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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

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Do you do poly ships? :0 if not feel free to do these two characters separately lol May I get some hcs of Zhongli and Venti on a picnic date with the reader? Just a quiet day in the sun where the Archons can relax for a moment and watch the world go by :D (if you wanna insert some angst maybe they suddenly realize this moment is fleeting bc reader is mortal and won't be with them forever?? Up to you lol 👀) thank you in advance!!!

I actually don't :D kidding ahahah

What I meant to say was that I haven't wrote anything related to poly relationship before so this a cool, first experience for me! And like the dumbass that I am, I took on this request and butchered the heck outta it. Welcome to "A Day In The Life Loving Two Broke Gods"-

Rendezvous with the Gods

Picnic Scenario with Poly!Venti, Zhongli, and You

Background!

It's pretty WACK how you got two of the seven archons to be interested in you in a romantic level.

But I can imagine that the thing that attracted them the most to you is your sense of humanity. As ex-archons, what they needed now is a sense of normalcy and a grasp on reality, and with your knowledge and presence they've come to realize the ways of the mortals fairly easily.

But like, you got the two oldest archons in existence. Even the Traveler is in disbelief at this turn of events.

I think you somehow ended up in this situation when the two of them had a reunion after their retirement, and the conversation went like this: "Have you heard of the fair maiden, (Y/N)? Their existence greatly reminds me of Celestia!" "I had the honor of meeting them yes, how tantalizing they are, even the slightest sight of them invigorates me through the whole day."

They'd shower you with praises among one another, and you're forced to sneeze for an hour straight somewhere in Teyvat.

Preparation!

*wheeze*

First thing I thought was "How probable is it that Venti drinks Dandelion Wine at 4 in the afternoon?"

The answer is yes.

You three have planned this picnic days ahead, maybe even a week. As all of you have your own work and errands to deal with, probably not Venti tho, a gathering of this magnitude that requires you three to be present for hours are not as common as you'd think.

First order of business: location! The most obvious answer would have been Starsnatch Cliff, Windrise or even Dihua Marsh.

While thinking, Venti and Zhongli ended up sharing a look, and suddenly the location was settled.

No, you don't know where it is, and they tell you that they'll handle it.

You don't have to worry.

You are very worried.

Next, the food! Being in a relationship with two broke Gods made you the alpha in terms of Mora, and on this occasion, you're once again forced to put your foot down and provide.

With that in mind, both of them could only offer a guilty smile and a nervous laugh.

The outcome of your meal depends on your cooking skills really: if you're good or decent, what a heart-warming picnic that would be.

They must have tasted your cooking before so they would ask for requests on your delicious home cooking —

something light that goes with tea, said Zhongli.

something meaty and heavy to pair with wine, said Venti.

It's a wonder how you deal with these two together.

If you're absolutely terrible at cooking, like Suspicious Dish™ rating, you're gonna have to rely on your Mora to get takeout for this date.

Everything else you've pretty much wrapped up quickly, all you have to do now is wait.

Picnic Time!

Venti was the one to pick you up from your housing to guide you to the location, greeting you with a chaste kiss on the cheek before aiming for the picnic basket hanging by your elbow.

You don't let him; he might eat it on the way there honestly

Cute boy is practically shaking with excitement as he hauls you up over a cliff face and carefully nyoom! over the sea

Where is he taking you?

You didn't dwell much longer when you saw a small island in the distance, a rock formation by the edge and most notably, you're tall lover standing next to an elegant patterned brown and gold blanket placed over the sea of flora.

Welcome to Heart Island!

Very cheesy

The Geo archon greets you with a kiss on the hand before being tackled to the ground by a buzzing Venti.

How that was physically possible was beyond you-

You set up and laid down all the food you got for today's picnic: Fresh apples, 'Breakfast' Sandwich, Chicken and Mushroom Skewers!

You've also noticed a picnic basket to the side that wasn't yours. Noticing your stare, Zhongli pulled out his contributions: Mora Meat, a pitcher of Iced Tea, and a bowl of Mushroom Stew.

Out of nowhere, Venti manifests his own offerings to the table: Apples, Dandelion Wine and Mondstadt Hash Browns.

You have no idea how these two managed to prepare or afford such meals but you appreciate it nonetheless.

They had the whole week to save up Mora just for this picnic, how cute aww

The first to take a bite is Venti, defo. You and Zhongli would be prepping the utensils while the Anemo boy sneaks some food into his mouth, even if you smack his hand multiple times, he's not gonna relent.

A lot of catching up happens in this picnic: your wild commissions, Venti's recent performances, Zhongli's uh consultant stuff.

These are the rare moments where Zhongli isn't the one filling up the conversation more, satisfied with hearing the voices of his lovers and listening to their joys or woes.

The whole picnic is accompanied by Venti's lyre, strumming softly, unrelenting, to make sure all of you are enjoying the serenity of the island.

You and Zhongli take turns spoon feeding him cuz he just won't stop PLAYING

Zhongli made the Iced Tea

Very refreshing, right amount of sweet, would honestly be a good alternative for Venti's alcoholism

Speaking of, he's tipsy now

He's on a full-blown performance now, serenading and urging you two into a dance after eating "to digest the food faster"

Not really believable but you danced anyways.

Zhongli would decline first as he starts cleaning up

But give him a little more nudge, pull on his hand, he'll crave eventually

Rex Lapis is actually a pretty decent dancer

HAVE YOU SEEN HOW GRACEFUL HE DROP KICKS HIS SPEAR

Such a relaxing day off the three of you deserve

By the time the sun already dipped the horizon and you guys still had time to spare, you and Venti would be dozing off on the blanket while leaving the few remaining clean up to Zhongli. It was a tiring yet enjoyable day that's deserving of a nice and dreamy nap.

"Morax..." He'd hear an uncharacteristically somber voice as he makes his way over to where you both lay. Your back resting on the Anemo archon's chest as he spoons you. His teal eyes stare unmoving at your open palm of which the Geo archon takes into his as he sits down.

Little cuts litter your rough hands, from your adventures, some fresh from today to prepare your dishes. How frail and sensitive mortal hands are.

"I'll miss them, so so much." Venti confessed as his grip around you tightens, free-flowing tears erupt from his eyes that are unfocused, as if he was years away with that thousand yards stare that the other God had familiarized himself with.

For the second time in his whole lifetime, Rex Lapis found himself at a loss for words.

------

"Ohhh, a luxurious chest! What's it doing so far out here?" The Traveler lets the floating companion ramble as they pull the chest open, excited for the new artifacts they'll come by.

A teal goblet with gold accents worn out through the years from disuse as parts of its paint are chipped off as gray splotches, laid perfectly in the middle of a brown wool blanket with intricate gold and silver geometric patterns. On each side lays an Anemoculus and Geoculus, softly glowing yet dimming in pulses.

They pick it up with utmost care for safe-keeping, to ask for their archon friends in the future. Who knows, it might be the closure they needed.

This took some time and a lot of pondering wow! This is even more chaotic than the Albedo one ahahah I've made myself sad just thinking about this— anyways thank you so much for requesting and your lovely support! Please let our archon bbs be happy ywy

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starlightrows · 3 years

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2 — The Bounty Hunter

The Queen of Tatooine Masterlist

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Pairing: Boba Fett x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Brief description of injury

Summary: A change in the weather brings back a familiar face

Warm summer nights fade into crisp autumn days. You spend your days tending the garden behind your inn, working to make sure you have enough dried and canned goods for the coming winter, providing room and board for whoever happens to pass through and can pay for it, the shadow cat that likes to hang around your property has a litter of kittens. And you continue to think about Boba Fett, the supposedly fearsome bounty hunter with a kind smile.

You often find yourself wondering if he will come back. Perhaps he would come in later in the season, when the snows have fallen and clung to the trees, when a good fire in the hearth and a bowl of hot stew is all a person craves in the world. You could provide those things. You would be happy with those eyes again, glinting in the fire light while he speaks of far off places and grand adventures.

You have to snap yourself out of these thoughts, focusing your attention back on wet stone sharpening your kitchen knives. Most who pass through your door do not return. Either bounties who are caught are brought to their justice or travelers choose not to venture out so far again. Occasionally you get bounty hunters who return to catch new bounties trying to disappear into the mountains or large game hunters returning each autumn- just passing through on their way further up into the mountains where the herds of black ram and lone bears roam freely.

You do not actually expect to see Boba Fett again, and when you do it is nothing like you’d imagined in your head. A storm is brewing, not yet cold enough to bring snow, but rain, freezing rain that will flood the streets and drown out your remaining autumn plants before the first frost comes. That’s when there is a pounding on the front door in the middle of the night. No one is staying at the inn tonight… perhaps a traveler has gotten in much later than they intended… you get up and throw on a house coat… making sure to have your old hunting blaster in hand, just in case.

When you unbolt the door the howling winds try to slam it back shut, a dark figure slumps against the frame. Not a comforting sight.

“Who are you? What do you want?” you call out to the figure, trying with all your might to keep the door from whipping open all the way. The figure does not answer or perhaps they can’t hear you against the wind whistling through the trees.

Whoever they are, they’re taking too long and you’re freezing. With one hand you reach out and tug on their cloak, dragging them inside and slamming the door shut behind them. They slump back against the door, and you can hear their ragged breathing.

“There aren’t many I turn away from my inn, even when there isn’t a storm raging” I say “But if you intend to stay you’ll need to remove your hood and show some credits”

“I have credits on my ship” comes the deep rolling voice… you know that voice. Without thinking you reach out and pull back their hood. Revealing the same hard lines in his face, and those kind dark eyes. Boba Fett.

“It’s you!” You gasp “You came back”

“Wanted to see you again… and… I need your help” he grits out, wincing in pain.

“What happened?” You guide him by the arm to sit at one of the dining room tables

“Blaster bolt to the side” he groans “It’s mostly fine, just need somewhere safe to lay low for a day or two”

“Will they be coming after you?” You ask bringing him a pitcher of water

“Can’t, they’re dead” he answers, accepting the water and gulping it down thirstily. Well at least you won’t have to worry about others trying to break down the door coming after him.

“Let me take a look at that” you say indicating his wound

“Suppose someone needs to” he grunts getting up from the table. He winces when he steps, and you fall in to catch him before he lists over to the side.

“Come on, there aren’t too many stairs” you manage to get out, as you help him towards the old wooden staircase.

It’s a struggle to get him up the stairs and into the first guest room. He’s a lot weaker than he’s letting on, a good chance he’s more injured as well. You get him to lay back on the bed, and he groans.

You sit beside him and reach for the hem of his tunic and give it a gentle pull “May I?” He nods. Removing the tunic is less difficult than you imagined it would be, it’s shredded from the blaster bolt.

The wound is ugly… and you shudder just looking at it. But it’s not as bad as you were afraid it might be.

“I’m going to wash it out and wrap it with a bacta salve. A few days rest and a hot meal and you’ll be alright” You go to get up and start getting the items you’ll need together to clear out the wound, but before you can turn away he catches your wrist in a gentle hold

“Thank you” he says softly. You smile, and gently pull away.

It takes some time to actually clean out the wound, it’s painful for him and he strains to not howl with the wind as you work to clean it out. Finally you get him bandaged up, and wipe your hands on a dry cloth.

“That should do it” you say wiping your brow with the back of your hand “Please rest, and call out if you need anything”

In the morning you bring up a tray laden with tea, toast, and warm oatmeal with dried fruit and honey. To your surprise he’s up and out of bed, looking at his injury in the small mirror on the wall.

“Good morning” you say, setting the tray down on the bed… which you’re even more surprised to see is fully made. “I don’t normally do room service, but for the injured I make an exception… though you could fool me right now”

He turns to look at you “Wouldn’t even consider myself injured anymore” he says, showing you the scar left by the blaster bolt. He sits on the bed and invites you to join him. You hesitate for a moment… there’s a lot you need to get done today, and you don’t make a habit of spending time alone with your patrons. But he’s been kind thus far, and to be honest you could use the company. So you sit next to him and pour him a cup of tea.

“So tell me, what happened that you landed up on my doorstep last night?”

“I’ve been tracking down something that once belonged to me. Something that is very dear to me” he explains

“Am I allowed to ask what it is?” You smile accepting the second cup of tea he’s poured you.

“My armor” he states

“Your armor?” You’re a bit confused “How did you lose it?”

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?” He sets down his cup. You shake your head.

“No offense… but you’re just another bounty hunter to pass through my door” you admit “Well, that’s not entirely true. You’re the only bounty hunter I’ve ever undressed and stitched up”

He studies your face, and sees that you are genuine… you’re confident and self assured but there is an innocence about you. He can’t help feeling drawn to you.

“About 5 years ago, I was thrown into a sarlacc pit on Tatooine and left to die” he explains carefully “I can’t explain why I am alive today. Fate let me live. But I lost my armor, and my former position”

You nod, and listen carefully… Sarlacc’s are native to Tatooine. His… position… “You worked for the Hutt’s” you say

His heart drops, he’s disappointed you. But he won’t lie. He nods “Does that scare you?”

“That depends” you say scooting back from him. Not to get away but so you can square your shoulders and look him in the eye “Do you still condone the use of slaves?”

