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agirlandherquill · 29 days

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Sweet Pea and Lily for the flower ask game?

let me just consult my massive array of stationery for the perfect piece of paper to respond to this - paper check, quill check, pot of ink? somehow intact, some may say more intact than my sanity, but anywho without further ado, it's time to write this so-called letter to Tumblr!

so, I'm new to ask games, incredibly new, sort of like the first petals that form on daffodils at the start of spring - in fact I'm seeing some right now as I write this (and it's fitting with not only the flower ask game, but spring itself), and since it's the start of a new month, spring has officially sprung and it's the easter holidays, why not use this perfect time to respond to this question,

alrighty for the first question we have sweet pea - what colour are your oc's eyes?

now this is a welcome invitation for a little ramble about some of my characters, because I picked every detail of their appearance for a reason - after all, who doesn't love little details that are jam-packed full of meaning?

to reiterate the cliche everyone knows and probably loathes (I personally have a love-hate relationship with it, and most cliches in existence), the eyes are the windows to the soul, and I chose the eye-colours of my characters to sort of reflect that,

so for my two ongoing novels, Ruin's Reprisal and A Deal of Daggers, the eye-colours are just as important as any other detail,

In Ruin's Reprisal we have Edeva, the main female protagonist (in the first instance of the series, she's the only one, but not for very long in the following novels), her eyes are what I described as 'cornflower-blue', a shade I found to reflect the sky moments before the sun slips away beyond the horizon, and I feel like that link to sunsets reflects Edeva's character perfectly - she's hopeful even in the darkest of moments, deep within her is a darkness created by events outside of her control, and truth be told her eyes are a shade of my favourite colour.

Fenley is Edeva's protagonistic counterpart (the red squiggly line under that informs me it isn't a word but to my mind it should be, therefore for this letter, it is) and he's her counterpart in a few other ways too - while she is hopeful he lives and breathes chaos, he resides in the dark, which is why I opted to give him grey eyes because it's a mixture of his inner darkness and her light, she brings out the better parts of him, even though he tries so desperately to hide them.

Moving onto A Deal of Daggers, we have Isolde and Reid. This paragraph is much simpler than the others because I had a much clearer reason for their eye colours: Isolde has chocolate brown eyes, simply because out of all my characters, I see her as the greatest extension of myself. Reid has green eyes because I think of him as a survivor, much like a plant, he adapts to his surroundings and he survives, no matter the risk or the cost.

And now for the latter question, Lily - what is your oc's love language?

My response for this is what some may say to be tragically simple, for almost all of my characters aforementioned, they hardly know what love is, but that isn't to say they haven't got it in them to discover it, but for the sake of providing some sort of response to this question I will refer to Reid - perhaps the only character in either of the novels who has any idea what he's doing when it comes to love, even if that love is forbidden, unrequited and fought against - mostly by himself. Reid uses words and subtle gestures as his love-language, he prefers subtlety above all else, he finds it to be the most effective, I tend to think of his approaches to love as though he is painting, one stroke, a small, meaningful stroke can make a piece, and bit by bit the painting grows, it becomes better, more beautiful. Slow but steady, so to say. Or perhaps... Slow-burn? (one of my favourite literary tropes)

and now I reach the end of my letter, a point at which I ought to sign off but I'd first like to thank you for the opportunity to ramble about my characters, and to thank everyone who reads not only this letter but every snippet, every piece of my writing, it means more than you know,

so with that, I'll be signing this off,

until the next letter,

~ A Girl and Her Quill

(p.s, I hope it's abundantly clear I have not read this through, my mind went on a ramble and I wholeheartedly went with it :) )

#writeblr #writing #creative writing

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coucou-art · 5 months

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What would Carina like for Christmas? And what is she likely to actually get? During both academy and war phase

Cute question...! A bit difficult, I think she's more the type to make presents for others than to wish any for herself. - Edit: She does enjoy some nice things, though wouldn't explicitly ask for it.

(Partly used as reference her preferred gifts which are Ancient Coin, History of Fodlan, Board game, Exotic Spices, Lavender/Daffodil ((i wish there were tulips as gifts too)) )

During the academy phase she would be happy to receive a history book or fairytale book.

