#I mean...Gil is evidence of that

[kdrama-movies-more]

Ah God...years back I had hop-skipped a lot of Strong Girl Do Bong-soon from the halfway point and erased half the kidnapper plot from memory....

So turns out the mystery part of Behind Your Touch is a jarring mashup of Bong-soon and Beyond Evil🙈 huh???

[haleth]

The Bachelor: Nargothrond coming soon! (The Bachelor is Túrin. Everyone dies.) Flower meanings under the cut!

Aeglos (I based its appearance off of gorse flowers)- A fictional flower that grows near her grave and has the same name as Gil-Galad's spear (cause who doesn't love a Fin-Galad hc)

Carolina Roses- Love is dangerous (this one feels self evident)

Hemlock- You will be my death (...)

[matan4il]

What's your evidence that Joost Klein harassed Eden at ESC? I've only seen evidence of Joost being harassed by Israeli delegation. And he was an assholeish idiot at the press conference but he wasn't the worst. And can people pleaaase stop spreading the smear campaign the EBU put out about him. He made a rude gesture, that's it.

Hi,

I'm gonna admit that if you saw the Dutch performer's behavior at the press conference, IDK how that doesn't constitute harassment? I mean, the part where he didn't like that the ESC organizers made him sit next to the Israeli singer, and he didn't want to be in the same frame with her, so he covered himself with the Dutch flag wasn't just being an asshole, he was publicly humiliating her, transmitting to everyone what a pariah she is, not based on anything she's said and done, but simply based on her nationality (and this little stunt was obviously going to attract attention, meaning he minded being photographed next to her, but he didn't mind being photographed covered up with the flag like that in the same frame with her, making it clear this wasn't him wanting to avoid political stuff).

In my book, that's bad enough, but then he added insult to injury. Eden was asked a disgusting question by a Polish journalist. He wanted to know whether she considered that she would be putting everyone else at ESC at risk (victim blaming much? Eden was the target of a violent mob besieging her hotel room, and turning her participation into an event requiring security. She didn't ask them to do this, she didn't force them to, she's a 20 year old girl, who has dreamt of representing her country at ESC for years, and when she finally gets to, she's being asked to carry the blame for the violence aimed at her due to her nationality... Imagine asking Ariana Grande after her Manchester Arena performance if she took into account that she was risking the lives of all of her fans, because an Islamist decided to use her event for a terrorist bombing that killed 22 young people, and would she never perform again, now that she was aware of the risk? No, that didn't happen, because it's a disgusting, victim blaming, terrorism-rewarding question). The panel host rightfully grasped that this was a political and harassing question, and told her she didn't have to answer it. Joost Klein then shouting at that, "Why not?" was harassment. He was piling up on the victim blaming, on top of showing zero empathy for a fellow performer targeted for her nationality, in a way he never would have agreed to be himself.

(I think that's last assessment is obvious since we now know he thought, even for a split second, that it was okay to threaten with fists a female camerawoman working for ESC, doing her job, filming the performers when they got off stage after their performances. This was done to the other performers as well, IDK what made Klein think his consent was needed in that moment, since to me it seems implied by agree to represent the Netherlands at ESC, but even if he had the right to refused being filmed, I have no idea what made him believe it was okay to use violent threats against an ESC employee).

I'd like to ask you where did you see "evidence" that Klein was harassed by the Israeli delegation? As far as I'm aware, there was only one vid trying to make that claim, and what was seen in that one, was an Israeli journalist (so, not a part of the performing team), working as a European correspondent (he also covered the war in Ukraine, to give you an idea of what that job entails, so he's a "respectable" journalist, not just a guy with a mic interviewing people for his ESC blog), called Dov Gil-Har (as far as I know, he's aligned with the left politically, so not exactly someone likely to be harassing people out of nationalistic sentiments), who was trying to ask Klein questions. Which... the last time I checked is his duty as a journalist. And Klein refused to answer Gil-Har's questions, which is his prerogative (though I do think it was pretty disgusting when some performers, like the Norwegian ones, refused to give interviews to any Israeli media outlets. Since it's based on nationality, it's once again hateful IMO), but then the Dutch team's manager (or whatever he was) really got in Gil-Har's face, and more than that, because I clearly heard Dov saying, "Don't touch me." Keep in mind, this was after Klein's shameful behavior at the press conference, and also after he missed a rehearsal that day, there were rumors circling around it somehow had something to do with Israel, so it is honestly the most natural thing for Gil-Har as a journalist, that he wanted to ask the Dutch team some questions. That should not have ended with him having to say, "Don't touch me," but to further misconstrue this as him harassing the Dutch team...!? WHAT?

It feels like another instance of DARVO, where the attacker/harasser/abuser shifts the fire away by reversing who was doing the harassment and who was being harassed. Everything we saw on camera was harassment of the Israelis, including even the media, while I've not seen one documentation on film of the Israelis harassing others. Plus, I heard the claim that the Israeli team was harassing everyone, yet we know that some performers didn't feel, act or express themselves that way.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[lovekeis]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ; 𝐠. 𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n — i am…rusty so forgive me that this is so short! but i wanted to get smth out for my shawties and bc my gil brainrot is sooooo bad .. anyway enjoy! pink lady!reader, reader is latina, fem!reader <3 for @cyansadness sorry this took like eight million years </3

summary — a look into your relationship with your favorite boy, gil rizzo.

wc — 620

“hey hey hey, did’ya really think i’d let you get out without me doin’ it for you? c’mon, get back in.”

your boyfriend’s eyebrows are knit together tightly in a way you could think of as disappointed if it wasn’t for the little smirk playing at his lips.

you give him a long look, one eyebrow raised because seriously? he cannot be serious right now.

but he is, and you both stare at each other for a moment before you let out a dramatic groan and clamber back into the driver’s side of your car.

“y’know, rizzo —“ you speak as you duck back in, closing the door and clasping your hands politely in your lap, “if you had just picked me up then we wouldn’t even be havin’ this problem—“

“—that’s not my fault!” gil’s response comes out faster than you can even finish your sentence, his tone laced with offense, “i had to drop betty off today! and she was very upset she couldn’t see you, by the way, talked my ear off the entire drive about how it wasn’t fair that she ‘had to be stuck with her idiot brother and not his cool girlfriend’. personally i think it’s gotta be that time of the month or somethin’ because—“

gil cuts himself off the second he sees the glare you give him, immediately holding his hands up, “sorry, sorry! i’ll stop talking, i should definitely stop talking.”

“proud of you, you never realize it that quickly.” you grin, watching him open your car door and reaching your hand out in a very practiced gesture. the feel of his larger hand holding yours is familiar, comforting, and you can’t help but feel your face heat up at the touch. quickly you deflect, “and make sure to tell betty i’ll take her out for a manicure soon. no icky boys invited.”

gil holds his heart as if he’s been shot and the giggle it pulls from you is completely unintentional.

how annoying. you’ve been with gil for how long and he still makes you feel like a little girl writing “mrs. richie valdovinos <3” in your diary (if anyone reminds gil of this he might kill them).

gil closes the door behind you and you smile up at him, already turning so he can help you put your favorite article of clothing on — your pretty pink jacket. nancy had even added a sweet heart next to your name, as per your request (though she had to let you know she hated it).

“thank you, amor.” you grin, going onto your tip toes so you can press a soft kiss to his lips. his hands come to rest on your waist and when you pull back the bright blush on his cheeks is evident in spite of his efforts to hide it. you like him like this, vulnerable and sweet and hopelessly lovesick.

the second your lips touch again you pause, leaning back to raise an eyebrow at him, “baby, what time is it?”

“two thirty, pretty girl, why?”

“god dammit, i’ve got class — walk me there?”

gil shoots you a grin that reminds you of the day you two met and you fell in love, nodding and quickly spinning you so you two can start walking.

his hand finds its way to what seems like its forever home, the back pocket of your blue jeans, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest; it’s a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to, but to you that’s not a bad thing.

it just means that gil rizzo will always have the annoyingly endearing ability to make you remember exactly why you fell in love in the first place.

tagging some of my rotpl babes (i’m sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged but I figured you’d like it </3): @sirenlulls @angeltails @fabiolajyx

[vintagelasvegas]

Sahara, January 1, 1969

Facing north; Sahara's two hotel towers out of frame to the right.

Story from McClain Bybee, 2023:

I was the Sahara Hotel Assistant Casino Credit Manager in 1969. My boss Gil Virant was killed by organized criminals that year.

Newspapers had run the story that Gil's death was a suicide. Further investigation by the local law officials, the State Gaming Control Board, the FBI, and the Del Webb Corporate officials revealed that Gil was involved in the embezzlement of a large amount of money in association with a criminal element from back east. The FBI later found that the individuals who were associated with Virant had also embezzled monies from a large Baptist Church organization. Those men were later found dead. Tom Ault, head of the FBI Las Vegas office, told us that evidence at Gil Virant's home indicated that Gil was forced to ingest Drano by the two suspects which caused his death.

The embezzlement started as a check-kiting scheme. The FBI felt that the suspects were threatening Gil with disclosing his gay lifestyle as a means of keeping him to give them more money and time to pay the outstanding markers and checks. Eventually, the dollar amount of the float became so large that Gil appeared to decide to go to corporate management and disclose what he was involved in. It was felt that his possible decision precipitated the murder. I was caught in the middle of the investigation because my name (signature) appeared on a number of markers and documents. My home was secretly staked out by the FBI for about a month, which I later learned from Tom Ault.

[Below] is a photo of Gil Virant from my files.

“$300,000 Shortage Reported From Cashier's Cage at Sahara … the R-J learned about the investigation Monday. On Nov. 6, a casino cashier, Gil Virant, 35, was found dead in his home. His death was termed a suicide. He apparently slashed his wrest and taken poison … Virant, who resided at 3020 Ashby, worked at the Sahara for the past seven years. He was single.” – Don Digilio, Review-Journal, 11/12/69

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

insecurities. ( gil grissom x reader )

You were enjoying a romantic meal for two that night. Gil proved that on top of being a top CSI, he was also talented in the culinary arts and you ate dinner over candlelight, music playing in the background but all you could focus on was each other. You were starting to believe luck was on your side that night as you were left undisturbed but your date night came to an abrupt end when his cell phone rang while you were sitting on the sofa. His left arm was around your shoulders, his hand on your cheek as his lips met yours with knee-crippling passion. But the second Catherine's ringtone sounded through the living room, it was all over.

You pulled away from his arms as Gil moved to pick up his cell phone on the coffee table and rolled your lips, hiding your disappointment with curiosity as he recounted Catherine's details of the crime scene so far. He ended the call after informing Catherine he was on his way and turned to you, his eyes sympathetic while he told you about the crime scene.

"Two skaters saw a man fall from a roof."

"I'll get my coat." You rose from the sofa, picked up your cell phone, and carried it to your purse, placing it inside before walking to the hallway to retrieve your jacket.

Gil drove to the lab to pick up your kits and you covered your dress with an official jacket. As you grew closer to the crime scene you turned your head that was resting on the rest, smiling softly when you noticed he kept glancing at you since you left his place.

"What? Do I have lipstick on my face?" You pulled the mirror down and checked your make up, looking at Gil when he shook his head.

"No, you look fine. I mean you look fantastic." Your smile grew as you pushed the mirror away, sitting back. "I know this is not what either of us had planned for tonight -"

"Comes with the territory." You understood what he was trying to convey, and knew he couldn't predict when a new case was called in. Since he hired you, there was always something there between you, and what started as attraction became something not quite love until you knew there was no other way to describe how you felt about each other. And while you imagined tonight ending differently, you didn't train to be a CSI because of the glitz and glamour that came with the job. "We can reschedule."

Gil nodded, and while he was also disappointed tonight came to an abrupt halt, he was wondering how he would be able to focus on the crime scene while you were wearing that dress.

Nick and Warrick arrived on the scene after Catherine, and Nick remarked how they had beaten Grissom to the crime scene as he was usually the first one to arrive. When Gil parked outside the yellow tape, the two turned to watch as you both got out of the car, sharing a glance at your dress.

Nick smirked as Gil held up the tape, allowing you to duck under before following. "Were you on a date?"

"No, I picked her up on the way." Gil replied before you could sass Nick who assumed he hadn't understood the implications in his question.

You followed Gil to the body, glaring at Nick who wiggled his eyebrows at your outfit, and while you wore a baggy CSI jacket over the dress, the fit around your thighs provided enough hints of the flirty dress underneath.

"Warrick, I want you to photograph down here, before moving onto the roof," Gil ordered, heading towards the building. "Y/N, you're with me."

You followed your boyfriend of two months, biting back a sigh, as you couldn't shake how quickly he shot down Nick and wondered if your relationship would ever be known to the team.

The feeling that he wanted your relationship to be kept hidden stayed with you for days as you worked the case and after following the evidence was proven to be murder. The team working to identify the killer. You suspected that something had been overlooked, something so small that it seemed insignificant which is why you spent over an hour examining Warrick's crime scene photographs, scouring every pixel with a magnifying glass.

Nick entered the room where you were working, photographs organized neatly on the table, and he looked at the photographs for a moment before he spoke. "Grissom wants to see you."

You sighed, sitting back. "It's probably about the particles on the victim's shoes." You looked at Nick with a pleading expression, "Can you deliver the report? I really think I'm onto something."

Nick nodded, "Sure." He observed as you retrieved the file from the table behind you. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" You sent him a small smile as you handed him the file.

"You seem a little off. Since we got this case you've not been acting like yourself. If its about what I said at the crime scene -"

"I know you were kidding." You sighed, "I was on a date when I got the call. And I haven't had the chance to talk to him about what is going on between us. I mean, I thought I knew, but now I'm not so sure."

Nick sent you a friendly smile, "Talk to him. And if he isn't serious then I can list on two hands how many guys asked if you're single."

You shook your head, laughing lightly. "Thank you."

