#(Freyja is too nice BUT STILL)

[entomolog-t]

GtWAC Day 3 : Poor Summary of a Great Fic

Not one but TWO terrible summaries of the amazing fics from @pocket-ozwynn

If borrower's Game of Throne's was going on in the background of a an overly caffeinated twitch dream girl's stream while she panics over Geralt of Rivia's much smaller but equally handsome distant cousin.

From @pocket-ozwynn's amazing work Offline Valor

With one of the most interesting premises I've read in years, Oz does an incredible job at taking this wild premise and making it a truly hooking read. Despite the comical premise, the fantasy juxtaposed with such a modern environment works so incredibly well- especially with Oz's impeccable writing style. His ability to switch from fantasy to modern to a combination of the two is so interesting and exciting to read.

Oz is extremely talented with tone and Offline Valor exemplifies his skills incredibly well. There is such an incredible vibe that permeates the story, where theres almost a sort of implicit tension that seems to build around these two worlds colliding.

The two leads, Zelly and Rowan, are vastly different, yet their chemistry is so so good.

The golden retriever equivalent of a military dog becomes the World's Biggest Herbo by making herself a human shield for the Government-secret Geek Squad employee. Sparks fly (literally).

From Genesis Day

Genesis day is such a fun ride despite the general tension the plot consistently maintains. While there is a sort of building unease that something is about to happen, Oz still manages to make moments between characters feel fun and easy going- Alice and Freyja especially!

Genesis day to me as a reader feels akin to a love letter of to all those hours spent as a kid fantasizing about fighting Big Bad Monsters in an attempt to both do good and be good.

----

As an Author, Oz has such a fun ability to take these wild and almost goofy sounding concepts and turn them into not only an enjoyable read, but a beautiful read. He has a skill with prose and his descriptions often times read artfully- elegant and poetic, with ethereal imagery and flowery language. This man could write about taking out the trash and turn it into something magical.

[wosoamazing]

Amada Part 3

Freyja Estrella Engen-León

Summary: You get sick

Warnings: Sickness, Vomiting, Mentions of Hospitals

Notes: I was going to post this tomorrow or later but seeming that I reached 1k followers this morning I thought it was only right to post something. Based off this request. (Also idk if this is very good but yeah) 1.4k words

You wake up in the middle of the night and your head feels funny, everything is muffled but not the nice muffled when you have your ear defenders on. It's a weird muffled and you don’t like it. You know you’re not meant to get out of bed at this time because the little clock on your side table is red however you don’t like this feeling and decide to venture out to your Mum’s room anyway.

-

You walk up to your Mumma’s side and tap her lightly, she wakes up instantly and is confused. She doesn’t normally wake up during the night, especially because Mapi is a deep sleeper and you’re very good at sleeping in your own bed, however she wonders if Mapi has woken up because of her leg, but the soft snore that immediately follows that though proves to her that Mapi is well and truly asleep. However when you shift next to the bed she notices you and it finally makes sense.

“Freyja, what’s wrong?” Ingrid asks you and you just shrug your shoulders, knowing she probably isn’t going to get an explanation out of you currently so she just decides to pick you up and place you in their bed, where you immediately snuggle into her chest. It’s something Ingrid is grateful for, they had been told by many people, that autistic children wouldn’t like touch, however it was something you often sought out, and not just for sensory reasons, more for comfort, your OT thinks that you have safe people, who you know and they know you, you trust that they won’t overstep your boundaries and so you enjoy their comfort, knowing you’re safe, your Mumma and Mami are very good examples of that but also Frido and Alexia.

When you wake up you feel even more funny, your very warm, and your head feels all stuffy, Ingrid notices and gives you some kids medicine before taking you to training, knowing that if you were actually sick she couldn’t leave you with Mapi, who still needed to use her crutches to get around.

“Is she okay?” Alexia asks as Ingrid walks onto the pitch having just set you up on the sidelines, with all your usual items plus the addition of some of those cardboard bowls the players get to take home when they get ouchies on their heads.

“We think she might be sick. I couldn’t leave her home with Mapi, she still needs to use her crutches. It would be unfair on both of them. Maps also panics too much. But we aren’t completely sure if she is sick,” Ingrid informs Alexia

“Are you okay? You-” “I’m fine, don’t worry. Where’s Aitana?” “She is sick,” 

Ingrid could tell that the gym was getting to much for you, but she was also worried about how pale your usually tan complexion was and how you had a slightly green tinge to you, she is pretty sure she saw your body roll slightly before your eyes went wide and you press a hand to your stomach.

“Ale, I’m just going to take Freyja to the bathroom, she doesn’t look the best,” Ingrid tells her captain who nods at her and gives her a sympathetic smile.

-

You sit down on the floor of one of the showers with your Mumma and she just talks to you, asking you questions about penguins, trying to calm you down and distract you from the weird feeling inside of you.

Your body rolls as you gag and you looked up at her eyes wide open with panic, “It’s okay Freyja, your body isn’t feeling well and it’s just trying to get rid of the ickiness, just let it happen, it might feel icky and be gross but it will make you feel better.”

You dry heave this time and just shake your head aggressively before tears start spilling from your eyes, “I know, it’s not nice, but you’re doing such a great job.”

You retch again and this time something comes up, Ingrid manages to place the bowl under your chin to catch everything. By the end of it your body is shaking and you’re silently sobbing, letting out a choked out cry every now and then. Ingrid doesn’t know what to do, you’ve never actually been sick before and she knows you are probably already overstimulated so touching you without your ‘permission’ wouldn’t be the best idea.

“Freyja, would you like a hug or do you not want touch,”

“Hug,” you weakly say and it’s all Ingrid needs to pull you in for a hug, which is when she suddenly realised how unwell she is feeling herself, however she needs to get you home, before she can let the sickness overtake her. Ingrid manages to get you changed out of your clothes and into a nappy before she has to sit down, feeling like she was going to pass out, she was ever thankful when both Alexia and Frido walked through the door, as much as she hated admitting she needed help she knew she did, and she knew you were good with both these people and in all honesty if she had to throw up in front of someone at least it would be one of her close friends.

“Can someone take her I-” your Mum had to stop and breathe deeply trying to fight off the nausea, and Alexia immediately scooped you out of her arms and Frido helped your Mum up before guiding her into the bathroom and then into one of the toilet stalls, locking the door behind them.

______

You were lying on Alexia’s chest miserably when Kiera and Lucy entered the locker room. The English women’s faces soften at the sight of you, you're just in a nappy and your skin looks clammy, and your ear defenders sit over your ears.

“We just came to check on you all, it’s been a while,” Kiera said softly.

“Oh, um, Ingrid is sick too, Frido is with her,”

“Do you need any help? We could pack your bags, go get the medics for you,” Lucy offers.

“Ehm, potser, els metges haurien de tenir medicaments per a nens, si només els poguessis aconseguir i tornar-los, seria genial, però només sabor de maduixa, (Um, maybe, the medics should have kids medicine, if you could just get it and bring it back that would be great, only strawberry flavour though)” Alexia told them and Kiera nodded before leaving the room and Lucy decided to help pack up your bag, Frido’s bag, Ingrid’s bag and even Alexia’s bag.

Kiera returns with the medicine bottle and some of it already in the syringe and Alexia quickly nods before taking the syringe off Kiera, she manages to get you to take it, mostly because you felt too bad to fight against the action. Your head felt funny along with your tummy and even with your ear defenders on everything was still weirdly muffled. Your skin felt yucky and you’re thankful you’re only in a nappy, the cool air feels nice against your burning skin and Alexia’s finger ran up and down your back soothing you softly.

It's been four hours since you arrived home, and almost 2 hours since Alexia and Frido took your Mumma to the hospital. You now laid on your Mami’s chest, fast asleep, like you had been for the past four hours. Mapi really wanted to go to the hospital with Ingrid, wanted to help her partner feel better, but you were important too and she needed to be there for you, and if your sickness was anything like Ingrids you weren’t well at all. Ingrid had collapsed in front of the toilet the second she walked through the door and she hadn’t been able to leave since, so Alexia and Frido decided they needed to take her to the hospital to get help and Mapi agreed, wanting nothing more than for you both to be okay.

Eventually after many hours Ingrid returned home, looking better, the medicine and fluids at the hospital had helped however she was now exhausted. She climbed into the bed, immediately curling into Mapi’s side, who still had you sleeping on her chest, before you all fell asleep, sleeping off whatever bug had invaded your family.

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Knackered & Insatiable

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes warning: MDNI, mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood, SMUT Note: I cannot believe how much you guys LOVED Part 1!!! I've written three pieces in my life (check out my Ao3 for my other works lol) and none of them have ever gotten this much of a response. Thank you so much for your praise and overwhelming support, it really means a lot to me as a first-time writer :) Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

Ghost swirled the drink in his glass before lifting his mask up just enough to sip his whiskey. The team had insisted on getting to know his wife before they returned to England and Ghost “stole her away forever”, as they’d put it. He knew damn well, now that she’d met everyone, there wasn’t a chance in Hell she would let that happen. And while he may put on a good show of being a grump about it, secretly, he was glad. It was almost nice to see her mingling with his frie–team over a few drinks (hers being a bottle of water) and a football (she would call it a “soccer ball”, but he digressed). 

He watched Soap, Gaz, and Freyja bobbing around the open space, kicking the ball back and forth, occasionally playing keep away. Gaz slid at her in an attempt to knock the ball loose from her control, which she swiftly countered and danced around him, laughing maniacally as the man shouted at her in protest. His lips tugged at the corner in a grin, shaking his head lightly at her antics.

She’d dressed down into her standard t-shirt but kept her boots and uniform pants on, her hair tied back out of her face. Without her gear or outerwear, even her oversized shirt, her bump protruded slightly where the shirt tucked into her belt. He’d been told that every person carried differently; her bump was small, due in part to her exercise regimen. God, he’d missed her.

He’d even been gracious enough to allow her time to gossip with his teammates, spilling (some) details about their relationship. How they met (work), who made the first move (classified), how Simon proposed (he didn’t); so gracious that he let a few embarrassing remarks slip past his radar.

Just a few.

“Did you know he has stretch marks–”

He whistled through his teeth. “Oi, watch it,” he warned, jerking his hand in front of his neck as to say ‘cut it’.

“But the stretch marks, Si!”

Ghost’s eyes traced her movements, wild hands pointing at her thighs, hips, underarms, and knees. He chastised her with a warning sound, and the three huddled together in whispers, no doubt continuing to quietly discuss topics they shouldn’t. He had a feeling he would be seeing a lot more of his fellow soldiers outside of the base. They eventually continued their game again.

Price took a seat next to him on the bench. Ghost said nothing. “How far along are you now?”

He took a deep breath, calming himself. Bold of Price to ask about the child he willingly endangered. “Fourteen weeks.”

John’s head bobbed, and he leaned back against the building behind them with his arms crossed. “Still struggling with the morning sickness, I see?”

That much was obvious. “The doctor said it should clear up soon. Usually only lasts ‘til ‘bout now,” he explained, still not meeting his eyes, choosing to follow his wife.

Silence passed between the two, the chirps of native bugs and shenanigans from the team filling the air.

The weight of his upper body on his forearms became uncomfortable, and Ghost sat back too. He sighed through his nose, keeping his sight forward. “I didn’t ask you not to call her for this job as your Lieutenant. I asked as your friend.”

John hesitated, mulling over the fact as he carefully chose his next words. He didn’t come up with much. “I know. I’m sorry.” What else was there to say?

Nothing.

Ghost nodded once, satisfied, and threw back the remains of his drink. The most important thing was that she was okay now. He knew the Captain was desperate for another player on that mission, and he was confident Price wouldn’t do it again.

Price seemed to understand that he had been forgiven. “Want another?”

“Negative, sir. She’ll lose steam in a minute.”

Sure enough, as predicted, she gave up her game and relented the ball to Kyle. Soap cheered with his arms in the air, sloshing his beer a bit with the motion. Freyja looked over her shoulder at him and raised a brow, eyes shifting toward their building. He acknowledged her request as she wished the others a good night's rest, rising to follow her to bed. Ghost fell into step a few paces behind her when a sharp whistle caught his ear. He turned his shoulder to look, and saw Soap with his hand out, gripping an imaginary leash with his tongue out as Gaz walked ahead of him like a dog.

