#however i have been wanting to experiment with more vibrant colors i just haven’t found a project to do w yet

[plinkcat-gif]

i love when people compliment my use of color

#so many people pointed it out in the summons piece and it’s funny bc i pick colors from the same 2-3 spots on the color wheel #it’s a perfect formula i cannot lose #however i have been wanting to experiment with more vibrant colors i just haven’t found a project to do w yet #might do a color palette thing like jade djsksjfksj

[anadrawzone]

Tawnas departure

Wrote by: Ana González | Translated by: Oxide Mr. Crumb

- … Cortex was defeated. Do you know what that means? -

After an endless adventure touring tropical islands; Ancient ruins, rivers and waterfalls, mines, laboratories and even a macabre castle, our orange hero had finally managed to banish the villain. A battle between two opposite poles that, without hesitation at all, would surely have its revenge.

Now he just had to stay with the girl and live happily ever after, a wonderful ending to the story of these two lovebirds ... Or so it was supposed. -------- --------

Tawna and Crash watched the beautiful sunset on the horizon. Filled with vibrant warm colors, sitting in that old purple blimp. Crash was happy, fulfilled that he had achieved his main goal; his beloved was safe from any danger and no one was going to threaten them again, their own creator had fallen to a (possible) death and they were reunited again, but the girl did not look as happy as him. That confused him a bit.

While they "saw" the landscape, strangely the blonde girl was not paying attention to the beautiful image, instead, she was immersed in all her thoughts, doubts and desires staring at absolutely nothing. The little boy couldn't help but think that there was something wrong that was bothering him, so he slowly approached to see what she had.

- Uhm… ¿Mh? – The furry touched the blonde's arm gently, but hard enough to pull her out of her trance.

Tawna got up a little nervous and a little excited, turned to see the boy and began to talk to him in an animated way.

- Crash! You know, I really can't believe it, Yo- You came and rescued me. -She took a little pause to catch his breath. -Now that Cortex was defeated. Do you know what that means? - Crash shook his head somewhat confused, but interested in knowing the answer. Tawna leaned down to get closer to him and whispered. - It means we are free! -

- Woah. - Crash didn't quite understand; he knew all that, he had just experienced it ... Was it something so surprising?

"We can do what we want, be what we want…" Tawna moved from side to side, shaking a little. She could barely contain his excitement; Crash was quite curious of that. She was always someone very calm. - We can LEAVE THIS PLACE. - The girl took her partner's hands, joined them with hers and smiled at him. -Let's use this airship to get out of the Wumpa Islands. Crash, where would you like to go? We have so many possibilities. -

-…-

Crash did not take those words so well, he had to think about it for a couple of seconds, but he made the decision firmly, changed his face to a more serious one, taking a couple of steps away girlfriend and breathed a little. -Ah, ah. -

He shook his head firmly in denial, something unexpected for Tawna, who believed that the marsupial would be totally willing to go with her, that made her feel a lump in her throat. - No? ex-excuse me...? - With some pain, small tears began to fall from the blonde's face, even if Crash had not answered, her reaction would have been the same. She slowly sat down so she could catch up with the orange.

Crash felt bad, he didn't expect her to react that way, he got closer again and placed his hand on Tawna's shoulder and she looked up.

-I don't understand, why would you want to stay? - - Uh! Ah! - Crash tried to make various gestures, trying to tell the girl that he couldn't just leave, he felt that he should stay in this place.

Now that he thought about it, he had never seen beyond the Wumpas Islands, would it be worth leaving his home? Also, what about the flora and fauna of the islands? Without Aku Aku's protection something very bad could happen ...

I understand that your heart is very big, but you haven't seen the things that I saw when I was a prisoner. YOU HAVE NO IDEA ... - Tawna took a breath of air and began to count all the atrocities she had witnessed, things that only few mutants managed to see ... because she was not part of the army forces itself.

The blonde was created with a different purpose, her intelligence and attitude were perfect to stay after army operations and also to be Crash company; a hand that moved the strings, planning movements and giving orders, as well as a reason for his strongest general to always be loyal to his master.

Not being created to fight, the blonde never went through the lethal tests of Dr. Cortex and instead of having a strict training, she had some freedom to explore the castle, to learn the necessary and analyze everything she could. The girl was curious and would soon regret learning too much. ____________________________

Brio wasn't the best at keeping an eye on Tawna, regularly letting her wander alone and talking to other experiments wich she never saw again, very regularly wondering << Where will so many animals go?>>.

One of those days the girl found that "the subject" was being taken to one of the mysterious tests, the girl with some nerves began to follow her partner from a distance, while he was taken by two laboratory assistants; the mutant followed them quite happily, taking long strides while admiring the castle walls, as if it were a simple morning walk. After a certain time, they reached the test chamber, where the voice of their creator was heard through a speaker on the wall.

- Are you ready? - Asked the evil Dr. Neo Cortex, with some joy in his voice, Crash only responded by shaking his head up and down, while Tawna (without having entered) watched everything from a window placed in one of the walls.

What she saw did not liked at all, because, although Crash had no idea at the time, he was crossing highly lethal obstacles; Explosives, fatal falls and possible splinters could be seen from all sides ... this was inhuman, now the girl had an idea of ​​where most of the friends that the bandicoot had made for weeks were going. Thinking of the worst for her partner, Tawna closed her eyes, wishing he managed to survive and not have to re-enter that ugly place again. Fortunately, the first of his prayers was fulfilled, unfortunately the second was not.

Weeks and even months passed, but the girl never managed to meet her goal, at least Crashworth was skillful enough to pass the tests without problems ... but only a few managed to reach the half. The blonde was grateful that she didn't have to go through all that, but she wished that no one else was forced to follow this silly plan of world domination, so she tried to resort to many things. She tried to talk to his friend and best company about the danger he was exposing to, but there was not much to do, Crash had a routine that became more and more strict, with less time in the cages and more in training, by far, whatever he wanted, he couldn't find a safe way to reunite with the girl without alerting the security of the place, so Tawna looked for other alternatives to undo all this. She spoke hundreds of times with Brio, it seemed that he did want to resign, however he always retracted his words, contradicted himself or ignored his surroundings.

- Yes, yes sweet one, we will end this soon, but I cannot disobey the master so easily ... maybe if we joined forces, we could… uh... No-no, I- maybe, ugh. SIGHT. I don't want to deal with this anymore. I feel like they're watching us, I could be in trouble …-

- But Brio I know you can convinc- The subordinate man's alien hand covered her mouth, seeing what appeared to be Cortex's shadow approaching.

- I can't, stop trying. It's time for you to go back to your cage ... you are not supposed to learn about this. - This was the case until the fateful day when the Cortex Vortex was used on the remaining mutants, after several failed tests and breakdowns that our blonde had caused in sabotage attempts.

____________________________

-I'm so glad that neither of us had become an evil slave of that cretin ... Now do you understand why we should not stay? He could still be here! -

- MHM! - Clearly Cortex could still be on the islands somewhere, but Crash was sure that there was still some goodness in that man, he could feel it, hear it. Something that Tawna surely did not know, if Cortex came back ... he should at least try and prove that there is still a kind heart within the doctor.

Having made his girlfriend understand this, she finally resigned herself to accepting her lover's wish. It was sad to think about it, both of them had supported each other when they did not know anyone else, always trying to see for each other, but now their paths were going in different directions ... they did not want to separate, but they were not going to force the other to do something they did not want.

Crash walked over to Tawna and gave her a big hug, while she was still sitting up. -Okay, you want to stay, but I can't do it… not with what I saw, not when I couldn't even protect myself, I wouldn't want to be a hindrance and that you have to worry about me. I'll be back… when I'm strong enough… Maybe we can go on an adventure together that day, okay? - A few tears came from both of them, each one gently dried the other's cry.

Thus, having agreed to separate, Tawna still couldn't leave and leave Crash completely alone and to his own devices, so she stayed for a few weeks while they built a nice home for him to live in. They spent beautiful times, laughed and rested on the seashore ... But despite all that new peace, they still felt the threat of Cortex in the air. His memories were still very fresh.

Crash took a stick and began to write in the sand "Where do you plan to go?", Then stung the blonde a bit slowly. Then she turned around and read the message.

- "I ... I don't really know." - The girl began to think a bit. She did not know the world as it is, she had only heard of it, but never gone. -I have a small map around here, maybe I could start with a somewhat remote place ... Wait, I'll go find it. - She stopped and entered the half-built house, looking among her things for a map that she remembered keeping. Meanwhile, Crash was waiting on the beach, Aku aku appeared out of nowhere (Literally), returning from having checked the status of the Islands. - Fortunately, there hasn't been any sign of Cortex around here in a long time, but I think I've seen an unknown mutant near here. I couldn't check if it was hostile or not so the best thing would be to prepare for whatever is coming. Its coming. –

Crash complied with what his mentor said and quickly stood on guard, ready to await a possible attack from a new enemy. Seconds later, the bushes in the distance began to rustle, moving strongly, much more than it would if a normal animal were behind them, so the marsupial was sure the enemy was there. A couple more steps and the creature emerged from its hiding place, falling as it became entangled with one of the roots of the plants around it. - Huhf! - The orange boy approached slowly ... looking at the creature he thought it did not look like a monster ... or a dangerous mutant, the creature was small, thin and with large blond hair. The girl got up slowly and our hero realized that he was a bandicoot just like him and Tawna ... how strange, they thought they were the only ones of that species created by Cortex

- ¿A-are you… Crash? – Said the girl touching her head. -Yes ... I would recognize I would recognize you wherever, you are something famous brother. -

Aku aku was quite surprised - Wait, brother? - The mask made his protégé move a bit away from the stranger, putting himself in front of her face (which Crash was unable to see, so he began to look out from all possible sides).

- Ehh… Ok, explained it. - He took a breath, raising one of his hands as if pointing to something.

- My name is Coco, I was created by this "Cortex" - While Coco said that Crash said in a low voice “¿Da-Daddy?”, something that made the minor make a somewhat disgusted face. -Yes ... you could say that he is like your father ... not mine, only the one who created me. He told me about you, he said you were still around ... he said you had abandoned me. And well I wanted to know if it was-true. -

- Crash, Crash!! I know it took me a long time, but I found the map. There is a very large island near ... - Tawna left the house euphoric, but stopped in her tracks when she saw the unknown mutant and was placed in a battle pose. - Who-who is she? -

-Coconut. Crash's sister… I need to talk to you. - Coco began to explain why he was here, what had happened these last weeks. -Well, while you guys escaped, I stayed behind. I always wondered why they had run away without me, it's strange. But I did not trust that strange bighead, if you are my family ... why would you? -Oh dear, we… we had no idea that you existed- The two older bandicoots went to hug the smallest, they knew that Cortex could be someone very cruel and liar.

-I think I've been lost for weeks… I didn't know if they were still here, I'm glad I found them. I thought I would be alone on this desolate island. Thanks. -

Coco smiled as they continued with the hug, which lasted a long time, the Bandicoot family just as it had suddenly grown a little more, in the same way it would lose a member. At least Crash would no longer be completely alone, with Coco and Aku by his side, any evil could be stopped. And Tawna? She would go a little calmer. Nervous about going somewhere unaccompanied, but she had to. She had to prove to herself that she would never be a damsel in distress again. Thus gathered all together, they continued talking throughout the afternoon, what they would make of their lives as they would keep communicated. The older blonde ultimately decided to venture to live near Sydney, Australia; due to the good reviews of the place. In addition to having received a curious message from some mutants that were established in that place. Tawna remembered them and thought they had perished during tests and experiments, but somehow, they also escaped without anyone knowing.

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

It took another 2 weeks until the house was completely finished. With decisions made and ready to be executed; Tawna packed her things, climbed into the old Cortex airship, and said goodbye to the brothers.

-I will write and send you messages whenever I can. Don't stop saving the world, please. - The girl dropped her suitcases to be able to receive a hug from the two boys, the last hug.

- We hope you find your place soon. Be the best version of yourself. - Coco was quite happy for her friend, but sad for her departure while Crash shed a few tears that he couldn't contain.

- ¡A-dah! – Crash said enthusiastically.

- Bye guys, take good care of yourselves. - The girl finished getting on the airship, taking flight and going to explore the endless world. Who knows, maybe one day the 4 of them can get together again as one big family.

- Let's go home, kids. - Aku aku thought of preparing a good hot chocolate to spend the cold night in the jungle, inside a little house surrounded by trees, where three heroes rested waiting for a new evil to fight.

#crash bandicoot #crash bandicoot 4 #crash x tawna #crash on the run #crash bandicoot it's about time #crash team racing #coco bandicoot #fanfic #crash bandicoot fanart #gritos draws

[enviedear]

the last great american dynasty → draco malfoy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which y/n l/n buys an old home and quickly becomes the talk of the town

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.7k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

pls enjoy this fic as i write my other four... its proving most difficult to keep up with all of them but i’m trying. and of course this is based off the song the last great american dynasty by taylor :)))

also here is the house i’m going to be referencing :)

when you moved to england your first task was to do as your parents suggested, stay with your distant relative, aurora sinistra. 

and you followed their advice. you tracked down her home. she just happened to be away. she had left a note saying something about how she couldn’t miss some sort of planetary alignment and would be in germany for the next week.

you had decided to explore the new territory and after an hour of walking around the town you met your soulmate, a home. and not just any home, a beautiful large piece of art made of stone. 

the huge house enticed you to climb up the large hill it was sat on. 

up closer you saw the vines and wisteria climbing up the exterior. then more details like the broad windows in need of cleaning, an old oak door, and doric columns that made you feel like you stumbled into a princess story. 

you forgot your normal manners and had entered the home without a knock, pacing slowly through the entryway, studying the decor.

“excuse me?” a voiced called.

you had turned to find a tall brunette woman holding a toddler.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to just walk up into your home. its just, very beautiful, and i saw a for sale sign by the mailbox.” you had sputtered out.

the woman seemed even more surprised after you had spoken, “are you american?”

“yes?” you had replied, confused.

“it’s just, no one comes here and now i know why you did,” she laughs a little and adjusts the little boy on her hip. “this is a family home of a dark wizard, not many people want to visit a house that has such negative connotations. but i’d love to give you tour if you’re still interested in it?” she asks.

you smile, “i’d love to. i’m y/n by the way.”

andromeda tonks had quickly taken a liking to you and offered you the home. she explained that absolutely no one else would buy it given the fact it used to belong to her sister, who had fought alongside voldemort. 

you didn’t mind the weird history that came along with the home, it was too beautiful to pass up. plus, it wasn’t unlike to you to cause a stir. you took pride in doing things out of the ordinary.

that’s how you came into the possession of the lestrange family home, or as you call it, wisteria house, after the flowers that inhabited the residence.

now, almost a year later, you’re the talk of the town. most of your pureblood neighbors found you too new. you were new money, you were apart of an american half-blood family, and you hosted parties they deemed too loud. however you knew they were tasteful.

you couldn’t care any less about what they thought of you. your home was your everything and you wouldn’t change yourself for some stuck up old families. you found it marvelous ruining everything they deemed sacred.

one of your neighbors in particular, a man named lucius malfoy, had annoyed you to no end. he hated everything about you. andromeda told you several times by now that he proclaimed you a mad woman to anyone who brought you or wisteria house up.

so today, on the fifth of june two thousand and three, you were determined to win this feud.

lucius’ home, malfoy manor was hosting a party tonight, and you were set on ruining everything.

as you entered the mansion, you absentmindedly smoothed out your tight fit gown. it hung off your shoulders and had a tasteful slit on the left side, exposing your leg.

“y/n, come sit with teddy and i!” andromeda calls from a nearby table.

you smile at the woman and take your seat beside her, giving teddy a kiss on the forehead. he in return, makes his hair your favorite color and smiles up at you.

“i didn’t think you’d actually come dear. i know how rude lucius has been to you, but i’m glad you’re being pleasant and showing off your best face.” andromeda says sarcastically, bringing her wine glass to her pointed lips.

you smirk, “lucius deserves to experience my full presence.”

the party kicks off and andromeda introduces you to many people, like harry potter, who you feel very awkward around. you can’t help it, you don’t know how to talk to someone who saved the world.

she also introduces you to lucius, who is carrying around a small poodle like it’s a handbag. he doesn’t say much to you and you don’t mind, his voice annoys you.

you decide to sneak away from andromeda’s conversation with lucius and make your way to a balcony. to the right, you spot your home. you smile to yourself and begin studying the malfoy garden. 

after a little time passes you decide it best to find andromeda again, but before you can take a step lucius’ dog is licking your exposed leg.

“well how did you get here?” you jokingly ask the animal, crouching down to pet it.

the dog leans into your touch and that’s when you have an idea.

when you attended ilvermorny you learned a spell for dyeing flags so that the opposing houses couldn’t change it. it proved a big hit given the thunderbird house liked to turn flags into theirs as a joke during quadpot games.

you could dye the dogs fur so that lucius would have a conniption. the dye was completely safe as well, and you were sure the party guests would love to see lucius attempt to change to dogs fur back.

so you dyed the dog a key-lime green, and let it run back off to its owner.

“i suppose my father was right, you are mad.” a voice says from the hall.

you furrow your brows and step further into the hallway so you can get a look at who’s speaking.

leaning against the wall is a tall, pale, blonde boy. draco. andromeda told you about him. apparently he doesn’t like his father much and to spite him, takes teddy on walks in his garden every saturday and thursday morning.

“you know, people have been saying that my home is cursed to make any woman who lives in it insane. and i must admit after finding your aunt bellatrix’s journal i might have to believe them. her sanity did begin slipping after moving into that home.” you say, raising your eyebrows.

“bella was always mad. but if you keep tormenting my father i think it’ll be him to go insane. not that i don’t enjoy your little pranks on him.” he gushes, letting a small smile creep onto his face.

“i can’t just end your dad an i’s little feud here, draco. it would make me look cowardly,” you tease, biting your lip. “i really don’t even know why he invited me to this party. come to think of it, i don’t even know what we’re celebrating.”

“i invited you. it’s my birthday party.” he replies.

“why thank you for your invitation. may i ask how old you are?” you ask.

“twenty-three at 11:37,” he looks at his pocket watch, “ten more minutes.”

you study him before saying, “you know there’s a wall at my house that shows you the way the stars look. would you like to see how the universe aligns the stars for your birthday?” 

draco runs a hand through his hair, “i’d love to. and i’ve been meaning to see what you’ve done with bella’s old house.”

the two of you quietly sneak out of malfoy manor and into wisteria house. you lead him upstairs and into the sky room. the room had an enormously tall glass ceiling, and was decorated with things aurora had given you.

on the wall furtherest from the door was a live depiction of the stars above. tonight the wall showed a vibrant blue galaxy spotted with deep orange and bright white stars.

“you’re lucky, this is one of the best ones i’ve seen this whole year. the stars must like you.” you sigh, happily.

draco laughs a bit and looks at you, “despite being the town nuisance, i find you rather enjoyable.”

“despite that compliment being backhanded, i find you rather enjoyable as well.” you tease.

draco laughs, “did you know that the sacred twenty eight pureblood families have a nickname for you?”

you shake your head asking him to explain.

“they call you the last great american dynasty because you bought this big house and have money they can’t trace.” he says.

“i cant deny, i kind of like it.” you giggle.

draco looks down to his watch, “one minute and then i’m officially twenty three,” he pauses to smirk a little, “you know this is the age my parents got married, and i suppose my mother will expect the same of me now.”

“i’ve always said the best age to get hitched is twenty three. the brain isn’t fully developed so you can still love like a teenager but have the responsibilities of an adult. i suppose by that logic, i too should be getting married this year.” you joke.

draco smiles before looking at you quizzically.

you furrow your eyebrows, “what is it?” 

“i think i have the perfect way to win your little feud with my father.” 

“and what is that?” you ask.

“let’s get engaged.” he says simply.

“draco, i’m honored but,” you pause, thinking.

what would be the harm in accepting. you could spend however long you wanted mulling over the actual wedding. lucius would have to respect you a little more. and draco seemed to be a nice person.

“you know what, this mad woman wouldn’t mind being engaged to you. so long as you don’t rush me to marry you, and we stay here, at wisteria.” you bargain.

“you’re sure? you haven’t been drinking have you? i’d hate to propose to a woman who won’t remember this in the morning.” he jokes.

“i haven’t had anything other than pumpkin juice tonight. although i can say this is extremely impulsive, i am almost certain i’d like to marry you. i mean i just saw the ways the stars looked on your birthday. that’s the most intimate thing i’ve ever done with someone.” you smile.

“that’s the most intimate-” you cut the boy off with a simple, “of course not, silly.”

the two of you talk through the rest of the night and into the early morning before draco escorts himself home.

the following months were bliss, aside from lucius’ annoyance about you and his sons engagement. draco took you all over britian. you bought some of the best ice cream you’ve ever had from a shop in diagon alley, you visited aurora at hogwarts and met the lovely headmistress named minerva who gleamed at draco every time he spoke, you took draco to meet your parents in november to celebrate thanksgiving, and the two of you did a lot of landscaping for wisteria house.

“guess what tomorrow is.” you instruct your fiancee who is tending to the small wiggentree.

draco wipes the dirt from his forehead and purses his lips in thought, “ah, it’s our engagement party.”

you wink at him and wrap your cloak around yourself more trying to get warm, “precisely. i was thinking we announce the wedding day.”

he chuckles, “why y/n, we won’t be getting married for a while. plus i’d hate to toy with mother by giving her a date she’ll have to wait anxiously for. you know that woman is practically dying to have a wedding. though, i would have thought potters’ would have quenched her thirst.”

you roll your eyes, “we’re announcing the day. march the fourth two thousand and five.”

draco’s eyes widen, “and you’re sure?”

you nod and draco barrels toward you with a hug. it knocks you back a bit but you smile and hold the boy tight against you. 

it didn’t take you long to become enraptured in everything that was draco malfoy. he loved you with a firey passion you longed to never go out.

the wedding day came quickly, but not quick enough for you and your fiancee.

“you know, i must say, this crowd has to be bigger than harry’s on his wedding day.” you say to andromeda, narcissa, and your mom.

“it’s because half of these people are a little too invested in your life. i love you but having your wedding at a former deatheater’s home isn’t exactly normal. i mean i know it’s not bella’s house anymore but the history remains. i can’t say anyone likes a home of a deatheater. no offense sissy.” andromeda says, looking out the window at the large crowd in the garden.

narcissa rolls her eyes and continues weaving the wisteria into your h/c hair. 

“i wish i was better at braiding honey, but narcissa is doing better than i ever could. you were right to have me just doing your makeup.” your mom says, eyeing your mother-in-laws’ handiwork.

