#i also expected sally to be a little more hesitant meeting him for the first time but she let him smell her butt which is huge!!

[growlithe]

he’s sooo fucking beautiful though! he was the breeders pick of the litter but she didn’t need another boy and it really shows! He came from Brisbane on a 3hr flight and was so happy and confident as soon as we got him despite going through the scariest day he’s ever experienced

[lonely-lost-soul]

First Lady of the Court Pt. II

(Wilbur Soot x Reader) Part I, Part II, Part III

Part 2: Moments

      The first time Tubbo snuck you out of the city it was like a breath of fresh air. Schlatt was on your last nerve while you tried to keep everything else together. Your duties included collecting unfair taxes, answering questions from concerned citizens, getting Schlatt cigars and booze but you tried to keep your main focus on watching over Fundy. While Fundy was on Schlatt’s side now you still wanted to keep an eye on him for Wilbur, trying to sow the seed that this wasn’t the best decision in the world. Plus Fundy always saw you as a mother figure so you hoped you had a little bit of influence over him and his actions. Although you never wanted to replace Sally, his actual mom, he still looked up to you like one and you treated him as a son. You let the breeze tickle your cheeks as Tubbo led you towards Pogtopia, you were disappointed seeing you were now headed inside of a cave and couldn’t stay in the fresh air. Did they need to make their base an underground bunker? You supposed that logically, it did make the most sense, considering they were in hiding from the government. 

      “Be careful okay?” Tubbo smiled over at you, “There are no railings or anything I don’t want you to fall. I think Wilbur would kill me!” You nodded as he led you down the steps of the cavern, you were in awe at the lights that were set up all around you. It was amazing what they managed to do in such a short amount of time. While you were away from the boys Tubbo managed to fill you in on who Technoblade was and would constantly update you on what Tommy and Wilbur were up to. You couldn’t wait to experience everything they created in person. “Hey, guys it’s me!” Tubbo shouted his voice echoing off the walls of the cave, “I brought a surprise.” He flashed a big smile in your direction, his eyebrows wiggling at you suggestively. 

       “A surprise?” Tommy raised an eyebrow stepping out into the open and once he caught sight of you he let out a loud shrieking laugh. He ran over and tossed his arms around your neck, you were much shorter than him so the hug was a little awkward but you appreciated it nonetheless. 

      “Hi, Tommy. I missed you too.” You hugged him back with a squeeze and a soft giggle of your own, “You holding up okay?”

      “I’m gonna be much better when we get Manburg back from Schlatt’s clutches. God, it’s so good to see you, women, I can’t believe I’m saying that! Wilbur’s gonna lose his shit! WILBUR GET IN HERE!” 

      “Shut up Tommy I’m coming, I’m coming.” Wilbur groaned walking into the room, his trenchcoat floating behind him. “What exactly is so important. I was in the middle of something rather importannnnnnn- (Y/N),” He sputtered jaw-dropping as he saw you. You looked just as beautiful as he last remembered you, the bags under your eyes were new, as was the suit, but other than that you were the epitome of a goddess in his eyes. Meanwhile, he looked like a homeless mess covered in dirt and grime, hair a greasy mess, clothes tattered. Wilbur never wanted to die more than he did at this moment. 

You didn’t care about any of that though he was still your Wilbur, you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was. “Hey, Wilby long time no see.”  You walked up to him and wrapped him in a hug, you pressed your head to his chest, “I missed you so much.” Your voice was soft, as you squeezed your eyes shut, you felt the ex-president tense up in your hold. 

Oh god did he smell? He totally smelled. Wilbur prayed that he didn’t smell, could you tell how fast his heart was beating? He hesitantly ran a hand through your hair and caressed it softly, it was just as soft as he remembered. He missed it more than he ever would’ve imagined.

      “I missed you too my darling,” He whispered, “so much. You have no idea.” Wilbur looked up to see the smirking faces of Tommy and Tubbo and his face turned bright red. They both were mouthing ‘simp’ at him, well it was more Tommy than Tubbo but still. He glared at his companions and pulled away from you, “Let’s go talk in private okay?” You tried to turn around to glance behind you but Wilbur only dragged you away so you couldn’t get a good look at the teenagers. As soon as the two of you were alone Wilbur cupped your cheeks and pressed an almost desperate kiss against your lips. You sighed happily into it, grabbing the collar of his trench coat to hold him close to you. Wilbur rested his head against your own and after a few minutes of silence he finally spoke up, “How’re you doing?” 

      “Usually that’s asked before you kiss.” A smirk was planted on your lips as you reached up and twirled his curls between your fingers. He burned red up to the tips of his ears and he nudged you while scoffing, “I’m hanging in there Wilbur. I’m stronger than I look, remember that.” 

      “And Fundy?” Wilbur asked a bit hesitantly, “I’m sure he has no desire to know about me and I guess I don’t deserve to know about him but even so…”

      “He’s doing good...he’s very… I guess confused is the right word. He’s desperately trying to gain Schlatt’s approval, I think he just to make someone proud-”

      “I’m proud of him!” Wilbur tried to argue and you shushed him softly, 

      “I know Will, I know. But does he know that?” You raised an eyebrow as he shrunk in on himself. “I’m looking out for him though so try not to worry, he still seems to tolerate me.” Wilbur looked relieved at the fact that you were still in Fundy’s good graces and were keeping an eye on him. 

      “You’re an angel, (Y/N). When this is over I’m gonna marry the shit out of you.” 

      “Oh stop.” You tossed your head back with a laugh, your (h/c) hair falling in front of your eyes shyly. Wilbur could only smile at you as he pushed your hair out of your face to kiss your nose. 

      “Now tell me everything you know about Schlatt and his band of misfits.” 

---

The second time you snuck out with Tubbo was the day before Schlatt’s festival. Tubbo spent the entire day decorating for it and with your help, the both of you managed to get the decorations up in a timely manner. Sometime after the preparations were complete Tommy requested to meet up with Tubbo. Immediately you pleaded with Tubbo to let you go with him but he seemed very hesitant to let you join. He told you that the last time he visited Pogtopia Wilbur was acting very strange and he didn’t want you to get hurt by him in any form. You were flattered that you had him looking out for you but you assured him that Wilbur would never hurt you and that talking to you might be positive for his mental health. Tubbo gave you a tense smile and interlocked his hand with yours, 

      “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

      “I won't, I promise. Plus I’ll have you to protect me if anything goes wrong.” 

      “I appreciate that but I am very weak,” Tubbo sheepishly smiled scratching at his chin, his face turning slightly pink. You tossed your head back and laughed, as you squeezed his hand tightly, 

      “Okay, I’ll look out for both of us then.” 

You both had to sneak past an overzealous Fundy who wanted mother-son bonding time but eventually, you shook him off your scent and made your way into Pogtopia. Tubbo called out your arrival and once again Tommy beat Wilbur in greeting you at the entrance. You frowned seeing that he looked a little worse for wear, the bags under his eyes were darker and a clear indicator that he wasn’t sleeping very well. Your motherly instincts kicked in automatically at that moment as you cupped his cheeks in your hands. He made a groan of protest but didn’t pull away from the warm embrace of your hands. 

      “You look like you haven’t been sleeping, what’s been going on?” You asked and Tommy looked hesitant to tell you which worried you, even more, no one was giving you a straight answer but it all revolved around Wilbur. 

      “(Y/n)!” Wilbur called as Tommy opened his mouth to answer your question, “It’s so good to see you!” He grabbed you by the waist and drew you into a deep kiss, you couldn’t help but smile into it, you loved this man. “So much has happened, I can’t wait to catch you up. Come, come, let’s talk.” Wilbur led you down the long corridors of Pogtopia, from behind you both Tommy and Tubbo frowned in worry. 

      “Will she be alright?” Tubbo looked up at his tall friend, 

      “Obviously she's a badass.” Tommy scoffed but Tubbo knew him long enough to tell that he was just as worried about the girl as he was. 

      “I missed you, Wilby.” The soft tone in your voice seemed to make Wilbur melt into you, but there was something in his eyes that made you pause. You bit your lip as he placed his hand on your cheek, they were rougher than you remembered but then again it was to be expected. He also smelled like cigarette smoke and wood, the smoke was new and wasn’t necessarily too terrible. After all, you’ve dealt with Schlatt’s smell of alcohol and cigars for months at this point. 

      “I missed you too my darling, but things have been finally coming up Wilbur. It’s amazing and I know we didn’t get invited to the festival tomorrow but it doesn’t even matter.” Wilbur hummed stroking your cheek with his thumb, “Cause something is going to happen that’s going to change everything.” You tilted your head to the side in confusion, 

       “What do you mean? I mean shit Will I’m happy for you, I want the bastard out of power as soon as possible. He’s an absolute mess.” You gave an awkward laugh, “at this point Tubbo, Quackity and I are running things.” 

Wilbur didn’t seem to find that as funny as you did considering that his smile turned into a bitter frown, “He’s ruined everything I built, it’s disgusting.”

      “Shit.” You gave another uncomfortable laugh and crossed your arms, “I wouldn’t say he’s ruined everything. After all the country you built is still standing, right now it may have a different name but it’s still there, the people who love it are still there-”

      “Tommy and I aren’t.” He snarled at you and you flinched backward in response, you waited for an apology but you didn’t get one. “The people who loved it, who made it what it was aren’t there anymore. They didn’t care about it as I did. It’s MY country,” You glared at him and crossed your arms, your jaw was set in place. 

      “Excuse me?” 

      “You heard me.” 

       “Okay just making sure.” You wound your hand back and punched him in the stomach, not hard but just enough to stun him, “you son of a bitch! How DARE you insinuate that Tubbo and I don’t care about L’manberg as you and Tommy did. We all lost a life in the control room to Eret! We fought beside you against Dream for the revolution so the country you dreamed of could even come to fruition! We’ve done our best to keep everyone happy when everyone under Schlatt is fucking miserable and you know what we’ve done a damn good job of it! You’re insinuating that Niki and Fundy’s struggles have met nothing to you either, we’ve fought just as much as you have. This isn’t a competition.”

       “You’re wrong. It is a competition because it’s MY country!” He grabbed your shoulders, nails digging into the skin, you kissed your teeth in pain. You supposed the pain was justifiable considering you had just knocked him in the stomach. “MY country that isn’t MINE anymore, what’s the point in it even standing!” 

       “What…?” 

       “What’s the point in it even standing.” He smiled wickedly moving your hand to brush your hair out of your eyes, suddenly scarily gentle with you, “(Y/N) don’t you get it? The solution was right there the entire time. We blow it up!” 

       “WE WHAT?! Wilbur are you nuts! People live there, I live there! So does your son? If you blow it up Schlatt’s won!”

      “No, I win. We win.” He purred leaning close to rest his head against your own, “We can start a family afterward. You know my love like we always wanted...after everything after the smoke clears. We can be together-”

      “Wilbur.” 

      “We can kiss in the remnants of what once was. Then we rebuild something new, something grand-” 

      “No.” Your voice quivered in fear, “Wilbur that’s not what I want.” The smile was wiped off his face and his brows furrowed. 

      “Sorry? Come again?” 

      “I don’t want it to be gone. I want it as it was-”       “IT CAN NEVER BE WHAT IT WAS! CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT!” He slammed you up against the walls of the ravine, you let out a choking gasp as pain shot down the back of your skull and your spine. A brief glance of old Wilbur flitted across his face, he pulled away from you watching you sink down onto the floor. “I...darling I’m so sorry.” He whispered softly, his hands shaking at his sides, “I never meant to hurt you. Please know that. I’d never hurt you.” Wilbur reached his arm out and you flinched, a heartbroken look spread across his face. “Please...I can’t lose you-” He paused as you raised your hand in a stopping motion, 

      “Wilbur. You blow up that country, and we’re done.”

      “That’s not fair-”

      “Me or the country. Your choice.” You snarled, baring your teeth as you rose to your feet, “I love you. So fucking much but I won’t STAND being treated like I’m garbage.”

      “You’re not garbage. You’re not you’re my entire world. I-I’m doing this for you and for Fundy and for everyone-”

      “You’re doing this for yourself you prick!”

      “Am I interrupting something?” Tubbo murmured finally coming into the room, 

      “Yes-NO.” Both you and Wilbur said simultaneously, you both glared at one another as Tubbo’s ears flattened against his skull.

      “We have to go.” Tubbo spoke up, “Schlatt will get worried. Let’s go (Y/N).” 

      “We aren’t done- (Y/N) please.” Wilbur reached out to you and you shook his arm free from it. You glared back at him and walked past Tubbo, 

      “Let’s go. See you soon Wilbur.” With one last glance at Wilbur, Tubbo followed you out of Pogtopia. 

---

The third time you saw Wilbur was the day of the festival. Schlatt had tricked you all, Tubbo’s head was pressed against your chest as you both were trapped inside his execution box. He had found the both of you out and decided it was the perfect time to get his revenge for your treasonous acts. You were staring death straight in the eyes, and the almost hesitant eyes of Technoblade stared right back at you. 

      “I’m sorry. I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.” His smooth voice echoed through the chamber, Tubbo only clutched onto you harder. 

      “Technoblade please.” He tried to plead with the pigman, and Schlatt only cackled loudly in response. Technoblade closed his eyes and shot, you heard a loud snap of the crossbow and saw colors beyond your wildest imagination; in between the chaos you swore you saw a flash of Tommy and hear a cry from Wilbur. You woke up in bed, one single heart levitating above your chest, two cannon lives down, your ears were still ringing from the fireworks moments prior. ‘Tubbo…’ You thought squeezing your eyes tightly, ‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you…’ You tossed your legs over the side of the bed quickly tumbling out of it, Tubbo burst through your door moments later. Anxiety was written all over his face but even he knew now wasn’t the time to talk about your interconnected trauma. “We have to go. NOW.” Tubbo motioned to the door with his head, you stood up grabbing what you could momentarily, and ran. The both of you sprinted past a devastated looking Fundy, you made the mistake of looking behind you as he let out a soft, 

      “Mom?” 

You closed your eyes and turned away from the fox hybrid, not before mouthing an ‘I’m sorry,’ in his direction. Tubbo dragged you behind him all the way back to Pogtopia both of you eerily quiet the entire way. Entering the ravine the first thing you heard was Tommy’s ferocious yelling, Tubbo flinched a little and rushed away to comfort his friend the best he could. You noticed Wilbur was scarily silent, as you approached you saw how small his pupils were, the smile on his face was nothing less than mad. It turned your stomach but even so, you wanted comfort from someone you loved, you took his hand and squeezed. Still smiling he looked down at you and kissed the top of your head. It didn’t take a genius to understand he was oddly enthused with what went down between Schlatt, Tubbo and you, the man you once loved was gone.

      “My darling, I’m glad to see you’re alright.” 

      “Do whatever you want. Blow it up.” Your voice was icy and soft so only he could hear you, “Fuck it.” 

Wilbur’s smile widened and he kissed you passionately, he tasted like smoke and it was so overwhelming it burned your eyes and almost choked you. He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours,

      “You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say those words. You won’t regret this I promise.” He turned towards Tommy and the Blade with the damned smile still on his cheeks, you didn’t respond to him. You felt gross, this isn’t what you wanted, you only hoped when the time came you would convince him otherwise. He began to go on and on about a pit, and a fight between Technoblade and Tommy; supposedly in you and Tubbo’s honor. You watch the two climb into it, even though you knew Tommy was going to get his ass kicked you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Even when The Blade won and Tommy was getting patched up by Niki you could only stare at the flickering torches on the wall, the only person to be able to pull you out of your stupor was in fact, Tubbo. 

      “(Y/N) it’s gonna be alright. I promise.” You gave a tired nod, stroking his hair fondly he let out a soft whine. “You’re scaring me a little, I don’t like that you’re so silent.”

      “I know Tubbo. I know. Everything will work out one way or another. We just have to have hope.” You spoke, but your tone was anything but comforting, it was flat and it chilled Tubbo’s core. He wouldn’t let you turn out like Wilbur not if he had anything to say in the matter. 

---

It was finally the day of the Manburg vs Pogtopia war, surprisingly the rebellion had earned a lot more members than you had originally expected. Obviously, you had your core members, Technoblade, Tommy, Tubbo, Niki, and obviously Wilbur and you. However, it seemed Quackity was done with Schlatt’s bullshit just like everyone else, Fundy saw the error of his ways and fought by your and Wilbur’s side as did Eret. As everyone gathered around to discuss the plan, Fundy got your attention with a snap of his fingers, you blinked turning towards him. 

      “Hi, little champion...how’re you doing?” You smiled towards him ruffling his bright orange hair. He frowned swatting your hands away with a disgruntled huff, 

      “I’m alright. How’re you doing?” It seemed Tubbo wasn’t the only one worried about your mental health, Fundy’s frown only worsened. “My dad’s a dick.” 

      “Fundy-”

      “No. No, he is and you know it. He’s changed (Y/N), don’t follow him down that path...please. I need you. I can’t lose you too...” Your eyebrows furrowed and you smiled sadly, his words touched your heart and you felt nothing but fondness for the young man. You reached out and cupped his cheek with your hand, his eyes lit up and he nuzzled into it almost desperately. 

       “You haven’t lost me yet and you won't lose me today.” You assured and he let out a soft breath of relief, “I’m going to do all I can to save your father. I know he can bounce back from this, but if I can’t.” A watery look came across your face and Fundy kissed your forehead quickly,

      “I’ll be there to help pick you back up. So will Tubbo we all love you.” 

      “Thank you little champion.” You spoke, a smile spreading across your lips, his tail began to wag insanely fast. “You stay safe today too, I don’t want to see you hurt or worse.”

      “I will. Now come on Technoblade apparently has something to show us.” Fundy hummed holding out his arm for you to take, you did so joining the others. Once you all were gathered Technoblade led everyone to what he called ‘the vault,’ and the vault it certainly was. Everyone was equally as shocked at the sheer amount of gear The Blade managed to gather in such a short amount of time. There were Netherite weapons and armor and in almost every chest were potions and bows for the entire milita. Everyone made a mad dash towards the chests gathering whatever artillery they could find, and taking it for themselves. You made sure all the kids and Fundy were suited up and geared properly before taking what you could for yourself, there was some Netherite left which you applied to your body, you also grabbed an ax and a crossbow of your own. You glanced over at Wilbur and saw him bare, no weapon or armor insight, you furrowed your brow in concern and shook his arm gently. He glanced over you with a hint of the tender expression he used to always look at you with, it made your heartbreak. 

      “Wilby?” 

      “Hm?” 

      “No armor?” You questioned and he brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face. 

      “No. I won’t need it,” Wilbur hummed as you gave a disbelieving scoff. He chuckled a little at your disbelief and nudged your shoulder, “Trust me. Everything’s going to work out.”

You could only nod your head in understanding even if you truly did not understand his reasoning. The battle was long and bloody, tearing apart Schlatt’s allies was no easy task but Pogtopia managed to get them to surrender. You couldn’t help but be hesitant and suspicious, it wasn’t like Dream to just call off his forces and surrender so easily. You’ve fought against him enough times now to know that, yet Wilbur seemed unperturbed. Even when you all had Schlatt cornered Wilbur only seemed to get a little bit of glee from it, only seeming to feel more when the old ram had a heart attack and keeled over. You all had won but you didn’t feel good. You didn’t feel like it was over, not even when Wilbur took your hands and kissed them lightly on top of the podium beside Tommy and him. It did come as a surprise to you when Wilbur gave up power in favor of handing it off to Tommy, then Tommy gave it up for Tubbo, Tubbo began to give a nervous speech and you couldn’t help but be proud of him. Tubbo would make a great president much better than Schlatt ever was and maybe even better than Wilbur. Tubbo was warm and compassionate he might not even need your assistance as the first lady, honestly, you didn’t even know if you wanted the title again. Although any thoughts of happiness were wiped away as your stomach churned seeing Wilbur sneak away from the crowd, that wasn’t good. 

You followed behind your boyfriend on high alert, it’s not that you didn’t trust him, it was just that he was clinically insane. Eventually, Wilbur entered a small room that was cold and dark, you took a deep breath before stepping inside behind him. Your eyes widened in absolute horror, nonsensical scribbles were all over the walls and in the middle of the room sat a familiar button, chills rocketed down your spine. The setup of the room was an all too familiar sight, Eret’s words echoed through your mind and you felt the burn of betrayal run hot. Wilbur’s hands hovered over the button with a longing smile, caressing it like it was the face of his lover. You reached your arm out to call to him but felt a tight hand come around your waist, 

      “What’re you doing?” 

Shock flooded through your system as you looked up at the man touching you. It was Phil, Wilbur’s father, you had only met the man briefly a few times so you both had knowledge of one another's existence. 

      “Phil?” Wilbur turned around his jaw clenching, “(Y/N)? Shit,” He let out a disbelieving laugh. “You're both trying to gang up on me, that’s just unfair.” He leaned his head back, his beautiful curls falling around his face as he stared at the ceiling. “Do you know what this button is?”

      “Uh-huh. I do.” Phil gruffly stated his big grey wings curling around you protectively. 

      “Have you heard... the song? On the walls? Before? Have you heard the song? I was just saying, I made this big point, it was poignant, and it's um... There was a special place where men could go, but it's not there anymore y'know, it's not-” Wilbur let out a frustrated sigh punching the wall right next to the button. You jumped a little as Phil cut in, 

      “It is there. You've just- You've just won it back, Wil!” 

      “Phil’s right! Wilbur, we did it together, we don’t need to blow it up anymore! We can be happy!” 

      “(Y/N), PHIL, I'M ALWAYS SO CLOSE to pressing this button, Phil! I've BEEN HERE like seven or eight times, I've been here seven or eight times...Phil, I've been here so many times…” All of you jumped a little at the sound of crackling fireworks outside, your body went numb as you remembered the execution, “They're fighting. They're fighting!” Phil and you glanced at one another, there was a beat of silence. 

      “And you want to just blow it all up.”

       “I do,-” Wilbur started before letting out a frustrated sigh, “I think, I-”

       “You fought so hard to get this land back... So hard.”

       “We all did Wilby. Please listen to us.” You pleaded and he flinched at your tone, it was so tender and loving. He didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve your forgiveness. 

        “I don't even know if it works anymore, Phil, I don't even know if the button works, I could, I could... press it.” 

       “Do you really wanna take that risk?” Phil laughed, “There is a lot of TNT potentially connected to that button.” 

       “Phil... There was a saying, Phil. By a traitor. Once part of L'Manburg. A traitor- I don't know if you've heard of Eret? He had a saying...” 

        “Yeah.”

       “Wilbur. Don’t please.” You let out a frustrated cry stepping forward in front of Phil, “I know what you’re about to do. This isn’t you.” He looked at you with such pity he cupped your cheek with your hand, staring dead in your eyes, 

       “It was never meant to be!” He tossed his hand back and slammed it against the button, you let out a loud cry as explosions fired all around you. Wilbur pulled you close to protect you from any stray debris, he let out a roaring cry “MY L'MANBURG, PHIL! MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY, FOREVER UNFINISHED! IF I CAN'T HAVE THIS, NO-ONE CAN, PHIL!”

      “Oh, my god…” Phil spoke, his voice quivering with horror, Wilbur looked down at you and he captured your lips with his own. Once again he tasted like cigarettes, but there was a hint of warm honey and coffee...a hint of old Wilbur. He murmured a gentle, ‘I love you’ before pushing you away from him and onto the floor. He turned to Phil letting out a loud declaration, 

      “Kill me, Phil. Phil, kill me, Phil kill me! (Wilbur throws Phil his sword) Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now, kill me! Killza, Killza, do it! Kill me, Phil! Murder me! Look, they all want you to! Do it, Phil! Kill me! Phil, kill me!”

      “I- You're my SON!”

      “Wilbur NO! PHIL DON’T!”

     “Shut up (Y/N). PHIL, KILL ME!”

      “No matter what you- dude, no matter what you've done, I can't-”

 Wilbur slammed his fist against the wall, “Phil, it's- LOOK! LOOK! HOW MUCH WORK WENT INTO THIS, and it's GONE!” A loud pause echoed as Wilbur shoved his sword into Phil’s hand holding it to his chest. “Do it. Do it.”

       “PHIL DON’T.” 

The man ignored you running his sword through his son's chest. Wilbur choked blood staining the front of his shirt before spilling out of his mouth and down his chin. He looked over at you and reached his arm out in your direction. ‘Watch out for Fundy,’ He mouthed before smiling at you, the look would always be ingrained in your memory, the smiling face of Wilbur Soot the love of your life, as the light left his eyes. 

      “God! You couldn't just let- You couldn't just win! You couldn't- You had to just throw your toys out the pram!” He snarled through tears of his own cradling his son's lifeless body. You crawled over and gently put your hand on Phil’s shoulder, he turned and pressed his head into your chest. The father of the man you loved mourned beside you, not sure what was next for you but both were in agreement that this country changed Wilbur for the worst. It caused him to blow up a nation, hurt his loved ones, something he never would’ve dreamed of doing when he was young. It twisted his mind making him forget what was important to him, you’d never step foot in this crater again. 

---

We’re back BITCHES! This is the second part out of I think I’ve decided 3 parts, thank you so much for waiting and being patient. I hope it was worth it! Stay healthy and safe little spirits! @blossom-702 and @mayempress

[ilovefandoms102]

The Worst Vacation

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend surprises you on your vacation with your work friends...

Note: Inspired by my trip to AZ which was terrible so this is kind of based off real events that happened to me but dramatized for the story, and of course inserting my baby daddy Drew😛.

Click here to be apart of my taglist

=====================================

Life works in funny ways…

I never expected to find the love of my life a little over a year ago. Drew came unexpectedly into my life and we instantly had a connection. I know, I know...sounds extremely cliche, but it’s the truth.

Although our relationship was mostly long distance, we made it work. Sure it was really hard sometimes not having him around, but once I graduated from college we planned on moving in together. It might seem a bit fast since we have only been together a year, but I’m ready and I know Drew’s the one I want to spend forever with.

=====================================

I go on vacation with a girl I work with every year, Sally, since I started working with her two years ago. This year, we chose to go to Arizona. I was super excited because we had also planned on going to Las Vegas and Los Angeles.

Drew was extremely supportive and was happy that I was getting the opportunity to travel. I was hesitant with wanting to go at first because I had wanted to save up enough money to visit Drew while he was filming.

However, we both agreed his schedule was too hectic at the time and that we wouldn’t be able to properly spend time with each other. We were both disappointed, but still I was excited to go with my friend.

Or so I thought…

The trip was slowly turning into a disaster, everything that could have gone wrong did. My friend had brought along her niece, Caroline, which I didn’t mind despite not knowing her very well. It felt like the trip was mainly focused on them and I was just there to be the chauffeur.

I called Drew the first three nights of my stay crying because they were so awful to me. Drew being the sweet man he is offered to pay for a flight home, but I declined. I already had spent too much money to not finish out the trip.

“But sweetheart, if you’re not having a good time there’s no point in being there.” Drew pressed, his handsome face lighting up my phone screen.

“I know honey, but I’ve already spent a thousand dollars for this trip. I can’t just come home and leave them here.” I sighed, snuggling further into what would be my bed for another 10 dreadful days.

“I’ll give you the money back angel, I just don’t want you to be miserable when this is supposed to be a relaxing trip.” Drew insisted.

“I’m not taking your money Drew you spoil me enough.” I smiled, wishing more than anything he was lying here with me so I could kiss his cute face.

“I always want to spoil you baby, you mean the world to me.” he professed, grinning widely afterwards.

“I miss you so much,” I whispered, my heart aching to feel his strong arms around me.

“I miss you more,” he whispered back, pouting his lips slightly.

We talked until one of us fell asleep only to call back the next morning. My friends even had the nerve to comment on how much I talked to him.

“It’s a little obsessive...I mean you guys have been together for what a year?” Sally condescended, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Yeah? So what?” I questioned, the annoyance clear in my tone.

“I’m just saying it’s weird.” she scoffed, crossing her arms behind her head as we laid out in the sun by our pool.

“It’s weird for me to talk to my boyfriend?” I asked, making sure I was extra sarcastic.

“Every second of the day...yeah.” she chuckled, making my blood boil even higher.

I chose to be the bigger person however, and just kept to myself.

=====================================

The 5th day of my vacation, I hadn’t heard from Drew the whole day. It worried me, but I was also thinking about what Sally said. Maybe I was being clingy…

A knock on the door startled me from my thoughts. I thought maybe one of the girls had ordered food or something, so I opened the door and my mouth dropped open.

“Hi baby,” Drew greeted, my eyes watering from pure joy.

