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casspurrjoybell-33 · 28 days

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Blue's Rose - Chapter 22 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Boys Will Not Apologize

Blue Cavanaugh & Kulap 'Kool' Somboon

Taking deep breaths, he walked into his room, shut and locked the door behind him and walked directly towards the bathroom, stripping his clothes off as he walked, dropping them wherever, not caring.

He made immediately for his jacuzzi tub and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it.

Walking naked back into his living area, he went to the small fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer, carrying it back with him to the tub.

He stepped up into the sizeable depths and lowered his feet into the slowly rising water.

With a deep sigh, he squatted and lowered his rear delicately into the heated water, leaning his shoulders back against the acrylic bath and shifting his hips upwards, letting the natural buoyancy of water do the rest.

He sighed again, his lower body for the first time today, feeling no soreness, pressure or pain.

His arms splayed along the tub's edges on either side of him, his beer still clutched in one hand, he took a sip, before leaning his head back on the soft waterproof pillow and closing his eyes.

As soon as they shut, so too did his worries, instead he was flooded with mental images of the last thirty-six hours, one by one they danced through his mind.

A smile played at his lips, as almost every image had a smiling Blue, a cocky Blue, a passionate Blue.

'A passionate Blue.'

He moaned low in his throat as his mind replayed highlights from the weekend, one being their very first time.

Kulap felt his face flush and not just from the heat of the water, his cock, despite enjoying multiple orgasms this weekend became semi erect.

Their first time had been near as perfect as he could have imagined, even the moments of awkwardness had been perfect, playful and fun.

Throughout, from start to finish... multiple finishes it had felt incredibly right, they had connected physically, mentally and emotionally in a way that blew his mind and any preconceived expectations.

Kulap took another long swill of the beer, thinking he should have grabbed two, he had no desire to leave the hot jetting water pulsing over his well-used body any time soon.

Despite what his mother had said, Kulap was completely prepared for work tomorrow, the large business deal that would be finalized.

He had been for over a week, Kulap never worked last minute, all deals were thoughtfully planned out and executed save for final signatures well before deadlines, it was his 'modus operandi', it's what made him so good.

His mother, the fun thoughts of earlier retreated as her angry face came to the forefront of his mind, she seemed to be getting worse, she seemed to want to control every aspect of his life up to and now including his weekends.

Never before had she questioned where he went or what he was doing, granted he did usually go to work on the weekends and he had never stayed out all night and come home in the same clothes but her reaction to it was out of proportion.

The punishment, his hand reached up to rub at his cheek, had not fit the crime.

So, he had missed a family dinner, stayed out overnight somewhere and hadn't gone into the office this weekend, her three accusations, even if they were all true and he had done every last one of them they didn't equal up to a tenth of bad behavior that she had lay at his feet.

He was dumbfounded by her over the top treatment and disappointed in his father's lack of support, had he not by now at least earned a little of that?

His brow wrinkled as he thought about his mother and her fury, he was going to have to be more careful.

She was becoming more demanding and obviously more watchful, he had been unaware that she kept track of his every movement.

If he continued to make her suspicious would she go so far as to have him followed?

He swallowed, appalled at the thought but unable to put it past her considering her behavior tonight, it was clear her control having gone unchecked for so long was getting out of hand but he had no idea how to counter it.

He could only be more careful if he wanted to shield Blue from her wrath and protect their remaining time together.

Kulap swallowed the last bit of beer from the bottle and lay a few minutes more.

Knowing he needed to review the finalized contract one last time as was his habitual practice the night before any deal was signed off on, he forced his exhausted body up out of the tub.

A few minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist, teeth brushed, he walked back out of the bathroom and headed to his desk.

Opening his lap top he quickly accessed the encrypted file he had his secretary send to him Wednesday afternoon after he made a few changes.

He had already reviewed it that night but he would review it again and again, in the morning.

Despite his mother's accusations, Kulap's business work ethic was second to none, he didn't slip up, he didn't fail.

Kulap sighed as he shut the lap top off and turned off the desk light, he only wished the same could be said for his personal life.

Maybe, he conceded as he threw the towel down to the floor and crawled naked into bed with a groan, that was why he was so good at his job.

He had no control, no say over his personal like, so in business, where funnily enough his family gave him open reign, he thrived, his business acumen on point.

Profits tripled the last few years all because of him and his choices, 'the irony.

Kulap closed his eyes, he was drained, a small smile teased his lips as he remembered all the pleasurable reasons for his current languid condition, his mind wandered to thoughts of Blue, wondering what he was doing now.

On impulse he leaned up on his elbow and stretched for his cell-phone, pulling it in close to him he quickly accessed Blue's number and sent him a quick text.

[Soaked in the tub with a beer. It would have been more fun if you were with me. 😉]

Grinning, Kulap lay the phone down on the mattress and lay his head back on the pillow.

He started counting, he had only gotten to fifteen when his phone vibrated next to him.

His grin widened, the response had come quicker than expected.

Grabbing up the phone he read the text and burst out laughing.

[I think there was a typo in your last text. Don't you mean it would have been more fun with me in you? 😊😉]

Kulap quickly texted back.

[Same thing.]

Propping his hand behind his head, still holding his phone he waited for Blue's next text.

He loved the sassy boldness of Blue, the things that came out of his mouth sometimes thrilled the naughty boy hiding deep inside Kulap.

Being with him this weekend had given Kulap a freedom, even if only for a few hours, to reciprocate that playful brazenness, wicked words rolling of his tongue, saucy impudent behavior rolling off his body.

Having a lover was exhilarating, having Blue as that lover was priceless.

The phone buzzed.

[Have to agree to disagree. I will be sure to show you the very DISTINCT difference, when I see you next.]

Kulap's body physically reacted to the promise, he groaned, he was not going there tonight, he was too tired for sexting but the imp still roaming freely inside him since being woken up yesterday couldn't help replying.

[Promises. Promise. Just make sure to bring your A game.]

His phone buzzed almost immediately, he was half afraid to look.

[Another typo I see. Don't you mean 'bring your F U game?' You're obviously tired babe. Get some sleep. I'll see you when you 'get off' tomorrow. See what I did there? LOL 😉 Night.]

Like a grinning fool, Kulap read the message three times and the entire exchange once more before flopping his phone screen side down on the bed.

He thumped his pillow with his fist and determinedly turned over on to his side to finally go to sleep though his mind was full of the mischievous man who was now his lover.

He didn't know how long it would take him to fall asleep, exactly four minutes.

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unknownjpegs · 9 months

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property value

The house comes with an original blueprint, which is nice. There’s some stuff he doesn’t feel comfortable doing alone, so it’s good to have when he needs to bring in an expert.

An expert meaning his dad’s old friend Jim, a retired contractor who offers to help him out if he can pay upfront. And if he’ll let Jim take some original brass dresser knobs that catch his eye.

“You see your old man lately?” Jim asks him, while they’re working in tandem to knock an old wall out.

Benji pauses mid-swing, wipes the sweat off his forehead. Gives Jim a look, one of the ones the old man is used to seeing from him since childhood. He puts both hands up in surrender.

“A’right, lad, a’right. On yer own time, whenever that might be.” He swings, and plaster flies.

“It’ll be soon,” Benji admits, but he thinks that might be lost in the loud thunk of the next blow.

It’s near sunset when they’ve managed to get the project done. When the frame of the wall is all that’s left standing, they take a break. Pints in hand, some shit swill from a fancy brewery out near Speke that Saha recommended.

“Shit swill,” Benji offers.

“Aye, well, don’t be snide about it, lad.” He takes another gulp, grimaces with more than a bit of regret. “Bet they put their best piss n’here, lotta hard work went in. Big stream.”

Benji snickers. “We’ll find somethin’ better for phase two, ‘ey?”

“Drive me to water, at this rate.” Jim says with a shake of his head. “You sure you wanna g’on? We can just fix ‘er up inside here.”

“I’m sure.”

“Load bearin’ wall on the other side, if we take this one. Can’t undo it, mate. Knocking’ a hole few feet off that little study.” Jim hedges. “M’not trying to steer y’off, just…it’s a historic house, Benji. You’re losin’ a lot of value with less room, just for this.”

Just for this, Benji thinks grumpily, eyebrow pulling. It’s not for nothing.

“Always wanted one of those big fuckers,” Benji says, stepping over to the sawhorse where they’ve laid out the blueprints.

“N’here I go reportin’ back to your old man, lad’s doin’ great, throwing orgies in his posh fuckin’ pool of a bath.”

“Do not,” Benji laughs, “Tell my fuckin’ pa that there are orgies happening. He’ll disown me for that over the military shit.”

