#kb writes

[softsnzstuff]

Best friends/bandmates who can pick up on when one of them isn’t feeling well.

Noticing the slight lag in a guitar riff or the drummer suddenly out of breath from short sets. The slight rasp and strain in the singers voice as they try to hit certain notes.

When they’re ultra helpful and will warn the fans ahead of time that the one member is in a foul mood because of it or won’t be present because they’re ill.

Simultaneously urging them back to bed because they care while also joking not to get the rest of them sick (despite the close quartered tour bus conditions). Setting them up in a sick bunk or designated corner of the bus.

Bonus: maybe if the singer has a sneezing fit during practice or sound check, the drummer will joke around and put a beat behind it to be stupid.

#sickfic prompts #sickfic thoughts #I am in fact thinking about certain people #because I’m so down bad for them rn LMAO #Kb writes #Kb speaks #snzblr #sickfic

[kookaburra1701]

Khemor gro-Skaven

(Portrait by @thana-topsy, full version here)

Race: Osh Ornim (Iron Orc) Sex: Male Birthdate (given): 1st Morningstar, 4E 161 (40 years old in 4E 201) Birthdate (actual): Unknown Birthplace: somewhere in the Dragontail Mountains. Places of Residence: Skaven, Hammerfell > Water's Edge, Cyrodiil > Windhelm, Skyrim

Former factions: College of Whispers Current factions: Stormcloaks, Thane of Windhelm and the Pale

Khemor’s story will be told in my Homeric Orcs Series.

Early life in Hammerfell

The Iron Orc who would eventually be known as Khemor gro-Skaven was barely five years old when he was stricken with Rockjoint. ("Common in little orc children." --Murbul) Although he survived the disease, it left one of his legs atrophied and partially paralyzed. His clan, a particularly brutal group of Osh Ornim, intended to abandon him in Dragonstar in Craglorn as they did not want to waste the resources of the stronghold raising a permanently disabled child.

Whether it was fate, the hand of the gods, or just coincidence, Khemir at-Arlimahera, a wizard from a prominent Crown family in Skaven was traveling through the area and encountered the abandoned child before any harm befell him. The wizard sensed Khemor had a deep well of magicka and even though he was completely untrained he was manipulating the ebb and flow of ambient magicka in the world.

From Nostos, Khemor's central fic, set after the Main Quest and conclusion of the Civil War:

“My master was a once-in-ten-generations intellect when it came to the ebb and flow of magicka, delving into the secrets of the arcane, and uncovering the mysteries of Oblivion. But he was at a loss when it came to choosing a name for an Orsimer foundling.”

Khemir brought Khemor up as his apprentice: while Skaven was more magically inclined than most places in Hammerfell, Khemir's studies focused on various forms of Mysticism that intersected with Necromancy. Thus Khemor learned to be very circumspect and discreet from an early age.

Because of the reputation of Iron Orcs as particularly brutal and unintelligent, Khemor views his heritage with a deep sense of shame, and was brought up almost completely divorced from larger Orc culture, even more so than most "city Orcs" as he lacks any connections to anyone living in a stronghold. Most non-Orcs or people who are not from the Dragontail mountains do not pick up on the indicators of his heritage, and most who do clock him are too polite to mention it.

However, he does have a particular fondness for unusual rocks and minerals, and picks up pretty ones whenever he finds them. He also prefers to use un-faceted Soul Gems.

The Great War came to Skaven in 4E 173 when Khemor was twelve years old:

In Hammerfell, Imperial fortunes took a turn for the better. In early 4E 173, a Forebear army from Sentinel broke the siege of Hegathe (a Crown city), leading to the reconciliation of the two factions. Despite this, Lady Arannelya's main army succeeded in crossing the Alik'r Desert. The Imperial Legions under General Decianus met them outside Skaven in a bloody and indecisive clash. Decianus withdrew and left Arannelya in possession of Skaven, but the Aldmeri were too weakened to continue their advance.

