#short posts have always been preferred but it's safe to ramble here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tittyblade · 3 years

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tumblr etiquette 101

a list that is nowhere near exhaustive, from yours truly.

First off, welcome! Whether you’re a twitter veteran looking for anything but whatever twitter is, or a new user just done signing up, glad to see you in our ranks beloveds! Welcome home. Refer to this quick tour to make sure your fandom experience (or tumblr experience in general) is a positive one!

Disclaimer: I know it’s long, but please try to read or skim through til the end if you’re new here! This is by no means meant to be a rule book (for the most part lol), only a guide to help you get settled easier!

1) Your blog

This is where people will see and interact with you, so put some effort into it!

Try to choose a name (url) that’s simple. You can see it as your brand, it’s how people will perceive you and remember you. If you’d like to interact with other users here (and not use the site just for the content) it’s better to have something short and sweet, preferably without spaces. (Of course, these are only suggestions.) Rest assured, you can change it literally any time you want.

Have a theme. Utilize the tool that lets you edit your blog’s color or the font of your bio! You can make it match your profile picture, or your blog if it has a theme of its own. Make it feel homey :]

Fill in your bio. People will be checking out your profile probably more often than you think. Don’t leave it empty! Put in any information you’re comfortable with sharing and isn’t too personal (like your age if you’re a minor, or other TMI that can be found on other people’s carrds). It’s always better to add a name/nickname people can use to refer to you by, but feel free to use your blog description to shitpost still.

You can have an intro post. More often than not, you’ll see a blog have a pinned post, a post permanently appearing at the top of a blog until you pin another post or unpin it. You can make one of those, if you’d like to introduce yourself in more length, link any other socials or a carrd, and show others visiting your blog how you tag things so it’ll be easy for them to navigate. Not an obligation.

Keep your anonymity and your safety. It should go without saying, but there’s no harm in repeating it just in case. Your comfort, privacy and safety has the utmost importance. Don’t share any information you don’t want to. Don’t share your age if you’re a minor, or any other incredibly personal info. I’d encourage you to go by a nickname that’s not your real name, (blog name, your brand, remember?) since there’s safety in anonymity, and that’s lowkey one of the big deals of tumblr, but that’s up to you still.

Choose what you want to be visible. Your liked posts and who you follow are all things you can set to keep to yourself and hide from the publics eye, how handy! You should go through all the setting while you’re at it, set it to your comfort.

Side blogs are a thing. You can have multiple blogs that you can use for different things (see: different fandoms, art blog, etc) to keep them organized or away from your followers. Just remember that the replies and off-anon asks you send will be from your main blog, as well as where you follow other blogs from.

2) Interacting with others

You’ve set up your account, now comes the fun part!

Follow to your heart’s desire. If you care about others seeing who you follow, fear not! In tumblr, usually only two types of blogs keep their following visible to others: newbies, and big blogs using it to point people on other good blogs’ direction. Just turn it off, and go ham following people.

Customize your dashboard. Gonna mention just two things here: this is another reason why it’s really important that you follow blogs without sparing, your dash will collect dust otherwise; and you should turn off “best stuff first” in your dashboard settings, to have a better community here and all.

Follow tags. You can set it in your settings that posts with your followed tags appear on your dashboard.

You can check the og post for edits and context. When you see a reblogged post you don’t understand the context of (or don’t recognize the character in case of fanarts), click on the profile so it will take you to the original post. From there you can check the original poster’s tags to get the context, or see if there have been any edits made to the post, since when you edit a post it doesn’t update any past reblogs.

Send people asks... This is how you make mutuals, people! Do it off-anon if you’d like them to know your blog, or anon if you’d rather not! (You can still end your messages with a signature to show you’re the same person, -[name] is one example.) Send them nice messages, ask their opinion on something, discuss things, or just straight up shitpost lol. Go wild. The sky’s your limit and it’s definitely more than 280 characters.

...and let them ask you! You can set your preference in the settings, do it on desktop tumblr to access more settings tho! What you can customize on mobile is limited (like letting people ask you things anonymously, that’s only on desktop settings). In my personal opinion, it’s always better to tag their username (or a nickname you give them, if they’re a friend) on that post, since you wouldn’t want your interactions with your friends to get buried in your blog forever.

Comment on posts. If you have something to say but don’t want the post to appear on your blog you can add a comment. The owner of the post will get a notif for it, but for anyone else you need to tag them.

For the love of god, reblog. People will only see your liked posts if you have it visible to public and they specifically go on your blog to look at them. You like something? You reblog. It’s already hard for posts to circulate properly, if you don’t reblog them literally no one will see them. If not for anything do it for the artists. Just hold and drag on mobile to fast rb.

3) Your Posts

Finally here! Don’t be a lurker, post and engage!

Make use of “read more”. If your post is long, add it. That’s what you clicked on earlier to expand this post. On desktop leave an empty line and you’ll see three dots appear, and on mobile type :readmore: on that empty line.

Draft a post to come back to it later. Pretty self explanatory.

Queue your post. Whether it’s your own post or you’re reblogging, make use of the queue feature to a) not spam reblog and fill up the dashboard of people following you and b) keep your blog active while you’re gone. Mess around in the settings, it’s fairly easy to set up.

Schedule your post. Same as queueing, the only difference is you get to choose the exact time your post will go up. Handy if you want to schedule a post for certain dates like april fools, or 5 years in the future for some reason.

Format your texts. You can do all kinds of fancy stuff here (that’s a link, try pressing on it). Twitter doesn’t have this, make use of it. Changes depending on whether you’re on mobile or desktop. (Desktop has less features.)

Check your stats. If you’re trying to understand the algorithm better or want to look at some pretty graphs you can get your data on that on desktop tumblr.

@ people in comments. You’ll get all the notifs when people comment on your posts but they won’t see your reply unless you tag them in your message.

4) Tags, and tagging a post

This is where my earlier statement “this isn’t a rule book” stops being applicable. It’s not a war crime to go against these, I won’t come chasing you (don’t take my word for this) but you’ll work up a bad rep. Just saying lol.

Do NOT crosstag posts. It’s really tempting to add unrelated tags to increase your posts’ interaction, I know, but that’s not what tumblr is about. Don’t be a dick and make other communities’ experience worse for them.

Always tag your posts with “crit/critical/discourse/etc” if it calls for it. There’s no exceptions to it. This is the reason you see people migrating to tumblr. Let people enjoy things.

Don’t main tag a critical/negative post. If your crit post is about “Thing”, you add the “Thing critical” tag, but not the “Thing” tag. People block crit tags if they don’t want to see it, don’t shove it in their faces by main tagging it.

If you don’t want to see something, just block it. Another reason why people are able to survive on tumblr. You don’t start discourse, you don’t make call-outs, you block. You can find something for every community you can think of if you go looking for it. The worst of the worst probably won’t ever appear on your dash, but if you’re worried or feel the need for it, you know where the block button is.

Feel free to shitpost or ramble. More often than not you’ll see people rb a post with a comment, and their elaboration will be in the tags. The tags are only visible on your profile and the notifications of the owner of the og blog. Just a thing people do.

Reblog artists’ posts with nice comments in the tags! Commenting on a drawing is usually done through the tags (Not an obligation, again, just a thing people do. Feel free to add your comment on the rb itself if you’d want other people to see it tho!) and leave nice messages for the artists! It’s a win-win for everyone involved.

If you have more than a single follower, always use the common tw warning tags. You don’t need to tw everything, but tw’ing some common things is the bare minimum human decency. Keep it safe for others.

Tag a post “long post” if it’s really long. Pretty self explanatory. Don’t make people scroll through all that please lol.

You can use them to organize your blog. This is more of a pro tip, if you’d like to not miss a post in your blog, cause they will start pilin’ up soon enough.

#Liveblogging is pretty fun. If you’d like to talk to people during streams, don’t forget to add the relevant tags still! Again, you won’t show up on people’s dash otherwise.

Whew! That got out of hand. Hopefully I didn’t bore you too much. Check out blogs like @heritageposts and @hellsite-hall-of-fame to honor our past o7. @mcytblr-hall-of-fame too maybe :eyes:. Anyways, don’t forget the most important rule of them all:

Enjoy your stay! You’re meant to have fun on here while also making friends (if that’s your thing). Just be kind and respectful of others, you’ll get the hang of the rest! <3

#mcyttwt #mcytblr #dream team #dream smp #mcyt #dsmp #tumblr #how to tumblr #gonna tag ppl now so more users will see it lol #dreamwasteken #georgenotfound #karl jacobs #technoblade #sbi #twitter #twitter discourse #sbitwt #sleepytwt #sleepy bois inc #HOLY shit this took so long omg my back literally hurts rn #the fuckin lengths i go to make sure tumblr doesnt get tainted w twt LMAO #anyways if youre seeing this you should follow me look at how sexy i am i spent the last 2+ hours typing this goddamn list out #also: ignore how i literally sound like its 2014 at some parts here lol i tried my best #also ignore how wack the paragraph breaks are tumblrs formatting hates me and its 4 am im too tired for this #third also: some bits here are supposed to be ironic keep that in mind pls #rolan.txt #long post #save #yes im tagging my own post as save what about it

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chasingpj · 3 years

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𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬

"I might spread a rumor about you and Percy rendezvousing at midnight. The Aphrodite cabin will have a hoot with that one."

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 4,931

warnings: none

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story, click here

a/n: hi hi! this is part one of a self-insert series I'm working on. in this story, y/n is a child of hecate, and this storyline follows the books. the current timeline here is post sea of monsters and will continue through the Heroes of Olympus books. though it follows the original plot, y/n has her own storyline and quests. i tried to make y/n gender-neutral but as I continued to work on the timeline for this project, i had decided that this fic is for a fem reader. guys, this is really just me projecting my fantasy into fanfiction lol. i feel like this is a slow start?? and there is a lot of info dumped in this so bear with me. it'll get better and I'll be working to improve my writing as the series continues. I was on a writing hiatus for a really long time and I'm out of practice so this is my way to get back and hopefully, exceed the skills I had when I was a consistent writer. anyways, if you have any feedback, let me know! I'd love to hear what you think. as i get deeper into the series, i might ask for some suggestions on what to do with the fic. anyways, i'll stop rambling and i hope you like it!

Part One Part Two

You ignore the aching in your neck as your focus is fixed on the herbology book in front of you. You’ve been seated at your desk for Zeus knows how long reading and taking notes in your Book of Shadows, determined to finish reading it as fast as possible. Your half-brother, Alabaster, insisted that you need to memorize all the herbs and their properties before he can properly teach you how to use them in potions. Even though you understand its importance, you hated introductory work. You are itching to get to the real stuff, resulting in you glued to your chair, studying through the night as your cabin mates were fast asleep in their beds. But as determined as you are, Ambrose, your familiar, wasn’t much help. Ambrose whines as he rubs his head against your legs like a needy kitten, making it difficult to ignore him.

“What is it, Ambrose?” You whisper, sitting back in your chair in defeat. You take a second to massage the back of your sore neck before turning to face the translucent hound sitting attentively at your side. His tail sweeps the floor as it wags excitedly, and a short huff leaves his snout as if he was proud to have finally gotten your attention.

Your eyes meet his, racking your mind to figure out what Ambrose needs to tell you. At first, you thought he wanted to play, but you didn’t have time for that, so you decided to ignore him. Usually, after being ignored for a while, Ambrose will give up, finding something else to occupy him. But tonight, he was particularly persistent, and he’s only like this when he needs to tell you something.

Before you can ask what he wanted again, Ambrose gets up from his seated position, running over to the small table that stands beside your bed. You furrow your eyebrows, the first thing you notice when you walk over are your crystals neatly placed in front of your spell books as usual. Seeing them made you suddenly remember what you had planned to do.

You had told Ambrose to remind you to charge your crystals and collect water from the lake since there is a full moon tonight and of course, Ambrose being your loyal companion, did exactly that. Before looking down at the hound, who now is breathing heavily, his tail somehow wagging faster than before, you smile to yourself.

“I told you to remind me earlier, didn’t I?” Ambrose snorts and runs around your feet enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but giggle at his excitement as you reached down to pat his head. “Good boy. What would I do without you?” You continue to praise him, grabbing a black pouch and carefully placing the crystals in it. You put your index finger to your lips, signaling Ambrose to be a little quieter despite his excitement. If he accidentally wakes anyone up, then you definitely weren’t going to be able to fulfill your plans.

You bite your bottom lip as you tiptoe out of the aisle between the bunks. You look around the notoriously cramped Hermes Cabin to make sure your assumption that everyone was asleep by now was correct. It wasn’t hard to make out the faces of your cabin mates since seeing clearly in the dark was one of your many gifts, so you carefully walked along the bunks, being as quiet as you could. You are especially cautious as you approach the front where your cabin leaders, the Stoll brothers, slept. You study them for a second, knowing for sure Travis was asleep since he was snoring and loudly at that. Before you can check if Connor is asleep, you hear him shifting in his bed. You stand frozen in your spot, hesitantly looking over and you were expecting to be met with the usual mischievous grin. Instead, his back was towards you now. You have a feeling in your gut that he wasn't asleep, the timing of his moving was much too convenient. You really didn't want to wait any longer though so you decide that you might as well leave before he could stop you.

You turn on your heels, walking over to the window before you push it open. You cringe softly as the hinges creak, and you look back at the cabin to double-check if anyone has woken up from the sound. You sigh in relief when you see no one has moved, and you turn back to the window, carefully crawling out of it. This wasn’t unusual for you. You’ve done this so many times that using windows as a mode of exiting and entering a room was as natural to you as walking in and out of a door, and soon you were hopping down onto the grass. Your back is pressed against the cabin as you walk the side of it. You look up at the trees and the sky, eyes scoping around for any harpies hanging around. After deeming that you were alone, you begin making your way to the lake, Ambrose walking by your side attentively and cautiously to make sure you are safe.

The night was clear; the stars and especially the moon shone brightly in the sky. You sigh softly, taking in the stillness of the night, admiring the glistening lake reflecting the full moon placed above it. You’ve always enjoyed how quiet and cool the nights were, preferring it more than the daytime.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid it as much as you wish to. Most of your siblings can agree with you that they’d prefer to sleep in most days so that they can study and practice their magic at night. However, that wasn’t the schedule of the Hermes Cabin. It was pretty impossible to sleep in since the mornings were always hectic. In fact, the cabin was just hectic, period. There was always something going on, whether it was an elaborate prank or the guys arguing over who gets to shower first after coming back from training which usually resulted in an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. You can’t say that you didn’t like it; at least you were entertained.

You also always had someone to talk to, and because there were often new campers coming in and out of there, you have easily familiarized yourself with a lot of the kids at camp. However, like your mother, you did enjoy and yearn for the occasional periods of solitude. As fun as living with the Hermes kids was, you and your siblings did find yourselves getting a little irritable at their shenanigans. It was at those times, you did wish that your mother, Hecate, had a designated cabin.

You and your siblings had always said if they ever got a cabin of their own, they would make sure everyone had separate rooms and would have designated spaces to socialize and practice their magic so that it was quiet for the most part. Alabaster, especially, was really passionate about this topic. He complained how it didn’t make sense that your mother wasn't recognized since you and your siblings were a powerful little bunch. You all needed a space to practice your magic and practice preferably at night since you were the most powerful at that time of day; you were also less prone to making mistakes in your spell casting at night. You agreed with him and would get upset about it sometimes, but the Hermes Cabin was a place you considered to be a second home. The communal feel of the space was something you enjoyed, it was one of the few places where you felt fully accepted which was rare to find being a demi-god with abilities like yours. In return to the Hermes Cabin welcoming you with open arms, you accept the inconveniently loud environment as an admirable quirk and went on with your days.

Then to compensate for the lack of silence and solitude, you would often stay up late, taking advantage of the quiet to focus on your studies. Even if you had to sacrifice the amount of sleep you got, you felt like it was worth it.

It doesn’t take you long to arrive at the dock, sitting down close to the end with your legs folded under you. You first collect lake water in a jar before carefully taking out the pouch's crystals. Assuming you had only a few left in the pouch after laying most of them on the dock, you tilt it with your hand under it, only for the crystals to come out all at once. You fumble, hands trying to bring them to your chest, but with your luck, one of your crystals falls right into the water with a plop.

“Dammit!” You peer over the edge and groan, Ambrose whining at your misfortune as he stands beside you. You look down at the water, noticing Ambrose’s and your dim reflection in it. There was no way you could get that crystal now because you didn't know how to swim, and you consider that maybe tomorrow you can convince your twin brother, Atticus, to look for it or Alabaster if Atticus refused, which you were expecting him to.