Jim puts his hands up in surrender. “Listen, lad, what else am I meant to assume?”

When the bathroom’s done, tiled and wet-sealed and clean, Benji leads him up the rickety stairs — still gotta get those nails replaced — shrouded in a blindfold.

“This is a sex thing,” Xavier chuckles, hands out to catch himself on corners he’s not yet used to. “You keep telling me it’s not, but I can see right through your fuckin’ plan. Succubus.”

“It’s not. And aren’t the ones with dicks incubus,” Benji asks, genuinely thoughtful about it. “Incubi?”

“Dunno,” Xavier says, oof when he knocks against the bathroom door. “Never listened to them much.”

When the blindfold comes off and he sees the bath, Benji assumes it’s the excitement of a kid on Christmas. Never personally experienced that, but Xavier’s got the hyped-up gasp, the jittery ball of energy. His eyes bounce between it and Benji, question there. Benji grins, and it’s barely stretched his mouth before Xavier’s flung himself over the side.

Benji would reach for his phone and take a picture, if he hadn’t left it down on the couch.

“Oh, shit,” Xavier yells, the triumphant cry echoing off new tile. His sneakers squeak at the end of the tub, and he’s gotta sink real low, chin dipping under the edge, to get his toe even near under the faucet.

“Man,” he’s proper laughing, excitement lighting him up from the inside out. Benji can’t stop fucking grinning, so wide his cheeks are starting to ache. “I don’t even have to tuck my knees or anything.”

“You shoulda seen us trying to get it up the stairs. Had to knock out the wall and take the door to get it to fit in here.”

Xavier stops kicking his feet. Looks over at him, arm flung over the edge of the bath. “House didn’t come with a tub, huh? What kinda country is this. Very backwards, no wonder Brits smell.”

Benji sticks his tongue out. “It came with a bath,” he corrects, “You wanker. Real small one.”

Two big hands push up on the ceramic edge. Xavier looks very serious now, his eyebrow bunched and mouth open.

“You had this put in?”

Benji nods, shrugging a little sheepishly and breaking eye contact. “Sure.”

“For me?”

“Would you believe s’for the other six-something Yank who lives in the house?”

“No,” Xavier breathes, eyes wide. “Get over here before I drag you in.”

And he can’t really say no to that, can he? Not big enough for an orgy, but Benji fits with room to spare.

#writing #ua #bp #bp x xw #xw #core au

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writer59january13 · 2 years

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Variations On A Theme...

of hodgepodge strewn helter skelter

wonky inviting reader to mentally swelter.

Ach'n (ache Ken and burn'n) kickstarting existential and proverbial struggle

me species classified as generic muggle

analogous to entertainer

with namesake of yours truly

starring an out of world

stellar performer who doth juggle

regarding mein kampf, who sports thrift store couture NOT worn by Bellini, Paganini, Rossini... Eeny Meany Miney Moe - si, nor the three stooges tee hee hee “woo-woo-woo!,” “soitenly!” Punster mocker twill never cease

silly swill syllabification

meaning often twitching

inane written trend

not intending reader to offend of mine will never abide where verboten

arbitrarily, indiscriminately, and understandably

recklessly flaunting usage

and re:noun sing gerund only when...mortality brings life to an end ike'n no longer defend,

and thankfully late mother of mine

Riley's life she chose NOT

in a million years to abend!

Thus...once again, (or...as per usual),

male gender nonconforming wordsmith derelict

defies nothing but obscure alphabetic logic

opportunistically, indiscriminately, and digitally

furiously cutting and pasting discombobulated, disjointed, and displaced

outrageous images evoked

his invisible faux poetic mishmash pastiche emulating emperor donning his new clothes

oblivious clothing apparel absent

despite stunned into silence observers

himself sovereign paraded

without being astute; this poem iz also NOT a boot ruminations visiting shortish nasty brute, (he just learned how to walk

erect this morning) referencing who else except this ole coot

while (cue in dolorous, ludicrous, and tenebrous melody issued from

Mose Arts magic flute)

of course this complete fallacy just smore hove my asinine

baseless, fruitless, witless, et cetera at das receiving end damned lifetime role, and goot raw end of deal, sans docks side of moon efficient intervention

more offal than glute tee us expulsion trumpeted;

Teachers never gave a hoot

or proper fitting space age jumpsuit,

thenceforth viper got ramrod rigid taut as jute as they appeared oblivious, how moost all classmates did loot

when I travelled (with my cute Malamute outsize prairie dog like fine home companion) to the outer limits

of the twilight zone,

which groovy farout signals detected by vodafone

and desperate plea made for aliens to abduct me asap (receiving an affirmative digital binary tone)

similarly couched courtesy of publishers, unlike the negative responses, predictably forecast, no complex koan but clear as day -

inducing a slight inward moan, which figurative slap in face finding yours supine prone, hence...a recurring well known fantasy regarding plucking this chicken (198920) heart lee moss see jagged rolling stone;

as iced (sic culled) hood reaper remained mute and scythe lent,

whereat serpent (also known in political circles as Sally Salamander Newt Gingrich) charmed goaded, and relentlessly needled

a dam Eve with snake hushed snoot,

and wreaked havoc as root of all misfortunate previous to man/woman kind existence, at expense emotional account, viz

cheap trick super tramping suit reviled, renounced, and recanted fully "FAKE" pre fabric hated

discombobulated trumpeting ill suit head prevarications – more cheeky effects, thus allowing, enabling, and providing adapt tub bull usage as zoot suit.

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thatfanficstuff · 3 years

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Her Three Kings - Thirty-One

A Volturi Kings x ofc story

Warnings: mentions of vomit, death, dismembering, mild torture, blood

A/N: All the things happen.

divider by firefly-graphics

Jasper took Liliana hunting every day for the next four days. Every day she drank and every day she’d vomit it up within half an hour of their return to the cabin. She tried to do it away from the others, but she was certain they knew. It wasn’t easy to hide something from four vampires. She was also sure that was why Jasper had forced her to hunt every day.

Lily stared at the flames dancing in front of her as she checked all her blocks one by one. There were so many she’d become little more than a shell. But they were breaking down. Nothing catastrophic but there were definite cracks allowing whatever was dammed up behind them to seep through. An emotion here. A jolt of pain there. And the hunger. Oh, that was a needy growing thing. Which meant the block between her and Jasper needed to be stronger than the others. The more energy she put there, the less she had to distribute elsewhere. Then more cracks formed. It was a vicious circle that would eventually destroy her.

A sweet aroma pulled her from her thoughts. Saliva pooled in her mouth and she swallowed it down. She glanced in the direction it came from but didn’t move to find it. She was too exhausted, too weak. Seconds passed and Garrett appeared in the clearing.

He tossed a body beside her. “Eat.” His voice was little more than a growl.

Lily glanced between her friend and the meal with wide eyes.

“Don’t think we don’t know you haven’t been keeping any of that swill down. You need real food. Eat.”

That was the only encouragement she needed. She was on the body a moment later and that’s all it was to her. If anyone asked later she wouldn’t be able to tell them how old the person had been or if they were male or female. She simply didn’t care. Every swallow fed life into her body, brought back some of the strength she’d been missing. She didn’t stop until the corpse was empty of blood.

Lily wiped the back of her hand across her mouth before smiling at Garrett. “Thank you.”

His gaze ran over her before he grinned. “You already look better, Queenie. We get a few more of those in you and you’ll be right as rain.”

Pain shot through her head and heat flooded her body. Her stomach churned and her chest grew tight. A tear leaked from her eye to roll down her cheek. “Not again.”

She swallowed several times before launching to her feet and stumbling to the edge of the clearing. She emptied everything she’d just eaten into the grass. Every bit of improvement went with it. Lily fell to her knees before collapsing sideways. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed. Tears rolled across her face and into the dirt.

Someone picked her up and cradled her in their lap. She didn’t know who held her as she continued to weep. Gods, everything hurt. And she was tired. So, so exhausted.

It wasn’t until later, when hands began to undress her that she came back to herself a little. Alice and Charlotte stripped her ruined clothes off then helped her step into the tub. Lily wondered exactly how long she’d been out of it as they’d had to heat the water over the fire outside and she hadn’t even noticed.

She sighed and more tears leaked down her cheeks as she drew her knees up to her chest. The women murmured comforting words as they scrubbed at her skin and washed her hair. Finally, Lily spoke. “Ali?”

“I’m here, Lils.”

Her gaze moved to lock on her sister kneeling beside the tub. Her heart ached but she needed to get the words out. They needed to know. “I’m dying.”

Once again Liliana found herself sitting by the firepit staring at the flames. The others argued nearby. The topics kept shifting between whether she was actually dying or just sick and what to do about it. When she could take the bickering no longer she managed to gather herself enough to speak. “I want to go home.” She shook her head. “No. I need to.”

