#i mean i did the border edge in orange

[twinksrepository]

Random Obey me Thoughts - 2

I don't know if this has been done, but it hit me and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

CW: Post intercourse, GN!Reader, Talk of forced ejaculation, crack thoughts

Laying there in bed your arm over your eyes with your chest heaving and the sweat lining your face, sheets cling to the bare skin anywhere the fabric is touching you. You can hear your bed partner breathing heavily as well, nowhere near as much as you are, but there’s still a distinctive rush of air. 

At least you’re feeling well satisfied after that roll in the hay.  Finally turning your head, your arm dropping to your side with a brush of your fingers along the slick skin of their upper arm. A thought comes to you then. One you can’t hold back from slipping past your lips. 

“Hey, if I can command you to stay does that mean I can command you to cum?” 

Lucifer

Turning his head with his dark hair falling across his forehead and into his crimson eyes. “Try it, and you’ll be gagged the next time I choose to indulge you.” 

Mammon 

His tanned cheeks are lined with pink as he flinches. “Oy, why you gotta go and ruin the moment?” 

Levi 

Those orange eyes of his are wide before he rolls away with a yelp that borders on a squeak before scrambling to grab his clothes. It doesn’t help that the tips of his ears are a bright fire engine red. 

Satan

He doesn’t respond right away, just raises his hand to touch the edge of his chin in thought. A low hum comes from his chest before he does speak. “In theory, it would work, maybe next time we’re several rounds in if you can remember how to talk and my body is nearly drained we could try it. I’d like to see how much cum I could stuff you with.”

Asmo 

“You’d do that to poor me?” Spotting a pout with a whine to his voice before his lips turn into a wicked grin. “If you did I’d just have to start again, Oh!” Sitting up now with his hands together in glee. “I wonder if I’d have less recovery time, we could go for hours~” 

Beel 

The red head is already up and looking for snacks in your room, his head tilting with a slow blink. “As long as it doesn’t hurt like stay.” 

Belphie 

He’s already starting to doze off, cracking one of his vibrant eyes open. “You’d have to do all the work to get yourself off after, I’d have what I wanted.” Drifting off to sleep as if the effort of keeping the conversation going is too much. 

[hotasfahrenheit]

yeah that's right it's weekly umbrella propaganda time!

here we go after another fun quirky hilarious episode (this show is so funny and so bright and colourful and so good y'all how did we even get this lucky with such a great start to The Year Of Vampire BLs)

first off, our repeat umbrellas this week, in episode four:

the ol' reliable Big Red Umbrella (tm), the clearly well loved white lace umbrella (it was perfect for being at the temple!), the bright blue with pompom edging, and the yellow umbrella from the car last week just chilling on the floor next to Pun. (the clearest shot i could get of the umbrella has Kamsai blocking Pun but i swear he's sitting on the couch she's walking towards)

as for new umbrellas, gracing us this episode is a truly glorious piece that @poetry-protest-pornography dubbed the "Ultimate Umbrella" (and she's not wrong) and it's this absolute treasure that Pun uses both outside and inside the house:

OBVIOUSLY this is my favourite umbrella this episode, how could it not be? who could even question or have any doubts?

next up we have a subtle, easy to miss fun lil black and grey number on the floor in the middle foreground with a light grey or white border detail, and our first Giant Porch Umbrella:

(that's an actual cane in the immediate foreground on the left, not an umbrella handle, i was also confused for a moment expecting a new umbrella collector to appear)

then there's another layered/two tone umbrella this week in orange:

and finally, an understated solid black umbrella, as well as a second Giant Porch Umbrella in pink that's joined the purple one from earlier in the episode.

a solid collection of new umbrellas for the catalogue!

if you're wondering why I'm counting these Giant Porch Umbrellas but not the appearance of other giant umbrellas in other episodes that showed up at food stalls, these aren't regular umbrellas, sure, but they're for Pun's soup stall which means they're his, so they're part of his collection.

also because i can do whatever i want 🤣

this episode umbrella count: 6

total series umbrella count: 23

you can check my pun's umbrella catalogue tag for previous weeks of umbrellas!

[bomberqueen17]

archway stencils

i keep forgetting to post about this. I did my archway stencils this past week!

