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cafeinthemoon · 3 years

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The Leaves of Her Garden - Chapter XVI

Title: The Leaves of Her Garden

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Madara Uchiha x reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 3163

Chapter (s): 16/?

Read the previous chapters here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Interlude, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 🖤 | ▶▶

Chapter XVI - The Week Before the Travel

If you thought your life has been through enough changes the moment you arrived at the Uchiha compound, the week before your husband’s farewell came to show you that there’s nothing that has already been through many changes that couldn’t be transformed a bit more.

The mornings were reserved to your shinobi training. You always used the same place of the day you learned how identify your chakra pathway, the garden. You liked it for its quietness and privacy: it was like whenever you were there, you could never be interrupted by someone or something unexpected. It seemed to work as a fence to another world, where time stopped just for you two.

Your progress came faster than you were expecting. Yes, it’s true that you were far from becoming a skilled shinobi like the ones you met there, but what you were capable of doing now were impressive when you considered that you were an adult who never had any preparation until then.

After learning how to control your chakra, your first challenge was to practice with kunai. When Madara put a blade on your hand for the first time and explained what you were supposed to do with it, you couldn’t feel anything but the uncomfortable weight of the weapon; you almost told him you didn’t want to hold anything like that again, but since you were going so far and you asked for that, you couldn’t look behind. When you found out you could transfer your chakra the kunai, holding it became strangely easier: your hand no longer trembled and you felt at will to throw it at the closest tree. The first time you did it, you ran to look at it closer and were surprised of how deep the blade entered the wood.

You then started to train your defense: for now, it was better for you to learn how to protect yourself and avoid conflicts, just as you wanted in the first place, and Madara stated that this part of your training would make things easier when you started to learn attack methods. This time you felt less difficulty to adapt because of the previous session you had before the ceremony; you also noticed the difference between striking using your chakra and just relying on your physical strength: your movements were more fluid, faster and well led. You felt less tired at the end too.

You were almost happy with your results when Madara decided to include the kunai in the process.

- But you almost don’t use any weapons when you’re fighting – you protested, using the vision you had with Hashirama as a parameter – Besides, if I won’t be attacking anyone I don’t need to know everything about a weapon right now.

His response was to laugh and disappear, taking the spot behind you right after; he held you neck and you felt something cold touching your skin. It didn’t take too long for you to recognize the sharp texture of the kunai. You froze.

- I forgot to say that these weapons are not only used for long-range attacks – he whispered to you – It’s not uncommon that a victim find themselves exactly like the way you are now. And what would you do in such state?

- I…

- It’s better to learn how to avoid it, right? – he replied for you – Besides, not everybody has the luxury of obtaining success in fights with their bare hands. For most shinobi, it’s unrealistic.

Yes. You almost forgot that, just like the Senju head, the Uchiha one was not a common man. Maybe if you had more contact with common shinobi you could have developed comparison methods that would sound more fair. But you didn’t say that to him. You just nodded and continued your training.

Later, by noon, it was the time when you were taken back home to clean yourself, eat and have a time to rest. You wouldn’t see your husband for a long time then: as the head of the clan and being busy with the preparations for the travel, spending the mornings with you was the best he could do for you now. Not only this, but you also thought that it wasn’t healthy for a girl to spend too much time in the company of a man, even if this man was as close to her as a spouse; you needed the company of other women too, and common people who had nothing to do with war and politics.

Fortunately, Ayane and Aiko kept visiting and taking care of you after your marriage, and while you developed an even closer friendship with the first, you started to see the second as a new mother life has decided to give you. Being with them, talking, eating and even working together (because after your insistence they allowed you to perform some of the house tasks) was refreshing; the moments you spent with them were of pure and simple joy, and worked as a period of rest from the intensity of your husband’s company.

One day, when you and Ayane were walking at the house’s surroundings, you finally had some time to continue that conversation you started when you were preparing for the wedding.

- So, y/n-sama… I hope everything went well during the wedding night.

There was no embarrassment in the girl’s words, so you felt at will to speak. You smiled and, before you noticed, you were speaking much more than you thought you would.

- Well, I… I don’t even know how to explain this to you! It was strange and incredible and… – you sighed and turned to her – Beautiful. At first, when you left me in that room, alone, dressed for the night, I was scared. I went to the porch to take some fresh air and to observe the stars. After some minutes, he came. I turned to him and it was like... I mean, now I was a married woman, about to be taken. I never felt the reality of my new condition so deep as during that moment.

You lowered your tone, and a sort of sadness was sensed in your words as you relived those memories.

- Do you remember the state in which I was brought here? I was still grieving the loss of my mother, and just lost my job and my house. But now I was given a new family, protection and a home. I wasn’t expecting this. It was so overwhelming that I started to cry.

You paused, trying to process your feelings. Ayane encouraged you.

- And what did Madara-sama do when he saw you crying?

A smile grew on the corner of your mouth and you sensed your face warming up.

- He hugged me and took me inside. He told me not to thank him with tears. I thought about that. He was right, you know? It was not the time to cry. Not anymore. He closed the porch’s door behind us and was going to start to touch me, but I was so nervous that I flinched at his first movement. He noticed it and told me to sit on the futon. He went there too and spent some time in silence, doing nothing, just looking at me. It was… unsettling, but not entirely bad. It was... – you sighed – Oh, it’s so hard to explain!

Ayane smiled.

- It’s alright. I think I know what you trying to say.

You felt relieved to see you were making some sense despite the confusion inside your head. This gave you the courage to continue speaking.

- You know how intense are Madara-sama’s eyes, Ayane. Every time he looks at me, I feel like all my clothes are nothing, because he’s looking inside me. As if I was naked from body and soul. That night it was the same sensation but deeper, so that I wasn’t sure I would be able to stand it. That was the first time something like this happened to me. It was scary to think that from that moment, I was going to be the wife of man capable of such thing.

You laugh at yourself at this.

- Tell me. Are all the Uchiha like this?

The girl laughed hard at your question.

- Well, none of them are exactly like Madara-sama, of course, but all of us who are Sharingan bearers have some intensity in our eyes. But I think that since you already experienced the strongest Sharingan of our time, you’d have no problem handling the other ones!