--Legate Justianus Quintius, The Great War

Despite "only" lasting two years, the Empire's abandonment of Hammerfell and subsequent Thalmor occupation of Skaven was very formative for Khemor. Both he and his master were able to weather the occupation, but it took a toll on both of them. Khemor especially was not able to recieve chiurgeons' services for his leg during that critical time, which meant that his leg was unable to make a complete recovery like they had hoped, and so he’s used a cane to walk for his entire life.

From Katabasis, the story that details Calder the housecarl's adventures alongside Khemor during Skyrim's MQ:

Khemor sighed. “To say that I was ‘in’ [The Great War] would be a grave misstatement. I was only a child. Rather, the war came to Skaven. I was living there when the…order for the Legions to abandon Hammerfell was given.” A look of immense sadness passed over Khemor’s face. “Many of the Legion, mostly Nords and native sons of Hammerfell, refused to abandon Skaven, and deserted to continue protecting us. It was futile, of course. They were overrun and the Dominion occupied the city for two years.” He looked again at Calder and said quietly, “I am well-acquainted with the cruelties the Thalmor visit upon the populace of the places where they have control.”

While Khemir's social position and influence protected their household somewhat during the occupation, it was not easy, and Khemir's health never truly recovered. Before he died in 4E 187, he helped Khemor secure a position in the College of Whispers in Cyrodiil, despite neither of them being particularly inclined towards the Empire. In appreciation for his loyal service to and care of Khemir during the final, ailing years of his life, Khemir's family gave Khemor several of his former master's magical heirlooms before he left for his new life in Cyrodiil.

One of Khemir's grandnieces currently runs the family estate, and she and Khemor are on friendly terms and communicate somewhat regularly.

Life in River's Edge

(Portrait by @thana-topsy, full version here.)

With his command of languages, he was able to perfect his chosen sub-field of necromancy: spirit-calling and speaking with the dead. After all, what is the use of summoning the shade of a long-dead person to answer your questions if you won't be able to understand each other? This ability led to Khemor rising quickly through the ranks of the College of Whispers, and his calm and pleasant demeanor meant he was often chosen to lead delegations to advise the Elder Council or other political entities in Cyrodiil.

It was because of this role that in the year 4E 201, when word came to the leaders of the College of Whispers that the Synod and the Thalmor were scheming to gain influence with the College of Winterhold in Skyrim, Khemor was chosen to travel to the far, frozen north of the Empire and attempt to establish a line of communication Archmage Savos Aren.

Because of the unstable political situation in Skyrim, once he was through the Pale Pass Khemor changed his Legion escort for one comprised solely of Fighters Guild mercenaries. His entourage left Helgen for Riften on the 14th of Last Seed, 4E 201. Khemor noted the unusual number of Legion soldiers stationed at such a small outpost, but thought nothing of it.

When the escort arrived in Riften, they learned of Ulfric's capture and escape and hear the first rumors of dragons returning. However, it isn't until a dragon is sighted flying over Lake Honrich into the Jerall Mountains that Khemor takes the reports seriously. For safety, a larger group of travelers gathered in Riften to travel to Windhelm, leading to a significant delay of Khemor's itinerary. During this time, he composes what will end up being his last piece of correspondence to his superiors in the College of Whispers, detailing what he has heard about the return of the dragons to Skyrim before the ad-hoc caravan sets out for Kynesgrove…

#hot orc summer #oc: khemor gro skaven #kb writes #kbs ocs #orsimer #orc #skyrim oc

[bumblebeatrice]

Kate "girlfriend material" Bishop (but make it hurt/fluff) — HAWKEYE (2021)

#i'm gonna make individual posts for the first and second gifs and do the entire scene for both #cause i love them and i could write novels about those scenes #kate bishop #kate bishop edits #marvel edits #marvel gifs #kate bishop gifs #hawkeye edits #hawkeye show #marveledits #mine #mine/gifs #mg/marvel #mg/marvel ladies #mg/kate bishop #mg/hawkeye show #mg/marvel shows #kb gm

[deiaiko]

The story of a little boy named Twenty-fifth Night.

