#this tree is one of the last remaining plants from my childhood that i'm REALLY attached to

[clorofolle]

Loquat flowers! I couldn't catch them when they were all fresh and open (rainy days), but I still think they're so pretty. Also, shout out to loquats?? They're extremely sturdy, super easy to grow (just accidentally throw a seed somewhere and occasionally water), flowers smell so good, fruits are so yummy. Bless them bless them

[echodrops]

The Promises I’m Making (2024)

Sheesh, this year it was even harder than last year to make promises. In particular, I really wanted to focus on promises that wouldn't cost as much money as in prior years, so I tried to steer clear of too many promises that would cost above the basic spending amounts... But it turns out it is really hard to make resolutions if you're broke. 😂

So here's what I'm going with:

2024 Promises

1) Step down from my administrative position and return to being a full-time faculty member. I literally cannot take the clown show that is admin at my work anymore. It is actually killing me.

2) Related to this, redecorate my new office as soon as they decide where they are going to move me.

3) Apply for new jobs!! APPLY FOR NEW JOBS!!!

4) Train my replacement in the chair position well so they are super prepared to take over in fall.

5) Put a new sink/vanity in the downstairs bathroom of the Utah house.

6) Get both bedroom floors sanded in the Utah house upstairs.

7) Finally get rid of the dirt pile in front of the Utah house.

8) Take down the remains of the wooden fence posts at the Utah house.

9) Fully clean out and prepare the Utah house to be rented out to new renters. Hopefully the next people won’t sneak in a parrot that poops all over the floor… RIP…

10) Clean off my back patio/car port area so I can park my car there again.

11) Call the plumber and replace the faucets. Even if I end up having to do it myself.

12) Get the dead tree removed from the Texas house yard and call the internet company to see about the cable around the tree root.

13) Plant roses where the old ones died in front of the Texas house. 

14) Replace my CPU fan; the bearings are going out and it’s making an annoying noise.

15) Organize my documents (especially student papers)—my desktop and documents folders give me nightmares just looking at them. 

16) Related to that, lose at least 20 pounds. 2020-2023 was not kind to me and the stress eating was real.

17) Do at least one artwork to actually use that paint program I bought. 

18) Pay my credit debt down by at least $2000. I’m still paying off the hell year, but I hope I can make progress on this.

19) Buy all the Noragami volumes I am missing and do a complete re-read of Noragami now that the series is finishing up.

20) This is super nerdy, but my bro got me the FFXIV cookbook and made me promise to actually use it, so I guess I’d better at least try to make something from it.

21) Finish at least five books this year.

22) Update HaaH at least once. Please, Echo???

23) Reach the new level cap with all jobs in FFXIV!

24) Go to the graduation ceremony for my family friend.

25) Catch up with hanging up all the charms/pins I’ve gotten recently on my corkboards; these are just sitting in boxes/bags around the house. D;

26) Fully deep clean and vacuum/detail my own car at home. No more of the “It doesn’t make sense to clean it out now; the dog is just going to go back in it.” The dog is always going to go back in it. Clean it, Echo.

27) Help my parents tear out the carpet in my old childhood bedroom.

28) See at least three new species of birds. Doesn’t matter where, just three new ones!

29) Reach 3500 followers. Can I do it? You should follow me if you’re not already; I’m pretty cool. Just sayin’!

30) Cancel all the subscriptions I don’t need. There’s literally no reason to sit around letting companies passively profit off me when I don’t even really use the services/the services keep getting worse while the costs keep going up.

31) Go out on at least a day trip to take pictures with my friend. We haven’t done this in quite some time. I need to touch grass.

32) Repair the lovely one-of-kind ceramic plate that my dog broke with kintsugi. I want to try it at least once!

33) Really look hard for my passport in my house. It’s been missing for like a year and a half now, and I don’t want to have to pay for a new one.

34) Put all the small prints, postcards, and stickers I have collected in my new mini-print books. I can even use up washi tape to decorate too. (Finally, a purpose for the washi tape…)

35) Shred the million pieces of old mail I have lying around the house. I finally got the shredder so it just makes sense to use it.

36) Have more follow-through with chores. It’s not enough to wash the clothes or do the dishes if I then procrastinate on folding the clean laundry and putting the dried dishes back in the cabinets…

37) Put reminders for birthdays and major events in my phone as well as set a monthly reminder to check these promises. Maybe I’ll be able to keep more promises if I look at the list more often throughout the year!

38) Since I can’t afford to go to the salon, spa, etc. too much this year, I should at least do some self-care days at home. Will this be the year I finally manage to use all the fancy scrubs and face masks and bath salts I keep getting from people?

39) Use up one whole notebook. It doesn’t matter what goes in the notebook, but I gotta use the whole thing from cover to cover. I have so many pretty notebooks that never get used just because they’re pretty.

