#he's going to get to lie on Thena's couch

[softquietsteadylove]

What about Thena was the one visiting Gil in the gym and then she saw him having a sparring with someone, maybe the sparring got a little personal and then she started worrying about him.

Gil shook his head, blinking after yet another hit.

"Why so distracted, Gil?" Ikaris asked with a frown, shaking out his own gloves as they circled each other. "I'm startin' to think you're letting me get these in for free."

Gil rolled his eyes. Ikaris was only this chatty when he was trying to blow off some steam. He guessed that was why he'd dropped by in the first place. "Y'know, some of us have day jobs. I've been at this all day, ass hole."

"Come on," Ikaris scoffed as Gil finally pulled his gloves up again. He immediately got his fists up, giving him a few taps, glove to glove. "The Gil I remember could go all day in the ring."

"The Gil you remember was twenty-something," Gil growled back. Ikaris was on break from the pro circuit, and obviously feeling restless about it, looking for a fight to exercise some of his excess energy. "He could go all day 'cause he had nothing better to do."

Ikaris threw a haymaker, followed by a swift uppercut. Gil blocked both easily. As much as his technique and reactions weren't what they used to be when he was still pro, he was still as strong as ever. "Oh, so you do now, is what you're saying."

"Shut up," Gil grumbled, throwing a few punches of his own, as much as his heart wasn't really in it.

"What's got the ol' grizzly bear finally on somethin' else?" Ikaris chortled, having entirely too much fun roughing Gil up for his own amusement.

"You come here to spar or did you just want a therapy session?"

Ikaris threw a suckerpunch straight down the centre, nailing Gil in the teeth.

Gil swiped his tongue around his mouth and walked over to his corner, spitting the blood into his empty water bottle. "That's what I thought."

"Y'know, I was talkin' to one of those gals from across the hall on my way in." Gil felt his blood run cold. "Real cutie--maybe you should chat up the other one some time."

Gil's mind flashed to the idea of Ikaris, leaning against the wall, chatting up Thena--his lovely Thena. Ikaris was always a real heartthrob of the league, always had fans, always had admirers. Gil felt his blood rushing in his ears.

"I think she liked m-" Ikaris stumbled back as Gil laid into him. That was the guy who was the strongest in their weight class by far--maybe the strongest in their league at the time. He held his gloves up. "Shit, Gil!"

Gil only saw red, focused entirely on the thought of Ikaris flirting with his girlfriend mere minutes before coming in here and challenging him to a 'friendly match'. He gripped Ikaris' hair, pulling his head up. "You leave Thena out of this."

Ikaris grunted. "Who the fuck's Thena?"

"Huh?"

Ikaris pried one of his eyes open, sure to swell terribly by the time they were done. "Name's Sersi."

Oh. He...he had been talking to Sersi. Which made sense, since Thena was probably still in the studio practising, while Sersi was the one who usually left on time with the rest of the class.

Ikaris blinked his good eye at him. "Gil, man, I don't know what you're on about. But I haven't even met the other one. If you're-"

Gil dropped Ikaris, unceremoniously at that. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and pulling his gloves off. That was more than enough for today.

Ikaris grumbled as Gil helped him off the floor of the ring. "I didn't come here expressly to piss you off, believe it or not."

"Sorry, sorry," Gil murmured, helping Ikaris through the ropes and joining him on the bench. "Got a little...in my head."

Ikaris spat a little more blood into his own water bottle and raised a brow at Gil. "I saw the other one in the studio--blonde little thing? You and her...?"

Gil blushed, pulling out fresh water bottles for the both of them. "Something like that."

"I certainly hope it's more than 'something like that', Gilgamesh."

"Thena!" he blinked, looking up as she walked in with her usual lovely smile on her face. He stood, rushing over to her. "When did you come in?"

"I saw little of your fight, actually," she confessed to him. "I just peeked in to see what you were doing, and then I was worried about distracting you."

Gil fidgeted, guiding her by the shoulders further away from Ikaris' curious gaze. "That's okay. I'm sorry you had to see us going at it like idiots, though."

Thena smiled though, "I have seen plenty of fights backstage myself. I am no stranger to conflict."

Gil nodded. He didn't want to imagine what kind of damage ballerinas could do, if they all had the muscle strength and stamina that Thena had.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, raising a hand ever so delicately to the scuffs around where his headgear had been.

Gil chuckled, letting her take a feel for herself with her silky soft hands, actually glad for how cold they felt for once. "I'll be fine. Ikaris is an old friend from my pro days."

Thena glanced over Gil's shoulder briefly, nodding her head to the bloodied gentleman on the bench. She raised a brow at Gil, "that was what constitutes a friendly match?"

"Well," Gil shrugged, but left it at that, with no desire to admit that he'd completely lost it in a fit of jealousy. He took her hands in his. "You done for the day?"

She smiled up at him, nodding and letting him hold her hands, his warmth taking over the cold that she always seemed to have. "What about you?"

Ikaris stood from the bench, reaching for his bag and walking - more or less - in the direction of the changing rooms. "Don't let me keep you. Gil, I'll take y'out for a pint after my next match, aye?"

"Sure, man," Gil waved, actually grateful for Ikaris' miraculous moment of social awareness enough to excuse himself. He winced as Ikaris bumped into the wall next to the door a little, though.

Thena squeezed Gil's hand. "Perhaps I should tell Sersi your friend may be in need of a ride back to his hotel."

Gil chuckled. So, she had witnessed Ikaris chatting up Sersi, and perhaps the feeling was mutual between them. He felt as relieved as he did silly for worrying. "I think that's just what he needs. But what about us?"

"Us?" Thena gave him a coy smile. "Well, I thought we had plans for dinner at mine."

Gil leaned forward, pressing his face into her soft shoulder, inhaling her perfume. "That sounds perfect."

#Thenamesh Ballerina/Boxer AU #I love this au #I'm so glad people like it #Ikaris doesn't mean to be a dick #he's just...dumb #a chaotic neutral himbo #Gil is a lawful good himbo #peak golden retriever energy #he's going to get to lie on Thena's couch #with his head in her lap #so he's the real winner here

[glenncoco4]

He’ll Be Here

A/N: Had this idea before they started talking about adoption.

••••

“Dammit!”

The older blonde woman walks into the breakfast nook, just as her son quickly pull his hand back from the threaded needle in his hand. He’s been going at this project for a few hours now and she’s pretty sure she’s heard more profanities leave his mouth today than his entire life as a whole. “Marty, I told you I can do it if you want me to.”

“No, I want to do this.” He says stubbornly, sweeping his hair to the side before threading the needle back through the two pieces of cloth. 

“Well at this rate, that bear’s gonna have more blood on it than my grand baby will have inside her body.”

Though her words weren’t meant to hurt him they still stung none the less. Letting his head fall, he sighs in defeat. “Why am I doing this, it’s hopeless?”

A small smile crosses her face as she walks up to him, placing a kiss to the top of his head. “Because you love your wife and you know how much it would mean to her if you did.”

“Can you show me again?”

“Okay, but this is the last time.” She sends him a playful wink, both knowing good and well that she’d show him again no matter how many more times he asks. 

••••

Later that night as Deeks hands Kensi a clean plate, her brow furrows at the tiny red marks that are so clearly evident on his palms. Quickly taking the plate from him and putting it on the counter, she grabs both his hands, examining the patterns of red spots. “Baby, what on earth?”

“Oh, I’ve been getting acupuncture on my hands.”

She sends him a pointed glare, not believing the ridiculous lie as soon as it leaves his lips. 

He sighs in defeat, knowing that there’s no use in trying to lie to her about it because well...he sucks at lying to her. His plan was to give his beautiful bride and mother of his child the gift at the hospital after Thena was born, but things don’t always work out the way we plan. Though he does try one last time to sell his story about the marks on his hands. “Okay, I’ve been volunteering at the animal shelter.”

“And that explains the needle marks?”

“Yeah, they have porcupines now.”

“Sure like I believe that.”

“Yeah, that was pretty lame, huh.”

At the sudden eruption of fluttering, she places her hand on her belly, still in awe every time their little girl moves. Before she realizes it, he’s making his way out of the kitchen and into the living room, obviously trying to remove himself from further question. But if Kensi Blye Deeks is anything, its persistent, so she follows him as she tries to escape. “So you gonna tell me what’s really going on or am I going to have to find other ways to get you to talk?”

At that, he comes to a stop, a sly grin spreading to his face at the thought of those other tactics of hers that work oh so well on him. “I wouldn’t mind the other ways.”

The darkening of his eyes sends a warmth to her core and she’s momentarily distracted by the thought of him pressing her up against the wall and having his way with her. She’s left in a daze until it hits her that he’s distracting her once again. Placing her hands on her hips, she locks eyes with him. This time with a little more edge. 

“Fine. Sit down.”

She does as he asks and slowly sits down on the sofa, having a six month pregnant belly has been more challenging than she’d first thought, but it’s definitely worth it. As she situates herself against the throw pillows, he heads out the front door and quickly comes back, one hand staying behind him as he shuts the front door. “Before I show you, know that I tried my best and it may not look perfect.”

“Baby, just give it to me, I’m sure I’ll love it, whatever it is.”

Stepping in front of her with a shy smile, he slowly pulls out the object from behind his back, presenting the gift that he worked so hard on for her. His eyes stay on her, trying to gage her reaction. 

The brunette’s mouth opens in shock as she takes the handmade bear out of his grasp. Actually shock isn’t the right word, stupefied is more like it. She looks up from the stitching of BLYE in the fabric, meeting his eyes with tears in her own. The strain in her voice from the emotions swirling inside her can’t be helped. “You-you made this?”

“Yeah, your mom was able to find one of his old uniforms and mama showed me how to cut the pattern and then I sewed it together.”

“Hence the needle marks.”

He huffs a laugh, nodding in confirmation. “Hence the needle marks.”

The shaggy blonde takes a seat next to his wife as tears begin to flow freely down her cheeks, her finger delicately dances across the material of her father’s old marine uniform and a hint of a smile pulls at the corner of her lips. 

“Do you like it?”

“Like it?” She quickly turns her head, almost flabbergasted by his question. Her palm finds his scruffy jaw, thumb running back and forth across his sun-kissed skin. God how she loves this man. The vulnerability shining in his cerulean blues brings even more tears to her eyes. Leaning forward, she softly presses her lips to his. “It’s beautiful, baby, I love it.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She smiles, her lips finding his once again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His palm finds her swollen belly where their little miracle rests, his lips soon following after. “And I love you, princess.”

Sitting up, he pulls her back with him, resting against the soft couch cushions. Her finger delicately runs over the features of the bear once again. “I do have one question.”

“No, I didn’t line up the eyes before sewing them in.”

Tilting her head back, she smiles as her lips find the underside of his jaw. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

#Densi #Densi Fanfic #Kensi x Deeks #Mama K #Papa M #Hubby & Wifey #Kensi Blye Deeks #Marty Deeks #NCIS: LA #NCIS: LA Fanfic

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Witches, Chapter 26: back in the courtroom, and everything’s coming up as a shitshow, which is honestly how it always goes. Welcome to hell, Athena.

The second trial day of Themis is one of my favorites because there’s both Blackquill being entirely done with everything, and him showing for the first time that he’s got a bit of a heart left. Good shit.

[Seelie of Kurain Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

[Witches Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

---

Juniper sits on the lobby couch, her hands cradling a lone large sunflower that Athena brought her, watching Athena interrupt her pacing with jumping jacks. “Shouldn’t you take it easy, Thena?” she asks. She was rather green about ten minutes ago, but assured them that it was just the iron and stress of jail that left her that way, and that she would look properly human by the time she would stand before the judge and gallery. And in the elapsed time her skin has settled in its hue, if paler than she was yesterday, her fear still apparent. 

Athena whirls around with a wild glint in her eyes. The tired bags beneath them accentuate her crazed appearance. “I’m taking it easy! I’m fine! I’ve gotta get - be - ready to go!” She jogs in place; she hasn’t had both feet on the floor since she arrived. 

“Did you get enough sleep last night?” Apollo asks, knowing the answer is no. 

“Sleep? Huh?” Athena finally stops moving. “Yeah, sleep! Yeah I totally sleep! I’m fine!”

She sounds like him on his worst days. “That’s not exactly what I asked,” he says. Juniper stares back down into the center of the sunflower. “Maybe let’s just drop it. We’re not inspiring much faith in our client.”

“No,” Juniper says. She looks up. “I have complete faith in you, Thena.”

“O-oh.” From Athena’s face, she’s wondering if that faith is warranted. Apollo will make sure that it is. For both the girls’ sakes. 

“Guten Morgen.” All three of them jump. Klavier chuckles. “Ready to put on a show?”

“Do you have anything about the tape?” Apollo asks. Despite his best efforts, he had found himself wondering when this was all going to come crashing down - if somehow Prosecutor Blackquill would find out and put a stop to it, or if somehow it couldn’t even be proven that the tape was fabricated—

“And not even a ‘hello’ to start with!” Klavier says, still cheerily; he can’t really have expected anything else from Apollo, could he? There’s a trial starting in fifteen minutes and Apollo doesn’t know anymore who he thinks is the killer. “A bit rude, don’t you think? And nonetheless, I have a good-luck present to you both.”

“Guten Morgen, Prosecutor Gavin!” How did Apollo end up stuck with two people like this? Apollo’s probably more fluent in Khura’inese than they are in German (and for Athena, Spanish or Italian or French…), but he doesn’t go around flaunting it like he’s so worldly and cultured. (And he wouldn’t do that even if Khura’in wasn’t something he wishes he would forget.) “Do you have something for us?”

“Of course I do, Fräulein. I could hardly just leave one as lovely as yourself hanging, now could I?” Apollo rolls his eyes, hoping Klavier sees it. Klavier offers to Athena a small stack of papers. “There you are. A summary of the voiceprint analysis, proving that the voice in the tape is most assuredly, exactly the same clip as spoken in the mock trial.” Athena rifles through the pages. “You’ll also notice that there’s still analysis ongoing - hoping to discover what was originally on the tape before it was turned into fabricated evidence. It might give us some other clues, ja? But unfortunately we don’t know much more at this point than the length of the prior recording.”

“Well, maybe that could still help out, somehow,” Athena says. “Thank you! And—” She frowns. “Is this a second copy of the same thing? Wait, this one’s got more information about—”

“About the logistics of the analysis and who precisely down at the precinct was working it,” Klavier interrupts. “That packet is for Herr Samurai. I did not think you would appreciate me tipping your hand to him beforehand, but I imagined there might be more that Herr Prosecutor would like to know to be sure that you are not the ones inventing this wholecloth.”

Klavier made the same warning yesterday when they first discussed this. “Do you think he would?” Apollo asks. “Accuse us of that?”

“Hm.” Klavier considers the question for longer than Apollo would like, idly snapping his fingers. Athena retreats to the couch to discuss their new evidence with Juniper. “Truly, I do not imagine so. He plays a very threatening game, but when it comes to it he seems quite reasonable.”

Apollo thinks about Mayor Tenma’s trial, Blackquill’s dirty tricks that nearly forced the mayor into a false confession. “You and I have different standards of reasonable,” he says. Maybe he means relatively reasonable, that there’s so many other prosecutors who are even worse. 

“Perhaps,” Klavier agrees, “but Herr Samurai could be the most reasonable man and I would nonetheless leave you with this document trail.” His eyes, stormy blue and unwavering in their hue this entire conversation, but Apollo doesn’t remember whether or not this color is the Sight, harden. “I would hate to see your integrity as a lawyer called into question, especially over evidence that I offered you as assistance.” His jaw tightens, thinking, no doubt, of what Apollo has continued to think about since he arrived at Themis. With Phoenix.

This also seems like the most emotionally honest Klavier has been all week. “Thanks,” Apollo says. “I—”

—appreciate it, the sentence means to end, but movement behind Klavier catches Apollo’s eye, and the doors that lead out into the hall thump suddenly shut. “Hey!” Apollo calls. “Who’s—”

“What’s going on?” Athena asks. “Who’s there, did you see?”

“I don’t know,” Apollo says. “It might have been Hugh.” He thinks he saw a bit of the dark blue of the Themis uniform there. “Eavesdropping to figure out our strategy, no doubt.”

“I would expect him not to be the only one,” Klavier says, glancing back over his shoulder. “The cardboard paparazzi and the prosecutor Fräulein are rather nosy themselves, wouldn’t you agree? I’ll go chase them down and make sure they cause no further trouble for you.” He flashes a casual grin, as light and easygoing as he ever tries to be, but it is undercut for Apollo, and Apollo alone; Vongole materializes from the air next to him, red ears pricked and nose pointed at the door, her head held level with her shoulders. A creature ready to stalk, ready to hunt, to pounce, and Klavier barely turns for the doors and she springs, plunging through the door like it’s just a projection. But Klavier, when he gets to the door, without much haste, has to open it, reminding Apollo that it’s Vongole who doesn’t adhere to the physical world, not the door.

What’s she going to do, herd the wayward Themis students back around toward Klavier? Can she even do that if they can’t see her? Can she make them see her? God, Apollo hopes that corralling them is all she’ll do; Klavier’s got control over that hellhound, right? He does, Apollo’s seen that. No need to worry about that. Focus on the case.

(Apollo’s still going to worry about that.)

“Apollo, you ready?” Athena asks. 

“Yes!” Focus on the moment, the evidence, the trial. Forget Klavier and his haunted dog. “I’m Apollo Justice and I’m fine!” He feels better already, and a shaky grin draws across Athena’s face. “Okay, your turn. Ready?”

“I’m Athena Cykes! And I’m fine!”

-

“Ms Newman and Mr O’Conner have recanted their confessions made before yesterday’s adjournment, but you may expect, Your Baldness, to see them again in this courtroom, as I intend later to determine if they should be charged with perjury.”

Apollo has come to think that most of Blackquill’s lauded so-called psychological manipulations are really just brute intimidation that he pretends has more finesse than he actually does. Despite that, the question he finds himself with now is whether or not Blackquill is in as cheery of a mood as he is acting, grinning as he catches the court up on all that has progressed on the prosecution’s side of things. “Ms Woods likewise attempted to recant her confession, claiming it was made in the heat of the moment to” - he rolls his eyes, as if the disdain dripping through his voice wasn’t already making his opinion on the matter clear, and Athena’s expression hardens - “protect her friends, but given that she is already and continues to be the one on trial, that changes little of our situation.”

