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celtic-crossbow · 9 months

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I’m Your Fatal Sin

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: Daryl doesn’t like you going outside the safety of the prison.

Prompt: “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.” (Had to write in Daryl speak but it’s the same thing!)

A/N: Second request by @alldevilsarehere90. I took so long writing the first one that I did the second they asked for…and took equally as long. Apparently, “drabble” is not a word I’m familiar with and I should just call these novels. The prompt is waaaay up in the beginning but I just kept going. Sorry again, my friend! Also, I have not had this checked for errors and my brain is too tired tonight. I’ll go over and fix stuff tomorrow…. Because no beta, we die like men.

You watched him pace the length of the room, fingertips rubbing roughly at his temples as if he was fighting off a headache. That would be you, Y/N. You thought, biting back a chuckle. Your group had arrived back at the prison, battered, bruised, and bleeding but hearts still beating. You counted that as a win.

Daryl was not so easily mollified.

He had stayed behind on this run, having only returned from hunting just as your group was heading out. He wasn’t happy that you were going out without him. It was all so amusing to you, personally. When the two of you had first met back at the quarry, you had taken one of the squirrels he had brought back, held it by the tail, and smacked him upside the head with it after he had said something particularly offensive. It was even funnier that you couldn’t remember now what it was that he had said. Regardless, he had retaliated by soaking you in the blood he drained from the rodent he had been skinning. Even in his anger back then, you had caught the look in his eye.

You weren’t afraid of him.

Your friendship started then and there. You spent more time in the Dixon camp than you had with your own boyfriend. That had not gone over well. Mark was the younger brother of one of Ed Peletier’s friends. The moment Daryl had found you doing laundry and saw the shiner you sported, you were given your own small tent next to his and Merle’s. When the perpetrator had come looking for you, the Dixon brothers had formed an immovable wall in front of you.

You still weren’t sure if Mark had been killed by a walker like Merle had said.

Regardless, you were free. Daryl took you under his wing, teaching you to hunt and defend yourself. When he had finally handed you his beloved crossbow, you had laughed and asked if you needed to buy her dinner before squeezing her trigger.

“Stop.” Daryl had huffed, amusement gleaming in those blue eyes.

You had been out with the younger brother when Merle had been left abandoned. While you were angry, you knew how belligerent the man could be, so Rick’s explanation hadn’t seemed too far fetched to you. You went with the group to try and bring him home. You had taken the brunt of Daryl’s verbal aggression with grace, knowing he was in pain. He would never hurt you. That much you knew. When emotions were running high, Daryl floundered and would try to escape them by any means necessary. Even if that meant bucking against someone he cared about.

Still, you stayed.

Months had passed. You didn’t even try to keep up with that anymore, focusing more on the change of the seasons. It felt less like losing something if you only changed your perspective. The group became a family. You had lost the farm and wandered throughout the winter before finding the prison that was your home now.

You and Daryl had remained steadfast, but he continued to open up, bit by bit. First with Carol, then with Rick. Him coming out of his shell made you happy, watching him become more and more comfortable with the others. You’d be lying, though, if you said you didn’t worry about being replaced.

Then, after choosing the cells you all would call your rooms, you came back from your first shower to find the mattress missing from the one you had selected. Daryl was sitting on the top step that led down to the lower level, waiting for you.

“Did you take my mattress, Dixon?”

“Yep.” So nonchalant, like you had just asked if the sky was blue.

“You gonna tell me why?” You pressed, kicking his hip gently with the toe of your boot.

“Ya stay where I can keep a eye on ya.” He shrugged, continuing to fiddle with his crossbow.

“What if I wanted my own space, huh?” You sat next to him and bumped your shoulder into his.

“Cell ain’t goin’ nowhere. S’there if ya need it.”

You never seemed to need it, perfectly content on sharing his perch with him. You had brought things back from runs; books, pictures, and little what-nots that now decorated the area. He never complained beyond the occasional scoff or eyeroll.

And time marched on. Your role in the group was just as vital as anyone else now. You took watches, went on runs, and helped clear the fence. You lost sleep, gave up your portions of the rations to make sure everyone else stayed fed, and you sustained injuries. You weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty for the good of your family.

Which is exactly why you were now perched on one of the tables in the cafeteria, watching Daryl pace a hole into the concrete floor.

“No one died, Dixon.” You leaned back with your palms pressed against the table, collected demeanor the polar opposite of his pulsing anxiety.

“Ya coulda, though, Y/N!” The man snapped, his longer hair shifting to cover his face when he spun to look at you.

“Calm down before you have a stroke.” You mused with a smile.

“Can ya be serious for five fuckin’ seconds?”

You could have sworn you saw smoke boiling out of his ears. Damn, he was mad. “I am.” You sat up straight with your best attempt at stoicism. “Stress can absolutely trigger a stroke and—” You had started laughing while he stomped over to you and grabbed your shoulders.

“Stop, goddamnit!”

“Okay, okay.” You patted his forearm and willed yourself to choke back the amusement. “We’re all fine, Daryl.” Lips pressed into a thin line, he gave you a nod, one that continued even as he released your left shoulder to roughly flick the bandage on your thigh that concealed a deep cut Hershel had earlier stitched. You were taken aback, eyes widening at the tendrils of pain that snaked out from the tender wound. “Ow.” You deadpanned.

“Coulda been a lot worse, Y/N.” He seemed calmer now but his gaze was still intense, shoulders high and nostrils flaring.

“I know that!” You finally snapped back, twisting around until he let you go altogether and stepped out of your space. “Christ, Daryl, I could die just going to piss! I know how dangerous the things we have to do are!” You hated arguing with him but sometimes, brandishing your own anger was the only way to get through to him. He watched you, obviously chewing on the inside of his cheek before he brought his thumb up to inflict the same abuse.

“Nah, not you. Not anymore.” He shook his head and started to walk away.

“What the—” Pain radiated through your leg when you hastily hopped down a little too roughly in your attempt to keep up with him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Daryl? Daryl!” When he made it clear he had no intention of stopping, you had to sprint to cut him off at the door, pressing your palms against his chest to force him to a halt. “Where are you going? What did you mean?”

“M’tellin’ Rick ya ain’t goin’ out there no more.”

Your eyebrows shot up, mouth falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Ya heard me, Y/N.” He made to step around you but you moved with him. “Go get offa that leg.” He ordered in an attempt to persuade you into relenting. He knew better.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to say where I can and can’t go?” You seethed. Now it was you who was fuming and pacing, though it wasn’t as intimidating with your profound limp. Daryl crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. You suddenly wanted to punch him square in the nose.

“Ya ain’t got no business out there. Ya can do plenty here to help.”

“Says the man that goes off hunting alone every other day!” You hissed. Your fists were clenched at your sides.

“That’s diff’rent.”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. This I’ve just got to hear.” You laughed emptily and mimicked his stance.

“Ya just ain’t goin’ and that’s that.” When you moved to cut him off again, he was ready. His arm caught you at the chest and kept you from crossing in front of him.

“Goddamnit, Daryl! This isn’t your decision!” You yelled, trailing after him once again. You grabbed his wrist but he shook you off. “I want to help!”

“Ya can help here!” He shot back without looking at you.

“Would you just stop?!”

“Nah.”

“Why the fuck do you even care?!”

That stopped him in his tracks, nearly making you crash into his back. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his posture radiating with tension. He turned his head to the side and focused on something, anything but you, speaking to you over his shoulder. Somehow, this made you more nervous than his livid pacing.

“Ya even hafta ask?” You didn’t respond, utterly confused. The archer gave you more time than necessary but when you remained silent, he shook his head and changed course, heading outdoors instead of to the cell blocks. “Do whatever ya want.”

Your anger dissipated. “Daryl, wait. Where are you going?”

“M’leavin’ now or I’ma say things I’ll regret later.”

You called his name again but the only reply was the slam of the heavy metal door.

Your search for him didn’t last long. You knew better than anyone that there was no finding Daryl when he didn’t want to be found. In his absence, you did the only thing you could do: sulk.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Carol queried, adjusting the basket of laundry on her hip after she stopped by the picnic table you had been perched at for the last 3 hours. Your only response was a heavy sigh. “Staring at the woods won’t make him come back any faster.” Your head shot up to reveal her knowing smile. Aside from you, Carol was the only other person to even relatively understand the younger Dixon. “What’d you argue about?” The silver-haired woman deposited the laundry on the table and took a seat across from you.

“He doesn’t want me to go on runs anymore.” A quiet reply while you toyed with some twine you had been using to hang up things around your space inside.

“And that bothers you?”

“Of course it does!” You snapped before quickly muttering an apology, though Carol didn’t seem affected. “It feels like he doesn’t trust me.”

“You know that’s bullshit.” Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. To your recollection, you had never before heard the woman utter even a syllable of a curse. She, of course, only offered a cheeky grin. “What? You think I can hang around you two and not pick up something?”

“Touché.” You nodded.

“Listen, Y/N,” she started and took your hand, “Daryl cares about you, more than he lets on.” She wouldn’t mention all the times he had come to her with questions. How he would mumble and blush when trying to figure something out to make you happy. How he would actively look for at least one thing to bring back for you from a run. “I think you should try to see this from his perspective.” Just like she had told him to see it from yours. “I think then you may be able to compromise, yeah?”

You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think it over. Thanks, Carol.”

“Good.” The woman stood and grabbed up the basket. “Besides, you’re both insufferable when you’re fighting.” You reached out to give her a playful shove as she walked by and then patted the hand she laid briefly on your shoulder.

She was right. You didn’t want to keep fighting with Daryl. It made you both (and apparently everyone else) miserable. You’d have to come up with something in the middle.

The sky had faded to a pale lavender with the orange hue of the setting sun peeking over the trees. It was getting late and Daryl hadn’t returned. Your fingertips were sore from drumming on the table. Just as you stood with the intent to grab a weapon and go after him, a silhouette emerged from the treeline. There was a distinct outline of a crossbow on their back. The relief was immense and had you sinking back down onto the bench with your hand clutching the front of your shirt.

Your eyes stayed trained on him as he made his way past the walkers outside and entered the gate that was promptly closed behind him. From a distance, he appeared fine albeit a little dirty. He walked slowly with his head down, but he had been out all day, so you hoped that was nothing more than fatigue. He made it a little closer than you thought he would before he raised his head and his gaze went straight to you.

“Hey.” You offered, standing slowly. He gave you a nod and you thought he may walk on by, but he stopped just shy of the table. “You okay?” Another nod, his eyes seemingly studying your boots. “Look, Daryl—”

“I was wrong.” It came out so quickly that you had to think about it for a moment before you made sense of what he said. “Earlier. Was wrong. Ain’t got no right to tell ya what to do.”

This time, it was you who nodded. “I know why though.” He looked up, blue eyes peering from behind his hair.

“Ya do?”

“Yeah. You want to keep me safe. You care about me.” You smiled, small but genuine. A strange look crossed his face but was gone a moment later. Was that disappointment?

“Right.” He had started to chew on his thumbnail.

Licking your lips nervously, you continued. “I’ll do no more than two runs a week. And only when you’re going too.” You were absolutely certain you caught a ghost of a smile.

“Fair ‘nough.” He was shifting from foot to foot now, thumb still pressed against his lips. You had been so focused on the problem at hand that you hadn’t noticed the anxiety radiating from him in waves. Something was off. This had been too easy.

“Daryl, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mhm, just—just tired.” His eyes said as much. You placed your hand on his bicep and ushered him along toward the door.

“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” Had your focus not been ahead, you would have seen the way he only smiled once he looked down at you.

“Got some formula for Lil Asskicker.” Daryl rounded the end of the aisle you were knelt in, displaying the four cans in his pack before closing it up and placing it on his shoulder.

“That’ll last her about 3 days.” You quirked, causing Daryl to snort behind you. “She’s growing like a little weed.” There wasn’t much left in the way of over the counter medications but you had scored some infants Tylenol and gas relief drops, as well as medication for the adults. “The food was pretty picked through. I got a couple of cans of fruit, though!” You placed three more bottles of tylenol in your bag and stood, your knees protesting the movement.

“Y’ready then?” Daryl turned to head to the front of the old store. Glenn and Maggie were set to meet the two of you in the parking lot.

“All set!” You confirmed, adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. You jogged to catch up with the archer, bumping into his side while pulling your knife from its sheath. Daryl smirked and ruffled your hair before gently shoving you away. “Pretty good haul, I think. Maybe we could stop by that gas—”

“Sshh.” The bowman had gone rigid, his hand just in front of your mouth. “Ya hear that?” It was faint at first but the closer the two of you moved towards the front of the store, the louder the thumping and moaning became.

“That sounds like an awful lot of walkers, Daryl.” You rounded the broken down checkout lanes to bring the doors into view and felt your stomach drop. The light that should have been filtering through the dusty glass doors was completely snuffed out by the multitude of bodies shuffling past. A glance at the archer found him tense and mirroring your expression. “Glenn and Maggie—” You whispered urgently.

“They’ll wait ‘em out. Ain’t their first rodeo.” He had lowered his crossbow to his side. “Ours neither. Get comfy, girl. Might be here a bit.” He hopped up to sit on one of the conveyors while you walked through one of the other lanes to look at some of the old magazines. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small piece of bright orange peeking out from under the checkout shelf.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked in an enthused whisper.

“What?” Daryl was on his feet, crossbow leveled with his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You were already on your knees to retrieve the object of your excitement. “Reese’s cups!” You sprang up to your feet, waving the small package around triumphantly.

The archer let the crossbow fall to his side, his face hidden behind his palm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Big word, Dixon. I’m proud.” You bumped him deliberately with your hip as you walked by, hopping up where he had just been perched. The man leaned his weapon against the shelf where the cash register was positioned and sat beside you. You didn’t ask if he wanted the second treat, just handing it over habitually. You always shared with him. He accepted it with a smirk you didn’t see since you were already taking the first bite of the stale candy. “Buttery baby Jesus.” You moaned, eyes rolling back.

Daryl barked a laugh, almost dropping the Reese’s. “M’not sure I wanna know why baby Jesus is buttery.” He was shaking his head when he caught your bewildered expression. “What?” He questioned around the first bite.

“They told me it couldn’t happen. That it was impossible.” You whispered, eyes wide. The look on his face said he was waiting for you to continue. “You… you laughed.”

His expression deadpanned. “Shtop.” He mumbled around the chocolate and peanut butter.

“I’m serious, Dixon. We were all wondering when we would stumble across the reanimated remains of your sense of humor.”

He swallowed and bumped you with his shoulder. “I hate ya.”

“I love you too.” Your lips pressed against his cheek and pulled away just as quickly. The man went rigid, eyes straight forward. You didn’t seem to notice, wandering around the front.

His blue eyes began to follow your movements, the tight feeling in his chest overpowering the butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach. His face was burning all the way to the tips of his ears. No longer hungry, he delicately wrapped the remaining Reese’s cup in its wrapper and put it in his bag to give to you later.

You had knelt down to look through a basket labeled ‘return to stock.’ “Score! Batteries!” You exclaimed, mostly to yourself, and quickly shoved the different sizes into your pack. Behind you, the archer cleared his throat.

“Think they’re gone.” He was motioning toward the door when you turned to acknowledge him.

You twisted to the other side to find nothing but dull light creeping through the glass. “Nice! You ready?”

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

You both shouldered your packs and grabbed your weapons, moving almost silently through the door. Glenn and Maggie had undoubtedly hunkered down as well, so it was anyone’s guess who would arrive first at the meeting spot. Daryl followed behind you, walking backwards to ensure the area you couldn’t see stayed clear.

“I think we’re good. It’s this way. Maybe Glenn and—” You rounded the corner, voice cut off into surprised shriek as two walkers tumbled into you. The back of your head met the concrete with a sickening crack and black spots danced across your vision. There was a loud bang to your left that you couldn’t place. Your body moved almost on autopilot, fumbling for the weapon you had dropped while you held one walker back with your forearm and kicked back the other with your free leg. You could hear Daryl screaming your name above the blood rushing in your ears. “D-Daryl!” You managed around the bile creeping up your throat. What seemed like several minutes later, the weight above you vanished and your gun was thrust into your hands.

“C’mon, girl! Up we go!”

Daryl’s hands were on you, pulling you up haphazardly by your arm. His voice sounded muffled but strained, like he was shouting under water. The world tilted and spun, and you felt an arm tighten around your back that you hadn’t realized was even there. You blinked hard, willing your surroundings to come into focus, but Daryl’s jarring movements were aggravating the already present nausea. Before you could warn him, you listed to your right and retched, the bile burning the back of your throat.

“Shit!”

His voice was a little clearer now, but you must have thrown him off balance. You tumbled down, only barely catching yourself on your palms before you would have smashed face first into the puddle of sick on the asphalt. Daryl crashed into your back a second later but quickly averted his weight so he landed beside you. A string of curses left his mouth as he pushed himself up, your eyes trying to follow him but stopping short on the smear of crimson where he had fallen.

“Daryl, are—are you bleeding?” Am I bleeding? You were being hauled to your feet again, the motion almost too much. Your vision grayed at the edges and you felt a strange tingling in your limbs. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.

“Over here! Hurry!”

Glenn. You had never been so relieved to hear his voice. It was short lived as you felt yourself fading. Your body was shifted again and now the world was upside down, a strong grip pressing into your ribs and the side of your knees. The last thing you saw was the herd of walkers closing in before it all went dark.

You awoke with a start, sitting up halfway before the pounding in your head made its presence known and you fell back with a grunt.

“Easy.”

Daryl. Thank god. You risked opening your eyes, finding him to be looking down at you from straight above. Scenery was flying by just beside his head. You were in the car, your head pillowed on Daryl’s lap. “Glenn? Maggie?” You asked quietly. You didn’t think you were physically capable of talking any louder.

“We’re here, Y/N.” Maggie’s voice came from the front seat. You felt her gentle touch in your arm and you immediately relaxed. You had all made it.

“What happened?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes focused on the archer when they wanted nothing more than to close and let you be dragged back into oblivion.