“No” he says quickly “I never did. It was always my intention to get close to Jabba and his most trusted advisors and usurp him. End the use of slaves. Clean up his drug trafficking. And rule over the great dune sea”

He takes your hand and squeezes it. “That is still my intention” he says “but I need my armor to do it”

“I hear Bib Fortuna rules the great dune sea now” you say “a weakling and a coward… I have no doubt you will make a better leader”

“I’ll miss your little corner of the galaxy” he says “if I asked you to visit, would you consider it?”

“Maybe. I don’t own a ship. Don’t even have a speeder. Might take me a long time to get the credits to make the trip all the way out to Tatooine” you say “but then again, if you are king of Tatooine, I can hardly refuse an invitation”

He smirks at that, “I will come back for you, Princess. I want you to visit me on Tatooine”

You shake your head, if he does successfully overthrow Fortuna, he will have his hands full ruling and dismantling the institutions he already described. He will likely forget about you, and your inn at the edge of the galaxy.

“Find your armor Boba Fett, and claim your empire” you smile “Then com me someday so I can proudly say I served tea for Boba Fett before he was king”

“You have my word Princess” he chuckles

He leaves that afternoon, with a bag you prepared for him containing home baked bread and cured meat. He promises you again that he will come back for you, and while you appreciate the thought, you won’t hold it against him if you never see him again.

Tag List: @cannedsoupsucks @otterly-fey

#Boba Fett #Boba Fett x reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #The Queen of Tatooine #QT

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adultswim2021 · 3 years

Text

Ephemera Week (2002)

Mission Hill (originally aired on WB, 1999-2000)

Mission Hill was a perfectly good animated series from former Simpsons show-runners Bill Oakley and Josh Weinstein. It was a sitcom about cool young people in a cool young people city. Andy French is an aspiring cartoonist, intended to be a Matt Groening type who would (over the course of many many seasons) eventually find success and get his own super-successful animated series called THE SIMPSONS: SEASONS 1-8.

The premise of the show was that Andy’s parents retire and sell the childhood home, displacing his nerdy high-school aged younger brother Kevin. Kevin moves in with Andy and learns how to be a cool city style guy, you know, the kind that’s always “walkin here!” and sucking off Bob Balaban in the men’s room and whatnot.

The show is at least better than the bad seasons of the Simpsons, and has a cool alt-comics style that suits the show really well. Not to damn it with faint praise, it’s a good show. There are a handful of GREAT episodes and plenty of strong jokes. There's news of a revival in the works focusing on Gus and Wally, the older gay couple in the show. It's supposed to take place in the same era the show originally aired in, which is just great.

Like Baby Blues and Home Movies before it, I did catch this show randomly on it's network of origin. I saw one or two of the final episodes to air on WB. I liked it! I was glad to see it get revived for a run on Adult Swim. I've wanted more episodes ever since.

I don't think the show is available for streaming anywhere, which is too bad. It came out on DVD with special features. That DVD set was reissued on DVD-R without special features, so... buyer? be wary. There's also a number of music replacements that ruin some of the scenes. At one point I had a bootleg set where somebody took the DVD video and replaced the audio with the as-broadcast version of of the show. Good luck finding it.

Here's an episode guide showing their debuts on Adult Swim. Bold episodes were originally unaired, making their debut on the channel. Also note: episodes had an innocuous title and a spicier in-house title in parentheses. It’s real Police Squad! shit.

12AM Monday Morning:

May 20: Pilot (or The Douchebag Aspect) May 27: Andy Joins the PTA (or Great Sexpectations) June 3: Kevin's Problem (or Porno for Pyro) June 10: Andy vs. The Real World (or The Big-Ass Viacom Lawsuit) June 17: Andy and Kevin Make a Friend (or One Bang for Two Brothers) June 24: Andy Gets a Promotion (or How to Get Head in Business Without Really Trying) July 1: Kevin vs. the SAT (or Nocturnal Admissions) July 8: Unemployment Part 1 (or Brother's Big Boner) July 15: Unemployment Part 2 (or Theory of the Leisure Ass) July 22: Kevin Finds Love (or Hot for Weirdie) July 29: Stories of Hope and Forgiveness (or Day of the Jackass)

11PM Sunday Night:

August 4: Happy Birthday, Kevin (or Happy Birthday, Douchebag) August 11: Plan 9 from Mission Hill (or I Married a Gay Man from Outer Space)

ALSO NOTE: There are about five episodes that were in early-stages of production and if you poke around you can find scripts for these episodes ( here as of this writing). A full animatic and table read for “Crap Gets In Your Eyes” exists if you search for it.

MAIL BAG

London Arbuckle ASKS! or, states! sorry I’m writing this lead-in without having read the whole message yet.

Another confusing Baffler Meal thing: the deleted cold open that's on the DVD. It gets called back to in the actual episode ("Between two steamed buns", "Nine dollars!? For what?") and provides crucial context, BUT it also gets contradicted in the actual episode (SG sells out for "one serious speaker" instead of owing a restaurant money). Also I remember all the ads for this episode used a clip from the cold open! It always kinda bothered me that they cut it but boys (matt & dave) will be boys!

I do think the cold open is nice and I always make a point to watch it with the episode. In my mind they are as essential as watching that boring Terry Gilliam short before Meaning of Life. The next step is pointlessly editing them together using Nero. Yeah, that’s the ticket

Here’s ANONYMOUS, baby!

It's summertime and we are talking about Adult Swim and I gotta ask when's the last time you've been to a pool. Have you ever in your adult life enjoyed the benefits of an adult swim. Tell us just how much you like splash around. Yes, that would be quite illuminating I'm sure (rolleyes).

Man, when was the last time I went into a pool? It’s been literally years. I think the last time I swam I did a bad job. I am definitely am getting “bad job” vibes off my hazy memories. Man, my memories used to be precious. Damn!

do you think theyll ever work with george lowe again in any major capacity or do you think he's just bad news.

I was about to say “isn’t he on American Dad” based on him name-checking American Dad as one of his many credits but I just looked it up and he was only in one episode. Damn. Somebody give George work he seems nice.

beakman's world, anyone? The wild and wacky world of Paul Zaloom? Hmm? Anyone?

lol you wish...

Baby Blues really was my everything back in the early 2000s, it may not have head the punk rock cred you clearly seem to crave it was a soothing balm for myself as a new father in a scary world (9/11 and all that, terrible stuff).

you raise a good point, that you’re a huge dork “with child” and I’m cool and laughed at 9/11 because it was funny to me, actually

Just read your Baby Blues "take down" and I gotta say: In the immortal words of Mike Francesca, "You're a fool. ho-kay? A total fool."

Uh huh. Yeah okay. Mike Francesca hordes pot bellied pigs in his apartment and lives in filth. He stinks, and so do youd

Baby Blue is like every animation nerd's wet dream. What if they made the rugrats with only the parents part. And here it is. Be careful what you wish for, chunky.

Yeah and it’s too bad because judging from the previous mail bags my audience is primarily made up of BABIES.

#adult swim #mission hill #adultswim2021 #ephemera

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lordoftermites · 3 years

Text

Fairy Chess ‖ p. ⅰ

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you...

Ship: Roiben x Kaye

Summary: {set immediately after Ironside} Kaye provides Roiben with a little more... entertainment at his coronation revel.

Rating: M/E for me going to hell but hey at least i’ve got reading material Part Ⅱ

―――――――――――――――――――

He wanted only one night.

One night, devoid of drunken courtiers. Of the endless pouring of wine. No constant strumming of lutes and harps and laughter echoing through the cavernous hall, no attendants bidding for a moment of his attention with some new seemingly-urgent dispatch. Just a single, fleeting night of glorious, undisturbed peace.

But when you're a king of two courts, both of which would see the other fall to ruin, peace is a knife's edge; a balancing act—not a reward. And no amount of wishing is going to change that.

Still, as Roiben leans back into the twisted branches of birch that make up his blood-won throne, watching the frenzied, continuous dancing, he finds himself hopelessly wishful anyway.

Before the dais, a mass of fey move almost as one enormous wave to the music, their entranced twirling and swaying both beautiful and nauseating. They have all come to celebrate the second crowning of their brutal new lord.

Groups of sprites whirl their little forms above the throng, bathing the packed earth of the newly-rebuilt Palace of Termites in flickering yellow light. Roiben decides he likes looking at them better—their movements don't make his stomach quite nearly as unsteady.

But even then, the way they blink in and out, reminiscent of fireflies in the trees at dusk, causes him to squint himself into the headache he's been suppressing all evening. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, sinking further into the throne that feels so much more like a cage; a cage he killed his way to get into.

“Acorn for your thoughts,” chimes Kaye’s voice against his ear. He smiles, eyes still closed, as he feels the familiar, comforting brush of her fingers slide over his shoulder. Roiben reaches a hand up to cover them, to ground himself in her touch. Her skin is warm— a constant contrast to the chill he can never seem to thaw from his own. “I find I have had my fill of revelry, for the next ten moons at least,” Roiben answers with another sigh. His eyes open to the overcrowded throne room once again, and that weariness washes over him anew. “Unfortunately, it would seem this one has no intentions of slowing anytime before that.” Kaye moves from her position behind him, slipping between his throne to the wooden stool beside it.

Roiben shifts his gaze to look at her, and cannot stop his breath from catching: she’s clad in a fluid, iridescent dress coming to tattered strips just above her clover green knees. Pewter ties gather slashed sleeves at her shoulders, the front of it dipping below her collarbone to pool at the beginning of her sternum. He smiles again: the sheen of fabric is the exact silver of his eyes.

Her wild hair is pulled up into two emerald knots on top of her head—space buns, she called them once, much to his confusion; they resemble neither celestial body nor baked good, but he assumes it’s simply another human reference lost on him. At the roots, she’s dusted a silver glitter that catches the light of the sprites above them. Silver hoops line the length of her earlobe, and from each dangle a single star or crescent moon, respectively. On her feet, to no surprise, are the cracked leather boots she favors above any slipper made by Skillywidden, no matter how intricately stitched or comfortable they might be.

Roiben can’t help but marvel at her: a creature of two worlds, and equally as beautiful in both. He reaches out to take her hand, brushing over the extra joint in her thumb. She smiles at him, the smile that’s just for him, the smile he would burn the world down for.

“I’ve been to some pretty wild raves,” Kaye says, turning her inky black eyes to the sea of Folk before them. “But this one definitely takes the cake.” Again, another human phrase he doesn’t quite understand, but this one makes at least more sense than astronomical hairstyles. When she looks back at him, her brow raises. “It's your coronation revel, and you’re already partied out? I thought dancing till your feet bleed was just another day in Faerie for you.”

He chuckles, eyes settling on her hand in his. He’s almost sure his stomach will betray him if he dares another glance at the swirling revel-goers. “My… previous duties kept me elsewise occupied from most of the festivities,” he replies. To his great relief, neither of them need his explanation of what those duties had been. “When the guest of honor is you, it’s not nearly as easy to slip away unnoticed.”

Kaye leans over to take a fluted glass of wine from the table between them, and Roiben can’t help his gaze shifting up to the loose fabric at her chest, which opens at her slight movement to reveal a hint of the deep green curvature there. He swallows automatically, his throat suddenly dry.

“Like the view?” Kaye asks, leaning against her own arm to further accentuate that curve as she takes a sip of the plum-colored liquor. It’s a small gesture, but it’s enough to make Roiben’s breath catch. When his eyes flick back up to meet her, she’s wearing that coquettish grin that speaks true to her pixie nature. “Though doubtless you already know my answer," he says, giving her an impish smirk of his own, "Verily, I do.”

Kaye shortens the gap between them, near enough for him to smell the clove and blackberry wine on her warm breath. Near enough to kiss him, but she doesn’t. She lingers, instead pulling her bottom lip between her teeth—a move she knows all too well sets a fire alight in his veins, and it’s all Roiben can do not to close that gap between them entirely.

Her hand reaches to the collar of his doublet, where she trails a lazy finger along the silver stitching, brushing feather-light against his neck. He inhales slowly, a deliberate drawing of breath, as though to remind himself where they are. Again, he finds himself wishing the hall was empty and cursing the reality that it isn't.

Kaye pitches her voice low, so only he can hear among the raucous around them. “I think I know how to make this party a little more… interesting. A game. Kinda.”

His brow goes up at that. “A game?” he repeats, only slightly warily. While admittedly, any diversion to keep him from spoiling his own revel would be welcome—by his attendants as well as himself—he’s almost certain, from the mischievous glint in those sable eyes of hers, it isn’t likely to be something as simple as a chess match.

Kaye shrugs. Her gaze drifts down the front of his black doublet to his lap, lingering there momentarily before fluttering back up to his face. There's a craving there in those onyx depth. A shark circling its next meal.

“Unless, of course, you’re too chicken to play.”

Indeed, this will be no game on a checkerboard.

Roiben shifts in his seat, already finding himself full awake from his previously half-present participation in the night’s celebrations. He leans in, until his mouth is against Kaye’s silver-clad ear and grins at the small, sudden breath she takes in response. “If you mean to play a game of torment,” he whispers, his lips grazing her skin, “you may find I am not at all a fair opponent—nor a patient one—when I mean to win.”

Kaye, cheeks flushed with drink and something else, opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off. From below the dais, as if on cue, a throat clears. Roiben, gritting his teeth against a sudden rise of annoyance, draws himself back up on his throne. Bowed to nearly kissing the earthen floor is Ruddles, his chamberlain.

