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pascaloverx · 6 months 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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sixosix · 1 year 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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eunimaybe · 1 month 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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unabashednightmarepizza · 1 year 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 · 1 year 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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vinyls-and-valentines · 6 months ago

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There are several common misconceptions city folk have when first settling into the Zones.

The first, is that masks are meant to protect the living. While living under constant surveillance, it is perhaps only natural to find solace in the impression of anonymity provided by face coverings such as masks, helmets, and bandanas, and even more cynical types who claim their purpose is to obfuscate what little presence BL/i does nurture amidst the harsh desert winds— however, these are nothing more than outsiders' views on matters that had not previously concerned them. The truth is, in fact, much simpler: masks are talismans, and bargaining chips of the dead— they prove there once was someone who cherished them and whom they in turn swore to protect. No one can return from the dead without renouncing some part of themselves, and when dealing with something as strongly entwined with one's identity as a mask, it is one last chance for forgiveness or retribution.

The second most common misconception amongst newcomers, is that all information shared voluntarily is shared without ill intent. It is undeniable that skill and information are what constitute power both sides of the wall, and that the latter is often freely shared amongst those willing to stand their ground against Better Living as a form of leverage, but unlike the City which has had its bare bones exposed, ground down, and then rebuilt inside-out in the crater of something far larger than any atomic bomb, the Zones are alive. Alive in a way which goes far beyond the roads spreading like veins and arteries beneath fallow land. Alive in a way which alludes even the conscious component of a place brimming with the unknown and unexplainable where the line between one's perception and physical reality is drawn thin. Alive in a way that is cold and uncaring, and which if exposed would be enough to drive even the most devout believers and cynical scholars mad. It is truth which makes the sharpest blade, afterall.

The third and final misconception many new zonerunners hold to be true, is that numbers are a liability. While undeniable that resources in the Zones are scarce and that it's more difficult to move as a group rather than an individual, to treat one's life as merely an extension of their escape from the clutches of Battery City is no better than to pen their name on their own death certificate. There is of course the practical aspect of desert community as well; although scattered like dandelion seeds in the wind, killjoys often come together for events such as parties, races, concerts and markets, and even on more mundane occasions there are more than a handful of crews loitering about Tommy Chow Mein's or slumbering sharehouses and bars. Information travels fast within groups and although there is such a thing as too much, patrol routes and standing commissions will always be made known on the ground before the airwaves. Solitude may be effective while running, but rest is always better shared with those you've come to trust

#my specialty these days are hit-and-run headcanons apparently #i hit you with a wall of 500+ words and then run back to my silly little anime and manga not to be heard from again for 3 months and up #danger days #killjoys #ttlotfk #the zones #worldbuilding #zone headcanons #unreality #<- jic

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months ago

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Silver, Azul: Equal Parts Noble and Naive

... Why's he making a Malleus "r u lost bby ghorl" face while also copying Lilia's chin-in-hand pose/Malleus’s Dorm Uniform pose 🤡 There's another Malleus parallel in the vignettes; Silver comments on the same Philip-Aurora dancing painting (that is shown in Malleus's Groovy) and says that he took up dancing too since he admired the prince. Boy was ready for GloMasq/j Malleus glaring at the happy couple and Silver determined to stand firm against a fearsome foe... ;v;

I don’t know if I should be concerned or not given the Groovy and potential foreshadowing for book 7 😂 since there’s fan theories about how Silver could be the “sword” that slays the dragon… *rubs hands together* but it would be fun if it happened…

Fun fact about this Groovy: it had to be corrected because during the initial drop the devs forgot Silver's eyeshadow www The first time this mistake happened, I believe it was on Platinum Suit Vil's chibi.

A Tale as Old as Time.

There was a magic to two sets of parallel lines, bound together to form a quadrilateral. A great number of things could be contained within it. Upon a storybook's page or a painter's canvas, endless possibilities and mystical beings.

Silver gazed at one now.

A spindly dragon, horned and with massive spines protruding from its back, was poised in a platinum frame. Its belly was a violent shock of violet, its scales black as the night. Leathery wings splayed, gaping maw glowing green, trails of smoke exuding from its nostrils, the fearsome beast was prepared to strike down any warrior foolish enough to approach it.

"This is the Thorn Fairy in her dragon form," Silver murmured, his expression set in seriousness. "I'd always dreamed of seeing it for myself someday."

"How wonderful that your dream has now become a reality," a slick voice crooned. It belonged to Azul, who had sidled up to him like an all-too-eager used car salesman. "Ah, but you seem to be troubled. What ails you?"

“It's just... for the Thorn Fairy to have assumed this form, it means she felt as though she was in danger. Someone may have threatened her or put her in this situation."

“That’s true.” Azul nodded. “As I recall from our Magic History lectures, fae tend to be reclusive creatures with rather tumultuous relations with other races.

“In the days when magic was branded as heresy, fae were particularly ostracized due to their natural affinity for it. Humans far and away wide feared them. It's possible that this painting depicts a struggle of a similar nature."

“A struggle…” The corners of Silver’s mouth turned down. “Yes, humans and fae have historically been at odds with one another. We are fortunate to live during an era of relative peace."

“Quite! My own people—the merfolk—have also had a strained relationship with humans. It was through the union of a mermaid princess and a human prince that we were able to begin efforts to mend that bond. I am most gracious to them! It is because of the mermaid princess that I’m afforded the opportunity to study on land.”

“That’s great, Azul. I’m happy for you.” Silver gave a smile that was as softy and airy as dandelion fluff. “It’s nice that we’re able to meet and share ideas with people from different walks of life. It makes the world a richer place.”

He looked to the painting again, his eyes tracing the curved horns of the dragon and stopping at the sharp tips. His liege, too, had a pair like those.

“… As much as I hate to admit it, it will be a while before fae and humans can reach that level of understanding." Silver folded his arms. "Sebek says the differences are too numerous, but I… I want to believe that we are capable of bringing about that kind of a future.”

His vision, so clear, so pure. It sparkled like the face of a polished mirror.

Azul pushed his glasses up, his hand concealing a smirk.

"Fufufu. Perhaps it is possible to achieve with your endless optimism and empathy, Silver-san. After all, I don't believe I've witnessed you losing your cool even once with Malleus-san, Lilia-san, or Sebek-san. That kindness and patience is your strength, stronger than any sword you could wield."

He pretended to hesitate. "Though... I do wonder what should happen if--no, never mind. Please forget that I said anything."

"What is it? You can tell me," Silver reassured him. Dread surged up from his stomach--but the spike soon settled.

"Well--" Azul made a little show of choosing his words carefully, as though he were thoroughly coming through ingredients lined up on a shelf. "Consider: what happens if the day comes when you are forced to point your sword at your master?"

"At Malleus-sama?! I can't imagine..."

"If, if. This is entirely hypothetical," his peer tutted. "Let us say that Malleus-san were to make a decision--a decision which has dire consequences for you, for all of humankind. Silver-san, would you be able to salvage that precarious peace?"

Surprise lasted for a second before it vanished from the knight. Back was a quiet stoicism, steel sharpening the delicate colors to his gaze. A hand clenching his chest, as if to keep his heart still.

Finally, he spoke.

"I will do what has to be done. I will not back down. If there comes a time when my lord strays from his path and into the darkness, then it is my duty as his retainer to return him to the light."

“And you are not concerned for what awaits you in the aftermath?”

“No,” Silver replied matter-of-factly. The answer was simple. “I will offer my hand.”

“I beg your pardon?! Am I hearing this correctly? You plan to help the person you just opposed back up after you defeat them?”

“That’s the right thing to do. Everyone deserves a chance for their feelings to be heard. If we listen, then we can find a solution together and keep the same misunderstanding from happening again. That’s my hope.”

His wish was like the buoyant notes of a bell. Clear, crisp, resonant. It flitted up, rising above the boys’ heads, at last bursting like a bubble and letting the words rain down on them in thoughtful flecks.

"… I see,” Azul mused. “So that is the type of person you are."

How noble. How naive. It seems that Silver-san is a very bit like the prince from the story he so deeply cherishes. Neither will recoil from foes, no matter how formidable.

The valuable piece of information, he tucked away for a rainy day. With his probing settled, Azul brought his hands together and flashed a winsome grin.

Here was a hero in the making, and he, the sponsor to the champion.

“Your character is commendable!! I look forward to witnessing your many friendship-fueled triumphs.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Silver #Azul Ashengrotto #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #spoilers #something no one asked for #Silver birthday takeover #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios

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fangirleaconmigo · 2 years ago

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It's been awhile, Geralt x Jaskier enthusiasts, but here is your newest installment of...

Otherwise known as...

Things that sound like Geraskier fic writers made them up, but that are, in fact, book canon.

This time with commentary on the original Polish wording from @cherrypoison1889! Thanks, Cherry!

Today we're talking about dopplers, otherwise known as shape shifters, also called vexlings in the world of The Witcher. Dopplers are often used to expose the fact that Dandelion is a vulnerability for Geralt, that he loves him.

There are quite a few Geraskier fics that play with this trope. (I will give you a rec or two at the end of the post.)

It makes sense! Plus, the show used a doppler, (more on that later) so the concept is right there!

But does the concept of using a doppler to reveal Geralt's true feelings for Jaskier just exist in the fevered imagination of Geraskier fic writers?? Is this pure fanon? Or canon?

Well, you may have guessed (since I didn't write all this out for my health!)...

It is canon.

In The Witcher book, Sword of Destiny, we meet a doppler called Dudu, who turns into Dandelion (Jaskier) to protect himself from Geralt. He even has a few choice words to say about what he sees in Geralt's thoughts.

Want the details? Of course you do, you've read this far, why not?

