#You weren't supposed to be there.

[little-peril-stories]

Febuwhump Day 22 - You Weren't Meant to Be There

From The Queen of Lies:

He heaved a sigh and pulled his hand away, then glanced at Curt and put it back down again, this time resting it over hers. “Are you ill, then? What happened? Tell me.”

You ripped that boy’s skin to shreds, Baden. That’s what happened.

“I came to speak to you about something,” she said, and she was ashamed of how her voice wobbled so piteously. “I didn’t know there was—that I would see—”

His jaw tightened, and she guessed from the slight widening of his eyes that he hadn’t realized until then that she’d been present for the thief’s flogging—that she’d witnessed everything. “Ah.”

“She fainted at the sight, sir.” Curt stood at attention, looking pale. “I—I take responsibility for this incident. I knew it would be distressing, sir, and I was in the middle of bringing her inside to wait for you in a more appropriate place, but I was delayed and, well…”

“Quiet.” Baden waved his hand, ever the commanding constable, and Curt fell silent. “My wife knows this is no place for her.” He turned his gaze to Breanna. “The conversation couldn’t wait until I returned home?”

The burning paper in her pocket, the literary society, the deadline to join—none of them seemed quite so extraordinarily important, not anymore. “I needed your signature for something.”

“I didn’t ask what you wanted. I asked you if it could wait.” Baden’s back had gone ramrod straight.

“I suppose it can wait,” she whispered. She hadn’t intended for her voice to come out so quietly. The words fluttered, barely audible, like feathery, fragile wingbeats in the air.

[nataliescatorccio]

#she found her love match

[gremlin-ghoul]

new header. escaping the scene of the crime

[salamispots]

making a little comic with the little sea angel/sea butterfly friends 👀

+ some sketches when I went to the aquarium (again hhsh)

[sollucets]

ONLY FRIENDS || EPISODE SIX

[canisalbus]

as a 16th century clergyman what does machete think of the printing press

I think by the time he was born the printing press had been around for almost a century and a half, so I'd reckon the society as a whole was largely past it's initial novelty and controversy. Machete himself is bookish and nerdy, he's very invested in gathering knowledge about various topics and trying to piece together a good picture of how the world works. Getting access to reading material would be a lot harder if every book was still copied individually by hand. His standards are pretty high though, there's a lot of poorly translated, shoddily printed and flimsily bound books around and he's prone to scrunching his nose at them.

[linecrosser]

Febwhump 2024 - Day 13 - "You weren't supposed to get hurt"

Mobei jun is tying to right a wrong (forgetting humans are prone to hypothermia) by wrapping him in his own cloak.

[vogelspinne]

Sorry Wyll 😔

[baronessblixen]

I wish you would write a fic where mulder falls asleep on skinner’s shoulder

Another ficlet! Gonna tag @today-in-fic this time 😁

“Is your son all right?” Skinner lifts his eyes to the nurse; one he hasn’t seen before. She’s young, her smile genuine, and her eyes curiously big. He’s tired. Not as tired as the man sitting next to him, whose head keeps ending up on his shoulder.

The first few times it happened, Mulder startled awake, his expression haunted, and apologized. Now, his head is on Skinner’s shoulder, his breath as even as it can be. If he weren’t so tired, or if Mulder were awake, maybe he’d correct the nurse. After the day they’ve all had, he has no strength left.

“His wife is- she’s not well.” It’s a white lie. Mulder and Scully may not be married on paper, but they are in every other way that counts. Once upon a time, Skinner felt the sting of jealousy seeing what they have. Now, he’s glad they have each other.

“I’m so sorry,” the nurse says. “Do you want me to go check on her? What’s her name?”

“Dana Scully.” Skinner keeps his voice soft so that he won’t wake Mulder. He should have known better; her name penetrates his sleepy mind and he blinks open his eyes.

“Is she- Dana Scully? Is she out of surgery?”

“I will check on your wife. I’ll be right back.” Her shoes squeak as she walks off. Mulder shakes his head, trying to wake up.

