#men are going to faint at the sight and mothers are going to steer their small children away from you in the streets

[torosdottir]

it is funny that some women will be like 'i have to wear makeup and impractical feminine clothing and shave my legs because of Society' and they will say this to a woman who does not wear makeup or impractical feminine clothing or shave their legs and has clearly somehow survived so like. what now

#most people dont even give a shit #idk gender-conforming women push this idea sometimes that like. if the world sees u with hairy legs people are going to recoil in horror #men are going to faint at the sight and mothers are going to steer their small children away from you in the streets #its so dumb. probably no-one is going to give a shit. i cant remember the last time someone negatively commented on my body hair.

[onyourhyuck]

Sinking Ships. | L.JN (M)

prologue- “Darling I know what you desire.” + “You have bewitched me.”

summary: lee jeno is a son to a wealthy aristocrat man who sails all over the world. therefore jeno has always felt at home on a ship, he decides to join his father on the expedition. however a dark storm overtakes them, but it wasn’t only Mother Nature who was their enemy. it was something below the horrific maddening seas.

tw- siren x human. sailor!jeno. horror. deaths mention. fantasy romance. dark content such as fighting scenes, gore can be mentioned. graphic detailed scenes. smut. romance. fluff. love at first sight but slow burn. Breeding. Penetration. Oral receiving female. Edging. Jeno big dick agenda. Boob play. Marking (hickeys.)

notes- Siren By Kailee Morgue is the whole inspiration this fic . KINKTOBER FIC

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jeno knew it would be a heinous suicide mission to get pass the horrific turning of events. The sea was too placid for a sanguine moon. There was a storm a-brewing.

The boat began to roll from side to side and the temperature dipped all of a sudden. Dark clouds obscured the moon above. As the crew mates gave in the chaos losing their calming focus, soon overlapping screams erect the boy’s ears .

“Captain we are heading straight at it!” The crocked tooth man shouts.

“Hold on the steering wheels. We can make it through.” Mr Lee orders confidently as he gets out the long scope peeking at distance of the black clouds shifting into a tornado almost. Jeno couldn’t believe the captain’s words, just sit still and await to be hit?

Jeno reaches up the wooden steps to the front of the wheel where the sailor controlling the shit with a wooden implant leg and fancy looking clothes of navy block the view. The captain turns to look at Jeno who has a face of suspicion and doubt.

“Father I think you’re trying to get us killed.” Jeno openly admits.

“Son as a man of the sea i know how to control the storms itself. I’ve survived plenty. This is nothing. In fact there are much scarier things for you to worry about.”

The wealthy man tells calmly as if it were factual. Though no one dares to stop the man, the crew-mates have no choice but to trust their leaders choices. But for Jeno he can’t see this going well. In his heart there is doubt, fright, and finally a bit of rebellion. The young man moves over to the side to watch the crashing waves fighting against the large black ship. Something in the water was going against them, Jeno would see multiple reflections in them. Until a human hand pops to the edge.

A sweet sickening voice resembling a distressing damsel, crying out for help, withholding a beauty unlike any other saw before. The other cremates look down in shock and awe, some moving to get the ropes.

Jeno watches with a raised eyebrow. How did they end up surviving such crashing waves and not drown? And how the hell did they fall in? The boy was left questioning this, eventually another girl caught his attention on the rock nearby in the faint distance. Singing. Singing a humming tune.

The world through the young aristocrat’ eyes become in a slow motion. The young boy staring at the beautiful golden locks, silky as seaweed and skin as glistening as the rain dripping. The young woman singing with her alluring voice change the storm ahead to become weaker and steady. Jeno looks at the front of the ball of storm tornado, seeing it disappear like magic. He gapes at the magic he is seeing for the first time ever, did she just make the storm go away?

When the young sailor was to look back at the woman, he simply couldn’t when a large yelp and a splash brought him to reality where the world was back speeding to something more maddening awaiting them. Something dark waiting for their weak spot.

The men on the ship shout in horror backing away but then a striking dark blue with fins as elbows pull on their bodies, dragging them into the swallowing sea,.

Jeno turns to his father in shock. “Father looks like we have another problem.”

Mr Lee unlocks the gun with silver bullets in, a rich fanatic hunter ready to shoot anyone and anything to its mercy who lands on his ship unannounced. Jeno doing the same thing, he unlocks the gear with his sword pointing at the front covering the idler’s back. Silence crept but not for long as the hungry sirens were on their way to capture every single man on sea. Through their unravelling black past of sins and revengeful desires in their hearts to defeat any sailor who rules on their territory; shall see the hands of their master and the drowning terror beneath the ocean where they shall never see light, skies and civilisation again. Jeno walks cautiously to the edge shooting on the water repeatedly till one revealing its true form, a Siren. Screaming at the bullets hitting on the hip lining.

“It’s a siren!” The man shouts across readying their own weaponry as Jeno and the captain stand side by side shooting once again. But even a man with a gun couldn’t be helped.

“Father look out!”

The captain soon felt a dragging force from his hem clothing, with a pull he was dragged on the edge, but a hand with muscular chisel out of statue held on tight, desperately as he cries for the captain’s safety. Praying endlessly.

“Father! Hold on please I’ll bring you to safety.” Jeno reassures as he grunts ,dropping the gun into the gear closing it— using the free hand to hold on to his father who was dragged by more than one siren now. The dangerous-looking fish like mermaids though without the humanoid form, they were simply bugs in the ocean. Jeno curses them in his head, as they were latching on his father’s body one by one, the force was far too strong.

He wasn’t ready to have his father die. Jeno is not going to let the sirens have their ways. The boy yells in anger as his muscles contract pulling on his father’s heavy body mass. The sirens soon had no power against such man strength. It was as if the young aristocrat’ son was an one man army. The strength out-done them with two arms versus five sirens, insane— for a human, he was strong alone. His father felt the swap exchange but he shouts at his son’s selfless actions.

The sirens found a new interest in the youngling. When Mr Lee was swapped thrown on board of the ship, the sight of Jeno looking at his father with a soft smile. “Jeno…no..you foolish boy” the captain aching groans with his hands weakly reaching to grab his son to safety, as he saw those black claws and deep blue hands slowly wrapping round the boy,

He was pulled down the ship and fell into the submerged sea chewing the human into endless pieces scattering into the deep black unknown. With voices of cackled and to witchery waiting to happen to him. In peace Jeno lies down in the blankets of sea, accepting death and welcoming it with a warm embrace. Even through the Black Sea, Jeno saw the beautiful glossing ingenious moon brightly shunning the way, they churned grimly in the night sky when a sudden striking swimmer came forward.

The vision was blurry all he could see was a beautiful silhouette of a young woman, with the same sickening voice he has heard before, the woman touched his face and in the moment Jeno was close to drowning with no oxygen left in the lungs. The invitation of grim reapers has a place for him on the list. Jeno is nothing more but a winnowing fermented rippling corse of the calming sea.

“Stay alive please.” The voice softly said with pleas, the boy couldn’t reply even if he wanted to as the next minute he felt a pair of lips softly scrape the edge on to his blue cold. Middle of the ocean of nowhere, a young dime saviour, his true knight in shining armour…

Has evoked life in him.

︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿

Freshly smell of rain and seaweed soon overtakes the man’s nostrils. The wealthy lord lands on an island middle of nowhere, by the shore, muddied into the sand with it’s rich clothes; hair soaking wet and lips as purple as the sunrise early morning. He was near resembling a corpse but thankfully, he were breathing.

Eyelids shakily open waking up to a small monkey staring down at the man’s face ahead, jeno flinches in panic screaming as he crawls away, pushing the animal away from his face where he stood with those two skinny legs.

“Holy- god. Where am I. I’m not dead.” Jeno exclaims loudly as he ran hands on through the body looking around he was met with the calm bright blue sea with yellow glint of the perfect clear sunny weather, a complete contrast to the memory he holds from last night.

The monkey cackles watching the man look scared as he climbs up on the palm tree branch to the top. The monkey whistles, like a call for someone. Jeno looks up suspiciously, soon those doubtful thoughts came to light when a young woman was swimming on shore.

“You’re alive. That’s a relief.” You would say with a happy beam. The worries from earlier leave her body system fast.

Jeno turns around to the young sight of the girl he saw before on the rock singing. She saw the boy’s jaw drop and eyes threatening to fall out of the sockets. He gurgles on his saliva unable to speak with what he saw. The woman he saw earlier with a tail on a rock singing at the storm. The woman who had the same exact voice as the one he heard under the water when he nearly drowned. Except now the woman was…

“You…you have legs.” Jeno stammers pointing at the feet in the shore digging inside the sand. The woman looks down at them as she soon remembers, the punishment.

She hums turning to look at Jeno. She fakes a smile, a happy one.

“Yeah. You like them?”

The man stays quiet turning around with hands on his head, thinking what the hell happened, clearly this wasn’t a dream as much as he wishes it was, neither did it make sense in reality. Last time he checked the ship was ambushed by sirens and last time he fact-checked in the library months ago that sirens cannot have feet! Yes they can shift into human disguises but only the upper half of their body. Hence why sirens rely on water to hide away their lower half which is a tail. But this woman in front of him looks so human to the point she has feet.

Jeno rubs his head when a striking headache hit the sides on the temple. He rubs them, grunting.

“This doesn’t make sense. You’re a siren aren’t you?” Jeno interrogates quickly as he walks forward but stops midway when she looks back at him. The girl even held this happy smile whenever he spoke to her, she was surprisingly calm and happy of the situation; which made him even more weirded out. He was feeling lost, abandoned, terrified and worried. She hums out agreeing.

“Yeah. Well. I was.” You pause.

“Was..?” Jeno follows up on her words as if he was awaiting an explanation. But she only gave him a simple nod. “Yeah, was.” She repeats.

He groans what was he expecting from a siren, seriously of course She wouldn’t tell him what he wants to know. Jeno shakes his head as he turns around the island forest awaiting him, he looks down to his bare feet. Great, I lost my shoes. Jeno thought. The man has to think for a while, maybe if he gets on top of the mountain on this island he can perhaps scope the area with his eyes and figure out where the hell he is. He’s on his own, technically. He has no intentions of teaming up with a siren who became human, especially when sirens are wicked witches of the ocean that he will terminate for ever ruining his life upside down.

He prays his father is safe. Jeno sighs walking forward but then a short live shout from behind took attention. He turns around noticing the young girl struggling to stand up and when she did, her balance was destroyed as she fell behind .

Jeno didn’t know why he reacted to help her even though he made his decision of abandoning the creature. He doesn’t know why his hands moved on his own, embracing the woman to no fall down into the swallowing ocean backwards. She gapes openly as her hands latch on the rich-like suit and the white dirt shirt, clenching as if her life depend on it. The human girl felt the warm from his breathe hitch when she had looked into his eyes so innocently .

Curse your eyes, Jeno thought. The way she looks so human made him conflicted it enough, it struck chaos in between the mind and the heart, because his heart feels gratitude for the stranger yet the mind can only replay the sirens ambushing the ship from last night over and over again as if it were a memory to haunt him forever.

“Thank you.” You tell softly and Jeno lets go off her body, but the moment he did she was so close to collapse on the ground again. The legs were shaking so much and she had no balance recognition, it is as if she doesn’t know how legs work. How her body works.

Jeno held her again this time by the waist so she would stand still. The girl looks at him, blinking continually as she felt the sudden tension rose. She held her breathing in, saliva stuck in the middle of her throat as the handsome man was watching her darkly and glaring; she knew he hates her probably, and she cannot blame him for doing so. But she doesn’t want him to look at her like he wants to make her disappear and cease to exist.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers as Jeno lifts her body with erase, to be honest he himself was surprised to feel that she weights barely anything, he didn’t need to try to lift her up in his arms bridal style. The boy didn’t say much but starts to walk into the forest. She felt her face go warm for some reason, unable to detect why her heart was beating so fast and this feeling of her body tickling everytime she focuses on the way his arms had her wrapped underneath the worn out dress grasping edge of her thighs and legs in process.

She couldn’t help but wonder where he is taking her, the human girl casually spoke.

“So where are you going?” She asked with a smile.

Jeno looks down at her, warningly speaking. “If you talk and ask questions I’ll drop you.”

“Ah…noted.” She whispers under her breathe. Perhaps it’s better to not speak to him right now. Instead you found your new friend, Monkey, to be a pleasant friend. The monkey following your traces from above swinging from trees to tree.

︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿

The destination wasn’t necessarily planned. Jeno knew there is no way he would make it on top of the mountain in a day, but at least he could make a journey start halfway. The man walks through the forest casually as he was carrying the girl in arms. He didn’t tell her where he was going, the journey was as silent as a grave; it made y/n’s skin pinch with anxiousness to see the man become so quiet.

It’s not like you know him but you know when you can tell the person is absolutely raging inside and he isn’t exactly happy with you tagging alone even though he seemed to be in conflict at the same time? Yeah well that’s exactly how you feel that he’s feeling towards you right now. She didn’t mean to put you into this situation, but somehow when you involved yourself it did make it possibly a little worse.

You felt his feet stop on the ground of leaves burrowing beneath the bare feet of his. You were dropped down on the rock softly as Jeno simply walks away down the hill where he heard a stream of water running.

By the time you guys finally took a stop he was walking for a minimum of four and a half hours straight without food or water. He must so thirsty, you thought. As you tried your best to stand up you couldn’t, falling back on the rock flat.

“How the hell can humans walk using these.” You roughly complain. The monkey jumps from the tree branches and on the girl’s shoulder as he gurgles noises.

“You’re right i should try.” You agreed to your new monkey friend who was completely right, you should force yourself to adapt to this new form you have. Surely it can’t be easy but that’s when the power of practice will help you.

The girl wearing this worn-out dress, multiple holes poking out, bare feet and with beautiful silky neat hair resting on the back. You stand up with the monkey on the shoulder balancing as you were beginning to shake roughly. But you limp forward a little and little each time, until you slowly made your way closer to the man who was resting by the river in the middle , with a sharp wooden stick sharpened by the edge of his gear.

He was fishing, you thought. The woman limps forward more until you fell into the floor on your knees panting a little, proudly. The monkey winches off the shoulder and into the mini big rocks resting there in the lake.

Jeno curses as he hasn’t got any fish thanks to god’s luck only. The man puts the wooden spear away as he gets out of water joining you by the side.

“At this rate we will starve.” Jeno states apathetically and you wobble upwards. “You can’t just give up. Fishing is a sport of patience.” You encourage.

He hears those encouragements of words but somehow he felt so numb by this situation, he was starting to wish he was dead instead. You purse your lips into a thin straight line watching him. “I don’t need your words alright. You can barely walk either. You’ll die at this rate as well.” Jeno bluntly tells the truth. The only difference is he’s accepting death too fast and you are declining death.

The monkey jumps onto the man’s shoulder pulling on the ears angrily as if he was scolding Jeno for saying such words to you. Jeno hisses pushing the Monkey into his hands holding it in the grasp.

“Right that’s it we’re having monkey tonight.” Jeno threatens with a roar. The monkey only snarls in response until you jump into grabbing the monkey back. The man looks up at you in disbelief.

“Yah that’s our chance of surviving. We have to eat the monkey.” He said.

You mewl, remarking. “Absolutely not. Kong is my friend. We will not eat my friend and ally of this forest.”

In disbelief the man said nothing but a scoff that he cannot believe his ears and eyes, what else was he expecting seriously? You were a siren and of course you would make friends with a bloody monkey on this island and even name it as if it were a person! And you named it Kong. Kong after the giant monkey that was a myth to children. He sighs defeated laying on the floor. “I’ll go and make a campfire then. Do whatever you want, as if i cared.” Jeno states , going up and walking away into the forest to go and grab resources for a small campfire.

The monkey hisses watching the man walk away and leave. You pet Kong’s head signing. “Don’t mind him. He’s just aggravated because he misses his family. Let’s go fishing how do you feel about that?” You positively beam once again and the monkey gave a nod. The two of you start joining in the lake calmly.

At first you subconsciously swim in the hollow lake stream bending down as you lift your dress a little and the monkey doing so too going inside the water. You two become real quiet when watching the streams.

You remember that when you were a siren, swimming with fishes, you learned to adapt to their length of swimming and timing. The sirens are made predators of the ocean and each siren pod has a queen. The queen is the most influential and powerful leader for the sirens and she holds magical powers to control everything, in other words she is the queen of the ocean.

If she orders, the Sirens do it without a thought twice about it. But you were different.

The moment you felt a fish slither in the water you quickly grab it with your hands right and proudly shout. The monkey jumps up excitedly as you pierce the fish with the wooden stick.

One fish down. One more to go.

By the time Jeno came back with sticks and stones to build the campfire you were still fishing and he would watch you in secret. The woman was more than capable of hunting as if she still had those instincts imprinted in the brain, you were one with water and the water was one with you, the way you sang sweet melodies with your voice strung him back to the time he felt allured by you completely. You are a beautiful woman with such strong traits it’s impossible to not feel the human heartbeat to not skip a beat around you.

With the final fish cut down into a wooden stick you approach the man with a wooden stack with fire made in front. Kong and Y/n made the way back, the three of you had some food for the night.

Jeno rests nearby the fire watching the fish cook on the stick. You rest with your knees to the chest, the woman staring at the fire with foreign emotions. Sirens never met fire in their life, unable to really, but the unknown element looks so passionate and beautiful you feel almost sorry for the sirens that they are unable to see such a thing with their eyes. Jeno took a glance to your complementing face, with a hint of worry in his tone he tugs you with words.

“What are you thinking about?” The man asks pondering on your state. The human girl breaks away from the fire and turns to gaze at Jeno, watching the fish cook.

You purse your lips apart watching the beautiful man next to you. “The food.” She lies.

The wealthy man let’s out a soft chuckle run out before pulling the fish away, he nudges you to take it before he took the raw fish which he starts to cook too. You pull the cook food closer as you nibble on it, though it was hot you felt your lips burn.

“Ouch!” You’d quietly wail as you touch your scorn lips, a soft flinch jolts through your body when the man rushes to your aid lifting the face by your chin. He looks at the upper lip with a soft sign. “It’s not terribly burnt. That’s a relief.” He breathes and you lick the sore area with your tongue.

“You’re such a klutz.” He throws at you in shock. It’s absolutely crazy how clumsy you actually are and you cannot argue with that either. The human girl rubs the back of her head as she pulls on the fish instead, then she eats it with small pieces. He watches you eat carefully now, he smiles unconsciously at the sight.

There was a moment where he found you endearingly loving. You’re such a brave and fearless girl who doesn’t give up so easily, but there is this clumsy girl who cannot be left alone otherwise you’d seriously harm yourself without knowledge. You speak to a monkey and named it even, Jeno still thinks you should’ve let the monkey be your dinner tonight considering it was less time consuming but you were happy to have the monkey live.

The mind goes back to the moment underwater where he was almost a goner of death but thanks to you, the way your lips gave up a bright light of life into him. He wonders why you saved him.

“Why did you save me back then when i was drowning…”

Jeno probed at you when flashing his eyes on you he was met with your large pupils that hold a story to be told. In no doubt there was a whole story that he isn’t aware of, the wealthy man couldn’t imagine such things you go through to where you are right now. The both of you are outcasts. Y/n slowly bites on the bottom lip shortly, turning back to the fish, you put it down on the stand. The monkey moves away from the scene and you hold your hands together, watching your feet.

What was the reason you have legs? Why did you save this man called Lee Jeno? And at what price and cost?

The woman’s voice came out as quiet as the winter’s snow approaching the city. Voice like down feathers floating in the air endlessly. The man watches you keenly as you take your time. Rubbing the hair strand behind the ears, the campfire dancing in front warmly sending its heat in the bodies from a suffering cold. “I saved you because you were dying, you see, I never intended on ambushing you and your father’s ship.”

“What I get for saving you from the other sirens, I lost my tail and i became human. I tried to keep you safe when the queen punished me for not doing as I was told. For going against her i am now stuck on this island too.”

Jeno sways forward. “Do you regret helping me?”

“No. Never.” He hears her gasp exclaiming loudly. He couldn’t help but smile a little. “I’m glad. Thank you for risking your life for me.”

