#ladies finger curry

[buffetlicious]

My takeaway of Economy Rice (菜饭) that mum bought in Chong Pang during her morning marketing trip. Just a quick pick of curry chicken, steamed egg custard and stir-fried lady's fingers or okra with curry gravy drizzled over.

[coldhardbinch]

How I always feel after five minutes of trying to understand Jane Rochford's motives

[paranoiastudio]

Lady Strong

pairing: Aemond Targaryen х f!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, angry sex, oral (m for f), reader is Laris Stronge daughter

word count: 1,4k

English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes

- He's like a snake that's been stepped on. - The doors to the Small Council close and you lean back against them.

Aemond is still sitting at the head of the table, where his brother had been just a few days ago, staring at you.

As always, you feel unsure and nervous under his gaze. That's what attracted you to him; few could make you lose your cool.

- What did you tell him?

- What i had to say. - He evades the question and looks away. An unpleasant chill runs down the back of your neck, a sure sign that something is wrong.

- That's not an answer. - You move around the chamber, the only sound being the rustle of your dress. Aemond says nothing more, only watches you, as if expecting an attack to come.

- I asked him to send for my grandfather. - Aemond lets you take a glass from the table. - I will appoint him Hand again.

- Interesting... - You take a sip. - Dornish wine?

A quiet "uh-huh" was your answer and you take another sip, usually your father did not allow you to drink undiluted wine, emphasizing the importance of maintaining a sober mind.

- And what about my father?

- He is still on the Council... For now.

- And?

- What else do you want to hear? - Targaryen smiles, an insolent smirk twisting his thin lips. - Did you really think that because I fuck you, I would curry favor with your slippery father?

- How dare you speak to me like that?

- I am the prince regent now, it is you who behave inappropriately, barging in here and starting arguments you cannot win.

You spill the contents of the glass, scarlet droplets of wine running down Aemond face and doublet, he closes his good eye. You are not ashamed, it was you who helped him get to where he is now. You deserve respect.

- I am not a mare, my prince! And do not forget about the friends who were with you from the very beginning. Especially since sex...

Aemond pays you with your coin. You knew that you brought him out and were ready, the wine flies past you and ends up on the floor, in the place from which you dodged.

- Missed! - You rejoice like a child, and, leaving the glass on the edge of the table, head for the exit.

You hear footsteps behind you, Aemond can easily catch up with you and press you to the table, you hit the hard edge painfully with your hips and hiss with anger.

- How can such an intelligent woman behave like a little child? - The prince's hand is already entangled in your hair, painfully pulling out the hairpins and hairpins. - Didn't I explain your situation to you well enough? Didn't your father teach you how to behave properly? How can he be a good Hand?

You remain silent, clutching the cold edge of the table with your hands and hissing again when Aemond yanks your hair hard, urging you to raise your head.

- Tell me, sweet girl, is your father worthy of this place? - Gods, he bent you down right next to the place of the Hand, not long ago the smartest men sat at this table, and now...

- Let me explain again. - Targaryen lifts the skirts of your dress and runs his long fingers between your thighs.

- Aemond... - A sharp slap on your ass silenced you. - My prince, please...

No one had ever had power over you, even your father was not perceived as a strong figure. But Aemond Targaryen... He seemed to radiate confidence and authority, everything in his image spoke of it and could not help but attract.

The ladies of the court whispered about the prince's scar and his coldness (he did not court the ladies, never danced), despite his status and royal blood, Aemond was not an enviable groom.

Just as the daughter of Laris Strong was not an enviable bride. Your character and the reputation of your house did not play into your hands and so far you have not received a single worthy proposal of marriage. And, having met Aemond Targaryen, you gave yourself to him without hesitation as soon as he asked. To be under his protection, not to think about anything and just take his beautiful member...

- Now are you behaving well? - Another slap falls on your thigh. - I'm afraid if I forgive you right away, you'll continue to behave like a little naughty girl.

Aemond's hands caress your thighs, spread your buttocks and tease the most intimate parts of your body, the places that were now shamelessly exposed to him.

- My sweet girl... - You hear him kneel behind you, and before you can say anything, the prince's hands are replaced by his tongue.

You cover your mouth with your hand, hoping that the guards outside don't hear you. A warm tongue slides along the wet entrance and flicks the plump and needy clitoris. Aemond's hands spread your buttocks further, forcing your legs wider and penetrates you with his tongue.

The prince's handsome nose rests against your pearl and each of his movements gives off a pleasant tremor in your body. The peak grows quickly and you can't hold back a groan of disappointment when Aemond's mouth leaves you.

Two long fingers replace the prince's tongue and he immediately picks up a fast and rough pace, enjoying your sobs and the quiet squelching of your cunt.

- Aemond, please... - You barely get used to the stretching, when the blond prince deprives you of this pleasure. - My king, please!

You can't hold back a scream, because Aemond fills you with a sweeping movement, and, without giving you a second, begins to move.

You hit the table, your hands slide on the cold tabletop, and the tight corset prevents you from breathing normally, but all this seems insignificant at the moment when the prince regent's cock touches that very place inside you again and again.

- Don't stop! - You breathe heavily, lowering your hot cheek onto the cold table. Your hips rise and Aemond penetrates deeper, hoarsely moaning behind your back.

- You like it, right? To be my dirty little whore... - Your pussy clenches even tighter at the words, the way he talks to you lecherously with his perfect voice stirring something dark inside you. - What would your father say about you?

- Don't you dare. - You slap the prince's hands that are clutching your waist. - Now is not the time!

- I'm fucking Larys Strong's daughter in the Small Council chamber after I failed to appoint him Hand. - Aemond slows down slightly. - Now seems like the time.

You push yourself down on him, pushing your hips back. The tension in your body is unbearable and you feel your pussy tremble and suck on the Targaryen's cock harder.

Aemond continues to whisper something, but you can’t focus, overwhelmed by the orgasm that crashed over you like a tsunami.

You gasp for air, all the muscles in your body relax and you scream from the intense stimulation, because Aemond is not done with you yet.

Holding you with one hand, he finds your clit with the other and continues to caress you, chasing his release. It didn’t take him long, so tightly you squeezed him with your hot and tender walls.

- Fuck! - Targaryen leaves your body and spills onto your thighs, red from his grip.

The prince never cum inside, not wanting to burden you both with unwanted children. You took moon tea, but you appreciated this caution in your lover’s behavior.

- I hope we will not return to this conversation anymore. - Aemond kisses your nape and inhales the scent of your long hair.

- I suppose so. - You lean against the man's broad chest. - Is this from your bride?

There was a scroll on the table with the seal of House Baratheon. You knew that Aemond was bound by duty and his flight to Storm's End was no fun, but it was one thing to know about it, and quite another to welcome a daughter of House Baratheon here in the castle.

- Do we have to discuss this now? - Aemond dresses and carefully adjusts your dress.

- Will your future wife not mind that you have me? - You couldn't bring yourself to say "mistress."

- Frankly, I don't care. - Aemond's grip regains its former strength. - If you wish to discuss this matter, I think we will be more comfortable in my chambers.

You may not have been able to improve your father's position, but you seem to have found a cozy place for yourself.

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

Sanji x Fem Reader helping her cook a meal

🍳Sanji🍳

Word Count: 1108

“I need your help,” a soft voice rang in his ears catching Sanji’s attention. He glanced up to stare at the female figure standing in front of him holding a large cookbook with complicated recipes in it. She just smiled gently at him, “I want to surprise my crush with a romantic three-course meal,” she held up three fingers.

Sanji frowned at hearing the word crush escaping her lips. He stared at the beautiful woman with the even beautiful innocent smile unaware of how her words hurt him. He frowned at the thought of the stupid Marimo that had caught her attention earlier today as they shared a private conversation. Sanji had watched getting a little envious watching the two. He could only watch his own crush flirting with another man.

“You know he probably wouldn’t appreciate all the work you did preparing his meal,” he thought of the stupid swordsman who barely appreciated the delicacy of food and rather drown everything he ate with sake. “You should probably make something simple for him,” he added quickly before he could hurt the woman with cruel words. He was a gentleman first, hurting a lady’s feelings wasn’t in his nature.

His grey-blue eyes scanned the woman reading any signs to see her thoughts, but she just smiled at him unaffected.

“I worry I wouldn’t be able to impress him if I stuck too simple,” she answered him, “He would probably treat it like any other gift,” she answered glancing away. Sanji took the book from her hand and flipped through the recipes. They were complicated and would at least take a whole day to make and multiple hands and move quickly so the food wouldn’t burn or overcook.

“If the moron isn’t impressed with a gift you made from your heart he isn’t worth your time,” he said closing the book. He watched her face drop a little, “I think I know a recipe that should impress him and easy enough,” he added quickly, removing his cigarette from his lips.

She smiled at him, “I trust you,” she told him. He ignored the gut-wrenching feeling twisting in his stomach, the feeling of jealousy and anger knowing that the stupid swordsman wouldn’t appreciate her cooking. He wouldn’t appreciate her as a woman as a person.

Still, he would help her out in many ways he can just to see her smile.

--

The curry recipe was simple but took a lot of work more than she expected. Gathering the ingredients he helped her through the steps, he couldn’t stop the few snarky comments that would escape his lips about her crush. 

He couldn’t imagine the stupid swordsman appreciating the work she put into making the meal or appreciating the taste of the curry. “He has no tastebuds you know,” Sanji said as he was moving the meat in the pan, “I am going to kill him if he just swallows the food,”

She just laughed a bit, “I am sure he will enjoy it after all he appreciates hard work,” she was unaffected by Sanji’s words each insult he had towards her crush was followed by words of flattery about her. He was always sweet carrying about her feelings and keeping her safe. He was the first to help whenever she needed help and was always there when she needed him. She just hoped he enjoyed the meal she cooked for him.

She was deep in thought as she peeled the potato’s mind worried about Sanji’s reaction when she did give him the food. Would he accept her love, or would he compare her to Nami or Robin? She frowned her heart aching at the thought of rejection. Would the blond hand accept her love or would he treat her like a friend always in the friend zone?

“Ouch,” she hissed as the knife cut through her skin, she dropped the potato and glanced at the cut on her index finger, blood slowly began to drip from the cut. Trying to keep calm she glanced surprised when Sanji was holding her hand and staring at the wound with a concerned look on his face.