40) Change the burned-out lightbulbs in the recessed lighting in the Texas house ceiling. It’s like twelve feet high and the lightbulb charger stick I bought didn’t work, so I’m going to have to find someone with a ladder. Save me, handyman. Save me.

41) Build the pretty koi paper lantern my brother got me, or the Korean temple model my coworker gave me after his trip to Korea.

42) Actually use the yoga mat I bought forever ago. At least a few times, please???

43) Finish watching the Fruits Basket remake with Kacchan. I think we stopped in the second season, RIP.

44) Spend more time with coworkers—go out to lunch more often.

45) See about removing the PMI from at least one of my house loans to try to save money. I’ve been paying on these loans long enough I shouldn’t need PMI anymore.

46) Practice my German skills (or I guess other language skills?) by translating something at least once a month.

47) Get a new bookshelf. The current ones in both my office and foyer are already overflowing. @_@

48) Make more time to call people and talk on the phone. Texting is not the same. D;

49) Get the new COVID vaccine to stay healthy.

50) I will keep my promises! 

Good luck, 2024’s me!

[spectascopes]

Without a Second Thought- Chapter 1

Undertale Fanfiction (Gen, SFW) No relationships or pairings Tags (from AO3): Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Trauma, Mental Health Issues, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Trust Issues, Sans is a Mess, Good Parent Toriel, Toriel is Frisk's Mom, Manipulation, Flowey isn't a great friend, but nobody is surprised, Soriel Lightly Implied, Past Child Abuse, Narrator Chara, Major Character Injury, Injury Recovery, Crying, lots and lots of crying, Reader is Frisk Link to AO3 version

"You got through the Underground with the help of a ghostly companion nobody else could see, and you made a lot of friends along the way, but Chara didn't come with you into the sunlight. Now you have a new mom, and a new family, but no extra brain to help you make the right choices. It might have lasted, too, if you hadn't messed it up."

this is called frangst (Frisk Angst) and it's mostly about Sans and Frisk and a really bad situation

anyways I've been kinda on/off working on this for months, so most of it is already written! BIG HUGE SHOUT OUT to @kaliawai512-v2 for reading this and giving me some insightful and super helpful feedback, go read their stories if you haven't already!

TW for some intense emotions and results of emotional and verbal abuse in later chapters, I'm a bit of a wimp myself but I kinda maybe definitely cried maybe more than once writing this- allegedly

You sighed, laying in the backyard under the shade of the big oak tree mom tended to so well. She was inside making dinner- you could hear her humming to herself through the open window. She insisted it remained open, because-

"Ugh, is this really all you do? Just sit around? You've been spending too much time with Trashbag."

You sighed again, this time in exasperation. You opened your eyes and turned to see the plant in question giving you a dirty look. It was no wonder mom didn’t exactly trust him.

"It's a little mean to still call him that," you said. "He gave you a sandwich at that party one time, remember? That was really nice of him."

"Uh, yeah, you asked him to do that and Papyrus said if he didn't he’d be disowned. I bet he tried to poison me with it."

You rolled your eyes, but it was with a smile. "How much?"

Flowey groaned, blew a raspberry, then hit you in the face with a floppy leaf. "Fine, you called my bluff. He's not really the type to do things, I guess."

You sat up, pulling your legs in to sit criss-cross. Flowey's pouty, ever-cranky face had a bit of happiness in it. He poked a bruise on your leg.

“What’s this from? That’s probably a more interesting story than anything to do with Sans.”

You swept his vines away. “I ran into the coffee table. Papyrus was chasing me.”

“Stupid. You two are like dogs- like little baby dogs, you know that? Chasing each other around the house, you’re-”

“We’re dogs,” you finished, smiling. “I get it. We both like to run and play- is that a crime?”

“It should be,” Flowey said. “If I had my way, it would be. And no more of the idiotic play-fights you have with Smiley, those are just horrible to watch. You don’t even hit each other enough to do damage! Weirdos!.”

“C’mon, you should come with us and get suplexed by Undyne sometime. It’s her favorite activity.”

Flowey shuddered, and it was funny to watch it run up his stem and shake out into his petals. “Eugh. I don’t understand how you shrug off getting bruised and bloody ‘playing’ with these losers while also being the biggest wimp I’ve ever met.”

You smiled, idly touching the small mark. Mom had scolded you (and Papyrus) thoroughly and made it quite clear that any chases had to happen outside from then on. It was funny watching a grown skeleton sheepishly twiddle his thumbs in shame.

"Where have you been, by the way?" you asked Flowey, reaching over and brushing some dirt off of his petals. You pretended not to notice him flush and straighten his stem, but it was funny regardless. Maybe if he came around more he'd get used to casual, platonic dirt-wiping.

"Oh, you know. Here and there. Doing some research, sight-seeing, that sorta thing," he said, flipping a leaf nonchalantly. "You wouldn't get it since you're stuck here all the time with Miss Fussy Paws."