"Anytime." He walked away and you sighed as you lowered your gaze to the photographs. You hadn't spoken to Gil about anything but the case and you knew you had to confront him eventually, but right now, you focused on the photographs of the scene, hoping to find the answer you were looking for.

Less than ten minutes later Gil entered the room where you were working. You raised your head, raising an eyebrow when he closed the door. He turned around and approached the table.

"We need to talk." He held up the file in his hand and you sighed, predicting what was to come. "Since when is Nick your delivery boy?"

"He was doing me a favor. I'm onto something -"

"No, you've been avoiding me." Gil corrected. "I want to know why."

You sighed, setting the magnifying glass on the table, and walking over to him. "What are we?" You asked. "I mean, is it as serious for you as it is for me?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, so you continued, "At the crime scene, you shut Nick down. Like you never want anyone finding out about us."

"Do you want people to find out about us?"

You threw him an aggravated glance, "Don't answer my question with another question."

Gil nodded slowly, "I reacted that way because I didn't think you wanted anyone to know we are dating."

It was your turn to feel confused. "Why? Why would you think that?"

"In these walls, I'm your boss. We both know what people would think."

You stepped closer, shaking your head, "I don't care about that. I've never cared."

"Really?"

You nodded, wetting your lips nervously. "Does it bother you?"

He shook his head, and you smiled softly. "So...it doesn't matter if anyone sees us kiss right now?"

Your smile grew when he stepped closer, shaking your head. "If you don't I'd be disappointed."

Gil mirrored your smile, leaning in to kiss you tenderly. You placed your hands on his jaw, leaning into his chest when he rested his hands on your waist.

Nick walked down the corridor, pausing when he noticed you and Grissom, grinning when he realized Gil was the man you were talking about. He tapped the paperwork off his hand as he left, shaking his head with a smile. It was time to inform Greg that he owed Catherine thirty dollars after the blonde had hinted at your romance weeks ago, but no one believe it could be true as you and Gil were both very private about your life outside work and now he understood why.

[happycamper72]

in ep 5 when Gil asks "what are we missing" at the Halloween party and Ed answers "the girls" (my) first thought was the pinks but I think he means Cynthia and Olivia ??

we haven't really seen any evidence of the pinks and t birds hanging out as one group at this point (I don't think) but Cynthia will have obviously been a part of all of their pranks since they first started being little shits all together and in ep 1 Richie says he spent all day convincing their mum to let Olivia come with, I bet he did that all the time and dragged her out constantly, especially on Halloween (or alternatively might have been encouraged to take Olivia with him to try keep him out of trouble) !

The t birds are probably so used to having the two of them - Cynthia's a natural born hype man and an ideas guy, and it's so in character for Olivia to not really take part but to keep making sarcastic comments to not get over excited and use all of the loo roll/eggs etc. too soon so they can keep going - for the first time the t birds are on their own and the vibe is way off, balance thrown, tradition unfulfilled

[razzlerdazzler]

A long week

@micheleamidalajedi Sorry for taking so long to finish this, college was being a pain in my ass, but now I'm good to write again. Hope you like it :)

Pairing: Warrick x female reader

Warnings: Smut

Summary: After a hard week at work, you and Warrick go out to relax. However, you didn't consider the fact that neither of you have been able to have any alone time all week, and tensions get high.

You and Warrick have always been close, you both grew up in the same neighborhood, and were in the same grade. You two quickly hit it off, and soon became practically inseperable, doing everything together. If somebody saw one of you, they would know that the other was nearby. So that's why it wasn't a surprise to anybody, when you both went to the same college for forensic science.

Soon enough, you both got a job at the same lab. It wasn't long after that that you two confessed your undying love for each other, and you've been dating ever since. You and Warrick are currently on your way to a crime scene that Gil put you two on. You smile as you look at Warrick in the other seat, who's driving. He glances over at you for a quick second, before his eyes turn back to the road. "What are you smiling at?" He asks, a small smile of his own coming onto his face. Your smile turns into a mischevious smirk, "what, can't I just admire my beautiful boyfriend?" He chuckles and shakes his head. You smile and look back out the window, until an idea pops into your head and you look back at him.

"Wanna go to the bar tonight after this? My treat," you say. He glances back over at you again and his smile grows wider, "sure why not. We could use a break after the week we've had." You smile and nod, Gil has been putting your two to work on most of the cases this week. Since Catherine and Sara have been out of town at a conference about new forensic technology. "Do you want to go right after work or later?" You ask. He nods, "right after work sounds good to me."

Soon you reach the house, polic tape already surrounding it, and multiple cop cars are still at the scene. He parks the van and you both get out. You both walk up to Brass, and you say, "hey Jim." He looks up at you guys, "Sara and Catherine still aren't back yet?" You shake your head, "they'll be back tomorrow." He nods and walks towards the body, as you and Warrick follow. "Forty six year old male, he was found dead in his living room with a bullet in his chest, his wife found him." He nods his head to an older woman sobbing and talking to some police officers. You nod and look at the body. "Robbery?" Warrick asks, and Brass shakes his head, nothing is missing from the house." Warrick nods and says "I'll check the other rooms and outside to see if there's any evidence." You nod as you put gloves on and check his wrists for any marks. You see bruises and scrathces on his wrists, signs that he was fighting his attacker. Warrick comes back over and you look up at him.

"Find anything?" You ask, and he nods and raises one of the plastic evidence bags you guys use, and your eyes widen when you see the gun inside it. "Found this outside in the bushes." You raise an eyebrow at his words, "they didn't take the gun with them when they left, so that might mean that the killer wasn't expecting to use it." You suggest, and Warrick shrugs, "maybe, we'll send it to lab and see if they can get any prints on it." You nod and move the man's hand to check his fingernails. "He's got skin underneath his fingernails," you say as you grab a swab and gently take the skin under the man's fingernails and put it in a bag. "Might have enough DNA from our killer on it." Warrick nods. You both finish checking the the house and body for evidence, before you eventually make your way back to the van with the evidence, and start making your way back to the lab.

"Think we might have enough evidence to catch them?" You ask and he nods, "hopefully." You both stay in complete silence for a couple of minutes as he drives you back to the lab, before he suddenly speaks up. "Are you ready for our date tonight?" You smile happily as you look over at him. "You bet I am, the real question is if you're ready." He chuckles and shakes his head. You both return to companionable silence, and you can't stop yourself from smiling and getting giddy at the thought of your date tonight.

Soon you guys get back to the lab, and you bring in all the evidence bags. You both stay at work for hours, until the lab results from the DNA under the man's fingernails return. You open the folder, and your eyes widen when you see who the DNA matches with. You quickly exit the lab and make your way over to the room Warrick's in, when he quickly exits it. "Hey, I need to speak to you about the DNA we found under the man's fingernails." He looks at you, eyes wide, until he chuckles. "I was about to come over to you and show you the results of the fingerprints we got the gun." He raises the folder he's holding.

You nod, "you first." He smiles and gives you the folder he's holding and you give him yours. You open the folder as he says, "the fingerprints from the gun show that the person who was holding the gun was somebody from inside the household. His wife. I also checked the database for when the gun was bought, and it was only three days ago." You nod and take in his words and say "the DNA from uner the man's fingernails is also his wife's." He nods, "looks like we got our killer. Let's turn these into Brass, and head out for the night."

You smile at his words and nod. You both make your way down to Brass's office and show him the information and the evidence you collected. He nods and wishes you both a good night, as you two walk out of his office. You make your way to the locker rooms, and grab your guys' stuff, before heading to his car. You get in the passenger seat as Warrick gets in the drivers seat. He starts the car and backs it out of the parking space and out of the parking lot. You look out the window at the scenery that passes by and your leg starts bouncing from excitement.

He glances over at you and gently moves his hand to your thigh. You feel your heartbeat quicken and you look over at him, surprised by the action. He's just smiling at the road, and you feel his hand squeeze your thigh. You smile and look down at the hand on your thigh. You gently put your hand on top of his and you feel butterflies in your stomach as you notice the obvious size difference of your hands. You feel heat crawl up the back of your neck and you look back out the window.

A couple minutes later you two reach the bar. Warrick takes his hand off your thigh to park the car, and you already miss the feeling of his warmth. He parks the car, and you both walk into the bar, hand in hand. Warrick looks at you, "you go find us a table, and I'll get us some drinks." You nod, and you both separate as he goes to the bar and you go looking for an open table. Luckily, you are able to find a booth open, and as you sit in it, Warrick comes over with your guys drinks. He sits down across from you, as you take your drink from him. "Why thank you good sir," you say with a smile, causing him to chuckle and shake his head.

You take a sip of your cold drink and let out a deep sigh as you let yourself relax. "Work week is finally over." You say with a smile, and Warrick grins. "Yup, it was a rough one without the whole gang, but it's finally over." He takes a drink from his bottle and sighs, "this is nice, haven't really had a chance to hang out with you this week, well not after work I mean." You nod and grimace at his words. He's right, with Catherine and Sara gone, everybody had to work more, and you didn't hate it but it still meant not having any free time after work with him. "Well, the week is over now, and we can spend as much time as we want together this weekend." He smiles and nods, "sounds like a plan."

You both talk about different things happening in your lives recently for a couple of hours. That is until you notice that he is admiring you, and you smirk. "What are you looking at?" You ask teasingly. He smirks, "what? Can't I just admire my gorgeous girlfriend?" You feel flustered, as he uses the line you used on him earlier, and you look down at your drink that you've barely touched. "Want to go back to mine?" He asks. You nod, and realize that neither of you had really drank tonight, so it should be fine for him to drive you there. He smiles, "stay here, I'll pay our tabs." You nod at him, and admire him as he walks away. He's always been a gentleman, even when you two weren't dating. He's always offered to help you out, and when you two go out drinking, or out to eat, he always offers to pay the bill or tab. However, you usually don't let him pay for it completely. Soon, he comes back and says "shall we get going?" And holds out his hand for you to take. You smile and takes his hand as he leads you back to his car.

You two spend the car ride to his house in comfortable silence, your window is rolled down and you take a deep breath as you enjoy the fresh night air. You turn to look at him, and your eyes widen when you see that he is glancing over at you. You smile, "what are you looking at?" It's dark out, but you swear you can see a light blush on his cheeks as he glances back over at you. "You," and this time you can see something in his eyes, but you aren't quite sure what it is. Nonetheless, the look in his eyes and his words is making your heart beat faster, and you can feel a blush start to make its way onto your cheeks. You look away from him, and you can't help but cross your legs as you think about the heated look in his eyes.

Soon you reach his place, and you both get out of the car. You let him open the door, and right as it closes behind you, he pins you to it. You let out a squeak of surprise as he cages you in against the door, his arms on either side of your head. Before you can get a word out, he presses his lips passionately against yours. Your brain short circuits for a few seconds, until realize that he is starting pull away, and you lean forward and kiss him back just as passionately. He makes a noise of surprise, but he groans as he immediately kisses you back. As the kiss gets more heated, you move your hands to the back of his neck, as his hands slowly make their way to your waist.

Slowly he breaks away from the kiss, and you pant for air. He's breathing heavily too, and as soon as his lips leave yours they make a beeline for your neck. You gasp and moan as he starts kissing your neck. You let out a loud whine when his teeth scrape against your neck, and you move your head away from him, allowing him more room. You continue moaning and whining as he starts to leave kisses and marks down your neck. Your hands slowly make their way to his hair, and you let out a gasp as he slots his leg between yours, giving you perfect friction on your clit. You let out a soft moan as you move against his leg, trying to get more friction as he continues to leave marks on your neck. "W-Warrick," you gasp out, causing him to stop his ministrations on your neck. He pulls his head away from your neck and you feel your breath hitch as you look into his eyes.

They're so full of love and compassion, but they're also still full with that heat you saw in them earlier. You can only murmur one word as you look into them. "Bedroom." He seems to understand what you're saying as he picks you up, holding your thighs and ass so you don't fall. He makes the trek down the hallway to his bedroom, and as he reaches the bed, he lays you down onto it and gets on top of you. His lips immediately go back to your neck, this time to the other side, causing you to gasp and giggle. "Baby, what has gotten into you?" He pulls away from your neck again and says, "been pent up, haven't been able to have you all week. I mean sure, I got to see you, but that's not the same as this." He motions between you two. "Couldn't control myself as soon as we got home, I needed to have you sweetheart. Is that okay?" He asks.

You nod and smile. "Absolutely, I ain't gonna lie, I've kind of been feeling the same way this week." His eyes widen at your words, and you can't help but giggle at him. He smirks as soon as he hears you giggle. "Really now?" He asks, as his face moves closer to yours, leaving your lips only a couple of inches apart. You feel your breath hitch at the close proximity and nod as you look down at his lips. He slowly leans in until your lips touch, and you're passionately kissing each other again. As you kiss, you feel his hand slowly make its way under your pants. You let out a whimper as his fingers move under your underwear, and start gently running them along your folds. You break the kiss, "baby-clothes off." You barely get out before you let out another whine. He slowly removes his hand from your pants, as you both get undressed, until you're both naked.

You continue laying on the bed, as he sits above you, and you both can't help but admire each other. You slowly look down at his body, until your eyes see his cock. You gulp and you feel your mouth water, and you feel yourself get wetter just by looking at it. He notices where you're looking and chuckles. "Soon sweetheart." He lets his hand slowly travel down your body until it reaches your folds. You let out a loud moan, as his fingers start moving through your folds again. You let out a mewl as his thumb starts rubbing on your clit as well. You can't help but writhe under him as he continues pleasuring you. He chuckles, "so eager baby, you want more sweetheart?" You nod frantically, not able to form a word from how much pleasure you're feeling. He smiles as he coats his fingers in your arousal, and slowly slides a finger into your pussy.