During the war phase she'd enjoy antiquities like old coins, travel logs, accessories, small daggers, artworks... anything that has an ancient story to tell. (she can sometimes access the souls of the deceased that are bound to them and have a chat)

but in general: okay, it's quite simple. she'd be very excited about beautiful clothes and good perfume. she may be of low status and have little money but this lady wants to enjoy the fine things, too. maybe some of her noble connections make that possible. (not coucou turning her oc into a sugarbaby skflhöjöab)

What would she actually get tho? there are only few people who really know her well, or know about her occult background.

If gifted by a person who doesn't know her too well, maybe a new quill pen? Or a notebook? Because she's often seen with those things in hand, mostly during academy phase. A nice essential oil should be a good pick too because she's often seen spending time at the sauna after a long work day.

#coucou answers #oc carina #oc #fe3h oc #fe3h

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rabbit-reveries · 1 year

Text

— 𝑷eace

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Daffodil Chain

Pairing: Aemond x Targaryen!Reader

Tags: Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Multichapter Fic.

Warnings: Some tension, some angsty topics

Word Count: 2.2k

* Black Dahlias mean betrayal

You close your fist around the letter, wrinkling the paper. "Meet me in the garden maze" for what? So he can sully your youth with the new habits he seems to have picked? Does he plan on humiliating you further? He can do it very well in public without forcing you to sneak away at such late hours, as he has proven. What will he gain from meeting you in the night? What more can he take? Has he truly changed so much?

Or is this proof he hasn't? If he wants to meet you, it means he has something to say to you, something he doesn't want others to hear. It might even be something important. But it can't be good, or he wouldn't have behaved the way he did during supper... Ugh, you can't make sense of this mess. Part of you, immature and naive, begs you to believe in his good heart and meet him. Whatever he has to say, he is still your Aemond somewhere. Part of you is still his, you can’t fight it. You sigh, knowing the battle inside you is already lost. You let go of the crumpled-up paper and toss it over your shoulder.

Defeated and disappointed in yourself, you undo the rest of your dress. You occupy yourself with your nightly routine: put on your nightgown, undo the braids in your hair, and brush away the knots... And rehearse what you mean to say until the color of the sky tells you the hour approaches. With a cloak over your chemise and a dagger attached to your thigh, you sneak away using the secret passage Aemond himself showed you when you were children. You remember how obsessed with maps he was… Funny it comes to use in this way.

The night wind is rougher than you expected, and you hold yourself in your mantle to try and keep yourself warm. The more you stand in the garden, the more you regret your decision to bet on the letter and meet him. What if it was all a jest and Aemond never sent you anything? The 'A' could very well be Aegon playing on your childish affection for his brother and sending you to spend the night in the cold. It is so dark and growing darker by the minute. The hoot of an owl startles you, and you cover your mouth with a hand to stop yourself from screeching.

"Calm down, Y/N, it was just... Just an owl." you tell yourself, one hand over heart to keep track of the beating. Gods, you are very easily frightened.

You are also an absolute idiot. Aemond isn't coming. If he were, he would already be standing in front of you. He had always been punctual to a fault.

A branch snaps, and you immediately reach for the knife attached to your leg. You palm it over the fabric of your nightgown, wildly searching for where the noise came from. In the dark: light, and one pale violet eye. So Aemond came. Now you are startled by the thought you wish that he hadn't. You realize you were angry at being left waiting but relieved not to have to face your former friend. For your mother's daughter, you certainly are very cowardly.

"My Prince, you came." you catch yourself saying, emotions you don't recognize in your voice.

"I debated it for a long time," said Aemond, a lantern in his hand. "but I could not keep you waiting til morning."

"I half thought you would. I was just about to leave."

You stare at Aemond, and he stares right back at you. You are not sure what to do with his gaze. Once, there was so much affection mixed in the purple of his iris, and now it is more like he is amused by knowing something you desperately need to know, and having decided not to tell you anything. The silence stretches between the two of you, uncomfortably so.

"Why did you say those things during supper?" you hear yourself question, surprised by the vulnerability in your voice. You didn't mean to let Aemond see how hurt you are, but maybe it is the late hour because you are too tired to fake strength. "You knew the fight you would start; you knew the discomfort you would stir. You knew it is a sore spot, so why did you decide to touch on it?"

He ponders the words for a moment, or so you think. When he speaks, you realize he still means to insult you. "I'm so sorry, niece. Do you suppose I should have played happy family some more before retiring to my chambers?"

"'Play happy family', or so you say, to me would be being civil to your sister and her children. To the friends of your youth."