You smiled and were about to tell Ayane about the experience with the Mangekyo Sharingan, but something held your tongue. You somehow sensed that it was not the type of thing you should tell other people, no matter how close was your friendship with them; that was a pure, unique sign of intimacy that didn’t belong only to you, but to Madara as well. Something only for you two. You decided to tell part of the story then.

- There was a moment when he talked to me about his life – you started – He said he already experienced fear and loneliness. He told me he understood how I was feeling and that the best thing he could do for me was to share his experience. And it worked. Somehow our feelings started to blend as one, and I was no longer afraid. I finally let him touch me.

Ayane’s curiosity was only excited with this strange narrative of yours. She came closer to you, whispering as if someone could appear and interrupt the conversation at any moment:

- And how was it?

You looked at the sky when you replied.

- It was… wonderful. In a strange way. At first I was uncomfortable, and even thought I was going to get hurt, but little by little I got used to it. I felt like I was not alone anymore. I felt I was part of something again. Visible. Desired. I felt… safe.

- That is quite an explanation, I must say – she replied with a smirk – And then, what happened?

- Well, I felt a bit tired and ended up taking a nap – you laughed – But he took care of me when I woke up and spent the night by my side. It was weird, because I am not used to sleep with other people so close to me, but it was good.

You decided you were away from the house for too long and started the way back, hurrying up before a worried Aiko could go after you.

***

Your life was not only training and talking, of course.

Following the protocols established when you accepted the role of Sachiko, you had studying sessions about History, Politics and Arts to improve your intellect. Since you were used to a routine of books and research thanks to your experience as governess, it wasn’t that hard to stay for a couple of hours occupied with them, but when the evening approached you couldn’t resist to a period of rest. Aiko would bring you tea and food, and you either stood with her talking about your day or listening as she told you stories of her youth, Ayane’s childhood or important things you were supposed to know about the Uchiha, or went to your room to draw or play the koto while you waited for Madara to come back.

You skills with the carbon were developing in a satisfying rhythm now that you had more time to dedicate yourself to this pastime and less anxieties clouding your mind. You made countless sketches and finished many of them in the evenings when you were alone after the women left and before your husband arrived. Your memories, the people you’ve met and the places you’ve been – the entry of your first house, destroyed by war, the house of your adoptive mother, your room there; your lost friends, your mother, your student, Izuna, Aiko, Ayane, Madara; the garden you were training with him, the forest, the river – all was turned into art.

You also composed new songs or parts of songs for your koto when you weren’t feeling like drawing. You wanted to show some of them to Madara; they were better than that one you’ve wrote for your student, which was never played by you again.

You weren’t sure of how or why, but even before you could see him inside the room, you always felt the moment he arrived; you weren’t able to explain exactly how it happened, but you could feel what it seemed to be a sudden change in the air whenever he came around. You have noticed this trait since you met him for the first time, but it was like after your training sessions your capacity of feeling it has increased. You’ve been willing to talk to Madara about this strange sensation, but you didn’t know how to introduce the subject.

He would always come to see you by night, after finishing his activities and taking care of himself. He used to find you immersed on the strings of the koto or sitting on the couch, a drawing on progress on your lap. You always waited for him to start the conversations; despite the intimacy you managed to build in those few days, you still sensed you couldn’t invade some parts of the territory that belonged to him: if he had to tell you something about it, he would do by himself.

On the other hand, he was always interested in how you spent your days when you were not with him: he would approach you and sit by your side, surrounding you with one arm, and listen to you while observing your drawings or the way your fingers would slip through the instrument’s strings in an unconscious manner as you spoke; from time to time, he would use your pauses to make a specific question for something you didn’t explain so well or forgot to say, but most of the times his questions were directed to how you felt about the things you saw or what you thought of the situations you got through. It was strange in the first days, for you never were the type of speaking your mind so easily, but Madara had a way to find out the things he wanted and his questions were made in a smart, assuring manner, so you never felt forced to tell him anything. As time passed, you noticed that those direct talking about your feelings made you more good than if you kept all of them to yourself.

After those conversations, you would organize your things in the place of the room you reserved for them and prepare to go to bed. Sometimes you would spend a moment alone at the porch, but there were nights when the breeze were too cold for one to stand there for a long time, so you just let Madara close the door and went directly to the futon.

***

He took you most of the nights during that week. None of those times were exactly like the wedding night, but in all of them there was something you enjoyed most, whether it was the way he took care of you right after, how he allowed you to sleep in his arms or the things he said while touching you, praising your body, the smell of your hair or your voice when you said his name. At first you were afraid that you would always feel the same discomfort of the first time, but it didn’t happen: as time passed, it was like your body was slowly adjusted to his, and your pain diminished until it was almost gone. Between those nights there were one and another when he came later and you ended up falling asleep on the couch; there was a time when you thought you were carried by someone at some point of the night, but you weren’t sure if it was a dream or not until you woke up next morning on the futon and saw that your husband was already gone.

An important change that occurred was that instead of limiting himself to touch you, Madara taught you some of the things you were supposed to know as his wife, such as how to use your lips, your hands and even your voice to give and gain pleasure. For he was your first man everything was new to you, which sometimes led you to some uneasiness or doubt whenever something seemed too strange to you, but here you ended up knowing another side of Madara: he was an excellent communicator; none of these things were shameful or to be treated with secrecy, and neither he wanted you to see them as such, so that he would always speak clearly about his wishes and fantasies while encouraging you to speak about yours; he also sensed whenever you felt uncomfortable with something, even when you didn’t speak. It wasn’t the case that you had thought so much about these things before meeting him – you naturally knew it would be expected if you ever became someone’s spouse one day, but the thought was too vague until then; you were never too worried about it. However, now that staying with a man was a main part of your life, you started having ideas. It was a side of you haven’t discovered yet. And not only you, but Madara was more than pleased to know about this side.

There was a night when he noticed you were urging to tell him something, but refused to speak. You were already lying on the futon, your back turned on him, when you felt him surrounding your waist with his arms; soon you felt a soft kiss on your shoulder.

- You want to tell me something, don’t you? – you heard him whisper – What is it? Is there something bothering you?

Your face warmed up with the question.

- Not bothering me. It’s just that…

You sensed his arms tightening their grip.

- I see… – another kiss, longer and warmer – There is something you want to do.

