#WHY AM I FIGHTING A SCHOOLHOUSE?
Text
ideal location [ch.4]
Nathan Hale x F!Reader
The next morning did come a bit faster than anticipated, and while you blinked bleary eyes open to stare at your ceiling, your mind had convinced you that yesterday was a dream.
There was no way that you had let a man from the 1700’s sleep on your couch last night. If your criminal justice 101 class taught you anything, it was never to do anything of the sorts like that.
Your door was closed over, but ajar, and you listened intently for any sound of another soul in the flat. You had survived the night, so that was a plus, you suppose? Sliding out of bed, you cross the room to open the door all the way. It was quiet, eerily so, and something persuades you to check the couch, if Nathan had actually spent the night. Swallowing thickly, you shuffle through the short hallway in sock-clad feet.
“Good morning,”
For some reason, it startles you. You had seen him, he was sitting so politely on your sofa, dressed just in a white undershirt and trousers.
Right. He has been very adamant about not taking your ex’s clothes. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware that you haven’t answered him.
“‘Morning,”
You reply, rounding the furniture to see what he was up to. Surprisingly, he had a few books on the coffee table, and a yellow one in his hands.
“I apologize for going through your library,”
You can’t fight the smile that comes to your face, taking the seat next to him as you reach to take a look at the title.
“No worries. Curious as to why you’re reading Nancy Drew, though,”
“Oh? Oh,”
He glances at the cover with you, smile starting on his lips.
“It is a mystery novel, I do enjoy the genre. Interesting story,”
“Enough to not sleep?”
“I couldn’t sleep,”
He confesses, closing the hardcover book over and setting it with the others.
“I’m sorry,”
You raise a hand, intentions to set it on his thigh, but quickly run it through your hair.
What were you thinking?
“You can…uh, just hang out on the couch all day, if you wanna. Sometimes that makes me feel better,”
You stand, and he joins you, following you into the kitchen as you begin to rummage through your fridge.
“Do you have plans for the day, y/n?”
“Not really. I might have to run to the grocery store later, though. We gotta get something in this thing,”
You kick the door shut with your foot, then venture over to the cabinets.
“We can go back to the schoolhouse, if you’re up for it. Maybe we can get some new information up on the board.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like for today to be about you, instead of me.”
The sentence gets your heart thumping so wildly that you’re sure he can hear it.
“M’sorry, what did you say, Captain?”
When you turn around, he’s leaning on the counter, shirt sleeves rolled up and his chin resting in his hands.
Staring, intently.
“I would like to get to know you, y/n. It appears that our fates have intertwined, and I am not the sort of person to just use your resources and leave,”
You can see how someone could take that the wrong way, and it’s the first thing that crosses your mind. The blush reaches the tips of your ears as you turn away, digging through the cabinets once more.
“Take me out to dinner first, Nate,”
It’s a joke, you even laugh during it, but it flies right over the Captain’s head.
“May I?”
It sounds so genuine, so sweet, that you’re sure your entire face is covered with a rosy hue.
“Let’s get breakfast, yeah? Then we can talk about dinner later,”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I’m not sure. What do you like to eat?”
“Bread.”
He shrugs, shoulders reaching his ears.
“Oh, you can’t be serious.”
“I lived on war rations for a good while, y/n,”
He says, and there’s no maliciousness behind it, he’s being honest.
“I may have…hm, I have pancake mix in here somewhere…”
“May I help you?”
Nathan has a thing for standing very close to you, so you’ve observed. When you pull back, he’s nearly attached at your hip, eyes wide and very very interested in what you’ve got in your hands.
“Sure,”
You say happily, turning the box over to see if you have what you need.
“You’ve had pancakes, yeah? They were invented a long time ago, I think.”
“Possibly not this version, but yes, I do recall having these before,”
It makes you feel somewhat better, because at least he’s eating and it’s somehow something that he’s had before. Bonus.
“So, y/n,”
He’s becoming nothing but a flirt, and you aren’t positive if he’s doing it purposefully or not.
“Yes, Nate?”
He pauses to think, as if he wasn’t sure what he was going to say before he started the sentence. He then sighs.
“I’ve got nothing here, help a lad out.”
Digging for a mixing bowl, you grab a whisk on your way back over to the counter.
"What do you want to know? I mean, there’s not much that we haven’t already gone over.”
“But I find this all so fascinating!”
He starts, and something makes you want to listen. He’s hardly been this talkative since yesterday, as if he had a revelation overnight to make the best of the situation at hand. You had tried, being the least you could do, to make him feel comfortable, maybe even a bit at home?
“I know you seemed a bit distraught yesterday, something change your mind?”
“Of course i’d like to go back, but this is truly a story that not a souls bound to believe!”
You continue to mix the pancakes as Nathan continues on, turning the burner on to begin warming the pan.
“Like I said, somehow our strings of fate have crossed, possibly tied. I want to know how I bested the situation by meeting you, y/n.”
“It could all be a coincidence,”
Shrugging, you can’t help but sadden at the foggy look he gave you as you begin to pour the batter in the hot frying pan.
“Surely, but I don’t think of it such.”
“I’m curious now. Watch the pancakes, make sure they don’t burn,”
Nathan watches you confusedly as you leave the room to grab your laptop. Bringing it back to the kitchen, you open it up and begin to enter your password.
“Is that the device you mentioned yesterday?”
“My computer? Yes, I want to look something up.”
He turns back to the stove, poking at the pancake with the spatula to see if it’s ready to flip. You begin a google search for one ‘Captain Nathan Hale’. Surely there has to be something on this guy, if he was a Captain. When you hit enter, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach, seeing the immediate response in big, black letters.
“Nathan Hale was an American Patriot, soldier and spy for the Continental Army during the American Revolutionary War. He volunteered for an intelligence-gathering mission in New York City but was captured by the British and executed.“
Instinctively, you slam your laptop shut, not able to fight the terrified look on your face.
So that’s why his name sounded familiar.
“My gods, y/n, what is wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Technically,”
You start, feeling like you’re going to puke.
“I have.”
[a/n: yes I had to look up when pancakes were invented for this. I. love. this. man. the plot thickens. love y’all always, xoxo. mwah ❤️]
#sul writes#turn amc#turn washington's spies#nathan hale#nathan hale x reader#nathan hale headcanons#ideal location#female reader
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Figaro Chibis
Title: Wounded Wizard
Leader Skill: Not the Coolest
Mission Skill: A Doctor Neglecting Health?
Preview: While usually detached, Doctor Figaro will fight until tattered for his allies.
Voice Clip: “A doctor getting injured really isn’t cool, is it?”
Description: It’s not cool for a doctor to get injured, is it? But don’t worry about me. When you live as long as I have, you get used to things like this, or something. ….Ah, but if the Master Sage takes care of me, I’ll perk right back up.
Title: Mid-training Wizard
Leader Skill: The Role of the Southern Teacher
Mission Skill: Doctor Figaro’s Lesson
Preview: The pure-black training cloak is very cool. Today as well, Figaro is protecting those cute brothers by encouraging friendly competition.
Voice Clip: “First off, let’s practice how to smile.”
Description: You want me to teach you magic? Sure, I’ll teach you, but I can’t use any strong magic, so I’d be happy if you didn’t expect too much from me. …It’s true, you know?
Title: Loves Cleaning
Leader Skill: Overseer
Mission Skill: Hiding Something in the Cabinet
Preview: Figaro in an apron. He wants to be praised by the Flores brothers, so today he’s doing his best with the cleaning.
Voice Clip: “I wonder if they’ll find the alcohol I hid in the cabinet.”
Description: The cleaning in here is so crowded and noisy it feels like a schoolhouse. Alright, Doctor Figaro won’t slack off in making sure nobody else slacks off today.
Title: Southern Wizard
Leader Skill: Doctor of Southern Country
Mission Skill: Master of Injections?
Preview: Figaro in his normal outfit. He likes it because it’s easy to trust someone in a white coat.
Voice Clip: "Where are we going today?"
Description: Well? This is the usual me. Aren’t I the swaggiest doctor? Hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m not playing dress-up, this is who I really am. Would you like to make sure?
Title: Cat Robe Wizard
Leader Skill: Aren’t I Cute?
Mission Skill: As Noisy as a Stray
Preview: Figaro likes the cat ears so much he wants to try conversing in cat language, but Rutile’s the only one who will go along with it.
Voice Clip: “It’s kind of cute, isn’t it?”
Description: A cat robe… It’s kind of cute, isn’t it? Watch this. Meooow! Oh, come on! I know my dear, sweet twins aren’t looking at me like that!
Title: Southern Festival Wizard
Leader Skill: Our First Journey
Mission Skill: Does it Make Your Heart Race?
Preview: Figaro is wearing clothes for the Southern Festival. The decorations at his waist jingle when he moves, making it easy to tell where he is.
Voice Clip: “Aren’t I cool?”
Description: These are very nice, Southern clothes. And because the land’s spirits love the land’s wizards, wearing these clothes will definitely make the spirits fall in love with Doctor Figaro. Come on, Master Sage, slowly, just like us wizards, let’s go.
Title: Army Clothes Wizard
Leader Skill: I Won’t Let You Down Again
Mission Skill: Straight-Forward to the Future
Preview: Figaro clad in army clothes. Rutile and Mitile think it suits him, but he’s a little conflicted even while being happy about it.
Voice Clip: “You can change other’s perception of you just by dressing in different clothes. It’s as simple as that.”
Description: You can’t deny Chloe’s ability, but I wonder if I can wear such gallant clothes. I’m just a simple, gentle Southern wizard, you see. ...I look dignified? It suits me? Huhhh… Really?
Title: Neon City Wizard
Leader Skill: Freedom From Loneliness
Mission Skill: What’s Beyond the Miracle of Happiness
Preview: Figaro in clothes of a neon city. It’s a different white coat than usual, and the goggles replacing the stethoscope match it perfectly.
Voice Clip: “Why are you staring at me like that?”
Description: This white coat is a little different than a doctor’s white coat. It’s more like the clothes of a professor, or maybe a researcher. Master Sage, would you prefer me to be a shy researcher or a sociable doctor?
Title: Sparkling Sky Wizard
Leader Skill: Visiting Good Children
Mission Skill: Souvenir Grape Juice?
Preview: Figaro dressed just like the sparkling skies. Is the purple liquid he’s drinking grape juice, or…?
Voice Clip: "Will these clothes help me savor the Christmas spirit?”
Description: Here is your present, Master Sage. I bought it at the festival in Brightsky Town. No need for modesty - just like the Santa Claus of your world, it’s the job of adults to give good kids a reward for trying so hard.
Title: Banquet Wizard
Leader Skill: They’re All the Real Me
Mission Skill: A Night Like a Dream
Preview: Figaro clad in clothes for Walpurgisnacht. There are rumors that the pattern shifts just like the real night sky.
Voice Clip: ”Do your best at asking, alright?”
Description: These clothes are very wizard-like. Perfect for a night like this. …Haha, no matter what guise I take, I’m still me. Now, shall we enjoy this dreamlike night?
Title: Formalwear Wizard
Leader Skill: Blessings to a Good Wizard
Mission Skill: To Forge a Path to the Future
Preview: Figaro in formalwear to commemorate the 1st Anniversary. He’s happy because he thinks holding flowers makes him look like a kind person.
Voice Clip: “What nice clothes. Shall I be on my best behavior today?”
Description: Don’t you think these white clothes are a perfect representation of how sincere I am? Well, jokes aside, I’d like you to believe the feelings of gratitude I have towards you are the honest truth.
Title: White Wizard
Leader Skill: Your Hand, Please
Mission Skill: A Smile That Can’t Be Grasped
Preview: Figaro in formalwear. The white fabric is covered in magnificent embroidery, and exudes more adult sex appeal than usual.
Voice Clip: “Are you nervous?”
Description: Master Sage, are you nervous? I guess these clothes remind you of that time at the party. Here’s my hand. Won’t you take it this time?
Title: Purple Wizard
Leader Skill: Your true nature is?
Mission Skill: A Secret Yet For Us Two
Preview: Figaro enveloped in a purple light. There’s an eyepatch over one of his eyes for the aesthetic. The chest window is kind of uncannily sexy…
Voice Clip: “Don’t these make me look villainous?”
Description: These clothes make me look like a villain, don’t they? Ah, but don’t worry. As you know, I’m the gentle Doctor Figaro, wizard of the Southern Country. Isn’t that right, Master Sage?
Title: Blue Wizard
Leader Skill: Just Like a Knight
Mission Skill: To be Fallen For Again?
Preview: Figaro, an ally of justice. Could you say the blue and white clothes emphasize a purity of heart…?
Voice Clip: “Are you coming to the clinic?”
Description: These clothes do look just like a knight’s. Master Sage, even at the cost of my own life, I shall protect you. …Just kidding. Well? Do I look cool?
Title: Green Wizard
Leader Skill: The World I Want To Leave Behind
Mission Skill: Human and Wizard Coexistence
Preview: Figaro has a soothing, sparkling green aura. As a doctor and as a wizard, Figaro is leading everyone today as well.
Voice Clip: “Good wizards do exist, you know.”
Description: Humans fear wizards. But kind wizards do exist. It’d be good if, one day, the world Rutile speaks of can exist; A world where humans and wizards help each other.
Title: Red Wizard
Leader Skill: Dandy
Mission Skill: Very Kind Doctor Figaro
Preview: Figaro says: ”Don’t you think these clown clothes aren’t suited at all for an honest person like me?”
Voice Clip: “Being annoying is my special skill.”
Description: What gaudy clothes. Though I guess they’re also a bit stylish. Then, shall we go bother- pull a prank on someone? …No, no, we won’t. Because I’m too kind to.
Title: Celebratory Wizard
Leader Skill: An Uneasy Happiness
Mission Skill: Drunk Off This Warm Time
Preview: Figaro in his treasured, personal clothing. He looks happily at each and every present.
Voice Clip: “Well? Have you fallen back in love with me yet?”
Description: This is from Mitile, and this is from Rutile. This one’s from Leno. And thank you for your present as well, Master Sage. Ahaha, I can hardly hold all these feelings. I’ll enlist Oz’s help to carry them. It’s my birthday, after all.
Title: Party Wizard
Leader Skill: Until the End of the Day
Mission Skill: What Goes With Wine
Preview: Figaro dressed up in special clothes. He’s laughing joyfully at the heart of the lively party.
Voice Clip: “I’ve still got life in me.”
Description: Since it’s my birthday, Mitile said he’d forgive me if I drank in moderation. …Haha, even though the day is ending, I feel a little sad to leave it behind. It’s strange, because today and tomorrow are the very same. Master Sage, will you pour me my final drink of the day?
Title: Clinic Wizard
Leader Skill: I’m a Gentle Doctor Wizard
Mission Skill: One Side of The Scales of Rationality
Preview: Figaro in clinical clothing. He places a warm blanket atop the brothers drifting to sleep in his clinic.
Voice Clip: “Everything looks so good on me; I don’t know what to do...”
Description: This is a sketchbook that Rutile and Mitile used, and this is the flowerbed we all made together. This clinic is full of memories for those kids. Today’s another one to add to that stockpile. Haha, this place is overflowing with new memories.
Title: Splendid Clothes Wizard
Leader Skill: You’re Not Ready for Drinking Yet
Mission Skill: Surrounded by Bountiful Harvests
Preview: Figaro in formalwear to commemorate the 2nd Anniversary. The sheep by his feet keeps coming back no matter how many times they’re returned to Lennox.
Voice Clip: “I’m fine with you staring holes into me.”
Description: Are you having fun at the party? I think I’ll drink a little today, too. Alcohol tastes extra special on special occasions. Master Sage, let’s have a toast to a continued heartful everyday.
Title: Starlight Ritual Wizard
Leader Skill: Glowing Tails Connecting the Past and Future
Mission Skill: Now, In the Same Position
Preview: Figaro in the clothes of the Starlight Ritual. His eyes crease peacefully as he talks of nostalgic memories.
Voice Clip: “These kinds of clothes aren’t too bad.”
Description: Everyone’s wishes and this scenery somehow bring back a lot of memories. Though my birthday is a day I have repeated many times in my life, what happened today will become an irreplaceable memory. Thank you, Master Sage.
Title: Tanabata Party Wizard
Leader Skill: Weaving a Golden Path
Mission Skill: To the Night Sky’s Sea Where We Dance Together
Preview: Figaro dressed up for Tanabata. He’s smiling while saying it feels like he’s clad in the night sky.
Voice Clip: “Don’t I look like a fairy of the stars?”
Description: The tree in the entryway looks beautiful covered in everyone’s wishing stars. Though I wonder what kinds of wishes everyone has put up, it’ll be more fun to see them at the Tanabata party. So, Master Sage, have you decided on your wish yet?
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heart Bound: CHAPTER XXV
Heart Bound on AO3
CHAPTER XXV — Fighting Back
******************
Her expectations have come to pass. However, now that the anticipation is over, every fiber of her being blazes like a stoked furnace.
She was correct. He wants her gone. And he will force his way to get what he wants.
Among the other council members, Marco seems the most shocked. “You wish to discharge Miss Swan? On what grounds?”
Spencer crosses his arms over his chest. “She is inadequate.”
“Inadequate? How?” Pastor Hopper adjusts his spectacles. “I have heard much praise from the children’s parents. After all, she passed the probation period, and it has only been several months since she began her post. Rome was not built in a day. We should give her some time.”
“Time? And money, I presume? My money.” Spencer’s voice hardens. “I know that the townspeople contributed what they could to the funds reserved for her salary. Please let me remind you that more than half of those funds were my donation. I refuse to waste more of them on a person who does not know what she is doing!”
“You do not say how she has failed,” Marco argues. It warms her heart to see him rise to her defense, but it also worries her. A powerful, resourceful man is a dangerous enemy. “I see happy faces come from her schoolhouse. She is patient and understanding.”