He flipped them off and continued behind her.

~*~

The minute they returned to his quarters, Freyja had thrown herself down onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, not even bothering to strip out of her uniform. Ghost took her idea and, in his uniform, carefully straddled her waist. He offered her each of his hands, and she immediately went to work removing his gloves, smiling warmly at him. She gingerly traced the outline of his lips through his mask, a questioning look in her eyes. He accepted and tilted his chin up, allowing her to slip under the edge of the mask, drawing it up and off his head, leaving him with just the black paint on his face. Freyja plopped it on the headboard above them with his gloves.

“There he is.” Her cheeks were warm and rosy from the dry heat of the area, and all of the jogging she did outside.

“Hi, sweethear’.”

She tugged him down by his blonde locks at the nape of his neck, capturing his lips in hers. He dropped his weight onto his forearms, keeping away from her belly while his lips moved slowly against hers. A month had passed since he saw her, let alone touched her. However, when she nipped fiercely at his bottom lip, pulling a soft moan from Simon–

“Love,” he groaned, forcing himself to break away, as much as it pained him. “I don’t have it in me right now. I’m absolutely knackered.”

Freyja turned up a brow at him. “Wow. I’ve never heard that one before. Are you okay?” she asked, rubbing her thumbs against his cheekbones.

His head leaned into her touch, melting in the palms of her hands. The effect she had on him was something he’d never experienced before and was what drew him to the soldier. Quick and cunning, skilled and strong, but also impossibly loving and soft and gentle. Nobody had ever shown him the kind of attention she did, and he found himself craving it when they would inevitably separate for deployment. 

He didn’t want to argue with his wife again after not seeing each other for so long, but the pit in Simon’s chest wasn’t budging either. Simon sighed and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “I was serious when I said I’m pissed.”

“Simon, I know I shouldn’t have–”

“No, just– let me talk.” He brushed a loose hair from her forehead. “I…I don’t ask much of you. I asked – no, told you to do one thing. To stay home and protect our baby.”

Her brows pinched together, maintaining eye contact with him. “Simon, I can take care of myself,” she whispered, a bit confused.

“I know you can. I’ve seen you in the field, seen what you can do. You’re capable of slaughtering dozens of men at a time without breaking a sweat.” Simon rolled his shoulders to move off of her, laying on his back to stare at the ceiling. He rarely got so upset with her, if ever. Even rarer that he became a stuttering mess that couldn’t string a sentence together properly. He hated the feeling. “Why did you do tha’? What if you’d gotten hurt? What if someone comes after you when I’m not around? Wh–”

“Stop. You’re spiraling again.” Freyja turned onto her side, worried eyes studying his features. He’d picked up the habit since the pregnancy tests (seven of them to be exact) turned positive. “I–I know I messed up. I’m so, so sorry, Si. I didn’t…didn’t want to hurt you. I promise I won’t go out again. I just–” Her eyes watered, and she dragged the heel of her palm against the dampness on her cheek. “I’m h-having such a hard time. I love this baby, but I feel so–so useless just sitting at home.”

Oh, sweetheart… “Budge up,” Simon muttered, his voice gravelly as he tapped her thigh and scooched down a bit himself. His right arm slipped under her hip while the other tugged her shirt up to reveal their growing baby. Simon smiled softly at the sight and peppered kisses all over her bump. He eventually nuzzled into her chest and draped her leg over his hip before wrapping that arm around her waist. “I’m sorry I ‘aven’t been round. I know how much you miss work. But just look at this precious thing you’re making, Frey; you’re creating a whole person in there. My strong, drop-dead gorgeous wife and beautiful son–”

“Or daughter.”

Simon’s deep chuckle vibrated against her chest and belly, warmth blooming there. “Right. Or daughter,” he pressed another kiss to her chest. “You’re the strongest person I know. Just you watch. I’ll be home for a good long while now; we can work something out with Price, and get you some desk duty so you’re not sat at home twiddlin’ your thumbs all day. Keep you busy, yeah?”

Freyja nodded in agreement, smiling down at her husband. “Okay,” she croaked, sniffling a bit.

“Good. Now go to sleep, love. I really am knackered.”

“I love you, Simon.”

“I love you too, Frey.”

~*~

Soap rapped his knuckles against the door for his Lieutenant’s quarters after (again) failing to locate Captain Riley in hers. He waited for a breath and was about to knock again when he heard an affirming grunt from the other side of the door.

“Aye, if I see any naked bodies–” He poked his head into the room, finding the two tangled up in each other. Fully clothed, thankfully. He barely caught the bare strip of Simon’s cheek from his angle. He immediately piped down when he realized she was still sleeping. “Lieutenant?”

“Wot?” he grumbled, not moving from his comfortable position. Soft and warm.

John remained silent, eyes shifting between Simon and the sleeping body next to him.

“What do you need, Sergeant.”

“I don’t want to wake ‘er, sir,” he whispered in a hushed voice. He truly didn’t want to face the consequences of waking a pregnant Riley. He was, however, less worried about the wrath of his Lieutenant and more about his other half.

Simon turned his chin up slightly, focusing on her steady, soft breaths and even heartbeat. In the first weeks of her pregnancy, before leaving for deployment, she had taken to sleeping like a rock. Obviously, that fact was still true. He settled back into her t-shirt.

“She’s fine. Speak.”

Soap hesitated but took his word for it. “Ah, Captain said we’re good to go. Wheels up in thirty.”

He grunted again, still unmoving. ”Alright. We’ll be ready.”

He could sense the Scot still stuck in his doorway, continuing to disturb his peace, and his irritation grew. “Quit hoverin’, Johnny. I said we’ll be ready. Get out,” he all but growled.

“Sorry, sir.” Soap turned to leave but stopped himself. “Almost fo’got, wanted to give ya’s a warnin’, it’s pishin’ it doon out there.”

His patience had grown thin and irritability impossibly higher. “Speak. English.”

Soap’s mouth opened with a turned lip, just about to quip a snarky retort–

“It’s raining fuckin’ hard.”

His eyes blew wide, jaw dangled loosely, staring at the previously silent form the soft, sleepy voice came.

“Thank you, love.”

“I—How— Beg your pardon?” John stuttered, pointing between Freyja and Ghost in utter shock.

Her grip on her husband tightened with a groan, eyes fluttering as she tried to adjust to the morning light. “What? What did I do?” she mumbled, curving her back inward to stretch, her neck popping.

“But–I don’t– You know Scots?”

“Oh. I suppose. Cannae ge’ the accent righ’, though,” she said, exhibiting what was indeed her very poor attempt at a Scottish accent.

Still, he gawked at them, unmoving. He eventually snapped out of his reverie, a wicked smile creeping onto his face. “Jesus, I’m sorry Lt. but I think I’m gettin’ hard,” he teased, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth.

Simon blindly reached for the mask above his head, scooting up a bit for a quick kiss before slipping it on. The black war paint around his eyes remained, but more worn and smudged with sleep. The Sergeant Oooh’d in the background. “Johnny, what did I tell you ‘bout flirting wit’ my wife?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed in a sitting position.

Freyja followed him, sitting up and pressing her chest against Simon’s back. She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing her palms across his sternum and abdomen, fingers dipping into the ridges of his muscles. “Simon, you really shouldn’t make threats you don’t intend to keep,” she pressed her lips against the warm skin at the back of his neck. He hummed softly, leaning back into her.

“Who said I won’t?”

“Alright, alright, I’m not tryna cock-block,” Soap threw his hands up in defense, backing out of the doorway. “I’m goin’. Tarmac in thirty.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the couple alone again. Simon moved to stand but was immediately restricted by her arms and legs as she whined. “Can I help you?” he asked, settling back down and glancing at her over his shoulder.

Freyja rose to her knees and tugged at his shirt, untucking it from his waistband. “Maybe,” she said against the side of his throat. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Are you Simon,” her fingers pressed into his waist. She licked a stripe on his thrumming pulse before closing her mouth over the spot, sucking generously. Simon hissed through his teeth and dropped his head against her shoulder. “Or Ghost?”

“God, you are insatiable.”

“Only when you don’t give me what I want.”

“And wha’s that?”

“Been a while since you fucked me stupid, yeah?”

A deep growl tore from him, and he whipped around, pouncing on her. The balaclava and skull plate flew across the room. His lips crushed hers, teeth and tongues smashing together. Rough fingers wrapped around her throat, holding her down to the mattress as he leaned over her. “Your British is fuckin’ shit.”

“Mmm, what’re you gonna do about it?” she challenged, smirking against his mouth. She loved instigating him, even more so now that her hormones were through the roof. The last week at home had been almost unbearable. 

Freyja’s eyelids flickered at the sudden pressure, not enough to cut off oxygen but enough to effectively shut her up. She felt her walls flutter at the sensation, a puddle forming in her underwear.

“Good girl,” Simon practically purred, dragging his lips down to the underside of her chin, nipping at the skin, followed by a soothing lick at the affected spot. His free hand crawled down her body, rising and falling over the various curves before stopping at her pants. “Is this what you want?”

She nodded vigorously, so he swiftly unfastened the fatigues and dove his hand in. “Mmm, so needy for me. I’ve barely even started, sweetheart,” he slipped two fingers through her soaked lips, sucking a bruise at her throat. He ground his aching bulge against the edge of the bed, searching for some relief. Simon swirled tight but lazy circles around her clit with her collected juices, getting a muffled moan. “Like that?”

“Mhm…”

“Use your words, Frey.”

“F-Fuck– Need you, Si, n-now.”

He cocked his head to the side, releasing her throat to unbutton and unzip his pants. “Already? I’m feelin’ a bit, peckish love. Not gonna let me have a taste?” He slid down to his knees, nibbling down over her t-shirt and pulling the zipper of her pants.

“NO!” She shouted, and his eyes shot up to hers with a brow quirked. “N-No, I need you to fuck me. Please, Simon,” she begged, her voice desperate.

“Fast and hard, eh? A’right.” Simon stood, then hooked his hands behind her knees, yanked her to the edge of the bed, and flipped her over, her feet firmly planted on the floor. “Careful,” he pressed softly against her bump, keeping her stomach off the bed.

The sniper growled at him, starting to get frustrated. “Simon, I swear to fucking God– Ah!” she squeaked when a much firmer hand shoved her face into the mattress.

“Naughty girl… I’m getting there. Be patient,” he ordered. He waited until she showed her understanding with another sharp nod. Simon finally pulled her pants and panties down to her knees. “Fuckin’ Hell,” he moaned, admiring the view as he dropped his pants enough to pull himself out, giving himself a few strokes. “Who’s this cunt belong to?” he asked, dragging the tip through her folds.

“You, it's all yours!”

Eager to please, Simon rested one palm on the small of her back as the other slowly eased himself into her. His head dropped back, unable to help the soft moans and whimpers at her walls around him. “F-fuck, never get sick of this sweet cunt,” he stilled himself in her when he bottomed out. “Not even in you for a second ‘n I already wanna cum.”

She pulled her hips forward, desperate for him to move and, as promised, fuck her senseless. Bruising fingers gripped the extra flesh at her hip with a groan. “Naughty,” he repeated, drawing out of her to the tip before diving back in just as slowly. “Maybe if ya beg some more, I’ll give it to ya.”

Freyja whined as his cock dragged painstakingly slowly along her insides. “P-please, please fuck me, Simon. I need your cock so bad. I’m desperate,” she begged, her hands shaking as she gripped the scratchy blanket under her with white knuckles. “Been w-waiting so long for you to come home, please!”

Simon twitched inside her, his wife’s begging scratching just the right spot in his brain. “Ngh, fuck Frey.” He slammed into her, his eyes rolling into the back of his head while he started a steady pace.

“God, Simon, ‘s so good–”

“Look at me,” he said, turning her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Say it again…My name.”

Her smirk almost immediately wiped off her face when he brushed her clit again, eliciting another breathy, gasped moan. “Simon!”

“Mmm, again.”

“S-Simon…fuck!”

