#i should have broken up with him. not right away but i should have after spring break
Note
Hiii love your writingggg, could you plsss do very innocent!reader and pervy!ethan 🫶🏻
Hiii! I hope you like it, even though you requested this MONTHS ago.
I'm not innocent, so I'm not the best at writing it🙃 Hopefully this is okay:)
Creep - Pervy!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You ask Ethan for help in econ, and once Mindy mentions the empty bedroom in the apartment she shares with Ethan and Chad, you agree to move in. But you realize that your sweet, dorky new roommate has been stealing your panties.
Contains: Pervy kinda creepy Ethan, innocent inexperienced reader, fingering. m!masturbation.
A/N: Okay...this needs a part 2 but I'm already at 5k words lmao. A lot of fics I've read along these lines had had Ethan more subby, but not in this one. 👀
*For the poll I posted earlier today, this one had the most votes at the time of me posting this fic. I'm going to write them all in the order that they're wanted:)*
It seemed like your life was starting to fall apart. You couldn’t stand your roommate, your boyfriend had broken up with you, and your grade for econ was starting to tank. When you brought up your grade to your professor after class, hoping to figure out some way to raise it, she suggested that you talk to Ethan Landry.
The next time you had class, you beelined towards him once he walked in. He noticed you, getting a little nervous the closer you got. He wasn’t the best at talking to girls, he even thought this could’ve been a figment of his imagination that the girl he struggled to take his eyes off was walking to him. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving you until you were finally face to face.
“Ethan, right?” you sweetly said, as he nodded. “I hear you’re the best for tutoring, and I desperately need your help if you have the time.”
“I’ll make the time,” he spat out, before he internally screamed at himself for sounding so desperate to help. “I mean, I can help you.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, as you pulled out your phone. “What’s your number?”
“Oh, um…” he trailed off, racking his brain for those ten digits that he suddenly forgot. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“It’s okay,” you smiled, “Are you okay with me just giving you my number and you can text me so we can set something up?”
“Yeah,” he said, as he pulled out his phone and went to create a new contact. He passed you his phone as you typed in your name and number, before you handed it back to him.
“Don’t forget to text me,” you said, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you turned to walk back to your seat.
“I won’t,” he said, tightly gripping his phone in his hand as you turned to smile at him once more.
He was struggling to focus as he sat through that class. His fingers kept rubbing over the phone screen that your thumbs had moved across, and he started to realize how pathetic he was for already being so addicted to you when you’d only spoken to him once.
Later that week, you were supposed to meet Ethan in the library to study. You both completely forgot about the renovations they were doing, the normally quiet space filled with the loud sounds of the various pieces of machinery on the opposite side of the room.
“Maybe we should try to do this some other time,” you yelled over the noise. “I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”
“Oh, okay,” Ethan said, looking down so you wouldn’t see the sad look on his face. That’s when he started to get an idea. “My apartment is only two blocks away. It should be quieter. You want to come over to study?”
You liked to be cautious, and you normally wouldn’t go to someone’s apartment that you barely knew, but Ethan seemed innocent enough, and you desperately needed to pass the class so you wouldn’t have to take it again.
“Sure,” you said, wincing as the noise in the room got louder.
You walked beside Ethan as you went to his apartment, and even though it was just for studying, he felt a glint of pride as he walked with you. He hoped that anyone who saw you together would think you were his.
“Hopefully my roommates won’t be too loud,” Ethan sighed, as he stuck his key in the front door.
“Nothing is worse than what’s going on in the library right now,” you said, as he shrugged.
“You say that now…”
You barely made it inside when you heard arguing. Ethan sighed in defeat before he turned to you, “I moved in with my friends, and they’re constantly arguing.”
“Oh,” you giggled, as you followed him into the living room of the apartment. “Oh, hey Mindy,” you said, as she turned to you and smiled.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she walked over to you. Chad just stood there, still worked up from the spat they were having when you walked in.
“Ethan’s trying to help me not fail econ,” you said, as she nodded.
“I remember you mentioning you were having trouble with it.”
Ethan was confused as he stood there, because Mindy had never mentioned you, but she seemed to know you quite well. The two of you talked for a few minutes, and once Ethan heard another guy’s name get mentioned, he immediately got jealous.
“I’m proud of you for not giving him another chance,” Mindy said, as you let out a small laugh.
“I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need him making my life any harder than it needs to be right now,” you sighed, “On top of the bullshit with him, my roommate is just so awful. Like, she woke me up blasting music before the sun even came up today. I’m trying to find somewhere else to live, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”
“Well, we’re looking for a fourth roommate…” Mindy trailed off, as Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “It’d be nice to have another girl here.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you joked, as Mindy smiled.
“Seriously, think about it,” she said, before she started to yell. “Chad!”
You noticed that the other boy was no longer in the room, but you saw him again as he turned the corner and groaned. “What?”
“Okay, don’t be rude,” she snapped, “I’m trying to convince her to move into the fourth bedroom.”
“Oh,” Chad said, his annoyed face turning up in a smile. “Hey, I’m Chad.”
“Hey,” you said, before he started to go over rent and other things you’d need to know. “Why would I want to move in when you two argue like this?” you joked, as Chad tried to play it off.
“We shared a womb, we lived in the same house until we moved into our dorms, and I finally got a break from her,” he said, as she scoffed, “But now we have to live together again and we’re trying to figure out how to do that.”
“I’ve never lived with boys before…and I’m sure my parents would kill me if they ever found out, but I’ll definitely think about it,” you said, before you turned to Ethan. “I’m sorry, you want to study now?”
“Yeah, let’s go to my room,” he said, as he led you there.
You both got settled on his bed. He sat across from you, his back against the headboard as you adjusted to get more comfortable, laying on your stomach. He bit his lip once he noticed the perfect view he had down your shirt, the neckline barely covering anything as your chest was pressed against his bed.
“So, where should we start?” you asked, your soft voice barely getting his attention as he kept staring at your chest. He wanted to squeeze your boobs, suck on them, fuck them, even. “Ethan?” you questioned as you looked away from your notebook, and opened your laptop, completely blocking the sight he was fantasizing over.
“Oh, uh…” he said, as he opened his laptop. “Maybe let’s work on the quiz that’s due this weekend. It’ll show me what you do and don’t need help with.”
You spent over an hour studying with Ethan, and you felt like you were having a little bit of a better understanding. You were starting to get hungry, so you closed your laptop. Ethan glanced over his screen the second he noticed, getting another peak down your shirt again. This time, he saw a part of one of your nipples peaking out of your bra, the sight making his pants grow tighter. He fought off the sound that was threatening to come out before you sat up, once again taking his perfect view away from him.
“I’m starving,” you said, as you started to put your stuff away. “But thank you so much for your help, and I hope you’ll want to keep helping me. You’re my only hope.”
He softly chuckled at your words, “If you move in, we can study whenever you want.”
“You’d be cool with it?” you asked, smiling at him. “You didn’t really say anything out there and I didn’t want to actually start considering it until you said something.”
“Yeah, I think it’s cool,” he said, “If you do want to, and you need help moving or anything, let me know.”
“Thanks, Ethan,” you said, smiling again before you made your way out of his room.
He wanted to walk you to the door, but he knew the second he stood up, his hard cock would be so obvious. He ran his hand over the spot you were laying on the bed, your warmth still soaked up by his comforter. The view down your shirt was burned in his brain as he got up and walked over to the door, shutting and locking it before he dropped his pants to give his aching cock the attention it desperately needed.
The next time you had econ, you walked in and sat down beside Ethan. He didn’t notice at first, but he soon smelled the familiar scent that he couldn’t get out of his head after you’d left his apartment a few days before. He wasn’t sure if it was your hair or the perfume you were wearing, but it smelled delicious.
“Hey,” he smiled, his pupils growing large as he saw you. “Are you okay?”
He took in the stress on your face, and how tired you looked.
“Yeah, are you sure you’re cool with me moving in?” you asked, “Because I can’t deal with my roommate anymore.”
“Yeah, of course,” he said, “What happened?”
“She invites her boyfriend to stay over whenever she doesn’t have class the next morning,” you sighed, “I don’t want to explain all the sounds I had to listen to while I tried to sleep last night.”
“Oh,” he said softly, “Well, your room would be beside mine, and I wouldn’t keep you up all night.”
“I bet that’s why I’m failing this class right now. I never sleep,” you said, as you looked over to him. “Wait, you don’t have a girlfriend that stays over?”
“No,” he said, his cheeks turning pink at your question.
“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged, “But I really thought you would’ve had a girlfriend.”
“Really?” he asked, as your professor walked in.
“Yeah, you’re a cutie,” you smiled, before you directed your attention to the lecture.
Ethan was thankful that you were so focused and didn’t see the cheesy smile on his face. The girl he’d been thinking about as he jerked his cock for the last few days called him cute, and his heart was swelling.
After a couple weeks, Ethan, Chad, and Mindy showed up to the apartment you currently lived in while your roommate was at her boyfriend’s to help you move.
“First, I want you guys to know that none of this mess is mine,” you said, as soon as you answered the front door for them.
“Whoa,” Chad said as he glanced around. “There’s no way you live with a girl.”
“Yeah, you’ll never guess what I found on the kitchen floor this morning,” you said, as Mindy started to think.
“With the mess, I’m going to guess…dead mouse?”
“Not even close,” you said, as you shook your head and shuddered as you thought about it. “It was a condom.”
“Like…in the wrapper or…?” Chad asked, as you, once again, shook your head.
“Used.”
“Ewwww,” Mindy said, cringing at the thought. “Okay, is anything in the kitchen yours?”
“I already boxed that stuff up. Except the dishes that she’s refused to wash,” you said, as you led them to the living room. “The TV is mine, and that lamp,” you said, as you pointed, “But other than that, I really just have to worry about my room.”
“I think it’d be best to have all the heavy stuff in the living room so Ethan and I can worry about that,” Chad said, as you nodded and led them down the hall.
You had already packed up most of your room, which made it so easy for your new roommates to help you. Once Chad was carrying your mattress out and Mindy had ran out to get coffee, Ethan started to glance around your room. He noticed the hamper full of clothes in the corner, and he found himself inching closer towards it as he listened to you and Chad talk in the living room. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile, inhaling its scent. He let out a deep breath before he went to put the shirt back in the hamper, before he noticed some black lace sticking out under a pair of your jeans. He snatched it out of the basket and put it in his pocket before he put the shirt back in it once he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.
“Did you need help with this?” Ethan asked, pointing to the basket, trying to make it not seem like he was being weird.
“Shit, I forgot to do laundry,” you groaned, as the realization hit him that the panties he’d grabbed had been worn. “I’ll carry that out.”
“Okay,” Ethan said, before Chad motioned for him to help with the dresser.
Later that day after you got your stuff moved into your new room, you flopped on your freshly made bed as Mindy popped in.
“So, I’m going to try to convince the guys to share a bathroom so you don’t have to share with Ethan,” she said, as you shrugged.
“It’s not a big deal,” you said, “I just hope he doesn’t mind all the girly stuff in the shower and the makeup and stuff.”
Ethan didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d already been in the bathroom, smelling your body wash, your shampoo and conditioner. The skincare products you used. He realized that all those things together were the cause of the scent that made his head spin.
Later that night after you had takeout with everyone, Ethan excused himself to go to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about your panties that were still in his pocket. Once he pulled them out, he ran his fingers over the lace before taking in your scent. He softly groaned before he dropped his pants, the thoughts of his face buried in your pussy making him harder by the second. He had them tightly clutched in his fist as he started to stroke himself with his free hand, small whimpers flying out of his mouth as he tried to imagine how soft your hand would feel wrapped around him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth once he started to get louder, the tip of his cock red as be brought himself closer to the edge. Just as he was about to cum, he deeply inhaled the scent of your panties one more time before he rubbed them against the tip of his cock, his thick, white ropes covering the lace.
You thought living with boys was going to be difficult, but your first month wasn’t bad. You were surprised at how clean they liked everything to be, and Ethan always put the toilet seat down. You started to get close to your dorky roommate, especially once you spent so much time studying together. You already thought he was cute, but once you actually got to know more about him, you realized that he was so sweet, so nice. He might’ve been a little shy, too, but he got to the point where he was doing cute little things to make you laugh.
One day, you went to do your laundry in the apartment. You walked over and were about to throw stuff in when you noticed clothes were already inside, and Ethan quickly rounded the corner with the rest of the stuff he needed to toss in.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, “You want me to take my stuff out? I can wash it later.”
“No, it’s fine, I’ll wait,” you said with a smile, before you noticed something familiar in the washer. “Oh,” you said, your cheeks turning pink as you reached out and grabbed your panties out of the washer. “Must’ve dropped these in.”
Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed them in your hand, the realization hitting you that they were sticky.
“Eww, what is all over these?” you said, a disgusted look on your face as you tried to figure it out. You looked over to Ethan, his face bright red and his eyes huge, when you pieced it together. “Ethan…”
He just stared at you, the silence deafening as he tried to think of something, anything to say to you. He’d gotten away with stealing your panties for a month, but it was a way for him to feel close to you, and satisfy some of the sexual frustration he had whenever he thought about you.
“What’s on my panties?” you questioned, as he tensed up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”
You tossed them back in the washer and walked past him and headed straight to the bathroom to wash your hands. When you went to your room and shut the door, Ethan huffed and tossed in the rest of stuff that was in his hands before he started the washer.
As the day went by, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, and how you’d noticed that pairs of your panties had been going missing ever since you moved in. But then you’d randomly see them again, in the top drawer of your dresser after a few days. You didn’t think Ethan was like that, and it made you feel a little uneasy to live with him.
Later that night, you had to say something to him. You walked out of your room and glanced around the apartment for him, before you walked to his closed door and started to knock. He eased it open after a few seconds, his eyes connecting with yours through the small crack.
“Can we talk?” you asked, as he took a deep breath and hesitantly opened the door for you.
You walked in and took a seat on the side of the bed, your gaze on his floor as you tried to think of the right way to talk to him.
“You want me to leave the door open,” he asked, barely above a whisper as you shook your head no.
“If Mindy or Chad come home, I don’t want them to hear the conversation.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, before he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”
“Why were you stealing my panties?” you asked, as he took a deep breath.
“I can’t explain it without sounding like the total creep you probably already think I am.”
“So…that was what I thought it was on them,” you said, as you turned to look at him. He nodded, looking away to not meet your gaze.
“Again, I am so sorry,” he said, “I know you probably hate me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I’ll stay in my room so you don’t have to see me.”
“I’m just a little confused,” you said softly, as he finally let his eyes connect with yours. “What’s so exciting about my panties?”
At that moment, one thing you said to Ethan started to play in his head. ‘Sex is overrated.’ He was questioning how much experience you actually had.
“Do you really not know or are you fucking with me?” he questioned.
“Like, does it feel good? How does it even turn you on?” you asked, curiously staring at him.
“They uh…yeah, it feels good when I uh…rub them on myself. And they smell like you.”
“They smell like fabric softener and laundry detergent,” you said, a small laugh slipping out as he shook his head.
“I haven’t been stealing clean ones…they smell like you.”
“Oh,” you said, as you looked away from him. “That turns you on?”
“You have no idea,” he said, and even though the conversation was uncomfortable, he was getting hard.
“Why are guys so weird?” you thought out loud, laughing a little as you shook your head. “So does that mean that you like me? Or you’re like…sexually attracted to me? I still don’t fully get it.”
“Both,” he said, “I think you’re so beautiful, and I’ve had so much fun with you this last month…but I also think about you in a different way, too. Ya know?”
“I’ve thought about you that way, too,” you admitted, “It’d kind of hard not to. I hear you through the walls all the time.”
“You’ve heard me?” he asked, a blush spreading to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know you hated when you heard your old roommate.”
“I like it when I hear you,” you said so softly that he barely heard it.
“Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”
Your breathing got heavier at his question, and Ethan noticed. You were getting so flustered under his gaze.
“I…I’ve tried to,” you said, as you took in the curious look on his face.
“Tried to?” he asked, “What do you mean?”
“Like…I know what feels good, but I can never get myself…there, if you know what I mean.”
“You’ve never made yourself cum?” he questioned, admiring how cute you looked as you got embarrassed.
“No one has.”
“No one?” he asked, his throat dry at the thought. “Are you a virgin?”
“No…but I’ve never enjoyed sex. Like, it feels good, but I think it’s so disappointing when you hear how amazing orgasms are and then I just never get one.”
Ethan expected the conversation that was happening to go so differently. He thought you hated him, but there you were, telling him that you’d tried to get yourself off when you’d heard him. The thought of him being the first one to make you cum had him salivating, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he offered.
“Have you ever…given someone an orgasm?” you asked, as he nodded. “I’m jealous of whoever she is.”
“Don’t be,” he said, scooting a little closer to you. “Fuck, I’d make you cum all the time if I could.”
“Really?” you smiled, “If you ever want to, I’m right next door,” you joked, as he smiled and shook his head.
“Hey, don’t offer that or I’ll be in your room every day.”
You were starting to squirm against his bed, your thighs rubbing together so subtly that he could barely tell. The sexual tension was so thick, your breathing getting heavier as you thought about how good Ethan would make you feel.
“I think I need to go back to my room,” you said, as you started to stand up. That’s when you glanced at Ethan’s lap, noticing the tent in his sweatpants.
“Do you really want to?” he asked, “Because if you want me to take care of you right now, I will.”
“Seriously?” you questioned, as he smiled and nodded.
“Come here,” he said, reaching out to grab your hands, pulling you to him.
Once Ethan leaned in to kiss you, he was almost taken aback by how quickly your lips were moving against his. He was desperate for you, but you were just as desperate for him. He matched your pace before he pushed you back on the bed, his hand running from your hip, up your ribs, until it landed on your breast. You gasped into the kiss once he squeezed it.
You had massive butterflies in your stomach once you felt his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, your head was spinning, but you were loving every second of it.
“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, once he pulled away to catch his breath. “I think we should go to your room.”
“Why?” you asked because you didn’t want to stop. You needed his lips back on yours.
“Because you have that full length mirror leaning against your wall,” he said, chuckling once you noticed the confused look on your face. “I want you to see what I’m doing to make you cum…in case I’m never here to help you.”
“Okay,” you said, as he stood up and grabbed your hands.
Once he opened his bedroom door, he listened to make sure he didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment before he walked out and to your room next door. He shut and locked your bedroom door once he made it inside, before he pulled you into another kiss. His hands held onto your hips until they started to rub against the flesh under the hem of your shirt. He kept inching it further and further up, until he pulled away to pull it over your head. His lips went back to yours as he reached around to unhook your bra, his hands squeezing at your breasts once they were free.
His mouth moved to your neck as his hands explored your body, before they snaked under the waistband of your leggings. He moved them down over your hips as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He recognized them as the first pair he ever stole, the black lacy ones.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, as his hand moved to rub you over your panties. The material was soaked as you moaned at the feeling. “That feel good?”
“Yes,” you said, quickly nodding your head just in case he needed the extra confirmation. “So good.”
“I hate that I have to take these off you,” he said, as he inched the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely nude in front of him. “I’m going to sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and I want you to sit between my legs.”
“Okay,” you said, as he took a seat on the floor, his legs spreading for you to sit. You did as he said, looking at him in the mirror as he spread your legs, placing your feet on either side of his legs on the floor.
You watched him lick two of his fingers before he placed them against your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes stayed on the reflection of his hand, your mouth parting as you started to breathe faster. He added a little more pressure as you fully relaxed back into his chest, the softest moans slipping out as he went a little faster.
“Ethaaan,” you whined out, the noise quickly becoming his new favorite sound.
