#whirl cooking in the sun

[cyber-rivet]

somewhat a continuation of my mermay cywhirlgate. as the deep winter sets in where i live, i craaaave the summer heeeaaattt

really quick beachformers [i'm coining that hehe] doodle before i go out of office for a couple of weeks [surprise!].

i'm hoping to be back by around the 23rd? until then, i won't really be posting on tumblr, but i'll try to be active on twitter, posting whatever doodles i can manage on my phone screen.

au revoir my little peens! be gay, do crime!

[peachesofteal]

The Crypt anthology

“You dropped this.”

You whirl on a dime, legs twisting together and rolling you off balance at the last second, the stranger’s hand shooting out to try to steady you before you catch yourself. “Alright little love?” Powder blue eyes hold you tight, some sort of virose thrall bearing down into your temples, rooting around in the matter between your ears.

“I’m fine.” You manage, but the words lack conviction. Long fingers dig in the soft spirals of your brain, looking for something, picking and pulling.

“Lookin’ a bit peckish there, sure you’re alright?” All you can manage is a nod, one foot sliding behind the other, placing you firmly out of reach.

“I’m fine.” The two words are all you can manage, still trying to escape the trance, the dark tug behind your ribs. Long silence plays out, and with a closer look, you register him fully. Tall. Broad. Shoulders wide enough to close in around you, green jacket faded into sun parched moss. It wouldn’t button around his chest, the waffle henley beneath doing you no favors by the way it tapers to his belt, a strong jaw cloaked by a swath of beard and moustache.

Older than you, stronger than you, an astral man amidst a city of depravity.

Step closer.

A storm cracks outside, thunder rattling the windows, your vision tunneling inside the market, people doing their shopping ebbing around you, a rock in water, stalls and their goods fading into the distance.

The only thing you can see is this stranger and his bright blue eyes. “Thanks,” you croak, knuckles tense on the strap of your bag, net of spilled oranges now safely tucked inside the canvas. When did that happen? Your smile is forced, seasick though the ground is solid beneath you, and when the eye contact breaks to flicker over your shoulder, you jolt back to your sense, and turn away.

The blue eyes stay with you all the way home, into your flat, through the night. You think about them as you cook yourself dinner, as you pour yourself a too generous glass of wine. You feel them as you curl up on the couch, malignant presence lingering just outside your window.

It’s only once you undress and slip under your blankets that you finally feel a semblance of peace, as if the gaze has moved on, the undying focus abated in a sliver of moonlight.

Your dreams are filled with blood.

An oil slick across an ocean, too vast to know where it ends and begins, you fight to keep your head above water, legs kicking frivolously in the dark, terror tight around your throat, horror lurking on the outside of your mind. Thalassophobia renders you almost useless, the panic just enough to keep the drowning at bay.

Can you die in a dream?

A hand appears from nowhere, and you cling to it, wailing and gasping until you’re pulled ashore, laid flat on your back against black stone sand.

“Alright little love?” Him. The same eyes peer down, shining like the sun, chasing away the darkness settled in around you. He stuns you.

“Y-yeah.” He’s close enough cigar smoke permeates your air, your fingers gripping the front of his shirt like a lifejacket. It takes a moment, a second of realization-

You’re covered in blood. Hands, feet, forearms, face. It coats your lips, iron and earth in your nose, soaked all the way to your lungs. Heavier than tar, slicked to your windpipe, drowning your beating heart in ichor.

“Oh god, oh my god, what- what is this, what is this-“ You’ve never heard your own voice at this pitch, shrill, piercing, the sound of someone crying, the sound of someone freefalling.

That can’t be you, can it?

“Easy now.” He holds you by the shoulders. The sun and moon cycle overhead, light and darkness rotating, disorienting you further, a whimper crawling from your throat. “Shhh, I know, I know,” he rubs your temple, thumb stained ruby red, and then lifts it to his mouth, lips curled into a devilish smile, “knew you’d be perfect f’me.” The ground begins to shake, the sky splitting apart, white tendrils snaking across the sea to your ankles, and he frown, disappointment lingering in the lines of his face. The rough scrape of his beard presses to your cheek with a kiss, and he nestles a coin into the palm of your hand, the dream turning opaque before disappearing completely, your eyes opening to ceiling of your bedroom.

Just a dream, you remind yourself throughout the day. Just a dream, though it’s nearly impossible to keep your mind from wandering, remembering, tasting the salt of the ichor like it’s still fresh on your tongue.

“Hey!” Your coworker snaps her fingers, alarm flashing across her face. “Are you okay? You look… sick.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Maybe you should call it a day. Seriously, you look like death.” Your agreement is weak as she practically shoves you out the door. “Go home and take a nap or something.”

“Hello again.” Your heart jolts, battering against your bones in a frantic beat. “No need to be scared.” You blink. “I’m John… from the market yesterday? You dropped your oranges?”

“John.” Your tongue ties around his name, and though its polite to give yours, you can’t force it out. His brow furrows.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Good sense and manners appear, spurred on by years of chastising by your mother, and you grimace.

“Oh. Sorry. I’m a bit under the weather.” He looms ahead of you, blocking a portion of the sidewalk.

“Headed home then?” You nod. “I’ll walk you.”

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary.” He gives you a sharp look, the dispel to an argument, razored, jagged teeth closing in around your attempt at a refusal, and pulls at your wrist, thumb holding steady over your pulse point, heart rate slowing from a panic to a lull.

Your head hangs, and you slump, exhaustion tugging your limbs down towards the ground. The path doesn’t split before you, no way to choose one way or another, hedgerows too tall to peer over, lost and unable to discern the way. Your hands find your pockets, and brush across something unfamiliar and cool.

A coin.

Darkness closes in around you-

And the word goes black.

You wake in a bed.

Not your bed.

It’s big, wide enough your legs and arms spread out with touching the edge of the mattress. The sheets are fine, cotton you could never afford, threads delicate, spun silk. Luxury. A far cry from your one-bedroom flat.

“There you are.” Time jolts, bringing you into the present with startling speed, a hand clasping over your mouth before you can release a scream. “No need for that.”

“John?” You mumble into his palm. Your head is natant, woozy with the rocking, feet scrambling on a ship far away, desperate to hold tight to a rail, a lifeline, a moment of balance in a violent storm. “I’m gonna be sick.”

There’s a haunting, familiar taste on your lips and you lick them over and over, the tip of an iceberg, a memory just barely visible above placid water. You grasp at it, tug yourself closer, swallow the nostalgia until it rears its head-

Blood.

Horror wraps an unforgiving fist around your throat.

“What-“

“Welcome home.” What? Your feet tangle in the sheets, a net around your ankles. His big, warm hand flattens over your chest, blue gaze honing in, the predator ready to devour his prey. “Can hear your heart, little love.”

“This isn’t my h-home.”

“It is now.” He’s casual, leaning by your hip, now stroking deft fingers over your ribs. “This is my home, and now it’s yours too. You don’t need to worry, you’ll be well cared for.” The cold green sick feeling surges, and you roll over to the side of the mattress, spewing the contents of your stomach onto polished hardwood floors.

It’s not bile, or water, or even food.

It’s red. Dark red, dripping off your lips like rain, flooding the grooves beneath you. He rubs your back like you’re a child who needs soothing, grip tight on your arm when you try to rip away.

“It won’t always be like this,” he coos, clucking his tongue in sympathy, “the taste is difficult to get used to.”

“The taste of what?”

“Blood.”

[sst0rmm]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ in the mornings ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

ft: rin.

notes: just pure sunshine fluff ✧˖°.

part/series: 1.0 2.0 3.0

wc: 1328

he's doesn't wake you up, and prefers to let you sleep the night away to your heart's content (sleeping makes you happy), and he notices and cares about that.

it's the little things....

rin wakes up early before you. he's always been an early bird, up as soon as the sun rises, and a sleepy saturday is no exception. so you're left to be woken up by the birds chirping and the sun shining and the smell of your favorite food wafting through the open doorway. and you'll get up, slowly walk your way downstairs.

the moment's surprisingly domestic, rin's shirtless and clad in an apron (even though it's a little drafty downstairs), you're in his shirt, and for a second there's nothing but the sound of sizzling bacon reverberating on the walls and making you feel completely at home.

"did you sleep well?" you smile, because you suddenly feel refreshly rejuvenated.

"yeah, i really, really did."

rin is SUCH a sweetheart dasifjsdiofjjjsfdi LMAOO like...

you cannot prove me wrong once he gets to know you he's literally warm and allasdfjdfoi

and his cooking's mad scrumptious i am telling u

breakfast, as usual is warm and lifts you up. down to your veins, the utter core and heart of your being, because you can tell that he made it with love, and that's most important. and once you're done, you make a move to go do the dishes, but he won't let you. (the man's serious, what can i say?)

"i can do it-"

"don't worry," rin pulls you into a swift hug and you're suddenly surrounded by a cocoon of strong, comforting arms, "i got it."

"but you already cooked? we should split-"

rin looks at you fondly, amusement glimmering in teal eyes. it's a look that can stop time, shatter you, and pick you up anew. it's the look of the sunsets you saw together last september, and it's that look of pure adoration and love.

"you should rest," he whispers as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek that leaves your stomach whirling and your nerves dancing alight. "you're worth it."

oh if you only knew HOW BAD i need a rin in my life

we all need a rin tbh because he's sooo sweet and so caring when he's comfy around you

+ a little jelly bcs !!!!

this next scene is utter beauty... you'll see...

waking up is hard when you're utterly entangled in the strong arms of the one you love.

the sun hums softly through the windows, blanketing everything in golden radiance. a clear, blue expanse of sky gazes down at you from above. the clock blinks at you in soft red letters the time (11 P.M.), but neither of you seem to make a move to get up.

it’s the power of a sleepy saturday.

a soft murmur (the doorbell) cuts through your haze of thoughts. “i’ll get it-” rin starts but you push the covers back onto him, pressing him back down onto the soft mattress.

“don’t worry, i got it,” you smile, and he wraps you in a warm hug.

“if you’re gone too long, i’ll miss you!” he calls over your shoulder. you smile back at him. it’s so easy to fall back into that comforting, perfect rhythm, where it’s just the two of you. indelible touches and soft warmth, broken down to sand, it’s just the two of you. against the world, fighting together, the two of you.

your heart blossoms with a warmth that swells from your head down to the very core of your being, and sits happily there, a pleasant, steady heat that makes the silence feel so full.

at your door’s a cute, smiling pizza man.

“delivery for y/n?” he smiles down at you, while holding that cardboard box.

“thanks so much!” you turn to grab your wallet from the counter, and come back right after. the air’s crackling with some unspoken tension, and you feel and hear movement behind you, but you disregard it.

inhaling the aroma of cheesy goodness, you feel oddly refreshed.

the man looks you up and down, and you suddenly realize you’re in a ratty set of pajamas and cross your arms over yourself a little self-consciously.

“the weather’s gorgeous today, isn’t it?” the man smiles and you find it in yourself to smile back. he’s just being nice, you chide yourself.

“yeah-” you start, “it really, really is.”

as you move to swipe your credit card across the gleaming screen of the touchless payment scanner, your feet get caught on the rug and you fall down, down, down…

right into the pizza guy’s arms. as your cheeks color and flame, and you murmur a hasty apology and scramble away, the man smirks.

“fell for me already, didn’t you?”

you wince. he’s cute, with warm eyes and dimples, but he’s no rin itoshi. “actually,” you start, “i’m flattered, but i’m not interested.”

the guy looks at you in surprise. “what, do you have a boyfriend or someth-”

immediately, rin’s presence materializes by you as if summoned. it’s a little uncanny, you think to yourself. and you have to admit, seeing rin stare down his opposition is a sight to see.

it doesn’t help the other guy’s case that rin’s fit as anything, either. just the glare he gives his opponents is enough to make them recoil. he crosses his arms over his broad chest and gives the delivery guy a penetrating stare. (you feel a little bad for this poor pizza man). but also, it fills you with molten heat and just love that rin would even care about these little things.

