#Dia de los muertos fic
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Field of Marigolds
Summary: Marc has been having bad dreams and Jake has been depressed. Can Steven find out why? Can he find a solution that won’t leave them all in deeper trouble? Steven asks questions about a culture that they all lost.
Warnings: Some depictions of child abuse/violence and panic attacks.
Word Count: 4714
Word Prompt: Reeds
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Golden. Quiet. Alone.
Marc had many dreams about the field of reeds since returning from Cairo. None of them good. A nightmare of being left alone for all eternity.
He would wake feeling despair as he crawled from the darkness, gasping out Steven’s name. There was always that moment of silence when he waited for Steven to wake up and respond. That moment of pure fear that perhaps this time he would be alone.
Then he would get the tired sounds of Steven mumbling his hello. The relief would wash over him and he would sink back into the bed with a heavy sigh.
When Jake made himself known and started to communicate with them, Marc had started to look back on his life and pick out the times when his memory gaps were most likely occupied by the quiet and over protective alter. Their memories were all still a mess, but some pieces were starting to at least make sense.
On mornings when he woke up in a panic, he would always still reach for Steven. The one that had always been there when he needed comfort, but sometimes he would wait to see if Jake might reach back too.
Fall had settled in and items of warmth and comfort were starting to make themselves more prominent in their flat. Steven insisted on filling his closet with oversized sweaters covered in patterns and colors that made Marc gag. Jake had switched out his lighter coat and gloves for something more solid and sustaining while Marc kept his usual attire, choosing to brave the cold and rain as he did everything else: Ignore it.
They were getting used to one another. Arguments about what to wear or how to style their hair cropped up but usually were quickly settled. Sometimes they argued over food or what to drink. In the span of a few months they had only had a couple of full melt downs where Layla had been forced to step in and break things up before someone did something stupid.
As fall carried on, Marc had noticed Jake becoming more agitated. He was quiet and clipped when spoken to. He shut them off when he fronted and sometimes Marc or Steven would front to find themselves in the middle of a park or somewhere random in the rain when Jake had decided he was done.
“What the hell is seasonal affective disorder?” Marc huffed as he pulled off the gloves and shoved them into his pockets. It was the second time in so many days where he had come to the front in the city. He had found himself staring in at a bakery window with brightly colored rolls with swirls and lines on the top.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” Steven chimed in from the window reflection. “The sun starts to go away and you get depressed. Maybe he needs more vitamins or one of those special sun lights?”
“I doubt very much that Jake is affected by the lack of sun. The man works the nightshift for crying out loud.” Marc adjusted the cap and wished he were wearing his cubs hat. It had a better brim for keeping the rain out of his face.
Steven shrugged and glanced inside the bakery, trying to figure out what had made Jake decide to run. “Wouldn’t mind a sweet myself, since we’re here.”
“Not sure it’s vegan, buddy.” Marc checked his pockets for his wallet and keys. It was always so jarring to be left out in the cold by Jake. He never knew what he had on him or if he was supposed to go find the car or not.
“Maybe Layla would like a sweet.” Steven smiled. “Those look real good. And colorful!”
Marc sighed and went inside. Steven knew how to get Marc to do things he would normally scoff at. Steven loved grand gestures and buying Layla silly things that made her smile.
Marc paused in the doorway and looked around. It was a foreign shop, which wasn’t odd to see in London. Marc shrugged, though he suddenly felt himself on guard. There was something about the place that twinged at the back of his mind. Some memory that felt fuzzy and not quite his own floated just out of reach.
“Hola, Señor.” The shopkeep smiled brightly. A pot of bright orange flowers sat next to the register.
Suddenly Marc was swimming as he felt himself become untethered. Steven blinked hard as he was slammed into the driver’s seat. A sensation he had not felt in a long time as he waited for the world to stop spinning.
“M’alight.” Steven mumbled as he struggled to figure out what had happened. “Right. Uh… Hi. Sorry. Off day.” He nodded hello to the shop keep and smiled uncertainly. “I was hoping to get a few of those.” He pointed to the colorful rolls. “They are so pretty.”
“Pan dulce.” The man smiled. “Sweet bread. Those ones are called conchas in some places because they look like seashells. Very popular for children and pretty ladies.” He winked.
Steven nodded and picked out a couple in different colors. He hesitated as he saw an oddly shaped bread in the next display over. “What are those? They smell so nice! Zesty like oranges.”
“Ah, pan de muertos. A seasonal bread for this time of year.” The man nodded.
Steven looked up in surprise. “Muertos?”
“Yes.” The man smiled. “For day of the dead. A little something to honor our loved ones who are gone.”
“Oh…” Steven stared at the bread for a moment then shook his head. “Just the sweet breads, please.”
He checked out, looking down at the pretty orange flowers curiously as he handed over the cash. “Marigolds? Right? The flowers I mean. Those are marigolds? They don’t grow so well over here. They do best in the sun.”
It was difficult for Steven not to immediately info dump. He wanted to start up on Indian culture that used marigolds as a way to celebrate and worship. They were a symbol of brightness and the sun, placed around gods and goddesses and laid out in weddings and festive occasions. He was not as versed in this culture or mythology as he was Egyptology, so he made a mental note to freshen up a bit on it.
“Yes. From Mexico actually.” The shopkeeper looked sad. “I do miss them. My mother had a talent for growing them. She sold them to families this time of year. Gave them for free if they were mourning a child.”
“Oh…” Steven flushed. “That’s very kind of her…” He had gone for the happy use and completely overlooked the Latin American use. Strange how it had not come to his mind at all. Even stranger, how he had never thought to look any of that culture up.
Steven nodded and collected his bread. “Thank you.”
Leaving the shop he started the walk home. It took him a moment to gather what street he was on. Jake tended to wander into strange areas when out, while Steven liked to stay on the beaten path.
“Marc?” Steven quietly poked around. “You alright? We’re out of the shop now. Did you need a minute?”
He felt a rustle at the back of his mind and knew Marc was close enough to hear him but still unwilling to come out.
“Marc, are we Latin American?” Steven flushed at how odd the question sounded. “I mean, I’m English. But I suppose that’s all in my head, innit? I wasn’t born over here. My parents weren’t English. I’m Jewish. I know that. I remember school and prayer and temple and Dad a bit. Those memories are mine. I’ve at least managed to sort those out. But…”
Steven paused as he waited at a crosswalk with some other people. He liked to speak out loud. He loved the feel of using his own mouth and voice when speaking to Marc. It felt real if he spoke. It felt like he was a real person and not some voice floating in the void. He also understood what speaking out loud looked like to other people and often embarrassed himself. He was trying to get better at this part.
He thought about his question again as he crossed the street. How else was he to put it? “The body is Latin American.”
There was silence for a moment then Marc sighed and gave the smallest of shrugs. “Yeah. Really we’re from Chicago. You know that. The body is Chicago-ian.”
Steven frowned and felt a memory stirr. From the fuzzy detail, he knew it wasn’t his. As soon as it started it stopped, pushed back and shut off as Marc fell silent again.
Steven sensed Marc wanted him to drop it but a new curiosity had awakened inside him. This was something he didn’t yet know or understand. “Marigolds…” Steven looked up at the cross street names and took a hard turn as he made way for his favorite bookstore.
–
Golden.
So golden it warmed the very air. This time, it did not grow up around him, but spread out at his feet as if guiding him. Petals rolling gently past him and spreading out as if inviting him down a path.
He was not alone this time. Jake stood before him. He spoke softly, his voice carrying on a breeze that Marc could not feel.
“What?” Marc frowned as he only heard a garble of sounds he didn’t recognize. “I don’t understand.”
Jake spoke louder, faster. The sounds moved past him, unobtainable no matter how he reached for them.”
The wind picked up and a language he had long forgotten slammed into him. “I don’t understand.”
Jake held out a hand, pleading at first then growing angry as the Spanish turned accusatory.
“I don’t understand!” Marc yelled. He covered his ears. It was too golden here. Too warm. The flowers were glowing and blinding him.
Something moved in the flowers behind him. Turning, he found a familiar boy. The boy smiled. “Hermano.” It started to rain. “Te recuerdo.”
Marc jolted awake so hard that he shoved Layla and fell off the bed.
He lay on the floor, staring up at the window across the room, watching the London rain pitter patter down the glass.
“Marc? What the hell?” Layla mumbled sleepily. “Are you okay?”
Was he okay? He couldn’t remember the last time he had been terrified of the rain.
Something inside him clenched down in fear and he covered his ears to block out the sound.
He heard Layla shift on the bed and felt her presence as she leaned over the edge of the bed to look down at him. “Hey? You alright?”
His mouth moved on its own. “Perdí a alguien.”
Layla blinked. “What? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
Marc shook his head and closed his eyes. “Stop it. Stop. I don’t want to hear it! I don’t speak fucking Spanish!”
Marc could hear the sound of the rain flowing down the gutter and into the street. Washing everything away. Flooding the field of flowers.
His eyes rolled back as he was overwhelmed. A groggy Steven blinked awake and stared up at Layla. “Hmnh? What are you doing up there? Wait… What am I doing down here? What’s going on?”
Layla sighed and reached out to help pull him back up into the bed. “I have no idea. I think someone had a bad dream? I’m not sure who. There was Spanish and then Marc had a panic attack for about a second before you got here.” She gave an apologetic smile. “It happened really fast.”
“Spanish?” Steven snuggled into her and buried his face in his pillow. “What Spanish?”
“Pretty Alyen?”
Steven turned his head in his pillow just enough to look at her with one eye.
She flushed and looked away. “English is not my first language! I speak three other languages and Spanish is not one of them!”
Steven groaned and buried his face back into the pillow. “I think Jake is upset about something. It’s upsetting Marc too, but I don’t think Marc understands why or what it is.”
“And you don’t know what any of it could be?” She moved to gently stroke his back.
Steven shook his head into the pillow. “Wish I did. Whatever it is, it’s between them. I have no memory of any of that. Being English and all…”
He could hear her chewing her lower lip. It was something she did when unsure about something or thinking about something she wasn’t sure she wanted to bring up.
He had to hand it to her, since coming back to London and staying with them, she had asked very few questions. Maybe she was worried she would ask the wrong ones. She had certainly learned a lot and taken in a lot in the span of a very short time. Especially with Jake entering the picture.
Steven looked back at her and moved to take a hand, holding it gently to his chest. “Love, just ask. It’s okay to ask. I promise I won’t be mad. None of us will be mad if you ask.”
“Why does Jake speak spanish?” She looked at him curiously. “I’ve never heard Marc speak Spanish. You certainly don’t. You know more French than Spanish from what I can gather. He must have picked it up from somewhere. You can’t just form as a person knowing a language. You have to be around it.”
Steven lay there for a moment thinking about the question. He reached out, trying to see if Marc or Jake were near the surface. When he found both buried deep inside, he sighed.
“Mom was Latin American. I don’t know from where or how many generations back. She spoke Spanish sometimes. Mostly on the phone to relatives. I think we must have met them at some point. I have no memories of this. I didn’t know I was… The body was… Hispanic, too.” He had gone through a complicated day of emotions when he had learned all this. Marc had refused to talk about any of it so he had been forced to coerce it out of Jake, which had taken him hours to get just this much. Jake had finally shared the memory of listening to her talk on the phone in rapid fire Spanish.
Between the three of them, Steven still didn’t fully understand. He would have to do more research into it later. The hard part was that he wasn’t sure he wanted to do the research. It had been kept from him for a reason. It wasn’t part of his own backstory or memories.
“I’m a fictive.” Steven didn’t like thinking about it. “My memories are… If it doesn’t fit my story to make me then I don’t have them.” He pulled the pillow down and hugged it for a moment, finding comfort in the weight and feel of it.
“Hey.” Layla moved closer and hugged him. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
“But I want to know.” Steven frowned. “I want to know why they are so upset. I want to help them.”
Layla was quiet a moment. “Sometimes I worry I will forget my own language.”
Steven looked at her in surprise.