"You mean your mom?" 

Flowey gave you a real dirty look this time, and you shrank away, a quick 'sorry' coming out.

"She's your mom, idiot. She's... not mine right now."

"Right now?" you pressed, feeling at-ease enough to risk angering this one friend. Actually, he was probably your only friend you felt this comfortable with. It wasn’t like you could really hurt his feelings- he didn’t have any.

"Yeah- well- maybe not forever I dunno GOSH let's stop talking about this!" Flowey complained, dramatically flopping his head on the ground. "I didn't come to talk about that!"

You nodded. "Well, what did you come to talk about? I haven't seen you in months." Flowey had first popped up half a year after they'd all made it to the surface, going back on his self-promise to stay underground and out of their hair. That had been almost two years ago, and he'd come around only a handful of times since. They were always welcome visits despite his propensity towards being a pot-stirrer.

"You, silly goose!" he said, popping below the ground for a quick second and then back up on your other side, even closer. He slapped away another attempt at keeping him dirt-free. "I was thinking about your SAVE!"

You raised a brow at him. "Uh... okay?"

"You can still do that, right? You didn't turn into a spineless wimp?"

"Yeah, I think so, but it's been a long time since I have. If I'm never going to reset or reload or whatever again, what's the point in bringing up a SAVE?" You’d reset only a handful of times, always because you died and lost your nerve- deciding it was easier to go back to the beginning than to press forward and keep dying. You shivered at the thought.

Flowey grinned. "What if you could do something cool without resetting?"

You went quiet. You looked up at the window, heard mom still humming away, and then back to the flower.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, listen- you know that one part in that one god-awful movie where that wizard finds a wardrobe that rewinds time kinda but ONLY on the one object? I think he does an apple but I honestly don’t remember, it was boring. Do you know it?"

"Ew, you watched that? The author is a mega-bigot."

"Okay, I don't care! Shush!" Flowey said. "Humans are WEIRD and I'm not learning about all the ways you hate each other- my point is that it made me think about you and your resets!"

You rubbed your face. You needed a haircut, you noticed as you pushed the longer-than-normal bangs aside. You'd have to talk to Mew Mew soon, she’d been getting into that sort of thing.

"Flowey, I don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to mess with stuff like that anymore, I promised myself and everybody here that I'd never do it again."

"And you won't!" he said with a wink. You opened your mouth to protest the wink and whatever implication he was making with it, but Flowey was quick to stretch his stem way up and put a leaf to your lips. "But that and some other stuff got me thinking about the possibilities of all that determination in you. Do you see where I’m going yet?"

"No, not really," you said, arms crossed. "You had practically eternity to mess with all that before I came along, if it could be done you would have figured it out."

"Not true! I might be clever but I never had the full picture."

"Inspiration from Transphobe Supreme?"

Flowey stared at you for a second. You groaned, knowing full-well that most monsters didn't know what that meant, and moved on.

"Look, I just... I just don't want to mess with it," you said, rubbing an arm. "I might not have cared so much before, since I didn't know anybody that well and things felt too good to be true, but... but now I know they are true and I'm not going to risk any of them getting mad at me."

Flowey rolled his eyes. "Really? You're not going to try and figure out if you have super powers cause you're scared mommy will get mad?"

You looked away. Yeah, that was exactly what you were saying. Mom, Undyne, Alphys, Papyrus, Sans, Asgore- all of them knew about the resets and if they found out you were messing with determination and SAVES, they'd be mad. Well, one person in particular would be way more mad and it was because he knew way more than the others. You weren't going to put family grocery excursions with the skeleton brothers at risk.

"Friiiisk," Flowey whined, laying his head on your thigh and warping his face into a big-eyed, pleading expression. "C'mon, I've done a lot of poking around the SAVE-data and all that reality-fabric stuff, I know what I'm doing! We just have to alter some of it, not all! Imagine how cool it would be to reset just a little bit! Sans and Papyrus have some irregularities in their data and it lets them do that cool stuff they do!"

"Nope," you said, turning away from him. "I won't imagine it because it's pointless."

"It's not pointless, you just haven't thought about it!" Flowey exclaimed, annoyingly popping up right in front of you again. "What if you could reset the brown bananas on the counter to be yellow again? Or- or reset a plant all the way back to a seed?"

You tried to pivot away from him, but he popped right back up. You opted to close your eyes instead, arms crossed tightly. 

"... dust back to a monster?"

You looked down at the flower, staring up at you with a smile.

"I know you care about all these losers, but what if something bad happens to them ? If Alphys keeled over tomorrow, are you telling me you wouldn't be tempted to reset to last week?"