You let out a broken moan at the feeling of his finger inside you, slowly opening up your pussy for his cock. He smiles at the sight, and continues to move his finger inside you. He slowly adds another finger, and you moan louder as the two fingers stretch you open. He continues moving his two fingers inside you, and as he curls his fingers, he hits a part inside of you that makes you buck your hips against him and and causes you to let out a broken wail. He smirks down at you as he continues to hit that spot, and soon adds a third finger. Soon enough he takes his fingers out, causing you to let out a needy whine. He smiles at the sound.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm gonna give you something better than my fingers in a minute. He spits on his hand, and wraps it around his cock. He lets out a low moan as he moves his hand up and down on his cock, and you can't help but groan at the sight. Soon he positions his cock, and kisses you sweetly as he pushes it inside. You moan, and he lets out a deep gravelly groan when he bottom's out. He stays completely still. "Tell me when I can move sweetheart." You feel your heart melt at his words, and you can't help but kiss him. After a few moments, you break the kiss and nod. "You can move baby." He takes a deep breath and starts off slowly. Only doing slow deep thrusts at first. You both moan as his thrusts slowly speed up. Until he's fucking into you hard and fast. He pants near your ear and whispers, voice low and gravelly. "You like this sweetheart? Does it feel good?" You can't even form a sentence from how good you feel. The only thing you can do is nod your head, causing him to let out a deep laugh. That's until you clench down on him, causing him to let out a hiss. "Fuck, feels so good pretty girl. I don't know how much longer I can hold on for."

One of his hands move down to your clit and starts rubbing it, causing you to let out a desperate wail. He smiles at the sight and thrusts into you harder and faster. "Come for me sweetheart, come on my cock! Come on you can do it! Come!" You let out a loud scream as your vision goes white, and you feel yourself gush around his cock. You slowly come down from your high as he keeps thrusting into you. "Fuck, so tight sweetheart, can't hold back any longer!" A couple of deep thrusts later, he lets out a deep, husky groan as he comes inside you. You feel his hips still, as warmth floods inside you. A few moments later, he separates from you. And you whine as you feel his cock move out of your aching pussy. He gently shushes you. "I know sweetheart, I know." He gently kisses your forehead, "I'll be back in a minute sweetheart."

He goes off to the bathroom, and after a minute he comes back with a warm wet washcloth. He sits beside you and starts gently wiping the mess away. While he's doing it, he's whispering praises to you, and is gently kissing your face. "Did so good," kisses your forehead. "You were perfect," kisses your nose. "So beautiful," kisses both your cheeks. "My good sweet girl," gently kisses you. You gently kiss him back, and smiles sweetly at him. "You were amazing baby," you quietly say. Soon, he finishes cleaning up and you two cuddle. Your head is laying on his chest, as he gently runs his fingers through your hair. This was perfect, especially after the busy week you two had. You look up at him and gently kiss him. "Thank you baby, I needed this." He smiles down at you sweetly, "me too sweetheart." Soon you can't keep your eyes open any longer, and you fall asleep against his chest. What a perfect way to end the week.

[ceescedasticity]

fic: not titled yet but it's another absence of evidence thing, part 1 out of probably 3?

At Narvi's usual greeting question at their monthly meetings — "And what are you working on today, my friend?" — Celebrimbor made a face.

"Something that does not agree with me at all," he said. "I have been writing."

"But you draw runes so beautifully!" Narvi replied, mock-shocked.

"Very funny." Celebrimbor slumped back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "It has occurred to me that if I am going to put my grandfather's star on my city, I should make sure our history has a better account of his descendants than Loremaster Pengolodh has thus far written. Perhaps my father and uncles do not deserve it, but my cousins and my sister do."

Narvi blinked. "I… did not know you had a sister?"

"It seems most people do not. You would think they would deduce I had a mother, but for some reason people seem surprised when I mention her, too. Never mind— Actually, would you mind reading some of my drafts?"

"Not at all."

"I mean to show the finished work to Lady Galadriel, but not… this." Celebrimbor opened a desk drawer — one of the ones with a puzzle-lock — and drew out a sheaf of messy papers. "Here, here's what I have for my mother and sister—"

Curufin wed the jeweler Maltarainë Maltataniel Maltraen Maltheniel Maltwegiel.

"I forgot for a moment that that grandfather did live long enough to take a Sindarin name… We did see him occasionally in Beleriand, but he fell out with Atya — I think Atya made some insensitive remarks about my maternal uncles — and went to follow my uncle Caranthir instead, so we were not close."

Narvi raised his eyebrows. "If I recall the history correctly, the Lord of Thargelion was, ah, not particularly known for sensitivity himself…"

"No. I can only assume my maternal uncles never came up in Caranthir's presence."

As one might expect of the woman Curufin wed, she was a skilled artisan and entirely loyal to Fëanor, as were all her nearest family. Maltraen carried the feud where Nerdanel was unwilling to, among the noblewomen of Tirion. She was as disrespectful to Indis and Anairë as she could get away with, and actively pursued rivalries with Edhellos and Elenwë. Even when there was friendship between Curufin and Angrod, Maltraen and Edhellos remained at odds, though some said there was a kinship buried under the rivalry. And when distance grew between Fëanor and Nerdanel, Maltraen turned against Nerdanel as well.

The paragraph had been written out and struck through twice. "I gather you're not sure about this part?"

"It seems… sordid, I suppose. Like something that would be included to make people think worse of her. It's just so… foundational to how I remember Amil that I don't want to cut it out completely." Celebrimbor sighed. "I don't think Atya even knew how she got about Grandmother in Formenos. She never did it in hearing of him or my uncles — or my grandfather. That would have gone over poorly. Grandfather didn't always speak well of Grandmother, either, but he was the only one permitted to do that."

Narvi would have liked to attribute all this to elvish dysfunctionality, but it strict honesty there were dwarven houses nearly as bad. (Nearly.) Instead of trying to unpack any of it, he asked, "Were Angrod and Edhellos married? I'm not recalling those names."

"What? Oh, yes. Angrod was one of Lady Galadriel's brothers — not Felagund, she had two others — and Edhellos was his wife. They were also Gil-galad's grandparents." Celebrimbor reached for a pen. "I'll at least put in the rivalry with Edhellos. And I should mention Indis and Anairë."

Maltraen carried the feud where Nerdanel was unwilling to, among the noblewomen of Tirion. Her rivalry with Edhellos wife of Angrod was a regular fixture of Finwe's court. Even when there was friendship between Curufin and Angrod, Maltraen and Edhellos remained at odds, though some said there was a kinship buried under the rivalry. Nor was Maltraen a friend to Indis or to the wives of the house of Fingolfin.

"How's that?"

"Easier to understand," Narvi agreed. "Only the wives?"

"She wasn't trying to pick fights with Lady Galadriel or Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, no."

Curufin and Maltraen had a son Celebrimbor; much has already been written of him and he dwells yet in Middle-earth. But they also had a daughter, Heledhwen. She was the delight of everyone in Formenos.

"Not a position I envied her."

All who knew Maltraen wife of Curufin would have predicted she would be among the first to follow Fëanor on his quest, but she was not. Like many of Fëanor's followers, Maltraen was in Formenos when Morgoth came; like all others in Formenos save Finwë himself, she fled from Morgoth's approach. After Morgoth left with the Silmarils, those who had fled dispersed in various ways. Some went to inform Fëanor; some went to seek help; some set up temporary camp. Maltraen was one of those who ventured into the holdfast to see what had happened there. They confirmed Finwë's death and the ransacking of the treasury.

"Where were you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Not at all. I was wasting everyone's time trying to convince my uncle Amras that I was old enough to be part of the perimeter they were setting up."

"How old were you?"

"Old enough, but Amras was the baby of the family and took being older than me very seriously, so he would never admit that. Hence it being a waste of time."

While more messengers went forth, Maltraen remained inside Formenos, to tend to Finwë's body. She was aided by others, some of whom had dealt with bodies before in Cuiviénen or in the aftermath of accidents, but she was there the entire time until Fëanor returned, in near-darkness, in the wreckage.

"I'm not sure I'm… conveying properly, the bravery it took to do that, under those circumstances. The Darkening— Well, I'm not the only one who struggles with that."

Fëanor arrived and screamed wailed howled keened already in the deepest grief and the heights of rage. All heard his cries, but his words He spoke It has not been reported what he said then, to his sons or his law-daughter or the Valar to anyone else.

"…Another difficult paragraph here?"

"Everyone knows he was — very, very affected. I don't want to go on about it unnecessarily, but it was significant… I'm not sure I should use that exact wording, either, because I'm not certain it was never reported. I haven't seen any record of it and no one would report it to me. There were arguments among my uncles over whether he had meant whatever it is that he said, but no one ever told me what that was."

…Ominous.

What is known is that when the Noldor were regrouping in Tirion, Maltraen was overcome with horror: of Morgoth, of the Darkness, and of Fëanor. She could not bring herself to go nearer to any of them.

Celebrimbor's eyes were haunted. "What I was most struck by even then was that my father did not try to argue with or reproach her. I think he knew that if something had happened sufficient to rattle her faith, there would be no mending it with words. Her brothers tried. It went badly."

"These would be the same brothers who your father made insensitive remarks about later?"

"Oh yes."

Maltraen proposed that Heledhwen should remain with her. Curufin might have agreed, save that he felt that darkened, near-abandoned Tirion under the dubious protection of the Valar was surely no safer than the heart of the Noldorin host.

"She didn't ask about you?" Narvi asked. "I suppose being older, and a man…"

"I think she would have wanted me to stay if I had been as young as my sister. As it is… I do not believe anyone ever questioned whether I would go, not even I."

So Curufin brought both his children as the host marched, and after the fighting died down they were called forward to ride through the charnel-house made of Alqualondë's piers to the bloodied swan-ships. Celebrimbor bade Heledhwen close her eyes, but she saw enough to be frightened.

"This leaves out the part where my uncles Amras and Amrod continued to treat me like a child, so I sat with Heledhwen outside the city the whole night instead of finding out whether I had it in me to slay kin."

Narvi didn't think there was anything to say to that, so he patted Celebrimbor's hand and read on.

Maltraen's brothers Maltaparmo and Maltayondo were slain by the defenders of Alqualondë, and their father Maltweg was very wroth.

"The brothers, I see."

"Maltatan was angry about them dying, angry that neither they nor Atya had gotten Amil to leave Tirion, and very angry that Atya said they were asses who'd had one job and botched it."

"What did they do?"

"I never had the nerve to ask."

[viatagrinner]

Gilbert von Obsidian. Chapter 4

As Chevalier's spy, she wants to gather information about the Obsidian prince.

Gilbert put his arm around MC. Fear gripped her body and embarrassment faded into the background.

Gilbert: I'm freezing.

MC: .......I know that.

Gilbert: That was the point.

In his arms she was like a soft toy and the embrace was so strong that she was struggling to breathe.

Gilbert: I'm sensitive to cold, so I always want to feel people's warmth.

(This information...seems useless.)

Perhaps the mystery of Gilbert having no sense of distance has been solved.

Gilbert: I like Miss Bunny because you're warm.

MC: Why don't you wear your winter clothes instead of holding me?

Gilbert: Does it look bad?

The heroine does not want to be misunderstood. A man and a woman hugging each other in a public place... This is enough to cause gossip. The girl tries to pull away, but he only hugs her tighter.

Gilbert doesn't care, but the girl doesn't like it and it hurts her.

Gilbert: Oh, I'm sorry. It's hard to control the force.

He let her go, but not for long. His hand rested on her shoulder.

Choice:

1. ...I'm in trouble.

2. I'll bear it.

3. Let go.

Gilbert loves honesty. So option 3

MC: Let me go.

Gilbert: You're saying that to a guest of state?

She doesn't want to put up with the inconvenience just because he's noble.

Gilbert: Haha, you're so cheeky.

Gilbert: But I like that about you, right?

According to the prince one day she will get used to it and not feel anything.

But by then it will be too late.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

In the carriage.

Leon and Yves are in a bad mood. MC is puzzled. The house was in good condition, and the children were smiling.

Leon: There is nothing wrong with the management itself. It's not as if the children have been treated unreasonably.

Yves adds that it seems to him that they are being raised well until the children leave the orphanage.

Gilbert: Wouldn't this become a business tool for twisted aristocrats with bad taste?

MC: ...What do you mean?

Gilbert explains: Children are orphans. They are perfect for slavery, for hard work. There is no slavery in Rhodolite, but that doesn't change anything. There is the possibility that the children are being sold to aristocrats, using a false family registry.

Leon remarks that Gilbert has a keen eye.

Gil replies that this happens frequently in Obsidian.

Leon has seen dashes on the foster parents' lists, and he believes that many of the names may have been fake.

They need to find children in foster care.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

All four arrive at the baron's house.

Leon asks his assistant Julius where the children are.

Julius: I found the children imprisoned in the basement.

Leon hands the list with the children's names to his assistant.

Julius: You stole the document?

Leon: I didn't steal it, I borrowed it.

Julius: As expected of Prince Leon.

Leon gave orders for all involved to be locked up, not to let anyone go.

Before he left, Julius looked at Gilbert.

(What is it?)

The heroine noticed that the look, though it lasted a moment, was not hostile.

(I wonder what just happened.)

Gilbert: ...What an interesting pet.

MC: Prince Gilbert?

Gilbert: Oh, never mind.

Gilbert: The spectacle is about to begin, so you should concentrate on that.

Yves turns sternly to the Baron aside.

(But how do you know that the Baron was involved in the sale?)

Gilbert explains that someone informed the princes, after which an investigation was conducted.

Gilbert: Before the evidence is destroyed, we pull the documents from the asylum and interrogate the nobleman for dishonesty.

If the royal family is personally involved, no one can refuse to investigate.

(Proof that the domestic political faction listens to the voice of the people).

Gilbert: But aristocrats are creatures who like to fight.

Gilbert: Miss Bunny, if you don't want to die, stay close to me, okay?

The Baron, fearing for his life, rushed to the table and rang the bell.