“Drew! What are you doing here?!” I asked excitedly, throwing myself in his arms.

“I came to see my baby,” he mumbled into my cheek, placing a gentle kiss on the red skin from being in the sun.

“Are you actually fucking kidding me?!” Sally exclaimed from behind us.

“Well nice to meet you too.” Drew mumbled sarcastically while letting go of me but not completely.

“Chill Sally, he’s just here a few days.” I huffed, rolling my eyes as I turned to face her.

“This is supposed to be OUR vacation!” She reiterated, throwing her arms out.

“It still is our vacation,” I emphasized.

“Not when you’ll be all over your boyfriend!” she shouted.

“I barely get to see him as it is Sal, you know that.” I said softly, trying to gain an empathy pass so she would just leave me alone.

“Whatever,” she sighed, clearly irritated as she stomped off.

I paid her no mind since she threw fits all the time like this. I pulled Drew to the room I was staying in, slamming the door shut. Drew threw his stuff by mine, then smirked at me and tackled me on the bed. I let out a little squeal, beaming up at the handsome man that I got to call mine.

“I’m so happy now,” I confessed, biting down on my lip to try and keep my tears in.

“Me too my love,” Drew whispered, sealing our lips for the first real kiss we had shared in a long time.

=====================================

Today was the day we were taking a drive to Las Vegas, which I was very very excited for. It was a nice change to wake up to soft kisses instead of Sally barging in here and demanding I wake up.

“Good morning beautiful,” Drew murmured in his deep morning voice, his kisses continuing their loving assault.

“This is a very nice wake up,” I giggled, snuggling further into him.

Drew hummed in agreement against the skin of my neck, his slight stubble tickling the delicate area. His large hands felt up the curve of my hips, taking my(his) shirt with them.

Drew had always claimed since we started dating that he was obsessed with the wide curves that I hated more than anything. He even said he loved how thick my thighs were, which I never thought in a million years I’d hear come from a man’s mouth.

“I love you, my girl. ” he whispered, my heart fluttering in my chest.

“I love you, my man.” I whispered back.

Our moment was rudely interrupted when Sally banged on the door saying we needed to hurry up. I couldn’t control my eyes from rolling in annoyance as Drew and I untangled from each other. We got ready quickly before making our way to the car to start the four hour trip.

=====================================

The drive was smooth sailing, Drew and I taking turns driving while Sally pouted about having to sit in the back. My hand clenched Drew’s tightly at her sly comments. Luckily, Drew wasn’t having it with her since he knew I wouldn't say anything.

“So this is the guy you’ve been obsessing over for the past year?” she asked snootily, knowing it would irritate me.

“I think it’s more like I’m obsessed with her.” Drew spoke up, squeezing my hand before smiling at me.

“Really? She never shuts up about you.” Sally retorted, raising a challenging brow at him.

“Well, I’m glad because I’m the same way with my friends, they love her.” Drew chuckled, but I could tell he was just as irritated as I was.

We stopped to get gas thankfully or otherwise I would have exploded. I stomped inside to the restrooms, slamming the stall door shut.

I got in the drivers side after I came out, Drew waiting by the door to open it for me. I smiled small at him, getting on my tipey toes to kiss him quickly before getting in.

We finally had made it, but things were not looking good. I had accidentally ended up in the old part of Vegas instead of the main strip, and Sally blew up on me.

“How can you be so fucking stupid is it really that hard to type shit in on a map?!” she screeched.

“It’s not that big of a deal, we're not far,” Caroline commented, annoyed with her aunt's attitude.

“God this is a fucking disaster I don’t even want to be here anymore!” she shouted, my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. Drew sat in silence, not sure what to do to diffuse the tension.

“God will you just shut up! I don’t know where every fucking place is in the world! This is my first time here just as it is yours, now just shut the hell up and let me concentrate!” I finally snapped, angrily typing on my phone to figure out where we needed to be.

I found where Caesar’s Palace was located, and they just so happened to have free parking as well. I slammed the gas and took us there. Drew and I got out of the car, but Sally and Caroline didn’t budge.

A few minutes later, Caroline storms out of the car slamming the door as hard as she could. She rushed past Drew and I, heading towards the exit.

“I’m sorry y/n, I hate that she treats you like that.” Caroline spoke up once we exited the parking garage.

“I’m used to it, she talks to me like that at work too.” I confessed, Drew whipping his head towards me.

“Y-You never told me that…” he murmured, looking down at me with an almost hurt expression.

I shook my head at him, signaling now was not the time.

=====================================

Sally threw her tantrum, then met us in the Bellagio. We sort of made up, but I did it merely so the rest of the day wasn’t awkward. Drew was quiet, probably still a bit upset with me.

We toured the hotel, the decorative flowers and artistry truly breathtaking. We ended up in front of Hell’s Kitchen where we would be eating later tonight. Drew and I took some pictures together to post on our stories while Sally and Caroline walked towards Caesar’s Palace.

“I wish you’d let me say something,” Drew blurted, sitting on one of the steps with me standing between his legs.

“No Drew, it will just make things worse.” I sighed, leaning into him.

“She’s so mean to you my love, I don’t like it.” he stated, his arms coming around me.

“I’ll be ok baby,” I mumbled, playing with his hair while smiling down at him.

“How about...you and I sneak away.” Drew suggested, tapping his fingers on my hips.

“Then they’d really be pissed,” I chuckled.

“We can just say we got lost.” he shrugged.

“Why do I feel like you’re up to something Starkey?” I questioned, raising my brow at him.

“I may or may not have booked us a room for today.” he grinned slyly, suddenly pulling me tight against him.

“To cuddle?” I teased, smirking as I ran my hands up his chest to the hairs at the back of his neck.

“Well yes...but also to fuck.” Drew said bluntly, smiling as I gasped at him.

“Joseph Starkey!” I exclaimed, giggling as my cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

“Baby come on it’s been sooooo long, my balls are aching.” he whined, cupping his hand over his manhood.

“Awwww are they? My poor baby boy.” I pouted, rubbing his cheeks with my thumbs.

He nodded, his lips pouting out as well. I couldn’t help the smile widening on my face, his cute pout making my insides melt.

“Let’s go then Drewbear,” I giggled, pulling his arms to stand up.

=====================================

We quickly checked in, rushing up to the room. I didn’t have time to appreciate the beauty of the room, Drew immediately spinning me around and lifting me into his arms. Drew laid us down on the bed, my phone rang out, no doubt one of the girls calling.

“Drew, I-I should get that.” I panted, his kisses moving down my neck. I felt his hand snake down my body, reaching into my pocket to take out my phone.

“They’ll be fine without us,” Drew smirked, lifting up and silencing my phone.

“Drew I should at least text the-” I started, but stopped talking when Drew took his shirt off.

“Sorry baby, were you saying something?” he asked rhetorically, smirking at my staring eyes. I shook my head, my eyes traveling down his toned form.

Drew stared down at me, his gaze sending chills down my spine. His hands traveled from my knees, down my thighs, up until they reached the bottom of my shirt. His eyes flickered to mine, and I nodded my head. Drew’s hands went under my shirt, my breath hitching in my throat.

I lifted my hands, sitting up a little so Drew could take my shirt off. He tossed it to the ground with his, while he did that, I unhooked my bra and threw it in the same direction before laying back down. Drew’s hands ventured towards my breasts as his lips explored the skin of my collarbones, lightly nipping at the area. I couldn’t contain the moan that escaped when Drew lightly rolled my nipples between his fingers,

“Fuck,” I whispered, my nails lightly digging into his scalp as I tugged on his hair.

Drew wasted no time in getting to where he really wants. He shoved off both our pants and underwear, situating me just how he likes before he buried his face in me. His tongue worked wonders, licking and sucking on each spot that made me tick.

“Oh my, baby please don’t stop.” I begged, my back arching slightly off the bed as my legs started enclosing towards his head. Drew lifted his head momentarily to stick two of his fingers in gently, my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

“My girl has such a pretty pussy.” he commented, his breath ghosting over where his tongue had just been.

I moaned loudly at his praise, gripping the sheets between my fingers as I felt my orgasm just in reach. Drew smiled as his mouth went back to work, his fingers increasing their pace as well. I could feel the band about to snap, my legs shaking the closer I got. With just the slight curl of his fingers, the flick of his tongue, and I was done for.

“I’m-” I gasped, not finishing my sentence as my orgasm hit me like a freight train.

“Mmmmm fuck yes baby,” Drew groaned, working me through it as he watched the cum drip from his fingers and onto the bed sheets.

Drew took his fingers from me, sliding them in his mouth to suck them clean. My stomach fluttered watching him, it was the hottest thing I had ever seen him do. He then grabbed my hips and flipped us over so I was on top, my head spinning a bit from the quickness of his movements.

“My turn princess,” Drew smiled, kissing my lips hotly before lying back down.

I smirked down at him, kissing my way down his body. I got to his vline, leaving my mark down it until I got to his dick. I licked from his balls to the tip, squealing lightly when his hand was suddenly in my hair. His chest was moving at a rapid pace, his eyes burning into mine as I took him in my mouth.

“I missed your mouth so much my love, fuck it’s so good.” he moaned, throwing his head back.

I moved my head up and down, using my hands to meet my mouth with what I couldn’t fit in my mouth. His grip on my hair tightened, pushing my head slightly. I gagged once I got to the base, taking a deep breath as my eyes watered.

“I’m gonna cum,” Drew panted, thrusting his hips into my mouth as I sucked harder. I pulled all the way up, sucking on his tip and flicking my tongue as fast as I could. He moaned as he came, spurting his seed into my mouth.

“Let me see, did you swallow it all my good girl?” Drew asked, pulling my hair so my mouth was removed from him.

“Mhm,” I hummed as I showed him my tongue that was clean.

Drew smiled at me, moving his hold to either side of my face and smashing my mouth to his. I held his wrists, moaning softly into his mouth as I shuffled closer.

“Come on beautiful, I want to see you on top.” Drew whispered, helping me straddle his waist and inserting himself inside me.

“Oh my god, Drew.” I groaned, digging my nails into his shoulders.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good.” Drew grinned, helping me move on top of him.

I rolled my hips into his, the tip of his cock hitting my gspot which had me a moaning mess. Drew slid a hand down so his thumb rubbed against my clit, a high pitched whine flying from my lips as I moved faster.

“I could live in your pussy,” Drew moaned, his thumb pressing harder.

“Drew,” I pleaded, throwing my head back before coming back to stare into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Would you like that baby? To sit on my cock all day?” he growled, thrusting his hips upwards to meet mine as I came down.

“Yes, I would love it.” I whimpered.

“I can feel how close you are my love, cum with me.” he demanded, but I was already there before he finished his sentence.

“F-uck baby,” I squeaked, my body going to cloud nine as I shook on top of him.

Drew came seconds later, burying himself inside of me. I laid my head on his shoulder, ran out of energy to keep myself upwards.Drew held me to him, laying back on the bed as we calmed down.

“Ok?” he asked.

“Amazing,” I answered.

=====================================

After we met up with Sally and Caroline, explaining how ‘lost’ we were, we ate dinner at Hell’s Kitchen. It was amazing, but definitely not worth the price. We walked around a few more shops in Caesar’s Palace, actually getting lost and taking a while to find the way out.

Once we did, we came across a group of men walking by…

“Damn she thicc,” one commented.

“Ooooh she got a nice one, hello!” another yelled.

Drew turned around to say something, but I yanked his hand to keep walking.

“Do not,” I hissed.

Drew instead to make it clear I was taken, placed his hand directly on my ass.

“Drew! We’re in public!” I whisper yelled, but he made no move to remove his hand.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he shrugged.

“Hey baby! Why don’t you leave your pretty boy to be with a man for a night!” someone else called, Drew’s eyes narrowing.

I was suddenly airborne, Drew bending down and lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist, surprised to say the least.

“Drew! Put me down!” I yelped, holding on to his shoulders.

“Apparently, these boys need to know you’re taken.” Drew snapped, tightening his grip on me.

“Seriously babe, you’re gonna hurt your back.” I mumbled.

“Didn’t you say your feet were hurting babydoll?” he questioned.

“Yes, but Drew-” I started.

“You’re light as a feather my love, I could carry you all day.” he spoke softly, kissing my nose before coming to a stop in front of the water show between Caesar’s Palace and the Bellagio. He sat me on the railing, standing between my legs with his hands placed on my hips. I kissed his cheek, smiling at how sweet and protective this man of mine was.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you baby,” he whispered back, sealing the deal with a soft kiss as the water show ended.

=====================================

Taglist:

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[tiredpjofan]

Just gonna share my opinion for a bit:

So, I haven't really seen a lot of good written jealous!Triton fics and before you ask, nope. I'm not those type of toxic fans. In my opinion it kinda makes sense for Triton to be a bit jealous of Percy, cause not only is he a living legend. He's also the favorite child of his dad, and they don't even share the same blood!

That must felt like hell, cause sometimes I get jealous of my own brother when he gets, like, 95 on his math test or when my mom compliments his cooking. And when I do find a jealous!Triton fic, they write it really....really corny it makes it really hard to enjoy.

So, what are your opinions about Triton and Percy? Do you want them to get along? Or do you want them to have a bit of sibling rivalry for a few moments? Cause I do. Lol.

I really do wish they get along in cannon buuuut.... I kinda understand Triton's side a bit. Still though, they would've had such an adorable brotherly relationship (:

this ask made me realise how little triton is featured in the fics i read! but now you've got me thinking about it, sooooo

i think it goes without saying that some tension on triton’s part is heavily expected. not only has poseidon broken a pact to not have anymore demigod children (which is bad enough in itself), he did so by cheating on tritons mother who triton no doubt has a great deal of loyalty towards.

ALSO, poseidon doesn’t sweep this affair under the rug and move on. NOPE. he offers sally a palace under the sea and publicly recognises percy as his son (even if it does take 12 years). but maybe this would have been ok, there would have been more anger directed towards sally than percy (poseidon is a very powerful god to get angry with, so no anger would be directed there).

but then, it is revealed that percy is the child of the prophecy. he saves olympus (twice, depending on where in the timeline we are) and poseidon refers to him as his favourite son (i think -- it’s been a while since i've read the go series). triton would hate the fact that percy didn’t just keep his head down and not draw attention to himself and the affair.

and on the flip side, percy is incredibly laid-back when it comes to insults about himself. so the first confrontation. between the two would be very one-sided. however, triton would be obsessed with finding his breaking point and would inevitably bring up sally. and there is no quicker way to get percy angry than to insult someone he loves -- especially his mother.

so, yeah. that to me is the most realistic relationship between the two.

...but

that's no fun. so imagine that triton goes to therapy or something and finds a healthier coping mechanism than taking out his anger on an innocent demigod and instead begins to feel somewhat protective over that demigod. maybe he starts to protect percy in dire situations and they might get to talking. eventually, triton just might find other excuses to hang out with his favourite annoying brother.

triton: as your self-appointment protector, i must insist that i trial this for you in order to ascertain that it will not cause you injury. it is my duty to ensure your safety at all possible times and i--

percy: bro, if you want to play video games with me, you just have to ask.

and from there it would evolve into percy taking full advantage of this new ally in the form of a protective older brother

percy: dude, you can't kill me. triton would get mad.

monster: who--

triton, appearing behind the monster and killing it: triton would get mad.

...in more ways than one

triton, appearing in a blaze of glory with his weapons ready: where are the monsters!? i heard your call of distress and i am here to fight with you and gut any monsters stupid enough to even look at you too long!

percy, panicking while holding up two t-shirts: i'm meeting Annabeth in 10 minutes and i don't know what to wear!

triton: ...wear the green one. it brings out your eyes.

and returning the favour when he can

poseidon: triton, where were you last night? as my heir, I expect you to fullfill certain expectations required of you.

percy, appearing out of nowhere: he was with me.

poseidon: what.

percy, lying through his teeth: we were rescuing baby sea lions.

triton, also lying through his teeth: and picking rubbish off the sea floor.

poseidon, fully aware that they are lying through their teeth: ...right.

but there's always that certain tension between siblings, even ones with godly dna

triton: i can't believe that you’re father’s favourite. have i not been a faithful heir, always doing what he commands of me? what do you have that i don't?

percy, tired of hearing this speech for the 50th time: i don't know, maybe he just prefers my father’s day gifts over yours.

triton: ...your what.

meanwhile...

random sea creature: who’s your favourite child--

poseidon, with no hesitation: tyson.

tyson: :)

[bored-storyteller]

Oh my, thank you!  Thanks for bringing this to me, I love Sally Face! It's one of my favorite indie games ever! I really hope it meets your expectations.

NOTES: I imagined the more adult Sal, but beyond that there are no other references to the timeline of the original story, except some canonical episodes mentioned.

34- Sally Face - Sal Fisher x Reader

"You can see me"

With a last glance at the clock, you quickly close the water bottle, at the same time grabbing the full glass in the same hand that you also hold the medicine box.

You're pretty sure you find Sal in his room, probably bent over his guitar. Surely it is for that reason that he has not paid attention to his therapy.

It doesn't happen often, in fact, it rarely happens that you have to rush to his rescue, nor do you really like doing it. You don't know how he really feels about it.

Knowing where he keeps his medicines and knowing when he has to take them doesn't make you two a couple. Not even living under the same roof makes you a couple - especially if you are not alone - nor does sharing the same room often and willingly.

In fact, even though someone often mistakes you for two young lovers, you don't really know what Sal thinks of you. As close as you feel him, you are not sure that he feels as close to you; on the other hand, he doesn't seem to share the same kind of intimacy with you that he shares with Larry or Ashley, or at least that's what you think.

Besides, you've never seen his face.

Yours is a purely selfish thought, and you are ashamed of it, but you cannot command feelings.

You know that the first time Larry saw his best friend's face was an accident, with Ash instead, she was the one who took the initiative. In neither case was Sal's will to make him show himself. Yet, despite this deep down, inside you, something stung excruciatingly.

When your friend had lifted his mask, Sal that time was not angry at the intrusiveness - as perhaps you would have done -, nor had he tried to escape later. It is logically normal that he now has less trouble showing himself around them. Sweet Sal, always so loving, so perfect.

You shouldn't feel offended. You know well that for Sal the prosthesis he wears is in effect his face, so it's not that he wants to hide from you, you are simply already seeing him.

Yet you know that under that face another is hidden, however much it may be disfigured. You can't pretend it isn't.

That slight annoyance you have repeatedly tried to ignore has slowly grown, but only now have you dared to call it by name. Because you like Sal. You really like him. And when you have understood this, when you have found the strength to admit it to yourself, everything is put in the right place; the joys, the jealousies you felt and feel… and also that desire to see him, to see beyond, to really see him.

But you'll never force on him for it. As simple as it would be to lift that mask to him with an excuse, you will never force him to show himself to you, even if you die with the regret of never having seen him. It's not the same, it's not the face you want to see, it's the trust you want him to give you. But you can't expect it, and you know it.

You could live with this obsession that has become so present in recent weeks that you can hardly forget it. Maybe it's just your mind that doesn't want to focus on your duties, and then it always wanders to him, aimlessly.

"What is Sal's face like?"

You asked Larry one day without realizing it. You didn't really know what you were doing with him, you just know that for a moment your brain was shut down, and when you woke up you whispered that question.

The astonished look of your friend had poured into you a flood of emotions so sudden that they almost made you cry for no reason: you felt guilty, selfish, reckless, stupid, meddlesome and terribly fragile.

You immediately lowered your gaze to protect yourself, muttering an "sorry, forget it" but never would have canceled that damn question. You thought Larry might misjudge you for that, but instead his big hand pulled you to him, ruffling your hair affectionately, saying nothing.

He seemed to have understood more than you hoped for, yet ...

You shake your head and your hand tightens on the glass of water. You knock on the door and softly call Sal's name.

"Yes?"

His answer comes a few seconds later and you feel safe in opening the door slowly.

It's not exactly what you imagined; he is sitting on the bed, his legs stretched out on the mattress and his back resting against the headboard. The guitar is stored in the case, but in his hands he holds a book with a dark cover.

His kind gaze meets you beyond that face that is always the same. It's amazing how expressive that guy can be under that stiff mask. That damn mask. That lovely mask.

"You didn't take them, did you?"

You ask softly as you lift the medicines to show them. Your voice is cracked against your will, and you're praying he didn't notice.

"Oh ..." his eyes snap to the clock hanging on the wall "thanks, I was completely forgetting about it."

His voice is soft, almost cheerful. He is not bothered by your gesture, or he is very good at hiding it.

You watch him get up to go to the bedside table where you put what he needed. You don't pay much attention to it, you just sit on the bed, picking up the book he was reading, making sure you keep your thumb between the pages, so as not to lose the mark he left.

You read the title and a few lines of the presentation absently. You're just trying to buy time with him, and you know it.

You hear it as he handles the pill box and plastic, and hear the rattle of the straps as they unfasten to release his mouth.

You don't watch it, you're used to the process and now, despite you insisting on staying there, you don't really want to watch it.

You don't understand much about the book, you just know it's about music.

"Do you like it?"

You ask, trying to give a semblance of normality.

"Enough ... actually I'm just at the beginning."

You just nod, not really being able to continue the conversation. Your head feels too full confused, but extremely empty at the same time, and you don't know why.

"Hey ... is everything okay?"

His voice makes you jump, as if he has stung you with a needle. Such a simple question, but you suddenly feel discovered, as if he has just proved he can read your mind. As if you were obliged to tell him the truth.

"Yup!"

You exclaim immediately, and without realizing your head jerks towards him, as if you wanted to assure him of the truthfulness of your words.

You don't notice it right away. You see only his blue eyes for a moment, he is looking at you with concern, more than he should.

At first you wonder if your attitude really is that troubling, but then you start to focus.

His hand trembles slightly around the glass of water, and out of the corner of your eye you can see his mask lying on his pillow.

He swallows the medicine by throwing his head back slightly, perhaps to take a break from your gaze, or to escape a little from the agitation, the fear he is having.

Sal, Sal's face. You are seeing him, free from his hiding place, while he drinks.

Surely he is disfigured, excruciatingly deformed. It's not just a few scratches, it's more, it's a real pain, yet you don't notice it.

Again, this is Sal. You're really seeing Sal's face, the face you've always loved, beyond the mask, like his mask.

He sits next to you, he's trying to act naturally, you see him, but you still see his fingers shaking against the cardboard as he puts the tablet away in the box. He did it for you.

Emotions explode in your chest and you don't bother holding them back. There is no time for any misunderstandings. You are free with him, you always have been, you don't know how you forgot this.

"Sal ..."

You call him softly, and he turns to you despite the hesitation. A light "tell me" sweet and helpful pronounced by the spoiled and shy lips.

Silently, you curl up against him, your arms glide smoothly around his chest, expressing your need to feel him close.

He welcomes you - he always does.

"Hey ..." is a faint call of him, as you hide against his neck to prevent your happiness from going out too violently.

"Thanks..." This is all you can say in your voice damp with emotion. Long last. You are like a child in front of the much desired Christmas present. You are so happy that you could carry the whole world on your shoulders.

"Thank you!" You repeat him with more conviction, and finally your eyes return to his sky-colored gaze. So beautiful, always so loving even in his placid surprise.

He looks at your wet eyes, so wet with affection for him. Your smile is so warm and true, and his lungs slowly empty of all the accumulated tension.

He didn't think anyone could look at him that way, not without his mask. He did not think that a look could be so full of love in front of his disfigured face, yet it seems that you are seeing an angel.

You look at him with your eyes shining with all the admiration you feel, and not because you can lie by saying that you are seeing a beautiful face, but because Sal is the most beautiful person you know.

"I-" His voice tries to say something, but it is cut off; this time it's up to him to be overwhelmed by emotion.

You approach slowly, and the tip of your nose touches his, practically non-existent, but you don't care. You cannot resist the desire to cuddle him, to touch him, to perceive him in every possible aspect of that intimacy that he has decided to give you.

At first he has a little jerk back, of surprise rather than fear, and soon after he is there again, looking for that touch. He is extremely uncertain, but he still responds to your unspoken requests, slowly letting his forehead rest on yours.

He exhales, as if he is releasing a great weight, but he immediately stiffens when you, without realizing it, are approaching his lips.

You wake up immediately from your numbness, before making a probable mistake, and try to get away, at least as long as his arms allow you.

"Please…"

That prayer from him is so feeble yet so meaningful. His gaze asks you to do it, to continue, because he wants it but he is still afraid of taking the initiative. He is putting the responsibility on you, and rightly so.

He is tense, you see it from his swallow and feel it from his tense muscles around you, but it's okay.

You approach again, slowly, gradually lowering your eyelids, a little by instinct and a little in the hope of putting him more at ease.

Kissing him is a special experience, and you like it - you wanted it so much -.

You are not intrusive, it is just a delicate touch, but it persists, leaving him time for him.

When he reciprocates, he does it slowly, unsure of how to proceed, probably troubled by the feelings he can give you or maybe just agitated by the situation. Yet, slowly, you feel it melt against you.

Slightly open your eyes to see that he too has closed them, and then you allow yourself to return to enjoy that moment, more peaceful and serene.

You huddle more, between yourselves, and let the desire flow through you, without going too far, simply enjoying the presence of each other, in your breaths that merge.

When you separate you do it only with your lips, but your gaze remains affectionate and aware.

In the end, that is nothing more than the confirmation of everything: of your knowing what time he should take his medicines and of his letting you know, of his knowing your favorite drink and which shower gel you always use, of cooking one by one. other, of looking so much like a couple for a long time already - and some of it is also the result of Larry's long tongue letting out a few too many words with his best friend.

You watch him as he puts his mask back on, and now you don't care anymore, because you know what's under it, and if that's his face then you've seen his soul.

Suddenly all your happiness is back. You are so happy that not even the bickering between Larry and Todd coming from the kitchen can upset you.

It must be something about the finished milk.

"I'm going to get it!"

You hum loud enough for the two to hear it, as you jump three steps at the same time, happily landing down the stairs.

Sal's laughter reaches you, and you turn to look at him. You like to see him happy, whatever the nature of that happiness.

"I come with you."

He tells you coming to you, reaching out his hand so that you can take it.

You're pretty sure you won't be able to stop smiling all night long.

*The image above is an old drawing of mine

[pearsabeth]

The Folks - A Percabeth fic

"Annabeth, don't try to act like this is my fault"

Percy's amused tone earned him a glare from his girlfriend. They were waiting in the warm car, anticipating the cold air they would be met with outside and the reaction of the Chase family if they were to notice the red bruise adorning the side of Percy's neck.

"Of course it is, I could've planned all this if you hadn't been so..." Annabeth's eyes flickered as she recalled the making of the hickey that has decided to plague her life.

It was the mischief in his eyes taunting her to remove that trouble maker smirk playing on his swollen lips. Before she knew it her teeth were on his neck and all sense had disappeared. She hadn't thought about the scheduled dinner at her parents. She wasn't thinking at all.

"You know you can't just wait in the car and glare at the house until it disappears" Percy's voice comes from the driver's seat.

"I can try," she sighed.

Knowing perfectly well she had to go in soon and face Bobby and Matthew and their fascinating incapability of minding their business , Helen who's judgemental stare could burn a hole through the dark grey woollen scarf wrapped around Percy's neck and tucked under his thick winter coat and her Dad who would interrogate them until the truth came out.

"You'll be fine Wisegirl, nothing's gonna happen and if anything does we'll just play it cool. We're grown." Percy suggested, hands landing on her thigh to try and comfort her.

She faced him with an anxiety-stricken expression he hadn't been expecting. His eyebrows raised in realisation. There was always more to it when it came to Annabeth.

"They already hate me enough. I bet Helen's in there preparing a list of ways to criticize my life. As if bringing home a boy isn't enough, it just had to be a bruised necked pretty boy who doesn't study law at Harvard."

"I guess we don't care about my self-esteem today, huh," Percy feigned offence.

"C'mon Annabeth, we're gonna be late. You've got this. Besides, I'll be on my best behaviour," He couldn't help the lopsided grin that emerged on his face as he said it.

When it didn't look like she was getting up anytime soon, Percy got out of the car and practically dragged her out and onto the sheet of snow that had begun to cover the driveway. When they got to the porch, Annabeth fixed his thick scarf once more to cover the hickey and rang the doorbell hesitantly.

Percy attempted to offer his support by holding her hand and giving it a squeeze only for Annabeth to snap her hand out as she heard footsteps walking towards the door.

"You're crazy," Percy murmurs as he opted for the small of her back.

The door opened to reveal Annabeth's stepmother, wearing a clean apron over her clothes. Before the couple could exchange greetings with the woman, the sound of slapping feet against the wooden floors was followed by the eager faces of Annabeth's twin brothers, Bobby and Matthew.

