#but they gave us enough in the art book to feed us and keep us going

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

The Hoodoo Apprentice

Summary: Amelia packed her things and took a train to Clarksdale Mississippi to reunite with an old friend, Annie. Annie promised she’d teach Amelia the art of Hoodoo. After a month, Smoke and Stack return with a plan to open a Juke Joint.

Warnings: SMUT

Part One

Rose of Jericho.

Fixed candles, keeping her altar awake and alive, never wanting the energy to go cold.

Prayer books.

Smudge sticks and herbs.

Mortar pestle.

Tarot decks.

Plants from the garden behind her shack.

Annie stood before her working altar, her sacred space. She began praying over her altar, talking to it, shift the energy over it.

All with intention.

It felt right. Serene. Personal to her.

Across from her, watching her intensely beyond the billowing smoke, was her apprentice named Amelia. Amelia wore an olive green, floral, feed sack dress with a ruffled collar. The dress stopped an inch below her knees. Doe eyes concentrated on Annie as she spoke, teaching Amelia all about hoodoo. Something Annie promised her after Amelia’s grandmother passed away.

The South is haunted. Amelia often referred to her hometown New Orleans as the “Land of the Dead,” for so much blood has been spilled in and over her city that death seems to permeate the air. It can be both suffocating and invigorating. Mistakenly thought of as a place time forgot, New Orleans is a town that accepts the presence of the dead and their influence on quotidian life. The presence of ghosts that bring discomfort to the living; the waves of terror and trauma manifesting as deep melancholia.

Amelia remembers her encounter with a medium back in New Orleans that told her dark spirits lived on her porch, and that her grandmother was protecting her beyond the grave, keeping the spirits out. That gave Amelia a sense of pride. She longed to understand the ways of hoodoo, but her mother for as long as she could remember, refused her of any affinity with it. Her mother married a Christian man and Amelia was left with questions more than answers.

She wrote to Annie, remembering her from childhood. Annie was ten years older than Amelia and offered Amelia a chance to visit her in Mississippi sometime if she wanted. Annie was very close with Amelia’s grandmother, so Amelia trusted Annie enough to take a train to Mississippi. She packed two trunks and carried them with her, one heavier than the other and containing all that she could bring that reminded her of her grandmother.

“Ashe…”

“Ashe…”

Annie recapped her Florida water.

“Longer lesson today. You did good, Amelia.”

Annie gave Amelia’s hand an affectionate squeeze. Amelia’s big grin and bright eyes caused Annie to smile.

“A month in and I feel I’ve learned so much,” Amelia studied a rattlesnake root, “I still cling onto the stories my grandmama used to tell me about an old root worker named, Mother.”

Annie nodded her head, “Yeah, she was called Mother as a sign of respect. She was from South Carolina and had great spiritual powers,” Annie says.

“My grandmama would talk about her for hours…her extraordinary ability to control the outcome of situations…”

“That’s why we have to keep the tradition going. This is the tradition of our ancestors…they tried to make us forget…but we ain’t forget our shamanism…” Annie added.

Annie blew out her candles and slipped away from the altar. Amelia followed Annie out of her shack, heading towards the goats. Annie picked up a tin bucket filled with feed and began feeding the goats. Amelia separated towards the back of the shack to tend to the chickens. Dandelion and Pussy Willow circulated around her while she fed the chickens.

Afterwards, Amelia walked down a small dirt path leading to a pond. She stood beneath a willow tree, watching the ripples in the water. One hand slipped into the pocket of her feed sack dress to retrieve a folded letter from her lover back in New Orleans. She reclined against the willow tree, eyes gliding across the wrinkled paper.

To my sweet Amelia,

I’ve waited for you to return to me. I know that our relationship is forbidden, seeing as I’m still married to Odessa. It hurts my heart that you ran away to Mississippi. I want to love you. I want to make you my wife. Odessa won’t divorce. I’m left wondering if we will ever be…

She’d read that letter five times. Still, she refused to continue being with a man that couldn’t give his heart to her completely. Amelia balled up the letter with a tight fist. The sound of footsteps against rocks caught her ear. Amelia perked up, facing the source. Annie was seeing right through Amelia.

“That letter got a hold on you sum’ fierce.”

“What do I do? He was my first…”

Annie tilted her head, “You gots to free yourself from him, Amelia. You let go. Don’t let this weigh down ya’ energy.”

Amelia exhaled, “Am I ever gon’ find love?”

Annie gave Amelia a compassionate smile, “No one is ever gonna love you the way ya’ love yourself. No one is ever gon’ think as much of ya’ as ya’ do yourself. When we think that they are, we build ourselves up to be hurt.”

Annie’s sullen voice as she spoke those words told Amelia that she had to speak that into existence for herself as well. Amelia never pried, but she knew of Smoke.

“Come on, let’s clean up shop and head on back to the house.”

Annie draped an arm over Amelia’s shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s very important to think highly of yourself, to really love yourself. Spirit listens to what we think. It’ll begin to believe that that’s what ya’ want in life. It’s so important to love ourselves, Lia. Ya’ understand me?”

“Yes, Annie,” Amelia leans her head on Annie’s shoulder.

After closing the shack for the rest of the day, they take the twenty minute walk down to the house.

Shaded and hidden, Annie’s home was a comfort zone. You could feel the protective energy the moment you stepped foot on the property. Behind the home, copper stills used to produce moonshine were empty and untouched. Prohibition was still ongoing, so Amelia assumed Annie’s husband, Smoke, was using the stills to make the illegal drink and selling it.

A screened in back porch had an enormous, heavy–duty, galvanized steel tub, a sitting area, and beyond that into the yard was a garden full of produce, greenery, flowers, and herbs. To the left of the garden were clothing lines and several washboards and basins. On the right were the copper stills.

The inside of the home was small and intimate. Annie and Amelia would take turns doing open hearth cooking with cast iron pots and pans, lodge deep fryers, dutch ovens, long utensils, and various mits. Cranes and trammels were used to suspend the kitchenware when it wasn’t being used.

A round, elm wood dining table with four matching chairs sat in the center of the room and towards the entrance of the home were two rocking chairs, a throw rug, and smaller wooden chairs reclined against the brick wall for guests. A small fireplace held photos and sage. While Annie disappeared into her bedroom, Amelia lingered. Beneath the setting sun, Amelia folded her arms against the fireplace mantel and rested her head against her shoulder. She studied a photo of Smoke and Annie.

Amelia ran her pointer finger over the edge of the brass frame. Smoke sat proud next to his wife. Annie stood tall, one hand draped over his shoulder. Somehow, the power of their love seemed to reverberate from the photograph. Amelia could feel the strength of their bond. She craved a bond like that. Needed a taste of what it was like. Even with Smoke gone, Annie knew he would return. She knew he’d be back for her.

to favour you, like you, hire you, love you, marry you, stay with you, return to you, reconcile with you, give you a written recommendation, give testimony in your favour, decide a legal issue in your favour over another…

“Figured we could make a pot of gumbo…add in some fresh okra.”

Amelia turned her attention to Annie. She was tying a half apron around her voluptuous waist. One final look at the photo, she separated herself from the mantle to join Annie.

“Gumbo sounds good, Annie. I can make us some rice to go with that if you like?”

Amelia plucked an extra apron off a wall hook. She brushed past Annie, the flesh of her arm grazing against hers. Annie’s magnetic gaze turned on Amelia.

“Sack of rice is on the back porch. I’m a grab some butter from the ice box.”

Amelia scooped up enough rice for the both of them. Annie returned with butter and other ingredients she needed. A wooden chopping block was covered with vegetables and meat. Annie grabbed a bottle of wine and filled two mason jars with it.

Time passed and the aroma of spices filled the room. Annie kept the back door open for some fresh air since the back porch is screened in. Amelia helped herself to more wine while Annie removed the gumbo from the open flame. The sweat on her skin felt wet and cool as it evaporated. The salty taste of sweat covered her lips. Annie’s rich, dark skin glistened like polished onyx within the low lit room. Her bosom sat up high like a shelf and bounced every time she flounced back and forth.

“You know, you never told me the beginnings of a love story between a Big Six and A Conjur Woman.” Amelia said with an enticing lilt.

Annie flashed Amelia a meek smile, “I didn’t, did I?”

“No. Tell me.”

Annie wiped her hands on her half apron before grabbing her wine. She took a sip before taking a seat at the table.

“When me and my mama came to Clarksdale from Baton Rouge…I was afraid. Afraid to make a new life fa’ myself. I was seventeen. It’s like she knew about Smoke before he even opened his mouth to talk to me, ya’ know? We sort a…found each other. He tracked down the girl lingering outside of her mama’s shack…the shack that became mine when she joined the ancestors…his quiet yet strong presence…”

Annie continued after another sip of wine, “I was…innocent then,” She laughs, “Being with Smoke…I found my voice…with him away…I’ve learned to love myself…I have so much belonging here…my daughter’s grave is here…we share so much history…ain’t no man like ‘em.”

“Wow,” Amelia released a shaky breath, “The hairs on my arms are standing up.”

“Don’t flatter me, gal!” Annie said.

“Serious! It’s beautiful! What’s a girl gotta do to get that typa’ love?! Make a honey jar?!”

“Oh, Lia. Trust me, gal, what me and Smoke have isn’t all glitz and glamour. We have our problems…”

Amelia twirled her empty mason jar. She peered up at Annie with a light–hearted smile.

Annie slapped her hand on the wood table, “Let’s eat us some gumbo.”

Amelia stood from her seat to grab bowls and spoons. Annie stirred the pot of gumbo, and Annie filled the bowls with rice. With two generous servings, they situated themselves at the dining table. Amelia carefully scooted in to avoid scuffing the floor. The first spoonful reminded Amelia of home. She hummed with joy, swaying her legs beneath the table.

the combination of a richly flavored stock, the use of a roux, and the integration of aromatic vegetables, spice, and meat of choice. The dark, deeply browned roux, in particular, contributes a rich, nutty flavor and a creamy texture.

“Like a gris–gris, everything in that pot of gumbo is put in it with intention, all ‘da way down to the roux.” Annie said.

Amelia scraped the side of her bowl with her spoon, “Have ya’…ever…sweetened a situation?”

“‘Course I have! I do it to represent me. So I’m kinder and more loving. I…” Annie ran a finger over the edge of her mason jar, “I wanted to make the love between me and Smoke stronger. Another form of protection.”

“Ah,” Amelia lightly chuckles, “I see.”

Annie grabbed the bottle of wine and shook it gently.

“Empty. I can grab us another bottle, put it in the icebox.”

Annie stood from her seat and stretched her arms. Amelia’s eyes did a quick sweep of Annie’s frame before standing up herself. Amelia thumbed away sweat from her brow before grabbing their empty bowls.

“I’ll clean, you gon’ on a wash up first, Lia.”

“Sure?”

“Yes,” Annie replied with a laugh, “Go on out there.”

“Let me grab my things.”

Amelia walked towards the room she occupied.

She grabbed her wash rag and a linen towel then turned on a kerosene lamp to give the room more light. Amelia began to undress. She stood in front of the wardrobe and reached behind her to unzip the feed sack dress she wore followed by unhooking her cup bra. The cool evening breeze brushed across her tacky skin perking her brown nipples and giving her goosebumps. Amelia shimmied her hips while slipping off her panties with a lace trim.

Amelia wrapped the linen towel around her body before leaving her room. Annie was busy scrubbing the kitchen clean with a brush. She paused as Amelia slipped out into the yard to wash. The minute she stepped out, she dropped the towel from her naked body and proceeded to step into the tub. Amelia used soap that Annie made herself. The scent of lavender and honey filled her nose.

Annie entered the back porch to dry the cookware. Amelia used a bucket to rinse her back, the soap suds glinting against her skin beneath the moonlight. Water dripped from her nipples like the dew on the edge of a leaf. Amelia got the sense that she was being watched. Her doe, brown eyes locked with Annie’s. Quickly, Annie diverted her attention to cleaning.

Neither of them acted on their unspoken desire.

No matter how hard Amelia tried to hide it, Annie always succeeded when it comes to making her heart flutter. It could be the smell of her perfume, a strong botanical character, vibrant and dark, with floral and animalic touches, enlivened with a spicy touch. An olfactory symphony of white, green, brown and red tones, ready to stimulate and connect with internal feelings such as hope, resilience and desire.

The way she walked or her smile. Whatever it is, Amelia gets caught in the rapture every time.

Annie had never been with a woman. Never thought to be with a woman. Amelia has this lustful innocence to her, which is contradictory in nature. A hungry tongue beneath a sheepish grin. She couldn’t explain why Amelia made her feel this way. Whenever she’s near, Annie’s guaranteed to feel warm all over. There is no doubt she’s under Amelia’s spell, effortlessly.

“Annie, could ya’ fetch my towel?”

Amelia stood, the bath water streaming down her body sensually. It continued to cascade as the water within the tub sloshed beneath her feet.

Annie reached for Amelia’s towel and held it open for her to walk into. Ample breast that sat heavy yet firm. Slim but not wasp–like waist. Generous hips. The epitome of an hourglass shape. The breathtaking curve of her plump butt was simply stunning.

“It’s getting a little nippy out here,” Amelia felt the towel encase her body from behind, “Your turn,” She whispered softly.

Annie scanned Amelia’s body before walking away.

Her eyes couldn’t help but to reveal her sexual desire.

Amelia caught it.

“Let me?”

Amelia worked on removing Annie’s blue blouse. A row of buttons down the spine. Amelia undid each one with a methodical touch. Annie shut her eyes and her lips parted with longing. Amelia slithered her fingertips beneath the fabric and guided it over Annie’s broad shoulders. Annie’s hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“You know, Annie…I haven’t thanked ya’ enough for givin’ me a place to stay. For takin’ the time to teach me…”

“You mean a lot to me, Amelia. And I made a promise.”

Amelia began unhooking Annie’s bra. Annie’s pulse quickened. Her body temperature rose as sweat trickled down her spine and between her full, sagging breasts. The air felt heavier. Like the frequency on that porch changed.

Annie turned to face Amelia, her fat titties mouthwatering and inviting. Amelia clutched the front of her linen towel with a searing sigh. Annie undressed from the waist down, belly, hips, and rotund ass revealed. She slithered past Amelia for the tub, leaving her standing there at a loss for words.

“I…I’ll go get dressed,” Amelia held the towel against her tighter, “Enjoy ya’ bath.”

Annie sank into the water, using her hands to drench her breasts. Fiery eyes lingered on Amelia.

“I will, Lookin’ forward to that wine. Nice and chilled.” Annie teases.

Amelia gawked at Annie for a second before gathering herself to enter the house. Back in her room, she cracked her door. Amelia attempted to calm her racing heart. She sat on the edge of her bed and began applying coco butter to her skin from head to toe. A rose pink chemise was folded neatly beside her. Amelia slipped it on.

A soft knock to her door caused her breath to hitch.

“Decent?” Annie called out from the other side.

“Yes,” Amelia opened the door, “How was your bath?”

“Soothing.”

Annie wore an ivory night gown with a scarf on her head. Her skin was also slathered with cocoa butter. She displayed the bottle of wine covered in condensation and dripping water from the icebox.

Amelia gave Annie a radiant smile, “Where to?”

“Drawing room,” Annie turned away, “Come on.”

The phonograph played a Bessie Smith song while Amelia and Annie danced circles around each other with their mason jars full of wine. Tipsy and giggling, Amelia showed Annie how to Lindy Hop. They held hands and twirled and waltzed.

“Oh, come on, Annie! Show me whatcha got! Hips on you I know you gets down!” Amelia exclaimed.

Annie bent over and shook her rump, cheeks bouncing and swallowing the nightgown she wore. Amelia smiled wickedly before shooting Annie a wink.

“Lawd!” Annie fans herself.

“I bet you give Smoke a run for his money,” Amelia’s hands went into her hair to fix it. Curly tendrils fell into her face, “I’m right, ain’t I?”

“He ain’t marry me fa’ nothin’.”

Annie took a seat on one of the chairs against the brick wall. Adding more wine to her mason jar, she watched Amelia dance. She did a solo slow drag with an exaggerated movement of her hips. Annie crossed one leg over the other lip resting on the rim of her mason jar while her eyes were on Amelia. Amelia threw her arms up and twirled, back facing Annie now while she brought her hips low in a forceful manner.

Her rose pink chemise would roll over her ass each time she brought her hips back up and Annie caught a glimpse of Amelia’s pink slit from behind. Hips moving so purposefully, opening her up from behind. Annie exhaled, a knowing look on her face. She could feel her clit pulsating between her generous thighs.

“Lia,” Annie sat her mason Jar down beside her foot, “C’mere.”

Amelia pressed a hand to her stomach, a cunning look in her doe eyes. She stood before Annie. Right between her legs. Annie crooked her head in a way to entice Amelia.

“Turn ‘round.”

Good–natured, Amelia did as she was told. Annie reached out a shaky hand, lifting Amelia’s chemise from behind. Amelia gasped. Two heavy–set ass cheeks.

“Bend over.”

Amelia shifted her feet to widen her legs before bending forward. She grabbed onto her ankles.

Annie sat back in the wooden chair. She toyed with the Santeria beads around her neck with anticipation and slack–jawed. A patch of pubic hair sat above bare pussy lips. Pussy lips that glisten beneath the kerosene lamps. Rosey pink like the satin chemise she wore. Annie spent time studying Amelia in that position. Soon, she found herself sitting on the edge of her seat.

Annie spread Amelia apart. Held her apart with a firm grip. Her sweet pheromones wafted her nose. Annie nibbled on her bottom lip. Amelia huffed when Annie thumbed her pussy lips apart so wide she could feel her clit stretching.

“Oh, Annie…”

The soft lilt of her voice drove Annie to her feet.

“Go to your room. Go.”

It was an order. The conjure woman meant business.

Amelia scurried towards her room. Annie entered soon after. Amelia faced Annie, the thin strap of her chemise dangling from her left shoulder.

“Go ‘head. Take it off. ‘Dats whatcha want, right?” Annie taunted.

“…I do.” Amelia confessed, “And so do you, Annie.”

Amelia wasted no time undressing.

“You ever been wit’ a woman?” Amelia asked.

“No. You?”

Amelia shook her head real slow. She walked to the bed with a purposeful switch of her hips before kneeling on it. Amelia looked back at Annie over her shoulder.

“I’ve heard you…in the nighttime…pleasuring ya’ self, Annie. Smoke’s name on your tongue…”

“Been a long time for me. And then here you come…dragging in your sexy energy. Capturing me wit’ those eyes…and that sweet drawl…”

Annie stood behind Amelia.

“Bend over, Lia. I wanna taste you.”

Soft mewling echoed across the room.

Amelia’s knees experienced discomfort from the thin material of the mattress over the metal frame. Annie was on her knees, nightgown down and around her hips while her greedy lips feasted on Amelia from behind.

Annie sucked.

Annie licked.

Annie nibbled.

Annie kissed.

Amelia had never experienced cunnilingus. Not even with her lover Nathaniel. Annie’s crude slurping and the wet thrashing of her tongue over places that had Amelia clenching up filled the room.

“Annie, yes, feels so good,” Amelia moans, “Please don’t stop priestess…”

Annie with her hooded eyes and lascivious mouth.

She scrunched her face up with arousal whenever some of Amelia’s pussy juice dripped. And boy, was she dripping. Annie cradled her clit between her lips and sucked. Amelia reached around to grab Annie’s wrist.

“I think I’m cummin?”

The sweet and innocent way she spoke those words let Annie know she never experienced such a thing before. Whatever Nathaniel THOUGHT he was doing, wasn’t what Annie was giving her. Pleasure beyond words.

Amelia gripped the sheets and trembled in Annie’s mouth. A trail of her own release dripped like honey to the bed. Annie delivered soft sucks and Amelia exhaled a shaky breath. Annie wasn’t through.

Amelia felt Annie’s lips release her folds. She reached out for her, craving that feeling again. Annie grasped her hand.

“Turn over, I’m not finished. I promise.”

Amelia moved to her back. Annie pushed her thighs open with force. Amelia eyed how Annie’s face was soaked. Her breasts sat on the bed just beneath Amelia’s ass. Annie locked eyes with Amelia and started eating her coos some more. Amelia plucked her nipples.

“Annie, shit…”

Annie worked her tongue, causing Amelia’s hips to arch from the bed.

“Don’t run,” Annie buried her face in it, “Sweet pussy…”

“Unh!”

Amelia snatched Annie’s scarf from her head and grabbed her by the hair. Annie rubbed her hands all over Amelia’s ass lovingly, dragging them down the back of her thighs. Amelia creamed, and Annie twirled her tongue in it to clean it up.

“YES!”

Amelia seized. Annie looked at her, all while slurping on her pussy cat hungrily and with so much vigor.

“ANNIE!”

Amelia sat up on her elbows. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Annie didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. If she could sleep with her mouth latched onto Amelia’s pussy she would.

Amelia gasped when Annie sank two fingers in her.

“So wet,” Annie smiles, “You nasty girl…I’m a give it to you whenever I want it…this pussy mine, hear me?”

“Yes, yours, all yours, take it, fingers so deep—”

“Look at ya’…all this mess…”

Amelia didn’t have to look. She could feel it. Smell it. Hear it. A gushy, sweet release. Annie pressed her lips against Amelia’s while her fingers pumped.

