#lilywrites

[the-littlest-lily]

No Touch.

Cherry looked up at her boyfriend with the fiercest glare she could muster. “I said. I need. To work.”

“Oh come on,” a chuckle rolled over the fairy’s tiny body just as Rowan pulled his head away from her. “I wasn’t going to stop your work, I just wanted to give you a passing kiss is all. I’m so boooored. And I love you.”

The glare was still going strong, even though Cherry was back to using the odd device that was her equivalent of a computer. “The rule is,” she said firmly, “Don’t touch me. You can game or whatever while you’re in the room, I don’t mind the noise. But until I say otherwise. No. Touch.”

“Right, right, fine.” The comparative giant looked his studious partner up and down, all four inches of her. Her frame was hunched forward as she hugged one knee up against her torso, her wings slicked back in an unamused slant. “I can see you’re very busy. Finish up your work day and then I get you all to myself for the entire weekend. Deal?” 

The fairy spared a quick look his way, her conflicted gaze betraying how much she too was looking forward to them spending time as a couple this weekend. If only it weren’t for this looming deadline. She managed a tense smile. “Deal.”

Rowan got to his feet to relocate to the sofa that was just beside his desk where Cherry would be working away. He wasn’t particularly wanting to play any games right now, so he popped on the latest sci fi show he’d been getting into lately while simultaneously scrolling on his phone. Every so often he would sneak a glance in the direction of his girl in deep focus on his desk. A glance wouldn’t hurt. A glance wasn’t touching.

But glances weren’t enough. Not nearly enough - how was he supposed to resist the adorable little creature he normally got to call his own?! He watched as she sat cross-legged in her chair, twirling one long strand of deep blue hair around her finger repeatedly. Such tiny fingers. So delicate and cute. And he knew what those little digits were capable of. This was torture.

Eventually Rowan couldn’t help just… scooching over. Further from the center of the sofa and closer to the desk. It was subtle enough not to catch the fairy’s attention. He noticed his glass of water was still by his own computer, and with this excuse he stretched his arm out across the desk. Cherry did react to this, jumping slightly at the sudden motion. Her eyes scanned the length of her boyfriend’s arm, giving him a wary look. 

“Not touching,” he assured her. But when he brought his hand back to get his sip of water, he conveniently left his elbow still sitting on the desk. 

The mindless scrolling became even more mindless, because Rowan’s attention was more fixed on his girlfriend than ever. He just loved the way those little wings twitched whenever she seemed to come up with some kind of idea and hurried into a typing spree. And if he didn’t know better, he could have sworn that sometimes her wings seemed to twitch simply from her stealing glances towards where his arm was resting. Interesting…

Like a curious scientist, Rowan slowly began extending his arm again. He tried to appear as casual as possible, as if he was just getting comfortable - as awkward as it was to lean on the desk instead of the couch proper. But in the process he was sort of… encircling Cherry, just a little bit. His hand came to rest a couple of inches behind the fairy.

She tsk’d with irritation. “Rowan…” she started.

“Not touching!” he insisted. But the smile he gave her was more of a smirk now. Maybe he was in the mood for games after all.

Cherry huffed and got right back to work, typing furiously. But the more time passed, the more she struggled to hide how distracted she was by the proximity of her boyfriend’s hand. Still, she refused to address him further for dozens of long minutes.

Rowan realized he was watching her unabashedly now, not even pretending to look at either screen that was supposed to be entertaining him. Eventually he set his phone down in his lap, staring adoringly at the fairy, wondering at what point she would notice. She seemed determined to keep her head down though.

Like a snake on the hunt, one long pinky finger slithered towards the unsuspecting fairy, sliding up behind her. She happened to have one foot dangling off her chair at the moment. Rowan brought his fingertip close, so close, millimeters away, until Cherry felt the body heat against her toes. She yanked her feet up onto her chair and sat on them. Her shoulders were rising up to her ears and the slightest bit of color was blooming in her cheeks. Still she refused to look away from her computer.

With a smug smile, Rowan let his head sink, casting a shadow over his girlfriend’s frame that caused her whole body to tense. He was determined to loom just as heavily as her deadline. He knew the effect that he had on his tiny partner, after all. He pursed his lips and blew out a long, gentle stream of warm air that made her wings shiver and her hair dance. 

Cherry suddenly clapped her hands into her lap and looked straight upwards. She was irritated, of course. But he was now certain she was blushing too.

“I realize I’m not saving lives or anything,” Cherry said stiffly, “but can you please take my job seriously?”

Rowan grinned. “I am! I just… believe in you. I have faith that you’ll get this done.” 

He sat up a little straighter so that he could rearrange the position of his arm. His hand descended to his girlfriend’s left, the tip of his forefinger touching the surface of the desk. His voice grew velvety smooth.

“Even despite…”

Rowan begin to slide his finger slowly around Cherry, miniature desk and all. 

“... any little…”

The finger circled, gliding along behind her. The fairy glanced at it for just a moment before her eyes ticked back to her screen. But she was readjusting in her chair. Squirming.

“...distractions.”

Rowan couldn’t stop himself there, now lifting his entire hand so that it could hover over Cherry’s workspace like a massive umbrella. He flexed his fingers, wiggled them, let them trail along the back of the fairy’s chair, seeming to never stop approaching despite never making contact.

All at once, Cherry grabbed the top of the device and slammed it down like a closing book. “Okay. Finished.”

Rowan grinned. “I knew you could do it.”

Cherry’s face was practically glowing as she gave him a half-hearted scowl. “I probably did a shit job on that report.” 