“yeah,” rin drawls underneath the summer sun, “she does have a boyfriend.” he wraps his bicep around your waist and tugs you close.

“so if i were you,” rin leans in towards the guy and whispers, “i’d probably leave now.”

somehow, the pressured worker manages to keep his wits intact. “you haven’t paid-”

“i’ll handle it, y/n,” rin whispers in your ear and waves you off. as you sit down on your sofa and calm your racing heart, you’re hit with such a wave of emotion that your heart weeps. because you’re rin itoshi’s, and he doesn’t care if the whole world knows it.

rin’s by your side minutes later and he sees your tears. “why’re you crying? is it me- don’t cry because of me-” he hugs you close, and wipes away your tears with gentle fingers.

“i’m not sad, rin,” you smile up at him, “happy tears. happy because you love me, and you don’t care if the whole world knows it-”

“even if you are a jealous-”

he pulls you in close and whispers fiercely. “damn right i’m jealous, because i got the best person in the world right beside me. and i’ll never let you go, and i’ll always love you. let the world say what they want to say, because you’re mine.”

“i love you too, rin-”

and then he pulls you into a searing kiss, embedding himself into your very soul and your entire mind is consumed with just rin itoshi. featherlight touches leave trails of heat down your face, and you breathe a soft sigh.

because rin in the mornings (and any other time) is truly just a sight to behold.

“say it,” rin murmurs and pulls away. you’re both breathing a little heavy and he looks at you with such love and emotion in his eyes that you know what he needs.

“i’m yours.”

the next kiss sends off fireworks in your heart and ignites your world in a blaze of life because you’re rin’s, he’s yours, and the two of you together are unstoppable.

there will be ups and downs. highs of unimaginable greatness and lows and worlds of hurt. but you’ll get through it.

together.

OH MY GOD MWA MWA MWA AHHHHHH

rin is truly the best lover when he's with you, i refuse to believe othwerise.... well i know he''ll prob be AWKWARD and cold at first.. (i'll totally do an arranged marriage sitch on my ao3 oh i love the idea already)

stay tuned for part two (guess which character in comments!!! or request which one im open) i'll link it under the series column when it's rdy ;)

thank u sm for reading, and thank you to @enchanthings for these lovely page dividers. grateful foreva 🫶

(rin pics bcs i love him sm, look at that penetrating stare and bro has hella eyelashes..)

ASJFDSOIF ok THANKS FOR REEADING AGAIN!!

part two is up and linked!!! happy reading :)

[yandere-paramour]

Whats it like when Darling has their first time with Noelle?

First time with Noelle - NSFW

It was hard to pin Noelle down. Ever since you moved in, you two had followed the same routine. She gently encouraged you to work less and less because it made you oh so exhausted, to stay inside for your own safety, to lay back and relax because she would take care of everything. You became a housewife who didn't actually do anything. Noelle had a woman come in to clean and cook and deliver anything that needed delivering, your job, she said, was to be adorable.

And you were. You slept 10 hours every night and usually found the time to take an afternoon nap. You ate and drank when you were supposed to and looked pleased with the praise Noelle heaped upon you when she checked when she came home. You let her dress you in soft, flowy fabrics and coo over what a lovely little sweetheart you were. You even let her bathe you and wash your hair while you lay boneless in the bubbly water.

It was a relaxing existence, albeit a boring one. Any form of entertainment you asked for, Noelle delivered. Any book, streaming service, or gaming console would be delivered, and you were free to browse the internet and try as many new hobbies as you desired. Spending your days with Sasha as company, you lived like a pampered queen, and Noelle worked hard every day to provide for you.

And that was the one problem.

Noelle worked with Ms. Atalanta five, sometimes six, days a week, and the hours were never consistent. Some days she would be gone from before the sun rose to long into the next morning, other days she would be strolling back in the door in early afternoon. This kind of sounded stupid, but it was hard to find time for yourself. Especially... in that way. It seemed that any time the heat started to pool in your core, when your fingers got itchy and started to wander lower and lower, Noelle would come in the door looking for you, and you would have to throw on your clothes and act like you hadn't been furiously masturbating. It was infuriating.

And you couldn't go to Noelle with this. Sure, you two had done some kissing and heavy petting, and while she had been under your shirt, you both had never crossed the waistbands of each other's pants. There just... weren't enough hours in the day, and Noelle really didn't seem interested. You expected her to initiate one day, and you would gladly have spread your legs, but she never did, and you were too shy to do it yourself.

You were really starting to get frustrated. When you moved in, you had brought your toys, but they must've gotten mixed with you and Noelle's things somehow because you hadn't been able to find them. And trust, you had looked. You hated admitting to this, but you were turning into a horny animal.

And the horny was turning your brain to mush. At least, that's how you rationalized it as you lay prone on the bed, blue silk panties in a pool on the floor, your fingers frantically pumping in and out of you as you chased an orgasm too far out of reach. You sure weren't shy anymore.

"And what do we have here?" A familiar voice came from behind you and ice filled your veins.

Your head whirled over your shoulder. You must've looked like an idiot, face down, ass up, fingers still inside you as you looked at Noelle, leaning against the door jamb, eyebrow raised as she took you in.

Slowly, you took your hand out, careful to keep the excess fluid from dripping on the silk sheets. You turned over, trying unsuccessfully to regain some dignity as you pulled the blankets over to cover yourself.

"Hi Noelle," You swallowed dryly, "When did you come home?"

"Just now. And to something interesting, I might add. What are we doing?" Noelle gave you a mildly disapproving look and your face burned with shame, then anger.

"This is your fault!" You exploded at her, "What the hell do I have to do to get you to touch me? I've lived with you for eight months and you never go past kissing! I'm in your bed every night in a silk neglige and no panties! Am I not attractive to you or something?"

You started to lose some steam, and tears came to your eyes, "Don't you love me?"

Noelle was silent for a minute, and you started to wilt. As small as she was, she had an incredibly imposing presence and you had never even spoken sharply to her before, let alone yelled at her like this. You had no idea why she was looking at you in that way, or what she might say or do. You didn't want to admit it, but you were kind of scared.

"Oh, baby..." Noelle looked at you with pitying eyes, "I clearly have not been taking care of you the way you needed. I had no idea, Princess."

Well, this was unexpected, "What?"

"I was trying to take it slow and really ease you in, but I guess I was a little too slow. I just didn't want to push you too fast."

"Huh? What do you-"

"Take off the rest of your clothes. On your back, legs spread. I'm going to the closet for a minute, and you will wait here for me."

"Noelle, I don't understan-"

"Now."

At the sound of her authoritarian voice, you hurried to obey. You tore your shirt off and lay on your back wide open as instructed, your genitals lubricating despite your confusion and apprehension. What was she doing? Was she going to punish you? Was masturbating not allowed here? You had been punished before but never sexually, and Noelle had never made the rule clear if it even existed, but would she listen if you protested? You were unclear how important this was to her; maybe she was angrier than you'd ever seen her and she would spank you. You heard Ms. Atalanta did that to her wife and she reported it was effective at curbing disobedient behavior. But then, why would she order you on your back?

A sound came from your right and you turned to gape. Noelle was naked, every inch of her soft pale body on display and illuminated by day, making her look like a goddess emerging from the sunlight. You had seen her naked before, you both bathed together most nights, but you had never seen the harness and erect dildo she had strapped to her front. The contraption was massive, making Noelle's body look smaller in comparison, and what little ration you had left in your body wondered if it would fit. You weren't a virgin, but you were tight and unsure if you would stretch to fit that mammoth thing inside you.

You tried to sit up, but she was on you in seconds, that snake on the front of her body lining up with your hole. You stilled, and some of the fear must have bled into your eyes because Noelle paused. She put her hands on your face, making you look her in the eye.

"Are you scared? I'll stop if you're scared," She said.

"I-I'm not scared, just... will that fit?"

Noelle popped two fingers down to check you, "It'll be a little of a stretch but you can take me. I'm sure of it."

"I-I can?"

She grinned, and the love in her eyes comforted you, "You're my girl. I know you can."

With that, she entered you in one swift motion. She surprised you, enabling your muscles not to tense up until she was fully inside. You yelped, more in surprise than discomfort, and Noelle chuckled. She was right; you had been able to take her with little more than the burn as you stretched deliciously around her. She gave you only a few seconds to get used to the feeling of her inside you before she started. She was only gentle for a few strokes before she truly found her rhythm, folding up your legs onto her shoulders in a mating press so she could fuck you harder. She pounded into you roughly, the soft mattress bouncing you up and down as you struggled to keep yourself steady. Noelle's soft grunts came with every stroke and you mewled like a kitten and drooled as she took you.

It truly surprised you the strength this small woman had in her body. She mounted you like an animal, pumping away with everything she had. You could see the strain in her muscles, and you wanted her to take a break and rest before she exhausted herself, but all your mouth could say was "Yes" and "More" and "Please please please".

Ever the observer, Noelle noticed when you were nearing orgasm. She growled something dominating in your voice, commanding you to orgasm for her, and you howled like a coyote as you came. Tears rolled down your face, and you collapsed dizzy, exhausted, and sweating back onto the bed. You must've looked like a sight, fucked into a state of bliss and drenched in your own fluids. Noelle pulled out of you, looking down at you warmly as she swiped some of you off the dildo, bringing her fingers to her mouth to taste you.

"I knew you would be sweet," She chuckled, lightly pinching your cheek in a gesture of fondness.

"N-Noelle, that was-"

"I know, Princess. Try and relax, okay? Let me take care of you."

"Take... care of me?"

"You've lost a lot of fluids," She gestured between your legs, "Let me get you some water."

"No," You grabbed her arm to keep from leaving you, "Not yet. Don't go yet."

"I'm not leaving you, sweetheart. I'm just going to get you some water and something quick to eat."

You gave her your softest, most pathetic gaze, "Not yet, please? I just want to cuddle first."

Noelle froze for a second in that shocked look she always gave you when you surprised her, then softened, "Well I can't deny that request. Scoot over, baby."

Noelle slipped the harness off her hips and dropped it on the floor to clean later. She slid in behind you, tucking her body around yours, and you curled in response to her becoming the big spoon. It was safe here in her arms; she was so much stronger, smarter, more ambitious than you. It was easier for you to just settle in her arms, content to be a pretty pet for her to love and care for and occasionally reward with a good fucking. Maybe the necklace she gave you was her inconspicuous way of collaring you, her way of marking you as hers before others, or even you, knew for sure.

Noelle whispered about how good you were, how well you took every little thing she gave you and how perfect you looked with her cock spearing you in half. You listened, her words liquefying your mind and the pleasant tingling in your used genitals soothing your body. You would be sore later, but now you were snug in her arms, the hormones of your orgasm and the soft song Noelle hummed putting you to sleep.

She kissed your forehead, and you made a soft, sleepy noise in response.

Noelle chuckled, "Go to sleep, angel. I'll be here when you wake up, and you and I can have a long conversation about new expectations when you wake up."

You made a confused sound, and she patted your head and hushed you.

"I know, Princess," Noelle pacified you, "I know what you want and I promise, I'll do that a lot more often. I'd give you anything, remember?"

You gave a small happy wiggle and snuggled back in, pleased that your amazing girlfriend knew you better than you knew yourself, and had promised to fuck you like a dog in heat more frequently.

[aynavaano]

Heaven is here

Old Crosshair x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 4.5k

Summary:

You live on Pabu together with your husband Crosshair, it’s been many years since you turned your back on the war in the galaxy and decided to build a peaceful life together on the Island. Don’t be deceived by the domestic fluff, this is filthy smut.

Notes:

Sooooo…I know you’re all waiting for my Old Hunter fic but what can I say, when this art dropped my hand slipped and here we are with over 4k Crosshair smut and fluff. There’s oral f recieving, unprotected sex, Crosshair is a tease as always. I don’t even know how to tag this, domestic kink? Wife kink ? Is it dubcon if he gives you more orgasms than you think you can take? Also Tech lives, because he does and I will die on that hill. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and for all my Hunter girlies (gn) don’t worry I have not one but two drafts ready to go over.