“Annie, Annie, wait, Annie, I’m a pee!”

“Oh, yeah?”

Annie kissed down Amelia’s chest and started sucking on her nipples. Amelia watched Annie’s fingers and she couldn’t believe how drenched down to her wrist she was. That sensation came back again, and Amelia couldn’t hold back. Liquid gushed onto the floor. Amelia watched with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“Fuccccckk!”

“Keep cummin’ good girl…”

Annie rubbed her fingers up and down Amelia’s clit while sucking each nipple. The dual sensation had Amelia nibbling on her bottom lip, fighting back tears.

Annie’s fingers rubbed from top to bottom, slick with her wetness. Their lips collided, wet–smacking and tongues thrashing.

“I wanna taste it…”

Annie reluctantly removed her fingers. She watched Amelia clean them off with a smile.

“Can I taste you now, Annie?”

The desperation in Amelia’s voice.

Amelia dropped her eyes to Annie’s breasts. She grabbed one, lifting it to her mouth. Annie helped her by lifting them and pointing them towards her mouth. Annie shifted her body, keeping her legs wide open, and started sucking on Annie’s nipples. Between licks and sucks, Amelia would release a sensual sigh.

“Their so big, Annie…”

Amelia kissed around Annie’s areola. Annie licked her lips. She couldn’t believe how slick her inner thighs were. Amelia’s pouty lips on her nipples sent chills down her spine. Annie stood, propping one leg on the bed. Amelia took one look at Annie’s bushy twat and dropped to her knees.

“Get in there good, Lia…”

Amelia spread Annie open. She was hit in the face with a pleasant musk that made her smile.

“Damn, Annie…”

Amelia buried her face in it. Annie ground her hips down. She palmed a breast with one hand while controlling Amelia’s head with the other. Amelia circled her tongue over Annie’s clit to bring it out before sucking on it.

“Lia…”

Annie couldn’t see past her belly, but she could feel Amelia’s fervent tongue deep inside and all around.

“Eat this pussy!”

Annie sat on the edge of the bed and with her hand in Amelia’s hair, she shoved her face between her legs again. Amelia lapped her up like a good little bitch on all fours. Annie’s titties touched her stomach and her toes curled when Amelia started sucking up and down.

“Workin’ for ‘dat cum, huh?!!”

“Hmmmm,” Amelia hummed.

Annie smacked her breasts together and brought a nipple to her mouth.

“Fuck, Lia, baby, babyyyyy!”

Her orgasm came crashing down on her. Annie’s eyes bugged out and her mouth fell open in a silent scream.

Amelia kissed Annie’s clit before coming up for air. Annie grabbed Amelia by the neck and stuck her tongue in her mouth. Their heads swayed as they battled for dominance. Annie reached around to pop Amelia on the rump. Amelia thumbed Annie’s nipples.

All night.

All night long.

They ate each other’s pussies.

Annie made Amelia ride her face.

Amelia begged Annie to let her eat it from the back.

Sweat, the funk of sex, and pleasant giggles.

Until they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The chirping of birds woke Annie. The sun peeked through the window, laminating her rich, ebony skin. Amelia was sound asleep next to her, sleeping on her back. Annie sat up, breasts defying gravity. She could still taste Amelia’s pussy on her lips.

Amelia stirred awake. Annie turned in the bed, her breast pressed against Amelia’s back. Amelia glanced over at Annie with sleepy eyes. She looked radiant. Skin a chestnut brown. Annie dragged her fingertips over Amelia’s arm.

“Good mornin’.” Amelia said with a sleepy eyes–laden voice.

“Mornin’ Lia.”

Annie hooked Amelia’s chin, leaning in for a kiss.

“What a night,” Amelia beamed.

“Mhm…”

They rubbed noses before kissing again. Annie palmed Amelia’s full breast that sat up like melons. She twirled her left nipple between her thumb and pointer finger.

“You’re makin’ my pussy wet…”

“That’s what I want,” Annie nibbled on Amelia’s bottom lip, “Let me look at it.”

Annie situated herself on her back. Amelia climbed up reverse cowgirl. Hair in her face, giving her a glamorous look, she looked back at Annie. Amelia rolled her hips, arching her back like a feline. Annie pulled Amelia closer to her face.

“Bounce ‘dat pussy on me…”

Amelia teased Annie’s tongue with her pussy. While Annie slapped her cheeks around, Amelia thrust two fingers in her.

“Annie, you’re so messy,” Amelia moaned, “Such a fat ‘ol pussy…”

Annie ate Amelia to her hearts delight. Tongue all in her pussy, lips all over her clit, slit dripping down her chin.

“Cum for me, Lia, please…”

Annie was desperate for it.

“I’m a drown you, Annie!”

Amelia wiggled her hips and rode Annie’s face hard. It was a sight to see. She looked so beautiful. So majestic. Breathtaking. Annie and all her voluptuous glory with her thighs wide open and toes pointed to the sky. Two sexy, black women delivering pleasure to each other.

“Annie! Oh, Annie!”

Amelia frowned her face as she climaxed.

Annie was close. Amelia climbed off and buried her face in between Annie’s big thighs.

“Uh–huh! Uhhhhhh.”

Annie combed Amelia’s hair from her face so she could watch her lick her button while fingering her wet hole.

“Oooo, Lia!”

The bed dipped from the force of Annie’s release. The metal headboard banged against the wall loudly.

“Damn! That’s good!”

Amelia resurfaces and straddles Annie. She cupped her face and kissed her deeply. Annie wrapped her arms around Amelia’s waist, pulling her in tighter.

“All that cummin’ got me hungry.” Annie said.

“Grits?” Amelia asked.

“You know I don’t pass up on grits now.”

Amelia climbed off of Annie. She found her rose pink chemise and pulled it over her body. Annie watched her with a smile.

“I’ll get the fire goin’!”

Amelia skipped off in orgasmic bliss.

Annie busied herself with getting dressed. She left to the outhouse to relieve herself and then returned to find Amelia mixing grits and adding cheese.

“Smells good,” Annie situated herself next to Amelia, “Grits damn near perfect.”

“Thank you,” Amelia replied with a coy smile.

“Afternoon, Annie! Amelia!”

“Hello, Miss Ruby.” Annie replied.

“How you, Miss Ruby?” Amelia asked.

“I’m well, came to grab me a little devil’s shoestring.”

“Of course,” Annie slipped over to where she kept her herbs.

Annie scanned the shelves twice.

“Shit, Amelia, I forgot to grab the devil’s shoestring from the yard, mind grabbing me some?”

Amelia climbed down from a stool. She smoothed out her khaki dress that fit her like a glove.

“You know I don’t mind, Annie. Anything for you.”

Amelia drank Annie in while discreetly licking her lips. Annie’s breath hitched. Amelia smoothed past her, reaching behind her to palm Annie’s ass out of sight before leaving out the back door of the shack. Amelia made the ten minute walk back to the house. She sang a jazz tune to occupy her time, picking dandelions along the way. In the distance she could see two little girls running towards the shack with pigtails and laughter.

Amelia walked around back, careful not to step on Annie’s plants. She found the devil’s shoestring, grabbing what she needed of it. Amelia placed it over her apron and cuffed the bottom to keep it in place so she could carry it back to the shack. Amelia squinted her eyes against the Mississippi sun, singing the words to a country blues song.

Was in the summer,

One early fall,

Just tryin' to find my

Little all and all

Now she's gone,

An' I don't worry.

Lord, I'm sittin' on top of the world…

“That was fast.”

Amelia handed over the devil’s shoestring. She went over to wait for Miss Ruby to pay.

“Might be back later, Annie. How long are you open today?”

“Depends, might stay til about four.”

“How much?”

“Five cents.” Amelia said.

Miss Ruby paid her bill.

“You ladies have a good one—oh! Lookie!”

Two little girls entered the shack. Amelia waved hello and offered them a lollipop. Annie and Amelia’s eyes met and both of them smiled knowingly at each other. Scenes from last night still vividly remembered.

“You girls behaving?” Annie questioned with a hand on her hip.

“Yes, Miss Annie!”

“That was way too orchestrated,” Amelia teases, “ya’ll sure?”

“We’ve been good!” The eldest of the girls said.

“Mhmmm.”

Amelia finished stocking and placed the wooden stool away.

The sound of a vehicle approaching caught their attention. Annie peered out of the front door, squinting her eyes to see if she recognized whoever it was. Amelia watched the little girls picking out of the candy bowl again. Amelia swept her eyes over Annie, noticing a visible change in her body language. Curious, Amelia walked over to a window to see who was there.

Her eyes fell on the back of a man crouched down before Annie’s baby’s grave. He dusted it off and placed flowers there, and then he raised his head, staring at Annie situated in the doorway. A pause filled with tension followed by strained silence formed between them. As Annie descended the short stairs, she approached the man carefully, her features guarded. The man stood tall, wearing a tailored, charcoal grey tweed suit with padded shoulders and a blue button down. He placed his blue scalley cap on his head as they spoke.

After they exchanged words, Annie turned her back on him and entered the shop. Amelia quickly turned away from the window, the man followed behind her and Amelia froze.

“Just this, Miss Annie…and a pinch of high John…”

Amelia watched the man while she stood behind a counter. She tried to busy herself with rearranging old books, but her eyes couldn’t stray away from him. His presence commanded attention. Stony expression, he grabs a pipe from a hook on the wall. Quiet, imposing, at first glance not too friendly. His eyes snapped to Amelia and she diverted her gaze to the little girls leaving the shop.

“I can’t believe you taken this make believe shit—”

Annie pulled a straight razor on Smoke. Amelia’s eyes widened.

“Smoke you betta gimmie my money for I cut yo black ass—”

“Put that blade away, woman,” Smoke reached in pocket, withdrawing cash, “Take ‘dis—”

“I don’t want yo’ money.”

Amelia felt she was in the middle of something she had no business witnessing. Smoke’s arrival threw Annie off. Amelia remembers Annie mentioning that he’d be back any day now.

“Yo’ money come wit’ blood.”

Amelia stumbled against Annie’s alter on her way towards the back of the shack. Annie focused on her after accepting the money back from Smoke that the little girls gave her. She averted her gaze before clearing her throat to speak.

“Amelia, ‘dis here is my husband, Smoke.”

“…Hello.” Amelia greeted him timidly.

“Nice to meet you,” Smoke surveyed her with a curious expression.

“She’s my apprentice.” Annie revealed.

Amelia shifted her gaze to Annie putting on a smile.

“Apprentice of what?” Smoke questioned with a quirked brow and his lips poked out in annoyance.

“Rootwork. She’s been wit’ me for a month. Came all ‘dis way from New Orleans.”

Smoke eyed Amelia from head to toe. Amelia tried her best not to cower beneath his fierce gaze.

“Welcome to the Delta, Amelia. You in good hands wit’ Annie.”

An awkward silence blanketed them. Smoke looked between Amelia and Annie with a sharp gaze. Amelia felt exposed beneath his onyx eyes. She flinched slightly, spooked by his presence. She didn’t have to know everything about him to know he was ruthless. It was palpable. Radiated from him like the scent of cigarette smoke, elemi, sensual hints of jasmine and lily of the valley.

“I’ll go check on the chickens, Annie.”

Amelia disappeared out the back door, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

Did he sense that Annie and her had sex? The way he looked between them…

Amelia stilled her shaky hands enough to feed the chickens. The fresh air seemed to calm her nerves. She could make out their voices, subtle but clear. After she finished, Amelia sat on a stump and released her long, curly hair from its pinned updo. Her eyes fixated on the shack, deciding to wait a moment before returning. She had to get herself together. Amelia didn’t want to put a wedge between Smoke and Annie.

But the way Annie made her body feel…

Amelia shut her eyes, the wind picking up to cool her skin set ablaze by the images playing in her mind. The sweet tang of Annie’s phat pussy lips against her mouth. The firmness of her lips and the slickness of her tongue. Her moans.

Her moans…

Amelia stood. she crept over to the back of the shack. Amelia peeked inside, keeping herself hidden as best as she could.

“Ton corps ne m’ a pas oubliée…”

Amelia knew exactly what she said. And the visual before her eyes caused her to clench her thighs and gnaw on her bottom lip to conceal a whimper of pleasure. She clung on to the edge of the doorway, grip so tight she could feel the splintered wood prick her fingers.

Smoke bent Annie over, lifted her skirt, and ripped her panties off in one motion. He released a dick so big Amelia’s knees buckled. Smoke used one hand to spread Annie’s abundant cheeks and tapped her wet pussy with his tip. Amelia could hear it. She could hear how wet Annie’s pussy is.

Smoke thrust up into her, Annie releasing a strangled cry. Her face frowned up at the invasion. That pussy needed to be broken in. It’s been way too long. Smoke had a hold of her big hips with his feet planted firm. He looked down on Annie as he delivered sharp, powerful thrusts. His thrusts were slow and precise. Annie’s eyes crossed and her mouth hung open like her jawbone lost its anchor.

Smoke’s expression showed just how much he missed her. Missed that pussy. Missed those hips. Missed the way she tugged on his big dick. Amelia felt her cheeks grow warm. She couldn’t look away. The love making was too intense. Too consuming. Too spell bounding. Amelia’s forehead pressed against her hand. Her free hand gathered the bottom of her dress.

“I missed being in my pussy…”

Amelia whimpered.

She slipped her hand inside her panties. Amelia had to bite down on her hand to keep from moaning, but her body was having a visceral reaction to how soaking wet she was. Amelia wasted no time sinking two fingers knuckle deep. She felt herself drooling over her hand. In and out, in and out, she hiked her leg up on the steps and went to town on that pussy. Creamy sound so loud that if it weren’t for Annie’s moans they probably would have heard it.

Smoke flipped Annie around, picked her up, sat her on the table and threw her legs over his arms. Annie lined him up and Smoke thrust forward, filling her up again with all that dick. They locked eyes and didn’t look away from each other.

“Smoke! You beatin’ it up so good!” Annie cried.

“Tight…so tight,” Smoke ripped the front of Annie’s shirt and tugged the cups of her bra down, “Big tits…fuck…fuck I miss this body…big ass tits…gushy pussy…Annie…”

He attacked her breasts with so much gluttony. Amelia bucked her hips against her hand, the palm of her hand stroking her clit.

“E-Elijah…”

The quiver in Annie’s voice when she said his name before cumming all over his dick…

Amelia focused on the way his thick rod speared her pussy to no end. He kept the same stroke, mouth full of titty meat and his bulging biceps curled around her thighs.

Annie had to grip the edge of the table. Smoke was up in that thang HEAVY.

Amelia covered her mouth when the sudden wave of release washed over her.

“FUCK!”

Smoke slammed into Annie twice more before cumming deep inside of her.

He lowered her legs and Annie pulled him into a deep kiss with her hand around his neck. Amelia gently withdrew her fingers from her pussy and she fixed her dress before sneaking away to wash her hands off in the pond. Still having aftershocks from her orgasm, Amelia had to brace herself against the willow tree in front of the pond.

She crouched down and dipped her hands into the warm water. When she finished, she wrung her hands out before wiping them off on her apron. Amelia heard footsteps near the front of the shack. Peeking around the tree, she noticed Smoke puffing on his pipe. He was situated minus his suit jacket. Smoke circled around just as Amelia slipped from behind the tree.

He watched her closely as she avoided his attention, making her way towards the back of the shack.

“Amelia?”

Annie called for her.

Amelia found herself back inside. The air reeked of sex. Annie had changed into a new top. She lit an oil diffuser with a match. Immediately, the scent of lavender perfumed the room.

“Where’d you go?”

Annie smoothed down her hair and walked with a noticeable limp.

“I went down to the pond…wanted to give you two some privacy.”

Smoke returned, hanging his pipe on the hook near the door again. Amelia’s skin prickled with desire the moment Smoke entered. He adjusted his dick in his pants boldly. Amelia’s eye lids fluttered. He was still as hard as cast iron and almost as thick as her wrist.

“Amelia…you stayin’ wit us?”

Startled, Amelia spoke, “I am,” Amelia glanced over to Annie warily, “If that’s alright.”

“It’s more than alright,” Annie reassured her.

Amelia got the sense that Smoke wasn’t too keen on that.

“I’ll be back tonight. Gotta head into town to meet wit’ Stack…”

Who’s Stack?

“Where he stayin’?” Annie asked.

“Our old home. Fixin’ it up.”

Smoke slipped his cap back on. He walked up behind Annie and kissed her neck several times before slapping her on the ass. Amelia clenched up as if Smoke was spanking her.

“See ya’ later, baby. Amelia…”

Smoke tipped his hat at her as a goodbye.

“Bye for now,” Amelia bid Smoke farewell with a wave.

She had to get it together.

@eggnox @blackisy2k @thickeeparker @theereinawrites @angelin-dis-guise @thee-germanpeach @harleycativy @alexbabyyyy @readingaddict1290 @thedondada05 @blackamericanprincessy @aristasworld @avoidthings @brownsugarcoffy @ziayamikaelson @kindofaintrovert @raysogroovy @overhere94 @sug3rco0k1es @joysofmyworld @an-ever-evolving-wanderer @starcrossedxwriter @marley1773 @bombshellbre95 @nybearsworld @blossom3010 @kykylovesblog @desthefanfc @jeurden23janise @brincessbarbie @kholdkill @honggihwa @tianna-blanche @wewantsumheaad @goddessofthundathighs @nearsightedbaddie @charmedthoughts @beaboutthataction @mynameisnikkinik @girlsneedlovingfanfics @candelalanegra22 @mrsknowitallll @pinkprincessluminary @rissa21405 @chefjessypooh @sk1121-blog1 @contentfiend @kaystacks17 @bratzlele @massivewolfslimeturtle @kirayuki22 @bxrbie1 @blackerthings @intellectualassholee @angryflowerwitch @baddiegiii @mysteriouslycertaincherrybl-blog @syko-jpg @inkdrippeddreams @rolemodelshit

[dreadcubic]

I've been a fan of these games since about 2014 when I got my first Xbox 360. I still remember how horrible my first ever run of Dragon Age: Origins was because I (like a fucking idiot lol) decided not to switch out my gear for better gear. lets just say the final battle was MISERABLE... but I fell in love with the story, and have been replaying the Dragon Age games ever since.

I remember angrily grumbling over the fact that my favorite Turian wasn't romanceable, and settling for Kadan. Don't get me wrong, I ADORE Kadan... but the unholy screech of joy that erupted from me when I played Mass Effect 2 and realized that I could smooch the worlds best Turian?

The memories that the Bioware games have given me over the years are something I will cherish for years to come. The moments in which these works of art have brought me to tears will forever be seared into my memory, never to escape.

At this point, you will have to pry the Bioware fandom from my dead cold hands :'] These are games that I will come back to for years to come because of the characters, the stories, and the nostalgia. I will continue to draw lil pictures of my favorite characters and my OCs, and write little drabbles / long winded fics because I love these universes to bits.

Reblog if you have no intention of leaving the Bioware fandom anytime soon

With the release of the final Dragon Age Inquisition DLC and Andromeda a long way off, interest will decline of course. But if you’re in this for the long haul, stick this on your blog.

[theegemini92]

So a good question was posed ACOTAR CHARACTERS AS REAL PEOPLE on tiktok and I want to also add my two scents lol.

Tamlin:

He would be a very wealthy farmer from old money in Scotland. Perhaps a decedent of one of the great clans. He Lives a quiet life. because of the farming you won’t even think he was basically Scotlands founding father royalty type of a person with an insane family wealth and drama of living up to expectations. One of his rebellious days was when he was in his teens wore a quilt and gave tours of his old town. He loves it there and its people. It’s why his daddy who wasn’t happy, let him. He found out later the positive impact it gave his family. an image of “we mingle even though you’re poor and we are rich” lol (My poor baby is rich n they still won’t leave him alone.) his mum is always so proud of him though. When she died, she left her wealth to him as she’s her bio son and that’s how come he opened his vast farm and generating wealth more wealth. He loves to swim and play his fiddle.

Ratsand Rhysand:

A bastard child raised by a single mum who’s been working hard as a seasmstress. She had dreamt of becoming a fashion designer oneday but she had to put her dreams on hold because she later found out she was pregnant and the man she was with, Rhys dad was a whole married man who promised her the world and shattered it. Because he married for money his wife called the shots and being afraid of poverty he had to stay away from Rhys mum. So she took up the mantle loving this crazy boy. Who eventually grows up, and thanks to his daddy issues he actually becomes ambitious and envious of never having enough. So he studies hard gets a scholarship into one of the best and elite universities and becomes a-finance wall-street guy. he’s been secretly dating older women wealthy through his high school and uni days. He’s paid handsomely of course. he finds a firm to works with. One of the best in all of prythian, Arch Finance. The CEO Mr archeron has three daughters and he doesn’t care who he gets as long as it’s one of them. He wants to settle for Elain but feyre one drunken night at the company event calls him good looking… now they are engaged.