“Cum for me, love, cum on my cock. Wanna feel you–”

She stared into his eyes, the sounds of his hips slapping her hips, the wet sounds of her sex thrumming between them, and her heavy pants thrumming between them until she finally pulsed around him, her pitch kicking up an octave. “Ah, Simon, I-I’m cumming, fuck!”

“Jesus fuck–! Y/N, Y/N,” he whined, choking on her name as the tight coil inside him snapped and spilled into her, his hips stuttering. Simon’s chest rested against her back when he dropped his hand next to her for support. He stilled, echoing her name over and over while he pumped her full of his cum. She was grinning back at him over her shoulder and dragging her nails up and down his forearm, humming at the warm pool inside her.

Simon slid his free hand under the back of her shirt, stroking between her shoulder blades. They stood unmoving, panting, staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity. His spend was starting to creep out around him, turning into milky drops threatening to break free and fall to the floor. He could stay like that forever, her gaze holding his as he warmed his cock in her–

“Hey Ghost–”

THUNK

The tip of a black combat knife sank into the soft wood of the door frame, a breath away from his nose. Kyle stopped short of passing through the threshold, the door only open a crack. “Bad time, got it,” he said, his voice cracking a bit before the door clicked shut again. “Sorry!” his voice muffled by the door between them before his footsteps scurried away.

Freyja giggled and pressed her face into the mattress, attempting to stifle her laughter.

“Not funny.”

“Really? I thought it was a little bit funny, Lieutenant,” she said, wiggling her hips against his. Simon’s breath hitched, and both hands shot back to stop the movement.

“Ey, none’a that. Be a good girl or you won’t be getting a thing out of me later,” he threatened, raising a blonde brow in challenge. She pouted up at him in return but nodded with a disgruntled Fine, slowly leaning forward until he popped out of her with a groan. The woman eased herself up until she stood fully and turned to face him, standing on her tiptoes to reward him with a sweet, lazy kiss. When Simon was least expecting, she swiped a finger along his dick, causing him to jerk at his sensitivity, collecting their mixed fluids before popping the digit into her mouth. “You’re a minx, y’know that?”

“Mhm.”

“Hn.” He pulled her panties and underwear back up for her, fingers lovingly caressing their growing baby when he went to button them again. He wasn’t proud to admit that he hadn’t reacted well to the initial news of his wife’s pregnancy. Simon had never wanted children or a family before her, given his experiences with his own as a child. The last thing he wanted was to turn out like his father, an abusive, mean drunk with a violent streak and an inclination for scaring the pants off little Simon. 

That all changed at their first ultrasound. The soft thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoed off the walls of the small room and burned into his mind on a constant playback. His baby. Their baby.

Mine. 

He supposed the second-trimester hormones were a nice touch, too.

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @lethalchiralium, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy

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[magpie-come-east]

Asking why the Hornsent characters are mean to justify their genocide is such a goofy non serious ass take. Well dude perhaps their mean because of said genocide!

It’s bad faith and frustrating to see again and again.

1) There are no ‘kind’ Omen characters. Morgott and Mohg are the only Omen in the Lands Between we have meaningful interactions with that aren’t base mobs. Morgott belittles and threatens the Tarnished. He hunts them down and kills them without pity. It is his duty but he enjoys it. As he dies he mocks the player because they will still fail to become Elden Lord. Mohg tries to immediately kill the player to- presumably- feed the cocoon your blood. And that’s not getting into the murder blood cult he leads.

They are hostile and brutal. But people still find Omen sympathetic. They can rationalize their behavior (Morgott’s, at least) and see how their tragedy shaped them. The Omen didn’t deserve to be killed as babies or banished to a sewer because Morgott and Mohg aren’t good men as their ‘sole’ representatives.

So the Hornsent should be allowed this same grace, too.

2) If one were to actually listen to dialogue from and about the Grandam and Hornsent (NPC), it’s very clear why they are the way they are. Grandam thinks the player- as a non-Hornsent- was sent by Messmer to kill her. Of course she isn’t going to greet you kindly. She thinks her life is about to end! She’s an old and infirm woman trying to protect her peoples’ holy city from a stranger that looks like her oppressor. Why are people so desperate for her to be demure and grandmotherly?

Hornsent (NPC) has deep sympathy from me, honestly. I get the impression that Miquella’s followers don’t take his peoples’ plight very seriously. Dane only suggests fighting Messmer to burn the concealing tree. Not to help his fellow compatriot. Freyja calls him a ‘dour little friend’ which is hideously condescending considering his family was all killed. Like his ‘grumpiness’ is a silly quirk and not a deep-seated wound for him. Leda says that the ‘Hornsent were never saints. They were just on the losing side of a war’. Which, while ultimately true, is a dismissive way to describe the genocide that war was/is.

I think these dialogues show us just how fraught and dire it is to be Hornsent in the present era. Their people are being slaughtered, their culture erased, and everyone around them either wants them dead or just doesn’t give a shit about their circumstances. Why should they perform niceness for anyone?

3) They aren’t even that mean imo. Not by Fromsoft character standards. Like, it’s amazing that Thiollier aggros if you try to tell him what Trina told you, but no one is writing think pieces about Thiollier’s irreedeemability. D’s brother calls Fia a rotten whore after he kills her, and no one is crafting essays about how problematic that guy is. Etc etc.

So, yes. It’s a brainless criticism in my opinion.

[saguaropokevariants]

If you are still doing crackships then how about my lady freyja and Lunar? feel free to ignore this if your crackships are closed :)

I wasn't planning on doing this until next Munday but I couldn't help myself-the idea of cute lil hatchling Lati-Scorbunny hybrids was too cute! So: Here they are!

Being little baby hatchlings, they still have downy feathers-and it's impossible to tell if they'll be a Latias or Latios, even if Dusk looks more Latias! Dusk leans more Lati, including a more beak-like mouth. Though they actually have ear indents! The ear fluff merges like Freyja's. I'd imagine they enjoy hopping around and trying to fly. Perhaps Freyja would teach them? Meanwhile, Dawn leans more Scorbunny-though they still have wings instead of little paws like Scorbunny do. And surprise: Dawn is Shiny! The shiny colors are a combo between Mega Lati's and Scorbunny's, since it's a combo of Shiny Latias and Latios. Dawn likes to kick stones around, and I like to imagine Dusk likes to try and catch the stones in their mouth!

When they grow up, they'll gain their proper coloration of either orangey-red or more greenish red for Dusk, and a nice bright yellow or yellowish green for Dawn!

You're free to take these two cuties if you so please! If you don't I might take them myself lmao, I love these two so much... I can't separate them!

[astarionposting]

FREY

i made him a draconic sorcerer and kartoffels was so nice to share this body texture with me! im debating putting the scales on his face too, but i kind of want it to be something he hides, so maybe i will just keep it to his body. I also changed his hair and scar/eyes a bit so that he isnt a direct copy of freyja, but still a twin :)

[cephalofrog]

my review of every piece of underwear armour I could find in the elden ring DLC

1. soiled loincloth

I like the ropes. I think any great piece of underwear has a mild implication of kink. however with this one being soiled it goes a bit too far into things I'm not into. great for people who are into that kind of thing but it's not really my jam. I like the aesthetics of this one though, the cloth waves in the wind in a rather nice way and it kinda covers up the bottom part which creates an impression of it exposing more than it does. 5/10

2. gravebird anklets

this one is great! the shape is really nice. it's modest but bold, and it has the cloth out front to wave in the wind. I love the ankle bracelets too, they're very fashionable. really no issues here, and it does just enough to stand out. 8.5/10

3. leather leg wraps

I love the skirt, but it's maybe a bit too long to truly count as underwear so it loses points for that. I also don't like how the shoes kinda look like they're tied onto your legs. but the patterning on the skirt is so cute that I have to give it a good amount of credit, it reminds me of a kilt. 6/10

4. igon's loincloth

I'm sorry igon, I love and respect you, but your trunks are just too damn big. they create the impression of being really thick which sounds practical for colder climates, but I think if you care that much about being warm, you should probably wear something that isn't underwear. they also have a loincloth over the trunks, which I guess looks pretty cool but then why have the trunks there? the rope on the feet is good but in my opinion there are much better options in terms of the footwear included. can't see any situation where this one would be better than any other choice. 4/10

5. freyja's greaves

now this is what I'm talking about! these are excellent. leather is a great material, it's unique but also slightly horny. they have a belt included so you can let it all hang loose or absolutely crush whatever you have down there. they have subtle accentuation of the ass. they have fancy sandals included, all business in the front but with exposed calves and toes. these are the underwear that all the other underwear should strive to be. 10/10

6. messmer's greaves

the actual underwear here are lackluster. they're a bit too big and a bit too high up to really stand out. I do like how high the bit at the top of the thighs gets but aside from that they're a bit too big and boring for me. the greaves themselves are lovely though. they lose some points for covering up a lot but they do have toes out and honestly it's worth it for the lovely engraving on them. a solid choice overall but you could do much better on the actual underwear front. 6.5/10

7. horned warrior greaves

the underwear are pretty big but I like the style with the cloth hanging down. the real star of the show here is the greaves themselves, which replace toe exposure with engraved toes. this is bold and interesting but feels a bit like it's going the long way around for something that could be much simpler. I do like the style overall though, and as the best underwear protection-wise on this list, these are a solid choice for people who reject trousers but still want to have some defense. 7/10

[sigyn-foxyposts]

My personal thoughts on "Twilight of the gods season 1"

Before reading I just want to say that these are my opinions alone! By no means am I saying this show can't be your thing, it just wasn't mine when it came to certain parts! Also what I'll be covering can be a bit of a sensitive topic to some. Such as race and sexual topics, I'm here to defend not hate 💚

Art by my darling @sparrowmp4 💚

Pros:

Starting off with the best is the animation and art style! It's smooth and full of movement, absolutely breathtaking! It will truly keep you watching, just to enjoy it. Character design's are pretty good too, though some could've been done better and were in general a bit bland.

It felt boring In a way when you could've done more but I understand it would be hard on the animators. The scenery they chose fits the with the setting of the story they're trying to tell. In all honestly done very well, excellent!

I really appreciate the references to actual mythology and my culture! There wasn't much culture other than how things looked in certain villages but things such as the retellings of the stories we got from written and oral traditions, it made me very happy seeing them here!

I also heavily appreciate the inclusion of Loki's struggles amongst the gods, with himself struggling being "a scapegoat god" and the focus on him trying to save his children from their fate. As well as the portrail on how not even gods are perfect!

They clearly did their research on Loki's character and knew what the fans wanted! I just wish we got even more, but it was rushed and in conclusion a bit shallow. Still, the effort is there & i eat what I get!

I love the representation of minorities in the series. Such as people of color and their different or even mixed heritages! Same goes for different identities and sexualities. They weren't afraid to shy away from bisexuality and transgender representation, which was very common back then and throughout history!

I did enjoy certain characters like the Seid Kona, Egil, Leif and Loki's development throughout the story and how they were written! But again was all bit rushed..

Cons:

They missed out on showing us a lot more gods and how Ragnarok actually went down, even if most of us know by now..where was fumbulvinter for example? And I don't like when people take certain mythology media as fact, it's the biggest issue I have when it comes to modern media taking on mythology and folklore in general.

Do it right, if not then let it be!

While I love the representation we got of POC people, the way it's ONLY set in a norse setting bothers me. Yes, the story is centerd around the norse but like..we could have had more representation of other cultures too just saying! They were traveling so much, even a reference would've been nice.

No what we get instead, which yeah can work since the vanir are magic and nature based is plant people (I get the thought behind it!) They make the representation we want plant people. Where only two vanir members that look human.. are people of color. What was the point of all that seriously!

Where are the other people of color..?

Now don't get me wrong, Tyra makes sense in this case because we don't know where she came from and that leaves thing for interpretation, I absolutely love that! What's very icky was that Freyja who is presented as a black woman here, is Tiwaz's sister (Basically Freyr idk why his name is a rune now..) and called herself a slave when talking about how Odin married her for her magic... Yikes!

I didn't appreciate how Fafnir was slain either and the fact Sigird killed Baldr when Hodr could've been included so easily in the battle. I honestly think Freyr, Hodr, Hoenir and many more deserve justice, especially those who were completely forgotten like Idunn, Nanna, Forseti, Thrud ect.