"Well... well, maybe I’d think about it, but-"

"What if Undyne begs you to, and you do, but then Sans never forgives you?" Flowey asked. You bit your lip- you knew he was just trying to get what he wanted, but he was way too good at it to ignore. Especially when it hit so close to home and what kept you up at night.

"You can't say it wouldn't be nice to just bring her back."

"Of course I can't, but... but that's not how life is. Nobody else gets resets and it- it isn't fair to them." You stared at the dirt between your legs. "...I heard mom and Sans talking one night, and he said that he knew about me a long time ago. He said I was an 'anomaly' and that he'd spent years trying to figure out how to..." You swallowed. "... to stop me."

"Stop you?!" Flowey balked. "Stop you from what, existing? That guy is a trashbag if he-"

"He didn't know," you said softly. "Him and mom had drank a little bit and they thought Papyrus had taken me outside to catch lightning bugs, but he'd actually just fallen asleep on the porch cause he drank a little bit, too-"

"Love the details but I'm dying to know the point," Flowey pressed.

"The point is he didn't know I was there and he said he still doesn't really believe I won't reset again, all the way back to the beginning. Mom said she knew me and she knew that I wouldn't, but that she understood. I didn't hear the first half of the conversation, but Sans sounded kinda sad." You sniffled, not quite crying but almost there. "I think he blames me for something, and I don't want to make him mad."

Flowey stared at your shirt for a few moments as he processed what you'd said. Toriel's humming could be heard in that time, occasionally turning into singing and then back again. The sun was going down in earnest.

"Well, for one," Flowey began as he crossed his own leaves, "we aren't going to reset on accident, but also- if Sans ends up not trusting you, would that really be the end of the world?"

"Yes," you said with a waver in your voice, and the tears won out. Flowey seemed surprised, leaning his stem away from you, and it gave you a chance to rub at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. You grit your teeth, eyes closed, before taking a few deep breaths like Alphys had taught you to, letting the anxiety ease. She knew about your anxiety, and that was all she’d know.

When you opened your eyes, Flowey was looking up at you in... worry? It was something close to it, at least. Mixed with disgust, as usual.

"You, uh... you good?" he asked.

You wiped your nose as you pulled your knees to your chest. "I know you think you know everything, but you don’t ." You felt a little bad being so blunt with him, but you didn't know how else to communicate with the soulless plant. "They're my family, Flowey. My only family."

Flowey's brows knit in confusion before his expression evened out again. After another moment, he frowned.

"I don't want to lose them," You mumbled into your knees.

For once, Flowey didn't  have something smart or rude to say. He wilted a little bit, looking off at nothing. You did your best to hide your face, embarrassed to have cried so easily. Flowey- Asriel- had been through so much, but he had grown up with a family who loved him. A mom and dad- a sibling- people who would still love him if he let them back in. It had taken you ten years to find a semblance of that in a bunch of monsters you hardly knew, and you’d do anything for it. 

You didn't talk about how things had been before you wound up Underground. You didn't want to just be the scared kid from a bad home who cried too much, and you'd been doing such a good job. When the fear rose up- when you felt even the slightest bit rejected or annoying- you had kept it in. You only cried when nobody was around. You didn’t have Chara to help you make the right decisions anymore- it was on you to do that from here on out. And that pressure was suffocating after a brief time of having a second, smarter opinion in your brain. One that everybody liked more than the real you, probably.

So, yes, if even one of them suddenly decided you were not worth it to keep around, it felt like your world would end. 

"I try to forget a lot of the stuff that I learned when I was still a monster, but I don't think family is supposed to be conditional," Flowey finally said in an uncharacteristically soft voice. He looked up at you, face as normal as it could be in his state. "Sure, they might be losers, but I'm pretty sure none of them would show you the door over one little mess-up."

"But you don't know that," you whispered, looking over at the kitchen window where mom was busy baking. Your mom, in your house, where you felt safe. 

What if something happened to her? What if she got really sick and then you were left with nothing again? 

You wouldn't reset- you would never reset or reload, even if thinking about anything bad happening to Toriel made your stomach twist up in knots. But what if Flowey was actually right... what if there was a way to use your power for something else?

"I know them, though,” Flowey continued,  “and I know Toriel would never just boot you out. Papyrus would overlook literal murder."

You wrinkled your nose at that, and Flowey was quick to shrug and say:

"Don't ask. But, pal, even if they do get mad at you, isn't it worth it to find a way to protect them? Some might not understand, but if we can mess with your SAVE without resetting- which we can- isn't being able to bring them back from the dead worth a little bit of emotional turmoil? We might even find some crazy, less reality-bending thing you can do! You’re a human with determination, after all- I’m just a houseplant."

Flowey had a point and you hated it. You looked at him, tears tucked safely away again, before you reached down and patted the top of his petal-y head with your hand. He groaned in not-quite protest.

"Yeah. I'd do anything for you guys."

