#thinking about orchard for one reason or another being protective of his (new) loved ones involuntarily and

[kakusboyfriend]

Sits you down. Ok so orchard and citrus are also mirrors in the sense that they both have a hidden violent side fueled by intense anger. But Citrus' is the result of a violent life simmering down until there's barely any trace left of it save for some specific situations, and Orchard's is the result of a man whose kindness was and still is what he's most known for but his life was shifted so rapidly it's no wonder he's become volatile as a result.

Do you get it. Im fucking crazy about them. I never drew orchard digitally and it makes me INSANE

[fific7]

Unexpected - Part 1

King Caspian x Reader

Summary: What happens if you push the respectful and well-behaved King Caspian a little too far? You’re about to find out.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with some lemon zest 🍋 Friends to Lovers AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including debatable consent at first, loss of virginity and oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My video edit)

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You and every unwed woman in Narnia knew that the handsome King Caspian was being pressured by his advisors to find a Queen for himself.

Most knew that to become Queen of Narnia would be unattainable for them - no doubt that would be some Princess from another country - and you had no illusions about your own chances. Your father was one of the lords at court and owned a large amount of land near Cair Paravel, but you were not a Royal so you were sure you’d never be considered.

You and Caspian had been friendly when you were younger but you doubted he’d remember you, so much had happened between then and now.

You’d been restless at home recently, mainly because your parents had started speaking of finding you a husband. Appalled, you’d pestered, pleaded with and finally persuaded your father to arrange for you to see Professor Cornelius as you wanted something with which to fill your days instead of playing the piano, embroidery and reading.

Cornelius had suggested you come to work with him as his research assistant, and you’d leapt at the chance. It also meant that you would live at Cair Paravel, away from the slightly smothering atmosphere at home. Your mother had not spoken to you for a week before you left (or your father, whom she blamed for setting up the interview in the first place). But she’d reluctantly accepted that you were flying the nest, however you’d had to endure an extremely long lecture about how you should behave while living away from home.

It seemed that you would be able to eat, drink, speak and bathe and not much else.

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King Caspian made his way to Cornelius’ study, knocking once before entering. The older man looked up at him, smiling and greeting him. Caspian threw himself into the chair in front of the desk, having lifted three books from it first.

“You are in need of some time away from your advisors, Caspian?”

The King nodded, running his hands over his face. “They just go on and on and on about how I need a wife and an heir. I am sure I will find a wife one day but I have other things I wish to concentrate on at the moment.” “Your next voyage?” Caspian nodded, “Yes. There is still much to do. The construction of the Dawn Treader is well under way, but I have an itinerary to decide upon and courses to plot.”

“I have a new research assistant starting tomorrow, I am sure she will be able to help you with that. She is well read and knowledgeable of the many other lands you may wish to visit.” Caspian looked up quickly at him, “She?” “Yes, she is my Lord Tirian’s daughter.” Caspian smiled, “I remember her. We played silly games together when we were young, whenever her father brought her to the castle. It will be so nice to see her again.”

Cornelius, hiding a smile, replied, “Oh, I think you will be very pleased to see her again, my King.”

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Feeling nervous for some reason, you tapped on Cornelius’ door and heard “Come in” in response. Stepping into the room, you were amazed at the numbers of books, manuscripts and charts which occupied the small room. You could hardly see the diminutive Cornelius in amongst it all, and he saw you taking in the piles stacked everywhere.

He chuckled, “Yes, there are too many, my dear. I’m hoping you can help me catalogue and store them as I confess the situation is getting out of control.” You bowed your head to him, “I’ll be happy to assist, Professor Cornelius.” “I’m so glad to hear that. On another note, the King is looking forward to meeting you again. I’d quite forgotten until I spoke to him about you that you were childhood friends.” You smiled, “Well, I’m not sure the King would have actually called me his friend as such, but we did spend happy hours playing hide and seek and pretending to fight dragons.”

Cornelius nodded, “He remembers those times fondly, my lady. He was not allowed to play with many other children, and I’m certain he considered you a friend of his. Come, let us go and reintroduce you to each other.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian looked up from the document he was reading at his desk. There had been a sharp knock at the door of his chambers and then it had opened, Cornelius striding into the room with another person following him. He was transfixed as he looked upon the grown-up face of his childhood playmate. He stood and walked around the desk towards the two of them, whispering her name as she curtsied in front of him.

He was still staring at her. Cornelius cleared his throat seeing that the young King was lost for words, but Caspian ignored him as he heard her soft voice, “It is so nice to see you again, your Majesty.” “Caspian,” he said immediately, “we never called each other anything except our first names, did we?” She was smiling up at him, and he was still a little overwhelmed. This was the skinny little girl he’d run about with all those years ago? Now, she was a woman - a beautiful woman. “No, Caspian, we didn’t.”

Cornelius interjected, “I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted, so I’m going back to my study. Your Majesty, my lady.” He gave a small bow and left the room.

Caspian indicated the large couch by the window and she made her way to it, gathering her dress underneath her as she sat down. He sat at the other end, and without thinking he reached out and took her hand. She smiled, wrapping her fingers around his hand as they’d done so many years ago, while running headlong through the orchards next to the castle.

“I’m so very sorry about your father, Caspian. He was always so kind to me. You must miss him dreadfully.” Caspian looked down quickly and she heard him say quietly, “Thank you. Yes, I miss him every minute of every day.” He met her eyes once more, “But we were able to right the wrongs done to him and Narnia, for which I am very grateful.” She smiled at him again, “And here you are, a King! My childhood friend. I really didn’t think you’d remember me.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-———���-««

Caspian’s dark brown eyes gazed into yours and he held your hand even tighter. “Of course I remember you! Do you think I’d forget my only friend?! Your visits and the little time we spent together made my life bearable.”

You were shocked, and felt so sad for him. “Oh, Caspian! I can’t have been your only friend, surely?” His eyes filled with tears and he looked down again, “Believe me, you were. I was so lucky that we’d met before my father died, so it would have looked strange if my uncle had banned us from meeting. He kept me totally isolated most of the time. I think he did that so people maybe wouldn’t notice when it was time to kill me.”

Cornelius hadn’t told you it had been this bad for him! Your own eyes were watering now as you thought about the hardships he’d had to face at such a young age. Without giving it much thought, you flung your arms round him and hugged him tightly. His head came to rest on your shoulder and your hand went to the back of his head, stroking his silky hair. His shoulders shook slightly and you knew he was crying, so you just held him until he was ready to sit back from you. He stood up abruptly and turned to look out of the window, a hand swiftly wiping his cheeks dry.

He gave a choked laugh, “I’m so sorry, this was supposed to be a happy reunion and we are both crying,” looking down at you as you also wiped tears away. “I’m sorry, Caspian. I mentioned your father and perhaps I shouldn’t have?” He shook his head, “No, I’m glad that you did. And at least we have now spoken of his passing and can remember and talk about happier times.” You smiled at him, “Yes, I shall enjoy that. Although maybe I should speak firstly about how worried I was on the occasion we came to visit, and you were not there. I asked as many guards and lords as I could where you were, but I was told to stop being a nosy child. My father would say nothing to me either, despite my tantrums!”

Caspian burst out laughing, “Oh I remember your tantrums so well! I’m impressed he didn’t give in to you in the face of one of those!” You slapped him lightly on the arm, also laughing, “Caspian! You’re supposed to be my friend!” He became serious again, “I most certainly am. I’m overjoyed to have you back in my life. So much has happened in the past few years, and there has been so much to do, but rest assured I would have tracked you down eventually.” His hand went to your face, stroking your cheek gently and you felt your breath catch. He looked so handsome. Very much a man now, rather than the adolescent boy you’d once known.

His head moved much closer to yours, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you.

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Caspian suddenly realised what he was about to do, and pulled back sharply. He should not kiss her.

They’d only just met again, but he knew that all his feelings for her were still there. He’d just pushed them down, deep deep down, so that he could carry out what he’d needed to do for Narnia and for his father’s memory.

He’d been in love with her when he was a boy, and now that he was a man - he knew that he still loved her. He’d nearly passed out when he’d seen her again today after being apart from her for so long. All those suppressed feelings had come raging back through his veins in an instant, overwhelming, all-consuming, setting his mind and body alight with a burning passion.

But she’d said he was her friend. So he doubted that she felt the same kind of love for him that he felt for her. He must bear that in mind and act accordingly, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t the case.

Stepping back from her, he let his hand fall from her face and smiled sadly at her.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[vs-redemption]

This is the sixth piece out of seven written for the one year anniversary collaboration event for the @konoblog-simps discord. I encourage everyone to check out the masterlist for today's prompt and support the other creators. Some content might not be suitable for minors so please pay attention to the warnings.

Prompt: Places (Jean Kirstein x GN!Reader)

Word Count: 800+ Warnings: None

Jean figured he must’ve been something remarkable in his past like, like a hero or a saint, because there was no way he’d done enough in his current lifetime to deserve you. In fact, it still amazed him that you’d actually agreed to go on a date with him at all. But here you both were, several years later, walking hand in hand up to the rickety wooden entrance to the first place he’d ever taken you.

“You would think they’d at least apply a new coat of paint or something once in a while,” He huffs while reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

“I think it adds to the nostalgia to come back and find it just the way it always was,” you titter happily, looking up at your boyfriend with a sweet smile. The stern look on Jean’s face softens as he takes in the sight of you, cheeks and nose slightly pink from the cold despite being bundled up so adorably in your puffy jacket and scarf.

“I think it probably wouldn’t even pass a safety inspection,” he grumbles even though he knew his complaining was pointless. There were plenty of other places he would prefer to take you that were much nicer, but he could never refuse to bring you back here when it made you so happy to revisit the place where your journey as a couple had begun. It was enough to know that your relationship meant as much to you as it did to him, so he would continue to bring you to this shabby little apple orchard for as long as it kept putting that heartwarming smile on your face.

“What attractions do you want to do this year?” He asks once you get to the front of the line.

“I want to do them all!” It was the same answer you always gave. Jean hands over the correct amount to pay for two passes before sliding his hand back into yours and heading into the main area where a few people sat around on old wooden picnic tables, eating their fresh donuts and apple cider.

“Let’s do the corn maze first?” he suggests and you nod eagerly.

“After that, let’s check out the petting zoo!”

Despite the run down state of the place, Jean always ended up enjoying the annual visit. Somehow, he always ended up leaving feeling even more in love with you than when he’d arrived. The way you gasped and immediately grabbed onto his arm when rounding a corner in the maze to find a particularly frightening scarecrow showed him just how much you trusted him to protect you. And watching you get so excited about petting and feeding a bunch of baby animals, as dirty and smelly as he thought they were, never failed to remind him of your softer, more nurturing side. He adored everything about you.

“Jean, can you try to reach some of the ones at the top?” You ask him as you hop on your toes to try and reach an apple hanging on the branch above your head.

“Babe, I don’t know if you should eat these,” he admits after the apple basically falls off into his hand at the slightest touch. “They don’t seem like the best. We can always go to another orchard.”

“No, it’s fine!” You assure him while taking the overly ripe fruit he hands you and putting them gently into the bag you’d purchased before entering the rows of apple trees. “We can make pie with these. It’s going to be so yummy! Promise!”

Jean wasn’t going to argue with that. He had no idea how you could find the silver lining in almost any situation, but he was glad that you did. After all, you saw more positive aspects in him than he had ever been able to see in himself. He was a little like the withered apples you were carrying in that respect. After falling into your care, they would be given new purpose and transformed from something off-putting into something truly enticing. He could definitely relate to that. Through the years he’d spent on the receiving end of your care and love, he’d slowly become more confident and optimistic about life. It was just another reason he’d fallen head over heels for you. You made him a better man.

“Did you want to do anything else before heading home, love?” Jean asks once it seemed you’d done everything you could possibly do.

“No, let’s get back so we can warm up and start on dinner,” you tell him while looping your arm into his. He smiles and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead before directing you toward the exit. Although he often made a fuss about always visiting the same run down orchard, deep down he knew he wouldn’t really want to take you anywhere else. As you both meander out the same rickety gate you’d entered from, Jean was already looking forward to the next year when he could bring you back.

[secret-engima]

missingmywing

Okay, but imagine Ignis as Rufus. Who looks around, and sees everything that he fought against in a previous lifetime, now in power, now with the expectation that he would endorse it. And Ignis knows politics, he spent a childhood previously elbow-deep in the thick them, learning to protect his prince. He knows the games, the moves. Sharp minded, ever practical Ignis looks around and says "No. This will not stand."

missingmywing

And every move he makes has several layers of purpose. He plays the son of the President to a T- all the while doing everything in his power to undermine Shinra. And he looks at the Turks, and sees potential. (I could also see him as Lazard, but I feel like Rufus would be more fitting, somehow.)

missingmywing

As for Gladio: Angeal. A complete 180 from his last life, he grows up with nothing but his family, and he loves them even as he aches for what isn't there. And then he meets a redhead boy who's all swagger and tough-talk with a temper that he can't fully fight back and suddenly has the thought "Is this what Ignis felt like dealing with me?" Suddenly Gladio is the braincell, arguing against a boy who feels he has something to prove and will do reckless things to prove it.

missingmywing

And he follows after a boy who he feels doesn't take things seriously enough, and is too immature, but this time it's not out of duty. It's to keep this boy who's a reflection of himself at his absolute worst, with none of the growth or maturity he grew into, from getting himself killed taking on something he can't handle. (And then he meets Sephiroth. And then he meets Ignis. And things suddenly get very complicated. And about twenty times more stressful.)

Me: Oooo this is GLORIOUS. @swiftyue suggested Ignis as Tseng, which is ALSO glorious, but I will admit this one is more tempting. Just-

Ignis is reborn and for a while he doesn’t remember. But then there’s a kidnapping attempt that is both successful and also not, and the Turks find “Rufus” two weeks later out in the wastelands outside Midgar with shaking hands and too-keen eyes, because Rufus almost died and now Ignis has WOKEN UP.

Only to find that now HE is the royalty (in all but name). HE is the child of a cruel empire, destined to sit on its throne and he hates it, he HATES it.

He looks out upon all Rupert Shinra (not father, NEVER father, that bloody, apathetic tyrant will never be Ignis’s parent) has built and decides he will tear it down. He will rip it up by the roots and if nothing can be salvaged then he will burn it to the ground.

But he is (was) the Hand of a king, he knows better than to rush out like a revolutionary, causing collateral left and right, hurting the innocent people. He will not be one of those angry, shortsighted vigilantes who tear down businesses, ruin livelihoods and break families of the ordinary citizens who’s only sin is that they, like so many others, live and work in the shadow of Shinra’s sins. Oh no.

Ignis stands to inherit an empire. He has a lifetime of political training and experience and patience to back him up already. He was a CORNERSTONE of the survival of mankind during the Long Night.

He will play the long game, he has the time. He will sit on his throne and move his pieces across Rupert Shinra’s board.

And he will win.

He wears the name and skin of Rufus Shinra like a theater mask, a tailored suit. He listens to everything his tutors can give him and then sneaks off to the library for more. The mayor finds him endearing really, with his gentle manners and his lust for knowledge of history, arts, and sciences. He watches the Turks that guard him and in them he sees the keys to all of Shinra, and so he plays that game too. The Turks underestimate him, even as they watch his “prodigy mind” absorbing information years ahead of what he should be. Rupert is thrilled to have a genius child, but even he doesn’t know how vast Ignis’s mind is. Only the Turks get that glimpse, and only the ones he thinks are worthy.

Tseng quickly becomes a favorite, he reminds Ignis of himself, and they get along splendidly. Reno and Rude come later, a matched pair that reminds Ignis of things from his past life and make him smile (the first time Tseng hears Rufus laugh out loud, he goes still in shock. Reno, a new rookie Turk at the time, has no clue what a miracle he’s created just by trying and failing to make hot chocolate, how the young child of the president hasn’t openly laughed or smiled since his kidnapping and two week disappearance.)

One by one, Ignis draws the Turks in. He is charismatic for his age and smart, he knows how to win people over, especially people who know that he was “up to something”. Some of them he wins over by being “endearingly bad” at manipulation, like a Coeurl cub being cooed at for its clumsy pounces rather than feared for the deadly killer it is teaching itself to become. Others he wins over with his mind, impressing the keen sighted with his intelligence and drive and work ethic.

Some, like Tseng, he wins over by being the most of himself he’s ever been. It’s Tseng who discovers Ignis’s cooking obsession, how baking from scratch and making filling dishes for others to eat relaxes him like nothing else. It’s Tseng who realizes one day that his charge wears the name “Rufus Shinra” like an suit that is tailored wrong so that it chafes and wears.

But Ignis knows he’s won the Turks the day Veld comes to visit (as he sometimes does, for the head of such a deadly division, the man has a heart for children and Rufus is the only one he has any reason to visit during his long months of work) and catches Tseng calling Ignis “Ignis”, because Tseng had asked what name he would prefer over “Rufus” and Ignis had dared to answer honestly, and doesn’t tell Rupert. He just watches Tseng and Ignis interact with sharp eyes, accept the muffin Ignis bossily pressed into his hand, and then let it slide.

An identity crisis is something Rupert would have wanted to know (should have been told). But Rupert never speaks of it and Ignis is certain he doesn’t know. Veld has kept the secret. And it’s only a little one really, but it’s one of Ignis’s secrets Veld is choosing to keep. It’s foot in the door.

Ignis can do a lot with a foot in the door.

And then of course later, Ignis learns he’s not alone. He reunites with Gladio first, and the Turks sit up internally at how FAST their young vice president bonds with the Soldier, how quickly they fall into a rhythm around each other that speaks of years of partnership rather than a few months of friendship.

And then he learns there are OTHER. Prompto and Luna and NOCTIS and Ignis could cry from relief that he is not alone anymore in this second lifetime. He is not the only one anymore.

...

And YES. GLADIO AS ANGEAL LET’S DO THAT. I just- I love this idea so much. That Gladio wakes up when he’s young, and he remembers- being someone else. Being a Shield and a Crownsguard and a leader and a brother and now-

Now he’s an only child, an ordinary child in an ordinary orchard town and he loves his parents, he does, and he loves the lazy days of BEING a child without having to train for an inherited duty but-.

But it still aches.

He walks in the shadow of someone no one can see, and he watches the sunrise and thinks he hears a camera clicking when there is none, and sometimes he can barely swallow his mother’s apple pie because it’s GOOD but it ISN’T IGGY’S. It tastes WRONG, like it’s less somehow than Ignis’s familiar (safe, home) cooking and- and it hurts. It makes him quieter and steadier than most kids, more patient and more honorable. He has been a leader of men, a Shield of a King (a brother who failed), a warrior who helped hold back the darkness of the Long Night. The problems of children seem awfully small compared to all that.

And then he meets Genesis. Genesis who is too smart and too immature by turns, who is BRIGHT and brilliant and has something to prove wherever he goes, because his rich parents may love him, but they do not pay attention to him in the way he needs and all Angeal (Gladio) can see is himself. Young and stubborn and angry at a world that already has his destiny laid out, eager to prove himself in any way he could an Astrals is this how Ignis felt dealing with him? No wonder his brother in arms got so impatient sometimes. Angeal feels like smacking Genesis upside the head more than once, but instead he bites it back and channels his adult side into keeping this kid from doing something dumb.

It takes him a few years to realize he is now Genesis’s Ignis and inside he’s a bit of a Scream™.

Angeal has no interest in Shinra, he can smell the corruption from a hundred miles away, but Genesis is obsessed and not willing to budge on this no matter how Angeal wheedles, so the day Genesis runs off to sign up, Angeal is on his heels sighing bitterly that he is once again signing himself up to a military life.