“Other half’a the herd came down on us. Ya cracked your melon when two’a ‘em took ya down.”

Worry and fatigue laced his voice but as you studied him, you could see the clear indicators of pain. Daryl always hid it well but you knew him better than anyone.

“You hurt?”

He shifted in the seat slightly and winced. “Ya must’a squeezed the trigger when ya went down. Shot me.”

Your eyes blew wide and you were instantly moving, trying to sit up. Your body seemed to disagree with that plan of action. “Where are you hit? How bad is it? Damn it!”

“Whoa! Hold up!” He pulled you back down, calloused finger smoothing the hair away from your face. “M’alright. Got the back’a my leg. Hershel’ll take care’a it.” You stared at him with wide, exhausted eyes. Were you actually lying on his wounded leg?

“I shot you?” You could feel the tears collecting on your lashes, guilt eating away at your insides, colliding with the nausea so hard that it made your vision swim. “I’m so sorry.” Your fingertips found his jaw, barely brushing the prickly hair there before your arm became too heavy to hold up.

“Ya didn’t do it on purpose, Y/N.”

“I would…never…” You suddenly felt exhaustion pulling you under, Daryl’s pleas for you to stay awake fading into white noise as blackness swallowed you up once again.

It had been three days since the run. Two had seen you lying in bed with Hershel doing periodic checks to ensure that the concussion wasn’t something more serious. Daryl had been there too. He would only leave when threatened by Carol, forced to go rest himself. He never stayed gone long. Rick had finally dragged an extra mattress in and placed it in the corner. The archer finally allowed himself to fall asleep and that’s how you found him when you had awoken near the end of day two. Hershel arrived to check your vitals and found you propped up on your elbows, watching Daryl sleep.

“How long has he been there?” You asked quietly. The old man smiled and released your wrist, satisfied with your pulse.

“It’d be easier to tell you when he wasn’t in here.” He mused while shaking two pills from a bottle. The sound didn’t disturb the bowman in the slightest, a testament to his exhaustion. “Take these.”

You trusted the old veterinarian and took the offered medication, just assuming it was for pain. Your eyes never left Daryl. “His leg— did it—will he—”

Hershel patted your own leg and waited for you to finally look at him. He shone a small light in your eyes and smiled again. “He’ll be fine. And so will you. You both just need to rest.”

You nodded and laid your head back on the pillow, turning on your side so you could keep Daryl in your sights. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You didn’t hear Hershel leave.

Now, you were perched in the tower. It was the only thing Rick would allow you to do after Hershel released you. The sun had long ago set and the prison was dark and silent, save for the moans of the walkers shuffling around outside the fences. You had learned to tune them out when you were out there, allowing yourself to enjoy the fresh air and the quiet peace the night offered.

“Hey.”

You jerked around with a start, vision swimming only slightly as Daryl came into focus just beside the door leading to the ladder. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and chewed on the opposite thumbnail.

“Hi.” You smiled at him but it faded as he limped toward where you sat, hissing as he took a seat next to you. “Still hurts?”

“I’ll live.” He was looking out over the field and into the trees for a moment before turning to you. You avoided his gaze, and you knew he knew. “Ya alright?” You looked back at him and he tapped his finger against his forehead.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling much better.” A smile graced your lips once again, not quite reaching your eyes. Daryl nodded, his thumb to his mouth again. “You were right, you know.” His brow creased in confusion but you looked away, finding the treeline before continuing. “I shouldn’t be going out there anymore.”

The archer shook his head and moved his hand back to his lap. “Nah, Y/N. What happened was—”

“My fault.” You nodded resolutely, ignoring the twinge of discomfort it caused. “I wasn’t careful. I was distracted. I shot you.”

“That was a accident.”

“That doesn’t matter, Daryl!” Your voice escalated. The tears stinging your eyes threatened to fall. The walkers beyond the fence zeroed in on the noise and began to gather. The bowman glanced over, assessing the situation. When the fence held the extra weight, he looked back to you, your cheeks now wet before you angrily wiped at them with the back of your hand. “I’m a liability out there. You need someone better to—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, with a hand on your knee, “ya got my back out there. You do.” Daryl ducked down his head, searching for your gaze. “Ya got yer shit together. Y’know what yer doin’ out there. There ain’t no one I trust more. Ya hear me?”

Confusion twisted your expression. You turned to face him, careful that your legs didn’t bump his. “Then why?” You asked with a gentle shake of your head. “Why did you fight me so hard about going out?” You watched several emotions skitter across the archer’s face, but he settled on one: guilt. He scowled deeply, bottom lip caught between his teeth with his gaze anywhere but on you. “Daryl?”

“I, uh—” You saw a spot of blood on his lip before his tongue quickly erased it. “I just—need to know you’re safe.”

He wasn’t making much sense. “If you know I can take care of myself, why are you worried?”

His face began to redden, the color spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “Damnit, y’know I ain’t no good with words, kid!”

“Obviously. Because I’m not a kid.” You chuckled, your fingertips brushing his cheek before you used your palm to coax his head to turn. He kept his eyes stubbornly downcast, his hand immediately lifting his thumb towards his mouth. You intercepted and gently pushed his hand to his lap, keeping your own over it. “Just say what you mean.”

Daryl swallowed hard, his jaw clenching while he slumped in the chair. You knew where this was headed. He was trying to process something deep; something important. When faced head on with emotions, there was only one thing Daryl could count on: his anger. When his fingers folded into a fist below your hand, you didn’t let him pull away.

“We don’t need to talk about this. Let’s just table it for later, alright?” You smiled gently and moved to turn yourself forward, away from him.

This time, it was him that stopped you from pulling away. “Nah.” When you turned your face back to reassure him things were okay, he met you there. His lips pressed against yours firmly, almost aggressively. This definitely wasn’t something he had planned. Soon enough, the pressure minimized and you were able to react. Your brain was currently short-circuiting but you managed to move your mouth against his, finding a rhythm in the hungry dance.

Of all the things Daryl could “say” to you, this was definitely not on your bingo card for the year. His hands gently held the sides of your neck, calloused fingers sliding up your skin to tangle in your hair. Your own hands found purchase in the front of his vest, using it to keep him close to you; afraid that he would change his mind now that you had accepted his confession. And that’s what this was.

A confession.

Daryl was a man of action, not words. He had been for as long as you had been a part of his life. So this? You could decipher this pretty easily. He cared about you more than a friend. He was willing to be vulnerable with you. He trusted you. He worried about you. He wanted you close by and safe. He loved you. Was he in love with you? That was the only question left. You definitely didn’t mind waiting for the answer as long as he could keep kissing you like this.

You tried to pull back to breathe, but he held fast, tongue licking into your mouth the moment it opened to protest. Drawing a deep breath through your nose, you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh and allow yourself to taste him as well. Tobacco smoke and a hint of spice that you found delicable, craving more as you began to take charge. Releasing his vest, you opened your palms and pressed him against the back of the chair. Your lips never left his, even as the angle changed for you to be standing over him. He had released your hair and settled his palms on your hips as you lowered to straddle his lap.

You had begun to wonder just how far this would go when your full weight settled onto him, and he yelped (in a very manly way, if anyone asked) against your mouth. You pulled back, tripping over his boot and crashing toward the floor. Daryl tried to stop your descent, managing to catch your bicep which led to your hand gripping the front of his vest while your leg was still trapped behind his. You successfully pulled him off the chair, the pair of you meeting the concrete one right after the other.

You laid there for a moment, stunned and assessing the situation. When your eyes met Daryl’s wide blue gaze, you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. The entire prison could probably hear you but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Especially when you heard the brief chuckle from beside you.

“Great first kiss, Dixon.” You let your head gingerly fall back, the stitched wound beneath your hair still tender. “Top notch.”

“Shut up.” There was no heat behind the words. In fact, he sounded rather relaxed. “First, huh?”

You grinned at the stars, wondering how red his face would be if you chose to look at him at that moment. “Of many.”

He hummed in reply. You started to rethink your words, worried that you were putting too much pressure on him, but then you felt his finger brush over the back of your hand. He didn’t do more than just press his hand against yours but allowed you to wrap your index finger around his. For several moments, the two of you laid there, silent but comfortable in it.

“I’m still on watch.” You finally said, already missing his touch when he moved his hand away. “I guess I should be, you know, watching.”

“Mhmm.” He replied. You turned your head to watch him struggle to his feet, hurrying to get up yourself to steady him. Once he found his balance, you let go and took a deep breath. You didn’t want this moment to end.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“‘Course.” He gave you a look that meant you should have known the answer already.

“Night, Daryl.” You plopped back down onto your chair and looked out through your binoculars while you waited to hear the door close. When it didn’t, you turned to find him still standing a few feet away.

“You, uh—if ya want some company, I could—y’know, stay.” He was blushing again, rubbing the back of his neck like he had when he’d first arrived earlier. You’d never tell him how adorable he looked. He’d likely murder you in your sleep. So, you smiled and nodded before patting the other chair.

“Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.” As he limped back over, you felt a warmth rise and settle in your chest, one you hadn’t felt since before the world ended. Actually, this was new. This was different. This was the beginning of something. Something beautiful born out of darkness and death. Something you’d fight like hell to hold onto.

And you’d never have to fight alone.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #Spotify

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cleolinda · 7 months

Text

I grew up in a haunted house and I didn’t notice

This is not a story about boo ghosts or shadow people. If it were, I would have figured it out, at least.

When I say "I grew up in a haunted house and I didn't notice," you have to understand that there was a lot going on with this house. It's not the house that I've written about currently living in, the one with newspaper and soda cans stuffed where insulation should have been, the one with constant home-repair calamities. No, my childhood home was a crumbling pile of red brick built in the 1920s. Narnia was in the backyard, and the back deck was my ship on the high seas. The house was surrounded by banks of flowers, lilies and irises and roses, and it was full of creepy shit I didn’t even blink at. I loved it.

It didn't look haunted, or even particularly historical. It was almost disappointingly normal—I lived on a street with a house that had a turret, for God's sake. No, it was just old and small. There's a lot of pre-Depression houses getting torn down in these suburbs; my town has been awash in construction for the last 20-30 years as people buy up cheap old houses, raze them, and squeeze mini-mansions onto their tiny lots, all to get their kids into a good school system. It gives me a chill to think of it, but yeah, that might happen to my childhood home someday, small and plain and unassuming as it is. My pirate ship has already been renovated into an extra bedroom, the new owners told us.

When we moved into the house in 1983, though—it had clearly been renovated in the '60s or '70s; the wallpaper was hideous, and the upstairs bathroom was carpeted. Shag-carpeted. The house had closets the size of shoeboxes; my bedroom, the one with the peach wallpaper, didn't even have one. The room down the hall had four, including one cut into the wall, under a slanted ceiling tucked beneath the roof, that looked like you'd stash a witch there when the Salem HOA came by. There was a fan in the attic—well, first of all, the attic was just one more room on that upstairs floor. It was directly across from the (carpeted) bathroom, and that room (lit by one ominous, hanging bulb) was just a short corridor with storage spaces on either side, hidden behind big sliding doors. And the fan at the very end was built into the brick outer wall of the house. Like our house was functionally open to the elements, between the blades of that fan. I have no idea what the fuck anyone was thinking when they built that, and how the fuck anyone kept the wildlife out.

We certainly couldn't. Squirrels lived in the roof and bowled with acorns. It was like listening to a pinball machine at night. I have an abject horror of cockroaches because sometimes an adventurous one would fall off the ceiling in the middle night, onto me, while I was trying to sleep. (Like, try to imagine that—you’re awakened from a dead sleep by a vague, paper-light skittering sensation up and down your arm. When Pennywise comes to me, he will show up as a cockroach.) But wait! There was more! We had herds of crickets in the basement that felt compelled to jump at people. Sometimes there were centipedes! Those were polite enough to only come out at night. In the dark.

By the way, that basement was totally unfinished. I don't mean that it just had exposed beams or concrete walls. I mean that the basement had uneven, mostly shoulder-high masonry walls, and then it was just open on three sides, extending under the rest of the house. Like just dry red Alabama earth and rocks and grainy dust tumbling around in this vast, dark—it wasn't even a crawl space, a child could have stood upright in it. This child? Oh fuck no. And the washer and dryer were down there. I had to creep down there, down a rickety plank staircase, past the staring dark caverns of my own basement, through a low-lying fog of aggressive crickets, go BEHIND THE STAIRCASE, and then do my laundry there. There was also a firewood pile by an old fridge, and only God knew what was under that.

None of this was haunted. All of this was completely normal to me. This isn't even the haunted part.

So let's go back upstairs. The ground floor was lovely, homey, fine except for the time the living room ceiling fell out due to water damage. Upstairs was where it got weird. I've talked about being mildly bullied as an unknowingly autistic child; home was where I felt safe. In my bedroom upstairs, I had all those My Little Ponies and my easel with all my crayon-drawn fantasy maps and all the stories I wrote. It didn't matter if roaches fell on me in the deeps of the night; home, that's where I was happy. So when I was a young kid and I felt like a vampire was following me down the hall at night, I assumed I was just being silly.

I was aware of vampires in the 1980s as, like, the Count on Sesame Street (ah ah aaah), and Count Chocula, and Count Duckula on Nickelodeon, and the Bunnicula books that I loved. As a kid, I wasn't aware of movies like The Lost Boys or Near Dark, or any vampires that weren't broad caricatures of the Bela Lugosi look. I loved Spooky Stuff—I'm from the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark generation—but vampires didn't scare me.

But when I had to get up in the middle of the night to go down the hall to the (carpeted) bathroom, I always had the sensation that something was following me as I was going back to my room. Something Dark. Not terribly tall, maybe not even much taller than me. And somehow, I visualized this deep in my mind as a vampire. Kind of a silly one, you know, the white-tie formal wear and the ribbon medal and the cape. I wasn't desperately scared that a Chocula was behind me, but I knew that I needed to get back to my room quick, and, at all costs, I must never look back. I must never look over my shoulder or else I would See It, something silly massing in the dark—and, brother, Eurydice would have been safe with me. Never stop running, never look back.

And I'm sure all kinds of kids develop little superstitions like this. It's probably a developmental thing, like having an imaginary friend (which I also had at some point). Even as a seven year old, I was thinking, This is silly, I'm just making it up (but not looking back costs nothing. Not looking at monsters is free). And I continued to think this, until I laughingly told my younger sister this at Sunday Family Dinner one night. We were both in our thirties at that point. And my sister started crying. Like just staring at me in wide-eyed horror, her eyes filling with tears. And she told me that when she had a bedroom upstairs, there was Something in there.

I won't belabor the exact setup, but at one point, we got it into our heads that we'd like to switch bedrooms, just for a change. I was 14, and I moved to her ground floor bedroom with the flowered white wallpaper and the big bright windows, and she went upstairs and took my room with the peach wallpaper and the cool slanted roof-ceiling (and no closet).

There were three other rooms on that upper floor (and I promise you this is important):

1) One was a small, windowless room that we used as a playroom, with weird cerulean blue carpet and sky blue wallpaper, one dim light fixture, and a little door in the wall that led to dark nothing. Like, you opened it, and you were confronted by a mass of pipes and machinery and just enough space to edge leftwards in the dark. Towards what? Fuck if I know, I sure as hell wasn't going in there. I think it was supposed to be for access to the HVAC system. I don't know. It was fucked. But when I was a young child, I had cooked for my baby dolls at our plastic play kitchen right next to that door, nbd, because apparently you put me in a creepy situation and I just go, yeah, we live like this now.

(I had not ever felt alone in that playroom, but I had also been too young to articulate that. Of course I wasn’t alone! I was with my dolls!)

2) The next room was the (shag-carpeted) bathroom. It had a big mirror over the sink counter, very typical, facing a vertical mirror that was behind the bathroom door. I've heard two mirrors facing each other can create a portal for the spirits, if you believe in that kind of thing. I once did the "Bloody Mary" thing there and nothing happened, idk.

3) The next room was the bedroom with four closets, where an older family member lived with us, and when she moved out, my sister moved to that room.

?) The fourth room, not really a room, was the dark, narrow attic.

So, Grownup Family Dinner at my current house, a few years ago: my sister told me that Something had lived in the Four Closets Bedroom with her. I'm not sure if she actually said it lived in the little Hide A Witch closet or if it was just kind of... ambient. I don't know what it looked like, or if we're talking about ghosts or Something... Darker, or what. I don't think she's entirely sure herself. She doesn't like to talk about it in detail a whole lot. What I know is that she felt it was there, and she had chosen that room to sleep in as a young teenager, and not a lot of sleep was to be had.

"I never really sensed anything, like… demonic," I said, puzzled. "Just the Chocula that followed me." And my sister was like, ARE YOU LISTENING TO YOURSELF??

"What about Rebecca??" she sputtered.

Oh, yeah: Rebecca. (A name I've changed at my sister's request.) I had a friend as a teenager who liked to mess around with ouija boards (AM I LISTENING TO MYSELF?), and we did a session at her house one time wherein we discovered that the ghost of a girl? young woman? named Rebecca lived (so to speak) at my house, and she had been murdered by her boyfriend. How we arrived at these specifics, I don’t remember, but I had told my sister about it because I thought it was interesting, and also, I was kind of a shit. My friend also decided she had her own ghost named Dusty. It was all one big [citation needed, footage not found], but it was also part of our family lore.

So, many years later, my sister told me that she had long felt—without knowing about the Chocula—that there were two spirits on the upper floor of our childhood home: the dark one, and a younger, lighter one. I sat there at the kitchen table and thought about it.

"You know, I did kind of feel like there was someone up there, when I was a kid," I said. "Sometimes I would go into the attic, and it felt scary, but like there was something there watching that was okay? Like having a lamp on in a dark room, kind of. It’s weird, because it’s just a feeling, I remember it very clearly, but I didn’t really question it or wonder."

I thought a bit more.

"Oh yeah—there was also the time I just really felt compelled to go color in the playroom by myself at midnight, and it kind of felt like someone was there."

My sister stared at me, saucer-eyed, pale. Like I'm not sure I had ever seen anyone "go white" until that moment.