She did confess, didn’t she? In the midst of Robin yelling and Hugh interrupting, Juniper confessed too, trying to stop her friends from ruining their lives for her. And if he presumes Juniper is innocent, which he has to, because she’s their client, then that means when she confessed to murder, she lied; plainly and wholeheartedly, she lied. Which means that even someone half-fae can lie. 

“Very well,” the judge says. “And the photograph submitted yesterday of the victim and the defendant together minutes before the—”

“Unfortunately, we will find that evidence no longer relevant,” Blackquill interrupts. He is still smirking, even while forced to refute the hand he played yesterday. If this is an act, to unnerve Apollo, it’s working. Or if he’s genuinely amused, then it’s probably because he’s got something new up his sleeve that makes him not concerned with all the ways his case collapsed yesterday. “The art room clock runs fast and will not give us an accurate measure of the time. ‘Tis a pity for our time to have been wasted as such, but the bungling oaf of a detective responsible for overlooking this fact will assuredly be paying for his failure.”

Athena winces. “Poor Fulbright,” she whispers. 

Is Blackquill angry that he thinks Fulbright should have seen it - or is it misplaced anger, Blackquill sure that he would have noticed had he been on the scene investigating and angry that he has to rely on Fulbright, instead. (Is that why they keep spotting traces of Taka around? Blackquill thinking he can’t trust the observation skills of the detective? Taka didn’t notice the clock, either, for whatever that’s worth. Probably not easy for the bird to get into a building. How does it get out of jail?)

“Now,” Blackquill says sharply, and the flashes of mirth he showed a minute ago have vanished. “Today, I intend to prove to you that the accused is the only person who could have moved the body. And to that end, the prosecution calls its first witness.”

-

Hugh O’Conner did assure Athena that he would be testifying today, and true to that word, he takes the witness stand first. His claim is that he saw Juniper moving the high-jump mat that would’ve been needed to move the body without bruising it; he claims to have seen this from a vantage point that would have been impossible, until Blackquill obliquely reminds them of the crane that was present the night of the murder, as involved in the stage setup. This makes sense - the weird thing about it isn’t the statement itself, but Hugh’s reaction to it. He looks pained, clutching the side of his neck in a way Apollo has come to notice him doing each time he is stressed and struggling to regain his footing in an argument. 

“That’s - you’ve said enough, Prosecutor Blackquill!” Is Hugh trying to plead with him or threaten him? Neither, Apollo thinks, is liable to work. “You promised!”

Blackquill laughs, a harsh sound from the back of his throat. “Did I?” he asks. “I recall nothing of the sort. What I do recall is that you came to me blubbering about making a deal that I would keep quiet in exchange for information, but you should have taken care to extract that promise for me before you went ahead and offered me your every secret like a blithering fool.”

Blackquill has a way with words that leaves Apollo incredibly worried about the fates of everyone who is in any way involved with him. Like he’s just waiting for the opportunity to snatch away the souls of anyone who isn’t careful who dares speak with him. Is that part of who he is - what he is - or is it one of his actual psychological manipulations? And is it the witness he means to scare with his phrasing, or the defense? 

“Ah, well, if Golden Boy will not take the chance to lift the weight of truth from his shoulders, then I will tell you,” Blackquill says. Hugh, with his hand still clapped tight to his neck like he’s trying to staunch the flow from a wound, makes a kind of undignified whimpering sound. “He was up in that crane, and not simply mucking about there for fun. He does, rather, work part-time as a crane operator.”

“A high school student!” the judge exclaims. “Operating a crane!”

“No!” Hugh snaps. “The prosecution - there’s no proof that I was operating the crane! The prosecution might be lying!”

Blackquill laughs, and makes no move to argue. “I don’t know where this is going,” Athena says in a low voice, “because this is the point that Prosecutor Blackquill wants to make, but…” Louder, she adds, her voice ringing across the courtroom, “I bet we can prove it was you.”

Which they do, for whatever good it may or may not be about to do them, and the judge is still hung up on a high schooler operating a crane, rather than what Hugh would or wouldn’t be able to see from the vantage point of the crane, but Hugh splutters and protests about how brilliant and talented he is and that’s why. Blackquill watches him, smirking, waiting for his failure of an argument to trail away into nothingness. Hugh goes silent halfway through saying something about practicing archery one-handed, and Blackquill’s smirk splits open into a grin. “Dispense with this inane charade, Golden Boy.” He doesn’t wait for Hugh’s response and continues speaking over the witness’ begging. “Now, we will establish, for the sake of argument, that the age range of high school seniors ends at the upper limit of nineteen - still, legally, too young to operate heavy machinery. That, however, does not apply to Mr O’Conner, does it, now?”

“But he is a high school senior,” Athena says. “Are you saying he’s not around that age?”

Blackquill slams his palm on the bench. “Indeed, he is not. Golden Boy here is twenty-five.” The serious expression that he held on his face for a fraction of a second breaks down into raucous laughter, punctured by his further slapping the bench in uncontained amusement. Apollo really doesn’t like seeing him in a good mood. He’s only ever entertained by someone else’s bad fortune. “He took a seven year break from his schooling!”

They all had secrets - Juniper, Robin, Hugh. The courtroom is quiet; is it ever this quiet after a revelation, without a breath of murmured shock. “Eh?” Athena utters faintly. “Come again?”

“Twenty-five,” Blackquill repeats gleefully. He nods to Taka and the hawk snatches up a paper in its talons, launching itself into the air and making straight for the judge. “All in the school’s official paperwork, as you will find.”

“Twenty-five?” Apollo echoes, sure they’re all going to ask this in turn, a round-table of disbelief. “He’s - he’s older than me?” He’s not good at eyeballing ages, he knows that, and he knows that everyone always thinks him baby-faced and younger than he is, and Hugh could be like that. People in their twenties all look all over the place. How’s anyone to know? But on the other hand, what twenty-year-old, after taking a gap year for seven successive years out of high school, would want to go back to high school all over again? Apollo sure wouldn’t. But maybe instead of going to college to be a lawyer, Hugh went back to a lawyer high school because those teenagers are at his same maturity level.

(Solid burn. If he didn’t get heckled every time he was the slightest bit snide to a witness, he would say it out loud.)

“Seven years?” Athena asks. Blackquill might as well just go over the entire situation again, if they’re all going to ask for clarification on each and every tiny point. “But since you’re such a genius” - she does a remarkable job of not sounding wholly derisive when she says it - “wouldn’t taking a seven year vacation make you boring real quick?” She pauses, frowns, playing her words back in her head. “Make you bored.”

Her first one was probably correct, too. Does Hugh know how to have a conversation that isn’t about his own greatness?

“Heh.” Hugh’s recovery from his shock tips him back into the smugness he always seems to carry. “There’s the dull mindless vacations you ordinary plebians take, and then…” He falters, for a moment. “Even geniuses make mistakes,” he says, resuming with an entirely different thread of argument. “The ones I make just, you know, lost me seven years.”

Rising in Apollo’s stomach is the same kind of fear that Blackquill’s particulars of phrasing invoke. “Er, Mr O’Conner,” he begins, ignoring the shock that Athena sends his way, and bracing himself for the way everyone in the courtroom is going to respond to the utterly insane question he is about to ask, “are you actually, like, actually twenty-five, or just - you know, legally, that it’s been twenty-five years since you were first - you were born.”

He knows that at least half of the gallery is going to think he’s an idiot, have some perception of theirs confirmed about how lawyers are all schooling and no sense in their heads; even Athena stares like he’s just lost his mind. Hugh, though, blanches, his whole body tensing and his shoulders drawing inward. Blackquill’s cuffs clank as he hits the bench and Hugh flinches and nearly falls over with fright. Apollo jumps, too. He’d forgotten that Blackquill as much as anyone would hear this question and would get to respond to it in his typical magic-denying ways.

“What a question, Justice-dono,” he drawls. Apollo raises his chin defiantly. It’s a good question, because all the world around them is crazy. “No doubt a matter first brought to your attention by the rather unique situation of some other golden boy of our acquaintance.” His eyebrows raise and his mouth twists in amusement. Apollo’s heart skips and then stops. How does Blackquill know? It seems unlikely - though technically possible - that Klavier would have told him; the alternative is that Blackquill knows enough to know, to realize, when it took even Phoenix several strokes of luck and coincidence to piece it together. Blackquill shouldn’t be saying this. He shouldn’t know. And why of all times choose this as the moment to drop his pretense of disbelief? To psych Apollo out some more? To give Klavier, up in the gallery, a slap in the face for helping Apollo and Athena?

“But suffice to say, we will find that an irrelevant question,” Blackquill continues. “What matters is the legal age of the witness, that has so allowed him to work the discussed job as a crane operator. He was, therefore, up in the crane with the vantage point to see the accused dragging the mat in preparation to move the body. You must agree how clear this is, and that there is no need to deliberate this much any further.”

Oh. Right. Juniper. This is, after all, her trial, and the reason they have gone down this strange road still has to do with her case, and what she did or didn’t do, and Hugh did or didn’t see, on the morning that the body was discovered.

Back to the fight.

-

Hugh lied about ever seeing the body on stage.

It’s an utterly incomprehensible lie, in Apollo’s most just and honest opinion; it’s also one of a host of shady moves Hugh has made. Though the blood Juniper saw on his hands was his own, from trying to sneak a look at the mock trial script and instead finding Myriam’s spring-loaded razor blade-protected script envelope, and her suspicion against him in that regard can be discounted - well, there’s still his grades, and this, about the body.

If the body was moved during the mock trial - moved in fact at the moment Phoenix and Athena heard the shattering of the statues on stage that drew them outside to discover the body - then Hugh and Robin have airtight alibis, on the floor in front of a crowd for the whole mock trial. Apollo had his eyes on them the whole time. But Juniper, ever-multitasking Juniper, the conductor of her show, the only person alive at that time with all the secrets of her script, was not always down on the floor playing the defendant. She was up at the back of the hall in the sound booth, moving back and forth even during Professor Means’ speech. At any of those times, she could have slipped out to the art room, to send Courte’s body to the stage down the banner wire.

All they’ve done is help Blackquill build a more convincing case against Juniper, so convincing that Apollo can’t find within him a single point to dispute. They missed something; he knows it, he has to know it, he has to believe it to the end. But where? Can he object on the grounds that they need to know why Hugh lied about seeing the body? Would Blackquill let that stand?

Hugh starts to laugh. Hugh starts to laugh in the broken, hysterical way of a killer cornered, except he’s about to get away free with Juniper’s verdict. “Behold my brilliance!” he cries, his words breathless and interrupted by his own frantic, frenzied laughter. “Listen well as the rare genius of Hugh O’Conner reveals to the world the secrets of his perfect crime!”

Apollo looks at Athena. Athena glances back at Apollo. “Er,” she says. “What? Why’s this - why again?”

Because this, the wild confessions, happened yesterday too. To hell with this trial. Hugh appears feverish, his hair matting to his forehead and neck with sweat, his eyes darting all around the courtroom, jumping from Apollo and Athena to Blackquill to Juniper and never settling on any of them. “The murder, moving the body, the cover-up, all my works of genius! My great and perfect crime, bow in awe and stand to arrest me! I am confessing, am I not? You have your killer here!”

“Is he serious?” Apollo asks. He’s afraid he is. He’s seen too many other people unravel in this same manner, but the game was up for all of them. Hugh’s game - what the hell is his game?

“I think he’s serious,” Athena says. “Serious, and seriously suddenly cracked.”

“Enough!” Blackquill snarls. Taka shrieks in an angry echo. “You have a perfect alibi, not a perfect crime! And you dare to stand here and further act the mad fool to delay this trial from its inevitable outcome!” He fixes Hugh with his dark eyes, but this time, Hugh doesn’t shrink away. That is definitely stupidity, not bravery, on his part. “I will have no mercy for you should you not this instant stand down.”

“I will never!” Hugh shouts back. “I have testimony that will prove to you, the utter perfection with which I always act! You’ll doubt me, but in truth I used a body double at the mock trial! It wasn’t me at all, not about to lose and not with the alibi! I, the real me, slipped out and had the run of the campus! I moved the body, I’m the killer, and Juniper’s innocent!”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Athena says. 

“I must ask of both the defense and prosecution,” the judge says. “Does this testimony make any sense at all, in the slightest?”

“No,” Apollo answers. 

“Oh, good,” the judge says. “I thought I had just become suddenly, extremely confused.”

“The witness is the one suddenly, extremely confused,” Blackquill says. “And it would be charitable, to call him confused, instead of saying, for instance, that he is a bloody lunatic.”

“You’re a witch, aren’t you?” Hugh demands. As though to make the point for him, Blackquill’s eyes flash silver. “Don’t you know anything about doppelgangers? You know, changelings getting switched for people? You think creatures like that are not okay with being an accessory to crime?” A sour taste gathers in Apollo’s mouth. He thinks of Vera, of Kristoph, of Klavier in the gallery, that life-shaping trauma turned into Hugh’s latest desperate lie in the service of - what? To what end? “I had a—”

“Enough!” Blackquill roars, and it is, indeed, so much more of a bellow than his usual low snarling interruptions. Athena lets out a small scream and stumbles back into the wall behind them. Even Hugh shrinks toward the witness stand, seeming to recognize that he’s taken this impossible declaration a step too far. “That you know such words to use them does not mean you have the damndest understanding of what they truly entail!” He slams both fists in tandem on the bench, and Athena clasps both of her hands over Widget to muffle its surprised swearing.

“You claim familiarity with the concepts as part of your mad gambit, make a mockery of the gravity of such matters, and call me to my face a witch as though that would convince me of the veracity of your statements - yet you never pause to think that perhaps whatever I am, I also bear the ability to see through your pernicious bullshit.” Hugh’s mouth flaps open, and he shuts it without a word. “Spare this court your lies,” Blackquill continues. He has stopped yelling now, his voice merely as low and deadly as it ever is. “There is only one of you, as there ever has been - as is most fortuitous for us, as you the sole dunce as you are have made more than your share of trouble, and another of you would be far more than unbearable.”

Hugh’s mouth opens again like a fish deprived of water, but it seems to Apollo that Blackquill’s outburst has drawn to its close. “Shit,” Athena whispers, her and not Widget this time. “I’ve never heard him that angry.”

Have they? He has been furious at Fulbright, over stupid witnesses, over cases. Professional anger. This is different; this seems a personal chord, and a very disharmonious one, struck, and painfully enough to drop the game he’d made of it prior, denying right to Apollo’s face that monsters, yokai, and magic could ever exist. And is it painful to him the way it infuriates Apollo, on behalf of someone else, or is this another clue in the puzzle, the question, of what is Prosecutor Simon Blackquill?

“Now,” Blackquill says, his calm and his smirk returned, “Your Baldness, where we left off. The verdict.”

“But it’s - hey! Defense!” Hugh, gripping the witness stand, turns on them next. “You have that weird device, don’t you? For crazy testimonies like mine?”

“Widget isn’t weird!” Athena protests. Apollo could object to that. “And I’m not going to waste him on something this plainly ridiculous—”

“We don’t have any objections otherwise,” Apollo reminds her. “The only thing left otherwise is the verdict. There’s nothing worse that can happen from giving this a shot.”

“Oh,” Athena says, blanching as she realizes that she was about to let the trial reach its verdict and damn Juniper to prison. She clears her throat. “Well,” she says loudly, “against some of my better judgment, I would like to conduct a short psychoanalytic session with the witness.”

“As a judge, I feel this to be beyond my better sense as well, yet I also do not feel as though I should deny you.” The judge glances around the courtroom, pondering what must be yet another in the Wright Anything Agency’s long, long line of unprecedented incidents. “Well, then. Prosecutor Blackquill, I will ask your opinion. I trust you have no object… ah.” 

The courtroom doors slam, seeming to rattle the whole room, and rattling Apollo even more is the empty prosecution’s bench. “Ah, Your Honor,” says one of the bailiffs by the doors, eyes still blankly fixated on where they closed. “The prosecution said, and I quote, ‘Rubbish! We will be out on a stroll’ and left, Detective Fulbright with him.”

At least he isn’t loose unsupervised, but holy hell, is there nothing that Blackquill can’t get away with? (Nothing short of murder, anyway.)

“I must suppose he would have lodged an objection in his parting words if he took issue with Ms Cykes’ plan.” The judge nods once, and decisively. “Very well. Ms Cykes, you may proceed with your therapy session-slash-cross-examination.”

“You’re up, Widget.” Athena draws up the emotional analysis screen and over her shoulder, Apollo watches it load. He can’t help but find the whole process fascinating, no matter that he’s seen it before, and he wonders how many times he’ll have to see it until he gets used to it. Knowing that Athena has the little gadget taking pictures almost constantly doesn’t change his amazement with the way she can compile it all into new mock-ups of scenes discussed in the testimony, or how seamlessly she does it. A large part of him still isn’t sure that there’s not magic involved, somehow woven into the technology. “Now, Mr O’Conner, please repeat your testimony!”

Hugh inhales deeply, his eyes still darting about, like he’s suddenly trying to remember the spur-of-the-moment co-called “testimony” he blurted. “All right,” he says. “I’ll say this simple enough that even mouth-breathers like you can understand. I used a body double! That wasn’t really me at the mock trial! And it wasn’t really me who was about to lose, of course. I slipped out while my doppelganger handled the mock trial, and I had full run of the campus. So it’s me who’s the killer, not Juniper. She’s innocent!”

“Well, he sure wasn’t kidding when he said it was crazy testimony,” Athena mutters, swiping through the pages on which she lists each sentence of Hugh’s testimony and the associated emotions. All of Widget’s projected screens flash bright green, as it blares out the alarm that warns it is overloaded by the emotional input. How Athena, with her sensitive hearing, tolerates that sound, Apollo will never know. “Right now, we’re getting an overflow reading on happiness, which is weird, considering he’s confessing to murder.”