“When I left Egypt I didn’t speak Arabic for over a year. Not even once. Not even when I was alone with myself.” She gently stroked his arm, tracing the familiar muscles and lines she found there. “When we went back I stumbled on my words. I spoke slower. It took me almost an hour before I got back into my normal rhythm. It was scary. I felt like I was losing a part of myself. Like I had let my heritage down. Like I was letting my father down. Like I was forgetting him.”
Steven fidgeted with the pillow, trying to hide his distress. “You should never feel that way. He was so proud of you!”
“I know.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “It came back to me. It just… For that hour I looked at myself and didn’t know who I was.”
“Do you think Marc forgot? Do you think he used to know Spanish?” Steven blinked. “Is that where Jake comes from? But why? Why would he take it all? Why does he hold onto it so hard when it comes from such a place of hurt?”
Layla shrugged. “Jake is complicated. So is Marc. I don’t understand what goes on between them. Something is upsetting one of them and the other isn’t exactly helping.”
Steven nodded then remembered the flowers. “What’s today?”
Layla reached across him to grab her phone from the side table. “October 31st. Happy Halloween I suppose.”
Steven made a face. “I hate scary things. I’m the worst fictive ever.”
Layla laughed and kissed him on the forehead. “You are fearless where it matters.”
He smiled a little. “Thank you, love.”
He squeezed the pillow then moved to nestle into her side. “I have an idea. I don’t think they’re going to like it. It might be a terrible idea, honestly. There’s a good chance it could backfire and well… If you thought Chernobyl was a meltdown disaster…”
“You’re saying you want me as support just in case I need to intervene?” She looked at him curiously.
Steven nodded. “If I upset Marc that much and then I also upset Jake, I might be flying solo for a day or two. They might never speak to me again!” He suddenly looked scared. “Maybe I shouldn’t. I don’t think I can handle that. I hate when they cut me out.”
“Steven, do what you think is best to help them, but don’t worry so much. They love you and would never shut you out forever. I trust you to take care of them.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around him.
He nodded and yawned. “What time is it?”
“Three.” Layla sighed. “Marc always has his nightmares at this hour. It’s like he knows that this is the perfect hour to ruin a perfectly good sleep schedule.”
“In the morning, I need to run to the store and pick up a few items. Then I need to do some more research.” This was going to take him all day, but he hoped it was worth it.
–
The house smelled like warm bread and oranges. Steven had returned to the bakery and purchased some pan de muerto. He had also found a small toy in a shop that he couldn’t pass up.
Sliding out a table, he placed a newly purchased children’s blanket over it then set out a plate of the bread. A cup of orange juice was set next to it. Something he thought might compliment the orange zest of the bread nicely.
A small tea candle was lit and he placed the toy to the side, a little astronaut waving nicely.
He had printed out a baseball pennant for the Chicago Cubs and carefully cut it out, taping it to the wall above the table.
Lastly, he set a couple of marigold flowers on the table. He had explained the situation to the man at the bread shop and he had practically thrust the whole pot of flowers at Steven. Steven had politely declined but had asked for just a couple of clippings.
Stepping back, he sighed. “It looks pitiful.”
Layla shook her head. “I think it looks lovely, Steven. Go ahead. See if they are ready.”
Steven nudged around. Of course he found Marc first, easily pulling him out of his deep sleep.
“What’s going on? What time is it?” Marc looked from Layla to the table. “What is this?”
“It’s midnight. Steven wanted to try something. Don’t be mad at him.” She gave him a stern look. “He worked hard at this.
Marc frowned and moved closer. A memory tugged, but it wasn’t his. Refused to be his. He pushed back from it and crossed his arms. “Why would he bother? Waste of time.” He moved as if to blow out the candle then stopped when he saw the little waving astronaut.
His hand lifted in a returned wave.
“Abuelita had one of these.” He gestured at the table dismissively. “Bigger. Better looking too. More flowers.” Marc crossed his arms and looked away. “We had to pay respects every year. It was Importante. Mom wouldn’t put one up.” He struggled to get the words out, fighting against the desire to shut down. “I asked dad… If I could. I wanted to… She threw the flowers…” His breathing started to grow erratic.
His breathing stilled in an instant as Jake blinked in, looking around for a moment to take in the table.
He picked up a flower and slowly spun it between his fingers, watching the petals rotate. He mumbled something in Spanish then set the flower back down gingerly.
“Are you okay?” Layla asked softly.
Jake inhaled deeply then slowly exhaled. “Yes. I think so.”
“Is Marc okay?” She was always hesitant to ask.
Jake took a moment. “Yeah. We always wanted an Ofrenda. Abuelita’s was so beautiful. The candles and the flowers… We loved the stories she told as she lit each candle for each person. When Randall died, we tried to set up our own. We thought he deserved to be with all the pretty lights and flowers.”
Layla was quiet as Jake shifted on his feet slightly. He had a way of speaking of their bad memories like a casual observer. She knew he was far from partial to it all. There was always barely simmering rage just under the surface of them, waiting to smother out the pain that threatened to rise up.
He put his hands in his pockets for a moment, remembering what Marc could not. The screams. The rage. The overturned table. The flower pot crashing into his head as it flew across the room. The bloody gash that needed stitches. The lies at the doctors office that he had told. It was not the first time Jake had taken over to protect them, but it was the first memory that he had closed off as his own.
“We never had one again. Marc stopped speaking Spanish after that. Refused to do anything from her side of the family. I don’t blame him.” Jake shrugged and picked up the small astronaut, looking it over. He then looked up at the baseball banner and single candle.
Realization hit him and he dropped the toy. “It’s not for him…” Jake breathed out. “It’s for us.”
Steven slowly surfaced. “We died, didn’t we? We lost everything when we were so young. Don’t you think that we deserve to be remembered too? When we were one? One heart struggling to survive?”
“Yeah… We did die.” Marc bent and picked up the toy, holding it tightly.
“I read that an important part of today is to not just have pictures, but to tell stories. To talk about your memories and be happy for them.” Steven gave a small smile. “I don’t think I remember anything real. I just remember our room. Kinda like this.” He set the spaceman back down and lightly traced a finger on the Cubs banner. “I liked the colors. I don’t think I knew what they were for, but I liked the triangular shape and colors.”
Jake smiled and realized the blanket on the ofrenda was a kid’s race car blanket. “We had a race car bed. We used to roll over and kick the side every night, but we refused to admit we needed a bigger bed. We colored a paper plate like a steering wheel and kept it under the pillow.”
Marc nodded. “Yeah. There was a telescope. Thought we could be an explorer out there or something. Weren’t any good at remembering the names of the constellations, but we could find them.”
“I remember that.” Steven smiled. “We found the Little Dipper every night.”
“You know, we used to hate milk.” Marc made a face. “Or was that just me?”
“Milk is right disgusting.” Steven made the same face.
“You two are idiotas. Milk is wonderful! Prefer it in my coffee to creamer.” Jake huffed. “Do you remember the little candies Abuelita used to give us?”
“Red hots.” Marc groaned. “Basically candy coated cinnamon pain.”
“I keep a pack of them in my car.” Jake grinned.
“I have a memory of getting into a jar of jalapenos once.” Steven shuddered. “Was that real?”
“Oh god.” Marc chuckled. “Her homemade pickled Jalapenos. She hid them up on the top of the cabinet. DId we really eat half the jar?”
“We ate the whole jar. We puked.” Jake nodded.
Steven cringed. “Is that why I can’t look at a pickled jalapeno without gagging?”
“I’d do it again.” Jake smiled smugly. “Those were the best damn jalapenos I ever had.”
They laughed softly and watched the candle flicker for a moment, remembering hazy moments that weren’t quite clear to them. Piecing together moments that some only had bits to and correcting memories that were almost forgotten.
Marc turned to Layla after a moment. “Would you mind… Find us another candle?”
She blinked in surprise and moved to get one from the kitchen. “Who is this one for?”
“Randall.” Marc set it down next to the first one and carefully lit it. “I don’t have any pictures, but I think it’s time he was properly honored.”
“We never got to attend his funeral or Shiva.” Jake whispered. “She made sure of that.”
“Yeah.” Marc sighed. “I don’t know how much of him you remember… But I’d like to share…”
“I didn’t even know I had one.” Steven looked down sadly.
“I have some images…” Jake shook his head. “Not really connected with good things.” Memories that were locked away so completely that he made sure none of them had access to them.
“Let’s fix that.” Marc moved to sit down and beckoned Layla over. Once they were all settled, Marc took a slow breath.
“I had a younger brother named Randall. He was a pain. Always taking my toys and wanting to color. But any time I wanted to play pretend, he was right there with me.” Marc took Layla’s hand and held it tightly.
They talked for hours and ate the bread together, telling stories of what he could remember of his younger brother and growing up with him. It was the most Marc had ever let himself remember before. There were a surprising number of good memories.
Now and then, Jake would add in a detail Marc had missed. Something small that made the memory more real. Steven had even added in a detail he was surprised to remember, though he lacked the context.
By the end, they were exhausted, curling up on the couch with Layla and fading in and out of sleep.
“Thank you for sharing.” She whispered and kissed his forehead. “You should get some rest.”
“I know it isn’t really your culture or anything…” Steven nervously looked up at her. “The holiday does last all day and ends on the second… If you wanted to… You could tell us about your father. Marc says it’s okay if you share. Jake says it’s okay to put his photo up if you like.”
Layla thought about it for a moment then nodded. “It’s about honoring family, isn’t it? I think I would like that… Adding my memories to yours…”
Steven smiled and closed his eyes. “A path of Marigolds to lead us to the field of reeds. I think it would be lovely if we could all be there together next time…”
Marc dreamed. Gold and orange mixing in the silence. He wasn’t alone this time. The silence was broken by the sound of Jake humming softly, playing a guitar somewhere in the reeds. Next to him Steven looked around with wide eyes as he took in the colorful sky. He was buzzing and babbling about the history of the reeds.
Marc breathed a sigh of relief. He hated the silence. Smiling, he sat back and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of family.
#Moon Knight#Moon Knight fic#Marc Spector#Steven Grant#Jake Lockley#Layla El Faouly#MoonKnightober2022#MKtober2022#Prompt word reeds#Dia de los muertos fic#I used to steal jalapenos from my abuelia#Ate the whole jar#She was not a small woman and laughed when we called her Abuelita cause she was six foot one#THIS IS THE LAST OF THE OCTOBER CHALLANGE#Didn't finish it but I planned to end on this one from the start so here we are#ta-dah
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Wednesday (TV 2022)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair
Characters: Wednesday Addams, Enid Sinclair, Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams, Lurch (Addams Family), Thing (Addams Family), Pugsley Addams, Cousin Itt (Addams Family)
Additional Tags: Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, Holiday with the family, coming up with the way the Addams would make dia de los muertos their onw was so much fun, Arachnophobia warning, also rats if you don't like that, Sharing a Room, Family Dinner, Hurt/Comfort, Dancing together, Holiday Traditions, spending time with the family, Fluff
Summary:
Wednesday invites Enid over to her house for Dia de los Muertos. It promises to be a horribly fantastic day.
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In Memory of Mom
Danny meets a strange, Spanish-speaking ghost wandering around Casper High. His Spanish isn't great, but he's pretty sure she's looking for her daughter.
For the Prompt: Danny encounters a strange spanish-only speaking ghost looking for Paulina Sanchez. Being a first year Spanish student, he only recognizes the words "mi hija" and hesitantly leads her to Paulina. It's Día de los Muertos, but because Paulina has been trying to fit in at school, and her papa remarried and doesn't want to make his new wife uncomfortable, they've fallen out of the habit of setting up the ofrenda and marigolds, leaving their mom/wife unable to find her way home. Paulina can't see or hear her, but Phantom can [From @dreamwraith]
Disclaimer: I am white, and I do not speak Spanish. It is with deepest regret that I must admit to using Google translate for the Spanish dialogue in this fic. If you notice any errors in the Spanish, or regarding Día de Muertos (which there might very well be, though I did do my research), please feel free to correct me. I can only do my best, and always appreciate the opportunity to do better.
