#I feed the children before they begin to nibble

[slug-gore-bug]

R O B O O B

[onskepa]

Stxeli: new life.

Hi everyone! this is the ongoing series for mo'at's fic "a daughter for daughter". If ya'll read that one, it is like an overall cover of what stxeli life would be like. However, I wanna truly start it with this.

Stxeli series

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Sun has once again shine brightly all across Pandora. A new day has begun. Mo'at and Eytukan were starting to awaken when they hear soft babbles of their little one, Stxeli. She was wide awake and was staring at them while having her little foot in her mouth. Both smile down at her cute face. Mo'at gently takes stxeli's foot out of her mouth, "You're feet is to move, not to eat ma'ite".

Eytukan looks at his long time mate. Her bright smile returned to her face. The sparkle is back in her amber eyes. Mo'at was back to being herself. And it was thanks to Eywa's gift. Stxeli was what they needed, she was the cure, the medicine, the answer to heal from their inner wounds. And Eytukan would do what it takes to make sure his new daughter wont ever suffer.

They went to where all the na'vi are, all having breakfast together. Neytiri was already there with tsu'tey and other children. Saying their good mornings, both leaders take a seat and began to eat. Mo'at was given some soft foods by recent mothers. Though mo'at worries if stxeli might not like the foods. Only one way to find out.

First she offers a bit of soft mushed fruit to stxeli, letting her nibble a bit before taking a whole bite. Mo'at sees it as a good sign and began to feed her more of it. Stxeli makes a happy sound as she noms away the mushed fruit.

Neytiri simply stared at little stxeli, not saying much. "You consider the child your sister?" Tsu'tey asks as he takes a bite of his food.

Neytiri took a long minute to answer, "I am not sure" and returns to eat.

Eytukan finished his meal first and faces mo'at, "mo'at, hand her to me, you must eat as we have a long day ahead of us". Agreeing, mo'at hands stxeli over to eytukan as she begins eats.

Stxeli made some babbling noise again, as if trying to talk to eytukan, to which, he is all ears for. He gently traces his little daughter's features, taking in her soft squishy cheeks, her smooth skin, and her little button nose that he likes to boop a lot.

"every morning you are always the first to be up" he tells her, mo'at looks at them both with a smile. "She enjoys the first morning sunlight rays".

After breakfast, mo'at would usually be the one to take stxeli with her as her main grounds is either the healing tents or visiting the spirit tree. Safe areas for stxeli.

And where ever she goes, the clan would stop and greet little stxeli. Many children would even ask to hold her, and mo'at would grant their little desires, as long as the mothers are near and mo'at guides them how to properly carry stxeli as she is smaller than a na'vi baby. Mo'at feels at east that the clan has accepted stxeli. Even better that the children seem to genuinely love her little girl.

Well, almost everyone.

Unfortunately, However, there would always be a bad fruit in the basket. Ateyo and Artsut. Tsu'tey's parents. Such stubborn people they are. They are the only ones who could never seem to accept stxeli yet.

And speak of the na'vi. When mo'at opened her tent, artsut was there. Frowning, mo'at asks "is there something you need artsut?". The woman in question turns to her. But artsut wasn't looking at mo'at, no, she was staring at stxeli with pure hatred in her eyes.

Stxeli was just playing with mo'at's songchord, being blissfully unaware the hate she is getting.

By motherly instinct, mo'at held her daughter closer to her, as means to protect her baby from the possible threat in front of her.

"I see you still haven't gotten rid of that demon" artsut hisses. Mo'at's tail swishes in anger, but does her best to be as composed as possible. To insult a child is to insult the mother.

"and why would I rid of my child? Eywa's gracious gift to me?", artsut scoffs. "A gift from our great mother, I dare say, don't be foolish tsahik. Why would Eywa accept those demons? That is what those demons want. To intertwin themselves with our people! That thing has your mind warped!".

Mo'at scoffs at such false accusations. Before artsut could say anymore, she was interrupted by a loud squeal from stxeli, sounds like she is a bit fussy. "If all you have come is to insult my child, then it is best you leave. I am only kind to your for the sake of your son. But dont try this again or I will have Olo'eyktan to speak with you".

For once, choosing the right thing, artsute leaves in huffing anger. Once mo'at finds the space safe, she puts stxeli down letting her explore the familiar place.

Whenever someone seeks mo'at for treatment, you can bet stxeli plays a important role. She distracts the patient while mo'at treats them. Stxeli would often play, talk, or be carried by the person. As means to keep themselves occupied and not be as in much pain.

Mo'at heals the physical wounds while stxeli heals in emotions. A nice duo. And mo'at already plans to teach stxeli the ways of a healer. She can see her darling girl treating others in time of need.

By the end of the day, curing the communal dinner, eytukan was holding stxeli, missing her all day as he did his duties. "have you been good for your mother" he gently asks to which stxeli answers in sounds only she can understand.

Mo'at chuckles as she smiles, "she has been doing well in assisting me". She turns to give neytiri more food but catches her child staring at stxeli again. Neytiri has been doing that since their new daughter arrived. "What is wrong ma'ite?" she asks. Neytiri doesnt turn to face her, but answers while staring at stexlie.

"nothing....nothing......" was all she said.

Mo'at hopes that neytiri can see the way she and eytukan sees stxeli. She prays to Eywa that neytiri will hopefully soon come to love her new sister.

Okie that is it for this one! Hope you all enjoyed it! Until next time! see ya!

[butmakeitgayblog]

What kind of parents would elbow patches and her milf wife be towards their baby chonkster?

I mean... good parents? 😅 idk what you mean I'm sorry I'm obtuse sometimes

But like, also think of it. Clarke's done this before. She's been through the colicky phase and the teething. She's dealt with the terrible two's and all of the sort. She knows what's coming down the line and she's an old hand at this.

But Lexa never has 😳

She's learning on the job just like all new mothers do. Learning how to swaddle the baby and do burp time. Changing diapers and warming up bottles and stroking that little head of curls while the baby absolutely crashes out on her chest for post feeding naps. Clarke learning that Lexa doesn't light up just for her and teaching anymore, but rather seeing how she fukcin loses it over the baby every time she gets home and beelines right for the lil chunkster.

All the usual nervous mom stuff too. Emotional breakdowns over 3am fevers and having to talk her down from going in after lights-out to check that they're still breathing for the first couple of months (and catching her on the monitor doing it anyway 🥴) But also watching her kiss lil baby toes and pretend to nibble on lil baby fingies just because it makes those bright eyes open pop wide with a teeny bit of fear that she's being eaten but also wild peels of laughter. Seeing the way Lexa mimics all of the little yawns and those tiny laughs, even going so far as to pretend to cry right along with the baby because, "Oh, I feel your pain, little love, I do. I know, it's so awful. Momma's got you, I do."

Seeing Lexa, in her perfectly pressed tweed suits, barely bother to take off her work jacket before getting down on the ground for some tummy-time with the baby. Seeing her then read books, show them pictures of art, dance with the ball of chub in her arms to music. Seeing the care Lexa takes not only with their child, but with Madi, and how she always takes time to involve them in their sister's life. Taking the idea that both of Clarke's children are siblings and family very seriously. Seeing the care Lexa has in the little things of parenting, how she plays with them and corrects bad behavior and talks to their child from the beginning like it's a whole person with understanding and feelings that matter.

It's hilarious to watch her wife having a very serious conversation about biting with a 13 month old, but a lot more helpful when she can actually explain to a 4 year old mini-Lexa-in-training why hitting isn't allowed even when you're angry, and have them be able to sort of understand, but more importantly also be able to express their own frustration right back in ways that they both can work with.

So yeah. While every child is different and unique and a person all of their own, and raising each one is a wildly different experience, Clarke has been through this before. But it's really a lot more fun going through it again and watching Lexa grow into her own style of motherhood right along with her, ya know?

They're a team, basically. They learn and grow with each other into the kind of parents they want to be. In the end, Lexa ends up teaching her just as many things about being a parent the second time around as Clarke teaches her.

[melis-writes]

a cute moment prompt, Victoria and Michael feeding the twin babies in their mouths. 💞

Absolutely so adorable!! 🥺🥺🥺 The twins are almost six years old canonically now (they truly grow up so fast smh 😂❤️) but they were the cutest little bundles of joy ever as little babies! 🥰😍

“This takes out all the guesswork of dinner time now,” you giggle quietly, rocking little baby Verona in your arms as you reach over to grab her bottle.

“It’s a first,” Michael holds a warm bottle of milk in his hand, gently angling Niccolo up in his arms. “Though I think the little man here knows what he wants.”

“Uh huh, he’s ready to grab,” you laugh softly, watching as Niccolo cooes softly, reaching out his tiny hands towards the bottle. “Little buddy is very hungry.”

“Perhaps he can tell I’m not very used to this,” Michael carefully positions the tip of the bottle into Niccolo’s mouth. “At all, whatsoever.”

“Never babysat for Sonny or Tom’s kids either?” You smile, seeing Verona clutch onto her feeding bottle as she begins to suckle on the tip.  

“Not at all,” Michael shakes his head. “Between university and joining the marines, my nieces and nephews grew up. I never had the opportunity to spend time with any of them as infants.”

“You’re doing so well already,” you blush, noticing how gentle and cautious Michael is with Niccolo. “I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

Michael wipes off the little dribble of milk by Niccolo’s lip with a cloth, gazing back at you momentarily. “The last thing I’d want to be is the same kind of father my brothers were to their children; absent, distance, uncaring. These are our children. I want to be there for them.”

“I always wanted to keep it to myself, but…” You nibble down on the corner of your lip, watching Verona. “I don’t think either of them had any excuse to be absentee fathers.”

“They had no interest in parenting,” Michael states out. “Despite my mother and father’s protests. Albeit Tom has no excuse himself, but he spent more time with his family than Santino ever did with his. Did you expect the same of me?”

Your eyes widen a little as you pause for a moment. “I didn’t know what to think right then, baby. It came to my mind as a possibility, but I didn’t know then how you would be as a parent, and I couldn’t say much about myself, could I?”

“I could,” Michael slowly pulls the milk bottle away from Niccolo’s mouth as he notices Niccolo pushing it away.

“I could tell you were going to be caring and loving mother from the moment I met you. It’s not in me to let you do it alone,” Michael gently rubs up and down Niccolo’s back, sitting him up in his lap before looking back at Verona still hungrily suckling away at the bottle in your arms. “And certainly not with twins.”

“Surprised both of us, didn’t they?” You beam, resting your head over Michael’s shoulder momentarily. “Two little ones when all we were doing was expecting one.”

“Mhmm,” Michael gives your forehead a gentle kiss as he snuggles Niccolo in his arms. “Which only makes me wonder when you would have wanted to have a second child if we didn’t have twins?”

“I’m surprised you’re asking that now,” you giggle, holding onto the milk bottle as Verona moves her hands off of it—wiggling her little fingers aimlessly. “Perhaps three months later?”

“Three months?” Michael lets Niccolo grab his finger with his entire hand, pleasantly surprised by your response. “So soon?”

“It’s not that soon,” you feel your cheeks flare up with blush. “Pregnant for nine months again while the little one grows and… I just wouldn’t want to wait too long, personally.”

“It’s up to you, darling,” Michael hands you a clean cloth.

You gently dab the cloth over Verona’s lips, cleaning off any drool and milk from her mouth. “I’m very grateful to have this two little cuties growing up side by side with each other. The absolute best surprise,” you give a smooch over Verona and Niccolo’s cheek. “And a little bit of a double hassle too. That’s why I think we should wait to have our third, so we can focus one raising these little guys and give them all the attention they need.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Michael grazes his thumb gently over the back of your hand. “And once we settle down from the move, it’ll all be better from there for all of us. For our children, and for you and I.”

[ampasmen]

Hello I gave you another fanfic! This time is short and fluff, so enjoy!!

Crazy cat man

If there's one thing that paleman loves the most in this world is definitely a cat. He loves and adores cats, he likes to pet them, cuddle them, feed them food, heck he even likes to play with cats all the time. And don't even start that he adopted a few of the cats in his apartment, that's why the other elemental likes to call him "crazy cat man" because he really loves to bring cats whenever he sees them. And whenever there's a meeting between the ninja and the elemental master, he always brings them to the meeting. That's the reason they have a cat room whenever Paleman comes and brings his herd of cats.

"And this is Ms. Nibbles, she really likes belly rubs. Oh! And this is perrywinkle, he is a sassy cat I tell you"

"Dude as much as we love to hear you ramble about your children, we have a lot of things to discuss" tox said to her bestie as she was about to begin the meeting with the others as paleman continued his rambling. "Well karlof likes paleman stories about his felines friends" karlof said enjoying the story a little bit too much

"Please don't encourage him more karlof…" Griffin facepalm his head as he is already tired with the all child-cat story he hears. As much as he loves to hear the story, it was really becoming more endless than before, "Oh comeon guys! My story is not done yet, I have a lot of stories of my children to tell!" He said happily as the others groaned hearing this. This is such an endless one.

Paleman also really loves stray cats, whenever he sees them his first instinct is to kidnap them and bring them to his apartment. But the others always said no more cats in his apartment, and another reason is they don't want to babysit his cats. Paleman really has bad habits there.

"Here kitty kitty… I brought some treats"

"Come here now psst psst, let me cuddle with you~"

"Aren't you a cute one? You are my child now"

"DUDE STOP ADOPTING EVERY CAT YOU SEE!" Chamille scream at him as she tried to stop him to pet every cat he saw in street

"Elijah, you have so much cats in your apartment better stop that now" Ash called him as he tried to stop too from adopting every cat he walk through

Right now the others are trying to restrain paleman from everytime there's a cat in their way, with paleman trying really hard to free himself from his friend's hold. "LET ME GO! I HAVE TO PET IT!!"

"PALEMAN NO!"

"PALEMAN YES!!"

"Is he always like this whenever there's a cat in our way?" Seliel asks the ninja as she witnesses something random in front of her eyes.

"Yeah, you're going to get used to it" Cole explained to her as he was enjoying the riot infront of him as he was eating some popcorn in his arms.

"Ninjago people are really… unique in some way," Bentho said as he didn't know how to process this new information he got with his own eyes.

"Well that's a normal thing in ninjago. You've seen so many villains in here and that's normal for the people here" pixal explain to the others as they agreed with her, seeing it was maybe the most normal things that happen to them in life.

You expect normal from ninjago city, well this is normal per say.

"PALEMAN! COME BACK HERE YOU CRAZY CAT MAN!!"

"HAHAHA!! CATCH ME IF YOU CAN BITCHES!"

"YOU CAN'T JUST RUN AROUND WITH YOUR POWER AS YOU KIDNAP THE CATS!!"

"I CAN AND I WILL DO IT AGAIN!"

"AFTER HIM!!"

Well that was a normal thing in ninjago.

[thatgoblin]

Ask meme: Carlos!!!! ^^

Headcannons of me and my Himbo Husband F/O

He's hot. No, literally. The man is a furnace and while it's wonderful in the winter, in the summer it's awful because I'm always hot and he wants cuddles bit I feel like I have a human sun attached to me. Upside is my feet always get cold so making him sit on them is always a win. Unless we're in bed and he doesn't expect then he whines.