"Hm, yes, I do enjoy it when friends tear open my face and blind me in one eye. Perhaps you would like to try taking the one that was left to me?" Disdain drips from his voice like sour milk. You grimace at the taste.

“Pardon me, my lord, but you were about to crack our brother’s skull open like an egg, what would you have Luke do? Stand there and watch?”

“Like you stood and watched when your brother pulled out a dagger?”

The truth stings, just like he hoped it would. In the dark, you can see he’s waiting for an answer. Why did you agree to this? You’re bound to catch a cold, all so you can bicker with a man you once knew, but know nothing of new. You sigh.

“I was paralyzed! I’m not proud of it…” you confess, eyes on the ground. “I wish I had helped you.”

“And yet, you didn’t. Neither did you apologize. What you did do was stay quiet while your mother had me questioned, the taste of blood still on my tongue, and then leave to Dragonstone without ever saying goodbye.”

There is bitterness in his tone and thinly veiled heartache. You never gave much thought to how betrayed he must have felt then. You always thought of yourself as the victim. The truth in the way he speaks forces you to look in the mirror, and you don’t like what you see. He insulted you, but you left him when he need you most.

“It was all so surreal, I was struggling to process everything.” you hear yourself say, but the excuse doesn’t seem enough, even if you believe it to be sincere. Aemond clicks his tongue and looks away from you. “I’m being truthful! I am!”

“I don’t think I have ever heard a worst excuse.”

He turns to leave, and you rush to pull him back by the fabric of his shirt. A man has little reason to wear a cloak, they can leave their rooms in the middle of the night. A woman has to be disguised and prepared to deal with rumors, and, if found alone with a man in a situation such as the present one, accept she is forever ruined.

“I wish had I stayed, Aemond. I wish I had stayed, I really do. I wish we had stayed the closest of friends, I wish I would have married you when I came of age, just like we planned to. I missed you so much. I know you missed me too!” you plead. He turns to you, a look on his face you can’t quite read. You let go of his shirt. “Do you remember that? That we used to play house and say we’d wed each other in the future?” There is a pause, and neither of you says anything “Look, I can’t change the past with wishing. All I can do is stay here now. What if I stayed this time?”

You realize you are standing quite close to each other when he takes a step towards you and suddenly he has fingers lifting your chin. He forces you to stare up at him, something strange brewing in his mind. His other hand holds the lantern low, so the light barely hits the faces of the two of you.

“Don’t you dare say you missed me, that you would have done this and that, that you would have married me, when you didn’t think to send a raven or reply to Helaena’s for six fucking years. You had your chance to stay.” he spits at you, tightly holding your chin “You would not have the guts to stay this time, not even if you wanted.”

He’s angry, and you don’t blame him, but can’t help to be a little scared. You hold his arm as he holds your face, your eerie imagination coming up with scenarios where his fingers travel to your neck and squeeze the life out of you.

“I can’t change the past, but I can prove you wrong about the present. Just test me.”

“Test you?”

He drops his hand and you don’t miss the warmth of his touch, only now able to breathe. You realize it’s now or never - you can either apologize and have a less than pleasant relationship with your uncle for whatever time it takes for it to fully sour or can you prove to him you have what it takes. Do you wish to be by his side? You know so little of the man your friend has become. You’ve never been one to be taken by the unknown. You’ve always played safe.

But where has it gotten you? By not picking sides, you made your choice all the same, and now there are consequences. With confidence you don’t truly feel, you repeat:

“Test me.”

Aemond is taken aback. He never expected you to stand your ground. He takes a step away, mulling over what to do. You can’t possibly be serious. You’re just a girl, probably scared of her own monthly bleeding.

“Alright.” he pauses and puts down the lantern “If you want it so badly.”

You wonder what he means to do as he stands in front of you, doing nothing. He breathes deeply and for a moment you are afraid he is going to tackle you, but that’s mostly because your mind likes to jump straight to absurdities. The prince then takes off his eyepatch in an act that almost seems ceremonial, and brings the lantern close to his face.

You don’t want to, but you gasp. There is an ugly scar across his face, from forehead to chin, and where there is supposed to be a second violet eye, there is a blue sapphire sphere, sparkling under the flickering light. It is hauntingly. You want to look away and focus on anything else, but your eyes keep coming back to stare at the damage your brother’s hand had done. So this is the length of the hurt between him and your family.

“You look as if the mere sight of my face assaults you.” he lets out a bitter laugh “But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Most ladies at court have never seen me without an eyepatch and still have me as a disfigured creature.”