Your breath hitches at the back of your throat, jumping back as a head of dark hair abruptly pops up from right where you were staring. Ambrose barks loudly next to you, equally as startled, and your eyes widen. You stand up hastily at the realization that Ambrose's loud barks in the dead of night will catch the attention of the harpies, and right now, that was more important to you than the mysterious person that just sprouted up in the water like a zombie coming out of a grave.

“Shush! Ambrose, quiet!” Your frantic command was enough to make him stop with a whine, and you sigh shakily, turning towards the camp to check if there were any harpies.

“I think you dropped something.” Ambrose moves in front of you protectively, a low growl coming from his chest as he cautiously studies the person. You look back where the voice came from and to your surprise and your relief, you find that the mysterious person in the lake was no other than Percy Jackson. You never had a conversation with him before, but you definitely knew about him. It was kind of hard not to know who he is since he’s been the talk of the camp since he’s arrived. Your thoughts about him weren’t any different from most of the camp. You’ve seen him fight and use his powers during capture the flag, and you were just as impressed as everyone else. You did have to admit that you found him to be pretty cute too. His eyes were gorgeous, clear, and bright like a shallow, cyanic sea. You also found it adorable how his hair always looked a little disheveled.

Your (e/c) eyes met Percy’s green ones before looking at your rose quartz in his hand. You smile sheepishly, noticing the amused look on his face.

“Ah, yeah, that’s mine.” You walk over to him, but as you get closer, so does Ambrose, and his growls get louder. "Ambrose, heel. It's okay," you say softly, and he stops in his place, but his stance is still at alert, his eyes watching Percy cautiously. You pat Ambrose's head before walking past him and over to Percy. "Thanks," you smile, taking your rose quartz from his hand.

"No problem… I don't think your ghost dog likes me," Percy jokes, moving to look past your legs at Ambrose, who’s standing tall on your left side.

"Yeah, well, you kinda scared the crap out of us," you point out, amused. You take in Percy's goofy smile as he pulls himself up from the water, and you notice that he’s completely dry as he settles on the edge before turning his body to look at you.

“It’s y/n, right?” He asks, and you nod, figuring he’s probably heard about you in passing from Connor and Travis since he was friends with them too. “What are you doing out here so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you retort playfully, making him smile. You move to sit down where you were standing. You spread the crystals neatly on the wood, making a mental note to get them before you go to bed.

"I couldn't sleep, so I came out here to hang out, but then a hippocampus swam up. One of its friends got stuck in a fisher's net not too far from here, so I went to help," he explains, and you nod. "I told you my excuse, so what's yours?"

You hum, "It's a full moon out tonight, so I thought I should take my crystals out. I also needed moon water for a potion, so I collected some for that," you point over at the big mason jar full of lake water. "It’s not as cool as your excuse,” you say playfully.

A short laugh comes from Percy, and when you look up from your crystals, you notice he was looking at Ambrose again, who was still in his tense stance. Ambrose was especially protective of you and Atticus, and it wasn’t unusual for him to be cautious of the new people you come across. You assumed that Ambrose was particularly tense with Percy since he had successfully caught you both by surprise.

"Ambrose, relax.” You pat the top of his head to soothe him. "Lay down." Ambrose whines, licking your hand affectionately for a little, and you can tell he was still uneasy about the other. He was hesitant, but he follows your command anyway, laying down with his head on your lap.

"You can touch him?" Percy asks, his eyes wide and curious as he watches you pet Ambrose.

"Yeah, I can touch ghosts in general. My mother is Hecate, goddess of necromancy, along with magic, the night and the moon," you tell him. "This is Ambrose. My mother gifted him to me to be my familiar, kinda like a guardian." You look down at the hound, smiling softly as you scratch behind his ear softly.

Ambrose is a burly Molossian Hound who lived in the time of Alexander The Great. From what your father told you, his breed was well valued in Ancient Greek and Roman times and was often used in war. It is easy to understand why the breed was used in war. Ambrose is huge and muscular, about 6 feet tall when he stands on his hind legs, and he weighs around 200 pounds. At first, Ambrose can come off as a little intimidating. You remember how your siblings had avoided him when you first arrived at camp before they realized that he was the clearest definition of a gentle giant. Even though he was trained to fight when he was alive, he was still as gentle as a well-trained house dog unless he was given a reason not to be.

"When did you get him?" Percy asks, his eyes focusing on Ambrose’s translucent body that looked like it is made up of this gray swirling vapor. He couldn’t exactly wrap his head around how Ambrose’s head was comfortably propped up on your thigh.

"We met on the night I was on my way to Camp so about 2 years ago. Without him, my brother and I probably would have never made it to the borders.” You look up at Percy, meeting his eyes again; you watch as his face softens as he shifts to lean back on his hand.

"Really?" You hum and nod, ready to drop the conversation there, thinking you shouldn’t bore him with the details. You didn’t really like talking about it much, but the way he was looking at you made you feel like he was inviting you to continue talking.

"We got separated from our father at the gas station a couple of miles away from here. He went inside the convenience store to get us snacks, and while he was in there, a cyclops had found us, tried to grab us out of his car. We jumped out and ran into the woods nearby," you explain as you look out at the dark horizon.

You remember the sound of your father yelling after you and Atticus and how it broke your heart hearing, for the first time, such despair in his voice. You knew your dad didn’t want to bring you guys to camp, but he knew it was in Atticus’s and your best interest to come here and be with other people like you guys.

When you and Atticus started developing your powers, your father had simply told you guys that you were special and to refrain from using your telekinesis anywhere else but home. He didn’t say anything more until one night, you and Atticus had gotten in a screaming match about a reason you don’t even remember. However, in your screaming match, the both of you were so angry that a green aura had formed around you both, and books, magazines, even cutlery were being flown across the room because of the sheer energy you were admitting as a unit. It was then your father had decided to take you and Atticus to the camp to control and learn about your powers before you guys destroyed the house over a dumb argument like who’s turn is it to have the TV remote.

"We were more concerned about the monster hurting our dad, so we decided on a whim to run in the forest. My brother and I have telekinesis powers, and I aimed well enough to send a rock right at the cyclops eye. We lost him a little after that, but we didn't know where we were. We made too many twists and turns; we had no idea what direction we came from. And then, this buddy appeared out of nowhere from a distance. I saw him glowing from far away and couldn’t make out what he was, but I felt that I had to follow him. So we did, and he got us to camp with no detours for any other monsters. He's been with me ever since," you say, and a low whine comes from Ambrose’s mouth as he nuzzles the side of his face on your thigh contentedly.

Percy nods, and he huffs softly, "You guys got lucky. How old were you and your brother when you got to camp?"

"12, we're twins. We actually got here a couple of weeks after you did,” you mention. You watch Percy’s mouth curve into a half-smirk.

“Wow," he says, amused, and shakes his head. “So you have a twin and a dead dog, no fair," he jokes. You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully,

"Oh please, and you have crazy water powers. You’re completely dry after swimming! I think that's pretty envy-worthy."

"Hey-,” he shrugs, taking a second as if to form a protest. “I guess you're right,” he admits and laughs. You laugh with him, opening your mouth to say something else but unfortunately, you were interrupted by a screech echoing in the distance.

Both you and Percy stand up quickly, trying to figure out which direction it came from. “The harpies,” you both mutter in unison. You bend down to grab your things, and you look at Ambrose.

"Go distract them, bud," you tell him, and Ambrose jumps up to his feet, and you watch as he runs away, barking to get their attention. Just then, you see the wings of the Harpies coming up from the trees of the forest. You turn to Percy, grabbing his hand quick,

“Incantare: Transpectus!" You exclaim confidently, closing your eyes to envision you and Percy becoming transparent on the dock. You've never tried doing this spell before, but you've gotten better at visualizing and setting intentions, so you had some hope in yourself. You open your eyes, not feeling any different, and you hoped that you just didn't make a fool of yourself in front of Percy. But when you look down at your hand hesitantly and notice it was hard to make out since you were see-through like glass, you sigh in relief. You smile to yourself, more than satisfied that you were able to pull that off.

"Woah, are we invisible?" You look over at Percy, able to see him just fine since he was under the spell with you. Percy looks down at himself, eyes widened as he processes he can’t see his body anymore. You observe him for a second, finding it cute how he looked surprised and obviously entertained at the fact that he was completely see-through. You feel yourself growing a little flustered, trying not to focus too much on the fact that you were holding hands with him.

"Something like that. C'mon, it won’t last too long," you whisper, and your grip around his hand tightens as you guys begin running to his cabin. You hear the harpies screeching in frustration as they swoop down to try and grab Ambrose, only for their claws to go right through him. While the harpies were growing more annoyed, Ambrose, on the other hand, was having way too much fun, running in circles and barking at them as if he’s teasing.

"Man, I wish I had a ghost dog," you hear Percy mutter behind you as you arrive at the steps of his cabin.

"Yeah, Ambrose is pretty great," you admit, watching him play with the harpies before shifting your gaze over to Percy. "Thanks for getting the crystal for me." As much as you wanted to stay talking to him, you knew you couldn't stay too long. You were still eager to finish studying, and Ambrose can only hold off the harpies for so long.

"It was no problem. It was on my way up anyways," he shrugs, and you smile, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You look down, the two of you still holding hands even though the spell wore off already. You awkwardly let go of his hand, shifting on your feet.

"Well, I'll see you around," you say sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers.

"Yeah, I'll see you.” His hand comes up in an awkward wave. You nod, returning the wave. Your eyes meet Percy’s green ones one more time before turning on your heels and walking down the steps of his cabin. You notice that Ambrose is now long gone into the forest, taking the harpies with him to give you time to rush to the other side where your cabin is.

As you hurry back to your cabin, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you replayed the interaction you just had with Percy, and you couldn't help but wonder when would be the next time you could talk to him.

You carefully hoist yourself up, climb back into the cabin through the window, sighing softly once you get in. You slowly close the window, your face scrunching at the creaking sound, but you successfully get it closed before turning around, only to be faced with Connor Stoll standing a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest. You gasp loudly, almost dropping the mason jar in your hand, being startled for the second time tonight.

“Oh, look who’s back,” he says, his lips pulled in his usual mischievous smirk, his right eyebrow raised as if he's suspicious of you. You shift, giggling nervously under his graze,

"Hey, Con.” Shit. You knew he wasn’t asleep, and a part of you wasn’t surprised that he had caught you sneaking out again. You weren’t too worried since Connor wasn’t one to be strict or easily angered, neither was Travis, but you can understand if he did get a little upset with you since the cabin could also get in trouble, and he worried about you getting hurt.

"You leave so often, I'm starting to think you're seeing someone," he teases, and you furrow your eyebrows, not really sure what he was trying to get at.

"I'm not seeing anyone. You know what I do when I sneak out," you tell him, putting your hand out to show him the jar full of water. After being caught the first couple of times, you had explained to Connor why you occasionally needed to head out at night. He was understanding of your reasons, telling you to try and not sneak out as often. When he did catch you, he always kept your outings secret. It came with a price, though. You were sometimes stuck doing extra chores, especially anything that had to do with cleaning, since he hated doing anything that had to do with mopping or sweeping.

"So that wasn't you and Percy on the dock?" Your eyes widen, and you feel your face get hot again. You shake your head, stumbling over your words for a second.

"Uh… n- that was a coincidence!" You hear him snort, laughing quietly as if he didn't believe you. Even though he couldn't see your facial expression very well in this lighting, he can still tell how flustered you were at his sudden question.

"Yeah, sure," he says sarcastically, and he hums, "Anyways, what are you going to do for me so that I don't tell on you?" He asks, and your mouth drops open. Usually, he wasn't so forward, and he never threatened to tell on you. "I might spread a rumor about you and Percy rendezvousing at midnight. The Aphrodite cabin will have a hoot with that one."

You gasp, "Connor, are you blackmailing me right now?" You narrow your eyes at him, and he shrugs,

"I guess you can say I am." You shake your head, walking over to your desk to put down your moon water before turning toward him and crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"... what do you want?" You ask, expecting him to make you take up one of his chores. But from the way he was smiling at you, you can tell that there was something more he wanted, and you were beginning to worry.

"Help me turn the Ares Cabin into bunnies," he says, and you shake your head frantically,

"No way! Clarisse will kill me," you whisper. Connor smiles,

"No, she won't. She can't kill you if she's a bunny," he points out, and your face falls flat,

"They're not gonna stay bunnies forever," you say, and you fiddle with your fingers nervously at the idea of the outrage you'd get from the Ares Cabin after shifting back from being bunnies. "I don't know, Con. I don't even know if I can turn all of them into bunnies at once."

Connor waves his hand at you, dismissing your concern. "I don't care for the logistics now. We can work on that later, but you have to agree to at least help me," he says. "Or I'm telling everyone I saw you smooching Percy on the dock."

"What!? We didn't even kiss. We talked for like 5 minutes!" You whisper-yell, your reactions much too entertaining for him, and he was having a hard time holding in his laugh.

"Your decision, y/n."

You sigh, throwing your head back. You look at the ceiling for a second as you consider your two choices. And you decide that getting your head potentially put on a stick by Clarisse was better than the burning embarrassment of Percy thinking you're spreading rumors about kissing him. "Fine, whatever. I'll help you do the bunny thing," you mumble, your shoulders slouched.

Connor nods with a proud smile on his face for trapping you into helping him. "Good choice. I will be going back to sleep now. Good night… again," he announces, turning on his heels and walking over to his bed. You frown a little as you walk back to your desk to study. Plopping down onto your chair, you decide that you’ll worry about Connor’s little plan later so you can focus on your studying. After a while, Ambrose comes trotting in, joining you by the desk as usual. You smile at him, praising the other for distracting the harpies for you before he lays down, his head laying on your foot.

As you study, you find that you couldn’t help your mind drifting back to Percy once and a while. You deem that there was no way that you could have a crush on him since you guys have only spoken once. In the midst of your internal debate to decide what you felt for him, you suddenly remember the crystal that was retrieved for you. You remember how Percy presented it to you, holding it out for you with his fingertips. It was your rose quartz. What a coincidence. You smile, rolling your eyes as you tell yourself that you’re thinking too much into it. You look over, noticing the dim illuminating light of the beginning sunrise shining through the curtains. You sigh, deciding that you should probably get to sleep and take advantage of the maybe, four hours of sleep you’ll get tonight. You close your herbology book before making your way to your bed, and with a soft sigh, you retreat under the covers, and finally, you surrender to your drowsiness.

masterlist

#percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #connor stoll #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson fic #slow burn #friends to lovers #connor stoll x reader #percy jackson oneshot #pjo #my writing

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aperrywilliams · 3 years

Text

New blurbs-series: 10 days to my birthday!! (Day 3)

(Not my gif)

Author Masterlist - Series Masterlist

My birthday will be in 3 days from now. So I’m going to celebrate myself with 10 Spencer Reid’s blurbs. Enjoy!. Well, this can´t be called a blurb... maybe I need to change the name series to “mini-fics-series”.

Day 10 | Day 09 | Day 08 | Day 07 | Day 06 | Day 05 | Day 04 | Day 03 | Day 02 | Day 01

Day 03: Spencer Reid says he loves you for the first time.

Through the time you have worked at the BAU, your skills in the field improved considerably. In the beginning you avoided having physical contact with the unsubs - if you weren't trying to persuade them by negotiating, your best tactic was to point a gun at them. But as the months go by, melee fights were no longer a problem for you. You understood perfectly why Morgan liked to kick doors so much. Deep down inside you felt as you liked kicking asses. Which seemed to be a contradiction in itself but at the same time a good strategy: people seeing you would not think that you are a person who would opt for a hand-to-hand fight.

That earned you several injuries: after two years working at the BAU you had already been stabbed twice, shot in the leg once, shot in the shoulder twice, and earned some contusions on the head. You didn't consider yourself an reckless person in the field, just that sometimes the job demanded more exposure.

That was something your now three month-boyfriend Spencer didn't like at all. Whenever there was an operation in the field you could see how his body tensed just thinking what could happen to you this time.

“We have to use a bait, otherwise we won't be able to catch it,” were Hotch's words as you discussed your options during a case in Denver.

“Well, how do we do it?”. Rossi asked.

“We need to come back to the victimology,” Prentiss stated. Hotch nodded.

“White women, in their thirties, with an attractive personality...,” JJ began to describe. Spencer immediately shook his head.

“…With the same hair and eye color as (Y/N). No guys, that's not going to happen. We won't use (Y/N) as bait,” Spencer rushed to say. You immediately looked at him with a disapproving expression.

“Excuse me? I remind you guys that I am here and you are talking about me,” you said with some exhaustion. “And Spencer, I suppose it's a decision for me to make, right?”

