#fireside ventures

[larsisfrommars]

The Light Won't Die (Part 3)

Halsin x Tav

Rating: E for Everyone

Chapter: 3/??? (<- Prev Chapter • Next Chapter)

Word Count: 1401

Genre: Adventure, Hurt/Comfort

Content: Halsin x Tav, Male!Tav, Fighter!Tav, more grappling with PTSD, someone let Shadowheart have too much wine, hc Karlach is Tav's 2nd in command, cliffhanger

"The group was ready to move on, save for one Druid. He knelt, staring intently into the empty eye sockets of the tragic traveler. As if searching for something, recognition. As if he could reconstruct a familiar face from the contours of the humanoid skull."

———————✨🌿✨———————

“Stay close to me! Keep your torches lit!” Tav commanded, the party obliged as their crew band of eight tread carefully through the beginnings of Shadow Cursed Lands.

They were every bit as grim and grueling as the Druid had warned. Still they were well warded against the gnawing darkness. Between two strategically placed Daylight spells cast upon weapons courtesy of Halsin and Shadowheart, and The Blood of Lathander which bolstered their torches. Even when Wizards with bad knees straggled behind or overeager Barbarians bounded ahead.

Still, it did not eliminate the possibility of attack. With Moonrise Towers looming gloomily in the distance as a constant reminder. Though perhaps it did leave room for some curiosity.

“Something over there.” Tav muttered signaling the rest of the group to follow.

It was the scraps of a campsite, a very old one at that. A failed solitary venture into this accursed place. The skeleton was completely bare of flesh, any weapons or armor it had carried long since picked over or shredded, despite the unsettling lack of living animals in the area. Still, perhaps there was something worth scrounging for by way of torches or provisions, maybe even some magic if they were lucky.

And so they were, to a degree, they made short work of sifting through old rotten rations and scraps of cloth to pocket a modicum of coin, tools, even a few potion ingredients. Not that’d there’d be a place to sell such things for a while yet.

The group was ready to move on, save for one Druid. He knelt, staring intently into the empty eye sockets of the tragic traveller. As if searching for something, recognition. As if he could reconstruct a familiar face from the contours of the humanoid skull.

“You alright Halsin? I’d say let’s Speak With the Dead if you’re curious but uh, I hear it doesn’t work well on skeletons.” Tav called back from a pile of freshly emptied crates.

“This is true.” Halsin replied absently “Perhaps we shouldn’t dawdle. I suspect there may be Blights about, if memory serves.”

The great elf stood up, pocketing the small tattered book that laid beside the remains. Ready to move forward, Tav noticed but said nothing. Halsin had asked for no share of the pickings, the Druid was entitled to a bit of light reading. Maybe he would glean something from the text they could not.

It was not too much longer before a weariness worsened by the curse bade them make camp. Torches around every tent, and a fire at its heart. Tav hoped it would be enough, it seemed every edge of the camp had something shadowy skittering just beyond his line of sight. It was unnerving, he prayed it was just the stress of the day.

They ate and drank well; wine, bread, sausages, fruit, and so on. However, normal fireside chatter was dampened by the warning their first encounter with a shadow curse victim bore. Save for that of one particular party member.

“I know it’s rather, intense” Shadowheart continued, after perhaps a little too much wine. “but you cannot deny there is a certain beauty to the depth of silence here, the weight of the shadows. The Mistress of The Night has total control here. She has blessed me with the ability to walk safely through it, to ease you all safely through it. The Lady of Sorrows will guide us towards the answers we seek, I’m sure. She rewards all who appreciate her dark embrace.”

“Well, at least someone’s chipper.” Karlach muttered in a mixture of amusement and exasperation, finishing off the last of evening’s rationed bottles.

Most of the group chose to humor or to ignore her, politely listening or getting distracted among their own conversations. Tav strove to be the former, hoping for some nugget of truth or doubt in her recitation of words that did not seem like her own. Yet he found himself capable of neither. For he wasn’t the only one who could neither sit and listen to her impromptu sermon, nor bring himself to make conversation.

Was Halsin… scowling? The Archdruid had been withdrawn, brooding even, ever since they’d left that body behind. Flipping through the pages of that book he’d found on the day’s hike toward Moonrise. Perhaps he should say something about it to him.

Perhaps it was too late.

“If it is all the same to you. I think I have heard enough of the virtues of Lady Shar for one evening. Good night.” Halsin growled sharply.

Though he had not raised his voice nor spoken to the Cleric directly. The rest of the party was shocked into silence. Even Shadowheart had snapped out of her wine-addled religious reverie. Her expression soured into an ineffable wall of inner turmoil. The Druid had given no inkling of his distress to anyone save for Tav… until now.

“You alright bear man?” Karlach asked gently.

Halsin’s expression flickered with the faintest hint of regret before hardening into frustration. Unable to form a reply, he gave a heavy sigh, and meandered away to his own tent.

Tav couldn’t bring himself to leave well enough alone. He shot Shadowheart an exasperated glance, and Karlach an apologetic one for leaving her alone with the tension. Still, finding himself uncaring as to whether either were received as his feet willed him towards Halsin’s tent for the second evening in a row.

This time he’d knock, given what happened last time he approached the Druid’s tent unannounced, especially now that they were in this wretched place.

“Halsin? Can I come in?”

No answer, better if he’d leave then.

“Please.”

Halsin’s voice betrayed a mountain of emotions so grand Tav could not possibly name them all.

So once more Tav’s reflexes won the day as he near instantly slipped inside. In Halsin’s lap was the tattered journal he had found. It was open to what seemed its final passage, damp droplets smearing its last writings somewhat.

“His name was Saryn.” Halsin rumbled, his voice thick with grief, as it had been in the Mountain Pass.

Everything snapped into place, the book, the body, the concern over Blight presence, the outburst by the campfire. It was all so painfully obvious in hindsight. That sorry sight of a corpse was one of the Halsin’s own. He felt stupid for not seeing it sooner.

“I pleaded him not to come to this cursed place, not alone. I warned him of its danger and still he left. He was barely an initiate at the Grove… I could have stopped him. I had it in my power.” Halsin let out a ragged sigh, opening his clasped paw to reveal a tattered emblem of Silvanus. All that remained of the fallen’s long since decayed armor.

Tav wanted so badly to touch him, to be of some warmth or comfort in this terrible place. A place that brought this man more pain than any magic could neither inflict nor heal. He’d draw it out of him with his bare hands like poison from a wound if he could. But he feared any attempt would break the spell of Halsin’s confidence in him in this fragile moment.

“It takes an old fool to make as many mistakes as I have. Too many times now have I been made to abandon those in most need of me… but no longer.” Halsin’s fist tightened around the emblem once more, broad shoulders trembling with barely bridled emotion.

Halsin opened his eyes now, agitated, gold skittering across hazel-grey. Not quite ready to look upon his abiding and quietly watchful companion. Who had since come to kneel beside him.

He let out a deep, slow breath, back straightening. His rigidity from the past few nights having melted away into something much more familiar to Tav from the Archdruid, confidence.

They’re eyes finally met, a warmth there where once there’d been a wall of painful memories.

“But I have allies now.” He concluded, “Greater than any I had before. A pocket of light against the darkness, and a welcome one. I fear I could not survive without it.”

The first genuine smile Tav had seen bloom across the wood elf’s face since they’d approached this awful place felt enough to banish any lingering affects the Shadow Curse could or would ever befall Tav again. He reached to take Halsin’s hands in his own.

“Shit!”

Fun Fact!: The inciting incident is not only the inspiration for this entire fic but it's something you can actually find in Act 2 and I just thought of how mortifying it would be if Halsin could've been with you when you find it!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 halsin #halsin x tav #halsin x male tav #halsin x reader #halsin x male reader #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #shadowheart #bg3 shadowheart #jenevelle hallowleaf #karlach #bg3 karlach #karlach cliffgate

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Seven.

Last update until after Christmas, guys. I guess this gives anyone wishing to catch up a chance to do so, but I must confess that if reads and engagement are still dwindling, the story will likely be discontinued. I don't want to do that really, but I'm not being left with much choice. Working hard on creating something that went from a lot of initial interest to barely any at all is soul destroying for a writer. I appreciate the few people who are committed to it enormously, though.

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,739

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Well, it looks as if the roads are quite passable now.” Looking at John, she snorted a laugh. It was not the news he’d been hoping to hear.  

“Can’t you go and, I dunno, move a load more snow over ‘em, so we don’t have to go anywhere?”  

Oh, the bubble they had fallen into over the past few days. Neither truly wanted to burst it by venturing out from within the four walls of Georgian House. They’d spent most of their time naked, either enjoying one another on a sexual level, or simply warming themselves at the fireside while they’d talked for hours on end. Reality, though, it had to come knocking eventually. 

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she raised a curious eyebrow. “What, I am to go out there and shunt the snowbanks back into every single road running through Birmingham?” 

“Yes,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the front door. “Go on, hop to it.”  

Her laugh filled the hallway, curling her fingers at his neck. “You do amuse me, my darling. There is nothing to stop us from coming back here later on. I would like another night with you until my rescheduled work engagements fill up the rest of my week.”  

“Yeah,” he breathed, kissing her forehead, “I’m gonna have all that to focus on an’ all. All the races will have been cancelled cos’ of the weather, but we have other things going on I’ll need to be about for.” Those things included words he hadn’t wanted to let into his mind for the last four days since his arrival in Little Aston, such as the Rasmussen’s, and his taking Bryn back to Small Heath to introduce her to his family in order to discuss her own difficulties with them.  

“Come, let us depart, then.”  

His face was not in agreement with those words. “Do we have to leave right now?” 

“You called your brother, and he is back from Warwickshire, yes?” 

“Yeah, he is.” 

“Then we should not keep him waiting. It is rude, and I pride myself on being polite.” 

He grumbled in protest. “I wanted to do something before we did.” He watched her cock her head slightly, his hands wandering over the contours of her body through her long, black skirt. “I really fancy burying me face between your legs for so long, you forget what I look like.”  

He winked, and she felt her stomach flutter. “I could never forget a face so handsome, but by all means, you may do that to me later on.” 

Biting his lip, he smirked, eyes touring her. “You sure not now?” 

The devilment within him. It would be the death of her, if she were not dead already. “Coat and boots. Now. Your family already distrust me. I am not about to give them another reason to stack against me before I have even crossed their threshold.” 

That threshold was reached at just past 6pm, Bryn stepping from the car as John took her arm, reaching to open the front door. His arm pulled from hers as he stepped inside, her body rooted to the spot.  

Polly’s words the previous week returned to him in an instant. “Ah, yeah I have to invite you in, don’t I?” She nodded. “Won’t you please come in, you ridiculously beautiful woman.” Stepping into the small house, it had a very cosy feel to it, the fire crackling away, evidence of someone having been sitting there, that someone coming hurtling in from the back room.  

“Daddy!” 

“Hello, pige.” Scooping his daughter up, John kissed her cheek, Katie cuddling up to him tightly as her eyes took in Bryn, who beamed brightly. “What’s this you’ve got on your head, eh?” Gesturing to the wire hanger that had been fashioned, little sequins wrapped around along with paper flowers, he laughed when she batted his hand away with a scowl. 

“It’s my crown!” Her finger then pointed at Bryn. “Daddy is this your new lady friend?”  

He grinned, nodding. “Yeah, pige. This is Brynhild, but you can call her Bryn, like I do.” 

Immediately, she scrambled from his arms. “Hello, Bryn! My name is princess Katie.”  

Bryn took to her like a duck to water, placing a hand to her chest with a small gasp. “What, you mean to tell me I am meeting the princess Katie of Small Heath?” The child nodded, tucking her chin a little shyly for a moment. “I am thrilled to make your acquaintance, your majesty.” Katie looked thrilled as Bryn bobbed in a neat curtsy, giggling before launching herself to hug her legs, the vampire lifting her into her arms. “This is a very, very pretty crown.” 

“Thanks! I made it, aunt Polly helped but then she got glue on her skirt and said it was a bugger, so I did the rest.” 

“Oi, you want smacked legs?” John admonished, pinching her cheek. “Less of the swearing, eh?” 

“But Polly said it!” Turning then, she found interest in Bryn’s tattoos, her fingers trailing the lines. “Did you paint these on? Do they come off?” 

“No, little princess. I did not paint them on and no, they do not come off.”  

“Is it like what uncle Tommy has on his arm? A two two?” 

“A tattoo, yes,” she softly corrected, Katie’s fingers reaching to begin playing with the strings of pearls around her neck. 

“Where are you from? Your voice is all funny. You don’t talk like we do.” A little more pearl playing went on, Katie studying her intently. “You’re very pretty.” 

“Why thank you. Such a compliment, and from royalty too, no less. As for where I am from, I come from a country called Norway.”  

Her little head of blonde curls swung around to view her father. “Can we go one day, daddy? Can you drive us there?”  

He laughed, taking her back from Bryn. “Not unless cars can suddenly cross water, pige. Now let’s get you off to bed.” 

“But I want to say up and talk to Bryn!” Ahh, he knew she’d probably be difficult, confronted with a new person. She likely already had designs on bringing down her doll collection to proudly show off. 

“I will come and see you again soon, princess Katie. This I promise.” Bryn vouched, rubbing her nightdress covered thigh affectionately. A few more protests were given before John took her up, coming back to walk Bryn through to the backroom, where there waiting were Tommy, Arthur and Polly.  

“Everyone, this is Brynhild. Bryn, this is Arthur, Tommy and Polly.”  

Studying them, she made her usual quick assessments, walking first to Tommy. He looked a little stiff, but was certainly the least frosty of the three.  

“A pleasure.” She offered her hand, Tommy hesitating only for a second, the echoes of screams that had sounded long ago sharp again within his mind before he shook it. He noticed it as soon as his skin pressed to hers, the ancient power that radiated from her.  

She seemed confident and polite, a civilised woman. It did not mean she truly was, though. Whatever sorcery she’d obviously worked on John, he wouldn’t be so quick to succumb, but he would give her a fair chance all the same.  

“Polly, hello.” Here she was met with much more coolness, the matriarch of the family lifting her chin as she took a step back, Bryn hearing her heartbeat escalate. She withdrew her hand after a few moments, certain it was not about to be shook. “I am not what your grandmother told you we are.”  

“You’ll keep my grandmother’s name out of your mouth, if it’s all the same to you.”  

“Pol, knock it on the head,” John warned, his brow creasing. 

“No, I bloody won’t,” she protested, although her eyes did not leave Bryn for a second. Her jaw clenched as she swallowed hard, trying to remain rocklike in the presence of a creature she’d been warned never to trust, no matter what. Bryn saw it, though, the way the curls framing her face gently fluttered from her trembles. “But I will at least listen to what she has to say.” 

“Well, I flamin’ won’t,” Arthur began, brandishing a large, silver knife as Bryn turned to him. “Don’t you fucking come anywhere near me!”  

“Arthur, put the knife down,” Tommy spoke, his tone quiet yet strong.  

“I will not.” 

Bryn turned, moving to take a seat at the table beside John. “If he wishes to arm himself for his own peace of mind, then I shall not object.”  

“Ain’t like you couldn’t take it from him faster than he could blink,” John snorted, resting a hand to her thigh, remembering how she’d done the very same to him. While Polly studied the ease he displayed while interacting with the shadow walker, Arthur was becoming tighter wound by the second.  

“I suppose if you’re fine with it,” Tommy began, lighting a cigarette. “Now, let’s get right to business, shall we? You want us to offer you protection in the daylight hours from the Rasmussen’s, should they ever get wind of your whereabouts.” 

“That is correct,” Bryn confirmed. 

“And what do we get out of it, apart from monetary recompense?” Taking a drag on his cigarette, his eyes narrowed a fraction. “The Peaky Blinders aren’t exactly short of a bob or two already, so I want to know what else it is that you can provide me with, in the interests of making it worth my while to trust a shadow walker.” 