“My wife?” he asks Skinner, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. Skinner is going to keep to himself that the nurse thought Mulder is his son. That’s for himself to deal with. He’s a mere 15 years older than Mulder. Right now, though, he sees it. He looks like a boy. One who’s scared to lose another person he loves, unable to stop it from happening. Again.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” He changes the subject, hoping Mulder won’t press.

“No, I- I need to know how Scully is before I… before anything else.” The man needs a meal and sleep, preferably in a bed and not a hospital chair. Even if he threatened Mulder, Skinner knows he won’t leave here.

Before he can say another word, the nurse returns. His heart skips a beat until her face transforms into a big smile.

“Good news,” she says. “Your wife is out of surgery.”

“Is she-”

“She’s stable. She’s going to be just fine.” Mulder folds in on himself hearing the words and Skinner puts a hand on his back. “Is he-”

“He’s fine,” Skinner says, meaning it. “It has been a long day.”

“She’s going to make it,” Mulder mumbles, sounding almost delirious.

“She is,” Skinner assures him. “And I’m sure she wants to see you when she wakes up. How about you go home, take a shower and sleep?” He has to try. He knows that Scully would would want him to at least do that. Mulder just laughs humorlessly.

“You know I won’t.”

“The sit back down,” he says, aware that it sounds like an order. Mulder glares at him. “You’ve been using my shoulder as a pillow. Come on.”

“You sound as crazy as I do, sir.”

“Come on.” Another moment passes, but Mulder sits down. A minute passes and Skinner pretends to read the magazine he got hours ago. Maybe he’ll take that quiz again, the one that promises to tell you why you can’t ever keep a man. A sigh from the right, and then a soft weight on his shoulder. Mulder sleeps and Skinner keeps watch.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

It Will Come Back

Astarion x F! Tav

(Girl Talk part 2)

18+ implied trauma, talks of death, drinking, possessiveness, feelings developing, vulnerability, blood drinking, sub/dom, gender play, grinding, strap on use, penetration (m!), prostate orgasm, tenderness

Their shared night has been tormenting him, after staking his claim he found himself needing to be near her. And after a night of drinking, seeing her with someone else, he had to have her again...

Part 1

-

He was mid wipe of his bloody mouth but was now frozen on the treeline, her voice shouting out into the night.

Though he knew the Underdark would have been much easier he was grateful that she had chosen the Mountain Pass. He already was able to find plentiful wildlife.

When Halsin had insisted that going underground was the better route he saw her body go rigid. Closing her eyes briefly. Taking a steadying breath out.

"I know the Underdark, its... lethal. We're taking the high ground." Her voice uncharacteristically stern. Tone clear, this was not a discussion.

Karlach had reached out to take her shoulder in a reassuring grip and pulled back at the last second, remembering her heat. A sadness in her eyes.

Now, in the darkness of camp she was bolted upright from her trance. "No!" Hand flying to her chest. Her shout breaking the air.

He stepped forward, uncertain.

But Karlach awoke, sitting up quickly. Coming to her side, kneeling next to her as close as possible without scorching.

"You're okay, love." She reassured. "Just a bad dream."

Tav looked up at her tearfully. Hand still pressed hard to her chest. Rubbing back and forth. "Oh Gods, they're starting again."

Shaking her head, looking deep in Karlach's eyes. As if the sight of her could erase whatever she woke from.

"I get those too, soldier. Some nightmares stick. Miserable things that they are." Reaching for her arm again, pulling away frustrated. "Gods I wish I could touch you."

Tav smiled, sitting up. Leaning towards her. "I want that too. We'll catch Dammon on the way, don't worry."

"You want to talk about your dream?" Karlach asked quietly.

"Not really, but it might help." She sighed.

He suddenly felt like he was intruding, staring down at them. Though he did want to console her he was hopeless at that kind of thing.

She froze for a second, turning her head.

"Ah, what did I tell you about trying to sneak up on me?" She smiled, catching him in her peripheral.

"Apologies, I was just coming back from hunting. I'll head back to my tent, but do carry on." He quipped. Chest tight.

"Actually, I dont mind you staying." She shrugged. "Believe it or not your company is very welcome."

He really considered it, but he had been avoiding her since that night and this was far too intimate.