"Annabeth, did you get the stuff?" Bobby said his eyebrows disappearing under the brown coils against his forehead.

Matthew, presumably the mature one of the two rolled his brown eyes, showing the little resemblance he and his brother shared with Annabeth. For the most part, the twins resembled their Filipina mother more so than their father and it showed in their soft eyes and thick dark hair. But they couldn't escape the splatter of freckles on their nose that seemed to be Chase family staple.

"You bet I got the stuff, help Helen set up and then we can do business," Annabeth said as she made her way towards the living room, Percy following her lead awkwardly.

Matthew looked at his brother smugly, " I told you it was too good to be true."

Before sulking off to the kitchen, the boys set aside their negotiation and finally got a glimpse of the infamous Percy Jackson. Annabeth had been talking their ears off about him ever since the summer the two met. They knew vaguely about the two being an item from Matthews tendency to pick up his parents' grown-up conversations because he was just quiet enough to go unnoticed as opposed to Bobby who always made his presence known even if he didn't mean to. It was almost never good stuff.

Percy almost took a step back despite himself against the scrutinising gaze of the twins. Seriously, where could he learn to do that? Maybe Annabeth's Dad held lessons.

"Percy Jackson?" Bobby questioned.

Percy had always been great with kids. Annabeth had joked about it saying that it was only because he was basically a child himself. But something about making a first impression on his girlfriend's brother's who looked like they had their fair share in troublesome behaviour made it a lot harder. Percy could blow up a few school busses by accident here and there but the twins looked as if they would not only commit vandalism to school property but also devise an intricate plan before doing so. He had to make the right impression, he could feel the pressure from Helen's silent gaze and Fredericks presence from somewhere in the large suburban home.

"Yeah, that's me, it's nice to finally meet you two." Percy scratched the back of his neck subconsciously and turned to Helen.

very cool of him

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs Chase." He hesitated before her name not wanting to call her Helen and rendering himself as even more disrespectful than the image of him that she probably had in her mind.

"Yes, I've heard a lot about you. Frederick will be down shortly," She gave Annabeth a side-eye before telling Bobby to go upstairs and call his father from the office.

The silence that followed was enough to send Percy's inattentive mind to the surroundings of the house. It was a pretty big house, nothing too fancy though. The walls were decorated with various family photos and plaques of both Helen and Frederick's degrees and academic achievements.

He noticed quickly that Annabeth memorabilia was lacking save for a picture of her beside the wall nearest to the staircase with a smile, her two front teeth missing and posing proudly in front of a lego block set. Percy couldn't help but take his phone out of his pocket and snap a photo of it.

He didn't call for the loud shutter that erupted the silence and he definitely wasn't expecting to see Frederick Chase's aloof yet somehow still disapproving face on his phone screen.

Annabeth stifled her chuckle with a cough and went forward to greet her dad.

"Hey, Dad."

She wasn't sure whether to hug him but it didn't seem like he was opening his arms in an inviting embrace so Annabeth settled for an awkward handshake.

"Annabeth, I hope the traffic wasn't too bad."

Annabeth shot Percy a look that seemed to say,

‘look at this oaf.’

Percy was new to paternal interactions as well, having only met his dad in this last quarter of his life. But Frederick Chase's actions confused him too. His daughter had fallen into Tartarus and saved the world, putting her life at risk for the second time in the span of a year and the first thing he does is make conversation on vehicular congestion?

Percy calmed his fury at the man as he approached. They had met once before but the middle of a battle determining the fate of the world wasn't exactly the ideal setting to exchange pleasantries. In the back of his mind, Percy hoped he wouldn't attempt to give him "the talk" because quite frankly he didn't have any right to tell Percy to take care of his daughter when he'd been failing to do so himself.

"Percy, It's good to see you again. I hear you two have been on quite the journey these past months." Frederick led them to the dining room, taking a seat at the head of the table

This time, it was Percy's turn to throw a meaningful glance Annabeth's way.

Does this man know nothing?

Annabeth returned it with a squeeze of his leg as if she were saying, hang in there.

Helen arrived with steaming plates and bowls of food and the twins weren't far behind her trying to speedily set the table.

Percy thanked Helen for the food and right before he was about to dig into the steaming plate, Annabeth's fears were confirmed.

"It's a little warm in here don't you think? Annabeth must've forgotten to show you but you can hang your coat and scarf behind the door." Frederick suggested.

Percy looked at Annabeth for help, only to see the blood already rushing to her cheeks, fear evident in her eyes.

" Uh- I can't," Percy said shortly.

"You can't?" Frederick's eyebrows raised in question.

"He has this condition, it's uh, what was it called again Percy?" Annabeth aided which must've been suspicious because it wasn't like Annabeth to forget things.

"Um-eczema, it's pretty bad."

"Yeah, wouldn't want flakes of skin falling into your soup or anything," Annabeth added helpfully with a small smile on her face at the twins' disgust.

"Well, sorry I asked then," Frederick said suspiciously but didn't comment on it anymore.

Helen was busy serving Bobby and Matthew, seemingly unaware of the conversation. Percy tapped his foot against Annabeth's shin under the table to get her attention. They were good now. Annabeth shook her head at Percy's gullibility, not buying for a minute that her parents had bought it. But they didn't push, so as far as Annabeth was concerned she was blushing because her boyfriend had a terrible case of eczema and not because she had sucked his neck.

The dinner was unbearable. The food itself was great but even good food couldn't scratch the itch Percy felt to do or say something. Compared to mealtimes at Camp Half-Blood, which were always loud and eventful or dinnertime with Sally who always had something to say whether it be an idea that popped up while writing her manuscript or the oddly dressed poodle she saw on the subway- this dinner was a bore.

It wasn't long before they had retired to the living room again to make more small talk that conveniently avoided the topic of the two falling into the pits of hell. Annabeth had finally given the twins an anticipated copy of a comic series they followed and they'd resided upstairs to read it, leaving the couple alone with Annabeth's parents. They endured until it seemed appropriate to leave.

They were so close. Oh so close to getting up and getting as far away from the dull monotonous voice of the news reporter on TV to the warmth of the car when the tense air was broken by a musical note on the tv claiming to be an emergency weather report.

A blizzard.

It had to be Zeus. It was barely snowing when they had arrived. Percy and Annabeth were stuck and at this moment he had empathised with the dread that encompassed Annabeth every time she had to go home for the summer. How could a house so big feel so claustrophobic and lonely at the same time? The twins were lucky they had each other. He couldn't imagine how Annabeth managed.

"I guess it's a sleepover," Matthew's voice came from the kitchen as he licked the mocha from above his upper lip before running back up the stairs to his brother.

***

Before Percy knew it, he was in the Chase family guest room. Annabeth had nothing to worry about since she had clothes to wear to bed. She had changed into loose purple sweat pants with a long sleeve shirt and had come out of her room to help pick up the assortment of toys that were scattered on the floor. If Percy had an extra room in his house as a child he would probably make it an unofficial playroom as well.

This was probably just as inconvenient for the Chases as it was for them. Percy remembered how his mom fluttered around the house cleaning every surface before the arrival of guests and he finally understood why she always insisted he clean his room even if no-one was entering. Just in case Zeus decided to create a blizzard and snow-in the poor unsuspecting guests.

Percy's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door to the guest room. He opened the door for Helen, who had arrived with a bundle of Frederick's clothes. She placed them in his hands and left abruptly before he could thank her as if she had forgotten something. Annabeth laughed softly at the thought of Percy wearing her dad's plaid pyjama's.

"You think this is funny Wisegirl?" Percy said with a smile spreading on his face as he took off his coat and shirt and buttoned up the plaid print flannel.

"It's quite comical," she said, shamelessly looking at Percy's exposed chest as he fixed the last few buttons.

Annabeth averted her gaze quickly to the action figure on the floor when Helen resurfaced with a small bag of toiletries for Percy.

"Your condition isn't so bad," Helen said to Percy. She glanced at Annabeth, a hint of a sly smile on her usually stoic face.

Annabeth looked between the two of them. Helens eyes and Percy's exposed neck, scarf abandoned. She couldn’t somehow manipulate the mist and make herself disappear. So she opted for the second-best thing.

"Goodnight, I'm gonna go to my room now." she rushed out the words and almost crashed into Helen on her way out.

It was Percy's turn to be flustered as he nervously scratched his neck, then quickly switched to his head not wanting to bring any more attention to the very blatant hickey.

"Towels are in that closet," Helen said finally and closed the door behind her.

Percy puts on the rest of the clothes with two thoughts in mind:

1) Annabeth's cute when she blushes.

2) I hate it here.

[knuffled]

just practice - chapter eleven

ao3 link

Ambrosia was Annabeth’s favorite coffee shop in the city. It was a quaint affair, tucked behind an alleyway, cozily decorated with clusters of polished cherry wood tables surrounded by plush purple chairs. There weren’t many drinks on the menu, but what the cafe lacked in quantity, it more than made up for with quality. Although she wasn’t a coffee connoisseur or anything, Annabeth could easily tell the coffee at Ambrosia tasted far richer than anything at Starbucks.

Annabeth drummed her fingers on her window-side table and twirled a strand of hair around her index finger, trying not to feel too nervous as she sipped her espresso. Inviting Reyna out for coffee so she could get relationship advice after turning her down a month prior was quite possibly one of the worst ideas she’d ever had. The thing was, she had no other options. All her friends were also friends with Percy, which made confiding in them impossible. She could only imagine the ensuing chaos if she were to come out and say that she had only pretending to go out with Percy.

Still, that didn’t make her feel any better about her current situation. In fact, Annabeth was nearly on the verge of sending her a text to cancel the whole thing under the pretense of not feeling well when Reyna walked into the cafe. She looked around until she spotted Annabeth and made her way over to the table, a dark look on her face.

“You sure picked an absolute bitch of a place to find,” Reyna said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Google Maps had a fucking aneurysm trying to give me directions.”

“Nice to see you again too,” Annabeth said, smiling despite herself.

Reyna rolled her eyes and plopped down in the seat opposite her. “This better be the best goddamn coffee I’ve had in my entire life,” she grumbled.

Annabeth slid her a menu and tried not to laugh at the disgruntled look that spread across Reyna’s face as she surveyed the prices. Annabeth raised her palms up in surrender when Reyna looked at her with an immaculately raised eyebrow.

“It’s worth it, I swear!” Annabeth promised.

Reyna pursed her lips and nodded in a clipped fashion before studying the menu again. After a few seconds, Reyna set the menu aside with a sigh and looked at Annabeth again, a tired look on her face.

“I have no idea what to get,” Reyna muttered. “What’s good here?”

Annabeth shrugged and said, “Pretty much everything. I really like their espressos, but their cappuccinos are great too.”

Reyna pulled a face before mumbling under her breath, “Hazelnut latte it is then.”

“Funny, I would have pegged you for a ‘black coffee’ kind of girl,” Annabeth said, grinning.

For the first since she’d met her, Reyna blushed and twirled a strand of dark hair around her finger, refusing to meet Annabeth’s eyes.

“I’m just bad with bitter stuff,” Reyna muttered.

“I had no idea your tastes were so basic,” Annabeth teased.

Reyna scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not basic.”

Hearing Reyna sound genuinely offended by the implication only made delighted Annabeth instead of deterring her.

“Uh huh, sure,” Annabeth drawled.

Reyna narrowed her eyes and said, “You’re on thin fucking ice, Chase.”

Annabeth held her palms up in surrender and tried to suppress the grin threatening to split across her face.

“Ok, sorry, I’ll stop,” Annabeth said. “Go treat yourself to a hazelnut latte.”

The glare Reyna gave her before she made her way to the front counter to order could have withered flowers with its intensity. Annabeth allowed herself to smile once Reyna left the table and noticed she felt significantly calmer than she had before Reyna’s arrival. Thankfully, it seemed that things weren’t awkward between them, despite the fact that she had rejected Reyna last time they’d spoken.

When Reyna returned with her drink, Annabeth watched with avid interest as she blew into the lid of the cup and took her hesitant sip. Her eyes widened in surprise momentarily before returning to normal, but it only made Annabeth’s smirk grow larger.

“So how’s your drink?” Annabeth asked innocently.

Reyna cleared her throat and said, “It’s passable.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “That’s high praise.”

Reyna’s lips quirked upwards in a smile. “Don’t be such an ass. It’s good, okay?”

“Worth the drive?”

“Hardly,” Reyna said, snorting.

“That’s a win in my book,” Annabeth said, shrugging.

Reyna scoffed and took another sip before saying, “So why did you call me out here today? I assume it wasn’t just to make fun of my choice of beverages.”

“Tempting but unfortunately not the case,” Annabeth said. “I wanted your advice on something.”

“About tall, dark, and handsome, you mean?”

Annabeth blinked. “What?”

Reyna rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about your ‘friend’, Percy.”

“Oh,” Annabeth said stupidly. “I uh- I just wasn’t expecting you to refer to him that way.”

“I may be gay, but I have eyes,” Reyna said, giving her a significant look.

Annabeth laughed despite herself. “Yeah, you’re right. I wanted to ask about Percy.”

“It’s kind of a dick move to ask someone you turned down for romantic advice,” Reyna noted.

“Sorry,” Annabeth said, looking down at her lap. “It’s just not something I can talk about with my other friends.”

“It’s whatever,” Reyna said, shrugging. “Besides, I can’t help respecting that you had the audacity to ask me anyways, so kudos to you. Now tell me what’s going on.”

Annabeth began telling Reyna everything that had happened since the school year began, starting with Clarisse’s comment and the fake dating proposal to Percy’s sudden penchant for speaking in riddles to the Kara incident to what Percy had said as they descended Aspen Peak and finally her conversation with Sally after Thanksgiving. It took her a little over a half hour to explain everything, which was longer than Annabeth had been expecting, but Reyna listened intently the entire time. On occasion, she would ask a clarifying question, but for the most part she was content to listen silently.

When Annabeth was done, Reyna said, “Well, I think I get the gist of the situation now. I’m just not sure what you need advice about.”

“I want to figure out what’s going on with Percy. I’ve given him enough time and space to come forward and talk to me on his own, but it’s clear that he’s not going to do that. Usually, I’d be fine with that, but I can’t help feeling like there’s something going on here, something I can’t just ignore,” Annabeth said.

Reyna snorted. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious that he’s just being emotionally constipated about his feelings like men always are when it comes to displaying anything more than the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

Annabeth shook her head. “Percy isn’t like that.”

Reyna raised an eyebrow and said, “No offense, but I find that hard to believe. Judging from your story just now, he is exactly like that.”

“Percy has no problem talking about emotions,” Annabeth argued. “Trust me, I’d know.”

“Talking about other people’s emotions maybe, sure, but not when it comes to himself.”

Reyna’s statement gave Annabeth momentary pause. Although her immediate instinct was to argue with her, the more she thought about it, the more Annabeth found herself wondering how she had never picked up on that. Even though so many of their conversations strayed into their personal feelings, it had only just dawned on Annabeth how the overwhelming majority of those conversations tended to be about her own feelings, not Percy’s.

Of course, that wasn’t to say Percy never shared how he was feeling. Their conversation atop Aspen Peak and the conversation where he told her that he had gotten recruited by USC were examples of that. However, there were still clearly some things that Percy just never really talked to her about. An obvious example being how she knew practically nothing about any of his previous relationships.

It was difficult to tell but she could detect that there was a pattern of Percy deliberately hiding things from her if they were painful for him to talk about. Yet, Annabeth had never gotten the impression that those repressed feelings would someday inevitably explode out of him, demanding to be released. Whenever she bottled her own feelings, despite her best efforts, they were destined to burst at some point, only ever prolonging the inevitable, but in Percy’s case, it was like they were swallowed by a black hole, leaving no evidence of their existence.

“I can’t believe I never noticed,” Annabeth whispered.

Reyna shrugged and said, “Don’t blame yourself. Men are just like that.”

Annabeth shook her head. “Percy’s different. It’s not like he’s so out of touch with his own feelings that he can’t talk about them. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s not like what you’re thinking.”

“Maybe you’re just giving him too much credit,” Reyna said lightly.

Annabeth bristled despite herself. “What’s your deal with him? You haven’t liked him since you met him and you don’t even know a single thing about him.”

Reyna was quiet for a while before she said, “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain, but when I look at him, all I see is a fake.”

“A fake?”

“He reeks of lies. Lies about how he feels, what he thinks, what he wants. I’ll take your word about him being a good person or whatever, but that doesn’t change anything in my eyes. I can’t trust someone who is constantly pretending to be someone else,” Reyna said.

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “That seems like a huge stretch to me. Like I said, you barely know-”

Reyna held up a hand, stopping her. “I can tell. I can’t explain why, but I just know. I’ve been able to since I was a kid, and I have never been wrong.”

Annabeth paused and considered her words for a moment. It was certainly believable that Reyna could be someone with incredibly good instincts, but at the same time, Annabeth couldn’t accept that she was making judgments about her best friend without knowing a single thing about him. Yet, for whatever reason, Annabeth couldn’t bring herself to immediately reject what Reyna had said. There was something about the conviction in her voice and eyes that gave her pause.

“Was there something you noticed? Something you saw him do that made you think about him like this?” Annabeth asked.

Reyna thought for a moment before sighing. “It’s not like there was a specific thing about him that made me realize. It’s like his overall vibe.”

“His vibe?” Annabeth said, trying not to sound skeptical.

“Let’s just say, I’ve met men like that before. Men who look kind on the outside, but are monsters on the inside. It’s hard for me to not feel hostile towards them,” Reyna said tersely.

Annabeth couldn’t help immediately repeating: “Percy’s not like that.”

“I hope he isn’t,” Reyna said simply.

A silence filled the space around them, charging the air with a vague sense of unease, until Reyna sighed and spoke again.

“I’ll just say this: he might not be a monster, but he is still pretending to be someone he’s not. If I were you, I would do well not to forget that.”

:::

It was Piper’s fault. She had made it sound so wonderful when she had pitched the idea to Annabeth: ice skating on the night of New Year’s Eve. Even a cynic like Annabeth couldn’t deny that there was an inherent romantic appeal to that. Unfortunately, it just so happened that New Year’s Eve was the coldest day of the year. And, of course, the rink that Piper had chosen happened to be outdoors. That obviously went without saying.

Annabeth tried not to wallow in too much self-pity on the walk from her car to the chalet, but she couldn’t help indulging herself. After all, it was freezing outside. She buried her hands in her coat pockets and hid her nose behind her scarf to keep it from turning red, but the horrible faux-wool material felt like sandpaper against her skin. She fantasized about turning around and leaving before anyone noticed her and spending the night buried beneath a mound of blankets, but she arrived at the chalet before she could decide.

Unfortunately, the chalet would offer no reprieve. The first thing that assailed her was the heat - a dry, stuffy heat, the kind that made it hard to breathe. The second was the smell. The stench of sweat clung to the linoleum peeling off the walls, and the slight give of the vomit-colored carpet underfoot made it feel like it had seeped into the fabric too.

It was time to leave, Annabeth decided brightly, but Piper noticed her and waved her over before she could make her escape. Annabeth sighed and headed towards the benches where Piper was sitting and hoped she wouldn’t contract hepatitis from sitting down.

On her way there, she was somewhat late to arrive. Frank and Leo were at the front desk, renting their skates, and Piper and Jason had already finished lacing their skates. Jason offered her a small smile when she sat down across from them, but her lips were so chapped that they would probably start bleeding if she tried to smile so she settled for a nod.

“Someone looks grumpy.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t antagonize her, Piper.”

Annabeth nodded and pointed to Jason. “Listen to your boyfriend. He seems to be the smart one.”

Piper rolled her eyes. “Rude.”

“I think I’m entitled to a little rudeness,” Annabeth said, sitting back. “I could be in bed right now, covered in blankets.”

“This might be our last New Year’s Eve together,” Piper said. “You really sure you want to spend it hiding in your bedroom?”

Annabeth hummed. “Remind me again how you chose this wonderful establishment?”

Piper had the decency to look sheepish. “It was the only place open on New Year’s Eve.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Annabeth said.

“You should go get your skates, Annabeth,” Jason interrupted tactfully. “It looks like Frank and Leo are done.”

Annabeth stood up and sent an I’m-watching-you gesture in Piper’s direction, but Piper just opted to flick her off. Charming.

Thankfully, there was no one waiting at the front desk when Annabeth made her way there. The balding man behind the counter asked for her shoe size before disappearing behind the shelves, stocked to the brim with skates, and it didn’t take long for him to return with a pair of white skates and set them on the counter. Annabeth was in the process of fishing for spare change when the door to the chalet opened, letting in a gust of cold air.

Rachel stepped inside, her freckled cheeks pink from the cold, and waved to Annabeth enthusiastically with a grin. Percy stood behind her, rubbing his palms together to warm his hands, looking cold for once in his life. They both made their way up to the front desk as Annabeth tucked the skates under her arm.

Percy turned to her smiling while Rachel spoke with the store-owner. “Happy New Year.”

“It’s still New Year’s Eve.”

“Only for four more hours,” Percy said, shrugging.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Happy New Year’s Eve to you too.”

“You’re always so grumpy when you’re cold,” Percy said fondly. “Aren’t white people supposed to be good with the cold?”

“Oh my God, Karen, you can't just ask people why they're white.”

Not a beat passed before Percy answered: “Boo, you whore.”

Annabeth bit back a laugh and pushed him towards the counter. “Alright, alright, you can terrorize me after you get your skates, you dork.”

Percy did his best seal-eyes impression, but Annabeth stuck out her tongue at him and followed Rachel back to the benches. Once they sat down, Rachel finished lacing her skates with practiced ease and watched Annabeth struggle with hers with avid interest. Annabeth wondered how long it would take for her to swallow her pride and ask Rachel for help, but Rachel volunteered before she could, crouching in front of her and deftly tying her skates in seconds.

“You’re good at that,” Annabeth said.

Rachel stood up and shrugged. “My parents forced me take figure skating lessons for like six years, so I have a lot of practice.”

“I think the last time I went skating was in like second grade,” Annabeth mused.

“Do you even remember how to skate?” Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I guess we’ll both find out very soon.”

“I could teach you, if you’d like,” Rachel offered.

Annabeth rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Thank you, but I think I can figure it out. I mean, how hard could it be?”

:::

It turned out to be plenty hard.

Annabeth managed all of three steps on the ice before falling backwards, arms flailing. Percy caught her before she hit the ground thankfully, his hand curled around her hip. Annabeth felt her face heat up when he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips, but he helped her upright without commenting on it. Unfortunately, it only took two more steps for her to slip again. He caught her by the arm before she fell any further and shook with barely suppressed laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, asshole,” Annabeth grumbled.

“Weren’t you just telling Rachel something about how skating didn’t seem all that hard?” Percy asked innocently.

Annabeth bit the inside of her cheek. “I think you just have an overactive imagination.”

“First the cold, and now this,” Percy said solemnly. “Looks like your Scandinavian roots have failed you in more ways than one.”

“This is reverse-racism.”

That tore a laugh out him, but he quickly held his palms in surrender. “Sorry, sorry, just give me a minute.”

Annabeth flicked him off and retreated to the wall circling the rink to steady herself. She looked at the rink, hoping she wasn’t alone in her embarrassment, but it seemed like everyone else seemed to be faring much better than her. Frank was her only comrade in arms, arms stretched and teetering, a mortified look on his face, while Leo stood next to him, not even trying to hide his laughter. Hazel scowled and swatted him before going to help Frank maintain his balance. Rachel breezed around the rink with an effortless grace and fluidity, seemingly in her own world, while Piper and Jason held hands and made slow, leisurely circuits around the rink.

Percy moved towards her and said, “C’mon, I’ll help you.”

“Can’t I just go home?” Annabeth whined.

Percy’s lips quirked upwards. “It’s not that hard, trust me. It’s just like riding a bike.”

“Something tells me I’m just going to spend the next few hours falling on my ass and making a fool of myself.”

“I’ll catch you before you do,” Percy promised.

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “And if I take you down with me?”

“I’m willing to risk it,” Percy said, shrugging.

Annabeth was silent for a while before she shut her eyes and sighed. “God, I hate you. Fine, let’s get this over with.”

Percy took her by the hands and helped her away from the wall. “That’s the spirit.”

Annabeth glared at him before lacing her fingers between his. She couldn’t help noticing how warm his hands were, but she didn’t have long to dwell on it because being back on the ice put the fear of god back in her real fast. Percy tried to help her make a lap around the rink, but it was a grueling journey. She spent most of it crushing his hands and teetering on the brink of embarrassment: legs outstretched, knees turned inwards, feeling like an absolute idiot. The concentration needed to maintain her footing was exhausting and demanded every ounce of focus she could muster. But, with Percy’s help, Annabeth managed three laps around the rink over the span of ninety minutes without falling a single time.

At the start of the fourth lap, Percy untangled his fingers from hers, striking a bolt of fear through her. Annabeth reached for him desperately, eyes wide with panic, but he caught her by the wrists and gave her a stern look.

“I’m going to let go of you now, okay?” Percy said. “I promise, I won’t let you fall.”

“I need more time,” Annabeth said frantically. “I-I’m not ready yet.”

“You can do this,” Percy said, firmly not unkindly. “Trust me.”

Annabeth licked her horribly chapped lips and nodded uneasily. The conviction in his words made her want to believe him, but it did nothing to dispel the terror inside her.

“Okay, here goes,” Percy said.

Annabeth bit the inside of her cheek and watched Percy slowly release her and step away. She stood there for a few seconds before Percy skated backwards, still facing towards her, and beckoned for her to follow him.

Her heart thundered in her chest. It was the moment of truth.

She took one step. Then another. Then another.

With her eyes locked on Percy, she used every atom in her body to keep herself steady. She kept waiting to fall as they slowly made their way around the rink, but she managed to somehow make it the halfway around without falling.

Annabeth looked up at him with an incredulous laugh. “Holy shit! I-I’m doing it! I’m actually doing it!”

A smile crossed Percy’s face, equal parts proud and fond, but Annabeth couldn’t help thinking it looked a bit sad too.

“You are,” Percy said softly. “I knew you could.”

“You have way too much faith in me,” Annabeth said, shaking her head. “It’s a miracle that I didn’t fall.”

“It’s not faith,” Percy said. “I just know you.”

Annabeth stilled for a moment and locked eyes with him. His words were light, like he had spoken them without thinking, but it made a lump form in her throat all the same.

“Yeah, yeah you do,” she said softly.

Before the moment had a chance to establish itself, Annabeth’s legs both decided it was an excellent time to give out. She only had time to emit a short yelp before she fell on her ass and Percy rushed in.

He helped her up with a laugh. “Okay, looks like someone needs a break.”

Annabeth’s face was beet red and it had nothing to do with the cold. “Uh, yeah, I think I’ll go to the chalet and sit down a bit.”

Percy nodded and moved to help her, but she shook her head. “I’ll be fine. You’ve been babysitting me this whole time, so go enjoy yourself.”

He paused for a moment before reluctantly nodding and skating away. Annabeth watched him go before making a beeline for the chalet. After nearly two hours of constant terror, even the stuffy, pungent air in the chalet was a welcome change. She took off her hat to let her hair loose, but some sweat-soaked strands lay matted against her forehead.

An overwhelming need to take a nap washed through her, and she was so tired that she didn’t bother resisting it.

It was hard to say how long she was asleep but she started when Jason sat down beside her, holding two styrofoam cups of hot chocolate. Annabeth accepted a cup from him and took a sip. It was so watery that she could hardly taste the chocolate, but at least it was hot going down her throat.

Annabeth wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Where did you get this?”

“There’s a machine by the bathroom,” Jason said.

“Ah, that certainly explains things.”

Jason nudged her with his elbow. “I know you’re not thrilled to be here, but Piper really tried her best to get this whole thing together.”

Annabeth sighed and said, “Yeah, sorry, I’m just indulging in a little pettiness.”

“I know,” Jason said, smiling. “Just be aware of your limits.”

“I feel like you’re one step away from going full Dad and being like, ‘I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed’.”

Jason laughed and said, “I suppose I deserve that.”

There was a pause before Annabeth gave him a tentative look. “Is she mad at me?”

Jason shook his head. “Nah, she knows you well enough to know you don’t mean it.”

Annabeth cleared her throat and nodded before staring at her cup pensively. “How are you both doing?”

“We’re good,” he said, sighing. “Just trying to make the most out of the rest of the year. Piper’s really worried about leaving behind regrets, so she’s going a little overboard, but her heart is in the right place.”

