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calswildflcwer · 2 years

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Turn It Down ! ~ Part Three

Pairing : Madrigals x fem!reader (platonic).

Warnings : Foul language, cussing, feeling bad, hurt, self worry, overwhelming emotions, anxiety, panic attacks, hating her gift, disliking Abuela, parentless child.

Plot : When you were adopted into the Madrigal family, you were beyond lucky. You had a place to call home, you had a place to belong. You received a gift at age five, just like every other Madrigal kid, however, it feels more like a curse. And when the casita falls, your own feelings surprise even you.

Pronouns used : she/her for reader, all other respectable pronouns for Madrigals.

Note : I am not a Spanish native and I don’t know any Spanish, all Spanish nicknames mentioned in this story are translated from google. If anything is wrong PLEASE let me know and I will correct it.

Info : Think this’ll be around 3-4 parts but if you know my track record with series then you’ll know not to quote me on that.

Madrigal taglist : @samiiika, @try-cry-why-try, @camilos-mivida, @soumya-13, @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose.

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Days. That’s how long the family spent looking for you. Days. They searched the whole town, calling out your name. You could still hear their frantic worried thoughts as you hid in the tree away from everybody.

You knew that it wouldn’t be long until you had to come out of hiding, you were beginning to starve and you were beginning to show the first signs of dehydration. You were far enough away from casita that you didn’t hear Abuela’s thoughts anymore, but you also didn’t hear Bruno’s thoughts anymore either, and that was saddening you.

Abuela couldn’t help but get a sense of deja vu back at casita. Hearing the panicked calls of “where is she?!” And “we have to find her.” It all reminded her of that day almost nine years prior, it was the day after Mirabel’s 5th birthday and Bruno had disappeared. Nobody knew where he was, he’d gone. Even you had tried looking around for him, calling out for your papá. Abuela sat in casita, listening to the worried voices of the family as their voices strained and went hoarse whilst they tried to call out for you to return.

‘Where is she?!’ You heard the frantic thoughts of those who walked through the forest below you as your head rolled back slightly.

You hadn’t been sleeping properly, you were dehydrated and you hadn’t eaten in around three days, you felt numb. You felt nauseas. You felt as if you were about to pass out.

You felt your body falling to the side, you felt yourself falling off the branch, you prepared yourself for the feeling of your limp body crashing harshly with ground. However, the harsh impact never came, instead you landed against something slightly softer than the ground, you heard an “oof” followed by a “Papá! It’s her!” You recognised the voice as Mirabel’s but you were far too weak to reopen your eyes.

You felt your whole body go weak as you went limp.

Agustín ran towards his daughter, lifting your limp body off of the younger teen as he helped her to her feet, “Are you okay, mija?” He asked worriedly.

Mirabel dusted herself down before nodding, “Si. I’m okay, papá. I just wasn’t expecting to be used as a human crash mat.” She smiled as she adjusted the green specs on the edge of her nose.

She stared at her father before glancing at the limp body he was cradling in his arms, “Papá, is she okay?” Mirabel asked worriedly.

“I don’t know, mija. I think she’s unconscious. Let’s get her back home and we’ll see what your mamá can do, okay?” He told his daughter. She nodded, as the pair of them turned on their heels and began heading back to casita with you.

As they walked in, a loud gasp sounded at the state of you. Your hair was a mess, your lips were dry and beginning to look chapped, your face was pale, your dress was dirty and dusty. Julieta’s hand came up to cover her mouth before ordering her husband to take you into the dining room and lay you on the table. Agustín did as he was told and laid your limp body down on the empty dining room table as Julieta ran in with some food remedies and water.

Dolores appeared in the room as a soft squeak left her mouth, quietly knocking against the family tree painted on the wall behind the table, she heard somebody gasp on the other side; instantly realising that Bruno had seen you.

Julieta was trying different remedies, breaking off small pieces of the food so that it would just slide down your throat without choking you as Dolores heard the soft muttering of “Come on, mija. Wake up.” over and over again from the other side of the wall.

A cough sounded from your body as you pushed yourself to sit up and your eyes flew open. A sigh of relief left Julieta’s mouth as she handed you the glass of water and plate full of freshly made arepas, you gulped down the water and chewed down a few arepas before glancing around the room frantically.

“Thank you, tia, but I-I have to go. I can’t stay here. I can’t stay here with Abuela, she… I…” You began but stopped. The adults didn’t know about the bad thoughts Abuela had of you, they didn’t know that Abuela was the cause of most of your panic attacks.

“Abuela isn’t here, cariño. She’s out talking to the Guzman’s.” Julieta let you know as she delicately pulled a loose twig from your hair.

A sigh of relief left your lips as you glanced over at Dolores, she was standing rather close the the gap in the wall where your father had just let out the same sigh of relief as you. “Dolores…” You whispered.

She walked towards you and wrapped her arms around your frame, “I’m here, prima.” She whispered as she held you tight.

“I’m going to take (name) to her room, tia. Could you let the others know that she’s safe?” Dolores asked.

Julieta nodded, “We’ll let you know when dinner is ready, cariño.” Julieta let the older girl know, Dolores nodded as she pulled you off of the table and began heading to your room with you.

The months passed quickly and Antonio had soon received his gift, you couldn’t believe it. The boy you had helped to raise could now not only talk for himself but could also speak animal language.

A soft smile graced your features as you approached the breakfast table the morning after his gifting ceremony, you took your seat as Abuela gave her usual morning rituals whilst you ate quietly.

As everyone left to do their chores, you found yourself at the table with Abuela, your fingers rapped against the wood slightly before you stood up, pushing your chair back as you did. “I should… Uhm… I should go.” You mumbled. Abuela’s eyes averted to you, she nodded slightly before watching you hurry away.

She glanced down at the little locket in her hands, “Ay, Pedro, what do I do with that one? She’s not like the others, she can’t control her emotions, she can’t control the panic attacks she has and the whole town sees her as bad luck, as evil… Just like Bru-” She cut herself off with a sigh before turning and heading into casita, taking one final glance over her shoulder as she watched you disappear around the corner.

The day passed by in a blur for you, nothing much to tell other than hearing your fathers name a few more times than you should’ve but besides that, everything else just flew by.

You were currently sitting at the table at dinner, the Guzman’s were here and they were discussing Isabela marrying the Guzman’s son, Mariano. But the atmosphere between two of the family members was what sparked your interest, and their thoughts made you quirk a brow in suspicion; ‘God, I really hope she doesn’t tell!’ Mirabel had thought, her wide eyes boring into Dolores’. ‘I have to tell somebody!’ Dolores’ thoughts were frantic and panicked.

Your eyes wandered between the two as the bowl of avocado was shoved in Mirabel’s face, as quick as a flash, Dolores turned to Camilo and whispered in his ear; making him choke slightly as he shifted into Mirabel, your father and then himself but his facial features were all over the place. You frowned slightly, why did he shift into your father?

“Camilo, fix your face.” Your heard Félix whisper to his son and immediately shook his features back into place and stared at Mirabel with wide eyes. You glanced between the two of them as Isabela placed a jug in front of her sister, you giggled slightly before seeing Camilo turn to Félix and tell his father what Dolores had told him. Whatever it was had caused Félix to spit his water out across the table. You stared at Dolores, a frown painted across your features, she only shook her head as if telling you not to worry about it.

However, it wasn’t long until Pepa was being warned about a huge cloud she was suddenly making before she whispered to Julieta about, presumably, the same thing her husband and children were whispering to each other about.

It wasn’t long until things began going even more downhill as large cracks began forming, Dolores covered her ears as she yelled out, “MIRABEL FOUND BRUNOS VISION, SHES IN IT, SHES GONNA DESTROY THE MAGIC AND NOW WERE ALL DOOMED!” Your eyes widened as one of your fathers green tablets was pushed across the table, landing right in front of your Abuela.

‘Crap.’ Mirabel thought as she stood at the opposite end of the table. The walls around the room continued to crack and Antonio’s animals continued to go crazy as Dolores blocked her ears and squeezed her eyes tight shut. Camilo and Carlos’ gifts began playing up as the both of them began shifting uncontrollably and Luisa cried on the floor as her gift stopped working.

You watched on as the family ran from the dining room, glancing around at everyone as they blamed Mirabel, “I didn’t do anything! It’s Bruno’s vision!” She tried reasoning with them. You stared down at your plate, taking a final bite of avocado before standing up and leaving the dining room.

Least it wasn’t you that messed up this dinner.

You retreated to your bedroom for the night and decided to take a nap after all of the drama that had ensued in the moments prior.

You slept well, in the solitude and confinement of your own bedroom. You weren’t expecting to wake up and see exotic plants growing outside your window, this couldn’t be Isabela’s doing, she was only allowed to grow perfect plants. You rose to your feet, glancing out of the window to see Isabela and Mirabel jumping from the rooftops using vines, a smile graced your features when you realised that Isabela had finally dropped the princess perfecta act; her dress was splattered with multiple colours and no longer fit the perfect standard that had been forced on her for so many years.

However, their moods were about to be ruined. You watched as they dropped through the open roof of the foyer as you ran out of your bedroom to tell them how amazing it looked, however, you stopped at the balcony, noticing Abuela walking in through the doors.

“What is going on?!” Abuela asked, glancing around at the house.

“ABUELA!” Mirabel called excitedly. “It’s okay, everything’s… We’re gonna save the miracle!” The younger teen began.

You watched from the top of the stairs as Mirabel tried to explain what was going on but was cut off time and time again by Abuela. “YOU HAVE TO STOP, MIRABEL!” Abuela yelled, shutting up the teen.

You rolled your eyes, waiting for the barrage of insults to come in to play, “The cracks started with you. Bruno left because of you. Luisa’s losing her powers, Isabela’s out of control, because of you. I don’t know why you weren’t given a gift but that is not an excuse for you to hurt this family.” The elder snapped.

You shook your head at the top of the stairs, slowly descending them as you stared at Mirabel, you gave her a sad look but she simply shook her head before raising it and staring at Alma. Tears almost form in her eyes as the cracks around the walls emerged, “I will never be good enough for you, will I?” Mirabel asked, her voice breaking. “No matter how hard I try.” She spoke sadly, her tears falling down her face.

“No matter how hard any of us tries.” She gestured around to the family. “Luisa will never be strong enough. Isabela won’t be perfect enough, (name) will never be calm enough. Bruno left our family because you only saw the worst in him.” Mirabel spoke. A gulp sounded in your throat as you glanced down at your feet.

“Bruno didn’t care about this family!” Abuela tried to argue.

Your head shot up as you glared at your Abuela, you were about to say something but Mirabel beat you to it, “He loves this family. I love this family, (name) loves this fam- WE ALL LOVE THIS FAMILY. You’re the one that doesn’t care. You’re the one breaking our home.” Mirabel cried out, her voice was strained.

“Don’t you ever-” Abuela began.

“The miracle is dying, because of you!” Mirabel snapped. A rumble is what you heard before seeing a large crack form between the elder and the teenager.

The cracks began to snake along the walls and slowly began reaching up to Alma’s bedroom window where the candle sat.

“Casita, get me up there!” Mirabel called out, sprinting to make her way up to save the miracle.

You glanced around, watching on as everyone’s gifts failed them and the tiles began creating a wave, pushing everyone out of the house. Everyone was thrown out as you called out for Mirabel, “MIRABEL, LEAVE THE CANDLE! GET OUT OF THERE!” You screamed out.

‘Gotta get outta here and save these rats!’ You frowned as you heard your fathers thoughts again. You shook it off as you stared back up, watching in horror as your fathers tower fell and Mirabel went tumbling down the tiles.

You reached your arms out, “No, no, Mirabel.” You called as a large cloud of dust appeared around everyone.

You watched on as Julieta ran in to the rubble to make sure her daughter was okay, you stood there, staring around at the damage. Your eyes averted, seeing the ruins of casita before you and you couldn’t help but….

Smile?

~ Hi all! Hope you’re all well! I finished this at like 1am so I’m sorry if it’s rushed and just plain ole trash 😭 Lemme know what y’all think, angels! 😘 Stay hydrated, make sure you’ve eaten today, remember you’re loved more than you’ll ever know and stay safe, lovelies! Mwah! 💖

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

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Chaotic as The Sea (3/?)

Pairing: Jack Sparrow x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3k Warning: swearing, violence Part Summary: The Black Pearl arrives in Bimini and as any adventure with Jack Sparrow, there’s chaos

Masterlist

Two days later...

Will

We arrive at Bimini as the sun begins to set. Y/N and Barbosa argue that we should wait until sunrise to explore the island. I argue that we can't waste another minute without trying to rescue Elizabeth. Jack, to my surprise, agrees that we shouldn't wait. Though, I think his reasoning is because he wants to see the fountain.

Barbosa, Jack, Gibbs, Ragetti, Pintel, Y/N, and I all hop off the boat to explore the island. Gibbs, Will, and Pintel all carry long torches for us as the only sources of light.

"Okay, so I know the general direction, but unless you feel like risking the chance of getting lost, which I don't, I suggest we use the compass," Y/N announces.

"I thought you were certain of the fountain's location," Barbosa remarks a tad agitated.

"Every tree and speck of white sand look exactly the same. Next trip, I'll drop your ass in a jungle in the middle of the night and tell you to find your way out!" She snaps.

"Okay, well then let's use the compass." Ragetti takes the compass of Jack's belt and hands it to Y/N.

The device begins to spin in her hand and Ragetti peeks over her shoulder. Jack quietly moves to stand beside her, wishing to catch a glimpse of himself.

Abruptly, Y/N shuts the compass and frantically tries to get rid of it. "Oh uh, no it's okay, Jack can take it." She tosses it to him.

"Me?" He looks at her wide-eyed and panicky. "No, give it to Will! He wants to find the bloody place." He tosses it to me.

"What's wrong with you two?" Barbosa yells in frustration.

"The compass doesn't work for them," I state.

"Seriously!" Y/N huffs.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Barbosa questions.

"When Jack holds it the arrow points to Y/N," I explain pointing between them.

"Who told you that!" Jack questions.

Then, Jack and Y/N both glare at Gibbs. "Gibbs!" They bark in unison.

The older man holds up his hands in surrender.

"Well, why can't Y/N do it?" Pintel questions timidly, circling his hands together.

"Why can't Will just bloody do it and we can move on!" The woman challenges.

Jack nods. "I'm with her on this one."

I sigh. "When Y/N holds it, it points toward whatever she wants so bad in New France."

"But isn't New France North of here?" Ragetti questions.

"Yes!" The rest of us answer in unison.

His face scrunches together in confusion. "But uh-"

Y/N elbows Ragetti in the ribs. "Shut it!" She's quick to change the subject. "Let's go! Will! I'll lead the way, you just act as a checker."

_______________________________________________

30 minutes later...

Y/N

As the seven of us continue to march through the thick jungle, Jack appears beside me. "After we're finished in New France. I say you and I pay a visit to Tortuga for old time's sake."

I laugh. "Ha! Wish to relive our break-up?"

"Think of it as a celebration of our reunion," he tries to sugarcoat it.

I roll my eyes, laughing as I move ahead to join Will up front. "In your dreams!"

Ragetti

I pick up my pace to catch up with Pintel. "I know something you don't know!"

"What?" He eagerly asks.

"When Y/N was holding the compass, the arrow was pointing toward her," I whisper.

His face scrunches together. "Y/N desires herself?"

"No!" I huff. "Jack was standing next to her!"

He gasps, putting it all together. "So you mean-"

"Yes!"

He grins. "That's kinda sweet actually."

Y/N

"Now be careful!" I announce to the men, watching my step as we get closer to the mountainside. "The natives made pit traps and other boobytraps-"

Before I can finish my warning. Jack screams from the back of the group. When I whip my head around, Jack is nowhere to be seen. "For idiots like Jack," I sigh.

"Does anyone see him?" Will questions, moving his torch around.

"It's kind of dark!" Gibbs remarks.

"Thank Jack and Will for that! They refused to wait until morning," I grumble, marching back to where I last saw Jack.

"Jack!" We all call in a scatter as we search.

"Captain!" Gibbs shouts.

We all watch our steps, checking the heavily covered jungle floor and sky for any sign of him. He could be hanging from a tree in a net or in a hole somewhere. If it's deep enough and well covered, it'll be hard to hear him.

"This is ridiculous!" Gibbs huffs.

"I say we leave him and tell the crew some natives got him," Barbosa suggests.

"I have an idea," I announce as one pops into my head. "Give me the compass," I ask Will, holding out my head.

"But how will that help?" He questions with a raised brow.

I hold the compass in my palm and lift the lid. I watch as the arrow spins. Soon, each of the men are gathered around me in a circle, eager to catch a glimpse. Then, the arrow stops, pointing Southeast. The men break apart, allowing me to follow it.

"Watch your step," I advise.

I keep a close eye on the arrow, making sure it doesn't change direction. I'm about to take another step when Will suddenly grabs my arm. I glance ahead and realize there's a massive pit in front of me. Its edges were covered in leaves and brush.

"Oh, thanks," I exhale deeply.

"Captain! You down there?" Gibbs shouts down below, holding a torch above the massive pit.

I kneel down beside the pit and await an answer.

There's a faint, "Am I dead?"

I giggle and shout back. "No, you're not dead you idiot!"

"Pintel! Ragetti! Go fetch a rope from the ship!" Barbosa commands, sending the two off.

I laugh, relieved that Jack is okay. Based on the distant swooshing sound, the pit is filled with water thankfully, not spikes. This could've been a recovery mission. I sit back on my knees and glance up to find the remaining three men staring at me with knowing grins.

"What!" I sass, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Nothing," they all say, breaking apart to roam in different directions.

I roll my eyes, such nosy people, pirates.

____________________________________________

The men work together, yanking Jack up from the bottom of the pit. I remained to kneel beside the edge, holding up a torch so we can see Jack when he pops up.

"Ho!" Barbosa calls out as they tug the robe. "Ho!"

Soon, Jack appears from within the darkness and I grip his belt, guiding him to safety. The men release the rope and relax, releasing panting breaths.