"Yeah, I just woke up and had this idea—I was maybe nine years old? That it would be super cool to do stuff at night when I was supposed to be asleep, so I got a flashlight and went into the playroom—"

"IN THE DARK??"

"Well, yeah. If I had turned on the light, someone would have seen it and told me to go back to bed. So I set this flashlight on the floor and got out the crayons and colored in one of my coloring books a while. Maybe the She-Ra one?"

Thinking back on it now—of course I was sitting right by the scary door. I think we all, you and I, saw that coming.

"And I had the same feeling I had in the attic. Like someone was sitting on the floor across from me, friendly, I guess I would say female, and it was cool. Like, it was chill."

My sister looked like she was about to pass out.

"I don’t really know how I could sense this then but not really say anything about it, or even think about it, until now," I said, shrugging. "I’m probably imagining it."

I’ll throw in here that one of the dolls I had in that room was a Raggedy Ann. Like, just for extra hilarity, Wee Cleo is hanging out, coloring, at midnight, with a ghost and a fuckin’ Annabelle.

So: My sister is adamant that our childhood home was haunted. And apparently I was entirely blasé about it (maybe possessed?), but then, I was dealing with a lot of suburban wildlife. My problems with that house were far more immediate. And crawly. Nor can we prove that the house was haunted—I certainly haven’t looked up any homicide records—and I don’t think that Vibes, In Retrospect, are valid evidence on my part. But I find it interesting that I knew what she was talking about. I find it interesting that I was like, "Yeah, that was chill." And I find it interesting that when I went away to college, and I lived in a dorm suite where sometimes I’d be the only person there while my roommates were out,

I remember noticing that it was the first time I’d ever felt alone in a room.

Who was that imaginary friend I'd had?

I asked my sister to read over this, partly because I wanted to see if she’d be willing to describe the Something Dark.

"Oh, I’ll tell you anything you want," she texted back, "but that’s not how it happened."

#part one of two #me for some reason #story time with cleo #tl;dr my childhood home was fucked up and I was hilariously unbothered about it #insects cw #long post #the haunting of jones house #spooky season #halloween everyday #first look on patreon

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generic-cleric · 1 year

Text

Session 51

Session doc

Folder

Beware spoilers for Curse of Strahd may lie ahead

Hungry Like The Wolf

When we pick back up again, they come to the realization that they are sandwiched between a very aggressive ghost and a den of werewolves at night, in a world where we have established that some werewolves turn every night.

Jander also mentions that if they don’t want to draw attention to themselves from the Den, they should confront Arvid away from the den, which everyone thought sounded reasonable. They began discussing how they might go about doing that.

Okrin runs at Arvid and misty steps past him and continues running in that direction. Arvid turns around to chase Okrin, worked like a charm. The people who are with Arvid try to keep up with the party while they are following Okrin, leading the fight away from the den, with their ultimate plan getting near enough to the Tower at the Lake in case they need to rely on it for shelter.

I run a skill challenge with them, dodging various terrains, animals, and attacks from enemies, but the party successfully makes it to a open field perfect for the scuffle. On the way, Bedlam had noticed some kind of magic going off over Lake Zarovich, which intrigued everyone.

I gave Okrin a nice surprise round on Arvid, and the fight ensued. The rest of the party and Emil dealt with the two strangers with Arvid, while Okrin and Arvid traded blows. Emil shifted into his hybrid form and pretty much shredded one of the guys, so the second one disengaged and left the combat. No one decided to chase him because they heard him say something about not being paid enough for this kind of work.

With the two minions gone, the rest of the party shifted their focus to helping out Okrin. After the final blow had been landed, Arvid crumbled to dust, cursing Okrin the whole time. He’s off to respawn somewhere so they can do this whole song and dance again.

With all that over and done with, the party decides to spend the rest of the night in the tower and tackle the den in the day. During the night they spend some time talking to Emil and getting some insight into how the den is run and what to expect. They find out from Emil that there is a young Goliath in the pack who was taken from Okrin’s village when it had been destroyed. Emil also mentions his wife Zuleika.

When day broke, Okrin’s first order of business was to go hunting. He found like 14 pounds total of squirrel and fox meat. Happy with the Oregon Trail haul they made their way back to the den. I didn’t make them run another skill challenge, instead they just “spent the time to get there”.

When they entered the mouth of the cave, they were stopped by the two guards. Some incredible persuasion rolls as well as some just really solid points were made. The party had no idea that the werewolves were currently going through a food shortage. It also was helpful that the party was known around Barovia for bringing the wine back. After a lot of huffing and groaning, the guards let the party enter in order to hand out the meat.

They follow the sounds of someone playing the flute and go deeper into the cave to find an elderly gentleman. He’s sitting around the campfire with several wolves and playing his flute. Everyone was excited by this, particularly Bedlam who jumped at the opportunity to play some music with him and give him some squirrel meat. They even passed around their smoking pipes.

They casually make their way through the cave and eventually bump into Sorana, Kiril’s wife who gives them a bit of trouble. Through a series of charisma rolls, they are able to verbally disarm her pretty well and get her off their case, though she still isn’t helpful enough to assist them in locating Zuleika. Bedlam even convinced her that Zuleika was his cousin, which still didn’t help much, but they gave her some food and went on their way.

While snooping through the cave, they found and interesting room containing an underground spring, a few crates, and a big open gash in the ceiling, though not what they were searching for, so they move along.

They enter the next room and find quite the sight. Several cages containing children, one containing an adult man, and the other containing a malnourished werewolf in hybrid form. A woman kneels before the bars of the cage containing the hybrid werewolf and she is speaking quietly. The moment she hears the party enter the “room” she stands, whirls around, and hides something behind her back.

The party introduces themselves, she’s vaguely familiar with them. They open up with telling her about Emil and she is overjoyed. After Kiril had removed Emil from the pack, Zuleika had been told he was dead. She was somewhere between going out to find him and staying to challenge Kiril for position of pack leader

She was happy to tell them everything they wanted to know. They found out that, since Kiril has been in charge they have been kidnapping children and making them fight, the winner of the battle is turned into a werewolf. When Emil was Alpha, there were no child fights, is stead all of the children were turned. Zuleika expresses that she didn’t care for that tactic either. She also tells them that both Emil and Kiril feel the longevity of the pack hinges off of their alliance with Strahd, though Zuleika disagrees and would prefer if the werewolves worked independently from the vampire lord. When asked about the hybrid werewolf in the cage, Zuleika explains that Nicoletta (the werewolf) and Haliq (the man in the cage) are dating and she was planning on leaving the pack. When Kiril caught wind of it, he imprisoned them and is making efforts to starve her in order to eventually feed Haliq to her. Zuleika has been sneaking her bites of food here and there, but she’s getting to a pretty rough point. They ask her about Izek who they were expecting to find here as well, but she tells them their princess is in another wolf den. There is a pack that runs along Tsolenka pass known for robbing and killing travelers.

The party expresses to her that they would like to take the children to safety, and they offer to take Nicoletta and Haliq with them as well. Zuleika offers to tag along, just to make sure everything is alright and to avoid the ire of Kiril when he returns to find the prisoners gone.

They get to work releasing the captives from their cages. When they get to Haliq, he immediately asks them “Oh did Burgomaster Vallakovich send you to rescue me?” to which they had to break the news that “No, not really.” In truth, the burgomaster sent them for Izek, and they actually had no idea that Vagas’s valet was missing, or that he even had one. They have a good long talk with Haliq, making sure he isn’t going to ditch his werewolf girlfriend when she needs him the most, really laying the pressure on thick. He assures them that he plans to stick with Nicoletta and pursue a relationship with her. This appeased them, so they released him too.

They discuss how they might get out of here with everyone. They considered drowning everyone out via Puddles and that pool, but they didn’t want to scar the children anymore than they had already been. They decided to utilize the hole in the ceiling instead. Okrin misty steps to the rim and hauls himself out. He uses his rope and pitons to secure an escape for everyone below. Zuleika and Haliq help Nicoletta out. Ireena, Jander, and Vondal help as many children as they can carry. Bedlam has to enlist the help of one of the older children, who he finds out is 14 year old Ilya Krezkov, the missing son of the burgomaster in Krezk. Bedlam was super stoked because “I was going to get hired to save you! Guys, we’re ahead of schedule!”

Bedlam and Ilya have a short conversation. I don’t remember how, but they get to talking about the Abbey and Ilya mentions that it’s a creepy haunted place, one of those places the kids dare eachother to get close to. Bedlam says “Oh man, a werewolf den is like a way bigger deal than some dumb abbey. You tell all the kids back home that you escaped a werewolf den, you’re gonna be the coolest kid in Barovia.”

“You really think so?” Ilya asks sheepishly. “I know so.” Bedlam retorts assuredly.

They haul up the last of the children and are now standing on the rocky top of the cave and are able to see a pack of wolves coming up from the lake towards the den, and Zuleika tells them Kiril is returning. They quickly and quietly discuss where they should be taking the children. Vallaki or Krezk? They settle on Vallaki as the pack enters the cave.

We decide that was a good spot to end the session for the day!

#Curse of Strahd #Barovia #Ravenloft #dnd #dndiary #5e #session summary #session write up #session recap #dungeons and dragons #dm

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wandering-the-fae-wyldes · 3 months

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Arriving at the Barrier

Jacwyn sighs in frustration as he walks through the forest, they'd been walking for hours now, and he was starting to get frustrated at the lack of change in the world around them. Every tree looked the same, the foiliage only shifting slightly to his untrained eyes. What had once been a looming forest of impossibly high trees, awing him with its wonder, had quickly become nearly mundane to him. Now it was little more than just another woodland trail to wander through, much like the walking trails back home, except now there were no tasteful benches for him to rest on, and worse he had two companions, one of who insisted on riding on his shoulder.

"Gods, how much further do we have to go? I feel like I've been walking all day!"

Tink rolls her eyes as she kicks her feet as she sits beside his head.

"Oh, stop complaining you lazy bum, we'll get there whenever we arrive. Stop complaining."

Jacwyn glares at the fairy, unable to keep himself from retorting.

"Lazy!? Look who's talking! You've done nothing since this whole thing began, all you've done is ride my shoulder and make a nuisance of yourself!"

Tink bristles at this, her wings blurring into motion as she flies off his shoulder and gets in his face, poking his nose aggressively.

"What did you say!? You're calling me lazy? Look here pal, I'm keeping you safe, keeping an eye and nose out for danger! You have no idea how many animals I've diverted from our path, all we're telling you to do is keep walking! So how about you stop whining and get to it you lazy elf!"

Jacwyn swats at the little fairy, missing by a wide margin as she flitters out of reach above him.

"Hey! Get back you ungrateful little fly! You think you can just insult me and ride me around like some beast of burden?"

Tink: "Yeah, as a matter of fact I do think that! And watch who you call a fly mortal, you'd better watch your tone and start showing some kind of respect!"

Throughout their little spat Dew continues to fly quietly from plant to plant, taking this leisurely stroll as an opportunity to observe and care for new plants, collecting samples for her own glade when this is all over. She stops at a particularly interesting rose bush as the two really start to argue, bringing the party to a temporary stop. She frowns as she observes the roses, cocking her head as she tries to place just what is off about them.

Dew: "Now what do we have here? Hmm, tell me flower, what is troubling you?"

She checks bud after bud, checking the stem and its thorns as she listens carefully to the flower and the magic that maintains it. The rose seems to be suffering from some kind of plague, but not one of the natural world. It has a faint smell of death, the thorns wicked and cruel bent as if attempting to hook onto the flesh of any unwary travelers that happen by. A particularly strange thing to see in Spring, usually this kind of mutation only occurs around plague lands, or undead lords or lichs. Unfortunately, before she can determine the ultimate cause she's brought out of her musings by the high-pitched scream of Jacwyn from behind her. She quickly spins around to witness as a couple squirrels climb, bite and scratch at the young elf, who in turn flails wildly as he tries to throw them off.

Jacwyn: "Ahhh! Get them off you psycho bug! Agh! Damn it, furry bastards!"

Tink stands proudly in the air as she looks down at him, watching as the squirrels torment him.

"Ha! Yes, take that you disrespectful mortal! Next time you'll think twice before you insult a proud member of the fae!"

Dew flushes with fury as she flits up to Tink and shoves a finger into her chest, hissing a harsh whisper at her friend.

Dew: "Are you insane!? Call off the squirrels you idiot!"

Tink: "What? Why? He was disrespectful! You heard him, and we both know we've done far worse for less! He deserves to get humbled a little."

She crosses her arms petulantly, refusing to call off her attack squirrels.

Dew: "Because if anything happens to him then there goes our ticket to freedom! Worse, if Mab figures out it was US that hurt him? Then you can not only forget about a reward or freedom, we'll be lucky if she doesn't turn us to snow or tear off our wings and feed us to a frog or something! Now call off your beasts!"

Tink deflates a little, sinking just a couple inches in the air as her wings slow down, biting her lip as she considers the truth of Dew's words.

"Ok, yeah you're right…"

Just as easy as that the squirrels dart off of Jacwyn, leaving him scratched and bruised, panting for breath as he watches the two rodents scurry off into the woods. He glares up at the two fairies, having completely missed their discussion due to the viscious squirrels.

"Great, now look, I-I'm not going to be able to continue like this you know. Fuck, what if one of those rodents had rabies, or parasites?"

Tink rolls her eyes as she flutters down to hover in front of him, Dew following suit after a moment.

Tink: "Oh don't be a baby, look neither of us are great with medicine or anything like that, but there's a town up ahead. We can stop there and rest, and you can go whining to whatever local healer they have there. Sound good whiny elf?"

Jacwyn looks like he's ready to protest, to pick another fight with the little fairy, but even as Dew elbows her roughly, Jacwyn decides he'd rather not get attacked by those squirrels again.

Jacwyn: "Yeah, yeah fine."

With that Tink and Dew fly ahead, each of them whispering to one another in hushed tones, Jacwyn following behind limping slightly as he presses a hand to one of the deeper cuts on his neck. The two squirrels had really done a number on him, his numerous cuts and open wounds dripped blood behind him, leaving a slight trail for others to follow. Tink and Dew both fly on their own as they walk, Dew still going from plant to plant but keeping Tink close by now. Jacwyn just sighs with frustration, the squirrels didn't do too much, but every step caused another cut to bleed freshly, the dozens of little cuts and bites each their own little source of pain.

Jacwyn: "How much further until we reach this town of yours?"

Tink rolls her eyes but luckily this time, before she could speak Dew shot her a meaningful glance before responding.

Dew: "Not much further, vegetation is starting to thin out a bit, that's usually a pretty good sign that a settlement is near."

Almost as though it had been spoken into being, the group soon found the edge of the forest, and like night turning to day the party was greeted by the sight of a massive settlement. The settlement that looked to normally be a quiet small town for travelers, consisting of few permanent buildings including a tavern, hot springs and a town hall, had boomed into a veritable city of tents, temporary structures, and strange constructions that looked to have been grown from the very ground itself. It wasn't until the Jacwyn stepped past the threshold of the forest that the sight was truly brought to life by sound, suddenly he could hear the guards talking to travelers on the road, the sound of musicians playing for money and attention, merchants hawking their wares to anyone near enough to hear, it brought back memories.

Jacwyn: "Oh wow~. This is amazing, look at all this!"

Jacwyn couldn't help but to chuckle at the sight.

"Ha, I had no idea that there would be actual normal towns here. I half expected all the buildings to be just like, grown out of the trees or something."

Dew gives him a confused look at that, as Tink just sighs with frustration.

Dew: "Really? You thought… but that doesn't make sense. How would tents even, I mean that doesn't really make sense does it?"

Jacwyn blushes and gestures back at the forest but seeing the both of their looks he just shakes his head.

"Right, I suppose not. I guess it's just, nevermind. Come on, let's get to it. Agh, these cuts sting, let's find that doctor you guys were talking about."

With that he begins walking again, Tink avoids Dew's eyes when she glares at her again. Tink then mutters quietly to her, lingering far enough behind their elven charge that he wouldn't hear.

Tink: "Dew, I know you're angry but what do we do here? This was supposed to be a small town, no one to recognize him! How are we supposed to make sure no one else tries to claim the reward?"

Dew bites her lip and shakes her head. Watching Jacwyn with concern, trying to think of what they could do, at least what they could do without alerting him.

Dew: "I don't know. Look, what we do is keep an eye on him, and just, do our best. Just don't let your guard down and be ready to run."

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seaswalllow · 3 years

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concept below :P

snippet one is mostly establishing format, snippet two, though... ;]

> User: E@>>J registered.

> Audio components active. Visuals active.

The camera's screen flickers. It is held in a surprisingly steady hand, although its wielder is excitable- and loud. As the pixels resolve themselves into a grainy picture that steadily sharpens, you can make out grass underfoot.

Shadows flicker on the edges. They resolve, too, into the shadows of two other boys.

> User: EF33@ registered.

> User: C2?3@@ registered.

The voices of all three fade in.

> "-did you bring the extra flashlights? Batteries? Snacks?"

The camera-holder scoffs. From your angle, you can see him dig the toe of a scuffed sneaker into the earth.

> "Yes, I did. Water, too. I'm not an idiot."

Speculative noises arise from his companions. He pans the camera up aggressively, zooming in on the shorter one who makes direct eye-contact and shrugs.

> "You're excitable."

The taller one seems more careful with his words. This earns another aggressive- relatively over the top- scoff.

> "And you're a bitch, Ranboo. Ranboob."

> "Well now that was just uncalled for-"

Ranboo's protests are overlapped by the camera-holder walking forward, and beginning to talk.

> "Let's get going! It'll be nighttime by the time we get there, and you'll want to go back because you're a little bitch-"

> "Because we don't want to break our necks-"

The camera is snatched amidst the argument; the camera flips enough for you to see that it is the other boy waving to you.

> "While they argue, we'll keep walking. We're walking down to this ravine that Tommy had found."

As he speaks, he briefly pans over to the boy arguing with Ranboo, before returning to the path in front of them. In front of you, the woods loom. This close to the edge, sunlight dapples the floor.