When Geralt meets Dudu in this story, the doppler is in the form of a halfling called Dainty Biberveldt. Dudu has bonked Dainty on the head, stolen his shit, taken his form, and is running around Novigrad making business deals with his ill gotten gains.

Dainty wants his shit back from the doppler, but does not want to turn Dudu over to the city guards because Dainty is a decent person who knows that they will murder the doppler in an absolutely horrific way that I will not describe to you. Novigrad is rife with violent bigotry towards non humans, and dopplers in particular have been slaughtered to near extinction. They've been subject to genocide, basically, just because they creep people out. (I could write a thesis just on the way this short story handles themes of racism)

But anywho. That's how we get Geralt's involvement. Geralt is pitching in to get Dudu under control so they don't have to involve bigoted law enforcement. (We stan Dainty ACAB Biberveldt in this house)

This particular scene opens when Geralt has pursued the doppler into a crowded marketplace and has finally cornered him in a tent. Dandelion is elsewhere in the market, being a slut, so he is nowhere to be seen. When Geralt corners Dudu, they are alone, and the doppler panics. He can't get away. So, he decides to be crafty.

First, he turns into Geralt as a way to protect himself. The book describes Dudu changing into Geralt, down to the last detail. Now there are two identical witchers in the tent. Then Dudu speaks.

"Don't come any closer," the second witcher said huskily and smiled. "Don't come any nearer, Geralt. I won't let you lay your hands on me."

So now he looks just like Geralt and has his husky voice. Perhaps he is hoping Geralt will not be able to harm someone who looks like himself. Perhaps he just wants to be equal to him physically.

Either way, Geralt's self esteem is too low for the first one to work. Here is how Geralt responds to an exact copy of himself.

"What a hideous smile I have," thought Geralt, reaching for his sword. "What a hideous face I have. And how hideously I squint? So is that what I look like? Damn."

So, Geralt reaches for his sword immediately, and the only reaction he has for himself is disgust.

Here is where I asked Cherry for her thoughts. Is Geralt as mean to himself in the original Polish? Hideous is pretty strong a word! Here is what she said:

Cherrypoison1889: Geralt is indeed very harsh on himself, when he sees the doppler transform into him. In Polish, he uses the word "paskudne" to describe himself, which is literally hideous. However, he also calls his face "gęba" which is a more vulgar word for face, which in Polish is "Twarz". So he's even harsher on himself, I'd say.

Oh noooo. But just when you think Geralt's low self esteem is going to be a strategic advantage, it betrays him. Why? Because when Dudu says, you can't defeat me, because I am you and I know everything you know...

"I am you," the doppler repeated. "you will not gain an advantage over me. You cannot defeat me, because I am you!"

That is where Geralt starts to lose ground. Why? Because Geralt of Rivia says, no, you can't really copy me! Because you are a good person, and I'm a bad bad bad man. I kill people. I'm a killer. You cannot relate. You cannot even begin to understand the mind of a bad evil killer man like me.

"No," the witcher countered, "you are not. And do you know why? Because you're a poor, little, good-natured doppler. A doppler who, after all, could have killed Biberveldt and buried his body in the undergrowth, by so doing gaining total safety and utter certainty that he would not be unmasked, ever, by anybody....But you didn't kill him...Because you're a poor, little, good-natured doppler, whose close friends call him Dudu...you only know how to copy what is good in us, because you don't understand the bad in us."

Geralt isn't saying this to be strategic. He truly believes it! He knows Dudu has seen his thoughts! Listen to what he says next...

"you aren't capable of defying me, because I am what you are unable of copying (sic). You are absolutely aware of this, Dudu. Because you took over my thoughts for a moment."

So, Geralt is like, you saw what a mess it was in there. You know what a killer I am. You may as well give up now.

I thought 'took over my thoughts' was a little bit of an awkward phrasing, it almost implies thought control, when I feel like the context is thought reading, so I asked Cherry about that. She said:

Cherrypoison1889: As for the "taking thoughts over" bit, it is the same in Polish, I am afraid. the word Sapko uses is "przejąć" which means exactly that, although I assume that the "take over" in English was meant to be understood as "acquiring" although I can't be sure of that. It sure does sound a touch awkward.

But back to the story, Tellico (Dudu) has now been inside Geralt's head. So he knows that's absolute bullshit, even if Geralt doesn't. He has seen what is in Geralt's heart, which prompts him to take another shape.

Tellico straightened up abruptly. His face's features, still those of the Witcher, blurred and spread out, and his white hair curled and began to darken.

"You're right, Geralt," he said indistinctly, because his lips had begun to change shape. "I took over your thoughts. Only briefly, but it was sufficient. Do you know what I'm going to do now?"

Do you? Do you dear reader, know what he's going to do now? I'm going to let you make a guess.

The leather witcher jacket took on a glossy, cornflower blue colour. The doppler smiled, straightened his plum bonnet with its egret's feather, and tightened the strap of the lute slung over his shoulder, the lute which had been a sword a moment ago.

Well, if you've read the books up to this point, we all know who's form he has taken. Cornflower blue, egret's feather, lute....smart doppler.

"I'll tell you what I"m going to do, Witcher," he said, with the rippling laughter characteristic of Dandelion. "I'll go on my way, squeeze my way into the crowd and change quietly into any old body, even a beggar. Because I prefer being a beggar in Novigrad to being a doppler in the wilds."

He then has a powerful monologue about being subject to extermination and genocide. About hunger and fear and freezing to death. He makes a very touching plea to Geralt, asking the Witcher why he is denied the right of survival, granted to everyone else, just because he is a doppler. It is about a page and half long and I HIGHLY recommend people read Sword of Destiny, because this is good shit. He says he will stay in Novigrad.

"As a resident of Novigrad, I'll trade, weave wicker baskets, beg or steal; as one of you I'll do what one of you usually does...."

The Witcher said nothing.

Now, Dudu, in Dandelion's shape, having seen Geralt's thoughts, takes his gamble. And boy does he have guts. He tells Geralt about himself, about his supposed bad bad heart.

"Yes, as I said," Tellico continued calmly. "I'm going. And you, Geralt, will not even try to stop me. Because I, Geralt, knew your thoughts for a moment. Including the ones you don't want to admit to, the ones you even hide from yourself. Because to stop me you'd have to kill me. And the thought of killing me in cold blood fills you with disgust doesn't it?

The Witcher said nothing.

Tellico adjusted the strap of his lute again, turned away and walked towards the exit. He walked confidently, but Geralt saw him hunch his neck and shoulders in expectation of the whistle of a sword blade. He put his sword in his scabbard. The doppler stopped in mid-step and looked around.

"Farewell", Geralt, he said. "Thank you."

"Farewell, Dudu," the Witcher replied. "Good luck."

Dudu wins that one, quite handily.

The doppler turned away and headed towards the crowded bazaar, with Dandelion's sprightly, cheerful, swinging gait. Like Dandelion, he swung his left arm vigorously, and just like Dandelion he grinned at the wenches as he passed them.

As he walks away, Dudu even plays the lute and sings "exactly like Dandelion". Then he shouts back advice for Geralt to pass on to the bard.

"Pass that on to Dandelion, if you remember," he called. "And tell him that Winter is a lousy title. The ballad should be called The Eternal Fire. Farewell, Witcher."

Dudu has seen Geralt's thoughts EVEN THE ONES HE WILL NOT ADMIT TO EVEN THE ONES HE HIDES FROM HIMSELF, and his next choice was to turn into Dandelion.

Now, do I think that the author meant to imply that Geralt is trying to hide his love of Dandelion? No. Slim chance of that. However, it isn't like it's a secret that Geralt hates killing creatures who do no harm or who cannot fight back. So there is still something a bit fuzzy to me about the thoughts that Geralt hides from himself.

It is ripe territory for a Geralt x Dandelion enjoyer to exploit, cultivate, and use for their fics and headcanons.

I asked Cherry for her thoughts about this, about what Geralt's hidden thoughts are having read the original Polish, and she said this:

Cherrypoison1889:

I feel like Dudu used Geralt's self-loathing against him, in a way. As in, if Geralt were to kill Dudu-as-Dandy, he would admit to himself that he is a ruthless, horrible person, who kills "intelligent" beings, despite what he claims, which would also make him a hypocrite. And we know Geralt is a big softie, so he wouldn't do it anyway. I think changing into Dandy was an additional precaution, just an extra measure in case Dudu turned out to be wrong.

I really liked this story, I don't remember reading it back when I read the books (it was ages ago, so I might be wrong anyway). It's really funny, and Geralt is babbie. Darling boy, he just bought himself a new jacket and it got ruined in the frenzy...

Babbie Geralt, that's our darling.

It is sad that Geralt has so much self loathing that it didn't help Dudu to look like him, but it is very sweet that Dandelion is such a point of vulnerability for Geralt, and that Dudu had his number.

Dudu wins this round soundly. The story isn't over. I won't spoil it in case you guys want to read it. But it has a great ending. It is definitely one of my favorites.

I will just never get over how easily he gets the upper hand on Geralt here. Geralt of Rivia, legendary monster hunter, defeated by little Dudu because of his low self worth, his mushy heart, his solidarity with non humans, and his love of a slutty bard.

Now, recommendations.

The Doppler Effect, by @a-kind-of-merry-war This is the first doppler fic I read in the fandom and it has alll the delicious emotional drama, pining, and sexiness that you want from a fic like this. It is excellent.

Images of You, by @pherryt This one is a delightful 'continuation' of what happens in Sword of Destiny. After Dudu learns about Geralt's feelings, he essentially matchmakes Geralt and Dandelion eventually receiving a sexy thank-you of his own.

Them, by @gilligangoodfellow I feel like dopplers and Dudu in particular is so ripe for exploration in fic. So it is wonderful to see a fic like this. It's a short character study of Dudu as gender fluid, with the doppler coming out to Zoltan. Seriously, try it.

Alright, thanks for reading, folks!