“You are a witness, are you?” he fires back. “Do tell, sir - have you ever set foot in that place while class was in session? No? Well, I have, and I do not second your account. This, then, is a secondhand tale from whom? Your son?”
August jumps to his feet. “You have no right to criticize Emma. She has been a saint, working every day without complaint.”
Spencer laughs. “Is that your definition of good work? Discipline? It means nothing if the quality of the work is poor and lacking. But I am not surprised. Perhaps that is why you and your wood carvings are still in Storybrooke and not the city.”
August marches up to the platform until he is right in front of the man, face to face. His hands are clenched into fists and his jaw is tight. “Perhaps. Perhaps that is also why you are rarely here. If people were to see more of you, you might not be mayor for much longer.”
“Is that a threat, carpenter?”
“A promise. I am not an aggressive man.”
“Neither am I. And I always deliver on my promises.”
The air is taut as a bowstring, ready to snap back. She can stand it no longer.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” She passes by both of them and reaches the town council. “Being at the center of this debate, I feel I should address these accusations against me.”
Spencer opens his mouth, but Pastor Hopper holds him at bay with an upheld hand. “Miss Swan, I wholeheartedly agree. Please. The floor is yours.”
Closing her eyes, she takes several deep breaths to ready her resolve. Then she turns around and faces the town, hands clasped in front of her.
She must be meek and reserved. She must stay calm.
She has to get through this.
“Good evening, everyone. You know me as Miss Swan, the schoolteacher here. For several months, many of you have entrusted your children to my care. Every day, they have come to the schoolhouse to study and learn.
“And while there are those,” she glances at Spencer, “who claim I have done nothing to help your children, I know they have come so far since they started their education. Before, they could not read or write. They had never seen numbers or letters before.”
She smiles at a sudden image in her mind. After the Spencer debacle was over and class was dismissed for the day, a little girl named Bertie came up to her desk. All the other children had left. Saying nothing, the child handed her a drawing of the school and her classmates. It was simple and plain, etched in black charcoal, because the town could not afford colored chalk or ink. Under the drawing were the words “You are a great teacher, Miss Swan.”
She folded the paper into quarters and slipped it into her pocket. Now, if she ever feels unsure of her goal, she takes the drawing out and looks at it.
Perhaps hope is only born in the midst of the deepest troubles. That is why Pandora’s box had hope. Hope is needed the most in times of hardship.
Her voice gains conviction, and she takes a long look at the many faces in the room. They are questioning, puzzled. Some of the parents must be wondering why she feels the need to defend herself. Others seem warm and open.
She must convince them. They must believe that she can do this and follow through to the end.
“However, I am happy to report that all the children can now read and write their letters, and they understand counting and sums. No, they cannot read or write entire words yet. They do not know their math facts by heart. But they will! I know they will. I’m hopeful that with enough time and practice, they can learn more and grow these skills. I know we can achieve so much together. I have come to treasure all my students, and I want to help each and every one of them.”
She swallows hard. “I know you sent your children to school because you want the best for them. You want them to have bright futures. As do I. I want to stay and help you all I can. I believe in your children, and I believe in Storybrooke’s future. Please do not let Mr. Spencer send me away. Please let me stay and teach here.”
******************
His heart is pounding, and blood is rushing into his head. He can’t see straight – can’t see anything but Emma, brave and outspoken, beautiful as ever.
She is fighting hard to keep what is hers, what she deserves, and he wants nothing more than to stand by her side. To fight for her, so she knows she is not alone and at least one person believes in her.
Against all reason, he gets up from his seat and rushes toward her. He is about to reach for her hand when he realizes where he is.
All the townsfolk are staring at them. He is right in the middle of a crowded room, and Spencer looks like his eyes are about to bulge from his stupid head.
He coughs and clears his throat, saying the first thought in his mind. “I, uh, I would like to bring something before the council if I may. I know I am a bit late, but there was no opportunity for me to speak up before.”
Spencer scoffs. “How touching. Even the local outcast has an opinion about all this.”
Rubbing at his face with both hands, Pastor Hopper looks as if he has lost all patience. However, he quietly answers, “Yes, Mr. Jones, you can. Quickly, though, if you please.”
This is a daft idea, but it just might work and solve one problem. “About the constable position… The town is trusting Mr. Spencer’s word on Mr. Garrison’s qualifications. And while I am sure he has qualities,” he says through gritted teeth, “I propose that we nominate another candidate – in the spirit of democracy – and let the townsfolk decide whom they trust most to protect this town.”
“Let us guess: you wish to nominate yourself?” Spencer snarls. “I for one cannot wait to hear how your own qualities measure up.”
“Oh, I most certainly do not,” Killian snaps back. What an arse. “I have another individual in mind. Someone whom everyone here knows and respects. Someone who always has the interests of Storybrooke at heart. I move to nominate David Nolan for constable.”
Their audience gasps as a whole, breaking into an uproar of chatter and loud whispers.
Emma turns toward him. Sad and shaken, she stares into his eyes. Then, against all odds, her lips turn upward into a small, unmistakable smile.
His courage surges.
“You all know David as an upstanding, model citizen. He upholds law and order. He cares about people, and he loves this town. He loves his family. No one could be more qualified than he is.”
“I agree. I second the motion.” Arms crossed over his chest, August looks quite intimidating as he also glares at Spencer. “Let Nolan have a chance to be the constable, not some stranger.”
“No one else in town is about to be evicted from his farm if he doesn’t pay his mortgage.” Spencer draws closer to Killian. The damn bastard makes his skin crawl. “Mr. Garrison may be a stranger, but he has a clear record and no debts. The council has already accepted him. In any case, what makes you think he will agree to this ridiculous plan of yours? It’s not like he volunteered–”
“I’ll do it.” David jumps up. “I’d be honored to run for constable.”
He marches forward until he is right in front of Spencer. Killian has never been more proud of his friend.
“You are absolutely right, Mr. Spencer. My farm is everything to me. It is my father’s legacy, and my brother died for it. You know that well enough.” He leans toward the evil scum’s face. “But if you think you can use my land as a way to buy my silence, you are wrong. Take it. Take all of it. As long as it means I owe you nothing. I would rather beg in the streets than give you what you want.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he whispers back menacingly. Then he raises his voice and exclaims, “Council members, do you hear this? You cannot seriously consider this madness. You chose Mr. Garrison as constable, and the matter is closed. We were discussing Miss Swan, not Mr. Garrison. David Nolan is as fit to be a constable as Mr. Jones here.”
“Just a moment, now.” Marco leans forward. “Perhaps that is the problem, Signore Spencer. Perhaps we should be discussing who deserves to be constable. After all, you only brought one candidate, and we have had no chance to really decide who will be right for the position. Isn’t that right?”
The other council members nod. Pastor Hopper seems visibly relieved. August grins widely.
“This is a serious post, and a town vote sounds more than fair between two likely candidates. Don’t you agree?” He frowns. “Or are you suggesting the people have no say in this?”
George Spencer’s bloody face is burning red, as if he might burst from rage. “No, of course not,” he finally sputters. “The town must have their vote. One week from today.”
“Magnifico. It is decided, then.” Marco raises his hand. “All in favor?”
******************
Killian can hardly contain himself as he strides forward and claps David on the back. He shakes his hand and congratulates him, but he doesn’t know what else to say.
Heaven help them both if this turns into a godforsaken mess.
Together, they have thrown the town in an uproar. Spencer cannot leave the room quickly enough, Garrison following meekly behind him at a safe distance.
Townsfolk are coming up and surrounding David by the dozen. Their voices overwhelm him like a engulfing wave. Mary Margaret is not far behind.
“Well done, Jones.” August comes and extends his hand. Killian hesitates before accepting the handshake. He knows nothing about this lad, but he seems like a decent fellow. “You just saved us from a terrible mistake.’
“Aye, but that doesn’t mean Spencer won’t still try to get his way.”
“Oh, he will try, but the tiger is back in his cage for now. That’s some victory right there.” He turns his head and fixes his gaze on Emma. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I must speak to.”
******************
Ladies and gentlemen, I have returned!!!! Let me know what you think of my comeback here or on A03! Drop me a note, ask or DM if you'd like to chat. Links to the entire fic are below.
Chapter 26
Heart Bound on AO3
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Alpha's Addiction - Chapter 30b
*Warning Adult Content*
Koa
"I am your mate, Koa."
"But you have a whole betrothal going on now."
"That means nothing to me."
"It might, one day," I shrug.
I know it's a low jab but I can't help it.
This shit has been weighing on me since I found out.
The crease between his eyebrows deepens.
"How can you say that?"
I look down, lip trembling as his hands run up my forearms, cupping my elbows.
He doesn't know why I'm like this.
How much I'm holding inside.
Zacan, my infertility, the abuse I went through... all of which cripple my ability to stand confidently at his side.
"Cyrus. I need... I need to tell you something..."
A loud, blaring horn rings out, piercing my eardrums with its intensity.
It takes one look at the change in expression on Cyrus's face to tell that something is wrong.
"Cyrus? What's going on..."
I don't have time to finish my sentence before he's picking me up and throwing me like a rag doll over his shoulder.
I yelp in surprise as he takes off in the direction of the Pack house.
I've never moved so fast in my life.
The trees and all our surroundings blur past, dizzying me combined with the blood rushing to my head.
I close my eyes, burying my face into his back and scrunching my eyes shut.
I'm scared.
I don't know what the hell is happening or why Cyrus is sprinting like a madman and holding me in an iron grip.
He doesn't stop until we're through the doors of the Pack House, which is in chaos.
There are warriors everywhere, suited up and equipping their weaponry alongside those who have already shifted into their wolves.
Civilians and pups are being ushered into rooms and sealed in.
Cyrus bolts up the stairs and nausea overcomes me at the jarring jolts it sends through my body.
Why the hell is he carrying me like this?
I have working legs, for the Moon Goddess' sake.
"Put me down, you ass. Right now," I screech, smacking at his back as my head spins.
Only when he reaches my door does he obey.
I gasp, holding my chest as my stomach churns.
He pulls a key from his pocket and opens it.
"Hey. Why do you have a key to our room?"
He doesn't answer, only pushing me inside.
"Why Cyrus. What the fuck?"
I stumble backwards, almost falling.
"We're under attack, Koa. You must remain here. It's the safest place you can be right now."
"What? What about Oliver?"
Everything is happening so fast and I can barely process what he's saying.
"The pups at the school are always guarded by skilled warriors. There's a shelter beneath the schoolhouse with sufficient supplies that they'll have herded the pups into by now. He's safe, I assure you."
It strikes me how prepared Cyrus is, even with this attack springing up out of the blue.
My mind is whirling, contemplating so many possibilities at once but the only thing I can say is...
"I'll come with you."
"No," Cyrus immediately refuses, his tone harsh and with that I'm pissed.
"Excuse me?"
"You'll remain here, where no harm can come to you."
"But I can fight. You've been teaching me..."
"No, Koa. I will not risk you like this," he insists, voice raising but I refuse to listen to this bullshit.
"This is my choice to make, not yours."
"I'm sorry," he shakes his head and I'm about to retort that I don't accept his stupid apology when he goes back out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
I hear a clicking sound from the other side of the wood and run to the door, grabbing the handle and attempting to yank it open but it won't budge.
I realize, in fury, that he's locked it.
He's locked it from the outside with that fucking key of his.
I scream in frustration, pounding on the door.
"Cyrus. Get back here. Let me out."
No answer.
I push off from the door, fuming as I pace across the room.
All the people I care about are outside, exposed to the attack right now, while I'm in this protective little bubble.
It's not fair to them.
I cannot wait here like a sitting duck, when warriors that really have no obligation to me are risking their lives for my safety.
No, no.
I just can't let this happen.
I run to the window, pulling it open.
I know we're on the second floor but I estimate the distance to the ground, scanning for any scaffolds down the side wall of the Pack House.
I come up empty but upon looking from side to side I spot a fire escape.
Despite its rickety looking appearance, it's my best bet at getting down to the ground.
I just need to make the few feet distance to it horizontally.
I'm still in my fighting garbs from training, so I don't bother with attire.
I snatch the knife Oliver used to kill our attacker in our escape from the Blood Pack out from the desk drawer.
His blood still lingers on it, flaky and brown from oxidation.
I stuff it in my waist sheath.
I open the cabinet to grab one of my herb mixtures, a mustard seed powder that if put in contact with the eyes or inhaled can be significantly debilitating.
With nothing else to do, I climb up onto the window sill.
The venture to the fire escape is surprisingly pretty fast, with me almost falling to my death only once.
There was thankfully a ledge for me to edge myself across while I held onto a pipe nailed against the structure.
I'm shaky when I finally get down the creaky stairs of the fire scape, not completely over my almost fall just now.
Cyrus would be so angry.
Oh, I can never tell him about this.
I remind my wolf that this stays between us and he enthusiastically agrees.
Then we are off into the attack.
I will fight for this Pack.
1 note
·
View note
Text
random game roundup
Wand Wars - $11
Included in Bundle for Ukraine
this is pretty neat. wand wars is a party game about being wizards shooting a magic orb at each other and the last one standing wins. this has to have far more staying power as a multiplayer game but, alas, i am by my lonesome. i didnt love the control scheme (does really feel like it wants to be a twin stick shooter and not something played on keyboard). also it really bugged me that the projectile wasnt pixellated when everything else was. wand wars kinda fits the niche of a good boutique board game IMO, fun to break out with nerd friends at some nerd gathering
Baldi's Basics Plus - $10
Included in Bundle for Ukraine
my commitment to the premise of this project being vastly outweighed by how much i dont actually want to play baldi's basics. i could have hit random again and nobody would be the wiser
so i guess my take is roughly that im in the exact nostalgia bait audience for baldi's basics (i played tons of these edutainment games in elementary school) but its specifically aping so much of its aesthetic and presentation from sonic's schoolhouse which i cant imagine had a widespread school computer lab adoption. if someone made a off-color video game inspired by Disney's Adventures in Typing with Timon & Pumbaa or smth that would probably actually get somewhere. for me. also i hate jumpscares and YOU DONT EVEN SOLVE MATH PROBLEMS IN THIS ONE???? WHATS THE POINT
this is not a good review for baldi's basics sorry. i like that the camera controls are vertically locked even tho the game makes a lot of other concessions for a modern audience. and there really is nothing else in its genre that looks like this
Valfaris - $24.99
i cannot for the life of me figure out why i own this game.
ok first things first the art direction in this fucks insanely. it feels like a ps1 game in a way many other ps1 throwbacks don't. i really enjoyed looking at valfaris.
however this controls like SHIT and not in a way that i think would be fixed by a controller. i spent a couple minutes rebinding my controls so it isnt arrow keys to move and q/w for main attacks (this randomly reset to default at some point so that was cool) and i was still fighting for my life to actually accomplish what the game wants me to. there's a segment only a few seconds into the first level where you need to climb on ropes over some evil dogs to cross a ledge but 1. the dogs can jump up and attack you and 2. you can only aim your gun straight down. and the dogs respawn infinitely so you cant jump into the dog pit, slaughter them all and continue on your way. i legitimately could not get past this section because the controls were so ass. really unfortunate.
also the game has "wishlist the sequel" as one of its three menu options which: lmao
Thou Shalt Be Brave - $1
Included in Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality
this is a micro-rpg that is imo unfortunately hamstrung by its gimmick (the really small resolution). theres some really bad readability issues happening in this game. there is a manual on the itch page which helps a lot in combat but its really hard to excuse the "you sease lok s" message you see constantly.
this is pretty light on gameplay also but its generally a pretty fun timewaster. you explore the woods and fight guys and the ultimate goal appears to be maxing all your stats. i just wish i wasnt examining every button like it was a cryptic glyph to decipher
Planets Under Attack - $11.99
you know its bad when ive had this game on steam for over 10 years and have no idea what it is
i'm not sure how to describe planets under attack. it's a very minimalistic strategy game about spending resources to take over planets in each map. it seemed pretty chill but i did kinda feel like i was wasting my time playing it. the presentation is really competent and overall i think this is the strongest of the five games i played today
#random game roundup#wand wars#baldi's basics plus#valfaris#thou shalt be brave#planets under attack
1 note
·
View note
Text
A teacher assistant job!
So far, Leaf had been in the world of ToonTown for…about 1 month and 2 weeks maybe? She needed to keep a calendar around to keep proper track of time. Time had really been going by fast, she had been helping fight Cogs with the other Toons, still not allowed to fight Manager Bossbots though. But she had made great progress on her speaker and helping the Toons with Boardbots. She even had a backpack to hold her Sound Gags. She also had managed to pick up some Toon-Ups.
Of course, Leaf did need a break from battling. The battles were no doubt a highlight of her time here, being great fun and all but she was tired. So, without a second thought, she took out her map, looked over it until she found her marking and started to head towards the schoolhouse.
Outside, many different types of Toons were playing and rough housing. Leaf chuckled softly. They also were using tinier versions of gags on each other. How sweet…
Leaf approached the doors and entered the school, approaching the main teacher. They were dressed in your typical teacher's outfit. They were a rather soft, blue cat. “Hiya there, sir,” Leaf smiled, reaching out her hand. “I’m here for the teacher’s assistant job,” Leaf explained to the teacher. “Ah, took a lot less time than expected!” The teacher exclaimed, looking rather excited.
“My name’s Professor Pete. You?”
“I’m Leaf!” Leaf smiled, shaking his hand.
“Oh wait! You’re that human that’s been running about helping The Resistance, I think…right?” Professor Pete asked.
“That I am, sir!” Leaf smiled, bowing a little.
“Well, you’ve definitely been doing good. For a human,” Professor Pete teased, poking Leaf in the shoulder and causing her to laugh.
“Why thank you! I-It’s been a bit of a struggle, I actually got a serious injury about a week ago. It was a Two Face’s Razzle Dazzle. It…it gave me a pretty bad burn on my arm. It’s still healing up actually. There was also how I tried to fight uhm…I think one of the Boardbot Managers. I got hit very, very hard and had to sit the fight out. My other arm has a bad bruise from that. But, y’know, I always cover up, almost completely!” Leaf chuckled at this.
