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just-pineapple-responses · 4 years

Note

Just curious, how many shower thought (response) blogs are there? I just dived into this side of tumblr (not gonna make any posts its fun to read though) and I'm already losing my mind

Well there is

The. Literal. Sun.

Plasma...

S p a c e

ALL HAIL THE LIGHT

The void. It shall consume ALL.

A typewriter incase anyone wants to write their will before they die

Also some ink, not related to the typewriter

Also some words, I wonder who'll use them

A hat with no maker and a maker with no hat

The pen is mightier than the sword. It just so happens that this one is evil. Luckily I can summon multiple

Anyone order some coffee?

Ooo, an author

The literal embodiment if of fanart

A fork, nom noms

B҉ r҉ o҉ k҉ e҉ n҉

Soap

Soap(for hair)

Toothpaste

🄵🄰🅄🄲🄴🅃

Towel

Bath mat

Washcloth

Bathtub

Bathwater

𝔹𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕓𝕠𝕞𝕓

Bubblebath!

One (1) bath boi

Some M͓̽o͓̽l͓̽d͓̽ (anybody got some strong disinfectant?)

Nvm, the mold has already caused a plague (gettit?) (although user misspelled it)

Nevermind, there's already a parasite here

Mirror

Door!!!

Some curtains

A denim jacket

Blackout

Rainbow

✨ Magic ✨

*Tree poses to assert dominance*

Coconut

(obviously me)

I think popeye dropped a tin of spinch and it became sentient?

Tost

Hummus. dip tost?

Criss Cross applesauce

Wibbly wobbly Wibbly wobbly jellyo

Mmmm océan s o u p

Some poison, a great addition for my soup

Smol bean

Potat

Shower magpie who I haven't seen in a while

Bird (brain)

Frog(×2:Electric Boogaloo)

An axolotl!

Ferret

*looks at smudged writing on hand. Squints. * a raccoon

Stinky bastard man (I just had to put the two next to each other)

Rat.

Becometh crab 🦀 (x2: Electric Boogaloo)

Nya~

Edgy Nya~

Tripod of dog

Brain

Nina i found one of your neurons (if you understand this reference, good job you)

A rotted brain, keep it away before it infects us all, I only have 2 braincells left

Did... Did someone drop their spinal cord?

The almighty binch

The titanic

Narrator

Water based introspection

Existential crisis

Dumbass

Also a pacifier (get it because they're also called dummies and their name is dummy)

A foolish thought to say a sorry sight join the shower community (as you can tell we did Shakespeare in English so many times i pretty much can recite everything lady macbeth said)

ADHD

Ominous

Anonymous

Anxious 🥺👉👈

Some edgy bastard

A person of culture I see (although obsessed with tweed for some reason)

1 Dapper boi

Sarcastic

nice

All smiles and sunshine

HAPPY! (why isn't there yellow 😔)

Affection (Derogatory) (I'm sorry I just felt like it)

~Petty~

Idiot

Disaster

Chaos and Order

Comebacks

'vanishing'

Defences

Threatened

Op is on drugs

All the F s

And F-general

Get out of the shower

Shower responses

Dry

The horny and the simp

Shower sins

Thower shoughts

I take quick showers

Shower thots

Last responder *countdown music*

You have shower thoughts?

Your shower thoughts are stupid

Wtf shower thoughts

Another shower responder

Just shower responses... responses

Response shower

NO SHOWER! only thought (×3)

Mmm, showery

Penny for your thoughts?

Hello darkness my old friend...

Llawyer

Beepbeep

Prussia

Haywire!!!

furry OwO

A Pigeon got in through the door, who left it open?

I'm feeling devious

You're looking glamorous, let's get mischievous, and polyamorous

Gay is stored in the ass

Gay

Trans

*opens door and walks through with you exaggeratedly* Fellas we got the whole LGBTQIA+ community right here

Enby

Hahaha gender go brrr

Lesbian

Lesbian-thot

Lust

Someone who thinks it funny to clown around

Joker (derogatory)

Haha straight

Dead inside

Some supervillain idk

News. Literally a shower news style responses

I cannot believe that I forgot Her Greatest Majesty, the Queen. All Hail Royal

Isaac newton?

M megamind?

Fiftieth

Crackhead

Some Phoenix Wright kinnie

What is a Dean Winchester and why does he have a tentacle fetish?

Well well well, if it ain't a homestuckian

Did someone kill/rob The Doctor or something, their TARDIS was left behind and its blocking my pretzels that I left in the shower

Mined crafts uwu

Well well well, if it ain't- *accidentally makes eye contact and is then killed by some unknown shadowy creature holding what seems to be some sort of cube of dirt*

GOTTA GO FAST

Mishamishamishamishamishamishamisha

Gen Z and ready to throw hands with OP

Not puki

Nom noms

Dip dap

Kensa

B͓̽u͓̽n͓̽g͓̽e͓̽r͓̽ ..........

Someone broke their space bar or something

It's time to d-d-d-d-d-dshower

The magical deity of sleepovers

DON'T FALL ASLEEP. NO MATTER WHAT THEY TELL YOU-

The muffin man genuinely left drury Lane for this

Txmblr

Moonlit nights on a winters day, stars glimmering gently

A child?

🟥

The fae. Just all of them. Every single one.

Crocus? (What on earth does that mean)

*sings* baba blacksheep have you any wool? Because if not you will be killed (this fits the tune perfectly. If not I have failed in everything)

The theatre itself is here... Somehow

Ahoy-hoy

boo

REEEE- *epic geometry dash gameplay to DanTDM's old intro music*

Yardale, not to be mistaken for riverdale and differs to lawn ale or front porch ale or even meter ale

I'll finish this list later

It's gonna be a long one folks

I'm including a ones that haven't spoken since ages ago because

Boy howdy there's new ones tell me who I'm missing now

Please stop thank you very much this is too many i keep having to add to this any new responder must kill a responder to continue the purge shall claim y'all as I will win i recently started watching Danganronpa

Seriously though everyone after mirror must have a battle royale it's too much i doubt all of you will even last longer than today also happy birthday me -dated:28th- do you even realise what sort of commitment you've made to sell pieces of your soul for entertainment and ability to make such epic retorts each and every post?! I sacrifice many souls DAILY to be throwing such bangers into this stuff y'know?

We have a tap guys we can finally wash our hands of all the blood of our enemies

Seriously though who left the door open I don't want a Pigeon pecking at me (the mishapocalypse got them lol)

So many responders so little time before the end of the world

If I'm missing someone please tell me very thank

There are not enough colours for me to assign a different one to each person 😔 also, wtf is on there twice on purpose

WorldHealthOrganisation IS MISSING (note: you may have a joke in place of name or under a category of names)

So there's lore without me?

ALL HAIL THE LIGHT *moth noises*

Okay now there's alternate timeline versions of responders for the benefit of myself they ain't going on the list bud

There is an incorrect role play blog quotes blog and I am crying. Not of laughter. Just wiuwhdhsjhshjxjabjsjdhdjsj

If any new people join I will go back to causing shower wars for the sake of killing you all I'm done I have snapped my laptop is updating 3 times in a row

I will commit crimes.

Does being a shower responder or role-playing seem encouraging to people to join this "community"? Because I'm pretty sure it's the latter

#ShowerThoughts blogs #Asks #As you can see I'm trying to organise in order of inanimate to animal to concepts to water else #*whatever else #And now rp blogs wow

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sidespart · 4 years

Text

The Fall of King Romulus Part 3

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Remus. Remus, Remus, Remus.

The mad Prince of Notaleveale.

Remus was coming here. Remus was coming to Steveange and if Romulus saw him-

Roman had to leave.

Which was easier said than done; when the streets were crowded with hoards of shoppers and revellers all pressing against him, blocking his path, stealing the air out of his lungs-

“Roman!”

He needed to go. He need to find Virgil and Patton in whatever rooms they’d managed to find, collect his belongings and-

No. That would take too long – he could replace the clothes and books, he already had his sword-

“Roman, what’re you-”

- but he needed his lute. To make any kind of living he had to be able to perform. It was the only thing he was good at and once he’d got away he’d be -

He could do it. He’d run away before. He survived alone, without anyone, he could do it again and-

“Roman! Stop!”

He stopped.

Logan. Heading towards him. But he hadn’t given a time frame and if Roman grit his teeth and pushed past the spike of pain he could start to move again in just a second-

“Wait!”

Dammit.

Roman waited. Fists clenched by his side, until Logan was next to him.

“Roman.”

His chest was tight. His brain wasn’t -wasn’t working right and Logan looked so odd, with his glasses askew and his face flushed – had he been running?

“I thought I saw Patton.” Roman blurted.

It was the first excuse that popped into his head and it was clearly not – not good enough. Logan was frowning at him, a pinched expression, studying him like an experiment and-

Roman hated him, suddenly.

Logan was an upstart swot with ideas above his station and a chip on his shoulder. He poked and prodded and lost them jobs with his terse words and his better than you attitude. He reminded Roman of the tutors who snap at him for his lack of understanding and bark orders for him to recite, repeat, remember, to be better, smarter, stronger: someone worthy of his title.

He reminded him most of all of Julius. His fathers closest advisor, who had been charged with unravelling the Princes’ curses. He was the one who had helped Romulus learn how to push against his curse. He would give him orders that were almost impossible to follow and watch with cold eyes as Romulus struggled to disobey. Together they’d categorised how much pain he could withstand, what orders could be navigated and misinterpreted and which ones he was truly helpless against.

Once, he’d bid Romulus to stand on one leg. And left him there until his muscles started to cramp and shake, waiting to see if gravity or the curse was stronger. Romulus had been in tears by the end. Had even wondered, briefly, about complaining to his parents. But is was such a silly, innocuous order compared to other experiments. What had truly upset him was how Julian had just stood there, not speaking, his eyes distant and cold and calculating as he noted down every twitch and whimper from the boy. Even when he circled him, Romulus could feel those eyes boring into the back of his neck like a-

“Princey.”

Roman blinked. Julius’ practice room disappeared, replaced with the sights and sound of the Steveange street. Logan was in front of him and his eyes were far from cold. When he spoke it was with the same gentle tone that Roman had heard him use when Virgil’s worries overwhelmed him or when Patton woke from a nightmare and didn’t know where he was.

“Did the cro- the woman. Did she say something to you?” Logan was holding his hand. Gently but firmly, he tugged at Romans tightly clenched fingers, encouraging them to unfurl. Roman stared uncomprehendingly at the deep crescent marks he’d made in his palm.

Slowly, Logan released his right hand and reached for his left, repeating the process.

Roman felt shame ripple through him.

Logan wasn’t Julius. Logan would never push him so far he broke.

Logan was his friend and Roman has made him worry with his silly behaviour and his slapdash lie. But he could fix it.

He forced a smiled. Flexed his fingers and straightened up his full height. Made a show of looking around him.

“I swear I saw him. Big man, big sword, big smile – he’s hard to mistake!”

Hesitantly, Logan glanced around too before quickly refocusing on Roman.

“Are you sure you –“

“Ah well, the mind plays trick I suppose – must be hunger getting to me, speaking of which…”

Roman reached forward and deftly snatched the bag from Logan's grasp, reaching in blindly and shoving the first pastry he found into his mouth.

“Mmmm so good!” He beamed at Logan with berry stained teeth, flakes of pastry flying through the air. “Aren’t you going to have one?”

Logan stared at him. Roman kept his smile sweet and his eyes clear. He held up the bag and wiggled it enticingly.

Hesitantly, Logan took the bag and selected a tart. Keeping his eyes on the bard the entire time, he ate his treat with much more refinement then Roman had shown. “Holding back?” Roman asked, teasing, “I’ve seen you eat jam before, there’s no point pretending to have table manners now.”

Logan just hmphed but his shoulders relaxed slightly and Roman decided to take that as a victory. “We should get going” Roman said and started walking, Logan easily falling into step beside him.

The streets were crowded enough that none of the sellers seemed to feel the need to call to Roman specifically, and so this time he was free to investigate the stalls he was actually interested in.

But instead he stayed by Logan's side

Logan was a good friend. For all he claimed to lack an understating of emotional nuances he was letting Roman have his space. He’d even distracted him earlier, when his biggest concern had been the a spike of homesickness after meeting their northern customer.

He was nothing like Julius.

Roman was going to miss him so much.

***

Roman kept up his performance of normality all the way back to the main square, where they had agreed to meet the others once their mission was done. The sky was beginning to turn dark by the time they got there, though it was easy enough to navigate from the sheer number of stalls still in operation, each one boasting its own selection of colourful lanterns.

“This is fantastic!” Roman gasped theoretically, spinning on one foot to take in the whole spectacle.

“It’s a fire hazard.” Logan muttered with a frown.

They found Virgil waiting for them by the central fountain. He had manged to find a seat on the fountains edge but was wedged between two young couples who had clearly taken the romantic festival atmosphere to heart. The healer’s shoulders were up by his ears and his cloak was wrapped so tightly around himself it looked constricting. When he saw them he sprang to his feet so quickly he almost knocked one of the young ladies into the water.

“Took you two long enough.”

Roman and Logan glanced at each other.

“Logan got lost-”

“Roman kept wandering off.”

“-We brought you baked goods!”

Virgil took one of the two remaining pastries with minimal grumbling and led them out of the square. They took the north east road, a path that curved its wary upwards into the higher levels of the city. Here the buildings were all built of a blush-pink marble that sparkled in the evening twilight. The streets were wide, with neatly arranged flowerbeds and street lights which had the steady glow of Arkazeii glow lamps rather than the flicker of oil. There were certainly no traders spread out on blankets. Logan looked distinctly unimpressed.

“Was this inn you found an…economical choice?”

“It was a ‘the whole town’s rammed and this was the only place with a room left’ choice.” Virgil snarked “and don’t worry – its one room for all four of us with no breakfast included, if you were worried about getting too… bourgeoisie…or whatever."

Logan raised his hands for peace.

“I’m sure you did the best you could.”

“Well …we were lucky.” Virgil told him, and then glanced over at Roman, his lip twitching.

“Apparently they give discounts to performers.”

***

The inn was certainly a cut above their normal haunts. With brightly painted walls almost obscured by well pruned climbing plants, outdoor seating, and a wrought iron gate leading to spacious stables behind the building. Even the doors were of better quality then your typical village tavern – made of wood heavy enough to make a satisfying crash when Roman stormed in.

The room was crowded, but Patton really was hard to miss. Roman shoved his way through to the back table where the big man sat waiting. Leaving other customers cursing in his wake.

‘Hey kiddo!’ Patton greeted him with a wide smile “Did you-“

“Key.” Roman snarled.

Patron blinked and him, shock writ large on his face. “Sorry?”

“The key. To my room. Give it.” Roman snapped. “It is mine right? Since you seem happy to pimp me out in exchange for-“

“Hey!” That would be Virgil. Roman half thought he had left both men behind in his rage after Virgil’s little announcement, but the elf at least seemed to have kept up. He’d reached the table just in time to hear the start of Roman’s rant. “What the hell is your problem Princey?”

“My problem? Oh I’m sorry, I’M not the one signing other people up to sing for their supper without permission Virgil.”

“You like singing for your – we thought you’d want to!”

“Well it would have been nice to have a choice!”

“Virgil. Roman.” That was Logan, it had taken longer for the shorter man to force his way through the crowd but he wasted no time now in inserting himself into Romans business. “whatever this is… it’s not about putting on a show.”

He turned to the other two. Virgil scowling, Patton wide eyed.

“He had an…episode in the market.”

“Excuse me?” Roman shouted.

“Roman, whatever disturbed you, you practically ran away.”

“Well perhaps I had simple grown tired of looking at your face? Had you considered that?”

He turned his back to Logan, rounding on Patton again: “Now, give me the-“

Patton already had his hand out, wrought iron key resting loosely in his palm.

“We’re on the fourth floor.” he said calmly as Roman snatched it from him. “First door once you get up the stairs.” Roman spun on his heel only to find Virgil blocking his path.

“Move.” Roman hissed.

“What is wrong with you?” Roman narrowed his eyes. Virgil looked angry. Looked one second away from telling him to sit down, shut up, stop causing a fuss. He wondered if he could get past him without using his sword.

“I’ll bring you up some food in a bit,” Roman blinked glancing back at Patton, startled. The warrior still hadn’t moved from the table - admittedly no easy task in the cramped corner- and was looking at him calmly.

“I don’t want anything” Roman muttered, sullen.

“But you might later.” Patton smiled at him. Not knowing how to respond Roman turned back to Virgil. The elf glanced between the two, chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, before sighing and stepping to the side. Not fast enough to prevent Roman from knocking his shoulder with his own as he pushed past however.

It wasn’t as satisfying as he hoped.

At a guess, the room was normally meant for storage not guests. Two rickety looking beds had been shoved in, so close together they might as well have been one. There was one small table forced between the end of one bed and the wall, with a basin of water perched on top. Someone, presumably Patton, had organised their bags neatly at the end of the beds. Roman’s was at the far end, closest to the window. Then Patton, then Virgil with Logan closest to the door, next to the only built in shelf where a candle had been left for the night. Roman would be able to wake with the dawn, as he liked to do, and Logan would have light for the longest to stay up and read.

Romans lute was not on the floor with his pack. Instead he found in had been placed on the bed itself, propped up on his pillow, away from any potential harm.

Whatever righteous anger he had been able to hang on too as he stomped upstairs dropped out of him now like a stone from a cliff. Without it, the despair he had felt in the market came rushing back. He sank down right there by the door, bringing his knees up to his chest as he’d done in the forest. As he used to do in Julius’ room.

He almost wished Julius was here – at least he would tell him not to cry.

The through was so absurd he let out a weak snotty laugh and buried his head in his arms.

He needed to leave Steveange.

He didn’t want to leave them.

But they had planned to stay for a week at least, hopefully longer.

Convince them to leave early? Except he couldn’t explain why. Find them a job out of the city? How? When the coronation and accompanying celebrations were over it would be easy enough to find a traveling group in need of a little extra protection, but for now no one was leaving.

They’d been excited to come. Virgil want to try the city baths, famed for their heated pools and soothing water. Logan had been talking about the library for half the trip. Patton was just excited to explore the city itself, meet the people and try the food. He loved when they stopped in busier towns but it was a rarity.

There was no way Roman would be able to convince them to leave just because he wanted to.

Roman did what other people wanted. It was all he knew how to do.

And even if he had a convincing reason…well, they probably didn’t want him around anymore anyway.

He scrambled up, grabbed the first pillow he could reach and buried his face in it to muffle a scream of frustration which turned into more sobs.

He was so pathetic.

Since he’d left home, he’d kept his memories, kept Romulus, buried as deep as he could. But now it was like Romulus was just under his skin. Ready to jump out If he let himself slip. With all his anger and hurt and fear.

Romulus was a liability.

Romulus was a murder. Or would be. If Roman couldn’t think.

He stepped over to his pack, still hugging the pillow to him like a teddy bear, and started to review the contents. He didn’t need to take all of this with him, surely? Half of it wasn’t even his, their belongings having become more and more intertwined the longer they travelled.

The healing salve was rightfully Virgil’s, the soft shirt he wrapped himself in during cold nights was actually Patton’s, at least one of the notebooks belonged to Logan.

He opened the nearest book to check, but instead of Logan's neat lists his own sloppy scrawl stared back at him. Song lyrics and passing thoughts and, on the next page, an unfinished sketch. It was of Virgil, hand covering his mouth but eyes betraying his laughter. The other pages, he knew contained scribbles of all three of them. He flicked back and found his favourite, the page marked with a yellowed leaf he couldn’t remember picking up.

It showed all three in one sketch. Logan, sleeping and so looking years younger, head pillowed on Virgil’s thigh. Virgil was turned towards Patton, rolling his eyes as if to say ‘can you believe this?’ but making no move to actually shift scholar off him. Patton was laughing, he was the most well rendered of the three figures, you could almost see his shoulders shaking.

Roman looked at it for a moment. Then slowly replaced the book mark and closed it. This would have to come with him.

A knock at the door startled him so badly he dropped the book, which bounced under the bed.

“Kiddo? Can I come it?”

Fuck.

Patton. He had -he had been so, so unbelievably rude to Patton.

His first instinct, which was admittedly not a good one, was to jump out of the window.

Roman took a deep breath. Focusing on the mundane task of sorting items had cleared his head somewhat. He was still a little shaky but his eyes were dry. He knew what would be expected of him now - Romulus had spent most of his life apologising.

“Come in.” he croaked and stood, squaring his shoulders.

Patton entered alone, two bowls of something that smelled delicious cradled in his arms.

Roman ignored the sudden spike of hunger – the fruit tart seemed a long time ago now- and bowed from the waist. He kept his back ramrod straight and bent low enough that it quickly became uncomfortable. It was the kind of bow Romulus would only have given his father or elder brother.

“Patton, I owe you my most humble apology I-“

“Roman I am so sorry.”

“The way I spoke to you was the height of disrespect and unprin- ungentlemanly behaviour I – wait, what?”

He straightened up and looked at Patton, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“Roman, I – wait hold on.” Patton handed him one of the bowls and turned to close the door. “Do you mind if we sit?” he asked and Roman nodded, smiling despite himself. Patton was the politest person he had ever met.

Once they were both seated, Patton’s bad leg stretched out in front of him, Patton looked at him seriously.

“Roman you were right downstairs. We should never have promised you’d perform without asking you first - no it's true!”

But Roman was already shaking his head. “Patton you were fine, you know I love singing! I was the one acting like, like some sort of beast I-“

“I know you love singing but that doesn’t mean we get to pick and choose when-“

“But I wanted to perform as much as possible whilst we were here- I’d told you that!”

“-especially after travelling all week. We were, er, presumptuous.”

Roman stared at him.

“Unlike this soup, which is pre – scrumptious.”

Patton beamed at him. Roman groaned.

“Anyway I’m sorry for letting you stew-“ he held up the bowl again waggling his eyebrows “- up here for so long, but we needed to make things right with the landlord.”

Roman, who had been starting to relax under the force of two puns in a row, tensed again. “What things?”

Patton smiled. “We paid the difference – you don’t have to perform! Uhh unless you want to of course, but it’s your choice.” He nodded decisively whilst Roman gaped.

“b-but isn’t it expensive?”

Patton just shrugged, “Well, the last job paid well didn’t it?”

“Not that well!”

“Aw c’mon kiddo, what’s the point of having money if we don’t spend it? Right?”

Not knowing what to say. Roman shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth without tasting it. Guilt turning the meal to ash.

“Patton…how many days did you pay for?”

“The rest of the week! And there’s still enough to have some fun at the markets, don’t worry, we can all have a – hey!” Patton put his bowl down, shuffling closer to put one warm hand on Roman’s knee.” Roman, hey kiddo, buddy what’s wrong?”

Roman found, quite to his surprise, that he was trembling. He followed Patton's example and put the bowl carefully on the floor before digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I…can’t Pat. I can’t stay here. I have to go.”

“Go?” Patton looked at him with confusion clear in his big brown eyes, “But why kiddo? You don’t like the inn?”

Roman groaned shaking his head “not the inn. The city. I’m not – I can’t – if ‘m here it- “ he let out a whine of frustration, hating his curse heavy tongue.

Never tell anyone about our conversation.

“I just-“ My brother is coming and if I see him I-

“If – “ my brother is coming and he won’t be alone. There are people who know who I really am and I –

“Okay.”

Romans head snapped up.