“I can’t regret saving you. I feel so much for you.” You smile through your expression as he held your face closer. The way he slowly wraps a hand on your cheek brushing it with his thumb lightly, you felt your face heat with colour flushing to the surface. The way your eyes dilate together, as on you feel your heart beat together; Jeno murmuring softly. “You’ve bewitched me, Y/n.”

You purse your lips together as you mutter. “Darling I know what you desire.” You pause before looking away. “But it’s not me you want.”

Jeno let’s go off your face looking down. He wasn’t sure what he wants. Unlike you he wasn’t sure what he was feeling towards you but you were delusional, letting your heart feel any glimpse of hope to reciprocate feelings. Perhaps he has bewitched you.

“I don’t know what i want.” Jeno deadpans. “But I do know that i feel something for you. I’m just not sure what it is.”

“Perhaps.. this can help me figure it out.” Jeno slowly starts as he leans forward capturing your lips in a hold. You close your eyes in the moment, finding comfort in the slow soft kiss that Jeno has offered. He gently holds you close and you follow.

The way your feelings spark like a firework going crazy, he felt his heartbeat thumping and thumping over again like a wheel spinning. Y/n’s hands reach to the front of his shirt clutching it tightly, wrinkling it. He sweeps back the girl’s hair, humming in the kiss when it broke. Your eyes flutter open meeting his, quivering to reconnect lips again but you bury the urge to do so.

“Did you find your answer yet..?” Y/n softly asks. Jeno let’s out a pant, bringing you to an embrace. I did, I found the answer. he thought to himself.

“I have.” He states. “I can’t let you go again.” He reveals. Jeno is not planning to leave without you, you’re coming back with him home. He’s going to give you a new life. Jeno will take care of you.

In return, he will follow his true feelings for you.

︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿

Over the course of a few days it was survival and nothing else. Both Y/n and Jeno have travelled together through thick and thin, running into dangerous snakes on the island strain them with panic but nevertheless Jeno made a smart escape plan by ignoring the defensive creatures as they won’t attack unless you’re near them. Y/n learned to walk around on her own very slowly, with a held of a hand of course (Jeno). It seems like the more days closes in on them being together, doing these activities and survival as one, looking out for each other like teammates— it only increased their relationship to blossom like a blooming flower in spring. A withered thing at first changing into this brand new healthy sprout. It was crazy to Jeno, he cannot stop his mind from thinking about you; every second of the day he is wondering what you’re up to and if you’re safe and haven’t got eaten by some wild boar in this large forest caving in.

You’re the same though. You keep being drawn to the human man, with his exposed abs through the white blouse shirt wealthy men wear, his chiselled hourglass body only makes you fantasise of how it feels to be on top of it. Sometimes you stare far too long until he saw you staring so intensely at his back and waist like you were daydreaming, which you were, but in no way were you going to tell him that. Jeno would tease you, laugh with you or at you; he’d try to not find your stares across the pathway at him adorable but he cannot help it. You’re cute, resembling a lost puppy following him around.

On the fifth day still stuck on the island, the two land themselves on a village in the island residing with native tribes and such. Though with minimal English, they welcomed the two together. Surprisingly they were keen on keeping them to safety along with Kong joining the bunch too.

“You seem like a wealthy young man. How did you land on our island?” The native leader keenly asks as he sat down in front of the gazing fire pit . Jeno softly bows his head as he looks at Y/n, holding her hand when he saw her become anxious. It’s a first time as a human being in civilisation other than Jeno, of course you’d be stressing.

As he held her hand the native took notice of the small gesture but spoke none of it. Y/n smiles quietly taking in the hand and tightly holding on it, like it was a rope to safety.

“My ship ran into a storm and i happened to fall off board with my wife. We woke up on the shore far from here.” Jeno announces thickly.

Though he simply cannot mention sirens otherwise they would start to suspect you in the story, Jeno had to make a fake identity for you. He looks at you with a warm expression as you make eye contact with the native, bowing your head at him to avoid eye contact. The shyness mixing with anxiety was not the most reliable combination right now. The native man softly sighs.

“Ah we have a couple.” He congratulated. “I’m sorry for your situation. We have a radio here from our last sailors that came cross to this island. Maybe you can contact your father’s ship through that technology. I’m afraid I still don’t quite understand it.” The leader tells and Jeno nods.

“Will do. Thank you for letting us stay.” Jeno said with indent gratitude to the man. It’s been a long time since he’s been helped. You do the same, thanking him. The monkey reappraised as he sat on Jeno’s shoulder clapping.

The man smirks eyeing the monkey as he pin points it with the wooden cane at the animal on the man’s shoulder “You have a smart friend guiding you all along.”

Your eyes light up as you spoke, cheerfully ending it as you pet Kong’s head. “He came to us from the start. Suppose he owns the island.”

Jeno was met with your engagement in the conversation when speaking about your friend, Monkey, the way your eyes light up praising the animal as well as talking with the person in front made you look so humanised. He just knows you’d love it back at his hometown. It would fit you from head to toe, the people, the ships, animals seem to love you anywhere you go, As if you were a princess.

You felt Jeno stand up as you follow him bidding goodbye. The boy makes his way inside a tent belonging to you as well as the radio machine to contact civilians such as ships on broad nearby. You and Kong sit down as he lets go off your warmly kept hand, looking round the tent it seems spacious enough for the two of you to sleep at. Now the whole village knows you’re a couple you have to go and act along with it. Jeno wraps his hands on the buttons pressing on the numbers, waiting for the long static deadpan white noises to end and give a human voice but no reply. He lets out a frustrated sigh. Y/n can tell and see the way his eyebrows knit together and him clenching the jaw, he was getting upset by the lack of replying to his message and voice notes sending to anyone nearby. You crawl gently to the boy, putting a hand on his thigh with a small squeeze sending him to look at you.

You carefully linger as you rub your head on his shoulder bringing him in a warmth embrace to let him know patience is virtue. You tell him of course your father is safe and looking for you. The words sent him long peace of clarity in the situation, perhaps he needed to hear this from someone.

That his father wouldn’t stop looking for him. That he will return back home safely. That he will see his older sister and mother in open arms holding him tightly. And that he will bring you home with him, to share the happiness with you.

“It will be okay. We can keep trying tomorrow as well remember.” Y/n babbles to the sailor who softly smiles nodding.

“Mhm you’re right.” He hums, pulling away from your body to shut the radio off. Jeno sighs, before looking around the tent and the shared double bedding. “I hope you don’t mind sharing the tent with me.”

You shake your head. “Of course not. I’d rather sleep with you than sleep alone in a village we just met. I don’t think i can sleep alone here.”

He smiles upon your honesty that he so admired about you from the moment he met you. There wasn’t a time where you shown traits of sirens that are foretold in fairytales and information sailing books. He studied your kind, they aren’t meant to be trusted. They are wicked and seductive, using their appearance and beautiful voice to lure men for their lustful desires and then later, murder them in cold blood for revenge. But y/n never shown anything like that to Jeno. You’re far too kind, far too selfless and happy to be something so evil.

You’re a happy vitamin in a human form. Jeno brings his head down to your thighs where he rests on your legs suddenly . He hears a soft yelp from your lips in surprise to feel the way he plops on your curve thick legs resting on them if they were a pillow. He had his eyes closed resting so peacefully on you.

Little did he know that you were blushing so hard it’s going to be super annoying to hide it. But even though you were as red as rose petals, you were stuck on watching his strong structured face. He was handsome, no mistake on that. The little mole on his cheek rests there as you rub your soft thumb on it, stroking his face so carefully . Watching him happens to be your favourite activity. When he was on the ship, you would stare at the boy scoping in the distance, laughing and singing with his sailor crew mates. The way he happily follows in his father’s footsteps as he was his role model. The wind brushing in the thick black hair. You were bewitched by him, by a human. Mayhaps it was love at first sight for you.

You just knew the moment your eyes land on him, he was the one for you. Y/n moves her lips forward to softly peck the sleeping man softly. Jeno feels the pair of lips landing a loving kiss, the moment she pulls away by a few inches to see if he was still asleep, Jeno’s eyes carefully open as he saw a pair of eyes already looking at him. The moment felt so perfect. Nothing distracting them. The atmosphere was relaxing and quiet, no words were spoken between the two, only their eyes held in contact watching one another with equal amount of want and need. It’s like they were communicating with their eyes.

A pair of hands grasp the girl’s face on both sides as Jeno lifts himself up softly kissing her lips back. The girl calmly returns the action, with same amount of passion pouring in it like it were a bucket of love meter. The man falls on top of you, holding you in a place as he caressed your body with whatever he pleases. Stroking your legs up to your waist. He pulls away leaving the kiss break with a soft gasp from both. He pleas,

“You can touch me.” Jeno tells as you watch him sending a soft nod, your arms didn’t waste a second before latching on his neck reconnecting your lips with him again.

Emotions rise up high like the ocean waves, Flowing forward and backwards in the gentle cradling rockabye; the night became an escalating Black Sea hole, sinking everything to savour the moment high. The bodies slipping off their clothes reside in each other’s warm, the small lamp on the side put out as they found comfort in the darkness and with each other’s bodies. The two swapping positions continually until settling for one. As well as becoming quiet like the wind to not get caught. Jeno found the escaping moans that weren’t able to be controlled or swallowed like the unpredictable sea to be the most soothing sounds he has ever heard.

She found pleasure to be Jeno and only him. Never once have the woman experienced such a thing or desire to do this in her life. The human body that you are still getting used to was much sensitive than you ought to think it would be. A simple action from jeno with his fingers resting at your wet folds or his fingers putting you in a clenching contraction of your insides, was enough to sent many impulses in your body to quiver in endless blooming emotions. It was insane, how a man you love could look so mesmerising on top of you, with his head stuck in between your legs, devouring you from the sensitive clit rushing with blood inside.

Your moans were either swallowed or softly let out, but it was getting harder to do so when you felt the air leave your lungs so quickly with each moan. At times you were mewling into your hands, which left Jeno to darkly grin at you, the sight of your flushed pale face going red, eyes turning teary eyed and your lips bitten deeply to be as quiet.

“I-I can’t no’more.” You pant heavily pulling your hand forward on the man’s chest as he looks up from your soaking pussy. He couldn’t help it, getting lost in making you come so many times. He gently wraps his fingers to interlock on your hand, kissing your arms with a deep breathy voice.

“You can take it. One more, Y/n.” He promises to you, he saw the way your voice tightens after a swallow as you nod.

Whatever he says you do, wanting to give yourself up for him was a mere underestimation. You’d do anything he wants if he asked for, and you know he would do the same. A ride or Die was perhaps the right definition but at the same time it was even beyond that. When he reconnects his lips to your soaking womanhood, the orgasm you fought hard was let go and as you did, a long awaiting waterfall came out spouting in his mouth. He keenly took all of it before wiping his mouth, as he was met with your arching body.

How badly you were aching for him, it felt like a burning sting that couldn’t be put out unless he enters you now or never. You whine. “I need you so badly. Tell me you feel the same way.” You whisper to the man you love dearly.

“I need you and only you, my beautiful Y/n.” He said without a hesitation, an equal amount of desperation for you to be his and only his to see like this. Jeno will take you home, he will marry you even if his parents will not approve, Jeno will never leave your side. The words left a printing memory in your heart as a sudden sprung of your Red Sea walls stretch at the mere girthy length. The thick lining breaking apart, you bury your face in your lover’s chest as your trembling arms pin themselves on his neck. Jeno took his time with you, as he doesn’t want to hurt you for the first time and it was his first time too.

He doesn’t want to rush such a beautiful moment with you underneath him. Jeno himself fights the urge to not just ram in you as your warm insides wrap themselves on his cock following his shape perfectly. He lets out a loud grunt, which made you think he isn’t the only one feeling overwhelmed with such emotions. You bring him into a kiss, where he swallows his moans in to be quiet.

It wasn’t a minute later till he had your wet insides squelching loudly the more the hips thrust forward like a pivoting machine without a breaking stop. The heavy weight from above made every hitting movement memorable for your body to have loss of common sense. The way he had to challenge himself mentally to not release so early, but it was hard when you felt amazing and the way you were reacting to him makes it hard to control the situation itself.

Y/n chokes on a few overlapping moans when he only fastens the peace, you could tell he was only getting closer and closer with each messy body lining in you, ramming right in to the womb. He deeply sighs in the air. “Your insides are pulling me closer and closer— fuck— I won’t last .” He couldn’t form a proper sentence but somehow you caught on with your daze expression you shake your head.

“Please I need you inside. Don’t let a single slip out.” You urge into begging to the man who felt his eyes darken at your order. You’re going to be the death of him, that’s for sure. With your sweet alluring voice that sounds like ocean’s music to his ears, he couldn’t say not you. Jeno has always found your voice to be the most important. He could go on days listening to you.

He grunts. “Anything for you. I’ll give you anything and everything, you just have to ask.” Jeno said like it were a threat because of how serious he was about this. He will do anything and everything for you. Ask for the world and he shall proceed. Ask for the entire seas and he will do so.

You close your eyes tight when he had lean closer to your neck kissing it deeply as he sucks on your exposed necktie and down to your beautiful perky breasts, whilst still completely going rampage inside you by the way he never dared to flaw his pace down. Then the expecting has happened when Jeno deeply exhales a breathe, your insides fuming with Jeno still inside; he has filled you up with his own fluids that has sent you to paradise. He saw stars when watching you pant with him as one, he goes to plant a kiss on your lips to see if you were still with him or perhaps you were still getting over the pleasure.

You return it back slowly, achingly trembling with your thighs shaking underneath the weight belonging to him.

“I love you.” He confesses. “Come with me back home.” Jeno pleads as he held eye contact on your face. He could tell he has surprised you with the sudden plead, the way he was begging to you to accept it.

You murmur. “Home…? Like a human village?” You would reply and he shakes his head.

“It’s more like a city. Home. I want to give you a life you deserve.” Jeno said back as he held your face in his hands, thumb stroking over your cheeks lovingly as you warmly watch him teary eyed.

Home. The repetition of home echoes in your head like it were a forbidden word you wouldn’t ever hear. You nod softly as you cry suddenly bursting into soft tears running down the cheeks. Jeno watches you in awe, never would he thought he would find a girl looking so euphoric and beautiful as crying. The tears of joy touch the deep ends of his heart, as he kisses your forehead.

“I’ll come with you .” You said with a soft smile.

Home is where Jeno is.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out <3

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #jeno smut #nct hard hours #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno hard thoughts #jeno hard hours #nct dream smut #nct dream fanfic #nct fic #nct recs #nct dream

[petals2fish]

Chapter 16: The Druids (Lily’s POV)

The druid encampment lay nestled in a tranquil valley, shielded from the dangers of dragon territory, their path guided solely by James' remarkable sense of direction. Despite his assurances, they strayed off course twice, prompting Marlene's frustrated outbursts to steer them back on track. Lily's initial excitement, evidenced by the bouquet of flowers she had collected, dwindled as they pressed onward, passing James' water flask between them to quench their thirst. As the sun dipped below the horizon, a chill settled in the air, causing goosebumps to rise on Lily's skin.

"We're almost there," James reassured her, noticing her fatigue evident in her third yawn within twenty paces. "We'll need to stay with the druids tonight, I have a friend there who will help us."

"The whole night?" Lily blinked wearily. "James, I can't afford to delay—my mother's life is on the line."

"We are well aware that Ruber is behind us," James said calmly, "so we can spare a few hours. Marlene insists you look on the verge of collapse."

Marlene's cry from above echoed, earning a glare from Lily as she glanced up at the elegant falcon. “Alright– but only because I'm hoping that dragon killed Ruber for us.”

That was our Great-Aunt Hilda, Remus interjected with a snort. Based on our last Hatch Day, she's probably got them all roasted on a spit. 

Lily shivered as she glanced behind them, ensuring Ruber's iron men weren't in sight. “I hate to break it to you, Remus, but Ruber likely escaped before your aunt did.”

As they pressed forward, Lily's exhaustion began to weigh heavily on her, each step becoming a struggle against weariness. Unintentionally straying from the path behind James, she found her head drooping as she fought to remain awake and alert. The sun was going down, casting dark shadows everywhere she stepped. Suddenly, her foot slipped on loose ground, sending her tumbling. 

Her cries reverberated through the air as her hair whipped around her face. Lily's heart raced as she plunged into the abyss, her breath catching in her throat as she descended further. Swallowed by darkness, her screams were muffled, her hands scrabbling against a smooth stone wall in a frantic bid to halt her fall.

From above, cries of surprise from the wyverns mingled with Lily's own cries as she fought for a grip on the slick walls. With a sickening splash, she crashed into water below, the impact driving the air from her lungs as she struggled to stay afloat in the icy depths. Her clothes clung to her skin, the feeling unpleasant even after years of playing in the waves by the shore with her father. 

For a moment, panic threatened to overwhelm her, the darkness pressing in on all sides as she struggled to orient herself in the murky depths. But then, fueled by determination, Lily kicked against the water, propelling herself upward toward the faint light filtering down from above.

Her lungs burned with exertion as she broke through the surface, gasping for air as she clung to the rough stone walls of the well.

“Help me!” She screamed, “James!”

"Lily!" James's voice echoed down to her, filled with concern, as he called out her name, his words distorted by the distance between them.

“James!” Lily coughed, her voice strained. “I fell into a well!”

“Hold on!” James’s voice sounded distant, distorted by the echoes reverberating through the stone shaft.

Suddenly, a gentle breeze swept through the stagnant air within the well, caressing Lily's hair and whispering softly in her ear. She imagined it to be Aura, the wind spirit, serenading her with an unfamiliar melody from distant realms. The delicate spirit danced around her, playing with strands of her wet hair while Lily clung tightly to a rough protrusion on the well's wall.

“James!” She sobbed, looking up at the only light above, “Please get me out of here!”

There was no answer.

She felt her chest tighten, wondering if he’d left her for dead. 

As the cold water seeped into her bones, tears welled up in Lily's eyes. "I'm so frightened, Aura," she murmured, her voice trembling with fear. "Please, please tell James not to leave me. Please."

Lily!  Sirius' voice interrupted Aura’s reassuring touch on Lily’s cheek. James ran off, I think he left you behind. 

"What?" Lily gasped, disbelief washing over her. "He really left me?"

Her heart skipped a beat as she considered whether James had anticipated this turn of events all along, despite their shared experiences of the past day. Had he, after all this time, been waiting for one misstep to abandon her and pursue Excalibur alone with the falcon? Lily couldn't fathom it, no, she refused to believe it.

Remus' head appeared, displacing Sirius' silhouette against the light from above as he shouted down to her, He didn’t abandon her, you fool, he went for help. 

“Oh Remus,” Lily nearly sighed with relief. "Thank goodness. Where’s he gone?"

The druid camp is nearby, Remus informed her, his voice carrying reassurance amidst the darkness. James says they'll be able to help, since he's useless. 

"He's blind, not useless, Remus," Lily snapped, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.

He said it himself, Remus retorted, his words echoing in the chilly air, not me. 

“Is Marlene with James?” Lily sought confirmation, her voice quivering with a mix of hope and anxiety.

Yes, the falcon is with him, Remus confirmed.

Lily leaned her head back into the water, feeling the cold seep deeper into her bones as tears continued to stream down her face. “Merlin, I hope they hurry.”

In the depths of the well, darkness engulfed them as the sun vanished beyond the horizon, leaving Lily in total obscurity. Shivers wracked her entire body uncontrollably, and she imagined her hands turning a shade of blue, if only she could see them. Warm tears mingled with the frigid water, tracing cold paths down her cheeks. She had to have been in the water for a while now.

James still hadn't come back for her.

What if he never did? 

“I say, Lily, what's the matter?” Sirius' voice broke through the silence, laced with genuine concern.

“I’m scared,” Lily confessed, her words heavy with fear. She had never felt more isolated, even with the comforting presence of the wyverns above her. “I’m cold. I’m tired. Until now, I’ve never strayed far from my family's farm. I've always had warm meals, clean clothes, and a bed to sleep in. But now, my mother is being held captive, and I find myself trapped in a well in druid territory after narrowly escaping being a dragon's meal. I just wanted to be a knight, but I can’t even walk in a straight line without falling into a well!”