“You have to be careful when using a knife princess,” he said holding her hand close to her lips.

Her heart rate increased rapidly in her chest; she was about to play the part of the female lead when the male lead licked the blood away.  Instead, though he dragged her to the table and sat her down pulling out the first aid kit.

He had cut himself numerous times when he was younger and learning to cook the wound itself wasn’t deep but he and been worried. His first reaction was to grab her delicate fingers and lick the blood away, but he had to hold back her fingers inches from his lips. He stopped himself, he had to address the wound first then they would get back to cooking.

“Why didn’t you lick my wound?” She couldn’t hide her disappointment as he was cleaning the wound, with a cotton ball and disinfecting it. He didn’t want her beautiful skin scarred. She was sure if it was Nami or Robin he would have played the romantic hero.

“The stupid swordsman wouldn’t blink twice when he sees how hard you worked on his meal,” Sanji growled he couldn’t hide his irritation the beautiful woman before him was hurt. She was working so hard for an asshole who only cared about booze and swords. He frowned at the thought of her fingers getting cut and was scared for the jerk who would only swallow it and not appreciate anything.

“Hmm, what about Zoro?” she questioned tilting her head hair falling in front of her face. Sanji was wrapping it with a bandage and taking care of her wound.

“He is a dumbass,” Sanji said, “He wouldn’t know good food if it hit him in the face,” why couldn’t he shut up. He was furious seeing her go through all that work and knowing the dumbass would just stomp on her feelings, “but your hearts belong to another man, and I am a gentleman and will respect it,” he sighed as he held her hand he wanted her to understand she was important to him. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“My heart belongs to you,” she whispered. “The meal was for you,” she glanced at the floor ashamed preparing for rejection.

Sanji stared into her his own heart ready to burst before he could only chuckle, “Then I will gladly accept,” it moving her hand close to his lips he nibbled on her finger.

[lumiereswig]

Beauty and the beast but the people who are normally the good guys are evil

heheheheheheee I actually have a playlist called “evil batb” I listen to when I am ready to be wicked and commit crimes

Agatha cursed Adam at the last moment not as a sort of justice from hell measure but because he was about to crush her windpipe. sometimes self defense has to be a spell you set with your own blood. she crumples to the floor, dead, as Adam grows bones and claws and nails and teeth—and teeth—and teeth—and teeth….

In this timeline, a girl who might have just once been a dreaming bookworm has gone mad with loneliness, her heart a husk of what it was. she had a mother once, who died. she had a father once, who lived, staring at nothing, his fingers tinkering with gears that never fit. the magic and adventure never came. and when she hears there's a monster in the woods, she thinks I can turn my loneliness to some good measure. I'll go and kill the beast. Maybe then someone here in this village will take me as I am, if I finally have blood on my hands.

why was Adam trying to kill Agathe? because he doesn't trust magic, never has. What good is magic if the people you love can die and they do nothing to stop it? Agathe could have kept his mother from dying. Agathe could have stopped his father, any chance she had. but loneliness and anger creates more loneliness and anger, and in his desire to kill the last magic thing in the forest he becomes it, himself, roaring through the hallways and filling the rooms with a shaggy, aching rage.

Belle shows up and these two souls who don't have one good thing to say about the rest of the world start trying to kill each other—Adam because he has nothing left to be but a beast; Belle because she has nothing left to be but a slayer.

the staff are evil too!! oh my god they’re all so bad! but they’re bad in like, the campy tim curry ooo I’m evil because I wear leather kind of way. they’re bad like muppets. plumette throws knives lumiere wears thigh-highs cogsworth plots and schemes on like, how to set the table with purple napkins instead of white. in a previous life mrs. potts was a master assassin. they're all so busy dancing to lady gaga and being gay they never get around to actually committing any crimes.

what’s Gaston doing here? Gaston is simply a Man of the People! He’s been put down Too Long! he is in love with Belle and entirely unknowing that she’s got a heart made of holes. he's big into examining himself from a "safe and healthy perspective" and discussing every aspect of his personality in therapy but hasn't actually noticed that Belle is lonely or, uhh, not here anymore because she went to kill the monster in the woods and that was five weeks ago.

as naturally happens when two angry toxic people with precisely the same cocktail of loneliness meet, Adam and Belle segue quickly from trying to kill each other to, oopsie, relating over their shared griefs and maybe actually finding solace in each other. Are they in a healthy relationship? Absolutely not! Oh my god nobody go near them! They're surrounded by evil gay furniture why would you even want to! But they are what the other one needs, in this broken and fragile state, and I don't think anyone should fault them for holding onto each other, if it's the only life raft they have, as they patch their broken pieces in the only ways they know how. No one wants to be wicked. Some just have shadows that grow longer, and need a little sun to light the way.

So maybe they're damned. It's not a bad thing to be damned together.

[grimalkinmessor]

WiP Wednesday (except it's not Wednesday) ✨

.

When the sun gets low enough that sky starts to redden, Shigeo stands and rounds his desk, motioning for Arataka to follow. Arataka cocks an eyebrow, curious, and bounds after him. They exit the office and walk down the street, the bustle of people more muted now that it's getting later in the day. When their destination comes into view, Arataka perks up—before shutting back down just as abruptly. His expression closes off, turning into something reminiscent of Shigeo's.

Shigeo tilts his head, stepping forward to push and hold the door open for him. "Arataka-kun?"

"I'm, uh, I'm not hungry," Arataka says, standing resolutely outside the door to Takada-san's cafe. Shigeo's brow furrows in concern. Arataka is always hungry.

Case in point; his stomach chooses that moment to let out a loud rumble, giving away his lie. Arataka clutches his stomach, mortified.

"It's not another gift if that's what you're worried about," Shigeo tries to reassure, even though it is. "I wanted a curry bun."

"...Yeah," Arataka croaks, then clears his throat, his voice growing chipper again. "Yeah okay then. A custard bun sounds tasty right about now, so," he muses as he strides past Shigeo, his little hands folded imperiously behind his back. He'd look like a little businessman if it not for how frayed his uniform is.

Shigeo ambles after him, having to duck his head some so that he doesn't bang it on the bell rig like he did last time. Takada-san is behind the display case, placing a rack of shortcakes inside, and her eyes widen when she sees them.

"Ah, Kageyama-kun! And Reigen-chan, how are you?" she calls, shooing the poor teen running the cash register away from their post so she can take over as Arataka bounds up to the counter.

"We're doing well, oba-san," Arataka sings, propping his elbows on the counter and cupping his own face in his palms in what Shigeo recognizes as his signature puppy eyes. "I wanted to come pay you a visit! You have the best sweets in Seasoning City, you know—it's no wonder though, when they're made by a lady as sweet as you."

Takada-san scoffs and waves a hand fondly at him. "What a charmer. You keep an eye on him, Kageyama-kun, or someone might snatch him up!" She pinches Arataka's cheek and then gives Shigeo a wink, crows feet deepening at the corner of her eyes as she smiles.

Shigeo comes up behind Arataka and nods solemnly. "I will."

Arataka smushes a hand over his face, making a strange, high-pitched noise into his fingers before throwing his elbow back into Shigeo's side, complaining, "Mob-shishou, she was being rhetorical!"

"Oh." Shigeo blinks. "Sorry."

"You two," Takada-san chuckles. She plucks a stylus from the elastic of her silver bun, tapping it over the ordering screen. "So what can I get you?"

[its-jaytothemee]

Until I Met You - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Into Darkness

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 5,596

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

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Summary: Tav and her companions make the journey into the shadow cursed lands of Moonrise. She and Halsin struggle to cope with the darkness choking the land, but are lucky enough to find a small pocket of light among it. Part 21 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.

Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.

A/N: Let's get this act 2 party started! The chapters dealing with act 2 are going to be much heavier with angst and hurt/comfort but I'll sprinkle in some lighter stuff when I can!

The darkness was even heavier than Halsin remembered. He felt as if the long tendrils of shadow were weaving their way into his lungs, replacing the very air he breathed. Everyone stood still, unable to take another step forward as they began to realize the depth of the curse on this land. Tav was tense beside him, her fingers pressed into the back of his hand as she continued to hold it by her side.

“I don’t know what I expected, but damn – this place is cursed.” Karlach let out a shaky breath.

“I tried to picture it in my head but…this…” Shadowheart trailed off for a moment. “This is a lot.”

“I think I may have been a bit overzealous trying to push us here sooner.” Wyll’s voice was quiet, yet it still carried through the cold air. “Hold close to the light and keep the shadows at bay.”

“We press forward. Maybe we can find a place to camp around the lighter parts of the curse. Keep your torches up, we have spares if we start to lose any. Stay close together, and we might just survive this.” Tav kept her voice strong and confident, but Halsin could still feel her hand shaking in his.

She led them forward, pulling Halsin along behind her. Her other hand held her torch out in front of her to persuade the shadows around them to remain at arm’s length. The cold feeling seeping into his skin threatened to drag him back down into his darkest memories. Only the warmth of Tav’s hand seemed to keep him grounded and present with their traveling party.

The corruption of the shadow curse had weaved its way into every fiber of the land. The trees and vines surrounding them were lined with the dark energy, warped beyond the control of his druidic magic. He reached out to touch one of them and felt nothing. The hollow echo he sensed caused his throat to tighten and tears to sting his eyes.

What if that means that Thaniel is…is…

Halsin pushed the thoughts away. He couldn’t afford to fall to despair. Soon enough he hoped to have his answers, best to hang on to that hope as long as possible. As they continued their wary stroll, Shadowheart stopped abruptly, causing her to linger back out of their torchlight. Her torch, he noticed, was no longer lit.

“Shadowheart! Stay close!” Tav turned to scold her.

“The curse…” She was looking at her hands in wonder. “It’s not affecting me like everyone else.”

“That’s not possible.” Halsin stayed close to Tav, each of them holding a torch high in the air.

“You know what this means?” Shadowheart looked between all of them, tears of pride shining in her green eyes. “I’ve been blessed.”

Tav stiffened at his side, her nails digging into the back of the hand she still held.

“Lady Shar, she’s blessed me while others are left to face her wrath. She loves me…” A few tears rolled down her cheeks, sparkling with each pop of the fire adorning their torches.

