#to me he seems a tiny bit hesitant which is a fun contrast to his confident pose

[canisalbus]

.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I really wanna know what happened during the painful bath that Nanda promised Jameson a while back. Baths in whump have the potential to be so soothing and excruciating at the same time, which kinda fits Jameson’s whole character don’t you think?

CW: Pet whump, dehumanizing language, intimate whumper, dubcon touch NSFW (not explicit), implied dubcon (fade to black), referenced blood and whipping, sadistic whumper, creepy whumper, creepy comfort, drowning, talk of sui (to escape torture), implied death by drowning (unnamed oc)

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

NEW VIDEOS of the Box Boy Killer! Never Before Seen!

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee 14h ago

So I got a really good response to my short series on the mysterious Box Boy Serial Killer (you can find my previous write-ups here, here, and here).

Well, recently I discovered something entirely new that I think you'd enjoy getting a look at! Found among personal items belonging to Nathaniel "Nanda" Matthew Benson: a medium-sized external hard drive containing nearly 750GB of photo and video content.

The hard drive was labeled 'Personal'. Police stated there was a second hard drive labeled 'Professional', but what content was on there, if anything, has never been released.

Technically, neither has this. Someone from within the police department leaked a bunch of videos and photos at some point, and I was able to get ahold of them thanks to a friend of a friend (who shall go unnamed, don't want to tip off whatever FBI agent is watching his internet activity, haha... or is it her or their internet activity... FBI Agent will never know.)

In my writeup on Nanda Benson's life with his Boxie, I didn't have a ton of details on how they interacted with each other. Finding this trove of info definitely changed a few things on how I view their relationship.

Take a look and let me know if it makes you maybe reconsider a few details, too. FYI: This does have nudity and some spicy times! Nothing worse than you've seen on HBO or whatever, but like, fair warning.

[Embedded Video Player With Title: Bathtime With Boxie: NSFW and Yet Somehow Still Oddly Wholesome Kind Of]

The video begins with the tub already filled with water, hot enough to gently steam. It's a gigantic soaker tub, large enough for four people to easily sit without crowding, nestled alongside a window in a truly enormous, incredibly well-lit bathroom. Everything is in shades of white, which makes the person in the frame even more immediately the enter of attention.

A young man with short, shaggy brown hair and dark eyes sits in the tub. He looks up, wrinkling his nose and glancing away. Only then does a bright red mark, darkening already to a bruise become obvious on one side of his neck.

"Don't fucking tape this," He says. His voice is slightly rough-edged, as if he's been screaming, and he sounds exhausted. "That's weird. Not taping the fucking but taping the after bit."

Red welts are visible above the line of water, marking his shoulders and arms. The welts are a deep red that is nearly purple - they are surrounded by bright red irritated flesh.

"Oh, but I like you like this." The voice holding the camera is deep and amused. The camera wobbles slightly and then settles, and soon enough a second man enters the screen. It's clearly Nanda Benson himself, stark naked.

Where the Boxie is heavily bruised and beaten, Nanda himself would be spotless if he weren’t flecked with drying red spots that are clearly the pet's blood.

"Yeah, well." The pet shifts to the side as Nanda steps in, hissing softly in contentment at the sudden burst of heat when he enters the water. He settles down against a bench set in to the side of the tub, and opens his arms.

The pet moves immediately into them, without hesitating. His eyes flicker nervously back to the camera and then away again.

"Yeah, well-... yeah well what, pet?" Nanda laughs as he pulls the Boxie into his lap, toying one hand already damp from the tub over the ring at the front of his collar. "Cat got your tongue after that fun we had together?"

"Tongue's the only thing you didn't take," The pet responds, almost playfully flirtatious. "I guess you'd miss it too fucking much."

"If I took your voice, who would call me a fucking idiot before I fuck him into the ground, hm?"

The pet flushes, looking down at the water, at the slightest pink of his blood still running into it. "Sir-"

"Ssssshhhh. I like you insulting me. I like punishing you for it more." Nanda mouths at the unmarked side of the pet's neck, pulling him back-to-chest where he sits, so he's facing the camera directly again. The pet's back arches when Nanda's teeth dig in, making a soft, high-pitched whine as his head drops back onto the man's shoulder.

The camera picks up the quiet splash of water as the pet tries to move away and is pulled roughly right back, catches the refracted sight of Nanda's hands on the pet's thighs forcing them apart, each of his calves on the outside of Nanda's thighs.

"Please-... H-hurts-"

"You love it," Nanda whispers, and bites down again, right into the crook of the pet's neck where it meets his shoulder. The cry this time is wild with a mix of pain and something darker, the pet's hands moving helplessly up and back to clasp just behind Nanda's head. His back is nearly a bow, every muscle trembling with a need to escape and to hold perfectly still, both at once.

When Nanda pulls back this time, the camera picks up the blood smeared on his teeth before he runs his tongue over them. It finds the light glinting off the fresh blood welling from the new bite along the pet's shoulder.

"It's too much," The pet says, struggling to sit back up straight, turning to look at Nanda. For a moment, his shaggy damp hair and angle hides his expression from the camera's gaze.

The twist of his spine, though, shows the bloodied whiplashes making their way up his back nearly to the nape of his neck.

"It's too much," The pet repeats, in a whisper. "Please. Please, it's too fucking much, if you fuck me again I'll fucking die. Please."

"Now, pet," Nanda teases, flirts shamelessly, running his wet hands through the pet's hair. He grips on tight and forces his head back again. The profile of the pet's face shows the slight bump of a broken nose healed almost perfectly, but not quite. The gasp he makes when Nanda's free hand presses over the welts on his chest is loud enough for the camera to catch. "You know you don't get to say when it's too much."

"You'll f-fucking kill me," The pet protests, voice tight from the angle forcing his collar to dig painfully into his throat. "Please, I... everything hurts so much..."

"You love the pain." Nanda's eyes look up to meet the camera before a more sinister smile finds its way across his face. "I know what you can take better than you do, pet, and I think you can handle one more. Sssshhh, here we go. There..." Nanda exhales softly as the two of them shift in the tub, the pet making a soft pained sound, his hips rolling as he is worked slowly down into position.

Then Nanda chuckles and slides his entire arm over the welts marking the pet's torso, holding him tightly in place. "Now take a deep breath."

"Wh-what?" The pet's eyes widen, comprehension coming a half-second too late. "Wait, don't-"

Nanda's hand gripped into the pet's hair plunges him forwards, bent at the waist, forcing the Box Boy's head suddenly under the water. The pet struggles desperate trying to get his head back up to breathe. Nanda grunts in a rhythm as his hips snap up and down again. He groans, "So fucking tight, goddamn I love you, you fucking slut for me-"

[/END VIDEO]

The video cuts off there, but my friend tells me the rest of it is basically the kind of stuff you have to pay a monthly fee for everywhere else on the internet.

But there's another video, from way later, that I find a really interesting contrast and comparison. Same friend got me this one. It involves Robert, whose write-up you can see right here.

[EMBEDDED VIDEO: Titled Holy Shit, No Wonder He Killed Him]

The screen is black for a few seconds, with the sound of someone taking the cap off a camera before things come into blurry view and then slowly into focus.

The bathroom in this video is tiny. It's barely large enough for everything in it, and a person sitting on the toilet will damn near bash their knees into the side of the bathtub. The grout in the tile floor is dark with old stains, and the tile itself needs either serious scrubbing or an exorcism.

Sitting naked in the bathtub is a young man with long blond hair that hangs in filthy, dirty clumps down to his shoulders. His face is streaked with mud and worse, and he has a black eye that has nearly swelled his left eye shut entirely. His hands are bound with rope stained brown with dried blood, held up in front of him.

His one good eye, maybe blue, follows with a kind of resigned terror the person behind the camera.

He sits in water up to his waist, but by the way he is shivering, it's clear that the water is not even warm, let alone hot. Further bruises mark his ribcage and his legs. One leg juts out in front, and something about it seems like it might be broken.

The camera is handheld, panning slowly from the young man's torn and lacerated heels and feet through his bruised leg - one swollen - and then back up to his face.

"Tell me your name." The voice is Robert Weber's.

The young man's mouth twists in a snarl that fades as quickly as it came and he looks away, to the side of the tub marked with deep soap scum. When Robert's house is searched, there are scratches in the tub as though someone had clawed that deeply into the sides in an attempt to escape. "It's..." The young man inhales, winces at the pain. "It's twe-... Twenty-One. M-My name is... Twenty-One."

"Good. And-... what did we practice saying next?"

The man's jaw trembles visibly onscreen. Then he says, flat and numb, "My name is Twenty-One and I have... two weeks to l-live."

"Perfect. Now I promised you a good scrubbing if you played along downstairs-" The young man flinches, closing his good eye and curling up in the tub as best he can. "-and I will keep that promise." There's a pause, jostling as the camera is slotted into a tripod to continue filming. Then, Robert's voice is suddenly deafening. "Dog! Get the fuck in here!"

The door opens with the creak of hinges deeply in need of oiling, and then the Boxie moves into view. He's skinny, malnourished and underfed, and his hair is roughly cut short in uneven hunks. He has bald spots worn in by the muzzle that is buckled over his mouth, making his breathing an audible rasp. He glares with unhidden hatred.

"Give Twenty-One a bath," Robert says, and his hand moves into view as he pats the Boxie on the head. The Boxie flinches but then forces himself to hold still, closing his eyes as the pat turns into prolonged petting. His muzzle is unbuckled and then removed. Robert's fingers drift over his bald spots, play along the red marks pressed into his skin by the muzzle, move over a scar cut into one side of his mouth that wasn't there in the video with Nanda.

The Boxie is naked but for an old dog collar around his neck.

Robert hums, disappears entirely from view. The door opens and closes again. The sound of a lock clicks.

The Boxie looks at the young man in the bathtub, who doesn't look up. "Fuck this shit," The Boxie mumbles, but he moves - dragging one of his legs a little, and there are ropes tied around his ankles that ensure he can do little more than shuffle - and finally kneels next to the tub. "Are you going to be a shit?"

The young man looks at him with surprise. "You... I've never heard you talk before," He whispers, looking fearfully to the side towards the door.

"You've never seen me without the fucking muzzle before, either," The pet replies. His voice is far rougher than the first video, suggesting long-term damage to his vocal chords. "I asked you something. Are you going to fight me and be a shit about this or no?"

The young man hesitates, then shakes his head. "I couldn't fight if I wanted to anymore," He says, like a man confessing a sin. "It all hurts too much. You know? I had a girlfriend-"

"Stop it." The pet cuts him off and leans over, picking up a stiff washcloth and soaking it in the water until it's soft enough to use again, running it over the young man's shoulders. For all the edge of meanness in his voice, the pet's touch is clearly gentle. "You're going to fucking die here, better if you don't talk about stuff that gets you fucked up first. Forget her."

The young man leans over to give easier access to his back. The soft whimpers he makes show that there must be some grievous injuries back there that the camera can't see. "I-I know I will. Die, I mean. Do I really have-... is it really two weeks?"

"Yeah." The pet takes a bar of soap and runs it over his own hands, rubbing them together to work up a lather. The soap found in Robert Weber's house after his death is Irish Spring and Dove - it is believed he used different soap for different captives according to his own odd whims. "He's put little heart shapes on a calendar he marks off. He'll hurt you a little worse every fucking day and then make you beg for him to end it."

The young man slowly nods, looking at his bound wrists. There's a soft sniff, but he seems too tired for tears. "There's no chance of getting away, is there."

It's not really a question.

The pet answers anyway.

"You're the twenty-first, and none of the others have. What do you think?"

"I-I can't do this."

"You have to." The pet gets a red Solo cup sitting on the side of the tub, fills it with water, and pours it down the young man's back. He hisses and cries out softly in pain. "He doesn't exactly ask your goddamn preferences."

"Help me escape," The young man pleads. "Help me get out of here."

"I'm fucking hobbled," the pet snaps. "He'll be on us both before we even made it out of the hallway. You think I'm fucking stupid? I'm the only one who might not die if I stay good. Come on, lean forward so I can wash your hair."

The young man moves to obey, hands disappearing beneath the filthy bathwater, and then he turns, looking over his shoulder. He and the pet share a long, silent moment. Then he leans over far enough to put his mouth nearly to the pet's ear and whispers something so low that the camera doesn't pick up the words.

The pet inhales sharply.

He looks at the door, and then back to the young man.

"Are you sure?" He asks, and the edge is totally gone from his voice, now.

The young man nods, slowly. "Please," he says, a little louder. "If I have to-... please. Not him. I-I know you'll get punished, but... please. God, please, just this one thing." His hands come back up to grip onto the pet's hand where it lays along the side of the tub.

The young man leans forwards, and his forehead gently rests against the pet's. They are silent for a long moment.

"Please, don't let him be the one to kill me," The young man says. "I know I'm g-going to die, but... let me take that a-... away from him. Please. God, I don't even know your name, but-... please."

The pet swallows, then nods, tipping his head back to press a kiss to the young man's forehead. "I don't have a name. What's your name? I'll remember it. Your real name."

The young man's throat bobs and he whispers into the pet's ear again.

He sits back up, leaning over until some of his long hair falls into the water. "I'm-... I'm ready."

The pet takes a deep, deep breath, moves up to kneeling with his thighs vertical, lays both hands on the back of the young man's head, and says, "I hope it's better, wherever you go."

Then he pushes the young man's head underneath the water.

[/END VIDEO]

According to my friend, there's more to that video as well, but obviously it's been cut to take out the end of the poor guy. Now, my friend swears up and down the pet is crying at the end of the video, that he can see tears, but I'm not sure.

That doesn't really line up with the pet killing people before this, you know?

But one thing it does prove is that the Boxie knows the name of one of the unidentified victims. If he could be found, we could give that man back his name and get his family the closure they deserve.

I know some of you argued with me last time that the Boxie is clearly a VICTIM and not a PERPETRATOR, and I definitely admit this second video maybe suggests you're on to something there.

But I still think we have a Boxie killer on our hands here - I just think maybe I was wrong about why he's killing them at all.

I guess we'll find out if he kills again.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary @burtlederp

​

[lokislastlove]

Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

Chapter 1:

It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

“Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

“Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

“Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

“Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

“Oh yeah,” you grumble.

“Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

“I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

“Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

“Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

“Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

“I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

“Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

“You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

“Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

“Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

“We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

“That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

“Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

“You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

“Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

“Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

“You guys?!” You call shakily.

“Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

“Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

“Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

“I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

“You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

“Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

“No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

“Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

“Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

“Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

“Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

“Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

“Yes!” You all shriek together.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

“Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

“Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

“Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

“Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

“Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

“These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

“Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

“Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

“I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

“Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

“Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

“Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

“Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

“Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

“Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

“Did we get it?!” You yell.

You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 15

No, you’re not dreaming, here is indeed chapter 15 ! I sincerely hope you’ll enjoy it 💕 (and please, forgive me for the quality of the translation 😭)

Chapter 15 : We’re going to make a deal, you and me

- Good evening, my little dragon.

I closed my eyes for a moment to savor the sound of his voice in my ear, feeling like an eternity had passed since the last time we were alone. At this probably late hour, the corridor was quiet, there was hardly anyone to surprise us which helped me to let myself go and take advantage of his proximity.

- Good evening, I answered, amused to hear him call me like that a second time, the first being when his ice had mingled with my breath.

I felt his lips in turn sketch a big smile close to my head. Running one of his hands to the doorknob of his bedroom door, he opened it before placing his two palms on my hips to push me into the room, leaving me no possibility of stealing away. Once inside, he closed the door behind us with a snap. I took the opportunity to finally turn to him and remained speechless for a moment.

Lance was visibly coming out of the shower as his loose hair was dripping onto his black t-shirt and the rolled up towel he had laid casually on the back of his neck. His locks, an almost bluish white, fell wildly on his face, making him look younger than I had ever seen him before.

I literally thought I was fainting when he looked at me with his eyes both icy and burning under the barrier of his frivolous locks.

My God, he was so beautiful.

- How are you feeling ? I went to see you in the infirmary but you were snoring pretty loud, I didn't want to wake you up, he said seriously before bursting into a frank laugh at my bewildered look.

I really hoped I hadn't done this.

- I'm much better, thank you, I replied, giving him a grimace in passing. And at least I hope you liked it, otherwise I don't know how to go about looking attractive.

Approaching with a bemused air, a thin amused smile stuck on his face, he slipped his hands under my neck until his fingers came to mingle fiercely at the base of my scalp, thus tilting my head in his direction and giving birth to light currents of energy on the smallest bit of skin he touched.

- I'm really reassured, he confessed intensely, before resuming in a much lighter tone. Your snores are the sexiest I've heard, don't doubt it. Besides, if you hadn't been bleeding, I would most likely have had a hard time resisting your charm.

I couldn’t help but laugh in my turn at his nonsense. I wasn't sure if I'd ever seen him so relaxed before, but I liked it more than I dared admit.

- In that case, I'll try to be careful not to look too attractive, you shouldn't give up.

As if to prove my words right, his intense gaze drifted shamelessly to my lips, giving rise to a new sensation in my lower stomach. His expression, meanwhile become indecipherable, literally hung on me at the slightest of his movements, my heart pounding so hard I was sure it could almost become audible.

But it was with disappointment that I felt him slowly let go of me, brushing my neck with a tiny involuntary caress.

- You’re right. I unfortunately have the impression of not being far from it, at times.

Suddenly absent, he lost himself for a few seconds in contemplating the void behind me, which allowed me to observe him more openly. I was about to answer him when his voice echoed between us again.

- You look much healthier than yesterday, anyway. Besides, were you able to eat something ?

Oh. How could I tell him that the only thought I had in my head when I woke up in the infirmary had been to see him, before even thinking of anything else ?

Realizing he was right, I rubbed a hand on my stomach as a low gurgling sound was heard.

- Uh... not yet, I said, caught in the act. In fact, I didn't have time to take a shower either.

A new smile surreptitiously dawned on his lips.

- Was the little human in too much of a hurry to find me ?

- No matter what, I defended myself, looking away, the blush rising in my cheeks. I just walked past your room before arriving at mine. And then, you didn't give me the choice to enter, I'll call you back.

- It's true that you seemed completely against it, he said ironically.

This idiot was having too much fun with the situation for my liking, so I decided to fake my departure.

- Well now that I'm gone, I'll be able to go take care of all that. I'll probably see you tomorrow, Lance.

My light tone didn't seem to baffle him for a second. I walked around him to make my way to the exit while watching him out of the corner of my eye casually remove the wet towel from his neck. But, when my fingers were about to engage the handle, a dark-skinned hand suddenly entered my field of vision, coming to rest with authority on the wooden frame, keeping the door firmly closed. His breath tickled my cheek.

- Alright, we're going to make a deal, you and me, he began. You can go take a shower, but then you meet me here. I take care of the rest.

- When you say "the rest", do you mean that I take my meal in your room ?

- It's almost midnight, the refectory is closed but Karuto is still in the kitchen. I know very well that he will make an effort for you, on the other hand he will never let you eat on the spot when he has just cleaned the room.

I did indeed imagine Karuto reacting that way, which made me laugh.

- What if I don't accept ?

- Who said you have the choice ? he wondered, breaking into a broad, confident smile.

I crossed my arms, an eyebrow raised and an amused pout.

- Isn't a deal just supposed to be accepted by both parties ?

He withdrew his hand before shrugging, feigning innocence.

- Call it what you want as long as your butt comes back quickly here, and know that I will not hesitate to come and get you myself if necessary, he concluded with an air that didn’t leave the leisure refuse.

This man was just incorrigible, but for once I must say I was ready to listen to him very wisely.

*

Once my shower was finished, I quickly went to my room to put on some clean clothes. Was I stressed about joining Lance ?

Totally.

With a lump in my stomach, I knocked on his door and then entered without waiting for an answer. Leaning over a book with an ancient cover, the dragon seemed to be searching for something in these pages yellowed by time. Crouching on the ground, his long top hair fell over his eyes, hiding part of his concentrated face.

I walked into the room as he carefully closed the book, straightening up in the process.

- Hey, I said softly, stopping near him. What are you looking for ?

Seeming relieved to see me come back, he grabbed me delicately by the waist to plant a kiss on the top of my head, making my poor heart resume its frantic run.

- Hey, he replied calmly while releasing me, as if nothing had happened. I go through all of the HQ books relating to the three great races of Eldarya, including dragons and aengels, but I can't find anything similar to what's happening between our powers. I almost wonder if this phenomenon isn’t totally apart, even if it’s quite insane.

Tilting my head to the side, I observed the old cover he still held between his fingers before noticing that the title was written in Greek. Turning my head in the direction of the bookcase that adorned the wall beside me, I was amazed to discover that it was filled with a multitude of alphabets that I was unable to read.

I returned my attention to him.

- Maybe this is information that has been intentionally suppressed ?

He seemed to think about my guess, his gaze in turn lost on the covers.

- At the point where we are, I think anything is possible.

He tried to push the wicks that blocked his view with a passage of his hand, but they immediately returned to their place, which made him look incredibly... wild.

And sexy.

When he returned his attention to me again, I had the unpleasant feeling that my thoughts were on my face, which probably made me turn crimson. Fortunately, the dragon seemed in a calm mood and did’nt get up.

- Are you hungry ?

His question caught me off guard, I had totally forgotten that point of our "deal", if I could really call it that. Lance went to get a tray on his desk, on which sat a real full meal. So he wasn't laughing when he said that Karuto would agree to do this for me, I clearly hadn't expected that much.

He put the tray down on his bed and invited me to sit down.

- I don't really have a suitable place to eat here... I hope it will be okay anyway.

My heart warmed even more at his attention. I felt... good, to be completely honest.

- It’ll be very good, don’t worry. Thank you so much.

I sat down and began to eat timidly at first, then with more and more appetite as my hunger aroused. By the time I swallowed my meal, the dragon had returned to his activities, leaving me plenty of time to observe him.

Entirely dressed in black, only the color of his hair contrasted, highlighting the trace of his scar on the back of his neck. It was the first time that I had seen it almost entirely, it ending its way under his top.

Leiftan's words came back to me then. This scar, it was probably the wound with which he had been made dead, becoming as a result of this incident the character of Ashkore. What had happened to him, exactly ? The aengel had described it as his only weak point, which was why he never went out without covering the back of his neck. But another question was bothering me.

Did he ever show it openly to others, as he was doing with me now ?

My gaze fell on his back, which was both wide and slender. Our relationship was progressing step by step, it was a fact, but had it evolved so much without me realizing it ?

It was true that we had kissed, but this incident had only happened once. I had reacted with my deepest fears, seeking some comfort in the arms of the only person who had actually seen me. And, in truth, Lance had ultimately only responded to my urges.

But, calmly, what was it then ?

I ended up swallowing my entire meal, and it was with a full stomach that I got up to put the tray back in its original place. Probably remembering my presence, the young man decided to stop his research and put back the books he had taken out. I decided to join him, placing myself at his side in order to help him.

- Did you manage to find something ? I questioned him, cascading my long black hair down behind my shoulder.

- Not at all.

Leaning forward slightly, he came to rub his face with both hands, looking visibly overwhelmed at not finding any information that could be of use to him.

- I didn't find anything about your connection with Leiftan either, to believe that these phenomena are totally unique to you, he said while giving me a sideways glance. You really have something special, no matter what you think of it.

I pretended to be focused on my task to hide the cloudy feeling his assertion gave me.

- Something special, that's for sure. I'm sure there hasn't been any aengel before me that's been on the verge of death because she couldn't pull out her poor wings.

Lance laughed frankly at my reflection, visibly amused by my jaded expression.

- On the verge of death, exactly ?

- Obviously ! And don't laugh, it's a lot more complicated than you think, I continued on the same length.

His gaze much sharper than a moment earlier, made butterflies born in my stomach. I liked to see him come alive when one of our discussions amused him.

- Indeed, I had forgotten that I did’nt know what it was like to have wings, he quipped before nimbly intercepting my vain attack on his shoulder, making resonate again his hoarse laughter as his hand decided not to let go of mine.

- You will end up hurting yourself, I will prevent you for your good.

Personally, I used to call it an oversized ego. I assumed, however, that it was too late to make up for this point on him.

- Besides, you could see your back when you went to take your shower ?

- Yes, I said, remembering the image of my skin, it strangely almost healed. We hardly distinguish anything, there are only a few traces of bruising. I don't understand, yesterday I passed out because of this, and today... it's like there never was anything.

The dragon was silent for a moment, probably analyzing my words.

- It's already a good thing that it has improved, even if I understand your frustration at not reacting in a "normal" way, let's say.

I stopped, my free hand resting on a book and my gaze fixed in front of me. That was it, he was right. Although in this particular case it was a good thing, my body was once again reacting in an abnormal, inexplicable way, and it was this point that bothered me the most.

Without ever showing anything, Lance always listened attentively to the slightest of my silences.

Sometimes I felt like he understood me better than I did.

I turned my attention back to him and was surprised to fall directly on his gaze of such cold blue and such deep intensity, that I lost myself in it without any escape. His hand finally let go of mine to move up my arm, stopping its course when his long, thin fingers reached my cheek. When these slid down the back of my neck, I instinctively turned my face in his direction.

Just before his lips caught mine bluntly.

I in turn buried my fingers in his hair while responding eagerly to his kiss. Without warning, his other arm wrapped around my waist to lift me up against him, pinning my legs on either side of his hips. In two long strides, Lance turned off the overhead light to turn on a new, much more intimate one, then laid me confidently on the mattress. His body positioned just above me, I pushed him to stand up with my hands against his chest, following him in his race. When he found himself only leaning on his knees, I lifted his dark t-shirt to pull it over his head. The dragon helped me without flinching, rolling his muscles under his tanned skin as he sent the garment to graze.

Without giving me time to do anything, he made me tilt back again so as to come over me completely. Catching my hips with his large hands, he slid me so that I was pushed up higher in the bed.

I grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled on it, quickly baring my stomach and then my chest. Lance didn't have the patience to wait for me to finish removing it to take it to the next level. With dexterity, he was already unbuttoning my pants with one hand while kissing each part of my body which was revealed little by little, then, with a sharp and precise movement, he pulled on them in order to slide first my buttocks then my legs, until I remove it completely.

Only wearing my panties, I dug my fingers into the quilt above my head under his feverish gaze. He continued to kiss my body, varying sometimes between a nibble or a lick on my burning skin, his eyes disappearing in the wake of his messy hair as he started the slope of my curves.

When I felt my underwear slide over my thighs, his kisses became softer, deeper. He parted my legs with his suddenly patient hands, stroking my thin skin in a slow trajectory as he positioned himself lower.

My breath quickened in a split second when his tongue met me.

First applied, the young man wasn’t long in settling on the crescendo of my moans to deepen each of his licks, bringing me to the climax when his fingers joined the dance, sinking deep into me. My legs began to shake, forcing me to sink my teeth into the flesh of my arm so as not to wake up the whole HQ. When my jolts finally subsided, the dragon didn't give me a second's respite. Kissing my mouth passionately, he stood up to remove the only clothes he had left. I couldn't help but bite my lip as I admired the beauty of the man standing in front of me.

A slight smile spread across his full lips as he towered over me again, making his way effortlessly between my thighs. He leaned on one arm and grabbed one of my legs with his free hand, pulling it over his hip. I took the opportunity to wrap it around him and at the same time raised my pelvis, so as to make it easier for him.

Sliding my hand on his cheek, I anchored myself in his gaze so intense that I was deeply moved.

Unfortunately, I couldn't keep my fingernails from digging into his flesh when he pushed hard inside me. A single drop of blood immediately escaped the scratch and came to his lips as he began to perform several massive back and forth movements.

He leaned close to my ear.

- My angel, I have just started and you already bleed me, he laughs weakly.

But he didn't give me a chance to answer, at least not as I would have liked. Accentuating his jerks, my cries began to fill the room more and more loudly.

It didn't take long for our mouths to meet again, as if magnetized now that they had finally found each other, in turn making the red pearl flow to the hollow of my lips.

(Chapter 16)

[espritmuse]

Zeke and Reiner birthday collab!! It was supposed to be longer but my sens of organisations is close to zero so I was late as usual @saccharine-darling collab!!!

4K words, smut ahead (but not that much lol)

Warning: reader is low-key cheating, semi public sex maybe angst too idk….

Perhaps the sun, always glorious and a harbinger of delight and bliss, reminded you of how dull and dreary your life was, while the moon and its obscurity brought you back to your slumbers and reveries.

On a bright day when everything seemed dark, questioning your relationship with Reiner, you met him, Zeke Yeager, like a light among the stars, like the moon eclipsing the sun for a mere moment, but maybe long enough to forget about how bright the sun used to shine.

—LUNAR ECLIPSE—

A single tiny piece of sunshine that seemed to escape from the firmament to find refuge, a curtain slightly ajar so that the darkness did not take over the whole room and one side of the bed unmade, the grey cotton sheets crumpled as usual, as they have been every morning for several months now. It was all these little details, in addition to your noisy alarm clock, the passers-by and the cars in the city streets, that brought you out of your long and sweet reverie, the one that allowed you to escape from your daily life, which was morose, to say the least.

You gathered up what courage you had left and got up after stretching your numb limbs from the awkward position you had been in while sleeping. Walking a few steps to reach the window, you opened the shutters and curtains to finally let the sweet sunshine into the sad room, which needed it. Although you had no desire to see him again, your stomach was just rumbling with anticipation of anything that might fill it. So you opened the white wooden door, turned the gold handle, and headed for the main room of your little flat.

"Morning." You greeted with a sigh before opening one of the small doors in the wall shelves to pick up a black patterned mug into which you poured coffee straight from the coffee pot.

"Hm." The short-haired man simply replied without even bothering to look in your direction, as if he didn't care about your presence anymore.

You didn't even care, you'd taught your heart not to feel bruised by every loveless move he made. He just couldn't stand you anymore, he didn't love you like he used to. You don't know what changed, what you could have done to make your sweet and loving boyfriend suddenly change his behaviour.. The idea that he had met someone else had crossed your mind more than once, but you didn't even dare ask him; you were frightened of the answer he might address you. Despite his silence, you never stopped loving him and it hurt you deeply that he could have gone to someone else, another girl, maybe more beautiful, funnier... It's all these questions that have little by little pushed you away from him in your turn.

"Did you sleep well? It was hot last night and I had a little trouble falling asleep.” But you tried to talk to him, no matter what, you always found something to say to try to reconnect with the man you loved.

With the summer, the heat and the sun, he had even more excuses to go out at all hours of the day so you had even less opportunity to see him. At times you can't help but think back to the days when you would jump into his arms as soon as you heard his keys turn in the front door lock, when you would spend the evening in each other's arms whispering sweet nothings. You think back on those moments with great melancholy, you don't even feel like the same man anymore.

“Yeah.” Once again, he didn't look at you; his head was turned towards the television, which was showing a programme even more boring than the questions you were asking him to break the ice. Slumped on the sofa, his left leg stretched out and the other bent; you sat down next to him and put your cup on the living room’s small coffee table.

"We could go out today, don't you think? I miss when we used to go for walks in the city Reiner." You asked, your eyes on him, and thankfully you noticed a small movement in his regard as if in a second he had recalled happy memories, memories where everything still seemed perfect.

"I...I already have stuff planned." He replied after a short moment, his gaze still evasive.

"Oh...Okay." You simply answered, not wanting to annoy him longer, maybe that was the reason; you were too much on his back, you were asking for too much attention...

Silently sipping your coffee, you pondered for a moment, your mind elsewhere. After a few minutes of communicating to yourself, you made your settlement. You were going to go out without him, you didn’t need him for everything. It had been weeks since you had been out with just yourself and you were beginning to miss it; when you officially moved in with him, away from your family, you lost touch with many of your friends so it was high time to meet new people and have some fun for once.

So the day passed, the noon and then the afternoon; you had decided to go out at night to appreciate everything even better, the big lights on the main boulevard, itself filled with people dancing -contrasting with their morose faces of the day-, the bars full of life, the stars overhanging the sky and giving it a bit of light in its solitary gloom...Everything seemed more beautiful once the sun was down. Perhaps the sun, always bright and a harbinger of delight and hapiness, reminded you of how dull and dreary your life was, while the moon and its night brought you back to your slumbers and reveries.