No less then 5 times a day do we say 'What the fuck are you doing?' To each other. 5 times each that is. Either I'm being a weird goblin and talking to myself or trying to fight something OR he's trying to do a haka like dance for the cats who are entranced yet also terrified.

I thought I had a lot of hair. The man almost had me beat. We have to clean the drain once a month or it gets backed up. But oh my gods his hair is so soft. Even if he hasn't washed it in a few days.

Don't tell him to not do something. The jerk will do it. But then again I'm the same way. 'Do not add habanero to the chili! It has chilies in it already! I don't have an iron tongue like you!' 'But flavor, babe!' 'I am not dealing with an upset stomach later for the sake of your "flavor", Carlos.'

He loves to give affection in weird ways. Like whispering in my ear that he just took a big shit in the bathroom so give it a few minutes or he'll have worked on the yard all day and will come in to rub his stinky body on me. 'I gotta do it or the werewolves will sense you!' 'What werewolves!? What are you talking about, Carlos!?' 'The ones from Seattle. If they small an alpha on you then they'll leave you alone!' 'I'm gonna hose you, stahp!'

I do it right back to him though. Mostly with gentle nibbles. Kinda gentle. Gentle like. Okay sometimes I just straight up bite him where I can. There's also the times I do a 'mating ritual' which usually begins with me flapping a jacket I have on or a robe and making bird noises before proceeding to chase him and scream 'LET ME LOVE YOU!'

We both refer to the cats as our children. He's a proud papa of 3 cats who love him, well 2 who love him and one who tolerates him becausr Carlos feeds her. TBF Patty barely tolerates me.

Carlos sleeps like the dead. I'm pretty sure that I've tried to wake him a time or two when there was a definite need for him to be awake but he was just out. Short of throwing water on him, he was not getting. Yes, I poured water on him from one of the many water bottles we have.

He has become the neighbors nemesis. I tried to stop him, but when I found out why, I helped him. It was over some stupid bushes they didn't like in our yard so we planted more. They complained more, we hadded more. Now we have so many hydrangeas and I don't know how to care for them. Send help.

Carlos is absolutely amazing with his hands. The man can crack my body like a glow stick and I'll ask for more every time. He gives the best massages. I swear he should have been a masseuse. He doesn't like it when I try to give him one, something about 'I am not dough!' IDK.

Usually people don't care for feet, but Carlos doesn't mind it. I give him pedicures a lot because otherwise his feet would be EXTRA rough and I will not do that to my sheets.

For as much attention ad he may crave, he's pretty good about letting us have our own things. It's nice having that alone time but parallel play is good too.

The man can cook. He likes to as well and will hijack my dinners if I'm not careful. *points to habaneros in the chili*

While he will start out the big spoon, I always end up being his backpack because I wrap around him like an octopus when we sleep.

Also, he would sleep in nothing if I let him. Fear of having to quickly leave while grabbing the cats is real so he has to wear at least underwear. He whines but does it.

We'll leave the spicy details for later. ;)

[wtfevenismypage]

Choking Game

request: So based off of the episode "Risky Business" with fem reader x spencer? (Bc how could you not listen to him explaining the choking game and think of his long fingers around your neck) anyway. After spencer gets home from the case reader is horny and spencer is like "sure" but then is scared to choke her like normal? Then she talks him into relaxing and at the end he sees the tiniest bit of irritation on her neck and is like "fuck no, aftercare now!!"

Warnings: SMUT (choking duh, penetrative sex, praising kink), Cursing, Brief mentions of death

A/N: brO- Y’all are hella kinky and i fucking love it. ALSO I JUST REALIZED THIS IS SLIGHTLY OFF FROM THE REQUEST BUT IT’S BEEN A LONG DAY AND I KIND OF ALREADY WROTE THE WHOLE THING SO I DECIDED TO STICK WITH IT I’M SORRYYYYYYY

Another day, another case. You and your team had just finished a serial case you titled “Choking Game”. A trend going around online where children kill themselves by strangling themselves. It was rough, but a certain someone made it a bit more complicated.

You knew it sounded wrong, but you couldn’t help it. He was too hot for his own good. 

Well first of all there were high schoolers, and second, he was talking about death. 

But damn those hands of his and the way he had to constantly move them around every time he explained something. You could only imagine him wrapping them around your neck.

You climb into your bed, the lingering effects of your boyfriend still stuck in your head as he climbs in as well, furrowing his head into your skin.

“Hey... Spencer?”

“Yeah bubs?”

You giggle, that nickname always gave you butterflies.

“Do you... Would you ever be up for that sort of thing... In bed?”

He clearly doesn’t know what you mean. 

“A little more specific?”

You get flustered, a red tint brushing over your cheeks as you flip over to bury your face into his neck.

“Hey hey bubba, you won’t get what you want if you don’t ask nicely.”

Oh hell yeah. Now he’s going into super soft dom mode. He never goes too rough with you, but he loves to dominate you into a gentle submission. Just the right amount of domination.

“Um... Do you think you’d ever want to try choking me? I- I mean you don’t have to obviously I was just thinking maybe it would be really hot, but I get it if you don’t want to! I mean especially after the last case and how intense that was! I just, Your hands are really big and I was thinking and thinking and thinking and I thought it would be really fun to try out and-”

“Sure.”

He says, cutting off your rambling quickly before climbing on top of you, trapping you under him. His eyes bore into yours, lust already trapped in the stars of his pupils.

“I’m gonna start slowly though alright? I seriously don’t want to hurt you so I’m going slow.”

You nod, letting him have full access to your lips. He kisses you gently as his hands work off your clothes, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth which makes you release a soft moan.

A smile appears on his face as he begins moving his lips down your jaw and to your now-bare chest. He takes a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it and nibbling softly to elicit more needy whines from you. 

His hand dips down to your wet sex, toying with your clit gently and then probing a finger into you, immediately curling it upwards. You let your mouth make noises, feeding into both his pride and his dick.

“Shit!”

You moan, a hand tangling itself in his hair while he continues to kiss and nibble your sensitive nipples. He quickly sits up, pulling off his sweatpants and boxers, his cock springing up as he moved back down to kiss you passionately. 

Lining himself up with your warm cunt, he pushes in with one quick thrust, a whine of pleasure and pain mixed together escaping your vocal cords. 

“You feel so good around me bubba. So tight.”

He whispers, one hand travelling up your body, pinching your left nipple briefly before finding its way around your neck. His thrusts got harder, faster, making you clench around him each time he does.

“Plea- please! Please Spencer...”

You didn’t know what you were begging for at this point, you just needed him. His hand remained limp around your throat, he was nervous about hurting you. 

“Spencer... You won’t hurt me. I’ll, I’ll tap your arm if it gets too much for me okay?”

He nods, picking up his pace when your hands move to clutch his vein-y arms as he begins gently squeezing at your throat, just barely restricting your breathing with each squeeze.

The feeling was so euphoric. The way your breath was cut off with each thrust, your strangled moans dripping out of your lips as he delivers quick and hard hits to your g-spot. 

“Shit... Fuck!”

You cry out, his grunts echoing in your ear when he starts squeezing harder. He didn’t release your neck, your lips began feeling tingly and a bit numb as the blood rushed to your head until all you could focus on was the feeling of him pounding into you over and over again. 

“Fuck. You feel so fucking good bubba.”

You can faintly hear his voice in your ears as he quickly brings you to your edge, your legs began to shake, and you could feel his smirk against your ear lobe, getting cockier as you reached your climax.

“Beg bubba.”

He eased up on your throat, allowing you to speak properly for only a few moments.

“Please! Please Spencer please let me cum! Pretty please!?”

You begged like a little child who wanted a toy, but this was much more mature. He began squeezing your throat again, harder this time, bringing you to the edge much faster. 

You cum hard and fast, the feeling washing a white wave of heat over your entire body, starting at your cunt as you violently shake from sensitivity of his sharp thrusts.

He slowly pulled out, cumming all over your abdomen and thighs. He removes his hand, staring at The fresh red marks around your neck before springing into action.

He moves like a flash, grabbing numerous things, a wet washcloth, some essential oils, and water before returning to you, swiping the cum off of you and helping you sit up.

“I’m alright Spence. My throat might be a tiny bit sore but that’s okay. That was... Fucking amazing.”

“I liked it too. You looked so desperate to breathe bubba. But next time, let’s maybe wait a couple of days after a case like that yeah?”

He said, chuckling with you as you nod, rubbing the lavender scented oils onto your hand shaped bruises that were left around your neck.

“Deal.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016 @spencer-reids-snow-white @sheepfather @eusuntgroot @libradolan @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @zhangyixingxing1 @secretpickleprofessordean @aquarius-pisces-rose @hopebaker @law-nerd105 @roses-and-grasses

[acciowests]

Birthday Banquet

WORD COUNT: 1375

SUMMARY: Elide and Manon’s first daughter is turning four, and what better way to celebrate than a small, family picnic in their local field.

"Quick, Mommy!" Ash squealed, rushing into the field, "We have to get the best spot!"

It was a warm day in mid-August, the sun shining down in Adarlan and prompting everyone out of their houses. Luckily, most people had gone to the beach, leaving the field near their house almost empty. An old couple were sat having lunch toward their left, a group of teens doing the same toward the back and a few people walking their dogs, but that was it. The perfect time for a picnic in honour of Ash's fourth birthday.

Elide closed the car door behind Ash, carrying the picnic basket and moving around to the other side of the car that faced the field. Manon was already opening the other door, unclipping Tarin from her seat. The six-month-old was ready to go, pulling on her mother's hair as she lifted her to her chest. Elide reached in to grab the backpack that held both Ash and Tarin's essentials, stopped by Manon who was already there and ready, "Don't worry, baby. I'll get these and you go after the birthday girl."

Looking at how content Tarin seemed and how Manon was clearly able to carry the bag and the baby, Elide gave a grateful smile, collecting the blankets from the trunk and hurrying after Ash who was already halfway across the grass. She was wearing a playsuit with puppies and kittens all over, something she had personally chosen when Elide had brought her along to the store. Her matching bucket hat was now in her hand, as opposed to on her head and stopping her from getting a headache from the sun.

"Hat on please, Ashy," Elide smiled, stopping beside her daughter, "Have you decided where you wanna sit?"

"Right here," Ash grinned, sitting immediately into a criss-cross position on the grass. Elide looked around, first at Manon making her way across the field, backpack hanging off one shoulder and Tarin against her chest, and then at the collection of trees, shaded from the sun and offering a view of the lake. That was the ideal place, especially with the heat, but she knew once Ash had decided on something it was final. And, it was her birthday.

"Here's fine, but put your hat on please otherwise we'll have to move to the shade, okay?" Elide set the basket down, laying out the blanket before joining her daughter on the ground.

"Kay, Mommy," she sighed, putting on her hat before diving immediately for the food as Elide opened up the basket. Manon soon reached the blanket, letting out a sigh as she placed the backpack to the side and settled down. Tarin was sat in her lap, determined to crawl onto the blanket and around the field despite the fact all she could do was roll.

"You okay?" Elide whispered, watching as Manon moved Tarin to her side, letting the baby grab at the grass, her chubby fingers pulling at the green strands. Ash was still snooping through the basket, sipping on a juice box happily as she searched for what she wanted to eat first.

Manon nodded, unzipping the bag and pulling out Tarin's hat and toys, "Yeah, I just would have preferred to sit in the shade."

Elide nodded knowingly, letting out a breathy chuckle as she lent to kiss her wife's cheek. "Does someone not like the sun?" she pouted, finally reaching for the basket and beginning to unwrap the sandwiches, giving the first to a very inpatient Ash who was practically buzzing.

Tarin gripped one of her toys, shaking it before putting it into her mouth, clamping down on it happily as Manon secured her hat to her head. The little one had begun teething, her first tooth officially through and the second on its way. She hadn't been too fussy, but there had been some moments where only a feed from Elide or a cuddle from Manon was enough to soothe her. Manon rolled her eyes playfully, taking her sandwich from the basket and turning to her wife, "You joke but I was more worried about Tarin. The car was warm enough, I don't want her getting sick where she's too hot."

Elide nodded, passing Ash a bottle of water, the four-year-old happy with her sandwich as she laid on her stomach, tickling her sister's toes and making her babble with a gummy smile. "She's fine, babe," she insisted, "Look at her, she's happy. We'll take a walk in the shade after we've eaten. Take her shoes and socks off if you're worried, but her cheeks aren't red or anything."

She just hummed, already reaching to remove the shoes and little floral socks Elide had dressed her in that morning. In the process, Ash pulled back, crumbs on her cheeks as she looked into the basket again, fingers searching. "Mommy," she started, "Can I have a cookie?"

"You absolutely can, birthday girl. I even added some of those yummy chocolate brownies Aunt Aelin made. Would you like one of those, too?" Elide asked, knowing she didn't even need to ask for Ash to want something that involved chocolate.

"Yes, pleaseee! Mama and Tarin want one?" Ash took the cookie first, taking hold of the brownie Elide offered her and munching down immediately into the chocolate cake.

"I'd love one," Manon smiled, reaching out her left hand, the other palm settled in front of Tarin, the babe gripping onto her mother's fingers with her chubby fists.

Elide pulled another out of the box Aelin had put them in, passing one to Manon and turning back to Ash who was eating both the cookie and the brownie, taking one bite of the other and then the next, "Rin can't have any yet, Ashy. She doesn't eat food, remember? Just Mommy's milk."

"Boobie milk!" Ash giggled, chocolate melting around her lips and on her fingers as she snacked. Elide only rolled her eyes playfully, nibbling on the sausage rolls and pastries they'd brought for more of a savoury treat.

"Speaking of," started Manon, lifting Tarin to her chest as she began to grumble, her hands in tight fists as she let out a small cry, "I think someone might be hungry."

Elide brushed her fingers on the napkins they'd brought, reaching for Tarin who was happily passed over, knowing she was getting what she wanted as she rested against her mother's chest. She stood, keeping Tarin close to her, her butt and head cupped by Elide's hands, "I'm going to take a walk with her, keep her in the cool while she feeds. Can you make sure Ash cleans that chocolate off her face and she eats something savoury? I don't need her buzzing off chocolate when she also has her cake later."

Manon nodded, already reaching for the wipes in the backpack, "Of course. Take her over to the trees, baby. Do you need a cloth or a bib?"

With one hand securely around Tarin, Elide started pulling down her dress strap, manoeuvring the front down so she could feed comfortably. She didn't tend to wear bras anymore, not when Tarin needed feeding every couple of hours. "Um, yeah. I'll just take a cloth, thanks love," she smiled, turning to Ash, "Mommy's just gonna feed Rin. Stay with Mama and let her know if you get too hot or anything, okay?"

Ash nodded happily, sipping on her water and waving with the other hand, "Kay, Mommy. Bye Rin-Rin!"

Taking the cloth from Manon, she rested it on her shoulder, lifting Tarin's little wrist to wave back at Ash as they made their way across the grass. Once they reached the trees, the shadow kissing their skin and offering a gentle breeze from the lake, Elide pulled down the front of her dress completely, letting Tarin latch onto her nipple as she began to rock, watching her precious baby girl as she sucked happily, eyes closed and lashes brushing her cheeks. She couldn't believe that she was already six months and that Ash was officially four. It felt like yesterday when she and Manon had started this whole process, and now here they were: two beautiful children and the most perfect family she could have ever dreamed of.