John had mentioned how shrewd he could be. “It would be a regular, large sum of legitimate cash, for one thing. Bodyguarding services do not need to be hidden from the books, or laundered by other means as I know you have to with some of your more, ah, shadowed activities, shall we say. Then there is the fact that the Rasmussen’s do not play fair when it comes to a fight. I could give you the means to not just level the playing field, but level them, also. You know what they are, I am correct in thinking?” 

He nodded singularly. “Vampire hunters. John told us, yes.”  

“And you know why specifically they are hunting me?” 

“I do, for your blood. Somewhat hypocritical, if you ask me. Trying to wipe out your kind, but only too happy to drink your blood in order to harness a little of your strength for themselves.” 

Her mouth upturned, a smile spreading. “I have often thought much the same. In light of this, know that in physical combat, you shall never beat them as it stands. Outwitting them too shall prove difficult, for the advantage they hold. What I can offer to you is what they seek. My blood.  

“It will sharpen you both mentally and physically, far more than they. Whatever vampire they have within their clutches at present whom they are using for their blood source, they are nowhere near as old or strong as I. If you have that, Tommy, you have everything. The advantage will be yours.”  

His eyes widened a fraction at the suggestion, Bryn turning to John. “Show him, darling.”  

He stood, placing his hand beneath her chair before lifting it clean in the air above his head, his arm not even wobbling, no sign of any strain upon his face.  

“Holy shit,” Polly exclaimed, her eyes snapping from the sight to Tommy, who’s interest had just piqued by several notches.  

“And why the fuck have you been doing something so fucking vile as drinking her blood, eh? That’s fucking disgusting. Shame on ya!” Arthur raged, watching as his brother set the vampire down again neatly.  

John sniffed casually, looking at Bryn with a wink. “I had my reasons. I could tell you, but you’d probably shit a lung in disgust.” Being able to fuck for hours on end. Having the feeling of a million stars shooting through his bloodstream. Orgasms that rocked his foundations to rubble. Being able to feel her there connected to him, on a level that went beyond what they as mere humans could otherwise comprehend. No. Arthur likely wouldn’t take fondly to hearing such candid verbatim.  

Tommy cleared his throat. “And how much did you have in mind, monetary speaking?” 

“Are we just going to fucking sit here and ignore that this... this... evil witch creature has our bloody brother under some kind of spell, or what?” Arthur raged, thumping his hand on the table before the chair screeched out from under him, rising to his feet rapidly.  

“I am no witch, Arthur,” Bryn commented softly.  

John snorted with laughter. “Could’ve fooled me, bab.” The wink he directed at Bryn left nobody in any doubt over exactly what he alluded to. 

“Shut the fuck up, John! Just because you’ve decided to start shagging the fuck out of a corpse, it don’t mean we’ve got to be alright with it!” 

The mood in the room changed drastically, John shooting his eldest brother a dangerous glare. “The fuck did you just call her?” 

“Technically he’s right,” Bryn spoke casually, looking over at Arthur with a small smirk. “However, you shouldn’t knock it until you’ve tried it. If there is one place we truly come alive, it is in the bedroom.” She then winked at John, feeling his temper deflate in an instant. He did nothing to hide his grin and snort of laughter, his reaction only further exasperating Arthur.  

“Revolting,” he began, swinging his pointed finger then towards Bryn. “And you, you fucking vile piece of filth, are a goddamned abomination!” 

Bryn was prepared to take a lot in order to help her cause, also to smooth any tensions that her love’s family might’ve still harboured now that she was involved romantically with him. Being called an abomination was where she drew a definitive line, though.  

Her growl rattled through the room, every person bar John feeling the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end. “You will never call me that again.”  

“Listen to it, listen!” he raged, gesturing with both hands, his eyes widening. “Fucking growling, like the beast it is!”  

“Arthur,” John warned, “don’t bloody push her. She’s gentle as a sparrow, but if you light a match under her fucking temper, I ain’t putting myself between you and the explosion.”  

His mannerisms became jerky as anger and fear flooded his blood, thrusting a pointed finger in Bryn’s direction. “I will not share air with that fucking devil creature!” 

“That is fine, Arthur. For I do not need to breathe.” She was hanging onto her desire to exit her seat and pin him to the nearest wall, fangs bared, by the skin of those very teeth. Out of respect for John and nothing more, she remained seated. John, her darling, he who had just broken the tension in the air somewhat by snorting with laughter at her words.  

“John boy, this ain’t funny!” 

“Oh, it fucking is though, Arthur. You ranting and raving like a bloody lunatic about how vicious and murderous she’s supposed to be, and she’s just sitting there quietly, taking every ounce of your shit while you show yourself up good an’ proper.” Leaning back in his seat, he shook his head, still rumbling with his chuckles. “Give it a rest, eh?”  

“Give it a rest?” His spat statement was accompanied by a fine mist of saliva sprayed into the air, his hair becoming unruly as he dragged his fingers through it. “Oh ar, yeah let’s all give it a rest and let her think we’ve dropped our guard. Then she’d bring her friends along and it’ll be the Black Patch all over again!” 

John remained calm, chewing his toothpick with nonchalance. “You’re going to give yourself a funny turn, you are.” 

“You didn’t see it, John boy! You didn’t see people ripped apart, their throats torn out, you didn’t...” His words trailed off, eyes snapping to Bryn as she stood, making a start to walk towards him. “Don’t you bloody come near me! Don’t you...” He reached for the knife, but in his haste sent it clattering to the floor, Bryn upon him before he had chance to retrieve it.  

“Shhhhh,” she soothed, reaching for his face, clasping it between her hands, Arthur struggling. 

“Get your fucking hands off me!” 

“Shhhhh, Arthur. Come now.” She’d been pushed to anger before by his verbal tirade, but looking at him, really studying the man whose face she held, thumbs gently stroking his cheeks, she saw it. His outburst was not prompted by any hatred. It was all fear. He was terrified of her. Just like she had done with John upon their first meet, Bryn held his face, transmitting her energy to him, soothing him. He fought against it, though. 

“Get off, stop it. Fucking stop it!” 

He began to crack, embarrassed, frightened tears pooling his eyes, Arthur ashamed to let her witness them sliding down his cheeks. He remained rigid as she pulled him close. “There, there. You are not that frightened little boy any longer, Arthur. You are a strong man, a capable man, one who fought for king and country. There is no need for all this anguish. I do not seek to hurt you.” 

At last, she felt his muscles slacken, surprised to feel his arms wrap around her as he sobbed silently into the soft pelt of her coat. It took him by surprise, the feeling of sudden waves of calm pouring into him, there in the arms of the creature he had considered to be nothing short of the purest evil to ever exist. She fed upon the blood of the living, a shadow residing beast of unimaginable power and darkness, but there in her arms, Arthur felt the kind of safe comfort he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.  

He couldn’t discount that. 

The whole room remained silent, John raising an eyebrow and nodding at the scene as he and Tommy exchanged glances, the former mouthing ‘told you’ with a satisfied grin. Where Tommy looked to be more accepting of the sight before him, Polly remained stern, her face not cracking whatsoever.  

“Are you composed now?” Bryn asked, pulling back to wipe Arthur’s tears gently with the backs of her fingers.  

Nodding, he took a deep breath, straightening his stance. “A bit, ar.” He still felt embarrassed, excusing himself as Bryn returned to her seat. Immediately, John reached to cup her face, thumb stroking her cheek. She turned her head to kiss his palm, covering her hand with his for a moment. Tommy raised his eyebrows, looking to Polly. Neither had ever seen him really express affection like that for a woman so openly, but both saw it quite clearly.  

Their precious John was in love with a vampire. 

“Now, before Arthur became distressed, you mentioned to me a monetary figure. How is five hundred pounds?” 

“A month?” Tommy asked, surprised. 

“A week.”  

Good god. Just how rich was this woman, to be able to offer five hundred pounds a week? It was a sum he had not expected at all.  

“I think that can be arranged,” he began, stubbing out his cigarette, “but the blood offer I shall have to give some consideration to.”  

“Good enough.”  

“Before anything is decided, I have some questions I’d like to ask you,” Polly began, leaning forward in her seat a little. “How do we know we aren’t about to be set upon by a group of your kind and slaughtered, like what happened up at the Black Patch? We have no bloody assurances here, Brynhild.”  

Bryn nodded, clasping her hands together upon the table. “Polly, the only assurance you need is that if I wanted you dead, you would be.” Clicking her fingers, she smirked. “Faster than that. You would not even see it coming. If I were as feral and bloodthirsty as you assume, it would happen before you knew it. I have no long game to play here, there is no merit in the Shelby’s ending up exsanguinated. I have no need for your money, merely your protection during the daylight. After telling you that, now you tell me what purpose I could possibly have in being duplicitous?” 

Her response was sharply delivered. “The Black Patch massacre, as I just said.” 

Bryn truly hated when humans did not listen. “You would be dead already, as I just said. Besides, it was not my fight.”  

“So you wouldn’t take the side of your own kind over a betrayal?” 

“If a gypsy family whom were not of your blood fell out with others, would you immediately take their side simply because they were gypsy?” 

She lit a cigarette, feeling nervous that the vampire so swiftly had her on the back foot. “That would depend on the circumstances.”  

“If that is so, then why can the same not be applied to me, hmm?”  

Polly did not enjoy witnessing her argument so flawlessly picked apart, feeling as if the neat stitches had been dropped from the needles she had knitted her opinion upon all too easily. “I see.”  

“No, you don’t,” Bryn challenged, reading her like a book. “You are prejudiced against my kind because you lost your kin at the hands of vampires. I knew those responsible, this much is true, but I had no part in what happened. Furthermore, I wanted no part. I have lost too, Polly. Because of the Rasmussen’s, I...”  

John felt it flare within him, a wave of distress burning through her blood, his hand reaching for her. “You alright, sweetheart?”  

She swallowed hard, nodding as she turned to him. “There is something I did not reveal that happened during my incarceration at the hands of the Rasmussen’s. I do not speak it because it brings me too much pain. Pain I can barely comprehend, even after all these years.”  

In getting the family to truly trust her, she knew she had to relive it in revelation. The three humans sitting at the table all waited with bated breath to hear it, just what could make an ancient vampire the likes of her suddenly become victim to her emotions. They would be the first outside of her own kind to know what had happened, too.  

That spoke volumes for a vampire as guarded as Bryn had been forced to become. 

#john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #john shelby smut #peaky blinders smut #john shelby x ofc #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #peaky fucking blinders #immortal beloved #john and bryn #john shelby

[natlacentral]

DANIEL DAE KIM: BEACON OF FIRE

Daniel Dae Kim, a paragon of versatility in the entertainment industry, continues to enchant audiences with his rich and compelling character portrayals. Esteemed for his significant roles in landmark television series such as Lost and Hawaii Five-0, Kim has also made waves with his reflective insights on the finale of the Good Doctor, where he served not only as an actor but as an executive producer. As speculation mounts about his character's return in the show's concluding season, Kim's artistic reach extends further with his riveting performance as fire lord Ozai in the much-anticipated live-action adaptation of Netflix’s Avatar: The Last Airbender. In addition to his work on screen, Daniel Dae Kim's return to Broadway in the production of Yellow Face by David Henry Hwang is a venture into the comedic genre, offering a fresh perspective on relevant cultural themes with a timeless appeal. 

In the heart of Hollywood's ever-changing landscape, Daniel Dae Kim stands out not just as an actor and producer but as a visionary leader dedicated to reshaping the narrative around Asian American stories and beyond. Founding 3AD, a production company that underscores his commitment to amplifying diverse narratives within the industry, Kim ignited a movement towards inclusivity and representation, drawing inspiration from the overlooked and undervalued voices at the proverbial high school party of life. His mission, grounded in the belief that entertainment should both captivate and challenge, has already borne fruit with successes like the Good Doctor. Yet, Kim emphasizes, 3AD's scope transcends any single community, aiming instead to spotlight a mosaic of untold stories, thereby enriching our collective cultural tapestry.

Kim's commitment to portraying multifaceted characters that challenge stercotypes and his explorations beyond acting into producing reflect a continuous pursuit of artistic growth and contribution to the cultural dialogue. Beyond his on-sereen prowess, Kim's advocacy for greater diversity and inclusion in Hollywood has made him a pivotal figure in the push for a more equitable entertainment landscape.

With a career that spans critical acclaim and a fervent dedication to cultural change, Daniel Dac Kim remains a beacon of inspiration and a force for progress in the ever-evolving world of entertainment. Read on and get inspired by this slice of Daniel Dae Kim's thoughts on his life as a father, an actor, a producer, and more.

How's the Sunrise House Event at Sundance? How did it go?

They were really fantastic. We had some really informative panels with some industry leaders from every sector. We had a great fireside chat with Steve Yeun. And we had another one with Lucy Liu and that seemed good. 

The Fireside Chats seemed to go really well. The feedback was really good. We threw some banging parties. And so you know, it was a little bit of substance and a little bit of fun.

 

And it's really great and inspiring that you guys are doing this, because I'm seeing a lot more mainstream visibility, especially in Sundance as well for AAPI.

Yes. 

It's really cool. 

What's funny is that AAPI filmmakers have been on it for a while at Sundance, they just have never had a home, you know, somewhere where they can be celebrated and their achievements can be spotlighted. And also, I think there's just a broader movement toward multiculturalism. And that's an emphasis of our house as well. It's not just for the AAPI community, we took specific efforts to do outreach to other communities of color and I think that's really important.

 

That's amazing. Especially how you guys are extending your arms to the communities, building and growing it.

That's what it's about, that's what it's about. We had a dinner one night where we invited all the other major communities of color, and we broke bread together, we talked and hopefully, that's just the beginning of broader initiatives among our houses. 

How did you approach the complex character of Fire Lord Ozai?

As a dad. You know, I have two kids and just thinking about the ways that he's actually in his own way trying to guide his children to their best future is what I kind of keyed into. We may make mistakes as fathers, some intentional, some unintentional, but it doesn't mean... I don't think Ozai doesn't love his children. I think he does, but his love comes out in ways very different from the way I express it.

 

The intention is there. It's just expressed in its own ways.

Yes. And, they can be damaging. They are damaging- physically, in the case of Zuko, but we damage our children without knowing it. We've been damaged by our parents without them knowing it. It's part of the cycle of life and that's kind of how I found Ozai's humanity.

Now, speaking of Zuko and Iroh, and Ozai's family dynamics. How were you all able to explore this complex family relationship on screen?

One of the ways that we did it was to just get to know one another. I've known Paul Sun-Hyung Lee for a while, and I'm a big fan of his work. And so there was a natural bond between us right from the start, and I really enjoyed seeing Lizzie's work as Azula, and watching Dallas' work as Zuko was fantastic, and just seeing what they brought to the table allowed me to kind of see who my children were. Because we were coming together as actors, and we were seeing what each actor brought to the table. But I was able to use that to inform my relationship with the children. What are they good at? What do they need help with? Where do we want to guide their future? Where do I want to guide their strengths and their weaknesses? So things like that, and a little off-camera bonding was really important.

You played pivotal roles that defied stereotypes. How important is it for you to portray complex characters that go beyond just one archetype?

It's just interesting as an actor, you know. I never want to be doing one thing forever, I've been in situations where I played a character for six years, seven years, but, in the case of Lost, I'm so grateful that there was so much growth in that character. So it never became boring. But if I'm lucky enough to have the opportunity to work a lot, I want to use those opportunities to explore things I'm interested in as an artist. And part of that is just kind of finding a variety of kinds of people to play with.

And you've produced, you've acted, and you've explored all these other avenues in terms of creating art. What other things do you want to explore in the near future, aside from those realms?

Producing has been really interesting, the process of creation of television and film and theater has been something that has intrigued me for a while. Yes, I think, to have a holistic view of how one makes entertainment and how it affects us as a society and vice versa, I think it's a really interesting question. How entertainment reflects the cultures of our time and at the same time, pushes it in one direction or another.

What's the most valuable piece of advice you received from someone either in the industry or out of the industry that you always still carry with you?