[image description: looking through an orange archway, stenciled with turquoise stars in an alternating pattern, to see the deep teal wall stenciled with larger gold stars I did earlier]

progress shots and discussion under cut!

[image: the stencil, with a central eight-pointed star, and then the partial alternating star in the corners; the stencil is mounted diagonally so that the main star is centered on the archway trim, and there's a corner above and below]

I futzed around a little and this was the direction that worked. I'd thought about just doing that central element and repeating it freehand, but this was easier to line up..... but then to finish it, i would have to do TWO additional passes with the stencil, one on each side.

[image description: the archway in the background with the central element alternating with just the middle of the second element, as left behind by one pass of the stencil; I'm going to have to go back and fill in the sides of the second element. But in the foreground, I am holding my cat, because she insisted.]

I had Help. she wanted me to do this instead of paint. The whole time. She was incredibly persistent.

[image: the archway with one of my secondary passes complete, and the stencil stuck on diagonally showing how I have to separately fill in the left and right of each of the edge elements.]

I had experimented with just plopping the central element over this corner thing, and using that to fill in all the rest at once, but you see how the central element has long diamond-shaped "petals", but the other one has the shorter inward-pointing "petals" in the middle, and then longer petals on the sides? Yeah the longer petals are not shaped like the central element's, even though they look similar-- they are wider throughout. So to blend them with the half-petal deposited by the first pass of the stencil, it looks wonky as hell. And it does look better having a fully different element for every other star, instead of a blended sort-of-weird half-different one. So the long hard way it is; I went all the way down doing the left half then went to the other doorway and did the left half and then came back and did the right half, in totally separate passes, because you can see you have to tape the stencil down over the existing element, and if it were at all damp you're ripping paint off when you do that.

This stencil company does make specific border stencils for some of their designs, and I sort of thought this one was intended for that kind of use, but clearly it's not. I mean it worked fine so I'm not actually annoyed, but I did have to think about it a lot.

Some process notes: I did not use specialty stencil creme for this, I used my sample pot of a slightly lighter shade of the paint I used for the walls. it was semi-gloss because that's what they had for sample pots, and that worked out fine. I put it into the same plastic half-a-cannoli-box tray as before, and used the smaller stencil brush, and I did not really have to add drops of water, as the paint was less thick, but I had almost zero problem with bleeding-- all my problems were that I had to overlap the stencil while still damp and would sometimes get paint on the back of the stencil that then smudged onto bits I didn't want paint on. Paint also built up on the stencil really horribly because I was using it more intensively-- doing the whole wall it was kind of spread out over the huge stencil, but this was a single element. Being able to see through the stencil helped in positioning, so what I eventually wound up doing was that I would position the stencil, tape it down, wipe it clean with a rag, adjust the position, use it, move it to the next location, wipe it clean with a rag, repeat.

It was so hard to get the second element lined up-- you see how the "petal" is done in two pieces? well it never quite lined up and there was always a gap-- that eventually I pulled a plastic milk jug out of the recycling, traced the stencil on it, and cut out a stencil that was *just* a full copy of that half-petal mirrored so I could see if the stencil wasn't going to line up cleanly, I could just focus on lining up one of the petals, and leave the other blank and come back and add it with the standalone whole-petal homemade stencil. Good thing I'm a dab hand with an exacto.

[image description: a star stencil 3/4 complete, but the diagonal petals have gaps in the middle of them] Here's a problem example, and I was getting this on about half of them.

[image description: a piece of flat white plastic, an exacto knife, a cutting board, and a stencil element cut out of the white plastic.]

So instead I would rotate the stencil so one of the petals was good, and leave the other one off entirely to come back and do later.

[image description: looking from the living room through the stenciled archway to the kitchen, and this face of the archway is painted purple, and the wall is repainted to a consistent sunny yellow.]

I know that the most hinged thing to do would have been to just do all the trim orange, and then the wall yellow, and let it be, but I could not resist being fussy and doing the living-room-facing trim back in the living-room-trim purple color. I fortunately was able to find the original pots of paint from when we painted the living room, and it was still good!!!! (mixed in august of '07! amazing) so I repainted the living room wall where it was primer-white after the reconstruction. Looks pretty seamless now! But I have one more light switch faceplate to paint, it looks like. Hmmmmm what color.