The boys overhear him, and their arguing seems to cease. Tommy speeds up to walk in front of the camera.

> "Tommy, is there anything that you wanted to tell us about the ravine?"

> "It's haunted, bitch."

This draws a yelp from their companion. Tommy's expression twitches with a barely concealed smile; neither the camera holder nor Ranboo seem as amused. The camera holder skirts around a tree, and you watch as a squirrel scuttles past.

> "What do you mean, haunted? Tommy, what do you mean haunted?"

> "There's no way that it's haunted. You're trying to get a spook out of us."

Ranboo and the camera holder's complaints overlap. Tommy waves a hand dismissively at the camera.

> "Take a look and find out, Tubbo. There's supposedly a sad little man who wanders around the place, playing with the lanterns-"

This time, the camera pans up again to Ranboo, who shakes his head at it.

> "This is going to end so badly."

> "It'll be fine! Just don't pussy out and run off on your own!"

A huff sounds from behind you. Tubbo pans the camera around to catch more of the forest; here, the undergrowth sprawls wildly about the floor, and it nearly trips Tommy up. Birdsong grows fainter, and fainter, and Ranboo rubs at his arms.

> "Should I turn the camera off until we get there? I'll save its batteries."

> "We brought extra, it'll be fine!"

> "Besides, if we end up getting murdered in the forest, at least someone can stumble onto the camera-"

> "Someone's just gonna leave the camera behind, right-"

The three boys' arguments overlap each other, but Tubbo does not shut the camera off.

Tommy brings the group to a stop in front of a hill. From behind Ranboo, you can't see why they've halted; when Tubbo pans the camera around, you can see the cave entrance.

The sunlight hardly reaches you here, thick as the canopy is. It doesn't stretch much further into the cavern.

Tommy pulls out a torch, and flicks it on. Ranboo does not follow suit; Tubbo does.

> "So this is the ravine. It goes down a passage, and then supposedly opens up."

> "I still say this is a bad, bad idea. We are going to break something, we are going to get murdered-"

> "We'll be fine. We're three big men, we can take whatever bitches try to jump us. I'll just flex- and punch them-"

> "And break your hand."

Tubbo sounds amused; Ranboo has hesitantly taken out a torch and flicked it on.

> "You go on then, bossman. You want to show us this badly, you go first."

> "Fine! Fine."

Tommy steps into the cavern; the camera is panned down to note that the floor dips down immediately within the entrance. He forges on, further, gravel crackling underfoot.

The party pauses at indentations in the floor, scrapes around it- Tommy pokes it with a foot. The camera zooms in on it.

> "Looks like somebody hollowed out this place at least a little. Did you say that this place was manmade?"

> "Well, somebody had to have found it if there's a fucking ghost here."

> "If there's a ghost here, then someone died, and we shouldn't be here at all!"

Tommy does not answer, having moved on. Tubbo only pans the camera to Ranboo- your view bobs, presumably from a shrug.

> "Come look! I found the way down, look at how cool that is-"

The camera just catches Tommy sliding into a crack in the wall, and beginning to make his way downwards. Tubbo follows. He makes a surprised sound, and points you at the stairs.

The very clearly manmade stairs. They are unevenly hewn out, and although Tubbo doesn't slip, you can hear Tommy swear up ahead as he grabs at the walls for support.

> "Definitely manmade."

Ranboo's voice does not sound terribly excited with this revelation. Tommy has stopped firing back particularly acerbic retorts- Tubbo silently zooms in on his white-knuckled grip on the torch and doesn't say another word.

> "How deep can this go? We've been in here for what feels like hours-"

The camera jerks up sharply at Tommy's loud swear, and you come to an abrupt stop. Tommy steadies himself for balance on the floor, and the camera peeks around him, Ranboo whistling under his breath.

The three beams of light play over the expanse yawning below them; pathways arch, thin and winding, between the cavern walls. Tommy's light lingers over a lantern, rusted and long-burnt out, before it wanders further down to the floor. Below them, something clicks, once, twice, three times. A rock, presumably, hitting the floor as they enter the path.

Ranboo's, meanwhile, explores the pathway that sprawls in front of them and follows it down. The camera flicks between both, before Tubbo starts cautiously following the path in turn.

> "So somebody clearly was here. They spent lots of time here if this wasn't- natural."

Tubbo's light flicks to a wooden pathway, rotted through.

> "No way all of this was natural, bossman."

Distantly, Ranboo can be heard muttering under his breath. Whatever it is, it is worried; but it's too quiet to be distinct.

By now, Tubbo is halfway down the path. Closer to the ravine floor, more cracks can be seen in the walls.

As one of their lights wander across the walls, Ranboo clears his throat.

> "Guys. Guys, are those- what is that in the walls? Buttons?"

Tubbo hops the last distance off, and wanders closer to one. The camera, grainy as it is in the low light, zooms in on one of the little square mechanisms. It's wood, and oddly smooth, despite the rot that's wormed its way in.

> "Sure seems like it."

> "You should press it."

Quick as a flash, Tommy comes up behind him, and presses it. Other than a gentle click, despite Ranboo's scandalized hiss, nothing happens. It pops back into place.

> "Next question: why're there so many of these?"

> "Someone was bored, probably."

Tommy's peeled off again, turning in a circle. Tubbo zooms the camera in on a crack in the wall.

> "Is this an actual cave system?"

Tommy moves ahead of him, peeking into the crack. Crack is inaccurate- more like an opening, oddly tall enough and spacious enough for two of them to fit through comfortably.

> "...This isn't a fucking cave."

Tommy disappears into it, and Ranboo hovers outside. His attention is drawn somewhere deeper into the ravine- Tubbo zooms in on him.

> "Shadows got to you?"

> "I thought I saw something."

Even in the low light, Ranboo's troubled expression is easy to make out. Tubbo swings the camera around to follow where he stares. The torch cuts deep enough to come across the other wall- not a single thing moves.

Tubbo swings the camera back to Ranboo.

> "Here, you follow Tommy, and I'll go behind."

> "For you to spook me too?"

Nonetheless, Ranboo does follow Tommy in. Tubbo pans the camera a last time down in the direction he was staring in- nothing. A rusted lantern swings in a breeze.

Odd, that. A breeze in a cave.

The view lingers on it, and when it's pulled away, seems grainier than normal.

> "This is an actual room. This isn't a cave. Someone made this room."

Tubbo zooms in on more scratches in the side of the wall. Some of it looks like somebody was hacking away at the walls. Others...

> "What, someone hacked out this room, and went- hold up, hold up. What the fuck is this shit on the ground?"

Their footsteps don't echo here, muffled by what appears to be softer ground. As multiple torches are pointed down, Ranboo crouches down, and pokes at it, before taking a handful. Dirt trickles through his fingers.

> "Did someone just- just haul down some dirt to shove into a random cave room? What kind of- who made this place?"

None of the others have answers for him; Tubbo crouches as well, and digs his hands deeper. He does not meet stone anywhere underneath.

> "It goes deep, too. Wonder why."

Tommy ducks out of the room; his footsteps echo as his feet meet stone once more.

> "There's more further down the hall. There's- guys. Guys, come look."

This time, his confusion sounds tangible.

The camera is lifted back up to eye level, as they follow his voice, into another room.

> "That is very clearly a bed. That is a bed. That is a table. And a chair across the room. Did- there was somebody living down here."

> "Tommy, what kind of ravine did you take us into?"

Tubbo takes the camera closer to the bed. Most of the fabric is long gone, eaten away by moisture and insects. The wood creaks as he reaches out a foot to nudge it.

The table is in no better condition. Tommy attempts to lean on it, only to jump away as it creaks.

> "They're definitely not here. Right? Why would you even live down here? How?"

The camera bobs with Tubbo's shrug.

> "Maybe this was like... someone's secret base."

> "In the middle of a ravine, in the middle of the forest?!"

> "I didn't say it was normal!"

> "We should leave."

Outside, the lantern chains gently scrape together, again. Ranboo jumps, and Tommy shoves him with a shoulder.

> "Calm down. Whoever was here is clearly long gone- and if we see a ghost, we have some cool footage!"

> "Or we just- don't mess with them because we don't know what would've killed them down here."

> "But ghosts, Ranboo. Ghosts!"

By now, they're ducking out of the room. Ranboo continues to look back behind him; Tommy continues to walk further into the ravine.

Above them, the wooden pathways creak, and all three freeze.

The torchlight reveals nothing.

> "You've already gotten enough footage."

For all of Ranboo's efforts, Tommy keeps going, poking his head into cracks and walking up roughly hewn stairs.

> "Bossman, Ranboo might be right. It's time to go, we spent a good part of the day already."

Tommy's grumbles float back up to you, but he rejoins not long after.

It's at this point that they begin maneuvering back.

The footage is fuzzier than ever. Tubbo hums, disgruntled, and the view jostles; presumably as he lightly smacks it.

> "Something wrong?"

> "The footage's gone all weird; it's even shittier than before."

> "Give it here."

The camera switches hands; your view sweeps across the ravine ceiling, faintly catching four shadows. Tommy flips the camera over, presumably examining it by torchlight.

> "That's weird. Maybe the lighting's got to it. Or maybe it's the ghosts."

A faint thud sounds, Tommy letting out a huff.

> "Don't fucking- elbow me, you're like double my height-"

> "Don't try to freak us out!"

> "Okay, let's go, boys."

Tubbo's interruption breaks up the bubbling argument, as he takes the camera and starts back to the path. The view is slowly panned around them.

> "Nothing now, see? It's just you freaking out, Ranboo."

> "Or maybe whoever it is heard that we're leaving."

Ranboo is vocally displeased with the idea of Tubbo's suggestion. Tommy only snickers.

No other banter is picked up.

> "Look, there's that weirdass bridge again. It won't hold my weight, will it?"

> "No, definitely not, Tommy. It's been God knows how many years."

The camera sweeps back to face Tommy, who has a single foot gently testing the weight of the bridge. Ranboo hovers nervously to the side.

Behind Tommy, on the film, through the increasing static, a faint figure pulls itself up from where it was dangling its legs over the side. The camera freezes where it is.

> "Tommy. Tommy- are any of you seeing this? On the bridge?"

The figure pauses. So do the boys- they look at the bridge, and then back at Tubbo.

> "There's nothing there. See?"

The flashlight plays over the bridge, passing through the figure watching them. Faintly, a trenchcoat can be made out. A tattered sweater.

> "That- Ranboo. Come here. Look."

Gravel crackles to the side, and a sharp intake of breath can be heard; presumably as Ranboo approaches.

> "Tommy, get away from the bridge. Get over here."

Tommy moves towards the camera. The figure stops moving towards Tommy.

> "Oh, what the fuck. What the fuck."

The camera zooms, slightly. With three torches now focused on the figure, more details of the patches on the coat emerge. The man wearing it- he's folding his arms, staring them down.

From further down the bridge, a fourth voice echoes.

> "Hasn't anybody taught you boys not to play on rotting fucking bridges?"

#dream smp #tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #wilbur soot #found footage au #boys explore pogtopia babeyyyy #this became a whole fucking fic lmao #im also tired so thats how far im taking this concept <3 i may or may not do a follow up depending

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dreamylyfe-x · 3 years

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of all the things they could make mickey and ian fight over, why are the writers going with 2 so OOC storylines in the final season? the show never framed ian as seeing mickey's illegal income as not "real" work before. and mickey was never the slacker type, so why now? and mickey would never vague about monogamy. i'm so confused. if they gotta fight, why not over something in character and meaningful. this just feels like writers being mean to the fans, making us sit thru all this nonsense

Hey! Thanks for the ask. Made my (very weird and stressful) day.

I’m going to be disappointing right off the jump and say that I don’t actually think any of this is OOC, per say. But. In GENERAL. Shameless is not the show it was. I think this is very normal for long-running shows. Take Friends: When you get into the back half of that show’s extensive catalogue, is starts to feel like the characters are a Xerox of a Xerox. Early season Monica is a bit OCD, and a clean freak who loves to be in charge -- but she’s also warm, and hospitable and emotionally available to her friends. Late season Monica is often a coked-out squirrel-woman who loses her mind if someone moves a pillow. That’s quality isn’t out of character, but it’s no longer being balanced with the warm and supportive woman we initially met. I think a bit of that might be “we already know you either like or hate Monica, so we’re just giving you the stuff that’s funny and/or dramatic. We got 22 minutes and six characters and we don’t have to build that other shit anymore.”

I think that’s happening with Mickey and Gallavich. And I don’t think that’s weird for a) a show that has run this long and b) a character who was gone and then returned. They are giving us a Mickey that has always existed -- unbound by traditional manners, aggressive, blunt and obsessed with Ian Gallagher -- but we aren’t getting much of the Mickey who curls up with Ian at the worst time of his life and kisses his forehead. We aren’t getting all the verbal confirmation of Big Feelings they gave us when he came back in season 7. We aren’t seeing Ian and Mickey as a team, which is a big part of their mid-seasons dynamic. I think that makes people feel like these arguments are OOC, when they’re arguably reasonable issues, but aren’t being given a ton of nuance, or balance.

Aside: There’s some balance in how the actors are playing the intimacy and the physical affection. The little touches and kisses are appreciated by me.

So to dig into the OOC stuff -- first of all, it makes total sense to me that they’d have issues about the role crime plays in their lives together. I love that Ian never gave a damn that Mickey is a straight up criminal. But every time Ian lost Mickey, it was because the law intervened. When Mickey is not incarcerated, he’s with Ian. Ian is no longer 16, no one is a juvenile offender, Mickey was given a devastating sentence in season 6 -- 16 years -- Ian was 18! That was his entire living memory, if not more. They are married now, against considerable odds, and I completely understand why Ian doesn’t want Mickey to risk going back to jail.

Likewise, I get why Mickey doesn’t want to do what Ian is doing. Mickey does not have the temperament for minimum wage jobs. He has a longstanding history of thinking it’s absolute bullshit to work hard for no money. Particularly when he’s smart enough, skilled enough and ballsy enough to make a LOT of money in an afternoon just by spotting an opportunity.

Mickey has never SAID this on the show, but in canon we have seen him go to prison four times. Once, because Ian’s unhinged spurned groomer shot him; once because Mickey CHOSE to headbutt a cop so he could go to prison and avoid his dad; once because Mickey was consumed with a need to avenge Ian; and finally because Ian got himself tossed in prison, so Mickey CHOSE to join him. If Mickey has confidence that he won't go to prison if Ian isn’t a factor... Not the craziest idea.

So -- writers spitballing ideas for Gallavich conflict? I think that’s a pretty good one. Two clear sides that both have merit. I’ve already written a bit about my thoughts on the monogamy issues... first, I’ve always figured they were monogam-ish, to reference Dan Savage. They are faithful to each other while they’re together, and when they are separated (usually by prison!) they aren’t. This isn’t the first time Mickey has voiced a lack of interest in being monogamous -- most notably “Great. Now we’re in a horror movie.” Mickey isn’t a traditionalist and I don’t think he feels like this is a make-or-break issue. But MOSTLY?

MOSTLY.

I really and truly believe what I’m about to say...

Mostly Mickey wanted to do what Ian wanted.

If he legit didn’t want monogamy he wouldn’t have tried to cheat of Ian’s paper. He didn’t like that “write it down and flip the paper” game. He wanted to match Ian’s answer. So he took a guess and he was wrong about what Ian -- who had literally just told him he found the concept of the rest of his life overwhelming -- had written.

This is my head cannon: I think he liked that Ian wrote down monogamy. This is not my head canon: they are SUPER sweet to each other in the next scene. I am not convinced that the monogamy debate is going to be much of a thing beyond that scene. And I understand that, for a lot of people, that scene was extremely unpleasant. To me, personally, it made sense for it to come up. But I think it’s settled. I think they’re done with it.

The one place where I’m like “What is this?” is the slacker stuff. I mean, I can meta why Mickey might be afraid of failure or whatever, but it’d be mostly head cannon. They haven’t given us a ton to build on there. The best we got is “Stop disappointing the people you love!” being what motivated Mickey to do something he didn’t want to do. But Mickey was right, if he thought that interview was going to be a disaster. Mickey knows himself and he is painfully aware of his limitations.

As for why are the writers DOING this? Well. Ok. Here’s what I think it is:

1. Story is conflict. So they needed one. And “struggle to adjust to marriage” really isn’t a bad one. Specifically, figuring out how to be married when you have no role models and have a few social strikes against you is a good one.

2. The writers are amused by Gallavich fighting. They think it’s entertaining. And while there are a lot of people out there for whom Gallavich is EVERYTHING, Shameless’s viewership is also made up of people who think Frank is hilarious. No one ever send me an ask about why Frank is hilarious. I will not be able to figure that one out and the research might kill me. We definitely don’t all agree on what is and is not funny.

3. They’re going somewhere with it. At least a little.

I don’t KNOW three is true, but here’s something I believe about John Welles. I think he’s a biiiiit of a sap. I think he probably wants to leave each Gallagher with something nice. I don't think his plan it to send everyone off on an ice floe to freeze to death. So I think (hope?) that what we’re going to see is three (maybe four?) episodes of Gallavich At Odds and then I think we’re going to move into them trying to work together to make lives together. And they will probably still fight, because that seems to be part of the Xerox of a Xerox of Gallavich. I’m sure many people will find that cringey and problematic and annoying -- but I also bet we get a few moments we love, here and there.

I don’t think they’re trying to be mean to the fans, but I think it’s serving 8 characters ... Nope. 9. (I forgot Frank. I always forget about Frank.) ... and we aren’t going to get the depth and breadth we want. And most of that will be on the side where we see Gallavich loving each other, because at this point they expect us to KNOW that. And some of it’ll be Mickey’s internal life because they tend to focus on the Gallaghers. But I do fervently hope we get a little more of that other side of the coin. Because I absolutely agree that one side is more fun than the other.