That there's no room in show business for you, you have to make room. I keep that in mind because it encourages me to think that nothing is a given, nothing should be taken for granted and anything that I'm looking to do will probably require work because no one is asking me to do it.

What's the one thing people will  remember you after the credits roll? What do you want to be remembered as?

First and foremost, a good actor, because that's my life's passion, and I would say, second of all, someone who tried to use his platform to bring us together as a society.

What kind of book will Daniel Dae Kim be?

Well, I will tell you that I'm working on a project right now based on a book by Chang-Rae Lee, his first major novel - Native Speaker that came out in the 80s. And I have a real connection to that novel, because Chang-Rae and I are of the same generation as Korean Americans, and a lot of the issues he wrestles with in that book are issues that I've wrestled with my whole life. It's a beautifully written book. His prose is so eloquent and poetic. And it was the first time I'd ever read a book that kind of felt like he was talking to me.

#natla #atla #netflix avatar #netflix atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar netflix #atla netflix #daniel dae kim #interview #photoshoot #a book of

[gamergirl929]

The Shattered Urn (Amirah x Reader)

After a near death experience, Amirah puts a noticable amount of distance between her and the builder, what could this mean for their realtionship?

If there was one thing you hadn’t expected after your brush with death, it was Amirah to avoid you like the plague. 

The two of you had been best friends before you took your tumble over the cliff's edge, now however she went out of her way to avoid you, unwilling to look you in the eye, even though you’d try to catch her gaze at every Fireside Meeting. 

You sigh in defeat as the woman makes a beeline up the stairs toward her shop, your shoulders sagging. 

You jump slightly when a hand settles on your shoulder, a hand belonging to none other than Arvio, Amirah's younger brother.  

“Don’t worry Y/N, she’ll come around.” 

You frown, watching as she disappears a the top of the stone stairs leading towards her shop and out of sight.  

“I hope you’re right Arvio.” You frown, glancing at the boy who gives you and smile.  

“Well, I AM right! You’ll see!” He says before giving your shoulder a pat and making his way towards his own shop.  

You stare at the set of stone steps leading to Amirah’s shop and sigh, turning on your heels and making your way towards your own workshop, intent on getting some work done before night fell.  

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

Before you knew it, a week had passed, a week of tolling away in your workshop, moving between your shop and the Commerce Guild more often than not, only venturing into town to deliver finished commissions and occasionally go for a bite to eat at the Blue Moon Saloon.  

“Y/N, you really need to take some time off.” Owen says as he places a plate in front of you.  

You shrug.  

“I’d really like to upgrade the size of my workshop, and that requires gols.” You sigh, sipping your Yakmel Milk.  

Owen hums, crossing his arms across his chest.  

“Are you sure that’s ALL this is about?” He asks, a brow arches and you huff, knowing full well that he was alluding to Amirah.  

“I’m sure.” You mumble, and he shakes his head, his hand resting gently on your shoulder.  

“Just try and take it easy, okay?” He asks, giving your shoulder a squeeze and you nod.  

“I’ll try Owen.” 

He nods, patting your back before moving to the bar where a slew of customers are waiting, among them, Amirah and Arvio the boy sending you a wave, whereas his sister simply glances in your direction. 

You sigh, turning your attention back to your food, your fork prodding at the meat on your plate.  

Grace meanwhile, leaves the register, the blonde heading towards you when you wave her over.  

“Can I get this to-go?”  

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

You again threw yourself into your work, and before you knew it, your workspace had been upgraded, a wide expanse of land that had surrounded the workshop was now yours.  

Your first thought was to celebrate, but the one person you wanted to celebrate with was avoiding you as much as she possibly could.  

You swallow hard, your eyes finding the roof of Amirah’s shop that you could barely see poking up above a number of the buildings in town.  

A surge of courage settles in your chest, and before you realize, you’re headed towards town, with one destination in mind. 

Despite the fact that many had attempted to speak with you, you remained silent, pressing onwards towards Amirah’s shop, only stopping once the door to her shop closed behind you.  

“I’ll be with you in just a moment.”  

You smile, realizing how much you’d missed the sound of Amirah’s voice.  

“I’m not going anywhere.” You say, the woman noticeably stiffening at the sound of your voice.  

She swallows hard, caressing the finished urn in front of her before slowly turning around, her purple orbs meeting your Y/E/C’s.  

“Hi.” She whispers, her voice soft.  

You take a step towards her, running a hand through your messy hair.  

“He-Hey.” You stammer nervously, your heart racing in your chest.  

The room falls awkwardly silent before you clear your throat.  

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask with a frown, the sight of it making Amirah frown sadly.  

She shakes her head. 

“No, you didn’t.” She whispers.  

You take a step closer, the woman unbothered by the closing proximity between the two of you.  

“Ever since the accident, you’ve been avoiding me.” You say, shuffling from foot to foot.  

She sighs, her gaze downcast as she stares at the wooden floor beneath her feet.  

“I know.” She mutters and you again step closer.  

“But why?” You ask, your dirty, sand covered shoes now coming into view. 

She shrugs, unable, or unwilling to explain her reasoning.  

Her head snaps upwards when gentle hands settle on her shoulders, your frowning face coming into view.  

“Am... Please.” You whisper, subconsciously caressing her collarbone, something that makes her breath hitch.  

Suddenly, and without warning, she cups your cheeks, her smooth, soft palms meeting your sun kissed skin. 

“Am?” You rasp before she pushes herself up on her tiptoes, her lips mere inches from yours for a beat before she leans in, closing the distance between you.  

Your breath hitches, your hands finding purchase on her waist as you kiss softly, the woman smiling against your lips when you kiss back.  

Her arms hang loosely around your neck as she tilts her head, changing the angle of the kiss.  

The woman lets out a squeak when you easily lift her into the air, pressing her against a nearby wall, your lips hovering inches away from hers.  

You surge forwards, your lips meeting again, the kiss much different from the tender one you’d shared moments before.  

You kiss passionately, the woman gasping softly as you pin her wrists against the wall behind her, her legs wrapping around your middle. 

A sudden crash causes the two of you to jolt apart, your eyes widening when you realize the crash had been the newly crafted urn, which was now shattered on the wooden floor.  

You turn your attention away from the urn and back to the woman you’d had currently pinned against the wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks pink.  

She, despite the fact that the urn she’d been working on was shattered, giggles.  

“At least the client won’t be coming to pick that up for another day or so.” She says, her legs tightening around you.  

“Now, where we were?” She whispers, leaning back in, her lips meeting yours again.  

Her hands settle on your shoulders, grabbing fistfuls of your shirt as you kiss passionately.  

When air becomes a necessity, you pull apart, neither going far as you lean your forehead against hers.  

“Wow.” She whispers and you smile, lightly bumping the tip of your nose against hers.  

“Yeah.”  

The room falls silent, the sound of your and Amirah’s heavy breathing being the only sound, that is until our break the silence.  

“Why were you avoiding me?” You ask in a whisper, the woman cupping your cheeks tenderly, her fingers tangling in the fine hairs at the base of your neck.  

“I was...” She pauses her throat bobbing, but a light bump of your nose against hers again wills her onward.  

“I was scared.”  

Your brows furrow.  

“Of what?” You ask and she sighs, her thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.  

“I was scared, that if I continued to let you get close, I’d lose you. I thought that if I put distance between us, and something happened to you, it wouldn’t be as painful...” She confesses, her voice soft and uncertain.  

You shake your head as you place her gently on the ground.  

“You could never lose me.”  

She sighs, pulling back to look into your Y/E/C orbs.  

“But I already almost did.” She whispers, her voice cracking slightly.  

You lean forward, your lips brushing hers as you whisper.  

“Well, I guess I have more reason to be careful now.” You whisper, tilting your head back to kiss the tip of her nose, her nose crinkling in response.  

“I’m sorry that I frightened you.” You whisper, your eyes fluttering shut as you rest your foreheads back together.  

“Just, be careful from now on, alright?” She whispers softly and you smile, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.  

“I will. Now, what do you say we head over the Blue Moon?” You smile, the woman’s lips splitting in a grin.  

“I’d like that very much.”  

#my time at sandrock #mtas #my time at sandrock x reader #amirah x reader #female!builder x amirah #i doubt this will get many notes but Im sure people will like it (hopefully) #for my uswnt x reader readers im working on fics Ive got a few done just editing and planning

[riftdancing]

Softer question this time.

Question Three! Siyoh grew up in a bakery. She helped work it. She suffered for it. Does she still bake? Does she have a favorite recipe? A favorite food?

Siyoh's life at this point revolves around food and hospitality. She's dedicated her life to becoming a passionate culinarian and trades woman.

After the revolution Rex helped her reclaim her family's business by financing her purchase of the old family Bakery, which was at least still mostly intact. Now that the occupation had passed Siyoh wanted to restore the honor her parents had fostered before her and celebrate their memory.

She considered reopening a bakery, but with it brought many ill memories of living a life under occupation. Furthermore, since living in Limsa Lominsa she'd learned a lot about both Othardian and Eorzean cooking. Too, she learned many out West were not familiar with Eastern customs nor food, and this was something she wanted to change.

Siyoh is incredibly passionate about Doman (and Thavnarian) culture. She loves spreading the wisdom both her Mother and Father passed on to her about their traditions and culture. She's excited to share Eastern food with those who have never tried it before, and since the revolution brought so many new faces to the East it cultivated the perfect opportunity for her current business, the Umbral Udon, which operates out of the building which used to be her Mother's bakery.

A now thriving venture in the East, it serves primarily as a Ramen Shop/Noodle Bar. However, there is an RSVP only venture in which Siyoh cooks a multi-course meal for a group of up to six diners she calls 'A Taste of the East.' This is mostly for foreigners but some locals enjoy participating too. The goal of this meal is to introduce patrons to an assortment of both Hingan and Doman cuisine and educate them on the historical and cultural influences and significance of each dish.

As a trader following in her Father's footsteps and working with a lot of his pre-established contacts, Siyoh has access to a wide range of the most fresh and delicious ingredients on the Eastern roads, seas, and winds. Further more, as the Umbral Udon works hand in hand with her sister establishment, Azuma's 'The Doman Dragon', they also have a large plot of land where they work their own fresh foods and ingredients.

Her work ethic, trading know-how, and contacts are what likely originally caught Rex's eye and influenced him to finance both establishments. But also likely led to the early attractions between both Rex and Siyoh, who are now romantically involved much much later down the line.

These days, most of the labor for the Umbral Udon is worked by staff which have been carefully curated by Siyoh. Why? Because she has moved her business further West to be more involved with Firelight Trading Company leading their Hospitality division. (You know, so that she can be closer to her man and not an entire ocean apart...)

Part of her job entails things such as curating the menu and management of The Fireside. Which is why if you ever attend one of the Fireside in game roleplay events, you might catch Siyoh make an entrance in the last 20-30 minutes before close to take inventory, see what sold, make adjustments to the menu, and make sure the staff and Baristas (like Mihli and Sarrai) are happy.

So she absolutely still bakes. I don't think she bakes for sale any more, but rather more as a love language for those around her and to keep the memories of her Mother close.

When Siyoh was still spending time under As'htola's roof in Limsa Lominsa, I once wrote about how she covered her kitchen in currant tarts. She spent the entire day and night making them, desperate to perfect them because she could almost remember why they mattered so much to her. And that Starlight, she remembered it was because of her Mother.

So food and cooking, also played major parts in Siyoh regaining her memories and healing too.

Food is her love language, but also a universal language. Food brings people together.

#thanks for the ask! #riftdancing - answers #character - siyoh mari #establishment - the umbral udon #siyoh has a lot of favorite foods #it would probably be hard for her to pick just one #but she loves citrus #she adores using lemon in cooking #but especially in her baking #more so siyoh LOVES tangerines #I'm pretty sure as'htola also loved oranges/tangerines #so they shared that #I remember I used to write about her bringing baskets home to Tola some days #I also often write about Siyoh smelling like tangerine blossoms due to a perfume she makes and wears #eastern wise she absolutely loves any dish with glass noodles #glass noodles and a lot of fresh veggies #japchae (a korean noodle dish often served for celebrations) inspired I'm sure

[amberlide]

A Christmas gift

I know is kink-october, but I'm not good with kinks, so I made a fluffy smut single story about the first time between my beloved Garreth and Penelope from my fanfiction. They are aged up of course :)

As the Christmas holidays at Hogwarts were fast approaching, and the Gryffindor common room was almost empty, Leander decided to sleep in the sixth year dorm, leaving theirs empty as a gift to Garreth. He really hoped his friend would finally enjoy his night with Penelope...

Minor please stay away, only +18

Tags: first time sex, fluffy smut. Words count: 5.7K It's quite long! :O English is not my first language so there are few mistakes here, sorry AO3 link --> this version had been edited :)

“Do you think she’s… ready?” Garreth cast a nervous look at Leander while they were packing their things. Christmas holidays were almost here, and the dormitory was already empty except for the two of them.

A heavy sigh escaped Leander as he stowed all his clothes in his trunk, closing it with a loud thud. “Weasley, please…” he rolled his eyes and sat on the trunk, “it’s two days I’ve found you two snogging half naked on your bed, if trying to take off your shirt every afternoon for a week doesn’t scream ready, then I don’t know what else!” he exclaimed. 

It was exasperating to see his friend so uncertain about something that surely wasn’t.

He had reached the point where he dreaded entering the dormitory, fearing of what he might find or might not find in particular clothes on his friend…

“Listen, tomorrow we leave for Christmas holidays, so tonight is just us two. I’m going to sleep in one of the sixth year’s bed and I leave the dorm to you. Free, for one night. Ask Penelope to sleep with you and see for yourself,” he pointed one finger on the palm of his hand, “tonight, or never Weasley!” he underlined his words with a decisive look.

Garreth nodded while folding his uniforms, “Thanks Lee!” 

Leander rose to his feet and headed for the exit. "Do it!" he exclaimed, shutting the door behind him, already sensing doubt around his friend.

-----

“So…” Penelope settled onto the squashy sofa next to the fireplace, her body sinking into the crimson pillows. The warmth from the flames turned her cheeks a rosy hue. She had a particular fondness for the Gryffindor common room, perhaps even preferring it to the Hufflepuff one. However, the drafts from the tower always made her shiver whenever she ventured away from the fireside.

After wrapping up a game of magic chess and chatting about holiday plans, the common room had emptied, leaving just the three of them.

“So…” Garreth scratched his head, shooting a look at Leander who appeared increasingly exasperated by his attitude. Packing the last chess pieces into a small velvet satchel and tucking the board under his arm, Leander announced, “I’m going to bed!” he rose his voice trying to give an hint to his friend, “It’s late, and I’ve got a long day tomorrow. We're visiting Aunt Sophie for Christmas, and trust me, it's going to be dreadfully dull. So, good night!” it wasn't truly that late, and so he might just curl up in bed and read something.

Garreth had insisted on lending Leander his novel, "The Adventure of Emerald Quill." Even though he showed genuine interest in the genre, his friend had inadvertently spoiled most of the plot, dampening his enthusiasm.

"Goodnight, Lee,” Garreth called out, raising a hand in farewell as Leander disappeared up the stairs of the tower.

Turning his attention to Penelope, their eyes met and she offered him a soft smile. Tilting her head, she reached out, her fingers gently brushing against his cheek. "Are you all right? You seem… nervous,” she murmured. Drawn to her, he settled next to her on the sofa, reveling in the gentle warmth of her touch. He really, really wanted to enjoy the whole warmth of her skin on his, but he felt too embarrassed to ask.

“Maybe you’re just tired, shall we go to bed?” he saw her trying to rise from the sank position on the sofa, he didn’t want her to leave, after all, Leander had made it abundantly clear that tonight might be his only chance.

He gently grasped her arm, pulling her towards him. Caught off guard, Penelope stumbled and ended up in his embrace. Their initial surprise melted away as they locked eyes, and Garreth tenderly leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips, avoiding her glasses in the process.