Read also on AO3
[Warnings for past character death, and mentions of culture death]
Danny typically liked to have more than one day to recover after fighting Fright Knight every Halloween. Not to mention the numerous other ghosts who always had to come out on that stupid holiday to cause as much trouble as possible during the period of time when the barrier between the human world and the Ghost Zone was at it's thinnest.
Of course, Danny never got more than one day, but he would have liked to.
Luckily the ghost that showed during lunch period on November second didn't seem to be causing any trouble. In fact, it didn't seem like she was powerful enough to cause trouble, even if she wanted to. No one besides Danny even seemed to notice her, which at least meant she wouldn't be able to cause any serious damage, even if she tried.
She was speaking Spanish as she walked through the halls of Casper High, and turning her head this way and that as if she was looking for something, or someone.
"¿La has visto? ¿Mi hija? ¿Dónde está mi hija? ¿La has visto?" she called out.
Now, Danny was only a first year Spanish student, and furthermore... he missed a lot of classes, so he wasn't sure exactly what she was saying, but he did recognize the words 'mi hija', 'my daughter'. The last time he'd been to Spanish class, Señora Gutierrez had been teaching family terms. Madre, padre, hermana, hermano, hija, hijo, tío, abuela, that kind of thing.
Subtly, he followed her until she walked into a hallway where there weren't any people, and then, with no one to look at him like he was crazy for talking to the air, he spoke to her.
"Excuse me, are you looking for your daughter?" Danny asked.
"¡sí mi hija!" the woman replied excitedly. "¿La conoces? ¿La has visto?"
Danny knew 'sí', that was 'yes', the most basic of basic Spanish. 'sí' and... and... okay, so Danny couldn't remember what 'no' was in Spanish, but he remembered 'sí'. Ancients, he was really gonna have to start showing up to that class more if he wanted to get the foreign language credits he needed to graduate.
"Uh... tu hija," Danny said, completely confident that he was already screwing up the grammar, "¿que es la nombre?"
"No es muy fluido en español, ¿verdad?" The ghost laughed. "Su nombre es Paulina."
"Paulina?" Danny didn't understand any of the rest of what she said, so he focused on the last bit. "Paulina Sanchez?"
"¡Sí!" she confirmed, enthusiastically. "Mi hija. Paulina Sánchez. ¿Tu la conoce?"
Danny nodded, although he'd kinda fallen off the sentence after 'sí'. "Why are you looking for her?"
"Es el Dia de Muertos," she said. "Quiero verla, pero no encuentro la ofrenda."
Danny had no idea to respond to that. The only word he recognized from all of that was 'la', but he couldn't glean a whole sentence from a single 'the', so he just looked at her with an expression that was half a forced, awkward smile and half a grimace.
"Ummmm..."
Was it safe to lead an unknown ghost to an unsuspecting human? Objectively no. Most especially not when the unsuspecting human was the girl Danny had a massive crush on. But... on the other hand, this particular ghost seemed pretty harmless, and she said she was Paulina's mother. So... maybe it was okay?
"How about I'll take you to her," Danny suggested.
The ghost that claimed to be Paulina's mother nodded excitedly and said something else in Spanish that Danny had no hope of translating.
Danny led her to the outdoor table where the A-listers always sat, but Paulina wasn't there. After a little bit of prowling the quad, he found her, at an out of the way table no one ever sat at because the the school custodian always ignored it and it was disgusting.
Paulina had laid her jacket over the bench to sit on, and unfolded a few paper napkins over the surface of the table. She had a handful of sugar cubes, and was poking one with a toothpick for some reason. She hadn't noticed him yet.
As much as he would have liked to go over to her as Danny Fenton and be the hero who let her talk to her mom again, he figured it would probably be suspicious if people knew he could see ghosts others couldn't. A but reluctantly, he looked around to make sure no one could see and transformed into Danny Phantom. The ghost, Paulina's mom, applauded him, like he'd just done a magic trick. To her, it might have seemed that way.
"Thanks," he said, a little sarcastically, and floated over to talk to Paulina.
"Excuse me, Paulina Sanchez?" Danny asked, as if he wasn't sure whether he knew her name or not. "There's a ghost here who wants to speak to you."
Paulina looked up and looked around, then turned back to Danny and raised a perfect eyebrow. She put down the sugar cube she was poking at, and Danny noticed that on her other side, there were two other sugar cubes sculpted into the shape of a skull.
"You mean you?" she asked. "Look, normally, I'd be thrilled, but today isn't really—"
"Oh, no, not me," Danny said. "She has long hair, wearing a nice knee-length dress.... It's kinda hard to describe ghosts in a way that makes them recognizable to people who knew them in life, 'cause colors tend to be different between life-and-death but uh... you and her have the same nose, actually. She says your her daughter? I don't speak Spanish, but I managed to figure out that much."
When he stopped talking, Pauling gave him a flat look.
"Are you messing with me?"
"No," Danny insisted. "She's not a very powerful ghost, so she can't stay in the visible range, but she's here. She wants to talk to you."
"Mamá?" Paulina asked hesitantly. "¿Estás aquí?"
"Sí, hija mía, estoy aquí," Mrs. Sanchez replied. "Estoy muy feliz de verte de nuevo."
Paulina didn't respond for a long moment, apparently waiting. Then, finally, she said, "I don't hear anything."
"I was worried you might say that," Danny said. "I'm gonna have to speak Spanish if you guys want to talk to each other, aren't I?" he sighed deeply. "Alright fine. Apologies in advance because I am gonna absolutely butcher the pronunciations."
"Hija," Mrs. Sanchez said, "volví a verte, pero no había camino para mí. ¿Por qué?"
Danny repeated the words to the best of his ability.
Paulina took a moment to parse them out, with a puzzled expression before finally saying, "Papá se volvió a casar. Su nueva esposa es gringa, así que no le hicimos un ofrenda en casa para que no se sintiera incómoda."
Danny didn't know what any of that meant, obviously, and was grateful he only had to repeat after Paulina's mom, because Paulina herself spoke Spanish very quickly and there was absolutely no way he wouldn't trip over his tongue mimicking her.
"Pero estoy aquí, debe haber una ofrenda."
Danny mimicked her again.
Paulina looked a little embarrassed. "Sí... yo... hice uno en mi casillero para ti. No quería que no pudieras cruzar."
Her mother gasped. Danny really wished he knew what was going on.
"¿Me mostrarás?"
Paulina's expression lit up when Danny repeated that, and she stood, gathering up her jacket and her sugar cubes.
"Vamos," she said. "I mean, follow me."
She led the way through the empty halls and Danny and her mom followed.
"What were you guys talking about?" Danny asked, then immediately realized what he was asking and quickly backtracked. "I mean, never mind, it's probably personal. I was just curious. You don't have to answer that."
"No, it's okay," Paulina said. "See, my mom passed when I was seven, and every year, me and my dad set up an ofrenda for Day of the Dead with her picture so she could visit us. We moved here from Mexico when I was ten, but we kept up the tradition.
"Last winter, though, Dad married my step-mom, and she's white, and doesn't know anything about Mexican traditions or holidays. Dad doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, so ever since they got married, we stopped celebrating most of what we used to back in Mexico, so we didn't put up an ofrenda this year, and Mom was asking why she couldn't find it, so I explained."
"Oh... that's... kinda sad," Danny said. "You just had to give up all your culture because your dad remarried?"
Paulina shrugged. "We had to give up a lot of it already, when we moved to America anyway," she said, as if that made it less sad and not more. "At least Sandra's nice, she's just... a little out of her depth sometimes."
"So... where are you taking us?"
Finally, she stopped in front of her locker and turned the dial with her combination.
"I didn't want mom to not be able to visit me, so... I sort of made my own ofrenda in my locker," Paulina explained sheepishly.
The door swung open to reveal the inside. There was a small magnetic shelf stuck on the back of the locker. On it, there was a small electric candle, some kind of orange flower, a pair of black lace gloves, and a heart-shaped locket. The locket was open and propped up so the picture inside was visible. It was the ghost Danny was trying to help.
Paulina reached in an put a few of the sculpted sugar cubes on the shelf next to the locket. The tiny sugar skulls were perfectly to scale with the tiny picture, but absolutely dwarfed by the flower.
The ghost put her hands to her heart and looked absolutely touched by the tiny display.
"Those were her favorite gloves," Paulina explained. "She always wore them when Dad took her dancing."
"What's the flower?" Danny asked.
"It's a marigold," she replied. "Cempasúchil, in Spanish. They're a traditional decoration for the ofrenda. You're also supposed to leave a trail of their petals from the grave to the ofrenda, but... Mom's grave is in Mexico, and the ofrenda is in my locker so...."
"Ay, esto es hermoso," the ghost said. "Gracias. Amo mucho esto. Te quiero mi hija."
Danny had been to distracted to properly listen, so he wasn't sure how to repeat her words.
"Uh... she says she likes it."
The ghost gave him a look and a light slap that passed right through him.
"A lot, she likes it a lot."
"¡Y te amo!" she added insistently.
"Y te amo, she says," Danny repeated.
"Thank you, Phantom," Paulina said. She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "This means a lot to me."
Danny knew his cheeks were turning bright green, and he cleared his throat awkwardly to make sure his voice wouldn't crack.
"Uh, yeah, no problem," he said. "Don't mention it."
It was then that the bell rang signalling the end of lunch, and Paulina grabbed a couple of books from her locker and headed to class. Her mom followed, even though Paulina couldn't see her.
Danny had to get to class, too. He had Spanish class after lunch, and Ancients knew he didn't need to be missing any more of those.
In class, Señora Gutierrez talked about Dia de los Muertos, and for once, Danny actually sort of knew what she was talking about, thanks to Paulina. Maybe he should ask her to tutor him.
#dp#danny phantom#danny fenton#paulina sanchez#paulina sanchez's mom#dia de los muertos#fic#things i wrote#phic phight#phic phight 24#spanish
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watching the vod of tallulah and luzu head in hands we were so robbed of qluzu dad content. hes so cute taking care of tallulah and giving her all the flowers and all. so fucked up how he never got to meet tilin
#does he even know about tilin i havent watched all his vods#i need to irl timeskip to the next dia de los muertos event right now i need them to meet#im going to write a fic about them it would fix me i think#i miss you every day tilin#qsmp tilin#q luzu#qsmp
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Give me all of the fics of characters celebrating different holidays together I NEED THESE
I crave this kind of fic so much, just ashdahjkhjdsakjdaslkjjads
#my friend is planning a dia de los muertos fic rn and I am just so hjkdskahjskjashdkjasdhj#my shit#fox rambles
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Only If For A Night (i/?)
pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader
summary: In Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), she gets forcefully transported to Westeros and meets her favorite book character, Aemond 'One Eye'. She asks and begs for his help to send her back home after realizing this was a world she did not want to live in. Unknowingly to her, her favorite fictional man had already grown too attached to fully let her go.
warnings for this part: profanity, tea drugging, blood magic, sexism, I think that's it... more dark stuff later. READER IS LATINA !
wc: 4,027
series masterlist
my masterlist
pt2
notes: originally I was gonna have this fic be a one shot but it is sooo long that I decided to split it into three. this is an introduction part, aemond will be on the next (I'm half way done with that part).
She knows she is screwed when Doña Maribel broke the news to her that the last of the cempasuchiles were completely sold out in her shop. Making it five flower shops in the span of an hour that she walked to have fully run out of the bright orange flowers she needed for her ancestral altar that she and her abuela worked tirelessly on for the past few days. (marigolds, grandmother)
She wonders what to do next or perhaps where to go as she plays with the gravel beneath her shoes. Sure, she could walk another mile or so to another flower shop and try her luck there just as Doña Maribel suggested but she finds herself too tired to venture deeper in her small pueblo by herself. (town)
Even the walk back to her abuela’s was not something she looked forward to as of now. This was the time where she wished she had the ability to drive but alas she could not for even the streets of Mexico were more hectic and nerve wracking than back at the states. (grandmother’s)
She sighs in defeat. The cempasuchiles were the last thing on her abuela’s list of things she required for tonight’s first day of Dia de Los Muertos. The bright orange flowers illuminated the path of those who died, back into the land of the living and enjoy the offerings their family’s set up for them. (Day of the Dead)
Maybe for just tonight she could spare them.