Her voice cracked as she poured out her pent-up emotions, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her like a heavy burden. She felt as though she might sink, letting the water engulf her. Her father would be so disappointed if he saw her now, crying like a child at the bottom of a well. 

So much for being a lioness. 

It's okay to be scared, Remus' voice echoed off the well. Look at Sirius, he's never been brave a day in his life.

Remus yelped, as if Sirius retaliated for that comment, before Sirius' smooth voice joined Lily at the bottom where the water swirled around her legs. If I can brave living with this lump on my neck for five hundred years, you can do anything Lily. 

Lily laughed though her tears, "have you two always bickered so terribly?"

"Lily!" James' voice echoed in the darkness, breaking through the cold silence just as Lily's nose started to blow bubbles in the chilly well water. 

"James!" Panic surged within her, but she managed to respond amidst the chattering of her teeth, "I'm here! Did you bring help?"

Suddenly, flames burst at the well's mouth, casting eerie shadows on the walls, and a woman's face appeared, illuminated by the flickering light, her features pale as moonlight. Taken aback, Lily fell back into the water, her red hair fanning around her as she stared up at this woman.

"Well, she's quite the sight, James," the woman remarked to her companion teasingly.

"Just toss her the rope, Mary," James urged, a note of urgency creeping into his voice, tension thick in the air. 

"Touchy," Mary teased, her tone light.

"Watch it, or I'll offer you to the wyverns," James retorted, his voice oddly calm, though Lily knew he didn't mean it.

"See, this is why you're still single," Mary teased James playfully before Lily saw something slender being tossed down into the darkness. Like a lifeline, Lily watched as the rope descended, its end splashing into the water at her left ear.

"Grab hold!" Mary called down urgently. "James and I will pull you up!"

Lily's heart surged with relief as she instinctively seized the rope, her grip firm as she readied herself to ascend from the frigid, murky depths of the well. Inch by inch, she ascended, the darkness gradually yielding to a dim light above. Her fingers stretched out eagerly, grasping for the swaying grass as she emerged, drenched and trembling.

Collapsed on the ground, her body shaking violently, Lily felt James drop his staff and kneel beside her in an instant. Though tears and water obscured her face, she sensed his concerned gaze searching for her. Another sob escaped her lips, a silent admission to the one person she wished didn't witness her vulnerability. James shook his head at the sound of her cry. 

"Oh Lily," His warm hands cupped her face, sending a soothing wave of heat through her freezing skin as he whispered, concern evident, "Are you hurt?"

“C-cold,” Lily managed to utter through chattering teeth, feeling the air's chill seep into her bones. "So cold." 

James' hands didn't leave her cheeks, he just held her, pressing his forehead to hers. "You scared the life out of me."

"Imagine how I felt." Lily's entire body was seizing up with every shiver. 

"Here," Mary, the woman who had thrown the rope, came into focus amidst the dimness. "Take my cloak, Lily." 

Lily glanced up just in time to see Mary gracefully unfasten a long emerald cloak from her slender frame. In that fleeting moment, Mary appeared to Lily as the embodiment of beauty, her fair features softened by the flickering light of the flames she held aloft on a stick. Her braided hair gleamed like spun gold, and her sapphire eyes shimmered with an intense luminosity even in the night's darkness.

With a gentle touch, Mary draped the cloak around Lily's quivering figure, nestling it securely around her shoulders. Instantly, the warmth of the garment enveloped Lily, offering a welcome relief from the bone-chilling cold of the well's depths.

"Th-thank you," Lily stammered, her voice trembling with gratitude as she wrapped the cloak tighter around herself. The soft fabric offered a small comfort amidst the turmoil surrounding her.

James released her face, rising with the support of his staff as he cleared his throat. "I'm so thankful you were easy to find tonight, Mary."

"You're going to owe me big time," Mary replied, a hint of jest in her tone as she assisted Lily in standing. "After this and leaving me to patch up our failed engagement, I have half a mind to demand your balls be chopped off for ceremonial reasons."

Lily was so cold and uncomfortable, she barely registered the conversation. 

"Failed engagement?" James raised an eyebrow, amusement mixed with confusion on his face, as he stood in between Lily and the beautiful woman. "I don't recall that."

Lily just stood there, shivering, as the wyverns wrapped their slim body around her, curling their tail like a snake. Their scales were impressively warm, and Sirius placed his head on hers, eyes gleaming in the firelight. Lily dug her hands into the warm underbelly, her entire body shivering. Marlene watched from nearby, her intelligent eyes not leaving Lily’s. 

She's freezing to death. Marlene screeched, but James didn't hear her because he was still arguing with Mary. 

"He's too busy flirting, Marley." Lily said under her breath to the bird. 

"Flirting?" James had caught wind of Lily's words at least and sounded offended, "Ew, Lily, I have self respect."

Mary shot Lily a pointed look with a hand on her hip. "Did you know my father tried to arrange a match between that idiot and me, and a day later he left without telling anyone just to avoid the possibility of marrying me?"

“F-failed to m-mention it.” Lily muttered, her breath choppy.

"To be fair," James interjected hastily, "they believed our marriage would fulfill some prophecy or religious nonsense."

“Is there a point to this?” Lily asked bluntly.

Mary frowned at Lily's less than enthused expression. "Oh dear, we're being terribly rude, James. She's barely standing. Let's get her to my tent for dry clothes."

Lily nodded weakly, still shivering, tears continuing to flow down her cheeks. "Please," she whispered, carrying the weight of exhaustion and fear in her voice.

James raised his staff, halting Mary in her tracks. "Wait, what about the wyverns?"

"What about them?" Lily furrowed her brow as the animal in question unraveled from Lily, both heads resting on either of her shoulders as if still trying to warm her. 

"They can't come back to camp," Mary interjected. "Magical creatures aren't welcome in druid society, unless they're part of rituals."

So dead, Sirius said, his eyes devoid of humor.

Remus showed his white teeth in Sirius' direction. You'd make a lovely stuffed head, Sirius.

"You two had better stay away from the camp," James directed towards the wyverns. "Just wait for us on the outskirts of the village."

Mary exchanged a peculiar glance with James, a silent understanding passing between them. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’re still talking to animals, I see.”

“You’re still jealous, I take it?” James retorted.

Lily blinked in realization and turned to Mary. "You can't understand them?"

Mary faced Lily. "No, can you?"

"Lily has wild magic, like I do," James clarified, lowering his staff and wrapping an arm around Lily's waist for support. "Now, enough talking. Help me get her back to camp before the pookas come out."

"What the hell is a pooka?" Lily grimaced as she attempted to walk, her frozen joints protesting with each step.

"Nasty little beasts," Mary explained with a shudder. "They lure people into traps and then feast on their hearts right out of their chests."

“Lovely,” Lily remarked dryly.

"We tend to avoid nighttime travels around these parts," Mary continued, glancing up at Marlene circling overhead. "Luckily, your bird seems to be smart enough to recognize a pooka when she sees one."

Do pookas like wyverns? Remus inquired from behind the humans, his voice tinged with apprehension.

"You two have two hundred teeth between you," James commented, still holding tight onto Lily's side. "I think you can handle a creature a quarter of your size."

Two hundred teeth, Sirius remarked, swiping at the air with his tail and accidentally hitting James in the back of the head. How do you know? You can't even see us! 

"You know what, Mary?" James redirected his attention to the blonde beside him. "I take it back, you can have my magic."

"Why?" Mary asked, intrigued.

"Then you'd be stuck listening to those wyverns whine all the time, and I'd have peace and quiet," James muttered.

Mary chuckled, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "You haven't changed at all, have you?"

"Has he always been this grumpy?" Lily interjected, feeling the warmth returning to her toes as she regained her energy to speak.

"Oh, yes," Mary responded with a grin spreading across her red lips, "but he grows on you... like fungus on a tree stump."

James's tone carried a hint of irritation. "Lay off, Mary. You know you're just mad you didn't get to marry me."

"I pity the fool who does marry you," Mary shot back with ruthless precision.

Suddenly, up ahead, hundreds of fluffy white sheep were gathered under the starlit sky. A few people strolled among them, their outlines visible against the darkness, each holding a firestick, much like the one Mary held in her free hand.

"Now's the time to get lost," James instructed the wyverns sternly. "And keep your claws off the sheep."

That's cruel, Sirius remarked, a drool slipping from his mouth.

Unbelievably so, Remus concurred, though the wyverns obediently retreated and disappeared into the long grass.

“Please don’t kill them,” Lily begged, “they’re so cute.”

I’m cute too, Sirius snarled, but you aren’t begging the sheep not to eat me. 

Double standards, I tell you. Remus remarked casually. 

"Do you think they'll take a sheep out?" Mary queried James, her distrust evident.

"I do," James admitted. "But likely just one, and they'll probably lie about it later."

"Well," Mary sighed, her concern palpable, "as long as they don't harm any of the people."

"I don't think people are on their menu," Lily chimed in. "And they don't strike me as skilled hunters either, so your sheep are probably safe."

Hey! Remus hissed, making Lily laugh into James' arm. 

James jumped a bit when he felt her breath cover his skin, her nose brushing against his warm bicep. Lily looked up at him through her tangled wet hair, seeing he was a tad red in the cheeks. Her smile lifted even more widely as she purposely tucked her head into his shoulder. His hand tightened at her waist in response. 

If Mary noticed, she said nothing. Instead, she was watching the wyverns slink off into the dark without being spotted by anyone but a few sheep who ran in the opposite direction, startling some of the sheep dogs standing at attention. 

The sheep, mostly dozing, stirred occasionally as they traversed the landscape, guided by Mary's steady gait. Eventually, they arrived at a perimeter of stones enclosing a camp of white canvas tents. Arranged in concentric circles, the tents gradually decreased in size towards the center, leading them to a central bonfire where an elderly man sat cross-legged, his hand moving gracefully over the flames.

"Father, can you help my friend?" Mary's voice cut through the crackling fire, breaking the night's silence.

The man turned, his square-cut jaw framed by long black hair, and his piercing gaze first met Mary's, who held Lily tightly. By Lily's side stood James, his demeanor tense. Lily yawned, falling even more into James grasp as her knees wobbled. The air was cold, and she was still wet, it wasn’t getting any warmer…not even near the fire. 

"James?" the old man uncrossed his legs and rose, recognition flickering in his eyes. "Is that you?"

"Hello, Gregory," James greeted with a slight bow. "A pleasure to hear your voice again."

"Have you come to finally accept Mary's hand in marriage?" Gregory inquired, a hint of surprise softening his features, eyes fluttering to Lily warily. 

"No," James replied, a tinge of embarrassment coloring his tone, eliciting a small smile from Lily. "We were passing through, and my... my friend fell into one of your abandoned wells."

"She's freezing," Mary told her father, "and dead on her feet." 

Gregory turned his full attention to Lily, his blue eyes assessing her with concern. "I will gather some herbs. Mary, take her to your tent and help her change into dry clothing. James, please accompany me so we can...catch up."

Though James hesitated, he finally released his grip on Lily's waist and followed Gregory's lead. Marlene followed the boy, ever the loyal guide.

Meanwhile, Mary guided Lily slowly towards a tent on the left, offering her steady support every step of the way. The tent resembled the others closest to the fire, with a square shape and embroidered roses adorning the flaps.

As they stepped into the tent and Lily's eyes adjusted to the dim light, she realized the druids lived with nothing but comfort in mind. Mary's abode was adorned with an array of rugs, animal skins, and plush fabric seats arranged for lounging. In the center of the room, a small fire crackled, sending tendrils of smoke spiraling upwards through a hole in the tent's roof. Lily noticed the scent of various herbs mingling in the air, carried by the smoke, causing her mind to feel pleasantly heavy with their soothing aroma.

“Sorry the fire’s low,” Mary told Lily as she sank into one of the two mattresses available, “I was actually on sheep watch with my dog, and lucky I was, because James would’ve taken longer to get into camp unnoticed by my father.”

“Is your father the–the one in charge?” Lily wasn’t sure what to call the man she’d met with the long dark hair.

"He is our king, for all intents and purposes," Mary explained, her voice carrying a sense of reverence as she tended to the fire, coaxing it to burn brighter with some sticks before crossing the tent to a wooden chest overflowing with fabrics. "The people choose our priest, as is customary, and the priest leads according to the laws of the druids."

As relief flooded Lily, she swiftly shed her tunic, the damp fabric sticking and pulling as she hastily removed it. Grimacing, she noted the bruises still marring her skin, remnants of Ruber's vicious assault. Mary gasped at the sight of the purplish marks scattered across Lily's body, her concern evident in her widened blue eyes.

"What happened to you?" Mary's voice trembled with worry. "James—he didn't give much detail, only mentioned you were traveling together."

"My farm was attacked," Lily explained, "James and I crossed paths incidentally."

She struggled to peel off her leggings, grappling with the stubborn fabric until she finally succeeded. However, halting at her shoes, she realized she needed to remove them first. Despite the slow and awkward process, Lily persisted, determined to rid herself of the soggy attire.

"Forgive me if I pry too much," Mary murmured, kneeling beside Lily and laying dry clothes beside her damp skin. "I rarely encounter new faces. Are there farms beyond dragon territory?"

Lily shook her head softly. "No," she answered. "Beyond dragon territory, there's mostly forest. It shifts into marshy lands where James resides. My home lies farther, at the border of the forest and the sea."

Mary nodded thoughtfully, her blue gaze contemplative. "So, James didn't cause those bruises?"

Lily shook her head vigorously. "No, he's been nothing but kind…if not a little prickly at first meeting."

"Sure, he can be a bit prickly," Marlene grinned, her eyes crinkling with amusement, "but he's as loyal as our sheepdogs, and incredibly sharp."

Lily hesitated, then asked, "Did you... want to marry him?"

"James?" Marlene chuckled and shook her head. "No, my father is just ambitious. He hoped James would lead alongside me if he could swing it."

“Why?” Lily inquired. “Because James has wild magic?”

Marlene nodded. “Exactly. It’s been decades since anyone in our tribe possessed wild magic. But before my time, there was supposedly another tribe not far from here. They were said to be witches with wild magic.”

Lily noted Mary's yearning for wild magic, detecting the envy in her tone. "You wish for wild magic." 

Mary, however, remained nonchalant. "Maybe with it, I could become the lead priest, liberating our community from the confines of religious chains and instead encouraging a new era."

Captivated by Mary's vision, Lily inquired with concern, "But must one possess wild magic to become a priest?"

Mary clarified, "Being a woman, I face insurmountable barriers to leadership. Wild magic might sway the elders to consider me, but as it stands, I'm dismissed as just a girl."

"Just a girl?" Lily scoffed. "I believe girls are just as resilient and capable of leading as boys."

Mary's smile waned as she gazed at Lily. "You were raised beyond the forest realm; surely girls elsewhere have more opportunities."

Lily shook her head. "Not all."

"But there are queens, witches, and priestesses," Mary countered. "Girls can aspire to anything!"

"Not everything," Lily murmured, combing her long red hair. "Not a knight."

Confusion flickered in Mary's eyes. "A knight? Is that your aspiration?"

"More than anything," Lily confessed. "But it seems–so far from my grasp lately."

Mary reached out, her golden hair shimmering in the light. "Any girl who endures as you have and embarks on quests through the forbidden forest deserves knighthood."

Grateful, Lily smiled. "And you deserve to lead, regardless of your sex."

"We both deserve our dreams," Mary affirmed. 

Lily reached for the dry set of clothes as Mary worked on braiding Lily’s hair back for her. The clothes matched Mary’s current attire, but were dark blue with pearled beads on the edges. Lily slid the skirt over her bare legs, relishing the feel of the wool against her skin. Once she pulled the blouse over her head, she realized it buttoned up at the back, so she turned to let Mary fasten it for her.

With Mary’s help, Lily settled back against the soft mattress, sighing deeply and closing her eyes. Mary moved around the tent, attending to tasks as they awaited the return of James and Mary’s father. The smoke from the fire, heavy with herbs, caused Lily to drift in and out of sleep, especially when Mary began to sing a sweet lullaby, soothing Lily into her dreams.

She stirred from her slumber, roused by James' nearby voice. Opening one eye, she noticed the fire had dimmed once more. Mary lay on a mattress across the room, with James standing guard in front where the wind kept knocking the flaps of the tent back and forth. He leaned on his staff, his gaze directed generally towards Lily, though she knew he couldn't see her. His voice, as soft as Mary's singing, lulled her in and out of sleep.

"He wasn't too upset about me leaving without explanation," James's voice carried a weary tone, "but we've been advised to depart by sunrise."

"That's the consequence of breaking his precious daughter's heart," Mary remarked playfully.

"Oh, absolutely," James retorted, nudging Mary's shoulder with his staff, "you seem utterly devastated."

Mary giggled, pushing his staff away. "Go on, get some sleep, I'll keep watch over her."

Lily closed her eyes, drifting back into a sleep, as if the herbs in the air induced a coma like sleep. She wondered how Mary wasn’t half asleep as well. Lily took in a deep breath and then let it out, the sigh releasing some of the tension in her shoulders. The sheep skin she was on was the softest thing ever, and she hadn’t felt so safe in days. 

"What are your thoughts on her?" James suddenly asked Mary.

"I think whoever inflicted those bruises on her deserves a few," Mary's voice dripped with disdain.

James's voice wavered for a moment like Mary had shocked him, "What bruises?"

"She's covered in bruises, from head to toe," Mary explained matter-of-factly. "I noticed them when she changed. She mentioned someone did it to her back home, during an attack on her farm. Do you know who it was?"

James fell silent for a moment before responding solemnly, "Yes, I do. And if I ever come across him again, he'll pay dearly for his actions."

Mary perked up at his protective tone, “wait, what do you think of her?”

“G’night Mary," James began to walk quickly out of the tent flaps, disappointing Lily.

“Come back here!” Mary hissed after him. “Coward!”

Lily decided she really liked Mary.

#jily #lily evans #james potter #jily fanfiction #jily fic #jple #quest for camelot

[ladysansalannister]

The Garden of Proserpine

“Here, where the world is quiet;

Here, where all trouble seems

Dead winds' and spent waves' riot

In doubtful dreams of dreams;

I watch the green field growing

For reaping folk and sowing,

For harvest-time and mowing,

A sleepy world of streams.

I am tired of tears and laughter,

And men that laugh and weep;

Of what may come hereafter

For men that sow to reap:

I am weary of days and hours,

Blown buds of barren flowers,

Desires and dreams and powers

And everything but sleep.

Here life has death for neighbour,

And far from eye or ear

Wan waves and wet winds labour,

Weak ships and spirits steer;

They drive adrift, and whither

They wot not who make thither;

But no such winds blow hither,

And no such things grow here.

No growth of moor or coppice,

No heather-flower or vine,

But bloomless buds of poppies,

Green grapes of Proserpine,

Pale beds of blowing rushes

Where no leaf blooms or blushes

Save this whereout she crushes

For dead men deadly wine.

Pale, without name or number,

In fruitless fields of corn,

They bow themselves and slumber

All night till light is born;

And like a soul belated,

In hell and heaven unmated,

By cloud and mist abated

Comes out of darkness morn.

Though one were strong as seven,

He too with death shall dwell,

Nor wake with wings in heaven,

Nor weep for pains in hell;

Though one were fair as roses,

His beauty clouds and closes;

And well though love reposes,

In the end it is not well.

Pale, beyond porch and portal,

Crowned with calm leaves, she stands

Who gathers all things mortal

With cold immortal hands;

Her languid lips are sweeter

Than love's who fears to greet her

To men that mix and meet her

From many times and lands.

She waits for each and other,

She waits for all men born;

Forgets the earth her mother,

The life of fruits and corn;

And spring and seed and swallow

Take wing for her and follow

Where summer song rings hollow

And flowers are put to scorn.

There go the loves that wither,

The old loves with wearier wings;

And all dead years draw thither,

And all disastrous things;

Dead dreams of days forsaken,

Blind buds that snows have shaken,

Wild leaves that winds have taken,

Red strays of ruined springs.