“Okay, so what does that mean for us?” Astarion turned to ask.

“She wouldn’t bless me without reason, no matter how much favor I’ve curried with her.” Shadowheart looked lost in thought for a moment. “Grymforge, all the signs of Dark Justiciars we’ve found, it’s no coincidence. I need to remain on the lookout for any place dedicated to Lady Shar. A temple, perhaps.”

“This whole damned place is dedicated to Shar thanks to her dark magic.” Tav spat back, her nails felt like they were embedded in Halsin’s skin, but he made no move to take his hand back. “You say she loves you? All she’s done is provide you with protection from her own corrupt power. That’s not love.”

“It is not for me to question my Lady’s will. She will show me the path to follow, I’m sure of it. Besides, it’s a good thing I’m protected, it means I can help us navigate these lands.” He could have sworn he saw a brief flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

“You wouldn’t need her help navigating these lands if they hadn’t been destroyed in the first place.” Tav started to take a step towards Shadowheart, but Halsin held her back.

“Regardless,” he interrupted, squeezing Tav’s hand to try and soothe her temper, “This will all be for nothing if we can’t find a safe haven within the shadows or a more reliable way to shield the rest of us. Having one person protected from them will not be enough.” He tried to keep his tone level, but his own hatred of Shar soaked into every word. Being here with one of her faithful disciples would be…challenging to say the least.

Tav took a shuddering breath beside him as she turned to continue their exploration. Her grip on his hand had loosened, now back to a comfortable hold as she pulled him along behind her.

“Is it just me, or do the shadows seem worse somehow? Heavier? Almost as if…” Tav trailed off as she took in their surroundings.

“As if they’re spreading.” He finished her thought. “Yes, I feel it too.”

He had never considered the possibility of the curse spreading, the theory brought waves of guilt crashing down on him. How far would they roam if given the opportunity?

Time is short, we must find Thaniel. It’s time to tell her.

“Tav, I need to tell you something.” He whispered, still holding her hand tight in his.

“Can it wait? I hear something up ahead.” She turned toward him as she spoke, but her attention was clearly elsewhere.

“Of course.” His shoulders slumped at her reply, he had been anxious to get his plan off his chest.

Tav began to take her hand back, her fingers slowly starting to slip away from him. He tightened his grip, not wanting to let go of her just yet.

“Is everything okay?” She turned around to face him, concern obvious in her expression.

“Yes, of course, everything is fine. My apologies.” He reluctantly let go of her hand but not before she gave it one final squeeze. Even in the unnatural darkness around them, he caught the faintest hint of a blush across her cheeks as she grinned at him. His now free hand reached up to touch the braid she had woven into half of his hair earlier this morning.

They crept through the woods, making their way down the gnarled vines and branches that littered the ground. He heard voices and saw the glow of firelight shining from behind a rocky hillside.

“Stay together…keep to the light!” An unfamiliar voice called out in the darkness.

Tav motioned for them to hold their position behind her. When Halsin peered around to look at her, she looked as if she had seen a ghost. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke again.

“Harpers.”

***

Tav crouched frozen in place, processing the sight before her. The four people in front of her all wore the silver harp pin used by the Harpers.

So, the Harpers have made their way back to Moonrise.

For the first time in so many years, true hope swelled inside of her. If these Harpers had found a way to survive here, maybe there was a chance that Tev was here as well. Maybe others survived too. Perhaps they had just been trapped and awaiting rescue.

Without thinking, she took a couple more steps forward.

“Tav? What are you doing?” Karlach’s panicked whispers called out to her.

“It’s okay. They’re Harpers and they haven’t been affected by the curse. They could help us!” She whispered back, her excitement must have been clear on her face. The renewed hope that Tev could be here, alive, propelled her forward.

“Stop! Who’s there?” The Harper leading the group called out to her.

“My name is Tav, I’m a friend.” She stepped out into their line of sight with her hands held up.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” The curly-haired woman kept her eyes locked on Tav.

“I’m one of you, an ally.” She slowly reached for her pack and spun it around to show them the small silver Harper pin fasted to the side.

“Anyone could have grabbed a pin off a corpse. Now come into the light, hands high.”

Tav complied, signaling the others to follow her. The small troop of Harpers gave them wary looks, studying them by the light of their torches, trying to size them up. Their eyes moved from Tav over the rest of their travelling party, eyeing the small pack of animals following in their footsteps. One of the Harpers was backing away from them, his face twisted with fear and uncertainty.

Stay in the light…

The curly-haired Harper turned back to one of her companions. “Yonas! Move in!” She ordered.

Their warning came too late. One of the shadows had appeared behind him. Tav watched in horror as it sank its claws into Yonas’s back and dragged him away into the trees. The other Harpers ran after him with their torches, desperately calling out to him, beckoning him back to the light.

“Follow my voice! Come back to the light!” The Harper leading the group yelled toward him.

Tav looked back at Halsin, terrified, a knowing look on both of their faces. He shook his head slowly. A low growl sounded from Lunari next to her.

It’s too late, the shadows have claimed him.

Memories of her first time in the shadows came rushing back to her. Once again, they threatened to paralyze her, to drag her into their cold abyss. But then she looked around to her friends whose faces had warped into varying states of horror and fear. Halsin’s face had paled, his eyes fixed on the place where Yonas had been standing. Tav snapped herself back to the present. She forced herself to be here for them. Above all else, she would not lose anyone else to this wretched curse.

A pained scream echoed from the trees where Yonas had been dragged away. The sound made Tav flinch as the chorus of those familiar screams came back into her mind. She watched as the other Harpers recoiled away from the sound, accepting that their companion was lost. More shadows swirled around them, silent hunters stalking their prey. The now cursed Harper, Yonas, moved toward them.

“…Join…me…” The unnatural voice called to them.

“There is nothing more to be done for him, we’ll help take care of this. Stick together, stay in the light. No heroics.” Tav’s voice sounded weaker than she meant it to be.

“Harpers – you heard the woman. To arms!”

Weapons were drawn but had to be balanced with the torches they all held in their hands. She couldn’t use a bow with one hand unavailable.

“Fuck.” She muttered as another group of shadows descended on them.

She took her torch and threw it into a nearby brazier to help illuminate the area, freeing up her other hand for her bow.

The unnerving screeches coming from the shadows sent bone-chilling shivers throughout her body. Her companions had shaken off their shock and joined the fight. As Shadowheart came running down the gnarled vines, Tav noticed the wraiths and shadows flinching away from her.

The mace.

“Shadowheart! Stay close!” Tav fired a shot at the cursed Harper.

“I told you, I’m fine!” She snapped back as she called forth radiant spirits to swirl in a protective circle around her.

“No!” Tav growled, having no energy to hide her annoyance. “The mace! I think it’s hurting them!”

Another agitated shriek from a wraith helped support her theory.

“Stay close to Shadowheart!” She waved her other companions down to her side.

They circled around her with the Harpers, huddling close to the radiant light of Lathander to keep the shadows weak. The curse felt even lighter in the warm glow of the mace than with torches. They all stood with their backs facing each other, their animal companions in the center along with Barcus, keeping the gaps close so the enemies couldn’t permeate their ranks. Spells and arrows soared through the air to combat the relentless shadows. Pained groans rang around the circle of fighters as a few swipes broke through the light.

“Everyone, back up!” Shadowheart called out the command as the shadows swarmed on one side of their clustered group.

They parted to give her room, moving behind her and to the sides just in time for her to unleash a giant beam of radiant energy through the remaining enemies. The shadows and wraiths dissipated into the surrounding darkness and Yonas’s body fell to the ground.

“Argh, how can something made of shadow and mist hurt so bad?” Karlach groaned as she held her side where a small black scrape was etched into her skin.

“Here, love.” Tav dug a small healing potion out of her bag. Karlach drank it in one gulp and let out a sigh of relief as the injury faded. The curly-haired woman approached them.

“Well done, but we need to move. I know a safe place if you–”

“Last Light Inn?” Tav cut her off.

“Y-yes. How did you know?” The Harper gave her a bewildered look, followed by more suspicion.

“I found this letter on a Harper in Grymforge.” Tav handed over the parchment for her to read. “We need to find a way into Moonrise Towers. Can you help us?”

“Jaheira will want to speak with you.” She tucked the paper into her pocket. “Please, join us at Last Light.”

Tav’s breath caught.

She is here, she’s found a safe haven.

“We’ll follow behind you.”

***

The short fight left Halsin drained. Seeing the shadow beings in action again, watching yet another person be twisted and claimed by the curse, it was almost too much to bear. He tried to take a step, but his legs wouldn’t comply, the horrid memories of Moonrise left him frozen in place and unable to act.

The group of Harpers said something to Tav that he couldn’t make out before running back in the direction from which they came. She stood there looking after them, motionless. In the dim firelight he could just barely perceive the tremors rolling over her body. The sight caused the ache in his chest to return, and the energy to flow back into his muscles. He jogged up to her side and quickly pulled her into a hug, realizing he needed it as much – if not more – than she did.

“I thought I could handle this…” Her breathing was unsteady, and her entire body was shaking.

“We can, Tav. We’ll do it together.” He assured her as he held her tight against him. She reached up and hugged him back as she buried her face into his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry. We had no idea…” Karlach had joined them down by the brazier. “This darkness is heavy.”

“That it is.” Halsin kept his arms tight around Tav as he rested his chin on top of her head.

“Last Light Inn.” Her words were muffled by his shoulder.

“What did you say?” He pulled back to look at her.

“They’re going to Last Light, it’s somehow safe from the shadows. Jaheira’s there, Halsin.”

Amidst the fear, he could see hope shining through her eyes.

She thinks Tev might be there as well.

“Then let us make haste.”

***

Last Light Inn was only a short walk away from the small clearing where they fought the shadows. Tav’s heart started pounding as they approached a large dome of light. A familiar light teeming with Selûnite magic. The moment she crossed its threshold, the warmth flowed back into her body, giving her a moment of respite from the curse. She took in her surroundings, surprised to see so many people gathered here. And not just Harpers. The symbol of the Flaming Fist adorned many breastplates that passed her by. She even saw children running around, tiefling children.

The dream visitor’s voice glided into her thoughts. “This must be the refuge the Harpers spoke of.”

