Gwynblaidd (Gywnblaidd)



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    Tighnari rubs his temples. “Kaveh, let me get this straight—”

    “No.”

    “—you found an entire research paper on yourself, meticulously detailed to the point of insanity—”

    “It was deranged,” Kaveh mutters, because he can’t stop thinking about it.

    “—and instead of taking it as an obvious sign of obsessive, ridiculous, incomprehensible love, you screamed at him and then ran away.”

    Kaveh slams his drink down. “OH, I’M SORRY, WAS I SUPPOSED TO KISS HIM?”

    Or, the fine line between academic debate and love confessions, and how Kaveh and Alhaitham are failing to recognize it.

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    18,606
    Chapters:
    2/2
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    610
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    14 May 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 31

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    Wriothesley swallows. “I was joking.”

    “Ah.” Neuvillette’s fingers brush against his own, a gloved touch against bare knuckles, fleeting but deliberate. “I was not.”

    The words sink, slow as rain into thirsty soil.

    And Wriothesley—who has spent his life weathering storms, bracing against currents, laughing in the face of danger—finds himself at the mercy of something deeper, something vast and unfathomable, like the ocean itself bowing to embrace him.

    In which a playful jest turns into something more.

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    Language:
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    3,140
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    1/1
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    38
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    306
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    14 May 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 21

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    Wriothesley had never known love before.

    But if this was what it felt like—Neuvillette’s breath against his lips, his hands gripping him like he was something to be held, to be kept—then Wriothesley thought he could spend a lifetime learning.

    Or, love was for others, never for the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide. Until Neuvillette.

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    3,037
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    1/1
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    14 May 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 39

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    “You know,” he rasps, voice still wrecked from fever and sleep, “you’re really good at this.”

    Neuvillette tilts his head. “At reheating soup?”

    “No. Well. Yes. That too. But I meant this.”

    He gestures vaguely with his eyes—because his hands are trapped under the blanket and his pride is trapped under Neuvillette’s patience.

    Neuvillette hums, almost dryly. “At fussing over you?”

    “At staying,” Wriothesley says, more quiet now.

    Neuvillette does not respond right away.

    Instead, he dips the spoon back into the broth, scoops a careful portion, and brings it up again—steady, slow, like ritual. He waits for Wriothesley to part his lips. Waits until the soup is gone before saying softly,

    “You are surprisingly easy to stay for.”

    Or, Wriothesley gets sick, and Neuvillette gets soft.

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    1/1
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    235
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    13 May 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 29

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    Wriothesley lifts his head.

    “I want,” he says, with aching clarity, “whatever you’re ready to give.”

    Neuvillette swallows. His throat is dry.

    “And if I said I was ready for…very little?”

    “I’d call that a beginning.”

    He should look away. He should step back. He should remind himself of rank, of roles, of reason.

    Instead, he says, “Then take the beginning.”

    Or, Neuvilitte learns to want. Wriothesley already knows how to wait.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    12,225
    Chapters:
    1/1
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    1
    Comments:
    34
    Kudos:
    231
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    13 May 2026

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