* * *

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[themilky-way]

when morning comes

gif credit: a7estrellas

pairing: din djarin/the mandalorian x reader

summary: din wakes up to you making breakfast, and the both of you share a moment

warnings: heat, stoves, a brief mention of burns, like one bad language word and the ending insinuates a smooch with this mf lmao

author’s note: pancakes don’t exist in this universe but they do now, you’re welcome lol

-----------

din’s morning had begun like it usually did. he’d woken up to a soft patch of light entering through his window, a small square of glass that wasn’t of much use. the sun was warmer than he’d ever felt it and for once in his life, he wanted to feel more of it.

 his armor awaited him on a stool adjacent to his bed that wasn’t really a bed, just a lumpy, rigid mattress that barely accommodated his posture. he sat up and dangled his feet for a while to regain his composure, since one of his many traits was being overly dizzy when he didn’t need to be. for example, he’d be in the middle of a quarrel when vertigo would strike him as fast as he could blink and without warning. he told himself that if he got it over with first thing in the morning, it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the future. so far it wasn’t working. 

slowly but surely, the mandalorian got dressed; pieces of his bare skin began to disappear like it meant nothing. cold metal replaced his natural warmth with ease. if he didn’t stop mid-plate to sit down again, it’d only take him a few minutes to complete his day-to-day look. today he’d done exactly that; his helmet and boots the only accessories yet to be placed on his form. when he did so, he pondered for a while about scattered topics and couldn’t quite settle on one. morning thinking had become a ritual of some sort, allowing the earnest man to diminish his ego. 

din almost missed the odd scent that flew by his nose. it was unlike anything he knew of: sweet and succulent with maker knows what other things. he was sure that whatever it was, it included a variety of spices. cinnamon and nutmeg mingled in the air of his dorm and played around him like children in a field of flowers. he was determined to keep the aroma inside for as long as possible, so he stood up to close the latch of his window. his helmet slipped over his head in an instant, eagerly almost, as if the faster he finished his routine, the sooner he could taste whatever it was he smelled. 

as he exited the cot, din’s steps were cautiously light against the metal of his ship. one of the last things he wanted to do was alarm the head chef into creating a spill or fire. the kitchen was compact and in a corner that needed to be rigorously searched for to find it. it wasn’t far, only a few feet away from where he had initially started his walk but his boots were heavy and unnecessarily noisy unless he was careful. 

he came to a halt at the entrance, a shoulder coming to rest against the doorframe. his arms were now crossed, not in a displeased way but more of surprise. the concoction of flavors were more prominent now than they’d been in his room, and he slowly breathed them in again. 

the rustling of pots and pans became clearer now as he stood there, and the person behind the apparent noise was too caught up in their task. they were rushing from one corner of the tiny kitchen to the other all while flipping some weird, round discs on a skillet. they were golden brown when they flipped them, and din took the abundance of bubbles popping on their surface as a sign that attention was needed. his eyes moved to scan another scene: his unofficial shipmate was occupied feeding the little greenling at the foot of the table. his hardly incoming set of teeth nibbled on a piece of the cooked bread, cooing with satisfaction at the sugary flavor. it stopped mid-bite after a few seconds, its big, rounded eyes flicking up towards the stove, then back to its (adoptive) dad.  

“you should probably take a look at the...cakes?” din finally asked you after a cloud of smoke started to form above them.

with a minor jump, you turned to face the man behind the inquiry before catching a glimpse at what he meant. you quickly made your way over and input the code to shut off the heat, brief curses leaving your mouth the entire time. “oh, kriff!” you exclaimed, “does this thing even work right-shit!”

“it hasn’t been used in ages. are you alright?” he moved into the tiny kitchen and motioned to your now burned skin. your pinky, instead of being its natural hue, was now bright red from its top edge to the bottom. from the ground, the baby made a sound of grievance and started to shuffle in your direction, its tiny hands reaching up when he finally reached you. din watched as you scooped him up with your good hand and into your arm, and he watched as you laughed lightly at the child’s reaction. 

intently watching the interaction, he failed to notice when your gaze fell upon him and observed his stance-stuck between coming to your aid or staying still. “i’m fine, it was just a small sting,” you clarified. it was hard to tell his expression with his face covered, but the way he tipped his helmet to one side prompted you to continue. “i promise it doesn’t even hurt anymore. watch,” you extended your hand outward for the mandalorian to examine, the other still holding a very lively baby. 

din’s gloved palm now supported yours from underneath and didn’t make haste in observing the abrasion. the fingers of his free hand grabbed your pinky and inspected the affected area. you recoiled immediately at the pain, slipping your hand away from his grip.

“you’re not a very decent liar,” he joked.

you shrugged, “i don’t like to worry you, that’s all.” the child was now on the floor again after you turned to collect the pancakes that remained edible, placing two on one plate and four on another. “i made you some breakfast, though i’m not..quite sure how to describe it,” you smiled. 

“i’ve got time,” he reached behind you to take the smaller portion, then walked to the table and pulled a chair out for him to sit. “what’s the honey for?” 

“oh, you drizzle that over these,” you pointed to the semi-charred discs. “they’re just cakes, and the syrup helps make them sweet.” 

before din could acknowledge what you had just said, and before he could even grab his fork, you switched his plate. now, he had four instead of two. he looked down for a few seconds, and then back up at you. 

“you need your strength, din’ika.” 

“i’m already strong.” 

“yes, but that doesn’t mean you should eat less,” you pointed out. 

he sighed, knowing full well that his reasoning matched yours to begin with and swallowed a rebuttal. he wished you could see the look of gratitude forming underneath his headgear, and he was about to show you until he realized he morally couldn’t, but the swift impulse to do so was too intriguing to let it slip, the urge too enthralling to not go through with it all. 

and you recognized his compulsion, you really did, yet you respected him in the same way he respected his creed. the only option, in the meantime, was to eat in differing rooms as you’ve previously done. 

“tell me if you like it,” you said at the doorway, your own plate with a jar of the same honey in hand. 

perhaps he was too captivated by the way his son waddled over to grip your other thumb as you left. it might’ve been the warmth of your skin still ingrained into his, or how he felt after he realized you’ve done all of this for him. 

a faint thud fell upon the ambiance when his helmet came off, followed by the squeaks of the cutlery scraping against the glass. the taste of honey mingled with the buttery cake in his mouth when he took his first bite, and faded after he took his last. he newly sensed it when din blurred your vision with a dark cloth, and it flowed into him once more when your taste danced on his tongue. 

and he simply couldn’t get enough.

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 16: Mini Elvis

The war god was waiting for us in the diner parking lot. "Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed." "You knew it was a trap," Percy hissed. Ares gave me a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV." Taking the shield from Percy I shoved it at him. "You're a jerk." Annabeth and Grover caught their breath. Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back. "See that truck over there?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas." The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which I could read only because it was reverse-printed white on black, a good combination for dyslexia: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS. Percy said, "You're kidding." Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job." He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy. Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuff Oreos. Percy said, "I don't want your lousy—" "Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving him his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot." I could see Percy gritting his teeth. It was probably a deadly insult to refuse something from a god, but I also didn't want anything that Ares had touched. Reluctantly, he swung the bag over his shoulder. I looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served us dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid Ares might hurt us. She dragged the fry cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of us. Great, I thought. We'll make the papers again tomorrow.