Patton still had a frown on his face but when he looked at Roman his eyes were as serious as Roman had ever seen them. “If you can’t tell me the details it’s fine but-“ he lent forward, “Roman, are you safe here?”

Without breathing, Roman shook his head. No.

Patton nodded and squeezed his knee. “Well then of course we’re not staying.” Hesitantly, he lifted his arm and rested one large hand on the back of Romans neck. Forcing their eyes to meet. “Whatever it is – we will help you. You know that don’t you?”

Embarrassingly, Roman felt his eyes filling with tears.

“We’ll leave in the morning.” Patton told him. Patton stood up, taking Romans congealing stew and his own empty bowl and headed to the door. He paused, one hand on the door handle. “Everything’s going to be okay kiddo.” he smiled, “We love you.”

And he was gone.

For a long moment Roman sat frozen, staring at the closed door.

“Yeah.” He agreed, eventually. “Right.”

Except. They didn’t. Not really.

They loved Roman.

Roman had screamed and insulted them and instead of kicking him out of their group like they had every right to do, they had given up what little money they had just to make Roman feel better.

And Roman was a lie.

Roman was Romulus with a bad haircut. And Romulus was everything they weren’t’ – a stupid, pampered, prince with no power or pride.

Patton might be willing to upheaval their lives just on Roman's say so, But Logan and Virgil were more practically minded. They would want explanations. Might even demand them.

Never tell anyone about your curse. Remove yourself from anyone who might ask you about it and put as much distance between you as you can.

Romulus was a liability.

One they shouldn’t have to deal with.

He strapped his lute to his back and secured his dagger in a hidden pocket that Virgil had taught him how to sow. Everything else he left, including, after a moments hesitation, his sword. He had been training Logan to use it, on and off, and whilst the scholar was no solider he was improving. At the very least, it would be some source of protection until they could hire another swordhand for their travels.

The climbing plants he had noticed on the way in made getting down from the window much easier than he had originally anticipated. Dusting off his hands he skirted the building, taking care to avoid the large windows of the main hall, until he found the entrance to the the stables.

He wasn’t proud of it, but he had stolen before when he first left home. He would have to again now in order to put some distance between the city and himself.

It wasn’t his worst plan.

And it might even have worked, had they not already been waiting for him.

When Romulus was eleven, and had taken to following the young Marquis de Orenlla around like a love sick puppy. Even now, under the weak light of a covered lantern and with almost fifteen years distance from the memories, he still recognised him instantly.

“Good evening, your highness.” The Marquis smile was as dazzling as he remembered, although his eyes were colder.

He had no army with him, and no weapon that Roman could see. But then, why would he need one?

“Come with me.”

Roman went.

part 4

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #creativitwins #this chapter is just #roman having an extended panic and making piss poor decisions #but also having great friends #alas #sidespart writes #TS: Fall of Romulus

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evafrechette · 3 years

Text

Superstar Glow

↠ seokjin x jimin | smut | pornstar!au, 1970s!au | 21+ | 4k

↠ Summary: “H-hello, I'd like to order a pizza please, with extra sausage. Mmmm I do enjoy a good ol' sausage." Jimin’s voice soft and seductive. He placed the phone on the ground and began to grind down on the mattress, head thrown back in ecstasy while his fingers twisted the nipples that peaked out of the top of his bustier. Seokjin was getting hard watching the scene unfold in front of him. . .

“Superstar Glow is a brilliant new porn film. Fantastic debut by actor Kim Seokjin. It simply is the best film of 1975.” - Jeon Jungkook, Playguy Magazine.

(Aka Seokjin films his very first Porno)

↠ Warnings: anal sex, anal fingering, anal fisting, blowjobs, swearing, drug use, come shot, come eating, seokjin has a huge cock, porn films, terrible pizza related pick up lines, jimin in lingerie, 70s slang, drinking, casual mention of cheating, filming a porn video.

Seokjin confidently strode into the warehouse. It smelled strongly of cigarette smoke mixed with patchoulli incense which tickled his throat when he breathed in. Right in the center of the room was a circular shaped bed sitting on top of a large brown shag mat, partitions surrounded the afghan blanket covered bed which had 3 spotlights shining brightly in it’s direction. A funky bass line and rhythmic drums reverberated around the large room as people walked on by, cigarettes lazily hanging from their mouths as they carried long thick cables wrapped around their arms and bulky cameras perched on their shoulders.

In the far corner of the space sat a dressing table, the mirror lined with bright lights. A small man with thick thighs was currently perched on top of a fur covered stool, brushing his blond hair back gently. He was wearing a black and red lace bustier which brought attention to his muscular chest, garter belt with nude coloured stockings and silky black panties which showed off a rather impressive bulge. He was a very pretty man and Seokjin was pleased to be staring alongside someone so gorgeous.

Today was Seokjin's porno debut. He had been scouted at an adult movie theatre during a late night session of ‘Boys in the Sand’ by a director who happened to be sitting in the same row as him.

As with all adult theaters once the movie started, the dicks came out and his large size had garnered the attention of the man a few seats away. Seokjin was naturally skeptical, thinking it was a lame pick up line to get him back to his apartment to fuck. But when the man handed over a very professional business card and told him to "think about it" Seokjin realised the offer was legit.

Seokjin's watched the director Yoongi and his fantastic bushy chevron mustache adjusting the lighting on the set and walked over to say Hi. He was an quite the character, he wore a burnt orange turtleneck jumper underneath a brown, orange and pale yellow checkered leisure suit, his jet black hair was pushed off his face which allowed you to focus on his beautiful feline shaped eyes and strong eyebrows. A thick gold chain draped around his neck and several clunky (fake) gold rings sat on his fingers. His voice was deep, barking orders at the crew to get everything ready in time. He was also a short man, which would explain the very high brown and cream platform shoes he was wearing. Seokjin's ankles hurt just looking at them.

"Uh hey, what's crackin'." He asked once he had reached the man, holding out his hand for a handshake.

"Ahhh the star of today's shoot." A large hand shot out and slapped against Seokjin's, pulling him in for a hug. "How are you feeling today? Nervous? We have some cocaine if you wanna take a bump, loosen yourself up a bit? One of the guys can take you out back and suck your dick if that will help?" The man turned back to adjusting the light, mumbling about how you can't trust dope heads to get anything done right.

"Oh no, that won't be necessary. Once I'm in front of the camera I'll be groovy baby." His eyes continued to dart around the room taking everything in.

"Have you met your co-star yet?" Yoongi asked over his shoulder. "The cute little blond in the lingerie. He may look delicate and sweet, but he's a huge whore. Loves being stuffed with big cocks. Ah fuck yeah, that's perfect!" Satisfied with the lighting set up he turned his attention back to Seokjin dusting his hands on his polyester trousers. "Though, I've never had a cock as big as yours on my set, so this will be interesting."

Seokjin blushed at hearing this, he was truly blessed by the Penis Gods when it came to his manhood. Twelve inches of thick, tan cock. Even the vein that ran up the underside looked as though it was designed by a specialist penis sculptor. Yoongi had told him the night they met that his cock was made for pornography and it was a shame he wasn't showing the world his gifts.

The blond must have sensed he was being spoken about and made his way over to where Seokjin stood, swaying his hips deliberately with every step. He was a beautiful sight, a sharp straight nose that complimented his angled jawline, sultry monolids dusted with a shimmering brown eyeshadow, and a full, sumptuous pout that screamed "blow job lips"Seokjin licked his lips as he watched the way the mans long legs moved in the soft, silky stockings that enclosed his smooth legs.

"Yoongi, is this the Jive Turkey I'm filming with today?" The man cocked a hand on his hip, eyes roaming over Seokjin's body.

"Hey! I ain't no Jive Turkey, what the fuck?" Seokjin exclaimed, shocked that for the first time in his life he'd been insulted in such a way.

"Jimin mellow out huh? This is Seokjin, yes he is filming with you today, I hope they prepped you well earlier 'cause this man is gonna be a star baby!" Yoongi wrapped his arm around Seokjin's wide shoulders squeezing tight, "The biggest cock I've ever seen! He's gonna have you squealing like a little bitch, you're gonna love it."

"I was only joshin' you know me. I'm Jimin by the way." The blond made no attempt at a handshake, instead looking off seemingly disinterested in the conversation.

"See that door on your right? Head in there to get your threads for the shoot and when you're done get back here and we'll start, we're ready when you are." Yoongi clapped his hand against Seokjin's shoulder before letting go.

Once inside the small room he stripped off and dressed in the clothes that were hanging on the clothes rack. Crisp white trousers that fit like a glove, letting everyone see just what he was packing down below and a matching shirt that he made sure to leave partially unbuttoned. His hand brushed over the jewelry selection, deciding on a thin silver chain and matching ring. He looked at himself in the mirror and winked. He looked fantastic and he was truly feeling himself. He also couldn't wait to get out there and choke that sassy little twunk with his cock. The thought of his pink plush lips struggling to stretch around his girth had Seokjin twitching in his pants.

Once back on set the mood had changed, the loud stereo system had been turned off and the crew were in place ready to start filming. Jimin was sprawled out on the bed, hand lazily palming the bulge through his panties while he and Yoongi spoke in hushed tones.

"Seokjin! You look bitchin', that outfit is great. What's underneath is even better, oh Jiminie you are in for a treat," Yoongi clapped his hands gleefully, "Alright here's the skinny, Jimin is a horny slut who has ordered a pizza, Seokjin you are the pizza delivery guy. You come in and fuck his brains out. You both got it? It's porn, not rocket science. Think with your dicks not your brains. Can you dig it?"

"Right on." Seokjin nodded, walking to the prop table to pick up the pizza box before standing on the x marked with duct tape on the ground, just out of the way of the cameras. He unzipped his trousers and pushed his semi hard cock through the hole on the bottom of the pizza box. The only thing Jimin would be putting in his mouth today would be his cock. The loud wurring of the camera let everyone know that tape was rolling and it was showtime.

Yoongi slowly moved the camera towards the bed as Jimin's soft moans filled the room, his small fingers tracing up and down his stocking clad legs. Jimin picked up the prop phone pretending to dial a number.

"H-hello, I'd like to order a pizza please, with extra sausage. Mmmm I do enjoy a good ol' sausage." His voice soft and seductive. He placed the phone on the ground and began to grind down on the mattress, head thrown back in ecstasy while his fingers twisted the nipples that peaked out of the top of his bustier. Seokjin was getting hard watching the scene unfold in front of him. He really wanted his dick sucked immediately, but took a deep breath to calm himself down. Yoongi pulled the camera back and motioned towards Seokjin. One of the sound crew knocked against a piece of wood to replicate a door being knocked on and he quickly stood straight ready to make his grand entrance.

"Oh." Jimin crawled across the bed and skipped to near where Seokjin stood. One of the camera men, a tall man that went by the name Namjoon followed Jimin and stood directly in front of him, camera lowering to shoot a close up of his cock trapped behind the silk fabric, then making it's way to his face again. "Come on in." Jimin pursed his plump lips, before returning to the bed to sit, legs daintly crossed over one another. "Are you the pizza man? Because you sure look like you could deliver." He purred, stroking his length over the silk.

Seokjin walked into the shot, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He wasn't nervous before, but once he was under the heat of the lights, camera zooming in on his handsome face, well he was starting to feel like maybe he had fucked up on coming here today. Seconds ticked on by before he gained his composure, "Are you craving pizza? Because I'll gladly give you a pizz-a this dick." He pulled the top of the pizza box open, cock springing to life. Jimin's eyes nearly bulged out of his head which made Seokjin smirk.

He moved to stand in front of Jimin who was still sitting on the bed, using his free hand to run his fingers through the blonds perfectly styled hair.

"You're the only topping I need on my pizza." Jimin whispered loud enough for the sound boom to pick up, smooth as butter he dropped down onto his knees and took Seokjin into his hand, small fingers struggling to wrap around his thickness. He pumped Seokjin a few times before taking him into his wet hot mouth. Seokjin let out a gasp, he was surprised, he really thought the smaller man would struggle to suck his cock, but as he looked down he saw a blond head bop up and down expertly on his length.

Seokjin grabbed a fist full of bottle blond hair and moved his hips, shallow and slow to begin with then a little faster and harder, allowing his cock to slip further down Jimin's throat. The man hummed around his length, spit drooling down the sides of his mouth as he took Seokjin nearly to the base. Seokjin groaned at the feeling of Jimin's throat constricting tight around his cock. The sounds of crew footsteps and the glare of the hot lights above fading into the background as he lost himself to the pleasure of Jimin's mouth.

"Look at you, what a good boy you are, throat so full of my cock." He tightened his grip on Jimin's hair, "So pretty."

Tears ran down Jimin's cheeks, mixing into the spit that was dripping down his chin and neck. He pulled his cock free and slammed it back in without warning, fucking Jimin's pretty mouth with vigor. The camera men had moved closer to the action, a camera focused on Seokjin's cock while another filmed his reactions, the way his eyebrows furrowed whenever he felt himself getting close to his release and the quiet whimpers when he locked eyes with the man below him.

"Your mouth is too good at this pretty boy, I'm about to come." He groaned between gritted teeth, hips stilling as his hot release spilled down Jimin's throat. The blond swallowed Seokjin's load like the professional he was, falling back onto his ass, absolutely exhausted once he was done.

"Aaannd CUT!" Yoongi yelled from behind his camera, he pulled a joint from his pants pocket and motioned for one of the crew to light it for him. He took a big toke, holding the smoke in before exhaling. "Right on, right on. That was good. Shit, Jimin you are freaky deaky. Damn! This might just be my most successful film to date." He took another deep drag of the good Mary Jane and pointed at Seokjin, "Go have a drink, there is whiskey and beer on the table, or water if you're a square. If you think you'll have trouble getting hard again go and ask Hoseok for a little blue pill, that'll help. He's the jelly brain over there in the red shirt and fake Gucci belt."

Seokjin slowly removed his cock from the pizza box and threw it to the side as someone from wardrobe dashed over and cleaned him up with a warm hand towel. He tucked himself back into his pants and strolled over to the drinks table, deciding on a bottle of Rheingold beer, he nursed the red and white labelled bottle as he watched the crew change the film in the cameras. The tight knit all male crew made lewd remarks and joked around, while Yoongi the director sat in his chair getting stoned.

"How are you enjoying your first shoot?" Jimin asked, face no longer a tear stained mess.

"It's pretty rad, not quite what I expected but it's all gravy." He replied taking another sip of the yeasty and fruit flavoured liquid.

"Yoongi was right, your cock is magnificent. I can't wait for you to fuck my ass. Don't be gentle, I like a bit of pain." The sweet voice next to him explained.

Seokjin nearly choked on his drink, everyone here was so open and had absolutely no filter.

"No fake?" He turned to ask the man.

"No fake handsome. They prepped me so well earlier you could probably fist me if you wanted. Don't want to scare you off on your first day though." He laughed, hand shooting up to cover his plump lips.

"I-I'll keep that in mind, thanks."

-----

Jimin and Seokjin strolled back onto set once the film had been changed and Yoongi returned from taking a piss. Now it was time for the fucking. Seokjin took a deep breath and looked down at his crotch, "Make me proud big boy." He whispered.

"Alright places people, let's get this thing done so I can go home and fuck my girlfriend before my bitch of a wife gets back from work." Yoongi called out, shifting to sit behind his Ikegami 3-tube colour camera.

Seokjin made his way over to Jimin, who was standing in front of the bed. He gave the smaller man a shy smile before turning his head towards Yoongi waiting for the signal to begin.

"3, 2, 1 Now Fuck!"

"I know this is pretty cheesy, but I think you're saucy." Jimin curled his hand around the lapel of Seokjin's shirt, pulling him so close he could smell the star anise and blackcurrent hints of his cologne. Seokjin leaned down and slowly pressed his pillowy lips against Jimin's, who slightly parted his own when he let out a quiet sigh. Seokjin flicked his tongue against the soft fullness of Jimin's pink tinged lips and deepened the embrace, tongue meeting with the other as he placed his big hands on either side of the mans soft face, tilting his head upwards for easier access.

He nipped at Jimin's bottom lip before pulling away to breathe. He dived back in, kiss messy and wet, their mouths wide open so the camera could film their tongues flicking against one another's. Seokjin nudged Jimin backwards towards the bed and helped lower him down onto the firm mattress, caging his lingerie clad body with his own. He rocked his already hard cock against Jimin, grinding hard against the silk, desperate to feel some friction. They continued to messily make out until Yoongi called out "Cut!"

Seokjin concentrated on getting his breathing under control. He was already so hard again and it was beginning to hurt. The man Yoongi had earlier identified as Hoseok came over and handed Seokjin a bottle of KY Jelly, "He's been prepped, but lube up anyway, we don't film that pain shit some people are into. Finger him a few times, slowly so they can get some close ups, then fuck him like you've never fucked before. Come wherever you like, just make sure to let us know so they can get in close and film it."

Jimin was on his hands and knees, silk panties long gone, as he spread his cheeks wide for Seokjin. His hole was stretched open, pink and glistening. Seokjin coated his fingers in the clear liquid and crawled behind the blond.

"Alright, no stopping this time. Let's get this cumshot in one go. Action!" Yoongi murmured, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

Seokjin brought two fingers to Jimin's entrance and remembering Hoseok's words, slowly pushed in until he was knuckle deep. He pulled his fingers out, before pushing back in enjoying the sound of soft moans underneath him. Seokjin took his time to add another, and another, making sure to press down on Jimin's sensitive spot when he withdrew his fingers with each thrust. He watched in awe as Jimin's hole stretched perfectly around his knobbly fingers, clenching and fluttering due to his touch. He pulled out gently, coating his entire hand with more lubricant before lining up once more, tucking his thumb into the palm of his hand and steadily worked his entire fist into the blonds ass.

Jimin let out a long whine, teeth digging into his bottom lip. "Jimin don't do that, let it all out." Yoongi yelled unimpressed at his attempts to quiet himself.

Seokjin couldn't believe his eyes as he pushed in further, his whole hand disappearing inside Jimin's ass. He nearly came right then and there. He moved his hand shallowly inside Jimin's warm hole, cock throbbing as Jimin's pants and whimpers filled the room. "Fuck, you are amazing." Seokjin choked, enjoying the depravity of performing an act like this on someone. The camera men moved around the studio, positioning themselves awkwardly close to Seokjin to film what would no doubt be the highlight of the film. He looked over his shoulder and asked, "Can I fuck him now?"

"Yes, YES." Smoke puffed out between Yoongi's lips as he replied.

Seokjin withdrew his hand and quickly jumped off the bed to remove his clothes, flinging his trousers off to the side. Using the hand still coated in lubricant, he jerked himself off a few times coating his length in the sticky cool liquid.

"Do you like Pizza Hut pretty boy? Because I want to stuff your crust." He looked at the camera and raised his eyebrow before he slipped his thick cock into Jimin's gaping hole, balls snapping against the blonds supple ass when he bottomed out. His hole was surprisingly still tight and Seokjin couldn't help but let out a filthy groan.

"O-oh your cock is so big, it feels soooo good. Keep fucking my ass just like that." Jimin cried out mouth hanging open as he pushed back onto Seokjin's length. Seokjin slammed his cock back in again and Jimin fell face forward into the pillows due to the force. He spread Jimin's ass cheeks with his hands, watching as his massive cock stretched out the man below him. His grip was tight on the soft skin of Jimin's hips, leaving marks that would bruise by the evening. He leaned himself over the smaller mans body, chest pressed against his muscular back and rammed into him. They were both a whining, moaning mess, his cock brushing up against Jimin's prostate with every thrust. Seokjin placed his head against Jimin's shoulders, sweat making their skin stick to one another. He reached between his legs and took Jimin's cock into his hand and pumped him in time with his own thrusts.

"I'm gonna come soon, how far away are you?" He whispered into Jimin's ear, voice barely picked up by the sound boom. "Mmm keep doing that with your hand and I'll be coming pretty soon too, shit."

Seokjin faced the camera and seductively licked his lips, a hungry noise escaping his throat. The camera crew changed positions making sure to capture all the action from different angles. Namjoon climbed onto the bed, legs planted on either side of Seokjin as he filmed from above.

"Oh-oh shit, I'm gonna come." Jimin cried into the pillows, cock throbbing as his release spurted out onto the mattress underneath him. His hole squeezed around Seokjin's cock, so he picked up the pace and fucked his ass fast, desperate to reach his orgasm too. Jimin was becoming overstimulated, squirming his body under Seokjin's firm grip. He held on tight, thrusting so deep Jimin was seeing stars. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed in his ears triggering him to squeeze his eyes shut as he focused on reaching his high. The tell tale sign of his approaching orgasm began, tingling starting in his crotch and slowly spreading out to his arms and legs.

Seokjin managed to pull out just as he came, hot cum landing all over Jimin's soft ass cheeks, slowly dripping down onto the back of his thighs. The camera moved in close focusing on Jimin's stretched hole and his cum covered ass, Seokjin leaned down into the shot and dragged his tongue over the smooth skin of Jimin's perky rear and began cleaning up his mess. He hummed as he licked away his salty release, eyes focused on the blinking light of the camera, corner of his mouth turning up into a small smirk.

"CUT! That was great you dirty whores! All right, let's get this set cleaned and get the fuck out of here." Yoongi passed his camera to his assistant and walked over to Seokjin, he pulled out an envelope and handed it over, "Here's ya mulah for the day. If you want more of that let me know and I'll book you in for another film. I think this one is going to do really well. Pretty face, huge cock, how could it not?"

Seokjin jogged back to the small room to get changed, he could shower at home, adrenaline was coursing through his body right now and he was excited to catch up with his closest friends and tell them about his amazing experience. Once he was back to looking like normal everyday Seokjin and not burgeoning Porn star Seokjin he made his way around the room, saying thanks to all the staff, especially Jimin who had given him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Seokjin reached the exit pausing to take a look back at the porn set. He smiled as he watched crew dissemble lights and pack away furniture and props. Yoongi had said he could do this again, an offer he would take up for sure. Working at the local grocers didn't have as much appeal as having sweet, tight assholes begging for his cock, maybe this was the start of a new career for Seokjin? He pushed his sunglasses up onto his nose and stepped out into the bright summers day, he entered the building a porn actor virgin and left with that superstar glow, he was a (porn) star in the making.

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invisibleraven · 2 years

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Another prompt yaaay 48, a kiss that lasts longer than it should, peterpatterlina

Slightly playing in the Pushing Daisies universe, where Luke is playing the role of Ned, with the power to bring dead things back to life with a touch, but touching them again makes them dead again forever. Julie is no longer dead thanks to him, but they are finding a way to make their relationship work.

Luke hums as he touches each piece of fruit only once, then pushes the box towards Reggie so the now fully fresh and juicy fruit can be chopped or cooked for each pie. Reggie is humming along with him, his knife flying, streaks of colour staining the cutting board, his fingers growing sticky from the juice. Julie is mixing the dough off at the other counter, her hands forever smelling of butter, flecks of flour covering her face.

"Behind," Luke says as he passes by Julie, careful not to touch her. Even as he longs to, aches to hold her in his arms. She grins, holds up a piece of plastic wrap, pie crust stick under her nails, but Luke doesn't hesitate to press a kiss to her lips through the plastic.

Reggie sighs as the kiss goes on, but then gets back to his work. These pies aren't going to make themselves. He brings the mixture for the Very Berry pie over to Julie, hand brushing along the line of her hips as he goes. "Here you go darlin'," and pops a piece of strawberry into her mouth, pressing a kiss to her lips right after, coming away humming. "Mmmm, almost as sweet as you."