Flowey's blush at the sentiment quickly faded as he flapped his leaves together in excitement. "Really? You'll do it?"

"I'll help you look into it. But I'm not promising anything- if it looks even a little bit dangerous-"

"Then we stop!" Flowey chirped, moving forward and hugging your wrist. "Oh, wow, I'm so glad I got through to you! I'll be back tomorrow evening, friend! I have to get a couple things ready!"

You smiled. Even if you were uneasy about this, seeing Flowey so happy made it feel far more bearable. 

"Okay. Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"Nope! See ya tomorrow!" he said, and just like that he was gone. 

You let out another big, deep sigh. You looked up at the leaves, swaying gently in the breeze, dappling the ground below with soft patches of light.

Toriel came out ten minutes later to get you for dinner. She still wore her flour-covered apron and a loving smile, though the latter of the two was hardly ever absent.

“Dinner is ready, my child.” Toriel called. She looked around the yard. “Where is Flowey? Is he not joining us tonight?”

You got to your feet and went to your mom, giving her a big hug. You laid your face on her torso regardless of the powder on it. She smelled like the kitchen and cinnamon. She smelled like home.

Toriel hugged you back, getting down on one knee to be easier to reach. She nuzzled her soft cheeks into your hair, something so sweet and affectionate that you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it. 

“He had to go. I tried to get him to stay but I think he’s still a little nervous.” You didn’t mention that it was because Toriel was his mother, because Flowey had not told her that in this timeline and it wasn’t your place to do so.

Toriel laughed. “He does not strike me as the nervous type, but we all have our fronts, do we not?” she said, standing and swooping you up into her strong, furry arms. 

You squeaked, then giggled. “You don’t have to carry me to the table, I can walk,” you said as you snuggled close to her. Even without your second opinion brainworm/safety net combo, you felt safe with Toriel. She was the only one that you trusted to be there no matter what, even if you said the wrong thing. Even if she maybe didn’t like you as much as she’d liked you with your plus one.

“Of course I do not have to, but I want to, and so I shall,” she said, kissing the top of your head. She hummed as she began the walk back to the table, a hand shifting to run across your forehead and move your bangs. She was always so mindful of her claws. “Do you want me to contact a hairdresser soon, dear child? Your hair is getting longer than you usually wear it.”

“Yeah,” you said simply. Toriel noticed the hair, too- it really should have felt normal by now, but having someone care so deeply still felt alien. You closed your eyes and let yourself be carried back indoors. Tomorrow you’d see what Flowey had planned, but tonight you wanted to help Toriel clean the kitchen and watch a silly movie with your newly-acquired mother.

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch. 6

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5

It becomes a sort of evening ritual between the two of you, waking Cassandra up at sunset.

You're always cautious with your movements and how much light you allow in from the hallway as you enter her lavish bedroom, but the cold fear that used to grip at your chest is no longer there.

Measured steps take you to the edge of her bed.

Cassandra usually sleeps on her side, yet today she's on her front, firm back and creamy thigh tantalizingly on display against satin crimson sheets. Her pretty face is turned halfway into her pillow, a river of rich brown waves falling behind her ear and over one shoulder.

The sight makes you stop and stare for a moment. A strange feeling —accomplishment?— swells within your chest at the thought you know just how smooth and sensitive that skin is.

Then you shake your head at yourself. Pull it together. It's one thing to accept you're in a mutually beneficial arrangement with a killer —you remain intact, she scratches an itch, both of you share the pleasure as a means of escape or passing the time— but it is entirely another to be proud of it.

She's nothing of yours. Not your lover, certainly not your girl. That would imply you stand on equal ground which you most certainly do not. You're exactly what she calls you;

A plaything.

The question is, inside your head, what do you call her?

"My lady." you say, keeping your voice low. She doesn't stir but somehow you know she's awake.

"Either wake me up nicely or don't wake me at all." the words come semi-muffled against her pillow. "If I wanted to hear 'my lady' I'd have another maid come."

Well. She does seem to enjoy when you take some creative liberties. So you lean forward and press your lips just over her knee, then move a tad higher on her thigh, then kiss the veins visible on her hand.

Cassandra's mouth slowly pulls into a pleased smile as she turns onto her side. Her fingers then curl on the neckline of your shirt and tug you forward, into a quick little kiss that ends with a nibble on your tongue.

You always get anxious when she does that —it's probably why she does it in the first place— that you'll end up with a piece missing, but so far you haven't even been cut. And if you're honest with yourself, which you're not, but if you were... the thrill is a turn on.

Cassandra licks her lips and scoots back, patting the spot she just vacated on the queen-sized mattress. You look at her, confused. Surely she isn't suggesting...

"Come, now. I don't bite." A devilish smirk curls her mouth while she tells probably the biggest lie of the year. "Keep me company until dinner."