Oh and dont get me started on Angrboda and Sigyn here, I'm just happy Boda even got an appearance in the first place, but that isn't enough to be honest! Like all she did was be the poor mother who couldn't protect her children, nothing more to her character even though she's from the ironwoods that we saw in this series.. where was she after those events?! Most likely dead, which would add up. Let's hope Sigyn gets a better appearance!

I don't mind original characters but..when it comes to the point in retellings, do it in a way that makes sense please!! Make the original characters for example meet Sigurd, Fafnir's slayer instead of killing him off! What would their interaction be like? While I understand the main plot and focus was on Sigird taking her revenge on Thor.

It felt a bit boring.. Like yeah, girlboss with a tragic backstory and she can't cry. It feels a bit Mary Sue of her, not only that but they're a bit over powered too!

Here comes another part I've been dreading..the "interesting" interpretation of Jormi and Thor's fate to kill each other at Ragnarok. It felt very forced and weird making them have a sexual relationship, like sure it's a creative twist I guess but..the way the prophecy claimed that Ragnarok would end the gods if Jörmungandr would spill Thor's seed. That's not at all the case and just disgusting!

What hurts me the most about this topic is Loki's attempts to take her place, but how the prophecy wasn't meant for him. Killing Thor was the only way to free their family, so even if it meant death, she did what had to be done. Worse, she was only a child when Thor physically beat her when she tried defending her family..i didn't need that!

This plot felt more like an excuse to add in more sex to a show with too many of those scenes already! Than giving the representation that matters, people forced to do these things just to help their family.

I'll admit Thor's portrayal was somewhat accurate, it just wasn't done the way I had expected it! (Take that as you will)

Yes he has flaws and the gods aren't perfect! Yes, he is a brute who murdered many jotuns and drinks lots of mead with an appetite. Yes, he has anger issues.. And yes he cheated on Sif. That doesn't mean he has to abuse his own kid or have his marriage with Sif go that low. What's worse is when you realize Sif knows he is activity cheating and letting herself be insulted by Thor. When she literally wants Thor dead, she admits she also needs him for the sake of her purpose.

Now, toxic relationships are real and this is a great example but keep in mind that in actual mythology he was willing to break every bone in Loki's body for him simplely cutting off her hair! And he has a tendency to be over protective of his family like in the story where Alvis purposes to Thrud, his daughter! His characterization is certainly something and I hope we get more because when he started crying over his issues and actions.

It screamed, toxic masculinity in my face.

I don't know what was happening behind the scenes but the relationships were developing a bit fast and while I don't mind starting a story on a relationship, the way things were going between Leif and Sigird didn't make me feel much for them in the end. Yeah it's not easy to be a perfectly functioning couple after you lost your whole family because you two were getting married. But when he comforts you, saying you're allowed to grieve and follows you on your revenge trip even though he didn't want to but did it for you!

Also I love my poly rep but making Thyra be a part of their already dysfunctional relationship was a bad move. Thanks for the fake hope you gave Leif actually living a better life with just her. It was so obvious she was into women from the start..why??

I had to sympathize with Leif even more when Sigrid physically hurt him, all because he opened up about what he felt and was done with her crap. Sadly that sympathy went away the moment he decided to waste everything on a woman that cared more about revenge then him.

Finally last point, I very much dislike how characters we were supposed to bond with get killed off so suddenly? Not only weren't they fully developed like Ulfr and Anvari but they had to die for what? Do they come back for the plot later on because I'd certainly hope so!

I don't know if they'll make up for all of these plot lines but since it landed on a cliff hanger, it's definitely coming back. Let's cross our fingers for season 2 to be better and clear things up!! Thank you for reading 💚🤞

[justhilary123]

Curse of the WereMouse Chapter 8

*The courtyard*

*Freyja was cornered by Mickey the WereMouse*

Freyja: Look, Mickey. I know what it’s like to be different. When I saw the movie, Beauty and the Beast, I was scared when they first saw the Beast. But, after he saved Belle from a pack of wolves, they slowly warm up to one another. And also, I don’t know if there’s anything left in you inside that scary werewolf monster. But, if there is, I just wanted you to know that we all really like you, as a friend. And Minnie even likes you too. And you will and always be a forever friend, no matter what.

Mickey: *grabs Freyja*

Hilary: Oh no! Freyja!

Alexander: *he and the others watch from down below* I can’t look.

Minnie: Freyja! Look out!

Freyja: *screams*

Mickey: *howls and licks Freyja*

Freyja: Okay. That was less painful than I expected. It really is you, Mickey!

Pluto: *barks and noticed the antidote*

Freyja: *gasps* The antidote!

Hilary: Freyja! Hurry! Time’s running out!

Freyja: Oh. Right! Okay, Mickey. Sit!

Mickey: *sits down*

Freyja: Stay! Stay! Good boy! You stay here while I get the antidote!

Mickey: *whimpers*

Freyja: Nice work, Pluto! You found the antidote! And you know what. I don’t feel scared anymore.

Mickey: *lets out a loud powerful howl*

Freyja: Aah! Okay. Now, I feel scared again! *screams*

Hilary: Freyja! Now!

Freyja: *screams as she tossed the antidote in the air*

*The antidote hits Mickey and he slowly returns to normal*

Mickey: *grunts*

Colin: She did it!

Josephine: She cured Mickey!

Minnie: Way to go, Freyja!

Ethan: I always knew Freyja would do it!

Leela: Yeah! Me too!

Freyja: *screams*

Hilary: Freyja! You can stop screaming! Mickey’s back to normal! *noticed the sun rising* And look, we made it before sunrise.

Freyja: *stops screaming and noticed the sun rising* I did? I mean, we did. Alright! We cured Mickey before sunrise!

*The others raced downstairs to congratulate their friends for saving Mickey.*

Mickey: Oh. My aching head! What happened?!

Minnie: Mickey! You’re back to normal!

Pluto: *runs over and licks Mickey’s face*

Mickey: Aww, Pluto! It’s good to see ya too!

Hilary: Wait. Where’s Wallace McDuffy!

*Two men came by carrying Wallace McDuffy in a stretcher*

Leela: After Colin and Josephine knocked Wallace out with tranquilizer darts, we called the police and told them what Wallace was up to. They understood and said that they’ll take it from here.

Wallace: Just five more minutes, honey!

Ethan: He won’t be bothering us or that werewolf, or should I say, WereMouse anymore.

Mickey: Seriously guys. What happened.

Leela: You got attacked and turned into a WereMouse, Mickey!

Hilary: If it weren’t for us, we would never have cured you before sunrise.

Freyja: But, I’m glad we did!

Eliza: I think we’re all glad!

*The kids along with Mickey, Minnie and Pluto all share a hug*

*A few days later*

*Mickey’s house*

*Hilary came to visit Mickey early one morning*

Hilary: Hello, Mickey!

Mickey: Good morning, Hilary!

Hilary: Hi, Mickey! *hugs Mickey* Still can’t believe it’s been a few days.

Mickey: It certainly has. *suddenly, his tummy rumbled* Whoa! I don’t know about you. But, what do you say we go get some breakfast. Cuz, I’m hungry!

Hilary: That sounds good to me! Hey! Think maybe after breakfast, we’ll go meet up with our friends at the park.

*They head to the kitchen for breakfast*

*The park*

*Alexander, Eliza Kirby and Minnie are waiting for Mickey and Hilary to show up*

Eliza: *sees Mickey, Hilary and Freyja coming* Hey, look. There they are! And there’s Freyja!

Colin: Hey, guys!

Josephine: Glad you could make it!

Hilary: We’re just talking about how it was only a few days since we cured Mickey when he turned into a Werewolf.

Minnie: *hugs Mickey* It’s great to have you back, Mickey!

Mickey: Aww! Gee. It feels good to be back to normal!

Freyja: What do you say we go and have some fun. I think we all deserve a little celebration.

*The kids along with Mickey, Minnie and Pluto agreed with that idea. Later tonight, they were enjoying the beauty of nature at night.*

Freyja: *sighs*

Mickey: Something on your mind, Freyja?

Freyja: After all we’ve been through, we still find ourselves out here at night, even when there’s a full moon. And it always always makes us think of werewolves.

Minnie: You think they know better.

*The kids all stared at the full moon.*

Mickey: Ready, everybody?

Hilary: If it means to celebrate us saving you from your werewolf curse and Wallace McDuffy. Let’s share this moment together. Forever!

*The kids along with Mickey, Minnie and Pluto all howled at the full moon.*

(The end)

[stxr-bxy]

pagan marauders hcs

in this universe paganism/real witchcraft = wizarding world and paganism is actually respected as a religion

most of them are hellenists but there are also roman and norse gods too

james

- works with athena

- he just loves powerful women

- or women in general tbh

- also works with apollon bc he’s the sun

- not super religious but goes to temple every Wednesday to visit the athena alter and on Sundays for the apollon alter

- makes a stupid amount of moon water because he uses it all the time

- no clair or psychic abilities but is very intuitive

- i imagine he got into hellenismos because euphemia is part greek (hence her name)

sirius

- prefers roman mythology over greek but is eclectic/neo pagan

- she works with Dionysius because they’re both drama queens and Venus because she helped him with embracing his femininity and feeling confident

- wears a carnelian necklace all the time bc she’s ✨that girl✨

- when she first quit weed she would smoke lavender because it puts you to sleep without causing highs

- goes to temple with friends to hang out and leave offerings

- had really strict catholic parents but never felt very connected to the church and god never really interacted with him no matter how many times he reached out

- his parents don’t think that being pagan = devil worship but they’re those people that think any god except theirs is a demon trying to hurt ppl

- was one of those tiktok witches for a while but then realized that witchtok is shit for information

remus

- he’s jewish but he’s still a witch so he still counts for this

- burns a lot of sage bundles

- Sirius sometimes goes to temple(jewish) with him so he’s not alone but most of the time he goes with his parents

- was actually smart about his journey and immediately bought books because social media is mostly bullshit

- he’ll sometimes go to his friend’s temple(pagan) with someone (usually sirius) when their other friends aren’t going or are working

- he’s very supportive and does have some idea of what’s going on

- except he keeps asking who some people are like some obscurer gods or mortals from myths

- “who’s selene again?” “for gods sake remus you ask this every time” “sorry. but still who is she” “the moon goddess remus…” “oh yeah”

- claircognizant, he just knows things

peter

- he was raised pagan because his moms are pagan (peter has two moms argue with the wall)

- works with freyja and demeter and goes to temple on thursday and friday for both

- he and marlene go for nature walks when it’s nice out and they sometimes look for crystals when they walk

- one time he found a really big quartz and took it home (he asked first ofc)

- also believes in animism and loves animals

- has a cat named luna (i have a cat named luna so i am projecting)

- clairvoyant, has visions and prophetic dreams

lily

- was raised jewish and even though she went along with it when she was young she didn’t really feel connected to god so she converted to hellenismos when she was 15

- works with persephone and aphrodite (i know they don’t get along but it’s fine because they’re not on the same altar)

- goes to temple on mondays and fridays for persephone and aphrodite

- meditates a lot and likes to make sure her chakras are aligned (i know chakras originate from hinduism but i’m pretty sure they’re an open practice any hindus can correct me in comments or rbs)

- loves rose quartz and opal

- always does her crushes astrology charts to make sure they’re compatible

- one of those girls with lots of incense

- when she was crushing on mary she wore so much rose quartz and carnelian to get her to notice her

- lowkey scared of tarot bc it’s way too accurate, she prefers oracle cards

- wears pentacle necklaces for protection

mary

- works with medusa (because of the hc that mulciber sa’ed her so she likes her story) and aphrodite

- veils on holidays and when she goes to temple

- reads tarot for people as a side hustle

- loves florida water and uses it a lot because she’s latina

- wears her evil eye/nazar a lot

- has a little home guardian statue and it’s a statue of a little cat

- bought her first veil from amazon and it had such a bad energy that she couldn’t cleanse out so she just threw it away