Inspired by The Little Prince / Le Petit Prince

Written by @deiaiko Illustrated by @cheer-soli-art Betaed by @jusalilweird

There was a little boy who lived all his life in a dark and cold cave. He built a tower made of rocks, so tall in hopes of reaching the ceiling where light trickled down from between the cracks. It wasn't an easy task, for the sharp edges of the rocks easily made their marks on his unprotected skin. But for him, who had no one but himself and accepted pain as part of his life, it was nothing but a little itch.

A girl showed up from the other side, bathed in blinding light that the boy had never hoped to ever see in his life. Her hair was a lovely shade of gold and her face was littered with stars.

"I shall call you The Twenty-fifth Bam," The girl said, "for I have found you on this night."

"Night of the twenty-fifth," the little boy repeated. At that moment, he finally understood what it meant to be lonely, for he was no longer alone.

-----

The little boy came to enjoy her company, and for once, he felt content.

His day started when the girl came, and ended when the girl left, for he had nothing else to distinguish between day and night.

He learned what longing meant. He would be bursting with excitement the longer he waited, and he would feel sadder the longer he spent time with her.

-----

"I shall go and climb the tower myself," said the girl, countless nights later. "This place is not big enough for me. It doesn't have what I want."

It bewildered the little boy, for he was already content with only her presence. "What is it that you want?"

"At the top of the tower, just me and a massive sky with stars that twinkles as far as the eye can see." The girl said dreamily, and the little boy knew she had gone to a place where he couldn't reach.

"What's so good about it?"

"Because stars are supposed to be beautiful, no? That's reason enough."

"How can you say they're beautiful if you have never seen one?"

"Because I believe so."

The little boy didn't understand.

"Can't I come with you?" Because what would his cave become without the sun coming to chase away the darkness?

"No, Bam. The tower is too dangerous for you."

If it's dangerous for me, then wouldn't it be the same for you? The little boy wanted to say. But instead he asked, "Will you be happier then?" With a silent plea that she would say no.

"I will."

-----

The tower was a place the little boy could never have imagined. It was colorful yet blinding, vast yet crowded, and the fresh air smelled like doom.

The little boy had never felt so small. It was so overwhelming that he couldn't really register what he had done, until a firm hand took his and they ran.

The owner of that firm hand was just a boy like himself. Unlike the little boy however, he had hair the color of the vast sky, his steps were surer, and his eyes were sharper.

The blue haired boy extended his hand and smiled with all teeth, "Shake my hand, and we shall climb the tower together."

"Why me? I am weak. I will be of no use." The little boy shrunk away.

"It's no matter." The blue haired boy's eyes softened. "Your company is enough."

The little boy smiled and shakily took his hand.

-----

The little boy stood by the balcony, looking at the twinkling night sky above. Soon the last test would be held.

"Those lights up there, do you see them?" The little boy pointed at the light above to his blue haired companion.

"I do."

"I think they're lonely. So far above, out of reach and apart from each other." The little boy sighed wistfully. "Will you leave me too?"

"Why should I?" His companion tilted his head, finding the question very absurd.

"Because of the beautiful stars."

"Stars are nothing to me but a myth."

This time it was the little boy who tilted his head. "But aren't they beautiful?"

"I wouldn't know until I saw one."

That was something that the little boy could finally agree with.

"Then what does beautiful mean?" The little boy asked, curious.

"You." His companion said easily.  "I have seen a lot of pretty jewels, but none of them shine as pretty as your eyes. I have heard plenty of songs and played different instruments, but none of them brought as much joy as your laugh."

The little boy blushed at the compliment. "Then I shall laugh more often, so that the stars will envy me."

-----

The little boy ended up being the one to leave, not by his own volition.  He lost his companions, so what reason was there to laugh? What reason for him to be beautiful if there was no one to acknowledge it?