Julie giggles, tossing a blueberry at Reggie, which he catches with ease. "Stop eating the pies if you aren't gonna pay for them!" Luke calls as he goes over the account books, smiling at how much business is up this week.

"We made them, we get to eat them!" Reggie calls back.

"I think he's just jealous he can't eat them," whispered Julie. "How about you give him a taste?" She then pulled him down for a lush, lengthy kiss, the intermingling flavours of fruit and each other being shared between them.

They broke apart and Reggie staggered over to Luke, grinning wide. "Hey boss, got something for you from our girl," he said cheekily, and smashed their lips together. Luke let out a small noise, but sank into the kiss, savouring the sweet taste of fruit, of Reggie, and a lingering taste that must be Julie's. Luke didn't pull back until air became essential, and he loved how well kissed Reggie looked, even if he wished he could make Julie look the same way.

That night, as he was closing up, Luke saw one booth was still occupied. "We're closing down now sir, but I'd be more than happy to box up some pie for the road."

"Oh my dear Lucas, I'm not here for the pie." The man looked up at him, his eyes a startling blue. "I'm here for you."

"I'm sorry?" The man gestured for Luke to sit, which he did with trepidation. "I know about your gift my dear boy. The way you have with the recently deceased. I've come to offer my services, as it were. I can take that gift... That burden away from you."

Like was dumbfounded, a million questions flooding his brain. He had no idea who this guy was or how he knew about Luke's power to wake the dead, but the thought of no longer having it...

"What do you want?"

"I want your gift my dear boy. To wake the dead, help those who may have a last message, some unfinished business to attend to. Those poor unfortunate souls with no one else to turn to." The man adjusted his sleeves, leveling a look at Luke. "I would take your gift, and leave you a normal human who can finally touch one of his truest loves. Julie I believe it is?"

Luke stalled at that, and the possibilities filled him with hope. Walking hand in hand with Julie, getting to finally kiss her and not by proxy. To love her in all the ways she deserved, in the ways that only Reggie had been able to do so far. "What's the catch?"

"No catch, a simple favour from one who has a special relationship with the dead to another," the man said. "Do we have a deal?"

"No one will get hurt right?" Luke asked. "And you won't do anything to us?"

"On my honour, not one hair on the head of anyone will be harmed, least of all those you care for. You've got nothing to lose. So?" He extended his hand, looking at Luke expectantly.

Luke looked at the man, who was giving him a chance at a normal life. Sure, he would have to buy non spoiled fruit, and his time helping solve murders with Bobby would be through... But Julie would be able to be his, fully and truly. Sure, they would still be a part of a throuple with Reggie, but they could finally just... be.

"Okay," Luke said finally, sticking out his own hand. "You've got a deal."

The man gave a sinister smile and took Luke's hand, then everything went black.

#filled prompts #ficlet #rukebox #peterpatterlina #julie and the phantoms

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tumbledfreckles · 4 years

Text

Fitting In

Jilytober Day 13 Prompt from @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world: Flying Lessons on AO3

James had realised recently that when Lily often said she was going to the library to study after supper, Sirius often disappeared. Not unusual in and of itself, but the face he always made sure to take the map with him was. That it seemed to only be the evenings that Lily went to the library also strange.

With time on his hands, and no mates to speak of that evening, Peter on a date, Remus unwell, James decided to investigate. First up was the obvious inspection of the library. He checked all the normal places, the Charms stacks, the dusty Potions corner, the hidey-hole near Herbology where Lily often hid when she didn’t want any of the younger students she tutored to find her in the aforementioned locations. Nothing.

Searches of the Potions labs, the kitchens, the Room of Requirement (Merlin, who even knew Gideon Prewitt was getting it on with William Terry anyway?) revealed neither his girlfriend nor his best mate. James trudged up the Astronomy Tower, hoping it was still too early and too light to run into any more couples with nefarious intentions.

It was, quite thank fully, empty as James completed a circuit around the exposed outside path. He looked out across the grounds, ticking off locations. Where the devil are they? He wondered. He turned to go back down the tower, when a shout and movement caught his eye.

Two figures seemed to be moving slowly around the Quidditch Pitch, barely a foot above the stands. If it hadn’t been for the shout, James would never have noticed them. The two brooms were extremely close together and one appeared to a bit shaky. He frowned, mentally consulting the Pitch schedule. No one had the Pitch booked tonight for practise, he was pretty certain. And there didn’t seem to be anyone else with the pair, let alone a whole team of players.

James headed down the Astronomy Tower, still frowning, his brain ticking over. The light had been too faded as night approached to see any colour in their hair, and it was too far to see what House the students had been in.

Still, with time of his hands and an ongoing distinct lack of mates, James decided he’d go for wander down to the Pitch and see who was there. It wouldn’t be Sirius and Lily, given Lily didn’t fly, but curfew was approaching, and he could at least pretend to be Head Boy. Lily would be pleased whenever she did emerge from her hidden location.

By the time he got down there, it was almost dark, but he could see that the two students were now on the same broom, doing lazy loops around the pitch. One was clearly female with long flowing hair and he guessed by the build of the other, a male. It wasn’t until he heard their voices that he recognised the flyers.

“I swear to Merlin if you do another bloody loopy thing.”

“Just relax and enjoy it. Maybe try and open your eyes.”

“I will if you just bloody fly straight.”

“Where’s the fun in that though, Evans?”

“The fun’s in living, Sirius.”

“Reckon we can go a bit faster?”

“This is fast enouuuggghhhhh. Siiirrriiiusss!”

James could hear Sirius laughing hysterically as they accelerated to what he could only really call a medium pace around the hoops at the far end of the pitch.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Prongs would kill me.”

“I’ll bloody kill you in a minute. Take me down!”

“As the lady commands.”

Lily shrieked again almost immediately as Sirius took them in several loops on his way down to the pitch. As they came toward the ground he could see Sirius was holding the broom with one hand while his other hand was clasped over Lily’s two hands on his stomach, her arms tightly encircling his waist. Lily’s face was pressed firmly into Sirius’ back and James guessed that her eyes were tightly shut.

“Honestly, Sirius, I will murder you,” James could hear Lily threatening as he moved further onto the pitch.

“Open your bloody eyes Evans, we’re on the ground,” Sirius smirked back at her, tapping his hand on top of hers comfortingly.

Lily opened her eyes, looking down at the ground before stretching her feet down towards the ground. “Oh,” she exclaimed, quickly swinging one leg over the broom to hop off. As she did so she cuffed Sirius on the back of the head, “Jerk.”

“Oi, watch it,” Sirius rubbed at his head and tried to smooth down his hair. “And I think the words you’re looking for are, actually, thank you.”

“Thank you for what?” James stepped forward from the shadows.

Lily jumped visibly and looked strangely nervous as Sirius turned around, “Prongs!” he greeted happily, a far cry from Lily’s obvious discomfort. “What brings you out this way?”

“Saw some people on the pitch. Thought I’d come see who was out so close to curfew. Didn’t expect to find you two here,” James shrugged, but knew his tone didn’t quite sound casual enough.

“I reckon I’ll let you take this one,” Sirius muttered to Lily, moving past her.

She tried to jab him in the side as he went, “Thanks a bunch.”

“Now you’re getting it, Evans,” he laughed as he jumped out of the way. “You’re most welcome, you ungrateful cretin.” Sirius continued walking, clapping his hand on James’ shoulder as he went past him. “Go easy on her, mate.”

James turned and watched Sirius head out of the Pitch back toward the castle. He turned back toward Lily, “Thanks for what? Why do I need to go easy on you?”

“I’m impressed with your Head Boy attentions,” Lily tried to deflect, nodding approvingly. “I must be rubbing off on you.”

“Don’t even try it,” he frowned again. “What’s going on?”

Lily muttered something, looking down at the ground as she stubbed her toe into the grass, kicking up a small clump of the pitch.

“What was that, sorry?” James stepped closer toward her.

Lily muttered again, but James was a bit closer and managed to catch the last word. Lessons.

“Sirius is giving you lessons?” He tilted his head to the side. “Flying lessons?” Lily nodded and James tried not to feel hurt. “Why didn’t you ask me for flying lessons?”

Lily gave him a pained expression, “It was meant to be a surprise.”

“A surprise?” James frowned. “For what?”

“The bloody Potter Easter Quidditch Tournament,” Lily burst out. “Sirius was telling me all about it, how even your Mum plays in it. And I’m coming home with you for Easter, I didn’t want to be the only one who wasn’t playing.”

“Oh,” James looked a bit shocked. “So, you asked Sirius to teach you?”

“I wanted to surprise you and fly well and make you really proud of me. And to make sure your parents like,” Lily explained, biting her lip. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

James had never felt more like he was going to melt into a small puddle at the sweetness this girl showed him. He took several more steps forward until he could reach out and grasp her hips, pulling him to her. Lily’s eyes were still downcast, her cheeks reddened with embarrassment, so James used one finger to tilt her chin up toward him before stroking her cheek softly.

“Lily, my parents will love you. Probably more than they love me. And Sirius. But mostly me. You don’t have to learn to fly for that to happen. And I’m always proud of you, proud that you’re my girlfriend,” he assured her.

She shook her head, “But I want to fit in. I want to be part of it.”

“You could keep score. Use your wit to entertain everyone with commentary,” he offered.

“I want to fly,” Lily argued. Her arms came up to loop around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape. “What a sad Gryffindor if I can’t face my fear of heights and learn.”

“Then I’ll teach you,” James smiled, pulling her even closer.

“Mmmm,” Lily hummed as she pushed up on her toes. “I think you might be a distraction.”

James’ hand buried in her hair as his lips dropped to her temple for a soft kiss, “How so?”

“Well, I’ll probably try to do this while your teaching me,” she pressed her own kiss in the crook of his neck, “And this,” a kiss on his jaw, “And this,” she planted her lips firmly on James’.

James wasn’t sure she’d made her point as he happily responded to the kiss. This was probably the type of lesson he could finally get behind.

#jilytober #jilytober2020 #jily fluff #sirius black #lily evans #james potter #lily and sirius were besties and you can't tell me otherwise #they would have been siblings that loved to tease #you cant tell me otherwise

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dangermousie · 5 years

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Mousie’s New and Improved Top 20 Cdramas List

Because why not. These are ordered in terms of being my favorite as opposed to pure quality - if I was trying to be objective, it would probably be rearranged, but I like being petty and subjective.

You will notice that literally every drama on this list is a period drama. Much as I adore period cdramas, contemporary ones rarely work for me.

20. Princess Agents (tie)

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ll6x8zf2CnQ

Our heroine is a slave in a brutal society who becomes a feared general, fighting for freedom and love of a Yan prince. But her heart might actually lie with a seemingly cold adversary who is madly in love with her (I shipped them so hard!) I was one of five people who loved the infamous cliffhanger ending because it made a brutal kind of sense (You can read the novel if you want a different resolution.)

20. Tribes and Empires (tie)

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WyRsPAGUz-Q

This one has a hell of an open ending, but it’s so gorgeous and epic, I don’t even care. Set in a fantasy empire, it follows three men - a half-human prince, a cursed son of a general, and an orphaned leader of a barbarian tribe. A feast for the eyes.

19. Ice Fantasy

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C05lhfrWgQg

A visually stunning high fantasy with elves, quests, a shockingly wonderful hero, brotherly love, toughest lady general ever as OTP and basically everything I like.

18. The General and I

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0XDR17kwXYM

The lengthy OTP separation brings its place in this list down, but otherwise a gorgeous romance between two enemies - a general and a female strategist, is a total swoon and so intense.

17. Three Kingdoms 2010

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3RVpdYDpYA

This one is a magnum opus of 100 episodes, with a tour de force performance by Chen Jian Bin as Cao Cao. Battles, politics, and even though it’s very secondary, one of my favorite love stories in cdramas. This one is if you want to use your brain as well as your heart.

16. Colourful Bone

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4O5yb3VBh4

It probably doesn’t deserve to be this high on the list but it hits all my narrative and shippy kinks with a common-sense heroine taking in an abused and mistreated death machine and teaching him to be human. Mmmm.

15. Young Warriors

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BO83qvKaoSM

What do you get when you have seven awesome heroic brothers, a star-studded cast, tragic stories about heroism and love and just amazingness? You get this drama.

14. Strange Hero Yi Zi Mei

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFVDAuFOyWE

Band of misfits fight corruption and uncover mysteries. This one is the most underrated drama on my list. Also, Wallace Huo has never been hotter in his life and that is saying something.

13. The Battle of Changsha

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbgFMaUfpnE

By the same people who wrote Minglan, this follows a family in 1930s China and is a quiet, devastating masterpiece.

12. Prince of Lan Ling

MV (warning - spoilery): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jUVGP0HETo

He’s the consummate battle god. She is a mystical shaman. He is fated to be with someone else per prophecy but he doesn’t care and chooses her. True love, politics, battles, jealousy, amazingness, tragedy. I love them so.

11. Gong/Jade Palace Lock Heart

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SVFPVkHaweo

This is Boys over Flowers goes Qing (where Domyoji’s behavior finally makes sense since he’s a literal prince and Rui likes to kill people.) This is such a amazing good fun, about a modern woman time traveling to the time of the fight for the throne between Kangxi’s sons. She thinks she likes the seemingly gentle Four but ends up with hot-blooded, awesome Eight. She herself is tough as all get out and this is pure deliciousness from beginning to end. Yang Mi and Feng Shao Feng had such amazing chemistry, people RPShipped them for years.

10. Return of the Condor Heroes 2006

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzXsBqVYp0I

My first cdrama ever, and what a gorgeous one it was. That’s what got me into cdramas. The childhood eps are pretty awful but after that, it’s pure shippy perfection with an incredible OTP. If you want to be in a constant romantic swoon, in that story of female master and her male disciple and their forbidden love, this one is for you.

9. Eternal Love/Three Lives Three Worlds Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9-ry-W4Crg

Fated immortal lovers, reincarnations, the whole enchilada. Yang Mi and Mark Chao have insane chemistry that burns up the screen. The first few eps are slow, but it makes up for it afterwards.

8. Legend of Fuyao

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkMX1d0v7t0

A twisty epic romance with a super-powered heroine who is plain awesome and may destroy the world, and a smart, ruthless prince who’s only soft for her. I love it so much!

7. Legend of Condor Heroes 2008

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c2fea109_qM

Plot twists, good guy hero with a mega smart OTP, tragic anti-hero who becomes a villain for a while with an amazing OTP, bromance, fights, everything. I just adore this one.

6. Bu Bu Jing Xin/Startling By Each Step

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9B3Rddrqt0

The one that started the time-travel craze (well, that and Gong), about a modern woman who time travels to the time of Emperor Kangxi’s sons’ fight for the throne, this is a gorgeously filmed tragic love story, with one of the most perfectly brutal endings out there. I adore it.

5. Nirvana in Fire

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4wps7SK9xo

This is a smart story about politics and revenge, where a survivor of a wrongly destroyed family comes to get justice. Seemingly laid back until it explodes. Not much romance but it doesn’t even need it.

4. Rise of the Phoenixes

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0BUvMKSj4E

Like the dramas to destroy you? Come right in. A story about a disfavored prince and a lost daughter of a previous dynasty, this is smart, gorgeous, and is going to wreck you.

3. Ever Night (s1)

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x99seU5qJuc

I have talked enough about it recently so I won’t say much more, but if you want epic, movie-like quality, characters you will love, amazing battles and cinematography, complicated world-building and an OTP to die for, come right in.

2. The Myth

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rfyfKM_Ww0

For the longest time, this was my favorite cdrama, to be replaced only by Minglan. It starts out funny and ends up tearing out your heart. This is the only time in my drama watching experience I cried so hard I threw up. The story is about two accidental time-travelers - a photographer and a cook - who end up in Qin Dynasty China. And from then on it’s about how that cruel, horrifying world takes two perfectly normal men and by wracking their very souls turns one into a hero and the other into a monster. To me, this is Hu Ge’s best performance and as you see his protagonist desperately try to hold on to his humanity and his love in a world that is doing its best to destroy it, I dare you not to cry like a baby. His character is my ultimate cdrama crush.

1. The Story of Minglan

MV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FA7m2QktiUk

Aaaaaand, my n1. cdrama is the amazing, too short at 73 eps, The Story of Minglan. It is very hard to describe the plot of this - a sort of Elizabeth Gaskell meets period China. It follows three interconnected upper-class families, but more specifically, it is about Shen Minglan, a concubine-born daughter of a minister and Gu Tingye, the oldest, legitimate, and hated by his family son of a Marquess. Their narratives run largely parallel for the first half of the story and such is the genius of this drama that I, the ultimate romance junkie, did not mind that. Minglan is a rarity in dramaworld - she is fiercely smart, very collected and emotionally detached. Life in the troubled Shen household taught her to survive and to hide her feelings and talents. Tingye is a big cdrama love. Abused and reviled by his household where he can do no right (the Marquess hated having to marry his merchant mother for money and has displaced that hate on her son), Tingye manages to keep his warm heart but acquires the ability to go his own way. Both of the protagonists are wonderful and smart and magnetic and rootable for separately, but when they get together, the sparks go off the charts and they become my n1 cdrama OTP of all time. A lot of the story is about family battles, women’s world dilemmas and relationship (of all sorts) interactions. There is also politics and battles, but the true charm of this drama are the mundane details of the world and the fully-fleshed out people who inhabit it. If you watch only one cdrama in your life, make it this one.

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xhanisai · 4 years

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SALTING AROUND AT THE SPEED OF SOUND

AO3 / FFN

Summary: Introducing!!!!

The! Ultimate! Salt! Fic! Ever! IN ZA WARUDO!

Featuring Dumb Noir getting taught a lesson about boundaries, Perfectnette getting friends and love interest(s), and LILA GETTING HER ASS HANDED BACK! HOW COULD YOU RESIST SUCH A WONDERFUL FIC?

(All in all, a crack fic on salt fics to bring our spirits up~)

Disclaimer - I've actually only read like one sentence of a salt fic and fucked off afterwards so everything I'm basing off in this fic is purely from exaggerated rumours and gossip about the salt corner THEREFORE if anything here looks familiar or if it seems like I'm taking the piss out of a specific story, it's all just one big coincidence. >:D ~(x)~ . . . Of all locations to settle on for the beginning of this amazing, wonderful, fucking fantastic story, it's established on the Eiffel Tower. Cliched but wonderfully ironic for the phenomenal heroes of Paris. On the beams, higher than the naked eye could see, Ladybug and Chat Noir were... Arguing. The feline hero had his partner's wrist clasped in an iron hold, digging those deadly claws ever so slightly into the soft flesh, piercing the supposed indestructible suit with a creepy grin- "Wait- hold up a second. I would never, NEVER hurt My Lady! Not even unintentionally! And what's with that face I'm making!?" Oh SHUT UP Shit Noir! Let me carry on writing my fucking story jeez! Stop breaking out of character and keep following the script! Anyways~ The skinny, pasty assed hero- "This script sucks..."- -TUGGED Ladybug closer to him, grin widening like he won the lottery as his demonic looking eyes perversely drank in the sight of the clearly uncomfortable looking heroine in his grasps. His face leaned into hers, only coming closer as she tried her best to lean back with a grimace. "Just one kiss Bugaboo~ one kiss won't hurt..." His grip tightened on the appendage, making the girl wince painfully. "Come on Chat Noir...let go! I have already told you, I'm in love with someone else. You seriously need to back off!" Ladybug whimpered, tossing away all her badassery and ability to suckerpunch a fuckboy in the face because hell yeah it ain't relevant to this sexy fic- "You're right Chaton, this script does suck lmao"- IGNORING WHAT THE CANON LB JUST SAID. Ehem. Like a defenseless little shoujou manga protagonist, Ladybug felt tears sparkle in her eyes and pure sadness washed over her frail body before Fuck Noir dipped her into a romantic pose and smashed his lips against hers with soooooo much passion and tongue and teeth and- . What. On. Earth. Oi you stupid cat! Watch where you're putting your hands on the girl! Yikes! What do they teach these Europeans!? Break it up already you hormone riddled boobs! "Oh Minou~ You're so daring~" "Just for you, My Lady~" STAY ON SCRIPT YOU BRATS! Hmph! Carrying on. Suddenly, herculean strength riddled through Ladybug's blood, falcon punching Bitch Noir off her and off the tower, thus HenchBug™ was born. Panting and wiping her lip with her thumb in a really really badass way (YOU KNOW THAT EPIC WAY THAT ANIME CHARACTERS DO TO WIPE THE BLOOD OFF THEIR LIP, RIGHT? RIGHT? ex deeeee), MachoBug swept towards Pussy Noir's broken twiggy body at the bottom of the tower. "You disobeyed me for the umpteenth time, Noir." BadassBug uttered cooly, keeping a blind eye to the growing crowd around her and the mangled up flesh on sticks at her feet. The black and yellow mess didn't respond. "Lo-oooool cos I'm dead!" WE'LL PRETEND WE DIDN'T HEAR THAT EITHER. Anger coursed through Ladybug's veins as all those traumatising memories and moments she had with her horrific partner flashed through her brain like an old window's movie maker AMV with Evanescence's 'Bring Me Back To Life' song blasting at full volume. The conveniently arrived Alya at the front of the crowd live streamed everything on the WadyBwog, babbling about ice cream scoops. "Every time we met up, you'd always make unwanted advances to me. You'd always force a kiss on me. You even slapped my thicc™ ass a few times- once to the beat of fucking Nyan cat!" The hive minded crowd surrounding them 'oooed' and 'aaahed', some snapped a selfie with what's left of the black cat. "Therefore," The sun auspiciously shone behind MariBug, giving her an ethereal, angelic look as she carried on her lecture. "I now deem you unworthy of the miraculous." BugBug fluttered her eyelashes with so much pain as if reciting those words killed her whole generation and their dogs and their hamsters. "Hand it over to me or else I'll force it off you." All of a sudden BuffBug™ was back, bitch slapping CryBabyBug away and menacingly placed one foot on the carcass. "Wow I think she forgot that you're dead Chat Noir," THE HIGH TENSIONED MOMENT REMAINED UNBROKEN AS FAKEBUG- oof- Ladybug rolled her eyes with annoyance at the disgusting boy's silence and immediately knelt down to yank the miraculous off his bony fingers- "Never!" The catboy sprung back to life before anyone could breathe, clutching his hand to guard his ring ferally, froth seeping out of his teeth and fangs gnashing against one another- "Looks like I'm a vampire with rabies now, Bug." "Since when did you have fangs?" "Since two seconds ago-" OH MY GOD YOU TWO! SHUT UP AND LET ME WRITE! Zombie Noir leapt back with a hiss, faux ears and tail twitching with indignation and summoned the ancient destruction power whilst BossBug spun her yoyo around in battle formation, ready to call for her lucky charm anytime soon. Cat and Bug kept up the intense eye contact as that cowboy music from the good, the bad and the fugly played in the background (cheers Lahiffe mah d00d!). "You don't want to become my enemy, do you, Chat N00b?" The heroine spat, bones clicking in place as she stretched her fingers when she and the lad in black circled each other slowly. The crowd and Alya were casually chilling in the background, the latter still narrating about an epic ice cream scoop. "Heh, I won't need to be the enemy if you don't touch MY ring... Milady~"- "MON DIEU! C'EST 'MY LADY'! C'EST N'AI PAS 'MILADY'!" THAT'S THE POINT YOU STUPID CAT! Break out of character one more time and I'll castrate you and feed your teeny tiny *censored* to the dogs! "...My Lady? Is my *censored* small? :(" "If your *censored* was small, you'd never have been able to make me scream at night, Minou~ ;3" ":D"