You climb onto her bed like it's a freaking minefield. As carefully as you lower yourself onto the crimson sheets, however, the bruises across your sides still protest. You subtly suck in air through your teeth.

Cassandra's fingers slide over to you, to the exposed part of your waist from where your shirt has risen up. There's a visible patch of purple there that she traces —the coolness of her skin is so soothing— until she presses into it. The brief flare of pain makes you gasp. She giggles.

"You make such nice expressions to pain." she says, as though tempted to draw more from you.

"I've been told my pleasured ones are better." you reply quickly.

Cassandra chuckles. "Is that so?" Her yellowish eyes are gleaming with amusement as she pushes you onto your back and straddles you.

The sight is enough to steal your breath away. The sinful black of her underwear peeks through the royal red of the sheets tangled around her waist, all a wonderful antithesis with her incredibly pale skin.

You want to touch. But then you may lose your hands, so you lock your muscles down and wait for her move.

Cassandra slowly trails a slender finger up your neck, all the way to the underside of your bottom lip. "...yeah, they're good too." she breathes, although you've almost forgotten what you were talking about.

"Can't hold a candle to yours." you whisper back. At this point, you're not really capable of rational thought.

You loathe the effect she has on you. How everything she's done can just be bypassed in your head whenever she gets like this with you.

Cassandra's mouth twists into a near coy little smile. "I'll take your word for it." she says. "There hasn't been anyone else to see them, so."

Wait. Your mind stutters to a halt. Wait. What?

According to rumor, the Dimitrescus have been around for over one hundred years. From what you've seen in the castle, probably longer. And you... you're her first?

"Cat got your tongue?" she giggles again, taking your chin between two long fingers. "I think I may like surprise on you best."

You want to ask if nobody's ever interested her before, but you're afraid to overstep. Cassandra seems to know, though and has no problems answering your unasked question;

"The first few dozen years after the mutations were... very bad. The hunger and thirst were enough to drive one mad. Didn't leave much room for anything else." she explains. "And humans in general are only attractive to me chained up and bled out."

Something inside you recoils at how casually she says it. Like she's simply commenting on the weather.

"But you... you have a little spark that I like." She smirks down at you.

"What about before?" you ask.

"Hm?"

"You said after the mutations. What about before?"

Cassandra's smile gets swallowed up by the abyss so quickly you wonder if you imagined it there. Tension builds at her temples and her eyes take on an icy quality that feels like it extinguishes all warmth in the room.

"There is no before."

You've never heard her voice like that. You hope you never will again, either.

The conversation drifts to lighter subjects, then. She asks you about the world beyond the village and you share what you remember from your childhood, until it is time to escort her to dinner.

But even as she eats and talks with her family, even when she leaves with her mother and sisters and you're left alone, to clean after bloody plates with the other maids, you can't shake off that look in her eyes when you dared ask about her life pre-mutations.

The more you linger on it... there's only one word that comes to mind as an accurate description.

Haunted.

-

-

Deep in your slumber, you hear the telltale buzzing of flies.

Something winged flutters against your cheek, but you merely stir. It prods at your jaw and you grunt. Leave me alone, you want to protest, brain muddled with sleep still.

Until.

A nip that cuts a thin line on your jaw has you springing upright in bed. "Agh!" Your hand flies to the wound, eyes wide.

A familiar form materializes out of an insect swarm, right in front of you. Cassandra grabs at your hand before you can start flailing and panicking any harder than you already are. Your lungs empty of hair in the milliseconds it takes you to realize she's not here to kill you.

Probably.

"Calm down." she says it like you're overreacting.

You try to take a deep, relaxing breath, but she leans forward in the meantime, running the tip of her tongue over the fresh cut on you. So much for oxygen. She even hums against your neck. Despite the sting, your stomach flutters.

Cassandra pulls back, licking her lip. "There. All better now?"

No. Your heart is trying to jump out of your chest. Has she never heard of knocking? For the love of everything Holy out there, it's the middle of the night.

"W-what are you doing here?" you ask.

A dramatic huff escapes her. "I'm bored."

Ah, yes, that makes a lot of sense. You spare a moment to wonder what your life has come to, then accept lack of proper rest and sit back against your pillows. Cassandra takes it as an invitation to push off her hood and plant herself next to you.

"Do you... want to go for a walk outside?" you suggest, uncertain.

Her eyes light up like a Christmas tree for a moment. Then she seems to remember something that dims the glow. "Ugh. Can't. It's way too cold tonight."

That... shouldn't be and issue for her, should it? It makes you wonder.

"Well, if I stay here I'm going to fall asleep." you sheepishly admit.

Cassandra's gaze darkens as she runs her fingertips down the taut skin of your bare middle, leaning over you like a lioness cornering her prey.

"I don't mind biting you awake if you do."

You want to say that you mind, yet her lips are on top if yours, smooth, tasting of strawberry lipbalm and that's the end of that conversation.