Even with the risk of another sea surge, you and Crosshair took on the challenge of rebuilding a house in Lower Pabu many years ago. Perched atop a substantial rock, it offered seclusion, tranquility, and an unparalleled view of the ocean—a retreat away from the lively upper streets, precisely what you both had wanted when you decided to move in together. With your own private beach cove accessible from the terrace, and ample space for a garden around, it was a dream, that would have been impossible to fulfill in bustling Upper Pabu. Despite the misconceptions perpetuated by others, over the countless years of marriage, your love and attraction for each other have not faded; instead, they have grown deeper and stronger with time. You love the peaceful life you built together, as a former Jedi you had your fair share of war time yourself and when you arrived here you never looked back. If you are not occupied with helping the refugees on the island heal from their traumas, you spend most days swimming, cooking, baking and tending to the garden.

Today is a quiet Benduday morning, the weather is wonderful like almost always here on the island and you're already up, allowing Crosshair to sleep in after a late-night fishing trip with his brothers.

After your usual reviving morning swim, you whirl through the house and refresh the guest room's sheets, and the blanket in Batchers basket, so Omega can stay overnight whenever she wants. Occasionally, also Hunter stays for a night or two, seeking respite for his heightened senses, when he gets too overwhelmed or just wants to spend a quiet evening with Crosshair.

Preparations for the weekly family dinner, a tradition that you hold dearly since many years and rotate with Phee and Wrecker's partner, are well underway. Wrecker's favorite cookies bake in the oven, Techs favored wine is already in the fridge and the fully opened expansive glass doors, leading to the terrace and garden, invite in a refreshing ocean breeze, accompanied by your favorite tunes—a perfect start to the day, just how you like it.

With Crosshair seemingly still asleep, you choose to whip up his favorite pancakes for breakfast, relishing in the soft flow of the morning. As you gather all the ingredients und cut up the first Jogan fruits of the season, from your garden, you can't help but smile, grateful for the bliss of this idyllic day. You often spend time with the others but family dinner days are the best because everyone makes an effort to be there, even Echo comes by when he’s around and it’s always chaotic and fun. You decide to make some juice, a platter of fruit and finish up the pancakes before you go wake your husband, humming along and dancing around as you swirl through the big open kitchen.

*************

As the sun ascends higher in the sky, its warm rays peek through the bedroom curtains, gently nudging Crosshair from his slumber. Stretching lazily, he finds himself alone in bed, the absence of your warmth prompting him to go look for you. When he realizes the delicious aroma of fresh fruit and cookies fills the air, teasing his senses and drawing him downstairs, he already knows where to find you.

The last days were unusually hot even for Pabu, so he opts for a pair of lightweight black linen pants and skips a shirt for now as he makes his way down to the lower floor of your home. Passing by the guest room, he notices the neatly made bed and fresh sheets, a display of your thoughtfulness towards his siblings, who occasionally like to stay over. That you care for them as much as he does is something he always deeply loved about you.

Arriving down in the main living area with the big open kitchen, that you wanted and he was happy to build for you, he's greeted by the sight of you, happily moving through the space in one of his shirts, loosely cascading around your curves. Your hair, still slightly damp from the morning swim and wavy from the salt water adds to your radiant aura as you hum along to the melody of your favorite song. The scene before him fills him with a profound sense of contentment and he pauses, taking a moment to soak in the beauty of the moment, grateful for the life you've built together. It's a scene he never imagined could be his reality, and he still finds himself savoring every moment of it, cherishing the warmth and comfort of home in your loving presence.

************

As you begin to mix the batter, the vibrant aroma of baked goods and fresh garden fruits wafts through the air, filling the kitchen with a delightful scent. The table on the terrace is already set with two big glasses of fresh juice and an assortment of fruits harvested from your garden, ready to complement the morning meal.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupts your daydreaming, and you glance up to see Crosshair descending.

His distinguished grey locks cascade in gentle waves, slightly tousled from a long night and his linen pants hang effortlessly low on his hips, accentuating his body in all the right places. Despite the passage of time, he remained as lean and sculpted as ever. After experimenting for a while and despite Echos half serious attempts to convince him a scomp link would be best, he opted for a detachable cybernetic hand covered with a skin like texture, some days he likes to cover it with a glove and some days he prefers to not wear the attachment at all. The scars that once marked his skin have faded with the years, becoming mere whispers of the battles he's fought and the challenges he's overcome and the line of soft grey hair tracing a path down his belly never fails to draw your attention.

Gazing upon him, you're overcome with a surge of love and admiration for the man before you. Despite the inevitable march of age, he still exudes an undeniable beauty and sexiness and the effect he has on you only seems to deepen with time.

He leans against the dining table, a soft smile gracing his lips as he watches you dance around the kitchen, humming along to the lyrics of the song.

"You're like a dream," he says, his voice filled with admiration.

You glance over at him, a playful twinkle in your eye.

"Join me," you invite him, extending your hand.

With a chuckle, he shakes his head. "I'd rather watch you dance. You're mesmerizing."

As the song fills the air, you swirl around getting the cookies out of the oven, your movements perfectly synchronized with the music.

Crosshair's gaze never leaves you, his admiration visible in every glance. He knows that moments like these, watching you dance with such joy and abandon, are something truly special.

“…hmm…mhh…heaven is here if you want it…mhh..”

As the song reaches its peak, you sing along with passion, your voice intertwining with the singers.

"…all gilded and golden, yes, I'm your girl…Hell, if it glitters I'm going…," you sing, your voice ringing clear and true.

Crosshair's smile widens, his heart swelling with love and pride as he watches you, his partner, his wife, embracing life with unbridled enthusiasm and determination despite all you’ve been through.

"…hmm…with my gun in my hand, you know I always get my man..." you hum.

With a gentle smile, he approaches you, enveloping you in a tender embrace from behind before pressing his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. His head rests against yours as he inhales deeply, savoring the comforting scent that surrounds you both.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

You dip your finger in the pancake batter and offer him a taste, letting him lick it from your fingers with a wide grin.

"Mm, Jogan pancakes…my favorite…you spoil me" he remarks with a smile, clearly enjoying the indulgent treat.

"They just started ripening in the garden, I picked the first ones this morning", you add watching as he savors the flavor.

“Let me help you, what can I do?”

"No, no. Go sit on the terrace, my love. I'll bring the pancakes and fresh caff in just a few minutes. Enjoy the sun before it gets too hot outside."

With a final lingering kiss, he reluctantly releases you and makes his way out onto the terrace, the sunlight casting a warm glow upon his features as he steps out, greeted by the inviting sight of the table already adorned with freshly squeezed juice and an array of meticulously cut fruits. The cushions in the lounge area are all arranged with care, and the blankets neatly folded. He flops down onto one of the big cushions, contentment washing over him as he takes in the salty breeze.

Through the open floor to ceiling terrace windows, he watches you move happily around the kitchen, effortlessly stacking the pancakes onto a large plate. The love he feels for you swells within him, a profound gratitude for the care and affection you shower upon him and his family and it’s not something you feel obliged to do but it actually makes you happy. It's a feeling he never grows accustomed to, despite all the years, he’s sometimes still in disbelief that he could be so blessed.

But this morning, there's a special glow about you, an aura of warmth and love that envelops everything you do, and he feels his cock growing hard in his pants watching you. As you reach up to retrieve the caff from the upper shelves, the hem of your shirt, his shirt, rides up, revealing a glimpse of your beautiful soft ass and he inhales sharply when he realizes you're wearing absolutely nothing underneath.

With each movement you make, each delicate gesture, he feels a surge of desire building within him. Unable to resist any longer, he begins palming himself through his pants, his arousal growing as he gives in to the intoxicating effect you have on him.

*************

The pancakes are done, each one perfectly cooked and stacked high on a nice plate. You pour two cups of freshly brewed caff, adding a drop of sweet syrup and a splash of blue milk to your own before gathering everything up and making your way out onto the terrace. As you step outside, you find Crosshair basking in the sunlight, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his body, his gaze lingering on you with an unmistakable hunger and a prominent bulge evident in his pants, that really don’t do a good job in hiding it.

When he sees you approaching he gets up and with a few steps he is right before you wrapping one arm around you, immediately sliding under your shirt and squeezing your ass, taking the plate and cups from you with the other hand.

He sets them down on the table, before quickly indulging in a sip of his caff. Then, without hesitation, he scoops you up into his arms, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss as he lowers you both onto the cushions, pulling you on top of him so that you are straddling him.

"Sorry love, forgive me but breakfast will have to wait," he says with a desire burning in his eyes.

With a swift motion, he removes your shirt, leaving you completely exposed to the warming rays of the sun. His eyes roam over your naked form, appreciating every curve and contour as your hair falls in soft waves around your shoulders. His touch is gentle yet possessive as his hands explore your body, his desire undeniable in the hardness pressing against your stomach.

"Do you know how utterly perfect you are?" he murmurs, his voice laced with adoration. "Always so good to me, always caring, always loving."

Before you can respond, his lips find yours once more, his tongue pleading for access before before he starts trailing down your neck with hungry open mouthed kisses and soft bites that will surely leave a mark. Despite the many years, he still enjoys marking you as a silent affirmation of your bond.

Crosshair's touch ignites a fire within you as he begins to explore your body with his hands and lips. His kisses are soft and teasing, further trailing down from your neck to your chest where he cups your breasts, massaging them with skillful fingers. You gasp as he takes one of your nipples between his lips, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before giving it a gentle nip.

"Oh, Cross," you moan, your voice a breathy plea as his ministrations send waves of pleasure coursing through you.

He hums in response, his hands continuing their sensual assault on your body as he moves to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. His touch is both tender and demanding, each caress fueling your desire and you can already feel how wet you are getting.

"Stars, you're so beautiful…mmh…let me take care of you" he whispers, his voice husky with desire as he gazes up at you with a hunger that leaves you weak in the knees.

Before you can fully process his words, Crosshair swoops you up, effortlessly lifting you until you are straddling his face.

“Mmh…so fucking beautiful”

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his warm breath against your core, his tongue darting out to taste you.

"Fuck," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, one hand reaching out, desperately searching for something to hold on to, as he begins to lick and suckle at your sensitive flesh. Each stroke of his tongue sends shivers of pleasure racing through your body, building the tension coiled tight within you.

“Stars…you’re so wet for me….let me make you feel good” he murmurs between two painfully slow licks up and down your folds, the vibration of his voice sending a jolt through your core.

"Please," you whimper, arching your back as Crosshair's tongue works its magic. "I need your fingers inside me…or your cock"

He lifts his head, glancing up at you from underneath, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. "Not yet, love," he says, his voice husky with desire. "I want to make you come first."

You moan in frustration, but his lips descend once more, and all coherent thoughts evaporate and your mind goes blank when he starts sucking on your clit.

Crosshair's movements are relentless, his tongue dancing over your clit with a practiced rhythm that leaves you teetering on the brink of release. He knows exactly how to push you to the edge, his touch driving you wild with need. His hands get a hold of your hips pushing you further down onto him.

"Fuck," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair. "I'm so close."

"Come for me, and I promise I’ll fuck you however you want," he growls, the vibration of his voice sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. "Just let go and give me everything."

His words are the final push you needed, the dam of pleasure breaking as you tumble over the edge into bliss. Your back arches, a guttural cry escaping your lips as you ride out the waves of ecstasy crashing over you, your pussy clenching around nothing leaving you desperate to be filled.

Crosshair continues to devour you, his firm grip on your hips steadying you so you don’t fall over and his tongue working tirelessly to prolong your pleasure until you are a panting and whimpering mess in his arms. As you come down from your high, he gently lowers you back onto the cushions, his hands caressing your trembling body with infinite tenderness.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, wiping away the remnants of your juices on his face and pressing soft kisses against your skin as he holds you close. "I'm so lucky to have you."

You smile, your heart overflowing with love for the man who knows just how to make you feel alive. But your whole body thrums with need, your pussy throbbing with desire after his skilled tongue brought you to the brink of ecstasy, even as your mind reels from the intensity of your orgasm, the ache for his cock remains.

"Don’t forget you promised me something" you whisper.