“Maybe he’s just delighted by how the rest of us can’t understand his brilliance,” Apollo says. “But I’m guessing you think there’s something more going on.”

“Mhm.” He can’t tell if Athena was listening or is just mumbling to herself. She flips back and forth between two parts of the testimony, too fast to actually be reading over the sentences again; her eyes follow the images that she has placed with the words. Then she finally looks up. “So, Mr O’Conner, yesterday you told us that you didn’t care at all about Ms Woods anymore.”

Apollo glances to the defendant’s chair, where poor Juniper looks distraught, red-faced from crying and now wide-eyed with shock, staring at Hugh. “That’s right,” Hugh says, about as smoothly as he’s managing to say anything now. A silent sob shudders across Juniper’s thin shoulders. “She told Professor Courte my secret, and I know she wants nothing to do with me now.” 

Juniper shakes her head, her mouth moving, whispering something Apollo can’t make out across the courtroom, but Athena probably could, were her attentions not rightly fixed on the witness. If he had to guess, had to bet on it, from the rest of her body language, she’s probably saying, that’s not true. 

“So now I don’t care about her either.” Hugh laughs dismissively, but his eyes still move uneasily, and his hand clutches his neck. He’s still lying. “What, you think my confession has something to do with her? It doesn’t! It’s about one thing, and that’s the truth, the truth that everyone in this courtroom was too inferior to figure out!”

“No, objection!” Athena slaps her hand to the bench, through Widget’s hologram screen. “This whole testimony, you’ve felt great joy - so much that I can barely hear anything else! You’re happy that you could play a part in setting Juniper free.” She draws her hand back and props her hands on her hips. “People usually don’t feel like you do when they’re broken down enough to confess to murder.”

“So then, this is another confession trying to protect Juniper?” Apollo asks. Meaning it’s a false confession, meaning Hugh isn’t the killer after all. Like Phoenix thought, against all the evidence, on a hunch.

“It is,” Athena says. “He does care about her, without question.”

But if not Hugh, they still don’t have any evidence of anyone else, and they’ve looped back around to—

The courtroom doors slam again. “Figured it out, have you?” Blackquill asks. He whistles sharply and Taka returns to his shoulder from wherever it was hiding. Taka was still in the courtroom, then? Apollo glances around, wondering where it went, wondering if Blackquill’s dramatic timing is perfect because he was following the whole conversation via the hawk left behind. He makes his way back to the bench, without any great haste, and scratches Taka beneath the chin as he continues, “That testimony was naught but a great tangle of lies. May we agree now that the killer is the one person permitted to move freely out of sight in the lecture hall - that is, the accused herself. We need not waste more time deliberating this nonsense.”

“But you haven’t figured it out!” Hugh protests. Blackquill’s face darkens. “The trick behind my body-double stunt!”

“Would one even presume it to be true,” Blackquill says dryly, but lacking even an ounce of amusement in the hard line of his mouth and his shadowed eyes, “you did tell us in the beginning how it was that you claimed to have a doppelganger.”

“I think I’m gonna agree with Prosecutor Blackquill on this one,” Apollo says. A small kernel of doubt has dug its way through his prior certainty, and he wishes that Phoenix had been the one to watch the mock trial, instead. He could have noticed - if he’d thought to look, and he would have, right? He’s that cautious or paranoid, right? - whether or not Hugh was the same person, and human, the whole way through. Apollo just knows that the Hugh in the mock trial didn’t stray from the bench, didn’t seem to disappear or slough eyes off of him for even a brief moment - and still, still he doesn’t trust himself to be sure. Not when the fae could be involved. “But if we quit here, then Juniper is found guilty.”

“So the best of the bad options is to play along,” Athena says. She quickly taps out a few commands with her gloved hand on the screen. “Okay, let’s see here. What else can we find out?”

Hugh’s continues testimony is just as rambling and confused as before, tripping over itself and tangling itself up in knots that will only snare Juniper deeper. It’s pathetic to watch him falling apart as he is: certain that Juniper is innocent but too afraid of the corruption in the legal system to believe that the plain truth can ever win out, and desperate for some affirmation that despite his grades being bought (without his knowledge, which Apollo notes is definitely interesting) his friends could still possibly love him. This is not Apollo’s field of expertise, but he has Athena, Athena with her ears and Widget, and she manages beautifully. He’d tell her that he’s impressed, but Blackquill has been waiting to pounce, and with Hugh recanting his confession, pounce he does. 

“This roundabout trial has returned us once again to the point I have been making: that the only person who lacks an alibi is the accused.” Blackquill folds his arms and taps a finger against his head. The chains rattle. “Consider that, Cykes-dono, and finally realize that your friend’s guilt is the truth you have so valiantly sought.”

“Did we really spend all that time getting nowhere?” Apollo asks. He casts his mind back over Hugh’s testimony. Doppelganger nonsense and more doppelganger nonsense; such useful information, all around. “This is exhausting.”

Athena isn’t listening. She frowns down at Widget’s Mood Matrix screen, which has updated to show that all of the emotions in Hugh’s voice have been cataloged and cleared, and it winks out of existence, only for Athena to immediately bring back up some of her case notes. “Hold on a minute, Your Honor, Prosecutor Blackquill.” She swipes the screen to display a floor plan of the lecture call, with the balcony seats for Courte and Means clearly marked. (Does the head of the prosecutions’ course not have enough seniority to join either of them in the balcony seating? Didn’t Phoenix say they all got fired a few years back?) “If we have someone else who doesn’t have an alibi, then we need to continue the trial, correct?”

“Of course,” the judge says. “But after so much thorough investigation and debate, can such a person even exist?”

“Where are we going with this?” Apollo asks Athena. He feels like someone scrambled his brains. 

She rests her finger above the marked defense’s bench in the lecture hall diagram. “Remember how Hugh has been insistent on seeing this balcony seat empty?” She moves her finger diagonally to point to the seat noted to be Means’. “He thought that was because it was Courte’s, and she was dead at the time. But it isn’t.”

“So if Professor Means wasn’t where he was supposed to be—”

“Your Honor!” Athena calls. “However roundabout this testimony has been, we have arrived at one statement of truth. That balcony seat was empty, meaning that Professor Means wasn’t where he was supposed to be during the mock trial!”

“Oh please,” Blackquill sneers. “The whole of the lecture hall heard him give his speech!”

“It bored me half to death,” Apollo adds. He doesn’t remember what was actually said, just that it became a buzzing in his ears within about forty seconds, as some leftover instincts from college assured him that there would be nothing worth remembering.

“It could have been pre-recorded, right?” Athena says. “Then the professor could have given his speech, while he was wherever else on campus!”

“Wait!” Hugh interrupts. “You don’t - are you seriously accusing Professor Means? He’s been trying to help this whole time!” Apollo doesn’t believe that, but he can’t tell if Hugh believes it, or if his nervous habits are now simple shock at where Athena has taken this case. “It’s crazy to say that he - I mean, he was the one who gave me the tape recorder to take to the police!”

“The tape?” 

Apollo asks at the same time Athena does, and they stare at each other; understanding and alarm start to dawn behind Athena’s eyes. “Athena,” Apollo says. “We have to get Professor Means on the witness stand.”

She purses her lips and nods decisively. “Mr O’Conner, did you just say that Professor Means gave you that phony tape?”

“Phony?” Hugh echoes. “No, I - he gave it to me and told me to go to the police and say I found it in the art room, but it’s not - what do you mean, phony—”

“And it didn’t seem suspicious for him to tell you to lie?” Apollo demands. This goddamn school, he swears - Hugh probably wouldn’t even have an issue with the lying, would have been sure that it meant instead that Professor Means had some kind of shady-but-ultimately-justified plan for Juniper’s defense, and who was he to question?

“Apollo, this isn’t the time,” Athena warns, her eyebrows drawing together. He follows her narrow-eyed gaze to watch Blackquill, his hand on his chin, smirking to himself, pondering something. Maybe whether he can add that to Hugh’s perjury charges. 

“Defense, please refrain from hurling unsubstantiated accusations as you are by calling the evidence ‘phony’,” the judge says. “Unless you can—”

“We can prove it!” Athena interrupts, smacking her palms on the bench like she’s about to try and vault it. “This tape we discussed yesterday, the voice of our client shouting ‘You’re a goner!’, was faked by reusing audio from the mock trial video! We have evidence about the, um, about the evidence!”

Taka lands on the bench, its head twitching back and forth, expectantly waiting. “Hang on, which one of these is which - here!” Athena offers one of Klavier’s evidence packets to the hawk, which blinks at her in almost acknowledgement before it returns across the courtroom to Blackquill. He intently studies each page in turn, the seconds passing in excruciating slowness as they wait for his response. On reaching the end, he tosses back his head, hair falling in front of his eyes, and lets out a loud, sharp laugh.

“Is there an issue, Prosecutor Blackquill?” the judge asks.

“There is not,” Blackquill says. Could’ve fooled me, Apollo thinks. The prosecutor makes a dismissive flick of his fingers and Taka, still with the papers clutched in its beak, heads off to the judge. “I concede that, as asserted and evidenced by the” - he forces out a cough and then loudly clears his throat - “defense, that the evidence on the tape was falsified.” Apollo has to stop himself from turning his head to glance up toward the gallery, wondering where Klavier sits. “However, are not the odds greatest that our lying dullard of a witness merely overlooked the professor in the balcony?”

“We can’t know for sure until we ask him!” Athena fires back. “We can’t overlook any possibilities!”

The judge strikes his gavel twice. “My opinion on the matter,” he says, when they have both fallen to silence, Athena glaring furiously at Blackquill, and Blackquill unbothered, watching Taka preen its wing feathers, “is that it would be premature to pass a verdict without having properly examined a possible witness oversight. And to answer that question, I believe it would be best to ask Professor Means himself, and therefore to call him as a witness.”

Apollo lets out his breath, but the tightness in his chest remains. This is the one guiding piece of advice that Phoenix gave: if you see the opportunity to get him on the stand, take it. 

Now they’re on their own. 

-

“Good afternoon. I would like to thank you all for being here today. This mock trial, the crown event of…”

Means’ speech was ten minutes long. 

Apollo forgot about that, honestly. 

They’re searching for some sort of hint that the speech was pre-recorded, some kind of discrepancy between his words and what they know to be true of the day. Athena assured Means that they weren’t accusing him of anything now, just wanted to be sure of the truth of the matter of the speech and the balcony seating - and she said it with her face drawn solemnly across, her shoulders held stiff and her hands squeezing into fists at her sides. She lied. She suspects him. They’ll be accusing him later. And Means at the witness stand loses his trademark smile to glower at Athena whenever she looks away. 

Blackquill pays no attention to anyone, his back to the court, his elbows propped up on the bench behind him, his head slumped forward. He had said - not really directed at anyone in particular - to wake him up when this was concluded. Apollo no longer thinks he’s joking, watching his shoulders rise and fall with the slow, steady breathing pattern of someone asleep. Taka, in imitation of its master, ducks its head beneath its wing.

Are neither of them actually going to listen? Blackquill not even try to assess the details for himself?

Apollo tears his eyes away from the opposite bench. The speech, focus on the speech. Athena’s hand flits over a blank Widget screen that she intended to use for notes, doodling flowers and swirls all across the edges. There’s a shape that Apollo presumes to be a bowling pin until she adds the beak to the penguin. She isn’t keyed in to the speech, either. It’s testimony, the worst kind of testimony, where they have to make it through an untold number of minutes of Means reminiscing about his own long-ago days as a Themis student, and how what he learned there became critical in his days as a real lawyer, before he returned again to Themis to instruct a new generation.

Was it in school that he learned that forging evidence worked, or was he like Phoenix, in a real trial back to the wall, nothing but that or losing? Are monsters born or made, and how are they made? What does it take to break an honest lawyer, if ever he began that way?

The video was to record the mock trial, not the speech before it; the camera in the lecture hall is fixed on the floor, the benches where Robin and Hugh stand, and the witness stand that Juniper travels back and forth from. They obviously can’t see the balconies - otherwise there would be an easy answer to this matter - but the audience is visible, students restless whispering to each other or leaning their heads in their hands or on their desks. Apollo wonders where he was sitting, if he can see himself. 

The judge’s head droops and snaps back up, guiltily glancing around to assess whether anyone else noticed.

Professor Means, on the recording of the speech that may have been pre-recorded, interrupts himself to snap at the audience to wake up. The judge’s eyes pop open, and something clatters like he knocked his gavel to the floor; Athena’s arm jerks across her notes page, scribbling across her penguin drawing. “I’m awake, I’m awake!” she yelps, turning panicked to Apollo. 

Blackquill doesn’t twitch.

This still isn’t even evidence that the speech wasn’t pre-recorded. If this is how Means always sounds, he would have known at this point, about eight minutes in, students would be nodding off. He easily could have scripted that for authenticity.

Athena adds angry eyebrows to her drawn penguin and adds what looks like a ball of lint next to it. Is that supposed to be a fluffy baby penguin? 

The audio ends with a click. Apollo registers that the words that ended the speech were words that heralded the end of a speech, and already he doesn’t remember what. He shakes his head to clear out the static. He was supposed to find something useful in there. Something that meant it was pre-recorded. He glances at Athena. Her eyes are huge. So she didn’t hear anything, either.

“Listen well, Cykes-dono - if you subject us to this torturous tedium without due reason, I shall have your head.” Blackquill still hasn’t moved. He slowly tips his head back and turns to cast a cold stare onto Athena.

“Didn’t he nap the whole time?” Apollo mutters, but Athena doesn’t seem to be in the mood for humor. And Apollo shouldn’t be, either. They’re this close to a turnabout, and this close to a loss. Trucy calls it his “tightrope defense act”, and he hates the descriptor even if it isn’t wrong.

“Hey! Apollo!” someone hisses. He expects it to be Trucy, just thinking of her, but when he turns, and Athena with him, there’s Phoenix, hanging over the edge of the gallery. “Catch!”

“Wh—” Apollo fumbles with the object Phoenix just tossed at him, finding the magatama in his hands. “Why—”

“Mr Wright!” the judge scolds, whackling his gavel several times in swift succession. “I’m sure you must want to be behind the bench, but please, this court does not want any liability should you fall and crack your head!”

Yeah, liability for the ankle injury he’d probably incur from that. “Sorry, Your Honor!” Phoenix calls back with a sharp grin, but he only leans further down. “Listen to the end again, Apollo. The last minute or so.”

“But why—” The magatama is for glamours, and glamours are on people, and they’re listening to a recording of Means’ speech, not him speaking directly to them.

“Exactly why you think - I’ll explain the details later, when—” Phoenix jerks backwards as Taka dives, talons outstretched, for his face. Several gasps and shrieks arise from the gallery around him. “When this bird isn’t around! Good luck!” He scrambles away, Taka in pursuit.

“So,” Athena says. “What—”

“Listen to the ending again,” Apollo says. He squeezes his fingers tightly around the magatama. Please, please, he thinks, without any idea who he is appealing to, give me something—

The words hit his ears with a sharper clarity than before. He can think now, his brain no longer buzzing. Even in this little bit, Apollo understands that most of Means’ speech was all fluff and no substance, all inane and nothing meaningful. And then the sign-off: “Once again, our pure white Lady Justice will watch over all of you today. Pay attention now and one day, with the wisdom of our grand academy and your own experience, you may make a difference. Now, let the mock trial begin!"

What’s this Lady Justice that he’s referring to? That was the statue Athena put back together on-stage, with Klavier, but there’s a very similar statue standing very apparent in the center of the lecture hall floor, right in front of the mock-up judge’s bench. A statue that is, however, very much not white.

“Athena,” he says, and her head snaps around in a startled way that says he just knocked her out of another boring speech-induced reverie. “I’ve got something.”

-

Not enough on its own, but together with Klavier’s evidence, and that only breaks Means down into a new set of lies, and worse ones than ever.

“Fine, yes. I had pre-recorded my speech, but I assure you, the reason was not that which you think.” Athena’s eyebrows disappear beneath her hairline and she casts a doubtful side-eye Apollo’s way. Means peers over his glasses at them and continues, “Ms Woods came to me asking that I should do so - record my speech - and come speak with her in the audio room during the opening of the mock trial. There, she told me that she had committed murder and wished that I would defend her. She told me as well that this would happen - the suspicion you cast upon me - as I lose my alibi with the pre-recorded speech, and thus become an accomplice or suspect.” His stony features relax. “But when I said that I would defend Juniper as her attorney, I meant it, because it was the humane thing to do.”

“He can’t be serious,” Apollo says. “There’s no way. This is all too contrived. But he’s good at coming up with bullshit on the fly.” Unless he thought ahead far enough, to this eventuality, and pre-planned the best lies to cover his ass.

“Juniper would never!” Athena shouts. “There’s no way! This is all a bunch of shit.”

“Allow me to be perfectly frank.” Means lightly taps the end of his staff on the floor. “Juniper has taken my teachings to heart. That I would prove her and her two friends innocent was the result she sought, and two that end, she threatened and coerced me, her professor, to do her bidding.”

“And I may only imagine that you found such ruthless tactics to be impressive and admirable,” Blackquill says dryly. Shouldn’t those underhanded strategies be right up his alley; shouldn’t he himself be impressed? As far as Apollo knows, he’s drawn the line at falsifying evidence, but there’s a litany of shady shit that he’s toed the line of. And the murder, of course. The murder that he did and was convicted of.

“Oh, yes,” Means agrees. “What she did was most clever of her, which is why I agreed to defend her. Her capacity for deviousness surprised me, at first, though the more I think on it the more I understand that I should have seen this coming.”

Athena folds her arms, glaring daggers at Means, but she’s gone strangely quiet taking in the lies rather than yelling back. What’s she thinking? What’s she waiting for? Apollo isn’t sure what he’s waiting for - Means to keep digging his own grave talking about his corrupt methodologies, maybe. Get him brought up on additional corruption charges after they prove him a murderer.

“It’s really the hallmark of her kind, is it not?” Means continues, and Athena’s mouth presses even tighter together. Blackquill tilts his head just ever-so-slightly to the side, barely more than a twitch, studying Means, and waiting. “This sort of cunning self-serving cruelty, so typical of the actions of - well. We shall say that anyone may be cruel, but there is a particular and exemplary manner of it displayed here that you will also find to be quite… fae. And rather more than in half as one could first assume of this defendant.”