For more Geralt and Dandelion "I can't believe it's not fanon..."stay tuned. I am organizing a master post with all of the posts I've done. So keep your eyes out. (in the mean time, most of them seem to show up in the tag, just not all of them)

And lastly, THANK YOU CHERRY! I love having a partner to do these posts with!!

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #geraskier #gerlion #the witcher books #i can't believe it's not fanon #canon or fanon

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kavehnanginto · 2 years ago

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if you hold me without hurting me (you’ll be the first to ever did)

pairings: childe, diluc, kaeya, kaveh

synopsis: life was nothing but pain, from the past to the present, it all bleaks of lost dreams and broken records of what life should’ve been. and now that you’re here they wonder if you too is but a temporary moment of happiness that turns into a melancholic memory

tags: depressed boys, again, trust issues abt u, mentions of death, mommy kinda leave kaveh, thats so sad, their parents kinda died, daddy issues, HEAVY CAPITALIZATION ON DADDY ISSUES, lana del rey song mhm, there is some fluff, please trust me

CHILDE is, for you, the nicest man you have ever met. A gentleman who gave you flowers and showered you with love. But it didn’t matter that he loved you that much, because no matter he will always be in your heart. Maybe in some instances you fought, you apologized, just like any other couple.

But he was not like any other man.

You knew who he was, and the violent nature that he stands for. Although you never saw, you always hear his new target, his new schemes and… with that comes bursts of reassurance of your love, undying love, loyalty to him. The cycle repeats, and even the hundredth time, he will always hug you tight afraid you will go.

And with that you always hug him back.

Some say that such a man was so hard to love, but his lopsided grin, his cute gestures—they had no idea who he was on your view. Maybe it was just facade, or maybe this was the actual him they never saw. But it doesn’t matter. You were his first love, the one who showed him what true and unconditional love is.

And just like his family—he intends to keep your innocence over these matters, and he intends to love you forever.

“It’s okay to let me go… but please say the reason. I’ll give you all of me, all I want is for that to be enough.”

DILUC is a highly respected bachelor in Mondstadt. But to you, he is but a fragile dandelion drifting in the wind. The warmth, the silence and the breeze of the wind were most of the moments you spend with him. He sometimes wondered if this childlike domestic happiness is some fever dream, a sweet lullaby kissing him in the forehead.

Just like the sweet innocence of childhood, the nostalgia was coming back to him. You offered him something more, something deeper and something real than a nostalgic feeling, but never did the maids of Dawn Winery saw Master Diluc running once again at the lake with a smile on his face running to you. Being with you.

You.

With all the years alone, his house simply a tool to help with his daily necessities, you changed it all. You were something to believe in, that he was worth all this joy, that he was worth something. That even with the pain, the deaths, the heartaches he think he rightfully deserves, this one glimmer of happiness the Gods gave him, this beautiful soul that was cursed to love him and he was blessed to love as well.

Without hurt, without pain, someone went into his life and willing to stay.

“The sound of the fire never gives me warmth in winters, perhaps having one more person is why I no longer feel so cold.”

KAEYA never really had a moment in his life that he believed that someone was going to stay. And he too believed that when he first saw you. Even with new memories, even when the years went and go he truly thought that you too will go away. Such preciousness of a pearl was no match for him, rusting and broken. Fixed only to be cut and sold. Used and mended.

Everyone had their own idea of what the Cavalry Captain is really like. A womanizer. An alcoholic. Manipulative. . But Kaeya never minded the roles that society wanted him to play, rather embracing the accusations of his characters. But one thing that seemed to be true in all the gossips around the town is that he hold his secrets pretty well. Too well.

Even too you. You never really wanted to know, there’s this nagging feeling in your mind that he still not trusts you. After all, life can always go backwards but even so your lips will be sealed. That’s a promise you are willing to keep forever.

His eye. His life. He trusts you with his life, he gives you everything you wanted but maybe it wasn’t worth it to answer all of your questions maybe? Maybe he too believed that you too will drift like the wind, just like his past, or maybe it’s him, like a ship sinking in the seas that even with all these things he wants to say, he didn’t want to break that trust and love you had. That love he wants to hold, the person he wants to cherish for a lifetime.

He’ll do anything for you, and his secrets will only harm you even if you know deep down inside that he was harming you too.

“The day you learn the truth, is maybe the day we’ll bid adieu.”

KAVEH was kind, perhaps too much. He treats you so good, even when he doesn’t have enough. That was simply his character, always asking if you’re okay, if you want this or do that. For you, he was simply an angel who fell on earth. A beautiful person who longed to play and create, art and festive.

And perhaps that too was a facade. You find him once crying over a box of toys, and there you cried with him too. It was not important as to why he cried but making him happy, for his joy was one that made the vines grow in the old trees and the one that even rain could never cover. He told you what happened, his past, his “sins” and there you never realized what he was going through.

But that doesn’t mean you can be here for him from now. Kaveh, who blamed everything on himself, could never really grasp how understanding you are. Listening to his words, crying his tears—like that of a little boy finding his peace. That he never found, now as a tall child searching for answers. But still apologizing when he answers. How can he deserve to be loved without hurt. To confess his crimes and be rewarded with a bouquet of flowers.

He longed to be loved, but now he believes that for someone to hold him tight this lonely night, his chest no longer felt so heavy. His heart no longer felt so tight. As now, it is whole for you.

“Sleep tight, and may you rest in a blooming new day, sweetheart.”

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moraxsthrone · 1 year ago

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⌈ WIN-WIN ⌋

⌈ pairing ⌋ kaeya alberich x f!reader

⌈ wc ⌋ 1.1k

⌈ warnings/notes ⌋ nsfw. MDNI. alcohol consumption. bet sex...for science. this was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being over 1k words 😩.

you’ve been drinking with kaeya and a few other friends at angel’s share one night. you’ve all had a few and it’s getting pretty late, but the lively conversation you’ve been having with kaeya is starting to get even more interesting. your other friends have already tapped out for the night, leaving just the two of you to continue your light-hearted debate.

what had started as a harmless, serious discussion about the female orgasm’s potential role in evolution had quickly gotten personal.

“...that’s not necessarily true, kaeya," you interject. "some women simply can’t cum from penetration alone.”

“you think so?”

“oh, i know so. for example, no guy has ever made me cum from penetration alone.” before you can stop yourself, the words are already on the table. maybe it's time to cut yourself off...

“oh? how unfortunate.” his frown is genuine. “perhaps they were all shitty lovers.”

“all of them?...”

he shrugs, barely concealing his intrigue.

a bemused chuckle leaves your lips. “that’s certainly one theory, but until my theory is disproved, i’ll maintain that it’s simply not possible for all women...myself included.”

“care to put our respective theories to the test and see which of us emerges victorious?”

“but how? who would…oh. oh. you mean…”

the corner of kaeya’s lips curve upward into a wicked grin and you almost spit your drink out. you’ve had a crush on kaeya since the first time you laid eyes on him, but you laugh, waving his audacious dare off as mere banter because he must be joking.

only, you realize he’s not kidding when he raises an eyebrow at you with an unwavering gaze.

“wait. are you trying to bed me, kaeya?” not that you're about to turn him down.

turning his palms up, he shrugs with a smirk before meeting your eyes again. “just wanna prove to you that you’re wrong.” he leans in, making all your body heat rise to your face as he speaks so quietly that only you can hear him. “how about this? if i can make you cum with my dick alone, you’ll buy my drinks next time. if not, all your drinks are on me.”

you give it careful consideration, hoping that your tipsy state is enough to trick him into thinking the flustered heat on your face is from the alcohol and not at all from his brazen forthrightness. you maintain eye contact with him as you take the last swig from your glass and set it down on the table before standing up.

“you’re on, mr. alberich.”

“your place or mine?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

“mine.”

the cavalry captain smiles, leaning back in his chair, his cock stirring at the sight of your thighs rubbing together as you walk to the bar to square up your bill. feeling his impending erection, he figures now is a good time to do the same before his arousal becomes impossible to conceal. after laying his mora on the bar, kaeya walks with you to the door. he pushes the door open in front of you, the cool early spring air kissing your cheeks, making you wonder if his lips will feel the same.

…

kaeya behaves like a perfect gentleman as he walks you home. once you both cross the threshold of your door, however, things begin to quickly change.

the knight barely closes the door behind himself when he moves in close and cups your jaw. “may i kiss you?” he whispers, his voice almost as sweet as the dandelion wine on his breath.

“please~” you sigh.

your lips meld together, tongues seeking each other out as kaeya backs you up against the nearest wall. his lips trail down the graceful column of your neck, relishing the aftertaste of your sweat from angel’s share. you grip his dark blue hair as you roll your head back, aware of his thumbs digging into the flesh around your hip bones.

you somehow manage to direct him towards your bedroom while making out, leaving a messy trail of discarded clothes along the way.

one thing leads to another and next thing you know, you find yourself on your back with your legs in the air. in the dim light of your bedroom, while kaeya strokes himself before pressing his blunt tip to your needy opening, you notice that his full erection is long and a bit thicker than average with an upward curve - perfect for g-spot fucking. your long-time crush lifts your ass off the bed, an ankle in each hand as his naked thighs soon begin to slap against your soft, moist skin.

now your wet pussy is slurping noisily on his shaft as the bulging ridge of his cockhead rubs vigorously against your sweet spot. kaeya’s heels are digging into his cute butt cheeks with every thrust of his narrow hips, conflicted because he wants to throw his head back in ecstasy but also watch every inch of your face and body as he fucks your orgasm out of you, hands-free.

the firm head of his dick beats against your g-spot, making you feel so full, every nerve ending in your cunt standing at his attention. one of his hands moves to push your thigh further back as he plants the other one against the mattress to anchor and give himself leverage to fuck your g-spot at a new angle. your eyes roll back in your head. you dig your nails into kaeya's hard thighs as they ride against yours, trying and failing to stop his name from spilling from your lips as he fucks you towards the edge of oblivion. the ridge of his thick cockhead is dragging perfectly over all the right spots inside you. you’re keening, back arching, legs shaking. your body would be twisting except kaeya’s warm hands are pulling on your hips, keeping you right where he wants you. his dark-skinned balls are tightening too; he’s starting to think he might actually lose your bet when you sharply gasp his name.