“(Y/N) is right, it's her decision. But the way I see it, it seems like our best option,” Morgan stated.

“Okay, let's think about the pros and cons. What can go wrong?”. You asked to the team.

“Everything!”. Spencer started to raise his voice. “How can't everyone see it? Didn't you see the photographs of the victims? Do you realize what he did to them? He could do the same to (Y/N)!”. Spencer ran his hands through his hair in disbelief that no one would notice the impending danger.

“Reid, we know of your apprehensions, but it's the best we have right now. Besides (Y/N) won't be alone, we'll be covering all the entrances to the place and we'll have agents stationed inside too,” Hotch tried to reason with Spencer, but he only had his eyes fixed on you.

“Are you going to do it?”. He asked you. Spencer knew what your answer was going to be, so he knew perfectly well that he was cornering you in front of everyone.

“Yes, I will do it”, you told him without hesitation. Spencer got up and left the room without saying another word.

You really understood Spencer's concerns about your safety a lot, but that's what this job was like and when you took it you knew there could be situations like this. Furthermore, Spencer was not the example of self-care in the field: he had also been shot and beaten on more than one occasion. In addition to his inability to keep his bulletproof vest on.

Before starting the preparations for the night's operation, you tried to talk to him. Neither when you started to be friends nor now that you had been in a relationship for a few months have you both been upset with each other for long.

You found him sitting on a bench outside the station. When he saw you, he barely made eye contact with you. He preferred to look at his shoes again. You sat quietly, trying to find the right words to start that conversation.

“Spencer...”

“Yes, I know. I understand this job works this way. I have also done the same before. I’ve never doubted your capabilities (Y/N). If you felt that I'm sorry...,” he said without taking off his eyes off the floor.

“Please, look at me,” you asked almost in a whisper. It hurt to see him like this. He hesitated but did what you asked. “Spencer, I know you are worried about me and I’ve never wanted to contribute to that concern, but you’re right when you say that this is the way this job is. We all risk something more than once. It's not the idea, but sometimes it happens...”. You subtly tried to hold his hand and he let you.

“I know, but... but now it's different...,” he muttered trying to avoid your gaze again.

“Why do you say that?”. You asked him.

“Well, at least for me it's different. I mean, I've always been concerned about the safety of the whole team, but... thinking about the times you've been injured in the field and now that we're together... just thinking that something could happen to you... I don't know. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I wouldn't know what to do if something happened to you...,” he rambled.

“Spencer, for me being with you these three months has been one of the best things that has happened to me and of course I want to have the opportunity to continue discovering things with you...,” you tried to reassure him.

“You don't understand... it's not just that we're a couple... it's more than that…,” he trailed off.

You looked at him strangely. What was disturbing him in this way now that you hadn’t seen in the previous months? In the short time you guys had been in a formal relationship, you both made the decision not to rush things. And so far everything was working out fine. You were sure you loved Spencer, but you never told him precisely because you didn't want to overwhelm him. You knew that Spencer liked to take small but safe steps. And you were fine with that.

“So tell me, what is it about?”. You asked him to elaborate. At the time that Spencer was going to develop his idea, Prentiss with JJ approached where you were.

“(Y/N), we have to get you ready for the night,” Prentiss told you. You looked at Spencer who was silent again. Whatever he was going to say to you, it was no longer the time.

“Okay. We can talk about this later, right?”. You spoke to Spencer. He just nodded. You got up and went with the girls inside the police station.

The plan was simple and risky at the same time, but it seemed effective. The idea was that you were in a specific bar that they knew was frequented by the suspect. Given your resemblance to the victims, the bet was that you attracted their attention until they could make a safe arrest. As Hotch had promised, there were agents posted outside the bar and some undercover inside as well.

“Hey, I think I see the unsub,” you muttered into your earpiece, as well as described his appearance so that it would be known to the agents.

“Good job (Y/L/N), now you must get his attention,” Hotch instructed. That's how you approached the bar, right next to the unsub and ordered a drink. According to the profile that you had all developed, the subject fit perfectly. After engaging in conversation with him, you agreed to go with him to the alley behind the bar. You didn’t count on the fact that the unsub was not really ‘the’ unsub, but rather a bait of the real murderer whom you had not seen all night and of whom no one had a description. ‘Fuck!’, you mumbled when you felt a blow to your head. Hotch started calling you and when you didn't answer, everyone mobilized. The unsub dragged you to a property next to the bar, further from the alley which quickly filled with police officers and your team.

When the unsub was about to drag you inside a truck, you felt someone yell.

“Stop! FBI!”. You were dizzy but could immediately recognize Spencer's voice. The unsub turned around and pulled a knife from his vest which immediately pointed at your neck. Trying to recover you only saw Spencer's panicky face. This was one of the results that he had surely calculated and that could end very badly. In a second of thinking and not thinking at the same time, you elbowed the unsub in the stomach, who before releasing the knife managed to graze part of your skin, ripping it. Free from your captor's grip, you ran towards Spencer. He had lowered his gun without realizing that the unsub was pulling a revolver out of his boot, pointing and firing rapidly in Spencer's direction. Again, with the adrenaline pumping, you retraced your steps and jumped on the unsub, making him fall and dropping the gun. You hit him a couple of times for good measure until he stopped struggling and passed out.

Spencer's whines brought you back to reality. When you turned around you saw he was on the ground and was holding his arm in pain. The bastard had hit him on the shoulder. You ran in his direction again.

“Spencer!,” you knelt in front of him and began to inspect his wound.

“(Y/N), are you okay?,” he told you. Why he asked you that since he was the one who was shot? There you realized your white blouse was stained with blood, thanks to the cut made with the unsub's knife near your neck.

“Yeah… yeah. It must be superficial. Sorry, I screwed it up. I didn't realize it was a trap...,” you started to sob and ramble. Spencer tried to calm you down.

“Hey, it's okay. We'll be okay...”

The next few minutes were confusing. The police arrived at the scene, along with the entire team. Two ambulances also arrived: in one they brought Spencer up to check his wound. They took you to the other to see the cuts on your body. The unsub was arrested and taken to the station. The paramedic who checked you cleaned up and patched your cuts. When you were ready you went to the other ambulance to see Spencer. The shot had been shallow and the bullet only grazed his shoulder, so cleaning and bandaging would be fine.

“Hey...,” you said as Spencer got out of the ambulance and fixed his vest over his patched shoulder.

“Hey...,” he replied. “You're good?”.

“Yeah. You?”.

“I'll be fine,” he told you smiling. He knew you were stressed and needed words of encouragement.

“Spencer, look... I know things could have gone very wrong today and you had your apprehensions, and I respect them... and you were right, I never doubted it was risky, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry you got hurt. And thank you for saving my life again. If you hadn't been by my side, maybe the result would have been different...,” you began to ramble.

“I love you,” Spencer told you taking your hand. You stopped your speech immediately and looked at him dumbfounded.

“What…?”

“I love you. That is what I was trying to tell you this afternoon. It's not that I worry just because I have my apprehensions with everything and everyone. With you it’s different because I love you. And it scares the shit of me that something happens to you and lose you. I'm terrified (Y/N), because bad things happen to the people I love and I can't do anything to stop it. And if I hadn't told you this before, it's because that means I have to admit that I'm afraid...,” he trailed off. Your heart was about to explode. You was thrilled to know that Spencer loved you but it hurt he felt so vulnerable to confess it.

“God Spencer. I love you too. So so much... I didn't tell you because I didn't want to overwhelm you. We agreed to take things slow and I was fine with that”. You told him hugging him tight. He buried his head on your shoulder.

“And I know you are scared. I must confess that I am too. I have never felt this for anyone and it also scares me to lose you... I may not say it or not show it, but it is the truth. But, you know what? We can do this together. We can face our fears together. Would you do that with me?”. You asked as you pulled away from his embrace slightly to look at him.

“The truth?... I'm willing to do anything as long as it's with you, (Y/N),” he told you leaning down and sealing his vow with a deep kiss which you reciprocated with equal intensity.

That was the first time Spencer Reid said 'I love you' to you. The first of many. It was also the first time you pondered more strongly the importance of balancing self-care at work with duty. Both, you and Spencer, would have a lot to learn about it, but you would do it together.

——

Permanent Taglist: @dreatine @andiebeaword @paulaern

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #10 days to my birthday #aperrywilliams #criminal minds #mini series

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squarecarousel · 3 years

Text

Interview with Elizabeth Beals

Here we are at the end, our final interview! Fittingly, we're capping it off with Elizabeth Beals, the other long standing member who has stuck around since Square Carousel's very beginning. While Elizabeth's signature style has remained instantly recognizable from Challenge 1 through Challenge 143 and counting, her skills have undoubtedly blossomed over the past decade. Today, we're catching up with our resident long haul Square Carousel member, admin, and comics professional, Elizabeth Beals!

Emma Frost

Q: Even though your art style is beautifully consistent, your work still stays fresh with each new challenge. What are the biggest aesthetic changes you notice in your work when you compare your most recent pieces to your graduation portfolio?

A: I haven’t looked at my graduation portfolio in a hot minute, it’s pretty wild seeing how far I have come. I’ve gotten better at compositions/ I’ve leaned into cooler, more saturated palettes/ have a better use of textures/ and I also don’t force myself to create a full bleed illustration if it’s not completely necessary to get the story across.

Elizabeth’s workspace

Q: Has your art making process changed at all during your post college years?

A: Oh yeah, definitely!

In college I would thumbnail/ flesh out the comp at scale with normal mechanical pencil/ ink with a 005 micron/ erase the under drawing/ scan in the piece/ clean up in Photoshop/ then color until completion.

Whereas I now thumbnail/ scan in the one I like/ format and print it out at a larger scale (in light blue)/ go back over the print with a blue pencil to refine details/ ‘ink’ it with a extra fine mechanical pencil/ scan it back in/ clean up in photoshop/ and then color until completion.

And if we want to do an even deeper dive we can look at the ‘Color until Completion’ portion.

In college I would create a top layer, which was always the scan/line art set to multiply, and then I would place the coloring layers beneath it. I was just getting into textures and color holds so they were pretty crude but it was nice that I was still fussing with them.

I currently use the same process as a base but I’ve also started painting on top of the line art (like, A LOT), using overlays, adjustments, effects, and more.

Glitter Hearts

Q: What's been your favorite professional project to work on?

A: Mmmmm, I think this one’s a tie for me, the first one would be my cover run on Star Trek: TNG - Terra Incognita. It was my first cover run and the writers/ editors I got to work with were a complete and total dream. They whipped up some pretty fun concepts and I really got to stretch my art muscles for it. Plus the Ice cream I designed for issue one got worked into the story, so having a cannon ice cream design is pretty dang neat. The second would be my first OGN, Virtually Yours, with writer Jeremy Holt! It’s been a project that we’ve had waiting in the wings since 2015 and got to revamp for ComiXology Originals in 2020. It was the largest project I’ve ever worked on and it was such a tough/ joyous/ and complete learning experience for me. I was glad to have an amazing team of people to work with and you should deff check it out if you haven’t already ;D  [Link to Virtually Yours on Comixology]

Virtually Yours cover

Q: Any non-art hobbies?

A: Baking / Cooking/ Trying out new recipes! *Chef’s Kiss* Just chilling outside in general/ soaking up some sun ( as a former So. Cal girl I miss the high/ dry heat.) Binge watching trash T.V.

Q: Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate?

A: I love all three dearly but coffee wins, hands down.

Q: What's a career goal you have for the next decade?

A: Pretty broad but I would love to get to a place where I become less dependent on private/ personal commissions and focus more on Comic Covers and Pin-up work.

She Hulk

Q: Do you have a favorite superhero? A: Short answer, no.  However, I can provide a short list of some of my faves: Jubilee, Storm, Rogue, Spider-Man, Anya Corazon (Spider-Girl), Spider-Gwen, Mystique, and I’m gunna end it there before I just keep rambling.

Q: What's one thing you wish more people knew about you or your work?

A: One fun thing about me/ my work is that my love of drawing hair came from wanting to create Cammy White (Street Fighter) fan art. With braids as long as her’s you gotta take your time and learn to draw them right! XD

Q: While working, do you prefer to watch tv, movies, listen to music, or sit in silence? Any recommendations for background media?

A: Definitely a TV series or movie, preferably something I’ve already seen (less potential to distract me). I always end up falling back on older shows like Murder She Wrote or Midsomer Murders, basically anything with a long syndication. When I was working on Virtually Yours though I would have HBO’s Gentleman Jack on. It’s a newer series with only one season but it served as a good timer/ work schedule for me.

Star Trek TNG: Terra Incognita (issue 6)

Q: If you could choose one character from the Star Trek universe to befriend, who would it be and why? A: To avoid getting too crazy, I think I’m gunna limit myself to TNG (plus I have the most knowledge of that series) and go with Guinan. She’s wise beyond her years (if you could believe that), funny, empathetic, resourceful, and makes a mean drink! And not to break the 4th wall or anything, but it’s freakin’ Whoopi Goldberg!!! ;D

Elizabeth herself

Q: Excellent choice! Anything else you would like the readers to know?

A: Just that y’all are fantastic and we appreciate all the love and support you’ve shown us over that last 10 years! Thanks for letting us go out on a high note!

P.S. Stay safe. Stay healthy. And get vaccinated <3

You heard her folks! Thanks so much to Elizabeth for sharing her answers, and to you, dear readers, for getting to know us all at the Square Carousel Collective these past years. Check out Elizabeth’s website, and follow her on Tumblr, Twitter and Instagram for fresh art as soon as it drops!

#interview #Elizabeth beals #square Carousel #comics #comics artist #cover artist #illustrators on tumblr #virtually yours #star trek terra incognita

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sleepdeprivedheretic · 3 years

Text

Heart of the Wild (Ch.2)

Notes: Originally it was suppose to be two Chapters, but alright, three. Apparently tigers can’t purr in real life? Well in this fic, he can bc of reasons. I just wanted to add in Izuku being the adorable, helpful younger “brother” that he is in the fic :3

Warnings: Consensual smut. Like, right in the beginning when you first start reading, there’s some self stuff, but that’s about it.

He bit the back of his hand, pupils blown wide as he let out a growl of frustration. He was far, far away from his hut, but the lingering smell of an omega’s heat, could be carried away from miles. He tried not to let his mind wonder, to let his frustrations and pent up sexual desires get the best of him.

Of course, he had felt guilty, wanting to just fuck and claim the rabbit as his, but he refused. She wasn’t coherent, they were strangers, and he rather crawl in a trench and never see the sunlight again, than to take advantage of somebody like that.

His trousers were looped around his ankles, letting the chill of the cold air hopefully douse out the heat of his lust-filled mind. Ever since traveling far away from his parents, everyone was too scared to touch him, lest look at him in that sort of manner. Those who he was close to, he saw as sons and family, they were never close to the rabbit’s image that popped into his head, at this moment. He hissed, finding his hands wrapped around himself, tugging at the head as his hips moved on their own whim as he leaned forwards against the tree.

This was dangerous, he knew. Elbow in front of his face as it rested against the bark of the wood, he bit his bottom lip in a growl, letting the feral beast in which was his pent up lust, consume him. Although his length was barbed, it was soft flesh that didn’t hurt his hand. He knew that it was mainly a purpose to keep seed within the womb, not to hurt, and with that thought, his hips stuttered before he quickened his pace, thumbing the head as precum leaked out, letting his imagination run wild, before the guilt would settle in.

Would she be shy? Or tell him bluntly in what she would want? He shouldn’t even be thinking of her like this, but it was tough not too, him having the primal urge to just wreck the omega in all of the right ways, preferably with a mating bite. He bit the back of his fist, hissing as his hips stuttered, painting the poor tree white with the gunk of his shot.

It wasn’t his first thought, or usual way of marking his territory, but it would have to do, for now.

…………

Sunlight had poked through the hut at this time. You, being freshly tired and worn out, had tried your best to feed the fire with what wood had been there. As for the bedding, you didn’t have an inkling on what to do with it, deciding to set it aside with your shame and guilt, and yet, relief.

A slow, slight knocking, had rung on the door, snapped you out of your thoughts as you froze with fear.

“U-um! Excuse me! My name’s Izuku! Tai-chan sent me here to check up on you!” A squeak on the other side announced, and your shoulders relaxed at the familiar name. He, like you, was a rabbit omega, if anything, he would be immune to your scent, and could help tidy up.

“Come in.” You announced after making sure that you were clothed well. The door creaked open slowly with shaky hands, a mop of green hair, eyes, twitching ears, and a freckled face peeked in as his scent, sweet grass mixed in with a slightly spicy tone, wafted towards you.

