#Corner wash basin with cabinet

[raajrajasharma]

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[fandom-monium]

Sweet Poison - Part 5

Summary: In which you avoid Zagreus, until one day you can't. "What can I say? The life of a demon is a hard one."

WC: 2.4k

TW: Zagreus (Hades Video game) x Succubus!Reader, GN!Reader, a succubus AND an artist bc sex is just work and food, au where in game Zag commissions the paintings using gems, what if boons actually affected Zagreus, slow build, strangers to friends to lovers trope, sex work, fluff, fluff and humor, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild angst, pheromones (technically it’s succubi magic aura), Zagreus is at least 6 ft convince me otherwise, eventual smut, MINOR descriptions of blood and injuries. Physical touch, affection. Just Zagreus being soft and doting and kind to you this chap

Damn her, damn her, damn her, damn—

Teeth clenched, your vision swims as you grip the rim of the basin for balance, washing off the blood as red drops swirl and mix like watercolor paints before the water clears again. It’s days like this where you wish you can get stronger, more powerful, but there’s a limit to everyone’s full potential, and unfortunately you met yours a long time ago.

Still, it’d be nice.

Contrary to popular belief, succubi can be vicious warriors, they’re simply in their own class. Their abilities, their magic, while never measuring up to gods, could ruin an army in a master’s hand, but it has its limits. Especially amongst demonkind.

As the water calms, you grind your teeth at the sight of your reflection, assessing the damage. Blood and darkness, that’s going to bruise, that one’s definitely going to scar, and you curse the universe because your job’s about to get that much harder now that you may have to use a glamor. Oh, you swear next time you get your hands on her, you’ll—

A resounding rumble quakes the room.

Your chamber door.

You curse. But you're sluggish from the blood loss, and before you can hurl yourself out the balcony, Zagreus steps in without his usual greeting, panting and laurels slightly askew, like he rushed in knowing you’re here. Wild eyes dart to every corner of the chamber, as if he half-expects you to be hiding, until they fall on you, embarrassingly hunched over your healing fountain.

One glance at your battered face, he’s beside you in a flash.

"Zag—”

“What happened?” His tone is surprisingly strained as his hands, clean of blood and gore, reach for you. Then something flickers across his face that makes him hover, his eyes—red and green and wide—taking in your new wounds with horror.

If only you had the energy to cower, shield your bruised face. He’s the last person you want to see right now, and your vision blurs, hating how he of all people is seeing you like this—broken, imperfect.

“I’m fine, Zagreus,” You croak, your voice quiet as you swallow your insecurity like bile. A poor attempt to put some distance between you, you try to step aside, but your knees buckle, and before you know it, you crumple like a house of cards.

Of course, Zagreus catches you—asshole—strong, lean arms gentle as he hugs you to his chest, holding you up as if you’re the most precious of gems. Hate how quick you are to relax in his hold, clay in his hands. Blood and darkness, it’s so easy, so quick, so… right.

You squirm against him, but his grip tightens slightly, mindful of your injuries.

“Sure you are,” Zagreus snorts, though he gazes down at you so soft and sweet you want to shout, wondering if he tastes the same. “Come on, I’ll patch you up.”

Unable to protest, you let him carry you like a rag doll, limp in his hands before he gently props you up on the lounge chair. You lean against the back with a groan. “Really, I'm—”

“'Fine', yes, you’ve said that,” Already, he’s rummaging through your cupboards, at least the ones he knows aren’t filled with art supplies. “Do you have bandages?”

“… Second last cabinet on your left.”

Without a word, he walks through your chamber with self assurance, maneuvering around your easel and stepping over splayed out canvas as they finish drying, careful where to leave his burning footprints. He finds what he’s looking for easily enough, a moment later pulling up a chair and plopping down in front of you. His hands are methodical as he lays everything out; two bowls of water, a small cloth, and the saddest little first aid kit.

In your defense, you hardly end up like this.

You watch his hands as he dips the towel in the water then wrings it out, before gently dragging it across your exposed arms. You flinch as he begins wiping off the grime.

“I know,” His tone is soft, terribly understanding as he continues. “Give it a minute, you’ll feel much better soon.”

You want to snort, snap at him that you’re fully aware of how it works, but the cool sting of water, the mild burn from the open gashes and cuts along your skin, is quick to clench your jaw shut. Pain ebbs across your body, and you watch him speechless, the rhythm he follows, painfully gentle as he drags the cloth across your skin, careful not to aggravate your wounds. Clean water, wring out, wipe, rinse, repeat; he even goes out of his way to change the water, and the relief that comes after would make you sink into the couch, if not for Zagreus's silence.

He's yet to say a word since he entered. He'd asked you already, yes, but you take him for someone who doesn't give up that easily. You expected more of a fight. Now, you're not so sure.

"Zagreus, I… I—" It's hoarse, hardly above a whisper, but it's a start.

You feel him pause before choosing to lay into your newfound cowardice like a wet blanket, avoiding his eyes. Who knows what you'll do if you meet his gaze.

Sensing your hesitation, Zagreus clears his throat, "Perhaps you should save your energy. We can chat when you're healed."

You shake your head, though it only makes the room spin. "No, I need to tell you this now. Before..."

"Before what? You start avoiding me again?" He resumes, wrapping gauze around your forearm, his touch ghosting your skin as he holds your arm out. There’s no malice or respite in his tone, soft and withdrawn as it comes, but you wince. If anything, it’s bittersweet, with an acceptance he long held before he approached your chamber, and it leaves your heart clenching. You don't know how to respond. Are you that obvious?

"(Your Name)... did I do something wrong?"

You blink, whirling to face him.

Zagreus bites his lip, emotions he can’t fathom threatening to spill out of him. That's always been his flaw, according to Father. He's attuned to his emotions, more than Nyx, Father, literally any of the chthonic gods. He stares as his hands tremble, attempting to knot the bandage. "Because if I did, please just tell me what it is so I can make things right between us."

"No-no, you've done nothing wrong," You assure him, sitting up through the pain even when Zagreus protests. When he raises a brow at your answer, you rush to add, "I swear! I've been busy with... work." Technically, this isn’t a lie.

"... 'Busy'. Is that how you got these?" Zagreus holds out your mangled arm by your hand, flicking his eyes over your body in the way you hate most. You'd take aura-induced desire over this: pity, disgust.

You wrench your arm away, cradling it in your lap and shrugging. "What can I say? The life of a demon is a hard one."

"(Your Name), who did this?"

You freeze. Nerves go haywire, and you squirm under his piercing gaze, burning through you as you contemplate lying to him, but you know better. At this point, you know each other too well, and—blood and darkness—he'll see right through you. There’s a defeated sigh, then a quiet, "Alecto."

Zagreus's eyes darken, but you wave him off. "Don't worry. In her defense, I kind of deserved it."

Zagreus sputters, taken aback, staring at you as if you offended him. "'Don't worry'? Don't—how can you say that? First I've seen you in days, and you're—" A sharp intake of breath, and he clenches his jaw so hard you're surprised it doesn't break.

"It's not a big deal. I disobeyed direct orders, and..." You trail off, thinking back.

Since meeting Zagreus, seeds of doubt sprout in your chest, in your lungs, suffocating you as you question the system you’ve worked under for so long. You’ve never questioned who you are and what you do, not to say you love your job, but it’s your life. Yet who’s to say there aren't poor souls sentenced to the wrong level? Genuine and kind, noble and passionate—people who don't deserve eternal damnation.

The possibility of your victims being innocent and undeserving makes you want to hurl, tortured shrieks and endless tears flashing across your memory and echoing in your ears. Your stomach clenches just thinking about it.

"(Your Name), I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Zagreus starts, mouth opening and closing like he can't find the words, his breaths coming quick and ragged. He just stares at you, eyes gleaming with an emotion you can't quite place—as if your virtuous act breaks his heart, crushes his soul. Then he blinks, and it's gone, shaking his stupor. “This is my fault…”

You raise an eyebrow, “How is this your fault?”

“I… I just… you shouldn’t have…” You frown as Zagreus struggles, brow furrowed, clearly pained as he thinks over his answer, like whatever he says next determines your fates. Seeming to think better of it, he shakes his head and brings your hand to his lips, and you flush, your heart skipping as his lips graze over the bandages, warmth seeping through the material and into your wounds like a healing salve. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” He rasps between each kiss, trailing up the back of your hand and up your forearm, like they’ll heal the wounds faster. Like this is the best he can do, like this is all he can do. Not that you plan to stop him.

Your face burns, but you let him apologize, though you’re not sure what for as he stops before your shoulder. At some point, he slotted himself between your thighs, and now face to face, he studies your cuts and bruises, already fading away as his eyes, soft and glistening, flick over your features. Like he’s debating if his kisses will help them heal faster too.

Gods, if he brings those lips anywhere near your face, you might combust.

You meet his gaze, “What—”

“I lied.”

It comes as a whisper, his voice dry and low that you tilt your head, urging him to continue.

“I’m not some mortal soul, dredging their way through Tartarus,” Zagreus grinds out, scanning your face as if committing you to memory one last time. Then he sits back and stares at the floor, still gripping your hand as he rubs circles over the bandage. “I mean, it’s true I intend to escape the Underworld.”

“Zagreus—”

“And yes, I’m searching for my mother—”

“Zag—”

“But I’m really—”

“My prince.”

He flinches, his eyes shooting up to meet yours. “What?”

“None of this is your fault, my prince. With or without your influence, I’d have done the same thing anyway.” He gapes at you and you smirk, using the little strength you’ve recovered to squeeze his hand reassuringly, “Or would you rather I address you as Your Highness instead?”

Zagreus shakes his head, black hair flopping out of his shocked face. “I don’t understand. You knew?”

“For a bit now, yes,” You shrug as you turn his hand over, large and calloused in yours, swiping a thumb over one of his healed blisters, probably from gripping his weapons. “Took me a while to figure it out, but I can’t say I was surprised. It explained some of your funny behavior.”

He scoffs, the corners of his lips twitching slightly, “What sort of funny behavior?”

“Pretend all you like, but you can’t suppress those noble habits,” You chuckle, eyes crinkling seeing him cheer up. “All your mannerisms screamed ‘royal’, I just didn’t realize we were talking Underworld royalty.”

“Seriously?” Zagreus gazes at you in disbelief. “I thought I did a pretty good job acting—”

“Like a commoner?”

“Like a mortal,” He shoots you a pointed look, and you snort, relaxing into the love seat.

“You were okay.” You purse your lips, “While we’re on the subject of identity reveals, you should know I’m—”

“A succubus?”

You blink before pouting, snatching your hand away to cross your arms over your chest. “You only say that because I was about to tell you…”

“Not true,” Zagreus grins, leaning over to give your thigh an affectionate squeeze. “I knew from the beginning. Succubi magic doesn't affect gods, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel it.”

“And you still stayed? Knowing what I am and what I do?”

“And you still treated me as any other friend, knowing who I am?”

“That’s not the same, and you know it.”

“I disagree,” He coaxes your hands into his, prompting you to meet his gaze as his expression shifts into something more earnest. “We both tried—and failed miserably—to hide a huge part of ourselves in fear of what we’d think of each other, am I wrong?”

You shake your head.

“Exactly. (Your Name), I hope you know not once did I think any less of you for your work, much less your species.”