“That’s a mood,” Annabeth said. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.”

“It’s hard not to,” Jason admitted. “I mean our lives are going to change pretty drastically in a few months, after all.”

There was a pause before Annabeth said, “That doesn’t ever scare you or anything, that things might not be the same?”

“I know they won’t be the same,” Jason said. “But the way I see it, if it’s inevitable anyways, there’s no point worrying about it. The only thing you can do is to enjoy things while they last.”

“That’s a very lonely way of looking at things,” Annabeth said quietly.

“You might be right, but I don’t want to waste the time I have left with Piper and you and everyone else being stressed and miserable,” Jason said, shrugging. “If the time we have left is limited, I want to choose to spend it being happy.”

She paused for a moment to stare at him. “Honestly, sometimes I can’t help feeling like you’re an eighty year old stuck in the body of an eighteen year old.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but thanks.”

Annabeth leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “The idea that nothing lasts terrifies me.”

“I don’t know, there’s something strangely beautiful about it too,” Jason mused.

She gave him a sidelong glance. “In what way?”

Jason shrugged. “Things are precious to us because we can’t take them for granted. You have to pay attention and appreciate them while you can, or you’ll miss it and never have it back. I’m sure you’ve felt it too: those moments that you wish you could live in forever, even though you know it’s impossible, so you try your best to savor them and burn them into your memory so you don’t ever forget. There’s just a special kind of beauty about that. At least, that’s how I feel.”

Memories flashed in her mind with an almost desperate urgency, so quickly that she couldn’t register their contents, only the lingering impressions they left in their wake. The cold touch of steel beneath her palms lying on Percy’s car, staring up at the night sky, and the warmth of the sweatshirt he’d draped across her shoulders. Dappled sunlight filtered through half-drawn blinds, flour stuck in her hair, the smell of cookies baking in the oven, and the sound of laughter. The untraversable distance between his hand in hers, his heat searing through her skin ever so gently, and the lazy circuit of his thumb brushing her knuckles with a tenderness she didn’t deserve.

Annabeth couldn’t help thinking that “beautiful” was too small a word. The feeling was beautiful, yes, but the word alone could not capture the fact that it was also deep and gentle and tinged with melancholy, but all the more exquisite for it.

A lump formed in her throat. “I-I think I get what you mean.”

Jason offered her a soft smile and squeezed her hand. “There’s a phrase for that in Japanese, you know? They call it mono no aware: the bittersweet, wistful appreciation of the impermanence of things.”

There was a pause before Annabeth said tightly, “I’m glad there’s a word for it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jason said, still smiling.

They sat there for a while in silence before Jason stood up and stretched. “We should probably back. They must be wondering where we are.”

Annabeth nodded but made no move to stand up. Jason looked at her for a while before sighing and showing her his wristwatch.

“It’s almost midnight,” he said. “C’mon, everyone’s waiting for us.”

That was enough to get her out of her seat, but she still couldn’t help sighing. She followed him back to the rink and noticed that they had it to themselves. Earlier, there had been a few other couples and families, but they must have left while she’d been asleep.

The light of the full moon reflected off the ice, casting a milky-silver glow. She stepped onto the ice with Jason and skated towards their friends. They were sitting down at the center of the rink and talking amongst themselves until they noticed her arrival.

“She’s alive!” Jason announced. “She was just sleeping.”

“Percy was worried sick about you,” Leo said, smirking.

Percy scowled and said, “I wasn’t that worried.”

“You kind of were,” Rachel said. “You should’ve seen him fretting like a mother hen.”

“I would apologize, but I can take care of myself,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes.

“You were gone for like two hours, Annabeth,” Hazel said. “I don’t think it was that weird for him to worry.”

“Again, you guys are all exaggerating way too much,” Percy protested.

“You guys should sit down,” Frank said. “We can spread out a bit to make extra space.”

Once the circle expanded, Annabeth sat down between Percy and Rachel, and Jason sat close to Piper and wrapped an arm around her, tucking her into his side. Rachel continued a story that she must have been telling prior to Annabeth’s arrival, so she couldn’t follow it at all. She tried to listen for a few minutes before getting bored and turning to Percy.

“I know you’re protective of me and all, but don’t worry so much,” Annabeth whispered firmly.

Percy lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know, but sometimes, I just can’t help it.

“You have to try,” Annabeth said. “What are you going to do when we leave for college?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

Annabeth sighed and said, “I’m not trying to be mean or anything. I’m just scared you’ll burn yourself out for no reason. We both know that I can handle things on my own.”

“That’s not the point,” Percy muttered.

“Then what is the point?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t doubt your ability to take care of yourself,” Percy said slowly. “It’s just that I care about you, so I can’t help worrying.”

“I care about you too, but I can worry about you without feeling the need to step in and get involved.”

At this, Percy was silent, so Annabeth continued. “When you get involved, it kind of feels like you’re babying me.”

“I’m not trying to baby you,” Percy said, frowning.

“Then trust me to come to you when I need your help, okay?”

Percy paused for a moment before nodding hesitantly. “Okay.”

Annabeth offered a small smile. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

The look on his face was inscrutable, but he nodded again all the same. Annabeth tapped a finger on the ice and rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. She’d said her piece. The rest was up to Percy now.

She had another reason for wanting him to understand this, although she hadn’t said so aloud. Percy’s worry and need to help her made it all too easy for her to rely on him too much. Sometimes, she had to catch herself before immediately going to him anytime she had even a trivial problem. It hadn’t always been that way, but over the years, she had come to depend on him far too much. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that, apart from Percy, she didn’t have any experience relying on anyone else but herself, so she had no concept of moderation when it came to depending on him.

She didn’t know how to let someone in halfway. It had always been all or nothing.

“There’s only two minutes left till midnight,” Frank said, looking at his watch.

“We should try to find a stream of the ball drop,” Hazel suggested.

“Already on it,” Leo said, typing furiously on his phone.

Once he found a stream, Leo turned the volume up on his phone and slid it to the center of the ring. His phone was old, so the volume was feeble but it was still audible for the most part. Anderson Cooper was talking to some celebrity or other about how excited the crowd was in Times Square and pointed out how there seemed to be more couples in attendance this year compared to other ones.

“Aw man, that’s right,” Leo complained. “Now, there’s another couple I gotta see kiss on New Year’s Eve.”

Hazel pulled a face. “Don’t ruin things for Annabeth and Percy, Leo.”

“Yeah, Leo, fuck off,” Piper said, flipping him off.

At first, Annabeth didn’t know what they were talking about, but then she immediately looked down at her lap, her face burning.

That was right, the New Year’s kiss was a thing. She’d totally forgotten about that.

Discreetly, she looked at Percy out of the corner of her eye, wondering if he was going to kiss her or not. After all, it would look kind of strange if they didn’t, considering they were supposed to be a couple now. Annabeth was certain their friends would notice and comment about it.

He was staring off in the distance with a clenched jaw, shifting uneasily beside her, which only made her growing anxiety worsen. She picked at the fraying wool on her peacoat and wished they had some time to at least discuss a plan of action, but there was only thirty seconds before the ball drop.

For the last ten seconds, they all chanted along with the crowd, but Annabeth could barely make a sound.

 10.

 9.

 8.

Percy shifted again.

 7.

 6.

Annabeth could feel his eyes on her, so she looked up at him.

 5.

 4.

Percy moved closer to her, blocking out the full moon. It cast a silver halo around his head, reflecting off his obsidian hair and bathing him in an ethereal glow.

 3.

Her throat was bone dry.

 2.

She barely registered the conflicted gleam in his eyes as he leaned in to her or the featherlike touch of his fingers, tilting her chin upwards.

 1.

Annabeth felt his breath on her face and the scent of his cologne. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the thundering of her heart pounding in her chest, parting her lips.

 0.

Distantly, she could hear her friends yelling “Happy New Year” but her entire world was reduced down to a singularity. She waited, her heart stuck in her throat.

Christ, her lips were so chapped.

Then she felt the brush of his lips, but not against her own like she’d expected. By the time she noticed the lingering warmth on her cheek, Percy was already pulling away. She opened her eyes and caught the look in his eyes. The emotion shining in them was too complicated for her to describe in words, but she couldn’t help thinking that he looked almost tortured.

“Happy New Year,” Percy whispered, voice raw.

Annabeth blinked and cleared her throat. “Um, yeah, Happy New Year.”

The conflicted look on his face didn’t disappear until Hazel gave him a one-armed hug and wished him a happy new year. Annabeth couldn’t dwell on it for long either before Rachel tackled her in a hug and wished her as well. The carousel of wishing each of her friends was oddly annoying even though it shouldn’t have been. A single emotion burned in the pit of her stomach, predominating her field of awareness, but it only served to bewilder her. She tried stealing looks at Percy in the hope that it would offer some insight, but the more she looked to him, the more intensely it gnawed at her.

Moonlit snowflakes fell through the dark as Annabeth struggled to make sense of the overwhelmingly empty feeling in the hollow of her chest and why it felt so much like disappointment.

[greekgrad12]

It Takes Two: percabeth!au

Mattie Jackson and Hayley Chase meet at the start of summer and discover that they are each other's identical clone. With a little more investigating, the two girls discover that they are, in fact, twins. Things only get crazier when they find out that their adoptive parents were once in love. Now, they have to work together to reunite Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase before Mattie’s dad ends up dating the new camp counselor and Hayley’s mom gets married to a kid hating, gold digger.

And what better way to do that than to switch places?

or

i rewatched It Takes Two and decided to make it percabeth :)

read on ao3 

*******************************************************

Percy Jackson had just finished packing his last duffel bag when he heard a very familiar voice yelling outside his apartment window. A voice that belonged to someone who was supposed to be in the next room over packing her own bags. A frustrated sigh left his lips as he opened the bedroom window looking down towards the street. Just as he suspected, a crowd of children were scattered on the road, some taking up the spaces around the chalk-drawn diamond, others sitting on the sidelines. And right there on the makeshift home plate stood none other than...

"Matilda Sally Jackson!" Percy yelled down from the fourth floor to his daughter, "If I were to walk into your room right now, would your suitcases be packed?"

The ten-year-old girl turned and gave her dad an exasperated look, "Ah come on, dad! Ten bucks say you only just got done!"

"Thankfully, I'm not raising you to be like me," He teased, leaning on the windowsill. He was very much aware of the red tint on his daughter's olive cheeks, even from the distance between the two, "I'm hopefully raising you to be better. Now come finish packing, we're leaving in two hours!"

Percy and his daughter had a great relationship, unlike Percy and his bio-dad or first stepfather. Yeah, he didn't have the best luck in the fatherhood department, but that was why he wanted to do better for his daughter. And he was. Percy spent every day trying to be a good dad to Mattie. He taught her his mother's famous cookie recipe, braided her hair every morning before school, and attended every single swim match she had. Granted he was also the coach, but still.

Mattie didn't have a mom. Well, not one that she remembered anyway. Percy and his ex-wife, Lydia, were on thin ice for a long time. One of their main arguments being, Percy wanted kids, she didn't. Percy knew from a young age that he wanted a family, so there was no use trying to argue that. Somewhere along the way, they had reached an agreement and Mattie was on the way. Halfway through the whole process, Lydia changed her mind. This lead to the fifth argument of the month and to their inevitable divorce.

This also lead to the decision that would change the rest of Percy's life. Would he still adopt baby Mattie?

Yep, adopt. Lydia didn't want to go through the whole pregnancy ordeal and Percy was more than happy to adopt. He knew what it was like to grow up in a tough home and if he could prevent that from happening to another kid, he wouldn't hesitate. Mattie’s birth mother was a 19-year-old girl who was apparently going through a hard time. Truthfully, Percy didn’t know much about her, but it wasn’t due to a lack of effort. When bio-mom picked Percy and Lydia to be the parents of her unborn child, she was in the final stages of her pregnancy and she didn’t want to meet them. The only thing Percy heard about her was that she moved out west somewhere only a week after Mattie was born.

As a social worker employed at Goode Middle School, Percy had the advantage of being college friends with many of the adoption agents. This helped speed up the adoption process tremendously. At first, he saw that as a blessing, but after the divorce, it seemed that Percy was under even more pressure to make his decision.

It took some long talks with his mom to convince Percy that he could still do this; be a single dad. But it was his little sister, Estelle, who convinced him he would be great at it. After all, he had partially helped raise her and she turned out okay. She ate all of their mom's blue cookies, but she was okay. Plus, his family would be right by his side. So, Percy went along with the adoption. He hasn't regretted it once.

Yes, Mattie was adopted, but two you could never really tell. Mattie was daddy's little girl from the very beginning. From their beach days together to their daddy-daughter dates to get cheeseburgers at the local diner, the two were inseparable. By some twist of fate, the baby girl had even grown up to have a shade of green eyes like her dad's.

And that wasn't where the similarities stopped. Mattie was a rambunctious and sarcastic kid. There are times when Percy isn't sure what to expect from her, but more often than not, Mattie was the most helpful and patient kid a single dad could ask for. Still, as easygoing as she could be, Percy knew how proud his daughter was. After being embarrassed in front of her friends, Mattie Jackson had something to prove.

"Just let me hit this ball downtown! Grand slam, home run, guaranteed," Mattie was a lot like her father, but she had ambition. She was a tough girl. A smart girl. She reminded Percy of-

"Okay, fine," He started, "but if it's anything less, you're making me a mug at camp."

The girl shuddered at the idea of having to participate in her least favorite camp activity but nodded nonetheless. She stepped back up to the plate. Mattie was athletic. She hopped around from sport to sport, mainly just for the experience, but there was nothing she loved more than swimming. Her father's love for the water was one of the many things the girl had picked up from him.

But right now, Mattie's focus wasn't on the water. Percy watched as she scrunched her nose up, waiting for the pitch. The boy at the pitchers' mound, one of Mattie's friends, Cody, was taking his sweet time with the ball. Right when it looked like he was about to throw the pitch, he instead turned to his team and signaled for them to back up.

Percy couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips. He wanted a World's Best Dad mug, but at that moment, he wanted his daughter to show those kids who's boss more.

The ball was pitched and the next thing Percy knew, he was hearing the sweet sound of a crack made from the balls' contact with the bat. He cheered as his daughter took first, and again when she rounded the corner for second. The ball had landed somewhere far down the street and the rest of Mattie's team were assuring her it was safe. She made it to third and right when Percy was sure he wouldn't be getting his mug, a car pulled up and parked right over home plate.

Mattie slowed down and stopped right in front of the old car. A confused look was shared between the other kids, but she knew exactly who the vehicle belonged to. And while she was happy to see it, Mattie was pissed that she couldn't reach home from under the car.

"Mattie, your dad called me half an hour ago telling me that you two were just now starting to pack. What are you doing out here?"

Before the girl could answer, Cody's voice rang out at her side.

"Loosing," The boy mocked as he tagged the girl out with the ball.

Mattie turned towards him and glared, "There is no way this counts!"

***

"I want my mug to be blue," Percy teased his daughter as she walked back into their apartment, "with World's Best Dad written in big letters."

"You and I both know that you don't need a mug to know you're the best dad. Plus, I suck at clay molding," The girl complained, "Not to mention that it's the most boring activity at camp."

Her father smirked, "Well you should have thought of that before you agreed to the bet."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Mattie grumbled, "Can I just pay Rachel to do it for me?"

"No," He laughed, "and don't even try to go behind my back and do it anyway, because I will find out.”

"Okay, you two, settle down," Sally Jackson-Blofis' laughter rang out in the small apartment. As much as Mattie was a daddy's girl, Percy was a bigger mama's boy, "I came by to see you before you leave and drop off some cookies for the trip."

Mattie's eyes couldn't have bulged out of their sockets more when her grandmother pulled out the plastic tub of blue cookies. Just as she went to grab the box, it was pulled out of reach by her father, "Oh, no you don't."

"Oh, come on, dad!" Giving the best puppy dog look she could muster, Mattie looked up at Percy, "Just one?"

Percy had to look at his mother for support. There was little that his daughter couldn't get away with when that look was thrown his way, "Nope. Not until you're done packing."

"Seriously?" His daughter whined, "Wasn't calling me Matilda in front of all my friend's punishment enough?"

"You know, I was this close to naming you Janet," He mocked, holding his pointer finger and thumb so close they were barely touching.

Mattie's big eyes narrowed into a glare as she stuck her tongue out at her father, "Fine, but don't be surprised if your mug doesn't have a handle."

"I think you're just doing that to make the sculpting easier for you."

A small grin appeared on her face and she shrugged, "Maybe."

Percy rolled his eyes at the girl and chuckled as she walked back to her room. He turned back to his mom and saw her wearing the same endearing look she always has when she watches the interactions between her son and granddaughter.

"You've definitely raised a little you," Sally laughed.

"Well, in that case," Percy grinned and opened the Tupperware container holding the cookies, "I'm sorry for hogging the shower as a kid."

Sally took the container out of his hands before he got the chance to pick out a cookie, "And I'm sorry for not allowing you to be a hypocrite."

"What? I'm done with my packing!" Percy promised as he reached for the container.

"Even the extra blankets? You know how cold the bunks can get at night."

Percy was quiet for a moment before letting out a defeated groan, "You know, I was really proud of myself for a moment there."

"You should still be proud of yourself, honey," Sally grinned, "You're a great dad, and you and Mattie are going to have a great time at camp this year, just like you always do."

Camp Half-Blood was a summer camp that Percy had been attending since he was nine years old. His bio dad had attended the camp in his youth and it was one of the few things that Percy had left of the man after he died. When his mother remarried, it was a safe place away from his first stepfather, Smelly Gabe, a man that Sally Jackson only married because, at the time, she didn't have the funds to properly provide for her son. The camp had a big influence on the man Percy became. The experiences he had, the friends he made, the place where he felt closest to his father.

The girl he fell in love with.

Even years after he grew too old to be a camper, Percy found himself volunteering every summer as a camp counselor. A few years later, he was offered a paid position as an official counselor and the camp social worker. Chiron, the camp activities director, was more than happy to have him back. Especially, when he started bringing his daughter with him.

He couldn't help but smile at that, "Thanks, mom. I'm really excited about this year. You know, Camp Half-Blood was remodeled this past fall. Everything has been upgraded, I can't wait to see it."

"I'm sure it will look great. You've been complaining about the faulty flooring in the pavilion for years."

"There's been a giant crack going down the center of that thing ever since the earthquake back when I was still a camper. That's completely dangerous!"

His mother laughed and raised her arms in defeat, "Trust me, I agree. Still, with all the changes, I'm surprised that the camp could afford all the modifications."

"Yeah, I think the head of the architect company in charge is an old friend of Chiron's. Apparently, they will be coming down and checking out the camp, you know, to see how their work panned out, I guess."

"Well, you'll have to thank whoever they are for fixing your pavilion," Sally teased him as she grabbed a cookie out of the container and took a bite. Percy's mouth fell open as he stared at his mother with a look of betrayal, "What? I don't have to pack anything. Plus, a made them, I don't need justification."

"You are a cruel woman."

***

An hour and a half later, Percy and his daughter were packing their bags -and the extra blankets- into the car and heading towards Long Island Sound. With barely thirty minutes into the trip, half of Sally's cookies had been devoured and they had played a very enthusiastic game of Eye Spy.

"So," Mattie started as she reached for her fourth cookie, "is this the year you finally tell me who A.C. is?”

When Mattie was seven, during her first year at camp, Percy was adamant about showing her everything from his time at camp. Including all his favorite spots and activities from his time there. They visited the horse stables, where Percy told his daughter stories about his favorite horses and how he was one of the best riders. He took her to the strawberry field where they picked strawberries with her uncle Grover, just like the two had done when they were boys. But he was most excited about taking her to the dock and swimming in the water. Some of his most precious memories were made at that beach, on the dock. It was a special place for him. A place where he used to sit with her and escape from the world. A place where a first kiss was perfect under the Fourth of July fireworks. A place where carved initials still stood to this day.

When Mattie first found the letters carved at the end of the dock, she knew immediately that they weren't new. The marks had faded with time. When she realized that the first set of letters in P.J. + A.C. looked familiar, she decided to ask her father, Percy Jackson, if he knew who made the marks. Percy had never been a good liar. That was the day Mattie found out everything about her father's days at Camp Half-Blood. Everything, except who A.C. was.

"Mattie," Percy sighed, eyes staying on the road, "I've told you a thousand times, she's just an old friend. I haven't spoken to her in years, since before you were even born. I don't understand why you're so interested in this."

"Because friends don't carve their initials together on a dock for the world to see," The young girl persisted, blue crumbs falling from the side of her mouth, "That's what couples do in movies and stuff."

"Well, that explains it then. This isn't a movie, T," Truthfully, Percy wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself more, "Besides, the camp went under construction this year, I'm sure the old dock was torn down and rebuilt. It was old."

Although, he would never admit this to his daughter, Percy was hoping, and wishing, and praying to anyone who would listen that the dock stayed the same. Percy would be lying if he said that he wasn't anxious about seeing it again. The thing was old, and he knew that the safety of the campers outweighed the feeling he still got in his stomach when he saw their initials carved together.

Maybe he could have called Chiron. Asked him if the new camp architect would spare that last plank of wood at the very edge of the water. Asked if he could keep it. One last memory of the childhood love he would never admit to never getting over.

What a ridiculous idea, he thought. Still, he always got like this in the summer, especially at camp.

Despite the fact that he was avoiding eye contact and staring towards the road, Percy could feel Mattie's frustrated gaze staring him down, but he held his ground. He was never going to see her again. The last time he saw her gray eyes staring back at him was at eighteen years old, their last summer as campers. She lived in San Francisco, California and would be going to UC Berkeley in the fall. He wasn't surprised, she was a genius. But Percy? He would stay in Manhattan and go to college on a swimming scholarship. They would try and stay in touch like how they did growing up. Busy schedules and adulthood would cause them to fail. Percy would still think of her, but he'd still get married to another woman. Percy would try to make it work, but he would still find himself wishing Lydia were her, and hating himself for it. So he tried to stop, but he couldn't help wondering. Wondering what she was doing. Wondering what could have been. But they hadn't spoken in years.

There was no point in telling his daughter how wonderful she was, because he knew Mattie would fall in love with her, just as he did. And they would never meet.

So, no. Percy would not tell his daughter about the girl he spent every summer with. He would not tell her about the girl who made fun of him for drooling in his sleep. He would not tell her about the girl who would sit with him at the dock and draw building structures while they talked about nothing and everything all at once. He would not tell her about the girl who's comfort book was Matilda, and that she made him read it, and that him joking about how she probably had superpowers like the character, because she too was a genius, made her blush. Percy would not tell his daughter because it would hurt too much.

Percy would not tell his daughter about his first love, Annabeth Chase.

*********

part two :)

[n-ugg]

I didn't expect to get tagged but here we are. As you all will be able to tell in a bit, I am a massive Quackity fan

Thank you for tagging me @skeetlehands!

who is your favourite member on the smp?

Look, I love them all but these have a special place in my heart.

Quackity, Slimecicle (I am fully aware he just joined but I still love him), Schlatt, Tubbo, Eret, AweSamdude, and Ponk.

They're just great in and out of character and just have comforting vibes.

when did you first start watching the smp and what made you get into it?

I gotten in during the Pogtopia era since it took me a while to get access to the streams.

I mainly gotten in with the Sad-ist War animatics along with me trying to catch up on Quackity's VODS. Just someone that I was already familiar with being an easier shift into story and learning others through him

what is your favourite part about watching the smp?

Just watching everyone interact with other and just seeing the plot progress in real time. Its literally just dnd but with extra steps but I enjoy it so much

The improv that they all do is amazing and how everyone have different approaches to their characters makes my writer's side so happy with dissecting everything.

What piece of cursed lore is your favourite

That Wilbur canonically fucked a fish and Philza canonically fucked a Samasung fridge and just seeing the fanbase try to change into something that will at least make a bit more sense.

Im included in this, I basically joined the side that has Sally being a mermaid shapeshifting pirate. Mainly because of pirate Fundy

Who is your favorite duo on the smp

Slimecicle and Ranboo: They're the same person but in different fonts, you can convince me otherwise

Schlatt and Quackity: They managed to be super funny together with all of the jokes and balanced with making a very realistic abusive relationship work. It was always fun seeing them flirt with each other for a joke then get hit with whiplash when canon comes in to remind me that this isnt healthy

Tubbo and Tommy: They're two dumbasses who share the same braincell but then they constantly lose it and Tubbo mainly has custody of it

Wilbur and Schlatt: I just enjoy seeing Schlatt messing with Wilbur and occasionally flirts with him to get Wilbur more pissed off

Who are your comfort streamers

Quackity and Slimecicle are comfort streamers

Eret, Fundy, and AweSamdude are my comfort people (meaning I dont watch them as much but I find comfort in their presence. And the other two are also under this category)

Who is your favorite character

Quackity due to how complex his character is and yet how it looks so simple

Schlatt because is just a villian who knows how to play the game without getting caught

Tubbo, watching him trying to be hopeful with everything destroy around him and he just slowly become used to everything going wrong

AweSamdude because he is just trying his best to be a father figure others and I just got family issues

Who do you think the best actor(s) on the smp

Imma skip over the ones that we all already said and get into the ones that dont get enough praise

Quackity: Just how he managed to make his character seem so basic but in reality its really complex. And just seeing the shift from him being a chaotic force of nature to being a serious character that is trying his best to reach something that has been hanging over his head is just *chefs kiss* and he always delivers amazing lines on the spot.

BadBoyHalo: He is doing great right now, even though he is a bit rusty with starting he still manages to get into character and stay in character the entire time. When slowly easing in, you can tell its a bit forced but once he finds his footing, he knows how to deliver his lines.

AweSamdude: His entire bit where he was getting rescued from the egg fucking hurt. How he sounded weak from the entire thing and tired to where he just wanted to rest was so well. And I know he can act more energetic when he was accidentally dragged into playing a cop during Quackity's and Bad's date

Fundy: You guys need to give him more praise for his acting because he is fucking amazing at it. The little touches to how he voice when speaks is so good along with his body language in game. He knows what he's fucking doing and I love him for that. And when he snapped, it made complete sense if you payed attention to his character

I didnt add Ranboo because he's automatically at the top section due to him being a dnd player. Same goes to Slimecicle even though he hasnt acted yet. I dont make the rules. You play dnd, you know how to act

What are your favorite quotes

I dont have favorite quotes, just dialog heavy scenes.

Before Doomsday, Quackity going to take his horse far away from L'Manberg, it being the one thing he cares about. It was just so good

The entire Schlatt and Quackity argument in front of the white house

The meeting between Schlatt and Quackity with Schlatt yelling out to him in a taunting way to where Tommy and Quackity are trying to figure out what happened to the tnt. I constantly rewatch it to feel the adrinaline pumping to feel something

Wilbur's slow descend into insanity and talking to Tommy. Just showing his paranoia and fears consuming him, him projecting his fears into Tommy as an attempt of manipulation, and his hero complex shift into villian one

Schlatt's winning speech of him projecting it as something that was bound to happen no matter what. The amount of charisma and confidence that was in his voice as I was watching Tommy hiding underground in fear was just a perfect scene

Tommy's argument with Dream when everyone is protecting Tommy. Its the small details of Tommy taunting Dream to kill him, knowing he wont no matter what. Him telling everyone to protect Tubbo and everyone listening without hesitation.

The debate that Quackity and Dream had for like 11 or 14 minutes. All of that was completely unprompted unscripted, it was just so satisfying seeing someone stand up against Dream for the first time and actually beating him. Sure it was in a verble conflict but it still counts as a defeat

Be honest, who do you simp for? (Ayo if anyone says Tommy or Tubbo I will🗡)

Schlatt, Quackity, and Slimecicle

Its pretty obvious, I dont really try to hide it

Whats your favorite stream

Uhhhh I dont exactly have one so none I guess

Whats your least favorite streams

Im sorry, but all of the Jackbox stream. You need a specific group of people to play together in order to actually make it funny and keeping the energy throughout the entire thing.

After a bit later, everyone has a tendency of pandering to the audience and repeat jokes. They managed to beat jokes to the ground faster than Tiktok AND Twitter.

Dont get me started with DreamTeam being in there. They're funny in thier own rights but the shipping jokes get so unfunny so quick and they dont know how bounce off of others well. The only exception to this is when Quackity, Velvet, and Ant were playing with Sapnap and Dream. And thats because they decided to mess with the straight white guys into accidently saying offensive shit and seeing those two suffer with trying tiptoe around was so amusing

Whats something about the smp fandom thay makes you sad

This doesnt get me sad, just frustrated and its mostly towards dsmptok and dsmptwt but sometimes this fandom doesnt fucking know how to analyze characters. Like when everyone jumped on Tubbo on being the bad guy when he was a kid trying to use old tatics that knows that worked before and stand up for himself

How when one person decides to do something that they believe is right, everyone just throws the term villian arc around

When one person does one good thing the suddenly everyone accepts into them being good and not ever looking into it.