“i just can’t believe the day is finally here. my little boy is getting married. i always knew he’d marry a woman who could keep up with him.” narcissa smiles.

after you and your bridesmaids (who consisted of your best friend, andromeda, and your cousin aurora) were ready, narcissa and your mother escort you all down to the venue.

the two mothers smile at you before taking their seats. 

“next time we talk you’ll be a married woman.” your best friend says, nudging your shoulder.

“isn’t it crazy?” you laugh, clutching your flowers.

she gives you a confident look before walking onto the aisle.

soon enough its your turn to walk. the long train of your white dress trails gracefully behind you and your off the shoulder long sleeves keep your arms warm.

the grey eyes at the end of the aisle look at you with such adoration you can’t help but to let out a stray tear.

draco looks regal in his light grey tux. his blonde hair is styled just like it was in a picture you found of him from his sixth year at hogwarts, and his rosy cheeks allude to his nerves.

when you reach him he holds a hand out for you and wipes the tears from your eyes.

your father is officiating the wedding and gives you a smile that only a father can give before starting his speech.

soon enough it’s time for draco to say his vows.

your lover sniffles a bit before speaking, “y/n l/n, for years this house has sat quietly on this hill, free of women with madness and bad habits until two years ago when it was bought by you. y/n, the most brilliant woman i’ve ever met. you ruined all the negativities that came with this home. your nature is unlike anyone else. you always see the best in people and things. you make a friendly competition out of anything and it never fails to amaze me at the way you push yourself. before we met i was out walking with a few old friends from school and you were outside wisteria planting lilac. i remember one of my friends referred to you as loudest woman this town has ever seen. i have to agree, your aura is impossible to escape. but i would never want to escape your madness. everything you do fills me with light. who knows if you never showed up what could have been. i’ve had a marvelous time ruining everything this home used to stand for with you, and i’d be honored to continue doing just that for the rest of my life. i adore you, y/n.” 

your heart begged to reach out and hug him.

“i love you draco malfoy.” you profess.

“i know pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.” your father beams.

draco leans into you and gives you a kiss full of love. all the best things in the universe couldn’t compare to this moment right now. in the end you had two soulmates, one, a home that you poured all your work into and two, a man who you poured your whole being into.

when the two of you break away you smile at your husband, knowing that this is everything you’ve ever wanted.

and the town whispered the same thing years into your marriage, “there goes the last great american dynasty.”

#—myfics ! #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x reader #draco x female reader #draco x american! reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy fluff #the last great american dynasty #taylor swift #cottagecore #harry potter fanfiction

[twsted-tales-of-scheherazade]

Hmm, new blog. 👀 I would like to request a fluff scenario of Sebek, Idia, and Azul with a fem!reader who is color blind. Colors can be hard sometimes.

Sebek first finds out about your condition one day when you point out how Malleus' flames didn't appear green in your eyes. They just looked brown. Naturally, the fae was shocked and asked if you were joking. You shook your head 'no' and explained how some humans like you suffer from color blindness. A specific color that he sees may not appear the same as what you see. 

It wasn't just Malleus' flames. Diasomnia's signature green was not present in your vision. The bright color looked brown in your eyes and you told your boyfriend as such. His shocked expression turned aghast. As expected of Sebek, he started going on about how it was unacceptable that you were not able to see his lord's brilliance. 

You were used to his tangents by now and he would most likely continue for quite a while. So you got comfy in your seat and watched in mild exasperation as the fae continued speaking.

The tea he brewed is, as always, very delicious.

"Lord Lilia...I would like you a question."

The ancient fae hummed and turned his curious gaze to the first year once he put down his bagpipe (up to this day, Sebek did not know where he got that instrument from). "What is it?"

"Is there perhaps a spell that can show someone dreams? Is it possible to meet in a dream?"

Lilia raised his eyebrows at the strange question. "Certainly. But what would you do with such a spell?"

The first year cleared his throat before he started explaining. "You see, [Name] has..." His senior stayed silent and listened attentively as he explained his plans. Once he was done, Lilia smiled. "My, my. Such a sweet gift...very well. I' shall help you."

"T-Thank you very much, Lord Lilia! I apologize for my lack of skill! I vow to make this up to you."

"Nonsense. Young love is a wonderful thing, Sebek. Just tell me how that little one reacts afterward."

The next day, you had spent a few hours after school with your boyfriend in the library, studying for the upcoming exams. Ever the gentleman, he escorted you to your dorm afterward. You gave him a kiss and bid goodnight. However, before you shut the door, you heard him say "You will have good dreams tonight. I guarantee it."

It honestly made you confused. That was a rather strange way to say good night to someone. Though you didn't think much of it and got ready for bed.

...

You open your eyes to the sight of a starry sky. You blinked before shooting up, looking around your unfamiliar surroundings. The sight of the glowing flowers surrounding you took your breath away.

"W-Wh-"

"I see the spell worked. As expected of Lord Lilia and the young maste."

You turned towards the source of the voice, eyes widening once you saw Sebek. "Y-You're hair...your clothes?! They're..." You spluttered.

He sent a smug smile your way. "How do you like it, [Name]? Surely, you see the brilliant green of Diasomnia now."

Your mind couldn't process what was happening all at once. You looked at your boyfriend then out into the clearing of flowers beneath the starry sky. It seemed to stretch on endlessly.

"Is this a dream?"

"It is. Yet, it isn't." He murmured, taking a seat beside you. "This is a world created by a powerful spell of the ancient faes. Lord Lilia had helped me with it along with the young master. To be honest, I was rather ashamed that he had to assist me too...however...he wished for you to see the world in all of its beauty. Are you happy with this, [Name]? 

"...Y-Yes! A hundred times, yes! I love this! I love this so much! I love you, Sebek! Thank you!" You cried before tackling him in a hug. His strong arms caught you easily. He could hear your delighted laughter right next to his ear, causing a small blush to rise to his cheeks.

"...You haven't seen anything yet." With a snap of his fingers, small green lights started rising out of the field of flowers. You gasped as hundreds of fireflies flew through the air.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let us explore this place. We have a few hours left before you wake up."

"Yeah!" 

Sebek watched from behind as you frolicked in the endless garden, pointing out new colors you have never seen before.

Illuminated by the green fireflies, you looked even more breath-taking in his eyes.

Idia knew that you were colorblind before your relationship with him started. It honestly amazed him how your condition altered the world you saw around you. He's looked up information about color blindness on the internet several times, and with each article he read, the fact that he would never understand the world you see became even more clear. 

Sometimes, he would even ask you what it was like. What colors do you see? How did your condition affect your life? Once, he showed you different pictures and with every answer, he finds himself looking at them intently, marveling about how you were seeing something different. Of course, once he catches your amused stare, he turns into an embarrassing mess and ends up curling into a ball while hiding his blushing face from view.

He never stopped thinking about you though. You said that you were used to the world you're seeing. You've been dealing with color blindness for years...but was there a way to improve your vision?

Apparently, there was. They were in the form of enchroma glasses. According to the website he found - he checked the sources and confirmed that the information there was legitimate, the glasses filter out specific color wavelengths and let people with color blindness see with normal vision. However, it was also mentioned that the effectiveness of it vary depending on the severity of color blindness. 

"...Filter...these glasses filter wavelengths...can I enhance that with magic?" He murmured to himself.

"Well now, Idia. This is a rather interesting project you've thought of." Azul stated as his sky blue eyes gazed at the enchroma glasses with interest. "Humans are rather interesting...so many aspects of them are new to us."

"...You'll help me, right? I already promised to give you that new board game you wanted." Idia said with a huff.

The octopus chuckled before pushing his glasses up. "Of course. It's a deal."

Both of them had a lot of experimenting to do.

...

A few weeks later, your boyfriend had asked you to visit his room since he had something to give you. Once you arrived, he urged you to sit on his bed as he rummaged through his work desk.

"Close your eyes first."

You raised your eyebrows but complied. A few moments later, you felt something being placed on your face...they felt like glasses? Why was he making you wear glasses?

"Alright. You can open them now." You felt a tingling sensation just as your eyelids lifted. What greeted you afterward was a completely different place. A gasp left your mouth as you looked around the room. 

'The colors...!'

They were more vibrant, more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. For the first time in your life, you were seeing the world that other people saw. What really took your breath away, however, was how Idia looked. Especially the glow of his hair that burned a bright blue. "Wow..." You murmured before reaching out and touching his locks.

"Wh-why are you touching my hair?" And then, the glowing blue turns into flaming red as your boyfriend stammers in embarrassment. "You're so weird..."

"Thank you, Idia. I...really wasn't expecting this."

"Y-Yeah...well...you always mention how it was a pain to deal with...the color blindness. I had Azul help me out...but it still took a long time to get the desired effect..."

"I see! I'll make sure to thank Azul too. These are amazing. And you know what I love the most about this?"

"...What?"

"I got to see you become even more beautiful in a different shade of blue." You chirped, pecking his rosy cheeks.

"Ugh...what the hell was that, so cringey..." He muttered as he pulled his hood up to hide his embarrassed face.

You laughed in response and as Idia stares at your delighted expression, he feels himself falling in love all over again.

“Angelfish? Is there something wrong?" Azul asked as he stared at your depressed state. You had curled up on the sofa with such a displeased frown that he can't help but worry. 

"...I wanna go into you octopus pot and stay there forever." You mumbled. The merman blinked in confusion before setting down his pen and taking a seat beside you. He patted your head, and in turn, you moved to lay your head on his lap. "Talk to me, angelfish. I'll listen to all your troubles."

"...I mixed up my clothes today."

"Pardon?"

You sighed before looking up at his eyes. "I got up late today so I had to rush. I wasn't paying attention so I wore different colored socks and shoes. My shirt was different too. It was super embarrassing..." Your frown got deeper and you hid your face with your hands, groaning. "I think someone took a video of me dashing through the school in those clothes...god. I must have looked like a moron."

Ah...so it was one of those "colorblind problems" you've told him about. It wasn't a condition that he encountered often and the most important fact he learned from his research on it was that it affects some aspects of your life. Being able to see colors are something that most creatures take for granted. But for people like you, he can at least understand that you're going to have a hard time.

"I see. Don't worry, I'll have Jade look into it. If such a video exists, then it will be deleted immediately."

"Thanks..." You mumbled, turning to the side and burying your face in his stomach. He gave you an exasperated smile, knowing that he won't be getting any more work done today.

"Shall we perhaps go to my room? It's more comfortable on the bed."

"Yeah..."

Now, you find yourself in his embrace, still upset about your mistake earlier in the day. "It's hard dealing with colors sometimes...and frustrating." 

"You can always .make a contract with me." He said with a chuckle. "I'm sure I can find a way to improve your vision."

"...Tempting. But, strangely enough, when I think about it...I don't want to. I've spent so many years with my color blindness, saw the world differently from most people...it would feel kind of wrong if I suddenly started seeing everything. Sorry...I complain a lot but I don't even want to make changes...I know it's confusing."

"That's alright. I am here to listen to other's woes after all."

"Like the sea witch, right?"

"Exactly."

You giggled before both of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. He pulled you close to his chest, letting you hear the sound of his beating heart.

"Hey, Azul...can you describe a color to me? What is that color to you? Anything will do..."

He hummed before kissing your forehead. "Alright. I can certainly try. Let me see..."

“...Blue is the color of the ocean. My home filled with mysteries that humans have yet to understand. It is also the sky we see on a sunny afternoon. Do you remember, angelfish? When Jade had dragged us to the mountains, we found a clearing and decided to lay down and rest. We looked up at the sky and stared at the clouds. 

And then, when the sun had set and night took over, it becomes a canvas, being filled with twinkling stars. You loved that sight too. Why we almost spent the night in the mountains because you wanted to look at those stars and engrave it into your memory.

It’s the sound of rain falling outside. The rainy weather keeps you from going outside, so you sit by the window, watching the sky's tears. Your thoughts drift and you enjoy the warmth of a blanket around your shoulders.

It is also the color of my eyes, is it not? You've told me over and over again how you loved my eyes, glittering behind my glasses. I admit that when you first said that, it had me quite flustered."

You laughed at his statement. Azul's flustered expression was a sight to see indeed.

“Blue is the frost we see when everything becomes a winter wonderland. As we spend winter together, we also await the welcoming of a new year where we'll make new memories.

...It will also mean the sadness we feel in our lives. But do not fret, because beyond that sadness will surely be something wonderful. It is a sign that you will grow as a person through the pain you've felt..."

The merman trailed off as he heard the sound of your steady breathing. It seems you fell asleep. He smiled at you fondly before closing his eyes as well. Tomorrow is a brand new day.

"There's no need to worry, angelfish. My eyes are yours. I will let you see the world through them for as long as you need me to."

Another story has been told. To tell you the truth, I did not know much about color blindness and I wasn’t sure if I portrayed it well in these scenarios, even if I did do a bit of reading around the subject. Regardless of its possible inaccuracies, I do hope you still enjoyed it, traveler.

References: 

https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/513nkf/wp_explain_a_color_to_a_blind_person/

https://www.thecut.com/2018/02/my-life-as-a-woman-with-colorblindness.html

Credits for the images used on this post:

Border: https://pngtree.com/freepng/vector-title-frame_3573975.html

Lantern decorations: https://pngtree.com/freepng/ramadan-decorations-luminous-ramadan-lantern-moon-and-star_5356170.html

Divider: https://pngtree.com/freepng/european-border-curtain-pattern_4068944.html

#Alf layla wa layla #Sebek Zigvolt #twst Sebek #Idia Shroud #twst Idia #Azul Ashengrotto #twst Azul #Diasomnia #Ignihyde #Octavinelle

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 16

Previous: How Cricket Got Her Name 

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Reader/OFC/You

Genre: Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Government Agent AU

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 3.04K

Warnings: Swearing 

Summary: Our lovely P.I. goes on the search for Min Yoongi, and stumbles into the identity of the mystery man with Taehyung. 

(this is... rough? did not expect it to be so long...) 

Missing Min Yoongi

Present Day

           My sister always tells me she’s given me all she can, that she can’t help me past my one favor a year. It’s a ploy, a deception, a boldfaced lie she tells at work or anytime we’re in earshot of anyone else. Does she misuse her government clearance? Yes. Does she defy laws and challenge the ethical code? Yes. Has she ever gotten caught? No. You’d think the government would put more tabs on her, considering her sister is a registered and licensed PI, but no, no one seems to bat an eye.

           Min Yoongi, Park Yoongi, Yoongi, is nonexistent. I barely understand what he did at Lee Enterprises, let alone how he ended up bedding Euna. He supposedly comes from no money, no name to build off of, nothing. His grades were fine, his college experience came and went with nary a note of youthful rebellion. Now, now that he’s no longer at Enterprises, I cannot fucking find him. Nothing on the web, nothing in the statewide system, nothing in the national system. No death certificates, no marriage licenses, nothing.

           All I’ve got are his charges, well, Euna’s charges against him.

           Cheating in the 1st degree, no proof, no photos or receipts or basic evidence of his behavior. She had nothing but her recollection of the fight they had, and minimal information on what led to the break up. From her manifesto, it seems that Yoongi was pulling away and she clung to him, claws drawing blood, trying to get him to stay. He didn’t, clearly. With only that to go off of, it’s no wonder I can’t find Min Yoongi, and I’m beginning to think that just maybe, Min Yoongi doesn’t exist. He’s her Snuffleupagus, and I’m starting to not believe.

           While I’m unsure if Yoongi exists, I do know a person who does.

           The man with Taehyung.

           Spectacled and broad shouldered, quaffed hair and arms the size of tree trunks, this man exists. He goes to the gym regularly, religiously, makes his coffee at home, and frequents his local nursery. The man is obsessed with plants, it seems unhealthy. Multiple days a week he’s carrying one, or more, I have photos of him watering them, speaking to them… He tends to them with such care, such love, it’s mesmerizing. He goes to work, some corporation, and once a week meets Taehyung. They’re clearly pals, best friends, brothers. They laugh and eat and enjoy one another. It’s cute, their friendship date. Once in a while, Jimin joins them. The three laugh uproariously and often draw attention for their volume. The unidentified man doesn’t seem to understand how loud he is, his baritone resonating enough for me to hear.

           I haven’t intentionally bumped into the three of them, yet, but I’ve stationed myself near enough to hear bits and pieces of their conversations. They never discuss work, only music they’re listening to, books they’re reading, podcasts, plants, general culture. Have I written down a few of the artists and podcasts they listen to? Yes. Do I feel dirty about it? Yes.

           But it’s the job, and I tail them for a month before a package arrives. A package with my name on it, waiting outside my apartment door. It’s not addressed, no stamps or packing label. It’s new, not reused as a shipping box or gifted for the umpteenth time, no dingy tape sticking to its brown coating. The box is sitting, like it’s appeared out of thin air. A secure building is only as secure as the tenants make it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the owner snuck in behind some dummy who didn’t see the harm in letting a potential rapist, stalker, murder, into the building. Taking the package inside, and as my blood continues to cool and chills run down my spine, I delicately open it.

           I know, it could be a bomb. However, the only thought calming me down is the knowledge that my life has never once been a Shonda Rhimes production and thus, I’m not really worried this package is a bomb. Frankly, that’s far more sophisticated than any of the people I’ve worked for and gives them too much credit.

           Inside, there are copious amounts of surveillance photos and a note, written in a script that I’ve seen before.

           “That was your last warning / The line has been drawn and you’re bleeding / Next time, face to face is how we’ll be meeting”  

           Whoever heard of a stalker rhyming?

           I bag the evidence to toss under my bed so Jungkook won’t find it and pull out my list of potential threats.

Check It Once, Check It Twice

William Daniels

Cheated on his wife of 5 years with a stewardess who flew almost exclusively on his flights (big shock)

Threatened to ban me from American Airlines -  Jokes on him, I don’t fly American

Photos in the act & audio recordings

Wife divorced him immediately

He has to pay alimony out the nose

Lives in the area

Allanah McMahon

Arrested and tried for insider trading and embezzlement

Discovered who I was when I was subpoenaed to testify

Still in jail

My testimony added a few years to her sentence … oops

Cassie Harrington

Set up a Multi-Level Marketing scheme

Tried to hide out in Hawaii – but changed her Instagram to private after I’d already followed her

Ordered to pay back all the money she stole

On parole

Adam Gregory

Tried to run an illegal adoption agency for homosexual, non binary couples

Paid a fine and on parole – forbidden from creating any LLC’s or Incorporating

Brian Welch

Pissed that I found evidence of his partner cheating but turned him in on charges of possession of child pornography

In jail for kiddy porn and for threatening my life

His husband got everything despite the infidelity

           You acquire quite detailed list of people who want to threaten your life on the daily, but then again, wasn’t it Audre Lorde who said “I’m deliberate and afraid of nothing?” I can’t be afraid. If I’m afraid, they have the power. They have the power to intimidate me, to run my life for me, to make my decisions. I will not back down because they got caught. But I will protect myself, I will keep my license for my gun up and go to the shooting range often. I will strengthen the locks and security of my apartment, and I will ask Jungkook to stay over more, or sleep at his.

           I will not back down, not when Lee Euna has paid me what seems like the cost of tuition at Princeton for a year and wants answers. We signed a contract, didn’t we?

           And who am I if my word is no longer worth anything?

           Instead of harping on the sickening feeling that I’m being watched 24/7, I run through my plans for bumping into Taehyung and his friends. In the weeks that I’ve continued to follow him, he’s solidified Wednesday’s as his night for dinner with friends, and Thursdays as his cultural exploration. He goes to museum openings, concerts, movies, plays, clubs, all on Thursdays. While those nights are fun for me to watch and put on my expense account, it’s Wednesdays that I adore. I love following him from his house to the restaurants and am excited each week to see what he and his friends have chosen.

          This week, it’s an authentic Mexican restaurant. Slipping my coat on, I give them a few minutes before following in.

           The sound of mariachi welcomes me into the yellow painted restaurant. The furniture, dark mahogany against the vibrant walls, is full of people. I note the variety of sombreros, the different colors and patterns, the meanings hidden within the stitchwork. It’s not a large restaurant, but big enough to fit a few large groups of 7-10 people, and plenty of space for smaller groups such as the three men. The hostess asks if I want to sit at the bar, and I request a table near the men. Sitting a few feet away, I’m able to pick up their conversation easily. Instead of jotting it down, I hit record and let the metaphorical tape play.

           “Oh, it wasn’t that bad!” The mystery man says.

           “It was awful, Taehyungie couldn’t stop laughing, every time he hit the ball it went flying in the wrong direction,” Jimin says.

           “I was trying so hard!” Taehyung laughed.

           “That’s the problem, you were trying too hard,” The man tells him. “You’re too pure of heart.”

           “I am not,” Taehyung shook his head.

           “I know, you’ve experienced a lot, Tae,” Jimin says.

           “Joon, here’s the question,” Taehyung says, and I’m momentarily distracted by the utterance of the name, Joon. “You get to pick next week, we heading back to that barbeque place?”

           Jimin erupts in another fit of laughter, Taehyung following suit. It’s cute, watching them interact. I wonder if Jungkook has friends he does things like this with… those nights we aren’t together, if he has friends to spend his time with.

           I wait until they’ve left to take a glance at the signed bill on their table, Taehyung Kim is scribbled, no evidence of the other men, and I’m about to bag evidence when I hear my name.

           “Y/N?” Taehyung asks.

           “Taehyung! That was you!” I smile.

           “Have you been here the whole time?” Taehyung’s eyebrows express more than anyone’s I’ve ever seen.

           “I, yeah. I wasn’t sure it was you and Jimin. I didn’t want to interrupt,” I tell him.

           “Oh, you could’ve! Don’t worry about them, we’ve been friends a long time,” Taehyung smiles, it’s boxy and wide, the edges curling as his eyes soften.

           I’ve already started my dance, a waltz to an even tempo and I’ve got the next five paces planned. “Who was that new guy?”

           “Why, you single?” Taehyung smirks, his lips no longer joyful but devious.

           “I just was curious,” I reply, “And no, I’m not single, remember?”

           “Oh yes, yes, Jungkook,” Taehyung recalls with a nod.

           “You, Jimin and that other guy, go way back?” I lead him, it’s easy to lead Taehyung, he’s pure of heart, the most honest intentions in his eyes.

           “Mm, yes,” He continues smiling at me.

           “Your dinner looked fun, I’ll definitely be coming back to this place,” I tell him. It’s true, maybe I will bring Jungkook by one night when I know these three men won’t be around.