"You okay? Captain!" Gibbs questions.

"Yeah," Jack flips onto his back, catching his breath, "yeah, I should be fine. How did you-" His eyes flicker about until his eyes land on the compass on the ground beside me.

"Ah, now that's interesting." A cheeky smirk begins to form on his face as he lifts his gaze to meet mine.

I shove him in the shoulder, frustrated. "I told you to watch where you were going!" He has no idea how worried I was.

"I was a tad distracted by you, Love," he chuckles.

My eyes fall shut as I release a sigh of relief. Thank God, he's okay.

Jack places his hand on my thigh, capturing me by surprise. His dark eyes meet might and I place my hand over his. He flips his over and they interlock in my lap. His eyes soften at the sight.

Suddenly, there's a series of yells from across the jungle. Each of us tosses our heads to the side and sees small glimmers of light in the distance. Jack flies up beside me from his laid position.

"Are they with us?" He questions.

There's the ring of a gunshot and the bullet hits the tree right by Barbosa's head.

"Don't think so!" Will declares, his voice shaky.

"Who are they?" I shout.

"Wait! They're Black Beard's men! I remember one of them. He's the one who took Elizabeth!" Will determines.

“How did they find the fountain?” Barbosa yells.

“He knew you’d come and find me!” I comprehend and look over at Jack. “He’s been following us here!”

Pintel and Ragetti immediately make a run for it.

“I’m with them, time to go!” Will decides and starts to run back to the ship.

Jack takes my hand and instantly brings me to my feet. We begin to run too, hand in hand.

“Cowards!” Barbosa shouts and stands his ground. He whips out his gun and begins to shoot at the mob. “Come and get it you slimy gits! Ha!” He laughs.

Running utterly blind in the dark jungle, there’s hardly any light other than that that can make it through the tree tops from the moon. We make it through the jungle and see the beach a few yards ahead. Will and the two morons make a bee-line for the ship, when they’re suddenly stopped by a cluster of Blackbeard’s men running from down the beach. Jack pulls me into his side and draws his sword.

Suddenly, I feel a hand wrap around my wrist and I’m yanked away from Jack. He immediately whips around and his eyes grow wide. My back slams into someone’s chest and I struggle to free myself. More of Blackbeard’s men appear from within the jungle and begin to fight Jack. Two men begin to drag me off and I fling around, trying to break free.

"Jack!" I scream. “Let me go you bastards!”

Jack searches for me and when he finally spots me, he screams. "No!" He looks at me pleading and full of guilt.

As more of Blackbeard’s men appear, we both quickly realize there’s nothing either of us can do. These morons are taking me to their ship, more than likely to see their captain and to be held prisoner. This is yet another reunion I did not request.

______________________________________

After sailing out to the Queen Anne's Revenge a couple hundred yards from the island, the nasty men take me aboard and immediately drag me off to the captain’s quarters. They swing open the double doors below top deck and we enter a familiar red velvet decorated office.

A tall man stands behind the desk with his back to us. "And who do we have here?" A familiar voice purrs. When he spins around, his grin falls to confusion. "Y/N?"

"I told you! Idiots!" I huff and yank my arms free from his buffoons."Hi, Eddie," I offer a fake smile.

"Eddie?" The pair beside me repeat in unison.

The captain pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "How many times must I tell you?"

"You could hand me the Templar Treasure yourself, I won't call you Blackbeard. It's stupid," I laugh, approaching him.

"Leave us," he commands his minions. Once we’re allow, he moves to stand the other side of his desk. He props himself against it with a grin. "So, you and Jack are back together again..."

"No way in hell," I snicker, taking a look about his office. He’s changed it in the last five years. "He promised me he knew where the Templar Treasure was, I'm simply completing my half of the deal."

"Which is?" He inquires.

I stop my admiring of his decor to meet his gaze. "Showing him to the fountain."

"You would honestly betray me like that?" He acts offended my placing his hand against his chest.

"If it guaranteed me the Holy Grail? Yes,” I stand firm.

"Your loyalties still lie with that treasure? You truly are a pirate at heart,” he smirks. He rises from his position on the desk to pour us chalices of wine. As he approaches me, his eyes travel up and down my entirety. "Dare I say, you look amazing."

I accept the wine, but roll my eyes at his compliment. "Oh save it.”

He pouts dramatically. "What happened to the spirited eighteen-year-old I first met?” He reaches up and tucks strands of my hair behind my ear. “You're bitter now."

I lift my arm and knock his hand away from me. "It's called maturing."

"Have you matured enough to conclude that I'm the better man than Jack?" He smirks, stepping closer to me.

I move away from him and toward the book case against the far wall behind his desk. "I think I prefer neither of you,” I answer over my shoulder.

"One point, if I recall correctly, there was a point where you couldn't choose between us." He narrows his eyes, taking a sip of his wine as he creeps closer to me again. "Do you remember those few months in Bermuda?"

I shift of my heels, allowing my eyes to fall to the Persian rug beneath them. "It was always going to be him, Eddie..."

Abruptly, he rushes toward me and pins me against the bookcase. My wine falls out of my hand and stains the rug. "I could've had you if I wanted!" He growls.

I look him dead in the eyes with a clenched jaw. "You dare threaten me!”

He laughs mockingly. "What? Going to curse me?"

I grin. "That used to terrify you if I recall correctly."

"You're all bark and no bite. I happen to know for a fact, you don't practice dark magic!" He challenges.

"Just because I don't practice it, doesn't mean I don't know how to use it.”

There’s a commotion outside and soon the double doors swing open to reveal Jack marching in, gun drawn. While Eddie is distracted I pick up a vase off one of the shelves near me and I knock him over the head with it. The vase shatters into a hundred pieces over his head and the man falls to the ground with a thud at my feet. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I meet Jack’s gaze. His eyes flicker away from the man knocked out on the floor and up to me.

"I hate that I'm relieved to see you," I pant.

He runs over to me and takes my hand. "Consequence of loving me." He guides me over to one of the windows and swings it open. “Can you jump?”

I look at him as though he as three heads. “Can you jump? What kind of dumb question is that?” I mock. Then, I ask him a similar dumb question. “I don’t know Jack, can you swim?” I roll my eyes and climb up onto the windowpane and jump out.

“Jesus, Mary, and the bloody camel sorry for asking!” I hear him grumble under his breath as climbs out the window and jumps in after me.

___________________________________

Jack

We’re not sure how we’ll get Elizabeth back, but we will. Though, I suspect that he was never after the fountain. No, what he truly wanted was Y/N and the fountain was just a cover-up. I brought her right to him. For now, we just need to create some distance between us so we can form a plan.

Y/N climbs the ladder above me and Gibbs helps her on board. She offers him a thank you and brushes herself down. The crew is well into their tasks, getting us far from this island as soon as possible.

“Glad to see you’re safe, Miss,” Gibbs greets.

“Did everyone make it back okay?” She questions as I climb aboard.

“Yes, even I,” Barbosa announces with a proud grin. “Not with the help of you lot,” he adds.

“Don’t exactly have a death wish,” she giggles.

“There’s a change of clothes for you in the Captain’s office,” Gibbs informs her.

She offers him thanks and begins toward my quarters. Barbosa and Gibbs break apart to return to their positions.

“You! Hold it!” I call out.

The two men glance in my direction, wondering who I’m speaking to. They follow my gaze to Y/N.

She whips her head around, her gorgeous, long, wavy, Y/H/C flowing in the breeze. She crosses her arms over chest. “Excuse me?” She scoffs with a grin forming on her lips.

I narrow my gaze at her. “I have one question.”

Barbosa and Gibbs watch the interaction, their heads tilting back and forth between us with each exchange. The crew too watches as they attempt to multitask with their duties. Her eyes remain on the deck panels and anywhere else but me.

“Did you know the compass would lead you to me?” I ask.

There’s a pause and I can tell she’s reluctant to answer despite the amused expression she wears. Then, her eyes rise to meet mine with a sigh. “Yes... maybe...”

I smirk, approaching her slowly. “Oh see now that’s interesting, don’t you think?”

“What? Just going to gloat about the ship now?” She rolls her eyes, directing her focus in the distance away from me.

I bring my hands up to her cup her face and make her meet my gaze. To my surprise and pleasure, she doesn’t move from her spot or shove me away. Instead, brings her fingers to hook through the loops of belt.

“You stay with me from now on. No more hiding out.” I smirk. “That’s an order,” I tease quietly between us.

“Whatever you say...” Her eyes fall to my lips and then flicker back to my eyes. She grins. “Captain.”

One my hands slips behind her head to her neck and I bring my lips to meet hers in a needy kiss. Her arms fling over my shoulders, deepening the kiss.

“Now they’re going to be insufferable!” I hear Barbosa grumble to Gibbs as he stomps off.

Five years of searching for her, waiting for, wondering if I’ll ever see her again. What happened between us all those years ago is one of my greatest regrets if not the biggest. Our relationship has never been easy, in fact it’s exceedingly complicated and one giant headache. We haven’t stopped arguing since the moment we met and rarely agree on anything. Yet, we love as we do argue with each other, passionately and with everything we have. Now that I have Y/N back and I know she loves me in return, I’m never letting her go. God help me if I let Blackbeard anywhere near her.

_______________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @subwonwooagenda @starfire56 @doveygirlkay-blog @dansyberry @dansyberry @meany-marcelini @naturallyathief @oliviamae4193 @xxshoutxx @house-chase465636 @the-clint-barton @lxr1582 @m00ny-stars @lonliest-love @meandmymessyminds @jick-n0nas @biracy @kriimu10 @soxpoprocks @peachyplxm @captainluciabianchin @cannibalistic-cicada @a-e-i-owe-you @velvetsnaiil @mindifislytherin666 @bunkyung @livinglifewithoutbeingseen @ghosts-face @mx-pibbles @bigplaidwinnerparty @greentea121598 @that-eco-bitch

#pirates of the caribbean #pirates of the carribean imagine #jack sparrow imagine #jack sparrow #jack sparrow fanfic #jack sparrow x reader #PotC #will turner #elizabeth swann

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tremendum · 3 years

Text

masterlist

( * indicates smut. 18+ only.)

[updated 2.13.24]

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star wars

din djarin

be like me [series. slow-burn. eventual smut, 18+. MDNI.]

series masterlist*

↬ ❝ your hands shove hard into his breastplate, fingers immediately aching at the impenetrable hardness of the armor. “just to be clear, I did not do this for you.” you spit coldly, glaring upwards against the glare of the sun. a menacing finger points down the bridge of your nose, and at his words, your whole body trembles. "do not put your hands on me." his voice is threatening, deep, low. "ever." ❞

some things never change* [smut, 18+. mdni.]

↬ ❝some things never change. and nobody forgets a man like Mando.” ❞

where to start* [smut, 18+. mdni.]

↬ ❝ Din lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start ❞

after midnight* [smut, 18+. mdni. royalty!au]

↬ ❝you were... a princess. you were untouchable, and he knows better than to fall for one of his jobs. so he'd made a tower of armor to protect him from any attraction; but with every passing day he spent in your company, you happened to slip through those cracks like you were made for it.❞

twin suns* [series. slow-burn. eventual smut. 18+ MDNI.]

HIATUS;

series masterlist

↬ ❝ when he finally finds you, you’re thrown down to the sand, blaster pointing to your chest. ’happy hunting?’ the Mandalorian’s voice, seeded with disdain; in the moment his words give you, you search your surroundings for help. something within you deflates - nothing but dirt, sand, heat. a mirage of floating trees in the distance, but no living thing near to free you from your predator. he says your name in that deep voice of his and it rumbles, nesting deep in your chest along with the fear and desire to run. run, run, run.❞

focus* [contains nsfw. mdni.]

↬ ❝’find the bounty.’ Mando states simply as you search through the sea of natives, ‘-and don't cheat.’ he adds, tilting his helmet pointedly at you.❞

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the last of us

joel miller

fever* [nsfw. sex-pollen.]

↬ ❝ but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine. his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with.❞

landmines* [contains nsfw. drug abuse cw.]

↬ ❝ he saw how your hands shook when you exchanged rations for those damn pills. hell, at one time he’d felt his own hands shake in the same way. so, Joel doesn’t get to be all high and mighty with you, after all.❞

Mr. Miller Series Masterlist

HIATUS;

Mr. Miller* [nsfw.]

↬ ❝ six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that’s no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone. Tommy’s goddamn brother, no less.❞

Mr. Miller’s House* [part ii. nsfw]

↬ ❝ Joel Miller was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.❞

Mr. Miller’s Girlfriend* [part iii. nsfw]

↬ ❝ It’s delicious, this game you and Joel play. ❞

Mr Miller’s Patrol* [part iv. nsfw]

↬ ❝ you wonder, does he want a taste of the blissful relaxation that follows one inhale - or is the craving in his eyes for something else? ❞

Sympathy for the Devil* [part v. nsfw]

↬ ❝your stomach drops at Joel’s words - where's the anger, the stubbornness? where's the cocky Joel, the one who would probably stiffly mutter he's sorry he offended you before slamming three fingers of the Bison's liquor and walking out with a glare?❞

Mr Miller’s Show* [part vi. nsfw]

↬ ❝'like how sweet you've been t'me, sugar," he mutters gently, head tilting, "why y'gonna go and fuck all that up now?'❞

i’ve got headaches and bad luck but they couldn’t touch you*

↬ ❝ Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job. ❞

personal lies*

↬ ❝ when you were young, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - but he was just your dad's friend, someone who would make you blush strictly because he was teasing you. now, though - he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons.❞

pretty little thing*

↬ ❝ a hand on the bare of your chest has your voice dying in your throat. ‘baby, c'mon, your daddy's just in the other room.’ he purrs, ‘you gotta stay quiet, now.’❞

apocalypse

↬ ❝something about you settles a very deep melancholy within him that Joel cannot understand.❞

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narcos

javier peña

bad idea* [nsfw, mdni.]

↬ ❝bottom line, now you're stuck at this sticky bar, nursing your whiskey ginger because there's only one other person here you know; and he is a bad idea. and he's walking over to you.❞

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old characters masterlist

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader smut #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #mando smut #mando x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou smut #the mandalorian fluff #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut

767 notes · View notes

headoverhiddles · 3 years

Text

The Romance Of A Yellow Rose - Dr. King Schultz x Reader [Smut]

Words: 5.6k

Synopsis: You and King get married, and celebrate your first night together by consummating the marriage.

Commissioned by a friend! Enjoy.

Your eyes open on the rugged planes of the Southern state the three of you had found yourselves in. As you roll over to stretch the sleep out of your body, you find a single yellow rose, native to this area. A smile grows on your face. It’s King’s way of saying good morning to you, as it had been for many months.

For years now, you had been tagging along with Schultz and Django. Having attached yourself to their travels three hot summers ago, the two men had become quite fond of your travelling company; King in particular. Over time, your relationship had evolved from a companionship, through friendship, to having romantic feelings for one another. You were the first to admit to them; King hadn’t wanted to say anything, as he still held a fruitless hope that one day he could return you to the pleasantries of the normal life you once knew, before it had been uprooted. But as the months passed, you getting more and more comfortable and (dare he say) suited to the lifestyle of a bounty hunter, it was becoming apparent that you were going nowhere. Not without him, anyway.

Hildy had decided to stay with some friends in the North while the three of you travelled the country on business. Texas Jack, Turkey Creek and Jack’s wife Camarilla were more than happy to keep her with them. It had put Django at ease at least, knowing they had one less person they had to worry about with them catching a bullet. Hildy was even teaching Camarilla different things she had learned over the years at their home, and the four were getting on fine from what Django took from her letters to him. King wished you had enough sense to stay with them, but where the older bounty hunter went, you went. You had made that quite clear.

Today, a warm day in mid October, you, King and Django were headed to visit a plantation in Conroe, Texas. There an outlaw by the name of Amos “Sly Eye” Little had been posing as an overseer for 3 months, flying under the radar on the small eastern Texan plantation. He wasn’t a particularly dangerous outlaw, only wanted for his habit of skipping out on poker games before paying up. Three months ago, he ended up double crossing the wrong man which led to legal involvement, and now to deter trouble in peaceful towns he was wanted dead or alive by the state. King and Django had discovered upon visiting this plantation that the family who owned it had been dodging the law for a while as well.

After the slaves had been freed by King and Django, this outlaw family just so happened to get in the way of a few bullets. The last man left alive on the property is now Amos.

“Back here!” you call. King dashes toward you, swiping you out of the way as a bullet whizzes by your ear. You sit in shock for a moment, King’s arm still around you. For a man who isn’t very dangerous, this Amos sure is trigger happy.

“Django!” King shouts, but his partner is already far ahead in pursuit. “Never listens,” the doctor mutters, loading his shotgun and aiming. You watch as Django dodges a couple more of the outlaw’s bullets before grabbing Amos by his collar, lifting him up a few feet. The man tries to scramble for his gun, but Django of course is faster. Just as he’s about to fire at close range, King clucks his tongue, looking through his target. “Bullseye.” Your eyes shut briefly as the snap of the bullet leaving the gun jolts you closer to the older man. He pulls you out of sight once more as the bullet hits Amos through the side of his head, out the other side in a bloody deluge. Django jerks his head up your direction, dropping the corpse into the carnage at his feet.

“I was handling it!” he mutters.

King comes out from behind the tree, helping you up with one hand. You brush off your pants as you both approach the other man. “You were being hasty again,” King says.

“I was handling it,” Django insists with a look. You two nudge arms amiably, and King gives you a disapproving look.

“You are encouraging him.” He turns to Django. “And you’re encouraging her.”

“What’s wrong with a little congratulations?” you giggle. “You got your dead cowboy.”

“I would trade a thousand dead cowboys to keep both of you alive. You’re the best things that have ever happened to me, do you know that?” King gives you a meaningful look, before brushing off Django’s jacket and squeezing your hand. “Forget this place. We’d better get the horses and get out of here.”

Taking the initiative, you go off in search of Tony, Fritz and Ida, your mare. Django approaches King, taking off his bloodstained gloves. “You talked to her yet?”