She sets her three mercado bags beside her as she sits down on a bench right next to a bus stop that could lead her directly to her abuela’s home. The smell of citrus of the lemon tree above her eases her disappointment and feels that this is the perfect spot to reread one of her favorite books. (shopping)
George R. R. Martin’s, Fire and Blood Vol. 1. She wondered what it was like to reside in a world of dragons (before they were all extinct), dire wolves from the North, red priestesses from Volantis, and mysterious yet powerful witches. To live inside the walls of the Red Keep and tour around the secret passageways and to fight for the rightful Queen of Westeros, Rhaenyra and the other members of the Blacks during the Dance of Dragons.
Sadly, even if it was possible to venture deep into alternate fantasy universes. It all was pure fiction. Not real. Impossible.
‘And so one-eyed Aemond the Kinslayer took up the iron-and-ruby crown of Aegon the Conqueror, “It looks better on me than it ever did on him,” the prince proclaimed.’
“Excuse me, do you happen to know when the bus is due to arrive?” She snaps her head up meeting the most beautiful and enchanting woman she’d ever seen. Eyes round and greener than the trees itself during spring. Hair long and black like ravens in the night sky. She was tall, taller than most of the women here with skin like porcelain that had not seen a day of sun, a rarity here in Mexico.
It was her mischievous tight lipped smile that made her feel loss of words. Unknowingly, this mysterious woman was the first person who spoke to her in English, not Spanish.
“Umm… I- I’m sorry?”
The green eyed woman smirked as if she knew the small effect she had on her. Gods she was beautiful.
“The bus–”
She shook her head out of her revere, coming to reality. “Oh, I’m not sure. Perhaps a few more minutes.” She informed, pulling her mercado bags closer to her side, allowing the green eyed woman to sit, not wanting to be rude.
She murmurs a quick thank you as she sits exceedingly close to her, shoulder to shoulder, flesh to flesh with her. Jeez, talk about personal space! However, the woman doesn’t seem to care or acknowledge that she has enough space for her own person. A feeling of uncertainty rests below her gut, telling her to be vigilant around her presence.
“How long have you waited?” She asks, breaking away the long silence between them. She almost shivers at the intensity hue of her eyes that bore right through her.
“About ten to twelve minutes.” She replies, looking anywhere else but her.
A satisfactory look sketched around the woman's youthful yet elderly face which she found odd. What could be so pleasing about the bus not arriving? The woman said nothing, only sitting rather straight, almost elegant in her simple long green dress. Though, in the back of her mind, she wondered if she felt hot underneath the heaviness of the velvet fabric. She sure as hell did.
“Wait, how did you know I spoke english?” She asked as the hairs on her arms stood up straight in some kind of chilling fear.
The woman’s eyes lowered and centered on the object sitting up on her lap. “Your book gives it away.” She snickered softly, tilting her head reading the bold letters of her very worn book she got at the thrift store for just two dollars. “An interesting read.” The green eyed woman said whilst her face held no sincere fondness of it for someone who found it interesting.
“You’ve read this before?” She asked curiously, little taken back, that she finally found someone else who read Fire and Blood Vol 1. Or anything by George R. R. Martin.
“Yes, almost like I've lived through it”
She opens her mouth to speak but the green eyed woman beats her to it. “I don’t mean to pry but where are you headed?” The smile falls off her face as she remembers the warning of stranger danger she learned as a kid.
The woman must have noticed the dubious look upon her face as she threw her head back in a laugh. “I ask because it seems a storm is coming our way. And it looks like an angry one.”
Sure enough, as she looked up the sky had turned into a deep gray with heavy clouds ready to pour any minute. Well this wasn’t forecasted in the noticias this morning, otherwise, she’d carry an umbrella. Or better yet, she wouldn’t have walked all this way if a storm was brewing. (news)
“My cottage is not very far from here,” the green eyed woman revealed, standing up from the bench, overlooking the seriousness of the clouds. “It is just around the corner. Would you like to come?”
She wanted to say no, that she was better off walking an hour back to her abuela’s house, even if it meant that she’d catch a cold in the pouring rain with blisters all over her feet. Besides, she did not know anything about this woman. Every bit of her mind screamed stranger danger! Don’t go!
But as she glanced between the heavy clouds and the green eyed woman with her hand extended out, all that doubt and worriment went away.
“I don’t even know your name,” she pointed out. If all goes bad, at least she had a name to tell the authorities.
“My name is Alyssandra Riveras.” The green eyed woman smiled, bowing at the waist.
Though still somewhat skeptical, she walks alongside Alyssandra to her cottage. She makes small mental notes in her head, counting the red stop signs, right and left turns and any other landmarks of important significance.
She was almost positive she could point her way back home. It did not help that five minutes into their journey, it started harshly pouring out of nowhere like a bucket of water had been poured all over, blanketing her vision.
Alyssandra’s cottage had sat on the outskirts of the pueblo, isolated from all civilization, hidden around tall and green pine trees. A faint voice in the back of her head screamed to run and never look back. She ignored it.
From a close distance, she was able to distinguish a small window with overgrown vines and branches wrapped around the perimeter of the cottage. Bones, bells, and crystal windchimes hung from the roof and windows, mostly likely put up for some kind of spiritual protection.
She was no stranger to the craft. Although raised catholic, both her mama and abuela had hung an old broom above their doorway to keep away unwanted guests and negative energies as well as pinning the mal de ojo sigil around the walls for the look of evil and envy against their family. (evil eye)
“Cempasuchiles,” she murmured in awe when Alyssandra’s small garden came into view. It was the most of the orange flowers she had ever seen, all bright and lively and huddled together.
“When the storm is over, you can grab as many as you’d like,” Alyssandra offered, peering over her shoulder, unlocking the door to her cottage. She nods following her inside whilst giving a grateful smile.
The interior of the cottage was small, meant only for one person to take residence. The same size as what a studio apartment would be back in the states.
In no way was the inside minimal, in fact it was the opposite. Almost all of the walls were covered with shelves with small trinkets adorning inside such as little statues, crystals, herbs and other supplies.
In the center of the room lay a huge stone like table, old and antique bearing the resemblance of something medieval. And something about it, sent shivers down her spine along with the same faint voice, telling her to run.
She ignored it, again.
“Give me your belongings, and change into this,” Alyssandra says, tossing a strappy white chemise. She exchanges her poor-soaked mercado bags that contained pan de muerto, churros, and tamales for her ancestral ofrenda. (bread of the dead, offering)
She turns around to protect her modesty, seeing as there was no other room to change nor did Alyssandra point her to the bathroom, so she lifts the drenched garment over her head and sheds away the last clothing she had on her body, leaving her completely bare in her birthday suit.
She couldn’t help but to feel Alyssandra’s eyes watching her very intently, examining every inch of her body as if it met her standards or so. She knows she should use her hands to cover up and give Alyssandra a piece of her mind, or better yet introduce her to a knuckle and hand sandwich for the way she was looking too closely.
Yet her body feels frozen, unable to move under the green eyed woman’s gaze.
“Would you like some tea to keep you warm?” Alyssandra asked, moseying to the kitchen.
She blinks, whatever paralyzing feeling she had dispelled away. “Um, yes thank you.” Alyssandra nodded, pulling what looked to be a kettle on the stove. Meanwhile, she slipped on the white chemise in a hurry to not feel as exposed anymore.
She takes the time to analyze the rest of Alyssandra’s cottage as she hears the droplets of rain hit the rooftop harder and the sound metal being filled with water. Various of the same purple flower plants were placed near the entrance, she notes to herself that these couldn’t possibly be lavender but another species or something within the same family.
A small cot laid in the corner close by the hearth, with multiple open ancient books and scrolls spread on top of the bedspread. She almost wants to look through the pages and read Alyssandra’s interests but she doubts she could as she observes the handwriting is unreadable from where she stood.
She walks forward to where the hearth is, feeling slightly warmer as something immediately catches her eye. Above the mantle, hung on the wall was a medium sized portrait of a small boy, appearing no more than three years old. He stood straight, almost regally with his hands behind his back. His face held no gentleness or warmth like a child should have.
Gods forgive her, but the child looked cruel like the gueritos who bullied her in elementary school when she was just trying to make new friends. (white boys)
Though, for an evil looking child, he sure was beautiful. The most striking thing about him was his set of eyes. Wide with his left eye a dark violet and his right a dark green similarly to Alyssandra’s. His hair was straight and cut short right below his ears. She looked closer at the portrait, thinking if her eyes deceived her as she noticed the peculiar color of the boy’s hair.
Silver.
Curiosity takes the better of her as she asks, “Is that your son?”
Alyssandra turns, holding two mugs of steaming tea. “Yes, that’s my beautiful little boy,” She places both glasses on the stoned table before she sits adjacent to her. It doesn’t go unnoticed by her the sad look on Alyssandra’s eyes. “He looks like you,” she points out though it’s somewhat of a lie in hopes to lift up Alyssandra’s spirits.
Alyssandra throws her head back in a chortle, “For all my hard work and labor, I had hoped he looked like me but nature loves to play its cruel jokes. He is a replica of his bastard father.” The thought of her son’s father left a sour and disgusting taste in Alyssandra’s mouth.
Alyssandra focused her attention back to her, “What about you?” She asked, sitting rather too straight.
“Do you mean if I have kids? Gods, no.”
Alyssandra smirked, “I take it you don’t like the idea of children. I did not either but after years of solitude, I changed my mind. I had other children before my son, but all of them died before they were due. You, however, are still young. Your mind can still change.”
She shifted in her seat anxiously, sipping the odd taste of the herbal tea Alyssandra provided. It wasn’t like she did not like children. She respected children and found them quite cute with their little tiny hands and feet and infectious laughs. But besides the point of appearance, children were a tremendous amount of responsibility that she found herself not ready for.
Not now. Not ever.
She could barely handle taking care of herself. Much less care and provide for a child for eighteen years or so.
“I don’t—”
“Oh but you will,” Alyssandra fired back without so much as blinking an eye.
She grimaced, knowing where this conversation was heading. And it was about to be a not so pretty one. She glanced at the window by the door, the rain was still heavy if not more.
“I thank you for giving me shelter. But I really must go. I was only just supposed to be out for some groceries and my abuela is probably wondering where I am.” Polite and respectful enough just as her mama taught her.
She grabbed her belongings that were hanging by the fire and stuffed them inside her mercado bag. Her hand was on the cusp of prying the door open when Alyssandra rushed to her side, wrapping her hand around her wrist.
“Wait. Please don’t go.” Alyssandra pleaded, “It’s just that you remind me much about myself. I didn't mean to cause offense, I’m sorry.”
Run. Say no and run now, While you still can…
There it was again that same paralyzing feeling closing in on her feet, preventing her to move. It was strange like a shield gluing both her legs down.
She nodded, murmuring ‘fine’ under her breath as Alyssandra slowly led her back to the woven chair with such gentleness as a porcelain doll. “I still need to call my abuela, so she can know I’m alright.”
Alyssandra twisted her face in a wince, “I’m afraid we’re too far out for any signals to catch a telephone call.” She held back the overweening snicker to herself, it was why Alyssandra chose her cottage to be settled this far out in this very modernized realm; so no one could find her.
Alyssandra wasn’t lying. No matter how hard she hit her Iphone against her palm or moved it around, there had not been a single signal bar glowing. She wondered if her abuela had started to grow worried and perhaps began to search for her. She hoped she didn’t and that her cousins kept her preoccupied with the rest of the decorations to notice the duration of how long she’d been out. She also wondered if they were still going to the cementerio, to clean and decorate the graves of their loved ones but with the amount of thunder and rain, she’d doubt it was still on the agenda. (cemetery)
Alyssandra prepared some more tea as the fire gradually faltered down. This one had a different taste than the previous one with tiny purple petals floating around. Alyssandra watched very intently as she sipped every last drop while she scarcely touched her own mug.
