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sevilemar · 10 months

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I put your two asks into one post, nonny, because it's easier for me this way.

I have to say Idealist Media confuses the heck out of me, like V is for Vendetta for example. I've seen other Idealist vibe with that movie, and I feel like I'm sitting in a corner, not getting it and having only silence radiating from me. There's no connection there.

That's not a bad thing. Some things just don't work for us, and that's OK. We are allowed to have different opinions on things.

I don't remember much about V for Vendetta, except that I did find something in it that worked for me, or that I found interesting. There is a million things it could be though, and most of them have nothing to do with shc. And since I have no possibility to re-watch it atm, I couldn't tell you what it was.

Loyalist media is my jam. I could rewatch the Witcher 1st season over and over, I love the characters (except for the idealist one, but she'smore annoying than not) when snake Jaskier asks Gerald is he maybe short of a marble for going to rescue a crazy witch, that's my jam.

Season one of Witcher is pretty awesome, I agree. I love how the fight in Blaviken was filmed, and Geralt, Jaskier and Yennefer and their dynamic are to die for. Also, yay for fantasy that's based on a different cultural background, something I feel more at home in.

I hate being called an idealist, I think all the ideals I'm ready to argue over even with my family and friends are based not around ideals but around people and some group I find a slight personal connection with being hurt. Personal, people based, but in idealist language.

OK, let's get something straight: the shc terminology is not the best when we're looking at the idealist/loyalist divide. Framing it like that suggests that 'loyalists' have no ideals, and that 'idealists' are not concerned about people, or even that ideals cannot concern the people in front of you. Which is all bullshit, of course. Being loyal to the people in front of you is very much an ideal, for example.

That's why I think shc needs new words for it, to be honest. In my experience, 'idealists' look for the bigger picture (as many people as possible, the system we live in, etc.) because they believe that affecting as many people as they can is the best way to achieve whatever their goals are.

They get strength from believing that whatever they are doing, they are hopefully affecting a lot of people. That's why I like to call them big picture thinkers.

'Loyalists' look for the people closest to them, because they believe that affecting them as directly as they can is the best way to achieve their goals. And because not every goal has a direct and noticeable impact, their goals are usually much smaller in scope.

They get their strength from having as much immediate and concrete impact on whoever is around them, and being there to see it. That's why I like to call them concrete thinkers.

I am not perfectly happy with this definition either, but maybe it can help you see the whole idealist/loyalist thing from a different angle, nonny, and take away some of the negativity around the words that I can read in your asks.

But I can't be a loyalist, I have no people of my own, I have no group loyalties,

Just because you do not have people or groups does not mean you cannot build your morality around them, nonny. I am a snake primary, whether I have people or not.

and I will argue with my conservative mom or brothers and friends over lgbtq rights (personal - I'm ace and probably bi, woyh gender stuff on top), over stray cats (my own sweetie was one) or the importance to wear a mask (it makes sence, just like ecology does - our actions, our plastic filled lifestyle naturally has to have consequences), I will argue even more strongly with anyone over my boundaries and holding principles, like children should not be allowed to pet stranger's dogs they see in the streets just because they're children and they don't know a word no (I hate to be used and people like to dump their stuff without my consent and family and friendship interactions become boring and more like work).

Arguing and standing up for what you believe in does not automatically mean you're a lion primary, or even any kind of big picture thinker, nonny. Lion secondaries often like to argue as well, no matter their primary, and/or people who have learned to do it from their surroundings, or who had to learn for their survival.

Though the things you list are pretty big picture things in my experience. And especially when you defend them against your loved ones like you're describing.

You know, I might be even a bit frightened by V is for Vendetta. Maybe I'm bird and this lion movie really hits the wrong idealist spot for me? What do you think with your experience?

Might be? From what I remember it's pretty intensely lion primary, and intensity can be scary.

I think a good question to ask yourself would be what exactly it is about the movie that makes you feel that way? Because you cannot deny that it sparked something in you, something I think would be worthwile following up on for a bit.

Part 2: A follow up to loyalist vs Idealist wall of text. I can't be a bird, my emotional responses come first and foremost, and the questioning and the need to question if ever comes second.

Alright, sounds good to me.

I think I hate being idealist, especially lion, bcs I can see that even if this is the quickest and most accessible way to see, understand and interact with the world, it's not the most effective, or accurate way. I don't wish I could trust my instincts more, I wish there would be a better and more correct way, that would work as quick as your gut instincts, but would also take into account your surroundings and would give you good and correct info, and also would make you feel good and okay too.

Maybe my lion, if I'm one, is burned and so tired of being seen wrong that it just doesn't want to be one, it just wants to have something better and more effective, more pragmatic. I guess snakes are pragmatic, while badgers have a touch of niceness on top of it all.

I'm still made about that V movie, why would you torture someone to get them to see your ideals? He had to leave them alone and go figure how to do it all by himself. And they're not angry at him after all if it, after all that crap he pulled out? Nonsense.

I don't think your lion primary is burned, nonny, not yet. I think it still knows very well what right and wrong is for you. It might be a bit of a wild guess, but I think it's your lion secondary that is burned, not your lion primary. And that means your lion primary has lost its voice, has lost its ability to make others understand in a manner that works well and also feels right.

And roaring truths into a void like that would make anyone tired. What do you think, nonny?

#i really hope i'm not projecting too much #but i do feel like i have seen something like this in a friend #sortinghatchats #ask answers #lion primary #lion secondary #maybe

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more-cardigan-than-woman · 2 years

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Stage 5 Clinger

Summary- Your wonderful boyfriend has been to busy for you. Gods help him when you finally get your hands on him.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Dick Grayson

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Fluff, SMUT, swearing, piv. 18+ MINORS DNI

It felt like weeks since you had properly seen him. He'd been so busy with work, plus his other job taking up every other second of the night you'd been able to spend with him. Not to mention his endless list of friends, you felt like you were fighting just to get him to look at you.