You respond in kind, “And not once did I consider bowing down to the Prince of the Underworld, especially not after seeing him stuff his face with wraps he picked off the ground.”

He guffaws. “Good, then we’re in agreement?”

“I guess...”

“Just what every man wants to hear from a beautiful creature.” Ignoring the burn in your cheeks, you roll your eyes, and he adds, “But we’re okay? You won’t avoid me anymore?”

“I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

“Keep that up, you won’t be seeing me for another couple runs.”

“I was agreeing with you!”

“Your tone said otherwise.”

By the time your shared laughter dies down, the atmosphere clears, leaving a comfortable silence settling in the small space between you. In that time, he’s yet to let go of your hands, your thighs brushing as he rubs soothing circles against your hands, and while he insists on staying until he’s sure you’re better, acceptance rushes over you like the oncoming tide, because try as you might, Alecto’s punishment was nothing in comparison to Zagreus’s absence. These fleeting moments he stops by your chamber, whether to recover, commission a painting, or to simply have a chat, you appreciate each and every one of them. If that’s all you’ll ever have with Zagreus, you decide, your chest tight with a melancholic warmth, then that's okay.

This is enough.

—

Soon after Zagreus reluctantly leaves you once more, he enters the last chamber of Tartarus.

“Redblood! What say you—ack—hey, I wasn’t done talking!”

If he prolongs their time together, allowing him to indulge his cruelty, then consider it time well spent.

—

AN: One of my biggest peeves in media tropes is the betrayal and angst as a reaction from hiding identities from s/o, like in superhero media. It's overplayed, overdone.

A good, recent example of this is the new animated Superman show, My Adventures with Superman, where (SPOILERS) Lois forces the truth out of Clark, and is pissed when he confirms he is Superman. Bro, you literally said to his face how you'd reveal his identity to the public, can you blame the guy? Idgaf you think he's lying ab his feelings omfg he's protecting his idenity (its a good show tho pls watch it!!)

However, a cartoon that does the scenario right is in the old Nickelodeon cartoon, Danny Phantom (some of yall may be too young to remember), the older sister, Jaz, of the mc, Danny, quietly realizes he's the superhero of their town, and decides to patiently wait for him to tell her when HE'S READY. Like askjgdaksjhf yassss we love patience and understanding.

Which is why I like to imagine while Zag didn't outright tell you who he is, he didn't try to hide it either. The underworld's a big ass place, he's got no control over who and what ppl say and do, so however you find out, whether in passing or of your own sleuthing skills, you both wait.

Ty for coming to my ted talk :D

#zagreus #hades supergiant #hades game #zagreus x reader #zagreus (hades games) x reader #hades

[karniss-bg3]

writing prompt: kar'niss with a tav who's chronically ill/has chronic pain ? like a general comfort fic of sorts, maybe he's helping them with a flare up or something :)

if that isn't possible (which i understand if not) just general sickfic fluff would be great :) thank you !!

The afternoon crept toward evening, the setting sun casting an array of orange and golden hues across the sky. Tav and Kar’niss had been hard at work tending to the garden and livestock they kept around their home. Exhausting work though it was they were satisfied with how much they’d built up their land over time. It was starting to feel like a place they could live out their days in peace. Or rather, relative peace.

Kar’niss was turning the corner of the house carrying a pail of water in each hand prepared to fill the last of the troughs. He’d stop in place when he spotted Tav crouched on the ground clutching their arms. They had broken out into a sweat and appeared distressed trembling in place. Kar’niss frowned and rushed over, placing the buckets down then leaning forward to examine their beloved closer.

“Tav, are you alright?”

They took in a shaken breath as they squeezed at their arms. The color had drained from their face while struggling to lift their head to look up at the drider. “A-Another flare up,” Tav whispered.

Kar’niss understood what this meant. Tav had trouble with severe muscle cramps now and then which were strong enough to disable their body until it passed. The pain was deep and throbbing, their muscles contracting tight against their bones until the relief of release finally graced them. He didn’t hesitate to act, lowering his body so he could carefully scoop the distressed being into his arms. He’d cradle them against his chest and turn to skitter toward the house, keeping his movements steady so as to not jostle Tav too much along the way. He carried them into the house which had a large, round door at the front to accommodate Kar’niss’ size. He brought Tav over to the couch lowering them down gently onto the soft cushions.

“Wait here,” Kar’niss said. He cupped either side of their face, a tender caress applied to their cheeks before he pulled away.

He got to work on a way to help Tav’s current predicament. First, he went outside to retrieve buckets of water, using them to fill the wooden wash basin situated in the back room of their home. He’d check on Tav each time he wandered through, seeing them curled on the couch, their breathing labored. This motivated him to move quicker, carrying in bucket after bucket until the basin was nearly filled. From there he grabbed a bag of Epsom salt. He’d tear it open and pour the bag into the water then grabbed a wooden stick, using it to stir the contents until he deemed them well mixed. The bath wasn’t ready for Tav just yet as the water was still cold but he had a solution for this, too. He wandered toward a cabinet which held a number of magical scrolls, likely ones Tav had collected on their journey through Baldur’s Gate. He’d search until he found a scroll of burning hands.

“Incendium!” Kar’niss’ voice boomed as he read off the incantation. The scroll disintegrated in his grasp only to envelop his hands in flames, his eyes igniting with that same fiery blaze while channeling the spell. He scurried over to the edge of the tub and immediately dunked his blazing digits into the water sending the heat churning through the liquid to disperse evenly. He held them under until the surface began to bubble signifying it had heated up to a reasonable degree. Satisfied, he dismissed the spell and left the room to return to Tav’s side. Upon approaching he’d see they were still curled up and struggling with the consistent pain surging through their body.

“Hold on for a little longer, the bath is almost ready.” He curled his long legs so he could lower the bulk of his body closer to the floor, using the new angle to be within reach of his distressed lover. With great care he’d start the process of undressing them, patiently peeling each article clothing away while paying attention to their stress levels by doing so. “Easy, one arm at a time.” His voice was quiet and calm doing his best not to panic and worry Tav all the more. Accustomed to this as he may have been it didn’t lessen his concern for the one he adored most in the world. Tav hissed in discomfort while being disrobed, not out of fear of Kar’niss but due to how strenuous even the most simple of movements could be. The drider handled the situation expertly, occasionally stroking the top of Tav’s head in an effort to ease their nerves.

Once Tav was stripped bare Kar’niss inched closer so he could slide his arms under their back and legs, hoisting them from the couch to cradle against his chest. He could feel them shivering against the exposed portions of his chest, both from the sudden chill of the ambient air and the ache that haunted every fiber of their body. They looked up at the drider who was tending to them so diligently, his patience and level headed approach greatly appreciated by the one in distress. Kar’niss carried Tav to the edge of the tub which had a fair amount of steam rising from the still pool. He extended a pedipalp and stuck it into the water to test the temperature ensuring it wasn’t too hot. Tav wasn’t a lobster after all and Kar’niss didn’t appear interested in seeing them boiled alive.

“Take a breath my love, I’m going to lower you in alright?” He turned his head to focus his many eyes on Tav, studying their face for any signs of hesitation.

“I—I’m ready,” Tav whispered, their voice shaken.

Kar’niss hooked both pedipalps into the side of the basin to keep him steady as his torso leaned down. He eased Tav into the water first by the feet, his grip firm on their body to make sure they didn’t slip and have an unpleasant tumble. Once their backside sat firmly on the bottom of the tub he’d relinquish his hold and slide his arms away. Tav tipped their head back and rested it on the edge of the cask releasing a long, drawn out exhale of relief the moment the hot water enclosed them. The mixture of the warm liquid combined with the Epsom salts had an immediate effect on them, lulling the tensed muscles to relax and ease up their assault.

“A-Ah mmh...th-thank you, Kar’niss,” Tav said as their eyes rolled closed.

Kar’niss exhaled in turn as his own sense of relief took hold. “I didn’t mean to make you wait so long. I should’ve moved faster.”

Tav shook their head, their brows forming a tight crease of their nose. “No, you did nothing wrong. This is perfect.”

His legs clicked beneath him as he moved to the other side of the room, retrieving two cloths. He’d dip one into the water and wring it out, folding it into a thick rectangular shape. He’d then place it over Tav’s forehead so the head would spread over their face. With the other he’d dunk it into the bath and then rub a bar of soap over the surface to build up an array of suds. He stepped in behind where Tav rested their head, leaning over so he could wash over their shoulders and chest. He’d squeeze at the skin to massage the sore muscles beneath, mindful not to apply too much pressure to such tender spots. Tav looked and could see the underside of his chin as he worked. The attention pulled quiet groans from their mouth which helped ease the tension all the more.

Tav reached out of the water and cupped either side of Kar’niss face from their lower position, encouraging him to dip his head and bring their faces closer together. His eyes widened with some surprise when Tav initiated an upside down kiss, their lips connecting with Kar’niss chin nestled beneath Tav’s nose. He’d pause the washing so he could focus on the meaningful gesture allowing himself to melt into the embrace. When the kiss broke he’d lean back, a lopsided smirk on his face as he peered down at Tav.

“What was that for?” Kar’niss asked.

Tav chuckled weakly. “Because I wanted to, and to show you how grateful I am for your aid. This would’ve been a nightmare to handle on my own. Truly, thank you.”

He glanced off to the side then darted his gaze back to them. “After everything you did for me this is the least I can do. You saved my life, gave me a new purpose and loved me when no one else would.” He wrapped his arms around Tav from behind, resting his chin on top of their head. “There will never come a moment where I regret serving you. It is what makes me happy.”

Tav took in a shaken breath as they leaned into him. They felt the sting of tears well in their eyes, so moved by such a heartfelt declaration. Rather than reply they opted to savor the moment. Between the warmth of the bath and the comforting strength of being wrapped in Kar’niss’ arms they never felt more seen or loved. It would be something that stuck with them for many years to come.

Kar’niss continued to bathe Tav making sure not to miss a spot in the process, massaging their shoulders, arms and thighs while minding his claws. He’d let them soak until the water took on a chill, deciding now was a good time to get them out. He’d prepare a towel and lift them from the basin, swaddling them in the over-sized cloth to protect them from the cold. Kar’niss then carried Tav to the lit fireplace while nosing the side of their face with affection, soon lowering them on the comfortable fur tugs in front so they could dry. By now much of the muscle strain had passed and they were feeling more like themselves, even if exhausted from the ordeal.

“I’m going to make you something to eat, just rest.”

Tav frowned. “What about you?”

He shook his head. “You fed me yesterday. I can supplement myself with wild game. You need to take ease, not lose blood. I will be fine.” He’d caress over their scalp with his fingertips before he moved away to get started.

The kitchen had been built to where it could accommodate his girth, allowing him the freedom of movement without crashing into one thing or another. Tav laid out on the rugs and tugged the towel tighter around their frame, basking in the warmth of the crackling fire while watching Kar’niss hard at work. He put together the ingredients for a simple chowder, something that wouldn’t require a lot of energy to eat. He’d ladle out a decent sized portion into a wooden bowl then wandered over to his beloved. He plopped down onto his belly and used his pedipalps to encourage them to sit up. They did exactly that, leaning their back between said ‘palps using him as a make shift chair. He looped his arms around Tav clutching the bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. Tav picked up on what he was trying to do.

“Oh love, you don’t have to do that. I’m much better now I should be fine to feed myself.”

