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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

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Title: Kismet {11}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy

Words: 7k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: The musical notes emoji 🎶 signifies a song being sung. They are the lyrics.

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***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

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🎶 “But I don't wanna give up. Baby, I just want you to get up. Lately, I've been a little fed up. Wish you would just focus on—me. Can you focus on me? Baby, can you focus on me?”

The sounds of H.E.R filled the semi-rustic kitchen as you moved around it, checking on the multiple things you were making. Her album was one of your go-to things for mellowing out. You sang along and got lost vocalizing along with her. It didn’t take long for you to forget what time it was and that you weren’t exactly alone in the house. As the song ended and the next came on, you held your hands in the air, already feeling the opening of Girls Need Love Too.

🎶 “Honestly, I'm tryna stay focused. You must think I've got to be joking when I say. I don't think I can wait. I just need it now. Better swing my way.”

The lyrics were hitting you as right as gospel right about now. Pulling open the oven, you checked on the treats inside, making sure they were rising just the way they needed to. After you were pleased with their progress, you checked your pots on the stove one more time, then went back to the pitcher you were mixing your famous mimosas. That was when DSVN came on, and the hypnotizing sound of the lyrics with the beat made your mind drift back to Henry, especially when the hook came on. It sounded like it was made just for you in this situation.

For the next few minutes, you focused on trying not to burn breakfast rather than dancing or singing. That was until Santana came on, and you couldn’t help but bust out your best salsa moves to Carlos’ electric guitar and Latin flare. The song was so catchy that you quickly got carried away winding your hips and doing your best Shakira impersonation. If she were standing in front of you, you thought she’d be proud because you gave it everything you had. Before you knew it, the song was almost over, and you’d forgotten about being quiet, and were now singing along to the song as you danced around the kitchen.

“Someone woke up on the right side of the bed.”

Your scream was loud, so loud it bounced off the walls of the room. Your head nearly snapped off your neck from the force of which you spun around.

“Oh my god!”

Henry stood there pinching his lips, trying to stop himself from laughing at you.

“You scared me half to death.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I um—I smelled food and heard music, and here you are,” Henry explained.

“Oh no, no. How long were you standing there?”

Another smile spread across his face, and it was all you needed to know he’d probably seen the whole thing. Embarrassment filled you.

“Oh god, no.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. You can dance and sing. I enjoyed the show.”

You snorted while shaking your head, trying to overcome your embarrassment. When you met his eyes again, you still saw the amusement there.

“Good morning,” you began.

“Good morning. What’s—what’s going on?”

He motioned to the organized chaos around you.

“Oh, breakfast.”

“Did you order?”

“Nope. One hundred percent handmade but these hands,” you replied, holding up your hands and flexing your fingers for emphasis.

Henry’s eyebrows shot up as he approached the kitchen island.

“You cook.”

Approaching the same island on the opposite side, you nodded. “I cook and bake and mix and clean, iron, and do laundry.”

Henry snorted and nodded, clearly amused by the sarcasm in your voice.

“Cute.”

You smiled and leaned against it, resting your elbows on the wooden island keeping your eyes on him.

“I know I don’t look it, but they do say never judge a book by its cover,” you replied.

Henry nodded before he spoke. “For the record, I’ve never judged you.”

You studied him for several moments before your eyes drifted over him, taking in his tan linen pants and cream shirt. He looked good, and you almost got lost in that before you snapped out of it. Clearing your throat, you pushed off the island and looked around.

“I’m almost done.”

“What’s for breakfast, chef Taylor?”

You smiled, “I’m glad you asked Mr. Cavill. We have lavender vanilla bean beignets, scrambled eggs, sausages, and of course mimosas.”

Henry’s eyebrows again shot up. “Wow. How long have you been up?”

Turning from him, you dropped a few mint leaves into the pitcher you’d just mixed. “Well, I actually haven’t slept yet.”

“So you’ve been up all night?”

“Yep.”

Sliding to the right, you turned off the oven and took out the beignets to place them on the stove to cool.

“Why? Is everything all right?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’m a night—insomniac.”

He was going to find out one way or another throughout this vacation anyway, you reasoned with yourself.

“Really?”

He sounded hesitant but also surprised.

“Yeah, most of the time.”

You used the time he stood there in a state of shock to finish up what you were doing before turning back to him.

“Are you going to pass out later or soon?”

“Nope. Come on. All done. Can you grab those two?”

You nodded your head to the two platters on the stove as you took the others walking out of the kitchen to the outdoor dining table he’d shown you yesterday. Once he saw the table that had two other platters and set place settings, he exclaimed.

“Wow.”

“I know, but I like to cook.”

“Everything smells incredible,” Henry complimented as he stood at one of the Rattan chairs waiting for you to sit first.

Once you sat down, you motioned for him to begin. “Dig in.”

A few minutes passed with the two of you loading your plates with various items. Once you were finished, you took up the pitcher and poured drinks for you both. When he brought one of your beignets to his mouth, you paused and watched him sink his teeth into it. As soon as he did, he moaned so loud it filled the space and drifted off.

“Holy--,” he began but never finished because he took several more bites finishing his first one. Once he’d swallowed and reached for another, he continued. “How did you learn to make beignets?”

“Well, it began with my Gramaw, but eventually, it was experimenting.”

He bit into another and rolled his eyes into the back of his head, and groaned. “These are heaven.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

Covering his food-filled mouth, he spoke, “Love them, get it correct.”

You snorted and nodded as you began to eat. The view before you caught your eye once again, and getting lost was easy. The morning was beautiful, warm, and calm, with a gentle breeze that carried the salt in the air from the nearby sea. You didn’t know who wouldn’t love waking up to this every day. It was then you realized how badly you’d needed a vacation after all.

“You stare out a lot.”

Henry’s voice brought your eyes back to him to find his already on you.

“I’m sorry,” you began with a soft smile. “Another thing about me, I do that—a lot.”

“What’re you thinking about?”

You looked out again and nudged your head to the view. “How incredible this view is and that I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve taken a vacation,” you confessed.

“Tell me about it. I was literally running on fumes. I have no idea how I made it this far,” Henry said.

You continued to eat and fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“Was there anything particular you wanted to do today?”

“Like what?”

“There’s so much to do. I know a good spa. There’s diving, boat tours of this incredible lagoon, wine tasting, touring, driving along cote d'Azur. You name it, and it can be done,” he listed off.

“A lot of choices.”

You brought your legs up and hugged them to your body as you continued to eat while thinking about your options.

“What do you feel like doing?”

“I don’t mind either way,” Henry quickly responded.

That didn’t help you one bit, but you made the decision all the same. “Nothing screams vacation like a bikini, and a beach, so let’s live it up.”

He smiled as he nodded. “All right. We have a plan then,” he said, clapping his hands.

The rest of breakfast was comfortable and peaceful. Neither of you seemed to mind that conversation fell to the wayside because you were both lost in the food and scenery before you. After breakfast, you and Henry managed to do the dishes and clean up the kitchen together as you endured his teasing on the multitude of things you’d used to cook. As you cleaned, you caught his eyes on your body a few times, but he kept his physical distance for the most part. After you separated to get yourselves ready for your day in the sun.

You spent longer than necessary trying to decide on the right bikini. You didn’t know if you should go demure princess or buxom goddess. You were moving and making decisions by reading him. You told yourself the night before that you’d go at his pace and take your cues from him. If he initiated touching, you’d reciprocate. If he kissed you, you’d kiss him back. If he stayed away, you would too. You didn’t want to do the wrong thing or anything, especially since you didn’t know where you stood with him. Letting your self-doubt win, you chose the middle ground on the bikini.

Thirty minutes later, you stepped outside the villa to find Henry waiting patiently at a white Fiat convertible.

“Wow. Is this yours?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised. We have established that you’re a car man.”

He smiled as his eyes trailed over you. “Wow. The short shorts come out, huh.”

You looked over yourself, then back to him. “This is short? Ha, just you wait. I have even shorter.”

“I bet you do,” Henry chided as he held open the passenger door for you.

“It’s about a ten-minute drive to the beach, maybe eight if the cliffside isn’t flooded.”

“Wow, you’re right there, huh.”

He smiled and nodded as you slipped into the car.

“All right, let’s go. I have a goal to be kissed plentifully by this French sun, so in two weeks' time, I’m showing every bit of the melanin my ancestors blessed me with,” you joked.

Henry shut your door and walked around to the driver’s side. Once in, he pressed the start button.

“Bring it on. I happened to really like yours…it’s sexy,” he slipped in, meeting your eyes for a few moments.

“Did you just call me sexy, Mr. Cavill?”

His smile was wide before he slipped on his sunglasses. “Did I? Maybe, maybe not,” he said before he pulled off, beginning the journey.

As he drove, you relished the breeze and sun on your skin and waved your hands in the air, fully enjoying the carefree vibes you felt. Before long, you’d pulled out your phone and began snapping a multitude of pictures of the scenery, the people, and occasionally even Henry, though he probably had no idea. You didn’t want to miss the chance to see how perfect he looked behind the wheel.

When you got close to the beach, Henry parked along the cliff as plenty other cars had done. According to him, no one made a fuss about small things like that; as long as people could still pass it was all right. The laidback style was already agreeing with you. With him carrying all the bags like the gentleman he was, you allowed him to lead you across the road toward the sands of the beach and then down the shore to find the perfect spot. It took a few minutes, but when you found it, you staked your claim, stomping in the sand, marking it as yours. Henry took the initiative, spreading the oversized beach blanket using the items you’d brought with you as anchors for the corners.

Once he’d gotten it perfect, you wasted no time pulling off your tank then peeling off the shorts your wore. You tried to keep your eyes away from him, though you really wanted to know if you had his undivided attention. The middle ground bikini you’d chosen was still a look. The cut complimented your curves, while the color complimented your complexion. You wanted to take it at his pace, but you also had to show him you were still hot.

When you lied back on the blanket, you gawked at the ocean before you and marveled at its sparkle while the sun reflected off of it. Looking beside you to him, you found his eyes on you and his jaw slightly ajar.

“This is so beautiful.”

Henry snapped his head away from you and looked at the view you were just staring at. “Very,” he replied, his voice constrained as if his throat were closing. He held your bag out to you, but he didn’t look at you again.

“Thank you.”

You dug through it looking for your sunscreen spray. Once you’d found it, you began spraying along your arms and shoulders, rubbing the mist in working your way to your chest.

“Why France?”

“Huh? Excuse me?”

“France. Why France for buying a house?”

“Well, I have some French blood-ties; the Channel Islands has its history of it, and France is smack in the middle of there and London. I fell in love with it,” he explained.

“Why Bandol?”

“Oh, that’s easy. It’s still luxurious enough like St. Tropez but not as high profile. I can be Henry here and not worry someone is taking my picture.”

You nodded and understood perfectly. It was hard being on all the time. You’d gotten so used to it that you often forgot how to be off.

“I get it. It’s the same reason why I’ll always choose Australia and Ireland overall,” you explained.

“I’ve only seen Ireland a few times. I think I need to go back,” Henry added.

You smiled as fond memories washed over you of your time in Ireland. “You definitely should.”

You sprayed your shoulder closest to him and began rubbing in the liquid.

“Ehm, need some help?”

Your eyes met, and you fought back your smirk. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah, I can help. It’s no problem,” Henry assured.

You handed him the bottle, then turned your back to him and waited. He didn’t touch you for several moments.

“How many tattoos do you have?”

“Um—not sure, seven, eight maybe,” you said while anxiously waiting for him to begin.

“That’s quite a bit.”

“Not too much. They’re all strategically placed,” you explained.

When you felt the sprays on your back, you held your breath and waited for him to touch you. As Soon As he did, you bit your bottom lip, trying to ignore the feeling of completeness that washed over you. You liked the feel of his hands on your skin.

“Have you—ehm, have you ever thought about tattoos?”

“I have,” Henry began, his voice deeper than it had been moments before. his hands trailed lower to the small of your back, and you hunched over even more, giving him more access. “I’ve just never gotten around to it,” he finished.

Turning your head to rest your cheek on the tops of your knees, you smiled. “Too much work?”

A soft chuckle escaped him, and you felt his thump trail up your spine until he reached the back of your neck. Two sprays hit your skin, and he began rubbing into your shoulders. A weak moan slipped out, but he didn’t pull away. The kneading of his hands became more forceful then. You were quickly losing your nerve and grip on reality. Another moan slipped from your throat, and that was when Henry’s hands stilled and rested at your shoulder blades. You felt his fingertips trace the softest pattern onto your skin before they were gone.

“All done.”

By then, your heart was racing, and the butterflies in your gut were fluttering below your waist. Clearing your throat, you turned back to the ocean.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Henry said before he stood and discarded his shirt.

The action didn’t help you at all. Your jaw hit the floor as you took in every inch of him you’d spent all night since seeing the sprigs of hair peeking out his shirt. Plenty of dark hair decorated his chest and trailed down his abs until it disappeared behind his pants. A soft gasp drifted out of you, but your eyes refused to stop ogling. So you sat there looking at him and counting each of his eight ab muscles. The man had an eight pack; you thought to yourself as your throat painfully tightened.

“What’s wrong?”

Jerking your head up to his face, you shook your head, trying to find words.

“Wrong? Huh, nothing—um—you uh—you’re—you’re--.”

Henry smiled as he cocked his brow, waiting for you to say something intelligible. You had nothing, though.

“Cat got your tongue?” The humor in his voice was so obvious, and you felt like an idiot.

“And my brain cells, it would seem.”

His smile made you smile while trying to avert your eyes from the rock hard statue that he was.

“Sorry.”

Henry scoffed. “It’s okay,” he said.

“No, it’s not. You’re a person, not a piece of meat,” you clarified, feeling awful. You were doing the same thing to him that you hated men doing to you.

“Wait, you think I’m a piece of meat?”

Looking back at him, you spoke, “No, but I’m sure women look at you like you’re a piece of meat and in turn treat you like it.”

He nodded, “They have in the past.”

Your eyes again drifted downward, but you caught yourself before they got to his massive pecs. Clearing your throat, you stood.

“Do you burn easily?”

“I’m a white British man, of course, I do,” Henry joked, making you snort loudly.

“Wow, do you want some?”

He held his hands up as if to shield himself from you. “Are you looking for an excuse to feel me up?”

“What!?”

Henry snorted and laughed loudly.

“You’re kidding,” you surmised.

“Yes. You should have seen your face.”

You shook your head while burying your face in your hands. “Wow. That’s not cool.”

“You were an easy target,” Henry said, turning his back to you. “Oil me up, baby.”

You had every intention to, but the side of him from the back stopped you in your tracks for a few moments. As you slowly approached him, you accessed the entire meal that was him before you, unsure where to start. You sprayed over his back then slowly began rubbing across his skin. You couldn’t believe that even his back was as toned as an Olympian. Your brain was slowly short-circuiting with every inch of skin you touched. When you brought your hands down his spine to his tailbone, Henry groaned, and you fought the urge to go lower.

“All—done,” you said slightly above a whisper.

“Not quite,” Henry said, turning to face you. “My chest burns easily too.”

Face to face with temptation; you knew you were destined to give in. it was only a matter of time.

“I thought you could--.”

“—Nope. You started the job, so you should finish it.”

Smiling, you bit your bottom lip. “Does that go for my chest too?”

Henry’s eyes dropped to your breasts and rested there for a few seconds before he looked back into your eyes with a completely cheeky expression on his face. “Well—that is entirely up to you, Ms. Taylor.”

Like a child, you giggled most uncharacteristically. Slapping your hand across your mouth, Henry laughed at you. “Oh god.”

You sprayed across his chest and abs but hesitated touching him. Instead, you stood there gawking at the way his chest glistened. It’s not that you didn’t want to feel. You really, really wanted to feel. You just didn’t think you would be able to not come across as a thirsty fiend. Henry waited patiently waited no doubt taking notice of how you were beginning to hyperventilate. After a minute, he took a step back.

“Here, I’ll finish the job—this time.”

You dropped to the blanket and laid back, trying to recover. You couldn’t believe this was life right now. You’d never been attracted to anyone like this. You never struggled like this with anyone, and that reality was a little alarming. Peeking up, you watched as Henry finished rubbing the sunscreen into his chest, spreading it along his swollen shoulders and bulging arms. Your mouth ran dry while another part of you was anything but.

While proving to be a heightened temptation, a day at the beach was just what the vacation doctors ordered. The roaring sun, the breeze with the salt in the air, and the screams and laughs of people enjoying themselves were wonderful. You didn’t think about work not once, or anything beyond the man beside you reading a book and the book you were reading while the soft sounds of jazz drifted between you. It was perfect.

Every so often, your eyes drifted to Henry and took in different parts of him. Everything you saw you liked, and the fact that you liked it, only helped your brain daydream even more. There were a few times he caught you staring at him just as you caught him staring at you or parts of your body. When you did catch him, it only emboldened you to play up different parts of your body. You were relieved to know he at least still found you attractive.

When he goaded you into the water, the two of you played in the waves. The first time Henry splashed you and got water in your hair, you made gasped and pretended to make a big deal about it, which prompted him to apologize profusely. You considered it payback until you tackled him in the water, holding him underneath until he lifted you in his arms like he was Goliath. Your eyes locked, and there was a moment you thought he would kiss you, but instead, he tossed you into the water. That one action began a water war that he easily won thanks to his colossal size and overpowering strength. You didn’t mind.