“Yes?” Roiben sighs, unable to hide his displeasure at being interrupted; he was, for the first time tonight, on the verge of actually enjoying his own celebration. Of course there would be something to stall that entertainment. “What is it now, a ninth round of toasting? More petitions? Perhaps a naming of yet another inanimate object?”

The old hob rises with a grunting effort, either unaware of Roiben’s clipped tone, or so used to it by now that he doesn’t let it perturb him. “My King,” Ruddles says formally, and even though the title has been invoked countless times since his first crowning, Roiben still can’t quell the sour taste that floods his mouth upon hearing it.

The chamberlain continues, again oblivious to the ticking in his master’s jaw. “Since it is nearly dawn, I thought perhaps you would wish to retire.” Ruddles turns to sweep his hand over the continuous movement of courtiers. “There are naught but a few simple matters of the court that myself and the other members of the council can handle in your stead—or save upon your return, should so desire."

Desire is the very thing being kept from him at the moment, though it isn't as if his chamberlain knows that. Still, Roiben can barely stifle an eye roll. "I was unaware that I needed permission to—"

The gentle squeeze of Kaye's hand on his arm stalls his scorn, and he forces himself to start over. "Apologies, Ruddles," he sighs. "I admit, I am overtired. I should indeed very much like to rise from this seat—before I become part of its ornamentation." Roiben stands, tired limbs groaning in protest from hours of being stationary.

Kaye stretches at his side, feigning a yawn. "I could totally kill for a bed right now," she says, and while she is also bound incapable of lying, the look in her eye when Roiben meets her gaze tells him there is nothing to do with sleep in her confession. The wink she gives solidifies her meaning.

The little hob nods, seeming to miss their unspoken exchange, and bows low once more. "As you wish, my King. I shall address the court of your retirement—"

Roiben shakes his head to forestall the chamberlain, and holds a hooked arm out for Kaye, who takes it with another squeeze. "No need. They are blissfully unaware of my presence as it is, let them continue. And, Ruddles—" He pauses at the foot of the dais next to the hob, leaning low enough to not be overheard. "It would please me greatly if you saw to it that we are undisturbed."

Ruddles gives a reverent nod and steps aside, clearing their way off the platform. Without stealing another glance back at the endless revel, the king and his consort leave the tumultuous celebration behind them.

#i liked writing this one tbh #we know kaye would pull some shit like this too #makin' roiben do a sweat #like can you imagine the dude sitting on his throne just #*casually crosses legs*#（°___°；）#i have 0 doubt bruh is inches away from losing his cool at all times #rath roiben rye #roiben #kaye fierch #kaye x roiben #modern faerie tales #mft #tfota #i need a fic tag but no think

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adamreno · 3 years

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The Emotional Economy: what your feed feeds you.

I’ve always understood the economy as the place where we exchange goods and services for dollars and cents, but in the digital age, where we both consume and create content of infinite variety, I find myself engaging in much more than commerce on sites like Facebook, Google, Netflix, etc. Some call it an attention economy, but this dignifies only one side of the equation, what the sites get out of us, but what do we get out of them?

I grew up watching tv and listening to talk radio with my parents. In my mind those platforms always existed as sources of both information and entertainment. Then, when the digital age first came to my door and I started running google searches and watching channels like Epic Meal Time on Youtube, the situation seemed much the same, the internet was a source of information and entertainment, but what I realize in retrospect, as its options and services expanded, was that it would soon become the primary provider of my emotional needs and desires.

Joy was maybe the first emotion served up for me. Before high school my friends and I would stay up late playing video games and laughing at Happy Tree friends. Since I was with them it was also an opportunity for social connection, that is until I began searching on my own. As a teenager I found sexual gratification on the internet. Porn brought one of the most intense and gratifying human experiences a mere handful of clicks away. After high school fascination and wonder found me when my mind was expanded by intellectual content through YouTube and podcasts. In the same period I started forming an identity as both a silly and serious seeker on sites like twitter and tumblr. Then, in my young adult life, when I became lonely, my favorite podcast hosts became a much craved source of company and belonging. When listening to them I was part of a unique group, a tribe of people who understood points and jokes that few others in the mainstream could. When I would get stressed or overwhelmed these hosts could also offer me relief, their jokes and ideas gave me a sense of comfort and safety. When I became depressed TV shows like Black Mirror, House of Cards, and Mr. Robot gave me something to be excited about and compelled by.

So throughout my life I have gotten a lot out of these platforms, too much at times. I suffered from porn addiction for years and was definitely dependent on Youtube, podcasts, and Netflix for a time. Even today I find myself falling into compulsive periods of use from time to time.

Netflix recently released a documentary called the The Social Dilemma. The film argues that it is these site’s addictive architecture which is to blame; i.e. site’s like Facebook do not treat users humanely. I liked the film a lot and I agree that the design of these sites plays a role, but I worry about how such a narrative may obscure other key elements behind compulsive use of such sites. In other words this idea that social media is addicting people because it is addicting is eerily reminiscent of how we have talked about drugs. We told kids to ”just say no”, with the idea being that you can’t succumb to drug problems if you never take drugs. I.e. the addictive thing is to blame solely. Now, I’m not saying that that there is no difference between social media and a book or carrots and cocaine, I grant that we are more susceptible to some things than others and that some things are more dangerous than others (especially for children), but my vague understanding of addiction says that addiction is not simply a problem with a particular substance or particular activity. If it was then why do the “the overwhelming majority of people who use drugs do not get addicted”? (Dr. Carl Hart). My own experience tells me that there are other factors at play driving addiction, I’ve abused myself myself the most with media, cigarettes, alcohol, and sugar when I was overwhelmed, stressed, and lonely.

So though I am glad the experts interviewed in the Social Dilemma pointed out the manipulative tactics of social media, I was more impressed by a subtler narrative in the movie involving the children using their devices. A young girl and a teenage boy are shown struggling with common insecurities and emotional vulnerabilities: was the girl pretty enough? Why was the teenage boy’s girlfriend dating someone new? What were they supposed to believe about the world? The emotional states drive them to use their phones and then the apps give them hits of what they need: affirmation, relief, belonging, but these are only tastes of what we need, they are not the full embodied experience of human connection. Take my own story from above, those sites and services helped me cope, but only because I needed a way to cope, because I didn’t have access to authentic connection, with myself, with others, or with life in general. And critically I also lacked alternative ways to deal, alternative ways to relieve or handle my stress, to feel my emotions, my pain. You see, though we often call our devices distractions, this label can be misleading, in times of distress they are actually pacifiers. They put off the pain that we are not prepared to feel, whether it be boredom, loneliness, shame, regret, anxiety, guilt, etc.

Drugs solve real pain for addicts, albeit at a cost, and so does compulsive media consumption. In a study I’ve heard about known as Rat Park, rats were much more likely to use the drug morphine when they were alone isolated in a cage than when they were among other rats in a large enclosure with plenty of things to do. The implication is that one’s environment may play a decisive role, a source of distress or an alternative to it. If you don’t care for a study about rats So the upshot I for me of this study and my view here generally, is that if we find ourselves craving the emotional snacks that these sites serve up, then let’s ask ourselves what are we missing in our current environment, what don’t we have access to? For then, if we want we can start looking for it ourselves. Heck, maybe we can even opt of meeting our needs through an economy and create an emotional ecosystem, something I hope to write about in the future.

Writers notes:

I read that a recent attempt to replicate the findings of Rat Park were unsuccessful, but that it had been replicated multiple times in the past. I have also heard about how early adverse childhood experiences (ACES) put people at greater risk for drug abuse, which seems to get at the same idea, that environments drive people to drug abuse rather than just the drugs themselves.

In general I am still uncertain about how to proceed with using such evidence when I admittedly am not taking deep dives into the research. Nonetheless what I include is still part of my ideology for better or for worse.

I was given this idea of an emotional economy while on an LSD trip.

I also think these points could be applied to the larger consumer economy in general, but I focus on social media because of how prevalent and well targeted it is.

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thegreenwolf · 3 years

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[8-3-21] Today's (slightly belated) Lammas Skull Scrying comes from Least Weasel. Here is what she had to say:

See how high the sun is over the land! See how the heat scorches the plants and dries the ground! Summer is well upon us, and water becomes scarce. The young animals born in the spring are now stronger and faster, and the easy meals are more challenging these days. Flowers turn to fruit, yet fruit takes time to ripen. And we all wait for the rains of fall to soak the land again.

Would that we could bask in spring's lush greenery year-round! Yet that is not the way of things. All beings must go through this trial, surviving on less water while hoping resources hold us through to when we are flush again. I see the birds watching the berries begin to turn, and I capture the unwary and weak. This is a liminal space, where the harvest is just beginning but not yet in full force, and the heat threatens to keep us from seeing it come to fruition.

So how will you survive the hottest, driest days? Will you hide in the cool comfort of your home and hope that the fires do not reach you? Will you offer water to those in need, that they may survive with you to the the rain's return? Will you keep your portion of the harvest safe, or will it be stolen by those who have too much already and crave only more, more, more?

I feed to survive; even when I do not eat all of a kill, I provide much-needed food for other beings. I take the weak, and leave the strongest prey running well-fed on what greenery remains. My actions benefit others as well as myself, and we are all in this forest and field together. How do your actions affect others? Are you able to benefit the world, or do you only take? Do you make the best use of resources, so that they do not go to waste?

Think, as the sun shines late into the evening, of where that balance is rolling to. What may the fall bring, and how will you welcome it in?

You can order my book Skull Scrying: Animal Skulls in Divinatory Trance, at https://thegreenwolf.com/books/skull-scrying/ – and yes, even if you don’t have a Paypal account you CAN use the Paypal option to pay with a debit or credit card!

#skull scrying #scrying #skull #vulture culture #pagan

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vampiregirl1797 · 4 years

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Vampire in the Modern World

BBC Dracula x Female Reader

Gif Not Mine.

For My Masterlist Click Here.

Working at the Jonathan Harker foundation isn’t the career you’d envisioned yourself having as a child. I’d first been enrolled in the programme during my third year of studying biochemistry at Oxford University. The life of a student was stressful by way of work and lack of funds, and so Dr. Van Helsing suggested the blood donation procedure to me. I mean, at first it was a dream come true—come in once a week, donate a pint of blood, earn a thousand pounds a month. At the beginning, I hadn’t been fully informed as to what exactly the blood was being used for, and with Dr Helsing recommending the programme to me, and me finally being able to afford to live modestly in London, I hadn’t thought to question it.

However, when I left University and was offered a better-paid position (three times my original wage packet) for a few more hours of work a week, I was told the full extent of what the Jonathan Harker foundation actually represented. It was dedicated to the analysis and evaluation of vampires, something that I had believed to be mythical until that point. That meant their behaviours, reactions to blood, and even the extent of their self-control was studied meticulously. Now, my position wouldn’t involve studying. I, along with a handful of other people, were all being assigned to a particular vampire. This was all decided on our blood types, lifestyles and our personalities.

We were expected to donate a pint of blood a day—due to the high amounts we’d have to take red blood cell renewals that the lab had created specifically for this purpose. As well as this, we’d be spending a minimum of an hour with the vampire we were assigned to, which would be recorded for the scientists observing the interaction to evaluate. It had taken about four weeks to get to this point, which was the point of being assigned to our own vampire. First, we had one last presentation involving the dangers we would be facing, along with the discovery the foundation had recently made. Which was how I found myself sitting in a dimly lit lecture hall, with Professor Bloxham stood at the front and waiting to start the presentation.

I sighed softly and glanced around me, not paying too much attention to the several other people in the room. It wasn’t uncommon for us not to chat amongst one another—we knew the dangers of the job and so getting attached wasn’t a smart move. Some may have considered that to be heartless, I viewed it as a necessary precaution, and evidently so did everyone else as they followed the same behaviour. This was something we did to earn a living, and so our lives started outside of these walls, the people whom we became within them was a far cry from the person our loved ones knew.

My eyes flickered back to Professor Bloxham as she started to speak, most of it details I’d already heard before, at least until she got to the part of the Demeter. It had been known as the ship Count Dracula had boarded over 100 years ago in order to gain passage to England. However, the passengers had discovered what he was with the help of Agatha Van Helsing who Dracula had bought to snack on during the journey. It was rumoured by the few passengers that escaped that the ship was blown up by the Captain and Van Helsing herself in order to prevent the curse of vampirism from reaching English soil. But apparently, it had been discovered very recently.

I felt myself lean forward in my seat as the projector presented the scuba diver footage of the Demeter at the bottom of the sea. It looked so old, and yet quite untouched. The golden writing carved into the side of the mahogany wood seemed to glitter on the screen.

‘So this is the main part of the ship. Basically undisturbed for a hundred years.’ She said, looking around and smiling slightly at what was probably several expressions of wonder, ‘the original teams were looking in the wrong place, no one realised quite how close Count Dracula’s ship got to the British mainland.’ She glanced behind her as she continued, ‘we searched the wreck for three days, but what we were looking for was approximately two hundred yards south of there.’

I felt my heart beat faster in my chest at the sight of a coffin shaped wooden box appearing on the screen. It was as if my body knew what it was, but my mind was refusing to accept the logical direction that Professor Bloxham’s findings were almost certainly heading in.

‘Now, a box this old, you’d expect at least a few barnacles.’ We could all clearly see there were no such things, in fact the box looked untouched, ‘but look at it. Untouched by any living thing.’

