#i always thought i did this because i grew up on a farm and weather is important

[turbulenthandholding]

One of my favorite subgenres of the Neurodivergent Waiting™️ phenomena (where you are hard pressed to do anything other than waiting until it is time for an appointment or an outing or an event or a meeting, or whatever) is Waiting for Weather .

It is unusually warm where I live today and there are supposed to be thunderstorms this evening. My brain is pretty sure I should not be doing anything until it does or does not storm tonight. And if it does storm, my brain will tell me I can't do anything during the storm because it is storming, and then afterwards I will be exhausted because I will have spent my day spun up waiting for weather that may or may not have happened.

[cottonlemonade]

A Simpler Life [Part 3]

word count: 2296 || avg. reading time: 10 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, neighbors to lovers

warnings: spoilers

synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor.

[part 1] [part 2]

The next day you waited in the front yard for him on his way home and invited him for dinner again. And the day after that. And after that. Before long, you offered a standing dinner invitation and he happily accepted.

Now Kita’s steps quickened when he called it a day. It became rarer that he stayed until sundown to maybe do something that could be easily taken care of tomorrow. Having dinner with you every night was almost as if … almost like… coming home to you. The first thing he did when he stepped through your gate was go check on your plants. The tomatoes were doing really well and your radishes, while a bit on the puny side, also weren't too shabby. He wound a few of the newly formed pea vines around the trellis, then went to knock on your door.

A wonderful smell wafted in his nose but his heart only jumped when he saw you. You were setting the table, an apron around your plump hips, your hair tied up to a bun. It took every ounce of self control he had not to greet you with “I‘m home“. But maybe you‘d find it funny if he did? He tucked the thought away for later. Right now he dusted off his clothes, took off his shoes and stepped inside.

With the rainy season came a new routine for Kita. He loved this time of year because his fields thrived in this weather and it was fun for him to go check on their growth every other day when there was a break from the downpour. While the rain splattered loudly on the roofs and puddle-strewn streets, he stayed inside, doing the paperwork that came with farming, going over numbers and making phone calls to ensure the supply chain was in order once it was time to harvest mid fall. Before, he would have used the remaining time in his days to read or do some maintenance around his home, fixing little things he noticed or building a new piece of sturdy furniture to then deliver to his grandmother in the little hamlet he grew up in 40 minutes away. And while he did do all those things, he made very sure to keep aside more time for you as well. You met up in town for a cup of tea or to go to the grocery store together or drove to a neighboring town for a famous fish market he had told you about, eating your fill of gorgeously fresh sashimi and having a drink under the beautiful traditional awnings of the shops while looking out onto the stormy waves of the ocean. You never called it a date. You always made sure to refer to it as an “outing” and while he was glad to spend time with you, no matter what it was called, he couldn’t help but deflate a little whenever you clarified it to the people in your town who had gotten curious and suspicious about how often you two were spotted together. “Our Kita never spends this much time with anyone, let alone a pretty thing like ya. Ya should pay Yumie a visit soon, I reckon.”, one of the grandmothers had noted the other day and Kita had vehemently shaken his head behind your back to make her stop. The last thing he needed was word getting back to his grandma. She would want to meddle or as she would put it “help”. She would probably invite you over for dinner and ask all kinds of embarrassing questions, strongly hinting at the fact that she wasn’t getting any younger and Kita should hurry up and give her a pretty wedding and plenty of great-grandchildren. It wouldn’t matter that her grandson hadn’t made any romantic advances to you yet or that you perhaps didn’t even see children in your future. In all honesty, Kita would be happy with whatever you wanted. You would want children? Alright, he could get started on that straight away as far as he was concerned. You would want to spend your days with him alone and get those little goats you were gushing over the other day? He would gladly comply and build their enclosure as soon as you’d say the word. But as much as he was yours, you weren���t his. He was accompanying you on outings and although you were incredibly sweet and initiated contact often, he had learned that this was just the way you were. And he was foolish to read anything else into it.

He almost didn‘t hear the knock over the rain. It was early in the morning and he sat on his couch with a cup of tea and a book but looked up when he heard your voice calling his name.

Opening the door he came face to face with a pitiful pout.

“My home flooded.“, you announced.

“What?“

“Apparently the roof isn‘t roofing as it should and now there is a huge puddle in my living room.“

A few minutes later he stood in your doorway, marveling at the myriad of blankets and towels laid out on the floor while in the middle of the room a big flower printed bucket was steadily filling up with water trickling in from the ceiling.

He would have a word with the town‘s realtor later for selling you a house that was anything less than perfect.

“Once the rain calms down a little I’ll have a look at it. Weather report said it should be dry in the afternoon.”

You threw him a hopeful smile.

“Really? Thank you so much! Can I make you lunch in return?”

He shook his head and upon seeing your face falter he immediately followed it with, “Ya’ve been cooking for me for weeks. Lemme do it for once.”

Personally, you thought you deserved an award for not drooling all over Kita‘s kitchen table. Seeing him shake out his wet hair when he returned from a quick run to the greenhouse for some fresh veggies was already testing you but now he was preparing said fresh veggies to turn into omurice and you were just about ready to lose your mind. There was something so wonderfully cozy and domestic about seeing this man prepare his produce with a little unconscious smile on his lips. His shoulders, broadened by the field work, moved smoothly as he fried the rice and you didn‘t hear him at first when he asked you a question, because your thoughts were somewhere else entirely. The meal immediately turned into your new favorite dish and his cheeks blushed when you couldn’t stop gushing about how good his rice tasted. You learned a while ago that it was a big source of pride for him when people complimented his produce, so you made sure to do it whenever possible, suppressing all the squeaks rising in your throat when you saw him turn shy. As you two enjoyed lunch, he requested more stories about your traveling and how you came to Japan, listening intently and asking for more details here and there. Laying a hand on your well-filled tummy you leaned back and let your eyes wander through his pristine home and out the open window, watching the continuous streams of collected rain drizzling from the shingles of the porch awning. Your eyes fell onto the little open shed next to his gate and the curled up form of his dog lazing around underneath.

“Shouldn’t we let him in?”, you asked and Kita followed your gaze.

“Hm? Why? Roku is a guard dog. He lives outside.”

“But… it’s wet outside.”, you mumbled.

“It’s nice in the hay, I promise.”

“Hm…”

“Don’t worry, he is doing well. If he’d be in here he couldn’t do his job properly to guard ya.”

Using his chopsticks, Kita placed a red bean mochi for dessert on a small plate with more fresh strawberries and handed it to you. You accepted and chewed the sweet treat thoughtfully, still looking outside, unaware of his adoring smile.

The rain did let up in the afternoon just as predicted and together you carried a ladder and some supplies over to your house. You insisted on helping and although you couldn‘t do much to assist, you noted that you could still cheer him on and make sure the ladder didn‘t fall.

Moving slowly on the wet roof he went to work. The leak was fortunately nothing major and it didn‘t take long to fix. On his way back to the ladder however -

He drew in a sharp breath when he felt a muscle pull in his shoulder.

“Oh my gosh, are you alright?“, he heard you call from the ground.

“Yeah. Just slipped.“

Kita almost missed a step on his way down when he suddenly felt your hand supporting his back. He was really trying not to enjoy you fussing over him but when you led him inside and ordered him to sit on your couch while you prepared an ice pack, he couldn‘t help but play it up eeever so slightly. And then regretted it instantly when you offered to apply a muscle relaxant balm. Ears and cheeks burning, stomach stirring, skin tingling and thoughts racing, Kita focused on a wood knot on your floor, telling himself to calm down as you rubbed the balm onto his shoulder.

With the start of the new week he was once again busy with errands in town and the city and only got to see you for your daily dinner - by now his favorite part of the day. When he got home on Friday night, he was surprised that Roku didn‘t come to greet him as he stepped out of his car. Kita looked around and found the black and white dog snuggled in the open shed in his usual space but now lounging luxuriously on a very plush dark blue pillow. He sighed as he knelt down to pet the soft floppy ears, Roku blinking sleepily up at him but not moving from his new bed.

It looked like you made it yourself, it even had the dog’s name embroidered on the side.

“She really spoils us both, hm?“, Kita muttered and Roku grumbled in agreement.

And so, with another sigh, he decided to confess to you. Soon. Even if just for his own peace of mind.

Once you had left after dinner and he was alone with his thoughts, Kita tried to focus on his book but his mind kept wandering. He had never confessed to anyone before. Quite honestly, as much as his grandmother would have been disappointed, he had been fully prepared to be alone for the rest of his days. He never would have guessed that a gorgeous foreigner from the city would take up residence in his heart. You reminded him of the little wild tulips that dotted the fields with white each new spring. They had always been his favorite because although maybe unassuming and almost delicate at first glance, when you looked closer they were resilient and just… beautiful. He should probably write you a letter to let him choose his words carefully. Yes. And he’d deliver the letter to your doorstep to then patiently wait for your response.

“Did ya already get this one?“, you asked. Deciding to use the break in between downpours Kita had suggested to do some pruning in your veggie patch. The soil was soaked and muddy but the stone plates he had laid down a few weeks ago kept both of you from sinking in.

He smiled and nodded, working on the tomato plants while you went over to trim the superfluous sprouts from the bell peppers. He noticed some days ago that you had started to use his dialect in a few words here and there and every time it happened, his stomach did a little somersault.

“Thank you, by the way. For everything else, too.“, you said suddenly. He looked at you for a moment before continuing his task.

“Don‘t worry about it. It‘s not a big deal.“

“I don‘t just mean the pruning. I mean everything. It‘s a huge deal!“, you exclaimed, “You helped me with my garden, I don‘t know what you did to that realtor but I got compensation for the leaky roof and a whole handwritten apology letter. You give me advice, share your phenomenal produce for free, built me a planter, fixed my roof“, you gave a nervous chuckle while he blushed at the list of your appreciation, “and you mean to tell me none of that is a big deal?“

“Because they‘re only natural when ya love someone.“, he shrugged and froze a moment later mid-snip when he realized what he had just said.

“What?“

“I…“

“You… you love me?“

He took a deep silent breath. “Well… yeah.“, he then said in a tone as if confirming the sky was blue, “I thought it was rather obvious.“

When you didn‘t respond, he went back to pruning, trying to exude his usual air of calm but his heart pounded in his chest. There it was. And you didn‘t say anything. So you didn‘t feel the same after all. But at least it was out now. He examined the leaf of a momotaro tomato when he felt your hand on his cheek, turning his head to you. His eyes widened when your lips touched his. Short at first. You looked at him, probably waiting for a reaction, then leaned in again.

Kita squeezed his eyes shut to drown out the rushing sound in his ears. With trembling hands he needed two attempts to get the gloves off his hands so he could cup your cheeks and pull you closer.

a/n: This is truly everything I love 😌 I loved writing it! The next part will be spicy so if you’d rather keep this story sfw this is where the “important plot” ends 🌟

art: coloring done by @keiko-chan

[part 4]

[pastelvelvett]

Aaaa I'm so sorry it took so long But here it is, a Yandere!Harvey x reader, as requested by the lovely @lucienbarkbark! Also, hope everyone's having a great pride month!! I may or may not be preparing a lil something for that, who knows 👉👈

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Yandere!Harvey x Gn!Sick!Reader

You and Harvey have been pretty close lately, that was clear as day. Despite Harvey normally being the reserved sort, it took a very small amount of time for him to warm up to you. What once was awkward small talk evolved to discussing topics that were a bit deeper than just commenting on the weather. Often, you'd talk about eachother's lives over a hot cup of coffee, a drink Harvey apparently enjoyed quite a bit.

The more the both of you spent time together, the more attached the doctor would find himself to you. The more details he had about your past life in the city, your life right now, and the things that you liked and disliked, the more he'd find himself hanging onto every word you spoke. While Harvey definitely had a good memory, knowing so many facts about one person was definitely unusual for him. He loved everything about you, so much so that he memorized every single thing you divulged to him without even trying.

Hanging out together after Harvey's work hours became a daily ritual of sorts, one that he woke up every day deeply excited for. So you can imagine how he felt when for the first time in weeks, you weren't there in front of his clinic door waiting for him to exit. His first instinct was to worry, but he was able to calm himself down relatively easily. It was true you were always there at 3PM sharp, but it would be silly to assume something bad happened to you just because you're a little late this time around. You were a busy person, maybe you just didn't finish your work for the day yet. That seemed like a reasonable possibility to him.

But as the minutes passed, his concern grew, eventually to the point that he was such a bundle of nerves that he had to go over to your farm to check if you were okay. As much as he wanted to stay calm, all that he could think about were the nearly infinite possibilities of what could've happened to you, and a lot of the ones he could think of were pretty far on the grim side. A part of him still knew full well that he was probably just overreacting, but the slightest possibility of you being hurt was too much for him to handle.

Harvey, with heart beating at an accelerated rhythm, shakily knocked at your wooden door. Much to his relief, he heard your voice from inside. Even though he did think your voice was slightly hoarse, all he could think about was how relieved he was you were okay, perfectly safe inside your home.

"Come in!" You said. Harvey didn't hesitate to, eager to see you after the maybe (definitely) disproportionate scare he just had. Once he opened the door to your farmhouse, he was quick to spot you laying in bed, snuggled into you blanket. A blush dusted his cheeks, finding the image adorable. He felt like seeing you comforted him even more than hearing you did. Now that he was calmer, he pretty easily noticed that your nose had reddish hue and that you were sniffling every so often. 'Ah... So you had a cold, that's why they didn't come.' Harvey thought to himself.

"Y/N! Hi! Ahah... It's a bit embarassing, but I was a bit worried about you, you know?" Harvey awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. You greeted him cheerfully, motioning towards your chair with a smile. Until that moment he was awkwardly standing in front of the exit, feeling like coming further inside without instruction from you could possibly be rude. Another thing he overthought, it seemed. He sat himself in your comfortable chair, noticing how your pretty lips formed a frown as you ruminated on his words.

"Oh... I'm really sorry Harvey. I didn't mean to worry you. Honestly, I kinda lost the track of time... I've been really sick since yesterday, my head's a lil hazy-" You explained, interrupted by your (admittedly very cute) sneeze. Harvey's brows knitted together, not really liking the fact that you implied that you were going to go out in your current state if only you didn't forget what time it was.

"You don't need to apologize. I'm just glad nothing bad happened to you." Harvey let out a sigh. You were too kind and considerate even when you didn't have to be. "...Besides, it really wouldn't have been a good idea to go out when you have a cold. You need all the rest you can get." Without realizing it, he switched to the tone he'd normally use when talking to patients about their health, this resulting in a lighthearted chuckle from you. He looked down in your directiin, puzzled as to why you were laughing.

"Nothing, just that... You turned on doctor mode there. You're real cute, Harv, you know that?" The nickname you've never used before plus the unexpected compliment equaled a very, very flustered Harvey. His cheeks set ablaze, trying to fumble his way through forming a sentence to very poor results. "T-Thanks... I think...? Gosh, don't say stuff like that. You're going to make me even redder than your face is right now." He breathed in to calm himself down. "Speaking of which..." The brown haired man got up from his seat, walking up to the bed with a straight face. When Harvey pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, in awe at how smooth, and incredibly hot, your face felt. He found himself melting at the contact, and maybe he would've lost himself in it if your temperature wasn't so concerning. He was sure that if he held his hand on your forehead for much longer than it would literally melt him aswell as figuratively.

"Gah, you're hot so hot...! A-Ah, wait, no I mean- In the temperature sense, of course. Not that you're not just-" Thankfully for Harvey, you mercifully cut him off, assuring him that you understood what he meant from the get-go. "R-Right. Well..." Harvey cleared his throat, removing his hand from your forehead and straightening his back. "Do you have any paracetamol? Or anything else that could help with your fever?" You shook your head no. "Okay, I'll have to bring you some then!"

"Only if you're quick. I'll miss you too much." You gave Harvey a playful grin. He really wasn't sure if you teasing him like this was only meant as playful banter, or a sign that he wouldn't irreparably screw things up if he went and told you how he felt. But that was something he didn't want to linger on in that moment. He had to take care of you, afterall. Harvey gave you nod and a smile, turning towards the door. But before he could walk off he heard your voice again. "Wait! Would... Would it be okay if you stayed over a bit to make me some soup? You told me before that you're really good at cooking, and I've been really excited to try it out! Sorry if it's rude of me to ask you instead of you offering..." Harvey's heart skipped at your request, feeling the slightest bit nervous at the prospect of you tasting his cooking.

"Ah, not at all. You're sick. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't at least treat you with some soup?" And with that, he began preparing you your food. Sounds of chatter between you and Harvey mixed in with that of cutting vegetables and stirring. It was a comfortable, intimate atmosphere. It made Harvey imagine how it would be like to live with you and have this dynamic every single day. He couldn't help but be excited for the future. Maybe he was just convincing himself everything would turn over well because not having the future he imagined wouldn't be something he could handle. He didn't know for sure, but in that moment what was once worry turned into (perhaps misplaced) confidence that things would go over well. All he had to do was find the right time, you'd understand him and feel the same.

As the minutes passed, your conversatiin fizzled out into an equally comfortable silence. When Harvey announced that he finished your meal with an excited tone he expected some sort of response from you, but confusingly enough, he didn't receive any. With brows furrowed, he turned his head in your direction. His brown eyes first fell on your closed ones, then your slightly agape lips, and lastly your chest that rose and fell at a steady rhythm. Your peaceful sleeping face was a sight for sore eyes. You worked so tirelessly on a daily basis, and while he knew you enjoyed what you did, he couldn't help but be worried about you constantly. As much as he admired your determination, overworking yourself like that clearly didn't do any wonders for your health. He sighed, wishing you could listen to your body just a little more often.

Harvey left the bowl of soup where it was, deciding he would heat it up for you once you woke up. He took the opportunity to bring you the meds he was planning to bring, placing them on the end table next to your bed with a cup of water. Something he didn't really plan to bring alongside the medicine but ended up bringing anyway was his trusty camera. He knew it wasn't right. There was no way you would be okay with him taking pictures of you while you were asleep, and he knew that him aknowledging but still doing it made him an even worse person. But by Yoba, he couldn't help it. He wanted, and felt like he needed, to keep seeing your sleeping face even tonight after he'd go home. Waking up next to you could be a far future, and he wanted to have you with him while he slept in some way. After he was done taking several pictures from multiple angles, he stuffed the camera in his pocket. He really, really hoped you would never find out about this. Because he loved you more than anything and anyone, and he wanted you to feel the same more than anything.

[astarion-can-spawn-me]

Work Ethic

Park Ranger! Halsin x Park Ranger!Reader

Modern!Au because why the hell not?

Summary: may or may not have been heavily inspired by the park rangers I grew up around at my local culture center. That little old place holds such a special place in my heart. I am a junior park ranger after all 😎

Sweat beaded at your brow, but your hand was quick to delicately pat it away. The summers were unforgiving, even under the gray skies of the early morning. Though you could see off to the distance, just peeking over the green tree tops and old buildings of the past, just the faintest hues of orange and reds just ready to burst from beyond their little horizon. With the rays came the few farmers that lived within the small town, bidding their wives and children goodbye, the faint yelping of a dog from behind their glass windows are their happy panting as they hopped up along side their masters in their pick up. They would only have to drive a few miles further up a ways to hit their farms where they have been settled for the past 100 years or so.

It was an odd place to have a little culture center in such a small town, but a small town emblazoned with their own culture and tradition. Old murals adorned the sides of old buildings, depicting musicians and food. Though many of the locals didn’t visit the culture center, maybe occasionally for their child’s school field trip, it definitely didn’t see the action of it’s sister centers in the bigger cities nearby, but around certain holidays it would see it’s fair share of tourist, but now it was just another simple day.

This was far away from what you thought a park ranger would ever be doing. You always pictured a Steve Irwin type herding people through muddy river basins or through rough and rocky terrain along forest trails. You’ve come to appreciate the cultural and historical aspect of it all, it was probably for the best.

“Oh this stupid damned thing!” Huffed out a voice as you pushed past the glass doors. A thud came after it as a woman scrunched her face to the old thermostat. “You would think they would allow us to control our own AC instead of having to call the head office!”

“Now Ms.Jaheira, patience is a virtue!” You teased, your hat now being placed upon your head, fingers pinning the badge to your freshly ironed shirt.

Jaheira was a veteran in the field, hopping from one national park to the next. Her knowledge was admirable, but sometimes you would always catch the look of longing in those wise eyes, but the laid back nature suited her, at least now it did. It was less of a burden on her weathered shoulders, less pressure upon herself. If you did have to categorize her, she would have been the Steve Irwin type you always imagined as a child. She was the one to hobble through muddy basins and conquer rough woodland trails.

“Well good thing the all maker has bestowed such a prized gift onto you!” She chimed up, finally the ancient AC humming to life. Already the cool air began cutting through the stiff air like a knife. “It’s field trip day, remember”

She was already following you to the break room, her steps always precise, always made with confidence. Though she still gave you a stern look as your head tilted back with a little groan as you tossed your purse onto the table.