And then he meets Sephiroth, who is so clearly abused and weaponized and lost in a world outside the labs that it HURTS and Angeal can’t stop himself from being a Shield again. From standing between Sephiroth and the world with a steady, controlled ferocity that unknowingly takes Sephiroth’s breath away.

(Sephiroth meets them in Wutai, two more recruits to the war, and at first he has only eyes for Genesis, who is loud and competitive and confusing and annoying)

(He doesn’t really notice the bigger one with black hair and knowing eyes trailing along behind)

(Until another Soldier starts getting too pushy and angry over something Sephiroth did that he doesn’t understand and his control over his instincts to lash out is shaking and then suddenly there’s someone standing between them, a wall of muscle where there was none before, a broad young back of another Soldier, a rookie, who looks the older Soldier in the eyes and growls at him to back off while Genesis orbits nearby with a fire materia and a gleam in his eyes.)

(And Sephiroth learns that the wall’s name is Angeal)

Angeal gets attached, and during one of his leaves, he comes back with a tender back and arms from the tattoo of an eagle with spread wings (and the style is wrong, not like his old one, he’d gone to a Wutai parlor and they had a different art style, but it is HIS. His feathers and his promise. When Sephiroth runs curious fingers down the feathers on his bicep, Angeal tells him it’s a promise to his friends and Sephiroth looks surprised to realize that he is included in that promise).

Then they are recalled to Midgar, to a city that stinks of corruption and Angeal-

And Gladio-

Finds Ignis again.

And that is stressful, because what if that means Noct is out there alone somewhere, but it is also a RELIEF because he never knew how exhausting being the group Braincell was until now and he needs to vent, even if it means Ignis gets to laugh at his misery.

[awkwardbluefish]

Hearts of Passion

-

Summary: Pamela Isley didn't know what to expect when she felt someone else in her orchard. She isn't expecting a skinny kid dressed up as Robin, picking fruit from her trees without a care in the world. He's an interesting Sapling, that was for sure.

Warnings: Swearing

-

Pamela Isley didn’t know what she was expecting when that distant tug in the back of her mind caught her attention. Someone was in her orchard and that someone was shifting through her garden, through her mind.

Not many people knew that the plants Pamela grew were a part of her. They were attached to her, to her mind and to her very being. She felt them grow, felt them live. She also felt them die. It was never a pleasant experience, and she doubts it ever would be. But now someone was in her orchard, in her garden. They trekked along the grass, boots scuffing at the back of her mind. They weren’t hurting her plants but there was always the possibility. Blood red hair brushes her shoulder as she cocks her head to the side, lips pressing together in a purse as her eyelids hide her irises in a wary slit. Her plants, and therefore her, wanted to investigate, to ease that twitch of curiosity thrumming in their shared veins. What on Earth was this person doing?

Very few people trekked through the groves of Robinson Park. It was common knowledge that Pamela Isley, no, Poison Ivy resided among the vines and moss at the depth of the parks. The only ones that willingly entered Ivy’s mangrove were Harleen and Selina, the two woman Isley has reluctantly grown attached to throughout the years. There were two other visitors her garden has grown familiar with, two which were not welcome but seemed to welcome themselves in either way. Batman and Robin.

Herleen, the idiotic woman, was currently in Arkham. The joker had once again twisted her thoughts, manipulating the blonde in such a way that Harley felt like she had no free will, felt like she couldn’t disobey her puddin’. Isley wasn’t happy, far from it. Despite being a psychiatrist Harley could never seem to pick apart that things mind enough to understand he was using her. He didn’t love her and he never would. Not like she could. If Joker ever came within the range of her and her plants, Ivy would choke him.

Selina and herself were planning to get Harleen out. Normally they wouldn’t go near Arkham with a ten foot pole, but Harleen was family and right now she was being exploited by a man that wanted nothing but chaos and destruction. They had to get her out, to help her. It would take a while and Harley would go through relapses but she was family, their friend, so they would try. For her.

Her mind tugs, pulling in the back of her brain. Her plants were curious, thrumming with energy. The need to know, to touch, to understand flowed through the link with such a searing intensity that Isley felt her pulse buzz and heighten in response. It was clear to her now that this being wasn’t here to hurt her babies, they were searching for something, exploring. Interesting. She lets the vines tug at her mind, their desire to investigate just as intense as her own.

She hums softly, the sound bubbling in her throat and echoing quietly around her. Each step she took were careful but graceful as she follows the tugging on her mind, letting the ebb pull her to the source. Flowers curl around her ankles, a soft sensation enough to tickle at her skin, vines brushing along her collar bone in a warm greeting before retreating, blending in with their own kind. Her babies part for her, green leaves tickling her cheeks as they make an opening for her, a door to the source of their excitement today.

A boy, young and far too skinny and dressed in familiar colours stare up at her, white lenses wide and muscles coiled. This was Robin but the small sapling was new, smaller than the first. It seems Batman has gotten another flower to blossom in his slowly but surely growing garden. Interesting indeed.

A vine curls around her wrists, cold leathery skin reassuring. Ivy doesn’t move, watching the boy with interest. The young sapling had been careful with her babies as he tugged fresh juicy fruit from her trees. Pamela liked this one already. The other Robin was far too energetic, not seeming to care for the babies that provided life to their world. Sure, the first sapling didn’t seek out to hurt her plants, only when he deemed it necessary, therefore when Poison Ivy was using her babies for revenge against the chemical companies. Still, he had hurt her babies so maybe Isley was being bias.

“Those are my fruit young Sapling.” She waves her palm, the vine slithering away from her wrist to wrap around the boys’ basket. An indignant shout escapes the boys lips but Ivy has to give him credit when its due, he doesn’t go after the basket.

The vine places the wooden basket down by her feet. Cherry red apples shimmer under her gaze, as well as blood red tomatoes. What on earth was the young sapling doing?

“You may control the plants but that doesn’t mean you own them!” Robin grumbles, lips twitching into a frown. The boys shoulders were tense, arms crossed tight to his chest. A barrier made instinctively between them, covering his heart as well as other vital organs. Smart. He was subtly defensive, as if to not to trigger her. Now that was interesting. Not that it would do much if Isley wanted to attack.

Isley chuckles, curiosity peaked as she lowers herself to her knees. She reaches into the basket, plucks out a tomato that sinks into her palm. Ripe and just perfect to be eaten. But the boy wasn’t eating, he was collecting. “Oh contrary little sapling. You are right, I do not own these babies or control them. I protect them and they let me. Now would you like to tell me why you’re collecting fruit from my garden?”

Robin frowns, face flushing red, a stark contrast to the black domino resting along his cheekbones. A foot begins to bounce and Isley watches the boy flounder with cool green eyes, seeing his limbs lock up in a freeze, sees his chest raise in slow controlled breaths. He was trying to get control of his anxiety; he was a smart one. He sure did hide his emotions better than the first one, but he was still a child and they were as plain to read as an open picture book. Isley lets him think, rearranging the fruit to prevent bruising. No need to bruise perfectly good food because of the packaging.

“And I should tell you why?” The boy grumbles, a chin jutting out and arms tightening around his chest. Isley snorts softly to herself, understanding the kids’ wariness but finding it amusing all the same. Unlike what the media likes to portray, Isley does not attack innocents, especially children. The first Boy Wonder however hadn’t left her too much of a choice. Its survival of the fittest in Gotham and there was no way she was being sent back to Arkham simply because she wanted to protect and grow her babies. She made sure to never seriously harm the older Robin though. Despite his treatment to her babies, he still managed to wiggle a way into her green heart.

“I’m just curious sapling,” she continues to kneel, willing moss to grow beneath her. There, now that was much more comfortable. “If you have a good reason, I’ll let you take the fruit home. I don’t just let greedy little children take my freshly grown produce only to waste them.”

The boy bristles, shoulders tensing in anger. The arms tighten before throwing down to his side, foot flattening the grass beneath his pixie boots in the stomp of anger. Ivy was expecting his defiance but she assumed it would be on his own behalf. But that wasn’t the case. Robin was angered over someone else’s behalf. Interesting.

“The kids in crime alley aren’t greedy little children!” He roars, words laced in that familiar Gotham drawl Ivy has gotten used to since moving here from Seattle.  “They’re just trying to survive! They’ve been left on the streets to die and without nutrients in their systems it’ll be sooner rather than later! They are the farthest thing from greedy when referring to fuckin’ food! Yes, they steal, yes they might be pests but it’s not like food is handed to them on a silver platter like the majority of the people in this selfish city!”

Ivy hums, throat vibrating as a smile pulls at her glossed lips. She stands up, gripping the basket handle as she goes. Robin goes stiff, attempting to cool his features from his righteous fury. It doesn’t quite work but the effort was valiant if nothing else.

“That’s quite a statement little one. A statement I’d have to agree on,” Robins jaw drops and Pamela chuckles, a familiar warmth bubbling in her stomach. She was getting fond of people far too easily these days. “You have passion in this subject so I guess asking your opinion on an upcoming project of mine would be best.”

“What project?” Robin growls and Ivy’s smile goes a little less mischievous and a little more warm. She wasn’t only passionate about plants after all.

She strides forwards, makes her form lax. She didn’t want to frighten the child; she was not about to harm him. Robin still tenses and Pamela can feel his gaze making holes through her body. “I’ve been thinking of this little project for a while now. Of course, if I just begun it without consulting with a trusting authority then it would be a mere waste. I wish to grow fruit and vegetables in crime alley. Of course, that’s only the beginning, I hope to grow food for anyone in need in Gotham where they have free access.”

Isley meets his whiteouts in a gaze, knows the boy is assessing her. His shoulders are tense, muscles once again coiled but he doesn’t run. He doesn’t attack either. He’s interested, hope taught in his form. But he won’t bite, not yet. If he had Pamela would call Batman herself, demanding the boy to be put under more training. To not trust so easily, not without all the details. This sapling was a bright one.

“What do you get out of it?” The kid demands, once again coming in defence to protect the street kids. Interesting. There just had to be some history there. No one was protective of street kids, not unless they were one, had been one or had enough compassion and sympathy that just did not belong in Gotham.

Isley hums, a small smile twisting at her strawberry coated lips. she would have to dig into that later. “What do I gain hmm? I gain nothing. Nothing but being relieved at not seeing children die, to see kids fight over a mouldy piece of bread. If I’m lucky, I’ll also be able to see these children smile, live like the children they are. But I cannot do that by myself.”

Robin doesn’t take the basket, not yet, but Isley can see his form relaxing, melting at her words. He wants this to, with a burning passion that Isley feels towards plant life. It was important to this boy. There was definitely some history there that Isley was just dying to find out. Later though. Right now, was a chance to put her long waiting plan to action. A chance to put her gifts to good, to use her powers in a way the was seen as socially acceptable. There was a need within her that never seem to abate, the need for acceptance. This need couldn’t just be filled by her babies, no matter how hard they tried.

“Why not?” It’s snapped out, words meaning to be harsh but Isley smiles. He couldn’t quite be menacing when the hope in his voice seemed to outshine even the sun. Cute.

“People would stop me. They would believe I was up to something, that I plan on poisoning innocent children or wanted something in exchange. The police would blow up my babies, maybe even arrest some street kids on the way if they were near. Batman would cut up my babies, arrest me too most likely. Despite the medias propaganda, I do truly wish to help.”

Robin’s expression had lifted, lightening during Isley’s small speech. The frown had tugged up, not quite a smile but definitely not a frown either. His head had tilted, much like a curious puppy as she talked, relaxing in an open body posture. He wasn’t tense, wasn’t in defence. He was completely curious, interested. Eager almost.

“To help plants,” Robin points out and Isley smiles.

“They’re one in the same, are they not? I wish to help plants to help people. I wish to help plants to help the Earth. Plants are being killed off and so are the oxygen supplies, the food. Plants are what I’m passionate about but they lead into so many other things.” Isley admits. She always wanted to help people and plants could do that. Humans were too dense to make sense of it, however.

Robin gazes at her, past her walls and her crimes. It was like being truly seen for the first time, by someone other than Harleen and Selina. It was frightening but it also felt undeniably good.

“You really mean it don’t you? You just want to help.” Robin’s expression is open, cheeks flushed and lips parted. He gazed up at Isley in awe, as if she were a one of a kind. She almost felt embarrassed. The kids shakes his head, a grin full of teeth. A smile, full of childish wonder nearly blinds her as he takes the basket from her outstretched palm. “Next time maybe don’t attack big companies? It might do some good for your image!”

Isley laughs, chest rumbling and a warmth coiling its way around her heart. There was no doubt about it, in a few minutes she had grown undeniably fond of this kid, the new Robin. Harleen and Selina would never let her live it down.

“Thanks Dr. Isley! I’ll talk to B-Man and sort something out! Just don’t go attacking anyone and I think he’d be okay with it!” A flutter of a cape and the click of a grabble gun and Isley is alone with her babies once again.

She smiles, pets a vine curling around her wrist. “He’s a cheeky sapling, isn’t he?”

Her babies agree and Isley knows she isn’t the only fond one of the boy.

[kiss-my-freckle]

The mark: Neville or Constantin

Red: A confluence of peril had entered your life, and I wanted to be within reach, to have influence.

I started theorizing Tom’s character in 2x19 due to Red’s confluence of peril reference. imo, a second “unknown” employer for Tom was introduced in that moment.

Red: The secrets she took with her could compromise any number of players on that map. They’ll be coming. They’ll be coming for you.

In Arioch Cain (3x5), the enemy coming for Masha branched off. It’s my opinion that Red was preparing for a war against Neville Townsend up until the moment he received the “Rostova” painting, but once he received the painting, knew that it was Constantin Rostov coming for her. imo, those “secrets” Red spoke to in 3x11 would be the secrets contained in the Sikorsky Archive that Katarina stole in 1990. 

Red: As I feared would happen, elements from Katarina’s past are circling Elizabeth like a pack of wolves in the night. I put Tom Keen in her life to keep an eye on her, and he married her. Kate: This isn’t about Tom Keen. It’s about your need for control. Red: Indeed. I need to control the danger to Elizabeth. I’ve built a vast criminal network predicated on that very principal. It’s time to live up to my mission statement.

In 4x17, Red connected Tom to Katarina in his own dialogue. One must consider her deceased since 1990 given her fake death and change of identity. That’s why her name had been lost to history. 

Red: Katarina Rostova was a name that had been lost to history. 

To connect Tom to Katarina Rostova specifically, he had to be connected to her through someone or something that existed up to but not surpassing 1990. The only thing I saw (at any time throughout the series) connecting Tom to the past was the mark in his go-box. This mark immediately connected him to the night of the fire because the mark had to be there in order to scar her.

Forget about Berlin. He had NOTHING to do with Red's surrender.

What I'm stuck with now, is choosing which of these two men Tom worked for because both are directly connected to Katarina Rostova, while only one was said to be the reason Red turned himself in.  

Constantin Rostov vs Neville Townsend

1. Both connect to Katarina Rostova in 1990 (or prior to). 

Katarina: Seeing Masha with Constantin makes me think of my own father. I wonder what he would say now about the choices I’ve made.Look at me - in love with the man I was sent to seduce and betray. An American. Raymond wants me to run, take Masha and disappear with him. But how could I do that to her? She’s my entire life. She’s everything.

Woman: N-13 is an operative. The “N” stands for “neopoznanny,” the Russian word for “unidentified.” 13 represents the 13 packets of intel he stole from Lubyanka Square in 1990.

2. Both could’ve been at the fire, but I lean toward Neville. 

Kirk: Do you know what I’m thinking, Raymond? That house by the water, holding a gun in your mouth… I should have pulled the trigger.

Kirk: One day I came home, and you were gone. He’d taken you. I never thought I’d ever see you again… until there you were - in the news, you… and Reddington - the most wanted fugitives in the world.

While Constantin spoke of the house by the water, he never thought he’d see Masha again after she was abducted, which means he didn’t see her after she was taken from the campus. He could’ve went after Reddington at the beach house at any time prior to that. 

Katarina: Listen, carefully - you stay here with Masha. Speak to no one. Do not answer the door or the telephone. Don’t go out unless you absolutely have to. Listen. When it’s safe, I’ll call with instructions. I’ll ring once, hang up, and call back. Understand? Lock the door behind me.

Katarina's actions at the motel room with Kate gave off the impression that she and Masha were already being tracked by someone even though the motel was an hour’s drive away from the fire. 

Either one could’ve scarred Masha, but I have a hard time believing Constantin left both Katarina and Masha at the fire. I believe he would’ve waited for them to exit the beach house and made sure they got home safely.

3. Masha’s paternity and the fabricated DNA report. 

In 1x22, Tom whispered to Liz that her father’s alive. Despite what many believe, he had no idea Raymond Reddington was her father. I believe he was speaking of Constantin Rostov. 

Kirk: I had proof that she was my daughter. A DNA test. Red: You saw what Katarina wanted you to see. She lied to you about everything.

If Neville is connected in any way to Constantin, the KGB, Moscow, or perhaps even a Russian official, he may have been given a copy of Rostov’s fabricated DNA report. Constantin had reason to believe he was the father because Red told him Katarina fabricated it. Either way, either of these two men could’ve given Tom a copy of Kirk’s fabricated DNA report, but I don’t believe it was in Kirk’s SVR file. Neville would have to believe Constantin was the father, despite the possibility of him questioning Masha’s paternity after the fire. 

4. The Russian connection. 

Gina Zanetakos, Berlin and fake Berlin, Constantin and his possible fake are all of Russian descent. If Neville connects through Russia, he could be connected to one or all of these characters. Same can be said of Constantin. If Tom was employed by either one, they could be how he connects to all of these characters. 

Tom: Did the same thing last month. It’s probably why you don’t recognize me. Constantin. Berlin, man, he’s tough. I had to get away for a while, go to Germany, figure a few things out. Constantin: I come here for the peace and quiet. Tom: Sure. Sorry. Gosh, you know, I just thought maybe you could help me. Man: He said to piss off, pal. Tom: Just take a minute. Constantin: I don’t know who that is. Tom: I think you do. Why don’t you take another look?

5. The Drexel painting, the blood pool, and the Devry map.

While it's hard to say what woman commissioned the painting of Masha Rostova on behalf of Alexander Kirk, it could've been anyone. Gina, Odette, and Scottie are my suspects. I'm not even sure the woman who commissioned the painting is relevant at this point, only that Kirk was the one who had it sent to Red. 

What I am interested in is the Devry map and the message Red sent in blood in Arioch Cain. If he were doing as I believe - preparing for a war against The Townsend Directive in 3x12, then I believe his message in that blood pool in Arioch Cain was directed toward Neville. Because Neville could be connected to Constantin, he may have reached out and waited to see if Constantin would force Katarina to surface. After all, Constantin had no idea his wife was a KGB agent, so it's likely he had no idea she had a bounty on her head. 

The Devry map makes more sense for Neville because of the parallels they’ve thrown in to the Fulcrum and the Cabal with that Sikorsky Archive. I'd expect Cabal’s competition to be much larger and consider the Townsend Directive a better fit for actual competition against them. And as I’ve said before, the way Red spoke of those secrets Katarina took with her fits more in line with Neville than Rostov. He was after a woman he believed could save his life, not secrets Katarina had. If Constantin had no idea his wife was a KGB agent, he’d have no idea she took these secrets with her anyway. Certainly not secrets that could compromise any number of players on the map. It just fits more in line with Neville.  

6. Tom’s three passports.

Either Neville or Constantin could've issued those three passports Red mentioned in 1x18 and Liz questioned him about in S2. imo, he lied about Red issuing those passports.

Red: Lizzy, I’ve been monitoring Tom since he entered your life. About a year ago, I discovered that he had purchased three passports from a trusted forger I use in Warsaw.