Kar’niss craned his neck and side eyed Tav. “I’m sure you can, but I’d prefer to do it at least for now. Let me pamper you.” He squeezed Tav’s hips with his pedipalps rather insistently.

They issued a soft sigh of defeat and smiled. “Alright, if it’ll make you happy.”

Indeed, it made him very happy! So much in fact that a pleased grin spread over his lips, flashing his fangs in the process. Keeping them nestled against his body he’d feed them one spoonful after the other, making sure they had swallowed before offering another. All the while Tav was wrapped up to their ears in a fuzzy towel which locked in the heat of the fireplace keeping them secure and toasty. Kar’niss kissed the top of their head and breathed in their scent throughout the feeding, relieved that his lover was no longer hurting. This continued until the bowl was empty of its contents leaving Tav full and sated.

“Good, this pleases me,” Kar’niss said. He’d leave Tav’s side long enough to put away the dish and retrieve proper bed clothes in preparation for rest. He’d remove Tav’s towel and help them into the sleepwear one piece at a time even going as far as to tickle the underside of their foot to tease them.

“Ack, stop that!” Tav laughed, jerking their leg away.

Kar’niss chuckled as he secured the last of the garments to their body. “I can’t resist the opportunity to make you laugh.” He’d grasp their body and hoist them back up into his arms, issuing a passing nibble to their chin. “It’s been a long day, let us retire.”

Tav toyed with his hair while brushing face to face with him. “I’d love nothing more.”

He carried them to their bedroom which, like much of the house, was designed to be open so Kar’niss could walk without tripping over obstacles. Their bed mirrored this notion as one side was raised to a typical level while the other side was lowered in a slope meant to fit Kar’niss’ arachnid half with greater ease. It also allowed him to align his humanoid torso to properly cuddle Tav without twisting his spine in the most unpleasant of ways. He laid Tav down on the raised portion while stepping into the other side, nestling his body into the cushions with his legs tightly curled either side of his frame. He’d pull up the covers and tuck Tav in, laying behind them so he could wrap his arms around their body. He buried his face against the back of their neck and reveled in their closeness, grateful that they were doing better now. Tav clasped one of Kar’niss’ hands against their chest and kissed his knuckles, wiggling back into him to keep them as close as was available.

“I love you,” Tav whispered, their eyelids growing heavy.

Kar’niss smiled and squeezed their torso. “I love you, always.”

Together the pair dozed off, wrapped up in one another. Their lives may know hardships, challenges and troubles but their loyalty and care for each other will always persevere.

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #drider #karniss #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #answered #my writing #kar'niss x tav #gender-neutral tav #kar'niss fanfic #kar'niss bg3 #bg3 fanfic #hurt/comfort #sickfic #fluff #chronic pain #chronic illness

[lostmyremembrall]

𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐁𝐞 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲

𝑇𝑜𝑚 𝑅𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑥 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑁𝑒𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑙! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓

You tend to Tom's broken nose after he gets punched by a fellow orphanage child. Something changes in the air when you two are the only ones in the room, with his gaze lingering on your every move. How does the young Dark Lord with trust issues respond to your touches? And how does he return the favour?

Warning: Brief mention of blood. Photos aren't mine.

Recommended Music: Nothing Will Be Easy by Eurielle

“You should know better than to punch James,” you mumbled as you led him down the hall and into the Infirmary. A couple of kids, who happened to be giggling and running by, quieted down when Tom’s angry eyes came into view. They slid by quickly, trying not to get in Tom’s way.

Tom slumped down onto a wobbly chair in the room. The flimsy wood rattled against the floor under Tom’s weight. He glared up at you and mumbled something. You could only guess the words were some empty threats, something about murdering you, maybe. But, at least for now, at least for the moment, Tom’s mouth was covered over with the ball of handkerchief, muffling whatever he was saying into incoherency.

You grinned. It wasn’t every day you could tire his ears out without a word of snarky commentary from him. “Sorry, Tom. Can’t understand a word,” you chuckled.

Tom did not find this funny at all, of course. His furious gaze pierced you from above the handkerchief, attempting at a very menacing look. But, that was impossible for a boy with a broken nose. He huffed out an air of frustration, the scoff to be soon replaced by a wince.

You turned around to the medicine cabinet and returned with a tray of Bayer Aspirins and gauze. “Here, let me take a look,” you murmured.

Tom did not move an inch. Your shoulders dropped in exasperation; out of the whole orphanage, you weren’t sure if you knew someone as difficult of a patient as Tom Riddle jr. “Tom,” you insisted, “I’m just here to help.”

Tom’s stubborn eyes did not leave you. You were certain his lips were pursed underneath that handkerchief, clearly displeased by you assisting him. Or your comments. Or maybe you in general.

It took forever until Tom finally brought down his bloodied handkerchief. To your surprise, underneath the handkerchief his expression did not reveal any displeasure. The wound, however, looked miserable. Red splattered down his nose, his lips, and his chin. And there it was, his nose painfully reddened and crooked. You held his chin, angling his face under better lighting. Tom, though dismayed, still let you do your work.

“Classic broken nose,” you murmured, closely inspecting his nose. “Christ, James did not pull his punches, did he.”

He grumbled before he yelped. Taking advantage of the lull of the moment, you had realigned his nose. 

“At least your bleeding stopped,” you took the rolled-up handkerchief from his hand, his initial TR embroidered on the corner. You placed it in the wash basin for later, conscientious of the glaring daggers he was shooting at your back as he held his nose.

You turned around back to him, applied some liquid to folded gauze, and took a step towards him. Tom reeled back, suspiciously eyeing the gauze in your hands.

“It’s just saline,” you sighed, “to clean the wound.”

You raised the gauze up to his face. In the end, Tom nodded reluctantly. You angled his face again and leaned down to start dabbing away the blood. At the end of the day, his stubble was growing back already at the chin, prickly against your fingertips.

“You know Martha trained me,” you added, a bit soured by the fact that he did not even trust you with sanitising.

His eyes were trained on you. It was a bit distracting, with his piercing gaze and unreadable expression. You blinked a few times, trying to focus on cleaning the wound rather than his incessant gaze.

“It’s your dexterity that I don’t trust.”

And there it was, making you already wish you had stuffed the handkerchief into his mouth. You winced at the comment. Despite how much you hated to admit it, he was right; you were infamous in the orphanage for your clumsiness.

“At least I'm trusted,” you scoffed. Of course, you were referring to his notoriety in the orphanage. If you were infamous for dexterity, he was infamous for dishonesty. Everyone knew Tom had something to do with that Dennis Bishop boy and his incident.

“Do you distrust me?”

A mumble. It was a low, silky dulcet voice. You rarely heard him talk, you forgot how easy it was to drown in his voice. The question itself suggested a threat depending on how you chose to answer. But, there was something about his soft voice, or perhaps it was the peaceful afternoon sun, that made you intuit this wasn’t supposed to be threatening.

No, it was a genuine question.

You pondered the question for a moment, letting your brows furrow. You chose this moment to wash out the bloodied cloth in the basin. It made things easier when you had your back to him. Still, you felt his eyes boring into your back.

You bit your lips, and in the end, shook your head reluctantly. “I can’t,” You sighed down at the cloth in your fingers, your fingers also reddened by Tom’s blood. Even considering the fact that you had known Tom your whole life, you couldn’t just ignore the mysterious incidents surrounding him.

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself stammering as you turned around. You refused to look into his eyes as you started patting away at his cheeks. “I really am.”

You weren’t even sure what you were sorry for. Guilt? Disappointment? Regret?

Silence greeted you, to your surprise. You were expecting a raging outburst. At least a comment dripping with cynicism. Your eyes flickered up to him to steal a glance.

His eyes bore into you, his expression completely unreadable. Save for slowly blinking once every few seconds, he remained completely still. It was enough to cause you to wonder whether he had fallen asleep with his eyes open, or he had turned into a mannequin.

It was as if he did not hear you. Or, perhaps, it was only that he heard the response he expected.

His reclusive and snide nature usually defined who he was. But it was these moments, when he held a certain air of distant indifference, when you felt like you were stepping into an unfamiliar, strange land. Like he was some sort of a divine or extraterrestrial being remote from the concerns of humans.

It was these moments when you seriously doubted whether he was a human at all.

But this close, you were able to see his little flaws, imperfections. The slight bags underneath his eyes. The pores. The lips chapped from biting down on it too often. And most noticeable of all, the calculating, shimmering, alluring grey eyes surveying you.

So he wasn’t made out of porcelain, after all.

Your brows furrowed in concentration, “Still don't like seeing you in pain,” you murmured before even realising what was flowing out of your mouth.

You may have been just imagining things, what with the golden light reflecting on every metallic surface in the room, shining freckles of light on Tom’s face, or his eyes being in your peripheral vision. But for a flicker of a second, you thought you saw his eyes soften at your comment.

“ I didn’t start it, you know,” Tom’s quiet voice filled the room, catching you off guard. “At least this time,” he breathed out, angling his face away from you, in doing so averting your searching eyes.

“What happened?” you found yourself whispering for some reason, even if there was nothing to hide. You dropped your arm to your side, watching Tom search for words.

“He was accusing me of lack of devotion to our nation,” Tom was now looking down at his hands, massaging them. You noticed for the first time that his fists weren’t bruised. So he didn’t punch James, you realised. You were caught by a pang of shame, noticing that you assumed Tom had started the fight.

“James should know better than to enlist,” he continued darkly. “Honour and faith mean nothing once you’re rotting underground.”

You hummed. You did not have a definitive answer on how you felt about these young men simply going to the front to die in a ditch. But most importantly, it felt like it was not your moment to state your political thoughts on the matter.

"I don't know about patriotism," you murmured, deciding to return to your original task of wiping the blood away from his face, now moving onto the small splatter across his forehead.

You thought to the neighbour next door, a mother who received a telegram just a week ago notifying the death of his son killed in combat. She did not even get her son's body back.

"But I personally wouldn't want you or James coming back to us as telegrams." Yes. Even if it was Tom Riddle or James Lester, you would much rather take the two of them wrestling in the hall over them disappearing from the orphanage without a trace.

A flash of surprise crossed his eyes before disappearing like a comet into the depth of the universe. He blinked rapidly, his calculating eyes flickering between your eyes, trying to decipher the truth behind your sentiment.

You had moved on to dabbing away the blood that was crusting around the curls of his forehead. You moved the strand of damp curls out of his eyes, tucking them close to his ear. It almost looked as if he was fighting hard not to reel away from your touch when your fingertips grazed against the tip of his ear.

You paused, however, when his eyes captured you. It was impossible to read him as ever, but there was something about his eyes. Something you have never seen in them before.

Despite the circumstances, there was something different in the air. Like you were seeing him for the first time. And he was seeing you for the real you for the first time.

His raven hair glowed into copper wires in the golden light of the afternoon streaming in from the window. You have never been this close to him before; you practically stood in between his knees, close enough for Tom to wrap his arms around you and lean his forehead against you. If he dared.

The only thing audible was the quiet breathing from him, his shoulders rising and lowering in a constant rhythm. The usual screams and laughter of children faded away into the distance. And you two seemed to be in this stagnant time, even the dust still in the air.

You blinked your thoughts away when you noticed that you’d been staring into his eyes for a while now. You tore your eyes away. You dabbed at the dried-up blood on his lips. 

