#the one ''true'' dandelion perhaps | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lavenderchqn · 12 days ago

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✧・| it's TV time!

— world of television works in mysterious ways. one thing that's current is that some background stars stay in memories forever.

content warnings: mentions of alcohol; mentions of dead bodies (it's not bodies though); geese. Also inspired by some silly kpop moments ₍^. .^₎⟆

this set of scenarios has been requested by anon!

𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

All the boats are lovely. The city’s all-known parade is finally here, and the local news station reports on the event. In the background, you can barely make out someone pushing another one and slipping on the hilltop themselves. Karma? Oh, absolutely.

Poor Aether.

He’s come with the cold mere days before the parade. He’s been so excited to experience it for the first time with you. And yet here he is… Stuck under blankets with a stuffy nose living vicariously through the people on TV. Aether even told you to attend the parade, so that at least one of you had the memories of it.

As one of the boats is announced something in the background catches his eye. Somebody in a very similar outfit to yours just slipped on the hilltop… Wait a second, THAT IS YOU.

The blond’s laughter gets mixed with coughs as he realises what just happened. With tears streaming from his eyes, he grabs his phone to send you a text.

Oh, Aether will remember this parade for his life. Despite spending it under blankets.

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈

It’s pouring outside. The poor television crew is stuck in the rain, reporting on the situation. Out of nowhere, the presenter is handed a crate full of dandelion-flavoured beer. Free of charge and to be drunk after the shoot.

“Oh, we will drink that after this is done.” The presenter moves the crate out of frame, muttering to themselves. The donor disappeared off the screen as quickly as they appeared. A nice gesture, making their day. Nobody would like to be out in this weather, seriously.

Venti’s lazing around the couch, watching TV. How nice it’d be if he were gifted a crate of alcohol one of these days. Although that person is familiar— Now, hold on!

He gets up in the blink of an eye, rushing for his alcohol stash. The person on the TV was you. Did you swindle one of his stolen crates? Surely not!

Alas, a crate of Mondstadt’s best dandelion beer is gone. On the other hand, there’s a handwritten note left on the table. With enough money to cover another stack! Way to go, 2-for-1 deal.

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

A casual retelling. Cautionary tale that’s calling out to all wig-craftsmen. The news reporting on an individual whose business almost put them in jail. Just because it made it seem like they had a dead body in their trunk.

It’s fascinating, Xiao thinks. The crime news reports are his favourite source of behaviour to be studied. They range from stupid to morbidly idiotic. How they survive in the world is a true mystery.

“Ma’m,” The police officer says, knocking on an eerily familiar door. The neighbourhood is one Xiao had seen before, that’s for sure. Oh, oh damn. He notices some hair sticking out of the car’s trunk. Don’t you drive a car like this? The colour matches and everything.

“Fucking hell…” Xiao’s eyes go wide, realising what’s going on. It is your car, your house and your voice. Your voice is so nervous when you see the situation. “Oh, that’s a wig!” You're mortified. Perhaps he should call you?

Yeah, he probably should.

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔

The exhibit is exquisite. The educational masterpiece on land and sea turtles. The news is about the first visitors and their experience at the exhibit. What, however, catches everyone’s eye is not the creatures. But instead, it’s on an adult standing their ground.

“I like turtles!” An annoyed shout echoes through the room. As the camera (and all the other passerby) turn in the direction of the noise, the captured footage is nothing you’d expect. An adult arguing with a child. Over turtles.

Heizou, who decided to stay home and let you experience the exhibits beforehand, didn’t need to see the camera pan over to you. The voice was enough to tick him off. He pinches his nose slightly, trying not to chuckle.

He’s certain the child overstepped his boundaries and tried to shame you for being an adult who enjoys turtles. The tone and posture point to those. And you know what? The next time he has time off, you’ll have a date at the exhibit. He is not letting a child scold you for your hobbies.

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

It’s supposed to be a calm day. Reporting during the summer heatwave. Showing how the people are combating the atrocious weather. But, from the corner of your eye, you can see a person who's chased by a flock of geese.

“— Jump in the pool!” Some passersby say when faced with the question. The interviewer is going from person to person and asking them the same question. Solutions to combat heat.

Kazuha sighs, lounging on the balcony. He’s like a cat, soaking up all the heat from the heated deck. Had he had any speck of green in his hair, you could argue he’s performing photosynthesis. How funny — when everyone’s dying from the heatwave, Kazuha’s thriving.

A poor background character catches his attention. An unfortunate soul who's chased by a flock of birds. Must be geese— Hold on.

Kazuha sits up and actually goes to watch the program. There’s only a single person who’d get in trouble like that. Yep, you. Oh god. “Please don’t lose an arm, love.” He sighs.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑

The announcement is nothing special. A local journalist is relaying information about the campaign's success. Your city has been replanting as many trees as possible. And yet, the Internet pays attention to a singular thing — a person walking their cat on a leash.

“As you can see, all the trees prepared, how now’ve been planted—“ The news reporter says, a smile gracing their face.

In all honesty, Wanderer is not even watching. With a book in hand, he’s only playing the television in the background due to his music app not working. “—Oh, what a cute kitty! We have the first visitor, everyone.” He can hear.

Oh, right. A cat. Wanderer was supposed to feed the cat, wasn’t he? He can already here your upset ramblings the second you come back. But shouldn’t Kabuki be meowing? Wanderer gets up to search for the cat, when something on the TV catches his attention.

It’s Kabuki. The cat being cooed at is his cat. Your cat. On a walk. On a leash.

“Of, fucking, course.” He murmurs. Of course if somebody’s walking a cat it’s you. His bloody idiot.

𝐈𝐅𝐀

The concert is electric. You finally get your chance at an event you have waited to attend for multiple years, with every news station reporting on it. As the artist shares some personal comments about “gaining weight”, there’s only one voice heard. Yours.

“WHAT WEIGHT?!” Your voice overwhelms the entire world — the stage, the television, the internet. Everyone is paying attention to the one person who would not let the artist feel bad about their appearance.

Ifa’s not with you when he hears the comment. He’s currently stuck in his veterinary clinic, filling out paperwork with the news playing on his laptop. The second he hears it, a mixture of emotions brews inside him.

He’s so proud. And embarrassed. Mostly proud, though. It takes courage to state the obvious, when the room is silent.

Ifa will be sure to acknowledge your act of bravery the second he sees you back. Whatever that time is.

date of posting — july 2nd 2025

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pascaloverx · 1 year ago

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DANDELIONS

Summary: You are the new guest of the Bridgertons. Your mother, an old friend of Lady Violet Bridgerton, has requested that you spend a season at the Bridgerton house in hopes that you will change your perspective on true love and marriage. You are convinced that love is a fictional construct and that a marriage without love will be your downfall; but some time with the Bridgerton siblings might change your mind.

Author's Note: The characters belong to the Bridgerton universe and Julia Quinn. However, the story will have some changes from what happens in the Bridgerton series (2020-). Dear readers, this story may contain strong language and steamy romance scenes. It may even feature a love triangle. Be warned and enjoy the reading.

AO3 LINK TWO

ONE

"A great idea," you grumbled the entire way from your house to the Bridgerton house. Your mother had told you it would be an excellent idea for you to venture into society. "An independent mission," she said. Your father is so ill and trapped in his own world that he didn't mind letting his only daughter go to a stranger's house. Your mother has given up on arranging a conventional marriage for you. She doesn't respect the fact that you don't want a marriage like hers. You wonder if it's so wrong to want a marriage filled with tenderness, passion, love, or any feeling other than indifference. You basically grew up knowing you were the product of an obligation. The only child your parents managed to conceive before your father became too ill to have more children. Or rather, before your mother gave up trying to love him. When you were born, at least she had shed the moral burden of having to provide your father with an heir. Obviously, both she and he had hoped you would be a boy. But you think that over the years they have grown accustomed to you. This year, for some reason, your mother wants you to get married. Perhaps it's because your father is on the brink of death. If you find a husband who can manage your father's properties and investments, maybe you will become something useful to your family. Your father only mutters about wanting a male grandchild to carry on his legacy, and your mother wants you married. After Lady Violet Bridgerton successfully married off her daughter Daphne, your mother began to think that perhaps she could help you. So, after exchanging a few letters, you are now on your way to the Bridgerton house to be introduced to society's marriage system.

"I need to step out of this carriage for a moment," you say as you stop murmuring your mother's words. Your companion gives you a look that says, "She's lost her mind," but you know she will eventually let you get out of the carriage.

"Actually, we are already in front of the Bridgerton house entrance. I must remind you that your mother recommended I stay by your side most of the time," Mrs. Lydia says, as if you didn't know that, as your companion, she is supposed to always be nearby.

"I know your job is to protect my honor, but believe me, if I enter the Bridgerton house in my current mood, they will expel me before midnight. I need a moment to think," you say, nervously adjusting the hem of your dress. Your companion gently nods as if she understands. Lydia is the closest thing to true family that you have. So it's no surprise that she understands you.

"Enter the house for a moment and be polite. There's a stable on the Bridgerton property; I'll see what I can do. Ask Lady Bridgerton or the Viscount Bridgerton if you can go for a ride. And try not to get into trouble. I'll pretend to accompany you but give you some time alone," Lydia says, and you hug her tightly. A good horse ride after meeting the Bridgertons is just what you need. Not that you know much about them. You can only imagine. They are several siblings, and you are an only child. It's not hard to imagine there will be some incompatibilities. Minutes later, you step out of the carriage with Lydia, observing several people standing around you two.

"Dear Miss Y/L/N, it's a pleasure to welcome you here. I must confess that when your mother informed me of your arrival, we all looked forward to it," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she approaches you. She seems so friendly that you feel inclined to hug her.

"I would like to thank you, Lady Bridgerton, and your lovely family for your hospitality. Unfortunately, my mother couldn't come with me, but my companion Lydia is here," you say awkwardly. The truth is, you're feeling that this season at Aubrey Hall with all the Bridgertons might be more challenging than you imagine.

"Let's not waste time exchanging pleasantries and let's go inside so you can see your quarters. I believe it will be the perfect time for you to get to know my children better," she says as she guides you into the house. The place is spectacular. As soon as you enter, you see some people approaching.

"Miss Y/L/N, I must warn you that this family can be a bit lively, but we will try our best to welcome you with courtesy," says a girl who must be a little younger than you. She has a book in her hands and is the first to approach you as you enter.

"Eloise, don't scare off our guest. Welcome to our abode, Miss Y/L/N. My name is Colin Bridgerton, and if you need someone to talk to, I'll be available. But I know that after a journey, the best thing is a good night's rest," Colin says to you, who smiles, finding it amusing how many Bridgertons are showing up.

"I believe I should thank Miss Eloise for the warning and Mr. Bridgerton for his kindness. Although I believe I still have a long way to go until my restful moment," you say, looking at the two who seem pleased with your gratitude.

"Your dress is beautiful, Miss Y/L/N. By the way, unlike my older brothers, I know how to introduce myself. My name is Hyacinth Bridgerton." A girl who seemed not to be at the entrance of the house just moments ago suddenly appears, saying this as she walks quickly toward you.

"You're mistaking knowing how to introduce yourself with flattery, Hyacinth. I'm Gregory Bridgerton, but you can call me Gregory," says a young boy who appears to be almost the same age as Hyacinth, while the girl taps him on the shoulder. You find it cute and funny how they behave. Having siblings seems to be at least entertaining.

"The younger ones are so noisy. I wish you a pleasant stay with us, Miss Y/L/N. You'll need it. If you need some peace, just look for me. My name is Francesca," a young woman says kindly as she moves away from the confusion that this introduction session is becoming.

"Now that Miss Y/L/N has met most of the Bridgertons who reside in this house, how about having some tea in the garden of the property?" Lady Violet speaks gently, touching your arm. You nod in agreement.

"I would just like to go to the quarters where I will be staying for a change of clothing. I hope you understand, Lady Violet." You were already starting to feel pain in your back from the corset that was too tight on you.

"My dear, you can call me Violet, and you may go. I'll ask them to take you to the room where you'll be staying, and your companion will join you shortly to assist. Once you're done, I'll be in the garden waiting for you." Lady Bridgerton speaks, and you follow the servant she assigns to show you where you'll be staying. Knowing that Lydia will be with you shortly, as soon as you enter the room, you lock the door.

"What are you doing here, Miss?" A male voice speaks as soon as you lock the door, and you startle as you turn around to find a man, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, staring at you.

