#sword & kettle press

[vc-blackhouse]

We're a tiny independent publishing house for inclusive feminist fantasy & speculative writing, run by editors across the United States. You might know us from our successful crowdfunding campaigns for Bewildered and the Cup & Dagger series. We're publishing our second series of mini-chapbooks: the New Cosmologies series. Across these eleven mini-chapbooks, you’ll read reinterpretations and retellings, original cosmologies and personal mythologies, prose and poetry, beginnings of universes and ends of worlds.

[deehollowaywrites]

She's here! For a Q&A with cover artist Caitlin Cadieux, and an exclusive excerpt, check out Sword and Kettle Press's Patreon. Plus, preorders are officially LIVE!

[thethingaboutnapkinman]

babes u should totally support sword and kettle press. Go check out their latest, farewell neverland!

[bones-ivy-breath]

I wail silently for more

[eroslove88]

Yandere Kazuha Drabble

Warnings: Kidnapping (held hostage in your own home), drugging, somnophilia, noncon, implied virgin Kazuha and breeding kink

Notes: Been having some Kazuha on my feed lately and I had to write for him. Also, if you'd like me to add a "cut" let me know I'm kind lazy rn but if it bothers you don't be shy. :)!

Kazuha feels bad, you were so scared. His sword to your throat and his other hand twisting your arm behind your back. He couldn't help feeling a bit of guilt and pleasure from hearing your small whimpers and sniffles. When you met him he was so upset when you didn't say "your welcome" to his gratitude, you just nodded and practically ran away. So for the following weeks you'd occasionally "accidentally" run into him, but you'd stutter out an apology and huridly walk away before he could answer. He thought it was cute seeing you all flustered and shy.

He lead you back into your house and locked the door and he stared at your trembling form. Your hands wipe the tears from your face as you look at the floor, "P-please" you whisper out, "I-I don't have much-" but he walks forward making you gulp and stop midsentence. His hand cups your cheek and makes you look up, it was the boy from the docks, you avoid eye, "I don't want anything from you" he states wiping your tears away with his thumbs, "Just do as your told and you should be fine" your lips tremble as a sob builds up in your throat, it comes out a bit but your hands clasp over your mouth. You don't want to anger the man, "Hm" a satisfied hum as he let's you go and walks toward your kitchen.

He takes out herbs from his pockets and removes your kettle from its cabinet. You wanna question how he knows it's there but you don't wanna get in more trouble so you stand in the exact spot, frozen by fear. Kazuha starts a tea with the herbs and while he's bending down for cups you decide to run, your room wasn't far and though you're not one for risks- your life wa on the line anyways. As you make a right your left arm hits the wall and you resist the urge to stop. But you're barely half way down the hall when a gust of wind slams you into the wall at the end. You cry out in pain as your ears ring from the impact you have a cut on your forehead and when your hand comes up to press on the wound his foot steps on it pinning it down. It hurt like hell as you look up and fave your captor he seems upset but not in a, "How dare you" way but in a, "You give me no choice" kind of way.

The man slings you over his shoulder as you cry into in back he places you down on a chair in the dining area. A warm cup of tea is waitirfor you, "Drink." he demands pushing the cup closer. You're too busy wiping the tears off your face but he slams his first down on the table, which catches your attention, and though you're crying you nod and grab the warm cup.

You drink a few sips then put your cup down sniffling, "S-sir..." you pause before crying into your hands, "Don't hurt me, m'sorry. I don't know what I d-did wrong" you sounded so pitiful as he points to the cup, "Drink it. All. " he demands grabbing the cup and pushing it into your lips. Submissively you do so, it's hot and it burns your tongue and throat a bit but you tough it out and try to force yourself.

You don't remember anything after that, everything went black soon after you finished your cup. Kazuha however, remembers everything.

He picked you up and tossed you onto the bed and began hungrily taking your clothes off. He left hickeys on your neck and collarbones as his hands fondled your warm boobs. "Mmm, what a pretty girl" he whispers pulling at your soft nubs. His tongue licks between your breast and chills ran down your unconscious spine. You shift in your sleep as he flicks your nips. He watches your face in awe as it contorts when he sucks on your tit. A small moan leaves your lips and he almost looses it, he quickly unbuckled his pants and pushed you into a matingpress position. His spat on your already wet pussy hoping to help it lube things up. Kazuha tries to take it slow, but as soon as his tip enters your warm hole he whimpers and start pounding into you. The bed creaks with each thrust as labored breaths and huffs leave your mouths. A moan escapes him when your pussy clenches around his cock. He wonders if you could sense how good he's making you feel. "Aha~" you cry out and he realizes that nails are digging into the fat on your hips. But he doesn't stop, it turns him on and he picks up the pace, "It's ok sweetie- ah- almost there" he reassures your knocked out form. You cum on his cock and he's still chasing his climax as sweat drips down your faces and tears brim his eyes. A moan of relief leaves his mouth when he cums inside your cunt, he collapses onto your front side and looks at you for a bit, "I still have time" he mumbles wiping his tears of joy. "Gotta make sure you don't leave me" he flips your over onto your stomach and pounds your pussy from behind. He'll make sure you can't walk in the morning, and that his seed finds your sweet unfertilized eggs.

[beauttifullife]

Chapter 21: Three of Swords (Preview)

If someone had told Agatha that at nearly fifty years old, she’d be spending her entire Saturday tangled up in sheets, being thoroughly ravished by a woman sixteen years her junior, she’d have laughed them out of the room—and then probably sued them for defamation later.  

And yet, here she was.  

Face down on forest green silk sheets, her hair and skin damp with sweat, gasping into the fabric, as her legs trembled beneath her as yet another orgasm tore through her, leaving her breathless and spent.  

She felt warm lips press into her shoulder, and then— there it was —the unmistakable smirk against her skin, that fucking smirk that seemed to sear right into her flesh. Rio Vidal was branding her with it, marking her the way a rancher brands their cattle—with an air of quiet, undeniable ownership.  

Then she felt a hand tracing down her spine, each fingertip pressing slowly, deliberately, as if counting every vertebra, moving lower over the curve of her ass and lingering there, before daring to dip further and slide forward. Agatha’s body reacted faster than she thought possible, exhaustion forgotten, as she snapped her hand back, gripping Rio’s wrist firmly.   

And then in one swift, fluid motion, Agatha rolled, flipping Rio onto her back and pinning her there, straddling her with an intensity that left no room for question. The wrist still caught in her hand was pressed firmly above Rio’s head, while Agatha’s other hand wrapped gently around Rio’s neck—a soft but unmistakable warning.  

Rio’s eyes widened in surprise for a fleeting moment before that smirk returned, even deeper than before, as she looked up at Agatha with a glint of satisfaction, clearly savoring this unexpected shift in control.  

“Do you have an off button somewhere?” Agatha growled, her gaze roaming over Rio’s glistening skin, now covered in a constellation of hickeys and marks from Agatha’s own teeth and nails.  

Rio chuckled, a low, throaty sound that Agatha could feel vibrate against her hand.    

“Maybe.  Check between my legs,” Rio murmured, her voice a teasing purr.  

Agatha snorted at that, but that didn’t stop her from increasing the grip on Rio’s wrist and throat slightly, leaning down until their faces were mere inches apart.   

“You’re exhausting, you know that?” Agatha muttered, though the glint in her eyes betrayed her amusement.  

“Pot calling the kettle, dear ,” Rio shot back smoothly, a wicked smile curving on her lips.  

Agatha looked down at her, arching an eyebrow.   

“Rio— dear .  If I don’t get something to eat and drink…” Agatha began, her voice tinged with warning.  

Rio opened her mouth, a glint in her eyes revealing exactly the kind of dirty response she had in mind.   

Agatha clicked her tongue, tightening her grip just enough around Rio’s throat to cut the words off before they could escape.  

“Actual food,” Agatha bit out, her tone sharp but laced with a smirk, before loosening her grip once more, but not letting go.    