“Yes I know, which is why I have double checked with everyone today. Musicians are gonna be the first for their music demonstration. Then our local butcher has kindly volunteered for a cooking demonstration and you would be pleased that he is exonerated in one of our local dishes” your hand went to grab the phone out of your pants pocket, now scrolling through emails to double check your memory of the day’s itinerary. “Then dear old Elminster will calm things down with his history of the area and whatnot, then lunch time which has been donated. I also contacted wildlife and fisheries to have someone teach the kids the laws and safe handling of the wild life of the area, but they said they are sending over a ranger from one of the wildlife parks….oh! And then the old woman who runs the quilting club in the spare room will give a weaving lesson”

“Wow, I’m impressed” Jaheira said with a raise of her brows, a hand sassily placed upon her hip. “And you will be pleased to know I have set up the rooms for the different demonstrations, the band is here, Elminster is currently critiquing our displays, and the food preparations are all in order” she confirmed with you. Always orderly, you can always trust her to keep everything in line as well. A nice pair the two of your made. “It’s just our fellow park ranger we are waiting on…” she huffed out as she looked to the watch upon her wrist.

There was no time to worry about that, as the quiet humming of engines were already heard within the small break room. The wholesome sounds of buses, the chirping of kids and their teachers already urging them to quiet down. That was Jaheira’s cue to walk back to the front, opening the doors, that prideful smile upon her face as she greeted the children, their small bodies already pouring into the room, her voice already rising above all others to give off the usual spiel.

“Alright children! Are you ready to learn about your culture and history!’ She shouted excitedly to the children, already leading the group to the displays that lined the halls and little rooms, skillfully giving her explanations to the group of kids.

It left you to round up the musicians into their places, checking in on the cooking demonstrator, but of course…that left Elminster.

“Stop a bit and speak to an old man” he huffed out behind that wise, old beard of his as he clutched a shaky hand onto your outstretch arm.

“Maybe later Mr.Elminster, there’s a lot to do as you know” you said with a smile as you began urging him to the room that the band was setting up. “The kids are going to listen to the music, then head to the cooking demonstration and then head back to you, so it will give you much to ponder of how you are gonna educate them” you spoke up as you lead him to the room, helping him sit upon one of the upholstered chair.

“You are certainly right my dear, even though getting older is suppose to make one wise, it is still hard to find that right words, especially on an empty stomach” he said with a wink, but you already knew what he was eluding to.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have Jaheira bring you a plate when they are done with the cooking demonstration for lunch” which he gave you a kind pat on your bent down shoulder, all the response you needed to straighten up from your hunched down position. Though you were met by a towering figure the moment you turned around.

“My apologies for being late, I kind of got lost out here…” the man was huge, strong stature. Scars on his face, tattoos peeking out from his collared shirt, trailing up upon his face. You were pretty certain even if you were standing further away from him, you could still pick up the scent of fresh dirt and leaves that permeated from him. Even the faintest scent of sweat, but not in a bad way, in an endearing way if that makes sense. Like the smell of a hard working father coming home to engulf his children in a hug.

“I’m sorry, you are….?” You trailed off as you bent your neck to look at him, eyes slightly squinting to the badge on his shirt.

“Park Ranger Halsin, wildlife and fisheries sent me out here for a demonstration, I use to work for them, but I ended up taking a position at the wildlife refuge at the coast” he explained, already following your steps as you began to lead him back to the entrance. He may have not known, but you were skillfully avoiding a tangent from the old Elminster. He may have been a wise man, but a wise man with many words that lead simply nowhere at times.

“Yes of course, let’s get you set up in our other demonstration room” you spoke out, now quickly following his lead to the glass doors. “And I don’t blame you, it may be a small city, but this place is tucked away, definitely not as grand as the other culture centers” you bashfully said as you followed him up to his truck, tailgate already being lifted down with those strong, calloused hands of his. You could even see the faintest traces of dirt on his hands.

“But still important none the less” he said with a soft smile as he reached into the back, already pulling forward boxes and strangely a pet carrier. You tried to slyly lean a bit to peak at what he could possibly have stored in there.

“Oh this is Philippe” he said, almost with a childlike excitement as he opened the pet carrier. Of all things you would have never expected a raccoon to lazy start reaching up for him. But he excepted the creature with open arms. “I uh…rescued him and he’s been with me ever since. Also a good way of showing off our native species.” those strong arms held the creature tenderly, like a father to his offspring.

“I can’t say I encounter raccoons that are companions.” You were astonished, fingers tenderly giving the animal’s head a little scratch. Though those hands of yours grabbed on of the boxes he pulled forward, Philippe already knowingly hopping upon the other one as Halsin grabbed it.

“They definitely shouldn’t be pets, I know that may sound hypocritical coming from me, but you know how raccoons like to wash their food before they eat it? Well I let him do it back home…and he got ahold of my cellphone too, so not a good mix. I also learned rice doesn’t really help with water logged phone either.” You knew the scornful look he gave the raccoon was all in playfulness, which made a little laugh bubble to your lips. You could already picture it in your head.

“Your dear Philippe sounds like a menace.” You giggled out as you pushed past the doors once more, he following after you through the gush of cold air that blew up to greet you from the comfort of the culture center. Your ears also perked up to the sounds of the lively music coming from one of the demonstration rooms, intertwined with laughter of the children.

“Well, he is still a wild animal at heart I suppose” he chimed, his heavy footsteps following you to the empty demonstration room, his box being set upon the table set up front, already laying out his items.

Different pressed leaves now displayed out, the branches of different native plants. All the works of what’s was very befitting of a park ranger who dealt with the more wild side of the job description. He even had animal traps out as well.

“Alright, I’ll give you a rundown. I’m gonna inform the kids of different plants in the area, which ones are safe and not safe, native and common animals, insects, birds. I will also go over safety, why I have the animal traps.” He explained as he motioned to all the stuff he had set out. “Even though they should always be supervised while out in forested areas, it is still better to be able to recognize traps that farmers could set up for coyotes and bobcats and know not to touch them.” He listed off as he squatted down to once again cradle the raccoon in his arms, the raccoon lazily accepting his fate in the comfortable embrace. Now that the fast paced introduction was over, you could finally admire the man before you.

Yes he was tall and strong, but attractive. His hair whisped about his shoulders. A braid or two peaking out and adorned with thin pieces of colorful thread and an occasional decorative bead. Even having such an intimidating stature, those eyes were kind and gentle. Almost as if you were starring into the eyes of a farmers most trusted companion, his loyal dog. Those scars upon his face couldn’t diminish that softness.

But his shirt….you could see those well earned muscles bulge beneath that gray uniform shirt. Who knew those frumpy uniforms could look so flattering. You didn’t let your fleeting eyes linger for too long as you connected your gaze with his again.

“Well I’ll leave you to finish setting up, but I’m sure the kids will enjoy dear old Philippe, I’ll send the group over after the cooking demonstration, I can try and push back Elminster after everyone has eaten, maybe it will help him be better with his words.” You couldn’t help but give a little huff of a small laugh at your own little joke, even if he did not understand quite yet himself, but he only nodded, that kind smile still upon those lips.

“Me and Philippe will be waiting happily” he said, motioning to the raccoon whose head simply lulled lazily about. Such a pampered and spoiled creature, you could tell he was lovingly cared and doted on.

Elminster was delighted by the news once you quietly reported back to him when the kids had all migrated to the cooking demonstration room. So your little hunch about him wanting to eat first was correct.

“So…I see our fellow park ranger is quite the sight…” Jaheira spoke out quietly to you from the back of the food demonstration room, arms crossed over her chest. “The scars may be a dead giveaway from at least having something to do with the great wild, but tattoos? That would have thrown me off…”

“Oh I know, I honestly didn’t have much time to ponder over that when he first got here…” which was true, wasn’t something you saw everyday, not even from the culture centers in the bigger cities. “But it gives that rough edge, should excite the kids more. They might be slightly disappointed when he actually begins to speak, he is quite soft spoken.”

“Interesting…” was all she managed to say before she stepped forward to chime into the demonstration. You and Jaheira switched off though, she fixed herself and wise Elminster a plate for their little lunch, tucking away back in the break room to enjoy their meal as you beckoned the kids to where Halsin waited.

Their excited eyes upon seeing the raccoon brought a dumb smile to your face as your looked to their excited faces as they all sat down, all sitting at their edge of their seat.

Honestly it was all quite interesting, watching Ranger Halsin expertly explain everything, to simple ways to tell the difference between leaves, to why a plant was named whatever it was named. Even to the animal traps, you couldn’t help but almost have the same wide eyed expression as he would set them off and warn them of their dangerous nature and explaining that it was important to always stay away from them an such.

And of course, can’t forget about Philippe who got all the loving he needed for at least a month. By the end of the day he would probably want his own space even from his master’s arms.

Sadly the kids were beckoned off for lunch, giving the last goodbye to Philippe, but their sadness was quickly forgotten by the food that was now being provided to fill those stomachs. That left you carrying a plate to the break room, where Halsin now sat, Philippe away eating his own meal at his feet. The Ranger gladly took the plate, you now sitting across from him.

“I forget how it is, you know, dealing with children, I miss their excitement and hunger for knowledge…” he spoke up, voice almost rumbling in the small break room.

“Must be a different pace from what you are use to” you chimed up, handing him a napkin, which he also accepted.

“Indeed, but I prefer this, adults can be cruel. Their egos get in the way of everything…” a soft frown pulled at his lips, but it was quickly washed away with a bite of food. “They always venture off, get lost, put themselves in danger, never eager to learn. Children on the other hand, they devour everything that is told to them.”

“Plus this place is also charming, believe it or not, I come from an even more rural place than this” he spoke, a sense of nostalgia dripping off his words “nothing but swamps and forest for miles…”

“Then it makes sense why you are in this profession” you said as you began eating.

“Well I started off in wildlife and fisheries, but it became too much. Hunting season is the worst to deal with. Neighbors get mad about who is hunting where. Poachers…god the poachers. But park ranger life is more befitting, I find it better to teach rather than deal with petty wildlife disputes.“ you knew about those disputes all too well, sometimes you would hear about those petty disputes in the local grocery store between old farmers or just the locals gossiping about someone they knew.

“Well it all is a bit different than what we deal with here. Our other ranger Jaheira has more experience with wildlife. I didn’t get much of a chance to, but I learned to find this outlet satisfying.” You admitted as you pushed your plate aside, hands now removing your hat. Halsin followed your move. It was like you could now finally see his face fully, but it was not a disappointment, not at all.

“We do forget that history is also very important, remember, you are the back bone in the preservation of history and that needs just the same amount of importance as wildlife, even if history may have not been so kind to it.” Halsin had such a way with words, voice speaking them so smoothly, he was seeming to hold a much greater wisdom than Elminster, who you could faintly hear drowning on and on about traditions and all stories. You can already picture those school children comforted by food just fighting the sleep that wanted to take over their senses.

“You are definitely right about that..” your head could only picture the old photos of the town you reside in, how those old photos showed a spread out community with so many fields in between. Now it was only pothole filled roads with shady patch jobs, small town lawyers offices, and an occasional fast food joint.

Humanity at its finest.

Something about the way he looked at you, it made you almost bashful. An intense stare, endearing, and comforting all at once. You could feel a wave of multiple sensations travel up your spine in a shiver. All you could do was fiddle with the napkin that sat in front of you, struggling to find the right words to piece together in your mind.

“Are you free? This weekend?” He finally spoke up “I mean tomorrow, I’m sorry if I come off as strong” he finally managed out, honeyed words now seeming to be nervous. “But, I would like to take you to the refuge I work at, I finally got my boat fixed up.” His fingers were now the ones fiddling. Though you can only smile as you nodded your head.

“Yes I would love to” and with that, a number exchange was made and a timid goodbye was bid as he loaded up the last of his things, tailgate making its way down that old town road.

“A date at a refuge huh?” Jaheira’s voice almost startled you from your trance of staring out the door, the culture center now quiet and still, now almsot seeming empty and lonely from the once lively state it was in.

“Oh hush….” You dumbly muttered out as you began to straighten everything up. There was no mistaking that soft hint of pink upon your cheeks.

The nervousness only set in until that morning when you could only stare at yourself in the standing mirror in your room, poking and prodding at the old clothes you decided on. There was no use in wearing something nice if you were going to spend time on a boat. You were cut short from your worrisome glances in the mirror as you heard an engine rumble again from outside your quaint little home, already rushing to the front door to close and lock it.

Halsin was gorgeous, those early morning rays of sun doing him justice as he stepped down from that old pickup truck that was covered in a layer of first, boat already hooked up to the hitch. Handsome in his own clothes, wrinkle, stain, and all. Hell you didn’t even mind the thin layer of mud that caked the heels of his boots. Though quick good mornings were said as he helped you into the passenger seat, soon leaving a trail of dust behind.

It was peaceful, the morning sun shining down through the windows and soft music playing through the radio, the wind from the rolled down windows whipping your hair about and his. The smell of dirt and forestry strong within the interior of the truck, but that was probably due to the fur leaves and crumbs of dirt that peskily made their stay on the floor, embedded into the mats of his truck. It was nice, even when the dirt scented air turned into the consolidating smell of muggy marsh as the refuge finally rolled into view you appreciated it.

Soon your hair was whipping with the winds that blew by once upon the boat, the hum of the motor steadily humming, the soft solaces of the waters rolling by refreshing on your face and exposed arms. You couldn’t help but reach out and run your fingers upon the wild rice that made their homestead on the steep banks that rolled by. The boat came to steady stop , Halsin leant back next to the motor, glancing down to the murky waters below.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been here…” you spoke out softly as you also looked to the waters below, watching the adolescent fish ripple the surface in their young curiosity, but would quickly dive down deep into those waters if a shadow would move too quickly. “I use to come all the time when I was younger.” You finally looked up and over to Halsin, who was now looking to you with that soft smile.

“Same here, it’s what pushed me in this direction in life.” His own words were also soft, as if not to disturbed the surroundings around you. “Growing up I would wake at the crack of dawn to walk along the waters, to drag my little row boat out. The rangers would always call my parents to let them know where I was, they always took me in to respite myself in their little station, showing me the things they found. Their passion ignited a life changing revelation for me.”

“Agreed, but once again, it lead me down a completely different route, but now that I think about it, I may have been life telling me I was needed else where. A gentle nudge showing me that I’m probably not cut out with dealing with lost folks along riverbeds and trails.” You joked, Halsin’s laughter joining your own.

“Like I said, it’s definitely not fun.” He added with a grin, now moving from his spot next to the motor to be closer to you, hefty body shaking the boat gently, disturbing the waters that had finally calmed down from your arrival. His hand was rummaging in the beat up ice chest that now was situated next to him, handing you a chilled canteen of water “But, it was a better fit, being a wildlife officer made me forget about the simplicity of nature, the calmness of it.”

The calmness of nature, but you couldn’t decide if it was nature itself that was the calm one, or Halsin’s gentle touch to the land doing the calming for it.

The day was spent laughing and sharing stories of nostalgia, of work, of life. You found the muscles in your cheeks hurting from the permanent smile upon your face as the two of you listened to each other intently with care. It was almost a shame when he rolled you back up to your house, that morning glow now replaced with the setting sun, everyone basked in a dark orange hue, but you didn’t mind, that color gave you a since of fulfillment as you took his calloused hand in yours as he helped you down back to solid land.

“Thank you for joining me, I really enjoyed your company” he softly spoke out, that intense stare now locked onto your own, but this time it was bashful, but that shiver of emotions traveled up your spine nonetheless.

The same could be said for him as that calloused hand still gingerly held onto yours.

“I did as well…” you felt dumb as that’s all you could say, that stare almost halting your thoughts, sending your mind into blankness, that hand of his sending a burning sensation through your fingers.

“If you don’t mind maybe we could….do this again?” He spoke out hopefully, those eyebrows furrowed together to match that hopefulness that dropped from his words.

“I would love to, maybe you can even visit here…?”

“Yes, I would love that….”

[pastelvelvett-2nd]

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Post info

♡ Word count: 1,716

♡ Post type: x reader

♡ Taste: Fluffy Treat

♡ Reader pronouns: GN

! Please read the tags for tws!

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Yandere!Harvey x Sick!Reader

You and Harvey have been pretty close lately, that was clear as day. Despite Harvey normally being the reserved sort, it took a very small amount of time for him to warm up to you. What once was awkward small talk evolved to discussing topics that were a bit deeper than just commenting on the weather. Often, you'd talk about eachother's lives over a hot cup of coffee, a drink Harvey apparently enjoyed quite a bit. The more the both of you spent time together, the more attached the doctor would find himself to you. The more details he had about your past life in the city, your life right now, and the things that you liked and disliked, the more he'd find himself hanging onto every word you spoke. While Harvey definitely had a good memory, knowing so many facts about one person was definitely unusual for him. He loved everything about you, so much so that he memorized every single thing you divulged to him without even trying.

Hanging out together after Harvey's work hours became a daily ritual of sorts, one that he woke up every day deeply excited for. So you can imagine how he felt when for the first time in weeks, you weren't there in front of his clinic door waiting for him to exit. His first instinct was to worry, but he was able to calm himself down relatively easily. It was true you were always there at 3PM sharp, but it would be silly to assume something bad happened to you just because you're a little late this time around. You were a busy person, maybe you just didn't finish your work for the day yet. That seemed like a reasonable possibility to him. But as the minutes passed, his concern grew, eventually to the point that he was such a bundle of nerves that he had to go over to your farm to check if you were okay. As much as he wanted to stay calm, all that he could think about were the nearly infinite possibilities of what could've happened to you, and a lot of the ones he could think of were pretty far on the grim side. A part of him still knew full well that he was probably just overreacting, but the slightest possibility of you being hurt was too much for him to handle.

Harvey, with heart beating at an accelerated rhythm, shakily knocked at your wooden door. Much to his relief, he heard your voice from inside. Even though he did think your voice was slightly hoarse, all he could think about was how relieved he was you were okay, perfectly safe inside your home.

"Come in!" You said. Harvey didn't hesitate to, eager to see you after the maybe (definitely) disproportionate scare he just had. Once he opened the door to your farmhouse, he was quick to spot you laying in bed, snuggled into you blanket. A blush dusted his cheeks, finding the image adorable. He felt like seeing you comforted him even more than hearing you did. Now that he was calmer, he pretty easily noticed that your nose had reddish hue and that you were sniffling every so often. 'Ah... So you had a cold, that's why they didn't come.' Harvey thought to himself.

"Y/N! Hi! Ahah... It's a bit embarassing, but I was a bit worried about you, you know?" Harvey awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. You greeted him cheerfully, motioning towards your chair with a smile. Until that moment he was awkwardly standing in front of the exit, feeling like coming further inside without instruction from you could possibly be rude. Another thing he overthought, it seemed. He sat himself in your comfortable chair, noticing how your pretty lips formed a frown as you ruminated on his words.

"Oh... I'm really sorry Harvey. I didn't mean to worry you. Honestly, I kinda lost the track of time... I've been really sick since yesterday, my head's a lil hazy-" You explained, interrupted by your (admittedly very cute) sneeze. Harvey's brows knitted together, not really liking the fact that you implied that you were going to go out in your current state if only you didn't forget what time it was.

"You don't need to apologize. I'm just glad nothing bad happened to you." Harvey let out a sigh. You were too kind and considerate even when you didn't have to be. "...Besides, it really wouldn't have been a good idea to go out when you have a cold. You need all the rest you can get." Without realizing it, he switched to the tone he'd normally use when talking to patients about their health, this resulting in a lighthearted chuckle from you. He looked down in your directiin, puzzled as to why you were laughing.

"Nothing, just that... You turned on doctor mode there. You're real cute, Harv, you know that?" The nickname you've never used before plus the unexpected compliment equaled a very, very flustered Harvey. His cheeks set ablaze, trying to fumble his way through forming a sentence to very poor results. "T-Thanks... I think...? Gosh, don't say stuff like that. You're going to make me even redder than your face is right now." He breathed in to calm himself down. "Speaking of which..." The brown haired man got up from his seat, walking up to the bed with a straight face. When Harvey pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, in awe at how smooth, and incredibly hot, your face felt. He found himself melting at the contact, and maybe he would've lost himself in it if your temperature wasn't so concerning. He was sure that if he held his hand on your forehead for much longer than it would literally melt him aswell as figuratively.

"Gah, you're so hot...! A-Ah, wait, no I mean- In the temperature sense, of course. Not that you're not just-" Thankfully for Harvey, you mercifully cut him off, assuring him that you understood what he meant from the get-go. "R-Right. Well..." Harvey cleared his throat, removing his hand from your forehead and straightening his back. "Do you have any paracetamol? Or anything else that could help with your fever?" You shook your head no. "Okay, I'll have to bring you some then!"

"Only if you're quick. I'll miss you too much." You gave Harvey a playful grin. He really wasn't sure if you teasing him like this was only meant as playful banter, or a sign that he wouldn't irreparably screw things up if he went and told you how he felt. But that was something he didn't want to linger on in that moment. He had to take care of you, afterall. Harvey gave you nod and a smile, turning towards the door. But before he could walk off he heard your voice again. "Wait! Would... Would it be okay if you stayed over a bit to make me some soup? You told me before that you're really good at cooking, and I've been really excited to try it out! Sorry if it's rude of me to ask you instead of you offering..." Harvey's heart skipped at your request, feeling the slightest bit nervous at the prospect of you tasting his cooking.