Armed men burst into the room.

Leon suggests that the Baron belongs to an anti-royalist group.

The baron wants to run away, but the heroine resents this.

The knights are far away, and only she and the three princes are left in the room besides the enemies.

Gilbert, seeing her trying to think of something, notices that there is nothing she can do.

Leon and Yves fight, but the baron escapes. The girl wants to run after him, but is grabbed by Gilbert's hand.

Calling her a fool, Gil explains that the heroine has no physical training, plus she doesn't know the territory to run after a criminal.

MC: I'll set up an ambush.

Gilbert is skeptical. But he's determined to help her.

Gilbert: Because it's my job to help you today.

Leon calls out to her. After shouting to him that all is well and telling him that it will buy them time, she leaves following Gil.

The prince of Obsidian has blocked the baron's way. He did it so deftly, as if he knew the layout of the castle.

The baron is confused. What are they doing here?

Gilbert: Miss Bunny wants to talk to you.

MC tries to appeal to the Baron's conscience.

The aristocrat was a talkative one and gladly agreed to the conversation.

For him, selling children is just business. They should be grateful to have shelter, food and clothing.

A person's value is determined by their birth, by the conditions of their birth.

Baron: In a way, I am charitable because I help these people who have no social status.

After chatting some more, the Baron remembers that he is a criminal and it's time to run away.

He asks to get out of the way, but the heroine refuses.

The Baron pulls out his sword.

Gilbert turns on the mode: "Berserk".

Gilbert: Hey, whose permission are you asking for to touch Miss Bunny?

The cane plunges into the baron's body. He falls. Gil then stomps on the aristocrat's body.

Gilbert: No good. Miss Bunny is my prey.

No one but the prince can hurt her.

Gilbert: "Those of rank have the right to do as they please with those beneath them," right?

Gilbert: Is that what you mean?

The Baron squirms in pain on the floor.

The prince "doesn't understand" why the outlaw has such a displeased face?

Gilbert: Because I have the right to oppress you, just as you oppressed a homeless orphan.

Gilbert: I am royalty and you are a third-class aristocrat. I should tell you the difference in status... right?

(.....Prince Gilbert looks angry.....)

He asks the heroine if he should kill the baron.

These words come off his lips as easily as the suggestion of eating a sweet together.

The criminal should be judged, not killed, that's what MC thinks.

Especially in Rhodolite, criminals are tried.

For Gil, it's a hassle. It's different in Obsidian. Gilbert and the royal family are the law.

The prince tells the baron that he was lucky to live in Rhodolite. In Obsidian he would be dead by now.

Gilbert: We don't need bad nobles defiling innocent children, right?

The Baron is unconscious.

There was no emotion in his red eyes.

It was as cold as Prince Gilbert's body temperature.

MС: ...Prince Gilbert is the same as the Baron.

MC: I mean the words about "those of high status have the right to do as they please with those beneath them."

Gilbert: Hmm... That's what the "imperial family" means.

MC: Your eyes... They don't see a person.

Gilbert smiles.

(There are no people in Prince Gilbert's world.)

(That's why you can't hesitate to "kill" children, and just as you can be kind to children.)

(...A beast in human form.)

Gilbert: Hmm... Do you despise me?

Gilbert: I don't care what you think of me.

Gilbert: I hate people.

Gilbert: I don't love anyone, so you should be careful, too.

Gilbert: Because I'm a beast that can kill you with a smile, right?

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

"Chevalier's Sanctuary"

MC reports on the situation.

Chevalier asks her if she knows another name for Obsidian.

MC: "Land of Ore and War"?

Chevalier: No... "Land of Corruption and Lies/The Land of Corruption and Deceit."

MC: It's not a very good country, is it?

Chevalier: That's just a rumor.

Chevalier: The actual internal situation is unknown. Obsidian is also a country with strict information control.

Well, in a country like Obsidian, it's not surprising, but still being a prince who doesn't like people is bad. That's what the girl was thinking. Chevalier read her thoughts.

Chevalier: I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

Chevalier: I don't see the Patch on the Eye as a human being.

Chevalier: And for you, it should have been a beast to begin with, not a person. By admitting that, you're protecting yourself.

MC thinks that she herself is like Gilbert in that sense. She doesn't see him as human.

MC: I did a bad thing...

Chevalier: An enemy is an enemy.

The heroine thinks that if it hadn't been for Gilbert she would have been hurt. And she didn't even thank him.

Chevalier: You don't have to feel guilty. ....Even if I say so, it's useless.

Chevalier flicked her forehead, smiling.

Chevalier: You can use the palace kitchen as you like.

Chevalier: But still... "I hate people" doesn't sound like the words of someone who hates deceit.

MC would like to understand his words.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Gilbert's Masterlist

[otherworldseekers]

Something's Gotta Give: chapter 6 part 1

This has been a long time coming but for some reason I've just really struggled getting words out. Anyway, this is the First Kiss scene so please enjoy.

Picking up from the previous chapter, Severia and Nero are still at the Gold Saucer Charity Gala. Godbert Manderville has decided to auction a dance with Severia to raise money without her permission or knowledge causing Severia to panic. Nero leads her out of the ballroom to look for a place they can escape to without being observed for a little while.

Something's Gotta Give Masterpost

Severia picked up her skirts and together they raced up the stairs. Nero tried the first two doors but only found a broom closet and then a lavatory. Then he tried the third. It led out onto a wide balcony overlooking the vast starlit deserts of Thanalan from a considerable height. But it looked safe enough. Hopefully no one would think to look for them here. Nero closed the doors and leaned back against them. For a few minutes they stood side by side, fingers still woven together. 

“Are you all right?” Nero asked. 

“I think so,” she said, as her thumping heart slowly calmed. She looked down at their clasped hands, the embarrassment of it warring with her desire just then for the comfort of his presence. 

Nero broke the contact, putting his hands in his pockets, and strolling over to take a seat on the railing around the balcony.  “That old man certainly has some gall.”

“You don’t have any idea,” Severia said with a sigh. “The Mandervilles are… not generally bothered by mortal concerns. And to be honest, I’m more than a little afraid of him.”

“You?” 

“Yes, me,” Severia said with a half-hearted laugh. “I’m afraid of all kinds of things.” Wrapping her arms around herself, Severia walked out towards the balcony’s far edge and turned her face up to the moon. 

Nero felt enchanted by the sight. His eyes traced the lines of her bare shoulders, the expanse of her tantalizing back, the subtle curve of her hips beneath the silken dress, all limned by moonlight. Something about the way she looked, framed against the night sky, took his breath away. Without her armor and weapons, without the hat she always hid beneath, she looked very fragile, like something out of a dream. He had the urge to hold onto her so that she wouldn’t disappear, to embrace her and feel her realness, to take all her fears away and make her look only at him. And when her head tilted back in his direction, her eyes shining in the night like two red stars, he found himself breathless at her beauty. 

“Gil for your thoughts, Nero?” she asked him. 

“Hero, I am insulted. My thoughts are worth far more than 1 gil.”

Severia turned to face him squarely, her arms crossed over her chest. “The value of a product is determined by what the market is willing to pay. Since I am the market, you’ll have to give me some kind of evidence that their value exceeds my offer.”

“Very well, but you asked for it,” Nero said with a wry smile. “I was thinking that I want very badly to kiss you right now.”

Severia took a startled step backward. “W- what?”

Nero chuckled in amusement. “Surely you are familiar with the concept of a kiss?”

“Of course I am!” she retorted. “It’s just not at all what I expected you to say!” Her cheeks flushed prettily. 

“I see. Then you are not necessarily averse to the suggestion?”

“I mean… in theory… But I’ve never… never…” 

Nero’s eyebrow rose in surprise. “Never been kissed? I find that hard to believe.”

“I’ve never wanted to be kissed,” Severia said in self defense. “I don’t see the point.”

“The point, my dear hero, is that the sensation is extremely pleasant.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Would you like to see for yourself?”

Severia’s mouth gaped. The audacity of the man! Did he really think she was that easy? Only… only now she found her gaze going to his lips, curved into his trademark smirk, and wondering, for the first time, what they might feel like. 

“Possibly… Possibly I might be interested in seeing what all the fuss is about. As an experiment.”

Nero grinned. “Excellent. I offer myself as your test subject.”

“Right now?” she asked weakly. 

“No time like the present for a little experimentation. Wouldn’t you agree?” He took a few steps closer to her, hands safely tucked into his pockets, slowly so as not to startle her too much. She looked alarmed, but she didn’t retreat. He considered that a positive sign. He watched as her eyes darted around, unsure but considering. 

Then she answered in a soft voice. “All right.”

Nero felt his heartbeat quicken. He hadn’t actually expected her to accept. He’d thought this flirtation would end in the typical impasse. She still looked uncertain, but also interested. He needed to proceed carefully. When he had managed to close the distance between them, he reached out to tilt her head back and make her lips accessible. It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself studying her lips, wanting to touch them. He let his thumb run over her luscious lower lip.

Under his heated gaze Severia felt her reticence transform into a sharp ache of desire. “What are you waiting for?” she whispered. 

“Impatient are we?” Nero teased. “The anticipation is part of the experience.” 

“I’d rather just get it over with.”

“No confidence in my abilities?”

“Should I have? You seem to be stalling.”

Perhaps he was. Some part of him was inexplicably nervous. It’s just a kiss, he told himself. And she’s just a woman. But he felt the lie as soon as he thought it. Severia Zetsuen was like no one else and he wanted her like he’d never wanted anyone else before. 

Before he could continue wavering, Nero leaned over her and brushed his lips softly against hers. A fleeting touch, but a promise of more, if she wanted. She met his gaze as he pulled back, looking thoughtful. 

“Is that it?” she asked, eyes wide and innocent. 

Only she could make such a palpable hit to his ego. “Not enough for you?” Nero said in exasperation. 

“From the way people talk I just expected something more… spectacular.”

Nero ran a hand through his hair. If she let him, he would show her spectacular. “I was trying not to take any liberties. Naturally not all kisses are equal. There’s the question of length, of pressure, and what other parts of the body become involved, among other things. If you would like to approach this in a scientific fashion, I am more than willing to demonstrate all of the above.”

“What do you mean, other parts of the body?” 

He had to remind himself to take these revelations slowly. There were things she was by no means ready for. “A kiss does not involve the lips alone. One is generally touching one’s partner in other ways during a kiss. For instance, I might wrap one arm around your waist and use the other to cradle your neck. All these points of contact provide additional levels of sensation.” Nero acted out his words, pulling her close against his body before leaning over her. The difference in their sizes was an interesting obstacle to overcome, he’d never been with anyone so small before, but he found that he enjoyed it. The way she looked up at him, eyes shining and lips slightly parted in expectation…

Where the first kiss had been light as a whisper, this one swept through Severia like a spring breeze; fresh, new and invigorating. Nero’s lips were both firm and unexpectedly tender against hers. And they lingered. The first kiss had been brief as a breath, but now Nero gave himself time to relish the softness of her lips before he pulled away. 

“I see what you mean,” Severia said when they had parted, sounding slightly dazed. “That was very different.”

“Did you like it?”

Her eyes fixed onto his chest as she mumbled her response. “Um… I think… perhaps… That is… it was…”

“Well, if you’re uncertain, we can try again. I wouldn’t want to leave your curiosity unsatisfied.”

“You think you just get to kiss me as many times as you want?” Severia protested instinctively.

“No, I think I get to kiss you as many times as you want me to,” said Nero smoothly, cupping her cheek in his palm so that she couldn’t look away. “You do want me to, don’t you, Severia?”

She wanted to say “no” and wipe that smug look off his face. If she had been at all uncertain she would have. But it was too blatant a lie. She was hooked on the tantalizing promise of more contact, more sensation, more of Nero’s lips and hands. And it was with a sudden shock that she realized she couldn’t have done this with anyone else. That as much as the man angered and exasperated her, he attracted and excited her in equal measure. He made her want things she never had before. 

The thought frightened her and for a moment she almost managed to pull away. But she remembered Nero’s words from earlier… For just tonight, I am only Nero and you are only Severia… Then perhaps, just for tonight, she could allow herself these desires. Tomorrow she could go back to being the Warrior of Light and he could go back to being a questionable ally. Tonight they could simply be two people seeking the pleasure of each other’s company. 

Letting herself relax against him, Severia moved her hands to grip the lapels of his jacket. “You’re very annoying when words are coming out of your mouth,” she said as she pulled his head back down towards her. 

“You’d like me to use it for something else?” Nero smirked, his lips just ilms from hers. 

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Nero didn’t need to be told twice. His arms tightened around her as he captured her lips, eliminating any chance of escape. Gently, he coaxed her lips apart so he could taste her more deeply and, gods, she was delicious. Severia released a delighted little gasp. 

“Nero…” Severia’s hands moved up around his neck. How she longed to be able to touch him, to feel his skin under her fingers. The brief glimpse of his body the day before taunted her. She mentally cursed men’s fashion for covering him from neck to toe while she was so inequitably exposed. 

When her fingers curled into the back of his hair, Nero broke the kiss with a rough moan that thrilled through her in ways she couldn’t describe. Up onto her tiptoes she went, reaching to return his kiss as best she could. She didn’t want him to pull away. Not yet. 

But the insufferable man was not done talking. 

“My, my,” he purred. “It would seem you don’t dislike me so much after all.”

Severia huffed in frustration, barely conscious of the fact that her hands still rested on his chest. “If you think this means you win that stupid bet you forced me into…”

Nero laughed. “You don’t think kissing me like that is evidence of a more favorable opinion?”

“What do you mean, ‘like that’?”

“I mean, oh scintillating Severia, that if this is really the first time you’ve done this, then those lips of yours are truly talented. I’m quite swept off my feet.”

“Well, that has nothing to do with me. I was merely curious.” Severia tried to gently pull away but he held onto her. She didn’t struggle. 