The others fell silent as all eyes turned to their failing queen. They would do as she wished not because she was their ruler but because she was their friend. “You want to return to Forks?” Alice asked, uncertainty in her tone.

“That’s not her home anymore,” Jasper said. “She wants to go back to Volterra.”

Lily’s gaze met his which was all he needed to confirm he was right. The view was blocked when Sebastian sat beside her and took her hand between both of his. “Are you certain that is what you wish, fiore? After the way they treated you? What makes you think things will be any different if you return now?”

Her brow furrowed against a flash of pain. Gods, her eyes hurt. She closed them against the pressure. Her arm jerked as Sebastian was shoved away from her. She opened her eyes to find that Jasper had the other vampire hanging in the air with a hand around his throat. No, not Jasper. The Major.

“If you touch her again, I will remove your head and burn the corpse.”

“I don’t like the boy either, Major, but killing him seems a might extreme,” Garrett said as he stepped closer to the pair. He positioned himself so Sebastian would have to go through him to get to Lily. Not that he had a chance of escaping Japer and the Major.

Lily’s eyes darted around the clearing taking everything in. Things were suddenly beginning to make sense. Sebastian had finally slipped up.

“He did something to her. I felt it through the bond the moment he grabbed her hand,” the Major insisted.

“Yes, he wasn’t very subtle this time, was he?” Lily stood and Garrett grasped her elbow to support her. “He must have been desperate to keep me from my mates.”

“Subtle about what, Lily?” Charlotte asked, her voice soft and unsure.

Lily closed her eyes and took a breath. “Whatever he’s been doing to destroy my life.”

The guard’s laughter surprised her and her eyes flew open to study him. His lips twisted into a sneer contorting his face into something far uglier than normal. Or maybe that was just her seeing him for what he really was for the first time.

“What did you do?” the Major demanded as he squeezed harder. Cracks appeared under his grip and radiated onto the other man’s face and chest. That had to hurt. Not that Lily could bring herself to care at the moment.

“The bonds. It has to be for you to have felt it.” Lily narrowed her gaze as she tried to work out exactly what Sebastian had done.

“Jasper, it’s okay, honey,” Alice said, placing her hand on his back as she tried to calm him down.

“Leave him, Ali. Just don’t kill him permanently, Major. We need answers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Alice stepped back though Lily could tell she didn’t want to.

She shifted her focus back to Sebastian. “What’s your gift?”

He said nothing, just keeping that stupid sneer on his face.

Lily sat back down as exhaustion swamped her. She was too tired for this shit. “Take his arm,” she ordered no one in particular.

Peter complied while Sebastian howled in pain. Garrett stayed between her and the prisoner. Alice and Charlotte stood a short distance away ready to intervene if needed.

“Your gift?” Lily asked again.

Still no answer.

She flicked her gaze to Peter. “Burn it.”

His lips curled into a small smile as he did as ordered. The flames flared with the new source of fuel. Sebastian’s eyes went wide at the realization that she would literally have them take him apart a piece at a time and there would be nothing to put back together. If he wasn’t going to talk there was no point keeping him alive. At least that’s what she wanted him to think. Aro could always read him later, but she wanted her answers now. Some of them at any rate.

“Gift?”

“Bond emotion manipulation.”

The Major’s grip loosened slightly at the proof that the guard would speak.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Garrett asked.

“One touch and I can affect how anyone you share a bond with feels about you and vice versa. Our little queen has so many bonds. She forms them so easily, you see.” Sebastian grinned then, incredibly proud of all the damage he had wrought. “And when I started playing with them, I discovered a delightful side effect. By manipulating emotions through the bonds, I was weakening them. I’d never done it so extensively before.”

Lily shook her head. “It’s not possible. Aro would have seen your gift. He would have known and he would have kept you the fuck away from me.”

“He discovered it many times. And then Bianca would make him forget. Just like she’d manipulate Marcus’ memory of our bond.”

She closed her eyes in thought. Bianca. Why did she know that name? Gods, why wouldn’t her brain work the way she needed it to? Oh, yeah, this asshole.

“Don’t tell me you forgot her already, your majesty. You are to blame for her death, after all.” Venom dripped from Sebastian’s every word.

Just like that it came to her and she felt stupid that she’d even had to think about it. Bianca was the memory manipulator that had led the Volturi to believe she was dead when John was murdered. That had tried to kill her the day Caius bit her. That had been lying to her mates about so many things for decades if not longer. The bitch that her mates killed. Suddenly, it was all very clear.

“So, you destroy my relationship with the kings as revenge for her death.”

“No!” he screamed. Jasper’s hand tightened in warning.

“It’s revenge for letting me live. The original plan was to kill you and leave them to live without you so they would know how it felt. Then I saw the effect the damaged bonds were having on you. You’ll still die but your mates will forever know they are partly to blame.” The look of pure triumph on his face was so much worse than his words. “Of course, I wasn’t planning on being discovered. I intended to watch them suffer.”

The expected anger was nowhere to be found. Instead, Lily was flooded with relief. The knowledge that an outside force had manipulated everything and that it could somehow be fixed relieved her of a good portion of her burden.

“The letter,” Jasper demanded, Major having retreated for the time being.

She was confused for a moment until Sebastian started talking. “Do you think I’d get to my age without having connections that could forge anything I wished for the right price?”

“How did you keep the kings from coming after her?” Alice asked. “They love her. I saw it.”

“She left a letter of her own, of course, warning them not to follow if they ever wished her to return.”

Lily’s head spun and her chest felt heavy. This absolute bastard. This menace. She should take him home to Aro. Let her mate strip every bit of useful information from him possible. She should, but she wouldn’t.

“Burn him.”

#volturi kings fanfiction #marcus volturi fanfiction #caius volturi fanfiction #aro volturi fanfiction #volturi kings x ofc #twilight fanfiction #aro volturi x ofc #caius volturi x ofc #marcus volturi x ofc #series #her three kings

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sp00kworm · 4 years

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Silence (Part 3- Bloodhound’s Ending)

Part 1 - A Bar Brawl

Part 2 - A Totem to Remember (Revenant’s Ending)

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Pairing: Bloodhound x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: None

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The Star Goddess - Bloodhound’s Ending

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Bloodhound had done well in the games recently. Keen eyes with even keener tactics had proven their worth countless times, in countless line-ups. They had a good number of wins under their belt and you assumed that meant lots of winnings. The customers had quickly become fans, and often you found them asking you about the mysterious champion and to put on the highlights for the latest match. You were always happy to put the highlights on for them when asked, and you enjoyed watching the expert tracking from Bloodhound on the screen. A few weeks of highlights made you wonder if Bloodhound would ever come back to your little bar in the outskirts of the city.

A chirp from over your shoulder paused you in your humming. The washing robot chirped again as you looked at it and watched the screen as it flashed with a winking emoji and a smirk before red text scrolled along the bottom.

‘WASHING COMPLETED!’

You smiled and nodded, “Okay buddy.” You patted his front, “Did you manage to put them all away?” You asked.

The robot chirped with a nod, his green optics flashing before he held out a tub of the shot glasses for you to take.

“I’ll put them away, no problem. Thank you.” You took the box with a smile and moved back towards the cabinet to put all the freshly washed glasses back in their proper homes. You blew dust from the shelves and tutted before taking a duster and wiping the shelves down with quick strokes towards you, removing the thin layer of dust over the wood. It was much tidier with a dusting. After placing the duster away you started putting away the glasses in their correct places.

You jumped when there was a knock at the front door. It was just before closing, but there wasn’t anyone in the bar, so you’d already gotten to cleaning up for the night. Another few knocks sounded against the metal and you placed the tub of glassware down before you headed over to the door and opened it a small amount.

A man stood in front of you, dressed in heavy pelts with a smile like a bears snarl. He gave a great laugh at you before pulling back his hood to reveal his bright white hair and beard, “It’s been long, krútt!” He raised his arms jovially before heaving his packs a little higher and pulling his hover-sledge a little.

“It has been a long, long time, Halldór.” You replied with a laugh as you let the traveller into the bar, “How has business been?” You asked as you helped him tuck his sledge in the corner by the door.

“Pah. What business?!” Halldór sneered as his icy eyes trained on the bar, “But you have had a makeover! Look you even have…what is name? Holovision!” He clapped his hands together before he tugged free his furs and hung them over the hooks by the door, “Did you get loan?”

“Nothing like that…” You shrugged, “Some asshole came in here and started…well…” You grumbled, “A man died in here and I got a lot of hush money.” The confession was like poison and bitter in your mouth and you unhooked the bar door before closing it and facing Halldór.