He puts down the light again. You realize he means to put back the cover.

Panic rushes through you. You have offended him, again. “It does not! It’s rather pleasing, actually! Your face, that is, eyepatch or no eyepatch. I’ve always thought you to be quite beautiful.” you blurt out. You want to be sincere but your gaze never leaves the gruesome scar “What terrifies me is that this feud got to the point where you were so deeply hurt and no one did anything.”

“Liar.” his words nip at you, but in his face, you see he isn’t as angry, perhaps more like an open wound. “You did nothing as well, might I remind you.”

“I’m not lying! I should have done something. I’ll carry this regret to my grave.”

He glares at you, tongue on the cheek like he’s sharpening a knife. He is not done.

“You know, I expected my father to pick your mother’s side. But you? You were my friend. I trusted you. I went against my mother’s wishes to be by your side, I took the punches so my brother would not pester you… And you left when I needed you most. I was alone after you left, did you ever think about that? Alone with all your wilting flowers and broken promises.”

Is he about to tear up? You can’t tell in the low light. Maybe it’s just the reflection of your own cry. You reach to touch his hand but he pulls away from you.

“We were children, Aemond. I wronged you, I know, but we can make this right! It doesn’t have to be like this!”

“It is like this.”

“But it doesn’t have to be. Please.” you plead.

He studies you with eyes full of black dahlias.

“You want to prove you’ve got the heart to stay. Alright, I’ll test you.”

You wait the pregnant halt.

“Kiss me.” he says. “Kiss the scar, the eye that lacks, and I might be willing to give you another chance.”

Tags: @caspianobsessed @gentle-monster

#hotd #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd x you #hotd fic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon angst #aemond #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond fic #aemond imagine #aemond angst #bunnie writes

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undernightskies · 2 years

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Survival felt sweet the way grass blades shone like daggers after the rain. The stars were holes I punched in the ceiling the night I missed you and the air felt like winter had nestled in the crook of my arms. The song that broke free from my lungs sprouted daffodils near my front door and I was suddenly spring, but only for a day. I felt the hot wait of dead snake, the drying of bones on tar roads, and all I wanted was gentleness like that special sound of wind on water, or of you sleeping. I thought if could fall like leaves into your lap and crumple, I’d soften into something that turns mulgas into maples, battle cries into birdsong.

#poetry #spilled ink

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fruit-trio-kins · 28 days

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drops like a dead bird into your guys’ inbox . .

can we request a names & pronouns (nature themed) for Magicsings ( preferably Outsiders smp but any source works too )

– 🦜 nonnie

Names/Pronouns for Magicsings (Outsiders SMP) with a nature theme!

Names:

Fern

Sunny

Sage

Skyler

Ivy

Masie

Daffodil

Cedar

Aspen

Dandelion

Juniper

Primrose

Pronouns:

Flower/Flowers/Flowerself

Music/Musics/Musicself

Petal/Petals/Petalself

Dagger/Daggers/Daggerself

Acacia/Acacias/Acaciaself

Berry/Berrys/Berryself

🌻/🌻s/🌻self

🐚/🐚s/🐚self

🫧/🫧s/🫧self

Happy to get an Outsiders SMP request! Hope these suit the vibe you were going for. Want anything changed? Send in another ask!

-🍊

#mod 🍊#🦜 anon #outsidersblr #outsiders smp kin #outsiderssmp #kin blog #kin help #kin request #kinning #neopronouns #outsiders smp #fictionkin

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clovermarigold · 4 months

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Daggers & Daffodils Chap.27

Dagur x Reader

Heads

You stood looking up at Dagur, who was eerily serious. Now painfully aware of how alone you were with Heather now gone. Taking his hand off your mouth he grabbed both of your shoulders, turning you around to face the door, "Open it".

Slowly you opened the door, to be met with an assault of bouquets, laid about the room. "I didn't know if your favorites changed so I got the old ones, but I figured I would splurge a little". "Umm-", "Do you like it?" he pressed, walking the two of you inside.

"I know you and I got into a little.... couples quarrel. And your brother stole you away before we could make up, buuuut, we're here now" he said, uncomfortably chipper. "You understand I ran away, right? It's important to me that you can comprehend that" Dagur's expression lost some of its intensity, a mask over what you would assume was irritation and annoyance. "I do" his arm wrapped around you pushing the both of you in, closing the door, "It's only natural that you wouldn't wat to see me after our first argument".