"I appreciate that, but I'll have to decline. Do tell me if you need any hands on help though. Goodnight, sweet things."

His tent wasn't far and he was glad of it. Moving on light feet and closing the flap behind him. Sitting with his back against the entrance.

Their voices were faint but his keen ears were sharper. Their conversation picking back up after a moment.

"Gods I really thought they had gone away. But that fucking dream visitor..." The venom in her voice surprising him.

"It looked like her. My sister." Low now, he could barely pick it up. "Whatever that thing is it isnt afraid to play dirty."

"I didn't know you had a sister." Karlach's voice soft.

"A twin. We're identical." A tired sigh. "She's dead. Has been for, Gods, at least a decade. Even in my long life I dont know if it'll ever feel real."

"I'm so sorry, love." Karlach's voice low and mournful. Moving into a whisper.

He picked at the seam of his pants, suddenly feeling guilty. Given how self assured she was he hadn't even considered that she might have a troubled past. They all had their weight to bear, it seems.

Sitting still in the morning light he felt at peace. Or as close to peace as he could manage. The sun warming him through.

He soaked it in greedily, making up for 200 years of lost time. If he was a religious man he would pray to the morning god Lathandar, but the Gods weren't worth the praise.

"Morning, Star." She yawned, passing in front of his tent.

He squinted his eyes open, something he regretted immediately.

In the morning light her long red hair glowed, out of it's crown braid falling in cascades down her back. The grey ochre of her skin picking up hues of pink and a smattering of freckles he had never noticed before across her nose. Eyes dark and light in equal measure, the subtle ring of green in the white around her pupil contrasting sharply with her red hair.

She looked like an oil painting come to life.

Realizing he was staring he cast his eyes to the treeline.

Too late, she saw. Of course she did.

She smiled, coming to sit down next to him.

"Hungry?" She asked easily, holding up her wrist. Still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

He stared at it, the soft flesh, the vein blue underneath. Her long fingers curled back elegantly.

"Before you've had your breakfast? How ravenous do you take me for?"

"Oh my heart, I am such a wilted flower I couldnt possibly stand such trials! Oh watch me wither away before your very eyes!" She held the back of her hand to her forehead, leaning back dramatically.

He smiled, despite himself. "I thought you nobility types were of a softer constitution." Taking her wrist gingerly in his fingers.

"Maybe on the surface. In the Underdark its kill or be killed. If you haven't had an assassination against you by the time you learn to walk you're considered a failure." She laughed, but he wasnt sure if she was exaggerating.

"Well I am a little peckish..." He mused.

He wasn't. He had a full meal last night. But the draw of her blood, being offered so easily. Gods she would be the second death of him.

He brushed his lips against the curve of her wrist, breathing in her scent. Apple, cayenne, vanilla. Gods he could get drunk on it.

He sank in as gentle as he could. Her blood bursting into his mouth. Trying to keep some sense of decorum as their companions milled around them. Resisting the urge to grip down and growl.

Vaguely aware of Shadowheart's disapproving sigh. "In front of my oatmeal?"

"Oh please, I know you'd want this too if you were sanguine." Tav smiled, unfazed. Sending her a sultry look.

He glanced up momentarily, seeing Shadowheart's blush at her flirting. Shooting him a quick cut with her eyes. Turning abruptly back to her bowl.

He felt a proud thrill in his chest. That's right, he was the one buried in her wrist. Suck it Shadowheart.

Tav tapped his forearm twice. "Going a little numb here, handsome."

He pulled off with a quiet gasp. "Apologies, I must have been more hungry that I realized." Lies. Lies upon lies.

Handsome, he turned that word over in his head. He wanted her to call him pretty.

Blinked in shock at his thoughts.

Gods this is why he had been avoiding her. That night had been haunting him. He had tried to push the intense pleasure she had milked out of him into the past. The way she had touched him, soft but commanding.

Her words playing on repeat in his mind in the late hours of the night.

"Such a good girl for me."

"You okay, Star?" Her voice low, squeezing his knee lightly.

He realized he hadn't released her wrist, his fingers still circled around her.

"Sorry darling, I'm a little off this morning." He leaned down and licked her wound closed.

