#he just expected them to work past that rottenness and do their damn jobs - but alas!

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

random but it struck me that age is just another parallel/anti-parallel that Jon and Jaime will share. Jaime was 16/17(?) when he made the fateful choice to kill Aerys, which forever besmirched his honor and caused him to be “the Kingslayer” (deragatory). Jon was about the same age, 17/18, when he made the fateful decision to march south against the Boltons, something that will undoubtedly dent his already shaky reputation and could cause him to be “the deserter” (also deragatory).

We always talk about how Jaime stagnated and wallowed in his nihilism after Aerys’ death, never growing or maturing past that point; in a way, he was always mentally stuck at 17. Jon could very well die given the wounds he received during the mutiny, and though he will be revived, he will be always be physically stuck at 17, never maturing past that point. But I think Jon has been more successful in a way that Jaime never was in that he figured out quite early (when he was 15) that though he may lose his honor, he must keep pushing for the greater good. He understood the concept of “a bastard’s honor”, and is even more fortunate to receive Tyrion’s lesson of using one’s lowly position/lack of honor to his advantage, which he has been doing to enact what he considers to be the moral goods (ref “bastard” “guilty of that, at least”). P.S: I also think it’s funny given Aemon’s advice to kill the boy in order for the man to be born. Ironic that Jon will always be a boy physically.

Jaime grew physically but not so much mentally. Jon grows mentally (it’s actually his strong suit as a character how much he matures with each book) but he will have sacrificed the ability to age normally as a boy would. Jaime lost his honor at ~17 and is characterized but years of (mental) inaction. I think Jon, on the other hand, will lose his honor but will be more and more prone to making decisions, because to hell with it all.

[actuallysaiyan]

Lose You Tonight(DMC3!Dante x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, slight implications of cheating/unfaithfulness, Dante being a bad boyfriend, oral sex/cunnilingus, pussy worship, submissiveness, domination, vaginal penetration, slight pussyjob word count: 2k pairings: DMC3!Dante x Fem!Reader a/n: Here is a little fic I thought up when I listened to the band HIM again(after receiving the entirety of Viva La Bam for christmas and just reliving early to mid 2000s again) This fic is based off the song Lose You Tonight, as the title suggests. For the best reading experience, I recommend listening to the song or at least looking up the lyrics.

You weren’t exactly sure what changed within your loveable boyfriend, but he has been a bit more of an asshole lately. Just little things that were starting to come out and it was really starting to worry you. At first, you would brush off the little jabs and quips at you, but when he was starting to give you the silent treatment, you wondered if you were really good enough for Dante. 

You had met him when he saved you from a horde of demons that was attacking your apartment building. He was so sexy and so charming. The kind of boyish charm you expected from a devil hunter who wore no shirts. He was smitten by you from the moment he laid eyes on you, and it really didn’t take long for the two of you to start dating.

But after months of being together and you had finally moved in with him, you were worried maybe this wasn’t what he actually wanted. And it was starting to piss you off that he was spending more time with Lady than you. Even when they weren’t out together on a job, they would spend long nights in the office just drinking and reminiscing about certain moments where you weren’t present.

It all blows up in your face when you come home after a long shift at your job and you notice how Lady is at the office and sitting right on Dante’s desk. Them being close like this shouldn’t make you so angry, but it’s been going on for too long. You try to make your way past them, but Lady makes a comment.

“Finally home from work, huh?”

There’s something about her tone and the way Dante is just chuckling that irks you. You feel tears brimming your eyes and you mutter something under your breath as you make your way upstairs. As soon as you’re away from prying eyes, tears slide down your cheeks.

You make your way into the bedroom and you begin packing a bag. You weren’t going to stay here another night. Dante had made his choice, and to you this was so damn clear. 

A knock at the door interrupts your thought process, and you stop packing your bag once he steps inside. Dante feels a guilt so deep inside of him, and it’s been eating him up for a little while now. His stomach drops when he sees that you’re packing a bag. He rushes over to you and places his hands on yours.

“Baby, no…please, don’t do this to me.”

You rip your hands away from him, “are you fucking kidding me? Dante, I’ve been trying to get your attention for what feels like weeks. I can’t do this anymore.”

His heart is breaking and he’s shaking as he realizes what’s really happening. There’s that sinking feeling in his stomach again when he sees the mascara running down your face from the tears you’ve been crying. He’s been pretty shitty to you lately, and it’s been difficult for him to keep pushing you away.

But you’re so damn pretty, and soft…and you make him dinner every night, and he wakes up to morning sex at least three times a week. You’re so wonderful when you kiss him and smile that gorgeous smile of yours. Dante finds himself incredibly smitten by you, but he has this rotten habit of pushing people away. He is so scared to lose you, but he’s waited his whole life for a love like this.

“Dante,” you breathe, “Why are you still here? Just go be with her,”

“N-no, please. I wanna be with you.”

There’s a slight tremble in his bottom lip as he pouts. He grabs the backpack from you and pulls it out of your reach. You groan loudly and try to snatch it from him, but he only pulls it further out of your reach.

“I’m not losing you. I won’t fucking lose you, not when I’ve been waiting so long for you.”

You’re shocked to hear these words coming from your boyfriend. He’s so boyish and bratty, but on occasion he has shown you the softer side of him. He isn’t all puns, jokes and goofing off. Dante holds you on a pedestal that nobody else could even fathom being on. Your love reminds him of his mother’s warmth and the love and affection she would give to him.

“I’m just tired, Dante. I’m tired of trying to be the one you love. But if that person is Lady, I’d much rather you go to her and spare me the pain.”

He’s mentally kicking himself in the ass now. Of course, he’s noticed how you react to him being close to Lady. The devil hunter knows he fucked up, but maybe there’s just something he can do or say to show you how much he loves you. You feel his warmth as he moves closer to you.

“I-I…I can’t live without you. I’m sorry that I’ve been such a jerk.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, “you can’t live without me?”

It’s so simple and yet something that touches your heart deeply. Those words are the most beautiful words you’ve heard in your life. Nothing has ever sounded so sweet.

His long arms pull you in for a bone crushing hug. You gasp softly as he begins crying. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him cry before, and it was moving you so deeply. You cling to him, rubbing his back so soothingly.

“Baby, please don’t leave. I’m so sorry for the way I’ve been acting…I’m just so scared to lose you,”

You look up into his eyes and you see those tears there. A few of them slid down his cheeks, “Why did you treat me like that?”

His breath hitches in his throat, and he isn’t really sure how to respond. Dante has been so damn afraid to fuck things up with you, and he knows his habit of pushing people away just ruins everything he has. With a soft sigh, he finally comes up with the right things to say.

“I didn’t think I was going too far at first,” you cringe at his words, and he panics. “Baby, I just don’t know how to love. It scared me so much. You’re so much better than me, I just don’t even deserve you.”

This catches you by surprise. You never expected him to finally confess these things to you. It’s not long before you’re the one pulling him in for a hug. You know he’s hurting so much inside. Dante has been through so much in his life, and you know that he needs to learn how to love properly. You reach up on your tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Let me learn how to love you,” he says breathlessly, and you sigh.

“Do I need to teach my sweet devil how to love?”

Without another word, you press him back onto the bed. He lets you take control, not wanting to fuck up anything else. You crawl on top of him, kissing him hungrily. You want to show him that you’re so much better than Lady. You can be the woman he needs. You already are that and so much more.

“I never wanna see you be flirty with her again, do you understand?”

Dante groans, “y-yes, I understand.”

Your hand comes down to his crotch and you squeeze his cock ever so slightly. This makes him moan pitifully, and he’s growing rock hard under your touch. He’s never ever felt like this before, and he knows from now on, he can learn to love you and treat you better.

“I want you to promise me that I’m the only lover you have,”

Dante whines, and he’s practically panting as you continue to palm him through his tight leather pants. He knows he could cum just from this, and especially with the way you keep squeezing, it makes him feel so flustered inside.

“Promise me, Dante. Or else, I’m walking out of here forever.”

“I promise! I promise!”

That’s all you need to hear before you start taking off his clothes. Then you straddle him, making him so much more needier for you. His hard cock slaps against his abdomen as you peel off those boxers. His cock is leaking and red, which only makes you want to taste him. But you need to teach him a lesson.

You coo softly as you begin stroking his cock, and he’s whining so sweetly for you. You know he loves you, he just doesn’t know how to do it properly yet. So, you get off of him and you order him to get on his knees. 

“O-of course, baby! Anything for you,”

You smirk at his obedience. It really doesn’t take much for him to become so submissive to you. Without another word, he gets off the bed and kneels in front of you. You tell him to slowly take off your clothes, and he is so giddy.

“Slower than that,” you command. His wide eyes look up at you and he nods so sweetly. 

His hands are shaking with excitement as he undresses you. He loves looking at your gorgeous body. And as he takes off more articles of clothing, he’s getting the full eyefull now. Once you’re completely naked, his mouth waters at the sight of your pussy.

“Listen to me,” you tell him. He looks up happily, ready to take any command you give him and to do anything you ask of him. “You’re going to lick my pussy now. You can’t use anything but that pretty mouth of yours.”

You shove his face between your thighs and Dante whimpers. You smell so good and as soon as he tastes you, his cock throbs. Your juices are intoxicating to him and he can easily get drunk off the taste of you. His tongue is already at work, swiping over your swollen clit.

“Promise me you’ll never make me feel like second best,” you whine as his tongue slips into your tight hole. You pull him off of you for a second to give him a chance to respond, and he looks dazed.

“I promise, baby. Never again, never gonna make my baby feel like second best. My baby is the best.”

You praise him for being such a good boy and push him back to your pussy. Dante eats you fervently, devouring your very essence like it’s the only thing he’ll ever taste in his entire life. He’d die happy if that’s all he ever tasted again. He knows he’ll never have anything better than you.

“Such a good devil,” you praise him again. He whines against you, sending vibrations through your entire body.

When you pull him away again, the bottom half of his face is drenched in your juices and his eyes are glazed over. You beckon him to crawl on top of you, and Dante wastes no time. You wrap your legs around him and you help guide his cock to your soaked pussy. Dante keeps begging and pleading to be able to fuck you, but you’re just teasing the two of you. You let his cock slip between your soaked folds, but this only makes him whine even more pathetically.

“You don’t love her, do you?” you ask him.

Dante shakes his head violently, “No! No way! Baby, it’s only you. I’m going to show you that I can love you right.”

And with that, he slips into you and bottoms out with one thrust. His lips crash down on yours, making you a little breathless. He rolls his hips so sensually, making sure his cock rubs up against the sweet spot deep inside of you. Tears sting your eyes as you feel all his love coming from this one kiss. Dante pulls away but he cups your face and he’s smiling.

“I’ve really been waiting for you all my life,”

[loudblonde]

Simon "Ghost" Riley X Male!Reader Mafia AU (Chapter Four) "Nice?"

Memories from last night, slight miscommunication and panic settle in as (Y/N) realise what happened, but fear not because (Y/N) wants nothing but healthy communication even if they both suck ass at it and is that... friendship forming?

+18 themes, Minors do not interact I will block you. Reblog if you enjoyed, it means a lot more then you realise, leave a comment if you want to be on the tag list. Happy holidays everyone.

Warnings: Cod typical stuff, mentions of abuse, vomit(not Emetophilia), near panic attacks because of some not so nice things. It's still based on the military propaganda game of Cod, so expect stuff like that.

Word Count: 1950 (ish)

Short chapter because I have been away to my dads place baby sitting a 40 kilo big puppy dog who really believe himself to be a lap dog. He isn't, he is very heavy and not really a puppy anymore, hard to write with him constantly demanding attention.

Read on ao3 here

(Y/N) woke with a splitting headache and groaned. The conversations from yesterday vaguely played on his mind as he rolled out of bed. “Why must I be cursed with hangovers?” (Y/N) asked as he stood up carefully, he grabbed the nearest clothes, a big t-shirt as well as some tracksuit bottoms. He hopped into the shower, ignoring the way the water hitting the tile made his head burn with the power of a thousand suns.

Finally out of the shower, dried off and dressed for comfort, (Y/N) headed into the kitchen where the familiar masked man was sitting, his mask brought just up past his lips as he drank a cup of tea. “So much for being able to hold your liquor.” Ghost said.

“I don't usually drink whiskey that quickly one after another. Damn nearly emptied that whole thing, sure does feel like it anyway.” (Y/N) said as he took 2 aspirins before taking them. He swallowed them with cold water before resting his head against the cold glass.

Ghost chuckled. “Well, you made your bed.” He said. “Or well, I made you get into bed.”

“Funnily enough I don’t remember that part.” (Y/N) said. “Although that does… right, sorry you had to do that.” He looked away from the other.

“Isn’t the first time I have done that, won’t be the last. Don’t worry about it.” Ghost said.

“I am going into the basement and enjoying the cold there.” (Y/N) said and didn’t stop to listen to what Ghost said.

He barely made it down the steps before his legs gave out from underneath him. (Y/N) leaned against the nearest wall as the cold floors sucked any heat out from his legs and torso, leaving a cold rotten feeling in his stomach. He grabbed the nearest trash can and puked.

Once done he sat back and wiped his mouth, the burn from his stomach acid stayed at the back of his throat but he couldn’t move.

No. (Y/N)’s eyes remained on his legs, those legs covered and littered in scars, scars no one, not even König had been allowed to see, despite their years together.

(Y/N) pushed away any thoughts about what the other may think or have seen as he tried to control his breathing, he needed to prevent that incoming panic attack.

(Y/N) placed his hands on his head as he groaned out. “I am in the moment, I am calm, and nothing is going on.” He whispered over and over to himself as he gently banged his hands against his head, not causing damage.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked up, only to come face to face with that Ghost mask and those intense eyes. He glared at him. “What?”

“Heard you throw up, figured you needed some water.” Ghost said, holding the glass out.

(Y/N) looked at the glass for a moment before sighing and taking it. He took some of the water, and swirled it around his mouth before spitting it out in the trash can. (Y/N) closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold wall.

Ghost didn’t say anything but didn’t move either, his job was to protect after all, so here he was, protecting and definitely not worried about someone he had met a day ago. No sir, this was just Ghost doing his duty to the Price Family, who (Y/N) was a part of, his boss’s son. At least, that was what Simon was trying to convince himself and Ghost.

Yeah… Simon was definitely getting too close for comfort, he was starting to care for a man he didn’t trust- didn’t completely trust…

“Why did you change my clothes?” (Y/N) asked, voice monotone much like Ghost.

Simon cleared his throat and looked at him. His eyes closed and his hands trembled lightly. “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, don’t worry I didn’t see anything.” He said. “It was dark in your room.”

(Y/N) opened his eyes and looked at him, for a moment Ghost swore the eyes were red yet it disappeared just as quickly as it came, leaving him with those cold dead (E/C) eyes. “Good.” (Y/N) said before standing up. “Don’t undress me again even if I am drunk, I don’t care if I look uncomfortable or anything of that sort, do not undress me.”

(Y/N) grabbed the trashcan and walked up, leaving Ghost behind in the basement to maul over everything. Ghost knew he had made a mistake and he knew the wrath of John Price with mistakes, even though the man was better than his own family by a long shot, not that it took much, John Price was still a man to be feared.

In just that moment, Simon was 17 again, face full of regret as he had lost far too much cargo and the punishment that followed…. The years of having to prove himself over and over again just to work himself up to his position, just to regain Price's trust in him. It hadn’t been fun or pretty, he still had aches where the bullets had entered him. His elbow was graced and it had never been the same, on a cold morning it was still locking up despite years of physical training under his belt.

In short, Simon absolutely hated it. He hated the feeling, the primal fear, no, the terror he felt. He knew (Y/N) ‘earned name’ and he wasn’t ready to be on the receiving end of that.

Simon sat for far too long, his knees started hurting and his whole lower back was cold, wide eyes hid behind his mask when he finally made his way up, when he finally realised he needed to face the consequences of his actions, Simon should have known based on (Y/N)’s answer the day earlier than being seen without clothes was something far far too personal, that it was reserved for that one person, someone he genuinely seemed to care about even if he couldn’t, Simon… no Ghost was not that person, (Y/N) only knew Ghost, the weapon, the tool, the unbroken loyal dog to the Price family. (Y/N) didn’t know Simon, he was probably never going to, there was no need to know Simon, Price knew Simon but (Y/N)... (Y/N) He was just as broken as Simon yet so much more capable of not falling apart, (Y/N) in his eyes, he had no reason for a Ghost of himself.

Simon slowly walked upstairs, each step painful, long and filling his stomach with cold spiked ice. He walked up and up and up, it felt like an eternity, a staircase to hell that only went up, as though all mythology had it wrong, that heaven was deep below where there was warmth and hell was above in the cold clouds. When he finally sat foot above the cellar he looked around, waiting to find someone waiting and yet… he saw no one, well he saw (Y/N) on the couch, big headphones on and music blaring so loudly that even Ghost could hear it from a distance.

(Y/N) was drawing on his sketch block, it was still crude at this point but Ghost could clearly see the agony in the sketch, he left (Y/N) alone and went outside, sitting in the sun, just letting his mask soak up all the heat he had lost in that basement, the good thing about wearing all black, he easily got heated up.

At some point he felt someone join beside him, he looked over to where (Y/N) was sitting with his back turned to him, still drawing and now playing quieter music, Ghost still couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom, but this was… nice? Pleasantly so. He wasn’t being hit or made to do anything, (Y/N) even seemed to trust him enough to sit with his back to him, Ghost knew not why but he had a very strong feeling that much within the family would shift as soon as (Y/N) took over.

(Y/N) knew that Ghost hadn’t been mean about it, he had been drunk, well, influenced and did what he was supposed to do, take care of him. He should have specifically said not to undress him but that was something they could amend. Now (Y/N) just needed to calm down and relax. With something relatively easy. Drawing and music.

So he started by drawing out his emotions, the cold reality of how he felt, getting it down on paper and then folding it away was a good way for him to sit with his emotions and problems without resorting to drinking or other less ideal activities.

He hummed when he finished and turned his music down before placing something a little more quiet on. He decided on good feelings so he started drawing Ghost in a fun halloween suit that had ghosts on it. He eventually walked outside to Ghost where they sat in silence for 30 minutes while he finished colouring in the black and white photograph, he spun around and poked Ghost on the shoulder, the man looked at him and with an almost childlike giddy grin on his face, (Y/N) showed Ghost the picture of Ghost in a Halloween ghost suit.

(Y/N) watched in amusement as Ghost snorted and took the drawing presented to him. He shook his head. “Thank you… and I am sorry, I should have-” “-None of that.” (Y/N) interrupted. “I was responsible for telling you outright but I didn’t, so it’s on me, it is an honest mistake and the fact you apologised means a lot. Just… please don’t again.”

Simon smiled and nodded. “Yes sir.” He said, causing (Y/N) to groan and chuckle.

“Sir makes me feel old, just call me (Y/N) or (Nickname).” (Y/N) said, smiling slightly.

Ghost hummed out. “(Nickname).” In a way he couldn’t put into words, not that he was good at using words, that name, that nickname fit so well on his tongue, so perfect, so… The ice was beginning to melt away.

“Simon… call me Simon.” Ghost, no Simon said.

(Y/N) smiled and bumped his shoulder with him. “Alright, Simon, but this means we are attached now, name buddies, can’t get rid of me now.” (Y/N) said. “Guess I am sticking around.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, (Nickname).” He said.

(Y/N) stood up and held his hand out. Simon took it and stood up before letting go, as (Y/N) turned around to walk back inside, Simon just looked down at his hand. He could still feel the heat from those short 3 seconds, he knew not why but he craved (Y/N)’s touch far more than he wanted to. Somehow (Y/N) had come in and torn down every single wall he had so carefully built around him for years, so carefully put up and reinforced so no one was to get in. After all, friendship isn’t in the field manual they were given, it wasn’t taught to them when Price trained them. It was not usable, it wasn’t necessary and yet, (Y/N), who Simon figured would be just as touch starved, was just coming in here, spending two days with him and already Ghost wants to become familiar, perhaps even friends, they were connected somehow in a way he had never felt before, it confused him and he had just given (Y/N) permission to use his name, to call him Simon and in return, he had been given a nickname to use, it was… nice? Was this friendship?

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@rasberry-jupiter

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[candychronicles]

heavens // t. keigo/hawks

A/N: my take on the roommates theme for the bnharem collab! honestly didn’t know where i was going with this one and it seems a bit random/rushed so i apologize in advance but hope you enjoy nonetheless! 

CHARACTER PAIRING: Takami Keigo/Hawks x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,491

WARNINGS: oral (f!receiving), some language 

SYNOPSIS: despite his growing popularity, you two remained steady roommates, which confused you to no end. what was his true motive in keeping you around? 

And they were roommates! Click here to read more!

Hawks was an interesting character to say the least. when you first moved in, you weren’t all too sure what to expect. he was, at the time, a fairly popular hero, but nowhere near the status he held today. he was charming, suave, friendly and it seemed genuine at the time. things went downhill quick though as his popularity rose and along with it, his annoying, god-like tendencies. 

what you didn’t understand was why he kept you around after all this time. you didn’t necessarily need to live with him still, but as he got more popular and therefore gained more money, the areas he lived in grew nicer and nicer until you were on a gorgeous top floor penthouse with a stunning view, all for the price of your original, dingy apartment. what you could afford on your own would be nowhere near the luxury that he was offering. that’s why you stayed, but you weren’t sure why he offered to let you continue to stay with him after all this time.

sure, you were friends, got along for the most part and when you didn’t, stayed out of each other’s hair, but he didn’t owe you anything and you certainly didn’t want to feel like you were in his debt. yet something attracted the two of you together continuously despite it all. 

what you didn’t know was that Hawks very much enjoyed having you around. you’d deny it until you were blue in the face but he heard one too many times you touching yourself in your bedroom, muffled moans matching those of the girl or guy he was fucking that night. he often did his best to give you a show, cursing, spitting, hitting, anything he could do to rile you up, get you to hear the lewd sounds coming from the apartment. you acted like you didn’t know what he was talking about, scoffed when he invited you to join him or give you his own private show and acted like you didn’t know he was doing that all on purpose just to tease you. 

truth be told, you pushed all those thoughts aside when it came to him. he was attractive, very much so, and also very unattainable, in your eyes anyways. his god-like complex was annoying at times but also very warranted. he was popular with everyone he met-children, women, men, the elderly, hell, you don’t think he ever met a dog that didn’t like him. he was strong, powerful, commanding of the quirk he weld so well. his personality was nothing short of smooth, like honey over ice cream melting on your tongue. you felt so incredibly drawn to him that your brain absolutely shut out any idea of it, giving yourself no hope that he would ever reciprocate the pure feelings of desire you felt towards him. after awhile, your convincing became reality and you began to question everything, desperate to detach yourself from his enigmatic ways. 

hey sweetheart, will be gone for most of the day. left some money for groceries and a little extra for whatever you want. don’t miss me too much

-H

you scoffed at the note pasted to your refrigerator, neon pink glaring at you in the morning sun trickling from the balcony window. he had been gone a lot lately, sometimes bringing home people at night, mostly crashing straight on the couch before he had even gotten a chance to change clothes. you acted like you didn’t miss him, miss his presence, the lingering touches that you swore were just him being an ass and making fun of you, but in reality, you missed the hell out of him. the domesticity that he showed when it was just you two vulnerable late at night, tired from a hard day of work, it made you realize that he wasn’t a god all the time after all.

that thought didn’t change your mind about his attainability, however. in fact, it only seemed to spur your ideals on more, convincing yourself that a man who could be so vulnerable and yet so strong was one who deserved more than what you could give. it would never be you and you were content with that fact, or so you thought.

your day was long and grueling, working patrols and small missions as a pro hero. you were likeable enough but when it came down to it, you didn’t care to be popular, didn’t care to make a ton of money or be interviewed by dozens of people a month. you just wanted to do your job and keep people safe and at the end of the day, that was what you accomplished. 

it was nearly midnight when you returned home, the elevator dinging closed behind you as you walked into the penthouse. the lights were still off, everything in place from this morning, which meant that Hawks had not arrived home yet despite him being gone for nearly the whole day. anger bubbled up underneath your skin. you knew he didn’t owe you anything, you knew you were nothing more than roommates, but sometimes feeling so isolated and alone in this big space with no one to talk to or do anything with left you antsy and annoyed. in simple frustration and retaliation, you locked the balcony window, forcing him to come up the elevator like a dignified man, bringing his nightly fuck in through the lobby instead of sneaking them inside like he often did.

it was nearly six am before you were woken up to a loud thud, the door smacking against the wall. you sighed, allowing yourself to calm down before you tried to go back to bed, but before you got a chance, a knock sounded at your door.

“what?” you asked irately, not in the mood to entertain him and his antics.

“why’d you lock the balcony window?” he asked simply, arms crossed. 

as you sat up to answer, you noticed his calm demeanor not so calm anymore. his chest was flaring up and down, body wobbly, and he reeked of alcohol.

“so much for a calm night,” you muttered. “i locked the door because i didn’t want to hear you fucking any of your whores while i was trying to sleep.”

“oh baby, you know you like it, like the sounds i make, the words i say. all you have to do is admit it and i can be all yours.”

“you wish bird brain,” you spat back at him, done with the conversation as you shimmied yourself back into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and promptly shutting your eyes, ignoring the feeling of his stare burning into your brain.

“i do wish. i wish it were you i was fucking. i’ve wished that since the day i met you, all excited and doe eyed, ready to take on the world and all of its challenges. you never let my fame get in the way, never treat me any differently. you’ve been by my side throughout it all and yet you won’t let me get too close to you. why is that? afraid i’ll break your heart little one?”

you sat back up again quickly only to realize that he had moved to the foot of your bed. he sat down, taking off his boots and shucking them on the floor only to crawl practically into your lap, snuggling into your thigh.

“i won’t break your heart. i’ll only hurt you if you want me to, which i know you do, at least a little bit. but i’d n-never hurt your heart. you’re too precious for that princess, so sweet to me, so so angelic. and yet i can hear your moans through the walls, practically feel you arching off your bed as you chased your high, desperate for a release, wishing it were me who was touching you instead of your own fingers. i can do that you know. all you need to do is say the magic word and i’m yours. no more fucking other people, just me and you. i’ll spoil you rotten, anything you could possibly want and it’s all yours. you’d never have to worry about a thing again, yeah? what do you say?”

your heart hitched into your throat at his babbling confession. surely he wasn’t serious, right? it must’ve been the alcohol talking. you knew that if you said yes he was just going to tease you and tell you that he was joking and never wanted to see you ever again. you were just sure of it… but, in the off case that he was being serious… you couldn’t mess this up.

“yeah, okay,” you replied, voice hitching in your throat as you agreed with him.

you waited a few seconds for the harsh sting of a reply but nothing came. you cast your eyes down to see Hawks passed out, clinging to you as if his life depended on it. sighing, you flopped back down onto the bed, heels of your palms pressed into your eye sockets, brain full of thoughts as you tried to sift through your feelings. eventually you just gave up and passed out against the cool sheets of your bed, too tired to deal with the emotional turmoil you were putting yourself through.

when you woke up the next morning, Hawks was no longer against your thigh but rather plastered to your side. you weren’t sure how you ended up being spooned by the lanky man but it wasn’t necessarily the first time you had cuddled. your brain began working against you almost immediately, convincing yourself that the previous night's events were nothing more than a drunken spur from your roommate and that he did not, in fact, want to be with you.

with those thoughts in mind, you began to wiggle your way out of his grasp, nearly making it out of bed before you felt a hand shoot out and grab you by the wrist. 

“where are you going beautiful? sleep with a man and then ditch him before he even gets a chance to wake up? how heartless of you.”

“oh shut up, you know damn well that we did not sleep together. in fact, you came in here at six in the morning just to simply annoy the hell out of me. now that’s what i call heartless.”

“we didn’t sleep together but we could’ve,” he teased, fingers rubbing gently up and down your arm as he attempted to coax you back into bed, but your mind worked on overdrive, simply not believing that he was interested in you at all. 

“why do you always like to make fun of me, huh? does it give you some sick satisfaction to dangle hope like that in front of my face only to snatch it away from me if i ever say yes?” you spat, getting sick and tired of his games.