"First?" Dagur continued to push you forward ignoring your relentless sarcasm. "You should have seen the look on Heather's face when I told her we were engaged" he laughed, "She was all like; You tried to kill her! Didn't she throw you in prison?!".

"It works out perfectly don't you think? You always wanted a sister, and I've always wanted a brother". You drag a hand down your face, frustrated, "Dagur, we've done this, had this conversation, countless times. I am not going to marry you". Dagur sat on the bed with a huff looking at you "And I've told you not to say that unless you mean it" Odin's beard, he was thick. How many times were you going to have to drill it into him that unless he were to make some serious changes, namely, stop trying to kill your brother, you were never going to marry him.

Wait, no. No, you were never going to, no ifs and or buts. You have no idea why your brain kept holding out hope for him. He certainly didn't deserve it. Not after everything he did to Berk, dragons, and your friends. "Couples are supposed to have rough patches. What matters is that we make it through them".

"We are not a couple" Dagur's nostrils flare, "And if you care half as much as you say you do, you'll let me g--". "Let you go? The last time I saw you with them you were stuck against a wall unable to breathe, with no one to help you because they were too distracted by Heather".

"They wouldn't have been distracted if you hadn't destroyed her village" you retorted. "A sibling matter that they had no right to intervene in" Dagur crossed his arms. "She was going to kill you!".

"And why didn't you let her, it would have solved your issue, and you would never have to worry about marrying you again" you couldn't believe that this was his argument. You stopped Heather from killing him because you didn't want her to have to live with killing her brother and only living relative on her conscious, "I did it for her! Not you!".

"Well, she doesn't seem so mad at me now does she?" it was said almost like a jab at you. Oh, you wanted to hit him in the face. "You are the most infuriating, deranged, delusional, man I have ever met". Dagur's smile returned full force at your insult.

Tails

Dagur was ecstatic when he saw you caught by the dragon hunters. First his sister returns to his side and tells him she wants to be a family and rebuild their tribe. Then he finds out that not only you, but your annoying friends fell directly into their trap. It was too good to be true. Dagur had been reeling over the last time you had had spoken. Sure, you had briefly talked on the ship when Heather was trying to kill him, but you were a bit preoccupied with your panic attack.

Gods he wanted to strangle Hiccup for that. He took his heart, world, and very purpose of existence into a battle that very well could have killed her. And chose to prioritize the life of his enemy over his own sister. It didn't matter if her life wasn't immediately or directly being threatened, the fat that he chose to barter with Heather instead of rushing to your side had him steaming.

He was honestly lucky that Heather had chosen to come to him after he had managed to calm down, or he might have done something he would regret. It wasn't her fault; it was in their Berserker nature to seek revenge and act deranged and unhinged. Besides, she didn't end up doing it, a true testament to their sibling bond.

Seeing you outside of that cell talking with his sister- no. Your sister was euphoric. He was finally going to get his ideal family. You had left off on a rather sour note, when Hiccup took you away before you could talk it out. So, he had every intention of doing damage control as quickly as possible.

He had made sure not to hold back any punches, flooding your shared room with your favorite flowers, he knew it wouldn't fix the problem or erase the issue, but it showed that he cared. After all, this was his goal. To be able to work out this little argument in a healthy and normal way. Couples fight all the time, he thought. So, it's good that they learn to work through it now.

He had seen his parents fight when he was younger, and before he met you, he had thought that it was stupid to fall in love if it was all fighting and touching faces, ah how young and naive he was. He had been a gentleman in your argument so far. He hadn't yelled at you when you called him crazy and swore you would never be with him. In fact, he had been considerate enough to give the both of you space and time to cool off. And it was working, Dagur had calmed down and was fully ready to find common ground with you when, Hiccup happened. But never mind that. The past is the past and he was fully ready to make up for it.

"You understand I ran away, right? It's important to me that you can comprehend that" Did it insult him that you thought him so oblivious and blinded by obsession to know to your emotions and feelings? A little.

"It's only natural that you wouldn't wat to see me after our first argument" he led you away from the door, he attempted to get you to sit, but it was clear that you were too worked up. Choosing to sit down and let you follow when you felt like it he let you lead the conversation. Dagur had gotten his chance to let out his frustrations with the situation, and he could imagine that you were stuck stewing over it all. Besides, knowing his temper, it was only a matter of time before he got to that point too.

