out of the way of her oncoming car. “Kalis! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

Kalis skittered away from the cop. “What is happening?! Why– Why are you talking to him like that?! Why were you yelling?”

“I–” Galleta’s breath petered out. “Kalis, I know this looks bad–”

“You’re a dirty cop!”

“I’m not a dirty–”

The bounty hunter scoffed under his breath: “You kind of are though–” 

“Shut up!” The two cops yelled at him in unison. He flipped up his hands in surrender and turned to walk away.

“Hey, no, get back here!” Kalis yelled.

The hunter stopped in his tracks and sighed. “Can we please get on with this, I have places to–”

“No! You’re going to prison!” She turned to Officer Galleta. “Look, Frida, I don’t know what’s going on with you and him, but– but– He kidnapped and tortured a boy, Frida! You can’t tell me you’re on his side! I don’t care if he’s like, I don’t know, a love affair, or he’s blackmailing you, or whatever you’ve got going on, but you can’t just sit idly by–”

A barking laugh echoed up and down the highway, a sound that rang off the asphalt and successfully started fringing on Kalis’ absolute last nerve. “Love affair!” the mercenary snorted. “Fuckin’ love affair, holy shit, a love affair! She thinks I’m your boyfriend, Frida! God, no, that would be the day! Shit man, fuck that, fuck that…”

Kalis narrowed her eyes on the cackling man. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

He shook his head. “She’s not my girlfriend, chica. She’s my sister.”

Another pause.

Oh.

Oh. 

Wait, no. 

What?

“I–...” she looked over to Officer Galleta. Frida. Her love. “Huh?” 

Frida took that small step toward Kalis. “I can explain. But I’d never hurt you, and I’m not on his side. I’m on yours. I promise.”

“I don’t–” She wanted so desperately to believe her. So, so bad. “Are you a part of a crime family?...”

“No, I’m–”

“Technically you are–”

“Declan!” Frida snapped. “I swear to god, shut the fuck up.” 

He rolled his eyes and turned his attention elsewhere, while his sister purposefully looked toward her baffled partner. “Look, please understand, I’m not letting him go because he’s my brother, there’s so much–”

Kalis’ eyes widened. “Who said anything about letting him go?”

The color drained from Frida’s face. 

“I– I mean… I’m not–...”  She took a deep, shaking breath, then started talking at about a million miles a second. 

“Look, just listen for a second, you have to understand, lives are at stake here, my life, your life, Declan’s, so many others, I need you to understand I’m trying to make sure no one gets hurt–”

Officer Galleta’s voice faded into the back of Kalis’ mind, static filling her head like thousands of angry bees, only directed by the thunderous pounding of her own heart. It was a strange case indeed, the case of the Traitorous Girlfriend and the Bounty Hunter. The facts and the lies were strewn up across the wall as one, connected haphazardly with spools of knotted red string. Too much, too fast, Kalis couldn’t handle it all, help help–

Stick to the facts, detective:

Frida had a secret villain brother. She was in a crime family? She was a dirty cop. She was a liar. She was just trying to help. Apparently. But what are the promises of a liar if not absolutely meaningless, that of a scoundrel, a fiend? She also wanted to send that boy to his death. She wanted to let a man who captures and kills and tortures set free. She wanted to let him go. She was a liar. She didn’t care that he tried to kill Kalis. She betrayed Kalis. She lied. She just wanted to keep her loved ones safe. She’s a liar. A dirty cop. A liar. A criminal. A liar, she lied, what else had she lied about, was she capable of more, was she capable of killing? Would she just stand by and let her brother kill her girlfriend? Would she help, would she help him torture, HAS she helped him torture, she would kill, liar, killer, betrayal–

Frenzy, frenzy, what was up or down, was was going in with the world–

Human life at stake?

Stan.

Stan was at stake.

Save Stan. That’s all that mattered. Who cared about her stupid life anyway?

She grabbed Frida roughly, desperately grasping at her shirt and yanking her toward the car that held the prisoner. “Frida! Please! He's a kidnapper!”

If she could just show her. 

If Frida could just see.

“He kidnapped a boy, he kidnapped a super, he tortured him, you should see the things that he’s done to that boy! You can’t let him go, you haven’t seen what he's done, he’s a monster!”

“Not a boy,” the bounty hunter lulled, popping back up from where he’d apparently disappeared behind the cruiser that almost hit them. With that stupid fuck-ass cowboy hat on again.

“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously.

“He’s not a boy,” he repeated, meandering back to them. “He’s 22. He’s an adult.”

No no no no no no no, Kalis, stay focused, he’s trying to throw you off your game.

She grabbed her love’s sleeve, pleading. “His name’s Stan, Frida! Stan! I met him, I talked to him, he’s scared, he’s hurt, he’s drugged, he doesn’t even understand what’s going on right now. You brother, that man right there, he tortured him, Frida! He’s bruised and bloody and he has broken bones, he’s collared so he can’t use his powers and your brother dragged him around by that collar he’s a monster Frida, please, we can save him!”