“Hush money. Not good to get involved with those sorts…even after the war.” He tutted in disappointment, “But, I suppose the money went to good use.” He didn’t ask anymore questions, and you were glad, for both of your sakes. You knew that the Games would not be too happy with more people knowing about the murder. It was best left in the past, and that was where you would rather it stay forever. Just the thought of Revenant’s orange gaze made you grimace.

Halldór sat himself at the bar and smiled, “Come, come. Let me tell you about the Outlands! There are new faces and new stories to be heard.”

“How about we get to that after you show me what insane drinks you’ve brought.” You laughed as you reached for some glasses and placed them in front of the Outlander.

Halldór scrubbed his hair back from his face and stood with a groan, hobbling tiredly, and dramatically, over to his sledge to take out items from the sacks laid across the metal structure. The sacks were large but Halldór reached into each of them in turn and pulled free a bottle of liquor from each, each of them wrapped tightly with brown paper and tied to stop them from breaking and spilling into the rest of his goods. He pulled all the brown paper free and revealed a brown bottle and two green taller bottles. They each had a hand made label and you looked at them before taking the brown one in hand and smiling at the label. Brennivín. You smiled at the label and turned it around for him to see.

“It has been a while since I’ve gotten hold of it.” Halldór chuckled as he squinted at the label, “That’s something strong right there.” He snorted, “I don’t think many customers would be after that.”

“Its more for a personal try.” You offered as you turned the bottle back to face him and hummed, “What kind of a price are you thinking of? I can give you a hundred for it.” You went in low, knowing you had room to bargain with the trader then.

Halldór snorted at your offer, “I want at least two hundred for it. It has come a long way you see.” He smirked at your scowl.

“One bottle for two hundred. No way. One fifty.” You retorted.

“Not even one hundred and sixty?” Halldór teased you.

“Nice try. Not a penny more for you.” You chastised as Halldór laughed at you. You reached for your credit purse and pulled out the chips for Halldór to take from the top. He slid you the bottle and you took it from the bar top with a smile. The green label was stark with a writing you were sure you could not read in large lettering above the translation.

“I have something else you might like.” Halldór smirked as he went back to retrieve something else from one of his large sacks. He pulled free a large jar full of meat and sauce.

“That looks like death.” You commented at you watched the pickling liquid swill left and right.

“No, no. It is pickled meats. Goes well with Brennivín.” He said as you took the jar from his grasp to look at the long strips of game in the juice.

“I feel like you’re lying to me, but I’ll take it.” You hummed as you eyed the gamey looking meat.

“For you, eighty credits.” Halldór smiled and you handed him the credits without much complaint, wondering if you could find someone to eat it if you didn’t like it.

Halldór tucked away all his goods before he sat down and slapped the bar with his palms, “Come then. Let us drink for a while, you can fill me in on what I have missed among the land of the living.”

You laughed at the merchant before you reached under the bar and plucked free a very suspicious looking rum, “Well you’ll be glad I got this then. I think it was made in some guys basement, but I know you like those sorts of drinks.”

Halldór laughed brightly, “You know me so well!” He threw his arms out with a guffaw and you laughed with him as you reached for the glasses and poured him a drink.

“To meeting old friend again!” Halldór cheered as he held his alcohol up. You clicked your glasses together and drank with each other late into the night, far past closing time.

The memory of that hang over made your eyes spin in your skull, a reminder of how tired you had felt the next day as you opened the bar for the night, eyes half closed despite the insane amount of water you had chugged. It was another busy night, some days after your exhaustion, and you were rushed off your feet trying to get out the insane amount of drinks to customers without any help. Thankfully, your washing robot was happy to step in and help you out with serving, though he was no good at pulling pints. You’d let him start pouring and watched as his tummy for washing smacked the handles over and caused beer to spill over the sides, splashing everywhere as the robot fussed and chirped in upset. Now he was happily handing out bottles and cans of drinks as you took care of the pints and other more delicate drinks which the robot could not handle. It went a lot easier with some help and you felt less rushed off your feet as the customers eventually ebbed to drinking and speaking with the occasional refill for the larger groups.

Closing time couldn’t come any sooner as you took in the last of the glasses and hooked your robot back up to the water to get on with the tidying. He chirped happily as the water started to churn in his systems and you laughed softly as he chirped a tune.

“Thanks for today buddy, you were a big help.” You cooed as you patted his shoulders and brushed off some dirt from him before you took your cloths and set to cleaning down the bar top and the tables

His screen flashed with a thumbs up emoji and you laughed again as the robot hummed to himself and happily set about working cleaning and stacking pots.

“That’s it, buddy. Too right.” You jokingly said as you headed back towards the tables on the back wall of the bar with the trigger bottle of disinfectant in your hand. The tables were particularly covered in beer and pieces of nuts. You grumbled at the mess, wiping away the sticky mess before you cleaned away the crumbs and sprayed it with disinfectant. The holoscreen played softly in the background announcing the end results of this season in the Apex Games. It was a rough season, but Bloodhound had finished with many wins under their belt, closely followed by Revenant. Neither was the winner overall, but you turned to watch the replays of intense moments and laughed at the knife in Revenant’s side as Bloodhound severed his coolant pumps and drove it three times up through his sternum, severing the rest of Revenant’s vitals before they laid the Simulacrum back and placed the gun over his chest with a nod of their head. The Simulacrum got what he deserved for trying to bait the hunter into fighting him.

The call of a Raven sounded from outside and your head shot up as you paused cleaning the tabletops to peer through the window as the Raven hopped along the window ledge and pecked at the glass harshly. Two hands appeared from behind the wall to grasp the bird by its body, tucking its wings close before the hunter appeared, clad in heavy fabric and goggles, their respirator fixed firmly in place. Bloodhound peered through the window, Artur tucked under their arm before they nodded their head in greeting and knocked on the door quietly with three solid raps of their knuckles. You turned towards the door and unlocked the mechanism before peering out with a smile.

“Hey stranger.” You smiled at Bloodhound.

Bloodhound let Artur go at the birds incessant nipping to their gloves and watched him hop up their shoulder before replying, “It has been some time.” They commented, “I hope you have faired well.”

“I’ve been fine! It’s been busy but with the season over its finally winding down a little bit.” You let Bloodhound in through the door, watching as Artur hopped across their shoulders before cawing loudly at your face, his beak snapping at your nose.

“Artur. That is rude.” Bloodhound reprimanded as they entered the bar, peering around the empty inside before they limped over to the bar and settled awkwardly on the seat, their foot perched on the stepping part of another stool.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You watched Bloodhound as you rounded the back of them and lifted the bar door before standing behind the top and watching them squirm in discomfort, however minimalistic the movements were.

“I am fine. A small injury in the ring.” Bloodhound brushed your concerns aside as they adjusted themself on the stool.

“Revenant got you in that tussle, didn’t he?” You asked as you reached into the back of the liquor cabinet for the new bottle of Brennivín. You turned back to Bloodhound with a smile as you offered the green bottle to them and placed it on top of the wood. Bloodhound gave a breathy chuckle as they took the bottle and looked at the handmade label.

“The Simulacrum got his recompense for daring to try.” Bloodhound observed softly as they ran their gloved fingers over the label and reached to undo the top, pulling the cork with a deft twist of their wrist before smelling the strong liquor, even through the respirator.

“Its strong. That’s for sure. I remember you saying something about cold glasses?” You reached under the bar and tugged out two glasses from the cooler, laying them on the top for Bloodhound.

“

“Yes. Though snow is still the best way to cool this.” Bloodhound huffed a laugh again as they poured a generous amount into each glass.

You took one in your hand and raised it to the hunter, “To…” You floundered, “I don’t know. What do we toast to?”

Bloodhound held their glass up, “To new friendships and a long rest.” They tapped your glasses together before laying the drink back on the bar and waiting.

“Ah, sorry.” You turned around as they reached to undo the straps of their respirator, “You don’t have to take it off if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Bloodhound tapped the back of your elbow, “I do not mind.” Their voice was soft but gentle, like the sound of a strong wave against the beach, powerful but not hurtful. You turned around and smiled at their scarred face, the pale skin covered in thin veins of tough scars from an old injury. Their goggles stayed in place with their head wear and scarves, which prevented anything else from being revealed. Still, the gently slope of their lips made you wonder how someone with such a pretty, yet scarred mouth, could be a vicious hunter in a game of blood sport.

Bloodhound ignored your eyes looking over their scars and gave a small smile. It was a simple small twist of the corner of their lips before they took a large swallow of Brennivín and hissed at the burning in the back of their throat, “That is stronger than I have had.” They coughed a couple of time before chuckling and motioning to your own drink which you had not touched, “You have toasted but not drank.”