"Dagur, we've done this, had this conversation, countless times. I am not going to marry you" Dagur held back a wince as he felt a vein somewhere in his body burst. Gods, he hated it when you said that. The very topic that started the argument. "And I've told you not to say that unless you mean it" he knew you didn't. The first time you had said it was with far more conviction, and each time you did was with less and less.

Dagur watched as your face twisted, irritated and spiteful. Before it began to subside, no doubt our mind either self-directing or reasoning, perhaps both. "Couples are supposed to have rough patches. What matters is that we make it through them".

"We are not a couple" Dagur felt his face twitch. You know what, he didn't have to yell at you to get his point across. He may be known for being deranged, but he's also smart. Why not put it to good use.

"And if you care half as much as you say you do, you'll let me g--". "Let you go? The last time I saw you with them you were stuck against a wall unable to breathe, with no one to help you because they were too distracted by Heather". He almost felt bad as he watched your eyes and widen in shock and embarrassment. Almost.

"They wouldn't have been distracted if you hadn't destroyed her village" there she was, his spitfire. He was hoping that this wouldn't be one-sided, "A sibling matter that they had no right to intervene in".

Your eyes narrowed; he loved it when you got like this. When your eyes were focused on him and only him. Was it healthy, absolutely not. But nothing about him was.

"She was going to kill you!" gods you were cute when you were mad, if he had known it would be so much fun to go back and forth with you, he would have escalated it sooner. Besides, what was a more Berserker way of ending a lovers quarrel than venting until you were exhausted. Odin knows you needed it. Stuck on Berk and wherever your little hideout was, unable to so much as raise your voice, too concerned with others. He'd fix that. You would be the perfect Berserker queen. Unafraid of speaking your mind and never forced to hold back any anger you had.

"And why didn't you let her, it would have solved your issue, and you would never have to worry about marrying you again" a bit below the belt considering how torn up you were visibly about constantly having your morals split between him and your 'friends'. "I did it for her! Not you!".

Noble as ever, putting others before yourself. Never allowing yourself to be happy. It was the reason you continued to relent against being with him. Conditioned by your family and friends to prioritize your people, friends, strangers, and even beastly dragons over yourself.

"Well, she doesn't seem so mad at me now does she?" that's when he saw it, your tipping point, you were livid, looking at him with years of pent-up self-loathing, grief, anger, everything. You looked ready to strike him, by the gods he would let you. He loved it when you got determined, especially when it was demanding in some way. Huh, he should probably look into that and make sure it's some sort of psychological defect instead of anything.....else.

"You are the most infuriating, deranged, delusional, man I have ever met". Dagur's smile returned full force at your insult. You snapped, you got an inch from his face and finally said everything you felt about him. "Took you long enough!" Dagur launched up from the bed wrapping you in a bear hug and spinning you around once. Both knocking the anger out of you and replacing it with bewilderment and confusion.

And leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened.