“Nonsense,” her boyfriend chuckled, “I’m sure you did brilliantly.”

The fairy was now staring at the enormous hand that was dangling over to her right, still just out of reach. “Are you not going to…?” she grumbled.

His smile could not get anymore cocky. “Have you said ‘otherwise’?”

“Rowan!” 

And with that Cherry gasped as the giant face of her partner was suddenly swooping in her direction. Her wings fluttered with surprise and she let out a little squeak as a pair of lips swiftly enveloped her entire face. Rowan reveled in the warmth of her cheeks and the way her body relaxed against the kiss he had been yearning for so desperately. Then he brought his hand in for good measure too, scooping his girl right off the chair and pinning her to his palm with another embrace of his mouth. The giggle this drew out was the perfect prize.

*~*~*

I don't think I've posted my writing to Tumblr before have I? Let's gooooo

So I have been doing these little challenges with a couple of friends where we hop on a call and write a short story with an hour time limit. They have been very fun to do and helpful in stretching out the writing muscles! But for the most part that's all it's been, none of them have felt developed/polish enough to merit posting. I ended up liking this one though so I thought, why not!

The prompt for this was "how to make a tiny blush" hehe.

[lilydoesanon]

another Reddit-inspired idea:

Dick is in a toxic/abusive maybe/unfulfilled relationship (maybe Catalina or maybe I’d just make up a random asshole) and they bully him into opening up the relationship bc they want to sleep with other people

and Dick doesn’t want that but he also doesn’t feel he can leave?

but he tries, he goes on a few dates, nothing really sticks and he just feels shitty bc the partner is enjoying it, having fun, and Dick is just hanging onto this relationship bc he doesn’t feel like he can let go

and then comes along Jason

maybe he senses that Dick is unhappy, maybe he doesn’t like the partner, maybe he just decides to keep him company for a night and then it turns into more

or maybe they don’t know each other and Dick gets rescued from a lonely night by this handsome stranger, and then they keep seeing each other

but either way, Jason shows Dick what a loving relationship is and that gives Dick the strength to break away from the partner

(and then he takes a break from all relationships for about six months to get his head on straight (or gay hehe) but Jason waits for him and Dick only wants him anyway and they share a tender kiss when Dick feels ready to commit fully)

[lilysaus]

guys i caved and started a welcome home fanfic centered around an au of mine

ive only posted chapter one, but chapter two is already in the works!

[rottinglittlelilies]

Saw a bunch of people posting their AO3 fics on this site so here's mine!

Summary:

After the mess with the Decay of Angels and the Rats, negotiations, and bargaining, all Dazai wanted was a nice, peaceful year, full of suicides, beautiful women, and annoying short little slugs.

 He didn't expect to be sent on the biggest mission of his life.

 Or: Dazai, Chuuya, Akutagawa, and Atsushi are all sent on an infiltration mission to a mysterious wizarding school, uncovering secrets, and traumatizing children. (Oh, they also fight the most powerful wizard in history, but that's unimportant.)

[fields-of-lilies-are-pretty]

Sign watched Bob go.

Worry and anxiety ate away at him from the inside. Sunny hadn't looked very good. There was so much blood...

"Dada?"

Sign jumped. He'd almost forgotten about Milo. He crouched down, smiling.

"Yeah, kiddo? What's up?"

Milo looked in the direction Bob and the others had gone, a childlike concern in his eyes.

"Whehs Papa goin? Why da bwoo wady an her fwen wook so sad?"

Sign bit his lip. How in the world could he explain what he'd seen in a way that wouldn't scar Milo forever? He took a deep breath, putting his hand on Milo's cheek and turning his head to meet his eyes.

"His fr- um, his... papa... was hurt. The blue lady and her friend were friends with him. So Papa went with them to make sure he's okay."

Calling Sunny Bob's "papa" felt weird. Unnatural. Wrong. Like a betrayal to... He shook it away. She did it to herself.

(Or did she? Was it only her fault? She only did what she thought was right. And didn't you do the same to him?)

He ignored the thoughts, focusing on Milo's worried face.

"Don't worry, Milo. Papa will be back soon."

Milo looked back, starting up a small, quiet, worried hum that he didn't seem aware of.

"Papa's sad. He sow happy faces when he tahted to me, but he jus make-ded pwetendin."

Milo looked back up at Sign with a strangely mature look.

"Why he make-ded pwetendin, Dada? Why he no happy see me?"

Sign felt his heart twist in his chest. He hugged Milo, holding him close and ignoring the ache that the action caused in his healing neck and shoulders.

"Oh, Milo, he's happy. He's so happy to see you. He's just... having a really hard time. His mama, she... Well, she wasn't very nice to me or him. She made herself not be his mama anymore. But he still loves her. So he... He's having a hard time being happy right now."

"Oh."

Milo curled his little fingers into Sign's hoodie, frowning.

"Das sad."

He looked up, a sudden determined look in his shining grey eyes.

"I wanna make dem not sad. I wanna make dem happy."

Sign smiled sadly.

"That's sweet of you, Milo, but you can't. This isn't something that can be fixed easily. If it could, Bo- Papa wouldn't be as sad."

Milo frowned and shook his head fervently.

"No! I make dem happy! I make Papa happy! I make Gramma happy! I do it cuz I a big kid!"

Sign felt his heart breaking. This hurt to hear.

"She's not your grandma, kiddo. Not anymore."

Milo shoved himself away, shrieking angrily at the top of his lungs.

"YES SHE IS!!! SHE STILL HIS MAMA ISIDE A HER HEART!!!! AN I MAKE HER HAPPY!!!"