“Shh, I don’t know if anyone else is here,” he said softly, “Just keep your legs spread for me, baby.”
He rubbed a few more circles on your clit before his fingers moved lower, one of them slipping inside you. He pumped it in and out for a minute before he added another, as you angled your neck to look up at him. He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers moved, before he started to mumble against your lips.
“If you ever finger yourself, this…” he said, as he curved them just right, a low moan flying out of your mouth, “Is the spot that needs attention. Okay baby?”
“Okay,” you whimpered, as he moved his fingers faster.
The sounds you were making just kept getting louder, and Ethan was just hoping and praying that no one else was home. One of your hands clung to his thigh as your other hand wrapped around his wrist, as you started to feel…different. It felt so good, and the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. Once he went even faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy and your whimpers filling the room, your legs were trying so hard to close as your toes curled against the carpet on the floor.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, your fluttering eyes watching his hand in the mirror as your body started to tingle.
“Cum for me baby,” he encouraged, as you finally let that feeling wash over your body. You were jolting, your eyes screwed shut as his fingers started to slow, his free hand roaming your chest as you let out all your sounds.
Once you fully relaxed in his arms, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as your hazy eyes connected with his in the mirror.
“Now you can’t say no one’s ever made you cum,” he said with a smile, as he slid his fingers out of you. “Did it feel good?”
“That was better than I thought it was going to be,” you said, “Thanks, Ethan.”
“You’re welcome.”
You sat there in silence for a minute as you felt his cock pressing against you, and you wanted so badly to take care of him, until you heard commotion in the apartment.
“Hey, guysss,” Chad yelled, as he walked down the hall.
You tensed up as you glanced at your door, before Ethan whispered, “It’s okay, I locked it.”
You relaxed again before Chad started to yell again, “Tara’s here!”
You forgot about hanging out with Mindy and Tara for the night, and you didn’t want to pull away from Ethan, but you hesitantly did, your legs wobbling as you tried to stand. Ethan got up to help you, and once you got your bearings, he started to grab your clothes off the floor for you.
“Thanks,” you said, before you noticed him pick up your panties.
“No, thank you,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards your door. “I’ll see you when you get back in the morning.”
“I better still have panties in that top drawer when I get back.”
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hii! i have a request i thought of a few days ago, fem!reader x slytherin boys (mainly mattheo riddle) where they noticed something wrong with her and she lies about it and mattheo says something along the line of “cut the bullshit”
CW: cussing, Angst, insecure reader, screaming, Arguing
You've been hanging out with the Slytherins less and less, not eating with them or hanging out at Blaise's Dorm after class.
That Fact alone wouldn't be unusual. It's exam Season after all and you often spend that time holed up in your Dorm, Studying and Eating what your Roommates bring you up.
The Problem occurs when you stop coming to Sunday Hangouts.
It's not an actual Agreement or anything, but it's become a Routine never broken.
Never.
No matter what's going on, on Sunday at around 9 PM you all meet at the Greenhouse.
Mattheo's always the first there and Tom's the last.
Pansy never figured out a certain time she would arrive while Draco always turns up at exactly 9:06:56
Down to the motherfucking Second
Blaise always brings a Book he doesn't read, Theo always forgets the Snacks he's supposed to bring and brings the sweets only he likes instead, while you always bring a Sketchbook.
It's 9:34 and you're not here.
You weren't there last week but Blaise convinced the others to talk about it Today.
Mattheo was stressing about talking with you and got into an all-time high of fights all week.
Now, you're not here.
Everyone is here
Except for you
It's pissing Mattheo off and at this point, the others are just as peeved
You are in your room crying
You know you should be at the Greenhouse rn, and doing anything else feels weird
The last 3 years you have spent every Sunday at the Greenhouse
For two weeks you haven't
The Slytherins loudly knock on your door and you quickly wipe away the tears, taking a few deep breaths to seem more collected
Mattheo sees your red eyes and is immediately worried although anger quickly overcomes him
Why didn't you tell him something was wrong?
God, why can you never just talk to him??
"Oh, hi guys!"
You force a smile but they see through it
"Wtf, y/n. Where have you been, what's going on???"
"I've just been studying, you know how i get"
"Cut the crap, wtf is actually going on?"
Blaise pulls him back a bit to not make you feel cornered
Theo steps forward, missing the point of Mattheo getting pulled back "We worry!! You can't just cut contact for two weeks. We excused you not coming to hang out last week but two times in a row?!"
"Calm down guys, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation to all of this, Right?" Pansy says, but the last words have some venom you didn't expect.
Not from her
Your best Friend
Hot tears fall from your eyes and Tom pulls Pansy to the side while Mattheo steps closer, his eyes filled with worry
"Mi Vida? Can I hug you?"
His Voice is soft and his open Arms look so inviting.
You want to step back and say no so badly when you remember the words that caused this, but you can't bring yourself to do so. Silently nodding
He wraps his arms around you in a matter of seconds pulling you as close as he can.
You can hear Blaise's annoyed voice talk the others into leaving you alone
He is the only one smart enough to realize how overwhelmed you are
One after the other they usher out
All with various amounts of Backtalk, while you and Mattheo stay still. Standing in the middle of the now empty room, Papers and Books scattered all around you, Mattheo buries his Head in your Neck.
"Wanna tell me what's wrong, baby?"
Pt. 2 with Backstory and more Angst?
#headcanon#fluff#writing#fanfic#harry potter#mattheo x reader#mattheo riddle#mattheo x you#mattheoxreader#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle x reader#slytherin boys react#slytherin#slytherin boys x reader
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up.
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time.
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek.
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last.
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all.
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips.
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat.
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons.
“Do you know his name?” he asks.
“No.”
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least.
“What happened?”
“I told him no.”
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?”
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you.
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight.
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin.
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin.
“I think I want to quit.”
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.”
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.”
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out.
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong.
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.”
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?”
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–”
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.”
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe.
You can’t begrudge him.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.”
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.”
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise.
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.”
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
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Okay but could u write something fluffy with soap. Tbh I feel like he'd be the best friend to lovers kinda thing.
AND YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT i love friends to lovers so much guys u don't understand :(
also, i realize now that this isn't super fluff-heavy!! apologies </3 i got carried away.
johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader
warnings: horrid scottish slang from a non-scot (i am sincerely sorry), my writing from 2 am on three hours of sleep (also sincerely sorry)
-
-best friend to lovers with soap except there wasn't really a specific moment you two become each other's. it just... kind of happened.
-growing up with him and supporting his dreams to be a soldier while he supported yours. the first time he came back from a mission, you were the first person he wanted to see once he was allowed back home.
-you used to fuss over any injuries he got from being himself as a little kid, and the worry only heightened when he'd come back from missions with real wounds.
-his mom would always have a cheeky smile seeing you two together. she never said it, but it was always hinted in the way she acted. she was always talking to johnny about how you were such an impressive and loyal young person, often doting on you and insisting you stay for dinner (which, of course, you couldn't refuse).
-the first time johnny started dating someone, it was hard for you to deal with, but it got easier the more it happened.
-what you didn't know was johnny would take it even worse whenever you told him you started dating someone. he'd act all proud and protective in a brotherly fashion, but behind closed doors he was scowling to himself without knowing why.
-one day, you're visiting him in his apartment after he had been away for a few months. you're strangely more subdued than usual, and of course he notices.
-"hey," he calls to you softly, a strange contrast to his usual loud self. "what's wrong?"
-"nothing, don't worry about it," you reassure him, fiddling with the little plushie he got you from his travels--one of the many trinkets he's gotten for you. he always says it's to make up for the fact that he won't be there to bother you in person, but it's actually because every precious little thing he sees reminds him of you.
-"ah ken you're lying," he tells you in a warning tone.
-"i got broken up with, is all," you admit, turning your head away from him.
-"what?" he booms incredulously. how could anyone leave you? "is he insane? after getting an apartment together?"
-"there was this girl from his work and, well, i don't know," you shrugged, fighting back the tears you thought had dried days ago. "he wants the apartment. i mean, he did pay for more of it so-"
-"come live with me."
-it was your turn to be in disbelief, turning your head to face him with a confused look on your face.
-"what?"
-"th' place is empty with me at work. no rent, 's away from yer stupid ex, and ye get to be around me," he added jokingly. you rolled your eyes, but how could you not take him up on his offer?
-from then on, you're living with your best friend and taking care of the place while he's away. if you're staying rent-free, the least you could do was try and be as neat as possible (he insisted it was okay with the place looked like it was lived in, but you refused).
-when he'd come back from his missions, he'd still shower you in little gifts he'd get along the way when possible. you always tried to have some kind of meal ready for him, too.
-"you're always cooking for us, a'm feeling like i should do it sometime," he says, already knowing the answer to that proposal.
-"absolutely not." (the one time you let him cook was when you were both in college. he caught a pan on fire, somehow.)
-"you hurt me!"
-"oh, please."
-eventually, the routine becomes more and more domestic to the two of you. soap's mother always calls out how you two are living like a married couple, but the both of you just laugh it off like neither of you have noticed.
-you eventually notice changes in johnny's gifts. it went from gag gifts and plushies to little pieces of jewelry or intricate pens. sometimes you even think you catch him staring at you, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. he hasn't mentioned being interested in anyone in a while, either.
-it all comes to a head when johnny doesn't come home the day he said he would. sure, it happened at times, but this was the longest amount of time he's been late.
-eventually, he finally walks through the door with too many injuries, a bruise on his lip, and walking with a rough limp.
-you tend to him immediately, of course, interrogating him on what his doctor told him he should do to take care of his healing wounds. the rest of the night goes just like how the others have gone, with you making sure he's fed, warm, and resting.
-by the time you're closing his window for him, you're absolutely exhausted. you had barely gotten any sleep because of johnny's delayed return. normally, you would've let him do more for himself, but the extent of his injuries was worrying you.
-"ye ken am alright, aye?" he asks you in that low, rich voice, searching your eyes for something other than worry and sleepiness. he's sitting up in his bed by the time you walk back to him (despite the fact that you told him to lay down).
-"you're injured. you came home late."
-"what? ye have no faith in me?" he mocks hurt, trying to put a smile on your face or at least get an exhale of amusement out of you, but you weren't in the mood. he could tell by the way you didn't respond and the permanent but subtle frown on your face.
-"i know you're good at your job, johnny," you finally say, ready to call it a night.
-"good. then ye know i'll always come back home to ye, aye?"
-you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, too tired to overthink about what he just said.
-"come here," he orders quietly, reaching out to you.
-gently, he coaxes you into laying next to him. the last time you ever slept in the same bed as johnny was when you two were kids. you were having a sleepover at his house with you in his bed and him on a spare mattress. you had a nightmare so bad it woke johnny up, but instead of brushing it off and making a joke of it, he jumped into bed with you and hugged you protectively. he said it was a good way to train for becoming a soldier, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.
-just like back then, you had an easy time falling asleep in his arms, now.
-you woke up that morning well-rested and still encased in johnny's arms, which was impressive considering the fact that most times he sleeps in a position that looks like he flung himself across the bed.
-when he wakes up, you sit up with the intention getting breakfast up and running, but johnny doesn't like that idea.
-"johnny, it's almost eleven. we have to eat something," you chide, trying to get out of his impossibly strong grasp.
-"ye get all sad when am gone but yer trying to leave, now?"
-"well, i suppose if you're well enough to joke, you're well enough to clean the rest of the house and cook, yeah?"
-he lets go of you immediately in a comical fashion, and you have to catch yourself as you hurl out of bed from the built momentum of your escape. you look back at him with a seriously? look on your face as he laughs at your near fall.
-"doesn't that hurt?" you question him, remembering the bruise and cut near his lips and throat.
-"maybe a little," he admits. "kiss it better?"
-the grin on his face makes you think he was setting you up for that one. how could he be so confident?
-just like the times when his mother called you two a married couple, you laughed it off and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.
-that wasn't the only time johnny's behavior changed noticeably. now, his longing stares at you were more blatant than ever. he'd hold you by the waist if he was moving past you and even told someone flirting with him "oh, i've got someone at home," while he was on call with you on the other end.
-what more could you do than accept it? it wasn't like you didn't like it, anyway.
-one night, you're both in the dining room with you standing and him sitting down on a chair. his hands are on your waist with his legs on either side of you as you reapply a band-aid to his temple (something he could very well do on his own, but any excuse to be close to you, right?).
-as you finish putting it on, your attention draws itself to his lip nearly healed. gently ghosting your finger across the barely visible bruise, you murmur, "good to see this one's basically healed."
-"awe, but it isn't," he corrects you, a slight pout on his face.
-"it isn't?"
-"no, still hurts like hell." you should've seen this one coming. "kiss it better?"
-"that's the second time you've asked me," you were rolling your eyes as you withdrew your hand from his face, but he caught your hand in his.
-"am being serious, (n/n), only a kiss'll make it better," he insists, that damn smile back on his face.
-you couldn't help but wonder if he was actually being serious or just pulling your leg.
-"how could you be so sure?" you challenged him.
-"seen it in ma dreams." oh, that was a funny one.
-"you dream about kissing people to heal your wounds?" you ask through the remnants of your laughter, but he's still looking at you with that same far-off smile on his face.
-"no, just of you."
-there's a pause between the two of you as you process what he said.
-"oh."
-he squeezes your hand with an expectant look in his eyes, like he knew you were head over heels just as much as he was for you.
-you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the searing burning in your cheeks. "well, i guess if you dreamt it, it must be true," you tell him.
-he places his unoccupied hand under your chin and guides your face to his, but he doesn't close the gap. it was like he was waiting--making sure you really wanted to go through with this.
-but you do, so you press your lips to his and he lets go of your face to put his palm on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer toward him.
-later that night, when you're back in his arms watching your guys' favorite show and he's calling his mother to tell her the news, you can hear her shrieks of excitement coming through the phone.
-the only thing you don't hear is when she asks, "when's th' wedding?"
-"soon, hopefully," he looks at you leaning against him, head pressed against his shoulder and arm clinging to his like it was meant to be. "but there's no rush. a've waited this long, aye?"
#call of duty imagine#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#cod imagine#call of duty x you#soap x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x you#johnny mactavish imagine#johnny soap mactavish imagine#soap imagine#cod mw x reader#soap x y/n#johnny mactavish x y/n#rarawrites
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hi frienddd❤️ (im totally gonna spam your ask box but feel free to choose whichever lyric you wanna use)
guilty as sin
messy top lip kiss , how i long for our trysts
without ever touching his skin , how can i be guilty as sin
Also for @galvanizedfriend who asked for these lyrics too
-
She wasn’t doing anything wrong.
In fact, she wasn’t even doing anything. It wasn’t as if she had acted upon any of the… interesting ideas her brain had decided to come up with to torment her late at night. She would chalk it all up to some temporary insanity and, honestly, given the amount of trauma and stress she had gone through ever since she had literally died and come back as a creature of nightmares… it wasn’t as if she could be blamed.
Right?
Caroline held back a sigh, slumping in her chair as she gripped tight onto the table, careful not to break it in her frustration. She could leave. She should leave. Except… she had decided being home all alone was too dangerous given the directions her mind had started to wander, and she could really use the distraction of being around other people.
If only the person she was trying to distract herself from hadn’t decided on a night out as well.
Klaus was shooting pool, out of all things. His siblings playing against him. It seemed almost unreal watching these creatures who seemed to be older than time squabbling and bickering. But what looked very real was Klaus’ backside every time he leaned towards the table.
She bit her lowerlip, her traitorous eyes refusing to look away. God. This was getting ridiculous.
Awful, despicable men who ran her (now ex) boyfriend out of town should not have perfect shoulder-to-waist ratio. Their shirts should not cling to their biceps like that. And they most definitely weren’t allowed to have curls like an angel’s falling over their forehead like that.
She watched as he threw some barb or another after a perfect shot, transfixed. And her gaze must have been burning holes into his back, because he turned around, searching her. And curving his lips into the most sinful smirk when he caught her staring.
Caroline bit down a groan.
He was awful. Terrible. Disgusting. She had to remember that.
Even if Tyler was off to god knows where with god knows who. Even if he had broken up with her through a phone call. Even if her bed felt far too empty and lonely and cold. And even if her mind had become particularly creative and convincing and really, what would a thousand years of experience even feel like?
And maybe, if she just went there once to get this itching done with, she could get this out of her head and move on and-
Nope. Not going there.
She forced herself to close her eyes, even as her breath quickened, images pouring in her brain in flashes of kisses and entangled limbs and the overwhelming scent of him. And-
Caroline opened her eyes to find Klaus sitting across from her at her table, a knowing smile on his lips.
“Good evening, love.”
#klaroline#klaroline fanfic#klaroline fanfiction#heatherstyles#thank you so much for the prompt ❤️#guilty as sin was the first song in the album I immediately thought was PERFECT for kc#and yep still doing these 😭#i just havent had much time
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Part 2 of Leo's birthday - Jonah's turn.
This was a request from🧋anon!
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Leo was cute when he slept and Jonah was sure this was an objective opinion and not just because he was head over heels in love with the guy.
He was sprawled on the bed, occupying most of it and snoring softly, shirtless and having already kicked away most of the blankets. Despite the terrible ending of their night, Jon was still counting that as a good birthday. Sure, Leo had puked on Wendy’s shoes and then again on the kitchen sink as soon as they got home, but afterwards he had climbed into bed with Jonah, complaining about a bellyache, and had melted like a golden retriever pup on his lap, dozing off within minutes of getting the belly rub.
That should still count as a good birthday, right?
“Baby,” Jonah crawled on the bed, freshly showered and ready to head in for work, “Leo. Wake up, you’re going to be late for work,” he shook his fiance’s shoulder, “Leo.”
He’d probably end up being late himself at this rate. Leo groaned and swatted his hand away, making Jonah scoff.
“I’m heading to work,” he whispered, brushing Leo’s hair away from his face, “and I’m gonna set your phone’s alarm. Thirty more minutes, then you have to get up.”
“Uhhrgh,” was Leo’s response and Jonah rolled his eyes, doing as he had promised and leaving the bedroom. He had spent too much time in the shower and there wouldn’t be any time to make himself food, but the cupcakes Leo had brought over from work were still in the fridge.
Figuring his boyfriend certainly wouldn’t want them after puking due to too much food last night, Jonah quickly polished off the two cupcakes on his way down to the garage.
As his day progressed, Jonah’s good humor started to tank. Everything felt like too much, his clothes clinging to him, the hospital noise that normally he could drown out without thinking, sounding much louder than usual.
Around 10 AM, he got a kid wailing down the ER and a distraught mom absolutely chewing the hell out of the paramedic who had just brought him in. Jonah cringed as he realized he’d have to be the one handling this. There were many reasons why he wanted to be a surgeon and one of them was no angry moms hovering about while he tried to do his job.
He’d take a heart attack any day over a broken leg.
Mom’s name was Louise and she was not impressed by Jonah’s bedside manner. Her son was named Charlie and he was struggling to keep up, the poor kid’s chin wobbling as he tried valiantly not to cry.
“Charlie, we’re going to-”
The dam broke and more tears came up. Jonah sighed, resisting the urge to fan himself. It was so warm. He planted a sympathetic hand on the kid’s shoulder, wiping away the tears. It was painful to watch, knowing the boy was only hurting himself more by sobbing like that.
“You’re okay,” Jonah cooed softly, as the nurse started up an IV, communicating silently with him. There was no way they could wait for oral painkillers to take effect before wheeling the kid to x-ray and that was considering he didn’t make himself sick with all the crying, “it’s just a little poke.”