- when she goes to the beach she looks for shells to put on her aphrodite alter

marlene

- works with hekate and persephone

- has always loved the idea of witches since she was a little girl

- her parents were also strict catholics but marlene never believed in god, she knew somewhere deep down that he wasn’t as real to her as her gods

- her parents basically thought that witchcraft was the devil’s work and they never approved of it, they still don’t but now they’re used to it

- meditates during the full moon

- makes devotional playlists for her deities

- has lots of crystals because “i just think they’re neat”

- avoids doing shadow work but then her deities get mad so she reluctantly does some

- one of those girls who has rusty nails and dead bugs just so she can hex your ex

- clairaudient, was always confused by the ringing in her ears and what it meant

regulus

- works with hades and persephone

- loves the myth about them

- his parents raised him catholic but he stopped believing in god pretty quick because his prayers were never answered

- loves it when mary gives him tarot readings

- prefers runes to tarot but still likes tarot

- goes to temple on mondays because of persephone

- he talks with lily and marlene about persephone a lot and celebrate her return together

- his favorite holiday is yule because he loves all of the folklore surrounding it and the trees

- he used to charge his rose quartz in the sun because he didn’t know you couldn’t do that and then the color faded so he stopped doing that

- does lots of shadow work because he’s fucked up in the head

pandora

- a lot of people think she works with gods like iris or aphrodite but she actually works with nyx and hekate

- does scryings for people

- clairsentient, always picks up on other people’s emotions and the vibe of a room

- goes to temple on saturdays for hekate and with reg on mondays because the services include nyx and persephone

- one of those girls who used a spirit/ouija board and then all of witchtok came for her

- very experimental, uses egg shells in hexes and stuff like that

- also works with the fae and leaves them offerings for ostara and litha (and just in general)

- gives people little rocks and crystals she finds

- little kids love her and they always have such a good energy

- makes art of her deities

barty

- italian folk witch and pagan

- always wearing his nazar to protect from il malocchio cause he doesn’t fw that shit

- works with hades and hermes

- he’s half italian on his mom’s side so he got his practice from her

- uses people’s hair in his spells and no one knows where he gets it from

- “barty why the fuck is my hair in your spell jar?” “idk man…” “liar”

- messes around with tarot and runes when he’s bored

- goes to temple on mondays with reg and pandora and wednesdays for hermes

- clairvoyant (to go along with the seer barty hc)

- mabon is his favorite holiday because food

dorcas

- works with selene and hekate

- her and marlene love talking about hekate and honestly they could talk about her all day

- lowkey wanted to work with freyja at one point but she already has enough deities

- veils a lot for spiritual protection, can be as simple as a bandana or her hair braided but she likes regular veils too

- one of those girlies who walks barefoot in the forest

- grows her own herbs in her garden

- selenophilic

- needs to know everyone’s big 3

evan

- not super religious but still a witch

- he mostly does kitchen witchcraft

- he makes simmer pots and uses herbs when cooking

- hangs rosemary over his front door to protect

- has a cinnamon broom

- mops with rosemary water

- can’t meditate for more than ten minutes because he gets distracted or has an itch or something

- forgot to mention he worships luna, solass ( idk how to spell it) , and the mother (moon, sun, and earth)

- avid pentacle wearer

[vikingsarememes]

Of Broken Rabbits - Part 2

Previous part

Characters: Ivar “the Boneless” Ragnarsson x Reader, Ubbe Ragnarson

Summary: You are still locked in your chamber, Ubbe visits you to convince you to survive, and eventually you were convinced, and Ivar, well, he is trying to be kinder

Word count: 1251

Warnings: mention of abuse and bickering

A/N: none

Credits: photos from Pinterest, editing app is picsart

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

The day had passed, all of the maidens’ attempts to convince you to accept Ivar’s offer failed, you felt yourself grow weaker within the hour, too tired to lift a limp, the day became two and two became three, that’s when you had an unfamiliar visitor, Ubbe, you recognized him from the doomed wedding “Y/N, you look awful” he had told you, you glared at him weakly “what are you doing to yourself? Is this really how you wish to pass?” you nodded “Freyja will have mercy on me” you replied, he laughed “Freyja couldn’t care less about her subjects, otherwise, Ivar would’ve been different” 

You looked at him with teary eyes, you were about to cry if you weren’t too dehydrated and tired “look, Ivar… he has a unique way of showing his feelings, one minute he is the sweetest, the second he wants to burn everyone alive, don’t allow yourself to die a meaningless death because of his tantrum” you didn’t say a word “what is it that he wanted anyways? For you to look nice and eat with him? You can do it, live another day to fight another fight”

His words  made sense, the closer death is, the more you realized, if you die, then it is another girl who will fall a victim of his “bring her mead” he requested from the maidens who obeyed immediately, he took the jar and placed it near your mouth “drink, believe me, this act of bravery is not worth it” 

Spiteful, you drank the mead, emptied the jar, Ubbe smiled at you, he got up and looked at the maidens “help the queen into a gown, she will be dining with us tonight” they obeyed, and you allowed them to dress you and fix your looks, the problem was not you, your death would’ve been meaningless, the problem was your husband, his death would mean something, a better life for the people of Kattegat and ensuring that no woman or maiden will go through his cruelty again.

When you entered the great hall with Ubbe by your arm, guiding you to your rightful seat, all eyes were focused on you, especially Ivar’s, his feelings were mixed between relief and anger “look, my beautiful bride is feeling better” he exclaimed, people cheered, once you were seated, the food rushed to you, of all kinds, drinks as well, Ivar remained quiet.

The night went smoothly, few cheered for you getting better, you guessed Ragnarsons told them that you fell ill, Ivar tried to keep his distance as much as possible besides a few stairs, mainly to make sure that you are still alive, you remained quiet aside from sharing pleasantries with the people of Kattegat.

Returning to your room, you felt your heart clenching, unsure of his reaction, he limped to the bed and took off his braces, and rested his feet on the mattress, you saw the pained expressions on his face, you undressed yourself and re-changed to your nightgown then laid on your side of the bed, ignoring his existence, however, gods had different plans.

“I’m glad you didn’t die out of stupidity” he mumbled, his eyes forward, looking at the fire “you are so stubborn, it is tiring! Why can’t you just accept our lives the way it is?” you scoffed and turned to face him “life? What life? You don’t talk to me, you hit me and we are not even wedded for a month, you stole me from me from my village and you starved me to death!” 

The king rolled his eyes “in my defense, you starved yourself and disobeyed me” you looked at him angrily “I’m supposed to be your wife, not your subject! You supposed to respect me, care about my wellbeing, I’m supposed to be your wife” he furrowed his eyebrows “I respect you, I never humiliated you in front of anyone, I always praise you in your presence, and it’s not like you respect or care about me!” 

The man was getting on every nerve you have, you couldn’t hold back your tongue “are you fucking kidding me? I literally tried to be kind to you and I was met with a don’t tell anyone what happens in the  bedroom, I tried to care for your wellbeing and you hit me! Tell me, what respect can remain with actions like this?” you snapped “I apologized!” he snapped back “saying you are sorry is one thing and meaning it is another!” you attacked back “gods I wish I never met you!” he groaned, shifting to his side of the bed, giving you his back “oh believe me it’s the most mutual feeling we have” you did the same.

You tried to sleep that night but you couldn’t, you kept shifting on the bed, uneven from the days you laid still and waited for your death, Ivar was sensing every movement, it was no surprise when he groaned and sat, glaring at you “woman enough!” he demanded, you rolled your eyes “i’m trying to sleep, not my fault” he rolled his eyes “of course, nothing is ever your fault” he said sarcastically, you wished you had a dagger next to you to stab him right there.

You didn’t reply, he took a deep breath, calmed himself down, and laid down, his attention focused on the ceiling, quiet, for a minute or so “I’m sorry, I’ve been treating you roughly, when I’m mad I don’t see what’s in front of me” he mumbled, you shifted and looked at him “almost sincere” he frowned “it is sincere!” it was, you could feel it, you simply didn’t want to let it go that easily.

He shifted to look at you instead of the ceiling “let’s start over, pretend the last month never happened” you hesitated “I will be kinder to you, I will be a better husband” your hesitation grew, but those piercing blue eyes were making it difficult for you to remain mad at him, you still wanted him dead, but you wanted to believe that he had more to him aside from being a complete psychopathic king.

You sighed and nodded, he offered a gentle smile “thank you Y/N” you didn’t reply “let us spend some time tomorrow, just the two of us, we can do whatever you wish�� you wanted to list things you wanted to do, like walking in the fields, swimming in the rivers, playing with the children, but you knew none of these activities was an option anymore, not with your so called husband at least, you thought for a moment “we can go to that farm I saw across from here, with the small abandoned house, we can spend the day there together” he nodded “I will send the servants to prepare it for us at once” you shook your head “let us not, you are the one who said we should do as I wish, and I wish for us to be alone and uninterrupted”

He raised an eyebrow at you “you are a queen, you shouldn’t do mundane chorus like cooking and cleaning” you shrugged “for tomorrow, I’m not a queen and you are not a king, we are a man and a woman” it took him a minute but eventually he was convinced, you grinned, perhaps, away from the flashiness of a ruler’s life, a different side of your husband will appear, a side that made Freyja certain of the wellness of this match.

[carmennivis]

She looks down at her partner for a second, trying to hold her laughter as she clears her throat. "Remember Freyja-- stay serious, will you?" The goddess would remind herself. "So, you're the one i have to speak to these next 2 days? Very well-- let's start and get to the point. How do you prefer to pass the time?"

Nils had been sitting on the slightly too large chair, swinging his legs back and forth. (Remember, no matter who you meet, give them a smile. You got an easy topic! You can do this!)

This was going to be Nils’ attempt at connecting more with other people. While he’s friendly enough to classmates, he’s still mostly kept to himself besides the people he already knew. “Hello! It’s nice to.. meet you.” Although he smiled, for a moment he stopped mid sentence when he felt an unpleasant chill run down his spine.

It seems like God still hates Nils, because the first person put in front of him was a frankly terrifying woman that not only towered over him but also exuded a deep malevolence. If the horns were not enough of a cue, that alone told Nils that this woman was not human. However, he noted, she did she carry the essence typical of dragons either.

“Er. Um…” He stumbled over his words, his nerves causing his throat to feel like it tightened up. He ended up taking a deep breath before attempting to speak again. “I’m.. actually a bard, you see?” He started with a forced smile. “So most of my free time is dedicated to maintaining my flute or practicing a new song.”

Okay, he wasn’t dead yet, that’s a good thing right? If it wasn’t the woman herself he felt like his heart might give out. He spent his entire life listening to his 6th sense, using it to protect Ninian and himself from danger. Ignoring it like this, and purposefully engaging with the danger his power actively tries to protect him from certainly is.. stressful.

“So.. how about you? How do you spend your free time, Milady?”

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 9

summary: post-mission drinks and another flashback :) call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: WE'RE BACK AGAIN! I'm super proud of this chapter (it may be my longest!) so I hope y'all like it :') Some of you may recognize a scene in the flashback from the original MW franchise, and you would be correct! I used that as a loose outline for a little Ghost/Freyja (pre-call sign) moment A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @halfmoth-halfman for being the best betas and @peachesofteal for always spitballing. Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

Freyja checked on Arthur in his crib one final time, confirming that the little baby was still sound asleep, before closing the door to her bedroom with his monitor in hand. After arriving home following the gala mission, Freyja relieved Gaz of his babysitting duties and finished putting her son to bed while Simon took the first shower. They quickly swapped out so he could check on Joan and she could wash her makeup off.

As she came down, Soap was already sitting on the opposite end of the couch as Gaz, a glass with a hefty pour of amber liquid in hand. His mohawk was damp, indicating he must have showered in their guest bath. Her husband was leaning back in their oversized armchair, dressed in sweats and a black tee. God, if their friends weren’t there…

Freyja positioned herself between his open legs and leaned down, hands resting on either side of Simon’s head, to briefly press their lips together.

He inhaled softly through his nose and brushed his thumb against her bare thigh. “Mmm,” he hummed, then broke off the kiss. “Hi, love.”

“Hi…” She shifted down to join him, bent legs draped across his lap as she cozied up. “How’s Joan?”