Using your phone, you took down the address of a bar in your town that you had spotted earlier on one of your walks. It was quite big but seemed to be a bit of an upmarket bar, given the prices of the drinks. But you didn't give up, it was your night out, all to yourself and it didn't matter if you ended up broke, you wanted to have fun for once.

So when night fell, you put on your best evening dress, a short black dress, hugging your body to perfection without being too tight, and your pumps of the same colour - a little high and uncomfortable, but that would be a problem for later -. And of course, you took forever to make yourself beautiful in the bathroom, make-up, eyebrows, nails... Who knows, maybe you were going to meet someone, or maybe somewhere in the back of your mind, you wished Reiner would see you like this, that he would fall in love with you again like he did a few years before when he saw you at that campus party. You would have liked him to compliment you, to ask you to stay home, or even to ask you out instead; but none of that; he was already off somewhere while you were primping in the next room.

Turning the key in the lock of the front door, you then went down the stairs quickly - trying not to fall with your impractical high heels - and went to the taxi you had ordered beforehand because, although the bar was not far away, you were still a woman in a short dress at night and you didn't want to put your life in danger. Once in the car, the driver began to drive carefully, exchanging a word or two with you so that the journey would not be too boring.

"So, a girls' night out? It's a beautiful day right now, even at night, you're lucky to see the stars in the city, with the pollution, not everyone gets to see them so often." The man says to you, hands on the wheel, looking straight ahead, preparing to brake at the red light.

"Yeah, that's right. I'm going out to have some fun." You simply replied to the white-haired, long-bearded widow with the same unkempt light colour.

"In my day, me and my friends used to run out of bars, unpaid!" He recalled with a smile as he looked at you through the car window to look at your smiling face, too. "So if you need me to wait for you outside the bar so you can escape, don't hesitate, the police have never caught me...yet."

"It's going to be hard for me to run around with these things on my feet...but I'll make a note, the prices are outrageous." You replied to his somewhat amusing remark.

The car had been driving for several minutes now and you saw the front of the bar, so the driver pulled over and waited for you to give him the money for the fare, which you said after digging into your wallet for a few seconds.

“Take care of yourself miss” He finally said before rolling up the driver's side window and leaving.

You breathed out a deep breath before crossing the street that separated you from the place. It was, like all the other signs of this kind, much more animated at this hour and more beautiful too. Its many lights of all colours and the people who surrounded it, some outside to smoke or drink and others, inside laughing with friends, that you could see between the half-open doors... All this gave an astonishing charm to this place.

Your legs a little shaky with hesitation, you finally entered, putting your hands on one of the glass doors to push it open slightly to give yourself more room to pass. You quickly made your way to the bar at the far right of the large room. To avoid people who had already had too much to drink, you stayed close to the walls, walking quickly along them to wait for the right place. Although your steps went in one direction, your eyes, curious as they are, turned towards the dance floor and the other people present. They seemed so happy, full of life, smiling, dancing... You wondered immediately if, like you, their lives were not a reflection of their current emotions, if, like you, they woke up in the morning, sad with the feeling that their lives are meaningless. They seem so happy at the time, but are they really happy once the sun rises, once the bar lights go out?

You took a seat on one of the leather stools placed at the counter, waiting for a waiter to ask you what you wanted to order. A simple whisky, that's what you took when the waiter came towards you.

Sipping your drink -or rather the second one, as you had swallowed the first one in record time-, you continued to look at the others, indefinitely, when you heard a voice break your precious silence; it was the bar's waiter once again but this, this time he was holding a small plate with two drinks on it.

"Excuse me, here," he placed two more glasses of whiskey in front of you, "The man over there paid for you." He nodded towards another part of the room to your puzzled look. In the distance, there was a group of men who looked like businessmen, from the black suits they were still wearing. You didn't know which man he was talking about, there were several of them; two with blond hair, one who looked very effeminate and the other with glasses and a beard; a dark-skinned man with closely shaved hair and finally a dark-haired man who seemed to be smaller in stature, especially compared to one of the blond men beside him.

You turned back your head to its original position, a little smile on your face, proud that your charm was still working, and what's more, on a man who seemed rather attractive - because, even if you didn't know which man the drink came from, the four of them were rather to your liking -

"Is this seat taken?" A deep yet soft voice suddenly asked, taking you out of your reverie.

You turned towards the noise you had just heard and noticed that a young man, about your age or maybe older, was pointing with his index finger at the chair next to yours. He was one of the guys you just saw some minutes prior, one of the blonde, the one with the beard and the round silver glasses.

“Oh...No. No, it’s not, you can take it,” you answered as naturally as possible, with a smile that had not yet left your lips. The unamed man said before sitting on the chair at your right, he had a cup in his hand, half empty.

“So...What a girl like you is doing here..” he leaned over a little to look at the other vacant seat on your left. “...all by herself?”

"Oh well, I was supposed to come with someone but they dropped me... so I preferred to come alone." you replied honestly, your eyes looking into his.

"He doesn't know what he's missing then." He added with a small smile and a discreet wink.

Although the man was attractive, you weren't used to that anymore; going out to bars, being accosted…Since you were with Reiner, you had developed the habit of always replying negatively to the advances of men. But at the moment everything was racing through your brain, you didn't even know what he was doing tonight and he didn't even bother to ask you where you were going, as if he didn't care anymore.

To have fun. That was the promise you made to yourself, and you decided to keep it.

"Zeke, nice to meet you. "You finally told him after he asked your name and, of course, you asked his in return.

Maybe it was the liquor, or maybe it was the sense of freedom you hadn't had the pleasure of feeling in months, but for some reason you'd ended up chatting with him for hours. You knew that time was passing, thanks to the waiter's digital watch that lit up every time he lifted his arm to look for a bottle up high, your eyes were directed straight to the sudden glimpse of light in the darkness.

He offered to dance, which you refused, for fear that your heels would give out under your inexperienced movements - or maybe those embarrassing movements were the real reason - and then he offered you something else, something a little daring, maybe even too daring for the short time you'd both been sitting at the bar.

You accepted, without even considering too much, maybe you should have? or maybe the adrenaline and the alcohol in your veins spoke for you. This man had appeared like lightning in the middle of a storm, the moon in the middle of a sky devoid of light. In other words, he was there at the right time.

So there you were, without really knowing how or why, sitting on the edge of one of the sinks in the bar's toilets, your dress somewhat raised so that your skin could come into contact with the cold surface of the piece of furniture, your legs spread -it was almost pathetic- and his hands placed on your half-opened thighs, rough hands, large and painted with several blue veins, contrasting with his rather light skin and which gave in spite of themselves a little colour to his light skin.

"Are you sure no one will come and disturb us here?" You asked, putting your hands on his chest, still dressed, although he had removed his black blazer. Only a white shirt prevented you from coming into direct contact with his skin, the one you wanted so much, now.

"Don't worry...just relax, okay?" He moved closer to you and placed a soft kiss on your neck that made your eyelids close almost instantly.

His lips began to move freely over your face and chest, as if they couldn't decide where to land. His arms were still wrapped around you, moving around your back, catching the fabric of your dress at times, as if to bring you closer to him.

While your eyelids were still closed, your ears were attentive to every little sound in the room, as if they were ready to inform your body of someone's arrival or, as was the case now, to hear the zip of his trousers being quickly undone.

"Are you sure?" You felt his warm breath next to your ears, as if he were telling you a well-kept secret.

"I'm sure." You retorted, ready to submit to one of the cardinal sins. Although, you would have much preferred that he took you home, for comfort, at least.

You felt his long, hot member between your thighs, with a long sigh of your own. He was already hard as a rock, and you wet as the ocean, for a flash of a second you wondered if this was his intention all along and if he had noticed you as soon as you stepped into that bar and then, a little heat growing in your crotch made you forget about this useless questioning.

You tried not to be too blatant, but as his pelvic thrusts got more profound and faster, you couldn't stop a few moans from escaping your lips.

"Fuck...a body like that.." He commented, using two of his fingers to push the fabric of the neckline of your dress and expose one of your breasts to the air.

"Zeke..." You moaned languidly as he continued his back and forth.

"What? You don't agree maybe? Look at you." He questioned, though his question was mostly rhetorical at this point because yes, indeed, you had noticed what a disadvantageous position you were in. "Poor girl... so desperate, I almost feel sorry for you, you know"

Then he stopped for a moment and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you down from the sink where your feet did not touch the floor. He turned you, a little violently, and pressed your belly against the surface of the sink, allowing him to have a full view of everything below, which, as you could imagine, he was most interested in.

He kept his burning hands on your hips - you could feel it even through the lmere piece of tissue that separated your skin from his - to help his pelvis move even harder, which released even more little moans from you, trying as hard as you could to muffle them with the palm of your hand, though it was more than futile.

"I'm almost there...Fuck you feel amazing..." he groaned in a hoarse voice, his movements becoming more and more tired but still rough, as if he wanted to get it over with quickly.

With all the alcohol you'd ingested -which you weren't really used to doing anymore- your envy was even bigger than usual but, strangely, your pleasure wasmore distant, as if each movement was taking you further away from the orgasm. But you didn't give up, your lower body was still on fire, as if insatiable, never satiated - although the fingers he placed on your clitoris helped a little with that -

With a final grunt from him and a long moan from you, your mutual pleasure finally came to an end. And suddenly all your senses came back to you; you felt his hips pressed against you, his hands roaming over your half-dressed body, the surface of the washbasin which was no longer really cold thanks to your own warmth, the air conditioning of the toilet which didn't even have a window and finally, the dimmed lights of the room.

He withdrew from you after a few seconds -or maybe a few minutes, you didn't even know anymore-, removed the soiled condom he had put on beforehand and wrapped it in paper before throwing it precautiously in the trash. Returning to you a moment later, he pulled up the black lace lingerie that had been left on one of your calves and pulled your dress back on, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder, in stark contrast to his rough actions earlier.

Once out of the toilet, under the innocent gaze of the other customers, he proposed to you, leaning against the wall near the exit, to meet him the next day, at an address he had given you, that of his flat. Should you? You had felt so good a few minutes before, but now that you had regained your senses, everything was confused. Sure he was charismatic, quite funny and cultured but Reiner couldn't leave your consciousness so easily, you had been through so much with him, you couldn't leave him after just one night with another man.

But you accepted. You were not committed to anything, you had only given him your name; you would have the whole day to think quietly, away from the hustle and bustle of the bar and with less alcohol flowing through your veins.

So after a simple kiss on your cheek, he called you a taxi and even opened the door for you, wishing you a good night. The ride was short, you didn't even think about him for a second but only about Morpheus, who seemed to be screaming your name, your comfortable bed was the only thing you craved now.

***

Just a tiny bit of sunlight sticking out of the door, one hand on the handle and the other on your purse, a great gulp of air escaping from your lungs and finally, the guilt that took over your mind suddenly, once the door was open.

What the fuck had you done.

The blond boy with the marked facial features was there, lying on the couch, his body covered by one of your blankets and, in his sleeping hand, his phone still open on the messaging application where you could read your name. You turned on your phone, something you hadn't done all evening.

"Where are you? You're not home." Please come back home I have a surprise for you. "Hey?" "Please tell me that you're okay at least. "I love you." "Sorry"

You were confused, it had been a long time since he had stopped sending you such messages, words that seemed to indicate his attachment to you. So you turned on one of the lamps in the living room to get a better look, because the light from the television wasn't bright enough to illuminate the whole room.

A table covered with a red tablecloth with small decorative patterns, a large candle in the centre, which had once been lit by the dripping wax but was now out and cold, two plates and cutlery, one full and one half eaten, and to top it all off, your old friend the Guilt, who was just whispering maliciously in your ears.

"You're back..."

At the sound of the still sleeping little voice, your eyes suddenly widened and your body felt heavy now, as if your legs were going to give out under your weight. But you turned back to him, not looking at all. He looked tired and was dressed in his pyjamas, a simple white tank top with grey shorts.

"Oh hi." You replied simply, a little confused by the situation.

He walked towards you, with a shy smile on his face, like a child trying to get close to a wild animal that might run away at any moment.

"I wanted to... "He looked down at your outfit and his gaze shifted for a moment, as if he'd just realised you'd spent the night away from home and, as he knew you didn't really have any friends here, that you'd spent it out there alone. But he didn't say a word and continued, "I wanted to apologise. I've been a shit to you and I know that. I'm so sorry, I know you deserve better, but I promise I'll make it up to you."

You frowned and opened your mouth, letting fresh air enter between your lips. Reiner probably read the confused and shocked expression on your face, so he continued.

"I had so much on my mind right now, you know, I feel so bad. I would do anything for you..I..I don't know...I should have told you about it my love I'm sorry." You saw a tear escape from his right eye, almost reaching his rosy cheek before he wiped it away with his hand, "Maybe we could try again?" with his fragile fingers, he took you by the hand and looked you straight in the eyes. "Please, I love you so much."

You should have been happy. You should have jumped into his arms, told him that all was forgiven, promised him a bright future, put your lips against his. But you were as if frozen, like a criminal before the police, like a slow prey before its fast predator.

So you stood there, forcing a small smile that on the surface said 'all is well' but in reality depicted your unhappiness even more than the tears. He responded to your smile, wrapping his warm arms around you, as you had so dreamed of, as you would have loved this very morning.

You couldn't even think straight. Had he planned all this for you? That's why he didn't want to go out. And you had gone elsewhere, while all he could think about was you, all he could think about was making things right.

Lying. It was the only solution. You wouldn't see Zeke again tomorrow, you would forget him, this evening would be a distant memory, like a dream so realistic that you would almost forget that it had never happened.

Like the moon on an eclipse day, it had hidden the sun, almost making you forget its beauty and warmth, temporarily providing some comfort in the dark night that the luminous orb had caused when it suddenly left.

It was tears that lulled you that night, under the mocking eye of the moon.

[neo-culture-mafia]

Mafia!NCT 127 Reaction to You Coloring Their Tattoos

Hyuck + Mark in the Dream Reaction

not proofread yet

[ posted 09 / 10 / 2020 ]

Taeyong

He had no hesitation letting you color his tattoos. "Have fun, babe." He pinched your cheek and relaxed under the big tree you were both sitting under. Today was a cool and relaxing day as Taeyong had thrown all his plans away to be with you all day.

The dragon on his bicep was now stained in hues of purple and green with accents of neon yellow creeping up his shoulder. "So, besides today, how have you been lately?" His gaze swayed from you to the inside of his eyelids as he was drifting to sleep slowly. "Okay, I suppose. Work is annoying." You laughed and his heart twinged with love. "My students are definitely taking advantage of the wedding to slack off with their work." You chuckled and Taeyong took notice of the cool metal ring that laid on your left hand. It had never looked more magical than right now. The wedding was a fairytale story to think about in another time and place. It was the talk of the town. There wasn’t a reason the students shouldn’t be talking about it.

"They're kids. They're going to goof off for a while." He laughed and looked down at his arm. The color stuck inside the lines and stained your hands wildly. Your yawn brought his attentive eyes to your sleepy frame. "Tired, already?" He laughed as you could only shrug with a sheepish grin stuck on your face.

"Come here. Let's just rest for a little bit then." He pushed the markers into the grass and his arm wrapped itself around your waist as he pulled you down and into his side. You couldn't fight it as your ear was filled with the sound of his mellowing heartbeat. His fingers danced in your hair and danced along the curves of your cheekbones till he knew you were fast asleep.

He stayed awake just looking at your angelic features as the sight of his multi-colored arm shifted his focus. It was so meaningless to you but he loved it as he knew that it came from your heart and mind.

It was you-- perfect.

Taeil

"If I have to sit through one more of these stupid underboss meetings then I swear I'm going to go ballistic-" Taeil cut you off with a laugh. "I don't want caviar and fancy fish with wine! I want chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs with a coke!" You whined as he walked in the bedroom, one hand shoving the dress shirt underneath the hem of his dress pants.

"I know, cutie. Just a couple more meetings this week then I promise I'll take a week off and we can go and take a vacation." He pulled your hands and guided you to the bathroom where an elegant dress hung on the hooks of the door. Matching with Taeil was something you looked forward to with events like these. Yet, the event itself was throwing you off.

You got dressed and stared at yourself in the mirror. The thin red spaghetti straps danced on your shoulders as it contrasted with your dark black tattoos. The heels were uncomfortable as they carried you through the door and to the base meeting house.

You sat between Taeil and Johnny who decided to come alone and without his wife. 'lucky bitch' you thought. Taeil's hand protectively gripped the inside of your thigh. The stares of the foreign feeling underbosses littered across the room. Their aura made a shiver go down your spine as Taeil read out the news from Neo Culture's territory.

Your hand rested on top of his as your thoughts drowned out your husband's usually sweet voice. You traced the tattoos on his hand lightly with your finger. You grabbed an extra pen from Johnny's seat place and started to add onto Taeil's tattoos. The red and blue inks clashed with each other even though they laid right by one another.

Taeil gripped your wrist harshly to get you to stop but the spiteful feeling sparked in your head. You grabbed his hand with your other hand and forced it on your lap. You continued drawing and coloring the shapes and words with a vengeful attitude coursing through your veins.

A break was reached and all the underbosses were dismissed from the meeting room to the dining room where food was going to be served. Yet, once the room was cleared he grabbed your wrists once more. "What the hell are you doing?"

You automatically started to pout as you deemed that this wasn't fun anymore. "I was just trying to get your attention." You mumbled as you got up and walked out of the big wooden doors. Taeil sighed and took a deep breath. He looked down to see hearts of blue and red around your initials he had tattooed on his thumb. Tiny cartoon characters danced across his hand and he realized he was overreacting.

He got up to go after you and caught you walking slowly to the dining room. He came up behind you and slipped a hand on your lower hip. "I'm sorry, baby." Taeil sighed and kissed your cheek warmly.

You shook your head and leaned into him. "No, I shouldn't have kept going when you said to stop. I'm sorry." You confided as you both turned into the room where everyone was already seated. "Here, how about this," he whispered. "Eat a little bit of food then me and you can go out for burgers after everyone leaves." He said and the look on your face gave him the energy to get through the next hour and a half.

"Really?" You asked and he nodded. You grabbed his face and gently kissed his cheek. "Now you have my seal of approval." You laughed as you rubbed the faint mark of lipstick off of his face.

You sat down ready to shove down the nasty fish eggs and wine that was about to be served.

Johnny

Nobody understood how Johnny got you to be his wife. Everyone thought that the differences would've drowned out the connection. Yet, anybody who doubted was silenced when they spent an hour with you both. The strongness of Johnny seemed minimalized whenever you walked into the room. It was quite magical.

You and Johnny sat on the 127 squad jet, bound towards New York where you both would be staying for 3 months for protection. The family was threatened with the wives and partners coming under the harshest threats.

Johnny took you and didn't look back. You were working an 18-hour shift at the hospital and he came with no warning. Just grabbed you and left.

Jaehyun and his wife were on the way to Connecticut while Mark and his girlfriend were on their way to New York too. Johnny, Mark, and Jaehyun were to meet in New York in their respective spaces to set out a plan of action. After that, Mark would spend a month in New York, then go up to Toronto, spending his last months in Vancouver. Johnny is splitting the trip up into half in New York, the rest in Chicago. Jaehyun was taking his chances by staying in Connecticut. Yet, he said he wouldn't hesitate running West if needed.set out a plan of action. The sudden news threw you off guard.

You sat with Johnny in the back of the plane in dead silence. "I'm scared." You admitted. "Why?" He asked as he turned his phone off and threw it on the table in front of both of you.

You curled up on the couch next to him, latching onto his arm protectively.  "Nothing is going to happen, sweetie." He came up to twirl your hair calmly as your heart started to race more. It was too quiet.

"Here, let's find something to do." He sighed and stood up, rummaging through the closets and storage of the plane. In a moment he returned with a pack of markers. "No paper." He frowned and sat back down with a tired sigh.

You reached forward to bring the thin cardboard box into your hands. You felt his hand rest on the small of your back as you pulled the markers out and twirled them in-between your fingers.

You looked to him to see his head leaned back and eyes shut. You grabbed his suit jacket and tugged. His head snapped up and it took him a minute to understand what you were getting at. "Oh." He sighed and shook the material off of his torso.

A simple t-shirt had been hidden underneath his blazer as you laid your eyes on his tattoos. He didn't have any hesitation as he rolled up his already short sleeves and got comfortable.

He was preoccupied with his phone as you hummed to yourself. You traced the sunflower in green and made tie-dye art on his forearms. Johnny was content with the silence and the fact he knew that you were okay and occupied.

"Wanna listen to some music, babe?" He asked as he opened his music app. "Duh." He clicked the playlist you had made for him and laughed as he watched you sing terribly into the marker. He studied your figure and facial expressions as you got caught up in coloring again. "This dragon is now going to have whiskers." You nodded but stopped quickly. "Or a mustache?" You looked at Johnny and he shrugged. "He'd look cute with some whiskers." You took the idea and plopped whiskers on the face of the dragon.

An associate who tagged along for the trip came into the back room with refreshments for the two of you. You both gladly accepted and were left alone again. "Gummy bears?" These are perfect. He threw the package at you but it went untouched as you kept drawing.

He could only laugh to himself as he opened the package for you and pulled a singular bear out. Johnny held it to your lips and was happy to you take it without much thought. You finally were happy with your artistic decisions and showed Johnny the finished piece.

"It's so nice, y/n!" He smiled and it felt like your brain was mush. You sat next to him with a content smile and a small yawn.

"Tired already?" at which you could only shrug as a response. "Then let's just watch some videos and relax." He kicked his feet up and pulled you so you were on his lap.

Johnny's phone played random videos as you latched onto him and went to sleep. He took some photos to set as his wallpaper and ultimately decided to join you in a nice nap.

(rrruuudddeee)

~~~

Yuta

"Yuta!" You called as you stepped into the large house. "I believe he's in the gazebo or his office, Miss." One of the worked associates greeted you at the front door. He grabbed the bags from your arms as you bowed politely. "Thank you so much." You were off towards the back of the house to find your husband.

"Yuta-!" You called as you rounded the corner of the house and into the back yard. The gazebo that laid just beyond the wood bridge that sat above the koi fish river-- was empty. You stopped and stared for a moment. You were sure that this is where he'd be.

"Up here, my love." A voice made you jump as you looked up to see Yuta at his office balcony. "Oh. Hi!" You waved as his eyes squinted in a smile. "How was your day out?" He asked as he brought his teacup up to his lips. "It was wonderful! I have something to show you!" You called and held up a small shopping bag in your hand. "I'll be right up!" You raced back into the house and up the stairs to where he already stood waiting for you in the doorway to his office.

"What's so amazing that you found today?" His eyebrow raised and you opened the bag quickly. "But first-" He interrupted you as he grabbed your face gently and gave you a passionate kiss. "What's this for?" You asked as he continued to stare at your face lovingly. "Just happy to see you is all." He smiled as his hands found their way into his pockets.

"Now, show me." He motioned to one of your hands that was stuck in the bag you held. You were brought back to reality and pulled the plastic package out of the bag.

"...Markers?" He asked and his tone of voice made you laugh. "Not just any markers. They're tattoo markers. They're safe for the skin." You corrected him and he rolled his eyes. "You're still on this?" Yuta asked with an amused expression. "Of course I am! This was the deal." You said shoving them into his hands so he could inspect the box.

He read the back and he had to admit...you were right.

"You said I could color your tattoos IF I found tattoo markers. Safe for the skin and everything!" He knew you did it...and that he had to hold up his part of the deal. "Okay fine." He sighed as he handed the package back. "Yay! Thank you!" You jumped and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"We can do it later before dinner." He agreed and watched you skip happily down the hall.

---- "Finally! You take forever." You sighed as you moved your sunglasses up your nose. The grass tickled your bare legs as Yuta sat next to you. "I couldn't help it. Taeyong didn't want to hang up the phone." You stood on your knees and moved behind Yuta. Your hands gently rubbed his shoulders as his head fell in an exasperated manner.

"I hate to burst your bubble, Yuta. But, I called you out here for the deal. Not a massage." He whined as he flopped down on the grass, his t-shirt lifting on his back. His head rested on his folded arms as you silently cheered.

"If this stains, I will make sure to throw out all color in your life. Your life will be a dull kaleidoscope-" "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, you big baby." You laughed and opened your pouch full of the tattoo markers.

You lifted the back of his shirt more till the full picture was revealed. A full mural was printed on his back with black ink that curved and straightened out into different objects. A dragon with demons following was the full picture...a dark reality...that you were going to make colorful.

You sat on his lower back and got to work filling in the different parts of the dragon. Every once in awhile he would spasm and try to make you mess-up. Yet, with a tug on his hair, he would become limp and obedient again.

"I'm almost done." Was the phrase that almost made him weep with joy. "Finally." He let it slip and he felt a tug on his hair again. "Ow." He rubbed his head. He could feel you draw and move the felt-tipped weapons on his back.

"Finished." You cheered and grabbed his phone to take a picture. You showed it to him and ombre scaled decorated the dragon with the demon's faces were colored red and blue. It looked nice. He saw a couple of smiley faces hidden in there and felt like everything looked complete.

"Okay, my turn now!" He yelled and grabbed your arm. He pulled you to the ground and grabbed the black marker that was in your hand. "Yuta, no." You tried fighting him. "This wasn't apart of the deal." You thrashed but he pinned you under his body weight. "Excuse me? Sorry, I don't speak Japanese." His Korean rambled off quickly from his tongue. You decided to just deal with it as he took his time drawing a mustache on your face along with random doodles he could think of.

He finally stopped his antics and took a picture with his phone to look at afterward. "You look so cute, look!" He pulled up the picture and shoved it in your face. "I look gross man!" You ridiculed but he wrapped you up in his arms quickly,

"My gross man."

Doyoung

"I thought they were going to be here already." You whined as your head hit the wall behind you. "Oh, can you stop whining for once?" He groaned as he took off his bulletproof vest. The air seemed to be getting thinner as the seconds ticked past. He stretched his legs out so they touched the opposite wall of the tiny bank vault. The velvet flooring seemed sticky as it felt like your chest was getting heavier.

You stood up and went to the closed door. Kicking and banging seemed like the only viable option. You pounded and kicked as hard and as much as you could with no luck. Tears stained your eyes as you turned around to look for another option out of here. "It's getting smaller." You whispered and Doyoung took the opportunity. "You're right, y/n. I can feel the walls pushing in!" He yelled and started to thrash and roll around on the ground. You could swear that the walls were shrinking and coming closer together. You dropped to the floor with your hands over your head, ready to be crushed by the vault walls.

Doyoung was pissed and vengeful in the beginning but now he just felt bad. You sat there silently crying as you rocked yourself back and forth. Doyoung sat opposite of you and just stared, waiting for you to snap out of it, yet, there was no hope as he watched you bring your legs closer to your chest.

He pushed your shoulder and you backed away from him quickly. "Calm down. You're wasting our air." He deadpanned. You could only nod and wipe the tears away from your eyes.

"Wanna play tic-tac-toe?" He asked and you looked around, surprised he was asking in a moment like this. "Um-" He didn't wait for an answer and grabbed your legs-- pulling you closer to where he sat.

Doyoung reached into your vest you were wearing and pulled an assortment of permanent markers out. You wiped the rest of your tears and grabbed the orange marker out of his hand. He lifted the sleeve of his long shirt and created the grid in black ink. "Wanna go first?" He asked and you took the opportunity to land an 'X' in the grid.

He followed soon after you and in no time-- he won.

Another game and another and another till no space was left. An hour had passed and you were still stuck in the bank vault.

"Fine. You win this tournament. But, I know I'll win next time." Doyoung said laying back and closing his eyes. The sweat from his bangs dripped down the side of his face.

The bottom of his shirt lifted and you could see the familiar black ink on his side. "Stop staring at me like that, pervert. I have rights." He pulled his shirt down and you let a laugh rip through your chest.

"Chill. I was just looking at your tattoo." You said and he shrugged. "What about 'em?" He asked as his eyes closed once more. "Nothing. Just looking," you sighed, "I wanted to be a tattoo artist before all of this." You motioned around the velvet interior. One eye peeked open and he looked suspiciously at your figure. "Are you any good?"

You stood on your knees and lifted your shirt so he could see the piece you were in the middle of finishing. Dragon and koi fish laid on your ribs in red ink.

"Woah." He lifted himself closer and gently touched the healing ink. "You did this yourself?" You nodded as he inspected it for a good minute.

"Give me one!" He said and shoved the red sharpie in your hand. He didn't give you time before laying on his side in a straight line. He lifted the side of his shirt and waited patiently.

You shrugged, finding nothing else better to do. He already had black ink staining his skin so you decided to add on. It was another simple dragon but it fit his character and personality perfectly.

Time seemed to slow as he tried to take a sneak peek of the masterpiece you were currently working on. He planned to take a picture later and get it done, yet, it would have to be in secret.

All of a sudden, the door popped open and cool air filled the small compartment. "Welcome back to Earth." Chenle greeted. You capped the marker and grabbed your vest as quickly as Doyoung.

You both high-tailed it out of the bank and into the street where the van was waiting with open doors. Doyoung and you jumped and rolled onto the back-ground of the van and the door was slammed shut by Jaehyun.

"Sorry about that. Jungwoo spilled Sprite on the control panel." Jaehyun explained and a guilty-looking Jungwoo sat in the passenger seat, not making eye contact.

"Woah. You got a new tattoo?" Jaehyun lifted Doyoung's shirt up more to see the red dragon you had drawn.

"Eventually."

(tf is this?? i’m not even correlating the gif with the story...because what in the actual fuck is THIS????)

~~~~~

Jaehyun

He was a very demanding man with particular tastes. You sat by yourself in your underground shop when a swarm of men came in all at once. They lead the way for a man in a sharp business suit.

I'm about to get shut down...aren't I?

He looked at you for a moment before looking around and coming towards you. "Are you the shop owner?" His voice was smooth with undertones of threatening. "Depends on who's asking," I answered honestly, "If it's for ink work or compliments: me. If you have any problems then I'll turn you over to my manager, Lucifer." You wiped down the glass counter in front of you. His chuckle rang sliced through the thick tension.

"Lucifer." You sang and made kissy noises. A long black haired cat hopped onto the glass counter next to you, hissing at the men and laying on its back. His back stretched as his paws grew long and pointy nails only for a moment. "Oh be nice, Luci." You called and picked the cat up in your arms.

"So how can we help you today?" You smiled and the man looked at you and sighed. "This will do." He called over his shoulder and you heard a bang of your shop door. Men walked around you to your workroom and began going through your papers. "Do you have any affiliations with any gangs in the local or surrounding areas?" The man asked as you dropped the cat onto the glass.

"No." You blurted and it was met with a smile. "Well, you have caught the interest of Neo Culture-" "Oh hell no." You shook your head and came around the counter. You pointed towards the staircase that was capped with the 'exit' door. "Leave." You demanded, yet, he stood still.

"I don't think you understand how this works." His smile made you shiver. "You were picked. You can't just...refuse." He motioned to the room. "You are on Neo Culture property and territory. You will work for us in exchange for a pretty...hefty amount of cash-" "And a bullet in my head if another gang comes by?" You questioned with your arms crossed over your chest. "Well, you don't need to worry about that till they show up...do you?" His reasoning made you angry.

"I just want a simple fill-in today. And if you do well, then you'll be taken care of." He went into his coat pocket and pulled out a stack of paper. "Rent, bills, groceries, and spending money. Not to mention guaranteed protection from the most feared crime family in the Asiatic continent." He smiled as he handed over the piece of paper.

You looked at it and it was of a dragon that needed to be shaded and filled in. You knew that you needed to do this...or say bye-bye to your shop and dreams.

You sighed and looked at Lucifer who sat grooming himself.

"It's all clear, sir." One of the men popped his head out of the back curtain. The man smiled at you and stuck out his hand. "Do we have a deal?" He asked and you regretted the decision as you felt your hand reach itself out in front of you. "Deal." You sighed and you lead him back to the workroom.

He made himself comfortable as he draped his jacket across the waiting chair and unbuttoned the bottom of his shirt. He lifted his business shirt until a blank tattoo was shown on the front section of his ribs.