“Hu-hurttssss,” the little boy continued to cry and Jonah rubbed his back, checking his watch. Five minutes for the morphine to kick in. Louise was patting her foot nervously on the ground, whole body shaking with anxiety.
“Ma’am, he’s in good hands,” Jonah explained, just to say something. His stomach was starting to slosh uncomfortably, “we’re waiting for the painkillers to kick in and then we’ll go to x-ray, you’re welcome to accompany-”
“Of course I’m going with him, are you crazy?” She scoffed at him, stepping closer and cooing over her son. Jonah resisted the urge to move away, as the kid wiped at his nose grossly on the back of his sleeve and slightly cuddled up to his side. He was getting heavy.
“There we go,” Jon lowered him against the pillow, “hurting less?”
The boy nodded, his face still all pink and wet with tears, “still hurts.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” he grimaced, signing the kid’s record and jolting down his next instructions, “we can’t give you too much medicine, in case we need to do another procedure. As soon as the X-rays are done we’ll give you better meds,” Jonah smoothed the boy’s hair back gently, “we’re going to move your bed now, okay Charlie? Are you feeling alright?”
The kid sucked in a sob, but nodded and Jonah smiled at him, “nurse Marjorie is going to stay with you the whole time,” he gestured to the much older nurse, who was one of his favorite people in the hospital. She had more than 30 years of experience, was trained for surgeries and tough as nails. “Then as soon as you’re released from X-Ray I’m going to see you again, okay?”
“O-Okay…” The kid’s voice broke and Jonah squeezed his hand in a sympathetic manner, before allowing the technicians to wheel him away, his mother not sparing the doctor a second glance.
As soon as they were out of sight, Jonah allowed his smile to fade.
While the interaction had been brief — and Louise hadn’t actually shaped up to be a momzilla, just a regular worried mother — it had been long enough for his stomach to go from “a little off” to “full blown nausea”.
He felt a weird pressure travel up and Jonah quickly excused himself, power walking to the bathrooms, stripping his white coat as he rushed there so he wouldn’t be so recognizable as a doctor.
The bathroom, given it was near the ER, wasn’t empty. There were five stalls on each side, the middle of the room had a large slab of stone with a mirror and five sinks on each side of the mirror. No urinals, for which Jonah was very glad.
He rushed inside of a stall and brought his coat to his mouth, muffling a loud, thick burp. Even with the fabric in the way, it was still pretty loud and he was sure others had heard it. Whatever, this was a hospital, he tried to reassure himself, as yet another sickening burp rolled up.
Jonah let out a little moan and lowered the coat, head hanging in shame and nausea. He folded the coat over one arm, slightly palming his stomach under his button up shirt. It was warm to the touch and bloated and the small pressure of his hand on it caused another belch to rush up, this one too expected for him to muffle it.
It hurt his throat, the acidic sludge of his tummy rushing up with the burp, but he swallowed it down last second. Jonah pressed his forehead to the hard white plastic of the stall’s wall and breathed out slowly, he had to get his body in check. At least finish his ER hours.
Defeated and knowing he wouldn’t puke right at this moment, Jonah walked out of the stall to wash his face.
The next two hours went like a blur. He tried his best to focus on his patients, but was forcefully reminded by his stomach that it was still very upset every other minute. He had grabbed a plastic cup of water and was sipping on it in between patients, pushing down the thick sweet saliva that kept flooding his mouth.
Finally Claire came to relieve him, so he could go for lunch, and Jonah could’ve cried. Instead of heading down to the cafeteria or to the many restaurants that were around the hospital’s complex, he went to the doctor’s staff to lie down.
There was coming and going in the place, it was a change of shifts after all, and Jonah reached for his phone inside his locker. He grabbed it, then went to the back room where there were two bunker beds in case they needed to sleep.
One of the top ones was already occupied and Jonah put his phone on silent mode, then crawled on a bottom bed, curling up on his side and muffling another sick burp against the thin pillow.
He wrapped an arm around his stomach, bringing up his knees and squeezing his eyes as the pressure made his belly feel like it was full with boiling liquid.
There were texts from Leo and Jonah squinted at the screen, lowering the brightness and struggling to understand what his boyfriend was saying.
Leo: Gonna call in sick at work, still feeling pretty shitty. Don’t think I overdid it yesterday, just ate something off.
Leo: Good news! You’ll be happy to know the restaurant we went to didn't make me sick. I got food poisoning at the office :) When I get my hands on Sandy she’s done for.
Leo: Apparently they canceled everyone’s schedule, because everyone called in sick. Isn't that lovely? You bet your ass we’re gonna have a lecture on food handling and what not, can’t wait.
Leo: When are you coming home, my tummy hurts and I want cuddles 🥺🥺 JD is sick of me
Leo: Jon, did you eat the cupcakes in the fridge? Baby, pls text me back.
The string of texts started at 8 AM and ended just around 10 AM, with one missed call accompanying it. Jonah gagged as he realized he had eaten the poisoned stuff as well and he dropped his phone on the mattress, half sitting up on the bed and trying to figure if he was about to spew or not.
He was sweating. Jon undid his tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt, sitting fully up and cradling his stomach. The whole organ was snarling like crazy and he gulped down when the flipping of its contents made him gag, almost bringing up liquid.
“Fuck,” Jonah whispered, grabbing his phone, coat and tie and slipping out of the bedroom. He needed a bathroom, not a bedroom- His intestines cramped and Jon froze, shuddering at the sensation. He really needed a bathroom.
At least the doctor’s one was much more private. It still had stalls, but only two and the place was empty. Jonah dropped all his items to the ground, suddenly too restless and panicked to mind how gross that was. He wasn’t sure if he was going to shit his pants or puke.
His stomach let out an upset whine and then a rush of bubbles went south, making up his mind for him. His hands were shaking as they fumbled with his belt and fly and he could feel his tummy rumbling ominously against his touch.
He sat on the toilet, then wrapped his arms around his middle, gulping down nervously. The lights over his head felt like too much and he was sweating like hell.
The runs left him so dizzy he was forced to plant a hand on the stall’s wall in order not to fall off the toilet. Jonah didn’t even bother muffling the sick burping fit that followed, his head swimming.
Once he finally managed to get out of the bathroom, Jonah stared at his reflection angrily. He looked like hell. Sweat had glued down his tight curls to his temples and was beading over his forehead and mustache area, he looked gray, his lips pale…
He washed his face and hands vigorously, then took a gulp of tap water and breathed through the sensation of it settling in his stomach like a brick. Jonah checked his watch, then groaned out loud, there was no way he’d be able to last the remaining five hours he still had to go.
Wendy picked up on the third ring, sounding sleepy. She had the night shift today and Jonah felt bad about waking her up, but not so bad he considered not calling. He wanted to go home, his whole body was shaking.
“Yeah?” she yawned, “Jon?”
“Dee, can you cover for me? I don’t feel well,” he said, straight to the point. Another yawn.
“Please tell me Leo didn’t have a stomach bug. I can't get the flu again, I’m gonna cry,” Wendy groaned and he heard her moving around.
“No, food poisoning and I-” he turned his head, muffling a sick burp and gagging over the sink when it brought up some thick, extra sweet spit. Jonah took a steady breath, “I think I got it as well.”
“Fantastic,” Wendy deadpanned, “I can go in one hour, can you handle that long?”
He knew she only lived 10 minutes away from the hospital and that the 50 other minutes were probably to tell Vince goodbye, since he’d be driving back to Doverport. Jonah felt mildly annoyed at the fact she’d be making out with her boyfriend while he was dying, but he also knew she was already doing a gigantic favor by coming in five hours before she needed to.
“Yeah, I can handle one hour,” he sighed, clutching his stomach.
“Alright, I’ll be there,” she hung up without further ado and Jonah let out a sigh.
The thing was, he could clock out and then stay in the bathroom until Wendy arrived, but then it would mean his chart would show he had left five hours earlier and Jonah needed all the hours he could get. Whenever Wendy covered for him or he covered for her, they never clocked out.
So instead of being smart and staying in the bathroom, he forced himself to go sit in his office.
Normally he liked clinic office hours, but not today. Today he didn’t like anything.
Jonah was sitting there, with his head in his hands and considering the stupidity of his actions given how badly his stomach was churning and how he kept burping — thank god his door was shut —, when there was a knock.
He glanced at his watch. 30 more minutes, couldn’t be Wendy.
“Come-” just speaking increased his nausea tenfold and Jonah interrupted himself as he gagged, sliding the trashcan that was under his desk closer and–
The door opened, the person on the other side clearly not realizing he hadn’t finished his words. The little boy from before, now in crutches and with his leg on a cast, still looking like he was in pain and ready to cry, his mother right behind him…
“Fuck,” Jonah groaned, when his stomach gave up on him and he had no choice but to dive for the trashcan as a thick wave of vomit came up. He brought it up to his mouth, to shield his face from view, but still he heard over the rushing in his ears as the woman let out a shriek.
Humiliation only heightened his stomach ache and he coughed, bringing up another wave of overly sweet vomit. It tasted just like the chocolate cupcakes, except rotten. Jonah burped mid retch, feeling more than a little woozy and he fell from his chair, grabbing on the desk to keep from going down entirely.
A lot more noise now and then a hand was in the middle of his back, a female voice ushering his distraught patients out. He prayed the next wave of puke would drown him.
No such luck, his tummy squeezed again and Jonah let out a whimper as he was forced to burp and it brought up some more chunks of his poisoned breakfast. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime but was probably just a couple minutes, he stopped feeling like he was about to hurl and was left panting over the trashcan.
He was shaking like hell and his stomach was cramping, intestines as well. Everything felt sort of fuzzy around the edges.
“Jon?” Wendy’s voice was like a balm to his nerves and he nearly cried. Instead he let out a groan and pulled back from the trashcan, falling vaguely against her. He heard her let out a little huff as he weight rested on her, but her hand was cold and gentle as it came to cup his forehead.
“Killme, Wen,” he groaned, his words sticking together and she let out a sigh, rubbing his arm.
“Are you done?”
“For now,” Jonah nodded. He knew he was far from done, not only because of the food, but because he felt a new type of nausea mix into his belly. Anxiety, panic, “my patients-”
“It’s okay,” Wendy squeezed his arm, “don’t think about that. Claire took them out.”
“Fuck,” he turned his head and blinked, finally getting a hold of his bearings. They were sitting on the ground, practically under his desk. Wendy had her white coat on and she looked incredibly concerned, “you’re not gonna call me an idiot for not sitting in the doctor’s lounge until you arrived?”
Wendy shook her head, “you’re feeling too bad for me to tease you,” she stroked his cheek lightly and Jonah felt a knot in his throat. He nodded in agreement and leaned forward, planting his forehead to her shoulder, a weird position given Wendy was much shorter than he was.
“I wanna die,” he groaned and she rubbed his back.
“You’re okay, sweetheart,” she ushered him up, “I’ll get their details and you can send the mom an apology card and some fancy wine. It’s not the end of the world, I promise you.”
“Stewarts-” Jonah started to say, meaning his supervisor, who’d absolutely chew him out for this and Wendy glared at him, pushing him along the hallway.
“You couldn’t have known, it came out of nowhere,” she lied through her teeth, “right? You were feeling fine before.”
Jonah cringed, but nodded, buying in the lie, “yeah, I certainly didn’t feel gross for hours beforehand.”
“Exactly,” Wendy pushed him down the hallway, “I’m gonna drive you home, okay? And you’re gonna be a decent patient and drink loads of water and get your boy to do the same, because I don’t want to see any of you in my hospital later.”“Don’t call Leo my boy, that’s weird,” Jonah groaned, but he was feeling overwhelmingly fond of his best friend. He loved this woman so much.
#i dont want anyone yelling at me about how my medical scenario is innacurate in my little puke-porn ficlet#i dont care#sickfic#mywriting#jonah banks#part 2 out of 3#🧋anon#emeto#emetophilia#food poisoning
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Second Time's the Crime - By Nagare Ebi (7.5/10)
This is an intense and gory horror story featuring two very different obsessive men, but it loses points because the romance isn't very believable. You know who the endgame love interest is right away, and it's the boring one. The "heroic" yandere doesn't get enough character development. The psychological pain and real violence on display makes the romance feel like background noise.
Shiki is a poor little victim in the beginning. A wealthy but abused wife. It LOOKS like her 35 year old husband pounced on her when she was 19 because he needed a convenient bride. It LOOKS like he married her to cover up his debauched lifestyle.
It's...too much?
It's suspicious from chapter two. Kaoru is a handsome older man who didn't need to get married at all. He abuses his young wife. He cheats on her. He makes her eat a raw egg in one of his first scenes, but he's loving to her before he goes to work.
It's almost like he's performing for an audience, but there's nobody there. Just him and his terrified wife.
It's almost like....torturing her is his hobby?
It was a fairytale romance. Her parents were over the moon. She didn’t have money. He's got lots. He was mature and romantic and he dated her seriously before they got hitched.
He started abusing her days after the wedding....with joy in his eyes???
Shiki doesn't bother with the details. She obviously assumes he's just a lying pervert that wanted a submissive wife.
That's what it LOOKS like.
The pain she goes through changes her. She figures out that he's a cheater. Of course he is. He owns a fashion magazine. He works with models every day.
....when he sleeps with those models he calls them by her name...
Why would she know little details like that?
All she knows is the pain, and the desire for it to end.
She wants to die, but someone else has been watching her. She goes to the movie theater alone alot, and she has an admirer there.
It's a man who thinks she should kill her husband. Saku comes from a broken family. His mother died after years of abuse, and his father was never prosecuted. He's also very in love with Shiki. He's willing to help her kill her husband, because she's beautiful and he wants to see her happy.
They actually have a pretty good relationship, because the story goes nuts.
Saku doesn't whisk Shiki away and protect her.
He can't. Shiki has to protect him too.
Kaoru is willing to kill for Shiki too. There's a tracker in her phone. He removed all of her friends from her life too, so when Saku tries to run away with her Kaoru hunts them down. He's a little too prepared. He catches her every time like he's a one man military group.
It becomes clear that this isn't some average "abusive husband" story.
Of course the main characters make it clear that Kaoru is an abuser. He doesn't deserve to be forgiven and Shiki should divorce him. She just can't, because Kaoru will kill her, her allies and possibly himself if she runs.
He's not a normal man.
He really does love her. Just not in a sane way. Shiki will never understand him, and she shouldn't. He absolutely hid his unstable side from her to lure her in, and he doesn’t deserve any pity.
Shiki soon realizes her husband is serious. He almost kills Saku more than once.....so she returns to him because she's worried for Saku. Shiki starts to develop way more than Saku. By the end of the story Saku is just a hostage. A pawn in Kaoru and Shiki's psychological battle. It was unexpected, and very cool.
Shiki isn't nobly sacrificing herself. Oh no. She protects Saku and she decides to kill her husband on her own. She doesn't want to involve the innocent man she's falling for.
Kaoru shocks her when he installs security cameras inside. He brings out a leg restraint, and he says they will be happy together...forever.
She pulls a knife on him, and it ends up in her stomach.
Kaoru is unnaturally prepared, and experienced with violence. As a reader I started to question his family business. Kaoru can't be some spoiled model agency heir. He's just too good at fighting...
Shiki doesn't stop trying, no matter how crazy the battle gets. If Kaoru won't divorce her she'll kill him. The issue is he doesn't care at all. If she doesn’t love him he'll earn her love back. Saku is just an obstacle that will fall before him, because he always gets his way. This is his love. He will spend the rest of his life showing his wife how much he loves her....through violence.
That's how his family raised him, so it has to be real love.
Right?
Shiki and Saku get dragged into Kaoru's forest mansion. The apartment he owns with Shiki is just their love nest. His real playground is huge, and it's staffed by criminals. People who accept his orders because nobody else hires criminals.
Shiki convinces the butler and the head maid.
Violent love will never be enough.
Kaoru will kill her if they don't help her.
The butler seems to believe love will prevent her death, but Shiki convinces him to see reason. Eventually, all of the wounds will catch up to her. Head trauma. Infections. His torturous love will end her eventually, after years of total agony.
The butler sees sense first. Then the maid. Even still Kaoru is ridiculously strong, smart and scary. He's not easy to beat, even with allies.
There's a second wedding, and the mansion goes up in flames AND HE STILL DOESN'T DIE!
He starts to beg for Shiki's love, after he finally notices he lost her to Saku. Somehow the violence escalates even more.
Shiki starts to pity her broken husband.
I think he might end up in a mental hospital, with pictures of Shiki and occasional visits from her or something? Then we'll see her enjoying life with Saku.
I do want Kaoru to die, but like ten chapters were dedicated to his sad backstory sooooooo....
#yandere#male yandere#yandere male#yandere boy#recommendations#recs#rec#recommended#Second Time's the Crime
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So I’m a HUGE fan of angst. With Joe’s temper and with being unhinged from the war, any kind of physical affection can get a little rough. 😈 I feel like it’s totally his style and everyone needs to know it. Frienemies to lovers with angst and classy smut and a happily ever after is how we all deserve Joe Liebgott. 😘🥰 🪖♠️ 🦅
Oil and water - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+ content, smut (p in v), fingering, angry sex to soft sex, mentions of violence and war/death, cursing, 1st person POV (female), female body part descriptions.
A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.
A/N pt 2: I had so much fun with this request and wrote this faster than any of my other fics! I hope you like it, @she-wolf09231982lovely, and that I did it justice!! Please let me know what you think and if you want a different one done if I didn't quite hit the points you wanted. As always, feel free to leave comments, likes, and reblogs; they make me happy! :)
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Another punch echoes in the room, followed by more yelling. The man sitting in the chair can barely open his eyes as blood covers his entire face. I try to find any sense of morality and sympathy but come up with nothing. He's a replacement that got drunk, killed two German's and shot Chuck Grant in the head before stealing a car and trying to hide. He'd yet to show any type of remorse for his actions and the men around me were getting closer and closer to doling out their own personal justice.
Everyone got quiet and backed out of the way when Spiers came in like a dark thundercloud and hit the man across the face. In the blink of an eye, he had a gun pointed right at the man's face and just held it there. My stomach dropped and I glanced over at Liebgott next to me, but his face was dark and unfazed. Spiers would probably kill this man and no one was going to bat an eye. This was wrong. The war is over and we are still losing our friends and companions.
After a long, tense moment Spiers lowers his gun and commands us to take the man to the MP's. As he's walking away I hear him tell Tab that Grant is going to pull through, thanks to a Kraut doctor. For the first time since this night started I feel like I can breathe a little. I follow the rest of my company into the street as we follow Spiers' orders. Suddenly a scuffle erupts and our prisoner has briefly broken free from the group and is trying to run away.
I'm the closest to him and immediately run and tackle him to the ground. As I'm attempting to get him flipped around and restrained, he elbows me hard in the gut knocking the air out of me. As I'm trying to catch my breathe, a pair of arms lifts me up and I'm being pulled away from the group. Someone is steering me to an empty house and all I can hear is more yelling and fighting behind us.
Once we are inside and seating in someone's abandoned house on a couch, I look up to see who I'm with. Liebgott. To say I'm shocked is an understatement. We only look out for each other during battle, because that's our job and we are soldiers. The only times we semi get along is when we are around our friends and can use them as buffers. It's been a running joke through Easy that we are oil and water and should never be left alone together because we'd both end up dead. Now here we are totally alone and emotions are running off the rails.
"You hurt?" His face is stone cold and his voice is almost filled with disgust, like he was forced to look after me and didn't put himself in this situation.
"I'm fine. You can go." I bite out, wincing as I press on the tender spot.