You swallowed heavily, “I don’t know if I want to after your reaction, and you’ve been drinking it all your life.”

“It is not that bad, so long as your stomach is strong.” Bloodhound insisted with another chuckle, “You will be fine. Give it a taste.”

“If you insist.” You joked as you took a sip of the liquor. It took a moment for the taste to pass and the burning sensation to clench your throat, “Oh my…” You gave a sharp cough and cringed at the burn before breathing deeply to try and ease it.

“It is good for the soul.” Bloodhound chuckled again before Artur squawked and tried to dip his beak into the glass, “No, my friend, it is far too strong for you.” They eased the bird from their shoulder and watched the Raven protest and hop along the bar, ruffling his feathers and pecking at the wood and bar taps.

Suddenly you felt at a loss for what to say. You had wondered if Bloodhound would ever show up. They were under no obligation to, of course, they had merely been interested in keeping Revenant in line, but you had to wonder if they enjoyed your company.

“So, what’s kept you away? Has Revenant kept you busy?” You asked as you watched Bloodhound sip at the drink.

Bloodhound gave a grumble, “Unfortunately. The robot cannot control itself.” Their fingers twitched in the motion as though they were playing with something and you watched them reached to their thigh and pluck free a short throwing dagger before they proceeded to spin the blade back and forth and around their fingers in a dexterous display.

“I don’t doubt that.” You commented as you dragged yourself over a stool and sat in front of Bloodhound, “I know it first-hand, after all.” You tried to laugh a little to not remember the night of the slaughter across your bar floor, but the blood and guts were fresh in your mind. The alcohol’s sting was welcome as you avoided Bloodhound’s eyes behind the orange tinted goggles.

A hand on your own shocked you, and you looked up just as they slid the knife across the bar, the tip of the blade tapping at your wrist.

“You do not have to fear him, krúttið mitt.” Bloodhound uttered before revealing bright, white teeth. Two fangs dipped out from under their top lip and you found yourself staring a little as their other hand cupped your palm and squeezed softly, comfortingly.

“I don’t fear him…” You tried to ease your hand out with a gentle tug, “I just don’t want him near me or my bar, ever again. I wouldn’t hesitate to…to…”

“I admire your bravery, but you would be dead before you could touch a wire. He is an animal now, do not forget that. He would have little regard for your life.” Bloodhound grumbled again, “I have seen him torture my fellows. I know what he is capable of. You are best to stay away.”

“And what, you’ll protect me?” You scoffed, “I’ve heard that before.”

“I will.” Bloodhound’s goggled eyes looked towards your own, the deep brown glinting through with the shine of the antique lighting, “I will make sure he bothers you no longer, this I promise.” They covered their heart and bowed their head, “And if I fail, then you will have the right to hate me.”

You took your hands away with a frown before shaking it and giving a wet, upset laugh, “There’s no need for the dramatics. I believe you.” You watched Bloodhound drag their hands back after a moment before you held the bottle of Brennivín again, “Another?”

“I would rather not partake again but thank you.” Bloodhound reached for their respirator and fixed it back into place. Their respirator whooshed quietly as you put the bottle back in its appropriate place.

“Do you have matches coming up?” You asked as you worked quietly behind the bar, facing the cabinet.

Bloodhound shook their head, the beads and bones of their hat clicking together, “Not soon, but I promised Loba I would help her practice her hand to hand.” They stated softly, “Though I think it is her way of gauging our individual abilities.” They confessed with a peer up the bar at Artur who was contently admiring himself in a metal nut dish.

Loba seemed to hardly need such training, “I think you’re probably right about that.” You chuckled, “Watching the test match…Well she really doesn’t need the training, huh?”

Bloodhound hummed in agreement, “She is up to something.” They commented mildly.

“Like what? I thought you were all there for the contest and the titles…or whatever it is you all like.” You asked as you leaned over to finish the last of the liquor in your glass with another cringe and a cough. You decided one glass was more than enough for you as well.

“Titles?” Bloodhound hummed, “I have three titles of Apex Predator, but that is not why I do this…The hunt is what I live for.” They confessed with another look at their knife, their glove testing the sharpness of the edge before they levelled their gaze on you, “None of us are kind people, but there are far more dangerous folk than I in these games. I am here to honour my Gods and my family. Others for fame. Others for death.”

“That’s…” You swallowed, “I didn’t mean to assume anything.”

“You have done no harm. Now you know my reasoning.” Bloodhound nodded their head, “I live for the hunt and to honour the All Father.” They confessed quietly as they slid the knife away.

There was a moment of quiet between the two of you before Bloodhound looked back at the door and to Artur who hopped along the bar back to the hunter’s arm. The Raven pecked at Bloodhound’s sleeve before he climbed back up to their shoulder, perched, watching you with two beady black eyes.

“I can’t say I understand it, but I respect it. It’s better than a lot of people.” You smiled at Bloodhound before remembering the jar of pickled meats you had gotten, “Oh, wait a minute. I know you want to go but I have something for you.” You rushed into the kitchen and rooted through the cupboards. Your washing robot chirped in confusion, large question marks floating over his screen as you finally pulled free the pickled game that you had purchased. Thankfully, when you rushed back into the bar, Bloodhound was still perched on their seat, watching you with their head slightly tilted in curiosity.

You placed the jar on the bar top, “I got these from the same merchant as the Brennivín. He said that anyone who liked Brennivín would love this.” You tapped the metal lid of the jar before sliding it closer to Bloodhound, “Take it as a thank you for what you’ve done for me.”

Bloodhound eyed the jar before carefully pulling it closer with a gloved hand, their respirator whooshing quietly with air before they reached to undo the lid. It came off with a pop and carefully they leaned to look into the pickling liquid.

“Pickled pheasant.” They whispered before looking back to you, maybe to assess your motive and reasoning, “I have no had this since I was a child.” They confessed as they screwed the lid back into place, “There was an old woman, we all called Amma, who made the best. Sour but meaty. Cooked just right. She passed some years into my teenage life. So, I thank you. This is a fine gift, krúttið mitt.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled before looking back to the orange goggles, which hid dangerous eyes, “You keep calling me that…What does it mean?” You asked.

Bloodhound shook their head, the metal beads and nuts of their headwear clinking before they stood from the bar seat, “Perhaps that is something for another day. It is late and I have a long way back to my residence.” They reached for the jar and tucked it under their arm, “Thank you, for the drink, gift and for your time.”

“Its not a problem. You’re actually lovely company.” You complimented.

“Thank you?” The hunter seemed a little flustered, “I am oft’ told I am…too stoic and boring.” Bloodhound gave a small breathy laugh before tipping their hat, “I will see you again. Good night.”

“Good night, Bloodhound.” You followed them to the door and closed it behind them, watching through the window as Artur took off into the sky and Bloodhound melted into the shadows past the streetlamps.

The break between the seasons was a little longer this time. Various legends had injuries which needed to heal and personal business to attend to before they could get back to what they did best. That meant that Bloodhound had more free time to come to the bar. Sometimes they had a drink, but others they did not. The legend was not much of a drinker and you figured that out when one night they had around four drinks and swayed in their seat, back and forth, grumbling about each and every legend. Mirage came up often. It was usually how annoying the man was for a playboy. Loba came up a few times in the same category. A flirt by nature she managed to ruffle Bloodhound’s feathers often and the hunter made it clear how much they despised the foolery of it all. Other times, Bloodhound showed up after closing and simply talked about their day, carefully retelling tales they thought you would enjoy. That’s how the stories started. When you were alone, each with a drink and a snack, Bloodhound would think of a tale from their childhood, about the Gods or folktales which were too whimsical to ever believe. You were entranced by their voice and storytelling capabilities, and a few times you watched Artur settled down to sleep with the gentle rhythm. You yourself could have also fallen asleep with the peace that settled over you both in those moments. They became precious memories to you as you greeted Bloodhound at the door with a smile and a drink or food.

All you had to wonder was if they felt the same way.

The night before the season start was cold. The wintertime was rolling in, even to the city, and you made sure to keep the bar doors firmly closed the whole night and the heaters on. Even your washing robot complained about his coolants being far too cold. You shuddered in a jumper as you placed the last of the glasses away and peered at the clock. It was very late. A knock made you grin, even as your teeth attempted to chatter, and you headed to the small back door and unlocked the electronic system, smiling up at Bloodhound as they ducked a little to enter. Artur squawked on top of their head and you laughed as Bloodhound shook their head to make the Raven move.

“Good evening.” Bloodhound uttered, “Forgive me for being sudden, I know you have no said anything yet, but I have something to ask of you?” They asked in a rush, their voice betraying a small amount of urgency.