Feyre ferret archeron:

An influencer. She started out with her art by posting them and since she wasn’t getting the views she gets frustrated. Oneday she records herself in these couture heels and dress (from a party she didn’t want to be at) and then her carrier as a fashion content creator started. Now she hates it because she thinks it’s soooooo superficial but she needs the love of her fans. She’s currently loosing followers because she refuses to speak up on social issues like feeeing Palestine and she’s backtracking. Her PR stunt was a video of her engagement to Rhys and people still don’t care. Instead of apologizing. Who knows maybe her next stunt would be a baby idk 🤷🏽‍♀️

Nesta:

Nesta loves her dance studio for little girls. Papa A opened it for her as a surprise for her 20th birthday 5 years ago. She loves handing out with her girlfriends and doesn’t like to act like a rich girl making her friends feel inferior. She’s laid back. Loves reading and has a blog on her books. Her fave is ACOTAR by sjm and she hates cassian and Rhys Infact the whole ic 🤣 she’s actually contemplating on writing a book herself but she’s too shy. But her girls are cheering her on. “You got this Nesta”

Cassturd 💩 Cassian :

Hes child hood bffs with Rhys actually. They grew up together basically because his mum worked at nights and he went hungry so Rhys mum would feed him and keep him till his mum got back. He’s a gym bro who hasn’t been getting views on his socials so he has proceeded to using Sjm books and Rebecca yarros, basically popular books as quotes and references and is actually gaining views from it. He thinks he looks like cassian in ACOTAR with his wingspan training and the girlies are eating it up. Unfortunately he’s actually 5’10 feet and thanks to the camera angles he looks taller but they don’t know that 😜. He’s spotted this girl Nesta at the bar he works at as bartender. He likes her but she’s not giving him a chance at all. Oneday Rhys visit and spots her. He wanting to save face tells Cass about her and quickly leaves, he doesn’t want them to know about his past so now cass feels unworthy and is now deliberately being mean to her because she’s one of those “out of touch rich girls” when it’s actually not true. 🤦🏾‍♀️

Morrigan:

She was married to an older man by 18 by 26 she’s divorced because a sexual assault case came out and he has been me too’d. She writes a tell all book about how she was groomed at 17 by this man in his late 40s and later joins the cast of real housewives of prythian. People actually don’t believe her because ever since she’s been capitalizing off of this scandal and playing victim. There’s a rumor her parents disowned her for a reason however it’s alleged and we don’t know the full story yet.

Lucien van Sara:

He’s an art curator and has a small vineyard in France that he lovesssss. He’s actually a trust fund baby so money ain’t a problem. He loves to collect rare things and sell them at auctions. He met Elain archeron a beautiful socialite and she’s not giving him the time of day. Her body guard ain’t making it easy either. Lucien has one golden robotic eye from a childhood accident. When he and his mother visited Scotland for her birthday. Lucky his good friend Tamlin was there. They’ve been buddies since and he loves going up there to visit. Mostly for his extensive very expensive and rare wine collection 😈😂🤩. Tam is always hidding them but he manages to find one everytime. Or does he really intentionally make it easy? 🤣

Eris van Sara:

Lucien’s older brother. He loves animals and actually studied to become a vet but his manipulative father allowed it only if he went to business school. He’s met Rhys there a few times. He was part of his frat house and he was cruel. But Eris is civil yet he won’t forget Rhysand. He is crushing on Nesta archeron though. She’s beautiful smart and the first time he laid eyes on her at their company function he was smitten. Rhys was there and all of a sudden she seemed uninterested…”what did he tell her? “

Azriel:

Son of a governor. Actually a bastard son. He left for the army at 18 because of how cruel he was being treated by his family. Came back works with the police now and sometimes gets paid extra for being a body guard. He actually loves cars and in his spare time works on them. Since his interest he’s trying to apply to a mechanic school so he can open his shop. The extra money from being a body guard to Elain archeron is really good. But this beautiful social life is not making it easy for him. Her smile her curves her scent… he needs to keep it together because he’s acting like a crazed jealous ex whenever men look at her. Some look away with the deathly looks he gives but others like the van sara guy isn’t backing down. He needs to control himself. His actions like this got him fired when he was protecting Mor who lead him on whenever the old man was not looking.

Elain archeron:

Beautiful socialite. Thanks to feyre she’s mostly seen in the blogs and magazines. Sometimes she thinks Feyre hates her for stealing her shine and takes it on on Nesta which makes no sense? She really doesn’t try to. Since her finance cheated on hot someone else pregnant she’s been spiraling a little bit so daddy had to get her a body guard. He’s hot but…. It’s just… it’s her hormones talking at this point.

Amren:

A crazy goth girl who owns an old record store that barely has people coming in these days thanks to social media

[inkabelledesigns]

I know I'm posting a day late here, but Happy Birthday Bendy! February 10th, 2024 marks the 7 year anniversary of when Bendy and the Ink Machine came out. And boy, has it been a wild ride. Normally I would reserve this for my Bendy sideblog, @angelofthepage , but I'm posting it here because this is where I started years ago, and I want some of those people who don't see that blog to have a chance to see this. Because you guys are a part of this story.

In about three months, seven years ago, I was in finals hell, working through my process book for my packaging design class in one of the dorm lounges while my roommate had taken the room for herself again. And the only thing keeping me sane was putting Can't Be Erased and Build Our Machine on loop as I worked. BATIM only had two chapters out, and I didn't know everything about it, but I was so intrigued by what its deal was. I took one look at Sammy Lawrence and I wanted to know everything about him. Something about this barely started game, the idea of your characters coming to life to kill you, it thrilled me, intrigued me. It was something I was really afraid of, being so attached to my characters and putting so much of my identity in my art. And while the story isn't really all that much about cartoons themselves being alive, it gave me something else that ended up changing my life.

Over that summer, I would become obsessed, and for the first time in years, I let myself be a fangirl again. And maybe one day I'll pull up the timeline and tell you how it all went down. But right now, after all the celebrating of yesterday, I just wanna take a moment to appreciate the last seven years. All the people I've met, all the friends I've made. All the experiences we've had together, big and small. Some have been incredibly close, and others have been people I still smile about whenever I see them on my feed, even if we're not all doing stuff in the same fandom anymore. There's some people I've fallen out of touch with that I likely won't ever see again that I miss. There's some I'll be lucky if I never see again. There's the official voice actors for Dark Revival, which I've had the pleasure of working with on community things here in the fandom. I regularly moderate their livestreams (or Lovestreams as we call them) where they sign prints and interact with us fans (and sometimes I'm tech support, once an ink machine technician, always an ink machine technician xD). I'm honored to call a lot of them my friends, we've had some truly wonderful conversations. I've spent a lot of time in a variety of servers, trying to uplift people and make for a positive fandom experience for everyone, fans old and new. Sometimes it lands me in interesting places, like helping out over on the Inky News channel. The host, Brandon, invited me over to guest star on his anniversary stream yesterday, and in the past I've been fortunate enough to showcase my art on two of his interviews, one with Dave Rivas and one with Adrienne Kress. Sometimes it lands me on fun projects, like working on a fan game, and for the first time it's not as a voice actor! I'm a writer. I've had my work uplifted in turn too, meeting people who value me for me and also cheer me on when I try new things (sometimes entirely new mediums like doll customizing). I got my first helpful constructive critique in this fandom, and it was something I ASKED for. That is a huge personal milestone! I have a really complex and twisty set of feelings about critique, and finally, I feel better, because someone helped me start to unravel that just by being themselves and being thoughtful. It's inspired me to want to be better in how I handle critique and problem solving with others.

I spent so much of my life putting my self worth in other people's hands. I thought I would never be good enough to have friends who didn't treat me like garbage. I thought I'd never be a good artist in any sense of the word either. But I was wrong. I've grown. I'm valued, I'm wanted. I don't have to hide parts of myself to be desirable. Sometimes being the silly, goofy, fangirl that is Kat is enough. My art is enough, my ideas are enough, my flavor is tasty, and I am a goddamn treat. And after so many years of not knowing that, I'm glad I finally do. And it's all because of the people. It wasn't ever that my flavor was bad, it's that I hadn't found people with a taste for it yet. Bendy's greatest gift was giving me a fresh start, a chance to meet new people, good people, and for that, I'm forever grateful. Even though things have changed, I'm glad I met each and every one of you, you all taught me something valuable along the way, and I think about those experiences we shared often.

I won't lie to you, I've been rather frustrated with Bendy lately. And I think a lot of it has to do with the games not truly having grown with me. At some point our paths deviated, and there are elements of what's come and what's coming that are getting away from what really enticed me about the very first entry, the things I valued most in it. But in some ways, analyzing that has led me to figure out what made that first game so special. It was human. It was a character focused game, and each of the characters, while vague, gave us just enough about themselves that we could feel for them, get invested, imagine, maybe even sympathize. Everyone is a tragedy, but they're all different flavors of tragedy. And it was seeing people explore that, seeing people write these characters in ways that were so human, that really built a connection. For some people, Bendy is another indie horror experience. For others, it's something to indulge in that hits hard on a personal level. In many ways, it attracts a lot of us who feel like misfits. It's many things. But to me, the magic was in the people. The people in this universe, and the people in its real world community.

It has solidified my belief that people should play with fiction however they want, no matter how far it deviates from the canon, no matter how weird it is. Go be interpretive, go tell your story, go be free to make what speaks to you! (All I ask is that you're thoughtful about tagging it so people can make smart choices about engaging with it.) All stories are worth telling. Even if no one gets into it, having told it makes a difference.

Whether you're someone who's been there from the beginning, or someone that's new to Bendy, I hope you're all having fun. Whether you've finished exploring the world or you've just begun, I hope you've found something valuable. Thank you, for coming along for the ride. Here's to many more fun experiences and stories, be they official or be they in the fandom. Happy Bendyversary!

[monster-rinds]

Developing my cover art

So far, this is so much better than the last design. It's also reasonably modular, on different layers, so I can resize the elements to fit the book dimensions. Though, I'm probably going to go for a book format that fits this art, because I like it the way it is.

In the meantime, have an excerpt from my book:

---

As every human caught a glimpse of the little doodle of a monster eye, it would open up a sort of psychic portal in their mind made of metaphor and symbolism, and Felicity could extend a tendril of herself into their mind. She could even jump her whole self over from one vessel to another, in order to reach me as quickly as possible when it was necessary.

It also allowed her to keep her primary vessel, which could be recognized, off the premises entirely.

But she couldn’t reside in my psyche because I’m a monster, another emanant. Once she attempted to enter my mind, she’d initiate feeding, and presumably neither of us wanted that.

And, she only inhabited a minor percentage of the crowd. Enough to be nearly everywhere, but there were still plenty of people who weren’t host to her. Not everyone happened to glance at one of her glyphs.

This all made the idea of me trying to be caught alone in the bathroom really terrifying, because she wouldn’t have actual eyes on me in there. But, it would probably be the only way to lure a predator to strike if there was one stalking me.

However, we’d planned for that. If there was a predator stalking me, they wouldn’t be waiting in the restroom, they’d be following me to see where I went. So Felicity would hopefully have eyes on them right up to the point that they decided to enter the restroom with me. And she’d strike as they stepped in.

Or something like that.

As I walked across the hallway, humming the movie's theme song to myself, hands in my legging pockets like a dork, I gave a look around at the crowd.

There were a couple of families making a bee-line for the restroom, along with a couple other people, so when I went in there I’d have to use a stall or do my makeup or something until everyone else left. That was to be expected. Taking the disguise of a woman made it a little easier to stall, because women tend to be expected to do a wider range of things while in a restroom.

And, I caught a glimpse of two other women behind me yawning simultaneously. Strangers in perfect synchronization.

That was Felicity’s signal. She’d spotted her target, and everything was in position.

[stardustlives]

GOTY 2024

The games keep comin'. Another list of games I played throughout the year I thought could be worth mentioning during a game of the year discussion. This list continues to omit games I've replayed and games I didn't think were good or interesting enough to get a mention.

Games of the Year

1)Yellow Taxi Goes Vroom Now is the era of indie 3D platformers all about insane movement tech. Was utterly elated by the energy and level design in this car based platformer where your primary traversal ability is ramping off of stuff. Please give the demo a shot I think you'll find something really special here.

2)Metaphor: ReFantazio Fantasy Persona. After just being okay with Persona 5, I got completely engrossed with this one and its world. I enjoyed how demanding some later fights became as they had me actually do significant changes to my party and strategy to overcome them. In these times of games that are way too fucking long, this was a rare instance of me getting bummed by seeing the end of the adventure on the horizon.

3)Astro Bot The degree of polish in this thing is on another level. Individual stages feel like an entire event as they'll each treat you to lavish set pieces and elaborate, unique mechanics. A joy to give yourself to while looking for cute cameos from PlayStation's history. Now, concerning those cameos, you might think they would prioritize the recognizable mascots or big sellers, and while those are in there, Astro Bot will also grab you by the shoulders, look you straight in the eye and go: "Arc the Lad." It's awesome.

4)Nine Sols Fresh off of their struggle against Xi Jinping, narrative horror game developer Red Candle Games decided to take a swing at a tight, execution heavy, parry focused, action exploration game. And boy what a swing it is. Its intense action is backdropped by a cool comic book art style that it uses to deliver a beautiful melancholic story about one's time passing. Strong mood and fantastic boss fights.

5)BAKERU The Kirby's Epic Yarn developer made a Ganbare Goemon spiritual successor. Everything's bouncy and joyous. This thing's a non-stop party with regular enemies spread across levels having a silly good time just for the fun of it. The bright colors and bad guys hanging out gave me Ape Escape 3 vibes.

6)Animal Well There used to be a time where video games were occult and mysterious. Not because they didn't have tutorials but because the tutorials were written down inside manuals and we didn't read those. Nevertheless! This feeling of mystery kids make for themselves by being impatient is what Animal Well wants to emulate in its own atmosphere and design. The game refusing to textually explain itself instead presenting you with situations that nudge you towards uncovering its functions yourself leading to great feelings of discovery.

7)Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree Elden Ring 2 over here. Loved the new weapon types and its gorgeous environments. Don't got too much new to say about more Elden Ring other than I mostly enjoyed the controversial high difficulty. But, boy, they can ease up with the next one. They gave entire boss move sets to regular respawning enemies. They don't got nothin' to prove it's okay.

8)Tekken 8 Tekken's fucking awesome. As a casual player, the intuitive nature of the controls allows them to be easily expressive. It's a great time at even lower skill levels which is not always the case with highly regarded fighting games. The (on release at least) downright reasonable progression mechanics made me reevaluate Mortal Kombat 1 from the prior year pretty negatively by reminding me that even in a "live" game, progression systems can be about drip feeding game elements and rewards to the player without being entirely about maximizing their time in a microtransaction store.

9)Grapple Dogs: Cosmic Canines Grapple Dog is back and he's the latest platforming mascot to find an interdimensional portal with an edgier version of himself in it! She's got a gun too, watch out! Develops the design of the first game further with some new powerups that bestow special abilities for the duration of a level.

10)Crow Country A uniquely stylish nostalgia play on your classic Silent Hills and Resident Evils. It has a grainy 90's atmosphere over toy-like characters and environments that seem to either elicit a creeped out "analog horror" vibe for some or nostalgic coziness for others. I lean in the second camp. Either way, a very compelling diorama world to explore.

An Ample Selection of Runners-up

11)Penny's Big Breakaway Era of insane movement tech again. Same developer as Sonic Mania which I'm more critical about than most people. Mania is beautiful and has wonderful music but I frequently felt like I was just holding right and watching the game happen rather than playing it. Not here, this is a very involved 3D platformer with many synergizing movement options. Difficulty can be a bit inconsistent as some challenges give me the impression of having been only tested by people who got very good at the game as members of its development team. While most of the game is pretty chill, it will sometimes spike and demand very sharp execution from you. The high skill ceiling is definitely its own appeal though.

12)UFO 50 I spent the entirety of this thing's development thinking it was going to be 50 minigames so I was like "what's taking so long?" but no, this isn't 50 minigames, it's 50 games. Mostly at the scope of NES games but still. In the 50+ hours I put into it I ended up clearing 11 games and cherry clearing (completionist clearing) 7 of those. There's some meat on them bones and I want to go back to 'em. Getting into specifics for each games would be an essay on its own, but, hey, you want 50 NES games that are almost all at least pretty good?

13)Instruments of Destruction Red Faction: Guerilla developers got together to make a hybrid between Blast Corps and Besiege. In the main campaign you use a kinda shocking amount of unique vehicles to fulfill destruction objectives in various combinations of destroy this, don't destroy that, do it fast, dodge the missiles… always with a new kind of goofy ass car that might just act like a bulldozer or have a giant flipper at the front. Then, in the second campaign, the game fully turns into Besiege asking you to build your own motorized solutions to the blight of upright man-made structures. I fell off of that second one but the Blast Corps style main campaign was great fun the whole time.

14)Dread Delusion A tiny indie team taking on the task of making an entire Elder Scrolls game taking particular inspiration from the odd vibes of Morrowind. Extremely ambitious and inheriting the limitations of its inspirations both in the form of simplistic gameplay and not infrequent technical issues (though they did patch the game heavily and quickly). Limitations or no, I cannot speak highly enough of the creativity that courses through the world and its distinct lands. From its blighted medieval countryside to its, uh, blighted but worse and more fucked up industrialized Siberian snowlands. The real appeal to me is hanging out in the wonderful, imaginative world to learn of its factions and takes on supernatural concepts like ghosts, undead eating habits and relationships to what one might call gods.

15)Children of the Sun Devolver Digital presents: JFK Reloaded. You're a young psychic woman with a Mandy-esque beef against a freaky forest cult. The game has you scout the positions of cultists whom you must then take out with a single bullet whose path you can influence with a small suite of powers. Starting with the ability to "refire" the shot in a new direction after a kill. Each level is a pathing puzzle all about achieving some real grungy Yondu shit.

16)Final Fantasy VII Rebirth Oh boy. I have such mixed feelings here. Remake's excellent combat system is still here as good or even better than it used to be thanks to new playable characters and new mechanics they sorta have to sneak onto the controller. The environments are mostly great (except the jungle which sucks) as well as beautiful but much of the game is spent doing map clearing stuff, uneven sidequests, and mediocre minigames. I find much of this version of the story awkward as well. The pacing suffering most of all both from the sluggishness that comes from the map clearing open world design and the relentless maximalism that comes from the developers' decision to turbo stuff every moment of the story. High highs low lows and a whole lot of mediocre faff in-between.

Something I've thinking about a lot is how much substance is actually present in longer games and how that compares to games of more modest length. My somewhat thorough replay of the original FF7 in 2020 took 60 hours. My similarly thorough playthrough of FF7Remake (covering the 4~7 hour Midgar section of the original) took 40 hours. Rebirth, which runs until the end of disc 1 of 3, took over 100 hours and its mostly mediocre 6 hour final dungeon lasted longer than a full playthrough of my third favorite game Zone of the Enders: The Second Runner and its extra mode, Zoradius, a simple take on a 3D Gradius. Just something I couldn't get out of my mind all the way through that dungeon. The fights against the red dragon and wall monster were very good.

17)Great God Grove You're on your way to vacation in the titular GGG when you come upon the near divine instrument known as the Megapon which allows you to speak to people! Or, more specifically, repeat shit you're told! Wow!! From the same developers as Smile For Me this is also a wholesome little adventure about getting an adorable cast of oddballs to understand each other. If you've any taste for Psychonauts this is absolutely down your alley.

18)Frogun Encore Tiny sequel to Frogun (mentioned in the Catch Up section) with new mechanics and camera perspective. Encouraging even wackier speedrunning tech than the original. Very much worth playing both.

19)Pepper Grinder Handful of tiny games down here. A Devolver published joint in the style of a GBA game all about zooming through dirt with a large drill to collect treasure and perform sick jumps.

20)The Rise of the Golden Idol Outside of some quality of life adjustments to the UI this is mostly more of The Case of the Golden Idol. Which is good because while the original deduction game is very good you kinda can't play it again. You've already deduced everything there is to deduce. Taking its world that's much like ours but not quite to modern times means taking modern technological trappings in consideration while thinking through the incidents.

21)Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door A mostly slightly better version of Paper Mario: TTYD. Still a great game but not different in ways that are excessively worth noting.

22)Eiyuden Chronicle: Hundred Heroes Ups and downs. It has a 6 hour long prologue that is almost lethally boring but once it gets going after the first war segment I enjoyed it. A word I kept coming back to when I was trying to figure out my feelings for it was "cozy". This is sort of the platonic ideal for a PS1 style JRPG and how appealing you find this will depend on how cozy the PS1 JRPG form is to you. Unfortunately, carries over the PS1 JRPG characteristic of a wonky localization where it seems the writer and voice director simply did not speak to each other. Very odd changes ignoring what the original work was going for especially in sidequests. There's group of 4 characters that are clear parodies of shonen archetypes in their dialogue and designs but the voice direction is just doing something else. So similar to Suikoden 2 I might recommend you just play Suikoden 1 then that instead but if you want something comfortable and familiar I enjoyed it as comfort food.

23)Dragon's Dogma 2 Second attempt at trying to "get" Dragon's Dogma. Really loved the skill system but did not vibe with its idiosyncrasies and caprices. I wish its game design had either been way more normal or way weirder. Appreciate that if they're gonna have ridiculous fantasy slut garb the dudes can put it on too.

24)Berserk Boy We will simply never run out of indie takes on Mega Man and we should be grateful, frankly. This one's not the best out there with some frustrating jank, even softlocking me during an optional challenge which turned me off of all of them but it's neat all the same. People who make these have a good tendency to ensure they feature unique ideas and make their games interesting in their own right.