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sated?”

And something about the curve of his lips as he said it sent a rush of heat through her body. But it dissipated just as quickly and she shivered. Nero’s lips turned downward. 

“You must be cold,” he said. “Here.” He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. 

Severia clung to the lapels of the jacket, grateful that he had forgotten his other question because she didn’t know how to answer it. Was her curiosity sated? Yes, amply. Was she sated? Her body was screaming ‘no’. Every fiber of her being wanted more, wanted to see what would happen next, wanted to surrender itself to him. His hands were resting lightly on her shoulders, but she couldn’t feel his skin through the jacket, and it was driving her crazy. He was driving her crazy. 

And yet, it wasn’t as if it was unpleasant, this feeling. She leaned her forehead against his chest as she teetered on the brink of saying things she would almost certainly come to regret. 

“Are you all right?” To her surprise there was nothing but concern in his voice. 

Severia took a deep breath. “I need to know… Why did you want to kiss me?”

There was a whole story in the way she spoke the words. This was a woman who had no idea of her own value. Who was somehow oblivious to the fact that she was intensely desirable. And how could that possibly be? How could such a beautiful, intelligent, extraordinary woman be so ignorant that she was worthy of adoration? 

Nero lifted her chin once more and cupped her cheek as she gazed up at him with wide eyes. “Have I not been obvious enough? Severia Zetsuen, how could I not want to kiss you?”

His lips began to descend toward her uplifted mouth once more and Severia felt her heart flutter in anticipation. But before contact could be made, the balcony doors crashed open and through them stepped Godbert Manderville.

[writethrough]

Hi, how are you. Can I request a Malcolm Bright imagine. Reader is kinda like a female Sherlock Holmes or an member of behavioral analysis unit from criminal minds…… Angst to fluff….

thank you

Little Parts

(Malcolm Bright x Female Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of murder, kidnapping, abuse, death, violence (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 3315

A/N: Thank you for this request! I chose to go the BAU route. Though I didn't necessarily mention Criminal Minds, I do use the lingo. I had a lot of fun writing this one and I definitely did not expect my OC Nancy to have as big of a presence as she does. I do think I need to work on my angst. I love reading it, but writing it is a different story. I hope you enjoy it!

Nancy Whitmore had murdered six people: five women and the husband who came home early and found his wife mid-abduction. Two shots to the chest, the first time Nancy ever used the gun she held to force the women to come with her.

Those two gunshots were what started this all. Nancy had panicked and fled with the wife, not worrying about the scene she left behind.

When the NYPD connected this to the other missing women, they called you. As skillful as Gil and his team were, your expertise would be invaluable.

And it was. So invaluable, in fact, that Nancy Whitmore knew she had to do something.

—

The bullpen was abuzz with every available person preparing for tonight. Nancy had escalated since word got out that a profiler had joined the investigation. And if you were right, there would be another victim before midnight. You had to get her before then.

“We know she stays within this area,” Gil said, tapping a marker in the circle he drew. “And we’ve released a statement telling everyone to stay indoors when it’s dark.”

“Staying home isn’t going to prevent our unsub from kidnapping who she wants,” you said. “We’ve seen her murder outside of her preference when cornered. I doubt that’s changed.”

“Everyone else is just a means to an end,” Malcolm said.

You nodded.

It hadn’t taken long for you to figure out these women represented Nancy’s mother. From what you gathered, Mrs. Whitmore ruled her household with an iron fist. No one, her husband or her children, was safe from the abuse she inflicted.

Nancy’s father protected Nancy from his wife, but once he died, Nancy had to step up and protect her younger brother. The brother's death at the tragic age of twenty-five was the catalyst for all of Nancy’s crimes.

“As long as Nancy feels the need to protect others from her mother, it doesn’t matter who gets in her way. Nothing's going to stop her from reaching that goal,” you said, rubbing your temple.

“What I don’t understand is how she can’t remember that her mother is dead.” JT’s frustration was evident.

“She’s blocked so much out. Her brother’s passing triggered her, and the only explanation she could come up with was that her mother murdered him,” you explained. Nancy’s brother died in a freak accident at his job. A cable snapped at the construction zone, and that’s all it took for his life to be taken. Nancy’s trauma filled in the blanks and then some. She thought her mother had returned or that she didn't actually die, and Nancy had to do the one thing she’s been doing since she was thirteen—survive.

“We need to figure out where she is. We have patrol cars at every address of hers, but not one of them has seen her.” Gil dragged both hands down his face.

“It’s getting late. What if Nancy already has her next victim?” Dani asked.

“It’s possible,” you said. “But even with Nancy's escalations, she follows a pattern. She grabs them once it’s dark, not before, and she keeps them alive for three days. She has to follow that.”

“I hate to say this, but if worse comes to worst, we have seventy-two hours to find her and the vic,” JT said.

You nodded, stifling a yawn.

Gil gave you an empathetic look. “I know we still have a ways to go, but none of us will be any help if we don’t get some sleep.” He paused, scanning the four of you. “We’ll take shifts. Some of us should be here if anything happens.”

“I’ll stay,” Malcolm said.

You weren’t surprised. It didn’t take a profiler to know Malcolm Bright was an insomniac.

“Me too,” Dani said. “Go tuck your kid in.” She nodded to JT, who gave her a grateful smile.

“Alright, you two, go home. I’ll call you if we hear anything.” Gil gestured for you to leave.

You were about to protest when Malcolm cut in.

“We’ll be fine.” He leveled you with a look. “You’ve been going since you landed two weeks ago. A few hours of rest will only help us catch our suspect sooner.”

You sighed, knowing he and Gil were right.

“Fine,” you said. The clock read 8 PM. “But I’ll be back here by midnight.”

A bit more than three hours should be a good enough power nap.

Malcolm gave you a gentle smile. “Wouldn’t have expected anything different.”

—

You and Malcolm had taken to each other like fish to water.

You had arrived at the crime scene and met everyone except Malcolm, who had been running late.

Edrisa had finished her preliminary evaluation when he walked up to you, speaking to anyone who would listen about his theory on how the vic ended up here. Every part was pretty plausible, but one.

“Everything about our killer is tactful. She doesn’t let her anger get the best of her because she can’t afford to. There’s more at stake for her,” you said.

It was like you pulled him back to reality. His brow furrowed, and he finally registered that you were new.

“She?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Like I said, I don’t see anger when I look at this woman’s wounds. I don’t even see pleasure. How many male serial killers do you know that you can say that about?”

Malcolm couldn’t help but think about his father. The person who took more pleasure in his work than anyone he knew.

“SSA (Y/N) (L/N).” You held out your hand.

He gave you his name. You didn’t bat an eye. It made him think—hope—you had no idea who he was. It was a day later that hope came crashing down.

“You know who my father is?” His eyes widened, a pang resounding in his heart.

You shrugged. “Course I do. Did you really think I wouldn’t read up on the team I’d be consulting with?”

“Well, no. I just thought maybe you’d focus on the case more.” Malcolm couldn’t look you in the eyes. And your heart went out to him. He’d probably been judged by his father’s actions his entire life.

“We’re not our parents, Malcolm,” you said gently. “If we were, I’d be a cheating accountant or a bitter middle school teacher.”

“Those are two very different professions from dear-old Dad,” he said.

“Yeah, they are, but the point is everyone has a shitty little part of themselves that they keep hidden. And some of us do a better job than others.”

“And what shitty little part are you hiding?” He tried to disguise it as a joke. However, he also desperately wanted to know the truth. He wanted to know if maybe, just maybe, you were a little like him.

A smirk tugged at your lips. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

—

The taxi to Dani’s apartment dropped you off a block away. Traffic in the city was no joke, and you weren’t about to pay to sit in line for who knows how long.

You and Dani had attended the academy together. When she found out you’d be consulting with them, she offered you a place to stay. The problem was she only had one key, and you’d typically carpool to and from the precinct.

Pulling out your phone, you clicked on her number.

“Everything okay?” She greeted you, concerned.

“Yeah, but I may have to pick the lock to your door,” you said, trying to remember if you had a bobby pin in your bag.

“Shit. I completely forgot.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve kinda been focusing on more important things,” you said. 

“I can run it over to you. We haven’t gotten any calls yet, and it’s not like my place is far,” she said.

“That’d be great. It’s been a minute since I had to break in somewhere,” you joked.

“Okay, I’m on my way.” Her voice sounded like she was facing the other direction, but you still caught it. “Everything’s fine. She forgot to take my key.”

There was a brief silence as whoever responded, and then she was back.

“Your boyfriend’s concern is touching, but you should tell him to cool it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “My boyfriend?”

“Malcolm.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing.

Unconsciously, you caught the steps of someone jogging behind you and moved to the right out of their way.

“Malcolm and I are just friends,” you said, thankful to be alone as heat surfaced to your cheeks.

“Yeah, and what about the dumb smiles and little glances you give each other,” Dani asked. You could hear her smirk through the phone.

“I don’t give him dumb smi—”

—

The unmistakable crack of metal hitting something bounced through Dani’s head as she rushed back to the precinct. Everyone had returned and convened in the conference room after she had called them.

Malcolm paced as he ran through everything they knew about Nancy.

She abducts women from their homes, taking them away from the place they have power. Three days later, the women are found beside dumpsters, handcuffed. It was Nancy’s way of handing over her mother to the police. Deep down, she believed she was helping.

Malcolm shook his head. That didn’t make sense for you. There was no telling what Nancy would do now that she had you. The only hope Malcolm had was where you were abducted outside of Dani’s apartment—outside of your temporary home.

The clock was ticking, except they didn’t know how long the timer was set for.

They had to find you.

Malcolm had to find you.

—

Nancy paced in front of you. She hadn’t said a word. You weren’t entirely sure she knew you were awake.

By the looks of the beams of light pouring through the slats of wood, it was early morning. You’d been out for a few hours. Hopefully, the team had a decent start on finding you.

Your arms were cuffed behind your back, and the metal chair you sat on dug into your biceps. Nancy had even tied your ankles to the legs.

You had to find a way out. There was no telling what Nancy would do now that she had you—to you or to a potential victim.

She was unraveling, and you had to make it seem like you understood her. You had to stay calm. She had to think you were on her side. If at any point she felt threatened, you’d be done.

“Why did you have to get in the way?” She mumbled it as if to herself, then repeated it louder, frustration baring her teeth.

“I was asked to,” you said, trying to make yourself smaller.

She had to believe she was in control.

She rubbed her face roughly. “You could’ve said no. You should’ve stayed away! But you had to stick your nose into family business! She’s gonna hurt someone because of you!”

Angry tears lined her eyes. You made sure to look down in shame. You had to make her think you were submitting.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you whispered.

She stepped closer until you could smell her breath.

“I don’t believe you.”

You didn’t see her raise her hand, but you felt the searing heat of the bullet rip through you.

—

“What if she’s already dead, Gil!” Malcolm asked, staring at the man, willing him to see that they had to find you.

“You know you can’t think like that,” Gil responded. “(Y/N) is a seasoned agent. She’s been trained for this. You need to trust that she knows what she’s doing.”

“It’s not (Y/N) that I don’t trust. Nancy has deviated so far from her usual targets. There’s no telling what she’s done or will do to her.”

“Fine. You’re right, but panicking won't help (Y/N). You need to take a deep breath and work this case with the rest of us. Got it?” Gil was leaning forward, hands on his desk and eyes pleading with Malcolm.

He’d finally nodded after exhaling loudly through his nose.

“Good. Now tell me why Nancy is doing all this," Gil said slowly, urging Malcolm to do what he did best.

—

The pain in your shoulder made it harder to concentrate.

You weren’t sure if she meant to hit you there, and that thought didn’t comfort you. Nancy was spiraling, making your stomach churn at the possibility of not getting you or her out alive.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she had whispered as she wrapped your shoulder. She had said that so many times you were starting to repeat it in your mind. You had begun to believe it, and then she did this. She showed you a little light that maybe she wasn’t that far gone.

Maybe you could still help her.

—

They were so close.

They’d been able to piece together where Nancy was keeping her victims. And they were on their way, sirens off so as not to scare her.

You had to be alive. Malcolm didn’t know what he’d do if you weren’t.

The small shed they arrived at looked ready to collapse.

After Gil announced their presence, you appeared out the door. Nancy followed, gun pressed to your head.

“She needs to be stopped!” Nancy cried.

“Your mother is dead, Nancy! She’s gone. You’re safe,” Malcolm said, keeping his voice calm.

“No! She’s not! She keeps coming back!” Hysteria crept into her tone. You had to do something.

“Nancy,” you said. “I promise, if you let me go and go with them, they will get you help. You’ll never see your mother again.”

She let out a pitiful whine. “You can’t know that. She’s always there. She won’t leave us alone.”

“Nancy.” You tried to make your voice as soothing as possible. “Have I ever lied to you?”

This seemed to stump her. She was quiet for a few moments.

You looked around. Malcolm and the team watched you both, waiting for any sign that she’d take things too far.

Malcolm’s fists were clenched like he wanted nothing more than to rip you away from Nancy and shelter you in his arms. If only it could happen that easily.

“No,” Nancy finally whispered, letting the realization settle in her bones. “No.”

Her hold slowly loosened on you, and the gun lowered until it hit the ground.

You turned to her.

“It’s going to be alright,” you said as JT cuffed her and read her her rights.

You hadn’t noticed Malcolm had come up behind you until your arms were freed. You hissed, the wound in your shoulder flaring up and dizzying you.

He kept a hand on your back as Nancy was led away.

“Come on. We need to get you checked out,” he said, ushering you to the ambulance.

You nodded, his voice coming through fuzzy. Now that you were out of danger, everything hit you all at once. The kidnapping, the pain, the fact that you could’ve died.

Your body was heavy.

The last thing you remembered was Malcolm’s arms around you as you fell.

—

You opened your eyes to the darkness out your window. The smell of the hospital and the beeping of your heart monitor told you where you were.