Leaf squeaked, hearing a knocking just below her feet. She slammed her foot on the ground, causing Professor Pete to chuckle. “Don’t worry about that, it’s just the heater. It’s a very loud heater.”
“A-Ah! Gotcha!” Leaf nodded.
“Now then, about that Teacher’s Assistant job. Follow me, my classroom is just over here.” Leaf quickly caught up to Professor Pete and glanced around his classroom. The colors were just as wacky as outside the building. There was also a very, very strange clock on the wall. The actual hands were off the clock. Guess there was no way of missing where the clock hands were…
Just as Professor Pete finished showing Leaf around, the bell rang. Giggling filled the building. Leaf stood by the door as the class came in and started to get seated. Pete sat in his chair, clearing his throat. The children must’ve been pretty young as they hushed up rather quickly and watched Professor Pete. “Okay class, so, we have a new edition to our classroom. Please say hello to Leaf,” He gestured to Leaf with a gentle smile on his face.
Almost immediately, Leaf felt rather anxious, giggling sheepishly as she waved back to the kids. She never knew with kids, they typically had 0 filters.
“Woah! It’s the- the pale thingy!”
“His hair is so green!”
“She’s so tall!”
“It’s a boy! It’s so obvious!”
“Nuh-uh! She’s clearly a girl! Look how long her hair is!”
“But Green is a boy color!”
“Nuh-uh! It's a girl color!”
“Yeah-uh! Girls don’t like green!”
“I like green!”
Professor Pete stood up, shouting, “1, 2, 3, eyes on me!” He clapped along to his words. When that didn’t work, he made a gesture with his hand, “Quiet Coyote!!” He shouted. The kids snapped to attention, copying the hand signal. “Thank you, she’s my new teacher assistant so you’ll probably be seeing her more often.”
“Okay!!” The Class said.
“Now, can we give a proper hello to Leaf?”
There was a mix of ‘Hi’s and ‘Hello’s between the class. These kids were like little angels! Better well behaved than any other kid that Leaf had personally seen.
Then there was that banging from under Leaf under. Leaf glared slightly at the ground and stomped her foot slightly in response. “Shut up, Heater!” One kid shouted in response.
“That’s not very nice to say. We don’t say shut up, we say…?” Leaf started, glancing anxiously at the Professor as she said this. “Oh! Right, be quiet, please, Heater!” The kid repeated.
“Good job, Leaf. Okay Class, we have a worksheet today so if you have any questions, please ask me or Leaf,” Professor Pete explained and handed Leaf some papers to give to the class. Leaf did so, making small talk as she did.
As she got to the back, she noticed a student that hadn’t said a word. She was a dusty pink, and had stripes that were darker, almost like a tabby’s. She also had white accents all over and a long, cord-like tail. “...Hi there, what’s your name?” Leaf asked, sitting down as she passed them a sheet of paper. “Oh, uhm, hi,” the cat said, turning her reddish green eyes towards Leaf, writing down her name. Eira. “Ear-a…”
“It’s eye-ra.”
“Oh! Eira, okie,” Leaf smiled before walking back to the front of the class. The class quickly began to work on the worksheet, asking Leaf questions about the work and her life back at home. Leaf happily answered these questions.
“Okay class, now that we’re-...” Professor Pete stopped, noticing that the chalk he was using was…gone. Completely. “Oh…great, uhm, Leaf? Could you head down to the basement and get some more chalk please?” Professor Pete asked.
Leaf nodded quickly and left the room. Professor Pete’s voice spoke back up to explain the lesson to the class, even without the chalkboard readily available.
Leaf approached the basement doors and opened the door carefully. The walk down the stairs wasn’t too bad and, when she got down there, there were a few rooms. One labeled the storage and-...there were voices behind the other door. Leaf opened the door as quietly as she could and took a peek. She couldn’t see them yet. Leaf paused before closing the door behind her. She moved behind the chairs.
“I’m telling you! This machine will help the Cogs take over ToonTown once and for all!” The voice sounded…a little pompous. Before her was a large room, almost like a choir room. There were many rows of green chairs. There were cobwebs all over in this room.
There was an answering muttering that Leaf couldn’t quite make out. That was a Cog from what Leaf could barely see. Leaf made her way to the stairs carefully, hiding behind the seats from time to time…wait, was that purple cog just talking to dummies? Like…test dummies? No, their emblem was glowing. Just as she reached the final step, Leaf suddenly slipped! Like an idiot, she hit the back of her head on the stairs. “Ouch!!”
The main, purple cog spun around rather quickly, looking a little shocked. “Wha-!?” Leaf held her head and groaned softly. She opened an eye and shined a nervous smile as she waved at the Cog. “O-Oops…hi there,” Leaf looked back at what she slipped on, a banana peel. Oh, guess Cogs could use them too…
“Oh. Goodie,” The Cog rolled his eyes, “An eavesdropper…” He crossed his arms. “Bet you didn’t expect me to place that ‘Gag’ on the stairs, huh?” He seemed rather smug. Leaf just tilted her head. He talked like he had expected Leaf to know who he was. “...Uhm…I’m Leaf!” Leaf said with an anxious smile.
The Cog just huffed, “Don’t recall asking but fine. I’m Brian, but you can call me Prethinker. That’s all you need to know anyways,” He waved his hand slightly. “I’ll assume you’re here to stop my plans! Aren’t you?” Leaf tilted her head before glancing up at the large chalkboard. Upon it were quite the machine blueprints. Something about mind control…
“Stop your plans? Like the plans on that chalkboard?” Leaf asked.
“Other plans! Duh, I know your tricks, kid,” Prethinker said, still invading her space. Leaf shoved his face away with her hand, “Dude. Personal space buddy. Seriously, ever heard of it?” Leaf asked Prethinker.
Prethinker looked rather offended by what Leaf did, “Oh whatever. Let me ask you a question, kid,” “And stop calling me a kid. I’m a young adult, I have a job as a teacher’s assistant,” Leaf matched Prethinker’s crossed arms with her own. “Ooohoho! So we’re playing smart now are we!?” Prethinker would’ve had a very angry smile on his face if he had a mouth. “Why yes, in fact, I am,” Leaf walked over to the chalkboard and leaned against it. “Prick.”
“Shut up. Just shut up. Let me ask you a question, kid,” Prethinker cocked his head to the side with clear sass.
“No.”
“What’s the difference between- N-No? NO!?”
“Correct. No. Had to check to see if you had ears. Guess you do.”
Prethinker seemed to be rather angry, just glaring before huffing.
Leaf returned to his gaze. ‘He looks like he just picked up on me trying to make him angry. He’s probably gonna give me the silent treatment until I beg him to talk or something…’ Leaf hummed and looked back at the plans behind her. She then erased a single sentence. That got him talking.
“Hey! Don’t you even think about erasing my plans! Those plans took more thinking than you’ve ever had to do in your entire human life,” Prethinker quickly rewrote the sentence. “...You know what a human is? That’s new…” Leaf noted.
“Of course, it’s the biggest difference between Toons and Suits! Intellect! All of those Toons are all brawn and no brains!”
“I’m pretty sure Toons have a brain actually-.”
“WOULD YOU STOP THAT!? It’s a figure of speech!”
“What? Stop what?”
“You’re being a smart*ss and you know it!” Prethinker shoved his finger near Leaf’s face. Leaf looked a little sick as she watched Prethinker’s brain turn red but she still had to continue.
“Hahahah!! You called me smart!”
“Whatever! All of those Toons are all bark and no bite! But-.”
“They don’t all-.”
Prethinker shoved Leaf before she could finish her sentence. He then cleared his throat, adding some more things onto his plan. “But Suits, such as myself, are smarter than you could ever dream of being!”
“I wouldn’t say that to a human. I’m pretty smart for my age…I-I studied constantly on uhm…weather,” Leaf smiled.
“Oh please, I bet you’re one of those idiots who think fire tornados are possible. Aren’t you?”
“Possible but they aren’t real tornados! Also, it’s a fire whirl^^!” Leaf smiled.
“Hmfp, okay then, what’s the safest place in a hurricane?”
“The eye!” Leaf covered one of her eyes. “Wait- no.”
“HA!” Prethinker started laughing. “The Eye? Are you kidding me?”
“Okay then, my turn, hm…how about something about animals? I love animals…”
“Fine then. Hit me.”
“...” Leaf began to think before racing more of the board and writing down her question and then reading it out.
“What’s the scientific name for a Pine Tree?”
“You said Animals…” Prethinker glared at the question before erasing it and rewriting what was originally written on the board. “Oh right.”
Prethinker huffed, “Exactly. I see living around those Toons has already made you rather forgetful. Won’t be much longer. It’s a cycle. Forever repeating,” Prethinker started, watching Leaf think of a question.
“...A cycle?” Leaf asked, turning towards Prethinker.
“Oh. You don’t know?” Prethinker merely chuckled. “You’re not the first human this town has claimed…” Prethinker said with disgust in his voice.
“...What…?” Leaf couldn’t hide the worry in her eyes.
“You heard me. You’re not the first human this town has claimed. It happens once in a blue moon, a human shows up, then they mysteriously disappear. Interestingly, a new Toon, or Cog, shows up here. Have you connected the dots now? What side do you think you’ll end up on when it’s your turn?”
Leaf shook her head and wrote her question quickly, repeating it, “How do Goblin Sharks catch their prey?”
“You’re avoiding the question, Leaf. There’s nothing you can do to stop the cycle, kid. That’s the problem with humans. They’re all too prideful of themselves to learn that one day, there will be nothing left of them…” Leaf started to shake.
“Answer my question and then I’ll answer yours.”
“Hmfp! Fine then, they dislocate their jaws and launch it forward…it’s quite horrific. Now answer my question…”
“...I don’t know. I personally hope a toon, especially with this,” Leaf revealed her speaker.
“Whatever that does, it won’t help you! Or any of ToonTown, in fact,” Prethinker smugly approached the board. “My machine will mind control every single Toon with a single shot! I took inspiration from H. Lesser! He’s trying to make a Toon called…Iris or something and whatever…” Prethinker smirked. “I would actually test it on you if I had built it! But, y’know, I just made the blueprints. Admit it, you’re useless! There’s nothing you can do to stop me!! Heh! Hehehhe!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Prethinker cackled loudly.
Leaf had genuinely started to get annoyed with Prethinker’s smugness. Hm…he seemed prideful of these plans. Leaf looked back over at Prethinker with a dumb smile on her face.
“Hm? What’s with the dumb smile? What. Are you going to try to escape the room or something? Believe me, you’re not leaving,” Prethinker’s pupils shrank, giving off the vibes of a crazed smile.
Leaf shook her head and instead turned to the plans and then looked back at Prethinker. “...” The direct eye contact unsettled Prethinker. With the discomfort shining in his eyes, Leaf raised the eraser and erased the entire board, her smile growing wider as she did.
The look of absolute horror came onto Prethinker’s face.
Leaf smiled and waved goodbye, “Bye-bye, Brian~!” Leaf ran up the stairs and left the room before Prethinker even had a moment to realize she was gone.
#toontown#ttcc#toontowncorporateclash#toontown corporate clash#toontown corporate clash oc#toontowncoporateclashoc#ttccoc
1 note
·
View note
Note
OH MAN THE FUCKING FIGHT!!!!
This was fucking awesome, athanasia!!
The description of the fight! Of course! I don't think I've seen or read anything like your fight scenes. They're one of a kind, really. You bring about a certain gracefullness even to the gory scenes, and I have no idea how you do it. I can see it all play out in my head without a moment's confusion. So well described!
And the mixture of guilt, anger, frustration love and adoration that Y/n feels was described in a very very realistic amd pretty way!
And most of all, the sprint she makes towards the alpha's den! Thw description of all the places she usually frequents just whooshing past her as she makes her way to no one but the alpha is so heartwarming. I almost cried. It reminds the readers that all this while, although happy, she's been living by herself. The omeagan 'quarters', the schoolhouse, the dining room, the doctor's, the tailor's places and so on were places she would frequently visit. Places where she's had some kind of a good memory associayes with. And yet, rather than stopping, all she does is make her way towards him! It's such a wonderful description of how she's moving towards, not only Jungkook, but to an entirely new life as well! One where she'll be able to create nee, happuer, much more lo ely memories, all in the same place she's been at throughout her life.
And a little side note : there's this entore bohemian aesthetic that COC has goong on which I am in love with! It's one of the reasons as to why I can read it over and over again. When i think of COC, I think of the smell of rain, of sandalwood. If raw, untainted Earth. And these are very pleasant tones that you've brought about to the story.
You've done a wonderful job with this one, like always!
Loved it!
Your truly,
~ Lily ♡
I’m so pleased to hear you enjoyed the fight scenes! I had hoped to have them be so descriptive that you could “see” them play out as you read them, so I’m happy to hear that you could.
Reader didn’t have as much a role in this chapter and was more a helpless observer, but I was going for that kind of thing given that she wasn’t exactly working with a full deck of cards with the silver all over her. Certainly she had many emotions, but the silver definitely played a part in mollifying her.
I didn’t originally plan to include the whole sprinting sequence. That kind of just… happened. I just let my fingers go and that was the end result. I liked it, so I kept it. I realized that I hadn’t actually given a full description of the compound yet, so I felt like that was actually really necessary given where we are in the story. I am glad you liked it.
As for the “feel” of the story, it’s funny you talk about bohemian vibes. I would say it’s more rustic since these are animals / creatures that live in the woods, and so don’t have access to technology or advanced tools since we are in an older period. The smell you mentioned is interesting because I like to write to certain smells. Sandalwood is one of them. Evergreen/oak/fir trees are another. Really, those earthen scents are ones I feel capture the environment of the story since it is one that is so centered around forestry and the earth.
I’m glad you enjoyed. I told you all that the wait for this one wouldn’t be as long!
1 note
·
View note
Text
btw has anyone ever played this game. its a cornerstone of who i am as a person and i just played it again yesterday and found it interesting.
the normal battles are just you fighting against other dinos (and its like. kinda brutal. they slam each other around) but the like… hidden mini bosses in each level…
???????? who came up with this????
#WHY AM I FIGHTING A SCHOOLHOUSE?#THEY ALL MAKE THE NOISES TOO LIKE THE BUS MAKES BUS NOISES. IT HONKS AND SHIT. THE PHONEBOOTH RINGS#cro talks#i fucking love this game
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Tutor ! ~ Part Two
Pairing : Carlos x fem!reader
Warnings : Foul language, hatred, fighting, name calling, insults, mentions of blood, fistfights, arguing, name calling, making out, kissing scenes, typical enemies to lovers stuff idk.
Plot : You and Carlos have never been able to stand one another. You are a sweet, smart girl - you weren’t always that way but hush - and Carlos is constantly pranking or making fun at you, making you so angry that you almost bring your old self back up, but you always remain calm. However, one day your father tells you that you will be the boys tutor due to him not doing well at school because of all the fights he’d rather get into. This sparks interesting things and interesting conversations to happen between you and Carlos and becomes the beginning of a rocky yet beautiful relationship.
Pronouns used : he/him for Carlos, she/her for reader.
Note : I am not a Spanish native and I don’t know any Spanish, all Spanish nicknames mentioned in this story are translated from google. If anything is wrong PLEASE let me know and I will correct it.
Info : Welcome back to another series! Will it be 2-3 parts, will it be 5-6 parts, will it be 7-8 parts? Who even knows at this point.
Carlos taglist : @tigreost, @try-cry-why-try, @dai-tsukki-desu, @xxhome-is-where-ria-isxx, @elegantkidfansoul, @cassiopeia-black-brenda, @ale-creates-worlds, @eeyahhh, @camilos-mivida, @inky-clover, @belladonna271, @soumya-13, @bxbykayla, @n3r0-1417.
|| prev || part two || next ||
Hate. That’s all you felt. Hate. Anger. Rage. The tutoring sessions were some of the worst times you spent with Carlos. He made you want to strangle him. You’d been tutoring him for around a month now.
Today was no different, you were leaning against your locker as you waited for Emilia to meet you. That’s when you saw a ball flying your way, your eyes widened as you stood frozen, not quite knowing what to do.
A flash of maroon appeared in front of you, catching the ball before it hit your face, your eyes widened as you saw the head of curls with their back to you. He threw the ball with force back to where it came from, earning a “What the hell, dude?” And an “Ow!” From the other end of the corridor.
He glanced over his shoulder at you, “Really, tonta? You couldn’t even duck?” He asked, cocking a brow.
You rolled your eyes, “Shut up, pendejo.” You sighed, seeing Emilia approach, her arm linked with Camilo’s as they approached together.
“So, how did rehearsals go, Juliet?” You asked, staring at your best friend with a smirk.
Emilia laughed, unhooking her arm from Camilos as she opened her locker door and shoved her books inside, “Shoot! I completely forgot that I have to go to the costume department and get fitted for my dress.” She groaned, sharing a look with Camilo before turning to you with a guilty look emanating from her features.
“(Name), can you do me a huge favour and collect Cecilia from school?” She asked you.
You sent a soft smile her way before nodding, “Of course, Emi. You know I love that little girl.” You said happily.
“Ah! Gracias, you’re the best. Listen, we have to dash, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She told you, grinning wildly.
You nodded as a small chuckle escaped your mouth as she grabbed Camilos hand, beginning to drag him towards the costume department in a hurry, “Hey Camilo!” You called, causing the pair to stop. He turned to stare at you, “Look after my girl, okay? Make sure she gets home safe.” You told him.
A sweet smile graced the boys features, “Of course.” He told you, you nodded as you watched her continue pulling him down the corridor.
You span on your heel and began exiting the school, making your way past the crowds of teenagers rushing to get home. You placed your books in your bag as you approached the schoolhouse, you were instantly tackled to the floor by a small but surprisingly strong little girl, “Surprise attack!” She screamed as she sprawled across your stomach as you laid on your back, your body shaking with laughter as she stared at you giggling.