           “Yeah, we like it. We try a new restaurant every week. It’s a fun no work zone,” His arms are relaxed at his sides, one hand slipping slowly into his pocket, his cardigan open and glasses pressed close to his ebony eyes.

           “I like that, no work zone,” I agree, I wish I had one of those.

           “Yes, it helps clear the mind,” Taehyung tells me.

           “Do the three of you work together?” I inquire.

           “Kind of, we have a lot of the same shared interests,” he sidesteps.

           I nod, the final step in our dance presenting itself. “Very cool, well I don’t want to keep you from Jimin and –

           “Joon, yeah, very considerate of you. Maybe I’ll see you at the dog park again?” He asks.

           “Oh god, I hope not, Maisie is a nightmare,” I laugh.

           “Well have a good night, Y/N, take care!” He says as he walks out the door. I stand, watching, pretending to not notice how he gets in the car swiftly, not looking back.

           Joon.

           Joon.

           Joon.

           What kind of a name is Joon? If Taehyung and Jimin, and Jungkook, and Seokjin… and Yoongi, are all Korean, must Joon be short for something Korean?

           Glancing at my phone, it’s only 8:30PM, if I hurry, I can get in another few hours of work before I’m overcome with exhaustion and anxiety. But what will I find?

Oh Joon

Kim Joon

Lee Joon

Joon-Ho

Joon-Hee

Joon-Hyuk

Joon-Ki

Joon-Tae

Joon-Young

Byung-Joon

Ha-Joon

Hee-Joon

Hyung-Joon

Jae-Joon

Kyung-Joon

Jae-Joon

Kyung-Joon

Yong-Joon

Nam-Joon

Joon-Su

Ye-Joon

           Not to mention add in the top 5 Korean last names, and I’ve got hundreds of possibilities. Luckily, I can run the name against the address of the apartment building Taehyung picked Joon up from. Being a PI means I have access to the state databases, which gives me names and addresses. In the building, there’s one Joon, a Namjoon, Kim Namjoon. I pull the information before digging into my search.

           Unlike the seemingly nonexistence of Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon is present. Every search result yields a perfectly manicured article dating anywhere from the year of his birth to age sixteen, and then, much like everyone else on this case, the trail begins to run cold. Whatever happened to him during high school, still radiates through his file. Whether he’s shaken it or not, that’s the question.

           No known career or job at all, his status as a prodigy in math, linguistics and rhetoric is astonishing. One of the highest IQ’s of recent memory, he’d mastered calculus by the time he was 8, besting PhD’s by 13, and then in a blaze of glory, disappearing by 16. He was studied, written about, documented, photographed, and somehow managed to be nominated for a Nobel Prize… how he accomplished all of that during puberty is beyond me. Not only does he accomplish that, but then, disappears completely, without a trace. How?

I’m ready to pack it in when someone steps into my office.

           “I saw the light on,” She says.

           “Ms. Lee, what do I owe this surprise visit?” I ask. This is the exact opposite of what I wanted to do tonight.

           “I wanted to, to talk to you,” She takes a few steps forward, pausing to ask for unspoken permission.

           “Please, sit. What did you want to talk to me about?” I lean back, hoping she can’t see the bags forming under my eyes or the tears from the yawn I’m stifling.

           “I wanted to tell you about, about why I need you to find Min Yoongi,” Euna informs me. She’s dressed in what can only be described as winter white, and only as a cashmere sweatsuit. Never have I ever seen such glamor in my dingy office. I feel bad that she’s risking the integrity of her outfit by being here.

           “Oh, okay,” I sit up and reach for a notebook. “Do you want me to write this down?”

           “No, you don’t need to. We can just talk between women, between friends,” Euna’s voice is soft. The slack in her jaw, the demur manner in which her hands are placed on her lap, it’s evident she doesn’t know how to be girlfriends. Raised by her family, groomed to take over, friends was never a word in her vocabulary.

           “I wanted you to know that I really saw a future with Yoongi,” She starts. “You know that place in your heart where you hold all your hopes?”

           “Yes,” I say hesitantly.

           Her eyes narrow in warning, “Do you have someone, someone who’s beginning to fill that space?”

           “Um, yeah,” I reply.

           “I thought that’s what Yoongi was. I thought we were, we were building something. Jun-Seo had Jimin, they thought they were building an illustrious future together, but one day he disappeared too.” She pinches the slight bridge of her nose, inhaling slowly to steady her nerves. “I don’t know what changed in our relationship. Yoongi didn’t want me anymore, he didn’t want to be around me, or with me at all. A switch flipped, like one day he realized he didn’t love me in the first place. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know why, but when your entire future is destroyed, do you stand back and watch it burn?”

           “Do you want me to answer that?” I ask.

           “Sure, what I did after that was terrible, but it was within reason. Everything I did was within reason. I tried to hold onto him, I did what I thought was right to get him to stay and he just, ran. Bolted, broke up with me on the phone like I’m Taylor Swift in 2012. Maybe I am,” Euna rolls her eyes, the comparison both too true and too terrifying. “At least Seokjin had the kindness to break up with me in person. But Yoongi? The coward! He knew I loved him. He knew I would carry his child, would marry him, would love him eternally and then some. I would’ve done anything for him. Even after he refused to go family dinners or go on trips with Seo and Jimin, after he started lying and cheating and stealing. He broke my heart, shattered it. If anyone is to blame for what happened after our relationship, it’s him.”

           Interested peaked, I inquire “What happened?”

           “It’s in my document,” She snaps.

           “The handwritten one?” I clarify.

           Rolling her delicate ebony irises, “Yes, of course.”

           “The abortion, the embezzlement, insider trading?” I try to rattle off the accusations she’d detailed. Somewhere I had a list and had sorted them by man, but damn, there were a lot of them.

           “Yes,” She snips.

           “That’s all true?” I ask again. The look she gives me is unwarranted, this is the first time in months, nearly a year, that she has sat down with me and discussed the charges. I am well within my right as her Private Investigator to ask clarifying questions.

           “Do you make a conscious decision to not believe your clients? Am I not paying you enough Y/N?” Euna snaps.

           “I’m sorry,” I respond.

           “I should go, I expect next week at our meeting you will have an update on the mystery man,” She stands.

           “Yes, yes, I will,”

           “Good, oh, there was a note under your door. I didn’t pick it up,” She turns and walks, stepping gingerly over the note. Scrambling behind her, I pick up the folded paper, and scrawled in crystal clear letters it reads:

           Cricket, was driving past when I saw the light on. Why are you working? Come to mine when you’re done, it’s been three restless nights without you.

          XO – Bunny 

           Fuck me, I love him.

Next: Cricket & Bunny Pt. 1 

#BTS #Jeon Jungkook fanfic #Jeon Jungkook x you #Jeon Jungkook x reader #codename #code name #code name cupid #codename cupid #BTS fluff #min yoongi #park jimin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #secret agent au #government agent au #secret agent au #BTS agent #houseofddaeng #thebtswritersclub #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bangtanarmynet

[deermi]

The Enchanted | Part 1

Summarry: As a fairy, you would never expect a prince in the Meadow. Yet here you are with Oh Sehun standing in front of you, begging to put a spell on his family. But fairies don’t do anything for free, do they?

Gnere: Nothing specific

Warnings: None

AU: Royal, fantasy

Pairing: Oh Sehun x Reader

Word count: 4,5k~

Author’s note: Say hello to prince Sehun in this fic.

The sound of wind gently blowing through the trees surrounding the small lake and tingle the colorful flowers on the ground filled my ear. I was sitting on one of the bigger branches, my feet barely hanging above the surface of the water as I let the breeze caress my skin. The fresh air filled my lungs as I took slow, deep breaths savouring the feeling of being alone with mother nature.

The Meadow was surely my favourite place in the whole world. The dazzling scenery was calm, yet vibrant and full of life - just like all of us living here. It was fairies’ shelter, a place every other creature was scared to enter, anxious due to the rumours about some unknown spells surrounding the area. Even if they were just rumors, fairies being themselves wouldn’t like to share their beloved home place with anybody else. 

The beautiful lake located just in the centre of The Meadow was what I loved about this place the most. I could spend hours just looking at the soft waves caressing the sand as the refreshing breeze tingled everything else around it. Right in front of me I could see a small group of fairies laughing and chatting at the shore. I wasn’t the only one who loved the lake - probably most of us did, but the spot I was sitting in was my secret, everyday hideout, nobody knew about. From this place I had the perfect view on surface of the water and everything that surrounded it.

That’s why I almost felt my heart stop when I heard some twigs cracking on the ground under somebody’s feet. Someone was making their way towards my spot in rather fast pace not minding the sounds they was making. Why would a fairy be in such a rush? We were free creatures, living our lives of casting spells, tricks on others and never ending resting.

But what I saw was not a fairy. Not even a different creature of the Woods. My eyes went wide as I scanned the human boy who had just entered my view. His tall frame made him look strong and intimidating even when his clothes were slightly dirty from walking through the forest surrounding the Meadow. He moved his dark hair out of his face while panting heavily, making me immediately think that he must’ve been running to get here. 

There was no way I could’ve mistaken him, despite the fact that humans were staying away from the Woods and their inhabitants. He was Oh Sehun - the firstborn of the humans’ royal family and their crown prince. 

His eyes darted to mine, almost immediately after he entered my hideout and noticed me sitting on the branch. For a moment we were just eyeing each other feeling rather uneasy because of the other’s presence. 

I had never seen a human in the Meadow before, but definitely wasn’t afraid of him. However I couldn’t help the thoughts inside my head. How did he get here? Was he brave enough to come to the Meadow despite all of those fake rumors about the spells? Or was he just desperate? But why would the humans’ prince be desperate? The only thing he didn’t have was magic so why would he come to the fairies’ home?

He took a deep breath, as if he had almost felt scared of talking to me.

“Can you help me?” his voice came out surprisingly confident without even a hint of insecurity 

I furrowed my eyebrows. What would a prince want from a fairy?

Still, I nodded slowly motioning him to continue. 

“I am Oh Sehun, the crown prince of humans, but probably you know that.” he said “And my coronation is supposed to occur in two weeks.”

The boy took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a brief second before speaking up again.

“But I don’t want that. So that’s why I’m asking...”

He paused one more time as I remained seated on the branch, still as confused as I had been before.

“Do me a favour.” he said while looking me directly in the eyes “Put a spell on them. Put a spell on my family.”

I giggled. So that’s what it was all about? He was afraid of the responsibility that came with the crown? I never would’ve expected that a human could be afraid of being in power. Without any spells, abnormal strength, or any other kind of other magical ability they seemed to always want it.

But who were I to say no? 

“Okay.” 

The Prince let out a sigh of relief.

“But fairies don’t do anything for free.” I added quickly making him furrow his eyebrows “We always need something in return.”

He should’ve known better than to simply ask me to do something. We didn’t know ‘favours’; for us only ‘deals’ existed. I couldn’t lie - fairies are selfish creatures. But so are humans.

I jumped of the branch right into the water, splashing some of it around me as I let the waves flow around my bare feet. Slowly, I walked out of the lake and came closer to the prince. His breath sped up - he definitely wasn’t used to compay of any of the creatures of the Woods.

“What do you want than?” there was no sound of fear in his voice, just like expected from the heir

I smirked knowing that he’ll do anything to get what he wants. I could read that on his face. He was Oh Sehun and I had him wrapped around my finger. 

We were somehow alike - Sehun and I. As a fairy I had everything I wanted in my long life. Eternal youth, the power of magic, a beautiful place to live, but there was one thing I lacked. Just like Sehun didn’t get to experience magic, I didn’t get to experience what his life looked like. So when he had asked my what I wanted in return I instantly knew what my answer would be.

“You’ll let me into the castle.” 

For a moment a confused look appeared on his face, but it was quickly gone. His eyes didn’t leave mine for second and, despite his shaky breath, all I could see in them was true determination.

Without hesitating he said “Deal.”

My lips curled up into a smirk as I eyed the heir. I started to wonder whether he knew how risky it actually was to let me inside the castle where every royal, including himself, lived. We, the creatures of the Woods, were what humans avoided and dreaded the most. One of their main rules was not to let us anywhere near them at all cost. And now Prince Oh Sehun was breaking it.

“Tell me.” he scanned my frame as if to look for any differences between our bodies “What would a fairy want from a castle?”

I let out a chuckle and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I want to try it out. Your type of life.” I explained “It’s the only thing I can’t have as a fairy because you, humans, are so afraid of us. However, I think that you might be an exception.”

“And why is that?” he asked me

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a human even dare to think about entering the Meadow.” I crooked my head to the side and continued with a mocking tone “Haven’t your parents told you about the spells surrounding this place?”

“They have.” he scoffed “But it turns out that it was just a bunch of lies somebody came up with and now people believe it.” 

I laughed and took a few steps closer to the Prince. He was hovering over me with his tall, strong frame. Some would say that he even looked intimidating, but not to me. Because I knew how simple the whole situation was. Oh Sehun was just a human asking a magical creature to do something for him.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you were brave enough to come here.” I smiled at him teasingly

Our bodies didn’t touch each other, but I was close enough to feel the Prince’s scent. He smelled like anise and freshly cut plants, most probably due to the fact that he had been getting through the forest a few moments before. 

“May I ask you what’s your name?” suddenly he spoke up one more time “Since you already know mine.”

I didn’t bother stretching out my hand to him and remained as close as I was before, testing both his mind, heart and all of the senses.

“Y/N.” I introduced myself briefly “And I’m a fairy. I don’t have any fancy titles like you do.”

“So, Y/N…” he trailed of “How do you want me to sneak you into the castle?”

My head flew back the moment I started to laugh one more time.

“Oh no.” I snorted “You need to figure this out yourself. You’re the one who wants the deal to happen, aren’t you?”

Before he could answer me I spoke again.

“If you’re really eager on your wish coming true than come back here tomorrow. Or just any other day, but with a real plan. Not just an idea of it”

The Prince studied my face carefully and ran his hand through his messed ebony hair in a swift motion. Without a word he turned around and dashed back into the forest leaving me alone with a grin on my face. For a moment I could still hear the sounds of cracking twigs and leaves shuffling as Prince Oh Sehun tried to get out of the Meadow.

When I heard the same familiar noises coming from the forest I immediately turned myself to the side, splashing the water I was standing in around me. 

“I actually thought you’d give up, Prince.” my eyebrows raised as I noticed Oh Sehun stepping out of the trees into my hideout “I didn’t know you were that desperate.”

The boy stood in front of me once again, in the same place as the day before. Both his hair and outfit were disheveled and his breath was heavy. He indeed was brave - visiting the Meadow two days in a row. For a moment I started to wonder what would've happened if somebody had found out that he was sneaking out of the castle to come here.

“I’m not desperate.” he answered rather harshly “I am just making sure I’ll get what I want.”

Today the Prince seemed definitely more confident - the previous insecurity mixed with a hint of fear disappeared almost completely.

“So I came here with a plan, just like you told me to.” he continued

I took a few steps in the water causing the surface to gently flow around my ankles.

“I’m all ears.”

The Prince took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few second, as if he was wondering whether to tell me what he had planned or not.

“I am going to introduce you as a member of the nobility.” he announced “And as my fiancée.”

I turned my head around abruptly, sending him a scolding look. Within a moment I got out of the lake and stepped closer to him.

“Are you being serious right now?” my tone was firm “Why would I agree to this stupid idea of yours?”

“Yes I am serious, but I have everything planned out. So don’t worry about it - nothing that you don’t want will happen.” his confidence didn’t vanish, but he raised his hands trying to calm me down “It’s just a title that you will have for the time you spend at the castle. Also the status of prince’s fiancée will allow you to do whatever you desire there. I guarantee you that. You will have everything there - an enormous chamber, myriads of dresses, or service who will obey your orders without a word.”

His huge promises made my heart beat with excitement. What he told me was exactly what I had imagined the palace life to look like. 

“And have you thought about what is going to happen the moment I put the spell on your parents? You want me to make them change their minds about your coronation and becoming the new king. But your human kingdom will need a new ruler anyways.”

“I thought about it.” he answered quickly “And it should be my younger brother.”

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Do you want it to be a part of the spell? Tricking them into thinking that your brother should become the next king?”

He nodded and asked me “What do you want in return for that?”

I smirked. Oh Sehun surely was a fast learner.

“You’ll let me stay in the castle for however long I want.” I demanded “If I hate it, I’ll leave. But if I enjoy it, I’ll keep you company for at least some time.”

He perfectly knew that in my case ‘some time’ could even mean eternity. For the Prince it could mean having to secretly keep a fairy inside the castle walls for his whole human life. Not only was it risky, but also dangerous for him, his family members and every single person that lived there. The other thing was that if somebody found out they would most probably banish him. 

The Prince’s eyes darted to the side, trying not to look at me as he started to think. I could almost feel all of the thoughts and concerns running through his mind.

“I agree.” he said finally 

“I knew you would.” I teased “I told you that you’re desperate. Even though you’re trying to convince me that it’s just pure determination.”

He breathed in through his nose loudly, his anger slowly starting to build up. Still, as a royal he was reserved and didn’t let emotions take over him that easily so just a few seconds later a calm look appeared on his face back again.

“How would you like to seal the deal?” he asked me with a gentle tone “Do you want us to sign a contract, or something?”

“Oh, no.” I shook my head “Only demons do that. We don’t need that kind of useless, formal stuff. Our deals are more like… They’re more like promises. And it’s up to you weather you break it or not.”

“Fairies never break promises?” he raised his eyebrow at my words

“Never. You humans only see as untrustworthy tricksters who use their magic to tease the others.” humans didn’t really think out of the box. They only had their one close minded point of view they were too stubborn, or perhaps too scared to deny. “I can’t lie - some of the things you have in your minds about us probably are true, but we definitely don’t break promises. And, like I had already told you, we’re not like demons. Deals with us are more clear and there are no hidden parts of it that could possibly harm you.”

“It seems like there are a lot of things about fairies that I don’t know.”

The Prince was smirking at me. I had a hunch that he was somehow different from other humans. Or maybe I felt like that because he was the first human I had encountered in ages. Still, there was something about him that made my attitude more welcoming. Maybe it was his confidence, or prince-like posture. I could even say that I sort of liked him.

With my eyes locked with his chocolate ones I whispered stretching out each word “You will be surprised how many.” 

I was calling Sehun brave and confident, yet I forgot that the only reason I was actually even talking to him was because he didn’t want to become the new king. It was that sort of weird paradox in which you are sure about something, but later another fact excludes that thing. The Prince was far away from a coward. However he was trying to run away from his responsibilities as an heir.

“Well, I didn't actually ask you about it yesterday.” I started, my curiosity taking over “But why are you doing this? Dealing with a fairy not to become the new king?”

He let out an annoyed sigh.

“I don’t want it. I don’t want the crown.” he wasn’t looking at me like he was ashamed of the words coming out of his mouth “It’s not like I’m scared though. I just want to live my life to the fullest without the feeling that I’m forever attached to the throne. Without a doubt people would expect me to be like my father. And I don’t think I would meet their demands because we’re so different. My brother is more like him and that’s another reason why I think he is more suitable for this role.”

There was something in his voice that caused me to believe him in some way. I didn’t know the humans’ royal family well, actually only what they looked like, but the Prince’s tone was serious enough to make me think that at least a part of what he had said was true.

‘In the castle I will have a lot of time to verify it.’ I thought

“Can you meet me tomorrow somewhere near the castle?” he asked me quickly like he didn’t want me to dig into the topic more “Or maybe I can come here tomorrow and we’ll go together? It’s up to you.”

When he had come here yesterday it had just been a conversation, a one full of weird tension, between a human and a creature from the Woods And now it was different. Maybe he had realized that fairies aren’t that scary or dangerous as he had thought before? Or maybe it was me who had changed their mind about the humans’ hier?

“Meet me outside the Meadow. Meeting close to the castle might be too dangerous.” I said 

“Alright.” he nodded without any hesitation and lessened the tension in his shoulders

Prince Oh Sehun unquestionably lit a spark of curiosity inside me.

#exo #exo scenarios #exo imagines #exo sehun #sehun #oh sehun #sehun scenarios #sehun imagines #exo series #exo fluff #exo angst #sehun angts #sehun fluff #exo smut #sehun smut #sehun series #exo reactions

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part fifteen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±5200 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part fifteen: The sun rises and it’s time to bring the herd home, but not before Dean reconnects with an old friend. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Dean & Rocko scene: ‘Road To Perdition’ - The City Of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra. Final scene: ‘Ride’ - Hans Zimmer. Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: It’s about damn time, ain’t it? Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​ and @winchest09​ for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     Slow hoofbeats, little rocks and earth crunching underneath the thousand pound animal. Surprisingly light on its feet, never disturbing the quiet, as it scours the land for the last grass of the season. Calm breaths, taking in over a gallon of oxygen with each inhalation, followed by a soft purring sound when the air is pushed out through the nose. The cold of the night lingers and the air condensates. The first glint of the sun catches the moist clouds coming from its nostrils, turning the fierce creature into a dragon. Kind eyes, calm when it’s safe, but scanning the environment nevertheless, always on the lookout for predators. Pointy ears, flitting back and forth independently, picking up even the smallest whisper, like two little space antennas scanning the sky. 

     Dean watches the herd from a distance, with Y/N still sound asleep in his arms. He can tell she’s exhausted, because she didn’t stir once in the past three hours. The cowboy made sure she was fully covered with the unzipped sleeping bag, holding her close to keep her warm. She seems so comfortable, so trusting; it humbles him. Apparently she’s completely at ease being so close, her self-consciousness burned away by his never ending adoration. Of course he noticed the hesitation when they all went for a swim yesterday evening. She wanted to disappear, covering herself with her arms crossed in front of her chest, her expression shameful. And then there was the insecurity just hours ago, her mind clearly spiraling when he couldn’t give her the confirmation she so desperately seeks. Dean wonders what happened for her to lack confidence. If she has some douchebag ex-boyfriend maybe, who didn’t treat her right. 

     Staying awake wasn’t any trouble overnight, because he had plenty to think about. He’s not the guy to analyse his every thought, he'd rather stuff it all down and ignore them all together. But spending several hours under the Yucca tree, in an embrace with the one person that has his mind reeling, left him no option. So many questions, so much doubt. He wishes he had more answers, he wishes he could have a glance into the future in order to tell if he’s on the right path. If he can make it work with her, if he can step up to become the man she’s looking for. If she will stay with him, even after the internship, because the thought of her leaving brings back an anxiety that he used to experience when his family threatened to fall apart, which is exactly what happened, eventually. He came to one conclusion, though; he’s not going to let her go. 