"Stop being such an uptight bitch. Let me look." Liebgott rolls his eyes as he moves my hands away and lifts up my shirt. I glare at him and then glance down. The spot is a deep red and I can see spots where my blood vessels have burst. It's gonna be a hell of a bruise soon.
"Okay, you got to lift my shirt up. Good job. Go away." I shift out of his hold and cover my torso again. His glare hardens on me.
"What's your fucking problem?"
Scoffing, I jump up and pace a little ways away. "We just beat a fellow soldier bloody and Spiers almost shot him right in front of us. He deserves to be punished for what he did, but we can't start taking justice into our own hands. That's now who we are!"
"Spiers should have killed him. Grant is our friend. If anyone should give that punishment, it should have been one of us." His voice is cold and detached. We were never best friends, but it hurts a part of my heart to hear how this war has been changing him.
"Of course you would say that." I laugh humorlessly and spin to face him. He jumps up from the couch and stomps over to get in my face.
"What's that mean?"
"I heard about your little road trip the other day. I know shit's been different since Landsberg, but that's no excuse to go hunting people down and playing judge, jury, and executioner." I straighten my back and stand still as he leans further into my face. He's never focused so much anger towards me before but I'll be damn if I show any type of reaction to it.
"You don't know fucking shit. How can you? It's not your people that's been tortured and killed this whole war. Now why don't you go bat your pretty little eyes at someone who cares what you think and leave me the fuck alone."
Before I know it, I'm pushing him away from me. Hard. He takes half a step back and continues to glare at me. So I do it again, and again, until I'm beating at his chest with my fists. I'm so angry and he's the perfect target to let it out on. In the blink of an eye he has my hands in a death grip in one of his and is pushing me backwards with his other hand on my waist. He holds my hands above my head as my back hits a wall and keeps his hand on my waist.
I'm not sure who moves their head first, all I know is that we meet in the middle and it's not a kind or tender kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and biting. Neither of us want to submit so we keep at it until we are breathless and our lips are bruised. He releases my hands, which immediately fly to his hair to pull hard enough to make him wince, and places his newly open hand around my throat. When he applies pressure, I moan and press myself closer to him. A flash of something other than anger moves across his eyes; lust.
"You going to be a good girl and take what I give you?" His voice is low and rough. I feel myself clench around nothing. Never one to be agreeable with him, I just smirk.
"Fuck you." Joe just smirks back and shoves his hand that was on my waist down my pants and under my underwear.
"Feels like that's what you want." He watches my face as his fingers glide through my soaked folds, parting them to rub directly on my clit. Another moan escapes me but is cut short by his hand squeezing my neck again. "Eyes on me."
I open my mouth to say something flippant back but only a gasp comes out when I feel him shove two fingers inside me and start pumping them in and out. The hand on my neck alternates between squeezes and lightly stroking my skin. I keep my eyes on his face, taking in how clenched his jaw is and the way his pupils are blown wide. Another moan comes out when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.
He shifts closer to me, angling his hand so he can keep hitting that spot and rub my clit at the same time. His face stops when our lips are a hairs breathe away.
"That's my good girl. Take it." He places a soft kiss against my lips that's such a sharp contrast to the pressure on my neck and movement of his hand inside me. Joe leans his forehead against mine and keeps repeating his previous words as my orgasm gets closer and breaks through so hard I see stars.
As my vision starts to return I hazily watch him bring his soaked hand up to his mouth. The moan he lets out after tasting me is sinful and has me clenching again. When he's done, I pull his head back to mine, kissing and licking his lips begging for entrance. My own moan comes out when he opens his mouth and I taste myself on his tongue. Suddenly we are a blur of moving limps as we dispose of our clothes, not caring where they land and move back to the couch. We land with him on top of me and I roll my hips up to feel his erection slip through my folds.
Just as his tip slips in, Joe freezes above me and time stops. He's got one hand holding my thigh up around his waist and the other is on the arm of the couch, keeping him hovering over me. He trails his hand from my thigh, up my side, over my breast and up to cup my cheek. Our breathing slows down as we just look at each other, his hand holding my face like I might break if he's not careful. I run my own hand up his back and cup his cheek in the same fashion, gently pulling him towards me.
"Are you sure?" He whispers against my lips, eyes searching mine. They're softer now, the anger having melted away and now there's an open rawness in its place. I nod my head and whisper a soft 'yes' as I pull him into our first slow kiss of the evening.
Carefully, he pushes himself inside me and pauses again when he's bottomed out and our hips are flush against each other. We exchange more slow kisses and when I gently nip his lip, he knows it's okay to start moving. Once he sets the pace, slow, thorough and unrushed, we know this isn't just a simple fuck. Neither of us speak, just let ourselves get lost in the feelings as we moan and gasp against each others lips. As I start to clench around him signaling the approach of my second orgasm, I moan his name. Joe picks up the pace, some of the earlier frenzy returning as he focuses on pushing me over the edge again.
All I can keep saying is his name and after a few more thrusts, I'm seeing stars for the second time that night. I feel his thrusts become uneven as he chases his own release, moans flying out of his mouth. When he cums, he presses himself as far into me as he can and says my name like a prayer against my lips. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
Once we've stabled our breathing a little, we shift around so we are laying more comfortably on the couch, him still half inside me, completely entangled together. Joe leans up just enough to pull a blank from the back of the couch over us and tucks me back in against him. It's silent as we enjoy the afterglow and feel of each others skin.
"Did I hurt you?" Joe whispers, kissing the top of my head. I smile and kiss his chest.
"No more than I wanted you to." We share a small laugh. "I thought oil and water could never mix."
Joe pulls back enough to look at my face, "I don't think we are oil and water. I think we are something that can't be defined." He drops a kiss on my lips and then lays back down. "Now, get some sleep. We are going for breakfast tomorrow and then wherever you wanna go for the whole day."
I fall asleep with a smile on my face, not knowing he does too.
#joe liebgott#joe liebgott x reader#band of brothers#band of brothers fanfic#band of brothers request#fanfic request#hbo war#hbo band of brothers
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Gilded Family
Rating: Teen and Up, Gen
Ch 39/39: Closure
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36, Ch 37, Ch 38, Ch 38.5
An alternate universe in which Evelyn managed to save Caleb after his confrontation with Phillip. The two of them escaped to present day through time pools, and have been using time pools to secretly rescue grimwalkers just after Belos attempts to kill them. The story follows Darius' mentor as he adjusts to his new life, as well as changes to the course of canon.
Ao3
Xxx
“I don’t know about this.”
Cyrus tried to turn around, but A.T. caught his shoulders, turning him around, and Phoenix gave him a push towards the townspeople cleaning up wreckage and graffiti. Most importantly, towards the blue demon boy stabilizing a broken wall.
“Do you like him, or no?”
“I mean, yes,” Cyrus replied, “But we went on one sort-of date ages ago, before everything went screwy! What if he doesn’t like me anymore? What if he doesn’t even remember it?”
“You were halfway through a date before you were suddenly interrupted and dragged off by your family, and then a wild witch showed up and was chased through the streets,” A.T. reminded him, “How could he forget that date?”
“Yes, but what if the whole concealment stone thing drives him away? What if—if—”
“What if he’s got terrible amnesia?” A.T. suggested, “What if he’s got a new boyfriend? What if I unhinge my jaw and swallow him whole before you have the chance to speak to him?”
“What?” Phoenix and Cyrus asked in unison.
“Exactly, it’s all impossible. Go talk to him.”
Cyrus didn’t look too convinced, but he also seemed too startled by A.T.’s statement to protest, and made his way towards his one-time date. He waved awkwardly, saying something Phoenix couldn’t hear. The demon left his work, dusting his hands off, and tilting his head in a question. Cyrus pulled out his concealment stone, put it on, transformed, then took it off when his partner’s eyes lit up with recognition. He put the stone back in his pocket, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“I’m actually super terrible for lying and you should never even look at me again,” A.T. mimed in a terrible imitation of Cyrus—a truly impressive feat, given how much his natural voice already sounded like their sibling. “I don’t think I’m worth it, even though I totally deserve a spectacular boyfriend!” He switched his voice to a lower pitch when the demon spoke up. A.T. even imitated his tentative hand one Cyrus’ arm.
“Wow, you look so much better without the concealment stone! Let’s get married forever!”
“I don’t think that’s what he’s saying.”
“Could be. You don’t know.”
Cyrus said something else, glancing back at A.T. and Phoenix. A.T. waved when the demon looked over, but the demon barely seemed to see him, his eyes latching onto Phoenix and sparking with something that was almost recognition, but fogged over by confusion.
Right. I ran into him when he was a puppet.
Phoenix wondered how many other former puppets would look at him with that unease, that sense of not quite remembering why he made them uncomfortable, but knowing somewhere in their unconscious mind that he’d played with the Collector, stood by while they were paraded around helplessly.
But Cyrus’ date shook himself, waved back at A.T., and turned back to Cyrus, enthusiastically explaining the work he was doing with a lot of arm waving. Cyrus went along with him, a small, happy smile blooming on his face.
“Aw, well, that’s sweet.” A.T. tugged his hair. “Boy, this place looks different. I hope they don’t rebuild it the exact same. I’d like to see something new.”
“Well, for one thing, there won’t be specialized cells for wild witches,” someone said behind them, “Thank the titan for that.”
A short witch grinned at them. She looked familiar, but Phoenix couldn’t quite place why until she nodded at an alleyway. “Seems like just yesterday you lot helped me out of here, and now, well, I’m back! This time without the chasing, hopefully. Where’s your little friend, the one with the jokes? And the older one?”
“Oh!” Phoenix blurted out. “The witch at the coven day—hey! You made it past the day of unity?”
“Mhm. One of the Collector’s little spies picked me up later, but I’m back now. You would not believe all the apologies I’ve been getting. It’s going to go to my head if I’m not careful. Maybe I should set some scaffolding on fire and give them a new reason to chase me out of town, for old times’ sake. Or at the least to test how far their ‘we’re so sorry, wild witches were right’ sentiments go.”
A.T. reached into his pocket and wordlessly held out a box of matches.
“Did you just have those on you?” Phoenix asked.
“You never know when you’ll have to light a fire,” A.T. remarked serenely, “Just ask Frank.”
The wild witch barked a laugh. “I like you. I’m Annette Thompson; what do they put on your wanted posters?”
A.T.’s face burst into a wide grin. “Matching initials!”
“What’s yours stand for, then?”
“I’ve been told not to ask,” Phoenix told her.
“Oh, a mystery?”
A.T. wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “One that is unlocked after we light enough fires together.”
Annette laughed again. “I suppose we better start, then.”
“Please don’t light anything too important on fire,” Phoenix called desperately after them, “Or better yet—no fires!”
Cyrus jogged over just as A.T. and Annette disappeared into the construction. “I think I need to quit distracting Raphael right now, but he told me when he gets off of construction work, and… where’s A.T. gone off to?”
“To light a fire? I think? He’s made a friend. Or… partner in crime? Possibly both.”
Alarm flashed across Cyrus’ face. “We should be worried, right? We should stop them? They’re just rebuilding.”
Phoenix waved a hand. “I’m sure it’s… fine. Ish.”
“Mm.” Cyrus squinted at the bustling streets. “I guess as long as he doesn’t light anything huge on fire in the middle of my second date.”
“On second thought, I think I’ll go find them.”
Xxx
“I’m leaving.”
Caleb glanced up at Joseph’s declaration, still mostly-engrossed in kneading bread dough for dinner. “Thanks for letting me know. What time do you think you’ll be back?”
“No, I mean, I’m leaving. To go do something else. I won’t be around for… I don’t know how long.”
Phoenix and Frank glanced at each other, but quietly kept chopping up vegetables, pretending they weren’t listening to every word.
“Oh.” Caleb struggled for words, finally managing a simple “I see.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Joseph said quickly. Despite the confidence he’d originally announced himself with, he brimmed with nervous energy, turning a loose griffin feather over and over in his hands, “I love you, and I love the family, and I’ll definitely come back to visit, I just think…” He took a deep breath. “I want to go somewhere else. I’ve been in the same place for so long—and before that, I was with Belos. Now that our home is gone, and we’re rebuilding, and everything is changing anyway… I want to go up to the hand.”
He waved his hands, his nervous energy transforming into excitement. “I mean—the arm is sticking straight up! It’s taller than the Knee now—there’s no telling how the ecosystem up there is going to shift. Plants are going to change to fit the new shape, and the animals are going to have to adapt—and I want to see it. I want to see all the new creatures this brings, I want to see how the old creatures adapt or move somewhere new, or just fail… and I just want to get out and see everything the Isles has. I want to study beasts where they are, out in their natural environments, and I can’t do that if I stay here. I need to go. Please.”
“Okay,” Caleb said slowly. He wiped flour off his hands. “You don’t need my permission, you know that, right?” A wobbly smile appeared on his face. “I gave all of you the choice to leave or stay, remember? I never said that choice had to be permanent.”
Joseph’s shoulders visibly sank in relief. “Thank you.”
“What about the griffins?” Frank asked, finally breaking the unspoken treaty of silence between he and Phoenix.
“I thought—” Joseph rubbed the back of his neck. “—that is—if it’s alright—I thought I’d take Lucy. That’ll make the space restraints with moving closer to town less of an issue. The other griffins I think will be alright as long as they’re fed and exercised, but Lucy… anyway, this—it means the world to me.”
Caleb gave him a small, sad smile. “Permission to…?”
Joseph grabbed Caleb in a bear hug, squeezing so tightly that Phoenix thought he heard Caleb’s back pop. “Thank you, Dad,” he mumbled, his voice thick, “Thank you for everything.”
Caleb hugged back just as tightly. “I’m going to miss you. But I hope wherever you go—I hope you’re happy. I hope you find what you’re looking for. I hope… I hope…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, instead giving Joseph one last squeeze and letting go.
“Say goodbye to your mom, too, okay?”
“Of course. And everyone—I wouldn’t just disappear. Of course not.”
Joseph wandered out of the kitchen, searching for Evelyn, and Caleb sat down with a whump.
“Are you okay?” Phoenix asked quietly.
He managed a tired smile. “Of course, of course. I always knew that someday… I mean, I hoped that one day the world would be safe enough for you. I think I always sort of knew that the house was too small, and that one day some of you might want to leave.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But I don’t believe any amount of time would have actually prepared me for it.”
Phoenix thought of the first time he’d seen Darius after Belos’ attack—how he’d suddenly looked so grown up, how the realization that he didn’t need a mentor anymore had punched him in the gut. “No,” he agreed, “I don’t think it would.”
Caleb took a deep breath. “Things are changing right now,” he admitted, “We’ve been… living in a bubble. The only surprises were when one of you would join the house. But now… now the world’s opened up to us, and nothing will be the same.” He gave Phoenix and Frank a tired smile. “At risk of sounding like my brother, I’m not quite sure I’m ready for the change.”
Frank chuckled. “Now you know how we felt when we woke up in a different century.” He shrugged and chopped furiously at the vegetables on the board. “Things are going to be different. But some things are going to be the same, like—” he yanked back from the cutting board with a short scream.
Phoenix dropped his knife, and Caleb jumped up immediately. “Are you okay?! Did you cut yourself?!”
“My arm!” Frank yelped, “I’ve chopped it in with the vegetables! I didn’t even notice! The whole thing’s gone!”
“Terrible,” Phoenix told him, picking his knife back up, “You are just awful.”
Frank grinned, cheerfully resuming his chopping. “And that is something you can count on never changing.
Xxx
The front of Darius’ house buzzed with activity. Lake and Locke even managed to drag Sam out, although he still fidgeted with that strange box Ghost had found. Joseph paced nervously back and forth, and Lucy eyed him like she might be on the verge of sitting on him. But despite the nervousness, the saddlebags on Lucy and the backpack on Joseph looked natural. Right, even. Even his clothes—he’d bundled up for the likely lower temperatures—seemed to fit him better. His eyes shone with a healthy, excited glow.
“I’ll miss you.”
Joseph tousled Jason’s hair, grinning when Jason pushed his hand away. “Don’t get too mopey over me, or Lucy might turn around midair just to squash you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come back soon, okay? I want to read about all the new things you find up there.”
“You’ll be the first to see the notes,” Joseph promised. He glanced over Jason’s head at Cherry. “Take care of them, yeah? Especially keep your eye on this one. He’s trouble. He’ll get another concussion if he can manage it.”
Jason stuck his tongue out.
“Always.” Cherry’s one eye flicked back and forth nervously, glancing up at the sky like he was hoping for some sudden terrible weather to appear and delay Joseph just a little longer. “Stay safe.
“Always,” Joseph echoed, “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.” He turned to Evelyn and Caleb. “Thank you.”
“You’ll always have a room with us,” Caleb told him, “You know that?”
“I know.”
Evelyn straightened his scarf. “Go find some new wild things. I just know you’ll figure out some way to befriend them.”
“Will do, ma’am.”
Joseph hugged Evelyn and Caleb, climbed on Lucy’s back, and clicked his tongue. The griffin sprang up into the air, her huge wings beating massive gusts of wind onto their heads. Soon, the two of them were just a speck in the sky, sailing towards the raised arm of the titan.
Xxx
“I can’t do it.”
Evelyn gave Auric a gentle shove towards Hexside’s doors. “Yes, you can.”
Auric scratched at the scars on his neck, balking. “I’m too old. Hexside stops at eighteen, and I’m twenty. They won’t let me.”
“I talked to Bump,” Phoenix reassured him, “He and I go back—and Darius talked to him about it, too. You’re not going to be a regular student, no, but the healing teacher agreed to take you on after school, and help you transition into healing-specific schools for graduates. Like an apprenticeship.”
“I don’t have magic,” Auric replied, changing tack, “I can’t do the kinds of… I can’t do it. I’m never going to be as good as them, so—”
“Hey,” Evelyn said sharply, “Who kept Caleb and I from bleeding out?”
“You would have died without the pain sharing spell, I—”
“Who patched up all the refugees when I couldn’t heal anyone?” Evelyn demanded.
“Those weren’t life-threatening injuries, it wasn’t even—”
“You splinted and casted Clara’s broken bone and kept her cheerful,” Phoenix offered, “You were the first one to realize something was wrong with my arms.”
“You stitched Matt up when he came home injured,” Evelyn added, “Face it, Auric—you’re as good a healer as anyone. Magic or no. Magic healers have it easy—we draw a circle, and the wound disappears. But you? You have to put so much thought into what you’re doing, and you have to do it quick. You are incredible, Auric.”
Auric scratched at his neck again. “I’m just not sure.”
“If you really don’t want to do this, then we can go back home,” Evelyn said softly, “But I want you to look me in the eye and tell me with absolute certainty, that going to healing school is something you don’t want.”
Auric took a step back, then a step forward, hovering between Evelyn and the door. “You think I’ll really be able to do it?”
“Would I have put my life in your hands if I wasn’t absolutely certain?”
Auric took a deep breath, taking a decisive step towards Hexside’s doors. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Xxx
“Hey! Over here!”
A hand closed around Phoenix’s arm, pulling him into the empty kitchen. “Phoenix.” Matt laced his fingers together. “You were part of the emperor’s coven when it was actually, you know, a coven.”
Phoenix winced at the reminder. What was this about? “Yes?”
“So you were around a lot of people.”
Where was he going with this? “Yeeessss?”
“Do you know how to plan a party.”
Phoenix stared at him. “What.”
“A party. Do you know how to plan one? Cyrus and I were in town, and his boyfriend invited him to a housewarming party for one of the newly rebuilt houses—well, he invited me, too, but that was just to be polite, I’m not going. Anyway, the point is, I think a housewarming party sounds nice. We could have one for our house, once we’ve actually built it. It would be…” Matt waved a hand. “You know. A normal thing.”