"I'm almost certain that I should be the one saying that, sir. I must warn you that if I were to scream, you'd be in trouble," you say, composing yourself as you observe the man looking at you curiously. Perhaps he knows that you wouldn't scream because it would ruin your reputation, or maybe he is part of the Bridgerton family, considering your mother warned you that there were three older adult brothers.

"Do you really want my family to know that I'm inappropriately dressed near you? Let me guess, you're desperate for a marriage and want to make your life easier by tying me to you?" The man speaks as he straightens up, buttoning the rest of his shirt.

"How dare you accuse me of such a strategy, considering that it is you who is in the quarters assigned to me, improperly dressed, and with an attitude worthy of pity. Honestly, my last thought at the moment would be to force a scandal so that you would have to become my husband," you reply, holding yourself near the door, keeping yourself away from whoever this Mr. Bridgerton is in front of you.

"Forgive me, Miss, but I don't trust a word coming out of your mouth at the moment. However, I assure you that this type of situation is not customary. I was trying to enter through the window of my room or one of my brothers' rooms, but I ended up in here. I had no idea that you would be arriving today. In fact, I'm being rude at this moment. I am Viscount Anthony Bridgerton," he says, approaching you cautiously as if analyzing you. Perhaps he is trying to figure out if you are an opportunist or not.

"Without intending to be rude, but already being so, whether you are a Viscount, Prince, or Duke, I don't care. What matters now is that no one finds out that we are alone here," you say, looking him squarely in the eyes, as if to firmly convey that you absolutely do not want them to be discovered.

"If you can draw the attention of the people in the house to yourself for a couple of minutes, I can leave the way I came in. Do you think that would be possible?" Anthony says with a certain petulance. However, a bold idea occurs to you. You give him a determined look and then step closer to him, bringing you both very near to each other.

"I'll simulate a small fall down the stairs. You'll have the time it takes for me to miraculously recover. Be efficient, Viscount Bridgerton," you say briefly and storm out of the room, aware that spending more time in the Viscount's presence would be a real test of your self-control. The room was starting to feel quite warm.

You descend the stairs, doing your best to appear slightly unsteady. You kick the last step with all your strength before reaching the bottom of the stairs and let out a loud groan of pain, loud enough to be heard from afar. You even manage to tear up a bit, waiting for everyone to come and check on you. Just as you are lightly sprawled on the floor, a man walks through the door. You don't remember being introduced to him before, but he is certainly a Bridgerton. He sees you and immediately rushes towards you.

"Miss, are you alright? Can I help you up?" The man asks with a concerned and caring expression. Knowing that Anthony needs more time, you let out a cry of complaint as if in fake pain when the Bridgerton in front of you tries to help you up. At that moment, you start to be surrounded by several people.

"Oh, I think I twisted my ankle, but there's no need to worry. I just need a moment," you say, uncertain if you can keep up the pretense much longer.

"My dear, don't strain yourself. Benedict will help you to a room where we can call for Dr. Lewis to examine you," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she lightly touches the arm of who you presume to be Benedict.

"May I?" Benedict asks seconds before you nod your head in agreement. But to be honest, you're not even sure what you're agreeing to. Until Benedict lifts you, asking you to put your arms around his neck. You hold on tight to him, somewhat afraid he might drop you.

"Mr. Bridgerton, you are very kind. I believe you didn't need to lift me. But I am grateful for your help," you say as you are leaned close to Benedict's chest, which you now notice is slightly exposed. What's with the Bridgertons today that everyone is showing more than they should?

"I must admit, before my family enters here, that it was amusing to take part in your charade. It was quite artistic of you. I hope you'll call on me if you want to star in another theatrical piece to get my brother out of trouble. Have a good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N," he says all this as he gently releases you onto a sofa. He doesn't seem angry or anything like that; genuinely, he seems to be enjoying himself. As soon as he leaves the room where he left you, the rest of the Bridgerton family and some servants surround you. Now you'll have to pretend to be in pain for a little while longer while you're intrigued not only by one but by two Bridgerton brothers.

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a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 5 months ago

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Dandelions

Sequel to Part 4: Red to Entice You

Here we go.

All fluff, a bit of sadness over an inability to conceive. Mated Eris and Reader. Angst. Happiness. Release. Life.

Word Count: 3,478

Summary: After years of wishing on dandelions and stars, it may all be time to come true.

A few days slipped by, then a week, and soon two weeks had passed. Yet, none of the familiar symptoms of your cycle appeared—not the sharp, shooting pain that usually radiated down your back, nor the pounding migraines that typically left you curled up in bed, alternating between the comforting warmth of heat packs and the numbing relief of ice packs. Your body was unusually quiet, a serene silence that both intrigued and unnerved you. You dared not let your hopes soar too high. But how could you resist the rising tide of optimism? Every sign seemed to align perfectly, pointing towards the realization of everything you had longed for with eager anticipation.

Your mate, who was also bracing for the onslaught of sharp remarks and noticeable shift in your demeanor that marked your annual cycle, seemed to be walking on eggshells. He gave you a much wider berth and ensured you lived in a comfortable bubble. He was more than willing to offer you his helping of desserts and while you commandeered all the blankets, cocooning yourself on one side of the bed, he didn’t utter a single complaint. Over the years spent with each other, he had learned the delicate art of patience, understanding that before your cycle, it was wise to extend a little more grace, for both your sake and his own. Yet, when the cycle didn’t arrive, a subtle, shared optimism began to bloom. Without speaking it aloud, each morning as you awoke to find nothing had changed, your eyes would meet with a mild twinkle.

Although you hadn’t thought it possible, Eris’s attentiveness intensified. Each waking moment he could spare was spent by your side, his hands seeking yours. His fingers would interlock, tenderly tracing gentle circles over the soft skin, as if memorizing the texture. He began retiring to bed earlier with you. One hand would rest lightly on your stomach, while the other wove through your hair, lulling you to sleep. His connection to you seemed to deepen with each passing day. His kisses stretched on, their sweetness lingering long after his lips had left yours. His embraces were warmer, enveloping you in a cocoon of affection and warmth that felt like home.

It wasn’t until you reached the third week of nothing happening that you finally decided it was time to see a healer. Whether it was what you hoped for or not, your cycle being this late was definitely unusual. You chose not to tell Eris, though you weren’t quite sure why. Throughout this long and difficult process, you regularly attended appointments with healers, and initially, he had accompanied you to get the same information. But as two years passed, you assured him that anything you learned, he would also know. He had initially protested, arguing he didn’t want you to go through this alone, but with some gentle reassurance, he eventually accepted it. However, this time, you hadn’t even mentioned to him that you had made an appointment in the first place.

Maybe it was a protective instinct that made you hesitant to tell him. If he knew you were going to the healer and was aware that your cycle was irregular, he might get his hopes up, only for you to crush them again. You thought that you could deliver the news more gently, if it turned out to be what neither of you wanted. And perhaps, a bit selfishly, you wanted the time to grieve alone if necessary.

As you sat in the healer’s chamber, your hand resting on your lower abdomen, it seemed you had already accepted the likelihood that you weren’t pregnant. Surely, you would have known if you were. You would have felt some unmistakable sign, some clear symptom that announced to both you and the world that you had succeeded. But there was nothing—other than the absence of your cycle.

The heavy wooden door groaned on its hinges as it slowly swung open, revealing the familiar and comforting face of Iren. She had been your steadfast companion, steadfast beacon and primary healer since the inception of this journey. She had been your guide, offering counsel on strategies to increase your chances, meticulously mapping your fertility cycle, and providing a careful mixture of herbal tonics and carefully administered injections to boost your hormones. In moments of despair, when you felt utterly broken, tormented by the weight of it all, and completely drained, she had also been your solace, holding you close as you were consumed in sobs.

Her silver hair cascaded gently around her face, framing it like a soft halo, while her rose-tinted lips curved into a gentle, reassuring smile. She remained silent as she extended a hand towards you. Her hand, wrinkled with time, was warm and inviting as you stood and took it.

She guided you back into her chambers as you settled back on the examination table, legs swinging slightly over the edge. Iren pulled her stool closer to you. “How’s it going?” she asked warmly.

You sighed, offering a small smile as you shrugged. “Well, I think—I hope.”

Iren seemed to be examining your face, not immediately jumping to the next question. “And how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” you replied, a hint of hesitation in your voice. “Same as always, I guess.”

“I wasn’t just talking about your physical health,” Iren replied, her hand resting gently on your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You swallowed hard, emotions bubbling up as they always did when you were with her. Being alone with Iren always changed something inside you, dissolving your defenses and making it hard to keep anything hidden. But her presence, something innately about her, made you feel safe enough to let go. “I’m tired,” you admitted, nodding slightly as though trying to convince yourself.

“Tired how?” she asked.

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you nervously picked at a hangnail on your thumb. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just feeling a little tired of it all.”

“What is ‘it’?” the healer gently inquired.

Your kept your eyes intently focused on your fingers, watching as the small piece of skin peeled away, leaving behind nothing but a sharp, stinging sensation. “Feeling like I’m failing,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you paused to gather your scattered thoughts. “Or like I’m letting everyone down.”

Iren leaned back slightly, her posture relaxed yet attentive. When you dared to glance up at her, you were met with the same reassuring smile, soft and gentle, her eyes blinking slowly. “I know,” she replied, her voice no louder than your own. “This is an immense amount of pressure. It’s a daunting task for couples who aren’t rulers of an entire court, and even more so for you and your mate. I’m honestly impressed that you’ve managed to continue wanting to try for as long as you have.”

You furrowed your brow, a crease forming between your eyes. “Well, what else is there to do?” You shrugged, feeling the weight of the inevitability. “It’s not like I can just decide not to.”

Iren cocked her head slightly in argument. “That’s true. But let me clarify—I’m surprised that you are still concentrating on this as much as you are.”

A light snort escaped you, a sound half amusement, half exasperation, as you ran your hands through your hair, feeling the strands slip between your fingers. “It’s sort of the only purpose I have for this court.”

“Nonsense,” Iren replied firmly. “Your role is far larger than your ability to produce offspring. You’re not a cow.”

Your brow arched skeptically, a silent challenge in your eyes. In essence you felt not much more than livestock, bred to perpetuate what had always been. “Iren, with all due respect, you and I both know the consequences of failure,” you said, a note of bitterness edging your voice.

“And who decides when you have failed?” Iren challenged.

You met her gaze, searching for an answer. Iren held your stare, unwavering, as if willing you to find the words.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice gentle yet firm. “Because as far as I know, and I have overseen the birth of many babes, the only one who decides on failure is the being capable of carrying the babe themselves. There is no failure. There is only time.” She leaned closer, her hand finding it’s place on your knee again. “There’s nothing wrong with you, my dear. It just takes time.”

A lump formed in your throat, your eyes brimming with tears that shimmered as they edged over. “Then why can’t I just do this?” you choked out.

Iren’s lips pressed into a thin line as she offered another smile. “You can do this.”

“I’m starting to believe that I can’t,” you retorted, your voice breaking as the tears streamed down your cheeks. “I’ve done everything, tried everything. I mean, for gods’ sake, I’ve even been drinking that disgusting fertility tea you’ve given me for months and nothing.” You shook your head, frustration mingling with despair, as you wiped the tears away with your sleeve. “It’s just impossible.”

“I know,” Iren noted. “I know how desperately you want this, and I know that you would go to great lengths to achieve it. But there’s nothing any of us can do but wait.”

“I’m tired of waiting,” you replied. “I’m so angry, all the time. I’m exhausted, all the time. Every day, I wake up and the first thing that floods my mind is this. When I go to sleep, my last thought is this. Even in my dreams, it’s only this.”

“It’s consuming you,” Iren reflected softly.

You shook your head, the urge to respond caught in your throat like a stubborn limp, rendering your silent.

Iren watched patiently, her eyes searching your face for a sign of steadiness, but when your shoulders sagged and your face crumpled into your hands, she spoke again. “I have found that when someone desires something so intensely, the universe takes perverse pleasure in withholding it. And then they finally give up, or let go, that’s when it happens naturally.”

You remained cocooned in the sanctuary of your hands. “How can I just give it up?” you murmured, your voice muffled and strained.

“I’m not saying you should,” Iren offered, “But I’m advising you that pouring all your energy into it might actually be making it more challenging.”

She paused, her eyes fixed on you, waiting for a reply that still didn’t come. With a sigh, she leaned back, her hand slipping away from your knee, leaving a lingering warmth behind. “So why did you come today?” she asked softly. “Did you just need someone to give you some support, or is there something specific troubling you?”