We are not sure of sorrow,

And joy was never sure;

To-day will die to-morrow;

Time stoops to no man's lure;

And love, grown faint and fretful,

With lips but half regretful

Sighs, and with eyes forgetful

Weeps that no loves endure.

From too much love of living,

From hope and fear set free,

We thank with brief thanksgiving

Whatever gods may be

That no life lives for ever;

That dead men rise up never;

That even the weariest river

Winds somewhere safe to sea.

Then star nor sun shall waken,

Nor any change of light:

Nor sound of waters shaken,

Nor any sound or sight:

Nor wintry leaves nor vernal,

Nor days nor things diurnal;

Only the sleep eternal

In an eternal night.”

—Alergnon Charles Swinburne

#the garden of proserpine #algernon charles swinburne #poem #poetry #words #grief #a series of unfortunate events #asoue #the world is quiet here #i’ll gently rise and softly call goodnight and joy be with you all

[recapitulation]

[ID: a screenshot of the poem "The Garden of Proserpine" by Algernon Charles Swinburne. The 2nd, 4th, and last lines of each stanza are indented. It reads:

"Here, where the world is quiet; / Here, where all trouble seems / Dead winds' and spent waves' riot / In doubtful dreams of dreams; / I watch the green field growing / For reaping folk and sowing, / For harvest-time and mowing, / A sleepy world of streams.

I am tired of tears and laughter, / And men that laugh and weep; / Of what may come hereafter / For men that sow to reap: / I am weary of days and hours, / Blown buds of barren flowers, / Desires and dreams and powers / And everything but sleep.

Here life has death for neighbour, / And far from eye or ear / Wan waves and wet winds labour, / Weak ships and spirits steer; / They drive adrift, and whither / They wot not who make thither; / But no such winds blow hither, / And no such things grow here.

No growth of moor or coppice, / No heather-flower or vine, / But bloomless buds of poppies, / Green grapes of Proserpine, / Pale beds of blowing rushes / Where no leaf blooms or blushes / Save this whereout she crushes / For dead men deadly wine.

Pale, without name or number, / In fruitless fields of corn, / They bow themselves and slumber / All night till light is born; / And like a soul belated, / In hell and heaven unmated, / By cloud and mist abated / Comes out of darkness morn.

Though one were strong as seven, / He too with death shall dwell, / Nor wake with wings in heaven, / Nor weep for pains in hell; / Though one were fair as roses, / His beauty clouds and closes; / And well though love reposes, / In the end it is not well.

Pale, beyond porch and portal, / Crowned with calm leaves, she stands / Who gathers all things mortal / With cold immortal hands; / Her languid lips are sweeter / Than love's who fears to greet her / To men that mix and meet her / From many times and lands.

She waits for each and other, / She waits for all men born; / Forgets the earth her mother, / The life of fruits and corn; / And spring and seed and swallow / Take wing for her and follow / Where summer song rings hollow / And flowers are put to scorn.

There go the loves that wither, / The old loves with wearier wings; / And all dead years draw thither, / And all disastrous things; / Dead dreams of days forsaken, / Blind buds that snows have shaken, / Wild leaves that winds have taken, / Red strays of ruined springs.

We are not sure of sorrow, / And joy was never sure; / To-day will die to-morrow; / Time stoops to no man's lure; / And love, grown faint and fretful, / With lips but half regretful / Sighs, and with eyes forgetful / Weeps that no loves endure.

From too much love of living, / From hope and fear set free, / We thank with brief thanksgiving / Whatever gods may be / That no life lives for ever; / That dead men rise up never; / That even the weariest river / Winds somewhere safe to sea.

Then star nor sun shall waken, / Nor any change of light: / Nor sound of waters shaken, / Nor any sound or sight: / Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, / Nor days nor things diurnal; / Only the sleep eternal / In an eternal night." /end ID]

#safe for work garden of proserpine #this poem is so dear to me....do i fully understand it? no.... i still want to eat it though #poetry #fave #i just love the shape of each stanza. the rhyme repetition. the meter #the 2nd to last stanza gives me literal chills #every so often i have to look it up and reread it to rechage my humanity battery

[pr1ncessm00n]

for sale or wanted • jean kirstein x fem! reader

seven.

series masterlist

prev | next

warnings: cursing, some “friends” (tv show) references, hostility towards reiner >:( and some mentions of a disrespectful relationship. slight ass staring LOL. awkwardness. lots of it. thick tension geesh

*written chapter * THE DATES ARE WRONG. THIS TAKES PLACE IN JANUARY. I REPEAT THE DATES ON THE MESSAGES ARE WRONG I JUST REALIZED. 💔 Proceed.*

[ playlist - more than friends : real life animals ]

“Y/N!” Ymir yelled.

Flinching, Y/N turned to face Ymir, who’s arm was around Historia on the non-Porco couch. That’s what they had coined the couch they actually liked and fit with their theme. Ymir and Historia were currently on it, watching a rerun of Friends. Y/N was making a sandwich. Sasha was snoring loudly on the Porco couch.

“You don’t have to yell,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”

“When’s Kirstein comin’?” Ymir asked.

“I’m not sure,” Y/N responded. “He said around 4.”

“It’s 4:15.” Ymir retorted.

“Your point?” Y/N placed her hand on her hip, butterknife in her hand.

“He’s not coming.” Ymir said smugly. “Typical Kirstein.”

Historia sighed, exasperated. “Just shush Ymir. You haven’t seen Jean in years and you still act rude to him!”

Ymir cackled. “It’s just fun to work you guys up.”

Y/N turned back to making her sandwich. “It’s not like we’re on time for anything either.” She grumbled.

“Defending Kirstein?” Ymir scoffed. “Sounds like you got the hots for him.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Are you 12?” Y/N snapped. “The ‘hots’? Really? Who says that anymore?”

Ymir only cackled in response.

—

Jean clicked his phone off, leaning back in the passenger seat of Reiner’s car.

“Everything good?” Reiner asked.

“Yeah, just Connie and Sasha being aggravating as usual.” Jean explained. Reiner shook his head.

“So this couch, was it really worth it or did you just see a pretty girl and get too embarrassed to say no?” Reiner teased, smirking.

Jean rolled his eyes. “It’s not the best piece of furniture out there but I am, one, BROKE, and two, it was an easy buy.”

Reiner shrugged. “I don’t know, I saw your tweet.”

Jean blushed. “I just tweet my thoughts, we all know that by now.”

Reiner’s smirked deepened. “Not everyday you tweet about a pretty girl.”

It’s not everyday I meet one, Jean thought.

Jean shook his head, looking out the window. He tried to stretch but hit his arms against the truck’s roof. His legs were cramped as well.

“How do you even fit in here?” Jean asked, irritated by the tight fit.

Reiner shrugged. “I’d trade the inconvenience of no leg room for a big pickup bed anyday. It’s useful.”

“Nah, you probably just like to show off your massive truck bed and hope girls find that kinda thing cool.” Jean said.

Reiner laughed. “That too.”

“Has it worked?”

“Nope.” Reiner replied cheerily.

“Is that Becky G!” Jean exclaimed, suddenly hearing the faint sound of “Shower” playing through the truck’s speakers.

“Shit!” Reiner exclaimed, turning red. He quickly rushed to move his hand off the steering wheel and change the song off his phone. Jean continued laughing, the sight of Reiner’s red face, embarrassment clear, only fueling his laughing fit.

“Shut up,” Reiner growled. “It’s a good song.” The thought of the huge guy jamming out to Becky G almost sent him into another fit, but Jean strained to hold it in. The ride remained silent for a few minutes when Reiner spoke again.

“If you ever mention that to anyone, I’ll run you over.” He murmured. Jean chuckled and turned to face Reiner only to see he was being serious, staring intently back at Jean. Jean shut his mouth, nodding.

A few moments after, almost subconsciously, Reiner began to whistle the tune. Jean couldn’t resist the laugh that escaped his throat, earning a dirty look from Reiner.

—

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Coming!” Y/N called, taking her apron off and rushing to the door. She opened the door, smiling.

She was met with Reiner’s face.

“Reiner?” She asked, somewhat in disbelief.

“Y/N, put the butterknife down,” Reiner put his hands up, backing up a few steps.

“What-“ Y/N remembered the butterknife in her hands, clenched tightly now between her knuckles. “Oh, sorry.” She went to put it in the kitchen. “Come in!” She called behind her.

Reiner cautiously stepped inside the dorm, eyeing his surroundings.

“Braun.” Ymir greeted, nodding at him.

“Hey!” Historia waved cheerily. Reiner sheepishly greeted them back.

“Ymir, Historia. Good to see you all again.” He managed to get out awkwardly. He tilted his head curiously, looking at Sasha snoozing on the couch. He gestured to Sasha questioningly at Ymir.

Ymir waved her hand dismissively. “She’ll wake up, just give her a minute.” As if in response, Sasha mumbled in her sleep.

“Um,” he scratched the back of his neck. “Jean’s on a phone call, but he’ll be here soon.”

Jean was on the phone with his mother, who called at that exact moment and decided it was a good time to scold him about not calling for a week and a half. Jean was pacing on the sidewalk, his hand in his hair.

“Oh, okay.” Y/N replied. “Um, so how have you been?” The tension in the air was thick, but since neither Y/N or Reiner were confrontational they didn’t know how to address the mood.

“Good, good.” Reiner nodded. “And you?”

Y/N nodded back. “Good, too.”

The room grew silent.

“I’m sorry, but did someone die?” Ymir blurted.

“Ymir!” Historia gasped, slapping her arm. Ymir removed her hand around Historia and sat forward, opening her hands in a What? gesture.

“Well, it feels like a funeral in here!” Ymir said defensively. “Y/N’s over here glaring at Reiner like he’s an enemy of the state.”

“I am not!” Y/N semi-shouted, her voice shrill. Sasha sat up on the couch.

“Can y’all shut up?” She snapped.

“No!” Ymir and Y/N shouted at her. Sasha groaned, throwing her hand over her forehead and falling back on the couch.

“Look, Y/N,” Reiner started awkwardly. “I don’t mean any harm, and I know it’s weird after everything with Porco... but I just wanted to say that I don’t agree with anything he did. And I wouldn’t have just shown up here if I knew it was your place.”

Y/N uncrossed her arms, trying to fix the visible displeasure in her face. She could not hide her emotions if her life depended on it. There was a few beats of silence before Y/N finally spoke.

“Reiner, I don’t hate you,” She said begrudgingly. “It’s not that, it’s just… You knew what Porco did and said behind my back and you just never told me. I always felt like his friends agreed with him that I was crazy or something.”

“No! Not at all,” Reiner reassured her. “To be honest, I didn’t really know what was going on in his life. I haven’t talked to him much since I left Marley. All I knew was that he was dating you. He just told me you broke up and that’s when he finally told me everything he did. I’m so sorry.” Reiner rambled.

Y/N sighed. “I mean, I’m not going to blame you. It was between Porco and I. But I guess that makes me feel better, like you didn’t betray me.” She chuckled awkwardly.

“No, I’d never stand for the stuff Porco did.” Reiner said.

“Did he cheat?” Sasha whispered to Historia. Historia shushed Sasha, swatting her.

“So we’re good?” Reiner asked. Y/N nodded.

“Sorry for the hostility, I just never expected you to be here.” Y/N admitted.

“No, I get it. But I wish Jean would’ve at least given me a headsup you were Sasha’s room mate.” Reiner muttered.

There was a knock on the door then. “Come in!” Y/N shouted. Jean walked in, peeking his head around the corner to where Y/N was standing in the kitchen with Reiner.

“Hey!” Jean said. He waved at Historia and Ymir. “So I assume you met Reiner?”

“Actually,” Y/N chuckled nervously. “We’ve known each other.”

“Oh!” Jean replied, eyes widening. “Even better! So he’s gonna help me move this thing.” He patted the couch Sasha was snoring on.

Y/N nodded, a tight lipped smile.

“Kirstein,” Ymir called. Jean glanced at her. “Long time no see.”

“Oh yeah! How have you been?” He asked Ymir. “And nice to see you too, Historia.”

Historia waved.

“I’ve been pretty good,” Ymir responded. “But I see you’re still late to everything.”

Jean blushed a deep red, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I got a phone call I had to take.” He looked at the floor, embarrassed. Ymir simply grunted.

“So do you want to start moving it?” Jean asked Reiner.

Reiner nodded, walking over to the couch. The men stared down at Sasha’s sleeping figure, unfazed by the commotion. “Do we wake her?” Reiner questioned.

Jean sighed, shoving Sasha. “Hey. Wake up. Wake up. Wake upppp,” He shook the side or her body with his palm.

Sasha groaned. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.” she grumbled sleepily.

“You and Ymir literally bullied me to get rid of it,” Y/N scoffed.

“I had forgotten how comfy it was!” Sasha protested, turning to the opposite side. “Five more minutes.” Y/N scoffed.

“Do you guys want a sandwich while we wait for Sleeping Beauty?” Y/N offered, tilting her head towards the kitchen with the butterknife.

“More like sleeping ugly.” Ymir snorted.

Y/N and Jean made eye contact.

“You get used to it..” Y/N mouthed. Jean nodded, agreeing.

“I heard that!” Sasha exclaimed to Ymir. “Just for that, I’m gonna fart in your bed.”

Reiner turned a deep red. For someone who liked to listen to 2014 pop, he was pretty bashful.

“I’ll take one, if it’s not too much of a bother,” Jean raised a finger, inquiring.

“No problem! Follow me. And you, Reiner?” Y/N walked back to the kitchen, opening the fridge, Jean a few steps behind her.

“I’ll take one too then, thank you.” Reiner accepted. Y/N nodded, bending over into Jean’s line of sight almost unassumingly. Jean’s eyes widened, before looking the other way, a faint blush appearing on his features. He didn’t want to get caught ogling the girl on their second meeting, possibly giving the impression he was a creep. But damn, was it hard. He felt someone staring at him, and when he focused he realized it was Historia, who was holding back a giggle. He got even more flustered, looking away from her too.

“Any specifics? Mayonnaise, mustard, ketchup? We have pickles and a wide variety of condiments and lunch meats.” Y/N listed.

“Y/N,” Ymir scolded. “Those lunch meats are for the fancy guests!”

Y/N shot her a glare. “Ignore Ymir, she’s just grumpy because she hasn’t been fed her daily sacrifice of small children.” Jean laughed a little too hard while Reiner chuckled. It was hard for Jean to focus when she smelled so good and was at a certain angle.

“Um, lies,” Ymir replied nonchalantly. “Children eating is at 12, it’s 4. That’s the senior citizen buffet.”

“Har, har.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “So what do you guys want?”

“Anything is fine, really,” Jean said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Is ham and muenster cheese good?” Y/N asked, standing upright and grabbing the two containers.

“Monster cheese?” Reiner asked, puzzled.

“M-U-E-nster. It’s so good, try it!” Y/N began to assemble both boys their sandwiches. “I’m gonna give you the works! Lettuce, mayonnaise and tomatoes!”

“Is Y/N making sandwiches?” Sasha asked from the couch, eyes tightly shut.

“Yeah, but don’t get your hopes up. There’s no children flavor.” Ymir mocked.

Y/N flicked her off without turning back.

Sasha bolted off the couch. “Can you make me a sandwich, Y/N? Pleaseeee? Pretty please?” Sasha begged, appearing at Y/N’s side and slightly shoving Jean.

“Yeah, yeah. But I’m not cutting the pickles this time. That’s gross.”

Sasha hummed happily, going to the kitchen to hand Y/N her sandwich components.

“Why don’t you just make your own, Sasha?” Jean asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because!” Sasha exclaimed defensively. “Y/N makes the best ones! They’re so good, and they aren’t lopsided and sloppy like Ymir’s.”

“You could always just starve.”Ymir suggested unhelpfully. She suddenly joined Historia in clapping her hands along to the Friends theme.

“But hello! Cheerio!” Ymir waved frantically to Jean and Reiner. “Don’t y’all got a couch to be moving?”

“Right,” Reiner agreed, walking over to the couch. “Jean, you take that side and we’ll lift it to my truck. Can someone open the door?”

“On it!” Sasha ran over to help.

Jean got on the other side of the couch, and on the count of three him and Reiner lifted it.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Ymir chided. “PIVOT! PIVOT!” she suddenly shrieked, causing Reiner to startle.

“Is she always like that?” He asked, wincing.

“Yes.” Everyone in the room agreed.

As Jean and Reiner moved the couch out of the dorm, Ymir sang the Friends theme song loud enough to be heard from the hallway. Historia harmonized with her happily, leaning into her chest.

Once Reiner and Jean safely secured the couch to Reiner’s truck bed, they returned to the dorm room.

“Yay! It’s gone!” Y/N clapped her hands enthusiastically. “Thanks guys, really.”

“Thank you,” Jean replied. “I really needed a couch.”

“And thank me,” Reiner teased. “For having a truck and upper body strength.”

Y/N laughed. “Here’s your sandwiches, courtesy of Chef Y/N.”

“Five stars!” Sasha banged her first on the table, chewing loudly.

“I put some chips on the side,” Y/N pointed to Jean’s plate. “It just adds that extra flavor.” She admitted almost shyly. Jean’s heart swelled. Why was she acting so.. adorable? There was just no other word for it. It wasn’t a big deal. His friends often acted adorable. Armin, Connie, even Sasha. Eren… On second thought, not Eren.

“Thanks! I love chips!” Jean said. Y/N laughed again, the corners of her eyes crinkling, shaking her head a bit. Even Reiner chuckled.

“Great commentary,” He said, patting Jean on the back with a large hand. “Thanks, Y/N.” He made his way to the couch, where Historia scooted to make room for him, smiling brightly.

“Don’t even try anything,” Ymir warned, holding up a finger to Reiner and giving him a death stare. Reiner shook his head, eyes widened in fear. Ymir borderline barked.

“You can sit!” Y/N motioned to the small breakfast table Sasha was devouring her sandwich at.

Jean quickly glanced at the table, then at Y/N leaning against the counter. “Nah, I’m good here.” He took a bite out of his sandwich.

“Ugh, that’s so barbaric,” Y/N scoffed. “Eating standing up.”

Jean nearly choked on the bite of sandwich. “Weren’t you just thanking me for buying your ugly couch?” He sassed.

Y/N rasied her eyebrows. “Um, you should be thanking me and my ugly couch for saving you from sitting on the floor. Why’d you even buy one if you just eat standing up? You animal.” Jean shook his head, trying to contain his smile.

“That’s rude.” He stated simply.

Y/N punched his shoulder jokingly. “You can handle it.”

Jean shrugged. “I don’t know. I might just cry myself to sleep every night. Who knows how long the guilt will eat you alive for.” He said in a fake menacing tone.

“Oooh, I’m terrified.” Y/N waved her hands.

“For good reason. I’d be a pretty annoying guilt trip.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Y/N agreed. His voice is so deep, Y/N thought.

Sasha stared at them blankly, head on her hand, mouth partially open.

“Uh…”

“Sasha,” Jean rolled his eyes. “Close your mouth, I can literally see the chips.”

Like a fish, Sasha’s mouth closed with a wet sound. She finished chomping and swallowed before getting up.

“You guys are weird.” She said, walking to the couch as well.

Jean and Y/N watched her go, attempting to fit on the medium sized sofa.

“I think we might need another couch.” Y/N commented, watching Sasha try to shove Reiner off her usual seating spot.

“No take backsies,” Jean smirked, looking at her.

“I sold it for a reason, whatever your last name is.” Y/N crossed her arms.

Jean guffawed. “Like you don’t know my last name.”

“I don’t! It’s pretentious.” Y/N insisted.

“Uh, huh.” Jean replied, not believing it, more so hoping it was just a joke. “It’s Kirstein.” He said instead, opting to not find out the hard way.

“I was right, it is pretentious. All fancy soundin’.” Y/N shuddered.

“It is not!” Jean argued.

“Whatever. Do you know mine?”

“Duh,” Jean mocked, staring at Y/N and placing his empty plate on the counter.

“Then what is it?” Y/N shot back, staring just as intently.

“It’s uh- It’s um,” Jean drew a blank. He stuttered, trying to recall the memory.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh.”