By the time you’d sat to enjoy the picnic lunch Henry had packed, only a handful of people had recognized the two of you and asked for autographs and pictures. It really was the perfect first day of vacation, and you already didn’t want it to end. After lunch, you and Henry were walking along the shore, enjoying the lull of water crashing onto your ankles like you had no cares in the world.

~~~~~~~~

-Henry-

You were gorgeous, more gorgeous than you’d ever been. You were drop dead with make-up on, but without you were a knockout. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and he knew you had to know. There was no way that you didn’t. He didn’t start the day with any expectations because he really didn’t know what to expect, but it had turned out to be a great day. He looked across to you and took in your curled and coiled hair that framed your face and gave you an even more youthful glow.

“So your hair is naturally curly?”

You smiled and nodded as you turned to look at him.

“Curly, coiled, kinky, it’s a bunch of stuff.”

“So you straighten it.”

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

He was confused. “Why?”

With your brows knitted together, you took him in. “What do you mean why?”

“Why? I can imagine it takes a lot of time. So, why do you do it?”

You scoffed but didn’t speak right away. He allowed you the time to think.

“Well—in the business, it’s easier. As horrible as it is, there are not many people who will cast the black actress with unruly hair or will have the right people who can do it properly. It’s a huge thing for black actresses, and unfortunately, can be the reason why many don’t get a role. So for me—I guess I got used to directors or photographers preferring the sleek look, so I just—maintain it. No one really cares for this,” you said, motioning to your hair.

He understood what you were saying. Hollywood was fickle; he was living through it right now but couldn’t believe people's ignorance.

“I like your hair right now. I like how free and beautiful it is. You don’t look—bound. You look free.”

Your eyes met his, but he couldn’t read the look in them.

“Oh uh—thank—you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a smile. “You should just leave it alone from now on.”

You snorted. “Oh, is this how you want to see me?”

He could hear the tease in your tone, “Free and beautiful? Absolutely.”

Again the look in your eyes stumped him. Before he could ask you what you were thinking, you looked away and back out to the water.

“What if I want to see you like this from now on?”

He chuckled, “What, shirtless with bad hair?”

You laughed with him for a few seconds. “Well, nothing wrong with this view at all,” you said, making him blush.

“Oh, and for the record, your hair is anything but bad. When it’s all slicked to perfection, you look put together, but—I like the more…distressed you. You look free and boundless.”

The smile on his lips hadn’t slipped since you’d begun your walk, and staring at you, he didn’t think it would slip. You looked away and cleared your throat, something you’d been doing a lot the entire day.

“I’ll make a deal with you. You keep this look going, and I’ll keep this look going,” you proposed piquing his interest.

“Do we have a deal?”

“All right, we have a deal,” he sealed, holding out his hand for you to shake. When you did, you smiled mischievously.

“Good,” you said before you pushed him into the water and the incoming wave.

Shock flooded him though he should have known from the glint in your eye he’d picked up.

“Did you really?”

With pride and joy, you nodded, “I sure did.”

As he stood, he wiped his face of the water and chuckled to himself.

“As a gentleman, I will give you a four-second head start,” he announced.

“Four seconds?”

“Three now.”

You squealed and ran down the beach, trying to put as much distance between you as possible. It was futile. He was fast. Once he’d counted down, he took off after you. When you looked back to see him coming, you screamed louder and tried to pick up the speed, but as he said, he was fast. In a few short seconds, he caught you and immediately began tickling you, making you scream even louder.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you shouted through bouts of laughter and screams.

“No, no, too late for that.”

With you in his arms, he brought you to the water facing you out so you could see the massive wave coming in. You screamed again while kicking your legs, trying to get him to drop you, but it was no use. Seeing there was no way out, you stopped screaming, but when he tossed you into the wave, you screamed until the water engulfed you. He stepped back and waited for you to wash up on the shore. When you did, he proceeded to tickle you some more until you tripped him and rolled onto him to retaliate.

Though he hadn’t let on that he was ticklish, you figured it out and exploited it mercilessly. The tickling led to both of you playfully throwing wet sand at each other while waves knocked you down. When he grabbed you, he smeared the wet sand across your chest below your collar, making you scream. That was when you coated his chest down to his waist. He pulled you to him rubbing his chest over yours to make sure you were as lathered as he was.

“Oh my god!”

A wave crashed over the two of you, nearly drowning you—nearly. When the water receded, you were still there in his arms, practically underneath him. he took in your beauty, and all he wanted to do was kiss you. he almost did before he stopped remembering what had led you to this point. He was tired of proving and showing you he wanted you—wanted to be with you. It was your turn to prove to him that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. That was when another wave washed over you, dampening the mood. He was thankful for it.

Once he was standing, he pulled you upright.

“Ready to go?”

You nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

After leaving the beach, the two of you walked along the shops that decorated the surrounding area. He pointed out all the places he’d visited over the last few days. He knew some of the shop owners by their names, and it was something you liked for some reason. After the first few shops, you decided to pick up something for dinner and spent the next few minutes trying to decide just what to get.

“Any special requests?”

Henry’s surprise only lasted a few minutes before the smile you were getting so used to appeared.

“You’re cooking?”

“Yep.”

His surprise turned to awe as he circled you once. “You can pick whatever you want,” he whispered in your ear before he walked to a stack of cans.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, assuring you that you were good to make the decision.

“Do you eat a lot?”

“Do you?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” you said in an exaggerated tone that had Henry laughing.

As you walked around the store, you placed various items in the basket that Henry carried. Some peppers, scallions, garlic, onions, mushrooms, and plenty of herbs followed before you walked across the way to a seafood shop. You thought about something simple like salmon but changed your mind when you saw lobsters and said what the hell. You were only going to get two, but Henry piped up and tricked you into four, citing your insatiable appetite. Deep down, you wondered what appetite exactly he was referring to, for food or him. A trip to the local spirits shop had you stocked for more than just one night.

When you made it back to the villa, Henry was the one to carry the bags to the kitchen, not letting you lift anything but the beach bag you’d left with at the start of your day. You met him in the kitchen in time to see him hoist everything onto the island.

“All right, you’re all set there.”

“Thank you, Superman.”

He smiled and helped you unpack the items in the bags, laying them out on the counters and the island. Once that was finished, you made a move to the door.

“I’m going to take a shower. I can feel sand everywhere.”

What was to be a relatively quick shower quickly turned long because you needed to wash your hair and treat it, so you didn’t have any residual salt damage. No one liked breaking hair. That alone usually took almost an hour. Instead of going for the full experience, you cut a few corners in the routine but still managed to complete it. After throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank, you made your way back to the kitchen, ready to cook one of the best meals he’d ever have.

With soft music playing and a towel wrapped around your hair while your leave-in heat treatment did what it was made to, you began prepping the ingredients. The soft music and time alone gave you more time to process the perfect day you’d just had. There was nothing about it that you’d change, even down to the intense tension that was constantly between you. If another day played out the same way, you still would think it was perfect.

“All right, I’m clean now. Would you like some help?”

Henry stood behind you in a tank and sweats with his hair full of curls.

“Sure, you can actually prove to me that you know what you’re doing in here,” you teased as he approached your side.

“I’m about to knock your knickers off.”

You snorted and peeped at him. “Promise.”

The flustered look on his face said he just realized the land mind he’s just stepped into. Pushing it to the side, you focused on the chives you were chopping.

“What would you like me to do?”

Looking around the kitchen, you assessed everything that needed to be done then delegated.

“Those veggies need to be rough diced and washed.”

“Consider it done,” Henry replied, stepping away to begin prep. Before he began, though, he walked to one of the bottles of wine you’d just gotten, popped it, and poured two glasses.

“A little vino for you.”

Smiling, you took the glass. “Thank you.”

The two of you worked together chopping, dicing, and slicing the vegetables and herbs and the seafood for dinner. Every few minutes, your eyes met, and you giggled. Once the cooking began, Henry teased you about your towel wrapped hair, saying that was how magazine covers should show you. You watched his form and how he handled his knives and liked how he moved. He handled knives like he’d been doing it his whole life.

When you saw him perfectly Julianne cut the cucumbers you practically drooled and were ready to push him against that island. You loved a man who could handle himself in the kitchen. Pumping iron and weights and a nice body was great, but cooking dinner for someone because you care, was a supreme turn on.

When the lobster was steaming and the potatoes boiling, you leaned beside him and watched him kneed the dough he was prepping for what he called his famous sugar rolls.

“So mentioned you have nieces or nephews? I don’t remember which,” you began.

“Yes. Three nephews, no nieces.”

“Cool. What’re their names?”

Henry smiled as he spoke, “James and Peter and Lucas.”

“Strong names.”

“Yeah, Nik and Charlie picked them,” he said.

“Nik—he’s the older brother, right?”

“Oldest. I’m surprised you remember.”

“No girl?”

“Ha, Charlie really wants a girl. He has a son Lucas but dreams about having a daughter.”

“Nice. I have two nephews, Niko and Milo, and a niece Aloa, my oldest sister Miesha,” you added.

The way Henry smiled, you could tell he liked kids. “That’s nice. Do you see them a lot?”

“I try. It’s hard, though, with my schedule.”

He nodded, then shifted to the sink to rinse off the cucumbers before beginning with the carrots.

“I understand.”

With your curiosity piqued, you decided to dive right in. “So you like kids.”

“Love kids,” he replied. “You?”

“Uh—yeah. They’re precious.”

“I’m guessing you’re close to your brothers.”

“Oh god, yes, really, really close. We talk several times a day. They’re my first call when something good or bad happens, and it’s the same for them.”

“That’s good. I’m close to mine too. We don’t talk every day, but I try. I do have a twin, so we don’t need to talk. We just know what’s going on with each other,” you explained.

“How is that having a twin?”

You shrugged and put a piece of cucumber into your mouth. “It’s everyday like for me. I don’t know what to say,” you said with a small chuckle.

“Are all the clichés true?”

You scoffed and went back to keeping yourself busy. “What clichés exactly?”

“Oh, you know that you feel each other’s pain and feel what the other feels, oh that you know what they’re thinking.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “It’s not like I fall down the stairs, and he feels me fall. That’s just impossible.”

Henry nodded and moved to rinse the carrots.

“Yeah, it’s more like a constant presence I feel. You—you never really feel alone, sort of like this constant connection or feeling like someone always has your back. We can feel what the other feels a lot of the time, but it’s sort of like a gut feeling more than an actual physical feeling. There are times he’ll feel when I’m sad and crying, and it’s incredibly annoying.”

“I can imagine,” Henry started.

Feeling his eyes on you, you turned to face him and waited for him to speak.

“Does he feel everything—your moments of happiness or—pleasure?”

Snorting, you laughed loudly, unable to keep it in.

“Happiness, I think there could be valid proof to that. As for pleasure, no idea. It’s never been brought up but kinda creepy to think about that.”

You both busted out laughing, realizing just how creepy it would be if there were any validity to that. Cooking together turned out to be really fun. Usually, you hated people in your space, but with Henry, you didn’t mind it at all. You didn’t mind the subtle way his body brushed yours whenever he passed you. You didn’t mind the sly looks across the kitchen when he took a sip of his wine. You didn’t mind the flirtation in the air, and when he watched you make your lemon cake for dessert, you didn’t mind that he was learning one of your secret recipes. It was something you felt you could get used to.

Two hours later, you were bringing out one of the platters to the dining table in the yard just in time to catch Henry putting a clay vase filled with beautiful lavender and rapeseed flowers. The purple and yellow combo was so bright it looked like it belonged with the décor around you.

“Wow, would you look at that,” you began eyeing the perfectly set table. “You can set a table too.”

His smile was wide. “I sure can.”

“With the proper place settings. I’m impressed.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and slowly licked his lips as he shrugged. “I didn’t go to finishing school or anything but--,” Henry trailed off, making you laugh at the sly reference to you.

“Oh, okay, Mr. Cavill.”

You backed away with your hands raised, making your way back to the kitchen with him following close behind. You pointed to him the items to go, and he walked with you back outside.

“I know you think I eat a lot, but--.”

“Oh, stop it. I am sure you have to have a high-calorie intake to maintain your Superman shape, so—ta-da,” you said, giving him jazz hands in front of the food-filled table.

“Oh, so you’re looking out for me, huh.”

“Of course. What else is your girlfriend supposed to do?”

Henry’s smile slowly slipped before it reappeared but only for a second. “Girlfriend, huh?”

Just like that, your stomach fell through the floor, fully realizing what you’d said. Now you felt like an idiot especially seeing his reaction.

“Um—well--.”

Not waiting for you to respond, Henry walked to your chair and pulled it out for you.

“Uh—give me a second,” you said, bending forward to pull the towel off of your head.

It had been well past the forty-five minutes you usually kept it on for, and you didn’t want to eat with this heavy thing on your head. Using your fingers, you combed through your curls then stood up to face him. This was practically the first time you stood before a man that wasn’t part of your family with your hair natural. You hated that you felt self-conscience about it. The look on his face was a lot different this time. His eyes were wide, and his mouth ajar.

“Sorry. Thanks,” you said, slipping into the chair.

Once he’d pushed you in, he sat across from you.

“So I know you love your beer and steak,” you began with a smile. “So the steak is cooked in Guinness—a lot of Guinness.”

Henry chuckled and assessed the steak on his plate while nodding.

“Bon appetite.”

Once henry put a slice of the steak in his mouth, he moaned and gave you the chef’s kiss. You knew exactly what it meant, the good ol seal of approval.

“This is really good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

After putting another slice of steak into his mouth, he nodded. “I love it. you’re a great cook.”

“Thank you. I tried to tell you.”

Henry chuckled, giving you a slight roll of his eyes before he continued eating. He was right dinner was good. While you ate, you enjoyed the setting sun and conversation about music, good food, and good wine. One bottle of wine quickly finished, then you were cracking open another and another. When dinner was finished, you sat there listening to the stories of his childhood where his mother played referee between five boys. The way he talked about her made her sound like a saint. It was clear to see how much he admired and loved her. That made you like him even more.

By the time you climbed into bed for the night, your mind was racing a mile a minute, and all your thoughts were of Henry and the probability that he just might be the perfect man. That thought scared you even more than there being something wrong with him. If he were perfect, then it meant he was perfect for you, and perfect for you meant commitment, complications, and vulnerability while opening the stage for possible heartbreak. Even through the fear, one constant remained—you wanted him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x black ofc #slow burn fanfic #black fanfiction

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blindrapture · 3 years

Text

a union-mandated break post

(okay, let’s see if I can type this all over again after losing the post. gotta remember how it all went.)

Hey there, the few mutuals who Like all of my posts, the lurkers who occasionally make their presence known, the lurkers who I also hope are there, and all you folks who come across this post naturally before scrolling on (that’s fine too, please have a nice day! remember to take a deep breath and unclench!). I wanted to make a post giving a casual update.

Things have been going. You know how it is. Time proceeds onwards at a pace that is a crawl to some and fleeting to others, depending on relative perspective. The average of all these observations may be Objective Truth, a hazy mythical and abstract prospect which to this day no living human has ever known (due to the nature of perspective). We still try to know it for some reason, an endeavour which may be “a good thing” or “a condemnation of our species,” but that’s relative too. See above. Still, it is possible to take an approximation of what we figure this average to be and find ourselves (mis)balanced on a knife-edge in between all perspectives. This narrow path, the knife-edge between fast and slow, between good and bad, between ecstasy and despair, seems precarious at times, yet at other times is like a garden, wide and spacious enough to sit awhile. Our perspectives cover this garden from us with the shrubbery of Can’ts and Shouldn’ts, and the way to the garden is fraught with the misty cloud of Look-Like. And yet, ultimately, these shrubs and mists are but prismatic scenery colouring our time on this Earth, a perspective which is easy to see from within the garden. The Earth is brown and grey and immortal, though wearing an impermanent coat of blue and green. One day, we will slip out of our perspectives and return to the Earth, join her mounding’s mass, and that will be death.

So that’s the weather. Sometimes cold, sometimes mild, sometimes wet, sometimes dry, sometimes bothersome and sometimes the only backdrop I could ever want. I’ve been up to the usual, cycling between interests like a bat between haunts.

- The other day I got around to playing Smile For Me, an experience which took me about three hours to more-or-less complete 100%. Really cute game, I fell in love with all the characters, and the budding horror elements made me excited to see where it’d go.