“Hi to you too.” You teased before stepping back to let them inside, “Sure. Is anything wrong?”

Bloodhound shook their head, “Nothing of the sort.” They promised before they reached to remove their hat, revealing a wrap of dark cloth hiding their hair and features from you still. They ducked their head and placed their hand over their heart, “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me out?”

It was very old fashioned, but you remembered that Bloodhound had grown up very isolated away from the normal city life and culture. A smile split your face before you could control yourself.

“You mean like on a date?” You asked curiously.

Bloodhound swallowed audibly, “If that is agreeable to you? If not, then you may forget that this ever occurred…”

“No!” You rushed to catch their gloved hand and smiled, “I would be honoured…But let me get a coat, okay? Its too cold to be outside without too many layers.”

“Of course. Take your time. We will have to travel by hover to get there.” Bloodhound nodded as they turned back to the door, “I will wait at the front.” They promised.

“Okay. I’ll not be long. I just have to get a coat and lock up.” You rushed into the back and up the stairs to your small flat over the top of the bar. After snatching a warm coat from its hook and you rushed back and helped your washing robot back into the charging point before locking all the doors. Eventually, you appeared out of the front door and looked at the hovering vehicle.

Bloodhound hopped from the vehicle and you looked at the old engines with a fond smile. It was similar to an ancient snowmobile, but it hovered above the ground with old technology, humming much louder than any of the newer modern models.

“I haven’t seen a mobile like this in a long time.” You nodded appreciatively of it.

“It is old, but she will get us to where we need to go.” Bloodhound promised with a soft chuckle, “It is up in the mountain.” They pointed up past the city outskirts to the mountain beyond, “The snow has fallen so we will need her to move through the terrain unhindered.” They stood by the side of the vehicle next to the back which was packed with fur and blankets. You smiled excitedly before you took hold of the hunter’s gloved hand and let them help you into the small back compartment. You sat carefully and laughed as Bloodhound flicked the hover mobile into action and punching the gas. The two of you streamed down the old roadways towards the outskirts, quickly leaving behind the blue light pollution as the fields turned into old pine trees.

The mountain was cold, and you laughed brightly again as Bloodhound engaged the snow skis and the hover vehicle sprayed snow either side of you both. It was exhilarating to be out of the pollution riddled, busy city, and be in the fresh air of the countryside. You held your head high in the fresh, cold air and watched Bloodhound navigate the mountain with ease, their shoulders relaxed as they handled the controls with small turns and touches. You looked at the ancient trees with awe.

“Do you come up here often?” You asked over the hum of the engine.

“Not often enough.” Bloodhound replied, their feet planted firmly as they made a sharp turn and revved the engine again, heading up towards a large rock platform jutting from the side of the mountain. You looked at the place and wondered if it was warm, as there was no snow covering the grey surface of the stone.

“Is that where we’re heading?” You shuffled in your seat to look over the side of the vehicle.

“Yes. We are almost there.” Bloodhound peered over their shoulder, orange goggles glinting in the small amount of light from the lamps they had on the front and back of the snowmobile, “Keep inside. Some rocks could catch you.” They scolded as you headed towards the platform with another grumble from the old engine.

“Careful. The snow hides holes and rocks.” Bloodhound jumped from the snowmobile before they held out their hand to help you out of the small seat in the back.

“Thank you.” You took their hand and hopped out before watching your breath steam in the air and laughing excitedly, rushing over the rocks to go and look out across the city below, “This is amazing!” You cried as Bloodhound dragged the blankets and a basket from the back of the vehicle, “How did you find this?”

“I have time to waste occasionally.” Bloodhound chuckled before they reached for another pack and you rushed to help, taking the large bundle of blankets to help them a little, “Thank you, krúttið mitt.”

“You still haven’t told me what that means.” You joked as you carried the blankets to the edge and unwrapped the cord which held them in a large roll.

Bloodhound placed the basket down before hefting the furs from their shoulder. They gazed over the mountain’s edge before replying, “It means something…like sweetheart.” They confessed in a hushed voice.

You looked at them and smiled, sensing their unease, “That’s adorable.”

“I am glad you like it.” Bloodhound returned in a rush before looking at the pile of blankets you had set out and dragging them out on top of one another, “I did…I thought it was perhaps stepping over a boundary?”

“You worry a lot, you know.” You joked as you sat over the blanket and accepted a heavy, outstretched fur, “I…I can’t hate it, because its from you, and you mean a lot to me Bloodhound.”

“I…” Bloodhound seemed stunned, “You mean more than you know to me.” They draped another fur over you before sitting close and peering down at you through their orange goggles. You took the initiative and tugged your own furs over Bloodhound’s lap before sitting closer. You were close enough to feel the heat from their covered skin, but you only smiled and took one of their hands, linking your fingers before you looked out at the city, far, far below, and listened to the peace around the two of you.

“I have brought food…like those…how do you say it. Picnics!” Bloodhound exclaimed softly as they dragged the basket over and squeezed at your hand, enjoying the contact even through their thick clothing.

“A picnic? What have you brought?” You asked as you leaned over Bloodhound’s lap to peer at the contents of the wicker basket. It was covered with a deep blue cloth and they dragged it away before revealing a small selection of food you had never seen before.

“They are delicacies from my home world.” Bloodhound pulled free a small jar and you recognised the pickled meat you had given them, “I thought it would be…nice to share them with you as I tell you a story. I had to spend a long time remembering this one.” They confessed as they pulled free a dense looking load of bread and a tub of butter, “If that is what you want?”

You tugged the furs closer and nodded as they sliced the bread on a plate and buttered you a piece, “Of course, you know I love the stories!” You gushed as you took the bread and took a bite, humming as Bloodhound fished you free a piece of meat and then showed you the mushrooms they had also covered in a form of sauce. It looked spicy and you gladly dug in as they cautiously reached for their respirator.

Their hands reached for the straps and you watched the elastics loosen as they pulled the clips free and the respirator fell away with a quiet whoosh of air, revealing their scarred lower face. They smiled at you, revealing a single point of one canine before they took a moment to get used to the mountain air.

“Does it not hurt?” You asked worriedly, “I know…”

Bloodhound held up their hand before they coughed a few times over their shoulder, “No. It takes some time to adjust. The fresh air is fine, but the city. The air there hurts.” Bloodhound’s fingers squeezed your hand again in comfort as they coughed a few more times before finally growing used to the unfiltered air.

“These mushrooms…I’m amazed!” You cooed to distract them, happy to see them smile again as you gobbled another, “I never thought you…”

“That pickled foods would taste good?” Bloodhound teased with a small wheeze, “I confess, I thought you would hate them. They are an acquired taste, krúttið mitt.” They took a small bite of bread before seeking a large piece of game and tearing it apart easily with pointed teeth, chewing quickly before the rest of the piece followed. You only continued to eat, waiting for them to start the tale you wanted to hear.

“Before there was day. Night ruled the frozen wastes.” Bloodhound started as they laid back, tugging you into the blankets so you could both gaze up at the bright stars hanging above the two of you, “There was a goddess of light, controlled by her ruler the Night, banished to a cage in the sky, twinkling in the halls of the Night as she wept tears of silver light from between the bars.” They gestured to the sky above, “She reached between the bars and begged the Night to let her free, to let her roam and dance across the night sky. He denied her, selfish and greedy for her light to himself. So bright was her light, he wanted to keep her beauty of silver flesh and hair for himself.” Bloodhound watched a start twinkle, “One day, the goddess wept again but she whispered to the tears as they dripped from her eyes, of the universe and adventure, of life and protection. The tears dripped from her cage and painted the halls with bright silver spots, blinding and glorious. Night returned to find her cage empty, the only remnants of his light the bright tears rolling from the stone and falling into the sky below, dancing over the blackness one by one, brightening the world with a glorious silver light. She danced that night, between her own tears, on pointed toes, jumping from light to light, causing the sky to twinkle with joy, even in the darkest of nights.” Bloodhound pointed to the North Star, “She wore a crown of stars, blessed in her freedom from her own tears, making constellations with her dances to defy the Night.”

You gazed in wonder at the sky, “What did they call this Goddess?”

Bloodhound chuckled, “Nothing. She was simply, the stars.” They gestured to the stars again, “I think there is beauty in that story. She was free with her own will to dance and defy all those that would work against her.” They sighed, “It was my favourite as a child.”

“I can see why. It is a beautiful tale.” You whispered, trying not to disturb the peace that had settled over the two of you, “Even if it started so sadly.”