“Okay, okay, you got me.” You grinned, beginning to tickle the youngster.
Carlos watched you from the gate separating the two schools, he leant on the railings and watched your interaction with the little girl.
“Ahh! No, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Cecilia called out through giggles.
Your laughter died down as you stood up and held her hand, “Come on sweetie, let’s get you home.” You sent a warm smile her way as you began walking with her towards the town.
Carlos watched you leave, cocking a brow as he did. You were great with kids, he had to hand it to you. He shook off his thoughts as he began his walk home, easily catching up to his friends who also lived in or around the small town.
You reached Cecilia’s home as she finished telling you about what she’d learnt at school that day, you smiled as you watched her run inside to change. You glanced over your shoulder to see her parents, “Hola señor and señora, Cecilia has just headed inside.” You grinned their way.
“Such a sweet girl, Señorita.” Your best friends mother smiled at you.
“It was a pleasure. Cecilia is like a little sister to me, I love her.” You smiled their way. “I have to go home, but when Emilia gets home tell her that I can’t wait to see the dress for her play.” You smiled their way.
“Of course, cariño.” Emilia’s mother smiled as you bade them farewell and began heading towards your home.
You headed towards casita, hesitantly knocking on the door. It was pulled open by a smiling Pepa who greeted you with a hug before letting you in. “He’s in his room, cariño.” She let you know. “As usual.” She mumbled under her breath, thinking you hadn’t heard.
You sent her a sweet smile as you headed up to the boys room, you pushed the door open and walked in; not even bothering to knock. He sat up quickly, staring at you, “You could’ve knocked, cabróna!” He snapped at you.
You cocked a brow, “Didn’t feel like it.” You shrugged, placing your textbooks on the desk. “Get here so we can learn some science, pendejo.” You told him, opening the textbook.
Carlos muttered some profanities under his breath before heading towards you and pulling out the chair at his desk, taking a seat beside you. You pushed the text book towards him before opening one of his drawers on the side of the desk and grabbing a pen and some paper, “You’ve gotten way too comfortable here.” Carlos stated as he watched you, it seemed like you had quickly learnt where everything was in his room.
A smirk enhanced your features as you shook your head, quickly writing down some symbols from the periodic table and pushing the sheet over to him with the pen. He glanced down at it before cocking his brow, “This is way too easy, they’re all in this big ass book you brought in with you.” He told you.
You cocked a brow before slamming the book shut, “For this activity, you’re not using the book. Now write down which element belongs to each symbol.” You told him, folding your arms over your chest.
“Okay, fine.” He sighed, quickly getting to work on the task you’d given him.
It was an hour later when he began refusing to do the work, you rolled your eyes, he really was testing your patience. “Look, Carlos, I know you can do this. I know that you’re a smart boy.” You groaned.
He cocked a brow, turning his attention to you, “What makes you think that?” He asked you.
“I’ve seen you in school. You’re always handing your homework in, always getting the highest score on quizzes, always wanting to raise your hand to answer the most difficult questions but something always stops you, I’ve even seen you snigger a few times when somebody gets the answer wrong because it’s so obvious. I know that you’re smart, I know that you’re a clever guy but you don’t show that because you’re the quarterback on the football team and you have to keep up your street cred.” You stated, folding your arms over your chest.
“Look, I’m not gonna freaking beg you to do the damn work, alright? Do it, don’t do it, I don’t care. At the end of the day, I still get paid to do this so I truly don’t give a damn.” You shrugged, seeing his bored expression. “You can either get your head down and do the damn work and make this time pass quickly for the pair of us, or you can mess around, not do the work and have this session turn into a five hour session rather than the usual three.” You said, folding your arms over your chest. “It’s your choice.” You told him.
Carlos rolled his eyes, “What got you so uptight?” He blurted out, surprising you a little. “I mean, your dad is a relaxed business owner, your brother attends college in the city, you’re like the epitome of sweetness and light but with me that facade drops. What is it, Castillo? Scared that I might rub off on you? Scared to show everyone else the side you have with me?” He asked.
You could feel your anger building up as he listed off more and more reasons as to why you could be scared. You lunged at him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the nearest wall, causing the chair he was sitting on to tip over as you held the boy against the wall, “You don’t know a damn thing about me. You don’t know the things I’ve fucking done so don’t you dare think that you can get into my head. I’ve done so much worse than you ever have and I’ve dealt with so much worse than you’ve ever had to. I’m doing this fucking job for my father and for your mother. Don’t you dare think that you can get inside my head, don’t you fucking dare think you can do that. It’s too fucking dark in there, even for you.” You snarled at him.
Carlos’ breath hitched, his eyes flickered back and forth before yours as you had him pinned against the wall. For the first time in his whole life, a new feeling erupted inside of him. Fear. He’d never seen you like this. It was as if your eyes had darkened. It was as if you were a whole different person.
You soon stepped back, smoothing down your dress before heading back towards the desk. You grabbed the pen from the floor before throwing it back on the desk and picking the boys chair back up, you sat back down in your seat before staring down at your hands.
Carlos’ feet stayed rooted to the ground where you had left him, he watched you and quickly noticed that your hands were shaking, he took a deep breath as he approached you, grabbing a stuffed animal from a nearby shelf and shoving it into your hands. “Go over there and try to relax and calm yourself whilst I solve this shit.” He told you, pointing towards his bed.
“I’m not gonna do tha-”
“Look, your hands are shaking uncontrollably because you’re angry or scared or whatever, and you’re not gonna be able to do anything until you stop the shaking so you need to relax your body and relax your hands and calm the hell down so go over there, lay down, hug the damn plushie and calm down.” He told you.
You opened your mouth to argue but decided against it and did as you were told, heading towards the boys bed and quickly finding a comfortable spot on it, you curled up and hugged the plushie to your chest whilst trying to calm your breathing, silently hoping and praying for the shaking to stop.
Carlos sat at the desk and began working on the questions you had given him to work through; most of which he already knew the answers to. However, you sure as hell hadn’t gone easy on him, these questions were difficult and really got his brain working, he even had to check the textbook for the answers to a few of them.
A knock sounded at the boys door before it was pushed open.
Dolores peeked her head around the door, “Hola hermano, mami says dinner is ready.” She said quietly.
“Thanks hermana. We’ll follow you down.” He mumbled, taking a glance back at you, seeing you passed out on his bed, hugging the plushie tightly.
He eyed you, you looked so peaceful, like nothing in the world could ever hurt you. He rose from his desk and began leaving the room, closing his door gently behind him, leaving you to sleep peacefully as he headed to join his family for dinner.
Carlos explained to his family that you had fallen asleep and that he would take a plate of food upstairs for you once he was done eating.
And he did just that. Once he’d finished conversing and eating with his family, he grabbed a plate that was wrapped up to keep the food within hot before heading up the stairs. He walked into his bedroom and placed the plate on his desk, quietly.
He turned his head to you, seeing you still curled up on his blankets as soft breaths escaped your mouth, “(Name).” He whispered, shaking you gently. “(Name)!” He called louder, causing you to stir slightly before your eyes flutter open; immediately going wide when you saw his face.
“Crap. I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep, it’s just that…” You began but was cut off.
“It doesn’t matter.” He mumbled shrugging slightly, “Listen, I’ve, uh… I’ve finished.” He let you know.
“Oh, okay.” You nodded, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes before swinging your legs over the side of his bed.
You rose to your feet, leaving the plushie on his bed as you approached the desk, taking your seat once again and beginning to look over his answers. “Almost all of them are right, all except this one…” You pointed out the question.
“How much salt is in the average adult human body?” Carlos read the question aloud.
“Yeah, the answer isn’t two hundred grams. It’s actually two hundred and fifty.” You let him know.
His brows furrowed as he stared at the paper, “Ah, shit, yeah. I completely forgot.” He groaned.
“It’s okay, it’s an easy mistake to make. To be honest, that probably won’t ever even come up in any tests anyway.” You chuckled.
“Look, you missed dinner and I kinda didn’t wanna disturb you so I brought a plate up for you.” He mumbled, gesturing to the plate on the desk.
You stared down at the food before unwrapping it and beginning to eat, “Gracias, pendejo.” You sent a sweet smile his way before continuing your meal.
The tutoring session soon came to an end and you were beginning to gather up your books, you shoved them into your bag as you turned to the taller boy, “You know, if you actually applied this knowledge in school rather than trying to keep up your little badboy act, you might actually start passing.” You let him know, placing a hand to your hip.
He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen is it.” He let you know.
“Look, Carlos, we’ve already established that you’re a smart person. Why is your street cred so important to you? You do realise people can be smart and athletic assholes at the same time, don’t you?” You cocked a brow.
He rolled his eyes once again, “Not in my world.” He told you.
You took a step towards him, “If your friends make fun of you for being smart then they’re not your real friends, Carlos. They’re not worth your time.” You told him.
He stared at you, “Well, what about you? I saw that anger streak of yours today? What happened in your past that was so bad you have all of that rage inside?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest defensively.
“Aaaaand that’s my cue to leave. See ya around, Madrigal.” You mumbled, walking past him and leaving his room.
He watched you go, leaning on the sill of his window as he watched you hurry down the hill, “You’re hiding something, Castillo.” He mumbled to himself, cocking a brow slightly as you disappeared from view. He pushed himself away from his window, staring out into the darkness that had since enveloped you.
“And I intend to find out what it is.”
~ As someone who failed every single subject in school, this is becoming a rather hard series to write 😅😂 But I hope y’all enjoyed it, please lemme know what y’all think, angels! 😘 Stay hydrated, make sure you’ve eaten today, remember you’re loved more than you’ll ever know and stay safe, lovelies! Mwah! 💖
#encanto#disney#disney encanto#carlos madrigal#encanto fic#camilosunshxne#carlos x y/n#carlos madrigal fic#carlos my beloved#carlos encanto#encanto carlos#carlos x reader#carlos madrigal x reader#carlos x you#carlos madrigal fanfic#carlos madrigal supremacy#carlos madrigal x y/n#carlos madrigal x fem!reader#carlos x fem!reader#carlos madrigal x you#camilosunshxne writes#camilosunshxne series#bees fics#bees stories#bee writes
61 notes
·
View notes
Note
Bad Things Bingo request: Memory Loss with the Sides as a pantheon of gods.
Warnings: Memory Lost, description of scars, Virgil not having a good view of how he looks.
Notes: Dude, guys, I accidentally deleted the last few paragraphs and had to rewrite them. I finished this tonight out of spite.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Virgil fucking hated snow.
There was no good thing about snow. Not one damn thing and Virgil was willing to stake his life on that claim. In fact, every good thing about Virgil’s life slowed to a stop when fall ended and the snow started to fall. Snow was cold, killed all of the crops that Virgil spent all year growing, and made travel into town a damn bitch. And, on top of everything else, it made the scars surrounding Virgil’s eyes and temples ache to no end. The only thing that helped with the aches and pains was the medicine that his friend Elliott sold. And where did Elliott sell the medicine?
All the way in town. So, yeah, Virgil hated snow.
He sighed as he climbed out of his bed, the cold from outside seeping into his bones. Virgil’s home was a small one-bedroom house with a small fireplace, a bed that he had pressed against two walls, small knickknacks and gifts placed on shelves that Virgil had built himself, and a small rug in front of the door to the outside. The fire that he had built the night before had gone out, with only glowing embers left in Virgil’s tiny fireplace now. The bowl with half of Virgil’s leftover dinner was left beside his bed, which Virgil immediately grab to slowly pick at.
Virgil glanced over at a small mirror on the wall that Elliott had given him, gently wiping at his eyes and trying his best to avoid his scars. There were deep and rough scars around Virgil’s eyes - as if someone had tried carving them out with a knife but never truly committed to the idea - and two identical thin, deep scars on each of his temples. Virgil’s nose was crooked like it had been broken many times before and one of his eyes didn’t open all the way. He wasn’t the prettiest man ever but, as Elliott had once said, he was just lucky to still be alive. Not that Virgil cared about the scars or how he looked. He honestly just wished that he remembered how he got the damn scars.
Or any part of his life before waking up in the town’s local Doctor’s office. He had woken up nearly five years ago with no memory. Elliott had found him on the outskirts of town, caught in a bright bronze net and left for dead, and had immediately brought him to the town’s Doctor. The town had been gracious enough to provide Virgil with a small house and some land to make a living off of. Virgil had been given far, far more than a poor, ugly man like him ever deserved and he had tried his best to pay the town back ever since. He gave deals to the town folks on his carrots and beets, he did odd jobs in the winter for half the price he charged for out of towners, and when the town announced that they would be making a temple for the God of Family and Safe Havens, Virgil went out and chopped down as many of his own trees that they would need.
Even if Virgil wasn’t sure what he thought about these Gods, he would give everything and anything to the people who had given him a home, their food, and the clothes off their back.
Though, it wasn’t like what he gave was anything special. Though the farmwork he did was hard and backbreaking, the corps flourished under Virgil’s hands. It wasn’t like he ever did anything special. He just did what every other farmer did. Maybe it was just that Virgil did what he loved. Waking up early and going out to work with his vegetables and his two little fruit trees were hard but Virgil loved it so much that anyone who happened to walk onto his land had a good chance of hearing him sing as he worked. As long as what he did made the town happy, Virgil was happy.
Virgil was startled from his thoughts from banging on his door, the excited voice of his best friend calling from outside, “Virgil! Virgil, wake up, wake up!” Virgil yawned shuffled over to the door, opening it with a tired smile. “Hey, Elli. What’s up?”
Elliott beamed at him and surged forward, grabbing Virgil’s arms and making him shiver from the snow and frost on their mittens. “It’s finished! The builders, you know the ones who said that they wouldn’t be able to finish until Spring? The mayor paid them double and they finished! The Temple is opening up tonight and they’re going to be putting out a feast!” They let go of Virgil, stumbling over to the spot on the floor where Virgil’s damp coat, mittens, and gloves had been dumped.
Virgil could only gawk at them, feeling like his brain was having trouble catching up to what Elliott was saying. “It’s finished?! How, when- I haven’t heard anything about the builders starting up again! When did this even happen?!”
“They worked through the night for the last month,” Elliott squealed, practically throwing Virgil’s winter wear at him. “And, dude, I can’t believe I’m even gonna be saying this,” Elliott took Virgil’s hands and said with forced calmness, “the God Patton himself might actually show up.”
Virgil swore that his heart stopped right then and there. Full on, dead stop. “A God?! What the hell are you talking about?! He’s coming here?!”
“It’s this new thing,” Elliott babbled, gesturing at the clothes in Virgil’s arms frantically until Virgil slowly started pulling them on. “It only started in the last few years and only in this country but, recently, whenever a Temple is built, whichever God the Temple is for shows up! They usually mingle for a bit and insist on looking around. I heard that even the God of Logic and all that other stuff showed up in a town a few days away about a month ago! He blessed the town’s teachers, looked around, and then left. People are thinking that the Gods are looking for something or something and that’s why they’re showing up everywhere!”
“Holy shit,” Virgil whispered, pulling his hat on hurriedly. “Holy shit, are you serious?! That’s fucking - we gotta check it out!” He grabbed his boots and practically jammed them on his feet. “We gotta get going now! If we head out now then we can make it to the town by lunchtime! Wait, no, we gotta get an offering! Do you have something to give him? I killed a deer yesterday and I still have its pelt so I’m covered but what about you!?”
Elliott grinned at him and flashed a bright pink ring on their left hand. “I’m good! My Grandma gave me this ring just in case something like this happened before she died years ago. Now come on! We can wait in my house until tonight but we gotta get going!”
Virgil laughed and grabbed Elliott’s hand, pulling them out of the small cabin. “You better have brought your horse and buggy because if I have to walk through all of this snow, I am going to lose it.”
“Of course I did,” Elliott laughed, climbing into the buggy. “And you know that that you could buy a horse of your own from old man Jerry. After you helped him and his wife with that problem they were having, they’d probably give you one for free!” They eyed Virgil’s rising blush with a grin. “And Miss Kitty would give you three buggies for how you helped her with her girlfriend. Heck, she’d give you a carriage!”
“It’s not my fault that I give good advice,” Virgil muttered, ducking his head and trying to get comfortable in his seat. “Besides, Miss Kitty and Jessica’s problem was easy. They just needed to talk, that’s all. I just pointed it out.” He batted Elliott’s arm when he saw them open their mouth to continue talking and - most definitely - continue talking about how Virgil kept getting when it came to giving advice about people’s love lives. “Shut up and get us to town, Elli!”
He ignored Elliott’s laugh and settled back as the horse started making its way back to town. Elliott was just overexaggerating. It wasn’t like Virgil went out looking for people who needed help with their love lives. Just... whenever Virgil was talking to people, the topic of love happened to come up a lot and people always seemed to ask for his advice. Virgil honestly had no idea if the advice he was giving was good, per se. It was just that Virgil seemed to know what he was talking about. People theorized that Virgil had been a Matchmaker before he had come to live here. Virgil wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Besides, it wasn’t just romantic things that people came to Virgil to ask advice on. Virgil had helped with the two orphan boys that had come from the city, the year-long fight that two local sisters were having, and a fight between two best friends. It seemed that Virgil was just good with advice. It wasn’t like it was anything special.
“So, all of the Gods have been showing up lately,” Virgil asked Elliott as the buggy went down the dirt road.
Elliott nodded but then paused. “Well, almost all of them. One of them hasn’t shown up recently. The God of Love and Beauty hasn’t appeared in almost five years now.” They shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean, I heard that he was super active before so he’s probably just taking a break. I heard that time passes really quickly for the Gods. I’m sure that he’ll be back sometime soon.
“I mean, what’s the other option? I mean, what kind of bad things can happen to a God?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Temple was beautiful.