“k-kaeya?” the tightening of your walls accompanies the spilling of his name from your lips. “you- oh fuck - you’re gonna make me cum! kaeya!”

“that’s it, let go…cum for me, y/n~” he breathes, his syllables broken somewhat by the power of his own thrusts.

and just like that, without touching your clit, kaeya alberich tears down your walls and makes you come apart all around him. it's unlike any orgasm you’ve ever had before…deeper and more intense than any other - including the ones you’ve given yourself.

you're still riding out your high when the cavalry captain lets your feet fall so he can anchor himself to the bed with his arms on either side of you, caging you in as he dips his head to kiss a path from your lips to your collarbone. your gasps of his name only fuel the fire that rages wildly in his loins, finally snapping the tightly-wound coil deep inside his full balls.

“hnn- fuck, y/n,” he sighs loudly. “gonna cum…ohfuckgonnacumsofuckinghard…” wet slapping noises fill the room as your quivering cunt drives him over the edge… “~ahhhh fuck yes~”

he quickly pulls out, cum already shooting from his slit to paint your twitching pussy and lower belly white with his thick seed. he thrusts his narrow hips a couple more times in time with the spurts of his hot cum throbbing from his deep purple cockhead.

he lets out a breathy chuckle as his hooded, pussy-drunk eye lays into yours.

“looks like you’re buying next time.”

kaeya m.list

much love and many kithkith to 18+ rebloggers, commenters, likers, and followers !!

#kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x f!reader #kaeya alberich x f!reader #kaeya smut #kaeya alberich smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x f!reader #genshin impact x f!reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

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liyawritesss · 10 months ago

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ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ３－Ｆｌｏｗｅｒｓ

－ Dandelions - 1610!Miles Morales - Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse

－ In which Miles makes a wish on a dandelion flower he finds peeking out from the schools garden.

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

Miles remembers the white puffy flowers he’d often see peeking out from the sidewalks in his neighborhood. He remembers the silly myth his parents told him at that tender age, where mystic and wonder was still the core of his innocence. Blow onto a dandelion and make a wish, and it’ll come true so long as you have faith in it.

He’d made many dandelion wishes in his childhood, but this one had to have been the silliest amongst them. He didn’t know which was more embarrassing; the fact that he was making a wish on a dandelion that seemed to survive the winter cold and be the first sign of spring to grace Visions Academy, or the fact that what he had wished for was among the most childish of things he’d ever done.

Yet, here he was, bent down at the knees in front of the school garden, holding the intact dandelion in his hand, twisting it around and examining it, the imagery of his crush sneaking into his mind as he did so.

It was childish, silly, downright embarrassing what he had wished for, and yet, he still did it. The evidence being the now empty dandelion head and the pieces of white wisp flowing into the cool spring breeze. Perhaps there was an inkling of childish hope in him that wondered if such a wish would come true - if his wish for his crush to notice him would actually come to fruition if he’d manifested the little bit of childhood magic he held onto for times like these, where hope was diminishing and he had no other avenues to turn to.

He didn’t believe it would work. He discarded the empty stem and made his way back to his dorm room afterwards, not thinking much of the subject. His evening was spent doing homework and arguing with Ganke on how to beat the Tetris level he was stuck on. Before the night was over, Miles had forgotten about the dandelion and the wish he made.

Then, the next day, as he was exiting his third period, he was reminded of it when he saw you approach him. It crept up on him like a spider on a wall, the realization coming after a conversation was sparked between the two of you.

“You’re Miles, right? From World History?” You said, and the boy has to remind himself what speaking is and how to do so, his voice coming out high-pitched from his anxiety.

“Y-yeah, yep! That’s me!”

“I knew you looked familiar!” You said with a smile, and Miles feels like he should be dreaming, but the weakness in his knees lets him know he is well awake and struggling against everything in the universe to not make a fool of himself.

“I know you’re a super science wiz,” you begin, “I’m ashamed to say I’m not as good as most of the kids here are when it comes to STEM.” What? You have a flaw? Impossible, he thinks, as he watches you shift your weight, a hint of nervousness in your voice. “Maybe I can tutor you in history sometime, if you’re willing to give me some pointers for my science class?”

There is nothing in the world that would get Miles to trust his voice after such an encounter; so he nods with a confirming hum to your proposal, and that seems to satisfy you enough, as a triumphant smile graces your lips.

“Great!” You chime, “See you around, Miles!”

The second you turn your back to leave, Miles Morales becomes a puddle of overwhelming emotions, heart thumping like a hammer against a wall, his school uniform suddenly becoming too hot to bear. He just talked to his crush, and didn’t make a complete fool of himself. Maybe that wish was worth something after all.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

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noellerain · 1 year ago

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Antithetical ♡ [suguru x afab!reader]

noe: this man is living rent-free in my mind for days now so you can consider this fic a brainrot/love letter to this gorgeous son of a bitch.

Warnings: [ DEAD DOVE! ] dark smut, noncon/rape (reader to Suguru), somnophilia (reader to Suguru), femdom, babytrapping (reader to Suguru), profanities (vulgar words), intoxication, spitting, implied that Suguru is drugged but not by the reader, obsessive behavior (reader to Suguru), proofread once, Gojo has a cameo lol, just over all madness. [LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED SOMETHING! THANK YOU!]

+ BLOCK, DON'T REPORT!

[If you read the warnings then proceed to click/press the cut button, you consent on reading the dark material below.]

Suguru Geto is midnight personified. His jet-black hair reminds you of the night sky when it's void of the moon and the stars. His eyes are blackholes that can consume your entirety if you look hard and long enough. His scent smells like the Earth after rain: a unique, addicting scent that makes your stomach flip yet still brings you a sense of warm melancholia.

Suguru Geto is way out of your league. You know that. But while everyone is fawning over his annoying best friend, Satoru, your love-struck eyes are fixated on that enigma of a man. Just one look, whether it's intentional or in passing, can shake and blow you away like the flimsy petals of dandelions.

Tonight, as you stand in the dark corner of Satoru's living room while everyone else drinks and dances to the rhythm of the song booming from the speakers, the walls seem to close in on you.

There he is, sitting on the couch with his arm around a girl. His hair is up in its usual bun; tresses hanging on the side of his face. He's wearing a simple white shirt and black cargo pants. The simplicity amplifies his good looks.

They say that he and Satoru are two different sides of the same coin. Satoru's boisterous personality is on the face; one look at him and your alarm immediately goes off. Meanwhile, Suguru's serenity is the reason why he catches people off-guard when his true colors show.

He is a fucking mastermind. He plays the good guy role; carefully making the bed and patiently inviting his victim to lay down on it. Perhaps that's their difference: Satoru's always in a rush, his thirst never quenches. Suguru, on the other hand, takes his time. You conclude that it makes the game more enjoyable to him. That sweet, sweet reward of fucking someone dumb after all the efforts you exert may be Suguru's personal brand of drugs.

He leans closer to the girl, whispering something in her ear. She laughs and the bubbling jealousy in your chest tastes more bitter than the liquor you're currently drinking in a red cup.

It's a vicious cycle of his. For two years now, you've been nothing but a bystander. Always in the corners, watching. You've seen him lay out an elaborate plan, working his way down to different women's panties. When he finally gets what he wants, he puts his pants up and throws them away like ragdolls. Then he puts his façade— back to square one again and again and again.

Your face contorts into a frown when he smoothly puts his hand on the girl's knee. From your perspective, it looks unintentional; like his hand just happens to be there. She smirks at him, obviously enjoying the situation she's in. Your eyes narrow on his long, slender fingers, now gently rubbing her skin. It's fucking funny how life slaps you in the face over and over; there he is, the object of your obsession, sitting next to someone else, to anyone else, to everyone else but you.

His fingers slide up her thigh and give them a squeeze; the hem of her miniskirt bunches up on her lap. Your mind is beginning to go into overdrive. It's so unfair. So fucking unfair. What do others have that you don't? You take a big gulp on your drink.

"Oh? What a pleasant surprise!" Satoru's loud voice snaps your mind to sanity; your soul back to the dark corner where you're standing.

You look up at him as he strides lazily over to you, a red cup in his hand as well. He's wearing a tight black shirt and jeans that hang loosely around his waist. "I don't usually see you at my parties. What's a pretty girl doin' here in the dark?"

He leans against the wall and takes a big gulp on his drink. You don't humor his attempt for a chat. You can still feel your simmering envy as you look down on the brownish liquid in your cup.

"Not gonna entertain me, huh?" He laughs; an annoying sound that grinds your ears. "I understand, though. After all, I have a better vision than my best friend over there."

You whip your head to him, confusion all over your face. Heart beating loudly in your chest at the mention of Suguru, his one and only friend. Your lips are pursed and your brows are deeply furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He drinks again, his electric blue eyes glimmering with malice. When he puts down his cup on his side, he gives you an impish smirk. "Heh. Watch."

He pushes himself off of the wall and begins to walk away. But before he's beyond your earshot, he yells: "Second floor, last room on the West wing!"

You roll your eyes. As usual, Satoru is a menace. A baffling menace. You do not get a single word he says and you have no plans on trying. After all, guys like him are meant to be heard, not to be listened to.