It was as if you had forgotten the very reason for your visit, in fact, it felt like she had already delivered more disappointing news. You glanced up at her, swallowing hard, your hand brushing away the tears that matted your hair to your face. “I haven’t gotten my cycle yet,” you admitted.

Iren’s brow arched delicately in response. “Oh?” she murmured, a note of curiosity.

You shook your head, a shover running through you as you sniffled. “I’m two weeks late.”

In her eyes, you detected a flicker of excitement, a spark of hope she struggled to keep restrained. Wonderful, you thought bitterly��just someone else to disappoint.

“Best to check you over then,” she suggested, rising from her stool.

You shuffled back onto the familiar examination table, fingers deftly working down the front set of corset strings. Cool air rushed over your skin as the corset loosened, its sides falling open with a soft rustle. You eased the upper part of your gown down, revealing your bare torso to the room’s chill. Iren stepped forward, a reassuring smile playing on her lips. Her hands hovered above your abdomen, fingers trembling slightly. You had wondered whether it was part of her technique or a sign of her advancing age. Despite your musings, you closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, allowing your head to sink into the pillow below.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, minutes blending into seconds or vice versa; you couldn’t quite tell. The warmth of her hands met your stomach, a gentle yet firm pressure sinking into the soft flesh. You winced slightly as her fingers pinched and probed with practiced precision. She murmured softly, a sound barely audible, and you opened your eyes to see Iren’s face, brows knitted together in intense concentration. Her lips moved subtly, as if she were speaking to herself, yet no words escaped. Finally, she opened her eyes, revealing nothing in her expression.

“Sit up for me,” she instructed with a slight motion, and you complied. Her hands shifted, one settling firmly on your lower back, the other pressing deliberately into your abdomen. Silence enveloped the room once more as she continued her examination.

The urge to question her, to demand why she was taking so long, bubbled up inside you. Your heart, stupidly, fluttered in excitement, yet the worry etched into her face sent your stomach plummeting to your feet. Iren pressed and prodded with care, then moved around to face you directly.

“I need to examine your breasts as well,” she stated, and you nodded in agreement. Her hands moved over your skin, methodical and thorough, before returning to your abdomen, once again feeling the area as if to confirm your suspicions.

When she finally opened her eyes, they were lined with tears.

Immediately, yours widened in concern. “What is it?” you demanded, voice breaking. “What’s wrong?”

Iren broke into a radiant smile, and then a light, joyous chuckle escaped her lips. “Congratulations are in order, my lady.”

You froze, your face stuck in shock and disbelief. You were certain you hadn’t heard her correctly; there must have been some mistake. “What?”

Iren laughed again as she wiped away her own tears. “Ugh,” she mused, her voice filled with fondness. “I always cry at this part.”

You still sat there, exposed from neck to hips as you pulled your gown back up. “Iren, what? What are you talking about?”

“You’re pregnant,” she finally announced, the words tumbling out with such overwhelming joy that it seemed almost palpable.

“Wha—” you stammered, unable to find the joy that resonated within her. “You—you’re serious?”

Iren threw her head back and laughed as it rang out with sincerity. “It would be cruel of me to joke about this. I’m certain of it.”

You swallowed hard, your gaze shooting immediately down to your abdomen, searching desperately for some tiny sign, but there was nothing visible.

“You’re sure?” you asked, your eyes widening as your heart finally seemed to release its grip.

“I’m positive,” the healer replied, enveloping your hands in hers. “A steady, healthy heartbeat.”

You let out a shaky sigh, and then your smile spread slowly across your face, tears returning to your eyes as you alternated your gaze between your womb and Iren. “I’m pregnant,” you finally whispered, the realization blossoming in your.

“You’re pregnant,” Iren echoed in gentle affirmation.

Initially, Iren had graciously offered to accompany you in breaking the news to your mate. You had a sneaking suspicion that her offer stemmed from a desire to witness the look of utter disbelief that would surely spread across his face. However, you assured her this was a moment you wanted to handle on your own. Perhaps over a candlelit dinner, or some grand unforgettable gesture.

Yet, as you exited her chambers, the bubbling excitement within you propelled your steps beyond the manor’s grand halls and into the serenity of the gardens outside. There, amidst the blooms and hedges, Eris was engaged in attending to a group of nobles. They were seated around the garden tables, engrossed in deep conversation,

You sent a slight tug down the bond that immediately captured Eris’s attention. His head snapped around towards you, his typically stoic expression melting into a broad smile before shifting to one of mild concern.

You returned his gaze with a tight smile, struggling to contain the bubbling urge to leap with joy.

Eris turned back to the cluster of nobles, murmuring a polite excuse as he rose from the wrought iron table. With purposeful strides, he crossed the courtyard to reach you. His brow furrowed with concern, as he asked in a hushed yet urgent tone, “Are you alright? What’s happened?”

You shook your head, your voice a tangle of apologies. “No, no—I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have interrupted you,” you replied, your words tumbling out.

Eris studied you intently, his eyes sweeping over you as though searching for injury or taking stock. “My love, your heart is racing. What’s happened?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, silently cursing your body for betraying you again. “Do you have a minute?” you asked, your gaze flickering over Eris’s shoulder to where the nobles reclined in their silks, some casting curious glances your way.

Eris’s expression softened. “For you? An hour,” he replied.

You smiled warmly and gently grasped his hand, guiding him away.

Together, you passed through the edge of the gardens, where tall imposing hedges loomed like guardians, until you found yourselves standing in the expansive meadow just beyond the estate’s grounds. Eris walked beside you quietly even while concern radiated from him, giving you space to mull over the myriad of ways to tell him.

Turning back to him, you nervously bit your lower lip, the anticipation building like a storm inside you. The fluttering butterflies in your stomach threatening to take flight with your words.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice careful and gentle.

You glanced around, your gaze settling on the ground where a lone dandelion stood, its puffed, white seeds waiting on the wind.

Gathering your skirts, you leaned down and plucked it from the earth, returning to Eris with determination. “Make a wish,” you instructed.

Eris’s brows knitted in confusion. “Wha—”

You interrupted him before he could finish. “Just do it,” you encouraged, “close your eyes and make a wish.”

A flicker of hesitation crossed his features, but then he closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, sending the delicate white seedling spiraling into the breeze. As he reopened his eyes, the same concern lingered in his gaze.

“What did you wish for?” you asked.

“My love, what is this about?” He replied, ignoring your question.

You shook your head with a light-hearted laugh, bending down to pick another dandelion and held it back up between you. “What do you think I would wish for?”

He cocked a brow, initial concern fading as he took in your expression. A smirk danced across his lips, and he crossed his arms with an air of playful arrogance. “Well, you already have me,” he replied, teasing.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Come on, be serious,” you insisted, though the entire presentation was anything but.

Eris paused, licking his lips as hesitation flickered across his features. “You would wish for a child,” he said, his voice softer.

Your heart skipped a beat, nearly giving away the secret. Yet you managed to hold it back, a tender smile gracing your face. “You’re right,” you nodded. Gently, you handed the dandelion to Eris, who began to twirl it within his fingers, his gaze never leaving yours.

“But I don’t have to wish for that anymore,” you added, your voice lilting.

Eris froze, the dandelion halting. His eyes widened in a mix of surprise and shock. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice filled with hopeful urgency.

Your smile broadened, a light, joyous laugh bubbling from your lips as you placed your hands tenderly on your abdomen. “Iren just confirmed it,” you beamed.

Eris’s mouth fell open in astonishment, his eyes darting to your stomach. Before you could register his reaction, he swept you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. A laugh, the purest and happiest you had ever heard, erupted from him. One arm supported your lower back while the other pressed your face against his shoulder, laughter vibrating through his chest an into yours. He showered your temples with kisses, over and over as he let out sobs of happiness.

Finally, he settled you onto your feet, hands bracing your face as he gazed down at you, his eyes glassy with tears, thumbs tracing down your cheeks. “I love you, so, so much.” He whispered. Before you could reply, he bent down and kissed you, deeply, passionately, and with such adoration it almost had you swooning. He held you in that kiss, one hand coming down to your stomach where his thumb mirrored the reassuring strokes to your cheek. Life, future, happiness.

****Peep me kicking my feet****

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eunandonly · 9 months ago

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⟡ ⸻ dandelion

riki x fem. reader | friendship and love blossoms between you and riki in the seemingly dull hospital ward

genre. friends to lovers, fluff, ANGST | warnings: angst, mention of illness, major character death, heavy topics, set in a hospital, incorrect medical terms | wc. 2k EN-

you and riki first met on the hospital rooftop.

it had been one of the rare days the doctors allowed you to go up there, deeming the fresh air as “good for you”. it had been such a nice warm night, the perfect weather for you to stare at the flickering lights of the city and passing cars. you found it interesting, perhaps a little bit sad even, to know that you seemed to be the only one stuck in time and unable to move forward with your life. the world went on and left you behind, the gap between you and the others only growing larger and larger. the dreams you had once had were now out of reach.

because you had just six months left to live, and six months wasn’t at all a long time once you thought about it.

and so you had been standing at the rooftop, lost in your own thoughts when riki joined you. you hadn’t seen him before; he was new to the hospital and freshly admitted. you two hadn’t exchanged much words at first, letting the silence speak for itself. just the presence of riki was comforting to you. someone your age that was also stuck in the endless loop of hospital medications and consultations. someone stuck in time just like you as they watched the world leave them behind.

the first words spoken to each other were casual and light. a simple, “why are you also in this hellhole of a place?” and “what’s your opinion on doctor yun?”. the nurses moved you into the same ward the moment they saw you conversing. they found your unexpected friendship sweet, and some of them even gushed about young love.

***

“do you ever feel scared?”

the question escapes your lips before you know it as you’re strolling around the garden. it’s a question that’s always been lingering deep inside you, simmering just below the surface. you try not to bring these things up when you’re with riki, choosing lighter and easier topics to talk about. laughter can always be heard when you two are together even though the circumstances are dire and seemingly hopeless. you are both slowly and surely dying, succumbing to your illness despite the days and months and years spent telling yourselves that everything would be fine and that a miracle would happen.

but it never works out like that, does it? once the doctor gives you a set time that you have left, that number is the only thing you can see when you close your eyes. the clock is ticking and it has no kindness or mercy to people like you and riki.

“scared?” riki asks, giving you a glance. “i don’t think i’m really all that afraid to be honest.”

“how?” you breathe, tilting your head up look him in the eye. you look for a sliver of fear or doubt in his eyes but find none.

“there’s nothing much to be scared about. it’s true, the time we have left is seemingly cold and mean, but we shouldn’t waste our precious time on such a negative feeling.”

you turn his answer over and over in your head, wondering just when you’ll stop being haunted by the thought of death being just around the corner.

***

it’s been over three months since you and riki met on the rooftop, and there’s no denying that there’s a subtle change in the air between you two. you wonder if he’s noticed as well . you definitely have. you would say something about it if you weren’t so scared- gosh why were you scared of everything? you were afraid of things changing between you and the thought of that alone made you feel a pang of loneliness.

it’s the little stuff: the way your eyes meet across the room when doctor yun goes into one of his lectures about the importance of staying still when you’re connected to an iv drip as you both try to stiffle your laughter. the concern that clouds his eyes on unrestful nights when you’re tossing and turning from the pain of it all. the endless patience he has for you.

it makes your heart skip a beat. a palpitation, that’s what doctor yun would probably say.

***

“riki, i told you i was going to win,” you say triumphantly as you put down your last uno card. “i’m way too good at this.”

you give riki a big smile and pick the card back up again to wave it in front of his face just to rub it in. you would do a little celebratory dance if it weren’t for the multiple tubes connected to you and strict orders from the nurse not to move too much.

“it was just this once.” riki says, rolling his eyes playfully. he looks at you with so much tenderness and endearment that you’re convinced for just a second that he likes you back.

his look alone makes a flush creep up your too-pale cheeks, and you have to turn your head away to hide your flustered face.

he’s so pretty when he smiles.

when you look back at him, it’s just too much. you reach out to sweep the hair out of his face, your fingers running through the soft strands before you drop your arm to your side.

“sorry.” you mumble, your face hot.

riki just grins, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “it’s okay, i don’t mind.”

as you stare at his face, you’re left with a sudden pang in your chest that leaves you breathless.

you love him so much. six months with him isn’t enough.