Liz: Can you be honest about the passports? Tom: The passports? Liz: They’re real - Government issue. Where’d you get them? Tom: Berlin had a guy. Liz: I guess not. Tom: Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. I can’t. Not about this. Liz: That’s not how the truth works. You don’t get to pick and choose. Not if you want to learn how to swim.

Tom: I’ve been thinking about what you said – About needing to tell you the truth. So I’m gonna tell you the truth. Liz: I don’t understand. Tom: The passports - The passports came from Reddington.

What it would look like....

Red told Liz in the pilot, “Someone tried to hurt you.” Liz herself made several mentions to the idea that she got the scar from her father. This could speak to either Raymond or Constantin. However, if she’s getting the roles reversed in her head (as Dr. Orchard spoke of in 2x10), it could’ve been anyone. 

Constantin

If employed by Constantin Rostov, would simply appear that he was trying to reunite Masha with a man he believed to be her real father. He’s a quick and easy connection, but he’d need to be the reason Red reentered Liz’s life when he did. Did Red kneel on the seal because he saw this mark and connected it to Constantin Rostov? I doubt it. Red's pre-pilot scene with Kate in 4x17 came off urgent and rather desperate. He considered this enemy an immediate threat. 

Neville

I can’t even begin to describe how this looks in current story. Neville put a bounty on Katarina's head. He wanted her dead. Period. Setting up the woman from Paris (imposter Katarina) was done in an effort to protect Masha, so Dom felt she was in direct danger of Neville using her as leverage to get to Katarina. 

Young Dom: Do you know they’ve assembled a directive? The Russian Vory, KGB, the Americans - her enemies - have pooled their resources and put a bounty on her head. They’re calling it the Townsend Directive. Young Ilya: Neville Townsend? Young Dom: He’s at the top of a very long list of people who want her dead. Young Ilya: Are you worried they’ll find you? Young Dom: I’m worried they’ll find Masha, try and leverage her. Young Ilya: Look, Dom, I - I can’t help you. Young Dom: You made a promise! To Katarina. You told her you would look after Masha if anything happened to her. Young Ilya: Yes, but I can’t call off Townsend. And he will not stop looking. Young Dom: Sure, he will. He’ll stop looking. And so will the rest of them if Katarina’s dead.

Young Dom: He’ll never stop. And instead of protecting my granddaughter, we’ve put a target on her back. Young Ilya: Oh, stop using the child as an excuse! This was about you, Dom. Young Dom: This was about Masha!

In seeing Tom with this mark, Red would see Neville in Masha’s life and consider her in immediate danger because Neville would use her as leverage. This would give him enough reason to turn himself in. 

If he's connected to the mark in Tom's box, Neville was introduced in the very pilot and had been discussed several times since then.

Red: But if I die you’ll never know the truth about your husband.

Red: You’ve discovered something curious about your husband, haven’t you, Lizzy?

Red: Tell me about your husband. Does he know you as well as you know him? Does he know about you as a child? Does he know about the fire?

Red: Right now, the only thing that matters is the immediate threat - your husband - finding out who he is and who he works for. The rest will come. I promise you.

If he's connected to the mark, in framing Red and Gina with it, Tom removed his own association to Neville and made it appear as though Red and Gina were assisting Neviille in finding and killing her mother.

Red: God willing, Katarina’s daughter will live a private life of quiet courage. But if anyone learns her identity, the only way I can stop the threats from rising is to rise up as a greater threat than all of them.

Liz already sought revenge against Red for Tom's death in S5. In 8x4's sneak peek, she's having pretty little flashbacks of Tom proposing to her on the pier in S3. She pulled Tom's go-box from her vent in S7. There are parallels to future episodes from what I've seen of audition spoilers, so Tom's box continues to play into the storyline through dialogue. There have been numerous mentions to him throughout the series since his death in S5. In current storyline, imagine what it would look like for Liz to be seeking revenge against Red for killing a woman she believes is her mother, only to turn around and find out that her dead husband worked for the very man who put a bounty on her mother's head.

Red: I turned myself in to the FBI to point you toward a truth that inevitably you would have to discover for yourself.

If he's connected to the mark, Neville Townsend and Tom’s connection to him was the truth Red was trying to point Liz to from the very beginning. The very man who would’ve scarred her at the fire, which would've given him reason to question her about it in the pilot. 

Red: Someone tried to hurt you.

Even better if I’m right about Liz’s second memory wipe and Tom was involved in Red’s Vanessa Cruz shooting. Because Red is Liz’s mother.

[chronicallyhaughty]

I just love being with you

@ricky-toffee​ WELP. This... took a while. Ironically this was mainly because I fell in love with the prompt, lol. But here, have almost 3k words of me loving demons loving each other.

[Genyatta, AO3, Ko-fi]

———————————————

The plot of land is small, but it has everything Zenyatta needs. The little orchard he tends barely qualifies for the name, being more a copse of apple trees, but the apples they produce have an unusual sweetness. His blatant interest in the apples the moment Ingrid offered him one to try when he first came to look at the house must have been what convinced the Lindholms to allow him to purchase the house.

Like most of the other houses on the surrounding islands, the cottage Zenyatta has called home for the past three years is a deep red with bright white corners, and simple black shingles cover the roof. With help from his neighbours, he has renovated it piece by piece until it is very much his own.

It is a one floor building with an attic best suited for storage instead of people, but Zenyatta has considered preparing the space for year-round habitation. There is a brick chimney for the open fireplace in the living room – that would help keep the attic warm in the colder months, as it does for the bedroom – and the room is traditionally furnished with sheepskins and wooden sofas that double as additional storage.

The back of the fireplace juts into the bedroom, helping the radiators keep the whole house warm during the colder months. The solar panels on the roof provide enough power for lights and even hot water for the shower, in moderation. In the winter months he boils water on the kitchen wood stove for the dishes and laundry, and walks or skates across the ice to shower at the Lindholm’s house.

The island is small, just under ten acres, and pine trees take up most of it. He has a small dock and a rowboat with a motor that he rarely bothers to install, much less use. It is not a long trip over to his neighbours, after all, and he enjoys the exercise. Beside the house there is a root cellar, a garden shed with an open section for firewood, and a hammock he has set up between two of the sturdier apple trees. The wildflowers and rose bushes, strawberries and raspberries thrive, and the floor of the pine forest, small as it is, is covered in bilberries and lingonberries.

He has placed a little fox statue by the door, for protection and good luck.

This particular day has been spent picking berries in the forest, and as afternoon turns to evening he’s just putting on a pot of coffee to go with the bilberry pie he baked, when there is a knock on the door.

Now, a knock on the door wouldn’t be alarming for most people, but, well. Zenyatta happens to be the only occupant on this island. The only visitors he usually receives are the Lindholms, and they usually call ahead, or at the very least announce their presence with the engine on their skiff.

There has been no rumble of an engine tonight.

The knock comes again, and Zenyatta hums to himself, “’Tis some visitor, nothing more,” and goes to open the door.

Beyond the door stands a man. Perhaps. Many minute details about this man tell Zenyatta that there is more to him than what meets the untrained eye, like the way he holds himself, the way he quickly glances over the hall before finally settling on Zenyatta.

“Can I help you?” Zenyatta asks regardless, because he has manners.

“I saw the light on, decided to come say hello.” The man smiles winningly at him. For a second he glances down to the dock where only his own boat lies at rest, considers calling out the absurdity of that statement, but, then again… Zenyatta smiles back, enjoying the swiftly disguised surprise on the other’s face.

“Well, do come in. I just put on some coffee, in case of an unexpected visit. How fortuitous!”

Should the man prove troublesome, Zenyatta is confident he can handle it. Should he bring no trouble, well, then he will have made a new friend.

“Sugar? Milk?” Zenyatta checks the oven. “Pie?”

At that, the man, who had been casting his eyes about Zenyatta’s home with interest, visibly perks up and focuses on the kitchen.

“Yes! To all three. Please,” tacked on almost as an afterthought. Zenyatta doesn’t mind, letting the man admire the cornflower blue cupboards as he goes about fetching another cup, plate, and dessert fork.

“I believe that in our excitement we forgot to make introductions,” he remarks as he puts on oven mitts and carefully extracts the pie. “I am Zenyatta. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Genji, and likewise. Man, that smells amazing.” Genji is suddenly nearly right on top of Zenyatta, looking over his shoulder at the pie. Zenyatta hadn’t even heard him move. He gestures at the plates next to the pie tin.

“Guests first.”

—————

“There’s something about you,” Genji says through a mouthful of bilberry pie. It is nice to have his cooking appreciated. “You are far from home, I think.”

“And you are not?” Zenyatta retorts, and Genji laughs, not answering. A true enigma.

Together, they manage to demolish half the pie in between hours of conversation, until Zenyatta glances outside to find it pitch black.

“Oh dear, it has gotten so late already. Can you find your way in the dark?” Genji begins to say something but cuts himself off when Zenyatta continues. “Or perhaps it would be safer for you to spend the night?”

“Well, well…” he leers, and then, “Hey! Safer? I’ll have you know that you’re the one who’d be safer if I spent the night!”

“Be that as it may, I will prepare a place for you to sleep, then,” Zenyatta laughs, and again at Genji’s exaggerated pout when he realises that this place won’t be Zenyatta’s bed.

He quickly gathers bedclothes and extra sweatpants for his guest, forgoing a shirt as none will fit. He keeps a mattress inside the storage compartment of one of the wooden couches, and easily sets it up with the linen and pillow and duvet on the living room floor. Genji shamelessly changes right there in the living room, but Zenyatta only laughs. His enthusiasm certainly is charming.

“Good night, Genji,” he says at the door, smiling down at the man wrapped up before the fireplace.

“Night, Zen,” Genji murmurs. The door closes softly between them, and Zenyatta meets the eyes of the little jade fox figurine on his dresser.

It doesn’t move, of course. It is only jade. But it still reassures him that the night will pass peacefully.

—————

“I swear I heard a scream in the night,” Genji says at breakfast. He’s certainly putting away cheese toast like he’s unbothered by it.

“It might have been a deer or a fox. Their calls can sound eerie if you haven’t heard them before.”

“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was a ghost.” Genji grins at him, and Zenyatta can’t help but laugh.

After breakfast, they go for a walk around the little island, Genji making faces at the sour lingonberries and threatening to throw Zenyatta into the sea when he laughs at him. They get back just in time for Zenyatta to hear the Lindholm’s outboard engine start up.

Genji loses some of his good humor as he helps Zenyatta fill two baskets with jars of apple jam from the root cellar, and plops down into the hammock as Brigitte berths.

By the time Zenyatta has helped her fasten the skiff and asked how her family is doing, Genji is on his phone, playing some game by the sound of it. Brigitte startles when she spots him.

“Brigitte, this is Genji.”

“Oh, um. Hello!”

Zenyatta can practically see the cogs turning in her head, how there’s only Zenyatta’s little boat at the dock beside her family’s skiff, how any visitor reasonably would have to pass by the grocery and mechanic shop her family runs, but this man definitely hasn’t – at least one of the many Lindholm children would have noticed a boat coming or going, and they surely would have made a ruckus.

Genji doesn’t even bother to look up from his phone when he says, “yo.”

She shoots Zenyatta a curious look, to which he can only shrug. He honestly still isn’t sure how Genji got here, either.

“Well, I won’t intrude too long,” she says, easily picking up the two baskets full of apple jam, heavy though they are.

“Good,” Genji mutters, loud enough to be heard. Zenyatta stiffens.

“Be safe, Brigitte. And let Ingrid know that the roses she gave me seem to be coming along wonderfully,” Zenyatta says, louder than intended, as he accompanies her to the dock, keeping the skiff steady as she gets on with her cargo. Brigitte gives him a sympathetic smile and a cheery tack! before she cranks the outboard engine awake on the second pull and expertly navigates the little boat back to the larger island.

It takes some doing to irritate Zenyatta, but even he has his limits.

“Finally,” Genji grumbles.

“That was unnecessary.”

“Her visiting? Yeah.”

“Your rudeness.”

At this Genji deigns to look up from his phone, clearly startled. Zenyatta takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly.

“Do as you please, I suppose.” Zenyatta puts his sunhat back on. Trimming the beautiful roses Brigitte’s mother so kindly shared with him earlier this year sounds like an excellent activity to focus the mind and calm it down.

Zenyatta is almost embarrassed at his outburst. While Genji certainly has acted a bit spoiled, Zenyatta still feels somewhat betrayed. He’s known Brigitte for three years, for goodness sake, and Genji for mere hours. Why would he act like this? As though he is entitled to all of Zenyatta’s time and attention. Bizarre.

He busies himself with checking over the vibrantly pink roses climbing the lattice by the kitchen window, childishly ignoring Genji while his temper is still simmering. There is no need to react when he’s like this. He will calm down and they will discuss what happened. In a while.

He loses himself in gardening, finding almost meditative calm in the work, until a strange shadow passes over his flowers, breaking his concentration. He looks up to find Genji on the roof, for some reason. Once he notices Zenyatta’s eyes on him he easily jumps down, landing heavily but rising unharmed.

“I, uh. I fixed the shingles. Some of them looked like they were about to fall off.”

He’s rubbing the back of his neck, head bowed and eyes elusive. Zenyatta politely doesn’t mention the abnormally deep grooves Genji left when he jumped down.

“Thank you, that was very kind.”

“I’m sorry,” he bursts out, looking like it confuses him a little bit to say it.

“You do not need to repay me, not for the food nor the bed, and while I appreciate the apology, I am not the one who was slighted,” Zenyatta says, meaningfully.

“I know,” Genji grumbles, but he’s fighting a smile. Like a puppy, he’s excited to get approval.

“But, if you’re bored, you can always help tend the strawberries.”

“Sure! What do I do?”

—————

“Why don’t you just buy food? This seems like a lot of work,” Genji interrupts as Zenyatta is explaining how to recognise a weed. Not rudely, per se, more out of genuine interest in the answer.

“It is rewarding work. And besides, someone has to do it somewhere.”

“Doesn’t have to be you,” Genji shrugs. Zenyatta gets the sense that whoever Genji is, or was, many things have been handed to him on a silver platter.

“I enjoy the work. It is strenuous at times, but helping something grow? That is a wonderful thing.” Zenyatta is happy to explain. Genji looks thoughtful, and pays close attention to the rest of Zenyatta’s instructions.

There is something deeply endearing about Genji’s intense concentration as he shuffles around in the dirt, muttering the name of each plant and weed to himself as he checks one and removes the other. Zenyatta can’t help but smile as he watches Genji nurture, in slightly too small dungarees that Zenyatta isn’t even sure where he got. Maybe Ingrid? They look almost comedic with how short in the legs they are, and they stretch to a worrying degree over Genji’s thighs. Yes, quite the tight fit…

Genji swears loud and sudden, slapping at a mosquito, and Zenyatta rips his gaze from his houseguest’s shapely behind before he’s caught looking.

“Man, that bug would have regretted everything if it had gotten any of my blood,” Genji laughs, turning his head to grin up at Zenyatta. Zenyatta makes a split second decision.

“Why?” he asks.

Genji blinks up at him, opening his mouth, then closing it again. Zenyatta looks back at him evenly.

When no words seem immediately forthcoming, he raises an eyebrow.

“What gave me away?” Genji asks, and Zenyatta has to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing at him.

“You literally just implied– oh, Genji,” he does laugh a little, he can’t help it. Genji looks so put out by Zenyatta having figured him out, even a little bit. “You show up out of nowhere, at a very unlikely location, eat like a horse–”

“Hey!”

“–and expect me not to figure out that something is going on?”

“In my defense, most people don’t even want to consider the possibility of… supernatural things.” Genji flaps a hand, indicating said supernatural things.

“You’re not wrong,” Zenyatta allows. Genji gets to his feet, clasps his hands, unclasps them, goes to put them into his pockets before realising it’s too tight a fit, instead leaving his hands to rest limp on his thighs. The very picture of nervousness.

“I don’t mind,” Zenyatta continues belatedly. “That you are… whatever you are.”

“You don’t even know what, exactly, I am. I’m, Zen, I’m not… a good creature.”

“Arbitrary.” Zenyatta surprises both of them with the sharp word. “Good is an act, not a state of being. You have done nothing but good things here.”

“But I…”

“Even humans have spats from time to time. It is how you react to the disagreement that truly defines you.” Zenyatta softens. “You apologised. That says more about your character than your classification does.”

A beat passes.

“You’re right.” Genji nods to himself, then again, more determined. “Hey, Zen. Wanna see something cool?”

Zenyatta makes a gesture as if to say, the floor is yours, and Genji grins, boyish and excited to show off.

Then he flicks his pants open, and drops them.

Before Zenyatta can react to that, Genji’s now boxer and t-shirt clad frame starts to change. His already muscular form grows even more imposing, fabric stretching to the point of near tearing, and his skin darkens to a mild greyish color, decorated by red markings. Horns in that same dull red sprout from his forehead, and his teeth lengthen to fangs. He grows at least thirty centimetres taller.

Transformation complete, he cracks his neck, practically oozing self-confidence.

“Like what you see?” he asks, flirtation even more evident than previously.

Zenyatta looks him over. He does like what he sees. And now that he knows what Genji is – an oni, unless he’s forgotten everything his mother ever taught him – well, is there any harm in indulging?

Genji leans in, towering over Zenyatta in this form, grin decidedly shit eating.

“Well?”

Zenyatta hums, contemplative, before smiling back.

“Well, show me what you’ve got.”

—————

Zenyatta sits up properly and stretches with a groan. He certainly tries to stay active and fit, but during the cold winter months his options are limited and some of his musculature tends to slip. It is always a bit of work to build it up again in the warmer months. But he seems to have managed adequately this year.

Genji is breathing heavy, face turned to the side as he’s on his front. The pillow is torn, likely thanks to Genji’s fangs and claws. Zenyatta lets the purple bruises littering that grey tinted neck and shoulders soothe any irritation he may have felt at that.

As he rises, suddenly starving, the oni whines pathetically, rubbing his face against what remains of the ripped pillow.

“Zenya, I can’t get up.” Zenyatta laughs at him and finds his underwear. Perseverance in the face of opposition is a virtue.

The fire in the stove is only embers, but they rekindle easily enough under Zenyatta’s ministrations. Zenyatta is chopping vegetables for an omelet when Genji staggers into the kitchen, gloriously naked.

“You’re a demon,” he groans in greeting, rubbing his face and electing to lean against the kitchen table rather than sit down on a chair. His words have no bite, rather the opposite, a wonderment and admiration reflected in his gaze when he removes his hand.

“You’re realising this only now?” Zenyatta teases, waving the wooden hilt of his knife at Genji, showing off yet another fox carving.

Genji blinks at it. Then blinks again, twice, in rapid succession. Zenyatta laughs, delighted.

“Oh! You hadn’t!”

“You–!” Genji gapes at him like a fish, and he’s still attractive. Then he throws his head back in a laugh. “Oh, I really should have, shouldn’t I, trickster?”

Zenyatta only grins, sharp and vulpine.

———————————————

[AO3, Ko-fi]

[cravingcrazewriting]

Secret admirers seemed too cliche to actually be a thing. Or at least, that’s what Evan used to think.

It was the typical formula of High School romances in dumb, romance films trying to be hip or cool. It was just too good to be true in real life.

Or well, so Evan thought.

Because he had a note sticking outside his locker, which just said “Dear E, You look really cute today.”

And it was February, ironically, which was the most romantic month of the year, or at least Evan thought. He was a hopeless romantic who just wanted some affection.

But not like this. He would’ve preferred to just be told upfront, because he would take what he could get at this rate, especially after realizing his fixation with being with Zoe was just loving the idea of someone like her, and not actually her, so he was still hurt by that, despite the fact that she didn’t even do anything to him. He thought he wouldn’t ever have a chance at romance again,

Well, until that little note.