Sign grabbed Milo's arm before he could run off, sensing that was what might come next. Milo instantly calmed down, though he glared grumpily at Sign. Sign pulled him back into a hug, kissing the top of Milo's head.

"I know you do, kiddo. I do, too. But this is something we have to let them figure out on their own. That's the only way for it to be fixed."

Milo crossed his arms, grumpy.

"Bu dat tould take foevuh!"

Sign brushed Milo's fluffy, curly hair from his eyes and smiled sadly.

"Yes, it could. But it's better than forcing it."

They sat in silence for a long time, Milo in Sign's lap. An idea hit Sign. He looked down at Milo, smiling.

"How would you like to meet more of your family, Milo? Do you wanna meet my siblings? Your aunts and uncle?"

Milo looked up at Sign, suddenly excited, his earlier anger forgotten.

"YES!!!"

Sign chuckled, gently moving Milo off his lap to stand up. He ruffled Milo's hair before holding out his hand. Milo took it instantly, and Sign felt a warmth in his chest that he'd almost forgotten how to feel. A feeling of love so warm and so strong, he was surprised he'd gone so long not feeling it. He squeezed Milo's hand, letting a smile spread across his face that made Milo giggle.

"Well then, Milo, let's go say hi to your aunt, Octavia."

Octavia was alone.

She had been for quite a while now. At least two weeks, if she was remembering correctly. It ate away at her, worrying her nerves. They should have been home by now. Should have left this place behind, been happy together in their little cottage on the flower-crowned hill.

And yet...

She couldn't stop feeling this nagging in the back of her mind. Steven's words dug pits in her mind and heart. How he didn't think he belonged with them outside the circus. How he felt like he didn't have a place with his own family.

How he loved Bob enough to leave his family.

(But isn't he an adult? Isn't he old enough to decide for himself? If he wants to stay here, live here, who are you to tell him no?)

She sighs. It seemed like her original argument to keep him here was fading. He was happy, he was loved, and most importantly, he felt it. Who was she to take that away from him?

A knock on her door snaps her out of it. She looks up, then forces herself to her feet. She glances towards Steven's suit, hanging in her closet. She hated lying to Bob. He had done nothing to deserve what she wanted to do. Separate him and her brother. He didn't deserve it. He was so sweet and kind to Steven, so loving towards him, so kind and friendly to her. Neither of them deserved to be forced apart.

The knock comes again. She closes her closet to hide the suit, just in case, then opens the door.

"Yeah, who is i-"

She stared. It was Steven. He smiled a little awkwardly, tilting his head. Her eyes went right to his neck. It was bandaged, but above it, his chin was burned. Bad. It looked like it would still hurt too much to move. She looked up, asking her question with her eyes. He looked sheepish.

"Right, uh... That was Sun. I... kinda brought it on myself by-"

He suddenly stopped himself, glancing back. She followed his gaze as he continued.

"Actually, I'll tell you about it later. I've brought someone to meet you."

He stepped to the side, and Octavia was suddenly tackled by a little brown and blue blur. She stumbled back, startled, and looked down. A little boy hugged her legs, his hair a dark brown, except for a small patch of blueish white at the base of his part. She took special note of the golden halo and ice blue wings. He looked up at her with silvery grey eyes that reflected the warm, yellow light above, making them appear almost bronze in color. His vitiligo and spattering of freckles made his small, plump face all the cuter. She felt her heart melt and looked up at Steven. He smiled warmly.

"Meet Milo. My son. Mine and Bob's."

Her eyes widened.

"What? Since when?"

"Since yesterday. Bob found him first, found him in the cemetery, I think. Neither of us know where he came from, but he knew us as his parents the moment Bob mentioned our names, so he's ours now."

Octavia looked down at Milo, stroking his curly hair. It was slightly damp, most likely from the snow and the storm outside. His smile was contagious, but she felt her heart twist.

(Yet another reason for Steven to stay...)

Milo suddenly reached his arms up in her face. It took her a moment to realize that he was asking to be picked up without using words. She hoisted him up, smiling at him.

"Well hello, Milo! How are you?"

He stared at her silently for a moment. She glanced at her brother, confused, when Milo suddenly tapped her nose with his finger.

"Boop!"

He dissolved into giggles, burying his face in her neck. She felt her heart swell with joy and pride, but at the same time, it hurt. He was so cute, so innocent... Steven would never leave now. She looked at him now, trying to hide her sadness behind a gentle, welcoming smile.

"Why don't you two come inside?"

She looked at Milo with a playful grin.

"I've got some paper and pencils. You wanna draw?"

Milo gasped, excited. She put him down and let him run inside, then held the door open for her brother. His smile, though warm and happy, held that hint of awkwardness that she was feeling.

"Thanks, 'tavi. I was hoping you would be fine with this."

"Of course I am! You're my brother! He's your son! I could never stay mad at you, and I could never be mad at him. Now come on, you've got some explaining to do about that burn."

He laughed, and she did too, and he walked past her. As she followed and closed the door, a thought pierced her mind like a knife, stabbing straight into her heart as she realized the truth of it.

(I can never make him leave now.)

[origami-is-life]

Origami stares at her brother.

He's a mess. His hair is messed up, his face is tear-stained, his eyes are puffy and red.

"Oh, Sign..."

She hugs him tight.

"What happened while I was gone?"

He doesn't speak for a long time. Too many thoughts, too many emotions. He finally settles on a question rather than an answer.

"...Where did you go?"

Origami pulls back to look at him. His scarred face. His reddened, haunted eyes. His missing limb. He had even developed a slight limp from some old injury to his leg. It broke her heart that he had been beaten down so many times that he had come to look like this. He won't for long, she told herself.