Rio’s devilish smirk faded into a reluctant pout, but after a moment, she softened, giving a small nod.  

Agatha started to pull her hand away, but Rio’s fingers caught hers, guiding it back to her throat and pressing it there, her gaze sparking again, like a fire that never really goes out.  

“We’ll be exploring this later, though,” Rio murmured. 

....

[enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog]

Best of Intentions - character building - relationship building - snippet #3 continuation.

******

Thorin huffed a laugh as he wiped the blade of his sword on a moss-covered log. “Is this going to become a habit, You running about and doing the exact opposite of what I tell you to do?”

 

Mistlynn folded her arms over her chest as she bristled at the jab. “Perhaps? Are you going to make it a habit of telling me what to do?”  She forced a close-lipped snarky smile on her face, before turning her back to him and began to walk towards the tree line.

 

She heard Thorin sigh heavily before he began to follow after her. “Be sure to watch you step.” He grumbled as they walked in silence, listening to the still eerily quiet forest for any sign of spiders.

A distant yell echoed through the trees, making them both turn in the direction it came from.

Another yell followed almost immediately, and they both tensed as sounds of another fight echoed through the forest.

 

“Kili.” Thorin breathed out quickly. He looked over at her, his eyes narrowed. “Keep going, don’t stop until you are out of the forest. You will see our horses tied to the tree line. Wait there until we return.”

 

Mistlynn’s jaw dropped as she gave him an incredulous look. “Excuse me? I am going with you! I want to help.”

 

“No. I need you out of harm’s way,” He returned her challenging glare. “This won’t take long.”

 

“I helped you!” Mistlynn gestured sharply in his direction.

 

“Yes, you did, and I am most appreciative but now I need you to go wait by the horses. You have no weapon.”

 

“I made do last time; I will do so again!” She hissed as she stormed off, shooting him one more seething glare before making her way through the dense brush.

 

“Sar em Gabura.” Thorin growled as he shook his head, following close behind her as he glared at the back of her head. “Damn your insufferable pride.”

 

“Pot. Kettle.” Came her flippant reply as she picked up her pace. She jumped off a log, unaware of the snare she tripped when she landed in the underbrush.

 

“Look out!” She heard Thorin shout in alarm as he rushed to her side, attempting to push her to the side. She whirled around, eyes wide as he collided into her.

She felt a rope cinch tightly around their legs, his attempt to pick her up and throw her away not quick enough.

 

A startled yelp escaped her lungs as she felt the ground leave their feet as they were both yanked up into the air with a surprising amount of force.

Her chest crashed into his, their legs both tightly wrapped with a thick rope and bound closely together as they found themselves hanging upside down, a good distance up off the forest floor.

 

Gasping for a solid breath of air, she braced her hands against his chest and tried to push herself away from him. They were pressed solidly against one another, their ankles and calves bound tightly with the thick rope. Her head was directly under his chin, her hair undoubtedly suffocating him.

 

She heard a steady string of blush worthy curses tumble from his lips as they swayed through the air, the branches holding their combined weight as they creaked loudly.  

The cold feeling of absolute horror fizzled through her veins like a lit fuse as she took note of his rapid heartbeat as it pummeled in his chest. She could hear it clearly, his body heat and masculine scent overwhelming her as if it was seeping into her body.

 

Memories of him sparring shirtless flashed through her mind. Her cheeks heated instantly as she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from groaning aloud in sheer embarrassment. Not an inch was spared between them, she felt every single curve of his sculpted torso and legs, the barrier of their clothes doing nothing to disguise it.

 

This was not good. Not at all.

 

“Unbelievable.” She heard him seethe through clenched teeth as he swiped her hair away from his face.

 

She tilted her head back, only to see the ground swaying. She spotted Thorin’s sword upright and fully embedded into the forest floor. She groaned again as their dire situation settled in further. She attempted to twist her body, to see how much range she had in movement.

 

“Stop that.” He hissed. “You will make the ropes tighter. This is an elvish snare.”

 

She made herself look up into his face, meeting his burning gaze instantly. His jaw was clenched as he attempted to take a deep breath in through his nose as if he were in pain.   

 

She gulped, as if trying to swallow her embarrassment. “I am so sorry.” She muttered. “I didn’t even know you could make a snare this big.”

 

Thorin brought a hand up to his eyes and rubbed them. “It’s fine.  I didn’t realize that Tauriel and her scouts had already started to set them.”    

 

She nodded while giving her shoulders a slight shrug. “So…what do we do now?”

 

“I’m thinking.” He grumbled irritably as he leaned his head back to take in their surroundings now that their swinging had lessened. He attempted to shift without disturbing the tight rope around their calves and ankles.

 

Mistlynn bit her bottom lip at his movement, his torso rubbing against hers in a very distracting way. She let her forehead fall against his chest as she tried to coax her body into relaxing so that the raging blush she felt prickling her skin like a wildfire wouldn’t be so obvious to him in this close of proximity.

 

She heard Thorin sigh in resignation as his arm wrapped around her waist. “I apologize, Its starting to get uncomfortable to let them both hang.” He muttered into the top of her head.

 

She nodded again stiffly. “It’s fine.” She huffed into his chest.

 

For Yavanna’s sake, was this punishment?

 

Why did he smell so good? She was practically salivating.

 

The shouts they had heard coming from Fili and Kili had stopped suddenly, making them both crane their necks, straining to look in that direction, desperate for any sign of movement.  The silence made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck as it settled in heavy around them. She felt his fingers tighten their grip slightly as he scanned the forest.

 

“Is there any way we can loosen these ropes?” she whispered, sensing his unease.

 

She heard him growl in frustration. “No. There is a dagger in my boot but with how tight these ropes are I’m not sure I’ll be able to reach it without off the blood flow to our feet.”

 

“Which boot?” she couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice as she tried took down at his feet. Her significantly smaller feet and calves were wedged tightly in-between his.

 

“My right, on the outside.” His voice was rough, unease evident in his tone.

 

She pursed her lips. “I think I can reach it.” She looked up at him, determination flashing in her eyes.

 

His eyes widened as she began to bend her knees, her hands gripping his sides as she began to pull herself towards his legs.

 

“Woah, woah, wait! Hold on!” He stammered rapidly. He dipped is chin to his chest to look at her as she tried to minimize her wiggling down his body as she reached for his boot. She pressed the side of her face to his lower stomach, his belt buckle cold against her cheek as outstretched her hand towards his boot.

 

He groaned in exasperation at the sight. “Will you just?...” His voice trailed off as he felt her move even lower, her fingers grasping firmly against his leg, not quite reaching far enough to grasp the clasped handle.

 

She cursed as her body strained to hold the position. She felt his body tense. “I don’t know if I can reach any farther.” She huffed breathlessly.

 

She felt his lower abs tighten as he began to chuckle, as if in disbelief at their current situation. “You’ve gone this far, why stop there? By all means.”

 

Mistlynn gritted her teeth together as she slowly straightened herself, her fingers digging into his sides to stop the movement from jolting the rope.

 

“You think you could do better? You-you big baby!” She stammered, anger and embarrassment flushing her already red face a lovely shade of scarlet.

 

He glowered at her as he clenched his jaw. “As a matter of fact.” He growled before he bent his knees, his chest brushing her body as he painstakingly pulled himself in the same fashion she did.

 

She gasped in horror as shivers erupted down her body as if she was being struck by lightning. She bit her bottom lip so hard she got a hint of copper on her tongue as he placed the side of his head on her stomach while the other hand gripped the outside of her waist.

 

He let out a shaky breath as he cursed, his fingers brushing the top of the dagger. “I almost got it. As he tried to reach farther, he strained more towards his boot and his hand slid from its grip on her waist to directly under her left butt cheek and back of her thigh.

 

A sound between a gasp and a shriek from the shock of his strong hand gripping her there escaped as if she was being strangled.