I imagined the headline: TWELVE-YEAR-OLD OUTLAWS BEATS UP DEFENSELESS BIKER. "You owe us one more thing," Percy told Ares, trying to keep my voice level. "You promised me information about our parents." "You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "They're not dead." The ground seemed to spin beneath me. "What do you mean?" "I mean Percy's mom was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept. As for yours, I saw them myself. Upstairs with the big guys. Why do you think you're causing one of the biggest uproar up there? They're refusing to tell who your parent is. No matter how much cut." He smirked. "What...?" Percy and the others must've seen something as they all held me back. "What are they doing to them?" I could feel the ground shake as Percy's grip on me tighten. We'll save them... calm down. Not the hero. Us. So calm down. "Calm down Y/N." Percy whispered. The ground stopped shaking and took a deep breath. "I will make you all kneel." I said. He looked at me confusedly. Then he shrug it off then laughed, "Oh yeah? can't wait, kid." Percy gripped my shoulder. "You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues." Behind his sunglasses, fire glowed. I felt a hot wind in my hair. "We'll meet again, Percy Jackson. Next time you're in a fight, watch your back." He revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancy Street. Annabeth said, "That was not smart, Percy." "I don't care." "You don't want a god as your enemy. Especially not that god." "Hey, guys," Grover said. "I hate to interrupt, but ..." He pointed toward the diner. At the register, the last two customers were paying their check, two men in identical black coveralls, with a white logo on their backs that matched the one on the KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL truck. "If we're taking the zoo express," Grover said, "we need to hurry." I didn't like it, but we had no better option. Besides, I'd seen enough of Denver. We ran across the street and climbed in the back of the big rig, closing the doors behind us. The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was like the world's biggest pan of kitty litter. The trailer was dark inside until Percy uncapped Riptide. The blade cast a faint bronze light over a very sad scene. Sitting in a row of filthy metal cages were three of the most pathetic zoo animals I'd ever beheld: a zebra, a male albino lion, and some weird antelope thing I didn't know the name for. Someone had thrown the lion a sack of turnips, which he obviously didn't want to eat. The zebra and the antelope had each gotten a Styrofoam tray of hamburger meat. The zebra's mane was matted with chewing gum, like somebody had been spitting on it in their spare time. The antelope had a stupid silver birthday balloon tied to one of his horns that read OVER THE HILL! Apparently, nobody had wanted to get close enough to the lion to mess with him, but the poor thing was pacing around on soiled blankets, in a space way too small for him, panting from the stuffy heat of the trailer. He had flies buzzing around his pink eyes and his ribs showed through his white fur. "This is kindness?" Grover yelled. "Humane zoo transport?" He probably would've gone right back outside to beat up the truckers with his reed pipes, and we would've helped him, but just then the trucks engine roared to life, the trailer started shaking, and we were forced to sit down or fall down. We huddled in the corner on some mildewed feed sacks, trying to ignore the smell and the heat and the flies. Grover talked to the animals in a series of goat bleats, but they just stared at him sadly. Annabeth was in favor of breaking the cages and freeing them on the spot, but I pointed out it wouldn't do much good until the truck stopped moving. Besides, I had a feeling we might look a lot better to the lion than those turnips. I found a water jug and refilled their bowls, then Percy used Riptide to drag the mismatched food out of their cages. He gave the meat to the lion and the turnips to the zebra and the antelope. Grover calmed the antelope down, while I used my knife to cut the balloon off his horn. Annabeth wanted to cut the gum out of the zebra's mane, too, but we decided that would be too risky with the truck bumping around. We told Grover to promise the animals we'd help them more in the morning, then we settled in for night. Grover curled up on a turnip sack; Annabeth opened our bag of Double Stuff Oreos and nibbled on one halfheartedly; I tried to cheer myself up by concentrating on the fact that we were halfway to Los Angeles. Halfway to our destination. It was only June fourteenth. The solstice wasn't until the twenty-first. We could make it in plenty of time. On the other hand, I had no idea what to expect next. The gods kept toying with me. At least Hephaestus had the decency to be honest about it—he'd put up cameras and advertised me as entertainment. But even when the cameras weren't rolling, I had a feeling my quest was being watched. I was a source of amusement for the gods. And it wasn't helping knowing they're hurting my parents. Here I was risking my life for them and what are they doing? "Hey," Percy cooed, "We'll save them. No matter what. I promised you that." "Okay." Percy pulled me closer until I was resting on him. Annabeth cleared her throat. "Hey, sorry I wasn't much help back at the park... I could've helped getting you guys out... It's just..." She shuddered. "Spiders." "Because of the Arachne story," I guessed. "She got turned into a spider for challenging your mom to a weaving contest, right?" She nodded. "Arachne's children have been taking revenge on the children of Athena ever since. If there's a spider within a mile of me, it'll find me. I hate the creepy little things." "We're a team, remember?" Percy said. "Besides, Grover did the fancy flying. All we did was grab the shield." I thought he was asleep, but he mumbled from the corner, "I was pretty amazing, wasn't I?" Annabeth, Percy and I laughed. She pulled apart an Oreo, handed me and Percy a half each. "In the Iris message... did Luke really say nothing?" I munched my cookie and thought about how to answer. The conversation via rainbow had bothered me all evening. "Luke said you and he go way back. He also said Grover wouldn't fail this time. Nobody would turn into a pine tree." Percy answered. In the dim bronze light of the sword blade, it was hard to read their expressions. Grover let out a mournful bray. "I should've told you the truth from the beginning." His voice trembled. "I thought if you knew what a failure I was, you wouldn't want me along." "You were the satyr who tried to rescue Thalia, the daughter of Zeus." He nodded glumly. "And the other two half-bloods Thalia befriended, the ones who got safely to camp..." Percy looked at Annabeth. "That was you and Luke, wasn't it?" She put down her Oreo, uneaten. "Like you said, Percy, a seven-year-old half-blood wouldn't have made it very far alone. Athena guided me toward help. Thalia was twelve. Luke was fourteen. They'd both run away from home, like me. They were happy to take me with them. They were... amazing monster-fighters, even without training. We traveled north from Virginia without any real plans, fending off monsters for about two weeks before Grover found us." "I was supposed to escort Thalia to camp," he said, sniffling. "Only Thalia. I had strict orders from Chiron: don't do anything that would slow down the rescue. We knew Hades was after her, see, but I couldn't just leave Luke and Annabeth by themselves. I thought... I thought I could lead all three of them to safety. It was my fault the Kindly Ones caught up with us. I froze. I got scared on the way back to camp and took some wrong turns. If I'd just been a little quicker..." "Stop it," Annabeth said. "No one blames you. Thalia didn't blame you either." "She sacrificed herself to save us," he said miserably, "Her death was my fault. The Council of Cloven Elders said so." "Because you wouldn't leave two other half-bloods behind?" Percy said. "That's not fair." "Percy's right," Annabeth said. "I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you, Grover. Neither would Luke. We don't care what the council says." Grover kept sniffling in the dark. "It's just my luck. I'm the lamest satyr ever, and I find the two most powerful half-bloods of the century, Thalia and Percy." "You're not lame," Annabeth insisted. "You've got more courage than any satyr I've ever met. Name one other who would dare go to the Underworld. I bet Percy is really glad you're here right now." She kicked me in the shin. "Yeah," I said, which I would've done even without the kick. "It's not luck that you found Thalia and Percy, Grover. You've got the biggest heart of any satyr ever. You're a natural searcher. That's why you'll be the one who finds Pan. I mean, you found me despite my scentlessness... is that a word?" Percy muffled a laugh. I heard a deep, satisfied sigh. I waited for Grover to say something, but his breathing only got heavier. When the sound turned to snoring, I realized he'd fallen sleep. "How does he do that?" I marveled. "I don't know," Annabeth said. "But that was really a nice thing you told him." "I meant it." We rode in silence for a few miles, bumping around on the feed sacks. The zebra munched a turnip. The lion licked the last of the hamburger meat off his lips and looked at me hopefully. Percy didn't take long to fall asleep. Annabeth rubbed her necklace like she was thinking deep, strategic thoughts. "That pine-tree bead," I said. "Is that from your first year?" She looked. She hadn't realized what she was doing. "Yeah," she said. "Every August, the counselors pick the most important event of the summer, and they paint it on that year's beads. I've got Thalia's pine tree, a Greek trireme on fire, a centaur in a prom dress—now that was a weird summer...." "And the college ring is your father's?" "That's none of your—" She stopped herself. "Yeah. Yeah, it is." "You don't have to tell me." "No... it's okay." She took a shaky breath. "My dad sent it to me folded up in a letter, two summers ago. The ring was, like, his main keepsake from Athena. He wouldn't have gotten through his doctoral program at Harvard without her.... That's a long story. Anyway, he said he wanted me to have it. He apologized for being a jerk, said he loved me and missed me. He wanted me to come home and live with him." "That doesn't sound so bad." "Yeah, well... the problem was, I believed him. I tried to go home for that school year, but my stepmom was the same as ever. She didn't want her kids put in danger by living with a freak. Monsters attacked. We argued. Monsters attacked. We argued. I didn't even make it through winter break. I called Chiron and came right back to Camp Half-Blood." She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Please. I'm not into self-inflicted pain." "You shouldn't give up," I told her. "You should write him a letter or something." "Thanks for the advice," she said coldly, "but my father's made his choice about who he wants to live with." We passed another few miles of silence. "Luke actually told me about you two coming to camp already." "Really?" She looked at me amazed. "You two must've gotten close fast." "Well, I don't know. I feel like I had to talk to Luke. Like I had to be there for him. The same with Percy." We have to be there for both "You're not wrong. I'm not sure how I'd be without your help." Percy yawned. "Yeah, I wouldn't have been able to handle him." Annabeth glared at him. I laughed, "I think you two are cute." Both of them blushed and said some excuse to disprove me. Which then turned into them showing off who's better than who. "If I'm dating anyone it'll be Y/N!" Both of them huffed and glared at each other. I shook my head and smiled. At least I've gotten new friends out of this. "So," Percy trailed off. "If the gods fight," he said, "will things line up the way they did with the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?" Annabeth put her head against the backpack Ares had given us, and closed her eyes. "I don't know what my mom will do. I just know I'll fight next to you." "Why?" "Because Y/N will and whether I like it or not you're my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?" "That's all Mr. Peabody." "Shut up, Droopy." I felt her rest on my shoulder and she fell asleep. "Am I that comfortable?" "Yeah," Percy laughed as he rested on my lap. I had trouble following their example, with Grover snoring and an albino lion staring hungrily at me, but eventually I closed my eyes. ~~~ I woke with a start. I was second one awake. Grover was talking to the antelope. "Morning?" "Everyone had the Y/N privilege except me?" "You fell asleep first." I stroked both Annabeth and Percy's hair, which unfortunately woke up Annabeth. "Sorry about that." "It's fine." She yawned. She brought out some Oreo and handed me one. Until the truck stopped. "They're checking the animals aren't they?" Annabeth froze. I shook Percy's shoulder. "The truck's stopped," I said. "We think they're coming to check on the animals." "Hide!" Annabeth hissed. She had it easy. She just put on her magic cap and disappeared. Grover, Percy and I had to dive behind feed sacks and hope we looked like turnips. The trailer doors creaked open. Sunlight and heat poured in. "Man!" one of the truckers said, waving his hand in front of his ugly nose. "I wish I hauled appliances." He climbed inside and poured some water from a jug into the animals' dishes. "You hot, big boy?" he asked the lion, then splashed the rest of the bucket right in the lion's face. The lion roared in indignation. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man said. Next to me, under the turnip sacks, Grover tensed. For a peace-loving herbivore, he looked downright murderous. The trucker threw the antelope a squashed-looking Happy Meal bag. He smirked at the zebra. "How ya doin', Stripes? Least we'll be getting rid of you this stop. You like magic shows? You're gonna love this one. They're gonna saw you in half!" The zebra, wild-eyed with fear, looked straight at us. There was a loud knock, knock, knock on the side of the trailer. The trucker inside with us yelled, "What do you want, Eddie?" A voice outside—it must've been Eddie's—shouted back, "Maurice? What'd ya say?" "What are you banging for?" Knock, knock, knock. Outside, Eddie yelled, "What banging?" Our guy Maurice rolled his eyes and went back outside, cursing at Eddie for being an idiot. A second later, Annabeth appeared next to me. She must've done the banging to get Maurice out of the trailer. She said, "This transport business can't be legal." "No kidding," Grover said. He paused, as if listening. "The lion says these guys are animal smugglers!" "We've got to free them!" Grover said. He and Annabeth both looked at Percy, waiting for his say. "Percy, open the lock." I snapped at his face. Outside, Eddie and Maurice were still yelling at each other, but I knew they'd be coming inside to torment the animals again any minute. He grabbed Riptide and slashed the lock off the zebra's cage. The zebra burst out. It turned to Percy and bowed. Grover held up his hands and said something to the zebra in goat talk, like a blessing. Just as Maurice was poking his head back inside to check out the noise, the zebra leaped over him and into the street. There was yelling and screaming and cars honking. We rushed to the doors of the trailer in time to see the zebra galloping down a wide boulevard lined with hotels and casinos and neon signs. We'd just released a zebra in Las Vegas. Maurice and Eddie ran after it, with a few policemen running after them, shouting, "Hey! You need a permit for that!" "Now would be a good time to leave," Annabeth said. "The other animals first," Grover said. I cut the locks with my knife which wasn't as easy as what Percy had done. Grover raised his hands and spoke the same goat-blessing he'd used for the zebra. "Good luck," I told the animals. The antelope and the lion burst out of their cages and went off together into the streets. Some tourists screamed. Most just backed off and took pictures, probably thinking it was some kind of stunt by one of the casinos. "Will the animals be okay?" I asked Grover. "I mean, the desert and all—" "Don't worry," he said. "I placed a satyr's sanctuary on them." "Meaning?" "Meaning they'll reach the wild safely," he said. "They'll find water, food, shade, whatever they need until they find a safe place to live." "Why can't you place a blessing like that on us?" I asked. "It only works on wild animals." "So it would only affect Percy," Annabeth reasoned. "Hey!" He protested. "Kidding," she said. "Come on. Let's get out of this filthy truck." We stumbled out into the desert afternoon. It was a hundred and ten degrees, easy, and we must've looked like deep-fried vagrants, but everybody was too interested in the wild animals to pay us much attention. We passed the Monte Carlo and the MGM. We passed pyramids, a pirate ship, and the Statue of Liberty, which was a pretty small replica, but still made me homesick. I wasn't sure what we were looking for. Maybe just a place to get out of the heat for a few minutes, find a sandwich and a glass of lemonade, make a new plan for getting west. We must have taken a wrong turn, because we found ourselves at a dead end, standing in front of the Lotus Hotel and Casino. The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air-conditioning that smelled like flowers—lotus blossom, maybe. I'd never smelled one, so I wasn't sure. The doorman smiled at us. "Hey, kids. You look tired. You want to come in and sit down?" I'd learned to be suspicious, the last week or so. I figured anybody might be a monster or a god. But my knife wasn't glowing so... I figured. Besides, I was so relieved to hear somebody who sounded sympathetic that I nodded and said we'd love to come in. Inside, we took one look around, and Grover said, "Whoa." The whole lobby was a giant game room. And I'm not talking about cheesy old Pac-Man games or slot machines. There was an indoor waterslide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building, and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, you name it, this place had it. There were a few other kids playing, but not that many. No waiting for any of the games. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of food you can imagine. "Hey!" a bellhop said. At least I guessed he was a bellhop. He wore a white-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt with lotus designs, shorts, and flip-flops. "Welcome to the Lotus Casino. Here's your room key." I stammered, "Um, but..." "No, no," he said, laughing. "The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, loom 4001. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk. Here are your Lotus Cash cards. They work in the restaurants and on all the games and rides." He handed us each a green plastic credit card. I knew there must be some mistake. Obviously he thought we were some millionaire's kids. But I took the card and said, "How much is on here?" His eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?" "I mean, when does it run out of cash?" He laughed. "Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay." We took the elevator upstairs and checked out our room. It was a suite with three separate bedrooms and a bar stocked with candy, sodas, and chips. A hotline to room service. Fluffy towels and water beds with feather pillows. A big-screen television with satellite and high-speed Internet. The balcony had its own hot tub, and sure enough, there was a skeet-shooting machine and a shotgun, so you could launch clay pigeons right out over the Las Vegas skyline and plug them with your gun. I didn't see how that could be legal, but I thought it was pretty cool. The view over the Strip and the desert was amazing, though I doubted we'd ever find time to look at the view with a room like this. "Oh, goodness," Annabeth said. "This place is ..." "Sweet," Grover said. "Absolutely sweet." There were clothes in the closet, and they fit me. I frowned, thinking that this was a little strange. I took a shower, which felt awesome after a week of grimy travel. I changed clothes, ate a bag of chips, drank three Cokes, and came out feeling better than I had in a long time. Search and find them Huh? Look for them and warn them I came out of the bedroom and found that Annabeth, Percy and Grover had also showered and changed clothes. Grover was eating potato chips to his heart's content, Percy looked like he was having a headache, while Annabeth cranked up the National Geographic Channel. "Percy you okay?" "Yeah it's just.... All those stations," he told Annabeth, "and she turn on National Geographic." "It's interesting." "I feel good," Grover said. "I love this place." Without his even realizing it, the wings sprouted out of his shoes and lifted him a foot off the ground, then back down again. "So what now?" Annabeth asked. "Sleep?" Percy and I looked at each other and grinned. We both held up our green plastic Lotus Cash cards. "Play time," I said. I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun. I came from a relatively poor family. Our idea of a splurge was eating out at Burger King and renting a video. A five-star Vegas hotel? Forget it. I spent most of my time playing and... looking for someone I think. I bungee-jumped the lobby five or six times, snowboarded the artificial ski slope, and played virtual-reality laser tag and FBI sharpshooter. I saw Grover a few times, going from game to game. He really liked the reverse hunter thing—where the deer go out and shoot the rednecks. I saw Annabeth playing trivia games and other brainiac stuff. They had this huge 3-D sim game where you build your own city, and you could actually see the holographic buildings rise on the display board. I didn't think much of it, but Annabeth loved it. Percy was playing with Grover. I'm not sure when I first realized something was wrong. Probably, it was when I noticed the guy standing next to me at VR sharpshooters. He was about thirteen, I guess, but his clothes were weird. I thought he was some Elvis impersonator's son. He wore bell-bottom jeans and a red T-shirt with black piping, and his hair was permed and gelled like a New Jersey girl's on homecoming night. When he saw me he gave a smirk and invited me to play a game of sharpshooters together and he said, "Groovy, man. Been here two weeks, and the games keep getting better and better." Groovy? Later, while we were talking, I said something was "sick," and he looked at me kind of startled, as if he'd never heard the word used that way before. He said his name was Darrin, but as soon as I started asking him questions he got bored with me and started to go back to the computer screen. I said, "Hey, Darrin?" "What?" "What year is it?" He frowned at me. "In the game?" "No. In real life." He had to think about it. "1977." "No," I said, getting a little scared. "Really." "Hey, man. Bad vibes. I got a game happening." After that he totally ignored me. I started talking to people, and I found it wasn't easy. They were glued to the TV screen, or the video game, or their food, or whatever. I found a guy who told me it was 1985. Another guy told me it was 1993. They all claimed they hadn't been in here very long, a few days, a few weeks at most. They didn't really know and they didn't care. Then it occurred to me: how long had I been here? It seemed like only a couple of hours, but was it? I then tried to move, but I bumped into a girl. "I'm sorry!" She said. "Hey, no prob." "Oh... uhm... No prob?" "I--- No problem. Say Uh... I kinda lost track of date. What's the year again?" "Huh? It's 1930. Okay, I'm sorry I have to go. I'm looking for someone." Everyone is important in our story "Did you say something?" I go by Y/N L/N, you'll find the one you're looking for at the zombie shooting game. I left her alone and confused. I didn't know why. But I knew now this place is wrong. I tried to remember why we were here. We were going to Los Angeles. We were supposed to find the entrance to the Underworld. My parents... for a scary second, I had trouble remembering their names. I had to save them. I found Percy first. "There's something wrong." We said at the same time. "Years?" He asked. I nodded. We then looked for the others. We found Annabeth still building her city. "Come on," Percy told her. "We've got to get out of here." No response. I shook her. "Annabeth?" She looked up, annoyed. "What? "We need to leave." "Leave? What are you talking about? I've just got the towers—" "This place is a trap." She didn't respond until I shook her again. "What?" "Listen. The Underworld. Our quest!" "Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes." "Annabeth, there are people here from 1977. Kids who have never aged. You check in, and you stay forever." "So?" she asked. "Can you imagine a better place?" I grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the game. "Hey!" She screamed and hit me, but nobody else even bothered looking at us. They were too busy. I made her look directly in my eyes. I said, "Spiders. Large, hairy spiders." That jarred her. Her vision cleared. "Oh my gods," she said. "How long have we—" "I don't know, but we've got to find Grover." We went searching, and found him still playing Virtual Deer Hunter. "Grover!" we both shouted. He said, "Die, human! Die, silly polluting nasty person!" "Grover!" He turned the plastic gun on me and started clicking, as if I were just another image from the screen. I looked at Percy, and together we took Grover by the arms and dragged him away. His flying shoes sprang to life and started tugging his legs in the other direction as he shouted, "No! I just got to a new level! No!" The Lotus bellhop hurried up to us. "Well, now, are you ready for your platinum cards?" "We're leaving," I told him. "Such a shame," he said, and I got the feeling that he really meant it, that we'd be breaking his heart if we went. "We just added an entire new floor full of games for platinum-card members." He held out the cards, and I wanted one. I knew that if I took one, I'd never leave. I'd stay here, happy forever, playing games forever, and soon I'd forget my parents, and our quest, and maybe even my own name. I'd be playing virtual rifleman with groovy Disco Darrin forever. Grover reached for the card, but Annabeth yanked back his arm and said, "No, thanks." We walked toward the door, and as we did, the smell of the food and the sounds of the games seemed to get more and more inviting. I thought about our room upstairs. We could just stay the night, sleep in a real bed for once.... Then we burst through the doors of the Lotus Casino and ran down the sidewalk. It felt like afternoon, about the same time of day we'd gone into the casino, but something was wrong. The weather had completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert. I ran to the nearest newspaper stand and read the year first. Thank the gods, it was the same year it had been when we went in. Then I noticed the date: June twentieth. We had been in the Lotus Casino for five days. We had only one day left until the summer solstice. One day to complete our quest.

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Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000 @katara720 @ynfics

[noctis-noctua]

I, Kaeya Alberich, Take Thee

Pairing: Kaeya x Fem. Reader

Count: 1976

Description: Kaeya knows that be does not deserve anything he desires. There is nothing he can do to make you his, but so badly does he wish there was.

Content: Unrequited love, angst, bittersweet ending, marriage.

Warnings: Slight spoiler for Kaeya's backstory but an addition of (non-canon!) Prince Kaeya.