Your eyes go back to Suguru. He's still on the couch but fortunately, his hands are now off the girls' body. Instead, he's pressing his forehead with his thumb while his eyes are shut tight as the girl next to him continues to babble away. The sight strikes some chords in your heart. You notice the creased skin between his forehead. It only goes away temporarily when Satoru appears and hands him a red cup.

You gnaw on your bottom lip as he taps on his forehead again with the pad of his thumb. You glare at the girl whose red lips continue to move. What is she even saying to him?

Your mind begins to wander. If it's you who's next to him right now, you're fairly certain that you won't be talking at all. You'll stare at him and listen to everything he says; hang on to every word. But Suguru is not selfish like Satoru. You know that it will be a conversation between the two of you; not just him yapping away like Satoru does.

Your heart skips a beat just by imagining how he'll look at you while you talk. He will nod, smile... Laugh. Gives you pennies for your thoughts. You pray to a higher power for the chance though you're certain that you won't be able to mutter anything coherent.

A few minutes pass by and the girl leaves. Suguru also leaves and a part of you dies inside again and again every time you see him with another girl. Where are they going? Is he going to sleep with her? Kiss her, touch her, claim her in places your mind does not dare to imagine? You finish your drink in one gulp before storming to the kitchen to grab more.

Your childishness tells you that your anger and envy are valid. After all, you've been pining over Suguru for two years now. Every time you try to move on, there is a pang of guilt in your heart. You never had him but he lives in the trenches of your heart, his name emblazoned in your mind.

But the rational part that's left of your intoxicated brain tells you that it's wrong. That you have no right to feel this way. Suguru doesn't even know you. How can you let him put a chain in your limbs and control you this way?

You wipe the liquor that dribbles down your chin. You look up and see through your hazy eyes that there are less people in the living room now. What time is it? You look down on the bottle of alcohol that you're cradling in your arms. Hiccuping, you realize that you drank half of its contents.

You stand up and the world around you begins to spin rapidly. Your knees feel like boiled noodles, unable to keep themselves upright. But still, you persevered. You leave the living room, determined to see Suguru. You decide that the madness has to stop once and for all. You can't live your life—

"Second floor, last room on the West wing!"

"Fuck you." you mutter beneath your breath as you hit your head with your fist repeatedly. For some reason, Satoru's voice decides to pop up out of nowhere.

You hiccup and begin your search to find Suguru. You look for him outside, trying to spot him in smaller crowds. At the pool area, staring at the people fucking on the water, the bathrooms… he's nowhere to be found.

You crawl your way upstairs, opening the rooms but either they're locked, empty or some people are fucking like rabbits inside.

You squint your eyes as you peek through the crevice of another door you opened. Another couple is fuck— wait. The jeans pooling on his ankles, the tight black shirt and the messy mop of white hair...

"Satoru," you drawl, inserting your head through the space between the door and the doorframe.

He whips his head, bullets of sweat dripping down his face as he smirks. "Hey. Anything I can do for ya?"

His breath is labored as he speaks; his hips continuously drilling against the girl's cunt. You can't see her from the angle but knowing Satoru, he's into beautiful girls. Beautiful, whiny girls. Her moans sound pretty, too.

"Where's Suguru?" You ask, blinking slowly.

"Told ya," he laughs. "Second floor, last room on the west wing."

"K," you sigh. You close the door and pray for the poor girl. You've never seen Satoru in action before but gods, are the rumors right. He is merciless and bursting with vigour.

You drag yourself to the last room on the West wing. Frankly, you don't even know what you're going to say to him. Does he even know you? Is he going to even hear you out?

Dread fills you to the brim when you stop in front of the door. What if he's not even here and Satoru is just messing with you? Worse, what if you see him fucking someone else inside? Gods.

You slap your cheeks to try and get a hold of what's left of yourself. It's a good thing that you're still somewhat sober despite drinking half of that bottle. You thought the liquor will make you forget but here you are, about to make the most stupid choice you've possibly ever done in your life.

Staring hard at the door, you take a sharp breath in. Your shaking fingers close around the cold knob before slowly turning it. The door finally opens and you feel your heart throb in your chest.

You peek inside then gasp in surprise.

"Su... Guru?" You whisper, pupils blown wide from the sight sprawled in front of you.

He's laying down on the mattress with his luscious long black hair spilling on the pillows. His eyes are closed and his chest is heaving erratically. Bullets of sweat drip down his forehead and there is a deep frown on his face. He seems asleep but he looks far from being peaceful.

You enter the room; your eyes languidly take in the curves of his shoulders, the muscles on his arms and his chiseled torso that are illuminated by the shaft ray of moonlight pouring through the window. Suguru always opts for loose clothing; his naked image that you've sculpted in your mind is a drastic comparison to the real thing. You thought he's going to be built like the gods but... He isn't. There is still softness; a mix of godhood and humanity in his features and your fingers twitch with the desire to touch and hold him.

Your eyes travel down his black sweatpants. The poor garment is hanging on for its dear life on his prominent v-line. His lower abdomen has a pathway of light black bush that leads to his...

You swallow thickly. There is an indentation of his dick against the fabric. You know it's wrong but your body begins to feel that familiar warmth. Here he is, the source of your mirth. The destination of your late night adventures when deep-seated desires stir. The subject of your dreams, of your fantasies, the muse of your high as thick hot cum dribbles down your inner thighs while you gasp for air; reality settles and you feel pathetic with your fingers knuckle-deep inside your cunt.

You should leave. But then what? Remain on the sidelines, longing for him, envying other girls and touching yourself to the idea of him? Here he is, served with his walls down. If you can have him once, just once…

You close the door. The sharp sound of the lock's bolt sends tingles all over your body. Slowly, you approach him. Shame burns your gut and makes your cheeks flushed. But you're here. You're here now. What matters is right now.

Slowly, you kneel in the space between his spread legs. The mattress shifts and you eye him nervously. But Suguru is still in deep sleep even when you pull down the waistband of his sweatpants and his cock springs free.

"Ah..." You breathe out, calming your heart. It's beating in your ears now as you stare at his length that's resting on his lower stomach.

The picture of his dick that you've crafted in your head is similar to the real deal and that makes you uncharacteristically giddy. It's on the longer side and its bulbous crown is pinkish in color.

With shaking fingers, you reach for it. He stays still even as your hand closes in around the base and gives him a few pumps.

"Suguru…" you whisper. The normalcy of you whispering his name like a prayer is true only in your bedroom as you touch yourself. But right now…

You continue your ministries as you stare at him anxiously. Is he going to wake up? A part of you wishes he does. Hoping that you will get to experience the stories you've heard from the women he fucked before. For him to watch you as you serve him, the memory ingraining in his mind. Your chest burns with envy again but you get a grip of yourself.

Who cares? The pad of your thumb caresses his tip. Your experience will be different. Exclusive.

You lean your entire torso down, your ass hanging in the air. You purse your lips and gather a blob of saliva before spitting it out on his dick. You use your own fluid as lube, pumping him a little bit faster now.

"So pretty, Suguru," you giggle when he breathes deeply. His cock is smooth and it's now starting to take a rigid stance. "I'm sure you taste pretty, too."

You descend your lips and pepper his length with feathery kisses. Lolling your tongue, you give him a few kitten licks, particularly the tip that you find endearingly charming.

He smells so good, too. Sweet like warm vanilla. You open your mouth and shove his length in. He's a bit longer than what you can take so your hands wrap around what's left of his dick, pumping it simultaneously as you bob your head.

He moans in his sleep, tossing a bit. Tears prick your eyes when his length hits the back of your throat. Your hands instinctively squeeze his hips, putting him in one place. You hollow your cheeks and pick up your pace, tongue swirling and licking the tip that's now leaking with precum.

"Haaa…" he gasps and you freeze.

You look at him; your eyes widen when you meet his dilating pupils. "W-what…"

He seems at loss but he doesn't push you away. Suguru blinks a few times at you as he heaves. You can almost see the cogs in his brain turn as he takes it all in.

You quickly release his dick with a loud pop before straddling him by the waist. "Shhh… It's okay."

You cup his face as panic settles in your nerves. You stare deeply into his eyes but notice that they're… absent. It's as if they are somewhere else even though they're looking at you.

"It's fine," you whisper. "It's fine. You're good. Trust me."

His head falls back on the pillows and he winces. You take the chance to finally kiss him, your legs pressing against his sides. He lays motionless, his eyes now closed. Panic dissipates from your nerves… now replaced by the thrill of it all.

You cup his cheeks and forcefully slither your tongue in. You shut your eyes and moan into his lips; he tastes like peppermint. Hollowing your cheeks again, you suck on his tongue.

When you pull away, a string of saliva keeps your lips connected. He opens his eyes, whispering something along the lines of "Who are you?"

You don't answer. Instead, you kiss and lick his skin. Worship every nook and cranny of his flesh, marking him. Your hands are all over the place too, touching him, staining his body with your shameless, scorching affection that you can no longer contain.

Your mouth envelops around his nipple as your other hand kneads on the other. You look up at him while you suck like a starved baby. He groans, his weak body trembling a bit.

"You like it?" You ask, swirling your tongue on his perked nipple. "You like being sucked like this, Suguru?"

He mumbles something that you didn't catch and do not honestly care about. Your lips go south, reaching his happy trail and his cock again.

"S-sto…p," he sighs when you press your face against his dick. "Stop… it…"

"But it makes you feel good, though…" you reply. "See? You like it. You're hard."

You shove it in your mouth again. Suguru groans like an angel as his hips buck upwards; his dick reaching the back of your throat again. He says he wants you to stop but his entire body's reaction does not match his words.

"Stop!" He screams, trying to pull away. But you keep your head in place, gripping his hips. Greedily, you suck him off until his cock trembles and spurts hot ropes of milky cum in your throat.

You pull away and swallow hard— he tastes salty. You smirk at him. He's frowning while gasping for breath.