“Pardon?” The judge blinks in shock. “I am not sure I understand the relevance that this remark holds.”

Does he not realize? Does he know, or somehow have these things passed him by every trial? Juniper shrinks into herself, her hands covering her face. “It has none, Your Baldness,” Blackquill says, his disparaging gaze turning from Means to Juniper. “And before your protest I had been about to lodge my own objection, that the witness had best stick to discussing what it is that the defendant has done, and leave aside that which she is.”

Juniper lowers her hands, her eyes wide, but Blackquill isn’t looking at her anymore. Was it her honor that he was defending, or that of the fae in general? His responses to fae-related remarks have seemed - like he’s taking them personally.

“Objection sustained, then,” the judge says. “Defense, I believe it is time for your cross-examination.”

“You’ve been rather quiet now, haven’t you, Cykes-dono.” Blackquill can’t resist one last taunt. “Something the matter?”

Athena inhales deeply. She places her hands back down on the bench, her shoulders squared and her eyes flinty. “I’m not going to argue on principles,” she says. “Some long-winded idealistic speech. I’m going to let my evidence, and my victory, do the talking.” She lifts her hands and this time slams them down. “You claim that you were lying to cover for Junie, but that’s a load of hot shit!”

“That language, in our fair court of law!” Means interrupts indignantly. “Your Honor, it is an outrage!” Apollo personally finds Means’ guiding philosophies about the uselessness of the truth, and his forged evidence, a lot more of an outrage, but what does he know.

“Ms Cykes. Having adjudicated your mentor’s first case back, I understand where this unfortunate habit of yours was picked up, but please, do try to not make this such a frequent occurrence that I must penalize you for it.”

“Of course, Your Honor.” She takes that better than Apollo expected, though Widget still glows red. “Now, if the court would please recall the audio recording, presented as evidence yesterday, that today we have established to have been faked. It was Professor Means who gave that to Hugh and whispered to go take it to the police. If you had Junie’s best interests at heart, Professor, why would you fabricate evidence that uses her voice? That is, it’s an incredibly damaging piece of evidence that shouldn’t exist if you had wanted to defend Juniper - as it is, it seems like you’re trying to pin the crime on her instead!”

Means lowers his eyes. Apollo isn’t naive enough to think that means he’s chastened, or is going to do anything but dig in further. “You’ve done nothing but lie, and you’ve taught nothing but lies!” Athena shouts. “Your road to hell has no good intentions!”

“How dare you!” There it goes. Means’ head snaps back up. He grits his teeth in a snarl. “Themis Academy is an honorable institution with a proud name and how dare you slander it!” He grinds his staff against the ground. The sound sets Apollo’s teeth on edge, and Athena claps her hands over her ears.

“I’m not slandering the whole academy!” she protests. “Just your terrible teachings! You—” Means reaches into his pocket, producing a piece of chalk, which he flings at Athena. “Ow! What the helllleck, heck, was that!”

“Pay attention, Athena!” Means speaks like this is a lecture hall, like he’s the professor in charge of a classroom and not a witness on the stand, and she some wayward student of his and not a defense attorney on a cross-examination. “You’re disappointing me! The murder occurred on the twenty-third sometime between six and eight pm. I was already home at that time! How could I have killed her?”

“Can you prove you had gone home by then?” Athena asks.

Apollo knows what the answer will be before Means says it - the shifting burden of proof, always to the defense. “Can you prove that I was still at the school then?” he asks, a furious pointer finger waved in her direction.

Apollo casts about for any option, and he watches Athena slowly lose hope, her confident posture falling away, her hands sliding off of her hips and her shoulders slumping forward until she lets her elbows hit the bench and prop her head back up. “No,” she admits.

“Very good! I appreciate your honesty, even as it fails your case.” Means is still in teacher-mode, and now Apollo wonders if it’s some sort of mocking of them that he’s attempting to do. “But given that—”

“Hey! Hold on a second, man!” 

Robin’s shriek could be an impressive rival to the Chords of Steel. She stands up in the front row of the gallery, leaning forward and peering down the drop to the floor, weighing whether she should just vault down, and deciding against it. She raises one hand and then rushes aside, leaving silence for several moments until she properly reaches the floor of the courtroom, where she places herself beside the defendant’s chair. Throwing her arm out in an imperious, pointed objection, directed at Means, she shouts, “I can’t believe I’ve let you lie to me all this time!” The Professor sputters indignantly, and Robin drowns him out with a roar. “I’ve got a confession to make! I can prove it!”

-

Of the statues on the stage, Klavier and Phoenix, Robin only had time to actually make the Klavier statue, the one that they put back together yesterday. Then the late bell rang, and Robin, without permission to stay on campus, asked Means if he could make the other statue for her. This puts him still at the school at the time of the murder, though he claims with the intensive work it would have taken to finish the artwork in an hour and a half, there’s no way he could have taken an instant to go to the art room and commit the crime. (Couldn’t there have been time after? Couldn’t the autopsy report’s window be off, have that wiggle room?)

Or there’s Athena’s objection, offered up without a thought, and then a few seconds after, she has invented a possibility. “What if we were all wrong about where the crime was committed?”

That’s one of Phoenix’s classic turnabout tactics. Apollo sees where she’s going; Means scoffs that she’s lost her mind, but Blackquill, glowering around the court at everyone in equal measure, very slowly says, “Continue.” When Means sounds about to protest, Taka alights from Blackquill’s shoulder and brings its fly-by so close that its talons rake through Means’ hair. 

The murder took place on the stage, the blood spilling onto the banners lying there. The Gavineers banner soaked up most of the blood, was wiped on the art room floor to create the other crime scene, and then burned to hide the evidence. The white Lady Justice statue they repaired during yesterday’s investigation came from the art room, sent down the banner wire to make some noise and lead someone to the body. The body, therefore, was hidden on the stage somewhere. 

How? At least a hundred people passed the stage on their way to the mock trial. What did it look like? Was there a crawl space under it that could be counted on no one to notice? What about behind it? Did they see it from other angles? Athena only has partial photographs, from up on the stage, nothing with the right angle, the wide shot. All of the pieces, these strange inconsistencies and bits of evidence collected, fit perfectly together with this theory.

There’s just no place for the body. 

And that’s going to sink them.

They’re sinking, and Means just laughs. “Don’t you understand yet? There’s no killer other than Juniper Woods! There never was any other possibility, and there never will be!”

“But…” Athena falters. Apollo needs to help her, if he can just come up with somewhere, anywhere, that the body could have been. There were bruises on the victim’s wrists from being tied. Was she tied in some contorted position to allow her body to fit somewhere strange? Every second that he doesn’t say something, he’s failing their client, and he’s failing his friend.

“Poor Juniper must seriously regret asking for your help now - choosing you over me! And not just for herself, but for the way you nearly had Hugh wrongly convicted for murder! Surely you haven’t forgotten that big mistake of yours, too?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Apollo says. Though really, he’s not sure if Athena is listening to anyone, her face gone slack and her eyes glazed over, lost somewhere that isn’t here. “Athena?”

“You’ve not only failed to defend your client, but you brought false charges against her friend!” Means is positively gleeful tearing into her, a shark that’s scented blood and gone into a frenzy, and Apollo remembers what Phoenix said last night, about Athena, about accusing Hugh, wonders what he’s thinking now watching his best-laid plans to shelter her fall apart. “You don’t deserve to call yourself a lawyer!”

“No.” Athena hugs herself tightly, clutching her arms across her stomach like she’s sick, or trying to staunch the flow of blood from a wound, and doubling over herself. Her hair falls across her face, but not enough that Apollo can’t see her eyes, wide and hollow, and Widget’s screen, gone straight black. “No, I - wouldn’t let an innocent person be - I wouldn’t let him be convicted for - something he didn’t—”

“Athena! Hey, Athena, look at me.” Her shoulders start to shake. She doesn’t lift her head. Apollo reaches for her shoulder and stops; she flipped a mann larger than Apollo over her head the last time someone unexpectedly touched her, and if she’s already breaking, the last thing she’ll need is to hate herself more if she lashes out and injures Apollo. Means grins in satisfaction; Apollo glares at him and wishes, horribly, cruelly, for an instant, that he was fae, that he could kill with a look, literally, and then the wish turns his stomach over. Even if this man is a monster, even if he’s getting a laugh out of hurting Athena—

It’s not - it’s probably not a curse, is it? Some kind of spell Means put on her? It’s probably just - a regular mundane breakdown, right? Phoenix is up in the gallery watching, and if something had happened, he’d already be on his way down to let Apollo know. For Athena’s sake, surely, he’d break his habit of staying frustratingly silent on these matters.

“Breathe, breathe,” Athena hisses to herself. “Breathe in, breathe out—”

Blackquill crosses his arms over his chest. After watching him for three trials, Apollo still wouldn’t say he’s got a read on him at all, wouldn’t say he understands if the man has any tics - but maybe Apollo just hasn’t seen them yet. Because Blackquill’s mouth twists, his nose twitches; it might be disgust, and it might be barely disguised fury, and maybe it doesn’t have to be exclusive, one or the other, because those are related emotions. He doesn’t turn his glare from Means but closes his eyes instead, face slackening, like he’s trying to calm himself.

“Hey, shut the hell up, man!” Robin yells. She starts forward for the witness stand, her hands in fists, and Hugh grabs her by the upper arm. “Athena’s a great lawyer! She saved the friendship between Hugh and Juniper and me! And she figured out the secret I couldn’t tell, so I can live my life as a girl again! She is G-R-E-A-T and I don’t wanna hear another word against her, you lying meanie!”

“But I did,” Athena says. Her voice rings out clear and steady despite the way that her body trembles. “I did raise false charges against Hugh. And that - I could have - I could’ve done something unforgivable - I would have—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Hugh says with a shrug. He still hasn’t let go of Robin, and that’s probably the better choice. “It happens. There wouldn’t be defense attorneys if it didn’t. It’s not like I’m mad - it’s really more like you’ve given me a chance to reevaluate. You’re an honest lawyer and I didn’t think it was possible, for an honest lawyer to do all you’ve done.”

Athena blinks. Apollo hopes that’s a good sign, considering she hasn’t for the minute prior. “But I still haven’t done - what does it matter if I can’t save Juniper?”

“I believe in you, Thena!” Juniper stands from her chair, her hands clenched at her sides. “I haven’t given up! You can’t either! And I know you won’t! I know you can do this, Thena.”

A strangled sound emerges from Athena’s mouth, like a wheeze interrupting a hiccup or sob. “Athena, breathe,” Apollo says. 

She tips forward and braces herself against the bench with one hand, the other arm still pressed tight against her stomach. “I c-can’t.” Her valiant attempt at inhaling breaks down into uneven, shuddering gasps. “I c-can’t. I—”

“Perhaps it would help you breathe if you were to cease this pathetic bleating of yours.”

Apollo is ready to yell at him, because someone has to and Robin has already laid into Means, but Athena finally slowly raises her head. “Prosecutor Blackquill?” she asks in a faint, broken whisper.

Blackquill shakes his head. “No more of such foolish words as you have just now spouted.” Is this - is this Blackquill’s attempt at reassurance? Has the world and the court finally gone mad? “You became a lawyer for a reason, did you not? What would come of it should you give up on all of the work that you have done thus far?” He slams his forearm on the bench and leans forward, his eyes sharp and his mouth pressed in a tight frown. “It would hardly do for you to quit now and disappoint a certain someone who has been waiting for you all this time!”

“I—” Athena stares at him, her mouth hanging open, but her breathing has begun to steady from moments ago, and she slowly straightens up, drawing her shoulders back from the way she curved in on herself. 

“Ha!” Means’ laugh isn’t a very convincing one. “Isn’t this a precious little waste-of-time effort you’ve undertaken! But it is, I assure you, meaningless. You have nothing on me, and no plan to create anyone else’s guilt! Your case ends here.”

“Oh shut up,” Apollo says irritably, deciding that if Phoenix and Athena are going to be swearing in court on the regular now, he can definitely get away with that. Ignoring Means’ indignant sputtering, he turns back to Athena. “You okay?” She nods. “You’re doing fine, I promise. We’re still going to prove that the truth can win against people like him, all right?”

“But how?” Athena asks. “What am I supposed to do now, Apollo? He’s right, we don’t have any evidence against him!”

No evidence. That’s the problem that Phoenix kept running up against. What does it take to break an honest lawyer? For Phoenix, it was no evidence. But god damn it, Athena has only been a lawyer for six months and when Apollo had been a lawyer for six months, Phoenix gave him the Jurist System to solve that one particular issue. They don’t have the Jurist System now. They might never have it again. Evidence is everything now, and all Athena has is Apollo, and Apollo doesn’t even have a theory. If they can pull together a plausible theory, they can look for evidence in the places their theory maps out. But they need the theory. 

“Take a deep breath,” he says - she’s started to look frantic again. Not on the cusp of breakdown, thankfully, but frantic, and that won’t help her think clearly. “And we’ll look back over the whole case. There’s still truth to be found, and I believe in you that you can find it.” The sickly expression remains on her face. Is there something he can do about that, too? “Hey, Athena. Remember what Mr Wright says?” That saying that she in particular so enthusiastically took to. “ ‘The worst of times—’”

“—‘force their biggest smiles’,” Athena finishes. Okay, so maybe they skipped a bit in the middle there. “Right. I’ve got it.” She shakes her head back, her ponytail swinging behind her shoulder, and props her hands on her hips. She doesn’t actually smile, which Apollo can’t blame her for, but even with Widget glowing bright fierce angry red, she appears more at ease than she has for a while. “Think it over.” She squeezes her eyes shut and her whole face scrunches in concentration.

The body was moved in the midst of the mock trial, but didn’t have to be moved far, because the murder took place on the stage and the body had to have been hidden on the stage. What was moved via the banner wire was the other statue, so that Means could draw attention to the body and have it discovered when he wanted it to be discovered. It had to have been on the stage, and it can’t have been suspicious. It’s possible that there could have been some other objects involved in stage-setup that would have been capable of storing a body, but if they weren’t on the stage when Phoenix and Athena got there, then Means had to move it away, and that would have increased the time he spent there and increased his chances of being caught. Seems unlikely that there was anything more. So then, what was on the stage when they got there? Apollo didn’t get much of a glimpse of the initial scene. The mockup benches on stage - what were those made of? Could they have hollowed-out insides, possible to be lifted and have a body dragged beneath? What did the rope bruises on Courte’s wrists mean?

Athena’s eyes snap open. “I’ve got it!” she says. “Apollo, you remember how when we were repairing the statues” - more like when she and Klavier were and Apollo was just kind of there, but sure - “and we couldn’t find any chunks of the boss’ statue large enough to put it back together?” He nods, with no idea where she’s going with this. “And the court will recall how remarkable a feat it seemed that Professor Means could finish the statue of Mr Wright so quickly, when it took Robin so much longer on the other statue. And I can tell you why that is!” 

Yep, Apollo has no idea where this is going. “He never built the statue!” Athena continues triumphantly. “It was all an illusion - he hid the body by making it look like the statue of Mr Wright! And with the statues covered by cloth, no one would know what was actually beneath!”

“Wait, what?” Apollo asks. 

“Now this will be interesting,” Blackquill says.

-

What Apollo has come to realize is that he could not be a prosecutor. Not for any reason of principles - arrests have to be made, people are guilty of crimes, and an honest prosecutor is as important to the pursuit of justice as an honest defense attorney, even if both seem in unfortunately short supply these days - but because the prosecution don’t seem to be able to operate with a co-counsel. The closest they get is working as a team with the same detective, and that wouldn’t suit Apollo. What he needs is someone at the bench with him who can come up with utterly batshit theories that escaped his brain because they were, as stated, utterly batshit. 

This is going in his journal as the weirdest thing he’s done in a trial. Because certainly weirder things have happened in trials - Kristoph’s shimmering, flickering glamour as it broke, or Blackquill starting to transform to a nine-tailed fox - but Apollo did not hold an active part in those incidents. Apollo is taking a very active role in helping to turn Athena into a sheet-covered statue mockup of the corpse at the crime scene. 

Apollo is actively facilitating Athena’s outlandish theory - and less outlandish every second judging from Means’ face, furious instead of laughing it off. The trial takes a ten minute recess to hunt down the props that Athena will need to display her theory: a large sheet, a chair, some rope, and just in case, some duct tape. It feels like preparation for one of Trucy's tricks but if she were here it would be easy, and the Magic Panties would provide, but instead Apollo breathlessly rushes back into the courtroom at the end of ten minutes with a large pink sheet that’s going to have to work one way or another. 

What is a co-counsel for but to help you fill in the gaps of your mad ventures? Athena figures out why the professor’s hands were tied and how they were positioned behind her head; Apollo reminds her that Courte had an arrow sticking out of her body and duct-tapes it to her side; they test those two facts together and find that the arrow isn’t long enough to make a convincing statue arm, but Athena notices that Means’ staff certainly could have. Reluctantly, Means hands it over; Athena holds it in place and Apollo shakes out the sheet to toss over her head again. Somehow even that is an ordeal. She got stuck in it last time she removed it, to swap the arrow for the staff, and now Apollo can barely get it tossed up over her head. Fabric doesn’t throw very well. He shakes it out and tries again and this time a cold gust of wind catches beneath it, billowing it upward spread like a parachute to drape neatly over Athena’s head.

Apollo glances at Blackquill. He has stood silent watching - it seems promising that he hadn’t been heckling them - and his arms are crossed, but he slowly lowers the hand he had just slightly raised up off from where it rested on his upper arm, like he made a little wave to direct the wind. Seeing Apollo watching him, he raises an eyebrow.

The courthouse has time and again seen manic laughter within its walls. Athena’s at least is different, triumphant, from underneath the pink sheet where her hands behind her head make the form of a large spiky head of hair, and the staff an extended pointing objection arm. All they’ll need to do now is test the staff for traces of blood, and Means’ guilt will be ascertained.