In another universe, maybe I am not cursed so by the Gods. Kaeya resists the urge to nibble on the tail-end of his quill. It was unbecoming for a man of his stature to succumb to unsanitary habits. Plus, this particular pen hailed from a crow’s feather, hunted by the hands of a childhood friend. The intricate quill had not been put to use for a substantial amount of time, but it fits into Kaeya’s hand as if it came to shape its spine based on the curvature of his own grasp. He could get used to signing off documents and organizing civil affairs if it meant succumbing to such mundane sensations. The morning sun dripping onto his mahogany desks and floors, a faint scratch of keratin against ivory paper filling the empty space… It has been a long time since he’s made the decision to take over petty bureau duties. Today is a special day. Kaeya needs to focus on the satisfying echoes of paper and pen, on the sunlight heating his back, or he might just go insane.

    The clamor of bells tugs Kaeya from his mechanical performance. Each ring is a song of desperation, a performance begging for his attention. Come out and celebrate! Indulge in the pain. He is not a man that falls prey to anger, but he cannot help that frustrated itch in his stomach as he hears the iron reverberating. Please just be quiet, Kaeya thinks. Let me forget. The hesitant croak of his door alerts Kaeya to the presence of the Acting Grand Master. She dons an outfit unique from her usual uniform - a cream-colored dress, embroidered by floral lace, a single azure ribbon tying at the waist. So even the straight-edged Jean has taken time off today? 

    “Kaeya, you can’t make these excuses forever.” He knows from how Jean closes the door with unperturbed silence that this is not a conversation regarding hilichurl nests or Fatui diplomats. He can tell from the way Jean drops the mature title of ‘Sir’ in favor of his childhood nickname, that it is a conversation Jean feels must be approached with gentleness as if Kaeya is a stray cat that claws at feeding hands. The Grand Master releases a heaved exhale because both of them dread this discussion as much as the other. There is an inherent wrong in seeing Kaeya distressed. He may not be shedding tears in solitude or resigning himself to the dormitories, but he is hiding, and that is enough for Jean to observe that he is not functioning as normal.

    “Please, come for a little while. I know it’s not… something you want to see, but he’s your brother. Offer a small congratulations at the least.” Her heels tap on the polished hardwood.

    “I was planning on coming by later this evening.  Tell them I’m sorry for not being able to attend the main event. How could I? Just look at all this paperwork.” Kaeya’s signature chuckle follows, putting up a front of careless flirtation. It is not uncommon for Jean to rope the Cavalry Captain into his desk chair. Lord knows he’d never do it otherwise… yet now he claims servitude to the dulling labor. How ironic. 

    “I’ll tell them of your apologies… but both of us know that paperwork isn’t the reason you can’t make it.” Jean turns around, blonde hair trailing in the breeze left behind before Kaeya can quip up a rebuttal. She’s right. Jean is always right. The papers piling on his desk are from the drawers of his subordinates, filed away to be completed in another five months' time. There is no reason they had to be done today. He is hiding. He is a coward and a pathetic one at that. The thought alone provokes Kaeya to tug on his studded gloves and push out his chair. His sights are set on leaving because to be seen as a frail child is to fail at the sole thing he succeeds at. Being the chivalrous Cavalry Captain renowned for his beauty and failsafe charm is the one thing he cannot lose because he cannot let Mondstadt see how fragile he is behind the visage. 

    Mondstadt’s avenues are bustling. Oak tables identical to the ones across local taverns have been dressed in linen tablecloths and topped with miniature feasts. Children run between tables, tugging at each other’s shirts in a feisty game of tag as festive music tempts the adults to a dance. The tell-tale strums of Mondstadt’s No. 1 Bard’s lyre lead the crowds to the statue of Barbatos. Behind it, trails of petals line the paths leading to the limestone Cathedral. Couples, singles, and families alike make haste to enter through the carved doors. No one wants to miss this. Kaeya tugs on the collar of his fur coat, gazing at the entry before him. He can hear the music of an organ, romantic and rich, ricocheting from inside. 

    He steps into the Cathedral. The ceremony has yet to start and the pews continue to fill. Citizens scoot as close as possible to allow for more onlookers to take a seat. He finds a spot next to Huffman and a few other Knights, squished on the outer edge. It is three benches from the front. Too close for Kaeya to be comfortable. The croaking benches have long since met their capacity by now. Not a soul is missing, Kaeya reckons. Diluc Ragnvindr, the wine Tycoon, Mondstadt’s famous magnate, is marrying after all. It is no small occasion. Diluc’s brazen hair is a torch amidst fog, its perk hue garnering the eyes of all in the Cathedral. He is dressed in a suave black suit. It boasts minuscule gold embellishments followed by a hefty crimson cape draped on his shoulders. Even dressed in the furs and fabrics of royalty, one could sense a distinct awkwardness from him. If you’re going to marry her, at least look confident, brother. 

    It hurts. He cannot lie to himself - not that Kaeya was trying to in the first place. There is a pain associated with seeing the woman he loves marrying the brother that no longer desires to even speak to him. Now, Kaeya regrets standing up from his busy work. These thoughts won’t stop their festering, and it punches a hole through his stomach. Kaeya is all-too-aware that tonight, you will climb into Diluc’s sheets. He’d treat you kindly, of course. He grew up with Diluc and has seen his rigorous nobility tutors shape him into the gentleman he is today. There is no doubt that you will live a lavish life of luxury. A life Kaeya could never afford to give you. 

    In Khaenri’ah, Kaeya’s title of ‘Prince’ holds as much merit as it does in Teyvat. His people are dead or suffering. His city has crumbled into dust and shards of a forgotten legacy. Kaeya himself serves one purpose, and that is to bring glory back to the Eclipse Dynasty. It is in these times that Kaeya regrets being born royalty to a lost nation. In the solace of his chambers, Kaeya would stare at the painted ceiling and ponder. If I were born someone else entirely, would you give me a chance? But who is he kidding? Kaeya knows he’s handsome. It’s stupid and unreasonable to be so self-deprecating. He isn’t the one marrying you because he wasn’t Diluc Ragnvindr. He wasn’t from a line of Mondstadtian heroes; he was from the ashes of sinners and embers of civilization. He was Kaeya Alberich, Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, caught between familial loyalty and a stinging betrayal. Of course he wasn’t marrying you. 

    The Cathedral doors groan as the nuns heave them open. Light floods in and frames the feminine body of the lady of Mondstadt. In your hands, a bouquet of calla lilies. On your body, a silken robe of pearls and diamonds. It flows at your back, fluttering in the blessed gales of Barbatos’. Kaeya swore that as a Khaenri’ahn, he would never see the Gates of Celestia. But this… this, he thinks, might be the closest glimpse he gets. No one dares to speak. She is beautiful. She has always been beautiful. Time slows as Kaeya lets himself take in the sight of you pledging your livelihood to his brother, and his brother’s livelihood to you. 

     Then, as if he is an innocent child once again, Kaeya closes his eyes as you two kiss. Clapping and cheers fill the atmosphere. 

    “To the Ragnvindr’s! Oley!”

    “Say, Kaeya, do you ever wanna get married?” The girl questions from Kaeya’s backside. 

    “Maybe. Then I can show off in front of my lovely wife! That would be cool, wouldn’t it, Diluc?” Kaeya jests, elbowing his step-brother’s chest. Diluc rolls his eyes, ever the prodigy. 

    “We’re still young. There’s no use thinking about such things. Shouldn’t you focus on training?” He grumbles. Kaeya knows that he will never have a lucky wife. He will never have a healthy family, or a thriving home, or a genuine relationship. Those are nothing more than dreams to Kaeya.

    The girl grabs Kaeya’s arm and begins running into the fields of grapes and firs. There is a childlike giggle dispersing for all in the neighborhood to hear, fading out as they lose sight of the manor. Reaching the edge of the cliffside, they halt. It overlooks a sapphire river below, fit for one of Master Crepus’ paintings. Diluc had been abandoned long ago. 

    “Hey, Kaeya, the water kind of looks like your hair.” The girl remarks, nuzzling closer to him. He feels his heart thrashing in its cage, begging him not to react, begging him not to ruin the fate of his country. To the girl, he smells of linen, lampgrass, and sweat, much as a kid his age should. Silence settles onto their shoulders, both of them catching breaths that had been stolen in the wind. “I didn’t ask before because I thought Diluc would get mad, but… Kaeya, how about we get married when we grow up?” How silly, Kaeya thinks. I couldn’t marry you if I wanted to. 

    “Hmm, okay. So you’ll be my lucky wife then?” Kaeya plummets down onto the grass and grins. It tickles the back of his neck and stains his blouse a verdant green. He dreams of dreaming, because that is all Khaenri’ahns like him can do. He dreams of coming home to your embrace or trudging back from battle hand-in-hand. Either one is okay. Anything with you is okay. 

    “Of course, stupid. That’s what marriage is. So you’ll be my lucky husband!” Lucky husband. It fills his heart with an immature pride too chaste for a traitor of his caliber. 

    “Deal!” 

    “Deal.” 

    They are naive children making impossible promises, but a part of Kaeya has never unlatched from those delicate whispers. Khaenri’ahns dream of dreaming, but just this once, Kaeya wished he could dream of you.

    “So, Sir Kaeya, are you going to marry soon? Youth is fleeting! Get a wife while you’re young.” One of the Knights suggests, sliding him a suggestive beam. Kaeya let’s himself open his eyes. He processes the blinding light from colored panes of glass spilling over him, the jovial expressions of the citizens he has sworn to protect, and you grasping onto Diluc’s arm, a longing of adoration phasing across your features. Happy. You are happy. He turns towards the knight, cracking a smile.

    “Don’t be silly - I’m already married, Huffman.” He lets the novice soldier ogle at him for a few seconds. “I’m joking. Lighten up.” Huffman releases a hearty chortle, commenting on his Captain’s sense of humor and putting a hand to his chest. He laughs along, but Kaeya knows there is no joke. 

Don’t be silly. I’m already married. It was a deal, after all.

[ahh-fxck]

i was thinking about geralt & eskel and how when they cross each other on the path, they spend time together. eating and sleeping together side by side. and more specifically i was reflecting about the parallels and differences of them now vs them as young boys and it makes me go ahhhh

Ohhh, @geraltsays, your mind! I love it. I got inspired and wrote a very softe piece of smut, I hope you enjoy it!

Reunion

Geralt catches the scent long before he hears the footsteps in the forest. By the time the man in a red gambeson and long dark cloak emerges from the forest leading a horse, Geralt has cleared an extra place by the fire. Next to it, there is a cloth set out with dry cheese, hard bread, and some withered apples. On the fire itself is simmering a little pot of broth, fragrant with herbs.

When he steps into the clearing, Geralt looks up at last into golden eyes, warm and soft as honey. Eskel is finally here.

“Hey, Wolf.” Eskel greets him.

Geralt grins, nods to the spot next to him. Then, heart already thawing as if after a long winter, he returns to the task of caring for his blade.

A small smile pulls at Eskel's scarred face, lighting it handsomely. Turning away, he gently murmurs to his horse as he begins to unpack and groom her.

Content, Geralt returns to sharpening and oiling his blades by the fire. He barely looks up when Eskel settles at his side. Without a word Eskel places a full wine skin on the cloth. This is followed by a packet of waxed paper that turns out to contain slightly smooshed sweet nut cakes.

Geralt gives his blade a keen, considering look, gives it one last swipe with his polishing cloth, then sheathes it. Only then does he turn his full attention to Eskel crouched companionably at his side. A rush of warmth goes through Geralt as he sees Eskel smile again, one eyebrow going up.

“Brother.” Geralt growls, reaching over and pulling Eskel into a tight hug. “You’re alive.”

A deep, dark chuckle shakes Eskel as he embraces Geralt fiercely back. “Good to see you too.” The greeting is almost as old as they are, old as their long years on the path. When they first ventured out of Kaer Morhen, the Path had led them away from one another.

Each of them had dealt with it in his own way. Geralt had packed his heart in a box, certain that he would never see his beloved brother again. Eskel, on the other hand, was certain that Geralt was always around the next corner, always waiting to be rediscovered.

So far, Eskel had been the one who was right.

Geralt rumbles happily as he noses into the soft spot behind Eskel’s ear, a galaxy of scent unfurling as he snuffles the sweet-smelling skin. Blood, steel, horse, leather, crushed vegetation, the scents of travel fade away until all he can smell is Eskel himself, warm baked bread and ripe apples in sunlight, a homey, comforting smell.

Affectionately, Geralt nips at the skin of Eskel’s neck. His brother laughs and paws him away. Geralt smiles at him, eyes dancing in the firelight. When they were boys, they had to hide their affection in rough-and-tumble play to avoid their instructors’ wrath. Now, here in the forest, they are free to take their ease. Eskel smiles like he knows what Geralt is remembering, bringing his hand up to cup Geralt’s cheek. They lean together, moving as one person. When their lips finally touch, all the months since they’ve last seen each other feel as if they are wiped away and they are home again.

Home has never been a place. It was never cold Kaer Morhen, ancient stones soaked in blood. There were no welcoming places on the Path to settle. No, home is embracing arms and honey colored eyes. It is crooked smiles and wicked in-jokes with ninety-year histories. It’s naked legs tangled together under spread cloaks. Acceptance, companionship, kindness.

When they part, Eskel’s eyes gleam happily. He strokes his fingers through Geralt’s white hair, thumbs the delicate shell of his ear, drinking him in. Geralt hums and lets out a deep sigh, face softening as Eskel tickles the back of his neck with a gentle touch. Turning his head, he catches Eskel’s hand in his own and kisses his scarred palm.

Eskel chuckles. He leans back from Geralt, turning and picking up one of the sticky nut cakes and offering it to him. Geralt takes it with a crooked smile. It’s sticky, and Eskel’s fingertips are covered in honey. Eskel sticks his fingers thoughtlessly into his mouth, sucking the sweetness off of them. Then he swipes the wine skin and uncorks it, taking a swig.

Geralt takes a bite of the sweet cake, a low rumble of pleasure escaping him. He doesn’t indulge in sweet treats very often. Better that Roach have good feed and his armor be in good repair. Eskel was a little more indulgent, especially when it came to treats shared with his brother. Treats and sweets hadn’t featured large in their upbringing, and any rare delicacies were usually hoarded and wolfed down before any other boys could steal them.

Geralt can remember treasured moments when Eskel would sneak into his bed at night with sticky hands, sharing a hoarded bit of honeycomb under the blankets, whispering and giggling. Small escapes into the forest surrounding Kaer Morhen, sharing handfuls of ripe berries with Eskel instead of foraging eyebright and yarrow.

Even all these years later, the little indulgence of sweet cakes feels stolen and special, a secret shared between the two of them. They’ve been told their whole adult lives that Witchers don’t deserve goodness and solace, inhuman as they are. How delightful, then, to indulge in warmth and happiness shared between the two of them. 

The shared meal, paltry though it is, fills them heart and soul. It is eaten in companionship, banishing the lonely cold of the road from their beings. As they eat, they catch up, the cadence of their conversation easy and full of love. Who else could understand?

They had trained together, wept together, shivered together under the thin blankets meant to harden them to physical privation. When the trials had rendered them ill and helpless, they had snuck in to hold one another. Geralt remembers the soft sound of Eskel’s small voice in his ear, whispering him back from death’s door.