Taglist

~~~~~~~

@demogorgon-master1

@mj-jabami

@alicee-carter

#httyd #dagur the deranged #httyd dagur #dagur #dagur x reader #race to the edge #daggers and daffodils

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queerolddad · 4 months

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Little sketch I did based on a scene from the newest chapter of my Hunger Games X Lokius AU🔪🌼

#my art #Lokius #Lokius fanart #Lokius fanfic #Loki tv #Loki series #a dirge of daggers and daffodils #hunger games #hunger games au

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telumendils · 1 year

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Daffodils (Zevran x nb!Cousland)

Title: Daffodils Pairing: Zevran Arainai x nonbinary!Cousland Warden Themes: Reunion; some NSFW implied Summary: Someone left flowers on the Warden-Commander’s desk.

She thought the flowers charming when she first caught sight of them, standing in the doorway of her private quarters in Vigil’s Keep. Elspeth’s head cocked curiously to the side as she recognized the white petals with a burst of yellow at their heart: Daffodils. Her favorite.

Elspeth crossed quickly to her desk to investigate the bouquet, a slight smile playing at her lips as she tried to guess who may have left them. She couldn’t recall telling anyone at the Keep what her favorite flower was. When would she have had the occasion? And yet there was a whole vase of them sitting on her desk.

Fingertips brushed delicate petals as Elspeth leaned down to inhale their scent, only to freeze partway there. Somewhere behind her and to the left, there was a sound. The soft swish of cloth against cloth. A faint creak of leather. Suddenly alert, Elspeth slowly straightened, unsure if she’d actually heard anything.

But there it was again, closer this time, and she could swear the air itself shifted as another body moved into her space. Without another thought, Elspeth thrust her elbow back into the intruder’s ribcage as hard as she could, knocking them off balance with a satisfying oof. She drew her daggers as she turned to face them, blue-green eyes hardening to steel.

The figure, cloaked and hooded, seemed to right themself all too easily, meeting Elspeth’s blades with one of their own. She pressed them with an offhand swing, determined not to give an inch lest she be put on the defensive in her own home. She didn’t like that someone had managed to slip past the Keep’s guards and invade the sanctity of her private rooms, and she would not stand for it.

Even on the offensive, however, she couldn’t seem to gain much ground. The figure drew a second blade of their own and met her every strike as if predicting them. A sense of frustrated confusion built in her chest. Why did they not try to win back the advantage? They seemed only interested in defending themself, perhaps hoping to tire her out.

But then she caught a glimpse of the face beneath the hood—just the flash of a familiar grin from the shadows—and her flurry of attacks faltered. That was all the opening he needed to disarm her right hand and twist it behind her back, just enough to immobilize without hurting her. It was the knife at her throat that should have worried her, anyway.

“Tsk, tsk, my dear. What have I told you about hesitation?” Zevran’s voice ran through her like a warm summer rain, and her gritted teeth became a cheeky smile.

“It’s death,” she said, lifting her chin to avoid the point of his blade.

“Indeed, it is.” Zevran lowered his dagger and released her arm so she could turn to him. Still smiling, Elspeth reached up to lower his hood, steely eyes softening to silk. His arm moved to the small of her back, holding her body against his.

“To be fair,” she said, gently. “I only hesitated because I saw you.” And now it made sense why he could predict her every move—he’d taught her most of them himself.

“Ah! Well, then. Perhaps I have judged too harshly.” Zevran brushed her hair back from her eyes, drawing a flush to her cheeks. “You are as sharp and as beautiful as ever, my Warden.” She’d always liked the way he called her that. It almost eased the ache of being stuck with a profession she never asked for when she heard it spoken with such warmth and affection.

“And you are just as charming,” Elspeth said with a smile.

“You forgot ridiculously handsome.”

“As that is a given.” She raised both brows.

Zevran smirked. “A man does still like to hear it sometimes, however...”

“Of course.” Elspeth grinned. “You are even more handsome than I remember.” She looked at him fondly, and he looked back, each of them drinking in the sight of the other after many months apart. When she spoke again, it was with a familiar, quiet warmth: “I’ve missed you.”

Zevran inhaled softly, then his lips were upon hers, gentle at first but quickly growing more insistent. Elspeth melted under the kiss, leaning her body into his, deepening the gesture as her arms moved around his neck. His mouth moved along her jaw to her throat, where she felt the brief impression of teeth and gasped sharply. His hands were already working to loosen the buckles on her armor. He’d somehow managed to sheath his weapons without her noticing.

His eagerness brought a short, soft ring of laughter to the Warden’s lips. (She’d never know how desperately he’d missed the sound.) Elspeth’s remaining dagger slipped from her hand, dropping to the floor behind Zevran with a clang they both ignored as he pressed her back towards the bed. They made quick work of one another’s clothes, shedding layers of leather and cloth until the only thing left between them was skin, and their bodies fell into a delightfully familiar rhythm.

Once finished, Elspeth made herself at home lounging on Zevran’s chest while his fingertips traced the length of her spine. “You’ll have to tell me how you got in here,” she said after watching him bask for several minutes.