You weren't expecting him to be home when you got in from work. But there he was casually relaxing on the sofa in nothing but his grey sweatpants, watching something on the tv. Dropping whatever you were holding in your hands, you sprint towards him. Leaping over the coffee table, you landed straddling him. Your face buried in the crook of his neck, you inhaled his fresh soapy scent. Nuzzling in even further as his hand came around the back of your neck holding you close. You watched as his throat bobbed, he must be saying something.

Leaning your head back onto his shoulder, you looked up at him, “I missed you,” your arm winding around his shoulders you crushed your face into his shoulder.

“I missed you too,” he smiled down at you, capturing your lush lips in a soft kiss, “I'm sorry I've been so busy,” his lips peppering your face with quick smooches. You giggled nuzzling back into his neck, you wanted to crawl into his skin, be a part of him always. You didn't want to let go, he would surely disappear again if you did.

You sat like that for long enough that the 'are you still watching’ screen appears on the TV behind you. You glanced around to see why the noise had suddenly stopped, noticing for the first time what he had been watching.

“Have you been watching Naruto without me?” You glared at him, your grin the only indication that you weren't actually mad.

“Yeah. Sorry hon, it's been a rough few days. I forgot we were watching it together,” his voice was sincere as he stroked your hair, “you hungry?”

“Yes, but I don't wanna move,” You squirmed, clinging to him tighter.

“Ok, what about this?” He stood your limbs still clinging to him like he was your only lifeline in this shithole city, which he was. His hands slid under your ass hoisting you up a bit further so you were a bit more comfortable clinging to his bare chest.

“This is good,” you giggled, your body jostling about as he moved towards the kitchen.

Dick had no trouble preparing you both dinner with a deadly koala strapped to his chest. Though it proved difficult when he was trying to slice the bananas for the fruit salad, he knew how much you needed this. How much he needed it, feeling your warmth and love radiate in the ridiculous way you clung to him.

“Honey, I gotta put you down. I need to-” you shook your head, you still weren’t ready to. Your body craved his, needed to feel him under your fingertips. The tangible proof that he was here, safe and yours. “-just for a second ok?”

You huffed, releasing yourself from his front, only to move behind him and wrap your hands around his waist. Nestling your face in between his shoulder blades. Your lips covered his back in affection.

He carried the two bowls of fruit to the living room, sitting them on the coffee table. Before spinning quickly and pulling you down onto his lap. Burying his face into your neck, his lips tracing a line from your jaw to the crook of your neck. “Eat,” he said, taking a piece of fruit and tracing it around your lips. You took turns feeding each other, the juices of the fruit dripping between the two of you. You had missed this the most, the quiet moments shared in your home, while something plays on the TV in the background.

His long fingers brushed over your lips with every piece he fed you. Your eyes were entranced by the way the grape juice dripped from his mouth. He must be thinking the same, his thumb tracing over your lips when he popped a strawberry into your mouth. His palm pulling your face towards him, he licked the strawberry juice from your chin following it as it trickled down your neck. His teeth sinking into your sweet spot he moaned into your skin.

“Get this off,” he fingered at the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head and discarding it on the floor. Your hands carding up through his hair as he began nibbling his way down your body. His deft fingers working quickly to rid you of your bra, his hands gripping tightly as he leaned you back so his mouth could latch onto your hard nipples.

Something began prodding at you from beneath those grey sweatpants. You ground down onto it, feeling it twitch underneath your dripping core. Leaning back into him you reach down, tugging at the pants, hoping to free his cock.

“Hold on hon,” he whispered, picking you up. Your legs encircling his waist while your hands worked to pull his pants down. If he was anyone else he would've tripped over them, but lucky for the both of you he pretty much just skipped out of them leaving them discarded on the floor.

Taking hold of your panties he dropped you on the bed, the momentum causing them to snap and break against your soft skin. He didn't give you a chance to miss his touch, immediately hovering over you on top of the bed. “You wanna cling to me some more beautiful?” He winked sliding his fingers down between your sticky bodies, moaning at how wet you already were for him.

“Dickie, please,” you pleaded, leaning into his touch, “need you.”

“You certain baby?” He teased, slapping his cock into your clit. Your moans involuntarily as pleasure jolted through you.

“Yeah- love,” you frowned at him, begging at him with your eyes, “please.” He teased you some more, poking the aching red head of his cock into your core. Your body squirming underneath him, his hands delicately tracing the lines on your face, “Dick please,” you rubbed your face into his hand.

Slowly he thrust into you letting out a harsh growl, your velvety walls engulfing and clinging tightly to his rock hard cock. He rolled you over so you were straddling him, “Fuck me, baby,” His strong hands guiding you slowly up and down on his cock. “Just like that,” he encouraged you. Watching your breasts bounce as you rode him, your head thrown back as you chased your bliss.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him up so you could lock your lips with his. Picking you up slightly he shuffled you back towards the head board, resting his back against it. “Much better,” he moaned, “so deep in you now, can see my bulge in your tummy,” his hand traveling up to push on it, “keep riding me baby,” this angle was divine, your clit brushing against the coarse hair below his belly button as his hard cock pummeled into your g spot, you felt your pleasure begin to speed through you.

“Fuck. Dick, I'm so close,” you moaned resting your forehead on his, your hot breaths mingling together as you chased your bliss together.

“Nearly there baby,” he growled, licking his way up your neck and biting down on your earlobe, “need you to come first,” his horse voice grumbled into your ear. His fingers tracing over your breast, pinching down your nipples as his mouth worked your sensitive neck. “What do you need?” His voice was almost breathless.