For fucks sakes, I saw people keep saying that Quackity was turning into Dream or Wilbur and I just sat there being confused on how they conntected those dots that were in different books.

Its so frustrating to read through. But here on dsmpblr, you guys actually understand character analysis, are able to critique them and able to love whoever you enjoy.

Another thing is how this fanbase really puts everyone on a pedestal or objectify them. Just completely forgetting that they're human and treat the streamer as a character. Like, yeah they're playing up a persona whenever they're making content but theres a difference and you shouldn't hold them up like that.

You cant use the argument of "They're young, they dont know any better", when I first entered my first fandom (I was like 11/12), I fully understood that theres a boundary between me and the creator. What they are on screen is a persona but they're still human and I should treat them as such. Its just something that bugs me and its unnerving to see whenever people start getting wierd about it

Final bit is just how the twitch chat acts. They all force the streamer to follow the 'main' plot of it being Tommy or Techno or whoever the fandom chooses to have a favorite, completely ignoring the fact that they are their own character. No one wants to meta game because where is the fun in that but the fucking chat gets so annoying when the streamer goes against fanfavorite of the week. It drains the fun of it being multiple pov's and different characters.

When Slimecicle was barely starting stream I saw so many people spam "Go with Ranboo" and not let him even get into lore first. I hated that I knew it was coming but it was still so fucking frustrating seeing them try to boss him around. Please just let people live outside of the 'main' plot, not everything revolves around your favorites. Now shut the fuck up and let them play

What about the smp fandom that makes you happy?

The people that create art, animatics, theories, playlist, or write oneshots

All of you creators are great and deserve so much more respect then what the fandom gives you because jesus fucking christ they're all so fucking rude. You guys are the ones that are carrying this fandom on your backs and I fucking respect yall for that

________________

Time for da spead: @nixavia @dambette404 and @mocha-is-lost yall dont need to join.....unless😳😳😳

[monsterslovehumans]

Roses in the Garden

Pairing: Lorrin (NB human) and Borzun (M!Orc)

Rating: Explicit

Content warning: Intercrural sex, long story

Written by: Ellie Beets (Monsterslovehumans)

Another boring suitor. Another boring conversation. Which house was he from? Doesn’t matter, you, Lorrin Bormorte, are not interested. 

“Are you even listening?” You hear Gerarld say, tone insulted. 

“I’m sorry, I was thinking of how we all become soil.” You yawn, lounging further into the cozy chair in the library they were using as a date. Gerarld frowned and glared at you, shaking his head. “As I was saying, when we wed, which is hopefully by the summer” You stopped listening after when and wed. You didn’t want to marry him, you were going to refuse anyway, find some way to wiggle out and go back to your personal garden to tend to it. 

“Okay, no.” You sigh, and look over to Gerarld's shocked face. “We are not going to be wed. It isn’t going to work, mainly because you turn me off, but there’s also the fact you are not competent. You haven’t been taught to manage a house effectively, and that’s evident from this one conversation, you care only for power and wealth, and opinions of others about yourself. And I feel you would never be able to keep up with me in bed.” Sitting up, you move to stand, leaning forward until you are right in his face. “So i’m going to leave, I have better more productive things to do with my time.” You smirk, standing up and leaving the room. You really didn’t care what his expression was, though when your guard Sally walked out with you, she gave a long sigh. 

“That could have been said differently.” She stated. 

“Don’t care.” You huff and look at her smirk. “Besides you know Wyvernwards only care about expansion, they will be gone within the next 50 years, having fallen with others that stretched too far.” 

“Why decide to meet with him anyway then?” She asked, furrowing her brow. 

“Boredom, but I shouldn’t have even bothered, he’s like the rest of the suitors. They want the power of our medicine, not for the benefits but for control. We have a reputation of helping those in need..” You shrug and walk down the hall to your personal flower garden you spend your time working on. 

“Hmm...oh you’re not going to masturbate first, he must have really turned you off.” Sally teased, bumping hips with you. It’s true, Gerarld was like a cold shower. Except it actually worked against your insatiable libido.

“Fuck yeah.” You laughed and stepped out into the sun, feeling it warm your blond hair and honey toned skin on your arms. The sleeveless robes you have hiding your slender body to the world. You walk over and greet your garden like an old friend, Sally moving to sit at the garden table, taking out her book. 

“HEY TUSKFACE!” You frown as you heard Gerarld outside the wall, there must be orcs nearby, It’s true that Zriborian ones were here to meet with various houses, however the words are that they are most not welcome. You’ve never met an orc before, though you’ve never had opportunity too either. 

You look at Sally still reading her book, you knew she would be very engrossed, she didn’t even bat an eye at the shout outside. You sneak closer and closer to one of the small windows that peppered the tall wall. You see two tall orcs, a little taller than Gerarld, who was goading and calling them names. Though the orcs looked angry, they stayed back, glaring at the human. 

Until they were called cowards and weak. You could see them tense up and clench their jaws. You felt like you needed to get involved, it was your words that put Gerarld in a foul mood enough to try and pick a fight. You quickly climb up and down the wall. Walking straight up to Gerarld, who stopped to look at you. A sneer on his face. 

“What now, you arrogant bastard, come to insult me some more?” He growled at you, though part of him looked hopeful that you would apologize. You could tell with the lift of his chin. 

“No, just to give you a gift.” You say sweetly, fluttering your eyes at him, though he seemed to have relaxed, he still kept sneering. He opened his hand, expecting an object. But you merely punched him in the face. 

“What the f-” He said, ready to punch back before you heard a snarl from one of the orcs. Something so hideously terrifying to hear that you felt cold run down your spine. Gerarld must have felt it as well, because he backed off, staring at the snarling orc with fear. 

“This isn’t over” He spat at your feet and walked off. 

You look down at the spit before you, though you weren’t insulted by the act, merely amused.

“Thank you” You look over to the pair of orcs and smile. “Even though I know I can take the punch.” You chuckled. 

“LORRIN BORMORTE” You heard Sally rush over to you, finally realizing that you were gone. She stopped when she saw you in front of the orcs, looking at them suspiciously.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m fine, thanks to these two. Gerarld was trying to pick a fight.” 

“You did insult his prowess in bed and call him incompetent.” Sally said without hesitation. A long suffering smile pulled at her cheeks. freckles, sun kisses, she insisted on them being called, peppering her light skinned face.

“Well, he looks like he wouldn’t be able to satisfy, and he was incompetant.” You snipe back, rolling your eyes and turning to look at the orcs who seemed very amused. “Anyway, I hope you two the best of luck, you’re going to get a lot of shit thrown your way here.” You say, giving a tired smile. Allowing yourself to be led back into the gardens where you went back to tending your plants.

You didn’t think much of the interaction, but your impression of orcs were they look big and scary, and could be big and scary but if you gave them respect they return in kind. That and their bodies just did things to your libido. They made your mouth and body yearn for something, and no toy could satisfy you anymore when it could before. 

A week after the interaction, and you still were not satisfied. You flop onto your bed in frustration, your naked heated body, too sensitive as you touched yourself again and again. As you tried all of your inserting aids, from large to small to try and achieve the release you need. But you knew you needed to bed an orc, and you knew your father would never allow it. He doesn’t even want you fucking humans before you’re married. 

Though one unsuspecting morning, the front doors open with a slam. You jump out of bed and groan, ass and body sore from need. Sally rushed in, looking a little scared. “Get dressed, quickly. You don’t want to miss this” She said with a twinkle in her soft gray eyes. 

You put on your baggy robes and rush down to your father’s office, which was also open and in the middle was a massive orc taking up most of the floorspace in front of the desk. He wore furs and leather armour, brawny and thick, you felt your mouth dry up in need. Oh boy. 

“I have come to make an alliance, youths of my tribe have told me, you were more tolerant of humans.” His deep voice was powerful, vibrating to your soul, and into your loins. Before your father could open his mouth and drive him away you walked in. 

“I do no- Oh...Lorrin” He said through clenched teeth. “What are you doing out of bed, your sickness...has” 

“I’m not sick, father, just horny. Anyway, I’ve come to see our guest.”

“He was just leaving. “ Henry said quickly, though the massive orc remained still, staring at you inquisitively. You stared up and met his green eyes, something clicked within you, it was the wisdom and intellect you saw, you could tell right away this orc fought to be where he was, and knew how to navigate. He was strong. He could handle all parts of you. 

“You say you’ve come for an alliance, I accept your proposal.” You say evenly, but your body was pounding with need and your heart was pounding with the nerves.

“Ahh, thank you.” The orc smiled. 

“I don’t approve of the marriage,” Henry frowned, sitting down. Now it was the orc who was confused. “Marriage?” The orc asked. 

“Yes, human alliances are through marriage.” You stated, and you saw understanding dawn on his features as to why it was so hard to secure alliances here. Though he looked at you curiously, as to why you would accept in the first place. 

“ and we don’t want one. And as head of the Bormorte house, I must ask you to bid adieu, Borzun. The door is that way.” You secretly hope that this Borzun would show his father his place. But you knew the moment you met his eyes, that he would respect and leave. You place a hand on his powerful arm, hotter than your hand. You did your best to swallow your lust for this moment. He looks down his arm at you, his large tusks pointed and deadly looking. This person was not one to take what he wants, you could tell. 

“Henry, you're losing a powerful ally.” You said, using your father’s given name. “No House would touch us if I were to marry Borzun.”

“We would become a prariahs, child, that is why they would not touch us” He shot back.

“We are too important to lose for a city, they would lose their medicines. With the help of Zriborian tribes, our recipes would be safe for the public, we could continue our house mission and stay protected. “ You say softly, walking to the front of the desk and placing your hands on the wooden desk. “Our house could last longer than any before, with a wise man such as yourself at the helm.” You saw it was working, and your father considered it. You are dismayed by the ease that your father could be swayed with a bit of flattery. You can't wait to inherit the Beaumorte house and revitalize it. 

“We will discuss this further, together for tea.” Henry said standing up. “Sally dear, could you get the kitchen to make a meeting ready. “  Sally, who was watching this with a hidden smirk, she nods and goes to the kitchen. Speaking of a new suitor. 

“Now Bordun '' Henry said casually, though you could see Borzun tense at the wrong name. 

“Borzun” You corrected. Henry nodded idly and continued to walk, expecting you two to follow. The massive orc looked at you, and you grinned up at him, not for any particular reason other than you felt a moment of giddiness. He gives an uncertain smile back, his eyes looking into your before looking hungrily at your mouth. Surprisingly he looked away, but the dark colour on his pallid skin showed his shyer side. This will be fun. 

 You sat at the table across from Bozun while Henry sat at the head, they were discussing the terms of the alliance, that they would protect House Bormorte in exchange for their services, wealth and recipes. As they spoke, you spent your time observing Borzun. The way he would patiently correct Henry on the misuse of his name, though you could see that he was annoyed by it. His green eyes were calculating, thinking of his next words, he was intelligent. So deeply so. 

“Bormorte, thank you for taking the time to consider this alliance” He said, voice low, while he was addressing Henry, you knew it was for you. .Fuck did that make your stomach drop, you crept your foot closer to his and gently slid it over it. You saw him tense and his skin darkening. Luckily Henry didn’t really notice much. 

“Ah glad I did, now let’s toast to this alliance” Henry took his tea cup and lifted it up. You run your foot up Borzun’s leg, you pick up the teacup, and watch as Borzun skin grows darker in his cheeks and neck, though he picks up the cup as well. It was so tiny in his fingers, you swallow and think of holding it, how it would feel with your smaller one. Your foot pushes past his knee as you all bring the teacups to the lips. Your eyes fix on his lips and tusks, you rub the top of your foot on his inner thigh, not going further, he takes a sip, though he looks at you for a fraction of a second. His whole face grows dark in need, only for that fraction of a second, before he turns to look at Henry, who was looking at him expectantly. You felt him open his legs a little, deliberate, an invitation.

“Ah, it’s very complex tea, a-are these herbs from your gardens?” Borzun said, it was a topic Henry could spend a great time talking about, you tuned out the tea talk, pressing further at the invitation to explore your future partner, you gently feel and touch, though the moment you press your foot against his cock, and feel how truely thick it was, you felt yourself grow red in the face. It was bigger than your toys, that's for sure. You look at Borzun’s face, he seemed almost smug, though he was blushing as much as you. 

Henry was looking at his cup of tea, listing all the medicinal benefits of it, you push your foot to the base and feel more and more the girth and weight of it, you feel your mouth water at wondering how it would feel inside your mouth, inside your ass. You felt that deep need and want flame up. You look over to Sally, who was watching the entire exchange with amusement barely contained. you try to tell her with your face that you needed some private time. 

“Ah, Head Bormorte, if I may interject, perhaps Lorrin and Borzun could take a tour of the gardens, to get to know each other. “ When Henry opened his mouth, Sally smiled. “I’ll chaperone of course. If they are to wed, it would be best to get some awkwardness out of the way.” Henry frowned, wanting to speak more about medicinal properties, though he nodded, remembering all the work he had before Borzun walked in. 

Borzun looked between you and Sally nervously. He opened his mouth to say something but you pressed his cock between your foot and his stomach, a low growl escaped his mouth, he reached down and grabbed your foot, staring deep into your eyes, trying to understand you. You felt yourself freeze, he was fast. He stared at you in silence, you sit now in fear but anticipation, you were excited obviously, because you’ve finally met your match. He seemed to have seen what he was trying to find. 

“Hmmm.” He said, nearly a groan and let go of your foot, allowing you to continue to touch him. Oh wow that sound, you slip under the table, you saw him twitch on the bench that was provided. Crawling closer, you needed to see his cock close up, reaching out  and pulling open his leather shorts, you take the heavy meat in your hand, he wasn’t hard yet, though you could tell he was about to start. Oh he will only get bigger, you felt yourself tremble, you would need to get larger toys if you had any hope of enjoying yourself on the honeymoon. 

“Ahh, do I pass your inspection?” He said with a laugh, he must have noticed that I spent a long time just staring. “Or do you need a moment to take it all in?” You heard the uncertainty in his tone. 

“Oh sweet pea, I don’t think I can at the moment, but fuck, do I want to.” You saw his cock twitch in arousal. Best to try and find a private space in the gardens before continuing this further, you smirk and crawl back into your chair and grin in triumph, until you see the deep blush, he can't look at you. 

“But cock aside, you’re smart, and a good leader, the younger orcs I’ve met are proof of that. They did not give in to goading. make no mistake, that is why I agreed, House Bormorte is old, but with Henry at the helm it’s declining, our house will be blessed should we keep up our code of helping others, he wishes to privatize the treatments. Should we fall into greed, then we shall be cursed.” You sigh, staring out the window. 

“Ah, Braugh, mentioned you punched before he could, I want to thank you. The damage that would have done to the human would have been irreparable. I do not wish him to learn war so early on. “ The cadence of his voice bespoke of growing up in a turbulent time, it’s obvious from the scars on his body as well. 

“I do not want war either, nor do I want my house in ruin, or the people to die from preventable illnesses.” I felt myself open up, he stared at me without judgment, it felt nice for a change. You place your hand over his and stare up at him. “We align ourselves similarly, I could tell the moment our eyes met.” Borzun coughed, and looked away though the smile on his betusked face melted your heart. “Ahh...let’s go for that walk in the gardens” You stand up suddenly, body burning from just his smile. 

Sally chuckled and smirked at you. You poke your tongue out, knowing the great conversation you two will have later on. Borzun tucked himself back in, staring at you  two curiously before following you to the gardens. 

“Even in Zribor we hear of the Bormorte gardens. It’s wonderful to see such life.” He said softly, staring at the greenery in wonder. You wonder what Zribor is like, to speak of life as if it were a rare thing. “Such hard work.” He says, pushing a flower up with his thick finger with such care that it validated your choice. 

“My flower garden is this way” You say softly, quickly taking his hand and pulling him along to the back of the gardens behind thick hedge walls. Through the gate you saw the lush and well tended garden you spent so much time on, you never bring a suitor here however you could tell Borzun would appreciate it. And when you looked at his face, the awe was worth it. He Then turned to look at you, that deep understanding stare. You felt yourself shuffle against your will, he lifted your chin so you would look at him. You felt the impulse to give him a kiss, to see how it would feel with his tusks, to see how he would react. 

You were known to not shy away from these sort of feelings, and so you quickly pressed your mouth against him, pulling him down by his face. It came as a surprise, and he tensed before his large hands came to rest on your hips. You felt him chuckle against your lips, pulling you closer. Oh. you could feel him twitch in his shorts.

“Fuck.” You whine, trembling in need, pushing him deeper into the corner of the flower garden, a more private area, he allowed you to guide him to the ground where you straddle his lap. “Now, I’m sure you’ve guessed, I can be a little insatiable” You smirk down at him, pulling up your robes to your hips and wiggling until you are firmly planted on the full tent of his cock. 

“A little?” He huffed a laugh, his cheeks dark, before holding back a growl when you wiggled. “What about…” He said looking at Sally’s back as she kept guard over you, though she was respectfully distanced away. “Oh.” He realized, looking a little shy again, though he did smile. 

“Yea, right now, Im’ a lot insatiable, but usually it’s low key insatiable.” You teased. “Now can you keep up big boy?” You sighed softly as you rubbed your hind end against his now peeking, half hard from your earlier easings. You watch him reach down under you and release his cock, it sprang up and smacked you on your stomach. You feel yourself tremble, ohhhh message received, you lick your lips and look down at the now fully hard cock, you just stare at it. Oh. fuck. Yes. You get up, kneel on the ground, looking over your shoulder at him, still holding up your robes. “You won’t be able to fit...yet” you smirk at him, he looked a little stunned but the twitch and beading of precum spoke of his excitement. 

“But for now, my thighs will do.” Taking a bottle of oil you keep on you, you oil up your thighs, frangrant smell of roses wafting up to him. You heard a small growl of delight, as he pulled you back from his sitting position, making you squawck in surprise, pressing his cock between your thighs, he held you close to his large body, his strong arms tensing around you, you keep your legs closed, feeling his powerful chest against your back and seeing his large cock between your thighs, has you trembling in orgasm. It usually takes you much longer to cum, but there was something so good about this. 

“Ahh…” he groaned into your ear, his cock twich at the sight as well. He pulls your face over to his, kissing you hungrily, his hips rolling slow and steady. “Oh…. Gods.” You felt your heart flutter, you felt you could have years, decades even of this orc just from this one kiss. 

“OH man,  I wish you could fit inside, my ass yearns for it” You blurted after the kiss, he growled and gave you an even filthier kiss. 

“Human. You are making me tread a dangerous path.” He pulled away, he held your hips and gave your ass a hearty hump, causing you to cover your moan, his heavy balls smacking you. You pant behind your hand as he rolled his hips and pushed his cock between your legs, you stared transfixed at the thick meat pulled in and out from between your thighs, but it wasn’t enough. You needed a little more to be satisfied.  You reach behind you and start to tease your asshole, whining when you press your finger in. You see him spurt at your fevered act, though he hadn’t fully cummed, he was still hard and ready. His hand on your chest you try and wiggle to get your finger deeper but it wasn’t enough. You needed something more...thicker. Looking down you see his thick fingers, each one as large as a human's cock, you smirk as an idea came to you. 

“Mmmmm finger fuck me Borzun” you turn to look at him, he froze and you felt more then heard the deep growl of want. He spun you around suddenly, you felt him reach for the oil and slick a finger up. You roll your hips up against his finger, kissing him to hold back a moan. As he pushes his finger deeper within you, you wiggle in delight, whining softly. “Oh wow…” you gasp as he starts to wiggle his finger in ways that bespoke of expertise. You press against his shoulder, kissing his neck, your thighs clenched against his cock fighting the urge to open them and invite him in. Now you will wait till the honeymoon, fully prepared. You felt another finger tease your entrance, he pulled you back by your hair, just shy of rough, it was enough to make your orgasm once again. “Oh gods….” You whine and grasp behind his neck, as he moves into mouth and nibbles at your throat, mindful of his tusks scraping gently the delicate skin of your neck. You whimper in delight, letting your head fall back into his hand as he teased another finger in, giving a hum of delight at your ability to do so. You trembled, eyes up at the sky as the pleasure you felt, his hips bucking his thick cock between thighs you felt something wet splash inside your robes against your body. Ohhh...that...that was quite….substantial wetness. It was a note in your mind before Borzun nipped to get your attention, or perhaps he was as fevered as you this point. 

You coupling went on, and on until you finally collapsed against him, spent and satisfied for the first time of your life. 

He was still hard. 

“Fuck.” You say in awe, looking down at his twitching cock through your robes, you were sure you felt him cum a few times already, if fact your thighs and your body were a mess with seed. 

“Gods” you breath as he reaches down and strokes himself for you, slow and languid, pulling your robes up higher. He wasn’t done, in fact the look on his face speaks of just getting warmed up. “I just want you to cum over and in me right now” You saw his hand stop, and you look at him, confused. He stared at you in shock by your words that quickly turned to desire so unbridled and strong that if you weren’t already spent, you could have gone another round.  you saw him close his eyes to try and calm himself. 

“Lorrin…” He growled, opening his eyes again. You smirk at his flushed cheeks and lust filled eyes, pride swelling at the fact that you did this to him, your words. 

“Borzun…” You stated back, crawling a line of kisses up to his mouth. “Can you cum on me please? I need you so bad” You say sweetly, licking into his mouth. You felt something wet splash and douse your stomach all the way to your chin. “Mmmm thank you, sweet pea” You stare at him with half lidded eyes, kissing a tusk. He pants in shock, his cock starting to soften. He flops back and stares at you in wonder and awe. You watch him openly, feeling good about this, you watch him look at the mess he left on your body, eyes darkening again in want, but you felt his cock twitch half heartedly. He was about to speak before a voice interjected. 

“Gods, Lorrin, you slutty slutty person, now i’m going to have to get you a new robe. ” Sally laughed when she turned to look at you. “Happy?” She winked at you

“Honey, like you wouldn’t believe” You say, staring down at Borzun with a sweet smile on your lips, leaning over you kiss him softly on his lips. “I can’t wait till our honeymoon” You purr, causing Borzun to match your sweet smile, though slightly dazed as he stared at your messy body.  

[rock-n-roll-refugee]

Watch Your Hands

Philip Hamilton x Reader

Era: Hamiltime!

A/N: lol this is really long sorry. Hamilton movie is coming out so perfect time if for this I guess?

Edit: Hey guys! I have a plot for this that I really want to continue on, but I’d really love it if y’all tell me if you actually want a part 2 because why write it if no ones gonna read it right!

“God you’re a fox!” Dolly sighed, eyes locked on him as her knees buckled

“And y’all look pretty good in ya’ frocks. How ‘bout when I get back, we all strip down to our socks?” The Hamilton boy said into the flustered girl’s ears.

“Okaaaayyyy!” They both timidly screamed as the looked at each other in excitement. You rolled your eyes at the sound of the girls giggling loudly, not that it was their fault... it was Philip’s. You knew he would see them once and forget about them and he’ll just move on and on and the cycle repeats and no one tells him otherwise because he’s a fucking Hamilton.

You sigh and close your book and walk across the courtyard to find another quiet spot away from him. Finding a shady spot under a tree, you start to head that way to claim your spot when you feel a shoulder bump you, making you drop your book.

“Hey watch where you’re going you-” you start to say when you realize who you collided with, “George! Oh sorry I didn’t see you there...” you said changing your demeanor as you shuffled to flatten your dress.

“Oh, Y/N...” he said not looking at you directly, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Well, I was just out getting some fresh air I suppose... I thought you told me you were going out of town? You were suppose to meet my father tonight, he was so excited to finally meet you!” You said grabbing onto his bicep and resting your head on his chest.

He shuffled awkwardly, “yeah, sorry change of plans...”

“Well, since you’re here, would you be escorting me to the ball tonight? We haven’t spent much time together recently.” You said looking up at him.

“I’m sorry, I can’t tonight. I have...arrangements that I made a while ago.” He said coughing awkwardly as he lightly shrugs you off. You look down at the ground disappointed.

Suddenly, you both hear a familiar voice behind you speak, “Well if you’re not taking her, you surely wouldn’t mind if I take her? Make sure she gets there and back safely?” Philip Hamilton... You roll your eyes as he continues, smirking, “make sure she has some fun... I could take care of her if you can’t, Eacker”

George narrows his eyes and grabs your hand, “I have to leave now, but I will see you soon, my love.” He kisses your knuckles, keeping eye contact with Philip, and quickly walks away before you get to question him further.

“Your boyfriend sucks” Philip says making you snap you neck at him.

“What the hell is your deal?!” You say hitting him on to shoulder, “Why do you feel the need to constantly involve yourself in everything? Do you realize the world doesn’t revolve around you or is your head too fucking big?”

He only chuckles at your frustration. You groan at him and start to walk away.

“See you tonight beautiful” he shouts as you, “and wear something pretty... Ms. Jefferson.”

~

“You’re going tonight. End of story.” Your father states not looking up from his work.

“But daaad!” You said stomping, “George isn’t going and the Hamilton boy is going to be there. God knows what stunt he’s going to pull and I really don’t want to deal with that tonight.”

“Quit whining and suck it up. You’ve dealt with him fine enough up until now.” He says getting up from his desk. He was wearing a velvety violet robe that was gifted to him from a lady he met in France. You father walks up to you and gives you a little noogie, he chuckles at your pouting face, “I know you hate him... I hate his dad, but I have learned to deal with him at least in the office. It’s very important to me that you go tonight, the Monroe’s are expecting a Jefferson to attend and since I have a meeting, you’re my last hope, so we can’t disappoint, right?” He gives you a puppy dog look as you roll your eyes.

“Fine. But you owe me... big time!” You said as he smiled widely.

“Good. Now go get ready my dear, there’s a surprise up in your room and Sally will be up there soon to help you tidy up.” He said scruffling your hair before he went back to his desk.

You opened the door to your room, revealing the extravagant pink dress laid out in your bed. You recognized it as your mother’s. You’ve never seen her wear it, but there was a painting in the library of her and your dad when they were young where she was wearing that dress. You’ve always looked at the painting and imagined yourself in the dress. It had a very wide neckline that was almost off the shoulders with the whole upper chest part covered with white lace with faux rose accents here and there. The rest of the dress was silky pink with another rose on your hip. You noticed a small paper resting on the dress. It read:

“Y/N I’ve seen how you admire this dress your mother wore in the painting in the library. It was one of my favorite gowns that she wore... she always looked so beautiful in it and I know she would have most definitely loved to see you in it. I always argued you were too young to wear her gowns, but now I wish that you would have, so she could have seen you in one of her dresses before she passed. Well, I found this dress in one of her trunks so maybe that’ll be an incentive for you to go to the ball.

P.S. we need to make sure we get a painting of you in the dress with Mr. Eacker when I finally meet him.”

You chuckle at his added note and put the letter on your vanity. You heard a soft knock at your door.

“Come in” you said sitting down in front of your mirror. Sally walked in with two other girls, “Oh, Sally! You can take a break, I think I can manage”

You never liked that your family owned slaves. For some reason it always made you feel uneasy when you saw them, but you didn’t understand why, you were born with it being normal in your household so you didn’t get why the idea of buying and selling people to work for you didn’t sit well with you, but nevertheless, you treated them courteously when they helped you unlike many other slave owning families. 

“Your father asked me to make you up for tonight. I can’t go back on my word.” She said smiling at you in the mirror, holding your shoulders. You have always been the closest to Sally, seeing that she almost became a mother figure to you since your own mother passed (and your father may or may not have had an affair with her), but you always looked up to her and didn’t see her at all as a slave, “...I also heard the Hamilton boy is going to attend... everyone in this town knows he envies you and Mr. Eacker.”

You shot straight up at what she whispered in your ear, “Sally!” You said with wide eyes, the other two girls giggled lightly, “he is the reason for my hesitation to attend. The last thing that I want is to interact with that fool tonight.”

“Alright, whatever you say m’lady” she said with a small smile on her face. She starts brushing your hair

“What are you smiling at, Sally?” You said chuckling

“Oh you wouldn’t want to hear it.”

“Now I want to hear it more! Do tell...” you said facing her like you were two little girls about to gossip.