“princess, i’m not lying to you, nor am i making fun of you. i would never offer something like this if i wasn’t serious. i want to take care of you in any way i can-emotionally, sexually, financially, anything you need, i want to give it to you. i was trying to drop you hints, give you the space to come to your own conclusions but it seems that i miscalculated how that pretty little brain of yours works. instead of believing that i was seriously flirting with you, it seems as if you thought that i was making fun of you instead. how funny that the mind works like that sometimes. i must admit i was a fool for not seeing it sooner, but now it makes so much sense.”

“what are you rambling on about?” you asked, furrowing your brow in confusion as you tried to make sense of the fact that he was not only dead serious about wanting to be with you but also psychoanalyzing your thoughts at the same time.

“how you would always get mad when i brought people home but never said anything to me, how you always scoffed at my sweet words, would never take money from me despite me leaving it very clearly for you, never getting too close to me despite living together for years. i’m honestly dumbfounded that i didn’t realize sooner. you’ve been in love with me for a long time too, huh? except, unlike me, you truly never thought you had a chance.”

“u-uh, yeah, i-i just, Keigo, what are you really trying to say to me?”

“sweetheart, be mine, wholly and fully in every way possible. let me take care of you like i’ve always wanted, always tried to do. this isn’t some joke or elaborate ruse, i’m not lying to you or trying to hurt you in any way. i really, truly want to be with you.”

you exhaled heavily, not realizing you had been holding your breath the whole time, searching his eyes for any sign of a lie, not finding anything except sincerity and hope.

“okay,” you relented, nodding your head. “yeah, if you say you’re not lying to me, i’ll trust you. i just, i don’t know. i never realized that you actually liked me back. i never would’ve guessed it in a million years. never would’ve thought i would hear any words like that come out of your mouth let alone so sincerely.”

you looked down, twiddling your thumbs as you contemplated the situation once more, but before you could let your brain get the best of you, Hawks placed his slender fingers underneath your chin, lifting your face up so that you could peer at him. he leaned forward slowly, foreheads pressed together.

“is it okay if i kiss you?”

you nodded your head, squeaking out a quiet “yes” before surging forward to place your lips on his, desperate to feel him, desperate to quiet the negative voices in your head and surround yourself with him instead.

he matched your pace eagerly, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to pull you forward even more, his own desperation leaking through the kiss. he was so enamored with you, the way you smelt, your mussy hair, the sparkle in your eyes, the feeling of your soft lips against his own. it was almost too much to handle. he hadn’t been with anyone in awhile, preferring to wait it out and confront you when he had the courage to do so, and he felt himself getting more and more antsy as time went on. he wanted to respect you, treat you with the dignity and honor that you deserved, but in that moment, all he wanted to do was ruin you and mark you as his own.

“baby, you need to tell me if i go to far, yeah? i just want to make you feel good, never uncomfortable. let me take care of you like you deserve,” he panted, adjusting himself closer to you.

“i trust you Keigo. i’m yours.”

he groaned at the sound of you, of how pathetic and weak you were towards him, how you trusted to be vulnerable around him, trusted that he would take care of you. he had never wanted to ruin anything so badly in his life and he was going to do his best to make sure you knew you were his.

the kisses turned more sensual, tongues dipping in and around each other, exploring one another for what felt like the first time ever. for you, it had been awhile, telling yourself that you were too busy to be sexual with someone else when in actuality you had been craving a certain blonde all along. for him, this was something entirely new and special. he never got the chance to be truly intimate with anyone, let his guard down, want to please his partner more than himself, but you were different, special in the fact that you loved him for him and no other reason than that. 

“please Keigo, i need more,” you whined, fisting at his shirt as you tried to pull him impossibly closer to your body. 

“anything for you princess.” 

his shirt came off first, a delicate process he mastered years ago. he reached for your own shirt, fingers playing at the hem as he once again asked permission. you replied by pulling it off yourself, exposing your breasts to him. he immediately latched onto your left nipple, hand coming up to pinch the right, gently coaxing you to lay back down on the bed as he followed, hands and mouth never leaving your body. he laved you with his tongue, leaving a trail of cool moisture in its wake, sucking and biting at every soft spot he could think of, wanting so hard to hear you moan. 

“that’s it baby, don’t be shy. i want to hear you moan, say my name.”

you responded with a groan as his hand came to rest on your clothed cunt, feeling the wetness through your shorts. he smirked at the realization that you did truly want him as bad as he wanted you and the thought had his cock straining in his pants. it wasn’t long before he had freed himself from his confines, watching the way your eyes drank up the sight of him through the filtered light. 

gently, you reached out your hand to paw at his cock, marveling in the way it twitched at the slightest touch. you were enamored by him, all of him. before you kneeled a greek god willing to worship you, a mere mortal. you didn’t know what you did to deserve this but you figured you’d spend the rest of your life thanking the heavens.

“don’t worry about me right now, yeah? let’s just focus on making you feel good,” he cooed, reaching down to gently tug at your shorts.

you lifted your hips up without question, allowing him to pull the fabric down your body, your underwear coming along with it. he greedily watched as your slick stringed against the fabric before snapping. he was amazed that he could make someone so wet just by kissing them and was more than curious to see how soaked he could get you by the end of the morning.

he slowly dropped himself down to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between your thighs. kisses were placed to the soft flesh on your legs, pinching and nipping along the way, relishing in the squeals and moans you let out of your mouth. experimentally, he licked up your slit, watching how your breath hitched and your hands grasped the sheets below you, desperate to hold onto something. he licked again, this time using one of his hands to hold you down and the other to come and open you up. you responded immediately, back attempting to arch off the bed at the already intense situation.

he started up a steady pace, watching each little movement, breath, moan, grasp of the blanket to analyze what you liked best. he was enraptured with you, everything about you. you were so strong, fighting crime like it was nothing, doing anything you could to keep citizens safe and yet here you were, putty in his hands, baring your heart for him, trusting that he would take care of you.

the pressure inside of you slowly built up. it was like an intense heat you had never felt before, white hot and pulsing inside your abdomen. you clutched the sheets, your thighs, his hair, anything you could to purchase yourself to this earth as he brought you closer and closer to the promised land. finally, with one final lick, you came, crying out his name in a symphony of praises, singing to the high heavens.

he watched as you came done around his tongue, how your breath labored, eyes screwed shut, face flush and face twisted in pure pleasure. it was a magnificent sight to see, you so relaxed and carefree, enjoying every feeling that flooded over you.

when you had finally come down and your breathing began to even out, you opened your eyes to find Keigo still nestled between your thighs, head resting gently on you.

“how are you feeling love?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your hip.

“like i just left this world and came back,” you answered truthfully, laughing at his proud expression.

“are you okay? is there anything i can get for you?”

“no, Keigo, i think i’m okay,” you answered truthfully.

for the first time in a long time, you felt at ease. your body was relaxed, your mind foggy from the pleasure and you had the man you loved staring up at you like you were the only thing in this world that mattered.

“good, i’m glad you’re okay because we’re not done here. lay back down baby bird, let me make you feel good.”

[fanaticartisan]

He’d never slipped in a trial before.

He faced seemingly endless terrains, in the eternal darkness of The Entity’s realms. Snow and grass, concrete and stone, slick with rain or sticky with blood, none of them had ever made him so much as falter, in trails past. He paced over them all, his booted stride unstoppable, as steady as a wave cutting through an endless ocean.

But today it was mud, and as the survivor he’d been hounding flailed over the stone ledge and he followed, his boot hit something hidden in the sludge. His foot slipped, and between the weight of his metal head and the shiver of something spiteful in the air, he wasn’t able to keep himself from falling. He hit with a splat of hollow iron on wet earth, stars bursting before his vision as the wind left him in a gurgling rush. 

For a moment he lay there, stunned. Rain pattered down, cold against his iron face, cold against his blood-caked skin. And then, finally, he choked in a breath of moist, muddy air, and stirred, trying to rise. His body hurt. The mud was slick under his hands as he attempted to push himself up. Worst of all, his face was well and truly stuck - one of the large, planar sides sunk an inch or two into the muck.This was a punishment, he was sure. Small, petty, cruel - something more subtle than The Entity’s usual means, but frustrating enough nonetheless. Unless - and the thought chilled him more than the cold water seeping into his clothes - unless he was just losing his edge, like a blade hammed too many times against a hard, dull surface.

Impossible. He sank down again, a low growl rumbling from his throat. He’d never faltered in his duty. He was the Executioner - the punisher of the guilty, inflicting pain upon those who had caused pain, and torment upon those who had tormented. He’d pursued such foes long before The Entity had brought him here, and he’d performed with righteous determination, even to the degree of ignoring his new master’s will when necessary, to get the job done.

Maybe that was why...

Something flashed out of the corner of his eye. He stopped struggling, falling still as steps and whispers drew closer, just outside the field of his vision. A snarl of anger coiled in his chest: the wicked dared approach him! He needed to stand, to run them through with his blade and punish them for their countless days of wrongs and cruelty; pallets smashed against his face, blinding light shined into his eyes, sharp stones driven into his flesh. He wanted to hack them all to pieces, Entity and its hooks be rotted.

But he was still stuck - still aching and short of breath. It would take too much struggle to get up and after them, even assuming he could free himself on his own. Rather than hear their mocking laughter at his torment, he lay in silence, waiting for them to pass, hoping that his stillness and the filth that covered him would be enough to hide him from their prying eyes and shining lights.

He should have remembered that The Entity glutted itself on hope. And despair.

“Hey, guys! Look...”

A light shone against his back. 

“Is that..?”

“It is! But what’s he doing?”

“Is he alright?”

“Hey….” someone nudged his boot, and he growled in warning. If only his blade were in his hand….

“Don’t touch him!”

“Is he hurt? I’ve never seen him fall before.”

“Scary…”

“We should finish up the gens and get out of here.”

A silence as the rest of the group considered this. Yes, he thought bitterly, finish your tasks and be returned again. He would fell them like the rotten trees they were. He strained to reach his blade, but it was too far, several inches out of his reach.

“Careful, he’s moving!”

“I think if he could hurt us, he would have done it by now.”

“Maybe his back is broken.”

A thrill of fear went through him at that idea. He didn’t feel broken, but…

“The entity will take care of him. Just leave him be, and let’s get out of here.”

“You guys go.”

A silence. Out of the corner of his vision, The Executioner could see their forms, all as dirty and worn as himself, turn and look at the speaker.

The Executioner didn’t know their names. He didn’t know anything about them at all, he realized, not their faces nor connections, or even what crimes had brought them here. The visage of the speaker was dirty, scared, but determined, even when greeted with the accusing stares of their teammates.

“You’re crazy.”

“Always crazy.”

“You can use my medkit.”

The namecallers fell silent, staring at the forth survivor. A small, metallic clank of red metal hitting the ground filled the space between them. The crazy survivor smiled, a small, grateful thing, and for the first time, in years of violence in cold, The Executioner felt something new.

A seed of doubt, lodged deep in his core.

 What had the survivors done, to warrant the punishment he inflicted on them?

The others moved off, their feet sucking and splatting in the mud. He was left with the crazy one, who remained behind him, opening the medkit, presumably checking its contents.

“I’m going to touch your back, and look for damage” they said.

The Executioner rumbled a threat, but didn’t move, even as the survivor bent over him and he felt gentle, warm fingers probing his spine.

“All this blood,” the survivor murmured. “Is it yours?”

It was, for now. The corners of his face were iron and sharp, and every time a pallet slammed into him, they cut deeper into the flesh of his shoulders. He couldn’t explain this to the survivor, though, so he said nothing.

“I don’t know if spines should bend this way,” the survivor said, lingering somewhere at the small of his back. “I don’t feel anything broken or swollen, so I assume it’s just how you are. Or how you’ve become.” The survivor shifted a bit, looking at the blade lying just out of his reach in the muddy grass. “You wear that metal thing, and drag your sword around. I’ve seen you prop it up, when you think no-one is looking. Even one of them would be heavy, on their own, but you always have both…well. It’s enough to explain your back, anyway.”

He growled a little. Of course they were heavy - heavier with each death he caused. Just as he punished the damned, so too he was punished, in turn, for the pain he caused. But he wouldn’t expect a human to understand that.

The hands remained on his back a moment, warm against the chill of the weather and damp. “Are your legs hurt?” the survivor asked. “Your neck?”

The Executioner hesitated a moment. And then he sighed, the noise wet with mud and rainwater. He shifted his weight, slowly, so as not to startle the crazy one, and made a show of pushing against the ground, unable to budge his suctioned-down face.

“Oh, I understand. Okay, just...hold still a moment, and I’ll see what I can do.”

The survivor changed their position, working their hands - fingers worn and calloused from endless hours working on generators - into the muck, and under the edge of his triangular face. “On three,” the survivor said. “One...two…”

They both heaved on three, The Executioner groaning as he shoved with all his might. Slowly, with a great sound of squelching, his face came free, and eventually they both fell back, shaken but victorious. The Executioner was on his feet in an instant, his entire right side coated with muck, a grumble of relief escaping his chest.

The survivor had scrambled up too, and took a step back. “Forgot you’re so tall,” they said under their breath, casting him a furtive glance.

He gave them a look, and bent again, pulling his blade free with another squelch.

An echoing clang made them both jump. The forest blazed with light - three generators completed at once. The Executioner rumbled with displeasure - The Entity was going to punish him for this failure, he knew. But the trial was already lost, on his end. Even if he went after the survivors with full force, he doubted he’d finish them in time.

And anyway…

He looked at the crazy one - the one who still lingered near, knowing full well that he was put here to punish them. They looked back at him, clearly nervous, but hoping for...something.

“You can keep this,” they said, setting the red medical kit at his feet. “Maybe you can use it for your shoulders. I don’t know if it can help you, but-”

Another flash and clang, further away now. Four generators done.

The Executioner stared at the little red box. It didn’t make sense. He was supposed to punish the wicked, but this survivor clearly ...wasn’t wicked. Wicked people didn’t help fallen enemies.

If this survivor wasn’t wicked, how did he know if the others were?

Was everything he had done until now...a mistake?

Or perhaps it wasn’t a mistake. He looked at the survivor - dirty, but uninjured, and he looked at himself, his tunic soaked in his own blood. The Entity fed on hope and despair. Perhaps it was not only the survivors it was feeding off of. Perhaps the bulk of its nourishment came from himself, and the others like him - the ones who were eternally in pain, with no tools or allies to heal them. He thought of Evan’s hooks, and Spirit’s severed limbs. Sally’s ruined face,  Lisa’s...everything. The entity had broken them all - far, far more than it had broken the survivors.

The last generator clanged into light. The Executioner gave a rough sigh, and turned, marching towards the gate as the crazy survivor followed.

He didn’t look at them as he opened the gate. Didn’t look at any of them as they ran past, unharmed and unable to believe their good luck. He knew the crazy one lingered, wanting to meet his gaze, but he didn’t give them the satisfaction.

At last they were gone, and he strode through the grass with The Entity’s displeasure heavy on his bleeding shoulders and the trial-realm collapsing in sparks and ash behind him, taking the offered medical kit with it. Only once they were all back around their fire, and he lurked in the shadows, watching, did he look at their faces, and let himself wonder. Why had the crazy one helped him? Why had the other left their precious kit, to possibly aid in his recovery? Would they even remember, in the next trial, that they had done these things?

Would he remember?

Not once in past trials had he questioned the world he found himself in, in all the endless days of work and violence. But now, for the first time, he found himself wishing for more knowledge. Wishing for a way to escape this world, as killer or survivor.

Or, failing that, for a way to forget the questions that now hung over him like dark crows. The Entity fed on despair. Now more than ever, he didn’t want to give it what it wanted.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "Through The Looking Glass Ruins" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who most certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck! I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!

When Disney announced episode titles/synopsis for the new season (On a day that left my head SPINNING!), there was one episode that I knew deep down that would cause controversy and discourse amongst the fandom. And that episode was "Through the Looking Glass Ruins." Not because it would be bad, far from it. Instead, because the episode was a Gus episode with a Lumity subplot, that meant that discourse would start as fans decide which story they prefer more. A situation that, might I add, would result in no winners.

Do you prefer the Lumity plotline? Well, guess what! You're a racist who chose to talk about an overrated ship rather than a heavily underrated character who just so happens to be a person of color.

Do you prefer Gus' plotline? Well, guess what! You're a homophobe who decided to shine a light on a character who's underrated for a reason instead of praising a ship that just so happens to involve two girls.

Either side you pick is going to result in making people mad. The only way to avoid that is by explaining in heavy detail that you still enjoyed one side despite preferring the other. Even if you loved both, you'll most certainly have to explain to everyone that you mean it and that you're neither racist nor homophobic. And all I have to say is this: F that.

F that S in the A right now.

Because I, or anybody else for that matter, shouldn't have to explain myself when it comes to saying why I prefer one plot line or the other. I shouldn't have to prevent getting ripped apart by some bulls**t, black and white mentality of people who can't accept that others like a show for different reasons than they do.

You wanna know what I think about "Through the Looking Glass Ruins?" Well, continue reading to find out. You'll have to make your way through spoilers, but it's the only way for you to learn why I consider this episode not worth any discourse that I'm already certain is cropping up.

Now, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

The Opening Scene: I'm kind of digging how snappy and to the point these opening scenes are getting. In the span of what has to be less than a minute, we're given all the information we need to know: Gus is insecure about his illusion magic because he accidentally got Willow injured. It's a great way of setting up why Gus wants to prove himself to the Glandus students and a great way of showing how much Willow's friendship means to him. Look at how he's reacting a few days after the incident. He's still mopey and guilty about it, and I feel bad for the little guy.

Gus in General: And while we're already talking about him, let's give this episode a round of applause for giving Gus the spotlight without having him screw over his friends...except for Willow.

"Through the Looking Glass Ruins" really fleshes Gus out much more so than past episodes. As I said, it plays heavily into his own insecurities while proving how he's capable as an illusionist. He's also the best possible outlet to explore more about what illusionist magic can really do. It can't hurt anybody or work well in a fight. Instead, its strengths lie in the act of convincingly tricking others into thinking that something that should be fake is actually real. And Gus got to prove he really is a super witch because of his illusions through a jaw-dropping scene that's as dark as it was enthralling. The fact that he did it all by himself, without the help of an illusion elder who was right there, is honestly even more impressive. A lot of people aren't that interested in Gus as a character, but I feel like, after this episode, he certainly won a few more fans over.

Willow Getting Injured and Missing the Episode: This is a smart move, in my opinion. Willow acts as the voice of reason in the friend group, so if she tagged along with Luz and Gus right away, she would have easily talked Gus out of joining the Glandus kids on a dangerous quest. I love Willow, she's a solid character, but writing her out is really the only way the plot could have progressed.

(I also love that she wasn't mad in the slightest over Gus getting her hurt. She has every right to be, but she also understands that it was an accident, and Gus wouldn't do anything to purposefully hurt her. And that's sweet!)

King’s Prerecorded Message for Gus: That's just adorable. We need more cute friendship moments between these two, DAMN IT!

Gus Being Sick of Luz’s S**t: Of all the characters I expected to get sick of the whole Lumity situation, Gus wasn't really one of them. I'd always thought it'd be Willow, primarily because the rest of the fandom latched onto that idea, but for Gus, I'd figured he'd be more supportive rather than annoyed. That being said, seeing him call Luz out for borrowing his library card to see Amity (Not ask her out. Just to see her) is not only a hilarious moment for Gus but also an adorable moment for Luz. It's something I would never have seen coming, but now that I have it, I want more. GIVE ME MORE!

(Sorry if I'm being a little intense)

Luz Trying to Cheer Up Gus: It's moments like this that prove why Luz is my favorite character.

Willow might have the most common sense out of the group, but it's Luz who still has the biggest heart. She knows her friend is down in the dumps, so Luz pulls out all the stops in cheering him up. Whether it's researching the first-ever human (really surprised he wasn't the tiniest bit excited about that, by the way) and lending him glyphs for his mission to help show up Mattholomule. She may be slow in the romantic relationship department, but episodes like this prove that she excels with a platonic friendship.

Bria: I consider Amar adorably optimistic, and I have no strong feelings for Gavin, one or the other. But with Bria? Holy hell, did the writers do everything they should with her!

At first, it seems like she'll be a generic nice girl for Gus to have a crush on. Only for that writing to be a perfect twist into how she's kind of the worst. You see hints of her true personality in the overly sweet way she threatens to force Amar to eat a bug he gets distracted by. A viewer's initial reaction to that would be to think that while she's sweet, she still means business. But no, it's actually a perfect way to reveal her true intentions while hiding them at the same time. Bria may be rotten to the core, but with how perfectly executed this twist was, I can't help but adore her contribution.

Mattholomule: ...I would sooner expect to have gone insane before believing that this little s**t weasel would make his way onto my good side. Despite that, here we are in episode five of the new season, and I like Mattholomule now.

The reveal that Glandus High forces students to believe that the strong survive and the weak are inferior explains so much for Mattholomule's thirst for power in "Something Ventured, Someone Framed." It doesn't excuse his actions, not by a long shot, but it definitely paints a clearer picture. It also explains his treatment of Gus, as well as Mattholomule's reasoning to help him. Because of Glandus High inserting a "the strong survive" mentality into Mattholomule, he belittles Gus due to thinking that illusion magic makes Gus weak. But after seeing how they're both stooges to Bria's mistreatment, he's quick to apologize and willingly helps Gus out. In the process, the two of them create a believable and cute friendship...a friendship that is absolutely going to be interpreted as something else by the fandom...which is something that I'm more than supportive of--HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! I WENT FROM ONE OF THE BIGGEST GUSTOLOMULE DENIERS TO ONE OF ITS SUPPORTERS IN LESS THAN A DAY! HOW DO THESE WRITERS MANAGE TO TAKE ELEMENTS THAT WERE ONCE ON MY S**T LIST TO THEN MAKING ME MORE THAN OK WITH THEM!

IT'S INSANE!

Mostly impressive.

BUT ALSO INSANE!

Edric and Emira: More so than ever, I am so happy that the writers took their course correction with Edric and Emira. These two work so much better as supporting characters rather than minor antagonists like several fans thought they would be after their treatment of Amity in "Lost in Language." They're quick to pick up on Luz and Amity's mutual affections for one another and do their part to help their friend and baby sister out. It's wholesome to watch, and, you know what, I'm gonna go ahead and say it: Edric and Emira Blight are much better mischievous twin characters than Fred and George Weasley. As much as I adore Fred and George, there is an issue how they're always referred to as Fred and George, not Fred or George. It's because their personalities are as identical as they are, so separating them is pointless. With Edric and Emira, they have enough individuality that you could enjoy them separately as much as you could seeing them together. Emira is more emotionally supportive in how she listens to Amity vent her frustrations about her feelings, while Edric is more of a doofus who can't take a hint to save his life. It creates a great set of characters who can potentially work well on their own. I hope they get explored more at some point, but for now, I'm happy with the cute moments these two offered already.

Lumity Moments: BUUUUUUUUUUUUT, nothing compares to the cuteness of these two.

I don't care if I'll be called a racist for it because these! Moments! These moments are the highlights of "Through the Looking Glass Ruins" for me! Seeing these two interact in this episode, now that the pining is mutual, was everything I could have ever hoped for, and so much more. Seriously, how can you complain about anything about all of this when you get cute bits like:

Luz getting flustered of seeing Amity with her hair down

Amity risking her job to help Luz

Amity being motivated to find the diary due to the possibility of a date with Luz in the human realm

Luz going through hell and back to get Amity her job back

All of the blushing

And that F**KING KISS AT THE END HOLY SH--Don't you dare think I'm not going to further discuss that. DON'T YOU DARE!

Gus' story was entertaining with how it surprised me in all the right ways, don't get me wrong. But seeing Luz and Amity's relationship develop more and more always fills my heart with glee that, believe it or not, I'm always going to remember it more. I love you, Gus, but I love Lumity more.

Philip Whittabeen: So we finally have a name to the alleged human who was here years ago, and we get properly introduced to him through a really visually appealing animation change. I'm personally curious to see where the writers go with him, but it's too early to say if his inclusion will be worth something. But I will say one thing, though. One thing, and then I'm going to move on.

Here it is:

Philip sounds eerily similar to Emperor Belos to me.

That is all I'm going to say about that.

Luz’s Sentences in Spanish: I want to give a personal shout-out to mi buen amigo @l-egionaire for pointing this out because there are some things to analyze in what Luz says in Spanish in this episode. Knowing what she means, it's clear that they are ideals that Camila instilled into Luz. Ideals that possibly show a lot about Camila's personality on top of revealing where Luz got her hopeful optimism and sense of determination. It's the second sentence that Luz says later on that I really want to delve deep into:

"Nada funcionará a menos que lo haga funcionar."

Translated, that means "Nothing will work unless you make it work." Again, this proves the dedication that Luz has filled into her soul, but to me, it says a lot about Luz's dedication to Amity. She wants to make this relationship work but fully understands that it won't unless she puts in the effort. It's a sweet sentiment that says so much about how Luz feels about Amity that some fans might not be able to pick up on if they don't speak Spanish. Or, in my case, have a good friend who finds the translation for you (thanks again @l-egionaire).

The Galderstones: Pretty interesting concept, I'm not going to lie. It's also interesting that of all the types of witches in the Boiling Isles, it was illusionists who were the ones that guard over the Galderstones. Because illusion magic can't really harm anyone, it makes a weird type of sense that they would be the ones to keep the Galderstones out of the wrong hands. And, even better, it showcases Gus' strength as an illusionist when he was able to take down Bria, who was hopped up on Galderstone power, through that same "harmless" magic. It just goes to show that if you have a big enough brain, you don't need to overpower somebody. You need to outthink them.

Malphus Being a Surprisingly Cool Dude: What can I say? I'm a sucker for expectation subversion.

Luz and Amity Crying: First of all, a HUGE round of applause to VAs Sarah-Nicole Robles and Mae Whitman through their vocal performances in this scene! They really sold how upset and broken apart Luz and Amity were due to their feelings for each other messing things up. More so with Sarah-Nicole.

Second, this might be the closest these two have gotten to a confession so far ("so far" being the keyword). I specifically latch onto Amity's expression after hearing Luz agree that she's always weird around Amity. In one way, it looks like Amity is surprised to see she made Luz cry, but in another, it could be that she realizes that perhaps that Luz has feelings for her as well. Or, at least, that's how I interpreted things. The thing about art is that there's no one interpretation to agree on. And that's what this scene is: Art. It's performed, written, and animated well, that no matter how you look at it, it's a masterpiece.

“I’ll call the hounds”: One line. One line was all it took for me to love the Keeper of the Looking Glass Graveyard.

Amity Dyes her Hair: I always assumed that Amity would let her original hair color grow out as defiance to Odalia. But dying it lavender? Thus crafting her own identity without having her be compared to either Odalia or Alador?

...yeah, that's brilliant. Whoever thought of that, you are a genius and deserve all of the credit that comes from it.

ALL of the credit.

Amity Kisses Luz on the Cheek!: I'll save my "Wha-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo" for an actual kiss, but for now, THIS IS AWESOME!

This moment, much like other Lumity moments, was everything I could have ever expected and so much more:

Amity's instant panic after realizing she seriously just did that

Ed and Em looking fondly at their sister taking such a big step

The look on Luz's face, which may or may not hint that she realizes that the feelings are more than mutual

And the fact that Luz's legs give out soon after Amity leaves

It was adorable as all forms of hell, and it was a perfect way to end such a perfect episode...or, at least, an almost perfect episode. I do have some issues.

WHAT I DISLIKED

Mattholomule Helping Gus too Easily: The Glandus kids were right there, in-ear and eye-shot, yet did nothing as Mattholomule effortlessly helped Gus and the Keeper escape...how?

Gavin falling for Gus’ Illusion: I want to laugh at how stupidly easy that was...but it's too stupidly easy for me to forgive.

And that’s about it. Just two nitpicks that don’t really take away that much enjoyment from the episode

IN CONCLUSION

"Through the Looking Glass Ruins" keeps Season Two's winning streak going by being another solid A. It fleshes out characters, develops cute relationships, and keeps the story going despite being so character-driven. It's easily more than worth the time...but it's not worth any discourse that comes from some fans preferring one plot over the other.

I highly doubt that some people are racist for loving the Lumity plotline or homophobic for loving Gus'. Maybe some people are, but also consider that maybe, just maybe, a person loves a ship because it's their favorite, or a person likes a character cause he's their favorite.

Which.

Is.

Fine.