Virgil knew that it was nothing compared to the Temples in cities or the Capital. He had heard rumours of those Temples being made from solid gold, with sparkling rubies and sapphires embedded in its walls, and rich offerings given by Kings and Queens stacked through the halls. Compared to those Temples, this little one was nothing. It was barely as big as the local schoolhouse with one room. From looking through the front window, Virgil thought that it looked more like a very cozy and comfortable family room than anything. There was a beautiful fireplace roaring with fire, beds pushed up against the walls, and food stacked on the table. Virgil’s offering of a deer’s pelt was lying on a table along with several others.
“I can’t believe that this is the new Temple,” Virgil whispered to Elliott, both of their eyes wide with wonder. The two of them were at the front of a large crowd in front of the Temple, waiting for entrance. This whole thing was so exciting that Virgil was barely aware of the dull sting from the wind hitting his scars. “I mean, it’s great but it’s... not what I thought it’d look like.” While it might not be what they were expecting, it was still the most wonderful place that either of them had ever seen.
Elliott grinned at him, bouncing up and down in excitement. “Me neither but this is the God of Family and Safe Havens. I bet that this Temple would look a lot different if this was a Temple for the God of Beauty and Love or for the God of Self Preservation. I hear that the God Patton lets people use his Temples as Safe Havens, just like the God Janus.” They gasped when a soft, warm blue light glowed from the inside of the house, bathing everything inside with its light. “Oh my gosh,” they whispered, gripping Virgil’s arm tightly. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this, I can’t believe this! He’s actually coming, he’s actually showing up!”
The crowd of people immediately quieted and no one made a single sound. Virgil could’ve dropped a pin and it would’ve been the loudest sound in the entire town. Slowly, the light coming from the Temple died down. Though, and maybe this was just Virgil seeing things, the inside of the Temple seemed warmer somehow. It seemed homier. And the large man standing in the, just minutes before empty, Temple seemed completely right there.
Virgil watched through the front window with wide eyes as the man slowly looked around. He was huge, almost six feet, with curly blond hair and big round glasses that were perched on top of a small bottom nose, covering big blue eyes. There were freckles on each and every inch of the man’s skin and there were laugh lines around his eyes. He was wearing comfortable clothes and had the air of a person that you could trust. The kind of person that you would run to if you had a problem or no one else you could turn to. He looked... like a Dad.
He looked familiar.
The God slowly walked through the Temple with a small smile, gently touching the walls and taking a minute to look at the food. Virgil watched him kneel by the fireplace and gently stroke it for a few seconds, glowing embers jumping from the fire and onto the God’s skin only for the God to brush them from his skin with no sign of injury. And Virgil watched as, slowly, the God stood and made his way to the door leading outside to the crowd waiting outside.
Virgil hurried to kneel with the rest of the town, breath catching at the God stepped outside. Most, including Elliott, had their heads bowed respectfully but Virgil could only gawk dumbly as the God looked out at them with a smile. For almost a second there, it looked like he was looking for something and he had to hold back his disappointment when he didn’t find it. But he kept a smile firmly on his face as he went back to looking through the crowd. He had just opened his mouth to say something when his gaze landed on Virgil’s ugly scarred face. Virgil felt a pit of terror settle into him as the God’s face went from gratitude and forced happiness to an expression that Virgil didn’t have the time to fully understand at before the God was almost running at him.
“Vergilius!”
The crowd scrambled away from Virgil, Elliott being pulled from him from someone, and Virgil felt frozen as the God landed in front of him. Distantly, in the back of Virgil’s mind, he remembered a mean rumour that had circulated when Virgil had first been found. That Virgil had somehow offended a God and, in punishment, the Gods had scarred him and stolen his memory. Virgil had never believed these rumours but now, Virgil thought that it might be true. And if they had stolen Virgil’s memory the first time, Virgil found that he was utterly terrified to discover what they might take this time.
Virgil jumped as large, calloused but gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up so he was staring right in the watery eyes of the God of Family and Safe Havens. The God’s glasses were slightly crooked and had slid down right down to the edge of his nose. Tears were making their way down his cheeks and the God’s lips were turned up in a bright, slight disbelieving but so relieved grin. The God was rubbing a thumb into Virgil’s cheek gently while the other was hovering frantically around Virgil like it didn’t know where exactly it should settle. “Oh, Vergilius,” the God whispered, voice cracking. “Oh, you’re here. You’re safe.”
“Vergilius?”
“As in the God Vergilius?!”
“The God of Love and Beauty!?”
“Virgil, our Virgil?”
“What is a God doing living in a cabin on the edge of a poor little town?”
“I,” Virgil licked his suddenly dry lips, staring at the God in confusion and a bit of fear, “my name is Virgil. I’m sorry but, I think I you got the wrong person. I’m, I’m not,” his words trailed away from him, not sure what to say. He found himself leaning into the God’s hand and had to jerk away. Had to jerk away from the feeling of ‘finally-I’m-finally-home-I-was-so-scared-but-I’m-home-and-I-was-so-scared-but-I-knew-that-you’d-find-me’.
The God laughed, but it sounded more confused than anything. “Kiddo, Vergilius, what are you talking about? Oh, Sweetheart, what happened?” Virgil’s breath caught as one of the God’s huge fingers gently brushed against one of the scars surrounding his eyes. “Who did this to you,” the God asked, his voice darkening and full of power. He looked up and he seemed like a God for the first time since he had arrived as he demanded, “Did these Mortals do this to you?!”
Almost a full year ago, Elliott had told Virgil that there was a reason that Patton was the God of both Families and Safe Havens. Because no one would dare step into one of the God’s Safe Havens and try to hurt someone who had hidden there. Because those who stayed there were the God’s family and no one would risk Patton’s wrath. Virgil hadn’t been completely convinced if Elliott wasn’t exaggerating back then, of the God’s terrible wrath on those who had hurt those who he had deemed family.
But now, as the ground started to shake and the sun started to burn impossibly bright, Virgil knew that Elliott had been under-exaggerating.
“Wait,” Virgil cried, lurching forward and grabbing Patton’s arm desperately just as the God had started to rise. “Please, don’t hurt them! They saved me, they didn’t hurt me,” he pleaded. “Please, please don’t hurt them, please.”
The God stared down at Virgil, one hand still cupping his cheek. “You’re sure,” he asked softly, the shaking ground slowly calming and the sun’s harsh beams dimming slightly. “Are you sure, Sweetheart? They’ve helped you?”
“They found me in a bronze net,” Virgil babbled, keeping a tight grip on Patton’s arm like he could single-handedly stop the God if he tried anything. “Elliott did. They found me without my memories and brought me to a Doctor and healed me. They gave me a house and land and fruit trees and seeds and they never hurt me, I promise, I swear!” His chest was burning with the love he had for this small town and the people in it and he was honestly afraid that his chest would burst from just how much of it there was.
There was a long pause before the God slowly pulled Virgil up until he was standing, paying attention only to Virgil and giving none of it to the townfolks watching with bated breath. Both of Patton’s hands cupped Virgil’s cheeks and he asked softly, voice almost unhearable, “Do you know who I am, Kiddo? Do you remember me?”
Virgil blinked and the tears that had been building during his frantic plea starting slowly trickling down his face. “You’re Patton,” he whispered softly, “the God of Families and Safe Havens. The Creator of Janus, the God of Self Preservation and, and a lot of other things. The Father of the Council of Gods.” He let out a shaky breath as the God bowed his head, letting his forehead rest on Virgil’s. “Am... am I wrong?”
The God let out a shaky, pained laugh. “No, Kiddo. No, you’re not wrong.” He looked up at the pale, terrified Mayor and gave him a wobbly smile “Thank you for the Temple. It’s beautiful. I love it.” He turned back to Virgil and gently petted his hair. “I need you to come with me, okay Darling? I know this is all probably very scary and overwhelming for you but I need you to be brave, okay?”
“You... you won’t hurt them,” Virgil asked shakily, looking over his shoulder at the townsfolk. Even though they looked terrified, many of them managed to give Virgil weak and encouraging smiles. One of them, an older lady named Miss Julia, looked like the only reason she wasn’t beating Patton away with her cane was her partner, Hannah, gripping onto her arm tightly. “Right? They protected me. You promise you won’t hurt them?”
The God smiled at him gently, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. “I promise, Sweetheart.” And, with that, Virgil was pulled into a gentle hug and his face was gently pushed into the God’s shoulder so he couldn’t see what was happening. Virgil was about to pull away, terrified that he’d look back to see that his town had been wiped off the map, but he found himself falling limp into the God’s arm when a warm, safe feeling flooded into him and the ground was whisked out from under him. The harsh winter wind disappeared and, for one brief moment, there was only Virgil and the God.
And then, Virgil stumbled as a floor reappeared under his feet. Even without looking, Virgil knew that it was the most expensive floor that he could remember standing on. It was smooth and felt like it had been freshly waxed. He pulled back away from Patton and looked around, eyes widening. Now, this was a Temple.
They were in a large room that wouldn’t look out of place as a King’s throne room. Nine empty thrones were placed around the room, all of them looking completely different from each other. And, for some reason, Virgil felt drawn toward the smallest, almost dainty looking one on the far left side of the room. Like it was meant to be his.
“Does this room seem similar to you at all,” the God asked gently, keeping one hand on Virgil’s shoulder. He seemed to deflate a little when Virgil shook his head. “Okay, that's okay, Kiddo. Now, I want you to wait here, okay Hon? I’m going to get our friends and we can talk this whole thing out.” He leaned forward and gave Virgil a gentle kiss on his forehead before leaving the throne room and leaving Virgil alone.
Virgil swallowed and looked around slowly, trying his best to get his bearings. The room was gorgeous but his eyes kept getting drawn to the small, purple and black throne. It was deceptively dainty looking almost like the throne of a Queen that Virgil had seen once in a book Elliott had given him. But, even from halfway across the room, Virgil could see that the metal was sharp and there were two small, detachable knives on the arms of the throne that would’ve been perfect if the person sitting there suddenly needed something to throw. And there was a power simply radiating from the throne, like if the wrong person sat in it then they’d simply cease to exist.
It was beautiful.
There was a sudden flurry of noise and Virgil spun around, tensing up defensively. The noise was coming from a doorway and Virgil could hear one voice rising above all the others, “You can’t be serious, Patton! He’s been in a dirt poor farm town this entire time?!” There was the soft of Patton answering back, though Virgil couldn’t make out exactly what he said, and the same voice from before snapped back, “No way! Vergilius wouldn’t stay away from us, we’re his family! Whoever you brought back is an imposter, it has to be!”
Virgil stepped forward nervously, walking up to the doorway and standing right beside it but still not be seen. A new voice jumped in, low and suave. “We don’t know that, Roman. We should meet him, just in case it really is Vergilius!”
“But what if this is some evil monster who tries to put us under his spell?!”
“Roman - hes’s not a monster!”
Virgil jumped at a new voice snapped out, “Enough!” Roman, Remus, Emile, Remy, you four stay here. Myself, Patton, and Janus will meet with... whoever Patton has brought here.”
“It’s Vergilius,” Patton cried, sounding close to tears. “Logan, I promise-”
“I know, Patton, I know. We’re just going to check that this is Vergilius for certain, okay Sweetling? And if this truly is Vergilius, we’ll want to make sure that he’s okay first before bombarding him all at once. This is just to be safe.”
“And if this is an imposter, then me and Roman will stab him to death and push him into a vat of boiling poison!”
“For once, I agree with my brother.”
Virgil felt a cold stab of fear before it was overwhelmed with the feeling of hot, harsh anger. He was basically dragged here, taken from his home because apparently, some God thought that he was the God of Love and Beauty - fucking ridiculous - and now some other God decided that if he didn’t look enough like this missing God than they were going to be taking Virgil’s life as punishment. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Before Virgil even knew what he was doing, he was already halfway through the door and spitting out, “Well I fucking don’t!”
The hallway was filled with eight people, all who turned at the sound of Virgil’s voice, but Virgil turned all of his attention to the one with a sword drawn and glaring daggers at Virgil. He didn’t half to be a genius to know that this was the guy who had called him an imposter and jumped right on board with the ‘Killing Virgil’ plan. Virgil decided that he didn’t like this guy.
The guy - he had to be God - puffed up and stalked up to Virgil, baring his teeth at him. “How dare you wear the face of my friend, you imposter!”
“I’m not a fucking imposter and I’m not your fucking friend,” Virgil snapped, planting his feet and glaring up at him. The God glared right back at him with bright red eyes, gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles were turning bright white. “So don’t go yelling at me!” He pushed at the God’s sword arm so hard that the God nearly dropped his weapon.
There was a moment of tense silence before one of the others cleared their voice, stepped forward with a raised finger and said, “Just so you all know, I’m on Pattycake’s side. That is definitely Vergilius.” They stepped back with a smirk as the God with the sword turned his glare at him. “Hey, just saying, Roman.”
The God - Roman - huffed and turned his snarl back to Virgil. “I don’t care what you say, Remy. I know Verglius and he wouldn’t hide out in some random town while we’re all looking for him!”
“My name isn’t Vergilius,” Virgil snapped, feeling the urge to stop his foot. “It’s Virgil! I don’t know any of you guys and my name is Virgil!”
Roman spread his arm and nodded firmly. “See!? Even the Mortal agrees! This was just a mistake.” He sheathed his sword and offered Virgil his arm with a sharp smile. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll escort you back to your home and we can go back to looking for the real Vergilius.”
“Wait,” Patton cried, stepping forward and shoving himself between Virgil and Roman. “Roman, I know that this is Vergilius, I just know it! He told me that he had no memories, he told me this! Logan,” he turned to a short man who was staring at Virgil with dark narrowed eyes, “Logan, you believe me, don’t you?”
“...He does bear an uncanny resemblance to Vergilius,” Logan hummed, stroking his chin with thin, boney fingers. “And if he did indeed lose his memories than that would explain why Vergilius never sent word and how he gained those scars. Though, we have had many imposters in the last five years that you were also sure was Vergilius, Patton,” he continued gently.
“It’s Virgil,” Virgil said sharply, straightening up and glaring at the God.
Logan sighed in frustration and opened his mouth but was cut off by that same suave voice from before. “Well, then, there really is a simple way of solving this, isn’t there?” Virgil turned to look at who was talking and froze.
Staring back at him was a man with sharp golden eyes and bright green scales going down the left half of his face, staring down at Virgil with an unreadable expression. He tilted his head and said smoothly with a shrug, “Make him sit in Vergilius’ chair.”
One of the Gods who hadn’t spoken yet - a God who looked very similar to Patton but with bright pink and blue eyes, long brown hair instead of blond, and an outfit that wouldn’t look out of place on a scholar - stepped forward with a frown. “But, Janus, that’s not fair to the Mortal! Patton brought him here, he didn’t come here claiming to be Vergilius! If it turns out that he isn’t Vergilius then the power will overwhelm him and -”
“Wait,” Virgil cried, throwing his hands up in the air. He tilted his chin up and glared at the intimidating God, Janus. “Sitting in that chair will prove whether or not I’m this Vergilius?” Janus had barely nodded before Virgil was turning back to the throne room to sit in the stupid damn chair so he could go back to his farm and sleep until fucking spring.
But Janus’ hand snapped out and grabbed Virgil’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “As a favour to Emile here,” he said, nodding at the God with pink and blue eyes, “I will warn you to what the chair will do if you’re not Vergilius.” His lips quirked up. “Unless you’d like to just charge in and sit in it without knowing.”
Virgil wanted to scream, he really did. He could be told what would happen if he wasn’t Vergilius - which judging from what Emile had been saying was probably nothing good - and lose his nerve. Which might just prove to these Gods that he was an imposter and Virgil would be in for a world of pain. Or he would just go in to sit on the throne and damn the consequences.
Virgil blamed the decision he made next on how angry he currently was. There was no way for any anxiety or common sense to peek out and make Virgil nervous enough to take a second and really think about what he was about to do. Before he could fully think about what he was doing, Virgil ripped his wrist away from the smirking God and turned back to the Throne Room, stomping across the hall and ignoring the calls of Patton and Emile to wait and let them explain first before trying it.
Instead, he hoisted himself upon the Throne and sat back, closing his eyes.
It was the most comfortable chair ever. It was like someone had studied Virgil’s body and had shaped the Throne around him. The pillow on the throne felt like it was stuffed full of duck feathers and was made out of velvet. Velvet. Virgil had never even seen velvet before. It was the most comfortable Throne in the history of Thrones. Virgil didn’t know how he knew that and he wasn’t going to think on too closely.
“Okay, so, I sat in the stupid chair,” Virgil groaned as he leant forward. As sad as he was to get out of the Throne, he really wanted to go home and check-in with the rest of the townsfolk. “Can I go home now?” He froze though when he opened his eyes and saw all eight Gods standing around him and watching him with various expressions on their faces.
“I knew it,” Patton whispered a large grin on his face and tears gathering in his eyes. “I knew it.”
Roman was staring at Virgil in numb shock, tears running down his cheek. “Oh... you’re really him,” he whispered. His hand twitched like he wanted to pull Virgil into a hug but he couldn’t commit to the action. “Vergilius.”
Virgil twitched backward, leaning back into the throne. “No, I told you. My name’s Virgil. I’m not -”
“You are,” Janus said, stepping forward. He was smiling at Virgil with tears in his eyes, looking so happy and relieved. “That throne was made specifically for Vergilius and your atoms would’ve melted if you weren’t truly Vergilius. Even if you don’t remember your life as Vergilius or don’t remember us, you are our Vergilius.” His smile grew into a large grin. “Oh, Dear One, I’m so happy that you’re safe.”
Virgil blinked dumbly, feeling like everything he knew had just been turned upside down and nothing made sense anymore. He didn’t want to believe it. He just wanted to go back home, visit with Elliott, and then sleep in his own bed. He didn’t want to believe it.
But he did.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered, tears of confusion pricking at his eyes. “If I... if I really am Vergilius... then what happened? How did... where... What happened?”