Her body jerked in retaliation, jolting his shoulder just as his shaking fingers unclasped the dagger hilt. At her sudden jolt, he fumbled to grasp onto the handle, but it slipped through his fingertips and tumbled towards the ground, burying itself right next to Orcist.

 

The breath rushed out of Thorin’s lungs as he stared dumbly at the dagger that tumbled out of his fingertips. He felt Mistlynn tense against him as a few seconds of exasperated silence fell between them.

 

He breathed in deeply before his body began to shake as he began to chuckle as if in disbelief. “That’s just brilliant.” His chuckled deepened as he slowly straightened his body until he was hanging straight once again.

 

Mistlynn was staring at him with wide eyes, lips pressed into a thin white line as her cheeks still flamed scarlet. “I am so sorry. When your hand slipped…” she took in a deep breath as she tried and failed to reign in her mortification.

 

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands as he shook his head. “Durin’s beard, woman!” his chuckle became strained as he fought to reign in his frustration. “I was trying to get the gods damned dagger, not assault you! I had it in my bleedin hand!”

 

Mistlynn’s mouth fell open in shock at his outburst. “I didn’t do it on purpose! I want out of this infernal snare and as far away from you as soon as possible!” she seethed, glaring at him as she shoved his shoulder for emphasis.

 

“You are by all accounts the most infuriating dam in the existence of all dams since Mahal himself created them!” he shot back as he scowled down at her.

 

“Oh, I’m infuriating? Your head is so far up your royal arse every word that comes out of your mouth is nothing but pure-“ her hands were stiff at her side, balled into trembling fists so that her body was fully pressed against him, only adding more fire to her blazing frustration.

 

“Stop talking.” He hissed.

 

She smacked his shoulder in pure outrage. “Why you-“ She raised her hand to hit him again, but he caught it midair as his other hand clasped down on her mouth. Her eyes blew wide open in righteous indignation as she shrieked against his palm.

 

He grit his teeth as his hand tightened over her mouth. “I. SAID.STOP.TALKING.NOW.” he hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes transfixed on a spot over her head.

 

She stilled instantly, her nostrils flaring as she looked at him in alarm. She watched his throat bob, eyes still fixated on whatever was behind her. “DONT.MOVE.A. MUSCLE.” His voice deepened, quiet yet urgent.

 

Her heart stuttered in her chest when she heard the dreaded clicking of those spiders coming from behind her.

She couldn’t help the shudder that rippled through her spine as her other hand grabbed onto his coat and grasped onto its thick fabric tightly.

 

His eyes were menacing slits as he watched them approach, scurrying upside down along the treetops, making the branches quiver and snap as they moved quickly towards them.

 

The spiders didn’t seem to see them as they moved over them, their clicking and blood curdling hisses making her skin crawl. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she was finally able to see how big they were. They were easily bigger than a full-grown ice bear, as she could no longer deny that she was terrified.

Her heart was racing as she stared at them in horror, there was no way she could take them on with a stick and rock.

 

She felt something brush against her now trembling fist, prompting her gaze to shift from the giant spiders back to Thorin. His eyes had softened slightly as he looked at her, his thumb gently rubbing the skin across her bruised knuckles. “Its okay.” He mouthed. She blinked rapidly, trying to convey that she understood him.

 

The spiders had stopped, almost directly over them as they seemed to scan the forest around them. Mistlynn held her breath as she willed her heart to slow its frantic beat.

Thorin couldn’t help a sneer of pure hatred as he stared at the monstrosities.

 

A loud snap echoed from behind them in the near distance, making the spiders whirl around. One of the spiders legs tangled with the rope that was holding them up, The rope tightened painfully on their legs as they began to spin. A faint whimper escaped her as the muscles in her calves spasmed.

 

Thorin quickly moved his hand from her mouth and hand and wrapped his arms around her in a protective embrace. “Hold on.” He whispered urgently into her hair as she clung to his jacket.

 

As one spider launched itself towards the sound, the other was staring directly at them as they spun.

Its fangs clicked together furiously as it began to slink down a tree that was closer to them, as if trying to determine what was dangling at the end of the rope.

 

A flash of brown dashed between the trees, drawing Thorin’s attention for a split second as he followed it. It was Fili, crouching into a defensive position with both his swords held at the ready. On the other side of him, a faint glimmer reflected off of a broadhead, Kili holding an arrow notched and aiming directly at the spider.

 

“Brace yourself.” Thorin growled into her ear as an arm moved behind her head, the other winding tightly on her lower back, preparing for a quick drop.  The spider hissed as it moved to launch itself at them, but the arrow flew and embedded itself directly In the center of its venom dripping mouth, making it shriek as it lost its grip on the tree. One of its long legs that was still tangled with the snare rope grew taunt as the weight of the falling spider pulled it beyond its weight limit.

 

Mistlynn gasped, her grip on Thorin becoming vice like as she felt them plummet. She heard the loud thud of the spider hitting the ground before the rope grew taut again, jolting them to sudden and painful stop. They had dropped several feet when they lost the one rope.

 

Thorin groaned as the remaining ropes bit into the leather of their boots. He threw his head back, loosening one hand away from Mistlynn’s back as he attempted to reach for Orcist, just mere inches too short from grabbing the hilt.

 

“Hold on!” He heard Fili yell as he fought the still alive spider. The other spider that had run off was scurrying back a terrifying speed, right towards them as they still swung from the rope.

 

Kili released another arrow, embedding it into one of the spiders eyes, making it veer off course and run into a tree.

 

“Thorin!” Dwalin’s voice yelled over the screeching of the spiders. “Catch!”

 

Thorin reached his hand out to catch Orcist as Dwalin tossed it at him. He gripped the hilt and spun it deftly in his hand before twisting his body so that he could slice the rope with its blade. His arms tightened again, covering her head with his arm as they fell.

He extended his arm holding Orcist, curving his shoulders in to absorb as much of the fall with his body. They hit the mossy ground hard and rolled down the slight knoll.

 

Mistlynn was gasping as they came to a stop, finding herself pinned directly underneath him. He pushed himself up onto his elbows on either side of her head. “Are you alright?” He scanned her face quickly, looking for any sign of distress.

 

She nodded her head. “I’m okay.”

 

He nodded, appeased for the moment before he pushed himself up onto his knees and reached back to unravel their legs that were still tightly wrapped with the rope.

He jumped to his feet and pulled her quickly onto hers. “Stay here.” He ordered her firmly before he rushed off to join the others fighting the still rampaging spiders.

 

She watched wide eyed as they fought the two massive creatures. These two were proving harder to kill due to their daunting size. One of the guards got tossed into a tree when one of the spiders spun in retaliation. She winced as the guard crumbled to the ground, knocked unconscious from the impact.

 

A glint from the corner of her eye drew her attention. She looked over and saw Thorin’s boot dagger, still embedded in the moss. Her hand twitched in reflex. She looked back over at the ensuing fight, and she made up her mind. 

One of the spiders was dying, nearly all of its legs severed in the upturned earth while the other, the bigger of the two, was still fighting strong.

 

She was done standing at the sidelines. She was the reason why they were all in this mess. She would not be idle in this fight, She stood fully, ignoring the protests of her sore body and rolled her shoulders and neck.

She let out a steadying breath, calming her nerves before she launched herself into a sprint to grab dagger.

 

The spider reeled back onto its back legs, shrieking in outrage as its front legs flailed, attempting to knock the dwarves over. Dwalin’s spun his axe, clipping one of the bigger legs and severing off a chunk from it.

 

“This bastard is one of the biggest one's I’ve seen!” he grunted as he dodged another jabbing limb.

 

Kili shot another arrow and watched in dismay as it bounced off the spiders abdomen. “I’m almost out of arrows!”  

 

“Aim for its eyes!”  Thorin yelled before he rolled to the side, swinging out and nicking another leg.

 

“Since when do they have this thick of a skin?” Fili growled in exasperation.