There's no definitive way to like a series, and demanding that people like it for the same reasons you do is not worth anything. Because, believe it or not, even Dana Terrace doesn't care how people love her show. In the AMA she did, when a fan asked if she's upset about fans obsessing over Amity's crush on Luz, this is her word for word reaction:

"Not at all! No, the main focus of the series will never be on any romantic thread but that doesn't mean those threads aren't important. And I'm thrilled that people connect to our characters!"

THERE YOU HAVE IT! The creator herself fully admits that she doesn't care what fans latch onto. She's just glad to have people who like the show in the first place! So don't create discourse just because some people enjoy a part of an episode more than others. The second you get that through your heads, the sooner we can all move on with our lives.

(Also, that's five episodes in a row that are hits. And, man, is that stinker going to hit harder because of it.)

[tumbleweed-palmer]

Wait there was more to that ask

Jimmy, me, awkward supply closet quickie

The Best Kind of Stress Relief

=============

She missed her boyfriend. Y/N knew this would be a totally ridiculous statement if she were to ever say the words out loud. How could she possibly miss him when they literally worked in the same building?

If she wanted to see her boyfriend so badly all she had to do was hop in the elevator, hit the down button, get off in the basement, and make her way on over to Autopsy. She’d find her boyfriend right there assisting Dr. Mallard as usual.

Even if she didn’t have the opportunity to see him during the work day she knew for a fact that they would go home together at the end of the day. Even if one of them worked late they’d still wind up in bed together at some point. They’d wake up together and go into work together unless Jimmy was called away early for a body pickup. They would be together in some form or fashion.

How could she possibly miss someone who she lived and worked with?

It was just this case...this case was eating up so much time. They both had work piled up to their eyeballs and they were so exhausted all the time. These past few weeks they had rarely even been able to share a dinner together that didn’t consist of terrible fast food they ate in the car on the way home. They barely had the energy to share a completely G-rated shower together at night before they collapsed in bed and got whatever few hours of sleep the good lord blessed them with before their alarms woke them up and they were pulled right back into work.

They hadn’t even had time to even have one of their usual lunch breaks together. Jimmy hadn’t been able to sneak away from Autopsy and come upstairs to linger around her desk. He would always sit at the edge of her desk and try his best to ignore Tony’s prodding of “Who let the Autopsy Gremlin out of the basement? Mini-Probie, you know he can’t leave the basement.” She hadn’t been able to make excuses to go down to Autopsy and linger herself trying to pretend that she wasn’t there to see her boyfriend but was there because she was totally interested in Dr. Mallard’s work. Dr. Mallard of course knew she was more interested in making moon-eyes with his assistant, but he’d at least been willing to play along with the story Y/N gave him. Lord knows he’d spent too much time gently encouraging Jimmy to pursue Y/N to get too grouchy that they were finally an item.

Jimmy’s and her lives were so intertwined together that the interruption in their usual routine felt so draining.

Y/N knew what she missed the most about her boyfriend at the moment. She missed the sex. They were so exhausted lately that they had no energy to do anything even remotely sexual.

They’d always shared an active sexlife. They were both overly affectionate people. They saw sex as a wonderful way to bond with one another. Not only did it feel amazing and it was a hell of a lot of fun, it was also something incredibly intimate. They saw it as a chance to be as close as two human beings could possibly be. They both understood that sex was an extraordinarly intimate action after all it involved being in such a vulnerable position with one another.

Their sexlife was amazing. It was passionate and filled with laughter and such intimacy.

He was the first guy she’d ever slept with where sex didn’t feel like such a chore. With Jimmy sex felt so fun and so loving. She felt so close to him when they made love. She didn’t feel exposed or as though she had to perform to stroke his ego. Sex felt the way it should with Jimmy. It felt like a wonderful way to show one another that they loved the other.

Jimmy Palmer was the most incredible man Y/N had ever dated. To say that she was absolutely devoted to him would be a vast understatement.

She could still remember how they’d even gotten together in the first place. Jimmy had been there for her when she’d felt so low. He’d somehow made everything seem okay.

She’d been recruited as the new probationary agent that would be working with Gibbs’ team.

She was terrified. She’d heard horror stories about Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The other probationary agents whispered about how tough he was. She’d only witnessed him from afar. He seemed so intense. She’d heard stories about how Gibbs hit his agents on the back of the head as a wake up call. She’d heard about how he had a million rules for his agents to follow, but he never told you the rules. He just expected you to learn them on your own and never forget them. She’d heard how he barked orders and expected results. He didn’t accept excuses or apologies. He would do anything to solve a case and he expected his team to follow suit. He was a tough cookie. He was a marine through and through.

Y/N was crapping herself at the thought of working under him.Part of her was excited. She’d hoped that this would be her chance to prove herself. Surely if she worked hard then everyone would see that she could make an amazing NCIS field agent. Surely this was her chance. Still though it had been so terrifying. She’d been overwhelmed with the feeling that she was in over her head.

She had tried her best to keep a tough exterior and to take whatever challenges Gibbs had thrown her way. On the outside it had looked as though she was excelling at every challenge thrown her direction. She kept determined. She held her head up high and tried to show how motivated she was to learn. She tried to give them the impression that she was strong. She tried to remind herself that she had worked too damn hard to get here. She worked way too hard to let Gibbs or anyone intimidate her from becoming a field agent. She tried to look to Ziva for inspiration. Ziva was so strong. She was such a strong agent who didn’t put up with anyone's crap. Y/N wished she could be more like Ziva.

On the inside though she felt like she was drowning. She felt so in over her head. It felt as though she was failing. She had to fear that she wasn’t strong enough for this. She wasn’t capable of this, a voice in the back of her brain insisted. She was so inferior and eventually everyone would see it.

She tried not to get too discouraged but it weighed on her so heavily.

Tony hadn’t made it easy. He had bestowed her with the nickname Mini-Probie. No matter how many times she asked him to call her by her name he still insisted she was “Mini-Probie.” or worse “Probie Jr.”

Later on of course she’d realize that Tony only bestowed the nicknames on her as a sign of affection. Tony tormented those he cared for.

At the time though it had felt so demoralizing.

Tony had thrown the worst jobs at her: Crawling through mud and dumpsters searching for evidence. Going into lakes and down hills. Going into the thickest woods to retrieve evidence. Carrying all the equipment. Gathering evidence off the floor on her hands and knees. Dusting massive surfaces for fingerprints all by herself. If there was a pet at a crime scene Y/N was handed a pet carrier and told to retrieve it. If there was a piece of evidence in some other god awful location Y/N was told to grab it and bag it.

He shoved the jobs no one wanted on her. It was the only way she’d learn he’d insisted. He was making her a better agent. He was a senior agent and he knew what she needed to do in order to learn.

McGee had tried to offer her reassurance though it was clear he was thankful that she was now the one stuck with the jobs he’d always been forced to take. Sure Tony might still call McGee “Probie.” but Y/N was clearly another victim and Tony seemed to take just as much pleasure at tormenting Y/N as he took in tormenting McGee. Misery did love company.

Y/N was close to cracking under the pressure.

She’d been once again tasked with yet another gross job that nobody else wanted. She’d found herself in a dumpster behind a seafood market searching for a gun that had possibly been tossed. She’d been left alone with the task combing through slimy fish parts trying not to puke. She smelled like rotten fish and all she wanted to do was crawl home and hide in her bed after she scrubbed her skin clean of the rotten stench.

Dr. Mallard had been so kind to her, offering her a chance to use the hazmat showers insisting that he was a true gentleman and wouldn’t stand for a lady being forced to drive home covered in fish guts.

She’d tried her best not to cry when he’d given her a gentle pat on the arm not cringing at the sticky remnants of fish parts crusted to her shoulder. “You’re doing well my dear. You took great initiative to retrieve that gun. That gun is a crucial piece of evidence. I’m sure Jethro will appreciate your determination. Take as long as you need to shower in the hazmat shower. There’s soap to use, it isn’t the nicest, but it will do in a pinch. There are a spare pair of scrubs in stock in Autopsy. I’m sure you can wear them home, though they might be a little large.”

She’d managed to work out a “Thank you Dr. Mallard.” trying to resist the urge to hug him. He had been so kind to her from the start. He made her think of her grandfather to be honest. Her grandfather was a lot like him; filled with stories. Her grandfather had quite the analytical mind as well. He’d actually had hope that she might go into the sciences like him, but Y/N had her heart set on this. Perhaps she would have been better off if she’d followed her grandfather’s dreams for her?

She’d showered so long scrubbing her skin so much it’d turned red and getting the water as hot as he could possibly stand. She didn’t care that the bar soap had made her skin a little dry.. Ziva had been kind enough to offer her some shampoo and conditioner gently giving her a tip to always keep some travel size soaps and shampoos in her desk. You never knew when you might need it Ziva had insisted. Y/N had scrubbed herself until she no longer smelled like rotten fish.

She’d found the blue scrubs without any problems relieved that they weren’t too large for her smaller frame.

When it was all said and done Y/N felt clean but still so defeated.

She took a deep breath trying to soothe herself and regather her confidence. She just had to get a hold of herself and remind herself of why she was here. She wanted to become a field agent; not a probationary agent. She wanted to become a real field agent. She worked so hard to get hired. She had to keep her chin up and keep going. Someday all of these terrible experiences would be worth it.

She’d found herself sitting in Autopsy at Dr. Mallard’s desk taking deep breaths trying not to cry. She refused to cry. She was a grown woman. She wasn’t going to cry.

She wasn’t sure why she remained sitting in Autopsy. There was something about the silence of the room. It was so quiet. It was the one place where she knew she might have a chance at being alone to gather her thoughts.

She’d barely noticed Jimmy Palmer enter the room, the man looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

He felt his heart sink as he noticed how absolutely heartbroken she looked. Her face was downturned she looked up at him revealing that she was clearly trying not to cry. It broke his heart.

She was far too lovely to look so broken. She was so wonderful inside and out. She didn’t deserve to look so upset.

He’d definitely noticed the new probationary agent. She was an attractive young woman so of course he’d noticed her. To be honest he’d noticed how rough Tony seemed to be treating her. Jimmy could admit he’d had to bite his tongue on occasion when he witnessed Tony take it just a little too far.

He felt like a coward for not saying something. Y/N seemed to be the type of woman who’d probably see any attempt Jimmy made to say something to Tony as Jimmy suggesting that Y/N wasn’t capable of handling her job. She’d see it as a patronizing action and not an act of kindness or care.

Jimmy could admit he’d found several things to adore about Y/N/ He enjoyed her presence at crime scenes and around NCIS. Anytime she was the one who got to come down to Autopsy he felt his heart lift at the sight of her and he’d maybe tried to make more jokes then, hoping to work a smile out of her.

He adored her entire attitude on the job. She seemed so determined. He guessed he related to her in that sense, he was a student too after all. He studied under Dr. Mallard in hopes of becoming a full blown medical examiner instead of just an assistant and Y/N studied under the NCIS team hoping to become a field agent and not just a probationary agent. He respected her determination to go after what she wanted.

He liked how eager she seemed to please everyone. She was clearly a hard worker. He’d always found those values admirable and relatable.

It wasn’t just her sense of motivation that Jimmy liked though. He liked everything about her. She was as pretty as she was sweet. He liked the hint of perfume she wore. It was a soft floral scent he occasionally caught when she was near. It smelled like lilies. He liked her smile the few times he’d spotted it. He liked her laugh the few times he’d been lucky enough to hear it. He liked how soft spoken she seemed. He could admit he worried about how soft spoken she seemed. He knew the life of a field agent was difficult and dangerous. He had to hope someone who seemed to be as sweet and as gentle as her wouldn’t be harmed on the job.

He would be lying if he tried to claim that he maybe hadn’t developed a massive crush on Y/N. There was no chance of him not liking her as much as he did.

He knew it was useless though. She was a perfect ten and Jimmy was sure he was probably not anywhere close to being a perfect ten. He knew what people saw when they looked at him. People found him strange especially when they found out just what his career goals were. They saw him as being a geek who slouched too much and always said the wrong thing at the wrong time. They found him awkward and they found his sense of humor to be off putting. Sure he’d started hitting the gym and trying to have a bit more pride in his appearance, but he was very sure that women who looked like Y/N didn’t go for guys who looked like Jimmy.

Y/N spoke her voice cracking, praying Jimmy couldn’t see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “I should go, I-I...Dr. Mallard told me I could borrow some scrubs because my clothing was all fish gutty. It’s late so I should go. Tell Dr. Mallard I said thanks again, since you’ll probably see him before me. Have a good weekend Jimmy.”

Jimmy felt the words leave him unable to stand it any longer. He’d kept his lips sealed long enough. “Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath trying to hold it together. “I’m fine Jimmy. It’s just been a long day.”

Jimmy replied not willing to let it go. “You don’t seem fine.”

Y/N felt the tears fall then she unable to stop herself. Jimmy had always been so sweet to her. He was so polite and he tried to keep so positive. He was the one bright spot she knew she could count on at a crime scene. No matter how awful a crime scene was she knew that at least Jimmy would be there. He was always so cheerful. She didn’t understand how someone worked with the dead and saw just how much violence people were capable of could be so positive.

She spoke frantically wiping her eyes trying to pretend that she didn’t feel as awful as she so clearly felt. “It’s so stupid. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not stupid. I’m sure it isn’t stupid if it’s making you this sad. Of course I’m going to worry...I mean I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I’d like to think that I’m still allowed to worry when I see you looking so down.” Jimmy insisted taking her by surprise as he made his way over to her.

He pulled out a chair at the desk motioning for her to sit, taking a seat in the other desk chair.

Y/N gave in telling herself it would make her feel better. It would make her feel better to have a friendly ear to vent to. She forced the words to fall from her as Jimmy frantically searched for a tissue, finally finding one and handing it over to her. “I just, I feel so overwhelmed.”

“You’re doing great though Y/N. I’ve seen you at crime scenes. You’ve been working really hard.” Jimmy replied so fast to reassure her.

“I’ve been faking it. I’ve been trying so hard but I’m so tired. I’ve worked so hard to get here. I’ve studied so hard and worked so hard. It’s all I’ve wanted for so long. I just, I’m in over my head.” She admitted the words spilling from her, feeling so good to get it all out.

She let out a heavy sigh shaking her head wiping her tears as she spoke. “Maybe I’m not made for this...Maybe I’m just not good enough.”

She was surprised by how fast Jimmy spoke in response. “That isn’t true. I know it’s been hard, but you said it yourself. You’ve wanted this for so long. You’ve worked really hard for this. You cannot stop now, not when you’ve worked so hard to get here. I know things may seem really rough right now, but I’m sure that things will get better. You’re doing really great. I mean Gibbs barely yells at you...and I don’t think he’s ever hit the back of your head, or I haven’t seen him do it.”

Y/N managed to laugh at this though it came out a little weepy. “He hasn’t...he has yelled, but he yells more at Tony than anyone.”

She let out a soft sigh, her tears managing to dry up a little she wringing the tissue she was holding in her hands. “Thanks Jimmy...today has just been the worst. I literally spent all afternoon in a dumpster searching for a gun. It was at a seafood market and Tony decided that I was the lucky one who got to dig through it. It was disgusting. I don’t think I ever want to eat seafood ever again... How long do you think he’s going to stick me with Probie duties?.”

“Probably until a new Probie comes along.” Jimmy replied, giving her an apologetic smile.

Much to his relief the comment didn’t make her feel worse, letting out a laugh that sounded a little less weepy. “On the bright side at least Dr. Mallard let me borrow the hazmat shower, which explains the scrubs.”

Jimmy felt the words leave him before he had a chance to stop himself. “If its any consolation, you look good in the scrubs.”

He paused his cheeks flushing more words spilling from him he stumbling a bit over his statement. “I mean, not that you don’t always look good...because you always look really good, I mean you always look really beautiful. You are beautiful... It’s just, uh you look nice in blue and uh...you l-look...you look good for someone who spent the afternoon in a dumpster filled with rotten fish parts.”

A little voice in the back of his brain told him he’d fucked everything up. She probably thought he was a total moron.

He widened his eyes surprised as she spoke her voice just as filled with shock. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Jimmy felt the words leave him he unable to deny it. He took a deep breath taking a chance. “Yes, always.”

It was her turn to feel her cheeks flush the words leaving her so soft he almost didn’t hear them “Thank you.”

He took another deep breath taking another chance. It was now or never. The worst thing she could do was tell him no. “Would you...uh, do you have any plans tonight?”

Y/N spoke a small shy smile crossing her lips. “No, I mean...I don’t have any plans unless Gibbs calls me in to work.”

Jimmy nodded his head working up the courage to ask. “Would you like to get dinner with me tonight? As in a date? I promise no seafood.”

The laugh that left her scared him for a moment. Was she laughing at him? Did she think the idea of him asking her out was so ridiculous that it had reduced her to laughter.

His doubts died as she spoke nodding her head the words leaving her. “I’d like that...would you be okay with me stopping by my place so I can change...I imagine you aren’t planning on going to dinner in your scrubs so I should probably ditch these.”

Jimmy was tempted to tell her he’d eat dinner with her no matter what she wore but he only managed to nod his head frantically the words spilling from him. “Of course, that’d be okay...I can just, uh I can follow you to your place and then we can leave for dinner in my car...if that’s okay with you?”

“Yes, that sounds great.” She insisted, standing up from her chair.

She hesitated for a moment, taking a chance as she leaned down, taking Jimmy by shock as her lips pressed to his cheek. She spoke her own cheeks flushing just as dark as his. “Just let me go get my purse and I’ll be ready to go.”

That dinner date had been the start of something wonderful. It hadn’t taken them long to become official. It had only taken a couple of dates before Jimmy had worked up the nerve to ask her to be his girlfriend.

They hadn’t looked back after that.

Things at work were still hard at times. Y/N still felt defeated at times. She still felt overwhelmed more often than she’d like to admit. Jimmy made it easier though. He made things seem so much brighter.

They’d been together for a little over two years now and they’d learned to lean on one another through the changes they’d endured at work and the stress and danger of their careers.

She was sure that she loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone. That was why this was driving her insane.

To be frank she was horny and stressed and exhausted. It was a deadly combination. She missed her boyfriend. She needed him so badly she wanted to cry.

As hard as she tried to focus on the case and her job any time she had a moment of silence her mind drifted back to the last time Jimmy and she’d had sex. It had been after a night out at a local bar with everyone at work. They hadn’t stayed long, they both making an excuse to leave early. The second they’d gotten home they’d barely made it to the bedroom. She kept thinking about all the filthy things Jimmy had moaned against her ear while he was grinding against her. He talked so much as it was and that trait didn’t go away when he was inside of her. He surprisingly had a filthy mouth when he got lost in pleasure. It was kind of amusing sweet gentle Jimmy who wouldn’t even watch an R rated film would moan in her ear about tight she was and how hard he wanted to fuck her.

Remembering all these little details wasn’t helping her ignore the desire coursing through her.

She finally decided she’d had enough. She knew it was a risky move but she needed to do this. It was either do this or attempt to take a cold shower in the hazmat showers.

It had been surprisingly easy. She knew her boyfriend’s routine after all. Even in a time like this when things were so hectic she knew that everyday around 3 Jimmy would go grab a cup of coffee and a snack. He cut his lunch break a little short just so he could have the time to step away to do this.

Jimmy hadn’t expected the arms to reach out from the supply closet yanking him by his scrub top into the closet.

He widened his eyes his heart still racing even as he realized exactly what was going on. Her lips pressed to his he eagerly returning the kiss but only for a brief moment he pulling from her the words spilling from him. “What’s going on?”

She pressed her lips down his jawline the words leaving her. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He chuckled at the action and her words. “You just saw me this morning.”

She continued to press kissed along his jawline working her way down his neck nipping his skin pulling a soft moan from his lips.

She spoke her words muffled against his neck. “I know, I just love you so much. I’ve missed you so much baby.”

She continued to suck and nip at his neck knowing she would definitely leave a mark behind in her wake. Jimmy couldn’t stop the soft moans from leaving him finding it so easy to sink into her affections his body easily reacting remembering just how badly he’d missed this.

She ran her hand down his body between them knowing her destination as she continued to work her lips against his pulse point.

He felt a surprised squeak leave him as she placed her hand over his crotch gently massaging him causing his cock to slowly begin to harden his body definitely remembering just how badly he’d missed her.

He pulled from her speaking frantically. “What, what are y-you doing?”

She gave him a flirty smile staring up at him clearly able to see how dark his eyes had gone with lust. “What do you think I’m doing? You’re a smart guy, I think you know.”

He felt his cheeks flush realizing her hand hadn’t left his crotch. He managed to speak his voice still a little frantic. “I uh-he-here? I mean r-right now? Here?”

“Yes, here.” She replied her lips pressing to his jawline again.

He sighed closing his eyes fighting the urge to sink into this his fears still running through the back of his mind. “What if s-someone walks in or hears us?”

She giggled fast to reply her lips still pressing along his jawline. “No one will walk in and no one will hear us as long as you’re quiet.”

She pulled back her voice taking a serious tone realizing he seemed pretty tense. “If you aren’t okay with it then It’s fine Jimmy. You can say no and I won’t be upset.”

Jimmy quickly debated his choices in his head. He could promise her that they would pick this back up at home. He could wait it out until his body no longer showed how excited he was. Then he could walk back to Autopsy and pretend nothing had happened.

Or he could give in to what his body was screaming it wanted. She’d told him she missed him, and he’d missed her. He’d missed her so much it was driving him insane.

Of course he might die from embarrassment if anyone walked in on this or even overheard them.

He loved her so much though. He wanted her so much. He wanted this so much.

He took a deep breath, his lips pressing to hers before he pulled back speaking. “We have to be quick and you have to be quiet.”

“I’m not the one we have to worry about. You’re the loud one.” She remarked her lips finding his.

He pushed her against the wall, his hand so easily roaming her body as he spoke. “That’s funny coming from someone who moaned my name so loud one time that the neighbors complained the next day.”

“That’s because the walls in your old apartment were paper thin.” She insisted a soft moan leaving her as he began to work the buttons of her shirt open sliding it from her body.

He groaned as he pulled the shirt from her his eyes locking down at the pink lace covering her breasts. “Fair enough.”

She giggled knowing him well enough to know that she always had a chance of winning any disagreement when he spotted her breasts.

He wasted no time to work his lips along her neck nipping and sucking as he worked his way down her shoulder pulling more giggles and soft moans from her. He pressed his lips against her cleavage nipping and sucking, unable to stop himself from grinding against her.

He ran his hands up her back easily finding her bra clasp and working it open pulling it from her body. He moaned as her breasts were revealed to him, wasting no time to lock his mouth over her breast suckling.

She whined her fingers running through his hair messing it as he worked her breast easily working it before moving to her other breast giving it the same treatment.

He only pulled back as she pulled his scrub top up pulling it and the white undershirt he wore up and over his head tossing it on the floor. He moaned as she pressed her lips to his chest, nipping sure she would leave a mark there too.

He whined as she worked her way down his body, dropping to her knees. He groaned as she stared up at him, unable to stop his hand from pressing to her cheek as she leaned against his touch. She spoke, her voice teasing. “I thought you said we had to make this quick.”

He nodded his head, the words spilling from him. “I know. I just love you so much.”

She spoke, her fingers sliding under the waistband of his scrub bottom and boxers. “And I love you.”

He groaned as she pulled his pants and boxers down, allowing them to rest around his ankles, the sight probably looking ridiculous but he was a little too distracted by the moan that left her lips to worry about that.

She spoke, her lips pressing along his shaft, her breath warm against him. “Is this for me?”

“Always, always for you.” He moaned his head falling back as he continued to press kisses along his shaft her hand resting against his balls massaging them

He groaned as he locked her lips around him, bobbing her head enthusiastically. He groaned his eyes practically crossing his knees already growing wobbly. God, he’d missed this. He’d missed this so much more than he realized.

She worked his cock he putting his hand over his mouth trying to stifle his moans. She pulled back a giggle leaving her, her hand wrapping around him and stroking. “Yeah, you’re real quiet.”

He giggled against his palm, his hips rocking against her touch.

She placed her lips back around him pulling her hand back to bob her head once again more moans leaving him muffling against his palm.

He stared down at her, his hips continuing to rock, unable to believe how perfect she really was. She was so amazing. She was all his. Somehow he’d managed to win her heart. He was the only one who got to do this with her. If he had his way she would be the only one he did this with for the rest of his life.

He groaned, finding it so hard to muffle his noises. She was right, he was the loud one.

He grunted knowing that if she kept this up at this rate he was going to cum. It was almost pathetic really. In his defense it had been so long since they’d had a chance to do this and he’d been so stressed lately. He was sure any kind of stimulation from her no matter how brief it was might cause him to burst.

He pulled back from her his cock bobbing a groan leaving him as he pulled his hand from his mouth. “I need you, I need you so fucking bad.”

She stood up from the floor kicking her shoes off and unfastening her pants sliding them down her body along with her panties.

He groaned searching the room trying to decide how he wanted to go about this.

He sighed knowing his knees still felt pretty wobbly. He was so desperate he didn’t trust himself to stay upright at the moment. Besides, he didn’t think pushing her against the wall so close to a shelf was a good plan. He could already imagine the risk of pulling down a shelf.

He quickly made his choice telling himself that even if the floor might not be the cleanest it was the best option.

He sat down resting against the wall motioning to her. “Here, ride me.”

She giggled making her way over to him a deep groan leaving him as he watched her. There was something so intoxicating about the sight of her standing over him like this nude and wanting him.

He groaned knowing he might have a bit of a submissive side to him. Though he guessed that was pretty obvious given his overeagerness to please her. He’d do anything for her, he’d give her anything. All she had to do was say the word and he’d give her anything. He was always so desperate for her, so desperate to make her feel good. He was always so desperate to make her happy. He was always in such awe that she wanted him. She could have anyone and she’d chosen him.

He ran his hands along her thighs as she approached him, a groan leaving him his eyes locking down at her center. “If I had more time I’d eat you out right now, fuck. This case better be over soon or I’m gonna find whoever killed that petty officer and kill him myself.”

She giggled at this comment, shaking her head. He was the only guy she’d ever dated who seemed to love going down on her. She’d definitely noticed just how much he enjoyed pleasing her. Of course she was always willing to make sure she pleased him in return. She had to find it downright awe inspiring just how much he adored pleasing her though.

She lowered down straddling his lap not allowing him to enter her just yet his lips pressing to hers. She reluctantly pulled her lips from his reaching forward and pulling his glasses from him.

She spoke, giving him a gentle smile as she set his glasses down on top of her pile of clothing. “I don’t want anything to happen to them.”

He gave her a lovesick smile not helping but to adore how she always looked out for him even in the tiniest ways. He groaned as she pressed her lips back to his.

He reached down between them grasping his cock sliding it along her she so wet he wanted to cry. He had a feeling he might not last as long as he was hoping. He knew it was going to take some serious effort on his half to hold back.

He grunted his moan muffled against her lips as she lowered herself over him, taking him slowly down to the hilt. He groaned she so tight and wet and so hot. He grasped onto her hips squeezing so tight he had a feeling he’d leave bruises behind.

She gasped, the feeling of him inside of her always a little overwhelming. He filled her so perfectly and in this position he hit at such a different angle. She had to adore how close she felt to him at this angle. This was exactly what she needed to feel so close to him.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, taking her time slowly rocking over him moans intermingling between their kisses.

He kept a tight grip on her hips encouraging her movements. She felt so good. He couldn’t stop himself from voicing it he speaking against her lips. “Fuck, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed your pussy so much.”

She giggled shuddering against him, unable to deny how much she loved a little dirty talk. There was something so flattering about knowing that sweet polite Jimmy Palmer could say such filthy things. She knew she was the only one who got to see this side of him. It was a side of him that was reserved for her and her only.

She spoke trying to keep her voice down, finding it so hard not to moan as loud as she wanted to when he felt so amazing. “Feels so good Jimmy. Missed you, missed this so bad. You always feel so good.”

He groaned, pressing his lips to hers doing his best to rock up against her as she continued to ride him. This position was hell given the fact that the floor was freezing and hard, but he found it hard to complain too much when she felt so amazing.

He pressed his lips to her neck, his voice muffled against her neck. “I love you, I love you so much sweet girl. My sweet girl, so good for me.”

She whined burying her face against his neck she riding him enthusiastically, his hands still squeezing her hips so tight. She managed to speak the words muffled against his skin. “I love you Jimmy. God, I love you so much.”