#thank you anon!#that was very long #welcome to me #asks #gallavich #shameless season 11

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cosmic-lavender · 3 years

Text

Stability Chapter 10

Otis Driftwood x Reader

Author note: Yes this is another flashback chapter, I had so much fun doing the last chapter I decided to expand more. This chapter is pretty long so thanks for sticking with the story so far💜

You're 21 now and looking out the window at the beautiful orange and deep red sunset. It's been 3 years since the incident at the bar. And since then the family has told you more about the comings and goings that happened there. You of course were shocked at first and widely taken aback.Your moral compass was definitely damaged considering the fact that you were very biased to the family due to the fact that you were pretty much part of this family.

They never asked you to participate but now that you were aware of the knowledge that they were hiding from you they hid it a lot less. though this sounds like this would have been an inconvenience It actually was quite refreshing because now you felt that you had more freedom walking around the house and there was less censorship in your presence.

You even started working at Captain's Spalding's gas station a couple days a week, who himself was thrilled at the fact that you were now aware of what was going on and that you seem to be taking it very well. "I always had a feeling you did alright with weird" he said. "I remember that time you brought home that squirrel skeleton with the baby and you tried to glue it back together or something. That's when I was like this girl's going to be either a taxidermy or some weird shit". You laughed spraying more Windex on the display case. "How's your old man by the way? ``he asked, counting the money in the drawer. This is pretty much the only gas station that your father used when he was filling up in between his truck stops.

"You tell me he talks to you a lot more than he talks to me. I actually haven't seen him for maybe a week and a half." "Oh well now little darling don't get sad your old man's a good man. He just doesn't know how to be a daddy you know?". You just hummed in agreement, not really wanting to go any further on the subject." I'm sad about finishing up the last of my courses at that school a couple cities away What are you going to do without me here?" You said in a chuckle to hide the fact you were incredibly sad about leaving the family.

"Well shit I'm going to be lost without ya but it won't be long before you're back". "I asked Baby and Otis to come and see me. They said they'll try but Otis said he doesn't like to be seen out in public too much especially in a big city. I mean I get it but I'm going to miss them and you of course". You stood up and brushed off your pants, sighing deeply. "Yeah Otis is not one for being in the city You might be able to get Baby to come down it's hard to get her to focus and she's not really a good driver but I'll try to bring them down at least once to see you and I'll try to call you you know and feel free to call me at anytime You know my number you know where I'm at." He walked around the counter and gave you a big hug "we need at least one of us in this family to be educated so you go get them smarts".

The day you packed up your truck Baby helped you, You told her that you were in a hurry so you couldn't wait for Otis to get done with whatever he was doing to say goodbye and that you'll call the house later. Truth be told there was a lump growing in your throat at the thought of leaving. The two of you had only gotten closer,late nights of him showing you his work and talking to you about anything really that popped into his mind. You also notice how jealous you got when you knew he was out with one of Charlie's girls.

You also noticed that whenever you brought up any boys that you may have seen around town that might be attractive he always scoffed and said "there ain't no good boys in this town bunch of fucking idiots". You would secretly hope that's because he was jealous but you weren't sure if it's due to jealousy or the fact that he was just protective of you.

You settled into your classes pretty fast even making a couple friends in some of them. After about 3 to 4 months you would call the house every weekend and talk to the baby for hours. You would also talk to Otis but he was usually interrupted by being yelled at by someone mostly doing the yelling. He never brought up if he had any attraction to you and you decided it wasn't good to bring it up either You're silly schoolgirl crush was probably just that and you just started to accept that I mean he was so much older than you What would he want in you? He probably saw you as a child.

You had struck up an acquaintance ship with an attractive young man in your political science class. Due to being an accelerated semester you were only going to be in the course with each other for about 3 months. You came to find out that his name was Dayton and that he was very smart. At the end of the semester he has asked you on a date, you told him you had to think about it, a small flash of hurt appeared across his face "it's not that there's anything wrong with you it's just I don't know if I have time to date anybody right now and I'm late calling home I will give you a ring later though okay?" You asked heading toward your room "ok y/n um yeah call me whenever" he said and headed the opposite way. when you reach the back to your dorm you rang the Firefly's house, discuss what you learned today in political science with Otis. Mama Firefly answered when you called, she was over the moon to hear from you.

After talking for a while you asked her if Otis was home, because you had agreed to talk at 6:30. "Oh I'm sorry sugar dumpling but he's at Charlie's but Baby is home wanna talk to her?" Your stomach twisted, he blew off your phone conversation to go fuck a whore? Well that cleared up anything you were wondering about how he felt.. "Actually Mama, I think I have someone on call waiting. Can you tell Baby I'll call her tomorrow?" "Sure thing honey we miss you!" "Miss you too mama" you hung up the phone and called another number "hey Dayton I think I am free for dinner after all".

When Otis returned home he immediately hurried over where the phone was. Was he too late? She said 8:30 right? He rang your dorm number before hanging it up hard when you didn't answer. Fuck it he thought and headed to the kitchen for a beer. "Oh Otis!" Y/n called for you I told her you were at Charlie's" Mama's voice ran out from the living room as he passed.

"Wait when did she call and you told her what?!" He angrily asked whipping his head out "I was out with Cutter and it was 8:30 she was supposed to call" " mmm hmm well honey she said 6:30 but then she said she said she had another call so she's gonna call back tomorrow" she replied looking back toward her show. He swallowed his annoyance and stomped back upstairs after grabbing his beer, god why the fuck did he care?! And why did he rush over here just to shoot the shit with you on the phone.. "god dammit" he thought to himself "fucking God dammit".

The date went well to your surprise, dinner was lovely followed by a fun conversation (or debate) depending on who you ask. You started to wonder if you had wasted time pining over the idea of Otis being interested in you and maybe you should focus on someone your own age. You didn't call the house for the rest of the week, Baby left some messages on your answering machine as well as Spalding. Nothing from Otis though, A small part of you was disappointed. You eventually called Baby back and you had told her how you went on a date with a nice young man. She was happy for you and wanted to hear every detail. You asked about Otis and she said he was in a mood right now so it's best not to bug him.

Otis had walked by the room when he heard Baby talking to you on the phone, He heard that you had gone out with a young man. Good for her he thought, the sooner I get the idea of her out of my head the better she's a fucking kid anyway. He decided to head to Charlie's and relieve some tension. He thought he got you out his head at least for the time being, that was until he found himself picking the girl who had your hair color, your eyes and around the same height. Walking into the prostitutes room he pictured your face, god dammit he thought to himself as he shut the door behind him.

You had gone on a couple more dates with Dayton. So far he had been a perfect gentleman. One night after a particularly wonderful date You had both ended up back at your place. You've never gone fully all the way You had kissed and stuff a couple of boys around town but nothing ever lasted, You were nervous and you let him know that you were not experienced in this department. He kept reassuring you that it was going to be fine and that he would take care of you. It almost seemed like he was rushing you a bit to not change your mind but you decided that he was just happy to be close to you.

You ended up going all the way with him but throughout the ordeal it was not as exciting as you thought it would be. He seemed to be more focused on getting himself off than focusing on you, halfway through you thought to yourself that you would wish he would hurry up.( He was way smaller than he led you to believe *eye roll*.)You also noticed that at one point you found yourself imagining Otis on top of you.. saying you were conflicted was definitely an understatement.

After that night he left in the morning after falling asleep right after he finished. You got up to the shower and looked at yourself in the mirror. You thought back to the night at the bar and all the other nights that he would spend at the house. You felt so homesick for everyone although your time here in college was fun and you're glad that you experienced it You were starting to wonder if this was really where you wanted to be. The days following after you and Dayton had been intimate you noticed the change in him he was starting to become more aggressive. The sweet demeanor that he had was slowly disappearing to someone who was controlling and short-tempered. He was starting to insist that he stayed over every night even when you told him that you had studying to do and that you did not want to be distracted. He had pressured you for sex again to which you declined and said that you are still recovering from your last session. He began to grow more impatient, He also started to dictate what he wanted you to wear and what he wanted you to eat.

At this point it only been about 3 weeks since you guys had become a couple. You decided that it was moving too fast. The final straw was when you were about to eat a bagel and he slapped it out of your hand and said Don't you think you've had enough? You're gaining a little bit of weight. You hadn't told anyone at the house about the situation because you didn't want them to worry, now that the semester was ending you decided that it was time to head back home and decide what you want to do with your life.You weren't as happy here as you thought you were going to be.

You decided to break the news to Dayton that you wanted to just remain friends You made sure to tell him while you were on the way to class so he would have a reason not to linger and make a scene because he was starting to show he also has signs of having an anger problem.He would have outbursts at the most smallest things and seemed to blame you for them. After telling him that you just wanted to be friends you hurried away from him before he could start an argument You could see the anger and confusion and his eyes but you knew you had to get away before he got upset. Part of was worried that he would hit you but you also thought maybe you were being paranoid either way you didn't want to take that chance so you hurried away from him as soon as possible You felt bad about breaking up with him this way but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Heading back to your room You saw that the phone was ringing You assumed it was Dayton so you decided not to answer it You were already tired and stressed enough You didn't really didn't want to have a debate about the relationship. The machine picked it up "ah hey there kitten or ah y/n guess I shouldn't call you that no more cus you got a boyfriend I and I don't know if he's the jealous type or whatever and all, anyway just wanted to see how ya doing and if you forgot us rednecks over here, I guess I'll let…" it was Otis! Hearing his voice your heart skipped a beat you nearly fell right on your face rushing to grab the phone. "Hey! Hi Otis'' you were out of breath from running to grab the phone but tried to chill out so he didn't notice. "I'm glad you called I've missed you". "I've missed you too darlin. How's the big ol fancy city treating you? Ain't the same without you here Baby is driving me nuts man".

You hadn't noticed until you felt a cold wet tear hit your hand that you were crying. Hearing his voice had ripped at your heart more intensely than you had anticipated..fuck you missed him. "I'm thinking about coming home for a while I actually might be able to submit my final paper through the mail but maybe you can look over it it's political science so you know stupid government stuff but thought you'd be interested". You said that last sentence so fast it nearly took all your breath. "Shit I would love too when you come home? I gotta make sure I get all my projects out the way so we can dedicate the entire afternoon to it. I'm sure there's a lot I have to unteach you about what they're trying to tell you is the truth". You laughed there was the Otis you knew. "Plus I know Baby and mama are gonna be excited for you to come home. They are gonna want to make a big deal." Coming home… that's when it hits you… that was home they were home.

"Well I was thinking" your sentence got interrupted by a very aggressive knock on the door. "Oh ah hold on Otis That might be campus security they seem to be knocking on the door very hard". He walked over to open the door still holding the phone Otis held the phone in his shoulder as he took out his knife and started sharpening it, might as well multitask. "Hi is everything ok officer.. oh hey Dayton" your voice fell at the end Otis heard it too, he sat up a little straighter listening more intensely. "I didn't like how we left our conversation earlier." He stated with his hands in his pockets mo"I understand I may have been kinda mean to you lately and I'm sorry but I think that's over with now, water under the bridge?"

He opened his arms as if to ask for a hug but he also seemed to be clenching his teeth slightly as well trying to hold in his anger, "thank you Dayton that's very sweet and of course no hard feelings thanks for taking this so well, I'm afraid I have to go though I'm on the phone with family but you have a good night" as you went to close the door he stopped it with his foot. "Maybe you don't understand me.. no one rejects me" he snarled trying to push the door more open. "Dayton you should go" you started trying to not look so frightened but truth be told this was terribly frightening. Otis stood up and while holding the phone in his shoulder while looking for his gun,knife and keys. Who the fuck was this kid talking to you like that? He thought to himself, fuck this kid.

That's when his stomach sank and his blood boiled over.. he heard something he never wanted to hear again, you screamed out of fear and dropped the phone "y/n"! He yelled into the phone over and over but you didn't answer. He wasted no time in running downstairs to where Baby was. He was practically screaming in her face what's the name of that college that you're at and what does she know about this kid Dayton. She quickly told him and then asked him what the problem was. He ignored her instead searching for Rufus and telling him that he has something to take care of with him. He grabbed the keys and hurried out of the house. He had never driven so fast in his life, Rufus kept a look out for the cops as they sped down the highway. He didn't really have a plan for when he got there other than he wanted to teach that kid a lesson.

You had dropped the phone to press your entire body weight against the door to prevent Dayton from coming inside your dorm. It was difficult Because he was so much larger than you. "Go away Dayton!!!!" You screamed "someone help someone!!" You frantically repeated hopefully someone would walk by and see the commotion."open the door you bitch!!" He screamed pushing it with all his weight, you leaned down grabbed the phone right as he was able to push his face into the doorway, you hit him as hard as you could in the face with it, he staggered back in pain as you pushed the door fully closed. You grabbed the phone again, "Otis!" You screamed into it before realizing the other line was dead.

Wasting no time to figure out what was happening on his end you dialed campus security. You heard Dayton attempting to break down your door by slamming into it. You started to cry angry frustrated tears. Why can't he just go away?!. "Hello hello is anyone there," campus security asked, finally connecting on the other end. You hurried to explain the situation to campus security who urged you to stay on the line as they came to your dorm. Unfortunately Dayton had run off before they could come. They assured you they would be checking in on you and keeping an eye out for him. You nodded and curled up in the bathroom with the door locked which was the only place you felt safe. "I wish Otis was here" you thought to yourself.

Little did you know he was, his brother and him drove as fast as they could and ended up on the compass in no time. He didn't know what Dayton looked like besides the shitty description from Baby. "What are we gonna do when we find him?" Rufus asked. He was worried about you as well but he didn't want to start something that would get you expelled. "We're not going to do anything but teach the boy a lesson that's all" Otis replied. "Scare him straight".

As much as Otis wanted to do unspeakable things to him Rufus was right This is not the place to do it especially if he was seen associated with you. As luck would have it they happened to see a young man fitting the description who looked like he was in a hurry with some bags and other materials. He seems to be trying to flee the campus as fast as possible. "I think that's our guy" Rufus said.Otis rubbed his hands together in anticipation. They slowly walked over to where he was loading up his small car. Rufus came up behind him and asked him for directions when he turned around to give a snarky response to him just as Otis threw a bag over his head and pulled him into the bushes.

Dayton struggled and tried to scream as Rufus held him, Otis shut him up quickly though pulling out his large hunting knife and pressing it up to his neck. "Hey there you pig faced rat nose son of a bitch, I'ma need you to listen and listen good if you ever so much as breathe in the same direction as y/n again I will cut off your I assume very small balls and shove them down your throat". Dayton didn't answer, he just started to shake and suddenly tears began running down his face. "Oh shit this boy is crying!!! Hahaha! Little pussy ass bitch". Otis laughed pointing at him. Rufus walked over and pointed a gun in his face,"you understand us boy? You come near y/n again it's all bad for you". "I understand" he stuttered over and over again. They grabbed him and pushed him into the mud, exploding in laughter.

Heading back to the truck there laughter echoed throughout the campus. You looked up and could have sworn that you heard a slight hint of Otis'h voice through your bathroom window. "Is that Otis? No no way my mind is making me imagine things''. The next day after getting approval from the Dean that you were able to mail in the rest of your assignment you loaded up your truck and headed back to Ruggsville. Passing the gas station as you entered into town you felt relief wash over you. You were finally home.

#otis driftwood #house of 1000 corpses #three from hell #otis driftwood x reader #otis firefly #thedevilsrejects #the devils rejects

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pl-panda · 4 years

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Damienette arranged marriage: part 25

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 part 14 part 15

part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Part 22 Part 23

Part 24

Damienette arranged marriage: part 25

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Tossing her weapon at him and using some of the moves she learned from maman over the years.

This was like a spark. Immediately after Ladybug’s charge, other heroes also attacked. The battle has begun. At least until there was an ear-piercing cry of pain that got everyone’s attention.

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During previous encounters with the superheroes Mayura had much less trouble. It was clear that Pink Tigress was much better trained. Nathalie herself was a master martial artist even outside of the suit and her skill only increased when she put on the feathered outfit. But this was something entirely different.

Mayura redirected a very quick jab of the Chakram with her fan, but she had no chance to counterattack because Pink Tigress did not lose balance and instead followed up with low kick. The blue villainess jumped up to avoid it and used the opportunity for a scissor kick of her own. Her opponent reacted in time to cross her hands in front and rebound her, but it only led to further stand-off. They proceeded to meet each other in close quarter, exchanging quick, but viscious strikes. They were pretty evenly matched, at least it looked like that for first minute or so. But with each move it became clearer that even if Mayura had skill to back her up, she lacked in terms of deadliness. Tigress was silent and composed as the fight went on, while the peacock miraculous started to panic. It might have been just three minutes at best, but Nathalie found herself at complete defence, being pushed back constantly.

While the two women were fighting between themselves, Chat Noir and Ladybug had their own battle going on. Over the course of last month Marinette trained with her mother to utilize her yo-yo as more than just a simple thrown weapon. Before she didn’t really connect her fighting style with the projectile. It sometimes served as a shield for her to block the attacks but offensively it was much harder to utilize. At least until her mother helped her change perspective. The yo-yo was basically a blunt version of rope dart. She could use it both as a projectile as well as at close range. Sometimes the young girl even grabbed the weapon and used it like a stone to add weight to her attacks.

At the same time, it was clear that Chat Noir did not stop training. Marinette kicked herself over and over that she did not recognize clear fencing training before, but right now it was different. Adrien was now fighting with much more aggression than before. He did not back away or dodge the attacks, instead taking them on the weapon or even forearms or legs. He just pushed ahead. At first Ladybug tried to regain control and momentum she had in the beginning, but this new viciousness force her to stay defencive. She rather quickly got pressed to the wall.

“You don’t deserve to be Ladybug!” Chat Noir shouted at her. “Cataclysm!” The pasisian heroine managed to dodge the last second as the black bubbling energy crashed into the wall. The structure crumbled and cracks started to go up and onto the roof. Adrien turned where Ladybug lunged to to avoid his attack and fumed with anger. “You took everything from me Ladybug! You turned her against me! You corrupted her! But it doesn’t matter. She is the true ladybug and not some imposter. After my father is done I will give her your miraculous and we will be the greatest heroes Paris… No! The Wor…” He didn’t finish his speech because Ladybug lunged and pushed him away as a large chunk of debris fell where he just stood. Marinette could be disgusted with what Adrien has become, but deep down she still saw a friend. A friend she would not let die. In the impact, the ring slipped from his finger and rolled away. Adrien wanted to grab it, but a quick punch from his former partner knocked him out cold.