- Currently I’m playing A Monster’s Expedition Through Puzzling Exhibitions, a game often cited in the same breath as Baba Is You and Stephen’s Sausage Roll. I think those two games are puzzle masterpieces, and A Monster’s Expedition is hitting me in the right spot. It frequently fills me with awe, which is impressive considering the game is just a long series of oblong block-pushing puzzles. It has scope, though, and it has the guts to hide that scope from you until you’re able to discover it for yourself. I’ve played for about 10 hours so far, beaten over 200 islands, and yet I feel I’m only getting further away from the end goal. Hard to describe. It’s a good game.

- When I’m done with that game, next I’ll be checking out Spelunky 2. I’ve wanted to try the original for a long time but never got around to it; I picked up the sequel. I know very little about the games (with a rough idea of what gameplay is like), and I intend to keep it that way for as long as I can. I like games that rely on discovery.

- Book-wise, I’m, y’know, reading Finnegans Wake as I fall asleep, occasionally inching through other books too, but my main reading focus at the moment is The Familiar. I went and picked up a new copy of Volume 5, and I found the Volume 3 I had kinda lost for a while, so now I have the full Season 1 again. And it’s been long enough since I read any of them that it’s finally time to reread them. As a unit this time. I am... so happy to be in their headspace. I’m currently in the second act of Volume 1, taking in a lot more details this time (and I do still remember a sense of where the whole plot goes), really cherishing the commitment to physicality and aesthetic. There’s not many authors out there like Danielewski. House of Leaves kickstarted my book obsession, y’know. And The Familiar is about as grand as a project can be. It’s supposed to be 27 volumes, each one 900 pages long, and the design of these books is goddamn sublime. The publisher only let him do the first 5 volumes, which is sad, but luckily those 5 volumes make up a “Season,” so they’re still a whole thing, a complete story arc for each of the nine protagonists, and plenty of secrets and details that give a good sense of the true scope. And did I mention the series is fucking scary? Profoundly so, each new volume weaving you deeper into its conspiratorial web of eldritch coincidences and patterns. The story is full of cats, immortal cats, God-cats. There’s a scientist who keeps a freaky magic orb and is known as Wizard. There’s an Armenian taxi driver who’s one of my favourite characters. And you can probably get all the volumes Used for fairly cheap on Amazon now. ........please, somebody join me in loving this series.

- Creative-wise, I’m working on music as always, putting notes next to each other until I get a result I can do something with. There is one piece that’s definitely done, a collaboration between Lindsay and I, but it’s going into Nine Is God so you won’t hear it just yet. Speaking of, that’s coming along. I haven’t even started making any codes or cool connections yet; I want to finish the... Core of this update first. Let’s be deceptive and call it the Main Blog. I have proven to myself that I definitely can do this; I keep stumbling on new mechanisms I can add, and I have a pretty vivid idea of what the whole thing will look like. It’s gonna be maybe a decent size for a Blog, all told, but it’s the form of the thing that mandates a lot of care. Luckily I have made Viceking’s Graab, so this isn’t the first time I’ve done something this mechanically ambitious. ...look, just. Of course I’m excited to Actually Talk about this thing, but like with the Graab, its nature requires me to keep it secret until players finally discover it for themselves. I like making that kind of thing, I want the sense of discovery, of climbing up a hill only to reach the summit and see an even bigger mountain looming over you that you hadn’t realized was there. Like Frog Fractions, or its sequel, even if you know there will be more than meets the eye you still get surprised and filled with delight. This concept fits neatly into an ARG format.

- Oh, also, I’m super excited for the Braid remake. It’s gonna have a comically thorough amount of developer commentary, and that’s all I want from this world. It’s even coming to Switch!

Media can be used as a tool to assist with the experience of life, and that is the way I want to approach things. I have spent time adapting myself to feel comfortable in these boring aesthetics (of understated puzzle games, thoughtful pretty books, blogs as art) because this means I am less susceptible to getting burned out during contemplation and self-examination. It may seem like a matter of taste, but taste is relative too; it’s not hard-wired, it can be adjusted, it does adjust all the time under the hood. ...I don’t know where to go with this one, other than that I should be careful not to condescend. I am not above anyone, I am confused too. I just.. like confusion and mazes, and I try to speak these aesthetics in an approximation of how I see others talk about theirs.

Right. I think that’s the bulk of it, that’s what I wanted to say today. I hope you are holding on, reader. It’s a wild and lonely world out there, and it’s our world; it’s yours just as much as it’s anyone else’s. You are important to it.

I leave you, mysteriously, with an old Genesis song. It’s called “Can-Utility and the Coastliners,” which is a silly way of saying it’s a song about the myth of King Canute. Sick of flatterers claiming he was equal to God, he went to the sea shore and said “If I truly am equal to God, then let the waves halt at my feet!” They didn’t. An astute demonstration, but it just prompted his flatterers to praise his ingenuity. “But he forced a smile, even though his hopes lay dashed where offerings fell.” I’m not really sure how the story ends. But it’s a wonderful song, starts off very folks-y but quickly takes a left turn down Mystery and Beauty. And it’s freaking Genesis.

See ya.

#rambles #at least they're not tag rambles this time #can't believe i managed to remember that whole ramble about relativity and objectivity and the garden in the middle #though amusingly i guess i really just remembered........ *an approximation* of it. :3

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astraeal · 3 years

Text

Commission for @thedashasaproblem! Hope you enjoy; read it on AO3 here.

Farmer Marie, original character, belongs to @thedashasaproblem. Stardew Valley, and all characters and settings therein, belongs to concernedape.

“Okay! We have quite a few things we need to get done today. Marnie called – you know how I asked her to let us know if she had any more available chicks? Yes? – and said there were some new ones we could pick up, which is perfect and just in time because Robin wrapped up the coop yesterday! And that means we need fresh hay in the coop, and if we need to restock the silo then we’ll mow too. Bessie needs to be milked and we’ll check if Sweetpea has any this morning or if she’s still nursing – ugh, little Delilah is going to be so stunning when she grows up, I can feel it. Oh, and good morning babe!”

Elliott blinks from where he’d stumbled into the kitchen, his hair thrown into a messy bun and loose auburn strands hanging around his face. He is in no way prepared for Marie’s chipper enthusiasm, but that’s what made him love her, after all. And, this entire situation is something he brought upon himself.

Head full of fantastical pastoral fantasies, he’d asked Marie to keep him appraised of what it takes to run Shady Land Farm. He was good with books, which was helpful – while Marie was running about the Valley in search of delicious fruits and rare stones, Elliott appointed himself the financier of Marie’s assets.

It had been difficult; he’d consolidated sticky notes scattered about the house with haphazard reminders about supplies owed to Robin, and items to sell to Pierre at the general store vs. what should be distributed to townsfolk directly, and birthday reminders, and favorite gifts, and occasional notes written in a script he couldn’t parse but appearing on a fantastical dark blue page that made his writer’s intuition spark. (That, and his fingers burned a little whenever he held such a note, as if it knew that he was not the intended recipient, but he never let Marie know that.)

After his book tour had completed, he had taken the better part of their first fall together to consolidate these notes and square the books. It had been helpful when Marie decided to go forward with the basement upgrade, and suddenly Shady Land’s wines and cheeses were worth quite a lot more. They’d only recently begun talking about incorporating more animals into the farm, hence the phone call to Marnie. With the addition of more animals, and Marie’s additional time spent working on repairing the old Community Center, Elliott wanted to assist more. It was only fair, after all; he still got most of his writing done at night, and there was no reason he couldn’t spend more of his mornings helping around the farm.

Marie had been ecstatic, of course, and he’d glowed with the anticipated appreciation for his efforts. So far, it hadn’t been that difficult. Sprinklers handled most of the watering, and with Marie’s clear eye for design, he wasn’t getting lost in the fields as he had feared he would.

But he still wasn’t a morning person, and his brain isn’t entirely on all the way, especially when his wife has inundated him with information and her beautiful visage so early in the morning.

Marie looks up at him, wide blue eyes and a warm smile on her face, blonde hair tucked away in two braids that usually resided beneath her sunhat. The hat now rests on the worn kitchen table, two steaming mugs of coffee and cozy breakfast platters set on the table. Still processing his wife’s words, Elliott makes his way to the second breakfast platter and pours some milk into his coffee, knowing he’ll need it to make it through the day.

“Good morning, my dear,” he murmurs as he finishes those first three blessed gulps of caffeinated beverage. “Would you like me to fetch the chicks? Or shall I stay on the homestead and you venture to the forest?”

Marie takes a bite of her eggs, done up with some goat cheese – “I bought it from Pierre but when we get some we’ll make our own, and it’ll be probably fresher than this stuff!” – potatoes, and sausage in her own little scramble. Elliott’s breakfast is far more tame, scrambled eggs and farm fresh cheese, with toast on the side.

“If you want to take Miss Daisy to Marnie’s, that would be great! She could use an excursion, and she loves the woods.” Marie sets her hand – soft, thanks to the gloves she uses, but still strong and capable – over Elliott’s wrist. “If you don’t mind, that is. I know coming back with newborn chicks might be a little…difficult.”

He warms at her touch. “I’m sure Marnie has a basket or some such thing I could use, don’t fret darling. She’d never let anything happen to the animals in her care.”

Marie smiles at him, and pecks his cheek. “Alright, babe, I’ll head down to the barn –”

“Oh, I can do that!” He blushes a little after his outburst, but still gives his wife a smile. “Let me handle the animals today, my dear. The first fruits of spring will be in the orchard, and you’ve got a better sense for flora than I.”

They both remember the catastrophic effort in Elliott’s old cottage when he watered his rose with sea water and was confused as to why it was dying. That had been one of the many points Elliott began to consider Marie as more than a friend.

She gives him a look clearly conveying that she’s thinking of the same moment he is. “Well, alright. Apricots and cherries, what a combination. Oh! And the wine! I’ll be right back!” She darts away, down the basement stairs, presumably to see if any wine has finished maturing yet. Some things she pulls out early, just for a little extra cash – Gus is always appreciative of a finer quality of any type of ingredient, especially alcohol.

Elliott knows it will take her a little while to check each barrel, so he quickly finishes his breakfast and coffee, and then stands, ready to take on the day.

First, to get himself prepared.

Then, to tend to Miss Daisy.

♢♢♢

Marie loses some time in the basement, checking each and every barrel, weighing the pros and cons of switching out some of the wine barrels for cheese barrels. With Bessie and Sweetpea both producing such quality milk, Shady Land has a near excess of cheese and she knows Gus would pay a fair amount to have some for his pizzas and salads.

Then again, better quality cheese keeps her going in the mines and other excursions, so there might be some incentive to keep some around? She’d probably ask Elliott for his thoughts, but by the time she surfaces from the basement and sees the clock perched over the coffee maker in the kitchen, she realizes it’s already 2:49pm.

She’d left her husband alone for hours. Elliott isn’t incompetent, but there’s still etiquette for handling new animals, especially babies, and all of Grandpa’s farming books are written in family shorthand, something she’d been meaning to teach Elliott but just kept forgetting.

Alarmed, Marie runs out to the front porch, expecting some sort of catastrophe. Bessie to be loose – not that she’d do much but perhaps wander up towards the house and eat a few tulips or something – or maybe Aspen to have fallen into the lake (again) but instead all’s quiet. She can hear the soft bells hanging from Bessie, Sweetpea, and little Delilah, but she can’t see them through the orchard.

She doesn’t run, lest she startle anyone, but she heads towards the tree line as quickly as she can. As she approaches, she can hear her husband’s voice. She quiets her steps as she enters the dappled shade of the orchard, the apple and orange trees still dormant for the season, yet producing beautiful flowers regardless. A sweet spring wind guides some fallen petals towards her, beautifully framing the tender scene she sees before her.

Elliott sits on a stump, Miss Daisy, Bessie, and Sweetpea, grazing peacefully beside him. He and little Delilah, however, are looking down, enraptured with three small fuzzy brown and golden chirping fluffy chicks in the grass. The chicks are barely visible from her current distance, but as Elliott straightens up his long hair goes back into place, revealing a fourth little chick curled up in his hand, which he gives little pets to every once in a while.

“You’re not too different from the crab that once lived in my pocket,” the story crafter begins, murmuring to the little chick in his hand. The chick chirps in response, and Elliott chuckles. “I haven’t told you that story yet? Well, I absolutely should.”

Marie takes another small step forward, not wanting to encroach on the moment nor startle any of the beings involved. The more she watches the scene, the more she sees things she hadn’t before. Like how all the adult females stood firmly on the edge of the lake, prohibiting the chicks, Elliott, or Aspen from wandering too close to it. And a small – hopefully empty – milk pail sits next to the stump, as if her husband had finished a chore and then simply couldn’t be away from the chicks for much longer.

What gives her away is another small fluff ball in the grass, this one bigger than the chicks, a brilliant white that rockets out of the higher grass and directly into Marie’s arms.

“Aspen! Who’s a good boy?” she coos, on reflex. Miss Daisy looks nonplussed, as if she knew Marie was there the entire time, while Delilah startles a little and runs back to the safety of Sweetpea.

Elliott also startles, which startles the chicks, who all climb and jump up his pant legs and into his lap, chirping loudly until they can take cover in the safety of Elliott’s lap. “Darling! I didn’t hear you arrive!” He looks caught red handed, though with what, Marie’s not sure.

She walks over, Aspen tucked to her chest, and sees with no small amount of relief that the milk pail isn’t full of milk, but rather water. Now, she can also see a small basket, no doubt from Marnie, in which the chicks probably arrived.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disrupt…you just looked so cute, babe! Everyone treating you nicely?” Marie leans forward, letting Aspen back down to the ground, and gives an affectionate rub to Miss Daisy, who wandered over searching for some treats.

Elliott blushes, visible even with the mid-spring flush he seems to always have on him. “Yes, quite. Everyone has been remarkably kind to me. Miss Daisy had to guide us home herself! I was, ah, a little preoccupied with the newest young ones.”

The wind picks up a little, carrying more flower petals through the air. Elliott’s long auburn waves glint caramel in the sun, unfurling to the side, revealing the turquoise earring usually kept tucked away. Marie had mined that turquoise herself; the earring had been a wedding gift from Clint, repurposing a stone Marie had sold him a few weeks prior to their proposal. (She had briefly wondered if maybe Clint and Elliott had been in on it together, as the timing was so perfect, but maybe she was simply overthinking things.)

Elliott looks completely at home, sitting cross-legged on the stump, worn down by spring rains. With the chicks in his lap and the errant flower petals in his hair, the man looks ever more like a regal prince from all the books and movies Marie had seen growing up.

“They’ve taken a liking to you,” she observes, reaching a finger in to give gentle pets to the soft downy chicks. They accept them, curious and cautious in their new home, but feeling brave under Elliott’s protection. “Have you thought of any names?”

Her husband looks up, green eyes wide. “Names? Oh, darling, I thought that was all you.”

“Nonsense! You picked them up, you should at least be able to name them. These ladies will need fine names, if they’re to live here on Shady Land. And you’re a writer, names are what you do!”

The chicks chirp in agreement, looking up at Elliott.

“Well…I was thinking this one could be Carmelina,” he murmurs, touching the lightest brown one. “Caramel, for the color, but the full name also means “vineyard of Yoba” so I find that fitting for the main exports of Shady Land, don’t you?”

Marie blinks. “You…knew the meaning of the name on the spot?”

“Of course! Clara was almost named Carmelina in Camellia Station, but I thought that would be too close to the title of the book, so I changed it. Still kept the C though.” He gets that wistful look on his face, a little lost in thought, as he usually does when trying to come up with next big ideas for his writing career.

The farmer giggles, giving more pets to Miss Daisy, who finally nosed out the cookies in Marie’s pockets. She gives one to her steadfast companion, looking at her husband with a newfound appreciation.

She takes a seat on the stump beside Elliott, looking up at him as they discussed further names for the chicks. The sun dripped down through the orchard’s branches, spreading dappled shadows up the short grassy expanse. Eventually, the cows and Miss Daisy wander back to their respective barns and stables, and the chicks doze off in Elliott’s lap. Marie delicately takes a couple – the newly named Carmelina and Dahlia – and heads off to the newly constructed coop to set them inside.

The chicks barely move when they’re set down in their new hay lined beds, clearly Elliott’s handiwork while Marie was tending to the house. The two of them hold hands, walking through the fields of Shady Land.

“You know, we could wash up and head to town. Get a late lunch at the Saloon, then maybe walk down by the beach?” Marie suggests, watching her husband for his response. She likes to spend as much time with him as possible before she loses him to his nightly writing routine, and there’s something a little tender about meandering down by the places they had fallen in love.

Elliott beams, nearly glowing with happiness. “That sounds delightful, dear. I’ll be sure to put on my best shirt.”

It’s not necessary to dress up for a 4pm lunch at the Stardrop Saloon, but Elliott likes to go the extra mile, and Marie can appreciate the little efforts to glamorize being a farmer’s husband. She kisses his dirt smeared cheek, standing side by side on the porch, and marvels at how far she’s taken the farm since her grandfather had worked the land.