“Oh, good, you’re dressed and coherent!” He sighed with relief, inviting himself in, holding a bucket full of wool blankets, as well as a walking stick. Before you could speak, the other rabbit jumped in, first.

“Oh, gosh! I bet he didn’t say anything about this, didn’t he? I think Tai-chan knew what he was getting into when caring for an injured, heated omega, but he probably didn’t tell you that it was okay to get things a bit messy. Messes like slick are easily to clean, luckily, thus I brought the bucket. Oh! You must be hungry! There should be some leftover stew, Tai had said!” The dwarf rabbit rambled, his short ears twitching with excitement as he laid out spare blankets out from the bucket, as well as a hairbrush, twine, soap, a spare tunic, and a small jar full of a dark green substance.

He handed you the stick, rushing over towards the still bubbling stew as he hummed excitedly, introducing himself.

“Omegas are pretty rare, did you know? So I hope that we become good friends! The bucket is to drawl water from the nearest stream, and we can wash those dirty sheets, as well as you take a bath. Thus the hairbrush and twine, so you can put up your hair, if you want.” He explained, glancing at you with a sweet smile as he plopped several spoonfuls of soups into two separate bowls.

You thanked him, telling your name and your story as the two of you ate, talking between swallowing bites of food. The cheerful omega was younger than you, yet was in his late teens or early twenties, him stating that he had found Eiji, his mate, when the two of them were nineteen summer’s old.

“Are you around many omegas in heat?” You tried asking. For a second, he stilled, looking at you with surprise, and then shook his head.

“Our dynamic is so rare, it’s comical. Of course, I’ve had to find ways to spend my own heats, and found it easier when you bite somebody, or creating a mating mark. Also, when your mate covers you in their own scent, giving off your status as ‘taken, don’t bother’.” Izuku finished, setting his bowl next to your empty one, as he grabbed the bucket and used sheets and utensils.

“There’s a safe path to the river, I’ll give you some privacy, but be near enough to sense if you’re in danger. Since this forest has probably less than ten occupants, you should be safe with us around.” He explained, and you thanked him as you hoisted yourself up with the stick, avoiding to use your hurt ankle.

……….

You didn’t get a clear outside view of Taishiro’s hut, but when you did, you admitted freely, that it was beautiful and well built. As Izuku rambled, he shown you the small beaten path in which led to a clear, cool stream. Of course, he promised you your privacy as he gave you a bar of lard soap, the tunic, and the oil within the jar was to clean your hair. Laying the spare tunic and essentials on the bank of the stream bed, he rushed off, promising you that he’d be near.

You didn’t waste any time, slipping into the cool water, setting your walking stick onto the bank as you sat in the shallow stream. Being from a nomadic lifestyle, you were use to taking baths within rivers and streams with your fellow women, each keeping a lookout for troublesome snoopers. Since the forest was pretty dim, all you really had to worry about, were the smells of strangers. Feeling a sense of security, you relished in having your heated skin flushed down by the slow moving stream, helping matters greatly as you sunk lower, taking off your old wet clothing, setting it aside to lather yourself and it in soap.

When you were done, you were freezing, but cleaned and wet hair out of the way. Newly clothed and leaning on your stick, you shouted out for Izuku, and waited. Immediately, your new friend popped up out of nowhere, smiling as he held a bucket of clean, yet wet clothes.

“Let’s head back, warm up, and dress your wounds!” He smiled, brightly.

………..

Having Izuku around, had helped matters, greatly. Of course, he went home during certain times, refusing to part with his mate for a while, and you were left alone, yet safe, clean, and dry within the hut as you swore that the sweet yet earthy scent was stronger than ever. You guessed that he had came back when you and Izuku were gone, eating quickly, and reorganizing things.

Although grateful, you tried your best to help around within the weeks of your heat. You learned from the smaller rabbit, how to cook, clean more regularly around you, and even garden a little when your heat wasn’t at it’s most terrible state. Of course, you were apologizing heavily to Izuku from the other side of the door, stating that you couldn’t have visitors on some days, and he had understood, promising to be back, later.

While feeling gross and tired, you didn’t dare enter the forest, alone, opting to keep busy, tidying the small hut the best you could, and brushing out your wild hair, neatly braiding it, thanks to your new friend’s teachings. You didn’t see or hear from Tai, but his scent was always around, close and promising to protect, and that itself, comforted you at your most stressful times. Heat being heat, only lasted two weeks, and then the post-smell, had to fade.

By this time, it was safe for you to meet Eijirou, Izuku’s wolf mate, as well as Tai’s other adopted son, Tamaki, the ever elusive snow leopard who had promised to guard the area around the forest as a favor. Although strangers, you knew that they were trustworthy, putting their time and effort in making sure that you were alright, and of course, you couldn’t be thankful enough, making supper for them.

“Now that your heat’s over and ankle’s healing, where will you go?” Eijirou asked, and you felt yourself stilling. You didn’t think about that. Instead, you just smiled, and handed him a bowl of stew, telling him that you think of something. After everyone had left, you cleaned had cleaned up. The last time that you’ve seen the tiger, was when he had rescued you, and already, you couldn’t help but miss the person who was responsible for your safety.

It wasn’t right for you to stay, you admitted. Although he stated that you could find a place in the forest, if you wanted to, you had felt that you’ve already taken too much, especially his home and food. Your ankle was healing, nicely, and a week from now, Izuku had said that you could probably walk, but not run onto it.

“Somethin’ on yer mind?” Taishiro’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Quickly turning towards him, you’ve noticed that the man was holding the door open, looking at you quizzically. Seeing your surprised expression, he rolled his eyes.

“Been tryin’ to get yer attention for a bit, now. Mind tellin’ me what’s goin’ through that head of yers?” He asked, shutting the door behind him, as he sat down on a nearby stool. Your ears flickered before laying back.

“Where have you been staying at this whole time?” You questioned. At first, he had a blank look on his face, and then realization hit as his tail swished heavily, ears flickering wildly.

“You…were worried ‘bout me?”

You gave him a deadpanned look.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been living in your home, using your food- Tai, you’ve looked out for me, a practical stranger, sacrificing your own safety and shelter…do you ever look after yourself?” You couldn’t help but blurt out, but then gently asking the last question. He swallowed thickly, casting his eyes to the side as warmth spread across his cheeks.

“I usually don’t do this for others, but it seems that you’ve shown yer gratitude by helpin’ out as much as ya could. Talked to Izuku, learned that you were really doin’ well, and given that ya’re concerned ‘bout me an’ tryin’ to pay it back, I don’t regret my choice.” He finished, warm amber irises daring to meet yours in his decision. It was your turn to break away from the oddly heated stare.

“I don’t know what’re gonna do, when yer ankle’s healed, but, I’d like to get to know ya, a lil’ more. If…if ya wanna stay.” He said it so quickly, but you heard it loud and clear.

“Tai-” You began, but he hummed.

“If ya wanna live in the forest, we could always build ya a small den, or a hut. Won’t be much, but it’d be somethin’.” He admitted. Without thinking, your body acted on it’s own accord.

“Wai-wah?!” He grunted in surprise as you hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest as heat rushed to your face as you realized in what you had just done, but you didn’t regret it, especially hearing the sound of his fluttering heartbeat, and his natural scent in which calmed you down.

“Thank You.” Was all you could say, really. To your small surprise, you felt his arms wrap around you as you heard very, very subtle purring rumble through him.

“Notta problem, Sweetheart.”

…………….

It didn’t take your ankle long to heal. Being in the forest for the last month, you’ve admitted that not only had time passed, quickly, but you were getting more mentally mature and physically well. Of course, you were confused by your own feelings for the nurturing man, but you didn’t mind the too long hugs, the subtle touches in fixing bandages, and eye contact. You favorite had to be a border of pillows were between the two of you, as you both laid on the big bed, talking about everything and nothing while the fire crackled and lit up the dark room. It was a platonic distance, you refusing him to sleep on the harsh wood, and insisting that a pillow wall could work on the giant bed.

You never really shared one, but you liked his company as he talked about his family, his past, and how he came to adopt Eijirou and Tamaki. You listened intently, ever so curious, learning that he wanted to find a place of his own, like his father had before him, and settle down with a mate and cubs. You were lucky that the pillows had hid you, for you couldn’t help but feel your face begin to redden as he, oblivious to your small plight, went on about how basically everyone was scared of him, or didn’t want to do with him.

Your racing heartbeat slowed as he hummed that he was glad that he found his boys, the small wolf furiously protecting the slightly older leopard cub against stray coyotes.

“Winter’s cruel, but so are the lousy parents who leave their pups n’ cubs.” He said icily, a spike of anger seeped into his scent.

You liked him. Even when your ankle healed, he housed you as the two of you made plans to build a small space for you to live in. Fear of rejection had kept your tongue tied into silence. Your inner demons, although small, caged your rational thoughts as time crawled forward slowly. Since you have been able to properly walk, you’ve foraged, gardened, and explored more of the forest, collecting things that could be useful, as well as venturing towards the icy cool river to wash dirty plates and blankets. It was more so of your gratitude, rather than it being an actual chore, that you didn’t mind doing these things.

Taishiro himself, not only prowled to keep the area safe, but he had a lot of times shared time with you, insisting that it was his mess, too, as he scrubbed the soup bowls into the icy water. It being winter, he wasn’t as active in the spring, yet he had wood chopped not only for his small fireplace, but to be turned into logs for a couple of buildings, one was a small house for actual chickens.

You cocked you head.

“Chickens? Where would you get those?”

As if surprised by your answer, he palmed his forehead.

“I’m kinda dense, Hon. I didn’t tell ya that there was a village nearby, didn’t I? Well, not really near, maybe a couple of day’s journey, but I thought nothin’ of it since I don’t really go there, often.” He admitted guiltily, but you were surprised that a village was within the reach of the tundra. Speaking your thoughts, his tail twitched as his ears perked, seemingly glad that you weren’t upset of his forgetfulness of the place.

“They’re alright, a lil’ skittish. They use clothes an’ food for currency, and every once a great while, I get some trousers or somethin’ from there.” He mulled over the idea, sneaking glances at your weathered tunic.

“Might not be so bad in getting’ some chickens. Fried eggs sound great, right about now.” He murmured, instead.

#Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #Fatgum x reader #And there's more plot than I've originally planned?#If confusion sets in let imagination set you free #Tiger Tai #Bunny reader #Like I kind of want to low-key build up their relationship a bit more #How did this plot get into my smut?

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Barbecue

This story is @godsliltippy ‘s fault. It was spawned in an Animal Crossing game, apparently, and she mentioned the concept to me and immediately sparked an idea. I feel what resulted isn’t quite what she had in mind, but I’m not in control here, sorry :D In fact, the whole thing turned into a weird ramble about Tracys really rather than a cohesive story.

I posted the beginning of this a while back when my muse took a hit and refused to write anymore. As it was never planned to be anything but one chapter, I have posted it as a whole now that it is finished. So you might find that you’ve already read the first bit. Sorry. Skip to the origami scene, dinner being served and you’ll find the new stuff.

Thank you to @scribbles97 for the read through and support :D

I hope you enjoy this mostly Tracy fluff :D

-o-o-o-

It wasn’t often that the Tracys got together as a family. Sure, they lived on an island together, saw each other every day and even worked together. But there was a big difference between sharing a room versus sharing an event.

This time around, it wasn’t a special day or anything in particular, but Gordon had decided that the family needed some down time, had sweet talked Grandma who had the power to make it happen and International Rescue had been shut down for an evening.

John was dragged down from orbit a few days earlier so he could actually walk without his gravity assistance. When he complained, Grandma tore him a new one.

He didn’t comment after that, though Gordon swore he heard Eos laughing at him at one point.

Gordon thought it would be somewhat scary to have an AI laughing at you, but John just rolled his eyes and glared laser beams at his fish brother when he realised he was watching.

Johnny was such a soft target, but his revenge was lethal.

Gordon decided on a hasty retreat.

It was a simple barbecue on the beach down by one of the huts. A chance to laze on the sand, chat and just be family.

Now that Dad was home, their family was almost whole.

There would be no daring, to-the-ends-of-the-solar-system rescue for their mother. It just wasn’t something they could fix, so technically they would never be entirely whole again, but things were what they were and Gordon preferred to think positive.

The alternative sucked.

So, barbecue on the beach. Barbecue usually meant Virgil was cooking, but Two had been called out on a rescue just after lunch and that was following the one before lunch and the one after breakfast.

Scott had gone with Virg earlier and Gordon even earlier, but the second eldest waved him away on the third. It was a simple one. He would be back in time to turn the burgers.

He wasn’t.

It was left to John to fend off both Scott and Grandma, as neither were allowed near the barbecue. And while John was a bit more of a connoisseur than Virgil with his burgers perfected rather than barbecued, he still managed a great steak.

Whereas Scott would burn it.

Alan wasn’t allowed near the food otherwise no one else would get any.

Gordon did the salads. He was one to do things to carrots that no one else would think of. Even Virgil admired his radish roses and the salad dressings he created. Kayo sometimes helped him and today was one of those days.

Scott was usually tasked with furniture set up, but today he was hovering in the comms room keeping an eye on Virgil.

After all, three rescues in one day was a hefty workload.

And Dad? Well, Scott got his worry wart genes from somewhere.

“Is he on his way back?” Gordon strode into the comms room to find his father seated at his desk and Scott hovering like a lost soul, both staring at the holoprojector and a hologram of what was obviously Two’s external camera. Virgil was wearing his exo-suit and hauling several large containers onto his ‘bird.

He looked tired.

Gordon frowned. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Gordon. Packing up now.” It was still weird when Dad answered a question like that and not Scott.

Especially when there was a furrow on his eldest brother’s forehead.

Dad noticed Gordon’s gaze and looked over at Scott. “He’s fine, son. You worry too much.” Their father swiped at a secondary hologram on the desk, pushed his chair back and stood up. His cane rattled against the chair as he grabbed it to make his way over to Scott.

Who was still frowning. “Sorry, Dad. Just three in a row. He’s supposed to be home.”

“It’s the nature of the business.”

Scott looked at his father as if to say ‘Really?’

Dad cleared his throat. “Hmm, you have a point.” He straightened. “But we have to trust Virgil when he says he is okay.”

Scott’s grunt was non-committal.

Dad dropped a hand onto Scott’s shoulder. “He’s coming home and he’s staying home.”

Scott continued to stare at the hologram of his brother in the centre of the room. It was obvious Scott obviously wanted to skip all that and just have Virgil safe on the Island.

Scott wasn’t very good at waiting.

“Hey, Scotty, can you help Alan with the table?” At least it would have his brother doing something for a few minutes. By then Virgil would be in the air and on his way home.

“Sure.” But it was distracted and those eyes still hadn’t left the hologram.

As if on cue there was the sound of breaking glass and a number of rather offensive words from the kitchen.

As Scott moved almost as fast as his ‘bird, Gordon bit his lip and secretly applauded Kayo’s back up plan.

It worked. By the time Scott felt secure enough to let Kayo loose in the kitchen by herself again – Gordon swore she play acted the scene, any other time a brother would be dead for questioning her capabilities – Thunderbird Two could be heard on approach and all that was left to do was for Scott to run down to the hangars to check on his brother in person.

It was worth the milk jug and the clean-up.

As expected, Virgil was fine. A little tired, yes, but functional and looking forward to the evening on the beach.

He cleaned himself up, donned his flannel civvies and wandered down to the beach.

There was much discussion between John and the tired engineer about burgers until Gordon rounded up Virgil and set him doing fancy things with paper napkins.

If they ended up with fifty swans, twenty parakeets and forty-odd doves, he didn’t care. It was obvious Virgil was beat, running on a post rescue high and just needed something to do. The fact he was somewhat of an origami addict just worked in Gordon’s favour.

It also helped that Grandma sat with Virgil to keep him company.

Dinner was cooked and served. There was a bounty of food. If Gordon knew one thing it was that the key to a good get together was food and lots of it.

John’s steaks and burgers were divine as always, though lacking the char Virgil usually gave them. Gordon had a second helping, regardless.

Scott was still keeping an eye on Virgil, but their engineer brother seemed fine, stuffing food in his face at his usual muscle building rate.

Gordon kept an eye on Scott, noting that the eldest couldn’t seem to drop his concern.

Gordon toyed with the idea of asking Grandma to stall IR for the next day as well. The eldest two could do with a day off, obviously.

He’d talk to her later.

Dessert was an ice cream concoction with just enough alcohol and fruit in it to tickle the senses, topped with a crisp meringue. Basically, it was enough sugar to fuel a Thunderbird.