"Wh…"

"Shhh," you shush him, leaning down and kissing his cheek. "It's alright. You taste so good, Suguru."

The words spilling out of your mouth, as well as the desire that is overtaking your body are beyond the heavens now. Your mind is in a haze and your pussy pulsates with need. You want him. You want him so bad it hurts.

"You seem weak," you whisper. "What happened to you?"

"I…" he mumbles.

You coo and kiss him again. "Shhh. It's okay. You're safe with me. I love you so much, Suguru. I love you so, so much."

You sit up on his stomach and take off your top. Your breasts spill out of the garment and Suguru can only watch with droopy eyes.

"I've always wanted you…" you mutter as you lift your hips. You take his hand and bring his fingers to your mouth to suck them.

When they're wet enough, you guide them to your aching cunt. You hold onto his index finger and use it to rub your warm clit. You keep your eyes on him as he remains still, letting you do whatever you want. He looks confused and it makes your heart ache. What's going on with him?

"Gonna put 'em in…" you whisper and slowly ease in two of his fingers inside you.

A moan rips out of your lips when his slender fingers fit snug inside your walls. You move your hips— up and down, up and down until his entire fingers are coated with your cum.

You take them off, licking the middle finger before you align the index in his mouth. He whips his head to the side— a stubborn act of defiance that makes you annoyed.

"What the fuck? You did this with other girls, I bet. Other girls that don't fucking care about you," you angrily snap, cupping his jaw. "And you can't do it for the one who loves you? How dare you?!"

You squeeze his cheeks until his lips form a small opening. You shove his index finger in, coated with your cum. With a maniacal smile on your lips, you watch as he struggles.

"I taste good, right?" You laugh and kiss him on the lips, tasting your own essence on his tongue. "I taste so good."

"S…sto—"

"Sh," you hush him. "Don't say anything. I don't want to hear you talk. I only want to hear you whine and moan. Understood? Such a good boy, Suguru."

You get off of him. Hastily taking off your jeans and underwear, Suguru's eyes widen in panic. Before he can move away, you position yourself on his waist, straddling him again into place.

"I was so fucking envious of the girls you fucked," you laugh. "They say you're good in bed. I'm a bit sad that you're too weak to show me but don't worry, okay? I love you. I love you so much, I'm going to make you feel good."

Suguru shakes his head when he sees you lift your hips. He winces when he feels you drag his dick along your clit, using your cum as lube. You spit on the crown before finally shoving him in.

You hiss in pain as his bulbous tip bullies its way inside you. Suguru thrashes for a bit before you finally take him all in. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you quickly move to ease the pain; bouncing your hips on his cock.

You look down and see him completely helpless. He's too intoxicated to even think straight, moreso move. It delights you to see him like this; beneath you as you use him like your personal toy.

"Suguru," you gasp for breath, leaning closer to him. "Does it feel good? I feel so good."

He whips his head to the side again but you don't care this time. You're too lost in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of you; caressing your gummy walls perfectly.

You anchor your hands on his chest and pick up the pace of your hips. It's starting to strain your legs and thighs but you're determined to reach the highest of highs. Strings of whimpers and groans escape his lips. You laugh upon realizing that he doesn't have a condom on and you're not taking any pills.

"Hey, Suguru—" your breath hitches in your throat when he hits that particularly sweet spot inside you. "You're gonna be so mad at me when you wake up tomorrow. Might as well get my fill, huh?"

It's all getting in your head. You arch your back as you put your hands on his knees to anchor yourself. You throw your head back, sliding in and out of him with ease. The squelching sounds of your skins are music to your ears.

Your mind wanders as your legs begin to tremble. God. What happens if you get pregnant? Just the thought of carrying Suguru's baby makes your entire body tingle and the knot in your lower belly tighten. You look down at him and smirk.

If by chance, you get the privilege of carrying his child, will he stay in your life? That's uncertain. But one thing's for sure and that is you will have a piece of him with you forever. A laughter slips out of your lips as the knot in your belly loosens and turns into a mess— hot cum gushes out of you and sprinkles his lower abdomen.

But you continue to move despite your shaking body. You need him to reach that high. You need him to cum deep inside you and fill your womb. Suguru's hips stutter as he lets out a guttural growl. You laugh once again when you pull out and see his sticky cum drip down your inner thighs. Quickly, you gather the fluid and shove your fingers inside you, not letting a drop go to waste.

The reality sets in, akin to the times you spent alone in your bed. But this time, it's different. You don't feel pathetic. Matter-of-fact, you feel happy. Your dream is now fulfilled. This experience is yours and yours alone. And even if Suguru fucks other girls, it doesn't matter anymore. You have a piece of him in you now. You're certain that no girls had their ways with him until you. You were in charge and that made you feel powerful.

Suguru's eyes flutter until they finally close. Sweat drips down his forehead as his chest begins to heave deeply. His face does not look like he's in pain anymore and that makes you smile.

You lean towards him and kiss him for the last time on the lips before you get dressed. You pull up his sweatpants, his cock now flaccid. You don't bother wiping him clean. Even just for tonight, you want him all over you.

You leave the house with your head above the clouds; your throbbing cunt misses him already.

#suguru x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw: somnophilia #tw: noncon #tw: spitting #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk suguru #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #[noelle's works (⁠◕⁠દ⁠◕⁠)]#suguru geto x afab reader #suguru x afab reader #suguru geto x afab reader smut #suguru x afab reader smut #suguru smut

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byhimawari · 7 months ago

Text

“Home”

(a RivaMika drabble)

“Make a wish, papa!”

Extended out to him is a little hand holding out a dandelion, the pappus fully bloomed into its puffball nature, loose bristles floating away in the soft spring breeze, a beautiful and carefree sight, just like the bundle of joy that holds it.

She smiles her mother’s smile, an excited glimmer in her eyes that compliments the rosiness of her cheeks, warm and damp from all her frolicking in the vast green fields before them. The young girl tip toes between her father’s legs trying to bring the flower closer to his lips, urging him as she pouts.

“Papa, hurry before the wind blows it away!”

Levi chuckles softly and leans forward to blow gently on the dandelion, the wisps dancing in the air and eliciting chime-like giggles from his daughter’s lips.

“What did you wish for?” She asks excitedly, her curious eyes glistening with so much wonder.

“I can’t tell you, princess,” he wipes some dirt and sweat off her face with his handkerchief, “Otherwise, it won’t come true.”

A long whine escapes her, “Aww, I promise I won’t tell anyone —!”

“Mama, for you!” calls another sweet voice belonging to that of a young boy who comes running back to them from the fields.

Hugging and puffing with a proud and contagious grin on his face arrives the boy, handing his mother a bundle of flowers he had picked from the field himself; excitedly so it appears, as the roots are still intact. Mikasa smiles warmly, stroking his cheek tenderly as she affects his gift.

“It’s beautiful, my love,” she says, her voice soothing and kind, “Thank you so much.”

“I want to get flower for mama, too!” exclaims their pouty daughter in envy.

“Both of you go and gather some more flowers for your mother, then. Let’s see who can get her the most.”

There’s a hint of mischief in Levi’s tone, as he knows just how they will react because, well, they’re his children after all, and if there’s something that they both inherited from him and his wife, it’s their competitive spirit.

“Okay!” Both children chirp before racing off, fusses of who is faster fading into the distance.

Mikasa lets out an exasperated sigh, nudging her husband playfully, “Must you always instigate them?”

“I’m merely giving them more creative ways to bond as siblings,” Levi replies cooly, though with a smug grin pulling at the corner of his lips, “You can’t fault me for that.”

Mikasa could only laugh quietly in defeat, “No, I suppose I can’t.”

“Plus, you deserve more flowers than that,” Levi face softens as he turns to her with that reserved smile of his, taking and stroking her hand comfortingly with his thumb in the pattern she likes, “You deserve a flower field that never ends.”

The glisten in Mikasa’s eyes as she smiles back with a grateful gaze is a reply worth a thousands words. She snuggles in closer to Levi and he instinctively wraps his arm around her shoulder, making the wooden bench they sit upon swing lightly back and forth. Both let out a breath of contentment as they watch their children run and play, chasing one another with flowers in their hands.

The sight warms up Mikasa’s heart like a wonderful dream, except much greater, because it’s no longer just a world built on desperate hope and delusion, but instead a reality — a world where a mother and father can watch their children play freely without the fear of monsters emerging from the woods, a world where the sea is just the sea, and a world where, at long last, 'home’ is definite, always there, always waiting for her, never wavering.

Because home is them.

“Make a wish, Papa!”

“Mama, for you!”

“You deserve a flower field that never ends.”

It will always be them.

Their children’s laughter fills the air as they blow more dandelions into the sky, and its in the very moment she sees them close their eyes to make a wish, when Mikasa finally admits that perhaps, the world isn’t so cruel after all.

"What do you think how life will be if we didn't end up together?" **

Levi smiles and brings Mikasa's hand to his mouth. He kisses their wedding band that is wrapped around her finger. **

"I suppose that's the best part," he says. "We'll never know." **

fin.

————

** = lines written by lovely and beyond talented wife @cryinginthebackseat, whom inspired me to write this drabble from just her snippet alone! I love you! ❤️

#rivamika #levi x mikasa #levimika #rivamika fanart #rivamika fandom #mikasa x levi #rivamika art #rivamika fanfic #rivaille x mikasa #rivamika headcanon #rivamika fanfiction #rivamika fic #rivamika drabble

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legendl0re · 3 months ago

Text

A Court of Peace and Ire: Chapter 2 in full

Fuck it might as well post it here as well as AO3 xD

Summary:

Nesta, changed by her experiences with the Asteri, Bryce, and other worlds, has since resolved to get Prythian to where it needs to be should it have to face another threat. Stuck in a another dick-measuring contest between Eris and Cassian, the re-appearance of Tamlin offers her a chance to set things in motion.