She felt Penelope relax beneath his touch, and she responded to his kiss without hesitation, parting her lips, brushing her tongue against his.

Its stomach twisted and turned.

He wanted her, and Leander was right, if she was willing to give, why not taking?

After all, he had prepared and taken that potion for three days now, so it was a waste of time and good resources not use it at his full potential. 

“Would you like to sleep with me tonight?” his voice was low, rougher than usual, as he sought to read her reaction to his proposal. She gave him an embarrassed smile, glancing towards the stairs behind him. "What about Lee?"

"He's in the sixth-year dorm," he explained. Leaning in, he brushed his nose gently against her ear. "Mine is free,” he murmured leaving a trace of goosebumps on her skin with his warmth breath.

Garreth felt Penelope stiffen. “Are you… sure?” she asked, but more than scared, she seemed intrigued by the prospective. She was fully aware of the consequences and a mischievous glint was sparkling her hazel eyes behind the lenses of her glasses. He raised his hand and brushed away a lock of soft brown hair from her forehead, following the strand and gently tucking it behind her ear, nodding as he lost himself in the tenderness of her gaze.

“Then why not?” 

He saw her jump up and extend her hand for him to take. Without wasting time, they soon found themselves chuckling nervously as they climbed the stairs leading to the dorm, trying to stifle their laughs at the prospective of breaking so many rules in such a short time, accomplices in yet another adventure.

They paused just before the door to the seventh-year dorm. Garreth's hand trembled on the handle. This was his moment, and he had to be ready to lead her, even if it was his first time he…

“Hey, you don’t really think to do this alone, do you?”

Surprise danced on his face; at times, it genuinely seemed as if she could read his mind. Without hesitation, she opened the door, leading him into the round room. The space, adorned with five four-poster beds, was dimly lit by a dying lamp on Garreth's nightstand.

The atmosphere was perfect, inviting almost. 

“It’s a first time for both, I’m not expecting it to be perfect. I’m also nervous,” she confessed, “but I’ll be fun, ‘cause your fun and I love you for this!” she raised on tiptoe and kiss him again, holding herself on his broad shoulders. “Come, let’s take turns!”

“Turns?” Garreth looked at her clearly puzzled by her words, following Penelope next to his bed, and watching her taking off her shoes, “Well, I’m not going to stay here and let you undress me,” she started, crouching while pulling the strings of her winter boots, “so I will end up naked and shivering. I want to enjoy the view too,” she smirked underlying her words with a playful wink.

He nodded, an intrigued glint in his green eyes. Penelope was always the one to take the initiative; she was far from meek, and that drove him wild. But her eagerness also helped relieve the pressure and lighten the mood. So, when she stepped closer and began to untie his tie, he didn't protest. Instead, he stood still, enjoying the delicate motions of her small fingers as they worked to undo the knot.

He stifled a chuckle at her focused expression, noticing the small furrow between her brows. She had never been good at adjusting her tie, at the beginning he thought it was just a way of pretending to be more boyish, to better disguised herself as a male student, but he soon realized that she really didn’t have a clue on how to do it.

“Let me help you,” he lowered himself and put an arm around her waist, dragging her closer, and planting a trail of soft kisses on her neck, “Garreth, please…” she pleaded, her voice already tinged with excitement and anticipation, but he didn’t care, with the other hand he loosened his tie, eager to move forward. He could clearly feel the warmth of her body calling him to temptation through the fabric of her clothes, and he really wanted to take off that fluffy jumper to expose the bust that was holding her breast. It would take hours to unlace it.

He took a step forward, leaning into her, and as predicted, she lost her balance. They both landed on his bed, a laugh escaping her throat. "You are a devil!" she complained, pulling herself up and finally removing his tie, proceeding then to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. 

This time she worked faster, and as soon as she managed to exposed his broad shoulders, she leaned forward and kissed his neck, grazing at the freckled skin of his chest, brushing the few ginger hair, inhaling his scent of lavender soap, inked parchment and what she recognized as wiggen tree bark with a hint of ginger. 

It was enough to stir her feelings, and she felt her heartbeat quickening, the warmth in her stomach growing, as well as the pulsing sensation between her thighs, forcing her to squeeze her legs. She felt his hand on her knee, the heavy textile of her stocking were not enough to keep the warmth of his fingers at bay, as it seeped though it. 

Garreth perceived Penelope breath caressing his ear, before her tongue brushed its lobe, and started to gently sucking it between her lips. She knew what she was doing, a soft sigh escaped his lips, feeling himself tensing under her touch, he needed a distraction or she would surely drove him mad. He started moving forward, slowly reaching up from her knee to her thigh, he felt her stopping in her endeavor and smiled to himself, but he didn’t stop. He continued sensing the warmth growing as he was approaching a much desired spot.

Penelope quivered, but she didn’t want him to win, so she removed his shirt completely admiring his pale skin, she wanted to kiss every single one of those soft brown spots… She moved her hand over his chest and absently brushed her finger over a little nipple. 

She heard him stifling a laugh, “Please Pen, you know that tingles,” he whispered, “Sure,” she answered with a glint in her eyes, “because what you’re doing is not…” “It would take ages to unlace your bust you know, at least give me something to look forward.” 

“Who said I’m wearing one?”

Garreth widened his eyes and lower his gaze from her face to her chest, he swallowed, the thought of her soft little breasts already free from that rigid trap under her bulky jumper made him twitch in his pants. 

“How…”

“Not that I don’t like wearing one, but after one year without it I feel more comfortable without, and I hoped nobody noticed under this,” she pointed to her jumper. 

He surely didn’t notice, but now that he knew, it was definitely his turn.

“Mmm… let me check…”

He retreated his hands from beneath her skirt and started to travel up her hips, intently gazing in her eyes, while admiring their soft glow and cloudy desire. Her skin was soft, a bit colder than her thighs, but he knew how to warm her up, he bent over and kissed her lips, this time hungrier and rougher than before, biting gently as he invaded her mouth with his tongue.

Her cheeks flushed, as she sensed his hands traveling slowly up under her jumper, she wanted to focus on that feeling, but Garreth kiss was too intense to ignore. She hold herself against him, sensing her glasses askew on the bridge of her nose, she surely needed to remove them.

His tongue was eager, demanding almost, searching for her, he never kissed her that way, and she liked how he was putting aside his nervousness to please and arouse her.

His hands found her breast, covered only by a light cotton blouse, he knew very well that was the only barrier between her skin and his hungry touch, but it was okay for now. He cupped both little breasts in the palm of his hands, appreciating their round tender forms and immediately feeling her nipples hardening to his assault. 

It was not the first time he had touched them, he knew very well how she liked it, but he never dared to ask her to take off her clothes, so he was eager to admire them in full, open air, even if the light was dimming in the dorm. 

Still, he wanted to take his time, savoring the moment, despite that devilish wool that was starting to itch the skin of his arms. He started pinching lightly the sensitive tips, and he felt Penelope whimpering in surprise while still locked in their kiss, trying to distance herself to fully enjoy that torture, but he didn’t want to let her go, so he moved a hand on her waist and gently pushed her towards him so she couldn’t escape. 

He took a small tip between his fingers, brushing it with his thumb, and pull. She moaned, his smiled widened, and he felt her hands clenched on his shoulder, her fingertips digging in his skin. He broke the kiss, now he wanted to check her face, see her mouth quivering with pleasure, her eyes pleading for more, her breath starting to grow heavier with every little pull. 

As soon as he did it, he felt Penelope head leaning on his shoulder, he stopped, realizing how overwhelmed she were, he started to be afraid that it was just too much for her to bear. After all, they had reached this point in just a few hours, when it had taken nearly a year for them to start feeling comfortable with each other bodies to the point where kissing was merely enough. 

He didn’t want to push her boundaries. 

He took his hands out from beneath her jumper.

“Penny, are you okay?” he brushed her hair, whispering lightly in her ear, he saw her nodding, “I’m so…” “No, don’t be,” she interrupted him, before raising her head, her cheeks were a deeper shade of pink, her eyes glowing with warm pleasure. 

“I’m fine. I didn’t expect it to be so…” she swallowed hard, “good,” she exhaled, the heat between her leg was almost unbearable now and she could feel a wet spot forming on her underwear. 

“You know we can just slip under the cover and go to bed…” he proposed, not that he wanted, and if she did, well, a short visit to the toilet was in order before snugging in with her. 

She laughed, “Not a chance!” she exclaimed, they were already too far to stop, “Is that ginger that I smell?” Garreth blushed and nodded averting his gaze and passing a hand on his neck, “I had to, you know…” her grin widened, “I know that brew takes ages to prepare, so no, we are not going to waste all your effort,” she mocked him and with a glint in her eyes she took off her jumper, leaving a flurry of static-electricity sparks in the process.

The admiration in his eyes was evident as he took in the sight of her chest, barely covered by the half transparent shirt, her plump and hard nipples tearing the soft fabric, poking out and almost teasing him to move forward. 

No, Penelope was definitely ready for that, maybe more than him.

“So, it’s still my turn?” he joked twitching his eyebrow, “Barely, you still have few minutes,” she replied casting a look at the decorative hourglass on the nightstand, a gift from their shared past.  With a wink she turned it over.

She had just the time to take off her glasses that Garreth was already kissing her neck, brushing his nose against her sensitive skin, biting softly and traveling up her hips once again. She squealed in surprise when they both landed on the bed, flat, against the pillows, she didn’t have time to recover, her shirt was fast half-unbuttoned and her breasts were free in the chilly air or the dorm.

Surely, it wasn't the drafts from the windows causing her cheeks to flush and her nipples so hard, most likely the hungry gaze of Garreth on top of her. 

“Sorry, so much to do and so little time,” he smirked before lowering on her and start kissing her stomach, traveling slowly up. Penelope shivered, trembling in anticipation and when his mouth reached one of her tips, she couldn’t trap the whimper in the back of her throat and let it escaped, igniting Garreth desire. 

She lock her hand in his ginger curls, arching her back, offering herself while his tongue was brushing, swirling, teasing, and slowly biting her. She felt so wet and messy, desperate for keeping a semblance of composure, she closed her eyes, but it only amplified the sensations coming from her hot skin and his eager licks. 

Her nipple was growing harder and harder between his lips and before moving to the other, he stopped for a moment to admire its deep crimson hue again the white of her skin, glinting wet from his saliva, he swallowed, it was almost too much for him as well. But Lee gave him only that night, so he had to press forward. He started to travel down again, ready to take off her skirt, when Penelope turned abruptly on her side. 

“Not so fast Brewsley,” she teased him, he let out a resigned sigh and raised on the covers, barely resisting the temptation of lowering his mouth again to give another lick, she always called him Brewsley when she wanted his full attention. He’d always pretended not to like that nickname, but it was a fun pun indeed, and Lee quickly grew jealous for not having thought of it first.

Penelope grinned, “My time,” the surety in her voice, was betrayed by the slightly trembling of her hands, he followed them until they reached the buckle of his belt. He tried not to smile at the sloppy attempts to unfasten it, not that she didn’t know how to do it, but she was evidently nervous and despite her goodwill, he could sense her trepidation and fear. 

Once she managed, he quietly rose to his feet, the bulge between his legs was evident, and he stood silent, giving her space and time to decide how she wanted to proceed. Surely, she had felt it countless of time before, against her thigh, her belly, the back of her hand, maybe once also against her butt, but that was uncalled for and totally unexpected. 

He blushed remembering how once she saw him half naked diving and swimming in the river with his brothers, but she was pretending to be a boy at that time so he didn’t realize how much embarrassed she must have been. 

This was a totally different story.

The air between them tensed, as Penelope slowly unfastened the first button of his trousers carefully avoiding touching more than she could handle. Her fingers moved to the second button, than the third, as she was holding her breath longer with each one. Finally, she reached the last one and in a burst of courage, she grasped at the side of his trousers and pull them down. 

He wanted to say something funny to lighten the mood, but he held back, Penelope was surely mustering the courage to continue and he didn’t want to press her or give her the impression of being impatient or even making fun of her. So when she stood and ask for a kiss he didn’t expect her hand to travel from his stomach to his underwear gently feeling him. 

He kissed her softly, holding her against his bare chest, feeling the warmth of her skin and her exposed breasts, realizing she was just trying to distract herself, making that mechanical gesture more intimate, and participated. 

Garreth closed his eyes, as her hand kept stroking him from over the fabric, gently assessing his length, his width, his firmness… He felt a warm drop escaping from his tip, gushing out, and he faltered, hoping she would not retreat disgusted by something he wasn’t able to control.

But he heard her chuckling, against his lips, “You’re almost as wet as me,” she joked, and with that she plunged in the depth of his underwear, this time without any hesitation or shame. 

Her hand felt the warmth of his skin, she briefly travel up and down, than in the back, squeezing his buttcheeks with a giggle, before deciding she had enough and proceed to remove that last piece of clothing leaving it dropping down together with his trousers. 

He stepped out of his clothes.

Now he was completely naked and she was half dressed. 

“Do you think it’s fair?” he mumbled opening his arms as she stepped back taking in his figure, he noticed how her eyes were desperately trying not to look down, but she was undoubtedly attracted by his virility. The idea made him even more excited.

Penelope sank in the bed, and hit her cheek with her index finger, faking a thoughtful expression, “Yes, for now. Come here, I haven’t finished yet,” she smiled patting the spot on the covers next to her. Garreth promptly obeyed, as soon as he did it, she leant and took him in her hand, keeping a steady and intense gaze, drinking in his green eyes.

His heart jumped in his chest at that sudden move, he didn’t expect her to be so direct after the time she took it before. He felt her hand moving up and down his shaft, then her thumb followed one of the biggest bluish veins until it reached the tip, he hold his breath.

She exposed the soft skin under it, it was a nice shade of crimson and glistening with his juices. She rolled her thumb on it, feeling him tensing under her touch, she had never seen one before, so she was eager to explore his body discovering his full potential. 

“Does it hurt? Stop me if it does,” she murmured, her voice faint with worries, he shook his head unable to answer, he passed an arm around her and moved her closer, just a simple gesture to let her understand how much he was appreciating her efforts, especially when she started to move her other hand between his thighs, grazing at his balls. It was definitely too much to bear and he didn’t want to sink in his own pleasure before giving her hers.

“Can we… can we move forward?” he pleaded, feeling the gentle thugs becoming more rushed and the increasing pressure around its tip, if she continued that way, it was surely going to come. 

Penelope released him at once, her cheeks hot, she knew what was coming, and after feeling so at ease with her exposed chest, she was confident that getting fully undressed would not be so difficult.

Still, the thought made her nervous, and Garreth read it in her eyes, as he kissed her again, gently moving his hands up her skirt, “Shall we remove this stocking first?” he suggested against her lips, she nodded trying to relax under his touch, she was quivering lightly, “Are you cold?” he was definitely not cold, not after what she did, but maybe she wasn’t as excited as him…

“A little bit,” she admitted. He took a moment to lower the canopy of the four-poster bed, providing them with a sense of intimacy. The soft light from the lantern on the nightstand, glowing in the darkness, created the perfect atmosphere.

“Better, thanks,” she whispered laying on the covers ready for whatever he had in mind. If she thought Garreth would be more decisive than her, she was surely wrong, despite his eagerness he still felt a bit embarrassed and once he took out her stockings, his hands became more unsure around the strip of her skirt.

She felt it and gently asked him to lay next to her, she looked him in the eyes, admiring the shimmering of his green irises under the warm glow of the lantern. She brushed his hair, taking a moment to let her heart slow its beat while stroking the soft silk of his ginger curls, wrapping one around her finger. She caressed his cheek, trying to count the myriad of freckles on his faces. They  stood still for a moment, then Garreth moved forward and kissed her once again, intrigued by the gentle gaze of her slightly almond-shaped eyes, an inheritance of her grandmother, and the inviting curving of her pink lips. He wanted her so badly… 

The kiss deepened as his hand travelled once more from her shoulder to her hips, brushing her nipple in its journey to her thigh, he raised the fabric of her skirt with renew purpose, moving it up. Her skin, now exposed, was cold, so he bend one knee and covered her with his thigh; the feeling of their naked body pressed together, released more sparkles, especially because he knew she must feel it pressing on her stomach. He kept moving, reaching her underwear, then creeping under them, one centimeter at a time, feeling the warmth increasing at the tip of his fingers the more he was digging into her secrets. 