Which it did. All five brothers definitely appeared brighter after the meal and it was Scott of all people who suggested they go for a swim.

Gordon could never say no to that.

Private islands had their uses and the beach hut had change rooms and supplies for exactly this reason. Hiking all the way up the hill to the villa was not needed. Even Grandma had her own stash of swimwear down here and it was with some vivacity that the family descended on the hut and shed their clothing.

Except for Gordon who had come fully prepared because he was Gordon and there was a beach involved. So, it was with some amusement that he volunteered to tidy up the table while everyone changed clothes.

Scott stared at him for a full ten seconds obviously wondering if he needed to fetch a medical scanner.

Gordon just poked out his tongue and started collecting plates.

Their father had spent a great deal of time in the water since he had returned. Gordon actually enjoyed that fact. It gave him the opportunity to spend time with a man who had not only been missing for eight years, but prior to that had been mostly too busy to take a swim with his son.

There had been talks. Lots of talks. Even a few fragile moments.

The water gave his dad physical support that was sorely needed. John was known to take to the pool or the ocean for the same reason. Alan not so much. The baby of the family was not a water one. He enjoyed it, but his preferred environment involved rocket fuel and orbital stats.

Ultimately all the Tracys liked a fun dip in their private lagoon. Though, if he was honest, Gordon wondered if his brothers would be so eager to stick their toes in the water if they knew of the visitors the caldera sometimes received. He smirked to himself as Alan emerged from the hut, ran yelling down the slope, and barrelled into the water.

Gordon grinned. They weren’t dumb, but the aquanaut had installed certain sensors in the lagoon for a reason. It was his job to protect his family in the ocean, after all.

Scott wandered down the slope at an easier pace. He was wearing blue board shorts and displaying far more tanned skin than most of them.

John didn’t even bother and left his t-shirt on. Obviously taking no chances even though the sun was almost setting. His arms and legs still glowed and Gordon was hard put not to poke fun.

His astronaut brother must have picked up the vibes because he glared as he stalked past.

Grandma stepped down lightly beside their father, both wearing shirts. Dad had unspoken issues about the condition of his body and Grandma claimed that she couldn’t compete with the GQ covers surrounding her.

As far as he was concerned, Gordon was just happy they were there and having fun.

Because they were.

Grandma helped their dad onto the beach and then took a running jump into the water, her strong stroke chasing the eldest out into the lagoon.

It was Kayo who stopped at the edge with their father. Beaches were notorious for transmitting sound and, as he gathered dishes, Gordon could hear her soft voice even at this distance.

She was speaking Malay ever so quietly.

His father replied in the same.

Surprised Gordon couldn’t help glancing in their direction. She was looking up at his father with an expression of such gentleness, her hand on his arm. Gordon’s heart swelled and he looked away. He knew his sister had always been close with their father, but she was usually far from demonstrative. Tin’s early life had done so much to shape who she was today.

Gordon had a hate for her uncle that reached far beyond his own personal injury.

He finished stacking the picnic crockery and cutlery to the tune of the playful sounds in the bay. A quick wash of his hands in rainwater and he turned to face the lagoon.

His father was floating beside Tin and they were obviously having a private conversation. Scott, Alan, John and Grandma were apparently having a race. Gordon stared at that activity for a full moment, noting stroke strength and style. As always, Grandma was the most efficient, but the two older brothers outpaced her simply on strength and youth. Alan’s heart didn’t seem to be in it at all, but then Allie was secretly a softie when it came to Grandma and was probably losing on purpose.

He shared that with Virgil but for entirely different reasons. Virgil looked after Grandma. Grandma looked after Allie and was really the only maternal parent his little brother knew.

Not that he would ever admit any of it. Virgil was obvious. Alan was still far too teenager to admit to anything.

Gordon frowned. Speaking of Virgil, where the hell was the big softie?

Gordon’s eyes tracked over the water. What the hell? There was no sign of him.

He had come down, hadn’t he?

Gordon spun on the spot, hackles rising, eyes scanning the beach, the trail and the hut.

He thumbed his collar. “Eos, do you have a location on Virgil?”

“Hello, Gordon. Virgil is in Beach Hut Number Seven. His comms have been removed from his body and hence security-disabled. I really wish you and your brothers wouldn’t do that. It is disconcerting.”

Gordon didn’t acknowledge the AI, instead darting up the path to the hut.

As with everything on Tracy Island, the rustic little structure was more than it seemed. Security sensors recognised him as he touched the door and allowed him entrance. He swung it open and entered what equated to a mixture of storage facility and functional outpost. From here, any member of the family could get to the hangars fast via a hidden monorail system underground. It was one of several collection points dotted around the Island for sudden callouts.

But it also doubled as short-term shelter and basically a place to stash stuff. From swimwear to water sports equipment to art materials, the not so little huts held all sorts of things.

But the one thing Gordon was looking for was a heavy lifting brother.

He poked through the change cubicles. “Virgil?” It was quiet except for the sounds of the breeze and the ocean in the distance echoing through the still open door.

And the soft sound of snoring.

Really?

He found the last cubicle locked and had to jimmy the door to get it open.

Each change cubicle contained a bench and that is where his found his big brother.

Virgil had somehow managed to curl up on the far too small ledge and was fast asleep.

Gordon let out a sigh of relief suddenly realising exactly how worried he had actually been at his brother’s sudden absence.

The sigh fast turned into a fond smile as the worry slipped away. Not only was Virgil asleep in an odd spot, but he appeared to have fallen into slumber while undressing. His boots lay discarded to one side and his flannel shirt hung from a hook along with his grey t-shirt. But his jeans were still half on, down around his knees. It was almost as if he had sat down to remove them and tipped sideways on the bench, curling up against the wall half naked.

Gordon’s smile turned into a frown.

It would have been prime humour material involving photographs and eternal ribbing if it wasn’t for one factor.

Bruises.

His brother had a number of them down one side. What the hell?

Gordon stepped closer. None looked serious by themselves, but there were enough to suggest Virgil had taken a fall of some kind earlier in the day. An unreported fall. Gordon bit his lip. Unless…

A clatter of wet feet and Scott was suddenly there beside him, dripping on the floor. “What happened?”

Gordon shrugged. “Looks like he fell asleep while getting undressed.” He eyed his brother. “Did he report a fall?”

Scott took a step closer, staring at the bruises on Virgil’s torso. “Yes, but none of this.” A frustrated breath. “Hell, Virg.”

As if responding to his name, Virgil snorted in his sleep and tried to roll over.

And promptly fell off the bench.

Both Scott and Gordon lunged in to catch him, awkwardly scooping up limbs and important body parts, desperate to stop him from hitting the concrete. The man did not need any more contusions.

All three ended up on the floor. And while Virgil hadn’t acquired any more bruising, Gordon’s knees certainly had and there was a definite elbow to his collar bone that was likely to sprout something a little purple at least.

“Virg, wake up.” Scott’s voice was definitely in commander mode, but still soft with that brotherly worry that seemed to be ingrained in his personality.

Another snort and dopey brown eyes opened. There was little behind them for a full moment as they stared up at Scott who was still holding his brother against his chest.

Virgil blinked as water dripped on him. “Wha-?”

“You fell asleep, bro. In your underwear.”

“Wha’ the hell? Ugh, you’re all wet.” Virgil struggled to sit up. Both Scott and Gordon sat back and let their brother right himself.

Sitting up, Virgil let his back fall against the bench and sighed. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit, sorry.”

Gordon could hear the creak of his eldest brother’s frown beside him. “And so you should be. What is this?” Scott pointed at the bruises decorating Virgil’s right side.

The engineer blinked and looked down at himself. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Why weren’t they reported?”

An arched eyebrow as Virgil looked back up at his brother. “They’re just bruises. It was a busy day.” Those brown eyes latched onto Scott. “I’m okay.”

“You fell asleep while changing your clothes.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m a little tired.” But then his eyes turned to Gordon. “I just didn’t want to miss out on the party.”

Gordon’s heart twitched at the honesty in those eyes. “You idiot. We could have done it tomorrow.”

Virgil looked down at his feet. “Probably would have been called out again.”

Gordon huffed. “No, Virgil, because tomorrow is a day off.”

It was Gordon’s turn to be frowned at by Scott, but the aquanaut was having none of it. He held up a hand. “No, Scott, was thinking it would be a good idea earlier and now it is certain. I’m speaking to Grandma.” He pursed his lips. “Or I can skip that step and just convince you here and now while dopey here has his purple decorations on display.”

“Hey!” Virgil got his frown on, but Gordon ignored him, keeping his own determination targeted on Scott.

Defiant blue flared for all of a second before looking down. Scott hated taking International Rescue offline. Gordon understood why and agreed, but there were limits.

Gordon reached out and gripped his big brother’s arm gently. “You need the time off, bro. You’re exhausted as much as dopey here.”

Blue eyes caught his for a moment and Gordon could see the decision being made behind them.

Quiet. “Okay.”

Gordon smiled just a little and squeezed that arm.

“What are you guys doing?” Alan, followed by John poked their heads in the door. “Kayo beat John by a – whoa, Virg, what the hell happened to you?”

Virgil didn’t quite roll his eyes, but he did push himself to his feet. “Work, okay?”

Several sets of eyes landed on Scott expecting a follow up on that statement.

The commander sighed and stood up. “John, can you please notify the GDF that International Rescue will be unavailable for another day at least.”

The space monitor nodded as sharply as usual, despite the fact his hair had obviously been hurriedly scrubbed with a towel and was sticking up in all directions. “FAB.” He slipped out of the room.

Alan was still staring at Virgil.

Another sigh. “Guys, can I finish getting dressed?”

Scott pointed at his brother. “You are going back to the villa to get some shuteye.”

“No, I’d like to go for a swim first and cool down.”

For a moment there, Gordon’s two eldest brothers glared at each other, neither willing to give in.

Virgil’s frown looked to crawl off his face and throttle Scott. “It’s only bruises. A swim, a shower and bed, I promise.”

Scott sighed. “Fine.” His lips twitched a little smugly. “Good luck explaining that lot to Dad and Grandma.” He turned and stalked out of the cubicle, herding Alan with him.

Virgil sagged and sat down with a groan.

He looked so dejected, Gordon felt sorry for him. “Hey, bro. Wear a t-shirt and they will never know.”

His brother grunted and started pulling off his jeans. A sigh. “Thanks, Gords.”

“Not a problem. Gotta look after my wingman after all.” He furnished that statement with a grin.

Virgil arched an eyebrow up at him, but Gordon could see the smile building behind his eyes.

“Go. Get. Let me get dressed.”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Get out.”

Gordon cackled and waltzed out of the cubicle.

He didn’t go far. He stopped just outside the beach hut and waited for his brother to finish up. The sun was fast approaching the horizon and everything was a wonderful gold colour.

Down on the beach, Scott was speaking with their father, no doubt reporting the situation. Gordon held back a sigh. Virg was likely in for it despite the t-shirt.

There was more than one way to give a guy a break, for goodness sake.

Dad looked up the hill at Gordon and caught his eyes.

Gordon gave him a mock salute.

If he had to run interference for Virgil, so be it. After all, he meant it when he said he had to look after his ‘wingman’.

Gordon rolled his shoulders and grinned at Scott as his brother looked up frowning.

His wingman needed a break.

So, Gordon would give him one.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy

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chvndlcr · 3 years

Text

hey everyone, i’m elle! i’m in the est timezone. i’m nonbinary and i use she/her pronouns. i’m very bad at doing short intro posts but i’m gonna try to keep these short and sweet. so now let’s talk about my boy chan. he is my oldest oc - i've been writing him since 2014.

[ alex fitzalan, cis man, 22, he/him ] did you see who just walked in? it was that SENIOR, the ╳ + ASSIDUOUS AND - GUARDED ╳ one? you know, the one who lives OFF CAMPUS, CHANDLER LINWOOD! i heard they are majoring in BUSINESS and they can’t wait to get out of here to FIGURE OUT WHAT HE WANTS TO DO. crap! stop staring, here they come!

name. james chandler linwood // when chandler was five, he found out about middle names at school. after asking his dad what his was, he immediately decided that chandler was a way cooler name than james, and has gone by his middle name ever since. one of his pet peeves is people referring to him as james. hometown. wayzata, mn // suburb of minneapolis major. business // chandler has no clue what he wants to do with his life. he’s been doing some photography gigs on the side since his freshman year of college, so he decided it wouldn’t hurt to get a degree in business so he could run his own shit better. he knows he doesn’t want to do photography as a career long-term, though. birthday. february 11th, 1999 // twenty two years old. gender. cis man orientation. biromantic asexual // chan is completely out as ‘bi’. most people assume that means he’s bisexual and he doesn’t correct that idea. he’s a lot quieter about being asexual. a lot of people don’t understand what it is, and ask invasive questions, and he’s a naturally private person who wants to avoid all of that entirely. hobbies. photography, cooking, video games phobias. acrophobia // fear of heights allergy. bee venom

[ BIO ] [tw. abuse/neglect, alcoholism, drug addiction, self harm, depression]

chandler is the only child of john and susan linwood. susan is a doctor while john works for an advertising company. susan has always been a bit ‘out there’, with no brain-to-mouth filter and some very problematic viewpoints and opinions. john started drinking when chan was eight. actually, he relapsed into drinking again, but chandler doesn’t know he had an alcohol problem before that. chandler knew his parents loved him; one of their better parenting traits was making sure he didn’t forget that. but they weren’t mentally present enough to be very good parents. gradually his dad became angry and violent while he was drinking and that, coupled with chandler’s rebellious teenage years, made the linwood home a less and less safe place for chandler.

in high school, he was known for hanging out with the “wrong crowd”. he partied a lot, trying to mentally escape from his home life and normal teen angst stuff. he often mouthed off to teachers and got in trouble on a regular basis. but he also worked really hard in school, taking mostly AP classes while managing As and Bs. not many people knew what to make of that, and acted like he was just a troublemaker that was naturally gifted. but in reality he was juggling challenging school work, a busy social life, and doing all of the cooking and cleaning at home.

another thing chan had a reputation for was quickly rotating through girlfriends (and boyfriends, but there weren’t anywhere near as many guys to date at his suburban high school). but it wasn’t the situation everyone thought it was. as relationships became more physically intimate, he became more uncomfortable. as soon as sex was suggested, he would end the relationship. in hindsight, this wasn’t the best way to approach dating. but at the time, he had no idea asexuality was a thing and that he didn’t owe anyone sex just because they were in a relationship.

his longest high school relationship was madison. they had mutual friends and started hanging out. madison had a fairly obvious drug problem, but that didn’t bother chandler. a part of him was more attracted to her because of it, although he’d never admit that to anyone. plus she was asexual. this not only was how he found out that was a sexual orientation, but it also took a lot of anxiety out of the idea of dating and chandler fell hard.

madison easily grew jealous. she was biphobic, hated sharing chandler with anyone, and was often bossy and controlling. yet chandler noticed none of the red flags until it was too late. by the time he started trying to untangle himself from her, he couldn’t. he was scared what she would do to herself if he ended things, and as she became physically violent he was scared of what she would do to him as well. since he couldn’t get out of the situation, and had never learned healthy ways of coping with the stress and trauma in his life, he turned to binge drinking and self harm.

his way out came in the form of an acceptance letter from suffolk university. as soon as he graduated high school, he left for boston and never looked back.

while he had a great inner drive in high school, that came to a screeching halt once he started college. his motivation had always been to get out of wayzata. but now that he was finally free, he had no idea what to do. at the same time, he was dealing with the aftermath of both his dad and his ex-girlfriend’s abuse towards him.

while he continued pushing forward, he never found that motivation to really care about school or his future again. he’s in his final year of college and still hasn’t figured out what he wants to do with his life. he feels stuck and frustrated.

most people don’t know about his parents, or his struggles with mental health and self harm. he’s in total denial that he has a problem with alcohol. he simply doesn’t open up easily, preferring to surround himself with a shell that can become spiky if he feels uncomfortable. but he’s always cracking jokes and acting like he doesn’t take anything seriously, putting up a front so nobody looks too closely at the cracks.