Notes:

This one's for the Neris fans, and yes, Nesta is going to be the core of everybody getting their shit together over the course of this fic. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of ab*se, depression, and self-hatred (mainly on Nesta's part)

Nesta Archeron picked a small dandelion from the meadow, finding its vibrant yellow frills infinitely more interesting than the conversation going on behind her.

Once again, Rhys had urged Cassian to keep tabs on Eris, and once again, they had opted to take the risk of meeting in the Spring Court.

The two males yammered and bickered like they always did, Cassian’s incessant sneezing being the only thing to snap her out of her frequent distraction. Even with the risks that came from meeting here, Spring was a nice change of pace, a chance to get away from the Night Court’s chilling winds and the even chillier attitudes of the Inner Circle.

“Just keep us informed if Beron makes any new moves. If he tries to contact Koshei or the other mortal queens, or anything else.” Cassian was so tense veins were popping at his neck, but Eris seemed as unbothered as ever.

“Perhaps your little Shadowsinger should retire, since you’re so keen on having me do all of his work as of late.” The Illyrian practically snorted in anger, Eris chuckling to himself as he imagined himself conversing with a bat-winged bull. “As tempting as the alliance has been, I’m not privy to all of my father’s counsel. He’s become withdrawn, paranoid, and I have my own things to protect should he fall off the deep end.”

Nesta twisted the dandelion in her hand; it was just as likely that Eris was referring to his mother and brothers as he was to his hounds. She could never tell what he really valued despite these years of verbal sparring, but it was true that the High Lord of Autumn had grown volatile…unhinged even.

At the last High Lords meeting, the bruises they all knew he left on Eris’ mother had begun to peek out from under the collar of her dress. He was getting sloppy, or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. Perhaps he was going senile, or the constant stagnation of Autumn in comparison the Night Court’s burgeoning power was starting to worry him

Power that she herself had bought them.

Keeping the Trove’s presence in Velaris was a fool’s errand; their power could not be dampened, and legends don’t operate quietly. Everyone felt it when Nesta beckoned the harp, wrestled with death for her sister and nephew, and bargained with the cauldron itself.

“The next time you come trying to spigot me for information, you better have something worthwhile. A dagger and the occasional dance is not enough.”

Out of her peripheral vision, Nesta could see that Eris’ pointed look had been thrown her way. “Oh I’m sorry, were you addressing me?” She droned, her boredom clear and blunt. “I thought I was just supposed to stand here and look pretty while you two squabble. And we haven’t danced in months if I remember correctly.”

“Perhaps if I weren’t conversing with an oaf, we could get a lot more done.” Eris preened, turning his eyes to the treeline. Cassian growled and turned away, shadows already coiling to winnow back home.

“You do what you want, Eris! I’m tired of this holier-than-thou, my-wants-are-greater than-yours attitude.” The heir of Autumn chuffed.

“Hmph, and yet you still serve Rhysand.” The winnowing energy shot to nothing, Cassian getting inches away from Eris’ face in a flash.

“Keep it up and I’ll finish what Azriel started.” Eris didn’t balk an inch, still as ever even in the great shadow of the Illyrian Commander.

Nesta dropped the flower, and interposed herself between the two.

“Enough.” She ordered, meeting the gazes of both men before she sighed. “Cassian, I want to talk to Eris alone.” Her mate’s eyes went wide, brow furrowing so deep it threatened to crush his nose. But she laced the words with just enough venom that he halted, thinking of the myriad of ways she would dress the Autumn heir down.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“I’m sure.” Nesta smirked, appreciating how far he had come from feeling like he needed to always be there. The Blood Rite caused him to be around her almost every second of everyday, often bursting into arguments about how he was suffocating her. But then he remembered the Bog, and the sheer power of death that turned the hag queen Briallyn to dust.

Even with the bulk of her powers given back to the cauldron, Nesta Archeron was touched by death eternal, and he was ever her devout servant.

“Go, I’ll finish up here. Rhysand will probably want to hear about this sooner rather than later.” Cass nodded, kissing Nesta on the head and lips before vanishing into the shadows. Then Nesta let the smile fade, and armed herself for a different dance.

“Nice job, mentioning Rhys to put a pep in his step.” Eris crooned, earning himself a withering glare.

“Shut. Up. You’ve been doing nothing but antagonizing him from the moment we got here. Wasting all of our time.” Nesta watched as Eris slipped his hands in his pockets.

“I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

“That makes one of us.” Eris rolled his eyes, trying to weave past Nesta’s bladed words.

“What can I say? It’s fun to poke the bear. Especially since I can’t get any actual diplomacy done with him. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Was it fun when Azriel was pounding your face in?” Eris frowned at Nesta’s barb. “Because I promise you, Cassian hits a thousand times harder.” The heir kept his scowl for a moment, then burst into a laugh.

“Trust me Lady Acheron, I’m not worried. Rhysand has him by the back of the neck and you have him by the balls. He won’t jump unless either of you flick the leash.” Nesta crossed her arms, half wondering how bad a slap to the face laced with silver flame would hurt.

But she reeled her thought back in. “And now he isn’t here, which means that we can actually get down to business. Unless you're keen on pressing the issue.” Eris, with his back to her, let his fingers interlock behind her.

“You know what? I do have an issue I’d like to address. Your cowardice.” Nesta blinked, unimpressed but mildly curious at what he meant.

“This will be good. Go on?”

“I thought we had a good rapport at Rhysand’s little party at the Hewn City. You know, the one where he let the masses scent Feyre nice and deep?” Nesta felt her anger crackle, but kept her lips pursed. “I heard what you had said about me, about deserving me because of how horrible a person I am. A brute and a piece of shit I believe were the words used?”

“How do yo-?”

“Rhys thinks he's the only one with a spymaster worth a damn.” Eris’ withering glare would have left a lesser woman prickling, but Nesta just clicked her tongue.

“Oh. Did I hurt your feelings?” She mocked.

Eris sighed, his face donning a weary smile. “No. I just would have figured the woman who stood up for the humans so fiercely wouldn't have fallen for cheap Night Court gossip, nor would she have such a low opinion of herself.” Nesta almost winced, remembering the comparison she had made.

The harshness of those days came soaring back to her: the back and forth with Cassian, the rage and hatred she felt for herself, and of course, Rhys’ sudden willingness to put up with her if it put the Night Court in a better position.

With how good he was at staging her for his political gain, she had thought he’d broken into her memories and taken notes.

Still, Eris had an immense amount of nerve to whine, and Nesta stepped forward with her teeth bared. “Let’s not pretend you give a damn about my self-esteem Eris, and you hunting after my sister and your brother isn’t gossip, and neither is what you did to Morrigan.”

“Since when have you ever given a damn about Mor?” The fae laughed, shaking his head. “Although, it’s good to know that she still hasn’t told the truth.” Eris let that hang in the air, taking in a deep breath of the spring wind. Nesta’s arms fell at her sides, watching as the viper’s mask Eris Vanserra wore slowly chipped away, as if blown down by the softness of the air.

“That did hurt your feelings, didn’t it?”

“I suppose I was more disappointed. I thought you were different from those sycophants Rhysand surrounds himself with, your sisters included. That you knew, there is always more than meets the eye.” Eris turned to have her and swallowed, and Nesta actually narrowed her eyes. He was nervous; genuinely nervous…

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I would marry you in a heartbeat, Nesta, and it’s certainly not because you look excellent in black or because you somehow managed to learn expert-level fae dance routines in a few weeks. I wouldn’t have made it this far if I was that vapid.” Eris had closed the distance between them, his eyes intense with smoldering flame.

“Males of Autumn are taught to be frank, not to waste our time when it comes to our true desires. We say what we feel, and we take what we want, and I very much want you.”

“Even after I insulted you so?” Nesta scoffed, feigning mild interest despite actually being shocked.

“I’m a big boy, Nesta, and unlike Rhysand, I understand that the image I’ve cultivated for myself comes with consequences.” Eris began pacing around her in slow, playful steps. “From that first meeting, I could tell you took things seriously, fought with every word you had to keep your people safe. While Rhysand and his High Lady pleaded and appealed to some misplaced sense of heroic morality, you were pragmatic, used reason, and looked to our self interest to guide our decisions.” He leaned in, letting Nesta feel the warmth of Autumn in his presence. That’s what a true ruler does.”

“How observant of you.” Nesta replied, taken aback by the words but remaining guarded all the same. Autumn was a home to many a sly fox after all.

And of course, ever the sly fox, Eris changed his tactics to keep things interesting. “You were supposed to rule your own little court once, correct? An inheritance waiting for you in the mortal lands.” Nesta rolled her eyes.

“Please. Continue to remind me of what I lost.” Eris raised a brow, ignoring the bait. “The humans would never have a fae rule over them, and I’m pretty sure the other nobles have worked with the queens to cannibalize my father’s fortune.”

The ships and soldiers he bought were the last Nesta would ever see of it; her father’s presence in the world reduced to a gravestone and the memories she and her sisters would carry forever.

“A shame. I would have loved to have seen what you could have done with such wealth and power on your own, unshackled by the chains of family.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes at the word; did Eris know what happened to her? About the House of Wind and the tensions between her and her sisters. And why in the Mother’s name was he bringing it up now in the middle of what was essentially a love confession?

“How do you know all this anyway? You’re spies can’t be that good.” Nesta prodded.

“Trust me. They are, but it certainly helped that Bryallin was quite thorough in her research of you. I got a peak at her thoughts while she ‘had me under her spell’.” Eris grinned as he unbuttoned his coat, moving the lapel to reveal the dagger—her dagger—strapped at his hip. “I should thank you, but the way. Your blade kept my mind from breaking under the weight of the crown.”