“A normal thing,” Phoenix echoed.
“Something other people do. I think it might help us settle into the town better, you know? Break some of the tension.”
“Have you run this by Caleb and Evelyn yet?”
“I sort of wanted to surprise them. I’ll warn everyone else, of course, but if we’re going to get anywhere with this, first I need someone who can actually plan a party.”
“A party?” Like the word had summoned him, Darius seemed to materialize behind Phoenix. He arched one eyebrow at Matt. “And you asked Phoenix to help plan it?”
“Hey, I planned social functions.”
“The very fact that you just called a party a social function is proof that you aren’t up to the task. What party?”
Matt explained his plan, and Darius nodded slowly. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Who would you invite?”
“You, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“Um… Cyrus’ boyfriend Raphael? Maybe that woman A.T. started hanging out with… I bet Jason will want to invite the kids. I guess we could invite the refugees who stayed with us, if anyone knows where they went.” Matt scratched the back of his head. “Do we know anyone else??
“Oh, titan,” Darius murmured under his breath.
“Eda and Lilith,” Phoenix volunteered, “Eber. I think that’s everyone.”
“Small party,” Darius commented.
“There’s over twenty of us, any party we host is already huge.”
“Fair enough.” Darius twirled a finger in the air. “If you’re after goodwill from the townsfolk, shouldn’t you invite some of them? Other than Cyrus’ boyfriend, that is.”
Matt winced. “Inviting strangers isn’t the best plan. I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but most of us aren’t exactly the trusting, openly friendly type.”
“I had noticed something of the sort, believe it or not,” Darius said dryly, “Why don’t you go people watch? Pick guests you don’t find threatening. People who aren’t likely to cause friction, accidentally or on purpose.”
“Reconnaissance. We can do that.”
Darius squeezed his eyes shut. “Reconnaissance. Oh, heavens. Please take Jason with you.”
Xxx
“Not that one. Not that one. Ooo, that one gave me an apology basket, let’s invite him.”
Phoenix glanced over at Annette. “You don’t have to help us.”
“Hey, if they’re not friendly towards a wild witch, they won’t be friendly towards your lively bunch either. My insight is incredibly valuable.”
“Hm.”
“Now might be a good time to test that elixir,” Jason commented mildly.
Phoenix glanced down at his arms. Matt had chosen the top a construction crane, of all places, to people-watch from. It had been a miracle—and Annette’s magic—that he’d gotten up here in the first place. And being out in the town without a concealment stone… it made his skin itch. The curse shifted uneasily, reacting to the stress. It was so ridiculous it almost made him laugh; he’d gotten through the Collector’s “games, the apocalypse, and attempted possession, but being up a little too high and getting a little stressed was making the curse react?
“Here goes nothing.” Phoenix tilted the golden bottle back. Eda had warned him not to let it sit in his mouth, but she hadn’t prepared him for the explosion of terrible flavors that washed over his tongue. He swallowed with a gag. “Tastes like burned animal hair,” he said with a grimace.
“But look.” Jason pointed at his arms. The curse settled back into his normal flesh. He could still feel it curled up inside of him, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, but it seemed… passive. Dormant. Almost like it was taking a nap. Some of the bone-weary exhaustion that seemed to stay no matter how long he slept faded into a background numbness.
“Huh. I guess… I’ll be asking Lilith for her recipe.”
“You think it’ll help long-term?”
Phoenix shrugged. “I know the curse has been useful sometimes, but… it’s a little hard on my arms.” He flexed his fingers, wondering at the difference that slight lift from exhaustion had made. “And I’m starting to think it might have been taking up a little more of my energy than I realized.”
Jason nudged his shoulder. “Sam could have told you that.”
“Yeah, yeah. He’d probably love to run a thousand tests on my day-to-day fatigue levels with and without elixirs.”
“Nah, he’s too busy with that box. Potion-brewing lessons for Phoenix, then. Mom will be ecstatic.” Jason kicked his legs aimlessly, watching the people down below. “You guys ever think about what you want to do now that we’re not on the run?”
“Mix as many kinds of magic together as I can,” Annette answered immediately, “Let’s test the ‘wild magic is dangerous’ theory. I bet some of it could be.”
“Oh, wow, you and A.T. really are perfect for each other. Matt?”
“Something normal.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I don’t know. I just want to live a normal life. Make some friends. Get a job. Maybe fall in love, start a family. Do something stupid and young.” Matt shrugged. “I lost my childhood and my teen years to Belos. Everything was one nonstop, horrifying adventure. Everything was some grand purpose. I kind of want to just have a boring life now.”
He heaved a sigh. “I had a choice, you know? Belos just sort of ditched me in the middle of the boiling sea, so when Caleb found me, I was dehydrated and exhausted, but not… dying. I chose to go with Caleb forward in time. I thought if Belos was already destined to be alive for centuries, there wouldn’t be any escaping him in my time. Now that we’ve actually finally gotten away from him… I just want to leave all that behind.”
Matt gave them all a quick smile. “Not that I’d leave the family behind, of course! I still want to be with you guys, I just…” He fell into a pensive silence, staring out at the people below. “I don’t know. I guess Joseph wasn’t the only one with an itch to get out there. This party, getting our foot in the door and helping Mom and Dad get back in the social life of the Isles… it just feels like the right thing to do before going. Not that I’d leave right after. I still don’t have any solid plans. But someday.”
Phoenix didn’t respond. He didn’t know how. It had been enough of a shock when Joseph had left. He’d known, of course, that things would change. Phoenix himself wouldn’t even be at the house on weekends anymore. But between Joseph leaving, Matt’s plan, Auric’s apprenticeship, and the appearance of new people in Cyrus and A.T.’s lives… everything was moving so fast. Maybe they’d stopped running for their lives, but their lives still kept running. He’d barely had the time to get used to the quiet life in the woods before it was completely overturned.
“Wow,” Jason said finally, “Have you told Mom or Dad yet? What about Ash?”
“I don’t want to spring this on them right now. I mean, with the house building, and everyone still healing, and Joseph just leaving… it’s not right. I don’t have a solid plan, and even if I left right after the party, that’s still months of house-building away.” Matt brushed his hair out of his face. “So… don’t tell anyone just yet, yeah?
“My lips are sealed,” Jason promised. He pointed down at the street. “That one, Annette, they stopped to feed a stray, put them on the list.” He sighed. “Wish I had a plan.”
Phoenix ruffled his hair. “You’re eighteen. Give yourself a minute.”
Jason pushed at his hand. “Hunter has it all figured out, and he’s only sixteen! He already knows he’s going to be a palisman carver!”
“You’re not Hunter. Most of us don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t. Eda offered the idea of mentoring, but I don’t know if I’ll take it.”
Jason looked up at him with big, sparkling eyes. “Awwwwwwwww, but you’d be so good at it!”
“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. Nice try.”
“Hey, I meant it. I wasn’t just trying to distract you.”
“Sure. Anyway, take it slow. Joseph knew what he wanted. Matt kind of knows what he wants. But you don’t have to have your whole life figured out just yet. I mean, everyone on the Isles is a bit displaced right now. There are tons of scouts who have no idea what they’re going to do with their lives now. Everyone’s shaken by what happened and wondering what we’ll do without the covens. So just… take it easy. Forget your entire future, let’s plan small. What do you want to do in the next few weeks?”
“Hm. I sort of want to go back to the human realm. Visit Camila. Maybe go back to the library there. Oh—and I want to take Novus. Phoenix, they have so much mechanical stuff there. I think he’ll explode. And I want to help look for where we’ll build the new house. Of course I’m going to help Matt with his guest list and party planning. And… why are you grinning like that?”
“No reason,” Phoenix said lightly, “It just sounds to me like you’ve got plenty of plans for the future.”
Jason wrinkled his nose at Phoenix. “Alright, point taken. But hey, there goes my point. You’re a great mentor.”
“Thanks.” Phoenix tousled Jason’s hair again. This time, he let him.
Xxx
Caleb eyed Phoenix critically. “You’re supposed to be resting your leg.”
He was, in fact, supposed to be sitting back at Darius’ house doing nothing, but Darius had left to deal with some Terra sighting, and almost everyone else was out close to their old home scouting for a new place to build. The whole place had been quiet, except for occasional mutterings from Sam while he fruitlessly searched for a way to open that stone box.
Phoenix sighed. “If I’m stuck sitting around resting my leg for five more minutes, the curse is going to take over from boredom and I’m going to run back into the woods.”
Caleb blinked twice. “Could that actually happen? Your curse activating from boredom, I mean?”
“I doubt it. Besides, I took an elixir today, it should be fine. I won’t move too much, I promise. I’ll find a spot to sit around out here. I just needed to get out.”
“Did you tell Sam you were leaving?”
“He’s not going to look up from that box for at least another twelve hours. He won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“He should just pour some explosive potion on that box and be done with it,” Novus suggested as he walked by, arms full of levels and angle-measurers, “Or cut into it. That’s the pragmatic thing to do.”
Caleb laughed. “It’s not about getting what’s inside for him, it’s about solving the puzzle. If he gives up, then I’ll let you at it with your tools.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“Anyway—you’re probably right, Phoenix, but still.”
“If Sam figures out I’m gone, he’ll probably just shrug and go back to the box. I don’t think he’s desperate to always have someone around. Unless he solves the box, in which case, he’ll tear over here immediately and demand to know why I wasn’t there to witness his moment of triumph.” Phoenix sat down on a log with a sigh. “I messaged Darius to tell him where I was going. Hopefully that’s enough.”
“Hopefully.”
Caleb wandered off, apparently satisfied that Phoenix wouldn’t rebreak his ankle. Phoenix sat on the stump watching his family. Novus kept laying out string where the house would be, testing different spots with his tools, while Lake casually picked the rope up and moved it just a couple inches to the left whenever he wasn’t looking. Matt wrote furiously in a small notebook—party plans, if Phoenix had to guess. Evelyn drew small circles, testing out her construction magic. Everywhere bustled with movement. If someone wasn’t actively making house plans, they were transporting construction materials, or overseeing everyone else.
“They don’t know how to sit still, do they?” Alex plopped down next to Phoenix. “Neither do you.” They shrugged. “I guess it’s good when we’re trying to build a house. What do you think they’ll find to do afterwards?”
“What do you mean?”
Alex gestured at the busy family. “When the house is finished, what do you think they’ll do? What will you do? None of us are good at stopping and staying still for a moment. We just keep going and going and going. So what are we supposed to do once we finish building the new house?”
“We just… live in it, I guess,” Phoenix answered slowly.
“Hm.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do?”
Alex shrugged. “Keep my feet on the ground, that’s the only thing I know for sure. Stay away from heights.”
“Seconded. How are the falling dreams? Have they gotten any better?”
“Careful, you sound like Dad.”
“Sorry, I just… you know, I don’t think I ever thanked you.”
“For what?”
“When you told me where you died—that’s how we found Ghost. So… thank you.”
“Oh. You’re welcome.” Alex went very still, staring pointedly at anything but Phoenix. “Hey, can I ask you something? And… do you promise not to tell anyone what I said?”
“Sure. But, uh… why me?” Surely there were other grimwalkers Alex was closer to. Phoenix had only ever spoken to them the once.
Alex eyed him critically. “Because you’re the only one who backed off, no questions asked, when I told you I just wanted space to process. I don’t know, I feel like I can trust you to understand. Um. Do you think it would be weird if I moved out of the house really soon?”
The question shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. Joseph had already left, and Matt was planning on it—the moving fever was contagious. But still, Phoenix flinched at the idea of one more grimwalker leaving. “Well,” he said carefully, “I don’t think it would be… I mean, Joseph already broke the ice on that one.”
“I know.” Alex combed their fingers through their hair. “But Joseph was… Joseph. He was big. He was determined. He was capable of wrestling beasts and winning. He… well, he didn’t have a panic attack every time he tripped. What if Mom and Dad don’t think I’m ready?”
“They’ll let you anyway.”
“Right. But would it be weird? I mean, we’re building this house together, and then I… I wouldn’t be in it. They’d build a room for me, for what? For me to leave right after? I don’t want them to think I’ve wanted to leave this whole time and was just waiting for the all-clear.”
“Well, why do you want to leave?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why do you want to leave? Because you want space?”
“Oh. Yes. Something like that.” Alex twisted their hair and let it go. “Time. And space. And I love Mom and Dad and everyone, don’t get me wrong, they’re just… sometimes a little much. So. Um.” Alex gestured towards the town. “You know. Maybe I’ll leave. But I don’t want it to be…”
“Awkward?”
“Yes.”
“You should talk to them about it. I know that’s not your strong suit, but… give it a shot?”
“They’re busy right now.”
Phoenix watched as Novus gestured to Evelyn. She drew one glowing finger in a wide circle, and huge stone walls rose out of the ground where he’d laid out string, her eyes on his blueprints. Her free hand directed another circle, and abominations sludged their way towards the neat piles of tiles, shingles, glass panes, scooping them up and using the stone walls as a base to build windows and roofs.
“Not for long.”
Xxx
“Wow.” Phoenix’s voice echoed in the empty space. He hadn’t realized how everything in the old house had muffled sound until he stood in the empty rooms Evelyn had built. “This took two days?”
“And Evelyn will be passed out for about five,” Caleb said disapprovingly, “I wish she’d taken it slower.”
Lake bounced down a set of stairs, each footstep echoing off the walls and turning into a marching army. “Is Sam getting two rooms again? Because he’s already claimed one of the empty ones up there for his lab.”
“Oh, no,” Novus said casually, “I gave the house a couple of extra rooms for Ghost and Hunter, but I’m taking over the lab space for my work. Machinery will be far more useful than the glyphs now.” He laughed at Caleb’s stricken face. “I’m joking. There’s enough rooms for both. He can have a lab.”
Lake tilted their head. “Seems kinda… bare.”
“We’ll paint the walls,” Caleb promised. He moved through the space with a twinkle in his eye. “The kitchen will be here. Dining room right next to it, of course. What do you guys think of getting a family picture? I’ve always wanted one.”
“What about Achsah’s room?”
Caleb froze.
Lake scratched the back of their neck. “I mean… we saved some of her stuff. Some of the photographs were okay. We could try to set it all up again. But it won’t really be her room anymore. We’ll just be recreating it. Is that something you and Mom want?”
It was like in the absence of Locke, or Sam to bother, Lake had lost their usual goofy demeanor. Phoenix had never seen them be serious for more than two seconds—to drop this reminder on Caleb shocked Phoenix almost as much as it did their ortet.
“Um,” Caleb said in a strangled whisper, “I don’t know. I don’t…”
The kitchen and dining room area held a startling similarity to the old house—Novus had probably designed it that way on purpose. Caleb turned and wandered, half dazed, into the room that would have been Achsah’s back at home.
Lake watched him go passively. “That went well. Do you want to check out the rest of the house? Novus put a state of the art hidden room behind the dining room. The wall slides out and everything.”
“You’re not going to go check on him?”
“Nah, he needs a second by himself.”
Lake wandered through the empty halls, and Phoenix followed. “I don’t get it.”
“Don’t get what?”
Phoenix struggled for a moment to find the right words. “Why you?” he said finally.
“Because Cherry already took one for the team and yelled at Dad for sacrificing himself.”
“Really? That’s it?”
Lake shrugged. “Locke and I overheard Cherry and Novus talk about it when they first showed us the plans—you know how we like to lurk. Lurking is our favorite. Anyway, Cherry told Novus to just leave it in the plans, and we’d get there later, but, well, like I said, Cherry already did the lecture. Someone else’s turn to be the bearer of unwanted news.” Lake blew a strand of hair out of their face. “Would have loved for it to be Sam, Mr. Logic of Logics, but, well.”
They opened a door. Sure enough, Sam had claimed a space for a lab. Right now, he sat on the floor, twisting pieces of the box. He looked up.
“The box is a gridded cube!” he called excitedly, “Jason has compared it to something in the human realm called a ‘rubik’s cube’ and promised to find me one whenever he next visits. I just have to find the right combination…”
Lake closed the door. “You see the problem. Anyway, Locke and I rock-paper-scissors over it, which he ALWAYS wins, you would not BELIEVE how effective it is when he yells out his choice after I’ve already put my hand out. So I was Mr. Logic of Logics today.” They scratched the back of their head. “Not my favorite of jobs. I tried to channel Sam energy, how’d I do?”
Phoenix shook his head. “How do you do that?”
“What, channel Sam energy? It’s very easy, I just think ‘books, books, books’ in my head over and over again until I’m sufficiently stuffy and sneezing out big words.”
“No, I mean you and Locke—how do you stay so…”
“Charming?”
“…upbeat,” Phoenix finished.
Lake shook their head sadly. “It’s all a coping mechanism, we’re so sad and we cover it up with jokes so that no one will see the empty pit of despair welling up inside.” They grinned, immediately dispelling any thought Phoenix might have had that they were being serious. “Look, Phoenix. You just have to stop taking everything so seriously. We beat Belos! We survived! You’re on track for managing your curse! We’re building a great big house! We fought hard. Now enjoy the spoils.”
Loud banging echoed through the house, metal on wood. Lake glanced at an imaginary watch. “It appears to be checking on Dad o’clock.”
Caleb had left “Achsah’s” room. Instead, he sat in the empty place where the kitchen would be, building a table. He gave Phoenix a cheerful grin. “Been a while since I’ve done any woodworking.”
“You seem… chipper,” Phoenix said cautiously.
“Oh, for Titan’s sake, I can’t do this,” Lake whispered under their breath. They disappeared, and came back with Sam. “Go,” they ordered, pointing him towards Caleb.
Sam blinked, as if disoriented by how fast Lake had separated him from the cube and dragged him here. “Nice table. Avoiding our problems again?”
“I’m not avoiding anything. We need furniture if we’re going to live in this house. I’m solving problems.”
“Very reasonable,” Sam agreed, “How about that problem of Achsah’s room?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Phoenix sighed. This was going nowhere. “Are you okay?” he asked Caleb, “I know this can’t be easy. I know how much keeping her room meant to you.”
Caleb’s hand shook on his hammer. “I knew she wasn’t coming back. I mean, Eda and Lilith existing made that painfully clear. I guess I just hoped… But Lake’s right, aren’t they? It’s not her room anymore. The room’s gone, she’s gone…”
“It’s not wrong to want a reminder,” Phoenix said quietly, “You don’t have to forget her.”
“I don’t think I ever could.”
“You don’t have to decide now,” Sam chimed in, “You can leave the room empty for now. Leave it for last. Besides, you should probably talk to Mom before making a decision.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Caleb gave the three of them a wan smile. “Thank you.”
“Except Lake for bringing it up,” Sam added.
“No. Lake, too.” Caleb took a deep breath. “I’ll think about it.”
He turned back to the table, but the hammering seemed less desperate now. Phoenix swung out at the obvious dismissal, followed closely by Lake.
“Nice handling,” Lake told him, “Next time, I’m leaving the hard discussions to you.”
“No, thanks. I’ve had enough difficult discussions recently, and I don’t need one more.”
Lake gave him a lopsided grin. “Loosen up, remember? Makes the hard stuff easier.”
They disappeared back up the stairs, leaving nothing behind but the echo of their footsteps.
Enjoy the spoils.
Phoenix took a deep breath, looking around the new house with a small smile. They still had plenty to worry about—making this place home, what to do about Achsah’s room, Matt’s upcoming plans—but for now… maybe Lake was right. Maybe it was time to let go.