Maybe someday she’d tell her husband about the vision she’d received a couple weeks ago, with her grandfather and the ultimate judging of her efforts so far, and the new, strange, blue flame candles on her grandfather’s shrine in the northwest corner of the farm. Someday. But not today.

“I wonder if Gus will have crab cakes,” she teases, stepping into their home, to the sounds of fire crackling in the fireplace and her husband enthusiastically waxing poetic about his favorite dish in the entire Valley.

Truly, it’s home.

#commissions #stardew valley commission #stardew valley #sdv #thedashasaproblem #i think after typing it so many times i NOW can read your url correctly #but i think it will always partially be 'the dashas problem'#hope you enjoy!! 💖💖💖

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this-solaris-life · 4 years

Text

Dinner with the Fishes

Writer’s Notes: Here’s my dabble at writing for this adorable ot3. I might write a second part, but here’s the road so far.

///

Lan Xichen can’t help but smile from behind the top of his sketchbook. Enjoying watching his neighbor turned friend to mutual crush with his boyfriend, Nie Mingjue, tidying up the coffee table. Jiang Cheng is a work of art and he’s glad he’s already sitting down on his couch, because he’d been swaying a bit if he wasn’t.

Jiang Cheng sat on the floor with his back to him. His long black hair pulled back in a messy braid showing off his neck. The tip of a snake’s tail peeping out from the collar of his soft plum henley and jeans that hugged his runners legs. An adorable child’s hand swipe of dried yellow paint from his cheek to his sharp jawline.

“What would you like for me to lay out for dinner before Mingjue-ge gets back, Xichen-ge?” Jiang Cheng asked, gathering up the brightly finger painted drawings that he, Lan Xichen, and Jin Ling were working on before Jin Ling wanted to watch Zootopia. Then the little one fell asleep in Jiang Cheng’s lap. Jiang Cheng checked his watch, seeing that his nephew was due to wake up at any moment from his nap in the guest bedroom.

“How about some steaks? I’m sure that A-Jue would be more than happy to grill them for us for dinner.” Lan Xichen cheerfully smiled at him when Jiang Cheng looked over his shoulder. A small frown on the younger man’s lips.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. We can make something at our apartment. Besides you've already had your hands full with us all day.” Jiang Cheng countered turning around to look at him.

“Hardly,” Lan Xichen chuckled, his gaze traveling down to his cast covered leg propped up on a plush pillow,“Besides, I remember distinctly being right here for ninety-nine percent of the day.”

Jiang Cheng huffed while rolling his eyes,”Oh, please, you wouldn’t even have that broken leg if it wasn’t for us.” His gaze shifted to Lan Xichen’s leg.

“Now, Jiang Cheng we’ve talked about this.” Lan Xichen said softly, because ,yes, they have talked about it. His broken leg was his own fault. Also during those talks that’s how they came to the arrangement of Jiang Cheng coming over to help out while Nie Mingjue is at work. The two counting themselves lucky with being able to get to know Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling better.

As the other stood up to take the paintings over to Jin Ling’s backpack, he looked down at his sketches of Jin Ling with bumblebee antennas and wings in different stages of movement. A thin smile on his lips as he thinks about how his leg got broken. It’d been about a week ago that’d passed Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling’s apartment, and that’s when he made the mistake of not watching where he was going, and tripped over the toy that Jin Ling had dropped.

“So, I’ll go lay out the steaks then. Do you want anymore tea while I am in the kitchen?” Jiang Cheng asked, starting towards the kitchen. His sapphire eyes landed on the empty tea cup on the coffee table as he went.

“For all of us and yes, please.” Lan Xichen answered, smiling as the other grabbed his cup. He heard the other man mumble something he couldn’t understand but chose not to inquire. If today was the day that they got Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling Yo stay for dinner he’d consider it a success.

Jiang Cheng returned to the living room with a fresh cup of tea and seeing Lan Xichen trying to get his hair that had fallen in his face out of the way. By the second huff, Jiang Cheng couldn’t hold back the laughter that’d been bubbling up this throat.

“Here let me help.” Jiang Cheng chuckled setting the cup on the coaster. Lan Xichen stilled as he felt lithe fingers move into his hair. “I’ll braid it back for you like I did A-Ling, while we were painting. Honestly, I should have done it then for you too because you got some of the paint in your hair.”

“Thank you.” Lan Xichen replied feeling heat rising in his cheeks as Jiang Cheng braided his hair. To keep from focusing on the hands in his hair, Lan Xichen started working again on his sketches. Soon he had another page filled this time with bumblebee Jin Ling playing with a puppy.

“Oh, I see that someone got some inspiration today?” Jiang Cheng teasingly commented, looking over Lan Xichen’s shoulder to see what the other was working on while he worked Lan Xichen’s silky black hair in his hands.

“Yes, he’s just too cute.” Lan Xichen stated, “and lovely. It’s nice to draw these types of movements.”

“I’d be careful letting A-Ling see these especially with that puppy on there. You’ll never see them again.” Jiang Cheng stated in playful warning.

“Good, then I know that he’ll enjoy the gift I’m making him.” Lan Xichen stated cheerifully. A pleasant thrill in his veins at knowing that Jiang Cheng thinks that Jin Ling will like them.

“Speaking of A-Ling.” Jiang Cheng chuckled as the sound of a child’s whine coming from the spare room the moment he finished braiding the others hair using one of his own violet hair ties on his wrist that he uses for Jin Ling and his own hair.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right here.” Lan Xichen replies smiling fondly up at him. He noticed a quick flicker of something in Jiang Cheng’s gaze before it was gone and Jiang Cheng nodded before heading to their nephew. As he watched Jiang Cheng head towards the bedrooms, Lan Xichen reached up to gently feel the braid. A warmth blossoming in his chest. He wondered what Nie Mingjue would think of his hair like this. Would he be sorry he’d recently cut his hair so short? Chuckling, Lan Xichen went back to his sketches.

It takes a little while for Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling to come out of the spare room. Lan Xichen looks up seeing that the little one in Jiang Cheng’s arms is red faced and puffy eyed. Jiang Cheng had a worried frown on his lips. The smile on Lan Xichen’s face thinned. “Is he okay?”

“Just a nightmare.” Jiang Cheng replied as his phone started to ring. Both of them recognize the ringtone as being the one for Jiang Cheng’s liaison at the company.

“Here let me take him and you answer that.” Lan Xichen said, setting aside his book, putting the pencil behind his ear, before reaching out for the toddler.

“I…” Jiang Cheng started but stopped when Jin Ling sniffled making grabby hands to Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen inwardly preened and accepted the boy in his arms. Jin Ling’s little arms wrapping around his neck as he laid his head on Lan Xichen’s shoulder. A smile on his lips as he rubbed soothing circles on his back. Jiang Cheng stood there for a moment watching them. That look from earlier returning till he met Lan Xichen’s honeyed gaze, then he quickly went for his phone. He answered the phone while walking out onto the balcony to take the call.

“It will be okay, little one.” Lan Xichen said, using the one he’d used with Lan Wangji as a child. Jin Ling’s response was muffled by his shoulder making him chuckle. His gaze briefly wandered to the balcony seeing Jiang Cheng lean on the railing, gesturing as he talked.

“You’re one of Jiujiu’s fishies too!” Jin Ling said cheerfully, rubbing his eyes and nose, before leaning back in his lap pulling two fishtail braids over his shoulders to show them off. They looked adorable with his hair being Blackish-brown ombreing to golden blond.

“I am.” He chuckled,blushing at the thought and silent scolding himself at the same time, while Jin Ling started talking about going to the aquarium with his shushu and A-She. Somehow the conversation led to them talking about what kinds of fish and animals they’d be.

“You’d be’s a sea pancake, Mr. Lan!”

“Oh why not a koi like you?” Lan Xichen laughed. Gently tickling the boy making him squeal in laughter until he falls back on his chest to try to stop him but failing.

“Be’s-cause you smiles like them!” Jin Ling cackles making Lan Xichen laugh. Before he can say anything back Jin Ling’s head snaps towards the front door at the sound of the alarm chiming that the door has opened.

“Mr. Nie!” Jin Ling cries out happily, squirming to get out of Lan Xichen’s lap to run over to Nie Mingjue as he’s coming inside. Immediately, Nie Mingjue drops down to a knee as Jin Ling launches himself at him.

“Hey, little man.” Nie Mingjue chuckles as Jin Ling hugs him tight. He hugs back, lifting him up easily as he stands. Closing the door with his foot then kicking off his boots.

“Did you’s miss us?” Jin Ling asked loosening his grip so that Nie Mingjue can move him to his hip to walk to the living room.

“Yes, I did.” Nie Mingjue answered happily. He was about to ask if he’d been missed when he spotted Jiang Cheng on the balcony talking on the phone and Lan Xichen on the couch. His eyes stopping on the intricate braiding of his boyfriend’s hair. He didn’t need to ask who’d done it. Jiang Cheng’s beautiful work was something he’d seen countless times and currently in Jin Ling’s waist length locks.

“I’d welcome you home but I see, Jin Ling has beat me too it.” Lan Xichen teased, giving him a wink while smiling brightly, knowing what had caught Nie Mingjue’s attention.

“I’m sorry that the call took so lon...oh welcome home, Mingjue-ge.” Jiang Cheng greeted him as he stepped back inside. A thin smile on his face as he stepped up to get Jin Ling, “I’ll take him.”

“No, need.” Nie Mingjue waved him off earning a toothy grin from Jin Ling, “What are you hungry for little man?”

“Pancakes!!! Blueberry ones-is, Mr. Nie with jiujiu’s octapuddy piggy’s, and ‘ruit zalad.” Jin Lin answered.

“That sounds delicious.” Nie Mingjue cooed,”Why don’t you go play while me and Jiujiu make dinner?

“O’tay!” Jin Ling happily yelped as Nie Mingjue put him down scampering off to the guest room.

“What are octapuddy piggy’s?” Nie Mingjue asked, tone teasingly with a look in his eye that made Jiang Cheng blush and his heart skip a beat.

“Mini sausages.” Jiang Cheng answers, fidgeting for a moment under both Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue stares.

“Alright, well text me what goes in your fruit salad, Jiang Cheng.” Nie Mingjue chuckled relenting, as he steps over to the couch and gives Lan Xichen a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Jiang Cheng asks, wide eyed blinking in confusion as Nie Mingjue started back towards the doorway.

“I don’t think we have any of that do we, sweetheart?” Nie Mingjue asked over his shoulder, already working to get his shoes back on.

“We have the blueberries in the freezer, my love.” Lan Xichen answered, a smile that Jiang Cheng didn’t have time to question before Nie Mingjue was moving again.

“Oh, he can just eat what we are having.” Jiang Cheng swallowed, his heart starting to race at the thought of them both wanting to take care of Jin Ling.

“Nonsense, Jiang Cheng, he’s a child. Children are supposed to be spoiled.” Nie Mingjue replies grabbing his keys. “I’ll be back. The QuickMarket down the street is still open and will have what we need.”

Before Jiang Cheng could object the man was gone. He knew he looked like a gaping fish as he turned to look at Lan Xichen but he was just speechless. He could feel the heat rising on his cheeks again.

“Xichen-ge -“

“What should we have with our steaks?” Lan Xichen asked, not letting the other continue. Nie Mingjue and him have been trying to get Jiang Cheng to stay for dinner with Jin Ling and now that they have the opportunity tonight they weren’t going to let the moment go.

----

References: Fishtail Braid: Jin Ling's | Lan Xichen's Jin Ling's Hair color: Click Here, I got inspired by this beautiful artwork by Ennun⁷ Nie Mingjue's New Hair Cut: Click here

#ot3 #mingxicheng #fluff #pre-ot3 #loosely based on the 2007 movie shelter #nie mingjue #lan xichen #jiang cheng #jin ling #jin ling is about three here #as a child my father would let dye the ends of my hair but not the scalp #so yes #and like hair dye has evolved #i channeled my niece here #soooo #yeah #sorry if the toddler talk isn't what you expect #not beta read so all the errors are mine #Your Love Is My Shelter AU

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Happy Hungry Babysitters

Category: General Fluff

Fandom: Yona of the Dawn

Characters: Yona, Hak, Shin-ah, Yoon, Jae-Ha, Zeno, Kija

Requested By: Scarlet (Ao3)

A content smile decorated Yona’s face as she reclined underneath the shade of a towering oak tree. Its emerald-green leaves blanketed the expanse above her head to shield her from the worst of the sun’s hot rays, allowing only thin beams to spear down and blot across her cloak and pink gown in little gold circles. The space underneath the forest’s thick canopy was as cool as a springtime night. Snuggled within the tree’s twisted, gnarled roots, Yona rested safe and content.

Not too far off, her companions were gathered around a small campfire smoking some trout from the nearby river. The pungent aroma of smoke, grilling meat, and the faintest hint of salt made her nose wriggle; from the tang of the salt and smoky fish flesh on her tongue, their lunch was nearly ready. With a high-pitched whine, she slowly eased her stiff body into a sitting position and stretched her arms above her head. Her muscles uncoiled and her joints popped, spreading the satisfying sensation of wakefulness through her body and bones. Just as she was standing to walk over to the small encampment, the musky forest air rang with the snap of a twig.

Everyone was instantly on high alert. Sooner than she had even registered that he had moved, Hak was at her side with his arm slung across her chest in a protective gesture. The air was now filled with crunching leaves, shaking leaves, and snapping sticks from the underbrush directly in front of Yona. Her dragons crept forward to crouch in a shielding semi-circle around her. Yona plucked her bow from where it rested against the tree trunk and notched a single arrow; she did not yet draw the string and prepare to fire, for she had no idea whether the stranger approaching was friend or foe. The sounds of their advance were raucous and uncaring. If they were an enemy, either they were completely clueless to how much noise they were making, or they were so confident in their abilities that they righteously didn’t care. The group collectively held their breath as the bush directly in front of them rattled wildly, and then-

A toddler waddled out from within the spiny leaves. He stopped, gawking at the group of young adults with wide sea-green eyes and sticking his dirty fist in his mouth to lick at his chubby knuckles. All of their mouths hung open in utter shock as they gaped back at the little boy, still holding up their weapons threateningly. Yona was the first to move.

“Why, hello there, little one!” she smiled kindly and threw her bow and arrow down to the ground. She ducked underneath Hak’s arm to hurry over to the little child, and he craned his head back to stare up at her. He was the cutest thing, with wavy straw-colored hair curling just above his shoulders and ruddy, round cheeks. Yona crouched down in front of him, and he followed her motion, keeping eye contact with her all the while. “What are you doing so far in the forest by yourself? Where’s your mother?”

“It’s a baby,” Jae-ha gulped.

“Yeah, we noticed,” Hak grunted back and leaned his weapon against the tree before joining Yona at the toddler’s side. The quiet boy tore his gaze away from the princess to stare at Hak, still sucking on his fist. “He can’t be older than a year and a half.” Yona agreed with the assessment; his steps were unsure and fumbling, and he didn’t seem to know many words. She would be surprised if he were even one year in age. The toddler looked back to Yona again and shuffled forward to touch her cheek, and then cooed happily. His round, sausage-like fingers petted her dawn-colored hair with evident admiration.

“Red!” he asserted confidently.

“That’s right! It’s red,” she agreed, easing herself down on her knees. The baby immediately clambered up into her lap, sitting contentedly on her plush thighs and gurgling contentedly while playing with the soft silk of her dress. “This little one is lucky to have stumbled upon us. Who knows what might have attacked him out here,” she tutted with a frown. She began to stroke his soft, fine hair, and he clapped his hands gleefully, bouncing a little in her lap. “It is imperative that we find his mother…”

“He can’t have traveled too far… After all, he is but a small child,” Kija grimaced as he approached. The baby took notice of the white dragon’s coming and ogled him with those wide green eyes, then pointed at his head.

“White!”

“He certainly is a smart fellow,” Shin-ah sniffed while peeking over the blushing Kija’s shoulder. He sounded amused, but it was hard to tell with the mask and the blank expression of his mouth. The baby gawked at his colorful mask, then squealed with delight as Ao appeared on his shoulder. Babbling, he groped for the chipmunk insistently. The rodent seemed to understand his request and scuttled down Kija’s arm to rest on his hand, chittering like it was having a conversation with the young child. He clapped his hands again before reaching out to pat Ao gently on the head. Ao nuzzled into his palm, making him scream in utter glee, before returning to Shin-ah’s shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to look at the baby?” Yoon asked Jae-Ha, who was standing several feet away and looking very uncomfortable.

“I don’t like babies.”

“What? But he’s so cute, Jae-Ha!” Yona protested, and as proof, lifted the baby for him to see. The toddler stared brightly up at the green-haired man, rolling his tongue around the whole fist shoved into his mouth. Jae-Ha scowled as drool puddled onto the luscious grass blades below.

“Keep that gross thing away from me!” Yona pouted and lowered the baby back into her arms, bouncing him against her shoulder. The toddler once more became transfixed with her strands of dawn-red hair and shoved a thick swathe of it in his mouth to suck on it. She didn’t much notice, too busy trying to riddle out how he wandered out into the woods alone.

“His mother must be worried sick,” she sighed. The baby spat out her hair, now maroon as it was dripping wet with spit, and it stuck thickly to her neck. The boys looked on with expressions ranging from concern to awe to disgust as she ignored it. “We should walk in the direction he came from to see if we can happen upon someone, or a village, even. Someone should know where this little guy came from!”

“I agree,” Yoon nodded. “We certainly can’t continue on our journey with a random baby.”

“We’re already criminals. Why not add kidnapping to the list?” Jae-ha joked, earning a sharp jab to the ribs as Hak walked by him. The tall man leaned against the tree, wheezing as his intercostal muscles burned. “It was a joke, Thunder Beast… A joke…”

So, with the mystery baby in tow, the Happy Hungry Bunch set out in search of a mother.

Yona and Hak were in front, with the princess carrying the toddler. He remained completely calm, ogling the wonders of the forest over her shoulder. She much liked lugging him about; he had that pleasant milky baby smell, and his happy coos and gurgles were music to her ears. She loved the way his fat little fingers played with her hair. She talked kindly to him, pointing out random things that he eyed. Every time she spoke, he clapped his hands excitedly and reached out to touch whatever she was talking about, if it was indeed touchable. The curious baby very nearly grabbed a fistful of poison oak, and she had to yank him away at the last moment and occupy him with a butterfly flitting by to keep him from getting upset.