The green eyed woman began asking her multiple personal questions, mostly about where she was originally from (due to the fact that her vocabulary deemed to be more vehement in English than Spanish), her family, and if she had any siblings. She had answered them all. Letting her know that she was just visiting from the states to celebrate Dia de Los Muertos with her family she had not seen since the death of her sweet abuelo. (grandfather)
Alyssandra’s eyes glimmered even more when she explained how strangely, her very stern and overprotective mama had suddenly let her travel by herself to a country she had never been to in years since she was small. Her mama preferred her to be where she could keep a close eye on her because ‘uno nunca sabe’ especially if you’re a woman. (one never knows)
It was odd, alright. Especially when her mama gave her money that she didn’t have, and enthusiastically wished her good fortune on her travels. Yup odd…
But not to Alyssandra.
Alyssandra sat down after cleaning both mugs ready to ask the hard hitting questions she’d been warming her up to. “Have you ever been with a man?” Her eyes widened before breaking rounds of deep laughter that made the sides of her ribs ache and cramp.
However, there wasn’t an ounce of amusement displayed on Alyssandra’s face, but rather annoyance. What was so funny? It was a simple and uncomplicated question that meant no harm. At least not to her. He couldn’t harm her any more here. Alyssandra guessed perhaps it was the side effect of the tea making her humoristic.
“No,” She replied, wiping the humoristic tears at the corner of her eyes. “The opportunity has never presented itself?” Alyssandra asked.
All the humor that previously lingered had gone swiftly away, realizing that Alyssandra was indeed asking something so personal to her. “No,” She shook her head, feeling her face hot and red. “People don’t look at me as someone they want to be with. They’d rather be with someone exciting, adventurous, and outing. And I’m neither of those things. I’m a homebody who’s idea of fun and adventure is living through fictional books.” She answered truthfully, too truthfully.
Alyssandra watched her face transform into a deeper shade of red. “What is it?” She questioned, taking a hold of her hand, taking in the role of someone empathetic.
“I want my first time to be special. Like the fairytales I grew up reading about with the grand Prince sweeping the young maiden off her feet and taking her to his castle…” The way her eyes reflected small flashes of light made Alyssandra almost feel guilty for her true intentions once the repercussions of the tea ran out.
She remembers when she too wished for a dashing knight in shining armor to take her away, far away from the shit she had been through; the pain, the suffering, and the poverty. All of it. As Alyssandra grew well into her womanhood, she realized there was no knight coming to save her. Instead, there was a selfish Prince who spared her for his desires and her many talents beyond the acts of the flesh.
But Alyssandra needed her to go. She needed that piece that was stolen from her. She didn’t want the risk of going back and facing him again and repeating through the hell and agony he put her through. So sending her for it seemed like the better alternative.
“I know you probably think it sounds stupid–” She stammered, her face still beet red.
“I don’t think it sounds stupid,” Alyssandra softly smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze. Judging by the serene look upon her face, it was a good lie that she seemed to believe.
She smiled. Finally, someone who didn’t think of the idea of waiting for the right person was silly and unrealistic.
Her smile deterred, sensing something trickle down her nose, dropping against the skin of her hand.
Blood. Her blood.
Run!
“Alyssandra?” She whispered, puzzled at the sight of more blood spilling out of her nose. Every strand of hair in her arms stood, sensing a new type of alertness course right through her. She glanced at a very blurred Alyssandra with what looked to be a smirk written on her face.
“W-What’s happening?” She stood from the chair, but that soon turned out to be a bad idea as her knees gave out, sending her straight to the stoned cold floor. She glanced up, watching as Alyssandra sauntered in front of her, and as much as she wanted to crawl away her body was glued to the floor.
“Look,” Alyssandra said, crouching down at her level before she took her in her arms like a newborn baby, weighing little to nothing. “We don’t have much time. When you wake up, I need you to retrieve something of mine…”
She felt her back collide on top of the stoned table, “What was in that tea?” She questioned but Alyssandra was quick to shush her. “It doesn’t matter now. You drank it all willingly.” There was no argument there.
Alyssandra pulled out a jar with overflowing cempasuchil petals inside and circled the petals around her. Almost like a ritualistic circle she used to watch the brujas next door do. (witches)
“You need not to be afraid. You will not be harmed as long as you do what I say. Exactly as I say.” She gulped, nodding seeing as she had no other choice. “Bruja.” She spat but Alysssandra only chuckled, “I’ve been called much worse, little dove.” (witch)
Through the corner of her eye, she saw Alyssandra holding out a small knife. “I am in need of a sapphire. It was stolen from me many years ago. It is one of a kind, which is why when you see it you’ll know it is mine.”
She momentarily shut her eyes as the dark haired woman rapidly cut the middle of her palm spewing her blood on top of the petals. “Once you’re successful, you’ll come back here with the sapphire and gather some of my materials. The marigold petals with your blood coating them; The blood of whom you took the sapphire from and lastly you’ll lay on top of my precious table here to be transported back.”
There was an evil smile on her lips that she desperately wanted to punch it off. “And if I don’t get the sapphire?” She questioned.
Alyssandra combed away her unruly braided hair, “Then I won’t bring you back and you’ll be stuck there forever.”
Fuck.
“Stuck? Stuck where? Where am I going?”
Alyssandra clicked her tongue, “A place where fairy tales do not exist, my little dove.” If she wanted a Prince to sweep her off her feet. Alys would gladly give her one.
She attempted to wiggle herself out of this pendeja’s spell but whatever Alyssandra mixed in the tea it was compelling her body to still and her eyes to slowly falter shut in a peaceful sleep. (dumbass)
“However I should warn you, this spell is only valid until tomorrow. Until Dia de Los Muertos is over and even if you do achieve in retrieving the sapphire but it is after November second, you'll be permanently trapped with him.”
general taglist: @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @folksriddle @ficsandsin @nyx-daughterofchaos98 @qweencrimson @slytherized @qyburnsghost @tofujiji @saturnssrings @janeety @thought--bubble @theunburt @mandiiblanche
series taglist: @castellomargot @toodlesxcuddles @itsabby15 @diannnnsss @fan-goddess @zenka69 @a-beaverhausen @gabee-arts @bluebirdbts @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly @absurduty @delulumhaggy @liannafae @aaaaaamond @ilikechocolatemilkh @bellaisasleep @ammo23 @alphard-hydraes-blog
if you'd like to be tagged on my general taglist click here
if you want to be tagged on this series comment here!
#prince aemond#aemond fanfic#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#hotd fanfic#aemond targaryen#dark aemond x reader#dark aemond targaryen
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Abby Anderson head-cannons/ relationship HC’s
An: this is like my modern Hc! Only the cannon in game apocalypse version
Tw: nsfw towards the end
Humble about her title in the WLF
Goes to the gym twice a day, once in the morning once at night plus gas break days once or twice a week
High Proteine girly
Knows Damn well that the gay girls at the WLF thirst over her
COUGH lesbian COUGH
Will keep Alice after hours sometimes just because
It’s literally cannon her and manny have competitions for who do what in the apartment
Is a perfectionist
If your in a relationship she’ll take you to the gym and make you try to lift her weights
Actually really likes to cook
If she wasn’t a solider she would of became a medic like her father
Has a shitty green thumb, can not keep a plant alive if her life depended on it
Speaks Spanish to a small degree bc of manny
Once her and manny had hooked up with the same girl — NOT TOGETHER I meant like Abby hooked up with someone THAT FUCKING SCIENTIST first then manny ended up hooking up with the same woman later on down the line.
Makes the worst jokes ever but ppl laugh bc their to scared to offend her
Street smart not book smart
When fall comes around mannys dad still celebrates dia de los Muertos, being that manny and Abby are close manny invited Abby one year to celebrate with them and they made an ofrenda for Abby’s father
Relationship wise she’s actually really caring
You and Abby met most likely in the WLF, whether it’s from you helping her on an assignment, nursing her to health in the infirmary or her helping you with the animals you two just met at the WLF while helping one another
You of-course had heard of Abby multiple times but you.. this was Abby’s first time meeting or hearing abt you and shit she knew she was heads over heels in the first moment you met
Abby spent months deciding over if you were actually into her or not — one night after you two got drunk together Abby confessed and one thing let to another you two decided to plan a date
Abby freaked out like actually leg shaking anxious breath worried if she would fuck up.
She did, the day of the date she had bailed on you due to being put on an imporant assigment by Isaac
After wards she found you had a small argument with you before finally kissing you
That’s how you two ended up together
(I’m writing a fic abt this btw wait for that coming soon 😈🙏🙏🙏🙏)
She’s the type to find you souvenirs while she’s out patrolling
Will make deals with the gardeners to get you a bouquet of flowers
Every Saturday she kicks manny out and sets up the apartment so you two can have a date, doesn’t matter if your fighting and not on speaking terms you two always have the date Abby makes sure, once you Didn’t show up and Abby actually picked you up- threw you over her shoulder and carried you to the apartment
Most ppl when they write smut for Abby is alays like she’s fucking the ever living daylights out of you and calling you names but personally I don’t think Abby would do that (not that’s there’s anything wrong with those fanfics I eat that shit up everytime)
I think Abby is more of a soft lover. She takes her time and whispers sweet nothings, she’ll tell you how perfect you are and how you were blessed by the goddess of love herself
She can get a little rough though, she’s the type to while nuckles deep into you she’ll praise you for how well your doing
She’s a switch, she loves to make you feel good but also wants to be told how much you love her and her body esp her muscles
Abby’s not submissive though it’s just not her style
Went into an abandoned mall once and found a Spencer’s that’s where she managed to find a strap on
She doesn’t really like to use it since in her opinion it takes away from the experience, she doesn’t really like the fact that you want to get off on something that isn’t her
Would never let you use the strap on her tho lmao
Once Owen had drunkly said something to insult you and Abby decked him right then and there mel and manny made her apologize the next day
Insanely protective of you like I said previously she would deck Owen for just insulting you (I also don’t like Owen bc he sucks for cheating on my babe Mel)
If you two argue which is rare Abby’s stubborn but after a while she’ll force you to talk to her. She’s also gonna make you come to an agreement with her and actually communicate how you feel
GODDAMN ABBYS ASS IS FAT sorry I’m watching the remastered version of tlou2 while writing this 😭
Abby’s heavy on communication like she refuses to let one of you go to bed angry
She swears that your the most beautiful person she’s ever met
Abby will go on rants about her dad and tell you silly stories
Your the most important person to Abby and she makes that very clear— if you do patrols she refuses to let you do dangerous patrols only east already cleared areas or only if your with her so she can protect you
Deep down Abby’s scared to loose you like she lost her dad
Every night before she lets you go back to your apartment to sleep or if your sleeping over Abby will give you soft kisses and tell you how much she loves you before letting you go
That’s its 😝
#lesbian#wlw#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby the last of us#abby tlou#the last of us fanfiction#abby headcanons#abby x reader#tlou
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i just watched coco for the first time in a while and i forgot how happy that movie makes me 🥹💘✨
#deadass#makes me cry#but so happy#at the same time#excuse me while i make a dia de los muertos fic#♛ | archon speaks |
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fic: always to return to me
After Now and Then is released, John comes for a visit.
for this prompt: Now and Then is being released on Dia de los muertos/Day of the Dead...purposely. Paul is hoping John will come back to him. He does, for the day. Angsty yes but bittersweet.
(read on ao3)
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A few Dia de los Muertos radiodust fanart and staticmoth I made in the past. The first two are a cover commission for whitewinds2 (twitter) based on her fic.
I didn’t get a chance to do a new radiodust Day of the Dead theme due to personal reason, but hopefully next time I might.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/34292845/chapters/85322863
#radiodust#staticmoth#alastor#angel dust#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel valentino#valentino#vox#voxval#valvox#alastor x angel dust#angel dust x alastor#Fanart#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanart#digital art#dia de los muertos
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HEY!! i just stumbled on your account and i LOVE how you write!! can i request a fluff story with Valeria Garza COD? with a fem or gender neutral reader where they’re both pretty old, like mid 60s/70s they have grownup kids and little grandkids, they host a big family gathering and the grandkids wanna know how they both met? could you write about them meeting in their younger years? and specifically, how they met? were they rivals? were they childhood friends? was reader just a civilian who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? was reader a damsel in distress? (ofc this takes place after valeria retired from her gang!!)
you don’t have to write it now but i haven’t seen anything like this before, and i find it to be a very cute little concept!