They continued like this, their moans muffled against one another’s skin, she rocking against him finding the perfect rhythm, Jimmy doing his best to encourage her movements.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. If anyone had told her way back when she’d been hired on as a probationary agent that she’d one day find herself riding the medical examiner’s assistant in a supply closet she would have never believed it.

Then again she also never would have believed that when she’d walked into Autopsy the first time that she’d be meeting the love of her life. She had to wonder that if she knew back then what she knew now if it would have made those first few months at NCIS any easier.

She whined against him, feeling so amazing. She spoke against his neck “Such a good boy Jimmy. So fucking good.”

He grunted shuddering against her, her words making him throb. Oh yeah he definitely had a kink for pleasing her.

This entire experience was actually more than a bit of a kink for him. He couldn’t help but to get off on the idea that anyone could walk in on this. Anyone could hear this. Anyone could hear just how much he was pleasing her. The thought filled him with such a sense of pride.

Of course realistically he knew he’d die of shame if anyone ever walked in on this or heard it, but for some reason the risk of being caught or overheard turned him on so much.

She slid a hand down between them, her fingers sliding along her clit rubbing it helping herself feel all the more amazing.

Jimmy groaned gazing down between them, his voice sounding out in a hushed whisper. “That’s my girl, fuck yes.”

She whined her head falling back, she biting her bottom lip to hush her moans. He stared up at her still so in awe of her. He had to wonder how he’d gotten so lucky.

He pressed his lips against her breasts suckling them as she rode him, her fingers continuing to rub her clit in a circular pattern.

They continued like this, both knowing this would be over quicker than they’d hoped. This had been just what they needed though. This was always their preferred method to cope with stress. Anytime things at work got to be too much they knew they could find pleasure in one another. Of course usually they were able to wait until they got home, or at least got to the backseat of his car in the parking garage.

They were amazed at their ability to find comfort in one another. They both knew that no matter what happened they had one another. When a case went well they could celebrate the success with one another. When a case went wrong they knew they could find comfort in one another.

When one of them had a terrible day they both knew that they could lie in one another's arms pressed skin to skin together. They didn’t even have to do anything more than hold one another and it would be enough.

She was sure she’d never found more comfort with anyone than she’d found with Jimmy. He was quite sure he felt the same.

There was a reason he’d begun looking at engagement rings secretly on an incognito tab on his laptop anytime he had a chance to do so without anyone seeing it and figuring out the plans dancing around in the back of his mind.

He knew that one day hopefully soon if he was lucky enough he would make her his wife. He would have the rest of his life with her. Growing old with her sounded perfect.

She spoke, her voice rising a little bit more than she meant the words falling from her. “Jimmy fuck, you’re so good baby. I’m so close.”

He pulled from her breasts placing a hand at the back of her head pulling her down muffling her moans with his lips. He spoke giggling against her lips. “Sssh not too loud baby.”

He pressed his lips back to hers as she continued to rub her clit, she continuing to rock over him losing rhythm the longer she moved. He gripped down onto her hips helping encourage her movements as she got closer and closer to the edge.

She whined her back arching, shaking against him as she reached her end. She moaned against his kisses muffling the noise. She quivered against him her nails digging into his back as she came her center contracting around him.

He grunted the sensation of her squeezing him so tight making his cock ache.

He allowed her to rock against him she shaking as she worked her way though her orgasm.

She gasped as she came down from her high she so sensitive.

She resisted the urge to pull back from him the feeling so intense. She wanted him to cum. She needed him to feel so good.

She pulled from his lips moaning against his ear her voice so soft and so needy saying just the thing to get him there. “Please Jimmy. Come on baby. Cum for me my good sweet man, let go for me.”

He grunted his fingertips digging into her skin knowing he would have to rub lotion against her hips tonight. Her skin would be sporting so many bruises after this.

He felt his end hit him hard he shaking his face burying against her neck muffling his moans of her name. He came hard spilling into her, she rocking against him working her pelvic floor muscles trying to milk his release. He whined as he felt the last of his release spill from him he knowing they were making a mess. He would have to find some tissues or something to clean them.

She remained ontop of him even as he began to soften his grip on her so tight he refusing to allow her to pull from him.

He spoke his voice low and raspy a drowsy laugh leaving him. “I’m going to find whoever inserted your IUD and thank them.”

She giggled her nose scrunching at the comment his cheeks flushing from more than the orgasm he was recovering from. He spoke another laugh leaving him. “Sorry, I know gross.”

She shook her head smoothing back his messy hair as she spoke her voice low. “It does beat the hell out of dealing with condoms.”

He pressed his lips to hers so thankful that she always had a way of making him feel less like an awkward idiot.

They widened their eyes as they heard an exasperated voice out in the hallway. “Has anyone seen Mini-Probie?”

Y/N muffled her laughter against Jimmy’s shoulder as an unfamiliar voice replied. “Who?”

“You know, Agent Y/L/N?” Tony sounded out still sounding so fed up.

They were thankful as his voice faded off, Tony clearly moving away from the supply closet.

Jimmy pressed his lips to hers his hands pressing to her cheeks he holding her against him even as they pulled from the kiss. “We should probably get back out there.”

She pressed one more kiss to his lips as she spoke. “I love you.”

“And I love you. You can drag me into a supply closet anytime you want.” He replied trying not to sound so eager.

She chuckled shaking her head as she moved up and off of him trying not to cringe at she mess they’d made. “You better not make that offer. I’ll keep taking you up on it.”

He smiled up at her, that lovesick smile once again returning to his lips. He had a feeling he wouldn’t have any problems with that.

“It doesn’t even have to be a supply closet. We could try a few other locations. I’m pretty sure I could find so many places for us to find some privacy around NCIS.” He exclaimed, causing her to giggle, he absolutely loving the sound.

It was such a world away from the sorrow filled girl he’d comforted in Autopsy a little over two years ago.

God, he loved her.

He had to hope she’d take him up on his offer. He wasn’t lying, she could pull him into the supply closet anytime she wanted.

[angelic-serenade]

Alastor + disaster cook! S/O

headcanons

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

gif, original work and characters do not belong to me

you could not cook to save your life

any attempt at cooking would result in certain failure in the best case scenario and 5.4 magnitude earthquake damage in the worst

sure, you could make edible pasta and if you really put your best efforts into it, acceptable omelette too

but anything past that level of complexity was simply out of your league, a lost cause to put it mildly

don't you even think about making a cake, that shit's dangerous

as they say: as above so below

when you landed in Hell and found yourself joining the Happy Hotel soon after, you came to find out your culinary skills had not magically improved

which is quite ironic since Charlie had made you head chef of the hotel

the string of curses which had left your lips upon hearing the news had been legendary, even for Hell

you adored the demon princess with your whole heart (or whatever was left of it anyway), bUT REALLY CHARLIE? YOU DO NOT GIVE A GUN TO A CHILD AND EXPECT CASUALTIES NOT TO HAPPEN

at this point you were certain she was subconsciously auto-sabotaging

either way, you didn't have the heart to tell her no, so you decided to put your heart and soul into trying to learn how to properly cook, which didn't turn out to be the ideal choice of words since you were in Hell and your soul was probably rotten to the core

at least, nobody could say you hadn't tried your damn best

and hey! some days your cooking hadn't even been completely sickening

you decided to stick to easy, “safe” dishes though, you know, just to be sure

so pasta and eggs were definitely a thing

a constant and repetitive thing to be precise

you were trying your best, okay? nobody in your place with your limited set of skills would have taken the job, but you did and you deserved recognition for that feat alone

or a fucking donkey hat for your skyrocketing dumbness levels

things were not so bad at first

both Charlie and Vaggie were very supportive, each one of them in their own way - even though you had totally seen Charlie trying to swallow pure unadulterated fear that one time you had announced you wanted to try to cook something more elaborate

Angel Dust on the other hand... hadn't been as considerate as to lie to your face about what he thought of your cooking

"fuck me doll, this shit's disgusting"

*insert the I don't have friends they disappoint me vine here*

Vaggie had proceeded to give Angel quite the earful while Charlie tried her best to cheer you up

you went full hermit mode on them for two days after that

you were proud of yourself, handling criticism so well

anyway, the cycle kept repeating, with the only difference that most days Angel would grab something to eat outside of the hotel and join you during meals only to blankly stare at the plates and silvery

Charlie had tried to shield you from the truth, but you weren't that stupid

you respected Angel's choice, really, you did, and you had decided to be the bigger person among the two

that's why you began to put a lil bit of laxative into his portions whenever he decided to grace your efforts and actually eat your "disgusting cooking"

y’know just to spicy things up a little

at least now he had a valid reason to complain

with the whole fiasco on live TV and the sudden and suspicious appearence of the one and only Radio Demon at your doorstep, however, things started going haywire

Alastor's presence was eeirly demanding and unsettlingly charmimg at the same time

so it was only natural for you to gravitate the fuck away from him whenever you could

you always acted politely, greeting him whenever you bumped into him through the corridors of the hotel, but you only went as far as to appear courteous because you didn't want for him to go Hannibal Lecter on you. thanks, no thanks

“and what can you do my feminine fellow?”

“I can suck your dick!”

you had snorted a bit at that which immediately shifted the strawberry pimp's attention to yourself

“and what about you, pretty dame? I take it you're in charge of the kitchens around here?”

dressed in your chef attire, you were going to meekly answer him, but before you could, roaring laughter erupted in the room. it belonged to the one and only slutty spider you found oh so irritating

in the fraction of seconds, Alastor snapped his neck at an unnatural angle to stare at the spider with a strained smile on his face

needless to say, the cursed image would forever haunt your traumatized psyche

“hasn't your mother taught you it is rude to interrupt a conversation which you have no part in? that just won't do!”

static filled the air and you feared you were going to implode if the heavy pressure didn't lift off soon enough, so you decided to take action

“ugh... yes, I'm the head chef! but, well, I... could actually use some practice and proper training?”

you hated how uncertain you sounded, but Angel's comments and your own dissatisfaction with your culinary products made you quite self-conscious about your skills

“don't fret your pretty little head about it, my dear! I, for one, am a culinary connaisseur and wonderful chef, if I do say so myself. I'll be ecstatic to guide you through your training!”

how you'd be able to handle his booming voice during hours and hours of practice was your first and main concern, but you had never been one to refuse the chance to finally prove the people who had criticized you wrong *cough cough* Angel Dust

since that day, Alastor began to personally give you cooking lessons

he was exuberant and pretty sly when it came to veiled jabs about your dreadful cooking, but he really took his time to help you out

which you had been both grateful and suspicious about

“now, we can't have our future patrons starving to death, can we?”

he was strangely patient and an overall good teacher too (emphasis on overall)

he guided you step by step through each dish, simultaneously showing off his own flawless culinary skills

you hated that you daily found yourself boosting his already GIGANTIC ego, but you couldn't help it. you could only dream about reaching that level of artistry in cooking

he always came up with creative recipes to test your limits and cooked for you in order to make you more familiar with different tastes. his mother’s were your favorites, jambalaya being his one true specialty 

he had blindfolded you once and proceeded to present you with various samples of spices, oilments and all kinds of food so that you could acquaint yourself with the smells and flavors of the ingredients and figure out yourself which ones would best suit a certain dish

saying you were hesitant at first was an understatement, because you know? being completely at the mercy of a sadistic serial killer who had terrorized the seven circles of hell? not even being able to see him? not on your bucket list

he had tried to ease your nervousness with the whole “if I wanted to hurt anyone here, I would have done so already” thing, but it was getting kind of old pretty fast

“if I had been one to play with fire, I'd have joined a circus”

he found your sense of humor as endearing your sheer presence

(when he rolled up his sleeves to cook, you felt like you could catch fire any minute, you were a slut for strong skinny arms) 

yes, Alastor had always loved to show off his own impeccable skills but he unexpectedly found himself enjoying the moments spent in your company too

he relished in seeing you fail again and again, but he also admired the way you always managed to bring yourself back up to your feet each time

he had yet to fully understand if it was foolishness or stubbornness to guide your steps

either way, you turned out to be his favorite form of entertainment in the hotel!

no matter how many slights would he send your way, you'd always manage to find an appropriate remark that made his permanent smile stretch a little more in sheer amusement

“oh dear, this beef is so undercooked one could still hear the poor beast’s lament”

“the only noise I hear is the obnoxious ramblings of an arrogant boomer”

he wasn't technically a boomer but it was always so satisfying to irk him with terms he had no knowledge of

during your cooking lessons, when the only thing left to do with a dish was wait and pray for the best, you'd come to talk about everything and anything

he'd talk to you about his precious New Orleans as he remembered it and you'd fill him in on recent historical/social developments of your time

he always looked so taken when you shared with him that modern knowledge and it made you feel useful for a change

it was, dare you say it, almost adorable how he'd ask you countless questions about your home town, the catastrophes of the last century and had there been any other war since his death?

the topic switches almost made you dizzy though

once or twice, when the timing allowed, he'd even indulge in a musical show to pass time

on the days your mood soured because of a particularly complicated recipe or bad result, he'd drag you along and dance until you were so distracted by the absurdness of the circumstances that you forgot about your previous sadness

with time, his musical shows became more frequent as he realized you'd always offer him a genuine smile after his flashy performances

it was out of personal indulgence, not because he liked the way his music always seemed to cheer you up

he'd not been vocal about the way he tried to comfort you, but you were grateful nonetheless

the first time you managed to succesfully complete one of his complicated recipes, you had almost cried

“now, now deary, under my watchful eye, it was only a matter of time until you'd finally blossom into a fine cook!”

“Alastor can I... can I hug you?”

and how could he say no to such an adorable expression? he found himself stunned into silence, not being able to tell you yes either, therefore you slowly came closer as if trying not to scare a wild animal away

when Alastor passively stood before you, not moving away, you wrapped your arms around him

he really was such a dorky noodle

he didn't relax into the hug, but he kept still as you relished in the moment and let the pressure you had hoarded for months now loose

Alastor proceeded to show off your dish during dinner and even Angel Dust could do nothing but shut up and dig in

The all powerful Radio Demon was simply so proud of your progress - not that he doubted you'd prevail in the end, thanks to his expertise and guidance

from that moment onward things only got better and even if you didn't necessarily need Alastor's help anymore, neither of you ever mentioned going your separate ways

you were both secretly glad for the silent agreement

friendly banter and dad jokes were a daily occurrence and with your new-found confidence in the field, you'd always bite back showing off new delicious dishes instead than words

you still had trouble every now and then, but Alastor was always there to help you out

not that you'd ever hear the end of it if you actually asked him for help

“what was that, my darling? is the mightiest chef in Hell having trouble in Paradise?”

you had noticed however that he'd started sneaking glances your way more than usual lately and he also started following you around wherever you went in the hotel. he became your shadow both inside and outside of the kitchen

the attention soon became unnerving, even more so when you'd go in the kitchen only find a different flower on the counter each morning

you came to realize that Alastor's advances were rather old fashioned, but you would amuse the dork and yourself for a while before taking charge

gifts became an ordinary occurrence as well as praise and you preferred not to think about what praise could do to you when it came from Alastor

he enjoyed your reactions to his flattering words a little too much, he had to admit

you had had enough of his childish antics one day and you decided to finally put your plan into action

“Al, can you come here for one sec?”

he wasn't particularly fond of the nickname, but you just loved to get under his skin as much as he did when it came to you

“what can I do for you, my darling chef?”

“here, I have a gift for you”

he looked uncharacteristically unsure of what to do but slightly amused as well. in the end curiosity took the best of him and he finally decided to open the box you had handed to him rather unceremoniously

“what is this dear?”

the apron you had chosen was a perfect fit for your long boi

“read it, please”

“kiss the cook? well, if you ask me so nicely, I just might have to”

he then proceeded to peck your cheek and you swore you could have fainted right there and then by the sheer sweetness of the gesture

it hadn't exactly been what you had planned, but you weren't going to complain

your relationship was bound to be full of surprises apparently

[writerpeach]

The Intern

Gahyeon x Male Reader

Words - 7593

Categories - smut, spanking, brat! Gahyeon

18+

---

Read on AO3

Read on AFF

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It was that time again for your monthly intern evaluations, something you and Kim Bora were in charge of, but also never looked forward to. It seemed that whenever your company didn’t want to deal with something, they threw the task at the two of you to complete instead. 

There were five interns employed underneath you, and while most of them showed constant progress and exemplary work ethic, there was one who was quite the opposite - Lee Gahyeon. 

Gahyeon was nothing but a constant stream of frustrations. She always came in late, refused to finish her work on time and properly, talked back to your team and clients, and had a general sense of apathy when it came to working. If it wasn’t such a hassle to replace her during such a busy time, you would have gotten rid of her already. Evaluations for the other interns went swimmingly as expected, and when it was Gahyeon’s turn a sense of dread filled the office. 

“Miss Yoohyeon, please send in Miss Gahyeon, please.” 

“Right away, sir.”

You sat behind a dark mahogany desk in a small office that generally used for interviews and various appointments, Bora sat to your right, both reluctant as ever for you last evaluation to start. 

“This is going to be fun,“ Bora said sarcastically, playing around with a pen nervously. 

Your final intern Gahyeon arrived in black & white, a cream-colored jacket that barely covered up a short crop top that showed her bare midriff, a tight black mini skirt and black heels. 

“Here we go,” you muttered under your breath. 

“Please sit down. Before we start, I’ll have you know that outfit is not appropriate,” Bora reprimanded, trying to mask her already annoyed tone. 

“But I like it? I look damn good in it,” she said nonchalantly, oblivious to any notion that she had broken any rules.  

“This is a business, not a fashion show. It is unprofessional to be showing that much skin. This is a professional workplace Gahyeon, and we expect you to dress like it. This is your last warning, next time we’ll send you home to change.” 

Gahyeon pouted and immediately changed the subject. “Is this when I ask for a raise?” she asked, the abruptness was comical. 

“A raise?” you asked incredulously, trying to stifle a laugh. 

“Yes! I’d like to have more money,” she responded, without even thinking.  

“A raise? You barely work as it is, Gahyeon,” you scoffed, with obvious frustration in your voice. 

“I don’t understand?” Gahyeon’s response was earnest. 

Bora couldn’t believe what she had just heard. 

“Gahyeon, even on a good day you manage to get as little as possible done. You clock in after the rest of the interns get here, you take longer lunch breaks, and on multiple occasions we’ve seen you hang up on clients. If anything we should pay you less,” she said, her tone becoming louder. 

“It’s not my fault our clients are assholes. They deserve to be hung up on,” Gahyeon said, crossing her arms. 

You and Bora looked at each other in dismay. “Even if that were to case it is unacceptable to treat them like that,” you firmly said. 

Bora looked sternly at the unmindful intern. ”Miss Gahyeon, all of your colleagues seem to have no problem with this job, but for the past three months ever since you were hired, you’ve been nothing but trouble.” 

Gahyeon had a shocked look on her face.”Trouble? B-but I do a lot for this company. I help create revenue.” 

Bora couldn’t help but let out a loud chuckle. “You create problems. And quite frankly you’re lucky you lasted this long.” 

“Gahyeon, I hate to do this, but I believe it’s in our best interest if we let you go,” you said without any hesitation. 

“Let me go?” Gahyeon said, tilting her head with a puzzled look.

“It means you’re fired,” Bora said. 

“No, no you can’t fire me. I belong here,” she said, suddenly panicking. 

“And what makes you think that? You do nothing but create more work for the two of us, and we’re swamped as it is already,” you said. 

“Because I’m a part of this company just as much as anyone else. It took me forever to get this job and I can’t have it taken away from me for some bullshit reason.” 

“Bullshit reason? Gahyeon, the only reason you have this job is the connections with your father and the donations he gave to our company. If it weren’t for him you wouldn’t have made it through the first round of interviews.” 

You and Bora got up from behind the desk, gathering your belongings and preparing to leave, Gahyeon stayed put. 

“I’m sorry, Miss Gahyeon, but we’ve made our decision. You’ll have time to say your goodbyes and clean out your desk. After that you’ll be escorted out of the building,” Bora said, without a trace of regret in her words. 

“No, w-wait. This is a huge mistake. I need this job.” 

“Why are you interested in working all of a sudden? Just ask your dad for another one,” you said. 

“He doesn’t talk to me anymore. We had a falling out.” 

“Well I don’t blame him, to be honest. But that’s not our concern,” Bora said. 

“I’d stop talking to someone if they were such a spoiled brat. We wish you the best in your next endeavors, Miss Gahyeon. Don’t bother asking for a referral,” you said, your words were harsh but true. 

“A brat…?” Gahyeon asked, cocking her head to one side.

“Yes, I won’t sugar coat it. You’re nothing but a brat who doesn’t do what she’s supposed to. Now if you’ll excuse us-” 

“You’re right. I am a brat.” Gahyeon stood up and blocked the door. 

You exchanged confused glances with Bora. 

“A spoiled...rotten... brat. One that needs to be punished.” 

“That’s not part of our job description. Now we really have to get going, we’re behind already,” you said, impatiently waiting for her to move out of the way. 

“No, you can’t leave. Not yet. Like you said...I’m a huge brat and I deserve my punishment.”

“Gahyeon, this is not appropriate,” Bora huffed. 

“Well, it’s a good thing that you just fired me right? Now give me what I deserve.” 

“Should I call security?” Bora asked.

You paused. “No. I want to see where this goes.” 

Gahyeon’s sparkling eyes had formed a union of innocence and desire. 

Bora scoffed. “So that’s what you’re into huh? Are you going to fuck another co-worker?” 

“Another?” Gahyeon interrupted. “Did you fuck Bora? Was that pussy tight?” 

“The tightest.” 

“Hey!” Bora yelled, and playfully slapped your shoulder. 

“I’ll do whatever you want as long as you punish me. I’ll come to work on time, I’ll do extra work, hell, I’ll even show up early.” Gahyeon’s eyes were pleading. 

“Well, as interesting as this all is... I’m going to head out,” Bora said.

“Wait,” you said, grabbing Bora’s slender wrist. “Why don’t you... stay? You might be of some use."

Bora laughed out loud. “Stay? Why?” 

“Because she’s our intern. Don’t you want to have a little fun with her? She’s willing to listen to us for once.” 

“When you put it that way…” 

“It’s settled then,“ you said, as you locked the door tight the three of you collectively smiled. 

“Now Miss Gahyeon...if you want to be punished so bad, how should we punish you?” Bora, asked, placing one hand on the door right beside her.

“I don’t care. Just punish me please.” 

“That’s not a very good answer,” you stated. “What do you think Bora?” 

“If you ask me...I think we should pull that poor excuse of a skirt up, bend her pretty little ass over that desk and spank her until she’s redder than a cherry.” 

Gahyeon didn’t give any sign of protest. 

“Sounds wonderful.”

“And if that’s not enough, you can fuck the brat out of her.” 

Bora’s lips curled as she approached Gahyeon, who became nervous in her presence. She ran a thumb over the younger girl’s lips seductively. “You’ll be a good girl for us now right?” 

The only thing Gahyeon could do was nod.

Bora took charge and led her to the desk, grabbing her by those full wide hips and spun her around until she faced away from her. She harshly pushed her down until Gahyeon was bent over obediently, arching her back and placing her palms flat on the wooden surface while she waited for what was next.

Not wasting any time, Bora yanked Gahyeon’s poor excuse of a skirt by the hem and drew it up until it was around her slender waist as agreed upon. letting both of you see her delicious round ass and the lacy black thong underneath that was doing its best to cover her backside up. 

“She has such a nice ass, doesn’t she?” Bora asked, as she kneaded both of her soft supple cheeks with both hands, squeezing the flesh carelessly and absolutely having her way with the intern’s body.

“She does. It’s almost as nice as yours,” you said, as Bora blushed. 

The very notion of your coworker Bora playing with the ass of another woman was a turn on to say the least. You learned during a drunken confession that Bora was interested in both men and women, something that you hoped came in handy someday, and that day was today thankfully. 

Bora grabbed the waistband of Gahyeon’s skimpy thong and harshly yanked it down to her ankles, exposing her plump pale ass and her heavenly bare thighs.

“She’s all yours,” she said, taking a step back. You smiled and rolled up your sleeves, leaving Gahyeon in anticipation as you stared at her divine bare ass.

“Now...Miss Gahyeon. If we’re going to punish you...and we are...you’re going to tell us what exactly we’re punishing you for,” you said, running your hand over one of her soft ass cheeks in preparation. “Be as specific as possible.” 

You sensed Gahyeon tensing up as you squeezed her ass firmly, the soft skin warm to the touch against your palm.

“I…” Gahyeon hesitated. 

“I-I’m a bad intern.” 

“Correct,” you said, giving her ass a light underhanded spank to warm her up. She barely moved. 

“I-I don’t show up on time.” 

You flattened your palm and lifted it just above her right cheek, bringing it back down hard across the warm soft skin, causing it to jiggle. Gahyeon gasped and her whole body flinched. 

“Keep going, don’t leave anything out.”

“I give my work to the other interns, and I flirt with them to convince them to do it.” 

Two more loud swats came across her ass in two different places, with the second one much harder. Gahyeon bit her lip to prevent any noises from escaping. 

“What else?” Bora asked. “We’re just getting started.” 

“I take longer lunch breaks than the rest of the interns. I took a two-hour break once and turned my phone off so nobody could bother me.” 

“So that’s what happened,” you said, switching to her other cheek and giving two loud slaps, pausing for several seconds and slapping her ass one more time, each smack earned a loud gasp.

“Ahh!” she yelped, and her body tensed up as she waited for more. 

You looked at the redness that had formed on each of her pale cheeks, and couldn’t help yourself as you smacked each side of her ass again twice for good measure. You looked up at Bora who was eager to have a shot. 

“Your turn.” 

She smiled and gladly took over. “Go on, Gahyeon.” 

“I-I...I’m rude to clients over the phone, and if they piss me off I hang up on them.” 

Bora swatted her ass once and cupped it, but then stopped, leaving Gahyeon bare-assed with her underwear still down to her ankles in the middle of the room. ”This won’t do, I’ll be right back. Don’t you dare move.” 

It took a few minutes for Bora to return, but when she came back she had something in her hand, something useful - a small red table tennis paddle. “This is just what I was looking for, found it in the recreation room.” 

“You’re full of surprises.” 

Bora slid the small paddle across the surface of Gahyeon’s ass and gave a quick spank to each of her cheeks, letting her adjust to the new feeling of the rubber against her skin. 

“Now, I know that’s not all. Please continue.” 

“Uh, I-I, can’t think of anything else,” Gahyeon smugly said. 

“Don’t lie to us, Gahyeon,” Bora said, smacking her ass hard enough to leave an imprint of the paddle on her bare ass, the crack of the paddle echoing throughout the room. She jerked again. 

“Maybe she’s lying on purpose, it appears our naughty little intern wants more punishment.” 

“Is that true?” Bora asked, bringing two fingers in between Gahyeon’s thighs and running them up and down her silky pink slit, feeling them coated by a surprising amount of warm slick liquid. “She’s drenched. Are you getting off on this Gahyeon?” 

Gahyeon kept her mouth shut, and Bora gave a warranted smack, not across her ass but on the side of her sensitive thigh. Gahyeon squealed. 

“What. Else.” 

“I-I’m sorry! I-I’m on my phone all the time, and...I take a lot of breaks without asking.” 

Bora upped the ante, smacking her ass twice for every confession. Her ass was bright red and sore, and Gahyeon had turned into a whining mess with each swat. Gahyeon jerked every single time, but Bora at least tried to rub some of the sting out by massaging her cheeks. “Do I need to stop?” 

“N-no, keep going please. I can take it,” she replied, with tears forming in her eyes. 

“Good.” 

There was something about the way Bora had control of Gahyeon that was just so, intoxicating. She had molded her into putty, Gahyeon would have done anything for Bora had she just asked. 

“There’s...there’s just one more thing,” Gahyeon said with a sniffle. 

“And what’s that?” 

“I-I...I don’t wear work-appropriate clothing. I like to wear skimpy outfits and show off skin. I like looking hot.” 

“That’s putting it mildly, I think,” Bora said, smacking Gahyeon’s ass two times. “If anything, I think you dress like a slut.” Bora tossed the paddle on the desk and it landed with a thud. 

“You forget, Miss Gahyeon, that this is not a reward...but a punishment,” Bora said, emphasizing the last word. She finished by smacking Gahyeon’s ass several times in a quick fury, slapping each sore cheek and alternating to make sure each was given equal attention. Gahyeon screamed. 