Days blurred into weeks of painting and building, moving one room at a time. Kitchen and dining room first, so that they’d have somewhere to cook and eat. Caleb set chairs and tables he’d built in the dining room, beaming with pride. Then came the bathrooms, and the common rooms, and finally, Evelyn declared that they’d picked over the ruins enough, and they wouldn’t find anything else, so they might as well start on their rooms. Phoenix still made the commute back to Bonesborough every weekend to see Darius and catch up on the Isles-wide reconstruction efforts.
Phoenix stared at the blank canvas of his wall. While Jason lined his room with books, and Mole lovingly set potted plants, Phoenix sat on his bed, wishing he could do something besides paint. Even before the house had been destroyed, he hadn’t been there long enough to make the room his own—and the time he did get was so hectic, he wasn’t even sure he’d had anything in the house to salvage.
“Going for the minimalistic approach, are we?” Darius asked from the door.
“Darius!” Phoenix jumped up from the bed. The cast had been cut off yesterday, but his ankle was so weak it almost folded underneath him immediately. “Hey—what are you doing here?”
“Getting all the stuff out of my living room. And having a top secret meeting with Matt about his party. You know, I’m not entirely certain he’s separated the idea of a party from coven work.”
“That sounds right.” Phoenix waved a hand at the walls. “What do you think? Bright purple for the walls?”
“Don’t you dare.” Darius looked around the room. “I know just about everything of yours was confiscated when you… disappeared… so I thought… ah, just take it.”
He handed Phoenix a photograph in a simple wooden frame, a photo of he and Darius during the mentorship. Phoenix gently brushed one hand over his photographed face. He’d gotten so used to the scars from Belos’ attack that seeing this photograph without them now felt strange and foreign. His face looked so… young. But even with the great grin plastered across his face in the photo while he headlocked Darius, a tired sadness seemed etched in his face.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, “I don’t remember this being taken—where did you find it?”
“My memories,” Darius replied casually, “I had a copy made.” He sighed. “I know things weren’t rosy perfect back then. I know so much happened to you that I never saw. And I know—or at least I hope—we’re headed towards a better chapter of our life now. But don’t forget the last chapter, eh?”
Phoenix set the photograph up on the dresser, sweeping elixir bottles to the side. “Never. And—Darius? Thank you. For the photo. For letting us stay with you. For… everything.”
“Anytime. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a top secret party meeting I must attend. I believe we are discussing snacks.”
Xxx
“I see someone—wait, no, that’s just someone’s abomination that’s gotten loose.” Jason all-but had his face pressed against the glass of the front window, watching out for incoming guests. “They’ll come, right? I mean, of course our friends will show, but given that half the point is to get the townspeople used to the look-alike family that wandered out of the woods, we really need some people we don’t know.”
“I’m sure they will,” Phoenix assured him, but he watched equally carefully.
“Oh!” Jason yanked back from the window, opening the door and sprinting down the careful garden path, currently devoid of an actual garden. “Willow! Gus! Amity! Luz!” He bowed to Willow with a flourish. “Lord of Bats.”
She returned his over-the-top bow with one of her own. “House of Crows. How lovely to see you again.”
“It’s been three days,” Amity reminded them.
They both laughed, and Jason led the kids towards the door.
“Eda and Lilith are on their way with King,” Luz told Phoenix, “They’ll be here soon. I might take King home at some point, though. Don’t want him up too late and all.”
A loud gasp sounded from the path, and a witch from town clutched her chest. “I—I just thought I was meeting the new neighbors,” she stammered, “I didn’t know that Luz the human would be here—and did you say the owl lady was coming?”
“Yesssss?” Luz said uncertainly, as if unsure whether this information would scare the witch off or not.
“Oh. Oh, my. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
She dashed off back towards town, and Luz winced. “I think your guest list might have just gotten a bit bigger.”
That didn’t bode well. They’d kept the invitations small on purpose—not that anyone but Matt and Darius really knew who was coming, but still, Phoenix thought some of the others might notice if too many people showed up.
Eda, Lilith, and King arrived in a rush of feathers and a bag of elixirs pushed into Phoenix’s arms. He answered Lilith’s seemingly endless questions on their effects, wondering vaguely if anyone had warned Caleb and Evelyn they were coming, but mostly focused on the steady trickle of strangers now coming towards the house.
Caleb and Evelyn wandered into the living room, stopping dead when they spotted Lilith and Eda. Phoenix winced. Caleb didn’t look much like his descendants, but their resemblance to Evelyn was impossible to deny. He could practically see the wheels ticking in Eda’s head. But before she could say anything, the other guests reached the house and she was swept away in a tide of questions and admirations. Luz looked similarly swamped.
“Well, this wasn’t in the plans.” Matt stood on the stairs, chewing thoughtfully on a pen. “I should have guessed something would go wrong. I need to warn Silver.”
The mobs around Eda and Luz split into a third group, buzzing around Darius the moment he walked through the door. He arched one eyebrow at Matt, who winced and shrugged.
“Well, we’re getting a reputation for being well-connected,” Locke said at Phoenix’s elbow, “Fantastic, I’m sure this will hold no negative consequences.” He grinned. “We should invite celebrities over more often.”
Babble surrounded Phoenix as people slowly got over their star-struck awe and spread out. They stuck in small packs, townsfolk interacting with their neighbors, and grimwalkers talking to other grimwalkers. Both groups eyed each other uneasily, skirting around each other and only occasionally exchanging brief hellos and ‘excuse me’s.
“Ah, yes,” Locke deadpanned, “I can feel the house warming up already.” He stuck his nose into the air, shaking his head back and forth. “Can you feel that, Lake?”
As if summoned, Lake seemed to materialize at Phoenix’s other side. “No, Locke, what is it?”
“The tension! It’s so thick it’s starting to physically manife—”
Thump.
Muffled murmurs. Evelyn’s immediate sprint, pushing through guests and grimwalkers alike. “Give him space,” she ordered.
“Steven,” Jason breathed, “He’s having a seizure—we need to move everyone away, there’s not enough space.”
More murmurs and exclamations. Across the room, Silver’s face was as white as a sheet, and they beelined for the nearest window, opening it and oh-so-casually leaning against the sill, prepared to leap out, if Phoenix had to guess.
This is bad.
It didn’t take Darius, party expert extraordinaire, to know that. People flocked naturally to a disaster—they’d crowd Steven, stress Silver, and probably panic themselves, which would only—
“Well, I think it’s time to move this party outside!” Locke hopped up on the stairs, raising their voice, “Do we have any plant witches in attendance tonight?”
Willow raised her hand, and a few others tentatively joined her.
“Who feels like a seed race?”
“What’s that?” someone called.
“Only the best way for a plant witch to show off their magical prowess! Winner gets to take home a rare human realm plant known as ‘mint,’ proven to thrive even in the Isles!”
A few ‘ooo’s rose up, and witches started to wander outdoors. Cherry had quickly assembled a circle of grimwalkers around Steven and Evelyn, blocking them from view while guests went outside.
Willow hung back, raising one eyebrow at Locke. “A seed race, huh? How come I’ve never heard of that before?”
“Because I made it up just now. Mole, you’ve got some seeds, right? Where did you want some of the plants in the garden to go? I’ll make it look natural.”
Caleb slumped against the banister. “Thank you, Locke.” Behind him, Steven slowly sat up, watched by Evelyn like a hawk.
“Hey, it’s what I do. Be a loud and annoying distraction. Just ask Sam!” Locke grinned, bouncing out the door. “Alright, three categories: speed, size, and healthiness! Line up!”
Caleb sighed, joining Evelyn and Steven.
Eda nudged Phoenix. “Hey, introduce me to your planner. We’ve been scheming up a quinceañera party for Luz, and so far, this party’s been a riot.”
“Wish it was less of one.”
She grinned and held out an elixir. “Bottoms up, kid.”
Phoenix glanced down. He hadn’t even noticed his arms had started to drip. Great. Another thing for the townsfolk to take home as a story. He gulped the elixir with a grimace. “Does the taste ever get better?”
“If anything, it gets worse. Ah, well, necessary evils and all that. Not to suddenly change the subject or anything, but do you mind explaining her?” Eda waved an accusing hand towards Evelyn.
“I think you’d better ask her. And Caleb.”
“Yeah, I kind of thought that would be your answer. Well, can’t blame me for trying the easy route.” Eda grabbed Lilith’s arm. “C’mon.”
“What? Where are we going?”
“Answer-hunting.”
Before they could approach Evelyn, Sam thumped down the stairs, puzzle box tucked under his arm. “Oh, is the party over already? Excellent, I didn’t actually want to go.”
Lilith gasped. “Ooo!” She pulled herself from Eda’s grip, reaching for the box. “May I? I love a good puzzle.”
“Be my guest.”
“Aaaaand I’ve lost her,” Eda muttered under her breath, “Right, just me then.” She squared her shoulders, and marched towards Caleb and Evelyn. Steven waved the two of them off with a tired smile, and the two nervously gestured towards Achsah’s room, still untouched.
“They are definitely going to botch the explanation,” Sam said cheerfully, “They always do.”
“Yeah…” Phoenix looked back at Steven to check if he was still upright. He was with Darius now, and the two of them spoke in low voices, occasionally glancing down at Steven’s burned-off sigil. Cherry stood only a few feet away, looking like he was desperately trying not to listen in and at the same time, straining to hear what was being said.
“You’re my WHAT?!” Eda’s voice squawked from Achsah’s room.
“Got it!” Lilith said triumphantly at the same time, “You were so close. I barely had to do anything.” She looked up. “What happened to Eda?”
Phoenix hurried to Achsah’s room, Darius and Steven forgotten. Eda jabbed a finger at him the moment he entered.
“You are not allowed to be my great uncle,” she told him, “Not allowed, do you hear me?”
“Sorry. I’ll try not to be.”
Lilith came in on Phoenix’s heels. “What’s going on?”
“They’re our ancestors, Lili. Our ancestors.”
“Oh,” Lilith said thoughtfully, “That makes sense. Fascinating.” She held out the box. “This is for you two, by the way. Someone called Achsah went great lengths to make sure it reached you through time.”
Caleb all-but snatched the opened box from her, his face pale. “Achsah?!”
Evelyn delicately lifted out a letter. Phoenix caught sight of a bracelet inside, hand-woven leather and beads. Evelyn scanned the letter, her eyes welling up with tears.
“Get Mole, please,” she whispered, and Sam was off. Mole arrived moments later, and Evelyn held up the letter. “Caleb, would you…?”
Caleb took the paper from her, his eyes devouring it like a starving man. “Dear Mom and Dad,” he read out loud, “I’ve buried this letter in a puzzle box under where the kitchen will be someday. I hope you finally get to work on that root cellar you always wanted, or else you won’t find it. Dad—” he choked up, and Evelyn took the letter.
“Dad, I know exactly what you’ve probably been doing since the moment the time pool washed away, and I want you to stop it. What happened wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s. For a while, I was sad, and lost, and wanted nothing more than for you to pop out of another pool and bring me back home.” Evelyn took a deep breath. “But since then, I’ve met some beautiful people, including my partner.”
Caleb took the letter back. “You two would love them, just as much as I love them. I wish the three of you could meet. While I write this, your grandkid is tearing through the house like a tiny terror. He’s got your nose, Dad, and Mom’s eyes. And the healer tells me I’ve got twins coming—isn’t that crazy? I’d do anything to protect them, and I know if you could have come back for me, you would have. But I want you to know that I’m happy here and now. I miss you every day, but I don’t regret the people I’ve met since. Please don’t be sad I’m gone.”
Caleb smiled at Mole. “This next part is for you. Say hi to your lookalike for me, Dad. If he’s anything like you, the ‘don’t blame yourself’ bit goes for him, too. I don’t regret rescuing him. I only wish I’d gotten to know him. Bet he’s awesome. I made a bracelet for him. I know he was passed out, so he probably didn’t see me at all, but it’s just something to remember me by. His younger/older sister.”
Mole sniffed, delicately lifting the bracelet out of the box and slipping it onto his wrist.
“I know we were hiding. I didn’t realize it first, but now that I’ve spent my life here trying to pretend I’ve always lived in this time, I can see it’s the same. Mom. Dad. I don’t want you to keep hiding. Whatever happens, get out there. Show the world who you are. All the love in both dimensions, Achsah.”
Caleb folded up the letter, and they all stood there for a long moment, no one saying anything. Finally, Evelyn took Caleb’s hand. “No more hiding,” she said softly.
“No more hiding,” Caleb echoed, “No more grieving.”
“Are you ready to show the world who we are?”
“If you are.”
Evelyn smiled, and together, she and Caleb walked out to meet the Isles.
Xxx
“Latissa.” Evelyn said the word carefully, like it might shatter in her mouth. “That’s an interesting choice. Any reason?”
Steven rubbed his arm where his sigil used to be. “Darius mentioned something—I know it’s gone, but…”
“The sigil experiments,” Phoenix breathed. That had to be what Darius and Steven had been talking about at the housewarming party. He touched his own mark. The Day of Unity was over, and with it, the danger of the draining spell. The sigils didn’t affect him, but countless witches couldn’t access all their magic—Alador led the way in sigil removal research, and Darius was right there with him.
Steven nodded. “The sigil experiments. I don’t think mine is the same as the modern sigils, since it almost killed me instantly, but Darius said getting a look at the earlier attempts might help them understand the ones we have now.”
“But you said it: you don’t have yours anymore,” Evelyn replied, “How are they going to study it?”
“Questions. Anecdotes. And… the seizures. Darius thinks they’re related.”
“We knew that.”
“Well, yes, but this might be—I mean, if what I know can help them, and if their research can stop the seizures entirely… even if they can’t, I want to help.” Steven shook his head. “I used that glove on other people, even knowing what it would do to them. I can’t change that, but… maybe I can make up for it by helping witches suffering from those sigils now.”
Evelyn chewed on her lip. “Latissa is a bit of a commute without a palisman,” she said finally, “What’s your plan?”
“I’d be staying there.” Steven shrugged, as if trying to make it seem like nothing. “There’s space—they converted the old police station into their center. I’m sure we can fit a bed.”
“I see. Do you—do you know how long you’d be there?” Evelyn’s voice held a sort of desperate casualness to it, like she was trying not to scare Steven off, but also didn’t quite want to let him go.
“Not forever.” Steven’s voice matched Evelyn’s, somehow both intensely normal and strained at the same time. “I’ll be back. Um. I mean, how long could it take, really?”
“How much is Alador like Sam?” Evelyn joked. She rubbed her arm. “Will you be okay? I should go with you.”
“What? Mom, they need you here.”
“But the seizures—if one happens—will Alador know what to do?”
“I’ll tell him,” Steven promised, “And I’m almost certain healers will be involved—I’ll be in the best possible place if something does go wrong. Besides home.”
“Hm.”
Steven took her hands. “Mom, I’ll be safe. I promise. This could be… it could be huge for me.”
“It could be.” Evelyn sighed, wrapping him in a hug. “Oh, I knew you all would grow up. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”
Phoenix thought uneasily of Matt and Alex. Neither of them had announced their plans to leave yet, but maybe Evelyn suspected. Or maybe with Jason always off with the kids, and Auric always off at his new apprenticeship, and Phoenix gone every weekend, she just felt… lonely.
“I won’t be gone for long. Promise.”
Xxx
“Where was that you said? The wreckage of the keep? Again?” Darius pinched his nose, nodding along to the conversation on the other end of the raven phone. “I know—yes. No, we’ll look into it. I said we’ll look into it! Yes, lovely day to you too, goodbye.”
Phoenix winced, setting his weekend bag on the floor with a thump. “Bad time?”
Darius tossed the phone to the side, letting it fly to its perch. “It’s fine. Just Terra rearing her head again. Most of the scouts and coven heads settled in peacefully enough, but every couple of months…”
Phoenix shuddered. He doubted she’d come after him specifically, but part of him was tempted to start checking his drinks for poison. “Is it safe to leave her on the loose?”
“Unlikely. If anyone’s going to cause havoc, it’s going to be her. But the…” Darius heaved a sigh. “…CATs… are spread too thin. Between guarding the new palistrom tree, rebuilding what Belos and the Collector destroyed, and keeping the peace between disoriented and disillusioned citizens, we haven’t had a lot of time or manpower to spare towards tracking her down. And I don’t want to assign someone inexperienced to the job—we need someone who’s used to handling threats. Big ones. People who can corner her, and…” he tilted his head. “You have a thinking face on. You know someone, don’t you? One of your siblings?”
“Yes,” Phoenix said slowly, “Or—at least, I think so. Let me see that phone again?”
One short phone call and a griffin-flight later, Meleager, Horus, Hamlet, and Venari sat in Darius’ living room, studying pictures of Terra with matching frowns.
“Plant magic…” Meleager mused, “Fire and ice, then. I think I still have some leftover frost potions.”
“We need to get her off the ground,” Venari added, “The further she is from seeds and dirt, the harder it’ll be for her to get away.”
Hamlet scratched his head. “Coven head, though, so it’ll be tricky to separate her entirely—any capture method like nets or rope can’t be made of plant fibers, because she might be able to manipulate those.”
“Once we get her hands and feet immobilized, that won’t be as big of an issue,” Horus declared, “Focus on the capture—containment after should be comparatively easy.”
“Sounds like they’ve got this under control,” Darius murmured to Phoenix.
“They’ve been bored,” Phoenix replied equally quietly, “Oh, just—make sure you prioritize capturing Terra alive.”
Darius chuckled, then glanced at Phoenix and stopped abruptly. “Oh, you’re not kidding. They’ll—”
“Without hesitation.”
“Huh. Well, would it really be that much of a loss? Kidding,” he added quickly, “I’ll be sure to tell them.”
Phoenix shrugged. “I’ve got no love lost for Terra. But I don’t want them killing anyone, for sure. I don’t think that’s a path anyone wants them taking.”
“Hey.” Darius gave Phoenix a small smile. “Give them a little trust. They met Petro—I don’t think they’re in any hurry to go down the killing spree path.”
“Hm. I hope you’re right. They still might engage in some light torture, though.”
Darius squeezed his eyes shut. “Why do I feel like you handed me a bigger problem than the one you’ve solved?”
“They’ll be fine. Just…”
“Reiterate the capturing her alive part, yes, understood.”
“We’re going,” Venari declared, “We’ll see you in… what, 3 days at the worst?”
“We’re staking out the keep. We might come back to steal Dagger,” Meleager explained, “We got this, Phoenix, she’ll never poison anyone again.”
“Alive,” Darius warned, “Capture her alive!”
Horus gave him a thumbs-up, and the four of them disappeared out the door. Darius watched them go, the worry on his face shifting to a pensive, planning expression. “You know, if this goes well, I might have a few other hunts for them. Terra’s not the only one who’s clinging to her old power.”
Phoenix grinned. “I’m sure they’d like that very much.”
Xxx
“Oop—watch the root—”
Phoenix caught Mole’s arm at Jason’s warning, keeping him upright when he stumbled. “Maybe we should take off the blindfold?” he suggested, “The footing’s getting a little treacherous.”
“But then it wouldn’t be a surprise!” Jason protested, “Maybe you could carry him?”
Mole’s nose scrunched up at the suggestion, and Phoenix shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t think he wants that.”
“Well, we’re almost there anyway. Come on.”
Phoenix didn’t pick Mole up, but he held his arm out for Mole to cling to and guided him slowly over the forest floor. Mole gave him a brief grateful smile, jabbing one finger at the blindfold and heaving a fond sigh.
“He’s a bit excited,” Phoenix agreed, “He’s been taking trips out here with Hunter and Willow an awful lot, but they’ve been tight-lipped about it to me, too.”
“Okay, Phoenix, now you have to close your eyes, too!”