"Tell me, darling," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. "Tell me what you want."

Your breath catches in your throat as you struggle to form words amidst the lingering haze of your orgasm.

"I need you inside me," you manage to gasp, your voice thick with need. "I need you to fuck me, Crosshair. Please."

No matter if it starts with him being the one who’s horny, he always manages to make you the one begging to be fucked.

“How do you want me?” he asks, his fingers trailing down between your dripping folds, pressing against your entrance, desperately aching for his attention.

You can barely form coherent thoughts with him teasing you like this.

“Just…ahhh…just fuck me…please…Cross, fill me up”

With a satisfied grin, he scoops you up from the cushions, his strength and desire obvious as he bends you over the terrace railing. Your heart races as he positions you, your naked body exposed and vulnerable to his every whim. Gripping the railing for support, you arch your back, presenting yourself to him in all your glory.

"Stars, this IS the best view in whole Pabu" Crosshair groans, his voice thick with desire as he quickly sheds his pants and lines himself up with your dripping core, his tip deliciously pressing against you and a sharp slap landing on one of your cheeks.

"So fucking perfect."

You let out a lewd moan, when he slowly slides into you. His big cock stretching you in all the right ways until he is fully sheathed. It’s a feeling you can never get enough of.

You arch into him, making sure you take him as deep as possible. It feels incredibly good to finally get what you wanted, to be so full of him, but he doesn't move. Instead, he teases you, his fingers finding your clit, pinching and rubbing it in just the right way to send shivers down your spine.

"Please, Cross," you beg, your voice thick with need. "Move... I need you to move." the ache between your legs growing more furious with each passing moment.

He grins, enjoying the desperation in your voice, but he doesn't relent just yet. Instead, he slaps your ass, the sound muted by the waves crushing beneath you.

"Stars, I love it when you're so needy," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he bends over you.

You whimper in response and finally, he begins to move, slow and deliberate at first, savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him. But as your pleas grow louder, more desperate, he picks up the pace, thrusting into you with increasing urgency.

Your body starts trembling as he thrusts into you with relentless force. Each powerful stroke sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, driving you closer to the edge with every movement.

Crosshair's hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as he pounds into you with primal need. "That's it, baby," he grunts, his voice ragged with lust. "Take me. Take all of me."

Your senses reel as pleasure consumes you, the rhythm of his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Your body responds eagerly, meeting his every stroke with unrestrained enthusiasm as you surrender yourself to him completely.

"Oh, fuck, Crosshair," you cry out, your voice a symphony of pleasure as he drives you to the brink once more. "I’m close, don’t stop."

He doesn't hesitate to comply, his thrusts becoming even more forceful as he drives you towards another mind-shattering orgasm. With each powerful stroke, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as you chase release.

And when it finally crashes over you, it's like a tidal wave of pleasure, washing over you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. But even as you come apart in his grip, Crosshair shows no signs of slowing down, mercilessly fucking you through your high.

“Cross… slow down, it….it’s too much.. please” you whimper, your voice barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin and the waves crash on the rocks beneath you.

But he's unrelenting, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you with a hunger that borders on desperation.

“No love, I want you to give me another one, I know you can do it” he growls, his words laced with desire as he continues to drive you toward another peak of pleasure.

With each powerful thrust, he pushes you closer to the edge, his hands roaming over your body as he praises you.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he grunts, his voice rough with lust. "You're doing so good for me."

His words send a thrill of excitement coursing through you, spurring you on to new heights of ecstasy.

He punctuates his praise with sharp slaps to your ass, the sting mingling with the pleasure to create a sensation that leaves you dizzy with desire.

"I know you like that…" he groans, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he continues to pound into you. "… my fucking beautiful wife, taking me so well."

You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as he drives you relentlessly toward another orgasm.

“Now come for me, I… I want to feel this beautiful pussy of yours…clenching around my cock”

He watches you with hungry eyes, his own release growing closer with each passing moment, his thrust becoming sloppy and his cock tightening up even more.

“Let me make you come undone," he urges, his voice a husky growl as he thrusts into, lifting your hips, slightly changing the angle to pound against your most sensitive spot.

With his encouragement, you let go, your body wracked with pleasure as you tumble over the edge once more. And when you come, when that tension in your core snaps, your mind goes completely blank and all sounds fade into the distance. This state of mind is something you only reached in your active days, mid battle, when you had to center yourself in the force and with him. If it’s possible to become one with the force, this is how it has to feel.

Crosshair follows you shortly after, his own climax ripping through him as he feels you clenching hard around his cock and he spills himself inside you, his orgasm mingling with yours in a symphony of passion. You collapse against the railing, spent, sated and panting, your mind blissfully blank as you bask in the last waves washing over you and the afterglow of your lovemaking begins to settle in. Luckily he is holding you steady against him, as your shaking legs begin failing to hold you up.

Together, you hear the waves crashing on the rocks below, the sound a soothing backdrop. In that moment, with Crosshair's arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel complete, your body humming with satisfaction as you revel in the pleasure of being thoroughly and completely ravished by the man you love.

His touch is tender as he lowers you back onto the cushions, your legs still unwilling to support your weight.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he disappears into the house but it doesn’t take long until he returns with a damp towel in his hands to clean you up.

He lowers himself back down on the cushions beside you, his fingers trailing gently over your skin.

“I love you so much” he murmurs looking at you, and you could loose yourself in his eyes, so full of love and adoration for you. He wasn’t good with expressing his feelings when you met but his eyes always told the truth.

“I love you too Cross” you say, cupping his jaw and pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Let me clean you up and get our breakfast over here,” he whispers with a satisfied grin.

With a loving care that fills your heart to the brim, he wipes away the traces of his cum that is leaking from your core and trailing down your legs, his touch soothing and intimate.

Once he's satisfied that you're clean and comfortable, he turns his attention to the abandoned food, gathering up the plates of fruit and pancakes and cups of caff that were left forgotten in the throes of passion, bringing them over to where you lay on the cushions. With a soft smile playing at his lips, he begins to feed you.

"Here, darling," he murmurs, his voice soft and affectionate as he offers you a piece of pancake. "Let me take care of you."

You accept his offering eagerly, too blissed out to eat by yourself, savoring the taste of the sweet syrup and fluffy pastry as Crosshair feeds you with a tenderness that takes your breath away. With each bite and sip, you feel the life coming back into your body and the warmth of his love enveloping you, wrapping you in a cocoon of blissful contentment.

As you eat, you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, the lingering effects of three mind shattering orgasms still thrumming through your veins. The terrace is bathed in sunlight, the gentle breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean as it rustles through the air. In this moment, with your husband by your side, you feel completely and utterly at peace.

Together, you eat and laugh and as the last of the pancakes disappear and the caff is drained from your cups, you lean into Crosshair's embrace, savoring the feeling of his arms around you. In the quiet intimacy of your terrace, you revel in the simple joy of being together, your hearts beating as one in perfect harmony.

With a content sigh, you rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. In this moment, surrounded by his love and warmth, you know that there's nowhere else you'd rather be than here, in the arms of the man who completes you in every way imaginable.

[iloveboysinred]

Life with Keith after the war [Domestic fluff hcs]

pg.13 fluff| Keith Kogane x gn reader

cw; fluff, domestic life, mentions of war

masterlist

-Okay so after the war against the Galra was won, you and Keith moved back to his house in the desert, opting to live a quiet life in isolation.

-it was peaceful and a stark contrast to the almost constant chaos of whirling around in space.

-you and Keith made some renovations to the home, fixing broken windows, re-storing the paint on the walls, and getting working appliances like a new fridge, a microwave and a bunch of new cups and plates.

-Mornings with him were your favorite, you always woke up before him, turning on some music and cooking breakfast for yourselves, watching the sun finish rising.

-he didn't wake up too long after you, your lack of warmth in bed basically forcing him to get up and look for you.

-He would find you in the kitchen, a cute apron that was much too long for you covering you from the mess of pancake batter all over the counter.

-"Morning Keith" "mmh morning baby. What's cooking?"

-he would come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his sleep laden eyes still not adjusted to the bright morning light shinning through the windows. He made a mental note to get curtains.

-He would hold onto your hips and sway side to side, following the beat of the music playing.

-you guys regularly visited Shiro, almost always taking home Tupperwares of food his husband would cook, never returning them back because Keith kept forgetting them.

-you guys had built a dog house outside for Kosmo, but he would just teleport right back inside, suddenly laying over you and Keith on the bed, wagging his tail like a puppy.

-You guys spent most of the day indoors, watching movies, talking about the future, loving on each other and trying to make up for all the times you couldn't be like this in space.

-Keith had become such a cuddle bug it was ridiculous, his hands were always wrapped around your waist, and he always had to be touching you, sub-consciously or on purpose.

-When you guys would sitting down at the dinning table, his hand would interlink with yours or rest on your thigh.

-you never went to bed before chit chatting about your day, exchanging I love yous and snuggling up under the covers.

-on the nights that you did stay up together, you and him would sit outside and stargaze, or stay in and watch scary movies with all types of sugary junk food, as if you guys were still teenagers.

-you regularly de-tangled and kept up with Keith's hair, it was so healthy and shiny.

-whenever Krolia visited you would all catch up, her sharing with you her earliest memories of baby Keith.

-he would blush and cross his arms, growing more and more embarrassed at every story. Your giggling not making it any better.

-after about a year and a half, Keith asked you to marry him. Much to Krolia's delight.

-you decided to have a small wedding, Keith not being the big flashy party type of man.

-You invited all the former paladins, as well as Ulaz and Krolia, everyone making sure to show up and celebrate your special day.

-you were over the moon once your vows were said and you were officially married, yanking Keith onto you and pressing a kiss to his lips, everyone cheering behind you and clapping.

-after the wedding, you guys laid in bed, just admiring each other, loving kisses exchanged between the both of you.

-from then on Keith just called you by your shared last name most of the time.

-"good morning, Mr/s Kogane"

-made it a point to let everyone know you were his spouse.

-he was such a sap, having multiple framed pictures of your wedding all over the house.

-Eventually the conversation of children came up, deciding when the time came you would adopt, wanting to give a child a family, just as Shiro did to Keith.

-Keith splurged as much as he could for the new addition to the family, buying clothes, food, toiletries, everything.

-he filled what used to be his room in the house with kid stuff.

-Shiro would frequently come over during this time, brining handbooks on parenting, offering useful advice on how to make the child feel at home and comfortable.

-When your new son came home you and Keith were over the moon, low-key freaking the little boy out with your enthusiasm.

-got a regular dog for him, scared Kosmo would teleport him to god knows where.

-it took a while, but he ended up warning up to you and Keith, you guys were a proper family.

-you and Keith grew old and grey.

-you would still hold hands on the porch, sitting side by side as the days would go by, but your love never ceased.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐔𝐛𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: a long awaited cross over that I promised months ago.. please do not hate me! Also, Danes = vikings, but the word viking is also a verb. So, you could say 'Hey Ma I'm off to go viking!'.

Saxons = those from England

Celts are an umbrella term for Native Britons who were here before the Saxons.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

It didn't make sense.

Ubbe's shoes walked the length of the boat and back again. Creaking wherever he put his feet, the wind was howling. Even during the day. With the sun high in the sky; not that he could see it.

None of the men or women could see more than five feet in front of them. Once he, along with two other ships left Kattegat, the mist had surrounded them.

Ubbe had the mind to turn back, but he couldn't see the shorline of Kattegat. Only the thick whirls of fog surrounding the boats.

What would have been a long journey, was shortened to mere seconds. And Ubbe was in a place he did not wish to be.

It was a place where his father had died. Where a many great Viking men had died.

But something was different. The time, Ubbe knew it; years had passed somehow. Many, many years. And when he took 4 men into a tavern to investigate, he asked and was told.

Ubbe and his men had gone through 100 years on the water.

・Life had gotten better since Uhtred and his men frequented your village - hell, everywhere had gotten better; not only were the raids less and less.

・But safety and hope were two words that Uhtred of Bebbanberg gave the people

・Well, Uhtred along with his three men - Finan, Sihtric & Osferth.