Janus pulled Virgil into a tight hug, holding him so tightly like he was terrified that if he let go than Virgil would disappear. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t. But we’re going to find out. And until we do, we’re never going to let something like this happen again. I promise.”
General Taglist
@mooniecoockie
@all-eyes-on-you-forever
@engineering-a-better-world
@hermitcreature
@punsterterry
@iris-sanders-athena
@heck-im-lost
@the-v-gees
@tiredfluid
@sevenatee
@i-really-dig-the-purple
@detroit-become-pan
@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder
@radioactivehelena
@max-is-tired
@unikornavenger
@amazonprimebox
@emmydragon
@thegaypasta
@lunareclipse-524
@thepotatoking1010
@bleepblopbloop56
@world-class-izzy
@violetsandpride
@smolautumnchild
@sanderssmosh-n-musicals
@cookiethedevil
@satanblessi
@figurative-falsehood
@crookedlyoptimisticdestiny
@ao-koshka
@onenightjoanly
@alsoyouremischievous
@figurative-falsehood
@mrtacothethird
@analogical-mess
@combine-the-kitchens
@knight-shives
@the-office-cat
@dark-kestrel
@lizziepopanime
@razberrypuck
@kastrefeila
@lilcutekittykat
@ladyonce
@penguinpatty1502
@analogical-mess
@incorrectqueereye
@liz-a-belle-blog
@imjustawibba
@remy-alagaesias-dragon-queen
@fandoms-winkitywonk
@therubyjailcell
@angels-and-dreams
@europa-bear
@pumpkinminette
@viva-la-pluto-dam-you
@ravens-rambling
@felicianoromano
@artemispowell
@phander-trash
@felicianoromano
@maehemscorpyus
@the-anti-virgil
@georganabanana
@kaileah-kat
@omg-rainbowgalxy-things
@chemically-imbalanced-romance
@just-another-rainbowblog
@asymmetricalgarbage8888
@imtooaromaticforthis
@ambersky0319
@th3okamid3mon
@atomicljamm92
@lovebug5151
@shadowsfromthesun
@justpicturesofsam
@fuck-perfection-be-a-mess
@dragonsworn05
@entitydark
@sparkedawg
@luckybanana948
@holliberries
@hell-or-high-waters
@paint-in-flames
@purplepatton
@opaque-puppet
@pearl-topaz
@that-smol-tired-gay
@tired-fanboy
@rachel-eve-puppet
@the-psycho-pie
@the-warfstache-of-wall-street
@pastel-puns
@shadowjag
@saphirestrike
@theatresweetheart
@gatlily
@pastelpatton
@agoddamnrayofsunshine
@ps-reblogs
@tacohippy56900
@anxious-fander-bean
@winterknight1087
@moonfang03
@that-random-fandom-girl
@cricks-loves-you
@teacupfulofstarshine
@hetaisawesome
@lilylunalovegood2002
@silverviolin069
@bubbliee0
@demigodnamedathena
@donalev
@flix-net
@sos-fandoms
@writingfeedsthedarkestones
@leesacrakon
@clone-number-1
@ninja-wizard101
@never-end1ng-suffering
@all-bridges-will-burn
@theresneverenoughfandoms
#Storm Writes#Bad Things Happen Bingo#Tw Memory Loss#tw scars#Virgil Sanders#Patton Sanders#Janus Sanders#Roman Sanders#Emile Sanders#Remy Sanders#Elliott (Cartoon Therapy)#Remus Sanders#though Remus only has one line and isn't mentioned by name directly#Anonymous
794 notes
·
View notes
Text
(and it dies) a million little times
Part 1 of 2:
For you I would ruin myself
I have to post something so I still feel like I'm accomplishing things while I write (what was going to just be the other half of this) the second part of this. And also while I wait for inspiration so strike for Protect You or Skate Into My Heart because I promise I haven't given up but I have commITMENT ISSUES LEAVE ME ALONE
ANYWAY this is for@the-love-yourself-journal (or I guess @perseusjackson-jasongrace) who is the literal queen of Jercy idc. She got me to ship them in the first place so thanks babe
Ps Percy isn't white because canon Percy isn't white fight me
It felt wrong, hiding such a secret from her. He and Annabeth had always been honest with each other, it was why they had been drawn together from the moment they met.
She was definitely the best marriage option he had seen. Despite that, despite being able to converse with each other in a way that most married couples they knew could not, there was something missing.
When he’d met the blonde-haired boy, he realized what it was.
Percy had struggled his entire life with this. This sickness. It had always been drilled into his mind that people experiencing what he was experiencing was wrong, sinful, in fact. So he never spoke of it. Never spoke of being attracted more to the boy next door than the girl. Never spoke of the fact that aside from his wedding night, years ago, he’d never had sex. He couldn’t. Not with her. Not with any her.
Laughing blue eyes, annoyingly perfect teeth.
He couldn’t tell her. At best, she’d laugh, then ignore it. At worst, she’d tell everyone, and he couldn’t imagine what would happen to him then.
A horrific death on the street, most likely, followed by a long, agonizing stay in Hell for his sins.
A small, faded scar on his upper lip from his childhood.
Percy was sitting at his desk in his office, pretending to work while actually waiting for him to appear. As always before he actually showed up, Percy’s mind ran rampant. His own brain spat insults at him, his gut twisted at what he was doing. What he was doing to Annabeth. His heart screamed at him for not being able to stop himself, from not fighting harder to go back to being in love with Annabeth, despite knowing he’d never been. His soul longed for its other half.
The way his nose would scrunch when he laughed, the laugh only Percy could draw out of him.
Percy shifted in his chair. His tie was too tight around his neck, he was going to suffocate. Maybe he should. The clock continued ticking, as it always did.
The feel of his hands, on his face, his hips, his back.
“He is here to see you, Mr. Jackson.”
“Send him in.” Voice professional, practiced, despite the lurch in his gut. His brain, his heart, his soul all screamed louder, arguing their own points. Waging their violent war within him.
As always, the sight of him quieted them all.
Percy stood, adjusting his tie, and made his way over to the man leaning against his now closed door. His throat bobbed as Percy approached.
Percy lifted a hand and traced that scar, his voice barely above total silence, “I’ve missed you.”
Jason Grace’s breath was hot on his hand. His voice matched Percy’s, “You will be my ruination.”
“You are already mine.” Then Percy lunged forward, capturing his lips.
Looks like his soul had won this one. Again.
~~~~~
Piper McLean fidgeted uncomfortably with the hem of her skirt. She’d ruined many perfectly good skirts like this. Sitting. Waiting.
“Sooner or later you’re going to completely unravel one of those.” Piper looked up and was met with gray eyes. The same gray eyes that had been staring at her all day. She’d been staring right back.
“The children’s break is short,” Piper murmured back, standing from her stool.
“Indeed,” Annabeth replied, moving forward to take Piper’s hands.
“What are we doing?” Piper’s voice was hoarse, scratchy. “We have husbands.”
“Indeed.” Was all Annabeth said again, her grip on Piper’s hands tightening.
“I love Jason,” Piper said, mostly to herself.
Annabeth’s lips pursed, “I love Percy.” She took another step forward, Piper was almost completely pressed against her teaching desk. She dropped Piper’s hands to cup her face, and Piper’s eyes fluttered closed in response. “But not like I love you.”
Piper opened her eyes, “We are going to destroy each other.”
“I would gladly destroy myself for you, moya solnishka.”
“Don’t you feel bad?” The distress in Piper’s voice forced Annabeth to pull back. Her eyes held a level of concern that made Piper’s breath catch.
“I do,” She conceded after a moment of silence, “For lying to Percy. For lying to everyone in my life. For having to hide you. For having to hide us. But I do not feel bad for loving you.” Her voice held a note of desperation, she was begging Piper to understand. “Do you?”
Piper didn’t respond for a beat too long, Annabeth pulled further away, her face flushed.
Their time was up, the laughter of the children echoed through the schoolhouse as they returned.
“I’m sorry,” Piper said.
Annabeth shook her head, “No, Piper. I’m sorry.” Her eyes were miserable, “Forgive me.”
For what? Piper tried to ask but the lump in her throat stopped her.
“I have ruined you,” Annabeth said simply. “I am forcing you to go along with my sins.” Her back was straight, her face was empty, but Piper could see how hard she was fighting to keep it that way.
Piper shook her head but Annabeth didn’t see it, she was walking out of the door already.
Oh, gods. What had she done?
~~~~~
“How was your day?” Jason asked his tone the same forced lightness it had been for months.
“It was good! Nothing out of the ordinary.” Her tone was the same.
Jason nodded from his seat at the couch, “Good. That’s very good.”
“What about you?” Piper’s hands were shaking as she laid the plates on the table.
“My day was the same,” Jason said as he slid into a chair at the table.
Piper looked at him for a long moment and came to a decision.
“Jason?” She asked, clutching her fork tightly.
“Yes?” He looked up from his plate.
“I would like to visit a friend after dinner.”
Jason nodded, “Of course. I’ll invite over one of my coworkers while you’re gone.”
As they resumed their meal, they seemed lighter than they had all evening.
~~~~~
Piper knew she couldn’t very well just appear on Annabeth’s doorstep, so after she washed the evening dishes she called her.
Her fingers were heavy as she slid the ring to dial the numbers she had long ago memorized.
Piper’s hopes were answered when Annabeth was the one to pick up the phone.
“Annabeth,” She was breathless. “I-” She remembered Jason and her voice dropped low, “I need to see you.”
Annabeth was speechless and Piper wished she could see her face, “May I see you?”
Annabeth’s voice was just as low with an edge Piper couldn’t name, “Yes. Yes. Meet me.”
She didn’t have to say where. Piper knew. The place they’d always meet at. That secret place, filled with their sin. Their secrets. Their agonized love.
Piper hurriedly stuck the phone back in its place and pulled her coat over her shoulders. She kissed Jason on the cheek and was out the front door before he could respond.
~~~~~
Jason sat, bouncing his leg until Piper had been gone for long enough. (It may not have even been long enough, it was just until he could not wait any longer.)
He raced to the phone and dialed the number engraved on his heart.
“Hello?” Percy asked. Thank god. Jason hadn’t thought of a decent excuse to give Annabeth if she’d been the one to answer.
“Can you get away tonight?” Jason asked.
Percy waited for a beat, as if in thought, before responding. “Yes, I can.”
Jason smiled, “Piper is out for the evening. You could come here.”
“I’m on my way.” Jason laughed at how quickly the words fell out of his mouth and the hurried click signifying he hung up.
~~~~~~
Annabeth trailed her lips up the column of Piper’s throat, and breathed deeply through her nose, “Is that a new perfume?” They were in their spot, a dark, shadowy corner in between two factories, hidden away from the rest of the world.
Piper dug her fingers into Annabeth’s shoulders, “Yes,” She knew what Annabeth wanted to ask, but knew she wasn’t going to put Piper in that place. “It’s for you.”
Annabeth froze and pulled an inch away from her spot on Piper’s jaw. “It smells good,” Her voice was hoarse and she resumed her ministrations along Piper’s jawline.
“Annabeth, about this morning-” Annabeth cut her off, shaking her head.
“No. It’s alright, sweetheart. You don’t need to apologize for your feelings, ever.”
“The rest of society would disagree.”
Annabeth understood her meaning and ducked her head to hide her face. “How long can we keep doing this?” Desperation.
“I don’t know,” Piper wrapped her arms around the other girl’s shoulders and pulled her flush against her.
Piper breathed deeply, feeling the warmth of Annabeth’s body, a stark contrast to the metal of the factory wall at her back. “All we can do is live in the moment.” Piper pulled Annabeth’s face away from her neck. “Damn the rest to hell.”
Annabeth nodded, “Damn the rest to hell.” Then they were kissing again.
~~~~~~~
When the doorbell rang Jason raced to answer it, feeling like an excited puppy.
Percy was leaning against one of the pillars on the porch. He was beautiful; Jason had yet to see a time where he wasn’t. Shining green eyes, so painfully alive, that black hair Jason knew he frequently fought with to make it ‘work appropriate’. The lean, toned body that Jason often found himself staring at, or thinking of.
Percy was surveying the neighborhood, the picture of unruffled aside from the tightness in his lips. When he heard Jason open the door, that tightness vanished, replaced instead by the grin that Jason had fallen in love with in the first place.
Whoa. Reel that back in. Calm down, Grace. No love here. Just a drug that always gave him the high he needed. No love. That makes it too serious. This is harmless fun. Well, not harmless.
“Jason?” Percy interrupted his spiral and Jason realized he’d been staring silently, that he hadn’t let Percy inside.
He shook his head, “Sorry.” He stepped back, opening the door wider. Percy walked in and threw himself on the couch, looking perfectly content and at home. As if what they were doing wouldn’t result in pain, physical and emotional.
He could always go back, he reminded himself. There was always an out. He was addicted to the poison that was Percy Jackson, but he could always escape.
The click of the door closing was a death sentence.
He could always get out, right?
~~~~~~~
It had been a few days since Annabeth and Piper had seen each other, the two women were teachers at the same school, yet they always seemed to miss each other. In the hallways, the break room, before and after classes, they could never catch more than fleeting glances and the swish of hair and hips around a corner. Annabeth was determined to change this.
She saw a flash of brown hair that she immediately registered as Piper, glancing at the clock to make sure she had enough time before her students were expecting her, she nearly sprinted after the other girl.
Piper was leaning against the wall when Annabeth found her, grinning. Her eyes, shards of multicolored glass Annabeth always found herself drowning in, were glittering in the harsh light. Annabeth stalked closer and Piper’s grin didn’t fade.
“Oh no,” She drawled, leaning enough to rest a hand in the curve of Annabeth’s waist, attempting to tug her forward. “You caught me.” Annabeth couldn’t resist Piper’s smile and met it with her own, the smile she only gave Piper. “What will I, this poor damsel, do?”
This was risky. This was really fucking risky. They were basically out in the open, where another teacher or staff member or even the students could easily find them.
Piper reached up and drew the pad of her finger against that crease in Annabeth’s brow and Annabeth knew she was done for. Piper smiled, this one soft and adoring, and Annabeth melted through the floor.
Annabeth gave up on trying to stay as unaffected as possible, pressing her lips to Piper’s. Piper pressed herself closer as if she was trying to mold them into one person. The soft, smooth contours of Piper against Annabeth’s sharp, hard edges of Annabeth was like some kind of poetry. It was probably a metaphor about who they were as people, blah blah blah. She didn’t have time to think about damn metaphors. Not while Piper was here, kissing her like she actually wanted this. Like she’d do anything to keep this. Annabeth knew it wasn’t true, knew Piper wouldn’t ruin her life for this. (She didn’t blame her, but it was nice to pretend sometimes)
Piper smiled into the kiss and mumbled, “This is nothing like how the fairytales normally go.” Annabeth let out a surprised laugh.
Piper pulled away, staring unflinchingly into Annabeth’s eyes, the storms she was responsible for keeping at bay. “Gods,” She turned her head and Annabeth had no idea where this was going with this. “This is better than any of those fairy tales.” Then she moved, winding her hands into Annabeth’s hair, and kissed her again.
Gods, she’d fallen for this girl. She had no idea when it had happened. Maybe 30 seconds ago, maybe the first time they’d met, three years ago. Maybe it was when Percy was on business trips, which meant that Annabeth could work without anyone to make her sleep, eat or anything ‘healthy’ and Piper would come over. Make her take breaks from her work. Listen to Annabeth rant about things she knew she didn’t understand. Annabeth had so many plans, to escape this hell town, fight for her rights, build something permanent somewhere she loves with someone she loves and be unafraid to live. She also had even more impossible dreams; to build something. Piper humored her, always listened to her, attention never wavering. It was more than Annabeth could ever ask for.
She was more than Annabeth could ever ask for.
Annabeth pulled away, telling her as much and something flashed in those kaleidoscope eyes but she didn’t respond.
“Piper?” Hazel’s voice echoed into the hallway they were in. Piper leaped off of her, hurrying to straighten herself.
Hazel rounded the corner right as Piper and Annabeth had gotten themselves together.
The woman smiled at them and looked at Piper when she spoke, “Leo needs to see you,” Piper opened her mouth but Hazel cut her off, “I have no idea why.”
"Okay, thanks," Piper said, definitely too out of breath for it to be anything but suspicious. Piper hesitated a second longer, fighting to not look back at Annabeth but finally, she walked off.
Annabeth smiled awkwardly at Hazel and the other girl grinned but it quickly turned somber, "I don't know what you're doing, Annabeth." She shook her head, "I don't want to know. But I want you to know this," She stepped forward and clasped the other girl's hands in hers. "I care about you. I care about Piper. Be careful, please." Her wide gold eyes were begging, "Be careful, Annabeth."
"I'm trying," Annabeth tried to say but it came out a choked whisper. "I'm trying."
Hazel nodded and leaned forward so they were touching foreheads. "I'm scared for you."
Annabeth wanted to reassure her, but the words got caught in her throat. They both knew Annabeth couldn't promise anything.
~~~~~
Percy was staring at Jason.
This wasn't a rare occurrence, the opposite, actually. Percy could often be found staring at Jason.
But there was something about Jason Grace under the moon and her stars that was absolutely breathtaking.
His head was tilted back, eyes closed, breathing deeply, a small smile on his lips. The starlight seemed to wrap around him, shielding him from the world, announcing him as one of them. His blonde hair was damp from their earlier shower and the moonlight danced through the silky strands. Gods, Percy thought, taking him in, he's ethereal.
He was leaning back on his hands, ankles crossed over the edge of his porch.
They were in Jason's backyard, sharing a smoke; Percy took a long drag, trying to ground himself. Piper would surely be back soon, he didn't have much longer. He needed to come back to earth and distance himself from the star that was Jason Grace.
When Jason's eyes fluttered open and he turned those crystal-blue masterpieces on him, his smile growing into something wide and soft and fond, Percy knew he was done for. Fuck coming back to earth.