You didn’t reply. His leg entwined with yours, his knee between your thighs. You were almost lying on your stomach, his body heating up your back, his nose smelling your hair, his hands starting to come and go all over you.

- Don’t be shy, girl. If there is something I do not approve, it is false modesty – he approached his lips from your ear, his voice so low you’d swear you were hearing it in your head – The rest I can handle.

You smiled and finally told him what you had in mind. It was funny that once your thought were turned into words, it seemed something simple, even silly, compared to some of the things he taught you. Still, he showed immediate interest and helped you with everything you wanted.

#madara #madara uchiha #madara fanfiction #madara x reader #naruto fanfiction

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the-tick-tock-chaos-shoppe · 4 years

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Helloooooo friends! I’m feeling in a rambly mood in which case I recommend scrolling by if you don’t wanna read my very unorganized thoughts h-

But anyways today I wanted to talk about my head cannons! I’ll do this quite a bit for all sorts of games (today I feel like doing some ahit-), but today ima focus on snatcher/ subcon in general!

★so first thing is that I head cannon that snatcher has ADHD, I believe They’ve had this even when they were was alive

-I believe when was alive and very young, he struggled with talking to people at first so most kids found them weirder or just didn’t like them all that much (I think they studied a tad bit in what what socially acceptable and they had classes for royal Etiquette anyways so they got way better with people). In which case I like to imagine though it’s clearly not even close to cannon that they went into the woods nearby a lot. Where the Local woodcarver+woodcutter lived (possibly The two were married), but they realized when seeing the very young prince fidgeting and the such he might need something to fidget with to focus on his classes and just for day to day things

In which case the woodcarver gave the young prince a wood cube with different textures on each side. they have this cube after death (they got one of his old brain dead servants to get it for them)

★ I believe snatcher is Demimale (Demiboy? Demiguy? Unsure of the appropriate term) , Asexual, and panromantic if you were curious about that!

★the snatcher is of course quite parental towards the subconites, but I think they wouldn’t be all that controlling,

you want to jump in the swamp? Eh, got some new fabric for a new body for you in advance go ahead. honestly though I do believe the one thing he did mostly because he wanted to distance himself from his own past from years ago, but basically I think if the subconites did anything more living wise (breathing when they clearly didn’t need to, eating, that kind of stuff) he would just harshly remind them to stop or at most flick them (like if they were breathing he’d just flick their chest harsh enough to knock the nonexistent air out of them

-I even believe accidentally when hat kid or bow kid was around he’d do the same thing but realize ‘oh peck wait, those ones ACTUALLY need air’ or the such

-he would flick food out of anyone’s hands so if bow or hat kid wanted to snack they’d either have to hide somewhere that would take to much effort for snatcher to try to yoink their food, or just go back home with their stolen apples if they wanted to snack.

★he is very lazy and unless something’s getting blown up or something about the past of this forest he’s gonna go sit and read his books in peace.

★I believe eating souls gives the snatcher quite a lot of power, but since I believe he basically has pure energy flowing threw him, if he stopped eating souls it’d cause a massive imbalance in said energy, causing him to go from ‘HAHAHAHA FOOOOOL’ to him just laying on the ground of the forest cause his lack of energy would cause him EXTREMELY exhausted and honestly he’d only be able to wave his hand dismissively.

★The snatcher would constantly wrap around trees for no reason in particular, so you’d just be walking in the forest and see his shadowy figure just laying on a tree branch Vibing

★no matter who you are if you mention some reason your a lawyer to the snatcher he’ll 100% make you do his chores still BUT also he would not stop talking/asking about law with you, and would also take your law books if you had them with you

★this isn’t mine personally but I’m adding in here cause it’s adorable. The subconites would bring Random things they found to snatcher, and no matter what it is or if the snatcher had seen it before he’d act in awe, ask questions about this finding, and just praise the subconite for finding it

★after awhile of hat kid visiting subcon snatcher would inadvertently pick up the action of booping things, he absolutely hates it and hat kid absolutely calls him out on it every time

★the snatcher knows the conductor and kinda just feels bad, which is quite surprising! I’ll explain why he feels bad later in when I do head cannons for conductor in a different post

★ his death day is June 5th! On this day he gets either extra snappy and moody

★if he accidentally goes into his prince looking form (which is caused by mass injury, weakness, or quick emotional change) and the subconites see it, the subconites would ask if they could do that as well, causing the snatcher to burst into tears.

★the snatcher loves going to the top of his tree and looking at the stars, but oddly he feels a tinge if sadness and almost guilt when looking at the crescent mood. So he prefers to star gaze on the night of a new moon

★he wouldn’t act upon it, but he DOES notice if a subconite leaves the forest (though since I think the soul/spirit would start to fade away after awhile of not being in a spiritual area, the snatcher would try to quickly leave and yoink the subconite back

-the only situation where he’s INSTANTLY concerned is when the subconite’s presence in the forest just instantly disappears, cause either that means some ghost hunters got in and are taking the spirits of the subcon ties for studies or something. OR that it’s the weird person that he never really got to see, but he knew that the person had red strings that could easily wrap around a subconite letting the person take them away

And that’s it for now! I hope you enjoyed reading my many head cannons, have a great day!

#you should know the only reason I’m posting these is because a friend of mine was really kind and said some people might like these h-#so to that friend thank you!!#ahit #a hat in time #ahit the snatcher #a hat in time the snatcher #the snatcher #ahit head cannons #a hat in time head cannons #ahit headcannons #a hat in time headcannons #fandomz speaks #fandomz rambles #long post #head cannons #headcannons

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livvywrites · 5 years

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crimson river [tmq prequel]

the origins of Talitha’s ship. it’s long, so most of it is under a cut <3

Talitha lifts the violin to her chin, and puts the bow to the strings. The music comes to her, easy as breathing; the melodies of childhood filling the clearing. She closes her eyes and lets the notes envelop her in sound. A memory rises, following the sound of the music. She’s taken back to when she first learned the song; calloused hand wrapping around hers, drawing the bow across the violin; chest pressed against her back.

The chest rumbles, and it’s Lyr’s voice that touches her ears; his breath ghosting across her skin in phantom memory.