"But I am willing to cut you a deal." A manicured nail presses a bit at the middle of your chest. "Put that smart tongue of yours to good use and I'll let you get your sleep."

So spoiled and so demanding, you think. But then, looking at her face this close up... So beautiful.

You forget all about sleep for the next half hour or so as you focus solely on Cassandra, your bedroom filling with her quiet sighs and moans.

True to her word, she does ease back when she's satisfied and you're so tired your eyes start drooping before you've even lowered your head to your pillow.

She doesn't move to leave though... and you find that you don't mind.

When you drift off to sleep this time, your last thought is that the gentle chill of her body beside yours is almost...

Comforting.

[discopiratetanis]

Oh Goodness, this is pretty cute!! I would ask you for a number 1?? I like the idea of Geralt smelling Jaskier and enjoy his smell. Deep inside Geralt is a softie. If you ask me this will be cute! Thanks, dear

Prompt: 1. You smell really nice

Words: 1685

Prompt list

Read on Ao3

Ko-fi

I can’t believe I wrote this in less than twenty-four hours xD

I hope you like it ❤

It had been two weeks since the last time they had set foot in a minimally civilized place. Because it was cheaper and because the villagers didn’t like to see witchers near if there weren’t any monsters eating their sheep. Geralt was used to that, to the wildlife, the paths through mountains, woodlands and almost endless meadows with no village in miles and miles around. 

It meant more peace.

But less money, remember that, my dear friend.

That was Jaskier would say. Monsters far away from towns were no prey for witchers. Not if the monsters didn’t attack them. Not if there was no payment after.

That was the first rule. 

That was the first thing Jaskier had to learn. Yes, tales about witchers said they didn’t kill monsters for the greatest good, but tales were tales and Jaskier knew better than anyone that all the stories, all the ballads, and all the poems were enriched with lies. One of those lies was that witchers killed all monsters even if nobody paid them. That witchers hunted down monsters without a contract, not for the greatest good but for the sake of the hunt. And because witchers were monsters too and the only living being able to kill a monster was, deep down, another monster.

But Jaskier also knew Geralt was no monster.

And what Geralt thought about that was… It was a lie. 

The Lie.

Still.

Brown and golden leaves covered the forest ground forming an orange and yellowish mantle, sometimes dark and putrid where the fungi devoured the dead remains of other plants. There was a pleasant semi-silence, broken by the creaking of the leaves under boots and hooves, Roach’s occasionally huffs, and the chirps of the afternoon last birds. Geralt was walking beside Roach, guiding her by the bridles, waiting for the night to set the camp. Jaskier was walking a few steps behind mare and witcher, distracted with the view of the woods under the sunset amber light. Sometimes he picked up a leaf, recited some more or less poetic phrase and then threw the leaf with drama.

And Geralt couldn’t help finding himself smiling a little.

“New song?” he asked after one of those not quite poetic phrases. 

He heard how Jaskier, in light of the question, rushed his pace for matching Geralt’s speed. The witcher curved a new and tiny, very tiny, smile that faded away before the bard could see it.

“Well, no, not really,” Jaskier replied with a grin of enjoyment. “I’m practicing, I want to describe better sights, nicer, you know? I know I lack that.”

“You think so?” Geralt couldn’t tell if that was true, all of Jaskier’s songs were the same for him. Good songs, music he had learned to admire and respect, but all the same.

“I know so,” Jaskier sounded serious and convinced, still the amusement in his voice. He let out a loud and theatrical sigh and waved his hand pointing out the woods. “Look, Geralt, isn’t it beautiful? The trees with this light, all this orange, this full spectacle of color and shades, the shimmer in the horizon shattered by the leaves and the trunks?” Jaskier trotted a little ahead and faced Geralt while walking backward and framed the witcher with both hands. “Then you, the dark contrast in all this glow, the shadow, all black and leather, all brooding silence, all stiffness, a witcher walking alongside his loyal companion.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and snorted.

“You are going to fall,” he said.

“Excuse me,” Jaskier disagreed, with the most dignified expression he was capable of performing. “But I’m not that clumsy, thank you, I'm–”

Then, as if Geralt has had seen the future, Jaskier tripped and fell on his butt. Geralt stopped and Roach neighed with happiness. This time Geralt didn’t hide a smile.

“Ha-ha, very funny, ” Jaskier growled from the ground, legs spread and hands plunged in the mantle of leaves. He whined. “Oh, Gods and Fate, the ground is wet. Geralt–” He looked up at the witcher, noticed his delightful face, and puffed out his cheeks feeling them burning. “Geralt, stop laughing at me and help me.”

Geralt shook his head and stepped towards him, offering Jaskier a hand. The bard grabbed it and got up fast as if he was a feather because Geralt could lift him with no effort. Jaskier huffed, faking being outraged, and rubbed his hands in his pants with all the pain of his heart. Geralt watched him in silence, only one step away from him, still smiling, and took a deep breath.