‘y/n,” riki says, touching your arm gently. “you okay?”

you smile, hoping it looks reassuring when it just hurts your face. “yeah, i’m okay.”

you take a moment to look out the window of the room, dozens of thoughts crossing your mind. there’s something precious about this moment, something so very special. you’re scared to let it slip through your fingers and disappear.

“riki,” you hum, eyes traveling to the heart monitor that’s mounted on the wall next to your bed. “what will i do without you.”

you can’t bear to think about riki leaving you behind just like everyone, and you can’t bear to think about leaving riki behind either. though it’s never been talked about, it feels like you two made a promise to stay by each other’s side no matter what.

“y/n, don’t go there right now, please.” riki says quietly, reaching out to hold your hand in his.

you take your gaze off the monitor and meet his eyes. “sorry. i won’t.”

riki eases back to rest his back, his fingers still intertwined with his. before you can say anything else, he gives you a fleeting peck on the cheek.

“I love you.”

you feel a tug in your heartstrings as you curl into his side and close your eyes.

“i love you too.”

***

you try to savour each and every day with riki as if it’s the last. some days you watch a film together in the ward or listen to music together. other days when the doctors allow you, you go up to the rooftop together and watch the constant motion of the city below. sometimes it’s just you and him curled up together and finding comfort in each other’s presence. though it’s all inside the premises of the hospital, riki still tells you that it’s a date.

strolls in the garden are rare but very much looked forward to, holding hands as you make a slow circle around the hospital building. everything you do with riki is precious and priceless. it’s at these moments you’re truly convinced that perhaps it is possible to stop time, pause the ticking clock during sweet conversations.

riki stops in the middle of the garden, bending down to pick something from the grass.

a dandelion.

“look,” he says, handing it to you by the stem. “this one hasn’t quite matured yet. it’s half yellow and half white.”

“it’s an in-between dandelion.” you comment, observing it carefully.

riki smiles. “yeah, an in-between dandelion.”

he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.

“can i blow on the seeds?” you ask in his embrace, looking at the dandelion you’re clutching in your hand.

“go ahead.”

you give it a gentle blow, and both you and riki watch the seeds fly away in the warm breeze, traveling further and further away to who knows where.

you’re convinced that you can’t be any happier than you are now.

but nothing ever lasts.

***

you’re jolted awake from the commotion around you, and you shoot up from your bed.

there’s an overwhelming amount of doctors and nurses in the room, all shouting as they crowd around riki’s bed.

“COME ON, HIS BP IS DROPPING, GET A MOVE ON IT!”

panic starts to set in. you’ve been in the hospital long enough to know that when there’s screaming of doctors and chaos in the ward as they yell about a dropping bp, nothing good is going on.

you scramble out of bed, not caring about the tubes that cling to you. all that matters now is riki and the doctors. you rush towards riki’s bed, trying to see what’s going on.

“where’s riki? what’s wrong with him?” you ask, your breaths coming out short and quick. an alarm sounds in the room and the beeping of machines intensifies.

“HIS VITALS ARE DROPPING BRING ME THE-”

you can’t hear anymore, you can’t even see anymore. your vision’s turned cloudy as you try your best to see what’s going on. you know not to push through the doctors. they know what they’re doing. they know. they’ll make riki okay again.

they have to make him okay.

you’re acutely aware of yourself trembling as you listen to all the chaos. your hands are clasped together, praying for god to please save your best friend, the boy you love.

you don’t have anyone else.

“please, please, please,” you whisper feverishly, almost like a mantra. your hands are shaking and your head is pounding. and than suddenly there’s a nurse by your side holding your hands as she kneels on the floor in front of you.

you don’t pay attention to what she’s saying, endless pleadings escape your mouth as the room fills with loud beeping that makes you clench your eyes shut.

until it all

just

stops.

the doctors who had been in action just moments ago all still. the only sound being the never stopping beep of the machine that signals a straight line on the monitor.

and than everything is just falling

and falling

and falling.

***

it’s a month since everything happened now.

a month since he left, a month since he let go.

you’re standing in front of his memorial, holding a thick book to your chest as you stare at his name that’s been carved into the plaque.

“gosh riki, i miss you so much,” you whisper as you blink away the tears that are threatening to spill. riki wouldn’t want you to cry. he wouldn’t. “you don’t understand how much i miss you. i was selfish, i couldn’t let doctor yun announce-“

you take a deep breath. “i couldn’t let the doctor yun announce the time of death because i couldn’t let you go. i was determined to keep you by my side.”

you let out a little laugh, trying to smile despite the numbness of it all.

“but riki, i can feel it approaching,” you say as you open the book you’re cradling against your chest. “i think it won’t be long until i join you.”

you pluck out a dry pressed dandelion from the pages of the book. it’s the one riki gave you in the garden, the in-between one that you blew on. you place it on top of his plaque, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips.

“i’ll see you up there soon, and we’ll do everything we want together. just wait a little longer.”

“i love you.”

a/n: this one was a little more heavy compared to other works i’ve written. i hope you guys still enjoyed, please feel free to leave me any feedbacks!! i’m not sure if i’m satisfied about this fic, so i’m really sorry if it was kinda shit

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sixosix · 2 years ago

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summary your attention is elsewhere and scara gets sad. not that he would admit it, though.

or, scara shows his true colors when he’s missing you.

warning 1k words, profanity, calling wanderer ‘kunikuzushi’, you and him are in mondstadt!! clingy and pathetic scara… fluff!

what else could i talk about? you gaze at the empty sheet while your thoughts are running miles and miles ahead. you’ve been clutching your head pitifully for far too long that lisa is starting to send worried glances.

this one is no good either. you crumple and toss it to the growing pile on the edge of the table.

maybe another metaphor. about the sky and the wind? he would love that. maybe something else that would rhyme with love. would venti appeal to your poem even more if you talk about wine? he would.

the slender shape of the wine glass, the alluring shade of dandelion wine, its sweet aroma—it would be your worst work out of all the ones venti discarded, but perhaps he wouldn’t be able to refuse this one. kaeya would applaud if he were to hear this right now.

ink stains the sides of your palms. you heave a sigh, fingers getting to work on the dreaded worship poem about venti’s favorite wine. what else could you make out of this? you’re getting desperate. you just need to finish this last poem, and you will be freed from venti’s insistent clutches and your own stubbornness to see this to the end.

“boo.”

a hand slaps over your mouth before you can disturb anyone else in the library.

your first instinct is to tear this person’s limb off; however, the gloves, along with the unnaturally smooth and fair skin is distinctively familiar. you bat the arm away and face him; wanderer’s hand lowers to your hips instead.

“asshole!” you hiss with a frightening scowl. wanderer’s grin widens as if you’re the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. “i told you to fuck off elsewhere while i finish this—why are you back so early?”

“it’s boring,” he says.

“weren’t you the one to suggest we explore mondstadt?” your jolt earlier caused a huge streak of ink to run across the page, entirely ruining your wine-revering poem.

“i said ‘we’, didn’t i? you, me, together. you kicked me out and left me to explore by myself.”

“you’re the wanderer. isn’t that your whole thing?” sighing helplessly at his unimpressed stare, you crumple the poem and throw it to his face. he doesn’t flinch nor blink, letting it slide off his face and land on the floor. “besides, it’s only been, like, five minutes.”

“just leave his stupid class,” wanderer hisses, glaring with disdain at your small pile of other failed poems.

“no, venti is so nice to me. unlike you.”

he rolls his eyes, plucking the quill pen from your grasp. you frown, reaching out to take it back, but he continues to pull it away, drawing your faces closer together. “ditch it and come with me,” he says.

“no. i said i’m joining and i will finish it.”

“stubborn shit,” wanderer groans, ignoring your quick ‘learned from the best’. “why are you even so persistent with learning poetry? since when did this happen? you trying to impress that kaedehara guy?”

“what if i said i was?” you flutter your eyelashes to piss him off.

it works: he bristles like an aggravated cat, irritation flashing on his face. “don’t even joke about that.”

you burst into laughter and playfully reach out to pinch his cheek. it’s a testament to how far you’ve come in building his trust when he doesn't swat your hand away from his flawless face. “you’re the one who brought it up,” you coo.

“hey, you two.” you pair stiffen at lisa’s deceivingly sweet voice from behind. “do you mind flirting loudly elsewhere?”

both of you find yourselves outside the building, shoulders slouched, resembling kicked puppies. he has his arms full of your discarded poems, a few of them slipping away as he strides ahead. you struggle to trail behind as you try to stick your quill in your pocket with your hands occupied with a stack of blank papers.

“we weren’t even flirting,” you huff.

wanderer pauses before the trash bin, dumping all of them ceremoniously.

you’re about to comment on how nice he is when he suddenly gets all up in your face, his eyes narrowed and his hand on the small of your back.

“she couldn’t tell with the bedroom eyes you were giving me, clearly,” he says, wordlessly taking the stack of paper from you and tucking it under his arm.

he is being awfully kind today, which, of course, happens nearly never. you want to comment about that, too, but you find yourself silent as you follow after him and watch his side profile. the smoothness of his skin, unblemished, untouched; the length of his lashes, rivaling the shogun herself; then his unrelenting need to have his hands on you no matter what.

thinking about all this makes your heart flutter, picking up pace in a way you haven’t felt the entire day.

then comes the brilliant idea. “kunikuzushi, what if i just write about you instead? will that satiate your ego enough to keep you from bothering me?” it’s not like it would be too difficult to write about the person you’re harboring feelings for.

he doesn’t look appalled by the idea, yet still, he isn’t pleased. “i’m not bothering you for the sake of it. i don’t like how this is the first you’ve talked to me all day.”

“so you are bothering me for the sake of it.”

“idiot.” he flicks his hand, and a gust of wind pushes you against his chest. “look at me.” you obey, and only then do you notice the way tension seems to have left his shoulders the moment you do.

a sly smirk tugs on your lips. “were you feeling lonely without me?”

“no shit,” he says, which was far from the response you were expecting.

startled, you turn to him, only to find that he’s pulled his hat down to cover his face. “kuni,” you say slowly; when he doesn’t reply, you try again, “kuni, kunikuzushi.” he is completely still, so you take it upon yourself to sneak beneath his hat to steal a glimpse of his face.

he lets out an undignified noise, looking away immediately. it was a fruitless attempt—you already saw how red his entire face was, spread from his ears to what you can see from his neck.

“stop,” he breathes, too embarrassed to push you away.

you laugh softly, encircling your arms around his neck to coax him into making eye contact with you. “i didn’t know you were the clingy type.”

“you’re just a handful,” he spits, though it’s not as intimidating as he’s trying to make it out to be—not when his face is the same shade of windwheel asters, and his bottom lip is trembling from shame.

“and you’re so cute when you’re so in love with me.”

eventually, his hand settles on your face, and he pries you off him, pointedly ignoring your delighted laughter.

A/N put a hold on the lyney fics to come back to this guy. i love writing for him he is so fun.

#606:GENSHIN #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #scaramouche drabble #wanderer fluff

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najia-cooks · 3 months ago

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[ID: A plate of large, very full ravioli sprinkled with fresh herbs. A close-up on one of the ravioli cut open to reveal and herb and cheese filling. End ID]

Pansooti (Ligurian stuffed pasta with wild greens)

This is a recipe for a cheese-and-herb stuffed pasta called "pansooti" in Ligurian, or "pansotti" in Italian. The name is derived from the Italian "panciuti" (singular: "panciuto"), meaning "pot-bellied"; and, as the name implies, they are meant to be stuffed until they are distinctly round on one side. In Genoan parlance, pansooti are sometimes called "ge in preixun" ("chard in prison").

Pansooti's origins can perhaps be found in Sant’Apollinare, where they were typically made for the feast of Saint Joseph on March 19. Because they are ravioli di magro ("lean ravioli")—that is, meatless pasta—they're perfect for a festival that always falls during Lent.

Pansooti's filling is cheesy and earthy, with bitter greens, nutmeg, majoram, and a light, tangy local cheese called prescinsêua (also known as quagliata, or cagliata). Traditionally, a mix of locally foraged wild herbs known as preboggión, including borage, aster, dandelion, and sow thistle, is used; and in spring, pre-mixed bundles of these pot herbs can be purchased in the markets in Genoa. In seasons when these greens are not available, Swiss chard may be used.

Pansooti is frequently served with a creamy salsa di noci (walnut sauce), which combines the sweet earthiness of walnuts, the zestiness of raw garlic, and the floral and fruity notes of good olive oil to form a perfect complement to the herb filling.

Recipe under the cut!

