#sprinkles of it. it will show up more next chap

[agonyaster]

part three, the gym leader arc!

[jolalibrary]

it means something

joel miller x f!reader | masterlist

summary: compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show; they make you glow, and feel like something worth choosing.

to @joelsflannel, i took aspects of all your prompts. i tried to make it fluffy, her a little romantic, i tried to give you a quote that i hope you adore, with a man i know you already love. and i sprinkled in a hard day for you, but with some stress-easing fun to unwind with. merry christmas <;3

wordcount: 3.2k warnings: softer!joel, soft sex (p in v), talks of love, jackson era joel, mentions of ellie, joel in a towel (like damn). written for @pedrostories secret santa event.

You’re tired, drained.

Somehow, you find yourself able to drag your feet from the livelier part of Jackson to the quieter, almost more peaceful part. The soles of your boots draw lines behind you, all of which will likely be covered by the newly settling snow within the hour.

It's picturesque, this place. The kind of location you expect would have once been on postcards that people would be sent to loved ones saying 'wish you were here'.

You don't have to wish.

If your eyes weren’t like pinholes, you’d take a second to admire it.

Stamp your boots in one spot, and enjoy the crunch of it under your feet. A thing you’d do on any other day, if not for the fact, that you were so ready to be in the warmth, to be with him—to curl into him and breathe in his scent.

The kind of scent which buries itself into your nose, to your soul. It wraps its fingers around you and digs its clutches into you. Not that you complain. You'd bathe in it if you could, happily letting him smear it over your skin whenever the two of you have the chance.

It’s why you continue to move. It's why you force one leg in front of the other, muscles begging for reprieve.

By the time you’re up the steps, fingers wrapping around the handle of the front door, you realise how badly you wish to shed your layers. Desiring nothing more than to slide out of your coat, unwrap your scarf, remove the hat, gloves and second pair of socks.

Twisting the handle, the door doesn't fight letting you inside. Instead, it welcomes you. Allowing you to move quickly inside, more than anyone would expect from someone so fatigued—removing the layers, hanging each in turn on the rack beside his.

A sight which tugs at something inside you. It loops its fingers around that feeling within, gently pulling—it is all warm, unexplainable; all hard to describe, but the closest word is lovely, nice—welcomed.

That feeling had been born before the end of days, but it had been nothing but an ember then. Now, it was a roaring fire, all lit by him.

You're sure he knows. Not that either of you talk about it. It added to the long list of things you never speak, not for his sake, but for yours.

Even when you first began your… thing with him, you’d found it as difficult as him to know what to call it. Especially, when it had all happened so randomly, with no explanation or sight that it would occur. It just did.

Smiling, you allow yourself a moment to think back to it. How warm it was. How the setting sun smudged an array of shades across the sky, how you'd been bitter about something, mumbling under your breath until a noise cut through your dismay. His laughter. All gruff and born from his throat. It had expelled into the space between the two of you, cut through your bad mood.

Because it had been louder than you’d ever heard it as the two of you walked back, as you did on so many other nights. But that night had felt so different—and it was.

One moment you were staring, and the next his lips found yours, all chapped, but soft. His fingers around your cheek, whispering your name so gently. Stroking your skin, all worn, a bit rough.

Now, the two of you are a habit. A routine.

Nothing has ever been discussed, nothing ever exchanged. Just some nights you ate dinner with him—knee pressed against his. Sometimes your things sat along his in his home, bobby pins and whatever book you were reading.

Some days Ellie let herself into your house, had made a bedroom out of one of your spares, and sometimes she asked if you wanted to come round to theirs.

The only constant thing is that at least once every week, your limbs found themselves tangled with his. His mouth latched itself onto your neck, hand grasping at your breast, fingers pinching the peak of your nipple as he gruffly told you how hard you’d gotten him.

You liked it. Craved it.

Enjoyed the way you took him apart as he focused on making you a mess.

You liked seeing his salt and pepper curls cling to his forehead, liked running your nails through the hair on the back of his neck—back arched into him, feeling fuller than you’d ever imagined you could. Hearing his gruff voice in your ear, saying words he'd never say if he wasn't buried to the hilt inside of you.

But then, you only call him Joel when he's between your thighs too.

"Miller?"

His name rings around the first floor of the house.

Checking the package in your pocket, you sigh as the day drips from your tight muscles. Hand moving to rub the back of your neck, staring at Ellie's half-open comic and the pencils you'd lent her over the table.

You knew she wouldn't reply, not when tonight was movie night. A Christmas one, she'd told you. She had already let it slip she was going, told you as she kept watch on the door so you could continue your surprise for him.

Her request for you to join her faded when you looked up at her, likely seeing the same look which now greets you in the dust-covered mirror.

Kicking off your boots, and removing one layer of socks, you sigh at the way your feet can all of a sudden breathe—even inside his thick socks. Wiggling your toes, you smile as you begin to curl and unfurl them, before your hand finds the bannister, dragging yourself up the stairs until you reach his room.

His empty room.

Heart falling, you consider calling out again. Using his first name this time—letting each of the four letters carry around the house.

But, his bed looks comfortable. It calling to you. Somehow finding yourself lying on it, your face pressed into his sheets, your bones and muscles sighing in relief that you're in a bed.

Eyes wishing to flutter shut, body unwinding against the mattress, the sheets. It’s on the third heavy exhale, do you realise you hear water. It falls in pitters and patters, distantly, likely from the bathroom across the hall.

That’s when a smile curls across your face because you’ve always found comfort in the sound of running water.

Whether it’s rivers or rain, and showers or leaks. It reminds you of calmness, of things fading from reach—washing away, starting anew. Memories of times trying to colour themselves in your mind, fading before they do as sleep tries to coax you away.

The only thing which displaces the grip sleep has on you, is the comforting sight that comes to a stop at the foot of the bed.

Steam swirling around him, all broad shoulders and still damp skin—the hair on his chest, arms, and stomach, clinging in half-swirled curls and straight lines, the towel clutched at his hip.

The first time you saw Joel Miller naked, you’d almost lost the function to speak. All man—all soft and muscle simultaneously. Something constructed from fantasies, made in real life, carved and moulded by hands you think never thought he’d be real. You were close to not being able to speak all over again now.

Eyes tracing, outlining and shading—squirrelling away a sketch of him you’ll think about when the other side of the bed is cold and not filled with him.

“Didn’t hear you come in.”

You hum, lifting up onto your elbows, admiring him, finding him doing the same—even if you suspect you’re not half as good-looking right now as he is.

Least of all when he takes your ankle in hand, moving you sideways with him as steps between your legs now hanging off the bed, the fabric of his towel brushing over your jeans, his palms coming down on the mattress on either side of your neck, staring at you with a look of concern.

“Y’not been sleepin’?”

“Just been busy,” you reply, arms looping around his neck. “Not lots of time to rest.”

You suppose at some point between summer and winter, things became soft—less about need and company, and something along the lines of real.

In another world, one not ridden with fungi and death, you suppose it would have been labelled, added something which tied the two of you together—something meaning more to others than it likely would do to you.

Smiling, you force your eyes to open properly. Watching that look of hunger slowly bleed out over the concern, vanishing entirely when you smirk. If the two of you were different, you suspect you'd tell him you miss him. Tell him you've thought about him.

Instead, you whisper, “Want you, Joel.”

Even more so when you trace the words over his mouth. Aware of his hands on your jeans, and how he's popped open the button, how he's dragging down the zipper. The fabric freely slides from your skin as your hands slide down, dropping to the towel at his waist—thumb digging over it, all ready to pull, unravel it. “Need you.”

His eyes narrow swallowed in darkness. “Yeah?”

Nodding, you roll your lips, dragging your fingers to the tuck, undoing it, not taking your eyes off him. Seeing something in his eyes that is more than just reciprocation of the words spoken, but the ones left unsaid.

“You want me?”

However, you’ll have me.

You’re not sure you speak it, but you're sure he hears it all the same.

For how aloof people think he is, he’s a man who listens—not just to the crunch of branches and the rustle of trees, but to the things people don’t say. He hears their secrets and pulls away their lies. Skills he told you one night he levelled up in when the world tried to keep taking more than it had already.

You suppose it’s how he knows you, your body, what you want and what you crave.

More so as he tangles his tongue with yours, all heady—gripping him firm, tightly as his fingers snake between the two of you. Desperation thrumming through your fingers as you push them into his skin, into his muscles—feeling the coil tighten as he moves his fingers with nothing short of precision. Knowing you, having mapped you out, learnt your cues—it’s why you don’t fight it, the incoming wave ready to drench your taut muscles, let him undo you, unravel you out so you’re nothing but spread out for him.

He likes it like that, you can tell. Likes how you surrender to him, how you lay out for him, letting him move you how he needs you.

It used to be rough, desperate—pure carnal. But, it’s been replaced by something else, something not soft or romantic, but you’re sure it’s a distant relative.

Once you’d gotten a bruise on your hip that pulsed, shifted in shades from being nudged against your kitchen table. Now when he leaves them, he traces them with his thumb, hoping to suck out the sting. Because now you’re treated to comfort—too recently washed bedding and his fingers inside your cunt as your body bends into him, practically curls, sings, hums.

“Always so fuckin’ tight for me.”

Compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show. Each lick of his gaze makes you glow, and feel like something worth choosing, having been picked, plucked—and placed on some mantle you don’t even mind being perched on.

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, breathing a struggle, practically gasping, you mumble his name—murmur it, almost a whine. “Fuck me now, Joel. Want you inside of me.”

Then, you’re overwhelmed.

Bathed in both the scent of fresh soap, dewy skin and absolute fullness. Your legs wrapping, crossing at the ankles as he slides into the hilt—pausing, just as he always does, fingers brushing over your jaw until he’s tilting your chin.

That same look—the one you first witnessed after the kiss under the dusk.

It doesn’t vanish until you show him, either in a whisper of the magic words or a movement he can read as a spell. Your hips rolling, rocking—please, please.

Your hands take in the feel of him breathing, the way his chest expands, fills with the knowledge, the realisation, nails digging, almost all in order. One he answers, delivers, fucking stamps.

Joel makes your toes curl, makes white noise appear in your ears, and makes you forget every important thing you’ve ever filed away. All hot, scorching against your skin as you grasp him closer, hoping you’ll be smothered in burns—hoping the same when you swallow his grunts, his hisses off your name. His hips pistoning, aiming to send you over the edge before him, hands—riddled with the evidence of his survival and his new hobby keep you rooted, don’t allow you to wander off into bliss without him.

“Too good f’me, sweetheart.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, right against your pulse, before he licks against what beats under your skin.

You snort amidst your whine, clutching all the strings which keep you whole as you close your eyes—banish him from looking into your soul. He’s seen all there is there, let him in before, provided flashes, evidence of your shattered soul and broken mentality. It comes to the surface easier here, when your walls suck him in, and your body calls for him in a chorus of pleading and begging.

Because you’re close—not needing too much from him tonight, the sight of him is enough. The knowledge of his existence, knowing he’s yours without confirmation.

“There, right there,” you moan, heels digging into the base of his back, feeling the jostle of him, the way he rears and fucks.

He smirks, shifting, just enough to make the head of his cock hit the spot which makes your thighs shake, tremble, fucking quake. His mouth still split open, words there on his tongue, all ready to drape over your skin—

But, you just feel it’s incoming arrival. All white-hot, blinding—too much pressure, yet needing just a little bit more. Your body is not yours, mind empty, gone, faded. You want to sink your teeth into him, bite down, cut into him and leave a mark like the ones he leaves inside you each time the two of you do this.

Because it means something. This. The two of you in this little house in fucking Jackson. Doesn’t it? Doesn’t it?

“Yea’,” he grunts, palm on your face, tilting you up roughly, forcing your eyes to open.

And you swear he smiles when they flash open. You swear it.

“Means somethin’, sweetheart. This—fuck—us.”

The words grind into you. As though he's the pestle and your mortar. Your breath is lost, unable to be grasped, your body hanging, pleasure a bigger force—swallowing the room, casting you in shadows and misting over you—until you cry out. Squeezing, fluttering.

Not able to see anything but his face, the look on his face—the twisted expression of his lips and the deepness of his eyes. More black, than brown—but they’re somehow still soft, still full of something you hope is pleasant and full of emotions.

It only vanishes briefly when he spills inside of you.

When he collapses on top of you—his heart hammering against your ribs. And, even if it isn’t the first time, you feel yourself still—pause, no rash movements, because this is nice, this is something you want without asking for it.

“Can’t believe I can hear y’brain already.”

Snorting, you roll your eyes, glancing over—finding his lips have slid into his cheek.

It gnaws at you, the reason for your lack of sleep. The thing which you've traded hours of rest for. That dormant part pushed to the edge by exhaustion, now awake and very much worrying.

“Got you something,” you whisper, biting your lip, watching his brows furrow and lines appear between them.

Standing up, you steal the dressing gown from the back of his door—the one you’d traded for months ago. The one which is far too big, even for him, making it only cosier when you borrow it. Shooting him a smile, you almost disguise it, worried it's far too soft, too normal, before you mumble about being right back.

It's a hurry to the front door, all feet hammering down on wooden steps before your hand digs in your coat pocket, retrieving the wrapped thing you’ve lost shuteye over.

When you enter, he’s under the sheets—hair at odd angles, looking both a mixture of energised and fucked out that you wish you could paint with your fingers, so you'd forever have it.

“Didn’t wanna give this to you on the 25th—just in case you popped a vein trying to figure out what it means.”

Kneeling on the bed, you take a levelling breath, before handing it to him. His eyes travelling from you to it, fingers taking it—all delicate, measured. Before he unpeels the ribbon, undressing it with more care than he often shows you, before it rolls free of the paper you managed to find. It catches the ceiling light, glinting, gleaming, the handle looking even more detailed in this light than under the candles you’d had to use to remain discreet.

In your hand, the knife had appeared large, and menacing. In his, it looked right.

Yet, his face looked as though it was anything but.

Enough for you to prod, needle. To nudge closer on your knees, to smooth out the sheets and then flick your lashes up, finding him already staring, weighing it up—whatever coated his tongue, had been written in his mind.

“Sweetheart… I don’t… I don’t deserve this—”

More words fall in silence, not quite spoken, yet somehow loud.

Enough for you to say his name, to rest your knee on the bed and deeply sigh.

“You…’m not a good man.”

You almost laugh, but you don’t. Crawling up, placing your hand on his chest, you take a shaky breath. “I’m not sure I care.”

And you don't.

Because it's easy to feel something for him, to love him. It's natural, there one day and the day after. It wasn't hard or difficult, but very fucking easy.

Your mouth even opens to say as much, but you close it again before a syllable is muttered.

Wrapping the gift, he moves it from between the two of you, to the bedside table. His fingers linger, hovering over the carved wood—the one which caused splinters and made your eyes almost cross over. “Y’should. M’not an easy man to love.”

“I disagree,” you whisper, fingers having slid up to the base of his neck, your fingers teasing his curls. “Since I’m pretty sure I already feel those things for you.”

His brows lift, and you smile—letting it speak the words you can’t say, and you’re sure he’s not willing to hear.

“Don’t sweat it, alright? You’re mine, I’m yours. Yeah?”

Nodding, he bites his cheek, placing the knife back into the packaging—moving it, replacing what he’d been holding with your wrist as he pulls you close.

“Got you somethin’ too.”

Nose bumping his, you shift closer, thighs finding themselves on either side of him—his hands finding a place on them, sliding up, callouses grazing on your skin, before squeezing.

“But y’gotta wait until the 25th. Like a good girl.”

Smirking, you cup his cheeks. "Okay, Miller. I'll wait."

an: merry christmas, i hope you love this <3

[speakofthedebbie]

you (read: i) asked so you shall recieve: radioapple fic recs august 2024 update!!

the following are the ones from the last post w/some minor changes (think: misspellings and even more osas praising) (sorry for the re-tags!!):

Bedtime Rituals to Try out Before the Next Angelic War by @miribalis

just yes. thousand times yes. so basically my boy luci has some sleep troubles and that somehow leads to a qpr with al look its been a while ok just read it

Managerial Liberties by the same fella

these two tags explain it pretty well

something that sticks out to me about this is that charlie is actually (reasonably) cold to adam and like. im actually surprised with how little ive seen that. i mean i dont think id be exactly buddy-buddy with my besties killer either. only 4 chaps as of writing but already looking to be a radioapple classic. has the same vibe as bedtime rituals, but it is NOT a sequel

devils don't fly (don't expect me not to fall) by @corgiss

also just yes. basically a really not cool joke evolves into a blossoming romance because why wouldnt it. (man if i had a nickel for every radioapple fic that had a masquerade that was sabotaged by the vees- *gets shot bc i cant mention osas yet*)

i’ll hold you close (i’ll stay the course) by the same fella

the entire time i was just going "yas king! put that egotistical flatscreen in his place!!". basically luci reminds the overlords who he is and vox shows he can be more of a threat than he lets on.

ykw fuck it just the entire series (i didnt mention i would give anything to not give a shit (but i do) and my perfect rock bottom (my beautiful trauma) because the first one sounded a lil too angsty and ive gotten enough of that from other sources [pointedly glares at Quietly, It Slips Through Your Fingers, Love {also coming up later!}] and the second is (mostly) smut

Of Saints and Sinners by the forever amazing @morningstarwrites!! (if you see this i have a serious question: is this your first time ever writing a fic? because how do you get so much right the first time- [not even beginners luck could explain this level of skill])

if youre even half the radioapple fanatic i am and havent read this, literally what are you doing?? i could sing its praises until my death bed but ill hold off so i can explain whats happening. basically after burning down a meeting room several times, luci and al make a deal ("not a deal!", luci laments to the void): they will attempt to be civil and maybe even friendly, with some daily compliments sprinkled along the way, and by the end luci will owe al a favour. whats the favour? read it yourself dammit! seriously, 10/10, i foam at the mouth every friday

Quietly, It Slips Through Your Fingers, Love by Starlit_Rainfall (no tumblr in sight, so AO3) (i. urgfgh. what happened. i was just smiling over the fluff while crossing to go to school. where did it go. where did it gooooo)

if thats anything to go by, the last few chapters have been rough. the fluff feels so far away that i cant even explain what happens. luci was waxing poetic about swimming in maple syrup for al, i remember that much. lilith is particularly an asshole even tho we havent seen her yet (or maybe we have. idr, mightve chatted with al) also emily is there (fallen) and has a lil smth to do with als and liliths deal. if you read it, warning for the gut punch of angst that starts chap 32 "She/Her" (though the chapter before that, "Should Alastor Know By Now?" ends pretty rough too)

Freely We Serve by @romanaxe

i dont remember how i managed to stumble upon this but im having a great time. basically alastor is a new sinner fresh in hell (but time doesnt matter and the whole cast is still here) and thinks "what better way to gain power than be the personal assistant of the heartbroken king of hell!" features a 6-7 (rosies words) year old charlie and a morally dubious lilith (also i loved eepy al X3)

A Family Forged in Hellfire by Green_Ghostwriter (once again, no Tumblr, so AO3)

this ones a bit newer (10 chaps), is so far mostly exposition and the slowburn pot hasnt even been put on the stove, but as just a hazbin fic in general i see the potential. basically its a 1920s(30s?) au where heaven decides little charlie doesnt deserve to be raised in hell and is sent to earth with a "foster" family where her actions in life will determine witch realm she will return to after death. her "parents", al and mimzy, are given false memories so they can claim the girl as their own and gee i wasnt kidding when i said it was a lot of exposition. erm honestly explaining anymore would tech be spoiling so go read it!!

The Red Thread That Binds Us by @scun-gilli

{{future me prefacing this by saying i have no idea where i was going with yesterdays thought process, all you need to know from it was im on chapter 27. also scungilli your comment is making me very worried 😟 well theres no mcd tag so im sure itll fine, right? RIGHT, SCUNGILLI??}}

basically its a king x kings guard au where al and luci grow up together and only grow closer after a. certain life event for al (its fine guys trust :)) [she said, like a liar]) then al is sent off for royal guard training school (ik its not called that i forgor 😭) but dw he comes back. just watch out for graphic depictions of injuries (i think thats this fic) angst and a sneaky eve bc radioapple fics are allergic to happiness (or maybe im not looking hard enough lol) (also im really tempted to make the friendship bracelets they had 👀)

somewhere down the line by kj_crwm (AO3 link)

this one starts off as human!alastor/lucifer but by the middle(?) its just regular radioapple. basically al is encountered by luci while finishing off a job who agrees to keep quiet. luci just keeps on showing up, reveals hes the devil to which al us just like "lol ok" and eventually they get in a relationship (ooh lala 👀) but they break up after saying some hurtful things to each other (oh nono 👀) with luci promising al they will never cross paths again. if you watched the show then well. you know that doesnt happen 😂 most human!al radioapple have al summon him (no hate to them) so this was an interesting change of pace

new recs below!! ↓↓

Alastor and Lucifer do whatever the Hell this is (series) by Vagabond_Sloth (personally asked, no Tumblr, but they might make one 👀)

i know this is radioapple fic rec post but... *cough* Husk and Angel do a Romance for some soft huskerdust *cough* anyway- basically, a perplexing flower arrangement leads to a blossoming something between the resident radio demon and king of hell. seriously, its some good shit, and the author is really nice!

A Compliment A Day by @decembercamiecherries

spinning this around in my head at all times

basically, a classic "charlie makes al and luci compliment each other as a bonding excessive" but it does not disappoint (check out her other three radioapple fics too)

a lovely night (lalaland is that you??) and pancakes, small talk by @mirotic_chess (X Twitter account)

in a lovely night they do a lil dancey dancey and in pancakes, small talk luci makes some pancakes!!