Simon reached his open hand around her knees until it came to rest on her outer thigh. “Sound asleep. Gaz did a good job-”

“Make out!” Soap interrupted, smiling into his glass as he downed his drink. “I’ll give ye a hundred pounds.” 

Her husband sent the sergeant a pointed look accompanied by a signature eye roll.

“No.”

“Awe, c’mon!” Johnny whined, head thrown back. “Ah’ve never seen ye winch for real!”

“I’m not a whore,” Freyja started, raising a brow at Simon. “But a hundred pounds is a hundred pounds. I’ve fucked you in public for less.”

He chuckled softly at that, starting to rub her freshly moisturized leg, drawing circles with his fingertips. “You fuck me in public for free,” Simon pointed out with a long, lingering kiss on her cheek. The motion sent shivers up her spine that she purposefully chose to ignore.

“CLAM UP!”

“You’re the one who asked me to make out with my husband, you perv!” Freyja cried, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. Simon still had his nose buried by her ear, his deep timber chuckling softly in her ear. Jesus Christ. 

“Because I’m sad and horny and miss my boys!”

Roach and Kӧnig were gone on a mission for two weeks. Two weeks without sex had Soap that pent up?

“Soap, I think you have a problem.”

“And why would I indulge you after the performance you put on tonight?” Simon asked, his touch slowly creeping further and further up her leg. Between her and the chair, his opposite hand settled nicely against the snap of her back.

Valid point. The groping and kissing had been a lot.

“I’m sorry! Ah was just tryin’ tae do you both a favor!”

“Nah, she won’t do it.” Gaz crossed his ankle over his knee, wearing a boyish grin and egging her on. Per usual, for Kyle Garrick. “I know for a FACT he tops. No way Ghost is a bottom bitch.”

“Occasionally.” His nose traced the shell of her ear, and his fingers dipped under her pajama shorts. After their meeting in the gala bathroom, if he kept going on the path he was on–

“He whimpers, too.”

“Liar!”

“You two are insuffer–”

Simon Riley was an expert in many areas, including but not limited to shutting his wife up; firm, dominant kisses usually did the trick. And if they wanted a show…

His free hand left her back to gently cup her cheek, in stark contrast to the tongue prying her surprised lips open and lapping into her mouth. Freyja’s eyes fluttered closed, and she let herself melt into his touch, following his lead. She kissed him back with equal fervor, nibbling at his plush lower lip and lacing her fingers through the hair at his nape. It never ceased to amaze her how easily the man under her could turn her into a puddle, soft and pliable in the palm of his hand.

At least thirty seconds of swapping spit had passed by the time Simon’s hand pushed her bottoms up a bit. What they were doing could barely be called a kiss, treading more on the side of a sloppy makeout session. He pawed at her ass, fingers digging into the stretch-mark-ridden flesh before dragging Freyja into his lap, guiding her to straddle him. Just as she sank her weight onto his hard crotch for some release–

“Oooh, steamy.”

Simon pried himself off her, restraining the urge to moan as Freyja moved down his neck and choked, “Sergeants, see yourself out.”

“Cannae drive, mate! We’re hammered, and it’s just gettin’ good-”

“Then go upstairs,” he all but growled, using his hands to roll her hips against his. The quiet moan against his shoulder wasn’t lost on him. “Cause I’m gonna fuck my wife. Plug your ears while you’re at it.”

Kyle, the intelligent man he was, popped off the couch with a salute and marched upstairs. He had seen what he needed to see and wasn’t keen on watching live-action porn.

“Why cannae you go upstairs?”

Freyja sat back to give herself enough room to grab the hem of her husband’s shirt and yank it up his torso. Her chest was heaving with gentle pants, Simon looking up at her with that cocky smirk of his in response to her desperation. What did he expect, for her not to be horned up after getting tossed around in that bathroom?

“M’goin’!”

“Wise choice.”

The couple kept themselves quiet, allowing adequate time for their guests to get to a safe distance. Another well-placed grind of her damp shorts against his hard cock pulled a sharp sound from the lieutenant, and he hurriedly finished ripping his shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. Freyja couldn’t help the proud smile that pulled at her lips, her chest warming up at the power she held over him.

Several years ago

The lieutenant’s arrival in England was unceremonious. Laswell brought her through to John Price’s office and introduced the two. Strong energy radiated off of him, the presence of a skilled leader. He wouldn’t be difficult to work with; hopefully, she could use her time there to learn a thing or two from the captain that she could use on her track up the ranks. The trio went on a tour around the base, where she met Gary Sanderson – callsign “Roach” – who she became fast friends with due to her affinity for British Sign Language.

Then there was Ghost.

John didn’t offer anything other than the man’s callsign. She found it hard to believe someone of his stature could be likened to anything resembling a ghost, but she had seen crazier things during her service. The black ski mask with a skull print was a choice, but not dissimilar to the black gater she sported at the time.

In the days following her arrival, the lieutenant did her best to bond with her new team members, even though the arrangement was temporary. Roach wasn’t a problem, and even their superior made an effort to get to know her and her ambitions, even her personal life. 

“No call sign?” Price asked, having already read over the file Kate had sent over.

She shrugged noncommittally. “I haven’t found one that fits me yet. I just go by whatever designation I have for the mission.”

“Bravo-one it is.”

Ghost, on the other hand–

The sergeant proved her first impression wrong. How did the giant of a man manage to disappear whenever she entered a room? However, Ghost didn’t always vanish, and she couldn’t figure out a pattern. It was as though he was intentionally steering clear of her presence, but only in certain situations.

She would be correct.

One of the first things the team did was head to the gym to familiarize themselves with the others’ techniques and skills in combat. With Price, Roach, and Ghost already knowing each others’ affinities, that left the lieutenant to showcase hers. Price wanted to give her a challenge, to see how she would handle someone who clearly overpowered her. Ghost was the obvious choice, at six-foot-four and change and two-hundred-plus pounds.

She won the first round, although barely. She was good, and Ghost hadn’t dared underestimate her before stepping into the ring. She’d somehow wrenched herself out of his grip and onto his shoulders, with her thighs locked around his neck effectively enough for him to tap at her hip. Ghost won the second, taking more time than he would have liked to pin the lieutenant on her back, securing her hands above her head and holding her down with his body weight.

He could take the damned heavy breathing and mischievous eyes staring up at him through her lashes. But when “Good job, Sergeant” slipped past her lips and planted itself firmly in his brain, he leaped off the woman as if she was on fire. His cargos did a good enough job concealing the raging hard-on he sported during the rest of the evaluation, but they didn’t ease Ghost’s suffering as he had to stand there and avoid her occasional glances.

While the newcomer was learning the ropes of the base and making friends, Ghost was preoccupied. He was putting in a considerable effort to not think about her; the mask covering the lower half of her face, her pretty eyes above that black mask, her chest in the tight shirt she arrived in–

Pull yourself together.

He was doing well for a while. Ghost made it six whole hours without popping another boner. Then there was the interrogation.

That night, Roach and Price picked up a cartel member from the cell they were trying to locate. The captain paired Bravo-one, her temporary call sign, and Ghost on the interrogation. Hard to avoid me now, huh? she thought to herself as they approached the room, Ghost pausing just before the door. She wasn’t exactly sure what she had done to make him so avoidant, but she couldn’t be bothered much then. They had a job to do.

With a hand on the knob, the man with the skull plate looked over his shoulder at her. “If you’d like to do the talking–”

“No, thank you.”

Ghost raised a brow under his mask, watching her roll up her sleeves.

“No?”

“I can be persuasive.”

She ignored the expression she couldn’t quite place and waved her hand, directing him to open the door. “After you, Sergeant.”

The pair split off, Ghost immediately going to their captive’s chair, the other hovering by the duffel bag in the corner, packed with various tools and weapons. The one she picked up and inspected for any dents or abnormalities made Ghost’s brain twitch. Well, maybe not his brain–

“And who’s the looker?” the stranger asked, licking his lips. “You’d be prettier if you took the mask off, baby.”

“That’s my lieutenant,” Ghost replied, leaning on one of the metal chair’s arms. “She’s here to make sure you tell me what I want to know.”

“And what exactly would you like to know, Sergeant?”

“Easy question.” He leaned down into the dealer’s bubble, close to his ear. “I just want your boss’s location.”

The man whistled lowly, shaking his head as he clicked his tongue. “Now, that, I can’t do,” he said with a shrug. “Unfortunately for you, this routine won’t work for me. The bad cop smacks me around; the good cop comes in with an offer to save the day – been there, done that. Maybe if you sweeten the deal with that lovely piece of–”

“You’re mistaken,” Bravo-one interrupted his monologue, stepping away from the corner and further into their witness’s line of sight. “He’s not the bad cop.” She bent to his level and brought the torch between them before flicking the flame on. Their prisoner’s stoic face quickly soured, and he thrashed against his restraints, making every attempt to escape the blue flame. “I am.”

Ghost found many things attractive, but he wasn’t aware that watching a woman he had just met torture a grown man and make him beg for life (and eventually, his death) would make him so painfully hard. He tried to blow off steam in the gym a few hours later (after jerking off in the shower, fucking minx), but was yet again met with the sight of his partner. Her hair was still damp from a post-mission shower, leaving a wet spot on the back of her t-shirt. This time, however, she had perched herself outside Price’s quarters. She leaned against the open door frame, chatting quietly, in nothing but a t-shirt and incredibly short shorts. Short enough, that the delicious crease where her ass met her thigh was prominently displayed.

Abort, abort, abort–

It was like the man had blacked out until he was safely in the confines of his quarters, back pressed against the now-locked door. He was a panting, flushed wreck under his mask, which he swiftly pulled off and tossed onto his dresser. Every endeavor to catch his breath or slow his heartbeat went nowhere. He decided cracking his skull against the solid wood door might jumpstart his system again and divert his thoughts away from the lieutenant.

Needless to say, that did nothing to appease the throbbing sensation between his legs.

“Bloody hell…”

Nothing a quick wank couldn’t fix. Again.

Price invited her to a local military bar with the rest of the crew, the usual spot for those who stayed on base on a Thursday night. It didn’t take her long to change and hitch a ride with their captain, donning a simple open-knit sweater with a bralette underneath and dark blue jeans. Once they arrived, she immediately noticed Ghost sitting at the end of the u-shaped countertop, tucked against the wall with his hood over his head. She took her time floating around the bar, shaking hands and conversing happily with various privates and soldiers that weren’t on their assignment. The damp air in the space, combined with her breath, made her mask cling to her face; this was a common occurrence, one the soldier had learned to put up with.

Ghost made no effort to approach her, but she wasn’t blind; his eyes followed her constantly. Whether he was being intentionally conspicuous or not, she didn’t know. After their little sparring match (that left a puddle in her underwear), she thought she had felt something shift. Even though she’d only known the man a few hours then, something about the sergeant piqued her interest. His commanding aura, powerful stance, laid-back yet driven attitude–

Or, his monstrous size and muscles. Those were always a plus.

When Ghost had fled from the training facilities, leaving her on the floor, she raised her arms and let them smack against the mat underneath her.

“He’s a tricky lad to get to know. You’ll get there,” Price had said, insisting that his adverse reaction was nothing personal.

Regardless, he wasn’t making a move, and the constant avoidance wasn’t floating her boat.

So, she allowed Roach to pull her to the cozy dance floor on the other side of the bar. Her eyes wrinkled with the wide smile under her mask as she danced with the silent soldier, chest to chest, periodically spinning under his arm. They laughed and danced like carefree fools; she had been nervous about crossing the pond to a new country, partnering up with strangers for such a vital mission. It wasn’t the same as a deployment or going to various countries with her usual team. The cartel could keep her in England for weeks if not months. Most of the people so far had made her feel welcome.

Most.

Still, she allowed her eyes to fall on the one soul who had made it seem like she didn’t belong – on that mission, on base, in the military in the first place–

And found the portion of his face not covered by his balaclava examining her. Ghost was damn good at concealing his emotions; in the few days she’d been graced with knowing him, she couldn’t figure out his thoughts three-quarters of the time. But at that moment, it almost seemed like fury mixed with a…certain softness?