"Ah, not at all. You're sick. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't at least treat you with some soup?" And with that, he began preparing you your food. Sounds of chatter between you and Harvey mixed in with that of cutting vegetables and stirring. It was a comfortable, intimate atmosphere. It made Harvey imagine how it would be like to live with you and have this dynamic every single day. He couldn't help but be excited for the future. Maybe he was just convincing himself everything would turn over well because not having the future he imagined wouldn't be something he could handle. He didn't know for sure, but in that moment what was once worry turned into (perhaps misplaced) confidence that things would go over well. All he had to do was find the right time, you'd understand him and feel the same.

As the minutes passed, your conversation fizzled out into an equally comfortable silence. When Harvey announced that he finished your meal with an excited tone he expected some sort of response from you, but confusingly enough, he didn't receive any. With brows furrowed, he turned his head in your direction. His brown eyes first fell on your closed ones, then your slightly agape lips, and lastly your chest that rose and fell at a steady rhythm. Your peaceful sleeping face was a sight for sore eyes. You worked so tirelessly on a daily basis, and while he knew you enjoyed what you did, he couldn't help but be worried about you constantly. As much as he admired your determination, overworking yourself like that clearly didn't do any wonders for your health. He sighed, wishing you could listen to your body just a little more often.

Harvey left the bowl of soup where it was, deciding he would heat it up for you once you woke up. He took the opportunity to bring you the meds he was planning to bring, placing them on the end table next to your bed with a cup of water. Something he didn't really plan to bring alongside the medicine but ended up bringing anyway was his trusty camera. He knew it wasn't right. There was no way you would be okay with him taking pictures of you while you were asleep, and he knew that him aknowledging but still doing it made him an even worse person. But by Yoba, he couldn't help it. He wanted, and felt like he needed, to keep seeing your sleeping face even tonight after he'd go home. Waking up next to you could be a far future, and he wanted to have you with him while he slept in some way. After he was done taking several pictures from multiple angles, he stuffed the camera in his pocket. He really, really hoped you would never find out about this. Because he loved you more than anything and anyone, and he wanted you to feel the same more than anything.

[pygmalionsmarble]

Jimchi

My grandmother passed away, maybe 8 years ago. Has it been a long time? Or do I just not care enough to remember the exact time that has passed since her passing? I think more likely than not, I have been avoiding it.

My grandmother lived estranged from me. My parents moved to America to make a better life for themselves, leaving their old lives, including my grandma, in a country nearly 7,000 miles away. After my birth in America, every 4 years I traveled to my motherland and was forced to meet my grandmother again. And every time, even though I grew in ways that made me irrevocably different from when she last saw me, she still recognized me. She gave me the widest, creasiest grin, which I remember thinking made her uglier. She would clasp my hands, which much bigger and ganglier than mine, and I took note with a hint of disgust of how her hands felt more weathered than the last time I held them. She stuffed me food that I didn’t like: “pass him the jimchi— he’s growing so he needs to eat a lot”. I inwardly sneered at the way she pronounced kimchi. I thought that it made her sound so uneducated and uncouth.

I remember the last time I saw my grandmother. She was in the hospital, with seemingly millions of tubes protruding from her arms, her torso, her mouth. I remember before she was fully admitted to the hospital, our family had a final meal with her—her favorite food, since she wouldn’t be able to eat real food anymore. And even though I can’t remember what we ate, I remember wishing that she had chosen something a little more appealing to my taste. It felt like she was always feeding me food that I didn’t like.

When my grandmother passed away, I saw my dad with tears silently staining his red eyes. My dad was a figure of power, the immutable and unstaggering rock of my family. Seeing the person that I believed to be the strongest existence in the world look so feeble shook me to my core. I loudly shed tears. Not because I was sad, but because I believed that was what was expected of me. I remember feeling a pit in my stomach as I wailed, from guilt, from shame, from fear of being “found out”.

This guilt lived on with me for many years. I often questioned how it was that I could cry so fervently about people in movies that didn’t exist in real life, but how I couldn’t grieve my own grandmother. This guilt became a part of me, time trudged forward, and the details of my grandmother and her passing subconsciously was pushed further and further into the back of my mind.

Tonight, at dinner, my dad asked me to pass the “jimchi”. The word was uttered in a fleeting moment in the tumbling flow of his request to pass him food. Most people would have missed it. But to me, hearing that j instead of the k made me think of my grandmother. My grandmother with her rough hands from countless hours of farm work to care for her children and buy her grandson some snacks. My grandmother with her wrinkled grin, her mouth lines creased with age and happiness from seeing me. My grandmother who, at her last meal, sat next to me and made sure I ate all my food because it was healthy. Did she choose her last meal for herself, or was she thinking about me till the end?

As I write this, I am shedding the tears that young me felt like I should have shed all those years ago when she first passed. But more than sadness from her passing, or regret that I could only see her surface-level ugliness in my immaturity, I feel a deep love. My grandmother’s love lives on in the speech of my father, her habit of saying “jimchi” being something that he picked up from her feeding him the same way she fed me. Jimchi being a word that will always remind me of my grandmother, her sacrifices, and her love.

[swedethings]

Autumn Questionaire

Favorite thing about autumn?

"I love to watch the leaves change their colors. Autumn is such a peaceful time of year, even if it is starting to get darker och colder. I do not do well in the sun; så I look forward to the change in the weather... Plus my birthday as well as my son's birthday is in autumn!"

Spooky autumn or cozy autumn?

"Cozy. I never understood why people like spooky things."

Haunted house or Halloween party?

"Is neither an option?"

Carve pumpkins or paint pumpkins?

"I would normally say carving pumpkins; men with a toddler, I think painting pumpkins sounds better. There are no sharp objects for my son to hurt himself."

Go apple picking or go on a hay ride?

"I have never been on a hayride; så I think I have to say apple picking by default. I do love apples this time of year."

Pumpkin spice lattes or mulled apple cider?

"Mulled apple cider... Apples are delicious. Pumpkins are not."

What did you dress up for Halloween last year?

"We do not typically 'dress-up' for Halloween back in Sweden. The last time I dressed up for Halloween was during my exchange year back in high school. My costume was a poorly designed attempt at Snufkin."

Falling rain or a crackling fireplace?

"A crackling fireplace. That reminds me of sitting in the lodge after a day of skiing with a warm mug of hot chocolate in my lap... We can ski in autumn some places in Sweden."

Have you purchased any fall decor yet?

"Not yet... But I have plans to visit Maggie at the Apothecary och get some decorations."

Favorite photo that you took last autumn?

Favorite autumn-themed movie?

"Does 'Höstsonaten' count?"

Favorite color to wear in autumn?

"I always thought that mustard yellow color was nice. I have several sweaters with that color; och they look very nice in the autumn with the background of the changing leaves."

Favorite autumn-themed book?

"Because of the title, can we count 'Autumn' by Karl Ove Knausgaard?"

Best way to spend a rainy day?

"This will make me sound like such a mamma: rainy days are great days to build a giant world with train tracks och watch my son play with his trains for hours... Also, rainy days are great days for baking."

Favorite autumn food?

"This may be strange; but my favorite autumn food is falu sausages. There was a local farm near where I grew up that had the best smoked sausages every autumn."

Favorite autumn quote?

"'Det finns inget dåligt väder, bara dåliga kläder'... Good for any season."

Favorite autumn activity?

"This will make me sound like such a mamma again: I honestly love planning for my son's birthday at the beginning of November. That has quickly become my favorite autumn activity."

Favorite autumn scent?

"A freshly baked cinnamon apple crisp."

Is your birthday in autumn?

"Japp! My birthday is the 7th of November."

[thaoilations]

set a few years after usual cowboy stories.

Mimi grew to enjoy the sound of crickets. That constant humming sound, chirping away in the unrelenting sun. She could hear it all the way from inside, so often that she’d just zone it out completely, a white noise soundtrack to her padding about the farm house occupied by the couple. It was big, a home that Mimi had only dreamt of, mostly due to all the renovations Thao had been busying herself with. Sometimes she’d be digging up a flower garden because Mimi had mentioned wanting one, or replacing the rotting wood of the barn that kept the animals, and plenty of other handyman stuff that Mimi had no knowledge of that Thao would busy herself with every single day. She had her mind set on it, she wanted to make it a perfectly liveable space, for Mimi — and the baby in her stomach.

Thao had gotten stricter since they had decided to have baby. Mimi was barely allowed out the farmhouse, too swollen, the weather too hot, the world too dangerous despite the privacy of their large land. She was five months along, due for an October baby — just like it’s mother. A girl, so they had discovered on the scan they had rode all the day into town for to see the doctor, a grainy image of the babies napping figure pinned up on the fridge. If Mimi was to so much as step a few feet outside the house, Thao would be squinting disapprovingly, coming over to shoo her inside.

“Too hot out here. Can come out later when the sun goes in.”

But the pregnant brunette was starting to get bored. There was only so many times she could brew tea, and make tweaks to the baby room, and try to knit. Thao was busy, always — until she’d come back in the evening, practically inhale the food left out by her wife, shower, come to lay beside her and only manage to keep up conversation for five minutes before dozing off— exhausted from the physical exertion of the day. Mimi appreciated it, all the hard work she was putting in — she really did. But she missed Thao, missed spending every minute together like they used to when they were on the road, she even missed Zach — who she barely got to see anymore because he was outside grazing the land where she wasn’t allowed with the other horse they’d acquired. She thought, maybe if she just helped get some of the work done — Thao would be finished sooner, and could spend more time with her again.

It was bright and early, the cockerel singing it’s sun song waking the faded-red head from her restful slumber. On any usual day, Mimi would barely stir at the sound, Thao waking up for the day to get some outside work done before the heat was too unbearable on her back. Today, with a plan — Mimi listened to her wake up, pulling her clothes on, felt the usual kiss on the forehead she’d receive before she’d head out, grabbing something to eat and her water bottle (Or Mimi would scold her and have to bring it to her) Once vacating the home, heading out onto the land in the cool sunrise, Mimi sat up carefully, waking herself up and rubbing her puffy eyes.

The hungry baby woke too, pressing it’s foot into her lower abdomen, kicking gently a few times to demand attention. “Okay baby, I hear you.” She sighed tiredly, tickling the skin stretched over where her foot would be. Names, still deciding on names — Mimi pondered as she brushed her teeth, hand still resting over the bump as she did so, belly globing her thin pale yellow pyjama set she’d acquired on a market when her regular ones stopped fitting her. What was the name Thao liked? Charlotte? “You think you could be a Charlotte?” Mimi tilted her head, asking herself in the mirror with the toothbrush still planted in her mouth, unsure how she felt about the name.

She fetched herself some breakfast, and by the time she had waddled back to the bedroom and changed into a thin white broderie dress, the sun was up fully. What would be an easy job that Mimi could get out the way? Something she knew how to do? She recalled the way Thao had mentioned in their before sleep talk that the weeds still needed pulling out to plant the rest of the seeds, and to the bloated wife it seemed like an doable job. She slipped her shoes on and opened the front door slowly, looking for any sign of the former cowgirl. Mimi breathed in, it was nice to be outside. She even didn’t mind the distant waft of manure that hadn’t yet been collected from the overnight haul. She walked along the wooden porch until the sun graced the crown of her head, standing on the first step down.

“You’re gonna have to help me out here, baby.” She spoke quietly to the little person nested inside her, her soft hands sliding beneath her bump and lifting it slightly to relieve her as she took the step down. She was glad Thao wasn’t watching her, she hated seeing Mimi going up and down the stairs. Luckily, it was easier to balance as her centre of gravity was so low and she plodded down carefully until the gravel crunched under her foot, leading her to where she needed to go.

She walked quietly, enjoying the feeling of the morning sun on her shoulders as she waddled along the pathway — unable to hear Thao nearby meaning she must have been up by the sheep gate tending to them. Mimi wished she’d let her feed the animals, atleast. It was an easy job and she liked to see them. She’d named one of the cows Maggie, a brown splotched creature with large kind eyes and the girl enjoyed going to speak with her, feeling as if she was listening. She also liked to visit the horses, giving a kiss to Zach and pressing flowers into the newer white horse, Twinkle’s mane.

She spotted the flower garden and smiled, seeing the border of flowers Thao had planted a month or so before in full bloom. She called them Mimi flowers because they were bright pink, the girl who was housebound not yet getting the chance to see them. She stepped through the gate, looking around at the beautiful baby flowers and pungent soil. She spotted the patch with entangled weeds sprouting from it and nodded decidedly, heading over and picking up the bucket with the tools left out by Thao.

“Okay.” Mimi strained, slowly bending at the knee, holding her stomach with her hand protectively as she lowered herself to the ground. Lifting the hand trowel from the bucket she brought it to the soil, digging in a little with some strain as she fought her way to the roots, digging and pulling out the first weed cluster. She blew out a puff of air, feeling her back start to get hot as she poured her diggings into another bucket. “Alright, that wasn’t so bad.” The girl leant forward, putting her weight into the heel of her hand, belly hanging as she shifted onto her knees and began raking out the next batch. She was just finding the rhythm of it, ignoring how it pained her back just ever so slightly. She sat back on her heels, scraping her hair up into a messy ponytail, the hairs at the nape of her neck sticking down, curly and sweaty from the heat. “Damn, s’warm out here.” She spoke quietly to her bump, before leaning over with the trowel again and beginning to yank out more weeds from its root. If she kept going like this, she’d be finished in no time and —

“Jamie.”

Oh boy, not Mimi — but her birth name. Not a question either. Not a ‘is that you?’. Thao’s voice held the cadence that was more ‘That better not be you’ than the former. The brunette sat back, struggling to turn around, plonking her ass on the soil to look up at her. She was the epitome of someone who shouldn’t be outside, belly taking up her whole centre, just tummy and then her legs. Thao’s hands clenched and unclenched by her side, antsy.

“What the hell are you doing?” Uh oh. Mimi’s smile faltered a little at her tone, hands coming to rub her tummy, babies feet fluttering at the sound of their other mothers voice. The brunettes heart swelled at this, but it clearly was not the time to bring it up.

“I’m… i’m just helping out. It’s an easy job, really and I thought I could just—”

“No.” Thao shook her head, not even having the words. She strode over and held her hand out for the girl to take. “Get up.” When Mimi stared at her hand for a second, taken a back the cowgirl extended her hand with more emphasis to hurry her along. The brunette took it, and Thao pulled her to her feet, hand on her lower back to help her along as she walked despite being pissed off.

Mimi’s companion smelled like dirt, in the comforting way — she had accompanying stains up and down her thin shirt, her hat still resting atop her head giving her an extra inch or so. Despite the protective head gear, across her nose and cheeks were still smattered with freckles, shaded by a bronzey pink colour from days of working in the sun. She was starting to look a little stronger from her days of exerting herself physically outside in a way that made a blush form across Mimi’s own cheeks when she would handle her protectively like this — but maybe that was just the pregnancy hormones making her impossibly more needy than she already was.

She walked her all the way inside the house, setting her on the couch — disappearing and reappearing with a glass of cold water — all but forcing it into Mimi’s hand.

“Why were you outside?” She exasperated, stood in front of the girl now — her cowboy hat held to her stomach in her hand, almost subconsciously like she was thinking of the baby.

Mimi sighed, unable to meet her eye. “I’m not made of glass, Thao.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You cannot afford to be proving how capable you are — that is my baby inside you.” She addressed desperately and Mimi sunk down a little into the chair, welling up just a little. She didn’t wanna cry, she was always fucking bursting into tears — more so now that she was pregnant. She knew Thao was right, perhaps she hadn’t been thinking straight because of her own boredom.

“I just wanted to get the job done so you’d be finished with all the reno sooner. I miss you. These days you just come home exhausted and you’re too tired to even speak to me and it’s just… it’s making me feel lonely. You’re getting carried away.” She explained, eyes on the coffee table. Thao shifted on her feet, blinking about as she listened. She was trying to hear her out, but the sight of her exerting herself on her knees in the blazing sun gave her the fright of her life.

“So you talk to me. You don’t just… go out without telling me and start working, are you crazy? What if you fell over? Orrrr if you got sunsick? There’s rotting wood around the garden I haven’t replaced yet and the thought of you getting a splinter makes me want to fucking throw up.” She exaggerated, hands splayed out by her side as she lectured her, the small swollen girl sighing, making her belly lift up and down ever so slightly. Her heart fluttered some more at the mention of all the risks, regret seeping into her arms making them cold all the way through to her chest. She glanced up at her, apologetic.

“I’m sorry.” She was trying not to blink now, because if she did the fat tears would roll down her cheeks and it had become a competition against herself now to just not. Not right now. It wasn’t just the being told off, it was feeling aimless — days spent doing nothing to prepare for this baby whilst Thao did it all, it was being too big to do anything, the waddling making her insecure and a burden. It was the boredom eating away at her. The cowgirl watched her eyes flicker around as her mind reeled and she relaxed, shoulders untensing a little as she plodded round, boots heavy on the wooden flooring before dropping down on the couch next to her wife. “Okay.” She accepted softly, brushing the girl with her shoulder.

She turned when she was ready, looking at the upset woman beside her. “This isn’t easy I get it.” She comfort and Mimi nodded, looking away at the threat of her tears falling. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, sweet girl.” Her thumb stroked one away just as it fell, Mimi sighing down at herself, stroking her tummy for comfort — something the little girl inside of her had come to bring her. Thao’s longer hand came to rest on top of the brunettes, stroking her knuckle. They rested like that for a moment before Mimi spoke.

“Earlier when you came and found me, the baby started kicking when she heard you.” Jamie spoke in a near whisper, gentle smile replacing her frown at the memory. Thao’s own face broke into a smile too, pushing her hand beneath her wife’s to feel the bump in her own palm.

“She was telling me to shut the fuck up.” She teased and Mimi tutted with a snicker, swatting her shoulder lightly.

“Don’t swear in front of her, she can hear you!”

“Her first word is gonna beeee… cunt!” Thao beamed proudly making Mimi giggle.

“Stop it.” She leant into her a little more, a comfortable silence settling over them. After a moment of Thao rubbing over the spot the baby pressed it’s feet into, she spoke.

“I’ll ride into town tomorrow, get you one of those big floppy hats. To protect your head.” She decided quietly, making the girl turn to look up at her engaged. “I’ll try and loosen up a little, let you come out and sit by me whilst I work. Not if it’s too hot, and not for too long at a time but… yeah.”

Mimi smiled hopefully, nodding.

Thao stretched her arms, arching off the couch briefly before sitting up, resting her elbows on her spread knees as she thought. “Maybe you bring me lunch or the lemonade you make? I can get you the stuff.” She listed, making Mimis smile grow. “And maybe, if it gets a little cooler…” She sighed. “We can talk about you feeding the sheep again. It’s pretty easy and doesn’t take long so I guess… it can’t hurt.”

Mimi rubbed a hand up her back, stroking her there over her shirt as a silent thank you, appreciating her working on a compromise instead of the usual ‘my way or the highway’ attitude. She knew that these things would be heavily guarded under her supervision, but she was just happy to get out the house. Thao turned back to her, giving her a serious look.

“But just… you need to relax, yeah? That’s quite literally all I need you to do. Just relax, make tea, organise the babies room if you have to. If you wanna be helpful, I’ve got some jeans I need you to sew up ‘cos I fucked ‘em up working outside. Okay?” She raised her eyebrows and Mimi nodded happily, pulling her in for a kiss.

“Thanks Thao.”

“Yeah.” She shrugged like it was nothing, before standing up and placing her hat back on her head. “Gotta go and get some more hours in. But I’ll try and head back in earlier tonight. Try.” She spread her fingers in warning at the lack of promise. She passed by, giving Mimi’s bump a soft pat once more before walking around the couch to leave.

“Thao?” Mimi leant her chin on the back of the couch as she swivelled round, watching her.

“Yeah?” She turned back and Mimi grinned.

“Can you give Zach a kiss for me?”

Thao had never kissed that horse a day in her life, and didn’t plan on starting today. It was her instinct to raise an eyebrow and say ‘Fuck no’ but she softened a little for the girl who always made her soften a little, a lot even. “Sure.”

Mimi beamed, watched her leave before moving on to her next very important mission of the day — that being, relaxing.

[viisator]

Greek myth Au Masterlist

• • •

Lee Heeseung

Daughter of Apollo

Heeseung is one of the best knights in Athens, and you are the goddess of Wishes, you're a goddess who make whishes come true with a price, either good or bad, you want to grant wishes with a price.

One night Heeseung came to you wishing for his lover to come back to him and leave the other guy who his lover are with that time, " Oh? " Was your reply " but for her to come back to me, I want your head." He said holding his sword and readying himself to attack, laughing to yourself, and in a flick of your fingers, the sword that's his holding vanished in thin air and ask him " you might want to cool your head down...so, do you wanna spend the night?"

Park Jeongseong

Lavender roses and you

Jay is the second son of Dionysus and Aphrodite, Jay is the god of Sexual Pleasure and Parties, he never thought of falling in love, but when he got bored, up in Olimpia, he thought he could visit down where the mortals at.