Noticed her hand hadn't left his knee, her thumb rubbing back and forth gently. The touch lighting him, little trails of fire.

"Anything I could do to help?" Her voice going soft again.

Yes.

"No, but thank you for offering, sweet thing."

He patted her thigh good naturedly. "Now go get your breakfast. You've earned it."

"Well as long as I've earned it." She winked at him, rising gracefully to her feet. "See you later, beautiful."

Gods he wanted to kiss her. Hard.

Later in camp the mood was jovial. The day, though grueling, walking, always walking. Had turned out promising, closing in on the temple where the Creche is supposed to be.

Someone had opened a bottle of wine and the air was full of laughter and conversation.

Halsin had gotten out his lute and was strumming happily. Wyll stood and offered her his hand in a flourish. She smiled and took it graciously.

He led her in a light waltz and she followed easily, feet twisting and stepping with a practiced grace.

Astarion watched this from a fallen log and tried to hide the seethe in his face.

Why were they always all over her? Gods it felt like he turned his back and another suitor had stepped into place.

Didnt they know she was his?

He shook his head. He had too much wine. He was being ridiculous. He needed air.

Trudging away towards the water, feeling eyes on his back but he didn't care.

Kneeling down he splashed the water on his face. Get ahold of yourself.

Sitting back on his haunches he sighed, looking up at the night sky.

Her eyes slid over his vision, becoming two new stars.

"Brooding all by yourself?"

He couldn't stand it anymore, pulling her head down by the nape of her neck. Her soft mouth meeting his upside down.

She whimpered in surprise, then relaxed into him. Kissing him back in that soft exploring way he had craved.

He twisted under her, turning to face her. Pulling her down into his lap, wrapping his hand around the back of her head with a growl.

She straddled over him, already pulling at his camp shirt, taking it in a fist full. Moaning softly into his mouth. Allowing his tongue to push hot into her.

"My tent?" She whispered as she pulled away to get a breath, his mouth following, trying to get more.

He nodded, practically sprinting to feet. Taking her hand.

They took the long way around, sneaking into the warm cave of her temporary home.

Gods the air swam with her here. It was overwhelming.

She closed the flap behind them securely. Barely enough time and he was pulling at her clothes. Releasing her shirt from her leggings.

"Gods, Star. What brought this on?" She gasped as he laved his tongue up her neck. Pulling her shirt over her head and throwing it far in the corner.

"I cant stop thinking about it." He moaned, undoing the ties on her trousers with one hand. Falling to knees and yanking them down.

Looking up at her through his lashes. "Please touch me like that again."

She smiled, kneeling down to him. Gloriously naked, she reached up to the pins in her hair and released it. Falling behind her shoulders in a carmine wave. So beautiful it made his chest hurt.

He caught sight of a straight scar over her heart, ran his fingers softly over it.

She leaned forward, fingers stroking his cheek softly. Sliding her mouth against his warmly. "I've been thinking about it too."

Pulling his shirt free, angling over his shoulders. "You were so beautiful that night."

He moaned into her mouth as she came back to him. Already painfully aroused.

She pushed him back gently, trailing hot kisses along his neck. Untying his leathers with sure fingers. Pulling them down just far enough that his cock could spring free. Already dripping precum.

She leaned into him, sliding the hollow of her hip against his length. Rocking back and forth slowly. Leg straddled around his thigh he could feel her wetness. Her mouth on his neck so softly kissing and biting.

The pressure of her hip was so good. His head fell back, giving her more room to find him. Her fingers coming up to softly drag along his nipple. The pads teasing back and forth.

She began grinding down on him, her breath catching. Hip sliding harder into his cock.

"Please, more." He moaned.

She leaned back and spat a long trail of saliva on his cock. Pushing into him with her hip again. Looking deep in his eyes.

Oh Gods that almost sent him over.

She pinched and rolled his nipple in her hand. Wetting her fingers obscenely. Bringing them back down.

He whined, arching his chest. Pushing his hips up into her. So close.

"You know, I think your ready." She purred, her hands gone.

He opened his eyes to see her reaching for something. Leaving him to reach inside a chest.