His gaze shifted to her dance partner and darkened, no longer holding what she thought she had seen just a second before. Ghost held their eye contact while he downed his drink and slammed the heavy glass on the counter. Finally, he stormed to the exit with his hands stuffed into his pockets. She watched him shoulder the emergency door, which apparently had no alarms attached to it, and disappear outside. It was like a silent command to follow. Or maybe a warning, a huge, neon red sign blinking ‘BEWARE! DANGER!’ at her.

However, she had never been known for playing things safe.

“Roach,” she said over the music, slowing her movements. “I need some air. Don’t wait up.”

He simply smiled and bobbed his head before signing, “Sure! I’ll see you back on base tomorrow?”

“Try not to take it too rough tonight,” she signed back with a wink, patting him on the shoulder.

“I make no promises!”

Roach wouldn’t have a hard time finding someone to go home with, that much she was sure about. Even as she weaved through the crowd, she scoped a soldier still in their fatigues heading in her companion’s direction. Lucky bastard, she thought, trying not to let her envy for Gary’s ability to draw men in get the better of her. I’d give anything to scratch that itch right about now. But she was determined. Determined to confront Ghost about his attitude toward her, his superior, and end it. She quickly stepped to the door, hoping to catch the sergeant before he went back to base–

And collided with said sergeant's chest as she went to push the door out.

“Lieutenant.”

The lieutenant recovered smoothly, stepping back to put some space between them. “Sergeant,” she said, nodding to him. “Can I speak to you outside for a moment?”

He stared for a beat before silently stepping back and holding the door open as she stepped out. The cool, refreshing air flowed through the wide knit of her sweater, offering solace from the hot, stiff air, inside the building. The back exit led to a quiet parking lot; all they could hear was the soft buzz of the street light above, Thursday night traffic in the distance, and the muted music from the speakers inside. 

They stood side by side in silence for a while, him with his hands tucked into his hoodie pocket again, her arms crossed over her chest. The bar was further away from the city, making the clear, starry sky more visible without the smog and city lights. It would be peaceful if not for her whirring thoughts and the intoxicating musk and whisky wafting from the man next to her. Maybe she’d find someone to go back to the barracks with later.

She wasn’t expecting Ghost to be a regular Chatty Cathy, but the silence was unbearable. “Did I do something to upset you, Sergeant?” she asked, not looking up at him.

“No, ma’am.”

God, she wanted to throttle him. “Then why are you avoiding me?” She took the silence that followed as confirmation of her suspicions, which only fueled her fire more. “We’re supposed to be a team; you and I are partners. The whole won’t function with you icing me out.”

Another pause as Ghost contemplated his response. Her sneaker scuffed against the pavement as she shifted her stance, choosing to spread her weight equally instead of leaning to one side. It made her feel taller, and she needed all the help she could get next to the absolute unit beside her.

“You’re distracting.”

“Distra-” She looked up at him then, baffled, and saw him still facing forward. But she did notice his jaw tightened underneath the mask. Distracting? That’s not–

Oh.

“Rather cozy with the little insect.”

She couldn’t help it, honest. At first, she snorted, but her recovery wasn’t as swift as the chuckle rolled into barrelling laughter. “R-Rather…insecure for such a…big man!” she wheezed, hunching over with her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. 

Ghost asked, “Something funny?” which only made matters worse and threw her into another fit of giggles and snorts. Very ladylike. After close to a minute, she managed to compose herself enough to suck in a deep breath of oxygen.

“You’re jealous?” she questioned, straightening her back again. “Oh, that’s…that’s hilarious.”

“I’m not.”

Liar.

“You’ve been pining after me this whole time, and you–” The giggling started again, but under enough control that she could still speak. “Ghost, Roach is fucking gay.”

Ghost’s eyes snapped over to her at that, although he couldn’t find the words for a smart response. Several things he had noticed about Roach suddenly made sense. He’d been working with Roach for months by that point. How hadn’t he put two and two together? 

“You’d have a better chance of getting him to fuck you than me.”

Before he could stop it, his mouth spoke quicker than his mind could keep up with. “Oh, I’m not a bottom, love.”

Now, that certainly wasn’t a response she prepared for. Was it a good idea to proposition someone of a lower rank as a contractor?

Probably not.

If she was wrong and he wasn’t interested, he could report her and get her demoted if not discharged entirely. But if she’s right, and someone else catches them, that would at least count towards a demerit, a permanent stain on both of their records.

But again, you know what they say about her and risks…

“You sure about that?” she hummed, keeping her gaze forward and arms crossed.

Ghost raised an eyebrow and gave her a once over with his side-eye, eyes following her every curve, from her feet up to her exposed shoulder where her sweater had slipped and the open holes to her bare skin underneath. He forced his sight forward like a good soldier, clenching his fists tightly in his pocket to help restrain himself. “I don’t make a habit of fuckin’ my superiors, ma’am,” he offered, head tipped back towards the open sky.

“Who said you’d be doing the fucking, soldier?”

His skin reacted immediately, burning hot under the black fabric. He chanced another look at her without turning his head and saw her looking back through pretty lashes. If there were a definition for “fuck me eyes” in the dictionary with a picture next to it, the eyes he was currently staring into would be there. He had done so well, circumventing any temptation from a superior officer. The military was all he had; if he was discharged, he would have nowhere else to go. The ghost didn’t even have an apartment off-base, always staying in the barracks, save for times when Price dragged him to his house and forced him to stay there. 

He had been so diligent and successfully dodged her at every opportunity, dodged her kind advances of friendship, even sat across the room during the few briefings they’d had together to keep physical distance between him and his problem. But with every passing second of peering down into those eyes, the rest of her face concealed by a mask not unlike his own – he felt his impulses surging forward and self-control slipping away.

The man sighed deeply and dropped his head with his eyes closed. “Bollocks.” Ghost placed a hand on her lower back while the other pulled his belt open, the leather slipping through the metal clasp, buckle clinking as he guided her towards Price’s vehicle.

Ever the gentleman, Ghost popped the door open and stepped to the side, allowing her space to climb in first. She couldn’t be bothered with concealing the giddy, satisfied look as she perched herself on the seat and tugged him between her legs by his waistband.

“Don’t give me that look.”

Mischief twinkled in the irises staring back at him, and suddenly the black mask he’d grown accustomed to disappear, showcasing a smile to match. “What look, Sergeant?” she questioned, her voice pitched lower than usual and her touch slipping into his pants and squeezing. Hard. A gloved hand smacked into the frame of the vehicle, supporting his body through the sudden tremor that jerked his hips forward.

Fuck.

She did manage to learn a few things about Ghost in that SUV. Those facts are as follows:

He was much more religious about keeping his mask on than she was with hers

Whimperer

He somehow was able to be soft while also fucking her stupid?

That tongue of his was good for more than quick whit

When Ghost came inside her, his thighs shaking and convulsing as her warm walls milked him dry, she gave them both a minute to gather their senses before rolling her hips again, earning a pathetic whine.

“Come on, Sergeant,” she panted, pulling his head up from her shoulder by short curls at the nape of his neck. “You can do better than that. Make me come again? Please?”

She had known him for two days and already had him on his knees for her. That theme would be consistent in their relationship going forward.

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67, @thychuvaluswife, @mysticalpandabear, @cabreezer0117

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[tomtenadia]

Dress me up

Hello all,

here I am with another Rowaelin based on the foilowing prompt:

Rowaelin son, age 5/6/7 or so sees his big sister wearing a pretty dress and nail polish and asks dad if he could look pretty too??? and Rowan paints his nails

@rowaelinprompts

I have been eying that prompt for ages and today inspiration finally struck. it was fun to write and I hope I did it justice.

As usual I am bad at titles so apologies for that.

1.7k words

No warning, just pure undiluted Rowaelin fluff with their kids and Rowan being the most amazing dad that all the in the universe deserve.

Enjoy

----

Rowan loved weekends. He had a Monday to Friday corporate job, while his wife Aelin was a surgeon and could not always have that luxury. Those two days at home gave him the opportunity to spend time with his kids. Maya was fifteen and growing way to fast for his taste. Freyja was eight and a little tornado. Thomas was the youngest at five and now he and Aelin were expecting another child. Having a big family had been their dream from the start. Their friends called them crazy but they did not care. They had desired a house full of laughter, screams and in perpetual chaos. Adjusting the work balance to an ever growing family had taken some adjustments but in the end they had made it work and the kids were thriving.

Rowan was in the kitchen tidying up after lunch, Freyja at his side helping him placing crockery in the dishwasher which he then had to reshuffle. She just loved to dump things randomly so then he had to move everything again according to his very highly tested stacking plan. Truth was, he did not care. Having his daughter’s company was precious to him.

“All done!” Freyja had raised her arms in celebration.

He chuckled and closed the door “yes, my love, now, do you want to press the button?”

“Yes!” Freyja pressed the button that her dad had indicated and sat down in front of the machine that had a glass window allowing them to see inside.

“Wash!”

Rowan lifted his daughter in his arms “let’s go and see what your sister and brother are doing.”

They walked to Thomas’ room and found it empty until laughter reached them from the room at the end of the corridor “let’s go and see what they are up to.”

Maya’s room was chaos. It looked as if his daughter’s room had suffered a wardrobe explosion. 

“Did you have a fight with the closet?”

Freya squirmed in his arms and he let her go and his younger daughter ran to her sister’s bed and started trying on clothes that were far too big for her. Thomas in the meantime was sitting on the carpet and stared at his two sisters in fascination. He was a very quiet boy and Aelin kept telling him that he was a little Rowan.

“Mum did tell you that I am going to Aidan’s birthday party later on, right?”

“Yes Maya, she did and I know that auntie Elide is picking you up.”

Maya sat frustrated on the bed after throwing another dress on the floor “I look horrible in every dress.”

Rowan sighed. He and Aelin were getting used to a teenager daughter and all the drama that came attached with it. Luckily their circle of friends was more or less in the same situation so they had been exchanging tips on how to deal with angry, stressed and frustrated teenagers.

“There is this girl from my class that I really like and I just want to look nice but…” a loud groan left Maya’s lungs.

His eldest was all Aelin. Fierce and hot tempered just like her mother. Six months before, Maya had gone to her mother and confessed she thought she was interested in both girls and boys. She hadn’t said anything to him because she was afraid to disappoint him, but when Aelin told him he had gone and spoke to Maya offering all of his support. His daughter happiness was all that mattered. He had only told her that no matter whether she brought home a woman or a man, he was still playing jealous dad because she was and would always be his princess.

Rowan walked to the bed and picked a nice green dress “what about this one? It matches your eyes.” Maya was his clone. Same silver hair and same pine green eyes. The other two were a mix of both parents’ traits.

“What do you think kids? Does Maya look nice in this one?”

Freyja and Thomas approved loudly and Maya smiled.

“Fine, family approval. I guess I can try this on.”

While Maya disappeared to get changed, Freyja had sneaked in the open wardrobe and started taking out all of her sister’s remaining dresses and when Rowan turned he saw her with a red wig that her sister had used for Samhain a few years back.

“Looking good Freya.”

The girl giggled and in that instant Maya came back and Rowan turned to her. The dress suited her perfectly and hugged her in the right places without being too sensual. She looked beautiful and a part of him ached at the idea that her daughter would start to date soon and he was not ready to see her going through all of the heartache in the process. Not everyone was as lucky as he and Aelin had been. Not everyone got to marry their best friend and soulmate.

“Baby, you are stunning and I hope that girl will see it too.”

“You are so pretty,” added Freyja hugging her sister at knee level.

“Tom, what do you think?”

“I like green.”

“Well, you have the family approval and I am sure mum would agree too. I just texted her.”

Maya started to get ready and Freyja kept playing with her sister’s clothes. Rowan then noticed Thomas trying to wear a nice blue dress.

“It’s too big, Tom.”

“But I like it.” Hurt thick in his voice.

Freya looked at her brother and disappeared away, probably to her room. When she came back she was carrying her little suitcase which was full of a lot of her princess dresses and accessories.

Thomas looked at his sister with joy and the two young ones started rummaging in the suitcase.

“We can have a parade.” Added Maya, looking at her siblings with delight.

Maya helped Freyja and Rowan sat on the floor and he and Thomas went through the clothes until the boy settled on a nice sparkly princess dress.