“Love,” you moaned, pressing yourself harder into his pelvic bone, grinding yourself on him. You took his hand from your ass, bringing it around to the front and rubbing soft circles into your swollen clit. “Yes, Dick, just like that,” Your thrusts began speeding up, “fuckkkkk,” you cried, as he began thrusting back up into you.

“There's a good girl,” he growled, biting down on you again, “cum for me,” his grip tightening on your ass as he felt your walls begin to clench around him, “cum all over me baby,” You felt euphoria wash over you, your body shaking, your pussy tightening and sputtering around Dicks hard cock. You head falling onto his shoulder as you revealed in the post orgasmic bliss.

Dick didn’t stop though, pounding up into you as he chased his own high, “fuck honey, your so tight,” he speared into you. Your sensitive pussy still clenching around him, you felt your pleasure building again.

“Again?” He growled, feeling the way you were clenching around him, “greedy woman,” He keened, his voice nearly lost in your cries of pleasure.

“Fuck baby, I'm so close,” he gripped harder on your ass forcing you up and down along his aching cock. You heard the familiar way his breath picked up, the scrunch on his brow. You knew he was close, you focused on his face watching as it contorted in the most beautiful way. The soft moans leaving his mouth sending you over the edge again. “Fuck,” he growled his warm cum painting the insides of your warm, dripping pussy, milking him for all he had. He fucked it into you, his hand tugging onto your neck to bring you into a deep an passionate kiss. His tongue delving deep into your mouth, licking at your teeth and sucking on your swollen lips.

No words were spoken as you both waited for your breathing to even out and he laid you down on his chest. His cock still nestled inside you as he traced nonsensical patterns on your back.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered as his lips grazed lightly against your temple.

“I missed you more,” you nuzzled into his firm chest. Your hands holding onto his biceps.

“Who would've thought a Superspy would be so clingy?” he asked, brushing the sweaty hairs from your face.

“I'm retired,” you cooed, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah, sure. Retired,” he teased, “you totally didn't get burned for spilling secrets to Batman,”

“That's correct,” you lied, “I retired to spend more time with my handsome boyfriend who hates me,”

“Totally hates you, remind me again why that is?”

“He never spends time with me, thinks I'm too clingy,” you pretended to cry, making exaggerated sobs until your laughter boiled over.

“Sounds like an idiot,” Dick hummed, “maybe he needs to show you again just how much he loves you,” his hand slipping under your chin, capturing your lips in a love affirming kiss. He rolled on top of you, kissing his way back down your body.

“Love-” you moaned, his kissing heating you up again, “-right now?”

“Can't have my girl having doubts about my feelings,”

“You hate me, I knew it,” you teased in your breathless voice.

“Want me to show you how wrong you are?” He raised his brow at you.

“Yes,-” you arched into his lips, “-I need convincing.”

#female reader x dick grayson #dick grayson #nightwing x reader #female!Spy reader x dick grayson #dick grayson fanfic #nightwing x reader insert #nightwing smut #nightwing #dick grayson x reader #stage 5 clinger #minors dni

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crimsonrae · 4 years

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Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Seven

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Wounds of Self Defense

She moved strangely.

Geralt sipped quietly on his ale as he watched Lyrra flit about the tavern. Neither the barkeep nor the bard had been able to convince her to go home. Intent to return to some form of normalcy were the words he had heard tossed about while he slipped into a deserted corner, his intent was only to observe. Besides the few moments she had spent tending his wound and assuring him that she held no ill-will toward him, Geralt didn't know her. He hadn't the time to become acquainted with her personally, he barely had time to form a first impression. Yet, in that short time, she hadn't struck him as rash, but she also hadn't struck him as violent either. Her sword and the death of her attacker reneged those impressions. A woman who could take down two of the three men who attacked her would not be one to wallow either. He supposed her resolve to return to normalcy was admirable, he had yet to determine if it was also foolish.

He hadn't missed the tense set to her shoulders anytime a new customer walked into the tavern or the way she held herself just out of reach as she spoke with others. Despite her resolve, the incident had affected her. All of this he expected, especially after he had listened to the whispered details the local townsfolk were scattering as they drank and observed Lyrra themselves. The prying gossip reminded him of one of the many reasons he was glad to travel as much as he did. Even still, what he hadn't expected was the way she moved. She was smooth, silent.

Not in the way he had seen fine ladies of court raised to walk, though a touch of that was certainly there too. No, there was something about it that tugged at his memory. Lyrra, all but seemed to fade into the background. Her frock and headscarf removed her from close scrutiny from strange new faces – she was just another barmaid. She weaved through the crowd effortlessly. Her tray never wavered and she never stumbled or bumped into another person. It was like watching a dancer to a show that no one else seemed to be aware was occurring. She was a ghost gliding past, to, and through. It bothered him because Geralt knew he had seen movement like this before, he just couldn't place where.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Lyrra appeared at his table, seemingly from nowhere as she cocked an expectant brow at him, "What would you like to eat? Cook has some stew that's fairly good and she also has a few chickens that are roasting in the spit."

Geralt shook his head, "I'm not hungry."

It was true. He hadn't had much of an appetite since waking and he was still trying to throw off the claws of fatigue. Not even his tonics had proven of much use beyond removing the smarting pain in his neck and back.

Lyrra tilted her head almost curiously, before nodding as if she had received an answer to some unspoken question, "You need to eat."

Geralt merely sent her an impassive stare as he uttered, "I had an apple."

"Today?" Lyrra questioned dubiously when he didn't answer she snorted quietly and smiled, "I'll get you the stew."