He sings; pleasant baritone. Talitha doesn’t know the meaning the words he sings—she never asked, content to let the language stay a pleasant mystery. And as he sings, a glow flits on the edges of her vision. The pure, raw, unfiltered magic of Eldora becomes visible; shining bright under the hum of his voice and the melody of her violin. It dances and flickers like a thousand fireflies; like firelight; like glittering stars.

At fourteen, it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen—even now, there is no sight that could ever compare to that one; the courtyard lighting up at midnight, to the tune of a song she could never understand.

She fell in love that night—with magic, with the unknown, with music… and maybe even with her best friend.

The song ends, and she opens her eyes.

Golden green eyes, wide and luminous, bore into her own—only inches from her face. Talitha cannot bring herself to be surprised. She smiles.

“Hello, Cala.” She doesn’t know where the name comes from—doesn’t know how she knows the name at all.

But the nymph, the same nymph who gave her the violin in the first place, smiles back; revealing pointed teeth. “Hello, pirate.”

“Why did you call me here?”

“You want to get off this island. And I and my sisters would like you to leave,” Cala said easily. But Talitha didn’t get the impression that she meant it maliciously. They were invaders, and they had not been invited. More than that, Talitha and her crew could not truly survive out here, cut off from the rest of the world. (And, Talitha thought, Lynette deserved better.)

“What do I have to do?”

Cala smiled. She gestures to the violin in Talitha’s arms. “You have all the tools you need. Music—and your voice. You have the memories. Think of Lyr, and the magic he showed you. The magic he taught you, intentionally or not.”

“Majaria is a Slaeyr’s magic,” Talitha protested. “It’s—I’m not… I’m not a Slaeyr.”

Cala scoffed. “The Slaeyrs appearance brought it into the world, but just as they can be born to any race—so too can any race use that magic. Not as powerfully… in most cases.” Cala gave her a pointed look, a strand of bark-brow hair falling into her eyes. “You, my dear, have the ability. So use it.”

“I don’t—I don’t know how.”

“Yes. You do.” Cala reached out and touched her cheek. “Open your eyes… and sing.” Cala’s hand, green-skinned, slides from her cheek and presses against her forehead. She pushes, and Talitha falls backward; her mouth opening before she sits bolt upright.

For a moment she sits there, staring into the dying embers of a campfire. She can hear Lark snoring, and Ana muttering in her sleep. The ocean laps at the shore, and the woods are full of sounds. The chirp of frogs; the hum of insects; the calls of birds. But… as she sits there, staring into the ashes, she hears… something else. A song. A melody, that she… had long forgotten. She remembers, playing it with her sister. Lynette on the harp, Talitha on the violin. Shrouded in peace. Talitha had never been happier, growing up, than she was in the music room with her sister.

Talitha sits up. She wipes the sand from her body and steps over her sleeping crewmates. Falon has fallen asleep on watch, head ducked into his chest and loud snores coming from him. Tomorrow, she might berate him about it. For now…

She has to see if her dream spoke the truth.

She stepped into the woods, pushing aside hanging vines and stray branches. The path is overgrown. Roots grow in her way; some arching high off the ground and others just protruding, hidden by moss and clover. Talitha walks steadily. The branches grow thicker; the foliage blocks out the light of the moon and stars. She summons a dim, twinkling magelight. Around her, she can feel eyes boring into her. The branches shake, and the leaves quiver as creatures race through them. Birds take off, their wings fluttering and their cries piercing the air.

Goosebumps raise on Talitha’s arms, and her heart races in her chest. But she continues on; determined.

The trees begin to grow closer together, their branches tangling. Talitha can no longer tell which tree the roots under her feet come from. Perhaps they are but sprouts; roots themselves, springing from a much larger tree.

She ducks beneath arched roots, and climbs over others. Bushes reach out with prickly branches to tear at her clothes and skin. They’re minor cuts and rips, and she can live with them. So she ignores them. It would be unwise to ruin or harm any of this forest—especially when she was so far from the beach.

Talitha pushes more vines from her view, and immediately finds herself squinting in the moonlight. She steps into the grove. The ground is covered in moss and clover, and in the center of the clearing is a massive tree. Talitha swallows in its presence. This is no ordinary plant. This is a tree descended from the World Tree—Talitha would bet her ship on it.

Or, well. She would if she had one.

Her eyes slide over the grove. Hanging lights float in the air. Some of them are fireflies. But others—they look like wisps. Or fairylights. Flowers grow; their perfume thick and heavy in the air. The forest is concealed by thick, hanging vines. The area is unnaturally still; the moon beaming above, and the stars glittering mysteriously. Talitha swallows. She keeps walking forward, waiting for the sensation that something is wrong to creep into her gut.

It never comes.

Halfway across the grove, she spots it. Sitting innocuously on one of the thick roots of the tree… it’s the violin from her dreams. Grey wood, the same color as the tree bark, with green patches as if moss was growing on it. A perfectly from bow sits beside it, and so too does a tiny seed. Talitha walks over, and very carefully picks them up.

It feels right in her hands. As if it was made just for her. She swallows. She reaches out, with the hand holding the bow, and touches it to the tree root. “Thank you,” she breathes.

A breeze blows across her skin. The trees whisper—or so it sounds, as their leaves rustle against one another. Talitha turns and leaves, heart in her throat. She pauses, once, at the threshold, to look over her shoulder. She swears that, across the clearing and to the left, she can see the faint, ghostly outline of Calla, the nymph from her dream.

Back on the beach, Talitha walks away from the campsite. She finds a far away spot, and plants her feet into the sand. She stares into the trees. After having traversed the grounds, the forest should seem less foreboding… but it doesn’t. Something about the shadows lurking between the trees sends her heart racing and her stomach twisting nervously.

There is something… wild, and alive about this place.

Calla was right. She needs to leave. They all do. This is not a place that they are welcome. Not now—perhaps not ever. There is a reason it was hidden in the middle of the Dead Sea.

Talitha plants the seed beneath the sand, and stands. She exhales.

She closes her eyes, and she pictures the Captive Queen. And then—she pictures every change that she would make. She breathes in and out, steady and deep. Her heartbeat slows, and the tension drains from her body. The ship builds in her mind. She sees the hull, grey and barklike in texture; like the violin she holds in her hands. There are patches of moss. She sees the sails, made of fibrous material, made from the plants of the forest. She sees the anchor, hewn from stone. It is bereft of weaponry—but that, she can buy. Somehow.