[ HEADCANONS ]

while chandler is shit at taking care of his own needs, he’s amazing at taking care of other people. he will hold your hair back at a party while you throw up, make sure you drink enough water and electrolytes, then make you breakfast in the morning. he’s definitely a bit of a ‘mom friend’, although he doesn’t think he is.

he may act apathetic, but he cares. a lot. he’s a rather empathetic person. unfortunately he has the emotional intelligence of a spoon, so this isn’t always a good thing

sometimes when he’s drunk, chandler starts rambling about video game and/or cartoon conspiracy theories

his yearbook quote was “would you woohoo me in sims yes or no”

also he really likes cooking for other people so if he asks to cook for you please just humor him and say yes

[ WANTED CONNECTION ]

some sort of family member // he’s an only child, so probably a cousin. they don’t have to be from minnesota.

exes // guys, girls, nonbinary people....doesn’t matter.

fake relationship // for some reason, these two pretend they’re dating. maybe more happens, maybe not.

restaurant service // they can’t cook, so they’re always coming over and eating what chandler makes.

roommate // they could be the best of friends or hate each others guts. lots of room to find the right dynamic

best friend // one of the only people chan trusts, and they know everything about him

classmate // self explanatory

[ DISCLAIMERS ]

i know some people get really touchy about aces being portrayed as sex repulsed so often. asexuality is a lack of sexual attraction, that’s it. some aces like sex. however, chandler does not and that’s okay too!

also i know he has some heavy topics in his writing. i will tag any post that involve these topics accordingly, and always do my absolute best to handle this kind of material in a respectful and empathetic way.

[ FINAL NOTES ]

so yeah that’s chandler. so much for making this short, but i actually left a lot of small details out. please like this post or send me a message to start plotting with my son.

#suffolksintro #(intro.)

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shakks · 3 years

Text

Thoughts

Happy New Years, I suppose. I’ve got a lot on my mind that I need to say, but I’ve been reluctant to do so. I’ll ramble off-the-cuff for a little bit (a LOT) down below if anyone can be bothered to listen. Just some random unedited and unformatted thoughts about what I’m doing with myself and trying to figure out how life works.

...Seriously, it’s a massive post. Don’t strain yourself if you’d rather not.

I don’t like to speak often, or give excuses. I prefer to let my work do the talking. Actions speak louder than words, right?

It’s funny, I did a search through my blog and found a post where I had celebrated hitting 200 followers two years ago. Curious, I checked my follower count now... And it’s at 206. I think it’s more than safe to say that I’m beyond stagnation. Still, I’m here to see this adventure through to the end, one way or another, regardless of how long it takes.

Actions speak louder than words... I’m sure my inaction is speaking volumes. I’ve always made it a point not to apologize when an update is missed or when I make a mistake. I have a bad habit of holding myself to unrealistic standards, and not only would I be apologizing with every update I make, I would draw attention to issues that few people would have noticed in the first place (such as me forgetting to draw Phobia’s hair in one of the panels from earlier this month). The LuFa from ten years ago would have dropped everything to fix it, and then would have combed through every other panel, worrying about every other possible thing that could have gone wrong. At this point the LuFa from today is just glad that there’s an update to post.

When I made the post last week about not being able to update, it was because just as my Christmas holidays were starting, I hurt my back. I’m not sure how (I’m guessing in my sleep or something), but I’m not able to sit at my computer for more than an hour without taking many breaks. I had intended to continue updating all the way through the holidays, but I ended up spending more time than usual resting in bed and attempting to stretch, walk, exercise, or try anything to lessen the pain. This has killed any creative drive that I had, and rather than power through it, I thought it would be better to stop trying to grind myself against it and take it easy so that I can hit the ground running. I’m starting to feel better now and hope I will be able to get back to the updates as early as next week.

This raises the question of my update schedule. Why the long pauses, and why the sudden rush of updates in December? The pauses are simple, I keep trying to outdo myself with each update. Even though I’m trying to step away from full Flash animations, I still catch myself leaning towards them. It’s not the animations themselves - I’ve caught myself designing overelaborate gifs when just a couple static images would do fine. I let myself get stuck in this spiral where I would constantly build myself up and then tear myself back down. I would get caught up in it and let entire years pass me in the blink of an eye...

I’m not old, but I feel old. I still have most of my life ahead of me, but it frankly isn’t much longer until I hit middle-age and that is no longer the case. As a child, my parents pushed me to try as hard as I can. They’re the type who want their kid to go to university, become a doctor, and make a boatload of money. I gave them a hard no on the doctor path, so they sent me to university to become an engineer instead. I went through it and got the sheet of paper, but never really figured out what to do with it. I ended up moving across the country and settling for a job that by all metrics I should be overqualified for, but I’m not too sure that I really care. I’m making enough money to live quite comfortably, but I’m still living alone, and don’t really have anything else to my name. It was always hammered into me to be successful, but I never really understood what being successful meant. Looking at other people from the outside, I can make a few guesses that success generally means owning your own place, having a family, and lots of money to make sure you’re still able to support it all. I don’t really know about all of that. I just wanted to be left alone. Mission accomplished, but I still have to figure out what I’m supposed to do with myself...

I used to run forum adventures even before I was aware of MSPA or Problem Sleuth. I remember how happy I made my peers, and how much joy they got from engaging. I started Waterworks in my second year of university, when I had moved into student housing and finally had that loneliness that I had been craving for most of my life. It was strange, but that first year of Waterworks... I don’t think I had ever felt more fulfilled. The act of telling a story to anyone who was willing to listen; it truly felt like this could be something that I could see myself doing for the rest of my life. Not as a career, but purely because of its ability to engage people and make them feel things out of the ordinary. I truly want to keep doing this, even after Waterworks is finished. I can never give a straight answer when people ask me if I’m happy, but to be frank, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier after posting an update, engaging with readers, and furthering the story. It’s a little unorthodox for a life path, but the more time I spend on this planet leaves me even more uncertain of everything. I’m going to stick to what I know.

So, aside from getting stuck in a self-esteem spiral, what prompted the surge of updates this month? Well, I had a little bit of a reality check. The company that I work for was acquired by another company. Normally I wouldn’t have cared, but this has happened several times now. In my short tenure at this company, I’ve seen it grow from a small local operation to become part of a massive conglomerate, and this latest acquisition really had me questioning what I was doing with my life and what I should truly value. My job technically requires me to help people, so I go about my day believing that I’m doing just that - It’s not about the money, or the benefits... I work because it helps others. Meanwhile, board members and investors who I’ve never met - people who control the entire direction of the company and its employee’s livelihoods - are passing it and other companies amongst themselves as if they were trading cards. This forced me to stop and take a look at what I was really doing. I thought I was helping people, but really I’m just making numbers go up and down for the people upstairs. My coworkers are only doing it to take the paycheck and feed their families. I’ve been placing a disproportionate amount of value into my day job, a place where people who I’ve never met could cut me loose in the blink of an eye just because I didn’t make the right numbers go high enough.

I’m not quitting or anything, it’s a great place to work, but it got me thinking about what it means for someone to value something. Bizarrely, my thoughts turned back to MSPA, and what happened to Homestuck. I’m not clear who owns which rights to the adventure, and I’m not saying that you shouldn’t profit off your own creation... but I DO remember when the MSPA forums were taken down, seemingly without reason, and we were all cut loose by someone upstairs, be it knowingly or not. The forums were down for many months, and now a bare bones version of the site that it used to be is up, managed by a publishing company. Thinking about all those posts that were lost still hurts a little bit.

The company I work for being acquired had some eerie parallels to not just Homestuck’s forum situation, but a couple of other projects and franchises that have grown too big and have had their creators cast their fans to the wayside... If I ever manage to rebuild my reputation, I don’t ever want to let anything like that ever happen to anything I make. If Waterworks truly matters to me, then I need to act like it.

#real life #waterworks mspa

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theheartsmistakes · 4 years

Text

The Last Night Part XII

(Author’s Notes: Sup guys! I hope you had a fantastic Fourth of July (for the American readers) and celebrated safely. If you are not American, I hope you had a fantastic weekend! Thank you for your patience while I worked through some writer’s block. I think I’m getting back into a swing though. I started reading a book that is set in the Edwardian period and it has helped me find the dialect and voice that I started with. I’ve been reading a lot of contemporary literature as of late and I think it’s influenced my writing a little, which is fine, but I’m fighting to remain consistent. I’m working on a novel of my own and it’s also based in the Edwardian period, but in a fantasy world, and I’ve been struggling to stay in the same dialect with that too. Anyhoo... I’m rambling... here is part 12. I hope that you enjoy it. Please hit the like, reblog, leave me a comment to cry happily over, and follow along for updates. Be safe! Be kind! Stay healthy.)

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Part XII

The following morning, James was settled in a wing chair in the game room, nominally enthralled by a short collection of poetry by Keats. It’d been a comfort to read Keats’ poetry when he would be feeling out of sorts. Perhaps because his father insisted on reading it to him as a child before bed. It seemed even in his adolescent and young adulthood, after weeks of sleepless nights cramming for examinations, going through drills during the day, and shivering through countless patrols in the chilly streets of London, he always enjoyed dozing in the warmth of a well-made fire, with Keats’ heart bleeding through the pages of his collection.

This naturally led to his considering what Keats would do in a situation like his. As his mind wandered into his thoughts, he was aware of the scent of late-blooming climbing rose coming in the window on a puff of air and he noted that the scent might have prompted the thought and he wondered whether Matthew would still be Matthew if he smelled of diesel and boot polish instead of bay rum, and what Cordelia, who smelled of roses and lime blossom to him, would be doing at this time of the day if she weren’t lying in her sick bed.

A swift clatter of boots on the stairs heralded Matthew’s arrival, and he closed the book, without the relief he’d been searching for, for even Keats couldn’t keep his mind from wandering.

“The Silent Brothers have gone,” said Matthew, his tone composed with his usual preferred demeanor of bored indifference.

“Gone where?” asked James.

“Back to the Citadel, I’m assuming,” said Matthew. He tugged at his starched shirt collar, and James could see he was warm with sweat about the neck, as if he had run all the way here. “Brother Zachariah remains and another, but I cannot recall his name, they all look the same to me.”

“Any word on Cordelia or Alastair?”

“Unfortunately not and the adults want a word with us in the dining room post haste. I assume they want a detailed description of our knowledge concerning the events of the night.” Matthew slumped in the other wing chair and covered his face with his arm. “

“Well, that’s certainly a blow to my afternoon plans,” said James, keeping his tone light in the hope that he could convince his parents and friends that he was calm enough to stand outside the bedroom that Cordelia had been moved into. They moved her in the night while he slept and no one would tell him the location due to his sudden outbursts. “If the other Brothers have left, that’s surely a good sign that Cordelia and Alastair are healing and are no longer in need of their attention.”

“It’s possible,” said Matthew from under his sleeve. “My parents are here, as are Kit’s and Thomas’s.” He groaned and added, “Charles insisted on coming as well. My life is over.”

James cursed. “What does he want?”

“‘To get to the bottom of this most unfortunate disaster’,” said Matthew, “his words, not mine. He’ll insist on lecturing us about how insubordinate we’ve all been, and how, seeing as we are underage, we have no business going out after the Carstairs siblings without briefing the adults with the situation first. He’ll make me file his paperwork for a month.”

“You’re being a bit dramatic,” said James.

Even as James spoke he felt the hypocrisy of offering comfort instead of truth. But what truth could he speak to his parabatai? Remembering the whispered conversations between his own parents after James had returned from near death by demon poisoning, James knew with a sinking feeling that his own investigation towards his grandfather would need to be done in absolute secrecy.

“Charles has been wanting to get me behind a desk since we were children,” said Matthew. “My mother will surely not object now that Shadowhunters are being plucked from their carriages in the streets.”

“Well, lucky for Charles, you’ve the best penmanship of all of us,” said James.

“So glad to hear that your humor has returned,”groaned Matthew, hanging his head so that his face was hidden beneath the fall of his hair. “Even if it is at my expense.”

“Pull yourself together, Math,” said James. He stood and tugged the edges of his jacket down as if to reinforce his words. “It will not serve to allow the entire household to hear such agitation. We have faced our parent’s fury before, this will be no different, I’m sure.” There was a pause, and James gazed out the window to allow Matthew a moment to compose himself. While he envied Matthew’s free and easy, passionate nature, his capacity for intense friendships, he always felt squeamish in the face of Matthew’s occasional display of emotion. He was accustomed to his own emotional outburst and Matthew insisting on James to calm down.

“You are right, of course,” said Matthew at last. He pulled a large silk handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his forehead. “Good to see you back to your more rational nature.”

“Thank you,” said James, fully aware that Matthew did not altogether mean it as a compliment. It was hardly fair that Matthew should provoke him into a purse-lipped rigidity and then insult him for it, but James’s first concern was to protect his friend from his own self-indulgence. “Now why don’t we make a suitable plan?�� he added. “I’ve learned long ago that it’s best to just nod in the presence of angered adults.”

Matthew nodded as if to show his ability to follow direction. “Perhaps we should share what we know about Belial.”

“I think not,” said James. “My parent’s have already made it quite clear that they don’t want us involved in the investigation any further. We will have to continue it without their knowing.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” said Matthew. “He nearly possessed you and tried to kill Cordelia twice.”

“Which is why we must continue the investigation on how to properly kill him because it can be sure that he will not stop until he has what he wants,” said James. “There has to be a way to kill him properly.”

“I hope it’s something obvious,” said Matthew, “like spritzing him with water or feeding him chocolate.”

A sound of voices in the hallway outside the game room was followed by a light knocking on the door and Thomas’s voice saying, “Of course I’ve forgotten the secret knock, it was far too complex to begin with.”

“They’re here to fetch us,” said Matthew urgently. James noticed that he did have a strange, pale look about his face, but perhaps, he thought, this was the properly deserved effect of too much rough cider.

“By the angel, it’s only Christopher and Thomas,” he said. “You and Thomas can look pale and interesting together. Of course, he’s only just lost his sister. Perhaps his situation will help your sense of perspective.”

“Your sarcasm lacks the delicacy that would render it amusing,” said Matthew. “But thank you for your reason. Your permanent frown always brings me to my senses.”

“I do not have a permanent frown,” said James. He took a brief look into the mirror over the mantle and consciously adjusted his features to a half smile, which only seemed to make him look as if he were in pain.

“Hello gentleman,” said Matthew, “do come in. It’s mercifully clear of authority in here.”

Christopher and Thomas came through the door, and James found himself slightly relieved that they were alone. Both of them were neatly dressed in tweed trousers, buttoned up shirts with suspenders. Christophers glasses rested on the end of his nose while Thomas' shirt strained heavily around the illustrious girth of his arms. Neither of them seemed to wear any hint of the previous night’s grievances.

“Welcome,” he said. “Is it time then?”

“Just about,” said Thomas and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve only just arrived with mum and dad and only convinced Christopher’s parents to allow him to leave their side by promising that we were only going as far as to fetch the two of you.”

“It’s already begun,” Matthew blurted out. “Behold men, your last minutes of freedom.”

“What’s he on about?” asked Thomas.

“Pay him no mind,” said James. “He’s consumed with the notion that due to the events of the last few nights our parents are going to handcuff us to desks until we come of age.”

“My mother suggested it,” said Christopher, “but I think my father has made progress against the idea.”

“See,” said James, gesturing to Christopher. “If my aunt Cecily can be brought to sense then so will your parents. Let’s just do what they ask of us and resume our investigation without their knowledge.”

“So not much different from what we’ve been doing for the past seventeen years?” said Matthew, shooting James a look. James could only roll his eyes as Christopher and Thomas drifted to the two wing chairs, where they sat and continued, for some minutes, to turn over the circumstances of the secret Belial investigation in a low and urgent manner.

“Any word on Cordelia and Alastair?” asked James.

Thomas nose flared as he met James’s gaze with an expression of frankness. “No,” he said. “Not that I’ve heard.”

James leaned against the wall and felt an echo of the agony that he had felt the night before and had to quell an urge to run out of the room and demand that someone give him information on the state of his fiance, seeing as far as everyone knew they were still engaged.

“I overheard our mother’s talking,” said Christopher to Matthew. “Alastair woke for a moment last night and was able to communicate with the Silent Brothers, but he is instructed to rest without visitors so that the injuries to his brain can continue to heal.” Matthew grumbled something under his breath. “Cordelia has been placed into an induced coma that she is unable to wake up from on her own. When her injuries have had some time to heal they’ll attempt to wake her up. The good news however is that the cure for her demon poisoning has allowed the runes to take a more immediate effect so she is healing.”

Christopher offered James a reassuring smile, which he appreciated more than he could properly express.

“Forget being tied to a desk,” muttered Matthew. “My mother will probably request having me put into an induced coma instead.”

Tessa Gray sat in the plush velvet couch in the front drawing room with her legs crossed at the ankles and her husband’s hand gently pressed against her shoulder while he sipped brandy from a glass tumbler in his free hand. Aunt Cecily was seated in a wing chair beside the fire with her husband Gabriel a respectful six feet away from Will. Aunt Sophie sat at the other end of the couch with Tessa, her hand held softly in the clutches of Gideon, both of them still carrying the misery of the loss of their eldest daughter Barbara. Charlotte Fairchild stood behind her husband’s wheelchair and beside her eldest son Charles. James knocked on the door and went in followed by Matthew, Christopher, and Thomas.