“Not as wonderous as you.” Bloodhound whispered next to your ear as they turned their head, “I never thought the stories would pale in comparison, but the Gods seem an eon away when I gaze at you.” Carefully, they reached to remove their gloves before they shakily reached to touch at your cheek, brushing their fingertips gently over your cheekbone. Bloodhound’s mouth parted as they followed the trail with their eyes. Their calloused hands touched your cheek and gently traced a path over your nose and then down to your chin, leaving a streak of heat in their wake, “It is blasphemy but I…” They swallowed, “I believe I love you. We have spent so much time together and you consume my mind no matter the task I undertake.”

Fire laced your veins as you pulled the tracker forwards to press your lips to theirs, kissing their soft, scarred lips with fervour enough to demonstrate your point. Bloodhound was frozen for a moment before they returned the kiss, their arms wrapping around your back tightly as their goggles dug into the bridge of your nose. You didn’t mind. You pushed against them with a hum before moving away. Bloodhound tried to chase your lips, breathing a little heavier, a wheeze emanating from their chest.

“I love you too.” You whispered, cupping their cheeks.

Bloodhound smiled crookedly again before they reached up and pushed their goggles away. Their cloth dipped a little to reveal their bright ginger hair, tamed in braids and clasps, but you didn’t touch it, you simply looked into their deep, dark brown eyes, amazed by the mix of red in the colour. Their eyes were almost maroon. You kissed Bloodhound again.

“You…” They eased back, “You do not care that I am…”

“You are Bloodhound, master of the hunt and the one I love.” You gushed as you held them tightly, burying your face in their clothing, “Nothing else matters. We can take our time with everything else.”

“I…Thank you, krúttið mitt. You mean so much to me.” They confessed with another soft peck to your lips.

“I love you, Bloodhound.” You confessed again, affirming it even to yourself, as though it was not real.

“I love you too, my darling.” Bloodhound whispered against your ear as you clutched each other under the furs, laid before the night sky.

The Stars twinkled across the central belt as the Goddess danced for the happiness that she had witnessed that night.

#bloodhound x reader #bloodhound x gender neutral reader #bloodhound #apex legends #bloodhound apex #apex legends bloodhound #bloodhound apex legends #reader insert #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #gender neutral reader

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lebuc · 3 years

Text

Minty

* uneasy living in the land of plenty; freed through skill & guile - (tho’ it's been quite a while...)

by someone named Minty, more commonly known as Harriet; her given 'de plumed' nom... surname: Tub-man.

aye - here's the rub, fam:

freedom, even today as stated, orated & delineated, implies a later state of high grace; a locale for the so-called freedkin to establish a place, a pace

an inner space to embrace the totality of that holy-rolled symbol, with just a thimble-full of respect & good will from being hunted, instead of Emmett's till of neglect;

else - it's naught but greasy swill, chasing the bitter pill of soul-plunder & the colossal belief blunder

in a conversion of hearts by some bill granting, not rights avowed & relief,

but a deeper immersion in the disallowed's plight - with much grief at the taut end of a rope.

today, there's no loss of hope lo, those many nights of despair, for the effervescence of daylight, clean hands & minted, fresh air

...or whatnot - for the strivings of souls surviving, still seeking for that pot at rainbow's end - with at least a chicken within & not that fool's gold, again. * 4/21 - lebuc - Minty

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trivialbob · 4 years

Photo

I have a thing for colorful, wacky, hand-inscribed beer labels. Whether it contains swill or a limited run, special edition, collector version aged in a wooden barrel once used as a hot tub by Jennifer Anniston and Amanda Peet, I like cans or bottles like the one pictured here.

The beer is good. Bonus points awarded having for a silly name: Juicy Booty IPA.

My son Matt brought this beer back for me from his trip to the US Virgin Islands. While he was there his employer needed to get a special tool Matt uses for work. Matt asked me to ship it to Massachusetts. He told me where the cardboard box was and gave me a FedEx account number.

The FedEx facility isn’t far from home so it was no big deal for me. The box was about 24″ cubed. It weighed as much as 19 mallards. (OK, I have no idea what such a duck weighs. Let’s just say the box wasn’t super light.)

The nice FedEx employee took the shipping info and account number. He weighed and measured the box. “When do you want this delivered?” I chose noon delivery for the next day.

He printed a receipt for me. $466.06. Holy shit.

After Matt got back from his trip (and I drank that beer) I asked if his company was upset at the cost of shipping that package. He said no. The device is worth many times that amount so it’s not like they would just buy a new one. That shipping price was not unusual for his company to pay.

He added, “But they would have preferred you had selected the early morning First Overnight delivery.

That would have cost even more. Geeze, next time I’ll drive it there myself and they can pay me.

For reference: Two mallards.

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esperwatchesfilms · 4 years

Text

Almost Famous (2000)

I’ve seen this one exactly once, and I barely remember it. Here we go!

Rule number 1 of being a rock journalist: Never become friends with the rock stars.

God, I love Fairuza Balk. The most underrated star of the 90s and early 2000s.

The Enemy is a cute nickname. I love it.

God, Jeff’s the worst sometimes. He’s so whingy.

“You are home.”

I love that this kid is in the tub writing notes.

“Be bold and mighty forces will come to your aid.” - Goethe

Penny: Maybe it is love, as much as it can be for somebody-- William: Who sold you to Humble Pie for 50 bucks and a case of beer? I was there. I was there. ... ... oh, god. I’m sorry. Penny: What kind of beer?

I know his mother wanted him to graduate, but he obviously wants to write, and he’s been hired to write for Rolling Stone. I feel bad for her, but her dream for him is unfair.

Penny’s real name is excellent. She should’ve kept it, honestly.

The electrical storm freaks me out so much. I hate it.

I do, however, love the confessions time.

Penny was naïve as hell, but she was wise to send Russell to William.

ESE: 90/100

50 +5 for handwritten opening credits +5 for “This is a house of lies!” -5 for mishandling vinyl +6 for “The Enemy” +2 for “swill merchants” +5 for Sapphire reassuring The Enemy’s mother +10 for Sapphire being so dedicated to relaying the message to William from his mother that she runs into a wall -5 for Jeff’s T-shirt meltdown +10 for Tiny Dancer moment +5 for quoting Goethe +5 for Penny Lane’s whimsy -10 for Russell’s affair with Penny +2 for William’s tumble +5 for Lady Goodman -10 for electrical storm +5 for “It’s all happening.” +5 for confessions time -5 for Russell denying after telling William, “Write what you want” +10 for Penny sending Russell to William -5 for going to Morocco without William

#Almost Famous #Kate Hudson #Zooey Deschanel #Philip Seymour Hoffman #Anna Paquin #Jimmy Fallon #Jay Baruchel #Patrick Fugit #Fairuza Balk #Billy Crudup #adventure #comedy #drama #music #movies #films #reviews #world record #Jason Lee

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jaketeachesdeath · 3 years

Text

Today we've been sorting the Sparrows with remaining flesh on.

Pic 1 was the over night soak

Pic 2 is the system of tubs we have on the go, bottom right is the over night soak, bottom left is the clean water for swilling before handling and the top is a fresh batch of peroxide

Pic 3 is how they look now, not finished but certainly better

08/08/21

#animal skull #bones #curiosities #oddities #skull #skull collecting #taxidermy #vulture culture #vulture culture uk #bone #bone cleaning #bone processing #sparrow skull

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the-dead-skwad · 4 years

Text

Lost Part 1 X Daryl Dixon X Reader

It’s been a while but I’m back with a Walking Dead fic. So happy I’m back into this. There’s going to be at least 2 more parts to this I hope.

Sumarry: On the farm your making yoruself ill searching for the missing.

Warnings: Missing child. Swearing.

The leaves and twigs crunched under your feet as you stepped through the woods. The light of the sun slowly setting making it harder to see around you. You followed your own tracks back to the farm.

As you reached the perimeter you wave to Andrea who was posted on the RV roof. Just to let her know you weren't a walker. She waved back so you headed to your own tent.

You had put it further away from everyone else. Due to recent events you decided being friends with people wasn't an option. You weren't stupid, you knew exactly what the world was like now and everyone you loved would eventually die. It was always like this, in fact you were close to many of the group back at the first camp. But things change, people change.

You sat outside your tent on a small log, taking out your gun to clean it. "You know you can't keep doing this." Daryl's voice came from just ahead of you.

"There's two girls out there missing. You think for one second I'm gonna stop, you can think again."

"You can't just push every one away." His voice was so soothing to you but like you said, no friends.

"And what are you doing? You go out there as much as I do, you have your tent further away than me." You looked down "Rick lost Sophia, I know that.... But Emily. That's my fault."

He sat down next to you "It's not your fault Y/N. You can't blame yourself."