The proud, proud professor falls apart the way criminals all do, begging and pleading and wheedling for a way out, any loophole or last desperate reason that it isn’t them; cursing the names of everyone involved in their downfalls, everyone but themselves. And Means falls apart, literally, his words becoming more incoherent in his desperation, until they don’t sound like any words of any language Apollo has ever heard. They’re just noises from a man who has finally lost at every game he has played for years, and his voice grows softer and the clack of his teeth together, a horrid sound that makes Apollo acutely aware of all of the nerves in his own teeth that would be giving him pain if he were the one doing that.

He should just steel himself for what Clay calls “Fair Folk fuckery” at the end of every trial. He should expect it by now. And maybe he does, but with the myriad possibilities of their curses and consequences playing out, how does he brace himself when he doesn’t know what’s coming?

He assumes this is fae. What else could it be? Maybe an accident, the first time that Means’ mouth snaps shut and then he opens it and there is blood on his teeth and a chipped white piece of one falling into his hand. Maybe he just spent most of his life putting too much stress on those bones and one of them was already breaking apart before today. But without catalyst a second tooth cracks apart and drops from his open mouth, and another, and Apollo glances away from the spectacle, can’t close out of his mind the blood streaming down Means’ teeth. 

“Ugh,” Widget groans, and Athena presses a hand over her mouth. Juniper, sickly green, covers her eyes with her hands. Only Blackquill has the stomach to not turn away, his narrowed eyes fixed on the witness stand and gleaming silver, equally cold and piercing as the yellow glare of the hawk on his shoulder.

#roddy fanfics #fic: the witches of los angeles

[the--blackdahlia]

Too Young to Fall in Love Chapter 7 (Dirt!Nikki x Reader)

Title: Too Young to Fall in Love 7

Summary: Nikki Sixx was a hard partying musician on the strip. He never expected to fall in love with anyone, until a girl knocked on his dressing room door looking for a ride home and took his breath away. Just like everything else Nikki did; the drugs, the money, the music; Nikki went hard with love. (Y/n) Bass never expected the bassist of Motley Crue to be the one to shake her calm and calculated life up. She had a plan. Graduate school, become an epic producer, and watch from behind the scenes as her brother’s band rose to fame. Nikki and (Y/n) were perfect for each other, too bad her brother, Tommy, didn’t think so.

Series warnings:  Smut (18+ Please), drug use, language, referenced miscarriage, drug overdose, mentioned attempted suicide, out of character moments for everyone in the band, the timeline might be a little screwy but it’s fanfiction! I know nothing of music production and my medical knowledge is really screwy, so it won’t be accurate.

Check out my Patreon for more!!!

“Hey loser!” Athena laughed.

“Bitch.” (Y/n) laughed. “Sorry, I got sidetracked.”

“Oh? And what exactly distracted you to the point that you got “side tracked” huh?” Athena teased.

“Her new boyfriend.” Vanessa teased. (Y/n) let them into the house.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” She told them.

“Not yet anyways,” Vanessa muttered too Athena. “He is hot and they are cute together.”

“Oh? Who is it?” Athena asked. (Y/n) shot a glare at Vanessa.

“No one. Just a guy I met when I was ditched at the concert.” (Y/n) told Athena.

“See, it was a good thing I left you back there you got to meet someone!” Athena smiled. “But I am sorry I left you behind. That was shitty of me.”

“It’s okay. You and Tommy both left me, so it wasn’t just you.” She flopped on the couch.

“(Y/n),” Athena said softly. “You know I kid around, but I am proud of you. You are doing better than myself or Tommy every could in the brains department.”

“Does he know how smart you really are?” Vanessa asked. “I mean, he knows your in college, but does he know you skipped grades and are probably graduating by Christmas?”

“I don’t like to brag.” (Y/n) said. “Plus, what if he thinks I’m just some nerd or something?” Vaness and Athena looked at each other.

“(Y/n),” Athena said softly. “Where is this coming from? I know Tommy is an asshole but that’s because he’s jealous of you. I mean hell, I was a little bit jealous of you, but we all have our strengths and weaknesses.”

“He’s just...he’s so cool and I live at home. I don’t have a car. I just feel like we’re so different and I can’t figure out why he likes me.” She sighed. “Anyway, pizzas here.” She went up to get it. Athena looked over at Vanessa.

“Who is this mysterious “cool dude”?” Athena whispered to her.

“Sorry Thena,” Vanessa shook her head. “Not my place to tell you. I am loyal to the end.”

“Damn. I thought I could get the details.” She sighed. “I wonder if I know him.”

“Thena, she really likes him. And what you and Tommy filled her head with is not ok,” Vanessa sighed. “She is so unsure of herself that… what she needs is confidence. We know she won’t get it from Tommy but you’re her sister, she needs you.”

“I’m gonna kill Tommy someday.” Athena sighed. “We’ll take her shopping tonight and get her a kick ass outfit.” (Y/n) came back with the pizza for them.

“Ok, so after Pizza we have some time to go out and shop for some clothes!” Vanessa smiled as she grabbed a slice and moaned in satisfaction.

“Shopping? Why?” (Y/n) asked. “Why do we need to go shopping? Do I not have the right clothes?”

“(Y/n),” Athena said gently, “for a date this special where a you really like a guy… sometimes it nice to get something new and make yourself feel good.” Athena gave her a pat on her cheek. “Trust me little sister, you are gorgeous, and your clothes are fine, but this is to knock him dead.”

“Well, okay.” She ate her pizza. “Let’s do this then.”

“(Y/n)?” Athena looked at her.

“Yeah?” (Y/n) asked, looking over at her sister.

“You know you’re beautiful right?” her sister smiled at her. “Tommy is an asshole and just jealous that he only attracks skanks. But sis, you are amazing and you know that mom and dad are proud right?” (Y/n) nodded and smiled some.

“Thanks ‘Thena.” (Y/n) smiled at her. “You guys make me feel a lot better.”

“That’s what sisters and best friends are for.” Athena said as she hugged (Y/n).

“Now, I just gotta deal with a small little lie I might have told him…” (Y/n) sighed. “I told him I lived in the dorms with Nessa. He’s been dropping me off there instead of here.” She looked around. “Maybe while mom and dad are gone, I could slowly start moving into the dorms? Or I could tell him something happened and I had to move back home?”

“Ohhhhh, ouch.” Athena winced. “That one is tough, I mean… what are you going to tell mom and dad?”

“I don’t know,” (Y/n) sighed. “We came up with the plan of me living at home since the college is so close, so I could just commute there and save some money. He’s gonna think I’m a big liar about everything.”

“Not if you tell him about why you lied about it,” Vanessa sighed. “He shouldn’t be kept in the dark about this. I mean sure he’ll be mad. But if he doesn;t get over it then he isn’t the guy for you. However, he does seem like a nice guy. You never know.”

“Nessa is right (Y/n/n),” Athen ate another slice of pizza. “This is something you should come clean about.”

“On the first date though? Well, technically third, or fourth.” Athena coughed some. “You okay?”

“Third or fourth?” she took a sip of water. “I thought this was a first date?”

“She’s seen him a couple of times by chance since meeting him a t the concert,” Vanessa covered for Y/N. “So officially where he picks her up and takes her on a nice date yes. But, they have seen eachother in circumstances that have turned into date.” she cleaned her hands and looked to Athena and (Y/n). “Well? What are you bitches waiting for? Let’s go.”

*******

“Look guys, I know your brother is in Motley Crue, but do we have to listen to them?” Vanessa asked. “This album is kinda annoying.”

“You’re just jealous.” (Y/n) laughed, but she ejected the cassette and Athena turned on the radio. “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” came blaring from the car speakers.

“Better?” Athena asked Vanessa with a laugh.

“Much!” Vanessa smiled as she sang the lyrics. “This is the perfect song for us!” (Y/n) smiled and leaned back in her seat as she looked out at the strip as they passed. Motley Crue’s name on the sign at the Whiskey and she wished that she could see Nikki. She wondered if he was even thinking of her.

Nikki sat in the dressing room, he sighed softly wishing that (Y/n) would be out in the audience. Shaking his head he tried to concentrate on the gig. He didn’t notice the other guys looking at him weird.

“Dudes,” Tommy whispered to Vince and Mick. “How hot is this chick?”  

“She’s pretty hot.” Vince admitted. “Just saying, they don’t work out, I’d do her.”

“She’s smart. And doesn’t spend ten minutes trying to find the right words.” Mick added. Tommy looked over at Nikki.

“I have to meet this chick!” Tommy whispered. “What does she look like?”

“Can we seriously stop talking about my girlfriend as if I’m not in the room?” Nikki glared at them. “You guys sound like a bunch of old hags. Hell Mick is an old hag!” Nikki said as he tuned his bass.

“I’m THE old hag asshole. Get it right. Dumbass.” Mick grumbled, getting his guitar.

“Hey, I’m just saying she’s really hot.” Vince shrugged. “Can’t wait to meet that friend of hers though.”

“Well man I just can’t wait to meet this chick!” Tommy gave a grin and nodded his head. “If she’s as hot and smart as you say she is, I’m impressed she isn’t imaginary.”  

“Like the three of us idiots got together and planned up a fake girl to piss you off?” Nikki asked.

“Actually, that does kinda sound like something we’d do.” Vince laughed.

Nikki shook his head, “Can we focus please, we go on in five.” he said getting the set list ready.

“Yeah, yeah.” Mick said. Tommy got his sticks and stretched.

“Let’s do this my dudes!” Tommy called out.

The boys went out and played to a full house. Nikki was able to focus only because he reminded himself he would be seeing (Y/n) tomorrow. He smiled at the crowd not looking at anyone in particular as they rolled through their set. He swore a couple times he saw (Y/n) in the crowd, but nothing.

After the set was over, they made their way backstage.

“I gotta go get some new pants.” Tommy groaned.

“What’s you do pee on them?” Vince snorted.

“Awwww, did little Tommy wet himself?” Nikki added.

“NO! I got paint all over this and not even a cool color.” Tommy whined.

“Oh the humanity,” Mick said in a monotone voice. “Someone call the national guard! It’s a travesty to fashion.”

“You guys are all assholes.” Tommy sighed. “I stole these from my sister anyway.”

“Which one?” Vince asked.

“Might have been (Y/n)’s, but I’m not sure.” Tommy said. Mick looked up and looked from Nikki to Tommy.

“(Y/n)?” Nikki muttered and shrugged. “Sounds like my girl’s name, small world.”

“Huh? Really?” Tommy looked at Nikki. “You’re girl’s name is (Y/n)? I didn’t think it was that common.” he shrugged.

“Well, I’m out. See you guys later.” Nikki said, heading out.

“Same. Gotta get new pants. Later!” Tommy yelled. Mick looked over at Vince.

“Holy shit.” Mick told him.

“What?” Vince said as he fixed his hair getting ready to pick up some chicks.

“Nikki’s dating Tommy’s sister.” Mick said, a little in shock.

“What!? You’re crazy man, no way.” Vince dismissed him and sighed. “It’s just a coincidence that they have the same name, that’s all. Besides, (Y/n) is way too hot to be Tommy’s sister.”

“She looks like Tommy!” Mick said. “You can see it in the eyes!”

Forever tags:  @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316  @horrorpxnk

Motley Crue Tags:  @primal-screamer @waywardprincess666 @twistnet @saint-of-los-angeles @vader-kai @motleyfuckingcruee @sharon6713 @kawennote09 @2dead2function @nikkisixxwiththebass @flamencodiva @iamtiber-andtiberismusic @jayprettymuchomw @charlyallise @you-know-im-a-dreamer @livingdeadharley @motleycrying

Too Young to Fall in Love Tags:  @kingbouji3 @leximus98 @thekidbakerinthetardis

#too young to fall in love #Motley Crue #nikki sixx #nikki sixx x reader #nikki x reader #dirt!nikki sixx #dirt!nikki sixx x reader #dirt!nikki x reader #dirt!nikki #the dirt #fanfiction

[flight-of-the-sacred-eagle]

Anniversaries

Aka Clay is sad over being stabbed. 

“Hey, uh... ‘pollo?” Clay said softly, causing Apollo to look up from his phone.

“Yeah?” Apollo said before pausing as he saw the state Clay was in. “Whoa, are you okay?” He asked as he stood up and walked over to his friend. Clay just looked down.

“It’s... it’s the fourteenth,” he mumbled. Apollo’s eyes widened.

“Oh,” he muttered. He didn’t need anymore explanation than that. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot about that- ‘thena has been texting me and I just...” he trailed off as Clay shook his head.

“N-no, it’s fine. It’s been a few years, I wouldn’t expect you to remember it,” Clay said as he looked up. “I’ll be fine,” he said, causing Apollo to sigh as his bracelet tightened.

“Come on,” Apollo said as he grabbed his friend’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Come sit down, I’ll get some hot chocolate started or something, okay?” He said as he led his friend to the couch before he walked over and grabbed his old constellation blanket from the chair. “Here,” he said. Clay just looked away as he took the blanket and wrapped it around himself.

“You don’t need to do this,” he mumbled. Apollo just shook his head.

“Yes I do,” he said softly. “I promised you that I’d help you get through everything, and I meant it,” he said as he smiled. “I’ll be right back with the hot chocolate, okay?” He said. Clay just nodded.

Quickly walking into the kitchen, Apollo grabbed the stuff for hot chocolate. Popping the mix into the coffee maker, he pressed start and made his way to the cabinets. “Let’s see...” he mumbled as he scanned the shelves. “Aha!” He exclaimed as he reached up and grabbed the marshmallows and a candy cane. He had never understood the appeal of having a candy cane in his hot chocolate, but Clay swore it was the best thing ever.

Hearing the ding of the coffee maker, Apollo quickly grabbed two cups and filled them up before adding marshmallows to them both and putting a candy cane in Clay’s. Nodding to himself, the lawyer made his way back to his friend, pausing as he saw the way Clay’s shoulders were trembling.

“Hey,” Apollo said as he quickly set the mugs down and went to sit next to Clay. “It’s okay,” he said as he wrapped an arm around his friend. “You’re okay,” he said. “I’m right here,” he said.

“I-I know,” Clay said with a sniff as he wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Apollo just frowned as he pulled him into a hug.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled again. Clay just wrapped his arms around Apollo and buried his head into his shoulder.

“I-I sh-should b-be over th-this,” he choked out as Apollo gently rubbed his back. “I-it’s b-been y-years,” he said.

“Clay...” Apollo muttered as he hugged Clay tighter. “You don’t need to be anything,” he said.

“B-but...”

“No buts,” Apollo said. “You had something horrific happen to you,” he said. “You have every right be be upset over it, no matter how many years pass,” he said as he hugged Clay even tighter. “You don’t need to bottle everything up.”

With that, Clay’s walls collapsed. He let out a wail as he hugged Apollo as tight as possible. It hurt a little bit, but Apollo could bring himself to be upset. He just pulled Clay closer to him and rubbed his back, silently cursing the world for letting this happen to his best friend. He didn’t deserve this.

Overtime, Clay’s sobs slowly died down and he pulled away. He rubbed at his now red and puffy eyes and winced. “Ugh, your shirt is all wet,” he said. “I’m so-“

“Clay,” Apollo said, cutting him off. “It’s fine,” he said with a smile. “Are you feeing any better?” He asked. Clay sighed and nodded.

“Y-yeah,” he said as he leaned back. “A little bit,” he said. Apollo just smiled softly.

“That’s good,” he said before he noticed the hot chocolate mugs. “I think those are cold now,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll go heat them up and we can sit and watch tv, okay?” He said.

“Can we marathon the latest season of The Bachelorette?” Clay asked.

“Ugh, really?” Apollo asked as he stood up and made his way to the kitchen. “Fine- but I’m making fun of it!” He called back. Clay laughed.

“That’s fair,” he said. Apollo just rolled his eyes as he put the mugs in the microwave and turned it on.

“I don’t understand your obsession with that crap,” he said as he grabbed the now warm mugs. “It’s all artificial love,” he said. “You know none of the couples stay together,” he said as he made his way back to the couch and handed Clay his hot chocolate.

“See, that is why you don’t like it,” Clay said as Apollo sat down next to him. “You have no imagination,” he said.

“I do to!” Apollo huffed as Clay turned the TV. “I just know fake acting when I see it,” he said. “My bracelet does react to lies,” he pointed out. “And yes, it can pick up lies over TV,” he said. Clay rolled his eyes as he made his way to Netflix.

“Yet another thing your superpower has ruined,” he teased as he turned on The Bachelorette. Apollo just blushed.

“For the last time, it’s not a superpower,” he grumbled. “And I hated the show before I discovered how to perceive,” he added.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Lie Detector,” Clay said. “Now hush, they’re about to start introductions,” he said. Apollo rolled his eyes, but he did as his friend said, ignoring the way Clay pressed up against him.

“‘pollo?” Clay said a few hours later.

“What’s up?” Apollo asked. Clay sighed.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. Apollo cocked his head.

“For what?” He asked.

“Being here. Helping me through this,” Clay said.

“Of course,” Apollo said. “I’ll always be there for you, you know that.” Clay just smiled weakly.

“Yeah. I guess I do,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Clay.”

#clay terran #apollo justice #ace attorney #fluffy angst #anniversary reactions are a thing #don’t be ashamed of it

[puspaallamanda]

The Hurt Goodbye (Phoenix/Athena) part 2

"Nick, I'm sorry. I don't want all of this. I want to run away!!"

After overcoming his surprise, because he had never seen Athena can't control her emotion like this, Phoenix approached her, and caressed her back.

"I know, Thena."

"What if we run away together? That way we can live happily--"

"No. You can't avoid your father like that. He's your only parent." Phoenix said as he looking deeply at Athena's wet eyes.

"I'm sorry, Nick. Really."

Phoenix smiled a little, then cupped Athena's chin with his finger. Their faces become closer, and Phoenix began to kiss Athena's tears. He hated to see that beautiful face was wet with tears. He would do anything to dry Athena's tears. His kisses begin to slid down, first to her cheeks, then to her nose, then to her lips. Their lips pressed against each other gently, then both of them pursed their lips together and begin to kissed passionately.

As she continued to kiss, Athena's hand groping Phoenix's shirt button. Slowly, she unbuttoned Phoenix's shirt. A part of Phoenix's mind told him to push her away, another part of his mind told him to just let her.