・You always had a crush on Finan. His Irish charm and humour always brightened your day.

・But he had never ventured for more than conversation and company

・You thought he must have an eye on someone else, but news never reached your ears about anyone else.

・And then something happened.

・Two ships full of Danes had washed on Englands' shores. It was not like any other raid. The Danes spoke differently, their weapons seemed old and the way they dressed was so ... incredibly different to the Danes you all knew

・Where did they come from? Why hadn't any other Dane claimed to know them? And why couldn't they point to where they were from on a map?

・These thoughts plagude you for days. You did your chores and you thought about it, you cooked and cleaned - and thought about it.

・However, curiosity won out and you snuck into the woods to get a better look at the semi-prisoners.

・One man caught your eye instantly.

・And he ...

・He was ... beautiful.

・Outlandishly so, you hadn't seen such a man and with so many unique tattoos...

・His hair was long and braided, parts shaved on the sides and you were taken aback.

・A blush creeping so bright you swore he would be able to see you in the dark - like a beacon of sorts

・But a body had bumped against your own, a hand over your mouth. You bit down - hard and Osferth hissed

"Ow!" He said, trying to keep his voice low as he flung his hand about in pain.

"Well don't do that!" You whispered incredulously.

"What are you staring at?" whispered Osferth, crouching down and following your line of sight.

"No-nothing, nothing, stop it-"

"Ooh got your eye on somethin' then?" he mocked.

・You rolled your eyes and pushed him. He caught your arm and hoisted himself up, catching you against him in the process.

・This back and forth behaviour was normal between you and Osferth. As soon as you met, it had started.

・He knows about your feelings for Finan, and has helped you to gain his attention time and time again

・The only failure in this was the fact that he didn't want to put you at risk. Finan couldn't bear to have you as some sort of target.

・But god did that change when Ubbe started talking to you.

・You decided to help around with the new Danes

・Your skills were highly renound and useful no matter who you were with

・Ubbe did everything he could to get your attention and soon Finan became a shell of his witty self.

・Grouchy and sensitive, Finan couldn't stop watching the two of you interract.

"I mean wha' does she see in 'im??"

"- Finan, please-" Uhtred interjected, trying to calm him down. He did not calm down.

"Just tell her how you feel-" Sihtric exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I - I cannot."

"You cannot what?" You said coming up behind him, the trees and darkness hiding you easily.

・From that day on you and Finan were together, but the subject of Ubbe hung loosely in the air.

・However, your relationship was changed because of Ubbe. Who shocked both you and Finan.

"It is true, I want you. But I want both of you. The funny one as well."

・Finan gulped.

・Your relationship is very loving. It truly is.

・There's a lot of PDA

・But even more affection when people aren't around

・Like casually sitting on each other's laps

・Forehead Touches

・The union between all three of you created something. It was peace.

・Peace settled over the group, a sense of ease becoming easier and easier to grasp.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Shut Up” (You) x “Make Me” (Ubbe) x “Just Kiss Already.” (Finan)

Found Family

Intuitive & Attentive (Finan) x Restless & Flirty (Ubbe) x Witty & Intuitive (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Intertwined Destinies

Love Transcending Boundaries

Legacy and Legend

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Scotland by the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra

Golden Years by David Bowie

To Bring You My Love by PJ Harvey

[kvetchlandia]

Thomas Hoepker Charles Bukowskim Los Angeles 1986

call it the greenhouse effect or whatever but it just doesn't rain like it used to. I particularly remember the rains of the depression era. there wasn't any money but there was plenty of rain. it wouldn't rain for just a night or a day, it would RAIN for 7 days and 7 nights and in Los Angeles the storm drains weren't built to carry off that much water and the rain came down THICK and MEAN and STEADY and you HEARD it banging against the roofs and into the ground waterfalls of it came down from roofs and there was HAIL big ROCKS OF ICE bombing exploding smashing into things and the rain just wouldn't STOP and all the roofs leaked- dishpans, cooking pots were placed all about; they dripped loudly and had to be emptied again and again. the rain came up over the street curbings, across the lawns, climbed up the steps and entered the houses. there were mops and bathroom towels, and the rain often came up through the toilets:bubbling, brown, crazy,whirling, and all the old cars stood in the streets, cars that had problems starting on a sunny day, and the jobless men stood looking out the windows at the old machines dying like living things out there. the jobless men, failures in a failing time were imprisoned in their houses with their wives and children and their pets. the pets refused to go out and left their waste in strange places. the jobless men went mad confined with their once beautiful wives. there were terrible arguments as notices of foreclosure fell into the mailbox. rain and hail, cans of beans, bread without butter;fried eggs, boiled eggs, poached eggs; peanut butter sandwiches, and an invisible chicken in every pot. my father, never a good man at best, beat my mother when it rained as I threw myself between them, the legs, the knees, the screams until they separated. "I'll kill you," I screamed at him. "You hit her again and I'll kill you!" "Get that son-of-a-bitching kid out of here!" "no, Henry, you stay with your mother!" all the households were under siege but I believe that ours held more terror than the average. and at night as we attempted to sleep the rains still came down and it was in bed in the dark watching the moon against the scarred window so bravely holding out most of the rain, I thought of Noah and the Ark and I thought, it has come again. we all thought that. and then, at once, it would stop. and it always seemed to stop around 5 or 6 a.m., peaceful then, but not an exact silence because things continued to drip drip drip

and there was no smog then and by 8 a.m. there was a blazing yellow sunlight, Van Gogh yellow- crazy, blinding! and then the roof drains relieved of the rush of water began to expand in the warmth: PANG!PANG!PANG! and everybody got up and looked outside and there were all the lawns still soaked greener than green will ever be and there were birds on the lawn CHIRPING like mad, they hadn't eaten decently for 7 days and 7 nights and they were weary of berries and they waited as the worms rose to the top, half drowned worms. the birds plucked them up and gobbled them down;there were blackbirds and sparrows. the blackbirds tried to drive the sparrows off but the sparrows, maddened with hunger, smaller and quicker, got their due. the men stood on their porches smoking cigarettes, now knowing they'd have to go out there to look for that job that probably wasn't there, to start that car that probably wouldn't start. and the once beautiful wives stood in their bathrooms combing their hair, applying makeup, trying to put their world back together again, trying to forget that awful sadness that gripped them, wondering what they could fix for breakfast. and on the radio we were told that school was now open. and soon there I was on the way to school, massive puddles in the street, the sun like a new world, my parents back in that house, I arrived at my classroom on time. Mrs. Sorenson greeted us with, "we won't have our usual recess, the grounds are too wet." "AW!" most of the boys went. "but we are going to do something special at recess," she went on, "and it will be fun!" well, we all wondered what that would be and the two hour wait seemed a long time as Mrs.Sorenson went about teaching her lessons. I looked at the little girls, they looked so pretty and clean and alert, they sat still and straight and their hair was beautiful in the California sunshine. the the recess bells rang and we all waited for the fun. then Mrs. Sorenson told us: "now, what we are going to do is we are going to tell each other what we did during the rainstorm! we'll begin in the front row and go right around! now, Michael, you're first!. . ." well, we all began to tell our stories, Michael began and it went on and on, and soon we realized that we were all lying, not exactly lying but mostly lying and some of the boys began to snicker and some of the girls began to give them dirty looks and Mrs.Sorenson said, "all right! I demand a modicum of silence here! I am interested in what you did during the rainstorm even if you aren't!" so we had to tell our stories and they were stories. one girl said that when the rainbow first came she saw God's face at the end of it. only she didn't say which end. one boy said he stuck his fishing pole out the window and caught a little fish and fed it to his cat. almost everybody told a lie. the truth was just too awful and embarrassing to tell. then the bell rang and recess was over. "thank you," said Mrs. Sorenson, "that was very nice. and tomorrow the grounds will be dry and we will put them to use again." most of the boys cheered and the little girls sat very straight and still, looking so pretty and clean and alert, their hair beautiful in a sunshine that the world might never see again. and

-- Charles Bukowski, "We Ain't Got No Money, Honey, But We Got Rain" 1990

[the-kr8tor]

ohhh also TTN!Hobie request if you’re up for it: R runs into him as Spider-Punk for the first time and decides to shamelessly flirt with him. Up to you if Hobie knows that R knows or not.

(i kinda took it as a hobie doesn’t really hide it from R but doesn’t say it either situation, but I might have misread it lol)

AHHH I LOVE THIS PROMPT SM! 😘 thank you, bestie!! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the Reader ( Hobie is mentioned taller than her though), CW canon typical violence, TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader, Fluff.

TTN oneshots Masterlist

Set before this fic, but could be read as a standalone.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The toddler squirms in Hobie's hold, crying and soaking his leather vest. Swinging quickly yet carefully, Spider-Man makes his way back towards the child's mother whilst avoiding the fire blasting from the apartment building. Flames lick at his back, soot covering his suit, turning it slightly grey. He can already imagine the look on your face once you see his vest looking like someone tried to cook it.

Landing gracefully on the sidewalk, the boy's mother weaves through the panicked crowd trying to get to her son. Hobie quickly hands the child in her arms and they reunite. The boy clings to his mother with a tight grip, still wailing from the fear shaking his tiny body.

"Thank you!" She says through tears in her eyes.

"Be good, little man" Hobie nods, sighing in relief, web aimed towards a skyscraper to swing to another incident he heard through one of the police car's radios.

Swinging into action, his eyes darted downwards towards the street. The crowd parts for a man running at full speed, dressed in a dark hoodie, clutching a handbag that's clearly not his. Hobie knits his brows when the robber pushes someone hard on the ground. Thankfully another person helped them up, seeing them unscathed, Hobie continued the chase.

Diving down, Hobie extends his long legs aiming directly towards the man's back. He lands face first on the pavement, knocked out and unconscious. Hobie hops off the criminal's back, picking up the fallen bag to give it back to the owner that's surely not far behind.

"Thank fuck!" A familiar voice heaves behind him. "Hell, give me a minute" trying to catch your breath, hands on your knees for a respite.

Hobie whirls around, the eyes of his mask as wide as dinner plates, now realizing why the handbag was so familiar. His tongue already forming your name, he stops himself from uttering it by biting his tongue.

You stand up straight, grin widening as you see your roomate saving the day once again. Albeit literally this time instead of finding your coat for you or fixing you breakfast before you wake.

Hobie doesn't know that you've figured out he's Spider-Man, you intend to keep it that way until he decides to tell you.

"Hi" you say breathlessly, eyes already roaming for injuries, only finding his suit covered in ash and in need of a repair, especially his vest. You ignore your ruined handiwork for now.

Hand reaching out for Hobie, you stop yourself from hugging him with the excuse of taking your bag back. You are in public after all.

"Thank you, Spider-Man" winking, you don't miss the opportunity to tease him and make the Spider-Man flustered.

Hobie rolls his eyes under the mask, but you know the movement all too well with how he slightly tilted his head. Coming to a stop in front of him, so close that the tips of your heels kiss his steel toed boots. His chest heaving up and down from the adrenaline. The spikes on his head glimmer in the sun as he moves his head to peek back at the robber, just in case he already woke up. But you know the truth, he has no idea how to act, hiding it from you and the crowd. He can't reciprocate without compromising your relationship and risk letting his secret out before he could tell you. So he has no choice but to take it. You absolutely know this but of course you won't go too far.

You tilt your head as cute as you can, eyelashes batting at him, lips curling into a mischievous smile. Hobie's hand twitches briefly and instinctively trying to reach for yours. The crowd looks on, thinking another fan is trying to flirt with their resident friendly neighborhood spidey.

Slowly and painfully reaching towards his hand, you slide it down at the last minute, pinky only grazing his glove, but enough to make electricity appear on his skin. You take your bag back, the handle still being held by Hobie, in some sort of pseudo hand holding, you both hold onto it, still looking at him teasingly. You can only imagine his face underneath, oh you'll give anything just to see it right now.

"How can I ever thank you?" You say sweetly, the same voice you use when you two are alone at home.