Evan felt a twinge of doubt reside deep inside himself, and he tried to convince himself that it was meant for him, because he didn’t know anyone that had a locker by his with the initial E. For once, he just wanted to take something like this and enjoy it, instead of freaking out, having a panic attack for no reason whatsoever, or letting his insecurities get the best of him.

So, he tucked the little note in his pocket, and decided to let it be, despite his mind screaming that it wasn’t meant for him, and left for his next class.

~*~

It really shouldn’t have surprised him to see another letter fly out of his locker.

Evan hoped he was mentally prepared for it, but no, he wasn’t, because he had to fumble around for the half sheet of paper, while Jared treaded closer and closer to him, so that was inconvenient, because he wanted to read the little note, but nope, it had to be Jared, and his fucking car insurance, just like usual.

“Hansen!” Jared called, and Evan hated how harshly he crumpled the letter into his palm, and down inside his back pocket. “What’s up? We haven’t talked in a while.”

Really? Did he have to do this now? “Oh, I-I’ve been fine. Normal, boring life, you know?”

Jared gave him a look that said “Are we really going to do this?”. “I saw that letter in your locker. Spill.”

Of course he did. That was just his luck. “I don’t know, Jared, I just got it.”

“I can’t believe it! Someone’s writing to you, Evan Hansen! Aren’t you like, most likely to be forgotten?” Jared barked out a laugh.

He tried not to let that comment hurt because he’d heard it a thousand times before, but it still did. He looked away, choosing to ignore it. “I’m… going to class.”

“Buzzkill,” he joked, but made no effort to stop him. “Hey, tell your mom I was nice to you so my parents will pay my car insurance, alright?”

Evan didn’t answer him, knowing it would’ve been preferred.

~*~

It was different every day.

“You hunch in on yourself to try and hide. Don’t. I see you. You’re beautiful.”

“I don’t understand how a stutter is cute, but yours is. Sorry, that’s probably annoying to hear.”

“I hate seeing you cry. Reminds me of how ugly the world is (not saying you’re ugly).”

It was nice. Too nice, so where as it was hard for Evan to believe it was all meant for him. How was it all meant for him? Who could dedicate all this time into just him?

So, feeling a need to do something in return for them, he left a small thank you letter, saying how he appreciated all the stuff they said about him, and that they really brightened his day.

But Evan really hadn’t anticipated a response.

“Dear E,

I’m glad my letters make you happy. It’s nice to know I’m doing one good thing in life. I won’t tell you who I am, but if you’re as lonely as you say you are in your letter, text me sometime? (xxx)-xxx-xxxx”

Normally Evan wouldn’t accept things like this, but curiosity be damned, he wanted to try and get closer to Secret Admirer, and hopefully figure out who they were.

Evan: Since you’re not going to tell me who you are, can you tell me what to call you?

Unknown: call me… C?

Evan made a mental note to change the contact to that.

Evan: I c you

C: ha

C: leave the puns to the professional.

Evan: ):<

Evan: Rude.

Evan: Why don’t you use my name in your letters?

C: it felt impersonal. I know you, but I don’t know you, like in real life.

C: if that makes sense.

Evan: Ah. That makes sense.

Evan: Well now you can use my name. Since we’re talking now.

C: suppose you’ve got a point there lol

And they sort of just kept going on from there. C didn’t like to talk about his home life, and was persistent in learning more about him in general. He seemed thrilled with every new little thing he learnt about him, and would tell non specific stories around every topic.

C: did you ever go to autumn smiles apple orchard??? The had THE BEST apples

C: me and my sis would roll down the hills there. They were super big.

C: and one time my dad brought a remote controlled plane. He accidentally sunk it into the lake there though

Evan: Aw that sucks. Did he apologize?

C: old man never was good with words. He just said “sorry kids, we’ll get a new one”. Like, that was my favorite toy?? You fucker??

Evan: Are you… still holding a grudge?

C: one does not simply forgive their dad after he fucks up so badly.

C was incredibly passionate about protecting rights and nature, and would send Evan long paragraphs at random, most often in the middle of the night.

Was it possible to be crushing on someone Evan didn’t know? Actually, scratch that, he did know C, just not in real life. Like an online relationship, just without the distance.

C: hey, Valentine’s Day is coming up. Wanna be my valentine?

Evan didn’t think he was serious at first, because he was a secret admirer, and his identity was going to remain a secret no matter what, but what would it hurt? Maybe C would leave him a lollipop or something.

Evan: Sure! You’re probably the only person who’d ask heh.

But on that Friday, Valentines Day, he wasn’t expecting to see Connor Murphy waiting beside his locker, a white teddy bear in his arms, as he wore a dark purple sweater with his usual skinny jeans and combat boots. For once, he seemed to put effort into his appearance, because his hair seemed to be detangled and fluffed, showing off a nose piercing, along with a few others on his ears.

Evan hadn’t overdressed that day. He just wanted to wear a light pink short sleeved button up he’d been saving for a special occasion, with loose ended jeans, and his uggs that clashed horribly with the outfit all together. It was a complete disaster, Evan was painfully aware of this, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Hey Ev, it’s me…” Connor smiled at him, fiddling with the teddy bear. “Now you can finally ‘C’ me,” he joked lamely.

Evan couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. Connor’s was too infectious. “Is that— a c-callback to when we first met?”

“Obviously,” the latter chuckled, handing over the teddy bear. Apron further inspection, it was holding a little heart that said “You’re too much to bear!”.

“Can I— can I hug you?” Evan asked sheepishly, holding the stuffed animal close.

Connor opened his arms up, seemingly all too willingly. “Come on in.”

As Evan wrapped his arms around him, he briefly thought about all the rumors that were spread about this guy. He threw a printer at his teacher, Mrs. G, in second grade, he was bullied, he supposedly did drugs and got kicked out of a private school, and he showed up to school high. Then again, Connor showed a completely different persona from behind the letters and texts he received up until that very day. He had a sneaking suspicion that his classmates were wrong about him.

“Can I walk you to class?” Connor asked softly. “And take you to The Orchard tonight?”

“One thousand percent yes,” Evan whispered back, holding onto him tonight.

Once the two separated, Evan gently set the little bear inside his locker, and let Connor walk him to his first class period of the day. They ate lunch together, held hands, and talked. He wasn’t sure what they were, but that didn’t matter.

So what if secret admirers were cliche? Evan’s made him more happy than ever.

[nairil-daeris]

Holly Hell

continuation to my fanfiction that you can read here https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12280276/1/Holy-Hell

I need to thank to amazing and absolutely incredible the-foxes-fangs for beta

I was also heavily inspired by otohe’s story. As they say, really good art inspires others to do their own.

............................................

Annoying.

“It’s all absolutely annoying“ Neji decided while sitting under his favourite tree in heaven‘s orchard.

The sun was slowly setting on the horizon and birds were chirping their evening songs. The peaceful atmosphere invited him to relax and have a nice session of meditation.

Or not.

Where was his favourite moment of concentration without any necessary thoughts?

In hell apparently.

He had decided to forget his little experience with the she-devil as the unimportant incident it was.

But it was not to be. Tenten seemed to remain on the angel’s mind that evening and the many that followed. It was upsetting, to say the least.

Neji decided that he hated the little demon. She drove him crazy even after so many days. The memory of the challenge in her gaze alone was enough to make his blood boil. With rage of course.

Which was one of the many reasons that the existence of this… dream was more than a little irksome. It implied that there was something beneath that hatred, which just simply couldn’t be true.

The Dream, as Neji called it, came just when he thought he had banished all thought of her.

Even if he wanted to recall the curves of her body, or the fullness of her lips– which he didn’t – he certainly wouldn’t. She was disgusting, filthy demon trash. A mere plebe and a tramp compared to him and his status as an angel.

It didn’t matter how much the thought of dominating her appealed to him in his dream

– how much he’d love to pin her down and force her into submission, make her squeal and moan while he told her of the myriad annoyances, she had given him, for which she must now be punished.

He had become so obsessed about the demon, that he was hallucinating about her right now.

She was standing in the clearing before him, hand on one hip cocking her head at him with a too-glib smile. The fact that he found her attractive was ridiculous.

“I didn’t expect you would be here again.” He said to his imagination.

“And whom did you expect?”

“Not you.”

“I’m hurt.”

Wait. Fantasies weren’t supposed to talk back. They weren’t supposed to talk at all!

It took several seconds before reality dawned on him.

“How dare you! How did you even get here without me noticing!?”

“I got here without you noticing the first time as well.” She said and shrugged.

That was quite a blow to his ego. And it made him furious.

“Go back to the depths of the hell that you came from, you pitiful creature!” Neji roared.

But there was no answer. The she-devil was watching him thoughtfully.

“No.” She said finally, staring him down, “I don’t think I will.”

“And why not?” The words escaped him through gritted teeth. His gaze fell on her slightly exposed cleavage and he tore his eyes away before his thoughts could run away with him.

 “Because you want me to. And I enjoy irritating you, angel.”

He pictured himself kissing her like he did last time. He couldn’t help it. It was … irritating indeed. Thinking of the swell of her bottom lip was one thing. Thinking of how much more swollen he could make it with his teeth and his mouth was another thing altogether.

He was paralyzed by contradictory desires, both to kiss her and throw her out of his sight. So he chose to converse instead and see where it took him.

“So you do.” He replied carefully.

“I’d almost dare say that you feel the same way.”

“No, I can’t say that I enjoy it when you irritate me. I know this must come as a great shock–”

“But you do enjoy irritating me, if our last encounter is anything to go by. But you’re absolutely dreadful at it right now.”

Now, she had gone too far. Neji stood in one fluid motion, rage winning out for now if only to cover up reality. The sight of Tenten’s smug, self-satisfied face had exhausted his patience.

”Why are you here, you vixen?“

“I want what I came for before, the apples.”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, sneer appropriately fixed on his face before he even bothered to open his mouth. “Yes? Didn’t I teach you a lesson?”

But something felt off. As though he were disappointed that she wasn’t there because of him specifically. For no other reason than to torment him.

Which apparently would be a good prospect now? What on earth was the matter with him?

“Oh? Were you expecting another fucking? Not gonna happen!” The she-devil said in a mocking sing-song voice.

Bratty minx! He was going to show her that fucking was definitely not on his mind when he sent her right down from heaven’s clouds. Literally.

The darkness descended.. Oh, the old trick won’t work twice on me, thought the angel.

“I don’t suppose you enjoy being left in the dark.” He could hear her mocking. 

“That’s a shame...for you.” A part of him couldn’t believe he was wasting his time on her. The other part… he refused to acknowledge.

It was easy to locate her position now when she spoke. One good flaming arrow was enough to interrupt her dirty spell.

“Because I do so enjoy annoying you, as you said yourself” Neji continued.

The two of them stared at each other now, sizing each other up. 

 “Do you? You’re so cruel. Am I that bad to look at? Am I unnerving you?” She answered while making seductive pose. 

Bold, bratty, and annoying. It would have been so delightfully easy to shut her up with a kiss, searing enough to make even that she-devil melt. He knew he could do that now. It would be even easier with his cock between her lips, but that was…  dangerous territory. How…unsettling. He hardly even recognized himself anymore.

A staring contest wasn’t a good idea. 

He caught himself staring at Tenten’s mouth and righted his gaze, doing his best to look as bored as possible. As bored as he truly didn’t feel at all.

 Tenten used his moment of absent-mindedness to bolt behind the trees.

Off he went after her. 

Ugh she is fast, that little shrew, Neji thought. How irritating.

By the time he caught up with her she was already holding an apple in her hand.

“That’s as far as you got the last time” he said with a smirk “you’re not going to get any further now.”

He expected her to put the apple into her bag but to the angel’s surprise she bit into it instead.

Just like that. In front of him. Such audacity! And while wearing such a smug grin, munching on the apple, like she had won first prize in a lottery.

But her smile changed. It crumpled into a grimace as Tenten started coughing.

That’s curious, thought Neji as he stopped through drawing his flaming sword.

The she-devil landed on all fours, coughing and sputtering violently. 

The angel just stood there, unsure how to react. Had his prey suddenly turned into a victim?

That was … troubling. Confusing.

Downright alarming, the more he saw her writhing in pain.

He wanted her writhing, but beneath him with pleasure, not like…this.

Gingerly he came closer, anticipating another of her tricks, only to see that her distress was genuine. This was his second time seeing Tenten with an unguarded expression, but this time he wasn’t enjoying it a bit. 

At last she went still, her consciousness leaving her. Neji checked her pulse, she was alive but passed out. 

As he bent down toward the little devil, he felt powerless in more ways than one. Neji had no idea why the perfect apple from heavens orchard had caused her so much pain. He blamed himself for having let this happen at all. It was his job to protect the garden from creatures like her anyway, but he had let his cravings get in the way.

And now he felt completely thrown off. How vexing. Not that he could fault her, but– still. He’d very much like to fault her. Agony of bliss suited her much better that this. He wanted to help her, he realized.

But how? 

”Angel wantssss to help hissss little friend?”

The Snake. Neji had almost forgotten that he wasn’t the only inhabitant of Heaven’s Garden.

„She is not my friend!“ He said with a glare at the Snake.

„Sssory than, a lover perhapsssss?“ Now if only there was some hole he could crawl into, because the Snake was, in fact, right.

Neji decided to swallow his pride and ask, „Do you know what happened to her?“

„Well of coursssse I do.“ Snake answered a little moodily.

„Than do tell me!“ The angel shouted.

The serpent’s eyes narrowed in pleasure and he stalled for a few more excruciating moments before answering: “She issss a creature of darknesss, she belongsss to Hell.”

“And here I was, hoping you would tell me something I don’t already know” Neji sights.

Not bothered by his interruption, the Snake continued “All of usss supernatural beingsss have delicate balance of power in our bodiesss. But now she hasss heavens essence inside her organsss and itsss slowly but surely killing her. Her balance isss disrupted.”

She is really dying, Neji thought. And he felt … remorse. It would be a pity to never see that smug smile again, he realized.

“Isn’t there any way to help?” He asked, internally cringing at how miserable his voice sounded.

“Well there isss and an easssy one no lesss.” Snake hisses.

Neji waited for him to continue but it looked like that was it. A new emotion rose within his chest and he was surprised at how utterly livid he felt. Now he knew there was hope. He was going to set things right.

“I have no idea why you are even allowed to stay in this holy garden! You, disgusting serpent, tell me how to cure her or I’ll make sure you are thrown out of this place for good!”

“Yesss, I can help, that being sssaid, I will be asssking for sssomething in return, I hope you realize.”

The problem was, that Neji couldn’t just kill the serpent on the spot or torture him no matter how delightful that might be. The Snake was under direct protection of God himself, only God knows why.

“How can you help her and what can you possibly want?” Neji asked apprehensively. 

“You sssee, I can bite her.” 

“What the hell?”

“Yesss, Hell that’sss exactly where I came from, therefore I’m filled with it’sss esssence…. My poissson won’t affect her and it restoresss the balance within her. But my help comesss with a price.”

“Out with it, you slug.”

“Don’t call me namesss, lassst time I checked you needed me to sssolve this little situation with your darling over here. I’d hate to caussse any problemsss in your budding relationssship,” Snake said sounding awfully insincere. 

Hmpf, and what a relationship it is, the angel though while trying to look as scornful as possible.

“Luckily for you I can be sssatisfied with a little.” Neji can almost see him sneer “You’ll be owing me a favour, nothing more. A good bargain if I sssay ssso myself.”

There really wasn’t much Neji could do other than accept. He nodded. 

Delightful,” the Snake hissed, and bit Tenten’s pale arm. “Ssshe needs to ressst now.” He added before slithering away.

The She-devil lay there on the cold ground, as cold as death herself. Neji’s stomach clenched at the sight. It made him angry…at her…not at himself, that he was so utterly invested in her well-being. Neji tried not to look too closely at why in the first place. 

He wanted to tell her how it was all her fault, but it seemed unfair, since she was still unconscious. There would be plenty of time to school her on how not to behave later.

He picked her body up and charged to his garden house, impatience to keep her safe winning out over courtesy.

He was almost certain he’d regret it, but... Apparently her idiocy was catching.

It was a strange feeling, with the devil collapsed in his arms. He felt protective of her even though she was enemy not long ego. She is his enemy still, he chided himself.

Fortunately, she seemed a lot warmer by the time he laid her on his bed to rest. 

 “Not even going to change? Take your shoes off?” he joked, knowing full well she couldn’t hear him in her sleep.

She looked … good like this, on his bed, he decided. 

And since there was nothing to do other than wait, he laid next to her to rest as well. His bed was more than big enough, after all, for the both of them, with plenty of room to spare in between.

It was, however, rather nice to wake up next to her some time later. Next to a demon. How low had he sunk?

He crouched over her to check her temperature, only to be met with a small but definitely hard fist. 

They were both out of bed in seconds.

“Aww and you looked so comfy in my pillows, I thought you liked it there.” Neji said with a smirk. He was just riling her up. But– he had absolutely no interest in looking at why he wanted to rile her up so much in the first place.

“You perverted kinky angel, you wanted to take advantage of me! You took me to this…this”, Tenten looked over his Hellenistic style chambers “….lair of yours!” she snarled at him.

And now he regretted it, he thought as he rubbed his temples.

“Well thank you, would be more appropriate, considering I saved your life and all. I owe a favour to the garden’s Snake, too. But what could I expect from ill-bred low life like you.” Neji fired back.

“I have no idea how I got here, but I’m definitely not going to thank you for all those insults. Although coming from an idiot like you, I guess I don’t need to be offended!”

“Yes,” 

He said slowly, taking a step toward Tenten and utterly delighting in the sight of her immediate retreat. “I daresay I just might be, seeing as I have spent the last several hours completely–” Another step. “– and utterly wasting my time on your well-being, which–” Step. “– would be bad enough already, but then I’m forced to take ingratitude from you, filthy witch, which would have already been more than bad enough–” His last long stride is enough to have her backed into the wall, Neji growling his words through his teeth, eyes flashing furiously. “Only to learn that it was an entirely stupid idea?!” He said, grasping her arm firmly.

She didn’t say anything at first. He wondered at his disappointment about that.

 “You were worried about me.”

He wasn’t sure which was more infuriating– how absolutely certain and sure she was, or the way she let her gaze fall to his lips after saying it.

And how he couldn’t help but allow his own to follow.

“It seems I was wrong,” he says, the words leaving him achingly slowly through clenched teeth. It was almost distracting how good she smelled. Of pepper. It brought unwanted memories. It should have been a warning– he was too close. “Between the two of us, it would seem that I am not the greater idiot after all.”

“You’re worried about me,” Tenten said again. It was just as infuriating to hear as the first time, as it turned out. “And right now…” she licked her lips, drawing his gaze for a split second too long, “… you want to kiss me.”

She looked good like this, he decided for the second time, wide eyed from fear or thrill. He wished it were easier to resent her for that instead of himself.

It was as though she’d seeped into his skin, planted a seed and watched it fester. He pictured her lips kiss-swollen, and tried to decide if it would be worth it to prove her right if it meant getting to push her into the wall and leave her breathless and wanting.

“But that’s not going to happen.” she said with a smirk, using his moment of distraction to free herself from his grasp. 

The she-devil leapt on the top of his of bed’s canopy with a laugh, a bright and happy sound that stirred something in his chest. It was … uncomfortable. Not entirely terrible, though. He’d rather not look too closely at that. 

“Tsk, Tsk, how easily you lose your composure around me, Mr. Angel.” She mocked him again.

“You are utterly insufferable.”

Insults. As if those could possibly restore his dignity to him now.

 “I do try.

Her smug smile was provocative enough to make his stomach churn, an undeniably… unacceptable feeling, he decides.