But this is the last chance ... Before we really separated.

"Wait." said Phoenix. "Wait a minute."

Phoenix release his kiss for a moment , took off his coat, and throw his coat carelessly to the floor.

"Now you can continue."

Athena grinned. Slowly, she takes off Phoenix's tie, followed by unbuttoned his entire shirt. After throwing Phoenix's tie and shirt, she pulled Phoenix's undershirt. Her heart beating fast when she saw Phoenix's muscular body and filled with muscles.

"Wow, Nick. Your body ... is more than just beautiful." Athena stroked Phoenix's nipples with her index finger, and kissed Phoenix's chest gently. Phoenix closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the touch of Athena's lips on his chest.

After she was satisfied wetting Phoenix's chest with her lips, Athena kissed Phoenix's cheeks. She choked, and her tears dripped again.

"Athena, this is completely wrong ... We shouldn't do this ... You ... you can leave now."

"No." Athena put her arm around Phoenix's neck, and kissed Phoenix's lips gently. She brought her face to Phoenix's ear and whispered, "I want you, Boss."

Phoenix let out a short sigh, he wished Athena didn't whisper seductive like that. With trembling hands, he unbuttoned Athena's shirt slowly. Athena grinned and giggled several times seeing how nervous her lover was. After Phoenix finished unbuttoning her shirt and tie, Athena threw her shirt on the floor, piled with Phoenix's shirt. She then takes off her skirt, leaving her only wear orange bra and panties.

Phoenix swallowed hard, not sure what he would do next. He stroked Athena's back, making Athena sigh softly.

"You can't be faster, Nick?"

With a grin, Phoenix unclasped Athena's bra. He threw Athena's bra to the floor. For a few seconds, he looked at Athena's beautiful breasts. Her body is so perfect, without any defect. Beautiful, very beautiful. He took a step forward, then stroked Athena's breast with his thumb. Athena groaned softly. First, Phoenix kissed Athena's neck, then onto her shoulder, then went down to her chest. He kissed and licked Athena's breasts at once with passion, making the young lawyer whisper his name "Nick, Nick, and Nick" continuously.

Carefully, Phoenix pushed Athena to lie on the couch, and lay on her stomach. Athena groaned softly when their bare skin met. She really enjoyed this.

Phoenix kissed her stomach, chest, then back playing Athena's breasts with his tongue. He bit Athena's nipple a bit, making Athena moan go louder. The way Phoenix kissing her whole body driving Athena go crazy.

She ruffled his hair, pulled the lawyer's face, and they kissed again passionately. Their bodies start to sweating. He take off his pants, and took off Athena's panties. Now they both of them were completely naked, with nothing to hide anymore.

"Athena, is this your first time?" whispered Phoenix while giving a soft kiss on Athena's lips.

"Yes."

"Then, I warn you, this might hurt."

"I don't care. I believe in you, Phoenix. I want to feel you inside me."

Kissing Athena's lips once again, Phoenix begin to thrust himself into Athena. Athena gasped for a moment, indeed it was hurt a bit , but the pain wasn't so long because Phoenix did it very carefully and gently. Seeing Athena gasp, Phoenix became a little hesitant.

"Is it hurt? If it hurts... I'll let go of myself now." whispered Phoenix.

Athena smiled weakly, and shook her head.

"Not at all, Boss."

Phoenix smiled again, and began to adjust his pace, while Athena followed him. While pulling and pushing, he stroked her stomach, kissing her breasts and lips repeatedly, again, and again, without feeling bored at all. For him, this will never be enough. He would never feel satisfied to enjoy the body of the woman that he love... He pressed harder, he could feel Athena's breast swaying, rubbing his chest. Athena's groan grew louder, their bodies were filled with sweat, and when they reached the climax, they shouted each other's names simultaneously.

When Phoenix released himself from Athena, without realizing it, his cheeks were already wet with tears now. Athena looked at him, gently wiping the tears that fell on Phoenix's cheeks by her index fingers. Phoenix pulled her head, and buried Athena into a very tight hug. He doesn't want to let go of this hug. He did not want the woman he loved to fall into another man's arms. Just imagining it made him sick.

He buried his head to the top of Athena's head, and, sobbing uncontrollably, his tears fell from his eyelids so profusely, soaking her orange hair. All of this was too painful for him. Maybe, he was destined to never succeed in love.

If only they never started all of this, if only they keep their relationship as employee and boss, if only they remained just friends... Maybe he would never feel hurt like this.

Life feels unfair to him. That he had to lose the woman he loved so much, just because of the age difference.

Athena stroked Phoenix's chest, feeling equally miserable and suffering. If only she could do something, if only she could run away from all of this........

"Sorry, Athena. I'm out of control." said Phoenix while releasing his arms. "It's better... if you leave now."

"Nick. Know that even though I'm with another man... I will never stop loving you. I will always love you, forever, and always." Athena gave a small kiss on Phoenix's lips, and unexpectedly, Phoenix pushed her with a bit rough.

"GO, ATHENA!" Phoenix exclaimed while taking Athena's clothes that scattered on the floor and throwing it to her. "It will be even harder if you keep talking... I beg you.. go get dressed... And get out from here!" He wears his clothes and turns his body so his back was to Athena. This feeling really torments him.

Athena wear her clothes without saying a word. When she was finished dressing, Phoenix's back was still to her. His back trembled and his shoulders went up and down, and Athena didn't need to guess that he was crying again.

"Goodbye, Nick." whispered Athena from the corner of her lips, not sure whether Phoenix heard it or not. Before going out, she glanced briefly at the bag containing stuff from Phoenix. Secretly, she grabbed the bag, stepped out, and closed the door.

It was a very bright day. Birds sing cheerfully, the sun shines brightly. The sunny day contrasted with Phoenix's appearance, with very messy hair, an unshaved beard, irregularly rolled shirt sleeves, and dusty sandals he wore. He leaned against the tree in the courtyard of a church, he knew perfectly well that his action was stupid, an act that only tormented himself, but, he wanted to see Athena's face for the last time.

The church bell rang, and a newlywed couple walked out of the church, holding hands. Athena looked very beautiful with wearing a turquoise wedding dress. Next to her, the groom, Stefan Effenberg, held Athena's hand very tightly. Stefan looked very happy, so did Athena. Or Athena just put on a fake smile?

"We welcome the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Effenberg!!!" exclaimed the MC.

"Kiss, kiss, go kiss now!" shouted the invited guests.

Phoenix felt a pain in his chest when he saw Stefan and Athena kissing very passionately. He wanted to jump from his hiding place and separate the two of them. When Athena and Stefan finished kissing, all invited guests clapped their hands.

Athena waved her hand to the invited guest, and looked around. Her eyes stopped at Phoenix, who was still leaning against a tree. Their eyes met. Athena blinked to hold back her tears from falling. She waved her hand towards Phoenix slowly, and spoke silently without a noise, "Good bye."

#phoenix wright #ace attorney #gyakuten saiban #capcom #athena cykes #fanfic #angst #phoenix x athena #boss-employee relationship #age difference

[softquietsteadylove]

I really love every AU you have written so far! And I have to thank you for keeping every one of them somehow alive because reading every new prompt is just saving the day!!❤️❤️

May I ask for a Pokémon AU prompt? Thenas Pokémon are telling Gil that he should have a nice dinner date with Thena so they are helping him, asking her for a date.

Just them and their Soft, funny and beautiful moment. (You decide if there will be a kiss^^)

"Gallade."

Gil nearly spit out his bite of food, instead aspirating and choking on it. He thumped his fist on his chest a few times before he finally managed to swallow it properly. He stared at the pokemon leaning against the kitchen counter, just...looking at him. "Excuse me?"

"Gal," the psychic/fighting type shrugged. Gil had heard him just fine, there was no mistake. It had said what it said. "Gallade."

"Uh," Gil stuttered, his face flushing at the deadpan request - really it sounded more like an order - to ask a certain Ace Trainer out on a date. "What...brought this on?"

But Gallade still didn't rise to Gil's flustered reaction. It did lean off the edge of the counter, looking over to the sliding side door, where Thena was mixing Dragonite a bowl of special, personalised pokechow. Teddiursa was watching her do it, in a phase of being fascinated with every process he witnessed. "Lade."

Gil blinked at the very simple statement of Thena's happiness. He supposed he could see what her pokemon meant. She wasn't always the most expressive person in the region, but certainly Gil could always tell what she was thinking or feeling. And yeah, maybe recently it had been easier to read a clear lightness and happiness off of her. And yeah, maybe she seemed to be in a pretty good mood, even after long days in Victory Road or when he got in late and literally woke her up from waiting for him. And yeah, maybe it was really cute, and made him really happy to see her so happy.

"Gal-Gallade."

Gil just wasn't sure if it could really be said that he was the reason for that happiness. Was he happy that Thena was happy?--of course! But to say that he was the reason for it. Gil nodded his head at the low patio on the side of the house, where Teddiursa was watching over Thena's shoulder as she pointed out the elements of Dragonite's specially tailored and nutritious meal. "You don't think that has something to do with it?"

Gallade smiled, its fondness for its new teammate and little brother showing through. It might have accepted Teddiursa as a mere presence at first, but even he had to admit that the little cub fit right into their family.

Gil looked at Gallade again as it basically argued that Teddiursa was far from the only reason for his trainer's recent spike in happiness. "Noticed what?"

"Gallade, Gal-Gallade," he continued, moving his hand(?) in a very human way as he chatted with Gil. They had known each other for a long time, after all--before Gallade was even a Gallade at all. It had known Gil all this time, and been able to notice that he and Thena clearly were bonded. But it was more recently that the bond seemed to 'change' as the pokemon phrased it.

"Change how?" Gil frowned, although Gallade was quick to assuage his worries. Gil hadn't really thought about their relationship being all that different--certainly he hadn't noticed any big, dramatic shifts between them.

There were some...significant events, sure. But maybe the repercussions from them had set in more slowly than he had really realised. From Teddiursa's arrival, to them becoming 'Mama' and 'Papa' to the little cub, to the Beware incident and beyond. And of course there was that one time...

"Gallade," it said more firmly, pulling Gil out of his thoughts. This wasn't about him thinking about things too hard. This was about him and Thena finally acting on feelings everyone could clearly see they had.

Gil scoffed, "we do not."

"Ninetales."

"Not you too," Gil sighed as the fire/psychic type walked over to them. Her tails swished as she settled in the kitchen to be part of the discussion that was making Gil feel more and more ganged up on. "I don't-"

"Nine."

Gil blushed. Well, sure, maybe he did have some feelings for Thena that were not...entirely friendship based. But surely that just came with the territory of someone's best friend being perfect in every way. Friends could be friends and also be smart, and beautiful, and talented, and a great trainer, and sweet, and caring, and humble, and devoted, and mindful of the environment, and a good mother, and-

"Gallade!"

"Look," Gil held up a hand to both the stubborn pokemon staring him down. "Even if I did have feelings for Thena--which I'm not saying I do!"

Gallade actually rolled its eyes at him (the nerve).

"That doesn't mean she has those feelings for me."

"Nine?" the fox pokemon looked up at Gil, utter disbelief - and maybe some amusement - on her muzzle. Her tails swished on the kitchen floor letting him know how unconvinced she was. "Ninetales."

It was hard to argue with a part psychic type that could read the occasional mind. Not that Thena's mind needed reading, as far as Ninetales was concerned, her trainer's adoration of Gil being so obvious (apparently).

"Ninetales-Nine," the pokemon continued, utterly remorseless about telling Gil all about Thena's increased thoughts of him, her eagerness to see him at every possible opportunity, even her new habit of sighing every few minutes. And that was nothing to say of her increased heart rate whenever he was around.

"Gallade," it interjected, trying to argue a more action based approach. No matter the evidence presented, it didn't matter unless one of them actually did something about it. And Gallade was through with leaving it up to his trainer to make the first move for herself. "Lade."

She still hadn't entirely forgiven him for the stunt he pulled that one time.

Gil blushed again, looking out at Thena, chatting with Dragonite so he wouldn't have to eat outside alone, or cram himself into her modest little kitchen. Teddiursa was sitting in her lap, happy just to be in his Mama's presence.

Gallade poked Gil in the cheek, just to make sure the ranger was aware that he was, in fact, smiling like a fool.

"Ugh," Gil swatted the hand(?) away, "yes, thank you, I get it."

"Gallade."

"I don't know," Gil sighed at the persistence of their conversation. He looked over, now finding that even Froslass had joined them. For all he knew, the ghost had been there the whole time, invisible to his human eye. "What if...what if it doesn't work? What if that's not how we're meant to be and I...ruin it?"

"Froslass?" the sensitive ice/ghost type frowned, tilting her head at him.

"What if," Gil paused, leaning on the counter and dropping his head, "what if I ruin the best thing in my life?"

"Gallade?"

"Of course she is!" Gil barked in response, raising his head but still stuck looking at Thena outside, bathed in midday sun with the mountain wind tossing her hair around. "How could she not be?! She is the best part of every single day I have! Days I don't see Thena are--are awful! They're the worst--they don't even count as days! They just one long, miserable stretch of time!"

The three pokemon let him go on.

Gil let out a laugh, unable to stop now that the ball was rolling. "You think I can have a good day without that?!"

He held out his hand, pointed in the direction of Thena, her head tossed back in laughter.

"Impossible! I'd rather be on Garbador duty for a month! I could have the worst shift of my Arceus forsaken life!--and if I get to see Thena smile, then everything's fine! I know my job isn't easy. I love it, and I'm happy to do it, but it's not like I can be happy every single second I'm at work."

"But being with Thena?" Gil slammed his head down on the counter, letting out a kind of muffled shriek into his hands. The pokemon startled faintly but still didn't interrupt. He raised his head, leaving his chin on his hands as he looked at her. "It's what I was meant to do."

Arceus and Celebi and all the legends in between: the ranger was done for.

Gil groaned as he felt a cold hand(???) pat him on the shoulder, "thanks, Froslass."

"Fross!"

Gil picked his head up, looking at all three pokemon trying to encourage him. "Are you sure?"

"Froslass," the ghost tapped his shoulder again and pointed outside at her trainer.

Gil wasn't sure what she was trying to convey to him--he didn't have any ghostly powers for him to know what they were saying. But he did watch as Thena talked with Dragonite, now making the large dragon type laugh and flap his wings in delight. She gestured for him to lean down, swiping some crumbs away with the scarf around his neck. He let her happily, his tail swishing around.

Just like Gil had known Gallade as a shy little Ralts, Thena had been there when Dragonite had hatched as an itty bitty Dratini. She had even held Gil as he'd cried tears of joy after hatching his first egg all on his own, outside of work.

"Fross," the ghost nudged him, telling him to keep watching.

Thena turned her attention to Teddiursa, as the little cub began its part of the conversation. Her smile was bright as it talked and gestured out parts of its story.

Gil loved that smile.

"Froslass."

"Maybe," Gil inhaled, looking at Thena and drifting out of the kitchen as he was drawn to her inexorably. "Maybe you're right."

Gallade's jaw dropped--that was it? He had been trying to convince the ranger and their trainer to act on this for months - although it felt like literal years - and that was all it had taken? The ghost that had joined their team only two months before Teddiursa was the one to convince him?!

"Ninetales," the second-longest standing team member offered in condolences. She picked herself up and wandered back to her bed by the fireplace, content that at least something was going to happen after all this.

Gil slid the patio door open and shut it behind him. "Hey."

"Hey," Thena smiled, twisting around to look at him and tucking one of her legs into the other at the knee. "Teddi was telling me about a herd of Bouffalant in the valley."

"They're migrating," Gil smiled, sitting himself down with a chuckle. For as worked up as he had let himself get mere moments ago, he felt a lot calmer now. Looking at Thena just had that effect on him, maybe. "We're spending the next few days making sure they don't invade the Tauros' space too much as they all settle for the spring."

Thena looked down at their little bear, "would you like to go see them down in the valley tomorrow?"

"Teddi!"

Gil watched the little bear bound up Thena's arm to her shoulder, nuzzling his fuzzy cheek against hers. She picked the bear up to tickle its tummy, relishing in its laughter. And when Teddi laughed, Thena laughed.

"I have the day shift."

Thena looked at Gil, at the sudden declaration and the way he'd said it. "That's good."

"And," he inhaled, trying to keep his focus while Thena looked at him, the wind at her back, the sun on her cheek, the valley slightly out of focus behind her. "Since I'm off nights this week, what about...dinner?"

Thena let out a faint laugh, trying to discern where he was going with this. "Well, you're the one always reminding me to eat it, so I'm sure we could-"

"No, I mean," Gil leaned forward, pulling her extended leg to slide her closer to him. He held her eyes, encouraged by the way her pupils grew wide and her breathing hitched. "Dinner...just you and me."

She blinked at him, her lashes fluttering, breathing quickened. A faint flush rose in her cheeks, "you and me?"

"Me and you," he smiled. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"O-Okay."

Gil wound their fingers together, pulling her closer despite Teddiursa in her lap and Dragonite sitting behind him with its jaw dropped. He let his lips move against Thena's naturally--almost too naturally for being 'just friends'. He pulled back with a grin.

"It's a date."

#Thenamesh Pokemon AU #I have said it once and I'll say it again #Gil has game #Gil can be smooth #for one person and one person only #and obviously that is the love of his life #poor Gallade #he has seen all the signs #he was THERE #for it all #and then Froslass is like bro just ask her #look at the way she smiles you know you can't resist that #and Gallade is like tHAT'S ALL IT TOOK #Ninetales here like I don't know what to tell you dude #but they're both just happy they're going to see their trainer happy #Gallade acts so put out by having to witness their affections #but he'll be waiting around for her to get home like a disgruntled father #he's standing in the kitchen with a coffee mug of water #poor mon just wants to lie on the couch and watch his shows #instead he has to witness Gil and Thena stumbling in the door making out #He shoos Gil away because it's a work night for both of them and also he doesn't wanna see that

[softquietsteadylove]

Let’s do some soft moment between them?

Thena sees how stressed Gil is and decides to do some things for him, like ordering dinner, sorting and taking care of little stuff and more!