“Yes, this is Last Light Inn.” Tav replied in her mind.

She scanned the small crowd for the Harpers she met earlier, hoping they could point her to Jaheira. Before she could locate them, another group of Harpers surrounded her and her companions.

“Hold it right there!” A young woman shouted as she pointed a crossbow at Tav’s chest. She held her hands up in front of her.

“Easy!” The curly-haired Harper came running to her defense. “She’s with me.”

“Lassandra, what is the meaning of this?” A stout dwarf pointing a sword at Karlach’s abdomen called back at her.

“This is the woman who fought the shadows with us. She had the letter.” Lassandra beckoned them to stand down. After a moment they complied, still giving Tav and the others apprehensive looks.

“Come with me.” Lassandra waved for her to follow.

Tav took the lead as her friends trailed a few steps behind, each of them on high alert. She took in the crowd around her, desperately hoping she would see those messy white curls come running toward her.

It’s been so long. Could we even recognize each other?

“Jaheira!” Lassandra called out as they walked into the small courtyard. Hearing her name snapped Tav back to reality.

Standing before her was the High Harper herself, Jaheira. A grand hero of Baldur’s Gate. Tav expected an introduction, or at least some kind of greeting. Instead, she found herself tangled in a large patch of conjured vines. Lunari crouched into a protective stance, her jowls shaking with a low snarl.

“Is this how the High Harper greets her allies?” Tav struggled in vain against the vines. Even if she reached out to them, it was obvious that Jaheira had a much stronger connection to them than she could ever hope to have herself.

“Of course not. I greet my allies with fine wines. But you?” She gave a polite smile as she pulled out a small jar containing a mind flayer tadpole. It started to writhe and pound against the confines of the glass as soon as it came into view of Tav.

“You are no ally. I could smell the foul odors of Grymforge the moment you crossed the moon shield. You should not have come here, True Soul.” Jaheira gave a curt nod to her Harpers who drew their weapons, causing Tav’s companions to do the same.

“I am not…a True Soul…” She grunted as she struggled against the vines threatening to crush her legs.

“What are you doing?!” A young tiefling girl came running up to Jaheira.

Mol? What is she doing here?

“She’s the one who saved us!” Mol recalled the events of the Emerald Grove with Jaheira, assuring her that Tav and her companions were the ones that helped them escape. Tav tore her attention away from the vines and realized how many tiefling faces she recognized around the inn.

“A True Soul with a mind of her own? How is this possible?” Jaheira looked from Tav to each of her companions. Halsin stepped up next to her.

“High Harper Jaheira,” he gave his typical fisted salute with a small bow of his head, “my name is Halsin Silverbough. Until recently, I was Archdruid of the Emerald Grove.” Tav’s head whipped around to look at him. His voice had taken on a commanding tone, one she only heard when he was addressing others as Archdruid. A stab of embarrassment hit her as she tried to hide the blush that this voice brought to her face.

Silverbough?

Jaheira looked him up and down before glancing back at their strange adventuring group.

“Halsin? Master Alwin spoke highly of you. I heard you had taken his place after his untimely death. A shame we must meet under these circumstances.” Jaheira reluctantly dismissed the vines holding Tav in place. She saw a quick flash of grief pass over Halsin’s face.

“He was too kind, I’m sure.” Halsin let out a shaky breath, his tone dropping to a more casual one for just a moment.

“You are infected as well?” She asked, one hand resting on the scimitar at her hip. Right on cue, the tadpole in her hand slowed its writhing when Halsin stepped in front of Tav.

“No, I was studying the tadpoles and had the good fortune to meet the adventurers you see behind me.” He gestured to their traveling party before walking back to place a hand on Tav’s shoulder. “I will gladly vouch for them. They saved my life and stopped a slaughter at the Emerald Grove from the inside and out.”

“Excuse me!” Mol yelled with her hands on her hips. “I already gave my word for her, what? The word of a tiefling not good enough for you?”

Karlach let out a loud laugh at Mol’s outburst. “I like this kid!”

“I appreciate the plethora of associates you have to speak on your behalf. Yet my question still stands,” Jaheira’s hand twitched toward her weapon again, “how is it that an entire group the infected remain in complete control of their minds.”

Tav reached into her bag slowly to produce the artefact. “Because of this.”

She told Jaheira everything she knew about the strange relic, which to be fair, wasn’t much. She also told her of their adventure so far, how they had traveled through Grymforge to reach Moonrise, hoping to infiltrate the cult. The others in the group chimed in every now and then to back up her stories. As they spoke, the mind flayer tadpole in Jaheira’s hand was destroyed.

“Congratulations, you have earned yourself the benefit of the doubt.” The Harpers surrounding them stood down. “We have supplies in the inn should you need them. Come find me as soon as you can, we have much to discuss.”

“Thank you, High Harper.” Tav sighed, relief washing over her after their tense encounter. Before Jaheira turned to walk away, her eyes lingered on the small tattoo of a broken sword on Tav’s throat.

“Please, take a moment to rest. The shadows drain strength from even the strongest soldiers. I will be just inside when you are ready.” Jaheira walked off towards the inn.

Tav could feel the tension in the air slowly dissipate as the uncertainty around their arrival faded. Before she could say anything, Karlach came running up to her, squealing with delight.

“Oh, my gods, soldier. That’s Jaheira. The Jaheira!” She tapped her feet in place as she watched the High Harper walk away. “I mean, you must know how incredible she is if you were a Harper.”

“I actually hadn’t met her until now, but I had heard plenty of stories even before I joined their ranks.”

“Like the Bhaalspawn crisis? I’m sure you know the stories, how she fought Sarevok Anchev in the hidden Bhaal temple beneath the city.” Karlach continued her excited gushing.

“I remember it well, yes. The murders in Bhaal’s name caused chaos in the streets. I vividly recall my mother being so upset with me for sneaking out one night to go to a tavern while the culprits were still on the loose.” Tav smiled fondly at the memory. Tev had helped her climb out of a window so they could go drink and dance in the Lower City.

“Oh, right. Sometimes I forget that you’re old.”

“I’m not old!” Tav laughed. “I happen to be in my elven prime.”

“So, what shall we do next?” Gale had stashed his torch and once again carried the icy quarterstaff he crafted in the Underdark.

“I guess I’ll go check in with Jaheira, see what she knows about Moonrise. I figure we can set up a camp nearby, best to stay close if we have a safe place from the–” Another loud shriek from Karlach cut her off.

“OH MY GODS, IT’S DAMMON!” She pointed to an area that looked like a smithy. Sure enough, Dammon stood over an anvil, hammering away at some piece of armor.

“Let’s go say hi!” Karlach took off before anyone could respond.

Tav waved the others to follow as they ran after her. By the time they caught up, she was jumping up and down with excitement.

“…touch people?!” Karlach shouted at Dammon.

Holy shit, he figured it out?

Tav felt her own excitement grow thinking about it. Had he already found a solution to her engine troubles?

“Exactly!” He smiled back at her briefly before his expression fell again. “But…there’s more you should know…”

“Yeah, yeah. First, let’s get old rusty fixed up a bit more.” She whipped around to face Tav. “Soldier! We have another piece of infernal iron somewhere, right?”

Tav dug through her backpack while Karlach vibrated impatiently next to her with one hand held out.

“Aha!” Tav tossed the metal to her, which she handed off to Dammon.

“Very well.” He turned away for a few minutes while he heated and hammered the metal. Karlach fidgeted next to her, watching him every step of the way. Tears had gathered in her eyes in anticipation of her upgrade.

“Here you go, you’ll have to install it yourself, same as last time.” Karlach pushed aside her clothes to insert the daunting machinery into her chest cavity, paying no mind to modesty as she did so. Gale and Wyll immediately averted their eyes, blushes creeping over their faces at her impromptu undressing.

After some pained grunts and upsetting grinding noises, Karlach fixed her clothing and looked around at her companions.

“Did…did it work?” She gave Dammon a pleading look.

“Only one way t–”

Before Dammon could finish, Tav leaped at Karlach, throwing her arms around her neck. She froze at first, worried that she would still burn Tav’s skin to a crisp. But there was no searing pain, no hiss of burning flesh, just warmth. Just the feeling of finally being able to hug her new friend.

Karlach’s arms shot up to hold Tav in place. They cried together as they swayed back and forth, she refused to let Tav pull away. For just a moment, she forgot all about the curse and mind flayers and the Absolute. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt such a pure joy as she did while hugging Karlach.

“Thank you.” She whispered between her sobs.

“You’re so welcome.” Tav smiled against her shoulder. Their happy cries devolved into uncontrollable laughter.

“Hey soldier?” Karlach sniffled as she kept a tight grip around Tav’s waist.

“Hm?”

“You really need a bath.”

They laughed together again as Karlach finally released her from her grip.

“I’m sure we all need one, love.” Tav wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Alright, look out everyone! Mama K is touching everything!” She let out a cackle as she took a step toward the others.

“Wait, Karlach…” Dammon started. “There’s more you need to know.”

***

Halsin fought back tears as he watched Tav tackle Karlach into a hug. After their conversation yesterday, he had been so worried about her. Seeing her get another upgrade for that infernal engine gave him at least a little bit of hope in these wretched shadows. He hung back a little, letting them have their time together.

Step one, fix my engine. Step two, giant bear hug.

He waited patiently for her to finish talking to Dammon, hoping her offer still stood. But whatever the blacksmith said next smothered the joyous air that had surrounded his companions just a moment ago. Tav looked distraught, Karlach was waving her hands back at Dammon, speaking low enough that he couldn’t quite make out the words. The smile returned to her face not long after, although Tav still looked disappointed.

Karlach started shoving her way through her companions, pulling anyone who would let her into a crushing hug. Astarion was barely able to wiggle away from her grabbing hands. Lae’zel allowed a clasp of her arm, like a warrior’s handshake. Everyone else welcomed the warm embrace. At one point she had Gale, Wyll, and Tav all in a hug at the same time. Halsin shifted his gaze to the dirt beneath him, kicking it into little piles. He felt a stab of disappointment standing over here alone, more likely than not she had forgotten about their conversation, not that he–

“HALSIN!” Karlach’s booming yell caught the attention of everyone around them. “BEAR HUG!”