If the circumstances were different he would've said 'I can think of a way' instead, he grunts in reply, making you snort in return. Hobie refrains from talking, if he talks you'll identify his voice in a heartbeat even if he tries to mask it by making it a pitch higher, he's sure you'll know it's him.

Standing on your tiptoes, you stabilize yourself with your hand over his chest, you can feel his heartbeat slowing down underneath. You smile, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek.

"There, a proper thank you" your breath fans his clothed cheek. A way for you to show him you support him being Spider-Man. Hobie would feel a twinge of jealousy if it was another bloke's cheek on your lips right now but him and Spider-Man are one and the same. He stops himself from leaning into your lips.

Hobie's stomach is in knots, his gut telling him you know about his secret. He lets go of your purse, palm cupping your elbow in an attempt to give you his own affection, albeit a small action compared to the usual.

Pulling away, you smile fondly at him, a secret shared between you. Hobie decides there and then to reveal to you his other identity when he gets home. You deserve to know, he loves you too much to keep that part of his life hidden from you.

Hobie watches you walk away, reminiscent of you in the airport just before you moved away. You chose not to look back that time, because if you did, you would've stayed.

This time, you look over your shoulder, waving with a smile. Not a goodbye like last time. A promise you'd see him at home.

[violetsandfluff]

You Flower, You Feast 🌻

concept from @pancakerry: harry coming home to y/n making dinner !! very domestic blurb:)

word count: about 600

a/n: i actually love this lol

“Pretty woman,” Harry hummed, sidling up beside you at the stove. He placed a hand on each of your hips as he peered over your shoulder into the pot you were stirring.

“Harry,” you chided teasingly before whirling around, spoon in hand, still dripping with scalding hot chicken broth. “You know the rules. No peeking when I’m the cook.”

Harry shook his head incredulously, stepping back and holding his hands out as a sign of resignation. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Cut up some strawberries,” you instructed, gesturing to the counter where they sat on a damp paper towel. “They’re already clean.”

Harry nodded, barely listening to the words rolling out of your mouth. He was preoccupied with taking you in. He admired the sparkle in your eye as you scolded him for peeking at the soup, the daisy tucked behind your ear and forgotten about, and the outfit you were wearing. It was nothing too revealing, but he could tell how comfortable and confident you were wearing it.

“Harry. The strawberries?” she called over her shoulder when she turned back to the soup, sprinkling some homegrown herbs into it for flavor.

“The strawberries?” he mumbled numbly, trying to remember what you had asked him to do with them. He scooped them into his hands and brought them over to the sink, emptying them into a pasta strainer and running them under a stream of cool water.

“I told you they were already clean, Haz,” you explained in exasperation.

“Oh,” he said slowly, grabbing a second paper towel to dry them in. “What do you want me to do once I cut them?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you chuckled to yourself. “Now seriously. Earth to Sous Chef Styles? Cut up the strawberries, please and thank you.”

Harry used his minimal knife skills to cut the strawberries into small, disfigured hearts. He transferred them into a small, milky glass bowl and handed them to you.

“All of the hearts to the love of my life,” he said proudly, and you chuckled to yourself as you tried to decipher the shapes of the berries.

“Go make yourself useful setting the table,” you giggled, handing your husband a handful of silverware and napkins.

As he left, you uncovered the muffin tin that was hidden on the counter beneath a loaf of bread. You decorated each cupcake with a dollop of whipped cream and a few strawberry “hearts” before covering the pan back up and hiding it before Harry turned around.

You scooped the steaming soup into two bowls and carried them carefully to the kitchen table opposite the stove, setting them on the hay-colored tablecloth between the antique silverware and chipped coffee mugs, both of which held red wine.

“Are these flowers from the garden?” Harry asked, fingering a pink rose petal. “All of the rain has been really good for them.” He picked up his chair and soup and repositioned himself beside you so he could see out the west window where the sky was ablaze with fiery orange clouds. A cool breeze drifted in, stirring the flowers and your hair.