“She doesn’t know, no.” King looks down, nervously stroking one side of his moustache. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“You wait any longer, she’s gonna be burying her husband to be.” King doesn’t bother taking offense—he knows Django is right. He’s much older than you—not one foot in the grave as Django likes to tease, but older. That had been another source of insecurity for him during the burgeoning relationship, but you had made it clear that you didn’t mind; in fact, you liked the difference in age. King’s fellow bounty hunter interrupts his thoughts. “Y’all should get married here. Nice place, no one left in it now.” Schultz looks around the grounds. It is pretty, and it would be nice to marry you in such agreeable weather... but King shakes his head.

“No Django. This place was built on treachery and suffering. It would be not only tasteless, but bad luck to get married here.”

When you three make it to the next town in the state over of Arkansas, something is waiting for King at the inn.

“You Doctor Schultz?” the innkeeper asks, spitting tobacco into a spittoon. King nods, taking out his billfold. The innkeeper sizes him up. “Yep, man who sent this said fella looking like you’d be coming through here. This’s for you.” He takes a letter out from behind the desk in one of the cubbies, and slides it across. King expects it would be from Texas Jack, but it instead it’s from a different friend in the North; a sheriff acquaintance he had written to before about his situation with you. Thanking the man, you all head upstairs, and when King gets to a desk, he slips on his reading glasses.

Thought you’d make your way through this here town, Schultz-

Sounds like a hell of a woman, the one you’ve told me about. You softie. Knew you wanted to settle down, and it’s about damn time, too. What the hell are you doing with her down in the South then? She oughtta be up here. Maybe I’m biased, but there’s a lot more law n order up here. Better people too. I am biased, spose.

You asked me what I thought about asking for her hand. Why wait to marry her? Hell, bring her up, we’ll have a ceremony here! I’m not only a sheriff, but an ordained minister too. Bet you didn’t know that. Wouldn’t kill you to ask. Anyway, no reason why I can’t make things look good, clean up the place nice and host your happy union. Got some more birthday cake here too, for someone to eat. Pretty good.

Come on up when you finally convince yourself she won’t say no.

- G. A.

“You got a letter back from Sheriff Snowy Snow?” Django smirks. King stares at the letter in his hands for a long while, before looking up at him with a smile.

He could do it. He could finally ask for your hand.

“Django, my boy. We’re going to Nebraska.” You overhear, and turn back with the bags.

“Up North? What for?”

“To see an old friend of mine, fraulein,” King says, taking the bags from you to carry inside. “Sheriff Gus Arnett.” You smile. It’ll be nice to get out of all this heat and around some likeminded people—people who King can relax and be himself around.

You had all stopped off to pick up Hildy in Boston after travelling by train through the Southern states and switching back to horsepower as you made your way up through the wintery landscape of barren northern land. It was worth it, of course; King and Django had insisted Hildy come too, and you had been happy for female company.

“Has my troublemaker been behaving himself?” is the first thing Hildy asks you, kissing your cheek in greeting.

“About as much as mine has,” you laugh.

“Coming from the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. It is you who has been the naughty one,” King chastises you right back.

“Maybe one day, you can teach me a lesson for it.” King blushes as Hildy lets out a loud laugh at the connotations of such a taunt. He knows you’re still virginal, waiting for marriage as you’ve told him before. Once united by matrimony, that’s another wall that could be knocked down between you, if you decided you still wished to give yourself to him.

It was no secret you wanted King, and he had made it plain he would wait for you—he’s a gentleman in every sense of the word. Still, men have needs, and some late nights it had been hard. Many evenings by the fire had ended with you in his lap, grinding down as you kissed him with feverish intensity. It had always ended the same way however, with you heading off to sleep alone and leaving him with nothing but his mind to picture what the next hour may have felt like. This time, King feared he wouldn’t last once he finally got to feel you as he’d wanted to for so long. Either way, he had a silver tongue, and experience in the art of pleasuring a woman. He wouldn’t leave you wanting; whatever you needed he would give you.

Arriving at the snowy lodge some days later, Sheriff Gus Arnett comes out the front door. A couple of minks and rabbits are hanging from the roof over the porch, and two pairs of boots caked with snow are drying outside by a wooden rocking chair that had been collecting frost no doubt since September.

“King Schultz and Django Freeman, in the flesh! Come on in with your little ladies!” he says, opening his arms. You approach first, and he shakes your hand with the assurance of a man who’s not used to gentle handshakes. “I don’t believe we’ve met, ma’am,” he says softly, “But any friend of King’s is a friend of mine. Especially a friend like you.” He winks at you and smirks over at King, who ushers you in out of the cold quickly. Gus tips his hat at Django and Hildy, closing the door after they come in.

“Like I said,” he sighs, “We got some cake. Y’all want some?”

“Perhaps we wait until after dinner?” Schultz proposes.

“I wouldn’t mind some,” Django speaks up, giving King a look. King just chuckles.

“Go ahead, my boy. I was a dentist, remember. Old habits remain, I suppose. Would you like some, (y/n)?”

“I’ll have the piece you didn’t want,” you tease. You lean closer to him to brush your lips against his ear. “When it comes to you, I want everything.” The former dentist swallows. This proposal couldn’t come at a better time, as things between you two are heating up.

That night after dinner of rabbit stew and some leftover cake for dessert for everyone but your beloved, everyone had retired to bed a few hours after the sun had gone down. In your own room, you set your satchel on the bed of clothing you had been travelling with in the South, and just as you’re about to unpack, a knock at the door distracts you from your task. King slowly pushes the door open—he’s dressed in his white shirt and grey vest, his hair freshly combed back. It seems counterproductive to groom that well before bed, but to be fair, you had never personally witnessed King’s nocturnal habits in a place that allows such a luxury. He offers his arm, and when you take it in curiosity, he leads you out the back porch of the lodge home. The wind isn’t too cold tonight, but he still wraps his arm around you. The mountains are beautiful out here, and the snow has stopped for the night to allow for a crystal clear view of the surrounding landscape, snow white on the bottom and starry black on top.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been able to sit together like this,” King says. “Just sit and enjoy one another’s company alone. It’s very rare we get time just the two of us without our faithful hero.” You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Mm. We’re usually around a campfire, with Django snoring behind us.”

“At least we don’t have any of that to score our evening. I think Django’s gone to bed with Hildy in there.”

“You should be in bed too,” you fret. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I never have been very good at that. I’m a light sleeper, fraulein. Especially when I have lots on the mind.”

“You know what helps me when I can’t sleep?” You smile. “Something I learned from you.” King turns to look at you, a soft chilly breeze blowing the silver blonde hair from his eyes.

“What’s that?”

“A story.”

King ducks his head, and pulls you closer to him. “I think that would do the trick. Go on then, my love. Will you regale me?”

“I know a story of a deep running love, where a woman slowly developed feelings for one who she learned to depend on.”

“A common story, no?” King teases.

“Shhh. She loved very freely, but this was different. She not only loved this man, but worried about him when he wasn’t around, yearned for him, desired him in ways that drove her crazy sometimes.” King’s breath audibly quickens.

“And what did our heroine do about this tumultuous situation?”

“Oh, she took care of things. But not like she knew he could.” His breath hitches. You bite your lip as you go on. “The two had been together so long... learning one another’s quirks, laughing at little things and sharing moments others wouldn’t understand. They knew what scared them, what made them smile. At the end of the day, she told the man a million times how she adored him. But she was afraid he still didn’t know how much.”

King rubs down your finger, eyes trained on it before looking up at you. “I think I do.” You forget whatever you were going to say next as King rubs his rough fingers over your knuckles, bringing them up to his lips to kiss them. His beard grazes your skin pleasantly as he opens his mouth. “Will you be my wife?” Your heart skips a beat.

“Truly?”

“True as my love for you.”

“Tomorrow?”

“If you wish.” You lean in to kiss him.

The door bangs open, Gus tosses a pail of water out all over you two. He realizes where you two were sitting, and his eyes widen.

"Gott verdammt."

“Oh, hell. I’m— what are the two of you doing out—?” He can’t even finish his sentence—you’re laughing too hard. King tries to keep up a grumpy facade at the fact that you had both just been drenched in ice water in this weather, but he can’t help it. Your laughter is infectious.

“Please tell me there is enough boiled water for a bath,” he sighs, and you shiver. “For the fraulein, at least.”

Django and Hildy had been up to witness the commotion from the noise of it all, no doubt committing the sight to memory for future teasing. They returned comfortably to bed with one another, which was a comfort you and King couldn’t currently afford in your state.

You get to work drawing the bath as Gus passes you each pails of hot water. King comes in, shedding his dripping fur coat and tugging at his tie. Your eyes drift down to his chest, then back up to his face. King subsequently tries to distract himself so as not to focus too hard on you. You had stripped down to your slip, which was stuck to every curve of your body from the water. The temperature hadn’t done much to help any other evidence of the cold, around your breasts. He tries not to look too long.

“Would you take me out of this?” you ask. It’s a harmless question, but King’s thoughts run wild. He could simply refuse you, but what reason would he give then? That he couldn’t control himself around you, so close to your wedding night?

“Of course,” he sighs softly, and approaches. He takes the back of the slip and undoes the buttons, helping you pull it over your head. He inches it up, the wet material dragging along your skin. He turns to go as you’re revealed, and to his dismay, you don’t stop him. Only one more night, and he could have all of you.

As you step out of the lodge, it’s as if you’ve stepped out into a painting. A light dusting of snow is falling over you, snowflakes catching in your eyelashes and melting tracks down your cheeks like tears of happiness. King is standing there at the end of the pathway shovelled out, just by the small lake. It’s frozen over, reflecting the light of the moon through every little icicle hanging from the branches of trees hanging over top of it. Mountains soar around the group of you, boasting the most beautiful landscape you’d ever seen.

King takes your hand as you approach. Beside him, you see Django dressed in a handsome green winter’s jacket, black leather gloves pristine. On your side, Broomhilda is wearing a beautiful green dress under layers of a form fitting brown jacket. You’re in a beautiful snow white dress with furs covering your shoulders and a fur hat. King is also wearing his grey fur coat. The two of you join hands, and recite vows.

“I know I’m a considerable number of years older than you,” King tells you softly, “But I promise to make up for this. I promise to protect you with my life, cherish you, and support you in every endeavor you wish to pursue.”

“I will stay by your side no matter what,” you tell him, “I’ll be brave when you can’t be. I’ll be strong when you need me to be. I’ll love you as long as my heart beats, and oppose anyone who tries to take you away.” Kindness in his eyes, King smiles down at you, crow’s feet crinkling. He lifts your hand up to kiss.

“Do you take this man?” the sheriff asks.

“I do.”

“Do you take this little lady?” King sighs out through his nose, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“I certainly do,” he breathes.

“Well hell, you may kiss the bride then!”

When King leans forward, you surprise him by taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around him, deepening the kiss. It lasts for an eternity between you, and when you part, King brushes the snow off your rosy cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead.

“Ich liebe dich,” he whispers into your hair, and you slide your arms around his middle in embrace.

Inside the bedroom upstairs, a fire crackles in the hearth. The curtains are open to the snowy view outside, and the frost on the glass only makes you savour the warmth inside. King pours you some bourbon, and comes to sit down beside you in front of the fire. As you cuddle into him, he puts a hand on your back and draws you in for a kiss, his beard pleasantly tickling your face. Bourbon forgotten, the kiss deepens, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth as you part your lips for more. You pull away, smiling.

“Can I ask you something?”

He looks at you. “Of course. What are you thinking about?”

“How does it feel?”

King looks at you. “You will have to be a little more specific.”

“How does it feel to finally consummate a marriage?”

He stares into the flickering fire. “We don’t have to do it if you’re nervous.”

“I didn’t say that,” you say, crawling over to straddle him. King welcomes you into his lap. “I just wanted to know. You’ll show me?”

“I would love to.”

“You know I’m inexperienced.”

“I do,” King nods.

“Isn’t that undesirable?” King seems offended that you would even suggest such a thing, at the very least ruffled by the idea of it.

“My dear, of course not. Being inexperienced merely means I can show you how to do things.” He hums against your neck, grazing his lips down.

“I’m not completely clueless,” you breathe as you tilt your head back to give him better access. You stand in one smooth movement in front of the fire, leaving King sitting and gazing up at you. “I know what fucking is.” You hear his exhaled breath.

“Yes. I would assume you wouldn’t be entirely in the dark about that.”

“But I’ve never felt it,” you whisper. “I wanna feel it, King.” He doesn’t get a chance to respond. You undo your dress, lace by lace, letting your fingers twine slowly between the hooks. You sigh his name as the corset comes free, recalling how you’d longed for him to do this last night, and you hook the straps of your dress under your thumbs, sliding it down to reveal the slip beneath. You hear his breath hitch, but he doesn’t make a move.

You run your hands down over your ass, letting out a soft noise. You hear him readjust where he’s sitting, and you work now on the cream coloured pants beneath the white gown, sliding them down ever so carefully.

“(y/n),” King whispers.

You let out a moan. “I’ve been wanting to get out of this the entire ceremony just to see how you would look at me, seeing me like this for the first time.” You swing your hips a little, arching your back, and finally wiggle some more as you drop your pants to the floor. King’s breathing is heavier now, and you stretch your arms above your head, sighing again as you let your hair free. “Like I said. I may not have done this before, but I know a lot more than you think I do.”

“I’m not certain I believe that, my feisty little one,” King huffs, averting eye contact. Oh, no. Not tonight he doesn’t. You’re only in your chemise now, and you turn to reveal smooth skin he’s never seen before, bunching the fabric up just enough to give him a peek of the v of your hips.

You can see the visible outline of his hardened cock in his pants, straining against the tight confines and desperate for some kind of relief. You put one leg over his lap to straddle him.

“Touch me?” you whisper, and reach down. He doesn’t stop you, just watches closely as you bring your hands to his pants, untie them, and reach in to take his cock in your hand. He does as you say, returning the touch with his hands up your back, taking the straps of your chemise down. He takes a shallow breath as your fingers come in contact with his warm cock. You grin wickedly, swiping your thumb up to spread his precum around a little. He meets your eyes as you pull him fully out of his pants.

“Oh,” he huffs gently, head falling back a little as you stroke him once.

“Is that good?” you ask softly, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Am I doing it right?” King stutters a little, gasping for air when you swipe over his swollen cockhead again.

“You are doing just fine,” King whispers, lips parting.

“Mmm,” you mumble, pressing a trail of wet kisses down his face and lazily taking his lips between your teeth, leading into a dizzying kiss full of tongue and one another’s slow breath.

“Stop. Wait my love,” King mumbles, stalling your wrist with his hand. You pout.

“What’s wrong?”

He opens his eyes to look at you, pupils blown with lust. “After a show like that, I am at your complete and ready service, not the other way around. Tell me exactly what you want me to do,” he whispers gently, and you get off of him, lying back on the floor like a princess awaiting a treat.

“Could you pleasure me with your mouth?”

Your cheeks heat, but King nods with a smile, dispelling any nerves you might have for such an intimate display of sensuality. He lays you on the floor, pressing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone and across the top of the soft skin of your breasts. His hands come up to gently hold your hips down as they circle upward—he moves your legs so he can brace himself between them, pressing more kisses down over your stomach to the impressions on your hips he’s left with his fingers.

“I want you to have me,” you whisper. King strokes one hand along your thigh.

“It takes time to discover each and every spot that will make you weak for me, lieb,” he mumbles, mouthing at your panties with a practiced finesse. “Be a good girl now for me. Be patient. There is more to come.” The bounty hunter takes the panties down with deft fingers, sliding the fabric down your legs until you’re bare to him. Your cheeks heat, but he reassures you with a starstruck gaze, looking over your body like a lovesick man. He dips his head back down with a soft kiss to your thigh, reaching up to hold your hips as if he’s predicted your body’s reaction already. He presses a reverent kiss to your clit, and his tongue takes a sweep of your folds, making you quiver as his beard scratches the soft skin of your thighs. His prediction proves correct when your hips jerk up as he gives his first lick between your lips. You reach back to grab the carpet, before deciding instead to grip onto his blonde and silver locks where his mouth works between your legs. It’s a surreal pleasure—unlike anything you’ve felt before, and you want more.

“Does that feel good?” King asks. All you can do is nod, but he encourages you to tell him exactly how you feel. “Use your words, fraulein.”

“Yes. Don’t stop,” you sigh.

“My good girl.” King dips back down, swirling his tongue around your bud until you’re shaking. Taking care to hold you close to him, he moves himself up until he’s grinding himself against you. “I want nothing more than to be inside of you,” he whispers.

“Take me as you wish then,” you groan.

“Tonight is about you,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I want it.”

Unbuckling himself, he takes his time slowly working a finger inside of you. He adds another and gently curves them up, before gauging your reaction. Going by the desperation in your face, he slowly replaces his fingers with his cock, pausing every inch to check and see if you’re still alright. You can tell how he’s exercising his restraint—you’re so tight, and all he wants to do is take you until both of you are sweaty and screaming, but he must make this last. You can feel him sliding into you, and his hand comes up to hold yours. Your eyes screw shut as he finally bottoms out, and he presses a kiss to your chest. “Tell me when it is okay to move.” You nod.

“Please.” He starts up a slow pace, covering your body with his as he takes his time with you. Too desperate to take the time King might have in mind to teach you patience, you push your lips harder against him, and roll over on top of him. You kiss the bounty hunter, again and again until your lips are swollen and King is painfully hard inside of you.

“Lift up your shirt for me,” he whispers, his voice gentle. “That’s it.”

“Have me,” you mumble.

“What was that?” King asks, “You must use your words if you would like something, hm?”

You blink up at your older lover. “Please take me King,” you raise your voice, and he smiles.

“Hm.” He gives you an affectionate smile. “I have no choice but to oblige my lady love when she asks as nicely as that. Very well. As you wish.”

He pumps in harder, ripping a groan from you. You’d dreamed of what this would feel like, and it turned out better than you had imagined, King’s soft sighs and the rocking of his body against yours heightening every touch he grazes your sensitive skin with.