“Well, don’t get mad but, I think you and Philip would look very good together.” She said nonchalantly, “I have always had my doubts about Mr. Eacker, but you and Philip have suprisingly a lot more in common than you think...”

“Ugh I know if I think about me and him for one second longer I might just vomit!” You said turning back and making a face. Sally laughed at you and continued to fix your hair.

~

Sally and the girls finished you off with a cloud of perfume, making you cough as you inhaled. You picked up the long amulet necklace your parents gave you when you were young from your vanity and slipped on long white silk gloves as Sally ushered you to the large mirror on your wall. You clipped on your necklace as you looked at yourself for the first time tonight.

“You’re really going to be the center of attention tonight ma’am” one of the girls said, flattening the silk on your dress. You chuckled at her and rolled your eyes, grabbing her hand.

“You did too good, my intention was to lay low.” You said admiring their work.

“Thank us later,” Sally said nudging you a little, “your carriage is waiting outside and I’m sure your father wants to see you before he leaves... and say hi to Mr. Hamilton to me.” She winks and you respond with a fake gasp.

“There she is!” Your dad says as you walk down the staircase, “Wow, your mom would have loved to see you right now. To think you were once half the size of this dress! Aw... you just look so, grown up now... my little baby is growing up into a beautiful woman and I’m getting so old and-”

“Dad! Don’t do this again,” you said interrupting his mini breakdown, “you act like I’m not going to see you in 5 hours”

“Yeah, whatever. Let me have my moment sometimes!”

You laugh at him as Sally hands you a thick coat and purse.

“Don’t have too much fun!” Your dad yells as the door of the carriage closes once you’re completely inside.

“I promise you I won’t!”

The carriage ride was quiet and you wished George was here with you. Not for conversation, no he was never good at holding one, but to show off. You hated the fact that you had to walk into the ball alone knowing Philip was there. Having George on your side was an extra layer of security against him.

~

Scanning through the plethora of silk dresses and velvet suits, you attempted to find any sort of familiar face. Being all alone in a ball like this was beyond embarrassing so you rushed to the first person you recognized.

“Harriet? Hey it’s me Y/N!” You said trying to grab her attention. You didn’t know Harriet very much, nor did you like her... at all, but she seemed to be the only person you recognized.

“Y/N?” She paused. “Oh! Y/N! I can’t believe it’s you! I haven’t seen you in forever!” She engulfs you in a smothering hug, both of your gowns squishing together. You knew she was lying, she didn’t recognize you, but you were insanely greatful that she was playing along whether it was for her sake or yours.

“You look amazing Y/N! Wow and that dress! Don’t you try to steal the spotlight from me tonight!” She jokes.

“And look at you! I love your dress, where did you-”

“Oh my god...” she inturrupted, looking across the main room. Walking in from the hall is none other than Philip Hamilton, with two young ladies on each of his elbows, “shit... those are some lucky girls. What would I give to be them!”

“Sure...”

Philip confidently walks in grabbing the attention of half the girls who see him, you seethe with anger watching his cocky stride. How could anyone be attracted to that?!

“He’s just so perfect...” she sighs eyeing him as he attempts to charm every person in the room.

“He’s a scoundrel, like his dad.”

“Dangerous... that’s hot! But I bet that’s not where the resemblance stops” she says smirking back at you. You knew what she was talking about, there was a rumor going around when you all were in boarding school about his dad having a huge... well, penis. Harriet bites her lip and grabs your hand, walking away.

“Wait, where are we going?” You asked as you were being dragged through the crowd.

“To Philip, duh!” Your eyes widen, “I’m going to shoot my shot.”

Before you can respond, Philip is already in view. And he’s already noticed you. His eyes widen as he scans you from head to toe making your face redden like a tomato. His face brightens as he realized you’re headed his way and starts towards the two of you.

“Hey um, Harriet?” You ask anxiously pulling her back into the crowd a little, “it’s getting stuffy in here I think I’m going to step outside for a second. But I’ll catch up with you later!” You release from her grasp and rush out before she can respond.

You step out into the balcony, farthest from the main ballroom. Breathing in the crisp night air, you take a deep breath and sigh. You look out at the garden below you try to clear your head. When you caught sight of Philip you had the worst feeling you had ever had. Attraction. You couldn’t tell earlier, but the sick to the stomach feeling you felt around him, for the first time, wasn’t pure hatred. He just looked so good in his suit, it complemented him so well... and his hair, he always wore his stupid school hat and his hair was always so greasy, but when you saw him, you couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to run your hands through his hair. And his smile. The way his face lightened you when he saw you made your heart soar. You groaned shaking your head. You rubbed your temples thinking, why? Why now? Why are all these emotions being thrown at me now? It has to be the fault of your cycle. You plop yourself down on the stone bench and run your hands through your hair muttering,

“Stupid Hamilton boy...”

“Yes?”

You swore that was in your head, but it couldn’t be. That voice was too real. You freeze, trying not to make sudden movements, hoping that he wouldn’t see you in the dark.

“Just cause you’re not moving, doesn’t mean I can’t see you.”

Great.

“How long have been standing there?” You say quietly, breaking the short silence.

“Long enough to know that you, of all people, are thinking about me.” He says walking towards you figure. Without even looking at him you can already tell he’s smirking. What a cocky bastard.

“Of course you jump straight to that. Why are you following me around anyways?” You growl, glaring at him only making him laugh.

“Because you look beautiful...” as he says that you feel your stomach do flips. His stare is pouring down on you and you try your hardest to not to make it obvious that he is the only thing on your mind, “Glad you took my advice to heart, that dress is smokin’...”

You roll your eyes and stand up intending on walking away when he grabs your wrist pulling you back.

“I came out here to ask a pretty girl for a dance,” he smiles at your scowling face and you can’t help but relax, “please don’t make my trip all the way out here worthless”

He gives you a pouty face, making you chuckle a little.

“Fine. Only so I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like you usually are.” You joke, glad the mood is light. He leaves a kiss to your knuckle and links your arms, leading you back to the ballroom.

“I like your smile. You should smile more.” he says, looking forward.

“What? Don’t tell me what to do.” You say scoffing.

“No, that’s not what I meant I- I just wish I could see you smile more. You have a beautiful smile Y/N, that’s all. No need to get all defensive” he says as he stands in front of you. He places his hand on the small of your back and you hold his shoulder as your opposite hands intertwine. The two of you begin to join the dance. You smirk and purposely step on his toe.

“Ouch, Hey! What was that for?” He says lightly hopping on one foot.

“Oh, my bad. It was only an accident, no need to get all defensive” you say mocking him.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty, little girl. I wouldn’t accept this unladylike behavior from anyone else.” He jokes making you snort a little.

“Yeah right, you’d take any damsel who would throw themselves at you.”

“Oh yeah?” He says giving you a challenging look. You suddenly realize how close his face is to yours making you notice the small details of his face. His sharp cheekbones, his deep brown eyes, his long black eyelashes, his stupid toothy smile that somehow manages to make your knees go weak, and God, those little freckles that sprinkled his smooth skin, you couldn’t stop your mind from wondering where else he had freckles. You are lost in the trance of his face until you feel his hand that was on your back, slither too far down for your liking.

“Watch your hand there, Hamilton. Before I break them off myself.” you snap, making him hold both his hands up in surrender, shrugging.

“Sorry, I thought you would be too distracted by my face to notice- Ow!” You stepped on his foot again to shut him up, “okay okay... at least I’m willing to admit that I’m hypnotized by yours anyways.”

By now your noses are practically touching. You feel the blush rise up to your cheeks when you feel his hot breath, but you bite your lip to keep a neutral face.

“Hey don’t bite your lip...” he says making your gaze rise up into his eyes, “...that’s my job”

Suddenly you turn your head to the side, feeling the urge to close the space between you two. Philip holds back not wanting to force a kiss, and your lips almost reach his until...

To be continued!

A/N: I’m super late to the Hamilton fandom, but it just so happened that the Hamilton movie was announced today so I guess I’m early and late... part 2?

[exkernal]

My Only Peace: 3/?

William insists he stay the night, and after a token protest, Nelson agrees. To his surprise, William leads him to his old bedroom.

"But it's the master," he says, confused. "It should be yours."

"Didn't feel right," Will mutters, and that's all the explanation he'll give.

It's exactly as Nelson left it two years ago, with one notable addition on the mantelpiece: a framed photograph of the original Minutemen at the height of their glory.

Nelson stares at the youthful faces of his comrades. They're all old or dead or disgraced now. He sees his younger self, brimming with confidence that bordered on the absurd, standing close to Hooded Justice, who looked like a god among men. Even in the black and white photograph, his desire for closeness is obvious. How he couldn't resist the back pats and shoulder clasps, or any of the other myriad of socially acceptable touches that always lingered a little too long.

Little wonder that their relationship became an open secret among the Minutemen.

Nelson sinks into the old familiar bed, but he already knows he'll have trouble sleeping that night. After all, this was the very place where he and Will made love for the first time.

"Making love" was probably not the right term for it. He'd lusted after William from the moment he first appeared in the New York Gazette. At first he told himself that it was simply admiration, but it was the beginnings of a school boy crush, the kind that used to keep him awake at night in the boarding school dormitory, intrigued and disturbed at the same time.

After his brief meeting at the Reeves' home, he reached two conclusions: that young Officer Reeves was not a simple courier but Hooded Justice himself, and that there was a spark between them.

He cautioned himself. He'd become quite adept at recognizing the subtle cues that men put out, but he'd been wrong before. One of those wrongs resulted in a black eye and cracked rib, which he passed off to his fellow Marines as the result of a drunken fall after a night partying. Luckily, the other officer was too embarrassed to tell their superior, or else Nelson would've lost more than his pride.

It goes without saying that Will wasn't what he expected--and truthfully, Nelson's only experiences with black people were as servants--but it didn't take long for him to fall head over heels.

To stave off the early morning awkwardness, Will suggests they go out to brunch. The diner is similar to their old meeting place, though slightly more upscale. IT reminded him, bitterly, of their last conversation together.

Don't think about that now, he tells himself. Not when William is actually speaking to him.

"Don't worry," Will mutters, opening up a newspaper. "If anyone asks, we're two retired cops catching up."

Nelson bristles a little. "I'm not worried."

And he's not. There was a time when that's all he'd be thinking about, but those days are long gone.

"Isn't that your friend?" Will says, jabbing at a black and white photo of Adrian Veidt. "Ozy-man-mouthful-of-a-name?"

He snorts. "I wouldn't call him a friend exactly. We've barely spoken since my, uh, bout of foolishness in '66."

The waitress brings them their coffee. Nelson doesn't wait for the scalding beverage to cool off. He's too eager to do something with his hands.

"Speaking of Veidt," he says, "he told me an interesting theory about you."

"Oh yeah?" Will raises an eyebrow.

"He investigated Hooded Justice's disappearance before I ever formed the Crimebusters. Apparently, it led him straight to Eddie Blake. Eddie mistook him for a criminal, and beat him up."

William chuckles. "You don't say."

A smile twists at Nelson's lips. "Adrian concluded, based on your documented feud, that Eddie killed you back in '55."

His expression darkens. "As if that sniveling little pissant  could ever get the drop on me. I should've snapped his worthless neck after he attacked Sally."

"That probably would've been for the best," Nelson agrees. "I thought it best to let Adrian believe his theory--after all, you don't want the worlds smartest man on your case. "

"More like the world's best PR man," Will mutters.

Nelson clears his throat. "Have you read Hollis's book?"

"Might've skimmed it in an airport," he says breezily. "Why?"

"According to Hollis, you were an East German strong man with, um, strange proclivities whose body was found in Boston Harbor in 1955."

Will's whole body shook when he laughed. Making Will genuinely laugh-- not a wry chuckle or sardonic snort, but a real honest to God laugh-- was so rare that Nelson always savored the sound like it was the New York orchestra. He joins in.

The waitress brings them their plates of bacon and eggs, and their laughter dies down.

"It's funny how they all thought my costume was some sex thing," William says, voice light, but there's a slight menace to his words. "Think that says more about them than me."

He's dying to ask William the meaning behind his costume. That was one thing they never discussed during their relationship. Yet he hesitates. Maybe they didn't discuss it for a reason.

"Nothing against Hollis," Will goes on, "but he never knew when to keep his mouth shut."

"I had to call him on the verge of tears to stop him from publishing more details about...about us," Nelson says. It hadn't been the verge of tears, but William doesn't need to know that.

He and Will rarely broached the topic of "us," never defining the relationship that consumed Nelson's life for sixteen years. They had to keep it secret, for one. For another, Will was a married father for most of it. Friendship is what he called it in his will. "He was a very good friend," is how he explained it whenever anyone questioned him about Hooded Justice. He always hated it, just a little bit, but that hatred paled in comparison to the terror of being found out.

Will frowns. "Yeah. Sally wasn't too happy with some of the stuff he said."

"Mm," Nelson goes. "That's a bit of a pot-kettle situation. Sally basically outed me in her latest interview, without naming any names. It's was still abundantly clear who she meant, though."

"She probably didn't think it mattered, since we all thought you were dead." Will says that last part with an edge to his voice.

"I don't really blame Sally," he says, eager to avoid that conversation again. Keep it light, Nelly. "Did I use that term correctly? Outed?"

"How should I know?" Will says through a mouthful of eggs.

"You're the one who lived in San Francisco."

"Yeah, but I wasn't hanging around that scene. Not that much, anyway. I know as much about the counterculture as you do."

Nelson feels warm, and it has nothing to do with his coffee (which is lukewarm now, anyway). He has no claim on Will's heart, and it certainly isn't his business if he's had any dalliances (Lord knows Nelson hasn't refrained). Still. He's glad all the same.

Will glances at the window. "You know, it's a good thing for the young ones coming up. That they have a community that's putting up a fight. Maybe it won't be as hard for them as it was for us."

He's surprised that Will's bringing it up. This is the closest he's ever heard his former lover come to acknowledging that he was a man involved with men. Not that he ever expected him to; after all, Nelson rarely verbalized it either, thanks to his years of keeping it secret. Even now, as an old nameless man with nothing left to lose, he couldn't completely let go of his fear.

"Yes," he mumbles, "it is."

Will insists on paying. "Technically it's your money," Will says when Nelson resists. Now that brunch is over, he's not sure what to do with himself. At the diner, they had a good report going. But now what happens when there's nothing to do? Will William come to his senses and get sick of the tag-along?

"Wanna see how I spent your money?" Will asks. They journey through New York's mobbed streets, as much an adventure as his days soldiering through the jungle.

Will explains that he auctioned off the Minutemen memorabilia  for the Southern Poverty Law Center. "That was a good idea that you had," he comments, "so I did it. Altogether, it came too nearly a million."

William doesn't mention the one piece of memorabilia he's kept, so Nelson doesn't either.

They stop at a grand old movie theater, the kind that was popular when Nelson was a boy. It looks as if it's been recently touched up, casting an impressive figure. William looks at him expectantly.

"You bought a theater?" Nelson says. Well, it makes sense; Will was always a cinephile.

"And fixed it up," he says proudly. "When I first started working here, it was a dump. Now it's the most profitable historical theater in the borough."

William gives him the tour.

"We play all kinds of films here. The modern stuff, but we also show classics. There's theme nights, too. Some of the kids get all dressed up for some of the showings, but I don't know much about that. If we hurry, there's a showing I want you to see."

William takes him to a projector room. There's a smattering of people in the theater below, maybe a dozen scattered along the wide rows. A young white man with wiry long black hair sits by the projector, loading up a reel.

"Mr. Reeves?" he says, more politely than his appearance would suggest. He looks curiously at Nelson.

"You can take an early lunch break, Don," Will says. "I've got it from here."

"Thank you, Mr. Reeves!" the youth says. He doesn't hesitate to take him up on the offer.

The movie starts. It's a black and white, silent picture that takes Nelson back to his childhood. A man chases another on horseback, his face obscured by a hood.

"This is that film you always talked about," Nelson says. "Trust in the Law, was it?"

"I'm surprised you remember," Wilal says. Nelson's a little offended by that. But only a little, seeing what an ass he'd been before.

He also remembers that a young Will was watching this movie when a race riot broke out in Tulsa. William mentioned it once, early in their relationship. At the time, Nelson privately assumed that Will was exaggerating; he was only a child when it happened, so surely it couldn't have been as bad as he said. Or perhaps, if it was bad, than it was somehow...justified. Now, the memory sickens him. He wishes he could go back in time and knock some sense into his younger self.

"Didn't it inspire you to become Hooded Justice?" he asks. The flicking black and white light casts shadows on their faces.

"Partly," Will says. He looks directly at Nelson. "I never did tell you what made me put on the mask that first time."

Nelson feels cold. There's a shift in Will's tone that seems to change the very air around them. It feels ominous.

"It started with Cyclops," he says with a faraway look in his eyes. "Though I didn't know it at the time. I arrested a white man for throwing a Molotov cocktail at a Jewish deli. When I brought him in, some other officers took him off my hands, saying they'd book him. Days later, I saw the same man walking free.

"I was told not to question it. But I couldn't let it go. So one night, when I was walking home, three of my fellow officers jumped me in an alley. They beat me, forced me into their car, and drove to a secluded area. They tied my hands together, put a bag over my head and a noose around my neck, and strung me up from a tree."

"What?!" Nelson gasps. His hands ball into fists, clenching his pants leg. How is this the first time he's hearing about it?

"I struggled and kicked. I felt myself chocking to death. I was so sure I was going to die. But they cut me down. I was a crumpled mess on the ground, sputtering and coughing, when the officer yanked the bag off. He got right up in my face like this," William leans so close that his breath's in Nelson's ear.

He whispers what the officer told him that night, directly into his ear. Nelson feels sick to his stomach. He wants this to stop now. But willful ignorance won't change what's been done to Will.

Will leans back. "I walked home in a trance, with the noose around my neck and the bag in my hands. Couldn't tell you what I was thinking, even if I wanted to. Guess you could call it being on autopilot. As I got close to home, I heard a lady screaming in an alleyway. A couple was being robbed. I didn't think. I ripped eye holes in the bag and put it back on. Then I beat the robbers to a bloody pulp. They weren't the ones who wronged me, but it felt so good to act. To have power. To bring justice, even if it was justice for something as small as a mugging.

"The next day, I saw it in the newspaper. They called me a hero. And well, you know the rest."

William looks off at the screen, where the townsfolk cheer for Bass Reeves.

"William..." Nelson says weakly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Without looking, he says, "Would it have made a difference back then?"

He wants to say yes. Yes, of course it would have. If Will had told Nelson about being lynched, for God's sake, then Nelson would've cared. Even when he was at his most racist, he still would've believed the man he loved. Wouldn't he?

But then...he'd had doubts about Tulsa. He hadn't believed Will then. William tried to tell him many things over the years, tried to open his eyes, yet Nelson remained willfully blind until it was too late. Until Will's absence finally caused him to reevaluate those beliefs. So if William had told him about being lynched in 1939, would it have been enough to finally make Nelson change? Or would it have been another Tulsa?

"I don't know," he croaks, mouth dry.

"Yeah, well, this way we never have to know the answer," Will mutters.

The words resonate with Nelson. If they knew the answer, then well, maybe they wouldn't be having this conversation right now. There were some things that William could never forgive. Perhaps they both needed the deniability.

Hesitantly, Nelson puts his hand on William's knee. William lets him. "I'm so sorry, Will. I'm sorry it happened, and I'm sorry that you couldn't tell me. I should have been there for you. I should've...God, I wish I could change so much. And I want to kill those officers."

William finally looks at him.

"Don't worry," he grunts, "I killed most of them, the night of the warehouse fire. When I called you about Cyclops mind control."

"Oh," Nelson mumbles. Regret hits him all over again. Why hadn't he listened to William back then? To think how different there lives might have been if he had. "I should've listened to you. I should've helped you get the bastards. I'm--I'm sorry I was such a racist little prick."

"I always know you're serious when you start cussing," Will says wryly.

Nelson snorts. It comes out more like a sniffle.

"Don't tell me you're crying again," Will says, but he can't help it. The nicer William is to him, the worse he feels. We wishes Will would scream at him or strike him, anything that would make them even. The house doesn't feel like enough. The money isn't enough.

"I'm sorry," he says, again, rubbing at his tear-stained cheeks. "I didn't--I'm not--"

"You're not making any sense," he says. "Nelson, calm down."

"I just want you know," he says shakily, "that it wasn't the mask."

"What?"

"It wasn't the mask I fell in love with. That's not true. Maybe I didn't show it the right way, maybe I was too selfish and blind to treat you the way you deserved, but it was never the mask. I really did love you, Will. Please believe me."

"Nelly," Will says softly.There's no anger in his beautiful brown eyes, no hatred. They're softer than usual, showing something that Nelson won't dare read.

Will's hand cups the back of his head, fingers gripping his hair in a way that's a little rough and a little tender, just like he remembers. For a moment, they stay like that, faces bent towards each other, eyes locked on one another.

He's not sure who initiates it, but when their lips meet it's surprisingly gentle. Their first time was all raw passion; their last, bittersweet. This is something new entirely. William pulls him closer, deepening the kiss, as the movie plays in the background.

Nelson can't bring himself to care about anything else.

[ragstitched]

( marilyn lima, demifemale, she/they )╰ ✧ ˔ ⭒ magic is in the air ! oh wait - that’s just our newest neighbor, SALLY FINKELSTEIN, the TWENTY-FIVE year old SEAMSTRESS. they’ve been relocated from pastoral city, and so far the locals claim that they’re SENSIBLE and DIFFIDENT, just like SALLY from THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS. if you ask me, they seem like the type to enjoy THE STEADY THRUM OF A SEWING MACHINE IN USE & BUNDLES OF HERBS HUNG TO DRY IN THE WARMTH OF YOUR KITCHEN. apparently, they are RELIEVED about entering rome pines, and i don’t think their power of CLAIRVOYANCE will help them this time. let’s just hope they can adjust to the new neighborhood…⭒˔ ╮{ ooc: honey, 22, EST, she/her }

hello again , my dears ! it’s honey again , bringing you all my dearest sally . some basic info / backstory can be found beneath the cut . please note that there are mentions of  parent death , death , mental illness , emotional abuse , & depression. if there is any other potentially triggering content that i’ve not tagged , please don’t hesitate to message me !

so , to start , sally actually was not effected by the fire in pastoral city in terms of losing her home or forcibly having to move as a result of it . she moved to rome pines around age nine shortly after the untimely death of her parents due to an accident . she would go on to move in with her estranged grandfather . he lived in an old manor on the fringes of bald mountain , alone up until sally’s arrival .

her grandfather , doctor percival finkelstein , was an arrogant & unstable man ; though he’d never deigned to receive a diagnosis , insistent that he had no faults , and certainly no symptoms of illness , he suffered from narcissistic personality disorder . he was a particularly controlling father and used manipulation & emotional abuse keep sally’s mother under his thumb . as a result , her mother had fled once she’d turned 18 & had kept him at arms length , especially after the birth of her daughter . his behavior had changed very little since that point , and he treated his granddaughter much the same .

living with him was similar to living with a warden : he was a severe man who expected sally to do as she was told the moment she was told to , and not a half second later . if she took to long , or did not perform to his liking , she was punished . if he said she wasn’t going out , as he frequently did , then she wasn’t going out & that was final . what he hadn’t accounted for , however , was sally’s determination . she would eventually find ways to creep past his watchful gaze , and would often sneak out at all hours of the night , returning in the early hours of the morning .

if dr. finkelstein caught her in the act , however , her punishment was swift . often he’d lock her in an old closet in pitch darkness and leave her there for hours on end under the guise of giving her time to think about what she’d done ; during these times sally would often sit in quietude and daydream about the day when she’d finally get away . when he returned , she’d put on an act of repentance that played to his ego . in this way , her rebellion was often quiet . there were moments where she’d talk back to her grandfather , but they were few & far in between . sally found that sometimes the best course of action was simply to bite her tongue and let him burn himself out so that she wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences .

as she often wasn’t allowed out save for school or other necessities , she found her own forms of entertainment at home . she could spend hours going through her grandfather’s old medical & biology textbooks , and she loved to work with her hands . her mother had taught her the basics of sewing before her death , and she’d often exhaust time by stitching together old blankets into something new . she would sneak flowers in from outside to dry and press between worn pages of a heavy thesaurus , which she kept hidden beneath her bed . 

as sally grew older , so too did percival , and his health & independence began to drift down a steady decline . he began to require more help at home than the chores he regularly tasked her with , and before long , she played more at being his caretaker than she did at being his granddaughter . it played into his hand rather favorably , unfortunately ; sally often felt overcome with guilt in regards to being there to assist him . he would frequently manipulate her by using the situation to his advantage . for instance , if sally insisted she had to go out for some reason that night - say it was school related , as that was often an exception , percival would turn and remind her that if she wasn’t there to make dinner , he’d be left to go hungry until she returned home . he would also regularly remind her that he was the reason she wasn’t on the street , or stuck in foster care , and that she ought to be grateful to him . it reinforced the feelings of guilt & responsibility she felt to him , and left her quite trapped .

up until the age of 22 , sally sacrificed much of her own happiness & social life in order to meet percival’s constant demands . he passed that winter , and in his wake , sally was left behind in the old manor with her memories . her grief was confusing ; a combination of equal parts relief , sadness , and you guessed it : more guilt .

she still resides in the old manor & is currently working on having it renovated . while the space houses some bad memories , she has high hopes that she can turn it into something that feels more like her home , and make happier memories within it . she used a portion of her inheritance money to purchase an empty storefront on the storybrooke strip and has recently opened up her very own boutique ! she sells her own products , mostly unique handmade / custom clothing , pieces of artwork / embroidery , and also partners with other local artisans to sell their products for a small percentage of the profit .

sally is noticeably sheltered & reserved . she was raised to be meek & obedient , seen and not heard . she still retains these behaviors , even if they sometimes frustrate her , as they’re what she’s known for years - she’s still figuring out who she is , and who she wants to be . she’s doing her best to break out of the shell she’d grown to protect herself , but as with anything else , it isn’t as easy as snapping ones’ fingers and having it be done . she trusts her intuition and is grateful for her independence , though sometimes this is a result of her being too afraid to ask for help . at first glance she might read as being timid or too distant , but truthfully she’s quite brave and ambitious .

her power of clairvoyance is a tricky thing , indeed . it’s not as simple as simply just knowing the future , or having a vision as clear as day to provide insight . her clairvoyancy manifests itself in a few notable ways : she will sometimes have flashes of a vision or a fleeting emotion or thought , though they’re rarely complete . if it’s related to an unknown person or situation , it can leave her quite puzzled ; sometimes she’s able to put the little pieces together and figure something out about the situation . she also tends to have strange dreams that seem very lucid about current , past , or future events . sometimes she just starts vibrating with this sudden anxiety and she’s like . . . is this just my usual anxiety or is something up

huge worrier . also a mom friend . she’s very used to putting others’ needs before her own , which isn’t good , but it’s normal to her and it’s not a habit she’s yet to break . it��s easier to care for others than to focus on herself .

she doesn’t care much for coffee , but she ADORES a good cup of tea. she’s also a pretty bad insomniac - sometimes her visions keep her awake , or she’ll wake up from one of her lucid dreams and be totally unable to sleep afterwards . the majority of her time spent learning to crochet , knit , sew & embroider took place during the dead of night because she couldn’t sleep , and she likes having something to do with her hands .

owns two cats and a snake !

if u see a spelling or grammar error no u didn’t . i am probably forgetting things but anyway

[rainbows-fanfics]

Two Dearest Friends (Chapter 21)

Summary:

Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, meets Sally, a ragdoll created by Dr. Finklestein. A friendship blossoms between them as he introduces her to the world outside of her tower. Sally is falling for him as their relationship grows into something more, and Jack finds the same is happening to him.