She sees the rooms. The bunks. She sees the hold, and the brig. She sees the masthead—fashioned to look like Calla. But she also sees intangible things. The magical layers of protection, hewn into its surface. The way it’s tied to her, the way it will respond to her every thought. This is not something she desires, but it is something that will happen, because that is the nature of the magic.

She sees how deep her influence goes—and watches as, in her mind’s eye, the ships sails not just the sea but through the sky, like the airships of home.

Talitha opens her eyes; takes a breath; and begins to play. The melody is a haunting refrain, sliding between hopeful, and mournful. Her feet trace patterns in the sand, as she whirls and dances in place, her movements copying the rise and fall of the tides; the ever-shifting motion of the ocean.

The trees begin to sway in an unnatural breeze. The sand lifts from the ground in whirls. Talitha’s clothes begin to flap. Her heartrate picks up again. Her blood flows faster; her fingertips and feet growing warm. The trees begin to creak and groan, an ominous sound, but to Talitha it is of no consequence. Words form on her tongue, her native language springs to her lips, and she sings. What words she says she does not know but it does not matter, for her intentions are clear in her mind. And she can feel the island itself. Its age, and its power—and its willingness to help, if only to make her leave.

Their roots of the seed begin to creep out and into the sand. They rise from the ground and reach out towards the ocean. The skeleton of a ship begins to form, slowly and yet all at once. The rooms fill the gaps in the skeleton. Halls and ladders connect them, and then the hull forms to protect them. It gleams with golden runes. Some pulled from her—others, formed by the trees. They are in a runic language Talitha does not know and were she of clear mind, she would crave their knowledge.

But she isn’t, and so her mind piques in curiosity, but it is swallowed by the ebb and flow of the music, and the words forming on her lips.

The masts rise from the deck. Plant fibers grow, forming themselves into sails. Below deck and in her cabin, she can feel them transforming into mattresses, and blankets. They won’t be the most comfortable things—but they’ll do, until more can be bought. Stones rise from below the earth; precious metals with them. A chain weaves its way through the walls, and an anchor comes to rest at the side of her ship.

Ropes are woven of vines, connecting to the sails and forming riggings. The crows nest opens at the top.

The last thing to form is the figurehead. The rendition of Calla breaks through the hull, looking like a mermaid rising, chest first from the water. Though her coloring matches the ship—she is just how Talitha last saw her. Curly hair cascading down her shoulders; sweet, open face and calculating eyes; bare, curvy body with arms outstretched. Her legs do not form, and Talitha does not envision them.

The ship is finished. The wind slowly dies down, and Talitha sinks to her knees, the violin limp in her hands. She breathes heavily and harshly in the night air… but she doesn’t feel exhausted at all. She’s energized—her heart still racing and her blood still pounding.

Too much extra power. The thought floats to her mind. It takes an eternity to place the words. Her teacher, back in school. Sometimes people draw too much magic from another mage, or from Eldora, and it overloads them. She has to—she needs to get rid of it.

She struggles to her feet. She knows where to go.

She walks to the edge of the forest. The violin falls from her grasp and lands on the ground. She stumbles forward; splays her palms against a tree. She closes her eyes and reaches outward.

The trees—they’re an interconnected network. It all leads back to one tree… but not the one Talitha visited, in the center. The forest must be made up of multiple interconnected root systems. She files the thought away for later, and instead—she focuses on pushing out. She channels that extra magic into the tree, and piles with it her gratitude.

Thank you, she repeats. Over and over again, until she sinks to the ground, palms scraping against the rough bark. Her trembling subsides. Her heart slows down. Her blood stops pounding in her ears.

She can breathe again.

taglist: @quartzses; @idreamonpaper; @runningonrain; @witchywrite; @queenofsquirrelsstuff; @margaretcroftwrites (lemme know if you want to be added or removed!)

#writeblr #writelr #writers of tumblr #amwriting #amwritingfantasy #fantasy fiction #short fiction #original fiction #original writing #original work #fantasy #my writing #talitha jade #tmq #the martyr queen #tmq prequel #crimson river

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averagedoctor · 5 years

Text

Breakups and beginnings

11th doctor x reader

Pronouns: gender neutral

Word count: 2,462 (I didn’t realize I had written so much wow)

TWs: crying?, breakup?

Tagging: @evyiione

Summary: While out trying to clear your head of a recent breakup, a odd man sits down next to you.

A/N: I got broken up with a few weeks ago which is where the inspiration for this came from. This also took forever to write and isn’t really edited so yeah there’s that

Wiping your eyes, you took a shaky breath in. You never thought that this was actually going to happen. You looked away from the person in front of you and sniffled. Tears still dripped down your face and you tried once again to get rid of them. It didn’t work. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you turned around and left, walking home, not looking back. You couldn’t believe that this was real. You didn't want to think that this was real. Except, it was, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it. So, instead, you walked home, crying.

Reaching your stoop, you realized just how biting cold it was outside. Funny, it didn’t even register to you since you were so wrapped up in your thoughts. Unlocking your door, you headed to the bathroom to assess the damage. Your eyes were swollen, nose raw, and cheeks incredibly flushed and red. Splashing water on your face, your thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to them and tears welled in your eyes once again. It was so surreal and yet you had just experienced it. Breathing in, you backed up and slid down the bathroom wall, burying your face in your hands and sobs. Truly, painfully, sobbing. You hadn’t cried like that in a long time and it felt like an old friend. You wished it didn’t feel that way.

After an hour or so, you collected yourself. You hadn’t felt so drained and lonely in such a long time. Immediately, your thoughts rushed to texting them, they always made you feel better, until the wave of reality crashed down on your, forcing you to remember that you no longer had that lifeline. Closing your eyes, you breathed deep, attempting to hold more sobs at bay. You couldn’t stay in your house anymore, so, against your better judgement, you left. Whisking your coat on and stuffing your phone in your pocket (even though there wouldn’t be anyone texting you) you headed out. To where, you weren’t sure. All you knew is that you had to leave. Just leave. The last conversation you had with them played through your mind as you walked the bitter streets. Streetlights were the only thing that illuminate your path.

“I’m sorry.”