Sin and Sentiment and Time On My Hands by demon_fawn (supposed Tumblr leads to a dead end)

oh my god future debs here and i am so fucking tired of doing these descriptions but. um. the plot for sin and sentiment def seems very interesting and time on my hands is an incomplete (but good!) attempt at radioapple week. hmm not sure if they still post bc the most recent update was july 12th

honestly just every radioapple fic by @otoshigo (i think ive read all but Forbidden Fruit of the Poisonous Tree)

if you look underneath the little island that is radioapple, on god otoshigo is one of the creators holding it up. all 19 (yes, 19. we eatin good tonight [excluding forbidden fruit]) of their radioapple fics are fantastic, buuut if i had to recommend anything specific: A Guide to the Care and Maintenance of the King of Hell (fuck count furfur!) and The Devil's Trip to the Big Apple

not to continue the trend, but basically anything by @thief-of-eggs (even the singular huskerdust) but personal recommendations: Trust and Hair Pets and Let Me Be Your Shelter (sickfics 🔛🔝)

idk if youll catch me doing the descriptions for these anymore shit was exhausting

tagging time!!!! (i want to end it all)

[tonguetiedraven]

Hi!! I’m not sure if you’ve already read the latest chaps, and Kato is obviously building up rinshi, but it all just reads as more izushie and bonrin to me. I think izumo’s confrontations are just SCREAMING for a Shiemi confession, and maybe some crumbs of bonrin if they can be sprinkled in ❤️

I am absolutely reading the latest chapters and I have to agree, lol. A lot of it just screams Izushie to me. And if you've got the new Volume, even the final extra has a BonRin vibe <3

I puled @marble-wolf in to help me with this one ^^

We'll post a snippet here, with a link to the full fic at the end :D

"Shiemi…" Izumo's voice trailed off with an uncertainty that she wouldn't admit to feeling as she approached her friend. 

Her friend that seemed to have changed far beyond any of them but still with her eyes so kind (tired, but kind.) She looked beautiful though, and her guards, which should have given an air of intimidation, just annoyed Izumo. She would have to talk to Shiemi with them present. They didn't have time to wait around or waste.  

Shiemi’s head turned over at the sound of her name, and an enormous smile immediately lifted her lips at the sight of Izumo. She didn’t even think before she was stepping out of the processional style line she’d ended up in. 

There was a grumble of annoyance from her guards and ladies in waiting, but she ignored that for now.

“Izu—” she cut herself off abruptly, swallowing the familiarity of that name and all the emotions that came with it. 

“Kamiki.” There. Far safer. 

Izumo paused for a half second, probably not even noticeable, at Shiemi's slip. That had been her name. But Shiemi had cut herself off. 

Izumo stopped close to Shiemi, feeling terribly underdressed next to Shiemi in her extravagant robes and headpiece that seemed to catch and absorb the light. 

She couldn't quite meet her friend's beautiful and earnest and excited eyes as she spoke in her most typical strong tone. 

"I'm sorry about yesterday. I said too much." She shot a glare at the guards behind Shiemi and she hated the way she could feel heat trying to burn in her face but she beat it back, which wasn't terribly hard in this frozen wasteland. "I don't usually talk about love stuff, so I got carried away."

She never dared talk about love before, when her heart had been frozen and she'd been hurting and doing the hurting. 

"But I meant what I said!" And that's as far as she wanted to touch on that subject. But she was finally meeting Shiemi's eyes… Why were they always so bright? It was like looking at a canopy of a forest through sunlight.  

Shiemi’s face went a bit pink. She had thought the conversation was finished before, but she really should have known Izumo better than that. Her friend was in front of her, blushing, cold, and determined. They were on the edge of some impossible battle and Shiemi hadn’t seen her in what felt like years, but she really was just the same person. Grumpy and caring far too much, and so scared to show any of it. 

She was adorable with the scowl and blush, and the color just brought out the magenta of her eyes all the more.

“Okay,” she softly said, “it… It was nice to know you cared.” 

Even if it wasn’t quite right. They hadn’t quite understood each other for most of their friendship though.

She could hear someone shuffling impatiently behind her, and it had her blushing a bit more. 

“I did give it some thought,” she continued, and suddenly couldn’t look in the magenta eyes she had wanted to look at her really look at her almost from the minute she’d first seen them. “I…”

Her courage left her as it always had. She could stand up against Demon Kings, but she really seemed to lack her courage where it counted. 

“But I  can’t tell him.” 

For so many reasons. Mainly because it wouldn’t at all be true, and it wouldn’t be fair to her dear friend. (Or to her other dear friend. Yukio or Rin, either one would hurt the other, and she loved them both and she couldn’t possibly pick one of them. Even if her heart hadn’t picked someone else.

She forced herself to smile, cursing her own cowardice. “Right now, it’s enough for all of us to just be together.”

Because they hadn’t for far too long, and she was certain Rin agreed with her. If it was going to end, she could hardly pick a better one than surrounded by all of them. 

Izumo's eyes narrowed and she leaned closer before her hand shot out to snatch up Shiemi's cheeks, squeezing gently but firmly. The guards reached for her with shouts and swords lifting but she didn't even glance their way. If they were going to stick around they needed to get used to this. 

"You think you're gonna die?!" Izumo thought Shiemi was cute with her cheeks squished. "Well, I agree with Rin! You gotta live!" (They all needed to. She didn't want to lose any of them!)  

Shiemi was pulled forward by Izumo’s grip and nearly fell onto her. A guard dared to draw their sword like she was in danger, and she absently raised a hand to stop them as she stared at Izumo’s much too close face.

It was amazing how right and wrong Izumo was. Entirely right that Shiemi thought she was going to die, and entirely right that she was a coward about talking about it, entirely right that she never talked about love and romance (but gushed when she did), and—

And so entirely wrong about Rin.

[silvertsundere]

Silver Talks AniManga (16/06/24)

new serialization round baby let's gooooo there's nothing too fancy on it but I'm curious about the series that will start in 3 weeks since I read the author's previous manga years ago when it came out, until it got axed, so I wanna see how much they improved since then

green - new series/new to me blue - finale/completed

Anime

Dungeon Meshi Ep24 (Finale)

there really isn't anything else I could've given it. trigger absolutely killed it the whole way through and thank GOD someone convinced the shitflix execs to make this a weekly release instead of the shitty binge model which would've killed the show dead instantly.

but yeah, I haven't read the manga (yet) but I'd seen tons of spoilers before and even more during the show airing ( 😔 ) and it's an incredible adaptation. a lot of people complain about certain scenes not hitting as hard as in the manga for this reason or another but I feel like most (not all) of those complaints are just nitpicking and trying to give off a sense of superiority cause they read the manga beforehand

anyway, great animation the whole way through, like always above average and with a lot of sakuga sprinkled all throughout. we even got unorthodox animation like that one with the siblings or all the scenes made in the classic trigger style instead of this more "mainstream" look they used for the show everything else is stellar too, I loved the whole seiyuu cast and their performances and the music was great as well

also ryoko kui is an incredible author so it was just a treat to see all the thought that went into the world, dungeon and otherwise, tho I already knew that before the anime was even announced

anyway, TL;DR: incredible adaptation and what everyone should dream of getting for their series. can't WAIT for S2 coming TBA, surprised they announced it already cause they have a panel at AX next month so I figured they'd do it there

Manga

Youkai Buster Murakami Ch1

I went into this not expecting much since I read the author's previous work, shugomaru, which while not terrible was also nothing to write home about. I was pleasantly surprised by this tho, I actually liked it a lot more than shugomaru. I was doubtful at first cause "oh boy here comes another exorcist series" until I was told who the author was. as expected it's a comedy series like their previous work. the gimmick is that the main girl is an exorcist and it's her job to seal all these youkais that are being ressurected but she's a huge coward so she brings her, completely normal, friend along to help her and he defeats the youkai by poking holes into it's story like you can see in the pic below I can totally see this being a fun series that I wouldn't mind having stick around for a while if every chap is at least this good. even being a shorter debut of 30 pages it felt like it dragged a bit too long but it should be fine with normal lenght chaps. we'll see how it goes in the coming weeks

Dear Anemone Ch17 (Finale)

man where do I even start with this. first of, I'd thought about giving it a 2 instead of a 1 cause the art is really good but this final chap was so bad it made me change my mind. that spread I picked below is a compilation of stuff that never actually happened in the manga. I guess it was stuff the author had planned but it got axed so yeah. from chap 1 I said the art was good but way too gory for wsj and that stayed true the whole way, it was just way too much for the magazine it was in. impressive that the author managed to keep up the quality in a weekly serialization tho. that's all this manga had tho, the art. everything else was terrible. the story was confused and moving all over the place and the bad ratings made it even worse with the author trying to rush and give reveals and twists constantly which never felt satisfying cause there was no build up to it. the characters didn't felt like characters either and they were just getting pulled along the plot. I went into this not expecting much and still came out disappointed. author is gonna have to put a LOT of effort into their writting if they want do to another serialization or at least they should team up with someone else since again the art was actually really good

[imnotwolverine]

Wolfie’s Fic Recs | The Grand Library of Kink 1/2

THE GRAND LIBRARY OF KINK - Allow me to give you a list of treats to quench the unbearable thirst between your thighs. 

>> Looking for part 2 of this list? <<

🖐WARNING: NSFW - SMUT below the cut 🖐

Author’s note: Let’s be honest. You probably are prowling the Tumblr grounds for the same reasons I am: there’s some darn good porn fics out here. And in the year I’ve been in the Cavillry, I’ve gathered a most wondrous collection of soft to extremely kinky fics. Time..to make a more comprehensible list of my favourites thusfar! (💦It’s long, so you better have some fresh panties at the ready💦)

In this library you’ll find:

Part 1:

Self-help 101  

Cherry Popping Goodness 

Vanilla With A Sprinkling Of Sex Toys 

Vanilla - Toybox Special 

Henry’s Hands Special

The Hook-up

Part 2:

Sensory Delights

The Triple Threat  

Fuck - The Geralt Special

Take It Like A Pussy - The Napoleon Special 

Hammer-time - The Walker Special 

Cpt. Cunnilingus - The Syverson Special

Thighs And Canes - The Sherlock Special 

Fem!DOM 

--

Self-help 101

[This one’s all about the act of self love - solo masturbation]

Toys are for boys. Unless it’s in the bedroom..right? Almost The Same by @lunedelorient  [Henry x Reader]

Mike can’t help himself as his gaze falls upon your lipstick stains on a beer bottle. Where else would he like those stains to be? Lipstick by @emyearns [Mike / reader]

A toy arrives to sweeten the lonely nights when Henry is away. There’s only one minor detail as the package is being unwrapped; she isn’t alone yet. Flying Solo by me [OFC x Henry Cavill]

I love fics written in Henry’s point of view. In this one Henry can’t take it no more. He simply needs to let off some steam; I Need A Woman by @chamomilebottom [Henry Cavill x reader]

This man gets caught..a lot, doesn’t he? You give Henry a helping hand as you catch him in the shower in Welcome Home by @rosethornsanddaisies [Henry Cavill x reader]

I wasn’t sure whether I should put this in the self-help section. So consider yourself warned: watch out..you’re in for a solo-lovin’ surprise in On Display by @ladyreapermc [August Walker x Reader]

--

Cherry Popping Goodness

[There’s a first time for each flower to bloom - loss of vaginal/anal virginity]

The bookstore meet-cute, the skipping heartbeats, and the fluster of cheeks as she just read a steamy passage of her book aloud. It’s the perfect recipe for romance...though there is one tiny, tiny... Her Minor Thing by @ladyreapermc [Henry Cavill x erotica novelist!OFC]

For one night only, gigolo August Walker will make all your fantasies come true. His specialty? Sweet, innocent little flowers. Velvet Chains by @littlefreya [August Walker x reader]

The morning after the cherry popping, a bud starts to bloom. White Honey by @littlefreya [Henry Cavill x reader]

This fic! This. Fic. I hadn’t seen I Capture The Castle when I read this fic, but it made me fall for Stephen so freakin’ hard that I kind of watched the movie straight after. It’s sweet, blushing-cheeks worthy and utterly cinematic. Bluebells by @yespolkadotkitty [Stephen x reader]

August Walker, a virgin? Well..there’s a First Time For Everything by @hope-to-hell [August Walker x reader]

Theseus didn’t mean it to go this way. But he was so thirsty - and now for more then just a drink of water. To Die of Thirst by @hope-to-hell. [Theseus x reader]

It’s Geralt’s first time and isn’t a Witcher body just a fascinating thing..hmm... Anatomy Lessons by @princess-of-riviaa [Geralt x experienced!reader] 

I didn’t know bullet point lists could be this sensual and H.O.T. - First Time w/ Henry by @henchry [Henry Cavill x reader]

GOODNESS ME. Can first times be like this for everyone, please and thank you?! My Flower gives you squirt-inducing, sweet talkin’ Henry making the most out of this special little moment. By @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

Wait till marriage with August? Highly unlikely....right? Uncharted Territory by @chamomilebottom [August Walker x reader]

Now onto some other sanctuaries to plunder. (Anal that is) Poker Night @foodieforthoughts [Syverson x OFC]

Lets @littlefreya’s words entice you into a new world as you and Henry finally pick the Forbidden Fruit (yep, anal again) [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And now we’re on the anal train, I do notice that men barely ever get any backdoor lovin’ from their partners. And I know, I know: most men are really apprehensive about it. But goodness can it be good! Sy has learned of it’s sweetness and reminisces that first time in Sy And The Sex Tape by @hope-to-hell [Syverson x reader]

--

Vanilla With A Sprinkling Of Sex Toys

[Couple’s sex with just a touch of kink] 

Let’s start with a game. Written in the language of love (French that is), this enticing bit of foreplay gets the blood streaming alright. Invisible Touch by @emelinelovesjc [Henry Cavill x reader]

Is it time for my favourite poetic foreplay fic?! YES it IS! Ode by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether just does something for me and I can simply not explain - just go ahead and read it and see for yourself! [Henry Cavill x reader] 

The key to good sex, is foreplay. And teasing during an event? You bet your  sweet ass you can get Henry riled up. Tease by @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x reader]

Ready for some myrrh mountain-esque, super indulgent eroticism? Read Confessions by @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x reader]

Birthday sex

What do you give a man who has it all, for his birthday? A little boudoir, a little make-out on the couch and...Happy Birthday by @rosethornsanddaisies [Henry Cavill x reader]

Apparently boudoir pictures for Henry’s birthday is on y’alls mind! A Picture’s Worth by @sunflowersstan gives you a belated birthday present - but that definitely should not spoil the fun. [Henry Cavill x reader]

Home (coming)

For once, Henry is forgiven for his ungodly early alarm clock: it’s beach time! And Kal will be there too. Home by @chamomilebottom [Henry Cavill x reader]

Henry, unfortunately, isn’t always home. In fact, he’s away quite a lot. Meaning it’s all the important to make up for lost time: Welcome Home by @geralt-of-baevia [Henry Cavill x reader]

And what’d you do if he finally comes home, but an impromptu surprise party is organised by his friends? Better Keep Quiet, baby. By @toomanystoriessolittletime [Henry Cavill x reader]

Does that come with side effects? When a 200 pound beast tackles you after coming home, you just might feel it in the next few days. Lust Worthy by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

Home is also domestic goodness ( “Can I, baby?” He whispers against your cheek, placing a soft kiss to it, his eyes searching to meet yours. >> I mean..YES YOU CAN!! DO WHATEVER YOU MUST YOU HUNK OF A BEAR 😩) in this sweet ficseries chap by @lovelycavills: The Night [Henry Cavill x reader]

Tropes to lovers 

Friends to lovers trope, anyone? Of Fck It by @tillthelandslide gives you beers on the couch, friendly banter and then WOOPSIEDOODLIEDOO. [Henry Cavill x reader]

More friends to lovers with one accidental wet dream while lounging on the couch with Henry. Dreaming by @yoursecretsmutblog [Henry Cavill x reader]

Or perhaps PA/boss to lovers? Thunder by @toomanystoriessolittletime gives you Henry in full Geralt gear and rain..lots and lots of rain - meaning it’s time for a ..😏break. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

One more PA story to get the storm in your pussy settled. Years after working for Henry, you send a drunk text and he Answers. In the flesh. By @toomanystoriessolittletime [Henry Cavill x reader]

Audio porn

Another thing I got quite attached to while I learned all about my kinks here on Tumblr, is audio porn. And what better than to have Henry do some audio recording for us thirsty women? Erotic Audios Present... By @thetaoofzoe [Henry Cavill x OFC]

More audioporn!Henry? @toomanystoriessolittletime has got you covered with Talk Dirty To Me, starring photographer Henry who has had.. a bit of a past - and doesn’t his voice sound terribly familiar? 🧐[au!Henry Cavill x reader]

Communication

Smutty fics practically always skip the “So what do you actually like”-part. Well. This fic covers it - and then some. The Interview by @peachyvulpixie. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And communication is very - very important. Especially when moving stuff around, right Henry? A Little Bit To The Left by @lunedelorient [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Communication is also key when you want to decide on sub/dom dynamics. Switch has daddy vibes, but in a domestic, confidential, well-established relationship. By @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader] 

Or, you may just want to tell sweet Henry that it’s definitely okay to get a little louder between the sheets. Express Yourself by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

A thrilling ride

Want to “chose your own adventure” in smutty style? @sciapod’s got just the thing you’re looking for with BD Morning Energy  [Henry Cavill x reader]

Sometimes it’s rough, sometimes it’s sweet, but ever and ever; it’s truly Henry. Read about various types of horny Henry in Shapeshifter by @wanderinglunarnights [Henry Cavill x reader]

Body/orgasm insecurity

This was a very personal piece to write. I have difficulty reaching orgasms, especially with a partner, so for all fellow ladies with the same little problem: Henry is here to give you some Riding Lessons between the sheets. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And I’m so, so glad that there’s at least a few of you here on Tumblr who can also get a little worried and even impatient between the sheets. Thankfully Henry is the posterboy of Patience, ready to unravel you piece...by.. delicious..piece. By @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Nipple love

Female nips get all the lovin’. But male nipples? Not often. Tease by @the-soot-sprite will make sure that is taken well taken care off. [Henry Cavill x reader]

Alright, and now for a little female nip-nip action, let’s dive right into the action. Rough lovin’, shovin’ Cavill is showing you how terribly fucked out he can get you in In My Thoughts by @jolly-polly [Henry Cavill x reader]

Horizontal vs. vertical sex 

Shower sex is such a delectable topic to read about (even though in real life it’s usually awkward and impractical). Let your dreams bring you..after workout Showers with Henry by @darklydeliciousdesires [Henry Cavill x reader]

Or perhaps honeymoon shower sessions? Mirror by @tillthelandslide [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Did someone say honeymoon? Marshall remembers having to climb through that darn window the night before he married you and it makes for a super sweet, domestic fluffy smutty sex scene. And did I mention there was family right at the other side of the door? 👀 Locked by @fourmarkdove [Marshall x reader]

After all that working out it’s time for some food. But what would Henry prefer: ragu or you? What’s Cooking by @writingforhenry [Henry Cavill x reader]

Netflix and Chill

Netflix and chill, anyone? This Movie Night becomes a little steamy 💦 by @writingforhenry [Henry Cavill x reader]

It’s really difficult to watch tv with Henry around, and Freya gets a little frustrated with his incessant teasing; can a woman not just watch some Mindhunter in peace, damnit?! The Refund by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Play-time! 