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Ingredients:

For the pasta:

250g 00 semolina flour (semola di grano duro rimacinata)

Pinch of table salt

Splash of white wine (optional)

About 155g water

Ligurian pasta is typically made without eggs. The adoption of eggs in pasta-making occurred in some regions of Italy over the course of the 20th century. I have seen someone go so far as to say that no true Italian adds eggs to pasta. Nor does any true Scotsman add sugar to his porridge.

For the filling:

1 compacted cup (180g) prepared preboggión; or Swiss chard

1 cup (175g) vegan ricotta; or vegan labna

2 sprigs marjoram

Freshly grated nutmeg, to taste

For the sauce:

Half a tea glass (1/3 cup) good olive oil

200g shelled walnuts

A clove of garlic

50g non-dairy parmesan cheese (optional)

200g soy or oat milk

A sprig of marjoram

50g stale bread, or breadcrumbs

Salt, to taste

Instructions:

For the pasta:

Mix flour and salt in a large bowl. Make a well in the center and add water and wine, if using. Knead by hand for 10 minutes, or in a stand mixer on medium-low for 6 minutes. The dough should be soft and slightly sticky.

Cover and let rest for 30 minutes to an hour while you prepare the filling and sauce.

For the filling:

Mince greens, or use a food processor. Mix all filling ingredients. Taste and adjust salt and nutmeg.

For the sauce:

Cut the stale bread in into cubes. Combine with milk in a small bowl, and work with your hands until the bread is fully hydrated and you have a grainy mixture.

Pulverise garlic in a mortar and pestle. Add walnuts and crush to desired texture.

Combine the olive oil, breadcrumb mixture, walnuts, marjoram, cheese, and salt and mix.

If you don't have a mortar and pestle, grate the garlic and finely chop the walnuts.

To assemble:

1. Divide dough into four pieces, leaving the ones you're not working with covered. Roll the first piece of dough out into a rectangle about 1/8" (3mm) thick.

2. Cut dough into 3" (7.5cm) squares and place a heaping teaspoon of filling atop each one. Fold each square diagonally into a triangle; then, take the two furthest points of the triangle and bring them together, pressing to seal. Take any extra dough that's crossed over and fold it around the point you just made, pressing again.

To cook:

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Carefully add pansooti and cook 3-5 minutes, until pasta is cooked through. Remove with a slotted spoon.

Top with walnut sauce and fresh marjoram and serve hot.

#Italian #Ligurian #ravioli #pasta #foraged #bitter greens #chard #labna #cheese

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sheydmade · 3 months ago

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Rose Magic: Using Roses in Spells & Divination

by Keziah

Spring is rolling right along, and my garden is blooming like mad. I noticed the other day that some of my rosebushes are already budding, and I look forward to their blossoms every year, not only because I enjoy the vibrant hues of my rose shrubs and roses are favorites of the pollinators in my neighborhood (who doesn't love to see happy bees and butterflies hanging around?), but also because roses are a versatile magical ally that can be put to use in a number of ways.

Perhaps best known for their use in love magic, roses can also be utilized in spells for luck, beauty, health, protection, or binding, or in divination work. In this piece, we'll explore some magical uses for roses, including spells and divination methods for all experience levels.

Rose season varies depending on the variety of rose in question and the growing area in which one lives, but many rose varieties bloom (sometimes once or twice and sometimes continually) from midspring through fall, which means that the days of rose blooms are nearly upon us in the northern hemisphere. Hopefully there's something for everyone in this piece, and we can all take advantage of the rose season to come this year.

SPELLS

WISHING SPELLS

There are a few ways to use roses in wish spells. Roses, known for the sweetness of their scent, are believed to attract goodness and positivity, making them the perfect addition to any wishing or fortune spell. Perhaps their sweet scent will be just the thing to attract the outcome you seek.

Planting the Wish

What you’ll need:

A rose petal / rose petals

Pen or marker (optional)

What to do: Share your wish with a rose petal. You can do this by whispering the wish to the petal, by holding the petal to your chest as you think on the wish, or even by writing the wish upon the petal.

Now all you need to do is bury the petal. It’s preferred that you ‘plant’ the rose petal at the base of something growing – a rosebush, a tree, flowers. This adds strength to your spell and helps your wish to grow into being.

Casting the Wish

What you’ll need:

A rose petal / rose petals

Pen or marker (optional)

What to do: This spell is to be done on a windy day. Much like the spell above, you can share your wish(es) with your rose petal in whatever way you prefer.

Hold the rose petal(s) up above your head between your forefinger and your thumb. When you’re ready (and when the wind is blowing), release the petal(s) into the wind and let it carry your wish(es) to fruition.

the Wisher’s Bag

What you’ll need: You can use any combination of the plants listed or all of them! It's entirely up to you!

Drawstring bag or a square of cloth and a ribbon or string to make your own bag with

Bay leaves

Clover flowers and/or clover leaves

Dandelion flowers and/or dandelion roots

Purple loosestrife petals and/or purple loosestrife flowers

Rose petals, rose buds, and/or whole rose flowers

Yarrow flowers

What to do: Fill your drawstring bag (preferably made of something breathable, like organza or cotton) with any, or all, of the above plants. As you fill your bag, think about what you’re wishing for, thinking about it coming true and pouring your hopes into the bag. If the plants were already dried when you put them in the bag, you can go ahead and put the bag in your purse or wear it around your neck, or you can hang the bag up near your door, above your bed, in an area in your home associated with your wish (for example, in an office or study space if your wish has something to do with your work or academics). If the plants were fresh, hang your bag up where sunlight will hit it to dry the plants – on a porch, in the window, anywhere that gets good sunlight. After the plants have dried, you can put the bag in any of the above listed places, or you can carry the bag with you. Every now and then, or every day if you like, hold the bag in your hands and think about your wish, filling the bag of plants with your hopeful energy.

the Wisher’s Working Oil & the Wisher’s Jar

The ingredients listed above in the Wisher’s Bag spell can also be used with a jar instead of a bag.

What to do (the Wisher's Jar): You can either fill the jar with dried plants to make a Wisher’s Jar, or you put fresh or dried plants into the jar and then fill the jar with an oil of your choosing. Grapeseed oil is commonly used. Now you not only have made a wisher’s jar spell, but you’re also making a Wisher’s Working Oil. What to do (the Wisher's Working Oil): You can use this oil as added oomph in any spell pertaining to you meeting your goals or obtaining your wishes. You can use it to:

anoint candles you’re using in the spell,

anoint yourself while working,

anoint tools used in said spell.

Rosa centifolia (cabbage rose); Pierre-Joseph Redouté

GLAMORS & BEAUTY

Rosewater & Rose Oil

Rosewater can be used in a number of magical ways as part of any glamor or spell to amplify attraction or beauty. It can be used as a facial toner, can be used to anoint mirrors and beauty application tools, can be sprayed upon clothing or fabric, can be used to wash hair, and has many other uses and applications.

NOTE: If you wish to use rosewater in any food or drink, be sure to use petals from edible rose variations. Older heirloom varieties are said to be best for cooking with and for rosehip teas. Lady of Shallot, Rosa Blanc Double de Coubert, Rosa Centifolia, Rosa Damascena, Rosa Gallica are popular varieties to use for cooking and teas, as are Wild Roses. And remember, the more fragrant the rose, the stronger the flavor. You can always purchase food-safe dried rosehips, leaves, and petals from tea stores. When collecting hips and petals yourself, always be sure that you’re not using anything that’s been exposed to pesticides or herbicides.

Making rosewater can be incredibly easy as well! You’ll find a few methods of making rosewater here, and of making rose oil here.

It’s said that dabbing a bit of rose oil or rosewater behind your ears magically enhances your beauty, making your best features stand out to those around you and giving you a vibrant, effortless glow that attracts people to you.

Rosewater, rose petals, and/or rose oil are all also a great foundation to build a beautifying bath spell on.

Color Me Pretty Sympathetic Magic

Here’s a little ditty from my childhood. This spell is one that wasn’t at all odd to come across in a schoolyard or classroom where I'm from. It’s something that we partook in as youths before we were really old enough to understand or realize that we were practicing sympathetic magic, which is a fairly common method of magic in that region. This was something that we used to do during recess and at sleepovers or camp as a ‘game’.

What you’ll need:

Paper

Drawing/painting utensils (pencil, pen, crayon, paint, marker, charcoal, etc.)

Rose petals – they must be red or dark or bright pink

What to do: Draw a picture of yourself – it can be a simple picture, but you should include identifying details (freckles, haircut, standout features).

Then, take the rose petal(s) and smear it upon the paper to add color to the cheeks (and lips, if you want to). It’s as simple as that, folks.

We used to fold the pictures up and tuck them away somewhere. At sleepovers, we’d sleep with them under our pillows. Sometimes we’d just hang the picture up in our rooms or on the refrigerator. The beautifying effects of this easy spell aren’t meant to last too long, nor is it intended to drastically change anything about your appearance; it’s just to give you that added glow to your natural beauty.

LOVE

Roses are a well-known aid in love magic and there's a plethora of information around as to how to use roses to such ends, so I'll not spend too much time in this piece dedicated to the matter.

Scattering Rose Petals

It's said that walking through a garden or field and scattering rose petals as you go along could attract new love into your life. Beyerl specifies in the Master Book of Herbalism that doing so unclothed is preferred, but it's also said that doing so whilst wearing white (further symbolizing newness, hope, beginnings) or pink (symbolizing love and happiness) is ideal.

Preserving Love & Promoting Romance and Harmony

What you'll need:

Rose petals (fresh or dried)

A photo of your love

A photo album (optional)

A safety pin or rape (optional)

What to do: Place rose petals near or on an image of your love, encouraging harmonious love and affection between you.

You can pin the petals to a photo, tape them around a frame holding a picture of your love, or keep them on or around a picture in a photo album or billfold.

There is another variation of this work -

What you'll need:

A jar, tin, or box (it should have a lid, so as to keep from attracting ants or other bug or mice friends)

A photo of your love

Rose petals

Sugar

What to do:

Pour your sugar and rose petals into the jar, tin, or box. Place the photo of you love in the bed of sugar and rose petals. This promotes love and sweetness, keeping your relationship happy and romantic. It can also be used for those wishing to draw someone their way in a romantic sense, perhaps someone they wish to date that they feel might not yet see their romantic feelings.

Rose Water, Perfume, Potpourri, or Incense to Attract Your Desired

In Gillian Kmep's the Good Spell Book she features a spell using rose-scented incense to encourage attraction from someone you have interest in. It's also said, outside of Kemp's work, that wearing rose-scented perfumes or dabbing rose water behind one's ears or at one's neck before going to see the person you desire will encourage their attraction. Burning potpourri or incense featuring rose as an ingredient whilst you ready yourself to see that person can also have the same effect.

Rosa moschata (musk rose); Pierre-Joseph Redouté

PROTECTION, BANISHING, & BINDING

Door Warding for Protection of the Home

DISCLAIMER: If you have cats or other pets that will swat at something hanging or try to chew on something hanging on your wall or door, this is not the spell for you. The rose thorns may cause injury.

What you’ll need:

Rose thorns

Yarn or ribbon (preferably red or black, or both)

Bells (optional)

Nails (optional)

What to do: Cut good, long lengths of yarn or ribbon (red and black are great colors to use for protection, warding, and banishing work). You’ll need at least 9 strands for this spell, but you can add (in multiples of three) as many as you’d like.

With your yarn or ribbon all cut roughly the same length, separate them into groups of three. Braid each group of yarn or ribbon using a simple three-strand braid technique.

Gather the top of the braids together in one hand and secure a knot, tying all of your braids together. You’ll end up with something that sort of resembles the end of a cat of nine tails now. You can either leave your braids like this or you can braid each of the braids together until you’ve formed one thick braided cable.

Whether you’ve chosen to keep your braids separate or braid them together, now is the time to add your rose thorns. Taking care not to poke yourself, pierce the braids with the sharp end of the rose thorns. You want to push it in far enough that your rose thorns are secure and will not fall out. If you like, you can push it far enough in that the sharp end of the thorns poke out the other side of the braid.

If you want, you can add bells (small jingle bells or whichever bells you like) to the door warding – bells are known to ring and alert one to the presence of evil or malicious figures or energy. Tie your bells to the ends of your braid(s).

For added protection, you can insert nails into the braid(s), especially iron nails, in the same way you did the thorns.

Now all that’s left is to hang this protective charm up either on your door, on your doorframe, or on the wall near your door to keep your home safe and sound, protected from malevolent spirits, energies, and people alike.