The bounty hunter’s face shifted in her periphery. Angry. Tense.

Focus on your love. You can save the boy, you can save them both.

Frida tried to reason with her, voice slow and pleading: “...Kalis… I know. I know what he does. What he's done–”

No no NO NONONONO!!

“What happens when I see that boy on the news one day?!” Kalis pleaded, literally grabbing Fridas hands and sinking to her knees. “That he was found dead, when I see the report of every gruesome torture he was put through before he was found, and I see him there and knew that I could’ve done something about it, but I let him go? What do I do then, Frida?”

No response. Not some smartass retort from the bounty hunter, not some vile, pleading words to understand from Frida. 

Nothing.

“I promised hi-im,” Kalis wept. “I promised him I’d save him. Please Fri-ida. I-I can’t do this without you, I can't, I need you.”

Frida stared at the ground. She shivered.

“I can’t–” Frida took a large gasp in, voice shaking almost as much as her body. “I can’t– Let–... You. Die.”

The wrathful bounty hunter himself piped up: “I’ll do my best to make sure he’s treated well, yeah?... That’s the best I can do. That’s all I can do.”

His voice was so gentle.

The voice of someone who cared.

The voice of someone placating.

The voice of someone trying to get their way.

Her jaw clenched, so hard she thought her teeth would shatter.

“You… are both… under arrest,” she whispered. 

She reached for her holster. Empty. Shit shit shit shit shit– she jerkily fumbled around her pocket and crashed up to her feet in a frenzy, barely managing to get a proper hold on the mercenary’s confiscated gun before brandishing it directly at the bounty hunter and the dirty cop, the traitor.

The mercenary’s eyes widened. Then narrowed. “That’s my gun.”

“You’re under arrest, you’re both–!” she pointed the gun at Officer Galleta, who took a few shocked steps back. “ –under arrest! For attempted murder of an officer, for aiding and abetting, for corruption, for betrayal, for lying, for everything! Both of you! On the ground! NOW!!”

Silence.

A look passed between the siblings, from the bounty hunter to his partner in crime.

A certain gleam in their eyes,

“Drop your weapons, and get on the ground. Now!” 

“[Frida, that gun doesn’t have any bullets in it,]” the bounty hunter muttered under his breath. 

Officer Galleta’s eyes went wide. She looked to her brother. He nodded. 

She knew that sparkle in his eyes.

God. Fucking. Dammit.

“[I better see you again. Fuck you.]”

“[Love you too. Thank you.]”

“Shut up!” Officer Brooks shouted. “No talking, put your hands–”

Officer Brooks screeched in surprise, in fear, in heart-pounding, blood-racing fear as Officer Galleta broke into a sprint and lunged at her. 

And she accidentally pulled the trigger of the deadly gun grasped in her hands.

At the one she loved.

No.

NO. 

NONONONONONO–

She screamed.

Click.

And she slammed into the ground, all breath knocked out of her violently, her girlfriend scrambling on top of her to pin her down, Kalis scrambling and screeching under that to get up, grappling and shrieking until the muzzle of a standard-issue police gun dug into her chest.

She froze.

Done.

It was over so quickly.

From so close, Kalis could see the tears in Officer Galleta’s eyes.

Her voice cracked.

“Frida… Please… Don’t–”

The bounty hunter swooped by, crouching down just enough as he sprinted to grab his gun and kept running toward his truck. He didn’t look back.

“NO!!” Kalis screamed into the inky black nothingness of the night, into the ghostly white and shadowed and tear-stained face of the person she had trusted most in this world, loud enough that it woke Stan up from his drug-induced haze for the shortest of moments and made him look around in confusion at the sorrowful screams that surrounded him, make him struggle as the driver side door slammed open and shut and Declan scrambled with almost unbelievable abandon to get the engine to turn over.

And Stan cowered away from him, insurmountable fear worming through his mind: He’s going to hurt me again.

“Frida!” Kalis gasped. “Frida, Frida, please, we have to save him, we have to save that boy, we still have time we can still save him let me up let me go please please PLEASE DON’T DO THIS I PROMISED!! I PROMISED HIM FRIDA! I PROMISED I WOULD SAVE HIM I PROMISED PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME A LIAR–”

Officer Galleta didn't say anything. She couldn't. She was frozen to the spot, paralyzed. Except for the minute shudder of her chest, except for the tears that started to fall.

And they stayed like that until the truck of Declan Cansano rumbled to life and screeched off into the night.

* * * * * * * *

Next (when posted)

AND if you'd like to know what's happening in the sludge that is Stan's mind during this scene, check out this drabble!: This Edible Ain't Shiiiiiii~~ (*enters warp space*)

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[chamerionwrites]

"An ancient English law made it a crime to witness a murder or discover a corpse and not raise a 'hue and cry.' But we live in a world of corpses, and only about some of them is there a hue and cry."

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