A moment later, he pulls out and flips you over gently. He then positions himself between your legs and brings his mouth back down between your legs, suckling around your clit again. “King,” you whisper, breath hitching.

“Louder,” he encourages, and goes back to masterfully taking you apart with his tongue. He soon encourages you to sit on his face, and you do, feeling him lick you perfectly as the pleasant feeling of his beard returns to tantalize your skin. He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue as you reach down to touch his cock. It’s a foreign feeling in your hand, but you soon get the hang of the motions, twisting your fist and using his precum to slick your strokes.

“King... don’t stop,” you groan, his tongue delving just barely inside of you. He moves off of your pussy as you moan, and licks his lips.

“I must admit, I wanted nothing more than to do this all day,” he groans as he moves back up your body, “But I am a gentleman.”

“Too much of one sometimes.”

As if in challenge, he picks up his pace and starts to grunt your name, leaning down every now and then between thrusts to press a kiss to your breastbone as his face scrunches up. You love how uncharacteristically possessive King is getting– it turns you on beyond belief. Your moans grow loud as the bounty hunter’s cock fills you over and over again, satisfying your need for him as your noises blend together into the creak, groan, gasp of making love for the first time.

“K… King…” you groan, breasts bouncing with every thrust. His breath is hot on your neck, and he presses an open mouthed kiss there.

“You are astonishing,” he whispers, “You’re perfect… oh, bitte, bitte Fraulein, you feel so nice… you are my everything.”

“King, just like that, oh god–” you groan, and he makes a noise at your slutty display, reaching up to massage your breasts. You feel your orgasm approach as he continues to touch you, and his hand quickly comes down to rub your clit.

“Ah,” you moan, and clutch his shoulders. King sighs, feeling your pussy squeeze him, and with a stuttered thrust he cums as well, spilling inside you. Soon, you’re crying out his name, and he squeezes your hand tighter as you both finish at the same time, the love you share burning at the height of its passion as your bodies become one. You both rock together to ride out your orgasms until you’re satisfied. Panting breaths mingle as you snuggle close to him.

“Is that what all the fuss was about?” you tease. King frowns at you, and you laugh into his chest.

“Into bed before I take full offense to your jokes, beloved,” he murmurs. You nod, smiling as he helps you up with one hand and carries you bridal style over to the bed covered in furs for a warm night’s sleep together—finally together.

"I am lucky I have such a pretty creature warming my bed tonight," he jokes, "A plucked chicken like me should be very grateful." You huff another laugh, rolling over beside him to finally tuck in with your love.

"I've only ever wanted you. That'll never change, no matter what." You grin. "Tonight only helped solidify that fact."

"So you are with me for my talents in the bedroom, ah!"

"NO--"

"I understand it now."

"King!"

"Shh. Let's sleep now. We will argue like an old married couple in the morning."

The next day, Hildy and Django are already in the living room of the lodge. Gus is in the kitchen making up some breakfast.

“You look radiant this morning,” Broomhilda says, smile wide.

“Yeah. You do look pretty good. Different,” Django nods, narrowing his eyes as if to try and decipher what could have changed about you. Hildy just rolls her eyes, turning back to you from her own husband.

“So. Where’s your significant other?” You grab yourself a cup for the coffee that’s brewing, settling in across from them at the table.

“He’s still sleeping. He worked hard last night.” Tucked in the pocket of your nightgown is a single perfect, yellow rose he had saved you from the South, one King had left his new wife to find upon waking.

#dr king schultz #dr king schultz x reader #king schultz #king schultz x reader #django unchained #quentin tarantino #christoph waltz #christoph waltz x reader #django #django fanfiction #tarantino fanfiction #dr schultz #reader x dr king schultz

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rachelbethhines · 3 years

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Tangled Salt Marathon - The Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne

So now we get to what is, in my opinion, the best episode in season three. However, it’s still season three, so that’s damning with faint praise.

Summary: Rapunzel tasks the kingdom with refurbishing the throne room. While breaking down a wall, they find a map to the Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne and Rapunzel decides to set up a race to the location. The teams, which consist of twos, are only allowed to look at the map briefly before the start of the race. However, Rapunzel's partner, Feldspar, brings a copy of the map with him and he warns her that the treasure is cursed.

Why Are You Just Getting to This Now?

It’s literally been months since you defeated the Saporians. Edmund had to have time to travel all this way to Corona and you’ve rebuilt an entire village since then. We’re talking at bare minimum three months or more.

Who just leaves a gapping hole inside their home for three months? Where did you conduct the government’s important business during that time? Is there any other structural damage to the castle or the town outside from previous battles that you’ve just left unattended? I understand that rebuilding Old Corona is important but those villagers have been evacuated and living elsewhere for a year and a half now since Queen for a Day. It wasn’t a priority, but this is.

Also this episode has to come after The Return of the King and Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf because Red, Angry, and Hamuel exist. It can’t just be slotted in somewhere else in order for it to make more sense. The writers genuinely planned for Rapunzel to be this disorganized and didn’t think to give a logical reason as to why.

Also Why Are You Conscripting Regular Citizens Instead of Hiring Professional Contractors?

Unlike Old Corona, which is a full on community that would require multiple building projects going on simultaneously and therefore could use volunteers, this is a single government building. It’s Rapunzel’s job as leader to make sure that that building is kept maintained and up to code. It’s her responsibility not the regular average citizen’s who has their own jobs to do and zero experience with construction.

Rapunzel is literally forcing these people to be slave labor for her under the pretense of ‘community’. She’s taking their time away from their own busy lives, forcing them to work a dangerous job, and not compensating them for that time, effort, and risk. And no, they’re not just volunteers at this point; because as acting queen, no one can safely say no to her nor can they just leave even when they’re clearly annoyed and fed up at having to do the work.

Lastly they’re untrained. They lack the skills and tools to this job. You need an architect, you need a safety inspector, you need actual carpenters and masonries ... maybe even an interior decorator... The point is you need trained professionals and part of being an administrator is using government funding to hire these people in order to make sure the work gets done safely and efficiently and create jobs and keep money circulating through the economy.

Rapunzel may not mean any harm. She might just be oblivious and untrained herself. But this is terrible leadership and the show never points that out. It never has her learn how to be a better a ruler so by the end of the series you don't feel she’s earned that title of Queen and you fear for the kingdom’s continued existence.

So Why Is This Here?

Why would there be a Saporian map to a king of Corona’s tomb hidden in the wall? What’s the story behind this?

Yes we know his wife was Saporian, but that doesn’t explain anything. Why would she need a map on the wall to her own husband’s resting place; assuming he didn’t out live her himself. Why would said map be carved into the wall of Corona’s castle and not written on a scroll? Why is it in Saporian when they don't speak that language in Corona?

Like I could come up with explanations and create this whole backstory for Herz Der Sonne and the first Saporian/Coronian War, but at this point I’d just be doing the work of the writers for them. They’re the ones who introduced this lore and had it inform plot points and character motivation; and then failed to explain any of it to the audience and adequately have it all connect back together in a way that makes sense.

The Moment When You Realize This Whole Episode Exists Because Zachary Levi Enjoys Doing an Ed Wynn Impersonation

Ok time to explain some behind the scenes Info.

This is Ed Wynn.

As you can tell from the gif above, he’s famous for voicing the Mad Hatter in Disney’s Alice in Wonderland. He’s also done a whole bunch of other stuff and was well known even before working with Disney, but the Mad Hatter is his most well remembered role today.

Many actors, particularly voice actors, like to do impressions of him because he has such a distinctive voice. Including Eugene’s VA, Zachery Levi.

Now I don’t know if the character of Feldspar was created specifically because the creators were inspired by Zachery Levi’s impression, or if they had this character already planned out and just casted him in the role since he could do it and it’d save them money. Either scenario is plausible and not unheard of in animation. But the long and short of it is, as a shoemaker, Feldspar is intended to be a parody of the Mad Hatter. That is why the character exists.

Now as I said, this isn’t unusual for animated tv shows. Quite often you get main cast members to voice secondary and/or one off characters because it’s convenient, efficient, and doable when working with audio recordings. Also quite often voice actors will do impressions of other famous people to flesh out these background characters. It’s also not out of left field for these secondary characters to get an episode of focus if they’ve been around for awhile and keep popping up in the story.

What is unusual, however, is to focus on said character in the final season when there are a bunch of other more important characters with unresolved arcs that need the screen time more. It’s an incredibly odd decision to highlight Feldspar here when we still got Varian readjusting back into society, Red and Angry settling into their new home, and Edmund running around off screen. And while some of these character feature in the episode, they’re just there for the jokes not for any development.

What’s a “Sap Pond” and How Does That Even Work?

Ok its a fantasy world, I get it. But the franchise does try to have a distinction between the magical and the mundane. Or at least pretends to try and have a distinction. There’s to my knowledge no such thing as a ‘sap pond’, and if such a thing does exist I doubt it’s an actual deep pit full of tree sap as shown here.

If you want characters to still be surprised by out of the ordinary occurrences and have the supernatural world be separate from the regular world; then you need to have the mundane world grounded in our known reality. Nature needs to function as real world nature would. If something exists in your world that doesn't in ours, then you need to either explain it or have the characters responded appropriately to it.

But You’re a Prince Now?

Look, I’ll buy that season one Eugene didn’t have unlimited access to the royal treasury as he and Rapunzel were still new to their roles and their relationship. But it’s been over two years since the movie ended.

Since then Eugene and Rapunzel have lived together, shared finances together, and currently are co-acting rulers of the kingdom. He’s also a bonified prince in of itself on top of being practically married to princess/queen.

Yeah I said it. Part of what makes season three so frustrating is that Rapunzel and Eugene are functionally married at this point, they just haven’t gone through the ceremony yet, and there’s no stated reason for why they keep dragging things out.

This is why we get out of place jokes like this that no longer reflect who Eugene is now as a person and feel like they belong back in season one or the even the movie itself.

I can understand if he wanted to join in the competition because it’s fun, but he’s not poor. Neither he nor Rapunzel needs the treasure. I’m not sure even Lance needs it because as Eugene’s best friend/adopted brother he’s piratically nobility at this point as well.

Royalty and the rich are not and never will be underdogs show. Stop trying to make them such.

So Why Feldspar Again?

This is such a half assed plot point.

Remember Rapunzel literally pulled out a book earlier to translate the map. Xavier not only knows the legends about the Saporians, but also keeps a book of magic lying around, and the Saporians are the only human people who have functioning magic in the show as part of their culture. Varian spent a year living and working with the Saporian leader, and knows how to decipher ancient scrolls written in dead languages. And said Saporians, are being currently held in the dungeons of the castle.

But you’re telling me that only a random cobbler can read the warning clearly written on the map?

They give some bullshit reason as to why Feldspar knows Sapoprian but it doesn’t matter. It’s a forced and contrived excuse to get the character involved in a plot he has no business being in. The story fails to justify the use him over the other more prominent characters who have closer ties to this particular subplot.

And We’re Suppose to Believe That Herz Der Sonne Was a Good Guy?

Why would a benevolent king who supposedly brought peace to a warring land have a doomsday curse involving zombies? Why would said king be enshrined a tomb that’s not native to his culture? What even is the treasure and why be buried with it?

There’s clearly more going on here regarding Corona’s past and the treatment of the Saporians as a people in their own right, but the show never does anything with it. Why introduce these complexities and world building if you’re not going to tell a story with them? Why have the Saporian subplot at all in a series already over stuffed with villains if you aren’t going to have them challenge your protagonist and have her grow into a more mature person?

I’m not dunking on the series for being ambitious nor for having flavor text to help flesh out the world, but it so aggravating that there’s no follow through on the show’s set ups and narrative promises. If you’re not going to give the needed focus to something then just don’t put it in. Cause once it’s aired you’re committed to it and the audience is going to hold you to account.

I haven’t seen plot mismanagement this bad since the 80s; back when cartoons had to battle network syndication, episode commissions instead of contracted seasons, and could be canceled at any time without prior notice. Now there’s still plenty of bad practices going on in the industry, especially as the move to streaming messes with things, but Tangled does not have the same excuses as say Johnny Quest, Dungeons and Dragons, or even Gargoyles did.

How Do You Even Know That Would Work, Rapunzel?

No seriously, how does Rapunzel know that putting the treasure chest back on the pedestal will stop the cruse? That hasn’t been established yet by any known source of information. Heck no one knew what the curse actually entailed until it was activated. Except for Xavier who oh so conveniently didn’t say anything until the last moment. If anyone should have the knowledge to on how to end the curse it’s him. But nope we gotta make the Rapunzel the infallible hero who is always right for no logical reason.

I don’t know how to explain this to you show, but perfect is boring. No one wants a flawless protagonist who can do it all 24/7 without any help whatsoever. And it becomes down right annoying to watch a hero who is clearly flawed still put upon a narrative pedestal as if they weren’t.

So Why is Varian Suddenly Useless In This Fight?

This entire climax is about showcasing the ‘power of teamwork’ by having the characters use their various skills sets and work together to defeat the enemy.

Except for Varian.

He’s treated at best as a spectator to the unfolding events and at worst as a damsel in distress.

Varian. You know the guy who is the series most competent and threating antagonist. Who brought an entire kingdom to it’s knees, twice. The only other character besides Rapunzel herself who could and does hold his own against other major antagonists, including super powered ones.

If this was just a one off incident, I’d just shrug it away as him being a glass cannon; insanely overpowered when well prepared but easily out of his depth when not. But that’s not what’s happening here.

Season three constantly nerfs Varian’s abilities, same as they did back in The Alchemist Returns, and there’s three reasons for this.

The first is to try and stop him from overshadowing Rapunzel and Cassandra. The writers don’t want to give him any more story focus for fear of him being more popular the the two girls. Which is a ridiculous and petty reason to write a character OOC but there you go.

The second is the on going issue of making Rapunzel needlessly the center of any and all solutions to every problem regardless of her level of involvement in the initial conflict. Yes, it’s her show, but she’s still not the whole world. Other people exist outside of her and it’s not fair to anybody when the writers ignore that simple fact.

Last is the writers sacrificing established character for a joke. And as already pointed out, even in this very review, Varian’s not the only character to fall victim to this. It’s just bad writing. Yeah the joke might be funny in the moment but you run the risk of jarring you’re audience’s immersion. In a series like Tangled where you’re constantly asking the audience to suspend their disbelief, humor needs to be firmly rooted in the characters natural behaviors and must evolve to match any character development.

Why not just have Varian throw a chimball or two, run out cause he wasn’t planning on fighting anybody that day, and then have the other characters rescue him? It’s not that hard to work in a joke while still being respectful of the characters.

So What Does Anybody Learn From This Episode?

Yeah the other characters learn some vague lesson on teamwork and getting along or something, but they’re not the focus of the episode. What do Rapunzel and Feldspar learn?

Unlike some people I don’t mind Feldspar’s existence. When’s he’s kept as a background character he works. In fact he’s one of the few townspeople who do work as intended, because he’s representative of the everyday citizen who’s often on the outside looking in on these fantastical events and therefore gives insight into what’s going on and the populous’ opinions on things without being a major player in anything.

That's fine, needed even, and I don’t mind him getting a single focus episode to gain a greater insight into how this world works or even flesh out his character more, but that’s not what we got. Feldspar doesn’t grow as a character because of this episode. I, as the viewer watching, learn nothing about him nor his life that I didn’t already know. This resolution with him resolves nothing cause it’s a ending for a conflict that was never established beforehand.

In fact what even was the main conflict of the story? Rapunzel being annoyed by Feldspar? Ok and..? Did she need to learn not to be annoyed by him? Was that a thing that needed to be addressed? Hasn’t Rapunzel already put up with annoying people before now? Was was this deficiency of character actually solved by this one interaction? Has she learned to be more appreciative, attentive, or open minded of others?

If you tell me it’s Rapunzel’s show then I expect Rapunzel to actually learn shit!

I expect the external conflicts to tie back into her interpersonal conflicts. If the external conflict does not do that than there better well be a another character who gets that focus instead without her hogging the limelight.

This Dynamic Adds Nothing

They set up this friendship with Varian and Xavier and it doesn't go anywhere. It never comes back into play and we never see them interacting on screen together again. It also undermines a future plot point that’s coming up later.

More over it doesn’t further either of their characters.

Xavier is still an extraneous exposition fairy. Turning his flat characterization into a one note joke does not erase that fact. Giving him a kid to tell stories to doesn’t explain his place in the narrative or give him purpose to the story. We still don’t know why he has these connections to magic nor how he knows all the this lore, and he doesn’t push the plot forward.

Meanwhile Varian maybe lonely but that doesn’t mean he needs yet another mentor figure in his life. We already have his father, who we barely see him interact with since coming back, and all his other ‘friends’ are way older then him already as well. Rapunzel’s the closest in age to him and she is constantly condescending to, well everybody, as she pretends to be more mature than she actually is. There’s no one in the story who Varian is on equal footing with, and no Angry and Red don't count as they’re far younger than him.

I don’t know what this series has against teenagers but it showcases some very unhealthy depictions of them; ether by constantly infantilizing them, traumatizing them while subjecting them to parentification, or just flat out ignoring their existence all together.

Teenagers exist and they need to be treated as teenagers. I don’t know how to put it more simply than that. Teens aren’t children. Teens aren’t adults. They’re teens. And when writing for them you need to understand that difference and acknowledge that they have a completely different phycological development and placement within society to anybody else. That’s why the category of adolescence exists separately from childhood and adulthood in the first place.

So to tie things back to the first point. The concept of Xavier and Varian having a friendship is not a problem. But as with so many things on this show, it’s the surrounding context and lack of follow through where the issues arises.

Varian needs a friend his age, who is his equal, more so than a mentor; if indeed Xavier is even intended to serve that function as he doesn’t do any real mentoring. This should have been an opportunity to bring Faith in and establish her better. In fact it’s reasons like this why she should have been a bigger character all along but we’ll get more into that as we get to her only ‘focus’ episode.