The last thing I have left to do is the corner above the front door, where this newly-repainted yellow wall intersects with the wall above the front door that I decided should be kitchen-teal.

I could just do the corner as a flat normal transition. But I want to try to do something fancy, some kind of like pixel-dissolve or like, the stencil bits sticking into the other color, or something.

For now I've painted a cereal box and stuck it up there and I am going to put stenciled attempts on cardboard up there to see what they look like before I commit.

[image description: the corner above the front door of the house. the wall below is the kitchen wall and is teal. the wall above the archway is yellow because it's the living room. the wall above the door is not fully painted but is mostly kitchen teal. the corner is a cardboard cereal box painted yellow on one side and teal on the other, cut to fit.] it is an awkward junction! The most hinged thing would be to keep it simple-- would have been to just do all the trim orange and then the upper wall yellow and just make sure the corner was sharp and clean.

But I'm not that hinged, so I might as well do something that calls attention to it, LOL.

[rjalker]

Moth!!

A cucumber moth apparently! With slightly transparent wings!

How did it get in my room is the question!

[Image description start. Four photos showing a cucumber moth.

The moth holds its wings flat out to the sides, forming a wide rounded triangle like shape. It's head and a border around all of the edges of its wings is solid black, with the inside sections of the wings and its body white. There are two slightly upraised black sections on the border forming small half circles.

At the end of its tail on either side are too orange pom-pom like features, with some silver and black mixed in. His eyes are solid black and hard to see, and it has extremely thin long antenna they're folded down over its back so that they are almost invisible.

The first photo shows the moth from the side showing that it's tail curves upward like a scorpion.

The second shows it from above with a ruler placed below to show that is almost exactly an inch wide.

In these two photos it is sitting on the orange arm of a camper chair, with four sections on its wings that are slightly transparent showing it as pale pink.

The next photo shows it's sitting on a black sweatshirt, with the transparent sections of its wings now gray.

The last photo shows it's sitting on the inside of a clear plastic container, showing that it's belly and the undersides of its wings are pure white, with some of the black border showing through faintly.

Image description end.]

Update half an hour later: the pom poms mean this is a female looking for a mate! They help spread pheromones so makes can find her! Male moths usually have very wide antenna for this purpose, though I wasn't sure if it was the same for this species :)

[ms-paints-sometimes]

a while ago i knitted nepeta's hat from homestuck and i just remembered that there's a pattern on my deviantart but i'm never active on there so i thought i'd share it here!!

disclaimer: i am aware this is not canon-accurate. it's my own design inspired by the original disclaimer 2: idk much about yarn weights or size charts. this is by no means a professional pattern. i'm just writing down what i did incase someone wants to do it too

pattern under keep reading!!

tools & materials: circular knitting needles (i used 3,5mm) a crochet hook (for the edging, mine is 4,5mm) a sewing needle blue, orange, red and yellow yarn (i'm unsure of how much exactly is needed, but it's less than a ball each) 8 stitch markers (it doesn't have to be anything fancy, i literally used safety pins)

abbreviations used: r[n] - row number k - knit p - purl mk1r - make one right (tutorial) mk1l - make one left (tutorial) k2tog - knit two stitches together (tutorial) ssk - slip, slip, knit (tutorial)

ear flaps (make 2): cast on 7 stitches r1: p7 r2: p1, mk1r, k untill 2 stitches before the end of the row, mk1l, p1 r3: k1, p until 1 stitch before the end, k1 repeat rows 2 and 3 for 12 rows (you should have 21 stitches by then) r4: k1, p until 1 stitch before the end, k1 r5: p1, k until 1 stitch before the end, p1 repeat rows 4 and 5 for 10 rows do not cast off

hat: (tip: when knitting on circular needles, place a stitch marker at the beggining of the row) put the 1st ear flap on circular needles, cast on 18 stitches, put the 2nd flap on, cast on 28 stitches knit for 35 rows r36: *k11, place stitch marker*, repeat between ** until the end of the row r37: *k untill 2 before stitch marker, k2tog, put stitch marker on right needle*, repeat between ** until the end of the row r38: k whole row repeat rows 37 and 38 for 20 rows (you should have 8 stitches left) cast off, leave a tail and sew up the top 