She was gone before he could voice a word of protest. He just barely caught her slim form disappearing into the kitchen. Sighing quietly under his breath, he turned back to the crowd that had gathered in the Rose and Pine in time to catch the bard's attention on the kitchen as well. This was another oddity he had noticed. Jaskier's sudden hyper-awareness. Aside from a few minutes when the younger man had left to get his lute, his attention had been firmly held by their brunette hostess all night. He tracked her movements as he played and sang, his body almost always angled in her direction and any time she disappeared from sight it was like watching a hound dog's ears suddenly prick up. Jaskier wouldn't relax until she was back in the main room. Geralt wasn't even sure that Jaskier was aware he was doing it.

As if to prove his point, Lyrra returned with a small bowl of stew and Geralt could practically see the tension leak from the bard as he belted out the next line of some raunchy limerick. He wanted to roll his eyes, instead, he watched curiously as Lyrra slid onto the bench across from him, "Going to feed it to me too?"

A dimly amused glint entered her eyes at his barb, "Only if you ask nicely..."

When he continued to stare pointedly, she sighed, "Apologies if my company offends you. I need a break and there are quite a few people in this room who would protest if I took it outside, I wager."

It helped that the only moderately peaceful area in the tavern was in his little corner. No one dared bothered the witcher, except her. She had checked on him a few times already, eyeing his face and wound carefully each time. He could practically feel the disapproval radiating from her.

He smirked, "And this gave you the chance to play nursemaid again."

Lyrra rolled her eyes, "If you want to starve, starve."

He was tempted to let the bowl sit, but some distant part of him, the part that never let things like food go to waste lifted the spoon and took a small bite. She was right it wasn't half bad, even if the thought of swallowing more made him pause, "Do you always watch people eat?"

"No." Lyrra smirked, "Just the ones who end up in my bed."

Geralt quirked a brow at the teasing comment, "And here I thought that was the bard."

A faint blush rose to her cheeks as she sent a thoughtful glance to the man in question, "Jaskier is... sweet." The bard caught her gaze as he started his next song and winked at her. Her blush darkened, "And incorrigible."

Geralt felt his lips twitch in silent agreement as he watched the interplay between the couple. She shook her head as she turned back, "There was a time when I dreaded meeting him, you know?"

"Wouldn't have guessed by the way you ran out of your home." Geralt murmured dryly, "Afraid your betrothed wouldn't be a handsome prince?"

"Oh, I knew he wouldn't be a prince." Lyrra returned drolly as she met his stare head-on, "It's just been my experience that those of an... elevated status are entitled, cruelly so. I was expecting cruelty, but he's not. He's rather kind."

In truth, it was hard to remember that either one of them was of noble birth. They moved about the lower masses as if it had been their place all along. He had only seen Jaskier perform in court once and while his performance had the usual jaunty foolishness there had been a tension that Geralt had attributed to the potential threat of cuckolded husbands. He wouldn't have pegged Lyrra for royalty any more than he had Jaskier.

No more princess.

Renfri's voice echoed through his thoughts as Geralt remained silent. Her story had been born of cruelty, as well. It seemed to be the fate of the Creyden Princesses he was beginning to gather. He took a long draw from his tankard as he studied her, "Where did you go after Blaviken?"

Where Renfri had been forthcoming, her sister was more guarded Geralt found as she flashed him a benign smile and shrugged, "Lived on the streets, gradually made my way south and well, here we are."

"Here we are." He murmured softly. A pensive crease furrowed his brow as he recalled, "You said she knew she was going to die."

Lyrra's smile turned sympathetic. Much of what her mother and Stregobor had spewed about her sister had been pure shit, but the old mage had gotten one thing correct. Renfri was special. She would know things that should have been impossible, "She knew it the moment she saw you. She had dreamt of her death for years. The white wolf with the sad eyes... She was right, your eyes are sad."

Geralt's mouth tightened uncomfortably, "She shouldn't have gone to the market."

"You mean, she shouldn't have sought revenge." Lyrra corrected lowly as she swooped his ale from his grasp and took a swig. It was subtle attempt to get him to eat more, "Loud and brash, that was my sister. Like a raging storm."

"Do you not also want vengeance?" He asked quietly, curiously.

There was a long moment as she contemplated his question. A hardness flashed across her grey eyes that he had only seen when he asked of Aridea before it drifted into something sadder. She smiled ruefully at him, "Sometimes. I think it's normal to want pain for the ones that hurt us. Sometimes, I think those people aren't even worth the effort."

He frowned, noting that she hadn't exactly answered him and unsure of what to make of their conversation. Instead, he chose to alight on a more pressing topic, "And the man that attacked you last night and got away? Is he worth the effort?"

She tensed faintly as if she had forgotten the events of the prior night entirely, "The man who attacked me is a coward. He brought friends to help subdue me and when they were in trouble he ran. He, alone, is hardly worth consideration."

Interesting.

Geralt tilted his head, "You don't think he'll come back."

Lyrra shook her head, "Not alone, he'd bring more men with him if he did."

The witcher couldn't find fault in her logic. His thoughts had run a similar path as the events of her attack became more clear to him. Yet, the man had been foolhardy enough to try once, there was nothing that said he wouldn't try again, "Your sword -"

"Haven't used that thing in years." Lyrra cut him off duly amused, "More liable to hurt myself with it than anyone else."

"You fought off two men. I doubt you're that out of practice." Geralt pointed out as he took back his ale.

"I was very lucky last night." Lyrra sighed at the reminder and looked away almost ashamedly, "I panicked, things could've gone very differently."

He nodded in agreement; glad she could see her own pitfalls. It would make things easier for him, "We'll change that."

Lyrra raised a brow nonplussed, "We will?"