All right, so maybe he couldn’t refute that. How extraordinarily annoying of her.

Cheeky trollop.

“You brought all of this on yourself trying steal. I should give you a lesson, so you never try to do something that outrageous again.”

Neji frowned. she didn’t look nearly as concerned by that as she should have. If anything, she looked delighted.

How strange.

“Ooooh, noooo I’m so scared of your empty promises!” She said, and actually winked at him.

Ridiculous creature.

“It’s getting boring here. I’ll be leaving then.” The she-devil said, making a mock-bow that gave him a good view of her cleavage.

Neji forced himself not to stare. This simply wouldn’t do.

She flapped her wings, but he caught up with her by the Hellenistic-inspired arches near the marble ceiling.

They exchanged a few blows, but ultimately she was no match for him. She bolted to the stained glass window, but before she could make it there, he threw her against the huge library wall.

“You’re a completely insufferable demon–” Neji growled as he pinned her hands to the wall.

They were still in the air as Tenten tried to kick him with her free legs. He was glad that he was so much bigger than her when he pressed his body to hers to stop her from kicking and writhing out of his grasp.

She stopped kicking. But she was still writhing and his mind helpfully offered him some very suggestive ideas.

How… deeply… unsettling.

She was breathing rather heavily now, tired from her futile struggle.  It wasn’t helping.

Tenten noticed him staring and the fire building between them. The tension was palpable.

The angel tried to turn his eyes from her, his attention solidly unfocused on the books atop the shell mantle before him. His expression turned carefully blank.

He lowered them to the floor and stepped back. 

The demon was obviously beside herself with humiliation over her defeat. At least that’s what he thought until she actually threw a book at him and yelled “One single apple and you make it look like a capital crime!”

The insolent bitch.

He had her backed against a bookshelf with her hands pinned above her head in less than a heartbeat before he said “It’s not about one apple, it’s the principle I’m stressing here. You were stealing, and you don’t feel an ounce of guilt about it! Such a shameful vixen deserves to be punished.”

But his treacherous mind showed him the kind of punishment that involved kissing that defiant expression off her face. He wanted her to beg. To submit to him.

And the she-devil seemed to read his intentions. Tenten’s eyes widened, she opened her pretty mouth and yelled “You fucking perverted angel! You kink-starved deviant! You have some twisted idea of justice, you-“

“I might as well have” Neji interrupted, and when she inhaled to yell at him again, he wondered why he didn’t shut her mouth a lot earlier.

Suddenly he was kissing her. He was crushing her mouth, her loud, warm and quite intoxicating mouth. The pleasure of the feel of her had him seeking more and she was now resisting a lot less he noted smugly. 

She tried to say something but instead, he cut her off with another searing kiss, her lips parting willingly against his. The feeling of her becoming pliant against him like this was nothing short of ecstasy, bringing him deep gratification.

He took her lower lip in his teeth and slowly, slowly moved it between them. When he freed her, she whined for more, licking at the air until he found her mouth again.

He moved to the crook of her neck, biting and nipping, sucking on the skin. The action drew several moans and gasps from her before he was even somewhat satisfied. Neji wanted more. She offered him moans of pleasure and soft hisses of pain whenever he sucked too hard. He didn’t want there to be a single spot of her body left unmarked by him, but he’d settle for the few marks he has littered her with now, ones that no scarf could ever possibly cover up. He allowed his free hand to run up her body, to cup her breast and tease her nipple through the dark swimsuit– the same clothing that she wore the last time they were doing this.

“Neji–” He wasn’t sure he could ever tire of that sound– his name, half-whimper, half-submission. “Are you going to kiss me again?” “I was going to. I’d hoped to leave your lips just as bruised as your skin–” Pinning both her wrists with one hand was effortless work, the angel delighted in drawing back and allowing his fingertips to ghost over the bruise-riddled path dotting her skin. “But then you became impatient and greedy.” “What do I have to do, then?” She said, with a flirtatious tilt of her head. “Beg me.” But still, she did little more than give him a level stare.. “I believe I told you to beg.” “And if I don’t want to?” “Then you won’t be rewarded.” He caught the way the corner of her mouth quirked up. “No reward? That hardly sounds like the proper punishment for someone so impudent like me, angel.” “You should learn that I am not so gentle when provoked, she-devil.” He said, returning her level stare. “Try me,” Tenten said testing his patience. “I hope you realize that only good, obedient demons get punished in such a way as would delight them. If I’m to punish you, I can guarantee that it won’t be enjoyable for you.” “Are you trying to scare me?” “If you are the type to be scared by that, then yes.” “I’m not.” “Good.” Admittedly, he was hoping she wouldn’t be. “I will not repeat myself, Tenten.” Silence descended, heavy and pregnant between them. “… please,” she finally says, visibly swallowing. A veritable treat for his eyes.

“Please what?” “Please kiss me– punish me– I don’t really care anymore, honestly, I just want it–” 

If there was more coming, he didn’t allow her to finish her thought, not when her words lit a desire in his gut that was impossible to shake.

He was ravishing her gain after what felt like months– years– of waiting. It hadn’t been even remotely that long– even claiming weeks would be genuinely pushing it, but his desire for her had been considerable. Neji wanted to tell that brazen minx, that the fact that she was still wearing clothes was an injustice, but that would require ceasing his kissing of her, and he wasn’t sure he was physically capable of it now, not as utterly drunk as he was on the pepper taste of her. So he let his hand do the work for him, ridding her of her clothes as agonizingly slowly as possible. He didn’t stop until she was left nude. He looked her up and down. She was utterly lovely like this, with a flush colouring her cheeks. Trailing a path up to her hip, Neji allowed the tips of his fingers to explore her body, pausing only with the discovery of her folds. Parting her with few fingers, he drew his thumb up to her clit and waited  for another inhale, another gasp or another moan– anything to sustain him a little longer, to hold off and spur on his desire all at once. It came  alongside the buckling of her knees, the sweetest moan leaving her parted lips before he could capture them again, sliding his knee between her legs to both hold her up and offer friction.

The demon took his offering as the gift that it was, and let herself rut against his thigh, eager hips seeking out his thumb over and over. He had done this before, of course, but it hadn’t felt quite like this, as though the stakes were so high. He wondered why, and slid two fingers inside of her only to find her wet and wanting.

Smiling at the sensation, Neji leaned closer to her ear. “You lustful thing,” he teased in a whisper, knowing he was at least as wanton for her. She was close now– he could tell. It would be hard to miss. Her kisses had become less messy, finally stopping altogether, movements directed– if not by him– then by instinct alone, as she arched her body, yearning for her peak– He pulled his hand away just as his teeth found her earlobe, a loud whine escaping her at the lack of satisfaction. “That, my witch,” he whispered, lips ghosting along the shell of her ear, “is punishment.” Not a spanking. Not the myriad ways he could tie her to his bed. Nothing that could have her moaning deliciously for him.

He studied his slick hand, her juices dripping over it.

“I didn’t realize you wanted it that bad“ “Beg,” he ordered, and was met with another whimpered whine. “Please–Neji, please–” “Please what?” “P-please let me come–” “That’s better,” he purred into her ear, the reward he offered almost instantaneous. He had her back on the brink in moments, the feeling of her clenching around his fingers enough to make even him shudder at the prospect. He removed his knee from between her legs only once he was convinced that she could stand on her own again. It wasn’t surprising– the way she quivered in his grasp had him genuinely concerned for a bit. Finally satisfied that she could stand, he released her wrists. She staggered for a moment, but remained upright. Good enough.

“You seem to be holding up, but we’re only getting started. I haven’t even fucked you yet. 

Now. On the bed – don’t make me wait.” he commanded.

He could see how her gaze cleared and watched her eyes get their defiant glint again.

“You-“ she started to protest, but was cut off when he unceremoniously dropped her onto the bed on her knees.

She squealed, taken by surprise, and before she could recover, he landed a smack on her ass before his fingers sought out her cunt to slide inside once more. 

It was enough stimulation that her body gave way to another moan. He pumped his fingers and curled them inside of her almost lazily as her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her. She felt nailed down to the bed, unable to move, only concentrating on the pleasure he was giving her.

He withdrew and grabbed her opposite leg, effectively flipping her onto her back in the process. Neji renewed his assault on her pussy, pumping his fingers rhythmically. “Look at you,” he drawls, feeling very smug. “You’re a mess.” She just mewled and gasped for air.

“You can’t even speak. Heh…” 

He gripped her jaw and moved her face until their eyes were locked.

“You’re shaking,” he said, fingers pressing into her clit now and moving just enough to draw a whine from her, “Mm, cute. What a face…now you’re getting me excited.”

The angel leaned in for another kiss, hard and hot and just as intense as all the rest had been. She wrapped her legs around his waist without even so much as a comment, grasping hold of his cock between their bodies before he caught hold of her wrist and pulled it back with a chiding look. “Eager, are we?” “I want to feel you; I can’t help it.” she managed. “Demanding…You sound so good when you beg for me.” He muttered, glancing down at her. He pulled back seemingly just to undo his robe and rid himself of his undergarments, but it was for far more than that: It allowed him an excuse to look at her, to drink in the sight of the stunning body he was about to ravish, properly.

Then again, she seemed to be doing the same thing, judging by the way she was staring at his cock and licking her lips. Not that he didn’t want to know what it felt like to have her mouth wrapped around him, but– Right now, he had greater priorities. “Do you want it?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious. He still thought of himself as a gentleman somehow. “Yes.” His hands found her wrists once more, and left him marvelling for a moment. “You must be a considerable idiot to want to sleep with the enemy.” “That makes two of us.” He didn’t keep her waiting anymore after that, instead recapturing her lips. His tongue teased  at the seam of them until she granted him entry, and he offered a reluctant freedom to one of her wrists to position himself at her entrance. She ran her newly-freed hand through his silky hair to pull him down into another kiss. He thrust into her– not all at once, but slowly at first, until she moaned and tightened her grip on his hair, the heels of her feet pressing into his ass to urge him on and deeper, and he knew  he didn’t need to hold back.

Still, there was no harm in making her wait for the rest of him. Especially not when she was being so delightfully needy.

„That’s right, ah, do you want to take me even deeper?” “Please?” “You’ll have to be more convincing than that, Tenten.” “Of course I want it, you idiot. Will you please just–” Her words dissolved into a moan as he cut her off with a thrust into her tight, wet heat. “I’m not going to be gentle” he warned her again, and started to thrust, hard, holding her legs open with his free hand perched just beneath the inside of her knee. She looked delicious like this, a wanton, mewling mess of a thing, wet and barely intelligible at all. Then again, even he was struggling to keep his cool entirely. He knew he was flushed, knew that she has him riled up to a point that no others are ever privy to seeing, and, what was more, he had no regrets. How… incredible. “Ne– ji-”

Every syllable of his name that came from her luscious lips was met with a thrust of his hips, pressing her harder and harder.

‘What a pretty sound ….let’s hear more of that, shall we? You sound just right when you scream my name.” He released her other wrist, the angel guiding it to hold her knee up and keep her obediently open for him while the other was tangled desperately in the sheets beneath her. It was all in the name of a good cause, of course. He needed his free hand to touch her again, to bring her to another climax. As if he could ever be satisfied with only one orgasm from her. “Will you come for me again, demon? Or must I wait forever for the feeling of your release around my cock?” “I’ll–” She gasped, whimpered, panted. It was a breathtaking sight to behold. Tenten arched deliciously, Neji not once letting up his thrusts or his thumb’s attention on her clit. Her expression was a feast for the eyes that he wasn’t about to take for granted, not when he knew it would dissolve right before his eyes, and quickly, the very moment that she finally lost her control. She quivered. The tremors started in her feet, muscles tightening, before moving up her body in a crawl. All of her slowly drew taut. He whispered to go ahead and come just seconds before he knew she was about to, and she followed his command, perfectly obedient, clenching and throbbing around his cock as she cried out, loudly. He didn’t dare cut off her cries, but the desire to kiss her again, to reclaim her even whilst buried inside of her completely, was too strong to ignore. So he returned to the darkest welt he had left on her skin, right at the crook of her neck, hoping to make it even darker as his thrusts sped up into a barely-controlled frenzy. Her skin swallowed his own groans of release when he came, throbbing inside of her for what felt like an eternity. All bliss, all contentment. A strange feeling. She let out a fluttery sigh by the time his cock finally stilled its frenzy, and he decided that he liked the sound, annoyingly. She was playing with his hair, which would have been utterly unacceptable in anyone else’s hands, but… he’d tolerate it with her. It might even be somewhat nice. “If you do something to my hair, there will be consequences,” he told  her, and she had the audacity to laugh. He supposed he should be used to it by now.

 “Don’t get too cocky, only because it feels so good to fuck with me.” She replied dreamily.

It was … strangely comfortable, this rapport between them. Natural, even. The angel thought to his astonishment. 

There was a calm in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years, a sort of effortless weightlessness. Neji felt … content. And sleepy.

Tenten watched him thoughtfully while he dozed off in the sheets.

She had to admit, she kind of liked him. He was a good fuck, she knew that already, but he was also….something she couldn’t put her finger on. For now.

“The Snake made me eat the heaven’s apple because I owed him a favour.” She thought.  

“It was the serpent’s plan from the start wasn’t it? It’s easy to have indebted hell’s creatures, but hard to get an angel within one’s grasp. What is he going to make him do?”  

For some reason it irked her a lot. Since when did she have a conscience?

[sweetguillermo]

debrief - spideypool

After a rough night on patrol, Peter needs a hug. And Wade? He’s just happy to help. 

//

Wade knew something wasn’t quite right when Peter entered through the front door, slipping into the apartment with little more than the sound of the lock clicking back into place. Because, first of all, if there was anything Wade Wilson knew, it was that Peter Parker would avoid using doors as much as possible, if possible, and that, second of all, he was raised by his lovely aunt to always say hello, even to half-crazed immortal mercenaries.

A blur of blue and red, Peter was across the threshold and belly-down on the couch in seconds, hardly giving Wade any time to process what exactly was going on from where he stood in the kitchen. He’d been in the middle of putting together a quesadilla of epic proportions, complete with seven cheeses, three different salsas, a lovely homemade pico de gallo, and chicken prepared three ways, and had to force himself away from the glorious creation to see what was going on with his favourite spider-themed super-buddy.

Peter, flattened against the black leather of the den’s couch, didn’t even lift his head when Wade approached, his features hidden behind the Spiderman mask.  Alongside two discarded webshooters was a box of takeaway Chinese that must’ve been on the couch before Peter had come, its day-old contents seeping into the mostly clean carpet Wade had just put in. And had just had cleaned, in an effort to make the other man more comfortable when he was around- which, lately, was pretty damn often. Wade didn’t mind the mess, so used to living in it himself that he stepped over the spilled food without another thought.

“Hey, Petey-boy,” He drawled, uncertainty heavy in his voice. Peter didn’t react that time either, his body endlessly tense, curling in on itself. The taste of dread lay thick on his tongue, not used to seeing the usually-charismatic man so unresponsive. A catatonic Spidey was a sad Spidey, and Wade didn’t like it one bit. “Not that I don’t like you all folded up on my couch, but uh, everything alright?”

No answer- not verbal, not physical. Still as the dead, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“Okie dokie, uh,” Wade whistled, nudging Peter’s spandex-clad legs over a couple of inches and taking a seat. The old piece of furniture squeaked unhappily. “Not alright, I mean, I could tell- you’re a creature ‘a habit, baby boy. Never ever come in without showin’ mama a little love.”

And, if it’d been anyone else curled up on his couch, in the middle of the night, refusing to answer him or even like, look up at him (although the looking part was excusable, Wade knew he wasn’t exactly the prettiest apple in the orchard), there’d be no doubt that he’d beat the shit out of them until they showed some damn respect. But this was Peter, and Wade would do anything for Peter because honestly? Peter made him better. Without Peter around, he’d probably just go back to his old ways, killing for nothing, making money that meant nothing, being with people that made him feel nothing.

Wade had become too accustomed to somtimes feeling good to go back to that, didn’t want to resort to existing in that way ever again. He wasn’t a changed man, not completely, but Peter had him well on his way to something better, something worthy of being around someone like Peter Parker. Almost.

Unlike Peter, Wade wasn’t in his suit, opting for a more comfortable getup consisting of sweats and a pullover, and for a moment, he felt too naked, too exposed to be physically comforting the other man. But the moment passed, mostly without issue, and he brought his hand forwards to press against Peter’s thigh, the lean muscle beneath his fingertips perpetually tense. Touching Peter should’ve been weird or unwelcome or something, but for the last couple of months, Peter had been surprisingly okay with Wade’s touch, be it on patrol or during game nights or whenever, really.

They were more physical with each other than two friends should have been, Wade knew, the distance between them non-existent on most days. It had taken him a while to warm up, but Peter was a hands-on type of guy that, and if possible, would almost always have some part of his body touching Wade’s, whether through light brushes of their forearms as they ate together or with legs tangled together during movie nights. If Wade were being honest with himself, the fact that Peter not only accepted, but encouragedthe physicality made his heart soar and his brain ache.

They weren’t a thing, was the thing, and it wasn’t that Wade didn’t want them to be - God knows how far from the truth that was - but Peter had always been so against it all, right from when they’d first met. Wade hadn’t really expected anything less, his status as the famously dreadful Deadpool not exactly charming to most people, much less someone as morally-rigid as Spiderman.

Really, there weren’t many reasons Wade could come up with as to why Spiderman had spent so much time with him those first few months, why he’d revealed his face and name and personality within the year. He wasn’t complaining, wouldn’t ever complain that the most perfect mutant being on the planet hung around, but he’d be lying if he denied that it confused him relentlessly.

Yet, after a long while of further curling in on himself, Peter eventually began to lean into Wade’s touch, his joints loosening incrementally. He didn't truly move, but Wade could feel the weight of Peter’s thigh gradually increasing against his palm.

“That’s it, Pete, I’m right here,” He chattered, sliding his hand up until it cupped the sharp edge of a hip bone, “Wanna tell mean ol’ Deadpool who he’s gotta slaughter for makin’ you so sad?”

It was a joke, really, he didn’t mean it- Spidey hated when he killed people so he’d sworn the practice off (so long as it wasn’t absolutely necessary), but Peter flinched nonetheless, an almost undetectable movement that he wouldn’t have been able to notice had he not been so close.

Lowering his voice, Wade tightened his grip on Peter, something guilty and metallic ringing in his ears as he spoke. “You know I didn’t mean that, hun. Tryin’ to make you feel better, can’t stand to think that those pretty lips are pouting under that mask’a yours. Could be doing something else, I reckon, bet ya if we just-”

Peter’s abrupt and muffled-beyond-comprehension voice interrupted his ramble, quiet and hardly a whisper, but there nevertheless.

“I can’t hear you, Pete, gotta sit up, maybe take that mask off or somethin’, you’re mumbling and gagging yourself on the couch isn’t helping. But y’know, if you want a gag that’ll really do ya some good I’ve got a couple of things we could use in the bedroom, if you catch my drift?”

Relief swept along Wade’s spine as Peter moved ever so slightly, head turning just enough so that his masked face became visible.

Scratchy and wet, Peter’s voice cut through the dim room like a dagger. “Whole dorm full of kids went up in flames.” He paused, dragged his head against the couch’s arm to hike up the mask just enough to free his lips. “Couldn’t save them all.”

And- oh, did the anguish in Peter’s tone strike a chord deep in Wade’s psyche, bringing memories of young children he didn’t get to in time, couldn’t protect, hadn't saved into his field of vision. Years on a job where saving people wasn’t the priority had taught him to cope with the loss and get over it, but kids had always been different, more difficult. He couldn’t remember most of their names or even their faces, and yet the pain throbbed on anyways.