Slowly, you turned your head to face the other direction and met Malcolm’s exhausted eyes.

“Hey.” He said it softly as if you were still sleeping. “How are you feeling?”

You missed the way his fingers twitched toward your hand.

“Tired,” you said.

He nodded. “Get some rest. I’ll let the doctors know you were up.”

He placed his hands on his thighs to push himself up, but you stopped him.

“Sit with me for a bit? While I’m still awake.” The sight of Malcolm comforted you the longer you were conscious and the more you remembered. You didn’t want to be alone.

“Okay,” he said.

You lifted your fingers as if reaching for him.

“I think you’re supposed to be holding my hand,” you hummed. You could blame your bravery on the morphine later.

He chuckled and ducked his head but pulled his chair closer to your bedside and slipped his hand into yours.

“Better?”

“Much,” you whispered. Your grip was weak, but Malcolm could still tell when you tried to squeeze his hand.

His under eyes seemed darker than usual, and instead of his hands trembling, his index finger grazed your inner wrist in a steady back and forth.

“When did you last sleep?” you asked. You wanted to stay awake. You wanted to live in this bubble with him before reality set in. It didn’t matter how long you’d been out or the questions you’d be asked. All that mattered was being here and having him close.

He shrugged. “A few days ago.” He paused. “I was preoccupied.”

With finding you.

You let out a slow breath. “Sorry to be such a bother.”

He heard the edge of teasing in your tone, but he couldn’t let even a smidge of you think that.

“You could never be a bother. Just don’t go getting kidnapped again, will you? I’d prefer it if you were out of harm's way,” he said.

“I’ll try my best. Maybe you should put out a statement. Make sure all the bad guys know.” This time the teasing was prevalent.

“I think I can put up a few billboards.” He tried to fight the smile forming. “I’ll even have Ainsley do a whole segment.”

You chuckled until the pain in your side made you stop.

“The doctor said you have a concussion,” Malcolm said, brow furrowing in concern.

“Nancy hit me with something.” You steadied your breathing.

“You don’t need to worry about her anymore. Just getting better.”

You weren’t sure if he noticed that he was squeezing your hand, but you didn’t mind. It grounded you. And the way Malcolm was staring at you set your heart fluttering. And the damn heart monitor was giving you away.

Malcolm looked at it, then you. “Are you okay? Should I get a nurse?”

You shook your head. “No. No, I’m fine. Promise.”

“If something’s hurting, you need to tell me,” he insisted.

You bit the inside of your lip, debating whether or not what you were about to say was a good idea.

“That’s not why it did that,” you whispered, avoiding his eyes.

“...What do you mean?”

You glanced up at him through your lashes. “I mean…you make me nervous.”

He tilted his head, still not seeming to get it.

“I don’t understand. Do I make you uncomfortable?” He was about to pull his hand away, but you kept your hold.

“You make me nervous because I like you,” you said, giving him a shy smile. “And according to Dani, you like me, too?”

“I…well, of course, I do. I just figured nothing could come out of this since you’d be back to Quantico…” The blush was evident on his cheeks, and it made you all the more smitten.

“After this? A cushy 9-5 sounds incredible,” you said. “But I’m willing to try if you are.”

He grinned, leaning his elbows on the bed. “Where should our first date be?”

You answered him with a smile of your own. “Go find us some jello, and I’ll say yes to a second.”

He stood, still smiling, and was going to leave until he bent down to kiss your forehead.

“Be right back,” he whispered, thumb coming up to brush your cheek.

For a moment, you leaned into his hand with closed eyes. The subtle motion of his finger lulled you into a sense of peace.

You hummed, sinking further into the bed.

By the time Malcolm returned, you were fast asleep. He took up his position by your side again and started making a mental list of where he should take you for your second date.

[eva-cybele]

moment's silence (explicit)

Aymeric was in an uncharacteristically foul mood. House Dzemael had leveraged its considerable influence in the House of Lords to block a new tax proposal that would have seen more gil allotted for the reconstruction of the Brume, he had uncovered some evidence that a few of his knights were harrassing foreign travelers, and he had less than half a bell before he would have to sit in on yet another meeting with the heads of the Church and likely make as much progress as he had the past several meetings – that is to say, none at all.

He raked one gloved hand through his hair and took a deep breath through his nose, attempting to marshal some sort of composure over his steadily blackening thoughts, when a knock sounded against the door to the Seat of the Lord Commander.

Irritation flashed through him again, renewed in its intensity. Half a bell, he had instructed the guard at his door that he was not to be bothered for half a bloody bell, and not five minutes into it, he already had a visitor.

He opened his mouth, unsure of whether the impulse to turn them away or the compulsion to hear what must, apparently, be very important business, when the door opened of its own accord.

The list of people in his life who dared enter his office without waiting for his acknowledgement was terribly short, and he braced himself for whatever mess Handeloup was about to drop in his lap, even as a tiny flame of hope flickered to life amongst the gloom of his day so far.

Like the sun breaking through the clouds, Kaede stepped through his door and closed it behind her.

Aymeric ran through a brief but passionate prayer of thanks to the Fury in his head as the love of his life strode across his office to lean over his desk, a somewhat impish smile playing on her lovely mouth. He wanted to stand and go to her, but the view afforded him at the moment was too good to move away from – the blouse she wore was significantly lower cut than her usual attire, and her arms folded beneath her breasts pushed them up in a way that could only be purposeful. So instead, he leaned forward and braced his hands on his knees, a smile blooming across his face as he met – and attempted to hold his gaze steadily on – her eyes.

“Gods, it’s good to see you.” The relief that colored his voice was stronger than normal, and Kaede’s expression shifted from coquettish to concerned, her eyebrows rising slightly.

“Bad day, love?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t warrant wasting breath on the recounting.” The very last thing he wanted was to spend precious time with her talking about obnoxious old nobles and stubborn bishops.

Kaede pushed herself to her feet, fully rounding his desk and placing herself between it and him, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He couldn’t help but run an appreciative eye over her as she leaned back against his desk, comfortably within arm’s reach, but he didn’t dare put his hands on her, for fear he might never stop. “’Tis merely politics, I’m afraid. Full well do I wish it was aught else, that might be solved by someone else, or something other than endless discussion.”

She took another step forward, standing close enough that he could feel her legs brush against the inside of his thighs, looking deep into his eyes. “I did not mean Ishgard, Aymeric. I meant is there anything I can do to help you?”

Oh. A small chuckle escaped him as he lost his battle with his self-control and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer. “Your presence has already vastly improved my mood, I assure you. I have a meeting with the Church in half a bell, but perhaps tonight…?”

Kaede stiffened slightly in his arms, and any brightness her appearance had granted him was swept away, replaced by a storm of frustration, as she spoke aloud what he already knew, “Unfortunately, I am expected in Ul’dah this evening.”

He leaned forward and buried his face against the side of her neck, groaning in annoyance. Hands ran through his hair, her nails dragging gently over his scalp, as she spoke again in a lower voice. “I was hoping to steal an afternoon, but if all we have is half a bell, then so be it.” Her hand found purchase against his shoulder and lightly pushed him back against the back of his chair.

He opened his mouth to ask what she meant – ‘twas not enough time to go home, and there were rather too many people in the Congregation still for any ilicit uses of his desk – but his tongue froze in his mouth when she sank, gracefully, to her knees before him.

The heaviness between his legs that had been present since her arrival grew suddenly unbearable, and he was distantly glad he was sitting down as the rush of desire left him light-headed in its wake.

Still, the practical side of his mind managed to assert itself despite the protestations of his body, and he dropped a hand to the top of her head as she shoved his coat out of the way and began picking free the lacing of his trousers. “Kaede – my love, please don’t misunderstand me – but is this wise?”

Bright blue eyes locked onto his as she leaned a cheek against his inner thigh, a sparkle of mischief in them. “Wise? No, probably not. But your desk is tall enough to hide me, is it not? The burden will be on you to act as if nothing is amiss. Plus,” she brushed her lips over the still-clothed bulge in his partially-undone pants, causing another spike of desire to lance through him, “I have been dreaming about your cock for three days now, and I refuse to wait any longer.”

Any protests he might have managed to make died unspoken on his lips as he dropped his head back against the solid wood of his chair.

Gods. She was going to kill him.

His cock sprang free into the cool air as she finished with the laces, and a shiver – half anticipation, half cold – ran through him as he watched her, enraptured. She sat back on her heels to admire her handiwork for a moment, then locked eyes with him as she ran her tongue, slowly, along the underside, from base to tip.

A deep groan threatened to rip itself free from his throat, and Aymeric hastily slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle it. The walls of the Congregation were thick, yes, but not that thick.

Kaede chuckled, then pressed another chaste kiss against the side of his shaft, still looking at him. “Have I ever told you,”she began, and then interrupted herself with another brush of her lips over sensitive, throbbing flesh, “that I think,” another and gods he was going to go insane, “that your cock is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen?”

His mind abruptly blanked at the unexpected praise, and it took him a moment to realize that the demon woman between his legs was actually waiting for a response. Taking a long, deep breath through his nose, Aymeric dropped his hand from his mouth to the back of Kaede’s head, stroking her hair. “Perhaps, once or twice,” he murmured.

‘Twas unusual for his wife to speak overmuch when she could put her mouth to – according to her – better uses, but she had apparently woken up with a mind to drive him out of his mind.

“Well, it bears repeating.” An absolutely devious grin broke across her features, and Aymeric’s heart jumped into his throat in anticipation at the sight. “Thick, but not so thick that I can’t do this –” and then she took him in her mouth, deep, until the tip of his cock brushed the back of her throat, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise that was altogether unholy. Unable to help himself, he clenched his hand in her hair as she worked lips and tongue over him, all his concentration on keeping his hips still and his damned traitor mouth firmly shut.

Of course, of course, that was the moment the Fury chose to spite him, specifically, and another knock thumped heavily against his door.

Kaede froze, her eyes snapping up to his in challenge, as she relaxed her mouth around him but – gods damn her – did not release him. For one long heartbeat, he stared down at her, and then took a deep, shuddering breath, moving his coat to cover her head with hands that only barely shook, before settling them on the arms of his chair.

He cleared his throat, and called out a somewhat-hoarse “Yes?”

The man stationed to guard his office today – and in Aymeric’s ruffled state, he could not manage to remember the man’s name – stepped in and saluted sharply. “Apologies, Lord Commander, I know you instructed that you were not to be disturbed, but we received word from the Vault that today’s conference has been canceled, due to illness of one of the bishops you were to meet with. I thought that you would like to know as soon as possible.”

Halone had a sense of humor as wicked as his wife’s today, apparently.

Aymeric gave the man a sharp nod. “That is much appreciated, thank you. I will be heading home within the bell, then. You are dismissed.”

The knight saluted yet again, and then hesitated, casting eyes around the room. Too late, Aymeric realized that this was the man who had admitted Kaede to his office not ten minutes prior, and had not seen her leave.

Squaring his jaw and doing his absolute damnedest to ignore the wet heat that still surrounded his cock, Aymeric raised an eyebrow at the man. “Is there something else?”

“I thought that…” He trailed off, and abruptly averted his eyes, stammering in embarrassment. “Ah…no, ser. Apologies for disturbing you, Lord Commander, ser. Excuse me.” With that, the young knight all but fled Aymeric’s office, closing the heavy door behind him.

The door had barely settled in its frame when his hand found the back of Kaede’s head again, this time pulling her up to claim her mouth with his own, hungry and nearly shaking with supressed need. His other hand delved into her shirt, cupping one breast and rolling its peak between his fingers, gratified at the way her swollen lips gasped against his mouth.

When she broke the kiss, looking perhaps a touch less composed than she had, Aymeric let out a breathless laugh. “My love, have you gone utterly mad?”

Kaede wrinkled her nose at him in amusement, but made no move to pull away from his wandering hands. “Fine words from the man who once carried on a conversation with Artoirel de Fortemps with three fingers buried inside me.”

The memory dragged a smile to his face, and he made to pull her more firmly onto his lap. “Point taken. Gods. I have half a mind to take you right here, and damn the consequences. Thank the Fury we have time to go home before we scandalize any more of my knights.”

Small but deceptively strong hands braced against his shoulders, and Kaede dropped her head, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Let me finish what I started first? Please?”

Aymeric swallowed, hard, against the tidal wave of desire that rose up in him again. Everything in him wanted her spread out under him, open and aching and gasping out his name, wanted her as undone as she’d made him… but he could deny her nothing.

In lieu of a response, he drew her back into a kiss, gentler this time, and then released her to settle back in his chair.

As she took her place before him again, she favored him with a beautifully warm smile. “I have wanted to do this for years, you know. I used to get so distracted when we’d have to meet you here, unable to think of anything but how well I’d fit between your knees.”

She had mentioned, in the past, how distracting she occasionally found the way he sat, but Aymeric had no idea that the fascination ran so deep or so long. His cock throbbed and ached as she bent down to it again, her tongue laving over the fluid that had collected at its tip in her absence. The idea that she had wanted him as long as he had wanted her was heady, intoxicating. “You might have – ah, mentioned it. Before this. Perhaps when I was telling you how often I’d thought of you bent over my desk.”

A quiet, throaty laugh vibrated around his cock, and it nearly drove him over the edge by the sound alone. Drawing back for a moment, her smile grew mischievious again. “Was merely waiting for the right moment.” Words apparently exhausted, Kaede went back to her task with renewed enthusiasm, utilizing lips and tongue and teeth to drive him higher and higher, but never quite over the edge, until he was all-but arched off of his chair to press himself more firmly into her mouth, his hand fisting helplessly in her hair as the other fought in vain to keep his gasps and moans contained.

He was strung taut like a bowstring pulled too far, but the thing that broke him was the sound of a soft moan all around him, and the realization that one of Kaede’s hands had disappeared between her own legs. His breath caught and stars exploded in his vision as a torrent of desire overtook him, sweeping him along with it until all he could do was hold on for dear life.