A story where the Christmas incident never happens, and Jack and Sally find their happiness on their own.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally

---

The week goes by incredibly fast, and that's because of how much time she spends of her afternoon reading. She slips the covers back on the books in case Finklestein stops by her room and checks on her, which he does multiple times and even asks her about the material. She manages to slip by attempting to sound as sophisticated as possible and the Doctor, thankfully, leaves her alone. But when Friday comes, she spends a lot of time thinking of how her evening with Jack will transpire. She has lots of questions about Romeo and Juliet, but the shy part of her makes her wonder if he'd even find them worth answering. She twiddles with her fingers as she waits for Finklestein's meal to cook. She slipped some Deadly Nightshade in it beforehand, so the moment he takes a bite, she will be out of there. Her gaze finds its way out of the nearby window and she notices dusk is approaching soon. She assembles the meal on a plate, careful to make sure none of the nightshade is showing within. Once that is done, she comes outside and places his plate in front of him at the table. Finklestein notices right away she isn't having any. "You aren't hungry, my dear?" She shakes her head. "Not tonight." "Ah. So tell me, then..." He picks a piece off from his plate. "How have the books been? Do you like them? They're from Skellington, so I expect you do." "Oh, yes. They're very interesting." She replies, eager for him to take a bite already. "What is the quantum theory, Sally?" He looks up from the piece before it even reaches his mouth, looking at her expectantly. She twiddles with her thumbs as she thinks of an answer. She really hasn't the slightest clue. But it's bound to deal with science and...stuff...right? "I-It's a theory. A scientific one." She clarifies nervously. "Doctor, why don't you take a bite of tonight's dinner and tell me how it tastes? I spent quite a long time on it." "Don't avoid the question." He points his fork at her accusingly. "Your eyes have been glued to those pages for days now, girl! You can't tell me you don't know what it is?" She bites her lip. "Well, it takes me awhile to just...piece it all together. There's so many com-components to it. It's such a complicated theory-" Her rambling doesn't matter in the end, because in the midst of her explanation, the Doctor had taken a bite. It was only a matter of seconds until his head slammed on the table and he passed out. That's because of how much she added. She remembers practically emptying out the bottle into his food. She grabs a blanket and drapes it over his figure, leaving him and the Tower as quietly as she can. --------------------------- She finds Jack sitting on the hill already, resting his skull in his hands and gazing in the direction of Halloween Town. It looks as if he's absorbed in his thoughts, but as she comes through the gates, his face changes the moment he sees her. She had no chance of sneaking up on him as she had planned, for he positioned himself to the entrance, so she approaches the Spiral Hill with an embarrassed smile. But he thinks nothing of her partial lateness or sudden appearance, as his eye sockets go half-lidded the closer she gets to him. "There you are," He greets warmly. She brushes her hair behind her back. "Hi, Jack..."

She makes no hesitation as she climbs the hill and joins him by his side, sitting close to him and facing the same direction as he is. It's new for her to be looking towards the gate. She can finally see the buildings of the town for herself, admiring the irregular patterns of them. It leaves a lot to stare at, and as she gapes at all the interesting figures as well as the night sky filled with endless a mounts of stars, the skeleton watches her from the side. "I left early," He mentions. "You're almost always here before me, so I thought I would've caught you here." "I'm sorry about that..." She apologizes quietly. "The Doctor was being a little difficult before I left." "What did he do now?" "He asked me about the quantum theory." She admits sadly. "The Deadly Nightshade kicked in before I could answer." He gives her an amused smile. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time it saved you, wouldn't it?" She giggles at his comment. He chuckles along with her before his gaze is directed back to the town. She follows his sight to look at the dark buildings again. It's hard for her to believe how many there are. Especially out of town like she had seen...it was even harder to come to terms with the fact that Jack reigned all of it. Everything she sees, he practically rules over. It was...incredible to think about, and how seemingly lucky she is to be involved with the man who seems to have it all. Yet it could affect him less. That was another thing she had to admire about him. "You see my house there?" He suddenly points in its direction. She follows his finger and nods. "Yes, I do." "It overlooks the town. I can see most, if not, everything." He moves his arm. "And behind it...beyond my garden, I mean. There's your Tower. Right over there." "I see it." "All this time I've been looking at things in one direction," He rests his skull in both of his hands again. "I've been overlooking the Town for so long that it all looks the same to me. I can never find something new in it. But just last night did I finally look at things I hadn't thought twice of before." "What do you mean?" "I can see your house through my window. You've always been a glance away from me, Sally, and I hadn't noticed it until now. It felt like such a wake-up call to me." "I can see your house through mine all the time," Her cheeks heat as she finishes, "I look at it as much as I can, actually." "...You do?" She goes quiet, unsure of what to say. Now he's going to think she's some sort of creep for looking at his mansion all the time...she scolds herself for even letting that slip. He can tell how worked up she is getting and taps her shoulder carefully. She quickly turns towards him but finds that understanding smile on his skull again. It assures her instantly without any words, and she no longer feels embarrassed. "I guess, then, my confession won't seem so disgraceful..." He looks away from her to fixate his sockets on the small silhouette of her tower. "I've been looking at your place ever since I found it. Sometimes I find you at your window and...I just wonder what you're doing. You make me very curious." She understands. She shares that same curiosity, but with him. She, too, gazes at his figure and wonders what he can be doing, or what he can be thinking. What can be going on in his mind when she's not there to hear it. She relates to that feeling all too well. But she fears to say it, for if the words left her tongue, her heart would come with it and possibly burst out of her chest. She is overwhelmed with emotions of similarity, and he spares her the effort by changing the subject. "By the way, what did you think of the books I sent to you? Have you read them yet?" She releases the breath she'd been holding. "I finished Romeo and Juliet. I thought it was quite a tragedy." "Isn't it? That's why I adore that book so much. I love reading about death. That's my favorite scene too - when they both kill themselves." She smiles at his enthusiasm. She thought he'd have said something about the love portion about the story, but it was so much like him to focus on something like death. She knows that, now. But she's also blessed with the knowledge that he appreciates the romantic moments as well - that's something she wants to pry at while she's at it. The questions stir in her mind from the other night. She admits, "I quite...liked Romeo and Juliet's relationship. It seemed so natural to me. I felt like they were really in love." He goes quiet. She looks over and notices that he's thinking. She pokes at his side, beckoning him to snap out of it and look at her in surprise. Leaning closer, she asks, "-What did you think of Romeo and Juliet's relationship?" "I don't think they were ever in love," He replies. "Really? Why?" "To me, love is a little more than meeting someone and deciding right away that you want to marry them," He replies. "Romeo decided he was in love with Juliet even if he didn't know a single thing about her. I think that tells you that he was infatuated with Juliet - not in love." She finds herself genuinely curious. "What's the difference?" "Infatuation is a false sense of long-term love, I'd say." He shrugs. "It's where you feel strongly for someone, but it's only shortly lived. Like how Romeo felt about Rosaline. He was quick to change his 'love' for her the moment he saw Juliet." She slowly nods. "I think you're right...But I like the idea that someone would go as far as dying for the sake of someone they love. Even if Romeo's wasn't genuine..." "You and me both," He winks. Before she has a moment to react, his hand snakes his way into hers, and her knees buckle when she feels that squeeze again. Then her mind races as another question comes to mind. A blush grows on her cheeks far before it comes out of her mouth. Her breath feels shaky and her chest grows cold. She's going to ask him a question she's always wanted to know ever since she befriended him - an overwhelming curiosity that she had yet to tame. "...What DOES love mean to you, Jack?" She hears him take a breath and open his mouth to say something, but he closes it abruptly. He places a hand on his mouth for a few seconds as he stares at the ground. She presses her fingers together as she waits. She really wants to know what love means to him...Especially when she knows that SHE is in love with him. And now that they're becoming something together...she needs to have this final confirmation - so she no longer feels uncertain. "I think love is something that grows," He finally replies. "At first, it feels different. But over time, it grows so much to where the person you're IN love with can never leave your mind. You'll do things for them that you wouldn't ever think of doing before. The moment you find yourself to where you're missing them whenever they're not with you, then you're in love." . . . There is a very long moment of silence afterwards. She doesn't realize she's holding her breath until he stops talking. She slowly exhales it and she thinks further on what was said. What he described now is...exactly how she feels about him. She turns to him and finds his stare is on the ground, as if something is on his mind. "....I feel like love is the support you give someone," She starts softly. "Like you said, it's where you're thinking about them all the time...taking risks you wouldn't normally take. In the end, it's where you're hoping for the best of them and staying by their side no matter what. That's what I think love is." "--Then it seems like you and I have very similar definitions." He comments coyly as her fingers dig into his palm. She trembles slightly, trying very hard to keep her composure. "I-I want to know how you feel...about something..." She bites her lip. "-Do you think that Romeo and Juliet's titles mattered? That Romeo was a Montague and Juliet was a Capulet?" "Of course not. I think the whole 'title' excuse is ridiculous. You can't control who you fall in love with. Where you stand or where your status is could really be less of a factor if you're truly in love." "...So, you don't mind that I'm not a princess, or a queen, or...or someone like Juliet?" His look changes and he quickly glances over to her. She stiffens at this, and feels stupid for ever asking. But then comes his smile again, as well as that soft titter of his. "-Is that what this is about, Sally? You don't think you deserve me because you're not royalty?" She's quick to defend herself. "We-well, the Doctor used to say that you were most likely to fall in love with someone of a higher class...no one like me." "Well, first of all, there's no one else around in royalty. So there's no chance I could have fallen for a princess or a queen." He leans down further until she can feel his breath on her hair. "You know it doesn't matter to me. I hope it doesn't to you?" "No. Of course not." She breathes a sigh of relief, letting her shoulders relax. "I can't believe I let the Doctor's bias get to me...how I used to believe those things..." Her eyes narrow as her thoughts drift. Jack really is too good for her. Here he is telling her about all his good morals and how humble he is. He seems like an angel sent from heaven itself. There is nothing bad about him she could find, for how long she has known him now. There is no flaw...nothing that draws her away from him. Every part about him only makes her fall further in love. But she wants him to know that...she wants to hear it fall off of her own tongue, and to hear it from him, too... "Jack..." She starts. "I have something to confess..." "What is it?" As long as she has prepared herself for this, all the mental determination and words of encouragement she has given to herself, she still struggles to find the right words. "Th-the reason I bring all of this up is....is because...wi-with the Doctor--" She takes a deep breath and steadies herself. It's now or never. This is the best chance she has to confess it to him - after their discussion about love, feelings, and what they have together...she has hidden it from him so long now, and she needs to uncover the truth. With a firm nod of the head, she turns to Jack and begins confessing, in a heartfelt manner that leaves her words spilling and her sentences ongoing: "What you said about love, just now...how you can't stop thinking about that person, and how you take risks that are new to you...I-I realized I feel that way about you. I've done things I'm not so proud of just to see you, and I think a lot about you every night. You don't leave my mind no matter what I'm doing and you're the reason I leave that tower so often. You're why I always want to come outside and celebrate." She has the courage to look him in the eye sockets, and finds that they're full of emotion. His face is undergoing many expressions, but she has no time to read them all. "--You've always been so supportive of me, and you've taught me a lot about...well, everything. You saved my life the first time you met me, and I owe you so much for all the things you've done for me. I wouldn't be as happy as I am now if it weren't for you." He starts softly. "Sally..." She can feel a tremendous blush growing on her cheeks, and her chest very well may be close to combusting. But she doesn't care - she likes the fiery feeling in her neck, and the hotness of her body. She says all of these things with truth and care, because they're all things she has been holding back until now. She continues spilling her emotions, finding no reason to stop: "What I'm saying, Jack, is that...I care about you. So much. I-I think about you all the time. I always want to be with you. You've showed me that life is worth so much more than the Doctor has told me...that I truly belong here with everyone else. And I don't want to be with anyone but you." She stops to fiddle with her hands, and draws her gaze into his slowly. "I love you, Jack. I've loved you ever since you showed me this new world." When she finishes, she shuts her eyes tight, preparing herself for what may come. She hears him take a sharp intake of breath, but then he lets it out slowly. When she opens her eyes, she finds he has a look of affection, and before she can say anything more, his hands find his way into hers, bringing them up to their chests. He sets his large palm over her hand, and from that warmth can she feel many other things. "Oh, Sally...you're so different. So very different...you're the only one who has kept me up all night." She grows breathless as he says this. "-Never have I met someone like you. Someone who was interested in me FOR me. You're the only one who's ever looked to me as a person more than a King. More than anyone else ever has." He chuckles. "You very well may know more about me than this whole town does put together." Their fingers entwine once more. She starts to shake. Shake as his touch travels from the top of her hand to her arm, slowly finding its way onto her shoulder. The world around her spins as his figure draws closer to hers, and she reacts to her instincts by inching closer to him. By the time she can see the details of his stitches, where she can feel the fine fabric of his suit and the wings of his bow tie brushing against her neck, he gently tells her: "I love you, too." His hand finds its way to the side of her face. His thin fingers prod along along the stitches on her cheek before finding their way to her jaw, where they cup the side of her face. And she melts in this contact, turning into complete jelly as she allows him to bring their faces closer. She purses her lips and shuts her eyes, but she doesn't need to do anymore than that. She feels his lips brush against her own, then deepen passionately as his other arm wraps around her figure to draw her against his chest, where she is left to hold the sides of his arms as to not break away. She's finally kissing him. It's as unadulterated as Sally has dreamed, and to say she's in a state of bliss is an understatement. She was right - this feels nothing like when he kissed her forehead. This is so much more. It feels as if her phantom heart has left her body and in its absence is the heat of pleasure. Every part of her body grows warm the longer she kisses Jack, and as her fingers trail over the back of his neck, he feels colder than her. She relaxes against him - letting her chest collapse onto his own and clinging her arms around him. She is unsure if she can feel anything at that moment, but Jack's lips pressing against her own very softly. They both eventually break away after a few minutes, neither of them desperate for air. For as long as it lasted, Sally wishes she could have more - that the feeling would have prolonged, where her ruby lips would never had to have left his stitched ones. But in this period she stares at him dreamily, her arms still around his shoulders and her body resting against his. He returns a look similar to her own as his hand combs its way through her hair, the other that has been tightly wrapped around her body gently rubbing the side of her thigh. This period of relaxing silence is cut off when Jack speaks. His voice sounds very calm, and more quiet than usual. She loves the sound - it makes her melt even further in his grip. "--That felt like something I've been waiting for my whole death." She squeezes her legs together, reliving everything she felt in that moment. "Me, too." The kiss adamantly took their breaths away, both physically and figuratively. They substitute this silence by resting themselves on each other. She lays her head on his chest and brings her legs around his figure, breathing in the scent of his cologne while the tingling still lingers on her lips. There are no words needed to be said in this period - the silence is comfortable, and feels perfectly at ease. Their embrace continues as the night goes on, and at some point, he feels Sally go completely limp in his grip. He waits a moment before finding that she has fallen asleep in his arms. He combs the strands of hair from her face before gently lifting the two of them up, holding her carefully in his arms as she climbs down the hill. She doesn't stir in this time - she appears to be completely asleep. He uses this to his advantage on his way back to Finklestein's, where he can hopefully place her in her bed without any notice. As he walks through the Outskirts, listening to the sounds of howling and the creatures skittering in the shadows, he observes the sleeping figure in his arms. She looks so peaceful with her mouth slightly agape and her eyes gently shut. He felt such close contact with her once before - in a similar situation, where she was asleep in his arms. Except the circumstances are different, now. She fell asleep like this. After everything they had confessed to each other...after their kiss, and their long embrace where they did nothing but hold each other. He moves a finger slightly along her cheek. She shivers under his touch. He chuckles quietly and instead stares at her face. To observe the stitch lined along her right eye, the way her blood hair is brushing along her shoulders, and how tightly her small hands are clutching the lapels of his suit. Everything about her is beautiful. Now he was finally able to confess his undying love for this ragdoll that he's kept down for so much time. The urge to touch Sally, to look at her, to kiss her...the overwhelming desire to make them something more...he has that now. And right now, he has the woman he loves in his arms, innocently tucked away from reality...kept safely in his arms and away from the cold and the lingering creatures of the night. "Look at how peaceful you are," He speaks to her, so quietly that it goes unheard to her unconscious ears. He sighs blissfully a moment after. "How beautiful..." He arrives at Finklestein's tower, and attempts the front door. When it resists, he has to use his trusted skeleton key to open the door. And when it opens, he's quick to make his move. The door creaks as it closes only a second after Jack is already inside. He rushes up the ramps as quietly as possible. He ensures she doesn't stir in this time, holding her close and shielding her from the rush of the cold air as he approaches her room. He slips through the gap of the door easily with her in his arms, and looks around the silent room in search for her bed. He finds it in the same spot as last time, and leans down to open the blankets for her. When he slowly goes to remove her from him, he feels Sally resist. Her grip tightens around her neck and she emits a slight whine, her body insisting to stay wrapped around his. "Don't go..." She whispers. His ribs ache at her tone. She sounds so afraid of him leaving. "You'll see me again." He insists, applying a small amount of pressure to unclasp her hands. "I promise." She flutters her eyes open for a moment. His chest contracts when he sees her black eyes, and he wishes they were still back at the Graveyard so he could have a moment's more of a kiss. He lays her in her bed, against her pillow, and tucks her in. This reminds him so much of what he did before. Except this time he doesn't want to leave as soon as the job is finished. He wants to be here all night, by her side, so she won't have to be alone. Before he even takes a step away from her bedside, her arm reaches out and grabs his hand. "But what if...." He words fail to finish. With much effort, she finishes, "What if he won't...let me see you again...?" He wants to laugh. "I know you, Sally. You'll find your way to me. You're more capable than he grants you for." He reaches forward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Now, you need to sleep. Can you do that for me?" Her hand squeezes his own, though it is very gentle. He can tell she's weak from fatigue. "..Okay..." He feels guilty as he slips his hand from hers. He hesitates a moment before leaning over pressing his lips on her forehead once more. His spine tickles slightly as he pulls away. As badly as his body demands for more; the selfish feeling prying at his bones to spend more time with her, he has to resist. As his eye sockets gloss over her figure, tucked in the blankets and settled comfortably on the bed, he runs his hand along the side of her face and whispers his final words to her for the night. "Goodnight, Sally." He doesn't hear a reply, but she doesn't need to say anything. She nuzzles the side of her face further into his hand instead. He feels the ends of her eyelashes brush against his phalanges as she finally closes her eyes, and he waits a few moments more before removing it. He takes this cue to finally leave, taking a few steps to reach the door and closing for the night. When he's alone, he cautiously peers about the tower and finds it's still empty. He climbs down the ramps with ease before leaving Finklestein's Tower for the night, locking the door behind him and starting his way back to his own home. ------------------------- The next morning, Sally wakes up in pure bliss. She doesn't forget everything that has happened the night prior because it is all she dreamed about. Something she has wanted for a very long time, and thought about for as long as she could remember...it actually happened. She has vivid memories of everything exchanged last night, and the same events repeated in her dream. Her and Jack, alone together, holding each other, engaged in a passionate kiss....confessing their love for each other whenever they broke away, only to lock lips again when their yearning became too overbearing. It all felt so real, but this time she knows they are for certain. The Doctor acts very disappointed when she finally shows her face that morning. He makes sure to guilt trip her every opportunity he has while she prepares their breakfast. But everything he says falls on deaf ears - she is too far gone in her own world, thinking about her first kiss, and her confession to Jack. She even goes as to hum while cooking the food, ignoring Finklestein's angry outbursts from above. When she's finally finished, she goes into the dining room to present their breakfast for the morning, setting down plates of rotten eggs, sausage, and glasses of juice to accompany it. Both the Doctor and Igor perk up as their servings are set down, and Sally happily skips over to her own chair as she joins them. "Well..." Finklestein picks up some of it with his fork and sniffs carefully. "Someone seems to be in a good mood this morning..." She says nothing, cutting her foot into pieces and swirling them around on her plate. Igor happily chows down his food while the Doctor squints his eyes at her suspiciously. She notices his look and sits up attentively in her seat, properly eating her food and clearing her throat. She can't let anything slip....if he knew of her and Jack - well, she was sure everything bad that COULD happen to her WOULD... "Oh, um, yes, Doctor. I guess it is a horrible morning." He takes a bite and chews. She tenses while he does this, but then he relaxes in his seat and nods in admiration. "This is good, my dear. A fine meal to wake up to. Nothing like what you prepared for me yesterday, where you poisoned my poor old body and left to who-knows-where..." She sinks in her seat. He tsks at her lack of a reply and continues eating. She pokes at her eggs as she tries to uplift herself - pretending it's Jack telling her he loves her instead of the Doctor scolding her for leaving again. That itself brings a smile back to her face, and she finishes the rest on her plate with confidence. She stands to gather the rest of the dishes from Igor and Dr. Finklestein, and happily skips back into the kitchen, where she can be alone with her thoughts again as she washes them. Dr. Finklestein watches all of this with observant eyes. He notices the new aura about her - from the way she's adding an extra skip in her step to the way she trotted to her seat. She is never usually this perky, and her mind seemed elsewhere when he spoke to her. This was the first time he's seen her finish her own cooking, or be so willing to eat with them at the table. He can already sense there is something different about her - as if she had done something after he was poisoned, or something happened to her.... "Hmmm." He muses to himself, rubbing a tiny gloved finger on his chin. "Something smells like rotten fish again, Igor..." "--Igor get more food? Igor hungry for more good food!" "Yes, yes, Igor...in time...we'll know in time...."

[setaripendragon]

The Light of a Pole Star - Part 2

Here’s the next part; have a few outsider PoVs of Ed and his weirdness. The last scene of this is actually the first thing I imagined when I thought up this story, and I’m actually really pleased with how it came out.

Roy doesn’t know what to make of Edward Elric. Most of the time, he seems like your average traumatised child prodigy. A little arrogant, a lot determined, a bit impulsive and, heh, short-tempered. But there are moments – frequent, odd little moments – where it feels a little like there’s something ancient looking out through Edward’s eyes.

Never in his life would Roy have dreamed of asking any child to recreate the scene of their trauma, but Edward had shouldered the burden, and asked for help when he needed to without shame or the bravado Roy had come to expect. He’d acted like a soldier, and he’d turned a body inside out – and vaporised parts of it – without faltering more than once. Only after it was done had he thrown up and started shaking. Roy had gotten him out of that room quickly, but he’d hesitated to take Edward to join Riza and Alphonse straight away. And that had apparently been the right choice, because after a few minutes, Edward had let out a shuddery breath, leaned against Roy’s side briefly, and muttered ‘Thanks’ before heading out to reassure his brother.

That’s the other disturbing thing about Edward. For some inexplicable reason, he’s decided he trusts Roy. He just up and decided to trust the military dog who’s shady enough to recruit an eleven year old. And if Edward ever really acted his age, or showed even the smallest inclination for naivety, Roy might put it down to a childish trust in authority figures. But Edward uniformly rebels against authority, and makes no secret of the fact that he dislikes the military immensely. And yet… and yet he trusts Roy.

It just doesn’t make any sense.

Think of the devil, and he shall appear. As if his thoughts had summoned him, Roy hears the characteristic thump-stamp-thump-stamp-thump-BANG-thunk of Edward’s return to the office. “Must you always kick the door like that, FullMetal?” Roy sighs, because it’s easier to complain about the abuse the poor door is suffering than to think about his mother’s voice saying ‘he’s a lot more grown-up than he looks’ and wondering if she saw that ancient thing behind Edward’s eyes, too.

“Fuck off, bastard. Hey guys. We brought coffee. Didn’t know what you all like, so there’s some packets of sugar and devil-juice, too. Whatever.” Edward announces while Alphonse shuffles through the door sheepishly and deposits half a dozen to-go cups of life-blood from the good café two streets away on the corner of Havoc’s desk. Predictably, the entire team descends on the non-military non-cafeteria coffee like a swarm of locusts. Edward yelps and scrambles to grab two of the cups before getting the hell out of dodge.

“Hey, you drinking both of those, Boss?” Havoc asks, giving Ed a dubiously concerned look.

“No.” Edward insists, glowering without much heat behind it. “This one’s for the bastard.” He explains, lifting one of the cups in the air to indicate, and then stomping over to Roy’s desk, depositing the coffee on top of the report Roy was reading, and then throwing himself down onto the couch like he always does.

“What if I want milk in it?” Roy challenges dryly.

Edward gives him the stink-eye, opens his mouth, and then, curiously, falters before whatever retort is clearly on the tip of his tongue can fall out of his mouth. He grimaces, hides the expression behind his cup, and only answers once he’s swallowed. “But it’ll clash with the aconite.” He snarks.

Roy really wants to know what Edward was going to say that he thought that was an improvement on, but he decides not to ask. “Attempting to poison your superior officer already, FullMetal?” He asks instead, while very pointedly lifting the cup and taking an easy sip. It does taste very good without any extra condiments. It is also very definitely not plain black coffee. It’s minty, and chocolatey, and decadent. Roy takes another sip and savours it, feeling more awake already.

“I know it takes the average grunt a couple of years to reach that stage of fuck it, but you know me; I’m an overachiever.” Edward sallies back without missing a beat, this time.

“If that’s the case, I’m afraid the rest of my team must be slacking.” Roy murmurs, amused.

“Except Hawkeye.” Edward grins from behind his mug.

“Speaking of which!” Roy begins, sitting up and leaning forward over his work with a show of alacrity that makes Edward snort coffee out his nose. While he’s spluttering and cursing Roy’s ancestors to hell and back again, Roy digs up the forms Edward has yet again failed to fill out. “You do actually need to fill these out, FullMetal.”

“Fuck you.” Edward retorts, but he takes the papers anyway. Of course, instead of doing anything as sensible as fetching a pen, Roy sees Edward’s eyes flick down to the bottom left corner. A grin spreads across his face. “Got bored in a meeting, did you?” Edward snickers.

“It’s not my fault none of the brass are pretty enough to be properly captivating.” Roy fires back flippantly.

“The little horns are a nice touch.” Edward compliments through a shit-eating grin. The smile slips sideways suddenly, into something strangely soft, and that ancient thing is back in his eyes. “Maybe you should quit the military and take up art instead.” His voice is still full of cheerful irreverence, no matter how much it doesn’t match his expression anymore.

“Unfortunately, I think I’d get distracted.” Roy sighs melodramatically.

Edward rolls his eyes, but he still looks… oddly soft. Fond, maybe “Idiot. It’s actually stupid fun to alchemise paint. Apparently it makes the pigment brighter, too, so, hey, win-win.”

Roy raises his eyebrows. “If I remember correctly, that was something of a fashion in Aerugo several hundred years ago. Entertaining dreams of being a renaissance artist, FullMetal?”

Edward startles, looking for a moment as if the conversation just threw him a curveball, instead of a perfectly reasonable continuation. Then he shakes himself and snorts. “No. It’d suit you, though, bastard. You’ve already got the melodrama down.” He mocks. Then he puts the back of his hand against his forehead and pretends to swoon. “Oh, I just can’t work like this! The angles are wrong! The colours are dull! It’s just boring. Won’t someone come and massage my shoulders and pass me the wine that’s just three inches away from my fingertips?”

The entire team is roaring with laughter. “Well,” Roy muses, fighting his own snicker, “if the only other person in the room was the model for my painting, that sounds like an excellent excuse to get a beautiful person within touching distance.” He points out.

There’s more laughter, but Edward goes a little wide-eyed and pink-cheeked before he joins in. “See? I was right.” He huffs between chuckles. “You’d fit right in.”

Riza clears her throat. A glance tells Roy that even though she’s trying to look stern, there’s a smile tugging at one corner of her lips. “Unfortunately, this isn’t medieval Aerugo, and some people have work to do.” She reminds them.

Roy groans.

Alphonse watches his brother leaf through the multitude of books he’d borrowed from the East City Library, feeling… disconcerted. There’s something going on that Ed’s not telling him about, and it’s got something to do with Colonel Mustang. At first, Alphonse had missed it, because the meeting had been so brief, and he’d been in his own slump, but afterwards, after how easily his brother had trusted a scheming military dog with Nina, he remembered that Ed hadn’t pulled out of his strange dissociative state until after Mustang had appeared.

And now the coffee thing.

Alphonse had been the one to suggest bringing coffee on their way into the office, and Ed hadn’t seemed to care until Alphonse had started fretting about not knowing what everyone liked. Then he’d stepped in and ordered one chocolate-coffee with extra sugar – for himself, Alphonse knew – five plain black coffees – for the team, Alphonse guessed, except… – and one mint-chocolate-coffee.

“Who’s that for?” Alphonse asked.

“Colonel Bastard, of course.” Ed said, as if it was obvious.

Alphonse had let it stand, played along, because most of the time, the worst thing to do was to confront Brother over something he wanted to ignore. Then he got stubborn and ignored it for even longer than was sensible just to prove he could handle it, or some other such nonsense. So he bit his tongue, and watched. And the thing that really, really bothered Alphonse was that it had been so obvious that the Colonel had not been expecting anything special, but he’d savoured it. He’d liked it. And Ed just shouldn’t know, off-hand and easy, what sort of coffee the Colonel prefers.

But, of course, Brother is being stubborn about it, so Alphonse isn’t quite sure what to do. He could leave it, let Ed explain in his own time, but… but the problem with that is that Alphonse really isn’t comfortable with how much Ed trusts the Colonel without knowing why. So he’s going to have to ask, and hope Brother doesn’t clam up about it even more.