-----

After years of anguish and loneliness, the little boy finally got his companions back. But something was still lost. Something had changed. Yet the boy didn't know what that was. So as per usual, when his feelings were tangled and nothing seemed to make sense, he went to the balcony to seek the answers in the vast sky.

His blue haired companion noticed and decided to join him in silence. It was exactly like what they did all those years ago, yet it didn't feel the same.

"I love looking at the sky. Bright blue at day and deep blue at night, it's beautiful." The little boy said, when he noticed his companion's not so subtle glances. "It is beautiful because it always reminds me of you."

His companion blushed. "Is that so?"

The little boy smiled wistfully. "When I missed you, I would look at the sky."

"How often?"

"Every chance I got."

There was an unreadable expression on his companion's face. "All this time, I thought you were gone for good."

The little boy bowed his head, not knowing what to say.

"So even if you're standing next to me right now, it somehow feels as if you're still out of my reach." His companion confessed, and it broke the little boy's heart.

"Then, hold me! See that I'm right here, still within reach." The little boy looked at his companion, pleading and desperate. "And when you do, make me stay."

His companion cupped the little boy's cheeks that were streaked with tears. "I see. You're no longer the light that was hung up above."

"I am not." The little boy smiled. "I am The Twenty-fifth Night, and the lights are my friends."

#I was reading the book and felt compelled to write kb in its style #this piece has been in my draft since last year and I finally put a finishing touch to it 🥺💖 #thank you soli and ath for the enables and support #tower of god #tog #my fic #bam #baam #25th baam #25th bam #the 25th baam #the 25th bam #jue viole grace #khun #koon #khun a.a #khun aguero agnis #khunbam #koonbaam #bamxkhun #rachel

[bloo-the-dragon]

Little gift for @bitterkarmaa / @sinistershepherd inspired by their sams au!

#bloo writes stuff #fnaf #fnaf security breach #sun and moon show #sams servant sun #sams eclipse #karma's bitter #kb Rays #kb Eclipse

[bitterkarmaa]

Demonize

A short conversation between canon Eclipse and my own rendition, set after the most recent episode

“You know…this whole thing you have going? It won’t end the way you want it to.”

The table has already been marked with endless streaks of regression. Claws score the surface yet again, more as a distraction than a threat this time around. Clasped hands sit atop the other end, claws carefully tucked in on themselves, dented, worn knuckles on display in place of sharp, threatening talons. A singular amber eye gazes steadily at the trembling mass of orange and black metal across the room.

“Eventually, it’s bound to! Who do you think you are in the grand mass of this? You have no control over what happens in my dimension. You’re just another one of those goody-two-shoes copies that share none of my experiences, none of my thoughts, and none of my visions! Just like Solar! Is that what you are? Another Solar?” Twin white flames flash with fury, hands coming down to slam against the poor abused table in front of him.

No claws on him. Just hands. Just fingers.

“Another who?”

The other scoffs, pulling back from the table again with a hiss of frustration. “This is a waste of my time.”

Tattered rays shift, clicking as they retract and then push back out to their original positions. “You have all the time in the world. At least, until you’re brought back again. So…perhaps your pacing is pointless, hm?”

The more rabid of the two whirls around again, a snarl ripping itself from his throat. “You know nothing about me! Stop acting like you do!”

A slight smile, hidden by clasped hands. “I know you’re dead. Again. That’s all I need to know.”

Finally, that seems to hit something. He seems to wither, shrinking in on himself. His fingers curl into fists, as if he wishes to punch someone but knows there’s nothing around him that would give him the reaction he yearns for.

“And no one will mourn.”

A mad laugh rises, echoing around the room, seeming to soak into the very walls, filling the space with an uneasy tension. “And you? You would be mourned?! That’s a fucking jo-”

“I have been mourned.”