Jean waved his hand dismissively. “It’s probably just basic.”

“Sure, Kirstein,” Y/N dragged out the syllables. “It’s L/N, if you must know.”

“L/N.” Jean repeated. “Nice to meet you.” He stuck his hand out.

“You’re not gonna freeze up now?”

“Very funny. You totally froze up first.”

“You looked like a deer in headlights.”

Jean shook his head, checking his watch. It was 5:15. Connie would be home soon, hungry. “I should head out, I got a lot of stuff to do.”

“More interesting than couch transporting?” Y/N picked up Jean’s plate, moving it to the sink.

“If you can believe it, yeah.” Jean chuckled. “But hey, thank you. It was pretty good.”

“The sandwich or the couch?” Y/N teased.

“Both.”

“Probably the sandwich.” Y/N said.

“Probably.” Jean agreed. “You ready to go?” He asked Reiner. Reiner nodded, getting up from the couch. Sasha scrambled to her feet off the floor to take his spot.

“Bye, everyone,” Reiner waved. “Thanks for the food, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome! Hope you enjoyed it.” Y/N waved.

“And um,” He stepped closer to Y/N, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry about earlier. If you ever want to um, talk about it,” Reiner ran a hand through his hair. “Just text me.”

Y/N grew stiff. Plastering a fake smile on her face, she just nodded. “Thanks, Reiner. I’m okay though.”

Reiner nodded. “I’ll see you outside, I’m gonna start the truck.” Reiner told Jean. He walked out, keys jangling, and shut the door gently. Jean stared at Y/N quizzically. He decided it was best not to ask, not wanting to come off as nosy or creepy. But Y/N could tell he was curious. She figured Reiner would explain and grew flustered just thinking about the humiliation of Jean knowing what Reiner knew. She preferred to leave that to Reiner and Jean to talk about.

“So I’ll see you around?” Jean asked, making his way to the door. Before Y/N could respond, Historia piped up.

“Wait, Jean!” She walked over to the breakfast table, digging into her pink Coach shoulderbag. “Here!” She produced a small pink invite, extending it to Jean.

HISTORIA’S 21ST BDAY BASH <33

Jan. 15 @ 8 PM @ Reiss Estate

2000’s THEMED

wear ur best y2k attire!

can’t w8 to see u there ;)

<3

Jean raised an eyebrow, flipping the card to the back. It was a pic of Historia as a kid, wearing a hot pink feather boa with a pink plastic cellphone against her ear. She looked more or less the same, only more subtler. The girl did like pink.

“You should totally come! Connie’s also invited, and Eren is coming with Mikasa! It’ll be so fun, I hope to see you there.”

“Thanks!” Jean replied, glancing at Y/N. “I’ll be there. Bye guys!” A chorus of “bye!”s ensued. He stepped out the door. 

Outside the dorm, he let out a sigh of relief. Historia’s birthday bash. Another opportunity to see Y/N.

Inside the dorm, Ymir glared at Historia. “Why’d you invite him, babe?” She whined, pouting like a child.

“Many reasons,” Historia began, walking over and sitting on her lap. “One, to spite you. Two, he’s nice! Three, I can’t invite all of his friends and not him. That’s rude. And four, for Y/N.” Sasha and Ymir looked at Y/N.

Y/N’s mouth dropped. “Um, what? I didn’t say anything!”

“Oh, please,” Ymir rolled her eyes in disbelief. “We all saw you canoodling.”

“No, we weren’t.” Y/N grumbled, washing the dishes.”

Historia giggled. “It’s okay, Y/N. You can just talk to Jean at my party.”

Y/N shrugged. “Maybe.”

Pulling out her phone, Y/N found herself re-reading her and Jean’s messages. Not really knowing why, she decided to save his contact.

Just incase, Y/N thought.

—

Later that night, Y/N’s phone dinged.

—

Meanwhile:

—

a/n: hey guys!! i’m sorry for the late update but I made this chapter extra long to make up for it :D so i saw this post and it was like “fanfic authors be going thru the most traumatic shit and then come back like nothing happened with a 6k word count chapter” and LET ME TELL YOU, that is my life. Rn nothing traumatic is happening but man it’s like this fic WANTS to be delayed lol. So i broke my thumbnail and i could NOT type for a few days without excruciating pain!! then i was busy into the night time which is my usual writing time. now i am sick with a fever, sore throat and a stuffy nose!! but i’m here, hopefully i won’t be sick for my graduation lol cus then i won’t be able to go. i hope y’all enjoyed this and ahh i felt so bad being mean to reiner but i feel like this was necessary for the porco plot to develop haha. also this is not proofread it’s 2am and i literally suck at writing first meetings/conversations. can you tell this was rushed lmaoooo. there was a lot more i was going to say but i forgot omfg so tune in to the next chapter!! love you all xx

btw i literally do not know how to do that “keep reading” tab thing where it cuts off your writing so it isn’t one big post so can someone please teach me :)

taglist: @usernamehere91 @calumsfringe @tsunderehokage

#aot headcanons #aot imagines #attack on titan x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirstein smau #jean kirstein x reader #jean x reader #shingeki no kyojin #aot #jean kirchstein headcanons #jean kirschtein scenarios #jean kirschtein #jean x female reader #aot anime #aot fanfiction #aot smau #aot x reader #jean aot #attack on titan social media au #attack on titan #snk smau #snk x reader #snk jean #snk jean kirstein

[queen18xo]

I Brought The God Of War To His Knees (With The Back Of My Hand Wiped The Blood From My Cheek) - Geralt & Jaskier

Geralt breezes into the Lettenhove estate, Roach, his mare trotting happily alongside him as they make their way across the pretentious stone courtyard the ample, open space surrounding the sizeable estate. Lining the dreary grey stone pathway is a trail of vibrant flowers bedded in healthy mounds of grass. The wide array of colourful flowers adding a much-needed boost of life to the otherwise severe-looking estate.

Geralt winces as the loud screech of the large doors leading into the estate swing open, a stocky man hurrying out of the doors, his arms stretched wide in a welcoming gesture. "White Wolf, we are honoured and humbled by your presence here at the Lettenhove estate", the man greets loudly, his sharp, overly polite voice grating on Geralts thin patience. "Please allow our stable boy to tend to your horse while we relocate to the meeting room", the count drones on, his eyes darting sharply to a raggedly dressed boy, shifting nervously beside them.

"Yes, master witcher, it would be an honour to tend to your mare", the boy voices shakily, his eyes downcast as he carefully approaches. Geralt bites back a wince, the sour scent of the boys fear assaulting his nose as he roughly extends Roach's reins to the stable boy, parting ways with a sharp grunt of thanks.

Geralt idly trails behind the count, his observant eyes drinking in his surroundings as he's led down twisted, barren halls, the estate appearing lifeless and cold as the stocky man steers him towards the meeting room.

The count pushes into a room, its doors tucked into a small alcove that veers off from the corridor; he settles himself comfortably against the edge of the desk, his arms folded over his chest as he waits for Geralt to enter the room. "If you could shut the doors, please, I'd prefer it if we weren't overheard", the count urges cordially. Geralt bites back an amused chuckle as he pushes the doors closed, his golden gaze catching on a striking pair of curious cornflower blue eyes as the small gap closes.

Geralt turns to face the count, leaning back against the far wall, his corded arms folding across his impressive chest as he raises an expectant brow. "I assume you know why I'm here?" Geralt grunts, his voice a deep threatening rumble as he addresses the count, purposefully skipping the pleasantries.

Geralts eyes flicker to the doors, his heightened hearing easily catching the stuttered heartbeat muffled behind the large doors. The count squares his shoulders, the subtle movement recapturing Geralts attention as the wolf refocuses on the count with a stern glare. "I do not have your payment witcher, but I do have something far better to offer", the count gloats, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. Geralt sighs inwardly, fighting the urge to rub his temples in frustration as dread settles heavily in his gut.

The dread curling in his stomach intensifies as a soft rap of knuckles against the door echos through the room, the quiet sound drawing the gaze of both men. "You may enter, Julian", the count snaps harshly, barely concealed disgust marring his features as he urges the guest to enter.

The doors clatter open loudly, the sharp sound earning a wince from Geralt as a lanky brunette stumbles clumsily into the room, the boy wincing sympathetically as he hurries to the count's side, briefly casting a curious glance to where Geralts perched menacingly against the wall.

"You called for me, father," the boy rushes out, panting heavily as he bows his head politely in greeting. A delicate flush colours his cheeks as his downcast eyes flicker to meet Geralts before he inclines his head courteously, acknowledging the witchers presence.

"Do not address me that way, boy", the count reprimands harshly, his face twisted into an ugly grimace. The boy flinches violently, instinctively curling away from the man as he raises his hand to strike the boy.

Geralt growls lowly, the dangerous sound rumbling from his chest, drawing the angry count's attention away from the cowering boy and back to himself. A pair of wet cornflower blue eyes blink up at him, the boy's soft pink lips curling up into a faint, grateful smile as Geralts gaze briefly flickers to him. Geralt quickly directs his attention back to the count, the boy's soft expression causing an unwelcome warmth to unfurl in his chest.

"I do not have the means to pay you witcher, but you may take the boy", the count offers, gesturing lazily to the boy cowering at his side. The urge to deny the counts offer and claim his territory as payment on the tip of his tongue, but a glimpse of the boy's trembling frame has the response dying on his tongue.

"Fuck", Geralt curses quietly, his lips curling into a menacing scowl as his eyes rove over the boy's slender frame before snapping to the counts, meeting his smut gaze with a furious glare. Geralt releases a resigned sigh as he pushes himself from the wall. "I will take the boy", Geralt grumbles unhappily.

"No - you wouldn't-" Julian stutters out in frantic protest, his pleading blue eyes snapping to his father, the count blatantly ignoring the boys desperate pleading as he keeps his gaze resolutely trained on Geralt.

"Enough-" the count snaps impatiently, effectively silencing the boys shaky protests. "You'll go with the witcher, and ill hear no more of it-" the count seethes, his fat fingers twisting roughly into the boy's hair as he pushes him forward, the boy's delicate features twisting into a pained grimace as he's shoved towards Geralt.

"But mother-" Julian tries, his eyes shining wetly as they flick between his father's stocky build and Geralts imposing frame before dropping to the ground as he fights against the tears burning his eyes.

"Your mother is gone, Julian!" The count screeches his chest, heaving angrily. "Get out of my sight, you pathetic child", the count snarls, the stinging slap of his palm connecting harshly with the boys soft cheek echoing loudly in Geralts sensitive ears.

The boy's small hands snap up to shakily cup the angry red welt forming across his pale cheek, the delicate flesh throbbing violently, his bright blue eyes shining with shame as he bows his head apologetically to the witcher. "May I get my things?" Julian breathes out tentatively, his voice barely more than a whisper as he cautiously addresses Geralt.

"You may", Geralt permits gruffly, his golden eyes following the boy as he rushes from the room, the salty tang of tears permeating the air; the boys chocked breaths loud in Geralts ears as he flees. "I will take the boy in place of your payment this time", Geralts confirms angrily, towering menacingly over the stocky count, his golden eyes glinting dangerously. "Pull something like this again, and you'll be cut down where you're stood", Geralt threatens, his sharp teeth bared dangerously.

"Sorry", Julian apologises as he stumbles back into the room, carefully observing the tension riddled confrontation between Geralt and the count before averting his gaze and bowing his head submissively. Geralts eyes drop to the bag slung over the boy's shoulder, the bag near bursting where it rests. The witcher quirks a brow expecting the lithe boy to struggle with the weight, but he holds the undoubtedly heavy bag with no complaints.

"Does he have a horse?" Geralt voices questioningly, his assessing gaze flicking over the boy's delicate appearance.

"I can answer for myself," Julian huffs impatiently, his heart stuttering beneath his ribs, a bright flush colouring his cheeks as the witchers heavy gaze falls to him, causing him to shift nervously.

Geralt gives the boy a short nod, the hint of a smile curling at his lips, impressed with the boy's courage and distinct lack of fear. "Well, answer then," Geralt prompts roughly, eyeing the boy curiously, his eyes briefly catching on the angry welt marring his delicate cheek.

"Right - yes", the boy stutters out apologetically, his cheeks flushing as his bright eyes drop from Geralts as he stumbles over his words, his flush darkening as the count huffs impatiently behind him. Geralt quirks a brow at the boy, his golden iris' alight with amusement. "I do - have a horse that is, Pegasus, a truly beautiful mare", Julian elaborates, words spilling from his lips unbidden, his eyes widening at his own nervous spiel.

Geralt offers the boy a short nod, a faint smile on his lips. "We'll be leaving then", Geralt rumbles, sparing the count a brief nod as he stalks out of the room; the distinct lack of footfalls behind him has him turning back, casting a glance behind himself, catching the sight of Julian frozen in front of his father.

Geralt watches curiously as the boys face shutters, a dark gleam clouding his bright eyes as his bag drops from his shoulder with a dull thumb; Geralt takes a cautious step forward, careful not to crowd the pair. "You're a vile old man, and I hope you rot", Julian spits, his venomous tone catching the witcher by surprise as he stands protectively behind the boy. Geralts eyes widen, his brows arching into his hairline as Julian's arm coils back before connecting with the counts jaw roughly, a sickening crack briefly breaking the tense silence.

A low growl forms in Geralts chest as the count readies to retaliate; Geralt strides across the room, capturing the mans curled fist before it can connect. "I wouldn't if I were you", Geralt warns darkly; he drops his gaze to Julian, the boy's awe-filled eyes blinking up at him from beneath a thick fan of lashes. "Go ready your horse", Geralt demands, watching as the boy reluctantly retreats, continuously glancing back as he disappears from the room.

The count breathes out harshly as Geralt's large hand tightens around his balled fist, the small bones groaning in protest, before the witcher ducks down, collecting Julian's bag and swiftly leaving, a mean smile curling at his lips as he hears the count hissing in pain behind him.

Geralt bursts out of the estate, a furious gleam burning in his golden eyes as he approaches the stable. His ire easing slightly as he approaches Julian, his slender frame bracketed by his mare and Roach, the boy softly murmuring to the two as he cards dainty hands through their manes.

"Ready?" Geralt rumbles impatiently, barely waiting for the boy's stilted nod of agreement before his large hands curl around the boy's slim waist drawing a shocked gasp from Julian's lips. Geralts grip tightens instinctively, his eyes falling to meet Julian's wide-eyed gaze as he easily hefts him into the saddle before securing his overstuffed bag to the mare.

"Thank you", Julian voices quietly, his bright eyes shining with gratitude as he thanks the witcher, earning a grunt of acknowledgement in response as Geralt hoists himself into Roach's saddle.

"Keep up", Geralt grunts, sparing the boy a brief glance before setting Roach off at a fast-paced trot, Pegasus quickly falling in line behind the older mare as Julian expertly guides her. The wolf releases a sigh of relief as they escape through the gates, distancing themselves from the estate's oppressive clutches.

Not long into their journey, Geralts observant eyes spot an ideal clearing to set up camp, the spot hidden from view by thick foliage. He pulls Roach to a sudden stop, eyeing Julian with an impressed gleam in his eyes as the boy swiftly pulls his own mare to an effortless stop beside Roach.

He casts a curious glance over to Geralt as he softly cards agile fingers through Pegasus' man. "We'll stop here for the night; it'll be dark soon", Geralt rumbles in explanation as he moves to stand beside Julian. He reaches out, his strong hands gripping the boy's hips, Julian's dainty fingers instinctively curling over his broad shoulders as the wolf carefully lifts him from the saddle and places him on the floor.

Julian blinks up at him through a dark fan of lashes, his erratic heartbeat loud in Geralts ears as the boy looks up at him, but his scent is clear of the sharp tang of fear or anxiety. Geralt looks down at him questioningly as a dark flush colours the boy's cheeks, his golden gaze briefly catching on the angry outline of the count's palm. The wolf reaches out instinctively, the rough pad of his thumb grazing the angry welt, the action pulling a sharp hiss from the boy's lips. Geralts eyes darken with guilt as he takes a hurried step away from Julian, the movement borderline clumsy as he retreats.

"Put your stuff over there - I'll go collect firewood", Geralt rumbles, gesturing vaguely towards the large clearing behind himself before he's turning on his heel and disappearing into the thick forest bordering the clearing.

Julian sighs dejectedly before leading the two mares towards the clearing and allowing them to graze as he gets to work on removing their saddles and tending to them. He methodically works his way through a mental checklist; he starts by detaching their saddlebags, placing Geralts against a tree as he fights the pressing urge to root through the witchers belongings.

He moves onto Pegasus, leaving his solitary bag leant haphazardly beside Geralt's belongings; he unzips a small compartment in his bag, pulling from it Pegaus' favoured brush, and breezes past Pegasus, earning himself an unimpressed nicker from the mare. "Sorry girl, I'll brush you next, okay - promise," he murmurs quietly to the mare before making his way over to Roach, where the horse is grazing happily.

"Hello girl, unfortunately, the witcher didn't tell me your name", Julian huffs, earning a soft nicker from the mare as he gently cards his fingers through her mane, untangling a few stubborn knots from the deep caramel hairs.

"Her names Roach" Geralt voices as he breaks through the trees, his eyes dropping to Julian's dainty hands as they work the knots from Roach's mane with well-practised ease.

"don't do that", Julian exclaims, his hand flying to his chest as he startles, the brush slipping from his grip with a barely audible thud. "I'm only twenty. That is far too young for a heart attack, dear witcher", Julain huffs fondly, rolling his eyes as he collects the brush.

"I didn't intend to startle you", Geralt voices awkwardly, his eyes flicking to where his belongings are carefully perched against a tree. "You didn't have to do that", Geralt mumbles, his eyes flickering between his belongings and Roach before settling on Julian, the boy gazing up at him with a fond smile.

"No, I suppose I didn't", Julian hums, smiling softly before returning to his previous task. Geralt starts working on a fire, darkness slowly beginning to creep in as Julian idly tends to the mares, his gaze occasionally falling to the witcher as the man prepares dinner.

Julian sighs tiredly before perching across from Geralt, the blazing fire roaring between them as Geralt idly fiddles with a well-crafted dagger, his eyes briefly flickering to meet Julians before falling to their meal slowly roasting over the fire.

Geralt handles the blade with ease, expertly flicking the dagger from hand to hand, his heavy gaze falling to Julian. He watches as the boy's eyes follow every subtle twitch of his hands as the dagger glides between them.

Geralt hums consideringly, propelling the dagger towards Julian, the sound punctuated by the deadly hiss of the blade as it slices through the air. Julian's sharp eyes widen, his dainty hand easily curling around the hilt as he expertly snatches the blade from the air. He holds the flesh warmed hilt in his hand, his wide eyes flicking between Geralt and the dagger nestled in his palm.

"Impressive", Geralt hums, a faint smile curling at his lips ", who taught you that trick, little prince" Geralt teases softly, a smirk forming on his lips as the boy scoffs indignantly, his iris' darkening with challenge.

"I'm a viscount-"

"Not anymore, you're not", Geralt rumbles, swiftly cutting the boy off.

"Yes, I suppose you're right", Julian sighs dejectedly, his gaze falling from Geralts as he idly twists the dagger's hilt in his hold, his eyes tracing the beautiful detailing adorning to rich leather.

Regret curls in Geralt gut as the delicate boys features form a frown, his fingertips carefully dancing across the blades sharpened edge.

"If you can use it, you can keep it", Geralt rumbles, his deep voice loud in the heavy silence settled between them. Julian's wide-eyed gaze snaps to Geralt, eyeing the man curiously as he mulls his words over thoughtfully.

"You wish for me to fight you?" Julian questions hesitantly, his nervous blue eyes flicking searchingly between Geralts golden iris' as the blade carefully held in his palm.

Geralt stands from the floor, moving himself a safe distance from the fire, idly dusting himself off as the boy nervously pulls himself to his feet. "I won't hurt you", Geralt assures the boy noticing his hesitancy.

"And if I hurt you, witcher?" Julian asks as he moves to stand before the man, quirking a questing brow.