"We will." Geralt promised soundly as he finished off his drink, silently entertained at the bewildered stare he was receiving. He had made the decision to teach her a few defense skills almost as soon as the bard had uttered the news of the third man being free. He hadn't needed Jaskier reminding him that he should repay her kindness, not when he was well aware of all that he had already taken from her.

Lyrra was not nearly as amused as she stared pointedly at his shoulder, "And how do you propose to do that wounded?"

His mouth thinned as he grunted, "I'm fine."

Her lips parted in protest, but another voice beat her to it, "We really should get you a looking glass if you think you look fine."

Both Lyrra and Geralt looked up to see Jaskier approaching with two chalices in hand, neither had heard his performance end. He slid one in front of Lyrra as he straddled the bench, she was sitting on, "What have I missed? - You going to eat that?"

He was already reaching for the bowl before Geralt could answer when Lyrra pulled his hand back, "He needs to eat."

Jaskier blinked guilelessly at her, "He had an apple."

There was a long moment as they stared at each other before Lyrra shook her head in exasperation, "There's something wrong with both of you."

She moved to stand, Geralt assumed to get the bard a bowl of stew as well, when Jaskier quickly latched onto her wrist, "Stay. Stay. I can get my own food."

Lyrra stared down at his hand with a frown. It took Geralt a minute to realize why as he noted the loose wrapping. If it were possible Jaskier's hand looked more swollen than it had earlier. The bandage did little to hide the bruising now. With careful movements, she bade him keep still as she unwrapped his hand for a better look. Luckily, Geralt didn't see any sign of infection on the broken knuckles. The bard had done well in keeping it cleaned.

Even still their hostess sighed wearily, a hint of guilt touching her eyes as she gently brushed over the skin. Jaskier flinched at the small contact, "You need to stop using it so much."

"Yes, well why do you think I stopped playing." Jaskier grumbled as he attempted to wrap his hand back up.

Lyrra merely hummed and took the ribbon cloth from him as she re-tied it. He had been joking when he had called her a nursemaid earlier, but Geralt was finding the description more than appropriate as she fussed. Biting back a sigh himself, he pushed his bowl over to the bard. He wasn't going to eat it anyway. Jaskier flashed a triumphant grin at him as he dug in.

"So, what had you two looking so serious?" Jaskier asked around a mouth full of food. Lyrra pulled a face at his lack of manners making the bard smirk as he waited for an answer.

Geralt shook his head at their antics, he suddenly felt like the only adult sitting at the table. Lyrra sipped at her wine as she replied, "How Geralt thinks he's going to teach me how to fight."

Jaskier stilled midbite with an expression of pure befuddlement, "Wha-"

"Not fight, just defense." Geralt corrected taking Jaskier's wine. He would have preferred ale.

The bard didn't even protest the theft as his eyes darted between his tablemates, "What?"

Geralt rolled his eyes.

"I have a defense. It's called running." Lyrra murmured dryly and Jaskier smirked in agreement, "Even if I were willing to go along with this rather moronic idea, I still don't understand how you're going to do that when you're still recovering."

He merely smiled darkly in answer.

»»————-　　————-««

Lyrra sighed wearily as she watched the morning sunrise from outside her cottage and wondered how she had been talked into this. She had donned an old pair of breeches and a loose shirt as she waited for Geralt. The witcher had been intent on his plan she had found when she had been wrested awake only hours after falling asleep. If he had wanted to give her an incentive to hurt him, he had gotten off to a very good start.

Even Jaskier was still asleep.

She yawned tiredly as a hand fell on her shoulder. She didn't jump, merely sent a baleful stare toward her tormentor. Geralt bit back a smile at the look as he handed her sword to her. Lyrra frowned as she looked it over. The dust had been cleared, the blade oiled, and it appeared more lethally sharp than when she had originally obtained the weapon.

Lyrra was tempted to tell him that she already knew defense techniques. No one spent ten years on the streets without picking up some sort of fighting style. She could fight when she needed to, but there were... there were times when a certain movement or touch would shut off her common sense and she suddenly found herself struggling to even throw a punch. Those were problems that she didn't know how to overcome. As she looked over her sword, she thought of her sister – this was her weapon of choice. One that Lyrra had never been fully comfortable handling.

She raised a brow at the witcher, "I wasn't lying when I said I haven't handled this thing in a while."

"I know." Geralt replied as he moved a few paces in front of her. He stiffened his stance and met her annoyed stare with an expectant one, "Come at me."

Lyrra scoffed, "I thought the point of this was to teach me defense."

"It is. Come at me." He ordered lowly.

"This is a phenomenally stupid idea." She muttered, not any more inclined to move. As irritated as she was by this whole affair, she wasn't about to attack someone whom she knew to be wounded. Geralt hadn't looked any better in the morning light. His pallor was horribly stark against his dark clothing. She dared to think he looked better in the dim light of the tavern.

Geralt titled his head and frowned at her, "You won't hurt me. Now come at me."

Almost petulantly she muttered, "You're already hurt."

"Lyrra."

She blinked at hearing her name. She was sure that it was the first time he had ever said it. He raised a brow at her, he wasn't going to tell her again. She huffed quietly, knowing that he wouldn't give up. Stubbornness shined in his golden eyes and she had long learned when to pick her battles. She crouched down and picked up some dirt to rub in her suddenly sweaty palms. Geralt watched her with approving eyes as she stood again and found her grip on the hilt of the sword.

Firm, not overly tight, she reminded herself.

She drew a calming breath and then advanced.

She kept the sword tip angled out and down. A swing would cost her too much momentum and she had the feeling that Geralt was expecting it. Instead, she thrust for his inner thigh and was soundly knocked back on her ass.

She didn't even have time to squawk in surprise as she blinked dazedly up. By the Gods, he was fast.