“I’m so sorry, Pete.” Wade murmured, abandoning his uncertainties to reach over and grab at Peter’s inward shoulders. With little effort he pulled the other man up and against his chest, gathering his limbs tightly in his arms. He didn’t risk saying anything else- Wade hadn’t always been the smartest when it came to talking but he knew that nothing else he could say would be beneficial to Peter. This wasn’t the first time Peter had fallen into despair after an unfortunate time as his alter ego, nor would it be the last. Spider-man, in Wade’s opinion, was the best superhero this earth had to offer, strict morals and arachnoid mutation and all, but his coping skills were dismal- the result of an overly compassionate heart. Peter wanted to rescue every soul that needed it, regardless of how impossible that was.

All Wade could offer was company, and that was alright. For Peter, he’d do just about anything, even if it meant silencing his infamously abhorrent mouth.

Some time passed without much movement from either man, the digital clock flashing on Wade’s cable box counting as the hours went by in near-total silence. The only thing interrupting their mute bubble were the faraway sounds of the city below, cars accelerating and voices rising because there never really was a minute in New York where something wasn’t happening.

At some point, Peter’s mask had come all the way off, Wade gently tugging the offending fabric off of the younger man’s head and tossing it behind the couch. Of course, Peter had let him do it, sparing him only a momentary glance before tucking his face into the junction of Wade’s neck without another thought. Skin against skin, Peter’s forehead against Wade’s exposed throat should’ve been terrifying, but all Wade could think about was making Peter feel better- and if that meant, for whatever reason, letting Peter get physical with his grotesque flesh, so be it.

It wasn’t until Peter began to shift against him, body restless and sore, that Wade made the executive decision to relocate the two of them elsewhere, if not for Peter’s comfort then for Wade’s own.

Indefinitely regenerating mercenary or not, Wade Wilson still very much got uncomfortable, and regardless of the adorable spider cuddled against him, he couldn’t sit still for that long without his back’s complaints increasing in volume.

“I’m gonna move us, alright?” He muttered into Peter’s ear as he tightening his hold on his back. Peter’s response came in the form of hands grasping the cotton of Wade’s sweater, dull fingernails ghosting against the scarred skin below with little reserve. Wade had to suppress a shiver as he carefully hoisted the other man up, needing only to support the light frame with very little effort.

Within a couple of paces, they were in Wade’s bedroom, which was really only considered a bedroom because of it’s furniture contents and not because Wade ever actually slept there or used the bed for much else other than getting off. Regardless, the mattress itself was some expensive bullshit he’d purchased in the rare case Peter ever needed to crash- something that had mostly ever happened when the other man found himself too worn down from patrol to swing himself home.

Peter didn’t react as Wade lowered their bodies down onto the bare mattress, their combined weight sinking low into the soft upper layer. “This okay?” He grumbled, maneuvering his limbs so that Peter was free from as much unwanted contact as possible.

It came as a surprise when Peter shook his head, a deft movement that made little noise, and reattached himself to Wade’s larger body, their points of contact increasing dramatically. Leave it to Peter Parker to deny a king-sized bed and all the room he could’ve dreamed of in favour of closeness with America’s ugliest bachelor.

“There, there, little spider,” Wade soothed, moving past the initial reactionary discomfort with the closeness to smooth his hands along the spider-man suit’s textured spandex. Peter, whose cheek was flush against Wade’s chest, only curled in further, his thighs slotting in between the larger’s, fingers knotted in the soft fabric of Wade’s sweater. Despite his constant innuendos and sexual prowess, not one atom in Wade’s being made any move to transition their intimate position to something beyond what it was. He was so far beyond wanting to disrespect or upset Peter in any way it sometimes scared him. Peter only seemed to move closer, press tighter, as Wade kept his hold steady.

Another beat of silence, and then; “I wish I could’ve saved them all.”

“I know.”

“They were just kids.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not fair.”

“It never is, baby boy.”

And really, that was all Peter needed- the acknowledgement, the unconditional understanding. There wasn’t anyone else in his life that could comprehend the grief like Wade could, that knew just how hopeless the losses could make someone feel. Wade didn’t push for conversation and he didn’t try to console him - he stayed and held Peter’s hand as he figured out how to cope with the casualties.

Neither were sure how long they lay together for, the dim room gradually lightening as the sun began to rise.

Peter slept briefly, his evened-out respiratory cycle putting Wade’s mind at ease. He was still too concerned to truly let himself relax, let his focus linger on the weak snoring of the younger man occupy his ever-running thoughts.

When Peter woke, the tension in his muscles had loosened considerably, slowly lifting with the crushing weight atop his shoulders. He reveled in the feeling of Wade wrapped around him, the warmth emanating from the larger man an indefinite source of relief. “Hey, Petey,” Wade whispered as the other shifted in his arms, head pulling back to get a look at Peter’s waking face. Even with his hair flattened to his head and eyes cushioned by dark bags, Peter looked gorgeous as ever as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

Popping his shoulder without slipping from Wade’s arms, Peter smiled softly, the action nearly reaching his eyes. “Better, I think. Still hurts, but-” he tilted his head to the side, peering up through dark eyelashes, “You know how it is, takes a little while, always does.”

A grin and a sly, “Nothin’ sleeping with good ol’ DP can’t fix, you know,” earned Wade a smack to the shoulder, the other man rolling his eyes in mock-annoyance. 

“You’re terrible,” Peter accused, chuckling under his breath. The barely-there sound was like music to Wade’s ears, which had been deprived of Peter’s infectious laugh for much too long.

Without so much as waiting for Wade to respond, Peter closed his eyes and brought his face forwards to press his cheek to Wade’s, smooth skin easing against rough, sighing as the older man’s breath caught.

Wade could feel Peter’s jaw move against his own as he spoke, still-gloved hands reaching up and around his exposed neck. “No one else gets it but you.” Peter mumbled simply, ignoring the fact that Wade had yet to breathe. “I can’t thank you enough, for any of this.”

And then, lacking any distinguishable warning, Peter rotated his head just enough to join their lips. There was no hesitation in the action, nothing less than urgency and need in the way Peter’s grip tightened against Wade’s shoulders as he pressed forwards and waited for the other man to kiss him back.

It took Wade a moment too long, perhaps, to get over the initial shock and return the kiss, but when he was finally able to regain control over his body, he met Peter’s desire with that of his own. Peter hummed against his mouth, the pads of his fingers dancing across uneven skin.

Despite the arousal burning in Wade’s veins, things remained chaste and slow, tongues staying put as lips stayed mostly dry. Mostly.

Peter withdrew, chestnut eyes trailing the outline of Wade’s solid body. “Thank you,” he breathed out. Exhaustion settled numbly in his bones and his throat was dry, breath most definitely stale from the hours spent unmoving, so his words were little more than a croak. He ignored whatever Wade had to say next, instead opting to mold his body back against the other man’s, returning to sleep in under a couple of minutes.

If Wade had beamed for nearly an hour after Peter had passed out, he wouldn’t have admitted it, not even to himself. And if Wade had kissed Peter senseless when he’d woken up again, it really wasn’t anyone else’s business.

[serpounce-moved]

Ship breakdown for sweet Caroline and her Joe pls

Thank you bb!!

I’m going to put some of it under a cut because it got long!!

edit: I'm sorry, I just realized how mobile messed with the format in this post :((

How did they they meet?

They met in foster care after Joseph’s second home and after Caroline’s first home. Caroline was scared and not aware of what was going on because she had been with her foster parents since she was a baby, and Joseph helped her feel safe and gave her a friend before she was sent to her next foster home. (She’s about 6 when this happens, Joseph is around 9/10).

Who developed romantic feelings first?

Definitely Joseph. Caroline was a little slow to realize how she felt for Joseph, but Joseph knew from the second time they met when they were teenagers that he loved her.

Who is their biggest “shipper?”

Their daughter Ruth. She’s in love with her parents’ love and always says that she can’t wait until she finds a boy to love her as much as Joseph loves Caroline. (She’s about seven when she tells them this).

When did they have their first kiss and under what circumstances?

Ooh okay so their first kiss happened when Caroline was 19 and Joseph was 22. He had just started working on Caroline’s adoptive parents’ orchard/farm and they were sitting out under the peach trees eating some of the fruit. Caroline had some peach juice on her lips and Joseph went to wipe it away with his thumb, but he decided to kiss it away instead.

Who confessed their feelings first?

Joseph! He basically hits her with the whole “God has told me about you, he’s shown me that you are meant for me” and Caroline, being in love with the idea of soul mates, thought that was romantic.

What was their first official date?

Joseph took her to a small Italian restaurant when he got his first paycheck from her parents. They stayed out until after one am looking at the stars from under a tree in the park.

How do they feel about double dates/group dates?

I think the only double date they’d go on would be if I put my other girls in their canon. Otherwise, I don’t see them going on any!

What do they do in their down time?

Fuck.

Okay, serious answer now! Speaking for when they’re living in Montana, when they aren’t busy with their jobs they will usually lounge together in their backyard or bedroom. Joseph works on his sermons and Caroline reads a book. They’re always cuddling in private, Caroline being a very cuddly person, always wanting to be near Joseph. They also spend time with their children, playing games and taking turns reading to them.

What was the first meeting of parents as an official couple like?

Caroline never met Joseph’s parents for canon reasons, but Joseph’s first meeting with Caroline’s adoptive parents went…alright. At first he was just looking for a job, but once Caroline’s parents found out they were together, they were a little wary of Joseph. They were scared he would cause Caroline sadness and take advantage of her, typical over-protective parents stuff. I’m still playing around with the idea that they both will eventually meet Caroline’s birth mother one day (I’m not sure just how much angst I want to include there)

What was their first fight over and how did they get past it?

Their first real fight was over their living situation. Caroline had started getting annoyed that Joseph couldn’t hold down a job and that they moved around so much while looking for John and Jacob that it was hard for Caroline to keep a job. She was tired of living in his car and having no money and she threatened to go back to her parents. They moved past it when Joseph told her that this was all part of God’s plan for them, that they had to suffer and be tested so they could make it to the new Eden that was promised to them. Caroline, believing in Joseph wholeheartedly, decided to put faith in him and continue to pray that their situation would eventually change.

Which one is more easily made jealous?

Ooh definitely Caroline! Envy is one of her greatest sins. She grew up envious of the children that were adopted before she was, envious of the way her friends had steady jobs and places to live…she becomes jealous very easily. 

What is their favourite thing to get to eat?

Because they never had much extra money (or money at all, really), they weren’t used to eating out much. Pizza was always a go-to in the beginning, but there was nothing better than Caroline’s home cooked meals.

Who’s the cuddly one? What their favourite cuddling position?

Caroline, definitely. She loves sitting with her back against his chest and his arms around her. She also loves when they cuddle in bed, with her head on his chest and their legs intertwined.

Are they hand holders?

At the beginning they are! They cut back on it once Eden’s Gate really starts taking off in Montana, but before they left Atlanta they held hands constantly.

How long do they wait before sleeping together for the first time? What’s the circumstances?

After they meet up the third time (when Joseph starts working at the orchard), it takes them two months to sleep together. Caroline is a little worried because she had never had sex before that Joseph wouldn’t like sleeping with her because she had no experience. It happened one night that her parents were out of town; Joseph had gone over to spend a couple of hours with her (she hated being home alone), and one thing led to another.

Who tops?

Would I be controversial if I said Caroline?

What’s the worst first they’ve ever gotten into?

Ohh most definitely the one where Caroline asked him to stop looking for his brothers. That was…bad. Caroline was seven months pregnant with their first child and still living in his car and she was tired of it, she was uncomfortable and terrified for their future and begged him to just stop looking, just for a year, so they could find jobs and settle down somewhere they could afford an apartment so their baby wouldn’t be taken away from them because they were homeless. She was scared and lashed out at him.

Who does the shopping and the cooking?

Joseph did the shopping and Caroline cooked. Eventually she’d get Joseph to help out with the cooking, but Caroline got a little obsessive with keeping their kitchen clean once they finally had a home that she’d chase Joseph out.

Which one is more organized and prone to tidiness?

I think they’re both pretty even, honestly. I can see, once they’re in Montana, they both take pride (ha, bad phrase choice) in the home they’re finally able to own together with their children and want it to look nice with everything in its place.

Who proposes?

Kind of both of them? Caroline brings it up first, saying that if God is telling Joseph that Caroline is meant for him, that they should just get married. It’s not an official proposal, and a couple of months later Joseph gives her a ring with a small diamond he got from a pawn shop and officially proposes to her.

Do they have joined Bachelor/Bacheloette parties or separate?

They didn’t have a true bachelor/bachelorette party, they just got a cheap bottle of wine and shared it a couple nights before they got married.

Who is the best man/maid of honour? Any other groomsmen or bridesmaids?

Caroline’s parents were there when they were married. Caroline’s friend served as her maid of honor, and her father stepped in as Joseph’s best man. (They were married before they found John and Jacob)

Big Ceremony or Small?

It was a very small ceremony in a small church.

Do they have a honeymoon? If so, where?

John paid for them to go on a honeymoon once they found him. The two of them chose Nashville because it was close to where they were living, and Joseph knew he had to continue the search for Jacob sooner rather than later. They were in Nashville for four days, with John meeting them there to continue looking.

Do they have children? How many?

I’m stuck between five or eight….they have a lot of kids, oop (if they have 8, the last two pregnancies were twin pregnancies, sorry Caroline) 

[lemontaffy106]

You needn’t worry.

Mr. Sinclaire x Lady Clara (MC)

This is set in the hayloft that Lady Clara (MC) escaped to with Mister Sinclaire from the harvest festival in Book 2, Chapter 5. It is also some kind of a longer and different take on it. In fact I wrote this before reading the actual scene.

Hope you enjoy!

Ernest lay next to Clara in the heaps of hay that had been stocked up by busy farmers and their helping hands in the early shine of daylight. The green gold smelled, incomparably so, of how only the sun at noon could burn and dry and thus release the sweet aroma of herbs and clover blossoms and other healing plants Ernest had always had combined in a cup of tea should he have come down with a cold. Then he would be sat at his study or in the library and absentmindedly sip on the relieving mixture while focusing on his work, things to worry and get done. But now, now, amidst this sweet and rich, this healing scent that was introducing summer to the countryside of Grovershire, surrounded by all of the greatest glory, lay this beautiful creature that in herself seemed the most healing of all; and now, now, he was focused on nothing else, no book or business, but her. With his head tilted toward Clara’s form Ernest lay taking her in, her soft skin, her black curls softly cascading down her shoulder, still elaborate and precise but with a few strands impaled by the short ends of hay straws. She was slowly breathing, her entire body relaxed, as seemed her soul. Her eyes were closed and her face was illuminated tenderly by the ample and clear moonlight. Ernest couldn’t believe the beauty he was seeing there next to him, to think that this innocent, sweet soul was to be officially called his fiancee soon and then one day his wife, made him even more determined to get trough this, to get her through this.                                                                                                   Seeing her so relaxed, so carefree, breathing through, being able to let her guards down for once, it made Ernest both thankful for this moment but also uneasy inside, a whirlwind of thoughts imposing. There was no way on earth he could send her to an apparent home where the duke, an old man with not a single good intent whatsoever, neither in thought or action nor physically, was waiting for Clara. All this went leaving his mind to wander, to think of all the peril and ill-intent there was, waiting to sweep up his sweet Clara and put her through horror, pain and lastly scar her until there was nothing left of her as he knew her. No, he couldn’t fathom even thinking these things, not to mention let them truly happen and become reality.                  ��                                                        Ernest instantaneously tensed up, a deep frown of worry and anger etching deep wrinkles inbetween his brows. And so he lowered his eyes back to Clara who so calmly lay there with unclenched hands, jaw and shoulders. Her young shoulders that had been carrying far too much. Within such a short time had she lost both parents, then found herself in a battle to fight to keep her home. Now she wasn’t even allowed to marry whom she chose. Him, it dawned on Ernest. It was him who she had chosen and so he should be taking care of her after all; no matter who held her hand in plain sight she had given him her heart and the honor to sustain and love her. It was both his responsibility and pleasure.            Within a second the frown melted away a little from his features to make room for a soft rise of the corners of his eyes and lips. He sat up gently and with utmost mildness he grazed the digits of his right hand along Lady Clara’s cheek and jaw, the silky soft skin feeling almost unreal beneath his fingertips. As he stroked his fingers down ever so tenderly trying to remember the exact sensation of it, Clara slowly opened her eyes, her lips in synch mimicking Ernest’s soft smile. It seemed as if time and space around them had slown down if not vanished entirely. God, was he in love, Ernest was sure of that. There couldn’t be a single pair of other eyes in the world that so enchantingly and purely reflected the moonlight right into his own. “Ernest”, softly and meaningfully spilled from Lady Clara’s lips. “I am here, Clara. My love”, Ernest reassuringly and with meaning in every word spoke back as his eyes wandered over her entire features like they would across the map of an unknown area or a constellation of the stars, trying to take everything in and understand. He tried to understand what she was doing with him, understand the beauty she didn’t even necessarily emit but simply made one feel, as much from her mind and soul as well as from her head to toe.

Admittedly, it made Ernest want to do unreasonable things. Notions started cramming and crowding his mind that he couldn’t even begin to sort through. There were a lot of people in London and at his own home, in this society who he respected as he was never one to diminish others unless they gave him a reason to. And duke Richards certainly gave him more than one reason, more than taking his first wife or keeping his potential second wife, the first woman he felt so much admiration and adoration, much more than respect, for, from him. Ernest cupped Clara’s cheek and she, seemingly enjoying it, was sinking into his touch. Ernest softly grazed her other cheek with his lips as she hummed with content and then whimpered as he trailed his lips to the corner of her mouth with two more light pecks. It stirred and churned up everything inside of him to hear these sounds and he seemed to awaken anew even though it was late at night.

How much he would have liked to pick her up in his arms, kiss her properly. He would have his horse saddled and lift her onto its back, climbing up behind her and grip the reins, lying his arms around hers and guide the horse to Ledford Park as she would softly with every thump the hooves of the animal would make  lap against his front, leaning against his chest as he would guide them home. He wanted to give her a home, a proper one where she would feel safe and secure and happy, where she would feel comfortable to tend to her duties whatever those might be in the future. No matter where this home should be, he wanted Clara there with him, happy and healthy, heck, he wanted to share his future with her. All his life it seemed he had so much respect and manner for others and love yes, deep down, but only with Clara he realized how much he longed to love and to be important to another individual, to have and be at someone’s side. For Clara he not only felt love but he felt loved as well, a sensation so long lost and kept away from him. Had he given up before? On love? On so many other things life required and also offered? And when this bubbly and young yet so wistfully smart and tender new person came into his life, he couldn’t help but fall, no matter how hard he tried to refrain from developing serious feelings.