That was the one sentence you couldn’t shake. You hated how sincere they sounded. “I’m sorry.” If they were so sorry, then why did they do this to you? Why did they figure hurting you was so much better? It wasn’t like it mattered anymore but you wanted to know so badly. A tear fell down your cheek and you quickly got rid of it, continuing to hurry forward.

Eventually, you reached an empty park. It was nearly pitch black and the sky was full of stars. You were a little shocked that you were here, considering that it was so far from where you live, but you figured you were too wrapped up in your thoughts to process anything. You took a seat on the nearest bench you could find. The cold metal bit at your legs and you shivered against it, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. Looking off into the distance, you let the numbness consume you. You couldn’t even find the energy to cry, all you could do was sit on that freezing bench and watch the trees dance in front of your vision as the dark twisted their shapes.

You couldn’t say how long you had been there before, suddenly, a man had sat down on the bench next to you. Fear immediately filled your body. It was the middle of the night and there was a strange man next to you and you had no idea what his agenda was. Still, you couldn’t help your head turning and looking at him. He had brown hair that swept over one side of his face. His clothes were interesting for this time of night, but he could have just come from a party. He was wearing a red bow tie, white button down, a light brown tweed jacket, and some color of dress pants that your eyes couldn’t pick up in the dim light. You didn’t say a word and you could feel the blood draining from your face. He looked shocked at your reaction.

“Oh, hello! I didn’t mean to scare you, you just looked upset and I wanted to see if you were okay. I should have thought about the time of night it was, really. Honest mistake, I forget about it sometimes. Well then, are you alright?” He rambled off, looking at you with expectant eyes. Your fear ebbed. He seemed harmless enough, just a nice guy looking out for another person. Nearly anybody else would have seen you and hurried on by or not even been outside at all.

“I…” You paused, trying to decide whether to lie or not, “I’m not alright.” You admitted at last, hanging your head. The man gave you a sympathetic frown. “It’s really no big deal though. You didn’t have to stop to talk to me. I’ll be fine. You should go, enjoy your night.” You said, looking at your lap, still.

“I stopped by because you seemed sad. I can’t stand seeing anybody sad.” He left it at that and it was up to you to say something now.

“Well, okay.” You opened your mouth to continue speaking but paused, looking at the man for a quick second. Even thinking about saying the words and admitting it was real was causing your throat to close up. “Um.” You coughed, a blush forming on your cheeks. Your eyesight turned to the trees in front of you. “My partner. They left me.” You stammered out, tears pricking at your eyes. Shifting, you swiped your hand at them. “It’s… it’s dumb. I knew, I knew, and yet… I’m still surprised and, and hurt and yeah. That’s my night.” You huffed out in a laugh, mirroring self deprecating. “Sorry. That was pathetic of me.” You laced your fingers together, worrying with the skin.

“I’m so sorry.” He said with such sincerity that it hurt your heart. Who knew a stranger could be so nice.

“Yeah, but nothing can be done, so…” You trailed off, going to stare at his shoes now, trying to decipher their color in the dark. “What’s, uh, what’s your name?”

“The Doctor or just Doctor.”

“Y/N.” You replied with a curt nod. It was an odd name but somehow it fit him. You couldn’t have imagined him having any other name. Maybe John, but that was besides the point.

“Thank you.” You blurted out suddenly. “My night has been going horribly. I have no one to talk to and everything was just building inside. I thought I was going to explode. I didn’t realize how much I needed to say the truth out loud until you. So, thanks.” You finished lamely, now holding eye contact with him.

“Of course. I try to be helpful like that. Plus, people like to talk to me. I guess I have one of those faces.” He joked with an easy smile. Putting your hands on your knees, you pushed yourself to stand.

“I should be going.” You excused, pointing behind you.

“Would you want a lift home? It’s cold.” He reasoned, standing up as well. You hesitated, knowing you shouldn’t trust a stranger like that, but you were now noticing the cold and couldn’t bear the walk back home.

“Alright.” You caved, sticking your hands in your jacket pocket. The man lit up at your response.

“This way.” He motioned, striding in front of you, and the two of you walked out of the park.

About a block away, there lay a tall object blocking the horizon, a bright light at the top of it a beacon. The Doctor headed straight towards it and you trailed behind, cautious. He stopped right at the doors, waving you to come over.

“This… this doesn’t look like a car.” You joked, nervously. It was some decades old blue police box. You hadn’t even ever seen one in person before and didn’t think any existed anymore.

“Oh, it’s better than a car.” He winked, tapping the wood lighting with a finger. “You can go in, it’s perfectly safe.” He assured you, heading to push open the door.

“I don’t think we could both fit in there. I should just walk.” You said quickly. You thought you could trust this man, but this was getting weird now.

“It’s terribly cold. Please, just step in for a second, I think you’ll be surprised.” The Doctor pleaded, running a hand through his hair.

“Fine.” You said, curtly. You couldn’t think of any way to excuse yourself out of this situation so you figured you would be better off stepping in.

As he pushed open the door, you shut your eyes and stumbled in, your hand a guide on the wooden wall. The wood that turned to a cool metal as you entered. Your eyes snapped open with the texture change and you found yourself in a much larger space than you ever could have imagined. It was all gleaming metal with a control console in the center of it all. Stairs were fanned around the room, leading off to who knows where.

“Oh my god.” Was all you could breathe out, spinning around slowly so you could take in all that was around you. The Doctor stood by with a pleased smile on his face, leaning on a stair rail in front of you.

“I know.” He said, hopping up to the control panel. “So, care to go someplace other than home?”

“Huh?” You tilted your head, walking over to him. “What do you mean? What happened to going home?” A light blush formed on his cheeks and his eyes darted everywhere but your face.

“Well, this is my ship, the TARDIS. She can travel through space and time and I thought, maybe, you’d like a distraction… I can drop you at home, if you want.”

“Space… and time?”

“Yes, anywhere. Maybe not the 652nd sector, but anywhere else.” You scoffed and rested a hand on the cool metal of the console.

“What about a star being born?” The Doctor’s eyes lit up happily and he whizzed off, yanking levers here and there, and soon enough the TARDIS was bucking and shaking. You gripped tight to anything near you in hopes to stay somewhat upright. Then, just as soon as it had started, it stopped. The Doctor skipped along to the doors and guesterued at you to come over. Regaining your balance, you shakily walked over to the doors.

“Are you ready?” He asked, hands tensing on the handles. You nodded in reply.