"Let's go sit down. There's a lot I need to tell you..."

~~~~~~~~

"So you're telling me that not only do we have an older brother, but a younger sister as well?"

Origami nods. Sign frowns a little.

"And... and you have a way out of here?"

"Yup."

"And you and... you said her name was Katrina? You and Katrina came back to find me and our... brother, Simon?"

"That's... exactly what I just told you, yes."

Sigh sighs, staring at his hand. His thoughts tumble over each other, making it hard to think. He sighs again and looks up, a sad and guilty look in his eyes.

"...I can't, 'ga- er, Octavia. I-I... I don't want to."

"...What?"

She leans forward, panic filling her chest.

"You have to! We need to be together!"

Sign shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Ori- er, Octavia. If he can't follow me out there, then I don't want to leave. I love him, no matter what he does. If he stays here, so do I."

Origami stares at her brother. Panic and an infinite sadness fills her.

"But... you belong with us! Your family!"

"'Tavi, if I go with you, I will break his heart. And no matter how many times he breaks mine, whether on accident or on purpose, I will never break his. Besides..."

He takes her hand, pleading with his eyes for her to understand.

"...from what you've told me, I don't really belong with you guys. You and Katrina are magical girls. Simon is a genius. Heck, you can bring your origami to life! And me... I'm just... normal. Boring. Nothing inherently special about me. I don't belong with you guys out there. At least in here, I've actually made a difference. I can turn into this eldritch horror thingy, I'm dating a ghost. I mean, in here, I am special!"

Origami's heart breaks at hearing this. She grabs his hand with both of hers, tears in her eyes.

"Sign, please! You are special! Please... I came here the first time to save you. To get you out. That's the only reason I came back, is for you."

"And I'm really grateful to hear how much you care!"

Sign smiles warmly and wipes a tear from her face.

"Really, I am. But I can't leave if Bob can't follow. I... I love him too much. You've never dated anyone, but you do know what it's like to love someone so much, you'd do anything for them. And yes, while that's gotten me killed twice already, it's what I live by. You know that more than anyone, I bet."

Origami stares at him, tears streaming down her face. She throws her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. Her voice is broken and uneven.

"I-I need you, St-Steven. Y-You can't do this t-to me. Not again..."

Sign is silent for a moment, but when he does speak, it's clear he's standing by his decision.

"I'm sorry, 'tavi, but I'm staying here."

Origami is silent for a moment, then suddenly stands up. She doesn't face him.

"Fine."

She walks towards the door, turning her head slightly to spit words filled with malice at him.

"Then I hope you'll be happy here with no family and no memory of them."

Before he can protest, she's out the door and down the hall.

[sign-anon]

Sign finds himself standing on the edge of the lake, staring at the circus. He doesn't remember walking here, nor why, for a moment. Just that something, someone is missing. But why would he feel that way? He's in the spot where the happiest moment of his life occurred, where Bob-

Bob.

And now he knows why he's here. Because he's trying to cling to whats left.

(He'll come back. He will. He always does. He told me himself. He's died so many times before. It'll be okay. I know it will.)

But does he really believe that? Why would the anons make such a big deal out of it, knowing he comes back so fast?

And the cemetery. He passed it coming here. He saw it. It was such a mess. Bob would never have let that happen. He had never been gone this long. He always came back so fast, he...

Sign's eyes find the ice of the lake. The thinner spots in the middle. A spot near the edge that's not fully frozen over yet. Put too much weight there, and...

He shakes his head. Running from his problems through death won't fix anything. He'll come back too. And Bob might still be...

He whimpers, hugging himself. He wishes there were a way to run from this, to get away from here, where he won't suffer any...

(There is. And I turned it down before. When I was happy. When Bob...)

He stares at the ice. He has a kid. He can't. He...

He takes a single step closer to the broken edge.

[lilysaus]

The first few deaths were dismissed as pure coincidence.

They were older men that died, anyway. Only a few years from death. People assumed they died because they pushed themselves too hard out of greed. The families were consoled, the miners were buried, and the stories were forgotten.

But the deaths continued.

Mostly outside of the mine at first. All older men, all dismissed as overworking and coincidence. It happened infrequently enough that it was easy to ignore. Easy to dismiss. Easy to treat as if it weren't becoming a problem.

Then a young man passed out in the mine.

He was only twenty-three.

The panic started three weeks later. More people began to die, dropping like bees in a forest fire.

It didn't take long before the mine was closed and the families of the deceased were thoroughly compensated.

But the scars remained.

They never did find all the mana crystals, though.

A massive mana crystal mine has been discovered, sparking a gold rush as miners from every nation flock to claim their share. What no one realizes is that the crystals grow by quietly absorbing mana, from the miners themselves. The deeper they dig, the weaker they become.

[chiefnooniensingh]

i’m working on my inpsiration for my book (because writing is hard and finding pictures is fun) but it’s actually helping because now i know my main couple will be a Trinity/Neo-Katara/Zuko-Elizabeth/Will couple that fights an evil force together, but first need to remember each other (a la Trinity and Neo in the last movie).

[open--till--midnight]

My Time at Corvo Bianco

eskel x f!reader

summary | while visiting geralt at his home in toussaint, eskel meets a dyer from the port who agrees to dye his favorite jacket, and he begins questioning everything

wc | 4.2k

read on ao3

✰ ✰ ✰

“Wolf!”

“Eskel, took you long enough!”

Eskel passed the archway into Corvo Bianco, dismounted, pulled Geralt into a tight hug, and patted him on the back when he pulled away. 

“So many contracts in Toussaint, hard to turn down the coin.”

Geralt led Eskel and Scorpion to the stables, where a hand took over from there.