Then he saw you, you have the brightest smile that never in his existence have ever seen, you gave him an apple and a lavender rose, he can not forget how that rose smell, and he will never forget how sweet you are, and how beautiful you are.

In the next few months he saw you again, on an apple farm with the smile that put him into a deep spell.

Sim Jeayun

Forgotten

Sim Jeayun son of Demeter, and demigod of life and nature made a promise with you, the goddess of wind and weather. But as time goes by that promise went forgotten, you both have parted your own ways.

So what will happen when he need your help but too prideful to reach out, will you help him because you know he needs it, or will you turn a blind eye. Or will your promise will once again be remembered.

"promises are meant to be forgotten. Old 'friend'"

Park Sunghoon

The Curse of Aphrodite

Park Sunghoon never loved you, but you love him from skin to bones, you think you have done enough for him to love you back, but unfortunately he loves her more, you have spent your night crying.

So when the thought of making a bargain with the goddess Aphrodite cross your mind, you did not waste any second and go to her temple.

There, you made a decision that Park Sunghoon regretted.

Kim Sunoo

Keep her closer

Being the god of persuasion is the best, cause Kim Sunoo will never use it in a good way, he want to get what he wants, he's a greedy god.

So when he sets an eye on you, the goddess of possession, he know it, he wants you he got you, but persuading you wasn't easy at all, you're a hard headed goddess who loves to possess everything, you're just like him, you get what you want.

So persuading his mother, Aphrodite, to set an arrangement marriage was the way to get you. Or so he thought.

Yang Jungwon

Mistake of Athena

Yang Jungwon is a mare mistake of Athena, but there must have been a reason why. Athena tried to find a worthy man for her to give her child to, but after she has him - her child - how he lacks some abilities and she thinks he's not worth it, she threw him away, and the boy grew up with the name the mortal who raised him gave him, Jungwon, as Jungwon grew older, he finally figured out about the abilities he posses, and once he grew older to understand why does he have those uncommon abilities, he starts to realize of how unlucky he is to have a mother so heartless, so once he grew older he always resent her.

Until one night a girl sneak out of his mansion, into his room trying to steal something, and after their encounter, their story began, and those comfortable feelings grow into something different.

Nishimura Riki

I love you though.....

Riki is one of Hades's son - the god of wealth and the King of the underworld- and the god of tricks. Being the youngest son and god of tricks and pranks, Riki always has been the rebellious type of child, he always sees his father as "boring and strict" and so he and his father often argue, though his father always wins cause he's the king and much stronger than him and he is his father.

But most of all to annoy and get his stupid and offending pranks on, he'd always have been interested on pranking Demeter's youngest daughter, you the goddess of fairness. Riki thinks your ideology and his are big differences, you always think it's unfair for the prince of the underworld to trick you when you have not done any offending matters to him.

Growing up with him, him not getting tired of being playful and you so tired of being played with, has to an end; and that's when he turned your hopes up, higher than Olimpia.

Viisator © 2022

Masterlist

[iceprincessviviane]

Eyes in the darkness

Paring: Yandere!C!Technoblade x BookwormEnchanter!Female!Reader

Type: Romantic (Technoblade is yandere). Trilogy - part one. Next part.

Warnings: swearing, possessivness, yandere, angst, injury, sugestive content, threats, blood, silly jokes created by me.

Summary: Technoblade was watching Y/N for some time, trying to stay in the shadows. Unfortunately voices and thoughts won against the logic and he want her now on his side forever.

Author's note: Inspiration from a lot of things, but especially: Hades and Persephone, Beauty and the Beast. This used to be oneshot, but I changed my mind, ut will be trilogy. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.

Words in red colour are Technoblade's voices.

Words in blue colour are Y/N thoughts.

Y/N didn’t know when was the last time she ran for her life. Probably during one of the pillagers attack on the village or maybe in the Nether. But none of them was that type. Now she was being chased by something way much more dangerous than besties. At the moment, she’s being followed by the Blood God himself. Despite the aching and pain of her muscles and her throat feeling dry from gasping for air, Y/N was still asking herself how did on earth this happen?

~*~

Y/N always loved books and reading, she came to Smp two weeks after Foolish arrival. Actually her friendship with him leaded her here. They exchanged the letters and she was interested in staying somewhere for a while. After some time, she decided to come. Her divine friend already started to build his summer home and had few buildings done. She stayed there for few couple of days, they decided to build something for herself. She already have met most of Smp members including Dream Team, Bench Trio and rest, but owning home, place for stay was good idea. Sometimes Y/N liked to be alone. Eret allowed her to build something behind his castle, it was always nice to have someone close.

It took time before she ended house, it was cozy one with big field in front, farms, cellars and most important - library with enchanting place. It was huge, biggest part of the house with plenty of regals and reading spots. Y/N loved to spend there time and collectin more books or texts. Foolish had a lot of ancient scrolls or manuscripts and liked to share them with her. They could spend hours discussing about their favourite ones.

Books caused that Y/N met Phil, because he was the second person on the Smp, which had great collection from centauries. Shark god took her at trip to Tundra. Y/N was excited to meet such person and nervous too. Happily, everything went all right, Technoblade wasn't that time in home, so they had chilling conversation. Winged man was very curious about her skills and enchants. Of course during his travells and lifespan he met enchanters, but didn't paid much attention to them. Now, he could meet one in chill ocassion. Their three had a lot of talking, giggling and being wholesome. Phil promised to borrow more interesting books and Y/N said, that she can give some enchantments.

When Technoblade came back he immediately felt, that Foolish was there with... someone else... someone new. It smelled like pine and old paper, very nice. Phil told him about visitors and Y/N, he ignored it a little bit, but voices... voices liked this smell a lot.

'So strange.' 'Which woman can smell like that?' 'Where is she living?'

}*{

Y/N was peaceful person with no intention to harm anybody, staying in her place. She stayed in positive relations with almost everyone, providing needed enchantments and helping caused, that a lot of members were friendly to her. Y/N liked to hanging out with Bench Trio, although they were sometimes so chaotic. Usually she went mining with Ranboo, when it was needed, cutting trees with Tommy for his buildings and staying in Snowchester with Tubbo. That is why she came with almost everyone, when Tommy and Tubbo were in Dream bunkier fighting with him. Discs were just items, but... Dream's obsession, it was dangerous and teenagers were her friends. After that a lot of things changed. Putting him into Pandora's Vault was meant to protect them, but she was getting cold shivers each time she looked at black walls of prison. Knowing that everyone could be locked there...

After Egg's influence grew stronger she tried to find some infromations about it and how could ghe possible defeat it, but that took time. Foolish and Phil were so helpful handing their ancient texts, to make research. Suddenly with crimson vines everywhere, Smp became less safer, at least she felt it that way. More members were busy with their business and stuff, they finally could do them, when Dream was locked. For example Foolish agreed to build big mansion for Tubbo and Ranboo, which got platonical marriage and Tommy started his hotel. Meeting Michael was so wholesome and funny, little zombie piglin started to like her and at each visit she read him fairy tales and stories.

Y/N decided to not think about bad sides of Smp, just being busy and tried to help, if someone needed it. Before Doomsday wandering around could be dangerous, especially for La'Manburg citizens, because Dream and Technoblade were unpleasant for them. Now she enjoyed visiting almost everyone everywhere. After a few visits, she could tell that something was wrong, Y/N couldn't tell what, but it was almost like being watched, blaming Egg and vines was her answer for that, but actually why? Why did it do that? She would never joined their side. Never ever. Sometimes she spotted the Phil's corws, but that wasn't a s surprise, birds were telling him a lot of informations around the Smp. Easy way to know almost everything.

}*{

Y/N was heading to her house, stepping at Prime Path. In opposite direction she spotted Quackity, slowly walking by from prison direction, which was surprise. She smiled softly to him and he smiled back.

"What's up?" Big Q asked when got closer to her.

"It's good I am coming back home, need to eat and get some nap, and you?"

"I... ended some buisness." His face stiffened and his look became more serious.

Y/N nodded little unsure about his changed emotions. Suddenly she spotted that his sleeve is covered in fresh blood.

"Are you hurt?" She asked worried.

Quckity looked at his shirt as surprised as she and frowned, he checked axe which hanged down from his belt.

"I guess so then, but I don't know where did that come from."

"Let me take care of this." Y/N suggested with warm smile. "My home is closer than Las Nevadas."

After a few moments he nodded in agreement. They together headed to her place. Weather started to become stormy, dark cloud covered the sun, threating to start raining.

Then went inside, but when she was closing door, feeling of being watched hit her with dubled strength. House was in the spine forest, but fenced and had a gate. In filed were some farms, trees and small garden, but everything seemed to look normal. Big Q sat on the couch in living room and Y/N brought bandages, water in bowl and even healing potion. He rose sleeve, wound wasn't long, but deep, something cut his arm, probably weapon.

"It doesn't look good, but you will be okay." She said after looking at cut.

"Good." He sighed with relief.

"What did make it? Do you have an idea?"

Big Q looked dead in her eyes and remained silence. Of course he knew what, but he didn't even noticed the wound before leaving the prison. Well, someone will pay for this.

"Maybe working at Las Nevadas, you know... I am still building there." He spoke after a while.

"Oh... ye you have right, but be careful next time." Y/N suggested and started to work on cut carefuly. Starting on cleaning, then gently bandaged it.

"Thank you." Big Q said after seeing the results.

"No problem, just don't walk around with untreated wound." Y/N giggled softly.

He stood up and moved his eyes on windows. Black clouds didn't go away, even became worse.

"I will go now, weather is getting worse, I want to be in home before storm." Big Q said with soft smile.

"Of course, see you next time."

After he left, big storm came, darkness fell upon the Smp, rain and wind were too strong, for coming outside. Y/N decieded to take a chance and nap. She baked some cookies and sit down on a couch with another book, which Phil borrowed her. Only the torches gave light, sometimes thunderbolt stroke and filled room with unatural blue light. Drops hit hardly, making loud sounds, but Y/N was too much into a book. Two hours has passed and slowly night was coming. She moved eyes to meet clock, yep that was supper time, put the book away and up, Gods thr storm didn't let go. Y/N watched for a while outside, then go to kitched. She grabbed blanket and wrapped it around her posture, damn there were cold.

Again feeling of being watched kicked in. She was alone at home, that was sure thing. Outside was deep dark and behind the windows was the wall of the water. Y/N bite her lip and shook head, it was just her imagination, a feeling which stayed for no reason after putting Dream into Pandora's Vault. She took an kettle and suddenly was seeing something in the corner of the eye, something red and unusual in the spine forest. Her figure frozen when she moved back eyes. Deep in the dark, around sprouce trees in the line of forest, Y/N spotted pair of shinning, red eyes, high above the ground. They were locked at her figure.

'This has to be spider... or something else...'

Right after this thought, ceature turned back and disappeard in the darkness, cold shiver went down at Y/N spine. What was that? And why it was here? At least she was safe in home...

}*{

'More.' 'Training is boring, let's find someone to fight.' 'We demand blood.'

Technoblade sighed and stopped, voices today were very, very loud. That was why he decided to train, but during it, they became even worse. He hid sword and walked into home. Phil wasn't here today, he had to do something, but didn't bother to tell him what it was. Blade went back to home by his old path through the forest. His training place was near the cottage, but still hidden from common people. All members of Syndicate knew where it was. First of all he need to take shower. When cold water touched his skin, he felt like even his bloodlust became less, quiet hiss left his lips. He earned some chafings this week. Next, he changed his clothes to common and made a cup of tea, then sit in the kitchen. Immediately his thoughts went to Y/N.

Somehow voices were acting diffrent around her and he even found himself acting that way. They were focused around Y/N and he was more calm, like just her pressence was comforting him. Technoblade remembered their first meeting, it was common day, when someone knocked on the door. He opened it and rose his eyebrows in surprise, outside was standing fragile woman, without any armor and only with trident on her back. They shared awkward eye contact, when suddenly she introduced herself as Y/N. Of course he saw her couple of times, but it wasn't officialy. Y/N has known who was he for sure, she swallowed hard and looked down with shyness. Phil yelled across the room, that she could come in. Ah yes... she loved to read books and his old friend was borrowing her them a lot. Technoblade again felt the spine and old papers smell, for him, it could stay here forever. After short visit, Y/N took books, gave back book of enchantment and left.

Techno's curiosity has increased, when he heard about her more. She was peaceful, friendly soul, completly opposite of him, maybe that was, why he felt so... diffrent around her and voices too. Piglin hybrid enjoyed watching her from the distance, in the shadows, but lately... lately it wasn't enough. Now he wanted to breathe at Y/N scent, holding her close and pressed soft kisses at forehead. He was under voices pressure so long and now his salvation was so close. But what would he make it? As longer he has thought of that, a diffrent ideas came to his head. She was delicate creature, he had to get plan at all. Techno knew almost everything about her: hobbies, traditions, friends and fighting skills. Phil told him a lot about enchanters, they could make enchanting books after years of studying and had magic talent sometimes. As they knew, Y/N could enchant books at any spell, so she had to studied a lot. Technoblade sighed and grabbed his cloak, time to keep an eye on few things.

'Let's not go quietly!' 'Let's go quiet as grave...' 'Blood for the Blood God!'

}*{

That was busy week, Y/N could only one time saw Foolish and Phil, but whole Smp seemed a little bit diffrent... luckily she was able to go on mining trip with Ranboo and Eret visited her with a couple of books, which were about Smp. Now was afternoon and sun slowly started to set, she was heading to her house, where waited for her snow fox, which she found in Snowchester. Cute, little ball of fur stole Y/N heart immediately. When she finally stepped inside, Snowflake - that how she named it, ran into her squeaking high.

"What happend my little one?" She knelt down and pet it's head.

Fox looked at her with big brown eyes and squeaked once more, then jump into her arms.

"Oh oh oh... are you afraid of something?" Y/N hugged Snowflake and looked around. Everything in home seemed normal, door was closed, in a field same, animals were quite nervous, but everything was good. She frowned and stepped inside, then put fox into basket with small blanket.

"I will bring you some berries, you will like it for sure." Y/N smiled gently.

Unfortunately, she didn't have any at this moment in home, Snowflake was there only for three days, so she couldn't make berries farm so fast, because she had to set up a space. Luckily, she lived around coniferous forest, so didn't even hesiatate, Y/N just grabbed backpack and went outside. Sun was lower in the sky, but still it was warm and brightly. Birds were humming quietly and around was quite quiet. Berries bush weren't so far, she founed some, but in order to make supplies, decided to find more, then plant them around the house. It would spared the time and work.

"Y/N." She heard deep, lazy voice and immediately turned at it's direction.

The Blade was standing under big sprouce tree with satisfied grinn on his lips. Eyes locked on Y/N figure, which completly froze at the sight of him. She have never been with him alone, in tundra always Phil or Ranboo were around, now it felt... strange and risky, she still remembered what happend to La'Manburg citizens.

"Technoblade." Y/N spoke softly, being careful to not crack her voice, despite building feeling of fear. She noticed, that piglin hybrid under his royal, crimson cloak was wearing armor, probably not his best one, but still enough to win fight. Part of hair made into bun, rest were freely in his back and shoulders. From his belt was hanging netherite sword and netherite axe was sticking out from behind. She spotted, that his weapons were a little covered in blood, same as his sleeves and parts of shirt. He was killing monsters right? Or just hunting? Uncomfortable, awkward silence reminded between them, only forest noises distrubed it from time to time.

Voices were too loud today, too agressive, too greedy, killing monsters and pillagers wasn't enough, Quackity has already tasted his steel, well he deserved that after showing up in Y/N home. He had so much fun with him, but after that he needed some rest, comfort and calm. That is why without even thinking too much Technoblade went straight to Y/N house. He hoped, that everything will change, that he finally will has some break from voices, violence and killing. Of course he liked his way to be... but yes sometimes, you have to make a nap.

"Are you wounded?" Y/N asked quietly breaking the silence. After all, if he needed help, she would help him, without hesitation.

Technoblade's grinn became more sinister, he put hand on sword hilt and slowly tilted his head on right side.

"This isn't my blood." He said without caring at all.

"Oh, that's good then..." Y/N whispered, but he could hear that.

Piglin hybrid studied her posture, she had only trident at her back, backpack in left hand, no armor, no more weapons. Poor little girl, that's not how you are going outside your home, she was literally unarmed in his eyes.

"So... what are you doing here? Alone? In the forest?" Technoblade asked and moved closer to her.

The way he spoke these words, made Y/N shiver inside, outside, she grabbed her backpack harder. Surely there was nothing to worry about, she has never done something wrong to him or Philza, she wasn't dangerous or wanted to has any power. Techno is probably just passing by. Suddenly he was so close, now she could for real see the height diffrence, for the gods sake, her head reached around his breastbone. Y/N looked up only to meet piglin hybrid's burning gaze.

"I... I was collecting berries for my snow fox. Something scared her, so I thought that she will calm down after getting some and I ran out of them..." she suttered and swallow hard.

"How sweet." Technoblade commented and his smile widened.

"So... you are just passing by?"

"Not really."

Sudden grip on her chin caught Y/N off guard. Technoblade forced her to look straight into his eyes. His face stiffened a little bit, she hissed quietly, when claws touched harder gentle skin. Then she realised... Blade's eyes were red and she heard, that it could glow in darkness. Her skin became pale and pupils widened. It was him, that time during a storm, he was watching her...

"What are you doing?" Y/N asked quietly, without any clue, what was going on.

'She is so innocent.' 'We love her scent.' 'Let her know.'

"I have something to tell you." He leaned and immediately her scent hit him harder, resisting to take deep breath wasn't that easy.

"What excatly?"

"I was watching you for a while Y/N. Belive me or not I found that interesting, because your pressence is calming for me, I can fall asleep while listening your voice and push away my violence behaviour, when you are around." He stroked her cheek by his thumb and smiled haughty. "I am always getting , what I want and I want that so badly, you can't even imagine."

Y/N shook head and made few steps back, leaving his grip, couldn't belive what she just heard. That's impossible.

"I don't know what to say... I can admit, that I had strange feeling of being watching but... I blamed the Egg..." She looked deep into his eyes, trying to put everything together. "What do you mean, you are always getting, what are you want? How am I suppose to understand that?"

"Listen sweetheart, we can do this in two diffrent ways: good or bad. If you choose first one, fine politely you will go with me. Second way? Well I can be very convincing, when I want to." Technoblade frowned.

None of this options was good for her. Y/N sighed and her shoulders dropped. She couldn't do anything literally...

"Come on princess. I can take care of you, I promise, you will be happy." He gave her his hand, but gripped sword hilt harder.

Y/N always avoided the conflicts and argues, never has started any, that was easier and better way to live. She could take care of her interests, powers anf friends by being supportive or neutral. Technoblade's behaviour made her shiver and feel sick, there was no guarantee that he will keep his words, even if it were sweet and promising. Y/N knew that fighting him was pointlees, he were ten thousand better than her, she didn't even have armor or second weapon. But surrender just like that? Without any resistance? She always was determinated, miss 'you can always find a way, solution'. Not a chance.

"I think I have better option, which lay in the middle." Y/N smiled gently.

"Well, tell me then." Technoblade rose his eyebrows with curiosity.

With one smooth move, she put backpack on and immediately started to run. The Blade's pupils widened, he burst out laughing.

"It will be funny."

She has known, that she needed to lose him in forest. Going to home wouldn't help, because door or gate couldn't stop Blood God. Lost him and then ran away from Smp, at least her current living location. Y/N realized that she couldn't even ask for help anyone. Probably Technoblade would come after her friends, helpers, so that was it. Y/N versus The Blade, she was on her own.

'How did she dare to run away from us?!' 'Chase her, catch her.' 'Faster, faster, faster!'

It seemed like running away from Tommy for fun, came in handy and long trips with Ranboo caused her to move fast through forest. Y/N nimbly jumped over obstacles and avoid rocks or roots. Her pace wasn't the fastes, but she could hold it for pretty long time. She wasn't thinking a lot, just tried to run away as far as she could.

'Don't look back, don't look back, it will make you slower.'

Hiding could be good idea, but not now. As long as he was close, she couldn't stop at all. Breaking through the forest was only hearing noise, soon, she heard her heavy breathing. Heading to unknown direction wasn't so wisely, but Y/N had no choice. After a few minutes, she stopped to catch breath. Around was sudden so quiet, cold shiver went down at her spine. Too quiet.

"Already tired?" Technoblade's voice surprised her from left side.

She turned head, just to see him leaning against the tree. In his right hand he held sword, didn't even look like he was running.

"You can't outrun me little one. A lot of people tried, now they are dead." He aimed sword at her. "We can end this farce here. I am not mad, honestly, you made me smile a little bit."

"You will have to catch me, if you want me going with you." Y/N said and then continue to run away.

"Oh I will princess, that's what predator does to the prey."

Y/N started to feel really tired, muscles aching, throat dry from gasping for air, hair dispelled and cheeks red. She ran for a while, but now had to stop. Technoblade immediately appeared in her field of vision. He was walking carefuly, but still looked intimidating.

"Don't come closer!" She released a cry.

Piglin hybrid stopped about eight meters away. He leaned sword against the ground and looked at her with curious gaze.