He flung open the doors with a flourish, beaming at the sight before you. It was stunning. He had brought you just as it was starting to form and so many beautiful things were happening before you at once. Tears filled your eyes and you blinked them away, shocked. You had never cried at anything beautiful before.

You and the Doctor stood there for the whole process, you gaping in awe the entire time, and the Doctor watching with a pleased smile on his face.

“Why a star being born?” He questioned you when it was over, the two of you walking back to the main area.

You shrugged, thinking. “New beginning, I guess.” He patted you on the shoulder and went to go set the coordinates to home. With a quick jostle, you were back on Earth, back at your home.

“Is this what you always do?” You were sitting on the stairs leading up to the center.

“Yes.” He replied, taking a seat next to you.

“Alone?”

“Sometimes. I try not to be.”

“Where are the people you’re with then?” That question only earned you silence and the Doctor averting his gaze.

“Sorry.” You said hastily, wanting to recover for your blunder.

“It’s fine.” He assured, looking back at you and giving you a tight smile.

“Thank you, for everything. I really needed that tonight.” You stood up, giving the man a smile, your first real one of the night. “I should be going now, though, for real.” You laughed, anxiously. You were never good at being the one to initiate the goodbye. Just like… no. You weren’t going to think about them right now. They weren’t going to ruin this for you. “Goodnight, Doctor.” You waved to him, walking over to the doors to leave. Cracking open one, you were just getting ready to step out into the cold night when you heard noises behind you and turned around. It was the Doctor, standing at the base of the stairs now, shifting his weight, and adjusting his bowtie.

“Actually, Y/N, would you want to come travel with me?” He rubbed his hands together nervously. Your eyes softened and you frowned.

“I’m sorry, Doctor. I have a life that I need to take charge of.”

“Yes, of course.” He nodded multiple times, lowering his hands. In a moment of pure impulse, you rushed over to this near stranger and gave him a hug.

“Be safe.” You whispered to him before fleeing out into the cold. Your walk home was monumentally better now that you could replay all that you had seen tonight in your mind. You hardly even thought about them until you got into bed that night. That’s when the tears broke free and flowed from your eyes. Even new stars and strange, wonderful, men couldn’t stop the aching loneliness you now felt without them in your life. Hopefully the star would be enough to show you that things can begin again and be more beautiful than they were before.

The Doctor sat down slowly on the stairs. He found that his breath was stolen from his lungs and it took a minute before he could breathe normally again. It’s always the good ones, the best ones, that got away. All the possible futures shattered in the instant they decided to leave. He understood, of course, that you were in a spot where going off with him would be a lot like being tied down and back in that relationship you had just been thrust from. He knew, but that didn’t mean it pained him any less. He put his head between his legs as some tears fell through the cracks and tried to think about how much happier he had made you tonight and how you would carry this with you for the rest of the life. Surprisingly, it helped him feel a tiny bit better and soon enough he was pulling himself up off those steps and shooting himself straight into another adventure, another world.

#11th doctor #doctor who #breakup #eleventh doctor #11th doctor imagine #11th doctor x reader #fanfic

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d-clarence · 7 years

Link

Y’all know what to do at this point.

Read and review, trust me, it really helps gaining some feedback!

As Ashi’s search for the lost Samurai intensifies, her hope wanes and falters. But little does she know that help will arrive from those she believed to be long gone. This takes place on my interpretation of events of Episode XCVII.

Here’s an excerpt from the story:

---

Ashi has now witnessed everything good about the former Samurai, but still retained her bitterness of heart towards him. The bitterness that stemmed from what he had to do to her own sisters. She fully understood why he did what he did, but that does not excuse seeing her closest family fall one-by-one into bloodied and battered heaps.

The sun began to set and the clouds thundered nearby as she was taking another rest stop in the woods. Ashi finally took the time to carve in the names of her sisters along the hilt of her katana, as she had long promised to do so weeks ago. She took care that each name was intricately carved in cursive lettering, as Arya’s name was done.

“… Avi… Ami… Aki… Aya… Alana…” she muttered.

All along the hard, textured surface of the sword, the former Daughter of Aku had carved in her sisters’ names with her dagger in the order they were murdered. Each name lay in succession of the other, trailing along the hilt, next to Arya’s, but a few inches of space remained between Alana’s mark and the handguard of the blade. She figured when the time was right, her own name would be added on right there. She deeply wished they would show themselves to her again. She never realized how lonely she was until now.

Upon returning her blade to her waist, it was time to move on, but where should she go? The Ronin could have wandered anywhere. While it was a blessing her search had certainly narrowed down to the small island nation of Japan, she knew not where to look. The journey seemed hopeless and pointless. Jack had truly abandoned her, despite all his promises and teachings.

At the moment all seemed lost, they showed themselves to her once more.

“A little lost, aren’t you, Sister?” Ashi’s eyes snapped open from her melancholy. Only one of her sisters had this playful of a tone whenever she spoke.

It was Arya.

But alas, she was not alone either. The other five stood with her, all of them with a change of attire as well. Each of Ashi’s sisters had adopted similar leaf dresses and some cases, a hairstyle change as well.

Arya now more fully resembled the waitresses from Gypsy’s, wrapping her chest in a similar fashion the dancers had. Her midriff, shoulders, and arms were fully exposed and she wore a short leaf skirt with thigh-high boots composed of reeds. Her bob cut now held a single cherry blossom over her right ear.

Aki came up next in a more modest and long flowing dress that extended to her ankles. Palm leaves made up the primary construction of the skirt area and the sleeves of her top stopped just shy of her elbows. Small, decorative fringes and seashells made up her belt. Her signature spiked cut remained the same.

The others were also fashionably dressed as well, with dresses, skirts, and tops of other varying designs. Some sported short braids in their hair, whilst others kept theirs long, curly, and adorned with flowers. Ashi couldn’t believe her eyes.

Before she could speak, Aki rose her hand up to her eldest one’s lips. “Yes, Ashi, this is very real.”

Tears cascaded down the trembling eyes of Ashi’s face. Her second-in-command’s finger tips were soft and warm to the touch. Unable to control herself for any longer, she jumped into the arms of her sister in a deep, loving hug and sobbed right into her shoulder.

Everyone joined in on the heartfelt group hug as the family seemed reunited, forever.