His voice is deep now, rich and warm. Eskel thinks he’s ugly, but Geralt knows he is beautiful. His dark hair is silky soft in Geralt’s fingers as he runs his hands through it, his honey-colored eyes are kind and full of love. When Geralt undresses him, his big, scarred body is a feast. He is heavier-set than Geralt, powerful muscles and big bones. The summer has been good to him, and he has a layer of fat that softens the curves of his fine form. Geralt lays him back on their bedrolls, taking his time to cherish every inch of him.

As children, they would check each other over for new injuries, providing small comfort where they could. Melitele knew their instructors wouldn’t, not unless the injury threatened their lives. They knew each other’s bodies like their own, had memorized every scar, every crease. As adolescents, their explorations had become more intimate, more passionate.

Now, Geralt worships at the altar of Eskel’s body, savoring the rich and varied scents of his loved one as he explores Eskel’s sensitive places. He nibbles the backs of his knees, grazes his teeth over the sensitive knobs of his ankles. Purring, he tastes the silky inner skin of his thighs and playfully worries at the inviting roll of fat over his hip. Each playful bite, each lick, each nibble makes the subtle fruity smell of Eskel’s arousal more potent.

Geralt licks delicately along Eskel’s neck, breathes hotly against his ear, dipping his hips to brush their cocks together. Eskel pulls him down with an appreciative growl, locking his hands around Geralt’s hips and rocking up against him. Geralt growls back, turning to plunder Eskel’s mouth with a hungry kiss. They slide gently against one another, savoring the delicious heat of finally being together again.

They curl and twist together, rolling back and forth across their bedrolls, across their spread cloaks, rumpling the fabric. Their hands are slow at first as they savor each other, but soon they are gripping each other, hips snapping together, soft huffs and growls escaping them. Eskel, fingers slick from the little bowl set out by their bedrolls, rolls. He pins Geralt gently with one leg over his shoulder and presses into him, gentle but eager.

Geralt takes his fingers easily, one at first, then two. Eskel’s thick fingers crook and he arches, letting out a soft snarl. Little stars burst behind his eyes and he grinds down into those fingers, barely even noticing when Eskel eases a third in. The world narrows down to the blinding urgency of wanting Eskel inside of him, wanting to feel filled to the bursting with his beloved brother.

Geralt flips Eskel gently over and pushes him back to the bedroll again, slicking Eskel’s cock generously. Eskel stretches and lays out beneath him with a lazy smile, savoring the sight of his Wolf so hungry to ride him. Geralt kneels over him, easing down over his generous girth, his yellow eyes rolling back in his head.

A groan escapes them both as Geralt bottoms out, eyes rolling back in his head as he feels the fullness of Eskel’s thick cock deep inside of him. Eskel grabs his hips and holds him still there. This is one of his favorite moments, the feeling of being pressed so fully into his lover’s body after such long separation. It’s the feeling of connection before they begin to fuck in earnest, that key-sliding-into-a-lock certainty of home. When they finally begin to move together, easing into an age-old rhythm, the rightness of it sinks into their bones.

Geralt rides atop of Eskel, full to the point of aching as he impales himself with each little rock of his hips. Eskel moves gently beneath him, lazily easing Geralt up and down along his cock until they are both trembling with the slow pace. He feels Geralt begin to strain against his hands, aching to ride him harder. Eskel grins, keeping the pace slow for as long as he can stand, but eventually, even he can’t wait anymore. He eases his grip on Geralt’s hips and pulls his big Wolf towards him, grinding hard into his slick heat.

Geralt gasps and begins to fuck himself in earnest, locking eyes with Eskel as he does so. He pries Eskel’s hands off of his hips and lifts them over his head, twining their fingers together. Eskel grins fondly, eyes hazy with lust and pleasure. Geralt grins breathlessly back, loving the sight of Eskel blissful beneath him.

They come unglued in each other’s arms, fucking until Eskel’s stomach is slick with Geralt’s pre-come, until their hair is plastered to their skin with sweat, until they can’t suppress their panting groans any longer. Finally, Eskel sets his heels against the ground and shifts the angle of his hips. He knows he’s got it right because Geralt’s voice breaks mid-growl, cracking and becoming breathless.

Eskel curses happily as he sets a pace that makes Geralt’s eyes roll back in his head, makes the muscles in his thighs jump and tremble. He fucks Geralt until he’s crying incoherently into the forest, fucks him until he’s dripping sweat and tears, fucks him until he comes riotously on Eskel’s cock, roaring helplessly into the deepening night.

The absolutely wrecked look on Geralt’s face is what finally does Eskel in. He squeezes Geralt’s hands in his own, arching and twisting beneath him as his own potent pleasure builds. When he explodes, Eskel throws his head back and jams his hips hard against Geralt’s, burying himself deep as he comes.

Geralt cries out, feeling hot rushes as Eskel’s thick come fills him. Eskel strains beneath him, hips jerking and trembling as the pleasure peaks. When it slowly recedes, they sink trembling to the tangled fabric beneath them. Eskel awkwardly paws at one of the cloaks, freeing it and draping it over Geralt’s sweaty back. Geralt curls around Eskel, pleased by the thoughtful gesture, allowing his head to come to rest on his brother’s shoulder.

They twine together beneath the cloak, sweat cooling, pounding hearts beginning to slow. Around them, the forest hums and whispers with quiet life, trees shivering in breezes and tiny animals skittering amongst the undergrowth. They’ve laid like this a hundred times, more, pressed heartbeat to heartbeat as a campfire crackles nearby.

It might not be possible to travel together for long. The Path is a harsh life, and even in fat summers like this one the pay for two Witchers together is sparse. Townspeople wouldn’t always welcome two of them, and it wouldn’t be long before they’d have to part ways to keep their purses fat enough to make it through til winter. But for now, that doesn’t matter. Their bellies are full, the summer night is warm, and they have one another. Everything else could wait.

[revengeworld]

Meat IV

Werewolf! Flip x Reader - Medieval AU

Word Count: +2.700

Warnings: Mentionings of Blood, Fighting between wolves, dead animal

AN: This will be a six Part series. It has nothing to do with the movie and is a complete medieval AU with it’s own lore about werewolfs. I thought it might be an interesting turn on it :>

MY MASTERLIST ♥

-

Dragging a huge elk behind him, Flip hoped that it would be enough to feed eleven always hungry pups for a few days. Otherwise, he could ask Y/N to stretch the rations with her wonderful cooking skills.

At least it had stopped raining, he thought to himself while coming closer to the hole in the ground.

Kneeling down next to it he was readying himself to jump down until he noticed the small group that was resting on one of their blankets.

Y/N still had the youngest on her arm, while she had the kettle with a stew in her other hand and two of the older pups helped her safely to the blanket.

After serving everyone a bowl of stew, the pups started to ask her the questions that were lingering on their tongues until one of the older boys noticed Flip sitting on the entrance to the cave.

“Aunty Y/N? Do you like Uncle Flip??” he called loudly over the other questions.

“By the Moon, I’m soooo gonna kill these pests...” Flip already started to growl.

“Mhmm, yeah I would say I do.” Y/N spoke honestly while carefully cutting some of the bread they still had leftover and shared it with the pups.

 Not wanting to believe his own ears, the beast quickly shook his head and leaned forwards to listen more closely.

“Of course she likes Uncle Flip!” one of the girls chimed in.“They are married after all.”

Stopping mid-motion, Y/N turned her head in the direction of the girl.

“Married?”

“Yeah! His sigil is carved on you, which means you are his mate and that you’re married, right?” another pup explained.

“Is it nice to be married?” one of the other girls asked and leaned against Y/Ns side.

“I’m definitely gonna kill all of them….” Flip growled in a panic, ready to jump down to interrupt their conversation until he heard Y/Ns answer.

“So far it has been quite nice. Flip is very gentle.” she answered after a while of thinking about the wolf girls question and gently brushed over her head. 

Almost falling down the cave opening, Flip was quick to get his balance back and grabbed the killed prey and tried to make his way down to them as fast as possible.

“Speak of the devil… Welcome home, my dear husband.” Y/N greeted the rumbling footsteps that had been coming closer to them.

She could hear how his big tail was wagging through the air while he let out the quietest of whimpers since he wanted to come closer to her without trampling the pups that started to giggle around them.

Standing up from her spot, Y/N soon felt Flip's big paws on her hip while he wanted to lean down to lick her face like he normally would, but she quickly pulled it back.

“You reek of blood and decay. You’re not going to get close to me until you wash your mouth.” she mumbled while pinching her nose so she didn’t have to smell it.

“Okay!” he announced excitedly and quickly ran to the small natural creek that was running close to their hut to dunk his head under the water.

“Come children, if you are finished with your meal let's go back inside.” 

“Yes Aunty Y/N!” 

Flip could hear them call while he shook off the excess water. Looking over his shoulder he watched while the older siblings were gathering the bowls while the younger ones tried to fold together the blanket while Y/N picked up the youngest and smallest one.

Stretching out her arm to his vague direction he soon laid his snout into her palm and she pressed a gentle kiss on his nose which made him purr with a deep growl before he licked over her lips with eagerness.

But then she started to scratch his chin and it was all over for Flip, then he was just melting in her hand until she suddenly stopped and pulled her hand away so that he almost fell to the ground.

“How did you even manage to control those monsters so well?” he asked while following them inside.

“I was just nice to them so they are nice and listen to me. Not like you who growls at them every chance he gets.” she chuckled and god she was so lovely at this moment that Flips heart wanted to jump out of his chest, she was just so lovely.

“Will you gut your catch or should I?” she asked when they reached the huts entrance.

“I’ll do it, you can do better with these little monsters.” he agreed and pressed his cold snout against her cheek for a moment.

While Flip was taking care of the elk meat, he saw out of the corner of his eyes two of the older siblings running with a bucket towards the creek to gather some water before tiptoeing back to the hut where he could hear Y/N giving each of them a small job.

The only thing he could do was shake his head at that. They really just listened to her without another question.

When he finally had finished gathering the meat and could return inside, Y/N had already prepared one of the pan’s he had gotten her a while back, so that she could immediately cook a greater meal for these rascals.

These would be some long days, he thought to himself while sitting down on one of the chairs and a few pups already climbed all over him which made him only sigh deeply.

-

After eating Y/N's large meal, the pups gathered in a pile on the bed and curled up for a midday nap.

Noticing that it got very quiet in the hut, Y/N wasn’t sure what had just happened but Flip was gently taking her outstretched hands to pull her towards him.

“They’re asleep.” he whispered into her ear, while she let her hands wander to his shoulders so she could sit down comfortably on his lap, while Flip couldn’t possibly stop to nibble on her earlobe until she pulled her head away.

“Why didn’t you tell me what your sigil really meant?” she suddenly asked and Flip took a deep breath.

“If I had told you anything what it really meant then you wouldn’t have let me near you.”

“That’s true… I wouldn’t have.”

“When another wolf carves their sigil into his mate it is a sign of belonging. Which is why nobody will be able to harm you otherwise they will risk a gruesome punishment. Hurting one of your own pack ends with death.” Flip explained while resting his snout on her shoulder.

“But it also means that when we die at some point it will be easier for us in the afterlife to find each other again...” his words got quieter and quieter until they were just a scared whisper. He was afraid to lose her. Every time she would ask questions about his world and their tradition he was reminded under which circumstances she finally came into his life.

“Sounds romantic.” she mumbled quietly while wrapping her arms around his torso. Flips eyes widened and he wanted to look down at her expression until they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

All the pups suddenly woke up and quickly hid under the bed frame and immediately when Flip caught the scent of the other wolf that was standing in front of their hut, but before he could hinder Y/N from jumping from his lap and walking towards the door it was already too late to stop her.

When Y/N pulled the door open, she noticed that she wasn’t greeted by the normal glimmering soft bit of light, which would normally greet her when she would open the door for Ron, but a dark shadow was looming over her figure.

“What the hell do you want here?! Didn’t I tell you I don’t want you anywhere near me again!” Flips sudden deep growl let Y/N jump a little before she could feel his arm wrap around her waist and pull her back against his chest, so tightly that it almost hurt her. But noticing his reaped breath and how he didn’t stop to growl she was too afraid to say something.

“So this is your little toy now ...” Y/N could hear a deep female voice scoff back at him.

“She is none of your business! So leave!” Flips voice sounded so threatening that it send a shiver down her spine.

“But I have business with you. The elders send me.” the female wolf barked back.

Flips grip around Y/N slightly loosened before she could feel him gently lick over her cheek.

“Stay with the pups. I will be right back. Don’t be afraid.” he added when he saw her fearful expression. Carefully pushing her into the direction of the bed, Flip left the hut before closing the door behind him.

“So you already had pups with her?” the other wolf growled, an accusation undertone in her voice.

“Don’t be ridiculous! She hasn’t even been here for a month yet.” Flip scoffed at that accusation.

“But you want pups with her, right?! You even marked her as your own. How pathetic she can’t even give you what you want.” the other wolf didn’t stop her bickering.

“I don’t care if she can give me pups or not! It’s none of your business, to begin with. We are through, Abby.” Flip made extremely clear.

“Well, it matters if you will fall into your rut. How would you protect that fragile being from your insatiable hunger? You would rip her small body apart just to get a chance to mount her.”

Flips growl grew louder before he finally pounced onto the other wolf, biting into her neck and pushing her to the ground so that she yelped loudly and tried to fight back.

Y/N, who could hear everything they were fighting about pressed the shivering children against her chest while they heard the growling, barking, whimpering and yelping, from outside. The claws dragging over the ground, Flips threatening barks and the other wolves screams in pain.

Wrapping her arms tighter around the sobbing pups, she tried not to show her fear but she couldn’t help the tears that were forming in the corner of her eyes.

“I could kill you right here right now! And the Elders wouldn’t even punish me when I would tell that you endangered the pups and Y/N.” Flip threatened.

“They wouldn’t care about your filthy human!” she hissed back but screamed again when Flip dug his teeth deeper into her flesh.

“I would choose my next words very carefully if I were you...” he let out another warning growl.

“The full moon is coming closer… The elders want you both to attend the ritual...” the other wolf whimpered and Flip let go of her with furrowed brows.

“Just leave...” he mumbled while stepping away from the cowering wolf. He would ask the elders himself if this message was true. What would be benefitting to them if Y/N would join their rituals only to hear her own kind being slaughtered.

Watching the smaller wolf run away, yelping and whimpering he sighs deeply before stumbling over to the small creek to wash the blood off his fur.

Slowly opening the door to the hut, he could see them all cowering in a corner, while Y/N had her arms protectively around them.

“It’s alright now. She is gone again.” kneeling down next to them he gently laid his paw onto Y/Ns back and she quickly turned around to wrap her arms around his neck while relieving sobs escaped her lips.

“Are you hurt?” she mumbled, her hands trembling on his shoulders.

“Just a few scratches… nothing to worry about, my sweet darling Meat.” gently licking over her cheek, she let out a soft chuckle before the rest of the pups also climbed into Flips and her arms.

“Are you all alright?” he asked gently, while all their quick heartbeats echoed in his ears.

“Just a bit shaken is all...” she whispered and the older pups agreed with small whispers.