Regardless! The pussycat feinted to the left before dodging the razor sharp wire of his Lady's (not) yoyo, whipping out his baton (not the tiny one either) and swiftly used it to vault himself away like the coward he CLEARLY is. "You'll never get me alive, THOT!" Was the last thing that small dick energy minded cuck yowled and fled with his tail between his legs. BigBug let out a yell of rage™ and slammed her fist on the ground, branding the sloppy concrete job with a crater as the shockwaves caused the audience to let out a little 'DAYUMMMMMMMM'. "Lol I thought the geezer was dead hahaah! Yo Ladybuggy, mah homie, you and kitty cat did the shame shame already or nah?" Alya, the lil hoe, leant into the heroine's personal space with a crazed grin. She only received a middle finger from the annoyed Asian. (MMmm Mmmm yEAH YEAh trANSiTION so SEXYYYY) Now, it is conveniently time for Marinette's afternoon classes. The exhausted girl dragged her feet up those weird ass spirally steps that could break ankles JUST by looking at them and made it to her classroom, only to pause at the shouting she was hearing behind the door. "Oh boy, time to unleash the kraken..." Silence Adrien! You're not supposed to have appeared yet! Dumb ass blondes these days smh... "HEY! >:0" With a deep breath, the raven haired girl pushed the door open only to be met with what could be best described as a clusterfuck. Tears welled up in her eyes as the remains of her sketchbook (which looked like it had a trip in a paper shredder) was dumped all over the floor. She snapped her head back up only for her heart to literally shatter when she was met with a furious Alya Motherfuckin' Césaire. "Marinetti DupainGhetti. This. Is. Your. Punishment." Alya's glasses flashed sinisterly as her lips curled up into d i s g u s t . The rest of the class mirrored a similar look, acting as if poor little Cheng vored everything they loved and cherished. All except two people. That witch BITCH Lie-la smirked secretly as she cowered behind Alya and the wimp, spineless little shitty Dumbdrien whimpered on his desk, pretending that nothing was happening. "P-P-Punishment for wh-what?" Babynette sobbed, clutching her shoulders as if to hug herself and make her look smaller than she is. She darted her eyes towards the model, begging him internally to say something, anything! Alas, Bitchdrien only looked away guiltily, his thin chapped lips sealed shut. Marinette couldn't believe her bad luck. First there was an akuma attack, then she was assaulted by her shitty partner for the millionth time and now this? "Punishment for bullying our lord and saviour, Lila of course! How dare you make such a sweet girl like her suffer!?" Alya roared, using the power of the seven chaos emeralds and twenty dragonballs to go super satan and pinned Sweetienette against the wall with an elbow. Her hair fizzed with animosity and her eyes gleamed in a demonic red colour- "Dieu...you just had to drag my best friend into this too, huh?" "You'd think this writer is sane enough to know that I'd cataclysm anyone that dared to harm Ma Princesse, non?" "The writer? Sane? Good joke."- IGNORING STUPIDNETTE AND BLOODYDRIEN- Alya snarled, bruising our sweet little angel's poor skin with her brute strength whilst the rest of the class watched without a question. The sausage haired wench munched on some greasy ass popcorn as she watched the show whilst Shamedrien became one with the floor, a perfect doormat for us queens to stomp on. "You tripped her all the time when no one was watching, aggravating her shattered kneecaps. You plagerised her designs, ruining what's left of her sensitive self esteem and dammit don't even get me started on all those rumours you attempted to spread about her, smearing her celebrity status! I've never hated anyone more than you, BITCHINETTE!" Alya harrumphed and then shoved Brokenette against the wall again, possibly snapping her spine and stormed back to her new bestie. "Mon Dieu your best friend just murdered you..." "Mon Dieu my best friend just murdered me..." Tosses a knife at the duo to make them shut the fuck up. Everyone else applauded the psycho journalist for putting Poornette in her place, even Stinkdrien cos he can't handle peer pressure- BAM! . . . "HOW DARE YOU HURT MARINETTE DUPAIN CHENG!" A tall, stern looking boy slammed the door open, scooping Deadinette in his arms and blew out steam through his nostrils like a bull. Everyone le gasped as the girl suddenly turned into Alivenette and embraced the stranger like he's her long lost lover (Aiyeeeeeeeeeeee mUH O-T-FUCKING-P! K Y A A A! EVEN THOUGH WE KNOW JACKSHIT ABOUT HIM). "BELIX BRAGRESTE! You saved me~ Don't hurt my homiesexuals please- they're all brainwashed by the sausage haired girl..." The blackberry haired angel begged, tugging on Belix's sleeves. "I didn't do anything-" Uglydrien was quick to defend himself only to melt back down into a doormat by Belix's dark glare, ripping out what spinal tissue the model had left. "Damn straight you didn't do SHIT." Bragreste swiftly delivered a power-kick against Assgreste, yeeting him to the moon and then turned towards the rest of the f00king class, rolling his sleeves up. "As for you nerds...I'm gonna chop you all up into mincemeat and EAT you all with my spaghetti!-" "I'm here Marinette!!!" Another lad swooped in through the door, hips swaying to the beat as 'Luka Luka Night Fever' plays in the background and then posed! Why it's none other than the obviously best written, best character, best BOY in the world: RUKA COFFEE- sorry, I mean Luka Couffaine! He strummed his guitar a few times, nodding and humming as if he was conversing with the beautiful instrument whilst bokeh dots and pink sparkly glitter floated around him. "Ah~ my guitar said that everyone's being a bitch ass motherfucker to our beautiful designer! Come with my Mari~ Take my hand and I'll take you away from this school!" The lycee student didn't wait for her answer and grabbed the star struck girl oh SO romantically~ "No! She should move schools with me!" Belix Bananagreste snatched Nettie back possessively, just like a cat. It was then that the girl decided that when she managed to snatch the black cat miraculous back from the loser that currently wielded it, she was going to give it to Belix- "Ugh don't fuck with me..." "Shhh. You're supposed to have been yeeted to the moon, Chaton," "Marinette please just throttle the writer already-" AND THEN! SUDDENLY! Erm... Errr... AHA! Suddenly all these people from some furry superhero universe came flooding in through the door, yelling insults and real truths about LIE-LA and protecting my best girl Maribear like a boss! Heroes like Gamien and Dason Bob and that guy and err, the other guy and yeah AND THEN they all began to BEAT UP that BITCH LILA and then- "Oh no she's losing it, Adrien I don't think this will last any longer..." "No kidding!" THEN JAGGED STONE CAME FLYING THROUGH THE WINDOW, JAMMING OUT HIS LATEST SONG ABOUT HOW LILA IS SUCH A LIAR AND EXPOSED EVERY SINGLE THING SHE DID TO BEST GIRL MACHONETTE! THEN ALL THESE OTHER KIDS FROM THE SCRAPPED PV UNIVERSE CAME IN VIA A CONGO LINE AND MARINETTA DECIDED TO GIVE THEM THE OTHER MIRACULOUS COS WHY NOT!? AND THEN CHLOE BECAME MARINETTE'S NEW BFF COS HELL YEAH I LOVE VIBING WITH PEOPLE WHO BULLIED ME AND MY PEERS FOR FOUR YEARS STRAIGHT AHAHAAHAH QUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENS- "Adrien, I'm going to kill her. She needs to stop." "Go on then~" AND THEN! AND FUCKING THEN! SCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW!!!!!! . . . [Error 404: The following writer has unfortunately met her demise through unknown means. We apologise for any inconveniences. Please keep scrolling as we clear up the mess. Have a good day.] . . . "Huh...that was anticlimactic...now what?" "You go off snogging my rejected predecessor and the guitar boy? >:(" "As if I'd go for anyone other than my silly kitty!" ":D" . . . ~(x)~ A/N: I am never EVER writing anything this cursed AGAIN! How can you bash anyone but the villains in this series!? Damn! I can't even say I'm sleep deprived! This is the most fucked up shit I've written and I'm super alert oof!

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bethpeaches123 · 4 years

Text

Oh, it’s you.

So I had an idea rolling around in my brain for a little while, and then a real-life situation presented itself that was eerily similar to this, and instead of acting on it in real life, I’m acting on it in fanfiction form. Because it’s less risky, ha. Here’s some enemies to friends to luvers. I’ve also posted it on AO3 for your reading pleasure. :) Enjoy! I would love some feedback too!

“Thanks,” said Katniss Everdeen briskly to the Uber driver in the front seat of the red Corolla. He grunted his acknowledgement in response as her hand grasped the door handle and pushed the rear passenger-side door open, swinging her slender legs out onto the sidewalk. She leaned back into the car and grabbed the bottle of wine off the seat, then ducked out and straightened up, slamming the car door closed as it drove off.

Turning to face the towering brick townhouse belonging to her cousin Gale and her childhood best friend Madge, Katniss squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.

“You don’t have to stay all night. Just a couple of hours,” she muttered to herself. “That’s like…four half-hours. Or...six twenty-minute periods…or 12 ten-minute chunks…or…anyway, whatever. Just do it. It’s Madge’s birthday, she wants you to be here, just suck it up.”

The night wind suddenly swelled, a gust whooshing past her, stirring up a pile of dead brown leaves around her feet that had fallen from the maple tree on their tiny front lawn. She realized with a start that she probably looks a little crazy to any onlookers, standing on the sidewalk in front of a picturesque townhouse after dark, staring up at it and muttering irritatedly to herself.

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “You’ve gotta get out more, you’re losing it being alone in that apartment all the time,” she muttered again, before stopping and shaking her head. You’re doing it again; quit talking to yourself already and just go inside, she thought.

She adjusted the crossbody strap of her clutch (the bright gold colour was out of character for her, but it was a gift from her sister and the nicest purse she owned) and curled the loose strands of dark chocolate hair that had slipped free from her side braid behind her ears. Smoothing her forest green shirt dress down over her slim frame, she tweaked the braided brown leather belt around her waist and absently brushed a piece of lint from the right thigh of her black tights, glancing down at her camel-coloured heeled booties.

She wasn’t entirely sure of the dress code of the evening, but at twenty-five, they were still at that age of being grownups, but not totally grownups, if that made sense; they were old enough to legally drink the copious amounts of liquor they downed at one of Gale and Madge’s house parties, but they were still young enough to thankfully not feel the full force of a crippling hangover the next day.

Hopefully this looks okay, she thought. Who are you trying to impress anyway? Stop. Stalling, she grumbled internally.

Irritated was her mood of the night and the night was only just beginning.

Clutching the bottle of wine with the golden bow on the neck, she pulled open the wrought-iron gate and proceeded up the short staircase to the house.

Leaning over and pressing the doorbell off to the right of the heavy black door, she glanced up at the night sky over her left shoulder and her eyes flickered to the wind blowing in the trees again. It was a warm night for the end of October – so warm she’d left her jacket at home and opted for just the long-sleeved dress. It wasn’t like she was walking anywhere. She’d take an Uber home later.

Katniss could hear the sounds of an upbeat indie tune floating through the open living room bay window off to the left. Her eyes flicked back to the front just in time to hear a voice on the other side of the door, where it swung open to reveal the guest of honour for the evening.

“Katniss! Hey! God, I’m so glad you’re here – Gale was wondering when you were going to show. Now maybe he’ll finally shut up,” said Madge, her smile spreading across her face and reaching her arms out to hug her best friend.

“Sorry I’m late,” said Katniss sheepishly, squeezing her back. “Carl the Uber driver wasn’t as prompt as the app said he’d be. He won’t be getting five stars from me tonight.”

Madge’s grin grew. “No matter – you’re here now, that’s what counts,” replied the pretty blonde. Her eyes softened as she looked at her old friend, hesitating. “How are you doing? How’s…everything? After…everything last week?”

“I’m okay. Really. It’s getting better every day.” Katniss said, quietly. She really didn’t want to go into details right here, right now. Or ever. The evening was supposed to be a happy occasion, for Madge. Katniss didn’t want to get into the depressing details of the collapse of her relationship with her long-time boyfriend Darius a few weeks before and the messy division of their things when he moved out of their shared apartment.

“Good, I’m glad to hear that...listen, I know it’s not the time or place, so I won’t pry, but please, let’s go for coffee again this week. You can bitch all you want about how much of a douchebag he is, and I’ll happily reassure you how you’re so much better without him,” said the birthday girl wryly.

“Deal,” replied Katniss, a small smile on her lips. “Here – this is for you,” holding up the bottle of Nova 7 that she knew Madge loved. “I know technically I should’ve gotten you champagne for your champagne birthday, but I thought you’d like this more.”

“Oh my God you’re my favourite person, you know that, right?” squealed Madge. “I mean, besides Gale, but whatever – where did you get this?! I’ve been trying all the liquor stores around town and they said they haven’t gotten a shipment in ages!”

“I had it specially ordered from their website! I’m glad you’re happy – I love you, but I’m never going through that hassle again. Customs are a bitch,” grimaced Katniss. Getting the white wine shipped from Canada seemed a bit much, but 25 was a big birthday and Madge had been Katniss’s best friend ever since they’d been paired together in Mr. Heffernan’s English Lit class in sixth grade. She deserved to be on the receiving end of a splurge.

“Well, you and I are going to drink this together tonight – no one else gets a drop,” beamed Madge. “Come on, I’ll stick it in the back of the fridge so no one can get at it before we do.”

She stepped over the threshold into the front porch and started to toe off her booties when Madge glanced down and stopped her. “No, no, leave them on, they’re part of your whole outfit. You look really good tonight, by the way,” she said, appraisingly. “I mean, not that you don’t usually, but, y’know, dresses are kinda rare for you. I’m babbling. Ignore me. It’s the wine. Come get a glass or three and start drinking with me please,” pleaded Madge as she turned back towards the kitchen down the hall and spotted her new husband. “Gale! Gale, Katniss is here! Get her a glass of Riesling, ASAP!”

“Hey Catnip! Good to see you – finally,” smirked Gale as he strode down the front hall towards them, but Katniss could see gentle concern in his eyes. He didn’t think you’d show, she thought to herself. She mentally huffed at her cousin.

“Obviously I’m here, it’s not like I’d miss my best friend’s birthday,” she said, somewhat shortly.

“Oh – of course not, I know that, I j-just...anyway, I’m glad you’re here. There’s a taco dip with your name on it so I hope you came hungry,” her older cousin stammered, glancing at his wife for reinforcement.

Both he and Madge seemed a little on edge at her presence, like they were afraid anything they’d say would set her off in some way. She knew they were only worried about her since the breakup, but it still irritated her to think that their shared glances probably meant they’d been talking about her before she’d shown up. Katniss hated being the centre of anyone’s attention or gossip.

It’s not gossip; they’re concerned about you because they love you, Prim’s voice popped in her head. Her younger sister was always her voice of reason and regularly called her out when she got in her own head and complained about people being interested in her personal life. With Prim on the other side of the country in medical school at Stanford though, she wasn’t here in person to call her out. But Katniss knew her as well as she knew herself, and knew it was exactly what Prim would say in this situation.

Steeling herself and wiping the scowl off her face, Katniss offered Gale a small, embarrassed smile and said, “I was really hoping you’d make your famous taco dip. I skipped dinner specifically for it.”

A flicker of relief passed over his face and Gale turned and gestured for her to follow him towards the dining room down the hall as Madge returned to the living room filled with guests. “I even covered it in extra shredded old cheddar, your favourite,” he grinned.

“Mmmm, hell yes. Where are the chips? I’m digging in right away,” she said eagerly, following behind him.

As they bypassed the living room and entered the dining room, she glanced back towards the front of the house and scanned the crowd. There was already a decent number of people here, some faces she recognized like old college pals Rue, Thom and Thresh, but others she’d never seen before. Gale’s work friends, probably, she thought absently.

“Is Joanna coming?” Katniss asked, turning her attention back towards the spread of food. “I haven’t talked to her all week. I meant to text her earlier, but I forgot.”

“Yep, she said she’s coming by once she’s finished at the office. Some big case she’s working on or something,” Gale replied. “Let me get you that Riesling, I’ll be right back,” as he turned towards the kitchen, leaving her to focus on the food. Grabbing a plate from the stack off to the left, she started piling taco dip onto it, her mouth watering in anticipation.

“Yeesh, Everdeen – leave some for the rest of us, why don’t you?” drawled a familiar voice.

Oh no. Not him, she groaned inwardly, the flush of annoyance rising up her neck and spreading across her face. She stiffened as she heard him chuckle softly and reluctantly turned to face the speaker.

“Oh, it’s you. Hello Peeta,” she said politely. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Why? Obviously I’d come to celebrate Madge. Besides, would you have stayed home and not graced us with your presence had you’d known?” Peeta smirked.

“Hmm, something like that,” she replied, pursing her lips before continuing reluctantly. “How are you? How are Delly and Connor? He must be, what, three now?” enquiring after his wife and son.

“…Yeah, he’s three now. Three and a half, actually, as he’ll tell you. Time flies when you’re having fun,” Peeta replied grimly, averting his eyes from her face. Confused at his response, Katniss was saved from having to reply by Gale appearing to their sides with her glass of wine.

“One Riesling for the lady. Hey Peeta, what can I get you? Beer? Liquor? Something to wipe that sour expression off your face?” asked Gale, wryly.

“Beer is fine, thanks Gale,” the wavy-haired blond replied. “I have to have something that’ll help wash down this taco dip, if Katniss doesn’t eat it all first.”

Katniss scowled at him. “Chill out, Mellark, there’s plenty there. I barely took any,” she retorted. Grabbing her plate and piling on a handful of nacho chips quickly, she turned and carried the plate and her glass of wine away from the irritating man before he could respond. Fuck, he’s such a dick, she stewed. Why does he have to be related to Madge?

Peeta Mellark and Madge Undersee-Hawthorne were indeed cousins, but he was also a former classmate of theirs from junior high and high school. It wasn’t like he and Katniss were friends though – they couldn’t have been further from that. Complete opposites throughout their early days, Peeta was a popular jock who seemed to get along with everyone. Everyone except quiet, kept-to-herself Katniss.

She had no idea why he never warmed to her – she’d sometimes catch him staring at her across the classroom or in the hallways, but he rarely spoke to her throughout their academic careers. She’d usually shoot him a puzzled look in return, because that’s exactly what he did to her – puzzled her.

Stupid Peeta Mellark. Why did he have to be here? And where was his wife, Delly? Katniss hadn’t laid eyes on the blonde bitch yet, but she was sure she’d know when she entered the room because the temperature would probably drop to below freezing, just like Delly’s chilly demeanour.

Katniss was never friends with Peeta, but she never understood what he saw in Delly. What was the title of that book she’d seen in Barnes & Noble one time? Why Men Marry Bitches? Maybe someone should’ve picked up a copy for Peeta Mellark because he could use some psychoanalysis as to why he married someone so horrible. Though, considering what she’d heard about the elder Mrs. Mellark while in school, maybe someone should pick up a book called Why Men Marry Their Mothers for him instead.

She moved through the crowd towards Rue and Thresh, when a flash of short brown hair caught her eye in the main hallway. “Jo! In here!” she waved to the petite brunette in a black pencil skirt and crisp white collared shirt. Johanna was her and Madge’s former college roommate-turned-other-best-friend who was currently kicking ass working at the hottest law firm in the city. She was fresh out of law school and had to article for a year before she could pass the bar and be a full lawyer, but the partners at her firm were already so impressed by her drive and her no-holds-barred attitude, they’d already offered her a position once she’d passed the bar in a few months’ time.

“Hey Kitty-cat, how goes it?” said Johanna, snaking her arm around Katniss’ shoulders in a side hug. “Ooh, gimmie that, I earned a big drink after the freakin’ day I’ve had,” pulling the glass of wine from her friend’s hand and taking a big gulp, then grimacing. “Ugh, never mind, I forgot you like girly drinks. I need something harder tonight.”

“Wine is sophisticated, thank you very much. Rough day?” Katniss asked sympathetically, taking the glass back and swallowing a mouthful of the cold, sweet liquid.

“Fuck me, it was brutal. This lawsuit is gonna be the death of me and I’m not even a lawyer yet,” Johanna groaned. “If I have to read through one more brief, I’m gonna stab my eyeballs out and shove them down the managing partner’s throat.”

“Graphic, but okay, sure,” winced Katniss. Jo was never one to hold back with her…colourful language. “Here comes Gale – give him your drink order, he’ll get you sorted.”

“Hey Jo, want a whiskey?” asked Gale as he approached, sizing up the brunette’s irritated expression.

“You read my mind, Hawthorne. Make it a triple? Or will we all judge me?” Jo drawled, glancing at her friends.

“Nah, the night is young. We’re celebrating!” Gale grinned. “ice, right?”

“Yep, thanks. So, Kitty, how are you? Finally feeling free of that douche canoe, Darius? Jesus, I’m so glad that’s finally over. You were way too good for him.”

“I can always count on you to not mince words. Jesus,” Katniss shot back. She knew Johanna hadn’t been Darius’s biggest fan, but now that they were broken up, she didn’t hold back on voicing her dislike of him.

“Well, at least you didn’t marry him. Divorces are messy. Though, you would’ve had me as your lawyer and I would’ve milked that fucker for everything he had, so maybe it’s a bit of a loss. I would’ve enjoyed that,” smirked Jo.

“God, you’re unbelievable,” sighed Katniss, but she said it with a small smile. Even though her bark was bad, Jo’s bite wasn’t. Katniss knew it was her friend’s way of showing concern and care for her.

“Whatever, you know you love me. Hey, is that Peeta? I saw his bitchy wife when I came in but didn’t see him,” Johanna said, gazing towards the dining room.

“Ugh, yes. What a tool. I was barely in the room when he started harassing me about taking too much taco dip. I’m pretty sure every one of our friends knows that taco dip was made with me in mind – Gale knows it’s my favourite.” Katniss grumbled.

“Well, maybe he needs a reminder. You can tell him yourself, because he’s headed this way.”

“Ugh, fuck me.” Katniss groaned, her eyes rolling back into her head.

“Sorry Everdeen, I’m a married man,” smirked Peeta, coming up behind her, a bottle of Stella Artois in his grasp.

Katniss flushed at his response, while Johanna smiled blandly at the young man. “I wonder for how much longer,” she muttered under her breath so that only Katniss could hear. Katniss’s brow furrowed at the comment, but brushed it off. Odd.

“Ah, Peeta. Everyone’s favourite prick,” smirked Johanna as she raised her voice, her eyes flicking between Katniss and the tall, brawny blond.

Katniss snorted. “What a lovely description, Jo. Very flattering.”

Peeta shot Katniss an irritated look before turning back to Johanna. “Nice to see you too, Jo. How’s life at your hot shot firm? Madge tells me your bosses love you.”

“Yeah, I think it’s more so that they’re afraid of me. Which I’m fine with. Men need intimidation a lot more than they realize.” Johanna replied, smugly.

“Well, you’ve got that covered then,” Katniss piped up.

“Speaking of intimidating women, Mellark, where’s your wife? Still got your balls in a vise or what?”

“Jo! Jesus.” Katniss blurted, her eyes wide and flickering to Peeta to gage his reaction. She didn’t like Peeta, but she also didn’t like awkward conversations about people’s relationships. Or any kind of conversation about relationships.

Peeta stiffened slightly at Joanna’s remark and drew his mouth in a thin line. “She’s over there talking to some co-worker of Gale’s. She’s fine.”