You got yourself ready off of what the paper described. Black and red shading with a black streak thrown across the dragon's eyes. 1-2-7 was bent across the dragon's stomach as 5 stars surrounded the head of the dragon mimicking a crown.

"Lucifer. Out." You called and the cat meow'd before walking out of the curtain. "Want to listen to music while I work?" You asked and he shook his head 'no' as he preoccupied himself on his phone.

You worked quickly and efficiently as he didn't dare look at your work.

2 hours went by and you were done. "Finished." You said standing up and disposing of the used needles. He stood up and looked into the body-length mirror on the other side of the room. "Woah." Was all you heard.

"This is good work." He said and you awkwardly smiled while coming closer to him with saniderm and healing gel. "Take off the saniderm underwater, so I suggest a shower and apply the gel gently. Change the saniderm at the same time tomorrow then after that you can wait up to 6 days after to change." You explained as you rubbed the gel on the tattoo and stuck a big square of saniderm on his torso.

"Why, thank you,-" "y/n." You cut him off and you could see him smile as you turned away.

"Nice name." He smiled, "Thanks...I guess." You shrugged. "Well, some other members will be in for some days to come. Money has already been left under your counter." He redressed as you cleaned up your station.

"I hope to see you soon, y/n." He smiled and walked off in an eerie aura. You heard your shop door open and close.

You rested your hands on your counter and let a huge sigh escape your chest. Meow.

You looked over to see Lucifer peeking his head in.

"I know. He was really weird."