“I never knew you were so good with babies,” Hak remarked after about thirty minutes of tromping through the woods. Yona blinked at him, then gave the baby a small smile. It seemed he had tired himself out with all the investigating and was lying with his head propped on her shoulder, sucking his thumb. He was trying desperately to stay awake, but his eyes continuously drooped and fluttered with encroaching sleep.

“Tired,” he mumbled.

She stroked his soft blond hair a few times before looking back to Hak.

“I didn’t know, either,” she snickered.

“It seems our Yona has good maternal instincts,” Jae-Ha quipped from a few paces behind them. Yona flushed at the very suggestive grin splitting his thin face. “She’ll make someone a good wif-”

Yona never really was sure if it was divine intervention in the form of a protruding tree root or Kija’s foot. Still, whatever he tripped over, it made Jae-Ha immediately faceplant into the detritus. The group howled with laughter as he slowly leaned up, spitting decaying leaf litter out of his mouth. All the commotion made the baby sit up, his head bobbling and eyes blinking blearily as he tried to determine what all the hubbub was about. He looked down at Jae-Ha, still sprawled in the grass and dirt practically seething, and began to laugh good-naturedly. Jae-Ha sniffed derisively at the toddler before sitting up and brushing leaves and twigs from his clothes. “Little smartass,” he grumbled under his breath.

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” Hak said suddenly. He was staring thoughtfully at the toddler. Yona looked between the tall warrior and the chubby baby, unsure just what he was so transfixed with. “That baby looks a lot like Soo-Won.” Yona’s wide eyes beheld the sleepy toddler for a few seconds before the resemblance finally struck her like a bolt from the blue.

“Oh my goodness! He does!” His eyes were the same shade of green as Soo-Won’s, and the color of his hair was an exact match as well; it even possessed the same amount of bounce and wave. Pursing her lips, Yona held out the baby at a small distance to stare intently at it. The toddler continued to suck its thumb obliviously with his sock-clad feet kicking a little in the air. For the first time, she noticed that the child was actually dressed in lavish clothes; all the dirt and grime he had accumulated tromping through the underbrush had masked it, but he was wearing a rich red robe-like garment with gold accents and very clean bloomers. He was most certainly a child of a noble. “It couldn’t be time-travel, could it?! Is this Soo-Won from the past?” she whispered in quiet awe.

“If we kill him, will everything that’s happened up until now be reversed?” Jae-Ha frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Yona inhaled in pure revulsion and smothered the baby protectively into her chest, tossing an affronted glare his way. He quickly threw up his hands in surrender. “It was a joke! Man, tough crowd today…”

“No, it wasn’t,” Shin-ah piped up from beside him. Jae-Ha gave him a cranky side-eye.

“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let any of these mean boys hurt you,” Yona cooed as she nuzzled the crown of his head with her cheek. The toddler warbled pleasantly in response.

“Guys, this is not King Soo-Won from the past,” Yoon snorted with a cantankerous roll of his eyes. “Seriously, the baby had more maturity than you do. He just happens to look like him.”

“Can you prove it?” Zeno grinned from his perch on a rotting tree stump. Yoon glowered at him, but kept his mouth shut because he knew he couldn’t definitively prove it, and Zeno stuck out his tongue at the young boy with a devilish and self-satisfied snicker.

“Of course it isn’t Soo-Won,” Hak huffed and took the baby from Yona’s arms to hold it out and give it a disapproving once-over. “I was just saying they looked alike. That’s all.” The toddler blinked brightly at Hak, sucking on his fist again. He then squealed and reached out to slap his spit-covered hand against Hak’s cheek. The knight grimaced in utter disgust as the thick, goopy liquid slowly dripped down his face, while the baby howled with shrieking laughter.

“He likes you!” Yona grinned. Hak wasted no time in handing the baby back to her.

“Yeah. Sure,” Hak grunted and wiped the spit off his face with his sleeve. Yona began bouncing the baby in her arms again, and his big head plopped down on her shoulder. He yawned loudly before sticking his thumb back in his mouth and sucking on it contentedly, then snuggled up into Yona’s neck. She hummed a senseless tune under her breath while slowly swaying from side to side and bouncing his round body gently. “We need to find his mother. I can’t believe we’ve been walking thirty minutes and haven’t come upon anyone.”

“There’s no telling how much his path twisted and turned,” Kija frowned. “We could have walked in the entirely wrong direction.”

“That’s encouraging, Kija,” Jae-Ha lamented wearily.

Just as the group was beginning to debate turning in another direction, Hak hurriedly shushed them and glanced off into the forest. A voice was floating on the dank forest air- a woman’s voice. It rapidly grew closer and louder in pitch, and the panic was clear in her voice. Yona grinned brightly at Hak.

“It must be his mother! Come on!” She ignored his orders to wait and took off into the forest in the direction of the woman’s cries. Before she could reach her, however, she stumbled into some brambles. The tiny barbs dug into the hem of her dress like prickling teeth, shredding the fine fabric but refusing to release it at Yona’s insistent tugging. “Oh, my, what a mess-! Ma’am?! Ma’am, are you looking for a baby?” she called out into the wilderness, deciding that it was useless to struggle against the thorns and electing to instead attract the woman to her. The cries stopped short with Yona’s yelling, soon replaced by very frantic crashing in the underbrush. A nearby hawthorn rattled so violently that several of its red berries rattled to the ground before a breathless, red-faced, wild-eyed young woman burst through.

“Oh, my baby! There you are!” she wailed with relief. She surged towards Yona, tripping over her own feet from running too fast, and landed on her hands and knees right in front of the bramble thicket. The woman groped at Yona’s dress in an effort to reach her son, sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe, and Yona encouragingly shushed her while holding out the baby to her. She hugged him tightly to her bosom, stroking his hair and cradling him while choking out words of gratitude: “Oh- hic- thank you so much, I- hic- I turned around, and he was just gone! Hic- ungh- I’ve been searching everywhere for him! I thought- hic- I thought he had been snatched up by something awful, and I- I- I- oh, my darling baby, I’m so glad you’re all right!”

By this time, the boys had caught up to Yona. Hak cursed under his breath and knelt to begin carefully disentangling the ruined hem of her dress from the clinging brambles. Yona smiled brightly at the woman when she looked up with wide, teary eyes. “I must repay you somehow. Money? I have money, or food, or anything-!”

“It’s all right, ma’am. We don’t-” Before she could finish, Jae-Ha clapped his hand over her mouth and leaned over her shoulder with a charming smile laced with just the smallest hint of roguish mischief.

“Some warm food and a place to sleep would be marvelous, madam.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The Happy Hungry Bunch, ironically, had only been another two or three minutes from the baby’s home, which turned out to be a prominent city. The woman’s husband was the local steward of the settlement, explaining the baby’s apparent status. He was similarly beside himself at the toddler’s disappearance. As his wife and Yona came strolling up, swinging the happy baby between them, he actually fell down the steps of his lofty home trying to reach him. Yona looked on happily as the family reunited. Many tears were shed at the toddler’s return, by the parents and the servants alike. It was clear that he was very cherished and loved. I hope he grows up in a warm and untroubled home, she prayed.

The group was repaid with a warm welcome, warm food, and warm showers. The mother had stumbled into the guest bedroom just as she was dressing and, of course, recognized her dawn-red hair immediately. She was very gracious about Yona’s wishes not to be outed and provided her with a silk headwrap to cover her conspicuous locks. The silk dress was smooth on Yona’s freshly-washed skin, and the fragrance of milk and honey soap clung to her petite frame mingling with the pleasant rose perfume the lady of the house had loaned her. They enjoyed a rowdy dinner, regaling the nobles with modified tales of their exploits, and retired deep into the night with full bellies and happy smiles. The steward’s wife let Yona rock the baby to sleep and place him in his cradle. Just as the princess was slipping down the hall to scurry to her bedroom, she encountered her bodyguard. He was sitting beside her bedroom door, hunched over. He had most likely fallen asleep awaiting her return.

“Hak,” she called softly as she knelt beside him and shook his shoulder. He did not jerk or gasp, but instead cracked an eye open to look at her. He had not been asleep after all- only resting his eyes. “Thank you for waiting up for me,” she smiled graciously. His lips curled into a thin smile, and he reclined back against the wall, stretching out one of his long legs with no care if someone might trip over it.

“Always, Princess.”

“That baby was adorable,” she mused cheerfully. Though it was late in the evening, her interactions with the toddler had left her invigorated and humming with energy. Hak smirked airily with a nod of agreement.

“Yeah. Kinda scary how much he looked like Soo-Won, though.”

“Indeed,” she giggled. The little bubble of happiness inspired by the comment soon burst inside her, however, replaced by numbing sadness. Soo-Won’s name could only bring her sorrow and regret now. Hak noticed her change in mood immediately and scooted closer to her, reaching up to grab her head and nestle it into his shoulder softly. She did not retreat from the intimate action but rather welcomed it. Her hand curled into the thick fabric of his sleeve, and she exhaled miserably. “What am I going to do, Hak?”

“Just keep going,” he answered. “Just keep pushing forward and try to make the world a better place for kids like him.” A smile blossomed on her face. It was a lovely sentiment and a very Hak thing to say.

“Yes…” She could get up and crawl into the been that had been offered her, but to her sleep-addled mind, leaning against Hak was infinitely more comfortable. As she reclined against him, his body heat lulling her into a sense of security, her eyes began to droop. I’ll make the world a much better place, so that families like this can live carefree and happy…

You’ll see, Soo-Won… You’ll see.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#yona of the dawn #yona of the red dawn #yotd #akatsuki no yona #akayona #yona #princess yona #happy hungry bunch #yotd fanfic #yotd fanfiction #akayona fanfic #akayona fanfiction

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ginnyzero · 3 years

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Completely Harmless Ch. 45

Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.

When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?

A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577

Chapter Forty-Five She sells sea shells by the ... river shore?

Lily tried to regain control of the meeting. “Pauline, where do we stand on the decorations?”

“Okay, here is the ideas I’ve had with everyone talking. Okay, we take flower wreathes and put them on the lamps and then wrap them with more flowers like the ones in the wreathes and our artificial palm leaves, and the sea shell garlands and sea shell lights. Then, if you have an arm to hang things off of, put a paper lantern with more flowers if you want. Um, don’t choose any flowers that are protected ladies. Then we can use the bubble garlands and the jelly fish lights like we did with the clouds and rainbow hearts from the trees. You can mix them up with the regular paper lanterns too if you want. Put the flower lights, sea shell garlands, and paper lanterns in all the stables. You can make the paper lanterns look like bubbles if you do it right.”

“Like with the clouds.”

“Exactly!”

“Then we can use the beach scene lanterns the exact same way we used the heart lanterns. But you can add the decorated anchors or ship wheels in with them. Or use the shell buckets instead. We put up the boats with the selfie walls, boats have nets decorated with shells, the round white circles have flowers and greenery like they’re a big wreathe. Put up some of the round lanterns, throw in an anchor and a wheel for props if they want. Um,” Pauline scrolled through the pictures. “We can create cabanas for the bar and the dance floor using frames, sheets, the flower lights, the artificial palm leaves, and inside have the jelly fish lanterns and more bubble garlands. The bar can have a net on it and be strewn with the decorated shea shells and the shea shell lights.” Pauline stopped at the giggles.

“Sea shells,” Lily said dryly.

“Sea shells,” Pauline repeated. “We can have more bucket, anchor, wheel decorations on that. And the pineapples, because Lily wants the pineapples. We can put more of the artificial palm leaves there too. Above the bar can go the jelly fish lights and the bubble garlands.” She paused. “And these lace sailboats are cute. We can have them as a prop too at the selfie wall. I mean, I think we’re actually set for decorations. I mean, I know it sounds more than what we had for Rainbow Week, but we’re mixing them in more interesting ways?”

“There are more bigger pieces.”

“And no balloons.”

“Right, I mean, we could use the lantern lights instead of balloons to fill up space or use the jelly fish lights and white lanterns to make little scenes.” Pauline shrugged. “We’ll have to experiment.”

“Food,” Lily moved on.

“Jorvik Crawfish Boil,” Pauline checked her notes. “Crabwiches, fruit salad in a carved watermelon bucket, Vegetable and mushroom skewers, popsicles, watermelon on a stick?”

“One sounds too many.”

Pauline crossed out the watermelons on a stick. It seemed redundant.

“I saw mermaid tail favors. We could put candy in them?”

“We should have cookies, like citrus ones.”

“That means they’d be orange.”

“Orange cookies.”

“I also saw plastic seashell favors, we could put something in those too.”

“I think we better put out some things like pretzels and Cheetos for people like Alex,” Lily said.

“Okay, now we need some drinks because I think we’ve covered food pretty well. And I mean, we can all buy snacks to put in the buckets. That’s not difficult.”

“Pretzels, popcorn, Cheetos, and crisps.”

“Wait, can we really have a bonfire without s’mores, sausages, and potatoes?”

“Yeah, and bread for the sausages or to eat with the crawfish.”

“Cheese, we might need cheese.”

Lily rubbed her forehead. “Fine. But we’ll have to figure out how to split it out. Drinks.”

“I make some really chillax awesome drinks.” Tim spoke up. The first time he’d spoken up in a while. Maybe he was overwhelmed with the eager teenage girls. Or maybe he didn’t care that much about the food or the decorations.

Lily turned her head. “Yeah, I think we might want to test your drinks first.”

“Shibby!”

“Why don’t you tell us the ingredients?” One of the girls asked sweetly.

Tim rattled off his ingredients. They included kidney beans. Kelp. Corn water. Fermented potato juice.

Lily held up a hand. “Fermented potato juice is vodka and corn water is basically moonshine. Are you trying kill us and get us drunk?”

“You don’t think people will like them.”

“I think maybe we should stick to things like banana and strawberry smoothies. Orange juice. And grape and seltzer punch.”

“Apple juice. Watermelon and blueberry spritzers.”

Tim slumped in his seat.

“Those will bring the tourists back for more.” Lily patted his arm.

He sighed. “They sound boring to me.”

“We can try to make them exciting. Package them in fun ways! Mermaid, err, okay without lemons this is not as easy as you’d think.”

“Grape comes in clear.”

“Ohhh, that works. Look we did this at home, just color up some different ice cubes, put edible rainbow glitter around the edge of the glass. Put it in some grape juice with soda if you want, and let the ice cubes melt. Mermaid Cocktail. Or as it was described early grape and seltzer punch.”

“Mock up a white grape sangria too, strawberries, blueberries, apple or orange slices in white grape juice, apple juice, and soda.”

“They can be fun, we promise,” Lily patted his arm again.

Tim sighed. “All right, I’ll have to trust you.”

“Put the orange and soda in hurricane glasses, drizzle strawberry juice into it, garnish in a fun way, sunset hurricane drink.”

“See,” Lily smiled at him.

Tim didn’t look convinced.

“Watermelon and grape go with a lot of things. And we can get you the cucumbers too.”

“Okay, I think we’re good to go.”

“We’ll come up with a recipe list.”

“All right, then we’re doing the different wreathes at the different parties,” Lily said. “Let them have the sand souvenirs. We can do necklace garlands and bracelets to I guess for the luau theme.”

“And hide decorated Conch Shells, because they’re big, and colorful,” Pauline said. “Like, I think these are plastic or vinyl. I hope they are. Real conch shells might be too expensive.”

“Okay,” Lily nodded. “Hedgehogs, you’re the source of the crawfish for the crawfish boil. I’m leaving that to you.”

Riley groaned.

“I know you’d rather have the mermaid favors. Kelsey that sounds like something Madison would enjoy doing.”

“She would. So, we’ll take it.”

“You’re going to have to make a lot of them so, yeah.” Lily wrinkled her nose. She didn’t feel bad about giving that to them and only that. “Bulldogz, I know how you feel about Jamie cooking.”

“Someone is trying to hire her for the Midsummer Feast and thank goodness she’s easily distracted.”

“So, you can have the shell party favors.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Josefina spoke up. “We’re the source of the strawberries and the blueberries. Do you want us on drinks or on the fruit salad?”

“We’re going to have to buy watermelons in bulk from the food stalls.”

“Okay, question,” Lily put her chin on her hand. “Who among is a competent melon or pumpkin carver? Because they should be the ones doing the fruit salad. I mean, I don’t think the carved bucket idea was a plain bucket?”

The girls got on their phones and started texting people in their clubs.

Loretta shook her head. “None of mine.”

“Loretta, since you have the Midsummer Festival grounds in your area, are you going to do a beach party too?” Lily asked, genuinely curious.

Tan leapt in. “Of course we are, and we’ll decorate those Dark Core containers and chase off the goons if we have to.”

Loretta made a face. “They’ve been stealing. Can you believe it?”

“You don’t say.” Lily’s voice was bland. “Do you have any records of it?” Lily asked. She wasn’t at all surprised that a company with a name like Dark Core hired a thief.

Tan tossed her head. “I recorded everything.”

“Could you send it to Linda?” Lily asked slowly and raised her brow.

“Linda? Why would she want to know? I mean, she’s one of those weird druid riders,” Tan flicked her wrist.

“Because the Baroness will want to know,” Lily said. Frustrated she had to spell it out. “And Linda is her personal assistant and monitors her emails.”

“Oh, in that case, sure,” Tan said and dug out her phone. “As long as the Bobcats get the credit for catching them.”

“I’m sure Linda will tell her.”

Loretta sniffed. “I had them all file reports with Thomas.”

Lily nodded and texted that information to Linda as well.

Linda texted back she was going to ride over to Moorland to get it. She needed to see Alex anyways and she was probably at Maya’s.

“Or with Justin,” Lily murmured. Had Justin gotten up the nerve to say anything to Alex yet? Lily shook her head.

“I’ve got a carver,” Amelia said. “She sent pictures of her work. She can carve buckets and flowers.”

“Then you’re on for the fruit salad,” Lily said. “Do you mind another club coming and picking fruit for the cocktails and the popsicles?”