You hesitantly raised your gauze to his nose. You were extra careful not to hurt his inflamed nose. He winced at every gentle touch on the nose. You appreciated that despite everything, he tried his best to stay still.

You may have been just imagining things, what with the golden light reflecting on every metallic surface in the room, shining freckles of light on Tom’s face, or his eyes being in your peripheral vision. But for a flicker of a second, you thought you saw his eyes soften at your comment.

Soon enough, his usual pale composure was appearing again underneath the smears of red. And just like that, your short time with him was over. You felt yourself being pulled back into reality. The sun now becoming too hot, heating the room like an oven. The cicada's ringing outside the window. The children’s laughter.

You shook your head briefly, forcing yourself to come back. You placed the washcloth in the sink and turned your back to him to reach for the aspirin.

“Take these every four hours,” you pressed the tin can of Bayer’s aspirin into his hands. You were conscientious of his gaze still held on you. It was time to return to reality, you told yourself over and over. Through a veil, you heard yourself murmuring something about applying pressure to the bridge of his nose to stop bleeding were it to happen again.

You knew his head was dipped, searching for your eyes. Urging you to return the stare. You did not know what it was, but something made you afraid to stare into his eyes again. You knew that, if you were to find his grey eyes ever again, something would snap inside you.

You knew you will go through some wretched, beautiful metamorphosis.

You pressed more gauze into his hands. His hand was soft and warm against your fingers. Before it slipped out of his hand, for a brief moment, his thumb caught your hand in between fingers. His touch lingered on you, his fingers surprisingly gentle.

But, it was gone too quickly. His hand slithered out of you. You pulled your hand back close to you. You watched his trousers fully extend as he stood up; his leather shoes paused for a moment facing you, before they turned towards the door. And before you knew it, his shoes were out of your sight.

You heard the footsteps of his heels against the cold floor. It was precisely this moment that your hand called your attention to you: your dominant hand that your other hand was anxiously massaging. Your hand that Tom was holding merely a second ago.

You noticed that any traces of blood were gone. You rubbed your fingers together in disbelief. You were certain you had not had the chance to wash your hands yet. And you were sure, from the amount of blood, that you were in dire need to wash them.

Yet here they were. Not a single stain. As if they never came anywhere close to Tom’s face.

You gasped and looked towards the door. But alas, Tom Riddle was long gone, the empty doorway only mocking you in your solitude. You stood there, dumbfounded, left alone to question your memories as your eyes remained strained at where he stood.

A/N: Decided I needed some wholesome Tom after writing consecutive smuts. Considering pt. 2 if anyone's interested. Prob will be something about Tom returning the favour and healing reader’s injuries.

Fun fact: Bayer’s aspirin came in tin cans around 1940s. Their can design and posters are adorable, if you ask me. Besides the newspaper columns listing deaths and missing, soldier’s family received telegrams about their son’s death. I chose the song to depict the longing between the two, a hint of tragedy. If the reader falls in love with him and him with the reader (and let's be honest, it's starting to happen already,) it won't be an easy, straightforward journey.

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #tom riddle au #tom riddle #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fluff #tmr #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #harry potter #tom riddle x gn!reader #harry potter fanfiction #tom riddle romance #Spotify #Youtube

[the-whumpening]

The Caged Tiger | Part 2

Prev | Masterpost | Next

CW: violence, forced nudity, minor character “death,” dehumanization, medical whump, noncon bathing, blood, restraints, humiliation

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

Sweat drips from Ash's brow, burning as it glides down his eyelids and into his tear ducts. His breath is staggered and rough; he stumbles to his hands and knees, a dribble of saliva and blood trailing out of his mouth. Owen's torn, limp body lays before him, sword still in hand.

"You're still holding back, aren't you?" Ozmund asks as he enters the dingy pit. With an easy wave of his hand, Owen's wounds stitch together, and he gasps back to life. Ash, too, is healed of his injuries; he can feel his energy and strength returning in an instant.

“Man!” Owen groans, “That never stops hurting! How many more times do we have to do this today, Oz? Personally, I think three deaths in one day is a lot.”

Although Ash is no stranger to death, killing Owen again and again, watching him being revived each time, is unnerving in ways he never imagined. Necromancy never sat quite right with him to begin with, but this . . . He can feel it in himself already—a hollowness that grows each time he’s healed and set upon his prey once more. It isn’t a cold detachment, blind to the pain they both experience, but rather a desolate ache. Something gets left behind, though he’s not quite sure what.

Ozmund glares at Owen, then consults the notebook he always carries with him. Snapping it shut, he sighs, “I suppose this will work for a baseline. Fine. Make yourself useful and start some tea, then. I’ll be in the lab for a while. Oh, and send down Faye—I’ll need her assistance.”

A shimmer of magic binds Ash’s hands, and an invisible force holds the chain around his neck, leading him like a dog behind Ozmund. He silently follows the winding halls, his head hung low and hair still matted with sweat. Each quiet fall of his bare feet thuds in his ears and keeps rhythm with his racing pulse.

Entering the lab, Ash is ushered against a wall, where his chain is latched to a ring mounted high in the stone. Unable to sit, he continues to stare holes into the floor, pulling his shoulders into himself as if to hide from view. Meanwhile, he can hear Ozmund bustling around the room, inspecting cabinets and drawers to pull out a few tools and arrange them on a stone slab table. Ash's anxiety builds as each piece is carefully lined up along the rest; his mind races wondering what Ozmund is planning.

He flinches as a timid knock on the door shatters the silence.

"Enter," Ozmund calls, still engrossed in his preparations.

Ash hesitantly glances up, finding a small, delicate elf carrying a tin wash basin filled with cleaning supplies. Although his pulse slows slightly seeing she's not a threat, a wave of humiliation takes its place as he realizes why she's there.

"Clean him up, please, Faye," Oz orders absently as he flips through pages in his notes. "Then we'll get measurements and vitals—the usual."

"Right away, sir," Faye replies. She smiles warmly at Ash, and he drops his gaze in response, his cheeks burning fiercely. Does she not know what he's up to? Does she just not care? Or maybe, Ash wonders as he notes the oak leaf pendant around her neck, she doesn't have a choice.

With deft efficiency, she empties her supplies from the tub and swiftly removes Ash's soiled clothes. His face reddens—even the tips of his ears flush bright pink. A distant instinct wants to cover himself with his tail, but he remembers with mounting shame that it's no longer there. Faye places the basin at his feet, and he steps in.

He could have lived with the humiliation of being stripped and bathed by a stranger, naked and shivering in the dungeon-like laboratory—embarrassed, certainly, but he could have dealt with that indignity. But to his dismay, Ozmund looks up from his notes at just that moment. Hot stinging tears burn at the corners of Ash's eyes; he tucks his chin deep in his shoulder to hide his face as Ozmund steps closer, arms folded, to observe.

“So,” Ozmund’s voice, clinical and clear, echoes through the room. Ash grits his teeth. “It seems a lot has changed since we last met. No stripes, no tail, no cat ears—I’d hardly call you a tiger at all. That eye is new as well.”

The creature dwelling behind Ash’s eye stirs, watching Ozmund with intense curiosity and whispering indecipherably. You’re still here? Ash reaches out mentally. Although it doesn’t reply, he can feel a kind of confirmation. Somehow, Hsa’s presence makes him feel a little less alone.

Impatient, Ozmund huffs. “Pardon the phrasing—that was a question. How exactly did this happen?”

Ash says nothing.

“Some magical transaction? Or is this a part of your life cycle?”

Still, Ash remains silent, his lips pressed in a tight line.

“Not that you’d understand, but this is important data,” Ozmund snipes. “Your dear sister and brother both exhibited transformations like this. It’s truly a shame I haven’t been able to study your eldest brother . . . yet, anyway. Still, three out of four isn’t bad.”

His stomach churns and bile rises in his throat—he’s done this to Kitara and Nino as well? I remembered her mentioning something about him, but . . . He’s grateful at the moment for Faye, who stands on a stool to clean his face and hair, blocking Ozmund’s view. An errant tear slips out of his eye, and she gives a pitying smile as she wipes it away. His shivering muscles feel suddenly on fire, shaking from white-hot rage. He clenches his jaw even tighter against the bitter, acidic taste on his tongue; don’t do this—don’t let him get to you.

“Fine, then. I’ll find out one way or another.” He wanders to the table, grabbing his book and supplies. “I like you better silent, anyway.”

#whump writing #whump #dnd whump #male whumpee #male whumper #tw blood mention #captivity whump #the oak leaf is ozmund's personal symbol #he gives it to all his children #yes hsa is just ash backwards lol #it named itself #the caged tiger #mute whumpee #whumpblr #rublewriting #tigerverse #writeblr #whump community

[claudeng80]

North Sea Storm

Originally intended for “bathtub bonding” for Madness 2022 - Temeraire AU

The Aerial Corps (AO3 series)

The slate roof jitters in the wind off the North Sea, and the sound echoes through the empty warehouse space. Closer to hand, drips of water hit the brick floor with muted thuds, some through cracks in the neglected roof, but far more from the edges of Obi’s cloak. “We should have waited,” Shirayuki says. She’s been saying it to herself the entire time he was gone, but it sounds thin and whiny now that she says it out loud.

“Is she hurt?” Obi looks to the darkest corner of the warehouse, where Persia is fast asleep on a pile of discarded bags. Broken crates cast toothy shadows against the walls, flickering in the light of Shirayuki’s candle.

“Just exhausted.” They blew in on the first front of the storm, just ahead of the worst of the rain and lightning. It made for a surreptitious arrival in The Hague, as every window facing the sea was already shuttered, but Persia was no Royal Copper to beat the wind into submission. She had sailed before it like a tailless kite in a gale, flipping and dropping. Shirayuki had paid her tribute to King Neptune at least once- when she closes her eyes she can still taste acid and feel the whirling. “She should be fine when she wakes up, if we can find enough for her to eat.”

“As long as she wakes up before dawn, I think she can manage that on her own. And at least we won’t starve!” He holds up a bakery bag, sprinkled with rain.

“There’s a hearth in the office here, if you think it’s safe to have a fire.”

Another wave of rain batters the windows with a report like gunfire. “I think it’s a chance worth taking, if it means warming up.” He leans in close. “Your lips are turning blue.”

“W-warm sounds nice. But if we’re thinking big, my hair’s more salt than anything else right now. It would be nice to wash it out.”

“There’s certainly no shortage of water.”

The office is cozy. There’s a kettle hanging on a hook by the fireplace, a pile of dry firewood, and a bed covered in a thick wool blanket. Either she’s misunderstood the purpose of warehouse offices or this one has been used for more than just the storage and shipping of goods. She sets aside thanks for their local contacts, too wet and salty to be any more curious. Best of all, there’s a basin big enough to work as a tub.

“Eat first,” Obi insists. Dinner consists of cold meat stuffed in the middle of a crusty roll of bread- the bread has more grit than she’s accustomed to but a full stomach does make everything seem a bit less dire. Persia’s snores from out in the warehouse continue steady and unabated.

The first kettle of water splashes into the basin, barely making a film of water on the bottom. “This is going to take a while,” Obi says.

“It always does,” Shirayuki agrees, and adds an equal amount of rainwater before setting the next batch to heat. Obi pulls out one one of his knives, drying it off carefully and inspecting the edges before setting it aside and moving on to the next.