“I know that all too well.”

“Not anymore though?” 

“Seems not. I take a few here and there, but I don’t have much reason to. I’ve got a home, a wife, and mostly, I don’t even miss the path.”

“Seems to have all worked out in the end for you?”

“It’ll happen for you too, Eskel, if you let it. Witchers are a dying people, no use in continuing after some point.”

“I doubt it, my place is on the path. But I’m glad things have been working out for you.” Eskel was sincere in everything he said, he was happy for his brother.

“Don’t let your doubts keep you from happiness, I was there, but it turns out retirement is a welcome change from the constant abuse.”

Eskel chuckled and let Geralt open his home’s door, leading into a cozy open room with a dining table in the middle where the two sat down.

From midday to well into the night, they talked. Last they spoke was at the battle of Kaer Morhen, and those were certainly not good memories. 

The drinks kept conversation light, though, and laughter could be heard from outside the home’s walls. 

The night ended with Geralt showing Eskel up the stairs to his guest room, where he would be staying for the foreseeable future. Eskel needed rest, and here he would get it.

He set his pack down on the bedside table, rummaging through it for his journal. He’d taken to writing after the battle to deal with the loss of his mentor and he continued since then. Most of what he wrote was mundane and meaningless, but it brought him a sense of familiarity. A sense of normalcy. 

He wrote by candlelight until his eyes grew heavy and he settled for the night where he got the first night of real rest he’d had in years. A roof over his head and a bed beneath him without the compromise of loud noise in a tavern or inn. The silence was welcome. 

Eskel woke to a rooster crow and a bright ray of light over his tired form. He lay on his back for a few moments, taking everything in, already starting to understand the appeal of retirement. The smell of breakfast cooking coaxed him downstairs where he found Geralt in the kitchen.

“Finally learned to cook then?”

“I always knew how to cook.”

“That’s news to me.” Eskel took a seat. “Where’s Yennefer?” 

“On a trip, she needed the cooler weather for a change. She’ll be back within the week. She’s happy here, guess you could say we’re both retired now.”

“Never thought you’d say that, did you?”

“Can’t say that I would have.”

The two ate in comfortable silence, a change from the other meals he shared with strangers in crowded taverns. The food was also remarkably different. No taste of the previous day's meal left lingering from the pan in the next day's food and fresh ingredients made more of a difference than he’d thought.

While walking around the grounds, Eskel changed the subject of conversation by asking Geralt to show him around Beauclair. He agreed and they readied their horses.

“Any armorers you like in the city? My jacket is in need of some care.” Eskel laughed.

“Absolutely, there’s one who helps me with crafting some old witcher gear we’ve found diagrams for. He’s the best I've come across.”

When they reached the armorer Eskel shucked off his jacket and handed it over. It had been needing repair for far too long, and wouldn’t do much to protect against a serious attack anymore. Jacket in hand, the man looked the armor over, giving his estimate on coin and time. A steep price, but you got what you paid for in Beauclair.

Geralt and Eskel headed over to the nearest tavern for a drink while they waited.

“I could get used to this, Geralt. I don’t think I could ever stop taking contracts fully, but you know, a place to call home, to go back to every night.”

“Not gonna say I told you so, but the life does get a hold of you. Turns out comfort is incredibly important to happiness.”

“I think I’m starting to agree with you there.”

When the time to head back to the armorer came, Eskel walked there with racing thoughts.

When they entered the shop, the armorer greeted them, “Just in time!” He set the jacket on the counter and looked up at Eskel, “This was red, right? It looks a bit faded. I’d say if you’re interested, in the Beauclair port there's a group of people who’ll dye clothes for a fair price. If you care about that sort of thing I think it's worth it.”

Eskel thanked the man, paid and then the pair then headed out. 

“How do you feel about that? I know where he’s talking about, I know one of the women who works there, I could take you.”

After he agreed, the two mounted their horses and headed up to the port, taking in the sights in silence. This part of town was busier than the rest it seemed. People were coming and going, and merchants were trying their hardest to get potential customers' attention. 

When they arrived, Eskel gawked at all the colors. He’d thought he’d seen it all when he entered Toussaint, colored clothes were a common thing here, but to see all the concentrated colors was almost breathtaking. But his thoughts stopped in their tracks when you walked up to them. 

“Welcome back, Geralt! You’ve brought company?” Your demeanor was always light and airy, like a lone cloud in a clear sky. The yellow smock that you wore was splashed with other colors and more so when you wiped your stained hands down it. “I would hug you, but I’m afraid I would just ruin your clothing. Gotta keep your image even if you’re retired. Or whatever you’re calling it now.”

“Appreciated. This is Eskel, I grew up with him back at Kaer Morhen.” Geralt introduced you to him, though it was hard to tell what was actually sticking. Eskel seemed to be stuck in place. At least heard your name, and he repeated it back to you, nodding his head.

“I’ve heard of you, Eskel. From this one here.” You gestured at Geralt. “Though I admit I’m curious to find out if everything he’s said is true.”

“You’ll be pleased to know that it’s all true.” Geralt defended himself and glanced over to Eskel who seemed, well, it was impossible to read the expression on his face. It was true to Eskel’s character to be hesitant, shy even, around those he did not know, but this seemed different to Geralt. Because of their history, he knew there was something more to this reaction.

“I have trust that he would not lie, but Geralt tends to exaggerate details. To my disliking.” Eskel finally spoke and his lip even twitched in a way that was almost the beginning of a smile.

“My friend here needs his jacket dyed. The bloodiest shade of red you have, preferably.”