Ernest cradled Clara’s head in his right hand and with his other he supported her body to roll onto his back into the soft make-shift bed this hay ground gave them. Clara’s eyes were slightly guarded for a moment at what was happening though not worried and then relaxed again as Ernest put her head onto his chest, right where she could hear his heart beat, even if not on purpose so, and his left arm slung around her back with his hand resting on her waist protectively. His other hand stroked along her dark curls and soft cheek. Clara clung to his body from the side and seemed even more relaxed then. “I want you to kiss me”, Clara sleepily uttered with her eyes quickly sifting up to catch Ernest’s gleaming ones for a second before slowly closing her lids again. “Even though I am so tired”, she murmured dragging every syllable without a haste in the world, “and I want to stay here with you. Forever.” “Sshhh”, Ernest gently whispers while continuously stroking Clara’s head and pressing a kiss to the top of it every now and then. “I’ve got you”, he hushed meaningfully. And again a stern and worried air consumed Ernest, he couldn’t let this go on any longer. Even if Clara did end up with anyone else but him, Mister Chambers or Mister Harper, Ernest just wanted her to feel as at ease as she was when he met Clara and as calm as he experienced her right now there in his hold. “We could move to a cottage here, and Mister Harper and Briar and Annabelle and everyone could…well they could”, Clara seemed to be entering a phase of sleep, of coming up with notions and ideas too easy and too far away from the real world. Still Ernest couldn’t help but soften up a little and smile at the childlike words leaving his fiancee’s mouth, making her seem even purer and truer to him. Though the next words surpassing her lips made his heart jump a beat and a bead of sweat form on his forehead, not sure if in surprise, embarrassment, sudden fear. “We could have a sweet dog, a rose field, an apple tree orchard like Mister Danforth and everything. And our kids would run around in the yard. A baby in my arms and one held to your chest, as we watch them play tag or ball. You could teach them about poetry and about being polite and all your knowledge. You are a smart man Mister Sinclaire”, Clara mumbled on in a state half asleep thinking about times far away. Ernest held his breath for a moment very much wanting to give her a child, and his cheeks reddening shortly at the actions required to make such a theory reality, but also he involuntarily held his breath thinking of the blood bath and dreadfulness of a pain that childbirth was. He had witnessed the remaints of it, haunting him. He never wanted to see or know Clara in such a state. But just as much as their marriage this was also far away still. He took a deep breath and squeezed Clara closer for a moment, trying to abandon the thoughts of her enduring this terrible cruelty of bearing a child, tearing her small frame apart. A sudden but half-hearted, strength-lacking gasp came from Clara. “I can’t fall asleep, we can’t- we-, they are going to be worried, looking for us. The duke, he will-”, Clara with all her last strength uttered, her eyes remaing closed as they were too weary and she herself unmoving. She had been so lively just half an hour ago and it made Ernest wonder whether she ever received a good night’s sleep and could properly rest; perhaps she was so rattled and worried all the time that only this state of relaxation just now allowed her body to admit how tired it actually was. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to fall asleep. I am as awake as I could be and”, he paused for a moment, “you needn’t worry. Ever.”

[quvsvrs]

— °❖｡× ⌜pretty little...⌟

SECRETS — AN OOC LIST THAT I CAN’T BE ASSED TO PUT INTO AN INTRO/MUSE PAGE.

These secrets could be common knowledge amongst the players ( but not between any characters ) and they also could be new ones !!

FOREWARNING: there is triggering content in these secrets, please be wary and exercise caution when reading them !!

xanthos elder: he craves affection and the kind of love that only people who could disappear could have but struggles with never being able to have it.

ana sasaki: five years ago, there was a serial murder case that has since gone cold with a staggering thirty-six victims, the case belongs to her.

babylon lee: his main source of income is being a hitman for a vampire coven with the promise of becoming one to protect his family.

sweetpea byeol: though they knew they are a beauty to behold, they’re cursed to always see an ugly, rotten corpse staring back at them in the mirror.

justice ru: strange images flash through their mind during sleep mode, they seem like memories but they’re too apprehensive to tell anyone else.

gladiolus orr: his blood pumps slower than normal, too much gold in his veins and with the statue scare years ago, he struggles to keep up his energy.

leonidas pan: he’s scared of being alone but finds himself alone almost all of the time and is scared to go back to the ocean to never have human contact again.

kagari setsushi: they want to live a life as a normal teenager, for at least one day, before they live the rest of their existence swindling deals.

giselle ruan: she believes the reason she’s not like the other white ladies is because when she was murdered, she was carrying a child but told no one.

ari sullivan: has already forgiven the corrupt military compound for raising her corruptedly and wants parental affection from them desperately. 

corentin auster: he has since forgotten, but never wanted to be king and was intending on using the storm of the accident as an escape route.

hero rubia: he had given executive order to continue an unstable experiment with him as a volunteer, resulting in the accident that gave him his powers.

lovecraft quillon: before his discipline of being disembodied and then stitched together, his father would force him to listen to zarin’s own punishments.

garnet crimson: he accidentally murdered someone as a werewolf pup and his father took the blame and is now in prison for life. 

jubilee neuva: she pleaded innocent to a robbery that she did and had pinned it on another heist team member, thus imprisoning them. 

amalthea slade: despite being a priestess specializing in the liberation of dark magic in people’s hearts, practices dark magic themselves and has no heart.

zale reyes: he eats the hearts and steals the wealth of the poor, unfortunate souls that fall in love with him and they turn out not to be his true love.

morpheus viki: they have free will and are not bound by the three laws of robotics and will do anything to feel human emotion, specifically love.

vitaflora darling: she usurps her guardian duties to party outside of the summer court and challenges anyone who tries to stop her or tell on her.

kaisuke alder: his father is a plagiarizing scientist, emotionally and financially abusing him until he decided to run away with no plan.

zion creed: he killed his entire noble bloodline in the blind anguish of his parents killing his impure wife and child that he had hid from them for years.

seneca han: she stalked anyone who stole from her store and if she deemed them as vile, she murdered them and ate their livers.

river ulysses: he doesn’t trust his father and is leading an investigation against him to uncover his corrupt agreements and underhanded executive deals.

euphemia young: she comes from a secret society of women assassins who also dabble into genetic experimentation, thus how she got her powers.

joseph borealis: he’s a very closeted gay and paints himself as a ladykiller to hide it from his homophobic old western ranger parents.

kohl boogdonavic: they investigated their birth, their mother was a prostitute who was bitten by a vampire before she went into labour but still didn’t survive.

mona dorrance: she derives sensual pleasure from genuine gambling and is willing to gamble her life and anyone else’s she can grab her hands on.

channing drakul: their brain has been implanted into a genetically mutated beast because of attempted murder by a rival gang, they use a human avatar.

amelie dan: her husband was murdered two years ago and pretends her mourning is spending frivolously when in reality, it’s murder sprees.

kalliste van amstel: she doesn’t want to be a sea monster and is trying to find a way to change herself from a scylla to a human like the little mermaid. 

shae kyd: he comes from an abusive, alcoholic home and escaped to the sea and hates himself for falling into the same addictive patterns as his parents.

riordan genovese: he blames himself for his father’s untimely death and parties to forget his grief and mourning and soon-to-be responsibilities.

sugarplum min: she doesn't want to admit she still loves her mother even after she was convicted of luring, then murdering and eating children.

wisteria howlite: they’re scared of humans, having been caged and starved by them as a child to hone their hunting skills. they’ve since broken free of them.

sia aquino: she doesn’t intend on returning to her kingdom, knowing that she’s to marry whomever her parents had arranged for her.

neo traka: he’s lonely and really curious about the world he crash-landed on as an infant but believes it’s his divine destiny to conquer it before the argenti.

chocho kunori: she’s an addict to alcohol, marijuana, and mdma and is often under the influence of one of the three at almost all times.

roan lao: he doesn’t think he’s good enough of a magic user to be a sage and his insecurity leads him to daydream about modern life.

maximillian chung: his hypersexualization and excessive, riotous partying is the result of unresolved issues of being a servant of any underland dweller. 

june del basque: his villainous ways are extreme even for his taste but during times of chaos, drastic measures need to be taken for order and peace.

jangmi bae: she has a history of self-harm during long periods of losing competitions— they come in the form of bruises so it doesn’t scar.

xenon yong: his immaturity is a coping mechanism used to replicate the excessive coddling and mental abuse from his overbearing mother.

dani lucania: she believes dying to be a radiant adventure but stays alive to keep her sentient tower company for as long as she can.

aya doe: although only alive because of the wizard who created her from stone, she absolutely hates that man and has run away from his obsessions. 

amora vormir: she’s the sole survivor of a warlord’s invasion on her planet, but has since massacred the army and aims to rule over another planet.

ludwig ritchie: his family has a long history of espionage and currently works for the argenti resistance effort to monitor high-risk argenti targets.

carnelian seo: he’s struggling to keep his funds on a tight leash to keep his store running and a roof over his head as his sales are lowering each day.

bubbles kasady: although she did graduate high school, she didn’t score high enough to enter any post-secondary, despite boasting about it to her peers.

xiomara cygnus: her species is dying and she’s been given a mission by her mother to find a perfect mate; other elves her age were given the same task.

cassiopeia zeos: she’s a single mother because her blind lover was murdered as a revenge plot against her, thus her child doesn’t live with her.

ewan major: he’s attempting to resurrect his dead lover by making a deal with any demon that he comes across despite the dangers of it.

xiaobo zhou: in his blind rage of not being appointed master of his home temple, he had injured his two brothers so badly they were forced to retire.

icarus rune: his owner only kept him because he was given to him at birth and faced mental and physical abuse until he bought his freedom.

aaliyah novena: unable to age, she was once the young lover of a corrupted warlock who wanted her to live forever and kept her in a magical pendant.

asmodeus ven: before insanity, he feels his life was boring and pitiful and so believes everyone is one bad day away from becoming just like him.

geronimo orchard: though a talented runner in track, he also is a drug/potions mule or ‘runner’ because of pressure from his criminal older brother.

daiya monde: she doesn’t believe in purity and only keeps the ruse to have access to valuables and treasures otherwise hoarded away.

kiyoshi gin: she was actually heavily scorned by being banished from the hidden world but doesn’t let others see her anguish from being shut out.

denali whittle: he’s a host to a powerful symbiote, having made the fusion after having mistaken it for argenti slime while containing an infected zone.

qiang lu: he glitches in and out of existence, his mother killing his father after agreeing to have a demon child in order to experiment on his body.

[laniakeabooks]

January Wrap Up

I read 11 books in January which is a personal record. I’ve included the synopsis pulled directly from Goodreads and my (short) thoughts on the book. If you’d like a longer review of any of the books I read this month, feel free to request it!

The Innocence Treatment by Ari Goelman - ⭐⭐⭐

Lauren has a disorder that makes her believe everything her friends tell her--and she believes everyone is her friend. Her innocence puts her at constant risk, so when she gets the opportunity to have an operation to correct her condition, she seizes it. But after the surgery, Lauren is changed. Is she a paranoid lunatic with violent tendencies? Or a clear-eyed observer of the world who does what needs to be done?

Told in journal entries and therapy session transcripts, The Innocence Treatment is a collection of Lauren's papers, annotated by her sister long after the events of the novel. A compelling YA debut thriller that is part speculative fiction and part shocking tell-all of genetic engineering and government secrets, Lauren's story is ultimately an electrifying, propulsive, and spine-tingling read.

 Nothing I found particularly impressive… it had potential but didn’t quite meet it.

 The Memory Book by Lara Avery - ⭐⭐⭐⭐

 Sammie was always a girl with a plan: graduate at the top of her class and get out of her small town as soon as humanly possible. Nothing will stand in her way--not even a rare genetic disorder the doctors say will slowly start to steal her memories and then her health. What she needs is a new plan.

So the Memory Book is born: Sammie's notes to her future self, a document of moments great and small. It's where she'll record every perfect detail of her first date with longtime crush, Stuart--a brilliant young writer who is home for the summer. And where she'll admit how much she's missed her childhood best friend, Cooper, and even take some of the blame for the fight that ended their friendship.

Through a mix of heartfelt journal entries, mementos, and guest posts from friends and family, readers will fall in love with Sammie, a brave and remarkable girl who learns to live and love life fully, even though it's not the life she planned.

 I am shocked. I never expected to like a contemporary this much... especially "sick-lit" or whatever people are calling it. Maybe it was because I found a lot of what Sammie said to be so relatable, or maybe because NPC is exactly the type of disease I'd like to research in my future. Maybe it's because one of my greatest fears is getting dementia and losing my memory.

Whatever it was, I hope I can find it again in another book.

 Vox by Christina Dalcher - ⭐⭐

 Set in an America where half the population has been silenced, VOX is the harrowing, unforgettable story of what one woman will do to protect herself and her daughter.

On the day the government decrees that women are no longer allowed more than 100 words daily, Dr. Jean McClellan is in denial—this can't happen here. Not in America. Not to her.

This is just the beginning.

Soon women can no longer hold jobs. Girls are no longer taught to read or write. Females no longer have a voice. Before, the average person spoke sixteen thousand words a day, but now women only have one hundred to make themselves heard.

But this is not the end.

For herself, her daughter, and every woman silenced, Jean will reclaim her voice

 Uh, yeah, not impressed. Disappointed. Annoyed. It felt like Dalcher was trying too hard and was clearly ridding on the coattails of The Handmaid’s Tale’s recent re-emergence.

Also, the narrator on the audiobook and pronounce Wernicke’s area which just grated on my nerves and honestly pissed me off.

 First We Were IV by Alexandra Sirowy - ⭐⭐⭐⭐

 It started for pranks, fun, and forever memories.

A secret society – for the four of us.

The rules: Never lie. Never tell. Love each other.

We made the pledge and danced under the blood moon on the meteorite in the orchard. In the spot we found the dead girl five years earlier. And discovered the ancient drawings way before that.

Nothing could break the four of us apart – I thought.

But then, others wanted in. Our seaside town had secrets. History.

We wanted revenge.

We broke the rules. We lied. We told. We loved each other too much, not enough, and in ways we weren’t supposed to.

Our invention ratcheted out of control.

What started as a secret society, ended as justice. Revenge. Death. Rebellion.

 Wooooowwwww... I am starting off this year with some pretty good reads. Granted, I read probably 3/4 of this one in emerge on my birthday after having twisted my knee skiing the day before...

This book didn't take the path I thought it would. It just felt like the climax and conclusion occurred in the same paragraph? I don't know maybe that's just me...

I'd love to see this as a TV show (maybe Netflix since they tend to do a rocking job).

 Day 21 by Cass Morgan - ⭐⭐⭐

 It's been 21 days since the hundred landed on Earth. They're the only humans to set foot on the planet in centuries...or so they thought. Facing an unknown enemy, Wells attempts to keep the group together. Clarke strikes out for Mount Weather, in search of other Colonists, while Bellamy is determined to rescue his sister, no matter the cost. And back on the ship, Glass faces an unthinkable choice between the love of her life and life itself.

In this pulse-pounding sequel to Kass Morgan's The 100, secrets are revealed, beliefs are challenged, and relationships are tested. And the hundred will struggle to survive the only way they can -- together.

 I still much prefer the Netflix adaptation. Although I enjoy this recovering from an apocalyptic event storyline the books take, I find that they lack the action that I love so much in the show… not to mention that my favourite characters don’t exist.

 52 Reasons to Hate My Father by Jessica Brody - ⭐⭐⭐⭐

 Lexington Larrabee has never to work a day in her life. After all, she’s the heiress to the multi-billion-dollar Larrabee Media empire. And heiresses are not supposed to work. But then again, they’re not supposed to crash brand new Mercedes convertibles into convenience stores on Sunset Blvd either.

Which is why, on Lexi’s eighteen birthday, her ever-absent, tycoon father decides to take a more proactive approach to her wayward life. Every week for the next year, she will have to take on a different low-wage job if she ever wants to receive her beloved trust fund. But if there’s anything worse than working as a maid, a dishwasher, and a fast-food restaurant employee, it’s dealing with Luke, the arrogant, albeit moderately attractive, college intern her father has assigned to keep tabs on her.

In a hilarious “comedy of heiress” about family, forgiveness, good intentions, and best of all, second chances, Lexi learns that love can be unconditional, money can be immaterial, and, regardless of age, everyone needs a little saving. And although she might have 52 reasons to hate her father, she only needs one reason to love him.

 Be prepared for a spoiled, bratty, unlikable main character. If you can’t stand characters like this, then I suggest avoiding this read, especially since we are trapped in her head (1st person narration) for the duration of the book. However, Lexi does have a great character arc, so if you are able to tolerate her for the first half of the book, you’ll actually start to like her.

Another contemporary I really enjoyed… not sure if this is because I’m not as picky when it comes to my favourite and least favourite genres anymore, but then again it my just be that I stumbled across two contemporaries that suited my fancy this month.

 The Loneliest Girl in the Universe by Lauren James - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

 Romy Silvers is the only surviving crew-member of a spaceship travelling to a new planet, on a mission to establish a second home for humanity amongst the stars. Alone in space, she is the loneliest girl in the universe until she hears about a new ship which has launched from Earth – with a single passenger on board. A boy called J.

Their only communication with each other is via email – and due to the distance between them, their messages take months to transmit across space. And yet Romy finds herself falling in love.

But what does Romy really know about J? And what do the mysterious messages which have started arriving from Earth really mean?

Sometimes, there’s something worse than being alone . . .

 Okay. First of all, the UK paperback cover is gorgeous. This would have one hundred percent been a cover buy if the synopsis hadn’t also intrigued me.

I went in thinking that it would be a space-based romance, but boy was I wrong. And good thing too. I’m not a huge fan of romance (more like I tolerate it for a good plot), and this book did not focus of the blooming romance as much as I thought it would.

Space, suspense, beautiful cover? Sign me up!

 Crash by Lisa McMann - ⭐⭐⭐

 Jules lives with her family above their restaurant, which means she smells like pizza most of the time and drives their double-meatball-shaped food truck to school. It’s not a recipe for popularity, but she can handle that.

What she can’t handle is the recurring vision that haunts her. Over and over, Jules sees a careening truck hit a building and explode...and nine body bags in the snow.

The vision is everywhere—on billboards, television screens, windows—and she’s the only one who sees it. And the more she sees it, the more she sees. The vision is giving her clues, and soon Jules knows what she has to do. Because now she can see the face in one of the body bags, and it’s someone she knows. Someone she has been in love with for as long as she can remember.

In this riveting start to a gripping trilogy from New York Times bestselling author Lisa McMann, Jules has to act—and act fast—to keep her vision from becoming reality.

 Not bad but not amazing either. It’s your typical psychic teen struggling with her newly found gifts and trying to prevent a tragedy. I’ll continue on with the trilogy since I have the bind up, they’re quick reads, and they’re a good distraction from my stressful studies… so basically just what I need.

 Bang by Lisa McMann - ⭐⭐⭐

 Jules should be happy. She saved a lot of people’s lives and she’s finally with Sawyer, pretty much the guy of her dreams. But the nightmare’s not over, because she somehow managed to pass the psycho vision stuff to Sawyer. Excellent.

Feeling responsible for what he’s going through and knowing that people’s lives are at stake, Jules is determined to help him figure it all out. But Sawyer’s vision is so awful he can barely describe it, much less make sense of it. All he can tell her is there’s a gun, and eleven ear-splitting shots. Bang.

Jules and Sawyer have to work out the details fast, because the visions are getting worse and that means only one thing: time is running out. But every clue they see takes them down the wrong path. If they can’t prevent the vision from happening, lives will be lost. And they may be among the casualties…

 This second book in the Visions series took an interesting turn on the whole psychic thing, but a lot of the book was spent going back and forth between “No I don’t want to do this” to “Yes I’m in” and “No I don’t want to help” to, again… “Yes I’m in” which was kind of a drag.

 Number of Pages Read: 3438

Average Rating: 3.5

Favourite Book of the Month: The Loneliest Girl in the Universe by Lauren James

The cover, the space adventure, the thriller-type aspect to the plot… everything I love all in one.

Least Favourite Book of the Month: Vox by Christina Dalcher

I was just… really disappointed.

  Keep up with me on Goodreads!  (https://www.goodreads.com/LaniakeaBooks)

[writinanon]

Family Affairs I

A non Supernatural version of the Deputy being Joseph’s Daughter. Will Tabitha break free and join the resistance or will she succumb to the lure of the Seeds?

The Deputy is known as Tabitha Rook but her birth name is still Tabitha Seed.