“Gentlemen,” said Will. “I hope that you all slept well and are prepared for punishment and ridicule.”

“William,” warned Tessa. “We simply want you to recount your details from the night the Carstair’s were attacked.

Matthew shifted beside James.

It had only just occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Lucie since they arrived at the Institute with Cordelia and she wasn’t in the room now. “Where is Lucie? She would have more to tell than any of us would.”

“Lucie has already recounted her experience,” said Tessa, one eyebrow raised. “She’s resting now. It’s the four of you that we wish to speak to now.”

“We are enacting an investigation on this prince of hell Belial,” said Charles, as he moved forward into the center of the room. “If we’re to be successful in locating him and effectively killing him then we need all of the information that you have concerning him.”

“I’ve already told my parents everything that I know about Belial,” said James. Both Will and Tessa turned him a look. James exhaled and began his recount of his experiences with Belial.

“And you believe Belial to be the one to have taken Miss Carstairs?” asked Charles when James was finished.

“I never saw him myself,” said James. “That would be a question for Lucie.”

“She claimed not to have seen him either,” said Charles, removing a pocket watch and checking the time before slipping it back into his trousers. “She said that she found Cordelia in the fog badly injured. She said that she lost you, but once the fog rolled away, you appeared again. Is this not the truth?”

James wasn’t sure what would compel his sister to lie about the events of Cordelia’s rescue, but he had to assume that there was a good reason and one that he would explore later when he could speak to his sister himself.

“It’s the truth,” said James. “As I told you before Lucie disappeared into the fog and I ran after her. We lost each other for some time, and when the fog moved off, she was there again with Cordelia.”

Charles stroked his chin. “It’s been unanimously agreed upon that the four of you, including Lucie and Anna, will be restricted to local patrols during daylight hours and are to report in detail any and all demon activity. If you so choose to break your restrictions then your punishment will be as sever as I see warranted.”

“What exactly would you see warranted?” asked James.

“You’ll be sent to Alicante,” said Charles, his eyes marked on Matthew, “where you’ll remain until you come of age and if you continue to disobey direct orders then the punishment will be as severe as stripping you of your marks.”

“Charles,” Charlotte hissed from beside her husband. “We never mentioned—“

“It is for their own safety, mother,” said Charles, squaring his shoulders. “I do hope it doesn’t come to such extremes, but in this case, the safety of one is the safety of them all. I do hope this will encourage them to keep each other accountable.”

Though it pained James that these new founded restrictions would limit his personal research on finding a way to kill Belial, it did not discourage him in the least. In fact, he was even more excited about the prospect of an opportunity to infuriate Charles. If one of them were to be sent to Alicante, he was sure the rest would follow, and he couldn’t strip them all of their marks. What with Shadowhunters being down in numbers as it were. Charles tactics were classic: infiltrate fear into the army without ever enacting punishment. Not that Charles would ever find out if they were going against him. Charles was too busy building his castle out of sand to see what goes on around him.

“I think Charles has allowed power to go to his head,” said Will, under his breath. He’d been in something of high spirits since Jem had arrived at the Institute and been ordered to stay to help the Carstairs siblings mend. “Don’t fret, Jamie boy, if you are stripped of your marks, Coleridge lived a life of poverty and had to be sustained by charitable friends and he turned out fine.”

“William,” Tessa hissed. “Do be serious for a moment. Jamie, as much as we regret taking away your personal freedoms, it is of the utmost importance that you heed the restrictions put in place for you. Even if he is being a power hungry, conniving, son of a--”

“What your mother is trying to convey,” said Will, moving in front of her, “is that you should be careful and mindful of your action.”

“I could always become a postman like Trollope?” said James. “I’ll begin to work on my beard.”

Will bellowed and clapped James on the shoulder just as the doors to the drawing room were opened by the footman and in walked Brother Zachariah with Sona beside him. Her graying hair has come loose and spilled down her back in an array of perfect waves that mirrored the texture of her daughters. Her expression was somber; deep circles sat under her eyes and her lips were impossibly dry.

Her arm was entwined with Jem’s as they shuffled into the room.

James, followed by Tessa and Will, hurried across the room to meet them.

“Mrs. Carstairs is in need of some rest,” said Brother Zachariah. “She would like to request that James remain with Miss Cordelia while she is away.”

James took her free hand and offered it a reassuring squeeze.

“She is lost in there,” said Sona, her voice rough and weathered. “I can feel it. It helps if you read to her. Let her hear the sound of your voice so she has something to walk towards in all of that darkness.”

“I can show you to a room,” said Tessa, a note of emotion in her voice that she quickly cleared away.

“That would be lovely thank you,” said Sona and removed her arm from Jem’s for Tessa’s.

“Perhaps some light broth,” said Brother Zachariah. “She hasn’t eaten much and I worry for the child.”

Tessa nodded and led Sona from the room.

Brother Zachariah turned his attention to James. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better after some sleep,” said James. “I can go to Cordelia now if you wish.”

“She is having a bath,” said Jem, “but in the next hour. Prepare to make yourself comfortable, perhaps bring some literature. As Sona said before, it is of the utmost importance that you continue to speak to her, give her something to walk towards, or the Cordelia that you know can become lost in her thoughts forever.”

James' voice became bitter. “Why is she in a coma if it means she could become lost inside of her mind? Can’t you wake her up?”

“The injuries that she has sustained would be too terrible to be conscious during,” said Jem. “The body is able to heal much quicker if the mind is asleep to the pain.”

James drew himself into as stiff of a column as he could and clamped his teeth down on a small quiver of his jaw. He resolved himself in that moment to give Cordelia whatever she needed; if he had to read to her for days, weeks, even months then that was what he would do.

(Next update is going to be Sunday 7/12... maybe)

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years

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P-please talk about your Rito OC, please... ramble without any context, please... I have one too... please make me feel less alone...

Ok ok let me just *unloads all of Illeka’s super angsty self-indulgent backstory*

I technically have two backstories, one for botw that I’m gonna use for my fic Where Time Takes Us, and another I use for my dnd campaign. My dnd one is more fleshed out (thanks to my amazing GM) so I’ll probably just share that one.

Warning for super duper long post that is barely coherent and I haven’t checked for typos and also rip to ADHD folks because I have no pictures to ease your brain with. Anyhow prepare for like thousands of words worth of rambles this is not edited at all

This is just a copy paste of the random incoherent shit I sent to my poor DM. Anyhow, I technically have 3 ocs here, but Illeka is the one I play

A weird Rito, that one is. I hear they’ve only cried at birth...

- Illeka was born on the Day of Living Fire, its a celebration of the dead essentially, where you mourn and remember your loved ones and ancestors and all that. It’s superstition to be *born* on this day, because your life/creation takes away from the day that’s supposed to honor the dead, and some people on birb island believe these things, that if you let the kid live it’s a curse. But most people are like no wtf you boomers it’s fine there’s no such thing you crazy old people are weird, which to be fair is kinda true.

- When Talako is around 6, his single mom dies. He’s adopted by a new family, Kala (also around 6 years old) and her parents.

- Illeka meets Talako after he kinda follows her around, because he’s an innocent cinnamon bun that admires Illeka’s calm and stoic demeanor after they help him with some bullies. Through this, Talako, Illeka, and Kala all become best friends.

- The events in Illeka’s life aren’t really helping their whole curse case. Every bad event, from their dad getting injured and having the slightest limp, to their brother, Zekk nearly setting himself on fire— it’s all a supposed punishment for not killing them when they were bored. But at this point most people brush it off as coincidence, besides, nothing THAT bad has happened yet.

- the trio of friends grow strong, becoming some of the best in their arts on the island. And their relationship is seemingly adorable. The serious ~~cursed~~ one, the optimistic sunshine one, and the sarcastic firey one. Prides of their village, set to protect their people from harm.

- Illeka is the best in the village when it comes to physical fights. Trusty halberd, and a keen shot with a bow, they’ve never lost a sparring match on that front. Their personality is offputting to some, there’s a rumour that they’ve never cried. The easiest of jokes, and the vilest of insults don’t spark much reaction from them— except in the presence and topic of their family, Kala, and Talako. But otherwise, the story goes that the cursed kid doesn’t have a soul, and hence, no morality or emotions.

- When they train with Talako and Kala, they never back down, if only out of respect, Illeka wouldn’t want to embarrass them with pity. Talako always laughs at his inevitable defeat, though he tries nonetheless. He promises that one day he’ll be strong enough to beat them.

- Talako is a pleasant soul, but has an nack for adventure and a hint of chaos. He prefers to dual wield daggers, and on occasion a short sword or two. He’s great with the blade, loves the thrill of the fight, but is more skilled with cooking and physical healing and remedies. He’s always the one encouraging fun celebratory hang outs at the tavern, with his two closest friends after a day of guarding the village. Kala always sides with him, and Illeka typical gives in after at least putting on a show of reluctance. He humble and happy and loved by most of the village, if only things would last

- Kala is of wit and cunning, she’s typically the first to speak. She’s headstrong and not afraid to insult whoever she displeases, and a bit too arrogant in her abilities. She laughs at all of Talako’s jokes, if perhaps only to spite Illeka’s groans. She’s also the most strategic of her friends, being the “one with a plan” in battle. While she’s a decent wield of two khopesh, Kala’s mostly gifted with magic. She’s got a knack for conjuring, though is well researched in other types as well. Illeka and her are an even match, with decent win ratios on either end. Illeka doesn’t take it that personally, they suck/hate magic after all. Kala’s a bit more competitive tho.. While her power in magic is certainly the best on all of the island, she can’t help but feel salty/jealous for always being overshadowed by Illeka’s feats, since the people prefer/understand the physical over the magic.

- Oh, and she was born on day after the Day of Living Fire, according to her parents. How lucky.

- In a sense, they’re all a bit of an outcast. Kala the fiery independent one, a bit sidecasted for prefering magic over steel. Talako the weird orphan, for being a chirpy, happy boi, which is a bit annoying for some. And Illeka…well lets just say their situation isn’t going to be improving

- One year, Illeka’s family is expecting more kids, twin sisters at that! It’s the most excited anyone’s ever seen Illeka, thought perhaps that’s not the right word… They’ve still got their usual demeanor, but they did spend nearly a week crocheting little baby hats and tunics and scarves. They threatened to kill their brother if they told anyone, although Zekk was allowed to let it slip to Tal and Kala

- [They are absurdly good at crochet btw. They never do it anymore to try and maintain their “reputation,” but their family will never forget the time they crafted matching blankets and hats to win a little competition in their home town.]

- Then the Day of Living Fire arrives for that year. Theres a little celebration for Illeka’s birthday, before moving on to other activities.

- The twins die that night.

- The village was in a bit of shock…and rumours grow considering the timing of it. The mysterious circumstance of it…well it does turn the heads of even some of the less-superstitious. The rumours, the death, the silent thought that perhaps that cursed bird caused some babies’ death, Illeka endured it.

- Years later would it get worse.

- Illeka is still publically respected at this point, weird rumours sure, but try telling that to the edge of her halberd. Their mother had made the twin’s shrine, but they say Illeka didn’t visit that often. Talako was always by their side, trying to help them, which was always appreciated, even when they tried to hide it.

- Kala was busy in the library these days.

- Zekk had started a family by now, a little baby birb named Mili hatched into the world. Illeka would often steal her away for little cuddles when they (thought) no one was looking. Zekk would jest that they had to fight for the right to hold his own kid. Kala would also occasionally tease them about it, though Tal was mostly happy to see them in better spirits

- Then, another Day of Living Fire.

- Talako and Illeka were usually on guard duty together, the northern patrol by the village edge. But tal was still a bit worried about his friend’s state of mind, he’s not sure he’d even seen them mourn. He pushes for Illeka to take the day off, it’s technically their birthday after all, plus they can pay their respected at the shrines and attend the festivities and do the ceremonies and all that. Illeka denies it, brushing it off like they always do.

- Soon, their nightly patrol begins, and Illeka is about to set off to met up with Talako, but Kala intercepts. She has a talk with them, similar to that of Talako’s, but with…more well crafted and laced words. It’s nearly the same message that Talako tried to tell them, “It’ll be healthy for you, visit the shrines, be with your family, maybe brush off some rumours in the process.” Illeka nearly denies again, joking that Talako would get afraid of the dark if they didn’t show up. But Kala interjects, stating that she’s already made plans to take the patrol that nigth with Tal. Trusting their friends to be safe in each others care, Illeka relents and takes the day off.

- …yeah. so

- perhaps you can see where this is going.

- Kala’s jealousy had been growing over the years. Not only was she being shadowed by Illeka and their non magic ways, but it was irritating even more that all the talk about magic in the town was not of her exceptional abilties, but of stupid rumours and non-existent evil curses. If the people wanted show, she’d give them a show

- This mindset made her spars with Illeka a bit more personal as of late, getting it in her head that she needed to get stronger, strong enough to best Illeka with ease. Strong enough so that there would be no question who was the best warrior on the island, magic, bows, halberds, or no.

- The library had many forgotten books that she had been studying. Conjuring, rituals, illusions, necromancy. It was all…beautiful. Kala soaked in every word, sometimes berating the bookkeeper offhandedly for not keeping them in the best condition

- In her research she eventually found a beast. A..thing, a demon? A monster, the specifics weren’t there, but the gist of it was, if you had the courage to summon it, it would grant you the knowledge for attaining anything you desired. All it asked in return was…to eat some people.

- But not just any people mind you! Supposedly the ritual only worked for the people with the greatest of ambitions, willing to sacrifice the lives of people they might care about. The sacrifices had to be of someone with great trust and bond with the person.

- Kala’s parents disappeared that day, a few feathers laid about, but there was no blood.

- Near the northern border, by a open field, a weird circle dripped the grass red

- Talako waited by the village edge, ready to fly off with their patrol partner when they arrived. When Kala greeted him, he was a bit surprised, but happy when she explained that Illeka had gone off back to town.

- Indeed Illeka was with their family now, as the sun started to set. Occasionally, a passerby would give them a weird glance before walking swiftly away.

- Somewhere in the northern border, a warrior is knocked unconcious, and dragged upon a blood red pattern

- Illeka is by her sisters’ shrine. For the sliver of a moment, they contemplate crying.

- Then an explosion is heard off in the distance

- Talako was wide awake at this point, although his wings being pinned to his sides wasn’t that helpful considering there was a giant, *giant* dark monster in front of him.

- Kala lets off a final remark, saying it was for his own good. The death would be swifter if he didn’t squirm.

- He whipped back at her, glaring with a fire she hasn’t seen before. He calls her a coward for tricking Illeka, a coward for kill their parents, a coward for not even giving him the decency to fight for his life.

- She nearly smiles at the last remark. “Fine.” She tosses him his blades. “You were never much of a warrior anyway.”

- Illeka was flying towards the booming sound at full speed, nearly knocking over their family and other mourning, people in the process. A few others had tried to slow them down, claiming they should suit of better first, before confronting whatever had been the source of the explosion. Illeka didn’t listen.

- They barely had time to grab a weapon, before approaching the northern border. After gracing the crests of the hill tops, they finally saw it. A giant demonic beast, snapping it’s jaws against a flying dash of black feathers, Talako.

- Illeka called out to him, nearly dashing off into the air again, but they stopped when they spotted Kala, standing idlely by next to her.

- Before they could even speak, before they could even question why she was acting so nonchalantly while their best friend was fighting for their life against an evil monstrosity, Kala shook her head and spoke. “You always have to ruin my fun, don’t you?” She struck a magic blow and Illeka, square in the chest.

- It knocked them to the ground, but they got up, setting their halberd and pointing it at them.

- Then insert some dramatic scene where Kala is like “you’re so selfish, hogging all the attention, thinking you’re better than me, but today I’m gonna finally best you mwahaha” and Illeka is like “wtf why did you do this? I thought we were friends? I trusted you?? the fuck? also talako is our friend!!?” and then its “yeah thats right I manipulated your stupid feelings to gain the upperhand. you’re super pathetic honestly for falling for it. anyhow yeah talako will probably die, i tried to give him the luxary of a swift death but he wouldn’t listen, so now he’s probably gonna get brutally slayed lol” and illeka is all “I’ll kill you” and kala is “no u. This whole thing is gonna give me so much power no ones gonna question me again” and then they fight each other

- The duel is nearly a draw, Kala’s magical ability is certainly is certainly stronger, but she’s not as all powerful without that knowledge from the demon monster guy that needs to eat his meal. Illeka is fighting with all theyve got, but all they brought was a halberd, but they are very fueled by rage and spite so it’s still an even match. Illeka eventually lands a blow that’s got Kala bleeding severely, but Kala pretty much almost kills them with a direct attack. Kala’s too weak to finish the job, plus those other guards have finally started to fly and approach in the distance, so she flys off. Illeka finally slips into unconsciousness.