'Here she is, our reward.' 'Let's finally take her with us.' 'We like that sound.'

"I think, I just caught you." A little grinn appeared on his lips.

She looked straight into his eyes. Her gaze full of fear met a calm and determination. Y/N didn't even want to think what would happend, if he fulfilled his desires. Gods sake, she was free human being, none could take her freedom, she didn't ask for this. In an act of desperation, with the last of her strength, she used her powers. Feeling of warm through fingers and energy drained from her veins, but then burning light. In Technoblade's towards direction flew literally fireball, but he was too skilled for this. He made a dodge and looked at Y/N with mix of proud and shock. She dropped to her knees, struggling to stay conscious, despite the pain at her whole body and tired mind and unclear vision. Technoblade immediately was with her, he knelt down and support her, by putting arm around her waist. Y/N leaned back against his chest, fatigue prevailed over reason.

"Enough for today princess. You run out, if you will keep resisting." He whispered calmly.

"Please, please... please I don't want this, I want to go home." Her voice was cracking, tears strimming down at her cheeks.

"Hush darling, everything will be all right."

Technoblade's body radiated warm, his tone suddenly was so calming and sleepy. She wanted to close eyes so badly, but still fear was too big.

"You are safe, nothing can hurt you I promise."

After this words Y/N gave up and lost consciousness. Sun went down and shadows became longer and darker.

}*{

Phil careful closed the doors, then walked quietly down. Technoblade sat in kitchen with cup of hot tea, he immediately looked at his old friend, his eyes were worrying.

"Y/N is good, she lost consciousness, because was too tired. You said that, she used her powers."

"It was literally fireball, but I dodge that easy."

"Well, now we know about her powers at least... interesting, what you are going to do, when she wake up?" Phil asked and sat in opposite site.

"I know, that you are not glad about this, but I will figure this out. She won't cause any troubles." Techno's voice became deeper.

Winged man sighed and looked at his friend. He knew what he was going through, when voices became louder and demanded blood, each moment of silence or when they were quiet, Technoblade cherished and tried to make it worth. Phil couldn't be angry or mad for his friend about that deed, but... he was torn.

"Come on spit it out. I can see that you want to tell something important." Piglin hybrid said slowly.

"We were through a lot of shit, we know each other for almost ages and we blew up the nation for gods sake, kidnapping isn't the worst thing you have done, but..." Phil started and looked at Techno. "I wish you best and everything good, but I don't know how will I act around. Y/N has come to me for books, we were talking about stuff, I gave her cookies and tea. How will I explain, that I am supporting your decision? And I am always on your side." Phil said aloud his worries.

"I will give her time to get used to. After certain amount of time Y/N will understand." The Blade was lost in his thoughts.

He was so greatful of his friend statement, but still a little bit unsure. This case shloudn't affect on their relationship or Phil's life. Honestly Technoblade belived that his pressence will comfort Y/N at least, as he said they were close and enjoyed each other company.

"Someone will notice her disappering. What then? And Ranboo is visiting us a lot." Phil sighed a little.

"I've got this, trust me."

"I trust you with my own life." Winged man nodded.

}*{

Sunlight kissed her skin gently, when it showed up on window. Y/N felt softness under herself and on her back. Quiet sigh left her lips, when she opened eyes. In the room was very bright, but for sure it wasn't her room. Immediately cold shiver went down at her spine. Still weak, she tried to lift herself, because she was lying on stomach. Bed was big, with good beddings and pillows.

"Don't move, you are still weak." Technoblade's voice was soft, but loud.

Y/N bite her lip and then lifted head. He was standing near the bed and observing curiously, looking completly diffrent. White, linen shirt and high waisted, leather trousers, hair braided tighly. In this version he was... more open and accessible, not so scary.

"Where am I?" She asked slowly and rolled at her back with quiet hiss. Muscles still hurt and throat was dry.

"In my house, in tundra safe and..." He cut off, while noticed that Y/N is trying to get up. "What did I say?" He stepped closer and sat on bed.

She sat unsure on mattress, just to met Technoblade here, he gripped again her chin, as in the forest and forced her to look at him. This time it was more gently.

"Darling please..."

"You can't take my freedom!"

His eyes darkened immediately and Y/N regreted her words. She swallowed hard, when Blade looked deep into her eyes.

"Of course I can and I will, if you don't behave good. If you didn't notice, you aren't chained or tied, but pretty comfy in my bed." He said slowly with threat in his voice. "Think about it."

Technoblade released her and got up. She looked down thinking about situation, yes he didn't tied her, but still it wasn't good case. Y/N just wanted to be free, do stuff which she want and meet friends. Maybe Smp wasn't perfect, but still now it was her home, there were a lot of wars or argues, but she still had house and persons which she cared about and this was mutual, now everything was unsure.

"I am just afraid... " Y/N whispered quietly.

"As I said earlier you are safe here, you are safe with me. Nothing can hurt you." Techno grabbed bowl with soup and came back. "Here, eat, you need to recover."

"Thanks." She smiled weakly to him, took bowl and started to eat slowly.

'Good girl.' 'She will behave for sure.' 'We can teach her a lesson.'

Y/N was napping for the rest of the day, Technoblade gave her one of their books, so she wasn't bored. Probably tomorrow or next day she will stand up.

The sound of closing doors, caused her to closed book and put it away. Piglin smiled gently and took off his shirt suddenly. Y/N eyes became big.

"Wait wait wait..."

"Calm down princess, I am just going to sleep, nothing else." Technoblade smirked for her panic.

"So... where shloud I move?" Y/N asked looking around the room.

"Nowhere. You are staying here with me."

Immediately her cheeks went slighty red. She looked at him curiously. His pink skin seemed gentle from the distance, a lot of scars marked his chest and arms. Some of them little, some of them large, the biggest one was through both sides of chest. Technoblade released his hair and came closer. Y/N moved to make him some space. He laid down, she followed his steps but remain distance.

"Goodnight." She said and turned back from him.

"Goodnight sweetheart."

He blow up torches near the bed and silence fell upon them. Not even a five minutes passed, when Y/N felt sudden grip on her waist. She froze, Technoblade hugged her and pressed kiss on her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Quiet whisper left her lips.

"Snuggling and cuddling." He whispered softly.

Y/N couldn't help, she giggled quietly. Techno took this as premission, her back touched his chest and second hand slowly stroked her hair.

[lazypeachsoul]

are you thanking me or your god? - u.r.

Pairing: Uhtred Ragnarsson x fem!reader.

Request: by @viktoria12 “Hey can you write a imagine with Uhtred? The content is up to you🙏”

Warnings: Nothing.

Word count: 1.601 words.

A/N: I have to admit this was a bit tricky because I've never read uhtred imagines. But it was fun, i really like uhtred as a character. i hope you like it and I'm sorry it has taken me some time to post it.

Masterlist.

To be added to my taglist use this forms or write me an ask!

Winchester was the busiest it had been in a long time. With the coming of spring, the merchants were returning to the city to trade and spending too much time around the alehouse. Spirits were high after the blessing given by the priest on Easter and the year was expected to be calm and fruitful. Except for the danes lurking in the surrounding areas. But nobody would dare talk about that when it’s the Lord’s day.

Good weather meant people would go outside more, and therefore more gossip. Every turn you took on your way to the market, you would hear a different rumour. Most were about the health of the king, some were about the threat of a battle. You even heard one about danes walking around the city freely.

But your head was too centered on the task at hand. Abbess Hild had asked you to go to the market for flour and other necessities, and you wouldn’t dare disappoint the Abbess. You weren’t even a nun and you still followed her orders like a soldier.

Your house was close to the convent and, ever since you walked past the gates and into their garden when you were young, they had treated you like their family. Sometimes too much when it came to the boys your age. But they were only trying to protect you.

Sister Hild, later Abbess, had always surprised you. Not only did she have a strong will and personality, she was also physically strong. More than what a woman of god should be. but still, with all her strength, she needed you to go buy the necessities that they couldn’t get from their garden.

Too distracted by your thoughts and the gossiping going around, you collided against someone making you almost tumble to the dirt floor. If it hadn’t been for a quick hand grabbing your dresses you would be covered in mud and other disgusting stuff.

Looking up you saw a scruffy looking man, but not in a bad way surprisingly. This man looked almost too different from what you were used to seeing around Winchester. Something about his reaction told you he was trained, and the scars in his hands and handsome face gave away he was probably a soldier. For who is what you were curious to know.

Realizing the compromising position you found yourself on, with a man holding your dress, you quickly tried to regain your balance. The man let go and you tried to stutter an apology, but your attempts were stopped by a sweet but authoritative voice behind you.

“Uhtred! I was looking for you, we need to discuss…” Her voice got interrupted when she recognized you in front of the man. “What are you doing here, darling? I thought you would be in the market by now.”

“I tried Abbes, I just had a little-” You tried to speak but were interrupted by a deep voice. In a normal situation you would be angry at such interruption, but when you heard the voice you couldn’t really care about it.

“We had a small incident, Hild. Don’t worry, nobody is hurt.”

The voice fit the man perfectly. With a deep voice he spoke calmly and yet you could pick up a joking tone towards the Abbess. Who is this uhtred man? Why is he joking with Hild? But wait, how does Hild even know a man like him?

Full of curiosity you realized you were still standing between them. Clearing your throat you nodded at Hild and turned around with a smile to your saviour.

“Thank you Lord for helping me. I’m in your debt.” Nodding your head you moved past them, not missing the small smile on the man's face.

“You owe nothing to him, young lady. He's heathen. He doesn’t deserve your compassion.”

A loud laugh was heard from the man along with what sounded like a smack, probably to the leather of his armour. The words of the Abbess circled your brain for the rest of the day. So he was a heathen, a friend of Hild and incredibly handsome. Great, what a mysterious man.

After your chores were done and you took some time to relax outside of your house, the world seemed to dissipate around you. The soft sound of quick steps and panting made you look up from your dress, breaking the peace of your surroundings.

Eanflæd was running towards you, people looking her way either worried or weirded out by your young friend’s race. She reached you just in time to ungracefully collapse on the bench you were sitting on.

“Is everything okay, Eanflæd? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you run that fast. Not even when the chickens escaped.”

She was trying to regain her breath, but took the time to pinch your arm for the reminder of the chicken run.

“You...you…” She panted before taking a big breath. “You weren’t going to tell me you have been seeing the Dane-slayer.”

“Who?” You couldn’t hide your surprise.

The only person you had seen outside your family was the man who sold you the produce for the abbey. And also that man…

“Are you talking about Uhtred?”

“You know him enough you don’t even talk about him like a lord?”

You tried to hide your laugh but a small snort came out.

“I don’t know him. He merely saved me from an ugly fall this morning.” Shrugging you tried to dismiss the gossip. “But you do seem to know about him, so tell me…”

The next day didn’t allow for much thinking about ‘the Dane-slayer’. You had been working non stop in your father’s farm and everything hurt. But your mother has asked you to take some fresh eggs to her friend, and you couldn’t say no to your mother’s gentle face.

It was late enough for the ruckus of the market to have died down, but not enough for it to be dangerous or improper for a young woman to be walking around unaccompanied.

Too absorbed in your own thoughts you didn’t hear the neigh of the horse until it was too late for you to react. Looking at the animal getting closer you couldn’t help but try and pray that you would be saved, but no prayers came to your head at that moment.

Just when you were about to give up and close your eyes, something yanked you out of the way making you barely dodge the horse and the man on the cart who was yelling at you. Your heart was hammering in your chest, ears ringing and hands shaking. The eggs were no longer in your grasp but smashed against the floor, although in that moment you could make yourself care for them.

The same hand that had yanked you out of the way, spoon you around. Your saviour was none other than yesterday’s saviour. you really were in debt with this man now.

“Are you okay?” His voice was worried, a contrast to the day before’s joking tone.

Time seemed to slow while you assimilated what had happened. Probably too much time passed before you could answer but the man didn’t seem to care. When you could trust your voice to speak again, the words came out all at once.

“I was nearly trampled by someone’s horse in the street, but you stepped in just in time to get me out of the way even if it put you in danger as well.” He smiled at the jumbled words and after a deep breath you tried to regain your thoughts. “Thank you, lord.”

“Are you thanking me or your god?” Uhtred spoke and you knew he was trying to avoid your shock at the incident.

You thought about the answer and tried to smile, probably looking more like a grimace.

“Both? Yes, I think I’m thanking both.” Your voice lowered, probably to avoid other people hearing you talk that way about the Lord. “Both is good.”

He smiled and took a step back looking at you, probably checking for any injuries. The people of Winchester were used to accidents and didn’t normally care, but you could feel some stares on you. Probably because of Uhtred and his fame.

“You seem to be in one piece, can’t say the same for the eggs.” He pointed at the road.

“You have saved me twice now, lord. I might have to ignore the Abbess and ask you what I should do in return for you.”

“I wouldn’t ignore Hild. You don’t want to know what she can do with a sword.” He tried to dismiss the conversation but your curiosity only grew. “I only ask for one thing in return.”

You nodded, asking for him to continue and still trying to imagine Abbess hild wielding a sword. You knew he was a soldier, and a good one. But Hild? No, she was a woman of God.

“Stop distracting yourself when walking around. If you don’t you might end up like your eggs.”

“But if I stop getting distracted, what would you save me from, Dane-slayer?”

What possessed you in that moment to utter those words you couldn’t really say. You just knew it was not entirely proper and that if your mother heard your ear would hurt from the scolding. But the smirk on Uhtred’s face was worth it.

“So you know who I am. But I know nothing about you. Is that unfair?”

“I have my ways, Lord Uhtred. Maybe when you save me next time I could tell you something about myself.”

"Let's just hope it's not a dangerous situation then. Just to make sure you can tell me after."

taglist: @webreathfandoms

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I loved your fantastic account of the battle of Waterloo and how each nation came to define the rest of the century for all the European countries in different ways. However what are your thoughts about the battle itself? Did Wellington win it or did Napoleon lose it? What were the turning points that you think determined the fate of the battle?

Thank you for reading and liking my previous post on Waterloo. I did heavily lean into studying ancient classical warfare when I was studying Classics but I only got into Napoleonic warfare because of a father who was (and still remains) big Napoleonic warfare military enthusiast. Through his keen eyes as a former serving military man, I also looked at the battle as a soldier might as well putting on my academic critical thinking cap. It’s a popular parlour game not just in Sandhurst but also in the officers’ mess (where those regiments actually fought at Waterloo) and around dinner tables - in my experience anyway.

I’ve always seen such speculative and counterfactual questions as an amusing diversion. I’ve never seriously looked at the detail until I came to France and unexpectedly interacted with Napoleonic scholars as well as soldiers (the cultured and historically well read ones at least) that forced me to think more about it. I’ve always been of the ‘if the Prussians hadn’t arrived in time to save Wellington’ school; and this was always enough to get me by in any conversation.

But my vanity was stung by interacting with one of my downstairs neighbours, a high decorated retired army general, with whom I played a weekly game of chess over a glass of wine during the Covid lockdown in Paris. He didn’t spare me as he knew so much detail about the battle. But a typical failing of French thinking is to pontificate around generalities rather than specific reasons. So for him it came down to pooh-poohing the generalship of Wellington (the rain saved him) and lauding the emperor (he had haemorrhoids and thus a bad day at the office). So rain and haemorrhoids were the decisive factors in determining the outcome of the battle of Waterloo.

It was clear I had to raise my game. So I’ve been reading more when I could.

I had recently finished reading a wonderful book ‘The Longest Afternoon: The 400 Men Who Decided the Battle of Waterloo’ by the Cambridge historian Brendan Simms. The book came out in 2015 but it’s been lying on my shelf for these past few years until I actually took this slim book to read on my one of my business trips.  

The idea behind this short book is so superbly useful. It places to one side the huge, cinematic panorama of history and instead concentrates on one particular farmhouse, on one particular day: 18 June 1815. History is vivified, lifts itself off the page and into the mind, when a historian of Brendan Simm’s immense stature zooms in on the details - and here the details are compelling.

For the course of one day, 400 soldiers, wet, cold, in some cases hungover, who had bivouacked for the night in an abandoned farmhouse at La Haye Sainte, near a crucially strategic crossroads, found themselves staring down the massed barrels of Napoleon’s vanguard – and held them off.  On June 18, 1815, Wellington established his position and sent one battalion and part of a second to the farmhouse under the command of Major Baring. Napoléon’s initial attack was a direct assault that surrounded the house and came near to breaking Wellington’s line; but it held, and the legendary charge of two British heavy cavalry brigades drove back the French.

This is a detailed account of the defence of La Haye Sainte, a walled stone farmhouse forward of Wellington’s centre. Its defenders were the King’s German Legion, which (despite the British army’s penchant for oddball names) was genuinely German. Britain harboured many German expatriates who detested Napoléon, a number augmented in 1803 when he occupied Hanover and disbanded its army. That very year two ambitious officers recruited the first members of the King’s German Legion, which grew into a corps of some 14,000 men and served with distinction at Copenhagen, Walcheren and in Spain before its apotheosis at Waterloo.

Ordered to capture the farmhouse, Marshal Michel Ney - commanding Napoléon’s left wing - obeyed but became preoccupied with his famously unsuccessful cavalry attack. Reminded of the order two hours later, he dispatched infantry that reached the house and set it on fire. The men inside controlled the blaze and continued to fight until Ney took personal charge of a furious assault that succeeded only when the defenders ran out of ammunition and withdrew, having held out for six hours. Had they not defended it so stoutly and if the farm had fallen any sooner then Napoleon would have been able to get at Wellington’s troops before his Prussian reinforcements arrived, and in all likelihood Waterloo would have been a French victory instead; it would now be the name of a train station in Paris rather than London.

I doubt there is a definitive answer to this question which is why certain people love arguing about it because it’s so open ended in terms of cause and effect. You can pick on any episodic event and hail that as the decisive turning point. It’s one reason why we are so fortunate to have so many well researched history books on the battle of Waterloo to replenish the issues for a newer generation to argue with past generations.

If I were to go beyond the ‘if the Prussians hadn’t arrived to save Wellington’ line then I would point to ten decisive turning points which in themselves might not have changed the outcome but taken together certainly influenced the final outcome of one of the most important and iconic battles in history.

Napoleon gives Marshal Davout a desk job

6 June 1815 – All commanders need a good chief of staff to ensure that their intentions are translated into clear orders. Unfortunately for Napoleon – as what is arguably one of the most decisive battles in European history loomed – his trusted chief of staff, Marshal Berthier, was no longer available. Berthier had sworn an oath of loyalty to Louis XVIII – and then fallen to his death from a window – so the job was given to Marshal Soult.

Soult was an experienced field commander but he was certainly no Berthier. Napoleon’s two main field commanders were also far from ideal. Emmanuel Grouchy had little experience of independent command. Michel Ney’s heroic command of the French rear-guard during the retreat from Moscow led Napoleon to dub him “the bravest of the brave”, but by 1815 he was clearly burnt out.

Worse still, when on 6 June Napoleon ordered his generals to assemble with their troops on the Belgian border he chose to leave behind Louis-Nicolas Davout, his ‘Iron Marshal’, as minister of war. The emperor needed someone loyal to oversee affairs at home but the decision not to take with him the ablest general at his disposal would deprive him of the one commander who might have made a difference.

Constant Rebecque ignores orders

15 June – In June 1815 Napoleon assembled 120,000 men on the Belgian border. Opposing him were 115,000 Prussians under  Field Marshal Blücher and an allied force of about 93,000 men under Wellington. Faced with such odds, Napoleon’s best chance of victory was to get his army between his two enemies and defeat one before turning on the other. On 15 June his army crossed the frontier at Charleroi and headed straight for the gap between the two allied armies.

Wellington was taken completely by surprise: “Napoleon has humbugged me” he said. Uncertain what Napoleon’s intentions were, he ordered his army to concentrate around Nivelles, over 12 miles away from the Prussian position at Ligny. This would have left the two allied armies dangerously separated but fortunately for Wellington, a staff officer in the Dutch army, Baron Constant Rebecque, understood what was actually needed. He disregarded Wellington’s order and instead sent a force to occupy the key crossroads of Quatre Bras, much nearer to the Prussians.

D’Erlon misses the show

16 June – Two battles were fought on 16 June. While Marshal Ney took on Wellington’s army as it hurriedly tried to concentrate around Quatre Bras, Napoleon led the main French force against the Prussians at Ligny. Blücher’s inexperienced Prussians were given a severe mauling but despite this they managed to fall back in relatively good order.

This was partly due to a disastrous mix-up on the part of the French. Confusion over orders saw General D’Erlon’s corps instructed to leave Ney’s army at Quatre Bras and join the fighting at Ligny only to be recalled as soon as they got there. The result was that 16,000 Frenchmen who could have intervened decisively actually took part in neither battle.

Blücher stays in touch

17 June – Wellington succeeded in beating back Ney at Quatre Bras but Blücher’s defeat left the British general with a large French army on his eastern flank. He was forced to fall back northwards towards Brussels. The Prussians were retreating as well. Normally a retreating army tries to withdraw along its lines of communication (ie the route back to its base). Had the Prussians done this they would have headed eastwards. The two allied armies would then have been even further apart and Wellington would have been overwhelmed. But instead of doing that, the Prussians retreated northwards towards Wavre. It was to be a crucial move. The two allied armies stayed in contact and on 17 June Wellington was able to fall back to the ridge at Mont St Jean, and prepare to make a stand there until Blücher’s Prussians could come to his aid.