**

Obi’s done with his knives by the time the tub is full enough to use. “You can go first,” he says. “You need the warmth more than I do.”

There are blankets put away in a cabinet; warmth is not the primary issue now, but Shirayuki is in no mood to argue as she peels her stockings.off her skin with an audible crinkle. The garters leave lines in their absence. Her hair is crispy under her fingers as she extracts the day’s ribbons and pins, and the salt holds its shape even with them gone. Her fingers are clumsy on the closures of her stays, and a different warmth jets through her as Obi nudges her fingers aside to undo them himself. He’s well familiar with them now, but he finishes in a businesslike manner and then looks away as she sets aside her shift. The muslin is translucent and blotchy from rain and sea salt; hopefully it will dry overnight, or tomorrow will be uncomfortable indeed.

The water smells a bit metallic, the tin of the tub flexing slightly under her weight but retaining the heat of the water and blessedly the stickiness of her skin is washed away. An awkward dunk, and her hair cascades into a tail of red over her shoulder as she rinses it out. She glances at Obi, just to catch his head turning away. The tip of his ear might be a bit pink, and she doesn’t think it’s from the cold. “You should join me,” she says.

“Surely I won’t fit,” he says so fast, it’s clear he’s thought about it.

“Not without touching.” It will be tight, but that’s part of the appeal. Tomorrow they prosecute a war, engage in espionage and offer support to enemies of Napoleon’s puppet kingdom of the Netherlands. There will be no time for softness then. Surely they can take tonight for themselves.

Perhaps Obi thinks the same, because he doesn’t argue further. He undresses away from her, as always- no matter how many times she proves that his scars are nothing to her, he still turns them away- and she has leisure to enjoy the sun-darkened skin at his wrists and the back of his neck.

But by the time he steels himself enough to face her, she’s already pulled herself over into one corner of the tub. The water rises a bit as he steps in, then a lot as he sits. “This isn’t going to work so well for washing,” he says as she shifts to let him encircle her with his legs. She’s not quite on his lap, but it’s a close thing.

“Not at all,” she agrees, plastering the wet cloth to his chest with a laugh. It sticks for a second, then peels free and drops back into the water. She fishes it out and picks up his hand, scrubbing at his wrist, then gently between his fingers.

“How are your fingers so cold? You’re literally in the warm water!” He tugs at her, playfully, and she pinches his little finger through the cloth. “I can wash myself, you know.”

She hums. “Of course you can. But so can I.” She lifts his hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to the knuckles before she sniffs loudly. “See, no more ocean smell.”

Obi’s mouth shuts with a click, and she runs the cloth over his wrist, up to his elbow. There’s a small scar there, just across the meat of his forearm, and she traces it gently with the cloth. He looks concerned at her attention, so she just says, “All clean.”

To reach around his shoulder, she slides closer, wrapping her legs around his hips just the way his encircle her. His breath is quiet just above her, and his hands drop to her hips as she leans across to wash the back of his neck. She can’t resist dropping a kiss on his chest, and he huffs something that’s almost a laugh, but distracted. “You’re not leaving me anything to do,” he murmurs in her ear.

“And here I’d heard you were resourceful,” she answers, tracing the line of his throat with her cloth. There’s a line there of salt spray and sand, just where it caught in the collar of his un-distinguished undercover coat. She misses his aviator’s green but understands that spies can’t go about wearing the uniform of their kingdom’s forces.

Water cascades down her spine, sending her forward into Obi’s lap with a gasp. “Who says I’m not?” His hands, until now warmed in the water, rub little circles on her back between scoops of water. So close, her thighs rest on his, and it would be so easy to slide that last few inches forward and press her body to his entirely-

The tub resonates with a dull thud as her knee hits the wall, ripples shivering across the surface of the water. Caught, she fixes her eyes on the other side of Obi’s throat, sweeping the last of the ring away with the cloth. He’s distracting.

She darts a peek at his face, only to find his eyes on her as well. His lips curve in the content smile that he rarely shows anyone but her and possibly Persia; the others know his smirks and his gleeful grins, but Obi is not a man known for content softness. It is everyone else’s loss that they cannot be the object of that look. Not that she has any idea what she’s done this time to warrant it, save banging her knee. “What?”

“Oh, I was just wondering how much longer the water would stay warm. I think the answer is not long enough.” The smile takes on a wicked angle; that one is hers alone.

“Long enough for-” She doesn’t finish the question; when her mind catches up with her mouth she knows exactly what he means and it is absolutely not an option. She may be primarily a physician to dragons, not to humans, but stories get around. The researchers at Pen Y Fan, with its hot springs, had far too many tales of unpleasant consequences. “No.”

“Well, then.” Obi stands, tipping Shirayuki nearly into the bath entirely. It’s a good thing she wasn’t trying to get dry, between a near-dunking and the water cascading off his body. He bends, scooping her out of the tub as though she were no heavier than a coil of rope, and carries her out to where a towel is waiting by the fire. “Let’s get you dry, and then we can see about keeping you warm.”

He snatches the towel from just past the top of her reaching fingers, turning the tables to scrub her dry, catching every nook from her wrists to the backs of her ears, her knees to her armpits, she is surrounded with towel and with his embrace. She’s wondering where those blankets are and how long it will take them to get them laid out, when Obi stills. His finger rests on her lips as be bristles, as on edge as an alley cat. “Someone’s coming,” he whispers in her ear. “Get dressed.”

There’s a knock on the warehouse office door that they’d locked behind themselves; that hadn’t been in the directions, but it seemed like a reasonable precaution. It’s looking justified all of a sudden.

“Do you think it’s the smoke?” Obi shakes his head, still listening. “Or was it a trap?”

Shirayuki’s shift is easy enough to throw over her head, if still smelling like ocean and fear. She wiggles into her stays, still loosened, and pulls up her skirt. The knot will be a bear to undo, but it’s on. Everything else gets stuffed in her bag as she scoops up her shoes.

That, oddly, makes him smile, the same grin he wore fighting the storm with Persia. It’s the look that says he’s about to leap, and by habit she clutches at his arm. “I’m going to wake Persia,” he adds, still bare naked and dripping. Shirayuki throws the towel over him just as he leaves the room.

The knocking turns to pounding, and between shouts at the door she hears wood splinter. She doesn’t know the words - her French is passable, if slow and probably lacking in the phrases that police would yell through doors at foreign spies - but she can only guess that the unfamiliar shouts are in Dutch. She’ll have to get Obi to explain later, assuming there is a later.

There’s a terrible crash - splintering wood and crashing glass, followed by the prolonged rattle of broken bricks and wood hitting the ground. Whether it’s Persia making her exit through one of the windows or their pursuers breaking down the door, Shirayuki won’t know, because Obi hurtles back into the room, snatching his clothes from the floor and tucking them under an arm. Shirayuki pushes the tub against the office door, hoping it will slow them down.

Outside the rain crackles against the wall like pebbles, and the window kicks open into Obi’s hand when he undoes the latch. Out in the warehouse the voices are getting louder, audible even over the wind. “What do we do now?”

“We run.”

#in which obi has a dragon #fanfic #guiltyobiyuki23 #guilty project day 1 #yes this is the mission that ends up with them married

[nirikeehan]

Oh no, Niri, here I am, ready to angst up your DADWC evening. Here's one from the 'Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows list': lachesism, or the desire to be struck by disaster. I THINK WE BOTH KNOW WHO I WANT THIS FOR, but dealers choice my friend, do what feels good.

I absolutely forgot this didn't even say Samson on it, but that's who you're getting.

A direct continuation of this, probably slated for the next chapter of Through A Glass, Darkly.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 992

CW: vague references to suicidal ideation

---

Samson awoke shivering, head ablaze with pain. 

He tried to roll over in his camp bed, but landed on the empty bottle he’d been clutching the night before. He grabbed it with one trembling hand and squinted down the neck. Not a drop left. He swallowed thickly. His mouth felt like cotton, the headache shooting from his eye-sockets to his teeth. 

He hauled himself up, planting feet on the floor. It was all coming back now: his war pavilion, the caravan on the move, his men ready to strike when eyes were sighted on the enemy. They camped in a desolate patch of Orlesian forest at the base of the Frostbacks, where intelligence stated Lady Thalia had holed up. 

Samson staggered to the nearby wash basin and splashed water on his face. The table had contained a looking glass once, but somewhere along the way it had shattered. (A flash of his fist, wet with blood and flecked with shards of glass.) Only the baseboard remained, and he stared at it while grasping at the fleeting tendrils of his dream. The water dripped from his chin. 

 The girl in his grasp, naked and willing. And — a child? And Maddox too, still alive. Samson forced a guffaw, wincing at the intensifying pain. Wishful thinking, that’s what they called that. 

Still. There’d been a lightness in his chest in the depths of the dream. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been that carefree. Never, maybe. 

He wound his way around the ornate furniture in his pavilion — the General must travel in style — and reached the cabinet containing a full array of bottled ruby red. He popped one open, took a hefty quaff. The headache receded at once, taking with it the tremor in his limbs. He came up for air, then wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his nightshirt. The fog lifting, he remembered: he’d be late for the war council meeting if he didn’t hurry.

“Mareth,” he bellowed. 

His elven seneschal appeared at once. He was looking more harrowed as of late, carrot-colored hair sticking in all directions around his long ears. “Yes, milord?” 

“Help me don my armor. I’m to meet with Lieutenant Barris on the hour.” They’d likely be taking to the field today, and it wouldn’t do to let the troops see him without his iconic vestments. 

With a quick nod, Mareth hurried off to the far corner of the pavilion. Samson’s favorite blades gleamed on their racks, many hand-forged by Maddox. (The gap-toothed girl stood by Maddox’s forge, watching him fold the molten metal over and over itself with the singular awe of a child.) Mareth dashed past the weapons to the dummy fitted with Maddox’s prime achievement: the set of black metal armor, inlaid with the largest fragment of vermilion crystal worked by mortal hands. Even across the room, the steady hum of power reverberated from the armor; Mareth grimaced as he disassembled it piece by piece. 

Samson stood still as the servant dressed him. Invigorated by the red lyrium coursing through his veins and fitting to his body, his mind wandered to the tasks set before him. Retrieving the Inquisitor was of utmost importance. He needed to secure her before Corypheus knew she was gone from Skyhold. If he could renegotiate the terms of his prior offer, so much the better. (He could feel her naked flesh, soft and sweet under his touch.) For that, he was hopeful. She was alone, separated from her paramour, and under the thumb of Madame de Fer, to boot. Samson knew from prior intelligence that Thalia had never got on well with Vivienne — he was confident he could appeal to her. He’d had the dress made, after all.

Cullen remained the wild card. Missing still, every report claimed. Dead, maybe? Samson could only be so lucky. Thalia would never return to him if the oaf remained alive.

“A-are you very nervous, milord?” Mareth piped up as he tightened the straps on the cuirass. 

“Nervous?” Samson grumbled. “Why would I be nervous?”

Mareth shrugged. “I dunno. Eve of battle, and all that?” 

It occurred to Samson that Mareth had never been on the frontlines before. Before his promotion to seneschal, he’d been a gardener or some such. “I used to live for this. The thrill of it.” 

“You did?” Puzzlement mixed with horror in Mareth’s voice. He snapped on the greaves, his skin seared from the proximity to the red. 