He felt a tuft of hair and saw Penelope widened her eyes gasping, before closing them again, relaxing and hiding in the nook of his shoulder, “Shall I…?” he noticed her nodding, still hidden, so he continued, feeling her legs tensing up. He stroked her lips gently, almost asking for permission before plunging in. He felt her wet folds and brushed his knuckle against them, sensing her little clit tightening, while his hand was becoming more and more slick with her juices. 

She wasn’t joking, she was wet… and just from the little teasing moment they had.

He moved his thumb up, pressing it gently on her nub, she quivered and whimpered, he could hear her heart pumping against his chest, furiously. He desperately wanted to see the look on her face, check her eyes, but he didn’t dare to ask, so he kept stroking with little gentle movements, assessing her reactions. Was she liking it?

He felt her hand grappling at his arm once again, a soft moan escaped her throat, while her fingernails dug in his skin leaving red marks, yes, she was definitely liking it. He increased the pressure, eager to slip a finger inside her, savoring every part of that warm aroused body, when he finally did it, she tensed once again. 

“Don’t… don’t stop. Please,” he heard her, almost pleading, he didn’t. He kept stroking her gently, circling her clit with the tip of his thumb while lightly pumping his finger inside her, sensing her tight walls clenching. A wet sound escaped form her intimacy, and she heard her whining, 

“It’s okay, Pen, don’t be ashamed,” he whispered, fearing she was too embarrassed to enjoy the moment.

Penelope raised her head, the heat coming from Garreth’s chest was becoming almost unbearable, her stomach was turning and she started to feel the waves of what she believed was one of the most powerful orgasms she had ever experienced. But of course, she wasn’t sure, caught up in the moment as she was, she barely remembered how to breathe.

She just knew she trusted him as she had alway done, and that he wasn’t disappointing her.

The pressure increased between her legs, his fingers were moving faster, steadier, bringing her on the verge of the abyss, closing her eyes, her let herself go. She had waited that moment for months, so she just clenched her fist and let a moan escape her lips as the center of her pleasure started to pulse, the contractions becoming closer and closer. 

If this was just the beginning, what was coming next?

Almost losing her mind in the intensity of the orgasm, she soon tried to recompose herself.

Quivering lightly she closed her legs and Garreth understood that she had enough, but as soon as he retread his finger, now slicked from her juices, he felt Penelope pushing him away.

Taken by surprise, fearing he did something wrong, he rolled on the bed with his back on the covers, he didn’t have the time to understand what was happening, or even ask her what was going on, that she was on top of him, her warm and wet entrance pressed against the tip of his shaft. 

He widened his eyes, puzzled, what was happening?

He glanced up at Penelope, her face hidden by cascading hair. Gently brushing the strands aside and tucking the longest tresses behind her ears, he caught a mischievous smirk gracing her lips, “Do you really think I was letting you do all the work?” she mocked him, lowering herself and pinning her hand on his shoulder while gently moving herself up and down along his length, making it slippery and wetter with every stroke. 

He almost choked, while tying to swallow hard, his exposed and sensitive tip was prodding her entrance, sending him shivers whenever she rocked her hips. 

She truly was something.

In his desperate attempt to distract himself, as he was sure he was going to explode sooner or later, as the sight of her clit brushing against him was too much, he raised his arms, his hands searching for her breasts. He had just the time to stroke her nipples, that Penelope grabbed his wrists, “Not a chance,” she murmured and taking his hands off of her, she lower herself pinning him to the bed, with her nipples caressing his chest, but that was exactly what lead her to her doom.

She was clearly in a precarious position as she was stretched all the way down and in the attempt to keeping him in place, she was loosing her grip on him. Despite her clenching her thighs, it took no effort from Garreth to turn his hips and flip her over.

Penelope sinked on the mattress as a soft cry escaped her lips, Garreth quickly moved his knee between her legs to prevent her from closing them, “I think it’s time to end this little game,” he whispered, his voice rough and coarse, and lowering his body he gently pressed it against her, he felt her spreading her knees inviting him to continue, while nodding, she had enough as well.

They lock eyes for a brief moment, while Garreth stroke himself again against her drenched folds, parting them and gently pushing, feeling her entrance tightening. “We don’t need to do it,” he reminded her, he wanted to give her a last chance to back up before it was too late.

She didn’t answer, but she extended her hand and gently caressed his cheek, before raising and kissing him again, he knew it was his cue, still locked in the kiss he lower his hips and slowly started to make his way inside her. Pushing and retreating, little by little, he managed to finally get his way in, she was warm, tight and slippery, she was perfectly wrapping him, like a soft embrace.

He heard her whimper, and when she land on her back breaking the kiss, her eyes were closed, and the muscles on her neck tense. She was surely trying to resist for his sake. He almost wanted to pull out, if it had to be painful for her, he wasn’t interested anymore.

But after a few seconds Penelope opened her eyes, the tears glistening in them were pushed away by her tender smile, “Do you mind? I can’t move,” she tried to joke, and he nodded starting to gently rock his hips, leaving her room to adjust to the new feeling with every push.

Penelope inhaled sharply as the pain in her belly subsided, leaving behind a new feeling, she was full and ripen, her body ready for that new experience. She grapple at Garreth hips and start to gently move with him, the warmth in her stomach deepened as the sensation between her legs grew sharper and more intense with every move. 

She find herself transported into a new whirlwind of stimuli, she wasn’t sure how to define them, but she surely liked them, her body at least was. As Garreth pleasure grew more intense with every pump, she also felt it, he was loosing his composure and his eyes were faltering, his focus on a totally different spot. 

As he plunged deeper into her, she arched her back, widened her eyes in surprise, was that supposed to be so… intense? She didn’t expect it, she couldn’t keep the grip on his hips anymore, so she just grabbed the cover of the bed and closed her eyes feeling his breath growing more heavier with every movement.

Garreth knew he couldn’t last longer, she was already tensing under him, her walls tightening once more, but when she bend her knees making herself smaller, it was then that he completely lost it. “Pen…” he whisper desperately, “I know, I’m fine,” a soft reassuring smile danced on her lips, her eyes full of pleasure and untold desire, even if she wasn’t coming yet, they knew there was still time to enjoy themselves. 

He bit his lip, pushing once more, basking in the beauty of the girl behind him, completely spread and undone for him. He sense a drop of sweat forming on his forehead, but his thoughts were all for the turning and churning in his groin. He was almost there, he reached the verge with a last thrust moaning and almost cursing under his breath.

When he finally finished, releasing himself in her, he tried to keep his balance, but finally toppled over landing on his back beside her. Penelope rolled over him, resting her head on his chest, she was exhausted. 

“I definitely have something to look forward now after my holidays,” she joked, and Garreth chuckled ruffling her hair, still catching his breath. 

“I don’t know if Leander would agree with that, but this was surely a nice gift from him,” they both laugh, sweaty and happy.

They both knew that was jus the begging of a total new adventure.

#hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy garreth #first time #amberlide writes #fluffy smut #hogwarts legacy fanfic #my fanfiction

[archaiclumina]

As someone who hasn't done a lot of in-game RP before, I thought I'd just type up a little bit about my experiences so far for folks like me who are a bit newer to that scene! So far I've managed to go to 4 RP events over the past couple of months! 1 was the open world RP at the Gold Saucer, which was just a small gathering but loads of fun! I've also managed to check out three venues now! I'm just going to mention them all here, both for me to keep a record and remember what I've done, but also to link their deets for folks who might be looking for places to peep into! Details below the cut!

Tonight we met up with a German friend to meet their OC and checked out a performance event at The Still and Strings, which was really impressive! It was loads of fun, but not as easy to meet new OCs without prior arrangement like the event at the Saucer. We kept most of our RP to party chat because we didn't want to interrupt the performers and their routines, but it was definitely cool to have the atmosphere of a bar with a "live band" going on while our OCs talked. Also the mix up of songs was a great, eclectic vibe, there was a style of performance for everyone's musical preferences! Last month we visited The Jabberwocky on Zalera, which is a really gorgeous venue with such entertaining bar staff (I used to tend bar so I am always impressed when bartenders can rp some good flair haha) Plus it has a fun little gambling idea which can serve as a neat premise for attending in and of itself! We also checked out The Fireside on Balmung last month, which is just the coziest place with the cutest menu! The staff are super attentive too and very good at giving the place a nice homely atmosphere with their interactions! Also, they run things in the late night NA/OCE/SEA timezone so if you're like me and in a weird part of the world that's very handy c': (They are also having a thing next week which you can find the info about here!) On the actual roleplaying part, if you're very new to in-game RP there are a lot of things that can be overwhelming. The chatscroll being one of the biggest offenders. I like to give the people I know I am going to be interacting with a little icon by using the "Assign Friend Group" function. (You can find that by going to your friends list and right-clicking their name.) That let's me scan easily for their posts between everyone else's. Of course if you don't know anyone there, that won't be an option. In that instance I tend to just make my chatbox as big as possible and pray c': (If I find any good resources for making in-game RP more user friendly, I will post them for sure!) Open world was a bit scary at first, but then once we got started and got into the flow of things, it was really fun. I did keep my shout chat in a different window to keep things from getting confusing and I think that's a very good option for people who are venturing out into open world RP for the first time. Both the Jabberwocky and the Fireside have a bit more of an easy premise for interacting with strangers than the Still and Strings did, so for brand new people to the community, I'd suggest either of those as great venues to dip your toes in without being intimidated by a lot of chat scroll from different directions like the crowd and the performers. But if you're in a little group, the Still and Strings is a really good option where you can enjoy some RP with entertainment as well!

#ooc #random rp ramblings #ffxiv rp venues

[taras-toe-beans]

Day 4 (NSFW-ish): The rest of the companions heard Tav going at it one night

Izzrhys tucked Gale into his blankets, trying to make sure his bare form wasn't cold overnight. He pulled his pants back on and haphazardly buttoned his shirt, just enough to make the journey back to his own tent. He thought everyone else had turned in for the night, but almost everyone in camp was gathered near the fire, and they took notice when Izzrhys emerged from Gale's tent so disheveled, almost stumbling.

“I can explain,” he began, before realizing he absolutely could not explain in a way that would possibly make him look better.

“I would love to hear this… explanation. Do go on, darling,” Astarion replied.

Izzrhys groaned, pressing a hand up to his face. “Hells, how long have you even been out here? I thought everyone was in bed?”

“We were,” Shadowheart said, “And then we were unfortunately woken up by the sound of you and Gale making love, very loudly. “

“‘Making love’ is perhaps putting it a little too gently,” Wyll joked.

Izzrhys fiddled with his buttons, trying to fix what was misaligned, even though they had already all seen him in his unkempt state. Heat rose into his face as they kept piling on the pressure. He wondered if they could see him blushing, or if he was lucky enough that the darkness hid the deeper purple color spreading across his cheeks.

“Why bother giving me such a hard time?”

“Aw, soldier! Lighten up a little bit! Yeah, maybe you did wake us up, but we’re happy for you two!” Karlach said.

She got up from her spot by the fire and walked over to him, putting an arm around his shoulder. Izzrhys leaned into her embrace. Even with her engine cooled down a bit, she was still much warmer to the touch than the other companions, and it was always a comfort.

“You should come join us.”

“You mean you were doing something besides listening to me getting railed?” Izzrhys ventured, placing a hand across Karlach’s upper back as they walked back to the fireside together.

“We were trying to do something to distract from the sound of you getting railed, more accurately,” Shadowheart corrected, “It would be a lot more fun, though, if a certain vampire spawn stopped cheating.”

“Shadowheart, you wound me!” Astarion protested, “What a baseless accusation!”

Lae’zel stared at Astarion intently, her eyes darting back and forth across his hand of cards.

“Perhaps the spawn tells the truth. None of us have been able to ascertain his methods yet, and while unlikely, it is possible he keeps winning by chance alone.”

Halsin laid behind Astarion, wildshaped into a bear. He cast a knowing look sideways at the vampire’s hand of cards, but he was blissfully uninvolved in the heated game of cards. Astarion was aware of the druid’s gaze on his hand, but was unbothered by it. He instead watched Izzrhys’ every step as he approached, and an amused grin passed over his face.

“What’s that on your neck there?” he asked, feigning innocence.

Izzrhys’ hands instinctively went to cover up the marks that decorated his neck and collarbone in wine-colored splotches, but surely everyone had already seen.

“I didn’t take Gale for a biter,” Wyll said, “Maybe Astarion, but Gale?”

“No telling what they get up to, with that magic of Gale’s. Biting’s probably the least kinky thing they do,” Astarion added.

Shadowheart laughed. “All that magic, and no thought put towards a silence sphere?”

“He can’t cast other spells if-” Izzrhys began, immediately stopping himself as he realized exactly what he was saying.

“Oh, go on, darling. Say what you were going to say. I would love to hear every last delicious detail,” Astarion insisted.

Izzrhys gave a slight smile, but his voice had an edge. It was difficult to tell whether he was playing or nearing his limit. “You know what, that silence sphere is a lovely idea. Plenty of other uses, too, like making Astarion shut the hells up, perhaps?”

“There’s no shame in having some fun, Iz. Although I don’t see the need to make the rest of us jealous.”

Jealous. Right. As much as the companions were teasing him, Izzrhys was starting to feel more defensive than he should. They didn’t judge him- not really. This wasn’t like living in the temple, where he felt more ashamed of himself. While he could definitely afford to be more careful in the future, he could see the mirth in his companions’ eyes as they gathered around the fire. There was no anger or annoyance, only a bit of mischief, and definitely the desire to poke fun at him for making less-than-ideal decisions in the heat of the moment. He loved them for that.

“Just don’t tell Gale you heard everything, alright?”

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3ficfeb #bg3 fanfiction #tav x gale

[aces-and-kings]

"He needs a... a...", Karma lowered his voice and leaned up against Red, far more than was necessary, even for a whisper, "...black mage."

"No", the outlaw replied, throwing his arm out in a show of protest. "Not if his life depended on it. I ain't lookin' to do more time."

The little grey rabbit crinkled his nose and slumped back into the booth, crossing both arms. Red was always snuffing out his fun. Outlaws were supposed to be wild and daring! The handsome jerk.

Doc's voice carried in well before he rounded the corner, nose stuck in a tome, "Amrak is correct and his life may very well depend on it." The book snapped shut, Semex pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and sighed. "As it so happens the garlean knows a guy."

Everyone turned to stare at Greyson who sat in the corner of the room, fireside, with a book in one hand and a glass of brandy in the other.

"Do I even wanna ask why ya know a guy?" Red questioned rhetorically. The glance back was an answer all the same.

Nope.

"Well then that settles it. If mister Evandrus here will send for his... contact we'll see to it that -" Red paused and glanced around then curiously looked to the Doc.

"Where are the others?"

There was an amused huff of air exhaled through Sem's nostrils as he turned and made his way back to his lab, "Those three are your problem."

Greyson smirked, taking a lengthy sip from his glass.

"The butcher, the assassin and the bodyguard." He chuckled in a way that insulted the notion anyone could wonder as to where they all were. "Is it so difficult to believe they would venture off together? You scraped the bottom of the barrel with that lot."

Shaking his head in an attempt to rid the snide remarks from memory, Red stood and took up his hat.

"I'll deal with that later. How soon can your man be here?"

Without so much as looking up from his book, Greyson lofted a brow and gave a slight toast, "Already on his way. Tonight, I imagine."

Downing the last of his whiskey, and nodding once in confirmation, Red made his way to the Doc's laboratory where he found Thorstyr leaning over the balcony's edge, indulging in a smoke.

A firm hand was clasp over the duskwolf's shoulder. "Hang in there Lone."