Jason reached over, and plucked the cigarette from between Percy's lips, and brought it to his own. He leaned back to stare at the sky again and Percy leaned sideways until his head was pillowed in Jason's lap.
Jason kept one hand on the deck to prop himself up and ground the cigarette out, dropping it to comb his free hand through Percy's hair.
"We should leave," Percy said suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence.
Jason's hand stilled briefly. "What?"
"Leave town, together."
"Where would we go?" He didn't sound angry (thank the gods), he kept his voice soft, but Percy could hear that note of disbelief.
"Anywhere," Percy replied and Jason huffed a laugh above him.
"That's not much of a plan. Besides, we have lives here."
"You're all I need," Percy said, way too sincerely, tracing a pattern on Jason's knee with his index finger.
Jason's hand stilled again and Percy cursed himself and everything that existed to make him say that. Now I've scared him away, Percy thought bitterly and got off Jason's lap.
Jason was staring at him with a look Percy couldn't decipher, his lips parted slightly. Percy wanted to kiss him; this wasn't the time to kiss him. Keep it together.
"Perce-"
"Jason!" Piper's voice carried out the back door and wrapped around the two of them like a vice.
Jason went considerably pale and Percy stood up. "I'll see you whenever I see you?" Percy said.
Jason just nodded, still staring at him.
Percy opened the backdoor and stepped inside, saying a brief 'hello' and 'goodbye' to Piper before finally making it back to his car.
He slammed his hands on the hood and cursed, "Stupid, Jackson. That was stupid." he opened the car door with considerably more force than necessary and sat down heavily. "Fucking idiot." And now he had to go home to Annabeth and pretend nothing was wrong. Great.
~~~~~
It started with the notes. Sticky notes with slurs scrawled on them (against his race, his orientation, anything they could get a hand on), in horrible handwriting, stuck to his desk at work. Jason didn't mention any, but when he took his coat off and draped it on Percy's couch, one fell out, crumpled as if Jason had furiously shoved it in his pocket.
Percy had picked it up, saw what was written there, and knew that this wasn't a coincidence. Someone knew. Someone knew about them and wasn't very happy about it.
He'd briefly wondered if it was Annabeth, but no, she didn't seem to be angry at him or disgusted, but she had been colder lately. When the notes started appearing in places that weren't as public as his desk, Percy got more concerned.
He still hadn't talked to Jason about it; the notes and what had transpired on Jason's porch either.
They'd elevated too. Notes in his car, calling him a disgrace to his family and god. But Percy wasn't as worried as he probably should've been. After all, this person was hiding behind ink and paper, if they had something to say, they could do it to his face.
But when they started threatening him, Percy finally spoke to Jason about it.
"Have you been getting notes?" He asked.
Jason was sprawled on Percy's bed, sans shirt, arm thrown over his eyes as if shielding him from the light.
Percy himself was sprawled next to Jason, head on his chest, legs twined together.
Jason peered down at him, blinking wearily. His glasses were sitting on the side table. "What?"
"Notes," Percy said as if this explained everything. "That are calling you-" He swallowed and Jason's eyes tracked the movement.
"Yeah," Jason said finally. "I haven't been too concerned." A lie. If Percy knew Jason at all (and he did) the other boy had been worrying himself to death over this, afraid to tell anybody, panicking and overthinking alone. The thought made Percy's chest ache.
"I wasn't going to mention it," Jason said.
"Me either, but this recent one," He trailed off, already doubting if he should be worrying Jason over this. But it did technically involve him.
Percy pushed off of Jason and the other boy made a whining noise in the back of his throat. Percy grinned as Jason flushed in embarrassment.
Percy pulled the crumpled note out of his discarded jacket and read aloud to Jason, who was still on the bed, "I know all about your illicit affairs-"
"Oh, how proper."
Percy snorted, "Tell me about it." He cleared his throat, "Anyway. -with Jason Grace." Jason stiffened. They knew his name. "If you don't do what I want I will tell Annabeth and Piper all about it. And maybe more than just the two of them, too.”
“Mhmm. And we believe them?”
“I’m not sure,” Percy said tossing the note onto the nightstand and belly-flopping onto the bed next to Jason.
“If you did, you wouldn’t be here,” Jason said, practically.
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I know you.”
Percy smiled, "Yeah, I guess you do."
Jason smiled back, only for a few seconds before his face fell; Percy felt his heart jump to his throat. "What are we going to do?"
"You already have an idea," Percy said, staring at him.
"You're not going to like it."
Percy sighed, "Let's hear it."
"We can't see each other."
Percy shot to his feet. "No! I'm not letting some heathen," He pointed angrily at the note. "Bully me into staying away from the man I love."
Jason went deathly still and Percy's brain finally caught up to what just happened.
"'Man you love'?" His voice was quiet and Percy didn't know how to read that.
"Yeah," Percy whispered. "Yes."
Jason wasn't looking at him and every second that passed, Percy felt his heart chipping away.
"I-" Jason swallowed and wet his lips. "I love you." His voice was hushed as if he was scared to be heard.
Percy stared at him for a beat of bated breath before lunging at him. Jason laughed as his back collided with the mattress.
Jason held Percy's face in his hands and looked him over, drinking everything in before kissing him.
The notes could wait.
#jercy#pipabeth#gay#very gay#jason grace x percy jackson#jason grace#percy jackson#piper mclean#pjo/hoo#piper x annabeth#annabeth chase#piper mclean x annabeth chase#hazel levesque#angst#fluff#forbidden love#percy jackson fic#pjo fanfic#percabeth#jason and piper#jasper#jiper
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
CHECK IN TAG ✔️
Hey thanks for tagging me @peebsplays !!
Why did you choose your url?
I made this blog knowing that I was going to be a historical sims blog, I had lurked in the simblr community for about a year before making this blog so I knew a lot of the big historical simblrs from that. I really liked seeing all the really creative blog names that people had, so I felt like I had to come up with a good one. I chose antiquatedplumbobs because I felt like it was a poetic way to let people know what my simming interests were!
Any side blogs? If you have them name them and why you have them.
I have one, antiquatedposes, which is where I fast reblog things I’m interested in, but I’m not sure if they fit the parameters of my historic finds for this blog. So, random poses I’ll use for storytelling and sometimes hairs or other things. Also things that I’m just not sure exactly how to tag for here at that moment and come back to.
How long have you been on tumblr?
I started this blog in November of 2020, but my first tumblr blog I made in the spring of 2019.
Do you have a queue tag?
I do. I’m trying to catalog all the historic cc I like/am interested in, that means older pieces, so I’ll go and do a whole bunch of one creator at once and put them in my queue.
Why did you start your blog in the first place?
I had lurked on tumblr for a while, I mostly used it for cc finding, but I started realizing that I really wanted to be a part of the community, and maybe share some of the stuff I was doing. I also wanted to have a place to actually appropriately organize all my cc finds.
Why did you choose your icon/pfp?
My icon is my simself, or my historic alter ego as I like to think of her. I have her dressed as a 1940s English farmgirl, because that’s kind of my ideal time? I know weird.
What’s your post with the most notes?
My one-room schoolhouse! Which is honestly kind of surprising to me, when I put it up for download I wasn’t sure anyone was going to like it all!
How many mutuals do you have?
I have about 50, give or take, because I just went and counted by hand... I’m still a new blog and I’d love to have more!
How many followers do you have?
I have a little over three-hundred followers, and I’m glad for each and every one of you!
How many people do you follow?
336. I reaaaaallly thought that was going to be higher, guess I need to start looking for more blogs to follow!
Have you ever made a shitpost?
Not on here, haha.
How often do you use tumblr each day?
I kind of hate all other social media, I don’t touch twitter or facebook and barely use instagram so tumblr is my go to scroll app, so I’m definitely on here for multiple hours a day haha.
Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?
Definitely not, I am not a confrontational person so I would never.
How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?
They’re not for me really. I use tumblr as an escape, my first tumblr was heavy into cottagecore and I made it during a very stressful time in my life and I really appreciated that I could just escape from the doomcycle of news and such.
Do you like tag games?
I do! I really enjoy when other people do them because I get to see snippets of them beyond what they’ve curated for their blog and it’s a fun reminder that people are actually real.
Do you like ask games?
I do, I usually only do ones that are relevant to my sims interests though.
Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
Oh I don’t know, that’s a hard question to ask because the historical simblr community is pretty small.
Do you have a crush on a mutual?
I definitely swoon over several of my mutual’s stories and photography skills! @pixelnrd is absolutely amazing, but I also love what @ivyandink is doing over at heartsong!
I’m going to tag @ivyandink , @kat-simss , @pinkwohoo , @simming-in-the-rain and @ee-bah-sims if you guys want to or haven’t done it yet!
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
I posted 78 times in 2022
That's 78 more posts than 2021!
37 posts created (47%)
41 posts reblogged (53%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@4getfulimaginator2022
@ao3commentoftheday
@winterbythesea
@piracytheorist
@waynes-multiverse
I tagged 76 of my posts in 2022
Only 3% of my posts had no tags
#captain swan - 43 posts
#cs ff - 41 posts
#captain swan fanfic - 37 posts
#cs fanfic - 37 posts
#cs ff au - 35 posts
#cs fic - 34 posts
#cs fanart - 26 posts
#4getfulimaginator - 25 posts
#please reblog - 16 posts
#cs fic rec - 15 posts
Longest Tag: 82 characters
#working on an original novel and he's the faceclaim for one of the main characters
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Poster by @4getfulimaginator2022
CS fic prompt, based on the 2004 film "Dear Frankie": Emma Swan has protected her son Henry his entire life from his real father. When she can no longer hide the truth from him, she hires a mysterious stranger to keep up the charade.
17 notes - Posted June 28, 2022
#4
Heart Bound: CHAPTER XXV
Heart Bound on AO3
CHAPTER XXV — Fighting Back
******************
Her expectations have come to pass. However, now that the anticipation is over, every fiber of her being blazes like a stoked furnace.
She was correct. He wants her gone. And he will force his way to get what he wants.
Among the other council members, Marco seems the most shocked. “You wish to discharge Miss Swan? On what grounds?”
Spencer crosses his arms over his chest. “She is inadequate.”
“Inadequate? How?” Pastor Hopper adjusts his spectacles. “I have heard much praise from the children’s parents. After all, she passed the probation period, and it has only been several months since she began her post. Rome was not built in a day. We should give her some time.”
“Time? And money, I presume? My money.” Spencer’s voice hardens. “I know that the townspeople contributed what they could to the funds reserved for her salary. Please let me remind you that more than half of those funds were my donation. I refuse to waste more of them on a person who does not know what she is doing!”
“You do not say how she has failed,” Marco argues. It warms her heart to see him rise to her defense, but it also worries her. A powerful, resourceful man is a dangerous enemy. “I see happy faces come from her schoolhouse. She is patient and understanding.”
“You are a witness, are you?” he fires back. “Do tell, sir - have you ever set foot in that place while class was in session? No? Well, I have, and I do not second your account. This, then, is a secondhand tale from whom? Your son?”
August jumps to his feet. “You have no right to criticize Emma. She has been a saint, working every day without complaint.”
Spencer laughs. “Is that your definition of good work? Discipline? It means nothing if the quality of the work is poor and lacking. But I am not surprised. Perhaps that is why you and your wood carvings are still in Storybrooke and not the city.”
August marches up to the platform until he is right in front of the man, face to face. His hands are clenched into fists and his jaw is tight. “Perhaps. Perhaps that is also why you are rarely here. If people were to see more of you, you might not be mayor for much longer.”
“Is that a threat, carpenter?”
“A promise. I am not an aggressive man.”
“Neither am I. And I always deliver on my promises.”
The air is taut as a bowstring, ready to snap back. She can stand it no longer.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” She passes by both of them and reaches the town council. “Being at the center of this debate, I feel I should address these accusations against me.”
Spencer opens his mouth, but Pastor Hopper holds him at bay with an upheld hand. “Miss Swan, I wholeheartedly agree. Please. The floor is yours.”
Closing her eyes, she takes several deep breaths to ready her resolve. Then she turns around and faces the town, hands clasped in front of her.
She must be meek and reserved. She must stay calm.
She has to get through this.
“Good evening, everyone. You know me as Miss Swan, the schoolteacher here. For several months, many of you have entrusted your children to my care. Every day, they have come to the schoolhouse to study and learn.
“And while there are those,” she glances at Spencer, “who claim I have done nothing to help your children, I know they have come so far since they started their education. Before, they could not read or write. They had never seen numbers or letters before.”
She smiles at a sudden image in her mind. After the Spencer debacle was over and class was dismissed for the day, a little girl named Bertie came up to her desk. All the other children had left. Saying nothing, the child handed her a drawing of the school and her classmates. It was simple and plain, etched in black charcoal, because the town could not afford colored chalk or ink. Under the drawing were the words “You are a great teacher, Miss Swan.”
She folded the paper into quarters and slipped it into her pocket. Now, if she ever feels unsure of her goal, she takes the drawing out and looks at it.
Perhaps hope is only born in the midst of the deepest troubles. That is why Pandora’s box had hope. Hope is needed the most in times of hardship.
Her voice gains conviction, and she takes a long look at the many faces in the room. They are questioning, puzzled. Some of the parents must be wondering why she feels the need to defend herself. Others seem warm and open.
See the full post
17 notes - Posted June 11, 2022
#3
Saving Prince Killian by Commandante Theresa. CS AU (no magic) with Prince!Killian and Princess!Emma. When Princess Emma's romantic dream of marrying Prince Killian finally comes true, she discovers they are married in name only. He has fallen into a life of vice & debauchery, infatuated with his mistress, the infamous, manipulative courtesan Milah. Only True Love can save him from darkness & Milah's evil influence to become the noble Prince he was meant to be.
Comments: I literally sought this one out to re-read it just last week! It's like a historical romance - funny, smart and smoking hot. I 100% recommend it!
So...I was rustling through my Amazon Drive uploads, since Amazon Drive is being retired at the end of 2022, and look what I found! I made a heap of CS fic banners back in the day, and I decided I'm going to do a series of fic recs and repost all these. Some of these lovely writers are still on Tumblr, while others never were. I'll tag everyone I can. Please reblog!!! Please share them. They are wonderful stories.
Banners are by @4getfulimaginator2022
23 notes - Posted July 29, 2022
#2
Soldier Boy fics rec
First of all, I want to note that I have not watched The Boys in its entirety, only bits and pieces here and there. When season 3 rolled around, I jumped on the Soldier Boy bandwagon, too. I even got a bit obsessed. 🤣 Of course, that means fic recs!
🌺 Bad Reputation by @waynes-multiverse
Completed. This fic is hot, sweet, and super sassy (see what I did there?) - such a blast to read and relish. I love the quick banter and fierce love scenes. Y/N becomes an OC in her own right, determined, principled, and forgiving. Soldier Boy is a human supe caught between his old ways and his growing love for Y/N. Can I just say that some parts of the story are like beautiful poetry? Aw, it squeezed my heart! Suspense, romance, drama - this fic has it all. You'll enjoy it as much as I have. 😍
🌺 Safe Haven by @that-sarcastic-writer
In progress. The sexual tension in this fic is so thick you can cut it with a knife! The buildup between Y/N and Soldier Boy is great, and I'm really looking forward to how the author decides to move the story forward. So delicious! 😏
🌺 Thunder in Our Hearts by @luci-in-trenchcoats
Completed. If you ever hoped Soldier Boy could be redeemed - realistically - this story takes us to that happy place. His journey is tough and gritty, and I love how rooted Y/N is as a character. She is a fleshed-out OC with motivation, purpose, and character growth. Each plot thread is so well thought out! The action and suspense had me on the edge all the time, and I enjoyed every bit of it. Wonderful, wonderful fic! 💪
🌺 Happy Little Family by @fandom-chic
Completed. Gosh, every chapter moves so fast that you'll be at the end before you know it, wishing for more! I loved the take here, that Soldier Boy had a great love in the past. The ending is bittersweet, and I will post trigger warnings for one particular chapter that broke me. 😔 Loved this! ❤️
Now do what Soldier Boy would do
AND READ THESE!!!
Please show these writers some love 💕by commenting on and reblogging their fics!
24 notes - Posted October 16, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Poster by @4getfulimaginator2022
CS fic prompt based on the 2000 film "Pay It Forward": Emma Swan is a single mother struggling to get by with her young son, Henry. Henry is inspired by his history teacher, Killian Jones, to change the world for the better. His brilliant idea becomes a ripple effect, sweeping through their small town of Storybrooke and eventually, the entire country.
26 notes - Posted June 28, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Asriel and I went to a human school today, without Frisk. They offered to come, but we wanted to do this ourselves. It went tolerably - Asriel discovered how much he still likes attention and was able to draw it off me, and the other kids might not even have been malicious - until the school day was over.
Asriel had occupational therapy right after school, to help him with fine motor skills like writing and using utensils he’s having to relearn in his new body (I call it “eating practice”), but apparently he was unaware of how changing classes works, and he left his books in every single classroom he was in. So I, being the kind and generous sibling I am, told him I’d go back into the schoolhouse to find all seven of his notebooks while Mom drove him to eating practice so he wouldn’t be late.
I found the first notebook on a desk before long, but the math teacher made me solve math problems before I could take the notebooks. Half of the problems were impossible. And when I got the first impossible problem wrong, he started chasing me around the school with a ruler.
Naturally, because this wasn’t strange enough, the principal (who forced me into detention for 15-second intervals for running in the halls even though school was out), other students, and a few bizarrely sapient craft projects joined in soon after. And whenever the math teacher caught me, his ruler somehow electrocuted me and I had to reload! Frisk kept texting me asking what was going on and offering to send help or something, but I told them that I could do this myself. I will admit, I was having fun having my own adventure.
But then, when I got all seven notebooks, the exits kept disappearing! At this point Asriel texted me and said that Mom had called the Foundation already, but luckily I was able to find the real exit right as they got there. So I emerged, sweaty and bleeding from a cut on my cheek, to my whole family waiting outside terrified and an armored car just pulling up, and I strutted away, never once looking back, and pulled out Azzy’s notebooks with a dramatic flourish and said, “Got your notebooks,” in as deep a tone of voice as I could manage.