“That’s good… Ah!” one of the little ones had accidentally crawled over the wound on his lower arm and he quickly licked away the blood.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry Uncle Flip!” the little one apologized frantically but Flip only laid his big paw unto its head.

“Everything is fine. I’m okay.” Looking at all of their still frightened faces, Flip suddenly smiled then an idea had popped into his head.

“How about we go to the place I wanted to show you. First I didn’t want the gremlins to come with us but… we all could relax a little.” Flip mumbled to Y/N who had her head still buried against his shoulder.

“Where will you take us?” she asked and slowly lifted her head.

“A place where you will be able to fully relax… just trust me.” he whispered in her ear and gently started to nibble on it.

“I would like that … Right kids?”

“Yeah!”

In mere minutes the unusual group was on its way. Flip led them while he gently held onto Y/Ns hand who had insisted to walk herself. In his other arm rested the youngest of the pups, quietly holding on to him.

“It’s getting warmer...” Y/N noted while they were going deeper into the mountain.

“That means we’re close.” Flip smiled and the pups started running along while their laughs echoed against the cave walls.

“Woahh!” they could already hear them call from afar and soon when they walked around a corner, Y/N could feel a gush of warm wind brush against her cheek.

“Wh...what is it?” she asked excitedly and Flip needed to hold her back a bit.

“Hot Springs. Ron told me about them and since you complained about my bathing methods… well I thought you might like to take a real bath.” he chuckled and gently nudged her head with his snout.

“Well, why are we still standing here then?” Y/N was beaming at him and Flip couldn’t help but let out a low howl before smoothing her with licks and kisses first.

While the pups already claimed one of the pools for themselves, Flip carefully helped Y/N open her dress, so that she soon was just in her undergarment shift.

Without being able to control it Flips tail immediately started to wag at that beautiful sight. His body ached for her and after the next full moon, he would probably need to leave her for a while, then even though he had loathed the words he had heard from the other wolf it was true. In his rut, just thinking like a damn animal, he could endanger her. Something he never wanted to happen.

“Here… I’ll help you.” gently placing his paws on her hip, Y/N automatically laid her small hands on his broad shoulders before he lifted her up and slowly stepped into the big pool from the hot spring and gently let her down into the warm water. First pulling up her legs when she felt the unusual warm water, soon Y/N let her body completely surrounded by it when Flip sat down with her.

The water burned on his open wounds but seeing Y/Ns completely relaxed expression let him forget about all that.

He was in love with her, there was no other way to describe his feelings that first were just curiosity, a fleak obsession and fascination.

But now…. He couldn’t imagine his life without her any more.

Soaking in the water he leaned his back against the edge of the rocky pool and watched while she slowly combed through her wet hair with her fingers with a silent smile on her lips.

It came without a warning and no way to stop the words that he just couldn’t hold in any longer.

“I love you.”

Stopping mid-motion, Y/N slowly turned her head to him and almost looked directly back into his eyes. Shocked and in disbelief.

“Fl..Flip...” Y/N stammered shyly.

“It’s alright… you don’t have to say anything. I just … I just wanted you to know.” gently laying his paw into her neck, like he always did, he was at least relieved to see that she didn’t flinch away. It even seemed that she was leaning into his touch, just a bit. Lifting her hand she rested it on his wrist before leaning even more into his paw.

[youre-in-the-psycho-circus]

One Year of Love | 8

Pairing: Roger Taylor/Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader

Warnings: this has got to be the fluffiest thing yet from this story

Word Count: 2,117

Summer: Roger is smitten with a girl he can’t have in more ways than one

Masterlist

(Y/N) quickly dressed in a floral top paired with a maroon mini skirt and tan boots and applied a bit of light makeup. She tossed her curls ever so slightly in the mirror before, grabbing her matching handbag and beige overcoat before rejoining the drummer in the kitchen. Roger was just finishing up wiping down the countertops when he heard her footsteps behind him. He turned around to face her as she placed her coat down on the armchair next to his, before placing a necklace around her neck. He thought his eyes were going to fall out of his skull at the way they bugged out. If she was beautiful before with flour on her face, then she was absolutely breathtaking now. “You look beautiful…” He found himself softly speaking before he even knew he was saying it.

(Y/N) paused and looked over at the blue eyed drummer with a smile as she walked over to the Cottage Pie that had been cooling on the counter. “Why thank you.” She smiled, placing the glass dish in the fridge, ready to be cooked later. “You’re looking pretty handsome yourself if you don’t mind me saying.” Roger smirked softly, trying to remember the last time he had been given a genuine compliment like that from any other woman than his mum or nan. “Shall we get going then?” She asked with a smile.

A while later, the pair strolled around The Serpentine in Hyde Park, passing other happy couples and families with children milling about. “So you’re a dental student, right?” She asked as they walked along the bank of the pond. “Gotta admit, you don’t strike me as the dentist type.”

“Believe me, I’m not, only reason I was in it to begin with was because of the money you can make out of it.” He explained. “But I really hate it. That’s why despite passing my final exams for the term I’m dropping out.” Roger admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

“No way! So what do you think you’ll do now?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Well I had passed my biology A-levels, rather enjoyed the subject, so just reckon I’ll do something with that then.” The former dental student shrugged. “But enough about that. It’s pretty boring.”

He chuckled softly looking up the road to see a little old woman selling bags of bread crumbs to feed the ducks that were floating near the bank of the pond, happily eating whatever the children threw their way. “You sir, would you like to feed the birds? Only 5p for a bag.”

The drummer looked to the girl on his arm, she nodded happily. “Sure why not.” He said fishing 5p from his trouser pocket. (Y/N) thanked the old woman, accepting the bag as Roger dropped the coin into her hand. before (y/n) pulled him over to a section of the bank of the pond where a pair of Mute Swans floated. “Swans? Aren’t they mean?” He questioned apprehensively as she kneeled down on the edge of the pond.

“Only if your mean to them.” She smiled up at the drummer as she opened the bag.

“Rather optimistic if you ask me.” Roger grimaced watching as she took a few crumbs from the bag. She held them in her hand which she held out to the white feathery creatures floating on the water. “Be careful (Y/N)! You don’t know what those things are capable of!” He warned her watching with fear in his eyes as she didn’t throw the crumbs into the water like the children further up the bank. “I don’t want to see you get bit!”

“Oh relax Blondie, would you?” She rolled her eyes, keeping still as the Swans swam up. Roger cringed in fear for what would happen as, rather hesitantly, the swans gently started to nibble on the bread in her hands. She smiled softly. “See Rog? They’re elegant, gentle creatures when you’re not insulting them by not offering them the same respect.”

The drummer walked closer, crouching down next to his date with an impressed smile. She looked like the princess out of the Sleeping Beauty disney cartoon his mother had taken him and his younger sister to see at the cinema when he was boy. She was so delicate and gentle with the swans, as if they would break if she so much as breathed wrong. The smile of her face was bright enough to rival the light from the sun. “Can I try…?” The drummer asked hesitantly as she pulled her hand back once it was empty.

The girl smiled at him, she hadn’t been expecting him to want to try with how apprehensive he had been earlier. “Cup your hands together.” She instructed. He did as told as she reached into the bag. She gently placed a handful of bread crumbs in the drummer’s hands before slowly and carefully guiding his hands to the ground on the edge of the bank so as not to scare away the already present swans. “Stay still now.” She smiled keeping a hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing it with her thumb. One of the swans slowly swam over to the edge of the back, eyeing the drummer suspiciously before, not without hesitation, starting to eat from his hands. The drummer’s face lit up like a streetlight as he looked over at (Y/N) before looking back at the swan excitedly. “There you are, see?”

“I’m doing it!” He cheered happily. “What the hell?” He nearly jumped feeling something brush up against his leg as a Manderin Duck, in all its colourful plumage glory, walked up next to him on the edge of the bank starting to eat from his palms like the swan. She smiled, reaching into the bag, pulling out a few of the smaller crumbs before placing a few on his shoulder. After she pulled her hand away a little Snow Bunting floated down from the sky, landing elegantly on his shoulder before pecking softly at the crumbs through the fibers of his coat. The drummer glanced at the bird out of the corner of his eye not wanting to scare it. “Of all the things I thought I was going to do today, this was not one of them.” He smiled happily, it radiated off him like heat from the oven and warmed her heart. He had never known that he would’ve enjoyed the non sex part of the date so much. (Y/N) had really opened his eyes to what it meant to feel at peace and happy. Truth be told he had never felt this at ease, this was actually quite fun...until the damn seagulls started to attack. Those greedy rats with wings flew down from the heavens, cawing and flapping around his head like maniacs. The poor drummer jumped, falling backwards onto the gravel, scaring away the Manderin Duck and Snow Bunting. Still persistent as ever, the seagulls flapped about, swooping in at the drummer. “Get the fuck off of me!” The drummer cried out flailing his arms in the air wildly in attempts to scare them off. (Y/N) quickly shook the bag at the seagulls gaining their attention before throwing the remaining contents off into the grass. Roger breathed heavily, trying to regain his composure as he looked over at (Y/N) who was wracked with laugher. “It’s not funny!”

“It kind of is.” She laughed helping him to stand.

“Those rats with wings! Probably would’ve pecked my eyes out in another minute!” He shook his fist angrily as they fought each other for whatever scaps they could get their beaks on.

“You tell them Blondie.” She giggled softly, lacing her arm with his again pulling him back along the path in the direction they had been heading.

Upon arriving back at her flat, (Y/N) was quick to get the Cottage Pie started in the oven while Roger went into the living room to throw on a record for the pair to listen to. “What would you like to drink?” She called from the kitchen, her head in the fridge. “I’ve got some beer, a bottle of wine.”

“You pick. I trust your opinion.” Roger called from the living room. Deciding that wine was more classy, she grabbed the bottle of pinot noir and two wine glasses before walking out into the living room. She found the drummer with a record in his hands, with his back to her, staring at the picture on the table next to her record player. “Is this you and your parents?” He asked, keeping his eyes trained on the picture. She couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven years old in the picture.

“Yeah…” She spoke quietly with a smile, placing the bottle and glasses down on the table.

“You look so happy here.” Roger smiled as he moved to put the record on the player.

“We were…” She smiled at the happy memory of that particular day as Roger dropped the needle onto the Frank Sinatra record he had chosen.

He quickly returned to her side before, not without a slight struggle, popping the cork out of the wine bottle. He poured the wine into the two glasses, offering the girl one with a soft, kind smile, pure happiness clouding over his ocean blue orbs. “To our wonderful first date.”

“To us…” She smiled, gently clinking her glass against his.

Once the Cottage Pie was pulled from the oven, the pair situated themselves on either side of the cardtable she used as a dining table. She stared at the drummer expectantly as Rogre took his first bite of the concoction. His eyes went wide with delight as he hurriedly took another bite. “Holy fuck, this has got to be the best cottage pie I’ve ever had in my entire life!” Roger praised with a groan of satisfaction.

“I told you.” She smiled digging into her own food.

The pair devoured the casserole before once again retreating to the couch, this time watching a program on the television. Slowly and cautiously, the drummer put his arm around the girl. Like she had the previous weekend, the girl stiffened ever so slightly. Roger held his breath, half expecting her to freak out again. She took a breath before slowly, she relaxed into his embrace with a sigh of happiness. He smiled softly, resting his head gently on hers as they continued to watch the programme. “(Y/N)?” He quietly asked after her after awhile. She hummed in response. “Do you think...well only if you want that is...that I could kiss you?” He studdered. He had never had to ask for permission before, all the other girls had always been so willing, but given her track record, he wanted to be sure that she was absolutely comfortable with everything he did. All he cared about was how she was feeling and if she was happy. He had never had these feelings for anyone before.

She was silent for a few moments before she sat up. “I don’t see why not.” She smiled softly.

The drummer smirked, his instincts kicking in as he slowly and cautiously reached a hand up to her cheek, gently caressing the skin. He was so incredibly gentle with her, as if she were a porcelain doll and would shatter with the slightest bit off too much pressure. She gently nuzzled her head into his touch before he leaned in, pulling her lips to meet his. There was a spark of electricity as their lips connected, one that the drummer had never felt before in his life. It was absolutely incredible as it sped through his body igniting every fiber of his being. This had to have been the softest, most tender kiss he had ever shared with anyone, and god did it feel amazing, just like he knew it would with her. (Y/N), though obviously nervous at first, slowly relaxed into the kiss, gently kissing him back. She had heard he was a good kisser, but no rumor did him justice. He was so precise with his movements, firm but gentle at the same time, intense but immensely sweet. She was putty in his hands. Roger pulled back after a few long moments, gently resting his forehead on hers, his hooded ocean blue orbs bore into her (e/c) gaze, his pupils dilated in happiness. “That was worth the wait.” He smiled softly.

“Told you it would be, Blondie.” She smirked. He leaned in, kissing her again. Of course the age old question of if there would be a second date weighed heavily on his mind. He didn’t know what he would do without one. 

There was.

Part 9

[shhhhhskars]

Intimate Things happen in Pools.

Ask that inspired it 1.  / Ask that inspired it 2.  Intimate. BBQ/Pool Day. Age Gap tings. Family Lovin’ (Bill & Valter). Angst. Tension. Awkward early stages with Alexander. Words: 1,643. Sometimes you just need some...sof, intimate Alex tings..as always, hope you enjoy. 

“Valter, if you keep staring at me, I will absolutely throw your ass in here. That’s a promise.”

Alexander launched the soft blow-up ball into the air, directly towards his younger brother who was stretched out on one of the sleek, wooden pool chairs. Valter was living his best life, with sun screen slathered down his nose and cheekbones. He sported some worn, beige camouflage swim trunks and a crisp white tee. The ball hit his leg and bounced off, and he had to raise his tortoise Ray-Bans off his face, to the top of his head, to really comprehend what the fuck was good with this old idiot. He cursed something awful in Swedish, giving Alexander a good glare.

“Fucker. I was not staring at you two...whatever the hell two are. I was just about to fall asleep.”

“Valteeeer, that mouth....that mouth..” Alexander warned with a jokey tone.

You stifled a laugh at their exchange, they were holding off giggles of their own. You two were not low, and you were both trying entirely too hard to be.

“That mouth, that mouth.” Valter imitated in low, annoying whine. “Suck my di..”

“AYE. Watch your mouth, there are children around,” Bill interrupted, leaving Valter with his foot in his mouth, but Bill beckoned his head towards you with a little smirk. You were much younger than the man you came with, closer in age to his youngest brother. Bill was trying to be funny and you scoffed, rolling you eyes at him. “Get off me.” you snapped back at him with a small smile. It was clearly meant it to be a joke, and Bill received it, pleased with your little attitude, chuckling under his breath at the exchange. Alexander shot you two a glance from the side of his eye, shifting in the water, clearing his throat a little awkwardly.

Shady Boots, Bill, shady boots.

It was no surprise that Valter was stealing glances at you and Alexander, though. It was still so new, and the whole thing had you two moving...goofy. You were both in the large, heated pool, but maintained a odd distance, just enough to be in range to comfortably speak to each other, but yet far enough to look like separate floating entities.

You were doing your thing, enjoying the cool water on your skin, and the feeling of the sun on your face. Usually chlorine nauseated you, but today, mixed with the smell of IPA and the char from the grill, it covered you with pure joy. But still...this was freakishly new for you. Yes, you’d met his friends, and it was fine, casual, calm. Everyone was cool, there were a few raised eyebrows, but all in all, it went well. But when he mentioned the word family- that was a whole new ball game entirely.