He falls silent, expression frozen in a sort of jealousy that some part of him must know he has no right to feel. The hand that he must’ve raised amidst his rant comes back down to rest on the table, this time more carefully. Carefully. Since when has he been careful? Is this alternative version of himself really getting to him this much? Surely not. Surely this is just a slip up of those pesky emotions he’s been feeling amongst his breakdowns.

“How?” He weakly lifts his head, white dotted gaze having dimmed with his fading vigor. His look-alike at the other end of the table unravels his hands from their place in front of him, leaning back in his chair.

“How was I mourned? Hm. Perhaps because my rampage was stopped before someone got killed.” His scarred face twists into a sneer, disgust crossing his expression before settling back into cool indifference.

“I wasn’t- I didn’t-” The other stutters, rays shrinking. He takes a step back, grimacing as if recounting all the things he’s done with a new outlook. Considering how much of it wasn’t required for him to succeed.

“But you did. You were. Was being abandoned worth all the pain you caused others, worth all the pain it caused you?” The faint glow of his single functioning eye is dimmed as he narrows it, stare turned to glare in a matter of seconds.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?! Wouldn’t you?! Or was it only me that was left behind? Was it only me that he cast out like a pesky bug? Only me that became the parasite?!” His shouts of anger quickly turn to anguish, hands coming up to pull on his rays, lost in the torrent of emotions that stir within him, bottled up for far too long.

A frown settles on the face of the more dapper of the two. “We’ve all been parasites. That seems to be the one common denominator between each dimension.”

The room is silent for a few moments after that, the agitated one finally taking a seat in the chair that was provided for him.

“You don’t get it.” He mutters, earning a sharp bark of laughter from across the table.

“No, I do. I understand more than you know. I just haven’t been forced to ‘understand’ as many times as you have.”

The other looks away, brilliant white eyes cast down to the floor. “I didn’t want to come back. Lunar killing me again was a bit of a blessing, honestly.”

He looks up again as the screech of the chair being pushed back echoes around the room, steady footsteps approaching him not long after. His eyes meet the half-gaze of his brutally scarred counterpart, slight horror crossing his face as he takes him in.

“Yet you continued to demonize yourself. Why is that?”

“I…don’t know.” The other answers honestly, face set in confusion.

“Do you wish to change?”

“Some part of me does. Some part of me doesn’t. I just…don’t know how, I suppose.”

“Would you like to try?”

He is silent for only a few moments before letting out a quiet admission. “Yes.”

Slight surprise alights within his chest as a single clawed hand is offered out to him, the other tucked neatly in one of his pants pockets.

“Then how about we get started?”

#karma’s bitter #karmas bitter but so am i #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #kb eclipse #sams eclipse #sams au #just getting back into the swing of writing my son #I missed him #but I RETURN #with an offering for those still grieving

[the-blind-geisha]

You're the Inspiration - Chapter 7

King Boo huffed at the remark, spinning around to where he was face-to-face with her. “It was only one time, princess!”

The woman closed her eyes, scrunching up her face as the hot air from his maw felt like a humid gale attempting to knock her over. “How about I tell you what you wish to know while I ask for information as well, King Boo.”

The boo’s lip raised slightly, exposing a row of jagged teeth in the process as he tried to figure her out. “Oh? And what is it you wish to know?”

“I’m aware even one such as yourself has heard about the children disappearing from Darkshire.”

That again.

King Boo knew it was coming given their exchange prior, but he hoped she wouldn't instantly point the finger at him. He wanted to answer in angered protest but he paused—his mind whirling with ideas. “Very well,” he said, his tone subdued. “I’ll allow that the moment you help me achieve what I need. Do we have a deal?”

Princess Peach assumed that was him wanting answers from her about something regarding Bowser. That sounded fair enough. “Deal.”

The king smirked, turning away from her as he headed down the corridor leading her to somewhere in particular in the mansion. “Enough beating around the bush then. I have a woman here in my care.”

Peach felt a bit stunned by that. “A woman? A human woman?”