25)Froggo's Adventure: Verdant Venture Teeny weeny little Kirby's Adventure inspired tiny small thing. You're a frog who suspects a witch girl might have maybe stole something from your well so maybe you should go to her house and beat the shit out of her? Maybe! It's less than $1.50 CAD and a good time for it.

26)Nightmare Kart Formerly Bloodborne Kart until Sony said no literally a day from release. Kinda funnier than it's fun but benefits from a "you get what you pay for" valuation as it's free.

27)Starstruck: Hands of Time A meditation on the blurry line between inspiration and plagiarism and the ways one is necessary to enriching an ever developing creative inner world while its nearly indistinguishable sibling is a harbinger of rotten, even apocalyptic, stagnation. This game has right in its main menu a bibliography of inspirations featuring the likes of Chulip, Kare Kano, and Richard Wagner. On that last one, it's impossible and arguably irresponsible to discuss ol' Deutschland Dick without mentioning his influence on Adolf Hitler which the game will momentarily do, awkwardly maintaining a wholesome veneer while non-specifically gesturing towards a "dictator". I'm gonna be blunt here I did not like this one. It has an issue typical of creative projects without much oversight where it eventually ends up with its head a ways up its own ass with the metaphors and references. I spent most of its climax muttering "fuckin' wrap it up" to myself. Some of its gameplay is a not great rhythm game with an uneven soundtrack. "Break the Mold" is the closest it has to Gitaroo Man's Legendary Theme and it sucks ass.

Despite all that it's an interesting text worth interacting with if the word "different" is important to you when used in relationship to video games.

Catch Up

God of War: Ghost of Sparta (2010) Bastion (2011)

Tyranny: Gold Edition (2017) Tyranny is set in a world where evil has won and you, as an exceptional individual, have been scouted to be a "Fatebinder" a sort of a wandering lawyer/judge/executioner representing the judgement of Archon of Justice Tunon the Adjudicator, highest authority beneath Kyros the Overlord. The game denies you the ability to make a morally clean character as before the game begins in earnest you'll be made to determine your history as mediator between two of the empire's brutal armies: The uncompromising supremacist Disfavored and the infernal snarling horde of the Scarlet Chorus.

Regardless of how many games I play I still have blind spots, CRPGs being one of them. Ahead of playing Baldur's Gate 3 I wanted to get my feet wet and train my ability to lean into roleplaying, play a character whose values differ from mine and accept less than optimal resolutions. I struggled at first but what really unlocked the roleplaying for me was the Reputation system. The first companion who joins you is Verse of the Scarlet Chorus and I utterly hated her. Going through her dialogue tree and learning about her was initially exhausting to me and threatened to make me bounce off of the experience until after a particularly unpleasant story the game gave me the opportunity to bluntly call her disgusting. The way Reputation works in tyranny is that you concurrently build Favor and Wrath with factions and Loyalty and Fear with companions. One does not take from the other like in say, Mass Effect, there's no wrong answer there's just what your character would do. Leaning into my hatred for the Scarlet Chorus committed me to a character which let me have a great time learning about Tyranny's layered world. Sorta peters out in the 3rd act in, what I'm told, is common for CRPGs but the way there was always compelling.

Yuppie Psycho (2019) Demon Turf (2021) Demon Turf: Neon Splash (2022)

Scorn (2022) First person atmospheric adventure all about diving into an H.R. Giger-esque world. Freaky and gorgeous. Many people struggle to get what the combat expects of you which is that as much as possible you do not want to be in a fight. You want to let creatures pass and you only want to hit them so they're staggered enough to let you bail. Worth playing if you want to be in this sort of atmosphere.

Frogun (2022) Adorable platforming adventure with tight levels where you use the tongue of your "Frogun" to zip across gaps. Every level is to be done twice: first as a collectathon and routing exercise and then as a speedrunning challenge where the level design allows and enjoys ridiculous skips that will satisfyingly cut down your time to a fraction of your initial playthrough.

Marvel's Midnight Suns (2022) Okay so the on-ramp is too long and it drags real bad at the end and it's got (pre-mcu) Buffy era style Joss Whedon dialogue you might find grating but hear me out: Once the game gets going for real its system of one-shotting mooks, tossing them into each other, to build Heroism points that can then be cashed in for bigger moves produces a rhythm and strategizing I've never seen in any other tactics game. It's a great time.

Lunacid (2023) I was never really impressed or into creepypasta style horror but this thing marries it to shockingly potent effect with King's Field style pacing and atmosphere. Made by a very small team its got some wonky balancing but the mood is something else. Very high recommendation for anyone who takes pleasure in exploring odd, eerie spaces.

Like a Dragon Gaiden: The Man Who Erased His Name (2023)

Turbo Overkill (2023) First weapons you get are dual wielded laser magnums followed by laser SMGs that are also dual wielded. A button press will make a chainsaw burst from you cyborg leg and launch you into a high speed slide at no cost. In some ways this thing feels like it's trying to be The Final Boomer Shooter, going for peak stupid meathead video game fun.

Orbo's Odyssey (2023)

Lies of P (2023) My favorite non-FromSoft Souls game. Can Timothee Chalamet become a real boy? Derivative in nonnegligible ways but things like the weapon combining system and Pinocchio theming help keep it apart.

Baldur's Gate 3 (2023) Oh boy I might have played this gigantic thing twice in a row. Spunky little indie sleeper hit you may not have heard of; I gave it a year to truly complete its early access period. I loved it. I loved roleplaying as a Vengeance Paladin struggling against the Dark Urge, I loved the party (except Lae'zel) and loved the build making. My second playthrough was all about goofy multiclasses and gave me a real taste for it.

PARANORMASIGHT: The Seven Mysteries of Honjo (2023)

A More Modest Than Usual Selection Of Retro Games

Jumping Flash! (1995)

Jumping Flash! 2 (1996) Hadn't played this since I was 6 when I got lost in the second world's "maze" level even though these are little games for little babies that a little baby could play. Don't know what was wrong with me. Very neat looking and a fun look back to a time before standardization when there wasn't a set way to make a first person shooter or any sort of game for that matter.

Final Fantasy IX (2000, HD 2017)

The Adventures of Cookie and Cream (2001) FromSoftware experiment in making an entirely co-op game where each player runs through puzzle platforming to allow their partner to make progress. Played through this with a friend and it was a great time.

Looney Tunes: Sheep Raider (2001) Sheep, Dog 'n' Wolf outside of North America, a puzzle game based on the Ralph Wolf and Sam Sheepdog Looney Tunes cartoons where you as Ralph have to use ACME contraptions to steal sheep from under Sam's nose. I was impressed by its capacity to emulate the cartoon's animation style with PS1 graphics and each stage having unique mechanics that never show up again. There's some real head scratchers in there too.

Ratchet & Clank 2: Going Commando (2003)

Ratchet: Deadlocked (2005) Going Commando was alright but I was annoyed with every part of it that wasn't just Ratchet & Clank combat. Then I remembered a rental from my childhood, like, hey, you know what game is nothing but Ratchet & Clank combat? All about leveling up your goofy ass guns so they get even goofier. Awesome time.

Call of Duty 2 (2005) You like that? You like me calling Call of Duty 2 a retro game?

Missed games I'd like to get around to when I can make time. The video games… Please... they are too good…

FANTASIAN Neo Dimension Freed from apple arcade, rub and tug diorama Final Fantasy.

Sorry We're Closed Resident Evil: Dead Aim by way of Silent Hill and Grasshopper Manufacture.

Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown I bought this months ago and never made time for it! Despite being a lifelong Ubisoft and Rayman hater, it's my opinion that Ubisoft Montpellier's Rayman Legends is an all-time great so you can imagine how upset I was when their next highly well received game didn't sell enough for Ubisoft's tastes so they shot the whole team in the back of the head. Eager to play it and complete my mourning period.

Dungeons of Blood and Dream Nasty ass grungy first person roguelite sorta thing.

Romancing SaGa 2: Revenge of the Seven I gotta actually sit down and give a SaGa game a real shot and this one sounds way weirder than its art style suggests.

Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth Genuinely not sure if I wanna play this one. It'd be the first Ryu Ga Gotoku game I skip but the length preemptively exhausts me. If I choose to play it, I need to figure out how I want to interact with it.

Flintlock: Siege of Dawn Played the demo which was alright and was intrigued by the exp system which has you gamble a multiplier. You never lose the exp but you might lose the bonus.

Kunitsu-Gami: Path of the Goddess Great demo for a well focused, weird game; couldn't make time for it!

Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine 2 Neat looking "good kind of a 7 out of 10" I don't want to pay for. Maybe after a deep discount or through alternative means once it's fully updated.

Gundam Breaker 4 Don't know if I could make time for it but I love designing robots.

Dead Rising Deluxe Remaster Do I wanna play this? Do I wanna just replay the original?

Judero Whole stop motion world made with old customized figures, I wanna see it!

Slitterhead Demo for this one by the Silent Hill 1 and Siren director was rough but I'm still intrigued.

Mario & Luigi: Brothership Need to hear more about this one to know if it's a return to Superstar Saga quality or if it carries the issues of later Mario & Luigi RPGs

Sonic X Shadow Generations They made a good Sonic game? Seemingly titled like a slashfic?

S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2: Heart of Chornobyl Want this to be my way to "get" S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Gonna do the same thing I did for Baldur's Gate 3 and give it a year of updates.

Indiana Jones and the Great Circle Got frustrated at how effusive the reception to this was because it made it something else to add to this bloated list. Good problem to have.

Kura5: Bonds of the Undying A free Boktai fangame that seems very cute.

[laurenetuttle]

Moorea Day 4 (July 6th, 2023)

Today was such a fun day! We were up bright and early! We got up at 6 am to get ready for the day. We had a morning snorkel tour booked and they came to get us at 7:25 am! So we ate breakfast quickly. Breakfast is by far the best meal of the day at the resort. We even saw a complete rainbow across the sky as we were eating! We had to rush back to the room to finish getting ready and pack up all of our stuff! We were switching to an overwater bungalow. So we had to check out of the prior room before the snorkel tour and have them get all of our belongings and then hopefully put them into our new room when it was available. With a little bit of rushing, we got it all done and got picked up for the tour!

We were on a lovely catamaran for the morning with two guides and then three other pairs of people (all couples). So there were only 8 passengers on the boat, which was nice. We had three snorkeling stops this morning. The first stop was at a location where there were tons of sting rays and sharks!! Friendly rays and sharks though. Apparently no worries for attacks or stings. Apparently a lot of tour groups actually feed the animals there, so the rays can actually come right up to you looking for food! So we swam around! I got to use my go pro with the dome to get some cool pictures and videos. While I was distracted, a ray came up to me and touched me! I quite quickly moved out of its way. No rays or sharks are going to eat me! My mom and I both wish we had more time swimming with the rays and sharks! On the way to that first stop, we also saw a pod of dolphins and I saw a few turtles swimming as well! We then headed over to the second stop on the tour, coral reef gardens! It’s this huge area in between two mini islands that has a ton of coral and fish. We were given some bananas to feed the fish. Sure enough, some fish came up to me to eat the banana out of my hand! My mom accidentally squirted the banana out of the peel and didn’t get to feed the fish. But we did some good swimming and saw a ton of different types of fish. Around that time, there was a huge storm that rolled through and it was pouring and very windy! But we were already wet, so it didn’t matter when we were in the water. When we got out, however, it was quite cold! They put up some plastic covering across the interior of the catamaran to protect us an keep us warm for a little bit. We also had some fresh juice and fruits as a snack. We then sailed over to the third stop, which was a cultural/art exhibition. Apparently 25 years ago, an artist sunk 8 statues/tikis he created. So we went and snorkeled around those and took some pictures! The go pro worked out pretty well taking some awesome pictures and videos. Unfortunately, my mom is still fine tuning her underwater photography skills. But there is some photographic evidence that we were both swimming at all three of the stops! By the third stop, the storm had also cleared and it was back to being nice and sunny! They gave us some mai tais to enjoy along our ride back to the dock. We were on the water for about 4 hours. We wish the tour was longer! We both had so much fun! Would definitely do again!

We then got a ride back to the Hilton. We didn’t think our room would be ready until the normal check-in time (2pm), but when we arrived, our room was ready and our stuff was already transferred into it! And it wasn’t even noon! They have fantastic service at the Hilton here. We’ve had such a great experience so far. They then let us take a golf cart ride to our overwater bungalow!! It is surreal to be staying in one! Such a bucket list item! After checking out our new digs for the next 2 nights, we headed out for lunch. We split a pizza and had some views of the storm and rain that were intermittent during the day. After lunch, we walked to a little cafe cart a little bit down the road from the Hilton. It is this French man who sells baked goods and drinks from a little pink cart! We both enjoyed some mango passion fruit sorbet. We also got some macaroons and a bookie for later! We ate our sorbet while looking over the water. It was so lovely. After our afternoon snack, we returned to our bungalow. I went for a little swim and my mom had a nap. We then both spent some time lounging on the patio outside, listening to music and the ocean and doing some reading and more napping. Perfect afternoon!

As dinner approached, we got ready and took some golden hour pictures as the sun was setting. We then headed to the front of the resort and we were picked up and brought to a restaurant on the other side of the island called Rudy’s. It’s a French seafood and steak restaurant. It was a great date night! We had some wine and my mom tried parrotfish for the first time and I enjoyed a steak (filet mignonette). Though, mine tasted more like a rump roast. But either way, it was still good! We then were dropped back off at the hotel. Rudy’s had provided the transportation! We are now sitting on the patio just enjoying the sounds of the ocean. We are both very full and tired and will be going to bed soon! We are both looking forward to our relaxing day hanging at the bungalow tomorrow!

[dream-this-nightmare-over]

Kit Harington imagine part 2

If you like this, or if you dont, check out my other stories on wattpad (you might find something you like)!!!

Rest of my imagines/one shots you can find in my wattpad book Imagines that is being filled continuously by new stories.

Enjoy!

Friend from seven seas away and seven summers ago visited to return my pin and remind me why our love will never die

He came one day in january or was it december

I dont know. I dont count my mistakes anymore

He came with cold bite northern clutch

He came to wish me merry christmas

But we both knew he was carrying velvet box that became part of his every pocket

He still looks for me in crowds and next to him when lonliness hits, he upturned entire garden and smashed all mirrors in home that is more sanctuary than paradise, but still he hasnt found origin nor end of his anger carved in plaster of fustration peeling layers funny how once it finds soil you can never get to the bottom of it despite being the host. You feed your insanity because it keeps you from losing it all together, madness is not product; its perpetuer that gave name to reaction of defying to succumb to ilogic in matrix, bear the name of enemy trick to outcast the unwanted in system more easily. Am i being too harsh? Who would love me with mindset that sees fire under snow, enemies in parents, friends in taken, home in forest, liberation in thunder, imagination as only religion that can deliver, rhymes as confessions of unspoken sacred poem why you cant see vials are not only way to bleed the person and leave a heart dry cooled off skeletonial construction a churred hull nothing can grow from no one to call it a home. I am exiled from my own heart. ( i listened to others too much and wrote not enough lock picks to get me out of prison my mind fortified around who i am. who are we? Slimy grey liquer they pick apart under microscope or etheral reflection of stars? I have to be more than this materalisation of doomed for failure)

He had big fireplace. We used to sit there on thick plush carpet pondering over meaning of it all. Him drinking, me watching his throat move with every gulp, high on sadness. Mind you, i didnt know david yet, nor his metaphorical perfection eclipsed my every romance thought. Kit was everything i wasnt, yet my stream of conscious always met his; i watched him with adoration that comes when you are exposed to art for the first time. I went to museums before, but I was never allowed this close. Sometimes we would be joined by other fallen fellows. And we would drink for all the lovers who will never return affection for pain of loving them in silence. No one ever cared for my heart enough to show me love can be burden divided. Meeting them, showed me happy endings live on screen and in pages that dont spill in reality that is same losing sanity game for most people. Only reason there wasnt shortage of bandages, was because we were all liars, inheriteted strategies, hiding the wound smilling while bleeding, sooner die than let someoe see. But he saw me.

My best friend alex was dead for some time when my first friend came to our northern town. It was seventeenth day of christmas, harbour cafe bars were adorned in fairy lights, carols were mixing with generic mandatory christmas pop songs down the street, cinamon and clover drifting from patiseries on corners, ships and gullys christms trees wraped at bottom with blanket of frozen sea that will keep them stuck here in this fairytale wilderness till spring awakens with yawn that will run cracks along sleeping hardened earth and everybody will throw away their coats elsewhere in the world but not here, here cold lives with us, in cracks on pavement and drinks served with mittens.

He wonders if thats all thats left of me, if i took it little to literelly, to settle in place and make it home, lose yourself so they like you or go where they are like you.

I never told him about alex. He heard i moved on replaced our love with new friends, and i still dont know if i broke his heart when he told me to move on and i didnt fight for him to stay, he told me to be happy to find another crowd and i let him go like he didnt teach me meaning of patient love.

He was wrong. I didnt become cold. It claimed me before we parted ways. But my past is now under frozen slates of harbour and i would do everything so spring never comes; my past is burried in grave in forest that still sings hymes to my crimes; my past is more me than i am me today. I am ruthless wind he leaves windows open when blowing, because he likes the sound of things shattering, it muffles the wails of his heart that lies in pieces; i am words my father is horrified to hear and in his ignorance that he graces me with calls them bullshit, while i pour my heart out of every truth because lies have pulled the rope too tight around my throat around my mind around my heart i am running in circles so i write write write get it all out hoping one day words will get me out of my head and into sunlight that wont hurt; i am my enemy and i hate both of them.

He was in jacket and his curls were wild and untamed. We met in the middle of the street, greeting with usual teasing like no time has passed at all. Even then i knew time didnt steer him right into my path by pure coincadance. I was mad, you see. My mind tortured by reality it didnt recognize as authority over its wandering nature that seized every moment to escape in carefully created daydream retreat that had its foundations planted on drive home from party where boy with curls another kid that didnt believe anymore in happy endings, got so wasted that he never again remembered how he changed my life with just one conversation.

He had his demons. And i was getting familiar with knowledge they come in various shapes, and that no one escapes their acquantace; he tried to drown them. I never fully understood depth of misery that can carve a home in every surface underneath skin, settle there and dig further into essence of your being, with every hit more desperate to get to the heart where child hides, until alex died and i was left with his and mine demons and they were one and the same; where kit was my tragic counterpart whose sadness and anger matched mine if not in level of poisoning yet, in lonliness we exiled ourselves when we realised we are becoming poison ourselves; alex was romantic notion life can get better if you surround yourself with people who are in sync with your heart, who know not to leave you alone when you withdraw.

Kit knew when i needed silence; but alex knew i needed life too.

He said i left my pin at his place all those years ago and that he thought i should have it back. Or he just needed excuse to see me. He could've gone further north and see polar lights if he needed to feel me.

"i am not going up there again. Besides, you arent spirit yet."

Yet, i bet i haunt his dreams neverthless.

I turn my attention to golden pin i started turning over in my hand, inspecting siides like its not memento i used to keep on a bedside cupboard for years, just so I don't have to meet his teddy bear gaze. I cant afford to go back there. Cheap prop replica from some book series popular while i was still in school. More than a fandom triffle.

Relic of hope.

He carries shadow in his pockets, i have then too many to tell when one leaves me. Is love I stomped out under northern lights, somewhere out there or still in us?

He closed my fingers over it with his and held them there then pulled me in bearhug. He still smells like home.

We walked around town, christmas market and tivoli lights, shoulders brushing, pin heavy in pocket of my coat, Christmas carols and cinnamon in air, I don't remember he ever came to visit me back in day when I was just designated driver and he was the cool kid who befriended me.

II.

"Can i stay with you?" I whisper.

"Always" cookies are brittle i can hear him chewing on bite. Box between us is almost empty. I can see blades of grass underneath plastic bottom.

"I-" I have no where else to go.

"I know."

Ofc he does.

Past remembers its scars.

Your pain recognizes mine

"I left all my words with you"

"I came to remind you that words arent expendable goods."

Now he is talking funny. Like we arent living in the same world. "Words arent goods. No one wants to trade with them anymore."

"You call yourself ruthless. Be imposer, make them obey new rules."

"Its too late for revolutions"

"Its never too late for new ideas"

"I dont want to wait till I am one step from grave to make my name; i want to enjoy my fame. I want to enjoy life, is that too much human asks for on only planet it can survive?"

"Maybe there is reason why no other bio system wants us"

"Do you think they are so inhospitable because we lived on all those places already and ruined them like we are doing to earth, but cant remember for some reason?"

He turns all the way on his side to look at me. We are laying in patch of meadow left behind alex's old house now empty but for couple of bird nests under roof and broken windows, shards of remaining glass like jaws standing on guard clinging on frame warning signs little too late.

yesterday there were six teeth in downstair frame now there are four, three on porch where there were five two nights ago, none left in doors. I count every change knowing damn well nothing will change. But birds built a nest, badger was on windowsill couple of days ago, and branches started to enter thtough upstairs bedroom window that used to be his sister's.