The steaming soup was enjoyed alongside steamy kisses and buttery rolls as the sun set. Harry’s hand enveloped yours as you ate, and he fingered the pearl on your ring finger beneath the table as if it were some precious secret.

~~~

taglist: @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @hsdaydreaminghaze @madeintheniamh @daisyharry

[tragedybunny]

Fangs and Fairytales - Chapter 1

༺Summary༻

The Netherbrain has fallen and Baldur's Gate has been saved. Astarion and Serafina begin their life together in that very moment. Together they journey to find a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again. There's no shortage of adversity along the path, including Serafina's own warlock patron, Queen Titania. But together they can face it all and find their own sort of happily ever after.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Rating༻ Mature

༺Warnings༻ Angst

༺Word Count༻ 2711

༺A/N༻ Many many thanks to @icybluepenguinicybluepenguin for being my friend, my beta, and my cheerleader. And Sera's biggest fan! And thanks to everyone from my server for always being there for me. I finally dove in and started a proper post-game long fic, I hope you enjoy it!

Read on AO3 All chapter here on Tumblr

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” The anguish in Astarion’s voice stole Serafina’s breath away, and without hesitation, she turned to follow where he was running. 

She didn't get one step away before there was another distressed cry from Karlach behind her. Whirling around, she found her friend, wreathed in infernal flames, barely hanging on. “Engines finally cooked, held on just long enough.”

Her heart wanted to follow Astarion badly - he was so afraid that when the moment had come, she’d leave him. But Astarion was clever and tough, he’d survive the sun and they’d find each other. Karlach on the other hand, Karlach was dying. 

Karlach gave her a brilliant smile, and Sera kept a sob from her throat. She couldn’t let her do this, just give up and die.

But her words ran dry as her thoughts were pulled again and again to Astarion. It's Wyll whose voice breaks through to Karlach, and Sera knew she’d be forever grateful to him.

His eyes were bright with affection as he held out a hand to Karlach. “Live on with the Blade of Avernus at your side.”

It's not what Karlach had wanted, but as long as she lives, there's hope. And at the very least she and Wyll would be together, their peculiar love story's ending not quite written. 

With their bittersweet departure, Sera's thoughts turned to her own love, another story she hoped wasn’t over.

Her legs wanted to give out, exhaustion weighing on her as adrenaline faded from her body. Still, she willed herself to stand, to take one more deep breath. Astarion. 

He needed her, maybe more than ever.  Any fleeting hope the tadpole's effects would be permanent had just been violently ripped away from him. Her eyes swept over her remaining companions, Lae’zel had gone to liberate her people from Vlaakith, now with Wyll and Karlach gone, there were so few of them left. “I-I have to go find him,” her voice caught, making her feel small. “I'll see you at the Elfsong.” 

“Go, we'll see what we can help the city with.” Shadowheart put a gentle hand on her shoulder and whispered a soft word. 

The pain in her body ceased and nerves and muscles thrummed with reinvigoration. The last of Shadowheart’s magic, most likely. “Thank you.” Sera pulled her into a quick hug, mindful of threatening tears, before starting on the path across the docks Astarion had taken. 

Eyes searching desperately in every shadow, she prayed to any god that would listen that he had just stopped to take shelter, just waited for her, trusted she would come. Every empty spot of shelter dashed those hopes.

The merciless sun continued to rise, evaporating any lingering pockets of dark. “Astarion!” she finally shouted desperately, hearing only silence in return. 

He was gone. 

Just as she turned to head back to the others, to return to the Elfsong and hope he followed, something caught the toe of her boot with metallic scraping. An open sewer cover. 

The stench of a city's worth of waste wafted over her, making her stomach heave and dredging up memories of the journey to Bhaal's temple. And in her chest, her heart ached. A sewer would be one of the last places he'd want to go. 

For a second she hesitated, maybe she should go back and at least bring one of the others. They were exhausted, though, and that would eat up precious time, time that was taking Astarion farther away from her. Resolving to face whatever waited below, she started down the rickety ladder to the waiting muck. 

Her feet hit the ground with a splash, and fetid liquid spattered up her legs. There was one path ahead leading toward the city from the dock, a murky tide flowing from it toward the sea. 

“Fiat Lux.” Four bright orbs surrounded her, lighting the gloom as she started to follow the tunnel at a brisk pace. 

“Astarion!” she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls, but not drawing out any answer. 

Hells, how had he gotten so far ahead of her? 

Desperately, she wanted to move faster, to go from jog to flat out run, but she knew she’d wear out far too quickly. As it was, her lungs already protested the exertion after everything else today. She settled for calling his name another time and blinking away the tears at the silence after. 

The tunnel came to an intersection, and the rest of the city’s sewer system sprawled out beyond it. Footprints in the muck ahead of hers looked fresh enough and seemed Astarion’s size. Tracking wasn’t her expertise but it seemed the best shot she had. They headed toward a tunnel running off to the east. Maybe he was headed back toward the Elfsong after all, just through the safety of the sewers.

The hope would have to be enough, she told herself, as she followed the tracks. The orbs of light gently revolved around her, still lighting her way. “Astarion please, stop if you can hear me!” 

Of course he didn’t answer. 

At first, it felt like fate or something was on her side, as the wet muck alternating with stone made just enough tracks for some vague trail to follow. And they kept heading east, exactly where she wanted him heading. 

Her legs ached and the foul air burned her nose, but still, hope led her on. She’d prefer to catch up to him, but if he made it back to the inn safe, she’d settle for that. Another junction lay ahead, two sets of pipes, one on top of the other, poured water into the room from the north. A questionable rope netting served as the access to a platform that would lead to the top of the pipe to the north, and another small walkway led further east. 

Sera was about to follow it when she stopped short noting the wet footprint headed towards the north. That was… not what she had expected. If she was following Astarion, she had no idea where he was headed, and if she wasn’t following him, she’d probably just wasted a massive amount of time. 

The exhaustion began to creep in as she stood still, taking in the setback. Which chance to take? Hope or tenuous evidence? Why didn’t he just wait for her! Her gloved hand came up to flick away the wetness rolling down her cheek. All she had wanted was to go back to the inn, if it still stood, and hold onto him, to let the horror of the day fade away into an indistinct background noise for just a few hours. But here she was trying to chase him down through a fucking sewer. 

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. And she was wasting time again, with no more idea which way to go than before. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two possibilities, despair beginning to wrap itself around her like the grasping vines Arabella had learned to conjure, until it was beaten back by a sudden, new hope. 

She may not be able to tell where Astarion had gone, but there was someone who could. Her hand came to rest over her chest, where just beneath her armor lay the token that Titania had given her when their pact was made; a diamond-shaped white pendant with the inlay of a blue star. 

“Titania, your Highness…” She tried for deference and eloquence to persuade the Fey Queen - who held no love for a vampire spawn she saw as an obstacle - but her thoughts were as ragged as her emotions. “Please,” was all she could manage. 

“My child, you really will chase that spawn to the ends of Faerûn, won’t you?” 

“I…”“I know, you love him.” Titania didn’t sound angry as much as, resigned. “Given the events of the day, I shall be merciful. Astarion did fulfill his word to be at your side through the battle. So I will give you a clue to where your beloved has gone.” 

Fey always had to make things into a riddle or game, but Sera held back her frustration. If she offended Titania she was likely to get nothing. 

“Where do any vermin go when threatened?” There was a pause as Sera's mind tried to decipher her words. “Back to the nest.” 

Sera steadied herself as Titania’s words made her world unsteady. “Oh gods, why would he do that.”

There was no response, the presence of the Fey Queen had gone.. She had her answer though; he was headed north, straight back into hell. 

Standing straight and drawing in a breath, she headed for the rope net. She had to get to him, she couldn’t leave him alone in that place. And staying in the sewer was probably still easier than going through the wreck of the city. 

By the time she reached the sewer entrance where once they’d found a girl who’d been lured there for a “party”, the effects of Shadowheart’s magic were gone, and her chest heaved as though lead weighed it down. They had left the way open, a failsafe should the other spawn need to leave quickly. It wasn’t necessary, as it turned out that part of the massive structure beneath Szarr manor was an entrance to the Underdark. Astarion had received a note one night from Dalyria that spoke of what they found and that they would be leaving as quickly as possible, before any of them could get out into the city and lose control. The letter had asked Astarion to come visit before they left, but he’d obstinately refused. 

“I have no desire to see the inside of that place again. And it is not like we’re real family.”

Sera had bit her tongue, it wasn’t as though they didn’t have enough to worry about, and she was sure that a colony of vampires would not be that hard to find if they wished to later. 

Beyond the sewer entrance, the air of the defiled space where Cazador once planned his greatest triumph was cool with the faintest hint of mustiness. No one had bothered to scrub the floor of the bastard’s blood, leaving it to turn a rotten brownish hue. The body had been burned, Leon hadn’t wanted to take chances. Another tidbit from Dalyria’s note.

Sera found her way up the stairs, past the cells, and to the elevator easily enough. The place was burned into her memory, truthfully, the place where the one she loved had suffered so; the place where she had almost lost him. 

The elevator rose to the surface with a metallic whine and Sera ascended into Cazador’s office, unsurprised that she hadn’t managed to catch him. The wet prints on the tacky carpet meant she was close. 

“Just a little further,” she whispered aloud, pushing onwards. 

From Cazador’s office, she moved on to the ballroom; again someone had moved the bodies but hadn't cleaned the ichor of the fight that had taken place.

A pack of werewolves had been an unexpected addition to their foes. But Astarion’s reaction had been almost more unexpected; the indignation at their presence, referring to it as his home. She would have thought he wouldn't want any association with the place. But then again, it was all he had known for two hundred years. 

And now he'd been forced to come running back. 

She turned from the ballroom and the memory of that fraught day. The rest of the house was just as she remembered as she jogged through halls, bracing herself as she approached the kennels. Just the thought of them… What they had done to Cazador hadn't been nearly satisfying enough. 

“Come out of there!” From up ahead, through a door that had been left hanging open, a sign of the manor’s abandonment, a familiar voice startled her into a momentary standstill. But recognition soon spurred her on again.

Quickening her steps, she found Dalyria pounding on the door to the spawn dormitories. Her heart sank, she already knew who she was shouting for. 

Taking slow, deliberate steps towards her, she crept most of the way down the hall before calling out softly, “Dalyria.” It wasn't wise to startle a vampire, even an ostensibly friendly one.  

Crimson eyes, both alike and unlike the ones she knew so well turned toward her, narrowed in suspicion, as Dalyria crouched into a defensive stance. 

The two women stared at each other for a moment, Sera suddenly less confident that Dalyria wasn’t about to pounce on her. But then her expression softened with recognition and her body relaxed. Briefly, Sera wondered why she was still here when all the other spawn had moved on. A question for later, there wasn’t time now. 

“You! By the gods, I was worried something had happened to you. Please, come reason with him.” 

As Sera approached, hope and dread both warring inside her, Dalyria turned her attention back to the door, raising her voice. “Brother, please-”

“I AM NOT YOUR BROTHER DAL AND Y-.” 

The ferocity of his words stunned her, like a wild, dangerous thing, cornered and lashing out.

“Astarion!” Sera shouted loud enough to shock him out of whatever tirade he was planning.  

Silence hung heavy in the air for what seemed like forever. And for the first time, she doubted. What if he didn’t want to be found? What if he was intent on running from her? 

“Please,” she reached out, resting her hand on the closed door, hoping that he wasn’t lost in himself, “open the door.” 

She held her breath until the metallic click of the lock filled the quiet. Dalyria silently nodded, her expression grateful, before withdrawing to give them space. Perhaps she was afraid her continued presence would only agitate Astarion further. 

Heart heavy, Sera pushed the door open, to find Astarion sitting on the edge of a bed in the last place he’d ever wanted to go again. His armor was still spattered with gore from the final fight, and he was slumped over, head in his hands, burned flesh still visible enough to make her want to weep for him, even as she knew his vampiric regeneration would heal it soon enough. 

“I didn't know where else to go,” he answered her unspoken question. 

“Love.” She started towards him, but he put up a hand. 

“Don’t,” he warded her away, voice cracking with threatening tears. “Don’t pretend everything is fine. Don’t lie to me, now that you’ve seen everything.”

Astarion was right, things would most assuredly not be the same now. But that was often the case in life. “I won’t then.” She took a hesitant step closer to him. “Things are going to change.” 

At those words he looked up at her, putting the full extent of the sun’s work on display, and sniffled miserably. “I knew it.”

She gestured to the bed beside him. “May I?” 

He answered with a shrug, having turned his eyes back to the floor.

Delicately, Sera lowered herself into the bunk next to him, the elven chainmail she'd acquired as comfortable as it always seemed to be. She yearned to reach out and take him in her arms, to comfort him. It wasn’t quite the time yet. 

“As I was saying, you're right, things can't stay the same.” Beside her, she felt him tense. “Living at night is going to be an adjustment, I'm sure. It may take me a while. And we'll have to find ways to make sure you're always safe.”

“You don't-”

“I told you on the roof that day, I'm not going anywhere.”

Now. She reached out, and, careful to avoid his burns, pulled him into her arms. 

“It won't always be easy, I know that. But I'm not giving up.”

There was a time when he would have argued with her, told her she was wrong and this wouldn't work. Instead, he leaned his weight against her and drew a breath he didn't need. “Promise?”

“Always. Now do you feel up to getting out of this awful place or should we wait?” 

“I-I think I need a little time.”

She gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Take all the time you need. I'll be right here.” 

Tag list: @writingmysanity @snowfolly @sunfire-ancunin @vixstarria

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[gatabella]

"One evening, as I was waiting for someone at the Beverly Wilshire, the most radiant apparition emerged from the elevator. Covered with gold and topaz like some Byzantine idol, hair floating on royal shoulders, Maria Montez crossed the lobby and disappeared into the street. How beautiful she was! As soon as I could get friends to introduce us, I invited her to dinner. In those days she was the queen of technicolor enchantment, having just achieved success in those innocent and outlandish screen epics Arabian Nights and Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. Knowing these films, I’d expected the same studied languor which she displayed on screen. Instead, I found her spontaneous, direct, and childlike, warbling the tale of her nomadic life in an adorable Spanish accent: Born in Santo Domingo, where her father was consul general of Spain, brought up in a convent in the Canaries, married for eighteen days to an Irishman who was naive enough to think he could lock her up in some frosty castle. Then Maria had whirled through London, New York, and San Francisco like a cyclone before settling in Hollywood, where her beauty and personality soon made her one of the most popular new stars. To say that between us it was love at first sight would be an understatement. From that day on, I spent every evening at her place. It was a strange house. You didn’t answer the telephone or read the mail; the doors were always open. Diamonds were left around in ashtrays. Lives of the Saints lay between two issues of movie magazines. An astrologer, a physical culture expert, a priest, a Chinese cook, and two Hungarian masseurs were part of the furnishings. During her massage sessions Maria granted audiences."

-Jean-Pierre Aumont, Sun and Shadow, autobio (1977)

[madhattervanessa]

Kill You To Try (Chapter 3)

-

Summary: Weeks go by and eventually, the numbness of grief forces you back to the ranch. You're caught between two chairs.

Warnings: self harm-ish things, isolation

Words: 2109

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A/N: So sorry for the late chapter guys, I'm currently struggling with a uni project that got completely dismissed by my prof and some other life stuff - I might edit this chapter a little next week but I didn't want to leave you guys without anything :)

-

You must have fallen asleep,... again. The porch chair, despite its rotten-looking wood, offers a charming comfort. That, combined with the look out towards the water providing just enough ambient sounds, has continuously proven to make you drift off. 

It's not like you could actively remember the past few weeks.

The dust you had whirled up into the air more than a week ago now has settled again, nestling into the crooks of the wood and the dried lavender you had hung above the window of the kitchen. It had been a measly attempt at smoothing out the musky scent of the settling wood beams and the peaty soil underneath. 

Now that you've grown accustomed to it... the days are flying by. 