“Yes.”

Her fingers curled near her chest, wishing she had some sort of item to arm herself with in order to free this woman. “You’re not… going to kill her, are you?”

King Boo sighed exasperatedly. “Half the time I wonder if you humans even know a damn thing about boos and myself with how you behave.”

Chapter 7

#king boo #king boo/reader #king boo x reader #reader insert #smb #super mario bros #princess peach #king boo nintendo #nintendo king boo #luigi's mansion #gonna turn KB into nothing but a dude who constantly makes deals #as he appears to be a gambler #or constantly in gambler like areas #fanfiction #mario bros fanfic #mywriting #oreana writes

[melmedardasworld]

A forbidden secret

Bonnie seeks out Klaus in New Orleans to share life-altering news that complicates their strained relationship, but also shake the foundations of the supernatural community.

Bonnie's heart remained heavy in her stomach as she stood in front of the double doors. The young witch fought the urge to wrung her clammy hands together for the nth time and ran them along her sides instead. "C'mon, Bonnie, get over yourself; this is more important than you or him." Firming her resolve, Bonnie reached for the handle and knocked on the compound's doors.

After what felt like an eternity, the door finally swung open, and Klaus stood on the threshold. His expression was relaxed but guarded. It wouldn't surprise Bonnie that Klaus had sensed her presence and waited until she knocked.

"Bonnie Bennett," Klaus greeted in a calm tone. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We need to talk." Bonnie was glad her voice remained despite her heartbeat rising in her chest.

"Do we now?" Klaus's voice dropped an octave and turned even colder.

Bonnie overlooked the subtle bite in his tone. She kept reminding herself, again, that this wasn't about her in the end. It wasn't even about Klaus, no matter the conversation's outcome. It was about something more significant than them. Klaus deserved to know the truth. Whether he accepted it or not wouldn't change her decision. "Yes, it's something important that involves both of us."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, sensing the anxiety and distress coming off Bonnie in waves no matter how hard she tried to hide it. He'd gotten wind of her presence the instant she set foot in his city. Klaus's first response was to meet Bonnie head-on. He stopped himself. Klaus returned home, ordered everyone, including Elijah, to leave, and waited for the little witch at the compound instead. He wouldn't chase her like some pathetic fool when their time together meant nothing to her. It was his oversight to expect the finer feelings that slowly slipped through their well-built alliance to grow into something more.

Finally, a smile that never reached his eyes settled on Klaus's lips. "Very well." He pulled the heavy door open and stepped aside, gesturing for Bonnie to enter. Klaus watched her pass and pressed his lips together as a grating sensation clawed against his core.

For Bonnie, nostalgia washed over her. She had left this place behind, along with her feelings for Klaus, but now everything felt as raw and painful as it did the day she departed. The memories of the time she spent in New Orleans with Klaus and their families came flooding back, but she quickly pushed them aside when Klaus turned around and offered her a seat while he stood. His piercing blue eyes penetrated her soul, but she again firmed against the visceral emotions from peeking through.

Standing tall on the opposite end, Klaus watched Bonnie shift in her seat. Her eyes flickered around the room, and she wrung her hands together repetitively. The strain in her jaw muscles flexed while chewing her lips. Despite Bonnie's efforts to come across as calm, Klaus felt the anxiety radiating from her. He recognized the expression on her face all too well; it was the look of someone carrying a heavy burden, struggling to find the right words to express themselves. Klaus leaned forward, his intense gaze fixed on Bonnie's face, and remarked. "Surely, you took the time to prepare yourself for this moment?" His remark was mocking. "Else, you and your cousin wouldn't have set up that honeypot for my brother."

Bonnie's mouth fell slack before shutting it again. She frowned. "Don't be crass. Given how they left things off, Lucy wants to talk to Elijah."

Klaus chuckled, but again the authenticity of the feelings didn't pass on to his face. "Similar to how you want to talk about this important thing that involves the both of us? Bonnie, I have an empire to rule, so stop these petty games."