Nesta tensed as the heir of Autumn reached for the knife, but relaxed as he unbuckled it and handed it to her. “You can have it back if you wish. I took it out of respect for Rhys’ attempts at winning my favor, but it very much wishes to return to its maker.”

More questions roved over Nesta’s mind. Did he know that she had lost the majority of her powers too? The weapons she had Made each still carried great amounts of that original essence, yet only Ataraxia remained hers. This offering could be both an implication that Autumn knows Nesta lacks her past strength, but maybe it was also genuine.

“Keep it. You might need it again.” It was true, but also Nesta didn’t want Rhysand to have all of the things she had made. They thought they were being subtle but the Inner Circle had always been keen to pry what was hers away for their own benefit, be it the weapons, the Trove, her identity.

She supposed that things had improved with them since she and Cassian officially ordained themselves as mates, having a small ceremony whose mix of extravagance and modesty was a careful negotiation between the two of them: small enough that Cassian wouldn’t be teased by his brothers for eternity, but big enough that Nesta felt like she would remember it forever.

And she would; it was the first step towards accepting her role in all of this, towards making peace with the fact that she was now fae, and no longer human…

Yet still, she couldn’t entirely shake the stares, the judgment. Amren had opted for an indifferent peace between them, but their old days of training and dropping bits of thousand-year-old wisdom had long since ceased. Azriel was always his kind, quiet self, always reaching out and checking in when he could. Then there was Morrigan, brown eyes alight with fury every time she glanced at her and Cassian together.

Mother forbid both Cassian and Azriel talk to her at the same time, lest the blonde’s head go up in flames.

Nesta had long since resolved that she was good enough for Cassian, that she did deserve his love and her peace despite what she had done. But between Morrigan’s clear disdain, Rhys’ constant shifting between hot and cold, and her mate’s often blunt refusal to defend her in most situations, it seems the family that this Circle claimed to be was only for her sisters.

She supposed that was why she opted to make her own, with Gwyn and Emerie.

“My offer still stands.” Eris boasted, snapping Nesta out of her rumination.

“What? Of marriage?” She guffaws. “Please.”

“Already fully bonded to the brute then?” Nesta turned to him, letting a little silver blaze through her eyes.

“You call him anything but his goddamned name one more time, this conversation is over.” Eris paused, then backed off, taking her seriously.

Perhaps that was the strange appeal of it all, this little dance they did. He actually took her at her word.

“Is it so hard to envision?” He said. “You, in vibrant autumn red, a crown of gilded leaves on your head.”

“Your father spending every waking moment plotting my demise?”

“I never knew you to be one to back down from a challenge, and my father would be a fool to even hope to wrestle with you.” Eris gently took her hand in his, and watched as she let him bring it to his lips. “I myself would find it the utmost pleasure, and in truth, I believe you would be an exemplary queen, no matter whose court you ruled. I humbly pray to the Mother that you would grace mine.”

He pressed his lips to her knuckle, and Nesta couldn’t help but stir slightly at the heat of his lips warming the skin. Perhaps she should have let Cassian stay. “There’s not a single humble thing about you, Eris Vanserra.”

“True.” He said, letting go of her hand. “I very much will enjoy bragging about being one to kiss the hand of death.” The two stood there for a moment, eyes locked like two fires struggling to snuff the other out. Nesta’s hands had balled into fists behind her, embarrassed at how Eris of all people was getting to her.

It was just words, grand claims he would never live up to, all to worm his way deeper into the Night Court and get whatever it was he really wanted.

Nesta had Cassian—loved Cassian. He may not have been willing to stand up to Rhys, or actually said that he loved her. But it was more real than whatever dream Eris Vanserra was trying to sell her, and she would not be another Lady of Autumn.

No, silver flames would rip the Autumn Court apart before she ever let that happen.

Eris’ gaze broke first, whipping to something behind her, something that had urged him to unsheath her dagger and call an orb of flame into his other hand. Nesta turned to see, and lumbering through the trees in gilded, horned splendor, was the High Lord of Spring.

“I warned you about what would happen the next time you trespassed into my lands.” Tamlin growled, green eyes spearing the two as his claws dug into the earth beneath him. Eris just smirked.

“If you’ve finally set on cutting your life short, High Lord, I do appreciate that you’d do it in a fashion that grants my Court a lovely expansion.” Tamlin’s lips parted, revealing ivory teeth the size of daggers.

“An expansion you wouldn’t live to see.” He snarled, taking a step forward that thundered into the earth, sending birds fleeing from the trees. Heart pounding, Nesta shot a hand up, turning to face Eris with a grave scowl.

“I’m not dying in the Spring Court because of your stupid fucking remarks.” She muttered, before turning back to face Tamlin. “We were just leaving.”

“Until your next little get together, witch?” He replied, tail still swishing in anticipation of Eris’ next barb. It nearly left his lips, until Nesta blocked his way.

“Leave, Eris.” She demanded. “I’ll deal with this myself.”

“You think Cassian would let me live if I left you here alone, with him?” Nesta scoffed, the modicum of respect she had just developed for Eris vanishing.

“Did you not just profess your undying respect for me, or has that all gone out the window now that a monster has shown up? Are you going to protect little old me, Eris?” Nesta laid the mockery on thick, and the Heir of Autumn indeed found himself in an awkward position. Leaving Nesta with Tamlin was unwise, and Cassian would indeed flay him living if he found out he left her here with her sister’s tormentor.

But if Nesta believed she could handle it…

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” He whispered, sheathing the knife and winnowing away in one fluid movement. Nesta sighed, relieved that she could now dictate the conversation without pig-headed males puffing up their chests.

What was it Bryce had called them? ‘Alpha-holes?’

“Protecting your little alliance?” Tamlin growled, emerald eyes now trained firmly on the eldest Archeron.

“You’re operating under the assumption that I want to deal with you at all, much less fight you.” The beast narrowed his gaze at her. “I don’t need Eris riling you up, and frankly, this is actually a good opportunity.”

“For what?” The High Lord prodded, head tilting to the side in confusion.

“I know what you did for Nyx.” Nesta stated, keep her tone neutral and her hands at her sides. Tamlin paused, caught off-guard with denial already poised on his lips. Quickly, she cut him off. “Feyre was searching for him for hours. She knows that house like the back of her hand and still couldn’t find him anywhere. That, and you left shavings on his pajamas.”

Tamlin grunted at himself. How could he be so stupid as to leave his gods-damned sheddings about?

“And what do you have to say about it?” He grumbled, bracing for Nesta’s near-mythical rapier wit.

“How about thank you?” He blinked again, half inclined to check his ear to ensure nothing was in it. “Rhysand might be knocking on your door sometime soon, so I figured I’d show my gratitude before he mucks it all up.”

“Gratitude for what? He’s not yours.” Tamlin replied, looking down as he scraped his claw against the ground.

“He’s my nephew.” And a chance to have someone in the family who doesn’t despise her on some level. At least, she hoped that would be the case; Rhysand was a master of pouring just the right amount of honey and poison to craft a specific vision, and she often found herself lamenting about how one day, the happy Nyx—who she gave up her powers to save along with Feyre—would disdain her for all the Inner Circle held her accountable for.

But that worry was reserved for another day.

“You’re…different.” The High Lord noted, finally shifting from his prep to lunge to a seated position. “You’re not as…bad-tempered.”

Nesta practically laughed; what a nice way to say ‘not as much a vicious bitch’.

“Things change, High Lord. I’ve recently learned the world is much bigger than we think, and that all this scheming and politicking on this pitiful little continent is nothing more than a waste of time.” Nesta thought back to just a short time ago, about Bryce and her world, the Asteri, her time with Ember and the small kindnesses Bryce’s mother had offered. The squabbling here in Prythian left it weak, vulnerable, and it was by Nesta’s blind faith alone that Bryce had the chance to take on the Asteri and save both of their realms.

She had resolved to start getting things back on track a long time ago, and if that meant dealing with her sister’s vicious ex-lover—be it solving things diplomatically or mowing him down for someone else to take his place—then so be it.

Gwyn and Emerie urged her to give the former a try before the latter; taking on the Blood Rite was one thing, but as strong as they were together, taking on a High Lord was a fool’s errand, even for people as seasoned as Cassian or Azriel.

“Your court borders the mortal lands, meaning like it or not, you’re an arbiter of what comes in and what goes through. I may be fae now, but I still care about the humans, and while it may not look like it, I engage in these meetings out of a hope that I can get something out of it that will let me help them in some way.”

Tamlin gave a hollow laugh. “Eris Vanserra and the Autumn Court are the last people to ever give a damn about humans.”

“I know, that's why it’s important to keep an eye on them the most.” Tamlin blinked at Nesta’s claim. “When you’re gathering allies or resources that are sympathetic to your cause, that doesn’t mean you ignore your biggest opposition. I figured a High Lord would know that.” The beast bristled at her last comment, but Nesta reeled her fangs back in.

“And despite what you may have done to my sister after she di-,” She paused to correct herself, “After she changed, I remember that you filled our father’s coffers and let us regain our nobility, when you could have left us out in the cold to starve and die. You let Feyre come back to us, even though it meant eternal imprisonment for you and your people. And you made sure Nyx got back from his little adventure safe and sound.”

Nesta brushed a hair behind her ear. “A person who does all that can’t be all bad.”

Tamlin glanced down at the grass, thinking hard on Nesta’s words. Nesta’s. Supposedly the most vicious of the Archeron sisters. This whole conversation was almost surreal, and he felt a strain in his chest that felt an awful lot like…hope?

“I’m going to go now.” Nesta stated, waiting for a reaction before calling her powers to winnow her away. If Tamlin still pounced on her after all this, she was going to be really disappointed.

But no. Tamlin simply let his stare rise to meet hers again, before turning to walk away. “Have your meetings somewhere else.” He murmured, Nesta chuffing as the shadows carried her back to the Night Court.

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