Conclusion

It’s fun seeing all the various character interactions and unique team ups. Also the humor does work. The jokes do land even if they do bulldoze through established canon. Plus seeing Rapunzel actually annoyed by shit going on around her is always entertaining as it humanizes her. If watched in isolation from the rest of season three, this is an enjoyable episode. But that’s it’s core problem. I shouldn’t have to find filler to keep me going in the last leg of the show.

This was pretty short comparatively speaking with the rest of the ones I have to write for S3, but longer ones are going to come out more slowly just due to real life and time. As always though you’re support is helpful in keeping going, and if you feel like you can donate to my Ko-fi and leave a tip there.

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rapunzel #varian #anti-tangled #feldspar

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xxlauraxsophiexx · 3 years

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Daryl x reader: Haircut

Here is a Daryl Dixon x reader one shot. No smut, except a short make out session.

I’m sorry for my bad English, it’s not my native language.

Sadly I don’t own The Walking Dead or the characters.

The wind was cold and made goosebumps run down your (y/n) arms. Dusk had already fallen. Exhausted from the long day, you could feel yourself lacking a little more strength with each step you took. The leaves rustled and the trees swayed back and forth in the wind.

"How much longer?" you complained.

Daryl sighed and replied annoyed, "About 20 more minutes, girl. If you'd hurry up a bit, we'll get to Alexandria before nightfall too!"

Rolling your eyes, you walked behind your friend. You didn't bother to be quiet. The leaves rustled and branches broke as soon as you stepped on them.

"I'm hurrying, but I really can't go on. My legs hurt, I'm sweaty, my hair is covered in dirt, I'm hungry and..."

Daryl's hand shot up. A sign to be quiet. As quietly as you could, you crept over to the tree behind which Daryl was spooked.

"What's going on?" you whispered.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder and pulled you in front of his chest, still hiding behind the large tree. Gently, he placed a hand on your head and gently stroked his fingers through your hair, which reached above your hips. You loved it when he did that and he also liked your incredibly long hair, which lay perfectly around your curves. He turned his head to the left and in your field of vision were about twenty biters stumbling through the undergrowth.

You were exhausted and you knew Daryl had little energy left too. It had been a long and eventful day that you would certainly not soon forget. Annoyed, you let out a heavy breath.

"Let's wait a minute and then quickly go past them."

You nodded silently and looked at the dead but still moving figures.

After about 5 minutes, most of the strange figures had passed. Cautiously, Daryl and you stepped out from behind the tree. Daryl with his crossbow in his hand and you with a knife.

You walked up to an undead and framed your knife in its skull. After he fell to the ground, you ran to the next one and rammed a knife into his skull as well. Just as you were about to run further, you were pulled back by your long hair, which hurt a little. As far as you could see over your shoulder, you saw a bony hand of an undead raking your hair. You stumbled forward and fell to the forest floor, the undead half on your back. It tried to bite into your throat. Lying on your stomach with the undead knotted in your hair, it was hard to keep the creature away from you, but you tried as best you could.

"Head down."

As your friend said, so did you. A few seconds later you felt the figure slump on top of you and finally cold, cees blood dripping onto your shoulders.

Quickly, two more arrows shot through the air. They bounded into the monsters forehead and they fell limply to the ground.

Daryl came running over to you and carefully tried to pry the undead's hand out of your long hair, which was becoming more and more saturated with the bloody substance.

Finally, he lifted the dead man off you and helped you up.

"You okay, sunshine?"

You just nodded briefly and buried your face in his strong chest. Carefully he began to run his hands through your bloody hair and rested his head on yours.

"As much as I love your long hair, I'm afraid you should cut some off".

You loved your long hair and knew he was right somewhere, but still you weren't ready to cut your hair off.

"No!"

"Not even 10 centimetres?"

You sighed. Ten centimetres wasn't very much on you. Your hair would still be exceptionally long. It would end just above your hip bone, which was actually still acceptable.

"All right," you groan out, annoyed.

"Come on, girl. Let's go back."

The warm water felt good on your skin. The blood and dirt coloured the water for a while, but eventually it cleared up. The door opened and Daryl came into the bathroom.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," you murmured as you enjoyed the pleasant feeling of the water splashing down.

The shower door opened and Daryl came in. Despite all the dirt, you wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head against his chest with your eyes closed. Gently, he laid your hair over your right shoulder and began to paint small circles on your lower back. His skin was rough, but you loved the feeling of his movements through your body. Daryl's lips settled on your hairline, making you grumble slightly against his chest. You were sure there was a smile on his face now.

He took a hand from your back and lifted your chin with one finger, making you look into his eyes. A strange feeling, but one you loved, ran through your body. Your lips parted and already his were resting on yours. A soft moan escaped you as he bit your lower lip to gain entry. You gladly granted it and already there was a fight for dominance in your mouth. After winning, he began to run his lips down your neck and under your ear. He spread hasty kisses and sucked in some places that he knew would make you weak. Another moan escaped you and you let your hands wander into his hair, where they tangled.

After a while you both pulled back and you rested your head against his chest again from fatigue. You felt his chest vibrate, so you slapped him lightly on his muscular arms. While you rested against Daryl, he began to wash his hair and body. It wasn't too easy, but he still managed it well. Sighing, he began to wash and rinse your hair as well.

"Come on sunshine, let's get you to bed".

The water stopped raining on the two of you and you felt a towel being placed around your body. Gently your skin was dried and finally you were lifted up by one hand under your knees and one at your back and carried to the bed you shared. Carefully you were laid on the soft mattress and your naked body was covered by a blanket. Half asleep, you noticed Daryl leave again, which is why you started mewling around, "Daryl!"

"I'll be right there y/n."

Sighing, you buried your face in the pillow and waited for Daryl to come back. The light went out and you felt the blanket lift up next to you. Immediately you snuggled up against Daryl's naked torso.

"Have another drink before you sleep."

Annoyed, you groaned and sat up. Gratefully, you accepted Daryl's glass of water and took a few sips. Finally, you gave him back the glass with the cool liquid and snuggled close to his warm body again. He gently stroked your scalp and pulled you close to him with his other arm around your waist.

The last thing you felt was a soft kiss on your hairline and an 'I love you'.

"Come on, let's cut your hair."

You rolled your eyes in annoyance....

"I saw that"

"I saw that," you mimicked him.

In a moment you were lifted up and sat in front of a mirror in the bedroom. Daryl placed a towel around your petite body and took out a pair of scissors.

"Wait. Wait. Wait. Have you done this before?"

Daryl just laughed, "Trust me."

Sceptically you looked at him, "Not too trusting."

Shaking his head he began to comb your hair and part it neatly.

"I'm really not going to cut much off," he tried to reassure you.

"I would hope so if I were you, otherwise I know who won't be having any fun in this room for the next month!"

Rolling his eyes, Daryl began to cut off ten inches of your hair. Taking his time to get the best possible result. After a short while, he finished and took the towel away. Already you were standing and tousling through your hair. It stopped just above your waist and not ten centimetres further as usual.

"At least this way I don't have to worry about you so much anymore. How many times have you gotten your hair tangled in a tree, please? And the chance of you being grabbed by the hair by a biter is also a little less."

"True enough Dixon. I should probably do a braid before we leave the state, though."

"Well, go ahead and make one right now. Rick has asked for our help. We have to leave in an hour," Daryl reported.

"What?" you complained, "I thought we had the day off."

"Stop complaining girl, just get ready. This is going to be a short trip too."

"How many times have I heard that..." you stated rolling your eyes.

"Y/N?!"

You let out an annoyed yell and angrily threw the hairbrush across the bedroom. Daryl came running through the door and looked around the room in confusion. You had already started trying to braid half your hair close to your head and further down. After starting, you gave out annoyed again, because you just couldn't get it to look remotely nice.

Daryl stood behind the chair you were sitting on and began to comb your hair with the hairbrush he had just picked up again.

"What the hell are you doing, Dixon?"

"I'm braiding your hair because you obviously can't do it, sunshine," he instructed you. As he began to braid.

"As if you could do it any better," you said, annoyed and meek.

"Oh sunshine, if you only knew. Before all this I had to learn to braid my little cousin's hair. My dad and his brother were often away for weeks at a time, so Merle and I had to look after the little one. Merle was never the best with little kids, so that was left on me..."

You knew how hard it was for him to talk about anything before the apocalypse. When he finished a page, you turned and took his hand in yours. You kissed his cheek gently and whispered, "I love you".

"I know, I love you too".

It was quiet for a moment you leaned against him.

"Happy with the results?"

You pulled back and started at your reflection.

"Honestly how is it that you're so good at this?"

Daryl just laughed softly in response and started braiding the other half of your hair.

"I already know who's always going to do my hair now," you said confidently.

"Do I look like your personal hairdresser, girl?"

"Yep."

"Dream on, girl".

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #fluff #reader #the walking dead imagines

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skepticaloccultist · 4 years

Text

The Mirror of the Landscape

I thought I would offer this article on landscape magic from the first issue of FOLKWITCH as a public offering this Solstice. May the sun burn bright and the bonfires burn brighter on the hills of your ancestors.

"The Mirror of the Landscape" Eldred Wormwood

The realm of the witch is defined by their interactions with that natural world in which they exist. From the dawn of mankind’s attempts to harness the power of magic we have relied on the subtle web of our interactions with the world “beyond the veil.” That mirror of the landscape in which we read our fortunes and prophecy our circumstance.

Yet little direct attention has been paid to the role that the landscape plays in the practice of witchcraft in the annals of so called occult scholarship. Much has been said about the how of practical magic and ritual, but very rarely do we hear of the why or where.

The landscape, that terrain in which you exist every moment of the day. From the dew covered foggy mountain bottoms to the industrial park urban sprawl the landscape surrounds us. It is the plane of reality in which we live.

You bleed into the ground. Feed the soil with your sweat and tears. Drink from the well that fills from its water table, your body becomes one with the place you inhabit. The landscape and the body are part of the system, the inextricable network of interrelated particles that make up evolving life on earth.

Most humans, mundanes without the perception to see the world for what it is, simply go about the actions of living life in survival mode. Take what they need, give what they must, eat, sleep and eventually die. But the witch sees the world at a resolution differently than most, looks at those shadows that others ignore, sees the light through the trees as more than random, holds on to the language of pattern.

The witch reads the world like a book of secrets, the landscape a story of evolving ideas that we grasp and understand. The clouds like a language, the whisper of the wind through trees, the way that puddles of rain reflect the sky - a signal we come to understand.

Your nose knows the way it seems, a deep sensor of quantum mechanics it feels like a finger into the cloud of potentiality that is the future, guiding you through the fog of possibility until you reach your goal along the path. The nose knows, if only you could speak its subtle language.

Mankind has always existed in the landscape, even in our futile attempts to control it. We are primates, who lived among forests and grass plains so recently that rivers remember when there were no cities. We are part of the natural world, whether we realize it or not. The witch is merely aware of this fact, and that knowledge creates an open state of knowing.

The landscape itself is a sound system, filled with the reverberations of not merely the events that have unfolded in this river of time, but the echos of other rivers descending in a swirling madness of never and always, meting out punishment when needed to teach the seeker a lesson in humility.

The mass of forms on the surface of the earth create chambers that capture the sounds and energies created by living things. These echos are the ancestors, speaking across the illusion of time to teach us the way toward the future. The beat in the echo of space like a drum in a forest, like a stolen P A in a Detroit warehouse.

From the time before written words we had strove to gain a foothold in this primordial state. Abrahamic religions even cite our fall from this world of perception, though go on to ban anyone who would seek it out for themselves.

In the ancient Greek Magical Papyri it is documented our relationship with the spirits who inhabit this physical world around us. While they rarely have corporeal bodies these spirits wield incredible power over the forces of the natural world.

These ‘genius loci’ tend to a static place, inhabiting features in the landscape full of energy. Rivers & streams, mountain valleys, ancient forests, those places where the nexus of being affords them a comfortable habitat.

Yet even in the urban world that we have carved they have evolved to function. Certain forms of building, areas of great human traffic like crossroads, material places we have created for sometimes other reasons that the abode of these spirits have come over time to find ‘genius loci’ of their own. Instead of teeth of thorn and stone they bare teeth of glass and steel.

Not all seekers can walk a path of pure natural landscape. Many are stuck in the sprawl of urban decay, watching ruins of man’s 1970s bad design decisions be polished into glass and steel turds of prefabricated corporate enclaves. Startup incubator hellscapes that shine in the rain like a b set on the Blade Runner story board artwork.

The city is haunted by these corridors of steel, the shades that stalk the streets are those of the dead homeless, of working girls and deranged ex bankers tossed out of their office after breaking down in a fit of anti- capitalist rage and destroying the spreadsheets through which mankind must continually consume.

We work our magic at these crossroads of manmade forms, concrete covered in tar and piss, the smell of car exhaust thick like incense of copal, the steel and glass become an altar at which we sacrifice lives to the deities of consumption and avarice.

In the 1950s a group of modern thinkers created the philosophical genre of psychogeography. The Situationists, primarily under the influence of Guy Debord, outline this critical analysis of the landscape in a series of articles published in the “Internationale Situationniste”.

Debord would publish his seminal work “Theory of the Dérive” originally in Les Lèvres Nues #9 (November 1956). In this short piece he outlines a form of practical divinatory landscape magic (though he does not make reference to magic directly) he dubs “dérive” which translates roughly as “drifting”.

“The ecological analysis of the absolute or relative character of fissures in the urban network, of the role of microclimates, of distinct neighborhoods with no relation to administrative boundaries, and above all of the dominating action of centers of attraction, must be utilized and completed by psychogeographical methods. The objective passional terrain of the dérive must be defined in accordance both with its own logic and with its relations with social morphology.” - Guy Debord, “Theory of the Dérive”

While Debord was primarily preoccupied with the urban environment, these ideas being born out of creative theories of the urban dwelling surrealists and eventually the situationists, they hark back to various forms of wandering and coming to know one’s environment through intimate journey common in rural areas throughout history. The “riding” of Scotland, the “walkabout” of the Australian native tribes, many cultures have a prescribed method of coming to know oneself via the land. Yet rarely do these cultural ideas of landscape exploration delve into the nature of the landscape in any scientific way.

The witch walks as well among the ruins of capitalism as we do the forest floor. We smell the stench of mankind’s death lingering on the horizon, a literal forest fire shouting in hisses and belches “I can’t breathe.” But even the urban witch needs time out away from the designed landscapes of man’s continual betrayal.

Out of the city, into the remaining forests and plains, to the mountains and beaches bereft of human indignities. Here we recharge ourselves, listen at the lectern of that parliament of birds, meditate in that complex drone of bees in a flower covered field. The wind through various trees speaking to us in a tongue we have always known but have no name for, only the sounds that tell us things we have always wondered but were simply afraid to ask.

This is the sabbat, this return to nature. This is the revelry for which we must escape even the most dreary urban existence, this soil from which our blood is fed, these waters to cleanse our spirit in preparation for the journey we must take along the path.

The “land” is itself the surface of the Earth’s crust, an area created by the shifting of the tectonic plates. This thin skin of cooled material harbors and incredibly diverse ecosystem. Yet it is not just above the soil that life lives. Deep into the earth we find an enormous quantity of complex lifeforms existing at depths we have only recently come to understand.

That earth, a particle itself screaming through naked space. A vehicle we inhabit, a space station ringing out dub frequencies into the cosmos. The electromagnetic field of the sun, its orbiting particles/planets shifting over the empty space in the radiant aura of that star at the center of the solar system.

When we look up into space we see nothing more than particles. Screaming suns that ring out just like every atom in your body. Interrelated electromagnetic fields pulsing in waves like haunted sound-systems. Singing that tune your soul needs, urging you on to the sex beat of reproduction. The pounding drums of interstellar rain inhabiting your abode, shining out of your eyes and your mouth like the burning of a salamander born under a blackened sun.

The surface of the earth we inhabit is not merely the geographic variables we perceive, nor is it only the organic film that clings to the upper layers of the outer crust. The earth is inhabited by more beings than can be accounted for with mass and electrons. Beings of light and gravity, magnetism and electricity. They inhabit rivers, mountains, crossroads. They ring out the tune you seek, dance to the beat you need but if only you could see with your ears and hear with your eyes.

Throughout this region there is an electromagnetic field of complex forms, irradiated by material objects (including the earth itself) yet influenced by shifting patterns of energy in space beyond the biosphere. Like a tapestry made of energy this electromagnetic field contains forms of life long known to the witch, yet hardly understood by common society.

These entities exist in ways both dimensionally and frequency shifted from our own plane of existence. While we are able to bridge the gap between our realm and theirs, and these dimensions do share a common fabric, it is only through practice that we can become accustom to their existence.

Spirits; whose names and forms are as varied as the names mankind has given to shades of colour and light. These beings we refer to as ancestor, kith, and elemental are but part of an ecosystem we have little knowledge of, and what rare knowledge we have is occulted.

With various forms of offering, pacts and rituals we have come to learn how to coax them into allegiance. How to work with them and communicate. Though much of our ritual action is not for them, it is to prepare us as practitioners for the mental and emotional toil of interaction with beings whose existence is obscure. This is why our offerings must come from our possessions, must have meaning to us. Our mental desire projected into the value of an object enriches its value in our trade with those who inhabit the landscape.

As old as it is in the realm of practical magic that concept we have been referring to as “landscape magic” is long overdue for a more accurate descriptive terminology. We have relied for centuries on the designations of various religious authorities to give form to our understanding of these beings, even in the days of ancient Greece, where the witch’s perception was shaped by the everyday culture and beliefs of the ancient Greek.

The secularization of witchcraft, particularly in the practices of the folkwitch, leaves us a framework that can adopt to a practitioner’s own religious beliefs, or be parallel to them in the practicalities of magical practice.

Yet the terminology of “landscape magic” is limited through lack of direct dialog between the disparate practitioners. When we turn to those authors whose work have touched on landscape magic beyond the psychogeographers, (historians like George Ewart Evans, folklorists like Katharine Briggs) we see a pattern of understanding in the practice of common folk magic throughout the world of interaction with a class of spirits whose form and function are shaped equally by the physical manifestation of the geographic landscape in which they inhabit, and the socio cultural framework of the practitioner in their understanding of the shape of the universe.