#bonnie bennett #klonnie #klaus mikaelson #my attempt to write the revelation of kb baby #bit of angst but what else is new

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday - A Line-storm Song

tagged by @elfinismsarts @thana-topsy 💚 @viss-and-pinegar @thequeenofthewinter

I am tagging @gilgamish @greyborn2 @dirty-bosmer @skyrim-forever @totally-not-deacon @mareenavee @paraparadigm @polypolymorph

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Genre: Old👏Men👏Yaoi👏 Pairing: Pavo Attius/Gat gro-Shargakh

Summary: Pavo and Gat weather a spring storm in the Reach.

My brain has revolted against only working on Aristeia during NaNoWriMo and I compromised by working on this one-shot which takes place in the same 'verse. I needed to let these two Married Forever guys fuck. And oh boy are they. Excerpt below is not explicit.

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

“Rain’s coming,” Gat said, leaning against the smelter as Pavo stepped out of the shadows of Kolskeggr mine. Pavo blinked a little in the late afternoon sun. The golden rays were illuminating white pillars of clouds in the east, only the deep purple shadows beneath them hinting at the possibility of inclement weather.

“I suppose I’ll do the evening chores early then,” Pavo said, moving to stand next to Gat. “Get Juniper settled before the tempest.”

Gat slipped his arm around Pavo’s waist, and Pavo leaned into his comforting bulk. Even after twenty years, his touch never failed to send a thrill down Pavo’s spine.

“I’ll finish up here, get everything secured against the wind,” Gat said against Pavo’s ear, his large tusks tracing the corner of Pavo’s jaw.

“Gat, I’m disgusting, at least wait until I’ve rinsed off!” Pavo yelped as Gat turned and took hold of him with both hands, pulling him close.

“Mmmm, if a little mine dust was a problem—” Gat buried his face in Pavo’s neck while Pavo laughed and tried to push him away. “—I don’t think my people would be nearly as numerous as they are.” He gave Pavo’s neck a final nip before releasing him.

“You’re insatiable,” grumbled Pavo. When he turned to head down the path to their cottage, Gat’s laughter followed him.

The chickens allowed him to drive them into their coop with the bribe of some kitchen scraps, but Juniper, their mule, brayed her protest when he came to collect her from her picket, despite the bucket of oats and corn he rattled at her.

“I know it’s early old girl. But you’ll be glad of the roof and walls tonight, mark my words. Don’t go kicking them down if the thunder gets loud, now.”

As he puttered around the small barn, Pavo heard the front door to the cottage open and shut several times. As he was filling the water trough, Gat appeared in the doorway, wearing a clean shirt with water droplets clinging to the fuzz of his shaved head.

“I left a towel and some clean clothes by the river for you,” Gat said.

“Oh? I thought the dirt was an Orc aphrodisiac,” Pavo said archly. “I’m getting mixed messages here.”

“Smelling like ore is one thing, smelling like Juniper is another.”

“Don’t listen to him Juniper, you smell wonderful.”

Gat laughed, and turned to leave. “I’ll get supper started. Don’t take too long—hey!” He whirled and Juniper brayed and tossed her head at his shout. Pavo just grinned back at him, trying to look entirely innocent and like someone who would never dream of pinching an Orc’s arse.

Shaking his finger at Pavo, and walking backwards until he was well out of range, Gat retreated back to the cottage.