He couldn’t help the ridiculous smile that spread across his face as she charged toward him, arms open wide. He held his out as well and braced himself just in time for her to slam into his chest, almost knocking some of his teeth out with her horn. She laughed as his arms wrapped tight around her shoulders.

“That’s the stuff.” Karlach sighed as she squeezed him tighter. “It’s nice to hug someone taller than me.”

“A sensation I rarely experience myself.” His smile broadened as she sighed contently against him. Tav was looking at them with a sad smile on her face and looking like she was holding back tears.

“Okay then.” Karlach pulled away from him and scanned the courtyard. “I’m off to shake the hand of every person here who will let me.” She ran off in a flash, barreling around Last Light to find her first target.

Halsin recognized Dammon now, he was one of the refugees at the grove. Looking around him, it seemed their caravan had made its way here. Many of the mischievous children had been running around since they arrived. He scanned the courtyard looking for more familiar faces but finding few.

Perhaps they’re all inside.

“Thank you.” Tav had made her way to his side again.

“Whatever for?” He turned back to her with a smile.

“For speaking up for us. I know you don’t like to throw your title around. Or former title I suppose.”

“Think nothing of it. The Harpers were our allies all those years ago, I presumed Jaheira would honor that agreement.”

“Who was it that Jaheira mentioned? Master Alwin?”

Halsin’s eyes stung once more, but an affectionate smile still took over. Despite the grief thinking of his fallen mentor brought him, he tried to remember him with warmth and fondness.

“He was the Archdruid before me, my teacher, my mentor. Although he was truly more like a father to me.”

She placed a hand on his arm.

“What was he like?”

He hesitated. It had been so long since he had spoken of him. When he first took over the title of Archdruid he spent his first days being compared to his wise and fearless teacher. He found himself walking in his shadow, one so large that Halsin could never hope to stand tall enough to cast one of his own.

“He was an incredible leader. Able to inspire courage in even the frailest of hearts. He believed there was a balance to achieve between us and nature and worked tirelessly to bring it to fruition. Master Alwin was the one who rallied our forces here at Last Light on our last day of battle.” A few tears rolled from his eyes. Until now, he had forgotten how much he missed him.

Would he have found a way to lift the curse sooner? Could he have protected the grove from the influence of the Shadow Druids? Would he have helped the tiefling refugees while keeping the peace with the other druids?

“Halsin?” Tav’s concerned voice pulled him from his spiral.

“Forgive me. It’s been some time since I’ve talked of him with another person. I didn’t quite realize how much I still miss him.”

Tav gave him a knowing look. No doubt she had her brother on her mind. She leaned forward to wrap her arms around his waist, drawing him into a hug. How was it that he felt even warmer holding her against him than Karlach?

“Best not keep Jaheira waiting too long, my friend.” He tried to force himself to pull away from her embrace, but his arms stayed locked in place. It was still another moment before she moved away.

“Care to join me?” She looked up at him to ask.

“I think you should perhaps take a chance to speak with her alone. Harper to Harper.”

“Former Harper.” She sighed.

“I doubt it will make much difference to her.” He let his hands drop from her shoulders.

“Okay then, I’ll go speak with her.” She spun around scanning the area for something, panic rising in her eyes. “Where’s Lunari?”

They found her lying on the ground, tongue happily sticking out to the side as Karlach hugged her and rubbed her belly.

“I suppose I can leave them here for now.” She smiled at the sight, but there was still a sadness clouding her expression that he couldn’t quite place.

“I’ll gather the others once Karlach has finished hugging every living soul in sight.”

“Thanks, love.”

As Tav strode away towards the inn, he couldn’t shake a nagging feeling as he observed the small crowd around him. Many tieflings that had resided at the grove were present, but something was off. They seemed to be almost in mourning. And where was Zevlor? Halsin expected he would have come out to greet their party once he heard of their arrival. He walked over to Wyll and tapped him on the shoulder. “Wyll, I think something might be wrong here.”

[buffetlicious]

A pack of Economy Rice (菜饭) or cai png as we called them in our dialect. On the left is steamed savoury egg custard or steamed beaten eggs with water or soup stock added to give it that silky and melt in the mouth texture. If you don’t know what to choose, curry chicken and curry gravy is the way to go. Lastly, stir-fried okra or lady’s fingers to add in some dietary fibre.

[dearheartdont]

last line meme (sort of!)

Tagged by @dear-monday and @laiqualaurelote. Tagging @crownhimmanycrowns @skinnybritishdudes @micamicster but this is completely optional :)

We've Done No Wrong with Our Blinkers On - Dead Boy Detectives

Squashed up against the bar, he saw a familiar profile: a tall, straight up and down figure with black hair, olive tinted skin. His large, raw-knuckled fingers rested on the bar surface. It was a lad who’d joined Charles’ school about month before. Charles had first noticed him because his shoes were pointed winklepickers, and his coat was black army surplus, covered with band pins Charles didn’t recognise. He didn’t often talk or volunteer answers in class, but when he was nominated to read, his voice was unhurried and deep with a Welsh accent that curled and tipped around the words. A girl in monochrome makeup stood next to him, fishing through her bag. Her hair was backcombed and black. Her eyeliner extended into a spiral at the outer corner of each eye. Charles shouted over, “It’s Dylan isn’t it, from school?”  “It’s pronounced Dull-un, not Di-lan,” the woman said, enunciating like she was talking to a small child. “Sorry,” Charles said. “It’s okay. My sister gets a bee in her bonnet about these things, don’t you, Angharad?” Dylan pronounced her name with an exaggerated accent, slow as his sister had pronounced his.

Bonus WIP

Bloom and Blossom - We Are Lady Parts

When Amina was losing her mind over her mock GCSEs and the predicted grades that weren’t quite good enough, her dad told her, “Nobody’s perfect, not even Noor.” “Especially not Noor,” her mum mumbled. But Noor was perfect. She was. Her hijab never slipped; her shirt buttons never popped open at an inopportune moment. She was never left flame-faced and stuttering by other kids’ bullying. Noor had a waterproof coating that repelled both bullies and stains. Or at least gave her the ability to ignore spotty white boys who sniffed the air around her and asked where the smell of curry was coming from.

[the-desilittle-bird]

Author's Note- This was better in my mind... 🥲

Requests are always open and well appreciated.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

Peculiar Things

Loki Laufeyson x Desi!Reader

Summary- Loki notices weird things about (Y/N)...

Tag List- @savagemickey03, @kenzi-woycehoski, @ultrav0lence, @bbgmonsay, @girlnred, @chevelledahuman, @minaxcarter, @hc-geralt-23, @newt-scamander-is-hot-af, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @lady-athanasia, @hyacinthus007, @lana, @saraelizabeth26, @killing-gremlin, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad, @strangesthirdeye, @omgsuperstarg, @all-things-fandomstuck, @nyx2021, @shine101, @bi2simps, @themaze13

Warnings- None

GIF Credits to @tomhiddleston-gifs

The moon shone brightly in the starry night as the light breeze tickled the green mountains. The lake water stood still with a few swans swimming peacefully, completely unaware of the two laying on the luscious grass.

Loki's emerald like eyes watched (Y/N) with love and adoration, his fingers caressing her hand as her breathing slowed down. The God of Mischief found himself at awe as he watched her sleeping form before looking back at the moon.

He smiled to himself as he remembered (Y/N) watching the moon every night, always humming some song from her native language. Chand. She called it while smiling.

It was later that Loki realized that it was not only her who was awestruck by the moon. It was the entirety of population of India and those with Indian descent; or at least mostly.

Loki turned to face her, smiling widely, as his fingers interlaced with hers. Another peculiar thing about her was the distance she maintained with Loki even after they started courting.

"We don't show off the relationships until... never in public."

She had told Loki, making him frown. Even in Asgard, publicly displayed affections before marriage was frowned upon but after that? Loki would never understand that.

Then there was her unhealthy relation with fried food and sweets. It made him wonder how she remained so fit after having so much amount of oil and sweets. Probably her workout sessions helped.

And oh! The amount of confusing things she would do sometimes. Loki remembered how she had made Steve wait for 3 minutes before getting off the quinjet for a mission just because he had sneezed loudly.

"It's a bad omen."

She had explained later, making everyone raise their eyebrows. The Avengers loved (Y/N) a lot, Loki understood that fact early on when he had attacked New York.

He also loved how she would use her fingers to eat her food. Rice or whatever she has. All of them cooked by herself specially for herself. She never let anyone taste it.

Once Tony had stolen a bit of her rice and fish curry and had ate it without sharing. The spice was enough to make the Stark man run to the nearest tap and drink two gallons of water. It was a funny scene and had entertained everyone while (Y/N) sat in the corner, giving him a I-told-you look.

Another thing was her unholy obsession with those stupid Indian serials and series. Loki unfortunately found the web series originating from India stupid, no offense to them truly. But perhaps it was because of the amount of western series he had seen.

But yet, he loved (Y/N) with all he was. Even if he found her peculiar things comical, it didn't really matter, for his love for (Y/N) was way more than anything.

[tokensofmyconfections]

Hi, my name is Elva and I'm helping my Grandpa run his bakery and sweetshop while my parents work on fixing up the house more.

We are just starting out, so hopefully our shop earns a good reputation for our good food made with the recipes my Grandma gathered in her youth when she went on her Pokémon journey!