Samson smirked, thinking back to the days of his youth, when he first held a templar sword in his hand and at last knew he’d found his purpose. He’d put other recruits to shame in the practice yard, even the lordlings promised to the Chantry at an early age, practically born to it. Knight-Commander Guylian had seen promise in him, the streetwise ruffian others would’ve been happy to leave down in the gutter. He’ll wash out of the competency exams, the noble asses whispered amongst themselves as a balm for their wounded pride. He can’t even read. 

Then he’d learned, the book stuff coming to him with surprising ease. Marks as high as the rest of them. 

I knew I was onto something with you, the Knight-Commander had said at the initiation ceremony, handing him his sun shield. 

If only being a Templar had been all that was promised. Noble warriors were one thing — the degrading, humiliating work Samson had done quite another. And then the fall, and the spectacular slog that followed, when he’d found himself belly-crawling again in the muck. A lyrium-starved desperation clung to the memory of those years, culminating in a ghost haze after the Chantry explosion and the city had collapsed into ruin. He began to desire… not a quick end, exactly, but some sort of glorious disaster. Something that would make others look and point and understand his sacrifice. See that he was the unsung martyr. 

Instead, they’d nearly made Cullen Rutherford goddamn viscount. 

#raleigh samson #nightmare!au #samson's tragic backstory #mareth the seneschal #poor mareth #justice for mareth #fics #dragon age drunk writing circle

[brwbathroomrenovatorswarehouse]

Your Guide to Buy Right Bathroom Supplies in Adelaide

The bathroom is one of the most important and frequently used places in your house. From bathing to washing your face, this is the place that you rely on. While it may feel good to cut your budget while outfitting or renovating your bathroom, opting for the best bathroom supplies in Adelaide can make a big difference in your bathing experience. One major aspect of a perfect bathroom is the best quality and the right type of accessories or bathroom products. So, you should always for the best. However, choosing the best supplies can be a little challenging. Hence, here we have listed down some tips to make it easier for you. Let’s have a look.

Why Do Bathroom Supplies and Products Matter?

Bathroom supplies are created to make everyone’s bathroom experience more comfortable, effective, and functional. Besides, bath products and accessories can be an excellent way to showcase your personality and style. No one likes a dull or bland space. Just imagine a bath space without any accessories. 

How would you bath? Where would you keep the sop or other bath products? By using the right bath accessories, you can keep the space clean and organized. Your daily bath routine will be more efficient.

Tips On Choosing The Right Bathroom Supplies For Your Needs and Styles

Understand Your Requirements

The very first step in choosing the right bathroom supplies is understanding your requirements. Here, you need to think about the supplies you will use frequently. For example, as you will use towels, you can go for a towel bar. If you love taking a relaxing bath, then investing in a quality bathtub will be a good option.  

Know Your Style

The bathroom products should perfectly match the design of your area and showcase your unique personal taste. Check your bathroom design, whether it is transitional, traditional, or contemporary. If you have a modern space, then go for minimalist and sleek accessories. 

Go for High-Quality Supplies

To ensure the maximum level of durability and better lifespan, prefer to invest in high-quality bathroom supplies. Look for products that can easily withstand humidity and moisture. It will be better for you to buy accessories made of stainless steel or chromium. High-quality bathroom supplies in Adelaide never fail to give your bath space a touch of sophistication and luxury.

The Size of Your Bathroom

The layout and size of your bathroom can greatly influence the size and type of bathroom products you need. However, it is always advisable to go for space-saving and practical accessories like corner shelves, hooks, wall shaving cabinets, etc if your bath space is small. For large bathrooms, you can go for large items large sinks, bath rubs, etc.

Closing Thoughts

Constructing a comfortable and efficient bathroom that can represent your personal taste requires careful consideration of the supplies you choose and from where you are buying the supplies. If you are searching for a reliable platform to buy the best bathroom supplies in Adelaide, then trust Bathroom Renovators Warehouse. They offer various products that will meet your style, whether you want an ornate style or a minimalist appearance.  From basins, tapware products, and shower rails to bathtubs and special products, they have all. Visit their site now to check out all the available products.

#Bathroom Supplies in Adelaide

[joshuamyra]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Bathroom Trays, Countertop Organizer

[homewerkz01]

Beautify Your Bathroom with Modern Bathroom Accessories

At present, the bathroom is the much needed space where you can refresh yourself after getting exhausted whole day. This is the place where one can spend some time lone and quietly. Today, for bathrooms there are several accessories available in the market.Apart from the main bathroom products like the rain shower, duravit , Geberit Singapore, bathtub or wash-basin, the petite bathroom accessories enhances the décor of the bathroom and transform it into an ideal place to unwind.

Bathroom accessories must always fits well with the interior and theme of the bathroom. In case the setting of the bathroom is debonair and up to date, it is better to choose modern style bathroom accessories. The bathroom fittings comes in chrome finish give urbane and smart appearance to a bathroom.

Prior to buying the Bathroom Accessories in Singapore, it is crucial to make a list of items that are essential based on person’s lifestyle. The practical choices are always result in enhanced functionality and the excellent utilization of the space. To start with, many fundamental accompaniments such as robe hooks, basins etc. is a necessity. Also the luxury bathrooms items can be bought only if the space in the bathroom allows as well as they fulfill the person’s way of life needs.

Bear in mind that the space constraint, size, shape as well as color play a crucial role in matching your bathroom with elegant and magnificent bathroom accessories. It improves functionality and space use. For big size bathroom you have more choices in choosing the appropriate bathroom accessories such as big size tub, washbasin etc. Likewise, the size of cabinets and robe hooks should be selected upon requirement as well as size. Numerous of these bathroom items are existing in a variety of shapes that utilize less space and fit closely in any corner or wall of the bathroom.

Also, color of the bathroom products plays an important role while matching up the bathroom with the accessories. It is crucial to select quiet or fine colors for accessories in case the color of the walls as well as fittings is bright. Select vibrant shades if walls and fittings are stunning.

Hence, you can select among the bathroom accessories currently available at the bathroom stores depending upon your taste and the space available in your bathroom. The branded ones are best to pick as they are durable and made up of good quality products.

#kitchen sink singapore #wc singapore

[ajohnwood]

Top ten Places You Should Clean Before Going Out of a Rental

Moving out of a hire property is an interesting yet stressful experience. Amidst the disorder of loading and planning, it's necessary never to overlook the critical task of cleaning the room you've called home. An intensive end of lease cleaning is not only courteous to your landlord but also helps guarantee you receive your whole protection deposit back. To make the process simpler, here are the most effective 10 places you should clean before moving out of a rental.

Surfaces and Ceilings: With time, surfaces and roofs gather dust, dust, and also small stains. Use a delicate detergent and a soft towel to completely clean these materials, spending particular awareness of places near mild changes and corners.

Surfaces: Vacuum and clean all floor types, whether they're rug, hardwood, laminate, or tile. Make sure to handle any spills, spots, or scrape scars that might have happened through your tenancy.

Kitchen Devices: Clean out the range, microwave, icebox, and some other home devices that included the rental. Eliminate crumbs, leaks, and food residue to keep them in a presentable condition.

Cupboards and Compartments: Bare out all cabinets and drawers, cleaning the rooms and exteriors. Wipe down surfaces to get rid of fat and dust, ensuring a brand new begin for the following tenant.

Bathroom Fixtures: Polish the basins, toilets, and baths to remove soap scum, form, and spring deposits. A glowing bathroom not only increases the entire appearance of the space but also leaves an optimistic impression.

Windows and Screen Coverings: Clear the windows from the within and external, including the structures and sills. Wash or dirt shades, curtains, or tones, because they tend to obtain dirt over time.

Gentle Fixtures: Dust and clean mild fittings, including fans, chandeliers, and lamps. Change any burnt-out lamps to ensure the next occupants have a well-lit environment.

Baseboards and Trim: Frequently neglected, baseboards and trim gather soil and dust. Wipe them down to offer the space a finished look and make it more inviting to possible tenants.

Air Ports and Filters: Remove and clean the air vents and change air filters if applicable. This not just increases the quality of air but also reveals your duty towards maintaining the property.

Outside Areas: If the hire includes outside rooms such as a balcony or patio, ensure they are clean and without any debris. Brush or line down these places to produce a positive first impression.

Bonus Idea: Routine a Professional end of lease cleaning Geelong service : If you're short punctually or wish to ensure a thorough cleaning work, contemplate hiring a professional cleaning service. They have the knowledge and equipment to handle also the most tough cleaning tasks.

In summary, leaving a rental home in a clean and well-maintained situation is not just a courteous motion but in addition a strategic move to guarantee the get back of your protection deposit. By approaching these top ten parts before going out , you're not merely meeting your obligations as a tenant but in addition making a positive effect on your own landlord. Recall, your time and effort you invest in end of lease cleaning Geelong service today may pay down in the proper execution of a smooth quit and great referrals for future rentals.

Skilled end of lease cleaning Geelong services are specially useful if you're balancing multiple tasks associated with moving. They help you save time, minimize stress, and present peace of mind, realizing that the house will soon be meticulously washed based on industry standards. From sanitizing kitchen appliances to steam cleaning rugs, their complete method assures your rental will soon be left in exceptional condition.

#End of Lease Cleaning Geelong #House Cleaning Geelong #Bond Back Cleaning Geelong #Cheap End of Lease Cleaning Geelong

[lanaspace-com]