Bora looked down proudly at Gahyeon’s delectable ass being painted a bright shade of red as promised, and she grabbed a small bottle of lotion out of her purse and rubbed some into the red tender skin, trying to soothe it as best as possible. Bora got off on punishing others, but she wasn’t evil. 

“Are you okay, Miss Gahyeon?” 

“Y-yes...I...I loved it,” she said, giving a sly smile. 

“Not too rough?” 

“No, not at all. C-can I go, now?” Gahyeon asked as she turned around. Bora wiped the tears from her eyes with her thumb and gave her face a gentle pat. “You did very well, Miss Gahyeon, but what makes you think we’re done with you?” 

Gahyeon’s expression showed a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

“We’re not,” Bora said, as she began to unbutton your shirt and strip it off you. “So get on those knees and show us how well you can please a cock.”

 The sudden escalation didn’t bother Gahyeon who nodded and obeyed, stepping out of her underwear and dropping to her knees in front of you just at the head of the desk. Bora grabbed one of the two office chairs behind the desk and rolled it to the side, taking a seat to get a closeup view of the action. 

“Give me a good show, Gahyeon.” 

Gahyeon’s hands fumbled with your pants nervously until she unbuttoned them and pulled them off. Her hands were drawn to the bulge already formed through your boxers as she felt up your cock, feeling herself becoming wetter as she felt the shape of your shaft through the thin material. She removed your boxers in one swift movement and gasped as your rock hard cock was freed, throbbing mere inches from her pretty face. 

Gahyeon got straight to work as she wrapped her long slender fingers around your shaft, stroking your cock slowly feeling every inch in her delicate hands. She licked up and down your length, just enough to lubricate your shaft. She looked up at both you and Bora as if to make sure you were both watching and parted her full pink lips with the tip of your shaft as she took you into the warm comfort of her mouth. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, as you felt her soft pursed lips wrapping around your cock. Gahyeon hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head up and down, using her lips to apply a gentle but intense suction as she sucked you off, keeping those slender fingers wrapped tightly around your shaft as they moved in tandem with her heavenly mouth. 

still using her hand to twist around your cock in a gentle corkscrew motion. 

“At least there’s one thing she’s good at,” Bora said, with a wide smirk on her lips. 

You felt more of Gahyeon’s hot breath on your cock as her lips pushed further and took more of you into her wet mouth, causing several satisfied moans to escape from your lips as she found a rhythm to pleasure your cock, intently listening to the sounds you were making to know what to do next.

“Do you like sucking his dick?” Bora lewdly asked. Gahyeon nodded with your cock still in her warm mouth, slurping on your shaft as the only response she could make with her preoccupied lips. 

“Work those balls. He loves that.” Gahyeon complied, reaching a hand down and giving your balls a firm but gentle squeeze, keeping a constant pressure as she massaged and caressed them all while her lips kept a tight seal around your shaft. 

“Fuck, that feels good. Why can’t you be this good at your job?” you asked, running a hand through her pretty hair before holding on to the back of her head to help guide her, making her take you just a little deeper as her pace sped up. 

The warmth of Gahyeon’s mouth felt so goddamn incredible as she kept her pouty lips attached to your cock, using both her mouth and hand to give pleasure and her attention never left you as she left a path of warm saliva coating your cock. Her talented mouth retreated and advanced again, messily slurping away at your shaft with an insatiable hunger. Every second you felt those sinful lips performing magic between your thighs caused sharp indescribable pleasure that you couldn’t get enough of. 

“Does that feel good?” Bora asked, with you only able to respond in moans as you were otherwise frozen with pleasure. “Do you like taking advantage of our little slutty intern like this? I Can’t believe we were about to fire her when she gives such a good blowjob. Who knows what else she’ll do?” 

“A-anything,” Gahyeon said, as she withdrew her mouth from your slickened shaft for the first time, furiously stroking your cock and licking your length again. 

“Anything? Good, because I don’t think you’re going deep enough.” Bora waited until Gahyeon returned her pillowy soft lips to your shaft, exiting her chair unsatisfied and grabbed the back of her head and shoved her all the way down against your cock until her lips met your base. You groaned at such a lewd forceful act, and Bora held her down for several seconds until letting go, using Gahyeon to fuck her mouth with your hard shaft to increase your pleasure.

“Show us how a good little intern chokes on this dick,” Bora demanded, as she continued her vigorous use of Gahyeon, using her to pleasure you mercilessly. Gahyeon didn’t seem to mind, she kept constant eye contact as Bora kept her mouth filled, her gag reflex reacted every few seconds while her throat tightened each time you hit the back of it, your shaft being smothered and drenched with even more of her messy saliva. 

Bora was relentless, keeping Gahyeon moving as deep as she could go, listening to the messy slurps and gags that came out of her mouth until she had her fill and released her. Gahyeon coughed and spit dripped out of her pretty lips. 

“Messy girl,” Bora said, satisfied. 

Gahyeon turned her attention to you. “Did you like that?” she smiled as she wiped some of the spit from her chin and used it to stroke your hard shaft. 

“Fuck yes. It seems you’re some use to us after all.” 

Gahyeon stayed in position kneeling with her hands folded in her lap, waiting for her next orders patiently.

Bora looked at you for a response. “Strip,” you said, as Bora smiled. “Don’t leave a single thing on.” 

Gahyeon gave a shy smile as she rose to her feet and slipped her jacket off her shoulders, tossing it away. She grabbed the hem of her remaining shirt left on her body and pulled it up over her head, leaving her upper torso in just a simple strapless bra that matched the color of her panties and showed an ample amount of cleavage. 

As you two enjoyed the show, Bora whispered to you. “She is really hot.” 

“She is.” You bit your lip, trying to calm yourself as you were dying to see the rest of Gahyeon’s tight body. It took all the willpower in the world to not bend her over and rip the rest of your clothes off yourself. Patience was a struggle right now. 

Gahyeon confidently undid the clasp of her bra, no longer struggling the same way she did as she unfastened your pants. She slipped out of it and disposed of it elegantly, exposing her beautiful bare breasts for both of your eyes to feast on. Gahyeon’s chest wasn’t as large as Bora’s, but she was still quite endowed, something that came as a surprise to both of you. 

“Didn’t know our little slut was so busty,” Bora said, as Gahyeon undid the zipper on the final remaining garment, and her tight miniskirt fell to the floor gracefully. Her bare mound looked absolutely delicious - cleanly shaven, pink, and dripping with juices. 

“Yummy,” Bora said, as she approached Gahyeon’s tight naked body, taking a lap around her to check out every single curve. She squeezed each of her round breasts firmly before diving in, licking and biting her sensitive nipples as she whined. Bora dropped to her knees and licked a long stripe up and down Gahyeon’s wet pink slit, causing her to gasp as Bora quickly removed her mouth. 

“That’s all you get.” 

Bora returned to your position and you felt her warm lips on yours, giving you an ample taste of Gahyeon. “I wanna watch you fuck her.”   

You smiled a mile wide as you took Gahyeon by the hand to the opposite side of the desk and cleared a path, shoving useless paperwork and other nonsense aside. You lifted Gahyeon and laid her down with her back flat on top of your desk, looking straight into her eyes with lust. 

“It seems like you’ve done this before,” Gahyeon said, giving a mischievous grin on her full lips.

“Never, this desk is only for business use,” you grinned. 

Bora sat back down, crossing her legs and waited for a second performance to start, ensuring she was at the perfect angle to watch.

“Are you just going to stare or are you going to fuck me?” Gahyeon asked with a cheeky smile. 

You kept your expression blank and ignored her as you looked at her spread naked body and gave yourself a chance to admire every inch of it - her beautiful face, her perfect ample breasts, her tight toned midriff, and possibly your favorite part of Gahyeon, her full thick thighs that you placed a hand on to spread wide as possible. 

You couldn’t wait much longer as you took your cock and pushed it in between Gahyeon’s slippery pussy lips, feeling her preemptively squeezing against you in anticipation. You looked into her round, smoky eyes, seeing the hunger and need in them already. You took a deep breath, and upon exhaling you pushed your shaft in all the way deep inside Gahyeon to enter her in a firm smooth motion, as her walls instinctively clenched around your cock and she let out a loud desperate moan.

“Fuck, you’re big!” Gahyeon cried out, and you didn’t give her any chance to adjust as you began to thrust inside her, moving in and out of her tight wet pussy in long, deep satisfying strokes as you hooked your arms underneath her warm soft thighs and hugged them tightly. 

Bora watched the action intently as you moved your hips rhythmically, finding a slow and steady tempo to fuck Gahyeon with. You felt her silky wet lips gripping your cock each time you entered her, and when you withdrew your shaft almost entirely out of her body you took pleasure as every inch of your shaft was coated with the slick of her tight warm walls. 

“How does he feel, Gahyeon? You like that big cock inside you?” 

“So fucking good, oh my god. I’ve never felt so stretched before, I don’t want him to ever stop fucking me.” 

“Oh, I don’t think he has any plans to. You’re such a pretty intern, I’m going to enjoy watching him ruin you.” 

You traded smiles with Bora as you drilled into Gahyeon, trying to force your needy cock as deep into her as it would go, watching the pleasure contorting her gorgeous face as she grabbed on to the edge of the desk above her head with both hands, which had the added benefit of letting you see those supple breasts bouncing with every thrust that rocked her hot body.

“Shit, you’re so fucking deep, so deep in my tight little pussy, oh fuck!” Gahyeon’s mouth stayed agape as you kept her filled to the hilt, stretching her walls out wide and she kept moaning loud enough for anyone within earshot to listen to how much she enjoyed being taken. 

Bora didn't mind watching, but she needed a little extra and wanted to be a part of the fun instead of just a passive participant. She didn’t stay idle for long, rolling her chair just behind Gahyeon’s head as she latched onto her full breasts again and groped them, pinching her nipples and playing with them, flicking around each one as Gahyeon screamed and you felt her pussy tightening in response. 

“These tits are incredible,” Bora said, looking at you as she still had two big handfuls of her mounds.”You should feel them.” 

She moved out of the way to free up her chest, and you ran your hands up the smooth creamy skin of Gahyeon’s body, feeling her flat tummy and reaching her bountiful breasts as you cupped them, the softness of them unmatched. 

“See?” Bora said with a smile. 

While you focused all your attention on Gahyeon’s breasts, kneading and squeezing them as much to feel up as much as you could, she abruptly grabbed one of your hands and guided it to her neck. Bora looked on with as much surprise as you did. 

“Choke me,” Gahyeon begged, and her voice cracked. It was abrupt, it was a bit wild, but you felt no reason to deny her request as you gently squeezed the side of her sensitive neck, careful not to hurt her but also relieved that Bora was there as a second set of eyes to make sure everything was under control.

And so you kept the rhythm strong while you pumped your hard shaft deep inside Gahyeon’s tight dripping cunt, squeezing her neck just a little more which caused her pussy clenching around your hard shaft tighter, drowning your shaft with more of her slick as you watched her half-lidded eyes demanded more, even as she took every hard thrust you gave her with ease. 

“Oh god, oh my fucking god, I’m gonna cum!” she whined, ”Please don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop!”

You kept your thrusts deep and your hand on her warm neck as she arrived at climax. Bora watched from the sidelines as Gahyeon’s back arched and her body quivered, letting out the cutest whiny moans as you felt intense wetness surrounding your cock that squeezed tight like a vice grip. Gahyeon felt every last inch of your cock continuing to fuck her through her intense orgasm as her eyes rolled back and her whole body felt as light as a cloud.

“It seems our little slutty intern is also our little kinky intern,” Bora said teasingly. “Who also doesn’t ask for permission to cum.” 

When Gahyeon finally came back from her high, her glazed over eyes became apologetic. “I-I’m sorry! I couldn’t help myself!” 

“We’ll let it slide this time,” Bora said. “Only because I know how easy it is to cum all over his cock.”

You quietly laughed to yourself at the compliment as you slowed down your movements and released her neck. Gahyeon pouted at the lack of pressure.

“How’s that pussy treating you?” Bora asked.

“I love it. She’s fucking tight, and she’s so wet. I could fuck her all day.” 

Bora giggled. ”I’m sure you both would love that but we do have work to finish at some point.” 

 “Fine,” you frowned. “I wanna fuck you from behind, Gahyeon.” Her eyes grew wide in approval. 

“Then please fuck me from behind, sir.” 

That additional sir drove you wild for some reason. The little spoiled brat that wouldn’t do a damned thing you asked now was suddenly submissive and at your very will. It was a nice change. 

As you withdrew your cock from inside Gahyeon you peeled her off the desk and turned her around hastily, bending her over in a position that had become familiar, she settled into it right away.

You turned your attention to her plump bare ass, the skin still a muted pink at the hands of your combined spanking as you kneaded the soft cheeks, their warmth and firmness gave you that extra bit of arousal as you squeezed them to your heart’s content.

“Your ass is amazing, Gahyeon,” you said. She blushed at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“It’s a shame I don’t have any lube in my purse,” Bora said.”That ass looks ripe for a pounding.” 

“We’ll make sure to buy some for next time,” you said, feeling the smirk forming on your mouth that matched Bora.

“N-next time?” Gahyeon nervously asked.

“Yes, don’t think this is a one-time thing,” Bora said. “If you want to continue to be part of this company, we’ll keep you around as our...little plaything. Is that okay with you?”

“Y-yes, of course,” Gahyeon said approvingly. 

While you readied yourself to enter Gahyeon again, Bora got a little more comfortable. With her chair in front of the action, she kicked her heels off and placed her bare feet on the desk, crossing one leg over the other. 

“Give her a good pounding,” Bora ordered. “If she can still walk out of here after this, then you weren’t hard enough.” 

You smiled and lined your cock up with Gahyeon’s dripping tight hole once more, feeling her satisfying slick warmth again as you nudged against her entrance. 

“Please put it back inside me, I need your cock,” Gahyeon pleaded, and you shared her impatience. 

Every second spent not inside her tightness was maddening, something you planned on rectifying as you grabbed onto her wide hips and squeezed tight. You didn’t dawdle and slammed her body back against your own to enter her again, impaling her tight pussy deep with every inch as her hot wet flesh wrapped around your shaft again, not wanting to ever let go of you.

Gahyeon gasped loudly at being so filled again, and with your hands on her warm body you kept her stationary with her pussy stuffed with cock, adjusting to the sensations driving you wild as you gathered your senses. 

“Fuck me,” Gahyeon whined. 

There wasn’t anything in the world that would have stopped you from doing so. You squeezed Gahyeon’s body more and used her hips to pull her off your shaft until just your tip was left inside her. You paused and let a moment go by, and using the same movement you slammed her tight ass back against your body and kept your cock deep inside her warm depths. 

“Fuuuck!” Gahyeon moaned lustfully, only able to spout a single word as she found herself buried to the hilt with your shaft. You kept this up for several repetitions, watching her arching her back instinctively every time you filled her tight slick walls. Bora looked on flustered, biting her lip and softly stroking her legs to find an outlet as she found herself enjoying the action a little too much, drunk on jealousy and feeling a wetness forming between her thighs. 

Meanwhile, you held Gahyeon in place, staring at her ass and her dripping tight hole that had become a new home for your cock as you fucked her with slow and deep thrusts, savoring the way her pussy hugged your shaft perfectly as you stretched her out.

With every movement of your hips came new sounds that escaped from Gahyeon’s lips, sounds of pleasure and satisfaction, sounds that motivated you and heightened your arousal, and suddenly sounds that sounded suddenly different, yet familiar. Sounds that were easily recognizable as not from Gahyeon, but Bora. 

You looked up to find the culprit, none other than your coworker Bora with her panties down to her ankles and a hand in between her spread thighs. 

“Enjoying the show, Bora?” you teasingly asked. 

“Y-yes, keep fucking her, keeping fucking our slutty little intern so she can get off, so I can get off.”

You kept fucking Gahyeon slowly, savoring her warmth and how tight she was, encouraged now by not only one woman, but two moaning loudly into the room. Bora caught eyes with you, and she was quickly turning herself into a loud moaning mess. 

“F-fuck her harder, make her take that fucking dick, stretch her tight little pussy like you did mine, fuck, oh my god, fuck!”

You followed Bora’s orders and began to drive your cock into Gahyeon with much harder and deeper thrusts, increasing the volume and intensity of her delicious moans.

Bora was in her own world as she watched one of her interns get absolutely ravaged by you, keeping a hand between her wanton spread legs and her head tilted back, making an absolute mess between her thighs. 

“Fuck her, oh my god, keep fucking her just like that, oh fuck!” 

Gahyeon held on the edge of the desk, feeling her pussy stretched and filled made her impossibly wet, and at the sight of Bora touching herself turned her on even more. 

“Oh, oh god, that feels so good! You fuck me so well!”

You were in heaven. Two women moaning simultaneously drove you crazy, you had such a tight grip on Gahyeon’s hips that you might leave a bruise, but you didn’t care, and she didn’t seem to care either. 

“Fuck that pussy hard!” Bora continued to demand, her fingers were as deep inside her pussy as your cock was in Gahyeon. The trio of moans that filled the room was loud, sultry, and desperate, all three of you were thirsty for more pleasure.

“Do you like that cock, Gahyeon? Do you like being filled and ravaged while one of your bosses watches?” 

“Yes! His cock fills me up so nicely, I love showing you what a good little slut I can be! Ah, fuck he’s deep!” 

You fucked Gahyeon so hard that you felt you were about to pass out from pleasure. Her pink dripping flesh wrapped around you so tightly that it almost hurt, the constant wetness that lubricated your shaft with every thrust ensured the smoothest of penetration, the tightness of her body containing your cock inside her and made impossible for you to leave, not that you ever wanted to. 

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum!” you heard, and that loud shrill voice could only be from Bora’s mouth as she furiously rubbed herself between her thighs. She mirrored Gahyeon’s earlier movements from before as her climax hit hard and screamed in pleasure, drenching her fingers and mostly likely saturating the office chair as she did her best to ride out her orgasm. 

Overcame with bliss, Bora panted hard as her eyes tried to continue watching her intern being mercilessly fucked, smiling at the lewd act taking place in front of her. She rolled her chair over to meet Gahyeon, legs still wobbly to move and she presented her slick covered fingers to Gahyeon take care of.

“Suck them clean,” she demanded, just three simple words and Gahyeon complied without a complaint, grabbing her slim wrist and hungrily wrapping her lips around each wet finger and slurped on each one lewdly and proudly, filling her mouth with the taste of Bora and utterly satisfied at her deliciousness. 

“F-fuck, you’re so tasty, Bora,” Gahyeon said, words becoming an afterthought at the moment. Before Bora could say anything in response she pressed her fingers back into her Gahyeon’s mouth, deep into the back of her warm throat as muted moans tried to find their way out. 

You couldn’t help but enjoy the sinful sounds of Gahyeon gagging on Bora’s fingers, trying to time your rough deep thrusts with each insertion. Gahyeon was losing it, you were pounding into her tight cunt so hard and fast and even moan properly with Bora’s delicious fingers in her mouth, she felt overwhelmed but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Mmph, gonna cum!” Gahyeon tried to say, but anything was utterly impossible to speak out loud with Bora’s fingers stuffed down her throat.

“What was that?” Bora asked after devilishly grinning, harshly fucking her mouth with just two deadly fingers as deep as they would go. Gahyeon tried to speak again to no avail and drool just dripped out of her mouth and covered Bora’s fingers.

“Such a drooly little mess.” 

Bora had her fill and withdrew her slick fingers, wiping them off on Gahyeon’s cheek who desperately spoke out. “I’m going to cum!” 

Bora looked at her with an intense stare. “No, no you’re not Gahyeon. What did we tell you about needing permission?” 

“P-please! I need it!” 

You both ignored her pleas and instead focused on the harsh slapping sounds as your hips crashed against Gahyeon’s ass, filling her deep using all the available energy you had left, keeping her pussy nice and sealed airtight with your cock. 

You could taste Gahyeon’s desperation, her whines and cries for release did nothing, and you only wanted to drive her wild with need. 

“Gahyeon, you already came once, isn’t that enough?” you asked.

“N-no! I need to cum again, I need to cum on your cock again, please!” 

“Don’t you fucking dare. Two orgasms? That’s a little greedy,” Bora said. 

“You’re not going to cum, Gahyeon. But I am.” 

Bora smirked and looked straight into the desperate eyes of Gahyeon. She liked what she saw. 

“Where do you want his cum, Gahyeon? Do you want it inside you? Or on that perfect ass? Maybe those tits?” 

“I-I don’t care, just please, please let me cum!” 

You slowed the pace down in response, moving slower and slower inside until you barely moved. Gahyeon couldn’t take it. 

“N-no, p-please, I’m s-so close!” 

Bora ignored her again. “Or...I bet you’d look really pretty with a nice... thick load all over that gorgeous face of yours. You’d like that wouldn’t you, Gahyeon?” 

“Y-yes, I’d love that. P-please cum on my face!” 

“I think she wants her face painted. Give her what she wants.” 

You sped back up, drilling Gahyeon as hard and fast as you could, feeling the knot in your abdomen pulling tighter more with each pace. Gahyeon moaned impossibly loud, almost a shriek as you felt her pussy almost squeezing the life out of your cock. 

You wanted to cum just as much as you wanted to yourself. “Cum for us Gahyeon,” you whispered into her ear, and brought a hand between her thighs and rubbed harsh circles against her clit.

“T-thank you!” Gahyeon never felt so relieved in all her life. She came right away. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, that cock is making me cum again!”

Her hips bucked violently, and her upper torso crashed against the desk. You felt her pussy pulsating, and there was a wetness between both of your crotches you never felt before. Gahyeon kept screaming in pleasure, only stopping once her tremendous high had settled down, and couldn’t stop shaking until Bora rubbed her shoulders to calm her down.

“Good girl. You did so well for us, now when he pulls out you better get on your knees and take that huge load, got it?” 

Gahyeon nodded eagerly. 

You felt the pressure hitting your peak, wanting to feel Gahyeon as long as possible and pumped her full of cock until you couldn’t take anymore and withdrew immediately. Gahyeon did as instructed and knelt in front of you, head tilted up, eyes lustfully glued to your cock and tongue out, ready to receive your load. 

Bora surprisingly joined her, grabbing hold of your stiff throbbing cock that was about to erupt. 

“Let me help you out.” She smiled, and with a tight grip Bora jerked your cock frantically and aimed it at Gahyeon, using her as your eager and awaiting target. 

“Cum on her face,” Bora ordered. “Cum on our pretty little slut’s face and cover her, you’re so close I can feel it.“ It didn’t take long, especially Bora’s dirty talk helping just as much as her pumping hand was.

You groaned loudly as two thick spurts shot out forcefully, landing side by side onto Gahyeon’s forehead and the second ended up catching in her pretty dark hair. Bora loved the way you moaned when you climaxed, especially the way you throbbed for her as the next stream shot just below the bridge of Gahyeon’s nose and connected to her left cheek. 

With you still moaning and gasping, the final part of your load hit Gahyeon square on the chin, and Bora finished you off onto Gahyeon’s open lips and tongue, milking every drop out of you and Gahyeon made sure not to miss anything as she happily was bathed with your warm thick seed.

Gahyeon couldn’t have smiled any wider as she felt your heavy thick load clinging to her face, without instruction she sucked your cock clean as Bora let go, and you were in absolute delight as you looked at her messy cum stained face as she released your shaft with a loud sensual pop. The thick load planted on her perfect features slowly started to drip down, and she never looked prettier. 

“Such a messy little slut aren’t you?” Bora asked, and Gahyeon nodded proudly. Gahyeon swallowed what had gathered on her tongue, and Bora licked a swipe of the mess on her face from her, stealing a sample even though she was very familiar with the taste already.

“I can’t tell whose cum tastes better,” she smiled.

“So... I’m still an intern? Gahyeon asked, unphased at being covered with sticky dripping cum everywhere. 

“Yes, for now. As long as you listen to us now, there won’t be a problem,” Bora said. 

“D-do I...get a raise?” she asked, and the innocent features of her face now covered in your thick semen was such a striking contrast, you couldn’t help but be charmed by her. 

You looked at Bora for guidance, but her expression made it crystal clear that the decision was up to you. 

“That all depends on you. If you continue to perform well as an intern, including some special after-hours assignments, then we’ll give you up to a nice pay increase.” 

“T-thank you!” Gahyeon giggled with glee. She was used to getting what she wanted, and this was no exception. 

“Now go get cleaned up, we have actual work to do now. And we expect you to listen to us now, understand?” Bora said. 

“Y-yes! I’ll do anything that’s asked of me!” Gahyeon stood to gather her clothes, moving gingerly as she felt the effects of the rough pounding she had just taken. Bora gave one final slap on her backside, causing her to squeal. 

“This ass is our property now, don’t forget it.” 

“Y-yes, ma'am!” 

“Guess our little brat can be tamed after all. She’s going to be a lot of fun,” you said to Bora, who shared your enthusiasm. 

Having Gahyeon around as your obedient intern was going to be a lot more interesting, and monthly evaluations were going to turn into weekly evaluations just for her. Gahyeon was going to be a very valuable asset. 

[forestwater87]

Last year I finished all my @gwenvidweek​ prompts like a week ahead of time, and that's why they were really good and not rushed. That didn't happen this year, so if this ending seems like it was slapped together by a very tired bean who hasn't eaten dinner yet and it's almost bedtime, that's because it was. Be gentle. 

(I like the title a lot, though.)

Gwenvid Week, Day 2: Exploring/First Aid

“Gwen! David! Look what I found!”

Gwen took a deep breath, forcing her caffeine-jittery nerves to relax. She emphatically did not want to look what Nerris had found, because whatever Nerris found was almost certainly going to mean work for them -- or her, really, since David had such a great talent for fucking off and leaving her with the hard jobs. She’d already unclogged a toilet, lectured the campers about what could and could not be flushed down a toilet, and she had a pile of bills to pay this afternoon, plus a spider had gotten crushed in the pages of her magazine and she couldn’t read about the Kardashians without staring at bug guts.

So, no. She was not in the mood to deal with anyone’s bullshit today.

David jogged past, catching her by the wrist and tugging her along. “Gwen, didn’t you hear Nerris? Let’s go check it out!”

Speak of the bullshit. She sighed and trudged along behind him, dragging her feet as much as she could without him noticing and giving her a speech about how a good attitude leads to good things. She loved her co-counselor, she really did, but her patience with him was pretty thin at the best of times, and today was not what she’d call the best of times.

Nerris led them to the far edge of the campgrounds, where the shore of Lake Lilac turned into algae-slimy boulders before seamlessly transitioning into dense forest. David opened his mouth, clearly gearing up to give her a stern lecture about safety and the buddy system, when she pointed at a dark spot in the brush. “I think it’th a cave,” she said, her voice hushed and awestruck, “but I can’t really tell.”

Part of her wanted to ask Nerris who cares about a stupid cave, but the part of her that’d been a camp counselor for half a decade knew it would take exactly two and a half seconds for Nikki to decide to explore this if she knew about it. “Thanks,” she said instead, giving Nerris an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Don’t tell the others about this, okay? We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Duh.” She rolled her eyes with an uncharacteristic amount of disdain. “None of them are a high enough level to explore a dungeon thith far from a checkpoint.”

Gwen looked to David for help, and he just shrugged. “Sure. Whatever. Thanks again.”

Once she was gone, David tugged a butterfly knife from his pocket -- it was a shimmery iridescent pink, of course -- and carefully stepped toward the cave, balancing carefully on the slick rocks dotting the sandy dirt.

She rolled her eyes. “What’re you gonna do with that, Crocodile Dundee? Give whatever’s living in there a paper cut?”

He turned to face her, pouting. “We need to take a look before we can block it off from the campers. If there are animals living in there --”

It didn’t look big enough for anything to live in there, as far as Gwen could tell. Just the perfect size for a dumbass camper. “Fine, take a look.”

The butterfly knife wasn’t equipped to deal with clearing brush, so she waited for almost ten minutes, watching a squirrel have an existential crisis and generally zoning out. Finally she heard David’s voice: “Oh! Gwen, this is . . . it’s a lot bigger than it seems.”

No way in hell was she going over to take a look, not when she’d just watched David battle his way through. “Neat.”

“I can’t see the end of it!” He emerged from the cave and picked his way back to her. His legs and arms were lined with tiny scratches, and the red pouf of his fringe was beginning to droop. “I think we need to get a better look.”

Oh, great. This was shaping up to be a whole big thing. “Come on, Daniel Boone,” she said with a sigh, turning to head back. “Let’s get you ready to go exploring.”