From game play to girlfriend play during an extremely boring day in lockdown. Confined by @darklydeliciousdesires [Henry Cavill x reader]

More game chair smuttiness? It’s Game on! Mic on! - And ..Eh.. wait..what?! By @thecavillchronicles [Henry Cavill x reader]

Is tickle-play a thing? After a long day where everything seems to have gone wrong, you just need a good shag and Mike will make sure you can Sleep soundly tonight. @emyearns [Mikey x reader]

Alright, it’s a thing. Here’s some more tickle play with Marshall. Laughing During Sex by @promptandpros [Marshall x reader]

Hereby I declare that hairplay is also a thing. And with curls like Henry’s..I mean..come on. Love So Soft gives you dry-humping like horny teenagers after a bad day - and yes..hairplay. By @princess-of-riviaa [Henry Cavill x reader]

Needy Henry

Sad sky eyes are in dire need of some medicine, but Rose doesn’t realise until she’s getting some action for herself that the best medicine for Henry’s malady, is probably not watery soup. In Morbus Et Salus by @fanficsrusz [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Drunk Henry is in need of a midnight snack. And it’s a good thing there just happens to be one in his bed. Drunk In Love by @angrythingstarlight [Henry Cavill x reader]

And the next morning he might just be a really, really needy bear. (My boyfriend, for one, is always EXTRA horny when he is hungover 😂) Five More Minutes by @angrythingstarlight [Henry Cavill x reader]

A few more

And five minutes is probably all you get when you have kids. But it just makes these little mommy and daddy moments all the more sacred. Close To You by @the-soot-sprite [Henry Cavill x reader]

There’s also not a lot of time when you’re in a limo, trying to get your groove on. 🎶Driver roll up the Partition pleaseee 🎶by @fanficsrusz [Henry Cavill x reader]

Now to finish off this vanilla segment: vanilla kisses! Lick Me Till Icecream by @the-soot-sprite [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

Vanilla - Toybox Special 

[A special toy segment for you vanilla(ish) lovers] 

When it’s play time - long work day or no - Henry better be prepared for some frisky business. On Purpose by @wanna-do-bad-things (also hell yes for including some toys!) [Henry Cavill x one very frustrated OFC]

More toys? MORE TOYS! Command And Obey brings you dom!Henry being a terrible teasing ass, but alas..it still gets you all kinds of wet *shrugs* By @wanna-do-bad-things [Henry Cavill x reader]

Perhaps need some dom!Clark instead? With toys? We’ve got you covered. By @poledancingdinos [Clark x OFC]

Now, let’s not forget about Henry’s favourite toy of them all. His bike. In Good Vibrations by @deathonyourtongue [Henry Cavill x reader]

You find Henry pleasing himself with something you didn’t even know he owned; a fleshlight. Henry’s Toy by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

Henry’s Hands Special 

[I can’t be the only one who has the hots for hands]

Having a bad day? Talented fingers belonging to one caring man of a Henry are here to let off your steam. Burn The Couch by @meowpurrbooks [Henry Cavill x reader]

I’m glad I’m not the only one who has a complete and utter obsession with male hands. This fic is amazing in every way. It’s got suspense, hands AND Henry; Idle Hands by @thelastsock [Henry Cavill x Reader]

More handsy stuff is offered in this private drawing session. Draw Me With Your Fingers by @emelinelovesjc [Henry Cavill x OFC!author]

This fic? ..it’s hands-on work. I must give a disclaimer: I’m hard to please when it comes to daddy!fics, but this one I truly enjoyed. It perfectly rides (hehe) the fine balance between rough throat fucking, choking and usage of the endearing nickname ‘little fawn’. Hands by @twhstuckylover [Henry Cavill x reader]

Henry’s hands are here to warm you up on a cold day in Finger Work by @yoursecretsmutblog [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

The Hook-up

[A little less established, a little more messy. But definitely h-o-t-h-o-t-h-o-t]

Changing rooms may just hide a Dirty Secret (and crotchless pantyhoses) by @foodieforthoughts [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Being toyed around, Henry can’t stand it any longer - and goodness where did he leave that darn bowtie?! Caught In The Storm by @thelastsock [Henry Cavill x Reader]

Syverson is also not one who likes to be toyed around with, especially when you’re in the same bar wearing that deliciously short dress and his favourite high heels. Mine by @yoursecretsmutblog [Syverson x reader]

Dancefloor delights and popping buttons (is this a good time to admit I have ripped some shirts like that? *woops* 😅) - this quite exhibitionistic fic is an utter delight and I’m Glad You Came  by @foodieforthoughts [Henry Cavill x reader]

Since this is steady-hook-up I wasn’t sure whether to post it in this segment or the Vanilla segment, but ..yea..it definitely deserves a read! Rules Of Engagement has Em and Henry coming to the realisation that a friendly hook-up isn’t all that easy. Especially not when one foul IUD throws baby dust in their busy lives. By @ladyreapermc​ [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Marshall specials 

An old friend/lover shows up just when you find yourself with the predicament of a broken down car. Before you know it you’re having car sex with one curly haired police officer in..yea..a police car. A Perfect Shitty Day by @toomanystoriessolittletime [Marshall x reader]

OOPH you girls are in it for the Walter hook-ups. Forget That Asshole follows up after you had one particularly disappointing blind date. And thankfully a blue eyed sweater-bear-man is there to provide you some much needed consolation.  By @penwieldingdreamer [Marshall x reader]

Sex on set

On set things might just get a little steamy, so might as well take ..*clip scene* ACTION! Touch Me Tease Me by @deathonyourtongue [Henry Cavill x OFC]  

More on-set delights? Perhaps with a touch of embarrassing nerves? Directed By La Petite Mort by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

>> Looking for part 2 of this list? <<

--

Artworks/edits are mine ❤️And as always: if you have more fic recs to add, share them in your reblogs/comments! 

--

[dancingazaleas]

𖨆. 01 / all for us

summary: you wake up in a room that seems to be made specifically for you. as it turns out, it is made for you. you find that out when levi ackerman and erwin smith come in to the room and admit you aren’t allowed to leave. how are the first few days?

word count: +2.0k

warnings/notes: cursing, mentions of drugging, mentions of kidnapping, slight manipulation, abuse, violence, and starvation

YOU never thought that you would end up as a canary. a pretty yellow bird with dark dull eyes as you sat in a cage, a trap.

it all started when you met him. the devil incarnate. erwin smith.

he was charismatic young man, sitting at the age of 35 as he held the title of a prosecutor in court. you find it ironic, he puts vile criminals into jail but overlooks himself, the most vile of them all.

he met you at a café. the coffee beans were grinding in the machine at the counter, you remember how you relished in the smell.

when he first caught sight of you, you were scribbling on notebook paper with a nice black ballpoint pen. the gold framing of the pen shined in the light as you twirled it between your fingers. you looked slightly frazzled, but also at ease; something erwin was not used to seeing. you had white earbuds with the slight appearance of brown on the cords in your ears, hooked up to a laptop that you would occasionally glance at.

erwin thought you were a beauty.

you remember how he sat across from you, smoothly initiating a conversation with you. he was delighted to find out that you were a pianist along with a violinist, he loves classical music. you explained to him that you were struggling to create a song for your performance the next week, that all the music notes were just starting to contort into doodles.

when he helped you, that's when you felt grateful. you remember how he mentioned his partner, levi ackerman, and his own enjoyment of the piano. he asked for your number along with the venue where you would be performing.

you gave him the information easily, seemingly ecstatic about someone coming to your performance.

the next week after your performance, you met levi. he was curt and blunt, his difference from erwin had almost given you whiplash. luckily, you learned to adapt and you even would quip back at him playfully. it managed to make him smile, just a little. you enjoyed his company just as much as you did erwin's, something the two of them were happy about.

it wasn't until weeks later of hanging around them that it all went downhill. you went drinking with the two of them, easily complying to levi's request to drink more and more of your alcoholic beverage. it was the last drink that had you realizing that no other drink you had ever had was salty like this. you collapsed shortly after.

you remember waking up in a room, decorated to accommodate you and your interests. there was a white bookshelf that had gold framing splayed onto it with a vast selection of novels. there were three soft and plush chairs by the bookshelf with a soft rug underneath. a small coffee table sat in the middle of the rug.

there was a large bay window with a gorgeous view of a colorful and bio-diverse garden. cushions and throw pillows were placed onto the windowsill, another place for you to sit. the bed you'd awoken in was a queen, heavy cotton sheets messily spread across the bed. around the the room and even on the ceiling were soft yellow lights disguised as vines. directly across from the bed was a vanity and above that hung a nice flat screen TV. the night stands beside your bed held lamps and small knick knacks that you could entertain yourself with.

there were three doors. one to the left of your bed, one to the right of your bed, and one to the right of your television. you found out later that the one by your television was a small bathroom with nothing but a toilet and sink. the door to your right side of the bed was a walk-in closet that was decorated in clothing you'd never be able to afford.

you remember how after that, levi and erwin barged in as you panicked and started to pace around the room. you remember defying them, cursing them, hitting them, kicking them, and even spitting at them.

with a silent look from levi, erwin's distraught face turned slightly sad. his eyes were misty as he shuffled himself outside of the room. when levi's knee came into contact with your face, you realized why. especially whenever the gushing of blood dripped out of your nose and his voice screamed that none of this was their fault, but your's instead.

but now, levi was once again punishing you. you hadn't meant to do it. you hadn't meant to slap erwin. while you had a panic attack, your muscles thrashed without your command and you ended up slapping erwin across his face. you were secretly satisfied when you saw the pained look he gave you, but it immediately turned to dread whenever levi's rough hands pulled at your hair.

he's kicking you once again, and he occasionally accompanies it with a harsh slap.

"i didn't mean to, i didn't mean to!!!" your sobs sound so broken as you land on your side from levi kicking you.

levi ignores you, forcing you to stare at erwin, who sits at the door of your bed with that same neutral look sprinkled with pain.

"please!!!" you plead as you squeeze your eyes shut, "please, i didn't mean to!! i didn't meant to hit him!!"

levi stops his assaults, staring at your cowering form from above. the collar around your neck connected with chains clang against each other as you wearily raise your head.

erwin and levi are expecting a small whimper of pleas, but instead they watch as you slam your head against the hardwood floor. it has you reeling but even so, you continue. you're slipping into another violent mental breakdown, head banging against the floor as your other hand punches at your hipbone continuously.

your teeth are gritted as you start banging your ankle against the ground.

within seconds, levi and erwin are moving you onto your bed and holding down your thrashing limbs. they're murmuring sweet nothings to you, a hand on your forehead holding your head down against the pillow. you sob out again, entering the stage of hyperventilation and wails. erwin is crying along with you while levi just reminds you to breathe.

levi's hands are pressing your's on his chest and over his heart. his heartbeat guides you into stable breathing. when you've calmed down, you enter the shutdown stage.

"there we go," erwin praises and strokes a thumb against your cheekbone, "back to breathing."

levi stares at his boyfriend, who’s muttering something in your ear, but turns his attention back to you whenever you let out a small grunt.

"she wants to watch a movie," erwin says, pressing kisses to your cheek.

"any movie in particular? if not, i'll put on scooby doo; i remember you saying that it comforted you once," he grumbles while he turns on the television.

you don't answer, unsurprisingly, and levi puts on 'what's new, scooby doo?' for you. levi lays back next to you, cuddling into your warm and unmoving body.

it takes two episodes of watching the show for you to start letting out small, yet forced, giggles at some parts of the show. it takes two more for you to be able to speak again.

"food," that's all you said.

erwin shakes his head and wags a finger, "how do you ask properly?"

"can i have some food, please," you sound so tired.

the two men nod and leave your room to get you a meal. you sit up quietly and look down to your hands. they always left your hands untouched, seemingly trying to protect them from the abuse that levi would put onto you.

"stupid, fucking stupid," you spat, "this is their fault, not mine. their fault, their fault, their fault."

you drill the words into your head, but are soon interrupted whenever erwin enters the room with a tray of food.

"you're even sitting up now," he acknowledges while he puts the tray on the bed in front of you.

you thank him quietly and try to ignore the large hand stroking your hair.

"i love you," he doesn't. you don't do this to those you love. zeke never did this to you.

erwin frowns at your silence, hand now tilting your face to look at him. instead of love, your eyes were filled to the brim with hatred.

"you'll come to love us soon enough," he has no ounce of emotion on his face as his finger softly rubs against your skin.

"i doubt it," you mumble and force your face out of his hand. you just want to eat.

when you look down at the tray, you notice the absence of forks and knives. it has your stomach dropping.

"i'm feeding you," erwin says, fork between his long fingers, "we can't trust you with knives just yet."

erwin stabs the fork into cut up chicken breast on your plate, holding it up to your chapped lips. you stare at the food, had it been drugged?

"i don't want to be fed."

"that's too bad. you're being fed anyway, we can't trust you with forks either just yet," he grabs ahold of your jaw and forces your head to turn towards him.

his thumb and index finger squeeze your cheeks, forcing your mouth open with ease. you jerk away at the food suddenly being forced down your throat, hacking as if you were trying to get it up.

"let me chew first," you cough, handing reaching to touch gently at your adam's apple.

erwin doesn’t respond, opting to put another piece of the food onto the fork. he holds it out towards you, patiently waiting for you to stop choking and to eat again. you clear your throat, the idea of willingly letting erwin feed you makes you sick. you don't want to submit.

"i won't eat anything if you don't let me use the fork myself," you feel a headache coming on, fingers now pressing against your temples.

"then i guess you just won't eat," he says with a hint of sadness, taking the tray back into his hands.

you're so hungry. and the smell of the grilled chicken breast with a side of mashed potatoes isn't helping. you don't want to submit. you can't submit, you won't survive.

"guess that's settled then," you flop back down onto your back.

it wasn't the answer or reaction that erwin was expecting, judging by his widened eyes and stiff posture. he relaxes as he shakes his head in disapproval, walking out of the room and locking the door behind him.

you stare blankly at the ceiling while trying to ignore the growling of your stomach. your head hurts from the lack of food, another thing you're trying to ignore.

you turn on your side, but immediately cry out in pain. levi's earlier assault was starting to form bruises on your body, and the idea that you couldn't even curl into a ball made you want to cry. you hiss when you shuffle back onto your back, ignoring the searing pain that shoots through your ribs and sides.

your eyelids feel heavy after you settle down for a while, finally able to ignore all of the pain you've endured.

————

when you wake up, it's raining. there's not much natural light coming into your room, which you're okay with.

a pang of pain shoots through your head when you sit up, hands immediately grabbing at your hair and nails digging into your scalp. the tugging of your hair made your headache a little more bearable even if it was for a second.

the sound of your stomach growling and chains clinking echos through the quiet room, causing you to look down at your stomach. the chains are cold against your skin, tiny shivers spreading across your stomach.

you sigh and get yourself out of the bed. you walk to your bathroom, peeing with your face buried in your hands on the toilet. you ignore the fluorescent lights, which make your head hurt worse, and wash your hands aggressively.

you look up in the mirror as you do so, but you wish you hadn't. your eyes were puffy from the tears you shed yesterday and there's now a bruise on your swollen cheek from levi's smacking. you hold back the urge to punch the mirror, instead wiping your hands off with a towel and chucking it at the wall. you slam the door behind you and start to walk pass the three chairs meant for you, erwin, and levi. a wave of dizziness has you stopping and holding onto it, eyes instinctively squeezing shut.

when it passes, you grab a book and a throw blanket that's sat on top of one of the chairs. you settle onto the cushions of the bay window, taking a moment to stare at the rain falling.

you open the book, 'perks of being a wallflower', and find yourself lost in the words.

it's when levi comes in with a tray of food that you realize an hour or so has passed. he looks shocked to see you sitting and reading in silence, checking his watch as if he were making sure he didn't wake up late.

"got you food since erwin had to go to work. it's belgium waffles with some fruit and bacon on the side," he sits down next to your, now, curled up legs and puts the tray on the opposite side of him.

you wince at the mention of food and at curling your legs close. it doesn't go unnoticed.

"maybe if you didn't act out you wouldn't be in so much pain now," he says, holding out a piece of the waffle and a hand under to make sure the syrup doesn't drip onto the blanket.

"i'm not going to be fed. i'm not a child," you stare at the food.

"you're going to starve to death if you don't eat. quit being stubborn and fucking eat. i don't feel like cleaning up a body," he snarls and you resist the urge to kick his hand away.

"if you let me feed myself, i'll eat. then, you won't have to worry about digging me a hole."

"you haven't earned that privilege. we feed you for now."

"then i guess i don't eat," your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare at him.

"you're stupid. you'll end up dying."

"rather die than be fed like a child."

"you've got some pride. maybe i can beat it out of you," he drops the fork onto the plate.

"if you beat me anymore then you might actually have to worry about a body," you avert your eyes back to your book.

"if it's what needs to be done," he crosses his arms, "speaking of bodies, your's reeks."

"i don't have a shower in my bathroom, i can't help you with that issue," you shrug and flip the page.

"you can."

"i'm not letting you bathe me either. i'm not stupid. if you're feeding me then you're obviously going to be bathing me."

he chuckles a little at your defiance, but you know it's forced. you can smell the frustration on his body and your ego inflates knowing that you're the one who got him to be like that.

"when you decide you want to live, knock at the door and call for me," he grabs the tray and leaves the room, once again locking the door behind him.

"i can wait eight more days before i die."

[hxneyandespressx]

sweet tea in the summer

summary: little blurbs of jj and elle being in a relationship

pairing: jennifer jareau x elle greenaway (jelle)

word count: 1.8k

☆。*。☆。

lemon tea: mornings

Usually, Elle and JJ were up in the early hours of dawn, getting ready to head for work. The two of them don’t slow down as they just want to get out of their shared apartment. On the weekends, however, these two liked to take their time, savoring the calmness. Sometimes they rolled around in bed as Elle peppered butterfly kisses on JJ’s nose and cheeks. Sometimes, JJ woke up before Elle and made coffee for both of them. Two creams and two sugars, just how Elle liked it. And they spent their time in bed, sipping on their coffee and have sleepy conversations.

peppermint tea: ice skating

During one of their visits to New York, Elle and JJ were ice skating at Bryant Park in the crisp December air. Neither of them were experts at it, so a few tumbles onto the ice were granted. JJ held onto Elle’s arm tightly, as she was scared to fall down. After a while, JJ was able to balance and slowly skate alongside Elle. The two of them went skating around the rink, bypassing the other couples. At one point, Elle slowly brought JJ close to her and placed a chaste kiss on her chapped lips. After their time ice skating, Elle and JJ went to go get hot chocolate at the nearest kiosk and walked around the park before heading back to their hotel.

chamomile tea: bedtime

Either of them doesn’t have a set sleep schedule. They sleep when they can. But during the rare times when they get home early, Elle and JJ liked to take their time doing their nightly routine. JJ made some chamomile tea for the both of them while Elle fed their pet cat. They both drank their tea and talked on the balcony, letting the tea calm their body and mind. Slowly, they yawned and put their mugs away in the sink. JJ flopped onto the bed as Elle grabbed the blanket to cover the both of them. JJ cuddled into Elle’s arms and the two women fell fast asleep, catching dreams of moving to India forever.

earl grey tea: flirting

Elle was known to be the flirt in the relationship and JJ loved it whenever Elle flirts with her and makes her blush, even though the blonde wouldn’t admit to it. One day, JJ wanted Elle to get a taste of her own medicine. When both Elle and JJ working from home on a Friday, the blonde mustered up all her courage to at least try out her pick-up line. JJ called out Elle’s name and the brunette looked at her girlfriend. JJ said her cheesy pickup line and Elle laughed, but not at her girlfriend. It was at the pickup line. JJ pouted and slumped in defeat. Elle smiled happily and quickly pecked her sad girlfriend’s lips.

milk tea: hugs and kisses

Elle snuck up on JJ as the blonde was cooking breakfast. The brunette tickled JJ’s side as the shorter woman laughs hard, trying not to burn herself from the oil. Wanting the ticking to be stopped, JJ shooed away Elle, but her sneaky girlfriend couldn't keep her hands off of her. Elle gently wrapped her arms JJ’s waist as the blonde was curious as to what the brunette was going to do next. Elle placed two kisses on JJ’s cheeks. Then her forehead. Her nose. Finally, her lips. JJ deepened the kiss between herself and Elle. It was like it was only them and nothing else matter. That was until Elle smelled burning eggs and JJ furiously tried to salvage them.

iced tea: moonlight

Stars twinkled across the night sky as Elle and JJ took sips of their red wine. They were having a date night in and decided to finish off the night at the balcony. The moon shined bright, almost like a spotlight on Elle. JJ took in the sight that was next to her. The blonde was lost in her thoughts until Elle called out for her. Once being back to reality, JJ blushed in embarrassment and looked away. Elle tried her best to comfort her girlfriend, hoping that they could continue their quiet night while watching the moon.

black tea: baking

JJ and Elle were baking cookies for a Christmas cookie party. They were having fun until Elle threw some flour at JJ’s face. JJ stood in shock as Elle smirked, feeling proud of herself. That was until JJ scooped up some flour with both her hands and dropped it on top of Elle’s head. This started a food war between the two women, who were also wasting a lot of baking ingredients that were necessary for the Christmas cookies. JJ realized this in the midst of this food fight and had to stop Elle from throwing some sprinkles at her. The two women laughed to their hearts’ content and started to clean up themselves and the kitchen, hoping to salvage something for the rest of the Christmas cookies to be made.

pomegranate tea: fireworks

It was the Fourth of July and both Elle and JJ made plans to watch the city’s firework display. Packing up a small picnic for dinner, JJ hummed as she was making sandwiches. Once finished, JJ called out for her girlfriend to head out and seek the best spot. Elle appeared in time and the pair went their way to the nearest park. Elle set the blanket while JJ took out the food she made earlier. They quickly ate their sandwiches and guzzled some ginger ale. JJ quickly cleaned up their area in time for the firework show. The blonde cuddled up to Elle’s chest as the two women watched the sky is filled with many colors. They enjoyed their time watching the fireworks display. When it was over, Elle and JJ went on their way home, but not without having some ice cream to end the night.

matcha tea: drunken conversations

Elle and JJ were giggling loudly at a bar in their city. JJ took her last sip of her beer as Elle fumbled to try and find her wallet. Once the tab has been paid, Elle hooked her right arm with JJ’s left and the drunken pair slowly waddled out of the bar. Since the apartment wasn't too far, it wasn’t necessary to hail a cab. JJ shushed Elle as they entered their apartment building and was greeted by their stoic doorman. Their giggles got muted as the elevator door closed, JJ closing the gap between her and Elle.

chai tea: holding hands

JJ played with their hands as they were laying in bed late at night. Elle intertwined the fingers and softly placed a kiss on each knuckle on JJ’s hand. The blonde snuggled into Elle’s side and slowly closed her eyes. Elle watched her girlfriend, whose sound asleep, for a few minutes. She took in the beautiful sight in front of her. Gently pushing her blonde locks away from her face, Elle placed a kiss on JJ’s forehead and prepared herself to sleep. The brunette closed her eyes for the night as she continued to have her fingers intertwined with JJ’s.

hibiscus tea: road trips

Music played loudly as a car zoomed along the interstate. Elle and JJ had taken a month off to do a little road-tripping. JJ held her hand out of the window to feel the rush of the cold wind. Sometimes Elle would take little glances at her girlfriend to remind herself of the beautiful memories they will make. The blonde reeled her arm back in and started to search for the snack bag for one thing. When she couldn’t find it, she asked Elle, who in turn didn’t know. That started a very silly argument about where the Cheetos bag went. Soon enough, JJ found the bag of Cheetos right behind her passenger seat. She sheepishly smiled as she opened the bag, Elle laughing beside her.

green tea: bonfire

Elle poked at the small bonfire to get the fire going as JJ prepared ingredients for s’mores. The brunette sat down by her girlfriend, wrapping herself and JJ with a large plaid blanket. JJ handed a marshmallow on a stick to Elle and started to roast her own marshmallow. The crackling of the fire provided warmth as the brisk November wind passed by. Once the marshmallows were ready, both Elle and JJ constructed their s’mores as quickly as possible before the marshmallow would fall onto the ground. Giggles were heard as a smear of chocolate appeared on Elle’s upper lip. JJ took this opportunity to lick it off and laugh at Elle’s shocked expression.

russian caravan tea: music

Soft indie music played into the night as Elle and JJ danced slowly across the cold kitchen tiles. It was one of those nights where either of them couldn’t sleep. JJ had her head in the crook of Elle’s neck as the brunette had her arms wrapped around JJ’s waist. They let the music serenade them as they circled around the kitchen. Wanting to check up on JJ, Elle looked down and saw that JJ had closed her eyes. Elle gently waddled her way to turn off the music while trying not to wake up JJ. She picked up JJ in bridal style and walked over to their bedroom, gently putting JJ down on the comforter. Elle scooted up next to her and cuddled her in her arms, falling asleep to JJ's gentle heartbeat.

english breakfast tea: beaches

Elle and JJ held hands as they walked along the beach. The waves gently touched their feet from time to time. Something sparkling caught JJ’s eye and the blonde took the time to pick it up. To her discovery, it was a half piece of a seashell lined with nacre. Elle complained that she didn’t want to take home a smelly seashell but JJ wanted it. JJ was able to convince Elle into taking it home by her charming looks that Elle can’t resist. A smirk appeared on Elle’s face as she thought of a mischievous idea. Elle dragged JJ into the ocean up to their knees. JJ shrieked due to the cold salty water and proceed to scold her girlfriend for ruining her dress.

rooibos tea: anniversary

Both Elle and JJ would rather have a lowkey day for celebrating their one-year anniversary. Neither of them expects any gifts, as they do not want any expectations presiding in their relationship. They would have breakfast in bed together and reminisce their memories over the past year. Afterward, they would get ready for a hike at Shenandoah National Park. Depending on their mood, they pick a trail that could either be easy or more difficult, so they can challenge themselves. But once they reach the top, Elle and JJ take in the view of the sun slowly setting down over the trees and hills. Elle would grab JJ’s hand and take a look at her beautiful girlfriend, how the sunset rays filter her already beautiful face. They tell each other happy anniversary as they sit on the craggy boulders, watching the sunset over the horizon and the moon rise up into the twilight sky.

taglist: @homosexualyearning / @ssajelle / @iconicc / @sunlightgalaxy / @pumpkin-stars / @lgbtbau / @hotchgans / @abbyprentiss / @pen3mily / @morcias / @hotchsbabygirl / @gravelyhumerus / @notsosmexy / @cherrychris / @hqtchner / @girlbossjareau / @a-writers-ramblings

[fanfic-me-up]

Unwithering | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (1)

Part Two

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Prompt: Flower shop AU, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Warnings: Mild Swearing. Flowery language (pun intended 😉... I’ll show myself out)

Word Count: 2,250

Taglist: Reply to this post if you want to be added for future chapters!