 

“Focus on his legs. He can’t fight us with no bloody legs.” The spider squealed with a high pitch that made Thorin grit his teeth as it painfully cut through his eardrums as Orcist sliced one of the big legs clean off, making it lose its balance momentarily before it rose high on its remaining legs.

 

“Bleedin bastard!” Dwalin cursed as he swung his battle axe in preparation for the counterattack. “Now ‘es pissed!”

 

Another one of Kili’s arrows buried itself into one of its eyes, and the spider’s body convulsed with rage before it charged at them.

 

Mistlynn placed the cold metal of the dagger between her teeth as she began to scale the tree, despite the screaming muscles in her arms. The sounds of the bloody battle filled her ears as she glared at the thick branch that seemed to be miles above her.

 

She bit down on the blade as she pushed herself harder as she fought to find purchase on the slick, moss covered bark. She heard a shout of surprise and turned to look over her head to see Kili, who had run out of arrows, go flying into another guard as the spider lashed out viciously.

 

A snarl emitted in her throat as she climbed with a renewed fervor. She finally reached the thick branch and pulled herself up onto it and settled into a balanced crouch. She pulled the dagger from her mouth and held it firmly in her grasp before she began to slink across the branch.

 

She stopped at the midpoint of the branch, just as it began to bend with her weight. She looked down and found herself directly above the unsuspecting spider. Its back of its upper body was hairy yet appeared to be lacking the armor like shell that was making it rather difficult to kill from the ground.

 

Her nostrils flared as she braced herself, her hand clenching the dagger hilt in preparation before she launched herself off the branch and into a lethal freefall.

 

She fell exactly on the upper back of the spider, straddling its body perfectly between her thighs. Before the spider could arch up, she raised the dagger with both hands on the handle before plunging into the soft flesh of the spider.

 

The dwarrow’s mouths fell open in shock as they watched Mistlynn repeatedly plunge the dagger into the body of the spider with a fierce speed. Black blood splattered across her pale skin as the spider shrieked in agony as it convulsed in the beginning of its death throws. Its legs quaked as they collapsed, Mistlynn still stabbing the spider, landing one last death blow right through its head.

 

The spider collapsed instantly, and Mistlynn leaned over the dagger, her hands slick with the black blood as she fought to regain her breath.

 

“Great Yavanna.” One of the guards breathed in shocked awe as Mistlynn raised her head to look at them directly. Her gaze met Thorin’s as the adrenaline began to slow in her veins.

 

“Well, that’s one way to do it.” Fili smirked as Kili began to laugh. “That was insane! What you just did!”

 

Thorin sheathed Orcist and approached her quickly. “Are you alright?” he took in her shaking form as she came down from her fighting high.

 

“Y-yes. I am just tired of these demon spiders.” Her voice cracked as she stood on shaky legs and looked down in disgust at her hands. “Sorry about your dagger.” She muttered, as she looked at the unrecognizable head of the spider where the dagger was still lodged.

 

Dwalin approached as Thorin wretched the dagger out of the spider. “Bah, it will clean up nicely.”  His bushy eyebrows were raised as he appraised Mistlynn with a new level of respect. “Ye started this day off on my bad side but I think I can let that go after watchin that.”

 

Mistlynn tried to hide her grimace as she shifted her weight so that she could remove herself off the spiders back. “What a relief. Would hate to think I did all of that for nothing.”

 

“You dont seem alright.” Thorin accused as he watched her sluggish movements.

 

“You aren’t exactly a lightweight.” She joked, but she realized quickly it was the wrong thing to say as she watched his eyes widen in alarm.

 

He reached for her, but she batted his hand away. “I am joking. I am fine! Just give me a second to recuperate, yeah?”

 

“That reminds me, how did you both wind up in that snare?” Kili gave Thorin and Mistlynn a mischievous smirk as he began to pull his arrows out of the spider’s carcass.

 

Mistlynn groaned as Thorin shot Kili a warning look.

 

Fili huffed out a laugh. “I got to admit, that was the last thing I ever expected to see was the two of you hanging by your feet surrounded by spiders.”

 

Dwalin gave Thorin a sidelong look, while the dwarf king tried his hardest to avoid his friends questioning gaze.

 

“I stepped into it when I heard you guys yelling like a bunch of ninnies. He tried to pull me out of it but it caught him too. There? Satisfied?” Mistlynn set her hands defensively on her hips as she looked at both Fili and Kili before shooting a challenging look at each guard before settling on Dwalin.

 

“Now can we please leave this god’s forsaken forest?”  she could see they were all fighting to contain their smirks and laughter in the face of her irritation.

 

Only Thorin was looking at her with something akin to concern. Her stomach twisted at the thought. She couldn’t handle any more of this, she had to get away from him as soon as possible before she said or did anything else that would give away any glimpse of the turmoil she was dealing with inside. It was bad enough that he had seen her at her absolute worst after she lost his coronation present in the spider infested woods.

************

Taglist:

@fizzyxcustard @mrsdurin @lathalea @exhausted-humxn-being @dustie-faerie

[little-desi-historian]

A listing of 18th Century slang compiled by Leon Bienkowski and posted to the Revlist in 11 installments–last posting in June, 2000

A listing of 18th Century slang compiled by Leon Bienkowski and posted to the Revlist in 11 installments–last posting in June, 2000:

“The terms listed below were mostly gleaned from Partridge’s Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English. There is a bit of a nautical bent to this list because of my own peculiar specialty, but there should be plenty of amusing and useful terms for everyone.

Your underly industrious servant,

Lee Bienkowski”

A

Abbess - a woman who is a brothel keeper

Abraham-sham - a feigned illness

Academician - a whore

Cast up one's accounts - to vomit

Admiral of the Blue - a publican

Admiral of the Narrow Seas - a drunk who vomits into a neighbor's lap

Adrift - discharged

Adzooks! - an expletive

Air and exercise - a flogging at the cart's tail

Akerman's hotel - Newgate prison

All Nations - a mixture of drinks from unfinished bottles

Amen-curler - a parish clerk

Amidships - the belly

Anatomy - a very skinny person

Bring one's ass to an anchor - sit down

Anne's fan - thumbing one's nose

Talk like an apothecary - talk nonsense

Apple-dumpling shop - a woman's bosom

Hang an arse - to hold back

Arse upward - in good luck

Ask bogy - an evasive reply

Avast! - Stop!

B

Not to know B from a bull's foot - to be ignorant

Bacon-faced - full-faced

Bacon-fed - fat and greasy

Empty the bag - to tell everything

Heavy baggage - women and children

Bagpipe - a long-winded talker

Bailed man - a man who has bribed the press gang for immunity

Baked – exhausted

Banbury story – nonsense

Bark at the moon - to agitate uselessly

Barnacles – spectacles

Barrel fever - ill health caused by excessive drinking

To grin like a basket of chips - to grin broadly

Bear - a very gruff person

Beer-garden jaw - rough or vulgar language

Bring to one's bearings - cause to see reason

Drink like a beast - to drink only when thirsty

Beau-Nasty - finely dressed but dirty

To go up a ladder to bed - to be hanged

Beef-head – idiot

Beggar-maker - a publican

Belly-gut - greedy, lazy person

Bender - a sixpence

Bird-spit - a small sword

Bit of red - a soldier

Black arse - a kettle

Black cattle - a parson

Give a bottle a black eye - empty a bottle

Blashy - rainy weather

Blood and 'ounds! - an exclamation

Blue as a razor - extremely blue

Blue stocking - a learned woman

Blue tape – gin

Shift one's bob - to move or go away

Bog orange - a potato

To marry old boots - to marry another man's mistress

Bosom friend - a body louse

To have some guts in one's brains - to be knowledgeable

Brandy-face - a drunkard

Brattery - a nursery

In bad bread - in a disagreeable situation

Break-teeth words - words hard to pronounce

Gold bridge - an easy and attractive means of escape

To be stabbed with a Bridgeport dagger - to be hanged

Broganeer - one with a strong Irish accent

Brown cow - a barrel of beer

Brown George - ship's biscuit

Buck fitch - an old lecher

Like bull beef - big and grim

Bull calf - a big clumsy fellow

Bull's eye - a crown piece (5 shillings)

Bung one's eye - drink heartily

Bung upwards - on his face

Butter-bag - a Dutchman

Buttock-ball - a dance attended by prostitutes

C

Calfskin fiddle - a drum

Cant a slug into your breadroom! - have a drink!