Will his family ever call again? Will they ever know it ruined me to lose him? Will i ever grow bigger than my pain, or kit's tangable grief for my tragedies i make myself go through just to feel something, for who i used to be and who i have become, grief i feel is treathning to spill but he keeps it to himself for my sake, because there is box in his pocket that i cursed, coffin will rot, diamonds are forever, i should have known before i created his burden; will his grief be echo i will never outrun, only partner in crime, whisper mocking my shadow even in darkest places, forever would take to dismantle the pity behind the mask and they would still bring it up in eulogy to kill me one last time; Is grief only kind of tree that will ever surrand me in any forest i run to; i want to pin him to ground catch him off guard hit him until i beat that pity out of his warm brownies and melted choclated chip eyes that were never supposed to be found by prophectic lies my demons spread around, they were never supposed to locate that corner of my mind, my sadness was never supposed to grow bigger than his, he was the one who was supposed to save me when tide got too rough pull me out bring me back with his breath in my lungs, not show up from nowhere one ordinary winter afternoon after no call for years, ghost of christmas except this is the season i love the most, and he came to take away my fairy lights too early, he showed up like some king of north in black tight jeans and black jacket and black curls glistening on icy sun that puts jewels in his eyes, to tell me he is cutting the tie, all wrapped in his sad puppy smirk a charm i ripped away ftom my bracelet and now he is paying me back for thinking i can just kill part of myself without holding a funeral and writing an eulogy worth a dime or two or seven, no one will understsnd i want to tell him no one was there but he thrusts my pin in my hand and choice of words takes me back when he made love to me in one of alternative endings i created by sheer power of will to banish his pieces scatter our sin so he can never again haunt me in all his glory, dreams devoid of his warmth, imposed detachment, and did i save my sanity? I found new faces to finish me, argubly they took up where he leff off, for he loved me too much to ruin me when there was still enough hope i could become something more; all the names that took his place at table, gave me fairytales and adventures he never belived in, respite i needed, my indulgment was my ruination for i lost the grip on anything real, to run away from sorrowful conversations, to dance at parties and be crowned as kings and queens of town of my dreams, but he put himself back together to remind me everything needs to be immortalised in reality if i wish to stay hidden in my mind.

"Your mind is gold pot. Exploit the depths and wonders of your mine. "

"i am trying. Is that why you came? To guilt trip me?"

Of course he lays claim on my royalties. He created me, my madness, this frantic writing that never meets ending, all the ideas and pieces of conversations burried in piles of notes that mount to nothing because my mind is wounded animal running from society on too many places in same time, standing in front of his doors walking away letting myself in after he leaves i lay on carpet he changed nothing room is cold memories are charred coal in fireplace i just want his skin on mine as close as it gets i dont want to be myself make me forget i am real.

"I dont know where you are going with this" crow flew over us, it didn't even screech and I wondered what we look like to her; two bodies sprawled in grass, admiring sky, two skeletons with beating heart and tummies full of cookies and gummy bears, two humans: too big of a bite or not worth the bother?

"You got rusted"

He never misses the beat. "You havent used me in a while"

"There were others"

"You need to stop. This convo has run its course"

"I cant. i promised myself i will finish this tonight"

"Who am i if i dont write?"

He echoes my thoughts then settles with arm under his head staring back at stars above that dont care if we make it or die in sleepy towns working dead end jobs just to get money that will never be enough to pay for a new life somewhere far away where dreams lead the way.

Sky got painted over and stars vanished from outline.

"I am scared kit."

"We all are, kid"

"You wanted to shag me. I am not kid"

"I wanted to marry you too"

"They are all kids, those boys i imagine to help myself fall asleep. They never know me"

"Do you know yourself?"

"Does anyone?"

"Pondering over existential questions is surely not going to clear the picture"

I lost my best friend, kit! I want to scream in his stupid smug face. I want to know why! Not everyrhing is about you having superiror insight to backstage of all the revelations just so you can call quits on all your emotions you dont want to face and call them all bs because you are just as immuture as me and you wish happy endings exist but you prefer to live in pain because you are afraid of change and everyone is loser to you if they care because you kit, you are afraid to love and let yourself feel smth unless you know you can win!

Hello, i am your mirror. Glad we got here finally.

Car ride candies left on seat liquor in veins neon road you kissed me dont you remember we caught a taste of happy ending for passing second devoured by time, am I selfish for calling you out or you are for coming back around just when I thought I was getting better?

"I am scared there will come a day when you wont come right away"

"Past never forgets"

"But humans do"

"I am not real, y/n"

"I am talking about myself"

"Your dreams are entangled with thought of me; i have showed you how it can be, you cant forget what makes your soul alive"

I play with pin in my hand, caress the outlines, ridges and edges, my fingers remember the pattern the hope the comfort

But i dont feel the spark

World is as it is

Empty without my friend

"Here you can have it", i hold the golden thing in air between us. I see top of trees through tarnished circlet, i see myself flying away carried by the winds that tell me of my friend's last words, i see releasing those in my head, i see saving everyone left, i see peace clearer than ever.

"It kept me safe, now is your turn"

Save me i think the world is slipping from underneath me

Why does everything new feels like end of world, tell me i can bring myself with me wherever i go tell me i dont have to leave myself behind tell me its one thing that never changes tell me i can carry myself along until i become the most free version of myself tell me my life is not over yet tell me i am not dead just because things change tell me its just a start tell me i will get out eventually tell me you will be there on both sides.

He takes my head between his palms like he always did, and places a kiss on my forehead, and as i am falling into him for the last time, i find it funny how body remembers what heart had to kill to stop thinking about, shooting all the stars from the sky to put what it wants the most on the furthest shelf away from itself, my beautiful love will my heart when it hears yours finally know answer to why when the path is right, it gets twisted and complicated why then monsters wake up and forest gets dark?

He holds me and we stay that way while world is crying out its last but we know too much by now to help and prolong its death; let it go to sleep, let us be at peace, with new dawn maybe some better world will be born. (in which i will be more than dissapointment)

He knows i cant hurt him, he knew it will take me this long to write it all down, he knows he can come back anytime, he knows my mind is too far gone for anyone to find me....so he lets me go at last.

When the first drop of rain hits his lips, he says "amen (go in peace)."

[bella-goths-wife]

The volturi’s relationship with cullen reader

Aro

You met aro when he and your ‘father’ Carlisle lived with him and the rest of the volturi in Italy in the 17th century

Aro found you absolutely darling

By around 1702 when you and Carlisle had been with the volturi for two years you had learned to stop going against Carlisle wishes

Carlisle could be very cruel and aro found it fascinating

He found it interesting how Carlisle could disagree with their feeding methods but could be cruel enough to lock up his ‘child’ and starve you if you decided to talk back

He saw that day that when it came to you, Carlisle and aro could be two sides of the same coin

Eventually aro demanded to meet you properly without your father darkening the doorway the entire time

He found that once on your own, you liked to talk

He enjoyed the sciences and arts which helped the two of you connect

The two of you would talk for hours about art and science and he took it upon himself to educate you on some sciences that your father had refused to teach you in the fear that you might use it to escape

This earned you the title of “sweet dear” and aro would always find away to talk with you

Carlisle grew jealous, the two of you reminded him of before he turned you

The relationship you used to have

The growing closeness between the two of you was another reason that Carlisle decided that it was time to move away in 1720

You begged aro to stay with him and the others but aro couldn’t help you

He discussed with his other council members and they didn’t see it ending well for them

His parting words to you were

“We will always be here if you need us, my sweet child”

Jane

When you were first properly introduced to jane, you were incredibly intimidated

Aro had talked about his high ranking solider many times when the two of you would talk and you were incredibly impressed

Jane was intrigued when she heard of you, considering the two of you were turned at similar ages

(In the books jane and Alec were said to turn around 12 or 13 but in this au they turned around 16 or 17 so they are similar ages to reader and so they match the look that the movie portrayed)

Aro decided that it would be a good idea for the two of you to meet

When Jane walked into the room, she commanded respect with every look she gave

When Jane saw you she thought you were strange as you stared at her in awe, she did find it slightly flattering

As the two of you talked, Jane remained closed off and would only offer one word responses you your conversation starters

Jane quickly grew bored of your company and looked out of the window at a bird chirping in the trees

It was a beautiful bird, one that reminded her of the birds that would fly near her village

You noticed janes distraction and grew sad that you could not gain a friend before an idea entered you head

You used your power to manipulate the bird to chirp sweetly and to come closer

Jane had stared at you in confusion as your eyes squinted and stared at the bird until it appeared on the open window and chirped at jane

She had asked if you were going to keep it as a pet but you only responded with a sad chuckle and

“It would be to similar to my situation, a bird stuck in a pretty cage”

Jane didn’t ask what you meant but she could guess

From that day jane, in her own way, accepted you as a friend

Rather than affection and sweet words she would bring you blood from her victims and would listen to your stories

Even sometimes you would be given a gentle smile as you talked before she would quickly return to her stoic expression

You and her brother were the only one to ever get a soft moment from her

The day it was announced that Carlisle was taking you, she insisted to the council that you should stay but it couldn’t be done

Her parting words to her were

“I will see you again, dear friend”

Alec

You met Alec when you went with Carlisle to introduce Edward to the volturi

It was a tradition that would come when each new family members would come, they were to be introduced to aro and the volturi as a sign of respect

Jane and aro had greeted you so sweetly, well more aro than Jane but you did receive a nod of respect, it made Alec wonder what you could of done to gain so much appreciation

He was slightly jealous of you, he had a powerful gift and a taste for blood yet you had won aro over to be so kind

You, wide eyed, naive, gentle you

Alec decided it was time to introduce himself

Since edwards introduction was being celebrated, aro decided to throw a ball in his honour

It was more like a strategic show of power to the young vampire

Carlisle and Edward fussed over you nonsensically and would refuse to let you out of their sight

Alec had concocted a plan in his head and Asked for aros help to distract the two male vampires

When they were distracted, Alec asked you to dance and you accepted quickly in an attempt to cure your boredom

Alec had noticed that Carlisle had dressed you childishly for your age and you noticed that Alec seemed to want to dress older than he was

Alec held onto you threateningly tight as he interrogated you on your relationship with aro and Jane, you answered his questions honestly as you danced

You noticed that Alec was more teasing than Jane but somehow more calm than your sadistic friend who was watching you out of the corner of her eye somewhere in the grand room

As you danced with Alec he found you annoyingly likeable but you were truly interesting when Edward pulled you from Alec’s grip and harshly pulled you to Carlisle before you were sent to your room that aro had kept from you short stay

Alec had felt himself curious and walked in the courtyard in the dead of night and caught you at your open window (more like an arch like ancient Roman architecture windows)

You had tears running down your face and to Alec you looked like the picture of beauty with the moonlight shining on your tear stained face

Your emotional pain was delicious to Alec and he craved your presence

After what he witnessed he tried to closer to you but Edward sensed his romantic intention when he read his mind and would lead you away

Every time he saw you after that he would offer you a Dance and would crave in his undead heart to be that close with you for eternity

When he parted with you after edwards celebration his parting words to you were

“We have eternity my love”

Caius

Caius had met you centuries before he found an interest in you

Before he only saw you as Carlisle meek little pet who satiated his paternal desires and followed him around

He found you slightly pathetic as you clung to your family members, never knowing it was because they held you there

He found an interest when one of your ‘siblings’ were introduced once again as your clan grew bigger

He had been taking a stroll at night when he had seen Carlisle grip your jaw tightly as you fought to break free

Caius saw as Carlisle locked you up in your room at the volturi and as he walked away he listened at the door

He heard the sounds of things hitting the wall and wood smashing before something very interesting caught his attention

“I hate you” you had screamed so loudly that the door rattled

Hate? That word brought a familiar sense of warmth in his chest

And just like his anger had attracted aro to him, you anger and hatred had attracted him to you

He requested a private meeting with you the next day but he was firmly denied by you ‘mother’ and ‘father’

So he found you again locked in your room and entered by breaking the lock

He had found you smashing your chair against the wall and applauded you impressed

“What’s wrong, little dove?” He had asked with a smirk and your anger left you ranting to the strange friend of aros you had only seen for formal introductions or meetings

Your hatred and anger was fascinating to caius who declared to be your new mentor

Caius is an ambitious man who saw you as a future investment, when you were ready he was sure you would be a powerful fighter

He spent more time with you as you enjoyed your extremely brief stays and as he did the two of you adopted a father daughter dynamic

He saw you as someone who could be an prodigy if you were actually treated like the hundreds of years old being that you were

His parting words to you in that fateful trip were

“Use your anger to find us, little dove”

Marcus

Marcus had observed you for many decades

He never found an interest in you until the time came for the two of you to interact

He had seen how you behaved with with fellow volturi members and was curious

He was also curious if Carlisle’s bond with you

How could someone be so paternal to someone who hates them so

Marcus power is relationship identification and when he used it on Carlisle, he saw that the man loved you very much and adored you while you felt hatred for Carlisle and saw him as the one preventing your freedom

His interest reached his peak when you walked into the volturi library while Marcus himself was brooding by the chess board

You offered a kind smile which caught Marcus off guard slightly, how long had it been since someone’s smile was one of genuine kindness towards him

Out of curiosity he offered you a place at the chess table which you accepted as the two of you played chess silently until he beat you

The two of you played another game and this time you offered conversation which Marcus hesitantly accepted

Your chirpy laugh and your sweet smile reminded him of his late wife Didyme

He felt himself drawn to conversation with you and you graciously accepted

He grew slightly closer to you but certainly not as close as you were to the others

He had a silent fondness for you which was only made clear when he craved your presence and felt himself laughing at your jokes and stories, small smiles and laughter obviously

He decided to have some of his rouge vampire ally’s keep an eye on you and he would inform the rest of the volturi of your movements and actions

His parting words to you were

“You’ll be looked after, girl”

These are all the volturi members I could think of for now but let me know if I missed someone :)

This has been in my drafts for a while so I apologise if it’s trash, I know the characters are a bit ooc but I thought it was interesting

Hope you enjoyed

Love ya ❤️

[viatagrinner]

Gilbert von Obsidian. Chapter 2

MC is now Gilbert's friend.

And as of tomorrow morning, they will also eat together.

In a good mood, the prince goes to his room. The heroine, too, goes to her room, but suddenly she bumps into something. Not something, but someone. It is Chevalier.

She tries to speak to him, but he looks at her coldly. Then, without a word, he walks back out. Halfway there, he turns his head to show her to follow him.

Chevalier leads the heroine to his hideout, a room in the library. The girl likes an assortment of books: about art, poems, plays, novels, etc.

Chevalier knows that she went out on the town with Gilbert. He didn't ask what happened, he wanted to know what the Prince of Obsidian had asked for.

MC: He wanted to be friends.

Chevalier:

The head of the foreign policy faction went silent for a long time. Even for such an intelligent and far-sighted man, Gilbert's suggestion seemed strange.

MC told the whole story.

MC: Prince Chevalier... how can I stop "being friends" with him?

Chevalier: Why should you stop?

MC: ...I feel that the fate of the country depends on me, and I'm scared.

Chevalier: Don't be arrogant.

He assures her that he is competent enough to protect the country.

Especially since there are seven other princes.

Chevalier: It's silly to take that threat seriously.

MC: I'm sorry...

Chevalier: No need for verbal apologies.

He flicked her forehead.

(I've been bitten, poked... It's a terrible day.)

As punishment, Chevalier thought of a way to exploit the situation.

As Gilbert's new friend, MC would gather information about him.

Now MC is a spy.

Chevalier: Exclusive to me.

She thought being "friends" with Gilbert was a bad thing, but if it could be used.

Why has Obsidian, who has severed all diplomatic ties, now begun to act?

Chevalier smiles, but here he gets serious again.

Chevalier: By the way, an exclusive spy doesn't leak information to anyone but his master.

MC: ...Do you want to keep it a secret from the other princes?

Chevalier: The Princes, bureaucrats, servants, your butler, trust no one.

Chevalier: Several men from the Obsidian side have already infiltrated this castle.

If Gil somehow found out that the girl is "Belle," then there really is a spy among them.

Chevalier knows that Gilbert is good at domination and manipulation.

Chevalier: Today's ally may become tomorrow's enemy.

Chevalier: I can predict the next action of the blindfold. This person is likely to make some unpleasant demands in the future.

She may not ask Sariel's permission. Chevalier takes full responsibility for her words and actions.

Chevalier: As long as you are of use to me, I will protect you.

He gave her a badge of honor (?) with a white tiger.

She thanked him, but he was already at the door.

But suddenly the second prince stopped.

Chevalier: ....Once upon a time there was a man who preached that love was the essence of man.

Chevalier: Needless to say, love in this case is compassion for others? The theory is that there are no real villains in this world because they are influenced by their environment.

Chevalier wants her opinion.

(You mean that the essence of a villain is "love",right?)

The first thing that came to her mind was the image of Gilbert.

MC: I don't know. .... I think the answer lies in Prince Gilbert.

Chevalier didn't answer her anything.

And the heroine wonders if she will ever make sense of the question.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Morning.

Breakfast.

Gilbert: You like sweets, don't you? I asked you to make plenty.

He asks the girl, Keith, and Silvio to give him the leftovers.

There are four of them in the room, but the table is set for ten.

Gilbert: Hurry up and eat. Or do you want me to feed you?

She refuses. The food seems tasteless to her. He asks her what it tastes like.

MC: ....I'm nervous and can't taste it.

Gilbert: Ahaha, honest.

Gilbert: If anyone says anything about your manners, I'll shut them up, right?

Silvio asks Keith what he sees.

Keith realizes that he has a victim and a perpetrator in front of him and the girl is not here of her own volition.

Gilbert: What? You want to know about my relationship with Miss Bunny?

MC takes the lead, fearing Gilbert will reveal her true role.

MC: I am a friend.

Silvio is annoyed and asks her not to lie.

Gilbert: It's true, isn't it? And the proof is that I know everything about her.

Silvio: Like what?

Gilbert: There's a bakery near her house where an elderly couple works. She likes to buy sandwiches there.

Also, according to Gil, the heroine likes to sit on a hill overlooking the city, eat sandwiches and read. When she has time, she reads from morning to night and even, once, caught a bad cold. Many people in town were concerned.

Only people close to me knew about it.

(Moreover, I had a cold before I even met Rio, so it was at least three years ago.)

She doubts anyone would talk about trivia. It's not just about "Belle" anymore.

She's never met Gilbert, she's a simple townie and couldn't possibly attract the attention of a prince of a large empire.

Her fork fell to the floor.

MC wanted to pick the fork up off the floor, but Gil wouldn't let her. Only commoners do that.

She realizes her blunder and asks the servant to fetch cutlery.

Silvio and Keith sympathize with her.

Silvio: Just by looking at the woman, did you get this information from somewhere?

Prince of Obsidian confirms it.

Silvio doubts that Gilbert knows more such episodes. Gilbert replies that he can name at least a hundred episodes.

Keith: Mr. Gilbert... even if you were real friends, you're invading a woman's privacy too much.

Silvio: Do you know what to call a man like that?

Silvio: They call him a perverted stalker bastard.

Gilbert: Ahaha, right. Those words don't exist in Obsidian, so this is the first I've heard of them.

The Obsidian prince isn't offended, Miss doesn't get it.

MC: How did you know about me?

Gilbert: Secret.

After that, the prince went on eating as if nothing had happened.

MC: But that's not fair...

The girl talks about how the prince knows a lot about her, but she knows nothing about him.

Keith backed her up.

Gilbert: Friendship is born by getting to know each other, so you have a right to know me.

But it's not enough to just have a meal together.

Gilbert: That's why, unless we're together from morning to night, the amount of information I know about you isn't true.

He grabbed her hands with his icy fingers.

Gilbert: Well...? Will you let me help you with your job?

Silvio spit out the tea he was drinking, and Keith dropped the cutlery he was holding on the floor.

The girl is shocked.

Gilbert: Well, you help princes with their official duties for the sake of learning, don't you?

(Maybe he means "I'll help you choose a king.")

Gilbert: If I help you, we can always be together, right?

But Gilbert has his official duties.

Gilbert: Don't worry, I can give you as much time as I want.

Gilbert: Not a bad story, is it?

You take the offer or he makes you do it.

But now she's not just "Belle," she works for Chevalier.

She accepts.

Silvio: Huh!?

Keith: Miss MC?

Silvio calls the girl a fool.

(If I said no, it might complicate things.)

Especially since Chevalier is standing behind her back.

The girl pulls the insignia out of her skirt pocket and puts it on her blouse.

Gilbert is the first to react to the emblem, depicting a white tiger.

He laughs, realizing that Chevalier understood what he was up to.

Gilbert: That's why Rhodolite is worth crushing.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Gilbert's Masterlist

[gerdavonrinnlingen]

I'm still revisiting my old fics in order to celebrate reaching 1 Mio words on AO3 ^^

"For A Fistful of Dollars" is my 7th Gingerrose Fic. It was a gift for @desk-desk-desk ^^ It's my first and only Wild West!AU :D

Read it on AO3

Art by @shahs1221 - thanks again for the wonderful art ^^

Extract

As Hux rode into town to verify Solo’s claim, he decided to take a detour to check up on the herd out on the plains. As the new ranch manager, he needed to make sure that the local cowboys knew he was keeping a close eye on them.