Eskel scoffed and removed said jacket. There was still a strange air about him to Geralt’s eye, but he could dig into that later.

“It would be a pleasure. Any friend of Geralt’s is a friend of mine. In any way, I do need to get back to work, but I promise your jacket will be done in a few days. And Geralt, you and your friend are always invited into my home, please take me up on that. And sooner than later, too. Goodbye!” You turned, jacket in hand, and headed back to work.

The witchers eventually wandered back to Corvo Bianco where they sat at the table and poured themselves wine. Eskel still seemed off to Geralt, and after a short amount of small talk, he asked his question. 

“Is everything ok? The idea of retirement shaking you that much?” Geralt knew something was off, but now it was time to decipher what it was from Eskel’s clues. 

“It’s appealing, to be sure, but I don’t think it’s shaking me that much?” Though it wasn’t a question, it sounded as if he was asking. He sipped from his glass and put his hand flat on the table, as if to stabilize himself. 

“Then what is?” After taking a drink of wine Geralt whispered your name, “It’s her isn’t it?”

Eskel did not speak. But the way his splayed hand twitched, it seemed as though Geralt was right on the mark.

“She’s a good one, brother. Get to know her, stay in Toussaint a while longer. Who knows what will happen.”

“Be realistic. That is not my destiny.” What Eskel meant to say was, I don’t deserve that kind of life. I am doomed to live out a witcher’s end alone. 

“Be a man and say what you’re actually thinking, Eskel.” Geralt pulled no punches, but when his brother did not speak, he continued. “You think too low of yourself. If that is something that you want, only you can make that happen. You don’t have to follow orders or the witcher code anymore, forge your own path.”

Eskel’s brows were furrowed as he gazed into his glass. What Geralt spoke was true and they both knew it. 

“If I were to stay here I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

Geralt said your name again. “Go for it. Whatever you’re worried about, that won't matter to her. Don’t tell her I said this, but you and her are just about two of the loneliest people I’ve ever met. Forge your own path. You’ll retrieve your jacket alone and I’m counting on you to take that first step.”

When he went to bed, Eskel laid awake staring at the ceiling. As the shadows danced on the walls, he pictured you. He pictured Toussaint and its heart, Beauclair. He pictured the life he could make here. Certainly not as well off as Geralt, but enough to settle down and calm his being. He fell into a deep meditation with a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

The next two days came and went in the blink of an eye. Geralt showed Eskel everything that he could in that short amount of time, but it was enough. The third day of his visit, Eskel found himself at the port and eyed you from afar. 

You were busy laughing with other women, hands dipping in and out of the dyes staining both them and the cloth you held at once. Whatever confidence he had mustered had vanished the moment he saw you. But you had his beloved jacket and he would have to get it one way or another. So down the steps he went and when a woman asked his business, he asked for you by name.

“Eskel.” You smiled as you made your way toward him with a colorful wave. “You came just in time, your jacket has finished drying. This way, please.”

He followed without question into a nearby building where he saw his jacket hanging looking brighter than he’d gotten it. The color a deep concentrated red that popped against the dark black of the leather. 

“I hope it’s to your liking, it's the ‘bloodiest shade’ I could make.” You quoted with your fingers, mocking the absent Geralt’s request from a few days past. 

“It’s perfect.” Eskel’s eyes flitted from his jacket to you a few times before settling on your eyes. He found himself lost in them for a moment as he tried to memorize their color. When he reached for payment, you pushed his hand away.

“Like I said the other day, any friend of Geralt’s is a friend of mine. I never let him pay either. He’s done me more kindnesses than any other, I trust he chooses his friends wisely. So no payments, please and thank you.”

Your smile shined even in the dark of the room and it made his slow heart skip a beat. 

“I do have a lot of work to do today, I apologize, but I should be going now.”

He had to act now before he no longer had an excuse to speak with you. 

“Just a moment.” He called out as you turned the door handle. “Please.”

You asked him why with your eyes. As concisely as he could, he invited you to dinner at Corvo Bianco with him and Geralt the next day. You happily agreed. It seemed as though Geralt’s observation was right. His offer seemed to brighten your entire world as if you were the loneliest person in it. 

As he walked back to his horse, newly dyed jacket on, Eskel was afraid he did not make his intentions clear enough. He should have asked you to dinner, one on one. Though he had no idea how he would have done that.

It was past dark by the time he reached the gates to Corvo Bianco and he stabled his horse before making his way into Geralt’s home, who was there to greet him. 

“How did it go?” He asked with an air of mischief. 

“She’s coming to dinner tomorrow.”

“Why so glum, then?” Geralt noticed it in the way Eskel spoke and carried himself through the door.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this. What if I’m getting my hopes up too much? I can’t help but feel like I’m falling for her already.”

“Then let it happen. Worst case is that she says no, but trust she will not be cruel about it, I know her better than that.” Geralt took in the expression on his brother’s face and backtracked. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that though. I saw the way she eyed you.”

“How?”

“I’ve spent quite a lot of time with her, I understand her without words being spoken. And just like you’re my brother, I consider her my sister.”

Eskel had nothing left to say. What he needed to do now was stew on the events of the past few days. Interaction and conversation with you and words spoken with Geralt. So he once again laid in his borrowed bed and thought. Would it be so bad? To talk to her and take the risk? I’m not even sure what my feelings would be toward her once I got to know her. All I know is that I want to. I need to. And what would retirement look like for me? Could I do it?