     His gaze remains absently fixed on the horses, who have moved a few hundred yards closer. The oldest stallion of the herd had spotted the wranglers about an hour ago, but after careful observation decided that they weren’t a threat. It’s a beautiful sight, beams peeking over the mountain range, framing the horses’ silhouettes with gold. Small bugs twirl in the air like fireflies, surrounding the large animals. Dean squints and tips his head forward when the rising sun becomes brighter. The warmth is welcome; he hasn’t moved an inch over the past hours, not wanting to wake Y/N, causing the cold to settle in his bones. 

     A new dawn means they’ve got work to do and Dean is left no choice but to wake the heavy sleeper. The arrival of morning does the job for him, however; even with her eyes closed, the light seeps through. It triggers her to turn into him and hide her face in the crook between his shoulder and his chest. Y/N grunts, disagreeing with the time, and Dean sniggers. He’s not much of a morning person either, but his intern takes the cake.      “Mornin’, Yankee.”       She opens one eye and looks up, meeting an amused yet adoring smile.       “Morning…” Groggy, she rubs her face with the back of her hand. “Five more minutes?”      “You’ll miss the view,” Dean says, nodding at the horizon.

     His eyes reflect the scenery he’s beholding, the colors vibrant as the sun hits them just right, adding amber to the jade in his irises. It peaks her interest, and Y/N turns her head to face the new day. Only leaving a crack for the light to pass her long lashes, she takes in the mesmerizing scenery. On the edges of her vision, a darker shade of blue transitions into a lighter one, the tones changing from cold to warm as they enclose the sun. Cirrus clouds catch the first rays, curling across the sky like wisps of silk hair. From cobalt to pale turquoise, from apricot to saffron. The painter of this picture used every color on the spectrum. And smack in the middle, the sun rises. So bright, she seems to be aware that planets orbit around her. The Superstition Mountains stand proud and tall in the south, the peaks catching the early light, making the volcanic formations seem blood orange, as if lava is erupting from the earth once again. 

     The herd is only a couple of hundred yards away now, grazing calmly. They don’t seem to  be aware of the humans sitting on the top of the hill, almost as if Y/N is in a cinema, watching a gigantic movie screen. It would explain the idyllic Wild West decor, because such magic can only be created with CGI in a Hollywood studio. But they are here. Y/N can smell the air, sweet and earthy. She can hear the wind rustling small bushes and blowing gently through the canyons. She can feel Dean, the warmth radiating from his large form that has enveloped her.       “It’s breathtaking,” she says softly, leaning into him.      He places a soft kiss on her hair, and she smiles, content.       “Thanks for letting me sleep.”      He shrugs it off. “You needed it. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”      Y/N sits up and rolls her neck to loosen her muscles.       “It’s going to be intense, isn’t it?” she guesses, getting to her feet.      “I’d call it adventurous and exciting,” Dean chuckles, stretching his back now that he can move freely again. “Just like the old spaghetti westerns, y’know? Well… without the gun slinging and bounty hunts. It’ll be awesome, trust me.”

     Y/N sniggers, strolling around the Yucca tree to meet her horse. She finds it cute how the tough cowboy, who’s closing in on thirty, is beaming like a little kid. After ruffling Joplin’s mane, she takes a small case from one of the saddlebags, which holds her toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste. She has found a new level of appreciation for these simple products of hygiene, given that she has been stripped from luxury and has to do with the absolute necessary. Especially since she’s not just kissing Dean in her dreams these days.

     Looking forward to the day on his doorstep, Dean pulls his radio phone from the front saddlebag, turning it on and twisting the knob to find the channel.      “Benny? Come in?”      He lets go of the PTT button, the device beeping once when he does, then it’s quiet for a moment. Mirroring Y/N’s actions, he one handedly fishes out his toothbrush as well, but when his friend doesn’t respond, he pushes the talk button again.      “You better get your lazy ass out of bed, Lafitte. Gotta bring the horses in.”      Dean clips the radio to his belt. He has brushed his teeth, rinsed his mouth and cleaned his face by the time the farrier replies.      “Good mornin’ to you too, Chief.”      Dean grins at the slightly cynical tone of the Southerner. He pushes the button again, moving the speaker closer to his mouth.       “We’re with the herd, on Black Top Mesa, close to Dutchman’s Trailhead. Ya’ll ready to move?”      “Sure am, just cooking up some breakfast to go. Do you want some or did you already eat out?”

     Y/N has never timed taking a sip of water worse, because it comes out through both her mouth and nose. Dean stares at her mortified before he snaps the walkie talkie to his mouth.      “She can hear ya, you jackass!” he returns, his voice higher than he anticipated.      “Oh, I bet she can.”      The head wrangler shuts his eyes and cringes, turning away from Y/N to hide his red face. His free hand goes for his belt loop first, then rubs the back of his neck, before wiping the sweat on the denim of his jeans. Shit, this is embarrassing.       “I - I - We… You know what? I don’t owe you an explanation,” he hisses into the radio phone.      “I’m just saying, brother, if you haven’t yet, it’s gonna take us at least forty five minutes to get to ya, so--”      “- Over and out, Benny!”

     Quickly, he turns the device off, breathes out, and scoffs. That son of a bitch. Dean isn’t sure how he’s going to make Benny pay just yet, but he will taste his wrath. He carefully glances over his shoulder to check on Y/N, who he finds with her hand clasped over her mouth, trying her very best to contain her giggles.      “You think that’s funny, huh?” he mutters, flustered.      She laughs warm and hearty, wiping tears from her eyes as she approaches the cowboy.      “You don’t need enemies with friends like him, that’s a given,” she chuckles.

     He glances at her, his mouth pulling into a smile. She can spot a hint of relief, now that he knows she’s taking it well, but blood still warms his cheeks, making his freckles invisible. It amazes her every single time how all that confidence washes away once he loses direction. Benny was just teasing him, Dean must be aware of that. Besides, it’s not like the green eyed wrangler to take things easy, as he said so himself, so it’s not strange his Southern friend figured he covered at least a couple of bases overnight. She can feel a blush add color to her face as well, when the thought crosses her mind. Honestly, she too silently hoped he would have gone ‘down that road’. 

     “Well, unfortunately he assumed wrong,” she addresses boldly, taking the collar of his stockman coat gently between her thumb and index finger, reeling him in. “But he was right about them taking at least forty five minutes to get here.”      Stunned eyes flick over her features, wondering if he’s imagining things or if she really just gained the confidence he’s lacking at this very moment. Once again she blows him off his feet with her newfound assertiveness, like she does every so often. Shit, she’s sexy when she takes the lead like that.       “He sure was,” he returns, his hands now moving to her waist.      “I know we agreed to take it easy,” she tilts her head slightly, folding her arms around his neck now. “So what should we do with all that time?”

     Dean smirks at her from under his hat, shaking his head amused without breaking eye contact. What a tease. He couldn’t resist her to save his own life. Her radiance is brighter than the rising sun behind her. The pull he’s experiencing, the level of attraction, it’s so strong; he knows he’s going to have a tough time sticking to his boundaries. He has to, though, he has to do right by her. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a little fun along the way.      “I got a few ideas,” he implies.      Before Y/N knows it, the strong wrangler lifts her up, pulling a squeal from within her, followed by a fit of giggles. He adjusts his grip when she folds her legs around his middle, smothering her sly grin with a sweet kiss. The low chuckle that escapes his throat sounds both gentle and gruff, adding to the wholesome sensation that fills her chest.       By the Yucca tree, he lowers himself to the ground, still holding the cowgirl in his arms until she has found her balance and straddles his lap, a knee buried in the gravelly sand on either side of him. The intimate connection strengthens as they get lost in the moment, the laughs dying down, eyes falling shut. 

     Dean lets his fingers wander over the fabric of her clothes, tracing the lines of her neck, her spine, the curves of her hips. Feeling no pressure that this needs to lead somewhere right now calms him, because even though it’s proven to be difficult to keep their hands off each other, he knows she will give him the space he needs and, despite this little tease, she respects him more than he respects himself.       He makes a little mental note when she whimpers, as he continues to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of her mouth, down her throat and her collarbone. Dean might not go down on the beautiful cowgirl today, but he will remember the little touches that make her sigh and squirm. 

     Their agreement to take it slow, combined with Benny’s remark, sparked something new. Since their first kiss, she has been willing, eager for more, but now that what she wants is just out of reach, she finds it difficult to control herself. He can tell in the way she touches him, the audible breaths that reach his hearing when their mouths aren’t sealed together, the longing in her eyes when she opens them for a brief second. Dean never thought he would say it, but taking their time might have an advantage he hadn’t considered before. Teasing him, tempting her… it’s an interesting way to pass the time. Making each other wait might feel like a torturous game right now, but when the moment does arrive for them to take things to the next level, it’s going to be something else. And just like that, the bachelor who didn’t waste a second to get around with so many women, doesn’t mind waiting for the one.

     The two lay together for at least half an hour, making out like teenagers. Sweet touches, cute giggles, all smiles. If they could freeze time, they would. But when Dean glances north and notices the dust clouds coming from La Barge Canyon, they have to interrupt the intimacy; Benny and the others are on their way.

     Five minutes later, Dean shrugs off his long coat, now that the sun has cast out the crisp of the night. He folds it up tightly and stuffs it into one of his saddlebags. Y/N has already mounted Joplin, at home in the Tucker trail saddle. The mare didn’t entirely awaken from her slumber apparently, because for once in her life, she stands still and doesn’t bounce around impatiently like a bronc in the holding box at the rodeo. Her rider has her wrists crossed on the horn, the reins casually between her fingers, as she stares at the herd ahead.       “That’s the leader, isn’t it?” she says.

     Dean turns his head, looking at the dark bay horse, who stands between them and his congeners. The animal stares back, ears perked forward, one of them flicking back to the herd every now and them. The stallion observes him carefully, he doesn’t seem entirely sure how to deal with the presence of humans. He’s alert, ready to bolt and take his herd to safety, yet at the same time curious. Understandable, because these youngsters spent most of their life living as feral horses, only seeing men when they were moved from the reservation to the large winter pastures closer to the ranch, and back to the mountains when spring was around the corner.       “Yeah, seems like it,” Dean confirms, watching the beautiful creature.      He returns his gaze to the task at hand, tying the sleeping bag behind Ted’s saddle, but then realization hits him. Wait a minute, is that…? The wrangler turns to face the interested horse again, who is looking at him from about two hundred yards away, like he seems to recognize the cowboy as well.      Y/N glances from the wrangler to the horse and back. “Dean?”

     But he doesn’t respond, slowly stepping away from Ted, narrowing his eyes to see better. The horse’s mane grew long, his forelock covering his face, the black hair growing all the way down to his nose, but a hint of a blaze still visible through the curtain. Dark brown eyes take Dean in as the stallion waits, so still that one could mistake him for a statue, save the wind playing with his tail. The low vegetation hides the white markings on his legs, so the wrangler can’t tell for sure. It can’t be. He couldn’t have grown that big, he wouldn’t be the alpha, he reminds himself. But besides the horse’s size and rank within the herd, there’s nothing that indicates the animal, isn’t him. 

     Dean moves his hand to his mouth, pressing the tabs of his thumb and index finger together, creating a circle, before he places them on his lips. He inhales and whistles sharply. The sheer, high-pitched sound moves across the land, reaching ears miles away. The ears the whistle was meant for, pick up the unique sound too and instantly the caution and doubt in the horse’s stance is gone. He neighs back, loud and strong, confirming Dean’s suspicion.      “Well, I’ll be damned…” he breathes.      “You two know each other?” Y/N wonders.      Dean beams. “Yeah, we go way back.”

     He leaves Ted and Y/N on top of the hill, carefully making his way down the slope without spooking the feral horse. But the stallion doesn’t feel threatened anymore, now that he recognizes Dean. He jogs up to him, taking a few more steps before he halts. Friendly eyes take in the wrangler, his nostrils flaring when Dean tentivally reaches, picking up his scent. As a content smile spreads across Dean’s face, he lets his fingertips brush the horse’s nose, soft as velvet. He takes another step, gliding the palm of his hand up his jaw now, to his cheek and then down his neck, following the flow of the horse’s dark hair. The short summer coat has already partly been replaced, now that the cold of winter will arrive in a month or so.       Last time Dean saw him, he was barely two years old. A youngster, a boney juvenile, who was a tad small. Obviously the fellow needed more time. That’s why the wrangler gave his horse another year to grow. It worked out well, because look at him now.      “Hey, bud,” Dean says softly, ruffling the horse’s mane. “You got big.”

     From a distance, Y/N watches the reunion. She doesn’t know the whole story, but the connection between man and animal is unmistakably strong. They have a place in each other’s hearts and even though they have been apart for a while, that didn’t change. The leader of the herd, who one would expect to be dominant, accepts a human touch without hesitation. It’s an unusual response for a horse who has lived off the grid for years. 

     Warmth fills her chest, a smile on her lips, similar to the one Dean carries. It’s incredible to witness him around the animals that captivate them both. She has enjoyed his interactions many times before, watching him handle them on the ground, seeing him ride. Always kind, always respectful. He has a way with horses that is special. Her grandfather would have said he’s gifted. He also would have given her a thumbs up. Grandpa always offered wise words, often followed by silence, the quiet giving them even more strength. One of his sayings comes to mind: You can judge a man’s character by the way he treats his horses. Well then, if that’s a given, then Dean is definitely one of the kindest and most loving souls she has come across.

     The wrangler rubs the stallion’s shoulder, before he slowly turns around. He tries to beckon the beautiful dark horse with a simple shoulder movement, using only body language to invite the large animal to follow him. After a moment of hesitation, during which the stallion glances at his herd and back at his human, he follows. No rope, no pressure, no constraint, but free will. It’s hard to miss the pleased expression on Dean’s face when he looks up at the cowgirl, who still watches from Joplin’s back.      “I know country boys aren’t known for manners, but aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” she jokes.

     The stallion stops at the bottom of the small hill, aware that as the leader of his group, he still has a task to fulfill. He stands tall, checking on the herd, the autumn breeze catching his tangled mane, folding his tail around his hind legs. He looks almost mythical.      “His name is Rock N’ Roll.” Dean takes him in, proudly. “But he goes by Rock’o.”      “Is he yours?” she asks, curiously.      The wrangler nods. “I was there when he was born. He had a rough start in life. I bottle fed him the first couple of months.”      Amazed, she smiles at him. “No wonder you two are close.”             He returns her expression, taking a moment to absorb the image of both the woman who is conquering his heart, and his horse who already claimed it years ago.       “It’s gonna be much easier to bring in the herd with him on our side,” Dean says, moving to Ted’s left side, after which he puts his foot in the stirrup and swings the other over the saddle. “We have to handle it delicately, but he trusts me.”      “You think he will follow you?” Y/N assumes, keeping Joplin on the spot, who seems to have woken up from her nap, now that Dean mounted his horse as well.      “No, but he will keep the herd together. It's a misconception that the stallion leads the group. They are usually in the rear, driving up stragglers,” Dean explains.

     The head wrangler glances over his shoulder at the growing dust cloud, an indication that Benny and the rest of the crew are closing in. Within a minute, he spots the four riders and their pack horses coming over the hill. The mischievous grin on the Southerner’s face can be spotted from far away.      “Had a nice mornin’ ride, Chief?” he nags under his breath, once he has joined the two riders.      Dean shoots him a glare, his fiery green eyes demanding him to shut up without using actual words. Y/N heard the farrier, however, and no one is prepared for the comeback.      “Oh, we didn’t have time. Forty-five minutes isn’t nearly enough for what I had in mind,” she counters casually.

     Dean snorts, caught by surprise, while Benny cocks his head at the intern, staring at her bug-eyed. Y/N doesn’t give the the blue-eyed cowboy another second of her attention and leads her horse to Ted, her fingertips briefly touching Dean’s thigh as she passes him, before she rides down the hill, her head held high.      Amused, the head wrangler waits for his friend to catch the wide grin on his face, which he does once Benny snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head sniggering, his laugh rumbling deep and low in his chest.      “Brother, you are in way over your head,” he states. “She’s a pistol.”      Dean admittingly raises his brow, nodding in agreement while watching her ride off.      “She sure is.” 

     “Yah!”      In full gallop Y/N speeds up along the left flank of the herd, directing the horses back to a compact group every time they fan out. Benny and Macy are leading, Dean tailing, while Brad and Jon cover the right side. The head wrangler wasn’t lying when he said that it was going to be exciting, because she feels like she’s living a Wild West fantasy. 

     Joplin has her ears in her neck as she sprints away, cutting off two stallions who fan out. Her rider doesn’t even have to give a signal, the feisty dark mare knows exactly what to do. Even though she is smaller than the others, she stands her ground and didn’t think twice when one of the juvenile stallions took an interest in her. With a squeal and a firm kick she made clear not to mess with her, her zero-tolerance attitude keeping them at a safe distance. Y/N had a hunch Joplin was good at the job, otherwise Dean wouldn’t have chosen the strong minded horse for his intern, but she didn’t expect her partner to be this fierce. Unflagging, focussed, and fast as a bullet. It’s an absolute thrill to work with her.

     They pursued the herd into O’Grady Canyon, the higher cliffs on both sides helping the wranglers keep them together. They passed the rock formations of Tim’s Saddle and Dean and Y/N briefly exchanged a look and a smile as they crossed the small creek. Revisiting the place where they shared their first kiss only two days ago feels special, that night’s energy still in the air. So much has happened since, and yet their journey has only just begun. 

     After a quick drinking pause, they continued, before the herd could fall apart. Some of the animals are restless, while others follow a lot more calmly. Using horses instead of dirt bikes or even a helicopter is a lot less stressful for the feral animals, but being chased makes them nervous nonetheless. Rocko’s laid back attitude towards the humans keeps the panic in the herd contained to a minimum, though. 

     Thankfully, the weather is working in their favor for a change. A cool breeze is sweeping across the terrain and swishing through the canyons, keeping the temperature from rising to the heights it reached in the past couple of days. It’s a good thing the conditions are a lot more tolerable, because the riding is intense. The wind, together with the stampede, does kick up a lot of sand, engulfing the wranglers in clouds of earthy particles. Dean, being at the back of the herd, has pulled his neckerchief over his nose, keeping the dust from entering his lungs. 

     Halfway through the afternoon, the wranglers have managed to guide the group of horses safely down the slopes on the east banks of the Superstitions. A time consuming detour, but crossing the mountains without a herd is challenging enough, not to mention with over a dozen wild animals added to the clan. After descending the much smoother slopes for hours on end, the canyon functioning as a tunnel and relieving the pressure from the riders, the walls on either side fan out. Before them lays the valley, the small town of Gold Canyon in the far distance to the west, the sun edging towards it as the day begins to close in on the night. 

     “Yankee!”      It’s Dean who gets her attention, his voice rising above the sound of the stampede. Y/N turns in the saddle while she continues to follow the movement of her horse with her hips. Behind her, three young stallions have wandered away from the group in a matter of seconds. Joplin hasn’t noticed them yet, fixed on holding the flank ahead, but when her rider moves her hand to the left, she rolls away like a fighter jet. The little dark mare needs no encouragement and is at full speed within five strides, shooting across the terrain at a speed of forty miles an hour. Y/N has bent over Joplin’s neck, staying low in order to increase the aerodynamics. The fast rhythmic sound of hoofbeats tremor the ground, the wind rushes in her ears and drags tears from the corners of her eyes. The two cut off the youngsters, redirecting them back to the herd like they have been doing this together for years. Y/N’s partner in crime pushes her ears back and snaps her teeth, not so kindly advising the horses to hurry it up or else, triggering her rider to grin at her feisty character. Once the three join the others, the cowgirl lets out a cheer, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Dean was absolutely right, this is just like a spaghetti western. 

     They ride along the promontory of the mountains to their right, roughly following the Lost Goldmine trail. By the time the company passes a volcanic remnant called Turk’s Head, the sky begins to change, adding orange to the blues. A glance at her old watch tells her it’s 5.10 PM. Three days ago she kept feeling her back pocket for her phone whenever she needed to know the time, or felt the urge to check her messages, but not having her Iphone with her turns out to be a blessing in disguise. Who would want to stare at a screen and miss all the good stuff? 

     Ted’s strides are long and consistent, not a trace of fatigue noticeable with the bay gelding. From behind the group, Dean should have a good overview, if it wasn’t for the dust clouds obstructing his vision. The small particles cling to his skin, his lashes, the fabric of his clothes. He can still see the boys holding their ground well on the right, the steep slopes running up into the peaks of the Flatiron assisting them, working as a funnel. Benny and Macy are keeping a good pace; if they continue at this speed, they will be home before dinner. Y/N is doing outstanding on the other flank, forming a dream team with eager little Joplin. Thankfully, Dean has eyes up ahead, because the radio on his belt begins to crack.      “Two miles to go, Chief!”      Dean takes the radio phone and presses the PTT button before he answers.      “Let’s bring them home, brother.”

     With his thumb he twists the channel nob, switching to number four, before he calls in again. They should be within the perimeter now. “Bobby, do you read me?”      It’s quiet for a moment, but then the static breaks.      “Loud and clear, son.”      The head wrangler smiles, glad to be delivering good news after three days and nights filled with nerve wrecking moments. Treacherous terrain, suffocating heat. Drought, snakes, minor injuries.       “We’re comin’ in hot. Thirty minutes.”      “The gates are open. I’ll tell Ellen to put the casserole in the oven.”      Dean’s mouth begins to water when his aunt’s famous dish is mentioned. No disrespect to Benny, but after all that canned food, he can’t wait to sink his teeth into that delicious corn, beef, and onion stocked, stomach filling meal.      “In that case, I’ll make it twenty. Over.”      “We’re ready for ya. Over and out.”

     The head wrangler hooks the radio back on his belt and glances aside. Rocko is galloping about thirty yards to his left, ahead by a few nose lengths. Sweat shimmers on his neck and shoulders, his dark bay coat almost black now. With big, powerful strides he pushes forward like a steam train, yet agile, maneuvering past rocks, cacti, and bushes. Even untrained, he has grown into a strong horse. Dean can’t wait to work with him. To strengthen that bond even more, to teach him. Watching the stallion by his side and under Dean’s wing as it were, fills him with pride already. It’s at this moment that Dean realizes; this horse is going to be something else.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part sixteen here

#Ride With Me #Cowboy!Dean #Dean Winchester AU #Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester #Cowboy Dean #Cowboy!Dean x Reader #Cowboy!Dean x Y/N #Dean x Y/N #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Dean fanfic #Dean fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfic #Dean angst #Dean fluff #Dean smut #Jensen Ackles #Dean reader insert #Dean Winchester reader insert #Dean series #Dean Winchester series #Cowboy!Dean series #Cowboy Dean series #Kate Huntington

[rosy-night-sky]

Of Treasure and Adventure

Genre: Treasure hunter/Indiana Jones AU

Pairing: Ot7 x reader

Summary: Your grandmother gave you a gift that she won in a game, so naturally you are curious as to the origins of it. A decision was then made that you should seek the answers to your questions. However, you never expected your decision to lead you on a treasure hunting quest.