When we have considered the language of magic and its history of cultural appropriation we have tried in many ways to find a terminology that best represents the broader ideas encapsulated in “landscape magic”, in particular relation to the folkwitch.

Jake Stratton Kent, in his landmark text “Geosophia”, outlines the history and origins of grimoiric magic through the concept of Goetia, a body of knowledge whose origins are derived primarily from the ancient Greek Magical Papyri. While he doesn’t dissect the name of his volume the term “geosophia” is a Greek compound derived of “geo” for earth and “sophia” for wisdom.

The relation of goetia, though distinct and historical, to landscape magic is apparent in that many of the concepts related to spirits we as magic practitioners have come to understand find their origins in the goetia.

I have proposed the term “geotia” (geo sha) to give a broader modern terminology to the idea of landscape magic. It takes the reverse of two vowels in goetia and alters its meaning to one more rooted in the land itself and less tied to a specific massive historic body of knowledge.

Geotia is the state of being within the land itself. The total perceptual elimination of the culturally perceived boundaries between oneself/ species and the natural world. The prerequisite state of the practice of folk witchcraft.

Thus the intersection of geotia and witchcraft is a shared understanding of the form that reality takes when stripped bare of our projected ideas of consensual (culturally acceptable) reality. When we embrace the seeking of that state of geotia we begin to see more widely the potential of energy that exists in the world around us. The folkwitch comes to work a specific patch of land, one that is tended to and looked after by the witch.

The landscape that you make your patch is populated by a wildlife beyond physical form. Not just in the echo of your ancestors, but beings who have lived as long as there have been homosapiens, often longer.

You bleed into the ground, it drinks of your essence and it knows you. You feel outward into the landscape. In some places on the earth it is calm, its hills and valleys having long settled with history. But in others it is marred with the darkness of bloodshed, disease and war. Haunted landscapes that linger still because we refuse to let them settle, they instill us with that dread of our species past.

The words of your ancestors echo down the dna line, reverberate in the sound chamber of the landscape. They teach you who you are and who you are meant to be. They guide you on your path, but like a willow-the- wisp there is no catching them, only a journey further and further into the endless forest of self discovery.

The witch is the link between the ostracized humanity of the late 21st century and the natural world. We are the walkers who can hear, perceiving the true structure of the world we inhabit, beyond the illusion society teaches is “real.” We have been to the other side of the hedge, and have ridden the night winds. We fear not death, and often flirt with its sweet caress. The witch is the guardian of the land, but what we guard it from is humanity.

Bibliography:

Guy Debord. Theory of the Dérive. Les Lèvres Nues #9. 1956.

Jake Stratton-Kent. Geosophia. Scarlet Imprint. 2013.

George Ewart Evans. The Pattern Under the Plow: Aspects of Folk-Life in East Anglia. Faber and Faber. 1966.

Katharine Briggs. Pale Hecate’s Team. Rutledge. 1962.

+++

This article originally appeared in FOLKWITCH vol 1, 2019.

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yandere-ac · 4 years

Text

Tom Nook X Reader

Fireworks

Alone.

10 pm on a Sunday and Tom was sitting alone in the residential services, typing away on his computer, trying to ignore all the sounds outside. The sounds of everyone running around, the sounds of people having fun, the sounds of fireworks going off. But most importantly, the sound of him. It’s been years and nothing has changed with him. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, trying to attract customers to his little raffle. Tom knee he was out there, that’s why he simply couldn’t go. The simple muffled sound of him shouting was enough to make his heart stop. “Come one! Come all! Step right up to redds raffle! For the small fee of 500 bells you’ll be guaranteed to win one of these fine prices! That’s right folks! You’ll never know what you’ll get but you are guaranteed to win!!!”

Huh. You’ll never know what you’ll get. Thats funny. That’s sort of how Redd and Toms relationship used to be. Tom however, did not get a guaranteed win. No, he got scammed out of 500 000 bells and was left in a ditch to rot away and die. He never thought Redd would be able to do something like that to him. Tom thought that he was different to Redd, that he actually cared for him. But Redd proved him wrong that night. He proved that Tom was no different than all the other fools that Redd tricked on a day to day basis. Because that’s what he was to Redd, he was just another one of his pawns in his big game of chess. He meant nothing to Redd and was easily disposable. And here he was, just outside his window, trying to make quick money off of his fellow islanders. And Tom was letting it happen. Because he was too much of a coward to go and do something.

Phyyyuuuuuuuu....

BOOM!!!

Another firework went off. Tom could see the ground light up from outside his window. Oh how he wished he could be outside. But he knew he wasn’t strong enough to face Redd. He never wanted to see him again, and he hadn’t planned on doing so. And he would do anything to avoid seeing his past partner.

Plingelingeling

The soft sound of the little bell that was attached to the door dragged Tom out of his thoughts. Someone had entered. And that someone was you. You were laughing and were holding a balloon. At least someone was having fun out there. You made eye contact with him and smiled, running up to him. You had a star bopper on, probably something that Isabelle gave to you. You looked very cute in it.

“Hi Tom!” You said as you sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Why hello hello Y/N! Having fun out there I hope?” He said, giving you a genuine smile. “Yeah! It’s been awesome! The fireworks are really pretty and we’ve all had very fun! The boys are really happy as well! They’ve been running around for hours now! It’s really cute!” You said, very enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. Tom has asked you to take the kids with you to the festival. They both had been cooped up in the store for too long and deserved a break. And there was no one he trusted more than you. “But....I think they would enjoy it more of you were out there with them...” oh boy. So you would pull this card huh. He let out a slight sigh. “Yes, I would also enjoy it...but I can’t Y/N...you know that...” as he said this he felt two soft hands grab his paws. “Is this about Redd?” You asked, and just hearing someone else say that bastards name made him tense up and made his eyes widen. “...I take that as a yes...come on Tom! Who cares what that guy thinks! He’s a sad man who’s only enjoyment in life comes from watching other suffer! He’s not worth your time!” Tom knew Redd wasn’t worth his time, yet it didn’t exactly make it any better. Just stating the obvious isn’t going to help his case.

“...I’m sorry...look, how about we go to a secluded spot, far away from the plaza. Do you think Redd will leave his precious money making station to go after you? Trust me, you need to get out of the residential services. You won’t have to see Redd okay? I promise!” Once you said this, you took one of your hands and cupped his cheek. Tom responded by closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. How bad could it be. If he would just ignore Redd and get away as soon as possible, things might work out. And so, he took one of his paws and pressed it on the hand that was cupping your cheek. “Alright then”

Walking out from the building, Tom and you were holding hands. Tom could see all of the islands inhabitants running around, clapping or cheering. Some were sitting on the ground, others were standing up. And he could see one islander sitting on another shoulders as they ran past him and Y/N. “Oh hello Mr Nook!” The one on top shouted as they passed the two. The loud announcement of the name made a certain fox turn his head to see if what he heard was really true. And once he made eye contact with Tom and gave him a wide smirk, Tom knew it was game over.

“Well well well. If it’s isn’t Tom Nook himself. I’ll be honest, I thought you died or something nookie, but here you are! Nice of you to visit your good ol pal Redd!” Toms ears fell done on his head. All of a sudden he could feel memories of Redd and him wash over him. But not the good memories, no, rather the memories he wished he could lock in a box and throw into the ocean. Redd walked closer to the two and Tom tried to regain his posture. “Hello Redd. How are you doing this evening?” Tom looked at the fox. He was wearing completely different clothes than his usual “only an apron” style. He hated to admit, but he like the foxes outfit. Should he say something? “You look nice. I like the new clothes.” Tom didnt want to give the fox any sort of encouragement In any way shape or form but he hoped that the compliment would at least soften Redd up in the slightest. He refused to look into the foxes eyes. “Pff, thanks! I wish I could say the same for you.” this made Tom freeze for a few seconds, that’s was, until he felt you squeeze his hand. Slowly stroking it with your thumb. Once he looked into your eyes and saw nothing but support, he felt better. “Uncle Tom!!!” The tension was interrupted by the sound of two younger voices accompanied by the small pit pats of four small paws running against the ground. Tom could see Timmy and Tommy running up towards him. Both of the boys jumped into his arms and he managed to catch both of them swiftly. He felt a pair of small arms wrap around his neck. Tommy was giving him a hug and Timmy was enthusiastically explaining what they had done this evening.

“It was so cool!!! You should have seen it! Y/N made custom fireworks with us! I made a dinosaur and Tommy made a jellyfish!!! And then- then Y/N made their custom firework look like me and Tommy!!! It was so pretty!!! And then aunt Isabelle gave us these boppers! Look, look!” The two brothers were indeed wearing two boppers. Timmy was wearing a flower bopper and Tommy was wearing a heart bopper. Tom chuckled slightly at their frenetic nature. It was obvious the two was running on sugar and adrenaline at the moment. He was certain that the two small tanookis were gonna have a tummy ache the next day. He could hear the faintest sounds of a little bell coming towards them. He turned to see that, yup, Isabelle was coming towards them all.

“Oh! Tom! Great to see you out here! I’ll be honest, I felt a little guilty leaving you alone while I got to be out here” Isabelle said, huffing slightly as she talked to him. “Oh yes. I finished all my paper work you see.” That was a lie, however, only three people knew it was a lie. “Oh yeah I’m sure you had so much paperwork huh?” Redd said, inserting himself into the conversation. This is when you started to lose patience. “Why don’t you shut your trap Redd!” Redd was a bit taken back by this. You always acted so quiet when you bought art of off him so to see you be so audible was strange to be sure. “Oh I’m sorry? Where you involved Y/N? What are you gonna?” Redd said, irritation plaiting his voice. “I would love to tell you what I would do but there are children present you selfish-“ “enough! Y/N, you said it yourself. He’s not worth it. Just let it go.” Tom told you, stroking your shoulder in an attempt at calming your nerves. You looked into his eyes, and in one fell swoop, you picked up the two brother that were now standing besides him. The two of them let out screams of delight and laughter as you started to run off. “Come on! Follow me!!!”

Isabelle and Tom were trailing behind you. How were you so fast when you were carrying TWO children!? Just like always. You never cease to amaze. You finally stopped at the highest hill on the island. There grew a single tree full of the islands native fruit. You put down Timmy and Tommy who were still giggling like crazy. You sat down besides the two boys and leaned up against the tree. Soon Tom and Isabelle caught up with you, both extremely out of breath once they got there. “What in the world was that for?” Isabelle asked as she looked at you. “I felt like we needed a change of scenery. Tom needs to see the fireworks! And I thought, what better place then the hill! And so, I grabbed the kids and ran here!” As you said this, you scooted over, patted the place next to you. Tom sat down next to you and Isabelle sat next to the boys. And for the first time, Tom could actually focus on the sky. It was beautiful. Absolutely stunning even! The sky was filled to the brim with colours after colours. Exploding like big balls of flames. It took his breath away. Even Isabelle seemed amazed. She had seen the fireworks sure, but from up here, they were even clearer! All five of them just watched the fireworks in silence for 15 minutes straight. It was only when the three adults heard a soft groan that they turned the attention away from the sky and to the small tanookies. Tommy was resting his head on Isabelle’s lap and Timmy was using Tommy as a pillow.

“Whoops. Looks like someone’s energies run out. Poor things, it’s way past their bed time. I’ll take them home.” Isabelle said, gently picking up the boys in her arms. She was about to leave when Tom stopped her. “Wait Isabelle. Before you leave... could I have one of those boppers?” He asked. It felt silly of him to ask but he thought they were pretty and wanted to participate. But Isabelle wasn’t a judgemental person, far from it. She simply giggled slightly and bowed her head before him. “Here, take mine.”

And so. Isabelle was off. She was off to put the kids to bed. That left Tom and you completely alone. Tom was readjusting his bopper and you were simply looking at him with a smile. “Hey look at that! We match!” You said, nudging his shoulder slightly. “Huh? Oh yeah! I guess we do ahhah...hey Y/N? I wanted to thank you. Thank you for fixing the Redd situation, thank you for taking care of the boys, just thank you for dragging me out here. And umm...” he took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. The tanooki placed a quick kiss on your cheek. It took you a second to realise what had just happened. But once you did, you smiled to yourself, grabbing his hand slightly.

“You’re welcome Tom.“ And so. The two of you continued to watch the fireworks, you leaned your head against his shoulder.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

So yeah...another out of the blue fic that I wasn’t planning on writing!!! But listen, @mrmr-uwu told me about this headcanon she had about how the reason Tom isn’t present at the festival is because he can’t be with Redd because it’s to painful for him. Like do you expect me to hear that and NOT write a 2000 word fic about it??? Don’t be ridiculous I don’t have that self control! But this was really fun. Like I’ve said before I will take ANY excuse to write for Tom Nook. I will now get back to your normal Yandere content

#acnh #animal crossing #animal crossing x reader #animal crossing new horizons #animal crossing new horizons x reader #ac x reader #acnh x reader #tom nook #tom nook x reader #isabelle ac #timmy and tommy #crazy redd #jolly redd #ac #tom nook is a dad #Y/N is the mom #sorry i dont make the rules #thanks mar

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keepmeinthedark · 3 years

Text

To The Top || A Marauders Band AU

Chapter One: The Night We Met

Read here on A03

Okay so before we begin please can you just state your name, age, and role?

Um, my name is Peter Pettigrew, I'm 78 years old and I was the lead singer of the Marauders.

Great, so Mr. Pettigrew where would you like to start?

Well, I guess we should start from the beginning, shouldn't we?

And when is that?

Whens the beginning? Well, that would be Christmas Eve 2017, that's the night when James met Lily.

"Honestly you could at least act like you want to be here," Petunia complained for the fifth time that night. Lily just rolled her eyes. She didn't want to be there. It was Christmas eve for goodness sake, she wanted to be at home in her pajamas watching Christmas movies with her parents and sister. She wanted to go to church (even though she had never been religious) and admire their set of the nativity before coming home and going to sleep to the sound of her parents trying to be as quiet as they could while dragging their presents down to the Christmas tree.

But instead, here she was, in a crowded pub surrounded by people she didn't know. Sure it'll look good on her Snapchat and maybe as the night goes on someone will do something stupid enough to give her a funny story to tell when she next sees her friends on boxing day (her bets was on the obviously drunk drummer of the band that was currently playing.) But until then she didn't want to be there and she certainly didn't want Petunia making her feel bad for it. Petunia only dragged her along because she has no friends of her own to take with her but despite what every sitcom tells you take it from Lily that a sister is not a "built-in best friend" a sister is just a sister, someone who you share parents with and have to live with until one of you moves out and that's it. At least for the Evans sisters that was it. Lily knew that not everyone hated their sibling and that in fact it wasn't supposed to be like that. She had grown up watching the Lupin brothers get along, they would play sports together, help one enough with their homework and protect each other with their lives. Watching them sometimes made Lily crave a sibling, completely forgetting that she had one of her own.

Maybe it's the age gap, Lily thought.

The band onstage had now started playing I wish it could be Christmas every day and the crowd was eating it up. There didn't seem to be one person in the pub who wasn't singing, lifting their glasses during the chorus, and wrapping their arm around whoever was closest. Lily liked this. From where she was stood at the bar she had a great view of everyone and was able to act like for a moment that she was a part of this moment like she wasn't just watching from the sidelines and was actually having a great time. That was until she had turned to her right and noticed that her sister had completely abandoned her at least.

"So much for sister bonding," she muttered, quickly downing the rest of her drink and squeezing her way through the crowd towards the beer garden.

As expected it was freezing outside, Lily was shivering and could see every breath she took, her hands already felt like they were going purple and her nose was so cold that it now started to hurt. But it was less noisy and easier to breathe outside. And besides, smoking wasn't allowed inside the pub.

After ten minutes, Lily started to regret her decision. she was only halfway through her cigarette, and her fingers felt like they were about to fall off. She was slightly jumping from the hells of her feet and wished dearly that she had wrapped up warmer than just a jumper and her coat.

Her only company was a group of men who were also smoking, they were paying her no mind but she couldn't help the feeling that they were judging her. Maybe they thought that she had been ditched by her friends, or was new in town and didn't yet have any friends. She wasn't sure which she would've preferred, to have shitty friends or no friends at all?

"'Scuse me?" a voice suddenly called out

Lily's head spun towards the source to see a boy, with brown skin, black messy hair, and square glasses making his way hesitantly towards her. "Hate to bother you but could I borrow a light?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, of course," Lily replied a little too quickly before pulling out her lighter and passing it to him. The boy nodded his head and lit his own cigarette.

"Thank you," he said politely and took a few puffs before talking again. "Having a nice night?" he asked.

Lily nodded her head and let out a little laugh, "Actually it's been a bit boring," she answered honestly. "Im here with my sister and she's sorta disappeared on me."

Bad. Bad. These are bad things to say to a stranger. Her mind screamed at her suddenly.

She quickly backtracked. "But I'm sure I'll find her... We have trackers on each other see and our parents are expecting us home," she rambled.

The boy just smiled and nodded along, when she had finished he set his beer down onto the table that was close by and took a seat still making sure that she knew she had his full attention. Lily took a few steps closer to him and put out her cigarette but she didn't sit down.

"Sounds rough," he replied. "I'm here with my mates, we just performed actually. I was the guitarist. I also sung"

Lily's eyes widened as if she was just realizing that she had been talking to an old friend all along, although really she didn't recognize him at all. "Oh yeah, I saw you inside you were great." she slightly lied. "So how long have you guys been together?" she asked, sitting down next to him.

The boy smiled, "Well we went to secondary school together and started playing there, at first it was just for a laugh but we've actually started to get into it and now we're hoping to somehow make a career out of it, and yeah it'll be hard we know that but were willing and surly that has to count for something."

"Well, no famous band today has ever gotten there by giving up have they?"