#kolskeggr mine #fic: a line-storm song #pavo attius #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim #tesblr #wip wednesday #kb writes #orc posting hours #it's not easy being green #orc #hot orc summer #hot orc always #gat gro-shargakh

[theinfinitedivides]

yk you've f*cked sh*t up when the regular gifmakers for this drama are so depressed they're not even making content for the beach kiss

#tv: heartbeat #kbs heartbeat #kbs2 heartbeat #heartbeat 2023 #heartbeat kdrama #가슴이 뛴다 #gaseumi ttwinda #my heart is beating #my heart beats #ok taecyeon #ok taec yeon #2pm taecyeon #taecyeon #won ji an #kdrama #local gay watches k-dramas.txt #we do not revive. forget what the OST says it isn't true #they said this is a rom-com and then failed to rom-com properly #they really took this show and massacred it. look what they did to my boy he's unrecognizable now #once again the weight falls on the fic writers to fix the sh*tty writing. when will it stop God pls i f*cking can't

[firesteel-eden]

Look, I was inspire okay?

The queen in the North would be the only love — romantic or not, Bran did not care — that Jon Snow never betrayed (…) I am hers and she’s mine. “Protect her, look over her, for me” — sneak peek of next chapter of KBFKBSII

I love weaving Jonsa into Firesteel, and I love bleeding that kind of love into the passion Aemond and Sansa share.

As always, song and the plot you recognise are of their own owners, only my plot is mine.

Sending all my love ~G.

#firesteel #aemondsa #sansaemond #kissed by fire ~ kissed by steel #firesteel brainrot #firesteel fandom #aemond/sansa #aemondxsansa #firesteel content #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen/sansa stark #firesteel fic #aemond x sansa fanfiction #writing #aemond one eye #firesteel stories #firesteel story #kbf~kbs #kissed by fire~kissed by steel #firesteel fandom is incredible #jonsa #Jonsa bleeding into firesteel

[bitterkarmaa]

Rubbing on Eclipse like a cat rn

#I am #so happy #my boy is back #might actually watch the show again #idk #the writing has been iffy #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #i just hope they don’t mess this up #like?? #let my man be good #plz #maybe this is the original? #like the FIRST #the one who might’ve gone to the forest to rot🫣 #LIKE KB ECLIPSE BUT STILL ANGY??

[solesommerso]

╭➸・⊹ more often ♡ ⋆｡˚⁺

|| Hank Voight x Kim Burgess x Dante Torres x Reader

♡ summary ; just an early morning with your partners in bed

♡ notes ; @blathannabeaga this turned into pure fluff whoops

♡ background ; established hank/reader

────────────────────────

-

You're still a little unsure of how you got here, in this odd halfway relationship with your co-workers. You thought it was weird enough when you started dating Hank, your boss, but then Kim came into the mix and now so is Torres. It’s not like you’re complaining, god no, it’s just something to think about as you lay in bed.

Dante’s all but crushing Hank right now, still drooling onto Voights sleep shirt and unmoving in his unconscious state. Then Kim cuddles into your side to reach an arm over your middle and brush her fingers at Hanks ribs that aren’t covered by Torres’ arm. Hank smiles at the small touch and lets out a content sigh in the early morning peacefulness.

“Comfortable babe?” You can’t help but ask, tipping your head up on Voights shoulder to gaze at his smile.

“Very, it’s nice when the three of you get to spend the night.” You hum in agreement.

While you and Hank almost always share a bed, Dante gets stuck staying later at work or helping his mom with stuff, and Kim has to take Makayla some days or even just help Adam fix up the house they share. So times like last night where all you did was eat dinner Dante prepared then watch a movie Kim picked out are cherished, especially when it leads to the four of you piling into Hanks bed for the night and getting to wake up together.

“We should try and do it more often.” Kim’s voice is half awake but you run a hand through her hair with a nod.

“Definitely.” The three of you let out a small chuckle at how muffled Dante’s voice is from where he’s got his head stuffed against Hank. But yeah, you do want to do this more.

#writing #hank voight/kim burgess/dante torres/reader #chicago pd #hank voight #kim burgess #dante torres #kb #dt #hv

[kagedbird]

OOuughghhhh how do I write Dumzbthar without bringing up Miraak yet

#KB Rambles #It is not narratively time for sad pathetic meow meow to enter the stage. #But when you sleep you end up at a stone #ooughghghghh why am i such a problem child for writing #TESSDE