A/N: This is for @bnhabookclub​ event going on! Thank you for giving new writers in the fandom, like me, a place to promote their work. Shout out to @smolmilkyways​ for letting me use this beautiful piece of fanart above! Go check them out! Also, thanks @gallickingun​ for letting me tag you in my first fic. You gave me some pretty solid advice that pushed me to get this out here. This was originally a one-shot, but of course it turned into a multi-chap, so stay tuned for more! 

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your fists gripped the hem of your dress. The sunflowers on it reminded you of him; a burning sun at the center of your universe. The boy in front of you crinkled his forehead at your statement; as if the love you spent years building up the courage to confess was no more than a pebble - insignificant - that he could kick to the side without a second thought.

Midoriya gave you a slight thumbs up from the back, but the rest of the boys cackled with no remorse. 

“You hear that, Bakugou? She looovvveesss you!”

“Freaky flower girl and Bakugou sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

“Awww is she gonna cry?”

The lump in your throat was difficult to swallow, but you refused to prove them right. It would only add fuel to the fire threatening to burn the seed planted in your heart.

He stepped toward you. The scent of burnt sugar filled your lungs; like fresh apples picked from your mother’s garden, dipped in melted caramel. You heard it’s a side effect from his quirk, but it was the first time you were close enough to experience it for yourself. 

You willed your eyes to find his. The soft breeze blowing past provided a cooling relief to the intense heat felt in your cheeks. When your eyes locked, a spark flashed within his own. You couldn’t catch it in time, but your heart stuttered in response.

 Any chance of a flower blooming died the next moment.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

A year passed before you saw Katsuki Bakugou again.

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“Here’s your pickup order, Tanaka-san, I’m sure your wife will love them!” 

You ring up the older gentleman who’s been a regular at your mother’s flower shop for years. His wife loves the smell of scented geranium, a sweet apricot that never fails to remind her of the orchards back home. He’s convinced your flowers are the reason she’s still here; the true medicine to her illness.

You always deny this statement, shaking your head with a playful giggle, but the compliment warms you. It’s nice to hear people cared about your flowers.

“She loves only the ones made by you, dearest.”

He winks as his shaking hands grab the large bouquet. You smile and turn your hand, palm up, towards Tanaka whose eyes never fail to widen in awe at your quirk in action. A small stem sprouts from the center of your palm, growing taller by the second. You hone in on the bright yellow dot on the center of each petal. A wash of white forms around each dot, acting as a transition for the violet that envelops the rest of the petals.

Each petal opens up one by one to reveal a golden bud. 

You hand the flower to Tanaka.

“On the house,” you wink back. 

“Oh very nice, very nice, indeed,” he bows in thanks, “What is the meaning of this one?”

“Irises give hope. In Chinese tradition, it is referred to as ‘the purple butterfly’ because its petals flutter like butterflies.” 

The breeze from outside trails in at the perfect time and the petals flutter about.

“Very pretty,” Tanaka remarks, “I’ll be sure to let the misses know about this one!”

He thanks you one more time before walking out with a newfound spring in his step; the lone flower nestled in the pocket of his worn out janitor uniform. 

You’ve been working at Paradise Blooms for the past three years after your parents separated, and your mom needed the extra hand more than ever. It was difficult balancing school and work, especially when you were busy prepping for U.A. exams last year, but you could never say no to your mom. She’s been the constant in your life since day one.

The back door to the supply room squeaks.

“A little help here?” 

All you see is the top of your mom’s head, adorned with a multi-colored flower crown. Her face is covered by the high pile of crates she’s trying not to drop. You rush to catch the top crate before it tumbles.

“Phew. That was a close one. Thanks, honey!” 

She bends down to take the supplies out, arranging the items on the counters around the shop. She weaves through the aisles - it looks more like a garden than an actual shop, in your opinion, but you think it gives the place character. She stops at the row of potted flowers sitting on the far right of the shop, soaking in the sunlight cast through the window. It’s the new collection your mom got in time for the 2020 Garden Glow Event. Every year, flower shops all over the city participated in an annual gardening event to educate the public on gardening techniques with fun activities for the children. Your mom spent hours on the phone dealing with difficult vendors to get this specific collection for the event. Water sprinkles out from her palm as she takes the time to water each and every flower.

Since there’s no customers at the moment, you grab the broom from the storeroom and set to sweeping around the shop. It’s not long before your mom’s watering routine is interrupted by her phone ringing.

“Hello?” You continue sweeping, gently humming along to the tune playing through the speakers, but your voice catches when you hear, “Mitsuki! Hi! How are you?” 

Mitsuki? Your mom couldn’t possibly be talking to Mitsuki... Bakugou? 

Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the life out of the poor broom as you wait for confirmation. 

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The memories you tried so hard to forget come flooding all at once.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You’re snapped out of the memory.

“Yes, bring him in! Great! See you in a few, bye.” 

Your mother returns to watering the flowers like nothing happened - like that single phone call didn’t just turn your world upside down, after you spent the last year flipping it right side up.

“Who was that?” 

You’re afraid of the answer. 

You promised yourself you moved on from Katsuki Bakugou. It proved to be easier said than done. Even if you both went to separate high schools and most of your days were spent either studying or working; at night is when your thoughts strayed. You wondered what he was up to… was he passing all his classes? You’d giggle at the absurdity of Katsuki not being number one. Was he still bullying Midoriya? Did you ever cross his mind?

Was he happy?

Because more than anything, you wished him happiness - even if that happiness was not with you. Was that weakness? Was wishing for someone’s happiness, who could care less about you, considered weakness? 

“Hm?” Your mom turns to you, “Oh! That was Mitsuki Bakugou. Her son, Katsuki - I believe you went to school with him? Well, he needs a part-time job to help pay for tuition. Can you believe he got into U.A.? Mitsuki must be so proud of him.”

“I figured you’d be happy,” she continues, " I know you’ve been struggling with balancing school and work, so I thought having another person around would help lighten the load a little bit. Besides, I owed Mitsuki a favor.”

Your mother blushes at the last part.

Favor? What favor?

But that’s the last thing on your mind when you suddenly feel the need to pass out.

Katsuki… is… working… here? 

“Honey, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I - I’m not sure I can…” you trail off. Your mom didn’t know about your confession to Katsuki. When you came home in tears that day, with your dress all wrinkled, you told her it was because kids were bullying you for trying and failing to get into U.A. 

It was the half-truth. 

“Y/N, did something happen between you and Katsuki? I can call Mitsuki back right now if you don’t feel comfortable with him around.” 

It was as easy as breathing or using your quirk, second nature, all you had to do was utter a two letter word and your mom would immediately have Mitsuki on the line, apologizing for the inconvenience, but making sure to recommend a few places in the area who were hiring. A simple “no” and your world would become right side up again, the boy you loved long forgotten during the day and only remembered at night when there’s nothing to consume your mind, but him. 

Taking the easy way called out to you, beckoning you to relinquish your strength, and give in. But if you couldn’t face one boy, then maybe Katsuki was right. Maybe you were weak. 

“I’m fine, mom, I can work with him,” you say.

Pounding footsteps against the pavement outside cut your mom off from her next words.

“OI! LET ME GO, OLD WOMAN, I’LL KILL YOU!” 

“CALL ME THAT ONE MORE TIME AND SEE WHERE IT GETS YOU!” 

Your breath hitches at the sound. You haven’t heard that voice in over a year; it’s gotten deeper, raspier in tone. You take a few breaths in and out to calm yourself so you don’t melt into the floor at first glance.

The door swings open - the “We’re Open” sign rattles dangerously against the glass -  and in barges Mitsuki Bakugou, dragging her son by the ear.

Katsuki struggles to get out of his mother’s grasp, his arms stretch toward the door, but Mitsuki pulls him all the way inside.

“I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF TRAINING, WOMAN!”

“AND NOW YOU’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF GETTING A JOB!”

“I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT!”

“YOU’LL MAKE TIME!”

Katsuki growls. His palms curving into themselves like he’s trying to reign in his quirk from exploding Paradise Blooms where it stands.

You and your mom look at each other, unsure how to inject yourselves in the rather awkward exchange. Truthfully, you’re not surprised by the interaction; you’ve seen Katsuki and his family at school events in the past. The Bakugous had an… interesting family dynamic. 

Mitsuki notices the both of you watching and immediately releases Katsuki. She smiles and greets your mom with a hug as if the previous interaction never happened.

“Y/Mom’s/N, it’s great to see you! How’s the event planning coming along?”

Your mom and Mitsuki engage in small talk for a couple minutes leaving you to sneak a quick glance over at Katsuki leaning against the door. He’s looking out the window with a scowl on his face. He crosses his arms to stop himself from fisting his palms, a sign you picked up on when he’s itching to get on the field and obliterate. 

You find yourself thinking how beautiful and destructive at the same time.

Once Mitsuki and your mom finish catching up, she directs her attention towards you. 

“And you must be Y/N?  Your mother has told me so much about you!”

You catch the flash of recognition in Katsuki’s eyes, but you’re wrapped in a hug before you can think. The hug is a bit awkward with the counter digging into your side, but the warmth radiating off Mitsuki makes you feel at home. She lets go of you and turns around to where Katsuki is still standing by the door, ready to leave the first chance he gets.

“And this is my son, Katsuki,” she beckons him over, but when he doesn’t move she barks, “Don’t be rude! Get over here and introduce yourself.” 

Katsuki grumbles under his breath, but trudges over. 

“Sup.”

Mitsuki growls and slaps Katsuki over the head, “Oi! Where are your manners!?” 

She glances apologetically, “I’m sorry. He’s… a bit much to handle. I really appreciate you agreeing to hire him. He’s had trouble in the past with defying authority.”

Katsuki scowls at the ground when Mitsuki pats his head affectionately this time. 

“But he’s a good kid at heart, a little rough around the edges, but overall a good kid. I hope you’re able to see that and work with him.” 

She bows; her hand on Katsuki’s head nudges him to do the same. His nose twitches, but he listens this time.

Your mother is an empathetic person, able to walk all paths of life and notice the beauty in each one. It wasn’t like her to turn someone down in need. 

Your mom smiles, “I’m happy to work with Katsuki. What about you, Y/N?”

She’s giving you a way out for the last time. 

Mitsuki looks at you, hope in her eyes.

Doubt laid out its hand for you to take; to lead you away from the pain that still ate away at you everyday. The teasing. The pointing. The rejection from U.A. and from Katsuki. Working with him would force you to face the pain head on.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You lock eyes with Katsuki for the first time since that day many moons ago; he’s awaiting your answer, a twinge of hope laced in his eyes overshadowed by a grimace. 

You wonder if you now hold the fuel to the fire threatening to burn the tiny seed of hope he’s trying so hard to bury.

For better or for worse, you were also a person who found beauty in all paths of life.

“Welcome aboard,” you say.

[omgrachwrites]

Still in Love with You - Sirius Black

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Request:  ‘Heyya could I request a slytherin reader x sirius black where they get married after hogwarts but then the potters die and he goes away to azkaban and angst but then they reunite in an order meeting and fluff in the end? Sorry if this is to much lol. 💚’ @slytherpuffbitch​

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of death

Words: 1419

A/N: Thanks for the request love, I hope this is okay and I hope that everyone enjoys it! And I know that the order wasn’t formed again this soon but for the purpose of this story I’ve changed it up a bit! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think, also please let me know if you want to be added to my Marauders taglist, I love you all! xxx

The very best day of your life and the very worst day of your life occurred within a mere six months of each other. The best day of your life was when you and your soulmate were wed in that beautiful springtime garden, – neither of you wanted a church wedding – beneath the cherry blossom tree. Sirius had looked even more beautiful that day with sparkling grey eyes and the pink blossom petals that had fallen into his long ebony hair.

When his warm hand cupped your jaw and his lips met yours, you knew that this was it; you and Sirius would be together forever. Nothing and no one would ever come between you. If someone had told you when you first started at school that one day you would be married to Sirius Black and you were going to be friends with a load of Gryffindors you would have hexed them for merely mentioning it. But, here you were in front of all your friends, promising to love Sirius for the rest of your life and you couldn’t be happier. The wedding party was held beneath a marquee in a meadow full of flowers and it really was beautiful to be there with all your family, your friends and your godson Harry.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered in your ear that night as he held you beneath the velvet night sky that had been sprinkled with stars.

You smiled as you gazed up at him adoringly and you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, “I love you too Sirius, did you ever think we’d be here?”

Sirius grinned as he rested his forehead against yours, “of course I did, from the minute I fell in love with you, I told James that you were the girl that I was going to marry. At first he wasn’t so keen because you were a Slytherin,” he joked, “but they love you, James and Lily, they really do and so do I.”

Six mere months later, the worst day of your life started with a blazing argument between you and your husband, and it finished with your best friends being murdered and the love of your life had been arrested for the crimes of mass murder and betrayal. Though the evidence was damning you refused to believe that Sirius murdered so many people and betrayed James and Lily. Something inside of you told you that he was innocent.

For the next couple of years you stayed in your job with the British Ministry of Magic but eventually you transferred to America. You had to get away from England and make a brand new start. Years passed by, years when you thought of nothing but Sirius and then that fateful day arrived when Sirius escaped from Azkaban. Hope and happiness bubbled in your chest; all you wanted to do was run home to your husband to show him that you still loved him. But you couldn’t go home, you were too scared, thirteen long years would have taken their toll and there was no way that Sirius was still the same person. You missed Remus but he came to visit you often.

Months later you received an owl from Remus, ‘Dear Y/N, Sirius is innocent – I’m sure you always believed that – it was Peter, Peter all along. He faked his death and betrayed James and Lily, and pinned it on Sirius. Join the Order and come home, we all miss you. Love, Remus.’

At first you were furious at Peter for ruining your marriage and a future with a man you loved more than anything. Then, the relief set in, here was confirmation that you had been right, Sirius was innocent. Tears pricked at your eyes as you clutched the letter to your heart and you hurried to reply to Remus.

‘Dear Remus, you’re right, I did know that he was innocent but it’s nice to have the confirmation. I’ll join the order, of course I will but I can’t come home, Remus you know I can’t. Love from Y/N.’

For a while you could serve the Order quite easily back in America, until today. Today you were going to be attending an Order meeting at Grimmauld Place and to say that you were nervous was an understatement. You smiled as you stepped out of the fireplace and into the kitchen, dusting yourself off.

“Good eve-“you trailed off when you locked eyes with Sirius and the breath was stolen from your throat and your heart began to ache.

He was still so handsome, how was that possible after all those years in Azkaban? His hair was a little longer and his cheekbones were more prominent. Those grey eyes that you loved so much were still so beautiful but they had a haunted look to them now and it broke your heart. His eyes should be so full of happiness. A look of surprise dawned on his face and you forced yourself to say something.

“Sirius,” you breathed.

He didn’t answer you; he just lifted a bottle to his lips as he looked away from you with a pained expression.

“Let’s get started shall we?” Remus spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

During the meeting, you hardly heard what Remus or McGonagall was saying, all your focus was on the beautiful man sitting opposite you, the man you still loved, you had to explain yourself. As soon as the meeting was over, Sirius left the room and your heart jumped into your throat as you ran after Sirius and into the hall.

“Sirius, please wait!”

He must have heard the desperation in your voice because he turned to look at you with a sigh and he gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Y/N, it’s good to see you.”

He was speaking to you so formally that it broke your heart, “I’m sorry that I didn’t come home before now, I just couldn’t,” you finished lamely as you fiddled with your wedding ring that you swore around your neck.

Sirius let out a humourless bark of laughter as his pained eyes looked at you, “why did you stay away? Did you think I was guilty?”

Tears sprang to your eyes as you heard the hurt in his voice, “no of course not,” you sniffled as your eyes found the floor. You felt gentle fingers against your jaw and Sirius tilted your face up so you could look at him, grey eyes sweeping over you in concern, “I was scared,” you whispered, finally admitting your truth, “I was terrified that you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

Sirius’ eyes softened, “oh sweetheart. I have loved you since 5th year, since the moment you told me off for interrupting your study session,” he chuckled, “I love you now like I loved you then, and in fact I love you more. The thought of you kept me going in Azkaban,” he shuddered, “I still love you. How could you think that I didn’t love you anymore?”

Your eyes widened at his confession, he still loved you? “The last conversation we had was an argument and then I lost you, I lost you without telling you that I loved you. I was scared that you’d be holding it against me.”

Sirius gave you a genuine smile as he cupped your cheek, “I can hardly remember what that argument was about. All that I know is that I still love you.”

You smiled as your thumb rubbed against his bottom lip, he looked older but in his eyes you could see the old Sirius begin to emerge, “I’m so sorry Sirius, for everything, for not believing in us, for James and Lily and for the fact that you were in that dreadful place for so long.”

Sirius grinned as he shook his head and he rested his forehead against yours, “we can talk about all that later,” he promised, “Y/N, do you still love me?” he asked almost shyly.

You gripped the front of his shirt, feeling the soft material between your fingers, you captured his lips with yours, his lips were different now, they were slightly chapped but they were still warm. Sirius smiled against your lips as he kissed you back, cupping your cheeks. After a few minutes you pulled away from each other slightly breathless.

“Yes, I still love you.”

Sirius beamed at you so beautifully that you could have cried, “we’ll be a family again Y/N, I promise. I love you so much.”

--------------------------------

Marauders taglist: @slytherpuffbitch​ @kashishwrites​ @siriusblackspam​ @smiithys​

[chaos-burst]

#29 for beauyasha or any ship with molly you like

29. Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force.

Essek has never kissed anyone. 

The problem with being a prodigy is that you develop certain expectations of yourself and it becomes near impossible to try something new in front of another person that you might not immediately excel at. 

That is the inherent flaw with kissing. 

Another person is, by kissing’s nature, very present. Not only present, but involved. Kissing someone without knowing if you’re going to be good at it sounds like a terrible ordeal. 

There is no way he can try kissing by himself. Not that he’s particular interested in kissing just for the kisses’ sake. But there might be a particular person who makes Essek’s potential disastrous kissing skills a nuisance. 

When Mollymauk Tealeaf waltzed into his life with the rest of the Mighty Nein Essek was straight up offended by him. But as it turned out, there are many fascinating qualities about Mollymauk that Essek finds endlessly captivating and even impressive. 

While he carefully builds his image and upholds his reputation where ever he goes, Mollymauk simply doesn’t care what people think of him. He is just himself, unapologetically and oftentimes obnoxiously so. Essek isn’t even sure who he really is under all the pretense and the lies. 

Mollymauk also doesn’t care for the future in any capacity. While Essek despises his culture’s obsession with being reborn, Mollymauk lives every day as if it might be his last. No regrets. No holding out for a future that might never come. Essek wishes he could live like this. 

He watched Mollymauk for too long. Now he cannot look anywhere else. 

Sometimes Essek wonders if Mollymauk finds him endlessly dull. But then Mollymauk sits down next to him, calls him “mage boy”, bumps Essek’s shoulder with his, winks at him, lays out tarot cards for him and calls him “too pretty and smart for his own good”. 

Essek files it all away and by now it has surmounted to an incredibly big part of his brain that is only occupied with Mollymauk Tealeaf. And kissing Mollymauk Tealeaf. 

Maybe that is due to the fact that Mollymauk talks about things like kissing and sex a lot without considering that not everyone around him is so open about things like this. 

Mollymauk has kissed so many people. He’s probably very good at it--a fact that Essek also files away and that makes his cheeks darken and his pulse speed up when he thinks about it for too long. 

At some point, when he arrives at the “Xhorhouse”, as it has been called, Jester shouts up the stairs: “Molly, your boyfriend is here!”

Essek is very tempted to teleport away right there and then. But he keeps his face neutral, ignores his hammering heart and leaves his floating spell at the door as he steps into the house that is, by now, so familiar to him. 