I held my breath as I watched hands pry the box open, revealing what appeared to be a perfectly preserved Count Dracula. He almost looked like he was leisurely floating at the bottom of the sea, rather than being essentially impeccably well maintained in death. His eyes were even open, which seemed to highlight the relaxed expression on his face.

‘As you can see, even after 123 years, the body was perfectly preserved.’ Someone’s hands inspected Dracula’s face, lifting his lip to reveal his pearl white teeth that even a fool could identify as weapons. I felt a shiver slither down my spine and goose bumps rise on my arms.

Professor Bloxham turned to face us, her brow quirked, ‘or so we thought.’

I frowned in confusion until I saw the person’s fingers move into Count Dracula’s mouth, before I could wonder if the worst would happen, crimson coloured the screen as the vampire bit down on the diver’s fingers, evidentially taking in some of their blood. The whole class reacted together as we watched the diver struggle to retrieve their fingers from his mouth, some releasing startled gasps, others groaning in discomfort, however I was too shocked to move. If he hadn’t been dead before, that meant he’d been comatose, but what did it mean now that he was fed? My eyes fell to the Professor as she explained, the dread in my gut growing with each word.

‘The body was not preserved. Dracula, was in fact alive. Though dormant.’ She sighed, shifting on her feet and leaning to rest on the desk behind her, ‘apparently in some kind of restorative coma, in which he would have remained, if I hadn’t been stupid enough to feed him. So in case you’re wondering, yeah, vampire’s bite.’ She held up her bandaged hand, identifying herself as the diver who had been masticated.

She lowered her arm and looked around each and every one of us as her voice took on a grave tone, ‘you need to know what you’re signing up for. We will keep you safe, but this isn’t just about giving blood, it’s not just another student drug trial. There is a reason it is better paid. You will all have controlled exposure to a vampire. Are we clear?’

She let that sink in for a moment, and I felt the fear and severity of the situation churn in my gut. What if I ended up dead? Mauled by a vampire who saw me as nothing other than his or her next meal provided in order to satiate their hunger? I took a deep breath and reminded myself that there were precautions in place in order to protect me should it be necessary.

‘Obviously, at this point, having triggered his revification, we opted for tactical retreat.’ Professor Bloxham’s voice broke me out of my self-reassurance, ‘we resealed the box so nothing could interfere with the process, and we monitored from the shore. It took Dracula another ten hours to fully revive. And of course, we were waiting for him on the beach.’

Her inability to maintain eye contact at the end of her presentation made me wonder if that was all of the information, but I wasn’t able to dwell for too long as the projector switched off and the lights turned on. I found myself blinking in discomfort at the sudden brightness as my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

‘Now, before yesterday all of you were assigned to a specific vampire.’ She revealed, and I found myself frowning when her eyes seemed to settle on me for a second longer than everyone else.

‘However, due to our capture of Dracula yesterday evening we had to re-evaluate our submissions due to his known and very specific dietary requirements. Of course, you will all be informed of your assignment shortly, but I’d like you to be pre-warned that one of you,’ she took a breath, seeming to steel herself for what she was about to say, ‘will be assigned to Count Dracula.’

I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Count Dracula was one of the most famous vampires for a reason. He took time to decide upon whom he would like to feed from, and when he reached his verdict he relished in the feed, often taking his time as he gorged on his victim’s blood. He was known to have no self-control when it came to feeding, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the person he was assigned to didn’t last a week. I took another deep breath—what were the chances that it would be me, right? I mean he had “specific” dietary requirements and I was positive that I was nothing special when it came to blood flavour. I felt the knot of dread in my stomach relax as I leaned back in my chair, relaxing at the realisation—I was nothing special, of that I was positive, and I would most certainly not live up to Count Dracula’s exclusive blood cravings.

‘Y/L/N?’ I looked up to see one of the scientists calling my name from the door at the back of the room. I stood up, surprised to see I was the last one to be called—I must have been freaking out so much that I had tuned out my surroundings.

I bit my lip as I followed the Dr who had come to fetch me, when I asked her where I was going she informed me she was taking me to my assigned vampire. I just about had a heart attack. Before I could question it, she explained that Dr Helsing had specifically asked for me to be bought directly to her, so that she could introduce me to whomever I was assigned to. I should have paid more attention to the several winding corridors I was led down, but I was too lost in my thoughts and in trying to control my heartbeat that was rising in panic.

‘Ah, Y/N.’ Dr Helsing’s soft voice garnered my attention and I looked up from the floor to see her waiting for me beside a metallic door, ‘thank you for coming so quickly. We wish to make the introduction now while the sun is still up, as we can use that for our main point of defence.’

I nodded before I asked, ‘who am I assigned to?’ I wished my voice had sounded stronger than it did, but that was the least of my worries.

Dr Helsing smiled tightly, ‘Count Dracula.’ She was blunt, and I appreciated that because I don’t think my heart could have taken any fumbling.

The Dr that had led me there scurried away, and so I had no choice but to follow the leader of the foundation through the metallic door.

‘Why me? I thought he had specific requirements? I am positively certain there is nothing special or even flavoursome about my blood.’ I crossed my arms over my chest defensively, so concentrated on talking to the Dr, that I hadn’t taken notice of the giant triangular glass prison cell in the centre of the room.

‘You are correct, his requirements are specific and looking back on his past victims,’ she paused, taking a key and turning it into the wall beside the door, ‘well at least those that we know of, you carry the same characteristics as well as a few new ones of your own. We believe you will be a suitable donor. If not, you will be re-assigned.’

I sighed, moving my neck around in a circular motion as I tried to loosen up the muscles—they always got tight when I was stressed. My eyes followed Dr Helsing as she walked over to a table that rested along the back wall, I found myself watching what she was collecting with expressed interest. I swallowed when I realised she was gathering the necessary instruments for drawing blood. Noticing my nerves, she began to speak.

‘I have already taken a blood sample from Count Dracula, now I will take a pint of your blood inside his chamber.’ She lifted a metal tray, satisfied she had all she needed, ‘we will remain in the sunlight to stop his attack should he be unable to control himself in the presence of your blood. You will remain with him as he drinks and another sample will be collected after he has feasted.’

‘Wonderful.’ I mumbled, pulling the sleeves of the pale blue jumper I was wearing over my hands.

‘Well, well, I can’t say I’ve ever had a meal sound so disgruntled at the prospect of my company.’ His voice washed over me like a soothing balm, my body seeming to involuntarily relax for a moment, until my head caught up with my heart and I realised what he’d just said.

My eyes met his for the first time and my heart skipped a beat at the charm, mirth and hunger that lingered behind his irises. My cheeks flushed, and my gaze fell to his mouth, which in that moment was smirking at my reaction of him, but I found myself briefly enamoured with the plumpness of his lips before I forced my gaze to move on. He was at least six feet tall, his dark hair and eyes adding to the tall, dark and handsome cliché. I bit my lip, the thought of him being attractive under different circumstances crossing my mind, but I reminded myself what was happening here: I was his meal and his company for the next hour. If I wanted to stay longer, I could, but honestly I didn’t see that happening.

‘It’s not your company that is the problem, Count Dracula, rather your lack of control when in the presence of freshly spilled blood.’ I murmured, once I was satisfied that I’d taken his appearance in completely. My voice was calm, and surprisingly firm.

He blinked, seemingly also surprised by my comeback, though before he could respond Dr Helsing opened the door to his cell and led me inside. We were both careful to remain standing in the rectangle of sunlight while he slinked in the corners. I drew up my sleeve and felt myself shiver as the cool cotton swab was swiped over my skin, the needle quickly following suit. My eyes fell shut as I tried to transport myself somewhere else, preferably somewhere where I wasn’t being stabbed with a needle in front of a bloodthirsty vampire. Unfortunately, the animalistic growls coming from Count Dracula rendered my attempts futile. My eyes fluttered over to him to see his irises were now a crimson red that seemed to glow from his place in the shadows, along with his teeth that appeared to have sharpened as his hunger grew.

‘How long since he’s been fed?’ I wondered aloud.

‘Aside from the small deposit he had from Professor Bloxham that awoke him, he has had nothing for one hundred and twenty three years.’ Dr Helsing answered, not looking away from the blood bag that was slowly filling up.

My eyes moved back over to the Count, a pang of sympathy shooting through me—he must have been starving, perhaps even malnourished. Did vampires even get malnourished? His eyes fell on mine, I was surprised as his ability to look away from his food source when he was so hungry, and I felt my heart skip a beat when I realised his eyes had melted back to their usual chocolate brown.

I startled when I felt Dr Helsing swab my skin again. I placed my hand over the cotton, holding it in place while the bleeding subsided.

‘That’s all you will be donating today.’ She assured me, placing the used utensils in a biohazard bag and handing me my donation. I took it in my free hand, somehow grossed out by how warm it felt.

‘I’ll have some food sent in for you, along with the pills you’ll need to take to boost your red blood cell growth.’ She offered me a tight smile that I assumed was supposed to be comforting, and left shutting the glass door behind her, followed by the metallic one that made a much louder thud.

‘I don’t know how long you’re planning to stare after the esteemed doctor, but is there any way you could hand me my breakfast?’ My heart rate picked up at the sound of his voice, ‘I’m famished.’

I took a breath and removed the cotton swab from my arm, when I’d deduced that the bleeding had stopped, I slipped the material into my pocket and slid my jumper sleeve back down my arm.

‘How do you want me to give it to you?’ I asked, not particularly wanting to move from the rectangle of sunlight I was stood in.

‘Well, I’d appreciate if you handed it to me, that would be the polite thing to do.’ He said, mirth colouring his tone.

I took a breath; trying to find the courage to take a mere two steps forward to join him in the shadows. It would only have to be for a brief moment after all, and vampire or not, he deserved to have his meal handed to him. My eyes met his again, and I was surprised to see that his eyes had softened, almost as if he were sympathetic to my plight. A surge of courage seemed to ripple through me, and I found myself speaking before my mind could catch up with my impulsiveness.

‘Close the ceiling.’ My voice wasn’t loud but it rang with a formality that echoed through the glass pane that built his cell. The man who was standing outside with his gun followed my instruction a lot easier than I thought he would, and before I knew it my heart was racing as the sunlight withdrew from the room, shrouding us both in the artificial lights in the room.

I stepped forward and placed the blood bag on the table, sliding it over to the other side where he was standing. He observed me for a moment, seemingly impressed by my courage and if I wasn’t mistaken his eyes glittered with interest. I took the seat opposite his, curling my knees up to my chest in an attempt to suppress my shiver. My head rested on my knees as I observed him, my eyebrow cocking in silent question: was he going to stare all day, or was he going to eat the meal he was probably dying for? I got my answer a second later when he moved at an inhuman pace and snatched the blood bag from the table. The Count took his seat across from me and to my surprise, began sipping on the blood. Quite impressive restraint for someone who hadn’t eaten in over a century, but I figured it would be smart not to question it.

‘Hmm.’ He moaned, the sound affecting me more than I cared to admit. Not a drop fell from his mouth as he drank, leisurely savouring every drop. His noises of pleasure continued and I found myself stupefied and aghast by the spark of arousal that seemed to shoot through my body every time the different noises fell from his mouth.

‘Y/N,’ he murmured, his voice wrapping around my name like velvet, ‘British born, dead parents and hmmm… a virgin.’

My cheeks coloured in embarrassment—I hadn’t been made aware of the information he’s be able to gather from a few sips of my blood. It should have been intrusive, violating… but it wasn’t.

‘Don’t be embarrassed, Y/N,’ his eyes darkened as he gazed at me, it felt like he was caressing me with his voice, ‘you taste positively exquisite. Remind me to thank Dr Helsing for finding you for me, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to achieve such a feat on my own with the world being as advanced as it is now.’

‘I’m surprised you’re taking your time with that. After a hundred years of starving, I’m not sure I could be quite as reserved.’ I pulled my jumper sleeves down over my hands again, the feeling of being exposed making me want to cover as much as possible.

‘Yes, well, I’m not quite sure why the good doctor lied about that. See, while they did corner me on the beach I managed to escape and find myself a meal a fair distance from the city.’ He informed me, his casual mention of murder should have repulsed me, but it didn’t. I had no idea what that said about me.

‘Somehow, Dr Helsing’s little foundation found me and here I am, able to enjoy your life’s essence slowly, which is excellent as that is exactly how this blood should be consumed.’ He held up his blood bag in an ironic salute before taking another sip.

‘That sucks. That you escaped and still ended up being captured, I mean.’ I said before I could stop myself. Logically I knew he was dangerous, and the safest option would probably be to keep him locked up somewhere like this. But I just couldn’t help the pang of sympathy and injustice that flared in my gut at the thought.

‘Indeed,’ Dracula grinned, his eyes seemed unable to stray away from me as he drank, as if he were matching up what he tasted to what he saw. I wondered if he found himself disappointed, if he thought the meek girl sitting in front of him didn’t measure up to the supposedly exquisite blood he was drinking.

A few moments later, a guard bought me some food—beef chow mien with a glass of water and a small paper cup containing three tablets. I swallowed the pills one at a time before digging into my own food, relishing the flavours that exploded in my mouth. I didn’t know if it was the blood loss, or the influence of Dracula enjoying his own food, but Chinese had never tasted so good. When I was finished, I pushed my tray an inch from me, a habit I’d picked up whenever I was finished with a meal.

‘So, Y/N, tell me about yourself.’ He murmured, now leaning back in his chair, right ankle resting on his left knee, while his right hand served as a rest for his head.