Aymeric came back to himself slowly, the tide receding and leaving him shaking and spent, but not so much that he could not slide one shaking hand beneath Kaede’s chin and pull her back to her feet, to collapse inelegantly against him, lips tangled and tasting himself on her tongue.

His other hand seized the one that had been moving between her legs, lacing his fingers with hers. As she drew back from him, the smile on her face was shaky but smug, looking deeply proud of herself.

“We are going home,” he told her, his voice growing stronger as he spoke, “and I am going to spend the rest of the afternoon with my face between your legs.”

He watched in amusement as her eyes widened slightly and her cheeks flushed pink beneath her scales, but she held onto her bravado, lifting her chin and holding his gaze. “I’ll hold you to that, ser.”

She slipped out of his arms to perch on the edge of his desk and watch as he relaced his trousers and attempted to put himself back into some sort of order, making no effort to do the same with the rather rumpled mess he’d made of her ponytail. After a few moments – and a brief moment of distraction to steal another kiss while he had her at hand – he offered her his arm and had to force himself to shorten his stride, in order to not drag her after him in his haste.

As they left his office, the guard – Raitremont, his name was Raitremont – did not look over, staring resolutely ahead, even when Kaede offered him a grin and a small wave. Though Aymeric could have sworn he saw the edges of a blush beneath his helmet.

They stepped out into the bracingly cold afternoon air, and Aymeric shot an incredulous look down at Kaede. “Who is this minx and what have you done with my wife?”

Kaede arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you complaining?”

“Gods no. Not in the slightest. Merely wondering if I should prepare myself for such madness more often.” Fury have mercy, he hoped so.

“Well, I suppose that depends on you, and how… thoroughly you keep your promises this afternoon.” Kaede tucked a stray lock of hair behind her horn, and shrugged.

“My lady de Borel,” Aymeric dropped his voice as he murmured the title, and was pleased to see Kaede respond with a sharp inhalation of breath, “is that a challenge?”

A wide, wicked grin flashed across her face, and he was slightly mesmerized to see that her lips were still a bit swollen from earlier. “Perhaps.”

‘Twas all he could do to wait until they crossed the threshold into the foyer to scoop her up into his arms and carry her, laughing, into their bedroom.

[softquietsteadylove]

For the Doctor AU

5 times Gil tried to tell her he wants more and one time he finally get to tell her👀

This time, he thinks.

He slept over last night--not like that, though. They have yet to do anything intimate outside of the hospital. But he likes sleeping over at Thena's whether they make love or not. Because he likes being with her.

That's what he's been trying to tell her, at least, but they always end up not talking about that. They talk about work, and their days, and whatever they're watching while they eat takeout. And maybe they end up making out a little bit.

He has yet to manage to ask her out in any proper way.

Part of him is a little worried she doesn't want that--just wants to be friends. But he also knows Thena, and he knows she feels what he does (or at least something akin to it). Because he can see it in her eyes when they're drifting off on her couch, or when they kiss, or when he calls her his 'wife' when they're at work.

"Coffee?"

"Fuck yes," Gil answers instantly, and they both laugh as she offers him his mug. It's not just a mug, it's his mug. He has a couple of things that are his here at her place.

Thena sighs into her own cup of coffee pod 'vanilla latte'. As if they're not going to get some from the coffee kiosk at the hospital as soon as they get to work, anyway.

Gil watches her hold her hair back as she tips the mug back to chug it in her haste. She's so impatient it's a wonder she ever became a doctor. She's also cute.

Thena blinks as he pushes her hair behind her ear for her. Her mug is empty now, although she looks into the bottom of it to keep herself from looking at him.

Gil moves his fingers down her jaw so he can tip her chin up, slowly and gently. He leans down, kissing her, morning coffee breath and all. She leans into it, happily kissing him back on the tips of her toes.

She deepens the kiss, looping her arms around his neck and leaning into him more. He receives her, his arms around her lithe waist. Their tongues swipe against each other and their different mixes of coffee blend together.

"Fuck!"

Thena sinks back to her heels as she rips her beeper off her hip with a fury. She huffs, "I'm already on my way, they can't wait fifteen minutes?"

"What is it?" he asks, although his disappointment is also evident in his face and tone.

"Nothing too bad, but the trauma surgeon from upstairs is stuck in a procedure and the children are panicking." She looked up at him with an apologetic smile, tossing her mug in the sink and reaching for her backpack, "sorry, Ajak needs me."

He shakes his head with a smile, leaving half of his coffee in his mug on the counter and following her out the door, "duty calls."

Okay, maybe this time.

"Hey, Thena-"

"A bit busy, here, chap."

Gil blinks at the acerbic reception. Eros has never liked him, although he's not sure if it's a surgeon thing, or if he's just a little stuck up or what. "Sorry."

"Gil," Thena nods him in though, over to her side as she looks at the x-rays they have spread out.

Eros glares at him the whole time.

"Patient is late 50s, has thin blood, we've got what might be the beginning of a heart murmur on scans," she runs through the details, pointing to the chest x-rays as needed.

"And if I open him up within the week," Eros interjects eagerly, clicking the pen from his white coat pocket. "I can have that taken care of."

Gil makes a face.

"Exactly," Thena pats the back of her hand against where his shoulder meets his chest (right over his heart).

Eros raises a brow, but he doesn't have any of his unpleasant attitude for Thena, it seems.

"I mean," Gil shrugs, but Thena encourages him to go on, despite the surgeon in the room mentally willing him to shut his damn mouth. He slips his hands in his hoodie pockets, "do we really wanna open up someone at this age just for a murmur?"

Thena turns to Eros with her arms crossed, obviously vindicated, "see?"

Eros manages a smile for the lady (which is more than he managed for Gil, that's for sure). "A pacemaker is not a guarantee, my dear. It is a temporary solution that could be solved with a heart stint."

"I don't know, man," Gil continues to argue, not that anyone asked him. Eros makes it very clear that no one asked for him to go on, but Thena leans closer to him, and that's all he needs for support. "The recovery from even a simple surgery is tough."

"And poking around an old man's aorta is needlessly risky," Thena ads, moving her crossed arms to put her hands on her hips. "We can insert a pacemaker endoscopically and have him home in 48 hours."

Eros sighs, but maybe he's not up for being teamed on because he gives up on his argument. He gives Thena a little smile, "most people who call me for a consult want my opinion."

Thena doesn't even glance at it, still focused on the case at hand. "I wanted a second opinion, and it happened to be yours."

"You really know how to shatter an ego, don't you?" Gil looks at Eros, wondering if he's imagining the flirtatious tone he's using. Is he?

"Egos don't fall under the umbrella of emergency medicine," she sasses right back at him as she collects up the chest x-rays and scans. She knows what she needs to, "therefore: not my problem."

Eros practically swoons in her direction, "careful, Thena. You'll break some hearts with that attitude."

"Well then I'll send them your way," she mutters, and it's really making small talk so she can leave and get back to her patient.

But Gil can see how one might mistake it for returning a playful jab. He looks at Eros, who now has heart eyes for all the world to see. Gil wonders if it's been like this the whole time--if he's always been this way with her.

Has Eros not liked him this whole time because he has a thing for Thena?

"Thanks for your time," Thena mutters, now eager to return to her patient with both good news and having been proven right (two of her favourite things as a doctor).

"Adieu, my lovely," Eros practically sighs.

Okay, buddy, take it down a notch. Gil tries not to give him a funny look as he opens the door for Thena and follows her out.

This time was promising.

That is, until Ajak swept Thena's arm into hers and all but dragged her into the closest bar to the hospital. Thena had managed to grab the corner of his hoodie and pull him along.

Now he's the official drink watcher, four different cocktails gathered under him like ducklings hiding from a hawk. It's not so bad, he supposes. He is sitting down after a long day, and one of these drinks is Thena's.

She's not nearly as into it as the other Emerge staff who followed them, but for Ajak's sake, she's here, and she's doing her best to have a good time. She's had half of a single vodka cran, while Ajak is somehow on her sixth tequila shot and hasn't even blinked.

"Nurses are a different breed."

Gil smiles as she sits down right next to him, watching as Ajak finds new victims to dance with her. Indeed, the other night nurses swarm around her, all of them dancing out the strife of their unreasonable working hours.

Thena reaches under him for the rest of her drink. "Sorry."

He looks at her, surprised as she sheepishly takes a sip from the dinky little cocktail straw in her glass.

"I've blown off Ajak ten times for every one, now, but-" she sighs, giving him her cutest pout and with those big, beautiful eyes of hers (unfair). "I didn't want to come without you."

"Hey, I'm not allergic to a drink after work," he chuckles, and sees the relief on her face straight away (she's more of a lightweight than she thinks she is). He motions around his brood of drinks, "besides, I'm here on important business."

She laughs, and he loves that sound. "Yes, you are taking up a very important vigil for us."

Gil shrugs, looking down at the drinks getting more watery by the second in the warmth of the bar. None of them are his; he opted to be the designated driver in case everyone - including his work wife - wanted to get drunk. "I don't mind."

Thena leans closer to him in her seat; he does the same. "I knew you wouldn't. I guess the girls felt the same."

Gil grins at her, "should I take that as a compliment, or that they don't see me as an eligible bachelor?"

Jokes aside, Thena looks at him, "are you?"

Gil looks at her too, gulping down the bait eagerly, "am I?"

Thena shifts in her seat, looking down at her pathetic single shot drink again. She tugs at the 3/4 sleeves of her white sweater. "W-Well-"

"Gil!"

He only looks at Ajak for a second, but he can see that look in her eye. He shakes his head, "no!"

"Gil," she sing-songs to him again, swaying her way over to him.

"No, no, no," he shakes his head more fervently, leaning closer to Thena for protection, "I'm the drink watcher."

"Thena's here now," Ajak waves off as she reaches to drag him up by the hoodie. She sinks her claws into him before looking at Thena, "you don't mind if we steal him, do you?"

He looks at her, pleading for help.

Thena laughs, "all yours."

He pouts at her as Ajak drags him to the circle of other night nurses shouting their glee, "betrayed by my own wife!"

Okay, this isn't a great time, he'll admit that.

Thena is in the field with him and Kingo. They got a call for a car accident with more injured than just he and Kingo could handle. Kingo is driving while she's in the back of the bus with him.

"That's quite a few," Thena mutters as she looks over the details sent by the dispatchers. It's at least two cars worth. "Why are there so many?"

"It was a kid in his 20s who called it in," Gil adds, leaning over her shoulder, "maybe there's more than five of them per car."

Thena huffs, snapping on some gloves with a particular fury, "kids."

As soon as the doors are open, they hear the screech of brakes and the crunch of metal against metal.

Gil looks down at her. She's wincing. "Thena?"

She shakes her head; she's shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her leg is bothering her.

"Hey," Gil whispers, bending slightly to look at her. He moves in front of her, blocking off the sight of the crash (that just seems to be getting worse and worse). "Hey, it's me."

She looks at him then, and he can see that she's trying to keep a grip on herself.

He still thinks about that night--finding her pinned under that car. He still wonders if it would have happened at all if he had been by her side.

"Thena," he calls to her, pulling her eyes until they can lock onto his. He leans close to her, "just focus on me."

She nods faintly, her rapid breathing just starting to slow.

"That's it," he whispers, doing what he can to offer her shelter in the middle of the chaos that's already around them. "Just breathe."

She does so. If anything it sounds like it's hard for her to do, at the moment.

"I'm right here, baby," he whispers, letting his lips brush over her forehead. If he could sweep her into his arms and cuddle and kiss her better, he would. But this isn't the place, and it certainly isn't the time. "Just focus on me."

Thena gives her head one more shake, her ponytail flailing behind her. She sniffs back the beginning of tears and nods.

"Yeah?" he asks, giving her a long look to determine if she can do this or if she needs to tap out and call for someone else.

"Yeah," she nods. She's not her usual self, but even on an off day, she's more than strong enough to handle this. She snaps her gloves again and looks towards the wreckage--now complete with a third car in the pileup, "yeah."

"Okay," Gil whispers, following her lead as she runs to assist Kingo.

This time is at least better than last time.

The day hasn't been too bad. Thena's part way through a 24 hour shift while he's at the tail end of an 18-er. They're stealing what little rest they can in an on-call room.

And he does mean rest. Thena was already asleep when he found her and he crawled into bed with her less than two hours ago. He dozed off for a little bit and now he's just watching her.

She is so beautiful.

She doesn't wear makeup, because why would she in this line of work? Maybe she has mascara or something, but he's pretty sure that's just how lovely she is, all on her own. Her skin is flushed from sleep, and the hair curtained around her cheeks is mussed from tossing and turning.

How he loves her.

Thena turns over from being the little spoon. She always turns over so violently in her sleep--she doesn't just roll over, she turns and jerks and kicks. It's cute, though.

Gil rubs her back as she snuggles into him. This is an old song and dance for them, now. He sighs as he smells vanilla. She's using a new shampoo. She's been really into vanilla as of late.

"Gil," she sighs, but that doesn't mean she's awake.

He kisses her forehead, "honey?"

"Gil," she purrs again, stretching against him like a cat and pushing her nose into his shoulder. She giggles a little.

God, she'll be the death of him. He tickles her cheek with the back of his finger, "you awake, sweetie?"

"Hm," she groans, and that's Thena awake. She would never willingly be so adorable when she's conscious enough to feel embarrassed. "How long?"

He looks at his watch, "three-ish?--maybe four?"

"Not bad," she grumbles, going limp again after her stretching. She yawns against his shirt, and the heat of her breath makes the rest of him shiver. Her hand grasps at his hoodie, pulling it more over her. "You?"

"Maybe an hour or two," he whispers, pulling her closer and letting her steal all of his warmth that she wants.