OH BTW!! can reader be taller and older than Valeria? like maybe 2-3years older? and can reader have a flirty personality? also maybe more dominant than Valeria because there are hardly any fics like that, it’s always Val who’s the top and dim, let’s give her a break for once please🙏🏻🙏🏻😭😭💕
AGAIN, THANK YOU IF YOU WRITE THIS!!
I will certainly do my best to do this justice friend! Enjoy!~
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"¡Abuelita!" Your grandkids cried, rushing up to your front door. You couldn't help but smile from the kitchen as you worked on food to place on the ofrenda. You could hear the sound of Valeria greeting them and ushering them inside to start on their makeup for the evening.
"Hola mama," came your oldest child, pecking you on the cheek as they put down the extra things they'd brought for Dia de los Muertos. "The others and I are going to go finish getting set up. Can we leave the kids with you and Mama Val?"
You shoot your child a look as if to say "do you really need to ask?" before they smile and run off. It was weird to think that your babies were all grown up now, having niñas and niños of their own. But you wouldn't have it any other way.
With food prep nearly done, you stepped out of your tiny kitchen to check into where Valeria was prepping your grandkids. "Almost done chica settle down," you hear hear chide as you lean in the doorway. At nearly 64, it was harder to do, but it didn't stop you.
"¡Abuelita!" four of the five young kids exclaim rushing up to you to show their makeup. "Don't I look cool?" "Don't I look so pretty?" they asked, clamoring for your attention.
"Si, mi chiquitos," you chuckle, smiling to your partner. "You all look wonderful. And I'm sure people like Tio Diego will be excited to see you."
You could see the sad smile on Valeria's face at the mention of her old right hand. While it had been a few decades since she had gone by "El Sin Nombre", it wasn't a time too long ago for the both of you. You're pulled from your reminiscing by your littlest grandchild, the one your love was currently working on.
"Did Tio Diego introduce you two abuelita?" she asks in her tiny voice. "Is he why we get two abuelitas?" You think for a moment, wondering if she was old enough to know. A few of your grandkids knew of the past between you and Val. Not the entirety of it, but enough to know your first meeting was anything but ordinary or safe.
"He did," Valeria answers before you can, never stopping her wrinkled hand. She puts the finishing touches on the little girls face smiling at her work. "If it weren't for Tio Diego and your abuelita, I probably wouldn't get to be here doing your makeup." Your lover presses a kiss to the girl's head, helping her down off the bed.
"Yeah everyone know that!" Chimes one of your grandsons. "Mama Y/N was a medic in Las Almas and helped Mama Valeria with her injuries."
"Not here?" Asks the youngest, clearly confused. "Where would she be then?"
"I don't know mija," you tell her, leaning over Valeria now. You can faintly hear her grumble about your height. "But that pretty face of hers would certainly compliment the ofrenda."
You revel in the groans that come from your grandkids and the way your wife hides her blushing face in her hands. From the front door, one of you kids calls for the young ones, and they go rushing out to show off you wife's handiwork. You can't help but smile as you watch them go, your lover standing beside you.
"You left out the part where you flirted with me even as my prisoner amor," Valeria hums as she leans up to press a kiss to your cheek. "And how you're a cradle robber." You gape at her in mock offense.
"It's only three years!"
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Ramon's Birthday!
A Ramon Focused Fic
(With bits of hideduo/fitpac, of course!)
Ramon doesn't have the custom of celebrating his birthdays, perhaps due to how lonely his first ones were. However, today is different. The bright lights and happy laughter bring him a type of childish joy he didn't allow himself to feel for a long, long time.
(Crossposted on AO3, Wattpad and Twitter. English is not my first language, but i hope you all enjoy!)
Ramon remembers his first birthday. It didn't have anything special, as far as he could remember. His first month alive was much of a blur, to be honest. He slept more than he'd have liked to.
Spreen wasn't there. Ramon, at the time, had hopes he would be.
It was a simple day. Just like most of his birthdays.
Now, an entire year later, he's still unaccustomed to the bright lights, balloons, songs, people… it was a dream come true, yet he feared it could change to a nightmare.
He and his two siblings, Dapper and Leonarda, celebrated their birthday on the same day. Chayanne, their brother, was only a day older than the triplets, but decided not to celebrate as… “glamorously” as them, claiming that he didn't need it.
Leonarda asked her dad to build a very nice place for their one year birthday party, and he did not disappoint at all. It is a beautiful place with beautiful towers that no one has no idea how Foolish built in two days.
As a courtesy of Dapper's dad (to be honest, mainly Dapper), the place was guarded by intricate, dangerous and technological security assets. Dapper made sure that nothing would go wrong today.
The decoration, however, was the part that Ramon was the most proud of. He and his family spent so long decorating everything just like his siblings deserved - just like he deserved.
It was full of balloons and pretty lights (which he expected to have, but never expected Fit to be the one to put all of them), beautiful tables with a place for everyone on the island, entertaining songs that Pac (and his rats) chose… Everything was so thought out and Ramon was so proud of his family for doing all of that so well.
He felt especially proud of this decoration, because Pac made sure he wouldn't forget any of the children that would commemorate their birthday today, meaning that the decoration resembled all of the little ones that had already passed, a little altar for each one of them.
Tilin's altar had a few pictures of her, her red bow, drawings, her signature flowers… Pac took the time to talk with all the parents of the eggs that had already passed so he could respect their memories properly.
Trumpet's altar was rainbow colored, it had his little hat, and a few pictures he managed to find with the federation's help. Unfortunately, Maximus had been gone for so long, Pac couldn't decorate it properly since he had no one to consult with his questions. Every part of this decoration was made with Bagi's help, since she spent the Dia de Los Muertos bonding with the little boy. One of the pictures in the altar was one of Trumpet and Leonarda.
Juannaflippa's altar had been the last one to be decorated, since neither Mariana nor Slimecicle had woken up for weeks. Her altar was green-themed, with plenty of pictures of her and her parents, and a few pictures of her and Tilin.
Bobby's altar was the first to be made. Pac gathered all his courage to consult both Cellbit and Roier, unfortunately not being able to ask Jaiden anything since she disappeared. For some strange reason, Cellbit was the one to answer more questions, whilst Roier kept a distance from the topic.
The boy's altar was blue-themed, there were a few drawings that Richarlyson made, his signature gun (don't ask Pac how he got it), a bunch of pictures of him with his parents, with Richarlyson… all of that.
In all of these, there were messages that people put, hoping that the happiness could reach the four that weren't there anymore.
Ramon got distracted looking at the altars. He would be lying if he said he didn't miss those four. They were always making a bit of a mess, that's for sure, but… he'd be happy if he had the opportunity to share a cake with them again.
Speaking of which, we shall not forget one of the most important parts. The cake- actually, the cakes, made by Chayanne himself, were individually created thinking of who it'd belong to.
Leonarda's cake was purple and somehow even shiny! On the sides, there were some silly faces - made of frosting and fondant - that she requested, just like the multiple hats she's always wearing. The three pieces of chocolate on top of it were painted with food coloring, going from light shades of purple to- yellow? There was one, lonely, yellow piece… Ramon wonders why Leo requested such a specific thing.
Dapper's cake was, of course, black. It still seemed delicious, though, just like Leo's, since it was made by Chayanne. The cake looked amazing because it had some little ghosts - also made of fondant -, some decorations of things that Ramon couldn't quite recognize, everything that exhaled his brother's personality. Chayanne really outdid himself this time.
His cake, well… it wasn't any different. He almost cried seeing it? Well, sure. No one needs to know that though.
Ramon's cake was mainly white, but Chayanne managed to make amazing representations of Ramon's interests, such as the multiple create machines (machines that he info dumped about multiple times to Chayanne), his mustache on one of the sides, the meathead, his glasses…. And a little yellow Pac-Man.
Ramon looked at his parents. Pac and Fit were talking to each other on a corner, probably having some silly conversation, as they always do. Ramon smiled. He was so lost in thought, thinking about how proud he was of his family, that he didn't realize someone was approaching.
— Hey, Ramon! Happy Birthday, king. — Ramon got scared when he heard Tubbo talk, not expecting anyone to come talk to him so early.
What he didn't expect though, was Sunny appearing out of thin air and hugging him tightly. He wanted to answer Tubbo, but couldn't as Sunny restrained his hands while hugging him and basically shaking him. Eventually she let go, leaving Ramon dizzy.
— Happy birthday, my mustache boy!!!!!!!! — She spoke while she signed.
— “Thank you, Sunny” — He signed back a bit messily, forgetting how strong his sister was.
— Where should we put the gifts? — Tubbo asks, holding three different gift boxes. Ramon couldn't deny how excited he was for Tubbo and Sunny’s gifts, since they had so many create stuff.
Ramon points to a little table that was slowly filling up with gifts.
Tubbo ruffles Ramon's hair before walking up to the table, placing the three boxes there.
Sunny gives him one last, tight hug before running up to her dad again.
Ramon giggles. He's so happy to have them both here.
He was so excited, too. Everyone he knew was going to be there, for the first time! Sure, maybe it's because it's finally the first one year birthday out of all the eggs, after all this time- after everything they went through, they're still alive. They survived.
This thought could rapidly become darker and sadder, were it not for Leonarda and Dapper showing up out of nowhere to bother Ramon and snap him out of these thoughts.
— “Stop thinking about create, Ramon, you're gonna end up overworking the gears of your brain.” — Ramon found himself looking at the hands of his brother, Dapper. Dapper was wearing, obviously, his signature top hat and little black and blue suit, and alongside him was Leonarda, wearing a dark purple dress and red sneakers, with her red cap backwards, as always. On her cap, though, was a little crown sticker.
— “Así es, tus neuronas se freirán si te quedas ahí. Vamos a hacer algo divertido, ¡es nuestro cumpleaños!” — Leonarda signed. Dapper and Ramon didn't mind speaking in English with each other, but Leo keeps Spanish as her main language when talking to anyone, using the translation tool to speak with people who couldn't understand. Speaking of said tool, the translation apparatus translates her sentence to the following: “That's right, your neurons will fry if you stay there in the corner. Let’s do something fun, it’s our birthday!”
None of the three needed translations, since all of the triplets spoke English, but it helped – the surprisingly silent – foolish to understand their conversation better from a distance.
— “I will! I'm just… waiting for everyone to arrive before I go.” Ramon explained, and Dapper crossed his arms.
— “Casi todos ya están aquí, wey. Sólo faltan tio Cellbit, Roier y Richas, ellos se perdieron en el camino.” Leonarda answers her brother, who fidgets with his hand, anxiously. The translation device, although a bit late, reproduces Leonarda's phrase in English, “Almost everyone is already here, dude. Only uncle Cellbit, Roier and Richas are missing, they got lost.”
— “Okay… if you guys say. What should we do then?”
Dapper and Leo looked at eachother, then shrugged.
— “I don't know. What do you want to do?”
Ramon seemed just as uncertain as his siblings. The three of them had the same thinking face, showing how connected they were on this, all triplets being confused.
— “We could…. I don't know… maybe-” — Ramon feels a shiver when someone touches both his shoulders, whispering “boo.”
Ramon screams due to the suddenness of it, and can quickly hear the loud laugh of Richarlyson, followed by Leo and Dapper.
— Opa, Ramon, feliz aniversário. — Richarlyson was one of the few children that talked while signing, most of them resorting to sign language basically most of the time. He liked being heard, that was for sure. — Scared ya?
Ramon felt his heart beat extremely, unusually fast. If anything, Richarlyson almost gave him a heart attack. He's also extremely embarrassed for screaming, as he called attention from everyone at the party.
— “Hi, Richas. Obrigado…” — He signs, pulling up his bandanna ever so slightly to hide his embarrassment.