There was no rest for the witcher that night and the following morning he was so full of nerves that Geralt had to reassure him once more. He felt a wreck. Toussaint was supposed to be a break like all those winters at Kaer Morhen. So far it had turned out to have quite the opposite effect. He could run, like he tended to, starting all the way back with his child surprise. Or he could take his life into his own hands and deal with everything happening to him. For the first time, he chose the latter.

Yennefer came home late in the morning and greeted him politely. She’d never interacted much with Eskel and her indifferent demeanor made it hard for him to believe that she even wanted to. But she did try. During lunch she had divulged that Geralt had told her much of the happenings over the past few days, to Eskel’s embarrassment. And in an effort that he found out of character, Yennefer gave the same sentiments as Geralt had. She told him that she knew you as well as her husband did and that you would make a fine match with him. 

Other than wanting to shrivel up during the entire meal, lunch went as well as he could have expected. Dinner might be a different story entirely. B.B., as Geralt so endearingly called Barnabas-Basil, would be preparing dinner. If Eskel was going to impress you, he would stay away from the kitchen. On the path he could make food as good as any witcher, but over a campfire is just about where his skills ended. But B.B. would make a fine meal.

Eskel had to admit he was more than nervous. Somehow he felt it would be so much easier if it would be a one on one dinner, but Geralt, and now Yennefer, would both be included. As long as he was himself it would go well enough. He was betting on that. 

Eskel chose to wander the grounds to kill time before your arrival. The gardens were especially nice in the weather which was sunny with a few clouds that offered the occasional relief from the scorching sun. 

As the sun followed its natural path downward toward the west, Eskel saw you seated upon a horse, borrowed, he assumed, city dwellers had no need for personal horses. The sun hit your face in a most wonderful way and though you seemed awkward from your place on the horse, you had an air of confidence that captured him immediately. 

“Eskel!” You called and beamed once you spotted him. After letting a stable hand take the horse, you made your way to Eskel, who nodded at your call.

When you got to him it seemed neither of you knew what to do or say. So you stood there like fools before Geralt opened the door to his home and let out a yell to beckon you both. After a look that said that’s our Geralt was exchanged, you made it up the stairs and into the main room where a feast of a dinner was sat on the table.

The five of you took your places at the table. B.B., who was always invited to the table, was seated at its head, Geralt across from Yennefer, and Eskel across from you. Geralt was the first to dig in. In front of you laid a sizeable salmon, crusted and seared, enough salad with berries and nuts for everyone to share, an intricate loaf of bread from Beauclair and a seasoned oil to dip it in, as well as a plate of roasted vegetables and glasses of wine for each attendant. To you and Eskel both it was more food than you’d seen at once likely in your entire lives. Eskel was used to whatever scraps he could find on the path, and before that, whatever Vesemir had prepared for the young boys at Kaer Morhen. As for you, you were used to eating whatever your fellow dyers had prepared, usually modest amounts of protein and bread for each meal. This was a new experience welcomed by you both. 

Geralt led conversation in the first half of the meal, occasionally joined by Yennefer adding on to the stories she’d likely heard more times than she could count on both hands. You sat quietly for a while, drinking in the comfort of a meal shared with friends, old and new. Every so often you would sneak a glimpse of the man in front of you, noting every last detail of his being. The way that his hair framed his face and the scars that lay on the left side of it. You committed his demeanor to memory. His shoulders hunched slightly, enough that you figured he was trying to make himself as small as possible, a feat he could never accomplish. The manner in which he dealt with his food you noticed as well. He would pick at his plate with his fork before carefully choosing what went on his fork. You would have assumed he was disinterested in the meal and his company if it weren’t for the way he would glance around with inquisitive eyes. Eyes that hovered over you longer than anyone else.

To Eskel, the staring made him uneasy. There was no way to know what was going on in that pretty head of yours, but the way you eyed him made him think the worst. He naively hoped that the dim candle light would soften his features, but he knew that only really deepened the lines of his scars. But there was something about the way your gaze lingered that soothed him as well. The smirk that he would get from you when he caught you staring more than once gave him reassurance that you were not frightened by the sight of him. Regardless of what he thought was going on inside your mind, he was more sure than ever that he was falling for you. The shadows that enhanced your features drew him in and by the time dinner was done he was sure the reason Geralt said he was headed to bed early was because of the way you were staring at each other. 

As B.B. cleaned up, Geralt announced that he and Yennefer were going to retire to their bed for the evening. This left you and Eskel alone, still seated across from each other at the table. He rubbed at his cheek for a moment before he realized what he was doing while you picked at the hem of your shirt. 

“Do you want to go outside with me? The stars are especially beautiful on nights without clouds.” You asked him with wide eyes and a nervous smile.

Eskel stood before agreeing and boldly helped you from the table with an outstretched hand that you readily took. He only let go to open the door for you. From there you took the lead, guiding him to a bench at the side of the house. 

When you both were seated, you laughed under your breath to which Eskel gave you a questioning look. 

“We barely got to speak together at all with all of Geralt’s talking. But I’d like to now, if that’s alright with you?”

“I would like that as well.” Eskel’s voice was unsure, and he was certain you could tell. He was also certain that he was blowing any chance of getting to know you out the window if he kept up talking like this. Rehearsed and mechanical. 