horns (make 4): cast on 15 stitches with red yarn r1-r5: k r6: k2tog, k13, ssk switch to orange yarn r7-r9: k r10: k2tog, k11, ssk r11: k r12: k2tog, k9, ssk switch to yellow yarn r13: k r14: k2tog, k5, ssk r15: k r16: ktog, k3, ssk r17: k r18: k2tog, k1, ssk cast off

sew together 2 horn peices and stuff them with scrap yarn/stuffing, then sew onto hat (i recommend pinning it first, so you're sure of the placement)

stars (make 4): stars were made following this pattern, exept i purled uneven rows (1, 3, 5, ect) sew 2 stars together, purl side out. stuff them with scrap yarn/stuffing

border: with a crochet hook and orange yarn, crochet a border around the edges of the hat. this is opional but makes the edges not curl up. i don't know much about crochet so i can't rlly explain this part

chain about 30 stitches with a crochet hook and make a border around the stars. do this twice for both ear flaps

if y'all have any questions lmk in the comments and i'll try to answer!! :3

[pretensesoup]

A Quilt

This is my own pattern, but I believe in releasing these things into the wild, so I'm gonna tell you how to make it.

The original is a crib/baby quilt, so it was envisioned to be 40"x40", which means each square is 8" plus seam allowance. Feel free to do your own quilt math and make it bigger or smaller. If you want like a 50x50 lap quilt, you could add a thicker border around the edge. I don't care. It's your quilt.

Here's a diagram that shows the squares:

There are five types of squares that get repeated.

For type 1, I cut a circle out of the focal material and basically glued it down using an iron-on applique product. Many of these have names like "Heat and Bond." Ask the old ladies at your quilt store if you're not sure which one to get. After I appliqued it, I stitched around the circle with a thread in a pretty color using a zigzag stitch. Because the stitching does take up the fabric a bit, you may want to cut this square a little big (like...9" instead of 8.5") and then trim it if you need to. You will need five circle blocks.

For type 2, I did these as two flying geese, because there are ways to make a lot of flying geese pretty easily. You could also do it as four half-square triangles, or an orange square on point and just sew on the corners. I don't care. I don't think one way is inherently superior, although depending on your fabric, maybe you want fewer seams. Or maybe more seams is easier for you. You will need four blocks like this.

For type 3, you have four half-square triangles (HSTs): one orange/yellow, two light green/yellow, and one dark green/dark blue. Since there are four of these blocks, that works out to four orange/yellow, eight light green/yellow, and four dark green/dark blue. (Damn it, that's math. I wasn't gonna do that.)

Blocks 4a and 4b are mirror images. Each one contains a square of light blue, a square of dark blue, a dark green/light blue HST, and a light blue/light purple HST. Be careful when you assemble these--it is easy to get confused, especially if you don't especially like rotating shapes in your head or whatever. You need four of each (so eight total with these colors).

Block 5 is essentially the same: one light blue square, one light purple square, and two light blue/light purple HSTs. You need four of these.

I put on a dark purple border. If I'd done better math, I would have made it bigger, but whatever.

Tips: Iron everything at every stage. I press my seams to the side rather than open. Spray starch if you have to. Quilt it in the way that makes you the happiest. Bind it with either more dark purple (if you have enough, I didn't) or black (if you have enough, I didn't), or both in some kind of random arrangement (ding).

That's it. Easy, right?

[jedi-lothwolf]

June of Doom Day 7: "What Happened?"

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Summary: What if the golden fleece hadn't been delivered at camp in time? What if they had been too late to save their friends?

  The Party Ponies had been riding for a while now. Percy wished he could sleep or maybe relax some. Hopefully Clarisse had made it to Camp Half-blood and gotten the golden fleece to Thalia's pine tree. Camps magical border kept the campers alive.

    It was starting to get late. The sky was becoming beautiful reds and oranges. Fluffy clouds complimented the colors and the weather was surprising nice. Yet it felt too beautiful.

    When they arrived, Clarisse sat at the edge of camp. She was on her knees, the golden fleece laying on a down pine tree. There was a strong sent of smoke and a faint glow going from the treeline. The world was quiet except for her soft crying.

    "What happened?" Annabeth asked Clarisse as she got off of one of the party ponies.