“Hey Essek, how are you doing?”, Jester asks with a friendly smile as if she didn’t just grab Essek’s insides and twisted them into an anxious knot. 

“I am doing alright, thank you. I hope everything is going well?”

“Sure! We’re off to do some super secret crazy shit and Molly has to stay home because he might be in danger if he comes or something, Beau explained it all but I didn’t listen all the way to the end. Anyway, there are cupcakes in the kitchen and there’s water in the hot tub if you want to take a bath or. You know.”

Jester grins at Essek and winks multiple times in a row. Essek clears his throat. 

“So, should I stay here in case Mollymauk gets into trouble?”, he asks and regrets it immediately because Jester’s face lights up with a mischievous energy he’s come to know in these past few months.  

“Yes, please keep Molly safe for us, Essek. Be his bodyguard. Don’t let him out of your sight!”

“Not like he ever does”, a blunt voice comes from their left and Beau stands there with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. 

“I am certain I don’t know what you’re implying”, he says stiffly. Beau snorts.

“Sure you don’t. Ok, Jes, you ready to go or what?”

Essek watches them go and takes a deep breath as the door closes behind them. He’s unsure what to do. Maybe he should just go again. But Jester said Mollymauk might be in danger. 

He can only assume that it has something to do with the group looking into this moving city in the astral plane and Lady Vess Derogna. 

“Do you want cupcakes? Jester left about twenty in the kitchen.”

Mollymauk’s voice rips Essek out of his thoughts and for a second he forgets that he already discarded his floating spell so he does a very awkward little sidestep and a hand gesture that amounts to nothing. 

Truly, he is a prodigy at interacting with others, there is no doubt about it. 

“I don’t think I ever had a cupcake. Is it a cake in a cup?”

Mollymauk looks delighted and Essek’s stomach does some very impressive gymnastic figures he didn’t know were possible. 

“You are delightful in your ignorance. Come on, let’s get some cupcakes into that pretty mouth.”

Pretty mouth. 

Essek stands in the hallway for a good fifteen seconds before his brain has rebooted itself and he is able to follow Mollymauk into the kitchen. It turns out that cupcakes are not cakes in cups, although Essek isn’t sure why they are called like that. 

Mollymauk says it’s because they’re small. Essek says that there are big cups. Mollymauk laughs at him for a good minute before holding out a cupcake with pink frosting and colorful sprinkles on top for Essek to bite into. 

Essek stares at it, then at Mollymauk’s hand, then at Mollymauk’s face. 

“Try it”, Mollymauk urges. 

“Can I... hold it myself while I try it?”, he asks and hopes that his cheeks haven’t turned a darker shade of purple. Mollymauk grins and shows off his fangs and Essek swallows. 

“No. I can’t trust you to hold this cupcake. Take a bite, don’t be a spoilsport.”

Essek takes a bite and it’s ridiculously sweet. It tastes similar to what Jester’s voice sounds like when she messages him in the middle of the night asking if he’s read any good “smutty books” lately that he can recommend to her. 

Mollymauk puts the cupcake down on the table and before Essek can react there is a finger right in his face and Mollymauk’s thumb brushes away some pink frosting from his upper lip. Essek doesn’t know what to do as he watches Mollymauk licking his thumb without breaking eye contact. 

He’s not prone to swearing but right now he feels like, for the first time, he really understands Beauregards need to say “Fuck” very loudly. Mollymauk’s eyes drop down to look at Essek’s lips and he wonders if he still has some frosting somewhere in the corner of his mouth. 

Shadowhand of the Bright Queen, spy, double agent, magical prodigy, genius, traitor, war criminal, all this means nothing right now, in this untidy kitchen with a half-eaten, pink cupcake on the table and Mollymauk staring at Essek’s lips like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. 

Essek can’t help but look at Mollymauk’s lips, too. 

He never wanted to kiss anyone before, but he desperately wants to kiss Mollymauk Tealeaf. 

For a second Essek wonders if there’s magic involved as his body moves forward as if it is pulled by invisible strings. Mollymauk, like a magnet, reacts just in kind and Essek has barely any brain capacity left to be concerned about his lack of kissing practice when a pair of slightly chapped, warm lips brush against his. 

He probably tastes like pink frosting. 

Mollymauk’s hand sneaks to the back of his neck and Essek can’t do much aside from following Mollymauk’s lead. It’s probably clumsy and not at all skillful but Mollymauk makes a contented sound and sighs against Essek’s lips and all he wants is to be closer and have more of that. 

He doesn’t know for how long they kiss but when they pull away Mollymauk licks his lips and his cheeks are a way darker purple than the rest of his face. 

“Been waiting to do that for ages”, he rasps and Essek’s heart does big leap against his ribcage. 

“I never did this before”, he admits and feels very exposed for saying it. 

“Do you want to do it again?”, Mollymauk asks. 

Essek finds himself nodding. 

“Although it is very... disconcerting to do something I am not yet very good at.”

Molly grins and there’s something reckless about it. 

“Oh, you know what they say. Practice makes perfect.”

[wonnoy]

life long besties (?)

the last part for haters to lovers with kageyama ! you can read part 1 and 2 for it to make better sense.

but, part 3 is going to be more spicy so if this is what you're here for lol

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warnings: very light spice. like a bb sprinkle.

1 | 2 | 3

You were fighting again, what a big surprise. Hinata had long since stopped trying to get you guys to like each other, making the ridiculous claim every time you guys fight 'just admit you love each other'.

As if.

Your feelings for him, obviously hatred, had only been growing for these past years.

"You're clearly going senile," he said in a snide voice reeling you back into reality with a glare, "zoning out of the blue."

You pushed back away from him, moving further away from on the sidewalk. You two started fighting again, but this time outside and the both of you alone in the middle of the night. Hinata had long since jogged ahead, no wanting to hear you two bicker with him being the middle. You understood, it had to have been tiring when it's all you ever hear.

"Sorry," you looked at him from the corner of your eye, "I don't associate myself with anyone who has virgin lips," you finished. You smiled widely seeing the nickname take its desired effect on him. His shoulder bunching up and his death eyes staring right back at you.

He snuffed at you, "how do you know if I have virgin lips,"

"Because you have too big of an ego to kiss anyone on your own unless they begged to be kissed first," you answered immediately. You could see him huff next to you, crossing his arms roughly, "and you're ugly."

"I know I'm not ugly," he responded.

You scoffed at him, "your mom tell you that?"

Kageyama, though flustered, managed to call you a dumbass under his breath. You looked in front of you again, the sidewalk looked to be infinite with the way the darkness hugged everything. You slid your face deeper into the scarf around your neck, it was colder out tonight.

"Are you cold?" you looked over at him, his hands were stuffed into his pockets and he wasn't looking at you.

"Yea," you nodded and look forward again. Your jacket was not doing much against the cold.

"Should've worn thicker clothing then dumbass," he snickered next to you.

You turned your face up at him, "you act like such a child, you're 27. You don't look like you're much better off," you could hear him curse you under his breath again.

"I'm a volleyball player, I've been conditioned for temperature like this, you're the dumbass here," he replied. You looked down at the ground.

"Whatever you say virgin lips," you muttered. He still believed that you kissed someone before him and you were not going to tell him otherwise. This is best leverage you've had on him ever since you met him. Kageyama had thin lips, but they never seemed to be chapped.

You could feel your heartbeat speed up a little, just looking at him peeved you apparently. You continued to stare at him, the distant thought you pushed away nearly 6 years coming back up. Kageyama being an attractive guy.

"Why are you staring at me like a dumbass," Kageyama was looking at you now, but your eyes weren't on his. They were still on his lips.

"I'm not a dumbass you asshole," you looked away in a huff.

"You were staring at my lips weren't you," he said cockily and you quickened your pace, "oi, slow down dumbass," and he started walking fast too.

God, you started to jog away from him.

"You can't run from me, I'm a professional player," he said from behind but you didn't care and started to sprint away.

You were just caught staring at his lips. You hated him so much, yet why did you continue to hang out with him if you really disliked him as much as you did. You were running out of breath and looked behind you. Kageyama was only lightly jogging after you instead of full on sprinting like you were.

Hinata should have still been around here, you were bound to run into him at one point because he jogged up ahead not too long ago. You all three were heading home together, he wouldn't just leave you two.

As soon as you thought that, Hinata's orange head came into view.

"Hinata!" you cried out and he turned around to see you sprinting down the sidewalk directly into him.

"What is it, did you two stop love-fighting each other yet?" Hinata asked. You were on your knees, struggling to get some air into your system when you gave him an incredulous look.

"I'm running from Kageyama," you tried to say but it came out more like a wheeze. Your lungs burned while you stood up straight again, being wary for whenever Kageyama would come into view again.

Hinata sighed, "you both are childish. Just hash it out like you always do-" he was cut off when a male voice called out your name. You both turned in the direction from where it came from and it was Kageyama now sprinting in your direction.

"y/n!" he yelled out again and you turned, booking it in the other direction. You were already tired and running away from Kageyama was useless, so why were you doing it?

It wasn't long before Kageyama caught up to you, barely out of breath when he finally reached you. You however had to bend over again with your hands on your knees heaving again.

"Why are you such a dumbass, you kept running. Now look at you, bent over and breathless," if your ears weren't already red, they sure were now.

"Shutup, I don't want to hear you," you got off your knees and stood up straight against him again. He took this as a challenge and got up in your face too.

"Too bad then,"

You glared at him, puffs of air visible as you still struggled to get your bearings together, "I don't want to see you either,"

"Then look away," he responded and stepped closer to you. He was right, you could just look away and if you hated him so much you could have always just avoided him for years. But you didn't. You kept seeking out his company to bother him and say that you hated him.

Shit, maybe you didn't hate him. Your stomached clenched along with your heart when you thought of that. Had you been lying to yourself for the past decade just because he called you a dumbass? Hinata had long since cleared that incident up, but that didn't stop you from 'hating' him.

It felt weird but eerily calming to be glaring at the man who you believed you hated for the past decade. Him glowering right back at you as well.

"Listen, virgin lips-" he interrupted you with a snort, "- you don't stop talking and I'll shut you up,"

"That's not how-"

"Virgin lips," you took a step closer.

"No-"

"Virgin Lips," crossed your arms, cutting him off again. He was more than visibly irritated. His fingers were clenching by his side as he kept getting more pissed at you. You could care less.

"Dumba-"

"Virgin lips," you cut him off once more. By now he was in your face, grumbling all to heaven and back.

"-ass-"

"Virg-" you were cut off this time by Kageyama roughly grabbing you by the shoulders and slamming his lips into yours.

He was warm. Maybe he wasn't lying when he said he was conditioned. His lips were thin, but at least they weren't chapped like you speculated for them to be. He was firm against you, barely even moving his lips against yours.

You really were lying to yourself when you said you hated him. You weren't feeling hatred right now, but content. It felt weird to have your heart swell around in your chest, you used to associate it with hatred.

When he pulled away, there was a daze in his eye and a blush on his face that you knew didn't come from the cold.

"I no longer have virgin lips," he said, licking them as if for good measure.

"Me too," you said. When you did, whatever daze he was in was gone for good when he eyed you down. They were wide before they narrowed down into impossible slits.

"So you were lying huh? You damn dumbass," you stuck your tongue at him and he licked his lips again.

"You're the dumbass here for believing it dumbass," you turned away from him and started to walk again, "this doesn't change the fact that I still hate you,"

"You have a funny way of showing hate dumbass and I like it," he snickered behind you. Then came the infamous bickering you two shared constantly, but now you two knew neither of you actually ever meant it.

(in the distance hinata is standing with a shit eating grin on his face. he just won the betting pool between yamaguchi and tsukishima. he totally called it and everything)

[][]

i think i might have to edit this later but it was sitting in my drafts

[silvertsundere]

Silver Talks AniManga (07/05/23)

jump is finally back baby let's go!!! next week marks the last week of this serialization round but very much looking forward to the tall girl

ended up not watching more anime like I said I would last week, there were still 4 more I wanted to check out, but currently watching 5 airing which I think is pretty good considering I hadn't watched anything in almost 4 years, plus all those other shows I wanted to check out are all manga adaptations so I'm putting no hope in them being fully adapted so I don't feel as bad putting them aside

I want to catch up on another manga next but, after that, I want to go through my "watching" list and clean it up of stuff that's been left hanging there for these years, and then make my way through stuff I wanted to see from seasons I missed in that time ANYWAY

blue - finale/completed green - new series/new to me

Anime

Uma Musume - Road to the Top Ep4 (Finale)

what can I say that I haven't already. I love it obviously. I rate things on my mal for personal enjoyment but I usually have a "real" rating for it (like I did for jigokuraku not that long ago), but I can't do it in this case, horses just got too much power over me. I think I teared up in all 4 episodes (maybe not 1 but). it's good, period. the art is good, the animation isn't that special most of the time, but it has a lot of little character acting moments that hit really good, and let's not forget that maenami cut I was gushing about. the music isn't memorable but it served it's purpose, and the voice acting was really good ofc, I especially loved tokui sora's performance as opera, it's nice to see her getting to flex her range instead of always being yazawa nico, but ofc ayabe and topro were really good too. anyway really good, left me really hungry for S3 coming later this year tho I still have to go and watch S2 and even finish S1 tehe

Megumin Ep5

honestly this ep felt a lot like a finale, tho there's still 7 more left anyway the explosion scene was pretty cool also megumin x yunyun is quite good, good to see they'll keep feeding me since they'll be goofing around together for a bit longer

Imas CG: U149 Ep5

good episode (ofc), was wondering where they'd take it with risa being such a daddy's girl but she surprised me also the insert song was beyond the starlight (deresute's 1st anni song) so I was losing my gourd as soond as I heard the first couple notes god bless

Mashle Ep5

decent episode, dot's explosion magic looked decent enough, tho speaking of him I didn't expect him to sound like this at ALL, I thought it was gonna be something more high pitched like bakugou. also they teased the lang baddies, which is when this starts shifting more into an action series with a sprinkle of comedy instead of the opposite, which is nice, even if they're all over the op lol

Pokemon Horizons Ep5

nice little ep, the roy scene before this pic was cute. next ep should be more exciting, including the appearance of a brand new mon, like riko's pendant turtle from before

Jigokuraku Ep6

good episode, was really nice to finally see sagiri's first time to shine, and now they're finally at the village, I forgot about the rokurouta fight so I thought they were getting here earlier tehe. it also ended on the gay sex scene so that was very nice I figured the village was gonna be the cliffhanger but that's a really good one too, they really went IN on animating the tongue-fu, anyway curious to see who'll voice mei, she's very cute

Manga

Do Retry Ch1

that line in the pic below is the title of the one shot for this btw anyway. nice first chapter, the art is really striking with it's thick outlines which makes sense since the author was an assistant to matsui too. it's also a period piece which would be funny if it was cause of matsui too. good solid first chap, no complaints for me, did it's job of setting up the story, the main character and his motivations without getting too distracted with other things. we haven't had a sports manga in a while (I don't count blue box as one) so we'll see how long it'll stay around, or how sportsy it'll be in the first place lol

Dandadan Ch104

the vamola backstory continues, I thought this was gonna be the last ch but I guess not. it's been decent tho it could've been shorter imo

Show-ha Shoten! Ch18

VERY good chap, one of the best so far tbh, it's nice to see azemichi making a stand for himself, even if he's stumbling a bit. next chap should be pretty exciting but waiting a whole month is painful

One Punch Man Ch181

just an aftermath chap of the saitama tatsu fight, not really much going on. however I did read the jp raws for the next chap and it has a buncha cute tatsumakis so that's very good

Pension Life Vampire Ch4 - 5

apparently I completely missed ch4 OOPS. anyway, cute chaps like usual, going even more in on the yuri cause of this new girl here. it's nice that eri's moving in, opens the door for a lot more Situations

Tokyo Underworld Ch39

ok chap tho not much happened, the action was p dece but that's about it. the ending cliffhanger is something tho

The Ichinose Family's Deadly Sins Ch23

another eh... chap, they show him waking up but considering the previous pages it's gotta be not real right? anyway it needs to hurry up and end already, feels like it's just dragging on on purpose now

Fabricant 100 Ch20

the final battle is finally here, not much more left now, prob just enough to finish filling a vol

Witch Watch Ch107

GREAT chap, I didn't expect them to continue straight from the last one, much less to go this far right away, very excited to see what happens next week with that ending

Kill Blue Ch3

nice chap overall, not much to say, good to see we'll have some more action next week too

Blue Box Ch99

TAIKI MY BOY they grow up so fast 😢, I was already hyped for ch100 but with them dropping this right at the end I'm even more pogged up now holy

Cipher Academy Ch22

as much as I like cipher this felt a lot like a final chap, and it's been doing badly in ratings lately, so there's probably no hope of it making a comeback like medaka did back in the day it's sad that jump readers can't appreciate nisio's work and we get things like roboco running for a billion years instead sigh

Mashle Ch154

good chap, had that good balance of action and comedy that mashle is really good at, still gonna be a handful more chaps of the final boss

Tenmaku Cinema Ch4

nice chap, it's always nice to see someone's passion for something be apparent in their work like it has been in tenmaku

Undead Unluck Ch157

nice chap, like I said last time it's good that not everything is going according to fuuko's plan and seeing her struggle and overcome these unexpected situations is good. looking forward to the (possible) addition of a milf to the cast

Sakamoto Days Ch117

good to see them learning from sakamoto's example tho this being a flashback arc is annoying cause we know rion dies so every time something happens I'm just expecting it to be now argh

The Elusive Samurai Ch108

very good chap, good to see tokiyuki make up with yorishige after that argument a couple chaps ago and in such a meaningful way too also the colour page is beautiful but I'll put it on it's own post

Akane-banashi Ch60

good chap as usual, I've been waiting a long time for the dad to come back into the fray since he's such a big deal for akane's whole character, excited to see where this goes and her growth from it

Ayakashi Triangle Ch129

good chap, especially with those plot complications at the end making things not as simple as they seemed at first

[that-wimpy-cowboy-doll]

Happy Valentine’s Day @journal-of-an-outlaw!  I was your @rdr-secret-cupid this year :) I hope you enjoy the fluffy smut below!  (I’m sorry if they’re a bit OOC, I haven’t played enough RDO to enjoy the Moonshiner route yet :P)

Summary: After getting into yet another scrape, Anastasia finds herself unable to put words to the feelings she gets from the man whose arms she always ends up in.  Lem always enjoys dancing with her to the band, but when they can finally be alone, Anna gets the chance to show him, rather than tell him, how she feels.

Some might say I talk loud, see if I care Unlike them, I don’t walk away from my fear I’ve busted bones, broken stones, looked the devil in the eye I hope he’s going to break these chains, oh yeah - “Broken Bones” by Kaleo

And I’ll always love you but I don’t have to sing it “For worse or for better” don’t rhyme They say I got the right one so now I should write one But I’d rather just show you tonight - “I Hate Love Songs” by Kelsea Ballerini

“This, uh...might sting.”

Anna sucked in a sharp breath as Lem trickled the thin stream of shine over her split knuckles.  It was another fight, it always was, and as often as her mouth and her fists got her into trouble, this one had felt more righteous than most.

The Lemoyne Raiders had had it out for Maggie since they’d first heard her name, the weight she had in the shine business.  Anastasia couldn’t tell whether it’d been luck, or fortune, maybe destiny that had led her to them in the saloon on the outskirts of Rhodes.  Each was about twice her size, but like the old saying went, the drunker they were the harder they fell.  Besides, she’d needed to let off some steam these days.  Do something that made her feel free, now that she could fly without the looming cloud of Hixon and his men.

And this...thing that she and Lem had been pussyfooting around the last few weeks.

“Who was it this time?” he said flatly, dabbing at the delicate scraped skin of her fist.  She wanted him to look at her, offering a grim smile to Roy, the feller who played the banjo at the shack on weekends.  Fuck, that was right, it was Friday.  The rest of the band was due any minute.

“Raiders.  Usual jackass sort.  Caught ‘em badmouthin’ Maggie, eyeballin’ me, like they knew she brought me in.”  She could feel the calluses of Lem’s hand wrapped around her wrist, on the pads of his fingertips while he finished patching her wound.

“You know, you - you don’t need to swing on every feller looks at you the wrong way, Anna,” Lem sighed, letting his cup of shine clink softly on the table.  He glanced over her shoulder to nod at the line of musicians trailing in.  There was something exhausted in his face, like her tiredness was catching.  It was her, she knew.  She knew her mouth moved faster than her brains, and her fists faster still than her mouth.

Anastasia moved to pull her hands away from Lem’s, straightening in her seat and bringing her drink to her lips.  “I should get behind the bar.  Folk are going to start showin’ up.”

But he reached for her still, leaning forward a little.  “Ain’t anybody here yet - even so, that feller you hired, Gil, Gil what’s-his-name - he’s got a handle on it.”  His blue eyes shone in the dim lamp light burning overhead; his thumbs were tracing tender circles over the places on her hands not marked by bruises.  “Dance with me.  While the band warms up.”

She was still jittery from the fight, her hair loose and messy, a little wild with the adrenaline shooting through her veins.  But now her heart was fluttering madly beneath her chest, screaming in her ribcage.  Something warm and heavy lived in her throat, making the words creak as they slipped from between her lips: “Y-yeah, okay.”

He guided her firm but gentle away from their little table by the bar, into the center of the wooden floor across from where Roy and his boys had set up.  She gave a little start when he held her by the waist, sliding her right hand on top of his left.  For someone usually so headstrong and assured of herself, having Lem hold her, touch her this way, so solemn and so gentlemanlike, Anna felt like she was liable to turn to jelly on the spot.

The band picked up at Shifty Simon the Pianist’s count, something moody and slow she hadn’t heard them play often.  Somewhere in the back of her head, Anastasia was aware of Gil serving someone at the bar, but when Lem lifted her arm to turn her in a steady circle, his eyes meeting hers in the low, warm light of the shack, his body so near to hers seemed to hold up the weight of the world.