Mainly because you keep staring into the water, dozing off, and thinking about where it had all gone wrong. How you ended up here.

The faint gurgle of the water, the occasional hiccup and splash of the gentle stream kissing the mossy, slick stones brings you back and makes you open your eyes again. There's the faint chill biting on your cheeks, a testament to how much time you'd spent on the porch already.

Maybe you should leave the blanket inside when you come out in the morning.

You twist the artfully woven fabric mindlessly in your fingers, back and forth. The loose lint gets scraggly underneath the pressure, the fine fabric strings hooking into each other and balling up.

You frown at it, thinking about the few words you had managed to string together on your laptop since you had moved into the cabin.

A splash makes you look up from your musing. A lazy drift of your eyes, more like, still without coffee and food because the food you got from Gabriel every now and then had run out by now.

Your eyes wander over the river until you spot a brown bear.

Just barely in the first few gleams of the sun, it trudges deeper into the water, uncaring of your presence on the other side of the river.

You should probably take up cooking again.

Give yourself something to do; maybe you should cook something for Gabriel, at least once, in return.

A fish from the stream, perhaps.

You squint against the bright light, the reflections on the water, and find the bear, quite unsuccessfully, snapping at fish swimming past.

It has been a week since you've been down at the ranch.

Your fingers are itching for something to do.

Then again, meeting the judging, worried look from the Senior of the Dutton family has started to lose its appeal. It makes your skin crawl to see the gruff man level such a soft, understanding look at you without much prompting.

-

"Hey, sunshine."

"Hey yourself- you busy?" You set your tote bag with the empty Tupperware down at your usual spot at the kitchen island before glancing at Gabriel. He is chopping away at something, diligently working, even as you lean against the kitchen counter next to him. You watch his arm move, the way he fills the shirt up that he had chosen for today.

"A little. Working on supper preparations." He briefly turns and flashes a charming smile before he continues chopping some zucchini. "How was your week away from the ranch?"

"Insightful. I brought you something for all that food you made me. Just... a favor in return for a favor."

Perfectly cubed pieces of vegetable join the others in the big bowl next to him and you watch as he puts down the knife. When he dries his washed hands on the towel slung over his shoulder, he finally meets your eyes again. 

"That's awfully nice."

"I would have bought you a bottle of something good to drink but I don't really know what you like."

He chuckles with a slight nod before he risks a look towards the kitchen island where you have deposited the filled box.

"What's in it?"

"Special dinner. Didn't have time to make dessert, otherwise, I would have made you some of my homemade cinnamon buns."

"Mh, I've heard good things about those."

"Oh, is that so?"

You nudge him with your elbow before looking over the kitchen countertop more closely - the bowl is a rainbow of colors and you see a box of steak, deep in the mix of paprika orange and streaks of muted greens, a marinade that already looks promising. It's like you can smell the colors.

"Well, maybe we can make those together sometime soon, then." He nudges you back and you chuckle before hopping off the counter again.

"Yeah right. Every cook I know despises baking."

"Yeah because it's like chemistry-"

"-like chemistry", you say at the same time. You grin wolfishly before knocking on the countertop wood, twice.

"Well, I better go out to the barn. Check on the horses."

"Want me to walk you over?"

"What, do you think a wolf will get me?"

"Nah. I just... I could use the fresh air."

"Uhm, sure."

He throws a towel over the cubed veggies.

You don't say much when he follows you outside.

What are you even doing?

"Hardly noticed how nice the weather is today", Gabriel mutters, scratching his beard as you approach the barn. You hum and look out towards the mountains.

"Maybe you need to get out more often."

"Hey, I do get out." He smiles, despite the admonishment. You give him an unbelieving look.

"Yeah, right, Gator", you huff and turn into the barn. He stops right at the border of the first concrete tile and leans up against the wooden door.

"Well if you don't believe me, I'll just have to prove it. You free this weekend?"

You're mute.

What?

He is still staring at you, waiting for an answer, unabashedly waiting out the awkward silence.

"I uhh- I'll have to look into my calendar, I guess."

"When you do, you know where to find me."

You're left with no further explanation, your eyes following Gabriel until he is back at the lodge.

-

You don't know if you want to answer him, today, though. 

You frown and hold your breath as you push your hand deeper into the cow - it lows as you do and you shush it as you carefully press further.

"You look beautiful today, Bones!"

You glare at the young farmhand calling out to you and manage to raise your middle finger at him.

"Aren't those boys happy about summer starting", you grumble. You finally manage to feel the organ you had been looking for. John chuckles, leveling an amused look at the guys working the herd in the other gutter.

"You know how they get."

"Wish they'd get more useful, sometimes", you mutter, still busy mapping out the reproductive system of the cow.

John hums, still leaning onto the metal cage the cow is fixated in, leaving you just enough room so you don’t feel uncomfortable but always close enough to peer over your shoulder.

“So, what’s going on?”

You draw your arm back after another minute with a short murmur to the cow.

“There’s some abnormalities around the ovaries and uterus. I’m going to suggest we keep her in while I do some tests. But most likely she’s going to be useless for breeding, John”, you sigh as you tug your plastic glove off. He notes it down in his notebook, nodding slightly.

You throw your dirty glove into your bucket and move over to the side to draw some blood from the neck of the cow where Rip is standing.

He smiles at you as you take a short moment to pat the cow’s neck.

“Rip!”

His head whips up towards John’s voice, his legs already in motion. He pats your shoulder as he passes you. As you rummage for a needle in your case, you catch him looking at you while he listens to John.

A cheeky smile briefly breaks his serious grimace before he turns away from you again.

You busy yourself withdrawing some blood from the cow's neck, carefully filling up a few more vials that you stash in the cooled box next to your case.

"Alright," you call out as you straighten up, your eyes on the boys in the back. ", send me the next one in, guys! We still have two more left!"

You straighten your head and use your bandana to wipe off some sweat that had built on your forehead and neck.

It takes a few more hours to finish your work, carefully checking over all of the cows that would be used for breeding this year before you do the actual dirty work the next week.

“Got everything?”

You look up from your cooled box of blood vials, your pen hovering over your notebook pages with the cattle numbers. Rip has your travel mug in hand, the light clinking of the metal immediately giving away the contents.

"Well, now I do. When did you have time to make me an iced coffee?”

“Who said I made it”, he just retorts, pushing the cool container into your free hand. You squint at him before taking a sip and noting the last few comments down before you shut the book.

“Well I know damn well that nobody would willingly put oat milk in coffee in this part of the country”, you murmur- you chance a look towards the Dutton house and feel your cheeks flush as you see Gabriel leaning over the sill to wave at you.

Oh. So that’s where the coffee had come from.

You wave back and take another sip before you look back at Rip.

He’s looking out towards the ranch, checking on god knows what- maybe the farmhand busy doing the dirty work of the day.

“Do you need any help moving your stuff up?”

“The blood vial case is a bit heavy but I’ll be fine. After all, that is going on Milton’s back, not mine.” 

“Just askin’. I'm going into town to get groceries. Want to come along?"

"Oh- I am-" you stop and frown. "No, actually, I could use some groceries, now that you mention it."

"I'll pick you up at the cabin, later, then."

"That would be great, thanks, Rip." You lean your head against his shoulder for a brief moment before looking up at him. He is already looking at you - it makes you squirm, that look.

"I'll come pick you up in an hour."

You don't think you've ever seen Rip without at least two pieces of clothing that identify him as a cowboy: It's always a hat, the boots, the belt, and maybe one of the Dutton logos on his shirts.

"Alright."

-

You grin to yourself as you watch a younger man glancing at Rip nervously from the produce aisle. 

You gently squeeze the tomato in your hand before grabbing a few to put in your cart. Rip is frowning at some cucumbers next to you. 

"Stop frowning like that, you're scaring every teenager in the vicinity", you mutter and nudge him before picking one of the cucumbers for yourself.

"Just thinking."

"You want to talk about it?"

"It's nothing important, doll." 

You bite your lip instead of disagreeing. Instead, you focus on picking out some more produce, the faint 2000s summer playlist playing in the background. The AC is already blasting even though summer has barely started - you're almost freezing in your thinned-out sweatshirt. It's blissfully empty around this time in the grocery store- well, as empty as these giant stores can get.

Rip eventually catches up to you in the fruit juice aisle where you swear your teeth are chattering.

"I shouldn't buy this much- I can barely get all of this up to the cabin."

"I'll drive you back, you know that, right?"

He's close. Hovering. You two haven't been this close in months.

You miss the comfort of his hugs.

It's the only thing you can think about as you stare into the overfilled shelf.

"Pick some up so we can have those fancy little cocktails you like to make. Don't play shy about it."

"So what you're saying is you want me to make some cocktails again because you have been missing having those fancy fruity little drinks with me."

He doesn't say anything, just leans so close you can feel the warmth of his breath.

"If you tell on me, I'll tell the greenhorn you have a crush on him."

"Ohhh, I'm shaking in fear."

"Knew it wasn't just the cold."

Rip leans back again and you smile as you pick out a few juice bottles, despite the chill. 

He forces you to take his jacket when you get into the truck again and drives the two of you home.

You spend the next two days hugging yourself, wound up in it as you let your feet dangle into the cool water of the stream.

You do it until you feel your toes go numb. After going inside and warming them up, you do it again, your eyes steadily on the rush and splash of the water, the reflections playing with the lights.

The groceries stay untouched.

-

Taglist: @graniairish

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[veryace-ficrecs]

Zosan Outsider POV Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

We're Going to Be Friends by Harubo - Rated T

“What are you smiling about?” Nami asked, eyes narrowing.

“You will lend me money,” Zoro laughed, “And you'll help me pick out a nice tie for curly too.”

“Are you insane?  Why would I do that?” she hissed.

“Because we’re friends,” he said, practically giggling, “And you’re rooting for me.”

Slow Dance by Harubo - Rated G

Law observes different dance styles. Always the same two partners. --- So this is joy, Law thought, as he watched them sway. This is what happens when a wildfire meets a hurricane. Negated forces finding peace in each other’s holds in tiny moments like these, before whirling to continue dealing out their destruction.

Panthera by Hazel_Athena - Rated T

“Now,” the man says, tucking a few strands of long, blond hair behind one ear before he turns to glance at their cowering trio. The motion serves to thoroughly hide his right eye from view, but does nothing to cover the strangely curled eyebrow located above his left. “What’s all this then?”

Steady Path by 8ball - Rated T

“I don't know how to be something of that worth.” Sanji whispered. You who have traveled this sea and seen its enormity and been humbled. Jinbe thought of the Sun Pirates and the brands on their skin, replacing injustice with purpose, anger with compassion. You who gives and does not take. He wanted to cry.

Zoro's Boyfriend, Who Lives In Canada by donutsandcoffee - Rated G

Everyone knows Zoro has the perfect boyfriend—tall, blonde, and handsome. He cooks Zoro’s bento every day, fights as well as Zoro does, and has the clearest, bluest eyes mankind has ever seen. Everyone also knows this “boyfriend” doesn’t actually exist.

Prison Blues by donutsandcoffee - Rated T

Zoro gets lost, Sanji gets captured by the marines, the Strawhats break into the ship's prison, and they all escape with a bang. Not exactly in that order, much to the confusion of Sanji's cellmates.

i guess that's love by panfriedstar - Rated G

Chopper doesn’t understand the mating rituals of humans. He has read about every other animal’s and even the most complicated ones are simpler than whatever Zoro and Sanji are doing.

[sardonic-the-writer]

VALENTINES DAY WITH ERIK AND CHARLES <3

• Valentines day with the boys is quite, for lack of better words, a mess

• Erik believes himself above the holiday and its practices while Charles relishes it, more often than not laughing lightly while telling Erik to lighten up

• The first thing either of you wake up to in your shared bed is Charles burying a smile in the crook of—namely your—neck, whispering a light good morning that tickled your skin

• Charles see's today as a day where he can get away with spoiling you and Erik with his love. Something he doesn't even attempt to hide on the regular anyways, if only for the sake of any students that may be passing by

• The telepath takes over what is normally Erik's roll of cooking breakfast (often aided by the latters ability to control metal while whirling pots and pans around to cook) and opts for some simple pancakes. Which of course he has to keep out of sight of the other students and Pietro, fearing they may be gone before either three of you had the chance to taste them

• "Eat up darling."

• "Charles, you are aware that these pancakes appear to be burnt around the edges?"

• "Yes. I'm just as aware of that as the glass of whiskey in your hand at nearly nine in the morning as well. So I suggest you eat tbe food before I have (Y/n) take it from you."

• Later on throughout the day, much later than breakfast for sure, if there's time between classes and breaking up couples that seemed to be attempting to suck each other faces off in the hallways, Charles will take you for a walk to his favorite tree. Simply sitting under the shade and talking about anything that comes to mind

• "While this has been rather fun, I'm a bit curious how we got from the topic of what you're having for lunch to the amount of cyanide in an apple seed (Y/n)."

• "Erik taught me a couple fun facts the other day!"

• "Oh course he did."

• It doesn't happen until the very end of the day when the sun has gone down and dorm lights are being turned off when Erik finally decides to play nice

• He ends up gifting both you and Charles with a promise ring he made himself via his powers, a matching one already resting along a finger of his own

• The day was perfect overall, and ended up with you all sleeping peacefully next to each other like always

[raindroppoetry]

Stars Above Home (Dion Lesage/Joshua Rosfield)

I knew you the moment that I saw you

Joshua and Dion met as children, their connection ignited by an immediate spark. Both the future rulers of their nations, they can only love each other in secret, stealing away fleeting moments in each other’s arms.

One day Joshua receives a stolas from Dion urging him to come meet him in their Hideaway. Yet when Joshua arrives he finds only an empty cabin.

Back in Rosalith dire news awaits from Sanbreque: Emperor Sylvestre Lesage has declared a war on Rosaria— a war that would pit Joshua and Dion against each other on the battlefield.

Worried and driven by the disconcerting feeling of the strange ripples that travel across his soul, Joshua embarks on a journey to Oriflamme with a small party of friends to meet Dion and to prevent the war. But as the mystery of the ripples unwinds, instead of protecting his country, Joshua finds himself fighting for Dion's life.

Chapter 1: Waves of Worry

The owl had arrived with the first rays of the sun, knocking on Joshua’s chamber’s window with a demanding beak. He knew something was wrong the moment he heard Dion’s voice through the stolas’ glowing light, a nigh uncatchable quiver clinging to his words.

We must meet, urgently. I will be waiting for you.

Barely awake, he’d ridden out of the castle gates without a word to anyone. 

Nightfall reached its palm across the land bringing out the wind that herded clouds to seal away the stars. A small hamlet loomed in the distance, its houses and rooftops a shadow against the darkening land. Finally.

He pulled the hood deeper over his head. ”Make haste, Gaia.”

The chocobo shrieked an answering kweh. She picked up her step, raising up a whirl of dust on the dry dirt road. 

Soon they arrived through the weather-worn village gates. A small stable stood by the gate where Joshua left the chocobo for the night as he’d done many times before. The hamlet slept quietly as he snuck through the narrow streets, dwelling in the shadows. At the far edge of the village waited the wilderness, a large forest that expanded to all directions. The whispers of the trees followed him deeper into the woods, along a forest path nearly overtaken by underbrush. 

The glade he arrived at was round and small.  Right by the tree line stood a silent cabin, once used by scouts. The porch creaked like it had since the first time he’d stepped on it years ago. The door was locked tight. 

There was no light inside, no man dressed in white standing by the table or perhaps by the bed, waiting. Joshua’s worry grew. 

He lit the torches along the walls and the candle on the square table. Honing his ears for any sound coming from outside, he paced the small perimeter of the room, waiting.

The cabin held all necessities: a bed spacious enough for them both, a fireplace and on the opposite wall a bench softened by lambskins. The kitchen took up one wall. Joshua brushed his fingers along the cold stovetop, could hear Dion’s humming as he cooked breakfast eggs, a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder. 

Now the silence was so deep the floorboards’ whining sounded like a screech.

The candle dripped wax on the table as it slowly melted down and quenched its own life. Joshua sat down on the bed that waited for him—them—so familiar now. He pressed the pillow to his face and breathed in the scent. The fabric smelled of earth, not of Dion. 

”Something’s happened,” he mumbled and clutched the pillow tight against his chest. ”He’s never late.” 

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