Richarlyson seems way less noisy with the other two, waving and saying;
— Feliz Cumpleaños, Leo. Happy Birthday, Dapper. — Richarlyson congratulates them on the languages the two speak the most, and both smile, Leo more so than Dapper.
Behind Richarlyson were three figures;
Tiny Pepito waved to the three, wearing his little striped shirt with his big glasses and little red shoes. He was so cute and small.
Roier had a grin, looking at Leonarda. He was the first to speak.
— Eh, Leo. Ya estás muy vieja, pensé que ibas a morir antes. — Roier teases, and Ramon can see Foolish squinting his eyes on the corner to read the translations that said: “You're already so old, I thought you were going to die sooner.”
Leo hits Roier, who both laugh. They both take the death thing as a joke, clearly, so no one minds.
Behind Roier, was a slightly off putting figure to Ramon. Cellbit.
He hasn't talked to him in a while, after knowing what he did to Pac is…. It's a little bit scary. Ramon waves, and Cellbit's serious face softens into a smile.
He crouches down to Ramon's height, like he did that one time they were together at the boat race.
— Feliz Cumpleaños, Ramon. — He says, and Ramon can't help but smile. He doesn't understand how the man that hurt his father so much was so sweet to him and the other children. It just didn't seem like the same person.
— “Thanks, tio Cellbit.” — He signs, and Cellbit smiles.
— You still have to choose your paranormal room, you know. When we find a way back to the old spawn, we'll find some time for you to choose. — Ramon is very clearly happy with the suggestion. He and Dapper helped Cellbit decorate the ritual room, but he never had found the time to choose one of the paranormal elements that Cellbit talked about.
— “I promise I'll find some time!” — Cellbit smiles when Ramon agrees, getting up and walking over to Leo and Dapper, probably to congratulate them too.
Little Pepito walks over to Ramon after talking with Leo, handing Ramon a little paper and a painted rock.
— Feliz cumple, Ramon! — Pepito says, he apparently tries to mimic Richarlyson by talking while simultaneously using sign language, but he, just like the many others eggs, seems to have a little bit of problems while talking. Nothing unintelligible, though. For his age, he speaks very well. Ramon remembers he barely talked when he was Pepito's age.
Oh, god. He's feeling old.
— “Muchas gracias, Pepito.” — Ramon thanks the little boy, who quickly got distracted by a butterfly and almost walked away, being grabbed by Richarlyson so he wouldn't get lost.
Ramon smiles seeing everyone, looking as his siblings get distracted with Cellbit's and Roier's presence. He takes the opportunity to leave discreetly, trying not to call much attention. He just wanted to be on his own for a little bit, deep in thought and quietly appreciating his happiness.
While trying to leave without being spotted, he bumps into something, almost falling before feeling like being caught.
— Oi, Ramon! — He hears Pac's voice, and smiles widely, hugging him without any hesitation. — Are you enjoying your birthday?
Ramon lets go slightly of the hug, shaking his head in agreement. When he's with Pac, he barely talks or signs, only communicating through movements and actions, because his Pai understands him so well they don't need words.
— That's so nice, I'm so happy to be here with you. — Ramon giggles, he gets so sillier when he's around Pac, it almost doesn't feel like himself. — Want to see something? Don't tell anyone, though.
Ramon gets a little bit confused, and agrees with a nod.
Pac, still holding the boy in his arms, discreetly walks over to the table with the cake. He looks everywhere around him, sometimes smiling and greeting somebody who came around, making small talk, seeming... suspiciously unsuspicious to Ramon. (Ramon is also slightly embarrassed to be seen this way, being held by Pac, but it doesn't matter right now.) Ramon then sees Pac reach for the table while still holding him, whispering a “Passa tudo”.
Pac, then, walks away from the table and goes to a corner with Ramon.
— It's our secret! — Ramon, confused with Pac's words, finally notices his dad holding a little plastic plate with sweets, mainly brigadeiros. Ramon's eyes shine, he really wanted one but apparently they had to wait for some reason.
Ramon quickly signs — “Obrigado, Pai!!” — before grabbing one brigadeiro and eating almost the entire thing in a bite.
Pac laughs, giving Ramon a kiss on the forehead, clearly happy to be with his neném.
— What are you two up to? — Ramon almost chokes on the brigadeiro when he hears his father's deep voice.
Pac turns to see his boyfriend, smiling happily.
— It's a secret. A secret-y secret! Is that even a word? — Pac giggles when saying that, and Ramon shoves one other brigadeiro on his mouth.
— Hm, is it? — Fit asks, chuckling. He approaches Pac and Ramon, placing his hand on Pac's waist, to bring him closer. — Can't you guys let me in on this secret?
Ramon looks at Pac, who makes a thinking face.
— Maybe… — Pac says, smiling. Ramon pinches him lightly, just to send him a sign, it didn't hurt or anything. — Do you think we should tell him, Ramon?
Ramon nods, and Pac smiles, looking back to Fit.
— We may or may not have taken a few sweets from the table… — Fit raises an eyebrow as Pac begins talking, being unable to contain a chuckle. — But no one noticed! You know, what the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't feel- or however it goes in English.
— Fair. — Fit answered with a chuckle. — Are there still some for me, or did you guys forget?
Ramon immediately grabbed the last brigadeiro on the little plastic plate, handing it to his father.
— “Pai and I would never forget about you!” — Ramon signed, and Fit smiled, a genuinely happy smile.
— That's true! — Pac confirms, quickly nodding to show Fit how Ramon was right.
— Aw, you guys are too good to me. — He says, caressing Ramon's hair and taking a bite of the brigadeiro. — Leo and Dapper asked me to call you two, they want to open the gifts with Ramon already.
Ramon didn't like opening gifts in public, he was the more reserved one out of the triplets when it came to that. Fit, however, already seemed to notice how Ramon got hesitant, and said;
— It's alright, Ramon. You don't have to open your gifts now, they just want your company. You can send letters thanking the gifts later. — Ramon smiles and sighs, happy that his dad understood.
— We have to go, then! — Pac excitedly said. — Everyone has to sing happy birthday to you, to Leo and to Dapper!
Pac has clearly always been very excited for birthdays. Back to Fit's birthday, he taught Ramon about the Brazilian tradition of the first piece of cake, and was so excited to go to the party, although he unfortunately couldn't in that specific day due to having passed out (spending the entire night farming for a trident may not have been the most healthy idea).
In any case, he was always so happy with birthday celebrations, and this was definitely showing now, as he carried the boy over to the table where his siblings waited, looking at the beautiful cakes Chayanne made.
Fit followed his family a little behind, smiling as he looked at Pac and Ramon having so much fun together. He felt complete with these two in his life.
Ramon tapped Pac's shoulder, wanting to be put down. Pac didn't take long to realize what the boy wanted, putting him on the floor.
— I'm going to call everyone, go stay with your siblings a little bit. — Ramon nodded as his Pai said that, seeing him walk away towards Fit. Ramon looked back at the cake table, seeing Dapper and Leonarda discussing something.
— “No, I'm pretty sure you give the first piece of cake before people start singing happy birthday, no?” — Dapper explains, and Leonarda shook her head, clearly disagreeing.
— “¡Pero no tiene ningún sentido!”
(But it doesn't make any sense!) — Leo argued.
— “How does it not?” — Dapper confusedly asks. As Ramon reaches his sight, both of the children turn towards him.
— “¿Cómo es la tradición del Pastel, Ramon?”
(How is the cake tradition, Ramon?) — Leonarda asked, assuming her brother would have a better understanding of said tradition considering he has a Brazilian father.
Ramon seemed slightly confused. He wasn't quite sure if he would be able to put it all into words. He thought for a bit, before signing back to his siblings.
— “Uh.. I'm not sure. But Pai said you sing happy birthday, then if you want you do a little speech on why you're giving the first piece of cake to this someone, and then you… just give it to them? I guess.”
Leo and Dapper exchanged looks.
— “Can it be only one person?” — Dapper asked, and Ramon nodded. — “Oh… that's difficult… Can we make an agreement that we can't give it to each other, then?”
Leo shrugged, and Ramon seemed to agree. He wouldn't be able to choose between Dapper and someone else if he needed to…
— Alright! — The three heard Pac's voice a little far away. Everyone was already gathered around the table. — Everyone sing happy birthday in your native language!!
— That'll sound a little bit like a mess. — Somebody in the back said. It was probably Tubbo.
— Mmm Yeah, probably, but it'll be nice. — Pac assured. Ramon giggled at his dad's answer.
And with Pac counting down from three, the guests began singing. You could hear any of the languages present on the island there, really. Some singing parabéns pra você, other joyeux anniversaire, even the mostly-asleep spanish speakers were there, singing. In the back, you could hear one voice in German, and a few in korean.
As Tubbo mentioned, it was a little bit of a mess. It sounded nice, but you could barely pick out who was singing what. They were having fun, at least, but that's what mattered.
Leo is proudly standing in front of her cake, smiling widely. Dapper, although looking more collected, is smiling at his father. Ramon is standing there a little bit awkwardly, but he looks proud of himself nonetheless.
Chayanne was in the middle of everyone singing, as he didn't like this type of celebration to himself, but people were clearly singing it to him too.
The singing stopped, although everyone cheered. The triplets blew the candles, Ramon having to lower his bandanna to do so.
Somebody in the back yelled something in portuguese. Ramon assumed they were talking about the cake thing.
He poked Leo, as she wanted to start.
— “Ehem. Buenos dias.” — Leonarda talked while simultaneously signing with her hands. She didn't have trouble talking, she just didn't like it much.
— “Ramon y Dapper están avergonzados, así que empezaré.”
(Ramon and Dapper are shy, so I'll start.)
Leonarda began, and Foolish cheered her on the back, saying something along the lines of “Vamos!!! Mi niña!!!”
— “Como es mi cumpleaños, digo que los fundadores de Fobo cuentan como una sola persona. Todos ellos son muy especiales porque están construyendo mis riquezas. El primer pedazo de pastel es para ellos.”
(Since it's my birthday, I say that the founders of Fobo count as one person. They are all very special because they are building my wealth. The first piece of cake is for them.)
People seemed slightly confused, although Tubbo and Foolish cheered.
— Can she do that? — Somebody asked.
— Meh, who cares, it's her birthday. — Pac was the one to answer.
Leonarda cut one big piece of cake into three, and Tubbo and Foolish walked up there to grab the cake.
— “To Sunny too.” — Leonarda signed, and Sunny walked over, unable to contain her smile.
— I'm not building anyone's wealth, though. It's my own wealth! — Sunny said. She is one of the few eggs that talk more than sign.
Leo rolled her eyes.
Everyone clapped as Dapper's turn began. Silent took over for about three seconds before he simply said, nonchalantly;
— “Pomme.”
Although people were confused by the lack of speech, it didn't take long for people to cheer as Pomme walked up to the table, grabbing her piece of cake, clearly extremely moved by her brother's choice.
Ramon was getting anxious. He's not usually anxious but… he didn't want to, for lack of a better word, fuck this up. It was an important tradition to his pai, right? He can't fuck it up. Not right now.
He took a deep breath. Everyone was looking at him. That didn't usually happen. He's not often in the spotlight.
He cut a piece of cake.
He took another deep breath, and made an effort to say:
— I… Uh, since this is a very important Brazilian tradition… — He tried signing while talking, but talking more loudly took a lot out of him and it honestly made him sign a bit slower, to match his voice. — the first piece of cake goes to my pai Pac.
With the cheering that came with that, everybody could hear Pac, almost crying, extremely happy, running towards Ramon. Instead of immediately grabbing the plate with the cake that Ramon was going to grab, Pac jumped over the table to hug Ramon.
— Eu também te amo muito, meu nenê!!! — The Brazilian exclaimed, tearing up. Ramon tried to get out of his pai's arms, almost suffocating, but giving up as he decided to simply hug back.
The songs that were playing before this began again, everyone walking over to the table to grab sweets and cake. Ramon, however, didn't let go of his dad for a while, both extremely happy.