Geralt scoffs, an amused smile dancing across his usually impassive features as he regards the boy's slight frame. "You couldn't", Geralt chuckles, his golden eyes filled with warmth as they meet Julians.

"Do not underestimate me, wolf", Julian warns, his voice holding a dangerous edge to it. Geralt tilts his head questioningly, his steady gaze locked with Julians, "Your medallion" Julian responds to the man's non-verbal question, his sharp eyes darting to the silver medallion hanging from his neck, the bright silver standing out starkly against the witcher's black armour.

"Geralt", He huffs out, a faint frown tugging at his lips as he waits for the boy's expression to darken, the connotations attached to his name far from pleasant.

"Not just any wolf witcher then", Julian murmurs but remains non plussed by the confession, as Geralt eyes him sceptically. "You wish to spar then, white wolf?" Julian questions, his eyes glinting dangerously, his heart thumping heavily behind his ribs as he carefully advances on the wolf.

Geralt smirks, rolling his eyes fondly as he retrieves a hidden dagger from a sheath that clings to the corded muscle of his thigh; Julian's gaze follows the movement, his eyes darkening as they catch on the thick muscle. Geralt's golden eyes darken in response as the boys heavy gaze meets his, the heady scent of Julian's lust thick in the air between them as they lazily circle each other.

Julian's tongue darts out, swiping across his chapped lips, a flush colouring his cheeks as he holds Geralt's knowing gaze. "As you wish-" Julian pauses, sucking in a deep, steadying breath. "Geralt", he breathes out a subtle shake to his melodic voice as the man's name falls from his lips.

Geralt releases a sharp exhale, his name on Julian's lips sounding unreasonably sinful. "You attack, I'll block", Geralt instructs, his voice dropping an octave as the dagger dances expertly in his hand as he adjusts to its light weight in his large, sword calloused palm.

Julian sucks in a shaky breath as he lowers his stance for better balance, his pants constricting tightly around his supple thighs, the material stretching to allow him more mobility than his formal wear typically would. Julian strikes out with fluid motion; his dagger brandished as an extension of himself, the speed and elegance of his strike momentarily startling Geralt.

The witcher easily deflects, the sharp clang of their clashing blades ringing out loudly in the small clearing as dusk settles around them. "Not bad", Geralt praises roughly, slowly circling the boy, his sharp eyes tracking Julian's sleek movements, his body moving with a fluidity the witcher hadn't expected from the boy.

Julian spins on his heels, lunging towards the witcher, his blade thrust forward towards the man's sternum. Geralt catches his forearm swiftly, effortlessly twirling the boy, tugging his slender frame flush to his chest roughly. "Your footing could use some work", Geralt teases, his voice a deep rumble that vibrates through Julian's frame, his breath hot against the shell of Julian's ear, eliciting a shiver from the dainty boy.

"Is that so witcher" Julian growls lowly, his ankle sweeping out to curl around Geralts calf as his elbow swiftly connects with the man's muscular stomach causing him to stumble back a step. Geralts dagger falls from his slick grip, clattering to the floor in his momentary surprise; Julian drops his blade alongside the witchers, the two laying side by side like a matching pair. Julian advances on the witcher with sure steps, the wolf's lips curling into a slow smirk as the boy approaches.

Julian strikes with a tightly curled fist; the witcher easily deflects the boys surprisingly powerful strike with his muscular forearm, the boys face furrowed in concentration. Julian brings a knee up, Geralt swiftly knocking it aside with a corded thigh, his pants clinging to the bulging muscle as it tenses. He curls a strong arm around Julian's dainty waist as the boy stumbles, losing his balance; Geralt carefully tumbles them to the ground. The witcher easily twisting their bodies, so Julian's slender frame lands atop his, Geralts muscular form protecting him from the harsh ground.

Julian lands against Geralt's powerful frame with a heavy thud, his chest heaving as he pants heavily against the man, his breaths puffing hotly against Geralts cheek as he catches his breath.

Julian pushes himself up, bracing himself on his forearms as he hovers above the witcher, his bright eyes blinking down at the man laid beneath. He slowly presses closer, his dainty frame flush against Geralts, the wolf's warm breaths ghosting across his lips as he tentatively closes the distance between them. Julian's heart thunders in his chest as his blue eyes flicker between Geralts golden gaze and his full lips.

The witcher stiffens beneath him as he reluctantly turns his head away from the boy. "You don't want to do that, kid", Geralt mumbles warningly, screwing his eyes shut to avoid Julians searching gaze.

"I'm old enough to decide what I want for myself", Julian voices quietly, his voice shaking as he responds.

"Julian-"

"No stop- I may not be some ancient, all-knowing witcher, but I am old enough to make my own damn decisions." Julian snaps defensively, his dainty hands pressing firmly to Geralts muscular chest, holding the man against the floor as he glares down at the witcher.

"I am 80 years your senior kid; trust me, you don't want this", Geralt grumbles. He turns to face the boy, his gaze falling to the soft pout of Julian's plump lips unbidden, his fingers itching with the desire to engulf his hips and draw his delicate frame closer.

"Yet you still want me", Julian whispers, his voice loud in the charged air swirling between them. Julian's lips curl up into a sinful smirk as he pushes into Geralts space, his eyes dropping to Geralts parted lips, as the witcher gazes up at him slack-jawed, sharp huffs of breath tumbling from his parted lips.

"This isn't right", Geralt argues; he pushes the boy away carefully before quickly scrambling away from the tempting boy, easily pushing himself onto his feet. Julian sits blinking up at him dazedly from his ungainly sprawl on the grassy floor.

Julian follows in Geralts steed, clumsily pushing himself to stand, brushing the dirt from his drab attire, his blue iris' burning bright with frustration as he levels the witcher with a cold glare. "Why? Why isn't it?" Julian barks, his shaking hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

"You're a child! You don't know what you want, and it sure as hell wouldn't be a-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Geralt", Julian warns, exhaling a sharp breath as he screws his eyes shut. He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger before his eyelids flutter open, his fiery blue eyes connecting with Geralts.

"Why can't handle the truth, little prince?" Geralt taunts meanly, his lips curling up into a dangerous snarl, his sharp teeth glinting in the soft glow of firelight. "I'm a monster, a mutant, a warlord", Geralt seethes, pushing into Julian space abruptly.

Julan reaches out instinctively, his palm tenderly curling around the man's cheek. "You don't believe that", Julian gasps out brokenly, his delicate features twisted with sadness. Geralt screws his eyes shut against the barrage of emotions as he gently nuzzles into the boy's palm relishing in the warm comfort. "Please, Geralt - please tell me you don't believe that", Julian chokes out, his soft voice cracking with emotion.

Geralts golden eyes flutter open, his gaze meeting Julains bright eyes, his blue eyes shining wetly as he holds the witchers gaze. "I'm not a good man Julian, I'm barely a man at all", Geralt confesses quietly, reluctantly pulling himself from Julians hold, his thumb tenderly brushing along the boy's soft cheek before he turns away.

Julian growls lowly as he reaches out, tangling his agile fingers in Geralt's long white hair, tugging the strands roughly as he urges the man to face him, the action drawing a strangled groan from the witcher. "You are more of a man than most dear wolf", Julian confesses softly, a haunted look flickering in his bright eyes.

Julian presses closer, his tantalising scent almost suffocating as he crowds into Geralt's space, his striking blue eyes peering up at Geralt through a thick fan of dark lashes. "I want you witcher", Julian admits quietly.

"Hmm - that's a dangerous thing to say", Geralt growls, his fingertips pressing firmly to the delicate curve of Julian waist. He presses the boy back, his slim frame colliding roughly with the firm bark of a tree, Geralts large frame pressing flush against him. "Are you really that stupid?" Geralt questions lowly, his fingertips pressing bruises into the soft flesh of Julian's hips, pulling a broken whine from the boy's plump lips.

"I guess I am" Julian smiles softly, his doe eyes blinking up at Geralt, his lashes fluttering shut lazily as he tips his head back against the tree, baring the tempting expanse of his pale throat to the wolf in a submissive gesture.

"Don't-" Geralt chokes out on a ragged breath, tearing himself away from the boy, ripping his hungry gaze from the exposed flesh of his throat to the vibrant grass glimmering under the soft moonlight illuminating the clearing. Geralt sucks in a sharp breath, regaining his tenuous grip on his fraying control, the fire dancing in his golden eyes as he meets Julian's gaze.

Julian leans back against the tree, his chest heaving as he pants heavily, the picture of debauchery, his pink lips parted around ragged breaths, his cheeks flushed, and eyes dazed as he meets the witchers intense gaze. "We'll be leaving at dawn - eat something and get some rest", Geralt instructs firmly. He reluctantly turns away from the tempting sight as he places a careful distance between them, turning his back to the boy as he settles beside the fire and begins the arduous task of sharpening his swords.

He hears the stilted shuffling of material as Julian slips into his bedroll, the boys heavy gaze hot against his back. "Goodnight, Geralt", Julian breathes out quietly.

"Goodnight, Julian", Geralt sighs softly, his head bowed over his swords. He hears Julian's heart audibly stuttering his chest, causing the witcher to instinctively turn to face the boy curled in his bedroll, meeting a pair of heavy-lidded blue eyes.

"Jaskier", Julian mumbles, "I prefer Jaskier", he confesses sheepishly, his tired eyes fluttering shut.

"Goodnight, Jaskier", Geralt breathes out, his chest constricting uncomfortably as he watches the boys features slacken with sleep. His heart racing in an unfamiliar way as he familiarises himself with the boy's soft features.

#geraskier fanfiction #geraskier #warlord geralt #bamf jaskier

[melzula]

hiiii alright so can u get a lin beifong x daughter reader where lin finally lets her go on a mission by herself but she gets hurt real bad? i just need angst rn sry,, i absolutely adore ur writing btw!

a/n: more mama bear Lin

~ based off of these hc’s ~

The once lively chatter is now nothing but complete silence as Lin enters the room, eyes narrowed suspiciously at the rapid beating of everyone’s hearts and their refusal to meet her eyes. She was used to people being intimidated by her, but this was something entirely new.

“What’s going on here?” She demands, and with a harsh swallow one of the rookie cops from the back answers feebly.

“There was an accident chief. Something went wrong on the Agni Kai case.”

Lin’s blood runs cold at the mention of the very case her daughter was working on as she notices Mako is nowhere to be found, and before anyone can stop her she’s sprinting out of the office and making her way to Air Temple Island. Though you have your differences, she knows you like the back of her hand, and she knows Tenzin is the first person you’d go to in order to avoid your mother’s wrath. But this was more than that, because all she could feel was worry and fear, and for the first time in her whole life she actually hoped you were there. Because at least you’d be in good hands, and at least it meant your boyfriend was smart enough to take you to the one place where you’d actually have a shot of pulling through whatever terrible thing you’d endured.

Mako is the first person she sees upon her arrival, his figure rising quickly from the front steps and his body attempting to block her from the entrance.

“Chief Beifong, you don’t want to go in there,” he warns.

“I don’t know who you think you are, rookie-“

“You don’t want to see it!” He tries to argue only for her to uproot the ground from underneath him and send Mako flying through the air and away from the exit.

“You are not going to stop me from seeing my daughter!” She says fiercely before marching inside. Those who remain inside steer clear of her path as she stomps through the halls, tears kept at bay because Beifongs are strong and they don’t cry, not in front of other people. No one is around and no one is there to stop her as she barges into the final room down the hall, and the sight before her has her sick to her stomach.

You lie underneath the sheets of the small bed, eyes shut and skin paler than normal. Your breathing is steady but low and faint, and Lin nearly sinks to her knees at the sight. You’d always been so strong and loud, never afraid to voice your opinions and always ready to put up a fight, so seeing you so stiff and lifeless was like a straight punch to the gut.

“I told you not to go after them,” she murmurs faintly. “I told you not to get yourself mixed up in things that aren’t any of your business, but what did you do? Chase after a gang that’s been around longer than you have. For once in your life, why couldn’t you have just listened?!”

Her shout seems to echo through the empty room, bouncing off the walls and reverberating back into her chest until all becomes too much. Her bottom lip begins to quiver and Lin breaks down into tears. She allows herself a moment of weakness and, for the first time in a long time, leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. They aren’t going to get away with this, no one hurts Lin Beifong’s little girl and gets away with it.

Mako is back on the steps when Lin returns and immediately rises to his feet at the sight of the woman. “Chief-“

“Keep an eye on my daughter. If anything happens to her on your watch you’re fired,” she orders.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“To find the men responsible for hurting my daughter,” Lin says gruffly, and before Mako can even try to stop her the woman is marching past him. She’s a woman on the war path and thirsty for revenge, and she won’t stop until justice has been served.

No one hurts y/n Beifong, not on Lin’s watch.

#i’ll come back and put the keep reading option later when i have my computer #lin beifong #lin beifong x reader #lin beifong x daughter!reader #lin beifong imagine #mako #mako x reader #mako x beifong!reader #mako imagine #the legend of korra #lok #lok x reader #lok imagine #request

[hoaryoldbitch]

claim

Jonsa Drabbles Day 2 Fireworks @jonsadungeonsanddrabbles​

Inspired by the following prompt:

Rhaegar's seven wives:

Elia Martell

Cersei Lannister

Lyanna Stark

Lysa Tully

Alynne Connington

Myranda Royce

Margaery Tyrell

***

A long time ago, Sansa had dreamed of wearing gowns such as the one the Dragon King's servants had put her in before she was brought to the Dragonpit. Now all she wants is to tear the fine white silk from her body, rip it apart with her teeth. She's always considered herself the least wolfish out of all of her siblings, but today she wishes she were a wolf, so she could fight her way out of this place. Perhaps it is only her fear talking.

She is led onto a small circular platform, and for a while nothing happens. A group of singers and musicians enters the scene and start performing a song in Valyrian. The people who are gathered in the dragonpit all listen in silence, and Sansa decides to watch the Dragon Lords on the gallery as she awaits her fate.

The Dragon King is sat on a gilded throne. Sansa thinks he looks rather slight and unimpressive under all his finery, though his face holds a serene and indifferent beauty, almost as if it was cut from marble rather than being a face that belongs to a real person. His silver hair is longer than most of the women's around him and it billows softly in the slight breeze.

The Dornish woman on his right is beautiful and clad in layers of shimmering orange silk and cloth-of-gold that are wrapped around her in many layers, but Sansa believes her face is the saddest one she has ever seen. On the Dragon King's left side sits a woman so lovely and proud, she outshines him with ease. Her golden hair falls down her crimson-covered shoulders in soft ringlets, but her smile is knowing and cruel.

Next to the Dornish woman are two red-haired ladies. Both of them are stout of body and stoic of face. The older one must be her Aunt Lysa, who'd been given to the Dragon King as a peace offering by Sansa's Grandfather Tully.

On the other side of the golden woman is an empty seat, and next to that a younger lady, dark-haired and buxom, and she is heavy with child, as is the brown-haired girl sitting next to her, who looks too young to be one of the Dragon King's wives. On the row below them, the princes and princesses are seated, most of them resembling their mothers, though a couple of them have the silver hair or pallid skin of Old Valyria.

The music comes to an end with one elongated, vibrating note and a man in a long black tunic steps forward. He's wearing a white dragon mask with a grotesquely twisted open mouth and gaping black pits for eyes.

"Good people of Dragon Bay!" he addresses the crowd. "Before you stands Sansa of House Stark, Princess of the Northern Kingdom!" He points at her with a dramatic, sweeping gesture. "She has woken the dragon, and for that, she will be punished!"

Sansa doesn't think when she leaps off the platform and cries out, "Excuse me, I was under the impression I was not to be executed today!"

The Dragon King slowly turns to look at her, his face exquisite but cruel. "This is not an execution. You are our prisoner, Princess of the Northern Kingdom. Your people rebelled against us. You are to be sacrificed to the dragon!"

From the shadows behind him, a woman with dark hair and a long face steps forward, putting a hand on his arm. Sansa can barely contain her gasp. It can't be true, but Sansa is almost completely certain. Even though Aunt Lyanna had been taken many years ago, before Sansa was even born, she appears to be alive and well.

"Dragon Lord," she calls out in a clear and steady voice, "you forget that there is another choice."

Sansa isn't close enough to see any emotion in his still body and stony face. "Very well," he says after a long silence. "My sons! Will any of you claim this woman as his own instead of making her a gift for the dragon?"

She daren't look at any of them, so she pushes her shoulders back and lifts her head without truly seeing them.

A dark-skinned man with silver hair slowly rises, but a golden-haired woman grabs his arm and glares when he turns to face her, and apparently that's enough to change his mind. It looks as if none of his brothers are even going to lift a finger to save her.

The Dragon King rises to his feet. "Call the dragon!"

The deafening roar of a dozen drums swells, drowning out the sound of Sansa's frantically beating heart. She's not sure if hours have passed or only moments when marvelously coloured fireworks start lighting up the darkening sky. She wishes she wasn't about to die, so she could appreciate their beauty.

***

This is it, the moment Jon and his mother have been preparing for years, though it has arrived rather sooner than they anticipated. But Jon knows he doesn't have a choice. Sansa Stark is his cousin, he needs to save her.

The moment he warged into the dragon, finally allowing himself to fully share its mind, he knew he could do it, and now he's soaring across the sky, the first Targaryen in over a hundred years who's been able to tame the dragon. His mother was right, it was her blood that allowed him to do this.

He circles the city, steering the dragon down toward the Dragonpit, and as he lands it, he can hear the gasps and the cries of awe, but he doesn't pay them any mind. He only has eyes for his beautiful, brave cousin. Grown men have fainted at the sight of the dragon, but she's still standing tall.

He doesn't wish to tear his eyes away from her, but a sharp cry distracts him, alerting him to the look of terror on his father's face, and the furious rage on that of Cersei Lannister. His mother offers him a proud smirk.

"I claim the Northern Princess!" he calls out, and her relief is palpable when he gives her a cautious smile, but saving her is only the beginning.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa ff #jonsa fic #my writing #jonsanewyear2021

[camdentown-library]

Day O1 : Holding Hands || male!Eivor x fem!reader

𝕺𝖍, 𝖆 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖋, 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖙 𝖇𝖊?

You and Eivor have made your way to Glowechestreschire, apparently his blacksmith friend was in the mood for marriage and in all honesty after the tragic chapter of Sigurd it was a valid excuse to change a bit 'air. By now the air when the two Vikings were close became almost unbreathable, even for you, Hidden-One with a calm and static mind. As soon as you arrived from Gunnar you were expecting a wedding, sure, but you certainly weren't expecting a party country! Apparently a pagan celebration was upon us: Samhain. Gunnar explained to you that on this holiday the monstrous creatures of the night came out and the people of the village left all kinds of sweets to them. So the blacksmith advised you to disguise yourself as monsters so you can have fun collecting some sweets and scare some naughty children.