“The window, of course.” Zevran smiled, opening his eyes. “You could use more archers on that wall, amora. Your current patrols are...lacking.”

“Clearly,” she said, deadpan. “You could have come in by the front gate, you know.”

“But then how would I surprise you, and warn you of the gaps in your security?”

“You don’t have to do either of those things.”

“And yet, I want to. Would you deny me the right to take care of you in my way?”

Elspeth considered him for a moment, then shook her head. “Of course not.”

He tucked a wayward ginger curl behind her ear and kissed her nose. “Good.”

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heartsdefine · 3 months

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i love that zev is one of my muses bc i can be like. yeah he teaches mei and elspeth how to fight w/ daggers. also he gives els a daffodil tattoo on her wrist. and it's just a thing that is in my personal canon.

#ooc. ( a suspicious lack of dragons )#tbd.#re; zevran arainai. ( killing & lovemaking & witty retorts )#re; elspeth cousland. ( you are a brutal thing made of flowers )#re; mei surana. ( lambs become lions )

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ravendruid · 1 year

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❀ daffodil (unequaled love) — “no one will ever come close to you.”

Vaxleth again, but this time... he's training her in dagger handling... or is it her teaching him some new tricks?

Thank you so much for the prompt! Daffodil (unequaled loved)

No one will ever come close to you.

Keyleth had been staring absent-mindedly at the flames dance in front of her for a few minutes, eating some of the stew she had cooked earlier. She still couldn’t believe she had been such a fool as to fall into an ambush the way she did. She was supposed to know nature, she should have seen the change in the pattern of the trees, but instead, she found herself trapped in a cage and her staff taken from her possession. If it hadn’t been for Vax’ildan’s quick reflexes, Keyleth would have never been able to make it out on her own, not with just her simple cantrips.

“Hey, you.” As if summoned from the shadows, Vax sat next to her on the log. “Copper for your thoughts?”

Keyleth shrugged, avoiding eye contact. She was still too embarrassed with the fact that an experienced druid such as herself had lost her focus so effortlessly. The last thing she wanted was to see the look of mock on Vax's face.

“I can teach you how to wield a blade,” Vax offered. “I have a couple of regular daggers. Maybe you can keep one, so you can use it if the need arise.”

“I know how to wield a knife, Vax,” Keyleth replied dryly, looking at the empty bowl in her lap.

“Humor me, Keyleth. We’ve been on the road for days, and you did find yourself in distress today.”

Keyleth looked at him fiercely and was surprised to see a look of concern where she thought mock would be. “Alright.”

They discovered a good practice area, not too far from camp but far enough that a stray blade would not find its purchase in anyone’s limbs, and Vax promptly handed her one of his cheaper daggers. He started by showing her how to grip a dagger for each one of their different purposes, such as throwing, stabbing, or slashing. He quickly learned that Keyleth wasn’t utterly useless with a blade, that she knew how to handle a dagger and was quite good at it.

“I told you I knew how to wield a knife.” She explained as they took a break to sip water from their waterskins. “I use knives – sometimes daggers – to harvest from the monsters we kill or harvest plants. I just have never used them for self-defense or to attack.”

Vax raised his hands in surrender. “I apologize. It was not my intention to undermine you or your skills.”

“I know. You’re just trying to help.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Care to show me that trick you do before you throw a dagger?”

Vax smirked in her direction, and with the smuggest look possible, he twirled a dagger in his hand and threw it at the trunk of a tree. “This one?”

Vax and Keyleth spent the next hour practicing the twirl-and-throw motion against the trunk of the poor tree that they had picked to act as a dummy. Keyleth was a quick learner, and soon she was able to twirl the dagger in her hand without cutting her palm.

“You do this, and no one will ever come close to you,” Vax said, showing her again. His dagger found purchase in a particular knot of the tree, and the smug look on his face only made Keyleth want to teach him a lesson even more.

“So you’re saying that all I have to do is twirl a dagger and throw it like you, and no one will ever dare to touch me?” She asked with a smirk. Vax nodded, and she nodded back in acknowledgment.

Keyleth threw her dagger up in the air, and with a flick of her wrist, a vine-like whip covered in thorns wrapped itself around the hilt of the dagger. She flicked her wrist again and lashed out the whip, releasing the blade that whooshed in the direction of the trunk. Next to her, Vax gasped loudly as the dagger hit the tree so hard that it pierced through the bark to the hilt.

Keyleth turned her head to him, and she was pleased to see his mouth open and eyes wide in shock. “You might want to pick up your jaw from the ground,” she nodded at his feet with a giggle. Vax realized his mouth was still agape, so he made an effort to close it as Keyleth crossed to the tree to remove the dagger. He saw her place her hands on the bark and close her eyes, and a light green glow emanated from her hands. When she broke from the tree, Vax was even more shocked to see that the gaping hole from the dagger was no longer there, but instead, it was as if she had sewn the bark back together.

“I take it back,” Vax apologized with a subtle smile. “I’m the one who has some learning to do. Gods! You’re amazing, Kiki.”

#critical role #cr fic #vox machina #vaxleth #keyleth #vax'ildan #prompted #dagger dagger dagger

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