As he rode past the dirty men gathering around a fire, he couldn’t help but feel disgusted at himself. Working for Snoke was without doubt a new low point for him. Well, he didn’t intend to stay a ranch hand forever, that much was sure. If his plan worked out, he would be gone by summer.

He smacked his lips and York started to trot faster as they made their way into town.

Once arrived at Silver Gulch, he had to ask an old woman hauling firewood on her bent back where the smithy was. She spit upon the ground and pointed wordlessly at a house at the far end of main street. Lovely people, thought Hux as he gave her a polite nod.

He clicked his tongue and York trotted towards the house. The snow on the road had turned deep brown, and an icy wind was blowing through the row of wooden houses. He got off the saddle and knocked at the half-open door. The heat of the place burned on his face even through the small opening.

Moments later Miss Tico appeared on the threshold. She was wiping her sooty hands on an old rag and frowned. “Ah, it’s you. Mister… ?”

“The name is Hux.”

“What can I do for you?” she asked with a friendly nod. He hadn’t expected her to be so civil.

Hux cleared his throat. “My horse needs new horseshoes, and then there is this,” he reached into his coat and produced the small parcel.

Miss Tico blushed, at least he thought so. It was hard to say in the orange light of the fire. She took the book and unwrapped the paper a little to inspect the water damage on the edges. “Thank you.”

She smoothed the paper wrapping and placed the book with great care on a table with a jug and a mug. To think that there was a woman in this godforsaken town who valued the written word enough to handle an old book with such care. Interesting.

“Alright, let’s have a look.” She stepped outside and stroked York, his black stallion. “You are a beautiful boy. Yes, you are,” she said in a low voice. She patted the horse again and put her hand on his foreleg. York lifted his leg immediately, letting her inspect the hoof.

She let go of it. “The nails are all still there, there is no need to replace the horseshoe. It isn’t even worn down.”

“York is very dear to me, Miss Tico. You can change them anyway.”

“Fine, that would be three cents per hoof. Cleaning included of course.”

Hm, cheaper than he was used to. “Very well.”

She led York to a small stable right next to the smithy. There was only a meagre amount of straw in the feeding trough. An old donkey was standing there, chewing slowly on some hay. Tico peeked into a barrel with horseshoes and checked their size.

Hux leaned against the doorway and tugged at his lined black leather gloves. “You obviously know your way around horses. I have seen blacksmiths that were barely able to keep York calm and with you he’s… tame.”

“Yeah, animals are easier to tame than people.”

He chuckled. “Quite.”

She made York lift his hoof again. She started to peel off the old horseshoe. She certainly looked fragile with her height, but she must be very strong under that baggy shirt. An avid reader and a skilled blacksmith...  he had never met a woman like her.

“It’s unusual for a woman to be a blacksmith,” he began. He immediately noticed that she pressed her lips together, but he continued: “Did your father teach you—”

She didn’t look up. “There is no need for you to stay here and make conversation with me, Mr. Hux. I’m certain that the saloon is a much more appropriate place to wait.”

“Somehow I doubt that the local half-wits are better company than you are,” he replied with a thin smile on his lips.

“Ah, come to see the ‘exotic woman,’ have you?” she huffed. The old horseshoe fell on the ground and she began to clean the hoof with her pick. “If you want to satisfy your curiosity, I suggest you ride into Montana City. I hear there is a whole section of the town full of people of my ilk.”

What a feisty, sharp-tongued woman. He had to admit his curiosity was even more piqued. “You mean to tell me there are more female blacksmiths in Montana City than here?”

That made her look up. Her dark-brown eyes bore into his. “What? No, of course not—”

“I was referring to the book. In all my time in the West, last night must have been the first time I’ve seen somebody read a book in a saloon.”

She averted her gaze and continued to work, putting the horseshoe on the hoof. She took a nail and started to hammer it in. “Don’t let it fool you. I’m a terrible reader.”

He watched her skillfully doing her job. Solo had been right. It was obvious that Miss Tico knew exactly what she was doing. And the way she had handled York was impressive. She was interesting. So much more interesting than the women he had met back in London or in any other town for that matter.

He looked around and noticed a metallic contraption in the back of the stable. He stepped closer and ran his gloved hand over the dark iron wheel. It looked like a place to mount a rifle. He squinted. In the back were more metallic items. “Are you a gunsmith too?” he asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

She was scratching the dirt from one of the hoofs. “My mentor was, but with all the new weapons factories in Montana City, people don’t need a gunsmith anymore.”

She was right of course. He himself had a Smith & Wesson that hardly needed any adjustments when cared for properly. He cleared his throat. “But you could fix a gun, correct?”

Tico let go of York’s leg and straightened her back. “Sure. I actually like fixing guns. I’m a bit out of practice, but it’s not that hard. The workings of a gun are pretty simple, after all.”

Simple! Nothing about ballistics was simple! Was she joking? No, she looked serious. He frowned. “Your mentor, who was he?”

She sighed and patted York. “That will be 12 cents, Mr. Hux.”

Hux reached into his vest and produced the desired amount of coins. “I apologize for my curiosity, Miss Tico. I didn’t mean to offend.”

She glanced at him before quickly averting her gaze. “I’m not offended.”

Miss Tico suddenly seemed shy, and Hux didn't quite understand why. Until now, she had been quite sharp-tongued.

He bid her farewell and left.

[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part I

Ahh I can’t believe it’s finally done! After a year of working on this beast, it’s finally ready for me to share. This is something I started way back last summer, and I decided to finish it as my project for this year’s @geraskierbigbang. It will be ten parts in total, and I will post one part per day until it is complete! There are several art pieces that were created by the wonderful @herostag​ and Miranda.draws for this story, which I will link when the appropriate section is posted. For a summary and further links, please see the masterpost.

Next | Ao3 | Masterpost

“Alright,” Geralt said. “Don’t laugh at me.”

Yennefer looked up at him with bright eyes, curious and already mirthful. She was sitting across from him in his quarters, reading through a tome she’d found in Kaer Morhen’s disheveled library. Geralt had just come from a bath after hours spent training Ciri in the yard, and the room was filled with the warm evening light, supplemented by the fire crackling in the hearth. Yennefer had insisted on carting dozens of tapestries and drapes to hang around the drafty keep, and the room was nearly stuffy with their bulk keeping the heat in.

Yennefer gave him an amused smirk. “I will make no such promises before I even know what you’re going to say.” The gentle teasing brought a fond smile to Geralt’s face. After the events of the mountain all those years ago, things had been understandably tense. Yennefer had been reluctant to join them when she had finally met up with Geralt after Sodden, but had eventually agreed to seek refuge in the witchers’ keep and teach Ciri to control her magic. Once she’d met the girl it had all been a wash; it was clear as soon as their eyes met across the room that Yennefer was as much a part of Ciri’s destiny as Geralt was.

Geralt had expected that to either mend the rift between them enough for things to go back to the way things were, or make things even more awkward. Instead, they found themselves in a sort of in-between. Over the years his affection for Yennefer had only grown, but he found himself looking to her more and more as a friend—maybe his best friend. After Jaskier, of course.

Speaking of. “I was thinking about Jaskier.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes obviously. “As you are so frequently wont to do. The thaw will come soon enough, dear, and you can run off in search of your bard.”

Geralt felt his ears grow warm. Witchers couldn’t blush, not truly, but he still felt the tingle of it as he fidgeted with embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, absently tracing a finger against the grain of the wooden table. There were two goblets of wine sitting between them, but so far neither of them had begun to drink. “Do you know how many winters it’s been since I found Ciri?”

If she was confused by the odd turn in subject matter, Yennefer didn’t show it. Instead she looked thoughtful. “Two, perhaps three? You know I don’t follow the seasons with diligence.”

“Neither do I,” Geralt agreed. “I was thinking the same though, two or three years since the fall of Cintra. Which means Jaskier is…” He paused, trying to do the math. “He was a few years past forty, during the dragon hunt, I think. He must be closer to fifty now than not.”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow at him. “I recall mentioning something about his crows feet. What of it? Humans age. Are you only just discovering this?”

Geralt forced himself not to grumble. In a way, he was only discovering it. He’d known humans across the years, of course, and knew that many that he’d once been acquainted with were no longer alive or were in their twilight years. For decades Geralt had wandered through the world, changing no more than a ghost would, touching the lives of regular mortals for a brief instance, maybe a few times if they were particularly unlucky. No one had stayed by his side, dedicated themselves to a relationship with him, the way that the bard had. The amount of devotion that Jaskier showed to him had made Geralt antsy, in earlier years, and then confused and angry by turn. He had hated the idea of someone needing him, had hated needing someone in return. The way his chest felt heavy when he and Jaskier parted ways had left him furious with himself and the bard.

And then Ciri came into his life, and everything had changed so quickly.

With Ciri, it didn’t matter whether Geralt felt like he should care for her, or if he wanted to. He needed to. Without him, the girl would die, or be kidnapped by Nilfgaard for who knows what purpose. He had to feed her, and clothe her, and teach her, and he had to love her for her to thrive.

She made it very easy. It was only afterwards that he realized how much of an idiot he’d been to Jaskier, and the thought of how he’d treated the bard over the years had plagued him. It had been months before he could find him to apologize, but Jaskier forgave him almost immediately—which Geralt found both relieving and infuriating at the same time. This was the first winter they’d spent apart since. Geralt left the keep more rarely now, heading out on the Path only when the months grew truly warm and returning at the first hint of falling leaves. Ciri was safe on her own, he knew, but he missed her when he was away. And he could admit now that one of the forces driving him back into the world over the last few years had been the itching desire to find Jaskier again and settle the yearning in his chest for another year. He was less inclined to venture forth when his bard, his daughter, Yennefer and his brothers were all in one place.

This winter Jaskier had begged off, saying that he had “work in the south,” which could mean anything from spending a decadent winter in the court of some noble or sludging through the front lines as a Redanian spy. Geralt had learned not to pry too deeply into Jaskier’s business when he wasn’t around. It was often either too explicit for him to stomach or too confidential for Jaskier to share freely.

It worried him, being away from the bard for so long. He could get hurt, or captured by Nilfgaard, or worse. But what really terrified Geralt was the idea that he would find Jaskier in a tavern along the Path and realize that the bard had grown old, to find silver in his hair and wrinkles beside his eyes. “He’s getting too old,” Geralt said to Yennefer, who looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“You must have known when you started travelling with him that he would eventually leave you,” Yennefer said, not unkindly. “Humans are so short lived.”

“I didn’t exactly get a choice about becoming his muse,” Geralt said with a huff. Despite his improved relationship with Jaskier over the past few years, he still found it difficult to admit that he had always been more than willing to let the bard tag along. If he’d wanted to travel alone, he would have. But he never had. “I just didn’t realize…”

“It always comes sooner than you think it will,” Yennefer sighed. She set her book aside and picked up her goblet of wine, turning to look out the large window their table sat in front of. It faced west out of the keep wall, towards the mountains and the forest beyond. The sun had set below the craggy peaks, throwing the snow covered valley below into darkness. Geralt could just make out the ruins of the old tower, its stones dark against the white landscape. “You can’t cure his mortality, Geralt.”

“We did.”

The look that Yennefer gave him was sharp, almost angry. The firelight in the room turned her violet eyes darker, like mulberry wine. “At great cost,” she snapped. “I can’t imagine you would put him through the Trials.”

A stab of panic shot through his gut at the thought. “No. Of course not. He wouldn’t survive it anyways. Only children stand a chance at all.”

Yennefer nodded, apparently satisfied that Geralt hadn’t completely lost his mind. “The boy hasn’t got an ounce of Chaos in him, in spite of his rather chaotic nature, so I highly doubt they’ll accept him as a late trainee at Ban Ard.”

“There must be other ways,” Geralt said, feeling petulant. “Less conventional.”

“I cannot believe we are actually discussing this,” Yennefer said, rising to her feet. She picked up her book from the table as well as her glass. “There is no way to achieve immortality, especially not without sacrifice. You know that, Geralt. Drop this foolish line of thought.”

Geralt rose after her, reaching out to catch her retreating wrist. A grasp loose enough that she could break it, if she wanted, but Yennefer paused. “Please, Yen. Just… look into it for me? I can’t—the thought of—” He cut himself off, dropping his hand away from her arm. The look she gave him was more pitying than he would have liked.

“I’ll do some research, but nothing more. Don’t get your hopes up, Geralt. There’s a reason there are so few of us,” she said. Her face softened slightly, as much as it ever did. Despite Ciri, Yennefer was still made of more glass and fire than anything else. “I know you love him, even if you can’t admit it to yourself. I promise, I will do my best.”

Geralt nodded wordlessly as she left and wondered if Jaskier's eyes would be as bright next time he saw him.

*

For weeks Yennefer said nothing about his request, and Geralt refocused on spending time with Ciri and preparing to depart for the spring. Lambert and Eskel had already left a month before, as soon as the road down the mountain began to thaw, but Geralt had hung back. The roof needed repairs, a difficult job to do in the midst of winter, and it was a hard task to leave for Vesemir alone. It was always like this, now—him looking for odd jobs to keep him at Kaer Morhen, with Ciri, making excuses until Jaskier’s jitteriness or Vesemir’s raised eyebrows forced them on the road again. Some of that was mitigated this season by the silence he heard when he found himself listening for the sounds of lute strings strumming gently in the background, and Geralt’s increasing anxiety about Jaskier’s wellbeing. Even so, it was hard to leave Ciri behind.

The girl was progressing rapidly as she entered her teen years, the chubbiness of her youth morphing into lean if awkward muscle as she continued to work on her swordsmanship. When Geralt and his brothers weren’t pushing her through drills, she was studying monsters and alchemy with Vesemir, or practicing her magic with Yen. She never seemed to tire, eagerly absorbing any lessons passed on to her and desperate to prove her worth. The only person she seemed to let her guard down around was Geralt, who found himself often goading her into mock wrestling matches (which he refused to throw on principle) and humoring her when she became restless and wanted to explore beyond the keep. Kaer Morhen was dangerous in the winter, but as spring approached and the deep snows on the surrounding mountains began to thaw, the duo spent more and more time trekking through old ruins and sleeping beneath the stars.

He could put off his journey south no longer.

“I’m going to be fine, Geralt,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. He wondered if he’d been this petulant as a teenager. Certainly Lambert had. “I can take care of myself, and Yen will be with me.”

Geralt tapped her wooden training sword with his own, indicating that she should prepare to go again. When he was a boy he’d trained against the other foundlings, stumbling around like pups through drills and sparring matches. Ciri trained against full witchers, and only Eskel ever faked a misstep here or there to allow her to get in a good hit. When she won a fight for the first time, it would be on her own merit.

The girl raised her sword into a decent fighting stance, and Geralt moved to correct her footwork. Her sword work was exceptional above the belt, but she consistently forgot her stances, throwing herself off balance. They’d begun putting her on the pendulums to force her to focus, dancing between posts to attack the dummies. Geralt had spent many a night rubbing salve into her bruised shoulders, gained from taking fall after fall from the low poles. No one forced her, but if there was one thing Ciri hated, it was admitting to weakness in herself. “Sword up,” Geralt said, and launched into his attack.

He stayed on the offense, forcing her to practice the defensive drills they’d started going over recently. “I know you’ll be fine,” he said, continuing their conversation. His breathing was relaxed, almost meditative through the slow exchange of blows. “Just seems cruel to leave you with only the old man and Yennefer for company.”

Ciri giggled despite herself, and Geralt found himself grinning back before he smacked her lightly in the ribs with the training sword. She swore—Lambert, Geralt thought with chagrin—and danced back a few paces. “Gotta focus,” he said, still smirking at her.

She poked her tongue out at him childishly and reposted off of one of his blocked attacks. He easily swayed out of the way, but the movement was fluid and smooth, which meant someday it would be fast, faster than he could dodge. He gave an encouraging nod.

They continued to spar for another half an hour or so before breaking, heading to the well to fill their water pouches. Geralt sat on the short ring of stones and Ciri slumped on the ground beside him, leaning against his leg. The simple trust and familiarity she exhibited around him still took him by surprise, sometimes. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said, rubbing a hand over the top of her head. Her hair was almost as white as his.

She sighed, wiping dripping water from her chin as she tossed her water pouch down. “I figured,” she said. “Say hello to Jaskier for me, when you find him? I missed his songs this time.”

Geralt’s caress turned into a playful ruffle. “I will. Any requests for books?”

“Ones about Elves,” she said immediately, “and Skelligan alchemy. It’s different from ours, did you know? The Druids—”

Geralt chuckled. “I know. You’ve said half a dozen times. No fairytales this time?”

The girl hummed, reminding him for a brief and touching moment of himself. “Just bring Jaskier back. He tells about your adventures so much better than you do.”

“He’s certainly made a career out of it,” Geralt grumbled, feigning annoyance. “I’ll do my best. You know how he is.”

“You missed him too,” she said, hitting his knee with one closed fist. “I know you did. You get all…Well, more grumbly and mopey than usual, when he’s not around.” She wrinkled her nose up at him in exaggerated disgust. “It’s gross. But I do want you to be happy.”

Geralt knocked back against her gently with his knee, swallowing around the feelings that rose in his throat. “You just think I’m a boring old man who won’t help you put toads in Eskel’s bed. But you never even ask. I’m the expert, not Jaskier.”

Ciri laughed, bright and crisp in the morning air, and Geralt felt warm despite the fading winter chill. Tomorrow he would leave, and he would find Jaskier, and next winter he would tell Jaskier that he had to stay at Kaer Morhen. For Ciri, if nothing else. And if it was more for Geralt’s sake than anything, well, no one had to know.

*

Yennefer found him before he left, saddling Roach in the stables.

“Go to Triss,” she said by way of a greeting. Geralt knew what she meant by the gravity in her tone and the tension sitting in the corners of her mouth. “Ask after Ida. I don’t know where she is or if she’ll speak with you, but a Sage is the only one that might be able to give you anything.”

Geralt reached out to grasp her hand firmly in his own. “Thank you, Yen,” he said honestly.

The sorceress sniffed. “Well, you owe me one, I suppose. I hope you find what you're looking for. But be careful.”

“I won’t do anything that might put him in harm’s way,” he promised. “I swear it.”

“Good.” She gave him a slight smile before leaning in to brush a kiss over his rough cheek. The simple touch warmed him from inside out. “Say hello to the bard for me. Tell him I heard about that disastrous competition in Vizima. Ought to have him stewing for a good long while.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I’ll give him your love as always.”

“Goodbye, Geralt,” she said, patting his arm lightly. “Be safe. You know how to reach me, if you have need.”

“I do,” he said. “I will. Take care of Ciri.”

“It’s more the other way around, I���m afraid,” she said with a soft smile, and Geralt understood exactly what she meant. Ciri had saved them both, in more ways than one. Every time he left her was more painful than the last. Someday, he knew, they might travel the Path together, a witcher, a sorceress and their daughter. Maybe even a bard, if he was extremely lucky.

Geralt hoped he would be.

[anyoneseenadam]

Hiii. if you're still taking requests can you do a azriel one? (Can't get enough of him🤭🥰) can you witte one where azriel gets really badly hurt on a mission and barely makes it back and the reader freaking out and being really worried.?

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: angst, graphic descriptions of blood and violence, sad shiz but happy ending

a/n: this isn’t as angsty as I planned but it’s a lil, pls comment if you like it and tell me ur thoughts <33

——————————————————————————-

Azriel had promised you the mission would be quick. In and out were his exact words.

You should’ve known better than to trust him when he spoke so casually about breaking into a palace in the human courts, you should’ve known that something would go horribly, inconceivably wrong. But when he smiled at you and held you against him, swaying from side to side you were too lost in his easy lies to care.

You had started going on more missions with him recently. While you weren’t a spy, you had an incredible knack for lying. Cassian joked that you were just a brat but even he couldn’t deny that you were talented when it came to batting your eyes and pressing a hand gently enough on a soldier’s arm that they would bend to your every will.

You and Azriel had also discovered that the most effective torture method was to trick whoever you had taken into a false sense of security, you would use a gentle tone and motherlike care to make them feel safe. And then they were always willing to speak, believing that once Azriel stopped his ministrations they could fall into the safety of your arms.

It was a good tactic and even Azriel was impressed when you first tried it. But that never quelled his protectiveness, the way an arm would find its way secured around your waist as soon as you had secured the information you needed, or the way he kissed you fiercely in his shadows when he was tired of watching men flirt with you.

The truth was you and Azriel were so completely in love, no amount of flirting could ever take you from the gentle but possessive grip of your mate. In some ways that’s what kept you going, knowing that at the end of the day you didn’t have to plaster on a fake smile and sweet voice.

At the end of the day, in the warmth and comfort of your share home you were yourself. You could wear the same jumper for weeks straight and laugh at crude jokes. You could do your makeup at 3am and then turn to your half-asleep mate with a pout, whining until he caved and let you do his makeup too.

But in the end, your complete devotion would come back to bite you in the ass.

It was your fault, or so you believed. If you had just kept your eyes on the general with bad breath and a crooked nose you wouldn’t be in this mess. But when he got to close your eyes flickered to were your mate stood, concealed in shadows, and through all the generals personal hygiene faults, he had been trained to notice subtle looks that gave you away.