Tokens of my Confections menu

Seasonal baked goods 

Herb Loaf

Zucchini Nabab Bread

Orange Blossom Combee Scones

Nomel Streusel Scones

Strawberry Ricotta Muffins

Strawberry Cucumber Bread

Pecha Cobbler Cookies

Mini Chocolate Chip Sandwich Cookies

Nomel Blukberry Whoopie Pies

Nomel Meltaways

S'mookies

Ginger S'mores

Trail Mix Cookie Cups

Rawstberry Ribbons

Sparkle Sweetheart Cookies

Berry-Cream Cookie Snaps

Beach Butter Cookies

Sand Dollar Cookies

Salted Butterscotch & Pecan No-Bakes

Soups (offered during the cold spells during summer)

Mulligatawny Soup

Circhester Hot Pot

Mincemeat

Hairst Bree

Cock-a-Leekie

Wooloo Heid Broth

Drinks

Pecha fizz

Strawberry-ade

Summer Party Punch

Apple Cider (spiced or muled) {apples picked by my grandma with her neighbor’s Appletun, Fritters, help}

Blukberry and Mint Iced Tea

Arnold Palmer Lemonade/Iced Tea

Chai

Apple Cinnamon tea

Herbal tea blend: Summertime Lemonade (lemons and nomel berries as main ingredients)

Herbal tea blend: Floral Sunshine (Lavender, honey, nomel berries, lemons)

Black Cheri Chocolate

Candy

Peanut Butter Fudge Cups

Chocolate Bonbons

Chocolate Fudge

Peppermint Patties

Chocolate-Covered Cheri Berries

Potato Candy (recipe from 1933)

Buckeyes

Chocolate Angel Food Candy

Crispy Peanut Butter Balls

Chocolate Caramels

Swablu Divinity

Angel Food Christmas Candy

Nanab Cream Chocolate Truffles

Pumpkin Fudge

Caramel Truffles

Creamy Caramels

Dark Chocolate Rawstberry Fudge

Orange Gumdrops

Peanut Butter Logs

Lady Fingers

Apple Cider Cookies

Three-Chip Galarian Toffee

Chocolate-Dipped Candy Canes

Curry-Kissed Coconut Fudge

Butter Crunch Candy

[tsukikoayanosuke]

Canned Soup for the Weary Soul - Ruikasa Week 2024

Day 5: Affection

Food is something Rui knows is necessary for living. It is not that Rui has a bad relationship with food; it's just never been his top priority. He knows he's a picky eater. Vegetables never blend well in his tongue. Bless his mother for her many attempts to feed both him and his father. He never thought it was a big deal anyway; he managed to grow every year during his puberty era without the help of those stinky things.

After meeting Tsukasa though, Rui saw how necessary food is.

When a new chef appeared in Rui's usual dinner place, the Weekend Tavern, after his daily job at the dig site, he knew he was to something different. You could say it was love at first sight the moment Tsukasa came out from the kitchen. Or because the smell of the curry struck a core in his stomach. The chef asked a simple question: "Anything from the menu?" And Rui just pointed at the curry dumbly. Tsukasa giggled - a very adorable giggle - and later served him one. It was delicious, better than anything he had ever eaten. Don't get him wrong; he lives his mother's cooking, but something about Tsukasa's food caught him off-guard.

Food is Tsukasa's love language, Rui came to realize. He puts everything his have into his cooking or as Tsukasa has said: "I will cook it to 12,000% satisfaction!" Outside his work as a chef, Tsukasa had seen him buying others' food. Emu and Nene, the pair of adventurers who became close to him, always get a feast every time they finish a commission from the Adventure Guild. The Shinonome siblings, a pair of a royal painter and the prince's knight, never have to share their cheesecake order because Tsukasa always made him two. Even Mafuyu, the noble lady who escaped her household and now living with the music box maker, always gets a dose of caramel apple.

Rui also gets his share of Tsukasa's food. Visiting during the morning would give him a sandwich for lunch (though he always takes out the salad), while dinner always has rice and that day's special. The more Rui ate Tsukasa's food, the bigger the love he felt for Tsukasa. There will be times when Rui would imagine himself living with Tsukasa and waking up with Tsukasa's cooking every day. Oh, how lovely that would be.

He wanted to do something for Tsukasa.

…

But what?

"No, no, no, no!" Mizuki wagging their finger like a scolding mother. "I do not accept chocolate and flowers!" They slammed a hand to the table they were in. "It's too generic! You need to give something special to him!"

"Don't you give Ena that rare paint set?" Rui asked, remembering the time Mizuki was having a meltdown when thinking about a birthday present for the older Shinonome sibling.

"That's because I know she would love it!" Mizuki grinned. "What things does Tsukasa like?"

Rui looked up to the sky, his mind repeating the question. The first thing that came up was cooking. A new knife? A cookbook? Dinner at a fancy restaurant? A gift basket? None of them sound like 'Tsukasa'. Tsukasa is bright and warm and gentle and the gift needs to be perfect for the world's future star. Mind you, Rui is not an idiot; he was the top in his class back then. It's just…he wanted this to be something special. Tsukasa has everything. What else could he give him?

He was so deep in his thought that his feet automatically walked him toward Weekend Tavern when his work was done for the day. He stepped in as the bell by the door jingled, announcing his arrival, followed by-

…

Huh?

Rui finally blinked in realization. The tavern is bustling with people, some regular and new ones. The waiter and owner's daughter, An, was busy serving beer when she finally noticed him. "Heya, Rui. Did you find new artifacts?"

"Yeah…" Rui looked toward the counter. Tsukasa is not by his station and greeting him with his cheerful voice Rui grew to love. "Where is he?"

"Oh," An winched. "Tsukasa isn't doing good."

Rui looked at her with surprise. "What happened?"

"I think he's sick," An answered. "He came here this morning looking so red. Dad told him to go home but he insisted on working. It wasn't until he almost collapsed that we decided to let him off for the day."

Oh. That's right. Rui didn't come to the tavern this morning because he overslept, still thinking about Tsukasa's potential gift. If only he came by, he might even take the day off to help Tsukasa around.

"Thanks, An." Rui nodded. "I'll go and see him."

Just as he was about to leave, An called him. "Rui."

"Yeah?"

There was a flicker of hesitation on An's face but it quickly disappeared, nodding instead. "Please take care of him. He can be very stubborn."

Rui nodded. "Of course."

It didn't take long for Rui to arrive at Tsukasa's house in the upper district. Rui took out his key (Tsukasa gave him a spare for emergency) and unlocked the door. The first thing he noticed was how quiet it was on the inside. The windows are still open, but there's no light shining from the light or candle. The kitchen is empty with the sink being dry, which means Tsukasa hadn't been cooking as well. The piano lid is closed, so Tsukasa didn't play it today. Most of the doors toward the bedrooms are closed except one.

"Tsukasa?" Rui called. No answer. He approached the door and there he was.

Tsukasa looked awful. His bright face is unusually pale with bright red flushed across his cheeks. His hair was disheveled, some strands sticking on his sweaty forehead. He looked so small on his bed being covered with a thick blanket.

Rui's heart clenched. He approached the bed, pressing his hand on Tsukasa's forehead. That woke him up.

"Rui…" Even his voice sounded so hoarse. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. How can I eat if I don't have my favorite chef cooking for me?"

"So demanding…" There was a tiny hint of amusement in his tone which brought relief to Rui.

"Is it bad?"

"I'm fine… I'll be fine by tomorrow. A star chef must never skip a plate."

"I think it would be fine if you skip a day." Rui looked at the nightstand where there was only a single empty glass and no sight of any plate. "Have you eaten yet?"

"I can't get up…my head is killing me."

Rui frowned. That bad, huh? "I'll be back."

"No need…" It was barely above a mumble but Rui nearly missed it. It made Rui pause just for a bit, but he quickly recovered to walk to the kitchen. He might not be as good as Tsukasa with cooking, but he will try his best to at least put something in Tsukasa's stomach.

But the kitchen is empty. There's nothing in the fridge. No meat, no cheese, not even those icky vegetables. Tsukasa is always one to advocate eating healthy yet he doesn't have anything fresh here? Even the cupboard is barely filled. Are you saying that the world's stars don't even have a complete spice rack?

Does…Does Tsukasa even cook at home?

No. That can't be right. Tsukasa always buys fresh ingredients whenever someone is visiting. Rui, Emu, and Nene had helped them cook in this very kitchen for that one sleepover. Where are those foods now? It doesn't make any sense… He had to ask Tsukasa about this once he was well enough. Right now, he had to find something for him to eat.

He reached into the cupboard and took one of the few cans in there. It had the label 'chicken soup' on it. This will do: something easy to swallow and will warm your stomach, perfect for sick people. He opened the can to reveal a less-than-pleasant sight of the concoction. It was at this moment that Rui wished he knew how to properly make simple homecooked meals. He took a pan and poured the soup onto it, heating it up until it barely bubbling. Once it was warm enough, he poured it into the bowl.

A bowl of chicken soup. Chunks of chicken floating on the surface of the steaming broth along with some tiny cuts of celery and carrot in sight.

Rui still wished he could do something more than this.

He walked back to the bedroom where Tsukasa was barely asleep again. He blinked at the sight of Rui, brow furrowed in confusion.

Rui smiled at him. "Hey…"

"You're not out yet…?" Tsukasa asked, sending uneasiness into Rui's chest. He covered it with a joke.

"Such a bad host you are, Tsukasa. Kicking a guest out."

"You have works…"

"That is done for the day." Rui set the bowl at the nightstand and he pulled a stool to sit next to the bed. "I made you this."

The frown on Tsukasa's forehead became more apparent. "Rui… That's not necessary…"

"You haven't eaten anything, right? You can't get well unless you eat healthy food."

"Said the picky eater who can still grow taller."

"It's all genetic." Rui chuckled. "Do you want me to help you with it?"

Tsukasa's eyes became downcast again. "I'm not hungry…"

"Tsukasa, you need to eat something," Rui tried again. "Or else you'll get sick more."

"You shouldn't be here…" Tsukasa mumbled, pulling his blanket to cover his mouth. "You'll catch it too…"

Rui bit the inside of his cheeks. He knows a canned soup is not the best food, but it is something. Tsukasa is never the picky eater so in theory, he shouldn't-

Wait.

"Tsukasa…" Rui leaned closer to him. "Is there something wrong with me cooking for you?"

Tsukasa didn't answer but Rui could see him shifted under the blanket.

Rui took a deep breath and asked again. "Has anyone cooked for you before?"

Tsukasa didn't answer again for a few seconds, but the Rui heard a tiny mumble. "I don't want to be a bother…"

"You're never a bother to anyone." Rui patted the blanket where Tsukasa's shoulder was. "What makes you think that?"

"I just am…"

Oh. Oh, Tsukasa.

Tsukasa is a caring person, there's no doubt about it. But it seemed that care didn't apply to himself. For him, who always cooks with his very best to others, food is not something in the top priority for himself. Rui had his guesses: an empty house and its empty pantry with its only occupant being the son of a merchant couple who barely comes home. Dinner would be so lonely that he never bothered with it.

It broke Rui's heart that Tsukasa takes care of himself less than he takes care of others. Selfless yet selfish at the same time. Food is Tsukasa's love language. But what does it mean if he never indulges in that same delicious food for himself?