"Not a bad start." Geralt rumbled as he crouched next to her with an offered hand, "Still think you're going to hurt me."

Lyrra snorted as she gripped his palm, "I was never under the impression that I could. I'm more concerned that you'll hurt yourself."

He pulled her up with nary a grunt as he eyed her speculatively, "Again."

Lyrra rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She advanced in the same manner, but this time she feinted to the left as she swiped the sword for his right. He dodged gracefully and quickly twisted to grasp her wrist and knock the sword to the ground. Her back connected with his chest and she felt the small flinch up his arm. She was right, he was going to end up hurting himself.

Geralt didn't let her go right away and when she glanced at him over her shoulder, he was glaring at her, "What?"

"You're holding back." He growled.

She found herself imitating Jaskier, "What?"

He hummed lowly and let her go. She watched curiously as he stalked back to the cottage and then she noticed his sword leaning in the threshold. A small tendril of dread began to curl in her stomach.

He picked it up and didn't even take a breath before he was on her. Her eyes widened and Lyrra barely suppressed a gasped as she dodged a slash to her stomach. He swung again, faster this time. Her eyes darted warily to his shoulders as she ducked under his swings. He remained impassive through and she knew he was going easy on her. She was both annoyed and relieved by that notion as her muscle memory began to kick in and she met one of his thrusts. Their swords clanged. A tremor went through her arm at the force and she grunted in discomfort before she twisted away. Her hand skimmed the edge of her boot and she itched to grab the dagger within, more comfortable with the smaller weapon, but she resisted and barely moved out from another attack.

Geralt didn't let up and she began to panic. In a desperate bid to slow him, she kicked up some dirt to his eyes and dodged another swing. He turned in time to see her sword coming for his throat and ducked. He had her disarmed and on her back a second later.

He peered down the length of his sword at her with a frown, "You're right. You panic."

Lyrra gulped for air, it had been a long time since she had to move that fast, "Are we done now?"

Geralt snorted and helped her back to her feet. He studied her curiously for a second before bending back down and slipping his hand inside her boot. She nearly kicked out at him until she realized he was grabbing her dagger, "Why didn't you use it?"

She shrugged uneasily, "Any time I pull a dagger out, it tends to go into someone. Sometimes, me."

Geralt lifted a brow and held the hilt out to her, "Show me."

Lyrra frowned unhappily but took the dagger from him. He placed their swords to the side and gestured for her to attack. She didn't advance the way she had with a sword. She tilted the blade down with the edge out and didn't move so much toward him as she did pass him. She made a horizontal slash for his side and he dodged easily and moved to grab her elbow, but she moved faster. He backed up as she pushed forward. It became a dance and Lyrra was fairly sure he was just humoring her. She should have been knocked down ages ago.

As if he could sense her thoughts, Geralt latched onto her wrist as she swiped up and twisted. She winced but reacted unconsciously by slamming her foot into his ankle and yanking down. He grunted, but his grip remained firm as the dagger fell from her fingers.

Sweat coated her brow as she stared expectantly at him. Geralt nodded approvingly as he let her go, "Better."

"You could have done that sooner." She grumbled rubbing her wrist.

"You could have pulled it out sooner." Geralt countered as he watched her. To her annoyance, he barely looked rumpled. He crossed his arms and lifted a brow, "Show me what happened the other night."

Lyrra froze and turned disbelieving eyes on him. She hadn't wanted to speak of her attack, much less reenact it. Already she felt her veins start to chill as she remembered the weight against her back. The witcher tilted his head and she felt like he was seeing right through her. He took a careful step back as he said almost gently, "I'm not going to hurt you, Lyrra."

Even as he spoke, she felt her heart in her throat. A tightness was starting to choke her voice again. She clenched her jaw in frustration and closed her eyes as she turned her back on him. When she opened them again, she spotted Jaskier leaning warily in the doorjamb of her cottage. She wondered distantly how long he had been watching.

She kept her gaze locked on him as she started in a rough rasp, "I was leaning against the wall in the alley when he called out to me. He was a trader form a few nights prior. He wanted me to service him and I had told him where to find the brothel. He had a friend with him – I started to edge back to the kitchen when he blocked off the end of the alley. I didn't know that he had another friend until I backed into him."

She took a step back and heard the swish of air as Geralt came to meet her. She did a horrible job of hiding her flinch but continued to describe halting what had happened. Geralt shoved her dagger back into her hand as she described how she kept it in her apron. Slowly, painfully they went over everything step by step. Until they reached the point where her third attacker came into play. Geralt raised his hand to press into her shoulders and she froze. Her words faltering as she felt her breath start to come in short gasps.

Cold fingers touching, probing.

"Lyrra."

Her skin crawled.

"Stop."

A deep voice growled in her ear and she snapped back to the present. Geralt stood to her side as he eyed her carefully. Jaskier was halfway to her, concern written across his expression as she grappled for control of herself, but Geralt held up a hand to stop him.

Then so quietly she almost didn't hear him, even though his knowing tone didn't escape her notice, "Is it me being behind you or is it the touch against your back?"

She swallowed tightly as she met his apologetic gaze. A weary sigh escaped her, he knew – not that it was hard to figure out, she whispered back, "Back. He used to hold me down with his hand between my shoulders."

Geralt nodded and let his hand drop, "We'll break. I need to think."

Jaskier moved forward tentatively as he looked worriedly between the two of them. He almost seemed to be silently asking if it were okay to approach and Lyrra smiled faintly at him, "I'm okay."

"That's debatable. You're the same color as his hair." The bard muttered glibly and as he got closer, he lifted a brow, "And you smell like Roach."

"Rude." She smacked his arm as she smiled unwillingly. The act seemed to do more to reassure him than her words had as he smiled back, "How's your hand?"