He had grabbed you so tightly that you couldn’t help but yelp, drawing Azriel’s attention to you. And while you had disabled the general quickly you now had hoards of guards chasing you out of an area that was guarded against winnowing.

Azriel hadn’t wasted a second. You were his top priority and so he had abandoned the plan and grabbed you as quickly as he could, gathering you into his arms as he flew to the exit. You had spluttered apologies to him as he flew, your eyes trained on the guards chasing you, the guards who were now drawing bows.

Azriel was quick but the arrows were quicker. You threw your hands out, trying to bat off as many of them as you could with the limited power you held. But as concentrated as you were on the ones directed to his wings, you didn’t see the one aiming for his lower torso until you felt it graze you from where it left his body.

He grunted as you swore, finally out of the barriers as he winnowed to as close to home as he could. But while injured that wasn’t easy and you found yourselves standing in a wooded area, Azriel dropping you down much more roughly than usual, swearing as he leaned against a tree.

“Okay, okay I can fix this, you’re going to be fine.” You spoke, mainly to yourself as the panic inside you grew. You scanned the area, spotting a cave not too far off, not wanting to leave Azriel in the open when you had no idea what could be in these woods.

“C’mon baby, let’s go this way.” You slung an arm around him, just above the wound and began making your slow trek to the small cave. As soon as you had him sat down, you knelt in front of him, tears in your eyes as you cut open his top, so you had access to the wound beneath.

“Why are you crying sweetheart?” you heard him ask and you rolled your eyes, wiping away the stray tears.

“Why do you think dumbass,” you said, forcing a smile when he huffed a laugh.

“You can’t be mean to me right now,” he complained as you set about cutting off both ends of the arrow so you could remove it safely, wincing when he hissed, gritting his teeth.

You finally had both ends cut off and went to pull it out, removing your shawl and preparing to press it against the wound that was spouting far too much blood. You looked up at him with your hands pressed shakily against his wound and saw his skin was pale and sweaty, his eyes drooping as they tried to close. He fell forward slightly but you held him upright with your shoulder, panic rushing through you, white hot.

“Azriel c’mon no, none of that. You’ve got to stay awake baby, you’re too heavy for me.” You begged; your hands pressed tightly against his wound as you let the tears fall freely. You eventually had to pull away, moving him so he was leaning against the cave wall, taking extra precaution to ensure his head didn’t get hurt.

His eyes cracked open when he felt your blood-soaked palm press gently against his face, glassy and barely present.

“Hey, hey I need you to stay with me, okay?” you tried to smile, wanting to offer him any semblance of comfort.

“Always baby,” he whispered, and you smiled, pulling your hands away slightly and smiling when you saw the wound healing externally already.

“What are you getting me for solstice?” you asked, wanting to keep him awake and speaking.

“Not telling.” He muttered and you laughed.

“You have to, we have to talk about something.” You joked, pulling a hand away just long enough to wipe your eyes as you focused on his face.

“I had a few ideas; nothing seems good enough.” He muttered and you laughed.

“Tell me.”

“Well first I thought a necklace, books, maybe art supplies or something but that’s all boring,” he whispered, and you smiled, nodding.

“If it’s from you it won’t be boring,” you smiled, hands still pressed tightly against his wound.

“Well I also thought I could get you your own truthteller, maybe one with a pink handle.” He joked.

“Well you know full well I would love that, maybe baby pink with little white hearts on it,” he smiled at you, his head lulling slightly forward. You reached up to him again holding his head gently in your hands, before you lay him down, covering him in the rest of your shawl.

“You plan that then, I’m going to go get wood and we’ll start a fire okay, keep you warm.” You stroked his face gently, pressing a kiss onto his forehead.

“Be safe,” he grabbed your hand as you stood to leave,

“You first.”

--

Your luck apparently ran out as soon as you looked at Azriel, given as soon as you walked out the cave the heavens opened, and you were soaked to the skin in the seconds. You grabbed as much wood as you could straight away, throwing it into the dry cave.

You then ventured further out, finding a rabbit, and killing and cleaning it out as quickly as you could, practically running back to the cave. You knelt down, starting a small fire, and removing your now dirty and completely soaked dress, ringing out your hair.

You then moved back to Azriel, brining him closer to the fire as you cooked speared the rabbit over it, cooking all the meat you could salvage of its small body.

“You’re so cold,” he muttered, pressing his nose into your bare skin as you shivered, moving even closer to the fire.

“Ah you know what they say, cold hands, cold heart.”

“I don’t think that’s the-“

“Shh,” you muttered, curling into him as you pressed together trying to steal some warmth from each other.

“If I get ill I’m going to kill you.” You whispered into his neck, and he chuckled, clenching his teeth when he moved to soon and your head shot up to him.

“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?” he shook his head, tightening his arms around you.

“No you’re alright,” he whispered. You lay there for a while longer, Azriel’s body limp, all his energy going into healing the deep wound in his side. Yours on the other hand was tense, ears perking up at any sound, half expecting a pack of rabid wolves to come eat you the second you allowed yourself to relax. When the rabbit was finished, you picked it apart, feeding it to Azriel gently, determined to get his energy back.

He was still so pale and no matter how hard you tried, nothing could quell the nausea in your stomach. Every time you looked at him when he closed his eyes your heart dropped, your anxiety telling you that this might just be the last time you ever see him.

You didn’t sleep all night, instead staying pressed against him, shivering in your undergarments as your dress dried by the fire. You regularly checked his pulse, temperature, breathing and whatever else you could, too afraid to take your eyes off of him for even a second.

By the time the sun finally rose, Azriel’s complexion had evened out and the wound in his side was puckering into a pink scar. You were beyond relieved, fussing over him when he woke up like the mother you often pretended to be.

You pulled your dress back on and stumbled to a near-by river to collect him some water, picking a species of berries you recognised along the way, and actively ignoring the cough you had developed over night.

You got back to the cave and almost cried in relief when you saw him sitting up, smothering the burning embers that used to be your fire. He looked over to you as you padded in and swore, standing to come to you.

“You look like shit what happened?” he asked, worry coating his features.

“Hey! I spent all night looking after you asshole,” you shoved him gently but he held tight, holding your chin in his slender fingers as he forced you to look at him.

“Shit it was raining last night,”

“Yeah?” you asked as he shook his head.

“That’s why you were so cold, c’mon let’s get you home you’re ill.” He muttered as you wildly protested.

“I’m fine, you need to rest,” you pointed at him, but he brushed you off, gathering you in his arms to winnow home.

“We can rest together, at home, in bed.” He stated, not leaving any room for argument so you relaxed in his arms, your head pressed against his shoulder.

“Okay,” you conceded, your voice small as he smiled down at you.

“Thank you for looking after me darling,” his voice was filled with sincerity, and you snuggled closer into him.

“Anytime.” You whispered as he winnowed you away, only vaguely aware of the feeling of him placing you down on your bed and curling around your back, arms tight and secure.

[stiltonbasket]

Nielan fathers day prompt! Sorry if its late, but how about finding out they're going to be parents on Fathers Day? (mpreg, adoption, surrogacy, your choice).

anon: the first fathers' day after jingyi is born, modern lxc and nmj both set up a present for each other "from Jingyi." It's very cute. Baby Jingyi magnanimously chews on his foot and accepts giving two presents and meals.

this is for the art thief au, so lxc is trans here!

(ao3 link)

----

What should I give Xichen for Father’s day?

Nie Mingjue has been puzzling over gift ideas for the past two weeks, with no luck whatsoever. Jingyi is still too small to make them gifts, so he and Xichen use the occasion to exchange presents with each other and label them with their little boy’s name; Xichen probably picked out his gifts already, since he knows Nie Mingjue’s tastes like the back of his hand, but Mingjue keeps flipping through mail-order catalogues and crossing off their entire inventory as he goes.

“I have present,” Jingyi insists, as Nie Mingjue carries him down yet another aisle of their local department store. “A-Die, look!”

Mingjue looks. A-Yi is holding a six-pack of orange bath sponges, since Xichen mentioned that they needed some more earlier that morning.

“That’s not a Father’s Day gift, A-Bao,” Mingjue chides, kissing Jingyi’s forehead. “Last year, I gave your Ba a brooch with his initials on it, remember? It has to be pretty.”

Jingyi wrinkles his tiny nose. “Starfish?”

“Mm, the starfish brooch.” Lan Xichen has an impressive collection of jewelry, with most of it coming from gifts Nie Mingjue gave him over the course of their fifteen years together; and nearly all of the pieces are sea-themed to go with his husband’s wardrobe and his clear, moon-white skin.

Perhaps he could buy pearls, this time?

“A-Yi,” he says slowly, “what do you think about going to the discount shop across town?”

A-Yi is happy enough to go wherever his father goes, so Nie Mingjue drives to the discount store--full of discarded, overstocked, and secondhand merchandise from all over the city--and digs through the bins of jewelry until he finds an antique bracelet, strung with pearls carved into the shapes of starfish and clam shells. Jingyi nearly loses his little mind at the sight of it, and he squeals at the top of his lungs while Mingjue pays for the bracelet and bundles him back to the car.

“I know them,” he declares, when Mingjue gives him the bracelet to play with on the way home. “Diedie, it’s a clam!”

Mingjue glances up at his son’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “Can you count how many clams there are?”

Jingyi flings himself headlong into the task, counting twelve starfish and eleven clams, and then he peruses the Learning Reader books Xichen keeps in the back seat until Mingjue carries him into the house.

His husband runs to meet them at the door, and it is this, not the driveway or their well-worn doorstep, that means Nie Mingjue has finally come home.

______

To Nie Mingjue, stepping into his woodworking studio feels like stepping into another world.

It isn't that the studio looks very different from the rest of the house--in fact, Nie Mingjue had a tiny nursery built into the north corner, since he set the studio up with A-Yi’s needs in mind--but Mingjue feels different here, more sure of himself, and aware of his own thoughts and hopes as he scarcely is anywhere else. He had only to enter, and he was changed: his hands steadier, his heartbeat slower, and his mind somewhere distant and immediate all at once. It is here that he pays homage to his heart, his muse, and the dearest friend he has ever had, or ever will. It is here that he pours pieces of his love for his husband into everything he touches, and everything he makes, and emerges with pieces of polished art like testaments to the husband he vowed his life to. 

“That isn’t a metaphor,” Nie Mingjue said once, when Huaisang asked what he meant. Mingjue has carved everything from furniture to lamps into shapes reminiscent of his husband’s lips, perfected the stems of wooden sunflowers to match the sweet arch of Lan Xichen’s neck, and burnished every last one of his creations until they shone like sunlight falling on the apples of his husband’s cheeks. He etches A-Huan’s expressions into the faces of statues intended for the foyers of upscale hotels, and into a thousand quarter and sixth-scale figures commissioned by model collectors, since he rarely has any excuse to sculpt his husband directly. But today he does, so he sits down at his bench and gets to work with a block of oak and his favorite gouge and chisel.

He will love this, Nie Mingjue thinks, as two bowed heads and a pair of smiles take shape under his hands. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever made.

He glances over his shoulder at Jingyi, fast asleep in the glass-walled nursery with his feet up in the air, and turns back to the sculpture with his heart quivering in his chest.

______

The sculpture takes about a fortnight to complete, almost exactly the span of time between the day Nie Mingjue begins working on it and the holiday it was intended for. Nie Mingjue wakes up early on Father’s day, leaving Xichen asleep behind him, and bundles A-Yi out of bed and down into the studio. They wrap the sculpture up together in Jingyi’s favorite gift wrap, and then Nie Mingjue carries him to the kitchen just in time to catch his husband as he comes stumbling down the stairs.

“Good morning, love” Lan Xichen sighs, burrowing into Nie Mingjue’s arms. “What should we have for breakfast?”

“Eggs?”

For some reason, Lan Xichen shakes his head.

“Noodles, then?”

This suggestion is met by a drowsy nod, so Mingjue goes to the fridge to dig out  a few ingredients while Lan Xichen hops onto one of the bar stools with Jingyi in his lap. He chops the scallions and garlic for plain noodle soup around their son’s little body, leaving Mingjue to boil noodles in one pot and stock with soy sauce and sugar in another until three blue bowls of yang chun mian are steaming on the counter.

“Smells yummy,” Jingyi yawns, while Xichen spoons fresh green onions into his soup bowl. “Baba, feed A-Yi?”

“He’s forgotten about the presents,” Lan Xichen mouths, as Nie Mingjue tries not to snicker. They eat quickly, slurping down the noodle soup with cups of soy milk on the side, and then Jingyi scrambles to the other side of the room before running back with Mingjue’s wrapped box in his arms.

“Father’s Day gift!” he squeaks, wriggling like a happy worm as Xichen laughs and tries to remove the gift wrap without tearing it; because Jingyi never lets either of them cover gifts with anything but Pingu penguin-printed paper, and he cries if anyone rips it up in front of him.

Mingjue used the weakest tape he could find, so that Xichen could extract the box with the paper left mostly whole. He hands the paper to Jingyi, watching as his husband’s slender fingers close around the base of the sculpture, and then--

“Oh!” Lan Xichen gasps, pulling it all the way out into the light. “A-Jue, I--”

The sculpture depicts him and Jingyi at the beach near their house--in fact, at the same beach where Mingjue and Xichen first met. Mingjue was sitting on a sandy rock, catching his breath after running around behind a hyperactive Nie Huaisang all day, and then he looked out over the foggy water and saw what looked like a water spirit drifting out of the darkness in a rowboat.

He sculpted Xichen seated on that very rock, with his long hair tangling in an invisible gale, and a little heap of shells (the pearls from the old bracelet he found at the discount store) piled up in his lap. Jingyi is standing on the ground at his feet with a wave of seafoam brushing his ankles; and in his hands is a small pearly starfish, offered up to his baba as Lan Huan leans forward to cup A-Yi’s cheek in his palm. Both father and son are smiling, with heart-breaking happiness in A-Huan’s eyes, and sheer pleasure at finding the starfish in Jingyi’s.

Nie Mingjue looks up at his own flesh-and-blood husband, tearing his eyes away from the wooden figure, and finds Lan Xichen sitting there, frozen, with tears rolling down his face as he traces the tiny ridges and dimples of stone and sand and water.

“It’s beautiful,” he chokes, rounding the corner of the table to throw his arms around Nie Mingjue’s shoulders. “It’s the most precious thing you’ve ever made, sweetheart.”

“The most precious thing I helped make is over there,” Nie Mingjue teases, tilting his head at A-Yi. “But I think this one comes pretty close.”

Xichen opens his mouth, and then closes it again; but Jingyi interrupts before he can say anything else, impatient to present his diedie’s gift from his baba.

“Now this one!” he shouts, diving into Xichen’s pocket for a small present in a wooden box, labeled with Jingyi’s name just like Nie Mingjue’s gift was. He all but shoves it into Mingjue’s hands, leaping up and down on the spot while he snaps the lid open--and then he screeches with delight as Nie Mingjue goes crashing to the floor, staring at the contents of the tiny box until his eyes blur over.

He had expected some kind of memento or trinket, like he usually gives to Xichen. But the box was so light, impossibly light--and it holds a pair of hand-knitted baby socks, set neatly on top of a black and white photograph with his husband’s name printed in the upper left corner.

Nie Mingjue has already been a father, already accompanied his husband through the endless doctors’ visits and checkups that came before Jingyi was born. He saved all of Jingyi’s ultrasound pictures, even the ones where A-Yi looked like a chubby white bean on the sonogram, and he stared at every photograph for so long that reading them comes as second nature to him.

"A-Huan,” he says, after a long pause. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming this.”

“You’re not,” Lan Xichen laughs, wiping Mingjue’s face. “I had my first doctor’s visit last week when you and A-Sang took Jingyi to the park. And the clinic ran a few blood tests just in case, so I already know it’s going to be a girl.”

“And you’re okay? Both of you?”

“Very okay, darling. I haven’t even had any morning sickness yet, and the baby’s perfectly healthy.”

Nie Mingjue only cries harder, at that; but Xichen is crying too, clasped in his arms while A-Yi climbs all over them, so perhaps it doesn’t really matter.

All in all, this is the sweetest father’s day he has ever had.

[veggieheist]

Witch!AU Reylo is always a good time 🤩🙌✨🔥

More art on my Instagram✨

Story blurb down below!👇

Rated T

cn // witches , witchcraft , kidnapping , fear of assault

✨🍄✨

Kylo Ren stood in the cool shade of a tree, leaning against the wide trunk nonchalantly, ignoring the other people gathered there to take advantage of the respite from the heat. In the branches above him a mourning dove cooed, a soft sound among the chatter of people and the buzz of the cicadas.

In his hand was a piece of ashwood, small chunks carved out by the whittling knife in his other. He took care with his work, but his sharp eyes lifted every so often, focusing on the girl selling wares from her wagon across the dirt road from the tree. The heat did not seem to affect her much, her tanned skin evidence of her love for the sun.

Kylo watched her over the course of the day. She smiled at passersby, spoke matter-of-factly to those seeking tonics for ailments, laughed with a woman who seemed to enjoy telling local gossip to a new ear, and now seemed very unaffected by the flirtations of a young man. 

Kylo’s eyes narrowed, his hands stilling. The boy was persistent, and she was getting irritated. When the boy tried to reach for her hand, Kylo watched as she let him, pulling close enough for her to whisper something in his ear. Kylo’s skin tingled as the magic wove through the air. The boy staggered back, a dazed look on his face, and then wandered away.

A repelling spell. Kylo scoffed. Smart. But not very smart to do something like that out here, in the open, where anyone could see. The girl’s eyes darted about, looking for the alerted gaze of someone who may have noticed her act of forbidden magic, but there was only one audience member to her indiscretion, and he had his hood up, enchanted to ward off any notice. He was as if part of the shadows; unassuming and forgettable. Her eyes slid over him as expected, and Kylo smirked, returning to his whittling. 

She was the reason he was stood here, sweltering in his black robes and armor. She was a witch, even though she tried to hide it behind her simple tonics and herbs. He’d been tracking her for days, and finally caught up with her here. 

He was on a mission from his master to capture her, and even though he knew not what the purpose was--she was hardly trained, seeming only to be able to harness the bare minimum of power afforded to their kind--but Kylo was not going to question it. 

In the shade of the tree, Kylo wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted his position against the rough bark of the trunk. In his hands the knife moved through the wood object, its shape taking form.

It wouldn’t be difficult to snatch her. He already had a plan; all he had to do now was wait. 

--O*O--

Rey finished gathering up her wares from the table she had set up outside her wagon home, bringing them up the steps to place in the cabinet designed to neatly hold them. It had been a lucrative day, so there weren’t as many going in as she had taken out, and she patted her coin purse with a smile before hiding it. 

She folded the table next to bring it inside as well, setting it back up in front of the bench seat along the right wall. Her wagon was a modest home, but cozy. Her bed was along the back wall, a nest filled with blankets and pillows, an array colorful beads on hanging strings glittered from the waning sunlight coming in through a small window. 

The left side wall contained more cabinets with dishware and food, jars with herbs and preserves, and a small woodfire stove. The right side wall had more cabinets still, although these ones were kept locked. Inside were books, old scrolls, and grimoires, but also some amulets and dangerous items not meant to be handled by innocent humans. 

Rey couldn’t afford to be caught, so she hid them behind concealing charms and repelling spells. No one would search those cabinets because they would seem far too boring to garner any attention. 

She’d already had a close call earlier in the day, when an inquisitive constable had approached her table. He’d carried a large cross hung from his neck, and a sharp look to his eyes. She’d smiled broadly at him, hoping he couldn’t see the anxiety making her sweat. It’s just the heat, she would have said if he’d asked. 

“‘Tonics and tinctures,’ eh? You a witch?” He’d crudely asked, not even trying to be tactful. 

“My great great grandmother was one, sir,” she answered, a lie, probably, since she didn’t know her family, “but all I have is a penchant for medicines. I have a signed letter from a priest, Christening me as a Holy Hand.” 

Most people like her did that--connected themselves to a church to avoid being burned at the stake. They were less likely to be looked at with contempt if it seemed like they were doing God’s work. 

Rey just needed money to get away. To go anywhere. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but so far she hadn’t found it. 

The constable had looked over her letter with a critical eye, but ultimately gave it back and continued on his way with a gruff, “Don’t stay too long.”

It was a warning she would heed. She’d be on the road by first light in the morning. 

Rey brought feed and water to her Clydesdale, murmuring softly to him as he munched. “On to the next town in the morning, Bibi.” Then she whispered a spell to strengthen him and climbed the steps back up into her home. Being a Clydesdale, Bibi was the only kind of horse able to pull her wooden camper by himself, but she still tried to help with whatever magic she could manage. 

Rey shut the wooden door and made a simple meal of bread and vegetable soup, eating at the table silently. By the dying light from the three windows about the cabin, Rey knew it was time to draw the curtains and ready for bed. The lamps filled the small home with warm light, and she was just reaching to untie her corset when a knock came on the door. 

Rey frowned, going to it. There was a latch to open a small window and see who was calling, but it was still difficult to make out the shadowy features of the hooded man standing outside. 

“I’m closed for the evening,” she said. “If you need something I can help you in the morning.”

She closed the latch before the man could answer, a wave of cold gooseflesh making her shiver. The visitor was silent, and she wondered if he’d walked away after a moment of not detecting any sound. She moved to her small closet again when the door latch clicked and swung open.