“Not at all.”

“Chipmunks,” Lily turned to them. “I know you’ve got the farmers, but you also have Harold.”

“Orange slice cookies. On it, Lady Captain Lily.” Kate saluted and then fluttered her hand and bowed.

Lily restrained a sigh. Of course Kate would choose both.

Pauline spoke up. “I think we should take the popsicles, Lady Captain President, we’ve got the big freezers in the Wine Cellar to keep them in.”

“Right, good plan.”

Pia spoke up. “I’ll take one of cocktail slots. That way I can work closely with Tim to make sure they’re fun and fizzy.”

Sonja spoke up. “We also have the other fruits in our forest. So, we’ll take a cocktail slot too. And help everyone harvest fruit.”

Ingrid was next to volunteer. “Ma Anna knows pastry, and croissants like those crabwiches are pastry. We’ll take the crabwiches and make different meat salads for them.”

“Fish salad, chicken salad, egg salad, ham salad,” Violet muttered.

Pauline checked her list, “That leaves the Pandas, the Bulls, and the Cats.”

“What do we have left?”

“Veggie skewers.” Pauline checked. “Snacks, bread and cheese, etc., and more cocktails.”

Loretta spoke quickly. “We can do the Snacks, bread, and cheese and so on. That’s all shopping. We are power shoppers. And none of the stinky stuff from Will’s Mill either.”

Ami wrinkled her nose. “We have a spa. We know cocktails. We’ll help out there and see what we can do with our grapes.”

“That leaves us the Veggie Skewers, and we can get most the produce from the Farmer’s Market and do assembly in Valedale.” Melissa nodded.

Lily spoke up. “This is going to sound crazy, but maybe we should have Courtney Summers do the Midsummer Feast. She’s a local and maybe she knows the local dishes.”

“Barney, Marley, and Carney can cook too,” Kate said. “Or, so says Barney. They have all the traditional recipes.”

“Kate, can you do the invitation thing? I’m sure the Baroness will refuse to invite her personally. But notice, she showed up last time.”

“I’ll invite all of them to do it. Make it a family affair. It’s a week and if we have too much food, well better than none at all.” Kate nodded.

“All right, well, here is hoping that the budget can take this,” Lily said.

“I bet we can get the farmers to donate lots of the supplies,” Kate waved her hands. “It’s for the Midsummer Festival after all.”

“That would be good.”

“We can approach them individually and get back to the group,” Amelie said with a nod.

Luciana spoke up. “I’d like to put a cabana up on the beach near the Dews Farm to be the gathering spot for everyone finishing up their charity events.”

“Splendid plan, Luciana,” Lily nodded. “We can set up one there, and a dance floor and it can be a celebration. At the end of the week, we’ll have all the money. Where are we keeping the money?”

“Silverglade Manor’s safe.”

“Right, we’ll have all the money and can present Maya with a big fake check. And I hope that will be enough to get them out of their debts and back on their farm.”

“They’re in foreclosure,” Loretta sighed. “Not bankruptcy. I had to go over it with her three times.”

“If they’re in foreclosure, that’s easier than bankruptcy to an extent. Though what did they do? Take a loan out on their farm?”

“From G.E.D. instead of a bank.” Loretta pushed her hair back behind her neck.

“Well, Ms. Drake is going to take the cash or else I’ll shove it where the sun don’t shine,” Lily muttered.

“Make it super public,” one of the girls said. “She can’t be a monster in front of a lot of people.”

“Ms. Drake?” Amelia asked.

Josefina snorted.

“It’s worth a try.”

“We’re going to have to do the same thing for the stables once it happens.” Ginny said.

“Have they tried anything but threats?”

“No. But the stable is in debt. To the bank, not to them, praise Aideen. But if the bank forecloses on the property, we’ll all be kicked out. Though your plans with the Friesians have been working. And Mr. Kemball has started on the Riding Arena. We’ve been having to keep him honest.”

“That must be a job and a half.”

“Like keeping James honest,” Pia said.

There was some nervous laughter.

“All right, Mares, Frogs, Squirrels, Terriers, and Kittens,” Lily said. “Get your areas in order. Your job is to focus on your section of South New Jorvik County and come enjoy the Midsummer Beach Party when it’s on. If you have problems with G.E.D. or Dark Core, report to me or to Linda.”

Pauline interrupted. “Music, Lily. Music!”

“Well, Fort Pinta will have DJ Kai. And I know New Hillcrest will have Syntax.”

“We’ve got a pretty big beach with a lot of islands all picked out.”

“I think asking Mr. Wetton for thirteen acts again is a bit too soon. Plus, it would make Rainbow Week less special.”

“Radio the different music the DJs are doing.” One of the girls suggested. “Set up a transmitter. Jack it through that tower in the Grey Mountains that G.E.D. has set up and it should get the entire county. Or stream it online.”

“That’s devious, and I like it.” Lily grinned.

“They shouldn’t have an obnoxious radio tower that big up there anyways. Radio towers can be much more discreet. I mean, put one on the observatory and it won’t be a blight to the landscape.” There was a sniff.

Lily turned to Pauline. “Happy?”

“Syntax can hack the tower,” Ginny said.

“Yes, keep them hacking for the greater good.” Lily smirked.

Kate shouted. “Okay, pizza time!”

They were all hungry. And there were new people to meet. So, they had pizza and wings and loaded potatoes and talked to each other and Tim. Though they all agreed Tim was quite strange and was it college or something else?

They split up.

FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.

Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.

#star stable #star stable online #sso #fan fic #jorvik reimagined #star stable salt #silverglade reimagined #completely harmless #beach is tough not to be tacky #many nods to ruth westside

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dem-obscure-imagines · 5 years

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The Familiar

Thackery Binx x Reader Prompt: Some of y’all asked for some Binx around Halloween time but I couldn’t write any since I was busy with school, so I’ve just had this floating around in my head since like October. Apologies. Warnings: None? Word Count: 2.2k

You’d decided a long time ago that you weren’t a great witch. It wasn’t that you were an evil one, no, you tried your best to keep the balance. It was just that you were...as your mother put it, rather inexperienced. You hadn’t had much time to hone your skills yet, and your magic was far from fully controlled. You weren’t good at brewing potions or casting spells...overall, you were kind of a mess, but you meant well.

And that, Thackery figured, was probably the reason he had stumbled upon your house in the first place. He knew well after his couple hundred years wandering through the streets of Salem, that any witch worth her hexes needed a familiar to keep her on the right path, so your familiar is just what he became.

Now, nearly two years later, you were curled up on the couch with your knitting. It wasn’t a particularly magical project you were working on, but you’d been told by your mother that crafting something with magical hands often increased its magical properties. You figured that must be the case for something like this, something that took so long to make.

You heard Thackery’s paws pad across the wooden floor and into the living room, where you were settled.

“Are you a bit cold? It’s rather cold in here.” He noted. How he was able to tell, all covered in fur like he was now, you’d never know.

“Now that you mention it, yeah, I am.” You agreed, setting your knitting to the side and manifesting a spell in your hand. It was a little one, so it didn’t require nearly as much thought or focus as it had for you a few years ago, but it still required a free hand or two. You watched as a little flame grew in the palm of your hand and then, with a flick of your wrist, you banished it to the fireplace, where the logs caught nicely, beginning to warm the big room of the old Salem house on the sea.

“What are you making?” Thackery tilted his head and watched as you picked up your project again. His sharp green eyes fixed on the string and you could tell it was taking every bit of his consciousness to resist the urge to play with it. Cute, you decided.

“Scarf. It’s going to get colder soon.” You reminded him quietly, as though the orange trees outside weren’t a reminder of the fact. Halloween had come and gone uneventfully, so you were safely on your way through November, trying to balance your magical studies with all of the hobbies you had, this being one of them. Well, that and bonding with your familiar. Although, the last of those things wasn’t too difficult. You knew he was pretty fond of you.

“Right. The weather tends to do that, doesn’t it?” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be Thackery Binx, after having lived through so many seasons and years and decades and centuries. Time really didn’t mean anything to someone who’s immortal. It was sad. “Oh, don’t be sad for me, love.” He cooed, looking at the expression on your face. Your bond with him did many things. One of them was letting you tap into the other’s emotions from time to time, not that he didn’t know you well enough to be able to tell.

“It is sad, though, isn’t it?”

“I suppose. But you shouldn’t be sad for me. Someone as precious as you shouldn’t waste time on being sad.”

You couldn’t seem to explain your racing heart, nor the way it warmed your insides when one of his little paws rested on your working hands, stilling them in their places. He looked up at you with those emerald green eyes. “It’s okay, really, it is.”

Your next words were quiet. Had it not been for his acute senses, you doubted he’d have been able to hear you at all. “But it’s not, though.”

Thackery sighed, lowering his paw as you started to put your knitting away and instead picked up the remote for the TV. You pulled your blanket up higher over your legs and gave your thighs a pat, inviting him on. He gladly curled in your lap, warm and purring when you pet him behind the ears, making sure to find his favorite spot.

“We’ll figure it out,” he reassured you between fits of purrs. “Someday…”

“Yeah,” you mulled through thoughts, biting your lip. “Someday…”

***

Your next day of adventure brought you to one of the only genuine witch suppliers in town. It wasn’t hard to imagine that a place like Salem seemed to foster a lot of tourist traps as opposed to genuine places. You’d had to weed through a lot of them the hard way, using some pointers from your mother to steer clear of the ones filled with nothing but nonsense and shiny things.

This one, however, was run by one of the older witches in town, a kind soul who always gave you a discount on books and potion ingredients. She also had very good advice from time to time, so you figured she might have the answer to your question.

“Information on familiars, eh? I do believe I have a few tomes on that. This way, dearie.” Elzabeth led you down the shelves in the front of the cozy little shop. “How is your little Thackery doing these days? Staying out of trouble?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Chased a bird the other day, but aside from that, it’s been business as usual.”

“You usually bring him here. I was surprised to see you alone.”

“I’m working on a bit of a gift for him, actually. That’s why I need the spells.”

She smiled, and when she did, her eyes seemed to twinkle. “I was wondering when you’d come here looking for something like this, actually, once you realized what happened to him.”

“Yeah, it’s really sad.”

“Very sad. He used to wander in here all the time before he found you. I think he was sort of always looking. It just took him a while to find a witch he could count on.” Your heart melted at that. A witch he could count on.

“We’re a good match, him and I.”

She handed you a thick leather book with a wink. “I think so too.”

***

Thackery sat bolt upright the second he heard your keys in the door. You were late. You were never late, but today you were. The cat had been worried. He was about to hop through the cat door and go looking for you.

“Sorry I’m late, buddy. Traffic was rough.” You explained, walking through the door holding a big brown paper bag with one arm and holding your broom in the other hand.

“You flew.” He tilted his head, eyes fixed on your vehicle of choice.

“It was windy.” You amended, plucking a dead leaf out of your hair and holding it up as evidence. ‘

Thackery nodded, but he still wasn’t quite convinced, his green eyes narrowing in suspicion. You walked out to the table and set the bag down, unloading your goodies. Some groceries, some ingredients to restock your brewing stash, some more yarn, and a smaller paper bag that you didn’t unload. Instead, you waved your hand over it, sending it to your room.

“What was that?”

“Some books.” You replied nonchalantly.

“Oh, alright.” Thackery hopped up onto the table and then onto your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against yours, a little way to show you how much he missed you. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too.”

***

That night, long after Thackery went to sleep, you set to work. Elzabeth’s shop wasn’t the only place you had stopped that afternoon. You had made another quick place to a store called Familiars R Us, where you picked up all of your favorite treats for Thackery. Today though, the only thing you’d gotten him was a shiny new collar.

Cracking open the book of spells from Elzabeth’s, you flipped to the page you wanted, gripped the collar, and murmured the incantation scrawled on the yellowed paper. The candles around you flickered, flashed, and then blew out, leaving you sitting in the dark clutching an enchanted object. Steam rose off of it and your hand burned holding onto it, so, cursing, you set it down to cool off. You figured, or hoped, that when you woke up the next morning, it would be cooled off enough to put to use…

***

By the time the sun came up, you were already in the kitchen, toiling away at some useless luck potion one of the boys in your class was paying you to brew for him. It would work, yes, but at the end of the day, it was meaningless. It did, however, distract you from what was coming ahead.

“You’re anxious,” Thackery announced, hopping up to sit on the counter before even touching the breakfast you’d laid out for him, eggs and sausage, one of his favorites. “Everything alright, love?”

“I’m good, yeah.”

“Well, that’s not the truth, now is it? I know you’re not nervous about the potion you’re brewing, judging that it’s liquid luck.”

“I’ll explain it to you as soon as I get this bottled up, alright?”

“Okay.” He settled, hopping to the table to eat off of his plate.

You ladled a few bottles of love potion out of the cauldron before flicking your wrist to put out the flame. You could probably sell the leftovers to the Potion place next to Elzabeth’s. Satisfied with your work, you set the bottles on the counter and then joined Thackery at the table and picked up your fork.

He stopped eating, looking up at you eagerly.

“What?”

“Explain yourself, witch.” He teased.

“Well, I enchanted something last night and I’m nervous to try it out is all.”

“Oh. What did you enchant?”

“A collar…” You pulled the artifact from the pocket of your cloak and set it on the table. He looked it over before looking back at you, a question waiting behind his green eyes.

“You’re not trying to mute me, are you? If I was annoying you, you could have just said something.”

“It’s not that.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I love the sound of your voice, Thackery, you know that.”

“Is it for me? I suppose I should have asked that first.”

“It IS for you. A...belated birthday gift of sorts, I guess.” You took a few bites of sausage and eggs, waiting for him to say something more or ask what enchantment you had put on it. That would probably be an important thing to ask. You were guessing he didn’t ask because he didn’t want to get his hopes up. You felt the anxiousness manifesting in him, too. “I can help you put it on whenever you’re ready.”

His eyes didn’t leave yours when he answered, “I’m ready.”

So, standing up, you helped clasp the brown leather collar around Thackery’s neck. And then you waited. Not even a second later, he groaned in discomfort, hopefully a good sign. Then, he mewled, hopping off of the table away from you, hiding himself behind the large round wooden structure.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” You asked after a few concerning moments of quiet. You moved to peek around the table, but you were stopped by the sound of a voice, and a head of sandy hair rising up from behind it. Large hands and human fingers gripped it, pulling himself into a standing position.

Any question you had was silenced at the sight of him. It had worked. Holy shit, it had worked. A black sweater was draped over his frame, and a pair of ripped blue jeans adorned his long legs. Thackery looked up at you with wide green eyes before surging forward and collecting you in his arms, pressing a long and desperate kiss to your lips, followed by three shorter but equally desperate ones.

The breath was sucked out of your lungs, your knees going wobbly at the fiery passion he instilled in you. He pulled away and studied your features, analyzing, although he was more than capable of just feeling your emotions through your bond. There was no regret or disgust or anything, only warmth and swirls of surprise.

“H-how did you-?” He pulled you against his chest, long fingers combing through your hair.

“Elzabeth came through. She’s amazing.”

“Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to your hairline, exhaling a long breath with his lips against your skin. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.”

“And you’re...you’re okay with...your cat kissing you?” He was having a bit of trouble wording exactly what had just unfolded.

“Well,” you tilted your head, pretending to consider it, “I think I’d like it if he did it again.”

“Oh, well in that case…” Thackery grinned and tilted your head up to his, connecting your lips once more.

#thackery binx #thackery binx x reader #thackery binx imagine #hocus pocus #hocus pocus imagine #fluff

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mrneighbourlove · 5 years

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Negotiations in a Fiery Alliance: Ch 5. Powerful Fiery Union

Zannah took a breath as she cracked her neck, feeling drained from the meeting. One of Annuciata’s brothers made a pass at her as she first entered her room. She had to put on a pretty face and explain she just wasn’t interested at the time being for any tours.

Getting herself ready, she had one of the palace servants escort her to the Queen. With a knock at the door, the maid gave a bow. “My Queen. Emperor Zannah wishes to attend the spa session with you.”

"Very well, let her in." Queen Annuciata responded from inside the spa room. She was sitting in the pool, full of steaming water, relaxing with her long hair in an up-do. The hot water did wonders for her sore muscles and feet from the high heels. "And attend to her needs."

Zannah had her clothes taken and folded nicely. Using a towel to cover herself, she dipped into the pool, the water sizzling at her touch as she adjusted the water perfectly to her needs. Throwing the towel away for the maids to take away, she sat a meter away from the Queen. “This is nice.”

"It's the best part of the day, when I come in here, and I can relax." Annuciata sighed as she took a sip of juice from the platter the servant offered. "A little time for me, myself and I... and present company included."

"I can only hope that I can come close to one tenth of greatness of yourself in your spare time." Zannah rolled her shoulders and held her head back. "One of your brothers thought it would be cute to show me his tower. Is that code for something?"

"Let me guess, it was Dario, wasn't it?" Annuciata snickered, knowing that her twin brothers were always up to something with the visiting royal women. "If they cannot rule here, I suppose they're setting their sights elsewhere."

"Shame for them I'd find their 'towers' brittle and frail~"

"Prefer women to men, Empress?" Annuciata removed one of the cucumbers from her eyelids to look at Zannah. "Can't say I blame you."