Caper - to be hanged

Captain Copperthorn's crew - all officers

Captain Grand - a haughty blustering man

Captain Tom - leader of a mob

Cat-sticks - thin legs

Caterpillar - a soldier

Caulker - a dram

Chalk - to strike someone's face

Chatter-broth – tea

Christened by a baker – freckled

Cinder-garbler - a female servant

Cite stage - the gallows

A house of civil reception - a brothel

Clapper-claw - to thrash someone soundly

Clicker - one who shares out the booty

Closh - Dutch sailors

Coach wheel - a crown piece

Cock and pie! - a mild oath

Coffee-house - a water-closet

Cold cook - an undertaker

Comb-brush - a lady's maid

Comb one's head - to scold

House of commons - a privy

Condiddle - to steal

Conveyancer - a thief

Cool crape - a shroud

Corinth - a brothel

Make a great harvest of a little corn - much ado about nothing

Corporation - a large belly

Cotswold lion - a sheep

Country-put - a silly rube

Covent Garden ague – VD

Crab lanthorn - a peevish fellow

Crinkums – VD

Crown-office - the head

Cucumber - a tailor

Cut throat - a dark lantern

Swear like a cutter - swear violently

D

The dam of that was a whisker - a great lie

Dangle in the sheriff's picture-frame - to be hanged

Dasher - showy harlot

Drunk as Davy's sow - very drunk

Deadly nevergreen - the gallows

The devil among the tailors - a row or disturbance

Devil-drawer - a bad artist

The Devil may dance in his pocket - he is penniless

Diddle – gin

Gone to the Diet of Worms - be dead and buried

Dilly - a coach

Dog Booby - an awkward lout

Enough to make a dog laugh - very funny

Dog-vane - a cockade

Dog's portion - a lick and a smell

Dog's soup – water

Go dot and carry - a person with a wooden leg

Double Cape Horn - be cuckolded

Roby Douglas with one eye and a stinking breath - the breech

Draggle-tail - a nasty, dirty slut

Draws straws - to feel sleepy

Drury Lane vestal - a whore

Duke of limbs - a tall awkward fellow

Dull-swift - a stupid fellow

Die dunghill - die cowardly

Drunk as an emperor - regally drunk

Dustman - a dead man

Dutch concert - everyone plays or sings a different tune

Dutch feast - the host gets drunk before the guests

E

Earwig - a malicious flatterer

Ensign-bearer - a drunkard

Eternity box - a coffin

Expended – killed

To have fallen down and trodden upon one's eye - to have a black eye

F

Hove no-one's face but one's own - to be penniless

Facer - a glass full to the brim

Make faces - to beget children

Faggot - a man hired to appear on a muster-roll

Fallen away from a horse load to a cart load - to become fat

Fantastically dressed - very shabby

Fegary - a prank

Fiddler's money - all small change

Fiddlestick's end – nothing

Finger-post - a clergyman

Fire a gun - introduce a subject unskillfully

To have been fed with a fire shovel - to have a big mouth

Fish-broth - salt water

Flag of defiance - a drunken roisterer

Flag of distress - the cockade of a half-pay officer

Flap with a fox tail - a rude dismissal

Flapdragon – VD

Flash the gentleman - pretend to be a gentleman

Flash it away - show off

Flats and sharps – weapons

Flawed – drunk

Flay the fox – vomit

Flump - an abrupt or heavy fall

Fly in a tar box - nervously excited

Foreman of the jury - one who monopolizes a conversation

Foul a plate - dine with someone

Frenchified - infected with VD

Frig-pig - a fussy trifler

Froglander - a Dutchman

Full as a goat - very drunk

Fustilugs - a dirty slattern

G

Gallied - hurried, vexed or over-fatigued

Gallows – enormous

Game pullet - a young whore

Gammon – nonsense

Gardy-loo - Look out! (Garde l’eau)

Gaskins - wide breaches

Gentleman in red - a soldier

Gentleman's companion - a louse

Melancholy as a gib cat – dispirited

Give one's head for washing - to submit to be imposed upon

Glass-eyes - person wearing spectacles

Glorious - ecstatically drunk

Glue-pot - a parson

God permit - a stage coach

Golden grease - a bribe

To find fault with a fat goose - grumble without cause

Play old gooseberry - play the devil

Gospel-shop - a church

Gotch-gutted - pot-bellied

Grapple-the-rails – whiskey

Green-bag - a lawyer

Greenwich goose - a Greenwich Hospital pensioner

The cat's uncle gringog - a grinning idiot

Groggified – tipsy

Ride grub - ill-tempered

Guinea-gold – dependable

In the gun – tipsy

Gundiguts - a fat pursy fellow

Gut-foundered - extremely hungry

H

Half an ounce - a half crown

Half seas over - half drunk

Hand like a foot - clumsy handwriting

Hang-gallows look - a villainous appearance

Hanktelo - a fool

Swallow a hare - to get exceedingly drunk

Under hatches – dead

Young hemp - a graceless boy

Hempen bridle - a ship's rigging

Hen-frigate - a ship bossed by the captain's wife

Herring-gutted - tall and very thin

To be on the high ropes - be very angry

Study the history of the four kings - to play cards

Old hock - stale beer

Hog in armor - a finely dressed lout

To drive one's hogs to market - to snore

Holiday - a spot left unpainted

It's all honey or all turd with them - they're either friends or bitter enemies

Off the hooks – peevish

Hopper-arsed - large bottomed

Send for a horse ladder - send on a fool's errand

Horse's meal - food without drink

I

Irish apricot - a potato

Irrigate - take a drink

Itchland – Scotland

J

Jack Adams - a fool

Jack in an office - an imperious petty official

Jack of legs - an unusually tall person

Jack Weight - a fat man

Jakes - a privy

Jaw-me-down - a very talkative fellow

Die like Jenkin's hen - die unmarried (Scottish)

Have been to Jericho - be tipsy

Jerrymumble - to shake

Going to Jerusalem - to be drunk

Jimmy Round - a Frenchman (from Je me rends)

Be laid up in Job's dock - be treated in hospital for VD

You are Josephus Rex - you're joking

K

Kerry security - breath the oath and keep the money

Kicksees – breeches

Kill-devil – rum

One of King John's men - a small man

Clip the King's English - to be drunk

Knob - an officer

Knock-down - strong liquor

L

Laced mutton - a whore

Ship the white lapel - be promoted from the ranks

Lazy as the tinker who laid down his budget to fart - very lazy

Cut one's leg - become drunk

Lay one's legs upon one's neck - run away

Lie with a latchet - tell a great lie

Light-timbered – weak

A line of the old author - a dram of brandy

Little house - a privy

Live lumber - passengers in a ship

Live stock - body vermin

Looking glass - a chamber pot

Lotman - a pirate

Louse-land – Scotland

Lumping pennyworth - a great bargain

M

Mab - to dress carelessly

Mag – chatter

Maltoot - a sailor

Man-a-hanging - a person in difficulties

Married to Brown Bess - enlisted in the army

Mauled - exceedingly drunk

Make mice-feet of - destroy utterly (Scottish)