Rey stood straight, alarmed, sure that she’d locked it. 

“I’m closed,” she said with more conviction, the words for her repelling spell on the tip of her tongue. 

The man who entered her humble dwelling had to duck to get through the small door frame, and his head nearly brushed against the roof. He was broad, dressed in black, and as he entered Rey saw the flash of red gems embedded in the hilt of his sword at his hip.

She sucked in a breath. An inquisitor? Here? Had the constable sent for one?

But no, he didn’t carry any sign of the cross, nor did he have the stench of smoke that seemed to permeate an inquisitor as if their souls were made of ash.

This man had a darkness about him, but he was no witch burner. 

He removed his hood and suddenly Rey felt like her eyes could focus again. She frowned, blinking. Strange. He was handsome, with dark hair in waves to his shoulders, a large nose somehow more elegant than ugly, and piercing eyes the color of whiskey. He seemed to not care that she had already told him twice she was not open.

Rey swallowed but steeled herself. She’d warded off enough men in her life to be able to take this one on easily. 

His eyes went from scanning her to roaming around her living space. She couldn’t help to feel judged, and it made her scowl.

“If you need something, I can help you in the morning,” she said, voice hard. “Please leave.”

He finally looked back at her. Somehow he seemed to fill the entire wagon up with his presence, even though he was still standing in front of the door. That it was open helped Rey feel less trapped.

“I’m looking for something,” he said, ignoring her again. “A kind of herb. Willow’s Needle.”

Rey shook her head. “Willow’s Needle is a forbidden herb, used only by witches. I’m one of the Holy Hand, I don’t do witchcraft. Here,” she found the priest's letter and held it out for him. She tried to control the shaking of her hand. “It’s signed by Father Michael from--”

There was a gust of wind from the open door, blowing the letter from her hand and extinguishing all but one lamp that hung above her bed. The door swung shut, enclosing them together.

Rey stepped back, her heart thundering. The man stood still, staring at her with dark eyes. 

“Are you here to kill me?” She asked, thinking of the knives kept in the drawer by the stove. The man was closer, but Rey knew that even if she could get one it would be no match for his sword. And even then, she had a feeling this man was far deadlier than the piece of sharpened metal at his side.

“No,” he said, taking a slow step forward. He was like an encroaching black cloud, and for all the magic Rey knew she had under her fingertips, she was finding herself far too overwhelmed by his presence to think straight enough to use it. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he told her quietly, within arms reach now. “I feel it too.”

“Feel what?” Rey whispered. 

His lips quirked up on one side.

“Magic.”

His hands rose and Rey took an alarmed step back, gathering strength to try and throw him with a spell, but she stopped. Lights began to sparkle to life as he whispered into his cupped hands, a dazzling display of power that Rey hadn’t witnessed in years. Not since she was a child, before she was taught to keep hidden. 

Her curtains were closed so one would see this forbidden show except her, but it still felt like she shouldn’t even be looking. What if someone saw? What if they accused her of it?

The man lowered his hands to show her his creation, and Rey stepped closer, entranced, warmed by the light. She gave a delighted gasp at the tiny bird made of magic nestled in his gloved palms, and she glanced up to see a much softer expression as he watched her in turn. Rey looked back at the bird, shy in the face of this nameless man’s attention. This rare male witch.

All at once it didn’t matter that he had barged into her home and frightened her. He was like her, and maybe that meant he was lonely too. Maybe he was here to find a traveling partner. Someone to be himself with. 

Rey’s heart ached to be truly seen by someone who wouldn’t be afraid of her.

She’d instinctively held her arms to her chest in a shield when he’d advanced, but now one hand unclenched, wanting to show she wasn’t afraid, that she accepted his magic. The little bird chirped a twinkling song, and Rey smiled, wanting to see if it was as soft as it looked. 

“Go on,” the man murmured, as if he could hear her thoughts. “You can take it.”

Rey smiled and accepted the warm illusion into her own palms. It was a very convincing mirage, one she had never been able to conjure herself. She looked up again, but the man’s face was closed again, his eyes sharp, and all at once Rey felt the illusion evaporate. As soon as the small wooden carving of a bird touched her skin, her whole body froze. 

She couldn’t move. Only her eyes widened in horror at her error. Ashwood.

“It’s a paralysis charm,” he explained as her dread rose. “Carved into the wood. A simple thing, really. Any witch worth her salt would have been able to detect it.” He stepped close, all warmth gone, his cold eyes calculating as they scanned her frozen form once again.

“I don’t know why my master would want a weak vagrant like you, but I suppose you’ll have your uses.”

Rey could only whimper at the implication, and she wished she could move and fight back. But her hands had seized around the bird figurine as if in a cramp, and she knew she would not become unfrozen until it was no longer in her grasp.

The dark witch-man bent and easily picked her up into his arms, her body pliant but still out of her control. He took the few steps to her bed and settled her down in the pillows. Her eyes watched him fearfully, the worst thoughts of his intentions flitting across her mind, a desperation beginning to bloom in her breast that nearly had her whining in an attempt to beg him not to defile her.

But he actually pulled the edge of her skirts down to cover her exposed calves, and then straightened, not giving her unguarded body a second glance.

“You should try to sleep,” he told her. “Fretting won’t do you any good, and the spell won’t go away until the bird does.” 

And then he turned and left, the wood creaking beneath his heavy boots, the door clicking shut behind him. Rey heard the lock latch into place, and then the sounds of heavy hoofs, and straps being moved. The wagon lurched as Bibi was attached to his leads, unfamiliar with the man doing it. Rey willed the horse to stomp him, to run away and find help for her, but she felt a wall in her mind. 

Whoever this witch-man was, he was far more powerful a person than Rey had ever encountered before. 

She heard boots climbing to the perch near the window by her bed, and then the flick of reins. The next time the wagon lurched, it stayed in motion, the whole cabin swaying and jostling from the unpaved road. 

Rey had no idea where she was being taken, or by whom, but she knew if she was going to survive this kidnapping she was going to have to use all of her wits she could muster. 

Anything less and she was sure to succumb to whatever dark agenda awaited her at the end of this journey. 

✨🍄✨

[petri808]

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

This chapter came out a little longer than usual. lemony teasing

Natsu’s secretary called her boss from the front office. “Mr. Dragneel, Mr. Avatar is here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Kinana. Send him in.”

Because no one in the organization was a computer whiz, he contracted with an independent IT person who was recommended by Yura. The guy, Jerome Avatar wasn’t skittish, didn’t care who he worked for as long as it paid well, and generally had a pleasant demeanor. As the accountant, Yura was in contact with Jerome the most, but for any major issues or changes, those had to be cleared with Natsu first. It was mostly quick, in and out of the office dealings.

Jerome shook Natsu’s hand over the desk before taking a seat.

“So,” Natsu questioned, “what brings you here today? Is there something I need to approve?”

“No, nothing new. I asked for this meeting because I came across some intelligence you might be interested in.”

“Oh?”

“I learned that your rival Heartfilia had been in contact with a new cyber security client, Mikage Kaishā who’s into a lot of shady dealings with government contacts.”

Natsu shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds like just a typical client for her, probably has her launder money for them. I don’t really pay attention to her clients because we deal with different things. But I do appreciate you telling me.”

“Should I keep an eye on them?”

“That’s fine if you believe it’s worth it. And if you learn about anything that could hurt us let me know immediately. By the way, how did you find out this information?”

“A friend in the field told me about it, then I hacked into Heartfilia’s computers to authenticate the information.”

Natsu sat forward in his chair. “You hacked into her computer? I’m surprised her employee didn’t catch that, cause I know she’s good at this stuff too.”

The man grinned. “Well, not as good as me.” He pointed to Natsu’s laptop. “If you’d like, I can set it up so you can access her system from your computer too.”

“Oh, I don’t want to tamper with her company—”

Jerome waved a hand nonchalantly to stop him. “I wouldn’t advise it either, if you touch things, that’s what’ll get attention, but you can watch what’s going on. Keep an eye on her calendar, meeting dates, whatever you want.”

Natsu sat back, rubbing his chin. The offer was a very tempting one indeed. A chance to stalk his ex through cyberspace… someone must have mentioned to this Jerome guy their history. It wasn’t exactly hidden, but not something talked about either amongst lower ranking employees. This wasn’t the first time Jerome had brought them intelligence info, so maybe he was looking to increase his usefulness, climb the ladder so to speak? Being connected to a powerful Yakuza house was certainly handy, and what better way than to tap into such a personal subject.

“That could be interesting,” Natsu finally responded. “Alright, what do you have to do to set it up? And make sure it’s nothing I could screw up accidentally cause I really don’t want her to find out.”

Jerome looked at his watch as if calculating his options. “I could do it now. Might take me about an hour if you can go without the laptop for that amount of time.”

“You have to take it back to your office or something?”

“No,” the man shook his head. “I can do it right here, so I can explain along the way.”

“Perfect.” Natsu then called his secretary and requested she double his lunch order due to an extended meeting.

While the computer tech fiddled, Natsu just sat back with his meal, watching him work. Math wasn’t his strong suit— nor academics for that matter. Growing up, his father had always told him he would be next in line as boss, so he only learned what he needed to for that world. One needed strength, cunning, street smarts, not book smarts. Though he had to admit the things these hackers could do was scary when you thought about it. Lucy was lucky in that her best friend was just a wiz at language— including computer languages. It all looked like gibberish, but the woman interpreted it almost like a savant. According to Jerome, from what he’d seen so far, Levy was not yet at his skill level, but that could easily change with time and experience like he’d been through.

“Natsu you—” Gray paused his knock on the doorframe. “Sorry, I thought the meeting would be done by now.”

“It’s fine, Jerome is hacking Lucy’s system for me right now.” Natsu responded with a grin. “Now I’ll see what she’s up to in real time.”

Gray groaned and ran a hand down his face in disgust. “I’m not even gonna respond to that. But I will tell you I told you so when it blows up in your face later.”

“Tch. She won’t know, right Jerome?”

“She shouldn’t unless you touch something.” The man answered while continuing to type.

“See. It’ll be fine.”

“You’re an idiot. Anyway,” Gray waved a hand nonchalantly as he left, “call me when your free to go over the new orders.”

“It will be fine, right?” Natsu asked Jerome a second time with a bit of anxiety in his tone.

Jerome stopped typing. “As long as you just observe they shouldn’t see you, just don’t get excited and touch something.”

“I don’t plan to; not like I’ll know how to do that anyways.”

“I’m almost finished, but do you want me to turn on her web camera so you can see through it?”

“But she won’t see me?”

“No, for you it’ll just be like watching a one-way video feed with image and audio.”

After a momentary pause, Natsu’s eyes narrowed with a mischievous grin. “Do it.”

Being able to see Lucy every day and feed his addiction was just too tempting, ‘I’m turning into a junky.’ But Gray’s words entered his mind. What if the man was right, could this bite him in the ass later? Probably… Though how bad could it really be? He really had no plans to interfere with Lucy’s business, just her personal life— and yes, he knew it sounded horrible. What right did he have to stalk his ex? None. ‘I just worry about her, is that so wrong?’ Lucy’s tough, but she’s just a woman and their world didn’t always treat women fairly. His desire to protect her bordered neuroticism, but could anyone blame him considering the underworld they worked in. ‘I’m just doing it to protect her,’ Natsu justified it to himself. Guys like Gray who haven’t fallen in love yet, ‘they just don’t understand.’ If anything were to happen to Lucy, he didn’t know what he would do. Probably move Heaven and earth and kill any in his way for what they’d done.

It took just over an hour before Jerome finished installing the spyware and making sure the systems were still secured. Just a one-way mirror that Levy shouldn’t catch unless really digging for it. Another 20 minutes were spent explaining to Natsu how to do the accessing part, including pulling up the webcam whenever he wanted to. “Or just leave it running,” Jerome noted. “It’ll just show up in this window,” he pointed towards the screen, “and as long as you don’t log out completely from your computer it’ll stay open.”

“Who turns off their computers?”

“Actually, it’s a good idea to turn them off now and then so any software updates can be completed, but since I manage your systems, there’s not really a need to.”

“Great.” The two men stood up and shook hands. “Thanks, Jerome.”

“It was my pleasure.”

When Natsu arrived each day at headquarters, the first thing and last thing he did was check to see if there was anything new or interesting going on Lucy’s side. It was like being hooked on one of their products, because the high it gave sucked him right in. But so far, he also stayed away from the video feed. Looking through her calendar or emails were cold and impersonal, but maybe the video was too close, too real, too much of a moral dilemma in crossing that line of a peeping Tom. That didn’t mean his addiction may one day require more feeding…

October had rolled around, and the air outside grew crisp and cold. It was a beautiful time of the year with the color changing leaves, reminding that winter was soon upon them. How quickly the time sure flew. The Dragneel Yakuza clan had already started preparing for their end of year Bonenkai to happen in mid-December. This plus the Shinnenkai in January were the two biggest parties the clan threw for all their members. The first is to forget the stresses of the past year, while the other was to welcome a successful new year. Natsu spared no expense on the food and drinks to take care of the loyalty and hard work their members contributed. From the emails, he knew that Lucy’s group had also started preparing for theirs. ‘Maybe I’ll crash her party,’ he mused to himself. ‘Oh, what’s this?’ His eyes fell on a new email of an appointment reminder for the next day. It was for Lucy’s monthly massage at an upscale spa. Natsu checked his own calendar and noticed he had nothing booked, no meetings, no shipments arriving— a perfect opportunity.

The next day, Natsu went to the spa early and spoke directly to the owner, paying them a nice chunk of change to allow him access and to play along. Lucy was scheduled for 2pm and arrived right on time. So, as he waited behind the scenes, the receptionist acted like normal and directed her inside. She had a regular masseuse, something Natsu knew he couldn’t fake upfront, so that person stood inside the room to greet her.

“Welcome, Ms. Heartfilia. I’ll step out while you get ready. Please lie on your stomach like normal.”

“Thank you, Kenji,” Lucy smiled. She’d been coming here for a couple years and was aware of the routine. The male masseuse had strong, but gentle hands and knew her body well by now.

Natsu had to admit he wasn’t happy to find out Lucy’s regular masseuse was a guy but held back from lashing out. He didn’t want to do anything to mess up this adventure— and oh, he planned to have his own revenge. It wouldn’t be as sexual as the soapland incident but knowing many of her trigger points meant he could do a bit of damage well enough. Now, Natsu had noted that Kenji’s voice was a bit deeper than his own, which would be difficult to fake, but the man explained he didn’t do much talking while working and played relaxing music during the session. Perfect. Natsu could just hit play and not talk at all.

“Ready, Ms. Heartfilia?” Kenji called out through the closed door.

The muffled yes was heard, and the man stepped away, leaving Natsu to his business. He entered the room and immediately turned on the pre-set music, a light instrumental with Asian undertones. It was quite pleasing to listen to. And there Lucy was under a silk sheet to cover her naked body, with her arms up and crossed, head perched on the relaxed hands, and hair up in a loose bun, revealing her beautiful neck. Natsu almost shuddered at the sight and knowledge he would get to touch her skin… it was the one thing she didn’t allow him to do at Soapland— touch. His grin grew as he rubbed his hands together to warm them before making the first move.

He moved the sheet to uncover Lucy’s lower half, up to the thighs, then applied a film of scented massage oils to his hands with a few drops over the taut muscles along her long legs, chasing the dripping liquid along her skin to smooth them over. His hands glide through several passes to the swell of her ass, then back down again all the way to the ankles, fingers applying pressure against the tendons and ligaments to gently work out any tension it encountered. Lucy sighed wispily as his hands massaged each foot, squeezing, smoothing, paying attention to each digit and every curve. His thumbs applied pressure at the arches, kneading the tight knots there from wearing heels all day long. He stayed focused on the area, her toes curling and flexing as the mewls leaching from her show their pleasure, until Natsu felt the knots give and relax away.

“Mmm, you’re getting good at that Kenji,” Lucy purred with a little huskiness in her tone.

Natsu grinned to himself as he lowered the sheet back down, so she stayed warm and moved onto her supple ass. Using both hands, he took his time to knead each cheek through the silken fabric, using his fingers to follow the gluteus muscles, starting near the leg, and following the swell of her curve upwards, slowly riding the fibers looking for any knots or tense areas. One cheek, then the other paying loving attention to and listening to the sounds Lucy made to clue him in on where to go. Every sigh a notch in his belt, each mewling purr a win. Natsu grew bolder, fanning out his thumb each time it got closer to her thighs to touch…

“Oh, Kenji,” Lucy whined, “you’re being a naughty boy today— keep it up.”

‘What?!’ Natsu’s hands paused and tensed for a split second before catching himself. Does Kenji mess with her too?! He shook his head and finished up in the area quickly trying not to let such thoughts stop him. ‘Just focus…’ Natsu grumbled in his head.

After applying more oil to his hands, he moved the sheet down to reveal Lucy’s back and for a second time, Natsu paused on what it contained. Her tattoo… It symbolized… he took a deep breath and dropped more oil on to the skin, willing away the memories breaching his mind. He didn’t want to think about it, not now. It was too painful.

“You okay, Kenji?” Lucy questioned as if noticing the slight pause or tremble in the man’s hands.

Natsu mumbled a soft Mmhmm and dived into the massage so Lucy wouldn’t grow more concerned, missing the uptick in the corners of her lips. He slowly smoothed along the skin using the base of his palms for pressure, each hand following the muscles, moving out from the waist, up the center of her back, and flaring out towards the sides just below the shoulder blades, repeating the same movement, each time increasing the speed while lessening the pressure. Next, he targeted the upper back and shoulder blades, an area he knew Lucy held a lot of tension from carrying the weight of her voluptuous bosoms. With precise ministrations, Natsu applied careful pressure with his thumbs and follows the curve of the blades up and around to the top of the shoulder. He then searched with the pads of his fingers for any knots along her trap muscles, moving up along the spine and fanning out to the top of her shoulders.

“Oh, yeah, right there,” Lucy mewled when he reached a specific spot.

The area around her spine, between the shoulder blades held the most tension and knots from constantly holding the upright, flexed posture that wearing heels will create. Her wispy sighs signaled the release of her tense muscles, bringing another wave of pride swelling in him. Natsu continued onto her neck, his strong hands kneaded the supple flesh, fingers palpating and soothing all the knots. Her neck too, held a few tense areas, especially around the base of the head, so he did his best to melt them away. He worked through Lucy’s mewls and moaning sighs, almost sexual in nature, aroused and a little heated in the face knowing his handiwork brought forth such sounds. Ugh, how he wanted to hear more of it! Lucy putty in his hands and spread between his thighs, calling out his name…

“You’ve gotten better at this… Natsu,” the cocky teasing tone, snapped him out of his dream.

“Natsu?” He tried failingly to disguise his voice. “I’m Kenji, Ms. Heartfilia.”

“Uh-huh. You think I can’t tell the difference Natsu?” Lucy quipped back with a chuckle. “Kenji’s routine is very different. Plus, I knew the moment I smelled your cologne.”

Busted.

“Tch. Well, if you knew it was me all along, why’d you let me do this?”

“Making you work is my payback.” She settled back down, relaxed on her arms. “Now, chop, chop, finish the job.”

This little minx! He was the one supposed to be torturing her this time, not the other way around! “Fine, kitten.” Natsu gritted out a smile and took hold of her neck again to placate and lull Lucy back into thinking he would go along. He massaged the sides with the tips of his fingers Both hands wrapped around, and his thumbs pushing up through her hair against the muscles on the back of her head.

“If only you’d taken care of me like this before,” Lucy mumbled.

Natsu paused and leaned over her ear. “Why not let me take care of you now?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“No, I don’t know the answer, that’s part of the problem!”

Lucy sighed. “Natsu, I don’t want to fight right now. I’m here to relax, not fight. If you’re done, then leave and send Kenji back in.”

“Oh, yeah. Why? Because he’s another one of your boy toys? He gonna be naughty again with you once I leave?!”

“Pfft, I said that knowing it was you, idiot.”

“I think you live to torture me, Angel. But you’re right. I don’t wanna fight right now either, so—” Natsu leaned down quick and latched his mouth onto the area between her shoulder blades, sucking hard.

Lucy squealed and reached back frantically trying to claw at his face, but he grabbed her hands, knowing if she struggled any harder, she risked completely exposing herself. He held her for a few seconds, and once satisfied he’d achieved his goal, let go.

“Natsu! Did you put a hickey on me?!”

“This Angel,” he trailed his fingers over Lucy’s tattoo as he spoke, “belongs to me. Will always be mine,” he whispered close to her ear. “You know it, I know it, and your boy toys will know it too.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah,” Natsu stood up and covered her back up with the sheet. “You hate that you don’t hate me. It’s okay. I still love you too. See ya around kitten.”

Natsu heard the woman’s sigh as the door closed behind him and smiled to himself. He knew she didn’t actually hate him, their relationship was just complicated at the moment, never love the actual problem between them… Though, it had been a dick move to give her a hickey, but that’s what Lucy gets for leading him on like that. She could’ve just stopped the massage immediately if she knew it was him all along, so to let him go through the entire process, it was tit for tat— and hey, at least it’s only temporary.

‘It’s your move next kitten…’