‘I’m sure you know more about me than anyone else ever has,’ I told him honestly—if he’d been able to pick up a few things from a mere few mouthfuls then I was sure he knew me better than anyone now he’d finished the entire pint.

‘Perhaps.’ He chuckled, the sound was dark, yet warm, ‘but I’d still like to hear it from your lips.’

I frowned and subconsciously bit my lower lip, unaware that his eyes followed the movement. Honestly, there was nothing interesting about me that sprang to mind in that moment, so I decided to offer him some mundane facts.

‘I graduated from the University of Oxford a few months ago with a first class honours in biomedical science.’ I started, my voice reeling off the information without much thought, ‘I started the programme about a year ago, but then I was only giving a pint of blood a week, I decided to take on this… promotion, if that’s what you want to call it… after graduation as a way to earn an income while I looked for a job related to my degree.’

‘Why science?’ he wondered, the leg that had been propped on his knee fell to the floor, allowing him to lean forward and rest his elbows on the table. I couldn’t help but blush at the genuine interest in his eyes; it was an emotion that no one had ever before regarded me with.

‘It was a subject that always fascinated me in school,’ I shrugged, clutching my legs tighter as his eyes narrowed.

‘No.’

‘No?’ I frowned.

‘No.’ he repeated simply, ‘you’re lying, Y/N. So I’ll ask again, why science?’

I sighed, my shoulders slumping in defeat, but I should have known that lying wouldn’t work when he’d already tasted the truth in my blood.

‘I took science because I found it interesting, that wasn’t a lie, but the main reason was because… my mum was a scientist and I wanted to make her proud.’ My tone was hollow, not expecting him to understand the sentimentality behind my decision.

‘You miss your parents greatly.’ He said, his voice surprisingly gentle and I felt my eyes close in response as I nodded, ‘I can taste it. Your loss flows in your blood, but it is only a faint passing flavour. I’m sure your parents would be proud of your ability to move forward with your life, without completely forgetting about them.’

My eyes fluttered open and I took a deep breath in an attempt to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

‘Thank you, I needed to hear that.’ My voice was quiet, probably too low for any human to hear, but the slight nod the Count aimed in my direction assured me he’d picked up my softly spoken words.

‘It’s been an hour.’ Dr Helsing’s voice startled me from my reverie, and I realised that I’d been staring into Dracula’s eyes, lost in the apparent warmth and uncharacteristic softness.

‘Why is the ceiling closed?’ Dr Helsing asked, her voice sounding a mixture of disapproving and curious.

‘I told them to close it.’ I said, standing from my chair, suddenly feeling very self-aware now that Dr Helsing had disrupted the calm little bubble that we had been immersed in. It was something I hadn’t realised existed until she had disrupted it, and I was surprised by the lack of concern over my internal revelation.

‘That was very stupid.’ She remarked with pursed lips as she approached the Count, who was now stood finding solace in the corner he’d been confined to when I’d first entered his cell.

I didn’t respond to her comment, instead I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the glass wall across from the door. I stared blankly at the floor, wondering what I could do tonight; the few friends I had either had work, plans or were away on holiday. So going out wasn’t an option, but that was fine, honestly a quiet night in sounded absolutely perfect. Although a small part of me was yearning to stay in the Count’s company a little longer, I decided that leaving and giving myself some distance from the vampire was probably the best idea.

‘Well, I’ll be leaving then.’ I announced suddenly, unintentionally cutting off the conversation they’d been having.

‘So soon?’ Dracula asked. I wondered if I imagined the tremor of despair in his tone, but I shook it off.

‘Yes, I-I uh should be getting home. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ I offered him a small but genuine smile. Despite my earlier trepidation, meeting him had actually been rather pleasant and I’d found myself relaxed in his company—which was quite rare.

‘I’ll be seeing you soon, Y/N.’ His voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket and I found my eyes fluttering shut for a moment as I made my way to the door, as if to savour the feeling.

If I hadn’t been so lost in that sensation and focused on making my way to the door without walking into something, I might’ve picked up on the dark promise that coated his words.

#bbc dracula #bbc dracula x reader #claes bang

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

Beauty Chooses II-Chapter 13

A special thanks to @statell for all your help

Previous Chapters at AO3

Chapter 13 Love Trumps All (NSFW)

Jamie played with Faith until she was exhausted, and it was a delight to watch her hang upside down squealing with laughter, climbing on her father like he was tree with arms to steady her along the way. Many times he caught my eye speaking volumes wordlessly. I needed him, I craved him, and my body prepared for loving him. When Faith started yawning, we took her upstairs and she was asleep in minutes. Jamie held his hand out to me and pulled us into our bedroom. He leaned against the door and hugged me to him running his hand up and down my back before kissing me senseless. He moved me across the room like a dance and I followed him closely, locked in his gaze. When he laid next to me on our bed, I felt something was wrong. I knew his body, his style of lovemaking, his dominance when his need was high.

“Jamie, would you mind terribly if I slept a bit. I am done in from the two jumps last night. I need to rest before I love you again.”

“Worry not love, I will wait for you to be ready.”

He kissed me without passion and pulled me to cuddle against him. My body was screaming for him to touch me, so I laid perfectly still and breathed slowly in and out, hoping to convince him I was asleep. Before long Jamie was chasing his dreams and I exhaled in relief before letting myself rest for the afternoon. When I woke up, there was a note from Jamie next me.

‘My darling Sassenach, I hear Donus calling me for a ride in the snow. I tucked the blankets around you and built a fire to keep you warm. I will miss you while I’m gone. All my love is for you sweet Claire.’

A single tear rolled down my cheek from the sweet note, but I was determined to stop the never ending tears and jumped out of bed heading for the kitchen to help with dinner.

Misses Crook was first to grab my attention as she complained about no meat to cook for Jamie’s dinner. She handed me a list and asked politely if I would purchase the items, on the double. I laughed and grabbed my purse for a quick trip to the grocery store. Soon we would slaughter an animal for such a meal, I was grateful for the short cut of purchasing the meat ready to cook.

I looked for Jamie and Donus as I drove down our rode and almost missed them deep in the property where the stream was frozen solid. I hit the brakes and slid this way and that before coming to a stop. He sat on his beautiful horse, lost in his thoughts. He stared, unfocused, at the landscape and didn’t move. I wondered how long he sat there, contemplating his world and the bits that were stealing his thoughts. I shivered at the thought I had ruined his interest in me. He couldn’t make love this afternoon and now he sits alone, a million miles away. I drove to the grocery store in a completely different place than when I started, laughing out the kitchen door at Misses Crook’s face.

I shopped like a zombie, shaking my head occasionally trying to force myself to concentrate on the task I came for. When I pulled the jeep into Lallybroch, Jamie ran out of the barn and carried all the groceries into the house.

“Will ye come for a ride with me Sassenach?”

Jamie’s face was boyish and excited, how could I resist? “Of course, I would love to.”

Rather than take Brimstone, he pulled me up to sit in front of him on Donus who looked fresh as a daisy. No doubt from standing still while Jamie ruminated over whatever was troubling him. I cleared my mind and leaned against the massive chest that I belonged to. I stayed quiet hoping Jamie would open up, but he was in a happy place at the moment and talked mostly about how the land had changed, pointing out landmarks we knew and remembering our time there. He pushed me with his jokes and stories until I was laughing too, remembering a time of innocence and falling in love. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. I dropped my head back, against his chest, and savored every minute. When the horses were fed, we ran to the kitchen and the savory aromas from a dinner cooking. The guys were busy getting Baritone ready for a show in Italy. They were both leaving tonight, and I wondered if I would ever see them again.

Misses Crook was red faced as she loaded the table with a tri tip roast, potatoes, baked carrots, green beans, mushrooms, colcannon, bannocks with caboc and crowdie cheese, and several new dishes I had never seen. She was praised for the perfectly cooked meal until she held up her hand to stop the compliments. Baritone asked if she cooked beef in Scotland.

“No laddie, we did not have such beasts to cook.”

“How in the world did you create a rare tri tip then? I’ve heard they are very hard to cook this way.”

“I dinna ken about rare cookin, I just followed the recipe in the book Glavia bought for me in town.”

“It’s a cookbook.” Glavia said distractedly as she spooned food into Faith’s mouth. I heaped another piece of beef on Jamie’s plate and walked behind him pushing horseradish on his plate and suggesting he dip the meat in it. His cheeks were pink from the heat of the horseradish, but he asked for more as another piece of beef was put on is plate.

I was hyper aware of Jamie, sensing his every need during the long feast and jumping to take care of him many times. Always with a kiss or a hand on his shoulder and blushing at his smile of thanks. When we were all stuffed and the dishes were done, Glavia took Faith to bed, Misses Crook said goodbye to the guys and went to her room. Joe and Baritone, Jamie and I, drank whiskey in front of the fire and talked until they had to leave. I gripped Joe hoping the hug would be remembered for the rest of our lives. I was going back to 1748 and destroying the rocks. We would not be back, and I hugged him for an extra minute to burn the feel of him into my soul. When they were gone, I looked at Jamie and hugged his waist.

“I am so full I think I might pop and this heavy beef is like a tranquilizer.”

“What is tranquilizer?”

“It’s medicine that puts you in a deep sleep.”

“My love is very tired, I am too.”

Jamie turned lights out as we made our way upstairs. My heart hurt because we would spend another night without the love I craved. I knew Jamie. If he wanted to love me, nothing would stop him. I simply provided a convenient excuse to not make love for another night. We wrapped ourselves around each other and rode our dreams, mine coming a bit harder than his.

This became our ritual for the next six days until I was out of excuses to help Jamie cover the fact that he did not want to make love to me. I went through the day working on my chore list while Jamie mended fences from the recent snow weight against it. The house was quiet when Glavia rested with Faith and Misses Crook cooked. I escaped to a hot shower, a sharp razer, and my favorite body wash. That did the trick and I felt relaxed and calm as I made my way to the bedroom, pushing the door closed with my foot before bending over and pulling the towel to my hair. I squeezed the excess water with the towel and stood up pushing my hair of my face.

When Jamie spoke, I nearly jumped out of my skin and grabbed the towel around me feeling my face on fire from my blush. I looked down at my feet wanting to melt into the floor, embarrassed by my naked display while drying my hair. I inched toward the closet, stammering to say something.

“Stop.”

I froze in place and heard him leave the bed. I could feel his heat very close to me, in front of me, then behind me. Fingers touched the top of my shoulders, lightly, before running down my arm. I felt his breath on my hair and his fingers dragging up my arms.

“Yer a bonnie vision Sassenach, every inch of ye as grand as the day we wed. Yer body hasna changed from pregnancy, yer arse is beggin to be touched. May I touch it mo chridhe? Please.”

I could feel his fingers on the back of my thighs creeping slowly closer to the towel. His touch was so light on my butt and I heard him gasp when his hand caressed me.

“Dear God,” he whispered.

I clutched the towel to me as his hands slowly came around my hips moving upwards. I thought I might pass out from the intensity of his touch and his breathing in my ear. I closed my eyes as his fingers touched the swell of my breasts. Every cell in my body was screaming at him to touch me, take me, force his will upon me until I screamed my release. When he covered my breast I sucked air involuntarily, irritated I had tipped my hand to my arousal.

He turned me around to look at me, but I was suffering from my modesty. I felt his hand under my chin pulling my head up so he could look into my eyes. How could he not see my need for him?

When his tongue invaded my mouth, I heard myself moan wantonly and was powerless to stop it as he pushed me to the bed and lifted me onto it. Still clutching the towel to me, he kissed me passionately, running his tongue down my throat and chest until he pressed it under the towel. I felt my nipples burning from the stimulation causing another moan when his hand covered my breast over the towel.

“I would trade a year of my life to look at what is under the towel. Have pity on this love sick fool, lass. Let me see ye.” He was whispering with a horse, breathy voice that made the hair on my neck stand up. His eyes were dark and trained on the towel holding himself back from ripping it off. I tugged until the towel came loose and I pulled it away feeling my breasts bounce from the effort. Rather than mauling me he just stared at every inch of skin before touching me softly with the tips of his fingers. I could feel my heart banging in my chest and took puffs of air trying to regulate my oxygen deficit.

Feather-light touches on my arms, legs, breasts, and neck, he watched the skin he touched and kissed me deeply. I heard his sharp intake of air when he touched my inner thigh and I almost came from the intensity. He was in command and the pace of his exploration was pushing me into the stroke zone.

“My darling Sassenach, breathe with me, relax yer quivering body and let me love ye.”

I locked my eyes on his and followed his instruction, praying he would fill me with himself and claim me as his own. It was what I wanted desperately, for Jamie to show me my place in his world, right next to him, a slave to his pleasure and unending need. When he touched my inner thigh, he pushed them open and slid two fingers into my fold. I gasped and arched my back moaning without control. I felt his tongue in my mouth and almost lost it as his fingers invaded my body.

“This love will bring me to my knees or give me the strength of ten men. I have tried to resist ye mo chaileagan milis, to gain control over yer hold on me. I am sorry mo chridhe. I surrender to yer love woman, I crave ye, every minute of the day and night, I surrender. Open yer body and let me in.”