“It’s okay, Ashi, it’s okay,” cooed Ami.

“We will always be with you,” comforted Aya.

“No matter where you go," Alana assured.

Breaking the hug, Ashi wiped her face off with her arm and sniffled with a smile. ”I… I… do not understand… but… how?”

“That will take a while to explain,” Avi said. “Now come! We have something to show you!”

The six ran off, beckoning Ashi to follow. The young woman did so without hesitation. As the sun set, a multitude of stars lit the dark forest ahead, even as storm clouds raged closer and closer. The bioluminescent plant life glowed and lit in what seemed to be in all colors of the rainbow. To Ashi, this was a time to be merry and celebrate, for her sisters have returned to her.

They playfully giggled and danced through the forest as even Ashi found it hard for herself to keep up.

“Come on, Ashi!” Avi waved over from a fallen tree.

The tears the eldest sister shed were of the joy she was bereft of ever since she was born into this world. She darted past bushes, leaped atop shrubs and caught hold of Aki’s warm, soft, yet strong hand as they all traveled together.

Her joy exceeded to the point where her quest for the lost Samurai didn’t matter to her anymore. She knew Jack was around somewhere. The former assassin of Aku believed she can delay just this once. The dark and thick storm clouds fell upon the seven as a heavy downpour overcame them all. Ashi didn’t care as she laughed and played with her sisters for the first time in her life. Fearing she will get an infection, Alana generously wrapped her sister in a large tree leaf that enshrouded her entire body.

“Wow! Thanks, Sister!” Ashi giggled.

“Anytime, Leaf Girl,” she joked.

“Ha, ha! Seriously?!” The remark was ironic in itself.

“Come on, you two, we’re almost there!” Arya shouted.

“Almost where?” Ashi raised an eyebrow. Her smile dropped in confusion.

“You’ll see…” Ami chimed in.

As Ashi hurried along with her sisters leading away, they exited the still-glowing forest as the seven came into a clearing where a tall building lay in the crossroad of several paths. The structure reminded Ashi very much of the aesthetics that Momotaro and Shinobi’s had. It stood seven stories high, with roof sections interrupting each story as it curled upwards at the edges. The dark-colored building had translucent windows that showed its guests of many cultures and races alike drinking, gambling, and lounging around. The sign that loosely creaked and hung on its hinges read, “Da Tavern of Da Sam-Moo-Rhai.”

“We both know how easily distracted you get, Ashi,” Aki confided, uncaring of the rain that cascaded down her slender body and dress. The rest simply lined up side-by-side as Ashi wandered forward.

Ashi fully knew now why her sisters had lead her here. Before her hand pushed the door open, she hesitated, wanting an answer.

“Why?” She turned and questioned.

“The Samurai needs you,” Aya rose her hand to Ashi. “He needs your help.”

“Why have you brought me here?” The eldest confronted. Her blood ran as cold as the rain as she could no longer tell if the water that fell upon her face was from the storm or her own tears. “Am I meant to forgive this man for what he did?”

“Ashi,” Aki softly spoke as more thunder crashed. “If you can’t forgive him for what he did to you, then forgive him for us.”

“No,” she turned away, closing her eyes in anger. “There is no turning back from the path he has chosen.”

“And yet, here you are,” Arya pitched in. “Please, Sister…”

“He killed you!” Ashi shouted back. “Now that I’m thinking clearly, he deserves any trouble coming to him!”

“You don’t mean to say that,” Avi shook her head. “What happened is history, and the now is a present. You can change that!”

“Come on, you have seen the evidence for yourself,” Ami groaned in reason. “He is a good person! That is something the rest of us never knew in our lives, but you did.”

“Hope lives,” Arya taught and pleaded. “It is everywhere! You have seen it; everyone he has touched and all the people Jack has helped!”

Ashi continued to shake her head in disbelief that such a merciful being could not do so for her own family.

“As we once were, he is being misguided by forces way beyond your comprehension!” Alana pointed out. “We know it as you soon will.”

“And most of all,” Aya turned her last living sister to her. “He showed you the truth! He proved there’s so much more to you than we ever knew existed!”

“’So much more?’” Ashi drooped and doubted. “Like what?”

Refocusing her sister’s gaze into her own, Arya begged, “The hope he gave to you that saved your life from the one we were imprisoned to!”

“Okay, okay,” Ashi eventually relented and gave in to her sisters’ pleas. “I’ll finish this…”

“We will always be with you, Sister,” Aki concluded. “We have to go now, but please, find Jack. Not just for you and me, but for everyone.”

“No,” Ashi shook her head trying to hold back another fit. “Just… please… don’t go…”

“I’m sorry, Ashi, but…”

“N-O-O-O!” The last Daughter of Aku hysterically cried as she pulled her sister in for a tight hug. “I won’t let you go!”

“I don’t want to either,” she reciprocated the feeling. She broke the contact only to cradle her saddening sister’s face in her caring palms. “But remember, we are here, we are watching out for you.”

With one last group hug, Ashi tried to hold as many of them in her arms as possible. In a cruel twist of Fate, they vanished with each flash of lightning that lit up the sky and earth. The first to go was Arya, then Avi, Ami. Ashi gasped in horror as she found them disappearing in the order they passed in, as she found herself grasping at thin air as each one vanished. Then, the next to go were Aki, Aya, and there stood only Alana and Ashi now.

“So, uhh,” Alana shyly muttered, rubbing her arm. “I… guess… this is goodbye…”

“I’ll miss you,” Ashi regained control over herself. “All of you…”

“We know,” she nodded once, holding her sole surviving sister’s hands in her own. “We will be there, when you need us.”

As the lighting and thunder clapped one more time, the last of the seven found herself all alone again. The only thing left to remind her of this experience was the large tree leaf Alana draped her in and a single cherry blossom that lay in the mud in front of her. Ashi had no other choice but to move on. Not just for her own or her sisters’ sake, but for Jack and the fate of the entire world.

She walked on, controlling her composure again as she wiped away the last of her tears. Taking in one last deep breath, she marched towards the entrance to the tavern. Once again, she hesitated at the door, bracing herself for whatever waited on the other side.

#samurai jack #season 5 #novelization #jashi #ashi #scaramouche #flora #da samurai #demongo #seppuku #episode xcvii

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