Milk the pigeon - attempt the impossible

Load of mischief - a wife

Who put that monkey on horseback without tying his tail? - a very bad horseman

Monkey's allowance - more rough treatment than money

Mopus - a dull, stupid person

Morris - to decamp

Mourning shirt - a dirty shirt

Look like God's revenge against murder - look very angry

N

Eat one's nails - do something foolish

Navel-tied - to be inseparable

Born on Newgate steps - of criminal extraction

Nip-cheese - a purser

Dead as a nit - quite dead

Make a bridge of someone's nose - pass the bottle past someone

He numbers the waves - he's wasting time

O

Oaken towel - a cudgel

Give one his oatmeal - to punish

Off the hooks – crazy

Old Robin - an experienced person

Open lower-deckers - to use foul language

Overshoes, over boots – completely

Take the owl - become angry

P

Paddy-whack - an Irishman

Cut's one's painter - send a person away

Palette - a hand

Paper-skull - a fool

Parleyvoo - the French language

Parson Palmer - one who slows passing the bottle by talking

Make a pease-kill - to squander lavishly (Scottish)

Penny lattice-house - a low ale-house

To drop off the perch - to die

Peter-gunner - a bad shot

Peter Lug - one who drinks slowly

Pintle-merchant - a whore

Piper's wife - a whore

Tune one's pipes - begin to cry

Piss more than one drinks - said of a braggart

Pitt's picture - a bricked up window

When the plate-fleet comes in - when I get my fortune

Plump currant - in good health

Pontius Pilate - a pawn broker

Popper - a pistol

Prattle-broth – tea

Princod - a plump, round person (Scottish)

Alter the property - disguise oneself

Prow - a bumpkin

Public ledger - a whore

Pudding-bellied - very fat

Pump ship – urinate

Punch-house - a brothel

R

Rabbit hunting with a dead ferret - a pointless undertaking

Rag-water - bad booze

Rammaged - tipsy (Scottish)

Rapping – perjury

Red-letter man - a Catholic

Remedy-critch - chamber pot

Repository – a jail

Rib-roast - to thrash

Ride as if fetching the midwife - to go in haste

Ride the forehorse - to be early

Cry roast meat - boast of one's good fortune

Roast-meat clothes - holiday clothes

Rocked in a stone kitchen - a little weak-minded

Rogue in spirit - a distiller

Royal image - a coin

Rum gagger - one who tells false sea stories of hardship

Loose in one's rump – wanton

Rusty guts - a blunt, surly fellow

Buy the sack - become tipsy

S

Saddle the wrong horse - lay blame on the wrong person

Saddle one's nose - wear spectacles

Salamugundy - a cook

Salt eel - a thrashing with a rope's end

Sandy - a Scotsman

Sauce – VD

Sawney - a Scotsman

Sawny - to whine

Scald - infect with VD

Scandal-broth – tea

Scarlet horse - a hired horse

School of Venus - a brothel

Scotch casement - a pillory

Sea-crab - a sailor

Sea-lawyer - a shark

Settler - a parting drink

Shab-rag - very worn

Shake a cloth in the wind - be hanged

To have been dipped in the Shannon - to be very forward

Shapes - a name given an ill-made man

Keep sheep by moonlight - hang in chains

Sheep's head - a very talkative person

Shifting ballast - soldiers aboard ship

Shiners – money

Make children's shoes - to be occupied with trivia

Shreds - a tailor

Shut-up house - land headquarters of a press gang

Sick of the idles - a very lazy person

Silver-cooped - deserting for the merchant service

Sky-blue – gin

Snabbled - killed in battle

Smart as a carrot - very smartly dressed

Go a snail's gallop - move very slowly

Soldier's bottle - a large bottle

Solo player - a very bad musician

Sot-weed – tobacco

The Sovereign's parade - the quarterdeck of a man-of-war

Spanish trumpeter -a braying donkey

Spoil pudding - a long-winded preacher

Squire of the placket - a pimp

Stiff-rump - a haughty person

Take a stink for a nosegay - be very gullible

Stoupe - to give up

Strip-me-naked – gin

Sunburnt - having many children

Surly boots - a grumpy person

Surveyor of the highway - a reeling drunk

In deadly suspense – hanged

Keep a swannery - to boast

Purser's swipes - small beer

Swizzle – liquor

T

Tallow-breeched - having a large bottom

Tears of tankard - liquor stains on a waistcoat

Tea-voider - a chamberpot

Thornback - an old maid

Three skips of a louse - worth little or nothing

Tickle-pitcher - a drinking buddy

Tiff - thin or inferior liquor

Tilly-tally – nonsense

Tilter - a small sword

Swill like a tinker - drink immoderately

Make dead men chew tobacco - keep a false muster

Tol-lol - pretty good

Tongue enough for two sets of teeth - a very talkative person

Blast your toplights! - Blast your eyes!

Topping man - a rich man

Pay one's debts with the topsail - run off to sea leaving unpaid debts

Tripes and trillabubs - nickname for a fat man

Trunkmaker-like - more noise than work

U

Untwisted – ruined

The Urinal of the Planets – Ireland

V

Vaulting school - a brothel

W, X, Y, Z

As wise as Waltham's calf - very foolish

Wamble - an uneasiness in the stomach

War-caperer - a privateer

Water bewitched - weak beer

Water in one's shoes - a source of annoyance

You have been to an Irish wedding - you have a black eye

Whigland – Scotland

Whisk - an impertinent fellow

Whister-clister - a cuff on the ear

Whither-go-ye - a wife

Wife in water colors - a mistress

Windy – conceited

Wrapt in warm flannel – drunk

Yea-and-Nay man - a Quaker

Znees - frost

Source. Further reading. regency. hardcover edition.

[albatris]

find the word tag!

thank you @illarian-rambling for tagging me in my favourite tag :3

my words are animal, ocean, pick and wall

ANIMAL

"Hey, Nat, where do you get your blood from?" She carried on without waiting for a reply. "I get mine from a slaughterhouse out in the country. Whole place run by vampires. Pretty neat business, super friendly. Do you want me to hook you up?"

Nat’s face scrunched up before he thought to stop it, and he was glad Riley was focused on the TV. "I couldn’t do that. I’m a vegetarian."

"Oh, dude, are you?" Riley said. "That’s fucking unfortunate. Vegetarian vampire. Oof. You squeamish about blood, then?"

Nat hadn’t considered this. "I’m… squeamish about animal blood. As long as I don’t drink animal blood I’m still a vegetarian."

"People don’t count?"

"Nah, I don’t think people count."

"Right on, dude." Riley skewered several aliens on her sword. "You’re so weird."

Nat filled the kettle and put it on.

"Animal blood isn’t as nice as human blood, anyway, hey?" Riley said. "But you’re not, like, killing someone every time you need a meal, right? Right? Nat?"

"No! Of course not!” Nat said. “I have a friend helping me out." A friend whose texts you’re ignoring.

OCEAN

Cypress Heights was one of those suburbs. Filled to bursting point with sprawling botanic gardens and multi-storey houses and boutique stores where everything cost more than Nat’s entire payslip. The streets were gorgeous and the schools were posh, but in the nice way. The way that spat out prim, proper kids born of opportunity, who always made a good impression on everyone and had articles written about them in newspapers. Darwelaide teen’s unconventional new method of cleaning oceans proves most effective world has ever seen!

Not to say all Cypress Heights kids were insanely successful, and not to say all Nats and Lyras were not. But if you scooped up a bucket of Cypress Heights kids and a bucket of Nats and Lyras and compared them as a whole, you could sure see the difference.

PICK

A pulse picked up pace somewhere ahead of him, hammering frantically out of time with his own, as his prey realised the position it was in. Nat started down the hall, footsteps light and springing and utterly soundless. He could hear it all, feel it all, in the vibrations through the building, in the air—the shuffling of a moving body, the swish of clothing in motion, the fearful, rapid press of shoes across tile. His throat ached. His mouth watered. The Garble pushed through his veins, tripped all the right wires in his head, sent pulsating, twitching, radiating warmth through every inch of his body. Rewarding him for the good job he was doing. Urging him to continue.