“Really? That’s not what Madge sa-,”

“Jo, I think Gale is waving at you – he’s got your whiskey,” Katniss interrupted. If there was one thing that could shut Johanna up, it was the promise of liquor.

“Finally, be right back,” Johanna threw over her shoulder as she strode towards Gale in the dining room.

Peeta glanced at Katniss, a slight frown on his face, which she ignored. She was eager to move away from the subject of his wife. “How’s Connor? How old did you say he was again?” she asked, nervously. She realized too late that by drawing Johanna’s attention to Gale and her drink, she was leaving herself alone with the person she despised the most at the party. Great. Just when I thought I’d escaped him, I land myself in another conversation with him. Good one, Everdeen.

“…Um…he’s three and a half…what was Johanna talking about? What did Madge say about Delly?”

Katniss pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it, stalling. “Oh, nothing. She just…she said Delly seemed a little off lately, that’s all. I think she was concerned.”

Peeta snorted. “Concerned. Sure she was. You’re a terrible liar, Everdeen,” he said, bitterly.

Katniss glanced at him again, thinking awkwardly about the conversation she’d had with Madge the week before. Madge had made a passing comment to her and Jo about Delly being bitchier than usual and said Peeta seemed withdrawn and moody. It wasn’t really Delly she was concerned about; it was her cousin. Peeta wasn’t a bitter person. But ever since he and Delly married a few months before Connor’s birth, almost four years ago, they’d all seen a shift in him. He was friendly to everyone (except Katniss, of course) but there was an edge to him that hadn’t been there before. It seemed to be getting more and more pronounced as time went on.

Why do you care if he’s out of sorts? She didn’t, really. She was just curious. Even though he wasn’t nice to her, he was generally nice to everyone else, so to see him so bitter confused Katniss. Not that she cared, though. Because she didn’t. Really.

“Yeah, well, ask her yourself then. Excuse me, I need a refill.” Katniss said shortly, turning and leaving him alone for the second time that night.

_________________________________

The night wore on, with Katniss managing to avoid Peeta for the most part, sticking to chatting with Johanna or Madge or one of their other college friends. When she noticed Madge’s wine glass empty at the same time as hers as they were both pleasantly buzzed, she said, smiling, “what do you think, Mrs. Hawthorne? Time to crack open the Nova?”

“Excellent idea, Ms. Everdeen. Would you do the honours?” beamed Madge, her eyes a little glassy by now. The two of them made their way to the kitchen, where a few other people were already gathered, chatting. Katniss pulled open the refrigerator door and poked her head in, searching for the bottle of imported wine, but didn’t see it.

“Where’d you put it, Madge? Did you forget to put it in?” she asked.

“No, it’s in there, I swear – you know I love it super cold.” Madge replied breezily.

“What are you looking for?” asked another voice.

“A bottle of wine I brought for Madge– ” started Katniss, turning around and stopping, her eyes on Peeta Mellark.

And the bottle of Nova 7.

The empty bottle of Nova 7.

“…what the fuck. Are you KIDDING me right now? Did you open and DRINK that?!” Katniss screeched. “Are you actually kidding me?? Fuck you, Mellark!! Do you know what I went through to get that for her?!” She could feel hot tears forming in her eyes, catching her off guard.

Peeta had started to smirk, but when he saw her face, he faltered and his mouth dropped open slightly. “I didn’t–I thought–Gale said there was white wine in–we didn’t–” he stammered, his eyes darting to his wife’s, then back to Katniss's. Katniss hadn’t noticed Delly off to the side, her hand clutching an almost empty wine glass.

“What’s the big deal, it’s just a bottle of wine, there’s plenty here,” said the blonde woman testily as she rolled her eyes. “Personally, I never saw the appeal of Canadian wines. There are so many better brands from Australia or Spain. Canada’s not even that foreign; they’re like, right next door.”

Madge groaned and launched into Delly and Peeta, shouting about the importance of the special birthday gift to the oblivious couple. Katniss tuned her out as she could feel the heat rising in her neck up through her face. She was already having a shitty day moping over Darius and didn’t even want to come to the party in the first place; she definitely didn’t want to have to deal with stupid Peeta Mellark and his stupid bitch wife; and the only thing she’d been looking forward to was sharing the bottle with her best friend.

And the two of them had ruined it.

She had to get out of there before the tears spilled over and she embarrassed herself in front of them. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room without a backwards glance.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

#katniss everdeen #Peeta Mellark #everlark fanfiction #everlark fanfic #enemies to lovers

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usertoxicyaoi · 4 years

Text

Look, How Long This Love Can Hold Its Breath.

“Yet, like with most things in life, Pam follows what her gut says. First thought, best thought.”

Or,

My take on Pam, because she deserves better, as does Earn, as does every girl on this show.

Title: from Sierra DeMulder’s Your Love Finds Its Way Back. Words: 5.2K.

“You guys just can’t hide it when you see hot girls, can you?”

That statement, the resounding echo of it, sounds around the entire room, bouncing off the walls. It’s been minutes, hours, since it’d been spoken out into the universe. She shouldn’t, she knows this, yet Pam can’t help but focus in on two words in particular, as she lies under the covers in bed that night.

Hot Girls.

It was the way she, Earn, - Pam recalls her name as Sarawat introduced his bandmates to her - had said those words. She’d said it with so much conviction, a sureness, an assertiveness to her tone.

Hot Girls.

Pam shrugs off the covers and turns to her side. Suddenly, she feels a surge of heat incoming as she tries to form some meaning of what that statement could mean. Perhaps she was reading too much into it, and maybe it was just a flippant remark Earn had made, to quieten down the boys. Maybe she was just looking out for her, since they were the only two girls in a room that was otherwise populated with testosterone and Axe deodorant.

Pam sighs and grabs her phone from the bedside table. It reads 23:17 on her lockscreen. She knows, amongst all the other things, that she should get some rest and sleep. She has an early start tomorrow with enrolment to take care of, which means filling in form after form, and a grand tour of her Faculty building.

Yet, like with most things in life, Pam follows what her gut says. First thought, best thought.

She swipes across and unlocks her phone, opens Instagram, and finds the Ctrl S page. It’s like a reflex at this point, she could do this blindfolded. Ever since Sarawat had informed her of the band and sent her the link to the page, she followed it promptly and browsed through the posts, until she came upon it for the first time. Since then, it’s become a ritual for her.

She scrolls down the page until she finds it.

And it’s that one picture of Earn. And she looks mesmerising.

She’s glancing down, focusing on the chords she’s playing on the guitar to a song Pam has no idea of what it could be. Her hair is tied up into a ponytail, a little dishevelled just like it was earlier today, save for the few strands that frame both sides of her face. The lights are violet which surround her, that highlight the points of her cheekbones, and her skin glows. She looks so in her element, the pleasure she seeks from it pouring out as her passion for playing the strings, as though this was her purpose in life. She has her bottom lip bitten, chewed between her teeth. Perhaps it’s something of a habit Earn has when she’s in deep thought, Pam assumes.

Pam’s thumb absentmindedly begins to stroke across Earn’s lips through the screen. She doesn’t want to assume that it’s a habit. Rather, she’d like to know if it is.

That’s not the only thing she’d like to know, though. She’d like to know Earn’s favourite colour, her favourite time of the day, what annoys her. She’d like to know what it feels like to look directly into her eyes, the texture of her skin under her fingers, the feel of her lips-

And Pam always makes herself stop right there. She doesn’t dare let herself think any more beyond that. Pam locks her phone and places it on charge, swallowing thickly and exhaling the air from her lungs through a breath that shudders, that’s heard within the silence enveloping her room. She turns, her back to her phone and her face to the wall.

No one needed to know the real reason as to why she came here, to Bangkok, all the way from Chiang Mai. Why she transferred universities and dropped out from studying Medicine to pursuing Music instead. Logically, she knows it’s a risk, a huge one. Medicine was her forte, a sure-fire. Pam had had it all mapped out. By her mid-20s, she knew she’d be a successful graduate and would begin her practice as a novice and live a comfortable life.

And then Earn happened.

And what seemed so resolute and unshakeable didn’t seem so anymore. Her heart wasn’t into it any longer.

First thought, best thought.

Which led her here.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Pam shut her eyes, sending out a prayer to God, hoping she’d done the right thing, and let sleep take over her.

Sarawat told her he couldn’t teach her the guitar any longer. That something was the issue between him and Tine which required some time for healing and a lot of distance from her. Pam understood what that meant. She wasn’t one to intrude in spaces she was unwanted in.

But Sarawat was her best friend, and he wouldn’t leave her dry and hanging just like that. He said he knew someone that could teach her. When Pam asked him if she knew who it was, Sarawat stayed silent and looked, not at her, but through her, for the longest time. He held her gaze, composed, but Pam knew his brain was in overdrive right now.

Just the same way it would be when he was trying to calculate the weight of the consequences of his decisions, if whether going to that Scrubb concert last year was worth it or not when she, Man and Boss were pleading him to tag along.

“You’ll know them, soon,” he says, finally.

“Them?”

“Her.”

“Her?”

“Earn.”

Something changed, then. Not so much in the way that the world had tilted on its axis. But, in the way that there was a stepping stone being placed right at her feet. An alignment of sorts. A pathway being carved by God Himself.

He was listening.

The test was in a couple of weeks’ time. That’s not to say that Pam wasn’t panicking.

She was.

What little Sarawat had taught her last year in high school regarding basic chords on the guitar, she’d forgotten due to neglect.

She had her first practice session with Earn tomorrow, and she did not want to make a fool of herself. That meant latching on her phone and hinging onto every pathetic YouTube tutorial that could simply explain things, like how to hold the damn guitar properly, at a beginner’s level.

What Pam was graced with, though, was the skill of picking things up quickly. She deftly learnt at least the sufficient amount of know-how and the basics, enough to make her seem like a keen novice that wanted to learn how to play the guitar for the love of it.

Which she did, she’d remind herself constantly. It wasn’t just because of … her. Earn.

Somehow, it felt wrong to even think that. She wasn’t doing this all just to impress Earn enough into anything. She’d scrapped the entire script of her life away and rewrote a new one. Pam enjoyed music, but studying it felt like becoming intimately at one with it. It meant letting it consume you.

Pam just wanted to understand how that felt for Earn. How did she feel when she let something in, so closely, that she didn’t know where she ended or that something began? How did she feel about wilfully letting something consume you, whole and raw, bare and stripped?

How about if it wasn’t a thing, but rather, someone. A being. A girl …

“You’re persistent. I like that about you.”

Earn says that, just barely above a whisper, into Pam’s ear. Her entire body is draping over and around Pam’s. She’s holding the fingers of her left hand and pressing them against the strings on the neck of the guitar, informing her of just how much strength to apply, whilst showing her how to strum by holding her right hand.

It started off with them two sat opposite one another. Earn asked how much she knew, and Pam told her. Earn didn’t say anything in reply, just nodded whilst jutting her bottom lip out. Pam didn’t know what to make of that, didn’t know how to read her body talk.

She resorted to assuming that it was probably a form of silent appreciation. Earn hadn’t high tailed and ran out of the room yet, so, that was at least a positive.

Then she handed a guitar, her guitar, over to Pam.

It was the same guitar that was in that photo of Earn. The same guitar in the photo that Pam daily spent minutes on end, worshipping, in the stillness of the night, in her room with the curtains shut.

And all of a sudden it was in her hands, and she didn’t know what to do with them.

“Go on, I trust you with it. The only reason I’m giving it to you is because the strings are softer. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Somehow it felt like every word from Earn’s mouth was a lyric, something that belonged to a song. Something that moved you, made you want to sit and understand what that meant, what implication it held for you. Something that you didn’t want to misread or mistranslate the inference of.

‘What did she mean by that?’ was the only thing Pam could think of in that moment. It’s starting to become a habit now. Earn speaks, and Pam finds herself having to recalibrate all over again to understand the intent of her words, and to whom they’re said for.

The weight of those words linger in the air between them, until Pam sees Earn get up and walk towards her. She seats herself next to her and fixes the guitar into position within Pam’s arms.

And Pam can’t stop herself this time. There it is, this it what it feels like, to look directly into her round eyes. It feels safe, reassuring. It feels alluring, inviting. This is what it feels like, the texture of her skin. Its both rough and smooth, and she touches so softly but there’s a security in it.

“Play me what you know.”

“I don’t know how to play.”

“Mmmm.” Earn bites her bottom lip between her teeth.

‘Oh,’ … so it was a habit, then. Pam’s lips turn upwards into the smallest smile, that she keeps to herself.

“Do you want to start from the start with me, then?” asks Earn.

“Yeah. I … I’d like that.” says Pam.

Which is how they find themselves now, limbs wrapped around one another, with Earn gently whispering into Pam’s ear what chord is which and demonstrating it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a break?” asks Earn, turning her face to look at Pam.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’m not as delicate as I may seem.” Pam replies, a gentle laugh escaping her mouth. She finds it lovely that Earn worries.

“Mmmm.” Earn bites her bottom lip between her teeth, again. She looks adorable doing so, with her forehead creasing in concern. And then, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

There it is, again.

Pam swallows and looks directly back into Earn’s eyes. She needs Earn to know. “You’re not. You won’t. I trust you, just like you trusted me with your guitar.”

What Pam wasn’t expecting was for Earn to wistfully sigh, and then lean her head against Pam’s shoulder.

“Good. I don’t want to scare you away. Besides, Sarawat would kill me. He’s handed you over to me.”

There it is, again.

Perhaps it’d just be easier to let it be what it is. That is, if these words Earn speaks are for her and her only, said aloud with no one but them two alone in the practice room, then maybe Pam should let herself go. Maybe she shouldn’t chain herself and resist. Maybe she can allow herself to indulge in this, whatever this is.

First thought, best thought.

“And how are you going to handle me, then?” Pam asks, one foot in front of the next, as she bravely steps onto that stepping stone.

Earn looks up at her, and they’ve never been this close to each other, until yet.

“With absolute care,” she replies.

And that was enough for Pam.

Until it wasn’t.

Once you let yourself indulge, you become greedy, and a gluttony forms for the thing that satiates.

Of course, Pam knew that Earn’s Instagram page was tagged in that photo, but she never permitted herself to ever actually go onto her page. That felt like crossing a boundary. It felt too much, because that would mean Pam would get to see who Earn was, and the desire would only grow tenfold. So, it was better to not indulge at all.

But they’ve had several practice sessions since their first. The test is this week, on the Friday.

Every practice starts with Earn not even bothering to sit opposite Pam anymore. They immediately intertwine. Even when they don’t need to. Even when Pam had all the basic chords down and learnt.

The session they had today was spent discussing what song Pam was going to play during the test. That meant sharing headphones and scrolling through playlists, both on Pam and Earn’s phones. Earn writes down a list on potentials on paper, whilst leaning her head on Pam’s shoulder.

Pam doesn’t question it anymore; it’s just another habit Earn has.

They eventually decide on a song: Close, by Scrubb. Earn notes down the chords of the song, whilst Pam hums along and sings bits here and there.

“Your voice … it’s so beautiful.” Earn says.

Pam’s cheeks tint to a rosy pink, in response. Blood rushes there and everywhere, coursing warmth to spread right to the tips of her toes.

Earn laughs, mostly because Pam thinks that she knows that Earn knows what that did for her.

“Are you coming to the contest tomorrow?” Earn asks, taking the headphone from Pam’s ear and putting them away.

“Of course, I am. I don’t want to miss a chance to see you play.” Pam says, because she’s known it’s coming for the last week now. Everyone within the Faculty has been talking about it. There’s been such a buzz of excited nervous energy in the air as all attention has turned towards preparing for it.

But that’s not why Pam is so eager. It’s because she’ll finally get to witness Earn play. She’ll get to experience that beyond just through a photo and screen.

“Not miss a chance just to see me play? What about Sarawat? I thought he was your best friend?”

“I’ve seen him play plenty. It doesn’t excite me anymore.”

“And seeing me does?”

Pam’s head spins to look at Earn, and she’s sporting the widest smirk across her mouth. How does she do this to her, every single time?

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Pam says, a little too late, because Earn’s already biting her bottom lip again. It’s not out of concentration this time, Pam notices, but because she’s supressing something. A laugh? Another smirk?

“Go on, say it. Tease me. I know you want to.” Pam says, pouting, as she folds her arms and looks away.

“Not like this. I told you, I’ll handle you with care. I don’t want to hurt you,” but Pam can hear it in Earn’s voice. There’s sincerity, of course, but a hint of teasing too.

“Hmmm. And what about tomorrow? How are you going as?” Pam asks, tilting her face to the side to look at Earn up and down.

“What do you mean?” Earn scoffs.

“What? No makeup? Nothing a bit more special or fancy than the usual?”

“People come to watch me play the guitar, not come to watch me, per se.”

“And what if there’s someone that does?”

“Pray, tell.” Earn asks, leaning forward, ever so closely.

Pam’s gaze flits across Earn’s face. The way her hair frames it, the fullness of her lips, her nose. She’s beautiful. Breathtakingly so, this close.

First thought, best thought.

“Can I try something?” Pam asks.

“Go on.”

Pam leans forward and lifts her hand to find the tie keeping Earn’s hair up. She takes hold of it, making sure to keep her gaze locked with Earn’s for any sign of discomfort, and glides it downwards, until her hair loosens from its grip. She puts the hair tie to a side, and raises her hand again to take the some of the left section of Earn’s hair into her fingers, and place it forward. Her fingers rake slowly down her tresses, gliding so easily, not a knot to be found, and stills, just above Earn’s heart.

And there’s no lie to be found. It’s beating, hard, fast, alive.

“I’ve always wanted to see you with your hair down, but I didn’t know how to ask.” Pam says.

“You can ask me for anything, you know.”

“And you’d give it to me?”

“I’ll try, as hard as I can.”

“Then, can I dress you up tomorrow, after practice?”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

Earn laughs, resting her head forward against Pam’s shoulder, her face nestled in the space there.

“Remember when I told you that you were persistent, and that I liked that about you? I still do. Go ahead, I won’t stop you.” Earn whispers, right into Pam’s ear, her lips grazing the skin of her neck there.

So, that’s how Pam finds herself, that night, lying in bed, finally letting herself indulge. She can still feel the ghost of Earn’s lips grazing her skin, the shiver that followed, and how Earn’s beating heart felt under her palm. These things don’t lie.

First thought, best thought.

She lets herself go onto Earn’s Instagram page.

She lets herself admire Earn, post by post.

She lets herself follow Earn.

And when Earn follows her back straight away, she lets herself laugh freely, clutching her pillow and hiding her face in it.

That night, she sleeps sending a prayer of gratitude to God, and then lets herself repeat, “I like you, Earn,” just like another form of prayer, a mantra, over and over again.

The weight of the words don’t surprise her. It’s not heaviness she feels, but instead, relief. Her feelings have words that express them.

They manage to go over the chords of Close roughly, enough so that Pam familiarises herself with them. She can feel, rather than see, that Earn’s a little on edge today, because of nerves Pam assumes she’s probably feeling due to the contest. It’s in the way Earn keeps breathing heavily every so often, getting slightly distracted and then zoning back in.

Today, Pam decided to take matter into her own hands, and call the shots.

First thought, best thought.

“Right, come on. I’m going to dress you up.”

“But we haven’t finis-“

“Yes, we have.”

“Persistent.” Earn says, with a lop-sided smile directed at Pam, tilting her head to one side. It’s the first time she’s been this relaxed within the past 2 hours.

“Mmm, but you like it.” Pam tilts her head the other way, smiling back at Earn.

“I do. Yes, I do.” Each time she affirms that, there’s more and more sureness that gathers in her voice. Something that erases any hint or speck of doubt to even exist between them. It stirs something deep with Pam.

She starts off first by taking out her small make-up pouch that she bought along with her to practice. She doesn’t want to overwhelm Earn, or completely give her a make-over. She just wants to accentuate that beauty that she already possesses.

This was Earn trusting Pam to do as she pleased with her. Pam was going to respect that.

She had told Earn to bring along with her the concealer she wore and got to work with it. Earn’s skin didn’t require much of it, just enough to cover a couple of blemish marks, and brighten her under-eye a little. She set that with some loose powder, and saw how the bristles of the brush tickled Earn enough to make her giggle. That sound in itself was a melody, and Earn was visibly relaxing more and more, to the point where she seemed as though she was enjoying this.

‘Good’, Pam thought. She’d do whatever it took to make Earn feel at ease.

Then, she went in with a touch of bronzer, to simply add some depth and shadow, before adding a very small amount of golden sparkle onto the lids of Earn’s eyes. She let Earn apply the mascara for herself, whilst Pam dug out the last 3 things: blush, highlight and gloss.

Since Earn was going to be wearing her favourite brown jacket, Pam decided to go for a more peachy tone. She applied the blush across the apples of Earn’s cheeks, and bought it across the bridge of her nose too. She then applied just enough highlight, so that it could be seen, but not to the point where it took away from the rest of the make-up.

“Gloss will go on last. Now, let’s do your hair.” Pam spoke, as she stood to move behind Earn with her hairbrush and took out the hair tie binding Earn’s hair together into her ponytail. She carefully brushed through Earn’s hair, before parting it at the centre, and taking the strands of hair that usually framed both sides of her face into her fingers, plaiting them intricately and them pinning them secure to the back of her head. She applied hairspray for added hold, and then made her way back to face Earn again.

And there was something different about this Earn. She looked … softer, today. An innocence that Pam had never seen on her.

Was she blushing?

“Aren’t you going to complete me?” Earn asks, her gaze lowered.

Pam came and sat down opposite her, lifting Earn’s chin with her fingers so that their eyes met.

Without anything else needing to be said, Pam unscrewed the gloss, twirled the stick around the bottle to coat the brush evenly with the gloss, and leaned in to apply it.

She could feel Earn’s eyes on her, as she focused on putting the gloss on her lips properly. She could feel the warm air from Earn’s exhale tickle her skin, tickle her own lips. All it’d take is just moving an inch more closer, and Pam would know what Earn’s lips felt like on her own.

And her lips? Her lips were so full. Her bottom one marked with the fresh indents after her latest attempt at biting them between her teeth out of worry, and her cupid’s bow so prominent. She had lips that deserved to be softly pecked, once, twice, a thousand times. She had lips that deserved to be deeply kissed, bitten, tugged and stretched between teeth, to be opened and her mouth to be explored. To be left red and pink and worshipped and swollen with the blood pooling in them. They deserved hours of attention, that Pam wanted to provide.

Pam looked up at Earn. They were both caught in the act. At least it was even.

“Let me get your jacket, and then you’re complete.” Pam says, going to the door and getting it from where it was left hanging, hooked onto the peg.

She made her way round to stand behind Earn, opening the jacket so that Earn could put her arms through the sleeves, and pull it up, whilst Pam smoothed out her hair, so that her tresses fell on top of the back of her jacket.

Earn spun around and twirled for Pam, and there she was, complete and ready. She looked gorgeous. Every inch of her was so relaxed by now, that she was oozing confidence, as she picked up her guitar case.

“Don’t you want to see how you look?” asks Pam.

“I trust you.”

“Still. Hold on a second.” Pam made her way to her makeup pouch and took out her pocked sized mirror. Earn deserved to see herself in a floor to ceiling one, if she was being honest, but they’d have to make do for now.

She handed the mirror over to Earn, who looked at her reflection and gasped.

“Oh … Wow.”

“Good Wow or Bad Wow?”

“I’d kiss your cheek to say thank you if I didn’t have this gloss on kind of Wow.” Earn laughs, looking back up at Pam.