(back tf up?? in the middle of a pandemic??)

~~~~~

Jungwoo

"Stop running away from me you tree!" You leaped from the couch and onto your boyfriend's back. "No! You'll never catch me!" He tried to shake you off of him, yet, you latched onto him as tight as you could.

"Damn your koala grip." He tried to swing his body around and throw you to the ground. Your hands went to cover his eyes as you began to panic. "Quit moving so fast!" You pleaded and he stopped abruptly. You scrambled off of his back and just sat with your legs outstretched on the floor.

You looked up at him with a look that could kill. "Just let me have fun." You pushed yourself off the floor and pointed a finger in his face. "You can. Just not on me." He moved your hand away from his face.

You groaned and sat on the couch in a huff. "You're no fun, Woo." You muttered and he couldn't help but smile at your pouty nature.

"Sure. Whatever you say, cutie." He said excusing himself down the hall. You heard the door to the bedroom close and you were left alone. You were going to color those damn tattoos even if it killed you. You turned on the TV and watched some shows. 40 minutes had passed and you knew that Jungwoo had to be asleep.

You snuck to the closet by the kitchen and threw the door open to find the bucket of markers. You grabbed your favorite out of the selection and were off down the hall.

The door was silent as you swung it open quickly. Jungwoo laid passed out on top of the sheets. His arms were folded underneath his head as you watched his chest rise and fall slowly...in a serene manner...but it was too calm. Chaos and fun were needed.

Tip-toeing was your best option as you swiftly made yourself over. You watched his eyes roam the inside of his eyelids as you realized he was completely knocked out.

You crawled on your space of the bed and uncapped the marker with a slight struggle. The pop made Jungwoo's eyelids squeeze and release quickly.

Your heart was filled with a mischievous attitude as you softly traced along the stars that were placed on his inner bicep. Pinks and oranges were plopped onto his skin as he laid unconscious.

A couple of cartoon characters and messages later you were bored. "Guess you are right. I really do have the mind of a goldfish." You mused quietly as you closed the marker and shoved them off the bed.

You laid across Jungwoo's torso and rolled onto him so he could wake-up. "It's like watching a toddler, I swear." He groaned as he grabbed you and didn't let go.

"I could've sworn that coloring would've kept you busy for at least an hour." He sighed and you just looked at him as if he had grown 5 heads. "I'm not stupid, y/n. Don't look at me like that." Jungwoo laughed and pinched your cheek.

He held onto your waist with one arm as he examined what you had drawn on the other. "Awe they're so cute." He mused and you looked at your work once more.

"Can I get a tattoo?" You asked and he only looked at you. "Do what you feel is right, but please...please think it through." He sighed and held onto you with both hands.

"Deal."

(ooo...fluffy looking jungwoo)

[sierraraeck]

The Jailbird and the Mouse

Spencer x Fem!OC (Aundreya)

Masterlist

Summary: When Aundreya shows up to consult on a case, Spencer seems less than pleased to see her, but his actions tell a different story. Bonus chapter!

Category: Smut. Hate fuck. Apparently I’m incapable of writing a single thing without some angst, so we’ve got a sprinkle of that in there at the end, too.

Warnings: Cussing. Choking. Nicknames. Degradation. Cuffs are used. Unprotected penetration, female masturbating, oral (male receiving), fingering. Semi-public at the beginning.

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: Okay so this is supposed to take place during How to Lose Friends when they are both in their fresh, post-prison forms and are beyond pissed at each other, but you don't have to have read that chapter or the series to understand this. Also, shoutout to @writing-in-april for looking this piece over and helping me make some edits!

Things to Know: All you really have to know is that Aundreya was a criminal who’d already been to and broken out of prison, joined the BAU, Spencer and her had a previous relationship, Aundreya got Spencer sent to prison, broke him out, then took the fall for something Spencer was being accused of that she didn’t do, getting herself sent to prison again.

I’d been called back to help the BAU solve a case. Fascinating how when it was convenient for them, I held some value. But, after that I was just easy to throw in a jail cell to be forgotten about.

I didn’t want to be there, but unfortunately I didn’t have a choice. So, I closed my eyes, and took a long, deep breath before forcing the door open. I had barely entered the room, barely had made eye contact with Hotch standing opposite me, before both my shoulder blades were shoved against the wall behind me, with long fingers wrapping around my throat.

“What is she doing here?” the hiss in Reid’s voice sounded exactly how I’d imagined it in my head preparing for this encounter. He looked almost as bad as me. His curls were going in a million directions, and I could only imagine the amount of times he’d run his hands through them, probably due to stress. His eyes were blood-shot, slightly puffy, and the dark bags underneath seemed more defined. The only thing that contrasted all of that, and let me know his head was still in it, was the darkness he now held in his eyes. There was nothing lighthearted or soft about them anymore, at least, not for the moment and certainly not for me. Plus, there was a red-hot rage I could see boiling at the surface. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror, a warped version of myself being reflected back to me. I’d seen the same fury and darkness in my eyes every morning that was in his now, and the irritation that radiated off him matched my own. Really, the only difference between Spencer and I, was he still had his gun and badge and I didn’t.

“I was invited to help consult,” I snapped through my somewhat restricted breath. “So you better get the fuck off me.”

He gave my throat one last tight squeeze before stepping back, his intense gaze never leaving me. I met his gaze with a wicked smile while brushing my fingers over where the ghost of his hand used to be. I wanted him to see that he didn’t affect me. Angry or not, he held no power in our dynamic anymore.

“Chambers, good to see you,” Derek mocked, giving me a side eye laced with suspicion.

“Can’t say I feel the same,” I deadpanned, then turning on Hotch. “So, why am I here?”

“We have reason to believe that a rogue gang member is kidnapping and killing ex-military if they refuse to join,” Hotch explained with seemingly no emotion, as if he was unaffected by my presence.

“Cool,” I deadpanned again before asking, “So why do you need me?”

“We wanted to know if you know anything or have heard anything-” Derek started.

“Heard anything?” I cut him off with a scoff, “You mean besides the constant clanging of metal bars when I’m not left in complete silence by myself? No, I haven’t heard anything.”

“Can you find them?” Spencer asked as if it would be a difficult task for me.

“So you do want my help,” I clarified.

“I want your skills.”

I let out a disgusted chuckle in response to his quip. Venom dripped from my words as I voiced my thoughts from only moments before stepping into the room. “Oh, I get it. You only want me around when it's convenient for you. Otherwise you just wanna give up on me and let me rot in a cell.”

“What was I supposed to do!”

“What were you supposed to do?” I asked in disbelief, eyes wide. “What were you supposed to do?” I mumbled to myself again in a mocking tone, rolling my eyes. I put my hands on the back of the empty chair in front of me I assumed had held Spencer at one point, and leaned in toward him. He’d retreated behind the table since releasing me, and I quietly snarled towards him, “I don’t know, but sitting there on your tiny, plushy ass, wasn’t it. I’m leaving.”

Spencer was back over to me in a flash, slamming his hand on the door before I could even reach for the handle. Someone got better reflexes. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“We have a suspect list that we want you to review.” Hotch caught me before I pushed Spencer out of my way.

“Fine. Make it quick.” I looked over the list Hotch gave me that contained about 30 men, none of which rang any bells. “This was a waste of time.”

“Hold on, guys,” Garcia trotted in, “I just found something.” She was in such a rush that she initially didn’t see me, bee-lining it straight for Hotch. Handing the iPad over to him, her eyes lifted to take in the rest of the room. That’s when she noticed me. Her eyes grew to the size of beach balls, and her perfectly done lips hung open. I tried not to feel too hurt, knowing that my presence would come as a shock to her, but it still stung seeing her at a loss for words, possibly even scared. She’d really been the only person who still had any hope left for me, and I was starting to wonder if that was true anymore.

My voice softened as I greeted, “Hey, Penelope.”

She struggled for words, a few ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’ headed my direction, ultimately being saved by Hotch. “Dave, you’re with me. Prentiss, Morgan, I want you to go to the ME, Garcia we’ll need you on call, and JJ, Lewis, I want you to go talk to this man.”

“What about me?” Spencer asked.

“You’re going to stay here and watch her,” Hotch commanded. I started laughing at Spencer’s visible discomfort. Spencer glared at me before opening his mouth to argue, but Hotch stopped him with a voice filled with authority, “I know you won’t be able to focus out there if you know she’s still here unattended. Let’s go.”

When everyone had left and the door shut behind them, I sang, “Well if it isn’t Doctor Reid drawing the short end of the stick, yet again.”

“Just sit down and shut up,” he tried to order with confidence as he took his own advice, sitting as far away from me as possible. Not once had he looked me in the eyes since I’d initially walked in and he had attacked me. Sure, his eyes were on me, but they never connected with mine.

“Is that a demand, doctor?” I challenged him.

“No, but it could be. I just don’t want to be the one responsible for letting you get away.” He shrugged in his chair, resting the ankle of his leg on the knee of the other.

“So you’re just gonna trust me to do what you ask?” I questioned. Throughout the entire time I’d known Spencer, he’d never gotten super riled up over something, but this was a whole different Spencer, one that I didn’t recognize or know . He was more on edge, confident, and clearly willing to wrap his hand around my throat with no hesitation. A type of Spencer I was more than happy to get to know. And let’s face it, I’d been in prison for 15 months. There wasn’t a ton of action going on in there that I wanted to get involved with. I just wanted to see how far I could push him before he snapped. “You don’t trust me, and you know you can’t. I put you in prison, just because I could,” I shrugged, contradicting what I’d insinuated earlier for my own entertainment, “and you think that I won’t just walk away from you when given the chance?”

“You’ve had the chance. For the past three minutes and forty-six seconds you could have left and you didn’t. What’s keeping you here?” he smugly fired back. Oh yeah, he’s definitely going to be fun to mess with.

“What’s keeping you here?” I copied, “Why’d Hotch bench you again? Because you can’t focus when I’m around?”

“No one can focus with you around!” he huffed hotly.

“Not well, but they certainly can do better than what you’re doing right now,” I patronized, “What is it about me that makes you all so nervous, huh? I’m just another criminal who happens to be a former co-worker. I thought you were used to working with those day in and day out.”

“Criminals or co-workers?”

“Either.”

“None of them are like you,” he bit.

“Oh I know,” I ran my tongue over my lips, “So I’ll ask again, what is it about me that makes me so different?”

He looked up at me. In contrast to the first time he locked eyes with me, his expression was stone cold. “You were a part of this team, and you betrayed us. You betrayed me. I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid to believe you were actually helping us! I just want to know why you picked me. You were going to take one of us down, why’d you choose me?” I could see the gears spinning in his head, and was about to answer when he frustratedly added, “Was it because you thought I’m the weakest?”

That’s it. That’s what’s always made him tick. And he used the present tense. We were still an entire table length apart, so I started slowly sauntering toward him. I prodded, “Is that what you think? You believe you’re the weakest on the team? Or do you just think that’s what I thought?”

“We all have our roles,” he responded, but not nearly as confident as he had been before.

“That’s not an answer,” I pushed.

“You still haven’t answered me, either,” he growled, and I decided to let this one go. We didn’t need to fully delve into his insecurities, no matter how much I wanted to.

“It was similar to that. You were the most afraid of me, I could smell it in the air.” I closed my eyes and pretended to revel in the stench of fear. “But, I could’ve gotten any one of them if I wanted.”

Spencer scoffed at that, “I think you overestimate your abilities.”

“I don’t,” I quickly fired back, “I could’ve gotten any of them, and to be honest, I was going to go after Derek, or maybe Emily, but then you spoke up from the corner of the room and I knew it had to be you.”

“Why?”

“Why this, Aundreya, and why that, Aundreya? Is that the only question you can ask?”

“Is it the only question you can’t answer?”

I was about halfway to him now, and decided to give him a little false hope. “I picked you, not because of your intellect, or how the rest of the team coddles you, or how relationship starved you are. I picked you because I could see something in your eyes that was different, something dark. And once I heard your full back story, I realized just how similar the two of us are.”

“We are nothing alike,” he insisted.

“Really? Because had you made one different choice or one thing went just a little bit wrong, you could have ended up just like me, with no family and no one to give a shit about you or what you do, except for the cops who just wanted you locked up and controlled.” I was dangerously close to him now, his head tilted to look at me, but he didn’t cower away. He actually seemed to welcome it. Which reminded me of something, “After knowing all of that, my past and everything I was, you still agreed to let me on your team.”

“I was the last person to say yes to you joining,” he informed me. This was news to me, but I couldn’t even be sure if he was telling me the truth. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be working with us, but I was outnumbered and outranked.”

“No, you caved to their wishes,” I twisted his words to suit my needs, “Like you caved to mine.” I slowly reached down to place a hand on his chest. He eyed it all the way until I made contact with him, and it was like flipping a switch. He grabbed my wrist and held it close as he pushed out of his chair, the wheels spinning it wildly back into the monitor. He reached for my other wrist, which I let him grab, and held me against the wall, arms pinned next to my head. I did everything I could to not smirk. And he’s still caving.

“I didn’t want you here. I resisted the idea of you being around us,” he spat.

“Like you’re resisting the idea of being around me right now?” I arched an eyebrow, scanning him from head to toe, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on a few spots. He opened his mouth to say something, but he shut it again, locking his jaw. I could see his genius mind at work, trying to come up with some way out of the little mouse trap I’d set up for him. I watched his eyes trail down to my lips and neck, soaking it all in. When his eyes met mine again, I tried to reach for him, but he forcefully slammed my hands back, pinning me to the wall again. Though, I wanted him to touch me this time. He was taking too long to make a move for my liking, so I decided if I couldn’t use my arms, I might as well use my legs.

All of his weight was already leaning toward me, so it wasn’t difficult to wrap my right leg around his waist and bring him all the way to me. The moment that they were within inches of my face, I attacked his lips. I was almost disappointed by the fact that he didn’t seem surprised at all, as if he knew how impatient I was and knew that I would force the first move. But, I wasn’t disappointed for long.

Spencer’s whole body was pressed against mine as he quickly swiped his tongue across my bottom lip, looking for entrance. I granted it, but I wasn’t going to give him the complete dominance that he wanted over the kiss. Instead, our tongues slid over each other’s searching for more than the other was willing to give. It was hot and messy, and he released his grip on my wrists, moving them to apply the same amount of force to my jaw. With my hands free, I made quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt, ripping it open. I was expecting skin and sighed when I found yet another shirt. This man and his layers.

Spencer took advantage of me sighing, giving him more access to my mouth, which I wanted to be annoyed about, but couldn’t care to be. I decided to make better use of my hands, running them down the sides of his body as he wrapped his behind my back. He pulled away from me so abruptly when I tried to massage him through his slacks, he basically dropped me on the floor. It was like being left out in a cold winter storm, just barely out of arm's reach of warmth.

Spencer shook his head, eyes on the floor, as if that would clear his mind of what clouded it, which was me. But I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “There. You got what you wanted.”

I gaped at him before retorting, “We both know it wasn’t just me who got what I wanted. I’m sure you had a hard time pulling away.”

He glared at me as he rolled the chair back toward the desk and took a seat, “Not really. I have important work to do.”

I stood there staring at him trying to compose himself. His face was red and he tugged at his pants before crossing his leg over the other. I pressed my lips together, but still failed to contain the small laugh that escaped through my nose.

“Sure,” I mocked, “Especially since everyone else on the team is already doing that work for you.” He didn’t look up from whatever papers were on the table, trying in vain to ignore me, though I wasn’t ready to have his attention off me yet.

I shut the folder that he was in the middle of reading, not like he was actually reading it considering how long it was taking him to flip the page, and sat right on top of it. He was about to reach for it again, but retracted his hand at lightning speed when my legs got in the way. I flashed another mockingly sweet smile his way, but he looked out toward the window, right next to the wall I’d just come from. I swung my legs back and forth off the side of the table just a bit, careful not to completely kick Spencer in the shin, though I couldn’t help but let my toes accidentally tap him a few times. As with all of the other times I’d touched him, he moved out of the way, uncrossing his legs with a perfect foot-sized gap in between his knees. I rested my foot in that small gap on the chair, rolling his body closer to me. Then, for no other reason than wanting to feel him squirm underneath me, I plopped down on his lap, my legs straddling his. I pretty much had him locked in his seat.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, a look of complete indifference gracing his face, but I knew it was just a front.

“Just making sure you’re doing your job,” I replied, winking at him.

“And… how do you think this is helping me do my job?”

“I’m making sure you’re paying attention to me,” I whispered in his ear seductively, lacing my fingers together on the back of his neck, “Plus, I’m doing what you asked me to. How did you put it? Sit down and shut-”

Using his thumb and forefinger, he pinched my cheeks and brought my lips to his forcefully. The kiss was just as hungry as the last, teeth clashing and tongues furiously fighting. He moved his long fingers onto my hips with a bruising grip, which I had absentmindedly started grinding against his. He pulled away from me for a moment, and his harsh tone reminded me that this was nothing like the last time we’d been together, when we’d both been a bit more innocent. “You never did have any manners at work.”

I smirked, “I know. Imagine my manners at home.”

A low, almost inaudible groan came from Spencer’s throat at my suggestion, but he tried to cover it up by moving my hair out of the way and latching his lips onto the side of my neck. I gasped at the contact of his teeth pulling at my soft flesh, paired with the feeling of his growing bulge pressed against my core. His fingers gripped my hips harder and moved them faster, drawing a small whimper from my lips. I felt him smile as he trailed kisses down my neck to my collar bone, leaving a single bite mark there. I tried so hard to contain my high-pitched moan when he moved one of his hands from my waist to pinch one of my nipples through my shirt.

But I was supposed to be the clear-headed one, so I forced myself to not get too wrapped up in the feeling. If I wanted to get to my end goal, I was going to have to leave him wanting more, which unfortunately in turn meant leaving myself in the same condition.

My hips had gotten faster along with Spencer’s hands, but when I felt him start to buck his hips up against me, I knew that he was getting close and it had to end. Immediately, I stopped my movements and untangled myself from him, but not before dragging a finger up the column of his throat, sneering, “Too bad. I could’ve helped you, had you done anything to help me.”

I left that open for interpretation, either as a jab to his masculinity or to what started my rage in the first place: being left in prison. He didn’t ask for clarification either, clearly too bothered by being left on edge. He did, however, follow up with, “Help you? Why would I want to do that? You’re a terrible person.”

I grinned as if receiving a medal of honor, “That I am, Doctor.”

I moved the lay down on the couch while Spencer attempted to refocus on his work. I made a show of sighing a couple times and rolling around ‘to find a comfortable position’ on the couch, just to piss him off. I could tell it was working based on his clenched fists turning white, and the way his leg was jumping. He was resting his head in his hand, which almost perfectly shielded my face from his.

He still wasn’t turning the page, so I offered, “Can you flip the page by yourself, or do you need some help?”

He wasn’t given the opportunity to respond, because Hotch, followed by most of the team, came barreling through the door.

“Colby Ulton, 43 years old, has a long record and wasn’t home,” JJ announced, following Hotch. It’d been a while since I had to deal with their inhuman pace when it came to talking about unsubs and profiles, so most of the stuff they said next flew over my head.

I was way behind in the conversation, but none of that mattered when Hotch turned to me, “Colby Ulton. I want you on him.” He'd barely gotten the command out before I was reaching for the door handle.

“I don’t.” The words were hot and dry and coming from none other than Doctor Reid. I rolled my eyes. He moved to step in front of the door, blocking my passage out again, leaning casually with his back against it, arms crossed. Our faces were barely centimeters apart.

“Why not?” I asked in a mock-curious voice.

“I don’t trust you. Who’s to say you won’t just run off? Then we’d let a high-profile criminal walk free. Plus, we’re not even sure he’s the right man,” Spencer pointed out. I was going to point out how I had just made that same argument about me leaving, and he refuted it himself only to bring it back up now, but I didn’t get the chance.

“He’s the best we’ve got right now,” Derek countered. I could tell he sort of just wanted me out of the room, but Spencer’s motives appeared very different.

He never took his eyes off of mine as he recited, “We think it’s a rogue gang member who’s either left or been kicked out within the past year. Ulton’s been in prison, which could mean he’s gone rogue, or it could mean he’s joined a new gang, one that, as you probably know, wouldn’t allow this type of acting out. Either way, he hasn’t demonstrated gang affiliated behavior in almost three years. Not to mention he had his tattoo removed and is out of our age range. I don’t think putting her on, most likely, the wrong man’s trail is worth the risk of letting her walk free.”

The room was silent as we all waited for someone else to make the first move. I decided to be that person. “So what do you suggest they do with me, hm?” I questioned, walking my two fingers up his chest with each word. Then I leaned in and made it very clear, “Because I am not going back to prison.”

I bit his earlobe on the way back, and I saw the way his pupils dilated just slightly at the feeling, “I’ll watch her for the night.”

“What?” Derek and I said at the same time, but our facial expressions were very different.

“Yes,” he stated, more confidently now, “She has nothing to do right now, but we might need her later in the investigation, so sending her all the way back to prison doesn’t make sense.”

“And you'll make sure she doesn’t escape?” Derek questioned.

“She hasn’t so far, has she?” Spencer challenged. When he got unnerved looks from the rest of the team, he assured, shooting a small smirk my way, “Trust me, she won’t.” How cute. He thinks he can wrap his skinny little fingers around my neck and pull a moan from me once, and all the sudden he’s in control. He switched our position, pinning me up against the door, clasping the handcuffs back around my wrists in front of me. I was starting to think he had a thing for pushing people into walls. It was his turn to whisper in my ear, “And you won't want to.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When we arrived back at his apartment, I took a moment to survey the room. It looked almost exactly as it had the last time I’d been there. Books piled up everywhere, papers strewn all over the desk, a little dark and dusty, maybe a bit more worn, but nothing too out of the ordinary. The only difference was that it no longer suited him as well anymore. He used to be this shy, studious, loner-type that didn’t really like people, and he had a certain innocence about him. There was nothing innocent about him anymore. He didn’t seem shy either, much more confident; still studious and a loner though. However, I bet he liked having at least one person over at all times, or not being home at all. It meant that he didn’t have to be alone with his own mind, and after being in solitude myself, and knowing that he’d been in there too, that feeling of complete silence, utter aloneness, was something we’d never want to experience again. We were honestly perfect for each other in that way.

The other thing I’d noticed, based on what I'd seen of him within the last few hours and what I knew prison could do to a person, I guessed he went off of instinct rather than intelligence more than he ever had in his life.

Spencer had to take the time to shrug off his satchel and kick off his shoes, neither of which I even had. All I had was myself and what I was wearing, which wasn’t much. At least I wasn’t in an orange jumpsuit anymore.

“Wow, you’ve really renovated the place,” I snickered. Spencer didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and brushed past me. I forced my wrists outward a couple times, making a clanking sound with the cuffs, asking, “You gonna take these off?”

He faced me with a smirk and shook his head slightly, “Don’t think so.” Pulling out a chair at the puny kitchen table, he sat down, and I felt like we were much in the same position we’d been in at the office. I was in his home turf, if I could even call it that, but I wasn’t just going to let him be in charge.

I decided to go straight for the jugular, “Why’d you bring me home, Spence?”

“This isn’t home, not for you,” he snapped.

I scoffed, “Doesn’t look like it is for you, either, but that doesn’t change the question.”

“I told you. I didn’t want to risk you running away.”

“You didn’t want to lose me?” I inquired. He could hear the way I was rephrasing it to change the narrative, not like I was wrong, but he successfully dodged it.

“I didn’t want to lose an asset over the wrong man, tipping the right one off, and potentially risking him going underground. I’m just trying to catch an unsub,” he shrugged.

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” I shook my head in amusement.

“You don’t?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“Of course I do,” I quickly answered.

“Then answer this,” Spencer squared his shoulders, now completely facing me, “Why didn’t you run the moment you got the chance?”

“I had three FBI personnel in the car with me, then a team of BAU agents surrounding me, and then was left alone in the same room as an agent who can shoot 100 on his test. I am many things, but I am not stupid nor am I suicidal.”

“How’d you know I shot 100?” Spencer followed up.

I smiled, “I know things.”

“How about all the chances you got when you were in prison? You’ve broken out plenty of times before, why not do it again?” He was leaning forward, and he seemed genuinely curious.

It was a good question, one that I actually hadn’t pre-thought the answer to. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting to even make it this far. “I was biding my time.”

“For..?”

“Leverage.” It was a simple word, but one that seemed to make a great impact. Spencer leaned back in his chair and contemplated my answer. It wasn’t a complete lie either, I just didn’t want to give away too many details.

Spencer finally whispered, “Against?”

I flashed him a wicked smile. “You.” His face contorted into something I couldn’t fully recognize, eyes narrowing. “You, Spencer. I’ve been waiting for you to make an error, a mistake. That was the one flaw in my plan, that while I picked the easiest to emotionally manipulate, I picked the hardest to mentally manipulate. And you don’t make very many mental mistakes, do you Spencer?” I asked, approaching him. I’m really hoping you’d like to cash one in right now, though. I could practically see the internal argument being fought inside Spencer’s head; one side telling him to give in, it wasn’t that bad, the other telling him to resist, that somehow, this would corrupt him further. I needed the former to win. “You wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in the moment, would you? You wouldn’t crack, take what you want, what you need, what you deserve against your better judgement. Because you’re all brain, Spencer. All brain, and no heart.”

That’s what did it.

Spencer literally swept me off my feet, tossing me onto the couch like a rag doll. His hand returned to my throat as if it belonged there, and he pushed open my legs with his knees. My hands may have been cuffed, but they could still be useful. I moved them to start unbuttoning his shirt when he swatted them away. He spat, “I’m not heartless. Not like you.”

“No,” I agreed, “You’re worse. At least I can admit to what I am. You just hide behind a badge and gun.”

Spencer shoved two fingers in my mouth, probably trying to shut me up. I smirked, running my tongue up and down the long digits, making sure to give him a preview of what was to come if he’d let it. His other hand trailed down the side of my body until it reached the waistband of the pants I was wearing. Forcefully, he yanked them down, taking my panties with them. I knew I was already pooling, but of course he had to rub it in. Snarky, he mocked, “For someone who talks a big game, you’re already looking pretty weak.”

I silently cursed my body for finding him arousing, and was about to have to come up with a clever comment when I saw Spencer pause. He was charging straight into this, and then he just stopped. I tilted my head, “Worried you don’t have it in you?”

Spencer met my eyes, and cooly stated, “I’m not going to let you be my mistake.”

Dammit. When I felt him start to pull away, I knew I had to say something to get him to stay. I needed to turn this into an advantage in his eyes, not just mine. “Why? So you can let this rage build up inside of you, eat away at your every thought, until you snap? What then? You lash out during a case, which causes someone to die, either because of your incapabilities or at your hand? And what for? Because you’re still mad at me? I’m right here in front of you, Spencer! You’re never going to get a chance like this again, so just do something!” By the end, it was a plea, and one that was brutally answered.

Spencer pushed two of his fingers inside me, already moving at a quick pace. I let out a small yelp at the sensation which clearly pleased Spencer. I attempted to refocus on unbuttoning his shirt, which became increasingly difficult because of how he was curling his fingers to hit that spot just right. I barely finished, pushing his shirt away from his shoulders when he leaned away from me, taking both of his fingers with him. I was about to complain until I saw him dropping his shirt to the ground and unbuckling his belt, pushing his own pants and underwear out of the way in a similar fashion as he’d done to mine. He pumped his fist over his shaft a couple of times before lining himself up between my wide open legs. He teased my clit with the tip of his cock, and I could feel the precum beading there. I bit my lip as I looked up at him.

Spencer’s eyes were blown when he quietly demanded, “Say it.” He wants me to beg. I was okay with him thinking he was in charge for now, so I played into it by shaking my head. He slammed my cuffed wrists against the arm of the couch just above my head, bringing his face so close I could feel his lips brush mine as he repeated, “Say it.”

It was more forceful the second time, and something about his hot breath on my face and the feeling of his hips trying, and failing, to stay still against mine pulled a whimper all too genuine from my lips, “Punish me.”

At my words, he slammed his cock in my entrance, setting a merciless pace. With no time to adjust to his length, the heat burning between my legs got fiercer. The sounds of his hips hitting mine filled the room, both of us trying to control our moans, not wanting the other to know how much we were really enjoying it. My back arched off the couch, sending my fingers over the arm, brushing over thin objects on the small table there. A pen and paper clip.

I pressed my lips together to contain the grin that just about took over my face. Looking down at Spencer, who was way too busy biting marks into my skin, I could tell he hadn’t noticed the detrimental error I’d just realized he’d made. I made quick work of unclasping the cuffs from around my wrists, but left them on loosely just for show.

The coil in my stomach was getting tighter and tighter, and while I usually would have tried to control myself, I let the moans tear through my lungs. This caught Spencer’s attention, perring up at me with a twinkle in his eyes, one that told me he thought he had me. He mouthed into my neck, “This too much for you to handle, Jailbird?”

I scoffed at his pet name. Alright Doctor Reid, you’ve had your fun. Now let me show you how to really be in charge. “Not in the slightest, Mouse,” I quipped. Before he could think, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and put my hands on the back of his head. I flipped us off the side of the couch, landing on top of Spencer. With the wind knocked out of him, I quickly grabbed his wrist, clasping one of the cuffs around it, looping the chain behind the couch leg, then synching the other around his free wrist. I placed his head on the ground and leaned back, tracing patterns on his chest.

It took him a moment to realize what had just happened, but I saw the moment the light went off. “You filthy bitch.”

I chuckled, “It seems as though that genius memory of yours forgot that I’m a criminally sound escape artist.”

He was fuming, but contained himself long enough to ask, “What changed?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Since last time? You had no problem letting me take control then.”

I simply stated with disgust, “I was soft then.”

“Who’s to say you aren’t still now?” Spencer challenged.

I laced my fingers with his as I pinned them to the ground, my turn to be the one looking down on him, faces only centimeters apart. We locked eyes as I explained, “You can see it too, I know you can. I wake up and see it in the mirror every day, and I see it in you too now. It’s in your eyes. That darkness. That feeling of destruction, of being broken, of being a monster. It’s there. I can see it like it’s my own.”

I expected him to snap at me. To argue with a clever quip. But he didn’t. Spencer leaned up as far as he could and kissed me. Not in the angry, predatory-like way that we had earlier, but really kissed me. I was so taken aback by the gesture that I practically jumped off him after a few seconds. I hated myself for letting it happen for even that long.

I stormed away from him, hissing, “Don’t try to get my sympathy now that you’re the one chained like a dirty animal. I’m not gonna fall for it.”

I saw something quick flash across his face before it hardened again. I could feel his eyes following my every move as I walked away, so I decided to make a show of it. I swished my hips back and forth, and even bent all the way over to pick up our clothes for no reason, just so he could have a perfect view between my legs. I heard the rattle of the cuffs against the couch and smirked to myself.

Tossing the clothes as far away as possible, I reached under my shirt to unclasp my bra, slipping it out one of the arm holes. I spun it around my index finger a couple of times before letting it fly off in the direction of the rest of our clothes. Toying with the hem of my shirt, I rhythmically moved it around my body so that he could only see some exposed skin at a time. I slowly pulled it higher and higher until I removed the garment completely. Standing completely bare in front of him, looking down on his naked body, I’d never felt more in control.

Spencer was drilling holes into me as I got down on my knees, crawling toward him. Again, his hands shot forward only to be stopped by the metal. I tutted, “Now, now, Mouse. That’s not how this works.”

I stroked a single finger up his length, and when it brushed over the tip, he squeezed his eyes shut. I wetted my lips as I wrapped a single hand around his cock, starting at an agonizingly slow pace, a stark contrast to the one he’d set earlier. I had barely started moving at a faster pace when Spencer started to buck his hips up into my hand. I slammed his hips back down with my other arm, giving him a cold look. His hips stilled and I knew he was getting desperate.

I flattened my palm against his lower belly, making sure he’d stay in place as I steadily picked up the pace. Spencer threw his head back when I swiped my tongue over his tip, and huffed when I retracted my hands, breaking contact all together.

I hummed, “Actually, this isn’t that interesting.” I scooted back on the floor, holding eye contact with his piercing irises as I spread my legs wide open for him to see. Neither one of us has had our release yet, so I might as well take mine and leave him high and dry.

I brushed my fingertips down my body, cupping my breasts on the way, until I reached my clit. I started to rub circles over the bundle of nerves, not realizing how close I already was. I let out exaggerated moans as I continued my ministrations, steadily pushing myself toward the edge.

“Stop.” It was barely a whisper, and I wasn’t sure if I even heard it, so I ignored it. Right as another moan ripped through my lungs, I heard Spencer say, louder and more demanding this time, “Stop.”

I was too close to stop. I barely had the mental capacity to smirk down at him before I felt my release crash over me like a tidal wave. For dramatic effect, I whined out Spencer’s name as my walls clenched around nothing, helping myself through my orgasm. Slowly coming down from my high, my head lulled back, release seeping into his rug.

Barely allowing myself to catch my breath, I leaned forward onto my knees, and looked at Spencer’s face, which was red with anger or desperation I couldn’t tell, but brought my lips down on his dick regardless. He grunted at the sensation, and I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I swirled my tongue around him until I couldn’t anymore, opting to just trace a protruding vein instead. I started to hollow out my cheeks when he bucked up into me, forcing me to take all of him in at once. He groaned when I started gagging around his length, and when I coughed after pulling off him, he had the audacity to laugh.

“Having trouble there, Jailbird?” Spencer smugly asked. I looked down at his length laying against his stomach and saw that it was a deep red, and had to have been painfully hard at that point. With that in mind, along with my recent release, I crawled over him.

I looked at him as I hovered my pussy just above his cock. “I wouldn’t be worried about me. I’d be worried about how you’re gonna take care of yourself with your hands cuffed if I decided I’m done with you.”

That threat wiped the smug look right off his face. I was already wet again, and allowed him to only barely feel what was waiting for him if he behaved, lowering myself down so his length was just brushing my lips.

His face contorted and then he said the word of my victory, “Please.”

Taking hold of his cock in one hand, I lined myself up, and slowly sunk down. He filled me up completely, a bit thicker than I remembered, and I sat comfortably in his lap. This was clearly what Spencer wanted, but there was no way in hell it was going to be that easy. I just sat there looking at him, and based on the crazed look on his face, he was expecting me to start moving immediately.

We stared each other down for a moment before his whole body jerked forward, hands yanking on the cuffs. It was my turn to laugh at his pathetic struggles, but I still didn’t have quite what I wanted yet. Raising my hips up, I quickly slammed them down, pulling the loudest groan I’d heard from Spencer. When I didn’t move again, he started squirming underneath me, and I asked, “What is it you want me to do, Mouse?”

Then he broke, his strangled pleas music to my ears, “God, fuck me, please, just fuck me!”

I grinned as I captured his lips in a vicious kiss, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth. Steadying myself with my palm on his chest, I lifted my hips up, only to let them fall back into his lap. I started slower than either of us wanted, letting myself adjust to his full size before bouncing freely on his dick. The sounds of our heavy moans filled the air, sweat collecting on our bodies.

I was honestly surprised at how long Spencer had lasted when he let out one final shriek before coming undone below me. He’d given up, completely relaxed on the floor as I started chasing my second orgasm. Spencer peered up at me through hooded eyes, and soon enough starting letting out cries, and I knew I was pushing him. I didn’t want to completely overwhelm him but I was so close…

I wouldn’t get there, not yet anyway, because Spencer did something I was not expecting. The couch hit the floor with a loud thud, giving Spencer the freedom to move his arms. He wrapped the chain of the cuffs around the back of my neck and flipped me over in one swift motion, almost identical to how I’d just done it to him.

I was completely caught off guard, and let a surprised squeak leave my lips. I was almost impressed. Almost.

As if he could see straight into my mind, Spencer remarked, “I’m a quick study.” His entire body weight was over me, and there was very little wiggle room for an escape.

I followed Spencer’s eyes as he scanned around the room, glanced at his wrists, then sighed when he spotted his pants. Must’ve been where he put the key.

I raised my pitch and snidely sang like a schoolgirl, “Whatcha gonna do Mouse? You gonna fuck me like the inmate you are, or are you gonna free yourself, hm?”

Pressing his hands down on either side of my perfectly laid out ones above my head, the chain between the cuffs digging into my forearms, he chided, “I’m sure I can handle you just fine with them on. I’m not quite done with you yet, Jailbird.”

My walls fluttered around his cock at the gravelly sound of his voice and the threat that accompanied it. It’s as if he’s chained to me. I shuddered happily at the thought.

“Is that what this is about?” Spencer hissed, clearly catching my pleased look and the way my pussy pulled him in a little more at his harsh words, “You just enjoy seeing me as some twisted killer?”

“I enjoy seeing you for who you truly are.”

I wasn’t able to form another coherent thought after that one, the pace Spencer was pounding into me like one I’d never felt. He fucked his cum from only seconds ago back into me, the wet sound of our mixing fluids filling the room. I could barely focus on where his hands had moved to, teasing my nipples, because the fire between my legs was jumping higher and higher. As it finally burned through me in the sweetest way possible, I reached to grab onto anything, the first thing my fingers found being Spencer’s hair. He growled when I tugged, but his pace never let up.