“You are a hot head,” he whispered, his slick, sweet breath tickling the shell of her ear.  A jolt flickered to life in Anna’s stomach.  “A h-hotheaded, stubborn, impossible...wonderful woman.”  He was smiling against her, she could tell, the playful curve of his voice.  “And you’re gonna be the death of me, I swear it.  Bruised knuckles...”

“Lem - ”  She cleared her throat, blinking glassily up at him.  “I - I don’t - ”

“That’s alright.”  He took her chin between his thumb and index finger, like he was studying her from between those soft, long lashes of his.  The air around him - around them - seemed still, separate from the rest of the shack.  She realized a half a beat too late that now they’d slowed their dancing, that he was holding her more than he was moving, and she was letting herself be held.  “You - you don’t gotta say nothin’.”

“I want to,” she muttered, her eyes dropping from his, her hands tight near his collar.  “Lem, you know I ain’t as good at...at tellin’ you, but I…”

“It’s okay.”  His thumb brushed the plump curve of her lower lip, he was close enough now that she could practically taste the whiskey on his mouth, the light sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks looking soft beneath the buzz of the bulbs above them.  “You here, with me...that’s all I need.”

It was all she needed, too, his arms around her, until the customers began to trickle in and the band picked up.  She knew that Gil couldn’t handle so many of the regulars like she could, so, painstakingly, she pulled out of Lem’s arms with a whispered apology and what felt like a daring kiss to his cheek, before making her way back to the bar.

“You’se in head over heels, girl,” Gil said under his breath between pours, his mustache bristling with the smile that played across his lips.  “Best snatch that boy up, on account of he’s head over heels for you, too.”

“Shuddup, Gil,” Anna chuckled back, her cheeks going warm, but poured them each a drink, too.

Lem stayed until closing, returning to the bar to order himself a drink, and a dinner, and to fiddle with the bowls of almonds that Anna and Gil set out, not taking his hand away when Anna reached out to bat him playfully, instead catching her fingers between his and running his thumb across her palm until another customer came to ask for their next glass of shine.  Anna declared last call just after midnight, but thankfully most of her patrons looked as dead on their feet as she felt, clambering toward the door with wilting smiles on their faces.  Roy and the rest of the band packed up while she and Gil got to cleaning, Lem helping even when she shooed him and insisted he didn’t need to wait for her.

“I think I’m gon’ bank my hours,” Gil announced, wearing far too smug a smirk in Anastasia’s humble opinion, while there was still the sweeping to be done.  “You two stay outta trouble now, I’ll see y’all t’morrah.”

“N-night, Gil,” Lem called over his shoulder, already making his way toward the broom and the dustpan.

Anna counted out the cash she owed the band, pressing the bills into each member’s hand.  “Thanks, y’all.  We’ll see you soon?”

Roy returned her smile and offered her a gentle pat on the shoulder.  “Not a moment too soon.  You take care now, alright, Miss Brooks?”

“You, too, Roy.”

She shut and locked the front door behind Shifty Simon, who nodded at Lem’s back and winked before she waved him off, rolling her eyes with a smile that wouldn’t drop off her lips.  The shack felt suddenly a lot smaller with just the two of them in it, Lem Fike dutifully sweeping away the last of the grime from her floorboards, the muscles of his strong shoulders bunching the rolled sleeves of his union suit.

It was hard for her to tell him how she felt, she knew that much.  But she could show him.

She slunk her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to the flat of his back between his shoulder blades.  He smelled of linen and booze and sweat, but something about the scent felt more like home than she’d inhaled in years.  She could tell he was smiling, he liked it when she touched him, and he turned around with her still touching him, bringing his rough hands up tenderly to frame her face.

“Hey,” she whispered, lost in the soft echoes of his eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered back, his gentle touch wandering down the slopes of her shoulders, coming to rest at the small of her back.  His forehead brushed hers before their lips met, and then she was lost, her heart thrumming wildly in her chest, her teeth grazing against his lower lip, his stubble a sharp contrast from the slow and steady way he was touching her, kissing her.

Anna stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck, press her chest against his.  So he might feel the way her heart seemed to beat through her skin, stumbling around her ribcage to reach for him.  Her hands were skimming through his hair, pulling him close, her tongue dragging across the chapped skin of his lower lip, and then against his tongue in turn.

Lem was grabbing her by the waist, nudging her backwards, pulling back at long last to press his lips to her pulse point.  Anna couldn’t help the high, keening moan that slipped from her throat into the thick spring bayou air above them.

“Y’know I n-need you,” Lem murmured, and she could almost feel the rapid beating of his heart, too, his breath stammering on her skin.  His knee slid between hers, her hands were scrunching at his collar, scrabbling to get him bare, shed everything that was keeping them apart.

“Need you, too.”  Anna popped the buttons of his shirt, shoving his suspenders off.  “Can tell you a lot better like this…”

“Fuck, Anna…”  He leaned his head back while she kissed her way down his bare chest, leaving a love bite at the patch of skin above his heart.  It was utterly filthy, the noises he was making, and then the feel of him releasing the tension that seemed to live in his shoulders while she made her way down his front, her hands slipping beneath the front of his pants.

With a whispered “this okay?” she stroked him long and slow when he nodded.  She backed him up toward the nearest table, pushing gently so that he’d finally lean back onto it, pulling her with him.  He fell into the spot gripping her by the hips, and then peeling the buttons open of her shirt, too, weighing her breasts in the palms of his hands.

She groaned as he dragged his thumbs across her nipples, her stomach twisting with want.  He met her eyes, a small and mischievous smile passing his lips before she squeezed him just a little, Lem leaning back and slipping his hands down to the buttons on her pants.  Anna broke away from him to shrug out of the shirt he’d loosed and kick her pants off onto the floor.  He took her nakedness in with hunger in his gaze and reached for her hips once more.

“Can I…”  She flickered her eyes down to his cock between them, her teeth baring down greedily on her lower lip.

“Yeah, God, Anna,” Lem mumbled, his thumbs pressing hard into her hips, drawing her as close as he could.  She slunk down onto him carefully, cautiously, letting him part her where she needed him, filling her to the hilt.

“Fuck, Lem…”  Her hands were on his shoulders, trying to gain purchase, her knees rubbing against the tabletop.  His hands were large, warm, rough on her waist, holding her firm and steady while he let himself buck upward into her.

Anna made love to Lem messily, sloppily, tangling her fingers in his hair and drawing his moans out of him like honey from a hive, her lips and teeth desperate to cling to him as much as she could, until she forgot that they were only connected, until she forgot that he’d ever been apart from her in the first place.

The great wave of bliss rolled over her starting with the tips of her toes and tiding its way upward, until all she saw was white with his mouth pressed to her collarbone, his cock throbbing inside her, his calluses catching roughly on the sensitive bud of her nipple.

She gasped a little, love-drunk and a bit giddy, when he got his feet beneath him, sweeping her onto her back on her table, in her bar, and pressed a very stubbly kiss to the sensitive flesh of her neck while he rolled his hips flush against hers.  He was close, she knew, those blazing blue eyes boring down into hers.

“Anna…” he was breathing, his lips curling around her name like a prayer, and then he was kissing her again, groaning against her mouth while he pulled out to come on her stomach, his forehead dropping to hers while his chest rose and fell with hard, sharp pants.

Lem stood looking like Anna felt, the tiniest bit dizzy, bashful, blushing while he groped about for a spare rag to clean himself up with.  “I’m sorry, I - I hope I didn’t hurt you, I - ”

“Jesus H. Mahogany Christ, Lem Fike,” Anna giggled - giggled! - and sat up, wiping the small dew of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, remembering her sore knuckles.  “I oughta get in more fights if that’s what comes of it.”

When he thought she wasn’t paying attention, he grabbed her by the thighs, sliding her back toward him across the table, and leaned in for another kiss.  “Don’t you dare, Miss Brooks.”

[hayffiebird]

Taste of Strawberries, chap. 24 (part two)

Chapter 24 (part two) A gift worthy of love Haymitch ducked low as they passed the willow tree with its pink colored branches and mint green leaves stretched far over the road. Miriam’s Road, Effie called it. Miri Road for short. The gravel pathway was the same pale yellow as a slice of fresh pineapple. He wouldn’t mind a cab ride but Effie preferred walking, even now and the house wasn’t far. “As long as we take it slow.“ Her arm was looped around his, just like in the old days. 27 weeks into the pregnancy she was more than grateful for the support. It drew many looks but then again, they always did. “I love this garden.” Days in the sun had painted a rosy layer across her nose, now sprinkled with freckles. “You would,” he said and Effie smiled. “The colors are rather intense, I admit but you see, I spent so much time here as a child. I used to chase ducks, jump after soap bubbles bigger than my head. I sang for the swans, badly.” She chuckled at the memory. “Mother clucked at me. ‘Be a lady, Euphemia!’ But it was like her words just flew past my ear. And when evening came and I got tired my father scooped me up and I watched the fireflies from his shoulder. All those little lights in the flower bushes. It was magical. I was so happy.” She fell silent, her smile fading. Mrs. Q used to join as well. Not often, of course. She was never one for outings and daydrips. The only times mother might convince her were on very special occasions, like anniversaries. “You simply must come! You’re part of our family too and Euphemia would just love that.” She brushed the thought away. It only made her sad. Sad and angry. Angry with herself most of all.

Whenever Mrs. Q. made a comment about the districts or the new government Effie always made excuses for her. Blamed it on her upbringing and the great losses she suffered during the wars, both wars. And when it came to her strong opinions about Haymitch, his drinking and very un-Capitoly ways Effie truly believed it all stemmed from a place of genuine concern for her. Because she cared for her and wanted her happy. Mathilda Quinlan’s true colors were brighter than fireworks and still Effe didn’t see them. A mistake that nearly cost her… No! She refused to finish that thought. They hadn’t spoken since that awful day over at her apartment. Mrs. Quinlan just sent her notice. Told her to pack her bags. By then everyone already knew her sins. Mrs. Q was a quick worker. Always had been. She didn’t even have to do all that much. All it took was a few words in passing to one of the biggest gossipers in town and the Capitol did the rest. When Haymitch first arrived he probably thought it was all Gloria’s making. Honestly, she wished it was. The outcome wouldn’t change but at least then the betrayal wasn’t made by someone she loved. By someone she thought loved her back. When all of this was happening June and Annabel were in District 11. Effie never told them but news of her predicament reached them anyway and Annabel was on the next train. It was so cold that day. Early March and the Capitol was covered in a glitter of crystals. The last frost before Spring. Annabel had to look all over town for her old friend before she found her. Here in Cupid’s Garden, by the Roman Stairs. Haymitch didn’t know it but as her pregnancy progressed Effie had spent more and more time by those steps. Castor and Pollux’s mind flights were everywhere. Sprinkled over the Capitol like confetti. Some obvious, some hidden, all of them lovely. But the ones by the Roman Stairs were her favorites. The very reason she walked there day in and day out. Not because of her parents or any good or half-good memories she had from around here. No, because the final image showed District 12. When those woods engulfed her, that’s when she felt the closest to Haymitch. Even if it was only an illusion. The day Annabel showed up Effie wasn’t looking at pictures though. Not moving pictures anyway. She stared at a sonogram, for the first time without her hands shaking. That’s after she spent the past three hours at the hotel crying her eyes out. How strange to feel happy and so utterly destroyed with despair, all at the same time. Those two little dots. How many hours did they sit there in the biting cold, talking, while the wind nipped their noses? She had no idea. A lot of her memories from that chaotic time were a blur. Too many life-changing things, good and bad, had happened so fast. But for the first time Effie truly confided in someone. Someone other than Haymitch. After Mrs. Q, she didn’t think she’d ever trust anyone here again but that’s just the thing about Annabel. She was different. An outcast too. Had been one for a long time. Everyone else thought Effie Trinket suffered a fate worse than death but not Annabel. She was the first person to tell her she was happy for her sake. For it was happy news. Those long weeks and months alone in the Capitol, Effie felt worried, distressed, heartsick, guilty, jumpy, furious, constantly choked up and panicked about the future. But not a day went by without her feeling happy, grateful for those two growing inside her. Annabel was also the only one who knew about the incident with the pennyroyal tea. Effie wisely decided to keep Haymitch out of that loop. It would only upset him and what for? Mrs. Q. had already fired all of her guns, big and small. She couldn’t hurt them anymore. “You got mail,” Haymitch said as they walked the path toward June and Annabel’s house. He reached inside a fork in the apple tree and got out a handful of pink paper hearts. So many they slipped through his fingers. Gracie and the others had not returned since their first visit. Undoubtedly someone saw them and ran for the phone. The girls weren’t exactly quiet there by the window. June and Annabel laughed when they first heard of the visit, with all of them seated around the roast chicken. Effie was concerned that the parents would be angry, not only with her and Haymitch but with the two of them as well but Annabel waved it off. “Let them. It’ll be a refreshing new round of name-calling. ‘Traitor’ and ‘turn-coat’ and ‘back-stabber’: it gets old.” Either way, after their initial visit, the girls didn’t come knocking again. But, as Haymitch so correctly pointed out to Effie: “They never actually promised you anything.” They just found new ways to get the message across. Snuck little notes in Effie’s windowpanes, used them for sail in bark boats and sent them cruising across the pond or, like today, hid them in the tree. How they did it was a mystery because they were never caught red-handed. Haymitch understood the appeal. This cat and mouse game they played with June and Annabel’s hawk-eyed neighbors. He had the same rebellious tendencies as a kid after all. Same “fight the power” response when told he couldn’t do something. He opened the door for her and closed it behind them. Effie headed for his room which was closest but Haymitch took the route through the kitchen first. He plucked two pomegranates from the fruit basket and got out his knife. When Jerome, the big-bellied, always-good-for-a-joke man who sold Effie her groceries every week, heard what happened on the square he got mad as a mad dog. Next thing they knew, three wooden crates arrived at June and Annabel’s doorstep, filled to the brim with large, fragrant pomegranates of the finest quality. All cultivated in his greenhouses. Next to chocolate wafers, the dark pinkish fruit had been Effie’s ultimate craving ever since she got pregnant. She inhaled the stuff, one glass at a time. “Oh, thank you. You’re an angel,” Effie said when he handed it to her, fresher than fresh and clinking with ice cubes. She sat leaned back in the recliner with a pillow against her back and he crawled up in his usual spot in the bay window. Hands knitted over his stomach he watched Effie sip her glass and read the little notes on those paper hearts. She always said the girls shouldn’t keep doing this but he knew she was happy for them. These hellos from her protégées. Held them more precious than gold. He saw it in her smiles, like right now. Even if they were laced with sadness. “Aren’t you angry?” he asked. “Oh, you should be inside my head sometimes.” She drew a breath that couldn’t quite count as a sigh. “I saw it coming, really. They never liked my teaching methods. Or the fact that I spoke up. Trust me, they’ve wanted to be rid of me for a long time. When they found out about this,” she said and placed her hand against the top of her stomach. “Well, let’s just say it was the final straw. Professor Sickle gathered a name collection. Written complaints from concerned parents. I was summoned before the Board and they told me, as much as they wanted to, they simply could not renew my contract with a good conscious.” “What a lot of bull,” he said and she gave him a joyless smile. “Indeed. Most of all I worried about my students. What would happen to them. But from what I hear, the Board already has a problem with Talisha.” “So?” “It means she’s good, Haymitch. Not quite in my league of course but then again: who is? Beetee’s told me about her and her background. They knew each other way back in District 3. Gracie and the others, they’re in good hands.” She had herself another sip of juice. “You should see professor Sickle,” she said. “To hear her tell it Snow will one day rise up from his grave and everything will resume to the way it was. But Pallas and Appollo’s Academy are a thing of the past and good riddance! The date for the new school is set and it will be long before the end of Talisha’s contract. A co-ed school with teachers from all over the country. They’re building universities, did you know that? In District 4 and 7, in addition to the one we have here. No more School boards where class and wealth gives you power. So if Sickle and her flock of vultures and eye-servants wants to fire me as one last death twitch, they can have it! The future is coming whether they like it or not.” Yeah, Haymitch thought. That’s my Eff. Damn it, he thought right after. Not “his”. Effie wasn’t his. Never would be again. Why was that so hard to learn? The ice clinked as Effie tipped the glass up. She caught a drip of juice before it escaped her lip and said, “But to change the subject, Haymitch. I was thinking.” “That hurt?” “When my father was born, it was grandfather who chose his name. And ‘Euphemia’ was actually picked out by my mother. So you could say it’s a Trinket tradition for the fathers to decide the boy’s names and the mothers to decide the girl’s. And since our children are half-Trinkets, I think it would be beautiful to carry on that tradition. What do you say?” ”Not a chance, sweetheart.” ”Why ever not? I have full confidence in you.” “You think I was born yesterday? You’re just saying that cause you wanna lock your name down so when you call our daughter ‘Amandagram’, I can’t say anything. And even then, I bet you’ll still find some way to pick the boy’s name, too.” ”I certainly would not. And who said anything about ’Amandagram’? What kind of a name is that? Amandalyn, on the other hand…” ”Is too long. I never even heard of it until today. Besides… what?” he said, at the sudden wide smile on Effie’s face. ”My dearest Haymitch. You always tell me I pick all the long, weird names but you never stop to think about the name you’ve got. ‘Haymitch Abernathy’ doesn’t exactly roll easily off the tongue, does it? All these years and I still can’t find a decent nickname for it. How did your parents come up with ’Haymitch’ anyway?” Too late she realized her blunder. Felt it in the tense silence that followed. They never spoke of his dead family. To cover the slip-up, she said, ”What about Florentinus then? For the boy. That’s fancy.” ”No.” ”I still think Haymitch Junior has a nice ring to it.” ”No!” He rubbed his forehead, like getting a headache. “Please, Eff. Spare the poor kid. One of me is enough.” xXx A week passed. The heat wouldn’t let go of the Capitol but the same could not be said for the rest of Panem. One day a call came from District 11. They were just setting the breakfast table. Haymitch placed the largest bread basket by the coffee pot. No smaller would do because ever since Katniss and Peeta sent him the trunk of clothes and whatnot, the boy made a habit of keeping them all with baked goods. Raspberry and blueberry muffins. The light and fluffy brioche bread baked with honey that Effie liked. Even crescent-moon rolls dotted with seeds that he baked especially for June and Annabel. Effie poured orange juice into a big glass jug but before she could lift it off the counter Haymitch was there. He didn’t let her carry anything heavier than a book and even then, only the light ones. That’s when the phone rang, June answered and they didn’t think much of it at first. Not until the blonde woman re-appeared, face flushed. “Bel, Eustace’s on the phone,” she said. “He says the tree blew over last night! Half the top floor is gone!” For the next three days the two ladies hardly ever came off the phone. “That blasted tree!” Annabel said. “We should’ve listened to Eustace and cut it down when we had the chance.” Haymitch got a call through to Katniss and Peeta but apparently the storm missed District 12. He remembered well, the harm they could do. Storms. Not Katniss and Peeta. There was a reason Seamers were fixers. One had to be if you wanted to survive the winter. All those ramshackle, dry-as-a-bone houses before the rebellion. It was a full-time job just to keep the walls from caving in. Something always broke or bailed on you when you needed it most. Frozen pipes, clogged drains, leaky roofs, cracked chimneys. The list just went on and on. In his prime, grandpa Harold was a sought for carpenter. Haymitch often came with on one of his jobs and he learned a thing or two. From his visits at the woodshop as well. He would have offered now. Gone to Eleven and helped with the repairs. Pay off an ounce of his enormous debt to June and Annabel. But what about Effie? She was due in August. Late August, but still. He bet that with his famous luck, the moment the train rolled into Eleven she would go into labor, just because. “I know people you can call and put the bill on me,” he told Annabel but even that he wasn’t getting. They already hired people from The Cidery. But it changed the plans for all of them. Disrupted the schedule, as the former escort would say. June and Annabel wanted to be there. Back in District 11.They didn’t say so out loud, not outside their own bedroom but Effie knew it more than well. A lot of people cringed when they heard Caesar Flickerman’s daughter went and bought a place in a district. An outer district no less! But Effie knew how much they loved that house. For the last few years June and Annabel had spent more time in District 11 than in the Capitol. They led a life there. One they left, because of her. “You should go,” Effie said, one night when she had a moment alone with her old friend. And it didn’t take much to convince Annabel. Now that Haymitch Abernathy was there, by Effie’s side. But even then she squeezed her hand and promised, “I’ll be back before you deliver.” xXx And so, Haymitch and Effie were alone again. It was so hot out. “The hottest summer in living memory” Effie said which made Haymitch laugh because he was from District 12. Still, the almost tropical heat took its toll. On Effie because she was pregnant and on Haymitch because he was Haymitch. So they didn’t mind a day in. Or three. Surprisingly calm days they were too. Sane. For them anyway. Maybe because Effie spent the majority of them resting or consumed by her new, favorite hobby. Whenever Haymitch joined her and no matter the hour, Effie’s nose was always in a baby book. She had like a hundred of them, stocked sky-high in both their rooms. Haymitch even made a few attempts to follow her example but he always shut the book tight within the first minute since about 95 % of those pages were about everything that could go wrong. His imagination was bad enough. He didn’t need specifics. But most of the time life was just one calm, uneventful, boring day after another. Just the kind Haymitch savored. When he got to spent them with his annoying, pregnant escort, that was. So Effie read and Haymitch made her pomegranate juice while he tried to wrap his head around the fact soon two new people would join the party. Their little ones, to use Effie’s words. Besides, when they could just keep to themselves, within these walls, it was easier to believe the world had finally forgotten all about them. Course, like so many things in the Capitol it was only an illusion. Effie was re-reading chapter 14, “When you bring your twins home” and Haymitch took his chance and snuck into the bathroom. Crouched before the cabinet he got out his shower bag. Well, “his” was quite a stretch. He more or less stole it from Effie and stuffed it with shampoo bottles shortly after he moved in. The thing was printed with glossy red, almost obscene flamingo flowers but it was spacey and that’s all that mattered.