"Hahaha ... I feel ridiculous" you said after Gunnar and his promised wife helped you dress up as a monster "You are ridiculous, mate" you said pointing at Eivor with a laugh. He wore the skull of an animal, which covered his face and you too were dressed in the same way. Eivor laughed under his breath as he watched you from head to toe. "Believe me, if there's anything ridiculous it's a monster of your short stature, y / n" he commented crossing his arms to his chest. "Hey!" you said with a slight pout. "Nonsense! You are the spirits of Mari Lwyd herself, Now let's go! Don't take your cloak off during the party and if you sing the locals will delight you with beer and sweets" Gunnar explained, in his usual way of brave storyteller. "Even with a knife to my throat you won't hear me sing" Eivor commented, with the same friendliness as a hunting wolf, you and Gunnar held back a laugh at that point. "Too bad. You know, y / n, Eivor has a really beautiful voice when he sings. Once larks have fallen before him" the building told you in his rich, bubbly and cheerful voice. You bit your cheek so as not to burst out laughing and thanked the gods of Eivor and Gunnar for hiding your face behind a mask. "You know Gunnar, I don't know if the larks have fallen in front of him or fainted for some out of tune" the blacksmith then replied with a fat laugh, while Eivor stopped walking and turned towards you putting his hands on his hips. "Enough..." he said curling his lips a little "Come on now y / n, we have a lot to do and...Gunnar if I find out that my friend and I are the only ones dressed in this absurd way, I'll fill the shop with sheep" concluded the viking from the hair blonde as straw after inviting you with a nod to follow him. It wasn't such a bad night, in fact to be honest you were really enjoying yourself !! You had never been used to participating in these parties so weird, but at the same time fascinating...You felt in a sense your lost childhood rejuvenate and surely celebrating with Eivor was a good choice. You had gone to the door of a house and when it opened a child came out and at the sight of you two gave you all his sweets, with a terrified expression on his face. As soon as the door closed, you heard Eivor's hoarse voice explode in sincere amused laughter. "HAHAHA! Did you see how many sweets? We also have an apple pie!" "hahahaha! Did you see what that kid's face? We could really ask him anything and he would have given it to us" you commented while holding your belly contracted for too much laughter. You looked at Eivor, well...Eivor's mask, for a few moments and after giving him an amused smile, you took him by the hand and started running. "Come on Eivor! Let's find a secluded place to eat our loot" you suggest starting to run, while your friend couldn't help but think how tiny your hand was compared to his. You sat on a hill and after taking off your mask and sharing an amused, contented laugh, you split your apple pie. It was delicious ... you have never eaten such a good and spicy dessert! "We needed this evening between friends" Eivor began eating some cake, observing the horizon and the moon reflecting like silver on the shores of the lake. "You're right..." you commented with your mouth full. "Do you think ... do you think I'm a weightlifting brother?" the Viking suddenly asked after what moment of silence, while you suddenly turned your gaze towards him, with a puzzled grimace. "What ?! No-" you said suddenly and then regain consciousness and understand why he was asking you icò "Hey..." you approached him, taking his left hand with both of yours "You did what you could, ok It is true the skalds sing of an otherworldly warrior, but Eivor, you are a man, you have your limits, and anyone would have done what you did. You have gone even beyond your limits, you have often gotten into trouble, for save Sigurd's life. In time he too will understand" you explained stroking his hand, while the wheat-haired Viking, in a moment of confidence, placed his forehead on yours "Friends don't lie Eivor, what I say is pure truth, Sigurd is shaken by a great anger but over time he will understand who the people who really love him are” you said "And until he understands it, I'll be there to hold your hand" you concluded with a small reassuring smile. Your foreheads were still attached, and the gentle eyes of the drengr at your side watched you closely and then let out a deep sigh. "You're a good girl, y/n" he murmured leaving you a kiss on the forehead and then cheerfully ruffling your hair to dampen his regret caused by his worries, you smiled too as you walked away from him. "You're the good boy, ferocious drengr with a generous heart" "Ah, leave the flattery to Gunnar" he said with a chuckle. "About Gunnar ..." and you both glanced at you, while you smirked "Why don't you sing me a song" "No" the Viking seemed to sulk like a child, and you laughed. "Come on" "Forget it" "I'll give you all my sweets" you proposed, making the blond boy waver. "Just a verse" "Three" "Deal, I want all the apple pie" he said, wiping the crumbs off his lips and standing up after taking a sip of beer, a gift from a village family. He cleared his throat and after looking at you with the same face as those who were walking around naked in the crowded streets he began to sing a tune "My mother told me, Someday I would buy ♫ Galleys with good oars, Sails to distant shores ♫ Stand up high in the prow ♫ Noble barque I steer steady course for the haven ♫ Hew many foe-men ♫ Hew many foe-men ♫ Hew-Hey- Ah-ooooh!" she concluded with a proud howl, while you giggling touched by her demeanor, applauding laughing. It is true, the next morning you would have had to face everyday life again, but unfounded now it was right to enjoy this moment together. "Come, y/n. I teach you to dance this song" Eivor said, giggling, taking both hands and lifting you off the ground. "Hey! Weren't you the one who didn't even want to sing?" you asked ironically, as he guided your hands to follow the steps. "You unleashed the madman in me, now you will suffer the consequences, Eagle-cub"

𝕿𝕳𝕰 𝕰𝕹𝕯

𝕯𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖊? 𝕺𝖗 𝖉𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓?

----------------------------------------------------

Tag list : @tazzclegane​

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed imagines #assassins creed imagines #assassin's creed valhalla #assassins creed valhalla #assassin's creed valhalla imagines #assassin's creed valhalla imagine #assassins creed valhalla imagines #assassins creed valhalla imagine #assassins creed #Eivor #male eivor #male!eivor #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #Once upon a fluff december

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Part 3: Vikings - Kissed by Fire

Summary: After several months and with her husband now at her side, (Y/N) anxiously awaits the arrival of her family but is soon visited by unexpected visitors. 

Pairings: Ragnarssons x Stepmom reader (platonic), Ragnar x reader (romantic)

A/N: Seriously, thank you all for the lovely feedback and support to this little series. It really means a lot to know y’all like it. :D 

                      ------------------------------------------

Several months had passed and the bond (Y/N) had with her stepsons was stronger than ever, over time the boys began to prefer her company and did everything they could to help her in her pregnancy. Her husband, Ragnar had already returned from his raid and just like her was filled with a nervous excitement at the birth of their first child. But of course, there was a slight sense of dread as some time prior, (Y/N)’s family had sent a message that they would come visit to see her. Had it been any other time, she would have welcomed the visit but having their company so close to the birth of her child felt far too soon.

As the only daughter, she had been fiercely protected from men and the world by not just her father but by her nine brothers as well. Considering she was married to Ragnar, a fierce warrior that was always risking his life with danger, the overprotectiveness did not make sense to her at times. Although, it may have been because she was once told that she would only marry someone filled with greatness and Ragnar had that in spades.

Which explained why (Y/N) now sat with her sister wife Aslaug and little Sigurd in the main hall. The ships of her family had been spotted; Ragnar accompanied by Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Bjorn had gone to greet them at the docks as (Y/N) could give birth any day soon.

“You look unwell, sister” Aslaug laughed. “Perhaps I can have a thrall fetch you a tonic to settle your stomach.”

“I am fine, sister. What I am feeling is nervousness as I have not seen my family since my wedding in our lands” (Y/N) said. “Perhaps I should have them fetch one for you, as you had much to drink prior.”

Aslaug scowled at this and snatched Sigurd from her lap. Instantly, the little boy squirmed in discomfort and wiggled in his mother’s arms to reach for (Y/N).

“Mama! Mama!” Sigurd cried with his arms stretched out for (Y/N).

“I am here Sigurd, no need to fuss” Aslaug said through gritted teeth.

With a bit of difficulty, (Y/N) sat up from her seat and gently pried the fussing boy from the arms of Aslaug. Bouncing him on her hip, Sigurd quickly calmed down and nuzzled into his stepmother all the while babbling in content.

“My Sigurd does not like to be held that way” (Y/N) stated.

“He is not your Sigurd” Aslaug sneered.

“At this point, sister. He is not yours either” (Y/N) shot back.

Rather than reply, Aslaug huffed in anger and poured herself more wine as she turned her gaze toward the door that was opened abruptly. Ragnar with help from the boys announced his arrival, but before he could get another word all nine of his brother-in-law’s cheered with glee as they spotted their sister.

“(Y/N)!” they shouted, stampeding toward the young woman.

Almost instantly, the young woman was engulfed by a massive hug from all of her brothers and she giggled with absolute delight at their affection. If there was one thing that she had missed from home, it was being in the center of the embrace of all nine of them. After a few moments, they released her and quickly spoke to her.

“You look like you’re ready to pop, (Y/N)!”

“When will our nephew be born?”

“Can you already feel the little one kick?”

Many other questions were thrown at her, but having been used to it, she waited until they had all gotten the questions out of their system and they eventually fell silent. Feeling a tug at her skirts, she looked down to see Hvitserk looking in fascination at all of them.

“Mama, who are they?” he asked.

Tenderly placing a hand on his head she answered, “These are your uncles. My annoying brothers.”

At this the group protested good naturedly and she pointed to each of them. “That is Antonius the eldest followed by Erik, Alexios, Cole, Athel, Bjarke, Endre, Gunnar, and little Halvor.” To her brothers, she happily introduced her family. “Brothers, you have already met my husband Ragnar and his eldest son Bjorn. But may I introduce my sons Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Sigurd as well as my sister wife Aslaug.”

Gunnar the tallest of the bunch placed a hand on Ubbe’s shoulder, “This one looks like he will be a strong leader.”

Ubbe practically beamed when his newly introduced uncle complimented him. While Antonius placed Hvitserk on his shoulders.

“While this one with his looks will surely have all the women chasing after him.”

Hvitserk merely laughed at his uncle’s compliment as he tugged on the man’s braids to steer him.

“Now with that out of the way, let us feast! To celebrate your arrival and the upcoming birth of (Y/N) and I’s child!” Ragnar said, clapping a hand onto one of his brother-in-law’s shoulders.

                                     --------------------------------------

Oddly enough, the feast did not get too far along as (Y/N) went into labor quickly and was ushered into a room to give birth. Leaving her brothers and stepsons outside to wait as Ragnar accompanied her into the room for support.

“Uncle Bjarke?” Ubbe hesitantly asked. “Will our Mama be okay? I can’t hear anything and when Sigurd was born there was a lot of screaming.”

“Well little one, it is different for every woman. (Y/N) and I were the last children born to our mother, and it is said that she never knew she was going into labor until I was nearly out of the womb” Bjarke answered, garnering a chuckle from his brothers. “But Endre, Cole, and Halvor were born to our father’s second wife. Her pain was so intense, she near fainted after each birth although I think it’s because of how fat they were as babies.”

His answer soothed the young boy that despite his age, did his best to remain strong for his younger brother. So it went, that after moments of silence either Ubbe or Hvitserk would ask their uncles a question until they heard the cry of a baby through the door. All exhaled in relief but gasped when another cry followed not long after. Excitement thrummed through their veins until a thrall stepped out and said that they could come greet the newborn children. It was an amusing sight to see such brawny men and the boys waddle as quietly as they could into the room.

It was certainly a sight, with tired breaths and a smile of contentment on her face, (Y/N) held a small bundle in her arms. Looking up from the swaddled baby, she whispered for Ubbe and Hvitserk to draw a little closer. Hesitantly, they got on top of the bed to be closer.

“My sweet boys, this is your brother Agnar” she whispered.

“We’ll teach him to be brave, Mama” Hvitserk mumbled bringing tears to her eyes at the sweetness of her boys.

“Your father” she pointed out. “Is holding your little sister, Kari.”

It was in this moment that Ragnar Lothbrok had never seemed more content, sitting next to his second wife (Y/N) as she held his son Agnar in her arms. While his sons were seated so comfortably with their stepmother as he held his only daughter Kari lovingly in his own embrace. 

__________________________________________

Tag list (Open): 

@heavenly1927​ @princesscornbread​ 

@ivarthebloodyking​

#vikings #vikings fanfic #ragnar x reader #ragnarssons x reader #bjorn x reader #ubbe x reader #hvitserk x reader #sigurd x reader #ivar x reader #x reader #x reader insert #kissed by fire #x stepmom reader #vikings x reader

[revolution-john]

Madam Dixon

by STEVE LAMBERT

What set the whole thing off was Sam Heintzman leaving a vase of long-stem roses on her front step. It was early still, around seven, and she heard something outside the front door. She peeked out the window and saw Sam waddling back towards his place across the street.  They were beautiful, the roses, and the ring in the middle of the vase were all open and singing, and the ones around the lip, for some reason, huddled in on themselves like little old ladies wrapped in shawls.  A tiny card taped to the vase read, “Let me know if you need anything.  My deepest sympathy.  –Sam.” She leaned in, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Sam, who had been an engineer at the Cape, was recently retired.  His job had been something to do with making the tiles on the front of the space shuttles.  But now he alternated between working in his yard and sitting in a lawn chair in his driveway, drinking canned beer and admiring his landscaping while the sprinklers ran. He had almost no fingernails, and his fingers were nubby at the ends.  Nubbiness, she’d often thought, was his defining feature. On more than one occasion, she’d seen him pop a beer tab with his house key. She couldn’t imagine “needing” anything from him.

Rich and Sam hadn’t exactly been friends, but living so close to each other for so many years, they’d became steady acquaintances, treated each other in that excessively cordial way that people do who don’t know each other intimately; all those handshakes and nods and winks and courteous chuckles—affirming gestures, like two salesmen.  Plus they both spoke the dull Latin of lawn care.  She recalled how on late afternoons the two of them would walk slowly around their or Sam’s yard, each with a can of beer in hand, pointing at various imposters, pulling them up and naming them: tickseed, dollar weed, chick weed, etc., etc.  She didn’t know the language.  It was an easy way for them to be, but she saw the way Sam looked at her sometimes.  She thought Rich noticed, too, but he was not the jealous type.  Never was one to get territorial.  

              She didn’t really feel like visiting, but probably should, she thought, go thank him for the roses before it got too late.  For some reason, she thought about how hard she’d found it to be alone at night, especially not being a sound sleeper. That was the most pronounced absence she felt in the wake of Rich’s death—his not being there, next to her, when she lay in bed at night.  It was just her now when she’d wake up at two or three in the morning; her and the intermittent sounds of the night settled down around the house, gently crushing it into the dirt, like a child slowly pressing its soft, fat hand down on a toy it has decided is no longer fun to play with.

She glanced over at the vase of roses on the bar, where she’d put them, and decided to walk over to Sam’s and invite him for lunch.  Why not? She thought. It’s a neighborly gesture. It would be an imposition for me, to go to lunch, but it would probably mean a lot to him. Anyway, it’s the right thing to do.  

 He answered the door in his usual attire: plaid shorts, white V-neck and flip-flops—big grin on his round face.  “Madam Dixon,” he said in a voice like a retired boxer’s, and bowed, his rubber flip-flops squealing under the strain.  

“Sam,” she said, “the flowers are lovely.  Thank you for them—and the card.  It was very nice of you.” She didn’t mean to sound dismissive but thought maybe she had. She hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“Come in, come in,” he said, moving to the side, and she reluctantly stepped into the dark living room. She found herself wondering if was her first time inside his house. A couch hunkered to her immediate right, and a small hallway stretched out beyond it.  Light funneled in from the back of the house. Particles floated and swirled around in the rays of light like nebulae.

“Thank you,” she said.  No, I must have been in here before, she thought, but couldn’t think of a single time she had.

“Have a seat.” He pointed to the couch, and then touched a stout finger to his nose, as if nudging it into place.

“It’s rather dark in here, don’t you think, Sam.”

“I guess it is if you’re coming in from outside,” he said, and he opened the blinds. Light slanted in in thin layers. He winced a bit.

“How’s that, madam?”

“You don’t have to call me that, you know,” she said.  Now that Rich is gone, she thought, it seems silly somehow.  She had been “madam” to his “Colonel.”  

“Oh, it’s just for fun,” he said.  “Would you like something to drink?  A cold adult beverage, perhaps?  I have some Busch in the fridge.”

“No, thank you, Sam. I just stopped by—”

“I believe I’ll have one, if you don’t mind.”

While he was gone she noticed a very large framed photograph on the wall, opposite the couch, of a space shuttle blasting off of a launch pad.  She pointed it out when he returned with his beer.

“Oh, her.  She’s the Columbia. A real beautiful craft.  The first to go to space.…April twelve, nineteen eighty-one.” He clicked his tongue then sipped his beer.  She found it mildly irritating that he referred to it as “her,” but didn’t dwell on it because she realized something.

“Rich took me to that launch, Sam.  We were there, at the—what do you call it—where the bleachers are? Where everyone watches?”

“The Causeway?” He slightly tipped the beer can and slurped, like he was trying to be extra careful not to spill any.

“That’s it. The NASA Causeway.  That’s where we were. We’d been transferred to Patrick about, I don’t know, a month prior—from Barksdale, in Louisiana.  He was so excited about that—getting to see that first shuttle launch.”

She remembered: on the way to the Cape, Rich driving huddled up close to the steering wheel, pointing up at the sky, and her just sitting there listening. “Folks who’ve been to rocket launches say you can watch it the whole way up. You can see everything: the glint of sunlight on the metal, the tower of smoke, like a string of popcorn, like on a Christmas tree—everything.  Takes maybe an hour to disappear, to dissipate.  Course, this’ll be a little different.”  Neither of them knew exactly what a shuttle was, but he made it sound much more interesting than she would have found it all by herself. The car swerved a little under the strain of Rich’s excitement.

And it was something. And crowded with people—people with binoculars and telescopes and wearing sunglasses and wide-brimmed hats and men in shorts and Hawaiian-print shirts, open at the front.  One woman chased a little boy, who was about three, in circles.  She was short, but pretty, and had on a black one-piece bathing suit.  The little boy chuckled as his young mother chased after him, one hand keeping her sun hat on her head. And they all watched it lift off and go up and it all seemed so slow, but it wasn’t slow, it was fast, hundreds of miles per hour, but from where they stood everything was happening in slow motion, beautiful and vivid and big.

“It was a big deal, Madam. Very exciting.”  Sam walked closer to the photo, swigging as he moved, like a kid with a glass of milk. She half expected him to start blowing bubbles in his beer. “Who knows,” he said, “the guy or gal who took this picture might have been standing right next to you.” He looked away from the photo. “Barksdale,” he said, and scratched at the top of his blotchy bald head. “Seems like I’ve been there…”

She watched him and wait for more, but nothing followed.

“Sam,” she said, “I was wondering.  Do you have any lunch plans?” It seemed absurd the second she said it. Of course he didn’t. She imagined him opening a can of tuna and eating straight out of it with a fork.

“Oh, well,” he said.  He put the beer can down on the coffee table and scratched at his head again.  He moved closer to the wall with the photo of the shuttle on it. He put a hand on the wall, like he was bracing himself for a dizzy spell.

This can’t be happening, she thought.  He isn’t even attractive. He’s an old troll. I don’t like him a bit, to be honest. Drinking beer this early in the day.  She got a flush feeling and her face felt warm.  He thinks I’m a sad, pathetic old widow.

“I do, as a matter of fact, Marie.  I’m going out to the—” He looked at his watch.  “And won’t be back till—Maybe we can—”

“Oh, that’s fine,” she said.  She stood up, shook her head.  “Really. It’s fine.”  She thought she might start crying, which was completely out of the question.  This is not a rejection, she told herself. It’s just bad timing.

“Well,” he said, and he smoothed the palms of his hands across his shirt front.

“No need to explain, Sam.  It’s fine,” she said, smiling. She found that she was pressing on her hair with one hand. She made herself stop. “Rain check,” she added, without having thought about it beforehand.

“Yes!” he said, happy to have a word for the awkwardness he felt.  “Rain check, indeed, madam.”

 She watched from her living room window as Sam got into his burgundy Chrysler and pulled out and sped off down the road and out of sight.  Where is he going so fast? She thought.  She picked one of the roses from the center of the bouquet and smelled of it.  Its scent was so faint that she couldn’t think of a word to describe it.  He’d said he wouldn’t be back till late.

 She’d loved Rich, she often thought, because he made her feel like somebody. In the beginning, when they were dating, she’d felt unfamiliar to herself when she was with him. Later, after they were married, the wife of an Air Force officer, she felt confident and important. Initially, anyway. She loved him for that, for that gift he probably didn’t even consider a gift.  She loved it better than any jewelry or flowers or exotic getaway. It felt almost permanent, and it was real. But things always change. Things didn’t get better or worse—they just changed.  They were two people in a habituation together. She continued to love him, and she supposed he still loved her.  But towards the end it wasn’t a gift so much as an ill-fitting pair of jeans you can’t bring yourself to give away because you are sure you’ll fit back into them some day.

 She waited till dusk.  She put on dark clothes and her old running sneakers and grabbed the flashlight out of the catchall drawer in the kitchen. She preemptively took two Ibuprofen. If I have to do any climbing or crawling or anything I’ll be sore tomorrow, she thought. It was very quiet outside.  