Thomas’ gaze then landed on Freyja wearing a tiara and then Maya painting her nails “Dada, I want to look pretty too.” He added, while pointing at his sisters.

Freyja walked to her brother and placed her tiara on his head and the boy smiled.

“Do you want to paint your nails too? Like your sister?”

The boy squealed in delight and ran to Maya who at the question had sat down on the floor and took out her box with nail polish “which one do you want?”

Thomas looked at his father and Rowan nodded “you have a light blue dress, do you want blue nail polish too?”

“Green.”

“Green it is.”

Maya was about to start painting her brother’s nails but Rowan stopped her “I got this, finish getting ready. The little ones and I will get ready for our party tonight with mum.”

“Yes. Can we party with mum?”

“She is coming home soon, we need to get ready for her.”

Rowan sat on the bed and asked Thomas to kneel and place his hand on his thigh “now you need to sit still.”

One by one he painted all the nails and then Maya showed him how to blow on them to dry faster.

In the meantime, Freyja had finished dressing up and was wearing one of her favourite Disney princess costume, her sister’s red wig a set of bright yellow sunglasses and a plastic sword in her hands. It was the weirdest combination but he and Aelin had always allowed the children to express themselves freely.

“Dad, am I pretty too?”

“Absolutely dashing, my love.”

The girl preened just like her mother would do.

Once Thomas’s nail were dry he just started jumping around happy “I am pretty.”

He took a picture of all of them when Freyja walked to him and pulled his hand for attention “dada, you need to look pretty too.”

“Do I?”

“Yes,” Freyja gave him wide grin showing her missing tooth. He sat back down on the floor and Freyja placed a bright pink boa feather scarf around his neck, Thomas gave him another of the many tiaras and Freyja then added a pair of big clip on earrings.

“Dada, you are pretty too now.”

Rowan stood and walked to the mirror and laughed.

In that instant Aelin’s voice reached them all and the two wee ones started screaming in happiness.

“Slowly, we will parade down the stairs and surprise mum.”

Freyja was the first one out of the room and Thomas followed holding her hand.

“Dad, you look dashing too. Does mum know she married a pretty princess?”

Rowan grinned and flicked his long hair and adjusted his tiara “Maya, your mum is the warrior who slays dragons for me.”

They both laughed and then Rowan offered his arms to his daughter “let’s go.”

Together they reached the living room where Thomas and Freyja were parading in front of Aelin who was sitting on the sofa.

Rowan saw her face restrain a laughter as soon as she spotted her husband and his current attire.

“You make a good princess, dear husband.”

“We had the best stylists.” Added Maya with pride.

Aelin looked at her daughter with love “you are beautiful, my love.” She then placed her hands on her hips “now I am the boring one and we can’t have this.”She disappeared upstairs and came back ten minutes later among laughter from the rest of the family. She was wearing her koala pyjama a green wig and a sword attached to her hip “Baby and I went for comfort.”

“This definitely deserves a photo.”

Rowan went to grab the camera and set it on a timer and ran back. He took a spot beside Aelin, his arms sneaking around her waist while the other landed on her baby bump. Maya was at her mum’s other side. Aelin had a hand on her sword, Freyja was in front of her and had her own wielded and in an attack pose. Thomas’s face was morphed in a grimace and pretended to be a monster scaring his sister.

Rowan went to retrieve the camera and together they looked at the photo “well, no one can say that we don’t know how to have fun.”

“Buzzard, we are the Whitethorn-Galathynius, we are awesome.”

The kids roared their approval and the party began.

The photo became a permanent fixture on top of their mantlepiece framed in the sparkliest frame Freyja could find.

tags:

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

[osric-giroux-ffxiv]

17. — audience

He should have known something was off.

It had been long enough, and he had been taking daily walks with Freyja and Tyr often enough, for the pups to know better than to wander off ahead of him. It was a behavior that was decidedly out of character for both of them, and so when both of them perked their ears up as the trio approached the door to Osric's apartment and immediately took off to sniff at the door, he should have known.

There was only one other person besides him who had a key - and he'd forgotten to have the locks changed after the last time they'd abused said key to enter the apartment at some ungodly hour to have a conversation with him.

A fact that somehow slipped in mind in this moment as he frowned and clicked his tongue at the two wolf pups, motioning them back behind him as he unlocked the door.

"I don't know what's gotten into you two, but honestly..." He exhaled sharply, opening the door enough for the two pups - both now about knee height, to slip into the apartment, which they did quickly, following after whatever scent they'd caught.

He rolled his eyes, pocketing the key before stepping into the...well lit? Hadn't he turned off the lights before leaving? He scowled, closing the door behind him and turned hearing the pups and a noise from the direction of the couch. He just managed to catch sight of a something - a pillow maybe? - flying in his direction and moved his head. The something did happen to be a pillow, which hit against the door with no small amount of force.

"You stupid fucker."

Osric blinked slowly, turning towards the figure who'd thrown the pillow, his sister - who stood, arms crossed over her chest glaring at him from across the room, the two pups sniffing at her boots.

"Hello to you too, Edalene? You couldn't have, oh...I don't know? Warned me you were coming?"

"I could have accosted you outside and yelled at you in front of an audience - would you have preferred that? Still can - I'm sure there are plenty of people just down the hall."

That earned her a sigh, as Osric bent down to pick up the pillow, which he considered returning to the couch before thinking better of it. "...And what exactly are you here to yell at me about?"

"I can think of any number of reasons."

"Well, let's not, hm? If you're here to discuss my failings - don't. I've heard enough about them. If you're here to say 'I told you so' I don't need that either. You still have a job, nothing has changed for you."

Edalene's gaze narrowed further. "But plenty has changed for you - and this is why you're a stupid fucker. You had no issue being selfish when it was time to abolish the house. But then it was all about what someone else wanted. What you thought someone else wanted. And where did that get you?"

His jaw clenched tightly, his voice low in warning, "Edalene..."

"No - you can shut up and listening for just a gods damned minute. Am I happy to still have a job - yeah, and I'll happily keep my job. It's a nice job, a good paying job. But at what fucking point do you stop trying to appease everyone else and start living for your gods damn self?"

Osric exhaled slowly, clicking his tongue and motioning back behind him - both pups moving away from Edalene and over towards him quickly. "...I will say this once, and either you hear this and understand or you don't - your choice. My decisions have not been made to appease anyone. They were made because when I found out about the twins I made a decision that they were not going to have the childhood that you or I did. I was going to be a better father than what we had...or father figure."

Edalene tilted her head curiously but didn't press.

"My choices aren't performative, Edalene - they're not made for an audience, they're not made for anyone else. No one else needs to understand them. They haven't been fucking easy - it would have been easier...in a sense...to stay. Any everyone would have been more miserable for it. I don't want anyone to be miserable. I...care too much. I want those children to have a better life than I did. Isn't that selfish enough?"

Another pillow went flying across the room - and this one he didn't have time to dodge.

"No. I still think you're a stupid fucker. I can read through your bullshit, remember? And I'm going to keep reminding you about it until I leave."

Osric winced, leaning down to pick up the second pillow turned projectile. "...and when do you leave."

"I have a few days before I need to get back."

"...wonderful....just fucking wonderful."

"Just be glad I didn't come to say 'I told you so'. Because I could be doing that."

"Edalene..."

"Yeees?"

"....Just shut the fuck up."

Thanks @the-sycophant

[ally-holmes]

Bamboozle

Day 14 of the 30-day short story challenge

Today's topic was provided by @silvermoon-scrolls and it happens to be an Anders Johnson fanfic. Sort of. It's Anders' birthday and he's lonely.

CW: it may seem hurt/comfort but it's more comfort than anything else

Words: 971

Also availabe on AO3

Here it goes:

Anders Johnson had never been easily bamboozled. From an early age, he learned to fend for himself.

On one hand, he was the second son of four siblings so his parents didn't have much time for him. Evidently, Mike and Axl were the ones who received more attention and love as the former was the firstborn whilst the latter was the youngest. Anders and Ty ought to keep up with the middle-child syndrome; however, Ty betrayed Anders by being highly temperamental and extremely needy.

On the other hand, Johan Johnson wasn't the best father of them all. He wasn't even mediocre. As the male god he was, Johan drank too much, hurt his wife, and ignored his children until he decided to leave them. Elizabeth Johnson, Johan's wife, took care of the children as a slave unintentionally halfheartedly. She loved them, Anders had no doubt about that, yet the idea of raising four gods that might end up just as disturbing as Johan was too much for her.

She abandoned them after Mike's 21st birthday.

At the time, Mike had lied to his brothers explaining that their mother had died. It seems obvious that one cannot just gather one's brothers to tell them that their mother, the goddess Freyja, had decided she rather turn herself into a tree than stay with her sons.

Anders was the first one to know the truth, as he was the next one on turning 21 and finding out he was the vessel of the poetry Norse god Bragi. The notion that he had been abandoned by his mother instead of orphaned struck him harder than it did the other two, yet he showed no emotions about it.

He bottled up his emotions, his feelings, his thoughts… Nobody cared. His brothers' behavior toward him had always been lacking one way or another but after the whole Val and Gaia issue, and then figuring out that by "the gods going to Asgard" the prophecy meant the part of them that wasn't human… Let's just say it wasn't ideal. Or pretty. Or nice.

Building up their human lives again when mortals had no memory of them was hard on everyone, sure, but none of them had relied on their powers to do their jobs as much as Anders had. Without Bragi's loquacity, Anders' world was doomed.

Or so he had thought.

Dawn, although without remembering much, was still an important piece of his PR business. She became so important to him that he had no choice but to make her his partner. That, of course, meant that he couldn't pile up his work on her desk anymore.

All in all, Anders had a regular life. Even without Bragi's powers, he was still cute enough to get as many girls as he wanted, the business was recovering thanks to Dawn, and his brothers seemed to be living their happiest lives. If only all that hadn't left him feeling left behind…

Everything was nice and good and fine. Sure, fine. He bottled up his feelings. Who cared? He hid his thoughts under the carpet. So what? Everything was marvelous. Splendid. Fantabulous!!

Then his birthday rolled by and for the first time, he had no strength to call his brothers annoyingly demanding for them to congratulate him. Anders sat on his sofa with a family-size bag of Doritos and watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy in their extended versions. His phone did not buzz a single time. Not even spam calls!!

Anders Johnson had never been easily bamboozled. He had always been able to catch people's ticks and pauses to know when he was being played. His deplorable situation explains why Anders didn't catch something amiss when Axl called him claiming an emergency with Zeb at their place. Axl had sounded so distressed that Anders had left the apartment without being a dick to his younger brother for not having congratulated him on his birthday.

Again, please take into account that Anders Johnson had never, ever, been easily bamboozled.

That night was different.

Closing his car door with a loud noise, Anders jumped the stars in twos to reach the main door sooner. He knocked at the wood with a steady rhythm. After receiving no answer, he tried the doorknob and pushed it open.

With strides as long as his legs allowed him he found himself quickly enough in the living room with a bunch of confetti being ejaculated into his face.

He blinked.

"What the fuck is going on?" He asked completely, utterly, and profoundly bamboozled.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" The room roared at him with laughter.

He blinked, again.

Ty was the first one to close the distance embracing him crushingly. Anders felt his eyes stung and he'd be dammed if he let himself go at a time like this in front of everyone. Before he was able to reorient himself, Axl was hugging him. Axl, the egg!! Mocking Anders' height, Axl in his giantness put his cheek on top of Anders' head. Mike's turn was somewhat awkward. Their history had not been even from the start, but their fraternal love was there as it has always been. Mike grabbed him by the shoulder, squeezed it as if trying to convince himself, and then he pulled Anders into a bear hug.

Having waited patiently while the brothers shared the birthday boy, Olaff, their granddad, forced the four men into a collective hug with him.

"Sorry about the call," Axl had the nerve to look apologetic. "We wanted to be a proper surprise this time."

"We totally bamboozled you this time, did we not?" Ty gave him a bear with a smug smile.

Anders, who had always been unable to keep his mouth shut, found himself at a loss for words. His bottled emotions, feelings, and thoughts were overflowing with affection. 

The end.