The weather takes a hand

17 June – The night before the battle was marked by a thunderstorm of biblical proportions. Rain lashed down, turning roads into quagmires and trampled fields into seas of mud.

It was a night of tremendous rain and cloudbursts. Wellington said that even in the monsoons in India, he’d never known rain like it. To wake up cold and damp, wet and terrified, then you have this slaughter in a very small space. By evening there were over 200,000 men struggling to kill each other within four square miles.

Private Wheeler of the 51st Regiment later wrote: “The ground was too wet to lie down… the water ran in streams from the cuffs of our Jackets… We had one consolation, we knew that the enemy were in the same plight.” Wheeler was right of course – the rain would inconvenience all three armies, not least the Prussians as they struggled along narrow country lanes to link up with Wellington.

It’s often said that Napoleon delayed starting the battle in order to allow the ground to dry out but the chief cause of the delay was probably the need to allow his units, many of whom had bivouacked some distance away, to take up their allotted places. Napoleon enjoyed a considerable advantage in artillery at Waterloo but this was lessened by the fact that the mud made it difficult to move his guns around and that cannonballs, normally designed to bounce along until they hit something, or someone, often disappeared harmlessly into the soggy ground. Macdonnell closes the gates

11:30am, 18 June – On 18 June the two armies prepared to do battle. Most of Wellington’s troops were sheltered from enemy fire on the reverse slope of the Mont St Jean ridge. The position was protected by three important outposts: a group of farms to the left, the farm of La Haye Sainte in front and the farmhouse of Hougoumont to the right.

At about 11.30am the French launched their first attack – an assault on Hougoumont. This soon developed into a battle within a battle as the French threw in ever more men in a bid to capture the vital chateau. They nearly succeeded: led by a giant officer nicknamed ‘the Smasher’, a group of French soldiers worked their way round to the rear of the chateau, forced open its north gate and burst inside.

James Macdonnell, the garrison commander, acted quickly. He gathered a group of men and they heaved the gate shut again. The French inside the chateau were then hunted down and killed. Only a young drummer boy was spared. Hougoumont was to remain in allied hands all day and Wellington later commented that the entire result of the battle depended on the closing of those gates.

Ney loses his head after his cavalry founders

1.30pm – The infantry of D’Erlon’s corps finally saw action as they attacked the left wing of Wellington’s army. As they reached the crest of the ridge they were met by the infantry of Sir Thomas Picton’s division. Picton, a foul-mouthed Welshman who rode into battle in a civilian coat and round-brimmed hat, was shot dead but his men stopped the French, who were then driven back by Wellington’s cavalry.

The next major French attack was very different. Ney unleashed his cavalry in a mass frontal attack, and thousands of Napoleon’s famous cuirassiers – big men in steel breastplates riding big horses – thundered up the hill. But Wellington’s infantry stayed calm. Forming squares, they presented in all directions a hedge of bayonets that no horse could be made to charge.

Ney needed to call the cavalry off or support them with infantry but he lost his head and threw more horsemen into the fray. When he abandoned these fruitless attacks, Wellington’s line was still unbroken, two hours had been wasted, and the Prussians were arriving in force.

The Prussians arrive

4.30pm – Blücher had promised to come to Wellington’s aid, and kept his word. Napoleon had detached nearly a third of his army under Grouchy to prevent the Prussians joining up with Wellington but Grouchy failed to do this and, by mid-afternoon, the first Prussian units were in action on the battlefield.

At about 4.30pm they launched their first attack upon the key village of Plancenoit near the rear of Napoleon’s main position. This savage battle would rage for over three hours. Faced with this, Napoleon was forced to send many of his remaining reserves to shore up his position – leaving him with precious few troops to exploit any success his troops might enjoy against Wellington.

Napoleon says no, and von Zeithen turns back

6.30pm – At about 6.30pm the French captured La Haye Sainte. Posting artillery and skirmishers around the farm, they unleashed a storm of shot, shell and musketry into Wellington’s exposed centre. The regiments there suffered horrendous casualties, but Wellington’s line held – just.

Ney asked for reinforcements to press home his advantage but Napoleon refused. Instead he sent troops to recapture Plancenoit which had just fallen to the Prussians. Von Zeiten’s Prussian I Corps arrived on the scene. These much-needed reinforcements were set to join Wellington when a Prussian aide de camp rode up with an order from Blücher instructing them to head south and support his troops at Plancenoit. Von Zeiten obeyed. Realising that Von Zeiten’s troops were desperately needed on the ridge, Baron von Müffling, Wellington’s Prussian liaison officer, galloped after Von Zeiten and pleaded with him to ignore this new order and stick to the original plan. The Prussian general turned back and took his place on Wellington’s left, enabling the duke to shift troops over to reinforce his crumbling centre. The crisis had passed.

Napoleon’s last roll of the dice ends in panic

7.30pm – With Plancenoit back in French hands the stage was set for the final act in the drama. At about 7.30pm Napoleon unleashed his elite imperial guard in a last desperate bid for victory. But it was too late – they were hopelessly outnumbered and Wellington was ready for them. His own troops had been sheltering from the French fire by lying down but when the two large columns of French guardsmen reached the crest of the ridge Wellington ordered his own guards to stand up. One British guardsman describes the scene: “Whether it was (our) sudden appearance so near to them, or the tremendously heavy fire we threw into them but La Garde, who had never previously failed in an attack, suddenly stopped.”

Meanwhile Sir John Colborne of the 52nd Light Infantry wheeled his regiment round to attack the flank of the first French column while General Chasse ordered his Dutch and Belgian troops forward against the other. Soon both French columns had withered away under the deadly fire. Their defeat led to widespread panic in the French army: amid cries of “La Garde recule” (“the Guard is retreating”) it dissolved into a disorderly retreat mercilessly harried by the Prussians. “The nearest-run thing you ever saw in your life,” as Wellington described the battle, was over.

This isn’t an exhaustive list but it will do.

Waterloo was a watershed moment for Europe, and indeed the world. The end of the Napoleonic Wars heralded a peace in Europe which was not broken until the outbreak of World War One in 1914. In the century following the Battle of Waterloo an increased respect developed for the figure of the soldier. True the Battle became mythologised in the nineteenth century and is now embedded in our cultural memory as one of the great British success stories.

We still celebrate Waterloo because it was a great British victory - even if we had a little bit of help from the Prussians. It embodied the British bulldog spirit and marked the moment we finally overcame Napoleon and his empire after a decade of being at war.

The ramifications from Waterloo and the Napoleonic Wars are still felt today in contemporary European politics. I think because of this the battle continues to fascinate and to court intense discussion and disagreement.

No doubt my French neighbour the retired army general and I will continue to stubbornly argue our differing viewpoints until the wine bottle empties. But we both agree that we would enjoy having dinner with Napoleon and talk about his military campaigns. I admire Napoleon a little more having read more and for living in France. He’d be a very amusing and stimulating companion.

In many ways, he was also an enlightened and intelligent ruler. His Code Napoleon is an extremely enlightened law code. At the same time this is a man who had a very, very low threshold for boredom. I think he was addicted to war.

General Robert E. Lee, at Fredericksburg said, “It is well that war is so dreadful, otherwise we would grow too fond of it.”

Napoleon would never have agreed with that. War was his drug. There’s no evidence that Wellington enjoyed war. He said after Waterloo, and I believe him, “I pray to God that I have fought my last battle.” He spent much of the battle saying to the men, “If you survive, if you just stand there and repel the French, I’ll guarantee you a generation of peace.” He thought the point of war was peace. And he sure gave not just Britain but also an entire European continent some respite from the spilling of blood on a battlefield.

Thanks for your question.

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Five

If you remember that post I made about the Red Resistance you’re a real one.

Notes: this one is very short. It’s just to move the plot along and blah blah blah. Next chapter is a good one I think.

The next time Scott showed up to the Red Desert it was for a petty fight that Scar had instigated by trying to steal directly from the Renchanting base. The situation made Scott face palm, and he contemplated not even showing up. However, when Jimmy offered to go in place of him, he told him not to bother. That he would be back in less than a day and night cycle.

Scott walked into the meeting just as the Red Army crested a hill. Which they stayed on. Scar yawned exaggeratedly and trekked up to his opponent, who was wearing a bandage on his left arm.

Cleo was also there. She seemed to be focused on drawing shapes in the cracked sand with the tip of her sword. Most likely feeling bitter about her former ally, Tango, joining Dogwarts. Everyone was paying as little attention as possible while Scar fired off false promises and white lies. Grian busied himself with apologizing to the nearest members of the Red Army for Scar’s embarrassment.

Scott was nearly falling asleep on his feet when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Tango.

“Hey Major, you got a minute?” he whispered.

“So many,” Scott responded, gesturing to the desolate state of their meeting.

The two of them quietly excused themselves from the group to speak in private. Scott didn’t know why he didn’t tell Tango to just leave him alone. Maybe it was because Tango had a certain air of reluctance about him, Scott was certain he pulled his punches. Maybe it was shear boredom.

“So, nice weather,” Tango observed the arid desert sky.

“Uh huh..” Scott provided, unimpressed.

Tango stared at him blankly. Awkwardly.

He cleared his throat, “so I heard about your battle with Skiz and Ren. Impressive,” Tango said.

“What is with you people and beating around the bush? We’re not friends,” Scott pushed Tango away by the middle of his chest, “Tango,” he reminded.

Tango looked hurt for a second, “ouch Major. Fine, I wanted to ask you to join me,” he said.

Scott burst out laughing, to which Tango scolded him and shook him by the shoulders. That shut him up, it also earned Tango a slap.

“Don’t touch me,” Scott ordered.

Tango put his hands up, “no touching here! But be quiet. I brought you over here alone for a reason,” he pointed out.

Scott glanced at his allies. Blissfully unaware of the possible treason he may have been about to commit.

“Nobody knows this yet,” Tango whispered, “but I’m spying on the Red Army,” he said.

“What?” Scott asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I have a plan. It involves you,” Tango responded.

Scott paused to consider if he was really about to entertain whatever was about to come out of Tango’s mouth.

“How do I know you’re not just trying to get close to me and then kill me on behalf of him,” Scott pointed at Ren, who was rolling his eyes at Scar and animatedly conversing with him about something Scott forgot about a long time ago.

“You remember the cow farm right?” he said.

“Yes,” Scott nodded suspiciously.

“I let you take my cow, on the promise that you and Jimmy wouldn’t tell anyone,” Tango recited.

“And we didn’t,” Scott said.

“Exactly. I know I can trust you, and I can’t trust them, Etho tried to kill me remember?” Tango pointed at Etho and Ren.

“So I want you to join me. Not the Red Army, me. Impulse is doing the same thing,” he concluded.

“Didn’t Impulse actually kill you?” Scott pointed out.

Tango waved his hand, water under the bridge.

Scott drifted off into contemplation. Everything about joining a coup against the Red Army screamed danger. More than usual. Dogwarts was a force to be reckoned with. They had superior gear, defenses, players, and alliances. Maybe Scott could cheap shot Martyn and Skizzle, but he could not promise that same luck against Etho or anyone else for that matter. The thought of even trying made his stomach turn.

And then there was Jimmy. If their plan didn’t work, what would happen to Jimmy? The Crastle? Or the Red Desert for that matter? The target on their backs was large enough. Scott had to take a step back. Since when did he get himself involved in a war?

Since he started defending himself, his mind provided.

Since he started standing up for his own freedom. For their freedom.

“Okay,” Scott said.

“Really? You’re in?” Tango’s eyes lit up, his joy was a bit loud for Scott’s new predilection for secrecy.

“Shh!” Scott put a finger in front of his face, “that’s not what I said…” he averted his eyes.

“I want to, believe me, I do,” he said, “but I can’t.”

Tango’s smile faded instantly, his red eyes grew disappointed, “Why not?” he seemed hurt.

“I have too much to lose. I can’t risk this,” Scott held the charm of his necklace up, it’s gemstone still shimmered bright green.

“Scott, I admire your devotion, I really do; but this is a bit bigger than that,” Tango said.

Scott’s expression fell into shock and reproach.

That seemed like enough of an answer for Tango, who backtracked as he realized he’d struck a nerve.

“I mean!” he corrected, “I mean nothing will happen to Jimmy. Cross my heart, he will be under the Red Resistance’s finest protection,” Tango stood up straight and crossed his heart.

Scott decided that was satisfactory. He made a face that said the opposite though, just to make sure Tango’s pride wasn’t too uplifted.

“Fine. I’ll join you Tango, but if I get even the slightest inclination of funny business, I’m out,” Scott cautioned, but he agreed.

“Terms and Conditions, I get it. The Red Resistance will not indenture any of its members,” Tango responded with a gleeful grin.

“You guys and your red themed names,” Scott teased, but held his hand out. They ought to make it official before everyone stopped snoring.

Tango shook it enthusiastically. The two called it done and Scott returned to his side, and Tango returned to the Red Army.

*****

Scott traveled back home that day. No fighting had taken place, although Scar had decidedly talked himself into a hole and ended up giving Ren access to any sand Dogwarts and their affiliates needed for the next week. It was no skin off Scott’s back, he didn’t care. Not his sand.

Wearing so much armor and standing in place for two hours gets on ones nerves. Taking off his heavy diamond chestplate felt like enough liberation for the day. He expected to hear from Tango or Impulse at some point, preferably soon.

Jimmy asked him how the meeting went when he returned, holding out a cup of coffee.

Unsure of whether or not to tell the truth, Scott lied, he said nothing happened and made fun of Scar for running his mouth so much. He said he was tired.

*****

“Scott? That you?” Tango’s voice came through a small door in his abandoned cow farm. It wasn’t needed anymore.

Scott pointed his torch towards the voice, illuminating a door, which Tango had crafted into the side of the underground farm.

“Yes it’s me. Why’s it so dark in here?” he asked.

“I don’t want people to know I’m still using this place, that’s why,” Tango motioned for Scott to come to him.

Tango silently listened for any sign that Scott had been followed, then pushed a stone slab in front of the hidden door with a silent thud.

On the other side of the door was a short hallway, then a very small room with some pillows on the floor and a table. A map of the server that included all the structures and members was pinned up on the wall. There was also a well loved notebook on the table.

“Where’s Impulse?” Scott asked, sitting down on one of the pillows.

“Ren needed him for something, he’ll probably be here next time,” Tango explained. He sat down and lit a candle to make more light.

“I thought we would start by going over the basics today,” Tango picked up the notebook and flipped through some of the pages absently.

Scott looked away and then back, “okay, shoot,” he said.

The “plan” centered around infiltrating the Red Army, convincing them (mainly Ren) that Scott had decided to switch sides. Then, him, Tango, and Impulse would eventually build their trust. Somewhere in there they would convince the Red Army to stop messing with people and come to an agreement with the rest of the server. Something about working together instead of against each other.

“We still have to work some stuff out,” Tango concluded with confidence.

“That’s the plan? You really think this’ll work?” Scott crossed his arms.

“If you can insult Scar convincingly enough, yes,” Tango said.

“Oh this’ll be easy!” Scott laughed, mostly to cover up his nerves.

Tango chuckled with him, then became serious once more, “I’m glad you have a sense of humor going into this. Even after what they did to you,” Tango said.

“I’m sorry about that, by the way,” he apologized.

Scott’s hands stung a bit in response, but he nodded a silent “thanks”.

They were quiet. Scott nervously fiddled with the hem of his coat, lost in thought, mostly regret.

Impulse did show up the next time. He arrived just after Scott did. Everyone sat awkwardly in the little room for a while and Scott was wrapped in nostalgia for a similar time. A time where the only threat was an obscene number of phantoms.

Over the course of their meetings, Scott observed his teammates and their actions. A far cry from who they used to be, including him. Scott’s hair had grown past his ears and turned purple at the tips, and he’d become rather paranoid about always wearing armor.

Tango spent much of their interactions lost in thought. The ghost of whatever was eating at him weighed visibly on his shoulders in the way his head was always bowed in a perpetual staring contest with the ground. He was irritable.

Impulse was a wild card to Scott, they’d never really met before; but it was clear he’d been changed as well. Illustrated by his long “mining” trips, which he only returned from to attend their weekly meetups with no resources to show for it, and a general aura of depression.

His mind was drawn back to the picture Cleo had taken of almost all his server-mates, together in front of the Vibe Machine. He’d studied everyone’s faces countless times. Mostly wondering where everything had gone wrong.

Had they ever truly been friends in the first place? Or was camaraderie a comfort when everyone else was just as weak as one another.

[indianamoonshine]

c h a p t e r | i

summary: every summer you work on your father's strawberry farm with your three sisters. it's a way to take a break from the big city but summers in the midwest are hot and they linger. this year, your father's old and mysterious friend shows up to stay on your land for a reason yet to be determined. din djarin seems dangerous, but kind enough, and the two of you quickly become...well, let's fact it...smitten.

rating: m (18+) for future and explicit sexual content.

author's note: reader is well over eighteen for obvious reasons. i won't ever go into physical detail about the reader's appearance because we include everyone. this fic is pretty much a mix between pride & prejudice and call me by your name except without the und*rage crap we do not condone. so, without further ado, here's an aesthetically pleasing fanfic.

the moment din djarin laid eyes on you he knew he was a dead man.

at first, his view of you had been obstructed because you'd opened every door and window in the house. june in the midwest sometimes required such nuisances, so all of the curtains billowing in the breeze prevented him from looking upon you.

you were also on the couch, but he hadn't known that until you lifted a hand - soft as a dove's - from the back of the sofa. you played with the light between your fingers, shielding its dazzling rays from your eyes, just before setting it down again. your hands were so small (smaller than his anyway) and gentle. he imagined how foreign your skin would feel in warm contrast to his; how your fingers would feel intertwined with his calloused ones, which had done enough work throughout the years to be mistaken for a beggar’s. within the first moment, he saw you as flawless.

your father had not stopped for breath since din arrived, lamenting about the farm or discussing the layout of the home with an eagerness din had yet to match. he would've initially been interested in the history of the farm or how many sprawling acres rolled endlessly before them, but his eyes couldn't leave your hand.

you must've been asleep - napping in the embrace of the sun - because as soon as your father drew breath upon entering the living room, your voice tickled din's ears for the first time. sweet as music.

"dad? is that you?"

din couldn't help but blink at the sound of your voice. it seemed unnatural, like one hears in dreams or spiritual awakenings. he manages to compose himself at your father's side, straightening his posture to err on the side of caution.

your father exclaims with a joyful "ah!" and then introduces you by name.

"my daughter. one of them, anyway. she and the three eldest help during the summer," he had said, and then turned to the bay windows to go on about the view.

but you meet din's eyes, rested and glimmering with curiosity, while your father droned on in the background. you reach out a hand - the one he'd thought of holding - to shake.

he does. and it's every bit as beautiful as he knew it'd be.

"how do you do?" you give him a polite and pretty smile. if he hadn't known any better, you bat your eyelashes for good measure.

your father's tour continues but din can't stop thinking about the way your skirt rose to your thighs as you stretched awake.

|||

you were lying if you said you didn't think about him for the rest of the day.

you weren't the only one. your sisters - all three of them - had also met the mysterious din djarin.

"who is he?" charlotte asked while you congregated at the nearby pond. it was a lovely place, nestled within the thick of the woods and bursting with greenery. flowers of every kind blossomed around you and scents the air with a sweetness.

rhea lays in the shade of a peach tree. "one of dad's old friends," she says. she waves herself with a floral paper fan she'd gotten from chinatown while visiting you in new york.

"but why is he here?"

madeline, who paints with her watercolors, pipes in. "i heard he got into some trouble with the law and now he's in hiding."

you roll your eyes with a scoff, lounging in the grass and watching the clouds in the bright, blue sky. "madeline, that's absurd."

rhea (who is the oldest and most pragmatic) surprises you when she shrugs her shoulders. "i don't know. he looks likes a bad boy..."

you recall the way his jaw clenched as you introduced yourself - his neck was tempting. his skin glowed with a radiant hue in the sunlight and his eyes shone with an aura of broodiness. he was very austenian.

"boy is hardly the word," you correct.

charlotte, being the flirt, wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. she swims in the pond, hair wet and fanning against the water. she sinks lowly for dramatic effect. "how right you are."

"trouble or not, he was a perfect gentleman." rhea sighs and skims the water with her forefinger. "either way, he's easy on the eyes so i don't mind having him around."

easy on the eyes was putting it mildly. you wouldn't say that to the girls though; they had a habit of teasing when you showed interest in anyone attainable let alone a man decades older than you.

"don't do anything stupid, charlotte." madeline dips her paintbrush into her mason jar full of pond water.

charlotte huffs and flips her hair from her shoulder. it makes a splash, rippling the water as a result. "why not? we're all of legal age."