"Then who do I blame? She is the only family I have left and I lost her. The heard came and she was right next to me, then all of a sudden she was gone. You don't understand the fear I feel every day knowing she could be out there, crying asking herself why I haven't found her. Why I left her down." Tears formed in your eyes. You hadn't shown how broken you were even though everyone already knew.

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. "This is not how you find her, look at you. You don't eat. You don't sleep. From sunrise to sunset you're out there. You're going to get ill or hurt." He placed his hand under your chin and turned you at face him. With a rough course thumb he wiped a tear from your cheek."Please Y/N they care about you. Hell I care about you."

You spent a good 30 seconds looking into his eyes. You could see all the pain he felt. Without another thought you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. He was taken aback at first but then he kissed you back. His stubble scratched your face but his lips were so soft.

You were lost in the moment until suddenly you snapped back to reality. Pulling away he looked confused. "Daryl I'm sorry." You stood to go back to your tent.

"Wait.." He took hold of your hand. "What you doin?"

"I didn't mean to do that’s. I was just upset. I'm sorry but I can't." You stepped into your tent and zipped it up behind you. You could hear the grass as he walked away. You lay back on your camp bed "Fuck." You sighed.

Opening your eye it was actually day light. "Oh shit!" You sat bolt up right, swung your feet off the bed and pulled your boots on. Usually you would wake up before sunrise so you could get as much time out searching as you could. You were still absolutely exhausted, you had spent most of the night staring at the top of your tent thinking about what Daryl had said.

Your grabbed all your things and rushed out the tent. Looking over to the other tents you could see Lori, Andrea, Maggie and Carol all together putting the washing out.

It took you a moment but you knew you had lost the morning. There wasn't going to be enough day light to get as far as you wanted to go. You put some things back in the tent, water bottle, jacket and you hid your gun. Hershel was still insisting no guns.

Walking over to the women you realized how dirty you looked compared to them. "Hey." You approached them hoping they wouldn't hate you for shutting away.

"Hey." Lori looked at you concerned "How are you feeling?"

"I'm pretty tired but I'm alright." You looked at the basket of clothes on the floor "I would help but..." You held out your arms, they were covered is cuts and bruises. Some of the cuts were so fresh they were still bleeding. "I don't want to mess up the clothes."

"Oh sweetheart." Carol put down what she was doing and walked to you. She took a closer look at your hands. "Please, go up to the house. Get yourself cleaned up and I'll make you something to eat."

"Oh no, Carol. You don't have to do that. I'm fine."

"No you aren't" She was putting on her mom voice "You spend all day everyday looking for our daughters. This is the least I can do."

"I..." Looking at the others you could tell there was no point in arguing "Okay. Thank you but please know you don't owe me anything."

Maggie walked to you "Come on, I'll walk up with you."

You both headed to the house, it was silent for a minute "Ermm I'm sorry if I have come off so standoff ish."

"What you talking about?"

You stopped outside the door so you could talk to her "Ever since Emily and Sophia went missing I just shut down. I came to your home and I didn't even say thank you or bother to make any sort of friends."

"Don't be silly. What you are going through is unthinkable. You are more than welcome here." She walked you through the house. "This is the bathroom. Leave your clothes out here and I can bring you some clean ones. I'll get my dad to check you over just to make sure."

You smiled for the first time in a long time "Thank you."

Stepping into the water it was freezing, all your cuts stung like you were bathing in lemon juice. The water was almost black when you had finished. You cleaned the tub out and went into the next room. Some of your clothes were laid out on the bed. You hadn't seen these clothes since the fall of the first camp.

You went down to the kitchen where Carol was. "Thank you again. You're too nice."

"Oh shut up and sit down." She placed a plate in front of you, full of all sorts of food and left you to it.

Your stomach grumbled for the first time in a long time. Tucking right in, after half the plate was gone you sat back for a second. Something didn't feel right. You ran to the sink and threw up everything you just ate.

"Shit!" You heard Lori from the other side of the room. She ran to you and pulled your hair back. "You okay?"

You wiped your mouth and swilled it out with water "I thought I was, but I guess not." Black spots wizzed around in your head and you fell to the ground.

Maggie had walked in too at that point, she saw you on the floor "I'll get dad."

Spread across the bed you were sweating all hell out. Hershel was looking at the wounds on your arm. He looked at you with a look of annoyance. "Some of these are infected, that’s why your sweating so much. I got something that will sort that right out, and you threw up because you didn't eat for so long then tried to eat everything."

You gave him an awkward smile. "Sorry, I guess I just switched off my entire body."

"I think when you sat down and actually gave your body a rest everything just caught up with you. Take these," He passed you the pills "Drink plenty of water and get some sleep. God knows you need it."

"Thank you." You watched him leave the room.

Maggie sat on the edge of the bed next to you. "You gonna listen to him right?"

"I'll stay in here for a few days but as soon as I'm okay I'm going back out there."

"Please, rest. You'll just make yourself more sick and then you'll be no use at all."

You rolled your eyes "Fine." You noticed the sun was starting to go down. You must have passed out for a while. "Have you seen Daryl today?"

Lori had heard you as she came down the hall. "He left this morning, about the time you usually leave. He's not back yet." She stood in the doorway.

"Shouldn't he be back by now? What if he's hurt?" The panic in your voice was obvious.

"He says the same thing about you most days. It's Daryl, he'll be fine."

Maggie grabbed your hand "Stop panicking. You'll only make yourself feel worse."

As if on que a gunshot rang through the farm. "I'll go." Lori ran down the hallway and out the house.

Maggie saw the look on your face "It's probably just a walker. I'll have a look for you." She went to the window and looked around. "Oh shit."

"What?" You sat bolt upright in bed "What is it?"

"Stay here." She ran out the room.

You sat there looking around. "What the fuck?" You said to yourself.

You heard the front door open and a commotion coming up the stairs. "Get him in there!" Rick was shouting over all the noise.

"I'm sorry I thought he was a walker! Is he going to be okay?" Andrea cried out.

You got up out of bed and walked to the door way, your legs felt they they were going to give out under you and your head was spinning. Through blury eyes you saw them carrying Daryl into the room just down from you. Your heart fell to your stomach. Holding onto the wall you forced your self to them. "What happened?" No one was listening to you. "Let me through!" Pushing past everyone you got to the door. He lay on the bed unconscious.

Hershel turned to look at you "You should be in bed."

"I'm not worried about me right now."

You knelt down at the side of the bed and held onto his hand. "I'm sorry." You whispered only to him.

"The bullet just skimmed him but he has a puncture wound I need to stitch. You need to go back to your bed." He wasn't having any of your shit.

Maggie walked behind you and helped you up. You kissed the back of his hand and walked back with her. Walking past everyone they all looked at you weird.

She helped you back onto the bed "So... Daryl huh?"

"I don't know what you mean." You smiled a little.

"What happened if you don't mind me asking."

You sighed "We kissed and then I told him I didn't want him. Which is a huge lie."

"And why would you do that?"

"I thought if we got close then something would happen to him and I can't take much more death."

She sat next to you and held your hand softly "I'm afraid that's life now."

"I guess he got hurt anyway.. I should have just told him how I felt." You whole body was acing.

"There's time for that."

"I hope so." You closed your eyes so stop your head spinning. You could feel her stroking your hair slightly.

Sitting straight up you breathed heavy, tears coming down your cheeks. Another nightmare about Emily. You wished you could shut your brain off for a minute. Catching your breath you looked around the room, it was pitch black and you were all alone. For once You didn't want to be.

Placing your feet on the wooden floor you made sure to make no noise. Trying your hardest to make sure the floorboards didn't squeak you headed down to Daryl. You stood in the doorway for a short while, he looked so peaceful even if he was banged up.

You were about to turn back when you head his gruff voice, "Hey."

You smiled "Hi."

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I could say the same to you." You walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, I was a real asshole the other night."

"Don't be dumb. Now come here." He held his arm up.

You lay on the bed and put your head on his chest. Without saying anything else you both fell asleep together.

It had been a few days and both of you were on your feet and back helping on the farm. The only person who knew about you two was Lori because she found you both asleep together.

You were helping Lori go through all the clean washing. Daryl sat not far from you sharpening his knife, the sun bounced of the muscles on his arms.

"Y/N!" Lori snapped you out of your day dream "You with us?"

"What? Yeah sorry." You carried on with the washing. She just laughed at you.

You took a moment to have a look around. Everyone was there for each other and for the first time in a long time you felt some hope. But all came crashing down when Glenn approached the group, his face full of worry. "There's walkers in the barn."

#The Walking Dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #daryl reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fanfiction #Lori Grimes #maggie greene #hershel greene #Rick Grimes

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