15 bathroom storage ideas for organization

Most bathrooms in typical apartments are not known for their size or convenience, which complicates storage in the bathroom. We will consider several ideas that will help to place necessary items more ergonomically. Vanities If the bathroom is small, the space under the sink should be used to its maximum. Vanities can have a base, stand on legs, or be wall-mounted, which reduces storage space but facilitates cleaning. When choosing a vanity, it's important to take into consideration the size of the bathroom: the wider the furniture, the more space is used for storage. Drawers These designs are handy because they make it easier to access the contents: when you open a deep drawer, all the items are visible, rather than hidden in the far corners. A pull-out design is invaluable in niche cabinets and under-sink vanities. Inside, you can place not just toiletries, but also outlets for a curling iron or hairdryer. The photo shows a design with a well-thought-out system for storing electrical appliances, household chemicals, and a basket for laundry. Wall Cabinets Closed cabinets that hang on the wall are an essential element of a bathroom storage system. They can be located above the washing machine, toilet, or sink. Behind their facades, cabinets hide tubes and jars of cosmetics that you should not leave in sight. Cabinets with mirror doors are particularly functional.  Open Shelves On compact shelves, people usually store items that should always be within reach (shampoos and soap), as well as decor that emphasizes the individuality of the interior. The advantage of shelves is that they can be placed in any area: above the bath, above the washing machine or door, in the corner. For example, chrome corner shelves are handy because they take up little space, have hooks for sponges, and can be attached without drilling. The photo shows bathroom shelves made by hand. Built-in Shelves Even a small recess in the wall can be used for storage, especially in a small bathroom. The wooden shelf shown in the first photo has become the main highlight of the interior. But if you don't want to leave most items in sight, you can close the design by attaching fabric or a roller blind. Freestanding Shelves This storage idea is suitable for spacious bathrooms. Open structures look light and stylish, they can be rearranged if necessary, and the contents can be changed depending on needs. Keep in mind that an abundance of items makes a room cluttered, so it is recommended to use baskets and boxes to maintain order. Niches Also readDesign of niches in the bathroom If during renovation open pipes were hidden in a drywall box, recesses may have formed in some places. Usually, they are not left unutilized and are transformed into shelves for storing various bathroom items. Shelf-niches can consist of several parts or form a whole structure.  Wheeled Shelves Mobile racks are made of metal or plastic and offer a wide choice of shapes. Wheels allow using them anywhere, and compact sizes - fit even in a small area. Storage on Rails You can use this convenient device as a bar for drying towels and sponges, attaching baskets to it, and hanging hooks for various items. A rail allows for optimal storage organization even in the smallest bathroom. In the photo is a white rail matching the tile, mounted without drilling.   Radius Shelves For owners of tulip-shaped sinks, this accessory is a real find, as the space under the plumbing fixture with a leg often remains empty. The curved shape of the rack fills the space to the maximum, and movable rollers allow you to adjust the position of the structure.  Storage under the Tub You should plan such a system at the initial stage of renovation, as it is made to order according to the size of the tub. It could be open shelves, folding or sliding drawers. There is enough space under the tub to store not only cleaning products but also a basin. The photo shows a combined bathroom with shelves built in next to the tub. Towel Ladder This fashionable accessory instantly turns the bathroom stylish and unique. It's the optimal solution for towel storage and drying in a spacious bathroom. Pockets Pockets for storing tubes, combs and other small items are one of the most budget-friendly and useful life hacks. You can hang them on the wall, door, or shower curtain rod. Baskets Eco-style enthusiasts, as well as fans of Scandinavian and rustic design, use baskets in the bathroom not only for dirty laundry storage. Woven containers can be placed on open shelves to add coziness to the interior, hidden in cabinets for sorting items, or hung on the wall. The photo shows a basket with a hinged lid, complementing an interior with elements of rustic style. Compact Dresser Another interesting bathroom storage idea is a portable plastic dresser with sliding drawers. This accessory comes in handy if you need additional storage space in the bathroom: you can place the dresser on the washing machine, toilet table, or use it in a country house. Photo Gallery Organizing storage in the bathroom often requires a considerable investment, but the examples reviewed prove that creating a stylish and comfortable interior sometimes only takes a small budget and some imagination. Read the full article

[roshini]

10 deep cleaning tips to ensure a sparkling home/office space

Since the onset of the pandemic, most of us have been compelled to work at home with no other choice and in the process have gotten to the extent of forcibly turning a portion of our homes into usable home offices.

Nirvahana is an efficient facility management and operations company that is a responsive and consistent maintenance organisation.  Our dedicated and committed services ensure all systems are functioning to their peak potential, bringing about top organisational performance.  The bottom line is to get our services at an affordable price within your budget.

Deep Cleaning as the name suggests is much more than just thorough service and standard cleaning.  It involves cleaning every nook and corner of your premises be it your home or your office and getting rid of dust, dirt, grime, soap scum, and other gunk around your premises.

Nirvahana Deep Cleaning Services makes use of the following tips to ensure a sparkling home/office space.

Nirvahana provides Deep Cleaning Services to Residential properties, Commercial properties, Warehouses, and Industries.  Our Residential deep cleaning services, Bangalore, include deep cleaning for newly constructed, New Interiors, Vacant Building Move-in, Vacant Building Move-out, and Existing houses.  Commercial Deep Cleaning Services include Newly Constructed properties and New Interiors.

Nirvahana Deep Cleaning Services for Residential properties or home cleaning services focus on dusting the house and removal of cobwebs from the entire house.

When it comes to home cleaning services for kitchen and dining areas, we clean the kitchen slab, hob, chimney, sink, and floor.  Also, the kitchen cabinets and cupboards where you normally store utensils of daily use and crockery and other items that are used occasionally. Deep cleaning is done both from the inside and outside by removing utensils and replacing them once the area is cleaned.

The bathroom is one place in the house that needs complete hygiene and cleanliness as the area is in constant use and is mostly damp; hence, being more prone to bacteria, viruses, and other microorganisms.  Nirvahana’s bathroom deep cleaning involves cleaning wall tiles, floors, taps, and other fixtures, wash basin, and WC, along with floor stain removal.

When it comes to the living room, it is important to get rid of the ticks and mites from the softa, carpets, chairs, tables, dining area, etc.  If you are worried that this is going to take a good amount of your time, then stay relaxed as Nirvahana does it all for you.  In addition, we also take up cleaning of show-case, chandeliers, fans, windows, doors, cupboards and wardrobes, shelves, storage items, switches, and floors.

Balcony and utility areas deep cleaning includes floor water wash, dusting, cobweb removal, grill cleaning, etc.

Other tips to ensure a sparkling home/office space include:

Declutter

Remember to declutter before deep cleaning as clearing clutter makes deep cleaning services easy.

Start High, Go Low.

You could ease your task when you tackle and get done with cleaning hard-to-reach surfaces such as the ceiling, ceiling trim, ceiling light fixtures including bulbs, tube lights, chandeliers, walls, and wall hangings, the rest of the trim, and baseboards.

Deep Clean Windows

Remove dust from surfaces.  Wipe clean the rest of the hard surfaces such as wood, furniture, shelves, built-ins, etc.

Deep Clean the Floors

To do this in the right manner, move the furniture aside, even larger ones like beds and sofas.  To ease your cleaning task, place the furniture slides below the heavier pieces and clean that area first.

Nirvahana deep cleaning services use the most appropriate solutions that make the place look spick and span without leaving behind any stains after cleaning. Nirvahana staff is well-trained and experienced to handle the relevant equipment for work; thus, ensuring excellent results and giving value for your money.  If you are looking for deep cleaning services, facility management services, house cleaning services, etc, Nirvahana is your one-stop solution.

#home cleaning services #Deep Cleaning Services

[pestcontrolcompany01]

Best Cleaning Services in Sharjah - SMG Pest Control Services in Dubai

    It’s important to give your home a thorough cleaning once in a while. One time deep-cleaning solutions to your house is a way out. SMG provides Best Cleaning Services in Sharjah solutions to flat owners and domestic societies. So that you can relish dust and stain free living solutions in Sharjah. When it comes to total housekeeping solution, it means total, complete cleaning starting from your entrance door to your balcony, your ceiling fan and all the nook and corners of your house. 

We are professionals, so cleaning each and every corner of your premises is important for us. Our cleaning experts look at every corner of your house, including the slider gaps of your window. So, you just need to sit relaxed during the cleaning task, and within a few hours you will find a new look of your neat and tidy area.

SMG will provide you with experienced and professional cleaners who have undergone strict background checks. We look for perfectionists who would treat your home like their own. 

SMG provides you with an easy and simple booking process with 100% satisfaction guarantee. Our service will help you save time and money. You don’t need to stop up on cleaning products or take out time for cleaning. We provide you with trusted, thoroughly vetted and trained cleaning professionals. With our app, you can book yourself and deep cleaning from wherever you are. 

Our professional home cleaners bring you the best Best Cleaning Services in Sharjah. Our cleaning professionals are very well trained, carry good experience, background verified, passionate and friendly. The products we use for our deep cleaning services are industry standard products. We don’t use any harsh chemicals which might effect the environment. Our services are guaranteed. We provide you a hassle free process. Once you’ve made a booking, we take it from there. Just sit back and relax.

Our kitchen deep clean would include in depth cleaning of stove, counter tops, kitchen platform, cobwebs removal, grease removal, sinks kitchen tiles, cabinets exterior, cabinets interior, appliances exterior as well as interior, empty trash, exhaust fan.

Our bedroom deep cleaning would include in-depth cleaning furniture dusting, mattress vacuuming, cupboard cleaning from outside, windows and grills, lighting fixtures, floor scrubbing, the dry dusting of walls and ceiling.

Our bathroom deep cleaning would include in-depth cleaning of showers and taps, windows & exhaust fan, floor and tile scrubbing, cobweb removal, shelves and cabinets from outside and open shelves if emptied, mirror and glass cleaning water closet and wash basin.

For more details visit our website: Best Cleaning Services in Sharjah

SMG Pest Control Services in Dubai

Contact: [phone]

Address: Office-205, Industrial Area #4, Sharjah,UAE

Twitter: https://twitter.com/smgroupuae

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/smgroupuae/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/smgroupuae/

#Best Cleaning Services in Sharjah #Professional Carpet Cleaning Services in Dubai #Professional Carpet Cleaning Services in Sharjah #Cleaning Services Dubai #Cleaning Services Sharjah #Deep Cleaning Services in Dubai #Deep Cleaning Services in Sharjah #Best Cleaning Services in Dubai

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bent, not broken 4

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; violence; injury; blood; fingering, mean Steve, watching, manipulation, poly dynamic-ish

This is a dark!fic and features the winter soldier and Captain Hydra x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: An attack leads to the uncovering of decades old secrets when you are taken by the deadliest assassin in the world

Note: Tomorrow we’ll have an Andy one shot (we’ll see if it stays that way ahah) but first enjoy this depraved pair.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The soldier pushed you ahead of him. You limped as you hugged your sore ribs, his steps echoing around you ominously. He directed you around endless corners and stopped you at a door. 

He reached around you to push it open and pointed you inside. As he came close, you once more caught a stench of the blood and dirt in his hair. You entered and he followed, the door clanging loudly. 

The bedroom was spacious and lived-in, unlike much of the immense hideaway. There was another set of tall windows looking out into the mountain passes and a large bed against the other wall. You rubbed your upper arms as you looked around and in the milieu of the room, you saw the existence of these two men, if they were still that.

You felt a tug on the back of your dress and as you glanced back at Bucky, he pulled your skirt up roughly and snapped his fingers. You stared at him as he unbuckled the holster around his shoulders and retreated. 

You watched him cross to a metal cabinet with the same censor lock as your door. He opened it and carefully placed each weapon strapped to his body inside. He closed the door harshly and glared at you as he unzipped the slanted zipper of his jacket. He shrugged out of it and tossed it over one of the ample armchairs. 

He pulled off his long-sleeved shirt and set it pointedly atop the disposed jacket. He tilted his head and neared you, curling his fingers under the straps of your dress and lifted them.

You lowered your chin and raised your arms slowly. He stripped you in a single swoop and you shivered as you stood naked before him. His breath grew gristled and deliberate as his fingertips traced the line of your collar bone then the curve of your chest and waist. He lingered on your rib cage and pressed more firmly. You flinched and he dropped his hands.

He shook his head and turned away, pointing to a door just opposite him. You followed the gesture and carefully crossed the room, peeking back at him nervously. You pushed through the door and entered the equally astounding bathroom. 

The round chamber was walled completely in glass and the plunge below made your stomach sink. A vast, round, stone tub stood central to the room, a large showerhead hung above, the floor built in a precise mosaic as an arced counter lined the left wall. It was unlike anything you’d seen before and belonged on one of those ridiculous lifestyle shows that featured houses you could never afford.

You heard a step behind you and looked over your shoulder. Bucky had removed his stained ribbed tank and his boots, his hands loosing the belt at his waist. He nodded to the tall taps and you went over to twist each and tested the temperature from the faucet as it spouted to life.

You heard the rustle of fabric and the clink of his buckle. His bare feet slapped on the floor as he neared and he nudged your hip as he stepped over the side of the tub pulled down the stopper. The stone basin began to fill as you climbed over the high wall and lowered yourself opposite him, just beside the faucet as you folded your legs.