"Still attached." Jaskier shrugged and held it up for her to see, despite his attempt at levity there was still an air of concern around him. His good hand trailed a path down her arm towards her hand, "You didn't want to do this...Maybe you two should stop. Say the word."

Her smile turned soft as she squeezed his fingers, already she feeling her anxiety easing, "Just a hiccup, don't worry."

He sighed uncertainly but nodded before a more devilish grin began to pull at his lips, "Well, can't say I don't enjoy this little number, you're wearing. Who knew trousers could be so sexy?"

Lyrra choked on a laugh at the unexpected comment as she felt a blush heating her cheeks, "You're ridiculous."

His azure eyes danced merrily at her, "Now that's better. Flushed and sweaty, very tempting."

"Jaskier..." She admonished amusedly, even as she felt her blush deepen.

He chuckled quietly as he continued to tease, drawing soft laughs and light conversation until he was certain whatever dark place she had gone to was locked firmly back in the shadows. She knew what he was doing and was appreciative of his efforts even if she didn't say as much.

Neither noticed the way Geralt was watching them pensively, an idea beginning to take shape.

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#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #jaskier #jaskier x oc #jaskier fanfiction #Geralt #yennefer #fanfic #fanfiction

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healer-777-blog · 4 years

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Thoughts for a world ahead

A few days ago I was invited to a birthday party and during the evening I found myself sitting next to two young people who told me that they had just attended a meeting where everyone had to come up with ideas on how to change the world.

Then they asked me what I was doing, so I told them I was a healer and explained my background. When I got to the basic idea that everything begins with our consciousness and we manifest in our bodies and in our lives what we are directing our energy to with our thoughts, our beliefs, they began to show resistance, more strongly in one of them, who then expressed that the diseases, and the cancer we were talking about at that time, was not the result of what was happening in our life and in our consciousness and that she didn't agree with that at all. I told her that it was okay to disagree, that everyone is free to think what they want and that she could find out and read about that. Her response was that she wasn't at all interested in going deeper and it upset her so much that she stood up and left. The other person told me that it must have been affecting her deeply and then she left too to see how her friend was doing and they didn't come back. It's interesting that they wanted to change the world but by changing others and continuing to see themselves as victims of the past and present acts of different authorities and that they wanted to remain unconscious of their creation through their thoughts and actions.

This story can be compared with what is currently happening in relation to this famous virus. Most people see themselves as victims of a virus that arrives randomly and they continue to walk unconsciously filled with fear.

If you ever approach people with the idea that everything begins in their consciousness, many at best see you as a gentle "funny in the head" person, at worst you are dangerous, asocial, selfish. As Carl Jung also expressed it, "Until you have made the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it destiny".

"Millions of people never analyze themselves, as Yogananda said, they are mechanical products of the factory of their surroundings, preoccupied with breakfast, lunch and dinner, working and sleeping and going here and there for entertainment. They don't know what they are looking for, nor why they never achieve complete happiness and lasting satisfaction. Escaping self-analysis, people continue to be robots, conditioned by their environment. True self-analysis is the greatest art of progress."

The more conscious a being becomes, the more they influence the entire universe through the vibrations they emit and the less they are affected by world events.

We are living in a moment where everything we have created as materialistic human beings manifests itself through this scenario, which is no coincidence. Everyone can ask themselves to what extent they participate in this manifestation, through the massacres of living beings, human or animal, the destruction of nature, the thefts, the lies, all the aggressive thoughts and actions that are projected every day by billions of consciousness. And yes, many recognize that thinking can be creative, but this, in general, does not go any further in the analysis. But we are the creators of the conditions we face. They reflect all immoral behaviors and a declining ethical standards in all parts of life.

The world evolves in cycles that go up and down and are repeated in this world of duality. There have been civilizations that have been very advanced spiritually and technologically and then civilization began to decline until what is called the Dark Age. During the descending part of the cycle, people generally become very ignorant about their deep nature, their spiritual side, and then the fall of civilization is not far behind. The same process can happen with nations that are in the ascending phase of the cycle when the spiritual and moral evolution of the human being does not keep pace with the increasing progress of knowledge and technology, then he misuses the power he has acquired to go towards his own destruction. This is the nature of the crisis we face today.

We are in this evolutionary process with constantly expanding knowledge and technology but until now we remain stuck in this level of the solar plexus with control, judgment, anger, hate, separation, identification with personality. We see this manifest in every nation, war, famine, economic crises, diseases, disasters, ethnic and religious conflicts. And a growing sense of fear and powerlessness that is still increasing with this virus.

Voices are being raised to show the way towards the development of our spiritual nature but, while human consciousness has evolved and allowed the emergence of technologies that have brought more leisure time, man has not committed himself to advancing towards his spiritual nature but towards an endless pursuit of material pleasures. When the being is ruled by his emotions, it creates hatred, jealousy, lust, greed and the result is separation between individuals, disorder within societies, conflicts between nations. War has never been a solution, nor revolutions, on the contrary it has a snowball effect. The only way for the world to become a better place is for everyone to move towards his heart, to be more loving, wiser.

Each one can ask themselves how far they have strayed from the truth, from their Spirit, from the God within. It can be difficult for us as ordinary consciousness to grasp the immensity of the truths behind the greatness of the universe. But these truths do exist and as human beings we are all connected, not only with each other but with everything that exists.

Everyone is the dreamer dreaming their dream, and we can and must change the dream. This is the message of all awakened beings. No one is doing anything to you, you are not the victim of anyone, neither of God nor anyone else, you have to take responsibility for yourself and your actions and we each have the power to get through life's difficulties. We must remember that this world is a world of duality. There are two sides, one positive and one negative and everyone has the choice of aligning their consciousness on one side or the other. Be a positive person, even in the middle of the storm, be joyful. Like attracts like.