David couldn’t go alone, obviously. Even if he wasn’t the most accident-prone person on the planet, Gwen had co-taught enough Wilderness Survival camps to know that letting someone go off on their own was a terrible idea. And after his nightmarish experience getting lost in the woods last summer, she wasn’t happy to let him explore this cave at all, let alone by himself. No matter how fine he said he was -- or maybe especially because he insisted he was fine.

Mr. Campbell was the obvious choice, considering his experience, but he was still very much on probation, and if the Millers showed up for one of their surprise inspections before he got back, Gwen would be the one who’d have to explain to angry secret agents why their top prisoner had fucked off into the wilderness.

(It was actually Mr. Campbell who came up with this objection. Even though it was clearly because he’d rather sit in the Mess Hall watching TV than trudging through a dark cave, his logic was totally sound; she suspected he actually got smarter when he was trying to weasel out of something.)

QM volunteered . . . and the less said about that, the better. The short version was a unanimous “No” at varying volumes and degrees of alarm.

Which left . . . Gwen.

Awesome.

“Isn’t this exciting?” David asked, adjusting his backpack as he bounded along at her side. A ceaseless fountain of exuberance, he had a simple pattern of keeping in step with his co-counselor: skipping ahead a few feet, hopping up onto the balls of his feet once or twice to shake out a bit of excess energy, then whirling around and making a quick lap around her before falling into step for half a second, then hurrying ahead again to repeat the entire routine.

It tired her out just looking at him. “David, it’s just looking at a cave. Shine a flashlight in there, make some noise to scare out anything dumb enough to live in there, and then board the damn thing up and never think about it again.”

“I don’t know, Gwen. It looked like it might go pretty deep!” He clasped his hands at his chest, his eyes practically sparkling. “This is a real, honest-to-goodness adventure!”

“Uh-huh.” She was allergic to adventures, unless they involved shirtless human-adjacent dudes. Not that it mattered.

Of course, David was carrying all of the exploring gear Gwen expected would be absolutely useless -- first aid kit, flashlight, food, a goddamn machete of all things -- leaving her to carry the actually important tools they’d be using to close off the cave to camper access. The boards weren’t all that heavy, really, but they were extremely awkward, and anything got uncomfortable to carry when you had to bring it half a mile in the blazing-hot sunlight. Plus she was pretty sure the damn things were giving her splinters, and her fingers were cramping from the uncomfortable and unsteady grip.

David noticed exactly none of this, either due to total obliviousness or a semi-conscious decision not to. “When was the last time you’ve had a chance to explore somewhere new?”

“Uh . . . never?” Okay, so she was obsessed with urban explorer Tumblr pages, but even though her neighborhood was full of abandoned buildings ripe for discovery, Gwen’s sense of self-preservation was way too high to actually check any of them out.

“Golly, really?” He beamed at her, skipping backwards a few feet so he could maintain eye contact. “I’m so honored to be your first!”

Did she want to tell him how that sounded? She deliberated for half a second before deciding god no, she wasn’t having that conversation again; instead she bit back a laugh and mumbled some bullshit about new experiences.

His enthusiasm was like a puppy, and on a good day she thought it was pretty adorable how he could bounce along from disaster to disaster without ever letting it wear him down.

But god, when she was already on her last nerve . . .

“There we are!” He leapt over the straggly line of mossy rocks and began hacking a path through the undergrowth with his machete (which, okay, was more useful than she’d assumed).

Gwen threw down her stack of boards -- they were damp and disturbingly spongy, which was neither improving her mood or her faith in this whole dumb enterprise. Shaking out her arms to try and get rid of the “I was just holding rotten wood” feeling, she then stepped back until she was in the full glare of the sun, closing her eyes, tilting her head back, and pretending she was lying on a lounger by the world’s nicest pool. (Her happy place was essentially the Love Island villa; it had all her favorite things -- beautiful morons, lots of alcohol, functional indoor plumbing, and no kids. A bit basic, but she’d made her peace with her own boringness a while ago.)

“Gwen! Let’s go!”

And there went her happy place. She groaned, opening her eyes. David was wrestling his backpack off, trying to simultaneously dig through it and mostly flailing like an idiot.

She sighed, unbuckling the toolbelt around her waist and letting it drop onto the pile of boards. “Remind me why we can’t just block the mouth of this cave off and get on with our very busy day?” she snapped.

“Because there might be something living in there,” he said, tilting his head to the side and crossing his arms -- his bag forgotten at his feet. “We don’t want to trap it inside!”

Even Gwen had to admit she felt a little squeamish about potentially leaving some cute little furry creature to starve to death in the darkness. But that didn’t mean she had to be happy about it. “God, fine. Let’s just get this over with and --”

As she crossed the beach toward David’s makeshift path, her foot landed on a patch of slick algae; her ankle buckled and she collapsed with a yelp, her knee scraping the side of the rock as she went down.

“Fuck,” she hissed, scrambling away from the stupid rocks and assessing the damage. Nothing dire -- her ankle was a little twingey but nothing was sprained or broken, and the scratch on her knee looked worse than it was thanks to the grimey green staining her skin from the algae -- but it was just painful enough to piss her off. “Great start.” She climbed to her feet and brushed herself off. “Super fucking -- what’s the word? Auspicious? Yeah, totally auspicious omen right there.”

“Gwen?” He was watching her anxiously, either because of the blood staining her sock or because she was muttering to herself like a crazy person. He fumbled in his bag and pulled out the cookie tin that housed one of their First Aid kits. “Gee, are you okay? That looked like a rough fall!”

The last thing she needed was David squawking around her like a mother hen. And for some reason, the thought of smoothing one of their cutesy bandaids over her stupid knee and spending the rest of the day looking down at Mikey Mouse’s dumb face (the ripoff bandaids were cheaper than the real Disney ones) irritated her more than just leaving it. “It’s fine,” she said, smearing away the worst of the blood and dirt with the heel of her hand and wiping it off on her already-stained sock. “It’ll stop in a minute anyway.”

He didn’t reply, but his face was like a neon billboard most of the time, and right then it was flashing the words, “I wish you wouldn’t do that, but you’re way too scary in this mood so I’m not going to say anything.” If her cut got infected, she’d be treated to the smuggest “I told you so” in history.

But that was a risk she was willing to take, because stopping and asking him for a band-aid now would be even worse. “Are we going spelunking or what?” she asked, forcing something resembling enthusiasm into her voice. Judging by the strange, slightly horrified look he gave her, she wasn’t pulling it off well, so she dropped the front with relief. “Let’s get it over with already.”

---

The mouth of the cave reminded Gwen of the hole the White Rabbit led Alice through, in that it was small, slippery, and way longer than she’d initially thought.

And that she fell down it.

It was only about ten feet, to be fair, but it was ten feet down a steep incline lined with muck (and one exposed root that she was positive left a bruise on her butt), and the bottom was just a big mud puddle, swarming with buzzing flying bugs. And she landed ass-first into the puddle, after sliding ass-first down into the cave, and in general neither she nor her ass were having a very good expedition so far.

“Be careful,” she called up, frowning at the hole ten feet up and wondering if she could possibly climb back the way she’d come. She didn’t have the survival skills to be a mole person, she just knew it. “It’s really sli --”

“Whoa!” David breezed past her, skidding down the incline with his arms out to the side like a surfer and coming to a graceful stop a few feet away, kicking up a small wave of puddle-water that somehow didn’t get splash back onto him. He turned back to her, beaming, and untied the end of a rope from his belt. “Thanks for the warning, Gwen!” he said, and she realized the rope led back up out of the cave. “Though I wish you’d waited until after I secured the rope to come down here -- but I guess you were just too excited to get adventuring, huh?” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in his face and voice.

That fucker.

“How . . .” She gestured at him; between the two of them, he should’ve been the one bleeding and covered in mud! He was the clumsiest person she’d ever met, and here he was looking like a Generic Hiking Magazine cover. “How?”

David didn’t seem to notice her question, looking around the cave with his hands on his hips. “This is even bigger than it looked from the surface,” he said admiringly, nodding to himself. “It looks like it keeps going that way! Here we go!” He took her hand and dragged her toward the back of the cave, each step sending water sloshing against her legs and soaking through her boots.

The mud made an obscene sucking sound as they walked through it, clinging to their boots like quicksand and only letting go reluctantly. It was damp and dark, the anemic yellow light of David’s flashlight flickery and unstable, darting around at a speed that made her feel kind of sick. Once she lifted her hand to brush some hair out of her face and touched something furry that was hopefully moss but probably a bat. And the ground kept sloping down, forcing them to lean back to keep their footing and creating the dizzying illusion that they were making their way deep into the center of the earth.

All in all, zero out of ten on the Camp Campbell Cave Tour, as far as she was concerned.

David, of course, was having a great time. “Isn’t this beautiful? We don’t usually get to experience nature like this, but life exists in so many different forms in the forest, even if it’s not green and sunny! It’s great to get a chance to see a new perspective, don’t you think?”

“Hnnh.” (She realized a few minutes in that he didn’t need encouragement to keep talking, and would carry on whether she was listening or not. Mostly the vaguely-affirmative noises were to make sure her voice muscles didn’t atrophy as they continued their eons-long underground journey.)

“I don’t think I’ve had a chance to explore a cave like this since Jas -- in a good long while! Not since I myself was a Camp Campbell camper.”

“Mmn.”

“You know, I sometimes wish --” He cut himself off with a gasp, the flashlight jerking in his hand before he steadied it. “Wow, a fork! That’s exciting. Which way do you want to check first?”

He had to be kidding. “‘Which way’?” she repeated, snatching the flashlight from him and angling it so they could see each other’s faces. “How about we don’t go wandering into a goddamn maze and get lost with -- oh, let me check --” She pulled her cellphone out of her damp, grimy pocket and waved it around above her head. “-- yep, no signal? Instead let’s just assume there’s nothing living here, because we’ve been walking for almost half an hour and seen literally zero signs of life, and go back to the real world, with sunshine and fresh air and a hundred percent less bat shit. Which fucking way, David? The only way that definitely won’t get us killed: the way back!”

He grinned, shaking his head; normally she thought he had a nice smile, but right then it made her skin crawl. “Now, Gwen, I don’t think you’re really embracing the Camp Campbell spirit of adventure.” He took her wrist and gently tugged her toward the fork. “How about we go left and --”

“Goddamn it, David!” She yanked her hand back, stepping out of his reach. “You’re not even listening toooaaaagh!”

The cave floor had firmed up as they walked, the mud replaced with uneven stone and stagnant pools they had to step or even jump over, and as she moved away she stepped into one of these pools, her foot gliding for half a second on the slimy edge before plunging into the water. The pool was surprisingly deep, freezing groundwater closing in up to her hip -- until she toppled over and skidded several inches down, her entire right side scraping against the rocky wall of the pool. At its deepest point the pool was too narrow for both feet, so Gwen found herself half-crouching in icy black water up to her chest, one leg touching the bottom and the other bent and braced against the wall like a flamingo; her arms were still above the water, holding onto the edge for dear life, and the splash from her fall had soaked her hair, several strands of which had escaped her ponytail and were dangling dripping in front of her face.

For a moment the only sound was her ragged breathing. Then she looked up at David, who was watching her in frozen shock, and jiggled her nearest arm as well as she could without losing her precarious balance. “A hand?”

“Oh!” He hurried over and took both her arms, hauling her out of the water like a ragdoll -- which would’ve been impressive if he hadn’t accidentally dragged her against the wall of the pool pulling her up. When she looked down, the front of her clothes were black with stringy slime. “Are you all right?”

“Peachy,” she snapped, twisting to see how badly she’d hurt herself. The entire outside of her leg was covered in slime as well, and when she wiped it away pain lanced through her like her fingertips were made of sparks. She recovered the flashlight from where it’d landed a few feet away and shone it on herself; her calf was mostly protected by her boots (which were basically ruined now), but from the knee up, her outer thigh was marked by a thick red streak of what looked like road rash, scraped bloody and raw. It stung when she extended or bent her knee, but she’d be able to walk. “Let’s just get the hell out of here and you can board this cave up while I take a nice long shower.”

He frowned. “What? But we haven’t finished exploring yet!”

She opened and shut her mouth a few times, but was struck speechless. “Come again?” she managed after a moment, her voice raspy from disbelief and exhaustion.

David gestured toward the left-hand fork. “What if I went this way and you --”

“Go back to camp? Because that’s the only thing I’m doing right now.” She turned to stomp back the way they came -- and promptly tripped over one of the buckles of her boots, which had come undone sometime between falling in the pool and being pulled out of it; she windmilled her arms desperately, but only served to smack her knuckles against the narrow cave walls before landing face-first on the ground.

She’d barely pushed herself to her knees when David chuckled. “Wow, Gwen, it really hasn’t been your lucky day, has it?”

“That’s IT!” She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the pain singing down her thigh and blooming, deep and throbbing, where her cheekbone had smacked against the floor. She whirled on him, feeling a vindictive sense of satisfaction as his eyes widened and he took a step back. “We are getting the fuck out of here before anything else goes wrong. No, no -- you know what?” she snapped, cutting him off as he opened his mouth to argue, “Shut the goddamn hell up, David, you’re the entire reason we’re in this stupid mess, so I hope you’ve enjoyed reliving your childhood and this stupid quarter-life crisis is completely fucking out of your system, because today is over, okay?! I’m bleeding, and cold, and wet, and I think I touched a bat earlier and any one of those should’ve been enough for us to go back because a good friend wouldn’t have been so self-absorbed to keep dragging their supposed C-B-F-L --” (she clapped for each letter, raising her voice to speak over the echoes each slap of her wet palms made bounce off the walls) “-- deeper into the pits of hell! But you didn’t notice, because you didn’t care, because you were having too damn good a time pretending to be six years old again -- but you know what? You’re a fucking adult, and you wouldn’t know how to be responsible if your fucking LIFE depended on it --”

“Gwen --” he began, eyes darting around with alarm, but she ignored him. Her throat was starting to hurt from yelling, but it felt good, too, the kind of pleasurable burn that came from a killer workout, and goddamn if her voice didn’t deserve a workout right now.

“You are the WORST camp counselor I’ve EVER seen, and the WORST friend I’ve EVER HAD, and I am SO! DONE! Dealing with your complete and utter -- childish -- stupid -- selfish -- BULLSHIT!”

The last word came out as a scream, possibly the loudest she’d ever given, tearing her vocal cords bloody and making her ears ring. As the sound ricocheted around the cave, the walls seeming to shake and groan with the force of it, she slumped her shoulders and dropped her chin, taking a full breath for the first time since before she fell in the water.

And it was a good thing she took that breath, because she had exactly one second before David lunged forward, grabbing her hand with a shout and yanking her toward him.

“Gwen!”

There was a massive crack, and then the sky fell down around them.

---

For a few minutes all she could do was curl up on the ground and cough, the air so thick with dust it felt like a pillow filled with ashes pressed against her face. When it had settled enough that she could inhale without choking, she pushed herself to her knees, ignoring the way both of them shrieked in pain from her half-dozen various falls, and tried to look around.

“David?” she said, rubbing dust out of her eyelashes and tearing up from the sting. The flashlight had gone out, and she was in complete darkness. “David?!”

“Over here.” His voice came from her left, faint and trembling. “The flashlight isn’t working.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.” She crawled over in his direction, sucking in pained breaths with each movement. “Are you okay?”

There was a slight rustling, very close. “I think I dinged my wrist a little bit,” he said, a weak echo of his usual brightness but still a valiant effort, “but otherwise no worse for the wear!”

Her hand hit canvas, and after a few seconds of sightless probing she realized it was his backpack. “Is there a spare flashlight in here?” she asked, already fumbling with the zipper.

“Front pocket. No -- that’s my front. When I’m wearing it. It’s actually the back pocket.”

Eventually she found it, and the sudden brilliance was almost painful. The first thing the light fell on was their path back.

Or more specifically, not their path back. “Oh my god.”

The way they’d come was completely caved in.

She flicked her light all over the wall of boulders, trying to see a crack that might be a way out, but there was nothing. “Oh no, oh god -- no, no, no . . .”

“Gwen,” David said softly.

She tossed the flashlight to the ground and drew her knees to her chest, putting her head between them and trying to breathe. “Oh my god, we’re gonna die here. We’re trapped and we’re gonna die and it’s my fault, I always thought I’d kill myself but never on accident -- ”

“Gwen,” he snapped, louder and stern like she was a disobedient camper. “That’s not funny.”

She lifted her head to stare at him incredulously, because of course it wasn’t funny, nothing was funny because they were dying. But her eyes landed on his wrist, cradled against his chest with his other arm. It was purplish-brown almost all the way down to his elbow, and starting to swell badly enough that he couldn’t bend it. “Oh my god, David!”

“It’s fine,” he said defensively, pulling it closer and then letting out a little shriek of pain. “I landed on it funny, that’s all.”

“We’ve gotta wrap that up.” She grabbed the flashlight and dug through their backpack until she found the cookie tin, popping it open with one hand and reaching for his wrist with the other. “Here, give me --”

“No, I’m --” He tried to wriggle away, but he was sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him so his mobility was limited.

She grabbed his good arm and scooted closer, balancing the first aid tin on his lap. “Stop being stupid and hold this.”

He acquiesced with a huff, turning his face away as she wrapped the sprain. The only splints they had were for fingers, but she taped a few together and declared it good enough, at least for starving to death in a cave. “I wish we had some ice,” she said once it was done, popping out a couple painkillers and holding them out to him. “Can you swallow these dry?”

“There’s water in the middle pocket,” he said, still not looking at her, and she handed him the water bottle and the pills. After an uncomfortable moment of silence he added, “How’s your leg?”

She shrugged, suddenly tired. “Does it matter?” She pulled out her phone to check again for a signal, but apparently it’d had just as bad a day as her because it was completely dead. Hopefully David would let her look up how to undo water, mud, and impact damage on his phone when they got back to camp. Slumping down next to him with a sigh, she tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and prepared for the sweet release of death.

The sweet release of death was interrupted by a loud metal clattering, and she opened her eyes to see David scooching on his knees to her other side, then trying to pry open the first aid kit one-handed.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to be a good friend,” he muttered, jumping as the lid suddenly popped open. “Lay down on your side, please.”

Gwen lowered herself to the ground, shivering as the cold stone pressed her wet clothes against her skin. A moment later there was a soft thump as he draped a sweatshirt over her like a blanket. “Thanks.” His only response was a quiet huff, the fingers of his good hand deftly cleaning her wounds, and all of the anger building up that day collapsed in on itself. “I’m sorry I said all that stuff.”

He shrugged, and she couldn’t tell if he was deliberately avoiding eye contact or if he was just intently focused on patching her up. (It was more her area of expertise, thanks to half a nursing degree she’d acquired in 2014. Plus he only had 50% of his usual hands.) “Why? You meant it.”

“Hey, take the apology and don’t be a brat about it.” Which was probably the worst way to conclude an apology, but she figured she deserved extra leeway on the grounds that she was buried alive.

Sighing, he sat back on his heels and snagged the gauze. “You’re right, Gwen,” he said, winding it around her knee; she held out her hand and let him position it so he could continue wrapping up her leg. “I should’ve had us turn back sooner. I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good friend to you today.”

“I’m used to it.” He flinched and she realized how that sounded. “I mean, you’re really passionate about stuff. That’s a good thing.”

“And it always ends so well for everyone,” he replied with uncharacteristic sarcasm, gesturing to their surroundings.

She rolled her eyes and waited as he finished, sitting back up. “For what it’s worth,” she said, feeling stupid even as the words left her mouth, “I wouldn’t pick anyone else to die in a cave with.”

David frowned. “Are you saying you want me to die?”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, I changed my mind. I wanna trade you out for David Boreanaz.”

“You want to spend your last hours on earth being rejected by the guy from Buffy?”

That startled her into laughing, and she pawed at the air with a meow. “Does imminent death always make you this catty?”

“Only when my wrist hurts,” he muttered, digging through the backpack, but a little smile played at the corner of his lips.

Gwen figured if there was any time for an olive branch, this was it. “How about this: if I ever had to spend my last hours being rejected by a guy named David while we died together in a cave, I’m glad it’s you.” It seemed to take him a second to parse that sentence, but she chose to blame it on him being delirious from pain and not because she worded it badly. (She was great at wording things, and there were tens of readers on Ao3 to prove it.)

“What makes you think I’d reject you?”

He said it quickly, absently, and in the moment it took her to absorb what he said he seemed to hear it himself, looking up at her with something like horror in his expression.

“That -- I didn’t -- !”

She tried to muster up an appropriate response and came up short. “Huh?”

“I don’t know why I said that,” he said quickly, holding up his hands like she was brandishing a weapon at him. “It was a joke, I’m sorry.”

“Those two sentences don’t work together.”

“Say, did you know we have three different kinds of granola bars?” He pulled them out of the backpack and waved them like a magic trick. “Which flavor is your favorite?”

There was no way she was letting him get away with that, especially when her waterlogged brain was still struggling to connect the dots. “Were you saying you want me to hit on you?”

“I think I like peanut butter best, but it sure does make you thirsty so it’s not good unless you have something to drink with it!”

“David.” She leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze (and nearly getting hit in the nose with a granola bar as he inelegantly threw it toward her).

“I do enjoy mixed berry, though . . .”

She didn’t know what to do, so she relied on a trope all her favorite romances used and pulled him into a kiss. He squeaked against her mouth, going still and unyielding, but after a moment his mouth softened against hers -- not really kissing her back, but enough of a relaxation to send a shiver through her.

When she pulled back he was staring at her with big eyes, deathly pale and streaked with dust and sweat. (And really, she should’ve known she was screwed every single time he looked like total shit and she was still attracted to him.) “W-hy did you do that?” he asked, his voice wobbling like he was going to cry.

She shrugged, trying not to look like her heart had just dropped into her stomach from that heartbreaking little wobble. “Maybe because I felt like seizing the day, if this is gonna be one of the last ones I get,” she said as lightly as possible. “Or maybe it’s because I’ve wanted to do that for longer than I realized and finally got the balls to go for it.”

(It was the second one, but she didn’t wanna make it too easy for him.)

He swallowed hard, looking down at the ground before hesitatingly, flinchingly meeting her eyes. “But you were so mad at me,” he said, then gestured toward her leg with his good hand. “And I’m the reason you’re hurt. Why would you want . . .”

“I got you back,” Gwen replied. “And then some, so I think we’re pretty even.” He just stared at her, doubt etched into every line of his face, and she wanted to kiss him so she did. And this time he sighed, a little dreamy one she’d never heard before instead of his usual “I’m irritated but trying very hard not to show it” sigh, and forgiving him was instantly, impossibly easy. “But seriously,” she said, pulling away just enough to talk, “you’re gonna have to do some serious groveling if we get out of this alive.”

David’s smile caught the light, warm and sparkling like his eyes. “I can do that!”

“You were a dick today.”

He pressed his lips together, looking torn between smiling and giving her a disapproving frown. “I wasn’t as considerate as I should’ve been.”

“Close enough.” She started to stand up -- might as well make an effort to survive; her monkey ancestors were probably watching her and yelling -- but he put his hand on her arm.

“I really am sorry, Gwen.” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it absently as he looked away from her. “I don’t want to be that kind of person. And I don’t want you to have to spend time with that kind of person. So I’ll do my best to be more . . . thoughtful. And observant. Of your needs.”

Less of a dick, you mean. He didn’t quite stick the landing, but it was still one of the sweetest things anyone had ever said to her -- in no small part because she could count on one hand the number of times David had willingly admitted being wrong about something. “I’ll hold you to it,” she said, covering his fingers with her own. “Every time you’re a dick I won’t kiss you, how’s that sound?”

“And when I’m not . . . um, so unpleasant to be around?”

There was only one way to answer that, so she did. “How do you feel about cave sex?” she asked as she broke the kiss, enjoying the way he jumped like she’d poked him with a cattle prod. “Because if my last time is faking an orgasm in the bathroom of a Chipotle -- that’s depressing even for me.”

David climbed to his feet, holding out his hand to help her up. “It’s not going to be,” he said, the sudden bright determination in his voice jarring in their little rock prison. Just as she was trying to figure out how she felt about having injured cave sex with Camp Counselor David at his most camp-counselor-est (surprisingly okay with it), he added, “We’re getting out of here.”

---

It took three hours to find another way out of the cave, according to David’s phone. That was too damn long for Gwen and her abused legs, but he cheerfully reminded her how fortunate they were not to have to stay in there overnight, as well as to have emerged in a part of the forest he recognized, and that things could’ve been much worse if they’d taken the right fork instead of the left.

(He was very proud of himself for having picked the correct path on the first try. He insisted it had to do with wind currents and the slope of the cave floor, but she thought it was just a lucky guess.)

“Thank god,” Gwen said as they approached the shore of Lake Lilac. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see a pile of crappy boards in my entire life.”

David was already heading down the beach when he realized she wasn’t beside him and turned back. “What’re you doing?” he asked, watching her bend down and loop the toolbelt around her waist.

“You go ahead,” she replied, grunting as she hoisted a board across the mouth of the cave. “I plan on never coming back here for the rest of my life, and there’s no way in hell I’m risking any of our brats getting stuck in the hell-cave.”

He returned anyway, and there wasn’t much he could do with only one arm but he helped her as best as he could. And those quiet minutes of everyday, boring camp-counselor duties convinced Gwen that this -- whatever this was -- it was worth trying to make work.

“You do know we’ll have to block off the other entrance, right?”

She groaned. “Die in a fire, David.” He laughed as she grabbed the remaining boards and followed him to where they’d escaped the cave, and he made her laugh as she nailed the boards in place, and as they walked back to camp he took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together, and it was nicer than anything Gwen could remember in a while.

[exhaustedfander]

For one shot requests, could you do some touch starved Moceit fluff with romantic confessions? 🥺👉👈

Some touch starved moceit with a side of love confessions coming right up! (Also ignore the fact that I accidently posted the HTML of this first, oops)

Word Count: 2,782

Summary: Janus is severely touch-starved and yearning for Patton, yet every time they so much as brush against each other he's near a point of panic.

a03 link

'Cause Every Time We Touch, I Get This Feeling

Janus doesn’t have a problem. To say as much would be incredibly dramatic, and he is most certainly never one to give into drama. Janus isn’t struggling with anything, he’s merely… frustrated.

This whole not problem is something he doesn’t entirely know the cause of. It isn’t as though Janus hasn’t had the opportunity to partake in touch before. Having lived with Remus for years, it was not uncommon for him to be touched frequently. But more often than not, slimily tentacles sliding around his neck or Remus’s long, unkempt nails on his arm were not sensations he sought out. Even when Virgil had still been in their ranks, he hadn’t been the most touchy-feely person, so Janus wasn’t too terribly used to it.

And that’s fine! Totally, and completely fine! Janus doesn’t need anyone to touch him, he’s perfectly fine with being alone for the rest of his existence.

Except… there’s been a change of arrangements, lately. Janus hadn’t had the highest hopes going into his attempt at acceptance, and yet, somehow, he’d managed to secure a spot at the table. This hadn’t been without consequence, considering how bruised Roman’s ego had been for some time and Virgil’s continued distaste for him as well as Logan’s unspoken anger for being impersonated twice now. Sure, things were getting better with them, but that didn’t distract from the fact that Thomas is listening to him! After years of being repressed, ages of being pushed to the wayside, and seen as the villain, Janus’s opinions are being taken into account! He should be ecstatic, over the moon, jumping for joy!

He isn’t. Not with this… minimal distraction that’s been taking up the whole of his attention lately. This distraction wears round glasses and a cardigan around his shoulders. This distraction fashions friendship bracelets and has a laugh bright, and clear and a sound Janus never recalled adoring so much. This distraction is very touchy-feely person and that is proving to be quite the difficulty.

To say that Patton and Janus haven’t been on good terms in the past would be quite the understatement. As far as Janus was concerned up until very recently, he and Patton were enemies, both with a common goal of Thomas’s well-being while simultaneously working against one another. Patton’s vendetta against lying was something that, understandably, got in Janus’s way. For years, he’d considered his opposition to Patton obligation, as well as something set in stone. Patton was a nuisance in the way of his goals, and in an extension, Thomas’s goal, therefore a friendly relationship with him was simply an impossibility.

An apology from Thomas was one thing, reluctant acceptance from Virgil, Roman, and Logan was another, but what Patton had offered him – well, that just went against everything Janus thought he knew about Patton.