"Hey hon," Gil calls as he drags himself through the door. He sets his bag down heavily but tries to pull himself together. Thena got off her shift six hours ago, and he doesn't want to ruin her evening with his shit day.

It's all part of the job, right?

"Hey!"

He grunts faintly as Thena comes running down the front hall and throws herself into his arms. He's not complaining, though, happily burying his nose in her hair and holding her against his chest.

She pulls away, only to hold his cheeks in her hands and kiss him properly. "I missed you."

Obviously she knows he's had a hard shift, but it still makes him all warm and fuzzy inside for her to kiss him like that and lavish him with attention and sweet words. "I missed you too."

Thena walks them further into her apartment, trading little kisses with him as they walk, like they're lovesick teenagers, which she always said she found obnoxious. "You go sit, I'll bring dinner over."

"You cooked?" he chuckles, but obeys her instruction.

"I'm trying to help you relax, not poison you."

He lets out a long laugh on his way to her nice comfy sectional. He doesn't lie down, though. If he does that, he's just going to fall asleep in an instant.

"I ordered your favourites," she calls from the kitchen in the same happy tone.

Gil raises a brow at it, lounging back on the couch. "What's got you so giddy?"

"Just," he heard some clinking of cuttlery and plates and stuff. "Happy you're back!"

Gil sits up a little straighter as she comes over with two dishes for them. He cooks for them as often as he can, but she's ordered Chinese--something he's unlikely to make for them at home anyway. She sits next to him with a smile. "Honey, really."

Thena sighs, having been seen through. She wilts into the couch as well, "okay, okay. I tried, didn't I?"

He chuckles, pulling her into him and leaving the food for now. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but like I asked, what's the occasion?"

Thena tilts her head at him, hair down for once in the comfort of her own home. "You seemed more than a little bummed when I headed out, and that was before you had the last few hours to go. I thought, maybe, you'd want the treatment when you got home."

He grins, and not just because her apartment is 'home' for both of them. He wraps his arms around her waist, reclining so she can sit between his legs on the couch. "I already get the treatment, coming home to you."

Thena laughs off his sweet talk, as she always does. Because she doesn't know just how much he means it. Coming home to her beautiful smile and dry tone and reluctance to laugh at his dumb jokes?--that's all he needs.

"Well," she sighs, tracing along the lines of his sweater. "I know you had a long day, and I know you like getting all cuddly, so..."

He could cry. She was doing this for him? Even though she always says that she hates acting like young kids in puppy love. He kisses her forehead, combing his fingers through her hair leisurely. "No complaints from me, baby. But I gotta say, touchy-feely isn't exactly your love language."

"But it is yours," she insists, still on this thing about easing the stresses of his day. "And I know you like, uh, boyfriend-y stuff like this."

She's always been reluctant to really use that word. And he's never pushed her, happy to be her work-husband, even with their relationship rather private from their coworkers. He doesn't have to be her boyfriend to know that she's his. And he is most definitely hers, mind-body-and-soul.

Gil touches the tip of his nose to hers before kissing her. It's soft, in the way they don't have time for in the middle of the work day. "You know you're the best, right?"

It appeals to the ego in her - the Doctor ego - and she grins, pleased with herself. "Well, it never hurts to hear it again."

"You're," another kiss, "the", another, "best."

Thena practically purrs in his arms, getting nice and comfy in his lap as he lavishes her with attention. She can act tough and independent all she likes, he knows she's not above a nice cuddle every now and then. And he wasn't the only one who had a long day at work.

"So, is this really all because you thought I had a rough day?"

"Well," Thena pauses.

He nudges her, pressing his lips to her temple.

She snuggles a little more into his chest. "I saw you watching that couple in the waiting room being all gross together. You seemed a little - I don't know - envious."

He chuckles again. She wouldn't have said anything on her own, but she is the type who would notice him noticing something like that and think about what to do about it on her own. "So, you're letting me feel like a real boyfriend, tonight?"

Her sheepishness returns and even a little colour in her perfect cheeks. "You're already my husband. But if you want to be my boyfriend, too-"

He gets impatient and kisses her in the middle of her sweet little declaration. He can't resist, he just loves this woman so much. It really helps drown out the long work day, the relentless pace of it, the merciless nature of both their jobs.

"See?" she laughs between kisses. "You love this sappy stuff!"

"Guilty," he admits completely. "Good thing I have such a sappy girlfriend."

"Sappy?!"

He pouts his lips and makes his best puppy eyes at her, "just for me?"

His girlfriend is a real sucker for this face, and it doesn't take her long to crumble before it, "fine. Just for you, and just here, and just sometimes."

"Okay fine," he smiles, burying his nose in her hair. They honestly might not get to the food until it's a little cold, at this rate, but he's fine with that. He inhales, feeling the slight weight of her against his chest and stomach and the curve of her ribs against arm.

"So," Thena also sighs, relishing his warmth, "you wanna eat this dinner I ordered, or what?"

"In a minute, hon," he mumbles. He's not really lying down, but he might just fall asleep like this anyway.

#Thenamesh Doctor AU #just two idiots in love #in domestic bliss as it were #Gil needs the treatment sometimes too #Thena doesn't consider herself good at spoiling him #and she doesn't let him spoil her either #at least not consciously #because if she did he would be showering her with petnames and gifts and flowers all the time #but she can tell when he needs a little extra lovin' #so she orders food so he doesn't have to cook #and puts on romcoms or comedy movies he'll like #and lets him cuddle her #if he's really feelin' it she lets him lie on top of her and get a scalp massage from her #puts him right to sleep

[softquietsteadylove]

Thenamesh propsal AU

Thena needs her caffeine but in this house there is none. As a result she has terrible migraine!

"How is she?"

A loud groan sounded through the whole house in response. Gil winced as he walked in with a bag in hand.

He had completely forgotten that his mom didn't keep any caffeine or alcohol in the house. She wasn't one for it, Makkari simply didn't need any caffeine to be as brimming with energy as she was, and Sersi didn't drink unless it was socially. Kingo wasn't opposed to a coffee here or a beer there, but he considered visiting home like 'being on a cleanse', or whatever.

Thena needed caffeine.

She drank no less than four coffees a day in a regular work week. He was always telling her he was worried about her caffeine intake, but there was no arguing with the stubborn Goddess of War on that one.

It hadn't taken long for the lack of caffeine to cause an irreparable headache which shook her to her core.

Gil walked into the living room, where his very sweet family was being very useless at curing Thena's migraine. His friend - and fiance - was curled up in a ball on the couch, face pinched from the tension within her head. He whispered, "Thena?"

"Gil?" she whimpered back, not even moving at the sound of his voice.

Sersi handed him a cool cloth, freshly soaked and wrung dry, "none of the pain meds Mum has will help this. It's pure caffeine withdrawal."

"Did we try?" Gil couldn't help but ask, not that it didn't irk both his Doctor mother and his bio-chemist sister. He sighed, "sorry, just...I hate to see her like this."

Gil bypassed them, going right over to the ball of Thena and turning her over so he could put the cool cloth on her forehead. "Hey."

"Hey," she whispered back, just barely getting her eyes open to look at him. She looked even paler than normal. "You're back."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, lips pressed to her temple, unable to do much more for her. "I had to go out looking."

"It's okay," Thena turned over slightly with a smile, "Sersi and Makkari have taken wonderful care of me. And your poor mother is trying to find anything that will even simulate caffeine for me."

"Thena!"

"Quiet!" Gil glared towards the door to the living room, where Kingo was striding in without a care in the world. His arms tightened around her, "she's not feeling well, man!"

"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled much too light heartedly for Gil's taste. He swirled his hand in the air, "I made chai!"

Gil glared at his cousin--basically his brother. Chai was a strong enough blend of tea, and it probably would have just a enough caffeine to alleviate some of Thena's symptoms. "You had this the whole time and let her-?!"

"Come on, Gil," Kingo pouted at him, Thena still wrapped protectively in his thick arms. "I forgot I had it, okay? And anyway, I had the seed pods whole--I had to do actual work to make them ready for brewing."

Gil sighed a little more roughly, all but ignoring his loud cousin next to him, "whatever."

"I thought it might help," Kingo leaned blithely into Gil's personal space to get a peek at Thena. "I also suggested yoga to help clear her head, but all she wanted to do was lie around and wait for you."

Gil was already pulling Thena closer so he could carry her to the kitchen, "y'know, dude, I'd appreciate if you didn't do shirtless yoga with my fiance when I'm not around?"

"Who said it was shirtless?"

"I've never seen you do it with a shirt on," Gil shot back without hesitation. Kingo just snickered at his obvious annoyance (dick). Gil stood with Thena in his embrace, "I have something better."

"Something to put me out of my misery?"

"Something like that," he chuckled, kissing Thena's temple again just because he could. She was really funny, even if she didn't think so. "You know this is why I'm always on you about how much coffee you drink."

"Yes, yes," she managed to roll her eyes at him, although even doing that much seemed to reawaken her pain. She grimaced, "how long have you been waiting to bring that up?"

"Until I also had something to help."

"Gil, I--oh."

Ajak made room for them at the kitchen island so Gil could set Thena down in one of the plush bar seats.

"It's okay, mom, I found some," he sighed as he made sure Thena was settled. "Had to go all the way to that organic store where you fill up your own jars."

Damned retiree town and its hipster stores.

Thena forced her eyes open again, "what did you find?"

"Coffee."

Thena perked up like a dog offered a steak after being in the desert.

"I got the lightest roast they had," he held Thena's eyes, waving the jar of fresh grounds in his hand. She watched it, utterly entranced. "Just enough to keep the pain away, okay? This shit was still expensive, even as the cheapest stuff I could find."

Thena let out a faint laugh, in better spirits just at the promise of some relief. "Are you going to ween me off of it with this?"

Gil looked at her again as he set out the coffee grounds and french press he had to buy just to make coffee here. He could just tell her that he told her so and that this was probably for the best, to get her less dependant on caffeine to even function. But he sighed, "gently. I won't let you suffer if I can do anything to help."

Some colour returned to her cheeks, which was honestly more of a relief than anything.

"I'll make you just one cup to start, okay," he continued to speak softly, shaking out just enough grounds and then reaching for the kettle.

"Thank you, Gil."

He looked up, compelled by the gentle, almost musical tone in her voice. Some colour rose in his cheeks as well as he looked back down at his brewing, "anything."

"Hey."

Gil looked up once the grounds were starting to brew. Thena nodded him over to her, and he moved automatically, like a man possessed. Her knees made room for him and he had to stop himself from putting his hand on the other side of them reflexively.

Thena leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips, just close enough to his cheek to be considered not actually 'kissing' him.

He blushed and his all his hair stood on end.

"You're a life saver," she said afterward, forcing a much lighter tone. She tucked some hair behind her ear and moved to watching the coffee brew. "Is it done yet?"

He had to laugh just a little. He gave above her knee - just at the hem of her skirt - a squeeze and moved away again, "will you just try having some patience?"

"You are not the one who has spent all morning with a jackhammer within your skull."

"If you took it even a little easy on the cold brew it probably wouldn't be so bad."

"I knew you were dying to tell me you told me so," Thena rolled her eyes.

Gil smiled; she didn't wince this time. He poured her cup, which really needed more time to brew than it had. Maybe he was just as impatient to cure her as she was. "Just put some shit in it to cover up the taste."

"Gladly," she sighed, although it was Gil who moved toward the fridge for said 'shit'.

They both completely forgot Ajak was still hovering at the edge of the kitchen.

#Thenamesh Proposal AU #let me tell you #I have experienced this #not with coffee but I used to drink green tea for literally any time I was thirsty #and the headache I got when it ran out during quarantine #I was utterly useless #and I just know that Thena is out here drinking nitro cold brew like it's water #she doesn't get jittery or anything #but she just needs a constant baseline of caffeine in her veins #Gil is very eager to ween her off of it #he'll make her just a small cup and put some non-dairy milk in it #maybe some honey or something for sweetner because Ajak is that mom with the all natural pantry #whatever it's just for her anyway #the kids all went out and found their own favourites to stock for their stay #Ajak returns to the living room #Sersi and Makkari ask how Thena is #Ajak and Kingo share a look and say that she's doing much better now

[softquietsteadylove]

Would you do a Thenamesh soft moment with a forehead kiss? Whatever AU goes with it :)

Gil came out of his room with a yawn. It was some time late evening, it seemed. His sleep schedule still wasn't entirely back to normal with the heavy pain meds he was on for his injuries. But he would be in physiotherapy and on desk-duty at work soon enough.

Maybe it was insane to look forward to being back at work given that he had been shot and his collarbone was broken pretty badly. But what could he say?--he missed his job.

He missed Thena.

Although he was seeing more of her than ever, in his current state.

He smiled when he came into the living room, leaning on the wall with the soft glow of his lamp warming the room up. She really was beautiful.

Thena was stretched out on his couch. She kept saying she had to stop doing this, and yet every time he let out a yawn, she would tell him to go and lie down and she would tidy up and then head home. And then he would inevitably come back out to her asleep like this.

Thena had a real angelic look to her, despite the hardened Goddess of War image she presented. She was laid against the arm of the couch, a throw pillow behind her back and head, her hair splayed out behind her and reading glasses still on her nose.

Gil walked over (his limp was improving by the day). He took his time sitting down to look at her. He pulled her glasses off, pushing her hair back when it fell forward with them.

Thena moved faintly in her sleep, pushing the angle of her cheekbone up against his touch more with a sigh.

"Sh," he whispered reflexively, unwilling to give up the opportunity to gaze up on this wonder of beauty just yet. "It's just me."

Thena adjusted on the little set up she had on his couch. It couldn't have been good for her back, but he supposed she was getting pretty used to it. Her eyes fluttered, "Gil."

"Yeah, I'm here," he smiled, getting lost in letting his finger trail over her silken skin. She was so pale, and so blonde, but it really worked on her. Everything worked on her.

These were not the kind of thoughts to have about his boss.

Despite his efforts to lull her back into sleep, she was too alerted to his presence, her eyes fluttering open slowly but surely. She looked like a goddamn fairy tale princess, her eyes soft and green, her lips parting gently. She smiled, "hey."

"Hey," he whispered in the quiet of his living room at some godforsaken hour in the morning. He leaned his back against his coffee table, which Thena had files and papers spread over liberally.

Thena inhaled, trying to muster some energy as she turned over to face him more. "What time is it?"

"No idea," he shrugged. It was probably some time around 3 in the morning. He tilted his head at her, "you comfortable?"

Thena nodded, even though he could see the awkward bend of her spine in her current position. "I've got to stop doing this."

"I keep telling you I don't mind," he whispered in light admonishment of her insistence that she couldn't be falling asleep at his place. "If anything, I keep telling you to just let me set out real blankets and pillows for you."

"Oh, stop it," she sighed, turning herself again, twisting the blanket with her. "There's no need. I just dozed off looking over some things Kingo sent me."

She had done so pretty consistently since she started helping him around the house.

"Sure," he chuckled, ignoring her stubborn - cute - little pout as he reached up with his good hand and adjusted the blanket over her. "Well, feel free to doze off again--is all I'm saying."

"And what about you? Did you just get up?" she whispered, her eyes running over him in the faint light casting shadows all over the place. She automatically started rising up from the couch.

"Hey, take it easy, Boss," he whispered back, putting his hand on her shoulder to ease her back down to her pillow. Maybe he should get new ones--ones that would be more supportive of her neck and gentler on her hair. Since she was sleeping here so much.

Thena sighed, settling back on the pillow as directed. Her eyes travelled over him, and he felt exposed in his white t-shirt and dark sweatpants. He usually slept shirtless, but - again - felt too self-conscious doing so with Thena around.

"Are you in any pain?"

Gil smiled. She asked him that all the time now, since leaving the hospital. He knew she cared--more than she would ever really be able to put into words, knowing her. He tapped his thumb against her cheek, "I'm fine, Thena--really."

She didn't show any sign of response at first, searching him for signs that would contradict his statement. It seemed she was always doing this, lately.

"Thena," Gil said gently, leaning forward. He frowned, "I'm okay, you know. We're both okay."

Her brows knotted up even more, her eyes staring at his sling. "Gil, I'm-"

"No," he shook his head. "Nope, nu-uh--no more apologising. Thena-"

"Gil," she whispered, her voice becoming high and thin. She blinked, and he caught the glassiness in her shimmering green eyes. "You...because of-"

He moved his thumb from her cheek to press into her lips, without a better way of silencing her and her insistence that his injuries were somehow her responsibility. His eyes followed his thumb as he moved it across the plumpness of her bottom lip to the corner of it. "No more of that. It's no one's fault. And you were the one who pulled me out of there, if I have to remind you again."

Thena sighed, at least not arguing with him for the moment. She probably would at some other time, but he could handle that then. For now, she sank back into the couch.

Gil traced his thumb down her other cheek, following the natural slope of the hollow of it. "You are the reason I'm here, Thena. Never forget that."

Her eyes fluttered shut as he leaned all the way forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. It wasn't the first time he'd done this, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last. But this did feel...different.

She blinked at him a few times as he pulled back, solidifying the realisation that he had, in fact, actually done that. He gulped. "Uh-"

Thena reached her hand up to his cheek, pulling him back to her slowly and gently. Her lips pressed to his cheek, still close enough to brush against his skin as she whispered, "go back to sleep, Gil. I'll be here when you wake up."

These were not the things he needed to hear to not think about his boss like this.

Thena settled herself on the couch and throw pillow again, her eyes drooping. She blinked at him, "get some rest."

He just nodded, not trusting himself to speak intelligible words. He stood with the help of the coffee table supporting him, turning out the lamp.

Even without its warm, yellow light, Thena still glowed like a vision form a dream.

"Night, Boss," he whispered as he limped his way back to his room. Not that he was going to get any sleep. His heart was pounding and he was just going to be thinking about the feeling of Thena's lips against his cheek for the rest of the night. Forever.

That was why it was so important to keep calling her Boss--so he could remember that this was the woman he respected and worked with on a daily basis. Not at all the woman he was painfully in love with.