“I thought this was a surprise for Mole?” Phoenix protested.
“It is,” Hunter agreed, appearing at Phoenix’s elbow with Flapjack in his staff form, “But it’s a surprise for everyone. Don’t worry, I’ve got you two.”
Phoenix closed his eyes. Hunter’s hand closed over his arm, and he heard the tell-tale sound of a flash-step, his balance just ever-so-slightly thrown off at the sudden change in placement.
“Okay, open them,” Jason ordered.
Phoenix opened his eyes, and beside him, Mole took off the blindfold.
A massive blue tree towered over them, blooming with blue leaves and flowers. Phoenix had never seen a tree like this, but something about it seemed… familiar. His skin crawled with that feeling of just knowing something, deep inside, like how his curse recognized Belos, but more positive.
“Is that… palistrom?” he asked.
Mole stepped forward as if in a trance, putting one hand on the massive blue trunk. He nodded in answer to Phoenix’s question, pressing his forehead to the bark like it was an old friend. Silent tears streamed down his face, and Phoenix remembered just how long ago Mole had technically been born. He must have been used to seeing palistrom forests peppering the Isles, and had woken up suddenly in a world without them.
“The palisman this tree could make,” Phoenix murmured, “It grew so big so fast!”
“Willow had a lot to do with that part,” Hunter explained, “But, well, there’s a reason there was a shortage for so long.”
“Palistrom were kept strictly monitored by Belos,” Phoenix remembered, “You think he kept them small on purpose? Of course he did,” he answered his own question, “Why wouldn’t he? The more magic stifled, the better.”
Hunter fidgeted, twisting his hands around each other. Jason nudged him. “Go on,” he whispered, “Tell them.”
“Tell us what?”
“I’m going to be a palisman carver,” Hunter burst out, “Caleb’s taught me some, and I’ve been talking to Eda’s dad, Dell—he was a professional carver, you know—and he’s going to take me on as an apprentice.” He looked up at the tree, eyes shining. “With the way this tree’s been growing and flowering, we should be able to repopulate the Isles with palistrom in no time. Luckily, the palistrom is a self-pollinating plant. And even just a solid branch from this tree—anyone can have a palisman. Everyone can.” He scratched the back of his neck shyly. “I was thinking… I was thinking I could carve one for Caleb first. Since… you know. He carved my palisman.”
Phoenix smiled warmly. “That sounds like a great idea.”
“And… I could carve one for everyone in the family. Or you could adopt!” he added quickly, “The Bat Queen has dozens of palisman looking for a home. But yes. I could carve one. Hypothetically. No promises yet, I’m still learning, but—oh, okay, you hate the idea.”
“What?” Phoenix reached up to find tears running from his eyes. “No—no, Hunter, I don’t hate the idea, I…” he searched for the right words to describe how he felt. A palisman? For him? He’d never even considered it, not with the life he’d lived. The curse curled up inside him rumbled at the idea, but he couldn’t tell if it was the remnants of Belos protesting, the palisman eager for a palisman of their own outside of him, or something hungrier. “Is that a good idea?” he said finally, “I mean, with…” he gestured to his arms.
“Do you want one?” Jason asked.
“Yes.” The word slipped out of Phoenix’s mouth almost without a thought. He hadn’t realized he wanted one until now, but he knew it deep inside, watching Flapjack and Hunter. “I do.”
“Then we’ll find a way to make it work,” Jason said firmly, “Whatever that means.”
Mole nodded joining them. He pointed to himself, tilting his head in a question.
“Yeah, of course I can make one for you,” Hunter interpreted, “Any idea what you’d want? We can always go the egg route if not. Sounds pretty easy to carve, too.”
A mischievous grin crept over Mole’s face, and he pointed to himself again. Hunter frowned.
“I don’t know what you’re asking—sorry, we’ll figure it ou—”
Jason groaned. “Oh, no. You want a mole for a palisman, don’t you?”
Mole nodded vigorously, breaking off into peals of laughter. Phoenix groaned with Jason, but Mole’s laughter was infectious, and a smile took over his face despite himself.
Palisman for us. It didn’t seem right—not after all the palisman he’d handed over to Belos. Maybe Mole or Jason deserved one—after all, Belos had tried to kill Jason for protecting the little creatures. Phoenix? He’d never even considered another option besides giving them to their doom.
But Flapjack sat scarred and proud on Hunter’s shoulder despite everything, like a beacon saying it’s possible; you just have to want it enough, and the tree loomed over them, big, and beautiful, and strong despite what Belos had tried to do to its species, and right here, in this forest, Phoenix did want it.
We’ll find a way to make it work.
Xxx
Phoenix climbed out an attic hatch onto the roof—another holdover from the old house’s design. He didn’t quite join Cherry where he sat on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over, but he sat down close.
“I thought this was Jason’s brooding spot. Enjoying the view?”
Cherry glanced back at him. “It’s quieter than I thought it would be.”
“Hm?”
Cherry waved a hand at the town sprawling in the near distance. “I thought it would be noisy, living so much closer to other people. But in the evening, if I close my eyes, it’s almost like nothing’s changed. It’s like we’re still back in the forest, and we’re all together. No one’s left and gone where I can’t protect them. And then I open my eyes, and… it’s all so different now.”
“It’s not a bad thing. They’ll be okay.”
“Mm.” Cherry stared out over the town again, his hair almost red in the light of the setting sun. “You ever think it was strange, how close to Belos we were hiding? I mean, the third rib? We might as well have been on his doorstep. But we weren’t discovered. Somehow, we were never discovered. Somehow, Mom and Dad managed to save every one of us, no matter how badly we were injured. Isn’t that odd? We didn’t lose a single person.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Belos always said loss was so necessary, and I believed him. I saw it firsthand, how sometimes people had to be sacrificed. We were some of those people. But somehow, no one died. None of us—despite how many people we killed, not one of us went down. Why did we get to survive when so many people didn’t?” He chuckled, a low, humorless sound. “Doesn’t that seem so improbable, when you think about it? Belos might have been lying about the titan having plans for us, but sometimes it almost does feel like there’s some higher power out there who’s decided to keep us alive.”
“Or one determined human and witch.” Phoenix scooted closer to Cherry, eying the edge of the roof. “It does seem improbable,” he admitted, “People died—and we were responsible some of the time. But we all made it. Against the odds. I think this family is good at that.”
Cherry heaved a sigh. “But what’s the point, if we’re not going to stick together? What’s the point, if after everything, everyone goes their separate ways? We got so far, only to fall apart at the end.”
“We’re not falling apart.” Phoenix looked up at the moon and stars slowly replacing the sun as the brightest things in the sky. “You know… I used to see Darius every day. I’d take him with me on missions. I’d test his skills, but I was always there to protect him if something happened. But when I first woke up with Caleb and Evelyn… he’d grown. He was a capable adult who could handle himself. And that was a hard thing to accept. If he didn’t need me to protect him, if he didn’t need a mentor, then what use was I to him?”
Phoenix smiled. “But we haven’t fallen apart yet. Maybe he doesn’t need a mentor anymore. Maybe he doesn’t need my protection. But I think he still needs me. Just me, because I’m me and that’s enough of a reason.” Phoenix nudged Cherry’s shoulder. “It’s not going to be the same. They’re not going to be as close. They won’t always need your protection anymore. And that’s going to be difficult to get used to. But I don’t think they’ll ever stop needing you.”
Cherry watched the sun finally disappear completely over the horizon, silent until it was gone. “I don’t want our lives to change,” he said finally, “I think I’m glad for the others finding what they want, but I’m not sure who I am without them. I’ve been looking after them for so long, trying to forget the past for so long… I don’t want to be left alone with myself.”
“Hm.” Phoenix leaned back, finally kicking his legs over the edge of the roof and sitting fully next to Cherry. “Well. I can tell you some good news about that.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes. Even if they all leave, even if we all go our separate ways, you aren’t going to be alone, Cherry. We will always have your back. We’ll only be one raven call away.”
A smile flashed across Cherry’s face. “You’re going to have to teach me how to use one.”
“Oh. Right.”
“But… thanks, Phoenix. For having my back.”
Xxx
Despite Phoenix’s late start, his room filled up over months of living. Mole commandeered his window space with new plants, human realm varieties that Camila shared. Light blue walls were quickly covered over with scribbles that Ghost had presented him, and photos Willow shared. She always seemed to be dropping by, picking up Hunter or Jason or both of them. Sometimes, even Mole went along to visit the palistrom tree. Little practice wood carvings that Hunter made with Caleb and Dell surrounded the photograph Darius had given to him. Hunter hadn’t carved any palisman for the family besides Mole’s mole, but one day, Jason came back from the human realm library with a massive book full of animal pictures that he and Phoenix pored over for hours, looking for a creature that felt right.
Jason tapped one foot. “We’re going to be late. Hunter and Willow are outside waiting.”
“Yeah, yeah, give me a second. We’ll have at least half an hour while Caleb and Flapjack catch up.” Phoenix drank an elixir. Today had been a good day for the curse, but he didn’t want to push it staying up late.
Jason wandered over to the window, peering into the garden. “He’s gotten taller than me,” he grumbled, “Traitor. I’ll be inconsolable if Ghost gets big like that. I cannot be the shortest in the family.”
Phoenix ruffled his hair, his arm braces clicking gently at the movement. “Aw, don’t you want to stay the baby forever? You don’t want to be Evelyn’s little snuggle buddy?”
“I will always be Mom’s little snuggle buddy, thank you very much, but that doesn’t mean I have to be the shortest. Ghost has to be shorter. They have to.”
“Do not.” Ghost wrinkled their nose at Jason from the doorway. “I’m gonna be so big. Gonna eat griffins. In one bite.”
“Don’t let Joseph hear you say that,” Phoenix joked, “He’ll disown you.”
Ghost squeaked, tugging on Phoenix’s arm. “Nee-Nee, it’s time to go,” they said impatiently, “I wanna see King.”
“Alright, I’m coming, I’m coming.”
Phoenix followed Ghost downstairs. Hunter chattered excitedly to Caleb about the palisman he was working on, and Willow gave Jason their customary bow and exchange of royal titles.
“I can just walk, right?” Phoenix asked Hunter.
“Low and slow,” Hunter promised.
“You never actually mean that,” Phoenix grumbled, but he sat behind Hunter anyway, picking Ghost up and holding them tightly in his lap.
Hunter did fly too fast and too high for Phoenix’s taste, but Willow and Jason still beat them by a mile, so he supposed Hunter had been taking it easy on him.
Ghost squirmed out of Phoenix’s lap almost before they’d completely landed, bolting to tackle King in a hug. The titan fell in mock defeat.
“Curses! You’ve defeated the king of the demons this time, little Ghost!”
“She’s coming!” Eda called, “Everyone ready?”
Luz walked through the door, and the quinceañera passed by in a blur of well-wishes and laughter. Phoenix exchanged smiles and hellos with what seemed like everyone on the Isles.
“You thought any more about the mentoring offer? The university’s really taking off.”
Phoenix smiled tiredly in response to Eda. “I’d need a way to get there. Getting Ghost to Hexside is going to be tricky enough.”
“Man. Get a palisman already, would ya?”
Eda’s grin dispelled any bite to the words, but Phoenix’s attention hung fully on the portal door hanging wide open behind her. He glanced around to make sure Ghost was safe—they chased happily after Flapjack, who Phoenix was relatively certain was one of the more responsible people here—and quickly pushed through into the human realm before he could convince himself not to.
Creak.
Phoenix’s eyes darted over furniture that formed monsters and familiar specters in the dark. Wait a minute…
“Petro?” he called, just in case.
“No,” Jason’s voice called from the basement, “Just me.”
Phoenix creaked his way down the stairs to the basement, wincing at every sound. He sat on the bottom of the stairs next to Jason. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Jason gestured out towards the mound where Phoenix knew Belos’ remains lay. “Do you ever wake up and just… forget for a minute that he’s gone?”
Phoenix rubbed his arms. A part of Belos would always live in him, in the curse—for him the problem was more remembering that he was gone at all. “Sometimes,” he admitted, “I’m guessing you do.”
Jason sighed. “I know it’s been years, but… sometimes it just doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I feel like he’s still coming for me. I mean, after all he’s survived, how can I even truly be sure he’s gone?” He rested his chin on his knees. “I don’t know if I’ll ever really believe it.”
Phoenix chuckled dryly. “Can you imagine how furious he’d be if he was still alive?”
Jason cracked a smile at that. “A university of wild magic?” he joked, “He’s probably spinning in his grave fast enough to generate the electricity needed to power this whole neighborhood. Not to mention us.”
“Not to mention us,” Phoenix echoed, “He’d be devastated if he knew we were happy.”
“Guess we better keep being happy, then. Just to spite him.” Jason’s smile faded, and he went back to looking over Belos’ grave.
Phoenix nudged his shoulder. “Hey,” he said quietly, “He’s dead. For real this time. He’s not coming back. But when it feels like he might, when it feels like he’s going to jump out of nowhere and sink his claws into you… you know where to find me. Or Cherry. Or Caleb, or Evelyn, or Mole, or anyone else. You’re going to be okay.”
“Yeah. I think I am.”
Jason got up, stretching and offering his hand to Phoenix. “Let’s get out of here.”
Phoenix happily obeyed, following Jason back into light and laughter. Ghost wandered over, their eyelids drooping. Flapjack chirped an admonishment, tugging affectionately on their hair.
“Hey, Ghost,” Phoenix said quietly, crouching down next to them, “You all tired out?”
They rubbed their eyes. “I’m not sleepy,” they said stubbornly, in spite of their giant yawn, “I just… want to go to bed and rest my eyes.”
“Fair enough.” Phoenix scooped Ghost up, holding them as easily as if they were still a toddler. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
#YAY WE FINISHED IT IN TIME FOR GILDED'S BIRTHDAY!!!! BARELY BUT WE DID IT!!!#toh#the owl house#gilded family au#toh fanfiction#my writing#caleb wittebane#golden guard oc#evelyn clawthorne#willow park#hunter wittebane
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SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE
── ˖✮⋆˙꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ jungkook x han so-hee ˒˓ seven music video universe
summary. a missing scene from the seven music video, from the perspective of freshly heartbroken jungkook
genre/tags. pining, post-break up, (not so) unrequited love, incredibly whipped jungkook
─ this is jungkook's perspective of my other seven fic! read them here ⋆｡°༄˖°.🪐
Jeon Jungkook may have fucked up.
He’s not afraid to admit that, and neither is anyone else. Latto had cackled when he told her what happened, all broken up about being broken up with. She’s usually pretty cool about things, on his side, but she’s real with him too. The guys were kinder about it, but the general consensus was that Jungkook has maybe, definitely, fucked up.
So, it’s a messy situation, but it’s not impossible to fix. Jungkook’s a crafty guy, and he’s dedicated to everything he puts his mind to, so he’s sure that if he really tries, and really works hard he can fix this. He wants to fix it, desperately, because... well, because of everything. She’s everything.
She was everything.
He needs to fix it. He needs to fix them. He can fix it, he knows he—
“Should leave her alone, right?”
“What?” Jungkook asks, snapping out of his thoughts. He’s sitting at a barstool, head in his hands with his elbows resting on the counter. He looks over to Latto, supremely unimpressed.
“She doesn’t want you, baby,” Latto shrugs, leaning next to him, eyes scanning the dancefloor absently as though she’s not actively ruining Jungkook’s life, “Give her some space, at least, before you rocket back into shit.”
“I need her to know—”
“You need to not push her into filing a restraining order,” Latto insists, rolling her eyes fondly. Jungkook pouts slightly, and she pats him on the shoulder, already walking away from him. He watches her leave, a little miffed and a little resigned because Latto is probably, definitely right, but he doesn’t want her to be.
“Then what should I do?” He yells at an already halfway gone Latto.
“Go home?” Latto yells back, “Go to therapy?” She disappears into the crowd, but he can hear her laughing to herself.
So, Jungkook goes home. On the same train that he always does. At the same time as he always does. Jungkook, from the future, would like to claim that these factors make what happened next 100%, completely, absolutely, not his fault.
Jungkook steps on the train, emptier than usual but still bustling with people, and grabs the first empty seat he can find, sighing with relief as he just narrowly avoids standing in the shadow of a fairly gross looking businessman. He readjusts, stretching slightly as the train begins to move, and as he settles in his seat, he looks around the train and—
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Han So-hee is still as beautiful as the day they met, and still as devastating as the day she left.
“Um,” Jungkook says, and she rolls her eyes, beginning to stand.
“Excuse me,” So-hee starts to stand, looking to the people around her, “Do you want my s—”
The train shakes abrubtly, slamming her back into her seat, and she sighs, resigned and exhausted. She settles back into her seat, putting her earbuds back in with a pointed glare at him.
“Don’t say anything,” She bites out the words, like they’re painful, and they are painful, but more for Jungkook than her. Jungkook just nods, quiet and understanding. So-hee blinks, a little taken aback, but then she just rolls her eyes and returns back to her phone. Jungkook returns back to his too, but it’s absent, like he’s not fully there because he isn’t.
A different Jungkook wouldn’t have listened. He would’ve kept talking, pestered her into laughing and letting him back into her home, like he always did after arguments. But, current Jungkook knows he can’t do that anymore, that he did it one too many times, during an argument that was a little too serious, and now he can’t go back to her home, to what he always considered home, because he pushed her too far.
She gets off before him, because she always does. He can see the exact route she’ll take home in his head, memorized from nights where they stumbled back home together, drunk and giggly.
“I love you,” Jungkook says. He’s not sure if she hears him, but it doesn’t matter. He just needs to say it.
Through the departing train’s window, he watches her glance backward at him, before disappearing off the platform as a whole, into the streets of the city where she lives without him.
Jungkook goes back to his apartment, and he realizes that he can’t live without her. Jungkook also realizes that she can live without him, that she doesn’t need him in the same way, and he wants to let her have that. He wants to try again, but he doesn’t want her to hate him.
So, Jungkook resolves to let her leave.
Unfortunately, nothing is ever that easy. But, Jungkook would like to say that it’s not his fault.
Jungkook takes the same train he did when he was with her, because that’s the train he’s always taken, so he sees her constantly. Okay, whatever, that’s fine.
But, Jungkook goes to the same restaurants that he used to go to in university, back when him and So-hee would spend weekends and nights finding new, exciting places to eat, because he always goes to the restaurants. So-hee goes to them too, because she found them with him and has all the rights too, so he sees her at the restaurants and it’s hard to explain to every old woman behind the counter that no, they aren’t together anymore and haha, yeah, it’s all good, he just misses her more than he thinks he would miss his own lungs in his chest. So, he just... doesn’t tell them, and neither does she, and everyone still thinks they’re in love, so sometimes they sit across from each other in a restaurant booth to avoid any questions.
For practicality’s sake.
Um. Anyways.
He sees her at the laundromat, and at this point, he misses her like the Earth would miss the Sun if it imploded in the sky. She’s in an old blue denim jacket from years ago, with her hair loose around her shoulders and messy as she slams around a laundry basket, clearly sick of him. He can’t help himself from looking though, swinging his legs atop his own washing machine, watching her load her clothes into the machine. His eyes catch on a faded sweatshirt he used to have years ago, his university logo faded and worn on the front of it, and he immediately averts his eyes. If she knows that he knows, she’ll give it back, because she’ll be embarrassed. The sweatshirt is proof he’s still something to her, he’s still useful, so if she gives it back, it’s one less sign that she doesn’t actually loathe him. He wants her to keep it, so he doesn’t say anything, not until the room starts to flood and they’re pushing at the ceiling.