Tag List: @sevenincubistolemyheart

Chapter 1

The endless chatter and commotion of the marketplace echoed throughout of New Delhi. Various shopkeepers and traders yelled out their so called amazing products or the astonishing sales. Silks, spices, foods, animals, anything you could think of was there. Products were sold and coin flowed in steadily, although not as rapidly as before.

However, you weren’t here to trade or buy anything, although many things did happen to catch your eye. No, you were a reporter sent by a British newspaper company to cover the events of the growing Indian independence movement. The movement had caused quite a stir back in England, and the people there are anxious on what will become of India.

Honestly, although as a reporter you weren’t allowed to give your opinion, you were in the minority among the British, believing that India had a right to become independent from the imperializing country. The British, of course, acted cruel to the natives of the country, acting like they were no more than servants.

In addition to your assignment, you decided to take care of another issue. In your possession, handed to you from your grandmother, you had a small, ornate tapestry heavily influenced with Indian design. You were rather curious on the origins of the item and whether or not it was deemed valuable. You had already gone to many historians, but they all said that it was nothing of note.

You obviously weren’t going to take that as an answer and realized that you could only find what you were looking for by going to its home country, which was why you were currently entering a building acting like you were about to conduct some shady business. You got in contact with a historian who was willing to look at your tapestry and try to see if he could search for it origins. You were elated when he agreed to help you, and you couldn’t help the bubbly feeling of nervous excitement rush through you as you climbed the steps to the place where you both agreed to meet.

The floor you landed on looked like it was supposed to be a fancy bar, what with the fine tablecloths and baskets upon baskets of flowers littered everywhere. You saw many British military men chatting and drinking with familiar company. You ignored them and looked for the historian, who happened to be seated on the balcony looking over the city.

You strolled over to him and stuck your hand out. “Dr. Kim, I presume,” you greeted with a smile.

The man tore his gaze from the ongoings down below and turned his attention to you, a bright smile stretching from ear to ear. The first thing you noticed was how handsome and professional he appeared. His gray suit was nicely pressed without so much as a single hair or piece of lint on it. He adjusted his round glasses before returning your hand shake. “Miss. Y/l/n, so nice to finally meet you,” he replied. “As much as I’d love to stay and discuss your tapestry, I am currently overlooking a university class trip. So I’m afraid we’ll have to make this meeting quick.”

You nodded in understanding. “This won’t be an issue, doctor. I’m rather eager to hear what you have in store.” You both took a seat, and you found the pillow seats to be rather comfortable although quite worn from use.

“Now then,” Dr. Kim began, “may I?”

Once more, you nodded and grabbed the folded cloth from your leather bag. You placed it on the table before unfolding it to reveal the intricate image woven into it centuries ago. Although many colors graced it, it was beginning to fade from age. You could only imagine how vibrant it must’ve looked when it was first crafted.

Dr. Kim adjusted his glasses once more as he took in the history before him. You could practically see the wheels and gears turn in his mind. His eyes scanned it rather intensely, as if it was the last piece of Indian history on earth. Finally, he lifted his eyes up to you with a questioning look. “May I ask where you got this?” he asked, his hand cupping his chin in thought.

You smiled fondly as you recalled the memory. “My grandmother gave it to me. She told me she won it in a game of poker from an Indian lord back in the day,” you chuckled. You and your grandmother were always very close, and you were sad to remember how she passed away just a year prior to this trip. Perhaps she was the reason why you were so adamant on finding answers to the mystery of this tapestry.

The historian laughed almost breathily, and you noticed the cute dimples form as his lips formed a smile. “I should have figured, this doesn’t look like something that an Indian lord would be willing to part with.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and slight curiousity. “How so?” you prodded further.

He spread out his arms and if to say behold. “Well, this is finely made for starters, only the best quality of thread was used to craft this, and it is nicely preserved as well. The style of design used here suggests that this was made during the classic period of India,” he explained, his eyebrows raised in astonishment.

Unfortunately, you weren’t quite informed on the history of India. So you couldn’t exactly place a year on that given information. “So when’s that?” you asked, feeling a tiny bit embarrassed on how ignorant you were.

“Well...” His voice trailed off as his mind went to work. “If I had to pick a year. I’d say this was made in the early hundreds... B.C.” He rubbed a hand on his neck, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

Your jaw fell unceremoniously as you could feel the air in your lungs disappear instantly. “You’re saying I’ve been carrying an artifact... that’s thousands of years old...?”

He laughed sheepishly and nodded, which only lurched your stomach to your throat. You almost used that tapestry as a napkin on multiple occasions. Also, how on earth has this thing not unraveled or dissolved yet?! “Holy shit...” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Like I said, this has been preserved very well.”

“Um, yeah, I’d say so...” You ran your fingers through your hair. “How come the other historians back in England didn’t have heart attacks over this?”

Dr. Kim shrugged his shoulders, a small smile gracing his lips. “No offense, but British people aren’t interested in Indian history.” He then looked at his wrist watch abruptly. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Miss. Y/l/n, but I’m afraid I have to get going. I have to make sure my students haven’t wandered off and gotten themselves killed.”

You blinked yourself out of your bewildered daze and redirected your attention to the doctor. “Oh! Erm, of course, doctor. This has all been a very...” Your voice trailed off as you searched for the proper word to use in this situation. “... enlightening experience.” You stood up as you said this and made your way back inside.

“Namjoon, I-”

Suddenly, your body collided into another person, causing yourself to lose your balance all but for a moment. You held up your hands as if show how apologetic you were. Your eyes landed upon a much younger man than Dr. Kim. He had a youthful appearance that made it seem as if he hadn’t even graduated college quite yet. He was dressed in a nice, white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, khakis, and brown leather shoes.

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was as his chubby cheeks flushed a faint tinge of pink. He smiled sheepishly and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “Ah, sorry, ma’am,” he apologized earnestly. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You lowered your hands and returned a warm smile of your own. “It’s no problem. The fault’s mine, my mind is a little frazzled at the moment,” you explained, chuckling at the end of your statement.

Dr. Kim then stepped into the exchange. “Jungkook, I’d like you to meet Miss. Y/l/n. She is a reporter covering the independence movement.”

Jungkook bowed his head in greeting, his dark hair brushing over his beautiful eyes. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” You couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter ever so slightly in your chest.

“Jungkook is one of my students,” Dr. Kim informed, a look of pride glimmering in his eyes. “He’s probably here to tell me about the other students, right?”

The student blinked his eyes, as if suddenly remembering why he came up there in the first place. “Oh, yes. Jaehee wanted to show you some pots she believed were made in the eighteenth century.”

The doctor arched an eyebrow in slight interest, digging his hand in his pockets. “Did she now? Well then, I better go and see for myself.” He nodded his head to you. “Miss Y/l/n.” With that, he left with the student. You were now alone with the ancient tapestry. You suddenly felt as if you were unworthy to carry around such a valuable artifact. Perhaps she could donate it to a national museum? Who was she kidding? The British might get wind of it and steal it for themselves.

You grabbed the tapestry and exited the bar, heading down the stairs, your footsteps echoing off the walls. You couldn’t believe it. Your grandmother won a two millennia tapestry in a game of cards. If you went to the right people, you could end up a millionaire. Finally, you could live an easy life without scrambling around for every odd job.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you were just about to put the tapestry back in your leather bag, but a cheery voice suddenly spoke up. “That’s quite a drape you have there.”

You turned your head to the source of the sound and found yourself looking at a small, make-shift shop set up in the far back area of the room. Colorful blankets and curtains hung around to give the shop a rather bohemian appearance. The shopkeeper sat on a comfy looking pillow behind his stand, looking up at you with a sweet smile.

Curiousity piqued your interest as you took a few steps at the shop. You brushed away a few giant leaves from the potted plants arranged at the sides of his stall. His whole vibrant arrangement gave off a rather magical, almost fairytale aesthetic.

“It’s not a drape,” you corrected him. “It’s a tapestry.”

He tilted his head to the side quizzically. “What is the difference between a drape and a tapestry?” he questioned, his chin resting on his folded hands.

You pondered on it for a few moments. “A tapestry has images on it, I suppose.”

“I guess you’re right there,” he replied, a rich laughter escaping his lips.

You looked at a sign standing next to him that was written in both Indian and English. “Hope’s... World...?” you read questioningly.

He smiled sweetly again. “My wish is for my products to be the solution for all your hopes and dreams.” He gestured for you to sit on the pillow laid out on the other side of where he was sitting.

You accepted his invitation and sat down, mostly because you were curious of what this shop exactly was. “So then... Mr...?”

“Hoseok,” he introduced himself, extending a hand out to you, which you shook. You then gave him your name

“Alright then, Hoseok, what is it that you do exactly?” you asked, noticing all the different spices and herbs strewn about on various shelves.

Suddenly, Hoseok got up from his seat and moved toward the back shop. “I’m what you call in your language a tea merchant,” he explained. “I simply sell teas that help ease all your troubles away.” He then returned with two cups and a steaming pot. He sat back down on his pillow and poured the warm liquid in both cups, offering you one.

You gladly accepted the drink and sipped on it, tasting the sweet spices on your tongue. “Is this chai tea?” you questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

He laughed again, setting the pot to the side. “Ah, you British, you know your teas very well.” He then whispered, “It’s a secret recipe of mine. My mother would kill me if I told you.”

You then smiled as you took another drink. “Say no more, I had a grandmother who has an amazing custard tart that she said she’d take to her grave,” you recalled, chuckling at the fond memories. Your mind began to relax and feel calm. You were unsure if it was because of the tea or the soothing atmosphere of the tea shop that calmed you.

Hoseok gave you an excited grin. “May I see your tapestry, please?” He bounced on his pillow like a child opening his presents on Christmas. You couldn’t help but comply with what he asked. After all, it was merely two thousand years old. What’s the worst that could happen?

As you unfolded the tapestry, Hoseok viewed it over intently, running his long fingers over the fabric. He seemed absolutely enthralled by the worn pictures and faded colors. His childlike eyes ran over the tapestry over and over again, taking everything in as if he would never see it ever again. He finally tore his gaze away and looked up with a knowing smile. “This tells a story, you know,” he revealed, catching you off guard.

You raised your eyebrows in astonishment. “Really?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yes, you see these people here...” He pointed to a group of people who appeared to be fleeing away from soldiers on horses, who were firing their bows upon them. You couldn’t help but feel slight pity for them, but nonetheless nodded. “These aren’t Indians at all. They are, in fact, my ancestors, Koreans, fleeing from their homeland from the Chinese in 108 B.C.” He then pointed at the soldiers. “My people fled to protect the most valuable treasure in our kingdom. The Dragon of the Stars, said to be made of every precious gemstone on earth.” He moved his finger back to animated Korean who was carrying something in his arms, but the color was too faded to really decipher what it was. On the other hand, you could barely make out the outline of what appeared to be a small dragon. However, you would have never known it was a dragon if Hoseok hadn’t pointed it out.

The tea seller continued, “My people fled to the one place the Chinese couldn’t reach, where this tapestry was made.”

“India,” you breathed out, followed by a stifled yawn. “I’m sorry, I don’t find this boring. Please continue.”

Hoseok chuckled. “I suppose it has been a very exciting day for you. It certainly has been for me now that I’ve seen this.” His eyes crawled back down to the tapestry. “You are a lucky woman to have this. I’d estimate this would cost a few million.”

You leaned against your propped up arm, finding your eyelids to grow heavier and heavier by the second. “A few million?” You drawled out, yawning once more. “That’s a lot... Say, Hoseok, how could you tell this explained that story just by looking at it?”

Hoseok smiled, finding your drowsy attitude to be rather cute. “I guess you could say I’ve always been interested in the history of my people.”

You mumbled in agreement. “I should be going now. I don’t know why I’m suddenly exhausted right now.” You reached out to grab the tapestry, content with the knowledge Hoseok shared with you. In fact, once you rested up, you were definitely going to find someone who would pay the right price for this.

You could see the deflated look in Hoseok’s eyes, but he reluctantly allowed you to leave. “Here, let me help you,” he offered, folding up the tapestry into a neat pile.

You were about to help him when a huge bout of exhaustion overwhelmed you. You swayed from side to side, finding the floor to sway as you wobbled. Your eyelids felt as if weights hung from them, dragging them down further by the second. You felt as if you hadn’t slept in a week.

“Hoseok...” you mumbled before suddenly collapsing to the floor.

The last thing you saw before you fell into unconsciousness was Hoseok smiling sweetly upon you with the radiance of a thousand suns. He looked absolutely heavenly, as if he was a god come down to bestow his blessings upon you. “Sweet dreams, Y/n...”

You obeyed him and fell into a deep sleep.

—————————————

“Who are you?”

“You may call me Mr. Kim... Kim Seokjin...”

#bts #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #fanfiction #writing #treasure hunter au #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #indiana jones au #of treasure and adventure

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Silver-Blue

Azula Week Day 6: Mermaid AU

Summary: Azula is spirit cursed to be a mermaid. Sokka keeps her company.

Ocean foam laps at her skin, she can taste the salt on her lips, feel water droplets dripping from her hair and trailing down her bare back. There is seaweed wrapped around her arms and adorning her hair from when she had emerged. She hasn’t gotten around to picking it off yet. She smells of the ocean.

She has grown used to the feeling and to the scents, though it had been a profound adjustment to make. 

For the thousandth time since acquiring them, Azula runs her hands down almost razor-like metallic scales that shimmer in hues of mostly deep blues and teals with a spot of silver here and there. 

She supposes that they are rather beautiful, majestic and suitable for her. Much more suitable than the reds and golds of the Fire Nation. No, the scales reminded her of her fire, now lost to her. She likes the style of the tail well enough, the little sharper spines that jut out from the sides of them and the tattered--yet perfectly symmetrical--look of the fins. But she misses her legs.

She thinks it cruel that a former firebender has been tethered to the ocean.

She watches the sky shift from a deep indigo to the gold, pinks, and oranges of sunrise. With the sun now in view, Azula tries, again, to firebend. But no flames burst to life in her palm. Not even a spark. 

She supposes that a sea creature has no business working with fire. That doesn’t make her feel any less bleak over the situation.

Azula can hear footsteps, the soft crunch of sandgrains. She tosses herself in a backwards arch back beneath the surface. Her hair fans out soothingly around her as she descends. Perhaps one day she will make conversation. These days, she fancy the notion of people discovering what has become of her. 

It will take a lot of explaining and she isn’t sure that she truly can. 

.oOo. 

Sokka meanders about the beach, stooping down to pick up a particularly smooth grey-black rock. He tosses it up and down as she trails along the shoreline. The ocean relaxes him after a long week of fishing and hunting and, these days, political meetings that numb is brain to its core. 

It seems as though today will be his only truly free day day within a two week period. And, by Raava, he needs it with the first week and two days having passed. 

A sudden splash draws his attention, but whatever it is, has disappeared from view. He shrugs and takes a seat where the waves lap at the sand. He lets them lick and tickle his feet as he watches soft pastels and vibrant golds appear in the sky. The sun casts a twinkling gold glimmer amid the gentle waves. With the hues of the sky reflected in the glittering waves, he feels as though he is looking into a dream.

He continues tossing the stone from one hand to the other. Just to create a ripple on the surface, he throws the stone. It hits the water and causes the desired ripples, but it bounces back. 

No. It had been thrown back. 

A figure arises, a relatively small silhouette against the golden backdrop. A halo of light accents her. He can’t make out her expression with such lighting nor such distance. But he can’t imagine that she is pleased to have been hit by a rock, however small.

At first she seems to edge closer, but then she retreats beneath the waves. 

“No, wait!” He calls, reaching out. Without thinking he darts in her direction. He nearly trips over the water; if only he could bend it out of his way. Having thought it over even less, he leaps up and tackles the figure. 

She gives a small oof and scowls at him. “What the hell are you doing!?”

Sokka blushes and rubs the back of his head. “Sorry, I… I just...I didn’t want you to leave.” It’s a dumb excuse and he knows it. She doesn’t reply, perhaps his actions had been so brazenly rude, it leaves her without words. And in her silence he notices two things.He doesn’t know which to address first.

“Azula?” He asks, because he thinks that it is a much easier way to start.

Her frown only deepens and her eyes narrow. 

He hasn’t seen those eyes since she’d gone missing a year or so prior. 

“You’re alive!”

She rolls her eyes, “you don’t say…”

He can’t help but stare downwards, his glance fixated on shiny blue and teal scales. His cheeks color again when he realizes that he has been staring and that she is well aware of it. Every eloquently, he sputters, “how?” 

.oOo.

Azula shifts uncomfortably. 

She isn’t about to tell the oaf that she had done something rather foolish. Part of her wants to, hoping that maybe he’d have an idea as to how to fix things. But she can’t imagine him not laughing. Even a complete dullard like him knows that spirit vines aren’t to be tampered with. By extension, taking the lazy route and experimenting with spirit seaweed, simply because it is closer, is even more foolheartedly. “It’s a long story.” She mumbles instead. “It doesn’t matter anyways.” 

Sokka’s gives her a sympathetic look. “Maybe I can…”

“Help?” She cuts him off and shakes her head. “I don’t think that this,” she sweeps a hand over the elegant scales of her tail, “can be undone.” 

He takes her hand, “there was this one time that Aang found this spirit-monster thing. He did some crazy Avatar stuff and it turned back into a panda.” 

Azula blinks. “That is the worst summary of an event that I have ever heard.” 

Sokka flushes again. “Well, I’m just trying to say that curses and stuff can be lifted.” 

She doesn’t think that curse is the right term though. She stares at her hands. 

“Are there any other mermaids?” Sokka asks.

Azula shakes her head, “haven’t found any.” She must admit that she is a little lonely. It is why she hasn’t told him to run along. Frankly, it is nice to have some company, even if the company is of the Water Tribe peasant variety. 

“It’s pretty, if that makes you feel any better.” He comments with a gesture towards her mermaid tail. 

It doesn’t but she half-heartedly thanks him anyhow. 

“You know who likes mermaids!?” 

“Katara.” Azula guesses. 

“Aang, actually.” Sokka laughs. 

“TyLee does too.” Azula recalls. “She probably won’t like them as much if she finds out that I’m one of them.” 

“Or…” he speaks more optimistically, “maybe that’ll help you rebuild a friendship?”

Azula shrugs, she doesn’t share his optimism. 

Sokka frowns at her lack of enthusiasm. “Uh...well...I guess I’ll leave you alone then.”

She lets him stand before pulling at his arm again, “no, wait!” She doesn’t know when she’ll come by another person, much less a familiar face.

He sits back down. “Yeah?” 

“Will you…” she hesitates, not entirely used to asking for company. “Will you come back tomorrow. 

Sokka gives a cheerful smile. “Sure, I can bring Zuko--” 

“NO!” Azula snaps. 

“Alright, I’ll come alone.” He says, thinking over his schedule. “Does sundown work?”

Azula nods, “I like sunsets.” 

He sits with her for a few moments longer before a few human shapes appear on the beach. “I’ll be leaving now. Meet me over there.” She points at an arch of rocks. “There’s an obscured cove over there, it’s where I usually stay.”

“What if I can’t find it?”

“You’ll find me and then I will show you where it is.” She replies. 

Sokka nods, “alright. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Azula returns the nod before dropping beneath the surface once more. At least now, she won’t be alone with her dreads and regrets. At least now she knows that at least one person doesn’t think that she is some sort of freak. She perches herself upon the rock structure in the center over her hidden cover. For the longest time she stares at the scales and at the place on her midsection where skin transitions in to scales. Even after all of this time she still can’t get used to them. 

She supposes that she is going to have to because they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

#Azulaweek2019 #Azula #Avatar #Sokkla #Sokka #Fanfiction #Day 6 Mermaid AU

[a-deadly-serenade]

The Shield and the Sword: Chapter 5: Whispers in the Garden [Alucard/Reader]

You’re a witch that is skilled in herbology, one that has been persecuted by the church for practically your entire life. In spite of this, moving throughout different towns has allowed you to pick up some chatter about a woman in a village called Lupu. She is supposed to be a wonder when it comes to medicine, and this immediately perks up your interest. So after plucking up some courage, you’ve made it to her door… hoping that she takes you as her apprentice.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724856?view_full_work=true

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The following weeks were filled with diligent study in the medical library, which was beginning to feel more and more as an extension of your bedroom. You had filled up so many rolls of parchment that you had trouble keeping a tab on all of the notes that you wrote down. It was becoming particularly difficult for you to find specific information as well, since your desk drawers were packed to the absolute brim with parchment.

Lisa, never one to leave such problems unnoticed, went ahead and purchased you a basket full of thick, soft brown leather journals, and a pile of fresh, new quills. It had honestly been a blessing, and being able to take notes within the safe, organized confines of a journal gave you time to organized the mess of scrolls that you had sort of neglected for a few days.

Not only were you hard at work studying with Lisa, but you spent a few hours every night with Adrian, assisting him in his studies on magic. It quickly became apparent that he had a very basic understanding of what magic entailed, knowing that, at the very least, it required the caster to have intent.

“What is so important about this “intent”?” he had a hint of annoyance in his tone. “I heard several Speakers that my father has invited over discuss this whole concept of intent. It does not sound very scientific.”

“That’s because it isn’t,” you counter. “The idea of intent… it’s less of an idea, as it is a sensation. You feel it in the very marrow of your bones, in the very center of your being. You carry belief, and the strength necessary to make this vision come to fruition. Therefore, with the proper amount of intent, any kind of magic is possible. However, you need to be able to have belief in this intent in order for it to do its job.”

Adrian was silent during your whole explanation, and a few moments passed before he nodded in understanding. “I see… so, I need to approach this less logically?”

“Yes!” you cried out triumphantly. “It is good and well to have this… strong, scientific curiosity that can only be satiated by reading and learning and experimenting. But, you need to take your head out of the lab and understand that there are forces that even science cannot explain,” you close your eyes and press your hand to his chest.

Nothing seemed to be happening, but then a warm, yellow light started to emanate from your palm. You hear Adrian gasp quietly in shock, a small smile on your lips as you remove your hand, a cheeky expression on your face.