Of course, then Asriel started crying and telling me that I was more important than some stupid notebooks and why didn’t I call for help right away and he could’ve lost me again and didn’t I know by now that I didn’t need to be a lone wolf badass (my Asriel actually said that word!) to be worth something, so I pointed out that the only reason he wanted to go to human school was to prove himself, but then he pointed out that so did I, and then my badass moment was lost because we both started laughing at ourselves, but Asriel and Frisk did demand all the details from me afterwards and cheer me on in the telling, so I did end up feeling very proud of myself in the end.
So yeah, Asriel and I are sticking with monster school for now, and that’s just fine. I have decided that I don’t need to go to human school to feel good about myself. (Partially because I managed to defeat a Stage 4 reality bender - apparently that’s what the math teacher was - while in a state of fight or flight mode or something after spending a full day with other human children.)
Oh, and the MTF they sent executed the math teacher for being a Stage 4 reality bender, arranged to have the principal fired and social workers look in on all those weird kids, and confined the sentient sock, broom, and art project as SCPs, which I should probably feel bad about. But I don’t.
(The MTF leader also told me that I was “one tough cookie”, which made me laugh because they don’t even know the half of it - but I now have a job offer from the SCP Foundation one day, and I do not know if that is a compliment or an insult.)
So all in all, human school - I would recommend it, it provides great growth, but only if you are bored.
(Mod note: This may or may not be canon to the blog. Happy April Fool’s Day!)
#undertale ask blog#undertale#undertale post pacifist route#save asriel#save chara#chara#frisk#asriel dreemurr#toriel#asgore dreemurr#crossover#scp foundation#baldi's basics in education and learning#baldi's basics#april fool's day#april fool's day 2021#reality benders
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
21 | feckless
note: general spoilers for ShB and SB, slight emetophobia CW
"Okay, so after this I have a levequest delivery...a dungeon meetup to find that last piece of gear...and Khloe’s waiting for my Wondrous Tails turn-in this week,” Aleatoire rattled off her to-do list before creasing her brows. “Wait, did I do my daily cactpot yet? Can’t forget that...”
By contrast, the pink dress lalafell by her side looked positively idle as she sipped from her cup of tea. “Really Aleatoire, are you always this busy every time you visit?”
“I don’t have much time,” her friend replied, stifling back a yawn as she scribbled down more notes. “Since the days are aligned between the Source and the First, I can’t stay long.”
“Then why not stop and deal with them after you’ve fixed things there?” Tataru suggested.
“I don’t do much there otherwise.”
“Aren’t you helping out the pixies?”
“Oh, we fixed the dreams already. Now I’m focusing on the Ananta—you know they’re re-purposing that bridge right? There’s mixed feelings about that, so to stabilize the situation I’m helping out. And the Domans too, they’re rebuilding the enclave so I’m donating as much as I can—”
“Aleatoire!” Tataru slammed her cup down on the table. “Just how many nut bakes do you have your fingers in?”
At last, the elezen stopped muttering to look at her. “Pardon?”
“How are you still doing so many things at once?” the lalafell chided. “You’re a Warrior of Light, not a mistress of errands!”
“No but I am a Lady of the Fetch—”
“—which we agreed was an absolutely ridiculous title to own, you’re not some sort of dog—”
“But it’s important, all these things,” Aleatoire insisted. “And I do pace myself. No more than 25,000 gil a week for the Domans, see? And only three quests a day for the Ananta—”
Tataru waved her off impatiently. “I don’t care how rich and generous you’re coming off at this moment, but honestly there’s no way someone could handle doing so much work all the time. Haven’t you taken any breaks?”
“I do.”
Tataru’s eyes narrowed. “Learning goldsmithing doesn’t count.”
“But it’s not fighting—”
“No, it’s an out and proper profession, which means it’s work, not rest!” Tataru fumed. “Don’t think I can’t see the dark circles under your eyes.”
“I’m fine, Tataru.”
“You’re acting feckless!”
“I’m making the most of my time.”
"If the other Scions could see you now—”
“Which they will soon enough, as soon as I finish these tasks,” Aleatoire abruptly rose to her feet, list in hand. “Sorry Tataru, I’m running late. I’ll talk to you next time!”
And she was out of the Rising Stones before the lalafell could even think to give chase, though her words caught up well enough.
“Just wait until I tell them!”
Out the doors and into the streets of Mor Dhona she went, summoning her chocobo and flying straight for crystal-scarred wastelands beyond. She didn’t head for her first task as promised, but landed in a suitable outcropping before doubling over to upend the contents of her stomach.
The shimmering, liquid-like light that landed on the dirt blended in well with the shining crystals around it, and Aleatoire felt slightly better even if her throat was on fire all over again. With a sigh, she wiped her lips and squinted at the spew.
It’s more than last time...
What were the chances she could just vomit out the whole mess before it tore her apart from the inside out?
Wishful thinking. At this point, she even suspected her organs might glow in the dark. An illuminating thought...no, stop the bad puns.
Of course she debated telling someone—in fact, Y’shtola had specifically instructed her to hide nothing. But it seemed that everyone was busy preparing for the climb to Mt. Gulg, whether it was organizing supplies, providing manpower, or overseeing building operations. For once she had no one to fight and nothing to do, not when her friends were insisting she made sure to rest in between everything. Truthfully, all she had to do was hold out until the last Lightwarden was defeated. It was just one more enemy.
Just one last fight before the return of night to Norvrandt.
She stumbled back out of the crystals, finally sinking to clean ground some distance away when the stabbing pains started up again. It always seemed to hurt more after she threw up the stuff, which was why she hadn’t tried doing it more often—that thing was poison to her body and it wouldn’t do to have herself be incapacitated in case of a fight. Of course, that was twisted logic in the first place if there was already something wrong, but as the Warrior of Light—
She suddenly snorted. No, maybe Worrier of Light is a better name...
With a sigh, Aleatoire leaned back and stared at the skies. Night was plentiful here, coming in regular clockwise cycles. The stars were out and the moon was shining, a serene sight for tired eyes. Nearby, her chocobo idly fluffed his feathers before letting out a soft kweh. She knew he’d watch over her if she decided to take a nap, and she was certainly tired enough for one...
...but no. Not yet. Not when there was still so much to be done.
“After years of just watching me fight for myself, you finally take a stand and it’s to stop me?”
She should still try to do something and make a difference while she could. Ilselle—after the fight that day, she never did get to see her sister again.
With a painful grunt, Aleatoire dragged herself to her feet and climbed slowly atop her mount. Tataru had called her feckless. But no, she was just desperate.
Ironically, it wasn’t running around and killing things that takes their toll on her most, but simply sitting in on one of the lessons at the new Doman Enclave schoolhouse. Between the sounds of rain and Minazuki explaining the history of the Rissai-juku, the world glowed alarmingly bright as something fractured inside her head.
To the outside world, it seems like the Warrior of Light interrupts the lesson mid-lecture by head-slamming into her desk.
—
When Aleatoire wakes again, it’s to a hard bed and a colorful ceiling—the distinctive wooden architecture of Doman housing painted with traditional colors and motifs. There is something cool and wet on her head—a towel that she tries to take off, only to be stopped by a hand on her wrist.
“Leave it be.”
The voice is soft but surprisingly firm, and Aleatoire glances off to the side to see a stern-faced Raen giving her a frown.
“Yugiri...”
“You have been rather irresponsible of late, my friend.”
Aleatoire tries for a smile. “That’s only the second time I’ve heard that today.”
“Today? It’s already been a week!” Footsteps accompany the third voice before one Tataru Taru strolls into the room, clicking her tongue while holding a tray of bottles that smelled faintly like medicine.
Aleatoire’s mind feels like exploding. An entire week? What about the First? What was Tataru doing in Kugane? Her Jumbo Cactpot numbers—
“Aleatoire, we need to talk,” Tataru’s voice cuts into her thoughts.
Uh-oh.
—
a/n: im tired today too 🥺😔
event info | prompt list | my entries
1 note
·
View note
Text
The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 49
TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 49
PAIRING: No Pairing
RATING: T
CHAPTER: 49/?
SUMMARY: Elise Smith is now a teenaged Timelord. In addition to losing the Ponds, the fields of Trenzalore are calling. But first they have to figure out exactly who Clara Oswald is.
[A/N - Prepare to have your hearts broken in this one.]
“A question only I could answer. A truth field to make sure I'm not lying. If I give my name, they'll know they've found the right place and that it's safe to come through,” the Doctor said.
“The Time Lords? Okay, so what then? If you answer the question and they come back, what happens?” Clara asked.
“Hell,” Elise answered.
The Doctor handed Clara a small round object. “Ah, you need to take this to the Tardis and put it in the charger slot for the sonic.”
“Why?”
“Elise is right. Hell. All hell, that's what happens if the Time Lords come back. There's half a universe up there already, waiting to open fire. Now please, go to the TARDIS and just do as I say.”
Clara ran out of the room.
“You’re sending her home, right?” Elise asked.
“This is between the Timelords and me,” he said.
Elise took her hand in his. “The Timelords and us.”
The Doctor offered her a small smile.
The moment was shattered by Tasha’s voice. “Doctor. Speak with me. Doctor! Face me now! Doctor!”
The Doctor put his jacket back on and they made their way to the bell chamber.
Tasha’s face hung in the sky.
“Mother Superious, there is only one thing I need from you. This planet, what's it called?” the Doctor asked.
“Trenzalore.”
Elise’s hearts stopped in her chest.
This was the end.
“If you speak your name, the Time Lords will return,” Tasha said.
“If they return, they will come in peace,” the Doctor told her.
“It doesn't matter. They will be met with a war that will never end. The Time War will begin anew. You know that, Doctor.”
“They're asking for my help!”
“And if you give it, war will be the consequence. I will not let that happen, at any cost. Speak your name and this world will burn.”
“No, this planet is protected.” He soniced the bell and it started ringing.
The citizens started to gather outside the tower.
Elise and the Doctor stepped out of the tower.
“So, you lot, a quick word, thank you. Spot of news. Christmas has a new sheriff. Hello, everyone. I'm the Doctor. And this my daughter Elise.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
There were many attacks on the town, but the Doctor and his daughter defeated them every time. Elise herself was becoming quite a warrior in her own right.
But something else happened on Trenzalore.
She fell in love. He was human of course. With sandy brown hair and green eyes.
Joey.
Elise came home one day to find her father sitting in his chair, working on toys for the children. “Maybe you should just retire and make toys,” she teased him.
He rarely did anything else nowadays. He’d aged in the many years they’d been here, his old age finally catching up with him.
When she wasn’t fighting, Elise worked at the schoolhouse. Clara would have been proud of her.
Elise hung up her scarf. She didn’t really need it, being a Timelord, but it had been a gift from Joey’s mother.
Elise walked over to the Doctor. He hadn’t greeted her when she entered the tower. “Dad? Is something wrong?” she asked him.
He looked up at her, sadness in his green eyes. He held out a letter.
“What’s this?” she asked. She took it from him and realized it was in Joey’s handwriting. She ripped it open and started reading. He’d gone to the front lines without telling her. Elise collapsed to the ground.
“Did…is he…?”
Her father just nodded and Elise felt her hearts shatter in her chest. Her sadness quickly morphed into anger and she ripped the letter up, chucking it into the fire. She reached for her scarf, but she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it. Instead, she stashed it deep in the chest where she kept her clothes.
She vowed she’d never love another man ever again. Elise pushed her lost love to the back of her mind and instead focused on the children. She loved the children and the children loved her and the Doctor.
They drew her and the Doctor pictures, which they hung up around their room in the tower.
It wasn’t as nice as her bedroom in the TARDIS, but it was home.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
One day, they heard the sound of the TARDIS engines.
“What is it? What's that noise?” Barnable, one of the children, asked.
“Well. Where have you been for three hundred years?” the Doctor yelled at the TARDIS.
Three hundred years? Was that how long they’d been here?
“What's that?”
“It's my ship.”
“Your what?”
“It's my TARDIS. That's how I got here in the first place.”
“Does this mean you're leaving?”
The TARDIS landed completely.
Clara was clutching onto the outside.
“What are you doing here?” the Doctor asked.
“I was in space.”
“Well, you were in the time vortex. She must have extended the force field. No wonder.” The Doctor pulled her off the TARDIS. “No wonder she's late, dragging you around.”
Clara turned to him with tears in her eyes. “You tricked me.”
“I saved you!”
“You didn't even say goodbye!”
“I'm furious with you!”
“Well, I am not even talking to you!”
They both started laughing and hugged.
They went inside the tower and Clara looked around. “Oh, Doctor. Fixing toys and fighting monsters.” She turned to Elise. “And what about you?”
“I teach,” Elise told her.
“The turkey isn't done yet,” the Doctor said, entering the room. He handed a few books to Elise. “TARDIS left these on the console.”
Elise smiled and ran her fingers down the spines. Her favorite books.
“Is it still asking the question?” Clara said, looking at the crack.
“Oh, never stops. Come upstairs. It's almost time.” The Doctor picked up Handles.
“What for?”
“Dawn. The light here lasts only a few minutes. You don't want to miss it.”
They went up to the bell chamber and the Doctor made a fire.
“Well, it's a standoff. They can't attack in case I unleash the Time Lords, and I can't run away, because they'll burn this planet to stop the Time Lords. Hey, after all these years, I've finally found somewhere that needs me to stick around. A town called Christmas. Could've been worse.” He adjusted Handles. “Right, there you go, buddy. Comfy?”
“Comfort is irrelevant,” Handles said.
He propped Handles up a bit more. “How's that, is that better?”
“Affirmative.”
“You just take it easy, buddy. He's getting old. I do my best for him, but I just can't get the parts, you know. Hey, I know the feeling.” The Doctor groaned as he tried to move.
“It’s fine. I’ll get it,” Elise told him. She reached over and handed him the bag of marshmallows.
“Where did you get those?” Clara asked.
“I have a supplier. The pink ones are best,” the Doctor told her.
“I have developed a fault,” Handles said.
“Hey, don't you worry, Handles. You're just dreaming. The sun's coming up very soon. You just hang on in there.”
“I have developed a fault. I…I have developed a fault.”
The Doctor picked Handles up. “Hey, Handles. Come on. Come on. One more dawn, you can do it. You've got it in you. Come on, just hang on in there.”
“Attention. Emergency. Attention.”
“Handles, what is it? What's wrong?”
“Urgent action required. You must patch the telephone device back through the console unit.” Handles’ lights faded out.
“Come back. Handles? Handles.” The Doctor sighed and Elise put a hand on his knee. “Thank you, Handles, and well done. Well done, mate.”
Handles was just one in a long line of people who had brought the Doctor comfort in these last few hundred years.
The sun rose between the mountains and the birds sung.
“What do you think of our new place?” the Doctor asked, “I come up here once a day for a few minutes, to remind myself of what it is I'm protecting.”
“It's beautiful. Why did you send me away?”
“Because if I hadn't, I'd have buried you a long time ago.”
“No, you wouldn't. I would never have let you get stuck here.”
“Everyone gets stuck somewhere eventually, Clara. Everything ends.”
“Except you.”
“Have you been paying attention? I'm an old man now.”
“But you don't die. You change. You pop right back up with a new face.”
“No, not for ever. I can change twelve times. Thirteen versions of me. Thirteen silly Doctors.”
“Okay, so you're number eleven, so...”
“Ha. Are we forgetting Captain Grumpy, eh? I didn't call myself the Doctor during the Time War, but it was still a regeneration.”
“Okay, so you're number twelve.”
“Well, number ten once regenerated and kept the same face. I had vanity issues at the time. Twelve regenerations, Clara. I can't ever do it again. This is where I end up. This face, this version of me. We saw this planet in the future, remember? All those graves, one of them mine.”
“What? No. No!” Elise cried. She’d lost so much and now she was going to lose him. How much longer could he hold on?
“Hey, Ellie. It’ll be alright. You’ve grown so much. You don’t need me anymore.”
“I’ll always need you.”
“We’ve had some good times, eh?”
The sun started to set.
“Change the future,” Clara told him.
“I can't.”
“You've got your TARDIS back.”
“Ha! You think I'm just going to fly away, abandon everyone?”
“Of course not. But you've been protecting this town for over three hundred years. Do you not think it's anybody else's go yet? Can’t Elise do it?”
“There is no one else to protect it. I’d never leave Elise to fight alone.”
“It's not going to be you forever. It'll end the same way, whatever you do.”
“Every life I save is a victory. Every single one.”
“What about your life? Just for once, after all this time, have you not earned the right to think about that?”
The Doctor looked at Clara.
“Sorry. Wrong thing to say. We shouldn't be having an argument.”
“Clara, I've been having that argument for the last three hundred years in my head.”
“But you didn't have your TARDIS.”
“Ah. Yes, well, that made it easier to stay. True.”
As the sun set, thunder rolled in.
“Doctor!” Tasha’s voice said.
“Ah. Look who's woken up.”
Tasha’s face appeared in the sky. “The Church of the Silence requests parlay. Your rights and safety are sanctified.”
“I'll be right up.”
“I'm sending a transporter.”
“Nah, don't bother. I've got me motor back.”
“It's gone dark,” Clara said.
“Yeah, well, the sun's gone down.”
“Already?”
“Everything ends, Clara. And sooner than you think.”
#eleventh doctor#eleventh doctor imagines#eleventh doctor fanfiction#doctor who#Doctor Who fanfiction#doctor who imagine#clara oswald#clara oswald imagine#the littlest timelord#the littlest timelord: the fall of the eleventh#time of the doctor
8 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
kokhabox
kokhabox.id
motherlytm-blog
MOLLYWOBBLES
cherriesandcreametarot
cherries and creame tarot
rubenildosantos1805
Sem título
filipinacolada
The Lime in the Coconut