“You look stunning, Earn. You’ll be so great up there.”

“You think so? Sarawat’s been hammering it down just how badly we need to win this thing.”

“I believe in you, Earn.”

And then, a silence fell. Something in Pam told her it needed to be filled. One last form of encouragement.

First thought, best thought.

“If I said there was a way through which I could pass on some of belief to you, what would you say?” Pam asks, as she steps closer to Earn.

“What does that look like?”

“Something like this.”

And Pam lets herself kiss Earn’s cheek and linger.

“I’m not wearing gloss.” Pam whispers into Earn’s ear.

And if Pam was unsure if whether Earn was blushing before, she knows with absolution now, that she indeed is.

That night, once the contest is over and Ctrl S have won, Pam scrolls through Instagram and sees the pictures of Earn.

To know that she had some part to play in making her look like that, filled Pam up with pride. Knowing that Earn trusted her to this extent, filled her up with hope.

She prayed to God for strength, because she didn’t know how much longer now she could go on, without telling Earn the intensity of what she felt for her.

The day finally came.

It was Friday, the day of the test. Pam wanted nothing more than to make Earn proud. She didn’t want Earn to feel disappointed or let down. Pam had taken a spare guitar back to her dorm room from the practice room, and stayed up until the early hours of the morning, just before the sky blushed pink and the birds came out to sing, and practised.

The strings on this guitar weren’t soft. They were brutal. They cut through Pam’s skin.

But she was persistent, like Earn said. It’s the one thing Earn liked about her.

“Have you even slept at all? Look at your fingers! I said I wasn’t going to hurt you, Pam.” Earn complains to her, as she takes both of Pam’s hands in hers and inspects them in a secluded corner away from the other students in the Music room.

“And you haven’t. And yes, I slept for, like, 3 hours. I just want to make you proud.”

“And you will. I trust you. And that’s why you’re going to be using my guitar that we’ve been practising with for your test.” Earn says, sternly this time, leaving no room for arguments.

And then, she feels Earn’s lips kiss her cheek.

Earn simply shrugs at her.

“You need the belief, this time. Don’t worry, no gloss.”

And then she winks at her, before walking away to go and stand next to Sarawat, as the test begins.

Pam passes.

“Of course you would, I told you.” Earn’s smile is so bright, she’s beaming at her.

Pam’s just relieved it went well. She’d find herself constantly looking up and back at Earn through her trial, who never once took her eyes away from her. It should have been more nerve-wracking to play in front of her, yet it wasn’t. It was soothing, like a balm, her being there, mouthing the words along. Even Sarawat was left stunned.

“Can we talk, Earn?” Pam says, suddenly. Maybe it was elation speaking, but Pam knew she wouldn’t get presented a better chance than now. “Somewhere, where it’s just … us two.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

They make their way into a spare, vacant room on the floor, Pam shutting the door close behind her.

“Is everything okay?” Earn asks, concerned.

“Yeah. Urm.”

First thought, best thought.

Pam restarts.

“You know how you always say you like my persistence?” Pam asks, stepping closer to Earn, who steps closer to Pam, as they meet each other halfway.

“I do.”

“Is that the only thing?”

“That?”

“That you like about me?”

“If I did, would I have called you Hot during the first time I ever lay my eyes on you?”

“So you do … find me Hot?” Pam can’t even say the word out loud.

“Tremendously so.” Earn replies in the small space between them, raising her hand to caress Pam’s cheek with the back of her fingers, before resting it against her jaw, holding it. “I let you dress me up, I let you kiss my cheek, I let you use my guitar. I’ve held you and touched you. I’ve even let you into my dreams behind my eyelids.”

“Earn …” Pam says, like a lifeline, closing her eyes shut.

“Look at me, please, when I say what I’m about to say next.” Earn urges.

Pam opens her eyes to look directly into Earn’s.

“It’s you. Every. Single. Time.”, she says.

“I like you too, Earn.” Pam whispers, into that small space. It was as simple and as honest as that, yet it gathered every bit of her strength to say, “There’s something else I want to ask of you.”

“You can ask me anything, baby.” Earn says, brushing her nose against Pam’s.

“And you’d give it me?”

“In a heartbeat.” Earn says, her mouth pressing soft, open kisses on Pam’s cheeks, as her hand comes to tuck the loose strand of hair behind Pam’s ear.

“I want to know how they feel.” Pam says, pulling Earn by the waist, closer to her body.

“Kiss me, then.”

And it’s everything Pam had ever thought it would have been, only intensified. Earn kisses slowly, like she has all the time to give to Pam. Pam takes Earn’s bottom lip, between her teeth, and then bites down ever so gently into it. Its that sound that follows, that spills from Earn’s mouth, that moan, and it leaves Pam unhinged. She made her do that. And so, she does it again, and Earn moans for her again.

They kiss until Pam’s struggling to breathe, and she pulls back for air but Earn chases after her mouth and they’re kissing, again. Heads tilting to find a better angle, lips drawn open and Pam doesn’t even know where she ends and where Earn begins; their limbs intertwined, just like they’ve always found their way to end up being.

‘She wants this too. She wants me too.,’ is Pam’s first thought. On another day, she’ll ask Earn what her favourite colour, her favourite time of the day and what things annoy her are. She’ll one day even tell her how she left it all behind, just for her. She’ll thank God profusely for making this work out for her, for giving her that stepping stone.

But right now, her only thought, her best thought, is to indulge in kissing and giving Earn’s mouth the attention it deserves.

#2gether #2gether the series #earn x pam #*#wow over 5k lmao this got ....... Long.#but its what pam deserves!!!!

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queenmuzz · 4 years

Text

Deep Blue Sea: Chapter X

The Pieces (of Pizza) Fit

Read the full story on Ao3 Here! Where the Hell is my brother?

The voice, full of rage, nearly gave you a migraine as you struggled to get out of the unyielding grip. Slow to anger, my ass, you brain unhelpfully supplied to you as you frantically tried to get out of his grasp. At the same time, the clock was ticking as your oxygen levels depleted and your lungs protested. Great job, your brain continued, trying to get your crush (NOT MY CRUSH you corrected) to safety, only to get killed by the one man you thought could save him. If it weren’t for the fact that you kinda needed your brain to remain alive, you’d attempt to shut the damn thing off.

WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?

His grip tightened, and you could have heard an angry growl in the water, instead of in your head. And just when you felt like you couldn't take any more, you were pulled out of the water. You tried to take a breath of precious air, terrified that he’d dunk you back in, but he slammed you into the hull, knocking any remaining air out of you. Your head whacked painfully on the fiberglass frame, and your vision turned black for a moment. Your jackknife slipped out of your wet hands, and into the depths, leaving you nigh defenseless.

“I swear to the Tidemother, if you have touched a hair on his head, I’ll drag you to the deepest fucking depths of the ocean, and let the scavengers eat your corpse.”

You tried to respond, tried to tell him that you meant him no harm, but his face was full of fury, and now he gripped your neck in his webbed hands. Your hands latched on to his wrist, in a futile attempt to break free, but all you managed to do was to jostle the amulet free from under your shirt.

The glint of gold must have attracted his attention because he loosened his grip slightly allowing you to gasp out for air. Perhaps he recognized it as a sign that Vergil trusted you.

That idea went out the window as he snarled, and suddenly you were lifted up and thrown back onto the deck, sliding a metre and a half across the wood.

You barely had time to reorient yourself before you heard a massive splash, a crushing weight on your torso, and most worryingly of all, the cold, sharp tip of metal at your throat. Your vision rapidly cleared, you saw him on top of you, teeth bared, reared back, with an honest to God sword pointed at your throat. (Where the hell did that come from? your brain asked unhelpfully)

“I don’t go after humans,” his icy voice chilled you to the bone, “But for you…” the sword tip moved slightly to lift the amulet up, “I’ll gladly make an exception. Where. Is. He.”

“Help…” you managed to croak.

“Bit too late to be begging for help, babe” he sardonically replied.

You shook your head, and slowly grabbed the amulet, intending somehow to take it off, before, surprisingly it easily unlatched itself. Sparing a quick glance at it as you cautiously slid it to the side, you were perplexed that there was no clasp, no broken chain...magic?

No time to ruminate about it, you took another breath of air, praying that it wouldn’t be your last.

“Help….him”

Confusion flooded Dante’s face, as to your relief, he withdrew his weapon away from the hollow of your throat as he snatched the chain and scooted away from you. You took this precious moment to catch your breath, heaving in and out and when you had recovered some of your strength, you rolled over to see Dante clutching the amulet to his chest, a matching one in silver and red around his neck, his eyes shut tight. The sword was gone, and you were beginning to think your lack of oxygen had caused you to hallucinate it.

A good minute passed as you watched him, neither one of you moving an inch. What he was doing with it, you had no idea. You slowly backed up, you didn’t want to hurt him if he attacked again, you just wanted to convince him that you truly wanted his help.

And then, out of nowhere, the merman laughed. It wasn’t a soft chuckle like his brother’s, but it didn’t seem dangerous.

“Oh bro… you’re such an idiot…” he bent his head over the necklace, his wet hair obscuring most of his face, leaving only a toothy smile, “You know, once I get your tail fins out of there, I’m never gonna let you forget this, right?” You weren’t sure if he was talking to the gem, his brother, or himself.

He brushed his hair to the side, allowing you to see his face. It was much kinder than before, if a bit embarrassed. “I…. eh, sorry ‘bout that, kinda swam out before checking the current, you know what I mean? Mom always told me I was a bit impulsive. You okay?”

“Yeah…” your voice was raspy, but felt much better “Wait, did you just know what happened just by holding that?” you pointed at the chain, dangling in his hand.

“Well, I got the gist of it, it’s not like we can send messages like you humans do in your little things you carry around constantly, but it can give me a bubbleful of information.” He chuckled, “So, my brother’s been captured and being kept as a pet, but you’re a friend of his.”

Your heart warmed up at the fact that Vergil, despite everything, considered you worthy of friendship. You hoped that you could be on friendly terms with his brother. So you did the thing that worked with Vergil. Grabbing the cardboard box that had fallen to the deck in the kerfuffle, and opened it up.

“Want a piece?”

The way his nostrils flared and his eyes widened at the sight, you realized you had made the correct decision.

*****

“So, Verg says to me. ‘Brother, I wager you ten cordina to get on that boat and grab something from it’...” Dante regaled you as he worked on his fifth slice of pizza, savouring every mouthful. His imitation of his brother was quite on the nose. He lounged on the sunny side of the deck, still shielded from prying eyes by the way you tilted the sail, as you anchored the boat.

“And I says ‘you’re on!’ and I scope out this boat full of guys playing loud music. I’m looking for a way to sneak on the damn boat, but there’s waaaay too many people dancing or something. But I’ll do anything to prove my bro wrong, so I wait. And Wait. And Wait. But when the Dawnfather was just about to rise, everyone finally fell asleep. So I flop on board, and I’m terrified that I’ll wake up someone, but everyone is really sleeping, like if it wasn’t for those funny noises you guys make when you sleep, I’d think they were dead. I grab the first thing I see, one of these,” he held up the half eaten slice, “and I bring it to Verg, and he grumbly pays off the bet. But,” he finished off the slice, “what’s weird, this stuff was the real prize. Vergil could have offered me a hundred cordina for that one piece, and I’d have said no…. It was so fucking delicious. And now you come along with a whole box of this…” “Pizza”

“Mmmm… Pizza…” he picked up another slice and stretched out the cheese. “I gotta say, this is why I like you humans, you come out with some pretty delicious food. It’s hard to make this stuff when you are surrounded by water.”

You smiled. Vergil had said they were twins, and while they looked very similar, (aside from scale colour) their personalities couldn’t possibly be any more different. While Vergil was calm, composed, and contemplative Dante was brash, bombastic, and brazen. Vergil was disdainful of humanity, (although you couldn’t really blame him), while Dante seemed to enjoy the quirks humans had. But strangely, despite his totally different personality, you liked him, though not in the same way as his brother.

“So, you want to get my brother back to the open waters, eh?” He had emptied the box of its contents, and was now licking his fingers for any remnants of melted cheese.

“Yes, and I need your help to make sure he gets as far away as possible, and doesn’t try to do something that’s liable to get him captured again.”

“That I can do… although I can hardly believe that he actually regrets not listening to me. You sure he said that?”

“Pretty much…”

Dante went a bit serious… “Okay, it should be simple. You get him to the ocean...let’s say,” he scanned the horizon, before pointing at the beach that lay next to the suspension bridge that linked both sides of the bay. “Right there. Should be when the next time the Tidemother shows her full face, that’ll give you enough light to see, to slip him out, and also the tide will be up, making the trek to the water’s edge as simple as possible. I’ll be waiting, and I’ll drag him by the tail fins out of here, if I have to…. and knowing Vergil, that’s probably literally, not figuratively speaking.”

“That simple?” you were perplexed. Surely there had to be more, or else Vergil would have been dropped off a long time ago, before you had time to develop feelings for him.

“Should be, I mean, you come across any trouble, he can probably use Yamato to get rid of any problems.” He now was scraping the melted cheese off the bottom of the box, and you were worried that if you didn’t stop him, he’d just eat the entire thing, cardboard and all.

“Yamato?” you’d never heard that term before.

Dante dropped the box, looking alarmed, “Wait, he hasn’t shown you Yamato?” his eyebrows shot up, “okay, that makes sense on why he’s been stuck… he doesn’t have his, …. um….” he cocked his head in thought, “I guess a rough translation would be ‘soul-weapon.’” You shook your head. Vergil had never mentioned anything about a weapon.

Dante continued, “I don’t really know how you humans see your souls, but the gist is, everyone of us has a weapon that’s intrinsically connected with our soul, our very being.” He rubbed his head, “some of us have harpoons, others daggers, even have a few with a trident. Me on the other hand…” his hand waved out, and instantly, in a red flash, appeared a sword. You hadn’t imagined it! “This is Rebellion, ain’t she a beaut?”

You had to agree. It was a long solid sword, with what seemed to be a stylized human skull at the crossguard, but with shark teeth poking out from where the eyes were, as well as embedded into the ricasso of the blade. It definitely was intimidating. “So, a brief summary of how we look at our lives. Us Merfolk see life like the way water moves. Water flows throughout the ocean, until the Dawnfather decides it is time for it to ascend, and so the water becomes the clouds above, before raining back down and eventually rejoining the ocean. It’s a cycle.”

“Ah,” you nodded, “like reincarnation”

“I guess?” Dante shrugged, “the philosophy of it all was all mom’s and Verg’s thing. Anyways,” he looked at Rebellion, “like I said, the weapon is linked to our soul, and if anything happens to it, it’s like someone took a bucketful of that water and just locked it away, never able to return to the ocean, or repeat the cycle. And it’s irreversible, a fate worse than death.”

Instantly, your mind went back to something similar Vergil had said all those months ago, and you remembered the ‘leash’ the good Doctor had in a long slender briefcase. The pieces were beginning to fit.

“I mean, it’s hard to damage one of these, but it can be done, and most likely there’s the connection that's the issue.”

“The connection?”

“You can’t stray too far from your weapon, that’s why if you get too far, SNAP,” Rebellion dissipated in a shower of sparks. “It’s the same as if the weapon got destroyed. Somebody probably got a hold of Yamato, and you got lucky that they haven’t gone too far with it, or they know that they can use it over him.” his brow furrowed. “On the bright side, it means it can’t be too far from where he is right now, so you won’t have to search too far. But on the other hand… I’m still trying to figure out why he never told you about this…” he seemed honestly puzzled , “I mean, he trusted you enough with the amulet.” It worried you too. Was Vergil too proud to ask a mere human, even one he was on good terms with for aid? If he had just asked, you would have dropped everything to find and get this Yamato back for him. It would have saved you a lot of heartache.

“I think..” you said, “I know where his sword would be.” The warehouse. It was the only building Doctor Griffon could possibly keep the ‘leash’. It wouldn’t be hard to get to, you had keys and codes for all the buildings on the property.

“Good!” his face brightened, “you get that sword to him, and you bring him here, and I can get him out. Easy as swimming!”

“Yeah… easy as swimming” You attempted to match his enthusiasm.

“You know, you’re a good person. Vergil has never been too close with humans, especially after mom and dad… well,” his features fell, “I thought I lost him too… was halfway about to follow him on a suicidal attack. When I felt the amulet,” he clutched it tightly in his hand, “I thought that he’d escaped, and when I found out it was a human, I just… I just snapped.”

“You don’t have to apologise, Dante. He’s your brother, after all.”

“Well, he’s a lucky son-of-a-barnacle to have an Odar like you, Dawnfather knows what would have happened to him if he didn’t meet you.”

You were slightly confused, “Odar? Never heard that term.”

“Ah, keep forgetting you’re not familiar with Old Mer. Basically a term for a human, but in a good way” he clarified. “Oh,” you murmured, mostly to yourself. “That’s not what Vergil calls me.”

“Ah? What does he call you? It better not be ‘Chiktik’, or I’ll be punching him in the face when he gets back.”

“He calls me… Sifa.”

There were a few moments of silence, with only the gentle lapping of water against the hull, and the flap of the sail in the breeze. Dante just stared at you, jaw dangling, looking exactly like a moray eel. And then, to your astonishment… he just started laughing.

“Verg… of all the mer… well, I guess the polyp doesn’t drift too far from the coral. Mom would be proud of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“He seriously hasn’t told you what it meant?”

“Vergil said it meant, ‘human,’” you answered and the red scaled merman cackled before looking up to you with a big grin.

“You really want to know what it means?”

You bit your lower lip, afraid to know, but yet still intrigued, and after some hesitation, you nodded.

“There’s not a perfect translation, but basically, it means ‘Beloved’. It’s a term you only use… well, for someone you really care about. Someone…” he paused, as if for emphasis. “You love.”

It was a good thing you were already sitting, because your legs began to feel like jelly, numbness spreading to your chest.

“He can’t…” you managed to wheeze out.

“Why not?” Dante asked.

“I’m basically his jailor! There’s no possible way he could be truly in love with me!” You tried to protest. But to your dawning horror, you realized a whole plethora of signs that he had been developing feelings for you. The songs, the glances, the gentle touches. Your head sank into your hands as you stared at the wood. How could you have been so stupid? How could you have been so blind?

Or...maybe you had known, you just didn’t want to accept the truth.

“Well,” Dante added unhelpfully, “you don’t just call anyone Sifa, it's a fairly dedicated term, and Vergil wouldn’t just call you that if he didn’t mean it.” He slipped back into the water gracefully, apparently oblivious to the turmoil that he had inadvertently caused.

“But there’s no way it would work between us! I mean,” you pointed at your legs “we’re not even the same species!”

His response was to laugh. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was Vergil’s brother, you’d have clobbered him for his continued ignorance about how much this affected you. “I don’t really think that’s much of an issue, but that’s not for me to say,” he responded cryptically. “I’m sure Verg can fill you in.”

And with that, he slipped back into the water, leaving you staring at the trail of bubbles.

No, you were not going to speak to Vergil about any of this. You were going to keep this whole revelation to yourself, and focus on locating that sword and then getting him home. It would be painful, but it was for the best for both of you. That’s what you kept telling yourself.

Without warning, the water opened up again to reveal the smiling visage of Dante, his hand outstretched, holding your jackknife, and his own amulet, keeping the golden one around his neck. “Meetcha when the Tidemother is at her highest point when she shows her full face! Good luck!” and after handing the blade and the silver amulet to you, he swam off, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, leaving you alone with your turbulent thoughts.

*****

You returned back home, to see an expectant Vergil poised at the edge of the platform. His eyes widened as you nodded and handed him the silver amulet, proof that you’d finally met his elusive brother. He clutched it tightly, and for a moment you panicked, wondering if he was somehow able to look into the latest conversation you and Dante had. But when he opened his eyes, they were full of relief and happiness.

“Ah, so he is well.” He leaned back in the water as he placed the chain around his neck, “That is good, that is good.”

You attempted to add some sort of joviality, “He thinks you’re an idiot for getting yourself captured.”

Vergil chuckled, “That does sound like him. But at least he’s alright…” he turned to you, smiling gratefully. “Thank You, Sifa.”

You successfully managed to hide the pain that word caused you as you gave him your best grin.

“Anything for you, Vergil”

#Devil May Cry #Deep Blue Sea #vergil x reader #Vergil #Mergil

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lnarizakis · 4 years

Text

ranking haikyuu!! schools based on their school spirit

before you grill me with my rankings please know that i! love! all! of! these! schools! equally! i do not hate any particular school; i am simply ranking their school spirit. this is also lowkey crack because what everyone said made me laugh and honestly i came up with this idea for the laughs. so, like, don’t take this personally.

thanks everyone who helped participate by filling out the google form!! everything you’ve said i used in this. we will be going from last place to first place, so let’s start!! btw i ranked 11 schools into 10 places, so there are two 10th placers HAHAH anywayssss

10: ITACHIYAMA, NOHEBI

Alright, so let’s start with Itachiyama. I got one person who mentioned them in my last category, which was “any other school i didn’t mention? & why” and honestly we don’t know anything about them. But perhaps the mere fact that they were winners says something I guess?

❝ itachiyama bc the school are WINNER WINNERS i wanna see their hype ❞

❝ i’m sorry who ,,,, i deadass don’t know that team eye— are they from the last season ???? if so that’s why LMAOSNAKBS WAIT IS THIS GERMAPHOBES TEAM ??? THOSE NEON PISS PUKE LOOKING BOYS SOSNSJNSJDHS bro i’d drop tf out of that school if they gave me that ugly ass uniform OH MY GOD WHAT DOES THIER SCHOOL UNIFORM LOOK LIKE SKBAIABSJS BRO IMAGINE ❞ (about Nohebi but referring to Itachiyama)

Moving onto Nohebi: their tactics, as we’ve seen in the OVA, aren’t the most...... ethical. Though, they’re still supported by their cheering section so I guess it’s fine by their entire school?

❝ From what I recall, the schools pretty implicit in the teams techniques so at the very least they take pride or believe in the teams tactics enough to support them. ❞

❝ they be cheating >:( ❞

❝ nohebi scares me for no reason❞

Despite this, they’re still a team that shows solid support for one another.

❝ support all teams because all of them could trash me if it came down to it ❞

❝ they have fighting spirit alright but i just don't approve of their methods❞

❝ their stage play SLAPPED ❞

9: WAKUTANI

Okay, the team as a whole shows support for one another, especially their captain, Takeru. However, from what I recall, there’s not much... school spirit coming from their actual school. From Takeru’s family? Definitely, but they’re not the actual school.

❝ wasnt wakutani pretty good i don’t remembee ❞

❝ wakutani - a solid 8 ❞

❝ wakutani south because takeru’s family carried the cheer period ❞

8: JOHZENJI

Their whole team radiates spirit, but I don’t remember if they actually have a cheering section. Unlike Wakutani, where most of their spirit/support came directly from Takeru, each one of the members of the team had their own school spirit. Their school spirit isn’t that recognizable to be remembered by most people, though.

❝ a six cause i don’t really remember if their school was even there like ???? all i remember is baby teru and his fellow goofball second years that i absolutely adore, i am them. LMAO if i were to— fuck how do you spell realistic THERE SINSNSJ if i were to realistically join one of the haikyuu schools it would be johzenji cause i just vibe with those boys so much ksbsksj no brain cell squad ❞

❝ they ARE the spirit ❞

❝ not serious enough askdjsa ❞

❝ they appeared onc but even when they wanted to win, they just wanted to win to play around? there's that i guess ❞

❝ i don’t remember ❞

❝ I don’t remember much about them tbh ❞

❝ well... ❞

7: KARASUNO

Much apologies to the OG team. For one thing, their cheering squad, while I must admit is very impressive and loud, is not Karasuno High School itself. It’s literally coposed of a bunch of outside associations. And when their cheering section from the actual school does show up, they’re not even synchronized; they practiced for one day and called it “school spirit.” They showed up for one match and that was it.