"Exactly! If we were to give up we would just be asking ourselves what if our entire life and that's not a life I want to live," he said, finishing off his drink and giving her a toothy grin. "I get scared though, believe me, I have no chance of doing this on my own and it worries me sometimes that the guys will back out. Frank doesn't really have the passion y'know? Like he likes it and you can tell but he isn't passionate about it and as for Sirius his family is a pain and hates the whole music business, they're trying to guilt-trip him. Y'know the whole "We didn't come all the way to London for you to become a rockstar" business. It's bullshit. He has a younger brother why don't they put all their eggs in his basket? That's why parents have more than one kid right? For when the first one turns out to be a disappointment you have a few more to fall back on?"

This made Lily laugh, "Well, as a younger sibling I can confirm that theory," she joked.

The boy laughed, "I wouldn't know, my parents didn't need a plan B they struck gold the first time." His words were now beginning to slur. It became quite clear to Lily that he probably wouldn't be saying these things if he wasn't under the influence.

"Well, at least you have a plan for what you want to do. I have no idea and my gap year has now turned into gap years and still no clue where I want to be a year from now. My parents don't care what I am so long as Im not working in McDonald's for the rest of my life."

"How's that going?'

"Terribly, cheers for asking. But at least Im getting money, it could be worse."

The boy nodded, "Could be a lot worse," he agreed. "You could be dead."

It took everything Lily had to stop her from replying with I wish.

They were silent for a while, the only sound that could be heard was the racket coming from inside as the cold how now even become too much for the group of men that were out earlier. The conversation seemed to have come to a close. Lily didn't want it to.

"So where are your friends now?" she asked.

The boy looked behind him, towards the door leading to the bar, and then back at her before simply shrugging. "God knows. Maybe one of them is hooking up with your sister right now."

Lily laughed and lightly punched his arm, "Don't be so rude!" she exclaimed. The boy laughed and nudged her with his shoulder, "Im only giving suggestions. Perhaps we should get searching for them, it is really cold out here and I've got to make sure that they don't get into too much trouble."

Lily didn't really want to leave, but now that he had mentioned it the cold was coming back to being a problem and she couldn't expect him to stay out in it just for her pure entertainment while his friends could be missing for all they knew, so she nodded and stood up.

"I'm Lily, by the way," she smiled and stretched out her hand. "Lily Evans."

The boy curled his lip and took her hand, kissed her knuckle, and shook it. "Pleasure to meet you, Lily Evans. I'm James Potter."

#the marauders #the marauders era #marauders fanfiction #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #jily #jily fanfiction #dorlene #dorlene fanfiction #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Peter Pettigrew #Lily Evans #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #emmeline vance #mary macdonald

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seeds-and-sins · 4 years

Text

Something Special

Pairing: Vaas Montenegro / Reader

Rating: T (Strong language, violence)

Description: You find out Vaas is actually a pirate lord, he makes a deal with you in promising to keep your friends alive and safe...

You didn't know what it was about him. There was something off, but you just couldn't put your finger on it. It wasn't the scar that spanned the side of his head, nor the unruly Mohawk, or the blank stares. No. It couldn't have been the dirty wraps around his fingers, or the way he spoke, or the rough pads of his thumbs. No, not any of those things. It must had been something though, as your friends pulled you around the island, the strange tour guide in tow. It must had been something. Even your friends knew it, before arriving on the island, Tony warned that the guide was a bit rough around the edges, that we should all keep our distance. No. You couldn't keep your distance from this particular stranger, no indeed.

While the others all had their bathroom breaks, you held your bladder for the sake of being alone with said person. He considered you with that same fixed stare, something akin to a pout sitting on his lips, arms crossed. You crossed your own arms, mocking him to some extent. It was a silent exchange. You smirked at him, then came closer, even as he shifted his back towards you. You slid around, closer even, knowing that if your friends were nearby they would certainly disapprove. You stared, gazed, narrowed your eyes every now and again, focused on his features. When you came close enough his eyes widened at the proximity, and his lips parted as if to say something. Hand snatching your own with snake like speed, just as your fingers tenderly caressed over his scar.

"You're playing with fire, hermana." His grip was tight, but not painfully so. His voice didn't quite reach the way his eyes analyzed you with curiosity, no intent to follow through with his indirect threat.

"How did you get it?" You asked, and he released your wrist, turning his back to you again. You were surprised he would turn his back to anyone, but you figured he had deduced long before that you were no threat.

"That's none of your business."

"Oh," You shrugged, then nudged your hip into his, he grunted in annoyance and sidestepped away. "Just curious."

"Curiosity can be dangerous, ya'know."

"Only to someone who is afraid of death." His hazel eyes followed you again, before shaking his head and finding anything else but you to busy himself. "Hey, I'm sorry, you just seem pretty cool."

"Pretty cool?" He cocked his head at you, biting his bottom lip in frustration, his fists fell to his sides and he stomped that extra space between you both. Then his face was an inch from yours, a snarl on him, rage in his every huff of a breath.

"Do you even fucking know who I am?" You remained calm, hoping he was all bark and not all bite. "Do you?" He spat.

"Not really," You forced a smile, that was somewhat genuine, but his negative energy was only making you more nervous. "But I would like to..." You cleared your throat, the tip of your bare foot tenderly circling in the wet soil of the jungle floor. "Know who you are." His expression softened, not without the slightest bit of confusion crossing his features. His lips then twitched into a grin of some kind, before he distanced himself from you again, finding a tree to lean back against.

"Oh, hermana, you wouldn't want to know."

"It can't be that bad, what's your name?"

"It doesn't matter." You washed a palm over your lips in deep thought and then finally came to a conclusion.

"If I tell you stuff about me, maybe you can tell me stuff about you." He rolled his eyes, and sighed.

"Why the fuck do you want to know about me? Huh?"

"Well, you're our guide, and um," You didn't want him to know that you thought he was attractive, even the slightest bit exotic and alluring. The tattoos that ran over the taut muscles of his biceps, the baggy sides of his tank top straps, exposing the edges of his toned pectorals, dark chest hairs bordering the neckline of the red, and thick thighs underneath the camo green cargos. "Like I said, I think you are cool."

"You don't know anything about me, how can you say that?"

"Earlier, I saw you tying up some knots on our boat, you know your stuff..." You then pondered another time where the man practically fascinated you. "Then you made that fire for us last night, it took you less than thirty minutes with hardly anything but some sticks and moss. That's not easy." You stepped closer, only for him to flinch slightly at the movement. "And I have to admit, when we climbed the summit you were absolutely ripped. You were ahead of us the whole time." Vaas couldn't hide his amusement, he snorted and shook his head.

"You've been watching me quite a bit then, hermana." He stated, gave you a once over and then stepped towards you, those lengthy arms swinging at his sides. He placed them on his hips when he was close enough to grab you, the very thought excited you. "My name is Vaas."

"Vaas," You nodded, muttering the name under your breath in admiration, you couldn't deny the blush that soon dusted your cheeks. "Thank you for telling me." He licked his lips, and this mischievous nature came about him.

"Just being polite is all, hermosa, who wouldn't want to put a name to the person they are crushing on?" Your jaw dropped and you sputtered out some pathetic response.

"B-But-I-I-" The bushes beside you shoveled and Hunter was leading a trail of your friends back towards you.

"Hey guys, we going to keep going? Or what?" Oh shit! You forgot you really had to pee.

Later that day, the lot of you found yourselves at a waterfall, with a small pond beneath it. And of course, all of your friends wanted to go for a swim. You changed out into your bathing suit, after finding a large rock to change behind with the others. You couldn't explain how excited you were to finally get into some cool water, it was sweltering hot that day on the island. You sprinted to the edge of a smaller cliff that hovered over the lake, and just as you were about to follow the others into the waters below, you paused. You carried your feet up to Vaas, who was leaning against a tree, a cigarette hanging from his lips. His eyes openly eyeing your body again, except this time all too freely.

"Come swim with us." You urged, a hint of laughter bubbling up in your throat. He dragged from the cigarette, slotting it between his fingers and exhaling the smoke as he freed his lips.

"I don't know if your friends would like that so much, sol." You smiled and reached out, grabbing his free hand.

"Come on, I would like it if you did, who cares what they think?" He dropped his head for a moment, then his fingers came to life in your own, tenderly wrapping around yours. He smirked up at you, teeth bright and white, much to your surprise. Especially considering that most of the natives you had crossed paths with so far, didn't seem to have good dental hygiene. He tossed his cigarette at the ground and stepped on it.

"What's your name, chica?"

"(Y/N), why?" You snorted and he released your hand to pull his shirt over his head, revealing the sheets of abs sitting on his toned stomach. His eyes met yours, now hunched over to untie his boots, still holding your gaze.

"So, I can put a name to the person I am crushing on." You smiled so wide, the muscles in your face stung just a little bit, blush creeping up your neck. The blush only reddened further to a point that it was greatly noticed under the shade of the tree, when he unbuckled his pants, a pair of boxers sitting underneath. He stood and closed your jaw shut teasingly, drawing your attention back to his face. "You think this is bad? You're lucky I decided to wear underwear today." He joked, but you weren't sure if he was really joking. Together, the two of you ran, and jumped off the small rock into the waters below.

That night you sat beside Vaas by the fire, much to the distaste of your peers, but you liked Vaas's company more than you could explain. There was definitely something about him, without question, something special, you thought. He pointed out the stars to you in his native tongue, as the both of you strayed from the group along the beach. Your bare feet shuffling in the sand along his bigger boot prints, your hand wrapped around his forearm. You were slightly drunk, but that didn't make his words any less clearer or fascinating. You gripped onto his muscles, grasping more for his touch and warmth as the chilly winds blew through from the shore.

"And that, that one right there, do you see?" In your drunken haze, you thought that standing up on your tip toes would make you see the tiny glowing dot better. Instead, you fell forward into Vaas's arms, he took advantage, nudging his nose against your temple. "I might just name that one after you? Huh?" You laughed, and wrapped your arms under his armpits, nose sniffing at the red tank. It smelled, oddly, of a mix between copper and earth and sweat.

"Can you do that? Name a star after me?" You finally found balance as your hands propped themselves on the creases of Vaas's arms, meeting his steely gaze.

"I can do whatever the fuck I want on my island."

"Your island? Really?" You poked at his chest, feeling his pec tense under the jabbing of your pointer finger. "You are the king here, then?" You were simply playing along, figuring this was just some fantasy world that Vaas had created for himself, that he was introducing you to.

"I am, you think I am joking?" His expression turned stern and serious, eyebrow raised slightly, and his fingers came up to caress your cheek.

"I don't know..." You smiled like a fool, "But if you aren't I am glad you trust my friends and I enough to share it with us." You stumbled back, and twirled around, the wind pushing against your clothes, the stars suiting your natural glow. "Your beautiful, fantastic island." You fell back, giggling over the sound of the thrashing waves and roaring winds. He came up beside you, staring down at you, in this darkness, at this distance, his face was unreadable. He then crouched down beside you, and laid down, arm propping up his head as he gazed down at you.

"And tomorrow you will leave my island?" You turned over, the both of you on your sides, facing one another. You grabbed the green gem of his necklace, fiddled with it as you shyly made eye contact with him.

"I will," You sighed. "But can I tell you a secret?" You closed the short space between your lips, and Vaas reeled back in shock for a moment as you sought his kiss. When you drew away, nervous to see his reaction, you found he was in awe. "I don't want to though." He cupped your cheek, and scooted closer, sand bunching up between your bodies. He tilted his forehead down to press to your own and he smiled. "I wish I could stay here forever." Vaas snorted, fingers trailing down to just under your chin, where he gripped it gently and brought your lips up to meet his.

"Be careful what you wish for, mi sol. You might not like what you recieve." That next day you woke up to a thundering headache and an empty indent in the sand beside you. The sounds of the waves had almost lulled you back into bliss, if it hadn't been for the sounds of screams and shouts in the distance. Your eyes fluttered open and you sat up, the blurry vision subsided to reveal seven specks of black along the white sand, where your friends had set up camp the night before. You immediately jumped to your feet, sprinting as fast as you can, despite the hungover nausea that took you. When you approached, you could finally see your four friends being held at gunpoint, and three men dressed in red, one of them Vaas.

"(Y/N)! Run!" Hunter shouted, protecting Brittany as she clutched behind him. “Get HELP!!! GO!” You ignored them and went straight to Vaas, one of the men almost grabbing you if Vaas hadn't gotten to you first. He pulled you to the side, over the screams and cries of your friends, past the demands of the two gun totting men.

"Vaas, what's going on?! What are you doing?!" You breathed out shakily, adrenaline running through you. He cupped your cheeks and sent you an eerie smile.

"Oh sweet hermosa, I am a pirate lord. This is what I do. I pull stupid Americans onto this island, like your friends, and I ransom them and sell them. It's that simple." He chuckled, turning to get back to what he was doing, as if you weren't with them, as if you had come to the island of your own volition, like you were a separate entity. You gripped his hand and yanked him back to face you, albeit with some struggle.

"But you won't with them, right? You won't." Tears of panic started to slide down your cheeks, uncontrollable, Vaas returned to you, still smirking. His thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks, and his smile fell dramatically into a serious glare.

"It's okay, Hermosa. You're safe with me. I am granting you your wish." And he turned away, like you weren't clinging to him like he was your last breath.

"Stop! Wait!" You could see he was getting agitated as he swung back to face you, gripping your shoulders in a vice grip.

"What is it?! What the fuck?!"

"If you do this, I won't forgive you." You said, with more courage than you thought you could muster, with such fierce stubborn determination that you thought Vaas would kill you. He was silent, lips shut tight as he considered whether you were being truthful or not. The sounds of your friends screams intensified and you glanced over to find that one of the men had thrown Ellie to the ground on her face. "Please." Your voice cracked as you begged, lowering your head and closing your eyes in some odd form of prayer, "Please, with all my heart. I won't ever say no, I won't ever reject you, I won't ever leave you, just please." The words came out so naturally, but with such frantic abandon. His silence was borderline deadly, until his grip on your shoulders slackened.

"I won't let them go. They know too much." He said plainly, his hand gripped your chin, raising your eyes to level with his own, yet again.

"WE WON'T SAY ANYTHING!!!" One of them screamed, as those light hazel eyes pierced your soul.

"If you swear to me these things, I will keep them safe and maybe..." You felt relief come over you, because you would gladly do anything for your friends, even swear on the things you told Vaas. "Maybe..." He emphasized, with a strict finger now tapping your nose in playful jest. "We can work something out to set them free." You nodded your head, jumped up into his arms, wrapping them around his neck.

"I swear," You whispered in his ear. "I swear on my star."

Return to Prompts

#vaas montenegro #soft #reader #vaas montenegro x reader #farcry 3 #Imagines #prompts list

152 notes · View notes

dayseternal-blog · 3 years

Note

i think im running out of naruhina fluff/smut. T-T. Can you help me out? hihi

🔍

you think you can hide behind anonymous 🧐 I’m quite certain I know who this is haha 😘

And for you, dearest anon, have three completely unfinished, barely started wips (EVIL CACKLES BECAUSE THESE GO NOWHERE)

But actually, if any of these one-shot ideas catch your interest, please let me know and maybe I’ll actually try to finish one of them?

Smutty Soulmate AU, where you meet your soulmate in your dreams each night upon turning 20.

When her alarm jars her from sleep, she’s always only left with a feeling and flashes of color. Today...she desperately tries to focus, to reach back, to remember…

Excitement. Red. Dark.

Her heart beats faster for reasons unknown to her, and there’s no point in trying any harder to slide the experiences of the soul into her brain. After pointless meditation sessions, longer naps, and all manners of effort with dream diaries and online tips, she’s been resigned to the fact that only her other half can unlock that translation of dreams to memories. She has yet to meet her soulmate in person.

Ever since her 20th birthday a few months ago, since that nerve wracking night of meeting her soulmate for the first time, going out has been a secret manhunt. Eyes peeled to every single passersby over the age of 20. Any one of them could be the person she’s spent the last 200 or so nights with.

So she dresses carefully for a day out with Sakura, Tenten, and Ino. They’ll be going to the restaurant where Sakura’s fiance works his part-time job. For all she knows, her soulmate might be there, too.

A guy? A girl? Her age? Much older? She has no idea what she’ll say to her soulmate, either. But she imagines that when she sees them, it’ll be like a homecoming. Planning is unnecessary, right? When it’s someone you actually see every night? If they didn’t like her, she can’t imagine why she would wake up every morning with so much residual happiness and longing.

-------------------------------------THAT’S IT @bunny-hoodlum

Ghost-Hunting (Obake Hunt) Comedy Modern AU, Naruto & co. visit a college at night for some scares that take an unexpected turn...

A shadowed driveway leads up the mountain toward the private college.

“Is this it?” Sasuke asks, peering out the car window.

“Yeah, turn here,” Ino instructs.

“Okay, but why is the place even open at this time of night,” Sakura states, arms crossed with a skeptical expression as Sasuke drives the minivan through the gates, up the grand driveway. The dorms for the college were built at a separate location down the main thoroughfare.

Ino shrugs. “They have all kinds of events that go on at night. I don’t know.”

“At least we know we’re not trespassing if the school’s open.” Hinata’s soft voice comes over the back seat.

“I still can’t believe we actually talked you into coming with us!” Ino teases.

Sakura laughs, “We’re having a bad influence on her!”

Hinata shakes her head. “Actually, I’m amazed that Naruto-kun is here,” she shyly replies.

Sasuke lets out a quiet laugh. “Doesn’t mean he won’t shit himself if we find a ghost.”

“Okay!, no!, I won’t shit myself, alright?” he immediately defends. “...I might just scream a little, but I won’t poop my pants…” He’s already in a protective stance, arms crossed, back hunched a little.

Everyone laughs at him, but Hinata takes his hand, smiling half-amusedly, half to comfort him. “I’ll protect you, Naruto-kun.”

That only makes everyone laugh harder as Naruto sinks into himself in embarrassment.

Despite Ino’s school being open, the parking lot is somewhat empty save for a few cars. The buildings are magnificent in design, echoing back to an era when arched entryways and stucco were favored over walls of glass. The hum of cicadas pierce through the still, late summer air.