“Brother?” Alphonse asks, and then waits for confirmation that he’s been heard. He knows what Ed can get like when he’s reading.

“Mm?” Ed hums, and then, when there’s nothing more forthcoming, drags himself a little further out of the book, enough to look up and actually give Alphonse his attention. “What’s up, Al?”

“Why do you trust the Colonel so much?” Alphonse asks, bluntly, because Ed’s reaction to such an attack should be very informative.

Sure enough, Ed looks confused for just a moment, before his eyes widen with that ‘oh damn I’m caught’ sort of look that still makes Alphonse ache because usually only Mum could inspire that expression in Brother. With everyone else he just got belligerent. Except now, after everything, it seems Alphonse can manage it, too. “What do you mean?” Ed deflects. Poorly.

Alphonse does his best to radiate disappointment at Ed’s terrible lying. “You know exactly what I mean.” He huffs.

And Ed deflates. “Yeah. It’s just… it’s- it’s complicated, Al, and I- I don’t want you to think-”

“Think what?” Alphonse presses, but gently. Now that Ed’s talking, the last thing he wants to do is put Ed on the defensive.

“That I’m- that you’re- not important to me.”

Alphonse takes a moment to process that, to parse it from Edward-speak into something actually coherent, and feels something maybe like incredulity bubble through his- well, through his soul, he supposes. “Brother… do you have a crush on the Colonel?” He asks in disbelief. Ed blinks once, twice, and then, unbelievably, laughs. “Brother!” Alphonse whines, indignant. “Don’t laugh! It’s a fair question, when you start saying things like that!”

“No, no, I’m not- You’re right, I’m not laughing at you, Al, I swear.” Ed snickers.

“Then what’s funny?” Alphonse asks, relaxing a little.

“So, okay, that wasn’t quite what I was getting at, but it’s as good a segue as any, so; Al,” Ed says, very seriously, even if he is still trying not to laugh, “Al, Roy’s my soulmate.”

Alphonse has to take a moment to process that, too. Because Ed doesn’t believe in things like soulmates, or love at first sight, or, really, romance at all. So, if he’s not using the word in the romantic sense, then… Well, they do have empirical evidence that souls exist, so… “What do you- No, I mean; How do you know that?” Alphonse corrects himself, because he’s got an idea what Brother means, he just has no idea how Ed came to that conclusion.

“Because-” Ed begins, and then falters, looking faintly overwhelmed. Then he scrubs his flesh hand over his face and sets his jaw. It’s a familiar expression, a ‘we’re going to get to the bottom of this’ expression that reassures Alphonse more than anything. “Because I remember him. He’s the only thing that stays the same.” Ed states.

Alphonse knows that’s his cue to ask questions until that ridiculously incomprehensible answer makes sense. He considers all sorts of questions. ‘What do you mean’ is too vague, and ‘remember him from when’ is only going to get him a rephrasing of what Ed’s already said – ‘from always, Al, I just said that’ – so instead, he asks; “Stays the same through what?”

“My lives.” Ed answers, watching Alphonse carefully, almost warily.

“Your-” Alphonse stops himself from just repeating that, because Ed knows what he said, he meant what he said, so parroting it back to him isn’t going to help. “You’re talking about… reincarnation? Recycling souls through multiple lives?”

“Yeah.”

“And you… you’re saying you remember your previous lives?”

“Yeah.”

Alphonse is not an idiot. He is, in fact, a genius. “Since the gate?”

Ed looks relieved. “Since the gate.” He confirms. “It’s- I don’t understand why it happened to me and not to you, because you went through the Gate, too, but… It’s as if when it pulled me apart, it… exposed all the stuff that I’m not supposed to remember, all the parts of me that aren’t… me.” Ed’s hand migrates from scrubbing his face to raking through his hair and messing up his braid.

Well, that actually explains so much. Like how Granny had been behaving around Ed before they left. She’d still been nannying Alphonse, even though he was six foot tall now, but she’d treated Ed like somehow what they’d gone through had made him an adult. Because, in a way, it kind of had. Or, at least, it had woken up the parts of Ed that had been an adult before. “Oh! Is that Klaus person from one of your past lives?” He exclaims in a moment of sudden understanding.

Ed snorts. “Yeah, Al. Klaus was Roy. Or… Roy was Klaus, once.”

“Oh!” Alphonse breaths, clarity dawning, and then, just as quickly, becoming obscured again by confusion. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“I don’t know.” Ed admits grumpily. “It’s just… I looked at him, and I recognised him. I knew him. That’s like- Al, that’s like someone asking you ‘but how do you know that Ed’s your brother?’”

“Because you look the same.” Alphonse answered at once, even though he knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t have to look identical to the last time you saw me for you to recognise me. You recognise my voice, and my gestures, and my- my me-ness.” Ed insists, hands gesturing vaguely in the air. Alphonse silently judges him for his abuse of the Amestrian language. “Shut up, you know what I mean.” Ed huffs.

“I do.” Alphonse capitulates. He lets the silence settle for a moment, thinking carefully about everything Ed’s said so far. It’s hard to believe, hard to wrap his mind around, but he doesn’t not believe Ed. Too much of the weirdness can be explained this way for him to just dismiss it. Still, he’d like a little more confirmation. “You told Granny, didn’t you?” He asks slowly.

“Yeah. I figured- I figured since she’s old as dirt, I could maybe convince her by, you know, sharing knowledge of the time and shit.” Ed explains. “Turns out, I actually met her in my last life.”

Alphonse is going to have to call Granny and confirm, because that sounds like a pretty huge coincidence. “Who- I mean, what were you like?” He asks carefully, wanting more information for Granny to corroborate.

“It’s fine, you can ask ‘who were you’” Ed assures him. Alphonse huffs, and Ed gets on with actually answering the question. “I was an engineer. Actually helped invent the first car. Sort of, they didn’t really look all that much like what we’ve got now, and the engines in cars today are pretty different, but- Yeah.”

“An engineer.” Alphonse repeats.

“…Yeah?” Ed replies, warily. “Al, what?”

“So, basically a mechanic.” Alphonse rephrases.

Ed pulls a face. “Sort of. I mean, I could fix the damn things, so that’s what I was hauled out to the front to do, but I was designing the things, not-”

“I’m telling Winry.” Alphonse informs him.

Ed’s expression of outraged betrayal is sweet indeed. “Don’t you dare!”

“I’m telling Winry that you invented engines in your last life, but somehow you still can’t understand even the basics of how your own automail even works-”

“You traitor!” Ed howls, throwing a book at Alphonse. Al catches it and judges his brother for throwing books. Ed slumps down in his chair in a huff, arms crossed and scowl firmly in place. “And I can too understand the basics. Just because I’m not an automail genius as well as an alchemy genius-” Alphonse snickers, and Ed grumbles imprecations under his breath.

The last thing Izumi was expecting today was a phone call from one of the Elric boys. It’s been so long by now that getting a call from them is less an expected social courtesy and more a cause for concern, but she’s still glad to hear from them. She’d worried, a little, when months rolled by without hearing anything from them after they went back home.

So when Sig leans around the door to the living room, carrying the phone in one hand and the receiver in mid-air in the other, and says “It’s Alphonse,” she sits bolt upright with a mixture of pleasure and panic. Sig offers her the receiver, and she more or less snatches it, which makes him smile faintly as he puts the phone down on the table, the cord pulling almost too taut through the doorway and turning into a massive tripping hazard.

“Alphonse?” Izumi questions, bringing the receiver to her ear.

“Teacher!” Alphonse greets, bright and pleased, and Izumi relaxes a little. If Alphonse can sound that cheerful, it’s at least not an immediate disaster. “How have you been? I’m so sorry not to have called before, that was rude of us.”

Izumi smiles, even as she narrows her eyes at nothing. An apology, but no explanation, which feels like Alphonse’s subtle attempt at a dodge. “I’ve been fine. Same as ever. What about you? And Edward? What have you boys been up to?”

“We’re good. We’re fine.” Alphonse says quickly. Too quickly. “We haven’t been up to much at all! Just- just studying. Alchemy.”

“Uh-huh.” Izumi drawls, making sure that every ounce of her deeply unimpressed scepticism comes through across the telephone lines.

“Which is actually what I called you about!” Alphonse presses on. “I have a question, and I’m not sure where to even begin looking for an answer, and- and, well, I thought you might be able to help. At least point me in a sensible direction.”

Izumi settles back into the big squishy armchair more comfortably. She’ll play along for the moment, but she’s certainly not going to forget that Alphonse was clearly hiding something from her. “Well, I’ll do my best.” She offers.

“So, I’ve been, um, looking into theoretical alchemy a bit lately. Really, very, massively theoretical alchemy.” Alphonse insists. Oh, Izumi has a bad feeling about this, but she ‘mm-hm’s into the phone to encourage him on. “And, well, a bit of philosophy, too, actually. Just… idle research, you know, except- Well-” He stumbles. Embarrassed, as well as hiding something, Izumi thinks.

“Spit it out, Alphonse.” Izumi encourages.

“I’ve been looking into the theory of reincarnation.” Alphonse blurts out.

Izumi goes cold. “Have you?” She asks, and she’s surprised at how even her voice sounds.

“Y-yes. And, see… I was… well, I was wondering, purely hypothetically, you see, if- All the resources I can find talk about the cycle of rebirth, of souls re-entering the world as a new person, but… there’s nothing on… on whether souls are a finite resource, or if, say, for example, new souls might be being born, too, souls that- that don’t have any past lives.”

Izumi might not be a genius of the same calibre as the Elric brothers, but she’s not stupid. For Alphonse to be asking such a specific ‘hypothetical’ question, he and at least one other person must have committed taboo and spoken about it. They must have compared experiences, for Alphonse to be worried about the fact that one of them had had a vastly different experience to the other.

And where one Elric is doing unspeakably foolish things, the other is bound to be close behind.

Taking a deep breath, Izumi decides that there’s no way she’s getting into this over the phone. She is going to need to see them in person to give them the thrashing they deserve. “Alphonse.” She says slowly, and hears Alphonse suck in a sharp breath. “Where exactly are you and Edward right now?”

“U-um… in Central City?”

“Which hotel?”

That was definitely a guilty ‘urk’ sound he just made. “The… um, the Military Barracks?”

…She’ll kick their asses for that, too. Fuck everything, but they’re only just barely teenagers. They’re so damn young, what the bloody hell are they doing in the Military Barracks?

“I’ll be there tomorrow. Don’t. Go. Anywhere.”

“But-!”

Izumi hangs up the phone with a satisfying clatter-clang. Then she spends several minutes just sitting there, glaring at it and measuring her breathing to tamp her temper down into something that will survive an overnight train-ride without burning itself out.

“Where are we going?” Sig asks softly.

Izumi turns to him, takes a moment to really just look at him, to soak up his beloved features, and look past beautiful brown eyes to the soul beneath. The soul that has looked at her and loved her through blue eyes and green eyes and grey eyes and black eyes and red eyes and hazel eyes in a variety of different combinations. There was one time she remembers he had one blue eye and one eye that was split neatly down the middle between blue and brown.

“What are you remembering?” Sig asks, smiling and reaching up to cup the side of her face.

“Creta. Sometime in the middle of the sixth century. The day I met a beautiful blacksmith with half a brown eye. You were so caught up staring at me you nearly dropped an anvil on your foot.” Izumi tells him, remembering the moment with perfect clarity. “Of course, I was so caught up staring right back at you that I walked clear into an iron beam. You offered to fix the new dent in my helmet for free.”

“Of course.” Sig agrees, nodding as if that was the only thing that made sense. Izumi grins, but the moment fades quickly in the face of the painful reality. “What is it?”

“The Elrics performed human transmutation.” Izumi tells him, and Sig’s expression falls into sorrowful, solemn lines. “Alphonse called to ask about reincarnation, and why someone might not remember their past lives.”

Sig sighs, and gives her a look that she knows means he’s wishing she wouldn’t go haring off across the country to kick the asses of her troublesome students, but he doesn’t say it, and Izumi loves him so much for that. “Where should I get tickets to?” He asks, instead.

“Central City Center.”

Chris is wiping down table-tops in preparation for the early evening rush when one of the last people she expected to see in her bar walks in. She’d have been more surprised if the Fuhrer himself walked in, but not by much, because she sees a lot of military men in her establishment. But Edward Elric, the FullMetal Alchemist, doesn’t look like he feels out of place at all.

“Edward.” The woman who follows him in growls. “This is a brothel.”

The boy isn’t chastised at all, he just rolls his eyes. They both look like they’ve been in a brawl, and though the kid definitely looks worse for wear, they both have the sort of aura that screams ‘you should see the other guy’. “It’s a bar, too, Teacher. You said you wanted a drink, didn’t you?” Ah, so the woman must be Izumi Curtis, the infamous alchemy teacher of the genius Elric boys. Chris watches her with a little more interest, assessing her. She’s a handsome woman, strong and clearly living an active life, although there’s a touch of pallor to her skin that makes her wonder if she’s ill or not eating right. “Hey, Madame Christmas! You open for business?” Elric calls.

“Well, if it isn’t the little architect.” Chris drawls, which gets her a sharp-edged grin from the boy. “You’re still too young to be a customer.” She reminds him, even as she heads back behind the bar.

“If I’m old enough to kill for the state, I think I’m old enough for half a glass of alcohol, thanks.” Elric retorts promptly, holding up his State Alchemist’s watch. Which is a damn good point, really, and Chris knows her boy will get her out of trouble if anyone does complain.

So she nods acceptingly, and gestures at the well-stocked wall of alcohol behind the bar. “Pick your poison, kid.” And then she glances at Curtis to include her in the question about drinks as well without ruining the banter.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any Drachman bottled water?” Curtis asks a little wistfully.

Chris honestly loves it when she can surprise people, and it’s always sweeter when it’s the sort of surprise that makes them light up the way Curtis does when she ducks down to pull the – smuggled – bottle of clear, potent liquor out from it’s hiding place.

“Huh.” The kid says, eyeing his teacher sideways for a moment while Chris pours Curtis a generous glass and sets it in front of her. “Can you make a hot mint chocolate toddy? Without the cream?” He asks hopefully.

“Child’s play.” Chris confirms, and sets about to mixing it for him.

“So why here?” Curtis asks while she’s busy. So many people seem to think that ‘busy’ means ‘deaf’, it’s another of those things Chris really, really loves about her job.

“Why d’you think?” Elric retorts. Curtis grunts an acknowledgement and falls silent. A covert glance shows Chris that she’s glaring into the vodka like it holds the secrets of the universe. “Teacher…” Elric begins, and for the first time in Chris’s hearing, he sounds tentative, nervous. Curtis looks up at him, dryly prompting, and Elric grimaces and shifts on his seat. “How much do you remember?”

“Two dozen, more or less.” Curtis replies, and knocks back half her drink.

“Shit.” Elric swears, wide-eyed.

“How much do you remember?” Curtis retorts.

“Just ten.” Elric replies. “I guess that’s a point in favour of Al’s theory of an expanding source, then.”

Curtis makes a dubious noise, and Elric’s eyebrows hike up. Chris is painfully curious about what the hell they’re talking about, but it sounds as if they’re talking in code, so she’s unlikely to figure out what they actually mean unless they get a lot more careless. To help them along to that end, she serves up Elric’s toddy. He grins his thanks, and takes a sip. His eyes flutter closed, and an expression of pure nostalgia flickers across his face.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Curtis says once Elric’s done savouring his drink. She’s watching him with a very maternal combination of sorrow and pride, but the moment he looks at her, it’s gone, hidden behind practical irritability. “I have a theory about that, but since for a long time I was the only one stupid enough to have done something like that-” Elric cringes down in his seat, thoroughly chastised. “-I haven’t had anyone to test it against.”

Elric clears his throat sheepishly, but he sounds perfectly composed when he says “Lay it on me, then.”

“I think it only goes back to the latest one that’s familiar enough for you to latch onto. Think of the first time. Does it parallel your entire life in weirdly specific ways?” Curtis asks cryptically.

Or, well, it’s clearly only cryptic to Chris, because Elric’s expression turns open and slack with dawning revelation. “Shit- I mean, I’d noticed the sort of- the superficial- but-” He stops, and his left hand goes up to grab his right shoulder. His eyes are glazed over like he’s watching a memory play out so clearly he can’t see the bar at all. “He literally even saved me the same fucking way.”

Curtis snorts. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Elric startles, drawn back to the present, and shoots his teacher a teasing grin. “Did you drop your bear again?” He asks through a snicker.

“Yup.” Curtis confirms, smiling like a woman in love.

Elric laughs again, this time less teasing and more fond, and shakes his head. “I guessed it would be Sig.” He muses, which sounds like a non-sequitur, but Chris isn’t that surprised to hear the woman’s husband mentioned after the look that had been on her face a moment ago. Clearly, Curtis isn’t surprised, either, because she snorts.

“Obviously.” She drawls, and finishes off her drink. Chris refills it without needing to be asked. Then she looks over at Elric, expression turning serious. “Who is it, for you?”

“Mustang.” Elric answers, like it’s simple, like it’s easy, like there’s no other answer in the world he could possibly give. Chris keeps her expression blank out of sheer force of will, and wonders if Roy’s figured out that Elric is hopelessly in love with him yet. Curtis frowns, like she recognises the name, but she’s not sure why. Elric elaborates; “The Flame Alchemist.”

Curtis’s nose wrinkles in acute disgust, Elric glowers back, and slowly, the teacher’s expression twists into something grudgingly accepting. Then she makes a disgusted noise. “I suppose he can’t be a complete shit-stain, then. But the military, Ed-!” She huffs.

“Hey! It’s not like I joined cause I like them.” Elric shoots back. “And besides, you’ll like him.” He asserts confidently.

“I will, will I?”

“I’ve fucked over the Amestrian military for him twice now. Three times, if you count this latest round.” Elric tells her, like that’s the sort of thing you can just say in public. Idiot. But, still, nice to know he’s on Roy’s side in this. Curtis looks mildly impressed, too, and a bit amused. “Fucking irony. Or- maybe not, maybe it’s just synchronicity.”

“Yeah, it’s good at that.”

“You want to know the real shit piece of irony?” Elric asks, mood dropping into a wry sort of agony. Curtis turns to face him, frowning in concern, and Elric glances at her before looking back at his drink. “The real shit pieces of irony, actually.”

“Tell me.” Curtis orders.

“Amestrian Military burned down Valentino’s bar. With Val still inside.”

That’s… Irony is an interesting word for it. Chris might have picked tragedy, but irony works, she supposes. She feels a twist of sympathy for Elric, and if it had been her student-nephew-son telling her something like that, she might have patted his shoulder and reminded him to keep moving forward, but Curtis doesn’t do either of those. Instead, she laughs. It’s a slightly sick sounding laugh, dark and bitter, but it’s a laugh. Elric clearly doesn’t mind, though, because he snorts once, and buries his nose into his spiked hot chocolate.

“And the other?” Curtis prompts once she’s done.

“Malka was a mullah.”

Elric knows – knew – an Ishvalan. An Ishvalan holy sage, if Chris remembers her Ishvalan right. Well, isn’t that a kick in the teeth. Still, it hasn’t stopped him falling for Roy, so Chris dares to hope this isn’t the disaster it could’ve been. “Shit.” Curtis breathes, wincing.

“Yeah.” Elric mutters, expression twisting.

“I hope you were gentle when you told him about that one.”

Elric chokes on the sip of toddy he was taking, splutters, and turns to stare at his teacher in acute, disbelieving horror. “I haven’t told him! What the fuck?! Why would you think I’ve told him any of this?!” He yelps, and for just about the first time in this whole conversation, actually sounds his age.

Curtis looks shocked by that reaction. “Why would I- Edward, why the fuck haven’t you told him?!”

The look Elric gives her says loud and clear that he’s wondering when she bumped her head badly enough to cause brain damage. “Oh, yeah, sure, because that’s exactly what anyone wants to hear from their fourteen year old subordinate.” And they were back to talking about Elric being in love with Roy again. An interesting segue from knowing an Ishvalan, but Curtis doesn’t seem thrown, and Chris supposes she can understand why Elric might have connected the two so thoroughly in his mind. Hard to explain why the one hadn’t made him hate Roy without admitting to the other.

“You’re more than that.” Curtis points out.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that.” Elric retorts furiously.

“Yes, he does.” Curtis counters, factual and completely certain. It takes Chris aback, never mind how it manages to startle Elric out of his temper. He blinks at her, brow knotting in uncertainty. But he clearly trusts his teacher a great deal, because he doesn’t argue, even though he’d have every right to demand how the fuck she could possibly know that. “He might not know that he knows, but he does know, Edward.” At Elric’s continued bewilderment, she rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. Haven’t you ever had a conversation with him where he says exactly the right thing at exactly the right moment, and you’re left thinking ‘It’s like you were there’?”

Elric’s staring at her wide-eyed again. Slowly, he nods. “We were talking about Fiametta Vittori.”

“The Aerugonian painter?” Curtis echoes, surprised and impressed. “The one famous for painting all the-” She stops, expression falling into slightly pained lines. She doesn’t need to finish, Chris knows exactly what sort of paintings Vittori was famous for. She’s got a few reproductions on the walls upstairs, after all. “Edward…!” Curtis groans.

Elric grins mischievously. “She was a perv. She and Roy would have gotten on like house on fire.” They both paused at that, eyeing each other, Elric with expectant glee, and Curtis with slowly-dawning outrage at the pun. Then they collapse into slightly tipsy snickering. That’s the last piece of dubious sense Chris hears from them for the rest of the evening. The bar gets busy, but she keeps half an ear on them, but all they seem to be talking about is increasingly bizarre historical ramblings. If it’s a code, it’s a damn good one. Chris can’t make any sense of it at all.

[chaoticspeedarch]

MAINS [updated]

This is an official Mains Call / Mains Page, for Kendall Maurice Rennard’s universe! Please read this entire page, as it is very important!

MAINS WILL BE LISTED AT THE VERY END!

What is a Main?

These Mains will be the default / assumed character when an ask is sent in, regarding that character! ( I.E, Knuckles, or Amy, etc. ) It is also the default character that Kendall will think of / refer to when mentioning said character. This is also the character that Kendall will have known for many, many, many years.

What do I have to do to become a Main?

You MUST READ KENDALL’S HISTORY PAGE! No two ways about it. I know the history page is long, but it’s imperative; I’ll be willing to flesh out the dynamics between Kendall & your character more. Not everything is fully set in stone! We can hash out further details!

You must acknowledge that ‘Sonic’ & CO. are NOW HUMANS, AND HAVE BEEN FORCEFULLY TRANSFORMED FROM THEIR MOBIAN STATES. Nobody knows why; most gave up trying to put it together ages ago. It has canonically been a year and a half since Kendall & co. transformed into regular humans; since Earth became ravaged by demons & angels; since society and stability fell into shambles.

You must have roleplayed with Kravitz with Kendall plenty, or plotted things, or have a good chemistry between Kendall & your character: it also helps if Kravitz knows you personally, but that isn’t strictly required!

You MUST BE WILLING to roleplay your character AGED UP! Kendall, in his default main verse, is nearing 30 years old! Thusly, your character must be close to his age ( Knuckles would be 31, Amy would be around…. 26 / 27? Tails [ who now goes by Miles Prower ] would be in his mid to late 20s! etc. )!

I’d LOVE for you to make a verse tag specifically for Kendall’s verse! This is just so I can keep track of your character in Kendall’s life a bit easier! A tag for Kendall himself would also be preferred!

Please be active! We don’t have to roleplay every single day, or what have you! But I do expect interaction, headcanon ideas, thread ideas, and the like to be tossed back and forth between us! I really want Kendall’s story to keep evolving and pushing forward, and I’ll need your help to do that! Kendall can’t have a main story if he doesn’t have anyone else to interact with, and his friends / your muses will be very important in those story events! Even in just little interactions! It all matters & adds up!

PLEASE SUBMIT A DRABBLE TO THIS ACCOUNT, ROLEPLAYING AS YOUR MUSE FROM KENDALL’S UNIVERSE! After reading this whole mains call! READING HIS HISTORY WILL HELP YOU WITH THIS! FEEL FREE TO LOOK OVER KENDALL’S OWN INTERACTIONS FOR INSPIRATION! TAKE YOUR TIME! I’LL BE COMBING OVER THEM FOR A FEW DAYS!

What can I expect as a Main?

Priority! I’ll be answering your threads / asks first! As mentioned above, your character is the one Kendall’s known for years! I’ll be tagging you in images, asks related to Kendall, headcanons. I’ll come to you first for any events / ideas I might have for Kendall!

A lot of interaction! Kendall’s going to be coming to your character a lot, with asks, with threads! He loves hanging out with his friends! It’ll never be a dull moment!!

My full trust: this might sound strange! But, I’ve had Kendall as a muse for about eight or nine years now: he means the world to me! I’ve been hesitant to make this entire page, because I worried that people might not be interested? I also worried that people may not stick around! If you’re a main, then I trust you to be there for Kendall! I trust you with Kendall, and interacting with him in a way that will be fun for both us of! You’ll also have my full support, that goes without saying!

Sharing! I’ll often find music or artwork or aesthetics that I think would fit Kendall and his interactions with your muse specifically! I’ll tag you in these, either on Tumblr or via discord ( if we’ve mutually shared it )! I’ll make playlists or images if I feel inspired / have some free time! I’ll share headcanon ideas, possible plot ideas, and I encourage you to do the same! I’d love to see things that make you think of your muse & Kendall!

World building! Kendall’s got a vast storyline: originally from Mobius, he & his friends were warped to Earth over 10 years ago ( as of current story timeline )! A lot of stuff’ll have happened between now and then! We don’t have to thread out all of it! But

I would love for us to sit down and hash out finer details about your muse’s life in Kendall’s timeline, how they interacted in Kendall’s life! Their own daily lives! What are they like as an adult? What were they like as a younger child, when first meeting Kendall? Expect a lot of world building together! Kravitz adores world building, especially with roleplay partners!

What can I NOT expect as a Main?

Exclusivity! While you will get top billing, I still want to interact with other muses of your character! This is just to keep everything fair, and I love seeing everybody’s interpretations of these characters!! I will never do exclusives, so please do not ask!

Expecting to be on 24/7! We all have lives, and it’s very important that we keep them healthy and balanced. While I love roleplaying, it isn’t everything! It’s totally fine if you need to be away for a while, or just can’t find the will to roleplay! I’ll understand: I will never hound you for interactions, or answering things. Just please let me know if it might take you a while to get to stuff!

Pressure to thread! If you’re just not feeling an interaction anymore in a certain thread, we can drop it. It’s okay! Just let me know you’re not feeling it anymore. We can make it shorter, end it somehow, or just scrap it entirely! I’m all for feeling out what might or might not work! Let’s work together to make this story our story and for it to be fun!

Will I lose Main status?

You may. If you’ve gone inactive for a year, without any word or contact, I’ll try and contact you. If I can’t, and you’re clearly not around anymore or interested, then I’ll drop you from the main status! If you also don’t want to be a main anymore, you’re free to come by and let me know! This is just so I can keep interactions, well, interacting! If we’re still in touch and you’re just not feeling up to writing, let me know and I’ll easily extend it for you! Again, no pressure!

——————————————-

THE MAINS!

**PLEASE NOTE:  SALLY, BUNNIE, ROTOR, ELIAS, ANTOINE, ETC. ARE ALL still back on Mobius: THEY DID NOT WARP TO EARTH WITH KENDALL & CO!

THEREFORE, IT HAS BEEN OVER TEN YEARS SINCE KENDALL & CO HAVE SEEN OR HEARD FROM SALLY / BUNNIE / ROTOR / ELIAS / ANTOINE, ETC!!

Knuckles the Echidna ( Age range: 28 - 30 ) :

Amelia “Amy” Rose ( Age range: 25 - 27 ) :

Miles “Tails” Prower ( Age range: 23 - 25 ) :

Shadow the Hedgehog ( Age range: 28 - 31 ) :

Ivo Robotnik ( Age range: 30s ) : @chaoticonscious

Christopher Thorndyke ( Age range: 23 - 25 ) :

Rouge the Bat ( Age range: 28 - 30 ) :

Sally Acorn ( Age range: 27 - 29 ) :

MORE TO BE ADDED!

———

VOLT  & HARMONY: @projectlightfox / @familylightfox

ALTERNATE SONICS: @thewayfaringhero ( @chaosworthy ) / @fighteternally

IVO ROBOTNIK: @dreggmxn

DOMINIC / ALT SHADOW: @obeyeternally