“What was that?” he sputtered out.

“That was a glimpse of your aura,” you said. “I could sense it very faintly between the very tips of my fingers,” you look down at your hand and wiggle said digits. “It was warm, but a little reluctant to come out. I could feel that it was yellow… but just a hint darker…” you mutter to yourself.

“Does that mean something?” he questioned.

“Yellow usually has a connection to the source of all your bodies energy, and it appears that all of your energy is being honed in on studies.”

Adrian blinks, slight disbelief written across his visage before he folds his arms across his chest in a slight huff. “Well that is just plainly obvious, anyone that saw me as much as you do could guess that I have been spending a lot of time reading.”

You flushed, angry that he had reacted so defensively to your reading. “I… I mean, yes, you could say that but the dark I had picked up,” you began, before he cut you off abruptly.

“What of it?”

You bristled, getting more and more annoyed with this sudden attitude of his by the minute. “There are feelings of…” your eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why you sensed negative emotions. “Being under pressure, as though you have been pushing yourself to some extremes in order to improve…” you glance over at Adrian, concern flashing in your eyes for a brief moment as he stared at you.

He cleared his throat, looking away from you as he started to pack up his things. “I think that should be enough for today,” he said, and stood up out of his chair.

You nodded, still in a daze after what you had just said. You bid him goodnight, and once your door had been shut, you let out a long exhale.

“What was that about?” you whispered, slipping off your clothes to put on a much softer nightgown.

You snapped your fingers to light a honey and peppermint scented candle, as you crawled into bed and snuggled into the blankets.

He’s hiding something, you thought. It’s as though he’s feeling… inadequate. Why could that be?  

You took a deep breath in an attempt to clear your head, as you closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep.

The next morning began like every other, with you being woken up by Lisa coming into your room and announcing that it was time to get up. Quickly getting ready and dressed for the day, you ate breakfast with the rest of the Tepes family, although, you had to admit, that you were a little nervous to sit next to Adrian after what had happened last night.

As you sat there, sipping on your tea, and munching on a piece of buttered bread coated in raspberry jelly, you either suspected that he had forgotten the incident, or decided to ignore it, as he carried on an amicable conversation with his mother and father. You were frankly relieved, not wanting to have been the cause of drama between the family that had so graciously welcomed you into their home.

Once everyone had finished their breakfast, you helped Lisa wash and put away the dish ware as you always did. Drying your hands on a dish towel, you leaned against the counter as Lisa put away the final forks and knives into their appropriate drawers.

“So, do you just want to meet me at the library?” you asked her. “I finally know how to get there on my own without getting horribly lost.” you joked.

She chuckled and gave you a smile. “Now you can come and go whenever you please!” she exclaimed, as she continued to laugh. “However, we will not be going to the library today.”

“Oh?”

Lisa gave you a wink and bopped the tip of your nose. “I’m going to take you somewhere special today.”

A burst of excitement surged through your veins as she said this, with just a hint of intrigue creeping in as your mind attempted to try and solve the exact nature of this mystery location.

When Lisa wrapped up everything in the kitchen, she told you to follow her and she made quick haste to lead you around hallways in the castle you never even knew existed. The journey, however, was not very long, and you soon found yourself exiting the echoing halls of Castlevania and entering a magnificent outdoor garden.

There were so many different flowers and other species of plants that it was honestly a little overwhelming. A multitude of roses dotted the landscape, either in big, bristly bushes, or entangling themselves up large, white trellises. There were pink roses, red roses, white roses, and even black roses. There were lilac trees and wildflowers and even a couple fruit trees. Apple blossoms fell from a nearby tree, their smell drifting in the wind as the two of you made your way deeper into the garden.

A large hedge maze stood several feet away, green ivy sprouting from its crevices with birds chirping from their nests amongst all of the leaves. A cobblestone pathway led from the patio all the way to the entrance, which was surrounded by several small gurgling fountains as water shout out from the creative spouts of fish and tiny cupid angels.  

Large pots filled with tulips, daisies, and dog roses lined the walkway, and you let out an elated gasp as a flock of white doves cooed and chirped as the two of you passed by. The birds seemed intrigued by your presence, but appeared more inclined to flock around Lisa.

“I don’t have have food!” she cried out and waved her hands at the doves. “Go on, shoo!” she clapped loudly several times and the perturbed birds flew back in surprise, hooting and cooing as they bobbed their heads in search of lunch elsewhere.

“Don’t get in the habit of giving them any sort of seeds,” Lisa grumbled. “They came last spring when I was being more generous with feeding the wildlife, and they haven’t left the garden since.”

You giggled. “I’m sure they’re just grateful that they’ve found such a lovely home.”

The both of you rounded a corner and were now walking down a grassy path, wild berry bushes and wild plants blooming all around you. This appeared to be an area that was less used by humans, and you soon found out the reason why.

A large, ornate greenhouse stood a little ways away. It was made of wood, humble in its size, it look no bigger than a common shed. Nevertheless, it was a thing of beauty. All of the windows were covered in beautiful stained glass designs, a motif that followed it from its towering gothic cousin.

The doors especially took your breath away. A glittering, glass monarch butterfly design, with its wings spread out wide, decorated the very top of the pointed entrance. Meanwhile, opulent windows surrounded the actual doorway, covered in clear flowers and vibrant crystals, colored in bright blues and purples.

“This place is beautiful,” your voice is filled with wonder and awe, feeling like a kid in a candy store as you walk in and are completely enveloped by nature.

Large stone tiles served as the walkway within the greenhouse, otherwise, you’d threaten to step on the herbs and flowers that grew in every available nook and cranny. You noticed that there was quite a sophisticated irrigation system, with a long trough surrounding the perimeter of the room, making it easy for water to flow freely to all of the plants.

A small pond was in one corner, lily pads blooming with lotuses had large, green bullfrogs hopping from leaf to leaf. Dragonflies skied across the clear surface of the water, occasionally flying by a cattail and clinging to the reed instead as turtles made their way from the bottom to bask on rocks surrounded by pickerel and arrowhead flowers.

Lisa directed your attention to the large wooden tables that held most of the other plants, and you realized that these pots were filled with almost every medically relevant flora you had ever seen.

“Is this where you get your medicine stock from?” you wondered, as you gingerly stroked the thick leaves of an aloe vera plant.

Lisa nodded her head. “Yes. My husband quickly picked up on how much I enjoyed gardening, so he built me this greenhouse so that I could have the freshest of ingredients for my tonics.”

“I’m not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that this would be what my personal Heaven would look like,” you confessed.

A genuine blush rose to Lisa’s cheeks when you said this, and her flustered hands almost dropped a pair of clippers that she had brought to cut off leaf stems. “Oh you are too kind,” she whispered.

“It’s wonderful that you were able to accomplish so much, Lisa. The amount of progress that you have been able to make is astonishing,” your eyes glittered with excitement as you ran over and to grab a hold of her hands. “I never believed that the teachings of my ancestors would ever become reality. The fact that you were able to help keep all of this rich history alive… it… it invigorates me!” you laugh, a radiant sound that bounces off the glass walls. “And that you’re human no less. I always knew that there would always be some particularly gifted non-magical folk out there in the world, but…” you leaned in, and brushed away a stray hair of hers. “I never believed I would ever meet one.”

Lisa’s big, bright blue eyes blink at you in surprise. “What….what’s that supposed to mean?”

You back away, realizing you may have startled her a bit. “Oh… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to get so overzealous… it’s just… it’s as if my clan were still alive,” you said, in a steady voice, not trying to guilt her in any sort of fashion. “I know Vlad helped out a lot too it’s just… I dunno… it makes me really happy that you’re here--”

Your voice cuts off as Lisa brings you into a very tight hug, her chin resting on the top of your head. Her arms are wrapped around you, some fingers going through your hair and others scratching soothing lines down your back. “It’s alright, little one,” she cooed, echoing the nickname that Vlad had given to you. “I’m so thankful that you were able to find me. You’re your families survivor, the one that can keep their traditions alive. You will never forget all those that fell, so you pursuing your dream means that they did not die in vain.”

Your bottom lip trembled as she said this to you, her wave of blue emotions washing over you as the two of you stood in the tight embrace. You rubbed the big, globs of tears that slid down your cheeks with the back of your hand, confused as to why you were so upset.

Were you more sensitive to emotions after that reading you had given Adrian last night?

If that’s the case, you thought to yourself, this is going to be a rough day.

Lisa pulls away when she notices you struggling to fight back tears, and hands you one of the clean towels she keeps in a large wicker basket. “Are you alright?” she asked, as she helped you wipe them away.

“Yeah… yeah I think so, I think I’m just a little bit more sensitive to emotions today,” you explain, blowing your nose into the towel.

“Well, that took a turn for the sappy, I suppose,” Lisa muttered, before the both of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“At least I know that I’ve finally found my true purpose in life,” you replied. “It was destiny that you and I should meet.”

Lisa nodded her head in agreement. “Indeed it was.”

The rest of the day was spent in the greenhouse, with Lisa showing you how to properly take care of and document the plants inside. You needed to know all the plants in there like the back of your hand, and know the proper ingredients necessary to make the most popular and simple remedies.

You got familiar with the layout, and the plants as well. Humming and singing soft tunes as you hopped across the stones, occasionally reaching out to a couple hands that stretched out for attention; the hoya carnosas being especially needy. It was important to let them know you meant no harm, and were someone they could trust. If plants did not respect you, they could refuse to grow or even shrivel away due to the lack of incentive to stay.

Most of the herbs instantly craved your attention, having easily picked up on your years of experience raising and pampering their specific genus. The aloe were a bit fussy at first, some of the more exotic species especially having an attitude, alongside the ferns. Honestly, you get big and bushy and are used in so many remedies, and suddenly they think they’re better than most other plants.

It was rather amusing, seeing these strange little dichotomies that had developed within the greenhouse. You picked up that all of the plants loved Lisa, she was their mother, some of them going so far as to hold her in a similar reverence to Gaia. Vlad was also held in high regard, the lavender cooing about how in love he and Lisa were, they thought it was adorable. A couple stems of peppermint echoed the sentiments, saying that Lisa glows whenever he is around her, and she adds just a dash… of, well, they don’t exactly know what it is, but they call it “the light”, to their care.

All of this brought a smile to your lips, and you almost cackled when they shifted their focus to Adrian. Several basil plants complained that when he was little, he would always run amuck through the little plants, like the mosses and tiny spurs that grew alongside the pond.

Oh! But a bundle of hawthorn added. Even as he grew older, and expressed interest in working alongside his mother, he was a clumsy mess, spilling fresh dirt everywhere, or spilling water onto those who didn’t need it! It was a good day when Lisa finally decided it would be best if he remained in the castle to complete his studies.

You laughed quietly, but a high pitched chorus of giggles caught your attention, and you turned your head to find a patch of hibiscus flowers. They were a rainbow of colors, some were orange, others a bright yellow, some a startling white with fushia patches at the edge of their petals, and others were the classic deep red.

You furrowed your brow, and gave them a small glare. What are they laughing about?

Hibiscus were tricky flowers, gossipy little things that would prattle on about love and matchmaking.

Oh, she hears us, the white one giggled.

Really? an orange exclaimed.

Little girl, one said in a much older voice. It was a gorgeous hibiscus, a light pink that had hues of magenta and a rich blue pallet around the stigma. I know the true feelings that lay in your heart.

What? you think.

Playing dumb does not suit you my dear, she groaned. The one with the beautiful golden hair, the prince of darkness--

You look away, a dark red blush on your face as you stomp off to leave the greenhouse, the flowers giggling behind your back as you refrained from slamming the door shut.

Your breaths came out in puffs in front of you, embarrassed and on edge after that rather confrontational conversation. Wiping a bead of sweat off of your brow, you felt a calm settle over you as you gazed up at the moon in the sky.

It was practically time for you and Adrian to meet up again, and albeit, you were a tad bit nervous.

You sincerely hoped that he did not feel uncomfortable around you after that stunt you pulled earlier. It had been hard garnering even a bit of trust with him when it came to Adrian finally listening to you. He had been insanely stubborn the first few days of tutoring, and you had almost threw in the towel before Lisa intervened and spoke to each of you individually.

You had no idea what she said to Adrian, but she told you to see if you could find a different approach to getting him to understand magic. Use what you knew about his learning style to see if you could use other techniques to get it to stick.

After some brainstorming, you noticed that Adrian was a much more traditional student, as he enjoyed reading thick tomes and taking diligent notes, not too far off from what you had been doing the first couple weeks. But now that you were fairly confident about your knowledge on the human body and known ailments, you had begun the more hands-on aspects of working in the greenhouse with Lisa. That is the way that you preferred learning, being able to literally sink your hands into what it is you’re researching.

So you decided that making some form of lecture would benefit Adrian the most, similar to the classes that you had taken when you were much younger. You would come up with test questions, or make him practice a particular magical technique in front of you. Things started to go more smoothly after that, and he would even start talking about himself once in awhile.

You let out a shaky breath as you sat in your desk chair, voice getting trapped in your throat when you hear a knock on the door. “Come,” your voice sounds rough and strained, and you cough to clear it up. “Come in.”

Adrian walks in, a perplexed expression on his face. “Are you alright?” he asked.

You pour yourself a glass of water and take a sip. After swallowing the big gulp, you nod your head. “Yeah, sorry,”

He gets situated in the chair next to you, pulling out his own journal, quill, and book from a large messenger bag his father had loaned him. “From where we left off last night, then?”

You froze, but quickly shrugged off the feeling. “Yes, intent…” you quickly reached for the notes you had prepared days earlier, thanking the goddesses that you had some sort of map to rely on in terms of discussion topics.

To your surprise (and honest relief) the night went off just fine. Your approach was really paying off, and the questions that the both of you exchanged had led to very rich discussions. Adrian appeared very pleased, a smile on his face as he waved his quill over the page to help the ink dry faster.

“Tonight was very enjoyable,” he said, and put it down once the words were set.

“I’m glad. I’m actually surprised by how much we were able to cover,” you replied. Your eyes widened at the sudden surprise of a bright blue bundle of sparkling stars, and Adrian turned his head to see what you were looking at.

“Oh, that’s just Aria,” he said, and raised his hand up, as one would for a small bird, before the stars shedded from her like snake’s skin and disappeared from sight. She fluttered onto his outstretched index finger and gave a rather dramatic yawn.

“Seems as though she’s just awoken from her nap,” he said. He gave her a delicate scratch with his long nails, and she gave a delighted hum in response.

A question you had asked yourself long ago suddenly popped back in your head and you let out a quiet, “Oh!”

“Adrian?” you began. “Why does Aria stay in the castle? I know she claims you’re her “Master”, but, how did she end up here?”

He was quiet for a moment, a somber expression on his face before it quickly washed away. “When I had been fairly young, my father and I had been walking around the woods you see before you,” his golden eyes gazed out of the window, upon the pine trees that stretched on for miles into the dark night. “It had been a day where we had gone looking for some local insects, mostly butterflies and beetles. But, that’s when we heard tiny cries for help.”

Aria finally opened her eyes, her bright blue orbs widening in sadness as she heard what he was talking about.

“A group of fairies,” Adrian said, eyes narrowing. “Had been captured, by a group of greedy humans. They used traps to secure their capture, and would then sell off their wings and eventually even their bones for use in dark spells.”

You looked over at Aria, whose wings had lowered, and she had brought her legs up to her chest, tiny tears sticking to her long eyelashes like dewdrops. “Why would they do that?” you cried out. “Fairies are such peaceful, beautiful, giving creatures. What good would that bring them?”

“Profit.” Adrian spat. “Father knew what was going on, and was thankfully able to scare them away. Even as a child I thought they deserved more than just a good fright, but the fairies were saved.”

Aria nodded her head. “Yup!” she cried out, rubbing the last few tears away on her arm. “The rest of my sisters and cousins and friends live inside the garden now,” she fluttered over to you. “You… well, I visit there sometimes, and they often tell me how kind you are to all the plants. And even… well, the new fairy gardens that you added have been a really nice addition too…” her face was flushed a cute pink, eyes downcast and her hands behind her back in bashfulness.

You gave her a kind smile. “You’re welcome, small lady.”

She blushed, and she covered her face before zipping back to where Adrian sat to hide behind his shoulder.

You giggled, but feeling eyes on you, you turned your attention to Adrian, who immediately turned his head away from your gaze. Confused, you peered at him, and thought you had seen things when you noticed a pink flush to his face--

“Add to the fact,” he suddenly blurted out. “She’s also my familiar.”

“What?!” you exclaimed. “She’s your familiar?” you were dumbfounded. How did he have a familiar, and not you? You were a witch for crying out loud!

“Yes? Why is that so surprising?”

“It… it just is!”

“I have five, what is so surprising about one--”

“Five?!”

“That’s what I said--”

“Five familiars?!” you shouted, letting out a melodramatic moan as you collapsed back into your chair. “That’s not fair, I don’t even have one--”

“Would you like to see them?”

You silenced your groaning at that, and you were immediately back up on your feet. “Really?” you said excitedly. “You would do that?”

Adrian nodded, and gave you a smile. “Of course. I’m sure they would be delighted to meet you.”

#castlevania #castlevania netflix #alucard fahrenheit tepes #alucard castlevania #alucard tepes #adrian tepes #lisa tepes #vlad dracula tepes #reader #female reader #original female character #alucard x reader #alucard tepes x reader #adrian tepes x reader #alucard/reader #alucard tepes/reader #adrian tepes/reader #fan fiction #multi chapter #romance #fantasy #the shield and the sword #chapter 5 #whispers in the garden

[seungkwanslowqualityenglish]

A Bursting World of Color

Who: Jongho [ Ateez ] 

Word Count: 1.1k

Genre: Fluff / AU

Warning: N/A

Summary: Flower by flower, he brought color into your grey world.

Note: I haven’t written anything in a while thanks to college, so this sucks but here it is. Also Kris, this was gonna be longer but I started working on that other fic I was talking about, so it’s not that long. Also I know you want Jongho to break open your skull, but not today.

It was always odd, waking up in a monochromatic world. It was odd seeing nothing but an assortment of grey, while your peers spoke of a variety colors they could see. You would never experience the crisp green of the grass, the deep blue of the sky, or the fiery red of your math teacher’s face when he was angry. You saw light grey, dark grey, and just grey.

The tales of soulmate marks being something you heard from a young age. How they manifest different for everyone. Out there someone might be unable to see purple, another might be unable to see red, and you were unable to see all the colors. This sign being something that would disappear, or in your cause cause the colors to appear, when you meet your soulmate.

You hated it, having to rely on your family and friends when getting dressed, so you would not look like a clown. Which you had more than once. Seeing only varying shades of grey was not the sign you would have wished for, you could live without seeing blue like your best friend did, since she saw all others. Or you could live with having a red string on your pinky that only you and your soulmate can see, as your other friend had.

As a child you hated your mark, and it would be lying to say you liked it any more as a teen and the somewhat adult you are today. Everyone else’s was so easy. Mina’s sky turned blue once she met her soulmate, and Jackson’s red string disappeared once he met his. You would have loved a simplistic easy sign like that, not what you had.

When you were fifteen was when you saw your first non-grey color. You had locked eyes with Mina, and suddenly you could see her deep brown eyes, but that was it. While her eyes were colored, nothing else was. That was when you first learned about the complexities of your sign, seeing how your parents seemed to have it the same. This was when you learned about platonic soulmates and what they are. That is what Mina was, she was someone that brought color into your life, your best friend forever.

The second time you were seventeen. This time it was Jackson, and you found yourself able to see the vibrant silver of his hair. Once again a platonic soulmate, and no sign of who might be your true soulmate in sight.

The third time you were on your way home from class. There was a little flower shop you often walked by. There was a lovely little old lady that owned it, and it wasn’t odd for her son, his wife, and their children to be helping her occasionally. On this day, someone who was organizing the flowers outside caught your eye. As you turned away, your eyes were drawn back to him, yet your vision of him was cut off due to a flower in someone’s outstretched hand, a vibrant pink amaryllis. Taking it, you found yourself unable to reply. Which the person who gave it, had disappeared before you could, so you could not have anyways. Yet, his words resounded in your head, ‘A beautiful flower for a beautiful person.”

This however, was not the last time you heard him. The next time it was a beautiful yellow sunflower that cut in your vision, distracting you from the person who seemed out of place working at a floral shop, along with a similar sentiment.

A purple anemone was forced into your hand the next day. It was odd, you never saw the one who gave the flowers, but the smile from the person working alongside whoever it was helped. You started to assume who your soulmate might be, since the flowers became vibrant and your world began to burst with color each time you passed by.

Beautiful white carnations were given to you the next day, the green stem becoming visible to you for the first time. Your world was growing color by color, it was weird, but welcome. No longer just shades of grey, you welcomed the change, especially seeing how the only constant seemed to be the tall boy with the green hair at the shop.

Maybe you had built up the suspense in your head a bit too much. Built up the idea of who this boy with the vibrant green hair might be. Built up the idea of some amazing meeting, that your world would burst with colors, unseen colors would become vibrant, and that your world would be complete. However, the grey toned flower in your hand seemed to disagree with that. “It’s an orange gladiolus.” He told you, yet, all you could see was the green stem, and grey flowers. Something, you hadn’t expected, a hitch in your plan, in the dream your mind had created.

It was odd, the next time you passed by, a flower still came your way. Maybe something in your mind clicked this time. Possibly it was the lack of the tall out of place boy, or the fact that it finally hit you that whoever that was couldn’t have been your soulmate. A large flower, a color you’ve never know, invades your view. As you turned, you saw the owner of the flower for the first time. He wasn’t that tall, yet he also didn’t seem that out of place, unlike the other. A simple name tag read Jongho, a fitting name, you thought, as you accepted the hydrangea. “A orange hydrangea”, a person standing in front of you said. Drawing closer to the one, who could manage to bring color into your dull world, you ignored the soft sound of laughing, coming from someone standing just near the doorway of the store. It wasn’t until you heard a harsh voice yelling something along the lines of, are you telling your brother the colors wrong again, that the figure spoke, yelling a quick it’s blue before turning to run.

Blue or orange, you didn’t mind, you had found the one to bring color into your life. The one who you were thankful to, for bring color into your grey scaled world

One by one the colors burst into your dull world. The lovely blue sky, dark green grass, and vibrant colored flowers became a constant in your life. All the colors revealed, however one oddly remained grey. Days past, the color never coming into your life, the color still just grey. Part of you had started to think that color must just be what you see, since how could you see all others but it. Yet, you shouldn’t have lost hope in seeing that color for what it was.