And then he lost himself.

It wasn’t as if he never sensed Jaskier’s scent before, of course. In fact, he was more than used to it. It was everywhere.

All the time. 

He could recognize it among a crowd of villagers who hadn’t bathed in years. He could keep track of it even if Jaskier was days ahead of him and the trail was already cold for everyone else. He could know through it if Jaskier was happy, anxious, worried, sad or satisfied among other things. He could know if Jaskier was horny and didn’t want Geralt to know it. Wich was funny because Jaskier knew witchers could see, hear and smell everything. 

Not really everything but everything.

For the rest of the people, Jaskier smelled different every day. The bard took good care of that. He would use whatever he could use to mask any scent he didn’t want to smell in himself, either were perfumes, soap, incense, oils, ointments or flowers from the road itself. It didn’t matter what.

And certainly, it didn’t matter to Geralt either. The core was always the same and that was what he liked.

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice, curious and inquisitive, almost caught him off-guard. Geralt closed his eyes for a second and breathed out a deep grunt. “Everything it’s okay? It’s a monster? Do you want to take another path?” The bard held his breath, looked around and gripped the strap of his lute case. “Now I can picture a new song,” he said. “The Ballad of the Bright Amber Woods, where Geralt of Rivia, the Mighty Witcher, the White Wolf, fought a dangerous and terrible…” He turned around, facing Geralt. “What monster is?”

Gerald opened his eyes and gazed at Jaskier, at his pretty blue eyes, his slightly parted pale pink lips, his face still somewhere between childhood and adulthood with soft and sharp features mixed. Geralt tilted his head a little. He smelled worried in Jaskier, alongside… wonder. He wanted to sink his face in the bard’s neck and inhale deeply, taste his scent with tongue and teeth.

“Geralt?”

“You smell really nice.” It was a whisper, a low and hoarse rumor that made Jaskier feel a shiver running down his body.

“I… what?” Jaskier babbled. Beside Geralt, Roach caressed the witcher’s hair and shoulder with her snout, huffing softly on him. Geralt curved a small smile and patted the mare’s neck. Jaskier blinked, realizing there was no monster near. “Geralt, my sweet witcher, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I haven’t had a bath for a week and a half, I can feel the dirt crawling for all my body, it’s impossible for me to smell nice right now.”

Geralt tilted his head.

“Maybe,” he mumbled. He took one step ahead and entered Jaskier’s personal bubble. He heard the bard’s heartbeat speed up in half a second and smelled his sudden nervousness that made his blue eyes glow a little more. Geralt’s gaze shifted between his eyes and his lips. Twice. “Maybe you haven’t had a bath in a long time, maybe you smell like sweat, mud, and grime. Maybe you are covered in dust. I know that what you most want right now is submerging yourself in rose water. I could feel it, it makes you want to howl in despair.” Geralt raised his free hand. Jaskier had his doublet unlaced, the chemise mid open, as always, even if those days the wind were almost cold. And Geralt knew why. He touched skin, Jaskier’s chest between pecs, and tapped once there with two fingers. The heartbeat turned out impossibly fast and Jaskier began to irradiate heat as if he were the sun. 

“But deep down, Jaskier, you smell like soft feathers, like freshly baked bread, like buttercup and daisies, like oil and wood.” Geralt narrowed his eyes a little, slowly. “Like a safe bonfire in the middle of the night. Like sweet ale. It doesn’t matter if you covered yourself in whatever cheap cologne you want to use or if you hadn’t bathed in years. That’s your core scent and that’s the smell I’ll sense on you always.”

And then Geralt, as if he had realized how much he had talked without thinking, blinked, went stiff and walked away from Jaskier with Roach huffing happy behind him. Jaskier, who was trembling without realizing it, exhaled a deep broken breath and hurried to follow Geralt.

“Wait, wait a moment,” he said out of breath, still shaking, feeling his head full of bees. “You can’t say those things and not kiss me after, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Geralt sighed, no, grunted.

“Nothing is wrong with me. I said too much, forget it,” he said.

“Of course I won’t. That was the most beautiful thing someone had said to me in my life,” Jaskier complained and then his expression softened. “And it was you who said it…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Geralt saw Jaskier biting his lower lip, and he smelled happiness, pure joy, and unconditional love. He could recognize it, it was a sweet scent. Jaskier walked beside him in a new and comfortable silence, with the last glint of bright sunlight shining in Jaskier’s hair with little and glossy yellow diamonds.

“I love you too, you know,” Jaskier said then, with a weak and confident whisper. 

Geralt kept walking without looking at him, feeling surrounded by the bard’s scent, strong, powerful and cozy. He flashed a grin. Then he said:

“Yes, I know.”