Elsewhere in the room, Viperion just managed to get the akumatized object. He quickly broke it and released the Akuma, causing the gorilla to fall down exhausted. Luka did not have time to focus on this. He turned to where Ryuko and Hawkmoth were going at it. She was a world-class fencer, but somehow Gabriel Agreste could match her and even overpower her. He was pushing the girl back. Then, he suddenly drawn a hidden sword from his cane and lunged at Ryuko. Without second thought, Viperion tossed his lyre like a frisbee to stop the attack. It worked, but he didn’t notice Mayura and Tigress fight getting dangerously close to him. Before he even realize the blue vilanness held him in front of her like a human shield, making it impossible for him to use second chance.

“Give up Tigress. Or the boy will suffer.” She threatened and to make it more real, she pressed the bladed fan to his neck. “We wouldn’t want to spill any snake blood today, now would we?”

Instead of answering, Pink Tigress tossed her chakram up. The spinning weapon bounced from the roof and fell at Mayura. She had no time to follow up on her threat and instead pushed the boy forward while she jumped back. She did slip the bracelet from his hand at the same time, making him detransform.

Ryuko noted the whole event in the corner of her eye. She was grateful to Luka for helping her, but she would berate the reckless boy later. For someone so composed he rushed in too often. She refocused on her battle. The plan was to keep Hawkmoth busy while other heroes get rid of any support so they could overwhelm the villain. So far it didn’t work as planned. She was on constant defensive.

“Tell me, miss Tsurugi. What would your mother say if she saw you get defeated by a civilian with so little training.” Hawkmoth teased her. “She would be so disappointed in you.” He added in mocking tone. Ryuko withstood the banter without even blinking. She tried to shrug it off, but he started to get to her. He also had to notice that her moves became more sloppy, because Gabriel continued with the mockery. “Or maybe she already resent you for skipping so many classes and trainings to just play hero? I can’t imagine what will she say…” He finally managed to catch her sword in place long enough with his own blade to use the cane he still held in the other hand to strike her arm. The pain made her let go of her weapon, but she made no notable sound. She tried to punch him, but Hawkmoth stepped out of the way and grabbed her choker instead. Kagami detransformed and fell on the ground, panting from exhaustion.

The whole building was falling apart and more debris now landed. A particularly big chunk would crush the fencer, but Sabine noticed in time.

“Power Up! Strength!” She jumped to where the girl stood and stopped her from turing into a wet puddle. At the same time, more chunks fell, cutting them off for the most part.

“Thank you madame.” Kagami bowed while still lying on the ground. “I owe you my life.”

“No worry sweety. Let’s finish it and go skin a cat, okay?” Sabine focused and used her enchanted strength to push the large chunk away and release them. She picked the girl and jumped out.

In front of her, the scene was mortifying. Hawkmoth held blade at Ladybug’s neck while she was forced to kneel before him. Next to him, Mayura had Luka in similar position.

“I think that was enough of the show.” The villain commented. You’ve all proven just how strong and heroic you are… But it ends here.” He was about to grab the earrings of Ladybug, but she started to toss around.

“Hold still girl if you want to see your friend and yourself walk out of here alive!” Mayura threatened her. To enforce the point made by his partner, Hawkmoth pressed the blade closer, drawing some blood. A single droplet traveled along the edge and hit the floor. The heroine felt her whole body go stiff with fear. She silently accepted her fate when suddenly there was an ear-piercing cry of pain behind her. The blade, together with hand that was holding it, fell to the ground. Hawkmoth stumbled holding the stump that used to be his hand. Behind him Damian wiped the blood from his blade.

“Leave. My Wife. Alone!” He barked and turned to Mayura. “The game is over.”

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Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25 @tired-butterfly @toodaloo-kangaroo @redscarlet95 @miukiiu @sassakitty @corabeth11 @vixen-uchiha @lilypos03

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positivlyfocused · 3 years

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Nature Shows Me Love When I Better My Happy

This morning probably was the best result I received so far from my Positively Focused practice. It’s an extraordinary result showing how Universe delights the one who finds alignment with their better, happy place.

I woke this morning feeling joy so deep, I didn’t want to get out of bed. I felt at one with All That Is, and that feeling left me in peace, wherein all was right with everything. And in that, I felt struck in All That Is’ beauty, grace and love.

But when someone experiences such deep and profound spiritual experiences, Universe inspires movement because such movement leads to more and better experiences. Experiences confirming that blessed universal connection.

That’s exactly what happened next.

Joy and fun to come

I got an impulse to go for a walk. The impulse came with a sense of urgency, like I mustn’t ignore it. So I got up, did my morning routine and headed out the door.

A few weeks ago I wrote about an amazing experience had in a nearby park. It involved seeing a raptor in the trees with feathers dancing through the air like snow fall. Then a guy walked by who amplified that wonderful experience with a story of his own.

The park where this happened was where my inspiration directed me this morning. As I walked I had no idea what lie ahead. I only knew how good I felt and how wonderful the day unfolded up to now, even though it was only 7:30 in the morning.

The park was mine. No one else walked the walking paths, played in the grassy expanses, walked among the roses, or sat in the pavilion. My favorite music played in my headphones while the sun shone from my right, its warmth heating the day.

Halfway through the park, despite my headphones, I heard a sound I hadn’t heard before. It was a kind of screech. Even though my headphones muffled it, the sound caught my attention. So much so I made a bee-line straight to where I thought it originated.

The compulsion to follow that sound was so strong, I felt kind of odd, like I wasn’t in charge of my movements. It drew me to a spot in the park I rarely frequent.

That’s when it happened

I heard the sound again, then looked into the trees while turning off my music. The draw of this impulse felt extreme as it pulled me right underneath a medium-sized tree. That impulse drew my vision to the lower-most branch, which swung very low from the tree’s trunk.

There, perched on the branch, was an accipiter known as a Goshawk. I didn’t know the word “accipiter” in that moment. Nor did I know the Bird of Prey as a Goshawk. I thought is was a Sharp-Shinned Hawk or perhaps a falcon. Either way, the sight stunned me.

Little did I know, this was just the beginning.

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^^My joyful adventure started with this sighting.

Accipiters are Birds of Prey specifically evolved for successful life in dense forests. These birds are slender with short, broad, rounded wings and a long tail which helps them maneuver in tight areas such as forests. They have long legs and long, sharp talons used to kill their prey, and a sharp, hooked bill used in feeding. They often ambush their prey, mainly small birds and mammals, capturing them after a short chase. They are commonly found in wooded or shrubby areas.

I’ve always adored Birds of Prey, specifically Red Tailed Hawks and Sparrowhawks. Since moving to Oregon, however, my love of raptors expanded. I also love seeing Bald Eagles and Osprey, which populate Oregon’s scenic waterways.

But I never expected to see such birds in Portland’s city parks. This was astounding!

Watching this bird on the branch, I felt awe. But what happened next left me in stunned.

It was good, but got better

While filming the video above, the hawk suddenly disappeared from view. I stopped shooting to find it, but saw it nowhere in trees around me. That’s when my instinct took over, turned my head left and downward.

The hawk landed on the ground just feet from my…feet! Here’s a video of me in rapturous joy as I caught the moment on video:

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^^It lands right at my feet! Listen to my joy!

This is incredible, I thought! Understanding how amazing this moment was requires understanding a little about Northwestern Goshawks.

Of the three U.S. and Canadian hawks known as accipiters, the Goshawk is by far the most impressive. As far as accipiters are concerned, they are the largest and most aggressive. Goshawks are favored for falconry the world over. According to state write-ups, Oregon offers limited permits for taking Goshawks for falconry purposes. I met someone with such a permit once. His specimen is exquisite even though I don’t think it’s a Goshawk. I mean, must look at this photo I took!

^^A bird of prey “taken” for falconry by a local falconer. I took this photo last summer at a local school. The owner used the playground as a training camp.

What impressed me most about Goshawks, and my seeing one specifically, is this: It is an uncommon to fairly common bird in Oregon. But they’re usually found in wilderness areas ranging between 1,900 – 6,100 foot elevations along the Cascade, Blue, and Klamath mountains. Even so, here I was face-to-face….or foot-to-foot with one in a city park!

It gets better still!

Just as the bird flew off, I heard another screech, the distinctive sound a Goshawk makes, that now sounds familiar to my ears. This one came from behind me. I turned around and saw anotherGoshawk, only this one fed on a bird it must have caught earlier this morning.

^^A Goshawk manages its kill in on a nearby branch. Astounding!

That’s two separate birds in the same area!

Then I heard yet another screech, again, behind me. When I turned around, I stood literally astounded. For there in front of me were four hawks. Three of them stood on the ground, the fourth on a brach above the others. What were they doing? Playing with sticks!

They threw sticks, tossed seed pods and even stepped on each other’s tails! Never had I seen such playfulness in Birds of Prey. I felt absolutely blessed seeing this display, again, in a city park.

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^^Watch as these Goshawks play. At the end, one even playfully steps on its companion’s tail! Hilarious!

It turned out I was amidst an entire family of hawks. They played and ate from the same kill. They even chased crow and squirrel in front of me. Two even played with each other on a nearby car rooftop.

Joyful nature communion

For the next two hours I watched as these hawks put themselves on display for me. Once, one hawk perched on a tree, looked at me. Then, with no notice, it flew straight at me, swooping over my head close enough for me to touch. I felt I had gone to hawk heaven!

After filming, I noticed bird and squirrel carcasses in this area, particularly under the tree where one of the hawks fed. Apparently, they had been here some time. But my Broader Perspective coordinated this moment, these two blissful hours, for me to commune with these natural, graceful predators.

^^Carcass from a previous meal.

I tell my clients all the time that when one develops a Positively Focused perspective such that they chronically live in a state of alignment to the beauty of life, nature becomes one’s deliberate partner. It reveals to the Positively Focused its “secrets”. Animals people rarely, if ever, see come out and play, putting themselves on display for one who takes time to tune themselves back to their natural knowing.

I’ve seen coyote families, with pups playing alongside city sloughs, minxes carrying their prey along bike paths, owls flying in broad daylight and at night, perched so close to me I could touch them if I wanted.

Forgotten desires fulfilled

I know when these experiences come, they come solely for my joyful consumption. They also validate my Positively Focused practice as well as indicate that I stand aligned, not only to nature, but to the unfolding, natural fulfillment of all my desires.

I also tell my clients about the nature of “desire” itself. I know many desires I have I don’t remember asking for. But my Broader Perspective remembers them all. When I tune to my Broader Perspective knowing, it begins leading me to all my desires. Not just ones I consciously want, but those I’ve forgotten.

That’s what makes living life so joyous when Positively Focused. I didn’t realize experiencing something like a family of uncommon Birds of Prey up close and personal was something I asked for. Yet here it was delivered in a way I could savor for two whole hours!

Imagine other desires I asked for, cued up by my Broader Perspective and ready when I am to experience. It truly is the Charmed Life I write about. The Charmed Life includes the fulfillment of ALL desires. Not just those a person knows they want, but ones they don’t remember asking for.

My experience today with these hawks filled me with such joy, I am working on a short film about the experience. It’s amazing I got so much video footage, enough for a film I can share. And in the sharing I’ll amplify my own joy, which also amplifies my connection to All That Is.

I write that I am amazed and I am. But I also know what happened is just what happens when I stand at the center of my happy place, where the Universe shows me how blessed I am. How blessed we all are.

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lokispettigerr · 4 years

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To Summon a Witcher: Chapter 5- Geralt x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Reader lives and works in one of the most romantic cities in the US, Charleston, SC. However, because of the city’s colored past, romance isn’t the only thing that can be found there– it is said that ghosts, goblins, ghouls and the like make the city their home. When Reader meets one of these creatures she has to get the help of someone not quite so human in order to be free, but he frees her from much more than she ever expected.

Word Count: 1,987

Warnings: Angry Daddy, Violence, Spooky shit that Daddy protecc reader from

A/N: So far, with the exclusion of chapter 1, this CHAPTER IS MY FAVORITE!

Taglist: In reblog

When I awoke Saturday morning I left my room to find Geralt laying on the couch. His eyes, as stunning as the sunrise, were already open.

“Morning,” I said with a yawn.

“Mmm,” he replied, his voice sounding rougher with the fading tendrils of sleep. I shuffled into the kitchen and started making breakfast. Normally, I wouldn’t eat breakfast. I wasn’t much of a breakfast person, or much of a morning person. I was certain my heavily muscled guest however, needed nourishment.

I put down enough slices of bacon to fill an old cast-iron pot.

The mapley, enticing scent filled the air as the bacon grease heated and popped. “Smells wonderful,” Geralt said. I jumped, turning to face him. How long had he been standing there?! “Timid, Enchantress?” He asked with a smirk. “Not usually!” I exclaimed. “Can’t you make more noise? How are you this quiet when you move? You’re huge!”

Geralt looked down at his waist. He shrugged, clearly indifferent.

“I can hum.”

I had a hard time imagining the aggressive Witcher of last night humming tunes as he walked about.

“Nevermind,” I snapped.

The bacon cooking was growing increasingly louder and I had a hard time hearing anything over it, but I was certain I heard him chuckle.

After I scrambled some eggs, buttered toast, and whipped up southern style grits, we sat down to eat. I had a cup of coffee, almost too hot in my hands. “Would you like some?” I offered. He hmphed and I took that to mean he did.

I drank my own coffee black and didn’t add anything to his either. If he wanted something, he could tell me-- though he didn’t seem to be particularly verbose. We sat in silence other than our utensils scraping the floral plates and the muted thump of coffee mugs on the wooden, four-seater table. I nibbled at a slice of crispy bacon then cleared my throat. “Well, I… I’ve had an entity attached to me, Witcher.”

“Hm…” He sipped his coffee, “Tell me about it.” I felt like I was about to tell my life troubles to a therapist. Perhaps I should go lie down on the couch and ask Geralt to put on some reading glasses while he looked over the rim of them at me and scribbled madly away in a leather-bound notebook. “A few months ago, during a storm, I walked home through a local cemetery.” He snorted, “Why would you walk home through there?”

“I wouldn’t have, had it not been for the storm,” I said, “I know I wasn’t alone there.”

“In the cemetery?”

“Yes.”

“No, you wouldn’t be,” he stated. “Something out there, made of shadow and chilled wind followed me home. It hasn’t left since.” “Why do you think it followed you?” The Witcher asked. I wanted to evade his question-- very few knew my secret. If people knew, they would think I needed to be hospitalized. But, if I wasn’t completely honest with Geralt he may not be able to help me, or things would go awry. “I see it,” I sighed, “I feel it.” He shook his head and took a sip of his steaming coffee, “You see things happening around you, inexplicable things?” He asked. “Well, yes. But I see the entity as well, Witcher.”

For the first time since his arrival, Geralt looked surprised.

“What you are claiming is extremely rare. During my time the ability was nearing extinction. I would imagine that during your time-- what’s the year now?”

“2020,” I answered. He paused, “2020 then. I would imagine that the ability does not exist at all.” “I’m not lying. I see it. It has pointed ears that sit on top of its head. Deep red eyes that look like clotted and cold blood. It’s hunched over with arms that near the ground. It looks perverse! This shadow thing! Like it should walk about on all fours, yet it stands on its hind-legs. “For days it will seem as if it has finally left me. Hope will begin to grow in my chest. But then, when the sun has set or is hidden behind the clouds, I’ll feel its frigid breath on the back of my neck. The noise it makes… A whisper of nails against a chalkboard or gravel turning under someone’s shoes as they run away from a murder.” “Take me to the cemetery,” Geralt demanded.

I nodded, though I had no desire to ever return to the graveyard, I knew better than to refuse his demand. I took one last nibble of bacon, finished my coffee, and told him once I was done washing up I would take him there.

My hands shook as I walked away from him. What had I gotten myself into now?

The sun shone brightly overhead. Though it was chilly out, walking under the rays of the sun made it seem warmer than it was. What few red and orange leaves were left on the trees clung desperately to the limbs, shaking and quivering like a death rattle.

Surprisingly, the french quarter was quiet with the exception of a few people walking their designer-suit-dogs and people returning from a stop at the local market, their arms hoisting bags laden with the freshest finds, aromatic baked bread, and carefully arranged bouquets.

I watched as any person passing by Geralt would cross to the other side of the street, giving him a wide berth.

I sniffed. He didn’t smell bad, on the contrary, his scent was inviting-- like freshly crushed pine, saddle leather, and the smell of smoke still wafting from a campfire that had long been put out but still burned with hidden embers. I looked at the towering man walking silently beside me, at his hands that he held relaxed along his side, at the manly sway of his big shoulders, at the way the breeze twirled his loose silver curls, and how the sun glinting off his hair made him look like some cast down angel of destruction. Geralt must have felt me watching him, our eyes met briefly and I looked away. I pointed at the wrought iron gate before us covered in twisting vines, “It’s there.” The cemetery looked less threatening in the bright afternoon light. Birds flew from tree to tree, singing their gay songs and squirrels scampered up and down thick-girthed trunks whose roots came under the fence line and pushed through cracks in the cobblestone. In the summer, the smell of the magnolia blossoms and the honeysuckle would lay thick in the soupy air, but now it reeked of decay from the dead, molded leaves, mixing with the clay underneath. I moved behind Geralt, my fear letting me step back for the familiar stranger to take the lead. I fought the urge to reach out and grab the back of his graying tunic or to link my fingers in his. Instead, I crossed my arms under my breasts. Geralt looked back at me before opening the gate. “You’re cold, Enchantress?” He asked with a small smile. “I’m fine.” Geralt shrugged and pushed through the gate, the rusted hinges creaked loudly in protest. Geralt walked along the overgrown path and I followed in his footsteps. We traveled as far back as the south end of the graveyard. Geralt looked around us before stepping off the path and into a walled group of headstones, many of them dating back to the early 1800s. I wondered if he noticed the dates on the headstones and what it would feel like to see the dates of the dead from his future, but in his present, from the past. If he was disturbed or conflicted, his face did not show it.