Protection & Banishing Candle Spell

What you’ll need:

1 candle (preferably red or black)

Rose thorns

Salt (optional)

What to do: If you choose to include salt in this spell, form a ring of salt around the candleholder and unlit candle.

Add a ring of thorns, placing them on top of the ring of salt.

Light your candle and sit for a while, thinking on what you want to protect from/what you wish to banish or cast out. Pour that energy into the candleflame, imagining it growing stronger and hotter and being fed by your energy and your wishes.

Let the candle burn down on its own.

Binding Spell

What you’ll need:

Thread, yarn, or ribbon (preferably red or black, or both)

Rose thorns

What to do: Cut nine lengths of thread, yarn, or ribbon. Separate those nine lengths into groups of three.

Braid each group of three, resulting in three braids.

You can now either braid those three braids together to form one thick braid, or you can tie the ends of the braids together to form one long braid (but don’t gather the top and tail of the braid and tie it; we don’t want it to form a circle because we still have tying yet to do).

Tie knots into your braid. You can tie either three or nine knots. Most people tie nine if they’re braid is long enough, but I’ve known it to be done with three as well. Think about who it is you’re binding with this spell and what you’re binding them from doing, and, as you tie each knot, say (either aloud or to yourself) –

As I tie this, so I tie you. As I knot this, so I knot you. As I bind this, so I bind you. (Insert what you’re trying to keep this person from doing here), no more you’ll do.

You can also use the person's name in place of "you."

For added oomph, pierce each knot with a rose thorn. Work the rose thorn into the knot, making sure its securely fixed in the knot. It's not meant to cause physical injury or harm to whomever you’re binding. Think of it as using a nail to fix something into place. You’re using the rose thorns in the same way, pinning down the magic and helping it stick. That being said, you absolutely can use thorns (in this spell or otherwise) with intention of sewing injury or harm (see the curses section of this post).

As for what you do with the braid after, that’s up to you. Some folk hang it from a tree for nine days. Some bury it (this isn't recommended if you live in an area where an animal or child may dig this up). Some hang it in their home or keep it in their home, in a box or jar somewhere. Some simply discard it. It's up to you.

Protection Jar Spell

What you’ll need:

1 jar

Rose vinegar

Rose thorns

Star anise

Rowan berries and/or rowan bark

Apple seeds

Candlewax (preferably red or black; optional)

What to do: For this spell, you’ll need rose vinegar. If you don’t know how to make rose vinegar, the recipe will be included just after this spell. It’s very easy, so stick around for that. Until then…

Take your jar and fill it at least ¾ of the way with rose vinegar. Remember, you don’t want to fill it completely, just in case anything we add raises the vinegar to the point of spilling.

Add your rose thorns, star anise, rowan berries and/or rowan bark, and apple seeds to the jar.

Close the lid of the jar. Many people like to further seal the jar with melted candle wax. If you’d like to do this, it’s best to use a red or black candle (or both!) as they’re both colors frequently used for protection work. All you have to do is light your candle(s) and hold it over your jar, tilting it to drip the wax onto the top of the jar and its lid. Drip to your heart’s content.

And that’s that! You have a protection jar.

Some people keep their jars on a shelf or table in the main room of their house or near their door. Others bury their jars in their yard or stash it under a porch. Do whatever feels right to you.

Rose Vinegar Recipe

Rose vinegar is a great addition to your magical work and to your kitchen. It can be used in protection, cleansing, and banishing magic, and can be used in some curse work. It can also be used to take the inflammation and itch out of bug bites or some rashes, can be used as a temple massage to treat headaches, and as a hair rinse.

What you’ll need:

Vinegar (any kind works, but most prefer to use apple cider vinegar)

Red or vibrant pink rose petals (they make the prettiest colored rose vinegar)

1 saucepan or kettle

1 jar (IMPORTANT: While infusing, you don’t want to use a metal lid on your jar. Metal and vinegar are not friends. You can use a makeshift lid of plastic wrap over the top of the jar. If you use a metal lid whilst you store the vinegar once it’s cooled, be sure to not fill the jar all the way up with your vinegar. Vinegar is corrosive and exposing the metal to vinegar can lead to chemicals of the metal breaking down in your rose vinegar, which we don’t want. It’s best just to avoid using a metal lid altogether.)

1 glass bottle (optional) or decanter to move your rose vinegar to after it’s steeped and ready to use

What to do: Heat your vinegar in the saucepan on the stove. Heating the vinegar will give you a head start on the infusion process, as the heated vinegar begins drawing the color, flavor, and properties from the rose petals faster than cold vinegar does. But you absolutely can do this without heating the vinegar, it will just take a little longer.

While your vinegar is warming up, place your rose petals in the jar. You can use either fresh or dried petals, though fresh will give you a much prettier and more vivid finished product. Fresh petals also strengthen the fragrance.

With your vinegar heated (you want to cut the heat just before it starts to simmer), pour it into the jar. You want the roses to be completely covered and submerged in vinegar – not one bit of dry rose left.

Cover the top of the jar with a plastic or cork top or your makeshift lid of plastic wrap.

Leave your vinegar to cool. Once cooled, you want to store your vinegar in a dark, cool place to infuse. This process usually takes about 2-3 weeks. Remember, do not let your rose vinegar contact any metal lids! Whether it’s hot or cold, vinegar simply does not like metal.

After 2-3 weeks, your vinegar should be a pretty hue of reddish-pink. Now you want to strain the vinegar into glass bottles for storing, keeping the rose petals out of the now finished rose vinegar.

Your rose vinegar will keep for at least 1 year. I recommend storing your vinegar in the dark, perhaps in a pantry or cabinet. You just don’t want to leave it out in direct sunlight, as that will fade the color of the vinegar faster and potentially shorten your vinegar’s shelf life.

Rosa gallica 'Evêque'; Pierre-Joseph Redouté

DIVINATION

Roses can be used as divinatory aids in many ways. One easy way is to wash one's hands in rosewater before working divinatory practices, most especially if the divination pertains to matters of the heart.

Phyllorhodomancy

Phyllordomancy is divining via rose petals and leaves. There are various ways of doing this, but any method of divination using rose petals, roses, or rose leaves is technically phyllordomancy. Here are a couple of methods –

Method One: By Clapping

What you’ll need:

Rose leaf or rose petal

What to do: This method was practiced by the Ancient Greeks. Take a rose leaf or petal and lay it upon your palm.

Ask or think on the question at hand, then clap your hands together.

If the sound produced was clear, loud, or full, this means that a positive outcome is at hand. If the sound was dull or quiet, the odds aren’t in your favor and the outcome will be a negative one.

Method Two: By Water

What you’ll need:

Rose petals

A bowl or vessel of some kind

Water

What to do: Fill your bowl or vessel with water.

Take your rose petals in hand and ask or think on your question.

Lay or drop the rose petals down onto the water. If the rose petals pull away from each other, the answer to your question is no. If the petals stay together, the answer is yes.

You can continue asking questions. After each question, tap the water with your fingertip, or shake the bowl or vessel, to make the rose petals move. Again, if the petals move away from one another, your answer is no; and if they stay together, your answer is yes.

There is another variation of this method in which you place the roses atop the water before asking your question. With the roses floating on the water, close your eyes and gently swirl the bowl or vessel of water whilst asking your question. Remove your hands from the bowl or vessel and open your eyes, observing the behavior of the rose petals. As before, if they disperse upon the water, the answer to your question in no; but if they stay together, your answer is yes.

Method Three: By Air

What you’ll need:

Rose petals

What to do: Your hands full of rose petals, think on or ask your question.

Cast the petals high into the air and observe how they fall.

This method has many variations of its own. Some read the symbols or shapes they see in the rose petals as they fall. Others read where the rose petals lay – Do they form any patterns or symbols? Do they cluster together or fan out? Are there any distinct piles or mounds of petals? And what do these symbols or patterns mean to you? This method is one that intuitive readers will likely take to quicker than those who prefer a set system for their divinatory practices.

Method Four: By Burning

What you’ll need:

Dried rose petals

A fire-safe cauldron, bowl, or pot

What to do: Burn dried rose petals in your room before going to sleep to promote a good night's sleep but also to encourage divinatory dreams to come forth in the night.

Method Five: By Sleeping

What you’ll need:

Rose petals (fresh or dried)

A pillow with a pillowcase

What to do: Before going to bed, tuck rose petals into your pillowcase. This can bring on dreams revealing the identity of your true love or soulmate.

SOURCES & FURTHER READING:

In this post, you’ll find a collection of spells that anyone can try for themselves. I should note, I am a practitioner of a regional traditional magic and a good portion of the spells that I’ve written here are either spells that are heavily inspired by the practice I’ve grown up with or directly from that practice. That being said, none of what is written here is exclusive to that practice, so it can be used by anyone, anywhere without encroaching upon a practice they’re not a part of.

Making Rosewater

Making Rose Oil

‘A Compendium of Herbal Magick’ – Beryl, Paul

'Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs' - Cunningham, Scott

'Doctoring the Devil: Notebooks of an Appalachian Conjure Man' - Richards, Jake

'the Good Spell Book: Love Charms, Magical Cures, and Other Practical Sorcery' - Kemp, Gillian

'Magical Folkhealing: Herbs, Oils, and Recipes for Health, Healing, and Magic' - Conway, DJ

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valentine-cafe · 3 months ago

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˖⁺. “ to love or hate your god ! ” :

﹙ corrupt god x cultist fem reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 164 zhào talisen !! 🍓 : ﹙ corrupt god ˖ snake god character ﹚

To love and hate are two sides of the same coin. You adore your god for all that he is, but with it comes hate when you learn he barely bats an eye at his devotees. Could he not see your obsession? You'd been so caught up in lamenting over the hole in your heart that you barely noticed you already held his.

﹙ cws ﹚: dark ˖ heavy religious imagery ˖ violent imagery ˖ reader is a devotee ˖ dark smut ˖ | wc : 1.3k

﹙ receipts ﹚: copper and cultist reader? copper and cultist reader

꒰ other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

Most devotees adore their gods. It's in the name. Devotion. Your heart, soul and mind. To make an all-powerful being the centre of your attention. Your shine. The single candle surrounded by your offering.

You, however, felt more than devotion. Is hate not on the same coin as love? To devote is to obsess, to hate is frightfully the same.

Your god was different. A being of mass destruction. Many of your people took the dimly lit, twisted path to find him. Behold his might. Show their dedication through spills of blood and the endless iron scent. You shouldn't complain, you took such a path as well. No one dragged your feet across the stone or hoisted you through the dirt. Even when your heels scraped and bled, still, you committed to finding him. Copper Resentment. Deity of deceit. God of the damned, the wretched. You found him.

Oh, how you adored him. At first. The stories were true. How could such a darkness-riddled being glimmer in the sun? Copper specks littered tanned skin like kisses. How your lips wished to brush and worship. Ebony, silky strands cascade down his towered height like a dark river. Elegant. Endless. Your hands itched to touch, hold, braid.

For such a being deserves to be worshipped. He is a god, no? But your lord was quite different. Gods should bask in the presence of their seas-worth of followers. He barely cast a glance. As though their offerings are meaningless. As though the very blood you spill sullies the ground.

You couldn't take it. How could your god be so cruel? You would sacrifice your body, tongue, eyes and heart if he wished. Lay yourself on the altar, place the dagger in his finely sculpted hand.

You suppose you shouldn't bear surprise. The gods are cruel. He is no exception. Compared to him, an ant is all you are. A boot has no issue with such a feeble body. Why should his hands hold any reference for yours?

Obsession spurs many things. Love, as a start. What many fail to note is the unbridled, unfathomable, blooming - burning - hate.

You hate him for his lack of attention. You loathe him for the devotion you so mindlessly expect back. Have you not bled for him enough? Have you not laid your devotion bare for him? A pomegranate ready for the taking? To tear and claw and carve into you, as you so desperately wish him to?

It is this hard wax that blinds you. How mindless you are when his eyes do take pleasure in you. When he stands before you, offers you his voice, his touch to your robes. All vain to the thorn bush wrapped tight around your heart. A defence. Or perhaps denial?

How he called for you first and foremost. His tongue rolls your name like both a sin and a prayer. To you, it is only a curse. Blasphemous. Your eyes never found his, so how could you possibly decipher the similar flame a'brew? How could you possibly spot hands ready with the dagger you craved. Eager to carve into your chest cavity and rip your heart for themselves? Himself. To hold, nurture, gorge.