I spread my legs wide and looked into his dark eyes. He held my head and my gaze as he pushed into me. I could see the superhuman strength he used to go slow and I wanted the moment to be real, brutal if need be, a race to the finish if that is what he wanted. I ran my hands down his back and dipped between the cheeks of his butt running my finger from his balls to his anus making him growl like an animal. He devoured me and lost his mind at my touch. I lifted my knees to either side of him and kept my finger stroking his forbidden places while he pounded into me and sent me reeling to the stratosphere of the angels, barely aware of his extended growl as he pumped himself into me. He panted and clutched me to him while I kissed his neck and cheek.

When he could breathe again, he turned my face to his and I was startled by the intensity in his eyes.

“You belong to me, now and forever,” he panted.

I nodded my head yes and felt the assault of his possessive kisses. He was back, by my side, and we had both learned the most powerful lesson, love trumps all, and will not be denied. My fears and timid shyness left my body when I exhaled, and Jamie claimed the space as his own.

“Do not fear, love. I will ride the centuries with ye, after this life and into the next, I wilna be parted from ye. I promise.”

We napped in our embrace and when I opened my eyes he was still holding me, deep in sleep. I felt closer to him than ever before.

“I will follow you to the ends of the earth, my love.” He pulled me to him and I dropped into the void of sleep again.

We allowed ourselves some time to eat and sleep and talk to Glavia and Misses Crook about what was ahead. Jamie drew the mountain and our property lines, penciling in a small house that they could share in the future in close proximity to our own. I was so glad they were coming with us, rather than finding a position with Jocasta’s friends. The latter would have been much more civilized and comfortable I’m sure, but we were a family now. The bonds forged delivering Faith, fighting off a rapist and thief, narrowly escaping death from the red coats, and time travel, were as strong as steel bands connecting us to each other and I was relieved for their company and help. Jocasta had offered a sizable stipend to both women for their brave loyalty. It would get them comfortably to a new post if they wanted to leave.

We hung on Jamie’s every word when he drew the map. There was a structure for making whisky, a good size barn with an outdoor pen for the smaller animals. A very large garden that Misses Crook gave a nod to.

“Misses Crook, do ye think it’s big enough to feed all of us with left-over to put up for winter?”

“Well, I…I should say so,” she stammered through her blush.

My hand found Jamie’s thigh for a squeeze of appreciation. He found things to ask Glavia as well like which walls to put the nursery windows on. He made them both feel like a part of this enormous project.

Glavia inspected the ten thousand acre piece of land and shook her head, “what will you do with so much land?”

“It’s a home to the Highlander settlers. Each family will have enough space to farm the rich black soil, smaller plots for a home and a business, like a blacksmith, saddle maker, or a tailor.”

“I dinna see a kirk, Laird.”

“Ah, that would be here Misses Crook, with windows overlooking a spectacular sight of the land below. A valley nestled between the mountains with a river running through it. I have seen many deer in the meadows, elk and buffalo. People will come to church just to gaze over the ridge and feel inspired and holy inside. The ridge runs all along the East side of the property. It’s why I named the settlement Fraser’s Ridge.”

I was bowled over by the reverence in Jamie’s voice and the careful consideration of the project. I couldn’t look away from his face until he touched my cheek, boldly kissing me in front of the women.

When we were alone after supper, Jamie was reading in bed. I climbed on him, taking and giving until we were both completely spent. I could see Fraser’s Ridge in my mind and knew Jamie would bring his drawing to life, but he would have walked away, in fact, did walk away, to find me. I was a part of this story, alongside Jamie. I hoped I would be enough to truly help him.

After Hogmanay, we talked in earnest about going back. I realized Faith had outgrown the dress she jumped in five months ago and we would need wraps and new dresses as well. I purchased enough fabric for what we needed and white cotton to make Jamie a shirt. He was worried about Murtagh and it made him antsy. Misses Crook, Glavia, and I worked day and night to finish the garments and our excitement grew.

I made arrangements with the neighbor’s son to feed the horses again explaining his duty was done when he found the barn empty. He lifted his shoulders and took the fifty dollar bill I handed him.

My last indulgence in this century was good quality boots for the women and one little girl. They would be easily hidden under our skirts and last for years. I was delighted with my final purchase until I walked by a boutique with a lovely satin corset. I added silk stockings before rushing home.

On the first day in February, our agreed day to jump, I was strangely nervous. Misses Crook could hardly tie my laces because her hands kept going back to the satin fabric. She helped me into my dress. A lovely yellow jacket and split front skirt with a white facing skirt with green vines that I had embroidered over for authenticity. Printed fabric was still far in the future.

I was near panic for some reason, pacing our room until Jamie came in. He talked about leaving Murtagh with an enormous task when he jumped on the ship headed for Scotland. He hoped Murtagh went down the mountain before the snow covered the road and spent the worst of the weather at River run.

“You look bonnie in yer new dress Sassenach.” His fingers were touching me everywhere, making me confused in my nervous state. Murtagh flooded my head. Memories of him dropping Jamie’s treasures into the priest hole.

“Jesus Christ Jamie, all of your heirlooms and finery are buried on this property. Murtagh and I emptied the house just before the uprising, to protect it. Maybe we could all take something in our hands, the pieces that mean the most to you.”

“I love ye for thinkin of it but they arna that important, ye ken? Let’s leave them be.”

“Your father’s sword and your mother’s jewelry are here, we can take them with us, Jamie.”

The women were gathered in the parlor when we came flying down the stairs. Jamie had agreed to fifteen minutes of searching and no more. I ran into the crispy air and realized I was dressed for the eighteenth century and the priest hole was in a barn that was no longer there. My heart sunk until Jamie walked quickly to where he said the barn was and more specifically, the priest hole. He held a decorative sword that hung in the parlor which he carefully pushed into the dirt over and over again. I knew he wanted to find the treasure because fifteen minutes had come and gone several times, I was sure.

“I’m sorry Sassenach, I canna find it. He drove the sword into the dirt up to the hilt and I heard a distinctive thud and saw Jamie’s startled face. It seemed everyone was speaking excitedly at once. I worried we were late to jump until I rolled my eyes at how ridiculous that was. We were not expected, and most people did not own a watch. I told the women to put Faith down for her nap and watch one last movie. Jamie grabbed a shovel from the barn and started digging. He reached the burlap sacks finally and started hauling them up. I worried when I didn’t see the sword but one last feel deep into the hole and Jamie pulled it out with a huge smile on his face.

Jamie was quick to fill the hole and join us inside where we sorted out the most important objects and put the others in their natural place around the house. Misses Crook and Glavia packed their corsets with miniature portraits, candlesticks, and the apostle spoons, a set of twelve beautifully ornate silver spoons. Try as we might, no one had room for Ellen’s jewelry box until an idea popped in my head. I pulled Jamie to the kitchen pulling heavy-duty rubber bands out of a drawer. I put my foot through the bands until there were a dozen around my ankle. I pulled up my skirts and held the jewelry box to my thigh so Jamie could wrap the bands around the box and my leg.

I looked up, wondering why he was stalling. He was speechless and sputtering about my silk stockings, running his hand up to the lace and then down to my boot. He was spellbound for several minutes before he started moving again. He boldly pushed my skirts up until he could see both legs encased in silk. The skirts continued to rise until he saw the lower part of the satin corset.

“Christ, if ye mean to kill me with waitin it might be quicker to just slit my throat Sassenach.”

“Well, wait you must because it’s time to jump.”

“I’m a lucky man mo chridhe. Are ye ready?”

We linked arms behind the barn. Jamie held Faith and I held the sword. Faith had fallen asleep again on Jamie’s shoulder, so we closed the circle and I pulled the biggest rock from the sack and closed my eyes, concentrating on River Run.

When I filled my lungs with cool, clean air, my smile almost hurt. Jamie helped us down off the rock and we all looked around for any witnesses, feeling relieved there were none. We started walking to whatever awaited us at River Run.

Jocasta was warm and welcoming. Jamie asked about Murtagh and she blushed when telling him he had been there for the past month but returned to the ridge a few days ago. I wondered what that blush was about but was thrilled he had gotten off the mountain for the worst of the winter.

We spent two days at the plantation and borrowed a wagon to get us all to our new home. Jocasta held me warmly telling me all she had added to the wagon to help our transition. I was grateful for all she had done for us, and especially so for her forgiving the disappearing act five months ago. We settled into the wagon feeling excitement and maybe a bit of apprehension.

Like the first time to the ridge, we climbed the mountain for hours before Jamie pulled us to stop and stood up.

“Sweet Jesus. How did he do it?”

I got to my feet and almost passed out from shock. There in front of us was a grand house, piles of split wood, and other materials. The house had to be a two-story and there was smoke rolling out of two chimneys.

“How did he build this so fast, Jamie?”

“Sit Sassenach, let’s go find out.”

As soon as I sat down the wagon moved forward right up to the front of house. I could hear men laughing inside and wondered how many men were in there. Jamie helped us all down and reached for Faith then we opened the front door to the most peculiar sight. Murtagh stood over a makeshift desk and ten black men looked over his shoulder, cracking jokes and laughing. I blinked several times thinking I would wake in the wagon after a nap.

Murtagh looked up and seemed to freeze and stare at Jamie for a minute. Quick to Jamie’s side, he hugged his godson and his relief was clear on his smiling face. He hugged each of us, unabashedly, and looked into my eyes with tremendous warmth. “Welcome home, lass.”

“Murtagh, ye have some explainin to do. How did ye build this fine house during the five months I was gone then? And, uh, who are these men?”

“Except for the month we spent at River Run, they have been here to help, sent by the lovely Jocasta. There’s one thing I must tell ye Jamie. Here, they arna slaves, they are free men who get paid for their service.”

Murtagh smiled and walked through the men. “As luck would have it, they are strong, they learn quickly, and they are willing to work as hard as I do. We sleep on the floor, together. They havna seen a cold night since they came and what I eat, they eat. We share equally. Most importantly, they are happy here.”

Jamie’s eyes were like saucers as he looked from one man to the other. All of them had decent shoes and warm clothes and looked genuinely happy.

“Does my aunt know what ye’ve done here?”

“They are a gift to you Jamie. She wouldna understand if I talked for days. They wilna be going back to River Run. Might I have a word outside?”

Jamie walked to the door and both men slipped outside. The women looked scared and mute, so I walked to the first man and stuck out my hand in introduction. I went to the next man, smiling in greeting. I asked him what he did here, and he told me he splits wood while another yelled “the best he’d ever seen.” I covered our handshake with my other hand and smiled into his proud eyes. I moved to the next man noticing that Glavia had followed my example and was meeting the former slaves.

I learned much about these men. Mostly their happiness about the opportunity to work, be paid, be admired and appreciated as free men. What has Murtagh done here I wondered. One of the men offered hot beans as a meal and we were all ravenous. They made short work of finding things for us to sit on and we were handed a hot bowl of beans. The men sat on the floor and ate with us. Faith went from one man to the other, touching his face or arms, accepting a bite of beans when offered. We laughed at her innocence and fearless interaction with these dark-skinned men. She didn’t seem to notice they were different from us because they weren’t. It took the innocent eyes of a baby to see them as her father’s equal. I felt such pride in her. By the time I felt Jamie behind me he had seen enough to be almost speechless. One of the men held a bowl of beans out to him and Murtagh and they sat among us and ate.

I was quite aware of the miracle I was witnessing and wondered how the future would pan out for them. How could they be returned to indentured servants after knowing freedom, happiness, and pride? I looked to Murtagh and then Jamie.

“Fraser’s Ridge will not abide slavery,” he announced. “Men of all colors, who can prove their worth as a member of this community will be welcomed and given land to farm. We will let it be known, when a man crosses the line into Fraser’s Ridge, he is free.”

Murtagh smiled at his godson and Jamie looked at me with bright eyes, like he just solved the problems of the century. Because he did. I figured there would be those who oppose us, and those to sue us, maybe those to try and hurt us. It is the price of freedom for these men and we would fight for them. I had a very high opinion of our Laird and felt safe in his decision to give them protection.

I stayed in that pink bubble all afternoon and was anxious to ask Jamie about it when we were alone. When the men retired near the fire Jamie looked for a secluded place for the women to sleep. There were very few walls up on the interior of the house but the ladies were happy with a quiet corner. Too exhausted to care I imagine. Once they were bedded down with blankets and Faith between them Jamie took my hand and led me up the stairs to a place of our own. Only a small area of the upstairs had a rudimentary floor so we snuggled close together.

“Jamie, I have never been more proud of you than I was today. I am so thrilled we can give these men a better life. How do you plan to handle the opposition?”

“I have no idea, Sassenach, but keep a sharp eye for those who will fight us.”

Pop goes the bubble as he pulled me to him. I couldn’t think anymore and let Jamie’s rhythmic breathing pull me under.

It was the start of a grand adventure that would surely test our metal in the first years. Jamie held the bill of sale for all of the freed slaves in case we were challenged for our right to them. It happened a few times, local militia would ride in and demand to see papers on all ten men. Jamie was formidable and his dominance in this land was unmistakable. They would ride off and we would all get back to work taking quite some time before the ten of them would relax.

Jamie made it a priority to build our barn and we all agreed to spend many more nights on the floor so we could rescue our horses from Lallybroch. Jamie bought feed and hay from a merchant in town and we were well stocked when we decided to take our final jump. I felt very familiar with Fraser’s Ridge and confident I could get us back to this very spot. It would be my only failure jumping. We landed on the big rock outside of River Run with two horses, scared shitless at being on a slippery rock so high above the ground. Jamie jumped down and coaxed Donus to jump.