"This worlds history has been dominated by strong, wise, powerful woman. Many who had to fight against monstrous men. And let's be honest. Men covet woman because we are fine and beautiful. Why can't I have some of that as well I say."

"You have a point, Empress." Annuciata motioned for the servants to offer the Empress a drink. "Dario and Enzio fancy you because you are both fine and beautiful... and you have a kingdom." The queen then inquired of Zannah. "Though I am curious, Empress, as to why you've never found a man to control? Or is it because all the handsome ones like Kahli have been taken?"

"Because I don't desire a man. And my kingdom does not require one. The most pressure I ever received was to have a child. I did so. Having a lover can help build power, but that is not the reason to have one, or my desire to have one." The Empress took her drink and swallowed the succulence of the beverage. "Men like Kahli make excellent instruments to fight for your will."

"I cannot help but wonder how the young sister of Queen Zarazu's managed to catch Kahli, especially since he's a rarity with that kind of power." Annuciata slid the tray of cucumbers over to Zannah, in case she wanted a couple to rest upon her face. "Either way, plenty of fish in the sea, but how to know which is right for me? Things are so much easier and sensible with a woman anyhow. Do you currently have a lover?"

"I do not Queen Annuciata." Zannah slowly took bite of one of the cucumbers. "You ever friends with Princess RInku?"

"I've met her on a few occasions, but we are not necessarily known." Annuciata shrugged lightly as she sunk into the water up to her shoulders. "We're cordial to each other due to her status of princess, though we're not very close friends."

"She was the only person I viewed as potential lover. I didn't work out do to the war, but I think we had a spark. I spark that died due to our responsibilities after the war ended. So she set my standards. Power, courage, and beauty." Zannah gave a light laugh. "Of course, I was sixteen at the time, so how would I know if I was looking at the most beautiful woman in front of me or not."

"Young love is so innocent and so pure, I remember those days." Annuciata sighed as she thought back on the memories. "I used to have this crush on stable boy when I was thirteen. He was nearing eighteen. So handsome, so tall, so charming... until he became a guard, and his personality shifted. No longer was he the nice boy I fell for, but a condescending jerk to those who worked under him. Men."

“Well, someone close to me that I admired tried to make me his concubine when he had newfound power go to his head.” Zannah took a sip of her wine, eying over the Queen. It was a shame the water and the steam covered her features. “How’s your joints feeling?”

"I stand by my statement of why buy the whole pig if you can just get the sausage for free." Annuciata picked off her cucumbers to look at the Empress. "Some old hurts will never disappear, Empress, leaving scars for life. Though the warmth of the spa manages to ease them away... well, some of them."

“No... they never will.” Zannah cleared her mind and focused on the Queen. “I’m guessing you’ve never had a Hasai massage before, have you?”

"No, I have not." Annuciata sounded intrigued. "Is it some sort of specialty in your empire?"

“The Skurge tribe, given their fiery abilities, have the talent to heal and soften the muscles with just a touch. I am not only not an exception to this, but a master of the art. Would you trust and give this Empress the honour of demonstrating?”

"A demonstration sounds like a slice of heaven, Empress." Annuciata agreed to the massage, scooting over closer to Zannah. "My neck is always tense. I feel like when I'm on the throne, I cannot move unless it's with all the grace of a doll."

Zannah brushed her thighs against the Queen's, a warmth already filling her. "Be sure to relax."

Getting behind Annuciata, Zannah began her work, her hands starting below the Queen's shoulders. The warmth Annuciata felt from just holding hands the night before was magnified immensely now. The Empress applied pressure with her palms as she began her work. "If you want to sit on my lap, or get out of the pool, I can position closer if you'd like."

"Hrm-mmmhhh..." Annuciata had been reduced to mere little mumbles by the intense warmth spreading throughout her body. It felt so wonderful to be rid of all the aches. Keeping proper posture was important, though sometimes, Annuciata wondered if it was really necessary to wear such a heavy crown. Maybe she could have some of the jewels taken out and switched with fakes to reduce the weight. For now, all she wanted was to enjoy this massage. "Whatever's... mmm... easier for you..."

Zannah lifted the Queen rather easily onto her lap by picking her up from the waist. Continuing, she went down Annuciata's back. Her bare bottom against the Empress thighs felt great. And at this close, Annuciata was sure she could feel abs if she pressed closely enough with her back.

"Oh wow." Annuciata was definitely surprised when Zannah lifted her so easily. "Mmm... you're pretty built for a lady..." The Queen of Danjur was like putty in the Empress' hands. "Not a lot of those around these parts."

"The Hasai are a warrior race at heart. I'm no exception. I was forced to train as a child, so if I stopped now, all that hard work would turn to fat. I wish I had a body like you Annuciata. So petite. So smooth..." The Empress rubbed the Queen's neck, rubbing out her last kinks. With a smooth swift motion, she gave Annuciata a crack of the neck, and with a pop, she felt fantastic.

"OH!" Annuciata jolted slightly when she felt her bones shift slightly. It felt... wonderful. The tension was gone, the aches disappeared, and the Queen felt like she could actually move again without the stiffness in her body. "That was... are you sure it wasn't magic?"

"Part of it was, but most of it is just knowing the nervous system of the human body." Zannah's hands lay on the Queen's stomach, her heat still filling the Queen. "You should be good for three weeks of full free motion."

"You're like a fireplace, Empress." Annuciata was still not used to being touched so freely, jumping a little at Zannah's hands. "I feel like I can do my ballet without wincing now."

"Tell me more about what you think you can do? I want to hear your imagination."

"I took ballet as a little girl and wanted nothing more than to fly like the beautiful swans outside in my pond." Annuciata stretched her limbs. "Although I lacked wings, I still felt like I could soar when I took those leaps..." She looked over her shoulder at the Empress. "Thank you."

"I can see it. You're beautiful." As Annuciata turned to her, and kept her gaze on the Empress, Zannah slowly leaned in to kiss her lips.

Annuciata quickly pulled in Zannah for a deep kiss.

"... by the goddesses, I've wanted to do that since I first saw you."

"I'm glad you feel that way." Zannah returned the kiss again, moving a hand to rub Annuciata's thigh, the other holding her hand.

"Don't get me wrong, I like men, but women are so much better." Annuciata tangled her hands in Zannah's hair. "You are so much better. A literal goddess of fire just waltzed into my kingdom and like hell I'm letting you go."

"You've been witty, charming, and intelligent in what I've seen from you. And you understand power. You've fit all my standards." Zannah turned Annuciata to face her, aggressively gripping at her breasts under the water, kissing her deep again. A burning heat was burning in the Empress, the factory of love at work. When Hasai found a mate, a true mate, they bonded for life. Zannah knew that these were early signs of that. Despite the potential political danger, she didn't stop.

"Excuse my language, Empress, but I want to fuck." Annuciata placed a single finger on Zannah's lips, giving a soft gasp as those hands squeezed her breasts. "So shush with the talk for now, and let me just hear those moans." Without giving Zannah a chance to protest, Annuciata pushed the Empress onto the ledge and opened her legs. Then, she lowered her mouth to lick at Zannah's clit.

Zannah's body was dripping wet, but Annuciata was making her body simmer, with actual steam sizzling the water off her body. Zannah started to pant as the Queen went low against her clit.

Annuciata ran her hands down Zannah's legs, and then back up to her thighs. Her fingers spread open Zannah's folds and her tongue dove inside the empress' hot insides. It was almost like a drug, this heat filling her from inside out, like there was a fire inside of body. Was it part of Zannah's magic? Or was it just a mutual connection?

Zannah gritted her teeth, her walls squeezing on the tongue. Placing a hand on Annuciata's head, she felt her majestic hair, and pushed her to go deeper. "S-such technique."

"Hrmmm-mmm." Annuciata lifted her mouth off of Zannah's intimate parts with a grin. Her tongue swirled around the outer parts of her mouth, almost like she was making sure to get all of the empress' taste. "And? Do you want more?"

"Yes. In fact, I demand more." Zannah massaged her smaller breasts, licking her lips in anticipation. "I could make love to you on the floor, on a bed, or anywhere else you desire."

"As long as you don't melt me into a pile of goo, Danjur needs it's queen in one piece." Annuciata purred at the empress. "What is your preference? I'll make sure we won't be disturbed."

Zannah scooped Annuicata out of the tub and pushed her onto the bare floor, holding her down by the wrists. "Let's get a little savage~"

With another purr, Zannah kissed Annuicata again, lathering her tongue with the Queens own.

"Define 'savage', Zannah, I'd like to see what you really think of the word." Annuciata wrapped her legs around Zannah's waist. "And don't give me a textbook answer."

"Tell me, what's your tolerance for pain?" Zannah trailed her hand to the back of Annuciata's neck to hold her steady.

"Did you take a good look at my feet?" Annuciata had horrid looking toes and bruised feet due to the intense strain of ballet dancing. Even some toenails were gone, having been ripped or broken off during dancing. Most of her toes and a few bones in her feet had been broken due to the repeated training. "Ballet is not for the faint of heart, you know."

Zannah took her hand so Annuciata could feel a scar on her lower back. "Feel that? Wounds from the war. I also have some scars under my hair... dig into it. Make them feel something again."

"So a little twinge gets you going?" Annuciata wrapped her fingers into Zannah's hair once more and lightly scrapped them into her skull. "Maybe a little..." She took her teeth and bit into Zannah's neck, giving her a hickey. "Love bite?"

"Hmmm, that's good. Tell me how you like fire~" Zannah's hands warmed up, and Annuicita felt a hot smack on her breast like a heated poker. It didn't leave any marks, but she felt the heat none the less.

"OH!" Annuciata did jump slightly at the intense heat, however, the tingle of pain disappeared as soon as it came. "Fire is passionate, illuminating, and dangerous... you get too close, you get burnt. Yet, you get close enough... you get such a lovely warmth."

"Exactly." The Queen suddenly felt Zannah's fingers pour into her womanhood. Pumping her, the Empress forced Annuciata to lick her other hand. "You're a tight little lady. Let's stretch you out."

"E-Easy there," Annuciata took in a sharp inhale. "Tight for a reason, my eager empress. Hasn't been occupied in a while." Nibbling on Zannah's fingers, the queen of Danjur wriggled slightly under the touches.

"Good. More for me than." Zannah continued for a while, pressing her thumb on he lover's clit. "Bite harder."

"Ahh... as you wish, empress." Annuciata had a smug expression as she then bit hard on Zannah's shoulder, close enough to draw blood.

Zannah gave deep moan from the pain, savouring it. When Annuciata licked her shoulder wound, she felt a high like no other from Zannah's divine blood. "Oh yes."

"Oh... oh my..." Annuciata felt like she was on a high. This was a different feeling from drinking too much wine, this was like floating among the clouds. Was she really flying now? It was like flying. This truly was one of her dreams, for sure, this kind of sensation. She wanted more, she never wanted to let go. Snaking her hands down Zannah's back, she slipped one finger into the empress' pussy, wriggling it around.

Zannah gritted her teeth, simply only able to massage Annuciata's body as both woman stood on their knees. "Oh Annuciata~ My dear, you're beautiful."

"Beautiful or savage, Zannah, you tell me, can a woman be both?" Annuciata nudged the Empress onto her back, and eased her way between Zannah's legs. Then nipped really hard on Zannah's inner thigh before turning her attention back to the empress' clit, laving her tongue slowly, teasingly.

"Yes, we can." Zannah groaned, not caring if anyone heard or saw them. This was her and Annuciata's moment. She rubbed her own clit, and Annuciata saw literal electric sparks go between Zannah’s finger tips. "I'm feeling something primal for you."

"Oh? Close?" Annuciata pushed her fingers inside Zannah's passage, moving them in and out, all the while, making sure to keep some attention to Zannah's clit.

Zannah finally opened her mouth, needing to breath through the pressure. Annuciata and her felt the fire burning both inside them. The Empress would never admit it, but she was becoming undone by the Queen. She pulled her close to kiss her passionately to give the Queen of Danjur some pleasure in turn as she continued her handy work down below.

It was not long before the heat rising in Annuciata caused the queen to fill the edge of bliss feeling her senses. So this was what flying was like? Birds were so free, so gifted, and could go anywhere in the world. That's what Annuciata wanted, and right now, she was experiencing it. Yet, her fingers continued to touch and pleasure Zannah.

Zannah felt her most animalistic instincts burn. Sex had always been done with lower beings before. There was no love in it. Perhaps that was why now she felt her mind crackle and burn. Annuciata was no ordinary woman. She was royalty by blood, just like herself. The need to bond could not be denied.

Applying her own fingers to the Queen, both woman pleasured and pumped each other. Finally, Zannah felt she could let go. Her mind and body gave out, and like a bomb, she exploded into a triumphant scream of ecstasy. Her fingers gave Annuciata a shock on her clit as Zannah’s juices flowed down her thighs, her feet buckling.

"I think..." Annuciata was out of breath as she slumped against Zannah. "I finally felt... what flying was like..."

Zannah held her gently by the face, turning her to look at her. The Emperor’s eyes burned with lust and love. “Annuciata. Bond with me.”

"Bond?" Annuciata repeated, unsure of what Zannah meant.

“Bond, be my mate for life”.

"Mate for life?" Annuciata sounded surprised. "Zannah, I... as much as I would like that, you know it's..." She ran a had down her face, sighing sadly. "It's not possible."

"I know the implications. I know the political calculations we'd need to go around." Zannah's golden eyes burned as she lifted Annuciata up to stand with her, holding the Queen close. "This alliance of ours can become much, much more now. And I would burn the world for you. My power is limitless if I were to use its vast potential. And I'd do it for you. As a Hasai, I've chosen you."

The Empress took the hair out of the Queen's face to look at her more clearly.

"Listen... I know I sound crazy, but what we did here was something special. I don't care how slow and calculated we need to take this, but I want you Annuciata. We have the combined power to make a relationship work."

"While we want it to work, there's still some issues we'd have to sort." Annuciata sighed, looking downcast. "We cannot be together because of our kingdoms. You'd have to be in the Kikai Empire, I'd have to be here. I'll have to produce an heir sooner or later. And not to mention, we'd never be able to let anyone know..."

"Annuciata." Zannah gripped the Queen's chin firmly to look back at her. "You are Queen of your nation. Who will stand against you? And I am a God given flesh. Give me your faith, as through me you can find the inner strength to overcome any trial. I have a plan my dear."

"What plan?"

"Give your kingdom a child. Give them a beacon to have faith in the future. Once that is done, put your foot down. You can have anything you set your mind to. As for our kingdoms, we will have an open relationship, building a superpower together between our two nations. Uskar, Labrymma, Al-Daida, Omisha, and even Hyrule wouldn't compare to our combined might. With you by my side, and I at yours, we'd have unlimited power."

"Power yes, but... power is not everything, Zannah." Annuciata held the empress' hand. "There has to be a balance. Too much power, there would be targets on your back and my own. We'd have to be careful, for sure. Danjur will have to be safe and so will the Kikai Empire. We would love each other, but our duty is to our people." She shook her head. "I don't want anything to happen to you. While I know your might in magic and strength far surpasses my own, there are others out there who could possibly take you from me."

"None. No one can kill me. Especially now. With us together, our people will be the greatest on earth. Give me power... but also give me love. Trust me." Zannah gave Annuciata a pillowly kiss on the lips.

"Death finds a way of claiming even those who are immortals, beautiful..." Anncuiata leaned into the soft smooch. "We will have to be a secret for now."

"Why do we need it to be a secret? What are you afraid of?" Zannah pulled the Queen close to her.

"... my brothers." Annuciata frowned. "They'll see it as a weakness to extort. They'll try to use it as an excuse to take away my throne. A woman and another woman cannot produce a child. They'll see me as incompetent and try to sway the council their way. My kingdom would suffer for it... or horrors upon horrors, yours would."

"They are weak. Do not focus your mind on them." Zannah placed her finger tips on the Queen's temples to channel a calming energy into her. The Empress felt a need to make her lover feel safe. "It's not extortion. It's a partnership. You hold their miserable lives in your hands. I could even take them away from your burdened mind if you wished. As for a child, you can find a donor, just as I did. You giving birth you show your little council, but more importantly your people you have a legacy for them. Mark my words, from this point on, I will not allow either of our people to suffer."

"Weak or not, I will have to ensure my brothers do not try to turn my kingdom into a waste." Annuciata then brought up the main concern on her mind. "Even if we did pursue this, Zannah, I cannot let it influence my decisions with other kingdoms. I have to be fair. If I did find a donor for a child or created a scheme to make it appear as the others envisioned, how would we be able to give love to each other? The Kikai Empire is so far away."

Zannah lowered her head. She found herself having to control her temper as she breathed. Her hands caressed up and down the hips of the Queen. "You're making it hard to be in control of my emotions. I suppose that is due to my biology after the love making we did just now. Being 'fair' is what a child uses to have an advantage to stop having those stronger reign over them. Our love does not effect other kingdom's relationships. I'd travel as often as you needed me. And at a call I'd bring you to me. We can make this work, but I need you to have faith in me my darling."

"Faith... I suppose that is why religion is so difficult. It's hard to have faith when all the obstacles are ever present in your path." Annuciata kissed Zannah on the forehead. "Though I believe my faith in you will not change."

"Thank you. I will do what I can to bring us together." Zannah pulled Annuciata in for another kiss. "I'd like to return to your quarters."

"Hrm, my quarters? To stay?" Annuciata jested lightly. "I'll be honest, Zannah, I'm not good at sharing, I've always been a brat that way... might not let you leave."

"And I've always been good at disciplining brats. Be it my brother, my children, and perhaps even you." Zannah trailed a finger under the Queen's neck and pulled her along. "Show me the way my darling~"