Janus isn't expecting Patton to apologize for all that he’d put him through, he doesn't think that Patton would feel the need to say how sincerely sorry he is for seeing him as nothing more than a dirty rotten liar. And he certainly isn’t expecting it when Patton begins to shed a tear when their alone and he’s apologizing, choking up and expressing how terrible he feels for how he’s acted.

Patton is morality, a being of goodness, of pure-hearted intentions and softness, but he is not without flaws. That’s what he’s expected himself to be, Janus realizes in that moment of tear-filled confessions and near groveling for forgiveness, all this time Patton has thought that him making a mistake of any kind is an error most foul. And despite everything that he thinks he might say, Janus expresses that it’s okay, that he understands what Patton’s been trying to do, that they’ll be able to find a middle-ground. He tells him that no one else is putting those expectations on him, that it’s far too heavy of a burden to carry.

Janus has never thought he’d be in such an intimate, strange position with Patton, and yet here he is. The issue fully rears its head when Patton throws his arms around him and Janus forgets how to breathe. It’s definitely not a problem, that would be ridiculous, it merely takes Janus aback. Very aback, to a point where he nearly dissolves into a puddle in Patton’s arms before he jerks away, leaving the room without much of an explanation.

This isn’t a problem. Why in the world would something as simple as a hug be a problem? It isn’t, Janus decides, and he strives to cast the interaction out of his mind. Unfortunately, he’s not been doing a very good job of it.

The embrace took Janus by surprise, that’s all. It’s been quite a long time since he’s had a proper hug and he’s just having a little trouble processing, nothing to worry about. At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

He doesn’t get it; why did Patton’s arms around him feel so good? So insanely, overwhelmingly good? Why did the embrace punch the air out of his lungs? For so long, Janus considered his and Patton’s relationship one of opposition and opposition alone… but now… now he doesn’t know.

Okay… fine, maybe this is a little bit of a problem. Even so, surely, it’s a problem he’ll be able to manage. How much strife could such a kind, seemingly harmless person like Patton cause?

As it turns out, quite a bit. Patton isn’t harmless, not at all. He can do so much damage with the slightest graze of fingers, can topple empires as they brush against each other in the hall, can set a fire in Janus’s soul with even the simplest forms of affection. Janus doesn’t know how he’s doing it, but every time Patton so much as touches him, he loses himself a little bit more.

Maybe it’s been longer than Janus realizes since he’s had a decent hug, maybe it’s the fact that Patton gives affection so freely, so openly. Maybe it’s both of those things, but it’s tearing him up inside like so few things can. Janus looked at Patton with disdain but now he can’t help but be filled with so much warmth every time he’s near, let alone when he’s touching him.

Even after their reconciliation, Janus hadn’t been expecting everything to change between them, but now it is, and he’s lost in an abyss of feelings and sensations he doesn’t know how to make sense of. Every time Patton shoots him a dazzling smile Janus is half-convinced, he’ll be blinded, and when a hand finds its way to his shoulder, he has to excuse himself and leave the room.

Surely, Patton knows something’s the matter. He’d be a fool not to realize the way that Janus has been keeping his distance, wary and afraid. Janus has always taken good care of himself; being an ambassador of self-care, it would be strange if he didn't. But lately, he’s been holding himself up in his room, hiding from the others, fearing what they might think if they realized how undone he becomes every time Patton is near. Perhaps the already see it, the glint of fear in his eyes, the tremor to his movements if Patton edges too close. And even though he hasn’t said anything, he’s noticed Patton keeping his distance, too, in the rare moments that they’re in the same room. He’s hesitating, and Janus doesn’t know how to tell him that isn’t what he wants, either.

But what does he want?

Janus’s jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a knock at his door. Well, shit.

“Janus? Kiddo?” Janus flinches at the sound of the voice. “Are you okay? You didn’t come down for dinner.”

“I’m fine,” Janus lies, exceptionally poorly for the supposed “Lord of the lies”, “I’ll get something to eat later.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the door and for a moment, Janus wonders if he’s left him before Patton speaks up again, concern etched into his tone.

“I brought you a plate,” he says, “Could I come inside and bring it to you?” Janus’s instinct is to respond with a stern “no,” but doing so is liable to make things all the worse. Worrying his bottom lip, Janus lets out a sigh.

“Sure.” The doorknob turns slowly, revealing a rather anxious looking Patton holding a plate of pasta.

“Thank you, Patton,” Janus says as graciously as he can manage as the food is handed to him, “This wasn’t thoughtful of you at all.” Janus knows that such a simple lie might’ve given Patton the wrong impression not long ago, and yet here he is, smiling understandingly and so damn kind.

“Would you mind if I sit with you for a while?” Patton asks, trying and failing to hide the hesitation in his voice. It makes sense; Janus has been so distant lately, and after Patton’s been offering his friendship so carefully, too.

That’s part of the problem, Janus thinks to himself, realization finally sinking in. Patton had never thought friendship with the light side would be possible, but now he wants more than that. More than he ever thought he could desire, especially from the likes of morality. He wants far more than he’ll be given.

Patton’s asked to sit with him, and once again, Janus wants to tell him to leave, but he just can’t bear it. Not with those wide, worried eyes. He can’t wallow in self-pity, not when Patton’s been doing everything he can to be welcoming and warm.

“No,” Janus says, hoping foolishly that he doesn’t sound as much of a mess as he feels, “I suppose not.”

Patton looks relieved at the response and sits beside Janus on the bed. The silence that blankets them hangs thick and uncomfortable. Janus eats his food, knowing Patton’s eyes continue to land on him before settling back on the wall. When he’s finished, he sets the plate aside and thanks Patton again for being so thoughtful.

He thinks, perhaps, that will be the extent of the interaction. Patton was worried that he hadn’t eaten a decent meal and made sure he did so, that’s all. But he lingers, still sitting beside him, eyes darting around, and Janus’s heart is suffering terrible abuse in his presence.

“Jan –,” he begins, reaching a tentative hand out and settling it on Janus’s shoulder. Janus flinches as though Patton’s caress burns, the most violent of his reactions thus far. Patton retracts his hand quickly, wringing his hands as he scoots further away, giving Janus a good deal of distance.

“I’m sorry,” Patton says, softly and apologetically, “I shouldn’t of… I mean, I know you don’t like it when I touch you. I’m sorry… I just wasn’t thinking.” Janus squeezes his eyes shut, warmth blooming where Patton’s fingers grazed his shoulder. It’s too much to handle, too intense, too good.

“I… I do like it,” Janus rasps out, despite his better judgment. His eyes aren’t open to see the look of surprise that spreads across Patton’s face.

“What? But… you’ve been so distant lately. I get it…” Patton laughs, but there’s no humor to the sound, “We haven’t always been on the best of terms. A lot of that’s my fault. But then, it felt like things were changing between us. And I liked it,” Patton says, before correcting himself, “I still like it. You’ve just… been pushing away, lately. And I didn’t know how to ask, I mean – did I do something wrong?”

There’s so much fear behind the question, a query that’s clearly been building up for some time now. Janus dares to peel open his eyes, only to be greeted with the heart-wrenching sight of Patton looking so worried for him, so scared that he’s messed up yet again.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Janus manages to get the words out, though not without a fight, “I – I apologize, that I’ve made you feel as though you have any reason to think you’ve upset me.” Janus sucks in a breath, wondering when he ever got to be so damned sentimental, “I admit, I have been distant. It’s just…”

“What is it?” Patton asks, compassion dripping into every word. Janus hadn’t known what he’d been missing all those years without Patton, without so much unabashed kindness and love.

“I’m not used to… being touched, I suppose,” Janus admits, ducking his head against his shoulder in embarrassment. It’s been such a long time since Janus has felt such heightened levels of negative emotions and he’s not a fan at all.

“Oh,” Patton says, hesitantly, “I’m sorry, should I – have I been overwhelming you?”

“I…” Janus falters, still not daring to face Patton, “I’m not used to it. But it’s… pleasant.” Patton pauses before realization dawns.

“Oh. Oh, sweetie, how long has it been since you’ve had a proper hug?”

Patton calling him something as soft as “sweetie” of all things makes his chest ache. In all of their recent embraces, Janus has always pulled away after a second or two, fearing what might happen if he just let’s go. But Patton’s asking, so genuinely, and Janus is too helpless not to give in.

“I… I don’t know,” he says softly.

“Would it be okay if I hugged you now?”

Janus looks down at the comforter, nodding slowly.

“Yes… I think that would be okay.”

As gently as possible, Patton puts his arms around him. Janus stiffens, his breath halting, but Patton’s holding him lose enough that it wouldn’t be hard to pull away. After a few moments, Janus realizes he couldn’t pull back if he wanted to. He throws his arms around the moral side, burying his face in his neck. He can feel himself beginning to tremble.

“Jan? Honey, is this okay?”

“Yesss,” the hiss slips past before he has time to correct it, “Please, hold me a little longer?” Janus despises the desperation that seeps into his tone. He never thought he’d stoop so low.

“Of course,” Patton says softly, “I won’t let you go. I promise."

Janus clings fervently to Patton, any final hesitations leaving him. He didn’t know being held could feel so good, but now he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to let go. Patton begins to rub circles into Janus’s back, slow and even. Bit by bit, the tension that Janus has been holding inside of himself these past weeks disperses.

“Janus?” Janus hums in lieu of a real response. “Can you look at me for a second?” As much as he despises the idea of leaving the comfort of Patton’s arms for even a moment, he does so, pulling away so that their eyes meet.

“I… I think there’s something I should tell you,” Patton says.

“What is it?” Janus asks, feeling his heart clench in his chest. Patton reaches for his hand, and even through the glove, the touch sends electricity running through him.

“I –,” Patton hesitates before taking a deep breath and biting the bullet, “I like you. I like you a whole heck of a lot, actually. And I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable – and I understand completely if you don’t feel the same way. I just thought you should know.” Patton rushes the confession out.

Janus hadn’t been expecting this, not at all. But it’s happening, every time Patton touches him Janus feels like a fire’s been lit in his heart and now Patton’s telling him that he has feelings for him. Janus has been torturing himself, keeping space between them in the fear that Janus might melt into his embrace and it was for nothing. Janus doesn’t know if he should be irritated with himself or relieved, so he settles for both.

“I like you too, Pat,” Janus says, the confession raw and unbearably honest, “M-more than I’ve been willing to admit.”

Janus feels himself beginning to shudder again as Patton lets go of his hand, only to cup his face with both hands, his thumb tracing lightly over Janus’s scales.

“Can I kiss you?” Patton asks, so tenderly Janus is half-convinced he’s going to lose consciousness from how overstimulated he is.

Even so, he nods, smiling as Patton’s lips meet his. Patton keeps a steady hold on his face as Janus's hands settle on Patton’s hips. It’s so much, it’s intense and it’s nothing Janus is used to but that doesn’t distract from the fact that it’s incredible. Patton’s lips against his, his hands cupping his face. Each caress stirs something in him, each kiss sets his heart aflame, a fire he hopes never dies.

Janus rides the wave of intense emotions, growing to accept every touch, longing for it rather than shrinking away.

=+=

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Silver for Monsters... (Geralt x fem!Witcher, Part 1.)

Description: The Butcher of Blaviken has a long and famous past, thanks to his friend Jaskier. Yet, neither of those dies easily and it still lurks behind Geralt like a shadow after all those years. History, neither unfriendly relationships, doesn't die easily.

Part summary: A lonely witchress in the woods can mean only one thing - a monster is lurking through the woods and a contract has been pinned up on a local village's board.

Warnings: A bit of gore, magic, Witchress, a werewolf being a bich, Sigimund Dijkstra appeareaing in a mention (if you do not know who Dijkstra is, look him up, he honestly is one of my fav Witcher game characters).

A/N: This one is purely based on my wish to see at least one female witcher, but knowing that the trial of grass doesn't allow that. Because boy? They would tear Geralt’s ass in half.

Word count: 4.4 K

Tagging: (tell me and I will add you :)) @osgon-azure​ @davnwillcome​

Master list: H E R E

Many of you know me. You’ve seen my face, heard my name, or my tales - maybe you even threw your rotten vegetables at me for what I know. It doesn’t matter to me. Such details aren't important in my stories. But no matter how you might hate me - the poet, the bard, the most beautiful man you'd ever seen -, you love my tales.

Indeed, my name is Julian Alfred Pankratz. But when you'd meet me, I would introduce myself as Jaskier or Dandelion. And my most famous tales are going hand in hand with my friend, the legend, Geralt of Rivia. He is the man coming from Kaedwen, the coldest Northern Kingdom, born and raised at Kaer Morhen, the notorious School of the Wolf. And I have already written tales, ballads, and books about him.

You heard many stories and legends about this man - about the romance of his with the mightiest sorceress Yennefer of Vengenberg, the story of how he was bound to the Cintran princess Cirilla by destiny, about how he had outwitted the Wild Hunt itself. Yet I have one more for you. Sit down, have a pint of ale or a cup of wine, and hear my telling of how... Not one, but two witchers traveled day and night to reach the Redenian mountains and how they discovered a horrifying monster there. But have in mind that one of them was a woman.

Our story begins on one stormy night in the Mire West amidst the rampage of the Nightmare...

The place around you was completely dark and lifeless, only sounds of wind howling and grass dancing in it along with heavy rain could be heard. The moon just started slowly rising in the sky, but it was too cloudy up there. That could be a slight problem in your perfect plan. How were you supposed to lure a werewolf out of its lair if there won't be a full moon? These bitches came out of the lair only under those specific circumstances - moon shining on the ground, nonstop.

The lamb meat filled with cursed oil was neatly prepared in the middle of a road and your silver sword was ready as well, laying on your thighs as you were meditating to pass the time somehow - you let the potions in your vascular system starting to work, making an extremely dangerous weapon out of your very own body. You used Cat potion, so your eyes could perfectly see in the night and a Blizzard potion, shorting the time of reactions and sharpening reflexes to the monster's attacks.

A low chuckle came out of your lips. Meditations were never your strength - Vesemir was always bitching you down for whispering to the others while they sat on their knees, and tried to completely leave their body with their minds. You learned how to pretend to meditate, just to shut Vesemir up, but you accomplished the state only a few times. More than meditating, you were in a light sleep while you still could bring your body to sit at least a bit straight.

You had the suspicion that Vesemir knew that the whole time, but he never said anything since you at least shut up and didn't disturb the other kids who were brought to the School of the Wolf in Kaedwen to become witchers and witchresses.

The memories you had bonding to that place weren't all happy, but not all of them were bad. There was a lot of pain you had to endure, yes, but you had some fun in the process. And you still had a witcher family you could always count on - your best pal Lambert and a grumpy brother Eskel, there was Leo, your baby boy, and Vesemir, who was something like your father. There was Coën too, but unfortunately, he was far gone. And then, there was... Well... There was also him.

The greatest fucker... You meant to say the greatest of your kind - the legendary White Wolf, a man called Geralt of Rivia. It wasn't that you exactly hated him, no, you could count on him and his help when you met him on the road just as he could count on you, but you two never really got along in the first place. You never gave him a chance to start a friendship. And to say the least, he was outshining all of you, always getting the best contracts and money. And you weren't even talking about the fame he got in the process.

On the bright side, Geralt was a source of your motivation to become better and better - you both passed the trail of grasses, finishing it in better shape than all of the other kids that were trained on Kaer Morhen. You were already special - while three males out of ten survived, only one female out of fifty survived the trial. But that just wasn't enough of you, was it? You had better reflexes, reactions, senses, and you could cast the signs better than the other two girls who passed the trial. Even though that, it was too risky to send you on additional trials and Vesemir told you a million times.

For an unknown reason, there was a high rivalry between you and Geralt since the day you met for the first time. And when you heard that he's going to endure some more experiments, you demanded them as well, no matter the costs. You didn't care if it costs you your life, you wanted to be the best.

Vesemir and Lambert tried to change your mind for months, but you weren't planning on letting Geralt win the game. You went through another five mutations under the supervision of druids residing in Kaer Morhen, the fourth almost killing you in the process.

For the first time during a trial, you screamed in pain the whole time as you felt the serums and potions crawling through your skin and veins. When you got up, your skin tone almost matched alabaster, melanin almost completely disappearing out of your body, your hair was completely white and your eyes were no longer only golden - they were glowing. When Geralt walked out of the second chamber, he looked the same. But he has done something you would never expect - he asked you about your well-being and if you want to stop the trials. But you just chuckled and left him in the hall.

Lambert was enough of a friend to you. He was quite a normal witcher with a good sense of humor. You could drink and laugh evenings away with your witcher brother and never be bothered with thoughts about the incoming morning. He saved your life many times before and you knew, that the last time wasn't exactly the last. To repay him, you saved his ass from the revenge of former lust subjects, pretending to be his girlfriend and being extremely mad at him.

With Eskel, you had a more reserved relationship, since he was more of a reserved person - he didn't exactly make friendships, he was just a person you could count on any time you needed to. But you got along at the end of the day.

A sharp howling threw you out of your thoughts about your witcher brothers. Both your eyelids flew open, showing the golden, glowing eyes with a cat-like iris shape underneath. The werewolf was set to go on a hunt - and so were you. You opened up the last bottle with your teeth, drinking the potion in one swing, making your blood hazardous for the monster.

After that, you slowly walked to the path where your trap was laid, finding the creature sniffing it. It was rather cautious with it, wanting to eat it, but not quite trusting it. Werewolves were huge beasts with fur, every one of them growing to the height of two meters and more after the transformation.

They might be looking skinny, but their strength was almost overshadowing yours for good. Hunting a werewolf all alone? What were you thinking? That was exactly what was happening since Geralt wielded the tiara of the best witcher in the world. Shitty contracts for a laughable amount of coin. But work was work - humans, monsters, animals, it didn't exactly mean anything to you. You came, did the job and left, always repeating and never breaking the circle. Although to stay true to the codex of Kaer Morhen, you never killed an innocent being - monster, neither a human. If they proved their innocence, you let them go, taking the money anyway.

But this werewolf, boy, wasn't he something different? This bitch was off the chains, suffocating, hunting, and eating alive at least thirteen girls just this year alone. And you couldn't wait to get your dirty little hands on its throat and chop his fucking head off. You hated motherfuckers. And he sure was one.

"This is a nice, cute attempt to poison me, witcher!" - The werewolf rose his head and looked around, showing you its ugly face, which was half-wolf and half-human. Its claws were strong, which could cause trouble as well - he could scratch you without hurting himself, not tasting your blood. God damn it. - "But I ain't no idiot! I know ya poisoned it! Come out! Face the mighty Nightmare of Mire West!"

So it was an intelligent one. That was a bonus point - you knew that murdering him will cause you way more enjoyment than killing a normal beast would. It was probably only a human when there wasn't a full moon, living in their small, stinky cage, all alone in the wilderness. But if the man changed into such a beast which was able to stalk and murder young gals in such gruesome ways, you knew that your sword was the right thing to put end to his ruling over Mire West.

"I like me an intelligent foe." - You growled in a cruel voice, adding a burst of short, dark laughter at the end. You confused the werewolf a bit - he wasn't able to track where you were at the moment. There was no visible movement in the bushes, your voice seemed to come out of a few different directions at one time and your footsteps didn't break a single branch on the ground, making you almost impossible to track based on sounds in the slowly ending heavy rain. - "Feels better when I slice their throats. They beg like little girls to let them live - but you know something about that, don't you? You enjoy murdering girls and letting them beg, don't you?"

The beast was moving its muzzle quickly as he tried to sniff you. The wet air made it almost impossible. The time was ticking too fast - soon, you knew that the air will clean up and starts to transmit your scent. This needed to be done quickly.

"Are ya a woman, witcher? Ye a witchress? I like women, did ya hear that?" - Werewolf tested the waters, seeing a bush next to his right move. He didn't know that it was an animal coming through here, thinking it was you hiding in the bushes. In the next moment, the monster roared with a raw, animalish growl as it attacked the bush. - “I like to snap their necks and taste their meat, I like their voices begging me to stop, the scent of their hair and the skin. Come here, to my claws, don't try to play with me.”

The werewolf then turned around, his completely darkened eyes were scanning the surroundings in search of you. He kneeled a bit, grunting like a pig as spit was dripping out of his mouth full of sharp teeth.

“You atone to all of those murders? You don't even try to clean your name, try to tell me that you are innocent? I might let you go.” - You knew that this fucker isn't innocent but you needed more time to look around the meadow, now seeing every small detail in it thanks to the Cat potion. You planned various attacks, different scenarios, trying to imagine him overpowering you. What would you do then?

“I know that ya been sniffing around Velen for a while now, crawling through sewers like a rat, looking at every shit I made. I know ya heard stories about the Nightmare of Mire West. Ya a witchress, ya know how to recognize a werewolf in comparison to a different monster.” - The werewolf laughed and crawled on all fours, bearing more similarity to a wolf than a human at the moment. His laughter was similar to a hyena.

Then you jumped out of your hideout and cut him with your sword smeared with a cursed oil. The werewolf wasn't expecting you, so you hit your spot, but not in the range you planned on. The beast roared, sounding like a swine, catching its leg as it watched the blood dripping from the cut.

“Look at ya!” - It laughed, its teeth showing again. Your eyes were jumping on various spots on its body - from its lower paws dugs into the muddy ground as he was charging for a jump. - “Ya look like a cat, ya hair white, ya smug arrogant. Come to me.”

You jumped at the same time the werewolf did, but you turned around and swung your sword towards it, hitting it into its ribs. Sword fights were always like a dancing lesson - male witchers preferred different fighting styles, sometimes heavier and more aggressive than you could ever archive. You could move quicker than them, yet your hits were lighter. You danced on the toes of your feet, the top of your sword carefully drawing eight again and again. Your hits were maybe lighter than male witchers’, but you were able to hit the spot more often with clean cuts.

“Ya can move, I need to say. A second cut on my body.” - The beast growled, suddenly spinning the other way, its claws hitting your stomach. The hit made you fall, he hit exactly the liver and stomach, which could hurt like hell. Yet it was not a hit that would stop a witchress.

You made a rollover your shoulders, stopping on your feet. While you stood up, the werewolf almost scratched your face. That was a no-no. Witchers and witchresses maybe were known for long, dark pink cuts and huge scars over their faces, but you knew that a pretty face always means a half of the deal sealed. Thanking all the Gods and angels out there, Blizzard made you able to get out of its way.

Again, you swung your sword to meet its stomach, but again, it jumped at you in a matter of seconds, aiming for your neck. Its claws tore apart your chainmail armor, cutting your skin. But you didn't move a single inch away, no, you held its arm with a firm grip, looking the beast in the eyes.

First, it didn't know why are you looking at it the way you did, pressing the arm on your stomach, letting the blood drip directly on it. Soon, it felt how the skin is burning as the acid was slowly decomposing it. It was looking you in your cat eyes and saw your lips slowly turning to a violent smile.

Next second, it pushed you away, whining like a little puppy, licking the acid off. But it didn't know that it will only make the matters worse.

“What now? Don't you want to taste my blood and meat? Don't you want to sniff me and hear me beg for my life? Are you backing off?” - You rolled the sword in your palm and prepared into the fighting position again. - “The fun has just started, you pussy.”

With a quick move, you made the gesture of Igni sign, sending fire its way, then throwing a Moon Dust bomb at it. The bomb blew up, springling small pieces of silver everywhere its range was. The werewolf was now screaming like a child - it was burned by the Igni sign, silver was burning its skin alive, he was cut - so the silver got into its vascular system and that was perfect torture in your opinion. It tried to run away into the safety of its cave, but it was just to try to lure you in - in the small space of a cavern could be its brutal strength fatal for you.

It was time to use the Aard sign. You were quick, almost violent with it, pushing the werewolf next to the cave entrance. It bumped its head onto a sharp rock, blood was dripping out of that bruise pretty quickly. That was a moment he might start to believe that you were there to truly kill him like a swine. Indeed, you were there for that.

When it laid on its back, it started howling at the moon - that was a tactic used by a werewolf when the things got out of their control. They tried to call for help from wolves living in the woods. But you only laughed as you walked to him, preparing for one last final blow, still holding the place on your stomach where it hit you.

"Ye going to die, Witchress, why is ya laughing?" - The beast growled out with visible and hearable problems, which made your smile bigger.

"Because I killed every pack in the radius of ten kilometers, you dumb shit. I sold the furs and meat for a fair coin, even got something to brew potions from. A valuable deal." - You laughed and swung your sword one last time - piercing its chest with it. After that, as you heard it choking on its blood and scream awfully, you sat next to it into the mud.

It was maybe just a short fight, but it made you cast two signs and to move at an incredibly fast pace. And the hit into your stomach was almost precise, hurting like a living fuck. The fight took its cost in the form of incredible tiredness. Also, the potions were still circling through your body, drawing energy out of it. You thanked Gods that you had the idea to track down and eliminate all the packs in the area. The contract could've turned out much differently than it did in the end.

You waited a while, the rain started to fall from the sky again, before cutting the beast's head off. You used an old dwarven axe for that since it was durable and almost unbreakable.

Not an hour after that, your camp was packed up and you were ready to leave the woods, riding horseback to the city again. The werewolf's head was pinned on your saddle to be seen by any bandit. You weren't in a mood for jokes, you didn't want to mess around with some lousy bandit just to be dirty from their blood.

You changed into a fresh shirt and made a hairstyle so tight that not even the smallest baby hair had the chance to fly in front of your face.

It was a while after three o'clock in the early morning when you knocked on the contractor's door - his name was Stjepan, male about thirty years old with a wife and two small daughters. That was the main reason why he wanted the werewolf dead. He was also a local innkeeper, so you at least had a hope that you will sleep in an actual bed instead of the woodland full of bugs and branches poking your ass and back.

"Who the hell is knocking my damn door at night?!" - You heard his angry yell just seconds before he opened up the door. You stood there, soaked from the rain, only in trousers and shirt, holding the head in the level of his eyes. He yelled and threw up just centimeters from your shoes, but you kept the straight face.

"Monster's dead. I want my money." - You growled, throwing the head in. You could hear the small girls and woman yelling, but you didn't care at all. Stjepan disappeared for a small moment, appearing after a while with a small sack of gold.

"Now leave and never come back, ya filthy creature. I can see the devil in ya eyes. I will pray for ya soul." - Stjepan hissed at you, trying to close the door, but your arm stopped it. Stjepan tried to shut it one more time, but your arm didn't even move out of the wood.

Geralt would've most likely just shook his head and leave the man - but you were a lot of things, pussy not being on your list.

Witchers, since they were males, had enhanced strength of the strongest human men. Since you were a woman, you were as strong as a really strong man - those who had almost two meters, one hundred kilograms, and muscles all over their body. When Stjepan realized that he isn't able to close the door, he opened it once again, your hand finally leaving it.

"This is less than we agreed on. I want my money." - You hissed back at the man, stepping into his house. Oh, you would give anything just to see him spraying holy water on the spot where you were standing.

"I don't have more, now fuck off!" - Stjepan yelled and tried to push you out of his door, but he was pushed back as soon as his palm touched your shoulder. Some wall pushed him back so hard, that he stumbled and fell right on his ass.

"Stjepan, Stjepan, Stjepan... Do you remember when your sweet little girls asked me why I have two swords?" - Your eyes slowly looked through the opened door, last drops of Cat potions still making your night vision sharp. These two girls were sitting on the bed and hugged their dolls extremely tight, both of them shaking, hoping you can't see them.

But you could. And Stjepan's wife was standing next to the stove, holding a pan as if it could do any harm to you. With your stare still on the children, you slowly walked through their lovely, little house.

"Ya told them that the long, elegant, silver one with the runes is for monsters." - Stjepan stuttered out and covered the door with his laying body so you would have a harder time getting to the room.

"And that the other one is for even worse monsters." - You told him and kneeled in front of him, tugging the sword from the leather strap on your back. The steel was making cold notice as you tugged it even slower. - "Monsters called humans. The worst of them all."

"Ye a witchress!" - Stjepan's wife yelled at you, raising the pan to her hip, ready to hit you. - "Ya meant to help and protect folk! Not to kill 'em!"

You would never hurt these children. They were just children, for fuck's sake - their life hasn't even started and anyone, let alone a monster hunter like, had the right to hurt them and end their life. No witcher nor witchress had the right to take an innocent person's life.

But you weren't playing clean games, oh boy, you weren't. When you had to be dirty, you planned to be dirty as hell. You needed to keep your face straight if you wanted to scare that dick off.