Gorge might be an understatement. No, you are a banquet to him. But like any lamb, you are oblivious to the slaughter. Too distracted by the luscious fields of your own self-pity. The blooms and dandelions of your obsession. The glimmered sun of your love and streams of your hate.

Perhaps that is why you are surprised to find yourself here. Laid over an altar. Really, what did you expect? All this time you thought yourself a useless goat, when you are a dove so ready for the taking.

Your body denied nothing. With knees propped and far from one another and a head of dark streams tucked between your thighs. While lies dripped from his tongue so effortlessly, no deception is in the way it worships you. How his lips suckle on your ambrosia and cascade across your quivered slit.

"Are you not the perfect offering, my sweet dove?" the deep drawl of his voice sends vibrations through your squelched pussy. Boldly, you bury hands into those endless mists of his hair and steer your wetness up into his face. Grind on his chin and mouth as if it is your birthright.

"M-My . . . My lord - oh gods."

Clawed hands carve murals into your thighs. His mouth sings praises to your fluttered cunt as he kisses up the slit, locks his lips around your clit and throws you into thralls of blistering pleasure. Your head tosses back. Lewd face hidden in the deep shadows. Only brought to light candle flickers.

Your clit throbs at a flick. He traps the poor nub and rubs eternal circles as his mouth ventures back. His elongated tongue is quite the devil. How it prods and fucks each and every darling spot inside of you. Sending you straight to the heavens, the cosmos; and all by a damned being.

"There are no gods here." His deep groan lavishes your creaming pussy. Sweet like honey. White like marble. His laugh is breathy as he laps at your juices. Rewards you with kisses as he takes in the saccharine perfume of your arousal. "Only me. I'm your god. Worshipping such a pretty, perfect pussy."

He rubs harder on your clit. Chasing another orgasm. As though your juices do not trickle down his chin and neck as candle wax does beside you. As though he is not knelt before his own altar. As greedy as a demon. As divine as an angel. As he worships you. Sends your eyes to cross and white, hot streams to wash over your quivered body.

"Y-Yes - yes yes only you. Only you - o-only you my god - my lord - oh."

At last, he rises. The twitches and shivers of your body leave you unaware. Until a heavy feeling weighs your thigh. You look down. Brace your lips between your teeth and gasp at the pop of his tip. "There we go . . ."

His hair casts a veil all around you. To shield you from the outside world. Who needs the world when you have your god? Face-to-face with him as he inches into you. Shows your poor cunt what true devotion is. To his throbbing cock that fills you whole. Swarms your insides and bathes you in his sinful pleasures.

"Please."

"Keep praying, sweet dove."

He groans. One clawed hand sculpts your hip and the other splays beside your head. Bodies flushed. You feel the how he encompasses you. Douses you in ritual flames and beholds the sweet hymns of your weeping entrance.

"See how she cries for me." His cock withdraws, you squirt and sob as he shoves back in. He's the only thing clouding your vision. You claw at his shoulders. Leave behind your worship's evidence on his fine, copper-littered skin as he thrusts. Pounds. Fucks you on his altar as you have always wished. Prayed for.

"She knows who her god is. Do you, sweetness?"

"Yes! Yes," you keen, your head nods, throat bobs as you needily buck into his endless love. His bottomless obsession. A god, devoting himself to you. Impaling you on his cock rather than a dagger. Carving his claim into your innermost self. "I-It is you - it's you, oh please."

Legends tell tales of his grin. It's cruelty. You see it now too. Only, the glimmer in his eyes speaks truths. So you inch for his lips, and he grants your every desire. Mouth to yours. Kisses for all you're worth. His behemoth of a cock slams forward. Shallows. Fucks you into a creaming, whining mess. All over his altar. Nothing but a pile of flesh and bones. Perhaps you are indeed: an offering.

"My beautiful devotee," he groans. "My newest sin. Mine. Mine." There is only obsession in the way that he claims you. There is only love in the way that you let him.

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unabashednightmarepizza · 2 years ago

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𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝐴 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑊ℎ𝑜…

A/N: Not gonna lie, my eyes might have shed a tear or so at the "like a parent who..." parts, I got emotional...

Pairings: Archons x Creator!Parentalfigure!Reader

Everyone often thought as the hunted down, true Creator of Teyvat, you would punish people for their crimes against them.

The people, almost everyone in every nation except some (those who were favoured by you later on), hunted you and tortured you beyond comprehension. Especially the Archons who were decieved by the False One, so easily they fell prey to "Their" clutches when they prided themselves to be the closest, most loyal to You, their Creator.

Yet, they were also the ones who committed the worst sin.

They never expected to see you in their land once again, happy and cheerfully eating while gazing at the horizon. Not when a harsh punishment to them and their people was expected from You, not when they got ready to beg for forgiveness for their people, for you to have mercy on them even if they didn't show the same one to you.

And perhaps, your anger and wrath was better than your kindness, for their heart and very existence clenched painfully inside them, threatened to swallow them whole with the cold and relentless darkness seeping inside them as they were harshly slapped back with what they had done to Their True Creator and how They were treating Their Creations.

With kindness and love, tenderness they once felt in the Heavenly Grounds as they all sat around You and talked, ate together, basked in your love as each of them tried to make You smile and give affection to each of them, pat their heads softly and just be there for them...

Unlike the False One who only demands, is harsh and devoid of the warmth you had.

And even then... They are unable to notice the True One they always loved and will always do.

Out of anything Venti thought to see today, seeing you in the Angel's Share drinking the dandelion wine he made people to produce in your name (since it was a favourite of yours back when everything was fine and enjoyed a drink at the balcony of your Holy Chamber with him seated next to you) and inviting him over for one wasn't on the list. He didn't expect to be sitting next to your holy body, looking dumbfounded yet also still smiling with tears in his big eyes as you told him that you wouldn't neither abandon nor punish him or his people.

And he certainly didn't expect to be hugged by you after so so long, after being deprived off of the feeling of home, clutching on your robes thightly with a promise to never let go and doubt you again and wailing like a baby as you comforted him with his face buried in your neck, babbling about how he was so guilty, how he thought he lost You for eternity...

Like a parent whose child wanted to get away from their strict parent, thinking the outside world was better, that their parent was just overexaggerating. Like a parent comforting their child who was lost on the way after they realized how right their parent was, yet found themselves again by the parent who gave them another sense of freedom to soar.

Out of any place, Zhongli never expected to see you in his private residence drinking some tea and preparing some snacks to bring for him to eat. He never thought he would see the day you wore such casual clothes, hair messily up in bun as your holy hands were covered with flour. As the eldest, he was able to see your every form and every new hobby you would get. Knitting? Braiding hair? Sewing? Sword fighting? Bird watching? Playing with the kids and dragging him to play the prince that saved the princess? You name it and he would start to list all the day to you, when you first started to do them as you laughed and patted his horn affectionately- he would never tell this to anyone, but you as the Divine Creator, were the only one he was fine with them being touched. Not that he had a choice to him, at least. He knows if you heard that, you would have his head-

But as much as he was seen as a war hero, someone that saved and protected people... He failed to protect the one being he swore his existence to, who died and suffered at his hands, begging to be spared as if he was the Deity that gave him life, as if he was more mighty than You.

What kind of a devotee, of a god he was? How could he do such a mistake-

But, the one who he thought was mad at him, at them, and were punishing them with their absence was right there. Bringing him his tea just the way he liked it, some food he loved eating with Them centuries ago as you pointed to the empty seat and sat down yourself right in front of him as he couldn't help but stare at you with a slacked jaw, at how easily you smiled at him just like you used to, praising him for his excellent choice of tea and spices.

Like a parent seeing the inner struggle of their child and being silently there for them, tell them that no matter what, they would be there in the end and protect them from their own harsh mind.

Out of any place, Ei never thought she would see you offering her dango as you stared at your statue, the statue where she put all the visions she got after the Vision Hunting, with a frown. It used to be such a joy for her to look at it, thinking she was doing the right thing just as Makoto and her Creator would have wanted. The day she first lost her Creator, with absolutely no one knowing what happened to Them, was so full of despair. She didn't know what to do, her twin didn't know what to do, all they had ever known was you and all they knew about ruling and capturing the hearts of your people was from you. She felt... abandoned, a feeling she would later inflict on her own son unknowingly, but she still had her sister with herself so that must at least mean that you would be back to help them out, right?

She wasn't expecting to loose her friends and her dear sister, at all.

That was the turning point in her destiny, one that led to madness and obsession. She might have given her people order, and discipline in a land where they can protect and be there for their loved ones, where they could reach eternity together and give visions to strike down anyone who dared to take it from them but...

Now, as she looked back at her past and the statue, the one on whose name she committed crimes for... She only remembered her fight with the Traveller and how you had come to protect them, with the same face as the "sinner" she once killed, and showed her the true way.

That statue was only the painful and disturbing reminder of who she was, and how she had killed the Creator she worshipped above anything because she was deceived and blinded, and how They still came to show her the right path, how you gently caressed and helped the Traveller, someone out of this world...

And now, those same gentle hands that once were outstretched towards her for help, for her to listen to Them but she refused as You choked on the air and golden blood... They were rubbing her face, patting her purple hair as You pressed her face to your neck where your pulse was beating under the skin, alive and comforting her like a parent whose child were hard to deal with, rebellious yet just as worthy of love, confused at the world ahead of them and turning to look at their parent for guidance only to see them pushing from their back to a brighter future, where they stand for eternity just so that their child could look back to see how far they would come.

They never expected to be the witness of such unconditional and pure love, forgiving them so... easily.

Why, they all asked with tears in their eyes and bowing down in front of your relaxed form so deeply their foreheads touched the ground, shoulders stiff yet body shaking because of the sobs that wrecked their bodies. How can you forgive us so easily?

A soft smile from you as you helped them up and wiped their faces clean with a fleeting touch, like a parent calming their baby down from the overwhelming first emotions they would feel.

"What kind of a Creator would I be, if I didn't forgive?"

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years ago

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Reading that female beastmen are mostly stronger then males, this got me thinking that Ruggie sister when in desperate measures she go hunting with some of the hunting group to get food

I liked to think Ruggie mention when asked a question that how his sister went out and came back home with two water buffalo for the family to eat as she can't always used her unique magic during the dry season

And the camping event she did the same habit and brings in a giant elk to share and eat

Leona, Jack, Rook, Sebek,Vil, Azul

Seeing Ruggie sister brings in their hunt and apologize for letting their instincts get the better of them as she just wanted to provide the best she can

Fun fact: Hyenas have the strongest bite force that they can able to break bones, and they are very social animals and they are more related to cats then dog

Ruggie’s Sister Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

It's the modern era hunting animals with your hyena features isn’t exactly as accepted nowadays. Not to mention Ruggie’s comfortabiltiy; if you're the original little sister you’re not supposed to be too intimidating. That’s part of the reason you and Ruggie get along so well. You’re not threatening and you still rely and respect him. In a world of bold beastwomen you're his little ray of gentle light. He’s going to protect that no matter what! But it seems he not the only one:

Leona Kingscholar

“How do you expect to get anywhere in life, without me?”

He knows what makes Ruggie so protective of you

He respects that

But he’s going to have to swoop in and steal your heart

He’s sure Ruggie will appreciate it

Or the massive wedding dowry in his bank account

But no worries you’re not like everyone else and neither is he

So you two just happen to be perfect together

Jack Howl

“I know how special they are…that’s why I’m going to protect them too!”

He means it

Even willing to help his senior if he needs an extra pair of hands

When burying your enemies

He knows he’s got a long way to go

But he’s going to make it work

After all a mate as special as you deserves a worthy partner

Rook Hunt

“Oui oui mon amour est là grain de sable spécial!“

That’s exactly why he so dutifully follows you and monsieur dandelion

Such a curious couple of hyenas are always wonderful to admire hunt

You’re no anomaly

You’re the diamond in the rough

The one he will no doubt have

Sebek Zigvolt

“LOOK! THIS IS THE CALIBER OF A TRUE BEAST WOMAN! I SHALL FIX IT!”

You make him blush

You make him think about you

You fill his head with thoughts of you about how to keep you

Perhaps its because of your abnormal behavior

He really loves it

He’s going to correct this behavior

Even if that means eliminating all distractions

Vil Schoenheit

“But of course, the one I love is a high profile candidate. Too bad though they are mine.”

Such a gentle flower

He’s decided to pick you

Even if he has to poison the surrounding weeds

Maybe even a dandelion if he becomes too much of a problem

Azul Ashengrotto

“Their behavior isn’t at all like most beastwoman…I may open an investigation.”