No words were spoken back, Thor's eyes fixated on a pile of armor beside a tent outside, armor that could only belong to Dante. Somewhere the man was walking around exposed. Risky but he sort of understood.

Some things, no matter how safe, suffocated you.

The pain was excruciating, he could barely hold himself upright, but there was nothing to do now, but wait.

"Try not to think about 'em."

Dkota and... no. They weren't the source. The darkness that had succeeded in penetrating his heart knew exactly how to hurt him. Not with the past but with the possible.

Somewhere out there was a missing piece of his soul, and it called to him fervently.

#thorstyr helbwilfsyn #semex drogon #red cobra #greyson evandrus #writing #screenshot by Ziphira #thanks again Ziph!

[max1010]

Fireside Ventures Team: Diverse Experts Driving Purposeful B2C Brands

Meet the dynamic team behind Fireside Ventures, a leading venture capital firm dedicated to nurturing purpose-driven B2C brands in India. With a mission to enhance consumer experiences and create meaningful societal impact, Fireside Ventures is at the forefront of supporting innovative ventures.

 About Fireside Ventures 

Fireside Ventures is a visionary venture capital firm that is reshaping the consumer landscape in India. By identifying and supporting purpose-driven B2C brands, Fireside Ventures is not only investing in businesses but also in the betterment of society.

 Nurturing Purpose-Driven Brands 

Fireside Ventures has carved a niche as d2c investors in India, recognizing the potential of brands that are not only commercially viable but also aligned with a larger societal purpose. By investing in these brands, Fireside Ventures is facilitating a positive shift in consumer experiences.

 Expertise in Consumer-Focused Ventures 

With a deep understanding of the consumer market, Fireside Ventures is one of the premier consumer venture capital funds in India. The team's expertise lies in identifying brands that resonate with consumers and have the potential to make a significant impact on the market.

 Rooted in Bangalore, Impacting India 

Based in Bangalore, the heart of India's startup ecosystem, Fireside Ventures is at the epicenter of innovation. The venture capitalist team at Fireside Ventures is dedicated to identifying and nurturing ventures across India, contributing to the growth of the startup ecosystem.

 Investing in Visionaries 

Fireside Ventures is more than just a venture capital firm; it's a partner to visionaries and innovators. The team understands the unique challenges faced by entrepreneurs and provides not just financial support, but also mentorship and guidance.

 Driving Societal Impact through Ventures 

Fireside Ventures believes in the power of businesses to drive positive change in society. By supporting purpose-driven ventures, Fireside Ventures is not only creating successful brands but also contributing to a more conscious and impactful consumer culture.

 Collaborative Ventures, Collective Impact 

Through strategic collaborations and investments, Fireside Ventures is fostering a community of ventures that collectively contribute to a better consumer experience and a more impactful society. The team at Fireside Ventures understands that true change comes through collective effort. Fireside Ventures and its diverse team of experts are at the forefront of the venture capital landscape in India. By investing in purpose-driven B2C brands, Fireside Ventures is not only shaping the consumer market but also making a tangible impact on society. With their deep expertise and collaborative approach, Fireside Ventures is set to lead the way in driving meaningful change through ventures in India.

#d2c investors india #consumer vc funds #venture capital bangalore #venture india #ventures in india #venture capitalist bangalore #ventures india #consumer venture capital funds #venture companies in india

[cavedwellermusic]

Spellsword - Night of The Grail (2023)

Hoddo looks at Portuguese melodic black metal act Spellsword's new album Night of The Grail, released July 28th on Nox Liberatio Records.

Medieval themed metal is always a welcome guest by my fireside. If you drink from the chalice of melodic black metal and enjoy thrash as a side dish, Spellsword delivers an epic tale that is engaging from start to finish. A tale sure to have your longsword held aloft. Not afraid to venture into the unknown caverns of experimentation. Spellsword takes risks that pay off resulting in a cohesive thought provoking album of epic proportions. Dust off your chain mail and prepare for a perilous quest!

#black metal #melodic black metal #thrash metal #extreme metal #portuguese music #cave dweller music #metal music #metal #Bandcamp

[nbtenvs3000w23]

The Art in Nature Interpretation

It's no secret that there is beauty in nature. The "gift of beauty” can be described as someone’s capacity to appreciate the infinite beauty in nature (Beck et al., 2018). This extends beyond the aesthetic and visually spectacular characteristics of the natural world, but also the beauty of the natural systems and relationships that link all parts of nature together in the universe. 

Art has long played a role in how humans understand the natural world. Some of the oldest works of art are cave paintings or stone carvings that depict artistic representations of people and/or animals. Today, artistic works come in many mediums of course, and photography is one that is incredibly accessible to many people today. The fact that most of us carry a camera in our pockets surely contributes to the wide reach of nature photography. I’m sure many of you reading this have some photos of beautiful landscapes or wildlife in your homes, whether it be Moraine Lake at sunrise or the mating display of a male peacock. However, I find that the most compelling natural photography is that which is accompanied by a story.

I believe that the art of storytelling can be one to the most reliable and compelling tools for nature interpretation. Stories can leave a very strong impression on someone, so long as the story was well-told and resonates with the audience. I have many vivid memories of well-spoken storytellers who were performing nature in some capacity. 

I remember in the summer of 2021; I attended a fireside chat at Barrier Lake in Kananaskis. I had the privilege to listen to a Stoney Nakoda language keeper speak to our group, and he told us the story about where the name “Kananaskis” had come from. It had come from a miscommunication between a Cree translator on the Pallister expedition, and a local Stoney boy who was helping the expedition navigate. This story felt especially artistic in the way he told the story since he first told it entirely in the Stoney language, (to which the elders in the circle would laugh along) and he then repeated it in English for us. In doing so he emphasized the relationships of First Nations with this land, having been here first and thus hearing the story before it was spoken using English words where further miscommunications inevitably arise.

This story is closely linked in my memory with the entire evening when I heard it, the dusky atmosphere, the good friends who came with me, and the food I ate while I was there. Compelling stories like the one I listened to that evening can elevate nature-focused experiences and help foster someone’s idea of their connection with the natural world. 

While not every story can be equally memorable, and not everyone can hold a crowd’s attention like the language keeper I met in Kananaskis, I think that photography is a strong tool that can go together with photography when used right. Many of us in this course have been using very intentional photos to accompany our blog posts and make them more resonant with the class.  On the other hand, some of the best photographers I know will have a story behind each photo they share. To me, these stories add even more colour to the scene than the ink or pixels bring to the full picture. When I go to share a story about something that happened to me while in nature, I am often tempted to pull up a photo that compliments what I’m talking about. Not every time, as sometimes the challenge of telling a story without a photo forces the story to be more colourful, but when I know I’ve taken a strong photo that can punctuate my message I will go ahead.

That’s all for now,

See you next time

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage: for a better world. Sagamore Venture.

[deathandthemaiden23]

Fireside Bonding (NSFW ONESHOT)

Death and Sidhela get frisky on a rainy evening in front of the fire.

He loved visiting her in her home, loved eating the food she often cooked for him (she had started taking note of the things he enjoyed the most, and made a point of making those things frequently as her own way of being affectionate), he loved bringing her gifts and seeing how she would always accept them with such enthusiasm; he enjoyed the domesticity of it all, because he wasn’t used to it. To be… Normal, in a sense, to live normally amongst the life he culled was a new experience, and he owed it all to her. It was fun to accompany her into town to window shop, to have little “dates” in the local tavern or spend evenings simply cuddling on her couch. He was a dark presence in this world, but she was a perfect complement to that. Dark in her own right, and morbid in her interests (if her art and the writing he’d seen and her own dry sense of humor was anything to go by), she was a fitting match for him indeed.

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

Following their first time having sex, Death found that he wanted to see Sidhela again more than ever before. It was strange; he’d never forged such a natural attachment to another living thing prior to this, and he’d certainly never gone so far as to get familiar enough to be so intimate in such a way with anyone. He’d always kept something of a distance, knowing that it would be ultimately useless and altogether foolish to develop a fondness for something that wouldn’t last longer than a second at best. With this one, however, he felt a relative ease in letting his guard down, because, well, Sidhela was afflicted with a curse of some form of immortality (even if he didn’t understand the ramifications of it or, really, how it was even possible in the first place), meaning that it was more or less safe to get close to her. And oh, how he fought to get close to her every single time they were together. It made him giddy, it thrilled him so to see her do the same, to gravitate towards him with inherent, implicit trust and faith in the security of his embrace. It revitalized him, really; that prolonged chase with el gatito was fun, certainly a fleeting source of enjoyment for him, but this… This was a whole other ballgame. This was a feeling he’d never truly been allowed the luxury of feeling before, so… He found himself addicted, dependent on it even. When the doldrums of his job got to be exhausting, he would simply think of her and all would be well again. He looked forward to his visits, he cherished them. He couldn’t visit every single day, of course, but he made sure to pop up every now and then whenever he had the time to.

The best part of it was that Sidhela relished his presence just as much. A lonely, isolated thing she was, just like him, without a friend beyond him but plenty of undeserved foes to strike fear into her still-beating heart and make her live in dread. She often never ventured into town, all but a recluse content to stay in the safety of her woodland cottage to avoid getting hurt; unless he happened to be with her, of course. She even shirked her own duties as a banshee on frequent occasion, much too petrified of the town’s negative reaction to her mere presence to summon the courage. She left it up to the other banshees instead, of which there were a few, but they rarely if ever spoke to her. She was not, after all, truly one of their kind, simply cursed to join them and share their burden of obligation. But there was something of a resentment there as well that she could feel, a sentiment of censure for her unwillingness to complete her newfound role in their society, so she just… Stayed away.

But he would protect her, oh yes he would. No creature would ever be so foolish as to threaten su reina, that which he cared for so fiercely. He was admittedly a touch possessive, a symptom, no doubt, of his reliance on her company, but luckily for him, he could see in Sidhela that she not only accepted that possessiveness, but enjoyed it as well. After all, how exciting to be the object of the affections of death himself, who was far more than well-equipped with skills of combat and self-defense to protect her from years of having to fight those that wouldn’t accept their mortal fate. One could not so much as say boo to her without him showing up to remedy that arrogance— and he had, on occasion. The few times that she gathered up the wherewithal to cry and keen as she was supposed to, making her presence as a banshee known to the townsfolk to herald his coming arrival, perhaps to someone sick or mortally injured, a few had tried to come after her with the proverbial torches and pitchforks. The world they lived in, after all, was still rather primeval, and society was often cursed with a certain mob mentality that rather irritated him to observe. But he would always show up before the moment of reckoning, and take not just whom she had called him for in the first place, but the lives of those who were foolish enough to try to lay hands on her. A few extra to send to the afterlife for their conceited hubris was no moral dilemma for him, really. It was their fault for threatening someone that he not only cared about, but even rather loved. He loved her.

Love was a strong word, of course, but it had been months, months of watching her be herself and silently pining and wishing that he could hold her, and damn it all to hell, he really did, he loved her to distraction. Death had never quite loved before; he didn’t know what it felt like before this to be sick with absolute fondness for another living soul, but now it was as clear to him as an azure sky of deepest summer. He loved visiting her in her home, loved eating the food she often cooked for him (she had started taking note of the things he enjoyed the most, and made a point of making those things frequently as her own way of being affectionate), he loved bringing her gifts and seeing how she would always accept them with such enthusiasm; he enjoyed the domesticity of it all, because he wasn’t used to it. To be… Normal, in a sense, to live normally amongst the life he culled was a new experience, and he owed it all to her. It was fun to accompany her into town to window shop, to have little “dates” in the local tavern or spend evenings simply cuddling on her couch. He was a dark presence in this world, but she was a perfect complement to that. Dark in her own right, and morbid in her interests (if her art and the writing he’d seen and her own dry sense of humor was anything to go by), she was a fitting match for him indeed.

And now that they’d finally consummated their budding relationship, he… Wanted more than anything to indulge his perverse urges again. He’d finally had a taste of something he’d never had the extravagance of tasting before, and it was so sweet and honied on his tongue, the feeling of intimacy with her as they laid together for the very first time that he wanted that sweetness again. And again, and again. Hell, if he had his way, they might partake in it every single time he visited from that point on, because he had about an eternity’s worth of time spent basically celibate to make up for. She was so wonderfully tight, just as he’d imagined she’d be, shamefully, alone in his own realm without another living soul to bother him in his fantasies. He’d been smitten with her demeanor and appearance from the moment they’d met, and it’d not taken long for him to want her in a carnal fashion as well as romantically. He tried so hard to hold himself back, but he spent those first few months of their “friendship” flirting with her almost mercilessly anyway because, oh, how he loved to make her blush. She always flirted back, even if often timid in her muted advances, too scared to fully reciprocate out of fear of rejection from him, but to tell the truth, he hadn’t thought of such a thing for even a second. It thrilled him to see her so clearly accepting his seductions without reservation; it was inestimably lucky, really, to curry favor with someone he fancied, being who and what he was, and to have those feelings truly reciprocated, so he knew not to take it for granted.

It had been a couple more weeks. A couple weeks, with visits occasionally sparse, but he earnestly tried to show up for her whenever he possibly could, because he knew how sad and disconsolate she would become without him around to brighten her doorstep and make her laugh and lavish her in the affection she had been so completely starved of for most of her life. He regretted to leave her on her own so often; she was fully grown and capable of living without him, of course, but he could tell she didn’t enjoy it when she had to. She had a profound sadness inside of her, he knew, a chronic condition. He’d noticed it on her within his first few visits, a persistent sense of dread he smelled. She was afflicted by constant paranoia and anxiety. She feared life, she found it terrifying for someone like her, and really, he couldn’t blame her. Perhaps it wasn’t healthy for her happiness to hinge on another being to cheer her up, but he couldn’t help himself from trying to regardless. He wanted her to live life to its fullest, he wanted her to see the value and merit in it, because life was a gift. If he could get her to live by simply living with her, he would. He wanted to help shoulder her burdens and take some of the weight off her aching back, the weight she’d been carrying for so long that he was honestly impressed she’d survived without breaking as long as she had in the first place. She was unpopular in the same way as an ogre was; disparaged, feared, detested by the general populace for daring to exist differently to them. But even the bizarre and the strange deserved to be loved, too. He knew that more than anyone.

“Oh Muerte, how I’ve missed you so. Please, come in!”

This was the first he’d seen her in a few days, and predictably, she was ecstatic to see him again.

“Have you been doing okay without me?” He asks her considerately as he steps inside. It had been raining out all day, practically pouring, and she found he was even colder to the touch than usual from being drenched on his way up the path to her cottage. He was wearing his hood up to shield himself from the downpour, and he didn’t usually do that. She thought it was cute.

“Just peachy, but I’m even better now that you’re here.” She answers pleasantly, closing the door behind him with a shy smile, then circling back around to approach him so she could see his sweet face again. “Oh, you’re soaked, mo ghra.” She tells him, stepping closer and reaching up on tiptoes to pull down his hood before smoothing her hands concernedly down the sides of his poncho, now damp with the rain outside so unforgiving. It comes pouring down in a furious torrent, and she knew that it would last for a while, maybe even for days. “Here, let me set your poncho up to dry in the bathroom, and you can come warm up by the fire with me.”

He found himself unable to refuse a proposal so delicious; he knew very well what she was doing, and it excited him. Smiling but silent, he removes his cloak, baring his chest to her as he places it in her waiting hands, absolutely taken with the way she shyly accepts it and briefly leaves to hang it up in the bathroom as she’d said she would. When she returns, she finds him already seated on the rug before the fireplace, rubbing his paws together as the glowing embers drift and float off into nothing from the roaring flames in front of him. She promptly takes a seat beside him, staring into the kindling herself as though she could see visions dancing there in the blaze. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye to see her absolutely transfixed by it, and it charms him so completely that he cannot resist himself. He takes her hand and squeezes it.

“What do you see, ninita?”

“Nothing specific.” She admits bashfully as she squeezes back. “W-Well, i-it… It reminds me of you, a little bit.”