As I came down from my high, Spencer didn’t stop. The feelings were becoming too strong, too overpowering, pleasure bordering on pain. I tried to pull my hips away from his, but there was nothing I could do. To stop my squirming, he sat back slightly and pressed his large palms down on my hip bones. Moving also changed the angle he was slamming into me, now bottoming out with each thrust. I needed some reprieve.

“Spencer,” I whined, but there was a nothingness in his eyes.

His hands snaked up to my throat, applying massive pressure to my windpipe. “Is this what you wanted?” Spencer yelled, “Is this what you think I truly am?”

I was having trouble getting the air into my lungs, let alone respond. I wanted to force him to face his reality of being an ex-con, knowing how shitty it was to be on the inside and just letting me sit in there. A consequence of my own actions, but considering I was doing it to save him, I was looking for a little bit more effort on the getting out process.

But he’d left me in there. He didn’t care. He didn’t care despite the fact that he knew what I was going through, that I could tell he was still dealing with his own PTSD and not well, and that everything had changed for him. People looked at him and treated him differently. He was a different person. Corrupt. And he’d only been in there for not even three months.

I’d been in there for five times as long.

I wanted him to realize just how much damage him and his useless team were doing to me by not helping me get out. I wanted him to realize how fucked up that was, and how terrible of a person that made him. I wanted him to realize he was just as big of a monster as I was.

I accomplished that. But I underestimated how much darkness he’d really been holding back.

My head started to feel light, and I could tell I was on the brink of my third release. The sound of skin slapping skin was sinful and I couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his tip hitting my a-spot, the way my legs were shaking around his body, the way the muscles in his back felt against my nails as I clawed them down it. My release came quicker than Spencer’s, who wasn’t too far behind me. His thrusts became shallower, as he spilled into me for the second time. It was as if all the energy had been drained out of me in an instant, along with my anger and hatred. Spencer rolled off of me, and I saw his figure weakly collapse to the ground.

It was an eerie calm, the sound of absolute nothingness, the only disturbance being our labored breathing.

I didn’t know how long it’d been when Spencer’s voice, the softest I’d heard it since the day’s start, whispered, “Are you okay?”

I glanced at him with a confused look. He let out a small sigh at my non response, collecting himself before walking over to his long forgotten pants for the cuffs key. After freeing his wrists, he walked back over to me and helped me up, ushering me to the bathroom.

I could tell he was examining me, but it wasn’t until I stood in front of the mirror that I realized why. “Look at those bruises around your neck, Jailbird. They suit you.”

The bruises were deep and already turning a nice purple. I scanned the rest of me finding more bruises on my hips, thighs, shoulders, wrists, and not to mention the bite mark on my collar. I scanned Spencer next, his only bruises coming from his wrists and the red marks I left on his back. “I wasn’t expecting that from you.”

He met my eyes in the mirror, “What were you expecting?”

I shook my head, “I don’t know.” I truly didn’t. I went into it knowing I wanted to force him to see everything he had, everything he was, but I guess I didn’t really think about what that would force me to see. My exhaustion started to give way to a heap of emotions, and a single, involuntary tear escaped my eye. Spencer brushed his fingers over my neck, simultaneously pulling my hair behind my shoulder.

He kissed the tender, bruised skin, and I remembered the times before, the times when it felt like we’d really been in love. I felt his breath on me as he mumbled, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I turned on my heels to face him, “You didn’t.”

I didn’t know what compelled him to confess what I never thought he would, but he sounded deeply ashamed when admitting, “I wanted to.”

“What stopped you?” I was genuinely curious. We’d hurt each other in the most extreme ways before today, getting the other sent to a cage in hell, betraying each other.

“I’m broken, but I’m not beyond repair, and hurting you would make me someone that I don’t want to be.”

I gave him a tired smile, and all I could muster was, “Pretty convincing.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Don’t be, you didn’t. You couldn’t,” I assured him. It was the truth.

“I should’ve,” he bit, looking down at his hands, which were so delicately holding my waist I couldn’t be sure he was even touching me.

“Why?” I questioned, the seriousness evident in my voice, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head, and a stray curl or two tickled my forehead. “I could’ve.”

“I trusted you not to.” I clasped my hands together and rested them on his back.

Spencer’s shaky voice matched his glistening eyes as they locked with mine, “I just wasn’t sure. All I know is that I scare myself sometimes.”

I pressed my forehead against his own, “Well, then I guess we’re two people who have nothing to fear other than ourselves.”

Read the full series

Taging some people:

@justanothetfangirl @kris-stuff @blameitonthenight21 @wooya1224 @unded-bride @swiftingday @dezzxmx @andiebeaword @psychicdonuts @aperrywilliams @goldentournesol @homoose

[rat-father]

I said I'd give Pora comfort so here it is

This one got long at 2.5k words and I didn't do any editing so good luck y'all lol this is the longest thing I've written

Tagging; @skunkandgrenade @jordanstrophe @whumping-out-of-time @whatwasmyprevioususername

-- tw;; intimate whumper, slave whump, food/eating, implied starvation, dehumanisation, normalisation of slavery, non con kiss (not sexual), mild whump mainly comfort, Mynci's attempt at being nice for day --

Pora stretched their arms out, finished hanging the last of the faerie lights. A heavy sigh escaped their lips, muscles aching from constant movement and repetitive posing. Cheerful laughter pierced their ears constantly, even at the dead of night. They dreaded the next day, they wanted to sleep through it all. Halloween had been.. Fun? The years prior. Or at least they thought so. They didn't remember hating it as much as they didn't remember anything else. It gave them a headache thinking back so far, to before they met Mynci. The lights greeted them when they came back out their thoughts.

Pora stepped back subconsciously, forgetting that they were standing on a stool until the hard floor collided with their body. Pain shot throughout them, crying out a sob. They greedily sucked in air through clenched teeth, deciding to take the moment to rest. They couldn't have closed their eyes for long when Mynci's footsteps calmly neared them, coaxing them to quickly push themselves up to their feet. They struggled to find their footing, terrified gaze locked on him.

„Sorry- I- I wasn't-“ they stammered.

„Sleeping without my permission? You definitely were.“

They swallowed dryly, accepting their inevitable fate. Their hands trembled nonetheless, waiting in anticipation.

„But,“ he continued. „I'm in a good mood today, so I'll forgive you this time.“

„Really?!“ they exclaimed in disbelief.

„Yes. But if you ruin my mood that will change before you know it.“

Tears sprung to their eyes, the information settling in. He saw their relief, a wide grin splitting his face. His hand carded through their tangled hair, freeing it from their sweaty forehead.

„Now, be good for me and finish setting all this up, hm?“ He gestured at the left over boxes filled with decorations.

„Yes, sir. I will.“

They snaked past him, his burning gaze following them. They caught a glimpse of the moon outside, surrounded by the tiny stars. The idea to stop and admire it crossed their mind, immediately deciding against it with Mynci still watching them. They searched through the closest box, taking out the biggest decorations to get them out of the way. They were planning to handle the smaller ones later. Once he was out of sight they could take things easy, and hopefully have time to rest before sunrise. He said he had a surprise planned for them, and they feared what that would be.

~-~

„Wake up, baby,“ Mynci cooed, squishing Pora's cheeks between his thumb and index finger.

They reluctantly opened their eyes, messy hair falling in front of their face. Slowly they rubbed their eyes, trying to speed up the process of waking up. He placed his hand on their chest, tracing down to their hips. They immediately sat up, legs twitching away at the touch. He chuckled lightly.

„Slept well? I found you passed out in the back room last night.“

„Sorry, I- I didn't mean to. I'm sorry,“ they stammered.

He hummed thoughtfully. „No matter. I don't want to ruin this special day. And neither do you.“

Pora nodded, slowing their pounding heart beat. He swung his legs over the mattress, jumping off the bed. He only wore black jog pants, contrasting his bare chest. They stared a moment too long, catching his attention.

„You get to stare at the me all day, you know,“ Mynci leaned over, dragging them out by their collar.

They yelped in surprise, latching onto his shoulder for support as they stumbled into him. He chuckled, his fingers tangling in their messy hair pulling them forward. He pressed his lips against theirs, nails moving up their spine. They melted under the touch, muscles relaxing. A blush warmed their face, gasping for air once he pulled away.

„Now, tell me, baby. Do you love me?“

„Y-yes.“ Pora said, hesitating slightly.

„Say it.“

„I..I love you.“

He gave a satisfied grin. „I love you too. I want this to be an amazing day, so be good for me.“

They nodded. It's rare that they got surprises, and they hoped that it would be a fun day, like he promised. He stepped away from them, swiftly moving to the closet to change his outfit. They took a quick glance at him, sitting back down on the mattress. The new breathing room it gave when he left felt nice, letting them regain their senses. A wave of nausea overcame them as hunger clawed at their stomach. They closed their eyes for a moment and waited for it to pass, listening to the sound of fabric getting moved around.

Pora subconsciously tugged at their own shirt, stained with dry blood. They couldn't remember which wound was the source of the stains, all the times he hurt them blending together in a fog. They squinted their eyes open, in time to watch him pull another set of clothing out of the closet. They straightened their back, slightly adjusting their position.

„I think the clothes you have now are a bit too cold to wear outside this season. If people see you like that they might just think I'm torturing you!“ Mynci laughed.

They forced themselves to smile, catching the clothes as he threw it at them. They took off their old shirt, replacing it with the gray blouse he gave them, and put on the long pants. The fabric felt a lot softer with a welcoming warmth as their exposed skin got covered. He pulled his hair back in a ponytail, side eying them. He offered his hand, helping them get up. They placed their hand on top of his, their fingers intertwining immediately. A kind smile painted his face, making them forget who he was momentarily.

He led them out to the front door of the tent, familiar sound of laughter and cheering much clearer to them. They saw the source of all the noise, children holding hands with their parents or running in front of them. Pora couldn't help but stare as they passed them by, unknowing of their situation. Mynci lightly squeezed their hand, pulling their attention back to him with a glare. They quickly muttered an apology, walking a small step closer by his side.

Pora's eyes kept wandering over to the various attractions, stalls and everything in the environment, awing at it all like a child. Mynci smiled to himself, seeing his slave so amazed by everything. He took them to his favorite small restaurant on the edge of the park, close to the circus. He knew the owner personally, and had since she moved there. She always struck conversations with him, chit chattering until his ears fell off. She had no problems with him bringing Pora into the establishment, seeing as she had a pet of her own.

The building was just out of reach of the sun, sheltered by the surrounding trees. Elevated wooden planks subsidized as floor leading into the front door, wide open to greet them. Purple and white flowers bloomed around the walls, bees stopping by now and then. Pora followed him mindlessly, taking in as much of the sight as they could. They saw the owner before she did, busy scribbling something down on a notepad.

„Hey, Cai!“ Mynci greeted, letting go of their hand to spread his arms towards her.

She jumped at the noise, cursing under her breath before burying herself in his arms.

„You need to stop doing that. Scared the shit out of me.“

„Not my problem. I'm here to take you up on that offer you gave me last time.“

Cai leaned her head past his chest, squinting her eyes at them. She nodded. „Brought your slave

They took a step forward sheepishly, unsure of what they were supposed to do. He chuckled, nodding enthusiastically.

„Mhm. I wasn't lying when I said that they're the most adorable slave I've seen.“

„Sure wasn't. And their name was? Pora?“

Pora nodded, hiding their hands in the long sleeves. They felt awfully exposed, being talked about as if they weren't there. She never fully acknowledged their existence, showing them to their table and handing Mynci a menu. They sat next to him, sneakily peeking over his shoulder to see the options. The letters all blurred together, not becoming any clearer despite their rapid blinking. Their heart sunk to their stomach as realization set in.

His hand tucked a bit of stray hair behind their ear, making them flinch. Their eyes met his, followed by a short kiss on their lips.

„I'll order for you, baby. Don't you worry about it,“ Mynci said, tapping his finger on their nose.

They knew better than to go against him, slowly nodding. He must've known they couldn't read anymore, that was probably his intention. The waiter walked over to their table almost immediately after he signaled for them. Pora didn't look their way, barely listening as he put in the order. The family sitting by the table next to them caught their attention, the way they laughed and talked together tied a knot in their stomach, a distant familiarity to the sight.

Mynci put his on theirs, giving it a squeeze. They turned back to him, hesitantly leaning on his shoulder. They forced their tensed muscles to relax, taking deep breaths. They stared at the decorative doll of a tiny ghost, casually sitting on top of their table. It seemed to be a having a great time doing nothing all day.

„Where do you want to go next?“

The question threw Pora off for a moment. He raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.

„Um. I-I don't know.“

„That's alright, you can choose as we go. Decisions like that aren't made for slaves, so I see why you struggle.“

On cue, the waiter came back holding trays, filled with drinks and plates with food. They set it all down in front of them, Mynci thanking them politely. Pora's stomach twisted with hunger, mouth watering at the smell. He nodded at the slave, allowing them start eating. They wasted no time scarfing it all down, savoring every bite. They didn't recognize most of it, but they didn't care. Some of the drinks were bitter and stung the back of their throat, taking their mind off the situation. Giddy with joy, they couldn't stop smiling. It was the first time in forever they had a full stomach and a full meal. Mynci pressed a kiss to their cheek.

„Enjoying yourself, baby?“ he asked.

„Yes, sir.“

They couldn't contain their smile, the collar around their neck feeling as light as their head. He carded his fingers through their hair, leaning into the gentle touch. He ordered them a bowl of ice cream, covered with colorful sprinkles and whipped cream. They finished it all within minutes, quickly regretting it as their brain froze up from the cold. They whimpered pitifully, earning mock laughter from Mynci. They pouted, taking the hand he offered to walk them out the door.

Creaking floorboards turned to tiles, stepping outside. Everything was a lot calmer in the morning, giving them more place to walk at their own speed. Mynci got greeted by a lot of visitors and off duty employees, calling out to him or giving a wave. His tight grip on their hand didn't loosen, checking to make sure they were still there often. Pora remained busy watching the birds fly by or sit in their respective trees, singing their songs. The sunlight was a welcome change to them, being way too adjusted to the natural colored lights the circus tent provided when the sun was out.

Tiny stones crunched under their feet, disrupted by orange and red leafs. They stopped to pick up a small bug they found, hurriedly finding a bush to place it in. He smiled at them, eyes glistening with adoration. They hopped after him again, intertwining their fingers with his. The wind had a smell they couldn't quite place, but it was nice nonetheless.

„Can we try one of those arcade games?“ Pora stopped dead in their tracks, pointing at the building standing on the side.

„Of course, baby.“

It was a newer place set up recently, evident by the newer technology. He hadn't gotten around to personally welcoming the owner yet. Not that it mattered, he'd meet them soon enough. They entered the building, the whole place decorated festively with darker lights to fit the mood. The games shone brighter in the dark, standing out in contrast. The person at the reception greeted them wholeheartedly with a polite nod. Mynci got them tickets to play some of the games by themselves, trusting they wouldn't attempt to run while he made small talk with the owner.

Pora took the opportunity to take a go at one player games they distantly remembered being their favorite. It didn't take them long to get the gist of it again, as if they never stopped playing, The claw machines were the ones they struggled with the most, taking multiple tries before they got something. They excitedly grabbed the round plushie, representing a fake monster with a small head poking out above the dark gray fluff that made up its body. They continued playing more games with their new found friend in their arms, until they ran out of tickets and went to find Mynci.

He wasn't hard to spot, his green hair standing out from a distance. They hopped over to him, lightly tugging on his sleeve to get his attention. He turned to face them, raising an eyebrow.

„What is that you got?“ He asked.

„It-it's a plushie I won, from a, a game.“

Pora held it up to him to show it off, letting him feel it.

„It's nice,“ he said „Do you want to go?“

They nodded, following him back out the door as he said goodbye to the employee. The sun blinded them momentarily. More people slowly started to flow in to the park, noise getting louder with each person entering. They hovered close to him, keeping their eyes down. He steered them away from bigger crowds, nearing food vendors with all types of snacks. They perked up at the sight, silently pleading to go to one. He got the message and brought them to get crunchy waffles with sweet syrup in between. It was sweet and tasty, a light treat to end the day outside with.

He threw the last waffle piece in his mouth, crunching down on it. „Let's go back home, darling. I'll let you get some rest before the show.“

[gallavictorious]

I was delighted to be tagged by Our Lady of Words and Joy @howlinchickhowl Cheers, dear!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Earlier today it was 40. Now it’s 39. WHAT GIVES? Did someone eat a story? Which one? I am so confused.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

137 098. At least that hasn’t changed...

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Highs, and Your Lows (i will weather them)

This Time (We'll Be Fine)

Teenage Tales

To Keep Your Gentle Heart

Captive Look

Huh. Would you look at that. All Gallavich stuff!

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Eh. Well. Listen, I always want and mean to respond to comments, because as a commenter I always love a response from the author, but I am procrastinator supreme so a lot of the time I just... don't. Not for a great long while at least. Then, two years AFTER you left a comment, you might get an e-mail notification about me responding. It's horrible, really, because I keep the comments in my heart and treasure them so much and the lovely people taking the time to leave a few words on my silly stories really do deserve better.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Life, Still to Come has the one main character Jim Moriarty killing himself and his lover Sebastian Moran after he's diagnosed with incurable brain cancer, so I guess that's pretty angsty? The tone of the fic, however, is... kinda soft and peaceful, really. It doesn't feel so very sad, I think.

For Gallavich, I've got Chapter 7 of my ficlet collection Highs, and Your Lows (i will weather them). It's an Wild West AU kind of deal, where Ian Gallagher is visited by the ghost of the young fiend Mickey Milkovich after his dad beats him to death. That one is sad, but there's the glimmer of a promise that they might meet again one day, in a better world.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

My fics mostly end on a happy note, and I have a hard time pinning down which is the happiest. Hm. I'm gonna say Pressure or possibly Foreign Country, if only because the happy endings there are offered in contrast to the otherwise angsty story and so seems all the happier for it.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I have, once. Well, started one, really. Notes Regarding the End of the World is a crossover between Sherlock BBC and Mark Lawrence's The Broken Empire trilogy. I still feel there's a bunch of potential there, but I'm very hesitant I'll ever finish it.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not to my recollection, no. Back when I posted my SW fic on the Jedi Council forums you might receive critical comments at times, but no hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not really, no. I'm not very interested in reading it, and so see very little point in writing it. There's been a few semi-explicit depictions of sexual acts – most notably in Claim – and I'm not averse to writing kink fic, even if they don't typically include actual sex when I do. For instance, I did The Ways We Bend and Break and Mend for X-Men, and the whole point was Charles first whipping Erik and then cuddling him – except in the end it turned into a character study with lots of emotions, and I think any attempts to write smut would be like that for me. Accidental character drama. XD

I might have a Gallavich thing for kinktober that is likely to be pretty explicit and kinda messed up. We'll see.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so. There have been a few instances of stuff popping up bearing a strong resemblance to things I've written, but there's also been times when I realize that things I have written bear a (very much unintentional) strong resemblance to other stuff that predates them, so I really think that's the nature of the beast. In any big fandom, the same ideas are likely to occur to multiple people, and we are all, often unconsciously, inspired by the same things and by each other.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, to Chinese and Russian.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Pathoftheranger and I co-wrote (How to Break the) Alibi Armistice, which was fun!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I'm a creature of ever-changing affections, so I'm not so good with ”all-time favourite”  and to be honest, I mostly tend to have favourite characters and ship them with everything in sight... Currently it's all about Gallavich but pretty much all ships including Jim Moriarty is forever gold to me (though MorMor is The Best. Or is it Sheriarty? Or maybe Mormorlock? Or Moriadlock? Or Johmlock – notice the 'm'?). Cherik's a big one too!

Ask me again in six months and my answer might well have changed!

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

The aforementioned Notes Regarding the End of the World. And I have this superlong Star Wars fic I started writing when I was 16 and wrote for years and years and then just... stopped writing, when I was maybe 20 pages from the end? It's currently at 180k words. This one I DO have some hope that I will go back and finish one day, although it's likely to be a jarring experience since I'm very much not 16 years old any more and my ideas about writing and the characters and everything have shifted quite a bit.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I do pretty well with the short format, I think. And with dialogue? Finding the voice of the characters (some more than others, certainly). Writing in my native Swedish, I think I'm pretty good at offering decent prose – I'd like to think I have a fairly developed ear for the flow of the text, and the melody of it? But when writing in English, that gets quite a bit harder. This really annoys me, because I'm rather preoccupied with the stylish elements of writing – though I've found that a lot of people seem happy enough to overlook clunky writing as long as they find the story otherwise engaging, which is a huge blessing for me. I believe I can build a decent plot, but since I can't write anyting longer than a few K these days there's no telling, is there?

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Primarily getting any writing done at all. Mostly, I stare at a blank page and despair and then I give up. This is why I no longer write long fic. I also tend to reuse favorite phrases or themes far too often. And there are so many subclauses... Proofreading happens to other people (I'd like it to happen to me too, but I'm terrible with it). I'm not good at accepting constructive criticism, even when I ask for it. I will often favour style over efficiency, and I'll stubbornly refuse to admit that this can be a problem.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

This question makes me feel like I ought to have developed thoughts on this, but I don't so much... I don't mind it? I've used it. Uh. It's a good idea to do a bit of research and not just rely on Google translate for it? If you don't like it, don't use it. Those are my thoughts.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars. <3

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Buffy/Angel/Spike. The Book of All Hours. Heroes. Maybe something based on The Coldfire Trilogy... ? Oh, and the Bible. I'm sure there are others.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I really don't have one. There are a few I'm particularly happy with, but no one that truly stands out... That said, I was quite chuffed with how the first ficlet in Or Else Into the Light, my (tiny) collection of Anakin redemption one-shots, turned out. And Claim. I’m very pleased with Claim.

Tagging @dreamylyfe-x @fiona-fififi @pathoftheranger @abundanceofnots and @captainjowl

[panharmonium]

the edge of seventeen [fic]

summary: Daegal forgets his own birthday.  Merlin has a conniption.  Daegal has a crisis.

context for newcomers: This is the next installment in an ongoing AU that @once-and-future-gay​ and I have been playing around with, wherein both Will and Daegal survived into Season 5.  The background for that AU can be found here, and the associated fics (plus one art post) are at the following links: be good / persistence / tournaments / daegal post-carpentry (art).

a/n: @once-and-future-gay​​, this was actually written for your birthday XD  I started it that Tuesday intending for it to be a very short snippet that I could post the same day, but I quickly realized that it was turning into a bigger piece, and now, a week and a half later, it’s a 10k story.  I apologize for how belated it is, but I hope you'll accept it as a birthday gift anyhow - I figured that if it were up to me, I’d rather have ‘more fic’ than ‘on-time fic,’ so - happy (belated) birthday to you, and here’s some more of this AU for you, featuring Daegal and a wide supporting cast! ✨

“Are you trying to slice that thing or just beat it to death?”

Will stared incredulously down the table at Daegal, who continued to hack at the seedpod held between his fingers even though his aggravated chopping did little more than squash the unyielding capsule down into the wood of the table.  “It’s my knife,” Daegal muttered, stabbing at his botanical nemesis.  “It’s dull.” 

“So sharpen it.”  

“I did,” Daegal replied.  “It’s old.  It doesn’t hold an edge.”

Will beckoned for the knife.  Daegal scooted it down the table to him like an innkeeper sliding drinks down the length of the bar, even in defiance of Merlin’s exasperated, “Don’t - !”  But Will caught the knife easily, handle-first, and gave it a disapproving once-over.

“Use mine,” he said, and slid one of his own blades down the table.

“Don’t - !” Merlin bit out again, then sighed and returned to the text he was copying after Daegal intercepted the blade without injury.

“Careful,” Will warned Daegal.  “It’s - ”

Pop.  Daegal startled out of his seat at the first enthusiastic slice of the knife, as the capsule burst and sent hundreds of tiny black seeds scattering in every direction, the dried granules rolling off the edge of the table and pouring onto the floor with a rain-like hiss.

Merlin sighed and rubbed his forehead.  Will picked up his own half-finished carving again and gestured at Merlin’s face.  “You’ve got a bit of ink on you, you know.”

Merlin shot him a flat look.  “Have I?”

“Yeah.  Just over your nose there.”

“Maybe it’s because you keep doing things that make me want to pull my hair out.”

Will gave Daegal a knowing grin across the table.  Daegal, doing his best to contain the spilled seeds, couldn’t help feeling pleased, even if the smile he offered to Will in return was slightly sheepish.  

“Do I?” Will asked Merlin, utterly unconcerned.  “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Stop giving him knives!” Merlin burst out, gesturing broadly at Daegal’s end of the table.

“He’s fine!” Will said.  “He’s a big lad.”

“And he’s making a big mess.”

“I’ll clean it up,” Daegal assured Merlin, scooping the runaway seeds into uncooperative piles.  “I didn’t think it would cut so well, is all.”

“You need better tools,” Will declared.  “Merlin, the man works for you.  Why haven’t you got him outfitted properly?”

Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, he was interrupted by a rap at the door.  “It’s open,” he called, frowning.  It was a bit late for visitors.

The door swung open, revealing Gwaine, who took only a single step into the physician’s chambers before pausing at the loud crunching sound under his boot.  “Hallo,” he said curiously, lifting up his foot.  “What’s all this, then?”  

“Seeds,” Daegal supplied helpfully, at the same time as Merlin grumbled, “Never mind.  Don’t come in; you’ll track it all over.”

Gwaine obliged, bowing at the waist in deference to Merlin’s directive.  “Don’t mind me,” he said.  “I only came by to see if you lot fancied an excursion.”

“What sort?”

“The lads and I are off to see the sunrise.  Thought you might like to join us.”

It was only after a moment’s confusion that Daegal realized Gwaine was talking about the tavern, in some sort of post-curfew, plausible deniability-laden way.  Daegal wiped seeds from his palms and looked hopefully between Will and Merlin, not daring to believe that they would say yes.  It wasn’t often Gwaine heard the word “no” from someone he’d propositioned, Daegal was willing to bet, but Daegal knew trying to drag Will and Merlin out of their nest two whole bells after curfew, especially when the weather had frosted all the windows, was an extremely optimistic maneuver, even for Gwaine.

Will, predictably, snorted, not even bothering to pretend he was interested.  Merlin did a better job of feigning regret, holding up the heavy text he was copying as if it explained everything.  “Can’t,” he said simply.  “Sorry.  Too much work.  Too late.  Too tired.  Too cold.”

“Any other excuses?” Gwaine asked, the corners of his mouth twitching up.  

“Pick whichever one you like best,” Merlin said, returning to scratch away at his manuscript.  “I’m comfy in here.”

Gwaine gestured amicably at Daegal.  “How about you, lad?”

Daegal’s eyes widened.  Merlin always made tavern nights with Gwaine sound legendary, and the fact that Will groaned every time they came up in conversation made them even more intriguing, but Will, in a surprisingly swift intervention, interrupted before Daegal could even open his mouth.  

“Not a chance,” he said, when Daegal tentatively started to rise from his chair.  “Sit down.”

Gwaine did not seem offended, but simply leaned against the doorframe and grinned in that careless way of his.  “Can’t the lad have a bit of fun?”

“Not with that lot.  Not at this hour.”

“I’ll look after him.”

“You?  By the time you’re done drinking you won’t know him from Bruta.”

Gwaine shrugged.  “Suit yourself.”  He pointed at Daegal.  “Invitation stands, lad.  Another time, maybe.”  

Daegal nodded wistfully, and Gwaine bade them farewell, departing.  Will, shaking his head, returned to his whittling, muttering, “Not ruddy likely.”  He brushed wood shavings off his knees, adding to the mess on the floor.  “Lunatic.”

“He’s a good lunatic,” Merlin said, absorbed in his copying.

“If you say so.”

“I could still go, maybe,” Daegal said.  “I could look after myself.”

Will raised his eyebrows.  “At the Rising Sun?  After curfew?  You’d wake up with your head in a snowbank.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would,” Will said, not budging. “Don’t go courting trouble.  You’re too young for that crowd.”

Daegal scrunched up his nose.  He knew that in a contest of stubbornness, Will would win by a mile, but still - “I’m not too young.  I’m seventeen.”

Merlin’s head snapped up from his book, his copying abruptly forgotten.  “You’re sixteen.”

“No,” Daegal said, bewildered by Merlin’s sudden bizarre intensity.  “Seventeen.”

“Since when?”

“I had my birthday last month.”

“You what?”

Daegal, confused, looked between Merlin and Will, the latter of whom sighed.  “Oh, lor.”

“What?” Daegal asked.  “Have I - is that bad?”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Merlin demanded, ignoring Daegal’s question.

“I don’t know,” Daegal replied, taken aback.  He hadn’t even thought of it at the time.  What was there to think about?  It was just another day.  Sometimes he didn’t even remember his birthday had happened until it was already over.  Once he hadn’t remembered until the last week in January, when he’d taken a courier job and been forced to lie about his age.

Merlin looked incensed.  Will, by contrast, looked like he was trying not to laugh.  “Right, then,” he said, getting up and tucking his carving into his pocket.  “I’m off.  You two have fun.”

Daegal had an absurd urge to beg Will to sit back down, because Merlin was starting to get a frankly loony look on his face and Daegal did not understand what was the matter.  But Will just patted Daegal on the top of the head on his way out - tap tap - and let the door swing closed behind him.  

Merlin, his hands on his hips, assessed Daegal with narrowed eyes.  

“I’m sorry?” Daegal ventured, unsure what he was apologizing for.

Merlin pressed his lips together.  “You and him,” he said, pointing to the door where Will had just exited, “you’re two of a kind, you know that?”

Daegal did not know.  He had no idea what Merlin was talking about, in fact, and he was afraid to ask.  He did not exactly want to apologize again, though, because that felt sort of like apologizing for being like Will (although why Merlin seemed to think this was the case was a mystery).

“Right,” Merlin said after a moment.  “Not to worry.  I’ll take care of it.”

Daegal hesitated.  “Take care of what?”

Merlin sighed and shook his head, but did not answer.  Daegal decided that perhaps it would be best if he did not needle Merlin with further questions right now.  His mentor was acting very strange, and Daegal could not possibly imagine what had gotten him so worked up. 

He would just have to ask Will about it later.

As it turned out, Daegal did not have a chance to ask Will about it later.

The next day, Will did not come by.  The day after that, Merlin sent Daegal out to collect more dried seedpods to replace the ones Daegal had mangled, which took all afternoon and was exhausting enough for Daegal to go straight to his little chamber in the servants’ wing and flop into bed after supper.

The morning after that, he woke to find a smiling Elyan hovering barely two inches above his face.  

Daegal stifled a gasp and only just barely stopped himself from whacking Elyan across the nose.  He scrambled upright in the bed, his back pressed against the wall.  “El - Sir Elyan!  What - ”

“Good morning,” Elyan said, as if he could not possibly have been happier to have gotten almost-smacked in the face.  “Merlin sent me down.  Said it’s your birthday.”

Daegal goggled at him.  “My what?”

“Your birthday,” Elyan repeated.  “Isn’t it?”

Daegal shook his head, certain that he was still asleep.  “No.”

“Merlin said you might say that.”  Elyan whipped the covers off Daegal’s legs.  “Up you get.  It’s time for breakfast.”

Daegal shivered violently, his sleep clothes providing little protection against the cold.  “I don’t normally - I’m supposed to go and help Gaius - ”

“Not today.  You’ve been given the day off.”

Daegal stared.  “What for?”

Elyan chuckled.  “Still asleep in there, I see,” he remarked, tossing Daegal a shirt.  “It’s your birthday.  Haven’t I just said that?”

“It’s not, though,” Daegal said, feeling as if he were speaking a different language.   “My birthday’s in November.”

“Not this year, it isn’t.”  Elyan grinned.  “Get dressed.  We’ve got all sorts of things do today.”

When Elyan had said ‘all sorts of things,’ Daegal had not expected one of those things to be a full breakfast served in the King and Queen’s personal chambers, catered by the King and Queen’s personal serving staff, and attended by the King and Queen themselves.

“I didn’t know,” Daegal whispered frantically to Merlin, as Elyan ushered him inside the room.  “Why wouldn’t you tell me?  I would have worn something else!”

“You don’t have anything else,” Merlin shot back under his breath.  “Relax.  Arthur put his undershirt on back to front this morning; he’s hardly Sir Stylish.”

Daegal gave Merlin a panicked, pleading stare, but Merlin just plunked Daegal down in a seat and left to pour the drinks.

“We’ve been meaning to do this for ages,” the Queen told him, sitting down next to Elyan.  “Merlin keeps you very busy, doesn’t he?”

Daegal’s mouth was too dry to formulate any sort of reply.  Only a few short months ago this very same woman had been standing at Morgana’s elbow, plotting Arthur’s assassination, and at the time, Daegal had not even realized there was anything wrong with her.  There was, after all, nothing hard to believe about a servant-turned-queen who’d gotten a taste for power and decided to keep climbing the ladder, and while Merlin had always been very adamant that Daegal would never have believed this of Gwen if he had ever met her previously, it was hard for Daegal to look at her and not remember how she had willingly embraced the woman who later tried to murder Merlin and threatened to do the same to Daegal, if he didn’t keep his mouth shut.

Merlin, busy setting out the ewery on a sidetable, heard Gwen’s comment and spared Daegal the necessity of replying.  “Arthur keeps me very busy,” he said, directing a pointed look at the king.  “If you’d like me to arrange your subjects’ social schedules on top of my other duties, Sire, perhaps you ought to hire someone else to look after your washing.”

Arthur waved a hand.  “Guinevere likes that funny thing you do with my socks.”

“Guinevere,” corrected the Queen , “thinks her husband is perfectly capable of rolling his own socks, thank you.”  She smiled encouragingly at Daegal.  “But enough about the laundry.  We’d been meaning to have you round for a meal, to say thank you, and Merlin mentioned that it was your birthday, so we thought now would be the perfect time.”

Daegal barely even heard the bit about his birthday, instead fixated on what had come just before it.  Thank him?  What for?  He had nearly gotten the king killed.  

“Merlin tells us you’ve been helping Gaius?” Arthur prompted.  

Daegal nodded. 

“He’s a fine physician.  If you’re pursuing a path in the healing arts, you couldn’t ask for a better teacher.”

“Is that something you’re interested in?” Guinevere asked, warm interest written across her face.

Daegal’s eyes darted helplessly to Merlin, who nodded encouragingly.  Daegal cleared his throat.  “Er - I think so.  Maybe.  Merlin says I’m picking it up quickly.”

“Well, you’ve already saved one life,” Arthur said with a grin, gesturing at himself, “so if that’s any indication of your capabilities, I expect you’ll do well.”  He offered Daegal a platter of pastries.  “Tell us about your studies.”

The meal continued on in much the same fashion, with Gwen and Arthur asking Daegal questions and Elyan occasionally putting in a comment or two of his own.  Daegal did his best to answer honestly, even as he was plied with heaps of food, most of which was comprised of dishes he had never had the chance to try before and all of which flavors he was certain he would never be able to remember later, given how worked up he was.  Arthur was gracious and charming throughout, very unlike the man who often featured in Merlin’s grumbling suppertime complaints.  Elyan talked to Merlin as much as he did to either of the royal guests, which was probably a breach of some kind of protocol, though nobody seemed to mind.  And the Queen - the Queen looked exactly the same as she had when Daegal had first met her, minus the cloak and surreptitious glances, and if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought nothing had changed.  

Except - 

There came one moment, towards the end of the meal, when Merlin put a goblet down in front of Gwen with a playful and very exaggerated “Your Majesty,” and Gwen jabbed his knee with a fork under the table where Arthur couldn’t see, all the while both of them keeping their eyes locked on each other as if daring the other one to laugh first, and it was then that Daegal knew with absolute certainty that this was not the same woman he had met that night in the woods.  

“I hope you’ll accept this token of the Crown’s appreciation,” Arthur said to Daegal later, when they had finally finished their meal and risen from their chairs.  “You’ve done this kingdom a tremendous service, and I’m indebted to you.”  He passed Daegal a very official-looking bit of folded parchment stamped with the royal seal, which Daegal knew it would not be appropriate to open now.  He took it and bowed the way Merlin had shown him.

“And there’s something from me, too,” said Guinevere.  “Only it would have been a bit difficult to get it up the steps - Elyan will take you to see it instead.  I think you’ll find it useful, given that you’re apprenticing to our physicians.”

Daegal could not possibly imagine what on earth could have been so unwieldy that she could not get it up the stairs, but he bowed to her as well.  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” she said, in a more solemn voice.  “For helping, when I couldn’t help myself.”

Daegal straightened, hesitant.  Her eyes - it seemed ludicrous to Daegal, now, that he had not recognized the enchanted version of her for what it was.  That hollow shell had had no soul.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” he blurted out.  “I wish I could’ve done more.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” Arthur said, wrapping a steady arm around his wife’s shoulders.  “For both of us.  We owe you a great deal.”

Daegal bowed to both of them again, and Elyan escorted him to the door.  “Oh, and Daegal?” Gwen added.  

Daegal stumbled over his own feet trying to turn around.  “Your Majesty?”

She smiled at him.  “Happy birthday.”

“What did Arthur give you, then?” Elyan asked, once they were out in the street.

Daegal fingered the mystery envelope.  He did not know, and honestly, his head was spinning too much for him to even think about puzzling out a jumble of words right now, especially when he was only just learning his letters to begin with.

“Can I have a look?” Elyan asked, and Daegal willingly handed him the parchment.  Elyan slipped a finger under the seal and unfolded the document, parsing it with a speed Daegal had pretty much despaired of ever achieving for himself.

“Mm,” Elyan said.  “Thought so.  Typical kingly stuff.”

“What is it?” 

“Land grant,” Elyan said, handing back the parchment, and then, as if this were nothing to worry about, he turned and ambled into the stables.

Daegal stared after him.  “What?”   

“Land grant,” Elyan repeated.  “You know, like a knight’s fee.  For services rendered to the Crown.”  He wandered deeper down the central aisle of the stable, stalled horses on either side of him lifting their heads.  “Come on.  It’s through here.”

Stunned, Daegal followed him, his fingers clutching at the incomprehensible slip of parchment.  “I can’t own land,” he protested.  “I don’t own a second pair of shoes.”

“You do now.  Or you can afford to, at least.”  Elyan glanced back at Daegal.  “Don’t worry, it’s a small plot.  Just a little square out in the Sprawl.”

Outside the city walls, then.  “I don’t - what am I supposed to do with it?”

“You could live there.”

“But - ”  Daegal stared at Elyan’s back uncomprehendingly.  “I live in the Citadel.”