He dug inside, rummaged through the camouflage until his hand closed around one of Ripper’s trusty bottles. Good and heavy. He was playing his own cat and mouse game with Effie. After June and Annabel left for Eleven he resumed to his old habit of hiding bottles around the house, at arm’s reach but out of her sight. The night was his new best friend, just like when he and Effie were together. When he could get some alone time with the bottles, without Effie hanging over his shoulder. By morning there wasn’t so much as a wine cork on display for her to get all stressed and worked up about. Only difference this time around was now he kept himself on an even shorter leash. He aimed to get in a couple good mouthfuls throughout the day as well. As long as he always stayed a little drunk he wouldn’t lose control. Because he couldn’t just disappear in a booze fog and leave Effie on her own. He tipped the bottle up. Her face, tight with disappointment, flashed before his mind’s eye, but he brushed the image away so he could take another sip. It was walking on a knife-edge. He knew that better than anyone, but what options did he have? He would be of no use to Effie or the kids in withdrawal. He zipped the bag up and returned it to the cabinet. His elbow nudged into the pile of books by the toilet and almost knocked it over. “1000 names for your bundle of joy” announced the one on top. Silly title. He picked it up. Green, yellow and orange arrow flags stuck out from between the pages. If memory served him right, yellow was for the names she liked, orange was for the names she really liked and green gave him headaches. -He flipped through it. Already knew what he’d find there. Amandalyn. “Worthy of love.” With a heart drawn around it. Silly, ol’ Eff. He turned to a different page. Over at the boy’s section, still on the letter ‘A’. And yep, there it was. He stared at it for a long time. How odd to see the name printed in ink like this. He was only used to the big, jiggly letters written with lead pencils and crayons. Effie didn’t know. How could she know? Sae wasn’t a blabbermouth, neither were the kids and most importantly, Effie would never insist on the name Amandalyn if she knew the connection. It was all just a coincidence. He didn’t even see it himself. The resemblance. Not straight away. Not consciously. But perhaps his immediate veto of the name wasn’t so much that it was long or unusual. It just reminded him too much of his brother. Amadeus. Amandalyn. They even had similar origins. To love and be loved. He heaved a sigh and put the book back where he found it. His shirt clung to him with sweat and he pulled it over his head. Standing in the shower, under the cool, soothing rain he brushed his teeth with such vigor it foamed pink around his lips. He spat and reached for the pocket of his bathrobe where he kept the peppermints. As a boy he sometimes watched the older kids, all scrawny, gaunt teenagers, gathered by the slag heap where they passed a cigarette or a quarter bottle of white liquor between them. Before they went home they always stripped the needles off the nearest pine and chewed the stuff, to cover any tell-tale breath. This was his second-best choice. Still chewing, he squirted a blob of shampoo onto his palm, since he was already in here. While he massaged it into his hair, Amadeus’s grinning face floated back into his head, followed by that same old pinch in his heart. His brother would have loved it if someone was named after him. Absolutely. The shy and withdrawn little boy who hardly ever spoke to people outside the family would tell everyone. Sae, the Hendersons, his school teacher, the Mellarks. He wouldn’t shut up about it. Good God, my life for a drink. He tossed another handful of peppermints into his mouth and with a towel around his hips he walked into the kitchen. “You hungry? We can order some…” He silenced at the sight. Effie stood by the dish washer, her back to him. The china clattered as she put the plates and cups away in the cabinets. A house chore that was getting increasingly difficult as her body took up more and more space. Her once swift motions were slower now because of the pregnancy but Haymitch could still tell she was out of sorts. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” she muttered. “I’m just cleaning up.” She took the soup tureen and tried to put it away on a high shelf. A light groan slipped between her lips and Haymitch was by her side in half a heartbeat. “Don’t do that,” he said and took the bowl. He put it on the shelf with ease and got a clear look on Effie’s face. Her flushed cheeks, her tight lips and he realized she was barely holding it together. “What’s the matter?” His eyes flitted to her belly. “You’re not feeling alright? Is it…” “No, no,” she reassured him. “We’re alright.” “What’s happened?” Effie rubbed her palms against her upper arms, like suddenly feeling cold. “Nothing. I just got a call. While you were in the shower. That kind.” Haymitch’s face tightened. “Gloria?” “No, I don’t think so. I didn’t recognize any of their voices.” “What’d they say?” “The usual. ‘I hope they’re stillborn. We’re all keeping our fingers crossed that you’ll bleed out. If you had any common decency you would jump in the river.” Her words made his head throb. That’s how tightly he pressed his jaws shut. “They’re nothing,” he said and it was a miracle his voice didn’t quiver. “Less than nothing.” And I’m gonna beat those assholes to a pulp! June and Annabel’s got caller ID, don’t they? “It’s so ridiculous,” Effie sniffed and brushed a tear before it could fall. “I should be thick-skinned by now. At least Gloria dared to tell it to my face.”

“Shit, Eff,” he mumbled. He tried to pull her into a hug but she wouldn’t let him hold her. Not for long. “Please,” she said and pulled away. “I’m sorry, I… I need a minute, OK?” True to character, he thought. She always excused herself when she needed a good cry. “Sure,” he said. “I’m gonna make some green pea soup. For later?” “Mm-hm,” she said over her shoulder and managed a smile. “Sounds delicious.” Usually when these things happened Effie was able to brush it off. Or got spitting mad, which was better. This incident had clearly gotten to her. He wished she would talk to him about it. Stressing over what went on in Effie’s head like this only made him constipated. Course, he thought. What’s to say she didn’t feel the exact same way about him? Yeah, that wasn’t even a question. Night came. Haymitch lay on his bed for a change and stared up at the ceiling with his hand against the back of his head. It was well past midnight and Effie was still up and about. He heard her when she left her room but she didn’t come back. It wasn’t the first time he listened to Effie’s slow footfalls after dark. The babies kept her up at night. Walking helped ease some of the discomfort. It was always the same route. Bedroom, kitchen. living room and back again. Bedroom, kitchen, living room. Bedroom, kitchen, living room. The sound made him feel bad. He put Effie in that condition, after all. Well, not all by himself. He wanted to help, of course he did. Every time. And yet he always remained in the bay window. Drunk and unsteady he was useless anyway. He would only make her nauseous and she had enough of that from the pregnancy, without his help. He felt the thick beat of music far away. Another mind-numbing party for mind-numbing people with so little going on in their lives they got a kick out of harassing pregnant ladies. Finally he got up. Hid his silver hip flask inside a house plant, just to be safe. It was still almost full. He hadn’t taken a drop since the shower. Her heard her murmurs from afar. Effie sat on the couch, wearing the same dress and dark, silk stockings from earlier. The over-sized bag lay open by her feet and all the items were rounded up in neat rows beside her and on the coffee table. “Socks, caps, pacifiers,” Effie murmured and counted them off her fingers. “Nappies, sleepers, onesies, baby bottles…” She looked up at the sound of his cough and flushed pink. “Good thing you thought about re-packing the hospital bag,” Haymitch said, leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve only done it… what? 16 times?” “I just wanted to make sure,” Effie said. “It would be so our luck if we realize we don’t have any receiving blankets the moment my water breaks.” She lifted a stray diaper from the bottom of the bag, silently counting again. “Alright, sweetheart. Break time.” “Hey!” Effie protested when he took the bag. “I have a system!” But she spoke to deaf ears. Haymitch just stuffed the items inside, all at random. “Oh, that’s splendid, just splendid! Now I have to start over from the beginning!” He zipped it up and joined her on the couch. Without a word he cupped her head, thumbs just behind her ears and rubbed his fingertips in gentle, circular motions. Effie groaned in relief and closed her eyes. It wasn’t the first time he gave her a massage. As her belly got bigger and bulkier it put a strain on the rest of her body. Her legs were swollen, her muscles all tight and aching and he did what he could to make her relax. He had a knack for it too. To their equal surprise. “Maybe you should consider a career in massage therapy,” Effie joked, after the first few times. “Finally gonna tell me what’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked as he moved down to her shoulders. “Got all worked up ‘bout the birth? That it?” Effie didn’t response but she didn’t have to. Her silence told him everything. “Well,” he said and slid his palm down the side of her spine, close by her right shoulder blade and relaxed the knots he found there. “If only there was someone here that you could talk to. Someone who’s also in this, neck-deep.” “I can handle it,” Effie mumbled. “I’ve already done this once before, after all. Really, Haymitch, it’s fine.” In answer, Haymitch closed his hand around her wrist, fingertips right over her pulse. “Yeah, sure, sweetheart,” he snorted. “You’re so calm you’re practically a vegetable.” Effie breathed a sigh. Dropped the façade. “Fine,” she said. “I’m terrified. I just… I’m terrified.” “So tell me about it.” “And get you all freaked out?” “Well, that ship sailed a long time ago, sweetheart.” They had never talked about the birth before. Not really. Not the actual experience. The mechanics of it all. Frankly, just the word alone, “birth”, made him want to run and hide under the bed with his hands clamped over his ears. But he saved those feelings for another day. They couldn’t both be scared shitless at the same time. “Remember what the doctor told us,” he said when Effie wouldn’t speak. “It’s all going as planned. They’re in the right position and everything. And since it’s twins, it might even make the labor easier.” Effie huffed a breath and shook her head. Exhausted. “I wish.” Her hand came to a rest against her belly. “You know I’m really looking forward to seeing them…” “Course.” “To hold them, get to know them. It’s just… I’m terrified how much it’s going to hurt. How long it will take. And I know what I’m about to say is not rational…” “’But?’” he coaxed. She looked at him. No tears shimmered in her blue eyes now but they were redder than his. “I’m afraid I will get punished. For what I did during the Games.” “Eff…” “I didn’t get to keep Alex. What if something happens to the twins because I…” “Don’t.” He reached in and grasped her hand, the one on her belly. “No, don’t look away. Look at me. Nothing’s gonna happen, sweetheart. OK? You’re doing great. And if karma’s gonna come around and bite us in the ass, mine’s in much graver danger. I did worse things than you, princess.” “That’s not true,” she mumbled. “That was all Snow.” “So by that logic, karma owes me then. And those two cooking in there are my kids too, not just yours. Besides, if we’re gonna go down that road, you’ve already been punished, Eff, plenty. You were imprisoned, you were tortured, you got pregnant with my spawn. Call it a day, sweetheart. If you keep on thinking like that, you’re gonna end up like me so… better stop.” He gave her hand a squeeze. Effie swallowed and without a word she lay down on her side, with her head against his lap. This was a scene he remembered well, from their Games years. Course, most of the time the roles were reversed. With him seeking her comfort. But I can get used to this, he thought and brushed a wayward lock of hair from her face. The clock ticked away the minutes as Haymitch gently knead the tight areas in Effie’s back. Her breathing was slower now. So slow he reckoned she’d fallen asleep and he nearly flinched when she spoke up next. “You will be there too, won’t you?” The question was so unexpected, so outrageous it stunned him. Stunned him Avox mute. He just stared at her, like a fish. “Kane wasn’t.” The words were very hushed. “But you will? I don’t have to do it alone?” “Course I’ll be there. What kinda question is that?” He sounded like a whiny kid but he couldn’t help it. The fact that Effie could ever doubt if he’d be in the room when his children were born, that fucking hurt. “Seriously, Eff? You think I’m that guy?” His hand went to his pocket, on autopilot, but of course his hip flask wasn’t there. He cussed and said, “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, sweetheart. Katniss and Peeta would fucking kill me. You go around worrying ‘bout this kinda stuff?” Again, her silence told him everything he needed to know. “Effie,” he sighed. “Don’t be so bloody paranoid. Try and relax a little. OK?” “What are you doing?” she asked when she felt him move underneath her. He carefully lifted her head from his lap. “Don’t be mad.” “Again, sweetheart. Stop. Being. Paranoid.” He put a pillow under her head. “Just lie down, breathe and unwind. You’re making people for God’s sake.” And out of all places, Haymitch headed for the piano. He pulled out the chair and took a seat, his face a distorted reflection in the shiny cherry wood. Effie just gaped. Her head whirl with questions. Questions and memories. Of Annie and Finn and a mountain air and Haymitch in a corner in the dead of night. Eyes vacant and with blood on his face. “Haymitch, don’t torture yourself.” “You worry too much, sweetheart. No need. I already do it for the both of us.” He lifted the lid. Revealed those rows of ebony black and cream white ivories, his face impossible to read. He rested his fingers on top of them. “Here goes.”. And he played a melody Effie had never heard before. Soft and gentle notes that picked up and grew, swelled, only to soften again. Happy notes and sad, all at the same time. The music washed through her, all around her, like a warm sea. Vibrant with life. The babies stirred within her, like they were just as curious, wondering what those sounds were. Where they came from. What was it? Another mountain air? An old ballad sung around the fire for as long as there lived people in Haymitch’s part of the world? She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and all at once she was five again, wobbling down Miri Road on her first bike. Father panted as he ran behind her, holding the saddle. “Not so fast!” mother called and wrung her hands. “You’ll hurt yourself! The dress was really expensive! Oh, why did I agree to this!? Young ladies shouldn’t ride bicycles!” “Let go, daddy!” Effie said, out of breath. “I can do it. Let go of me!” And all at once it was only her. Her and the bike and the road and the wind. “Look mommy! Daddy, look! Look what I can do!” And the image changed. Suddenly it wasn’t little Euphemia Trinket who rode a bike down Miri Road. It was her son and daughter. Their son and daughter. “Careful you two,” Haymitch called, hand pressed against the stitches in his side. High on her children’s happiness, Effie failed to muffle her chuckles and she steadied him before he collapsed. “Look mommy! Daddy, look!” Smiling through tears Effie opened her eyes she didn’t even realize she closed and watched Haymitch by the piano. It was like the years fell off him as he played. Like he was that boy again who won the second Quarter Quell. No, before that. A person who had never set his foot inside an arena. Effie played too, a little but not like this. Not nearly as well. Not even in the same neighborhood. And she only ever did it because her mother insisted. Because it was expected of a Capitol girl. Her heart was never in it. This was something else. Even a stranger could see this was not a person who played because he had to. The last brittle note faded into silence and Haymitch sat still. If Effie’s mind had been in the future, Haymitch’s was in the past. Even from this distance she could see his hands trembling. Then he turned and looked at her and she saw something that surprised her even more. Playing had flushed his cheeks. From grief and heartache but not only. There was something else there too. Like an after shake of an old joy. An old love, half forgotten. Effie occupied most of the couch so Haymitch sat down on the floor, arm slumped against the seat, their faces on the same level. “What was that?” she asked softly. Haymitch shrugged. “Just something I wrote. A long time ago.” He leaned into his palm and rested his free hand on her belly. “I think they liked it,” said Effie. “I know I did.” But it was like Haymitch didn’t even hear her. He brushed her stomach in soft strokes. He’d done so a lot lately, to his own surprise. It got easier and easier. Like all he had to do was give himself a little time to get used to it. It was an odd sort of craving and one he couldn’t be without. Effie brushed her fingers absent-mindedly against his hair, his neck. Just like in the old days. Way back in another time, another life. “I hope they take after you,” she said. “I hope they have your eyes, your hair, your smile, your heart. Your heart, most of all.” “God forbid,” Haymitch mumbled. “Nah, I’m just glad if they get my sense of fashion.” He brushed his fingertips just below her belly button. Felt something there. Like a rhythmic twitching. Too weak to be actual kicks. “What’re they up to now?” Effie smiled. “I’m afraid one of them’s got a case of the hiccups.” “Really?” He brushed his thumb soothingly up and down. “Sit on your head, have a drink.” “You did not just say that!” Effie chuckled. “What? Works every time.” They stirred underneath his palm while he spoke. He liked to think they knew he was here. Sensed it somehow. “What else can they do?” “Well,” said Effie. “They can dream.” “’bout what?” “What, indeed. And they recognize our voices.” “Both of us?” “Both of us.” He felt another little nudge. On impulse he leaned in and brushed his lips against her belly. Twice. It was the first time he ever did something like that but he knew in his heart that it wouldn’t be the last. When he looked back at Effie, their faces were so close their noses nearly touched. Her heart fluttered in her chest like it always did when she gazed into those kind, gray, beautiful eyes. “Hey,” he said. “That name you talked about. We can call her Amandalyn, if you want.” “Really?” “Yeah. My broth…” His voice faltered. “Name’s kinda been growing on me, you know. Besides, it’s like you said. It’s not like we’re ever gonna call her that. She’ll be Amy to everyone.” Effie smiled. “Then you must choose a name for our boy.” “Yeah? What if I pick something awful?” “You won’t,” she said and had barely finished the sentence before their lips met. Afterward, neither of them knew who initiated it. Which one of them moved in first. Like their pregnancy, it just happened. They fell into one another, as surely as a fork falls to the ground when you drop it. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” Haymitch mumbled, but the words were so weak it was pathetic. His hand which had rested on her tummy all this time moved up until he cupped her cheek. His body acted on its own now while his mind and reason took the backseat. Effie sighed with pleasure as he deepened the kiss and he saw his own lust reflected in her eyes. “Take me to bed.” It was so late. Effie’s room was full of shadows. He pulled her inside, their hands entwined like a pair of virgins on their wedding night. He only ever let go to make sure the curtains were pulled, the blinds shut. His heart beat so hard and thick it made him butter-fingered but none of those nosey neighbors would get a show from this house tonight. Effie stood where he left her, in the middle of the room. “No, keep it dark,” she said when he reached for the table lamp. Even in this dim light he caught her blush. “I don’t look the same anymore.” “I kinda figured that one out m’self, believe it or not.” “I mean, I’m all sweaty and… I have stretch marks and my legs… well, I haven’t been able to shave them properly … I c-can’t quite… reach…” She was stuttering for he had grasped her hand and pulled her to him. “Always so superficial.” Despite the hot flashes, her fingers were ice-cold. Clasped between his warm ones he brought them to his lips. Effie swallowed thickly, from the sweet desire those simple kisses evoked in her. “Come here, sweetheart.” He brushed a kiss to her hot cheek, so near his nose got smushed. Effie sighed and breathed in the scent of his skin that never failed to intoxicate her. Especially now, fresh from the shower. She snuggled against his chest, as close as her big belly allowed. He sought her lips in a deep kiss and she moaned. He’d always been the greatest kisser. Grounded by his steady arms, Effie buried her hands in those soft, brittle tresses of dirty blonde hair. Her dress loosened, pooled, swam on her as he tugged the zipper down. Effie groaned against his mouth and yet her hand pressed to her bosom, delaying the moment when the dress would drop to her ankles. Her face was red as a stop sign and she gazed up at him, almost apologetically. Afraid he’d mock her for being self-conscious or sigh in frustration. She wouldn’t bear it if he did either. He didn’t. Instead he took a little step back and started to unbutton his shirt. It was quick work since most buttons were already missing. He shouldered out of it and dropped it in the old rocking chair. His hands went to the waistband of those knotty old sweatpants. He always did killer double knots, impossible to undo even for her and he made the process short and just pulled his pants and underpants down in one go. Pushed the garment backward with a light foot. Mercy, he was fine, striking. Effie still held on to her dress but there wasn’t much strength left in her grip. Not with Haymitch standing there stark naked in front of her and she could see with her own eyes he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. He took her in his arms and when he kissed her this time she gave in to it, completely. She wound her arms around his neck, the dress pooled to the floor and she stepped out of it, safe in the knowledge he wouldn’t let her fall. It was the first time they ever undressed completely before they lay down on a bed. All to make it easier for Effie in her current condition. Haymitch drank in the sight of her. He couldn’t look away. Couldn’t keep his hands away. Everything about her was rounder now, heavier, softer. The curve of her hips, the swell of her belly, the shape of her breasts. He didn’t see anything he didn’t like. She was his Effie. Beautiful in a new and exciting way. The dull headache had diminished to almost nothing. Now all he wanted was her. The only crave stronger than his crave for a drink. He felt home. Out of the woods. Home. Still conscious of the two between them his hand found her tummy again. Tried to detect any sudden jerks or movements from freaked out twins. “Sure it’s safe?” he whispered, forehead against hers. “As long as you don’t put any pressure on my belly, we’re OK.” She brushed her lips against the hollow of his throat, feather-light and Haymitch screwed his eyes shut. She did that sometimes. Used to do, he should say. Kissed him and caressed him in his most exposed, tender places. You’d think after his time in the arena he wouldn’t like it. To be at someone’s mercy like that, in lack of a better word.