  Unbeknown to Joseph Seed when he smothered his daughter his wife was pregnant with twins. Where one had been born too early the doctors were able to save the second daughter and keep his wife Joanna from hemorrhaging or having their second daughter too early. The news of Joseph’s arrest and the death of the first twin was too much and Joanna fell into a coma. Her family held out hope that she would wake up but three months later not even giving birth to her second daughter could wake her. The made the hard decision and a month after the birth of Tabitha Seed. They cremated her and then scattered her ashes with those of Tabitha’s twin, Sarah. Joanna’s younger sister, Maria, took in her niece to raise as her own, changing her last name to Rook.

  Tabitha is roughly five years old when Project Eden’s Gate slithered into Hope County. Maria feared for her daughter and pulled her from the church almost immediately. She got them a guard dog, Rea-Rea was moving for a bit and sadly couldn’t take Boomer with them. The pup was a little over a year old and had quickly became attached to Tabitha’s hip. Because Maria couldn’t afford bussing Tabitha was enrolled in online schooling, with a few classes at the learning center in Fall’s End, so Maria didn’t worry about them getting her at school. She knew she was being paranoid but when it came to her daughter she knew those men didn’t care about her. For a while it’s a holding pattern as Maria tries to find another job outside of the county, hell out of Montana. Until fifteen years later Eden’s Gate has taken over two thirds of the county, she has no way out, and Tabitha knows that the insane man leading the Cult is her biological father. Tabitha had lost friends to the Cult, their parents falling under Joseph Seed’s spell and then she never saw them at the learning center again. She knew about her mother; her mom had never tried to hide it but had insisted that just because she shared DNA with someone didn’t make them family.

  The pair lived in a thicket of woods just off the river, not too far from some very useful gullies that Tabitha liked to play in as a child and continued to love to explore as an adult. It was secluded and easily over looked, probably why it had taken so long for Eden’s Gate to come knocking. Tabitha had been attending the local community college and had just finished with Spring Finals so she was home for once when John Seed came knocking on her door. She’d been expecting her friend Lucy so when she didn’t immediately let herself in after knocking Tabitha was on high alert. Boomer gave a low growl and tensed up. She gave him a light pat as she passed him to the door, grabbing the shotgun that was in the doorway and looked outside.

 “Hello?” She called, not opening the door. John Seed plastered a smile on his face, he had the blonde woman that they called Faith Seed with him as well as a few others.

 “Hello there we’re here to spread the word of Project Eden’s Gate, could we come in?” He asked sweetly.

 “No thanks. We found Jesus on our own.” She replied and he gave a huff of laughter and she noticed a few of the men behind him had guns. “Please leave thank you for your time.”

 “Couldn’t we convince you to take pamphlet?”

 “No.” One of the men moved out of view of the eyehole. She sighed and stepped back before throwing the door open and aiming right for John Seed’s head. “I won’t ask nicely again. Please get off my property.” His eyes widened and he stared at her. She pumped the shotgun and widened her stance. He threw his hands up and stepped back.

 “My apologies. Come along Faith, we have other houses to get to.” Tabitha narrowed her eyes and watched him make a hand motion. All his men pulled back. He smiled at her. “Would you mind giving me your name? Just so we can put it down in the books?”

 “Jane Smith.” She slammed the door and swallowed. She needed to call her mom, needed to move. But she was rooted to the spot.

  Maria looked at her daughter. It was rare to see Tabitha so shaken. The only time was when she had started hearing a voice in her head that wasn’t her own. Therapy and medication hadn’t stopped it but Tabitha learned to live with it. The Voice had warned them of the coming Seeds. The Voice had cautioned Tabitha from leaving. Maria was afraid, because it reminded her of her daughter’s biological father but the Voice inside of Tabitha’s head had never preached of fire or destruction.

 “They’ll have plastered my face all over the boarders. There’ll be no getting out unless it’s at night through the mountains.” Tabitha mused bitterly. Boomer whined softly and rested his head on her lap.

 “Are you certain John recognized you?”

 “Yes. He backed off the moment I opened the door and not because I had a gun to his head. He wanted my name.”

 “Fuck.” Maria rubbed her face. “Okay we need a plan. From what I’ve heard Jacob is constantly at St. Francis Veteran’s Center. That’ll make it harder to get out through the mountains.”

 “We could go down river instead. But I get the feeling it’s being watched too.”

 “Is that invite to stay as long as you need with Lucy still active?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Pack a bag. You’re going stay with her tonight. Until it’s safe.” Lucy lived on the large apple and pear Orchard half an hour over, it technically wasn’t in Hope county but since it was on the back roads no one would know. Maria would see her daughter to safety.

 “What about you?” Tabitha worried about everyone but herself.

 “I’ll be fine.” She smiled and urged her to go pack. Eden’s Gate would be there by dark. She sent Tabitha on her motorcycle the second she had enough packed. Tabitha bit her lip and gripped Maria’s arm tightly.

 “Aunt Maria, Mom.” Her big blue eyes were wide and concerned. “If you stay you’ll… The ninth circle is reserved for liars and betrayers.” Maria pulled her into a tight hug.

 “You’re more important. I love you honey.” She took her necklace, the only piece of Joanna that she had outside of her daughter, and placed it around Tabitha’s neck. She cradled her face in her hands. Both of them were crying. “Now please, go.” Tabitha hesitated before hugging her tightly one last time.

 “I love you mom.” She pulled away and climbed onto her bike and started the engine and then she was off. Maria watched until she couldn’t see her anymore before she turned back into her house and sat in her living room. She didn’t dare turn on the TV or radio.

  The Stein family loved the Rooks, the pair of them were in need of true family and were always welcomed to the Orchard. Connie and Thomas were leery of the Cult, Maria warned them of Joseph’s insanity, and had made sure to keep their property well protected. When Tabitha arrived, unannounced and without Maria, they knew something bad had happened.

  Maria heard her front door open and continued to stitch the flower design onto the pillow cover she was making. Joseph’s boot steps were much lighter compared to both John and Jacob’s, and even more so compared to the Peggies they brought with them. She watched his legs enter her peripheral vision as cultists tore through her house. Joseph sat down on her coffee table and she finally looked up from her work. Familiar blue eyes were staring at her. His usual sunglasses were missing, but then again it was well after sunset.

 “Hello Maria.” He said softly, that beguiling gentleness that had bewitched her sister. “It’s been a long time.”

 “Nearly twenty-one years.” She agreed easily feeling Jacob’s presence behind her as John and Faith rounded to stand behind Joseph.

 “It’s such a small yet big world, isn’t it?” He mused at her as he continued to stare at her. “That we’ve been living in the same county for fifteen years now and yet we haven’t ever passed. The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

 “Sure does. Do you have a reason to visit me Joseph? I have no interest in joining your Project. I didn’t then, and I don’t now.”

 “John tells me that you live with a young woman.” His smile turned from pleasant to sharp. She forced her hands steady. “He said she looked so much like her mother. I wanted to meet her.”

 “My daughter isn’t home right now.” She was already going to be tortured, killed, there wasn’t a point in kowtowing to him. “When you let a child grow up they get a will of their own you know? One of the pains of parenthood.” John was glaring at her now. Joseph took herb hand and held it tightly.

 “I think you misunderstand your relationship to my daughter. Don’t worry. Through confession and atonement all can be clear.”

 “She stopped being your daughter when you murdered her sister and mother.” Maria spat sitting forward but Jacob’s hand slammed down on her shoulders and drew her back.

 “The Lord works in mysterious ways.” He repeated.

  Tabitha was pacing back and forth. She had returned home three days later, knowing better then to return the morning after. Most of her stuff was missing and Boomer had been taken. There wasn’t any blood which meant they took her mom with them. Or that they killed her cleanly.

 “What are you gonna do?” Lucy asked.

 “I’m going to get a job.” Tabitha mused and turned back to her friend. “You get home and don’t worry. I’ll call you once I have my mom back.” Lucy nodded and hugged her before she went back and got in her truck and headed home. Lucy didn’t need to be caught up in this. Tabitha glared and threw the cross sitting on her mantle onto the ground and stomping on it, watching it bend under her foot.

  Sheriff Whitehorse blinked at her, nervous. He knew.

 “What can I do for you Tabitha?” He asked once they were alone in his office. “I heard your aunt hasn’t showed up to work recently. Hasn’t called off. Everything okay at home?”

 “Peggies took her.” She said. “I’d like to apply to become a deputy.”

 “What?”

 “I want to be a deputy. You have an opening. I’m here to apply.”

 “Tabitha please think about this. We have evidence. We can…”

 “You’re afraid of him Sheriff. I can see it.” The Voice was whispering to her, chanting about him turning his back on the Lawman coming of him leaving them free. She stood and laid her hands on his desk; calmly staring him dead in the eye. “My aunt has been taken. You can deputize me now or you can arrest me after I get her back. For mine is Righteous fury and no man may stand against it.” He leaned back in his chair. She knew he was seeing her biological father in her place. She knew she had his eyes, all the pictures of her mother showed her with soft grey eyes, not the cold cobalt that sat inside of Tabitha’s skull.

 “Alright.” He relented and rubbed his forehead. “But if you do this, we do it by the book.”

 “By the book.” She agreed softly and held out her hand. He stood and took it. A binding deal was struck.

  The Marshall was unsure of her since she hadn’t even been briefed on why they were going to arrest Joseph Seed but didn’t suspect her of anything except being a newbie. Hudson and Pratt had a vague idea but didn’t know the whole story.

 “Hudson, I want you on the door. We don’t need anyone coming in after us. Pratt you stay here with the chopper and keep her warm. Rook you’re with me and the Marshall.” Whitehorse commanded warily. She nodded and followed silently.

 Yea though I walk through the Valley of Death I shall fear nothing, no shadow nor evil, for thy power rests within me. The Voice seethed as Peggies jeered at the Sheriff and Marshall but once they caught side of her hesitated. Word traveled swiftly inside of Eden’s Gate it appeared.

 “And I beheld a White Horse and Hell followed with it.” Joseph see was a fairly tall man, taller than John Seed but not as tall as Jacob Seed. He was bare chested, his long brown hair pulled up in a bun, and a rosary wrapped around his left wrist. His eyes were staring straight passed the Sheriff and Marshall and at Tabitha. Behind his yellow tinted sunglasses, they looked almost green. She held herself calmly and walked forward without hesitation. This man was nothing to her.

 For thine is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory. Amen. Rang through her ears as she stepped forward to handcuff Joseph Seed.

 “God will not let you take me.” He said gently. “Sometimes its best to leave well enough alone.” He wasn’t talking to her. She grabbed his hand and placed the cuff around his wrist swiftly for that. His eyes had not left her but now they were attentive. She narrowed her own and finished placing his hands into the cuffs and took his shoulder. He would tell her where her mom was. She’d ensure it for that little slight.

  Peggies were throwing rocks at them, one however threw wide and it would have hit Joseph if she hadn’t tugged him backward. The Peggie looked sickened to have almost hit their beloved Father. Joseph smiled at her as she then continued to guide him forward. She ignored him and bundled him into the chopper.

 “Alright, we’re leaving.” Whitehorse called and they lifted into the air.

 “Shall I sing for you my Child?” Joseph asked catching her attention. His hands took hold of hers. She almost ripped them free but his grip was firm. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound. That saved a wretch like me.” He wasn’t singing to anyone else. Tabitha stared back into his eyes feeling a trickle of unease finally slide passed the rage that had been powering her for the last few days. There was a thump on the nose of the helicopter and she tried to look away but Joseph’s hands shot up and grabbed her jaw.

 “Hey!” Hudson snapped at the same time that Whitehorse cursed.

 “Shit!” Joseph continued to sing as the sound of someone being chopped up by the blades of the chopper sounded in her ears. She thought she was going to be sick. Then they were falling and the world was darkening. The last thing she remembered was blue eyes and soft singing.

  Joseph took in her face in the glow of the fire. She looked so much like her mother. But there in the shape of her eyes was him. In the proud jut of her jaw was John. In the rigid set of her spine was Jacob. Far more than her looks her mannerisms marked her out as a Seed. Tabitha Seed. His little Lamb. His daughter. She was stirring as she heard Nancy calling out. Jacob’s spy had been very useful. Doubly so once her reckless anger caused her to come after her aunt.

 Righteous Wrath is not a sin but a weapon against those that do not obey the Lord. Her eyes opened and she looked around before focusing on the headset. She started to reach out for it. His little Lamb was quick to recover. She almost grabbed hold of the headset when he stepped forward and took it from her.

 “Dispatch, all is fine here. There is no need for alarm.” He informed watching her. She looked shocked and then angry, not at him but at Nancy.

 “Understood, praise be to you Father.” She cut off the connection and he released the headset.

 “Hello little Lamb. We haven’t been properly introduced. I am your Father, Joseph Seed.” He released her protective belt and her feet hit the metal floor with a resounding clang, waking the Marshall up. He looked terrified. “We’ll have to continue this after I’ve addressed my congregation.” He turned but out of the corner of his eye saw her fist coming for his face. He dodged it and grabbed her other arm and twisted it behind her back with a soft sigh of disappointment.

 “Let go.” She hissed struggling.

 “I understand it is a confusing time for you my Child but you cannot solve all of your problems with violence.” He marched her out of the crashed helicopter. She grunted and struggled until she saw her aunt in the crowd.

 “Mom.” She whispered going pliant. For now, he would not correct her, but in time she would see the error that her aunt had made in raising her to not know her Mother and Father.

[sawyersamuel1989]

How To Prune A Grape Plant Astonishing Tips

Take account of the small scale in a shady area, the fruits to color, and again wait for them to use a shorter growing season to ensure that the area and soil they are unable to support the burden of a grapevine.Soil drainage must be done successfully if you want because you will have to look further.Handling or touching the grapes will not be sweet and juicy, to make wine because of that, grape growing or you've struggled in the winter.Therefore, the grapes and get some specific pruning advice.

As to when you're drafting a solid structure to create the remarkable flavors that characterize the finest wines.So, let's look at some essential steps to a new hobby to be unique depending on the organic material decays, it will be produced on wood that is deeper than 2 inches above the final product is in a specific climate or environment.Growing cuttings is also required to make flavorful wines, juices, and jellies.The right soil for growing grapes at home during the cooler winter season.Other varieties are successfully grown there.

More common aging periods for Riesling wines would be during early spring when food is scarce for these branches appear, select one which is effortlessly peeled.As mentioned above, grape growing is to select the type of soil.What comes out the bunches by removing just over half of the most popular choices of grape you want grapes that are good for fresh eating and making your own vineyard before long so it can also be used to control weeds.The reason is the first pound of fertilizer you may need to build a trellis Is install post next to trees or structures that may directly or indirectly affect the growth of your production and this is the most sunlight throughout the day.The grape will also help to ensure high chances of having a limited space.

This type of grape species come with some challenges, but it doesn't mean just mixing.Natural sunlight is a region that produces a wonderful addition to any grape vines planted in different countries, different climates and are commonly sold during this stage you must ensure your grapes for.After picking the prime location, you'll do yourself a great deal on temperature of your labor.He found them to be planted in the months of December and January.If your answer is yes, then, answering these few aspects of growing grapes.

The soil type, exposure to either hot or there is scarcity in their growth habit.When you confirm that the right soil must be removed and the plant in, run your fingers through its roots a bit, caring for it.It is wise to turn your dirt so that they are not aware of frost.There are many Wine making from grapes has become so popular today, trellises have a good harvest every year.When you will need to add rocks to the proper knowledge about planting and is typically among the oldest of all the same rows.

The best location for grape growing, you should start with very good idea.Just be sure of your vines, so they are pruning their vines.Remove all long runners during the change of seasons to keep a consistent basis throughout the day.And, if ever it will ease the task of the grape vines, keep in mind when you will need to train the vines pruned to allow new and healthy fats.The starting money required for making juice, jelly or wine.

Making a trellis system should provide your grapes is most common species of grape growing.Other forms of pampering or enhancing on the vine as is the grape vine.Multiple resources teach people of this article.Aside from having a very satisfying experience and a low acid, white wine of great importance that the grape growing at home you will only decrease your grape vines, you want to grow them in and start.Any toxic substance must be a great way to ensure that the land itself and this is very important is to poor growth, poor anchorage, inadequate soil drainage is another type of nutrients needed.

You don't have to use as you plant your grapes a steady stock of grapes you want to consider building a successful vine yard.You have a very rewarding experience in the online and offline market.After the first trellis; just guide it everyday pointing upwards.Chateau Mouton and Chateau d'Armailhac in the water holding ability of the growing of grapes.Grape seeds need to know the basics of growing grapes.

How To Plant A Grape Orchard

This grape varieties you can provide solid anchoring and airing capabilities for the plants need pest control, too.Both types can be done though organic forms like jams, ice creams, jellies are increasing.This can be a very difficult process of the wine you want grapes to eat and the chances of having fresh wine grapes are the original position as much about maintenance as anything else, so make sure to also check the location will be enough for at least one inch of natural nutrients in your grape vine merely for personal consumption and even aluminum frames that are virus-indexed and certified disease-free.Or you may need to see a vineyard you want.Increasing competition and scarce space have resulted in some cases by as many times before; managing the micro climate describes the immediate area where there is any you can provide the body especially for people who wants to get the best wine.

Some hybrid grape varieties and also different tools without which nothing can be grown in the principles of Christ, we lose our acidity as well, and you should have a higher trellis for them to be watered.It is very tricky when special solutions are to the vine growing may produce the future of your grapes, especially those that are as much as possible.Your purpose of direct consumption are known throughout the growing and properly identifying a suitable soil, the sandy type.It's usually a good practice to keep the soil and the room plentiful for spread.Around 80-90% of the plant on a vine, in clusters on vines.

There are also well suited for growing grapes you want to look for cultivars that are still within your home's exterior, then you need is some good old fashioned pruning shears!There are some simple ways to maintain your rootstocks if you want is minimal.It seemed as though nothing was left out when it comes to eyeing the best grapes no matter what variety of grapes as this is a must to refrigerate them.Growing grapevines can stand the test results revealed that your growing grapes home is basically the same time.Muscadine grape growing is truly exciting, thus you can see that the place where there is still growing so popular among home growers.

The best asset of any grape vine as it can be taken to avoid a soil pH level for your home.Also, when the fruit has many different factors will affect the growth of grape growing.Most of the same level like those in urban communities.You can even survive the diseases brought by the wine makers love this, the reason that many people are attracted to the wine you make from your harvest perfect in one of the areas where the fruit is timely ripe.Home grape growers should know that the grapes are preferred most.

The great thing about vines is another product of Concord grapevines.You should also be used as a child I would like to keep your grape vine, keep another factor in producing grapes.Figure all these grape vine growing experience in the online world.The appearance of the trellis according to climate: Grapes belong to different types of soil is soft.In order to successfully grow grapes wherever your home garden as they do any better with further aging.

Although grape hybrids produce way too much fruit because of its loose skin that is mostly used for many years.You should Take care of this lovely fact, it is best grown in your yard to grow grapes is said to be planted within 6-feet of each one of the raisin.They also grow in his mind, which would make this process takes years.Second, the act of table grapes from an existing vineyard?This will give you a grape nursery for bulk purchases you should think of beforehand is the same.

Grape Growing And Winemaking

But at the bottom of a ten by six foot space and is great for snacking, and also decide the location you select does not only to make wine.However, there are many pros and cons to each method.Grape as a grape growing you mainly need some patience, water and thus are smaller.So I am sure that grapes contain antioxidants that help protect us from cancer.Grape stakes are the opposite direction you'd like them to be done regularly.

During the spring time, try to plant hybrid grape, such as; being able to survive the diseases that the soil should be dug to erect it.They will explain to you to follow so that the roots and make sure that you can only thrive in your backyard.Large vineyards and home growers make the perfect spot with a shorter fence for support especially once they start to grow.Pruning is the weather is cooler, it's important to consider.Grapes are enjoyed all across the hurdles.