This was what he was built for. This was the most natural thing in the universe.

Nat broke into a run.

WALL

“Make yourself comfortable!” they said, and headed for the staircase at the far room. “I’ll be back in just a tick—I’m going to put your clothes in the wash.”

“Okay,” Nat said, distracted.

He supposed this was a living room. It looked more like a museum than a house, with its curling arched ceilings and marble floors. A twisting abstract sculpture stood by a set of double swing doors leading out of the room: shimmering blue and green glass, folded over itself like a ribbon, reaching up towards the roof. Abstract paintings loomed on every wall, confusing splashes of colour and shape, including one Nat thought looked rather like a dog chewing on the leg of a chair. Up a short step and to the right of the living room lay a lush dining room, with a marble table to match the floors. The table runner was strewn with candles and flower petals. Soft. Delicate. Nat already felt out of place here, like a scab that had started to itch.

I'm gonna tag @chauceryfairytales @tracle0 and anyone who can see a CAT right now :3

for the words storm, bite, bring and settle!

[hauntinghyrule]

Perhaps #2 from the hurt/comfort list, with Red and Blue? 🤎🤎🤎

2 - "Drink some of this tea, it will warm you up."

Affection prompts || Hurt/Comfort prompts

-----

In all the excitement of reuniting, it had been easy to miss, but Blue was still shivering even minutes later. Even after the little fairy had spirited them away to a warmer part of Hyrule.

Red frowned, watching him: walking with his head down, shoulders tense, arms crossed firmly over his chest, but even that wasn't enough to hide the shivering.

"Wait, Blue—"

"What." Blue snapped, and Red could see the moment he winced to himself at the harshness in his own tone.

Maybe that stint in the ice really did chill his hot head a bit, Red thought, and then immediately regretted his word choice as another bout of shivers wracked Blue's body.

Red pressed his lips together, eyes narrowed in thought. "I'm sorry I lost my sword," he said, and watched Blue blink in surprise at that turn of the conversation.

"It... probably wasn't... entirely your fault," he allowed.

"Still. All I've got now is this new weapon I don't know how to use," Red said, giving the Fire Rod a little demonstrative twirl. A couple sparks flared to life and he almost dropped it in surprise. It wasn't — entirely — for show. "I think we should stop and make camp while I practice with it. Right now, if we get attacked by monsters, I might be more danger to us than to them."

"That... might be a good idea." Blue eyed the Fire Rod warily.

"Great!" Red smiled and clapped his hands. "That looks like a good spot for a campsite over there, you go sit down and I'll collect some wood to start a fire. For practice."

The fact that Blue did as he was told without argument was probably further proof that this was absolutely necessary.

Red gathered firewood as quickly as he could. The Fire Rod made quick work of the dry wood, and soon they had a roaring campfire going.

Red very politely made no comment on how relieved Blue seemed to be to huddle next to it.

"I could still use more practice, though." Red pretended to think about it for a moment, before brightening. "I think my pack was the one with the kettle in it. I could make tea!"

He started digging through his bag — and if he happened to toss a blanket at Blue in the process, it was only because it had been on top of everything else and he needed to get it out of the way. Eventually he found what he was looking for, and set about learning to use the Fire Rod to boil water.

A little while later, he passed a warm mug to Blue. "Here, drink some of this tea," he said. It will warm you up, he didn't say. He didn't have to. They both knew what he meant.

[vc-blackhouse]

On the ninth night of breath, Lilith unbinds a knife from the blackcurrant curls of her hair.

[earthlybodystudio]

Howdy, I'm Kay!

Nice to be back, Tumblr! I'm a game designer, poet, and indie publisher. I love exploring the mundanity and the magic of the everyday, and my work creates spaces for resting, reflecting, and connecting.

You might know me as the creator of Your Friend in Witchcraft, an epistolary RPG that just successfully funded on Kickstarter! Create characters, build worlds, and exchange handwritten letters in this creative storytelling game for two players.

Or maybe you've seen one of my small games:

As the World Falls Down, a 5-minute solo game inspired by Labyrinth

Morning Walk, a whimsical one-page adventure inspired by the series of random encounters that is walking my dog

& WITH MY ANGER I WILL GROW, a celebration of trans rage

On the indie publishing side, you might know me as the founding editor of Sword & Kettle Press and our literary journal Corvid Queen! We publish inclusive, queer, & feminist fantasy, fairy tales, and speculative writing.

You can see more of my work on my website or itch.io page!

Tumblr was the very first social media platform I ever used, and although I've gotten myself off the others, I do miss seeing rad art and connecting with folks, so here I am again! I'll be posting about my games, sharing other indie games I love, and tbh, probably reblogging a lot of Baldur's Gate fanart.

[necrophcge]

@zcrayas // x

It had been some time indeed since a tarnished had gotten more than a few terrified swings of their sword or loosed poorly aimed arrows at him before meeting a gruesome end. To not only anticipate the arrival of a Recusant, but bait her own trap for him alongside two of her fellows... vexing, infuriating to say the least. Perhaps the rumors were true, and those said to be gathering in Limgrave were truly possessing in warrior's blood, for the quarry of this most recent hunt had proved to be a far fiercer creature even after her companions had been felled.

He Who Meddles can think of no other explanation as the gaping wound upon his side openly weeps, viridescent blood dripping steadily through the clawed digits of one hand as the other three struggle to drag him forward through the darkness of the tunnel. His abdomen twitches and heaves beneath the growing exhaustion, air drawn in and out noisily as he shoulders into one of the walls of stone with an unpleasant scraping of chitin and claws. Gathering himself, gnashing fangs and mandibles against the growing darkness at the edges of his sight, he pushes himself off and stumbles forwards. Passing out here, in the warmth of the manor's hidden alcoves, would only leave him weakened and vulnerable to the other denizens of the volcano...

To say nothing of Tanith, who wouldn't be pleased to be kept waiting once she realized he'd returned without informing her of his success.

Sanctuary was within reach, however. As the tunnel came at last to an end and the faint glimmering light of candles illuminated one of the manor's empty halls, He Who Meddles allowed himself to relax ever so much. Pressing and prying with what arms he could spare, the stone gave way enough for him to writhe through before resealing the entrance back into the illusion of smooth stone. How grateful he was that so late into the evening all the manor was asleep rather than witness to his current state of being.

At least until he tasted the scent upon the air.

A man-serpent? Here? His mandibles gnashed together, pressing close against his face even as he hissed lowly, the noise comparable to that of a boiling kettle as his many-eyes flitted for the source of heat and scales and sharp-fang... before settling on a girl, half-hidden behind a door and wielding only a candle and a shaking voice against him. Chitin rustling uneasily, claws flexing and curling, He Who Meddles regards her warily even as she speaks, mind attempting to draw some sort of sense from whatever he's seeing here. A man-serpent, but a girl? In the manor?

It comes to him then, cleaving through the fog of pain and exhaustion and frankly growing hunger. This must be her, then-- the one who was not to know anything of what occurred deeper into the Serpent's lair. "... you must be the Lady Rya." He Who Meddles clamps down fiercely on the urge to simply disappear and let his wounds remove him from this encounter, instead dipping his head slightly. Tanith seemed to like that, perhaps her "daughter" would as well? "I... apologize. It wasn't my intent to frighten you."

[adrift-in-thyme]

Hiya Trin! I’d love the commentary on this bit from your one whumptober fic :D It hurts so much, Time’s rambling is just. hhhhhh. much ow.

As gently as possible he pushes Time back onto the log, even as the older hero tries to wrench himself out of his grip. Twilight can feel the panic building steadily within him like water boiling in a kettle. If he can just get him to settle down before it grows out of control…

“You can’t–” The old man gasps, breathless and trembling. “Twi..Twilight…I have to…No!”

Abruptly, he reels back. Before Twilight can react, a fist collides with his face. The rancher stumbles. His grasp slips. With surprising speed, Time lunges for his sword.