Rui pulled the lump of Tsukasa close to him, kissing the top of his head. "You're a wonderful, caring person," he whispered, making sure that he heard it, "and you deserve to be loved."

"Others-"

"You said that to me yourself, didn't you? 'Everyone deserves a warm meal'. Does that include you when you said it?"

He heard him gasp. The blanket got pulled down, revealing a pouty face. "Using my own words against me. You're so cruel."

"It's necessary, isn't it?" Rui smiled. "I'll repeat it every time if I have to." He kissed his forehead. "I love you. Let me take care of you."

Tsukasa didn't answer, eyes shifting to anyone other than Rui. But then he let out a hum. "Okay…"

Rui smiled. Tsukasa didn't stop him from helping him sit up, back leaning against the pillow. Rui scooped a spoonful of the soup, bringing it close to Tsuaksa's mouth. Tsukasa pressed his lips, considering his options once again. But, with a sigh, he opened his mouth, drinking the soup with a loud gulp. Rui scooped another one and Tsukasa drank it as well. It was after a couple of spoons that Tsukasa's eyes started to tear up.

"Is it good?" Rui asked.

"It's good…" Tsukasa sniffled as tears streamed down his cheeks. "It's delicious… So good…"

Rui put down the half-eaten bowl and pulled Tsukasa into a hug, cradling his head as Tsukasa sobbed into his shoulder.

Canned chicken soup is nothing compared to a homemade meal, but for Tsukasa…it is probably the best food he has ever had.

And if this is a way to make Tsukasa feel loved, Rui would give him all the chicken soup in the entire kingdom just for him.

[calenheniel]

WIP preview.

So, I should preface this by saying that this is NOT a continuation of any outstanding fics I've already written, like In Fantasy or Winter's End - this is a new shorter piece I'm working on, four (?) parts planned in total. Since I've been so inactive of late, I wanted to share a draft of the first part with y'all. It's going to be a dark, tragic, R-rated sorta story, A/U, and - of course - centered on Hans x Elsa. No title as of yet, but I'll think of something eventually.

Thanks especially to @nap-hime, whose recent fic it became a nemesis is stirring the old Helsa flames in me!

See more below the line.

»»————-　❈　————-««

I. DAFFODILS

“I’ll have that princess bedded and wedded within a week!”

Hans recognizes Adrian by his boasting, not bothering to look up from the flower bed. Another voice guffaws - probably Lucas, he thinks, from the brassiness of the laughter - but he keeps his gaze fixed on his task as he listens, kneeling in the grass.

“You’re pretty, Adrian, but that’s a stretch⁠—even for you. What makes you think she’d open her legs just like that?”

Lucas snaps his fingers for effect, making Adrian chuckle. “You know the girl’s been cooped up in that castle since her parents died. She’s probably starved for affection.”

“And what about the other one?”

“You mean the disinherited older sister?” Adrian asks, snorting. “What about her?”

“Well, aren’t you curious to know what she looks like?” replies Lucas. “No one’s seen her in years.”

“Yes, I suppose, but she’s merely a curiosity at this point,” dismisses Adrian. “The younger one is the heir apparent. And now that she’s finally started to accept suitors, everyone’s after her. But I intend to be the first one in Arendelle.”

Hans snips with the gardening shears loudly enough to catch their attention, looking nonchalant when they turn to stare at him.

“What are you doing here?” Lucas snaps, glaring. 

Adrian spots the shears and chuckles. “Why, he’s picking flowers,” he sneers. “Hoping to curry the King's favor with a spring bouquet. Isn’t that right, Hans?”

Hans shrugs. “They’re for mother’s grave,” he replies simply, gathering them into a bunch as he stands. “Daffodils were her favorite.”

“Like I care what flowers your whore mother liked,” Lucas spits, scowling. “You can join her under the ground, as far as I’m concerned.”

Hans’s look darkens as Adrian steps between them, tutting. “Now, now, Lucas⁠—that’s not very nice, is it? Even if he is a son of a whore,” he remarks, “he’s still our baby brother.” 

His smile does not reach his eyes. “Now run along, Hans. You needn’t concern yourself with the affairs of your betters.”

Lucas grins. “I think the ladies-in-waiting are missing their favorite doll for tea.”

Hans grips the flowers a little harder, but only for a moment⁠—and then he wears a small, polite smile that makes even Adrian frown as he bows.

“I’ll take my leave then. Be well, brothers.”

Adrian scoffs and Lucas mutters as Hans walks back towards the palace, never looking behind him. 

His smile is frozen in place.

»» —— ««

He slips down into the kitchens with his usual ease, unnoticed by the guards, ignored by the cook and most of the servants. 

They’re used to him, he supposes, or perhaps he just blends into the scenery⁠: another piece of furniture to be occasionally dusted and polished.

He finds his target rummaging through the pantry, and makes his entrance.

“Freja, my dear,” he says from behind her, “you’re just the girl I was looking for.”

The servant turns around with red cheeks that make her pale skin seem to glow in the dim light of the space, her brown eyes wide and flustered as he takes her hand in his and plants a kiss upon it.

“Your Highness!” she exclaims in just above a whisper, glancing over and around him nervously. “It’s almost dinnertime. There’s too many people around⁠—”

He squeezes her hand, making her squeak. “I promise I won’t be long,” he replies, smiling as she fidgets. He withdraws a small silk pouch from the inside of his suit jacket, and places it in her hand. “These are tea leaves from England⁠—Prince Adrian’s favorite. Have Chef Jensen serve it to him at dinner.”

“From England?” she asks, interested. “How did you get it?”

“I have my ways.”

She opens the pouch, sniffing its contents, and frowns. “This doesn’t smell like any tea we’ve made before.”

“It’s a new blend,” he says, closing her fist around the packet. “Named after Charles Grey.”

She blinks, bemused. “Who’s that?”

“The Prime Minister, dear. But that’s beside the point. You can switch out the usual tea with this. Chef Jensen won’t notice.”

Freja bites her lip. “I don’t know about this, Hans⁠—”

He draws the girl in that much closer, holding her hands warmly in his, and she trails off as she melts into the sensation.

It’s too easy, Hans thinks as he watches her face go flush, and her eyes darken with want⁠—but one chuckle from him is enough to bring her back to the present.

“Now be my sweet girl,” he murmurs in a low voice, “and do as I ask. I promise you’ll be well-rewarded for it later.”

She pouts, but eventually manages a smile as she stuffs the pouch in her apron pocket. 

“Fine. But no surprises next time, you hear?”

He nods. “Deal.”

She pauses to look over her shoulder one more time before tiptoeing her way back into the hall, and flashes him a hasty wink before making herself look busy with a pile of plates by the washbasin.

He watches for a while from the shadows, still smiling.

»» —— ««

Tea is served alongside Chef Jensen’s famous apple cake, greeted with applause by Hans’s brothers and their wives. 

“It’s been too long since you’ve made this,” remarks the king as he takes the first bite. “You’ve outdone yourself, Jensen.”

The others at the long table follow his lead, and their chews and groans of pleasure resounding throughout the great hall remind Hans chiefly of a herd of masticating cattle. 

The chef bows, looking pleased, and the king’s steward gestures for the servants to begin pouring the tea.

Adrian is the first to sniff his cup with interest. “What is this, Jensen?” he asks between mouthfuls of cake. “It smells different.”

“Smells the same to me,” says Oskar, another of Hans’s brothers, from across the table. “Some kind of dark tea.”

“Ceylon, to be exact,” Adrian corrects him, sipping the brew and tucking his black hair behind his ears. “But I wouldn’t expect someone with your pedestrian tastes to know the difference.” He blinks as he sets the cup down, ignoring Oskar’s scowl. “This really is something else. Quite lovely, actually.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” grumbles Oskar. “It’s the same damn tea as always.”

“Enough, you two,” barks the king, silencing them. He dismisses the chef from the hall. “It’s unbearable to think we’re all related, sometimes.”

“Well, most of us, anyway,” says Lucas, smirking at Hans; the others chuckle at this, some coughing into the remainder of their wine to hide their amusement.

The king doesn’t spare a glance at his youngest brother, turning his attention instead to Adrian at his side. “Is everything ready for your trip tomorrow?”

The younger man nods, his bright blue eyes blazing with excitement. “Yes. We’re heading out at sunrise.”

“And not a moment too soon,” Harald mutters into his tea, making the brothers on either side of him, Erik and Frederick, chortle.

Adrian shoots them a frown. “Laugh all you want, but soon Arendelle will be swarming with princes from all over Europe. Getting there first is the best chance I⁠—” he pauses, catching the king’s wary eyes on him, and swallows, “⁠—we have to secure it as a permanent ally.”

“What can they even offer us?” scoffs Niels, the second oldest. He shrugs at the king’s dark look. “You know I’ve been against this from the beginning, Magnus. Arendelle is little more than a glorified fishing village with some nice scenery, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Then it’s a good thing this doesn’t concern you,” snaps the king. “What they have now may be of little value, but the potential is great.”

Adrian grins, and clinks his teaspoon against the cup. “Indeed, Your Majesty. Potential that must be tapped.”

The wives all titter with feigned amusement while half their husbands guffaw, and the other half roll their eyes and grumble.

Hans alone neither laughs nor mutters, and when the table grows quiet again, he takes the opportunity to stand and raise his glass to Adrian at the other end.

“To your safe journey,” he says, smiling. “May you sweep Princess Anna off her feet.”

His brothers and their wives look uneasy at his toast, glancing between themselves; but when the king stands, raising his glass, the others follow.

“To Adrian, and his success in Arendelle,” he says.

“To Adrian!” they shout, and finish off their wine.

When they sit down again, their tension is dispelled, and the conversation resumes. Only Adrian remains perturbed by the sudden tribute, eyeing Hans with a wrinkled, irritated brow, and he drinks the rest of his tea more quickly than usual.

The youngest prince pretends not to notice, picking at the rest of his apple cake with practiced calm.

»» —— ««

“I swear it was that blasted tea!” 

Adrian moans in-between heaves, his body weak with nausea as he leans over a vessel hastily provided by a servant in the parlor. His other brothers watch the scene from a distance, murmuring amongst themselves, their expressions torn between pity, amusement, and disgust. 