“Rent it?”

Daegal’s head was going to explode.  “Will says landlords are leeches,” he said faintly.

Elyan laughed.  “Herb garden?” he suggested.  “Merlin’s always sending you off to gods know where, searching for things you could grow yourself.”

Daegal hardly knew what to say to that, but Elyan stopped walking before Daegal could think of anything coherent.  “Here we are,” Elyan announced, clapping a hand down on top of a stall door to his left.  

A wave of misgiving flooded Daegal, temporarily wiping away the lingering shock of the land grant.  “Are we riding somewhere?”  

He had not considered this, and he did not want to admit that the only way he was going to be able to ride anywhere at all was on the back of someone else’s saddle.  He had never had access to a horse himself, and had only had the opportunity to ride twice in the past - the first occasion had been extremely brief, and the second had ended in him being thrown, so he was not quite sure that it counted.

“Not today,” Elyan said.  “Unless you count the training ring.”

“Sorry?”

“Merlin says you don’t know how to ride.”

“Yeah,” Daegal said.  He could feel himself turning red.  “I mean - no, I don’t know how.  Not well.  I don’t need to.  I don’t have a horse.”

“Didn’t have a horse,” Elyan said, as if making a correction.

“What?”

Elyan gestured at the stall they were standing next to.  “Couldn’t get her up the stairs.”

Daegal’s mouth popped open.  The creature Elyan was pointing to was a dark bay with an irregular, splotchy white blaze down her muzzle, her smooth coat appearing nearly black in the dim light of the stables.  She was stout and smoothly muscled, watching them with a calm, composed energy, and even as Daegal stared, she stretched her neck over the stall door and sniffed at Elyan’s hands, perhaps searching for any remnants of his recent breakfast.

“My sister,” Elyan said proudly, scratching the horse’s cheek, “is aces at presents.”

“She’s not for me,” Daegal croaked disbelievingly.

“Of course she is,” Elyan assured him.  “She’s the same stock as Merlin’s.  Steady temperament, friendly, not likely to spook.  Not like Arthur’s beasts.”

A horse, Daegal thought numbly.  A horse. 

“I can’t take this,” he mumbled.  “It’s too much.”

“Of course it’s not too much.  You saved the king’s life.”

I almost killed him! Daegal wanted to shout, but Elyan would not understand.  

“And you’ll need transportation, anyhow,” Elyan continued.  “You can’t be jogging along behind Merlin on foot.  Apprentices in the royal household have mounts, or they can’t do their work.”

Daegal bit the inside of his cheek.  “I don’t even know how to ride her.”

The horse cocked her ears in Daegal’s direction and swung her blocky head around to inspect him, her dark brown eyes sedate and trusting.  “What do you think we’re here to practice?” Elyan asked cheerfully, retrieving a halter and lead rope from a hook on the wall.  “Go on, say hello to her.”

Daegal’s hand came up of its own accord, hovering in the air below his new mount’s nose.  She lipped at his fingers curiously.  “Hello,” Daegal breathed.

He didn’t deserve her.  He knew he didn’t.  

But he was falling in love with her anyway.

It was a very windswept and breathless Daegal who climbed off his horse later that day and ran to greet Merlin at the fence.  

Evening was coming on, and the temperature had sunk as quickly as the sun, but Daegal did not even notice the stiffness in his fingers or the tightness in his cheeks.  He was too carried away with the elation of riding, and the dizzying knowledge that he now had the means to go anywhere he wanted, anytime, without begging for rides in the back of strangers’ wagons.  Months ago he would have killed for this kind of ability to roam.  

It was strange, now that he finally had the freedom to run away whenever he pleased, that he no longer felt he had anything to run away from.

“Having fun?” Merlin asked, elbows resting on the fence.

Daegal did not think fun was the right word.  There was just no good way to explain that he felt like a menagerie bear whose shackles had slipped, or a noblewoman’s bird escaping out a cracked window.  “It’s brilliant,” he said, settling for a completely inadequate adjective.  “It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“And he’s good at it!” Elyan put in, walking Daegal’s horse over to the gate.  “We’ve only been out here one day and he’s got her cantering already - I think this beast is talking to him.”

If Daegal’s cheeks had not been whipped rosy by the wind already, they were certainly turning pink now.  “No,” he said to Merlin, “not - talking to me.  Obviously not.  Just - I sort of feel like I understand her, is all.”

Merlin did not seem to think this was strange at all, and produced a chunk of some sort of winter root vegetable from his coat, offering it to the horse.  She snapped it up eagerly.  “Animals talk,” Merlin said, shrugging.  “It’s people as don’t know how to listen that get kicked in the nethers.”  

He untied the gate for Elyan, who led the horse through it and started up the path back to the stables proper.  “How was your day?” Merlin asked Daegal, as the three of them walked, Elyan leading the horse on one side, and Merlin and Daegal on the other.

Daegal had to think before answering.  It had been, by a wide margin, the strangest day he had ever experienced in Camelot, starting with Elyan’s surprise appearance that morning and punctuated by a number of other unexpected visitors.  Leon had arrived in the stables not long after Elyan and Daegal, bringing with him a collection of exquisitely embroidered tack (“Part of Her Majesty’s gift,” he’d explained), and then he’d spent the next hour walking Daegal through the various bits and pieces, guiding him through the process of putting them on his mount and taking them off again.  Percival had dropped by with his own mount and accompanied Daegal on a slow ride outside the ring, along the edge of the woods - Elyan had ridden in the saddle behind Daegal, just to be safe, but he had not had to take the reins from Daegal once, and they had gone on a nice plodding walk around the frostbitten perimeter of what would be fairgrounds, come summer.  Even Mordred had made a brief appearance, in his oddly intense way - apparently out for a ride of his own, watching Elyan and Daegal lungeing Daegal’s mount for a few minutes, before nodding to the both of them and continuing on his way, his own horse cresting the hill so smoothly that it appeared as if it were not touching the ground.

“It was strange,” Daegal decided.

Merlin walked along beside him, his boots crunching on the frostbitten grass.  “Why?”

“I don’t know.  All these people - ”  Daegal paused, brushing a hand against his horse’s flank.  “I don’t see why they’re taking an interest.”

“It’s your birthday,” Merlin replied.  “People are supposed to make a fuss.”

Daegal was not sure about that.  It had not ever been his experience in the past, at least.  “It’s not really my birthday, though.”

“Only because I didn’t know about it.”

They continued walking, Daegal worrying at his lip.  “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said abruptly, after a minute.

“You’re not enjoying yourself?”

Daegal shook his head quickly.  “I am.”  Too much, he thought.  His exhilaration at being taught how to ride had driven it from his mind for a while, but now - 

Elyan waved to someone up ahead, interrupting Daegal’s thoughts.  There in the stableyard was Gwaine, lounging against the edge of the open doors, dressed not in his crimson surcoat but in plain clothes, and tossing a small pouch from hand to hand.  

“You’re early,” Merlin called to him.  “We’ve still got to groom and water this creature.”

“I thought I was supposed to be in charge of the watering,” Gwaine replied, which seemed like a very odd thing to say.  “Wasn’t that the plan?”

“I’m talking about the horse.”

Gwaine pushed himself off the wall, joining the little group as they entered the yard.  “Our guest of honor,” he said, indicating Daegal.  “This fellow’s been doing our job for us, Elyan.  Saving the king is knight’s work, isn’t it?”

Elyan led the horse past Gwaine with a smirk.  “How would you know?  You’ve never done a bit of it.”

Gwaine shook his head, glancing at Daegal in a comradely way.  “Why does everybody think I only took this job for the food?” 

Daegal, who had only rarely interacted with Gwaine before, did not know what to answer, but Merlin saved him the trouble.  “Because we know you,” he said, and then smiled when Gwaine gave him a crooked grin.

That was utter nonsense.  Even Daegal knew that Gwaine had nearly died during Morgana’s occupation, specifically while fighting to keep a number of his fellow prisoners from starving - but Merlin and Gwaine were a bit like Merlin and Will in that way, at least to Daegal’s limited experience, wherein Gwaine did not always want people to see him for what he truly was, and Merlin always chose to see him anyway, if only from behind a mutually agreed-upon smokescreen of affectionate teasing.

“Well, let’s hurry it up,” Gwaine said, tossing his little bag in the air.  “I’d like to get on with my bit.”

His bit?  

Gwaine paused in front of the empty stall while Elyan gathered what they would need for a post-ride grooming.  “I hear it’s your birthday,” Gwaine said to Daegal, and then before Daegal could explain that it wasn’t, exactly, Gwaine handed Daegal the little leather bag.  “There’s for you, then.”

Daegal, surprised, loosened the cinched string at the top of the pouch and tipped the contents into his other hand.  Out tumbled four dice, the smoothly-carved cubes clacking against one another as they fell into Daegal’s palm.  

Daegal looked up at Gwaine, confused.

“I thought you could use them,” Gwaine said.  

“For what?”

Gwaine grinned and exchanged a knowing look with Merlin.  “My bit.”

Daegal stared at at the dice in his hand, then snapped his gaze up to Merlin, suddenly seized by a burst of excitement.  “Are we - ”

Merlin held up a finger.  “On three conditions,” he declared, obviously trying not to smile.  

Daegal closed his fingers tightly around the dice, trying not to appear too eager.

“One: you’re going to untack and groom your mount.  The stablehands will do that for you, when you ride out with our party, but she’s your responsibility.  You have to know how to take care of her.”

Daegal had no objections to that.  He already loved this horse better than anything he’d ever owned.

“Two: weak drinks only.”

We’ll see, Gwaine mouthed behind Merlin.

“Three - ”  Merlin held up a third finger.  “You leave when I leave.  Will’s right about the after-curfew crowd.  That’s a sort of trouble you don’t need.”  He looked expectantly at Daegal.  “Agreed?”

“Agreed.”  Daegal nodded fervently.  “Is it - who’s coming?”  

“Everybody!” Elyan supplied happily, uncinching the horse’s girth.  “You saved our king.  We owe you a night out.”   

Merlin, who had perhaps understood Daegal’s question better, said, “Everybody who likes drinks and dicing and general uproar.” 

This statement prompted appreciative, anticipatory grins from Gwaine and Elyan, and Daegal refrained from asking any follow-up questions, having understood the answer perfectly well.  He had been working with Merlin long enough to know that if there were one thing Will avoided more assiduously than King Arthur, it was large groups of loud people losing their heads over absolutely nothing.

“Let’s get started, then,” Gwaine said.  “D’you think you can untack this beast and learn the rules to Hazard at the same time?”

Daegal stuffed the dice into his pocket and grasped the bridle’s noseband buckle.  “I can try.”

Gwaine grinned wolfishly.  “That’s just what I like to hear.”

They ended up staying a bit later than they’d intended. 

By the time Merlin finally had the sense to bring the evening to a close, Daegal had turned the single half-penny he had started with into several silver pieces (“Alchemy!” Gwaine had proclaimed triumphantly, knocking his cup into Daegal’s so that some of the drink had sloshed over), and Daegal had become very popular with some of the tavern regulars, who were beyond tickled to see a seventeen year-old boy flatten strangers’ smug expectations of victory.  Daegal had not won every time, of course, but he had gotten extremely lucky at several critical moments and had at the very end miraculously thrown his chance number twice, after the odds had already been declared heavily against him (and thus after the other players had upped their contribution to Daegal’s stake with the expectation that he would lose).

Merlin had pulled Daegal from the game after that, sitting him back down at the knights’ table, which was piled high with food and drink.  “First lesson,” he’d said, offering Daegal a very watered-down ale, “and one you won’t learn from Gwaine - quit while you’re ahead.” 

They had stayed for a long time after that, socializing and eating their fill, until Merlin had finally seemed to take notice of the time (or perhaps of the slightly seedy-looking characters who had started to wander in through the back entrance).  Merlin, at that point, had prompted Daegal to gather his winnings, say his goodbyes, and make his exit, pursued by a chorus of enthusiastic farewells from the knights, none of whom showed any sign of abandoning their seats anytime soon.

Stepping out into the night air was like diving into a frozen moat.  Daegal drew his cloak tighter around his torso as he and Merlin wound their way through the town.  The Rising Sun’s interior had been as stiflingly hot as its namesake, overflowing with a press of bodies and thrumming with a constant cacophony of conversation, and even from the outside its closed shutters leaked driblets of light and noise, as if the building were bursting at the seams.  The town, by contrast, was stone-silent and frigid, everybody shut up in their homes waiting for the weak light of morning. 

“You did well,” Merlin said, as they approached the citadel.  “You’re sure you’ve never played Hazard before?”

Daegal shook his head.  His mother would never have let him, before, and after - 

He pushed that thought away, watching his breath mist in front of his face.  He’d never had enough money to gamble with after that, that was all.

“You weren’t helping me, were you?” Daegal asked Merlin.

“No, you got lucky.”  Merlin chuckled.  “The look on that fellow’s face...”

Daegal smiled faintly, remembering.  Daegal had taken rather a lot of money from a beefy, belligerent fellow who had been bothering everybody all night, which had resulted in a vastly improved tavern experience for all when the man had stormed out in a rage, and which had also earned a round of free drinks for Daegal’s table.  “He wasn’t too pleased, was he?”

“No, he wasn’t.  Not quite the sort of evening he was expecting to have, I don’t think.”

They walked on, approaching the retracted drawbridge, and detoured to the parallel pedestrian crossing instead, passing through the smaller door to the bridge’s left and entering the courtyard, Merlin offering a hello to the familiar guards as they went.

“How does it feel to be older?” Merlin asked, as they crossed the darkened square.

Daegal shrugged.  “I don’t know.  The same, I suppose.”

But that wasn’t exactly true, Daegal thought, as they entered the base of the North Tower.  Last year, things had been very different.  A few months ago, he could never have dreamed of the sort of day he’d been having today.  And now - 

He hesitated at the bottom of the stair leading to the physician’s chambers.  Merlin, oblivious to the fact that Daegal was not right behind him, kept climbing.  

“Why are you doing all this?” Daegal asked.  His voice sounded strange in his own ears, or maybe that was just a function of the echo in the hollow space, his words bouncing off the stone shell on either side of him.

Merlin turned around, surprised to see Daegal still standing at the bottom of the stairs.  “All what?”

Daegal made an uncertain gesture.  “This.  All these things today...I don’t understand.”

“It’s your birthday,” Merlin said, as if that made any sense at all.

“It’s not, though,” Daegal said.  “Even if it were, I don’t see - I mean, it doesn’t matter.”  He shrugged uncomfortably.  “Who cares?”

Merlin stared levelly at Daegal.  “I do,” he said.

A long silence ensued.  Daegal could not possibly have formulated a reply to this even if he’d known what to say, but Merlin did not ask him to respond, instead descending a few steps and putting a hand on Daegal’s elbow, nudging him up the staircase.  “Come on,” he said quietly.  “It’s late.”

Daegal followed him without a word, stunned and silent, seven stories straight up.

“Isn’t it a bit past your bedtime, old man?” Merlin said, immediately upon opening the doors to the physician’s chambers.  

Daegal, trailing behind, thought this was a very unusual way for Merlin to address Gaius, but as he peered around Merlin’s shoulder, he realized it was not Gaius to whom Merlin was speaking, but Will, who was sitting by the little hearthfire at the left of the room with his feet propped up on a stool.  

“No,” Will replied, though he did look like he was ready to doze off.  “It might be a bit past Arthur’s, though.”

Merlin swore and stopped dead in the doorway.  “He sent somebody up?”

“Several somebodies.”

“What did you tell them?

Will waved an unconcerned hand.  “I don’t remember.”   

“Will - ”

“Isn’t he waiting for you to turn down his sheets or something?”

“Did you tell them I was at the tavern?”

Will smirked.  

Merlin, cursing under his breath, took Daegal by the upper arms and maneuvered him into the room.  “Drink some water.  Kip on the patient cot - you’re up early collecting pots with Gaius tomorrow; you might as well sleep here.”  He tore off his outerwear and dumped it on a table.  “You,” he said to Will, “on the other hand, can go home, you ass.”

Will tipped his chair back, cupping a hand to his ear.  “What’s that?  ‘Have my bed, William’?  All right, if you say so.”

Merlin flashed Will a rude gesture before tearing out of the room.  Daegal caught the door before it could slam and closed it carefully, so as not to disturb Gaius, who was sleeping behind the screens that had been drawn around his corner.

Will rose from his seat with a yawn, stretching.  “So you had your evening out at last.”

Daegal did not answer him, his mind still trapped back there in the stairwell with Merlin.  I do, he heard again, as he struggled to untie his cloak.  I do.  

“Was it everything you thought it would be?”

Daegal managed to undo the knot, his fingers clumsy with cold.  He pulled his cloak from his shoulders and folded it slowly, first in half, then in fours, and then laid it aside before doing the same with Merlin’s rumpled jacket, single-mindedly focused on his task.

“I hope you at least took something off Gwaine.  Fellow’s too cocky for his own good.”

Daegal, out of things to fold, stared at his hands.  Will came closer, scrutinizing Daegal in the low light.  “How much did you have to drink?” 

Daegal stuck his hands into his pockets, avoiding Will’s gaze.  Not much, was the true answer, but he couldn’t find the words.  

He fingered the coins in his pocket, the silver pieces cold and clinking against one another.  

“Oi,” Will said, frowning.  He tipped Daegal’s chin up to see his eyes.  “You all right in there?”

Morgana had given Daegal a sack of coins just like this, once.

Daegal yanked his hands out of his pockets as if he had been burned, jerking back from Will’s fingers.  

“This is wrong,” he blurted out.

Will blinked at him.  “Sorry?”

“I can’t do this.  It’s - I can’t.  It’s not right.”

“What isn’t?”

“Everything!  The birthday, the money, the tavern, the riding - ”  Daegal's voice was rising, but he could not rein himself in.  He had been trying to tell this to someone all day.  “The horse, the land, breakfast - ”

Will stared at him, confounded.  “Breakfast?”

Daegal struggled mightily not to holler in frustration.  Will, of all people, ought to have understood, but it appeared he was committed to being just as obtuse as everyone else.  “Yes!  I don’t deserve it; it isn’t right - ”

Will’s eyebrows shot up.  He did not give Daegal another chance to wake Gaius, but planted a hand on Daegal’s shoulder and spun him around, muttering, “Go,” in a low voice, pushing Daegal away from Gaius’s sleeping area in the direction of Merlin’s chambers.  Daegal allowed himself to be marched up the little staircase, Will following, until they were both in Merlin’s room, the small chamber chilly and cloaked with shadows, lit only by a single hanging candle.  

Closing the door, Will turned back to Daegal.  “Start over,” he commanded.

Daegal whipped out Arthur’s envelope.  “The King - he gave me a land grant.”

Will snatched the piece of parchment out of Daegal’s hand, scanning it briefly.  “So?” he said, discarding the envelope onto Merlin’s desk.  “He can afford it.”

“But it’s - ”

“Nothing he’ll miss.”

“But - ”

“But what?”

“The Queen - ”

“What about her?”

“She gave me a horse.”

Will shrugged.  “And?”

“It’s too much!  I can’t - ”

“Are you planning to thank her for it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to take care of it?”

“Of course!”

“Then what’s the trouble?  She wanted you to have it.”

“She gave it to me for the wrong reasons!” Daegal exclaimed frustratedly.  “She kept saying I helped her, but I didn’t do anything.  I didn’t even know she needed help.  I thought she wanted the throne for herself - ”

“You stopped her killing her husband,” Will said, interrupting.  “You saved his life.”

“I didn’t save him.  I almost killed him.  I’m the reason he needed help in the first place.  But all of them are acting like - ”  Daegal thought back to earlier that night, to Elyan, who had shown Daegal how to calculate Hazard odds in his head; to Leon, who had spoken to Daegal like one of the adults; to Percival, who had taught Daegal the less savory lyrics to the tavern’s favorite drinking songs; and to Gwaine, who had murmured advice in Daegal’s ear while Daegal cast his dice.  “They kept saying I’d done their job for them.  They - ”  

A horrible, hollow feeling bloomed in Daegal’s chest, strangling his voice.  He pulled the coins out of his pocket and dumped them onto Merlin’s desk, not wanting to carry that cold weight for another moment.  “They don’t know me.  They don’t know what I’m like.”

Will watched him closely, his eyes narrowing.  “What are you like?”  

Daegal shook his head and sank down onto Merlin’s bed, staring at the floor.  He didn’t want to say it.  He shouldn’t need to say it.  Will already knew the whole story; Daegal shouldn’t have needed to retread all the ugly details.  

Will folded his arms, leaning back against the top of Merlin’s desk.  The single candle did very little to illuminate his set expression, but the moonlight in the window behind him threaded his silhouette with silver.

“I shouldn’t have said anything about my birthday,” Daegal murmured, his voice thick.  “I should have just kept it quiet.  That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

Will frowned.  “Who said that?”

“Merlin.  When I didn’t mention my birthday - he said you were - well, he said we were two of a kind.”

Will shook his head.  “I don’t hide my birthday.”

“I think you must,” Daegal said stubbornly, returning to his intense inspection of the floorboards.  “Because I don’t even know when it is.”

“Neither do I.”

Daegal looked up, surprised.  “What?”

“I don’t know when my birthday is.”

“Why - ”

Will lifted a finger repressively, and Daegal realized he was not going to be getting that part of the story tonight, or maybe ever.  “It doesn’t matter,” Will said.  “I don’t care.  I don’t fancy it much, anyhow.  It’s nothing to me.  Merlin, though - ”  He gestured at the room around them, at the mussed bedclothes and the stacked manuscripts and the sketched diagrams pasted to the walls.  “He doesn’t like it when I say things like that.  It bothers him.  He’s got ideas about how these things are supposed to be done, and he thinks it’s wrong, not telling me happy birthday, even if I’d rather he just left it alone.”

Daegal had no trouble believing it, if Merlin’s reaction to Daegal’s skipped birthday were anything to go by.  “But then - ”  Daegal frowned.  “He mustn’t know when your birthday is, either.”

“My birthday,” Will said, in a long-suffering way, “is whenever Merlin decides he wants it to be.  He comes crawling into my cott at some godsforsaken hour of the morning on whatever personally convenient day he’s picked that year, and then he yanks me out of bed and feeds me too much food and drags me all over creation doing the sort of things he thinks I’ll like doing.  I’ve been telling him to drop it for more years than you’ve been alive, but he never listens.  It doesn’t matter how much I whinge about it.  He never forgets.  He can’t help himself.  He thinks it’s important, telling people he’s happy they were born, even if they don’t think being born was such a fantastic thing themselves.”  

Will gestured at Daegal.  “If you’re going to be one of his people now, you’re going to have to get used to that.  You don’t have to like it, but you’ve got to understand it.  That’s who he is.  That’s how he treats people.  He won’t give you a pass on birthday fuss just because you don’t think you’re worth fussing over.  He’s not built that way.”

Daegal heard Merlin’s words again, echoing against the frozen stones of the stairwell.  Who cares? Daegal had asked.  

I do.

He twisted his fingers together.  Out in the physician’s chamber proper, Gaius was snoring.  

“It’s not just Merlin, though,” Daegal said finally, in a soft voice.  “Everybody - all of them are doing too much.”

“Too much how?”

“They keep thanking me.  But the gifts are - I didn’t earn them.  I don’t deserve them.”

“Who told you that?”

“I don’t need anyone to tell me; I know.”  Daegal stared at Will, helpless to explain why Will’s inability to accept this simple truth made him feel so utterly lost at sea.  “I don’t understand this.  You’re the one who kept saying I did something wrong.”

“You did do something wrong,” Will replied, as if this entire line of discussion were so obvious that it did not need to be examined.  “But you did something right, too.”

“I - ”

Will held up a hand.  “Who was it nearly got themselves killed saving Pendragon’s gleaming hide?  Who was it betrayed Morgana?”

“Me, but - ”

“Who was it came back to save Merlin’s life?”

“From something I did to him in the first place.”

“From something Morgana did to him,” Will corrected.

“I helped,” Daegal retorted.  “You’re always saying - you said I need to take responsibility.”

“You do,” Will said.  “For all your choices.  Not just the shyte ones.”  He gestured at the door, back towards the rest of the castle.  “You saved two lives.  You nearly got yourself killed doing it.  That’s what they’re all thanking you for.  It’s not about what you did for yourself; it’s what you did for everyone else, when you didn’t have to.  You didn’t have to come back for Merlin.  You didn’t have to follow him to Camelot.  You could have just taken Morgana’s money and run.”

“I tried,” Daegal confessed, his mouth very dry.  “I tried.  I couldn’t do it.”

“Why not?” Will said, as if he already knew the answer.

“I just - couldn’t.”  Daegal remembered it with a nightmarish clarity, hesitating in the thickness of the undergrowth as the encroaching night muddled his vision, knowing that Merlin was suffocating at the bottom of a muddy ravine where no one would ever find his body.  “I felt like something was going to swallow me.  I would’ve rather died than felt like that all the time.”

“That’s because you know what’s right and what’s wrong,” Will said, as if he had been waiting for Daegal to say this all along.  “And you chose right.”

“I chose wrong first.”

Will shook his head.  “Lots of people choose wrong first.  Doesn’t mean that what you choose next doesn’t matter.”

Daegal played with the hem of his sleeve, wrapping a fraying thread around his finger.  Will pushed himself up from the desk and dragged Merlin’s chair over to a spot across from Daegal, then sat down.  “Listen here,” he said.  “I can’t say I’d be too pleased to get a load of gifts that I didn’t think I ought to have, either.  But you can’t give them back, and you can’t convince people that you don’t deserve them, either.”  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “You’ve got to just smile, and say thank you, and do your best to be worthy of everyone’s gifts.”

Daegal absorbed this, nodding slowly.  “I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” Will said.  “And so does everyone else.”  Will met Daegal’s gaze unflinchingly, his outline illuminated at the edges by the moon at his back.  “Don’t you ever tell me that lot doesn’t know what you’re like.  They know it better than you do.”

Daegal swallowed, not trusting himself to speak.  

“Now then,” Will said, linking his hands behind the back of his chair and stretching out his arms.  “This is rubbish timing, but you’ve got to start practicing sometime, so let’s just get it over with.”  He withdrew a thin, utensil-sized package from his pocket, extending it to Daegal.  “Don’t have a crisis, now.”

“Oh - no - ” Daegal moaned.

“Oi,” Will warned.  “What’ve we just talked about?”

Daegal took the parcel.

“Smile and say thank you,” Will prompted, when Daegal did not say anything right away.

Daegal managed a wobbly smile, and an even wobblier thank you, which Will, to Daegal’s very great relief, chose not to comment upon.

Daegal untied the parcel.  The cloth casing fell away, revealing a short and sturdy pocketknife encased in a plain leather sheath.  Daegal picked it up and turned it over in his hands, knowing immediately that Will had carved the handle himself.  It fit into Daegal’s hand as if it had been moulded from a plaster cast, and it was the only part of the knife sporting any decoration, inscribed as it was with an angular script that Daegal could not read in this light.  Daegal removed the sheath and found that the blade had been sharpened to a dangerous edge, the point glinting in the moonlight.

“Elyan did that bit,” Will said.  “It ought to hold an edge better than what you have now.”

“No more mashing seed pods,” Daegal murmured.

“Exactly.”

Daegal ran a finger over the symbols carved into the handle.  He hadn’t learned all his letters yet, but he thought he ought to have been able to recognize a few of them, at least.  “What’s this writing?”

“Oh, that,” Will said, as if he had almost forgotten.  “It’s spelled.”

“Spelled?”

“Magicked.  Against slips.  To spare your fingers.”  Will waggled his own fingers in the air, and Daegal had to laugh a little.

“Merlin?”

Will’s face took on a thoughtful look.  “No, actually.”  He pointed at the unfamiliar runes, his tone becoming more serious.  “Mordred says that if you’re going to exploit his people for personal gain, then you’re going to learn something about the culture.”

Daegal froze.  A chill ran through him.  He had never even considered - 

He gripped the inscribed handle with sweaty fingers, mortified.  “He’s angry with me.”

“No,” Will said.  “I don’t think so, at least.  It’s hard to tell with that fellow.”

At Daegal’s dismayed look, Will added, “He offered to spell the thing himself, at least, so I can’t imagine he’s too upset with you.  But he has every right to be, you realize that?”

Daegal nodded quickly.     

“You’re going to go and see him,” Will said, his voice calm, but his tone brooking no argument.  “And you’re going to apologize, and you’re going to listen to whatever it is he wants to tell you.  You understand?”

“Yes,” Daegal said quickly.  “I’ll do it.”  He glanced at the door.

“Not now,” Will clarified.  “Tomorrow.  He might not be angry just yet, but he will be if you yank him out of bed a few hours before he’s supposed to be on patrol.”

Daegal’s shoulders sagged.  Will was right, but Daegal could not stand the thought of waiting.  Yet another guilt-monster was chewing a hole in his stomach, and he was starting to think those gnawing teeth would never let him sleep.  He recalled, suddenly, with a fresh wave of horror, the outrage on Merlin’s face when Daegal’s falsified triskele had smeared away, how tightly Merlin’s fingers had dug into Daegal’s wrist.  

Here was one more stupid thing Daegal had done.  One more person he’d injured.  One more wrongheaded decision.  

His eyes drifted longingly towards the door again.  

“No,” Will said, shaking his head.  “You made that bed, now you lie in it for one night.”  

Daegal sighed, and Will’s tone softened.  “You’ll make it right in the morning,” he said.

Daegal traced one of the Druidic runes with a finger.  He supposed that was the best he could do.

Will stood up and beckoned for Daegal to join him.  “Listen,” he said, pushing Merlin’s chair back under the desk.  “It’s late.  I don’t want you up all night brooding over this, all right?”

“All right,” Daegal said, but he had a feeling he was in for yet another night of lying awake under a blanket of guilt he had woven for himself.

“And - not that this needs to be said, but let’s not tell anyone you’ve got a magic pocketknife, all right?  Pendragon will think I’ve been messing about with enchantments behind his back, and he’ll have me booted out of this kingdom faster than you can say insufferable bastard.”

“But you don’t have - ”

“Yes, I do,” Will reminded Daegal, giving him a significant look.  “And that’s exactly what you’re going to tell people, if anybody starts asking questions.”  He opened Merlin’s door, ushering Daegal through it.  “But let’s not give folk a reason to ask, all right?  Otherwise the next person trying to kill the king might be me, because if Pendragon wants me out of this place he’s going to have to execute me and exile my corpse, no matter if I did sign a stupid promise ‘renouncing the practice of magic in all its forms,’ or whatever other rubbish that idiot asked me to agree to.”

Daegal followed Will across the main chamber, watching while Will pulled on his outerwear.  “I’m guessing he never gave you a land grant, then?”

Will burst into laughter, leaning heavily on the door handle.  He only remembered to clap a hand over his mouth when a slumbering Gaius snorted and rolled over.  “Oh, lor,” he wheezed, trying to recover himself.  “Don’t do that to me.”  

Daegal smiled sheepishly.  Will straightened up, his eyes creased with pure, undisciplined mirth.  “You won’t let all those fancy presents go to your head, now, will you?”

“I won’t,” Daegal promised.   “But - about Arthur’s gift, though.  I don’t actually know what to do with a plot of land.”

“Neither does Arthur,” Will said, rolling his eyes.  “But I do, and so does Merlin.  We’ll work it out together, all right?”

“All right,” Daegal said, as Will unlatched the door.  “Erm.  Will - ”

“Yeah.”

Smile and say thank you.  “Thank you,” Daegal said, trying on a smile for size, hoping it did not falter too much at the corners.  “For the knife, and - everything else.”

Will regarded him in that way of his that was very off-putting when you did not want to be read like a book but somehow oddly useful when you were trying to communicate something unspoken.  “You’re welcome,” Will said finally, surprising Daegal by reaching out and mussing his hair.  “See?  You’ve got the hang of things already.”

Will turned to go, but when he reached the top of the staircase he paused, glancing back.  “And, listen - ” he said, his voice low enough not to wake Gaius, but somehow warm enough to push back the December chill.  “Whether you like it or not - happy birthday, lad.”

Daegal sat tucked away in one of the window nooks, his cloak wrapped around him like a blanket and the glass casement leaching heat away from his side.  Merlin was long since abed, and Gaius’s muffled snores filled the main chamber, a soft drone of sound behind the screens.  Outside, the moon hung chubby and ovoid in the sky, like a pale seed on a black field of soil, like the bulbs Daegal would plant in his new garden, which was out there somewhere, nestled in the farming fields of the Sprawl.

He rubbed his thumb over the unfamiliar runes carved into the handle of his birthday blade.  His sixteen year-old self would have thrown that knife away, just to be safe.  There would have been no reason for him to believe that someone he’d injured would ever magick a gift for him just to be helpful, and sixteen year-old Daegal would have assumed that the spell “to spare his fingers” was in fact a curse to make sure they all fell off.  

But seventeen year-old Daegal was determined not to think like that anymore.  He was not going to think the worst of everyone who tried to help him, and he was not going to throw away gifts, whether he thought he deserved them or not.  He was going to smile, and say thank you, and do his best to be worthy of what he’d been given.

He leaned his forehead against the cold glass, looking down at the flickering lights on the city walls and the dark countryside beyond.  The Sprawl’s rolling jumble of cottages and fields melted into a shadowy sea of forest, and far away, the looming bulk of the White Mountains towered over the skyline, the peaks’ black silhouettes only distinguishable at this hour by an absence of stars.  

It was a very big world, Daegal thought, following the craggy outline of the range with his eyes.  And he had made plenty of bad decisions blundering around within its borders, that was certain.  But there was something beautiful about it still, even in the dead of winter.  

And it was not nearly as bleak as it had appeared to be, this time last year.  

Seventeen was going to be different, Daegal told himself.  Like Merlin always said.  It won’t always be like this.  Things will be better.  Daegal could make them better.  He had chosen wrong first, but he could choose right next.  He could choose right from now on.  He had made a mistake, but he could make it right in the morning.  

And tonight - tonight, it was still his birthday.

It isn’t, his sixteen year-old self snapped.  

“It is,” Daegal said.  “It’s my birthday.”

Who cares, the voice scoffed.

Daegal wrapped his fingers around his unearned mark of forgiveness, the grooves of the rune-etched handle imprinting themselves into his skin.  “I do,”  he said firmly, putting every ounce of conviction he had behind the words.  “I do.”

His younger self shut its mouth.

Daegal smiled slightly.  “Happy birthday to me,” he murmured, and was surprised to find that for the first time in a long time, he actually meant it.  

Curled up against the window, he tucked his knife against his side and fixed his eyes on the horizon, settling in to wait for the sun.

[thirsty-x1]

Too Much | Cho Seungyoun

Request:

can i request a smutty oneshot where the reader is ceo!seungyoun’s gf and after a couple days of him coming home late/not coming him at all because he’s overworking himself, she goes to his office herself (all dressed up 👀) to try and help him unwind/relax? basically him fucking his gf over a desk lmao, hope this is okay!

↬ Pairing: Seungyoun x fem!reader.

↬ Genre: Smut, bit of fluffy ending.

↬ Warnings: explicit language, dom!Seungyoun, dirty talking, slight degradation, semi-exhibitionism, oral sex (blowjob), very slight bondage, fingering, unprotected sex.

↬ Word Count: 3.8k.

↬ Song Recommendation: “Too Much” by Loco ft. Dean.

The sun coming down reflected on your windshield as you drove your car, turning right before seeing your destination come in sight. The building stood tall, somehow looking threatening and making you doubt whether you really were going to follow through your plan. It wasn’t a hurried decision considering that you had been trying to gather the courage to do it since quite a few weeks after noticing the pattern your boyfriend had started to create, but it was also your first time visiting him at work. Taking a deep breath, you parked the car, your fingers turning white as you held the steering wheel tightly, comforting you a bit before you got out.

A slight breeze sent shivers down your spine, the cold air impacting mainly on your exposed legs. Your eyes travelled down examining your outfit, wondering if it was fancy enough; as the CEO’s girlfriend, you couldn’t just show up in any clothes. The mid-thigh skirt wasn’t doing much to protect you against the weather, although it would have been much worse without the thin dark stockings underneath it. You ironed the white shirt with your fingers and fixed your coat while walking towards the entrance, the sound of your high heels resonating on the empty street.

Pushing through the heavy glass door, a man behind the welcoming desk smiled at you kindly but without saying a word, waiting for you to initiate the conversation, which was rather odd… wasn’t that supposed to work the other way? Without giving it much thought, you proceeded to ask in a low voice.

“Excuse me… I have come to meet the CEO, Cho Seungyoun.”

The man nodded, as if he expected it, and asked in a condescending tone: “Do you have an appointment?”

“Ah, no, but I–” He waited no time in interrupting you.

“Then I’m afraid you can’t see him now. If you call to this number,” he scribbled down in a card, handing it to you, the tactic being too obvious as you saw what was probably his name on it, “you can arrange a meeting.”

Smiling as sweetly as you could, you declined his offer. “I’m his girlfriend.”

You could see the blush on his face as his eyes opened wide, starting to stutter as he pointed out the way indicating which floor you had to go to, much more polite than at the beginning. It was fun to see the immediate change without even confirming whether it was true, the thought of the employee trembling at the fact making you wonder just how strict of a boss was Seungyoun.

Waiting for the elevator you could feel eyes on you, turning away whenever you tried to catch who they belonged to. As you heard a few people muttering, you noticed that other’s women outfits weren’t as sophisticated as you were, rather using full suits instead of skirts and blazers on top of their shirts. You started to feel slightly embarrassed, focusing on the numbers changing as the elevator went up, your hands quickly closing the long coat as a way to protect yourself from the gazes.

After what it seemed to take forever, you got to the floor, hurriedly getting out of the cramped space while examining the whole room to see if you could find your boyfriend’s office. Finally, you noticed a slouched figure behind one of the glass walls, a sudden relief washing over your body as you recognized Seungyoun working on his office, sitting behind his desk as he seemed to study the papers in front of him. Nodding to some of the workers you passed by, you opened the door, careful to not disturb him as you got in.

“Have you finally brought the right papers? Also, ask everyone to stop sending messages through the work chat, I can see them, and what are they all being so loud for? Who came? I haven’t authorized anyone to pass.” His tone was completely serious as he rearranged some of the papers on the desk, almost throwing one of the folders to you as he looked up to his screen to check something. “The numbers are wrong, ask the statistic office to check them at least once.”

It was hard to hold back your giggle. “Would be nice if you looked up every now and then, your employees will hate you otherwise.”

Right when you started the sentence, his eyes shoot up, a smile spreading on his face as he stood up and walked around the dark wood table to hug you.

“What are you doing here? I thought you would be at home…”

Pouting, you played with the collar of his shirt. “Well, you have been working way too much… and since it’s impossible to make you take one free day, I thought of coming here.” You placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning to press a kiss against his sleep thankful that he was covering you from anyone spying.

“I know, it’s just that the deadline is close and everything must be perfect, plus we started a new deal with another business.” It was fun to see the contrast between his boss-self and the Seungyoun you were so familiar with, especially as he put a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I need to finish some work now, would you mind to wait for a bit? We can go have dinner to some fancy place afterwards.”

There wasn’t much you could do now and he was being too kind considering you came without prior notice too. You nodded, not without slapping his butt as he turned around to go back to his seat. While you heard the incessant typing, you walked around, staring at the multiple diplomas and degrees on the walls. On one of the shelves, there were all the awards that the agency had won next to pictures of Seungyoun with numerous renowned business men. It had been barely a year since you two had started dating, but by now you had noticed he wasn’t too keen on talking about his work, which was a bit surprising seeing just how big part of his life it had become. When you asked him about it, he simply said it was because he preferred to keep both separated and focus on relaxing while at home and you hadn’t pressed much on it.

After a few minutes, you took of your coat and sat down on the sofa, grabbing one of the magazines that was on the coffee table without paying much attention to it. Instead, you preferred to watch Seungyoun working: the way his hair was slicked back, his tie slightly loose since he pulled on it whenever he got stressed, the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled showing the shiny wrist watch that blinded you each time he angled it in a particular way and one of your favorite tattoos of him, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose sliding a bit and his hand quickly putting them back in place, how he nibbled on his bottom lip, the soft grunt he would let out when something in the screen wasn’t going the way he wanted… You knew he was having a hard time, but he was also looking extremely hot while doing it so, to the point where you couldn’t think straight anymore.