She checked his side door, the one that goes into the garage, and it was unlocked, of course. No one locked up in their neighborhood. There was no need to. It smelled like gasoline and fertilizer in the garage, and the smell made her feel lightheaded.  She lifted the mat at the foot of the door that led from the garage into the house, but didn’t find a key. she shone the flashlight around until she saw a little metal hook on the wall, to the left of the door, with a ring of keys hanging on it. She tried five before she found the right one. Before she turned the key in the lock she took a moment to consider what Rich would think of this.  Presumably, she thought, he could be watching me at this very moment.  What do you think, Rich? she whispered. It gave her the creeps to hear her voice in the dark, stinky garage.  She heard something scurry and thought rat or possum and inserted the key and quickly entered the house.

In the yellow glow of the flashlight bulb the photograph looked mythic. She immediately had an urge to cry, standing there looking at it with what amounted to a spotlight on it.  For the first time in a month she was feeling the full weight of her grief. Before she knew it she was sitting on Sam’s couch looking up at the photograph, sobbing—like a proper widow, she thought.  What an odd place for mourning?  But the photo captured something, and not just the shuttle launch—that was secondary—but the color and feel of that day, that point in time.  The quality of light.  A small bit of her life, as it had been once, paused—a crystalized memory she’d forgotten she had.

She got up and walked over to the picture and put the flashlight right on it. Maybe if I look long enough I’ll find us, she thought, me and Rich, with our hands shielding the sun from our eyes, watching the shuttle climb up towards space.  Maybe I’ll find the petite young mother and her little boy. She looked and squinted and searched the photograph.  But she needed more time with it.  Most of the onlookers were blurry. It was too dark now. The shuttle, lifting off, and the dense exhaust, were the most vivid things. She stared so hard that things got distorted and she started to zone out. She imagined Sam ripping his nubby fingernails off and sticking them to the black nose of the spacecraft.  He ripped one off and stuck it on and went for another one.  Then he took a sip of beer. Disgusting old troll, she thought. Who drinks beer in the middle of the day, anyway?  

A few minutes passed and she pulled herself together. She sat and stared at the huge thing hanging there on the wall until a light from outside grew and intensified and she realized that it was the headlights from Sam’s car, shining in through the window as he pulled into the driveway.

She wasn’t sure what to do. She heard the car door slam. She turned off the flashlight and put it in her back pocket and carefully hoisted the photograph off the wall and crept, bent over, to the door that let out to the garage. From inside the garage, she heard the key in the front door, heard it turn and the door open. Sam sighed as he closed it. She slowly put the keys back on the hook by the door in the garage. She paused and heard an interior door, a bedroom door. She left the garage and stole quickly across the street, tip-toed home in the dark, the picture under her arm, like a cat burglar.  But what I’ve done doesn’t feel like stealing, she thought, as she sat the photograph against the wall in her bedroom. She took the flashlight out of her pocket and sat on the edge of her bed. It feels like something else. Feels like a resurrection.

()

Steve Lambert’s writing has appeared, or is forthcoming, in Saw Palm, Chiron Review, New Contrast (South Africa), The Pinch, Broad River Review, Longleaf Review, Emrys Journal, BULL Fiction, Into the Void, Cowboy Jamboree, Cortland Review, and many other places. In 2015 he won third place in Glimmer Train’s Very Short Fiction contest and in 2018 he won Emrys Journal’s Nancy Dew Taylor Poetry Prize. He is the recipient of four Pushcart Prize nominations and was a Rash Award in Fiction finalist. He is the author of the poetry collection Heat Seekers (CW Books, 2017), the chapbook In Eynsham (CW Books, 2020) and the fiction collection The Patron Saint of Birds (Cowboy Jamboree, 2020). His novel, Philisteens, will be out May 2021, and his second full-length poetry collection, The Shamble, will be out in October, both with Close to The Bone Publishing. He lives in Northeast Florida, with his wife and daughter, where he teaches part-time at the University of North Florida.  

#steve lambert #short story

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[artdaily7]

The Garden of Proserpine By Algernon Charles Swinburne

Here, where the world is quiet; Here, where all trouble seems Dead winds' and spent waves' riot In doubtful dreams of dreams; I watch the green field growing For reaping folk and sowing, For harvest-time and mowing, A sleepy world of streams.

I am tired of tears and laughter, And men that laugh and weep; Of what may come hereafter For men that sow to reap: I am weary of days and hours, Blown buds of barren flowers, Desires and dreams and powers And everything but sleep.

Here life has death for neighbour, And far from eye or ear Wan waves and wet winds labour, Weak ships and spirits steer; They drive adrift, and whither They wot not who make thither; But no such winds blow hither, And no such things grow here.

No growth of moor or coppice, No heather-flower or vine, But bloomless buds of poppies, Green grapes of Proserpine, Pale beds of blowing rushes Where no leaf blooms or blushes Save this whereout she crushes For dead men deadly wine.

Pale, without name or number, In fruitless fields of corn, They bow themselves and slumber All night till light is born; And like a soul belated, In hell and heaven unmated, By cloud and mist abated Comes out of darkness morn.

Though one were strong as seven, He too with death shall dwell, Nor wake with wings in heaven, Nor weep for pains in hell; Though one were fair as roses, His beauty clouds and closes; And well though love reposes, In the end it is not well.

Pale, beyond porch and portal, Crowned with calm leaves, she stands Who gathers all things mortal With cold immortal hands; Her languid lips are sweeter Than love's who fears to greet her To men that mix and meet her From many times and lands.

She waits for each and other, She waits for all men born; Forgets the earth her mother, The life of fruits and corn; And spring and seed and swallow Take wing for her and follow Where summer song rings hollow And flowers are put to scorn.

There go the loves that wither, The old loves with wearier wings; And all dead years draw thither, And all disastrous things; Dead dreams of days forsaken, Blind buds that snows have shaken, Wild leaves that winds have taken, Red strays of ruined springs.

We are not sure of sorrow, And joy was never sure; To-day will die to-morrow; Time stoops to no man's lure; And love, grown faint and fretful, With lips but half regretful Sighs, and with eyes forgetful Weeps that no loves endure.

From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.

Then star nor sun shall waken, Nor any change of light: Nor sound of waters shaken, Nor any sound or sight: Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, Nor days nor things diurnal; Only the sleep eternal In an eternal night.

Claude Oscar Monet 1882 The Cliff Walk Pourville, oil on canvas, Art Institute of Chicago

#Algernon Charles Swinburne #Claude Oscar Monet #Monet #The Cliff Walk Pourville #The Garden of Proserpine #Swinburne #Art #Poetry #Fine Arts #Poems #Painting

[lucidescuella]

mellifluous ; javier escuella

first time writing with an OC and i’m really happy with this!! i want to make this an ongoing thing too ☺ i might of made this a little self-indulgent lmao

word count: 1,778

Aurora had always enjoyed the outdoors. There was something so soothing about the smell of fresh grass and the harmony of wildlife around her. She blames her mother for her love of nature due to the fact that their cabin was so small, so all she could do was play outside, but she truthfully didn’t mind. She remembers how she and her older sisters, Amélie and Violet, would run around the grassy fields until they collapsed from exhaustion, usually followed by a fit of giggles. 

Oh, how she missed that old cabin. It was practically falling apart, but her mother had tried her utmost to make it into a home. That old vase that had been in their family for generations was filled with a new set of flowers every week, resting on the middle of the table. Her mother had a consummate hobby of embroidery that she constantly used to decorate. They didn’t have much, but they had each other. At least, for the time being. 

Presently, she’s surrounded by a group of people who Aurora is unfamiliar with, a mix of gazes full of pity and hushed whispers behind her back. She had taken a liking to Mary-Beth and Tilly, who reminded her of her sisters. Karen was a lot to deal with, but not particularly unkind. The men in the camp seemed to avoid her, as she did to them, though she was sure for different reasons. They appeared to be the type to steer clear of comforting someone, most likely because of the awkwardness, while Aurora avoided them because she never really had experiences with men in her life. Though, Hosea was an exception, a warmth in the swarm of cold that she experienced in the past few weeks. 

When a group of men displayed in black hats rode into her line of sight, Aurora had already had a feeling of dread aching through her entire body. She remembered wondering who the hell could these guys be? No one had ever come onto their hidden land of property before. Calling for her mother and immediately grabbing Violet’s hand, everything after that was a cloudy blur of yelling and gunshots that led up to desperately grasping her limp mother close to her chest, witnessing the light draining from her eyes. She remembered the heavy guilt on her shoulders as she watched her sisters get thrown on the back of a horse, riding off in the distance. She knew what those kinds of men did to girls. 

She was an absolute mess when a man named Arthur found her on a trail on the outskirts of Valentine, covered in blood and dried tears. 

Now, she feels weight on her as she runs her fingers through the grass of Horseshoe Overlook, though a part of her is content with the memories playing through her head. The sunrise had just ended, the mix of pinks and oranges fading out to a faint blue. The sound of people starting to wake up and beginning their day overwhelmed Aurora, but she sat still on her spot on the edge of the cliff, shuffling random rocks beneath her. After a while, Tilly had come down to the shore and began to wash clothes, “Hi there, Aurora. Do you mind if I sit here?”

“Of course not, Tilly.”

Tilly sat on the ground next to her and sighed softly, “It’s been a rough couple of weeks. I don’t think we’ve ever been worked this hard by Miss Grimshaw. She starts to yell when I just sit down.”

“Yeah, she seems very...intense.” In all honesty, Aurora was terrified of her and tried to avoid her at all costs. It seemed like anything could and would set her off, but she wasn’t going to admit that to Tilly.

“That’s one word to describe her.”

Footsteps sounded behind the girls, both turning their heads in slight fear thinking that Miss Grimshaw had overheard and was coming to confront them about it, but they were relieved to see Javier Escuella with a mug of coffee in his hand and a soft smile on his face, “Miss Jackson, Miss Everett. How are you ladies doing today?” 

Tilly returned the smile, “We’re just fine, Mister Escuella. Got any plans for today?”

“Oh, you know, rob a stagecoach, get some leads. Try to keep busy.”

“Same old, same old.” 

Javier chuckled and nodded, turning his head to Aurora who was interested in the ground all of a sudden. She felt like she was intruding on a conversation between two obvious friends, and frankly she just felt that she wasn’t wanted there by most. Little did she know that Javier was intrigued in the mystery that was Aurora Everett. As soon as he caught sight of her striking red, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes that held a substantial amount of pain, he knew that he had to get to know her more. The whole gang had known what had happened to her and had taken some sort of pity on her, though that didn’t get in the way of them making it clear that if she wanted to stay, she would need to do some type of work to earn her keep. 

She had understood, but that didn’t stop her from dreading it.

Javier could see that the girl was feeling closed off from the group and decided to take action. After all, when he first joined the group, Dutch did everything he could do to make him feel welcome. “Miss Everett? Since Sean has been rescued, we’re throwing a little party tonight in celebration. Maybe you’d want to join us.”

Aurora felt a little scared of the spotlight put on her, but she pushed it down as best to her abilities, “Uh, what do you do at these kinds of parties?”

“We drink a little, sing songs. It’s not a huge thing, but it’s a lot of fun.”

“I-...sure. I’ll join...”

“Great! Can’t wait. I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Tilly waved a goodbye at the man before smiling at Aurora, “I can’t wait for tonight! Maybe you’ll even feel up to singing a song of your own.”

Though she knew that Tilly was teasing her, her heartbeat picked up, “O-oh, I don’t think so. I don’t think I’m ready for all of that.”

“Oh, of course. We can just lie low, if you want. I would avoid Karen if you want to do that, though.” 

By the time night rolled around, Aurora was done with the list of chores given to her by Mary-Beth. She was exhausted and really didn’t feel up to a party anyway, but she figured that she was going to be around these people for a while, and needed to make good trust with them. Maybe that trust will start with this party. Dutch’s gramophone was blasting through the camp just before the party started, and while she enjoyed the reminded memory of her very own gramophone back home, she didn’t favor the choice of opera that Dutch seemed to like. 

Finally people started to gather, and she sat with a woman named Sadie Adler who was also rescued by the gang. As horrible as it sounds, she was almost relieved to have someone who could relate to her, to not feel alone. She really couldn’t tell if Sadie appreciated her there or not, but she didn’t say anything, so she assumed it was alright. Aurora had heard from Abigail that her husband died at the hands of a group called the O'Driscolls, known for their violent actions against, well, everyone. Part of her suspected that this was the group who was responsible for the death of her mother and the taking of her sisters, but she refrained from asking questions, more so because she didn’t know if she could get through the story without breaking down completely. 

Javier had seen her sit away from the group, clearly wanting to keep a distance. He wasn’t going to force her to join everyone, who was a little more rowdy tonight due to the fact that this was their first celebration in awhile, but he did want to try to get her to open up more. He bid a goodbye to the men gathered around the campfire and grabbed his guitar, searching for the girl he was, for some reason, interested in. He thinks it’s something about the way she appeared almost like a ghost. Where Sadie Adler slowly mourned the loss of her husband, Aurora efficiently worked the day along and kept to herself, usually with a blank look on her face. Almost like she wasn’t there. 

 He took a seat next to her on the outer part of camp. She jumped a bit when she was abruptly knocked out of her train of thought, Javier holding out a hand to try to calm her down, “Lo siento, querida. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The redhead sighed in alleviation, “No, it’s fine. My fault.”

Javier jerked his head to the side, displaying confusion, “How is that your fault?”

“I don’t know. I zone out a lot.”

“Well, that’s hardly your fault, querida. I noticed you weren’t at the party, any reason why?”

Oh, god. Aurora thought. They’re going to think that I’m distant and untrustworthy, if they don’t think that already. 

“Um, yeah. Sorry, I just really didn’t feel up to it, I guess.”

Javier nodded, and brought up his guitar to rest in his lap. He glanced at her and found her already looking at him, quickly breaking the gaze, settling it on the sight of her fidgeting with her hands. A warmth crept into his chest, a soft smile visible on his face, “If it’s alright, I would like to play here. I could do without the drunk payasos around.”

“Yeah, that’s alright.”

And with the sound of a mix of people slurring drunkenly and some heading off to bed, it all faded with the soft strumming of Javier’s guitar. An unknown melody had flooded her ears and she hesitantly snuck a look at him, contentment seeming into her veins. She hadn’t felt that in what seemed like an eternity. He had felt the stare of the girl and glanced up, meeting her gaze, and throwing a small smirk at her.

While Aurora had a long way to go to feel okay again, she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt with the man next to her.

lo siento, querida: i’m sorry, darling

querida: darling

payasos: clowns (male)

i used google translate like an idiot, so please tell me if you notice anything inaccurate!!

#rdr2 #rdr x reader #rdr2 edit #rdr2 fanart #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x oc #rdr x oc #rdr #javier escuella #javier escuella imagine #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x oc #red dead redemption 2 #rdredit #red dead online #red dead redemption

[sugarbowlenthusiast]

The Garden of Prosperpine

Here, where the world is quiet; 

         Here, where all trouble seems 

Dead winds' and spent waves' riot 

         In doubtful dreams of dreams; 

I watch the green field growing 

For reaping folk and sowing, 

For harvest-time and mowing, 

         A sleepy world of streams. 

I am tired of tears and laughter, 

         And men that laugh and weep; 

Of what may come hereafter 

         For men that sow to reap: 

I am weary of days and hours, 

Blown buds of barren flowers, 

Desires and dreams and powers 

         And everything but sleep. 

Here life has death for neighbour, 

         And far from eye or ear 

Wan waves and wet winds labour, 

         Weak ships and spirits steer; 

They drive adrift, and whither 

They wot not who make thither;

But no such winds blow hither, 

         And no such things grow here. 

No growth of moor or coppice, 

         No heather-flower or vine, 

But bloomless buds of poppies, 

         Green grapes of Proserpine, 

Pale beds of blowing rushes 

Where no leaf blooms or blushes 

Save this whereout she crushes 

         For dead men deadly wine. 

Pale, without name or number, 

         In fruitless fields of corn, 

They bow themselves and slumber 

         All night till light is born; 

And like a soul belated, 

In hell and heaven unmated, 

By cloud and mist abated 

         Comes out of darkness morn. 

Though one were strong as seven, 

         He too with death shall dwell, 

Nor wake with wings in heaven, 

         Nor weep for pains in hell; 

Though one were fair as roses, 

His beauty clouds and closes;

And well though love reposes, 

         In the end it is not well. 

Pale, beyond porch and portal, 

         Crowned with calm leaves, she stands 

Who gathers all things mortal 

         With cold immortal hands; 

Her languid lips are sweeter 

Than love's who fears to greet her 

To men that mix and meet her 

         From many times and lands. 

She waits for each and other, 

         She waits for all men born; 

Forgets the earth her mother, 

            The life of fruits and corn; 

And spring and seed and swallow 

Take wing for her and follow 

Where summer song rings hollow 

         And flowers are put to scorn. 

There go the loves that wither, 

         The old loves with wearier wings; 

And all dead years draw thither, 

         And all disastrous things; 

Dead dreams of days forsaken, 

Blind buds that snows have shaken, 

Wild leaves that winds have taken, 

         Red strays of ruined springs. 

We are not sure of sorrow, 

         And joy was never sure; 

To-day will die to-morrow; 

         Time stoops to no man's lure; 

And love, grown faint and fretful, 

With lips but half regretful 

Sighs, and with eyes forgetful 

         Weeps that no loves endure. 

From too much love of living, 

         From hope and fear set free, 

We thank with brief thanksgiving 

         Whatever gods may be 

That no life lives for ever; 

That dead men rise up never; 

That even the weariest river

         Winds somewhere safe to sea. 

Then star nor sun shall waken, 

         Nor any change of light: 

Nor sound of waters shaken, 

         Nor any sound or sight: 

Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, 

Nor days nor things diurnal; 

Only the sleep eternal 

         In an eternal night. 

By Algernon Charles Swinburne

#poetry #the garden of prosperpine #vfd

[zirkmct]

Here, where the world is quiet;         Here, where all trouble seems Dead winds' and spent waves' riot         In doubtful dreams of dreams; I watch the green field growing For reaping folk and sowing, For harvest-time and mowing,         A sleepy world of streams. I am tired of tears and laughter,         And men that laugh and weep; Of what may come hereafter         For men that sow to reap: I am weary of days and hours, Blown buds of barren flowers, Desires and dreams and powers         And everything but sleep. Here life has death for neighbour,         And far from eye or ear Wan waves and wet winds labour,         Weak ships and spirits steer; They drive adrift, and whither They wot not who make thither; But no such winds blow hither,         And no such things grow here. No growth of moor or coppice,         No heather-flower or vine, But bloomless buds of poppies,         Green grapes of Proserpine, Pale beds of blowing rushes Where no leaf blooms or blushes Save this whereout she crushes         For dead men deadly wine. Pale, without name or number,         In fruitless fields of corn, They bow themselves and slumber         All night till light is born; And like a soul belated, In hell and heaven unmated, By cloud and mist abated         Comes out of darkness morn. Though one were strong as seven,         He too with death shall dwell, Nor wake with wings in heaven,         Nor weep for pains in hell; Though one were fair as roses, His beauty clouds and closes; And well though love reposes,         In the end it is not well. Pale, beyond porch and portal,         Crowned with calm leaves, she stands Who gathers all things mortal         With cold immortal hands; Her languid lips are sweeter Than love's who fears to greet her To men that mix and meet her         From many times and lands. She waits for each and other,         She waits for all men born; Forgets the earth her mother,            The life of fruits and corn; And spring and seed and swallow Take wing for her and follow Where summer song rings hollow         And flowers are put to scorn. There go the loves that wither,         The old loves with wearier wings; And all dead years draw thither,         And all disastrous things; Dead dreams of days forsaken, Blind buds that snows have shaken, Wild leaves that winds have taken,         Red strays of ruined springs. We are not sure of sorrow,         And joy was never sure; To-day will die to-morrow;         Time stoops to no man's lure; And love, grown faint and fretful, With lips but half regretful Sighs, and with eyes forgetful         Weeps that no loves endure. From too much love of living,         From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving         Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river         Winds somewhere safe to sea. Then star nor sun shall waken,         Nor any change of light: Nor sound of waters shaken,         Nor any sound or sight: Nor wintry leaves nor vernal, Nor days nor things diurnal; Only the sleep eternal         In an eternal night.

#poetry #algernon charles swinburne #art #henry a payne