Hans slips in amongst them from the back, keeping his own face impassive.

The queen sighs, patting her brother-in-law gently. “We all had the same tea, and no one else got sick. Perhaps you just caught something⁠—I hear a spring cold has been going around.”

“Nonsense⁠—” 

The prince’s protest is cut short by another bout of retching, and the queen backs away, holding her handkerchief to her nose. She looks at the king with concern.

“Dear, I don’t think he’ll be able to travel in this shape.”

He frowns down at Adrian, sighing. “No, I don’t think so either. The journey will have to be delayed until he recovers.”

“What!” Adrian cries out, his arms shaking as he grips the sides of the vessel. “You must be joking, Magnus. I must go at sunrise as planned!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the king snaps, watching as his brother writhes with the urge to vomit. “I won’t have you showing up at the princess’s doorstep looking half-dead.”

“Yes,” cracks Harald. “That would defeat the point of the whole enterprise, after all.”

“Quiet, you!” barks Magnus, frowning. He motions to his steward, who quickly jogs up to his side. “Bring Chef Jensen to my study. I want to know if there was something in the food that could’ve resulted in this.”

Adrian pants as the steward rushes out of the room, his gaze traveling up from the Persian rug beneath them until it finds Hans in the crowd of spectators.

“You!” he accuses, pointing a trembling finger at him. “You did something. I know it.”

The others all look between Adrian and Hans quizzically, while the latter demonstrates surprise at the allegation. 

“I⁠—” 

“What utter nonsense,” Magnus interrupts, scowling. “Leave him out of this.”

“But he was listening to us in the garden earlier!” Adrian objects, looking to Lucas for support. “You remember, don’t you? He was spying on us.”

Lucas, on the receiving end of a glare from the king, swallows. “He was just picking flowers, Adrian. You said so yourself.”

“But he⁠—he’s jealous!” Adrian balks, glowering even as he grows more wan. “He’s trying to take the princess for himself!”

“Don’t you hear yourself, man?” the king rebukes, sighing. “What would the princess want to do with him? He’s nothing.”

A grin twists and grows on Lucas’s lips. “He’s right, Adrian. She wouldn’t bother wasting time on the Unlucky Thirteenth.”

The room is filled with laughter at this pronouncement, but all is quiet in Hans’s mind save for the beating of his own heart, a steady thump in the night.

He smiles at the last, if only to himself.

Yes, he thinks, if only there was someone out there who could love me.

[officialleehadan]

Scented Treason

Hello darlings! Today's story was brought to you by Stells! Darling, thank you so much for all your support!

Prompt: Bitter Hospitality

+++

Although Rhyl did not appreciate being treated as a pet, he chose to play the part, and was determined to do it well.

It was to his advantage, after all. If he was a pet, he could not be a target for abuse without the permission of his owner. That too, burned under his skin, but it was acceptable, because it was his decision to play the part. Also, he could admit to himself, because he was nearing the end of his own endurance.

Better to be a pampered pet, to be thought tame and to bide his time until he regained a little of his strength. He was blind, and did not think the king’s mages were careless enough to le t him regain his sight or his claws, but the rest…  a few good meals and sleeping warm made a significant difference in his attitude.

It didn’t hurt that Nikala made absolutely sure to be respectful of him in every moment they were not being observed by the king’s spies.

To that effect, they were in the gardens, in what he thought was a glass house, given the smell of lush plants and the humid warmth on his skin. They were surrounded by ladies of the court, who tittered nervously at his presence. Nikala had provided more clothing for him, silks that would have been too thin if they were not accompanied by a heavy fur cloak that draped almost the way his wings might.

The clothing was decidedly scanty, he noted with some amusement. Clearly decorative. Another offense, but that he agreed to that as well, and did not especially care how he looked to the humans around him. If decorating him like a prized courtesan would help their plans, he would permit it.

And the silks were soft on his bruises, which were healing damnably slowly. He didn’t have the resources to heal quickly anymore. Hopefully heat and food would remedy that.

For now, he was pretending to doze with his head in Nikala’s lap, listening to the chatter of the court ladies around him.

“How did you tame him?” one lady, scented with jasmine, asked Nikala nervously. She was the closest of the ladies, but she smelled nervous. Trying to curry favor with the new royal, no doubt. “The dragon, I mean?”

“How do you tame any wild beast?” Nikala said with biting cruelty, but Rhyl could smell her own impotent fury. She could do nothing but play her role. Any break in character could mean her death, and a return to the snow for Rhyl. For now, she was as trapped as he was. Perhaps more-so. He could at least count on a rescue coming sooner or later, if he did not escape first. “The simplicity of food for good behavior. New clothing. A bath when he showed he was prepared to behave for me. As you see, his loyalty comes cheaply.”

At that, Rhyl did hiss, but it was half-hearted. Nikala only laughed and stroked her fingers through his hair. He hissed again, which made the ladies around them skitter back a few steps, and made Nikala dig her fingers deeper into his hair to rub at his scalp. Pleased enough at the kind touch, and by the associations grooming had for his own people, he huffed a sigh and rumbled a purr in his chest.

He was warm, fed, and comfortable, and now his one ally was allogrooming him. if he wasn’t surrounded by enemies on all sides, he might consider a nap.

“He certainly is a handsome thing,” another woman says. This one smelled of lily of the valley. Poisonous, but sweet. Rhyl kept a closer ear on her than he did on the one who smelled like jasmine. Something about her set his wings up and made him glad he didn’t have his tail just now. It would certainly be lashing, which was no way to play the part of a contented housecat with a favorite person. “Would you lend him to me, bychance?”

Someone else reached for him. Rhyl could feel it in the shifting air and in the smell of perfume suddenly too close. In an instant he sat up, teeth bared and hissing again, this time in sharp warming. His claws and fire might be bound away, but his teeth were still plenty sharp and he was not afraid to bite. The woman gasped and yanked her hand away, but he stayed where he was, growling under his breath.

“He’s rather a one-woman pet,” Nikala said just a little too fast and traced her fingers over his shoulder. He had told her it was the safest place to touch him if he had a startle. He couldn’t easily twist to bite her faster than she could pull away, if his own instincts were too much to restrain. After another moment of growling, just to be clear that no one else was allowed to touch him, he let her pull him back to her side. “And he can hear you, Lady Forana, and he is intelligent enough to understand. What he tolerates from me, he would not accept from anyone else.”

That part was true, at least. Rhyl allowed himself a toothy, hostile smile that made another of the women gasp. There as no fire behind his teeth, but the suggestion of it was clear enough even to these women.

“Something to think on,” a cold female voice came from the door, where Rhyl could smell the cold, snow-scented air from outside. There was a quick rustle of skirts and he felt Nikala stand beside him. he stayed on the floor where he was. He was already kneeling, after all. Besides, he was curious about what the queen, King Miquest’s detested, but honored mate, wanted from any of them. She was as cruel as her husband, in different ways. Rhyl knew better than to seek an ally in her and would warn Nikala about her if she did not know already. “Nikala. You have made remarkable progress with it in so short a time. Tell me, was it truly food and warmth that bought its good behavior so easily?”

“Even a beaten dog will respond to a little sweetness,” Nikala said, cautious and still close enough that Rhyl could feel the brush of her skirts on his bare arm. She was afraid. Good. She should be. This would be her hearth-mother when she wed the wretched prince and was the queen before that. A dangerous enemy, but a worse friend. “What can I do for you, your majesty?”

“I wish to see what tricks your new pet can perform,” the queen said, and rustled about until there was the sound of a chair scraping on the greenhouse’s marble floor. “Go on, girl. Prove that it is tamed. Know that if you fail, I will certainly mention it to my royal husband. After all, we cannot allow any treason under our noses, can we?”

+++

Bitter Hospitality

Spark of Warmth

Warmth Given 

Gifted Away (Subscriber Only!) (New!)

Scented Treason (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[imaginedreamwrite]

Hi! Love the new photos, maybe number 6 with Jake and baby bear home on a sick day, or a pre-heat day just enjoying each other before their alphas come home from work?

With a bin to your left for Kleenex, a bucket behind it for vomit should it rise, and a water bottle with fresh lemon, Jake and yourself were set up for a day at home. Both of you had gotten hit by a particularly bad strain of the flu that hit Omegas harder than alphas, and both of you were down for the count.

“I’ll stay at home and nurse them back to health,” Steve was already hands on beyond what you expected, “I spent my entire childhood and part of my adulthood sick.”

The door creaked open and Steve stepped into the room with a tray in his hands. Even before you looked you could smell the spices and aroma of chicken noodle soup with curry and turmeric. The smell was invigorating and with both of your stomachs growling, Steve had been quick to set the bowls down on the night stand for you.

“Tom & Jerry?” He cocked an eyebrow and sat on the edge of the bed, first reaching for Jake to yank the blanket up his back and then tucked it under your chin. “You ready to eat?”

“Starved,” Jake didn’t move much, but he did rest his chin on your right breast, grinning to himself when you shrieked in surprise as his fingers dug into your side, “baby bear is too.”

“You need more medicine.” Steve’s shirt tightened around his bicep when he turned, reaching for the bottle of orange-gold cough medicine to dole out another dosage.

“Or we could not…?” Jake suggested and sidled further against you, nudging you while he was on his stomach and you were on your back. “We could have something sweet-”

His protest was broken by a nasty cough, gritty and aggravating to his throat. Jake wheezed, he whined and flipped from his stomach to his back to lay beside you as a shiver coursed through him. He was as sick as you, held up by some strain of a cold & fever that didn’t touch the alphas.

“Medicine.” Steve leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and a plastic cup filled to the right dosage held between his thumb and forefinger. “Jake first.”

“Ladies first.” Jake and Steve spoke at the same time, and a grimace had taken hold of Jake’s face before he pulled the cup from Steve’s fingers and tipped it back.

“You’re next, Bear.” Steve was quick to replace the empty cup with another dose, and he watched carefully when you were taking your dose, not willing either of you to miss anything.

“Good.” Steve smiled with pride, then he drew your attention to the soup. “Eat it all, I’ll be back in a while to gather the bowls.”

Even when he was going to make his departure, Steve took the time to kiss you both once before. When he was ready, Steve had left you to your own devices and closed the door softly behind him.