Fit is looking at his boyfriend and his son from a slight distance, smiling more than he ever did. Fit already knew Ramon was giving the cake to Pac, since the boy and him had already been talking about it for weeks.
He takes a happy, relieved breath. He can live like this for the rest of his life.
He hears something, a metallic footstep. Fit quickly looks back, seeing Richarlyson stand beside him, arms crossed.
— I haven't seen my dad happy like this in a while, tio. — Fit looks curiously to the boy, who seems to have some stuff to say. Richarlyson, however, keeps quiet for a while. — You know… he had been very sad these past months.
— I… yeah, I could notice. — Fit answered, waiting for the boy to elaborate further.
— You and Ramon made him happy. — He chuckles, tilting his head slightly to the side. — Thanks for that.
Fit smiled gently.
— You took part in that, you know? — Richarlyson looked at Fit, now curious to what he had to say. — You make your dad and… and well, everyone around you really happy.
Richarlyson laughs a little, seeming embarrassed. Fit has come to notice how shy this boy actually is, even though he's so loud, outgoing and interactive with everyone.
— If you say so. I'd just like to thank you and Ramon for that, I like seeing my dad happy. — Fit places his hand on Richas’ hair, who fidgets with his hands, a bit embarrassed, but happy.
— Thank you to you too. Now go enjoy the party, Pepito's been yelling for you for a while now. — Richarlyson looks around, confused. He seemed to be really distracted, considering how he didn't hear his brother yelling for him.
— Obrigado, Tio! Falou! — The translator didn't quite catch what Richas said, but Fit assumed it was a goodbye. He waved to the boy, seeing him grab Pepito, who had begun crying due to not having found Richarlyson.
━━━━━━━━━ ➴ ━━━━━━━━━
It was around 11pm when the party ended. At least for Pac, Fit and Ramon, since they were always the ones to leave early. Pac is carrying a sleeping Ramon in his arms, the poor boy having slept on a chair due to getting tired quickly. He has his head against Pac's shoulder, and snores softly as he sleeps.
— I can carry him, Pac, it's okay. — Fit said as they walked. He couldn't help but stare at Pac, the moonlit night making the yellow on Pac's eyes shine, absorbing every single drop of Fit's attention.
— Oh, it’s okay. I really want to carry him, I don't know if i'll be able to see him again tomorrow. — Pac answered, adjusting his arms so Ramon could stay comfortable.
They spent a few seconds in a comfortable silence, and suddenly, both spoke at the same time.
— Thanks-
— Obrigado-
They went silent again, looking at each other, before they eventually broke into soft laughter.
— You can speak, please. — Fit said, his tone oh-so loving.
— It's just… — Pac began, before he eventually decided to switch languages, wanting to say it in the best way possible. — Obrigado. Obrigado por estar comigo, e por-... por poder me dar essa vida com você e com o Ramon.
They stopped in front of Fit's house. Fit smiled so clearly reading what appeared on the translation device.
“Thank you. Thank you for being with me, and for- for giving me this life with you and Ramon.”
Fit smiled. Such a genuine, loving smile. He couldn't have asked for anything better. Even after all the pain, even after everything he went through, he wouldn't change a thing. He would suffer it all again for these two.
Fit took a step closer, touching Pac's cheek.
— I love you, Pac.
Pac smiled, and Fit could see his expression soften into what seemed like overwhelming, genuine happiness.
— Eu te amo também.
Fit leaned closer to Pac's face, the hand on Pac's cheek moving to the back of his head, lightly pulling him closer. Pac closed his eyes, just wanting to feel Fit's presence for a few seconds. Fit did the same.
They didn't kiss. It still didn't feel like the time. But to both of them, what happened today was enough.
They spent at least twenty seconds just appreciating each other's presence, their foreheads touching. Some could say they'd spend more time there, had Ramon not shifted ever so slightly on Pac's arms, reminding them that they had to go. They separated, seeming to smile more than they did before, if that was even possible.
— See you Monday? — Fit asks, and Pac tries to nod, although stops mid way.
— If the rats manage to wake me up, yes. I can't promise, though… — Pac answered honestly, seeming a bit embarrassed. Fit chuckled.
— Fair. Hope they will, though. I already miss you, even if you're still here.
Pac chuckled, seeming even more embarrassed than before. He slowly and carefully hands Ramon to Fit, trying to not wake up his son.
— Oh, I almost forgot! — Pac reached for his pocket when saying that, and Fit, now with Ramon in his arms, seemed confused. Pac takes out from his pocket a blue bandanna with a yellow Pac-Man on it. — Give it to Ramon for me. I didn't have the time to give him this.
Fit felt more in love with this man with every second that passed.
— Sure will do. Boa noite, Pac.
— Boa noite, Fit.
That night, Ramon slept hugging a different bandanna, for a different reason.
#fitpac#hideduo#qsmp ramon#birthday#dapper qsmp#qsmp leonarda#qsmp chayanne#qsmp fanfiction#romance#fluff
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stranger things masterlist
welcome to my masterlist!
about me
Here are all my Stranger Things work, ao3 link, and spotify/fic playlist link
NOTE: all of my writings are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of my own imagination & are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events and people (living or dead) are coincidental.
Eddie Munson
Series
Chemistry
Part 2: Cherry On Top
Part 3: Show Me What You've Got
Part 4: The Promise
Part 5: Wouldn’t It Be Nice
Part 6: Don’t Dream It’s Over
Part 7: Time After Time (FINALE)
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Part 1: Back to the Old House
Part 2: Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
Part 3: There Is a Light That Never Goes Out
Part 4: How Soon is Know? (FINALE)
Henderson!Sister Mini Series
Part 1
Part 2
The Darkest Night
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3 (Finale)
One Shots
wasting your tongue, 18+
a recipe for disaster
black leather jacket
Rainy daze
teach me, 18+
Blurbs
you change your look and Eddie notices
"Why don't you have any piercings Eddie?"
talk
Headcanons
Introducing Eddie to Dia de los Muertos + making an altar for Eddie post-vecna
#urfavstargirl1#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson blurb#stranger things s4#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#stranger things#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic
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do u have any wenclair fic recommendations?
it's times like this when I wish I was more organised with note keeping or have the memory of something better than a hamster
I haven't been reading (for them and just generally) nearly as much as before I started writing for them. Not bcos I think it disrupts any writing process (can't disrupt no process 😌) but just bcos I don't seem to have as much time
But here's my attempt at a varied-ish list in no particular order:
[M] The Sisyphean Nightmare (16ch) by HonestToBlogJuno
Adult Wednesday is contractually obligated to participate in the marketing of her book, to her dismay. Luckily she is married to a werewolf with a communications degree and side-hustle in social media.
[Unrated] you could be the one that i keep (1ch) by overnights - Genie AU
And Enid, who’s wished on every star and comet and birthday candle she’s ever seen, looks at Wednesday now and comes up impossibly short of an answer. One wish left, anything in the world at her fingertips, and all she really wants is more time to spend with this enchanted, enchanting mystery of a girl.
[Unrated] backseat (3ch) by reputationstation - Celeb AU
Wednesday Addams is a failed fencing prodigy with a once promising career and a troubled past (and if everything goes according to plan, a troubled future as well) who has no intentions of becoming friends with the overly excitable, bubbly girl who calls herself a 'social media influencer', whatever that means. However, like most things in her life, her plans are inevitably thrown off the course.
[Unrated] gifts from a cat (1ch) by Rennajade
the one where wednesday is basically just a cat in human form
[T] Dia de los Muertos [now with chapter breaks] (11ch) by WishaDream
Wednesday invites Enid over to her house for Dia de los Muertos. It promises to be a horribly fantastic day.
[T] Shot Glasses, Tacky Jewelry (i know you mean more to me than that) (8ch) by RainbowJeff - Holiday/Mall AU
Wednesday has somehow been dragged into the mall employees' yearly Secret Santa. What's worse, she's pulled Enid Sinclair as her giftee.
[G] a day like a day in summer (4ch) by poetroe
Wednesday has strange ways of showing affection; Enid becomes intimately familiar with them.
[G] yours, eurydice (14ch) by hanjisgirlfriend - Celeb AU
Best-selling horror author Wednesday Addams hasn't written in years.
Everything changes when Enid Sinclair moves in across the hall.
[M] once bitten (try again?) (1ch) by nd_mindoir
Enid learns how to touch Wednesday and why Wednesday is so much softer with her in return
There's also Our Lady of Wild Beasts by Pelgraine which is no longer on AO3 because she's publishing it into an original fiction novel. Sad for us, but extremely good for her. Huge congrats!!
Explicit recs
(I guess it warrants its own section? 😇)
[E] Hysteria (1ch) by IndieBones918
Wednesday emotionally dumps on her girlfriend's best friend after her and Enid's first time and Yoko's having the absolute time of her life.
[E] Gift (1ch) by Mikkie_Mouse (Mikbates) - ABO/Omegaverse AU
Wednesday's inability to understand the commitments of a relationship leaves Enid frustrated... and taking matters into her own hands.
[E] A raven's dream of wolf (2ch) by tokyocorgi - ABO/Omegaverse AU
the one where Wednesday literally had a hot and steamy sex dream with a lot of feelings.
[E] I'm Just Here To Love You (2ch) by SaturnHaze
Wednesday never moans during sex so Enid comes up with a plan to finally draw them out of her.
Well, she and Yoko.
[E] First Time For Everything (1ch) by geekomancer, Onhirel
Wednesday and Enid having been dating for what feels like ages now, but their relationship hasn't taken that final step... until now. A make out session simply doesn't stop, confronting Wednesday of the simple fact that she doesn't actually know what to do. Thankfully, Enid is there to help her figure it all out.
There you go, happy reading (or not, whatever, you do what you want) with whatever floats your boat 🛥️
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After a few months of work, I finally got my art project done! It's for Halloween and Day of the Dead! I've always loved Dia de los Muertos and the skull make up that is done for it. I just had to draw my favorite characters in it. Below the cut is more info on their designs and why they have all this done!
I'll start with their designs. From reading more about Dia de los Muertos, colors have different meanings when it comes to the sugar skulls and make up used in this holiday. The biggest color I wanted to incorporate between the three of them was purple. Purple is the color of grief, pain, and more specifically losing a loved one. Purple candles are used and lit on the ofrendas (altars made to place pictures of loved ones that have passed on) to show the loss of a loved one. Each of them deserved to have purple because of the hard lives that each of them has lived.
I also tried to make their color palates match their personalities. Adira is more warm, bright, and vibrant. Hector is somber, dark, and off-putting. Quirin is a good middle ground as for the warm/coldness of the colors, but show cases his love of plants.
And now the reason why they are all painted up. My OC Amelia Renya from my Dark Kingdom Rising fic hails from French and Latino roots. In this world, her country celebrates a holiday very similar to Dia de los Muertos. I figure that around the holiday she was sad that she wouldn't be celebrating it and ends up telling the Brotherhood about it. Hector and Adira enthusiastically tell her they'd love to celebrate it with her and want to try out the face painting. Quirin wants to help her celebrate it as well.
This was such a fun project to do (albiet it was a little daunting and hard at times). I also did pics of Rapunzel and Moon Cassandra that I will be posting separately and soon after this!
Happy Spooky Season Everyone!
Happy Halloween!
And for those that celebrate it:
Feliz dia de los Muertos
#tangled the series#rapunzels tangled adventure#tts#rta#tts Brotherhood#tts Hector#tts Adira#tts Quirin#tts fanart#Dark Kingdom Rising fic#Dark Kingdom Rising AU#meecha art#Amelia OC#Amelia Renya
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Okay so I had an fic idea in regards to the celebration of Dias de los Muertos for both 1610!Miles and 42!Miles, however in order to make sure I'm representing it right I'm humbling asking if there are any hispanic followers of mines (if Puerto Rican that's great too!) That can give me some insight? I know I can do all the research I want but I also wanna get first hand accounts of it.
Help a sista out 🙇🙇🙇
#black reader#black tumblr#black marvel#miles morales#1610!miles morales x reader#1610!miles x reader#42!miles morales x reader#42!miles morales#42!miles x reader#1610!miles morales#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman across the verse
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