The Virgo Man. The eldest, who wore that title with pride. The one who wants harmony between his siblings, even when they’re all distracted with their six different projects. Always sending something in the group chat to try and get everyone together. The strong friend. That was Alexander, that was his assumed role. So....yes, it was a lot.

Somehow, he had convinced you to tag along to a backyard barbecue at his brother’s place. You had hesitated, when you saw the text message, but it was hard to resist, what were you doing anyway? And now here you were, in a tiny black bikini in Bill’s pool, on a deliciously warm Summer evening. It was a slew of them, and they were all different in their own way, that was Alexander’s disclaimer.

But even with the distance...you two were giddy for each other. The tension and chemistry that floated between you two made the air feel thick, even though you were outside. It didn’t take much to pick up on it, the buzz between you two. Even with the distance... Alexander gazed over at you. He ran his tongue over his lips, you looked so good soaking wet, and so did he.

And the water. The water played a whole different part in the sensation between you two. You were both tanning from being in there for some time, and his shoulders were turning a golden shade that looked good enough to eat. Smooth and supple skin with the beads of water that clung to it. A rosy blush was permanently forming over his nose and cheeks. The sunlight reflecting off of the water made his eyes look even more light blue than usual, and you couldn’t help but lick your lips, tasting the water on your face.

He wasn’t shocked to see your body, if anything, it excites him. You looked good, almost naked, bikini hugging over your hips and curves. You felt exposed. But there was a part of you that wanted to feel sexy like this in front of him. Your smooth rich skin was desperate to be out for the Summer.

Now and again, a slew of murmurs and whispers would come shuttling out from your corner of the pool. You would swim closer to him, and he’d grab at your ankle under the water, pulling you dangerously low and closer to him.

“Think they’re fucking?” Valter whispered to Bill, nonchalantly swiping through his Twitter feed.

“Of course they’re fucking.” Bill responded without hesitation, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip.

It’s invigorating and tempting, all at once, being this close to Alexander in the water, and you wrap an arm around him, coming entirely too close to his face, examining the beauty that is him. You’re both drunk off of the feeling, smiling like goofballs, you biting at your lip to stop yourself from grinning too hard. But your cheeks hurt, from all the smiling. His eyelashes are slick with water, coated, little drops sitting on them like morning dew on a leaf. It amazes you once again how men always seem to have the best fucking eyelashes, and you move your arm from around him.

“Your lashes. They are so long. Put me on to your secret,” you said with a little giggle, wadding to keep yourself up. He glanced back over at Valter and Bill. Bill’s head buried in a book, Valter, snoozing lightly, and he reached for your hips under the water, grabbing you into him again. “Yeah? You wanna know my secret?” he taunts in a low voice, pulling you awfully close to his body in the water. You’re in the deeper side of the pool, far away from his siblings, and you feel terrified and flushed all at once, from not being able to put your feet on the ground. It’s an intoxicating feeling, and the breeze is blowing harder now, a little chill coming into the air. Hair slick on your back, the wind sends a shiver down your spine, and you shudder outwardly in the water, wrapping your legs around his waist, putting your arms around his neck. He holds you steadily in the water. 

“I’ll tell you tonight. Alright?” he whispers with a swallow, slowly swiping his tongue over his light pink lower lip. You sigh into his touch, of the feeling of his large hands holding your waist and cradling your lower back in the water, Your eyes on his lips and that tongue, following it as it entered and exited his perfect mouth. You squeezed your legs tighter on him, taking another small breath and giving him a shaky little nod. “Okay.” you replied simply. You didn’t know what that meant explicitly...but yet, you did. Something was coming tonight, you had the urge to release the tension you felt gathered in the pit of your stomach, just below your belly button. You never broke eye contact, and you so badly wanted to put your tongue on his, you could feel yourself getting wet even in the water. But Bill. And Valter.

It hit you all at once- you felt tired, exhausted and worst of all- frustrated. “Hey...can you..?” you nudged your head towards the shallow side of the pool, beckoning for him to carry you out. He scanned your face it like he always did, and as if he could sense how you felt, he nodded. You were ready to be taken out, and he knew it. “I got you..” he said firmly, swimming you both easily over to the more shallow side, your body steady on his  and close to him under the water. 

You wanted a warm shower...or maybe a cold one. He had you so easily, weightlessly, even though you were acting as a stagnant weight on him. You let him take you, and before you knew it, you were back on the shallow side, and that awkward, painful distance was returned again. Another cold, chilly breeze blew, and some of the solar lights were staring to flicker on, the night beginning to fall. You glanced at Alexander, only to see a look of pure primal need on his face, eyes gazed over, nibbling on the side of his lip. He was hot and bothered, silently trying to collect himself after that little exchange in the corner. You, felt the same, flushed, and you tried to mask it, averting your eyes away from his. The passion between you burned at an all time high.

“Any longer, you two will turn into floaties, or some shit.” Valter cracked, shamelessly breaking the silence with a snicker. It was silent for such a while, it was strange hearing someone break it. Bill looked up from his novel with a small, knowing grin, his eyes shifting between you and Alexander, making you uncomfortable. You groaned at Valter’s comment, and also, Bill’s eyes, silently using them as a reason to trudge yourself out of the pool and head for the outdoor shower area, with Alexander at your heels.

[ecbenvolio]

Antique (Affectionate)

“This is all junk,” says the man I presume to be Lev of Lev’s Pawnshop and Antiques, a man who buys junk for a living.

My heart drops.

I’d rounded up my most prized possessions in hope of collecting enough money to make the month’s rent. This was my last resort.

....

GiGi was a bitter old soul, but I loved her I guess. A trained concert pianist, she lost a good deal of her hearing in the war. I was never sure which war. Or how she ended up in a torn-down rural town like this one, produced my mother and uncle before becoming a thrice-divorced widow.

When I was young, she took care of me while Mother worked the night shift. We watched game shows on a fuzzy screened television and she fed me microwave meals. I would complain that they were cold in the middle and she would throw her hands up in frustration.

“These are not the hands of a cook,” she would tell me and I would silently agree.

GiGi tried her best to teach me piano, but with her hearing the way it was it was a difficult task. And she was not Beethoven. After several frustrating attempts, she would push me off the bench and begin to play her old favorites from memory: Mozart, Debussy, Elton John.

At this point, it would be late at night and the neighbors in the apartment would bang on the walls in protest.

“GiGi,” I’d yell “Quiet!”

But I think she took that as a challenge because she would play louder and louder. I learned to fall asleep with my head in her lap and Clair de Lune ringing in my ears.

Then one day, GiGi fell and everything I knew started to crumble. Mother and Uncle decided they didn’t have time to take care of GiGi and put her in a senior home. Senior homes are expensive, I guess because they sold the piano to make it cover the cost.

That was the first time, I’d seen GiGi cry—after she tried to strangle my uncle.

....

“So here’s the deal,” Lev says, “I’ll give you 10 for the TV and 15 for the microwave. Everything else is worthless. But I can take it off your hands for a disposal fee of 25.”

I decided I did not like Lev of Lev’s Pawnshop.

“I’m not a fool,” I say “That leaves me with nothing”

“It’s the best I can offer you” he leans on the counter.

My hands tighten around my bag, and I feel the shape of my tur last resort beneath the fabric. I look at Lev, if that even is his real name, and wonder if he really robs people for a living or if I just look that vulnerable, that lost.

I sigh. “You’re sign says you also buy antiques. Well, I have an antique.”

I pull the item from my bag and Lev’s eyebrows rise.

A music box.

It’s an intricately designed piece of art, not a box in form but more of a stout cylinder. On the outer layer are carved stars and moons encased in their own frames. The top is designed with a golden model of the summer starscape. The inside is layered with the mold of an angel. In the bottom piece, another metal figure of an angel stands straight in the center, its head tilted toward the heavens.

I wind up the lever on the back of the music box and let go. There’s a slight pause, then the notes of Clair de Lune fill the shop.

The shopowner’s dull eyes light up and he snatches the music box from my hands. He pulls the pair of glasses that were sitting on the top of his head down to set on the end of his nose. Unlike the previous items, he handles the music box with care.

“Now this,” he says, “This is beautiful. Don’t tell me—you found it at an estate sale? Another pawnshop?”

“It’s none of your business where I got this from” I cross my arms and tilt my head, “You seem pretty interested.”

“What can I say? It’s a decent piece of junk,” says the man that sells junk for a living. “Pre-war, ya’know?”

I want to ask which war but that question would really steer things out of my favor. Don’t want to sound young and unknowledgeable.

“It belonged to a concert pianist.” I explain “She played in grand performance halls in the city. Until one day, during a concert, they were bombed.”

Lev scoffs, “Who plays a concert in the middle of a war?”

“Who attacks civilians in the middle of a peaceful gathering?”

“Ah. So it was that war.”

...

“It was absolute chaos,” GiGi tells me as I sit at the foot of her bed in the senior home. I’ve heard her account of the bombing of the Grand Hall dozens of times. I could recite it by heart. It doesn’t get less distressing. Yet it’s the only story she tells these days.

“I barely made it out alive. But I did. And you the song I was in the middle of playing was—”

The nurse aide knocks on the door, interrupting to bring GiGi’s lunch. Which means I’m about to get lunch. It’s a silent arrangement between GiGi and me. The home staff thinks that she only eats when I visit. But truthfully, I choke down the bland sandwich and mushy vegetables and leave her to drink her tea and eat cake in peace.

“I lived on less during the war,” GiGi would complain loudly.

(“If she doesn’t start eating better, we’ll have to set up a feeding tube,” They told the family. Mother shrugged “Do what you have to do.”)

When the nurse aide returns, GiGi is nibbling on her cake and receives exaggerated praises for how well she’s eating.

We share a look.

She’s frail. That’s a fact. Somedays, I wonder if I’m no better than my mother and uncle in how I treat her. But every time, before I leave, GiGi takes my arm, looks into my eyes, and says “You are my heart. Don’t forget that.”

And that’s how I know I’m doing something right.

...

“Great story,” Lev says, “Your execution could use some work, but I’ll tell you what: forget the microwave and the tv. I’ll give you 75 for the music box. Cash.”

Oh. Well. Seventy-five is exactly what I needed to make rent. It was just what I needed except—

“That’s a pre-war family heirloom. Two hundred.”

Lev laughs. We don’t do negotiations here, but I’ll humor you: 85.”

“One hundred seventy-five.”

“Ninety.”

“One sixty.”

“Eighty-five.”

“You’re going in the wrong direction!”

“Tell me who you stole this music box from and I’ll give you 150. Cash. Best offer.”

“I didn’t steal this,” I huff, “It’s mine.”

Lev isn’t convinced. “Take the offer and I’ll tell you where music boxes like this come from.”

“I don’t need you to tell me. It’s from my GiGi.”

“Your...GiGi…?”

I throw my hands up, “My grandmother!”

Lev’s face morphs into a sneer, “Now I know you’ve been lying. Take the offer or get out of my shop. We’re closing soon.”

He sets the music box in the middle of the counter with a resolute thud.

There’s a moment where I think about it. I consider taking the offer. But I shake my head. No. No.

I snatch up the music box, shove it in my bag and go, leaving the rest of the items that I’d brought to sell.

“Goodbye, Lev, if that’s even your real name.”

....

“Are you happy?” GiGi asks me.

She’s staring out the window of her room at the senior home, absently stirring her tea. At first, I wasn’t sure I’d heard her. It’s odd. Normally, GiGi is very loud. It was as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to my question.

I fidget from my spot at the foot of her bed. “I’m...ok,” I answer. Because why would I burden her with my problems? I’m not the one whose children forced them into a home and sold away my most prized possession.

“Ok?” she spits back. “I don’t know what that means. OK. I asked: are. you. Happy?”

I look away. “Are you happy, GiGi?”

She laughs. It’s a deep sound, full of sarcasm.

“Your GiGi is as happy as she’ll ever be these days.”

“Well, then so am I,” I answer finally.

“That’s no good!” She sets down her tea, then grabs her walker and moves to stand. I tell her to sit down. I’ll get whatever she wants but she swats me away. GiGi slowly makes her way to the dresser on the other side of the room and pulls open the top drawer. From the drawer, she retrieves a bundle of cloth. She takes it and hobbles back to her chair.

“Here.” She thrusts the bundle at me. For a moment, I stare in disbelief, thinking that she had just thrown her laundry at me. But there was some weight to the bundle. Something is inside.

I carefully unwrap it to find a finely detailed sort of container. The outside is enveloped in the raised designs of suns and moons and stars. I slowly turn it around in my hands and run the tips of my fingers over the beautiful lines and curves. Then, gently I open the container to find a just as colorful and detailed inside. There’s a figure of an angel at the center of it all rotating as music starts to play.

It takes no more than a second for me to recognize the song as Clair de Lune. It’s a much softer and sweeter melody that I remember from my childhood.

I look at GiGi expectantly, but her eyes are closed, hands stretched in front of her and fingers playing along with the notes of the song.

I’m happy as I’ll ever be, she had said.

The music box slowed to a stop, but she kept going. Humming the notes along and playing her own personal concert.

....

I found myself humming the notes of Clair de Lune on as I made my way home. The music in my mind did nothing to keep out the anxious thoughts that bombarded my mind. What was I going to do about rent?

Asking Mother was out of the question. Uncle barely had a dollar to his name and he wasn’t going to share it with me anytime soon. If only life was simpler. If only it was like it had been in the past when I was young. All I had to worry about was going to GiGi’s for the night and picking through cold microwave meals.

As soon as I got home, I went to bed. I grabbed the music box and settled under the covers on my futon. I wound up the music box as far as it would go and set it by my head. The familiar notes of moonlight pull me into a deep sleep.

GiGi was a bitter old soul, but she loved me, I guess.

A former concert pianist, a war refugee, a mother, a grandmother. GiGi was many things. She lived to instill in others a love of music and survived each time someone tried to take music away from her.

She always said she’d leave everything to me when she passed. When she did, I inherited a music box.

I inherited the music box.

...

In hindsight, I should have known. Or maybe I just wasn’t listening closely.

In the middle of the night, I get out of bed only to hear a loud thud followed by a few unmelodious music notes. In a panic, I turn the light. At the sight before me, I close my eyes and sigh.

The music box is laying broken at my feet. I gather the pieces in my hands. The hinge popped off leaving the lid detached and the angel figure is bent at 90 degrees.

“No, no, no” I mutter. My sleep-clumsy fingers attempt to force the contraption back together. Slow disjointed notes of Clair de Lune curl into the air.

It was hopeless.

Even the bottom was falling out of the thing. A sort of morbid curiosity makes me pull at the loose piece until the bottom of the music box is completely removed. As one would expect there are the guts on the music box. But shoved in next to the playing mechanism looked like folded paper?

I pick at it with my fingertips. Could it be a note? A letter?

No.

I drop the music box again. This time though, it lands on the futon along with the paper I pulled out.

It’s...money. Bills. Cash. I counted it up, hands shaking. There was enough to cover rent and more.

Your GiGi is as happy as she’ll ever be these days.

And maybe it’s time for me to be happy, too.