❝ did you see them at the shiratorizawa match? they weren’t even synchronized ❞

❝ they mean to their vb team and they had a wack ass cheer team but character development ❞

❝ chaotic good but crows ❞

❝ mmmm we don't see too much of the school rlly apart from the vbc,, but what we do see is pretty supportive ❞

❝ LMAO remember during the first season when the school REUSED an old banner for the boys but not only was it a old banner but a banner for a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT sport yea lmao that’s just fucked up jsjsj also i don’t really see that much school spirit like ???? no taste at all ❞

I guess their school spirit within the team, their fighting spirit, makes up for it. Again, my greatest apologies to Karasuno. You can do much better than that.

❝ The way the whole school came out to support the vbc before the shiratorizawa match,,, I love them so much!! Also Saeko coming in with a DRUM TEAM for the Inarizaki match,,, like they’re so so supportive and Karasuno’s not a rich school like Shiratorizawa, it doesn’t have a highly ranked band like Inarizaki but like the team itself they’re plucky and do the best they can with what they’ve got. ❞

❝ They have the most dedication to me ❞

❝ they're so supportive of each other and very chaotic, all of them ❞

❝ kageyama tobio could get some !! ❞

6: NEKOMA

Honestly, I had a hard time choosing whether to put Karasuno or Nekoma in sixth place. I went with Nekoma because of Kuroo’s “inspirational” pep talk, which really shows the bond between each of the members of the team, but they’re still ranked pretty low because I can’t get that one scene out of my head from the manga where it’s this one match (I won’t say which one) where students from Nekoma attend the match and a couple of them go, “Wow, this is my first volleyball match that I’ve been to!” Like, dude, seriously? Wow. They also take sixth since their cheering squad, also composed of students, is led by a Nekoma Junior High student. We love supportive sisters.

❝ stage play cheer stage play cheer stage play cheer stage play cheer ❞

❝ i just love nekoma ❞

❝ chaotic good but cats ❞

❝ kuroo tetsurou ❞

❝ deadass it’s 2 am and i have no idea what i’m doing but anyways 7/10 cause i like their stage song/cheer ya know NEKO NEKO NEKOMA like it’s cute ksjsjs besides that i have no idea LMAO ❞

❝ they're very subtle even tho they have chaotic moments, they're more focused on defense while playing ❞

❝ Some of them really care and some dont ❞

❝ they’re all so into it! Like, Akane with the megaphone, Alisa screaming Lev’s name, they’re all pretty devoted. ❞

5: FUKURŌDANI

I would have ranked them a little higher if it weren’t for other more spirited schools. The whole school knows how to hype up Bokuto, along with cheers of their own. The team itself knows each member so well that they’re able to adapt to whatever their ace is feeling.

❝ stage play was good but not as good as nekoma stage play ❞

❝ they have to hype up bokuto ❞

❝ CHAOTIC ENERGY + BOKUTO SUNSHINE BOY and i am bias + THEIR COLOURS + JERSEY OMG ❞

❝ owl boy & pretty setter ❞

❝ FUCK why can’t i think of any of the episodes where they show the student body like ??? school spirit is nonexistent in my eyes i can’t recall a thing— anywhore 9/10 for my owl babies because i believe bokuto hypes up the students ALOT and therefore they are more into ya know spirit woo ❞

❝ have u seen their dynamic? they're strong and so supportive of their ace, their captain, the family bokuto needed - i could go on but yes, i think u get the picture ❞

❝ They love Bokuto so much 🥺 they’re all v supportive of the team and it seems like they also know how to get him to perform better and Fukurodani’s a powerhouse so I feel like they get into it. ❞

4: AOBA JOHSAI

Their cheering squad is so synchronized and so well-performed. They know what they’re doing and when to do things. You can tell they’re devoted. School spirit within their team is pretty strong, and they have a good bond with each other.

❝ fangirls can do anything ❞

❝ oikawa kinnies ❞

❝ chaotic good but plants ❞

❝ i don’t know whether they have school spirit or they’re just fans of oikawa LMAOOO AND YOU CAN QUOTE ME ON THAT KSBSKSJS like deadass it’s just his fan girls ya know what i’m saying ❞

❝ MANNN THEIR *CHEERS* I'M- ❞

❝ OAHAISOAOAHAHHA SEIJOHHHHHHH ❞

❝ i love them for the 3rd years but that's about it ❞

❝ From what I can recall there’s nothing super special about them? I do love how they say olé for all of Oikawa’s serves (but ppl do that for other schools, so) ❞

3: SHIRATORIZAWA

So much to say about them. From their entire cheering squad that consists of both cheerleaders and drummers, to the fact that when they feel like they’re being challenged with who can cheer louder they start singing their school anthem? Absolutely powerful.

❝ cheerleaders ❞

❝ i would not want to be in preppy school but i do love SHIIIRATORIZAWA ❞

❝ they are close like family uwu tho they seem to be SUPER STRESSED bc studies ❞

❝ 10/10 cause have you heard their cheer? god tier. that shit would distract me so much during a game like what’s the purpose of being so god damn loud and extra other than distracting the enemy ??? i rest my case ❞

❝ SHIIIIIRATORIZA (also ushiwaka has his own lil cheer so like yes i support) ❞

❝ i dont particularly like or dislike anyone from them and simple is best so ?? ❞

❝ The Shiratorizawa chant is so simple, so good,,, I think they were also the first team we saw with actual cheerleaders too! Nice big rich private school cheersquad money right? ❞

2: DATEKO

Need I say more?

1: INARIZAKI

There’s too much to say. They’re so extra it’s unbelievable. The entire cheering section knows how to adapt to each members’ likes and dislikes, and will call others out when they need to do so. For instance, when that one guy asked the two girls not to cheer while Atsumu is serving? Absolutely wild. And when they start booing or play a tempo to throw off the opponent whenever it’s the other team’s serve? Their practice and precision really shows. It’s crazy. And I’m pretty sure that they’re the only school that brings their entire orchestra to play during the matches.

❝ according to the wiki their marching band literally works to throw off the other team and if that’s not dedication idk what is ❞

❝ atsumu, shush me anytime ✨✨ ❞

❝ idk them asdas ❞

❝ deadass i’ve been on episode two of the latest season ( is it four or three?? i can’t fucking remember,,, 2 am is no brain cell hours ) for w e e k s because of second hand embarrassment. periodt. like hinata baby pls i’m begging. anyways suna is a god in my eyes, i deadass thought sakusa ( the germaphobe right?? ) was on the same team guess not i don’t know his uniform is ugly tho looking like a fucking germ himself ( THAT WAS GOLDEN SISJSJ IM PROUD OF MYSELF ), and lastly i have fallen in love with the man that is osamu, he can cook,... and he can do a whole lot of other things but my brain is malfunctioning so we’re gonna stop right there. #stanosamuforcleanskin ❞

❝ they have a fucking BAND ❞

❝ another chaotic team with their very own freak twins, i ranked them high because holy fuck that cheering band?? ❞

❝ Inarizaki’s cheer squad,,,, personally I lowkey hate them because deadass BOOING another player is tacky at best and kinda rude but my GOD do they put in the work. Cheerleaders, top ranked band, the timing and tempo thing? Insane. Oh, and the way they actually go silent for Atsumu like how the fuck did he pull that off?? ❞

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks for reading! I’m glad you read this far. I hope this made you at least smile just a little bit because it definitely made me smile. And please don’t think that I don’t like any of the teams! I love each and every one of them; it’s just that some have more school spirit than others... anyways!

Whoever sent this, I just wanted to let you know that you made my entire day when I first read that. It was so unbelievably funny HAHAH

#idk if i could classify this as something that hqwn would reblog so im not gonna add a tag hehe #uhhhh #please enjoy #haikyuu!!#haikyu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #itachiyama #nohebi #johzenji #karasuno #nekoma #fukurodani #seijoh #aoba johsai #shiratorizawa #dateko #date tech #inarizaki

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mmmmmspicey · 4 years

Text

Trust

Janus yawned, coming downstairs to the smell of breakfast. He rubbed at his eyes before looking at the kitchen before him.

Patton was making breakfast, and-

Ah. Janus’ eyes narrowed. Roman and Remus’ pet was at his feet.

A pathetic little cum dumpster they called “Ethan.” He was wearing a pale pink shirt, open at the front, grey sweatpants, and a light blue collar.

Ethan was designed to help any side with any problem they may have. He was made to satisfy, and most sides used him for sexual purposes. Janus turned up his nose and scoffed. “Ethan, get off the dirty floor.”

Ethan looked up at his master. Patton smiled and gave his hair a pat. “He’s fine where he is. A sub knows his place.” Ethan gave a gentle mew and leaned up into his master’s touch.

Janus hissed with annoyance, grabbing a cup of coffee and sitting down on couch.

He didn’t like Ethan. Not one bit. He was too… helpful. Too easy. And he made too much noise when he was slamming another side into the mattress. How could the others trust him? He was made by the twins!

He smirked. He could handle such urges on his own.

That night, Janus was feeling a little pent up. He decided a bit of self care was in order.

——————

He traced his hand over his clothed cock and ground up, feeling himself getting hard. He pulled off his shirt, grabbed a bottle of lube and got ready for a good time.

——————

“Cmon, please, please just…” Janus panted, working his hand faster and harder over his cock, pushing his fingers relentlessly against his prostate, letting out a moan as he felt his arousal climb further.

He had been there for two hours. Two hours meaninglessly, hopelessly pumping and jerking his cock, his fingers prodding and searching for any more stimulation, but god he’s been trying for so long it was energy draining. He just wants to cum.

He felt his arousal fall away once again and Janus wanted to scream. His cock softened and Janus furiously punched his pillow.

But he was still frustrated. His hips jerked down onto the mattress below him and he quickly started to hump it, moving his hips faster and faster to get something, anything…

Tears sprung to his eyes as he heard footsteps walking past.

He looked up right as Ethan walked into the room.

Janus froze, his hips stopping their frantic movement as his cock gave an annoyed twitch.

Ethan’s jaw dropped, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I… I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked, I’ll be going now-“

“No wait!” The words leave his mouth before he even has time to think about them. “Help. Please. Please stay, I’m…” a sob leaves his throat as his hips press down again. His cock aches, he’s so pent up, a burning heat in his groin that refuses to dissipate.

Ethan’s look of shock moulded into a smirk. “Oh? Is someone a little desperate?” He said, making a shiver run down Janus’ spine. God, Ethan really was sexy.

“N-n-no…” Janus lied, his brow knitting together as he let out a soft moan, his hips moving faster and faster over the pillow.

Ethan’s dick gave a sizeable twitch at Janus’ moaning and the sexy way he humped the pillow like a dog. “You need some help, honey? How long have you been trying to cum, love?”

Janus’ toes curl at the nicknames and he finds himself unable to speak. “Um… t-two hours…”

Ethan can’t help the image that passed through his brain, images of Janus riding his own sloppy fingers, begging to cum, covered in his own slick. His cock stiffened.

He clicks his tongue and sits down on Janus’ bed beside the needy boy. “Off the pillow now, like that, good boy.” Ethan can see the dark stain of pre on the fabric and his cock hardens further. Two hours of teasing to get a pillow this sloppy.

Janus’ dick throbs at being called a good boy and he lets out a lewd moan. “Oh? Does someone have a praise kink?” Ethan teased, settling Janus down on his lap.

Janus blushed and turned his head away from Ethan. “Shut up.”

He shifted, getting comfortable in Ethan’s awfully warm and nice lap. He smelled like rain and cinnamon, and despite Janus’ reservations he leaned into his touch.

“Such a desperate baby boy. So good for me.” Ethan’s strong hand wrapped around his aching cock and began to stroke it slowly from base to tip.

Janus shuttered at getting some satisfying stimulation for once. “Uh! You…”

“You like my hand on your cock? Me giving you all the attention you deserve?”

“T-This is a one time thing!” Janus snapped. “Ahh! Mmm…”

“Oh but don’t I make you feel so good? This is what you’ve been missing out on, being so stubborn and refusing my help~” He hummed melodically, thumbing the head of his cock and playing with the underside.

“Ssstop teasing… just help me c-cum…” He whined, fidgeting in Ethan’s grip.

“Do you want my fingers baby? I see your perfect little ass squirming for me.”

Janus gasped as another wave of pleasure ripped through him. “Mmmm! Fingers! Please, want to be filled and fucked! Need to be satisfied, please!” His hole practically ached, clenching around nothing, begging for Ethan’s touch inside him. He had such big hands, they would feel so thick…

“Shh baby, relax. It’s all good, I’ve got you.” He angled Janus so his legs were spread as far as they could go, knees bent, back to Ethan’s chest. Ethan summoned lube onto his fingers and slowly rubbed around Janus’ puckered hole.

Janus bit his lip, breath coming in short pants, fighting to free his hands from Ethan’s grip. The heat inside him was sweltering as Ethan started to press two fingers in. “See, you need my help so bad after trying so hard.” Janus nodded, face screwed up with pleasure as the fingers breached him, the hand on his cock moving just satisfying enough. He let out a short whine as Ethan pushed into the middle knuckle.

“Yessss… need your help. Ssso good to me, to everyone-!” He yipped as Ethan started to pump his fingers in and out at the same wonderfully satisfying pace he moved his cock. Pressing in deep and pulling out slow, easily finding his prostate.

Janus jolted, letting out a lewd moan. “There! R-right there, feels so good.”

“Ah, you’re so tight, my good boy. Want me to keep touching riggghhht… here?” He teased, pressing into his prostate hard enough to make Janus shiver from the pleasure, heat rolling through him in waves, the coil tightening.

“You did so well trying to cum on your own but sometimes it’s not enough, is it? I’ve got a little present I use on really desperate boys.” Ethan gave him a wink and summoned a pink, thick dildo with ribbed edges. Janus’ eyes lit up at the sight of it, his empty hole longing to clench around the slick silicone.

“See baby? This toy will fill you better than fingers ever could, and maybe it’ll tip the scales-“ Ethan tilted the dildo to the side “and make that weeping cock burst.”

“P-please! So big, would feel so good inside me!”

“Of course my good boy. Such a pretty little thing, all wound up and needy.”

Janus whined as Ethan angled him right and started to push in the toy.

He couldn’t stop the moan that burst out his throat. “I’m n-not needy! Ah!” He squirmed, trying to adjust and get the whole toy in faster. He was needy, he was so needy, he desperately needed the silicone cock inside him.

Ethan kept on pushing it in, reviling in the moans and whines of Janus.

When he got it all the way in, Janus openly shrieked. Ethan smirked. “How’s that feel? Are you full enough now, baby? Does that soothe the ache inside you?”

“YESSSS! Oh god, AH! Please, oh Jesus…”

Ethan started to pump it in and out of him, pushing in deep and hard, forcing Janus further into his chest. “Mmmore, ah, god! More! Oh fuck…”

He kept forcing the dildo in and out, Janus’ hole clenching to keep it in for longer.

“I need… ah! I need, please, please I need to cum, ahhhh… I’m so des- desperate-“

“Are you getting close, love? Be a good boy and let go for me. Be a good boy for Ethan.”

“AHHH! Yesss, yesssss Ethan I’ll be a good bOY- so close, so close, please…” He begged, begging his body, begging Ethan, he didn’t know at this point, he just needed some relief.

Ethan watched, starstruck, as Janus jerked his hips, face flushed, sweat dripping from his nose, precum dripping down his cock.

With a loud moan and a powerful jerk of his hips, Janus came. His eyes rolled back as he grunted, toes curling and cum splattering up on his chest. It kept rolling through him in waves, each one more powerful than the last, his hips quaking, feeling so blissed from pleasure, it took Ethan’s gentle petting motions to bring him back down to earth.

“There we go, baby. Are you satisfied now?” He said with a smile, laying Janus down on his bed. He summoned a cloth and wiped off his stomach.

“Yeah… that was… better than expected.” Janus was practically panting like he had run a full marathon.

He collapsed into his mattress, legs going boneless, feeling so heavy he thought he could sleep for a thousand years.

A soft, large hand went and gently scratched at his scales. He whined in satisfaction and leaned up into the touch.

Ethan’s mouth quirked into a smile. This was just like running his fingers through Virgil’s hair after a good orgasm.

“Nice little scale scritches… such a quiet little thing when you’re not desperate or sarcastic.” He hummed, his other hand going to keep his rock hard cock interested. He could jack off in his room later.

“‘M sorry for disliking you… I thought I couldn’t trust you…”

“It’s okay. Just rest. I’ll leave you alone tonight. We can talk more about what you like and things tomorrow.”

“M’kay. Can you turn on heat lamp?”

Ethan giggled, turning on the rosy-coloured heat lamp and pressing a kiss to Janus’ forehead.

It occurred to him that he didn’t kiss Janus the entire time.

Whatever. Trust will come.

——————

Oh my god I actually wrote something. And I’m showing strangers. @felixs-thirst-blog this is for you. -🐬

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jewishzevran · 5 years

Text

this is how galaxies collide || alistair x warden (aeducan)

Alistair has grown up without touch. Touch is bad, touch is sinful, touch only leads to corruption. Then, at Ostagar, Duncan returns from Orzammar with a new recruit; a dwarf covered in darkspawn blood with silver hair and a silver tongue to match. As they travel Ferelden together, he finds himself re-evaluating everything he knows about bodily contact. [ao3]

a/n: cw for canon-typical violence and injuries.

chapter one - join us in the shadows

Wind howls round the cold, empty halls of the chantry; a haunting, melancholy rendition of the hymns sung that morning. Outside the rattling window, the storm rages. A crack of lightning throws the room into sharp relief, and Alistair curls up a little tighter under his blanket, fists clenched with fear. There are no warm bodies to keep him safe here, no mabari paws to cling to. No gentle whines or rough tongues licking his cheek as he cries. His chest aches with loneliness.

A rap on the door interrupts his thoughts and he sits bolt upright, wiping the tears from his face with the heel of his hand.

“Up, child. Your presence is required.”

Alistair pulls on a robe over his nightclothes and scurries to the door. One does not refuse the voice of the revered Mother.

Even if it is past bedtime, he thinks.

She barely gives him a second glance before walking off down the corridor. Alistair follows.

A crack of thunder sounds almost directly overhead, loud enough to make Alistair’s ears ring. He jumps, grabbing for the closest source of comfort he can: the revered mother’s hand.

Before the thunder roll has even petered out, she snatches her hand away from him and turns her eyes on him, full of cold disapproval. He cowers under her glare.

“You do not touch a woman,” she spits.

Before Alistair can even open his mouth to reply, she marches off. He bows his head and follows, fresh tears forming in his eyes while shame burns his cheeks.

Touch is sinful. He must face his fear of the storm alone.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Alistair huffed as he stalked across camp to complete his task. Of all the people to play messenger boy to the mages, why did the revered mother pick the ex-templar?

That’s precisely why she picked you, he thought to himself. It’s an insult and you know it.

He was going to refuse, but Duncan had been hovering nearby, watching, and Alistair knew if he had, Duncan would have stepped in and made him take it anyway.

Typical of his mentor, always pushing him to be the better person.

He wanted to just conveniently ‘not find the mage’, apologise profusely to the revered mother and get on with his day. But he’d never been a good liar and Duncan’s disappointed sigh was more than he could cope with, so he slumped off in the direction of the old temple, kicking at loose stones and muttering under his breath. If his armor had pockets, his hands would definitely be inside them.

It didn’t take long for him to find the mage in question; he was stood alone in the centre of the plinth, running through simple combat sequences, moves flowing one into the other as though he was meditating instead of letting off powerful blasts of fire at the crumbling pillar in front of him. He turned, saw Alistair, and sighed heavily, not bothering to hide his disdain. Whether it was at being interrupted or at Alistair specifically, he couldn’t say.

“What is it now? Haven’t the grey wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?”

Alistair bit his tongue. Remember to be civil. Don’t start a fight. Don’t antagonise him. He chose his words very carefully and spoke each one as neutrally as possible.

“I simply came to deliver a message from the revered mother, ser mage. She desires your presence.”

The mage scoffed. “What her reverence desires is of no concern to me. I am busy helping the grey wardens – on the King’s orders, I might add!”

Alistair fought the urge to roll his eyes, and just about succeeded. “Should I have asked her to write a note?”

He could feel the mage practically explode with impudent fury. “Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!”

I’m not a fucking messenger pigeon, he thought. Sometimes mages can be so fucking stubborn. “Yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message.”

“Your glibness does you no credit, man,” the mage spit back.

To hell with civility.

“Aww, and here I thought we were getting along so well!” Alistair said, each word dripping with sarcasm. “I was even going to name one of my children after you – the grumpy one.”

The mage looked as though he was about to hit him, and Alistair almost wished he would.

“Enough! I will speak to the woman if I must.”

It was not lost on Alistair that he just succeeded in annoying the mage into deciding that between him and the revered mother, she was the lesser of two evils, which was pretty impressive going in the time allowed, even for him. He suppressed a victorious grin.

“Out of my way, fool.”

The mage stalked off, almost bumping into someone on his way, and that’s when Alistair saw her: barefoot, muddy and spattered with darkspawn blood. White hair, dark skin and dark, determined eyes, that looked like they’d seen a lot more of the uglier side of the world than they should have.

Beautiful, said the loud, very unhelpful voice in the back of his head. He ignored it.

“You know,” his mouth said before his brain could stop it. “one good thing about the blight is how it really brings people together.”

Yes, that’s it, Alistair. Take one look at this woman with fire in her eyes who seems like she hasn’t slept in about four days, who is absolutely covered in blood and decide she’s the perfect person to tell a sarcastic joke to. Really stellar work there.

He winced internally, waiting for another outburst like the rapidly disappearing mage, but instead, the stranger just raised a single eyebrow and smiled wryly.

“You are a very strange human.”

Oh. Well then.

“Yes, I get that a lot.” He paused, doubting himself for a moment. “Wait, we haven't met, have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?”

She frowned, then gestured to herself. “I’m… a dwarf? How could I be a mage?”

Maker, Alistair, you are absolutely killing it today.

What he wanted to do was apologise for being such an idiot. Instead, mouth bypassing his brain again, he shrugged and said “I don’t know. Sometimes they creep up on you.”

“Like your imagination, it seems,” she replied, dryly and without hesitation. There was a pause of a couple of seconds, where they stared at each other, both completely deadpan, and then, at the same time, they burst out laughing.

“My name is Janna—” said the dwarf, still smiling as she extended a hand for Alistair to shake. He noted the hesitation at the end of her sentence, as though she was about to give a surname but held back at the last moment. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Family is probably a painful subject, then. He thought. Avoid jokes where possible. Maybe we can bond over our tragic backstories in the future.

“I’m Alistair. Newest grey warden.”

“Oh good, you are who I was looking for.”

Duncan must have sent her.

He nodded. “As the junior member of the order, I’ll be helping you prepare for your joining.”

“Prepare?” She frowned, a tiny furrow appearing between her eyes.

“Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to say much.” He gestured back towards camp, and she fell easily into step by his side. “Sworn to secrecy and all. Duncan will explain to you and the others soon.” He paused. “Have you met the other recruits?”