#Thenamesh Special Forces AU #I have been wanting to expand on this #on them #ever since I saw a tag saying that Thena definitely fell asleep on Gil's couch #because she obviously does #and I clearly couldn't decide who should kiss whom #if that wasn't obvious #but listen #these two are getting very comfortable with these little affections #and then rationalising them to themselves in their minds #like they're really here being domestic with each other on the daily #and being like yes hello fellow colleague #and then kiss each other on the cheek in the kitchen #like...guys...come on

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello, I'm in love with all of your fics and have lost count in how many times I've reread them. I just finished rereading Something Old, Something New and just wondering if I may request a sweet spicy one based on this fic? Maybe their first time? Pretty please?

Gil wakes up first. It's dark, his tv having shut itself off in its neglect. Their takeout is sitting out, abandoned. The ice cream is the only thing they actually finished.

They got back a matter of hours ago. The bags are still in the car, since he himself said that they could just leave them for later. He was eager to get out of the car, stretch out and lie down, hold Thena in his arms.

Thena is still asleep, curled up against him like they've always slept together--like it's the most natural thing in the world. He certainly feels like it is, feeling the rise and fall of her chest and how he can hold her so perfectly.

He can feel something else, too.

He sighs, resting his head on the armrest of the couch. His neck is going to be killing him tomorrow, he knows (they're not as young as they used to be). But it's not that. It's the familiar ache between his legs, not quite there, not quite gone either.

He knows he just woke up, but still, it's not exactly morning either.

Thena somehow feels that he's awake and shifts on top of him, between his legs. Her arm - previously trapped between his back and the couch, slithers out and over his chest.

Gil blinks. He had been planning to sneak up and use the bathroom (alleviate his little issue). But Thena's fingers hook into the v-neck of his t-shirt and pull him. He didn't think she was awake, but she pulls him down so the first thing she can do when her head lifts off his chest is kiss him.

They both taste like ice cream.

Thena smiles as they part, blinking at him owlishly in the dark of his living room. "Hi."

He forgets his little problem as soon as she looks at him. His hands settle onto her back again. "Hi."

Thena tilts her head, her chin resting on her hand resting on his chest. "When did we fall asleep?"

Gil grunts, reaching for his phone on the coffee table. He has over 20 missed calls and texts, all from work, demanding to know how and why he's just quit on them out of the blue. His 'I quit' text was sent two hours ago. "Not long, maybe an hour."

Thena sighs, undeniably sated from just their brief little nap. "We can't make this couch thing a habit, you know."

Gil grins at her. The memory of her pulling him against her on the couch of the vacation house is still vivid in his mind. How could it not be? "Hey, that first time wasn't my fault."

"You're the one who fell asleep on me."

"You lured me into it," he argues, having far too much fun with it, too. He taps his fingers along her arms. "All soft and warm--and wearing perfume."

"I wasn't-" she starts to deny but he knows she was, and she knows that he knows it too. A car drives by outside and he catches a glimpse of a vivid pink in her cheeks.

He kisses her, unable to resist the temptation. Not when she's in his arms, looking as beautiful as she is. She kisses him back like it's second nature. They've become very good at this in the very short time they've been doing it. Must be because they're so good together.

"Gil," Thena lets out a little sigh, shifting on top of him to reach him better--kiss him deeper, more easily. She moves up and closer, her knee brushing between his legs as she moves on the couch.

Ah yes, his little issue.

Gil grunts, trying to hold her at bay while not pushing so hard as to make her feel rejected. "H-Hang on, Sweetheart, I gotta-"

"What?" she whispers, continuing to kiss him, continuing to lie on top of him with her breasts pushes against his ribs. Her arm comes up, letting her fingers trace over his cheek. "You have to what?"

"Thena," he grumbles, because he swears she knows what she does to him. His face is burning hot. "Can I not romance you?"

"I don't need romance," she laughs quietly, and her voice feels loud for how close it is. But she's whispering. He is too. The room is quiet except for them and their whispers and their laboured breaths. "Just you, Gil."

God, he loves this woman.

Thena moves gently against him, slowly and softly, but definitely encouraging him to harden fully against her. She rolls her hips, and he feels the little flat plane of her tight white skirt move against the bulge in his jeans.

"Thena, please," he groans, and it sounds whiny in his ears.

But Thena leans drags her teeth against his earlobe. "Please, what, Gilgamesh?"

She will be the death of him.

"Tease," he growls as she shimmies, her hand slipping down between them to undo his button and zip. His hands have somehow made their way to her skirt, pulling the tight material up her thighs. "This isn't how I imagined this."

"Me neither," she breathes a little heavier as he tests if she's as eager as she's telling him she is. She is. "But does it matter?"

Maybe it doesn't. Maybe she knows him too well--knows that he would just get himself worked up over this anyway. She knows that he would worry about making their first time together perfect.

But she's right: he just needs her.

Gil groans as she helps him push into her. It's not a bed covered in rose petals, or in front of a roaring fire. It's not even dinner and drinks. But it's him, and it's Thena, and it's his couch with a flimsy blanket thrown over them. And it's perfect for that.

"Gil," she moans as she starts moving, her on top of him, moving slowly and sweetly in the dark. She doesn't move too far away--eager to kiss him as she moves.

He's just as eager, moving his lips with every stroke. He holds her, hands under her partially unbuttoned cardigan and holding her waist. Her skin is heated, and he hopes her heart is beating as feverishly as his. "Thena."

He shifts them, and she responds to it easily and happily. He wraps his arm around her, thrusting lazily and gently. She meets his hips with hers, every time. She kisses him, her hair spilling around his face freely. He doesn't have a problem with it so long as he can still get glimpses of that beautiful face.

"Gil," she whimpers as he changes angle again, picking up speed a little. She flinches around him, and he realises their hearts have both skipped a beat. Her nails dig into his chest a little.

He kisses her more desperately. His hands move from her back down. He grips her hips more tightly, presses her closer with each move. One hand moves down to cup a cheek.

Thena gasps against his open mouth, tongues tangled up messily. "Gil!"

It's sudden, and it's not momentous or life-changing. But it's beautiful, and it's soft, and that's all he wants. It's them together, in the quiet and the dark, kissing as they meld together with no end to one before the beginning of the other.

Gil pants for breath under her, his head tilted back, looking up at the ceiling of his living room. Thena buries her face in his throat, kissing his adam's apple as she rides out her high. His hand comes up to her head, over her hair. "Wow."

"Hm," she lets out quietly, and it sounds like so many things--satisfied, content, maybe a little amused. "Wow?"

"Sorry," he huffs, blushing again. "I usually like to plan my romance."

"You can romance me next time," she promises him, also dragging in air after their impromptu little love-making session.

"In a bed?"

"If you like."

Gil laughs, and soon she's laughing too. Because it's new - like, brand-fucking-new - but it also feels familiar. Because it's Thena. He lifts his head up to look at her. "Will you wear perfume for it?"

#You read the ask #don't read this at work #you know the drill #So #I wasn't entirely sure if you mean this #like in the past tense #or their first time together after they get together in that story #so we're going with that one #just be aware #and I just thought #it would be a big deal #but also not #because it doesn't have to be a big dramatic thing #and I thought maybe it would be perfect #if it just happened #like every other moment that made them fall in love #Thenamesh 18+ #Something Old Something New AU

[softquietsteadylove]

Helloo, could you do something (in the ganster Gil and his secretary Thena AU) were Thena is sick and her mob boss boyfriend takes care of her, pretty please. 😁🤍

"Naekkeo, I'm home," Gil calls out as he pushes the door closed behind him. Usually he waits until Thena gets up on the weekend to make her breakfast, but on sunday mornings in particular, he tries to get up and get to the farmer's market early so he can get what they need for the week. He's still always back in good time.

Even on the nights when they wear each other out, he's still up before her, which he secretly loves. It gives him the opportunity to stare at her unabashedly.

"Sweetheart?" he calls out after hearing nothing in return. In fact, the apartment is untouched. His first instinct is to be wary of it, but he's trying to adjust his senses when he has thoughts like that. He sets the bags down on the counter and heads for her room.

Not that he isn't in there with her more nights than not, now.

"Thena?" he tilts his head, opening up the door. Thena curls into his pillow more. He walks in softly, trying to get a good look at her past that crown of sunshine coloured hair.

Thena groans as he pushes her hair off her face and the light from the living room hits her. He's as ginger as possible about rolling her over. He pushes her hair back and presses his palm to her forehead. "Gil?"

He frowns, immediately able to tell she's too warm. "Thena, are you okay?"

She groans again, peeling her eyes open and enduring the unpleasantness it brings. "Not great."

He sighs. It must be pretty bad if she's admitting it. He leans down, looping her arm around his shoulders so he can pick her up. "I'm sorry, honey--come on."

Thena burrows into his arms, shivering as soon as she's out from under her duvet. "Why is it so cold?"

"It's just you," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple and rushing her to the couch. He takes the blanket off the back of the couch and throws it over her.

"What time is it?" she sighs, looking at him with bloodshot and glassy eyes.

"I just got back from the market. It's almost 10," he laments, knowing that she hates feeling like she's slept in at all.

"Oh god, I have so much work to do, too," she groans, throwing her head back into the pillow against her back on the arm of the couch.

"Not anymore, you don't," he shakes his head, already rolling up his sweater sleeves and pulling on the apron she got for him within days of moving him in with her. "Only thing you're doing today is letting me take care of you."

"Gil-"

"Ah!" he cuts her off, sticking his finger in the air. He walks back to the couch, standing over her and leaning upside down into her view, tapping her furrowed brows. "Don't 'Gil' me. You lie back and I'll get some sundubu on the go."

Thena quiets. She does love his sundubu jjigae.

Gil returns to the kitchen, already pulling out his clay pot and silken tofu. "And unless you're 100% better tomorrow, you're not going into work either."

"Gil, I have to go to work."

"Sick?" he asks back, and he knows he's derailed her stubbornness with one word. "Sersi will understand. And I'll call the museum myself if I have to--you know I will."

"Yes, I know," she grumbles back from her little makeshift bed.

He's already called the museum once, loudly and proudly proclaiming it was her boyfriend calling to tell her he'd drop off her lunch since she'd forgotten it at home. She'd claimed he just liked embarrassing her.

It was actually to discourage the front desk guy Gil knows has a crush on her.

"Do we at least have some advil for it?" she asks, although he can hear how tired she is in her voice. "Maybe I can get some of the work I'll miss tomorrow done."

He finishes chopping up the kimchi and ginger and throws it into the sizzling sesame oil. "Princess, don't you dare get up off that couch."

"Ugh."

He chuckles to himself. She's so petulant when she's got her mind set on something and something gets in her way. "Just let me take care of things, baby."

"I wouldn't really call that a forte of mine."

That's one hell of an understatement. Thena has been hellbent on taking care of things ever since getting him out of Korea safely and to London with her. And he knows that part of it is the fact that he made such a point of taking care of her before.

But he has always wanted to take care of her. Ever since he got her application for a receptionist on his desk and wondered what the hell she was doing wanting to work for him.

Then he met her. And he had fallen head over heels for her. He knew he shouldn't have--he knew (and knows) better than to mix business and pleasure. And she also never spoke unless spoken to, didn't ask about anyone, didn't even say goodbye unless prompted to.

And he wouldn't have been able to express his feelings anyway. So instead he did...things--little things. He had flowers anonymously delivered on her birthday. He learned what her favourite foods were and would order them for lunch, one for him and one for her. He discovered she couldn't stand the smell of cigarette smoke and banned smoking in and around the office completely.

That one might have been a little too transparent.

But he'd gotten to know Thena, and she'd opened up to him slowly over the course of her time in Seoul . And the more he learned, the more he loved about her. Quietly, in a forlorn kind of way. He'd never intended on getting her mixed up in his 'business'.

Now she's lying on their shared couch while he makes his favourite comfort food dish for her.

Thena blinks as he kisses her forehead again. She looks up at him, bleary eyed and sniffly.

"I love you," he smiles down at her, and he has never meant anything he's said more.

She stares back up at him, and the glassy sheen over her eyes intensifies. She blinks a few times though, letting the tears collect in her eyelashes. "I love you, too."

#Thenamesh Receptionist AU #Some domestic fluff #in these trying times #in this economy #it continues to warm my heart #that people have responded so well to the AUs #and that they've found their way into people's hearts

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello! My name is Lucy and I just thought about Thena getting like stoned or something but without knowing it because of her Mahd Wy'ry confusion. I mean, if they can get drunk then...

Oh and I love your fanfictions so much! So here a few hearts for YOU ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

(I've never been stoned, so I don't really know how I would write it. I hope it's okay I took a different angle with it!)

Thena sighed, looking out the window as she snacked on the berries Gilgamesh had been soaking in the fridge. She'd been eating them for the better part of an hour, now, but Gil wouldn't mind. He always acquiesced to any desires she had after an episode of Mahd Wy'ry.

As if it weren't her who should have been offering him anything he wanted. But he never said anything of the sort, never blamed her for the scrapes and cuts and bruises. And he certainly never let her sit and wallow in her misery for long. Thus, the impromptu trip to the market for pie supplies. She was making sure to leave enough of the berries for his filling.

Her head was woozy, as it often was after going under. The Australian sun was out in full force, making her feel warm and flushed. She rose for some water but found herself a little off balance.

Thena blinked as she found herself on the floor. She furrowed her brows, looking around the kitchen from her lower vantage point. Her knees were collapsed like a fawn's and her dress was pooled around her. It took some determination to get herself up again.

The desire to see him was fierce. It always was, and especially when he went out to run any sort of errand. They had always been inseparable, and being alone in Australia - just the two of them - had only exacerbated that need. No, that wasn't the word, rather...enabled. She had enabled herself at every opportunity.

After the initial instinct to pull away from him.

But he hadn't let her withdraw entirely. He would always lure her out of her room with the temptation of his delicious food, or he would sleep on the couch until she finally gave in and urged him to sleep in his bed, lest his back plague him for days afterword. And then he would say that he would only sleep if she was sleeping next to him.

And that was how 'the' bed had become 'their' bed, less than twenty years ago.

Thena grunted, dragging herself up and to their bedroom on her shaky feet. She chided herself to get a grip; Warriors could not afford to be so off-balance.

The smell of Gil hit her as soon as she walked into the room and a giggle fought its way out of her mouth. She really was loopy after her latest episode. But the warm and familiar scent made her sway on the spot, happily letting her head swim around on her shoulders.

She made it to the bed, at least, sitting on his side of it. It was a little softer, a little more slept in by his heavier form. She liked to imagine she could see the imprint of his broad shoulders. Although it would be further towards the centre of the bed; they would lie down on separate sides, only to inevitably roll onto their sides together.

The first time she'd woken in his arms like that she'd protested that he could get hurt, letting himself be so defenseless around her now. He had pressed her face back into his chest and told her to remind him in five minutes.

Thena dug through his side of the armoire for a shirt of his, burying her nose in it with a sigh. "My Gil."

"Thena?"

He was here! It was like magic. She stood quickly to greet him, only for the world to tilt oddly as she did.

"Whoa!" Gil rushed forward to catch her in his arm. She was unusually...noodly. "Thena, are you okay?"

"Hi," she giggled up at him, leaning so heavily into his arm that soon he was lowering her to the ground before she could twist her back. "What are you doing here?"

Gil just blinked at her. "Home?"

"You're home!" she declared anew, as if just seeing him.

Not that he didn't love seeing her bright, sparkling green eyes and her wide grin, but he frowned. He tipped her chin up, looking at the glassiness and faint red of her eyes. She took his touch for something else and leaned forward. "The-!"

Thena sighed against his lips, folding her arms around his neck. She parted with him only to bury her face in his neck. "You don't kiss me enough."

"I'll get right on that," Gil murmured, rubbing her back as he tried to piece together what was happening to his Warrior Eternal. "You feeling okay?"

"I feel amazing," she purred into him, one of her hands sliding down his chest before stopping to trace whimsical circles over his heart. "Never felt so light after going Mahd."

Going Mahd--she had started calling it that in jest, but soon it was a way of speaking lightly about it, as much as Gil felt it had a slightly negative undertone. He sniffed the air, working past the scent of her feathery hair. "What have you been eating?"

"Hm?" Thena sighed again, burying her nose in his shirt. "Those berries in the fridge."

"In the fridge," Gil repeated, his frown and furrowed brows becoming more permanent. "I was soaking those in bourbon--for the pie."

But instead of realising that she was drunk, she pulled away and pouted at him. Her still-glassy eyes swam with tears and her lip wobbled. "Are you mad?"

"No, no, it's okay, I'm not mad," he rushed to assuage her, whispering sweet nothings to her as he pulled her against him again. That alone seemed to calm her, leaving her purring against his chest again. "I'm a little worried that you've never been wasted before."

Thena wasn't even listening to him, walking her fingers back up to his shoulders to slide his suspenders off. She had never been one to partake in the drink, not even in revelry after one of her countless victories. She had always claimed that a real Warrior would never allow themselves to be left vulnerable by their own bodily functions.

Gil had argued that he got drunk all the time. Thena's response was to say that he had her for protection, so it was fine. The dig had been intended to annoy Ikaris, which it did.

"What do you say we get you some water, maybe some bread," Gil chuckled as he picked her up in his arms. She swung her legs, held under her knees by his strong forearm. He didn't mind the fidgeting, more than able to hold her steady despite it.

"I don't want bread," she pouted at him again, and he was already looking forward to telling her all about this when she was sober enough to feel embarrassed about it. "I want pie."

"It's not ready yet."

"You make the best pies," Thena sighed, not even noticing as Gil carried her back to the kitchen. She pouted when he leaned away from her again, "where are you going?"

"I'm right here," he promised her, letting her hold his hand stubbornly as he stretched to pour her a glass of water. "Tell you what--you drink all of this and eat some bread, and then we can have the honey buns I stashed away in the cupboard."

#Thenamesh #Thena #Gilgamesh #and Mahd Wy'ry and all of Australia #it really does beg the question #why does Gil give her nonalcoholic wine in the movie #if not because her being drunk isn't a good thing #and I did take some liberties with this #I'm sorry #I hope you don't mind #thank you so much for the kind words #I'm so glad you like reading my work!