"You can try all you want, but I doubt you'll succeed." Annuciata grinned at Zannah. "Come this way, my dear..."

#crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Warning #Not Safe For Work And Stuff #Very Gay #Lesbians #Zannah #Annuciata

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double-threnody · 6 years

Text

'Til Sea Swallows All

It had only taken moments for the rain to begin falling: the kind of rain that you could only find in La Noscea. None of the big, fat droplets of the odd desert storms in Thanalan that pelted you like hail, spooking your chocobo with cracks and flashes of heat lightning. Certainly none of the blistering gales that tore branches from the Shroud canopy, and none of the Coerthan sleet that chilled you to the bone, either. La Noscean rain was cool on the skin. It fell in a light mist, and sometimes it tasted like the sea. I curled the collar of my open shirt up over my neck, for all the good that it did.

I really should have worn my street clothes to the party and changed when I was there. Stupid.

Marching up the slick cobblestone path into the upper-tier neighborhoods of the Mists, I wrapped my arms beneath my drenched bikini top and tried to force the warmth back into my core. The weather might have been mild, and on any other day I might have gone for a jog to enjoy the drizzle, but after our little company meet-up I was feeling sick to my stomach.

I feel sorry for your lovers.

Six words really shouldn’t eat at me like that. I lashed out at a puddle as I heard them in my head, again, sending a spray of rainwater across the door of a cute little wood-and-stone single that didn’t really deserve it. It took me another five paces to notice that I had torn the ankle strap on my right sandal by kicking out like that. Drawing to a halt in the middle of the road, I rolled my foot onto the blade of the arch to get a better look at the damage.

“Yeah, me too, buddy,” I mumbled, my diagnosis grim. Wouldn’t be able to fix that without some work. Just like everything else. My steps picked back up, wet stomps in the rain punctuated with an annoying slap of sandal-sole to my heel on every other stride.

What did she know? The girl was new, newer than me. Younger, to boot. Not even half as experienced in suckin’ a dick or warmin’ a partner as myself, I’d be willing to bet.

I feel sorry for your lovers.

Someone was growling. I came to a stop and rested my elbow up against a fence post to try and wipe the rain from my eyes. I was growling, of course, grinding my teeth and sniffling back the damn rain that kept getting between my lashes. Navigator’s leaky nips, if I was ten summers younger when she said that to me…

I snorted. Pity parties in the rain, huh? That’s what it had come to? I must have looked like one hell of a proper roegadyn, propped up against some sad fuck’s property, hair dripping into my eyes while I tried to convince myself that the tears were just the mist. Papa would have wept. With a slow, shuddering breath, I wadded up all of the self-indulgent hurt I could find and spat it out on the cobblestones. Tears weigh you down, I heard my Papa rumbling in my ear. Five years gone and he still made the time to remind me when I’m bein’ a dumb bitch of a Wolf.

Tears weigh ya down, lass, an’ they’ll drown ya sure as a millstone tied ‘round your neck when you’re sailin’ troubled waters. That’s why you’ve gotta let ‘em spill. Let ‘em out, little birdie.

“I’m tryin’, Papa,” I whispered, choking out another ragged little sob. The nice thing about the rain was that it drove folks inside, kept ‘em where they would be nice and cozy and huddled by the fire. Nobody would see me puttin’ my Papa’s words to action but me and the gods, and I’d bet the Twelve had seen their share of tears.

It took me a few minutes, but sure as everything but tides and taxes, my tears ran dry. Lucky for me I had words to fall back on when some sour little gal had a rough day and decided to turn it on me. Another deep breath rattled my chest, filling me with new conviction and a stiff strength to my spine. Yeah. My lovers could speak for themselves, and I’d see they did. My feet began to march again, stepping and slapping in an off-beat tattoo as I took a turn off of my path and climbed a set of stairs cut into the stone. I might have still been dripping rainwater, dressed in nothing but a bathing suit and a loose shirt I tossed over myself, and my hair probably looked like a soaked wharf rat, but I felt lighter.

I pawed at the tiny pocket sewn between the buttons on the inside of my shirt for my keys. I really should have made this a hair bigger, I griped to myself; my big, green sausage fingers weren’t exactly shaped for a delicate touch. I managed to get the keyring free by the time I’d trotted into Iyrnswys’ front lawn, at least, and with a soft knock at the door I turned the key and let myself in.

“Hey sweetie, are ya home?” My voice was a little hoarse after my weepy walk in the rain, but Llymlaen blessed me with a set of horns to match the hull. I’m built like a battleship and plenty loud when I wanna be. Iyrn’s boots were set neatly beside the door, laced and dry in their usual spot… so she was definitely around, and had been for a while. I peeled the wet cotton from my shoulders with a shiver and draped the shirt over the sink - the dishes hadn’t been cleaned yet, I should take care of those for her - and kicked my sandals off of my feet beside her boots. Well, a sandal and a half. Feeling about behind the counter, I tugged a towel free from the rack and quickly set to rubbing the water out of my hair.

“Iyrnswys?” I rounded the corner from the entryway and into her reading nook, and there she was: slumped over a ledger, draped over an armchair, and snoring a slow, low drone that faded beneath the constant patter of raindrops on the roof. “Oh, honey,” I murmured, stepping in and wiping my arms free of rain. Judging by the notes I could read beneath the corner of her elbow, she was deep into another week of planning training for her squad and drawing up new exercises. A twitch shook her where she sat, and she grumbled something unintelligible in her sleep.

I pulled the wet towel from my shoulders to wipe at the thin trickle of drool escaping down her cheek, struggling not to outright laugh and wake her up. Knowing her, she’d spent another pair of back-to-back all-nighters fiddling away at lesson plans, and I’d take a walk beneath the bow before I interrupted her much-needed rest. With her face clean and her thick, blond hair swept out of her eyes, I dropped to a knee to work an arm beneath her knees and the other around her shoulders.

“Up an’ at ‘em, hon’,” I whispered, lifting her from her makeshift bed and into my arms. If I’d had a change of clothes I might have avoided soaking her through her shirt, but she’d live. The stairs were a little tricky - she was a Maelstrom-built Roe herself, and within a stone’s throw of my own weight class - but I paused to rub my heels into the carpet and make sure they were dry before descending. I had to carry her bridal-style down the steps just to make sure we fit.

Whenever she woke up, I’d have to talk her into setting up a cot upstairs. Something, at least. Sleeping in an armchair every night played hell on your spine.

Her bedroom door was left cracked open, thankfully, and I was able to shoulder my way in to lay her atop her sheets. It took me a few moments longer to work her out of her shirt and pants, and I threw them into the hamper as fast as I could. Navigator knew how long she’d been wearing the damn things. Finally, I was able to draw the sheets out from beneath her and bundle her up to her chin. I released another long huff as I sat on the edge of the mattress beside her; I might be stacked, but Iyrn ain’t light.

I wasn’t even aware that I was smiling until I felt one of her hairs - caught in my lip, apparently - tickling at my chin. Damn things got everywhere. Blowing a quiet raspberry and plucking it free, I leaned over to brush my fingers across her brow and the scar that split her skin. “You work too damn hard, hon’,” I whispered, a laugh on my tongue. “You’d best sleep hard, too.” Her skin was warm where I left a kiss, right between her thin brows, and as I climbed back to my feet I swore I could hear Brienne’s niggling voice again.

I feel sorry for your lovers.

My towel draped over my hips as I slipped out of the bedroom, and I tossed it into the laundry pile alongside my swimsuit top and bottoms before I could draw the bathwater for a soak.

“You’re allowed,” I murmured, testing the heat flowing into the drain. “Don’t think they need your pity, though.”

@kalaisgreen @rosxiv

#ffxiv #mateus rp #falkbryda #Iyrnswys #Brienne

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atypical60 · 7 years

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Do you like getting away for the weekend? Someplace close to home but far enough that it calls for a night at a hotel? The weekend before last, Bonaparte decided that an overnight trip to D.C. was long overdue. We dropped Chippy off at the doggie day care for a sleep over with his canine buddies. We spent a leisurely morning packing and we were off to make our way through traffic on I-95.

I still get a feeling of pride when I am in our Nation’s Capital. The Washington Monument is always a splendor to see!

We hadn’t been to our Nation’s Capital in a while. It’s our favorite place for a quick overnight—and I was so happy to be going there that I wasn’t even thinking about the politics. Both of us just wanted to have a good evening and enjoy the rest of the weekend. Close to home, the drive rarely takes more than three hours unless we hit a major traffic jam.

Oh yes. My little emoji uses the same language that I do! But an overnight trip truly is “Fan-f@!#ing-Tastic!

It isn’t as expensive as an overnight in New York and we always have a good time.

We regularly stay at the Marriott in Falls Church. It’s on the outskirts and not in D.C. proper. The location is incredibly convenient because the drive is 20 minutes away from downtown D.C. And the price point is incredibly reasonable.

Our old haunt, Bistro Français on M Street in Georgetown sadly went out of business. It’s a shame because this little place had been around for over 40 years and was consistently good but the chef and owner decided to retire.

Bonaparte, was devastated. And in his stubborn French way, vowed to “discover” another French restaurant. He did and he found a winner– La Chaumière.

If you think the outside is adorable, just wait till you see the inside!

We got to the hotel, relaxed for a bit then got ready for our dinner. I do not know what I was thinking but I wore a pair of very high heels. I absolutely love the shoes and wear them to work quite often. But I didn’t think ahead about walking up and down M Street, on the uneven pavement in such dangerous footwear.

These were the beauties I wore. They are lovely for the office but just don’t work for walking on city sidewalks or in city streets! Personally, I don’t know how streetwalkers do it. I admire them!

I couldn’t walk. Bonaparte was thrilled because the fact that I was unable to walk meant one thing–I couldn’t go into my favorite stores—among them J. Crew and TJ Maxx. The fact I couldn’t go into the stores because I couldn’t walk on the sidewalk to get to the stores. made him more merrier! And so, my Frenchman was thrilled because not being able to walk meant I could not spend any money!

No shopping aside, we ended up having a great, great dinner. La Chaumière’s interior has a rustic elegance. It’s comfortable and not intimidating. It’s larger than I pictured and as we left the restaurant after dinner, there was a line of people waiting to get in.

The interior is really very charming and cozy too!

Bonaparte started off with a pâté—which he said was delicious. I had a pike quenelle. Let me tell you something. I love quenelles. The best way I can describe a quenelle is that it’s a lighter-than-air dumpling and it’s like biting into a cloud of flavor. And the lobster sauce that the quenelle was floating was a sea of flavor!

The morsel that Bonaparte SHARED with me was absolutely delicious. Lots of good flavor but not overpowering��

This quenelle–was so incredibly light and heavenly that I HAVE to find a recipe. This is my new project!

As usual, Bonaparte went with steak and frites. I ordered the Magret de Canard—duck breast, in a black currant sauce. I love comparing the duck I order in restaurants to the duck I make at home and this was heavenly.

I really should not be posting photos of food like this while I’m back on Weight Watchers. I’m hungry now. Anyway, this is the Magret de Canard. OMG. It WAS better than mine. I love duck!

I don’t know what it is about red wine, but if it is a “good” one, I can drink it without suffering from a headache or heartburn. The wine we had was really good.

Do you like a good red wine? Try this. It was REALLY, REALLY good!

Coffee and dessert and we were let loose into the night.

Yes. We are a very wild couple. Our idea of D.C. nightlife is driving through the City and enjoying the sites. One of the things I absolutely love about Georgetown is that it is filled with young people. It’s just fun to see them out and enjoying life!

Yeah. Driving around Washington D.C. late at night is our idea of fun!

The next morning, was brisk and sunny. And after a hearty breakfast and a quick pack, we were off to the National Gallery of Art.

While Bonaparte enjoys eggs, and bacon, and sausage, and toast, I stick to my usual–a big bowl of oatmeal with dried fruit. Oatmeal–I could eat it anytime!

Oh. And I dressed for comfort the heels were packed away!

The National Gallery is one of my favorite places in D.C. I cannot even tell you how many times we’ve been here. And the secret on a Sunday morning is to get there early before it opens at 11 AM. We try to arrive before 10:30 AM

NOTE: The earlier you arrive, the better your chances of getting a parking space. And on Sunday morning parking is easy to come by. Park the car, walk around for a bit, people watch—it’s all part of the enjoyment!

A gloriously sunny day when the weather is still cold is the best time to visit a museum!

The fountain surrounded by flowers in the rotunda always gives me a good feeling..

Here’s some flowers I picked just for you!

So, this is one of the great things about the Gallery—you never know what kind of great exhibit you will come across. This visit it was the Della Robbia exhibit. Have you ever heard of Luca or Andrea Della Robbia? I hadn’t. And I like to think I’m pretty well-educated in the arts. I’m so pretentious! Oh well, you learn something new every day!

Come and look at some of the exhibit with me:

I was fascinated by the lemons and pinecones mixed with the greenery! I need to find replicas of these things to hang at home!

I want to know the secret of keeping these colors so vivid after centuries and centuries. I can’t even keep a pair of black pants from fading after one season!

I love a great Madonna–and this one is beautiful!

This was almost creepy because IRL it looked like she was looking right through you!

This yellow, green, blue color combination is doing something to me. I want to wear these colors!

It was so kind of the Della Robbia’s to sculpt a bust of Francis I of France!

A beautiful Pieta–Della Robbia style.

And we end with a couple of Saints!

After the exhibit, we roamed around looking at paintings. Now—my favorite artists are the French. I love the Impressionists but I also love Delacroix and Courbet. This time around we spent a good amount of the day admiring the Flemish and Dutch painters. You know, I forgot how much I like the Flemish/Dutch painters.

Here’s a bit of what we saw. And you know, when I look at a painting sometimes I think of things that I’m sure others don’t. I’ll explain:

I love Rembrandt’s portraits. I love the dark/light thing he has going on. But most of all, I dig the hat. Why can’t I find a hat like that?

“A Young Man in a Large Hat” by Frans Hals is one of my favorite paintings of all time. This young guy looks totally wasted. WHAT was he drinking? I’ll bet from the expression on his face that he was thinking of some girl he met the night before he posed for this. And the hat. The hat! I LOVE that hat. I want that large hat. It’s so much better than that dopey hat Pharrell wore in that Happy song video. And look at Young Man’s outfit. I would totally wear that.

Here’s another outfit I would wear. I am coveting that tan coat. It’s beautiful. The hat? Not so much–I would wear Young Man’s hat with that coat. But those boots with the red lining are to-die for. It isn’t fair that men got to have the good clothes back then..

…While the women looked like this? That hat is awful. It looks like a wig cap–believe me, I KNOW wig caps! And that thing around her neck. I guess its the way women hid turkey neck back then! Can we put some make up on this woman please?

I’m not crazy about the red hat on this Vermeer girl. I like the earrings in his other painting.

This guy looks miserable because I’ll be that turban weighs a good 25 pounds!

“Agrippina & Germanicus” by Sir Peter Paul Rubens. If I were Germanicus, I would want a refund from Sir Rubens for giving me that huge double chin. I don’t think they had chin lifts back then but he could have given her a better profile! Her hair is beautiful!

I see still life paintings like this and think “dinner”! I’m still hungry!

See what I mean? I put more thought on the clothing. Why don’t they make hats like they used to? Here are more paintings and sculptures from our little visit:

This gentleman’s neck thing is so much nicer than the woman a few paintings above. His is softer fuller, prettier. I would wear this one to hide my turkey neck!

I love the dress but she looks so depressed! Oh wait. She’s getting ready to stab herself. Or maybe since tweezers weren’t invented yet, she’s getting ready to cut some lady whiskers off her chin.

I’m bewildered by the fact that men, even young men dressed so beautifully. If a young man dressed like that today, he would be banned from using the men’s room!

..and why can’t a lingerie company make a bra that could give us the same “lift” as this woman-and they didn’t have padded bras in those days. Bring back boning in dresses!

This is a Spanish painting but I can’t remember the artist. I LOVE this painting. The women are so cute. I love the look on the woman with the little coral bow and I love how you can tell the other woman is probably laughing behind that fabric!

I love a tricorn hat and I wish that they were still sold for regular use. I would definitely wear one. The rest of the ensemble does nothing for me. I think the over-the-chin look is just wrong!

I’m amazed at how I’m naturally drawn to French painters. This is another one of my all-time favorites. “Elizabeth Throckmorton Canoness of the Order of the Dames Augustines” by Nicolas de Largilliere. I love nuns. And this painting is so beautiful-I swear if you stand close enough, you can get a waft of that powdery scent nuns are known for. One of my faves!

I LOVE the Art Nouveau period in painting and this is one of the details in a series of paintings about Joan of Arc by Louis-Maurice Boutet de Monvel. He is best known for his illustrations in children’s books but I love the clean lines and the basic simplicity.

Here we are in the Rodin section. Let me tell you something. I can’t stand Rodin. As a person. He was a tool. And if you ever get the chance, watch the film “Camille Claudel” starring Isabelle Adjani. I can bet that Rodin took credit for this sculpture when Camille Claudel is the one who sculpted it…

This one too. It has Claudel written all over it!

And as we exit, we bid farewell to France’s greatest king, Louis XIV, the Sun King!

I hope you enjoyed our little weekend trip! You don’t have to go far away to take a little trip. Sometimes the best way to chill and regroup is a little getaway during the weekend!

This has been played more than once on this blog but I can’t help it. Every time I go to a museum this enters my mind: Mussorgsky “Pictures at an Exhibition”.

A Little Trip to D.C. Do you like getting away for the weekend? Someplace close to home but far enough that it calls for a night at a hotel?

#art #Travel #Weekend trips

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