I love you, he almost says when they make it out, and she starts on her way home, still soaked and angry.
I love you, he almost says when he texts her about the police assuming her laundry was his, because his wallet had still been in her laundry basket.
I love you, he almost says when she opens the door and lets him, and the laundry but mostly him, into her apartment and offers him coffee on instinct.
Her cats brush at his hands and he coos at them like everything is normal, and she asks him about Jimin and work and if he could talk to the others about bringing her neice into the studio, and when he agrees, she says that she literally loves him, and Jungkook shatters.
“I love you,” Jungkook says, and So-hee doesn’t say it back, but she smiles a little bit, and lets him leave on his own, without slamming the door behind him.
Things aren’t perfect, she doesn’t run back to him with open arms and beg to be married, but when he enters the place they used to study late into the night, begging the shop owner for just one more ramen bowl and a few more minutes, she takes her bag off the opposite seat, and doesn’t glare at him when he accidentally mumbles to himself too loud while working.
It’s not perfect, but it’s close, and missing her when she’s close is better than missing her when she’s far. At least she’s still in reach, and at least she still lets him look at her.
“I love you,” He says, without even thinking about it, and she doesn’t even look up.
“Yeah, yeah,” She says, the first aknowledgement since she broke up with him months ago, “Have you considered putting that energy into a job?”
“You’re better than a job,” Jungkook says, teasing but light, like she’ll shutter away if it’s not just a graze of a joke. She gives him a look, and he thinks shit, because oh no, oh god, he’s fucked it all up again and he—
“I’m better than everything,” She says back, a small smile playing on her face, a clear indication of her joke, “Get a better excuse.”
Jungkook misses her more than anything. Her eyes, and her hair, and her hands, and her cats, and her food, and her brain, but more than anything, he misses the way she makes him laugh out of nowhere.
He laughs, because of course he does, loud and disruptive, and it turns into choking giggles when the old ladies nearby shush him loudly. His eyes are shut, blinking rapidly to get away his tears, even though it really wasn’t that funny. It’s a mix of shock, and delight, and nostalgia making him inconsolably laugh, but his distraction stops him from noticing the way she grins fondly.It’s not an I love you, but it’s close, and he missed it. He missed everything about her. All he wants to do is get it back, and actually see it, see her, again.
#jungkook#seven jungkook#jeon jungkook#han so hee#jungkook fanfic#kpop fanfic#bts fanfic#han so-hee#seven#༄˖°🪐 writes
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Helluva Broken Narrative and the most useless character..
Disclaimer: Not saying you can't enjoy this show folks. Enjoy it all you want, this is just a rant about the lack of a cohesive narrative!
I really was completely dead on posting, but I just can't get this out of my head.
I feel people should be acknowledging this far more than it has been, this is extremely important. This goes beyond just episode pacing, this goes beyond the characters....this is something that without it? There is no real show, which is....
Helluva Boss has a BROKEN NARRATIVE.
Some fans wanna claim it has this 'complex' writing and I'm sitting here going like "really? Where?"
It doesn't sorry and know why? Because Season 2 of this show, basically broke the narrative that Season 1 was building.
These past posts of mine, will show you why the narrative is broken.
Now can they continue on with the story they are telling? Yes of course they can, but it won't fix the fact that it's not coherent to Season 1, that it's not needed.
Wanna know who the most useless character in the show is now? If you guessed Stolas, you're correct! In the meaning of making Stolas this guy who did nothing wrong and who's sad....they took away his character purpose.
Stolas has ZERO purpose being within the show now, given how things have played out.
But you might say
"Well he's needed to give Blitz the Crystal and end the deal!"
Except....no, he wasn't. Remembering my posts above, where you can have I.M.P. killing in Hell as a Season 1 thing?
Maybe they're just getting started with their company? So Blitz wants to supplement with killing in Hell by killing those up top so he goes to see about getting an Asmodean Crystal?
See let's backtrack here folks, the episode Oops it was mainly about Blitz and Fizz reconciling right? Which they do at the end of the episode. Now follow this, if we take into account the above, Blitz' dialogue could be.
Blitz: "Fizz look, I know what happened to you was horrible. I don't...expect you to forgive me, but I'm struggling to support myself, my daughter and my employees with my company. I....if you can just think on it, perhaps I could get one of those Asmodean Crystals?"
The scene ends and Fizz goes back to Ozzie, while along the way he's thinking about Blitz' words and how he was saved by him where in the end, Fizz agrees to send Blitz a Crystal because he's earned it from saving his very life.
Or here's another scenario, Blitz has a Crystal from the start(which he took from Verosika when they were dating), but as things get far more hectic up on Earth with more dangers. The Crystal ends up shattering after I.M.P. gets back to Hell after a job, thus Blitz goes to actually confront his past and reconcile with Fizz in order to try and get a new one.
See how easy it is now, to just remove Stolas entirely? They took away a character's purpose of being in the show....that to me, is completely disappointing. Characters, especially those that are suppose to be IMPORTANT, should have a purpose...without that? You may as well just delete them entirely.
Blitz could have had 2 whole Seasons with relating to the past and those that he hurt, that he TRULY hurt(Verosika, Fizz and Barbie) that would actually matter to him as a character. But instead, all these characters are instead shoved to the wayside, for a character who doesn't matter anymore and only actually matters because the writing is FORCING him to matter.
You can write the narrative in so many different ways with what Season 2 gives us, that completely destroys what Season 1 told us. Are we now expected to just....IGNORE AN ENTIRE SEASON?
They can do this whole "sad Stolas is sad and Blitz is hurt and Stolas is going to give him a crystal." Thing all the way to 'try' and fix things, but it'll fix nothing....because the deal between them was retroactively made completely pointless.
The show will continue obviously, but in the back of the minds....it will be a broken narrative and Season 1 is basically buried 6 feet under. As a writer, this really annoys me....because they had how long between Seasons to nail this down? How long have we all waited just in-between episodes? This shouldn't have happened.
Yes, is storytelling hard? Obviously, none of my stories are perfect....but at least the narrative is coherent from beginning to end.
Anyway...I just...had to get this out of my head, because it was really frustrating and I want it to be acknowledged more. The narrative is important folks, if it's broken...that's not a good thing.
I'm still watching this show....if only because I'm knee deep in it now and I still somewhat actually like the characters, but what I don't like...is this broken narrative that is still hanging around with a pointless character that doesn't matter to the show anymore.
Narratives, coherent narratives are important to a story, without it? You don't have characters and you don't have a story.
#helluva boss#helluva critique#helluva boss critical#helluva critical#helluva boss criticism#vivziepop critical#Narratives are the MOST IMPORTANT THING!
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[REDACTED]: You're writing down an awful lot there.
Counselor: Just my observations. Does this evaluation make you...anxious?
washed hands interview my beloved
#rvb#red vs blue#agent washington#aiden price#the counselor#this is kinda boring ngl but ehhhhhhhh i put way too much effort into this to NOT post it shsgdjs#idk if its readable anymore bc i had to halve the size of this but i filled out his dogtags lol#those thick bands on his arm are tattoos btw.#and yes my wash has heterochromia bc he deserves it#i did actually color this but i HATED it so. wash had a black eye and sutures across his cheek bc i imagined this interview happening like#right after he beat the crap out of his co. for comparison wash walks away w sutures and a black eye vs his co's broken jaw cracked ribs an#dislocated shoulder. a 'you should see the other guy' moment shsgdhsj#I like to imagine that post court martial instead of throwing him in jail they essentially grounded him and he was barred from going on#missions and he was stuck doing grunt work#they were going to throw his butt in jail but all of his squad mates went to bat for him and the higher ups were like#'omg this guy is way too liked by pretty much everyone if we put him in jail we might have a bigger problem on our hands.'#ANYWAY click or open in a new tab for full quality lol
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Watching the Brawn docu has me wanting to reach through the screen to choke out Christian and Montezemolo
#like i feel like obv theyre probably being dramatic for the sake of the docu#but at the same point it rly feels like they still hold a grudge#and im not one of those people who decrys the rb19 as being illegal or whatever#but my god for someone's car who gets accused of being illegal a lot christian youre sure talking a load of shit#like ik hes talking abt his standpoint from back then but atp in his career after all hes been thru#should he not be admiring them?????#as i said in my other tags:#wah wah angry bcs another team found a loophole in the loophole sport???#i love tho brundle is like talking abt how he loves how teams exploit and bypass the rulebook#like to be the rulebook is like...you read it in depth so you can see what you can get away with#and obv the other teams will be annoyed but at the same time i feel like id be lowkey congratulatory like wow nice loophole!!#and also the rb5 was pretty good imo and just needed time and got bludgeoned by the brawn#meanwhile the ferrari of this ssn is basically like the ferrari of well this season#like ferrari and mclaren in 2009 basically had thw same situation as this yr#start out shit and then developed enough along the season to get podiums and wins#like rbr somewhat has a point bcs imo theyd def be the top team if not for brawn's double diffuser#so i get that yknow. but ferrari was just straight up trash and cant put up w the fact that they made a shit car#also 2009 KERS is SOOOOOOO much more broken and unfair than the DD imo!!!#like ex. Fisi totally should have won Spa but Kimi got him literally just bcs of KERS#but god yeah anyways these fucking politics ny god....the one thing max moseley did right was to accept the Brawn hahaha#why am i getting pissed at 14 year old drama LMFAO#fuck i am so happy for Brawn i think it would truly be the most unfair thing in the entire sport if they had screwed them over#i reallt just think the other teams were eternally salty because they voted to get Brawn into the sport#and then get pissy when Brawn is actually fucking fantastic#like they just expected them to be trash and then got pissed when they werent backmarkers its so dumb#ANYWAYS THEYRE NOW TALKING ABOUT CHINA 2009 MY FUCKING BELOVED SEBMARKSON!!!!!!!!#^ but speaking of that. so funny that christian was a total whiny bitch at the FIA meeting btwn Malaysia and China#talking abt how unfsir the decision was and then WENT ON TO WIN THE VERY NEXT RACE LIKE BRUH STFFUUUUUU#catie.rambling.txt
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Sometimes I think about that moment in NMH2 when Travis’s talks about how ‘despite assassins being super fucked up, are still human beings that deserve respect’ and I just… kinda get emotional over that because even though he is a pathetic loser, he’s not wrong!! He’s absolutely correct!!
Assassins are more than just tools! They are more than just bloodthirsty killers! They had lives! Dreams! Personalities! Interests!! Family!! They had things that they cared about but had no choice but to abandon them, because the life of an assassin is cruel one with constant competition. The genuine horror of it is realising that at any moment, a ranking fight would be set and on that day of the fight you’d have to accept the fact that you might not walk out the door, it’s sad!! It’s horrifying! And with each little bit of info on the assassins you get you can’t help but feel bad for them. Sure they knew what they were signing up for but that doesn’t mean they can’t have a dignified/honourable death !!
#shallow rambles#nomoreposting#the UAA should be torn down because it profits off the misery and suffering of its main employees#<- I hope that in nmh4 if it ever happens that Travis makes true on that promise to tear down the UAA.#I want Travis to tell his brother that he’s more than tool!! that he’s a human being that deserves freedom and respect and human dignity!!!#<- I never not think how much Henry’s adopted family messed him up because they only viewed him as a weapon to sharpen and not a child to#raise with love and care and affection :(((((#<- JEANE SMACKDOWN DESERVED TO BE TOLD THAT SHE CAN RELY ON PEOPLE TO SUPPORT HER AFTER#HER TRAUMA!! SHE DID NOT HAVE DO DIE THE WAY SHE DID!! SHE COULD BE LIVING A PEACEFUL HAPPY AND HEALTHY LIFE!!#SAME WITH HENRY TOO!! he deserves to have some personal closure on why his adopted family did what they did to him!! and he has every right#to cut contact with them!!#HI SORRY TIME TO THINK ABOUT THE TOUCHDOWN SIBLINGS AND CRY#thoughts on queue#queue awaits you at the garden of madness#TRAVIS!!! Travis deserved to be with his siblings in a happy and healthier environment!! while I’m happy he carved out a new found family!#he also deserves closure too!! he deserves answers as to why he was split from his siblings!! he deserved the opportunity to mend#the relationships with his siblings that were purposefully broken and taken away from him!!!#I just want a NMH story where the three siblings rebuild their lives together and give each other emotional support!!!#THEY DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER OKAY!!! I mean the whole series is bc their dad was A SHITBAG and thought it was okay to separate them
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[long post about college friends and how they act about my recent breakup — i am doing just fine so feel free to ignore — just trying to process things and that involves long paragraphs of sorting my thoughts]
today i was hanging out with mila and aria and i joked that it was a red flag that oliver doesn’t like the little robots that drive around campus delivering food. and aria said “that guy was a walking red flag in general” and i said what do you mean?? and she just started listing things and some of them i can see where she’s coming from and some of them i can’t. but like for example she said he’s a bad listener and self-centered and doesn’t care about other people. and i would say that he does care about other people, and he’s just not good at showing it. but i actually do think that the way he was so focused on me when he liked me is maybe a bad thing after all. like he focused on me and didn’t really pay attention to my other friends. mila says she felt uncomfortable when we were in a group of three before me and oliver started dating because oliver would only pay attention to me. and i do wish that i had noticed that and taken it for all of what it is, instead of just seeing that he liked me, if i saw that for him liking somebody in that way makes such a difference, because it makes sense that now that he doesn’t like me anymore, our relationship is entirely recontextualizing when from my perspective we could have just stayed close friends.
anyway another thing that aria said is that specifically, he doesn’t pay attention to ella. who is another friend of aria’s and sort of me and mila’s, which is sort of a layered issue. cause i know why oliver doesn’t pay attention to ella, it’s because he doesn’t like her because she makes her friendship to me into a big performance even though we hardly know each other. like whenever we see each other and i’m with someone she doesn’t know (for example when my mom was here) she goes “ohmygosh i’m your biggest fan it’s the legendary arthur” or she will like shake my hand or whatever and be like “wow it’s SO good to see you” even though we hardly know each other, and she doesn’t act like that when it’s just the two of us. it almost feels like she’s making fun of me, even though i know she doesn’t mean it like that. but the point is she can make me uncomfortable at times, and the first time oliver met her was a time she was acting like that, and afterwards he said “who was that??” and i said “oh we hardly know each other” and he said he hates when people are insincere and put on a show like that and that it reminds him of his dad. so i can’t exactly take it as a red flag that he doesn’t like her specifically. i think it’s maybe a green flag to not give a lot of credit to somebody who treats your partner weird like that?? i sure appreciated that somebody else in the world agreed with me on how it felt.
but anyways people have been pointing out issues with oliver and they all have something to be said for their arguments. but the thing that’s upsetting me right now is this: aria listed so many things she doesn’t like about oliver, including “i mean, it’s oliver. his personality is just awful” (which!!!! jeez!!!! going to have to disagree on that front?? and really…. do they even know each other?? i don’t know where she’s drawing her judgements from honestly cause they’ve hardly interacted) but what upsets me is that every time i’ve mentioned oliver for the past few months, no matter what it’s about, aria will just say “imagine being in a relationship” or like “oh i wish i had a boyfriend” (also irritating is that — although i’m starting to question the sincerity of oliver’s gender concerns as opposed to sloppily covered up commitment issues — i have told everyone, more than once, that he wanted to be referred to as my partner, not my boyfriend, and nobody i know has cared at all)
and i asked today when she was listing red flags i was like “why didn’t you tell me any of this while we were dating??” and she said “oh well i was just happy for you to be dating anybody even if it’s him.” and that pisses me off so bad!!!! don’t get me wrong i feel good about my decision to date oliver even if it ended badly, and i don’t want to take back these past few months and have it end sooner than it did, but i would love it if people didn’t shield me from their legitimate opinions of my partner just because they’d rather me be dating an asshole than comfortably single?? and the fact that this whole time she’s believed me to be dating an asshole, and still guilt tripped me constantly for being in a relationship even though she clearly believed it to be a bad one???? that really upsets me. and it’s not like we’re incredibly close but she’s one of the only people i have in college (especially now that all the alcohol party people maybe belong to oliver and won’t ever talk to me again) and i would like to feel like she respects me enough to share her real opinions about my partner before my relationship falls apart?? is that too much to ask?? and just. the idea that she has resented him this entire time, and still been going on and on about how lucky i am to be in any relationship at all.
i don’t know. that’s my vent. i’m just irritated and i wish everyone i knew here hadn’t been so busy treating me and my relationship as their little pet “aww well aren’t you cute” or “i am SO jealous of you” and just valuing the fact that i’m in a relationship over every actual qualitative judgement they have. even if i don’t agree with everything they’re saying and automatically regret this relationship. i’m upset that all of these concerns are only coming out now, and that nobody seems to have any concern for how this breakup is actually affecting me, or how the relationship affected me while it lasted. they were just happy for me that i had a “boyfriend”. and mean to me all the time that they didn’t. this is almost entirely about aria, but a few other people have said things to a similar effect and i just wish i could trust anybody to communicate with me when there’s literally anything i can do about it. vent over i guess.
#friends only#delete later#me. my post. mine.#it REALLY gets to me that she was guilt tripping me for dating while she’s single AT THE SAME TIME as hating my partner#that actually just created an environment where i felt like i shouldn’t be allowed to complain about the issues we did have#which made me less ready to accept that our relationship should have been ending!!!!#i should have broken up with him. not right away but i should have after spring break#i should have broken up with him when he left me at that party half asleep by myself#cause that was definitely the point where things clearly shifted from him caring and prioritizing me to just coexisting when convenient#and i don’t really care what personal journey he was on wrt his attraction to me or lack thereof#that isn’t a situation you leave me in even if we’re ‘‘just friends’’#it’s a question of respect. he gets the drunk pass judgement-wise but he’s drunk too often to act like it therefore doesn’t matter#and i should have broken up with him then even though we had a good talk the next day. cause i didn’t even bring up being hurt i just#brushed past it. cause i figured if i could stop caring about it then it wouldn’t matter. that’s what i need to change#in order to be comfortable in relationships in the future. even if i can get over it these things still matter and mean something#even if i can get over it i still deserve an apology. and a partner who just wouldn’t fucking leave me there#ANYWAYS im gonna go to bed. im exhausted. i had a good day today though i think. minecraft has been my best friend#and tomorrow i have latin and then i get to watch centaurworld and do hardly any programming homework#so i think everything is gonna be okay. oliver be damned#anyway i hope everyone is doing okay and lmk if you need anything. and sorry for long and convoluted post shdhdf#for real time to go to bed now. goodnight!!!!
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johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.
he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.
and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.
the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.
a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)
"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."
excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."
"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."
you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—
"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.
"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."
-
damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.
he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.
you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.
lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.
double damn.
"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—
"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."
when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.
-
the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.
simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—
his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.
the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.
"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."
somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.
"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"
the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.
he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.
the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.
as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.
"hush."
you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"
you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.
wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.
the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.
"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.
"gonna beg?"
the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.
you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."
the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.
"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.
he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.
and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.
"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.
"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—
the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.
"ya with me?"
you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.
"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.
simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—
"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?
"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.
"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."
he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.
his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.
he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."
that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.
his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.
your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.
"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."
your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—
and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.
"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."
there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.
simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"
he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.
simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.
"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.
it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.
simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—
"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."
there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.
"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."
a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.
you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.
your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.
your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.
(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)
his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.
and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."
"pet."
"please stop looking at me like that."
he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.
"make me."
-
as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.
your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.
when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.
good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.
sent 5:30 am
about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.
sent 5:49 am
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley smut#cod smut#simon ghost riley x f reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader
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