“Of me?” He asks, a little bit puzzled but intrigued. He laughs. “I’m cold to the touch, pequena; how can the fire possibly remind you of me?”

“Well, visually, it reminds me of your eyes.” She explains, a little embarrassed by his amusement. “But… Fire itself… Something strong, passionate, with the potential to be destructive but being something ultimately essential to our way of life…” She trails off quietly. “Besides…” She says, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re not cold to me. You’re so warm, Muerte, like a blanket around my shoulders. You make me feel safe.”

“Mmm, well I’m happy to hear that.” He whispers in a low tone, his hand still wrapped around hers. “I gotta say, mi rosa, the time I’ve had with you has been… The happiest I’ve ever been.”

The fire flickers in her eyes, but there’s something else flickering there too; distinct joy, delight, at his words. “…R-Really…?” She asks, in a mouse-like voice. “I don’t… Bore you?”

“Why would you bore me?” He frowns.

“W-Well…” She begins awkwardly. “You’re death, mo chroi. You get to outlet your frustrations with your job through fighting those that resist you, which… Sounds pretty exciting to me.” She admits. “I just always wonder if you’re here out of obligation, or because you feel bad. I promise that you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to be.” She’s rambling now, but she can’t help herself, hopeless insecurity be damned. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to spend time with me.”

“Well, you can put your worry to bed, mi amada, because I’ve never felt that way, and never will.” He says, his tone almost short.

Taken aback, she reflexively tries to pull her hand away from his out of self-consciousness, but he doesn’t let her. He grips it tighter. He fully turns to face her now, his eyes blazing with something fiery and passionate.

“Nina tonta, you’re a delight to me.” He says, his tone slightly chiding.

She starts to tear up before him, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her free arm. “No one’s ever said something like that to me before.” She tells him almost disjointedly. “…A-Are you sure?”

“Of course, bonita gatito…” He smiles. “Don’t you know I go out of my way to come here? People need me the world over, and yet I keep finding myself here, again and again, for months and months on end. This town is nothing special on its own, but with you here, it’s heaven on earth, mi nina.”

“S-Stop.” She says, her voice drenched in diffidence and self-doubt as she looks up at him. “I bet you’re j-just… Saying that to make me feel better.”

“I don’t lie. I have no reason to.” He says firmly, as if insulted by the notion. “Why do you even think I’m here in the first place? It’s not out of obligation, it’s because I love you.” He stops immediately. Mierda, he shouldn’t have said that so candidly, shouldn’t have let his words just get away from him like that. What if she didn’t feel the same?

“Mi Muerte…” She breathes, the wind promptly knocked out of her at his confession, unable to say anything else. He… He loved her? Her? “I-I—”

“You don’t have to say it back.” He reassures her, staring into the fire again. “I just thought, in the interest of total honesty, and because you seem so sad tonight, that you might want to hear how I really feel. That’s all.”

She’s still quiet, and he finds himself inwardly cringing at his confession now, wishing that he could almost take it back, but then… She wraps her arm around his and leans into his shoulder, nuzzling there.

“…I love you too, you know.”

Something wonderful and warm flutters inside of the polarizing coldness of his body. “That’s… Good.” He says awkwardly, painfully bereft of any social tact in this moment. “That’s… I mean, wow.”

“You’re not freaked out?” She asks him nervously, playing with her hands now.

He laughs. “Mi amor, how you tickle me. You’re kind, talented, stunningly gorgeous…” He grins at her. “How could I be freaked out? How could I not love you?”

“No one beside my family ever has, and to be completely honest, I always thought they just loved me out of obligation.” She sniffles. “I never expected to be loved. Not truly. Ever.”

She’s tearing up again and he won’t have it. He pinches the bridge of his snout, almost frustrated. Not with her, but with the insecurity that plagued her. It was a constant uphill battle with that, her greatest demon, and it wasn’t her fault, but damn it if it didn’t piss him off. “Well… You are.” He assures her slowly. “If no one else is gonna love you, I’m gonna be there to fill the void. Do you understand? I’m not leaving, you’re stuck with me now. Forever. Or…” He trails off, a bit insecure himself. “For as long as you want to be, anyway.”

She smiles at him. “I think forever sounds just perfect. I don’t know if I’ll live that long, b-but… As long as I do, anyway, I… I want to stay with you.”

“Good.” He whispers, smiling too. “You complete me, mi nina, in a way that no one ever has.”

She pauses for a moment. “W… W-What do you…” She stops now, too timid to continue.

“Yes?”

Another pause, and then she simply takes a deep breath before forcing herself to speak again. “W-What do you think of… Of marriage, Muerte?” She asks in an apparent nonsequitur. She’s playing with her hands again.

“Well…” He says, leaning back slightly in his seated position with a sigh. “I think it’s a wonderful celebration of love and life. To devote yourself to someone completely is a beautiful thing, I think. It doesn’t always last for the mortals, of course, but… I admire it.” His smile is a bit knowing now as he glances in her direction again. “…Why do you ask?”

“N-No reason.” She stutters bashfully, avoiding his eyes now.

“Was there… Something else, you were thinking of asking me?” He presses a bit teasingly. Her silence is as much telling as it is delicious for him. He chuckles when she doesn’t answer, still clinging to his arm and quietly fiddling with her hands. “My my…” He says quietly. “Well, maybe someday… Maybe you will, or maybe it’ll be me… Maybe…” He finds it adorable the way her jaw hangs open ever so slightly at his implications, her mouth opening and closing in an attempt to find something, anything to say in response. “…Don’t worry, Sidhela, try not to think about it too much. That’s in the future.” He says reassuringly. “For now, let’s just enjoy the journey, okay?”

“Mmhm.” She agrees awkwardly, choosing to look into the fire again because she was far too embarrassed to face him right now.

“I think that’s enough sour conversation for now, though.” He says, almost cheerily in an attempt to offset the gloom permeating the space. “Say…” He begins in a lower tone now, almost in a whisper as though he didn’t want to be heard. By anyone but her, anyway. “How would you feel about passing the time doing something else? Might cheer you up.”

“What did you have in mind?” She asks him, though she’s silently hoping for him to propose one activity in particular that she’d been desperate to revisit ever since they’d first done it together a couple weeks before.

“Well…” He trails off. “Why don’t you tell me, hmm? What do you want, ninita?”

She smiles at him, pausing again for a seemingly eternal moment before slowly climbing into his lap now. “Y-You.” She answers, shy but sure of her words. “I want you, Muerte.”

“Well, that’s just perfect, princesa, because I want you too.” He says, grinning at her as she begins to straddle him. “I take it you’re after something… Shameful, yes?” He asks, playing idly with a lock of her silver hair. “Sins of the flesh, perhaps? You’re blushing now… I think you want something you’re too shy to ask for.” He starts to unlace her corset slowly, savoring the way her breath hitches in her throat at his advances. “Tch tch, nina cachonda…”

“M-Muerte…” She breathes, devoid of any other words as she lets him start to undress her without resistance.

He chuckles at her and finishes unlacing her corset before setting it carefully off to the side. “Making love on a bearskin rug…” He sighs. “A bit of a cliché, but, really, I couldn’t care less. Sounds fun.”

She giggles, but her heart jumps into her throat with a girlish gasp as he promptly places his hands at the hem of her dress and effortlessly yanks it down to expose her breasts. “M-M—”

“Shh. I think the fire will keep us plenty warm.” He says to her in a voice so naturally seductive that it sets her on edge with excruciating arousal. “Get comfortable, pequena, we’re going to be here a while.”

He attempts to help her shimmy out of her dress in their seated position, and all that ends up accomplished over the course of the next couple minutes is some awkward fumbling around that ends in them giggling helplessly together out of shared amusement for the situation. When their laughter finally dies down again, he rubs his chin thoughtfully, trying to figure out a suitable solution to their quagmire. They clearly didn’t think this through, but hey, that was all part of the fun, now wasn’t it?

“Say…” He speaks up again, breaking the silence with a leisurely chuckle as he rubs her naked shoulders. “You have… Other dresses like this, yes?”

She looks at him with puzzlement, unable to understand what he meant in asking this. “I-I… Haha… Yes…?” She answers uncertainly with a nervous giggle, not quite grasping the almost sinister glint dancing in his eyes now.

He chuckles again, but it’s darker this time. “…Good.”

“W-Wh—"

He grips her dress again, pulled down just enough to expose her vulnerable breasts, and savagely rips it open. The fabric makes a deafening tear sound in the otherwise silent room as she gasps, but she’s given no time to process the wind getting knocked out of her as he shifts and slams her down on the bearskin rug beneath them. He climbs over her, his eyes looking… Unchecked and feral now to the extent that it almost terrified her, but her mounting arousal only constricts around her more fiercely as he continues in ripping her gown down the front and all the way down to the hem at the bottom to strip her bare for his hungry gaze. She’s just as beautiful now as the last time he saw her like this, perhaps even more so if that were even possible, the subsurface scattering in her skin before the fire almost besetting her with an utterly bewitching and ethereal glow that was only just barely present in her room during their last encounter.

He stops for a moment, however, snuffling at the air until he eventually follows the scent closer to her body. He frowns again. “…You smell like fear.” He notes with displeasure, his observation validated as he watches her start to squirm uncomfortably beneath him. “What’s the matter, mi nina? Can you tell me?”

“I-It’s… S-Stupid and doesn’t make sense.” She tells him worriedly, subtly putting herself down as he was unfortunately all too used to her doing out of her insecurity and low self-esteem.

“Well, let’s fix whatever the problem is now so I can fuck you without feeling bad.” He sighs, though he’s smiling at her again.

Just as he’d hoped, his vulgar words are enough of a shock to her system to reset her timid demeanor to something more blithe. She squeaks embarrassedly at his words but starts to giggle, covering her face with a groan as he waits patiently above for her to continue speaking. “O dhia…” She whispers, almost to herself. “I-I… Do you…” She uncovers her face just enough to peer at him from behind her hands. “D-Do you… Like my body, M-Muerte?”

He's taken by surprise, that this was the thing she was apparently so insecure about. “W-Wh… What kind of a question is that?” He asks her with a lighthearted chuckle.

“…A valid one.” Her voice is unamused, and the way she seems to take this so dead seriously simply enchants him and endears her to him even more.

“Oh, mi flor…” He coos to her. “You have nothing to worry about. Would I have gone this far…” He trails off, playing idly with the ripped fabric of her dress to illustrate his point. “…If I didn’t find you sexy?”

“S-Sexy…?” She breathes. “O-Oh wow, I-I…”

“Where’s all this coming from, anyway?” He asks her with a cocked eyebrow. “You weren’t nearly so insecure two weeks ago. Did I do anything to make you feel such a way?”

“N-No, no!” She disclaims quickly. “I-It’s just that… It’s just… It was pretty dark in my room, a-and… Now we’re right in front of the fire… And now you can see every little detail—”

He interrupts her rambling with a kiss and she immediately calms, her shoulders now untensing as he pulls back to look her in the eyes. “…You are a painting, mi corazon. Even in your perceived imperfections, you are a work of art. Don’t forget that.”

“You don’t think th-that… It’s weird, o-or… Or gross? I have stretch marks everywhere.” She laments diffidently. She squeezes her own fat with a kind of resigned, disconsolate sigh. “Everyone always called me names.”

“Well, riddle me this, mi ninita…” He says, leaning closer. “Do the words of fools matter much in the grand scheme of things?”

She starts to squirm again, though not out of discomfort this time. Desire. It was desire now. “N-No…” She admits bashfully.

He smiles again. “I’m not going to tell you that my opinion is the only one that matters, but…” He slides his hands over hers, dwarfing them in size as he caresses the rolls of her stomach now. “I think you are just… Perfect.”

Her breath hitches in her throat as she looks up at him with glistening red eyes. “You’re so good to me, mo ghra.” She notes almost wistfully.

“Well… You deserve everything, mi pequena.” He shrugs her off, still rubbing her belly. “But here’s a question for you…” He speaks again, but he pauses there. “How do you feel… About me?”

She blinks up at him. “Oh, Muerte…” She whispers. She reaches up to cup the fur of his cheek gently. “I couldn’t ask for a more handsome companion than you. Truly.”

His tail starts to sway and wag behind him. “Really?”

“Really really.” She smiles.

Hesitating again, he decides he just can’t help himself. “Tell me of… Other things, you like about me.”

She giggles quietly, finding his own insecurity cute in its own right. “W-Well, I like how dedicated you are to your work, a-and… I like your conversational warmth, and your wit, and your heart. I like that you protect me from the people that would see me dead, a-and… You’re so strong, macushla, i-it…”

“Does my strength intimidate you?”

“Y-Yes.” She answers shyly, shivering with unabashed want at the way he grins at such an admission. “But, in a way that makes me weak. A good way.”

One of his hands, still lingering at her belly, starts to caress a more intimate part of her now, trailing down between her legs. “Is your weakness here, by any chance?”

She answers him via throwing her head back in the rug beneath her head with a shuddering whine and spreading her legs ever so slightly to allow him deeper access.

He cannot resist himself a devilishly amused chuckle at her wantonness. The pads of his fingers delve deeper into her nether region until they find her vulnerable slit with a cursory stroke. She’s wet, so wet that it completely wracks his body with furious desire. This had gone on long enough, he decided. He wanted to play with her now. No more with her insecurities, nor with his own… He wanted to take that tight little cunt between her legs, and he would. He had already decided.

He begins snarling under his breath as he withdraws his fingers. A sticky string of arousal follows them and he deliberates for a split second before raising them to his maw and taking a generous lick, quaking with unshakeable pleasure at the rich, earthy taste of her as well as losing himself with mad desire at the sight of her flustered face, no doubt mortified by the lascivious gesture. Oh, he could lower his own between her legs and start lapping away at her cute little pussy with reckless abandon right now, but… There was another urge inside of him altogether stronger that he was losing the wherewithal to keep prolonging. He wanted to be joined with her at their most intimate places, he wanted to be inside of her, close to her, breathing her in and becoming one with her. He wanted to knot her again and pump her belly full-to-bursting with his cum, for no other reason than he had loved seeing his pearly essence oozing out of her well-fucked hole when he finally withdrew from her the last time they’d done this together. And, to tell the honest truth… Procreation? It had never had any real personal meaning to him as a concept prior to this, prior to her, but oh… The thought of her belly somehow swelling with his young was so delicious now, and the mere idea of starting a family with her, creating life for her to nurture alongside him (because he knew she would be the absolute best mother to his children), it was…

He shivers, regaining a hold on his composure just enough to lean back on his haunches and start removing his pants, beyond pleased and hopelessly turned on when she rises just enough to start helping him. He stops to let her do as she was intent on doing, in an unmistakable gesture of not only consent, but mutual want and desire, staring down at her with fond, almost lidded eyes as she starts to fumble awkwardly with the hem of his drawers. She falters for a moment but manages to keep going, pulling them down over his hindlegs so he can peel them off the rest of the way before casting them to the side, and now that they’re both more or less naked in each other’s arms (he didn’t see the point, really, in removing the wrappings from his arms and legs, as he was likely to have to leave not long after they were done anyway), they slowly sink back down to the rug and start to kiss again as she spreads her legs for him. He takes his girth within his hand and lines it up at her plush, tight hole, beginning to push in with a shuddering snarl as her walls immediately work to pull his cock inside with no resistance.

“Mue-Muerte…!” She gasps as he sinks in deeper. He manages to bottom out in a ridiculously short amount of time; she was that slick and accommodating and open for him even despite the excruciating tightness.

Growling into her hair as he hunches over her, he pulls out and eases back in, immediately picking up a steady rhythm that drives them both insane over time; it felt good to move at a slow canter, of course, because that meant they could easily savor these sensations for as long as they pleased, but the pursuit of pleasure was selfish and impatient, and their respective orgasms, while both still dormant within their cores at this point, were already beginning to wake within them and make them greedy for immediate release.