    "What happened?" Clarisse stood. "What happened?! We were too late, that's what happened! Camp is gone!"

    Getting off of Chiron's back, with his help, Percy walked over to them. Grover joined him. "What do you mean 'camp is gone?'"

    "There's bodies everywhere. The monsters got here first." The girl walked over to the pine tree.

    Tyson found his footing and got off of his Party Pony. He joined everyone else. Looking at everyone, the cyclops had a puzzled look on his face. "What's wrong?"

    "Thalia failed to protect us." Shifting her weight from one leg to the other, Clarisse looked around. Her eyes landed back on the pine tree on the ground.

    That's when they realized it was Thalia's tree the fleece rested on. Annabeth had tears in her stormy eyes. Grover grabbed her and hugged her, crying. It was just them now. There was no tree to go to and there was no older brother to talk to. Luke had caused all of this.

    "We have to do something. There might be some campers still alive." Percy spoke. "We have to try!" He started to walk towards camp.

    Chiron stopped him. "I will investigate."

    "I already tried." With the little light it was hard to see the blood on Clarisse already dark clothes. "There are still monsters in camp. I can tell there are some campers alive, but we can't get to them; not without help anyway. I couldn't find any cabin leaders." She sat back down on the tree. If Clarisse was thinking about battle safely, it was bad.

    "So what I'm hearing is we have to help them! No one else can. The Party Ponies can help, right? Come on guys!" Percy walked towards the Centaurs.

    Chiron walked over to Annabeth to console her. Camp had been her home for so long. Grover kept her in a tight hug. While Percy walked over to the Party Ponies, Clarisse stood once more. She looked towards camp. "If you haven't noticed, the arts and craft cabin is on fire."

    While continuing to walk, Percy spoke. "I was gonna ask at some point which cabin it was."

    As Percy talked to the Centaurs, Clarisse picked up her sword. Annabeth tried to stop crying. The girl knew that she needed to help her family, everything else could come later.

    "It's okay Grover." Annabeth tried to reassure her friend. "Or at least it will be."

    "The Party Ponies say they'll help, we just have to throw them a party later." Percy kind of laughed.

    "What kind of party?" Tyson had an innocent look on his face. He may be a big guy, he was still young.

    "One we can't attend buddy." Percy informed his brother.

    "Why not?"

    "It's an adult kind of party."

    "Okay." Tyson seemed satisfied with that answer.

    "Clarisse, did you see Mr. D anywhere?" Walking to the border, Annabeth grabbed her dagger.

    "Nope."

    "Unfortunately, Dionysus is not prohibited to help the campers with a monster attack such as this one. It's classified as 'mortal affairs'. He would not even be allowed to help Caster and Pollux. In this case, it may have been best for him to leave the premises so as to not attract any more monsters." Chiron looked saddened as he spoke.

    "Oh. That's sad." Tyson grabbed Percy and kept him close.

    "We are Camp Half-Blood's last hope." Clarisse had a way of starting to talk like a military sergeant in movies when she was about to talk about battle. "We'll have to stay in groups of at least two. Watch for injured campers and if you find one, try to keep them alive. We should try to find Apollo kids, we'll need them."

    Drying his tears, Grover spoke up. "Do you think anyone is alive?"

    "We must have hope." Chiron walked over to his cousins and talked to them about the risk of engaging in the battle in camp. They all seemed to understand perfectly. The half-bloods assumed it was the fight to save children's lives that made them be so quick to join; that or the promise of a party thrown by Dionysus.

    The half-bloods gathered closer to the border and talked. "Where did you pick them up." Clarisse asked, nodding her head in the direction of the Party Ponies.

    "We did not pick them up." Tyson said.

    "They picked us up. They rescued us from Luke. It was kind of impressive." Slightly smiling, Percy told her about what had happened on the Princess Andromeda.

    "Luke got taken out by a carton move, twice." Grover laughed. "If it hadn't been life or death, it could have been funny."

    "It sounds like it."

    Tyson chucked as of thinking of the memory almost fondly.

    "We are ready." Chiron walked over to his campers.

    "Alright, let's do this." Percy drew Riptide as they crossed into Camp Half-Blood.