“I love you,” wasn’t something often said between the two of you. To be honest, it was the first time you heard it from him, and the first time he had heard it from you. Suddenly the floral bouquet he had shown you moments prior burst into color. A bundle of lovely red roses. Your once dull world burst with color, all thanks to him.

#kwritersworldnet #thekpopnetwork #kwritersnet #ateez #jae #jongho #kq fellaz #choi jongho #soulmate au #au! #fluff

[sirens-gemberry]

|| A Fallen Shooting Star ||

It’s always a wonder if the Gods of the Pantheon have fears. If they can feel pain, emotional and physical- and if it could kill them. They always wondered if they felt the same things they felt, mortals twisted by the binds of time. It’s always a wonder...if they dealt with anxiety. With guilt. With depression, and anger issues, and insecurities. If the Gods above even knew of the everyday struggles of man, be it physical or mental strain. Oh yes, the gods knew of this, they did.

If only they, too, knew how to handle such drastic changes.

...It started as an echo.

A painful, searing echo that siphoned through their body.

The Deity of Nighttime’s Slumber had been hiding off in one of the forbidden forests for a while, slumped into the grass with their head resting against a stump as they let go each shuddering, hiccuping, nervous sob that passed through heartbroken lips. They kept asking themselves why they did what they had done, why they acted so impulsively and foolishly- that they should be beyond their emotions by now after being hurt…Even then, the response to their own questions were the same. That they were a fool. That they didn’t deserve the position they had over other people, that they were no better than the mortals they put to sleep at night against their own wills. Why bother trying anymore? Why work when the mortals feared, hated, even despised you?...They just wanted to be loved.

But slowly, ever slowly, the sobbing stopped- accompanying this dull and hollowed pain. Everything felt stopped. Their hand ghosted over their chest, over where their heart was, and shivered.

The spot where their heart was felt cold..so very cold. They sat up a bit, looking down to where the cold spot was...the skin was pale there, almost ghostly white, and spreading across their body. Their eyes widened, curious. Where the paleness was spreading, the glowing little freckles along their skin dimmed and faded. With each passing moment, the exhaustion started seeping through them. Something felt wrong… Something felt off. Even their emotions, which they were so in-tune with only a few minutes prior, felt numb. Hollow. Empty.

Yet, their limbs felt heavier with each passing minute. Slowly, they forced themselves to their feet, pain shooting through their whole body, having to force whimpers and whines down as they contemplated what to do. They should go to someone but..

‘Why bother? That will just make them worry about you. Or maybe this is entirely normal, and they’ll just treat me like a child…’ The Deity thought to themselves, a hand winding around their stomach and watching their other hand as the color started draining more and more from it, tanned hands slowly turning a sickly pale.

Yet they couldn’t help but feel annoyed that, despite having millenia of experience under their belt, they were the youngest of the Deities- thus not having a court of their own quite yet.

‘Even if I wanted to call for help...I can’t. No one knows I’m here…’ Their cooling brown eyes widened at that, trying to stumble forward to make their way out of the forest- but each step was clumsy and slow. The chilling feeling was getting stronger, causing them to shiver and shake almost violently, taking shaky breaths to try and steady themselves. Despite the lack of feeling their body had, making them start to stumble further and sway, a sob breaches through their throat, a primal fear that even the coldness of the illness could not take away.

They were afraid of what might be beyond that distant veil…

But their cries were unanswered, when their legs gave out on them. They expected to feel the ground rushing up to meet them, but they simply felt like they fell into a floating realm, beyond the stars themselves…

They were unconscious before they even hit the ground.

Bea must have been searching, frantic, for the hours upon agonizing hours that passed, wondering where the tinier God had run to after their altercation earlier that day. When news had turned up amongst the Pantheon for the meeting that night that the young God wasn’t present at the meeting, many of them went into a sudden scramble to find them- knowing they had no sprites nor a court of their own. She had just been whirling back around towards the meeting hall to see if any news had come forward yet, brow creased with frustration and an unshakable worry, when one of the younger sprites assisting the Pantheon that ran over, out of breath, with news of their findings.

The Goddess of Justice raced out alongside the little sprite, up until they had reached back to the young deity’s quarters- dark blue starry curtains the only gateway into their little abode. However, Bea’s eyebrows furrowed, feeling a strong presence inside there. She reached down, taking out her sword with one swift movement.

“Stay out here, little one. Beyond that veil may lie danger...I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” She said quietly to the sprite beside her, who’s eyes widened and hid behind Bea if only for a brief moment, before the Goddess stepped forward and stepped past the curtain.

Their home, once so full of vibrant yet simplistic life, now felt dull and dim. Muted. The Goddess with light magenta hair squinted in focus, the gentle pulse of her own power thrumming through her hands and into her sword, looking around for a few moments before slowly taking a few steps inside. She looked around, at the dark and looming shadows. One’s Bea recognized very well.

“The shadow monsters...why are they here? As far as I knew, they’ve only ever affected the mortals...but Gods themselves..?” Bea rose an eyebrow, blinking with curiosity, before she felt the tug of her power, calling towards the minor deity’s own, as faint as it was. Bea couldn’t fuss with combating them right then, or figuring out why they were here, quickly sheathing her sword again and racing off after the feeling she felt, worry consuming any rational thought.

She slowed down when she found their room, hidden in a back part area of the house. She’d...never been here before. Usually they’d just have some tea or likewise in the main foyer of the abode. Vines surrounded the doorway, leaves just faintly fluttering out of their lining and berries just barely noticeable, thrumming with a green energy.

“...Lacey. Leave it to her to protect them.” Bea whispered to herself, before opening the door and stepping inside, quickly closing the door behind her.

The Goddess of Berries, also known more accurately as Lacey “Olive” Wilder, was knelt beside the Deity, who looked almost deathly pale. The strands of hair, previously teal, were slowly beginning to drain into a dark brown, and there was age set into their previously youthful face. Their eyes were thankfully shut, although several sprites that fluttered by Lacey quickly checked various parts of their body. Bea noticed for a brief moment that when their eyes were checked, they were completely black- as if there was no light behind them at all. The sprites quickly scattered into the far corners of the room as she approached.

“....Evening, Olive.” Bea walked over, trying her best to be polite despite knowing how it deviated from her usual greeting. It felt too somber to say anything like what she did normally.

“...” Lacey paused, looking to Bea for a moment before sighing, feeling sparks of green magic fade from her hands as she turned her attention away from the comatose deity. She already knew why Bea was here, and had her suspicions on what may have happened...though, she kept those thoughts to herself.

“They aren’t well, Bea...so many gods and goddesses are falling prey to illness or even dying due to the lack of prayers going out to them, or simply lack of will. For each deity, it’s different…” Lacey explained, “For them, it’s not only the lack of so few prayers they get, but the lack of willingness to continue existing. They’ve been so determined to wall off their heart from the rest of the world, that they got what they wanted, in a sick and twisted sense. Bea...their heart has become the definition of what one would consider a black hole. It’s sucking the life out of them, slowly but surely. While the illness slowed down significantly since they’ve gone into a comatose state...If something isn’t properly done about it, they will die, Bea.”

Listening to Lacey’s explanation, The Goddess of Justice’s light brown eyes never left their face, up until the last part of what she said made her head snap towards the slightly older goddess and her blood to run cold.

“You can’t be serious, Olive...Th-They’re still one of the newest of us! They can’t already be...” She trailed off after shouting as loud as she did, feeling her heart start to race with panic.

“Unfortunately, Bea, that’s what makes this all the more factual. The newer deities are those who are more easily affected by this, as they have no solid position in their realm yet. Their souls, new or old as they are, are easier to be claimed the newer their potential is unlocked.” Lacey explained, turning her attention back to the little Deity at hand, her magic thrumming to life once more- and as Bea noticed- poured through into them.

“...Are you trying to wake them up?” She asked, curious.

“With what life magic I have, I’m trying to protect their most vital parts of their lifeforce that haven’t already been touched by the illness.” Lacey explained, before sighing and getting up, “But it won't work, forever.”

“...” Bea stared down at the young god, face contorted between grief and determination. She's known them for as long as they've existed in the Pantheon, but up until that same day did she only start to see them as something potentially more than just her best friend.

“I’m going to fix this…” She whispered to herself, “I’m fixing this mess for you, okay?”

As she spoke, she put a hand delicately along their cheek, feeling how cold it felt under fingertips- to the point she nearly flinched. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think they were…

“...I promise.” She shook her head out of it long enough to whisper that, just more quietly, before getting up and drawing her sword.

“I’m going to go deal with those shadow monsters outside the room. What are they doing here, anyway?” Bea asked, turning her attention back to Lacey, who shrugged.

“They appeared not too long after they had been brought into my care. I believe they’re also siphoning off of the deity’s negative emotions, progressing the illness. It’s why I have the wards up outside of this room.” Lacey explained, watching as Bea’s face grew more and more to that of a silent anger. Not at anyone else, mind you, but herself. She felt like she was to blame for all of this, knowing how they’ve been. She’s been the only one they open up to- she could have prevented this, she knows it!

“...Of course. Thanks, Olive.” Bea muttered, her tone quieter, holding more weight than before. Lacey pauses, looking to Bea briefly.

“Be careful, okay?”

“Don’t worry. Those monsters are going down, no matter how long it might take.” Bea said, reassurance laced alongside the quiet venom of anger in her tone, as she unsheathed the sword in her belt once more, smirking back to Lacey before turning to leave.

“I’m bringing our Deity back to the Pantheon, whether those shadow-fucks like it or not.”

[[ Ft: @honey-beatrix I'm sorry love lmao~ ]]

#;;pidge's things #;;ren sharp #;;save file: deities #mY HAND SLIPPED #stardropdms #I NEARLY FORGOT THIS TAG DJFJFMSHD GHH

[beccaland]

Beccaland reads and responds to an article about Doctor Who that she really should have known better than to have read in the first place

You know how you KNOW you should never read the comments sections, but sometimes you just can’t help yourself? That’s usually how I feel about reading articles about Doctor Who during the past few years, except from a handful of trusted sources. Yet there I was this morning, checking my regular email from Tor.com, and out of a slightly-morbid curiosity, I found myself reading “How It Feels to Want to Watch Doctor Who Again” by Alex Brown.

Partly, I really am interested in the fans who are getting interested in Doctor Who again. They left for a lot of reasons, and really you can’t begrudge anyone’s waning interest in a TV show. And it would be far, far more silly to begrudge them regaining interest! I’m excited for the awesome changes that are coming on October 7th, too. And I am fully aware that not every era is every fan’s cup of tea. On the other hand, I also know that I’m frequently irritated by the shallow criticism levelled in order to “justify” some fans’ disaffection. So there I was. Reading an article I knew very well was probably going to annoy me, like a masochist.

And just because I feel like it, I’m going to quote a bunch of it and offer my own commentary. I’m going to be as fair as I can, noting where I think a given critique is valid, where I think it’s valid but still disagree, and where I think it’s the same old tired, inaccurate nonsense.

Here we go:

“I miss Doctor Who.”

ME TOO!

“There was a time when I watched it fervently, reverently, passionately. It was something I put on when I was stressed or overwhelmed or needed to be reminded of the good things in life. The relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was powerful and affirming.”

Yeah, I do that too, but I never really stopped.

“Until suddenly it wasn’t.”

I mean, sure. Doctor Who did something on a purely personal and emotional level for the author, and then it stopped. That’s totally fair.

This actually happened to me with the novels in the ‘90s–they just weren’t doing enough for me imaginatively or emotionally anymore to justify the challenge of finding them and the expense of buying them. It happens. (I still wanted Doctor Who in my life though, so I rewatched my VHS tapes instead, until they had degraded in quality to the point where that wasn’t very fun either.)

“The show twisted into something unrecognizable and unpleasant. And so I abandoned Doctor Who just as it had abandoned me.”

The really negatively loaded language here bugs me a lot, but this article is a personal fan narrative more than it is a review, and it’s impossible to refute a subjective response. Clearly, it’s true that Alex Brown and the show were no longer on the same wavelength. So, fair enough.

“If you asked me in 2016 if I would ever watch Doctor Who again, I probably would’ve shaken my head and sighed. The chances of the show making the kind of changes necessary to pull me back seemed slim to none. But here we are, fall 2018, and I am so excited about the Season 11 premiere that I can barely stand it.”

I’m really happy about everyone coming back. I share this excitement!

[I’m omitting a couple of paragraphs here where Brown describes more of what Doctor Who meant to her when she first encountered the show during an obviously extremely difficult time in her life. It’s really moving, and I find it relatable in some ways.]

“With the takeover by Steven Moffat in 2010, my relationship with the Doctor shifted dramatically. As much as I loved Doctor Who, I wasn’t blinkered to its myriad problems.”

See, my issue with this is simply that it implies that people like me ARE “blinkered by its myriad problems.” We’re not. But sometimes we disagree about what those problems are, or where the blame (and praise) for those problems (and their amelioration) properly lies. Hence this post.

“Trouble was, the annoying but tolerable issues were magnified into something unbearable by Moffat’s numerous faults as showrunner. Under Moffat, seasons went from episodic romps loosely knitted together by repeating themes—think “Bad Wolf” Easter eggs throughout the first season—to Lost-style mystery box seasons bogged down in an increasingly convoluted and grimdark mythology.”

I think it’s fair to say that the series 6 arc in particular was much heavier than previously attempted by the show, and this was a turnoff for some viewers. Personally, I liked it a lot conceptually, but I acknowledge that it could have been better executed. It’s also not representative of Moffat’s whole era; he experimented a lot with structure. That in itself was probably frustrating to some viewers–again, I liked it a lot, but that’s neither here nor there.

However, calling the Moffat era “grimdark” is frankly bizarre. It seems to confuse a shift in LIGHTING with a shift in TONE. The Moffat era’s TONE was, if anything, substantially more hopepunk than the RTD era (to say nothing of Torchwood, which Brown also professes to adore).

“River Song, Cybermen, Daleks, and the Master work best when used sparingly,”

Yeah, I agree.

“but Moffat dragged them out of the toy box so often that they lost their appeal.”

A criticism that (aside from River, for whom YMMV) applies equally to the RTD era.

“Even the Doctor suffered from too much focus. Doctor Who is a show that flourishes when it cares more about the people the Doctor helps than the Doctor. The Doctor is much more interesting as a character who drops into other people’s stories than when everyone else exists only to serve the Doctor’s narrative.”

This is a matter of taste, and on that level cannot be refuted.

But I’m not actually sure it’s true that the stories in the Moffat era focused more on the Doctor than was the case in previous eras. It didn’t seem that way to me. I suppose one could develop some way of objectively evaluating the validity of that premise, but I’m not going to go to that much trouble.

“Worse, women went from equals with their own vibrant lives to codependent followers.”

This is not merely a matter of personal taste. It is an assertion about content of the sort which could hypothetically be supported by evidence. If it were true. And it is literally the opposite of true. It’s a gross mischaracterization of the Moffat era companions, and moreover ignores the sometimes-problematic characterizations of the RTD era companions. I’m skipping the rest of that paragraph, which merely rehashes worn-out, shallow readings of Amy and Clara’s characters. I have nothing to say about those arguments that I haven’t said elsewhere before.

“[Moffat’s] seeming disdain for how fans interpreted the series,”

Showrunners SHOULD disdain how fans interpret their work. Or, more accurately, they should ignore it. Since fans are a motley bunch, the alternative would be a total lack of creative vision, either deeply bland or utterly fractured.

“for critiques of his own biases and bigotries,”

In reality, Steven Moffat demonstrated a remarkable openness to critiques of his biases and made steady progress in addressing them both in front of the camera and behind the scenes.

“and for the depth the show was capable of became a virus that infected everything.”

From where I sit, Doctor Who demonstrated far more depth during the Moffat era than during the RTD era (and some of the deepest scripts in RTD’s era were written by Moffat and according to RTD, barely touched by his editorial influence). I’m willing to consider the possibility that the RTD era displayed depths that I failed to perceive, but given the number of times I’ve rewatched it and the fact that I study texts for a living, I have to say I think that’s a long shot. I would welcome a persuasive analysis of the depths of the RTD era.

“I have never been one to shy away from dropping shows that I no longer like, but I held onto Doctor Who longer than I should have. I finally tapped out after the frustrating penultimate episode of Season 6, “The Wedding of River Song.” Reductive, repetitive, and boring, the episode encapsulated everything I couldn’t stand about Moffat’s storytelling.”

OK, Brown has got a point there. I love TWORS for purely personal reasons (it was just FUN, in the same way that the more crazy-ambitious failures often are in Doctor Who), but I’m under no illusions about its quality. In addition to being “reductive [and] repetitive” that episode was also rushed and full of holes. I didn’t find it boring, but that’s a subjective thing.

It’s a bit weird though that Brown claims to have quit watching Doctor Who at the end of series 6, since earlier she critiqued both Clara and Moffat’s “over"use of Missy, both of whom post-date Brown’s purported exit. Hmm. Seems like (as is not uncommon, in my experience) people who dislike Moffat base a lot of their dislike on mere hearsay.

"Although Moffat drove me away from Doctor Who, other factors kept me from coming back. A not insignificant chunk of my exhaustion came from the frustratingly limited diversity and the frequently poor treatment of characters of color—see Martha and Bill, plus the weirdness around the few major interracial relationships.”

OK, this is approximately half fair. There WAS a frustrating lack of diversity which continued well into Moffat’s era. Martha and her weird marriage to Mickey are RTD’s doing entirely. And the author claims not to have ever seen series 10, so she’s hardly in a place to evaluate Bill’s treatment (which, for the record, seemed pretty great to me–vastly better than in any previous era, anyway, though there’s no doubt that there is still room for improvement).

“Prior to Season 11 there had never been an Asian or South Asian companion despite the fact that people of South Asian ancestry make up nearly 7% of the population of England and Wales, according to the most recent census. Islam is the second largest religion in the UK, yet Muslims are also largely absent from the show, and certainly from the role of companion.”

This is a totally fair criticism.

“Moffat said it was hard to cast diversely without impinging on historical accuracy,”

Gonna want a citation for that one; I admit it’s possible he said something like that at some point but I feel like I would remember if he had.

“a notion that is patently false and wholly ignorant of actual history.”

A point which Sarah Dollard makes in the series 10 episode “Thin Ice,” with the enthusiastic approval of Moffat himself.

“To be fair, Moffat also admitted this claim was nonsense and rooted in a white-centric view of history and acknowledged that the show needed to do better…then made absolutely no changes.”

Thanks for being fair…almost. In fact he made substantial changes during his tenure, though most happened after Alex Brown quit paying attention. Seems to me that if you’re going to write an article for a blog affiliated with a major SF publisher, you might actually want to check your facts rather than relying on information that’s several years out of date (if it was ever true).

“And don’t even get me started on frequent Moffat collaborator and Who writer Mark Gatiss who infamously whined about diversity initiatives ruining historical accuracy because they cast a Black man as a soldier on an episode about Queen Victoria’s army battling Ice Warriors on Mars.”

Yeah, this I do remember. Ew, Gatiss! What were you thinking?

“Not to mention Moffat’s asinine declarations that we couldn’t have a woman Doctor becausehe 'didn’t feel enough people wanted it’ and 'This isn’t a show exclusively for progressive liberals; this is also for people who voted Brexit.’”

This is also the man who wrote the first-ever gender-changing regeneration (of the Doctor, no less!) in his comedy special, “The Curse of the Fatal Death,” the first female incarnation of a previously male Time Lord (Missy, who turned out to be incredibly popular), and the first official, non-comedy, on-screen gender-changing regeneration scene (the General, in Hell Bent), thus paving the way for even many of those non-liberal, Brexit-voting audiences to accept a female Doctor, and making it virtually impossible for the BBC not to do it without looking like total assholes (though by that point they were totally on board and needed to further persuasion).

But sure, go ahead and cherry-pick a couple of real-but-not-representative Moffat quotes to perpetuate your misogynistic Moffat pseudo-narrative.

[Cutting the rest of that paragraph because it adds nothing to the critique]

“Why can’t we have a trans or disabled companion? Why can’t the Doctor be a queer woman of color?”

These are totally legitimate questions, and we should keep asking them.

“Do you know what it’s like to be told by someone in a position of power that you don’t belong here? That you are an aberration, a glitch in the matrix, that including you would be so inaccurate that it would collapse the narrative structure of a fictional television show that features a frakking alien traveling through time in a police box?”

Yes. I do.

And when you dismissed Amy and Clara as mere sexist stereotypes, mere codependent hangers-on of the Doctor, you re-inflict that wound on me and many other fans, because you’ve been granted a position of power, a platform in the blog of a major international SF publisher.

“Hearing that message all the time from pop culture is hard enough, but to get it from my favorite show was heartbreaking.”

I feel ya, Alex Brown. This needs to continue to be addressed.

But I’ll also remind readers that the Moffat era, despite its still-too-limited representation, gave us more disability representation than any other era of the show up to that point.

“Cut to the Jodie Whittaker announcement in July, 2017. For the first time in years, I watched the Christmas special—live, no less. To give credit where credit is due, Moffat’s swan song exceeded my (very low) expectations and Peter Capaldi was as excellent as I hoped he’d be. Whittaker had almost no screen time, but what she did get left me with a smile a mile wide.

"On top of her pitch-perfect casting, Thirteen will also be joined by three new companions, one a Black man and another a woman of Indian descent. Plus, the Season 11 writers’ room has added a Black woman, white woman, and a man of Indian descent. Several women will also be directing. New showrunner Chris Chibnall proclaimed that the renovated show will tell 'stories that resonate with the world we’re living in now,’ and will 'be the most accessible, inclusive, diverse season’ ever produced.

"These changes go beyond tokenism and into real diversity work. The show isn’t just sticking a woman in the titular role and patting themselves on the back. Diversity can’t just be about quotas. It must be about inclusion and representation in front of and behind the camera. Marginalized people need to be able to tell our own stories and speak directly to our communities. The majority already gets to do that, and now that conversation needs to happen across the board. The show still has a lot of work to do, both in terms of undoing the status quo of harmful tropes and in laying strong groundwork for later casts and crews. Yet, somewhat surprisingly, I feel hopeful for the show’s future.”

I totally agree with these three paragraphs (except I had high expectations of TUAT, which were also exceeded). In fact these paragraphs are a big part of why I felt like this article was worth sharing. I just couldn’t do it without significant reservation.

“And isn’t hope what the show is really all about? Doctor Who is a story about the hope for a better tomorrow, faith in your companions, and trust that you’re doing the right thing. It’s about a hero using their immense powers responsibly and in order to benefit those who need it the most. The Doctor creates space for the marginalized to stand up and speak out, to fight for their rights against those who would silence or sideline them.”