He juxtaposes his gentle thrusts with the dominant gesture of tangling a paw in her hair and gripping tightly there, the savage pull on her scalp enough to make her melt and mewl beneath him helplessly like a bitch in heat. She spreads her thighs for him as wide as they’ll go to the point of aching in her pelvis, unable to be coherent for the time being beyond a mess of blubbering whines and whimpers that fill him with resolve to simply fuck her all the harder and faster. He himself is reduced to what Sidhela could only perceive to be various almost jumbled obscenities in his language, filthy, naughty words that, while she didn’t fully understand, made her all the more hopelessly desperate for him nonetheless. It was the passion in his voice, it was low and intense and it made her feel small in the best way possible. He seethes and snarls on top of her, practically foaming at the mouth with carnal lust the likes of which he honestly didn’t think himself capable before now. He couldn’t help it; she had succeeded in bringing out a side of him that, before now, likely didn’t have the potential to exist in the first place. He was forever changed by her, and her by him.

The wet slapping sounds of their bodies continuously joining makes her face burn furnace hot over time, and this is perfectly alleviated by his loving, almost grooming licks upon her cheeks as he ruts in and out of her with reckless abandon. The fur of the rug and the warmth of the fire just beside them sets a sultry musk about their bodies in motion, and it seems that ages pass without resolution to their carnal activity. Until Death spontaneously shifts them both, rolling over to pull her on top of him.

“You’re going to ride now, ninita, okay?” He tells her, dominant but still gentle. His paws creep around to her perfect, fleshy asscheeks and squeeze there lecherously as if to encourage her. She nods shakily and does as she’s instructed, gasping breathlessly as his cock fills her again in a way completely different than before. It’s a gamut of pleasure-pain that renders her almost completely speechless if not for her feverishly whimpering his name, as if sobbing, as if keening for him like the adorable little banshee she was.

He groans in complete and total ecstasy at the sheer orgasmic sensation of her tight walls hugging his shaft as she moves on top of him now. She’s so small in comparison to him even in this position; she’s completely dwarfed by his frame as she rides and bounces helplessly on his cock, almost squealing in total ecstasy all the while as she takes him so perfectly. He’s squeezing her ass intermittently between delicate thrusts of her pelvis grinding against his, and after nigh on half an hour of excruciatingly delicious intimacy, he can finally feel his orgasm starting to loom over him like a rising tidal wave, and he can feel and see that she’s close too if her wanton behavior and increasingly faster pace are anything to go by.

“Ay, mi amada…” He grunts, now starting to buck up into her now in an earnest attempt to satisfy his own raging lust as well as heighten her own pleasure. It works wonders, and if it were even possible, she seems to be bouncing harder and faster than before. “Muy bien… Buena nina…” He offers her lush praise in exchange for her eager obeisance to him. “You’re getting close, I can feel it… Bring it home, mi nina preciosa… Cum for me…”

She nods quickly in acknowledgement of his gentle coaxing, but she’s not quite there, not just yet. But she’s so docile and submissive that all she can do is keep moving; some masochistic part of her, however, wants to be chastised by him. She almost wants embarrassment and degradation— completely consensual of course, but the thought of that embarrassment and degradation from something so great and strong and powerful, to, again, be made to feel small in the most wonderful, most completely blissful way… It’s getting close, it’s getting closer and closer as she moves more excitedly on top of him until it finally hits her, knocks the wind out of her like a suckerpunch to the gut. She seizes up and begins to convulse, sobbing his name over and over like a broken record as she clings to him tight and simply rides it out. He’d been saving his own climax for the trigger of her own, and now that she was cumming he felt free to do the same; before long his release is starting to pool inside of her as his knot engorges and seals off her entrance again, and he shifts once more to yank her into his lap in an intimate seated position as his cum continues to coat her vulnerable walls.

“Yes…” His voice is guttural and low as his climax finishes passing over him, bringing him back down as he stares down into her with lidded eyes denoting complete and total satisfaction. He glances down at where their bodies are joined and smiles a smug and dirty smile. “Mierda, ninita, you’re milking my cock dry…”

She sucks in a hitching gasp at the sheer filthiness of his words and it only makes her shudder once more with tingling pleasure in her nether regions. Her creamy little pussy twitches and spasms from the residual threads of her orgasm still lingering even now. She whimpers into his mouth as he takes her face in his hands and dips forward to give her a sweet and passionate kiss on the lips, now starting to groom her again as his cock still swells and leaks his essence inside her passage so eager to accept it.

She giggles at his loving ministrations; it tickles, the sensation of his long and sinuous tongue curling against the heat of her cheek, and it only enamors her that much more with him. “M-Muerte…” She sighs adoringly in a tone so sweet and high-pitched. He pulls back and chuckles at her submission to his gestures of affection, completely enchanted by the tactual sensation of her arms sliding underneath his to rest on his back to hug him closer to her.

“Did you enjoy yourself, pequena?” He asks her in a voice so perfectly sultry and lush that it makes her toes curl.

“Immensely, mo chroi.” She smiles up at him with another giggle, hugging him fiercely to her chest as his smile spreads into a wolfish grin.

“That’s good to hear.” He whispers happily. He clears his throat, straightening his back now. “Well, I think we’ll be here for a while, so I’ll ask you now— do you want another round after we’re finished with this? I don’t want to keep going if you’re too exhausted to take it.”

“As far as I’m concerned, I could go all night.” She tells him bashfully. “But… I know you probably can’t stay with me that long.”

“Si, ninita, it’s probably not a good idea.” He admits, but the way she deflates ever so slightly at the thought of him leaving, it tugs at his heartstrings. “Ah…” He trails off, contemplating his options. “…I can stay a little while longer, at least. See you off to dreamland.”

She smiles a little wistfully. “I appreciate you staying with me.” She tells him vulnerably, closing her eyes as she presses her cheek fondly against his chest. She can hear his beating heart, and it makes her own swell with unmistakable love. She loved him. So, so much. “Will there ever be a night where you stay with me into the morning?” She asks quietly.

He’s silent, which gives her a most disappointing answer. “Perhaps someday, mi amada, when I can stop time, even if briefly. I’d stay with you every single day if I didn’t have lives to take.”

“I know.” She acknowledges sadly. “I just always hate saying goodbye.”

“Well, it’s never really goodbye.” He reasons with her in an attempt to bring her comfort. “I always come back, don’t I?”

“You do, b-but… I just want you here with me. I want you here with me always.” She admits, a blackened tear slipping down her cheek as her lip begins to tremble.

“Hey, hey…” He says concernedly, tilting her chin up to look at him as he seems to sense her despondency. He wipes away the tears streaming down her cheeks now. “It’s okay, cosa dulce… It really is, I promise.”

“I love you, Muerte…” She tells him desperately. “Tell me you love me too.”

“I do.” He assures her. “I love you to distraction.”

“R-Really?”

“Really really.” He smiles.

She sniffles, not asking any more of him, simply holding him close in silent content. They sit in silence for a time, still joined together down below for quite a long time, but in that time they were free to engage in more lighthearted conversation that eventually became passionate lovemaking once more until she practically passed out in his arms. After his knot shrinks again, he carefully pulls out of her and carries her fatigued body effortlessly down the hall, entering her room and depositing her gently into her canopy bed before pulling the covers over her and tucking her in.

“Sweet dreams, mi nina…” He sighs, though she’s not awake enough to really hear or respond to him. His tail sways as he turns to close the door behind him. But before he does, he takes one final glance back at her, sound asleep in her bed, and smiles.

He redresses in the quiet solitude of her living room and then finally takes his leave, feeling regretful, now more so than ever, that he had a duty he could never escape. He whistles, his tone almost sad and somber as he walks slowly down the rainy path out of the woods. He would come back, he always did, but the fact remained that he never wanted to leave in the first place. Despite the dreariness in his funereal pace, he finds himself with a sad but hopeful smile; maybe, just maybe, he could one day take her with him. She could stay at his side as he carried out his obligation, and then they might never be apart again. He could show her his realm, his most private sanctum reserved only for him, but… He would share it with her. She was his now, su reina, and he was rather resolved in his mind to find a solution to their problem somehow. At the very least, to improve upon it. His whistle turns blithe now, and the woods rustle contentedly with the wind, as if bolstered by the carefree tone in his voice. And all the while, back in her quiet, simple little cottage, she slept sound and peaceful, dreaming of him and of the idea that they could stay together forever.

#puss in boots #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots death #puss in boots 2 #pib #pib2 #lobo #el lobo #muerte #shrek #shrek oc #banshee oc #plus size oc #death x oc #oneshot #fluff #kissing #cuddling

[thedawnbeauty]

Privately, Aurora had met with Caspian in the middle of the night and showed him the letter Lena had written. “ She’s asking.. if I could go to her.” She pleaded as she watched Caspian read over the letter several times, as he looked back to her.

“ I’ll let you go on one condition..” he lifted a pen from his desk “ You write a letter to your mother and you tell her everything..” Aurora hesitated, as she took the pen, sighing deeply. She was partially relieved, and partially terrified her mother would think even worse of her. Caspian sat for hours by the fireside, watching as Aurora drafted several pieces together, until she was satisfied with one, folding it, as she sealed it off with her signature. She looked back, seeing the sun was setting, Caspian had remained sitting the entire time, reading over an old book, as he lowered his glasses, looking up to her. He eyed the guard, who took the letter from Aurora, he vowed he knew an old woman, who can guarantee Hana would get the letter. She stood, listening to guard inform them of the arrival for the Ithilian wedding. Caspian stood crossing his arms behind his back “ there is a new guard among the Blackwoods, I have asked him to join you on this little venture, are you bringing anyone else with you?”

Aurora moved to clip on her blue veil “ You invited the Rovan prince on my trip?” She questioned him “ I heard his sister has been around, is she coming too?” As Caspian extended his arm, as they were soon going to experience, Sky wedding ceremony, and together they all watched it the ceremony, witnessing a beautiful moment. As soon as it was over, she stopped Caspian before he could go to the ceremony “ I want the sister too..”

Caspian nodded, giving his permission for her to ask her. “ So it’ll be you, the sister, the Rovan prince anyone else?” He questioned, seeing she was now building a small court to be following her to Ireland.

“ and Ella Mcloud.” She spoke firmly, as the guards escorted her back to the ship, to return her to the Blackwood Isles.

Soon, her adventures would begin.

[alittlestarling]

Heavy armor, light armor, and werewolf for my favorite your gal Katja?

Heavy Armor: Do you carry a lot of stress? L O T S! Katja has lived her life for her family, basically, and carries the weight of responsibility around with her. Not to mention that, when she's revealed as Dragonborn, it adds more to her plate in terms of how she's seen, what she can do to help and how to protect herself and the people she loves. Needless to say, she deserves a fucking spa day at the end of this whole ordeal, give this girl a deep tissue massage and some mud masks and fruit-infused water.

Light Armor: What do you do to relax? Before everything, Katja would spend time reading. Outdoors was preferrable, but scrunched up by the fireside is a close second for favorite spots. She also loves to knit and, when they had the supplies, would try to stitch together blankets and socks for the cold. When she's High Queen, she still enjoys these things, but also has taken up new hobbies, like gardening for fun (not survival) and learning to weave. A cup of tea at night, her partners in bed with her, and a good book to read aloud is a wonderful way to unwind after long days of rebuilding Skyrim.

Werewolf: Do you prefer the wilderness or civilization? Both in equal measure. Anneka has now inherited the running around hunting genes Katja originally had, but she still has a soft spot for venturing away from the towns, either on foot or horseback, to pick flowers and herbs or to enjoy the sunlight on a spring day. The cities she's learned to love more because, once she started traveling all across the continent, she was able to enjoy this life of wanderlust that she never thought she'd wanted until then. She had spent her entire young adult and into early adulthood life in a small hamlet in the Rift; the world is so much bigger and brighter than that slice of land. Cities have a lot of interesting people and new foods to eat, what's not to enjoy?

#katja alandersdottir #skyrim asks #i love my nord bab #rhetoricalrogue #thanks for the ask mwah mwah

[bologoday]

Rozana – Rural Commerce Start-Up Receives an Investment of USD 22.5 Mn from Bertelsmann India Investments (BII), Fireside Ventures and others

The funding will be utilized to fuel Rozana expansion into new districts, upgrade its technology platform, and increase hiring in technology, product, and operations teams.

Over 90% of the consumers are first time e-commerce users.

Overwhelming majority of Peer Partners are women.

06 March 2024, India: Rozana, a rural commerce startup announced its latest funding round of USD 22.5 Mn. The round was led by Bertelsmann India Investments (BII) with participation from Fireside Ventures and existing investors. Rozana’s mission is to leverage tech and data science to cater to unique local demands of 1 billion Indians outside the scope of online commerce.

Founded in 2021 by Ankur Dahiya, Adwait Vikram Singh, Mukesh Christopher and Prithvi Pal Singh. Rozana operates an e-commerce platform and logistics network focused exclusively on serving the needs of rural communities in India. The company presently serves more than 12000 villages across 13 districts in Uttar Pradesh and Haryana.

The new capital will be used to expand Rozana’s warehousing and logistics reach into new districts, enhance its technology platform, and boost hiring across technology, product and operations teams.

“Rural India represents a massive and underserved e-commerce opportunity consisting of nearly a billion people,” said Ankur Dahiya, CEO and Co-founder of Rozana. “With this funding, we will continue building out our logistics and supply chain infrastructure to reach new districts and empower rural communities with access to essential products.”

“The opportunity in rural India is greatly underappreciated and this team is the ideal one to unlock it. The offering created by Ankur, Adwait and Mukesh is outstanding and it is hard to find a company with such consumer love.” expressed Rohit Sood, Partner at Bertelsmann India Investments. “The possibility to create meaningful impact in millions of lives excites us and we are thrilled to partner with Rozana on this journey.”

Rozana has built a hyperlocal e-commerce model utilizing village-based “peer partners” to make last-mile deliveries. This allows Rozana to offer rural customers convenience through delivery to their doorstep while keeping costs low. The company currently has a network of over 18000 peer partners, who are able to earn additional income through Rozana.

“We know that rural India offers a great opportunity to build the next generation of assisted commerce businesses. Rozana’s focus on providing a wide range of products across categories in rural markets and the unique background of their founders make them well-poised to build a very successful business. The Rozana model of appointing peer partners from within the village communities, especially women, is equally commendable. We are excited to join them in this journey,” said Kanwal Singh, Founder and Managing Partner, Fireside Ventures.

The round also saw significant participation from Vivek Gupta, Co-Founder, Licious, who now serves on the board of the company. “I first met the founders at an investor event, the founders told me about India’s rural landscape and the opportunity along with the challenges. Their understanding of rural India after spending years working in supply chain with rural focus intrigued me about Rozana. I traveled to remote villages and was very impressed to see the aspirations and key pain points of the consumer. Rozana is building an impressive model for that part of India, which has been largely outside the scope of the tech revolution”, expressed Vivek.

“At 3one4 Capital, we are excited about the commerce potential waiting to be unlocked beyond tier-1 in India. With Rozana’s deep network and consumer insight in this segment, they’re poised to revolutionize and capitalize on this untapped market. We are thrilled to partner with the Rozana team as they lead the charge in transforming a peer-led distribution network, unlocking new avenues for commerce in India,” said Nitya Agarwal, VP, Investments, 3one4 Capital.

Rozana, has presence and operates across 13 districts spanning Uttar Pradesh and Haryana, facilitated by an extensive network of approximately 18000 peer partners, commonly referred to as last-mile partners. These peer partners predominantly consist of village residents, with over 90% of them being women. Their primary responsibility involves consolidating orders and making deliveries within their local communities, typically comprising 30 to 40 households.

Rozana will be working very closely with Binny Bansal’s xto10x to work on creating India’s fastest-growing rural commerce company. xto10x is working on a long-term partnership with Rozana on warehouse design, last-mile delivery, technology, category launch, etc.

For more such News Kindly Check blogoday.com

#indiannews #e commerce #startup #articles #digitalbusines #digitalnews #tech news #realestatenews