[rosesandalfazemas]

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3

4.  The Lightning Wasteland (Spanish version here)

@engportevents

The sky was pink and the mountains orange, and when the wind passed coming from a black void, it became an iridescent blue; tall grasslands up to the waist of an adult, but clearly untouched by any human. Virgin and natural.

It was a narrow place with its limits, since its white edges fell violently vertically towards nothingness, from which seemed to come a noise similar to the waves of the sea that crashed against white cliffs; even whiter than those that existed in the Earth dimension.

It was like a primitive projection of the same soil they inhabited and had left, to cross here. The directions were the same, the geographical forms too; it changed the logic of time and physics, but it made everything quite recognizable. Especially since in that place the connections were tangible; and Arthur was being pulled as if by a very long invisible umbilical cord, happy to return to his womb.

“Come, get up.”

There was no need to move the mouth the way they do in the mortal realm. Their thoughts were more powerful and it was the true way of communication on that side.

"Where are we?"

Gabriel stood up and noticed his nakedness, like that of his partner. The only difference between their appearances in the mortal world was that their eyes seemed to emanate light from within, and their fibers became a little more visible, revealing their skin. In addition, the blonde had blue Pictish markings on his body, in the form of complex drawings that had already lost their meaning over time.

"On the border of the Emerald Forest," said Arthur, pointing north. "Beyond those hills begins Fairyland."

Gabriel turned on his heel, confused.

“Is there more than the forest on the island? You said that all this was your continent.”

"Of course there's more, don't you remember?"

England pointed to the west, and among the natural fog of the area, which seemed to be the gateway to  the human world, a very distant structure could be seen, in the shape of several superimposed towers.

"The Great Gray Castle" whispered Portugal, looking towards said direction "Where all the European kingdoms were born"

Arthur then pointed south, where there seemed to be other intersecting mountains farther away.

The hills, which seemed to almost be floating by themselves, had a huge bush with kilometer-long roots, which covered all the space that could be seen. It was not very tall but it was voluminous in leaves; bone-colored, as if petrified. But each part of its branches were covered in flowers, loaded with small cream-colored petals, which fell off like drops and danced in the air that passed them, in large numbers. And its branches, circular and entangled in themselves, protected the small fruits with sharp and long thorns along their entire length.

“The Holy Hawthorn” whispered Portugal, taking a few steps forward. “The last drop of light of Uriel, my godfather. It’s..."

"The Lightning Wasteland."

Evoking that name changed the landscape. The sky turned green and the winds blew in the direction of the floating islet, between the narrow land they stood on and what seemed to be the beginning of Europe, between the Iberian zone and Belgium.

"This..." Port took a few more steps, astonished "I thought it had disappeared."

"Why would it, dear?" Arthur walked over and stood next to him. "Actually, they’re relieved that you remember now."

"How is it still there? I know what you had to do to create it.”

“I did what was necessary. Even though I was very young, it was one of the brightest ideas I had in my life.”

"Also the most irrational..." replied the brunette, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, and the blonde puffed out his chest, with that big smile that victors emanated before their victories.

“That is precisely why I am proud of it. Their livelihood is still alive." Bright eyes looking at the others, "I tore out a piece of the Great Gray Castle to knead the earth, and plant its thorny seed to hold firm forever, individualized from all else."

"You almost disintegrated yourself in the audacity."

"It was worth it. It’s still here, precisely, because it was built with my love. A love that has never ceased." Gabriel suddenly turned to better see him "It is the reason why it continues to exist. Because I can lie about anything to the universe and the universe will believe me; but I never stopped loving you, Gabriel Dos Anjos, never."

“Arthur...”

He wanted to kiss him, on an impulse of his human rationality. But, they were nothing there, and everything. And so...

“We can’t be here, at this deep level” recalled Portugal, coming out of his own emotion. “We are the main form; and if we don't move, the other facets will start closing in on us.”

"Are you afraid of that?" England looked at him curiously, and the other rolled his eyes.

"I’m not afraid. But they can't all be stacked in the same place; they’ll disturb us.”

"It's true," the blonde conceded. “That is why we must go quickly to the Lighting Wasteland”

"But... how will we do it?" The Lusitanian looked forward again "It seems to be floating in the mid air."