“Am I bothering you?” It was an honest question.

“NO.” Eskel’s eyes widened. “I mean… I.” He was lost for words, but you had the situation under control.

“I talk with a lot of people in my profession. But I don’t often get the chance to get to know them. Much less dine with them. I know Geralt and Yennefer, they’ve done more for me than I could ever pay them back for so I don’t discount them, but I don’t have anybody else. I’m sure this resonates with you?”

“It does, actually. I grew up with Geralt and Lambert under Vesemir’s guidance. I consider them family, but most of the time I’m not with them. I came here to visit with Geralt. To relax. But so far I’ve gotten quite the opposite.” He realized he’d said too much.

“What do you mean by that? Do you not like it here?”

“I like it plenty. Too much, in fact, that’s the problem. Geralt keeps telling me how great retirement is, and I can see that. The only thing is that the life of a witcher is all I’ve ever known. I’ve never consorted with witches or warlocks, nor dirtied my hands with politics. I know what I do and that’s what I do best. As appealing as it sounds, I could never quit the path nor would I want to.”

“You don’t have to, not completely. Geralt told me of all the winters he spent at Kaer Morhen. You can still take contracts, gods know there are plenty in Toussaint. But you could take time off. Build a cottage, or steal one. There’s many left abandoned in the countryside.” You laughed. “I’m not trying to convince you of anything, but I do see how happy Geralt is now versus how he was when I met him. There’s more, though, to your plight. Am I right?”

Eskel eyed you hesitantly. It was like he was weighing very heavy options in his mind.

“There is. Though I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

“Try me.”

“I’m a simple witcher, as I’ve described. Geralt found Yennefer many years ago and that was not simple. I’ve never had my eye on anyone, and the opposite goes as well.” He sighed as if he was already regretting what he was about to say. “But then I saw you at the docks covered in dye.”

There was a twinkle in your eye as Eskel continued.

“You’ve captured me and I want to know you.”

You reached over to Eskels hand which was laying on his thigh, yours was shaky against his, but still you grasped it. He did not back away or flinch at your touch, but took his other hand to rest upon yours.

“I’d like to know you too, Eskel.”

He smiled for the first time in front of you. Before, he was too filled with nerves and he knew that when he smiled his scars pulled on his lip in an unsightly way. But you seemed to not mind that. 

“I like it when you smile.” You said sweetly, you surely did not mind.

[the-littlest-lily]

I wrote another M4F audio RP script for my friend Shardro 😊 Starts out slightly antagonistic and transitions to very sweet and comforting. He did SUCH a wonderful job with it, the man has a golden voice. Give it a listen! 💖💖

[lilydoesanon]

JayDickWeek #1: jubilee (6016 words) by lilydoesanon

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Gotham Knights (Video Game 2022) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd Additional Tags: Omega Verse, Omega Dick Grayson, Alpha Jason Todd, Pseudo-Incest, Pre-Relationship, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Courting Rituals, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Slow Dancing, First Kiss, but it’s not real, Protective Jason Todd, Not Beta Read, Never Beta Read, Don’t Like Don’t Read Series: Part 3 of JayDickWeek 2025 Summary:

for @jaydick-week 2025

To gather evidence against the Court of Owls, Dick decides to attend their yearly Jubilee Ball, where high-society Alphas and Omegas court each other in the name of wealth and fame. Jason volunteers to go with him as his back up. If that involves pretending to be courting each other for a night, well, it’s just for show… right?

Royalty AU || Fake Dating || Mutual Pining

[lilysaus]

chapter 7 of when the flowers bloom is finally out!! sorry for the long wait. as it turns out, life does NOT slow down when you graduate, but in fact gets busier

anyways, go read it!!

(also go follow @welcomehome-flowerpocalypse bc i might start posting some fun au facts there!!)

[rottinglittlelilies]

loved ur fic so excited for chap4 but i think you spelled "til" wrong in the title. cause until has one l. unless that was intentional?

thank you for reading my fic! "Til" vs "till" is actually a really debated on topic, but I belive the general consensus is that til is an abbreviated form of "until", hence the title Til the sun loses its golden light! Thanks for informing me tho lol :D

[fields-of-lilies-are-pretty]

something something pinned post

this blog and all blogs listed are inactive!

yall can call me lily

she/her

i have quite a few characters

theres @sign-anon, @origami-is-life, @simons-sweater-town, @milo-the-angel-baby, @the-horse-of-reason, @baps-and-bops, and @tiny-kats-of-taocc

i think thats it

oh! go check out @taocc-updates! thats the blog us taocc mods use to try and keep track of characters and lore more easily.

uhhhh taglist:

#lilyposts- any post i make

#lilyreblogs- reblogs, obviously

#lilyasks- i think most of these tags are self-explanatory

#lilymusic- for the rare times i actually make and/or post music

#lilywrites- my writing!

#lilyart- for art posts, duh

#lilycharacters- for any posts that have my characters in it

#lilyramblings- for when i lose track of myself and ramble about random shit

aaaaaaand i think thats it! stick around! or dont. whichever one you choose!

[origami-is-life]

[GASP I LOVE ART

HERE HAVE AN ASK TO DO THE ART ON]

*octavia rubs the glass with her thumb, smiling. suddenly, shes hit with the memory of taking it.*

"Hey! 'Via, you gotta stop moving so much! The picture is going to be blurry if you don't!"

"Okay, okay, just one... more... thing!"

"Hey, stop! You're going to mess up my hair! Simon, tell her to stop!"

"Octavia, leave Steven alone. The sooner you stop goofing around, the sooner we can take the picture, and the sooner you can go back to your origami practice."

"Will you help me with it? I'm having trouble with the cranes. They always come out lopsided..."

"Heh, well, if you let us take this picture in peace, then yes, I will help."

"YES! Okay, okay, 'trina, you can take the picture now!"

"Alright! Here we go... and... ah! Everyone say 'cheese'!"

"Cheese!"

*octavia stares at the picture, smiling even more at the restored memory.*