He moved between the headstones comfortably, looking like death himself. He led us to a shadowed corner of the graveyard, compared to the rest of the graveyard this area was wild chaos. It was obvious, the place had been forsaken by the groundskeeper long ago. A stone crypt reached up toward the sky. A dog looking gargoyle stared down at us from above the door. It was a gruesome looking thing. Did it wake at night, wandering about the cemetery? I wondered if it would still be here if we were to come back tomorrow. The gargoyle seemed to hold authority both in its stature and in its gaze as if it held dominion over all the residents in the graveyard.

“Witcher,” I said, my voice wavering. “What are we doing here?” He turned and looked over my head, making sure we weren’t being watched. Though the door of the crypt was bolted shut and chained with aged links, with one shove Geralt opened the door.

For a moment, I thought about waiting for him outside of the crypt. A cloud passed over the sun, causing a chill to race up my spine.

I darted into the crypt after him.

In the gloom of the crypt, I could barely make out Geralt’s hard form. He stood still, not even appearing to breathe.

I heard rustling and my heart jumped. We were not alone!

“Come to me! Now!” Geralt growled, his arm reaching for me.

“But--.”

“Now!” He roared.

I leapt towards him, unsure if I was more afraid of whatever was in the crypt with us or Geralt.

His hand palmed the side of my hip and pulled me behind him-- blocking me with his body.

And, oh my, I was shocked at how tiny I felt up against him.

I peeked around his thick arm.

From behind a bolted sarcophagus, a huge, long-haired, black dog prowled. His lips were drawn back to expose his pointed teeth and a snarl ripped from his throat. It was clear we were trespassing.

“Geralt! What is that?!”

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around Geralt’s waist, it was like hugging solid steel. I couldn’t even clasp my hands together. He was huge and I didn’t think I would ever get used to it.

With a sudden and sharp movement of his hand, a wave of force emitted from his finger-tips.

Amazingly, it sent the ferocious dog flying back.

It hit the wall of the crypt with a solid thud and let out a frantic yelp. The dog got to its feet with its tail tucked between its legs as it ran from the crypt, out into the graveyard.

I let out a sigh and Geralt moved me around to face him.

He held me tight against his chest, my face buried between his pecs.

From beneath my waist, a solid thick poke stabbed into me-- must have been the adrenaline again. “Geralt--,” I started. “Are you alright?” His voice was filled with sincerity.

“I-I’m fine.”

He instantly let go of me as if realizing for the first time that he had been clinging on to me desperately, and tight enough to crush me.

“Come on, then,” he said in a hushed tone.

Geralt was silent as we left the graveyard. When we finally made it back to the house, the sun was setting in the sky.

“So…,” I said. “The entity following you is not just any entity, Enchantress. A Grim has attached itself to your soul. For why I do not know. It doesn’t make sense. But I am certain, none of this will end until it drives you to madness, or death, or both. It would cause your soul to be separated from your body, driven by insanity, making your soul ever restless.”

The words fell, heavy in the air and covered me like a net of fear.

Geralt must have seen the anxiety in my eyes and he moved closer to me.In a murmur that sounded like the most comforting of lullabies, he said, “Everything will be alright. I won’t allow that to happen. I swear it.”

And with that, I knew it would be. Everything would be alright.

#geralt fanfic #geralt #geralt of rivia #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill geralt #geralt imagine #geralt x you #geralt x reader #geralt multi chapter #geralt smut #geralt lemons #smut #fluff #lpt #the witcher

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whenerosmetpsyche · 4 years

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Life Calling to Us

An astrologer I avidly follow and study closely is Ernst Wilhelm whose philosophy of astrology includes the practice of observing “life calling to us” by observing the symbols and energy around us. Astrocartography and local astrology move towards this idea, but Ernst has always claimed it to be much simpler. He sees astrology living with us on earth, in our environment, and our day-to-day lives. So while a solar return foretells the year, paying attention the day of your birthday can outline it just as well. Likewise, while a horary chart can answer a question, a read of the landscape at the right moment can too. One example Wilhelm gives seeing a hawk fly by as you ponder when you’ll hear back from a friend. The hawk is the messenger and you’ll have your answer soon.

Per Wilhelm’s philosophy these events are entwined with you and your natal chart and your location on the planet.

To me it sounded akin to the way I try to intuitively move through life by reading the currents of life, but the details felt like a reach. And although Ernst was able to operationalize the process of reading the world in a way that made sense to me, in practice, I remain doubtful of my daily interpretation of life’s events. But I’ve been trying.

A Solar Return in a Day

This Aquarius season I have been attempting to read the world like Ernst. To start I took up his recommendation and purchased these cards, called Medicine Cards (created by Jamie Sams and David Carson) and I’ve been watching for animals. Coincidences. Events. So now the crow that routinely uses the gutter hanging over my corner bedroom window as a birdbath is no longer just a bird. It’s nice to know the house I lived in years ago was actually protected by the countless neighborhood raccoons that would greet my return, and not haunted by them. Or that the summer hummingbirds in my garden portend joy. Even the cobwebs are encouraging. And because my birthday passed by recently, I thought I would document the day to observe how closely it aligned with my solar return. Here is roughly what happened:

1) so very little sleep and late to everything 2) weird technical outages in public situations 3) waited in the wrong line at the DMV for nearly 45 minutes 4) almost failed my vision test due to a misunderstanding 5) rare successful shopping trip (I am super picky about clothes) 6) so many chatty people around me everywhere all the time 7) felt strangely chatty myself 8) one of the more lovely evenings in recent memory 9) an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love 10) some encouraging financial news

Based on this day it would seem the year will be stressful, frenetic, busy, not as planned, bureaucratic and delayed due to miscommunications. The second half looks social, encouraging and optimistic.

In comparison my solar return looks like a lot of communication work (school crap) and a lot of behind the scenes work. Perhaps the clothes are all about finding the right fit with my research? Jupiter is in my solar return’s second house so maybe my income looks like it could increase this year. And I ate salmon for dinner which I hope symbolically means more inner wisdom to come? I’m crossing my fingers.

The Symbolism of Animals

Sadly I saw few living animals during the day, but I did use the Medicine cards to identify the animal totems that walk beside me so I’ll know their meaning when I see them in the future. For my left side of nurturing I pulled a butterfly (meaning transformation -- and Psyche!), and for my right side of fatherly protection I pulled a dog (loyalty), and horse (power). Above I linked to a blog which has posted the contents of the book so you can read about the animals that routinely come into your life and their meaning. And although I did not notice any butterflies, dogs, or horses on the big day, a friend of mine reported being attacked by a mountain lion on hers. The symbolism of the mountain lion is a call to leadership -- which I guess technically she had been fleeing much like the lion that chased her down the hill. And I did run into a horse in the city during my jog a few weeks ago while feeling particularly empowered. I remain unconvinced for the most part, but it has been fun looking at the world with this lens for a bit. And I’m still wondering what the stink bug invasion of my house indicates. My partner informs me we just need better insulation.

Here is a breakdown of animal meanings from Sams & Carson’s Medicine Cards.

EAGLE - Spirit

HAWK - Messenger

ELK - Stamina

DEER - Gentleness

BEAR- Introspection

SNAKE - Transmutation

SKUNK - Reputation

OTTER - Woman Medicine

BUTTERFLY - Transformation

TURTLE - Mother Earth / Nature Energy

MOOSE - Self-Esteem

WILD BOAR - Confrontation

SALMON - Wisdom & Inner Knowing

PORCUPINE - Innocence

COYOTE - Trickster

DOG - Loyalty

WOLF - Teacher

RAVEN - Magic

MOUNTAIN LION - Leadership

LYNX - Secrets

BUFFALO - Prayer & Abundance

MOUSE - Scrutiny

OWL - Deception

BEAVER - Builder

OPOSSUM - Diversion

CROW - Law

FOX - Camouflage

SQUIRREL - Gathering

DRAGONFLY - Illusion

ARMADILLO - Boundaries

BADGER - Aggressiveness

RABBIT - Fear

TURKEY - Give-Away

ANT - Patience

WEASEL - Stealth

GROUSE - Sacred Spiral

HORSE - Power

LIZARD - Dreaming

ANTELOPE - Action

FROG - Cleansing

SWAN - Grace

DOLPHIN - Manna

WHALE - Record Keeper

BAT - Rebirth

SPIDER - Weaving

HUMMINGBIRD - Joy

BLUE HERON - Self Reflection

RACCOON - Generous Protection

PRAIRIE DOG - Retreat

ALLIGATOR - Integration

JAGUAR - Integrity & Impeccability

BLACK PANTHER - Embracing the Unknown

#astrology #medicine cards #solar return #ernst wilhelm #horary

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gwydionmisha · 4 years

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Don’t Like My PRIDE Flag? Fight Me, Bro.

Our HOA agreement allows seasonal decorations (within certain boundaries). So I was like, "Hey Squirrel, it occurs to me that PRIDE and particularly Stonewall Day are in fact holidays, so the HOA can't stop us. How would you feel about hanging a PRIDE flags up?" Because you don't cover your front window with a massive progress flag without consulting your roommate. He was really into it and wanted to get his own flag for his own window on top of the shared common space one. (I would love the chevrons, but flags are expensive so me getting a 45ish +shipping queer flag, yes I priced them and did the sourcing a monthish ago and it was hard ass things kept selling out or being sold out, on my own was too much money. Maybe next year). After some consultation we worked out which one he wanted and did the order. We did hang them in plenty of time for Stonewall day and they've been up a couple of weeks. My plan was to take them down on the 5th which is in margin by the letter of the rules, and damned if I don't want that thing up for the 4th for obvious fucking reasons. I generally don't rules lawyer, but i will for a good cause.

So when coming back from library curbside Monday I spotted the noticed the HOA had hung on the lobby door with passive aggressive highlighting on the sentence about not hanging political signs in the windows. I smiled, because I'd been waiting to see if they would give me an intent to fine notice, because my plan was to call them right up and point out that people are allowed to hang Christmas decorations, which given the whole bullshit war on Christmas rhetoric is a political issue. All we did was hang decorations celebrating Stonewall Day. Are you saying my identity is a political issue? Not a good look for the HOA in my deep blue college town.

Remember, I'm the person who put on clothes at 11:20PM on a Sunday night in the mid-90's to stomp a long block west to yell at a frat party to stop blasting 'Rockin Robin on repeat because some of us have jobs and need to sleep, with my terrified partner trailing after me, convinced I was a bout to get killed in a brawl with an entire frat and if I really was doing that, he should probably come have my back. They turned it off, chastened. More recently a few years ago I went and stood next to a Lady being screamed at by a mob anti-choicers and yelled back at them with her. I may pick my battles, but I'm all the fuck in when I fight.

So nothing happens and the days pass with no intent to fine notice. Squirrel's parking moves at the month change and he used that door coming home from work this morning and saw the notice. Him: This is definitely aimed at us. Nothing else has changed in the complex. Me: Oh yes. I spotted it Monday. If they want me to take it down they are going to have to explicitly tell me they don't consider PRIDE and Stonewall day real holidays. Him: They won't do that. Me: In which case I win. They either have to fight me over it or live with me ignoring their passive aggressive general notice.

The sign had to have gone up between last Monday afternoon and the Monday before, when I last used that door, which means I feel okay about taking my flag down on the 5th as planned. I'll still be within the HOA's own rules and nearly a week doesn't look like capitulation. Especially when they go back up next June. squirrel likes his so much It's going to be a wall hanging in his room and he's thinking about seeing if he can get a flag big enough to use as a door curtain for his room when there's more money, a project of which I approve. (We use shower curtains to create an airlock/privacy while leaving the doors ajar for cats.)

#PRIDE #Pride Flags #HOA #Queer #LGBTQIA+

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renaer-is-allegedly-hot · 4 years

Text

actual session 8 notes

• I made a mistake

○ Mistake as in I came in late oops

• Anyways

• They're talking abt hair

• For sneak attack you roll 2d6 just a friendly reminder to yourself

○ oH IT TELLS U IN DNDBEYOND HOW MUCH FOR SNEAK ATTACK OKAY

• Now they're talking abt pranking ppl in the rides

• Now they're talking abt disneyland problems

• Now they're talking abt rollercoasters

• Jacob's fish ate each other

• Ok dnd time

○ "no worries" re: me being late s u r e ok nvm it's not depression time

• Passive perception checks and then we do smth idk

• Last session(s)

○ Downtime and then breakfast was bombed

○ Found out the attack was deliberate

○ Went to the one fancy villa house and got into a few fights

○ A nimblewright ?? Was responsible for the attack ig

○ We dipped and it's rainy

• The city is engulfed in thiccccc fog

○ Walking back to mirt's house

§ Lillian got prankt

• Lillian's sister has a guinea pig

○ Its name is buttercup

○ "buttercup dumpy tho" - jacob, 2020

• We're talking abt china's laws wrt eating dogs

• We're in the fog going to mirt's

○ Mirt's house is in sea ward, we're in north ward (a ward away)

○ If we just walk it's a half mile away

○ But there r streets so like a mile walk

○ Visibility is bad bc spring fog

○ Disadvantage on perception checks, visibility reduced to 30 ft

○ We're walking we get there

• Cel knocks

○ No one answers the door

○ Adam is making an investigation check

§ Does a short tour of the front, nothing out of the ordinary

§ Door is locked

§ Looking into the house there's an occasional candle burning by itself

□ Adam uses thaumaturgy to rapidly change the color of the lights inside to see if he can get anyone's attention

® Lights change color, nothing happens

§ Maybe we'll break in but cel will try the pebble on a window thing first

□ Throws, door opens and floon lets us in

□ Mans just got up

® We're a lil wet

□ It's abt 5am

• Short rest? There's no medium rest

○ I want cake I might make cupcakes after this bc I need cake sugar

§ I'll make cake after this and watch criminal minds bc it had me scream

○ We're taking shifts for keeping watch sleeping in mirt's living room w windows facing out onto the street

○ We're taking a long rest

• When cel is on watch she's just watching the door and windows

• Eventually renaer and floon get up n operate on a normal schedule

• Cut straight to wake up

○ Once we're all up it's raining

○ Hi jacob's dad isn't his name frederic ? Oh god I could b v wrong but I'm p sure bc when marguerite named the squirrel someone was like it's jacob's dad

§ "usually what I say should be cut off" - frederic, 2020

§ Aw bye jacob's dad

§ Jacob sounds exactly like his dad

□ Tb to the one time we were playing split the room on jackbox w my cousins and my dad and the choice was trading ur average newborn for an uber smart one or not and all of the cousins and myself said don't trade and mY DAD SAID TRADE

• It's pouring

• Mirt doesn't seem to b here but we can talk to renaer and floon

○ Gonna talk to them abt the mansion n ppl / things at the mansion

○ Oh a nimblewright is the one thing

§ Oops I accidentally googled it and turns out they're employed as bodyguards / assassins / spies

○ "renAer . Do u recognize this symbol"

§ He is indeed familiar w the crest

§ "well to me this looks like the house of grahlund (idk) ?? Or smth"

§ The houses of waterdeep

§ We're suss abt the book

□ We don't see any other black pages tho

§ Adam says the gnome was unfortunately barbecued

□ "trying to deliver the stone of galore" to us probs

□ Y would he deliver it to us

□ "bc mirt is relatively well known ,, this house is probs well watched"

□ The stone of galore v sought after by noble families apparenTly

□ The house ppl r embezzling that's y they want the rock

□ Had their robot blast our door for it

□ But now city watch probably has it

□ Theo remembers the one elven lady having seen someone run off

□ The zents want it, the nobles want it, the citywatch want it

○ So is the plan to go find a zent ??? Or what we'd learn if we went to the robot's location

§ I don't remember any frickin robot I'm just trying to pick up on context clues

§ Oh right grinda in mistshore ?

§ We're gonna go find grinda

□ It's like around 4 in the afternoon

□ Sun not shining too brightly

□ Renaer not coming

® Ur leaving groot w renaer this time

□ Neither is floon, mirt mentioned he had to go do some business elsewhere

® Adam is currently suspicious of mirt

□ We need a ride

® We all dish out 3 copper for a taxi

® Dom dabbed and no one cares

○ Can u drop a message to the guy ?? Somehow ?? Somewhere ?? Just like ,, keep him in the loop ???? Ur confused

• Ok we pay

○ Adam is playing the uke

§ We're in the cab

§ Imagine it's raining aggressively

§ A dwarf guild member picks us up

§ Ugh I want cake

§ Could I bake while playing hm

§ Cab driver has a rigging of sorts set up

§ I have to pee too

§ Any interesting looking ppl in the cab w us ?