But like in so many other ways, Effie was the exception. With her, he let his guard down. Allowed himself to be vulnerable. That’s how he got his fucking heart crushed. And yet, here he was again. Doing the same thing. Memories preyed on his mind, called for attention. Memories of an icy platform. A train only minutes from departure. And Effie, her tummy still flat and with tears streaming down her face. But he brushed the image away, just like in the shower. He didn’t want to think about then. He didn’t want to think about later. All that mattered was now. Effie lay down on the bed and when he reached for the table lamp this time she didn’t stop him. Her hair fell in sandy waves over the pillow. She smiled at him, naked and rosy. “It’s not fair, sweetheart.” “What?” “Next to you I look like something the cat dragged in.” She laughed behind her hand and those little crow’s feet that he loved appeared by her eyes. “Then it’s a cat with excellent taste.” She pulled him to her and he crawled in with her, on top of her but still with plenty of space between them. He scooted lower, a little spooked they were actually four people in this room. “You OK in there?” he murmured, cheek against her tummy. “Maybe you two could just… look the other way for the next half hour or so? That’d be great.” Effie raked her fingers through his hair. Haymitch was the mother hen in this family, no doubt. But the smile soon melted from her face when she felt his hands on her. Those expert hands that could be just as rough as they were gentle and now tenderer than ever. Her socks were still on and Haymitch cupped her calf as he eased them off, one after another. He ran his fingers along the soft, blonde down on her leg. Effie opened her mouth but before she could say anything he dropped a kiss to her inner thigh and the words turned into a moan. “That OK?” “Yeah,” she nodded. These were the only moments she spoke in that manner, allowed herself such words. “Don’t stop.” He kissed her again, closer to his goal. Effie screwed her eyes shut. Groaned at the sensation of his stubble against the sensitive skin. He gave her knee a little nudge, to part her legs further and found no resistance there. “Ohh!” Effie pressed her knuckles into the headboard as the pleasure built. Haymitch’s face was now between her legs. She couldn’t quite see him, not with her belly in the way, but she felt it. What he was up to. “Oh, God!” He held on to her hip to ground himself and help his quest while his free hand roamed the curves of her body. He may not know his way around the Capitol but he knew his way around her. How to kiss her and where to kiss her, how to move his tongue and when to add more pressure, bringing her higher, higher, higher. She cried out in pleasure as the orgasm flooded her limbs, her brain, her whole being. Her legs quivered so badly it was a miracle she didn’t shake the bed loose. Her muscles contracted and Haymitch thrust his tongue in time with them. Added one delicious second to the next until she lay in the tangle of sheets, slack and limp and spent. “Goodness,” she panted and rested her palm against her forehead. It was slick with sweat. “You are certainly not rusty.” Haymitch wiped his mouth on the sheets and pulled himself up to her again, face to face. His hand went to her belly, first thing. “All good?” “All good.” But despite her words, the crease between Haymitch’s eyebrows deepened. “They’re kicking.” “Really?” Effie smiled. “Well, it’s good you’re here so I know these things.” “They’re kicking more than before. They know something’s up.” His face was marred in concern. “Maybe,” he said after a moment’s pause. “Maybe, we should just… leave it at this.” “What?” Effie chuckled. “Don’t you dare, Abernathy!” “They wonder what the fuck’s going on. Can’t you tell? I can’t traumatize them before they’re even...” “Haymitch,” she said, softer now. “They don’t know what we’re doing. They’re not freaking out. They’re well-cushioned. Even if you went all wild with me, which you won’t, to them it would only feel like they’re on a nice, bouncy boat ride. Why don’t you take your own advice and ease on the paranoia. Of course, I have to confess, it is rather cute that you’re so concerned.” “Course,” he muttered. “They’re my kids.” But he looked into her smiling face. The orgasm had flushed her chest all the way up to her cheeks. The dampness of her skin made her hair stick out in wispy little curls around her face. She looked so healthy. “Oh, sweetheart,” she mumbled in his hair when he dropped a kiss to her neck. If that word had come from anyone else or in any other situation it would only make him annoyed or embarrassed. But right here, right now, from Effie’s lips he found himself longing for her to say it again. Interacting with the babies had made him lose his hardon but as he kissed his way across Effie’s body - different and yet so familiar, it didn’t take long before he lit up again. She could never quell his desire, no matter what she looked like. It was silly of her to ever doubt it. For once, they took it slow. Her pregnancy forbade all the rougher ways they enjoyed in the past. Back in the day when they turned each other on so much, sometimes they didn’t even bother with all their clothes or made it to the bed before they were at it. Now he had to be gentle with her and to his own surprise he didn’t mind it. Not even a little. “Are you going to kiss all of me?” Effie smiled when he brushed one just above her hip and moved onward along her swelling side. All her embarrassment and self-consciousness were gone. How could she ever feel anything but worshipped when he kissed her like that, touched her like that. Each time his lips brushed against her skin sweet, warm tingled spread throughout her body, until she swam in a pool of pleasure all over again. “Come here,” she sighed. He moved in her and it was slow and rhythmic and quiet but not any less intense. His lips tingled from all the kisses. What would they look like tomorrow? But he immediately cut that string of thoughts. No tomorrow. If it was the pregnancy that made Effie extra sensitive or the long foreplay or maybe because she had thirsted for him just as much as he had for her, he couldn’t say, but she was coming again, mere minutes in. Usually he needed his fingers for aid to make her come so fast but not this time. Eyes screwed tight, lips fever hot, she climaxed for the second time. Haymitch almost followed right at her heels but at the last moment he managed to hold it in. God, she felt good. He thrust himself into her and tried to think of something disgusting to keep from doing the very thing he wanted. Effie felt him holding back and she was of no help whatsoever. She only skimmed her hand over his ass and gave it a soft squeeze, right in time with his next thrust. Haymitch sucked in a breath. “Careful.” “Come in me,” was all she said. A sigh in his ear. “You can’t make me pregnant this time.” The comment really shouldn’t add to his arousal but he was powerless against it. Maybe because it reminded him of that particular time. Best sex he ever had! Haymitch gritted his teeth until they hurt. Fought the urge that was as old as time itself. He wanted to make it last. He could last, just a little while longer. Maybe make her come a third time. But again he didn’t anticipate Effie. Her hand which had been stationed on his ass this whole time moved in between his legs to his testicles which had already tightened for the inevitable release. Before he knew it she gave them just a little tug. And he was screwed. What little shred of self-control he’d mustered shattered in a second. The pleasure hit him like an avalanche. Yes! he wanted to cry as the semen streamed out through him in waves that felt so good he damn near passed out and No! he wanted to scream, all at the same time. Because he didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want it to be over. But it did end. Like all good things. They lay on their backs, side by side. Both out of breath, hair on end. Haymitch’s heartbeat slowed from racing to normal and with each second that passed the unhappier he got until he felt like someone had shot a hole right through his chest. A car rolled past outside the windows. The head lights sailed over the ceiling. It was like a reminder. With the blinds shut and Effie in his arms he could almost pretend they were really in Twelve. But they weren’t. He was far from home. The sweat cooled in no time at all and he gathered Effie in bed. If only to warm himself a little. He spooned her like so many times before and still never once quite like this. He held his family in his arms and yet he’d never felt more alone. “Promise me, Haymitch,” Effie whispered. Tendrils of sleep tried to pull her under but she fought it. “Just one thing.” “What?” he mumbled in her hair. “Don’t be wasted when you see them.” She knew then. Of course she did. Between his rationing and sneaking and chewing breath mints til he puked she still knew exactly what was going on. Probably had from the beginning. And she asked nothing of him. Just this one thing. “I promise.” xXx Effie felt like she only just shut her eyes when she drifted back into consciousness. Nothing less than she expected. A night when the twins didn’t wake her at least once these days was an odd thing. She kept a journal over every kick and stir so she knew their schedule rather well and after her and Haymitch’s recent activities it shouldn’t come as a surprise that they were extra lively. Still only half-awake Effie rolled over to her other side, searching Haymitch. The bed was cold. With some difficulty she propped herself up and switched the lamp on, squinting in the sudden light. Alone. Even all their clothes which had littered the floor were gone. She found hers folded in the old armchair but Haymitch had just dressed and left. She didn’t have to look at the clock to tell it was still very late. Or very early depending on how you saw it. She crossed the room naked and pulled the dress over her head. Leaned back against the old apple tree, Haymitch brought the bottle to his lips. He stared at the shrivel of a moon, reflected in the pond. The only light in a black sky. The wind rustled through the branches which only weeks earlier were in full bloom, snowing apple blossoms over anyone who passed under it. Or sat under it. It was a warm night. Still and silent. Even here. Even now. He only ever looked up when the door opened and Effie appeared. Just like he knew she would. In her morning gown and pink slippers, her face framed by a disarray of strawberry blonde hair. Big and heavy with his children. Pretty as a picture. “You OK?” She remained by the threshold, unsure if he wanted to be left alone or not. The night was so quiet you could hear the slosh of liquor when Haymitch tipped the bottle up. “Why don’t you come back to bed?” He wanted to. Truly he did. More than ever before. Back to bed. Back in her arms. But he didn’t say it. Because he hadn’t changed. Their problems were still there. Still the same. He knew how this story ended and he wouldn’t survive losing her a second time. “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “About last night.” Effie didn’t speak. Not even to point out technically it was still last night. She only waited. “I think it’s best if it doesn’t happen again. Things are complicated enough as it is.” “Oh,” she said. “Well… I suppose you’re right.” They lapsed into silence. For almost a full minute. Effie’s gaze went to his hand. The one not holding a bottle. “What’s that?” was all she could think of to say. Haymitch held up the hardback. Turned it over, like he only just noticed it. It was one of the baby name books. “I think I found one,” he said. “A name for the boy.” “Oh?” “Yeah. How about ‘Ian’?” “Ian,” said Effie slowly, like tasting it. “It means ‘gift’. According to the book.”

“Ian.” And slowly a smile spread across Effie’s face. ”Yes,”  she said. “Yes. Ian Trinket Abernathy, that’s our son.” Haymitch put the bottle aside and offered her his hand. With the tree trunk for added support Effie lowered herself down next to him on the grass. Haymitch put his arm around her and she leaned into his side. “You never told me it was a wishing pond,” he said and nodded toward the water. Even in this scarce light you could still spot the silver and copper coins at the muddy bottom. “Made many wishes here?” “You don’t even know.” June, Annabel and Effie got most of his Games winnings these days but he kept some to pay for cheap liquor and breath mints. And sure enough. When he got his hand out of his pocket he was holding two coins.

He didn’t believe in it. Wishes never came true. Not really. And yet he held them on his palm while he made his and tossed them in to the pond. One for Amy and one for Ian.

Author’s note: Haymitch and Effie are a couple of sweet idiots, aren’t they? They want the same things, they’re on the same road and yet they just keep driving past each other. What do you think/hope will happen next? Leave a comment and tell me your thoughts! By the way, if you liked the song Haymitch played for Effie, you can listen to it for real. It’s called “Daydreaming” by Luke Faulkner.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 12: Betray - Sinners Are We Chap.4: The Golden Princess

Little Dove takes her first steps in walking beside mortals and a lot of people plot, particularly Orrin.

Leaving the Keep had been hardly difficult to do for Orrin, Dove hadn’t seemed to even understand what was going on. She also didn’t seem to mind the quaint brick house in one of the more deserted areas. Really it just seemed she wanted her plushie. Children. Though he certainly wasn’t like this in the slightest.

Setting up a proper food supply and figuring out how to get Dove some form of a social circle were the next tasks on the list. The first was pathetically easy, but he supposes it should be. If it was too difficult for the living to get food they died. As for the second, his only experience with socialising like a mortal was talking to passerby’s, speaking in lines, and the occasional concert. Those were not really well suited for a child. He does remember mother and father complaining about ‘school’ but sending her off to some building with other children on her own was actively asking to get found out. Very actively. That was precisely the risky move he’d expect out of brother, which of course means it would not be expected out of him. Which means that if this whole idea of his got sniffed out by mother and father then they would laugh at him doing something so far out of his expected behaviours. Which could save him from a more genuine shit-kicking. He rather didn’t feel like being holed up in bed for a week with all his bones broken and skinned. Besides, he could do that ‘volunteering’ thing to keep an eye on her.

-

Dove has very little clue what’s going on but the walls texture feels really cool and the eating stuff bro brings is weird and smelly, but shiny red and very round. Shiny is nice and It fits nicely in her hands, though it’s so squishy. She can tell it would take so little to smush it up.

Her hands also look weird, not like they usually did when they weren’t glowy. Bro looks weird too, so it must be alright. Oh, and her nails were pink, which is exactly why she licks them a little. Maybe they would taste different too. They don’t. But that’s okay.

Looking to bro and moving over when he makes that hand motion that means he wants her. Curious and hopeful. Maybe they were doing something fun again. She wouldn’t mind that. “Now listen close Dove, we’re around mortals. Yes the living kind. So it is rather imperative that you refrain from using your abilities. Understand?”. She tilts her head and hums, not sure what some of those words mean. But it sounds important and she wouldn’t want to make bro sad. So she nods a little.

Bro frowns slightly, Dove doesn’t really notice. “You didn’t understand what I just said, did you”, and sighs when she shakes her head a little. “No floating or anything. The living can’t do that and we’re pretending to be on of them”. Oh, they were playing pretend? That could be nice. So she nods softly. “You’ll even get to meet other girls your age”. Now that makes her curious. Maybe they were pretty and liked fluffy things. She liked fluffy things. And small things. And big things. And sharp things. She liked a lot of things. Littler bro liked dark things and smooth things. Bigger bro liked loud things that made messes. Pa liked funny things and surprising things. Ma liked metal that made things fly really fast.

So she nods again and happily walks after bro as they leave the small house place.

-

Orrin finds the volunteering to be rather lacklustre, but it serves his purpose. Watching Dove run around and play with the plastic animal things. At least children didn’t give a damn that she never spoke, even if one of the other ‘volunteers’ was certainly giving him an odd look over that. “She’s not much of a talker”, was all the explanation he had given, as if he even needed to explain in the first place. All in all, this ‘school’ thing seemed like it might just work out.

In fact, it might work out better than he could have foreseen. One of the other children’s mothers was part of one of those underground resistances. He personally liked to keep tabs on such things. If his parents ever got genuinely mad at him then he could simply nonchalantly expose one of the resistances to get back into their ‘good books’ again. But here and now he had a much better use for them. A much more interesting one to say the least. After all, he’s already encountered a few of its members and had a few choice conversations with them. He was likely already on their list as a ‘potential ally’ or even ‘potential member’. Resistances were always so eager to snag up new members. He can appreciate the tenacity. Even if most of them will likely die painful deaths sooner rather than later.

-

Dove likes the small lady, Remi, who likes birds the best, and she liked Dove’s name. Or the name bro said was her name, Robin. It wasn’t hers but it was a nice name and much easier than her bro’s. Bro also seems to like Remi, with how he was looking at her with a small grin and wrinkled eyes. That does make her a little cautious though, people usually got hurt when bro looked at them like that. Or he was just planning to scare them a little. Scaring was funny, but the other she doesn’t really like. The reds and greens were pretty and sweet; but the person was always gone after that. That’s the part she didn’t like. People were pretty and they couldn’t be pretty if they were gone. She hopes Ori doesn’t make Remi go.

So when the adult lady says it’s time to go, Dove goes over and pushes his face to stop smiling and turns his head to look away. That just makes him smile in the wide mean way, which she huffs and puffs her cheeks out over. Least he wasn’t looking at Remi that way. But it looks like he might know Remi’s ma, so maybe that’s why he was smiling. How sweet.

She pays more attention to making sure Remi’s hair scrunchie things are on the most perfectly than the two talking.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter, Lark”.

“What can I say, I’m a surprising guy”.

“What’s her name? Remi seems to like her. She seems... really gentle”, laughing a little, “Remi’s not so gentle”.

“Robin. And she’s always been like that, has quite the delicate touch I dare say”.

The lady laughs a little again, “does everyone in your family have bird-related names”.

“I have a sister named Raven. So you could say it’s a running theme”.

“Why am I not surprised. Anyway-”. The conversation got real quiet after that, not that Dove couldn’t easily hear. Even pa pointed out how much better halfa and ghost hearing was than mortal. And all these people were for sure mortal, smelled it. Which was cool and they were so soft and squishy. She thinks she likes these ones even more than the ones at home. “-interested in a play date of sorts”. Dove likes that idea, she likes playing, but the hair thingies still need her attention; sticking her tongue out a little.

“Oh? And where would be the location we would be gracing”. Glancing at bro shows he’s doing that smiling again. She doesn’t know what’s going on but whatever it is bro likes it. And she likes that he likes things, so long as those things don’t have to go goodbye. That makes her kind of... sad.

“No where special”. Even Dove knows that tone means it is somewhere special. Sweet, she likes special things. She knows bro does too, because special things are usually secret things and he loves finding secret things and having secret things. Just like them being here was supposed to be a secret thing. No ma and pa allowed.

“Well I certainly couldn’t turn down an offer like that, now could I”. Dove hums happily as she gets the hair things just right. Wiggling her fingers over them like she sprinkling sparkles, before pushing her gently over to her ma. Because look how pretty she is? She is very pretty.

The lady looks from bro to them, “my, Remi I don’t think I’ve seen your hair ever look so perfect”, and smiles. Dove and Remi smiling right back. Bro is just giving her that weird look that he sometimes does. The one that makes her think that he thinks that she’s weird. Like when she keeps her dollies from getting hurt or puts sprinkles on her food. Bro just doesn’t get it she thinks. Food tastes better when it’s pretty and her dollies might get sad if she didn’t save them.

“Yes it’s very... well done”. The lady looks at him like he’s the weird one so he shrugs, “I’m not the most versed in little girl things”.

The lady points at him, “that’s it, you’re definitely coming for a play date one way or another”.

Bro just raises an eyebrow, “I have already agreed you know”. Which the lady chuckles over. Pa would like her, she laughs a lot.

The lady looks to Remi, “would you like that sweetie? Having Robin here come over to play?”. Remi quickly nods and wraps her arms around Dove. Which Dove decides she really really likes. “Uh-huh uh-huh! Can she please!”. Dove’s never heard that word before. “Then I can put pretty things in her hair!”. Dove likes that idea very much and nods softly to show it.

The lady looks to bro, whispering, “look, their hugging. Or Remi’s hugging anyway”, before nodding at Remi, “of course sweetie”. Which Remi cheers over and squeezes her tighter.

Hugging. That’s what this is called? She likes it very much. She tries doing it back, no squeezing though; she wouldn’t want to break her. And grins, she likes hugging a lot.

-

Orrin hadn’t intended for this to make her even more gentle and soft, that or she was incredibly aware how breakable the living were. Why you could pick them up and they’d just snap in half. She really seems to enjoy the hugging thing though. Having hugged him repeatedly since. That was making Rio suspicious though, her glancing to him after they walk through a door in a tree and let the two girls run off, or in Dove’s cautiously prance would be a better word choice. “She seems to really like hugs. Excuse my rudeness but it didn’t seem like she knew what a hug was until just now”.

Orrin has two options presented before him right now. He could choose some level of honesty and claim that her father wasn’t exactly good and he only recently got her. Or he could just brush it off as her being unusual. But there rises the issue of the living being perceptive to that which is unlike them. While if he uses the first one then he will seem like a ‘sympathetic character’ which may prove more useful in the long run. Actions decided he sighs to make this seem more genuine, “family isn’t the kindest, let’s put it that way. She’s only with me here recently. Today actually”.

Rio’s eyebrows raise and he gets that sad smile he was aiming for, “oh I see”, then she actually looks a bit mad, “wait. So you didn’t even hug her when she showed up?”, and promptly slaps him. Which he seriously has to restrain from ripping her eyes out for.

And he does effectively keep the snarl out of his voice, the venom? not so much, “I’m not a hugger”.

“She’s a child”.

Orrin has never really appreciated Dove’s nativity before now as she runs over and basically halts the conversation. Her having a great many bow clips in her blonde -thanks to his glamour- hair. Is this really what regular little girls liked? Apparently yes, based on her bouncing on her toes faintly. At least she wasn’t trying to float.

Rio still throws him a glare as they take the girls to the ‘play den’ area. Meaning it was time to get down to business.

-

A few weeks go by, and it was becoming incredibly easy to tell who in this city knew about this particular resistance movement. Because suddenly he was some to be respected, which he can’t say he didn’t enjoy. To be treated like an important figure without that lingering fear in their eyes was certainly a new experience for Orrin. Does he prefer it? Not particularly. But he was a Gray-Phantom after all. Him not preferring fear and destruction would be strange. It was still interesting all the same. And it’s not like the group's plan and leadership was all that bad, it seemed better than most at least. Of course they had precisely zero hope of actually doing away with his family, but hey, the genuine effort was amusing. They weren’t even intending to bank everything on just one plan or one plan and a back up either. Oh no, they had a handful they wanted to enacted simultaneously. Which wasn’t actually a horrid plan. Mother could be quite narrow-minded and father easily distracted; and his brother of course was a fool. One of their plans even involved trying to blow up the Ghost Realm, and the bomb designs, that he invisibly sneaked a peek at, would actually be somewhat effective. Impressive actually. Russet would get a real kick out of it. But the group was banking a little too much on his father actually highly valuing his role as High Ghost King. Thinking he would defend the Ghost Realm just like that. His parents didn’t get their positions because they genuinely wanted them. No. They took them purely because they could. It also making them, especially father, stronger was a nice added bonus.

The rest of their plans were far less extreme and ranged from everything from: kidnapping the princess, which he had to resists murdering the lot of them for seriously suggesting, to reconstructing an ancient method of ghost mind control, not realising that that wouldn’t actually work on the high royal family. There had also been talks about turning the mortal knights that served his family, even claimed they already had turned one. But one look at him and it was obvious that was a load of crap and the guy was absolutely going to betray them. Which didn’t work so well for Orrin’s plans, which meant the knight had been promptly fed to a pack of wild bores. Then there was the plot to mind control the entire species of Drugandons and use them as an army to lay siege to the Keep. The sheer amount of chaos that would cause had him practically salivating. Oh yes, these mortals were fun.

Of course none of their plots would actually work on their own or even together. But it did have the highest possibility of any resistance group he’s encountered. And if they did go ahead like this, then plenty of ghosts would jump on board in a heartbeat. Which meant the chances of Russet getting himself destroyed would be incredibly high. And if Orrin himself were to back them, then it would be almost possible that his parents could genuinely maybe be taken out. Which would, of course, leave the throne to him.

Now he’s not particularly the power-hungry type. He doesn’t really give a damn about being High King. But it could be quite interesting. And if this group tried all this, managed to kill his elder brother, then his parents would rain-down absolute Hell. It would be nothing compared to the massacres of previous years or even their debut as monsters. It would be a sight to behold. Glorious even.

Orrin thinks he would rather like to see that. But he also knows exactly how that would go, which did take some of the fun out of it. Meanwhile, Dove becoming a figurehead for resistance was unprecedented. He could hardly predict the ways that could turn out. And Dove certainly enjoyed Remi’s company. Which was a bonus.

Another bonus was picking up on brother dearests ghostly aura a day back and successfully keeping both himself and Dove out of Russet’s awareness. Tricking that man was always a true pleasure. Regardless of how easy it generally was to do.

One thing he hadn’t accounted for though, was human stupidity.

But really? He shouldn’t have been surprised that things went to shit pretty rapidly. Gray-Phantom’s had horrid luck after all.