- When they wake up, it’s almost sunrise. Their mom is shaking them awake, part of the party that was investigating the explosion that summoned the beast. Illeka bolts up, they’re still in the field were they had fought Kala, but she and the beast are no where to be seen.

- They run off, trying to find Talako, and ho boy do they find him alright. His body is crumpled by some rocks, his wing nearly ripped clean off, theres so much blood, even a warrior like Illeka can hardly bare it. Some small bit of hope in their head thinks that he might still be alive, and they listen to his chest to see if he’s still breathing.

- His eyes flicker once at Illeka, his chest rises, then falls for the last time.

- Illeka cries.

- Then, still pretty wounded and tired, they collapse again

- The days following are living hell. Kala hasn’t been found, and their her parent’s [bodies]. The rumours are creeping as ever, at the coincidence of Illeka and this disaster. They spend nearly a weak in bed at home, recovering physically, thought probably not mentally.

- As soon as they’ve fully recovered, Illeka’s mind is set. They are going to leave, no more warrior/village protection for them. They’re going to travel far off, train and hone their skills in combat, and find and kill Kala.

- Their family is opposed to this at first, but in the end nothing they say changes Illeka’s mind.

- In a sense, there was another, unspoken reason Illeka was leaving the islands. They didn’t want to hurt anyone else.

- Hell, the rhetoric is even stronger down the line, concerning the fate of poor Mili. Illeka has given in and accepted it, they are cursed to cause pain to the people they care about. [It’s basically that trope of the character isn’t actually cursed but they believe they’re cursed] Illeka will stay away, and go it alone for as long as they can. Then once the deed is done, once they draw Kala’s corpse across the mud, they’ll probably fly off somewhere far to die, before anyone else gets hurt. It’s probably best for their family never to see them again.

- - - - - -

Wow you did it, you made it through the super angsty self-indulgent backstory congrats. Illeka is my lil baby and I love them and I’ve gonna send them on a revenge quest and then they were gonna have a cool character arc probably about learning to grieve and have self worth and all that and to actually allow themselves to show emotions for once in their lives. That’s the general plan I had in my head anyhow

But you know what my dm thought?

They were like how about mORE ANGSt

Fucking shit you not, session three of the campaign, I’m heading back to birb island because of circumstances, and I’m getting supplies from my blacksmith dad and showing off this sword that says “fuck” a lot that I got from a dungeon that took a selkie’s soul which they gave up willingly in exchange for fire hair...long story

but THEN I meet up with my bro Zekk and it’s like “wassup bro just passing through” but then I find out that Talako’s shrine thing was DESTORYED by some unknown entity and that’s very not good because spirituality and all that

and also I find Mili and they’re a cute lil toddler birb now aww it’s so great hope nothing happens to them because I sure do have enough emotional traume to burden right now. anyhow due to CIRCUMSTANCES our only lead to the thing that destroyed Talako’s shrine is 1) a delinquent named Chesio [that our party nicknamed cherrio because the GM misspelled it the first time i think] who apparently was Talako’s shitty cousin and his only living relative who could build his shrine and 2) the destruction of the shrine lines up with a period of time where Mili went missing but its ok she came back so her parents were like “chill we gucci”

Our party decides we should go down the Mili lead [because I accidentally knocked Cherrio i mean Chesio to near death with a crit roll with my halberd so they’re in the infirmary now but it’s really not my fault that they triggered my emotional trauma by mentioning how I keep running away from grief and never staying around to confront it it’s fiiiiiiiiiiiiine] so we stop by Zekk’s house and we’re like “hey so remember when you disappeared for like a week where did you go, and then mili was like “oh it’s in this cavern that no one knows about and I can’t really give you the directions but I can lead you there if you take me with you” in which I then glare at the GM for this obvious attempt to force us to take Mili with us to put her in danger and apparently I was the ONLY one who cared about this because everyone else in the party was ready to adopt this birb child, and Zekk was like “sure take the kiddy harness” so here I am, watching my niece run around in a kiddy harness that’s also attached to me, while my Chaotic neutral party someone gets grilled cheese sandwiches in the background

Badabing, badaboom, we come to some crystal caverns. while I, being one of the only members of the party with morals other than one chaotic good dragonborn, am watching the selkie, halfoot, and elf girl steal a bunch of crystals, Mili fucking DISAPPEARS the fucking KIDDY HARNESS fucking NOT GOOD she FCUKING SLIPPED OUT AND SHES GONE AND IM FREAKING OUT

after about an hour or two of searching through the deeper parts of the cavern and tunnel and also fighting a minotaur and discovering an abandoned arena and a cleric, long story. We find Mili fucking laying on A NECROMANCER’S RITUAL CIRCLE WHAT THE FU-

I pull a “I don’t hesitate bitch” on the hooded dude that’s hovering and chanting shit. He’s dead, it’s all swell. Saved the day, the evil’s dead. Mili’s fine she can go back to being a cute lil baby who loves shiny rocks and-

oh wAIT actually Mili is still transformed into a demonic monster and the necromancer dude was actually in the middle of completing a ritual to bring her back to life after he killed her a few times

So turns out, necromancer dead dude was hired by a mysterious someone, to steal something from Talako’s shrine, and to destroy any evidence. Turns out, his methodology for doing so was to kidnap some birb kid who had the misfortune of wander too close, killing them, turning them into some demonic monster that does their bidding, using that monster to steal and ruin some shit, and then when the day’s done he turns them back like nothing happened. Sure do wish he was alive to redo that last part

I’m freaking out, the party’s freaking out, that sword from earlier is cursing to high heaven for no apparent reason. Cleric unhelpfully remarks how it was a bad idea that we impulsively killed the evil dude bro, yes wow thank you for the help

Eventually everything’s fine. After a few round of shouting “NO ONE TOUCH MY FUCKING NIECE OR YOU DIE” after said demonic niece is kinda mindlessly attacking everyone, we eventually do some good ol blunt force trauma and a bit of magic and BOOM. Mili’s back. Although they do have permanent black ritual markings on them but its fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinee (its not)

We find a note on necromancer dude bro that his employer was from another island, so that’s a lead yay Find Out Next SessionTM but at this point I really don’t care as I’ve already started tying Mili to my chest and walking back to the village

I go back to Zekk’s house, hand off Mili, explain everything that happened, give a super heart feel apology about how I pretty much killed Mili (even though I really didn’t but also as we all know Illeka is an angsty birb who’s steadfast in the idea that their existence hurts everyone they love so yay <3) and then I leave as fast as I can before anyone can protest sure was nice visiting my family after i’ve been away for a few months sure am glad that my inner thoughts about staying away weren’t justified whatsoever hmmmmmm

A session or two passes. We try to assassinate and elf’s evil parents and fail, we get into a Fake Dating Being Someone’s Children Au with a dragon. The selkie keeps trying to date everyone, even thought they’re already married to a necromancer princess and a boat (long story) and inbetween we head to that island that note i got was talking about and turns out it was to a place where all your inner demons and anxieties manifest into reality and taunt you, until youre slowly broken down to the point where the evil dictator on the island can “magic” away your problems with puppet strings. fun for the whole family!

Anyways, after our party fights out evil neon-blue clones, I get a lead from dictator dude that the employer I’m looking for is a Rito that’s good with magic, and was last seen headed east, in the same direction we just came from. fun.a

So I’m kinda low on leads, other than the fact that theres a magic school in the east, but in between we have to deal with the fact that husboat (again, the boat that is married to the selkie who is also our entire party’s form of transportation across the ocean. wait a sec did I mention that we weren’t in Hyrule? We’re not in Hyrule, this is a flooded land with a bunch of islands. Think wind waker) was being chased by pirates. also these pirates were the ones that raised the selkie, and also they kinda also slaughtered an entire island of halffoots in their time with the pirates, and also that island was the one that the halffoot in our party grew up in. So basically that’s some cool tension and drama. Anyhow, back to moi

One talk about how “no we cannot kidnap aNOTHER priest” to the selkie and elf later... magic school! Magic school is pretentious and I hate it. Everythings glowy, they don’t allow you to fly over the gates. There’s puffy noble middle aged men and children in bedazzled cloaks. There’s magic in the air and I swear I would choke and die on the glitter and rainbows of it all.

Half the party is off getting into cloak fashion, I head off with my dragonborn friend Ness because highfive! We’re the only one’s with morals in this party! Morality pals! (This is saying something considering I am true neutral and she’s chaotic good but we might as well be clerics in this party...)

My morality pal and I and hanging around, then we catch word that there’s this transfer student that no one has seen in a while and “oh I wonder where she could be” and all that jazz from other students. Mortality pals are like “ok let’s go look for her” so we drag the rest of the party off of their larceny spree and look around.

Eventually, after I spot a tattered cloak roaming the halls that matches the description of the gossip, we find the transfer student.

TURNS OUT (unsurprisingly honestly given the way the dm framed stuff) this transfer student is someone I know. She’s standing there, in the middle of the room, preparing to do some ritual or something. She’s standing there, my life purpose, my one and only goal, literally the only reason I’m still going in life, my arch nemesis, my target, my mortal fucking enemy. It’s Kala.

Ness sees a demon dog in the background and says hi, ruining our element of surprise, but to be fair, she doesn’t know it’s Kala.

Kala whips around from her table thing. We make eye contact. Her face suddenly shift from confusion to surprise to bewilderment to shock to happiness.

Happiness.

“Illeka I thought you were dead!” Kala runs towards me, but I’m too shocked to move.

She’s smiling. It’s not sadistic, it’s not...harmful, it’s just genuine joy. For a moment I thought I saw a tear in her eye.

Kala hugs me for a long moment, before letting go. “So how did you survive?”

...

In my head I’m thinking, “oh you fuck face”

THE. AUDACITY. OF. THIS. BITCH.

“HOWD I SURVIVE” UH NO THANKS TO YOU FOR ALMOST KILLING ME FOR YOUR STUPID RITUAL WHATEVER THAT KILLED TALAKO WTFFF

ARE YOU REALLY TRYING TO PULL THE SAME TRICK AGAIN??? GONNA PRETEND TO BE ALL SENTIMENTAL AND NICE JUST TO TRY AND KILL ME LATER ON? HA OK OK

how about instead, I do the one good thing, the one worthwhile thing I can do in my entire life...just one simple course of action that might hope to make up for the mountain of regret that is my entire existence.

I am finally going to kill you.

Kala’s staring at me, eyes curious, head tilted as if all she ever did was ask what I had for brunch.

I blink once, and my neutral expression, faintly coated with shock morphs into determination.

I roll for initiative.

- - - - - -

It’s 1am.

So have a cliffhanger, kinda.

If anyone bothers to read this far, congrats! Your reward is me being lazy. I’ll tell you what happened sometime tomorrow if anyone really wants to know :P Long story short, it doesn’t end how I, and therefore probably you, would except.

#haha brain go- shamelessly talk about Illeka for 3 thousand words #i actually dont know the word count i didnt check i think it's 4k??#the thing i copy pasted is like 2k and the campaign stuff i added is....idk #not botw kinda #rito oc #kinda #dnd #kip talks for too long #i'd write this better but its 1am #good luck if you can actually read this

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lovely-aestheticcc · 4 years

Text

Promise?

(Peter Parker X Reader)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: First imagine!! I’ve been wanting to start a tumblr blog for forever, so I’m really excited to finally get it done. I also have a wattpad account (which is also called lovely-aestheticcc) where I will be posting these imagines as well, so please be sure to check it out if you are on that platform. I hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: My work is not to be reposted anywhere without my expressed written consent. However, reblogging is not only appreciated, but also encouraged! + I do NOT own MCU or any of the characters I write about!

SUMMARY: After Peter blows you off yet again, you go to his apartment to confront him, only to find out that your boyfriend isn't really just Peter Parker -- he's Spider-Man, too.

WARNINGS: Angst if you squint + fluffy ending!

WORD COUNT: 970

✺ ✺ ✺

“I’m gonna kill him. I swear, this time I’m actually gonna do it. I’m going to murder my boyfriend,” you thought to yourself.

Usually, you were a pretty chill person. However, mix in an honors chemistry test that you now had less than fifteen hours to study for and the fact that your usually very dedicated boyfriend had blown you off for the third time this week -- not to mention it was only Wednesday. Not only that, but he was constantly always giving some kind of nonsense excuse, like’ “Oh I’m sorry baby, I promised Ned I’d finally help him build the lego death star,” or “May said I’ve been going out too much. Is it cool if we rain check?” These excuses, and many, many others were precisely why you were practically marching your way up to Peter and May’s apartment.

Knocking on the apartment door, you cross your arms as you mentally prepare yourself to give Peter the scolding of his lifetime the second the door swings open. However, when it does, you come face to face with none other than his Aunt May. With a warm smile upon her face, she quickly ushered you into the apartment -- and into a big hug -- as she greeted you.

“Hi Y/N! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever sweetie. How’ve you been?”

Quickly plastering your own smile onto your face, you gave her a quick hug back as you replied.

“Hey May! I’ve been doing great actually. I hate to cut this short, but is Peter here? He promised he’d come by right after school, and now it’s- “

“6 o’clock.” She cut you off with wide eyes. “W-what do you mean he didn’t come by? I swear that boy is gonna be the death of me, he’s always going somewhere or doing something without even telling me!” She complained. “Look hun, you can go stay in his room for now, I know you guys have to prepare for the chem test tomorrow. I’m gonna go try Peter’s cell, okay?”

Even though you knew that was practically hopeless seeing as you had already tried texting, calling, and snap-chatting him at least a dozen times today, you simply nodded. “Thanks May,” you said whilst making your way towards his room.

✰ ✰ ✰

Another hour had passed, and there was still no sign of Peter. If you weren’t worried already, you definitely were now. Your mind was racing nearly as fast as your heart as the worst things started to come to mind. “Could he be cheating on me? I mean, I couldn’t see him ever doing something like that, but who knows? Oh God, what if something happened to him? At least before he’d give me some stupid reason why he couldn’t make it, but now, nothing!”

You were brought out of your mind and back to reality as you heard the window open, and saw a bruised and disoriented Peter stumbled into the room. Quickly standing up from the bed, you scampered over to him, questions immediately leaving your mouth. “P-Peter? What the hell happened to you? Are you okay? Why’d you come in through the window? Wait, what are you wearin-” Your mouth instantly snapped shut as realization hit you. “You’re Spider-Man?”

Immediately, he began shaking his head as if it was the only thing he knew how to do. “NO!” He practically exclaimed, “No, no, no. Look Y/N, this isn’t what it looks like! I promise, I-I can explain.” he rambled on as he took your hands in his own.

For a second there, you could've sworn that you actually saw red. ”What do you mean it’s not what it looks like!?” You whisper-shouted. As angry and upset as you were, you still had the sense to think that his Aunt May probably -- okay, definitely -- did not know that he was… well, who he was.

Pushing his hands out of your own, your eyes widened as you say back on his bed, covering your face with the palms of your hand.

”How could this not be what it looks like, Peter!? Because from what I'm seeing, it looks like you're the ’Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man’ you've been acting like you couldn't care any less about!”

He knelt down to be closer to where you were seated on his bed and nodded quickly, as if agreeing with you would make you feel better about the situation. ”I know, I know I've been lying and I've been secretive and I know you’re angry at me right now and you have every right to be. But please, baby, you have to understand. I only did it because I had to keep you safe. May doesn't even know, o-or Ned, and-”

Quickly, you pulled him close to you and cut him off with a kiss. As much as you hated the fact that he had to keep it from you, you could understand why he did. After all, you had always been a very ’put yourself in their shoes’ kind of person.

As you kissed him passionately, you could have sworn you felt the relief flooding through Peter’s veins.

”I’m not mad at you, baby; I get it, I promise.” You reassured him. ”As much as I wish you didn't have to keep it from me, that's the last thing on my mind right now. I'm more worried about those bruises on your face, ” you frowned at him as you caressed his cheek where a deep purple bruise was forming.

”So you're really not breaking up with me or anything? You're not mad, promise?” He questioned with hopeful eyes.

Smiling brightly, you brought him in for a hug as you soothingly rubbed his back. ”I could never break up with you baby, I promise.”

✺ ✺ ✺

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