Investigation…paying to have a thousand photos of you

Or convincing you to earn a few at the monstro lounge

Where he can watch you without restraint

He knows your special no doubt a high commodity for most

Well until he gets into a proper position to woo trap you

He’s willing to string those interested in a harrowing contracts

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databoyreekoo · 4 months ago

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lost masters arc predictions (in no particular order)

!find original post here!

some ideas/predictions for the lost masters arc, i'll update this post whenever i think of anything else ✨

mickey recovers "daybreak town era" data from within scala ad caelum, he finds evidence of different layers/divisions within scala

the appearance of scala can be changed with the same (or similar) trick used with the land of departure/castle oblivion, it depends what guild/faction/person is in control and/or whoever wields master defender

sora connecting with strelitzia will allow namine to establish a link to ava, ava's potential return

lea and isa explore the castle in radiant garden, retracing their steps in order to find more clues about subject x, isa recounts how he got his scar

kairi stays with terra, aqua and ventus in the land of departure while training under aqua, the three of them help build up kairi's confidence and combat skills

kairi's desire and determination to become stronger, not just for herself but for her friends too, feels familiar to ven and resonates with him, chirithy reminds ven of the past which jump-starts a flood of memories returning to ven, he passes out again (lol) and Darkness confronts kairi, aqua and terra

like i speculated before, Darkness may take this opportunity to move to another host (kairi), since that's how darkness spreads

lauriam and elrena reunite and set off to aid the guardians, as well as relearn how to summon their keyblades

sora meets luxord, now human, in quadratum -- the wild card serves as proof that they've met before (it would be really funny if the wild card turned into luxord's business card lmfao)

aegis, magia and strelitzia become sora's party members

yozora and riku meet, but instead of fighting they partner up instead

black box will be opened, revealing what's inside

maleficent dragon form but in ue5, pete gets his "big moment" and/or gets turned into a heartless

luxu and the foretellers travel to quadratum

MoM face reveal 🥰

foretellers' face reveal and/or new outfits

true dandelion and child of destiny reveal

"riku isn't human"

new worlds (not all but i feel like these have a good chance); star wars, treasure planet, atlantis, coco, brave, moana, princess and the frog, soul, the incredibles, turning red, inside out, zootopia, enchanted

returning worlds; hercules, frozen, wreck-it-ralph, cinderella (cinderella 3 would be PERFECT for this)

riku, donald and goofy end up adventuring together for a bit, while mickey ends up with sora

subject x has the same scar isa does, or something similar -- it's revealed that the scar on isa would've originally ended up on subject x's face had isa not stepped in

kairi gives up her princess of heart powers, reflecting her growth as a person and as a keyblade wielder

sora recovers his lost memories and his true memories (perhaps riku does too...), with namine's help ("thank namine")

vanitas...separates himself from the collective Darkness and joins the guardians as well

playable characters (other than sora, obvs); riku, mickey, yozora

other characters may have smaller playable segments, like kairi training with aqua, or the guardians fighting together as a group (like in remind)

at least one more movie (like khx back cover)

khx/khux/khml player character is connected to sora (so like, sora is the reincarnation or descendant of player, something along those lines)

riku is a descendant of ephemera OR related to the master of masters

EDIT (additions)

skuld or strelitzia has ava's heart within them, like a kh1 sora and kairi situation, kairi's restoration in remind was foreshadowing ava's restoration

#kh #speculation #predictions

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delirious-donna · 5 months ago

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an: thanks to @burnishedcrown for requesting her husband, Mr Kuchiki for the event. I enjoyed putting this together so I really hope you'll like it too! <3

starring: Byakuya Kuchiki x female reader

warnings: SFW, fluff, talk about not being deserving of love, a happy ending

now playing -

Byakuya was unaccustomed with expressing emotions openly.

He was getting better, with your help, but it was slow going. You didn’t mind, not one bit, not when you could see the changes happening in front of your eyes. The slow relaxation of his features when you were around, the tension that melted from his shoulders whenever you walked through the door and the icing on the cake—the subtle curve of his lips into a gentle, but small, smile.

It made you feel... special.

To Byakuya, that was exactly what you were, and one day he hoped to be able to express it without the tightness in his chest. For an articulate and well-educated man, the words seemed so far out of his reach that it was almost comical.

In his head he had composed entire sonnets about your beauty. Crafted prose that conjured imagery without compare. But when it came to admitting those feelings that had long since taken root in his heart, he stalled. Maybe he was not to be so lucky. Perhaps he didn’t deserve the chance to discover if the feelings were returned.

“I love you, my darling.”

It was almost exactly one year later, and the world was not like it once had been.

A picnic blanket lay spread out beneath a sakura tree, the blossoms in bloom and drifting lazily from the branches to adorn your hair as your head rested upon Byakuya’s lap.

His fingers entwined with yours and the smile he offered, whilst still not the biggest, was genuine and loving. Soft laughter lines crinkled the corners of his eyes and your heart fluttered at how lucky you had been.

“I love you more,” you retorted playfully, earning yourself an arching eyebrow from your soon-to-be husband.

Byakuya hummed in thought, glancing away to the view of his estate and the place you would both call home. “Not possible,” he offered quietly, “the tortures I endured just to be able to court you… they were true agony.”

“Hey now! I put a lot of care and effort into helping you open up, and it worked didn’t it?”

He chuckled, raising your hand to press a kiss to the fluttering pulse in your wrist. With a nod, you closed your eyes and settled back to enjoy the peak of the afternoon sun

It made your heart skip a beat at just how far you both had come. Smiling indulgently, you reminisced about those days when you would gaze out of your window and send your wishes to the horizon.

'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions Wishing on every one that you'd be mine, mine And I see forever in your eyes I feel okay when I see you smile, smile

Return to the set list

#delirious writes #byakuya kuchiki #byakuya x reader #byakuya fluff #byakuya kuchiki fluff #byakuya kuchiki x reader #Spotify

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cain-e-brookman · 5 months ago

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Hey y'all, @creatingblackcharacters has created a challenge for Black History Month and I thought I'd share my entry. I'd like to tag @topazadine @illarian-rambling @mx-ryder and @spideronthesun for the challenge as well!

Uthyr is the main character of my current WIP: The Name, Witch. His is a story of healing, of putting down shame, and of being true to the spirit of what created you, no matter how the world wants you to bend. This is a scene that takes place about 10 years before we meet him in this same garden. Uthyr's greatest victory is always against despair. Uthyr's strength is in his conviction to himself, the culture and virtues that were passed onto him, and his love for the world around him. In my writing, I want my Black audience to see their own resilience in Uthyr. I want to highlight Black men in roles that are softer, but no less strong.

I also sincerely hope that this book can be a long shout out to my Black autistic sibs who are also obsessed with bugs, amphibians, and/or reptiles. I gave my hyperfixation to Uthyr, and I hope you feel seen with it as well. As I said in the comments to a very needed check, joy is just as important as resiliency, and I hope you find as much happiness as Uthyr does in with cold little buddies!

---

perhaps on the crest of each stiff blade of grass hangs the eternal name of someone who was once loved but is now vanished and just another name in an endless field of names that is newly remembered with each return trip of the eager nose...

-Hanif Abdurraqib from "The Crown Ain't Worth Much

The hydrangea bush to the north of his house was the first thing Uthyr put into the soil in his soon-to-be garden. An old witch tradition. The color of the flowers changed with the humors of the soil. Uthyr didn’t know which color he hoped for, just that it grew to be strong. He hoped the plant would grant him the same blessing.

The last thirty-some years of Uthyr’s life had left behind the cooled pyres of his family, and the last two since the death of his mother had left him adrift. The first, a long year where he’d traveled to nowhere in particular, stayed where he found place to stay, and searched desperately for a purpose. At the end of that long year, he realized, exuberantly, there was none. No end to rush to, no greater deed to be done. He would not be rewarded for suffering, would not reach some peak where it became all worth it. He would not find a purpose, nor would he make his own. He would, instead, simply live. Live brightly, now. Live fearlessly, now. He didn't know where he would go, but he knew where he would start.

He practiced his healing for the first time since his father died. A young girl had taken a fall in the small town in which he was staying. He'd gone to her without a thought, placed his hands around the break, and reached out where he knew the magic still laid. The feel of bone knitting beneath his fingers nearly had him in tears. He could hear his father’s warm, heavy voice as he worked:

Bone remembers its home, just not the way back. Remind it gently, and its journey will be painless.

The little girl hadn’t even cried. He’d pulled a dandelion seed that had stuck itself on his cloak and grew it into a miniature sun before placing it behind her ear for bravery. The Sun Goddess rarely answered his beckons for fire, and his stubbornness never won out over the Stone’s, but neither skill brought about the smiles of gratitude he’d seen in all his time healing. He wished it hadn’t taken him so long to appreciate that part of himself, that part of his father’s influence.

Then, after a long while of fighting with his own head, he finally chose himself. Two weeks in a temple to the God of the Golden Moon saw him leaving behind the word “daughter,” to be replaced with a name that held responsibility to no one but himself. Uthyr of the Asphodels, First of His Name. His mother’s now held nothing a burden of failure on his shoulders. He could have been better for her. Should have been better. But he could not make the dead proud, so he cast off the guilt. It no longer served either of them.

He changed his hair. Spent a long day removing neat rows of braids from his head, combing and washing then rolling his hair like he’d seen his uncle do so many times. At the end of it all, he had sore arms and a deep satisfaction. The start of those locs still stuck oddly from his head in their awkward stage.

“Ugly stage,” his mother used to tease Uncle Callum when they recounted stories of their youth. His uncle would always raise an eyebrow and inform her in no uncertain terms that he’d never been ugly a day in his life. Uthyr planted snapdragons by his window for them both; their favorites. Yellow for his mom. Purple for his uncle. The seeds had been expensive for the paltry savings he’d kept from his brief stint of odd-job healing around the surrounding towns, but the memory of the two exchanging plants on their shared birthday had Uthyr lightening his coin purse without a second thought.

He continued with a few more plots around his house. A smattering of pansies for color, some herbs for healing, then some more for cooking…

A single row of daffodils by his doorway. For his father. His birthday would be soon. Uthyr would cut one and light a candle. Pray the Death God pass on his love.

I’m alright, he’d tell his father. It’s hard and I’m tired, but it’s alright. I’ve got good soil under my feet and good hands to dig.

The anemones he planted on the shaded side of his house were for himself, though. They were delicate things, but right now so was his heart and that needed just as much care. He’d stay strong for them and they’d do the same for him. Water and sunlight. The start, his uncle would say, to any life worth living.

And hope, Uthyr thought. Half of it was always hope.

When Uthyr finished for the day the sun was drawing long shadows across the forest floor. All but his pansies would not see color or flower for a long while, but as Uthyr dusted soil off the dark skin of his hands and forearms, he could already see the future it held. He would get some roses. Maybe not this year. He needed to plant his vegetable garden first. Maybe splurge on a fruit sapling. Tonight he would sit in his mostly empty home, cook a small pot of soup with ingredients from a garden that wasn’t his, and plan recipes for when his own produce grew. But as for now, he felt the waking breath of spring on his face, the softness of the grass under his legs as he dug his toes into the cool earth below him.

A tentative peace was forming in his chest, walking haltingly like a newly born fawn. He’d found a creek not far from where he sat. He wondered if the tadpoles had yet grown legs.

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And now, my excited rambling: the title of the poem before the cut is Notes On Waiting for the Dog to Find the Perfect Place to Take a Shit While Morning Cuts Through the Sky, Fresh From Another Darkness, which is quite possibly one of Abdurraqib's best titles and also a wonderful poem. I saw When I Say Loving Me Is Like Being a Chicago Bulls Fan posted on facebook at one point and I've been in love with his poetry since. The way he weaves pain and hope with his anger and his love in a way that criticizes a society that doesn't value himself or people like him, while celebrating his identity is both masterful and cutting. Listen to the man and buy his books! His essay collection, A Little Devil in America: In Praise of Black Performance is going to be my read for my essay collection square for the 2025 book bingo, and I'm really excited to finally get to it!

#in my own words #cbc bhm challenge #wip: the name. witch #oc: uthyr kri’asphodel #i have tried to post this 5 million times before i found out that it wasnt posting because it didnt like all of uthyr's scene indented #which i personally do not find aesthetically pleasing but whatever #also shout out to miss ice for all the info about protective styles and the process for locs #at the start of this story his hair's doing great and the lessons on her blog are the reason it stays that way the whole book

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