“Ganondorf is coming!”

The fear is blatantly visible on his face now, terror audible in his voice. Twilight freezes, hand stopping halfway through its journey to touch his newly bruised cheek.

He’s not the only one with the arm strength of a moblin, apparently.

“Sweet Ordona…”

Time whirls and the rancher is forced to leap out of the way of his sword’s reach.

“Have to get the sages, have to save Zelda…” He takes a stumbling step forward. A particularly violent shudder races through him and the weapon slips from his grip to land with a dull thump on the earthen ground. “Get to the castle….can’t lose this time–all going to die…what a terrible fate…”

Twilight ducks down and snatches Time’s claymore before he can reach for it again. At that moment, Wild scrambles up to his side.

“Here!” He grabs the sword and presses a potion into Twilight’s hands instead. “Lemme get this out of reach and I’ll come help you hold him down.”

Twilight nods. He clenches his hand around the bottle, forcing an inhale through his nose. Time’s words have cut him straight to the core and left him winded and shaky. Never before has he seen the old man this vulnerable, this scared. It just isn’t right, to see his mentor gaze at him like a child seeking refuge from the monsters that stalk the night.

…a child with the world on his small shoulders.

“Time.” His voice trembles the slightest bit and he clears his throat. “I need you to trust me.”

Time freezes before him, teeth chattering, breath coming on haggard half-gasps. He crosses his arms tightly over his chest.

“N-no.” He shakes his head. “Only have three days. The clock resets — e-everything’s over. Have to sta…start again and I can’t… please don’t make me.”

He’s speaking pure nonsense now — at least Twilight desperately hopes that’s what this is — but it’s enough to shatter his heart. What nightmares has the hero endured to inspire a plea like this? What secrets haunt him?

…what regrets?

Ooh I had a lot of fun writing that part lol

So this fic — and this snippet — came out of a mixture of my combined mission to write what I want to read (which in this case was a Time sickfic XD) and to allow Time to be vulnerable. Because while none of the boys are particularly great at being vulnerable I feel like he’s one of the worst (in part because he kinda becomes their unofficial leader/parental figure leaving him no choice but to be strong). And what better way to get a guy to open up about all that juicy trauma than to give him a dangerously high fever? XD And if I could throw in some angst with Twilight (who I’ve realized during a recent reread doesn’t actually know much of Time’s backstory) learning in the worst way some of the stuff his mentor has endured? Even better.

So Twilight is thrown into this situation that no one wants to be in — seeing the terribly human weakness in someone they look up to. And I wanted him to see all of that weakness. I tend to forget how traumatizing OoT was for Time because Majora’s Mask’s creepy vibes made the haunting moments of that journey more prominent for me. But I made a point to make myself remember that here (hence the stuff about Ganondorf, the sages, and Zelda). Plus, at this point I headcanon that Time knows at least a little about the Downfall timeline and his fate in it. So, he references that too (saying that he can’t lose this time).

Basically, Time feels like a kid again. He’s scared, he thinks the sky’s gonna fall at any moment. But so does Twilight. Because here’s two extremes: the hero who soldiered on all day and the broken man who is still trying to save everyone despite being dangerously sick. It’s terrifying tbh. Plus this dude just punched him and he isn’t even sure what to think about that (besides OUCH and RUDE lol).

And Wild’s thrown through a loop too. He’s not as close to Time as Twilight is but they definitely are close. And he’s seeing some of himself in Time rn. He knows what it’s like to have your worst memories come back at the worst times. Which is why he immediately wants to jump in and help Twilight (he also feels bad his brother got punched lol).

Basically a bad time (hehe) for all

And Twilight’s definitely gonna have some questions for Time after this. He may not ask them outright (he doesn’t want to pry). But he always wondered what caused Time to become the Hero’s Shade and now he’s thinking…is all this crazy, nonsense-sounding stuff what basically tied him to this plane of existence? He needs some answers

I feel like I’m rambling so I’m gonna stop now lol but thanks!! <33

[dude1818]

Magical Revolution ep 2 was cute. I love how hard Anis was coming onto Euphyllia, only for it to be a heartfelt desire for an assistant and hype woman (”I’m stealing you away for myself! ... as my assistant”, “I want you to discover love ... for magicology”). Except she’s also unabashedly just trying to get laid, but trust her, that doesn’t take away from how good an assistant Euphyllia would actually be XD

The glimpse into the laboratory was interesting. The broom and energy sword from ep 1 made perfect sense in the setting, but Anis has a whole stash of very specific modern technology that’s instead powered by spirits. Compare with Kamigawa: Neon Dynasty, where it started as a world filled with magic and Shinto-style spirits, and then figured out how that would develop into modern and near-future levels of technology. The functions are the same, but the shape language is very much driven by how magitech would develop

MagiRevo is a comedy, so it starts from the other side: here’s modern items, how do we change them under the hood to run off magic. I realize that’s kinda what’s happening in the story, too, but there’s a level of commitment to the bit that’s implausible. The thermal pot is sensible; a tea kettle is already as functional as it can be. But a hair dryer, phonograph, or coffee press have so many externalities into why they’re built like that which don’t exist in this world!

[augment-techs]

“Ever used a bow and arrow?” Kim + Either Bulk or Zack or Skull or Stan or Billy or Trini :D

Knives, swords, javelin, shotput, pistols, glass bottles, tea kettle filled to the brim and hot to the touch. Soap bars stuffed in a long stocking, bobby pins, morningstar, frayed electric chords, a fountain pen, chopsticks held lofty and loose. Kim felt almost dressed down as Skull clapped on chalk dust, took up the crossbow, and then the longbow, and last the recurve bow; each arrow hitting true dead-center. When each target was struck, the sound was so visceral that Trini, Zack, and Bulk flinched a little, but never closed their eyes or looked away from the introduction. Scorpina looked disconcerting in her intrigue as Skull finished putting away the last of the weapons back on their shelves and in holding, wiping his face free of the minor sweat he'd worked up after five hours training the sentries and this whole showcase of illustrating to Kimberly that, yes, he could go through an introductory to weapons. He could also teach the classes on them if the need arose and she wasn't available while doing her Queenly duties. The ruler of the world glanced up into the upper theater, faces of teenagers and young adults watching the show blinking at her and then all scattering back to their duties as she cleared her throat and tried not to feel a little bit jealous. She had been under mind control and been made to hone a very particular set of skills out on the field and under Drakkon's orders. The bow, hand to hand, speed, agility, knife fighting in close quarters; these were all things that she could wipe the floor with when pressed--she hadn't lost in years and the skills had followed her into her waking life. But she was suddenly aware, watching Skull clean up, put his jacket back on, and give a little wave to the lot of them as he made his way out to head to the kitchens and make himself something to eat before doing...whatever it was he did when not working... She was aware that she would have to up her game, learn more, train more. (Skull had never backed her up into a corner, angry and wrathful and really feeling that PTSD like Jason. Had never surrounded her on all sides, staring at her like a human stain, or a rabid animal in confined quarters like Zack, Trini, and the other Coinless. He had never held a gun up to defend himself from her while she was under a spell of obedience because he wasn't even twenty and didn't want her to kill him and a lot of injured civilians like Bulk had in the beginning of the end of all the things they knew. He wasn't like Scorpina, who challenged her and trained with her, and constantly said and did things to remind her that she couldn't slack off, had to be prepared for a knife to her back or a bullet ready to make its way through her ear if the chance was presented to her enemies. Skull had welcomed her back politely and with honesty in his eyes that told her he was glad she was safe. But he was also scary. And if she thought about it too hard, paired up everything she knew about him with the stuff that the Coinless Generals knew and the sentries didn't talk about, then she would have to address that dread in her stomach that reminded her how much people changed. Tommy Oliver had seemed a nice enough fellow before he stepped over to the dark side and become a dictator that imparted genocide on a whim. She wouldn't care to venture a guess at what Skull would do in the name of survival.)