We can, by aligning our consciousness and our energy, by making energy circles, concentrating our positive thoughts for peace, love, generate an immense power. If people unite for this, it creates such a vibration that it changes the world.

It is time for the human being to realize that change will not come from outside but from within. The more everyone finds inner harmony, the more this threatening crisis will diminish. This place we call home, Mother Earth will never be a perfect place, it is a place of evolution, a school where everyone learns, but it is not our permanent home. Come back to this permanent home that is yours, deep within you, the "I Am", and from this deep and harmonious place you can radiate to others and it will lead them to change. Hold on to this truth and live in inner joy, no matter the outer circumstances that are always changing.

Quotes from Carl Jung, Paramahansa Yogananda, Sri Daya Mata.

#brofman brofmanfoundation fondationbrofman healing guerison chakra esprit conscience mental meditation relaxation energie

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magicoldcottage · 6 years

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The Colour of Magic

From the ancient times the power of colour has been well known. Using colour in your practice might sound strange but this quick guide should provide a little background on this interesting subject.

Can you remember this chart from high school? It shows how light is an energy wave just like Gamma rays and the microwaves we cook with, Just with a different wavelength. This isn’t witchy mumbo jumbo this is simply science.

We are surrounded by light waves all day long, Yet people still find it difficult to see how this energy can affect their lives and health. Our eyes allow us to interpret all the different frequencies that we are being bombarded with but the frequencies affect our whole bodies.

What's your favourite colour;

Pink:

One of the most popular colours there is. It is actually the first colour we ever see while still in the womb. So it is no surprise that we associated it with being loved and nurtured. People attracted to this colour tend to be open, loving, sensitive and pure. On the downside it can indicate that you have trouble standing up for yourself or accepting responsibility. In healing magic Pink is one of the strongest colours. Pink Quartz has long been prized for its healing strength.

Black:

Not technically a colour but an absence of colour, this is the second colour we see while still in the womb. It came each night and takes away the warm pink of day leaving as scared and alone. Some keep this sense of foreboding into adulthood. Black absorbs energy and has an air of mystery making it the colour of choice for witches since the beginning of time. It can reduce external stress as it brings power and control. However wearing only black for too long can lead to depression. Those attracted to black tend to be independent and strong willed.

Red:

The colour of fire, ambition and passion. Seeing this colour increases your heart rate and adds a level of excitement. It was no mistake that Mr Grey picked Red for his room of pain. You will also find it in most theatres to get you excited before you see the show. In magical practice it represents luck. In many cultures around the world brides would marry in red rather than white to bring luck to the union. If Red is your favourite colour you are likely to extroverted, outgoing and confident.

Yellow:

The colour of happiness, wisdom, Creative, knowledge and warmth. This colour naturally brings to mind warm summer days and holidays by the beach. Its popular in doctor’s surgery's to cheer people up. This colours frequency naturally affects the left-hand side of the brain, promoting the logical side of us. If yellow is the colour for you, you love a challenge. Are good fun to be around and enjoy life. In magic Yellow represents stability if you are going through a lot of changes in your life you may find that you are repelled by this colour.

Blue:

Known as a cool colour it is the colour of freedom, trust, responsibility and open spaces. It is used in places where people could feel trapped such as hospitals. Those attracted to this colour tend to either be lovers of the great outdoors. Liking peace and stability this colour can attract those who are seeking a little peace in their life. In magic a practice that is built on meditation tends to work best.

Purple:

The colour of magic, Imagination, spirituality and mystery. From the chart above you will notice that purple sits right on the edge of the spectrum by UV radiation. This is the colour of creativity and attracts, writers, poets and artists. If this is your colour you will tend to be quite sensitive, you like to feel needed by people can take advantage of your good nature. This is one of the most powerful magical colours especially in the violet shade. It has the shortest wavelength and makes a perfect colour for those who don't like the absorbent nature of black.

Brown:

Grounded and homely this colour is traditionally associated with honesty. It is also a background colour perfect for those who like to be neural. Monks cassocks were this colour to show that they were trustworthy and allow them to move around unnoticed. If this is your colour you are likely to be very hardworking and trustworthy with a dry sense of humour. You may find it difficult to express your emotions leading to a short temper. In magic If you find yourself drawn to this colour unexpectedly it can be a warning that you need to work on your grounding.

Green:

Nature and growth are the obvious connection to this colour, but It is also a calming colour. It also balances heart and head. Those attracted to this colour tend to also have a preferred shade. If this is your favourite colour you are likely to be a kind and compassionate person. Working well with people to resolve problems you are a good listener. Obviously, this colour is associated to Green witchcraft and living in harmony with nature.

Orange:

Warmth and spiritual openness. You can't imagine a perfect sunset without shades of orange. It is a colour of strength, both of mind and spirit. Buddhist monks have used this colour for thousands of years as a symbol of their devotion. If this is your colour you will tend to be the life of the party, outgoing and enjoying being the centre of attention. You are also likely to have a quick temper, which you find yourself fighting with.

White:

Colour in perfect balance. Containing all the other colours it represents purity and innocence. Brides have chosen this colour for gowns since the beginning of time. Having white as a favourite colour can indicate that your life is going through changes. You will push yourself to bring high standards into everything you do expect others to also match them, leading to a lot of disappointment as people fall short. In magical practice white is seen as a high colour, symbolising a high level of dedication.

A little bit of each:

We are all different so don’t be surprised if you are attracted to various colours. It just means you have a complicated nature.

Practice Ideas;

Flower Colour Meanings

Colour Associations

Colour Therapy

For more Ideas click here for my witchcrafty index

#water witch #magic #witchcraft #colour #beginner witch #magicoldcottage

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