You felt his eyes on you as he let his legs sprawl out, the tub big enough to do so. He sat forward as the water crested his thighs and grabbed your arm. He drew you over to him and you let him guide your body around and against his. He nestled you between his legs and drew your back against his hard front. He took a deep breath and bent his knees to cradle you as he reclined.

You shivered as the water grew higher and watched the foam as the falling stream met the surface. As it reached just an inch below the rim, he pointed over your shoulder and you slid forward to turn off the flow. You sat back and he slung his arms around your middle. You felt his heart beating, quickly at first, and then it slowed as the hot water lulled you.

You sat like that for a while before he gently moved you away from him. He took a cloth folded over the rack and a bottle from the shelf below. He moved toward you through the water and urged you up onto your knees. He began with a drop of the soap on the cloth and washed your neck and chest softly. He kept on, lifting you to your feet until he got every inch of you, then handed over the cloth.

You took it and unfolded it then folded it outside in. You lathered it with fresh soap and looked at his muscled chest. There were some shallow cuts along his flesh and down his arm. As you got the scars that lined the conjunction of flesh and metal, he stopped you and led your hand back to his stomach. He pushed his metal arm back as he watched you scrub away the grime on his body.

You shied away around his intimate parts but he pulled your hand back. You washed him as quickly as you could and when you were done, he took the cloth and tossed it in a wad beside the bottle of soap. He sat you back down and had you clean his sweaty hair with aromatic shampoo, little groans slipping out each time you touched his scalp.

The water was cold when at last he pulled the stopper and stood. He helped you up with a mechanical yank on your arm and guided you out of the tub. He gave you a towel and took one for himself. He pointed you back into the bedroom with two fingers and you obeyed.

He followed and went to the closet. He pulled out a navy blue tee and crossed to you. He pushed it into your hand and parted again. He dried himself and slipped into a pair of flannel pajama pants. He went to the bed and flopped onto his back with a pitiful sigh.

You glanced over as he looked at you. You patted your skin with the towel and pulled on the large tee. You left your towel with his and went to him as he sidled over on the mattress. He drew you down to lay against him and dropped his arm over your middle. You felt him inhale your scent and his hot breath grazed your scalp.

You still felt him between your legs, his rough fingers against your walls, the noise of his ravenous grunts as he tortured you. You held in a quiver and closed your eyes. For now, he was docile and that was the most you could hope for.

★

You were half-asleep when you heard the door. Bucky was snoring into your hair and didn’t rouse as you turned under his arm and peeked past him. Steve shut the door, certain to snap it into the frame so that the man beside you snorted and woke. The soldier sat up and rubbed his eyes, his hand on your leg, and he squeezed as he looked at the other man.

“Mmm,” Steve hummed as he paced along the bottom of the bed, “you smell better at least.”

He came around your side and you leaned away from him as he reached to tug at the neck of the tee. He let it go sharply and dropped his hand to his hip.

“If you wanna sleep,” he snarled over your head, “you can go right ahead but I haven’t even got a taste.”

You were jarred as Steve grabbed the back of your neck and forced you onto your knees. He pushed you down onto your face as your legs were caught beneath you. He slapped your ass hard and you cried out. The bed jostled and you glanced back as far as you could as Bucky clung to Steve’s wrist and kept him from doing it again.

“What did you think would happen when you took her, soldat?” Steve hissed dryly, “hmm? You think I wouldn’t figure it out? That I wouldn’t want to share?”

Steve kept you pinned as he remained in a deadlock with the metal arm. You whimpered as he squeezed and sent a pang down your spine. You reached back to grasp his wrist and kicked your feet.

“Fine, you want her, you get her,” Steve retracted his hand and yanked away from Bucky, “go ahead and fuck her already.” You shakily lifted yourself on your arms as you sensed the intense gaze above you. Steve pushed you back down and barked, “no, just like that.” He rapped his knuckles on your skull before he stepped back, “get behind her and let her feel who you really are.”

“Please,” you begged, “I… he doesn’t want to.”

You looked at Bucky, his jaw ticked as his eyes sparked. He swallowed through his tight throat and you turned back to Steve as he cracked his knuckles and drew a chair up and sat. He put his feet up on the end of the bed and crossed one leg over the other.

“Is that what you think? You think he cares about you?” Steve leaned his head against his fingers, “he’s just a machine. A tool. He doesn’t think, he only wants and takes.” He pushed his head back and let his arm straighten, “I almost think it wasn’t an accident, just an excuse.”

You tried to push yourself up again and Bucky shoved your shoulder back down. He grabbed one wrist and then the other and pulled them behind your back. He locked them in one hand and his other rippled the fabric of the tee shirt.

“I’m right, huh?” Steve taunted, “this is what you wanted all along. Her tight little cunt.”

“Please,” you whispered as struggled, “please, you can stop him--”

“Who said I wanted to?” Steve snarled, “he’s right, this thing between us has gotten a bit dull so why not try something new?”

You sniffed as tears pricked and you pushed your head up as far as you could. You looked over your shoulder and wriggled as you tried to free your wrists.

“Please, Bucky, please, I know that there’s someone still in there,” you begged, “I know it. You saved me. Maybe you hurt me but you helped me too. If you’d left me, I would’ve died--”

“Yes, you would’ve,” Steve snickered, “and you should be wishing you had. Soldat, I wanna hear her scream.”

You gasped in fear as the captain’s icy eyes bore into yours. There was not a mortal in there, only some unloving monster. Bucky tore your shirt up and it split along the middle to the neck. You reached to the end of the mattress and tried to drag yourself away. Steve hit your hands with his heels so that you retracted them with a whimper.

“Please, no,” you sobbed as Bucky gripped your hips and hauled you back against him, “don’t… this isn’t you, I know it, I know it. You don’t want to hurt me, I saw it--”

Your voice turned to a wisp as he shoved two metal fingers deep in your cunt. You whined and quivered around him as he curled them against the rough patch along the front of your walls. He wiggled his hand until the pressure swelled at his fingertips and you muffled your pathetic mewls in the blankets.

“Y- y- you…” you looked up at Steve and wiped your face as Bucky tore his fingers out of you, “you’re evil.”

“Yeah,” he smirked and ran his fingers along his lips, “I think that’s obvious.”

You turned your face down and bent your arms around your head. You felt Bucky shift behind you and the fabric brush against your thighs as he pushed his pants down. He leaned against you and led his tip between your cheeks. You sucked in air and braced yourself as he lined himself up with your entrance.

He slid his tip into you and you exhaled. You clawed the blanket as he slowly impaled you, your lungs empty and painful as he came to his limit. Your walls stretched around him in agony and you bit down on a wrinkle in the duvet and groaned.

“Oh, aren’t you being so sweet, Buck?” Steve sneered, “hmmm, she’s drooling, huh?”

You lifted your head and blinked at him with a scowl. You flicked your lashes through your tears and your nostrils flared in disgust.

“She’s so quiet,” Steve held your glare and cupped his ear, “I’m waiting.”

Bucky pulled back and snapped his hips against your ass. You hissed through your teeth as a wave of pain rolled up your back and scoured your hips. You lifted yourself on your arms as your eyes clung to the captain’s and you clenched your jaw as the soldier thrust again. You huffed through your nose as your arms quaked with each cruel tilt.

“Harder,” Steve ordered as his grin fell.

Bucky obeyed and slammed into you so hard, your legs tingled and your pelvis felt as if it would crack. You moaned and gritted your teeth. He held you steady as he pounded into you, flesh clapping loudly as stifled grunts escaped him. You grimaced as your eyes wetted and the tears trickled down your nose.

“More,” Steve stood and walked along the bottom of the bed as he looked you over, “faster.

Again, his demand was met fervently. You keened and grasped the blankets as the whole bed shook with the frantic fucking. You hung your head as your voice droned from you in a barely muffled whine. You shook your head as you were blinded by your tears and you sniffed as the pain overflowed and drowned out any hint of pleasure.

You gulped as Bucky bent over you, his sweaty torso to your back and snaked his arm around you. He pulled you with him as he sat back on his heels and moved you in his lap, lifting you only to crash your body back down so that your ribs throbbed with each descent. You latched onto his wrist and touched his stomach as you tried to slow him.

“Let it out,” Steve said as he put a knee on the bed, “almost there… this can be over, all you have to do is scream. I know you want to.”

“Why?” you rasped thinly as your nails dug into Bucky’s arm.

“Ask him, I’m sure you’ll get an answer,” Steve got closer and framed your hips with his hand, pushing you down hard with his hands around Bucky’s, “that’s it.”

You exclaimed as the sheer agony rippled through you and you flung a hand out to slap Steve. You missed and hit his shoulder instead. He grabbed your wrists and pulled them above you, holding your arms up as his eyes trailed down and he watched Bucky guide your motion.

“Not inside her,” Steve warned as the grunts grew louder, “we don’t need that shit.”

Steve yanked you up and dropped you onto the mattress. You folded and wrapped an arm around your leg as you daintily touched your tortured cunt. Steve pushed on Bucky’s shoulder until he fell onto his back and leaned in to kiss him as he grabbed his dick. He stroked him firmly until the muscle flexed beneath his skin.

Bucky tossed his head back and came as the captain led him through his climax. Steve didn’t stop until the soldier winced and stopped him with a gasp. He drew his hand away as the other man reclined and turned to you. He grabbed the back of your head and made you sit up as he faced you.

Steve held up his slimy hand and pressed a finger to your lips and poked inside, “you can clean it up…” he growled, “like his good little pet.”

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #dark bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #dark stucky #dark!stucky #bent not broken #fic #series #dark fic #dark!fic #marvel #mcu #captain america #winter soldier #au #captain hydra

[hometoursandotherstuff]

After seeing hundreds of white homes, (this trend is really getting to me), I finally came across Anna & Benjamin’s colorful Parisian flat. Yay. Mad about their turquoise Chesterfield chairs. 

Anna and Benjamin sit on a bright vintage Chesterfield sofa. The coffee table is by artist Antonin Raymond. The Cubist wallpaper was bought at the Czech Cubism Museum in Prague.

Art and old cabinets impress the hall. A helmet and a work of art are displayed on the Napoleon III era cabinet in the hall leading from the salon.

Mid-century style dining room. The table made in Italy in the 1960s, features uniquely shaped legs. The chairs are retro and colorful '50s Formica (reinforced synthetic resin).

There’s a little gallery on a classic mantel.

A retro-modern Tivoli Audio radio sits on a rosewood sideboard with a glossy finish.

A study corner with a glossy desk and a chair from the Napoleon III era against a blue wall. A portrait of a 19th century woman in a gold frame on the wall has the frame color linked to the gold lamps on top. The floor is laid out with parquet.

The gorgeous bed, with paintings and nacre of seashells, also dates from the Napoleon III era. For the bedspread, Anna chose a bright light blue to match the color of the wall.

Photographs and a collection of old handbags are added between the books. The armchair is from a Parisian restaurant.

A surprise is the huge airplane model hung in a bright bathroom with white tiles. The old bathtub, wash basin, and cement tiles with a retro pattern on the floor give a moderately nostalgic impression.

https://www.elle.com/jp/decor/decor-interior-design/g99019/dpi-edecor1401-benjamin-anna14-0206/?slide=2

#colorful home #antiques #artsy decor