“Is that article so interesting?” His question interrupted your thoughts, causing you to blink a few times and he smirked. “You have been drooling for quite a while…”

You let out a breathy laugh and got up to walk next to him, hugging him from behind and resting your head on the crook of his neck. “Is there a lot left?”

He pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. “Almost done.”

“Hmm… You are pretty tense.” Your hands slid down his chest, barely grazing his belt. “Want me to help you relax a bit?”

Seungyoun sighed, grasping your wrist right before it got to his groin. “I’m at work, princess.”

“And?” You pressed your lips against his neck, lightly nibbling on the skin before licking a stripe, his head falling to a side to allow you reach more. “If I get under the desk, it should be fine, right? You deserve it, you have been working so hard…”

Before he could even form an answer, you took a peak outside the office only to notice almost everyone had gone by now and dropped to your knees, quickly undoing his belt and unzipping his pants, palming him over his underwear earning a groan from him. Maybe it was the rush of being caught what turned him on so much because in just a few minutes he was hard, his length twitching under the fabric.

“Don’t tease me, y/n.” His tone was commanding, eyes piercing as he looked down on you, the new side of him making you wet. “Be a good girl and suck me off, hm?”

Unable to form any kind of reply that didn’t expose just how much power his words had over your whole self, you decided to follow his order. Hooking your fingers on the tight band of his underwear, you pulled it down enough to free him, his head thrown back as you slid your tongue on his shaft covering it up with your saliva. With a wicked smile, you teased the tip of his cock, already tasting the precum forming on the tiny slit. His head rested on the back of your head, encouraging you to take him in your mouth, shutting his eyes closed as he felt your lips wrapping around his member.

Right as you were about to begin bobbing your head, the door of the office opened, the sound of steps getting closer to the desk stopping you dead on your tracks. You looked up, trying to get some kind of indication on what to do from your boyfriend but he was completely ignoring you, his gaze fixed on the person before him.

“Is there anything you want to tell me, Miss Lee?”

“Ah, yes, here are the files you asked for, Sir.” You could feel a hesitant tone on her voice and you wondered if she was the woman that Seungyoun was waiting for when you had entered his office earlier.

“Thank you.” Realizing that the woman hadn’t left, Seungyoun continued. “Anything else?”

“W-well, you see… Some of the other employees were going to have a drinking meet up to celebrate the stocks going up, a-and… I was wondering if you would like to c-come…” You rolled your eyes at the obvious excuse to flirt with him, but what annoyed you the most was how much time your boyfriend was taking to decline the offer so you could continue, so you engulfed more of his length into your mouth and heard his fist impact on the desk, scaring you and his secretary, apparently. “A-are you feeling well, Sir?”

“Yes, it’s nothing, sorry, thought there was… something…” His voice sounded strained, so you swirled your tongue and pressed lightly on the underside of his tip.

“I see… T-then, will you come with us to celebrate?”

Just as a reminder, you went all the way, holding back a gag when you felt him hit the back of your throat, causing him to clear his own. “No, I’m sorry, but I have plans with my girlfriend tonight.” Pleased with his answer, you were about to pull out until his hand forced you to stay in place.

“Oh… I will get going then. Have a good night, sir.”

As the door closed, you hurriedly tapped on his thigh and he put his hand away allowing you to pull his dick out of your mouth as you coughed violently, the air hitting your lungs all at once as you tried to dry the tears that had clouded your vision. While you tried to recover, Seungyoun put away all the things on his work station with the most calmed expression, taking his time until he finished and went back to look at you, his thumb wiping the corner of your lips.

“I warned you to not tease me, baby.” He fixed his clothes again before he leaned in and picked you up, placing you on his desk. “Guess I should have expected it seeing the outfit you are wearing. Were you the one to cause all that fuss in the office?” His hand slid up your leg, appreciating the smoothness of the stockings. “I can’t have you wrecking the whole place… or was that what you wanted?”

“N-no…”

His actions made it hard for you to focus on what he was saying, the previous situation had already turned you on beyond any expectation but now it was him acting all confident, teasing you on purpose.

“Are you sure? Are you sure you didn’t want my secretary to listen to those lewd noises you made while choking on my cock?” His fingers slipped under your skirt. “Or have my employees trying to get a sneak peak of your ass?” Seungyoun’s gaze burned, your cheeks hot as he analyzed each of your reactions, smirking at the gasp that left your lips when he cupped your core. “You are dripping wet, sweetheart…”

“Seungyoun, please…”

His fingers kept rubbing you, the friction not being enough, the two layers of fabric, your panties and the stockings, starting to become annoying as you held his hand in place.

“Tsk, no, you didn’t follow my order before, so you don’t get to do what you want.”

Within a second, he slapped your grip, undoing his tie and wrapping it around your wrists, tying them behind your back rather tightly. You could feel the blood burn under your skin, your muscles itching in anticipation and your heart beating faster as you noticed a few lights still on outside the office. What if there was anyone out there? What if you got caught in the act? How was Seungyoun going to explain that and would it have any negative consequences on his position? All the questions dissipated from your mind as you heard a loud ripping noise, looking down to find your boyfriend smiling playfully.

“You- You ripped my stockings?!” For a second, you forgot of the whole scenario, but he made sure to remind you who was in charge in a flash, his fingers making your underwear to a side and feeling up the slit of your pussy.

“They were in the way and this is most discrete than having you fully exposed on my desk, don’t you think?” Your muscles tightened at the suggestion and he raised an eyebrow. “You like that idea? Hmm, who would have thought that my darling could be such a slut…? Wanting to be exhibited…” One of his fingers entered you, Seungyoun purring on your ear as he felt you clenching around it. “What would everyone think? You looked so professional a few hours ago and now you are sprawled and whining for me on my desk.”

The feeling was overwhelming, his breath grazing your skin with each word he said, making you feel hot all over as you fought with the strains that prohibited you touching him. He kept fingering you at a slow pace, loving how you squirmed under his touch, trying to keep your sounds low in case anyone would hear, but when he suddenly inserted another finger, it was impossible to hold back the guttural moan you let out.

“Fuck, Seungyoun, I really can’t take it…”

“Hm? Weren’t you going to help me relax? Maybe you are not the good pet I thought you would be…” You could feel that he was going to pull back, so reuniting each bit of strength you had left, you surrounded him with your legs and pressed him against you.

“Please, please… Use me in any way you want but I beg you to fuck me, I just can’t wait anymore, I need you, Youn, please…” The last few words came out muffled with sobs, the need in your system growing bigger and bigger under his hungry stare.

“You are too much, babygirl, too much for anyone to handle…” His hands unbuttoned your shirt impatiently, sighing when his favorite lacy bra came into view. “Anyone but me.”

His lips crashed against yours in a rough kiss, groaning at his own taste on your mouth as he slipped his tongue in, swallowing all of your whimpers when he took out his cock and buried inside you in one strong thrust. Smoothly, he pushed your shoulders until you felt the cold wood through the thin fabric of your shirt, and Seungyoun would swear he could have come right then at the view: you, laying back on his desk with your hands tied up behind your back, your breasts bouncing each time he rammed into you, your skirt lifting up slightly to show your cunt taking him in with the panties aside and your ripped stockings, some of his precum smeared on the side of your face, your loud whimpers and the wet sound filling the room in evidence of the lustful act you two were doing. It was his biggest fantasy come true, but the real thing was so much better than what he had played on his mind over and over again.

Right as you felt the knot on your stomach tightening up, you saw a shadow cross the glass wall, fear invading you, but when you looked at Seungyoun, his smile was bigger than ever.

“Why are you so quiet now, doll? You suddenly feel shy? I’m their boss anyway.” His high pitched laugh didn’t match the aggressive pace he maintained while moving his hips. “Why don’t you let them hear who you belong to, hm? Who makes you feel this way? Who is in charge of pleasing you?”

You didn’t dare to reply with words, shaking your head multiple times while trying to make him stop somehow, although the way your body reacted to his voice was betraying your true desires.

“C’mon y/n, I know you love this… I can feel your dirty juices spilling, making a mess… Just admit it, baby, you love being fucked raw by me, completely at my mercy and being this vulnerable and exposed… so helpless…” He continued to shove his length into you, his hands holding your hips in place. “Can you let go of your inhibitions for me?”

Shyly, you opened your mouth. “I-It’s… too much…” Your whimper sent shivers down his spine, his cheeks blushing as he got closer to you.

“I know you can and want to take all of me in this pretty, tight hole of yours, my love, you just have to ask.” Seungyoun pressed a few kisses on the valley of your breasts, sucking on the skin and leaving marks. “Give yourself to me, y/n.”

Just like that, your whole body crumbled, your thighs shaking as your orgasm washed over you, your mouth letting out a mix of incoherencies along with your boyfriend’s name. A few thrusts later, Seungyoun came as well, the feeling of his sperm filling you making you complain from oversensitivity while he made sure to completely empty inside of you. He stayed like that for a while, holding you before peppering you with small kisses and praising against your skin just how good you had been for him, his hands quickly untying yours. When he got soft, he pulled out, hiding a giggle at the complete mess he had caused before looking for some wipes to clean you and himself a little.

When you composed yourself, you fixed your clothes, still feeling a bit uncomfortable with each movement you made since you could feel some of “Seungyoun” inside of you. Everything seemed to be in order, except for your ripped stockings for the which ones your boyfriend apologized under the promise of buying you even better ones, and while you were trying to comb your hair with your fingers, the criminal got closer, helping you put on your coat before hugging you.

“Do you feel more relaxed now?”

He laughed at your sarcastic question. “Yes, very.” Seungyoun pulled away, holding your face in his hands. “Thank you, really. Wasn’t quite expecting that ending but… It was amazing. You really are a good girl.”

Your whole face got red at the sudden compliment, slapping his arm before you grabbed your purse and got out of the office, still waiting for him outside of it. Carefully, you studied the surroundings, but no one seemed to be at the building, so maybe the shadow you had seen before was just a product of your imagination… or so you hoped.

As you got down on the elevator with Seungyoun tightly holding your hands and discussing where you should go to have dinner, you were greeted with an overall familiar face. The guy that had welcomed you earlier that day, and something told you that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t caused merely because of the incident during your presentation.

“Ah, Hangyul, you are still here?” Seungyoun’s tone was extremely casual, your eyes getting bigger as you realized that they must have been more than just co-workers. “Thought you would have gone out with Miss Lee to celebrate.”

The other man wouldn’t look at you in the eye and furtively avoiding your boyfriend’s stare. “Yeah, I just thought it would be more interesting to stay around here and… do some work…”

It was just for a fraction of a second, but you got to see the rampaging boner that the younger had, although he was desperately trying to cover it with his briefcase. Seungyoun must have noticed, because in a second he was standing in front of you, hiding you from his friend.

“I see. Was it interesting enough?” You suppose the other must have nodded due to the elder’s laugh. “Well done today, hope we can work together on some other opportunity. We will be leaving first, make sure to close properly and handle all unfinished business first hand.”

Immediately after you two left the building, Seungyoun exploded in laughter, making you feel even more embarrassed than before as you reprimanded him for making fun of the poor guy.

“That was too much, Youn! You crossed a line!”

His laughing fit started to calm, sliding an arm behind your back as you started walking to your car. “I was just imitating you, my love.”

The only sound that was heard was the echo of Seungyoun’s whine after you flicked his forehead. Despite his bad puns and silly attitude, he was still the man you had fallen for. A man that was “too much” for anyone, but not for you.

this has no business being so fucking long and I don’t know why I added Gyul at the ending but it just seemed fun and I want to cry so much because writing this made me incredibly horny bye

~Nani

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[quoj]

frailty, thy name is Roman

all right SO this is my FIRST time doing something of this sort so BE WARNED it will not be pretty I can assure you that much 

hurt/comfort

pairing: prinxiety (romantic)

warnings: a tiny bit of angst, descriptions of injuries, crying, hugging, descriptions of fight scenes

word count: 1909

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist)

★  ★  ★

Sweat pooled at Roman’s hairline as he slashed furiously at the Dragon Witch’s roaring frame, swiftly ducking to avoid being hit. His sword, ruby-encrusted at the hilt, glimmered tantalizingly between the monster’s dripping jaws, its eyes glinting with malice. The prince jumped to catch hold of it, but only succeeded in getting himself caught in the Dragon Witch’s sharp scales, which cut deep gashes in his arms. Crying out in pain, Roman released his grip on the animal’s rough skin and fell to the ground, clutching his forearm.

He’d been defeated. Again. How many times had it been? He’d lost count, he thought to himself bleakly. As if counting made it any easier to bear.

The Dragon Witch, sensing his belligerence, slithered smoothly to his side, purring at him soothingly. It cocked its head, peering at him with curiosity. Roman struggled to stand, forcing a smile for his friend. He’d called it here to spar with him earlier. 

Lightly stroking its scales, he turned away. He couldn’t bring himself to accept the fact that he couldn’t win a fight with the Dragon Witch—the very creature he’d brought to life just to slay for a talking point.

It’d been so easy then. What had changed?

Grumbling, he dusted himself and readied himself for yet another match. 

“Hey, Dragon Witch—one more for fun?” he rasped out at the now retreating animal, whose ears perked up at the thought of some more playtime with its best friend. It hesitated, however, when it saw the state of him. Roman, undeterred, nodded reassuringly at the Dragon Witch, inviting it to crawl closer.

He was terrified he couldn’t live up to the glory set for him by the others. He desperately needed to prove he could, and he would do whatever it took to achieve that.

The Dragon Witch laid Roman’s sword at his feet. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was grimy and covered in blood. Roman closed his eyes for a moment, grasping the hilt.

He brandished it in the air with a fierce battle cry. The Dragon Witch reared.

Slash. The Dragon Witch was whipping at him with his tail. He could easily parry this.

A stab. The creature dodged the weapon easily, eyes glittering as if laughing at him. He couldn’t do this.

Another parry, a sidestep, a feint to the head and a stab to the underbelly, where it was undefended . . .

A furious roar from the Dragon Witch and he was on his back again on the cool earth. He groaned, drowsily examining his limbs and torso for any damage. He suddenly felt something trickling down his face, just as he began to get dizzy.

He patted the Dragon Witch’s ears, watching it purr and stretch underneath his hand. He was dimly aware of the growing pain on the side of his head. The fact that even after so many tries, he couldn’t defeat the Dragon Witch was tormenting him. Lost in thought, the last thing he saw before he passed out was the animal’s concerned eyes peering down at him tentatively. Then the world went black. 

The next few minutes (or hours, or seconds) were a blur of hushed voices and wings flapping hurriedly, but Roman was too tired to open his eyes to check his surroundings. What was the point, anyway? He’d never be the prince Thomas needed him to be. All he wanted was to keep his eyes closed and drift off to sleep, where there’d be no pressure at all.

The next thing he was aware of was soft fingers brushing his left temple, and the sharp voice of the teacher he knew so well. But the delicateness of the hand on his head didn’t seem to match with Logan’s lecturing tone.

Roman groaned as he came to, blinking groggily as he saw two faces looking down at him, one deeply concerned and the other tutting disapprovingly. The contrast was so sharp it was almost comical, making Roman want to laugh. And laugh he did, delirious from the pain. This only served to make Virgil crease his brows in even more intense concern and Logan begin to speak, purely to inform Roman that his actions had been reckless and foolhardy.

Roman knew the teacher had no malicious intent, but still the words cut through him like glass. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the criticizing words. He knew he hadn’t been careful. He didn’t need to hear it all over again, especially from Lo—he cut himself off. He simply knew he didn’t want the creativity he had stifled again and again. 

Virgil seemed to understand, surveying Roman’s face and getting up to usher Logan out of the room. He offhandedly recited some reassuring words to the teacher, letting him know Roman would be in good hands. The teacher’s face relaxed slightly as he saw Roman let out an audible breath of air. From his place on the bed, he could just barely see Logan smirking as he closed the door behind him.

Virgil said nothing, but avoided Roman’s eyes as he gingerly bandaged the prince’s wounds. Roman, still dazed with pain, watched mesmerized as the other Side’s fingers danced over his skin.

“So, Roman . . . how’d you get this scratched up?” Virgil chuckled lightly as he washed the other one’s injuries, taking extra care not to hurt him further. He was blinking quite a bit, worry etched on his face.

Roman felt his face heat up.

“I was . . . sparring with the Dragon Witch. Getting in some extra practice, you know.” The prince mumbled, trying to laugh it off. Virgil, however, kept pressing.

“Right, the Dragon Witch. I nearly had a heart attack when it came flying in here with you lying on its back.” Virgil exhaled, still noticeably avoiding Roman’s eyes.

“You looked so . . . dead.” The Side’s voice broke slightly on the last word, turning away from Roman, shoulders shaking lightly. The prince’s eyes widened.

“Virgil, listen—”

“No, Princey, you listen. We were all worried sick when the Dragon Witch brought you in here. I . . . I was worried too.” The side fidgeted with the ends of his jacket. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.” He was visibly choking up.

Roman tried to reach out to pat the other’s shoulder, but hesitated.

Abandoning all pretenses, Virgil suddenly grabbed Roman’s shoulders, forcing the prince to face him, his eyes decidedly wet.

“You need to be more careful,” he whispered.

Virgil let go of Roman’s shoulders, now beginning to pace the room, breathing quickening. The prince attempted to stand up, not sure what was happening.

“You can’t keep being this rash. Going and getting yourself killed isn’t going to help anyone!” Virgil’s volume was steadily increasing, causing the already-confused Roman to shrink back. 

Of course. It was more chastising, more scolding, more putting him down. He’d expect this from Logan, but from Virgil? It looked like his support was narrowing. And, like in all other cases of this, Roman let himself grow numb to the harsh words, painting on a nonchalant face.

“Thomas needs you, so you have to be more cautious!”

Virgil was close to shouting now. 

The prince flinched involuntarily, looking down. Then his gaze hardened again.

“It doesn’t look like he does, me being how I am.” Roman stated flatly, trying not to let any emotion creep into his voice.

Virgil stepped back, his eyes wide. Then he moved forward slowly again, his tone softening considerably. 

“Princey, you know that’s not true.” Virgil sighed. The prince was glaring vehemently at the other Side now.

“Is it, though?”

“Yes. It is.”

“Not based on how you and the others have been acting, I don’t.” This part was mumbled, the creative side deliberately avoiding eye contact.

Virgil stopped in his tracks. Then paused, and sidled up to Roman awkwardly.

“No, Princey.” The side was twisting his fingers together nervously. “We . . . I’m sorry.”

“It really hasn’t been looking like you are,” Roman choked out, fighting to keep his voice even.

Virgil kept playing with his fingers, looking nervous. Several times he opened his mouth to speak, only to apparently think better of it and close it. The next few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence, until Virgil decided to make the first move, moving towards the injured prince.

“I’m sorry, Princey,” he said forcefully.

Roman let out a breath. He struggled to sit up straighter for a few seconds, until Virgil put his arms around his and steadied him, both their faces faintly tinged with pink.

“Princey, I said I was sorry.”

The prince put his head in his hands. “It’s fine, Virgil. I’m fine.” The prince desperately battled against the lump in his throat, only to lose to it in a humiliating show of emotion.

Roman wasn’t particularly surprised. He always lost, didn’t he?

Virgil gazed at Roman’s sentimental display, his breath catching in his throat. In a moment of abandon, the side gently settled himself on the bed next to the prince.

“No, Princey. You’re not fine.” Virgil quietly placed his arms around the other side, clasping them together and leaning his head on the Roman’s shoulder.

Roman was shocked by the other’s spontaneous move of affection. The extra strain pushed him over the edge, breaking the dam that had held his poise in place for so long.

The prince resignedly looked away. Virgil didn’t need to see him like this, a blubbering mess of emotion and insecurity. He fought to control his breathing, now with tears openly streaming down his face.

But Virgil was undaunted by Roman’s cracked façade. He merely squeezed the prince tighter, whispering words of encouragement here and there. After a few agonizing minutes, Virgil lifted his head to speak.

“Princey. Roman.”

Roman glanced up, surprised, but Virgil pushed on.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me someday.”

Roman made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a growl. It was unrealistic. He’d been apologized to so many times before, all of them meaning the same thing.

But something made this time different.

Virgil stroked the other side’s hair as he spoke, sometimes stumbling over words, but making it there through squeezes of encouragement from Roman.

“You were right, Roman. We haven’t been treating you well. But Thomas still needs you, I promise.”

Virgil stopped for a moment, then tilted up Roman’s chin with his hand. Roman felt his face flush, meeting Virgil’s eyes to see that his face was doing something similar.

His eyes. When had they become so captivating? Roman was spellbound, lost in the deep, brilliant purple.

Virgil faltered for a second, gazing at Roman’s face. Then he spoke.

“Roman. You’re not anything less than the perfect prince.”

He blushed. Roman’s heart was in his throat. He opened his mouth to disagree, only to be lightly shushed by Virgil.

“You should know that. I mean . . . it’s true. You . . . you are perfect, just as you are right now. I mean, that’s not to say you weren’t perfect before, you always are. You know that right?” Virgil was rambling now, his face completely red. He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes.

But Roman was grinning. He reached around Virgil’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Yeah, I’m perfect. And you’re adorable, emo.” 

★  ★  ★

taglist: @letsjustdieeveryone​, @nayrs-thoughts-13​, @deanbean-soup​, @someoneiwasnt​, @the17thmeatball​

[adinosaurnamedmittens]

Alright so I can’t stop thinking of RVB Zero and how much potential it has so I wanna rework it a bit to work better.

So first I’m gonna talk about the new characters and what I’d change before breaking down the individual episodes for critique and suggested rewrites. At this point, I’ve only seen up to episode 4, Encounter. So spoilers till that ep. 

West - Honestly great! He doesn’t have a ton of character, but what he has is solid. He works very well as the gruff, no-nonsense leader who’s a tiny bit of a dad.

Raymond - Also great! He’s the most classic RVB character, as he’s an underdog who’s not the best at fighting, but has a lot of heart. My fav new character, right next to Tiny.

One - I want to change her to 2nd in command and drop the whole “can’t work within a team” thing. Keep the confidence and slight rudeness, but drop all the lines referencing anti-teamwork. It hasn’t factored into the story so far, One has been successfully working as part of the team for all the episodes. This would make her dynamic with Axel more interesting, being in a higher position of power. Especially considering how her healthy relationship with her dad contrasts with East and West’s relationship. This would reinforce the tension with East, since One now has an actual position of power over her. Also, she should have the exact same powers as Zero, but maybe less powerful. This would help foreshadow that reveal, and help us understand how the enhancements work. While One is a bit of a shit, and thinks she knows best, she’s willing to take the fall when her ideas fail or get them in trouble.

Axel - Imma be honest: totally forgot he was One’s adopted dad until I rewatched the episodes prepping for this. You could drop it totally, as it gets a bit redundant with West and East’s relationship, but I think there’s more fun in working with it. Also, if One’s 2nd in command and Axel isn’t insecure about it at all? Instantly makes him a more likable guy. I also think he parallels to Wash very well (bit of a kid at heart, weapons guy, team dad, emotional heart) so we’re gonna expand on that too.

East - Her and One’s relationship is the driving force of conflict within the strike team. With the changes made to One, East can stay pretty much unchanged. Before they were too similar. Now, with One being abrasive but willing to work together, and East being more reserved and distant, they’re great foils for each other. Also she parallels early Carolina, which I love (speed is her ability, prefers working alone, competitive as hell, dad runs team)

Villains: On characterization, they’re all good! Villains are allowed to be a bit more shallow, and they all seem to have understandable motives for what they’re doing: Zero wants revenge and power, Phase wants revenge especially against West, and Diesel just seems like he’s having fun. I do want to change Zero’s power tho, with Phase already having a teleport with a cool gimmick, and Diesel having a strength/tank ability, Zero should have a unique ability. Maybe gravity because of the sword? It would allow him some cool movement tricks while still being visually distinct from Diesel and Phase’s abilities. Or something inspired by his “ghost” line from Duo.

EP 1: Viper

The Good: The introduction to the villains and their abilities was amazing. I love Phase’s knife and it’s honestly one of the coolest things I’ve seen in the show. And the intro to the Strike team? Hilarious. Great character work. You can tell that One and Axel are close, that Raymond is hesitant and new, East and One have a very competitive relationship, and West is the tough love dad.

The Bad: Don’t violate the 180 camera rule. The intro fight scene was cool, but the camera moved way too much and made it hard to keep track of everything happening. And with the new, shiny art style we need a bit more time to absorb what’s happening since the detail level went up. Also y’all healed Wash’s brain damage with a throwaway line, and then immediately fridged him? Not cool. I mean, if you wanted to show how tough the villains are, you already had them beat up Carolina.

Story Changes: - Zero gets name dropped this ep so we get a scene next ep where Axel recognizes his name. - Either replace Wash with a high ranking soldier and completely scrub him from the episode, or give a different reason why he can’t help, maybe exactly Carolina’s reason of “you’re recovering”. I’m not committing to totally removing Wash bc in Recovery Carolina’s line of “That I-that we thought was a medium risk asset” hints that Wash knew exactly what they were carrying and I’m excited to see where they take that. - Mainly I want scenes of Wash talking to Axel and expanding on his characterization as they are both Nice Boys Who Have Been Through It. - I also think a scene after we meet Strike where Axel asks Raymond “You like riding with East?” and Ray goes “You two stuck me with her on purpose!” and One goes “Yup!” all cheerfully. Just reinforce those team dynamics and friendships before it goes to shit!

EP 2: Recovery

The Good: The garage scene was perfect. Tiny is amazing, love her so much! And Axel got such great characterization during this ep. What a dork. West and Raymond also work super well together, their interactions are great.

The Bad:You know it’s a problem when the villains have a better dynamic than the heroes. The scene where Carolina explains all the strike member’s abilities and personalities? Bad. Also a little OOC for her. And redundant, since we also get Raymond asking West about East, and Axel’s explanation of the girls to Carolina.

Story Changes: - Have Axel, the emotional heart, waiting outside the recovery room for Carolina. Honestly, this isn’t that big, but I think it’d suit his character. - Carolina’s exposition is changed to solely history and abilities, no commenting on their personalities. Maybe East gets a little “has shown difficulty in working with others” but that’s it. The physical acting for these scenes really shines through, so let it stand alone. Even watching without sound, you can pick up that West is a no-nonsense leader, that Axel isn’t a flashy fighter but gets the job done, that East is fairly young and doesn’t take fighting seriously, and that One is willing to leave others behind if she thinks she can do it better. - For Carolina’s convo with One this ep about her “not willing to work on a team” either swap One with East or change it to “you need to listen to your team more. Don’t assume that you immediately now what’s best” - At the end of training, when Axel says “the guards were priority #1″ One should say “I knew you could handle it.” and Axel could respond with “Well, it’d be nice if you let me know that.” to show that One can work well as 2nd in command, but needs to communicate and stop assuming things. -Also should change Axel’s warning line about her enhancements to “Don’t push yourself. Remember what happened last time?” to enforce that this is a habit, and that while he cares about her, he’s not trying to boss her around as much. -Don’t reveal that East is West’s daughter until Raymond and West talk. That way, there’s a bit more emotional weight, and Ray’s line of “I was digging through the team files” makes more sense if Carolina doesn’t drop that info in the previous scene. - When Axel talks about the experiments East went through, he should mention that he was there for some of them. Dropping more foreshadowing for the Axel/Zero reveal! - Carolina drops Zero’s name in their convo, and we get a shot of Axel’s hand tightening on his weapon, showing the audience that the name means something to him, but we don’t know why.

EP 3: Duo

The Good: First 3rd of the ep? Really good. I love One being rude to Carolina, and then gaining a grudging respect. West and Raymond are, again, the best dynamic. How? I honestly have no idea. The car looks so stupid in the funniest way, I hate it but I love it. Also god yes Axel and Zero’s relationship is so wholesome and could be the best thing in this season. One’s warning call to the facility? The funniest shit. And Zero’s dialogue is hella cliched, but it works bc he’s obv such a dramatic bitch.

The Bad: HOLY HELL THE DIALOGUE. First, One and East’s fight? garbage. Very forced. Super hard to believe these two are real people. Carolina and West literally repeat the exact same line, less than 5 seconds apart. The dishwasher joke West makes does NOT at all work, it’s too tonally dissonant.

Story Changes: - Obv. need to change One and East’s convo. End it with “Without your power, you wouldn’t even be on this team!” East should storm off or almost attack One, requiring Axel to diffuse. - It’d also be really nice to get a line where One acknowledges that she went too far with that, but puts off apologizing to East. It’d be a nod that she’s good at reflecting and assessing, but too proud to actually take her words back. - I’d like to make Raymond more panicked when they find Wash. It’d help sell that he’s in bad shape and add more weight to “He’s got a heartbeat!” - Maybe re-work Phase and Zero’s conversation a bit. The dialogue is definitely not this season’s strong suit. - Pull Carolina’s “I’m just trying to help, East.” since it’s more impactful for East to storm off immediately and West says the line a couple seconds later. And change East’s dialogue to “You may be my CO, but don’t try to be my dad. Not after what you’ve done.” Or something similar. - For the dishwasher gag in the meeting, either pull it or double down. It’d work so much better if someone asks “Are you serious about this? Aren’t there more important things to discuss?” and West just deadpans. “This is of the upmost importance. If we can’t keep this base clean, how can we be expected to do anything else?!” and then Carolina clears her throat super loud and West goes “...Right. Rookie? Take it from here.” - Rework the “Carolina stay behind” dialogue. Even just a “Carolina. You’re still recovering. If you get hurt again, it’ll just be longer till you can take these bastards down. Keep an eye on Wash, will you?” I just couldn’t get behind the wording of “we need you here. With wash” It sounds like every cliched “woman must stay behind while the manly men save everyone!” Might be personal preference but just ew. - Add a scene where One notices Axel being a bit off (bc he’s worried about Zero being a part of the bad guy team) and she asks if he’s okay. He brushes her off, says its nothing. She goes “alright, i trust you.” - Maybe make the flashback a bit more apparent? There was a moment in the middle where I questioned whether or not it was a flashback. Again, could be a me problem.

EP 4: Encounter

The Good: The fight scenes continue to be absolute standouts. The varied environments, the movement, the dynamics on point. Wish we could’ve saw a bit more from Axel, but as is the scene worked well. The framing of the ep was good too, cutting between the mission and the fallout. And Ray, resident coward, immediately squaring up without a thought after West got injured? *chef’s kiss*. THAT is good character development. THAT is an amazing way to establish their relationship without telling us outright. Go feral, my boy! And Tiny and Raymond’s convo was so cute. I love how, despite what he says, Ray is there for his team and always willing to help. Carolina and One’s convo was also pretty decent. It got a bit long and over-explainy on Carolina’s end, but there were some pretty good moments.

The Bad: The fight after the mission failure was SO over-acted. Too much motion, to many camera angles. It changed what should have been tense arguments to hilarious melodrama. This has been a consistent problem, but it REALLY affects this scene in particular. And the second Axel enters the scene it just immediately goes downhill.

Story Changes: - Add a line from West in the beginning scene like “I’ll cut them off!” to explain why he isn’t in the car too. This also means it’s not as out-of-nowhere when West shows up to trash the car. - One should call out Axel instead of East. If she’s his daughter, she should be able to tell when he’s acting off. And she would have an easier time connecting the dots between Axel and Zero. - Instead of “I trusted you.” One should say “You lied to me.” 1) He’s her dad. One lie isn’t gonna break her total trust. 2) This would imply it’s the first time he’s lied to her, adding more weight to the whole situation 3) It’s way more accusatory and less cliched (if only a bit) - Add in a “One, wait!” bc I am a sucker for it and we could hear the guilt in his voice, rather than the weird scene where the girls make him spin around by bumping into him. - It’d also be nice if Ray stayed back for a bit before leaving, so we got a bit of his feelings on the matter. I mean, obviously he cares a lot about West, but does he blame Axel for not being there to help? It’d be nice to know!

TL;DR The best parts of the episodes are the fight scenes, and when they focus on the fun team dynamics. The worst parts are dialogue (mostly the serious bits) and over-animating, as this takes away from the drama.

I don’t mind the cheesy villains, but that may not be the case for everyone.

The best part of RVB has always been the rag-tag found family dynamics. While the fight scenes are cool, they have always been supplemental to the real meat of the show. The writers are trying something new with the whole “actual family” but you have got to focus on and develop these relationships if you want fans to care.

Mostly, I see a lot of potential in these characters, but there are GLARING issues in this season that are holding them back.

[makeste]

not a cavalcade of Katsuki panels

damn, anon. you stone cold came for me with that last part. and just fyi to all onlookers, this was before I had posted the headcanons ask proving this exact point lmao.

but a challenge has been issued now! so I will do my best to pick a variety of impartial panels featuring a veritable medley of characters. not sure I can really provide much in the way of insightful analysis of symbolism and metaphors and stuff, but I can certainly type a lot of words about the pretty pictures, and about how cool people look when they’re standing around all serious surrounded by clouds of billowing smoke.

why I like it: I figured we’d start off strong. no point in holding back. can the other panels possibly even hope to compete. maybe. we’ll see.

why I like it: because, you see, he punched a giant robot, and it exploded. you see that, there? and the text was all “SMAASH” in humongous comic book letters, and it was pretty cool. also Deku is very tiny and the robot is very big. and just to clarify, most of the time if a tiny fifteen-year-old child tries to punch an 80-foot robot, it’s not actually going to go all that well, and the robot probably will not explode. but in this case it did! and so this is a very novel and unexpected outcome, which makes it all the more visually striking, which is a very good thing to be when you are trying to show off the brand new superpower which your protagonist just inherited, and letting people see it in action for the very first time.

why I like it: so you may have noticed we just skipped a whoooole bunch of chapters lol. this is because there are almost 300 of them, and so I’m going to have to use a bit of discretion. anyway so this is a gorgeous panel. just, everything about it. the lighting; the expressions; Shouto’s hesitation; and his mom facing away, not looking back yet, and us not yet knowing how she’ll react. and the fact that they’re visually separated by as much distance as possible -- at opposite ends of a two-page spread -- and yet they’re so close, closer than they’ve been in years. mm. anyway it’s pretty.

why I like it: first of all because there’s nothing like seeing a deserving character get punched in the fucking face, and few characters IMO have been as deserving as Stain. and second because this is Deku, showing up to save the day out of nowhere at the last minute, because excuse you, but he’s a motherfuckin’ hero. sorry to interrupt your evening plans of stabbing a kid while lecturing him about why, philosophically, he deserves to die. but I’ve got a package here for a Mister Stain. it’s from Mister Smaassh, with two A’s and three S’s.

why I like it: fyi, anon said nothing about a cavalcade of BakuDeku panels. you didn’t think I’d let that loophole go to waste, did you? but nonetheless I will try to restrain myself until we get to the second ground beta fight. anyway, I like this panel because All Might’s canonically 7′2″ self looks about twelve feet tall here, and he is just TOWERING over these two boys, who’ve been tasked with somehow outwitting him during this curiously sadistic final exam. and it’s just an interesting perspective, because we know they both look up to him, and here they are physically looking way, way up, up, up at him.

why I like it: now this is how you do a villain entrance. I love absolutely everything about this. the sheer scale of destruction, and the way he’s just sort of casually hanging out there in the middle of the panel almost dwarfed by all this dust and smoke and carnage, and yet is unquestionably the focus of the page. the way that you can’t actually see his face, not yet. not until the end of the chapter. the way the clouds are drifting so calmly and peacefully in the night sky in stark contrast to the horrific events that are about to take place on the ground. this panel gives me literal chills, especially when I think about All for One’s creepy theme music playing in the background.

why I like it: this panel is so iconic to me that it’s one of the first ones I immediately knew I had to go and find when I got this ask. this entire fight is perfection from start to finish, and there are other panels that are more artistically striking if I’m being honest (in particular, the ones where he’s half-transformed with his face perfectly split down the middle between Muscle Might and Skinny Steve). but there’s just something about his determination in this panel, though. something about the fire in his eyes, and the way he clenches his fist. “my heart is still the heart of the Symbol of Peace.” I remember being sooooo fucking anxious when his true form was revealed, wondering if this was it, if the people watching were going to turn on him, if he was going to lose both the fight and their faith. turns out I was wrong on both accounts. basically what I am trying to tell you guys is that this panel was and is still the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.

why I like it: because he’s just a frail old man doing what he can to protect the last flickering embers of the thing that enables him to fight on. there’s something so fucking desperate and yet so determined about this image. he knows it’s futile, but still he persists.

why I like it: damn it was hard to find a “you’re next” panel with just the right angle I like best. this is probably as close as it gets, but I kind of wish Deku was somehow visible in this image as well. but at any rate this is an amazing moment, and All Might is dramatic af for basically no reason but IT’S BADASS. “no I’m not going to actually look where I’m pointing. it’s cooler this way.” or was it because he wasn’t sure if he could keep the emotion off of his face if he actually turned and looked? in this moment of knowing that it was finally over for him, that he would never be the Symbol again, and knowing that he had no choice but to move on and entrust that burden to the next generation? damn.

why I like it: I... fucking... okay, here’s a fun fact. did you know that I still get emotional over this panel almost a full two years after reading it?? obviously a good 84% of it is the context -- All Might losing his power; Deku being forced to take up the mantle before he feels ready; All Might feeling responsible for him; and both of them being so desperately grateful to have each other in that moment. but don’t underestimate that remaining 16% either though! this is just an extremely well-drawn hug, on top of everything else. All Might pressing Deku’s head to his shoulder with his fingers laced in his hair is some mighty fine fiercely protective hug tropes there, you guys. and the way Deku is clinging to his shirt so tightly his knuckles have probably gone white?? while he cries?? while both of them cry? ON THE BEACH? WITH THE WAVES LAPPING SOFTLY AT THE SHORE IN THE PEACEFUL NIGHT AIR?? jesus fucking christ. this hug contains more emotions than I am capable of carrying inside me at once. I just sort of have to let them flow in and out little by little until they finally subside.