"he's dad's friend and a guest," you remind her, tearing your gaze away from the clouds.

the middle child lets out a pathetic whimper. "you guys are no fun," she groans.

|||

it was a busy season on the farm.

strawberries were ready to be picked by mid june and there was a three week window to do it. harvesting wasn't easy and it took a lot of man work. hands went numb, skin grew calloused. the sun that beat down on the fields was only manageable by the sprinklers that went off every blessed-ed fifteen minutes. during a drought, it was even worse.

the employees picked from seven in the morning until five in the evening. your father was adamant that breaks be plenty and pay be as prosperous as he could afford, but a strawberry farm wasn't a fortune five hundred company. he did what he could to provide the families with some semblance worthy enough to continue, and so every year he threw a dinner party.

it was always a lovely occasion, brimming with delectable treats and savory entrees. candles were aflame, lanterns lit up the pathway that lead to the entrance of the home and then the land leading into the woods. as a child, the dinner party was as exciting as a birthday. it was a night to look forward to all year long, sharing time with family and friends and gorging yourself on food you wouldn't eat any other friday of the week.

your sisters loved it too, mostly because they enjoyed the promise of gossip that poured from the mouths of guests like the wine served. and now that din djarin - a stranger, in all respects of the word - was attending an annual dinner that's managed to keep as tradition for years, gossip would surely be abundant as the wine itself.

guests arrived by the hour until the clock struck seven. the evening was crisp but warm enough to be comfortable without a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. the rock doves sung loudly to declare that sunset had begun, a few rogue and early lightning bugs blinking rhythmically. children of the employees ran throughout the fields bare footed and chanting taunts to their friends as their parents chattered among themselves.

home. here is home.

while the party had already begun (officially, at least), dinner hadn't yet been served. admittingly, you were a bit behind schedule, but you worked quickly to finish setting the tables. the theme was simple; linen napkins and wildflowers in random antique vases you found in your basement. the lilacs you'd picked from their bushes were already beginning to limp but you hoped no one would notice.

you hum when you work. whether it be intentional or not you find your lips buzzing with a tune plucked subconsciously from your brain as your hands busy themselves. you straighten the tablecloths, fill the vases with water, and set the silverware in their particular order. needless to say, you had a tendency to get lost in your own little world. so when a hand gently tapped you on the shoulder, you spun around with a shriek.

din djarin - man of the hour - is smirking handsomely at you, hands fiddling with a depressed looking lilac. you place a palm against your heart and count its beats. too many.

"mister djarin," you sigh out. "you scared me."

he lets out a breathy chuckle, hands running through his wavy locks. "i see that. i'm sorry, but i was just wondering if you'd like some help."

his voice...oh, stars and garters. it was so rough but tender - like a steak. you cock an eyebrow at how strange the comparison is but convince yourself it didn't matter. still, you're blushing from the jump so you duck your head from his gaze.

"there's not much left to do," you admit, turning back to the table. you spread your hands against the tablecloth to ward off any wrinkles. "you can double check if i missed any forks, i suppose. i have a tendency to do that."

din hums in his throat and nods a little. "sure," he says, moving to the first setting. his eyes scan along the silverware carefully. "where are your sisters? they don't help, huh?"

"they're better at entertaining," you say truthfully. "i volunteer to take care of the dinner part...as long as i don't have to socialize as much i'm content."

it was true. it's not that you had an aversion to people in general, but you tried to avoid conversation whenever possible - it wasn't your strong suit. you could get away with it when need be but you found it took too much energy to pretend to enjoy conversation about the weather or politics.

"i understand," din nods. he straightens a spoon with the nudge of his finger. "i find myself to be the same way."

there's an awkward silence between the two of you. you didn't know how to respond. while you weren't good at social situations in general, you found it natural to feign interest in subjects bland enough to circumvent discomfort...but you felt the need to impress him.

"so you'll be staying with us this summer then?" you decide, falling short. how stupid.

din nods swiftly. "yeah. in one of the cabins."

the cabins were located at various points of the land your father owned. in order to get there, one usually took an ATV or walked if the going gets tough. you preferred to stroll along the river, but your sisters liked riding the four wheelers or their bikes.

"which one?" you ask, tone mindless.

din's finished with double checking your work. he pulls out a chair - an old, wooden antique - and sits down upon it with caution. you stifle a laugh and, if he notices, he doesn't say anything. he'd soon learn that everything here was old but sturdier than they looked. you wish you could say it was for aesthetic purposes but it was more convenient than anything.

"the one closest to the pond," din replies lowly.

you notice how his eyes survey your form and how intimate it was. he was studying you but for whatever reason you couldn't be sure. you try to shake away the idea that he could be (dare you say?) pining over you. how silly. like you told charlotte: din djarin was off limis.

that was the end of it.

you find yourself blushing again so you hide your face. "that's my favorite one," you tell him honestly. "i like the view."

din smiles in agreement. "so do i."

if you weren't so heated with frustration, you would've called him out on the implication (as out of character for you it may be). then again, you found yourself weakened by the mere presence of this man. it wasn't unlike you, per say; you were naturally timid but there was an eagerness to his charm that you weren't familiar with. guys your age were so sure of themselves but it was almost always under false pretenses. this man however...well, he was a man and that was intimidating.

fine. it was hot.

you clear your throat in an effort to regain a semblance of poise. this summer had already proven to be laborious in a way you hadn't expected.

[hiddendreamer67]

Giant Mers are Good Mers

That's right, it's MerMay baby! Introducing my new bois. Caspian is a giant siren with influences of Mediterranean monk seals and leopard seals. Beckett is a lil' human who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. This piece is a completed oneshot, but I've got a couple ideas for more oneshots with this pairing, including a few ideas for alternate universes (especially after seeing all the fun @ibis-gt seems to be having with AUs of their bois).

Word count: 6,001

Initial prompt idea: human was taken by a giant siren but then let go (on a whim / siren got bored) but human doesn’t know why they were spared so they come back to thank the siren. The siren doesn’t even remember doing that because it was such an insignificant event to them, but now it’s interesting because humans never came on their own.

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

Beckett had always been a simple fellow. He grew up in WhiteBridge, on a small town farm with his three older sisters picking on him ceaselessly. While he loved WhiteBridge and its quaint charms, Beck found his true passion in books, and studied at Oxford for several years before scouring the globe for his passion. In his quest for knowledge, Beckett chose to join a month-long excursion out at sea, and found himself regretting that decision a few weeks later.

“Steady on there.” One of the sailors, Michelle, handed him a pair of earplugs. “You’ll need these where we’re going.”

Beckett eyed the little pieces of foam dubiously. “And just where might that be?”

“Siren territory.”

Beck hardly believed in such fairy tales, but to calm the sailor’s superstitions he inserted the plugs as instructed. Siren tales aside, Beckett found himself growing as twitchy as the sailors. The coastline hadn’t been visible for ages due to a large amount of fog accumulation. The stormy skies were foreboding as well, indicating that proper precautions would need to be taken. This far north, the weather reports often indicated rocky waves far beyond what should be normal.

Would Beckett sink, out here in the middle of nowhere? Was that to be his fate? The young man began to fret, hastening to make himself useful as the first rolls of thunder sounded off and the waves grew steadily higher.

And then, he heard it. Beckett paused, arms slack on the rope as he attempted to hear that haunting melody. Was the weather playing tricks on him, or was someone calling out to him.

“BECK! EARS!”

Beckett blinked, stunned to find himself standing on the slippery railing. When did he get up here? Beck hastened to climb down, noticing the rest of the crew had their hands firmly clasped over their ears, even with the ear plugs inserted.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. Even with the double protection, the voice grew in volume, its booming voice penetrating into their heads. Every single person on board fell victim to its call, the ship’s captain turning the wheel to head towards the beckoning beast. Beckett climbed back up to the railing, plunging overboard into the crashing waves.

With a sputter, Beckett fought to keep his breath, legs kicking desperately against the current. Even in his desperate survival state, the voice called to him, and instinctively Beckett swam in the right direction to answer its call.

Every time the voice paused to take a breath, Beck would regain control for only a moment, his heart pounding as his fate flashed before his eyes with nothing to be done about it. Between one blink and the next, the sky grew darker, a looming shape breaching in the distance. Another blink, and Beckett’s face lost all complexion staring up at his demise.

A great sea serpent, half man half beast, towered with its human half over the pitiful human. With a single shift of its body, the beast created waves that threatened to pull Beck under. Those sharp features and piercing blue eyes were unforgettable, and subconsciously Beck realized this was the last face he would ever see.

Another blink. This time, when the serpent let out a hum, Beckett remained conscious but still out of his own control. His body was lax but his mind manic. The siren reached for him, slimy claws surrounding his form and making Beck shudder as he was raised 50 feet in the air in seconds. Beckett whimpered, coughing out sea water as his gaze was drawn down to the siren’s lips. The creature grinned and revealed its razor-sharp fangs. Taking a deep breath in, the siren revealed the cavernous depths beyond as it prepared to inhale its next meal.

Beckett pleaded nonsense pitifully, tears pouring down his cheeks as the haunting nothingness washed over his mind yet again. Would he even wake once more? Was the beast merciful enough to let Beckett go in his sleep?

When Beckett woke up, he thought he was dead.

He squinted, the sun too bright for his eyes. The sun? What happened to the storm? Stranger yet, the water that had soaked him to the bone was no more. Beck was dry, wrapped in blankets in a stranger’s bed.

“You’re awake.”

Beckett turned his head, his sore muscles protesting the movement. Beside him sat an older looking fellow, hair greying with age. “Who’re you?”

“The name’s Seymour.” Seymour introduced himself. “And who’re you?”

“Beck.” Beckett’s voice felt like he hadn’t spoken in days. “Am I dead?”

“No, but you tried awful hard.” Seymour assured him. “Found you passed out on the shore two days ago. Guessin’ you were part of some shipwreck? Though there wasn’t much wreckage to be found. Awfully impressive for you to have swam that far.”

Is that what happened? Beck frowned, trying to parse out the details. His body ached something terrible. He did remember swimming for a great distance. Had the siren all been a strange vision of his adrenaline-infused thoughts?

“...huh.” Beck settled back into the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. “I… didn’t know I could do that.”

“Well that, or an angel saved you.” Seymour chuckled. “You’re one lucky soul.”

Beck squinted in thought. If that’s what angels looked like, he could understand why all biblical depictions had humans cowering in fear.

(...was it an angel?)

Beckett spent some of the most confusing weeks of his life recovering from the shipwreck. Even as his physical form healed, Beck couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the events that transpired that night. He couldn’t get the notion out of his head that the giant sea serpent was real. It had all felt so lifelike, the claws and the fish breath and the dark melodious tones that haunted his dreams…

Seymour was kind enough to open his home to Beck, offering the traumatized lad a position maintaining his lighthouse while Beckett still fought to gather his wits. “Yer’ not the first.” Seymour assured him with a chuckle. “It’s no water off my back if you want to keep me company while you figure things out.”

You’re not the first. Beckett had cleared his throat, wanting to address that thought. “The other people who wash up on shore… did they ever… see anything?”

Seymour raised a patient eyebrow. “What do you mean, seen? Figure you lot have all seen a lot, what with the wreckage.”

“No, I mean, out at sea.” Beck felt foolish, twiddling his thumbs a bit. “Like a… like a merman.”

To his credit, Seymour did nothing more than a slow blink. “A merman.” He repeated.

“But, not a regular merman.” Beck winced at his own words. Just what was a regular merman? “A big one, like a hundred feet long, and pale white skin, and white locks of hair, and piercing blue eyes-”

“Kid.” Seymour cut him off. “I’ll tell it to ya straight. No, I ain’t ever heard nothing like that.”

Today, Beckett found himself on the cliffside, safely back from the edge as he watched the distant waves. His knees were tucked up to his chest, chin atop them as Beck sat lost in thought. Somewhere out there, Beckett’s giant captor- and later savior- was out there.

Why did the beast let him go? Even further than that, the siren had gone out of its way to give Beck a chance at life. There’s no way Beckett could have made it all the way to the shore on his own, disoriented as he had been.

Despite his better judgement, Beckett had to know the truth. With this foolish notion in mind, Beck set out a few months later, having rented a boat from one of the local fishermen. It took a lot of practice for Beckett to learn how to guide such a vessel, as every crest of a wave made the poor lad jump.

Seymour must think he was mad. Often the kind old man reminded Beckett that he didn’t have to conquer his fear of the waves directly, but Beck had just shook his head. Seymour couldn’t understand the debt Beck felt to the creature that had saved his life, and his curiosity kept him captive. Beckett wouldn’t be free until he had answers.

Of course, once he was out on the waters, Beck realized how foolish of a plan this truly was- he knew nothing about aquatic navigation. Every part of the ocean looked the same to him. Even worse, his memories of the last sea journey were extremely muddled. How on earth was he going to find the same location?

And even as Beck drifted in waters that may or may not be similar, the human realized he had no surefire way of gaining the siren’s attention. He settled for calling out often, hoping his carrying voice would be enough. Did the beast understand english? It was deceptively human-looking.

Beckett’s throat grew parched, and Beck sat down a moment to take careful sips of water from his dwindling bottle. The sky was growing darker, and a familiar fog had begun to roll in. An eerie chill began to creep up the back of Beckett’s neck. Suddenly, this plan wasn’t feeling so wise.

That’s when he heard it. The familiar song of his dreams was echoing across the water. Beck had forgotten the feeling, his limbs stiffening against his will like a marionette pulled taunt.

Blink. A gigantic fish tail, just the tip cresting the waves. Blink. Beckett found himself in the waves, gasping as he kicked frantically to keep his head above water. Blink. All too soon, Beck found himself clasped between those claws, water dripping from his locks as he stared at those terrifying chompers.

Oh god. This was a terrible idea. What should he do? What was there to do? All the blood left Beckett’s face, watching the siren lick its lips. It raised Beck higher, dangling the human by the back of his shirt above a now gaping maw. Beckett let out an unholy screech, realizing he had made a terrible mistake.

Beckett squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the words out of his lungs before he never got the chance again. “WHY DID YOU SPARE ME?!”

To Beck’s great relief, he didn’t find himself lowered onto the beast’s tongue. Instead, after the longest pause of Beckett’s life, he opened his eyes to see the siren’s mouth had gone slack.

“What?”

Beck’s eyebrows shot up into his scalp, shocked to hear the siren actually speak. Guess that meant it understood english, too. Beckett cautiously raised his gaze, meeting the siren’s eyes instead of its teeth. The creature looked confused, to say the least.

“You-” Beck cleared his throat, knowing he had to keep the siren’s attention lest he become a meal. “You spared me.” The siren’s brow furrowed further. Beckett frowned. “You… you saved my life? I mean, first you threatened it, but… 3 months ago? You- our ship, and the song, and… I woke up on the shore…”

Unfortunately, despite being the most momentous occasion of Beckett’s life, the giant sea serpent didn’t seem to have given the night a second thought. Beck couldn’t stop the sinking feel in his chest, knowing this whole journey was pointless after all.

The siren slowly shook his head. “That sounds unlike me.”

“It’s true!” Beckett insisted, especially because his life seemed to be on the line. “I was baffled too, but for some reason you spared me, and-and I don’t know why either! It’s been driving me insane. Why else would I sail all the way out here trying to find you?”

“You came looking for me?” This, at least, caused the siren to raise an interested eyebrow. “That would be a first.”

Beck nodded quickly. “Yes! I’ve been shouting for you all day. And before that I’ve been training for weeks, saving up for a downpayment to borrow Ben’s boat, which I’ll probably be losing now that I have no idea where that ended up…” Beckett grimaced, once again meeting the siren’s gaze. “Sorry, I’ve been told I have a tendency to sidetrack conversations in uncomfortable situations. Boat’s not important. Please don’t eat me.”

To both of their surprise, the siren let out an amused snort, the hot fishy air rustling Beck’s hair.

“I apologize for that.” The creature had the decency to look sheepish, even as its words curdled Beckett’s blood. “It’s nothing personal.”

“Wait, what?!” Beckett immediately began screeching, attempting to squirm out of the claws still holding him captive.

“Stop!” The siren hissed, his grip tightening painfully around Beck’s ribs. “You will fall with that behavior.”

Beck winced, continuing to struggle against the crushing appendages. “That was kind of the idea. I choose waves over teeth.”

“Waves over…?” The siren shook his head. “No, you misunderstand. I will not eat you.”

Beck found that hard to believe. He squinted, judging the gigantic face before him even as the pressure stayed tight around his chest. “So, you were going to?”

“Yes.”

“But now you’re not.”

“Yes.”

“...why?”

“Because you’re quite interesting, little human.” The siren admitted. “Your question confuses me. Do you want to be eaten?”

Beck chose wisely to avoid that question. “My name’s Beckett.” He said instead. “Beck, for short. Not little human, or anything.”

The siren blinked. It must be strange putting a name to your not-food. “My name is Caspian.”

Caspian. For some reason, Beck hadn’t actually pictured the siren having a name. Or talking. Or generally possessing much humanity at all… the self-reflection made him feel a bit guilty.

“It’s nice to meet you, Caspian.” Beck greeted. He glanced around, realizing the sun had finished setting. “Can we circle back to the boat issue? I mean, I’m glad this hasn’t ended fatally, but it is getting late.”

“Hold on.” Caspian frowned. “You spent all that effort to reach me, only to leave? Little Beck, your story has holes.”

“No, no no no.” Beck quickly shut that down, hastily trying to avoid any possibility of a vengeful siren. “No that’s not it at all. It’s just, your time must be very valuable, and I don’t want to intrude. And also, contrary to popular belief, I'm not a great swimmer. Hence the boat.”

“Hmm.” Caspian seemed to consider this for several moments. The giant seemed to reach a conclusion, but Beck was uncertain what it was as he was raised up above Caspian’s head. “Climb on.”

“Climb on?” Beck repeated, confused.

“And hold on tight.” Caspian advised, opening his palm and tilting it so that Beck slid off with a yelp. “I was under the impression you need air to survive?”

“YES! Yes, that is- yes, I need that.” Beckett confirmed, quickly grabbing onto Caspian’s hair as best he could. Not the easiest task in the world with how everything, including himself, was soaked. Nevertheless, Beck was wise enough to prepare himself for whatever a massive sea serpent might have planned.

Without further warning, Caspian lowered himself into the water, only keeping the top of his head above the waves for Beck’s benefit. Beck hastily lowered himself onto his stomach, not wanting to slide off Caspian’s head as the mer began to swim through the ocean faster than a speedboat.

“Where are you going!” Beck shouted above the wind whipping at his face. He squinted, trying to see where the siren was headed but having no luck. Were they swimming to the boat? Had Beck really gotten so far away from it?

Unfortunately, the siren himself offered no answers. The night sky and fog did not help Beck’s visibility. In these conditions, he was practically blind.

After several minutes of this less-than-ideal water travel, Caspian came to an abrupt stop. Beck frowned, finding himself staring at a rocky cliffside shore. Was Caspian trying to return him to the lighthouse again? But none of this looked familiar…

Caspian raised his head above the waves, sending Beck scrambling to keep his hold. It didn’t matter, as those familiar claws came up and plucked the human from Caspian’s hair.

“Hold your breath.” Caspian advised. This was Beck’s only warning as he was cupped between Caspian’s hands, the mer diving beneath the surface.

Thankfully, Beckett was intelligent enough to take the warning to heart. He held his breath, eyes squeezed tightly shut to avoid getting saltwater in them. The pressure became quite intense as Caspian dove several dozen meters down with ease. It made Beck feel like his head would pop at any moment. Was Caspian trying to drown him? But why go through all the effort of telling Beck to hold his breath, if only to drag it out?

Just as Beck could take it no longer and felt on the verge of passing out, Caspian breached the surface. Immediately Beck began to suck in large gulps of air, snorting to get the water that got stuck unpleasantly up his nose.

Despite being above the surface, Beck couldn’t see anything. He tried not to panic, heart racing thanks to all the uncertainties of the situation. “Where- where are we?”

“Home.”

Caspian’s answer only brought on further questions. Home? What kind of home did a gigantic merman have, anyway? Slowly his human eyes began to adjust to the darkness, noticing that bioluminescent moss seemed to give the space just enough light to see the outlines of shapes. It appeared they were in some sort of underground cavern, the water lapping against a craggy water-worn shore.

“Ah, yes. Of Course. Home.” Beck tried not to think about the several deadly reasons a wild animal might welcome him into its living space. But thankfully, Caspian wasn’t just an animal. He could talk, he seemed half human- that had to amount to something, right?

Of course, Caspian had still planned to eat him. So. There’s that.

“You’re still not gonna eat me, right?” Beck asked, not about to leave something so important to chance.

“Right.” Caspian sighed, as if the question were a mild annoyance and not tied to Beckett’s entire livelihood. “But you have disturbed my hunting time. I’m hungry.”

“Not sure that’s entirely my fault…” Beckett murmured to himself.

Caspian lowered his cupped palms to the rocky shore, setting Beck down away from the water’s edge. “Stay here.”

“Wha-? Stay here?” Beck became alarmed, taking a few nervous steps to catch his footing on the slippery slope. “Where are you going?”

“Do not worry.” Caspian assured Beck, easing himself back into the water. “I’ll bring you back something to eat as well.” With that, Caspian dove back into the water, leaving Beck alone in this dark murky cave.