"It's floating, yes, like a boat in the ocean" England smiled "I did it that way on purpose. It can only be accessed in one way: flying"

"Flying?" Gabriel looked at him suddenly "We can't fly!"

"I can’t, but you can."

Portugal stopped, a great pain in his temple made him shake his head with concern. He recognized the feeling; its other forms, the facets throughout its history and centuries, that made it up and had once been the main body of the country's vessel, were drawing closer, drawn like moths to the light. And for all of them to get out of their place and get closer was not the idyllic state that a Nation could have as such; above all, considering that he needed coherence so that his people were in the same place from which they left and to which they returned in their homes.

"We have to go, now." the man said worriedly. The blonde then reached for his ear, scratching it annoyed.

"Yes, they’re coming" he sighed tiredly and somewhat indifferently. “Surely the Pirate will want to know how to navigate the Empty Sea and fail… again.”

“How am I supposed to fly!? I don't know how to fly." The brunette looked at him desperately, holding his hair that fluttered in the wind.

"Not with that body, of course."

Gabriel paused for a moment, until he realized what he was suggesting.

"You must be kidding, Artinho."

"Of course not! Here everything is possible. You only have to think of your original form; as if you imagined it on the human plane” he made a gesture. "I assure you that you will succeed."

"But-!"

Louder noises began to mobilize the meadow hills behind them. Steps of various types; sighs, noises, groans, screams and laughter.

"Here they come, and they are deploying amongst themselves," the blonde deduced. "Maybe the more solid ones will reach us, I don't know" he scratched his chin. “I lost the motivation to come and see them.”

“Arthur!I can’t concentrate enough to do this! I haven't done it in hundreds of years."

“Think fast, marido” he squinted, “Or this will become a problem in a few minutes.”

"I-!"

The noise grew shriller, and the sky turned purple, beginning to thunder without a storm.

“Caralho, Arthur! You- you’re having fun with this, aren’t you?”

"I know you can do it! It's like taking a bicycle again after a lifetime without riding on one; muscle memory, the body remembers right away.”

The noise became annoying alongside the flashes in the sky, which looked like horizontal lightning.

"That's a stupid comparison!" raised his voice.

“Oh Arthur~ Where are you, you bourgeois rat? I have a gift for you.”

“I also want some…”

Behind them, two figures began to take shape among the wind-swaying grass. They were copies of them but dressed in extravagant ways, looking at them heavily.

“What are you doing here, modern forms? You’re far from home.”

“Perhaps they want to lend us the continent for a while. It's been a long time since we crossed the Bridge.”

The newcomers laughed together in a metallic voice, as if canned somewhere. As they approached, one drew a long golden scimitar, the other two silver and emerald pistols. They walked with a circular gait, swaying their hips as if they were dizzy, but it was the forging of their feet, raised in the swaying of the ships that they’d sailed at sea.

"How are you, Tiger of the Seven Seas?" Arthur turned to him calmly, "You’re active today."

"I won't waste an opportunity like this, Sir Arthur Kirkland." the pirate captain whispered, holding up his wide-brimmed black hat, while its feathers flew along with his red jacket in the wind.

"That much is clear, and you came with the Golden Ottoman Gypsy Thief" he greeted the other, who gave him a half smile.

"I’m the best navigator in the entire Dream World, cari," the brunette buccaneer answered. “Finding you was child's play.”

"I know. And you know as well as I do that it’s not prudent for you to stray from your plains or your seas, gentlemen."

“Nor you from yours, modern form... for that reason, we came to take advantage of your absence, like the good criminals that we are.”

As they got closer, Gabriel noticed that Arthur was looking at them calmly, facing them without moving - much more used to seeing them head-on. Then, he realized: he was buying him some time. Because if their copies managed to touch them in this place, it could mean a fusion that would be reflected in the human world anachronistically... and it would not be pleasant at all.

“I would love to stay and chat with you and update you, but we have a short stay due to scheduling, and we must leave now.” Kirkland smirked.

“Where? You have no place to escape to here.” the Gypsy scolded. “You don't even know where you are.”.

“Oh, we know perfectly well. However, we won't be stepping on anything else while we’re here.”