I’m not totally sure that that’s ever really been true before, but it’s an ongoing aspiration that the show keeps moving closer to.

“For too long, that ideal was lost to puzzle boxes, bloated mythology, and trope-y characters”

No it wasn’t. See above.

“but with the appearance of each new Thirteenth Doctor trailer, my hope grows a little more.

"It’s not often that you find your way back to something you loved and lost. At first, Doctor Who was a touchstone during my trials and hardships. Then it became a cornerstone in the foundation of the new life I was building. For a long time I left it encased in a wall, hidden in the basement of my subconscious, untouched and unwanted. Yet here I stand, sledgehammer in hand, putting a hole in that wall. I have set free my love of Doctor Who as Jodie Whittaker cheers me on. October 7 can’t come soon enough.”

This sentiment is really lovely. Welcome back, Alex Brown, and every other fan returning to Doctor Who after an absence of any length and for any reason. It’s shaping up to be a great new era.

Please remember, though, when talking to other fans, that other eras meant as much to some of them as this one means to you, and for similar reasons.

To those who are leaving because of toxic discourse about previous eras making them feel like their presence isn’t welcome and/or participating in fandom right now will only cause them pain: I’m going to miss you. I hope your DVDs and Big Finish and stuff continue to bring you joy. I hope you’ll come back again when it’s safe to do so.

To those who are leaving because they don’t like the idea of a female Doctor and/or two POC companions: BYE BYE! To be honest, nobody will miss you, but nevertheless I hope that eventually you realize how silly and harmful your biases are. When you do, I hope you’ll come back to Doctor Who. And you’ll be welcome.

#doctor who #series 11 #thirteenth doctor #dw fandom discourse

[poppyknitt]

Heterochromia; Part one

Ringing. Darkness.

The heart monitor next to the bed is beeping.

People are talking. An older woman is sobbing hysterically. Her husband consoling her.

You can’t hear what they’re saying. It’s as though you were submerged in water; you couldn’t make out any words. The last thing you had been able to make out was the doctor informing your mother that you weren’t going to make it much longer. You had no idea how long it had been since then, though.

... So, this was it, huh? Here you were, lying in a hospital bed, trapped inside your dying body, unable to see or move or speak, awaiting the sweet embrace of Lady Death herself. You couldn’t even remember how you wound up in the hospital. You were just... here, albeit not for much longer.

Time passes. Eventually, the doctor has to pull the plug, to keep you from suffering any longer. Had you been able to, you probably would have sighed in relief as you finally slipped from the grasp of the mortal world.

Peace. Quiet.

Was this really what the afterlife was like? Just... nothingness? An endless, empty void of lonely darkness?

... Damn... This was... kind of saddening. To think you’d believed, even for a second, that there might’ve been something out there, for those who had passed to gather in and enjoy their post-life existences, only to discover this..?

A quiet foot hitting the nonexistent ground echoed around you, interrupting your spiraling thoughts.

“... It’s a shame, isn’t it...?” You looked around for the source of the voice, and blinked in surprise, once you found it. It was... a practically monochrome girl, small in size, wearing a black hoodie that held some of the only color on her (its hood and minimal designs were... rainbow? i don’t know, it just looks like someone took a color wheel from a digital art program and pasted its gradient colors onto the hood.) and outlined with white. Her eyes were the only other part of her that had any color, although, you could only see her right one, which had a vibrant amber or gold iris. The other was hidden behind her bangs. You didn’t really need to see it to read her expression, though, seeing as the empty, emotionless look on her face sort of said enough about her. She... almost looked like a drawing, to be honest.

You hesitate for a moment, trying to work up the courage to respond. “... Um... what are you talking about..? Who are you..?”

“... Your passing. It wasn’t supposed to happen. You were not meant to die yet. You had... a great many things, both good and bad, awaiting you in the future.” Her expression never changed once as she spoke, her eyes unblinking and voice as soft as a silk blanket or the downy feathers of a chick, even as she avoided the question of who she was.

“... Why am I here?”

“Because I pulled you here. You may not be able to continue your old life, but you can still make up for that.” She closed her eyes, inhaled quietly, and reopened them. “... Come, follow me.”

She raised a hand, extending it to you, as a an array of multicolored strands of magic appeared around her, darting all over the place and settling into white lines depicting the scene around the two of you.

The dark, void-like world was... almost cavern-like, from the way the white outlines of everything depicted it. But, much like her, there were no colors. It was all just... black, with white lines. (Need I reiterate the “... almost looked like a drawing”?)

You reluctantly accepted her offer, and she helped you up, letting go once you were standing. You brushed yourself off, and she started to lead you away.

Oddly enough, despite the cavernous properties of the landscape, you could see that the ground was grassy, especially around the sparse creeks and ponds, where it grew tallest, and sprouted cattails. There were a few patches of random flowers and a couple of lone daisies here and there, too. A blue butterfly of sorts landed on one, and you smiled a bit, thinking this place might not be so bad.

That didn’t last, though, because some blob of darkness shot up from the ground, consuming the little butterfly where it landed. You yelped, stumbling back, and landing painfully on your back end.

“Don’t worry about that, y/n. It’s too weak to risk attacking you, and it’s not stupid enough to try it while I’m here.” She said, not looking back, even as she stopped in her tracks to let you collect yourself and stand back up.

“What..? What the hell does that mean? What is this place?”

“... This is a place of darkness, power, greed, and horrible outcomes. When a timeline from any universe or collection of universes dies, the final remaining monstrosity- typically the catalyst for its destruction, but at times, a sole survivor of the chaos- is sent here, to fend for its life and refrain from dying. This is a desolate world, one where you cannot survive alone, unless your powers allow you to warp or bend reality to your will, making you one of the most powerful entities here.” She stated blankly, “In this world, you must choose who to trust, and who to kill. However, you must choose as wisely as possible, because you may not have a good way of knowing who wants to help you, who wants to kill you, or who only wants to manipulate you into doing things for them, and get rid of you when they no longer see any use in you.”

“W-What the hell-?! H-How-?! Why-?! How... How do I know I can trust you, then?!” You looked at her in a blind, disbelieving panic, wide-eyed and jaw agape.

“You don’t. You can never truly tell who you can or cannot trust. That’s why you can never let your guard down in this place. That’s why it’s never a good idea to be alone. After all, two people are better at telling who to trust and who not to trust than a lone wanderer.” She paused, “... Besides, I’m one of the strongest here. I have no reason to kill or maim you. To do so would be stupid- counterproductive, even.”

“Uh-huh. How do I trust your word when you haven’t even told me your name?”

“How can I give you a name to call me if I don’t have one?”

You paused, blinking in surprise. “... What?”

Somehow, she still hadn’t broken the lack of emotion in her expression. “I don’t have a name. If I did, I would have given it to you.”

“... How... do you not have a name..? Did.. you parents just... never give you one..?”

“I am a construct. I never had any parents; I am the end result of a timeline that collapsed from a major accident. An amalgamation of a nameless reality warper and a crippled war hero with powers no mortal has been able to witness for themselves and describe properly to another. Things... creatures like me don’t have names, whether or not they deserve them.” This was... a lot to take in.

“... I don’t... How..? What do your friends call you, then..?”

“... They use their own nicknames for me. I never bothered to set one specific name I preferred. Besides, I don’t keep in touch with them anymore... Most of them are long gone, lost to the grasp of Lady Death. The others... are not of this world, and cannot keep in touch, as multiversal communication is no easy feat.”

“... Is there at least one that was most commonly used..?”

She hesitated, her expression flooding with an unreadable emotion, not unlike regret or sorrow of some sort. It was gone as soon as it arrived, though.

“... Chromia.”

You smiled a little, “Chromia, huh? That’s... kind of neat. Where’d they get it from?”

She hesitantly closed her eyes again, pulled her bangs out of her face, and reopened them.

... Oh. That... makes sense, now. Her left eye, the one that was hidden from view, was a vibrant scarlet red. She was heterochromatic.

“... Why hide it..?” You asked warily, confusion and concern mixing in your expression.

“Because many of the more sentient of the violent and cruel entities here can tell a lot of your weaknesses based off of their first impressions of you, which means the more you can conceal about your true personality and appearances, the better chance you have of avoiding loosing a fight to them. They eye is the window to the soul; and in a creature such as myself, it can tell you a lot about the nature of your opponent’s powers and the limits to those powers. My heterochromatic irises, coupled with their strikingly unnatural colorations, show others how strong I am, and what kind of abilities I might have. I learned very quickly that I cannot expect to be able to utilize my full power if the enemy knows how I access it, and what my strengths are.”

“... That doesn’t make any sense, but... alright, I guess..”

“You’ll understand in due time, my friend.” A distant, demonic, yet animal-like screech echoes through the lands, and Chromia briefly falters, her eyes darting to the direction it came from. “Come on! We haven’t any more time to waste. If we stay here much longer, we’re bound to be ambushed by her.”

She grabbed you by the wrist, and continued on, at a much faster walking pace than before.

“Wait-! Who the hell are you talking about..?!”

“Doctor Hubble. A chemist, who, soon after graduating college with her Ph.D., wound up in a major lab accident in her workplace, resulting in demon-like alterations to her appearance. She started experimenting on herself to try and get rid of these changes, but in the end, she just made it worse. The experimentations got to her head, and she went mad, killing everyone she cared for, and eventually, devolving both mentally and physically into a monster that tears through everything it finds without even so much of a thought otherwise.”

You struggled to find a response for the next few minutes, eyes wide in confused terror as you were practically dragged behind her.

“... W-What... What was she like? Before all of that happened, I mean...”

“... Sweet. She was... very gentle and caring, although hyperactive and easy to excite. It... was difficult to watch her tear herself apart on the inside and out for so long, only for her to lock herself away in attempt to contain herself and make sure she fixed what happened.”

“... Did you... know her..?”

“... Sort of. My... predecessors, the hero and the mistake, whom I came from, did, although, it wasn’t the specific Doctor Hubble that resides here. They were good friends, though, the mistake made a promise to kill their Hubble if she ever went off the deep end and started killing people... I’m sure you can guess what happened to their version.”

“... What were your predecessors’ names..?”

She paused again, as she slowed her pace and let go, presumably because you were far enough away from the source of the screech to not have to flee anymore. “... The war hero... her name was Luna Wolfe, and... The other one... didn’t have a name, either, though, she went by Null... They came from different timelines of the same world, brought together by Hubble, during one of the chemist’s many journeys around the multiverse. Null was more of an anti-hero than Luna, given her nature and her past, but they were both good at heart.”

“... what... happened to them..?”

“They messed up. Due to them essentially being slightly different versions of the same person, the timeline wasn’t able to support itself in their last fight, because of an anomaly. The nature of their powers, and the fact that they used them at the same time, caused the timeline to collapse. Or, at least, that’s what I understand from the few pieces I’ve managed to fill in.”

You went quiet, not knowing what else to say as you followed her through the... caverns. God, how many others here had such... horrible pasts? Did they all really have so little good in their lives? Why did all this happen?

After a few minutes of thinking, you shook the quickly spiraling thoughts away, deciding you had enough of the confusing mess your mind had become. Maybe... it’s best to just... not ask.

————————————————————

oh hey look, i’m actually writing something that’s not fan content! man, i haven’t done this since august-

#oc worlds #Heterochromia #chromia #reader-insert #oc stuff #my ocs #original writings #character origins

[imaginarydaydreams]

Delirious Daydreams

Concept: When the pain becomes too much and you internalize it, you can’t help but to eventually give into the madness.  Date Written: 9/19/18 Thoughts: My head hurts and I haven’t been feeling the best as of late. So please...just don’t ask. 

The screaming was higher in pitch than her normal soft sobs.  It keened loudly, dipping off into a deep cry, the trembling and tears spilling over and obscuring the sounds into a wet, muddy mess. But her screams were still harsh, ear-splitting--she was sure that people would most likely think some poor animal was getting tortured. Not that a person was slowly but surely losing their sanity to the sleeping world.

But even if there was screaming...even if she was outwardly screaming and it wasn't in her head like everything else, she couldn't tell anymore. The badgering that swirled like a maelstrom in her mind overtook everything--she couldn't even hear her own rational thoughts amongst the whispers and yelling that thumped, thumped, thumped and pulsed against her consciousness. Not allowing her some sort of peace or silence to calm her deteriorating mind. This would have been fine. After all, most people akin this experience to a panic attack, where the moment happens in a split second, overwhelming the senses. One is stuck amongst their own raging thoughts, trying to fend off the darkness and preserve their sense of identity and self for as long as they possibly can. And when clarity returns to their eyes, the moment is forgotten...or at the very least, there is an eerie calm that passes through, sapping the energy from the victim and lulling them into a hopefully peaceful slumber. However, that changes when paired with constant paranoia and trauma, as she currently was facing. She couldn't grasp for any sort of leverage; all of her safety nets have been ripped out from under her, the cruel gods leaving her to flounder on her own as she attempted to fight off the torment with only a pen. And it wasn't like they were kind enough to give her reprieve. No, they played with her mind, forcing thoughts that she never wanted to ponder, ideas of betrayal, to fester inside of her.  And it wasn't just in the waking world. Her dreams were as cruel, if not more cruel, than the paranoid agony that plagued her daily life. They ate away at her psyche, traumatizing her in a plane of existence where she thought she would be safe--the one place that she thought they would protect her.  But even the stars cannot protect against the universe and its judgement. So they could only watch as she twisted and turned in her bed, eyes clenched close and lips turned down into a deep frown. They would hear the small whimpers leave her throat, the tears slowly leaking out from closed eyes, as she tried to fight her way back to consciousness.  But they would continue to hold her there. The darkness chained her down and kept her prisoner, not relenting on showing her her true nightmares until the morning sun was peeking slightly past the horizon. And when they finally released her, she would wake up gasping for air, those cold, crystalline tears finally spilling over and staining her shirt, her hands, painting everything in the cold, sheer terror that ran through her system. This occurred for months. She would be plagued with delirious daydreams during the day; try to desperately distract herself with any means necessary; try to sleep off the pain, only to be met with more delirium in a realm that she couldn't control.  And it was starting to take a toll.  She was always seen as a strong-willed person. A kind soul who would never let herself fall captive to the depression that tried to take her alive. She had friends who looked to her for her reason; work and obligations that needed to be completed. Her light couldn't easily be extinguished. And yet, here she was. They found her weakness and exploited it daily, watching with perverse pleasure at the way that her eyes, once bright and lively, slowly dulled and lost their vibrant color. They watched as her skin became more pale and sickly, the dark circles under her eyes growing darker and darker with each sleepless night.  And if that wasn't enough, they refused to let up. During her waking hours, she was met with more adversity, more hatred, more paranoia that taxed her ability to think, to rationalize, to counter all of these dark, pervasive thoughts with the positivity that she's well-known for. Was well-known for.  But looking at how she was held up gingerly by a string--the string of sanity that could and most likely would snap with the smallest push...she couldn't even think anymore. The thoughts just continued to eat her alive.  And now, as she sat alone in the darkness, loudly sobbing her eyes out until a headache stabbed its way into her head, there was only the delirium to comfort her, providing their honey-poisoned words as false kindness.  “They're lying to you. They don't care. They never have. Now you're going to lose them because you couldn't believe in them.” “And it's going to be all your fault.”  With those final words, the lights finally flickered out from behind her eyes and she allowed herself to succumb to the pain, to the agony, to the madness.  To the delirious daydreams that silently stole her sanity and self away.

#stories weaved from the stars

[blackbearmagic]

blackbearmagic’s Crystal Hunting Guide

Introduction

Scientific Fact: Witches love crystals almost as much as they love jars.  Consumerism Fact: In many metaphysical shops, nice-looking crystals can be had for relatively cheap. Ethical Fact: Many of those crystals are as cheap as they are because they are mined with no consideration for the damage done to the environment or the welfare of the humans collecting them.

So what’s a good, honest, ethically-minded witch to do, especially if he/she/they don’t have the money to afford crystals that were mined sustainably and responsibly, or the time to research which sellers obtain their wares from ethical mines?

Find their own.

I’ve been crystal hunting all my life, but only within the last year have I started doing it seriously. I’ve walked away from a creeking expedition with slabs of smoky quartz the size of my palm or calcite hunks bigger than my fist, and I personally think creek-crystal energy is much more vibrant and easy to work with; by comparison, the crystal points I’ve bought from metaphysical shops feel... inert, lifeless.

So let’s get straight into it!

What You’ll Need

a good-sized creek or stream with lots of gravel spits along its length

offerings to the spirit of the creek, if appropriate to your personal practice

bug spray, sunscreen, snacks, water, and anything else you’d normally bring on a hike

your trusty adventurer’s Bag of Holding

your sweet self

Now let’s talk details.

When I say “gravel spits”, this is what I’m referring to:

These tumbles of stone are going to be where you’ll find your treasures, and the size of the stones themselves actually tells you what size of crystal you might find: When the conditions are right (ie, during a flood), the water flowing through that portion of the creek is capable of lifting and moving rocks of the size you see there now. 

In my experience, the crystal specimens you’ll find are typically half or one-third the size of the average rock on the spit. They’re usually larger than the smallest rocks, but much smaller than the largest rocks. Not always, though--I have found specimens larger. (See the introduction.)

Regarding offerings, if that’s part of your path, you’ll want to make sure it’s nothing that will harm the local wildlife or damage the ecosystem in any way. My personal go-to is water, ideally water from a bottle I haven’t drunk from yet.

In the same vein as offerings, I’ve had great success in making a sort of bargain with the spirit of the place: That in return for treasures, I will pick up and remove any litter I find in the area. It is, of course, always a good idea to remove any litter you see when you’re out in nature, but it doesn’t hurt to point out to the spirit of the place that it’s something you’re doing for it. Bring along a trash bag to help collect it.

Lastly, with regards to your bag, I would advise something with two shoulder straps. Rocks are heavy.

What You’ll Do

Once you’ve hiked to your creek and found a gravel spit with lots of good-sized rocks, it’s time to start looking. There’s two main approaches I’ve found that work well, and I tend to use both. 

The first is a broad sweep. This one works best if you’ve got good lighting on the rocks. All you do is stand in one spot and sway side to side slightly while looking over the gravel, looking for anything that glints, shines, or otherwise catches the light shining on it. If you see something, investigate it. Repeat.

The second is the more detailed search. Get down on the ground--whether that means kneeling, crouching, laying on your belly, I don’t care--and go over each rock one by one. Use your eyes and use your hands. I imagine this method is probably going to be unpleasant for a lot of you, but honestly, it’s like crack to me.

Once you’ve combed over the current gravel spit as thoroughly as you please, pack up and move on to the next. Continue for as long as you like, or until you feel it’s time to go. Just remember that as far out as you go is how far you’ll have to walk back!

Advice and Warnings

Tell someone where you’re going and when you expect to be back. If you godsforbid go missing, they’ll be able to give the police an idea of where to start searching for your poor, lost ass.

Keep a charged cell phone with you at all times. 

If you see something or someone iffy, do your best avoid it. Sometimes there are creepy people in the woods, and sometimes they do creepy things. Don’t get involved.

Make sure you’re not trespassing on private property. All of the creeks I hike on are on public land. If you’re in a state park or other protected environmental area, don’t go off the trail--you could cause damage to a fragile ecosystem.

Following the creek is a good way to get out and back without losing your way.  Don’t stray too far from it if you’re in unfamiliar territory.

The best times of year to go hunting--assuming Northern Hemisphere, a temperate climate and deciduous forests around the creek--are the spring and summer. In the autumn, you’ll have to clear fallen leaves off of the gravel before you can look, and winter is too cold. 

The best time of day is the morning, when the sun angle is lower and is more likely to glint off of shiny rocks.

You’ll have your best luck the day after heavy rain. Rain will swell the stream and shift the stones around, and could uncover new treasures! 

Inspect anything that looks even remotely worthwhile. You’ll find a lot of duds, sure, but that will help train your brain to tune out what you don’t care about finding.

“What Can I Find?”

Exactly what sort of minerals and crystals you’ll find is highly variable. All minerals are not equally distributed across the planet, because many of them require very different conditions to form and the crust composition varies slightly from place to place. However, there are some stones that are pretty common all over the Earth, so no matter where you go hunting, you’re likely to find them.

Of course, for more specific identifications, please consult the internet, a book on mineralogy, or your local rockhounding club. 

Quartz

The chemical formula of quartz is SiO2, or silicon dioxide. Silicon and oxygen are, by mass, the two most abundant elements in Earth’s crust; around 90% of it is composed of silicate minerals like quartz. Ever find a pretty, sparkly, mostly-clear rock on the ground? It was probably quartz. 

Quartz comes in a mind-boggling array of colors, from smoky quartz so dark it’s practically opaque to purple-and-orange ametrine to the brilliant clear of a Herkimer diamond (yup, not actually diamonds) but all of these varieties are still quartz. In my region of North America, clear and smoky quartz seem to be the most plentiful. 

Calcite

Calcite is calcium carbonate, CaCO3. Like quartz, it is made of some of the Earth’s most abundant crustal elements (in this case, calcium and oxygen) and comes in a stunning array of colors. In my creeks, I’ve found calcite in yellow, orange, white, and even blue and red.

The biggest giveaway for rough calcite is its texture. If you pick up a rock and it feels like someone rubbed wax all over it, you’ve probably got yourself a calcite specimen.

Feldspar

Feldspar is one of the most abundant minerals in the crust, alongside quartz. It’s also a silicate, and it frequently finds its way into other minerals, such as granite. 

What sets feldspar apart from the other two minerals I’ve mentioned here is its fracture habit: It naturally fractures along cleavage planes which intersect at 90-degree angles. It doesn’t shatter--it shears. If you find a rock with a smooth face that looks like a polished stone countertop, it’s probably feldspar.

“But Bear, I Want Crystal Points!”

Oh. Yeah.

You can find those too. 

Every one of those pictures is of quartz points that I have found in my area. (In fact, they’re actually all from the same crystal-hunting hike, and represent only about a third of the specimens I found that day!) As you can see, they aren’t all perfect--and I have plenty of others that are, like, three facets and no point--but they’re all beautiful, and some of them really sing, if you know what I mean. 

Conclusion

Finding your own crystals can be pretty simple, when you get down to it. It can be a lot of fun to get down and dirty, and is a great way to get yourself out in nature for a while. And, of course, you can rest assured that your crystals were gathered in a sustainable, respectful, ethical manner--assuming you took care of yourself and the environment while finding them!

Best of luck! --Bear

#witchblr #witch tumblr #witch tips