She sighs, finally looking up at him. She blinks slowly, because everything about her is lazy and reluctant when she first wakes up in the morning.

She kisses him first this time. But he's all too happy to kiss her back, lips meeting lips in the silent on-call room. He can still hear the bustle of the of the hospital outside, but in here, it's just him and Thena.

Thena whimpers as he kisses her a little more firmly. "There's no time."

"I know," he whispers back. It doesn't stop him.

She doesn't stop either, letting her tongue slide against his, morning breath aside. Her hand tangles into his and she arches her back slightly, knocking her dainty little shoulder against his meaty one.

"Thena," he whispers, and it comes out a little rough. His watch beeps and she rolls her eyes. "I told you there was no time."

"Fine, go," she flops onto the on-call bed again as if he's dropped her from six feet up.

He chuckles, kissing the corner of her lips, "sorry, sweetheart. Next time."

"Hm," she crosses her arms at him as he climbs over her to get out of bed. She rolls over into his spot, "leave the hoodie."

"And where is yours?" he asks, even as he's pulling off his work hoodie to leave it for her.

"At home," she answers shamelessly, even reaching out for the garment with grabby fingers.

Gil does her one better, laying it over her preciously and leaning down to kiss her cheek, "fine, but I only get so many of these, y'know."

"Hm," she doesn't reply, inhaling as she pulls the hood up to her chin, "go, you're needed."

He chuckles on his way out the door, "I'm gonna get jealous of that thing."

"Don't," she at least looks at him before he leaves, "it's not as warm as you."

Maybe he should just give up.

He's not some pining schoolboy, desperate to hold her hand in the hallway. He likes what they have, and he liked it even before the sex. She will always be enough for him.

He catches the increasingly familiar scent of vanilla as she sits down with her coffee. He looks at her, a pen behind her ear and vanilla latte in her hand and crumbs of power bar on her lip.

She doesn't even blink as he wipes her crumbs away for her, "thanks."

"You're off in 10, right?" he guesses, still taking her in carefully as she flips through charts.

"Mmhm," she confirms as she scribbles a truly horrendous signature on paper after paper. "You?"

"Same," he confirms. He tilts his head to look at her better, "vanilla again?"

"Hm," she brings the cup up to her lips. She's barely listening.

"You really like it suddenly, huh?"

"Well, you said-"

He looks at her more closely, and now she's aware of what she's said. She's aware of her mistake. He leans closer, and she looks away from him more. "I said what?"

"Nothing," she mumbles, trying to bury herself between the pages of charts.

"Nu-uh," he chuckles, even pulling the completed charts away from her. He tilts his head further down, catching her trying to avoid his eyes. "What did I say?"

She fidgets a little now that her hands are bereft of distraction. "You just...mentioned that you like it, is all."

He doesn't even remember it, he must have said it so casually, just in passing. He grins, "the vanilla lattes, the shampoo--the candle at your place?"

She huffs, obviously embarrassed, "and? I happen to like it too!"

Gil's smile continues to grow, which he knows isn't helping her feel less embarrassed. But he adores her--he loves this woman so much. He leans in, kissing her cheek, "aw, honey."

Thena squirms, pushing his face away from hers as colour rises in her cheeks, "ugh, it's not a big deal."

Gil lets her press her fingers to his lips, because even that's still a kiss. His heart is skipping around happily in his chest and he realises now is the time. "Hey."

She peeks at him anxiously, still blushing faintly, "hm?"

"I'm off," he begins and she nods at the obvious being pointed out. He gestures, "you're off."

She nods, still not getting it.

"You wanna...?"

She tilts her head at him, "get...food? My place or yours?"

He leans closer, and he catches that look she gets sometimes when he leans in close but doesn't do anything more. She looks flustered. "I was thinking...out."

"Out?"

"Out."

"Like," she blinks and looks away from him again, not that there's anywhere to go with them just sitting on a gurney parked by the elevators. "Go...out?"

He can lead his Thena to water, but he can't make her say it. He pulls her hand into his, clasping their fingers together, "like a date. What do you say?"

He asks it gently, and if she says no, he'll let it go completely. He'll never bring it up again. He might need a few days to lie around his apartment and listen to breakup ballads, but he'll never bring it up again.

Thena looks down at their hands, that lovely rouge coming back to her cheeks. She nods, and if he weren't watching her so closely, he might miss it. She swallows, "okay."

"Yeah?" he asks, and the Goddess of War refuses to meet his eye as she nods again, more clearly this time. "Dinner?"

She nods again, letting go of his hand and standing off the gurney. "I, uh, I'll need to-"

He just stares with a dumb grin as her hands flutter around her. He's pretty sure she means she has to get ready, although he'd be happy to go to a five star restaurant with her in scrubs. "Sure--I'll pick you up at home?"

She nods, holding her charts desperately as she makes it partway down the hall. "Right."

"Half an hour?" he suggests, enamoured with the sight of her nearly tripping as she finally turns away from him.

"An hour!"

She doesn't need all that time, but he supposes he can go home and shower and shave, throw on some cologne. Maybe he can pick up some flowers for her on his way. She likes roses.

Sixth time's the charm.

[gorgagne-viperidae]

#1 ENVOY

Reports, in your humble opinion, are a necessity to any field mission, a heads-up, a reassurance to the powers that be that all is well on the front, all is fine and dandy beyond the familiar bastions of civilization even when it isn’t. All may not actually be well north of the Coerthan mountain passes, but the finer details aren’t for the Lominsan thalassocracy to worry over; that’s your job, Erdenechimeg. To assess and report as necessary, by whatever means were available in the least conspicuous manner possible.

So it’s a real fucking pity indeed that [most of] your linkpearls are gone, left behind in the safety of a Maelstrom lockbox. Your contacts, distant. Your means, limited. Necessary sacrifices are made every day, but it leaves you in a particular position with a saying to match; something-something-Lominsan-boys-make-do. So you do. You make do as best as you can.

Today, your best is a recalcitrant post moogle. Its hat sits askew on its fuzzy head, fur groomed up to make a sleek curl just below the cap’s crooked brim. A mail bag three times the size of its bearer dangles casually off an improbable shoulder. No matter how you look at it, it’s a delinquent through and through. It makes your teeth ache to look at.

“Can you be discreet?” You ask it again with a patience worthy of sainthood. “It is important that you be so.”

If it had brows, the moogle’s would certainly be crooking up right now as it leans in, a tiny paw up by its tiny snout in a conspiratorial manner. “What’s it to you, kupo? You got nefarious doings going on? Secrets to hide?” A theatrical gasp, its sneer (you assume it’s a sneer) broadening in furry strokes. “Trying to get innocent folks caught up in your business, kupo?”

The moogle seems to have kenned that there’s something unorthodox about your letter-sending, something odd about your request in this age of tomestones and linkpearls, but unable to put a paw on it, it merely ruffles itself up, puffing big like a real rough customer oughtta. Its voice promptly drops. “Double, or I’m callin’ the Temple Kni-“

You are not a rich man, Erdenechimeg. Your stipend for this moon is already mostly spent, funneled diligently into the cost of a room and other living necessities this far out in the hinterlands. Your gilpurse sits woefully light in your pocket, a delicate but constant reminder that you are indeed dependent on your own abilities for time being. You don’t recall moogles requiring pay to do their jobs, but you also haven’t had to rely on the furry postal system for some turns now, so for all you know they could have unionized in the time it’s taken you to remember they exist.

Luckily for you, you were taught how to handle those uppity union-types by only the best.

Busy rubbing its little paws together in an unmistakable bid for cold hard gil, you catch this envoy of moogle-powered post by surprise mid-threat when you grab it by the pom. “-iGHYIII! N-n-n-now now!” It squeaks. Harried and fraught, the delinquent veneer peels off the little creature like tissue as its hat topples off its head and catches on the lip of its mail bag. Its neat curl of hair seems to fray in sympathy. Tiny paws wave and scramble, unable to reach high enough to even hope of stopping you from your potential pom crimes. “Let’s b-b-b-be-he-he-hee re-he-hEASONABLE, ku-hu-PO!”

The pom itself sits like a soft little fruit in your palm, easily engulfed when you close your fingers over it, and the noise this gentle squeeze earns you could power a city by force of decibel alone. All evidence of the tough customer is gone, shredded with the moogle’s dignity as it squeals for mercy in your [gentle] iron grip.

Feeling better about the transaction now, you delicately haul the trembling peapod of a creature up to your face, where it may catch every angle of your toothy smile as you say, “The good Temple Knights do not need to be bothered, I think.” The moogle trembles all the harder when your tone turns pleasant and reassuring. “Now, perhaps, now we can reasonably discuss postage prices, just you and I.”

“Kupooo…”

[zzzzly]

I think there may been three souls in Mudeok’s body.

It’s either three or some soul mash-up of:

- Naksu (Cho Yeong)

- Jin Buyeon

- Jin Sulran

I think this is the only way the writers can logically explain the Jang Uk + Cho Yeong love parallel with Seo Gyeong + Jin Sulran from 200 years ago, why Jin Mu was able to use the bells on Naksu, and Jin Buyeon’s character in itself.

Maybe Jin Buyeon and Jin Sulran’s souls were somehow “mixed up” together when Jang Gang called the soul back into Buyeon’s body using the ice stone.

Here’s my reasoning:

1. In pt 1, when Naksu (as Mudeok) was inside the tornado-like space following her interaction with the ice stone, she saw a younger version of Buyeon, then a woman who looked like Mudeok. Why would the writers show two different age versions of the same Buyeon?

2. The Mudeok version of Buyeon saved Jang Uk when he was about to be soul shifted into Gil-Ju. I believe this is because of Jin Sulran’s connection with Seo Gyeong, the kings star of 200 years ago. Jang Uk appears to be the “reincarnation” of Master Seo, because of the kings star and ice stone parallel. It’s safe to assume that Jin Sulran would save Uk due to this parallel.

3. Pt 2 vision of Buyeon was the younger version of her when she was telling Naksu she was going to get “kicked out” of the body. Why not show the mudeok version of buyeon if they are the same person? It IS technically more accurate to show the older Buyeon (Jung Somin), since the body Naksu soul shifted into was certainly NOT the younger Buyeon. However, if younger Buyeon and older “Buyeon” are two different souls and the latter isn’t even Buyeon at all, this makes sense.

Additionally, I always found it weird that a girl who supposedly lost her memories at a very young age of ten is so driven toward a certain mysterious goal. How does Buyeon seem to know it all, like some all-powerful, all-knowing OP priestess? Why did she immediately jump to getting RID of the stone when she was on that lake? Maybe because of Jin Sulran’s soul. Jin Buyeon is considered the rebirth of Jin Sulran due to the similarity in how strong they are. Maybe it IS Jin Sulran, guiding Buyeon towards a goal she wants to achieve, which I am assuming is getting rid of the ice stone once and for all.

Some people claim Jang Uk, the reincarnation of Seo Gyeong, was meant to be with Jin Buyeon, the supposed reincarnation of Jin Sulran, because their past counterparts were lovers.

If it’s Jin Sulran’s soul in Buyeon’s body, it’s not a rebirth at all. This means: Jang Uk was never meant to be with Jin Buyeon.

This is me kinda stretching things, but:

The whole thing about the body changing to match the soul caught my attention. Buyeon’s body changed to look like Naksu’s original body because Naksu’s soul was in control.

Maybe Jin Buyeon wasn’t even supposed to look like the Mudeok we know. Maybe when Jang Gang called Buyeon’s soul back into her body, he somehow called Jin Sulran’s soul in too, or Jin Sulran managed to shift herself into the body. Anyhow, because Jin Sulran’s soul was there in control, Buyeon grew up to look like Jin Sulran, aka, the face of Mudeok we are familiar with.

Another stretch:

Jin Sulran was also a soul shifter. This is actually less of a stretch, because there’s a lot of evidence supporting this. Firstly, it parallels perfectly with Naksu’s current situation. Then there’s the fact that Seo Gyeong gave Jinyowon the ice stone because his lover, Jin Sulran, was “ill” (according to his letter). What kind of “illness” can the ice stone resolve? In this case, possibly the petrification of a soul shifter.

And here’s the actual stretch:

I think it would be cool if Jin Sulran actually looked like Naksu originally, but she got soul shifted into a body that looks like the Mudeok we know (Jung Somin). This is based off assumptions that, if the parallel of Seo Gyeong —> Jang Uk and Jin Sulran —> Cho Yeong (Naksu) is true, then consequently their past versions and current versions would look the same. I also am assuming that my theory that Jin Sulran was a soul shifter is correct. This most definitely means that Jang Uk and Jin Buyeon were NEVER meant to be a thing. It was always Jang Uk and Cho Yeong as the current Seo Gyeong and Jin Sulran.

The idea that Jin Sulran’s soul is also in Buyeon’s body and Naksu actually being Jin Sulran’s current counterpart kinda validates WHY Mudeok hijacked Naksu’s soul shifting in the first place. Jin Sulran could’ve “recognized” who was supposed to be her actual reincarnation.

ALSO, another thing my theories kinda clears up:

Why did Buyeon/Sulran do absolutely nothing to help Naksu when Jin Mu used the bells?

We have to remember that the bells work because of the Choi family’s sorcery. They apply some type of sorcery to the Soul Ejectors. Who made the Soul Ejectors for Naksu? Shaman Choi (after soul shifting into the Queen). Who was the FIRST to make those Soul Ejectors? Master Choi, the one who caused a lot of chaos 200 years ago. The same Choi family, means the SAME Choi family sorcery. If Jin Sulran was indeed a soul shifter from 200 years ago, there’s a possibility she was shifted through those Soul Ejectors, meaning the bells would still have the same effect. And since she was also in Mudeok’s body at the point Jin Mu used the bells, she would’ve been helpless to the attack as well. I don’t see any other reason why Jin Sulran/Buyeon would suddenly, very conveniently for Jin Mu, just disappear and not do anything.