The small group of friends silently follow Ino back toward the driveway of the school with only yellowed street lamps lighting the dark sidewalks. They cross into the street, stopping right in the middle at the fancy traffic meridian. It’s an odd decorative aspect of the driveway they passed on the way up. It’s right in the middle of the street, separating the in and out lanes, somewhat built-up and rounded with a grassy patch and flowering bushes planted high on top. It really only serves to make the school look expensive.

Ino smiles, then whispers, “Put your hand here on the wall.”

“Why?” Sakura asks, also in a whisper.

“Just feel it.”

They do, all of them placing their hands on the wall, waiting for something to happen.

“You see how the plaster is kind of rough over there?” she asks.

They nod, their fingers dragging over the rushed job.

“...This is an ancient burial ground,” Ino explains in a hushed tone.

Their hands spring off of the wall, their fingers wide in stress at what they were just touching.

“Ino, what the fuck?!” Naruto hisses, barely containing his volume, his legs already carrying him away from the meridian and onto the side of the street.

Sakura stares at her hand wide-eyed. “Oh my gosh, we’re all cursed,” she laments. She can practically feel the spiritual energy twisting around her fingers.

Ino snickers. “That’s what my course major senpais did to me.”

Sasuke and Hinata are silently trailing after Naruto with abject horror on their faces. Hinata fists her hand uncomfortably against her skirt.

Once they’re all gathered safely away from the meridian, Ino continues to explain. “When they were constructing, they found the remains of the ancient natives.”

“So they just built that random thing in the middle of the street to house the bones and then continued on their merry way?” Naruto asks for clarification.

Ino nods. “After they found them, they built that wall around the burial ground, and apparently they were in a hurry to cover it back up. They just made the driveway go around it.”

They stand there, staring at the burial ground, picturing the bones just on the other side of the wall they touched, below the grass and bushes.

“Did you have to make us touch it, though,” Hinata asks, regretfully, with a really sad frown.

“The spirits of the ancient warriors are going to find me and kill me in the dead of the night,” Naruto states, as if it’s already fact.

Ino brushes his paranoia off. “We’ll, I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Note to all of us--don’t do anything Ino tells us to do,” Sasuke says.

Ino gives him a very evil smile. “That’s not all there is to this place.”

“Why...why am I doing this…” Naruto asks to no one in particular.

She leads them deeper into the center of the school, where a large tree spreads its thick limbs over a beautiful cobbled courtyard. A simple fountain beneath the tree spouts water, and pennies shine beneath the surface of the circular pool. The gurgle of the water as it falls is relaxing, serene in the quiet of the night.

“Wow, this is nice,” Sakura says, looking around at the manicured gardens surrounding the courtyard.

Ino nods. “A girl hung herself here.”

They turn their attention to the blonde. Suddenly, the peace of the courtyard feels like an ill omen.

She tilts her head at the large tree. “They say that when this used to be a mental hospital, a girl got away from her caretakers. She was found hanging from this tree.”

They frown at the branches, wondering which one the girl chose.

Ino gestures to steps that lead to an academic building. “They said that at night, you could see her ghost walking and talking to herself in the corridors, always bringing herself to this tree. Someone suggested to the school that they build this fountain here to give rest to her spirit.”

“So no one sees her ghost anymore?” Sakura asks.

Ino shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out…”

“What?” Naruto scrunches a face of distaste.

“Let’s go,” Ino invites.

“Go where…” he whines quietly.

Ino takes the disturbed group down the steps to the building. “Hm, I wonder if it’s open…” She pulls the handle.

The door opens.

“Whyyyy is it open…” Naruto groans.

“But actually, though, why,” Sakura states.

“Maybe the teachers are still here?” Hinata suggests.

Ino laughs. “Psh, what college professor cares that much about their job?” She holds the door open, inviting them into the building. “Welcome to the language arts hall.”

The corridor lights are all on, assuring them that the building is, indeed, open.

They enter the hallway. Naruto lags behind. When the door shuts, he opens it again. “I’m just making sure…” He tests the handle a couple more times before closing it. Then he tests it once more for good measure.

“You satisfied?” Sasuke asks.

“I’m just making sure,” he repeats.

Hinata frowns, imagining the door locking them in while they’re inside the building.

Naruto’s paranoia is only making things worse.

Ino starts ahead of them, and Naruto has to rush to catch up. “Wait for me!”

“SHHHH!!” Sakura scolds, finger to her lips.

They stand there, noticing how her shush seems to echo in the hallway.

“This place is really creepy,” Hinata comments quietly.

Ino shrugs. “Only at night. I had classes in this building in my first year.”

“So this place used to be part of the mental hospital?” Sasuke asks.

“Yeah,” Ino affirms. She brings them to a classroom. “You see how there’s this little window that you can use to look inside?”

They nod, taking turns peeking into one of the dark classrooms. It’s a normal room with normal desks.

“All of the rooms have this hallway window, you see? It was so that the nurses could check on the patients.”

“Oh gods,” Naruto mutters.

-------------------------------------THAT’S IT

College Ballet AU, Naruto sees a different side of his quietly reserved friend.

It wasn’t a trick.

Winter had dragged its sharp claws across the ground as long as it could, but finally, finally, three seasonal false-starts and numerous wilted, early-blooming daffodils later,

Spring had finally decided to stay for good.

Trees bloomed pastel pinks instead of icy white. New hopefuls popped out of the wet dirt, ready to face the sun. Birds were suddenly a real thing again.

Students strolled across the college campus in shorts and light sweaters, eager to shed the winter coats they had worn for six straight months.

And most importantly…

“The forecast is in the high 50s all week!” Ino announced as she pranced into the room, swinging her dance bag to the floor.

“Oh!! Remember last spring we had class outside?” Sakura asked, turning her attention to their ballet instructor.

“Can we have class outside, Kurenai?” Ino pleaded, eyes wide in hope.

“Hm, the weather is nice today. I suppose it is a shame to stay indoors on an afternoon like this,” she considered aloud.

Hinata listened with alarm. She had never danced outside before, never in her 14 years of dancing. Yes, she had danced on stage before, had performed in front of many strangers before, but still... Everyone will see us, she worried.

“I didn’t bring my speakers today, though,” Kurenai continued.

Before Hinata could feel any relief, Tenten pulled out her tech from her bag. “You can bluetooth your phone to mine!”

“Awesome, Tenten!” Sakura exclaimed.

“Oh, please, Kurenai? Can we have class outside?” the other girls begged.

Hinata already knew her fate. She was going to have to wear her body-conforming leotard and tights in front of the entire student body. Nevermind the fact that the last time she had gone barefoot on grass was in elementary school.

They all picked up their belongings and made the quick trip to the center lawn.

As she predicted, many students who were already finished with their classes for the day were enjoying the afternoon weather, laying out in the grass reading or playing frisbee.

And here they were, in their leotards and tights, about to have their whole ballet practice for all to see.

“There’s so many people,” she whispered in embarrassment to Sakura.

The pinkette looked at Hinata in confusion, then sympathy. “Don’t worry. Just relax and enjoy the sunshine! It’s a lot of fun to dance outside. It feels like…” Sakura glanced up in thought. “...Like freedom. Or like...nature!”

Hinata took a deep breath and nodded. She slipped off her sandals and lined up with everyone to begin their barre exercises...without a barre. She spread her toes open to first position and settled her arms and hands into en bas.

Already she could see curious onlookers watching them, and she could only thank the god above that they were having class in a corner of the field, and not front and center.

Kurenai glanced over her dancers, noting their prepared positions. She rattled off the instructions for their plie routine before setting up the speaker and scrolling through her phone’s music menu.

Familiar piano music rose into the air.

More students glanced around.

Hinata tried not to think that all of their eyes were on her. Because she knew, logically, that they weren’t all watching only her, but her heart just hadn’t been prepared for this sudden public display.

Eventually, with the right side completed and the combination repeated on the left side, Hinata began to feel less tense.

The students lazing on the lawn returned to their own devices, and only passersby watched as they headed to their destinations.

She fell into the muscle memory of the exercises, and her focus turned inward on the flow of her arms with the music, of the dart of her toes with the beat, and the alignment of her body.

It was like Sakura said. There was a certain freedom she had never felt before in dancing barefoot in the grass under the Spring sun, turning, leaping, and reaching into the fresh air.

#anon #wips #naruhina fanfiction #witness how quickly i lose interest

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kuramirocket · 3 years

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MEXICALI, Mexico — Lucía Laguna carries her fate tattooed on her face — from the corner of her mouth to her chin, black lines surf across her coppery skin — the tribal art honoring her people will also serve an important function later on.

“After my death, it will be guide me to my ancestors. With the tattoo, they will recognize me and can take me where they are," she said, as she talks on the banks of the Colorado River.

But under the merciless sun, Laguna, 51, worries about the fate of the river and its impact on the Cucapá, her Indigenous people. A searing drought is exacerbating the deadly heat in a region that long ago saw its river flow diminished, after almost a century of U.S. engineering projects.

"Cucapá means people from the river, that's why we are fighting for it," she said, pointing to a decrease in the river's flow she is seeing every year. “We cling to the river and fight because it gives us water so that the fish can arrive and we can earn our livelihood. But it is a fight that seems that we will never win," she said, disheartened.

Mexico is experiencing the worst drought in three decades. NASA images from the recently released Landsat 8 satellite showed the extremely low levels of the Villa Victoria dam, one of the capital's main water reservoirs.

According to meteorologists, three quarters of the country suffers from drought; in 16 of the 32 states, it affects their entire territory. Thus, 60 large reservoirs, especially in the north and the center, are below 25 percent of capacity.

"Over the past 70 years, the temperature in Mexico has a clear and conclusive increasing trend. In the last decade, it increased very rapidly and that rise is even higher than the average for the planet," Jorge Zavala Hidalgo, general coordinator of the National Meteorological Service, said.

Rainfall has always fluctuated, he explained, but now the rain is concentrated in fewer days. "And that is bad because we all want it to rain — but nobody wants it to flood, especially the farmers, because that destroys the crops. That is why we are studying everything that is happening."

The increase in temperature especially affects the forests, which go from being a paradise of greenery to time bombs for fire risks. As of May 5, 562 forest fires had been registered, 27 percent more than in 2020. And the burned area grew 69 percent, reaching almost 900,000 acres.

"There is more drought and therefore the vegetation is waiting for someone to arrive, light a leaf and from there, the fire begins," said César Robles, deputy manager of the Fire Management Center of Mexico's National Forestry Commission. "The area affected by fires is directly correlated with the increase in temperature and the decrease in rainfall."

An area resident, Imelda Guerra Hurtado, 43, pointed to the barren lands of El Zanjón, an arid, semi-desert enclave that reaches the banks of the Colorado River delta.

She remembers her grandparents taking her fishing — and points to areas that used to have water.

"Sometimes we feel that we are dying of thirst. Although many deny it, the climate has changed," she said. "We have always lived off the fish in the river, since I can remember. Now we can only fish once a year and it is our main livelihood."

U.S. engineering and their consequences

The Cucapá are one of the five native tribes of Baja California, and they descend from the Yuman people. According to official data, there are now only between 350 and 400 members of the Cucapá people but, in the 19th century, Western colonizers documented between 5,000 and 6,000 nomads who organized into clans.

"You have to understand that these Indigenous people see the entire region, both the part of Mexico and the United States, as their territory. In their traditions, it is remembered that they received a lot of water and, little by little, they were running out of that flow," said Osvel Hinojosa-Huerta, director of the Coastal Solutions Program at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology.

The history of the Colorado River, and the problems it suffers today, is an ode to progress and engineering that tried to tame nature. It is the most important water system in northwestern Mexico. It is essential for farming in a semi-desert region.

In the 19th century, the river reached Mexico with a wild power of about 42,000 cubic feet per second. At the beginning of the 20th century, however, the United States began struggling to convert the arid regions of the Southwest to arable land, thus undertaking engineering works to divert water to the Imperial Valley of California.

"From 1922, everything started badly," Hinojosa-Huerta said. The United States did a study to divide the water from the Colorado River and, coincidentally, it was the 10 wettest years in the basin." Thus, a distribution was made on paper that included more water (16 percent) than there actually is. And then the reservoirs began to be built.

Treaties, dams — and then climate change

In 1936, the Hoover Dam was inaugurated, between Nevada and Arizona, which lowered the flow to 164 cubic meters per second for Mexico. In 1944, a bilateral treaty was signed that guaranteed Mexico about 1.8 million cubic meters of water per year, but most of it goes to agriculture.

The agreement did not consider the rights of the Cucapá people and their ancestral relationship with the river. But it affected their traditional ceremonies, causing a shortage of fruits and grains, and the trees and shrubs used to make houses, boats and clothing. "Nobody asked us anything," Guerra said.

In 1966, the Glen Canyon Dam in Arizona was erected, and the river's flow decreased to 8 cubic meters per second. But what no one seemed to count on, between treaties and dams, was climate change.

"In Mexicali, it has never rained," Hinojosa-Huerta said, "the flow that reaches the region and that supports agriculture comes from snowfall 2,600 kilometers [1,600 miles] in the Rockies."

It all depends on precipitation in Wyoming and Colorado, but since 2002 snowfall has been below average, depleting the river and resulting in a "desolating panorama," he said.

Years of warmer temperatures, a failed rainy season last summer and low snow cover have combined to cause Mexico's Baja California rivers to decline.

Hell on Earth

But heat also kills. In 2019 there were at least eight deaths in Mexicali associated with high temperatures; in 2020, they were 83.

"People cannot live with those temperatures, that is, people die", Zavala said, "although they are used to the heat, even small increases break the threshold for the human body to survive."

On Aug. 14, 2020, Mexicali registered 122 degrees Fahrenheit, breaking the record of 121 that dated from August 1981.

Froilán Meza Rivera, a veteran journalist and writer from northern Mexico, consulted the archives of the Secretariat of Hydraulic Resources. It appears that in July 1966, in Riíto, a Mexicali community, a thermometer reached an unprecedented figure of 140 degrees Fahrenheit. And that was its limit: the mercury rose to the top and could not measure any more.

It would be the highest figure in the world: according to the World Meteorological Organization, the highest recorded temperature is 134 degrees Fahrenheit on July 10, 1913, in California's Death Valley.

The region is exposed to the worst possible scenarios in terms of a climate emergency, according to Roberto Sánchez Rodríguez, an academic from the Colegio de la Frontera Norte. "Governments have mismanaged resources, and that is why there is less water available," he said.

Fishing

Since 1993, the fishing territory of the Cucapá has been included in the Upper Gulf of California and the Colorado River Delta Biosphere Reserve, which has a surface area of 2.3 million acres. This protected area was created to preserve the flora and fauna, such as the vaquita porpoises and the totoaba, which are at the brink of extinction.

"We abide by the rules, we know that species have to be protected because we are an Indigenous people, we use the nets and equipment that the government asks of us and we do not go out when it's not our turn," said Rubén Flores, captain of a panga, a boat used for traditional fishing.

An earthquake in 2010 also affected fishing. "It left us huge cracks that got bigger, and that doesn't allow us to fish like before," said Hilda Hurtado Valenzuela, 68, president of the Sociedad Cooperativa Pueblo Indígena Cucapá, one of the associations that groups together the people who are still fishing.

Sitting on a plastic chair near the patio of her home in El Indiviso, a semi-desert piece of land, she said she likes to get away from the sun. For a long time, she has not seen the sun as a source of life but as a tough enemy who takes out her tribe, destroys the river and forces them to forces them to do their chores and work at night during the harshest moments of summer.

"Unbearable"

"The heat here is unbearable, we have never experienced this. There are even people living on the streets who die because they cannot stand the temperatures," Valenzuela said. "And it also affects the animals because less water arrives from the river and the fish breed with the mixture of fresh water and salt, so there are fewer and fewer fish."

The townspeople insist that they do not fish the totoaba, whose swim bladder is considered a delicacy in the Asian market for its supposed medicinal and aphrodisiac properties (when it reaches China it costs $55,000 or $60,000).

But the intense demand leads to fishing with professional nets, thus also trapping the vaquitas and leaving them on the brink of extinction.

Various environmental and journalistic investigations have pointed to the Dragon Cartel, a criminal network with Mexican, American, Chinese and other intermediaries who conspire to exploit and fish the totoaba in that region.

Flores said that just by looking at the sky, he knows what the weather will be like. That's why he shakes his head disapprovingly every time he sees the relentless sun.

"Something strange is happening here. It is as if the sun lasts longer, so the fish do not like that heat. They are born less and weigh less." It used to take them two days to fish for curvina, now it takes them a whole week, he said, looking at the river.

The intense drought also has affected the fish's reproduction, so they must go further and further out, with poorly prepared boats, with small engines and without much fuel.

"We comply with everything, but the people of the surrounding towns also fish and don't (comply) —and many times we're punished for that, said Paco, a veteran fisherman with more than 25 years of experience.

"And we must also be careful because the narco is there, they follow our routes through the area and they fish in order to hide tons of drugs underneath. We tell the police, but nobody does anything," said Paco, whose last name is being withheld for fear of retaliation.

"I want the river to stay"

Lucia Laguna considers herself a guardian of the Cucapá, keeping alive their language, customs and traditional clothing to preserve them. Her memory is one of the most important reservoirs of the Cucapá past.

Kneeling on the banks of the Colorado River, she touches the dark water with special devotion while reciting an ancient song. Two little girls are with her.

"My tata [grandfather] fishes because without that we cannot eat. I too would like to be a fisherman, because I really like the river and being here," Marleny Sáenz, 10, said.

"I want the river to stay, to have our traditions," she said. "I like to sing because it is part of me, I feel very proud to be part of this town."

It is a ritual that they used to celebrate on the banks of the river. From time immemorial they burned the cachanilla, a wild plant with a fresh aroma, while chanting their songs so that the fishermen would be lucky in their long expeditions at sea.

"It is about opening paths, so that everything goes well," Laguna said.

"We are paying the consequences of the pollution of other people. The people of the cities have to understand that we are affected by what they do. They do not live alone in the world," she said sadly, touching the water and singing to the river.

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