“Sassenach, if ye please, wake Brimstone up so she will see him jump off the rock. I think he’s ready.”

It wasn’t too much longer before Donus took an exaggerated leap of faith and jumped off the rock. Jamie mounted his horse with a proud smile that promptly fell off when Brimstone fell asleep again and I yawned.

“Ye must work with her to make her jump Sassenach and she’s asleep so ye must try harder.”

We had been on this rock for hours and I was exhausted. I pulled Brimstone to the edge of the rock and dropped to my butt and then onto the ground. She was so high above me I could barely hold her reins but clucked and kissed to her until she leaped to the ground dropping her head to savor the early grasses that grew as far as the eye could see.

“We’re gonna lose the sun soon Sassenach. Are ye ready to ride?”

I climbed on Brimstone like a man, a leg on both sides of her, and signaled a quick canter which put me in the lead for the race home. Jamie stayed behind me all the way to the ridge and I knew it was the protectiveness of my husband and not my superior riding ability. We let the horses walk and cool off for the last mile and rode into Fraser’s Ridge with calls from those who saw us. Calls of welcome and camaraderie that made goosebumps crawl up my spine. I felt a sense of home, as I did the first two years at Lallybroch before the uprising. My smile was obvious, and Jamie took my hand for a moment and kissed it. Jamie would destroy my beautiful rocks in the morning, and I was quite alright with that.

Small houses went up quickly for the men, followed by land clearing for their farming, and building coups for chickens and pens for goats and pigs. By the second year, our house was finished and fancy, acres were cultivated for sprouting seed in the spring, and settlers came to view the land and speak to Jamie about joining the community. It was very slow going as most of them left and never returned. Then, a Highland family spent time with us, met the freed slaves, looked at a plot of land they would call home and shook hands with their new Laird, beaming smiles at their new home. Everyone pitched in to build a home for the young couple and their two children. Faith was overwhelmed with glee seeing tiny people like her. The children were free to explore and play with sixteen sets of eyes on them throughout the day. It was a slice of heaven for them and it often took three or four buckets of water to clean the mud and grime off her before bed.

The first family seemed to break the ice in our burgeoning community and soon there were more families. Some were farmers, some were businesses. By the end of the third year, we had a blacksmith and a tanner, as well as five new families that farmed. I always wondered what I would do to fit in as I did not have any skills other than smiling in front of a camera or walking the wood. From morning until night, I was on my feet doing something crucial that would solve a problem, or tend a task that would feed us for the year to come. I dug my shovel into sprouting barely and spread it across the malting floor of our whisky room, put up tomatoes, beets, peaches, and apples, sealing them for the long winter ahead.

When new settlers came with slaves Jamie would speak to the husband about giving up ownership of his slaves before crossing the line into Fraser’s Ridge. I would watch the exhausted wife smiling as she gazed into a community that would offer her a home and a community to belong to. Eventually, the bills of sale would land in Jamie’s palm and the wagon would roll across the line into Fraser’s Ridge.

Newcomers were put up in our house and I would care for the weary and sometimes wary settlers. Newly freed female slaves had the hardest time and I took extra care to explain Fraser’s Ridge and what their new freedom meant. We built two houses for them, three women in each, and they found work with child care, and cooking, finally showing signs of happiness once the truth of their freedom settled in. There were six women that were brought to the Ridge and freed. In a matter of months, four of them fell in love and were married.

Jamie took me out, deep into the forest to teach me how to shoot the rifle and pistol. I could hardly sleep the night before, finally to be taught to defend myself. I would no longer feel fear when Jamie was away for an extended time and that meant so much to me. We made many trips, just the two of us, and the time was golden because we were alone to explore topics of conversation or take a break in the shade to tease each other or make love. It was a time to be remembered.

One autumn morning, I pulled my cloak against the cold as I returned from the whisky building. There was a package at our door, and I ran to it, excited to see what I had ordered. I cut the string and pulled the cloth open hearing my gasp at such a beautiful bible. It was large, like the family bibles I had seen at Lallybroch and I couldn’t wait to start recording the births and milestones of our family on the ridge. Tonight I will tell Jamie we will welcome another loved child to our family. He was so busy with his duties in the community I don’t think he noticed the three months without a period. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and smiled with anticipation.

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blogsupitssam · 4 years

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Life After Us: The Heir Apparent

Chapter 5: “Hold You When Things Go Wrong”

Note: So since Bloodbound has ended, @drinkwinebymeasure and I be making our own continuation of BB4 whether or not it will ever come back or not. We all know MC and Kamilah are now married and living together in tapestry scene. Now what will be in store for the couple along with moving into a new era? What will they do next? What's gonna happen for the world?

Also Apologies for taking so long, we been having issues to go through and hard times, especially COVID.

If you haven’t read last chapter(s):

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

(Let me or @drinkwinebymeasure if you want to be tagged)

Tag: @kamilah-the-bloodqueen @niceangel890

A month before due date

Kamilah suggests firmly, “I should stay home.”

"Kamilah, you do NOT need to stay with me all the time!" Samantha was adamant in her protests when insisted that she needs to stay home.

"Yes, I do. Your due date is almost here and the baby could be born at any time now. Who is going to take you to the hospital when it is time?" Already her protectiveness and anxiety are clear in Kamilah’s voice.

Samantha sighed, "I can take care of myself! There’s no more morning sickness at least."

"Not if you are in labor," Kamilah would not back down, trying to shut down the argument. Samantha was so stubborn sometimes, but knew she came by it honestly and had been just as stubborn.

Samantha threw her hands up in exasperation. Just because she was pregnant did not mean she could not take care of herself. Even Kamilah had been pushing for Samantha to have Adrian or Lily stay with her.

"Kamilah, my due date is for almost a several weeks; are you really going to stay for the whole time? You should go to work to help provide more and make a living for the children." Samantha again tried to get her Kamilah to be reasonable.

"Samantha, I was with you at the doctor appointment. I heard her say that you could give birth sooner than the due date and a chance that you could not carry the babies to full term. I am here and I am not leaving until after the twins are born. No more arguments, please!" The Eyptian Vampire felt as though she was arguing with a stubborn child.

" I’ll be fine," Samantha replied and smiled weakly at her wife. She made eye contact, knowing that would be enough for Kamilah to back off from any questioning. Just then, the baby moved and Samantha let out a small gasp as she felt the kick in the ribs.

Kamilah's eyes widened for a second and stepped forward, “Samantha ...?”

"That was not nothing, Kamilah," Samantha admonished. Samantha takes her wife's hand and places it on her abdomen.

Kamilah felt the next few kicks and smiled at Samantha. "Oh, the baby is moving again. Does it hurt?"

"Only when it kicks me in the ribs or spine," Samantha smiled back, jokingly even though technically that’s not exactly true.

The only response Samantha gets is Kamilah’s eyes rolling. The Vampire Bloodkeeper sighs and kisses her wife’s lips and hugs the older vampire, effectively shutting down the argument for the night. Wanting to not stress out about the babies and just be together.

Samantha went back to their room and prepared herself for bed. As she lay on the sheets, tears softly rolled down her face. Samantha knew that her body had been through hell, and that she had been told that she could not get pregnant in the subsequent visits. From her trauma, from the horrors she had endured in the past, wanting to find peace and knowing being with Kamilah and now having children has brought her to a life of happiness.

Samantha shook her head, trying to banish the memories and thoughts. Enough of the past, reliving it would not change the decisions she had made. She sat up as a small cramp crossed her abdomen. Oh, god! Every cramp, every small pain in her abdomen, every flutter inside her had nearly sent her into panic mode. She glanced down at her swollen belly and stood up slowly. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the distinct outline of a tiny foot just below her navel. One of the babies was stretching out and pushing against her abdominal wall was the source of the cramp.

Several days later

Samantha placed Kamilah’s plates on the table before suddenly wincing and grabbing her side with a heavy breath. Her wife was instantly at her side, with concern on her face. “Samantha?”

“I’m… f-fine,” the young bloodkeeper breathed. She was hunched over slightly, breathing deeply. Her hand rubbed roughly into her side.

“You’re not,” Kamilah mumbled under her breath, reaching for her.

Samantha lifted her hand to stop her with a weak smile, “I just need to lie down… I’m fine, hun.”

“Saman-”

“Trust me,” she sighed. She turned slowly and waddled from the room to go lie on the couch. Kamilah watches her leave with a frown.

It was clear Samantha was trying to downplay her feelings since her third trimester of the pregnancy. Throughout this process, and bloodkeeper had done so, she minimizes how uncomfortable or in pain she was for Kamilah’s sake. She knew her wife was over protective and she worries too much, due to seeing how hard she struggles, making her look fragile and weak.

Kamilah let out a slight huff and finished the table, moving in slower to ensure Samantha had some time to rest before she bombarded her with questions about what had happened.

The Vampire Queen made her way into the living room, seeing her wife’s round frame laying on the couch. Her eyes were closed as her hands slowly circled her stomach. Samantha looked beautiful; her eyelids shimmers, her lips natural and slightly pouted, her hair parted down the middle with soft waves rolling over her shoulders. Gorgeous.

“My love, are you okay?” Kamilah asked, kneeling next to her resting wife.

Samantha’s eyes fluttered open and looked over at her as a lazy smile grew on her lips, “I’m okay, thank you babe.”

“What happened?”

The Bloodkeeper let out a slight sigh, “The boys was simply moving around. I believe they were ecstatic at the thought of dinner.” Samantha chuckled softly, but Kamilah didn’t share her laughs.

“Did they hurt you?” Kamilah asked. She, of course, wasn’t mad at her sons for what happened. She was more worried; babies were known to break ribs or mess up internal organs, especially most likely having traits of a vampire and that was dangerous for both mother and child.

Samantha frowned, “Kamilah-”

“Samantha, please. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Kamilah pleaded; she grabbed her wife’s hand and brought it to her lips in a short peck before wrapping it in both of her own hands and pulling it into her chest. “Please.”

“I’m sorry… You shouldn’t have to beg to get me to answer you. I am trying. I swear to you, my Queen,” Samantha responded. She rubbed her bump some more, at already 8 months it was definitely noticeable. “Yes, they kicked me and yes, it hurt. They aimed right into my ribs.”

Kamilah let go of the breath she had been holding, “Does it still hurt?”

“No, I’m fine now.” Kamilah eyed her and Samantha laughed lowly, “I promise you. It hurt when it happened, but the pain dulled and is gone now.”

Kamilah ran a hand through Samantha’s hair, a small smile on her lips. “Thanks for telling me, Sam. You can’t downplay all of it.”

“I know, Hun. I will not next time.”

The Egyptian vampire pecked her lips before shifting down her body to be near her round abdomen, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with our princes.”

“Really? Aren’t I your princess?” Samantha laughed joking, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Well if we had a daughter I would, but I say it’s better to address you as My Queen, or…. Perhaps My goddess, My love.”

All that the younger vampire did was roll her eyes with a forming smirk on her.

“Hello, my sons. I’m so happy you’re moving around in there, knowing you’re so strong like the warriors you are, but please for your mother’s sake, be gentle–” she began.

Samantha let out a loud huff, cutting her off. “Kamilah, you’re riling him up. He’s kicking.”

“Already a rule breaker,” Kamilah sighed with a slight smirk. “Where is he kicking?” Samantha rested her hand on the spot which was on her lower right side and Kamilah was thankful it was away from her ribs this time. The brunette rubbed the spot and her wife hummed in content, her eyes closing. Kamilah smiled at the little nudges that hit her palm and kept her soothing touches going.

“They love your voice,” Samantha murmured. “Always moving around when you talk.”

“Should I stop?” Kamilah asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Oh god, no,” the bloodkeeper retorted, her eyes still closed. “I think they may be settling down now.”

Kamilah nodded, she felt zero kicks against her hand. “Guess my circles put them to sleep?”

“You’re about to put me to sleep as well,” Samantha replied, opening one eye to look at her with a slight grin.

“Sorry, babe. We have dinner to get to,” Kamilah chuckled, standing up from her crouched position.

Samantha smiled up at her and held out her hand, “Would you please help me up?”

“Of course my love,” Kamilah replied, helping her wife to her feet gently and pulling her into a warm hug. Samantha kissed her chin and settled into her embrace, her bump not allowing her to get as close as she liked. “Wait… is something burning?”

“Oh God!” Samantha yelped, ripping out of her wife’s embrace to rush to the kitchen.

They ended up getting takeout due to the horribly burnt meal they had slaved over all day and all of a sudden Samantha is craving something else. Despite another one of their dates going haywire, they were happy.

Later that night

The couple lay together; Samantha was laying on her left side, one of the few positions she was comfortable in. Her brown eyes never left her wife's face. Kamilah sat up in bed, her laptop on her lap as she typed away, preparing the schedule for an upcoming meeting. Samantha continued to look at her lovingly as a hand rubbed Kamilah’s thigh soothingly under the covers.

Kamilah’s once serious and concentrated face cracked a small smile and she looked down at her wife. “You’re staring, babe. Something wrong? I was just scheduling for my incoming meeting.”

“Nothing at all. You’re just beautiful and I love you. I feel the luckiest woman ever.”

“I love you too, but I was gonna say you’re the beautiful one and I’m the lucky one.”

Samantha smiled brightly at her comment, “I haven’t been feeling beautiful as of late, so thank you for still thinking so.”

“What?” Kamilah questioned, her face filling with concern. She closed her laptop and set it on her nightstand.