"You better give me my money or I swear that I will kidnap your children and make them witchresses. After all, that's what witchers do when people refuse to pay their debts." - You hissed, walking over Stjepan directly to the bed, almost dragging the two girls out.

Just seconds before you touched them, Stjepan threw another sack to your feet, crawling in front of his small girls. - "Now go! Leave the fucking town and never come back! Fuck off!"

You straightened up and looked at the two small girls which slowly disappeared in the darkness as Cat finally stopped working. Only after that, you finally left their room. - "Pleasure doing businesses with you, Stjepan." - You added with a sour, ironic tone and walked off into the night.

Well, your plan with sleeping at his inn didn't exactly work out. At least you had the money he promised, even if you had to scare a few little kids. You walked to your horse, gently smoothing its forehead. Well, the only thing you could do was to ride to another city so you could find another job.

Well, that was the plan, until a man came across you. He was dressed up in a long cloak, covered in the darkness, almost sneaking up on you. You chuckled from shoving the money into on me of the bags on the saddle, not looking at the person. They must've known that you know about them the whole time.

"I won't give you a single coin, don't even bother asking me." - Your mumbling could be heard in the cold, silent night.

"Oh, I don't need your money, witchress. I want to speak to ya." - The person said, putting an envelope into the saddle looking you in the eyes. First, you checked the person to see if they mean any harm - it was a short man, pretty underweight, his arms looked very weak. He couldn't attack you if his mind was bright - he would die after one of your blows. - "Not me, pretty lady, but a friend of mine. Told me to say hi once I find ye."

With that, the caped person turned on their heels and disappeared into the darkness again. You watched him quietly for a second before you couldn't see him - then you looked at the envelope and grinned when you recognized the seal. That old, ugly bastard, Sigi Reuven.

Or, as the others knew, Sigismund Dijkstra. One of the most dangerous spies on the whole Continent. And that old son of a bitch wanted to talk to you.

[embklitzke]

July 2020 Camp NaNoWriMo - The Magic Crystal Justice Squad (Chapter 1)

So this project that I'm doing for July 2020's Camp NaNoWriMo kind of snuck up on me.  I'd originally intended to start a re-draft of UNSETIC Files: Pawns for this go-around, but plans changed when lightning kind of struck my brain.

There's a meme floating around about magical girls who were supposed to be retired but have to pick it back up again when they're around 30--and have real lives, real jobs, responsibilities, etc. that would definitely be impacted by their side gigs saving the world.  When I first saw it, I laughed about it and wondered if it maybe wouldn't be a fun project to try out--someday.

Someday happens to be, quite unexpectedly, right now.

The Magic Crystal Justice Squad is something completely off-the-wall and very different for me, but definitely brings back fond memories of much younger years when I rushed home every damn day from school to watch Sailor Moon and the hours spent over the years watching Power Rangers and similar fare.  It also lets me stretch my writing muscles in some new and interesting ways, since it feels a lot more tongue-in-cheek than many of my other projects.  It's something fresh and new and has been fun so far.

We'll see how long that lasts.

Until then, enjoy joining me on this little bit of a ride.

One

Shots rang out and I pressed my back against the brick wall, sucking in a pair of ragged breaths.  Steady.  Steady.

Maybe if I told myself that I could still do this, I’d actually be able to.

God, everything hurt so much more at twenty-nine than it had at seventeen.

There’s something they don’t tell you when you sign up for this whole magical girl gig.  Of course, that assumes you’ve got the choice when the whole thing comes up—from the looks of things, most don’t, at least not when you read about them or watch them on TV.  I’ll tell you what: Sailor Moon it’s not, that’s for sure.  It’s not Magic Knight Rayearth or any of the others, either.  It’s not all sunshine and rainbows and personal growth.

And unlike in Power Rangers or any of that craziness, there’s no handing over your powers to someone else.  There’s no retirement plan.

There sure as hell isn’t a happily ever after.

I’ve spent twelve years trying to convince myself otherwise and the only thing I’ve learned is that fate is a cruel bitch and the business of saving the world sure as hell isn’t all it’s cracked up to be on TV.

I risked a glance around the corner.  Not immediately seeing my pursuit, I allowed myself a second to breathe, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to listen past the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.  They couldn’t be far.  Their pursuit had been dogged across rooftops and down through the cavernous alleyways. I’d be paying for my rappelling trick for days.

Austin would’ve told me that it was an impressive move, but probably an unnecessary stress on my body, a waste of economy.  As usual, he’d have probably been right about it, too.

But Austin wasn’t here.

Austin was why I was here.

Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer.  Someone must have called the cops, as if they’d be of any help in this situation. For all I knew, they were working for the enemy.

It would not have been the first time something like that had ever happened.

Just breathe, damn you.  It took every ounce of wherewithal not to snarl at myself.  Panicking wouldn’t do me any good, not now—not that it ever had. All it’d ever done had gotten me was into more trouble or yelled at by my former teammates.

Former.

If there was nothing else that slammed home how alone I was in this, it was that single word.

With Austin gone, too, I was well and truly on my own for the first time in twelve years.

I opened my eyes and stared at the wall ahead of me, then reached up to tap my tiara where it rested against my temple.  A crystal visor materialized a second later, numbers and figures scrolling in front of my right eye, almost too quickly for me to understand what they were telling me.

That had always been a problem, but it was one that I didn’t have the patience to fix and probably wouldn’t until the next time it almost got me killed.

Three of them closing in. I can dodge them or I can fight.

My hands curled into fists. As stupid as it was, I wanted their blood.  I wanted to put them out of my misery.

It would be three less foot soldiers for the enemy to throw at me in the future.

Hell, they might have been the ones who took my brother, which meant that I owed them more than a little payback.

I should have listened sooner.  If I’d listened sooner, none of this would have happened.  None of this would have started again.  We could have stopped it.

Dammit, we could have stopped it before it started all over again.

Too late now.

I watched the scroll for a few more seconds.  My breathing calmed and I counted my heartbeats, listening as the sirens grew closer.  The sirens—and the three men who thought that I couldn’t hear them coming.

They brought this on themselves.

Hands tightening into fists, I took one last, slow breath.

“Fuck with the Crystal Princess and see what you get,” I breathed, then pivoted out of my hiding place and into the open.  Leveling my wand—twelve inches of iridescent, crystallized silver—at them, I growled words that only felt even more ridiculous every time I said them. “Quicksilver Crystal Blade Spread!”

In the split second between the men realizing what I’d said and the blast hitting, the look on their faces was nothing short of priceless—they thought I was the most ridiculous thing walking.

They weren’t far from wrong.

Even ridiculous, however, I was still deadlier than they were.

The magic started as a brief flare of gray-white light, almost too faint to see.  It grew exponentially in a matter of seconds, gaining form and substance as crystalline daggers that flew in an arc in front of me. Dozens of them found their mark, blasting the center most of my pursuers clear off his feet, sending him flying backwards a dozen yards.  His companions had a split second to look at each other, their mocking and amusement melting into something close to fear.

One of them had the temerity to shoot at me.

He missed, though not by much.  It helped that I was already moving.

If I’d learned anything over the years, it was to keep moving before they got your measure and your number came up once and for all.

The other thing I’d learned was to come at the enemy with all you’ve got because you never know which encounter’s going to be the last.

Catching the one on my right in the chest with my foot, I pushed off him to tackle the one on the left, the one that had managed to get a shot off.  As his companion went careening into the wall, I bore the shooter to the ground, using momentum to make up for my lack of girth.  The gun clattered from his hand, went spinning away, out of reach of both of them.

They were already bleeding from the dagger spread.

Monsters, after all, bleed just like everyone else.

Whipping my wand toward his jaw like a baton as I bore him to the ground, the shooter’s head bounced off the concrete as we landed, me on top of him.  His eyes rolled up into his head for a second, then he snarled.  I could only see the whites of his eyes as he lunged upward at me, fingers hooked into claws.

Oh no, you did not just pull that shit with me.  Throwing up one arm to catch his hands, I drove the heel of my free hand into his nose.

The sound he made was the stuff of nightmares—half a scream, half a growl.  It soured my stomach and sent bile creeping into my throat, touching a primal fear built into all of us.

Unlike most, I’ve figured out over the years how to shunt that fear aside and keep on fighting.

I risked a look away from him to check on my other assailants.  The one that had taken the brunt of the daggers wasn’t moving—he was probably out, though I wasn’t sure.  The other, though—

Yeah.  I should have been a little more vigilant about him.

A booted foot sent me sprawling, knocking me from my perch on the shooter’s chest.  The other man stalked after me, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and a few places where the daggers had caught him, too.

“You should have stayed out of it,” he growled, his voice guttural, somehow human and inhuman all at once.  A shiver shot down my spine.

Just in case I needed more confirmation that something was rotten in the state of Denmark...

Well, I had it now, not that I’d needed it.

“Fat chance,” I said, brandishing my wand.  He laughed at me.

“What are you going to do with that, Princess?  It’s a sparkly stick with magic.  You don’t have too many charges left, now do you?  Bet you’re spent after that last-ditch effort to shake us off.”

“Oh,” I said quietly. “You’d be surprised.”

They were working from outdated information.  That was good to know.

While being older meant that I’d pay a heavier price for any sort of physical feats of magical-girl prowess, having become a magical woman had apparently translated to a deeper fount of magic.

“Quicksilver Mist Arise.”

His eyes widened as the air around him thickened.  I crawled back, stumbled to my feet, watching as a silver mist coalesced around him and his fallen companion.  Their faces changed as the fog swirled around them, growing heavier, thicker.

There it was.  The demonic-looking visages I’d expected, the ones I’d sensed but not seen.

They were getting better and better at hiding in plain sight.

Still, they hadn’t quite gotten good enough to fool me—not most of the time, anyway.

The mist choked off even their screams as it stole their breath.

Carefully, I stepped around the mist and headed toward their fallen companion, crouching to check for a pulse.  I found none. His face had taken on the same demonic cast in death that illusion shrouded in life.  My lips thinned as I started to search him, hoping to find something some clue to what they’d been up to—other than hunting me.

Behind me, the mist faded away, leaving the bodies of his companions lying in the alleyway. Muttering a curse as I came up empty in my initial search, I headed for the other two and repeated my search.

Nothing.

Maybe they were getting smarter after all.

I straightened and shook my head, staring at them for a few seconds, throat tightening at the shameful waste of it all.  It didn’t have to be this way.

But they’d chosen this war, and the war, in turn, had chosen me.

If I wanted to save my brother, I didn’t have any choice.  I had to keep fighting.  No one else would.

There’s no handing your power to someone else when you end up where I’m at.  No new reincarnation crops up to pick up where you left off, to take your wand and skirt that you thought you’d hung up and fight the good fight.

There’s only you and the demons that still stalk your days and your nights—both the ones that come from outside and the ones that come from your soul.

We thought the war was over.

How wrong we were.

[ultimatebottom69]

Everyone ho quiet I'm going back to politics. I'm not from the USA as you all know. But I am getting involved in this due to fucking hum. Yeah. The Economy and life of others because I don't like to live in my cave and no knowing what is happening elsewhere. I mean we do be living in a major historical area.

Cynism will not get you anywhere especially if you are spreading missinformation. This 4 years were the biggest scam I have ever seen.

Now the first question.

Do I like Hillary Clinton ? Oh God no. I mean she is very bad but I do think that with the help of her husband she could have still done the damn job. My expectation for every next president is so low I think I reached atoms level.

I do hope that whatever the fuck is happening in USA gets better. We don't want another world war. We don't another Shoah. We don't want fights. I know no one in the world is really in peace but I have to say. If we don't aim to get better, of course we will never get better. USA due to it's propaganda was...An ideal land. Everyone wanted to ge there you know...It's just...Disapointing to know that what you thought was a chocolate bar was dirt filled with worms and cockroaches. I am honestly sad. It is sad.

Second assumption many people have when they see me.

I think many people thought for a second I liked Biden. No. I don't like him at all. I think he did many mistakes in the past, that he has to own up to them.

Do I prefer Biden over Trump ? Hell fucking yes. I prefer the old rotten politician over a Hitler wanna be anyday.

Because what I like with Biden is we can see what he is gonna do. Like you're not gonna wake up one day and learn he fucking insulted King-Jun-Un on Nation's day. You're not gonna ask how many shits did he did in his life every second.

What I like with Biden is. He is predictable. You know what the fuck he wants. Money. He doesn't to piss off conservatives for fun, he doesn't want equal rights. Nor does he wants fame. No he wants money. That's something we can work with. That's something I can understand. I don't need to be inside his head. His thoughts are linear and logical. His words are clear. He finishes his sentences.

I hate Biden because he is a politician. Not a reality show host, multimillionaire.

Also I do find it funny that France has their youngest president ever at the same time USA as their oldest president in office. Well played everyone.

[heartofether]

Episode 1 - Pilot TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Please state your message.

[THEME MUSIC AND INTRODUCTION PLAYS.]

VAL

Three-Eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME CONTINUES BEFORE COMING TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S CAR, EARLY EVENING.]

[THE SOUND OF A CAR DRIVING IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

Welcome to Daughtler, Washington.

I thought it might be nice to have some company, so, hope you don’t mind. I guess I didn’t want to be alone when I started a new chapter of my life in a town where I know nothing and no one.

It’s not all fearful. I mean, of course I’m scared. I have no idea how this new job is going to go, or if the people in this town are even going to like me.  Damn, what if they’re all homophobic bigots? That would suck. Not that I plan on dating or anything. No. 

I’m getting off track. Yes, I’m scared, but I think I’m also excited. I’m excited to have my own house—well, I’m renting it, and it’s old as hell, but it’s still a step-up from a college dorm. I’m excited to decorate my room and my office. Oh yeah, I get to have an office at my work. I think I’m going to do that thing where I frame my Bachelor’s and hang it right above my head. That way, everyone knows that Irene Gray spent four years and a lot of money to sit in that desk chair and stare at trees all day.

Wish you were here. [THEN, SINCERE] Of course I do. 

[SILENCE FOR A MOMENT.]

IRENE It’s a nice town. It definitely has that small town vibe you would expect, but it seems lively nonetheless. It’s early evening, and there’s still people walking around. They seem happy. That gives me hope.

There’s a candy store. A modern-looking restaurant. A big bookstore. [CHUCKLES] Seriously? A DVD rental store? Dude, I didn’t even know those still existed. I’ve never been in one. Goes to show the retro atmosphere of this town I guess. [SCOFFS] As if DVDs are that old. 

I think I’m getting close to where my neighborhood is, though. I’m out of what seemed to be the downtown shopping area? There’s a Fry’s, of course. Corporations reach into even the most niche of rustic towns in late-stage capitalism. 

[SHE PAUSES.]

IRENE

Shit, am I already lost?

I don’t know if I mentioned this, but this town didn’t show up on the map. Kinda spooky, but it could just be a mistake? People knew the name when I brought it up, and obviously I got a job here, so it’s definitely not a ghost town. It seems to be fairly populated, actually. I haven’t tried using navigation yet, but my new boss sent me a map of the town. It’s just a matter of…

[THERE’S PAPER RUSTLING.]

IRENE

Oh! Okay, there’s Lemongrass Park, I think. I know where I am now.

Turn here, and then…?

This should be it. [SHE SIGHS] Home sweet home. 

[THE CAR COMES TO A STOP. IRENE TAKES THE KEYS OUT OF THE IGNITION.]

IRENE

Thankfully, Dad came down with the movers before I was able to, so it should be set up aside from the boxes in my car. He said the place was…cute. [MUTTERS] Whatever he means by that. 

I should turn this off. I’ve got stuff to bring in, and then I have to sort through whatever the movers brought. I’ll, uh, talk to you later? Yeah.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[TIME JUMP: TWO DAYS LATER.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S LIVING ROOM.]

IRENE

Hey. Sorry, I didn’t pick up where I left off the other day. Honestly, I said I was going to unpack, but after bringing some boxes inside and having an Uncrustable for dinner, I was exhausted. I just made the bed and passed out. Don’t worry, I won’t be eating like a uni student anymore. [PROUD] I actually went and got groceries today, so I will be making a proper dinner to celebrate a successful first day at work. 

Yeah, I really haven’t had a chance to rest yet. Yesterday was spent unpacking and setting up the house, and today was my first day. It’s been nice, though. Being busy means I don’t have to think. 

My boss, Caroline “Please, Call Me Carol” Roberts, was really sweet. She’s not that old, maybe in her late 30’s, but her face seemed aged with the weight of…I don’t know. Stress? Trauma? Her eyes make it look like she’s seen lots happen, I guess.

She also has the stereotypical southern accent, you know the one. According to her, she grew up in West Virginia before coming down to Washington for work. She even said she lived in Point Pleasant for about a year, which is wild. Imagine living in a town that is essentially just a shrine to some insect-themed cryptid. Maybe Daughtler has a local cryptid I don’t know about. That would be cool. Haven’t seen any big monstrous statues yet, but, there’s still parts of town I haven’t explored. I’ll have to look it up.

Carol seems cool, though. She definitely knows what she’s doing, which is the most important part.

Another one of my co-workers, Aden, actually said he’d bring in homemade croissants tomorrow. He said he would have brought them in today if he had known I was starting, something he profusely apologized for, but he then said that hopefully the gesture still counts. I’m looking forward to it. He’s a bit closer to my age, and from what I can tell from his office decor, really likes cats. I think you would get along with him. 

You would like my house, too, I think. I’m sitting in the living room right now. It’s definitely aged, like I said, but the floral wallpaper is nice. Grandma-like, but nice. It’s almost like a cottage, with chipped white paint and bright green windowsills. Like something out of a fairytale.

It could be worse. Yeah, the floorboards creak, and it’s a bit dirty, but the electricity and A/C work just fine. That’s all I care about for now. I haven’t been in the attic yet. Maybe when I have some downtime. 

[SHE PAUSES FOR A MOMENT.]

IRENE

[TONE SHIFTS TO PAINFULLY REMINISCIENT, ALMOST BITTERSWEET]  I’ve thought about how you would act in this town. Which stores you would frequent. What tree in Lemongrass Park you would sit under when you want to read.

I drove past the elementary school today during pickup, and saw one of the teachers—this old woman—waving at students as they left. I thought about if that was you. You would send your students off for the day, and then come home to our little house. We would make dinner while music played from the old radio the landlord left. We’d have cats, and there would be a garden in the backyard. Every night, after dinner, we would fall asleep together to the sound of crickets outside our bedroom window.

[SHE CLEARS HER THROAT.] I know I’m getting ahead of myself, but I can’t help it. It’s an instinct for me at this point. Wherever I go, I think about if you were there with me.

[A BITTERSWEET LAUGH.] I thought time would heal all wounds, but sometimes, Rose? It feels like I miss you more and more each day. I mean, look at me. It’s been four years, I’ve graduated college, and yet I’m still recording messages for someone I knew in high school.

[QUIET] Maybe I should stop these. The audio recordings. [ALMOST ANGRY] They helped a lot at first, but now? They’re just starting to feel like more of a diary. If that’s all I need, then hell, I can go buy a notebook and start a diary.

If I ever want to fully move on, I don’t think I can keep speaking to you. Work seems like it’s going to keep me occupied, anyways. If I do decide to stop doing these, then I’ll at least do a—

[A SUDDEN PAUSE AS SHE SEES SOMETHING.]

IRENE

What the hell? Sorry, I just—I’m looking around, and—

[EERIE MUSIC BEGINS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND. THERE ARE FOOTSTEPS ACROSS THE CREEKY WOODEN FLOOR AS IRENE WALKS OVER TO WHAT SHE SEES.]

IRENE

[DISGUSTED] What is that? It looks like, mold? No, it’s yellow, I think, and it’s seeped into the corner, both in the floorboards and up the wall. It’s not a lot, but it reeks. How did I not notice this before? Dad never mentioned anything about a mold or mildew problem, and he came to spot the house before I did.

Makes me think of rotten meat, or puss, but it’s not even liquid. It looks dry. Not that I’m going to touch it to find out.

You know what?

[EERIE MUSIC ENDS. THERE IS THE SOUND OF A CHAIR BEING DRAGGED ACROSS THE FLOOR TO COVER THE MOLD.]

IRENE

[UNUSUALLY UPBEAT] I’ll just ignore it for now. If it keeps spreading, then, well, that’s a problem I can deal with later.

Right, I should go make dinner. I know I said before that I like being busy because I don’t like to think, but now I do have some stuff to think about. [HESITATES] I’ll talk to you soon. Maybe.

Goodbye, Rose.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today’s quote is: “I try to make sense of things. Which is why, I guess, I believe in destiny. There must be a reason that I am as I am. There must be.”

Robin Williams in Bicentennial Man, 1999.

[THEME MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

[hibibun]

Do Over

Series: Persona 5 Pairing: Akira Kurusu/Goro Akechi Summary: Akira tries one last time to convince him and is surprised it didn't actually end with a bullet to the head. Warnings: Implied Suicide Ideation Notes: it has been a Long time since i replayed p5 especially when i first wrote this so please forgive any continuity errors. on that note i also have not played royal and this was written long before that came out or was announced so it will have no relation to it.  AO3

Akira knew it was reckless, but he had hoped it would be more a danger to himself than anyone else. Futaba and Morgana had worked so hard putting together their plan, yet, there was one other option that kept nagging the bespectacled teen. There were conversations, looks, just things about Goro Akechi that he couldn’t ignore even with the damning proof that he was about to betray them sitting in front of him.

It was impossible to ignore that the detective was also an actor, but there times came to mind that didn’t feel fake. It was selfish and stupid, but Akira wanted to know why. Why did Goro feel like he needed to do this? What did he gain from the other murders other than a ‘crime’ to solve as he can’t have known that the Phantom Thieves would pop up to eventually take the blame for those incidents?

He’d planned to ask that and more from the other, but the minute he meets him alone by the secluded portion of Shibuya’s train station that served as one of their former hideouts, all the words he’d planned vanish.

“What did you need? The calling card isn’t going out for another week I thought.”

Speaking has never been his strong suit, nor was subtlety.

“Why did you pretend not to know we were the Phantom Thieves?” Akira asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Truly nothing gets past you,” Goro answered a wide smile forming on his face, “What gave me away?

“Pancakes.”

The word lingered as the detective took a moment to remember just what that could be referring to.

“You’re always surprising me Kurusu-san, but unfortunately, I don’t think I can tell you why I lied just yet,” he said as his genuine smile dipped into that fake one once more, “Unless you’ve already come here because you know why I can’t.”

Akira didn’t want to admit anything despite it being clear on the other’s face that he knew. Some perhaps naïve side of him had hoped Goro could be reasoned or bargained with. He hasn’t given up per se, but there’s little else he can think to say considering he’s already compromised the plan quite a bit just by admitting he was aware something’s off.

“I don’t actually. I don’t know why you’re doing this at all.”

The detective’s careful smile remained static and Akira was having difficulty now telling whether it was actually real or fake, as if Goro’s mouth hadn’t quite decided which it was making either.

“Think about it a little harder. I know you’re not stupid Akira.”

His fingers froze as he’d been in the midst of fiddling with the front of his bangs out of nervous habit. That was the first time he’s heard the other use his first name and he wished it wasn’t filled with so much malice.

“You… aren’t on our side are you? Not really anyway,” he answered, but that part was obvious. It didn’t really explain anything. He’d thought—no, hoped—different though. As if some part of Goro had wanted to be with them, but simply couldn’t for some reason. The truth that maybe he didn’t want to and that his hatred towards them was actually sincere seemed to blindside Akira and he kind of hated himself for thinking otherwise.

“You know what’s going to happen to us, but what’s going to happen to you?” Akira pushed, desperate to get his point across even if it was obvious now more than ever that his feelings were always stronger than the one standing in front of him.

“I’ll finish the job, take the credit and then… well, I’ll deliver the comeuppance I’ve been striving for,” Goro replied vaguely and it took Akira a moment to parse what he meant. The whole thing struck him as odd though. His words didn’t sound as confident as they usually did and he was left wondering if that was really what the detective wanted. Even more so, it didn’t answer the original question in the slightest as it left Goro’s fate more ambiguous than ever.

“If we both want to tear things down, why are you so against joining us? We could help you,” Akira reasoned, selfishly adding, “I want to help you.”

Goro’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he stepped closer. Akira unintentionally backed up until he felt the bar of the railing dig into his back, suddenly aware of how close he is to the edge.

“Someone like you or your little friends could never understand. I don’t care if we want the same things. I don’t even care if what you’re all doing actually is helping society or not. In the end, I just want to see that man fall from grace by my own hands, and nothing, will take that away from me,” Goro seethed, as he placed a carefully gloved hand to the other’s chest.

“You can’t help me and more than that I would never want attic trash like you to even try.”

He punctuated his point by grabbing tight the folded label of Akira’s uniform, but his hands didn’t push one way or the other. Akira was expecting it though and braced for the fall, surprised when it didn’t come. Quite frankly, it was the only thing that gave him the courage to keep talking.

“What makes you think he doesn’t already know what you’re planning to do? You’re not exactly subtle, Akechi,” Akira said, a bemused expression on his face despite the situation at hand, “You’re dead no matter what you do. Just like me.”

Just slightly, the grip the detective had on his jacket loosened and he could tell his words were affecting the other’s resolve. Despite this, Goro continued on as if he still had every intention of pushing him.

“If you know what I’m intending to do, your little friends must be trying to stop me. Considering I could end things now, you might as well tell me what it is they plan on doing.”

“That’s the thing Akechi, we don’t have a plan. You’re going to betray us, and I’m the one who will take the fall,” He bluffed, interested at this point in seeing if anything he has to say will convince him.  

“So you came here to try and stop me now? That’s pretty stupid—and pathetic,” Goro chuckled, no humor actually present in his laugh.

“No, I mostly just wanted to know why; and to be honest, you still haven’t really told me,” Akira explained and the detective hated the way his expression made his words seem almost believable. Before he could open his mouth to tear apart Akira’s words, the other broke his rhythm with a question so quiet it took him a minute to process it.

“Were we ever friends?”

Goro could admit, he had wanted that. Somewhere in between his attempts to spy on them and the times they actually spent time together, he and Akira had felt like friends. Yet, that line was so blurry at times as well. With the amount of connections the other had, why would he ever take the time to actually think of the detective in that manner? Someone like him already had everything he could ever want, even with a permanently damaged reputation and a less than pleasant living situation.

He would never have any of those things no matter how hard he tried. His reputation was built on a stack of lies that would come tumbling down the moment he let go of the trigger as he publicly destroyed his father’s life. Then where would he be? Likely dead or soon to be dead, but he told himself such an outcome was worth it. He had nothing before this and even if he had nothing afterwards, what did it matter? The last thing he could do with his life was at least ease his resentment.  

Even after losing everything, Akira had more than him, but there’s something rotten and painfully sweet that even with everything he has that he still would want someone like Goro.

“And here I was calling you my equal, but you’re stupider than I thought,” Goro eventually replied, voice tight with bitterness and a dash of fear. He hated that his words were only met with a smile. As if everything he just said was seen through in an instant because truthfully, he knew for as idiotic and thoughtless Akira was when it came to taking a risk, he was anything but a moron.

“Is it really so hard to believe me? They wouldn’t hate you for wanting to seek revenge. That’s what the Phantom Thieves do,” Akira tried again figuring one last time couldn’t hurt. The detective hunched his shoulders, his grip on the other’s lapel losing all of its hold. It was supposed to feel satisfying taking their little group down and killing Akira with them, but suddenly he couldn’t find it in him. However briefly, he had entertained the notion that this all was a trap, but of course Akira is stupidly earnest and even more foolishly optimistic.

“They’ll never accept what I’ve done. Even if they feel the same way about him, I…” He started, before Akira cut him off.

“I can’t promise you that, nor can I say whether they’d forgive you, but I didn’t feel right just letting this happen without talking to you. There’s no reason you can’t start changing now, it’s not too late,” Akira said as his own hand moved to delicately unwind Goro’s from his jacket.

“What would you even tell them? Would they believe you?”

“I’d say you had a change of heart,” Akira joked, his eyes giving away how much he wanted to make the mood lighter. Goro couldn’t help the laughter it drew out of him and violently he has the urge to intertwine their fingers while his hand was still being held.

“It’s not like I can change things now. I guess I couldn’t kill you after all,” he replied instead, drawing his hand away entirely. Goro watched the way the other’s mouth twitches up into a smile and when he opened it to answer, he can tell this time it is with complete sincerity.

“I’m touched.”