○ A gnome w a fedora looking p drenched, dragonborn woman half sleeping kinda elderly, human man

§ Adam slaps the gnome, you stare at the gnome, gnome looks at adam and adam runs an insight check adam rolls 23, gnome tries to look surprised but looks like he's overacting

§ "there's not a lot of big ideas here"

§ "well that's obvious enough"

§ Gnome picks up on stare

§ You get the paper you flip it, you roll for insight gets 22

□ Takes the bait, looks at the paper; eventually human gets off

□ We're getting close to outskirts of dock ward, road is mud

□ At some point the gnome tries to start conversation

□ "say what's that you've got there"

□ "well I only saw him at the carnival that shows up every fall"

® Common in the autumn but not nowadays

® Would have to wait another summer

□ "are you a nimblewright fanatic sir"

® "all I'm saying is I like springtime rain as much as the next guy but when the wind season comes in it's kinda unusual"

® Gnome's name is elbridge

◊ Adam rolls for insight

} 25

} Looks like he's used to saying that name but it might not be his name

® "say I have some business to attend to so driver u can keep the tip just don't tell the guild" dwarf nods and slows the horses down, gnome gets off and dips

• Adam wants him to blow a nose

• "did he leave any little hairs" - marguerite, 2020

○ Cab driver shouts and says no stabbing on the cart

• We're in the dock ward, cart stops and dwarf leans over and makes us get out

○ Shakes his head and says we shouldn't go to mistborne

○ "is there any instruction you can give us for how to 'get there get there' because you're not 'taking us taking us'" - adam, 2020

• Aerana's leading

○ Dom sends a map

○ We're not standing on the muddy running water streets but on wooden planking

○ You have your dagger at hand

○ Beached ships but ppl living inside them probably

○ U can see there r some ppl peeking out of various doorways + shifty characters milling abt

○ Cel and adam r holding hands

○ Adam is sweating a lot but cel still holds it

○ At some point a dragonborn that looks like a sailor or smth w lots of battlewounds n tattoos looks p savage w dull brown color to scales, stands in front of u without saying anything

○ Ur like a lil shorter than humans and dragonborn r much taller

§ "I have business in mistborne what are you doing in my way"

§ Not so many city types

§ Adam mumbles smth under his breath

□ Asks adam what kind of business

□ "we're looking for grinda"

® Tries to appear jovial

® Says ah yes she lives here

® Dragon therapy

◊ He takes and puts to temple

◊ U pay him 3 gold

◊ Grinda garloff

} Strange woman w a shed at the end of the dock

} Take a left here and follow the sounds of the waves

} Throws out a fourth

– Has many visitors w strange visitors

◊ Cel says she likes his tattoos

} "yes these r when I was sailing around the isle of chault"

• We follow his directions and eventually get to d1, we see ppl trying to set a fire

○ Walk down the dock towards d2, door to north of d2 has small assemblage of ppl

○ Can see up to 60 ft away some odd looking ppl

§ Four thugs bearing weapons; three humans w a dwarf barking instructions, attempting to break down the door to d2

§ Might b grinda's house but we really don't know

§ Adam spruces up the one fire of the dock workers

□ Cel lets go of adam's hand

□ They don't notice adam did it

• Adam tries to hear what the dwarf is saying bc it's rainy and doesn't hear anything

○ Lots of shifty ppl around

○ Some of them r watching the scene and also us

○ We approach the audience

§ Adam nudges the friendliest looking person

§ We all go up onto the elevated ship

§ Immediately ppl look at us suss

□ Confrontational almost and eventually a half-elf woman asks us if we're here to watch them string up grinda

® Cel makes persuasion check

® Isn't there another door ?

® Adam goes to cushiest looking person and asks y they're after grinda

◊ Old grizzled halfling answers adam and says grinda took smth she wasn't supposed to have

◊ "we're here to make sure that grinda doesn't escape unharmed"

◊ "we're pretty tough as well" adam says

◊ More ppl come over closer to us

◊ Adam asking how much it would be to outbuy

◊ "that depends on how much you're asking oh wrinkly one"

◊ Halfling confers w fellows

◊ Halfling appears to be a ringleader

} Says 15 dragons

– 19 for insight

w Confident guy, lived a tough life

w Ppl put their trust in him

w Halfling says 15 is bargain price

w Unsuccessful try to push the price down you all cough up 3 dragons

– They start distributing dragons

w Not used to containing excitement

○ After distributing money asks if we have a bone to pick with the xants

§ Adam's gonna play them a song and plays it so hard it casts shatter on the dock the thugs are standing on

□ Constitution saving throws for everything

® Two of the bandits and the dwarf fail their saving throws, other two succeed

® Tl;dr the dock - two of them r shocked so hard they're either dead or unconscious

® Dwarf Is particularly affected

® Dock they're standing on collapses

® Door blasted off inwards

◊ "that's a little trick I learned at bard school"

◊ Ppl on the boat have moved away

® Humans and dwarves screaming

◊ 3 left

} We're not killing them just going into the house

} Go to the side entrance

– V small room w all bare necessary fixtures

– Strange safes n intricate bolted locks

– Hanging talismans from the roof

– Nvm went too fast

w Aerana jumps and runs into a wall but you run into a cabinet

w 3 damage

w Human woman looks unconscious

w Adam casts healing word

w Resuscitates her

w Has mismatched eyes, one yellow other dark green

w V gray hair

w Doesn't look particularly old just has gray hair

w Startles when she wakes up trying to assess our intentions

w Adam tries to convince her the thugs outside tried to blow up her door

w 18 for deception

w Lie works

w "who are you people?"

® Theo asks if she knows anything abt this *pulls out paper*

◊ Affirms we're not w the xants

◊ "I appreciate what you did my name's grinda"

◊ Doesn't look used to talking to this many ppl at once

◊ Stands up and busies herself w putting the room back in order

◊ Looks like she had been barricading the door w stuff before everything was knocked over

◊ "you're telling me you just happened across this place and drove off some xants for some odd purpose"

◊ "actually we were looking for you" - theo

◊ Were told she might have smth to do w the paper

◊ "all the homies hate xanathar" - adam, 2020

} "I've had my dealings w the xanathar before…" admits she was in over her head

} Looking at the paper "so this nimblewright was instructed to drop off an artifact I was supposed to hold for the xanathars

} She got greedy bc she's a treasure-seeker

} The artifact is worth a lot

} "it's just what we do lady" - adam, 2020

} Adam is gonna charm her

– Adam tries to flex "what exactly what was the dangerous item that put a poor, poor, well-facially featured woman like you in danger" what is this jacob

w 17 persuasion

– Her expression changes a little

– It's the stone

w "I was attempting to attune with it but I was unable to in time"

w She put it in a hide hole

w Adam offers to trade hidey-hole locations

w She has a rat familiar and instructed it to take the stone to the city of the dead

w "can you tell the rat to bring it back"

• The city of the dead: mass cemetery where ppl of waterdeep bury their dead within city limits

○ Almost like its own ward

○ In the garlock? Garlof? family mausoleum

○ Adam gets her to pull out some of the items she's collected; some resistance

§ She comes back w a brass ring

□ Once one is attuned to it you are rendered invisible

□ "hold on to that for me hun and I'll come back"

○ Aerana is aware there are guards posted at night but it's a vast open space

• To the cemetery we will go

• Summary

○ Successfully dispatched the thugs

○ Gradually learning more abt the alleged horde of dragons

#sn #8 #dnd #d&d #wdh

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xxx-theartofsuicide-xxx · 5 years

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Today we’re going to talk about the original first-draft script of Beetlejuice

Buckle up, buttercup, ‘cause shit’s about to get real.

First thing’s first, here’s a link to the actual script so anyone can go ahead and give it a look through. It’s wild. I’m only going to cover what interests me personally, but here’s a brief rundown of the original plot written by Blake Goble and published in an article on Consequence of Sound:

“Flashback to writer McDowell’s original draft of the screenplay. Imagine something more generic, at least by ‘80s standards. A well-liked, but hard-to-sell concept, McDowell’s first draft languished like so much Black List material. His script had the bones, though – a family home being invaded by a nefarious presence in creatively cruel, shape-shifting ways. But it was hardly comical. Betelgeuse was a winged demon that would manifest primarily as a Middle Eastern man. The striped suits and quips came later.

What’s more, he was murderous, not a scary prankster. Betelguese’s m.o. was to kill the Deetz family (Winona Ryder, Catherine O’Hara, Jeffrey Jones), and not just spook ‘em. Additionally, the Maitlands (Geena Davis and Alec Baldwin) were to die a horrible drowning death, far more graphic than what’s featured in the film. Just this week, producer Larry Wilson revealed to Yahoo that Lydia Deetz was going to die in a fire and live with the Maitlands in the afterlife. Other little details? Betelgeuse wanted to rape Lydia. He was summoned through his bones being exhumed, not via his name being uttered three times. There was another Deetz daughter, aged nine and named Cathy. The rules were less set in stone. The tone, far darker and more brutal for sure. It sounds decent enough, and perhaps like it would have been a good B-movie project for Craven or Cosmatos at the time. But there would have been no Harry Belafonte.”

Darker than you were expecting maybe? This doesn’t even begin to mention the heavy sexualization of teenagers, the brutal attack on little Cathy by a Betelgeuse-possessed-squirrel, Delia’s pill addiction, and Chuck’s blatant alcoholism. I’ve collected some of my favorite bits in screenshots and will be sharing those now. BJ straight up beating up Chuck after impersonating an IRS agent there to audit him:

I found that bit particularly validating because I have always headcanoned that Beej has a special dislike for Chuck that is by far more vitriolic than his feelings for any of the other breathers in the house.

Delia popping pills:

Do you like to write/envision Delia as a self-medicated wreck? Me too. Congratulations, there’s your validation.

“Most malevolent spirit in the universe”:

As if we needed any more proof that BJ is not someone you want to fuck with ever. Don’t be afraid to make him as powerful as you want in your fanworks. He really is the big bad boogie man. Now, for the pièce de résistance, every interaction between Betelgeuse(”Danny Death”) and Lydia:

Look, idc that his intentions are evil, those lyrics are ROMANTIC af mmm

What really stands out to me looking at all of this is the “he hesitates” part when Lydia invites him to the ghost party. He bought her a coke. The scene takes place at a gritty heavy metal venue in NYC while she’s away from any sort of adult supervision. If he really wanted to rape her, he could have done it right then. Really, he could have done it in her bedroom. But there’s something else behind his motivations. She shucks him off one too many times, he loses his interest in seducing her(albeit aggressively) and goes for a scare instead. IMO, this entire bit conveys a genuine interest in romancing Lydia, followed by disappointment when he is unsuccessful. In conclusion, Chuck is a greedy alcoholic(I didn’t feel like posting all the screenshots of him downing pitchers of long island iced tea), it’s a miracle that Delia is functioning at all, and the BJ/Lyds ship is so fucking valid it hurts. Btw here’s some goth cheerleader to end this post on a high note. Do what you will with this information:

#Beetlejuice #lydia deetz #betelgeuse #michael mcdowell #script #rape mention #alcoholism #drug abuse

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

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The dog is one of the world’s most destructive mammals. Brazil proves it.

https://wapo.st/2P35Gfy

The dog is one of the world’s most destructive mammals. Brazil proves it.

By Terrence McCoy | Published August 20 at 6:00 AM ET | Washington Post |

Posted August 20, 2019 4:32 PM ET |

RIO DE JANEIRO — High above this Brazilian city, in a jungle blanketing a mountain, the turtles were out and the scene was hopeful.

Scientists were reintroducing 15 mud-caked tortoises to this urban forest where they had once been plentiful. Children were running around. People were oohing and aahing. A stern-looking security guard briefly appeared to smile.

But not government biologist Katyucha Silva. She was thinking about dogs.

What would they do to these turtles? What were they doing to Brazil?

It’s a question more researchers are beginning to ask in a country where there are more dogs than children — and where dogs are quickly becoming the most destructive predator. They’re invading nature preserves and national parks. They’re forming packs, some 15 dogs strong, and are hunting wild prey. They’ve muscled out native predators such as foxes and big cats in nature preserves, outnumbering pumas 25 to 1 and ocelots 85 to 1.

Every year, they become still more plentiful, spreading diseases, disrupting natural environments, goosing scientists who set up elaborate camera systems to photograph wild animals, only to come away with pictures of curious canines.

“It’s a difficult thing for people to hear,” said Isadora Lessa, a Rio de Janeiro biologist who wrote her doctoral dissertation on domestic dogs causing environmental mayhem. “They love dogs too much.”

How the dog became one of the world’s most harmful invasive mammalian predators is as much a global story as a Brazilian one. Over the last century, as the human population exploded, so did the dog population, growing to an estimated 1 billion.

That has been great for people — and even better for dogs — but less so for nature, according to a growing body of academic research implicating canines, particularly the free-roaming ones, in environmental destruction.

“The global impacts of domestic dogs on wildlife are grossly underestimated,” researchers concluded in a 2017 study published in the journal Biological Conservation. The researchers, based in Australia, convicted dogs in the extinction of 11 species and declared them the third-most-damaging mammal, behind only cats and rodents.

The International Union for Conservation of Nature maintains a list of animals whose numbers dogs are culling. There are 191, and more than half are classified as either endangered or vulnerable. They range from lowly iguanas to the famed Tasmanian devil, from doves to monkeys, a diversity of animals with nothing in common beyond the fact that dogs enjoy killing them. In New Zealand, the organization reported, a single German shepherd once did in as many as 500 kiwis — and that was the conservative estimate.

“Unfortunately, we have a big problem,” said Piero Genovesi, chair of the agency’s invasive species unit. “There is a growing number of dogs.”

People all over the world are — begrudgingly — beginning to take note.

In Chile, stray dogs were the top concern among city dwellers surveyed this year, topping deteriorating sidewalks and theft. In New Zealand, some communities moved last year to restrict the movement of dogs in a gambit to save little blue penguins. In India, farmers are complaining about stray dogs killing their livestock, just as other predators once had.

And in Brazil, atop a mountain outside of Rio de Janeiro, 15 tortoises were nestling into the forest floor, oblivious to the danger of the forest’s leading predator.

‘A Complex Problem’

Brazil is home to an estimated 52 million dogs, according to the most recent government statistics — more than anywhere in Latin America — but their lives vary widely. In a nation defined by inequality, where the rich fly in helicopters over the poor in the favelas below, the dog has become one more way of understanding the divide.

In wealthy cities, the dog is everywhere, strolling through fancy shopping malls, sitting in the laps of restaurant patrons, even riding paddle boards out on the surf. Some people wheel their dogs around in little strollers.

“The dog brings to Brazilians some things that Brazilians appreciate in themselves,” said Alexandre Rossi, a television personality more commonly known as Dr. Pet. “To be friendly, to want to socialize with everyone … and be there and be close to your family. These are perceived as very good Brazilian qualities.”

On the streets of trendy Ipanema one recent afternoon, few people could believe that a dog — or at least their dog — could be much of predator.

“The dog is a friend!” sputtered Philipe Soares, the furball Bobby at his feet. “No, I’ve never thought of him that way.”

“Difficult to imagine,” said Carlos Alberto Vicente, peering down at his own pooch.

“In her case,” said Flavio Vilela, a shirtless man striding through a park with a small mutt named Nicoli, “they’d hunt her.”

The problem, researchers say, isn’t these dogs, who lead the coddled lives of European or American pets.

The problem is the dogs in poorer and more rural communities, where the life of the dog is more frequently the life of hunger. They prowl the streets day and night with neither a collar nor an owner, looking for food wherever it can be found — in trash heaps, alongside roads, and in forests and fields, where they form packs to hunt and kill.

“It’s a very complex problem,” said Silva, the government biologist.

A Stunning Discovery

Ana Maria Paschoal, a researcher at the Federal University of Minas Gerais, remembers when she first started thinking about the dog differently. She was out in the Atlantic Forest in Southeast Brazil around a decade ago when she noticed there were an awful lot of them.

She wondered: How many dogs are using the protected areas? Are these feral or domestic dogs? Is their presence changing the occurrence of wild species?

So she set up cameras across 2,400 acres of forest to find out. What she discovered, published in 2012 in the scientific journal Mammalia, stunned her. The dog wasn’t just the most-recorded carnivore; it was the most-recorded animal of the 17 mammals the cameras captured.

“The presence of the domestic dog is a threat,” Paschoal and her co-authors concluded.

The research, subsequently confirmed in a larger survey, laid the groundwork for a growing field of study here. One researcher linked Brazil’s dogs to the spread of diseases. Another accused the dogs in the National Park of Brasilia, where they hunted in massive packs, of scaring off natural predators. It was found that the closer humans lived to a nature preserve, the more likely dogs had penetrated it.

But perhaps most striking? The dogs were neither feral nor domestic — but somewhere in between.

“All the dogs we detected had an ‘owner’ or a person that the animal has a bond with,” Paschoal said. “The species population increases following human populations, exacerbating their potential impact on wildlife.”

It was something Fernando Fernandez, an ecology professor at the University of Rio de Janeiro, learned the hard way. For the last decade, he has been reintroducing native animals to the Tijuca forest, one of the world’s largest urban woodlands, which spills across Rio de Janeiro’s mountains.

First came the agouti, a squirrel-like rodent. Then followed a problem: “Dogs.”

They started killing the agouti, and not for food. It was just for fun.

Fernandez and Silva wanted to learn more. They set up cameras and discovered dozens of dogs in the forest. They estimated more than 100 dogs were in the park — not residents, it turned out, so much as frequent visitors, tracking in from nearby favelas.

“These are people who are very poor,” said Silva, who has six dogs at home. “They don’t have money to build walls … When the owners leave for work, the dog leaves, too, and only returns when the owner comes back to the house from work.”

The owners often have no idea what their dogs are up to. Even if they were told, Rob Young said, they almost certainly wouldn’t believe it.

Young, chairman of wildlife conservation at the University of Salford in Britain, witnessed the psychology at work after seeing dogs kill flightless birds in the state of Minas Gerais.

“We’d do interviews with the farmers: ‘Have you seen these dogs?’

“And they’d say, ‘Yeah, but my dogs aren’t the problem; it’s my neighbor’s dogs.’

“Every farmer would say the same thing.”

These factors — inability to see aggression in dogs, intractable inequality, the rapid expansion of humanity — left Silva feeling apprehensive as she watched the tortoises being reintroduced into the Tijuca forest.

In the long term, she didn’t know how the problem of dogs laying waste to the world’s environments would realistically improve.

And in the short term: Could dogs kill these tortoises, just as they’d dispatched a few agouti?

“Yes,” she said. “They could.”

Dig Deeper: Animals + Environment

Want to explore how animals have adapted to an increasingly urbanized environment? Check out our curated list of stories below.

Context matters: Why more tigers live in cages than in the wild

As the world’s tiger population has plummeted, the number in captivity has exploded because of a robust illegal tiger farming and poaching economy.

Understanding the limitations of reviving extinct species

Once extinct in the wild, the return of red wolves 30 years ago was a minor miracle. Now they face extinction again, revealing the limits of government bureaucracy in saving wildlife.

#environment #enviromental #environmetalists #brazil #rainforest #latinamerica #news #world news #international news #u.s. news

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