The young vampire shrugged, pulling the covers up around her more. “This pregnancy has not done much for my self confidence, especially the past few weeks. The swelling, the stretch marks, the added weight everywhere. I just don’t recognize my body anymore, but I hope i’ll be able to be thin again. I’m so thankful for it and for the babies, but I feel less than beautiful, Honey.”

Kamilah listened to her wife, quietly absorbing her words. The brunette knew this pregnancy had been far from a cake walk physically and emotionally, but didn’t think of the mental toll it could take as well. Samantha’s body had changed a lot and Kamilah could see why she was feeling insecure in her appearance.

“You’re stunning, my queen. Everything about you then and now is beautiful. I’m really sorry that you don’t think you are right now, but please believe me when I tell you that every piece of you whether it not be the same size, or is swollen, or covered in stretch marks is beautiful. I love you, Samantha.”

The bloodkeeper looked at her wife with shining eyes, “Thank you.”

The Egyptian Vampire wasn’t done though; she smothered her wife’s face in soft kisses, making her giggle. She kissed her forehead, “God you’re the most beautiful flower.” Kamilah then moved her energy to her wife’s lips, “You’re so perfect to me, god.”The senior vampire breathed, capturing them in another love filled kiss. Samantha accepted every kiss with a wide smile and a laugh, feeling truly comforted by every caress of Kamilah’s lips to her skin. Her wife always knew how to make her feel beautiful and loved, even when her own mind got the better of her.

“I love you, Kamilah.”

“And I love you too. You’re so beautiful.”

“You make me feel beautiful, inside and out.”

“Because you are beautiful, inside and out,” Kamilah replied, tucking Samantha’s hair behind her ear, kissing her tenderly.

Samantha chuckled at her wife softly, placing another kiss to her lips. “You’re still so adorable, even after all this time.”

Kamilah smiled broadly, cuddling into her wife, “And I’ll be for you for many centuries to come.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” Samantha sighed dreamily, holding onto her wife.

“I don’t know what I would do without you either, I am forever your Queen,” Kamilah replied, kissing her cheek. The wives held onto each other for a long while, still enjoying the feeling of each other’s skin. Their close proximity was a little cramped due to Samantha’s bump, but they couldn’t wait to have their sons join in on their cuddle time.

Next Day

“Thanks for hanging out with me Lily. It’s been a bit lonely since Kamilah has to stay in Ahmanet longer than usual today.”

“It’s all good Bestie. I was missing you so much. How could I say no.”

After an hour and a half of watching some TV shows they could find on Netflix, "I'm going to go to that restaurant near here and get us some dessert," Lily said before readying herself to leave."Are you sure you will be ok?" she asked.

"Of course, it wouldn’t take you too long anyways," Samantha responds with a nod, “Besides, I’m still really tired, I don’t feel like walking right now.”

Lily nods, “Ok, I'll just take 10 minutes.” The purple hair vampire say before closing the door behind her.

Samantha felt herself beginning to nod off for what has felt like more than 10 minutes when whispers outside her door caught her attention. Quietly getting off the couch and walking that way, she stopped when he could understand the whispers. "I swear, she just left like 15 minutes ago. We'll break in, take the bloodkeeper and leave. Piece of cake."

Samantha immediately bolted through the door while holding a hand on her pregnant belly. Desperately looking around, she had no other idea, but with seconds she had grabbed one of the hidden daggers that she kept and was gifted from her wife. There was nowhere to take cover, and no chance in a fight against more than one person if she waited for them and due to her condition.

Taking a breath with no other choice of trying to protect herself and her unborn children inside her as she closes her eyes for a second before her dark eyes turn bleeding red. She brings up her free hand, remembering her training from Kano, she readies herself with a psychic blast in her palm.

Right when the first person kicks the door open, she sees a woman dressed in black fatigues with a mask covering her face, a sword in hand and Samantha did not hesitate to throw the psychic blast, throwing the figure back, hitting a wall that formed cracks from the impact.

Two more come in, but not before the bloodkeeper uses her telekinesis, moving several objects to hit them.. They would be hesitant now, and that would hopefully buy Samantha the time she needed as she quickly gets her phone to call Kamilah.

When another figure comes in, she has a crossbow and points it at her, but the bolt was stopped before it even flew halfway by the telekinesis while quickly reaching out to get her phone with the adrenaline, trying to dial the number as fast as possible.

As she holds the phone up to her ear, she hears stomps as the figure she was just dealing with trying to resist the psychic push against her, getting closer.

When suddenly, Samantha starts to feel a very sharp pain in her stomach, “No…. No.. Not.. Now!” Clenching her jaw, her teeth grinding.

“SUrrender or else. Don’t… Make this difficult Bitch!” The enemy finally says something.

Samantha’s energy feels like she’s about to shut down. Her eyes start to blur, her head starts to spin, the arm she uses to do her telekinesis against the figure lowers down slowly while her other hand on her stomach.

Please be strong for me babies, just a little longer…

Her body falls onto her knees, but she’s trying to keep herself up from falling all the way down.

Right when her telekinesis weakens the enemy figures that she has the chance before her eyes widen open suddenly, a bolt pierce through from the back of her forehead.

The Young Bloodkeeper eyes fluttering close, about to fall on the ground before she feels a pair of arms stop her from falling and a familiar voice saying her name ”Samantha!” that she could barely hear as darkness covers her vision to black.

#mc x kamilah #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #lily spencer #blogsupitssamfanfics #adrian raines #BloodBound #bloodbound mc #bloodbound fanfic

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viewfrommybroomcloset · 5 years

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“Bien Dans Sa Peau” Weight Loss Spell Jar

Basil (discipline)

Bay (strength, protection)

Chickweed (weight loss, healing)

Dill (attraction, weight loss)

Juniper Berry (protection against illness and injury)

Japanese Hawkweed (longevity—can be substituted with dandelion as they are related)

Red sealing wax for determination and passion in your goal

I won’t write the full spell, as it was a very personal meditation, but I will emphasize that however you do your ritual, you build into your spell “healthy weight loss.” You don’t want to leave out the healthiness clause, because weight loss can occur through illness and injury (also why I included juniper berry, but use the words too).

I cast this spell on the morning of the lunar new year in February, weighing 160 lbs. I worked hard and stopped losing at 154, turns out I had some hormonal difficulties that needed to be fixed (I’m someone who can’t eat soy—AT ALL). After removing soy from my food intake, the weight loss continued (with less exercise effort and fewer sugar cravings).

The name “Bien Dans Sa Peau” means “comfortable in one’s own skin.” Because we all have images of ourselves we like and want, I wanted this spell to be more about self love and self care. Finding the peace in making healthy choices and being happy in the resulting weight. I’ve used this spell to both release emotional burdens that can sometimes make me find comfort in food and also in doing inner child work to inspire self love.

Like with any spell, you’ll need to actively help yourself along. I’ve been following the “French Women Don’t Get Fat” book—trying to slowly, gently lose some pounds after finishing with breastfeeding last winter. It’s a fabulous book, I highly recommend it. I learned so much of the things she talks about when I lived in France, but the recipes and personal stories were what drew me to reading it!

The basic premise is to eat more vegetables and fruits than anything else, but don’t cut out any foods (enjoy your chocolate, wine, and cheese like a French woman), but take portion size into account. Exercise doesn’t have to be in the gym—going for walks or a swim for an hour three times a week (I try for every day) is perfectly adequate for health. This spell jar acted as a talisman to help with cravings, reminded me to go for walks, and helped me resist overindulging.

I’m now down to 148 lbs in August and still feeling great. My spell jar fell out of my pocket a few weeks ago, so I’ll be doing a renewal on the next new moon, resetting my intentions. As a cottage witch, I like to grow as many of the herbs and plants as possible that I use in my practice. Make sure your herbs are fully dried, before making your spell jar, or they’ll rot!

Happy casting ✨

For my height, I, personally, want to be in a certain BMI and small, healthy YES HEALTHY, ways I’ve worked my way toward it has been:

eating more fruits and vegetables

Cooking more meals from scratch

Taking 30 minute - 2 hour walks most days (jogging when I feel up to it)

Drinking more water

Subbing honey for sugar in coffee

And taking the time to enjoy my food in smaller portions than I got used to doing while pregnant and breastfeeding

All of these are HEALTHY things to do to reach a weight/place where I feel comfortable in my own skin. This spell jar has been my reminder to put my health first over convenience, indulgence, and to stop using food as an anti-depressant (therapy is a good idea if you’re struggling with this). IT IS NOT WRONG TO WANT TO BE A DIFFERENT WEIGHT. Please stop projecting your issues onto my post. I want to leave the comments open for healthy discussion and questions, but will turn them off if need be.

Update: I’m down to 129 and am feeling so good about myself all the way around! I suggest adding in rose quartz and opalite chips and meditating on self love if you’re struggling with this. Consider building in a stress-free clause into your injury/illness clause too—just to be safe 💖

** The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition.

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greatcreatorpeace · 3 years

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Download Hcgdr Simeon`s Pounds And Inches Free

## Pounds And Inches Pocket Reference Simeons Manuscript With Charts Checklists And Resources For The Hcg Diet ## Uploaded By Stephen King, pounds and inches pocket reference simeons manuscript with charts checklists and resources for the hcg diet nov 08 2020 posted by seiichi morimura media publishing text id 51075a146. Below you can download the original Dr Simeons Manuscript Pounds And Inches, Jut click on the blue link below and the PDF will Download. Simply fill out the quick form below to get a free download of Dr. Simeons’ Manuscript called Pounds & Inches A NEW APPROACH TO OBESITY.

by Updated : Nov 29, 2019 in Art

HCG DIET SIMEONS POUNDS AND INCHES PDF

Looking to find out more information about the HCG Diet? Get a free PDF version of Dr. Simeons’ Manuscript Pounds and Inches: A New Approach to Obesity. This book, popularly known as “Pounds and Inches,” contains the original HCG diet protocol, as created by Dr. A.T.W. Simeons. Dr. Simeons’ Pounds and Inches . HCG Diet Weight Loss Guide Book Protocol Pounds & Inches by Dr. A. T. W. Simeons (in its entirety) – Kindle edition by Dr. A.T.W. Simeons. Download it once .

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HCG Phase 3 Information: Dinner The same four choices as the lunch menu listed above.

If you are up more inchds 2. Just make sure to avoid any heavy weight lifting or strenuous activity. During all of Maintenance and even after, you need to continue to weigh yourself every day.

Through working with our customers, we have found this phase to be unnecessary and therefore completely optional. Your vegetable and protein must be eaten together at meal times. It will provide you with a basic understanding of what the diet entails. Get a free PDF version of Dr. In fact, you should aim to drink 2 liters of water per VLCD day, in addition to any other liquid. Now, you should be craving healthier foods and a diet full of healthy fats, lean proteins, and fresh veggies.

Dr. Simeons Manuscript Free Download

Transition off hCG Diet: I’m simply a mom sharing what has worked for myself and others. In fact, it is discouraged unless you have been on an exercise routine for 6 weeks or longer before starting the Pounds and Inches Away plan.

Tanning is discouraged during the VLCD as it can cause water retention and affect weight loss. I cannot open the copy up! Thank you a lot! The next morning when you weigh in, you should be back within 2 lbs of your supplement date weight. It was not part of Dr. Theses can help give you daily examples of how to eat.

Looking to find out more information about the HCG Diet?

Leave a Reply Cancel reply Your email address will not be published. Exercise is not required on the diet. Notify me of new posts by email.

Free Download Dr Simeons Manuscript for HCG Diet Info – Do-It-Yourself HCG

The first three weeks, you can eat anything you like except absolutely nothing can contain sugars or starches carbs. Only one tablespoonful of milk allowed in 24 hours. In the first few days of the diet, you may experience slight headaches. Send me the info now. The same four choices as the lunch menu listed above. Enjoy our free download of Dr. Notify me of follow-up comments by email.

Hcg Diet Pounds And Inches

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Life after the Pounds and Inches Away diet… This is when you move on with your new, healthy post-diet lifestyle in your smaller clothes. Simeons warned about not […]. Any content on hcgchica.

Dr Simeon Hcg

Massage and other spa treatments are also discouraged during the VLCD because they can interfere with weight loss. A Steak Day is a day when you eat nothing for breakfast or lunch, but drink plenty of fluids throughout the day.

Click below and start exploring more now The chicken breast must be off the bone. Even though there ARE some modifications that many are making to the original protocol that Dr. Here you will find several weeks of sample menus for all phases of the HCG Diet including gorge days, Phase 2, and Phase 3.

Simeons’ Pounds & Inches Manuscript

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Simply, click here to view Dr. It is your responsibility to speak with your physician about anything medical related. We also hc Phase 3 approved protein shakes, protein bars, supplements, etc.

Just wanted to thank you a lot for the website! Here you will find the summary of phase 2 and information on side effects, the phase 2 food list, stall breakers, tips, tricks, and much more! I am NOT a medical professional in any way, shape or form.

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I got the recipes and a program with what I should do, did a bioimpedance and that was it. Your Gorge Days are also a simeonx opportunity to eat anything that you think you might crave in the next month during the VLCD. Simeons’ full manuscript, you will learn a lot of the science behind how the hormone works within your smieons to cause the fast weight loss.

If you read Dr. An apple or a handful of strawberries or one-half grapefruit or 1 orange.

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