Beckett blinked, shocked to find himself alone in this enclosure. “I don’t think he knows what humans eat.” Beck grimaced, not eager to see just what Caspian would be bringing back for him. Would it be wriggling? Slimy? Would it be human? The thought made Beck want to throw up.

Beckett shivered, feeling chilly now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. He found himself in an unknown underwater cave off the coastline somewhere, still soaked to the bone in his wet rags. The icy temperature in here was freezing, and the water wasn’t any warmer. Was Beck going to die of frostbite here? How long was Caspian planning on keeping him prisoner?

Beckett walked up and down the shore, looking for any driftwood or materials to make a fire. He had no luck, of course, but even if he had Beck didn’t know the first thing about starting a fire. So with nothing to warm himself, what should Beck do? Beckett knew from all the books he’d read on environmental conditions that staying in his wet clothing was one of the worst strategies for survival, but standing around naked in the freezing cave didn’t sound any more appealing. Not to mention, Beck had no way of drying his clothes even if they left his person. He would just have to put the soaking wet rags back on eventually.

Making a foolish decision, Beck kept his clothes on in the hopes that his own body temperature would help dry them eventually. Coming from the man who went out to sea to search for his would-be murderer all day, perhaps Beck shouldn’t be treating himself as a good source for advice.

“What was I thinking?” Beck murmured, pacing back and forth to try and keep the blood flowing to his extremities. His fingertips were growing numb, and Beck shoved them in his armpits to try and keep them warm.

Should he try and escape? Beckett guessed there must be some underwater entrance to this cavern, but there was no way of knowing how deep he would have to dive to reach it, how long the tunnel itself was, nor how high he’d have to swim to reach the surface on the other side. Beckett wasn’t known to be a particularly decent swimmer. Even just the idea of getting in the water right now made Beck shudder, not eager to get soaking wet once more.

Beckett let out a yawn, the excitement of the day catching up to him. He was cold, and tired. Nothing sounded better than stripping off these clothes and lying down in a warm, dry bed back at Seymour’s.

Oh gosh, Seymour. What was the old man gonna think when Beck didn’t return home like he claimed? He knew Seymour had little faith in Beck’s sailing abilities, but Beckett had foolishly promised to be careful. Would Seymour mourn him? Worse yet, would Seymour try to send out a rescue? What if Caspian found him and wasn’t so merciful?

Beckett was dead on his feet by the time the water began to shift. Beck slapped himself out of his stupor, standing to attention in his semi-dry clothes as the giant merman emerged.

Caspian pulled himself partially up onto the shore, holding out one hand to Beck. As expected, none of this looked edible in its current form. There was a live octopus, still wriggling around, a half dozen oysters, a few slimy eels, and a few other squirming entities Beckett wasn’t certain how to classify.

“Oh, thanks.” Beck tried to keep the disgust off his facial features. Even with not eating all day, Beck didn’t have much of an appetite. But would Caspian be mad if Beck didn’t eat it? It’s not like Beckett asked for it in the first place...

“I was uncertain what you would like.” Caspian admitted, a soft frown gracing his features as he nudged the human with his fingertips, encouraging Beck to eat. “Will this be good for you? Do not be shy, I ate my fill already.”

Beck cleared his throat. “Well, uh, some of this is what humans can eat, but we don’t eat it… raw. Or alive, usually.”

“Hmm.” Caspian considered this for a moment, taking one of the eels between his claws. Caspian raised the creature to his lips. In one swift motion, Caspian used his fangs to tear off the eel’s head, sending a small spurt of blood spattering down.

Beck cried out, quickly covering his head with his arms to try and avoid getting caught in the rain. “COOKED! IT NEEDS TO BE COOKED!” Beck hastily corrected, turning a bit green as Caspian tried to once again offer him the bloody corpse. “It needs to be prepared right, too, I don’t think I’m supposed to eat a lot of stuff found in live fish, they usually gut ‘em and stuff, and I’ve never been one for sushi in the first place.”

Caspian licked his lips, clearing away the blood stains as he tilted his head like a pup. “What do you mean, ‘cooked’?”

Beck slowly uncovered his head, thankful Caspian seemed to have backed off for a moment. “Right, cooked.” Beck nodded to himself. “Guess you wouldn’t know what that is, living in the ocean and all. Um, do you know what fire is?” It was Caspian’s turn to nod. “Wait, you do? How?”

“Fire chokes out life.” Caspian explained. “It creates the smoke and the ash that destroys the shores.”

“Well… yeah, I guess it does do that, sometimes.” Beckett admitted. “But we use it in smaller, healthy doses. You use it to cook your food, usually heating it up and changing it to be healthy.”

Caspian seemed more confused the further this conversation went on.

“Unfortunately, there’s no fuel here anyways.” Beck gestured to their surroundings. “And I don’t know how to make a fire anyways, so-”

“No fire.” Caspian said sternly. He sounded more like a stern parent, banning experimentation with firecrackers in the house.

“No fire.” Beck confirmed. He glanced at the ceiling. “Probably wouldn’t have been the best idea anyways, all enclosed like this. But anyways, no. I can’t accept your fish. Thank you, it was very kind of you, I’ll be forever grateful, but if I eat that I will be sick.”

“...hmm.” Caspian looked- disappointed? Frustrated? It was hard to tell the mer’s emotions, but Caspian at the very least seemed to understand Beck’s meaning, as he pulled his handful of fish back to himself. With a thoughtful expression, giving Beck one last option to protest, Caspian tilted the whole mixture into his mouth, chewing it into a paste and swallowing with ease.

Gross. Beck kept this thought to himself, grateful he was not on the other side of Caspian’s abs himself as the pleased merman gave his stomach a few pats.

“Then what will you eat?” Caspain asked, laying down to be more at eye level with the little man.

“Well, uh, I suppose I can always eat after I get home.” Beckett chose his words carefully, still uncertain what Caspian’s intentions were. “My friend would usually make meals with me. Stew, most of the time.”

Caspian’s eyebrows furrowed. “I can make stew with you.”

“No, you can’t.” Beck corrected. Gently. “No fire, remember? Fire’s needed for stew, too. And we don’t have any of the other ingredients. Vegetables, seasonings, broth, cooked meat… stuff like that. And any we got in here would be soaked with sea water, and that’s not great for humans either.”

The giant siren seemed displeased with this answer, obviously intent on keeping the human alive. This, at least, was one positive note in a storm of negativity for the evening.

With a displeased hum, Caspian reached out his hand towards Beckett. Instinctively Beck flinched away, worried the siren had gotten bored and wanted to do away with him, but all that happened was a giant digit began carefully stroking the top of Beck’s head and down the length of his back.

“Uh...what are you doing?” Beck asked, still stiff as a board.

Caspian didn’t seem inclined to answer. Instead he tilted his head, curious blue eyes intently studying Beckett. “Can you sing?”

Beckett blinked. “Can I what?”

“Can you sing?” Caspian repeated, and after Beck gave a nod: “sing for me.”

“Oh, well, I can sing, but not very well, mind you.” Beck admitted, looking a bit sheepish. The stage had always been his sister’s forte. “Certainly not to your caliber. I don’t think you want to hear me sing at all, actually.”

“Yes I do.” Caspian insisted gently. “Sing.”

Beck let out a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for such a task. What song does one even use to serenade a siren? After careful consideration, Beckett selected an old nursery rhyme from his childhood, both for its brief length and easy melody.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star-” Beckett began, his voice shaking. He cleared his throat, trying to project a bit more even as Caspian leaned in to hear. “How I wonder what you are. Like a diamond in the sky, up above the world so high…”

Beckett had shut his eyes, trying to forget about any pressures to perform. A nice benefit to this impromptu concert is that Caspian had paused his petting to allow Beck to focus. “Twinkle twinkle, little star… how… er, ...up… ah…y’know what? I’ve forgotten the last line, actually.”

Beck grimaced, opening his eyes. Caspian was as difficult to read as ever, the siren’s face passive as Beckett awaited any sort of review.

“That was it?” Caspian clarified.

“Yeah, not a very long song.” Beckett agreed. “Meant for children, y’know? Just to… well I don’t know the point of it, actually, I guess it’s just something to sing.”

“Ah.” Caspian drummed his fingers along the rocks. “It was…”

Beckett waited not so patiently. “Well?” He spoke up. “I told you I’m a lousy singer.”

Considering the siren made no effort to disagree, Caspian held the same opinion, yet he wore a pained expression. Perhaps Caspian had held out hope for Beck after all? But then again, even if he were a renowned opera singer, how could a human voice ever possibly appeal to a siren?

“I thought everyone could sing.” Caspian admitted quietly.

For some reason, this bashful admission is what finally set Beck roaring with laughter. Beck clutched at his sides, doubled over with mirth as a concerned siren watched. Caspian let out a noise of concern, reaching out his hand to prod Beck in the side.

“No- I’m good!” Beck hastily assured him, pushing away the finger as if he had any chance of telling the siren what to do. “It’s just- ah, fuck. What a day, you know?” And with that, tears began to pour down Beckett’s cheeks, the poor exhausted boy helpless to stop them as he alternated between laughing and sobbing.

Now Caspian let out a whine, the trill noise echoing across the cavern walls as Caspian scooped the human up into his hands. Beck gasped, momentarily without air as he was forced against Caspian’s chest. “Shh, shhh.” Caspian hushed him, patting his back like he was a child.

Well, what did it matter? Beck felt like a child. He was tired, and hungry, and cold, and he just wanted to go home. Unable to work on any of those things, Beckett tried instead to take the comfort that was given to him, so overwhelmed by the day that this might as well happen.

Beck hiccupped, his tears still coming but too exhausted to keep wailing. Beckett leaned into Caspian’s chest, the smooth seal texture feeling surprisingly warm and dry for a creature that spent most of its life in the ocean. If he focused, Beck could hear a rhythmic thumping. It was Caspian’s heart, just on the other side of this ribcage.

“I wanna go home.” Beck murmured, more to himself than the siren who wouldn’t listen. “I just wanna go home.”

A rumbling sensation filled Beck’s ears, which he slowly recognized as Caspian’s singing. Beck closed his eyes, allowing himself to succumb to the call.

…

“...Beck?”

---

“-OI! Wake UP!”

Beck coughed, startled awake as he found himself once again doused in sea water. He blinked, disoriented to feel the surface beneath him was rocking like a boat. Before Beck could ponder that out, a bright light shined directly in his eyes, making him squint.

“Blimey, you look half dead.” Seymour whistled, taking stock of Beck’s appearance.

“I...what?” Beck frowned, looking around. They were on a boat. What happened? Last thing he remembered, Caspian had been coddling him like a wounded babe. “Where’s Caspian?”

“Who?” Seymour didn’t have a clue.

“Caspian! I- the giant siren!” Beck looked around, trying to spot anything in the darkness of night.

“Boy, I think you swallowed too much seawater.” Seymour shook his head, easing Beck back down. “Take it easy, you’re lucky to be alive.” Seymour pulled out an emergency orange blanket, wrapping it firmly around Beck’s shoulders. It was only then that Beck came to the startling conclusion he was naked, stripped of his wet clothes entirely. At least he could see them lying on the deck as well.

“The voice.” Beck insisted, staying down only because his head felt dizzy. “You must have heard him singing? He was singing. What’d I miss this time?”

Seymour had no answers, as far as giant sirens went. Instead, he explained his side of things. “When you didn’t come back yesterday, I came out to look for ya.” Seymour explained. “You must have a guardian angel after all. Caught you in my sights only by change with the spotlight, adrift in the waves. No idea how the hell you’ve got a speck of life in you, jumping in without a liferaft or lifejacket or nothin’. Holy hell son, ya got a death wish, there’s easier ways of going out.”

“I- what?” Beck frowned. “No, that… that’s not what happened.”

“Hypothermia can cause hallucinations.” Seymour swore under his breath. “Shit, you’re in a worse state than I thought. Never should have let you come out here alone in the first place, nevermind with Ben’s boat. He’s gonna kill ya, y’know, if you do manage to survive the night.”

“Didn’t mean to lose the boat.” Beckett rubbed at his eyes. “Got left behind on the way to the caverns.”

“To the caverns, he says.” Seymour rolled his eyes, handing Beck a warm thermos. “Drink. Sit. And don’t fall asleep.” With these last instructions, Seymour moved over to the captain’s chair, starting the motor and steering the boat back towards shore.

Beck stared at the waves passing by, sipping gently at the contents of the thermos. Tasted like hot lemon tea. Beck would have preferred hot chocolate, if shipwreck survivors were allowed to have preferences.

Was it a shipwreck? Did he jump in? No… no it was Caspian, wasn’t it? Dumb seal’s fault for it all. That, Beck was certain. Too bad he couldn’t charge the siren for Ben’s boat.

Before, Beck had barely escaped with his life, lost and confused about his potential giant savior. Now, he knew so much more than he had before. Caspian was real. Caspian’s name was Caspian. Caspian had intended to eat him, didn’t, and then let him go. Caspian had forgotten him.

Would Caspian forget him again? Why did that notion make Beck feel so uneasy?

It wasn’t like Beck owed Caspian anything, truly. The guy had saved his life twice now, but only after endangering it in the first place. But why did Caspian let him go this time? It seemed as if Caspian was intent on keeping him around like some sort of amusing lil’ pet. What had changed?

Beck’s mind was too tired to process through such things. He sipped more of the tea, growing drowsy.

“No sleeping!” Seymour yelled.

“Yes sir!” Beck jolted upright, regretting it when his head pounded. The sound of the waves had changed. Beck could hear them crashing against the shore, indicating they were almost to the dock.

Seymour expertly steered the ship into the harbor, a feat which took a good deal of skill in the middle of the night. Once securely fastened, Seymour offered Beck a hand, hauling the boy to his feet and keeping Beck steady all the way up to the lighthouse.

“Alright, in you get.” Seymour instructed, easing Beck into bed. He piled more blankets onto Beckett, disappearing briefly to grab a warm compress which he placed on Beckett’s forehead.

“I really did see him.” Beckett murmured, closing his eyes as the warmth lulled him into a deep slumber.

Seymour let out a low sigh. “I’m sure you did.” Seymour murmured, patting Beck’s arm.

[recurring-polynya]

POLYNYA please tell me about the sea/your Soul Society sea(s)!!!!! (I also wanna talk about the sizes of things but I will save that for later, haha.)

My entire writing/worldbuilding self is just an agglomerate of about 10 different books/comics I read when I was 19, and one of those is Books of Magic. The major thing I took away from Books of Magic, a thing I think about every single time I read or watch something with a magic system, is the idea that humans have their own magic which is fundamentally different and in some ways more powerful than the magic of magical beings, and that they aren’t bound to a lot of rules and restrictions that magical beings are. A lot of media that features other worlds tends to split into the human world (which has no magic) and the magic world (which has magic). Sometimes the human world has technology and the magic world doesn't, I don't care, that is boring to me and I reject the idea that magic is technology you don’t understand. The thing about Books of Magic, which featured a lot of traffic between the human and the faerie realm, was that humans can do magic that faeries can't. Faerie magic is all illusion and glamour. It cannot affect real change. It is much harder for humans to do real magic, but their magic can actually transform things.

This is foundationally the way I approach worldbuilding in Soul Society. It seems like Soul Society is more powerful and magical than the World of the Living, but that’s only true for a limited set of circumstances, and much of Bleach takes place within those circumstances. Taken in a broader sense, though, Soul Society is not a complete world, it is a projected world, constructed of memories and ideas. Hueco Mundo is the same, but it's even less complete. My husband always gets really irritated by physically impossible moons, like this one:

but I actually think that's appropriate, because it's not the moon, it's the concept of the moon and this is a very romanticized concept of the moon. You cannot build a rocket in Soul Society or Hueco Mundo and get to the moon. The earth is not round in Soul Society. Its borders are limited.

What is Soul Society even for, anyway? I have been watching Hotel del Luna, a kdrama about a hotel where ghosts can stay for a little while and rest and work out some of their issues before they go to the afterlife. I feel like Soul Society is the next step after this. It is too big a shock to go from being a human to becoming a few motes of reishi, so you get another stage of retaining your human form and living a half-life where you don't need to eat or drink and your family has the idea of being a family without all the actual past-to-future connective tissue of a family. It's my impression that when you die in Soul Society, you don't get reincarnated as yourself. You become reishi, and that reishi gets mixed up with everyone else’s and new souls are created when new human children are born. Soul Society is also a sorting mechanism for separating out powerful sources of spiritual energy (that is, shinigami) and putting them to work as balancers, while letting the less volatile soulstuff flow through the reincarnation cycle without cavitating the impellers, so to speak.

That being said, seas are important. I have lived my entire life on the east coast of North America, never more than a few hours from the Atlantic Ocean. I think about moving inland sometimes and I think I would die. My husband grew up in the mountains and he feels a similar connection to the mountains, you can feel him becoming more powerful every time we drive north. I think it is necessary that Soul Society contain the geographic features that anchor people to the physical world, because ghosts need these things to feel as though they are still people and not vague amorphous spirits.

You need a sea. Also, as noted in the post that inspired this one, people in Soul Society eat a lot of fish and it’s gotta come from somewhere. So I think there is at least one sea in Soul Society (I like to put it in East Rukongai), but this is a sea built on human memories, it is not a sea based on the power of the sea, because that is not a thing that can exist in Soul Society. You can fish in the sea and you can swim in the sea, and an ocean god visiting from another realm might be able to pull a little power from this sea, but it is not a true sea. You need a different magical realm for that, a Sea Society, if you will. The Living World, in contrast, is a true world with true oceans, which draw their power from the Sea Society, just as there is death in the Living World because of its connections to Soul Society and other assorted afterlives. (it has been 2 sentences and I am already sorry I called it Sea Society).

Earlier, I mentioned that the borders of Soul Society are limited, and I think that it is surrounded by impassable no-man’s-lands on all sides that, if you could cross them, would lead you into a different dimension. This is not my original idea, it’s something I have picked up from numerous fanfics, but I think it’s a good one and I am adopting it. I think that, as a border between Soul Society and something else, each of these borderlands represents different kinds of death. I think I’ve figured they are a jungle, a desert, a mountain and, of course, an ocean. 

The power of the ocean encompasses both life and death, but this ocean or at least this part of this ocean is only death. It is cold and it is dark and it is full of things with horrible teeth. If you sail a boat into it, you will not come back. I do not think that dimensional borders are, well, two-dimensional, so to speak-- if you could somehow cross this ocean, you might end up in Sea Society, or you might end up in some other death realm, because a lot of afterlives are connected and you get to a lot of them via waterways. The Slavic afterlife, Nav, for example, is ringed with a river, and you cross the Styx to get to Hades. Come to think of it, both of these are sometimes portrayed as being full of unhappy spirits, so maybe the death ocean is an afterlife in and of itself.

This is a little off the topic of oceans, but it is on the topic of natural resources. For all we know, everything that everyone eats in the Seireitei is grown in reishi vats, like the chickienobs in Oryx and Crake. That actually makes more sense, honestly, than fishing and farming, but I have always assumed that many of the upper districts of Rukongai do, in fact, have Nice Things, which turns into jobs and commerce and an improved class of life. The quality and quantity of these resources thins out severely as you go outward. Why don't people in Inuzuri grow their own food, I asked myself? Well: poor soil. Unpredictable, violent weather, so if you can get anything to come up, it either bakes or drowns. A general miasma of low-grade toxins in the air that tend to stunt growth or prevent things from breeding true. Obviously, I think about South Rukongai more than I think of other directions, but I think it’s easy to imagine this process also working as you approached cold rocky mountains with cutting winds and rockslides, or dry, dusty desert where it never rains.

The canon concept of Soul Society is that everything in Rukongai sucks and everything in the Seireitei rules, but this honestly vexes me constantly. It must be ungodly expensive to own and maintain property in the Seireitei, which is why most of the shinigami seem to lead solidly middle class lifestyles and take advantage of on-base living arrangements even though they are allegedly the best of the best. If you're a noble, and especially not Great Family noble, I think it may make sense to maintain a large estate in a pretty part of Rukongai as opposed to a townhouse in the city-- I've mentioned the Kira family estate before, in North Rukongai, which, in my mind, is sort of overgrown and run-down, very Wuthering Heights. Alternatively, if you are super-rich, maybe you have a second property out somewhere nice, hence the Lake District. Did I just make these places up because I want to set a fanfic there someday? Probably yes. 

When I was writing Between Tides, the most basic, raw part of that story was just "Rukia and Renji get sent on a lonely mission near the sea" that was the thing I wanted to write. Back when it lived in my head, it originally took place in Soul Society, but I wanted it to have a melancholy, tourist-town-in-the-off-season vibe, and that didn’t feel like a place that would exist in Soul Society, so I moved it to the World of the Living. I guess I feel like if there’s beach tourism at the Soul Society Sea (I should name it but then I would be forced to write a story about it), it would be sort of Old Timey, and I’d don’t know much about what an Old Timey Trip to the Beach would look like in Japan, if that’s even a thing.

Anyway, sorry this was so rambling, this concludes my thoughts about THE SEA in Soul Society. I am happy to hear everyone else’s headcanons, please and thank you.