She held up a harness with a faux cock attached. His eyes went wide.

Oh Gods, yes. He pulled off his leathers with haste.

He helped her get it on her hips, pulling down the buckles and straps. She wet it with the slick from her cunt, pumping down it.

"Come here to me." She whispered, sliding onto her back.

He straddled over her, heart racing.

Coming down to kiss at her chest, sliding one of her peaks into his mouth. Reveled in the little moan that left her.

She held the length steady for him as he slowly lowered down. His eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Take what you need. I want to see it." She murmured into his hair.

Sitting flush to her he felt the stretch inside him. Already so full. His body gripping down eagerly.

He began his ride, lifting his hips and rolling back down. His breath a strained gasping already. Gods it was heaven.

He looked down at her and saw how her hips rocked into him, gripping his thighs. Her face flushed, eyes half lidded.

"So lovely, taking my cock like that." She smiled. Angling her hips just hard enough to hit the spot that undid him.

He lurched forward, bracing himself next to her head. An indignant whine leaving him. He cant be this close already.

She held his hips in place and fucked up into him. His body already starting to shudder in warning. She had found his prostate again and was slamming into it over and over.

"Please, please," He mewled, for what he wasn't sure. Seeing stars already.

She craned her neck up and caught his nipple in her mouth. Suckling down viciously with a delighted hum.

His while body jolted and he screwed his eyes shut. Oh Gods he didn't know if he could take it.

His pelvis contracted like a fist, the first waves hitting him. His mouth fell open in a silent scream. A bone deep shuddering ripping through him. The waves pummeling him in tortuous rapture. He white knuckled around her thigh. It was all he could do not to cry out. His spend spilling hot onto her belly in gushes.

She pulled him into her chest with hushed assurances as he sobbed quietly. A sudden rush of emotion overcoming him. Gripping onto the back of her neck.

"You're okay, you're okay." She whispered into the curl of his hair. Her legs crossing behind his back, nuzzling down into his shoulder. "You did so good."

That made him sob harder, burying his face in her hair. Holding onto her like a life raft in a storm.

"You're safe, you're here."

Laying awake, staring at the roof of his tent his mind raced.

He could lie to himself, say it was just the wine, the long road, his hunger, that had driven him to her arms.

He was a good liar but not that good.

Sighing he turned on his side.

What a fool he was. Falling for his mark. A simple plan shattered into a million pieces at her feet.

She had entranced him body and soul.

He bit back a small smile, his dead heart racing in light and fear.

Tomorrow. He would tell her tomorrow.

~

Part 3

[royalarchivist]

Fit: [Releasing two large wild cats into the Federation Bakery] That's right, Mr. Baker, you've got some company now! Isn't that wonderful? Nothing bad's gonna happen there. No, it's all gonna be good.

Federation Baker: [Gets mauled]

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[iguessitsjustme]

I think it was really important specifically for Dee to kiss Yak when he did. Because now, no matter what happens in the future between him and Yak, no matter what pain could come, Dee can look back on his first kiss without regrets. Because that was a kiss made of love. It was made entirely of love for Yak. For who Yak is. For the bond they have. For their friendship. For their relationship. For them. Dee will always be able to look back on his first kiss and know that he got exactly what he wanted from it. He got to keep his silly notion of the perfect first kiss. He got to willingly give his kiss away to someone who he loved that needed it. Every single type of love went into that kiss and now Dee can finally, finally let himself breathe.

[storkteller]

ominis: you can't bring anybody into the undercroft, sebastian! mc:

[camels-pen]

turning those crumbs into a fuckimn meal

(context)

[podcastenthusiast]

Of course Astarion is the first to say "yes I would like to eat that tadpole" in Act 1. It's gross, but he was forced to eat rats and bugs for 200 years. This will give him power, though, a sense of control and safety he craves as much as fresh blood. This is his choice.

And later, when he rejects using the astral tadpole, when he refuses that promise of greater power because it comes at the cost of his body changing again... that is such incredible character growth. So much of Act 2 and 3 for Astarion is learning there are things he actually isn't willing to sacrifice for power. He never had a choice before so it really is something he has to learn.