why I like it: you bet I skipped right from Kamino straight to Deku VS Kacchan Part 2. no regrets. anyway, so these two panels are an absolutely gorgeous one-two punch. so much has changed from the days when they were innocent little kids marching off into the woods to have adventures. they’ve changed. their relationship has changed. and yet, at the end of the day, Izuku is still willing to follow Katsuki even without being given any kind of explanation. and Katsuki still seeks out Izuku when he’s on the verge of having a spectacular emotional breakdown. because he doesn’t know who else to turn to. and because despite everything, there is trust there still, on some deep, fundamental level neither of them fully understands or knows how to acknowledge. anyway, so these two panels just give me a ton of feels all about the passage of time and how everything changes and how you can’t get back what’s lost, but also sometimes if you look deep enough you find that parts of it were never fully gone.

why I like it: because in a striking display of dramatic main character energy, these boys decided to stage their life-changing destiny-affirming rival fight on the coolest possible stage in the middle of the goddamn night. and then Katsuki made it even better by producing WAY MORE SMOKE than his attack by all rights should have produced! and then they went and crouched down all symmetrically so as to more poetically make intense eye contact at each other. I really like panels with smoke and/or dust clearing dramatically. there are like four more of them coming up on this list. what can I say. it’s cinematic.

why I like it: I actually had this one as my icon for a while. it’s rare imo to see an action panel that’s so balanced and has so much going on and is so clean and easy to read. both of their poses are so dynamic. I like the way the arc of Izuku’s kick is drawn, and I love the way you can clearly see that Katsuki propelled himself backwards with his quirk in order to dodge it. it’s just a really cool little panel that for me perfectly sums up the general feel of this fight, and its awesome choreography.

why I like it: actually you know what, before I go any further, let me skip ahead a bit and add three more panels with this same energy.

I just really, really love these rare moments when all differences between them are momentarily forgotten and they’re just two teenage boys caught up in the intense pressure of an awkward social situation. the one enemy neither of them is the least bit equipped to handle. anyways Horikoshi clearly enjoys it too because he seems to delight in drawing it over and over and over.

why I like it: because it’s more billowing smoke and dust. because it’s Endeavor, the guy we all swore we would never ever root for, and then 160 chapters later Horikoshi pulls this shit without an ounce of shame. because it’s All Might’s pose, but tweaked juuuuuust enough so that Enji can avoid copyright claims. because he knew that pose well enough to know which arm not to use. because Endeavor is a profoundly flawed human being, wholly incapable of filling the void All Might left behind. and yet he still tries. because it’s better than nothing, and because it’s all he can do. it’s the one thing he can do, his sole redeeming virtue. he tries. he doesn’t give up. anyway so yeah, Horikoshi didn’t have to take the single most unlikable person in the entire manga and give him the world’s most controversial and openly scorned redemption arc. but he did! and I think it’s one of the best things about this entire manga.

why I like it: because nothing in BnHA is just black and white!! it’s messy and layered and complex, just like in the real world. Shouto despised his dad for almost his entire life. with good reason! Enji was abusive and selfish and treated his son more like a prized possession than a person. we as readers are fully aware of all of this, and we sympathize with Shouto 100%, and that’s completely by design. Horikoshi is well aware of this. so for him to still give us this little moment, where Shouto is so relieved that Enji survived that he drops to the floor and presses his face against his hands in this little prayer gesture -- whatever you think it might mean -- is just so fucking powerful, and again speaks to his commitment to refusing to let anything in this series be completely clear-cut and unambiguous. I love that the characterization of Shouto and Natsu hating their dad exists side by side with the equally authentic characterization of them being terrified that they’re about to watch him die. because those two things aren’t contradictory! sometimes that’s just how it is. anyway so this is a beautiful moment of nuance that instantly adds so much to this relationship with just a single panel.

why I like it: for once the symbolism is so obvious that even I can’t fail to miss it! Izuku’s face half in light and half in shadow as he thinks about the power bestowed on him. “All for One’s power.” anyway so in my mind Izuku having AFO could not be any more fucking foreshadowed if he was wearing a freaking t-shirt with the Musketeers saying on it and the background was peppered with little Sistine Chapel-esque images of AFO giving his quirk to his brother lmao. but regardless of how it does end up playing out, this is nicely done.

why I like it: I wasn’t sure whether I should include this image, given that I just made a whole separate post about it a few days ago. but I just really like it, okay. this is one of the all-time great entrances in the series. Bakugou being perched on that pole for absolutely no reason other than to add visual interest. Todoroki’s hair blowing dramatically in the wind. Katsuki’s frayed pant hems and characteristically asymmetrical facial expression. the fact that you just know both of them spent the ride home with their faces pressed to the windows of their taxi cab hoping desperately for an opportunity to break in their brand new licenses, and then lo and behold. that’s amazing you guys. it’s almost like you’re main characters or something.

why I like it: they did great.

why I like it: because I lost my fucking shit at this fucking reveal and can you even blame me?? we knew coming in how much trouble Endeavor and Hawks had dealing with just one of these Noumus, and then Horikoshi goes and divulges that the villains have at least A DOZEN MORE waiting on standby. including Hood right there in the foreground, which is a fantastic touch! this panel, for me, almost instantaneously established the League as a legitimate threat once again, and gave me the kind of spine-tingly evil vibes I hadn’t felt since the Kamino arc. and while the payoff might not quite have lived up to my expectations, the Mirko fight at least was more than worth it.

why I like it: BILLOWING SMOKE AND DUST CLOUDS. you just see this vast landscape of destruction that Tomura has oh-so-casually wrought, and this once-powerful enemy utterly defeated on his hands and knees bowing before him. and it’s just like, oh. Tomura just became a fucking king, didn’t he. he finally stepped up and became the main villain. really the main villain, not just an awkward fumbling NEET whose adopted dad is not-so-secretly pulling all the strings. he did this himself. he went out and conquered and Awakened and won himself a fucking army. and he’s just standing there so cool and casual in the aftermath of it all. and then he goes “oh wait, you guys have money right, that means you can buy us the good sushi.” yes, Tomura. yes.

why I like it: um because this panel is fucking amazing?? hello?? do I really need to explain this one. the detail is jaw-dropping. he’s got the little scars which are either from the head wound that caused his death, or from his Noumufication. his expression is fucking heartbreaking, and the transition from Kumo to Kuro is so subtle and seamless, and yet it distinctly is both of them. this panel is gorgeous and fucking haunting and almost made me gasp when I first saw it.

why I like it: the decision to have the night sky take up so much of the space in the panel was [chef kiss]. nothing says existential like the night sky on a cold winter’s night.

why I like it: this is the best panel in the entire fucking series.

why I like it: dude. showing his actual family holding onto him with their hands in the same spot as the severed fashion!hands was a stroke of genius in and of itself. but combining that with the emotional tension of them desperately trying to hold him back and protect him from AFO?? that’s just so fucking smooth it’s almost inhuman. just how much meaning can you cram into a single image?? sometimes I wonder just how far in advance Horikoshi plans these things.

why I like it: guess I’m just a big fat sucker for panels of Tomura calmly standing around in the ruins of his own senseless destruction. the sense of scale on this one is really great, too. and yet again, those dust clouds. gotta love it.

why I like it: because Tomura literally appears out of nowhere, like he’s ripping a hole through the fabric of time and space. it’s so fucking sudden and he looks evil as FUCK, and Deku and Kacchan are totally caught off-guard, and it is scary. this is one of those panels that made me say “holy shit” out loud. in fact I practically screamed it. and the angles are all funky and weird, and the sky is all BLACK FOR NO REASON, and it really just feels like Tomura could reach right over and just MURDER THEM like it was nothing. just like that. this panel is so incredibly effective at conveying how hopelessly outclassed the boys are. they’re not even in his league, and it’s honestly terrifying.

and on that happy note, we have come to the end of my list of favorite panels! and I gotta say, it’s really gratifying that a good deal of them are from this year alone. I said it in another post a few days ago, but imo the overall quality of the series has been insanely high as of late, and it honestly just blows my mind whenever I stop to think about it. the art is still this good six years into the game. the story is still this good. we are spoiled goddammit.

[wavesmp3]

directors cut: oasis

[doing this entirely for myself, out of pure self indulgence lol] [this will be very messy/poorly organized and there will be spoilers]

okay so where to even begin omg..... we will start with the origins of oasis:

its actually, techinically a spin off of the world from this drabble with dino from svt. which the world in this drabble is what the world from oasis would look like very far in the future. but i changed a lot between writing that drabble and creating oasis. but there should be a scene in the drabble that is very similar to a part in oasis (hint: the first vision they got from saskila was not just a random vision with no meaning.......hehe)

but that drabble (its titled dreamscapes) was inspired by a mix of this post on tumblr about how nuclear waste warning signs sounded very cool and the book that i was reading called the children of blood and bone by tomi adeyemi

and then after i had made that drabble i saw dee’s (@/atbzkingdom’s) post about the time capsule collab, and i had a couple ideas of what i could do for it but i ultimately decided on what would eventually become oasis !! so i guess we really have dee and that collab to thank for this piece lol

now for the timeline of me writing:

so i started outlining this piece in the first couple days of january, and normally outlines take me a while to come up with just because i struggle in coming up with plot, but i knew that my spring semester of classes would be starting soon and that I didn’t have a lot of time so i just sort of grinded an outline out as well several paragraphs of pure worldbuilding. 

and then i started writing

and wow i was Really writing!! at my peak productivity i was easily getting down like 2k a day which for me is insane (for reference, i wrote 1k a day for tsiytt and i struggled my way through that) 

but then life happens classes had begun and my writing for oasis slowly become nothing... 

i really only found the time to work on the piece every other weekend, so i was really nervous that i wouldn’t finish in time (which technically i didn’t cause it was supposed to come out march 1st) but luckily i did

and at some point in february, i had lost so much of my momentum and motivation for this piece that i almost gave up on it. (at this point i was writing the scenes after they find the seat of wisdom destroyed) but again luckily i did not, but i personally can definitely see a decline in the quality of my writing towards the end (i mean maybe its in my head, but its sort of like i can see the loss of love for the wip in my writing at the end of it)

but don’t misunderstand, i still love oasis!! and in all honesty, i’m already considering starting a second draft to it, which is way sooner than i thought i would lol

also when i started writing this piece, i began writing it in the order that it would be read, but then halfway i switched to writing chronologically

anyways, something i learned while writing this piece, is that writing is a marathon. whereas, even with my longer pieces, i always viewed writing as a sprint. so as i start venturing into original works and more lengthy pieces of writing, i think this was a very valuable lesson for me to have learned.

okay now to the good stuff lol: [the first word of the bullet about the next chapter (?) is bolded for some crumbs of an organized commentary]

so this is jumping to the first past bit... but when i first wrote farah i had a very different plan for her character than who she ended up being. i had imagined that she’d be a lot more cold and a tough love sort of person. so that’s who i was writing when she’s first introduced in the flashback, but she very quickly become a much kinder full of love sort of person. but anyways i mention this because whenever i read that first part and the introduction of her character, i’m always a bit taken aback by how like mean here character is to crown then lol

also zoar !!!! its a terrible place, but i love that underground city

i also wrote the first flashback after i had written the scene where crown and chanhee are talking at his place in andhor, so the whole “fearless” connection was done very purposefully here since i knew how it’d be referenced in the next scene. someone mentioned this small connection in their reblog but i cant remember who 

also rashi is my favorite character xD

i personally think how crown and chanhee became friends (the running thing) is so cute 

this first bit of conversation between crown and chanhee when it switches back to the present and chanhee is giving them a tour of andhor is actually quite important to me, in the sense that its the first glimpse of how their actual relationship works and how they act together and just like their dynamic despite the fact that they havent seen each other in so long 

and yeah i think kyu mentioned this and a few others, but i love how awkward it is when chanhee and crown are in his home in andhor, cause one: they havent seen each other in years! but also: anyone else find going to someone’s place for the first time oddly intimate, like wow you’re opening up your home to me and now suddenly idk how to sit or stand or what to do with my arms... maybe just me LMAO

DUDE i struggled so hard with making it so that chanhee knew how impossible this whole mission was going to be without actually revealing that he knows about the mirror. it was so hard for me, hopefully it came out alright though. if anyone is reading this, did the twist(s) come as a shock to you? did you see it coming? or did it feel like it came out of absolutely no where and not in a good way?

yes i did name the desert after the department store kohls .....

i was so excited to explain all the mage types, i had so much fun writing this whole chapter 

fun fact: there was originally another sub group of psyche mages called dream mages who had like powers with dreams and stuff, but it ended up being irrelevant and really underdeveloped so it took it out

if anyone else was raised catholic or is catholic then i’d hope you recognize the names of all the relics.... i stole them from a prayer in the rosary whoops

it took me very long time to figure out exactly how the whole soul for the relic business would work, and idk if im a 100% satisfied with what it is/how it works/how it plays into rashi giving chanhee the locket

the note new gives crown.... the first slice of their friendship blooming, bro i eat that shit up 

this part where crown and rashi are talking after the lesson is actually one of my favorites. (like i said i love rashi, but i just really love her interreacting with crown, i think they have such an interesting dynamic and one that i’ve seen irl a lot between students and teachers, where the student adores the teacher... i’ll get more into this later) but moving on, i like it for a number of reasons. one: it’s the first time we as readers get to see rashi talk outside of her role as lesson master. two: i love crown getting this validation from rashi. it’s not really expanded on a lot, but crown’s magic is definitely a bit of an insecurity for them, in the way that they don’t feel like it belongs to them. but here rashi comes, this person that crown looks up to so much, and telling crown that they’re a bit similar when it comes to having magic. and surprising crown by comforting them. and... idk i just really love this moment for crown.

okay this line: “You call your mom Rashi?” is a lowkey reference to game plan,, if anyone knows what i’m talking about then please come clown me for nearly having the entire movie memorized 

oh, i also find the capital really cool. in my head the capital was always one huge building that contains an entire city but i realized while editing that i never really explained that, so idk if i successfully described the capital as cool as it is to me 

also the five friends part.....CUTE

when chanhee says “i know. i remember.” !!! girl i felt that line with my entire chest. idk why

okay wait this part: “But that knowledge seems to fall flat right now. Because despite everything, curiosity won the war.” i love it so much, its that tiny of sliver of hope that gets me personally

i think this part where crown’s pride is so hurt by no one telling them about chanhee’s healing magic is quite important because its a glimpse of how stubborn and prideful and headstrong of a character they can be 

also this : “ ‘and do you believe everything rashi says’ / without hesitation, you answer, ‘yes, of course’ “ this is another example of how highly crown thinks of rashi while growing up, almost to a fault. to the point where crown thought rashi could do no wrong. which i think is so interesting to think about when contrasted with the fight crown and chanhee have in the jungle where crown is the one discussing how rashi was wrong. i just like how much growth crown has had between all these years. and their opinion / perspective on rashi is one of the largest indicators of that growth. 

I also just really like that paragraph where shadow vs healing is explained... I think chanhee’s magic is so sick

oh also the names thing.... I can’t remember where I got the idea to do that from but im so glad I did. its one of my favorite aspects to this world, and it looks like a lot of other people enjoyed it as well. but apart from the intimacy of it, i love how the use of names affects one’s magic. and that paragraph where they go through all that a mage could do with a name. it gives me chills. just cause.... the possibilities

so many people have mentioned this line.... but I must too, so this part: “magic always comes with a price. this is new’s” ..... crazy

saskila scares me omg

again the first vision they see is not a random scene.... the easter eggs I planted with that mwahaha

yeah that scene where they’re outside the tent discussing who should give their name to saskila..... I love that scene chanhee’s “I don’t have anyone but you” and crown deflecting all that tension with the pinky promise and the saskila calling them lovers.... mwah

this random scene about the hot summer and laying with Farah and new in the gardens is another one of my favorite, it’s just so sweet

but this next scene makes me so sad

like I know what happens and I know that everything turns out okay but I get so scared for crown

yeah just that entire part after Rashi gets to them and when they’re going to the infirmary and before crown passes out... I love that whole part. i think i did an effective job of writing the gravity of that whole moment. cause it makes me a little stunned every time I read it. and I was pretty nervous about not being able to do that scene and that moment justice so I’m glad it turned out like it did

and again this line: magic always comes with a price, and in your case, it comes with several.

okay this part after they jump out of the ship and crown is talking to Chanhee but that other dude is talking too... I hope it’s not too confusing. I really wanted to show through the writing that this was all happening at the same time, but idk it came out well. like in my mind I have such a clear picture of this scene, but I have no clue if I did effective job of showing you guys what I’m seeing through the writing

oh yeah, crowns thing about dual wielding and engulfing the blades in flames.... I find that so cool. they’re so sick for that

yeah also the part where crowns hurt and they give Chanhee their name and they use it.... great moment, but I feel like my writing is a bit lacking here. i just know it could be better.

I think at this point of writing my classes had started, and again the disparity in writing quality is so obvious to me 

but the line where chanhee is describing how it all feels, and it says “chanhee feels golden” was inspired by daylight by taylor swift, theres a line in that song that goes “i used to think love would be burning red, but its golden” and like hello the parallels between that and crown’s fire magic.... something to think about 

so this next part where it’s back to the past and crown is getting in trouble (as crown does) but the part where crown is like asking but not directly asking for rashi’s name.... that part is so crazy to me cause it’s feels so out of place. but it was purposeful. i was trying to show that crown’s growing and that they’re at this weird age where they feel invincible. and also i wanted to put more emphasis on how being royal and the heir to the throne kind of effects the relationships crown has

and the last line of this part when rashi says “never abuse it” it gives me chills whew

the next part ... another part that i had high hopes for in the outlining stages of writing, but when it came to actually writing, this scene totally flopped, i’m gonna try not to dwell on this part too much cause i just know most of my comments will be about how much i don’t like it. but just overall, this scene could have been SO MUCH BETTER !

omg this little interaction: ““Look!” Chanhee deadpans, shooting you a glare. “The match is about to begin.” / “Wish me luck.” /  “I hope you lose.”” i think its so funny and cute

“ Your eyes immediately got to Rashi “ another example of how highly crown regards rashi 

“In Wurltan.” hmmmmmm sus.... *laughs in i love mentioning things that won’t make sense to reader until later*

okay this: “Yes, but not just any mage. I…” your voice trails off, pulling at your fingers and looking anywhere but at him. “I wanted you to know.” i cannot stand these two omg 

okay this part: “Chanhee thinks and overthinks the words spoken between you both. His mind drifts off to last night as well, that moment in the tent where you shared your warmth. He doesn’t even realize he’s staring at you until you give him a funny look. He quickly looks away and wonders if you’re overthinking everything as relentlessly as he is.” this part makes me think about what ina said about how chanhee shows his love by keeping you in his thoughts and YEAH chanhee’s love language in this piece is thinking about you and staring LOL

i hate this next part, not cause i don’t like it or anything it just makes me sad 

but this line: “Like if someone shoved you from behind right now, you wouldn’t push back; you’d let yourself fall straight to the ground.” i actually love that line

also this next entire bit i see SO clearly in mind, i hope i wrote it well enough so that you all saw it clearly too

when chanhee wipes the dirt.... girl i’m wiping my tears 

this line : “We’ll lean on each other.” mini love declaration sighhhhhh

yeah that whole part i love so much 

the seat of wisdom :(((( no!!!!!

so about this line: “He stares at his palms, at all the lies buried under each nail and at all the secrets shoved in every crack. He watches as they all blow up in front of his face.” >> i had like ten different versions of it before i settled on this one lol

okay so the first part of the last past flashback with crown realizing their true feelings... so soft 

news gone, rashis’s dead, :((( it makes me so sad

gosh okay this paragraph..... “I’ve always wondered why the gods blessed me and you the way that they have. They entrusted you with such great power. The only person to be both a healing and shadow mage in centuries. And then,” a tear falls from her eye, “they entrusted you to me.” Chanhee thinks this might be the first time he’s seen Rashi cry. “But now I have reason to believe that this was no accident. I’m beginning to think that the gods have always known it would come to this. And I’m starting,” she falters there, “I’m starting to spite them for it.”  it hurts so bad im sorry 

the first confrontation with harlan took me so long to write, and i’m still not sure if i actually like it, so again i will refrain from commenting lol

but the part where crown screams : “YOU LOST THE MIRROR OF JUSTICE!”  I think i told kyu this but this line makes me laugh because in my head its said the same way bella says: “you nicknamed my daughter after the lochness monster” whenever i see that line i smile lol

honestly this argument scene..... one of my absolute faves,,, everything lina said about it in that reblog just yes!yes!yes!! i can’t even comment about a particular part because all of it i love so much. its another part that leaves me slightly speechless.

but my favorite part of it might be how it ends hehe

these next couple parts were a bit diffucult to write because obviously the air between crown and chanhee is not very light right now so it was just hard to navigate their dynamic at these moments until they apologize but hopefully it turned out alright

i really like this line: “But this moment—with the scent of Harlan’s wine under his nose and the chill of Harlan’s blade against his neck—this moment feels nothing like those. It feels empty.” 

“ Chanhee just stares at you.“ -- staring as a love language exhibit b 

this whole part... chills bro 

“Chanhee exhales because for the first time since this afternoon he looks at your face and sees you.” -- exhibit c ....

okay wait another one of my favorite parts here: the spilled glass metaphor!! again please reference lina’s rb on this because everything said there... could not have said better myself. inspired by this writing advice by ocean vuong and yeah i just think the metaphor speaks for itself, one of my favorite lines (well paragraph) from the entire piece, actually from ALL of my works 

it was so hard to think up all of yumi’s different names, i was struggling

them talking about how farah will be happy to see chanhee...... how do i break it to you crown.....she’s dead...... awkward

red streak q! yesss. also i’m so sorry for killing off farah 

also kyunyu bestiessss

tbh this whole paragraph: “I get this overwhelming burst of honesty. As if what you both speak of is more than just a simple truth, as if it’s a commandant you blindly follow. What’s even odder is that I only feel that burst when you speak of each other.” Q stops walking and turns so that he faces Chanhee directly. “You speak of Crown constantly. And last night, when I met Crown, your title never left from the tip of their tongue. Humans are so simple really. We mention what we love.” Q pauses for a moment, bringing a hand under his chin. “Do you love Crown?” --i wrote it for myself no regrets

oh wait this bit too : “Quietly, Chanhee says, “I know.” / “Have you been watching?” / “I’ve been waiting.” / “For what?” / He meets your eyes. “For you.”” -- sometimes i do things that live rent free in my own mind

okay im so sorry for just quoting myself but this too : “ He sits back slightly. Shocked. Not by his love for you, but rather by how easily love walked into his heart and settled between his lungs “

lol the part where they try fooling q... why are crown and chanhee like this

the running !!!

yeah also every part after that... tears okay

yumi’s magic !!! its so cool to me, i love it so much 

i surprisingly don’t have much to say about the end... i mean i like it, but i just don’t have any comments. the last line tho... good one shawna

okay im done for you sake i hope no one read this lmao 

[ruewrites]

We’re Blooming Together Chapter 3: Eyes

AO3

Ships: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 3023

Warnings: None

Chapter 1-Chapter 2-Chapter 3-Chapter 4-Chapter 5-Chapter 6-Chapter 7-Chapter 8-Chapter 9-Chapter 10-Chapter 11-Chapter 12

“I thought you said you were going to focus on yourself for a while.”

“I am … But they could also be cute, you know? Now stop moving before I stab you with the pin.”

All Asmo had to do was make a few adjustments so his latest assignment actually fit Solomon before making his judgement. If it didn’t fit him just the way he wanted it to, it would look bad if not every little last detail was perfectly in place. Not to mention, the colors looked good on Solomon. Long black jacket that flared down to his knees, with dark blue snakes hiding in the fabric. They were almost invisible until the light hit the sequence just right. Underneath was a white a light grey shirt with golden trim on the collar which bled into dark grey pants. They flared out at the bottom just a bit and also had the same gold trim.  Dark and mysterious, a perfect contrast to his person. The blue of the snakes almost matched the specks of blue in his grey eyes.

“I mean note writing is a little ‘high school’ I guess, but it never happened to me before… So I think it’s kind of cute. Plus it’s very well done, much better than anything any of our old classmates could have pulled off,” Asmo sighed, adjusting the cuff of the slacks. He’d gotten a few more letters since the first, some had even included little gifts. Each one had made him bubble up with joy.

“Have you told any of your brothers?” Solomon asked, looking down at Asmodeus.

“ Hell no . While I’d love to go on and on about it, the others wouldn’t let it go , and you know how protective Luci can be.”

Lucifer had been thrown into a parental role earlier than he should have been (honestly he shouldn’t have had to do it at all), but he’d done a fairly good job from what Asmo remembered. Of course they’d had guardians, but Lucifer always tried his best for all of them. He’s also been fairly protective over all of them. Asmo could still remember how he had reacted with his first break up,or the time a group of guys had ganged up on  Mammon and Levi after school. Neither situation had ended well for their offenders. Nothing really changed much. The only difference now was that Lucifer was a big, fancy, successful lawyer. While Lucifer was smart in his own regards, it also helped that he’d just so happened to make friends with Diavolo during his studies, a man born into money and power. Diavolo adored Asmo’s dear older brother, and wanted to see him succeed in life. Despite Lucifer’s many protests, Diavolo had poured a lot into Lucifer’s law firm and helped him make Morning-Star&Dev ílle the successful and glorious firm it was today. Long story short, people used to be scared of messing with any of the younger Morning-Stars, now they were absolutely terrified .

Asmo stood and walked around Solomon once more. Everything seemed to be marked properly for him to sew later so he brought Solomon over to the mirror. He let out a low whistle.

“I like this one,” Solomon grinned, gently tugging on the long dark jacket, “And Mammon really wouldn’t model this for you?”

“Not without pay no. He doesn’t do ‘free gigs’.”

More like he didn’t have time for them. Mammon was broke every other week. Asmo didn’t really know how he could do it, so he spent most of his time in the studio to make as much as he could. Asmo had tagged along with him to the studio once, mainly so he could talk to some of the designers. However, he would say that Mammon made a pretty good model.

Even so, he liked having Solomon as his model, and he wouldn’t have to redo measurements often. Plus, Solomon looked good in everything he made. It could be because he had a tiny thing for him, or that he was his type, but whatever. He had an attractive model who he also got along with, and that was important.

“You knoooow, you could always come along with me. I’d make you my own personal model, then I could make you clothes all the time,” Asmo hummed, peaking over his shoulder, “Mr. Author and or professor Solomon would always have a snazzy new  suit for every day of the week, or outfit of your choosing. I’m not picky with what I make.”

He caught Solomon’s smirk in the mirror, damn he was attractive . He always got this little twinkle in his eyes whenever he smirked, it was so mischievous. When had he started doing that? When had that shy little boy on the playground become this man before him?

“Perhaps. I’ll think about it.”

Asmodeus hummed for a moment before pulling his bangs back slightly, there it was. That was a nice look. “Oooh you should pull your hair back when you model for my class! Or do it more anyways, that way people can see more of that handsome face of yours!” he said. Or so he could see more of that handsome face of his.

Solomon chuckled and shook his head, pulling Asmodeus’ hand away and brushed his bangs back into place. “I don’t know, I kind of like my hair the way it is. I’ll leave the fancy stuff to you Asmodeus.”

“Pulling your hair back is hardly considered fancy, dear Solomon.”

Something was still missing… Asmo circled Solomon a few more times. What was it? He stared at the breast pocket for just a moment before snapping, “Got it!” Going over to his dresser, he plucked one of the fake flowers from its place. The yellow perennial added a nice splash of color to the outfit and stood out nicely against the dark fabric and matched the golden trim, even if it hadn’t been one of the fully bloomed ones. “Now it’s perfect .”

Solomon adjusted the collar just a bit, eyes fixed on the flower in his pocket. One arm was crossed over his abdomen and the other near his chin, one finger underneath his lip. Slowly he nodded.

Why did he have to be so wonderful ?

Asmo pushed those thoughts away.

“If you think it looks good, I trust you,” Solomon smiled, “After all, you’re the designer here, not me.”

“Good! Now take it off so I can adjust it. I still need to try a few ideas for your face until I’m done with you.”

******

A familiar meow greeted Asmo as he entered the cafe. One of the many residents greeted him happily looking for chin scratches and other affections from him. Few people were here at this hour, and honestly that was for the best. After all, he didn’t want people to overhear his little gossip sessions with Satan. Visiting his brother on break was always fun. He’d get to hear countless stories of odd customers that came in that day and Asmo could tell him about some of the latest gossip on his campus.

“All I’m saying is this, the next kid that pulls one of my cats’ tails is gettin drop kicked out the door,” Satan growled, “I don’t care if he’s six Susan, do your fuckin job as a mom and teach him to not hurt my cats. ”

Asmo nodded along with his brother’s words as one of the tabby’s pressed her head into his palm. “ Children. Surely we weren’t bad when we were that age.”

“Lucifer might beg to differ.”

Asmo flicked the paper wrapper from his straw at him, and Satan snorted, “Well he would .”

“Hush. Luci basically raised us, you know he loves us.”

Satan mumbled a bit and rolled his eyes.

“Anyways,” Asmo continued, “Wanna know my latest thing while there’s no eavesdropping brothers?”

Satan leaned over the table to meet Asmo half way, a smirk on his face. “Any dirt on dear older brother? Or did something happen on campus? Some stupid freshie do dumb shit at the latest frat party?”

That was when Asmodeus hesitated for a moment. Should he tell him? He could always pull something else out to tell him. It wouldn’t be that hard. After all, he knew all of the latest news on campus, he could think of something he hadn’t told Satan yet. No. He could trust Satan. Satan could keep a secret. Even if he couldn’t, Lucifer would be the last person he’d tell. Lucifer was the one he was worried about finding out.  He would worry. He’d think the worst.

Not that he blamed him. Lucifer had heard more than enough horror stories from clients to last him five lifetimes over. He knew what the world could be like.  He had to face it almost every day he walked in. Asmo just preferred to ignore those parts. Worrying too much could cause wrinkles, and that was one thing that Asmo never wanted to happen to him. Besides, they’d all been fine up to this point and they would continue to be fine.

The letters spread across the table and Satan raised a brow. Asmo slowly opened them and even placed some of the tinier gifts on the table. “ Read them ,” he said, “Satan they’re so wonderful . So beautifully written! I’ve been finding them in my things. My bag, my laptop, my textbooks, my desks, my makeup bag- Oh it’s so romantic and secretive .”

Satan opened one of the letters slowly, eyes scanning over the words slowly, processing what this was. Asmo held his breath, eyes trained on his brother. Oh he could wait to hear Satan’s thoughts. Of course talking to Solomon had been fun, but Solomon was more of a listener. Solomon was a good listener. Those beautiful grey eyes trained on him, nodding to let him know he was listening. He also never interrupted, which was nice. He always listened to him, no matter what. And those eyes…

“Well, their penmanship is certainly impressive.”

“ Satan. Is that really all you have to say?” Asmo couldn’t hide the exasperation in his voice, “This is romance . You know, like you have in some of the books you have in that mountain of a bookshelf? And all you can comment on is the handwriting? ”

“Well it is rather exceptional,” Satan shrugged, “And you don’t have a clue who it could be?”

Asmo had fantasies about who it could be, but as far as clues went-

“Nope! Not in the slightest. All I know is that they say such wonderful things, and they sound like they absolutely adore me!” he sighed, “They even used my favorite color for the letter. I can only imagine how sweet they are, or how wonderful they might be.”

“Or they could be a complete psychopath.”

“ Shut up . This is my fantasy and you’re about to be uninvited.”

Concern crossed Satan’s face, and Asmo could already feel himself starting to suppress a groan. “I’m just being rational. It could happen. There’s plenty of weirdos out there who’d do anything to get what they want you know.”

Of course Asmo knew, but that wasn’t the case here. It couldn’t be the case here.

Right?

“You’re starting to sound like Lucifer.”

“Please, don’t insult me like that,” Satan let out a sigh and looked out the window of the cafe, “I don’t want that to be the case. You’ve only been getting these on campus?”

“ Yes. Unfortunately they don’t follow me wherever I go. It’s not like one’s going to magically pop up while we’re sitting here in the cafe. Besides, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself if something does happen. They probably just look at my accounts. It’s not hard to find my favorite color.”

He wasn’t helpless, and he certainly wasn’t stupid. He was allowed to enjoy this.

“Perhaps,” Satan couldn’t shake all  of the concern in his eyes, but he could get rid of most of it, “Although, I may have to have a talk with them if they ever choose to reveal themselves. While they’re writing is good , I’d love to help them work on their  descriptions.”

“Satan.”

“It’s cute in a sense, but there are certainly more romantic things that could be said if that’s what they were going for.”

“ Satan .”

“For example, they could have put more of an emphasis on your eyes-”

Asmo groaned and slumped over onto the table, “Satan I don’t want you giving my precious Secret an entire lesson. Knowing my luck you’ll scare them away.”

He heard Satan chuckle and felt him ruffle his hair. Asmo’s eyes peaked up from his arms so he could glare at his brother, but only for a moment. “You know the rule for partners. They get brought in, we get to embarrass whoever brought them in.”

Asmo grumbled out a quiet “yeah yeah I know ” before sitting back up straight. The future for him and Secret would be unforgiving when it came to his brothers, but he didn’t have to cross that bridge yet. Maybe he’d be able to find a way to save both of them from their cruel fate, or more accurately, maybe Asmo could save himself from the cruel fate of being embarrassed in front of his precious Secret.

“You’re all so cruel. You know that right?” Asmo huffed, “Here I am, searching for the love of my life, and all any of you can think of doing is whipping out old stories or teasing me until I turn red. The nerve of you.”

“Everyone gets the same treatment Asmo.”

“I know, but still,” Asmo smoothed his hair back over and let out a sigh, “Couldn’t you let it slide just this once? Please ? They could be the one.” He put on his best puppy dog eyes and batted his lashes for extra measure. For a few moments. One. Then two. Then-

Satan burst out into laughter, “Nah. Nope. Sorry Asmo. If the rest of us have to suffer so do you. Not to mention all of your partners, in your own words, ‘could have been the one’. I’m starting to think that you say that more than you realize.”

That’s because each time he honestly believed it.

“Oh whatever. In any case, this stays between us okay? No one else knows. Especially not Lucifer.” Asmo’s voice was stern. Satan had to know he wasn’t joking around now. He knew what mode Lucifer would jump into if he figured out what was happening, and Asmo couldn’t have that. He didn’t want Secret to be scared off by him. If Secret truly did care about him like they wrote about, Asmo wanted them to stick around for a while….

Satan nodded, “Asmo, you know me. Anything spoken between our exclusive circle stays between us. Lucifer isn’t going to find out. Not until you want him to anyways.” He refolded the letters and pushed them back towards his brother. It was their little secret.

Asmo smiled and took the letters back carefully. “I have a new one to read tonight. I can tell you what it says tomorrow.”

“Oh? You didn’t bring it with you?”

“I’d like the first read through of a first letter to be reserved for my eyes only.”

It made the moment more intimate that way. It was special. Every new letter he opened felt like a warm embrace from his Secret. He bet their embrace felt even more wonderful than he imagined.

“Now, care to tell me about some more of your horror stories?”

*******

To the keeper of my heart,

Where do I even begin when it comes to you?

Some days I fear that my words may fall short

Or that there will be no words left to describe you properly.

What will I do then?

Perhaps I would have to come out from hiding

Hold you close

Never let you go

And recite all of the wonderful mysteries about you.

I love when you get excited about your passions.

Your eyes sparkle and outshine all of the stars in the sky

Your lips curl up in the most perfect of arcs

You voice lilts and picks up ever so slightly.

I’ve never known a more passionate person than you.

Never let anyone take away the life in your eyes.

Think of Me,

Your Secret

Asmo had read the letter three times over. Each time his eyes scanned over the words his heart skipped a beat. Of course he wasn’t new to compliments, he’d received so many over the years. People stared at him, People wanted him. Sure maybe it was a little narcissistic, but why deny it if he knew it to be true? Despite all of that, people rarely went into detail about what they loved about him. He’d had partners brag about how hot or cute he was, but many had also made him feel self conscious. He still remembered the disappointment that flickered behind an old boyfriend’s eyes the one time he had decided to “dress down” one day when he stayed over. The dismissive tone in his voice… Even though Asmo thought he’d looked cute…

Things like that stick with you.

Would Secret still love him if he dropped below the bar one day?

He didn’t want to find out…

Asmo placed the letter on his nightstand, and curled up under his covers. He certainly did think of Secret every night. He tried to create a picture of them in his head. He imagined their voice, how wonderful their embrace would feel, how absolutely perfect they would be. They truly adored him. How could Asmo not think of them? As he drifted off, his mind once again wadered to Solomon. Even if it wasn’t possible, thinking about it couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like he was going to actually start falling for his childhood crush again. He was still allowed to think he was cute. Plenty of people were cute, that didn’t mean that he’d fall for every cute person he saw.

Once again, Asmo found himself dreaming of his best friend and his beautiful eyes.