Janna wrinkled her nose a little. “I’ve met Daveth.” The word unfortunately hung unspoken in the air.

“Yes,” Alistair replied apologetically. “The other is Ser Jory, a knight from Redcliffe.”

Janna nodded. Alistair was a little surprised by how easily he fell into conversation with her.

“So, that mage?”

“Mmmm?”

“Why was he so… uncooperative?”

Alistair barked out a laugh. “How much do you know about mage regulation?”

“Only a little,” Janna admitted. “I read what I could in Orzammar, but being a dwarf, it tends not to be a sought-after topic of study. All I know is that the Chantry controls the Templars and the Templars watch the mages.”

Alistair nodded. “Well, that’s enough to explain this particular situation. I used to be a templar.”

Janna frowned. “You were permitted to leave the order? Even from my limited knowledge, that’s surprising.”

Alistair laughed again. “Yes, well. I was still in training and Duncan had to invoke the right of conscription to get the Revered Mother to let me go. I’ll never forget the look on her face. I thought she was going to have us both arrested.”

Why am I telling her all this?

She laughed. “That I would have liked to see.”

“So, the mage was upset, because the revered mother sent me with the message as an insult. He was smart enough to pick up on that, and well, you saw the rest. I would have refused to take it in the first place but–”

“–Duncan.” Janna finished.

“Yes. Apparently, we should all be doing our best to get along and be civil, but no one else seems to have received that particular lecture.” He sat down on an unoccupied bench, under the shade of a large oak, only partly pretending to sulk.

Janna laughed again, joining him. “Sounds just like Orzammar. Though we tend to settle our grievances with one-on-one combat, and I can’t imagine that would go down as well up here.”

Alistair chuckled. “Definitely not, but I can think of several people who would jump at the chance. Including that mage. I’m going to have to watch my back in case he ‘accidentally’ trips and sets me on fire.”

Janna threw her head back in another laugh, and the swaying branches above her caught her eye. She smiled softly, reaching up to tug a leaf free and hold it, studying it in minute detail.

“I didn’t realise quite how beautiful the colour green is.” She said quietly. “The surface is full of surprises.”

A shadow of sadness flitted across her face, and Alistair wondered just how voluntary her departure from Orzammar had been. He flailed mentally for a way to distract her.

“Oh, Maker, you should see the southern coast in summer,” he started. “You wouldn’t believe the colours. Greens of the trees, bright oranges and reds of the fruit in the market. For a blissful month or two, the sea is a gorgeous teal, rather than, y’know. Dull Ferelden grey.”

“I’ve never seen the ocean.”

“Well, when we’ve dealt with the blight, I’ll bat my incredibly charming eyelashes at Duncan, and persuade him to let us all take a trip. We may even convince him to take his armor off.”

For a while, they simply sat and talked, laughing about some of Alistair’s wilder seaside adventures; he was grateful for the diversion – the mood had been so grim and serious recently, and it was a welcome relief to talk about anything that wasn’t darkspawn fighting tactics or the upcoming battle.

A comfortable silence fell between them for a moment, broken only by the background chatter of the camp, and the barks of the mabari from the kennels.

“What are mabari like?” Janna asked, evidently prompted by the noise.

“You mean you’ve never–”

Janna gestured to herself again. “We don’t have much use for them, you know, underground.”

Alistair flushed. “Right. Yes.” There was a pause, and then, “do you want to go and meet them? I’m sure the Kennel Master would oblige you.”

Janna grinned. “I’d like that.”

“Well it takes us in the right direction, since we’re obliged to go and meet Duncan anyway.”

She almost fell over herself in her excitement, and Alistair bit back another laugh. He’s laughed more times in the past half an hour than in the last six months combined. He followed her to the Kennel Master but pulled up short when he saw the look on the man’s face. He heard a little of the conversation, and pity filled him. He hated what fighting the darkspawn did to the mabari.

His train of thought was cut short when he saw Janna slip inside the gate. Curious, he crossed to the fence and observed.

“Hey there,” she murmured, gently crouching next to the injured creature. He growled warily. “My name is Janna. You probably haven’t seen many dwarves before, have you? I’m here to help you. Will you let me do that?” She paused, giving the dog a moment. When he didn't react, she continued, offering her hand gingerly for him to consider. “I just have to put this muzzle on, so your master over there can make you feel better. Is that okay?”

The mabari whined a little, and sniffed Janna’s outstretched hand, then licked her fingers and rolled onto his side.

“Maker’s breath,” whispered the Kennel Master, talking to himself as much as Alistair. “That poor dog’s been snapping at anyone that so much as looks at him for the past three days.”

“Some people just have a way, I suppose,” replied Alistair, just as stunned.

Janna clambered out the enclosure, looking back miserably at the freshly muzzled mabari. “I hope you can ease his pain a little.”

“Thanks to you, I should have no trouble. But, if you head into the wilds, look for this.” He showed her a rough sketch, and Alistair recognised it as a Wilds flower. “I can make it into a salve that draws out the poison.”

“Got it. I’ll bring back as many as I can carry.”

“Thank you kindly, lass. You’re a good soul.”

“Alistair! Janna!”

Duncan called to them from across the fire, and waved them both over. Jory and Daveth were with him, and Alistair held back a groan. Time to head out into the Wilds.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Alistair grimaced as he wiped darkspawn blood off his blade and sheathed it, along with his shield.

Maker, they don’t get any less disgusting.

Janna made quick work of collecting the blood, storing it in the pouch at her waist with practiced ease. She seemed totally unfazed by the massacre, her indifference made all the more apparent by just how shaken Daveth and Jory seemed to be.

Alistair consulted the map, getting their next heading and directing as appropriate, but within two minutes, Janna darted off the path and crouched next to a rotting log.

“What in Andraste’s name is she doing?” Daveth said, rolling his eyes. “It’s like she wants to be ambushed.”

She returned almost as quickly as she left and held out her hand for Alistair.

“This is the flower the kennel master wanted, right?”

Alistair blinked. He had all but forgotten, but yes, in her hand was a small clump of Wilds flowers, red centres bright against the pure white petals.

“That’s the ones.”

She smiled and stowed them away, before falling into step beside him. Her alertness did not escape his notice; one hand always on the hilt of her sword, whilst her eyes scanned the wilderness with expert perception. It took him a second to realise she was still barefoot, and only just stopped himself wrinkling his nose.

What possesses someone to hunt darkspawn without boots?

“By the stone,” she breathed, faltering beside him, and Alistair followed her gaze to where three soldiers were strung up like cured meat from a tree bridge. Every face was contorted with fear, and his gut wrenched uncomfortably.

Poor bastards. They didn’t deserve that.

“Look there!” Jory called. “There’s movement on the path!”

Janna was gone in a blur, and she had already crouched at the source of the disturbance by the time Alistair realised that it was a wounded soldier.

He sprinted after her, in time to catch the end of the man’s sentence.

“… out of the ground. There were too many. Everyone is dead.”

“You’re safe now, it’s alright. We can get you back to camp. What’s your name, soldier?”

“A-a-aaron,” He stuttered, making any coherent noise clearly an intense effort.

“My name is Janna, I’m a Grey Warden. I’m here to help you.” She was knelt beside the man, cradling his head in her lap. She’d removed his helmet and started stroking his hair, gently wiping the sweat from his pain-creased brow. She looked up at Alistair.

“Do you have any poultices? Any bandages?” Her voice was deathly calm, and her eyes flicked down to his abdomen. He took the hint and chanced a look, and then instantly wished he hadn’t. The soldier’s – Aaron’s – blood-soaked hands were cradling his stomach, and Alistair could see the glistening of his intestines underneath his shredded tunic. Beside him, Daveth gagged.

“Never mind bandages, you’re going to need a fucking funeral pyre.”

Jory glared down at him, and Daveth cowed uncharacteristically under his gaze, mumbling out an apology.

“I have both in my pack,” Alistair said, ignoring them both, delving into the bag and pulling them out. Janna wasn't even looking at him as she held her hand out for the items; her eyes were on Aaron’s face, keeping him distracted and stopping him panicking.

“When I give him the signal, Alistair here is going to put a poultice on your wound and then bandage you up, ok? I’ve got some draught here as well, which should help with the pain. It’s going to hurt to start with, but I need you to just hold on, alright?”

The soldier grimaced and nodded, breathing shakily.

Janna turned to Alistair. “Ready?”

He wasn’t, but he nodded anyway. “Ready.”

She lifted Aaron’s hands and gripped them tightly. “Deep breath in, Aaron,”

As he took in a shaky gasp of air, Alistair pushed the poultice deep into the wound. Aaron went grey and half screamed, half sobbed in agony. His knuckles were white under the blood, clutching Janna’s hands with a death grip. Alistair worked quickly, wrapping bandages around his torso and tying them off neatly.

Janna soothed him all the while, and once Alistair was finished, she propped him up gently and helped him take a swig of the healing draught. When he finished, he took a deep breath and slumped back into Janna’s arms. Fresh sweat was beading on his forehead, but his pallor was far healthier than it had been five minutes ago.

“I’m going to help him back to camp,” Janna said, the tone of her voice brooking no room for argument. “He’s stable for now, but if he encounters any more darkspawn, he’s done for.”

“Andraste’s tits,” Daveth muttered. “As if we didn’t have enough to be worried about. Should have just put the poor guy out of his misery.”

“We’ll come with you,” Alistair said, a little too loudly, deliberately speaking over Daveth and shooting him a warning look.

Janna smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

It took them about an hour to carry Aaron back to the gate. Janna propped him up the whole time, offering him generous swigs of healing draught and keeping his mind off the pain by chatting with him continuously. She asked him about his home, his family, his sweetheart. With each response, Alistair could see the fear dissipate from his shoulders.

The guards on duty looked stunned when they opened the gates.

“Maker’s breath–Aaron? Aaron, what happened?”

“Squad got jumped.” He replied, grimly. “I would have been off to the Maker with them, if it hadn’t been for the Wardens.”

“Thank you,” said one of the guards, his voice thick with gratitude.

Janna nodded in recognition. “We’d best be getting back to our own mission now. I will come to see you later, Aaron.”

“Andraste watch over you, Janna.” Aaron said, wincing as he leaned against one of the guards.

Janna turned back to the rolling hills of the wilds. “Thank you,” she said to the group, as the gates to camp closed behind them again. “I understand your reluctance to assist him, but I appreciate your help regardless.”

Daveth opened his mouth to retort something, but Jory punched his arm before he could get it out.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “It’s nice to see kindness isn’t completely abandoned in this desolate place.”

Janna turned back to them, and Alistair watched as an emotion he couldn’t quite place crossed her face, and then she smiled.

“Onwards, then?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Alistair paced back and forth near the fire. The meeting seemed to be taking an age. He’d tried to lie in his tent and settle down for the night, but his heart was too heavy to sleep.

Two more were dead. Jory’s last words echoed through his ears.

There is no glory in this.

“The Light shall lead her safely, Through the paths of this world, and into the next,”

The words came almost subconsciously. Alistair knelt down by the fire and clasped his hands together, closing his eyes. He wasn’t one to pray much, not anymore, but he somehow always found himself reciting Transfigurations when there was cause for mourning.

“For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water. As the moth sees light and goes toward flame, She should see fire and go towards Light. The Veil holds no uncertainty for her, And she will know no fear of death, for the Maker Shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword.”

Alistair finished the verse, its familiar lines settling over him like a blanket, comforting him, even if only for a moment. He stood, wiping away stray tears, and kicked a smouldering twig. He doubted he would ever get used to watching a joining. He wondered what they would tell Jory’s wife – widow.

He could only be grateful that Janna made it through. He would never, could never, celebrate the deaths of the others, but if there had to be only one survivor, he was glad it was her.

The moment they had got back from the Wilds, she had made a beeline for the Kennel Master and deposited a veritable mountain of flowers at his stunned feet; she had picked every single one she could find on their journey, and by the time they returned her pack was almost overflowing. After that, she marched to the infirmary to check on Aaron. The nurses and healers practically fell over themselves to thank her for her quick action. Alistair had watched her from a distance; once she had had a long talk with Aaron and left him to rest, she went round every other patient and helped the medical staff prepare ointments and poultices with the competence of someone who was definitely not new to the experience.

She is certainly a puzzle; he thought to himself. He had watched her cut down darkspawn with terrifying efficiency, and then find the body of a fallen soldier, recover his last will and testament, and insist on seeking out the hidden cache mentioned so that she could hopefully return it to his widow. Jory had been right. She was kind to her core, and that was very rare. War usually stripped kindness out of people before anything else. Janna seemed to be determined to hang onto hers until her last breath, probably to her own detriment.

And she did all of that with no fucking shoes on.

“Alistair!”

Her voice broke his train of thought, and he looked up to see her walking towards him, the rest of the attendees of the meeting going their separate ways behind her. He found himself smiling at her sudden appearance.

“All finished?”

Janna rolled her eyes. “Mercifully, yes. No thanks to Loghain or Cailan. We could have cut that time in half if they would stop clashing over literally everything. Now, I think I would like to settle down and have something to eat and then I am going to sleep for as long as possible. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day.”

“That can be arranged.” Alistair smiled.

They walked together to the food tent in comfortable silence. Once Janna had wolfed down two and half helpings of stew and a good-sized mug of ale, she looked up at him softly.

“Thank you,” she said. “For earlier. With Aaron. You didn’t have to help, but you did.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Alistair replied, truthfully. “I’m just glad we could do something before it was too late.”

Janna reached out and took his hand, squeezing it appreciatively. “Still. I am grateful nonetheless. I will sleep a little easier tonight knowing we helped save his life. Especially after…” She tailed off, but Alistair knew she was referring to the joining.

As silence fell over the two of them, he bit his lip, and then seized his opportunity to both change the subject and answer his burning question.

“Look, I’m really sorry. But I can’t not ask. It’s been bothering me all day. And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he finished hurriedly, as Janna tensed up, probably preparing herself for something tasteless at best and racist at worst. “But… why on earth aren’t you wearing boots?”

Janna blinked at him, like it was taking time to actually process what he said. Then she looked under the bench, looked back up, repeated the action, and then groaned loudly and dropped her head into her arms.

“Sweet Ancestors, I cannot believe -”

“Fuck,” Alistair said, feeling laughter bubbling up from deep in his stomach. “You didn’t realise, did you?”

Janna shook her head, still face down. He could see the tips of her ears flushing deep red and desperately tried to stop the laughter from escaping, but it was no good; when Janna lifted her head with the look of someone who has never been more disappointed in themselves, he lost it.

“How in Andraste’s name can someone forget they’re not wearing shoes?”

“I am beyond humiliated.”

“I mean, I admit that makes me feel a little better,” said Alistair, shoulders still shaking with laughter. “At least I know you weren’t deliberately wading around barefoot in darkspawn blood.”

“When I… left Orzammar,” Janna said carefully, and the particular way she chose her words was not lost on Alistair, “my boots were damaged, and Duncan didn’t have any to hand that would fit a dwarf. When I got to Ostagar, everything happened so quickly, and I never had time to ask the quartermaster for a pair. Please don’t tell anyone. I have to maintain some level of reputation. If I strike fear into people’s hearts because they think it was on purpose, then so be it.”

“Well, your secret is safe with me, now that you’ve put my mind at rest,” replied Alistair, raising an eyebrow but otherwise leaving the explanation well alone for now. “Thank you. I can rest easy knowing our newest initiate is not a total barbarian.”

Janna chuckled into her ale, eyeing him impishly. “You never know. I might just creep up on you.”

#dragon age #dragon age: origins #alistair x warden #alistair x aeducan #alistair theirin #warden aeducan #dwarf warden

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shark-from-the-park · 5 years

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FIC: The Fitzier of It, Episode Four

A Fitzier The Thick of It AU in several parts. You can find Episode One here , Episode Two here and Episode Three here. With sincere thanks to @casperthefriendlylittlefan and @coffeesugarcream for their cheerleading and encouragement and to everyone else who has read and enjoyed so far. I love you all, your comments/tags/asks/PM’s make my heart swell.

In this installment, James really does go for broke in his attempts to get hired as Francis’s spin doctor. This certainly won’t awaken anything in him... will it?

Warnings for very bad language, NSFW themes, endlessly snacking LeVesconte and a wild Blanky.

@litttlesilkworm @boisinberryjamarama @thegreenmeridian @cinemaocd @the-jewish-marxist @hereliesnils @nashilena @itisa-profoundbond-sarandom @idlesuperstar @what-a-terrorific-mess @kahootqueen69 @jaredharrisankles @shit-in-silk-stocking @bobbole @fellowshipofthegay @aconfusedwriter @uncannybrightside @glorioustidalwavedefendor @zaphodbeeblebro @sasheenka @intrepid-inkweaver @full-of-terrors @anadequatesir

Contact me via semiphore (or some more convenient method) to be tagged/untagged, or just to say hello/hurl abuse. xXx.

Episode Four

When James strode into Baffin House the next day, his confidence was based on more than just his usual bluster and self-assurance.

He struck it lucky as soon as he reached the second floor.

Ed Little and Thomas Jopson were sat at a desk together near the elevators, heads bent, chatting and laughing. The sideburn brothers didn’t even notice James as he passed them.

That just left Blanky.

Who was, of course, perched on the desk outside Francis’s office door like a guard dog, exchanging friendly banter with two women a few desks over (the term ‘duck’ was being thrown about with bewildering regularity).

James steeled himself and approached the Yorkshireman with his palms up in a gesture of peace.

He also kept his mouth firmly shut.

Blanky regarded him with crinkly, laughing eyes, almost fondly.

“Go on then, Fitzjames, lad. Yer’ve caught me in a good mood.”

James reached into his leather satchel, and with the bare minimum of theatricality (that he was physically capable of), brought out his gifts. One by one he placed them on the desk next to Blanky.

First came a box of colourful Paperchase paper-clips in the shapes of whales and anchors.

Second, and this one was an educated guess really, a grab bag of steak flavoured McCoy’s.

Thirdly, a folded slip of notepaper with the words ‘Shadow Cabinet’ written on it in James’s neat handwriting.

Blanky regarded each gift thoughtfully, picking up and unfolding the slip of paper, reading the contents, then meeting James’s eye.

Blanky refolded the notepaper and handed it back, the beginnings of a grin on his face.

He rapped on Francis’s office door three times, then held it open.

“Go on then, lad. Yer’ve earned it.”

With a tiny sigh of relief, James darted through the door before Blanky could change his mind.

Francis, elbow deep in some report or other, looked up at James from behind his desk in surprise.

“Thomas Blanky you useless, traitorous gimp, I should have you flogged!” He bellowed after a moment of silence.

“He brought me crisps, Frank. And fancy paper-clips. I’m not made of stone.” Blanky closed the office door behind James, effectively trapping him and Francis inside together.

“Class traitor!” Francis yelled at Blanky before sneering at James across the expanse of his desk and saying; “To what do I owe this pleasure, James?” acidly.

Realising that he had placed both hands up in a peace gesture again, James swiftly dropped them to his sides, feeling like a twat.

“I just wanted to talk, Francis. I, uh, I brought you this.” He laid the folded piece of notepaper on Francis’s desk and then took a step back.

Francis unfolded the paper, read it, peered up at James to give him a quick glare, then read it again.

“Do you honestly think I don��t already know who I want working with me? You arrogant, snot-nosed little public school wanker...” He managed to grind out at last.

James breathed out slowly through his nose.

Humility. Humility.

“The thing is, Francis, it’s not just the list. I, uh, talked to them. All of them. I mean, I vetted them all first, of course. Official and unofficial channels. Did some research into their stances on your key issues. And they’ve all, er, agreed. To back you. To serve on your shadow cabinet and toe the line on your fundamentals. All would be willing to meet with you about it. All committed. I mean, I made it clear that it was all speculative, of course. I made it clear that I was doing it off my own back. And then I found out that you’d already spoken to some of them… It’s just… I’d really like to work with you, Francis. For you.” James stopped, feeling light-headed.

Francis’s mouth kept opening and shutting silently. His face had gone the colour of cooked lobster.

James chewed on the inside of his bottom lip and waited.

Eventually, Francis managed;

“Fucking hell James. Why? Why the fuck… I’m no Sir John. I’m not in this for a fucking seat in the House of Lords. You won’t get me to schmooze with any of the great and good. There’ll be no champagne dinners. No golf. No parties with Richard fucking Branson. Have you lost your mind, James? I’m a backwards, Stalinist potato-fucker with bad dress sense, remember?”

“I’ve never said potato-fucker, Francis. About anyone.”

“I just don’t know what your game is here, James.”

“There is no game. I want to work for you. I think I can help you win.”

“You, Mister privately educated, Oxbridge, gap-year-in-South-East-Asia, Paul Smith ties and expensive haircuts, want to work for this ex-alcoholic, Bangor University graduate, backbench, cardigan-wearing Irish...”

“Look!” James interjected desperately. “Francis... Somewhere along the line, I think you might have gotten the idea that I don’t respect you...”

“Whatever could possibly have given me that impression, James.” Francis said, steely-eyed.

“But the thing is, you see, that actually, I -” James’ larynx tried to seize up over the words and he was forced to clear his throat loudly, feeling colour rise to his face. “I admire you.” He managed at last in a rushed voice that didn’t sound at all like his own.

Somehow, he felt as if he’d just said something else.

Utterly exposed.

Francis looked completely astonished. It didn’t suit him.

They stared at each other from opposite sides of the room, evidently having run off some sort of conversational cliff.

James chafed under Francis’s intense blue gaze, but having said his piece he found himself unwilling to back down or look away.

Seconds ticked by, lengthening into minutes and they just breathed in and out and looked at one another.

The office door opened and Blanky stuck his head in.

“I’m not sorry for interrupting.” He said. “Yers have been quiet for so long I thought one of you must have killed the other. Now I see it’s just some sort of homoerotic staring contest. My mistake.” He retreated and shut the door on them again.

“Alright.” Francis finally ground out from between clenched teeth. “I’ll consider it.”

James, whose brain had snagged on the words ‘homoerotic staring contest’, blinked at him in confusion.

“You’ll...”

“I’ll consider bringing you and Le Vesconte on board. I’ll meet with the names on your bloody list.”

“Oh. Well. Good. Good.” James felt as though he were having an out of body experience.

“Just… liaise with Blanky. Set up the meetings.”

“Alright Francis. And… Thank you...”

James exited Francis’s office as quickly as was humanly possible, only to find Blanky, Ed Little, Jopson and half a dozen others crowded around the door, peering at him with rapt curiosity.

*****

“Fucking hell, Fitz. It sounds about as nerve-wracking as asking him to a school disco.”

“No, it was worse than that.” Muttered James, strangely subdued. “It was like one of those dreams where you… No, it was like… Like I accidentally took off my face and showed him the horrific writhing mass of gore that is the real me, for a second...”

“Fuck. That’s deep, Fitz. I’ve known you going on thirty years and I don’t think I’ve ever seen the real you.” Dundy managed around a mouthful of treacle scone.

“Exactly, Dundy. It wasn’t like I meant to do it.” James rubbed a hand over the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“It worked though, didn’t it? We’ve actually got a shot at being in government!”

“Mmmm? Yeah.”

Dundy looked both worried and worryingly thoughtful for a moment.

“James?” He spoke gently, as though trying not to spook a horse. “You do realise that you’re in-”

“Shut up.” James snapped back into gear all at once. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

*****

Episode Five here...

#fitzier #the fitzier of it #jimmy fitz is in love #fuckity hi #francis crozier/james fitzjames

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