On the next step from the clones from their Pirating Era, the earth trembled slightly under their feet; the mist that seemed to overshadow the entire environment dispersed from the air and swirled behind the blond, like a kind of whirlwind that started small and grew with consistency and shape. When the vortex absorbed the air currents in its favor, it began to rise upwards, before the astonished eyes of their clones who had never seen anything like it.

“What the hell is that?!” The English pirate asked suspiciously, pointing with his sword. “Is it a spell, modern form?”

"No. It is the power of a dominant clone, Tiger."

Before they could say anything else, a roar seemed to stop the winds; taking the breath of the two pirates, who looked up in astonishment.

From behind the mist a gigantic figure loomed, rearing up on its full form, looking down with its aquamarine eyes.

"Is that... is that me?" asked the Gypsy, astonished. England smirked.

“Yes and no, gypsy. We'd love to philosophize about it but, like I said, we've got things to do,” Arthur said with a haughty nod. “My husband and I must leave now."

Out of the wind-swept mists a gigantic four-legged dragon was seen, sitting beside England’s form. It was more than five meters high and wide, with membranous wings and blue scales, iridescent to green and gold according to the reflections of light. It blew smoke from its snout, staring down at them.

"Marido," the creature's hoarse voice whispered, shaking its head and tail restlessly. “Let's go now."

"Of course, darling."

The dragon spread his wings several meters to the sides, in a stretching position. He leaned in slightly and Arthur climbed onto his neck and sat between his shoulder blades. In the next second, despite its large body, the serpent flapped its wings and took off into the air with great speed.

“Oh no! You won't get away this time!”

The British pirate pointed his pistol into the air as the dragon spun for momentum and launched. The shots grazed the Englishman's temple, whistling near the dragon's ear.

"I told you, riding a bike!" Arthur yelled into the air, slapping his husband on the back of the neck. "I knew you'd remember."

"Close mouth" the creature answered categorically, while they flew at full speed.

In a matter of seconds, the Empty Sea was visible behind the white hills and, a while later, the Holy Hawthorn was present on that piece of floating island; there, where clearly only a being like Portugal could reach.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

One of Us is a Killer (part 3)

First part: https://www.tumblr.com/residents-of-the-darkforest/738940160410058752/one-of-us-is-a-killer?source=share

Previous: https://www.tumblr.com/residents-of-the-darkforest/739047962939949056/one-of-us-is-a-killer-part-2?source=share

=======

Going solely on what kin say in Lifegen every six moons, we build a story, and, more importantly, a resident

Please feel free to comment your interpretations of what is happening or your thoughts on the characters!

Who are your suspects so far?

Main character: Burnetshriek -- Lonesome

Mother: Wetfish (deceased) -- Wise

Mom: Beaverspeckle -- Adventurous

Sister: Midgefreckle -- Calm

Brother: Yewstripe -- Strict

Brother: Privetdusk (deceased) -- Ambitious

Mate: Heathertree -- Loving

Daughter: Battumble -- Noisy -> Sneaky

Son: Yarrowpaw (deceased) -- Attention-seeker

Son: Rubblenettle -- Troublesome

Son: Jaggeddusk -- Honest -> Righteous

Son: Coniferkit -- Impulsive -> Fierce

Conifer is 15 moons younger than his older littermates.

Side note: [....] in speech indicates that Burnetshriek has said something.

Bonus side note: orange highlights previously indicated that something was not directed at Burnetshriek or didn't have to do with her. Now, it's for text that is a repeated conversation.

.

.

MOON 78:

Mom: "Did you see Battumble earlier today, Burnetshriek? Oh, StarClan, it was the funniest thing ever! They mistook a twig for a fox and flew, like, five fox-lengths into the air! Hahahaha!"

.

Midgefreckle: "Hey, Burnetshriek, are you....are you busy? [...] Listen I...I just need someone to talk to, and you're the only one I can talk to. I'm...Listen. What do you think happens when we leave the living, and we join StarClan? I wonder what that's like. [...] I'm less worried about the pain, and more...Will I be missed by the Clan after I leave? I'm not the most talkative cat in the world, and that makes me worry that I've never made an impact to anyone. [...] Huh? A mouse-brain? [...] You're telling me that I worry too much?.... Yeah, I suppose that's true. It's what I'm good at, I suppose, Getting caught in myself. [...] You'd miss me? Oh, Burnetshriek...thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me. It sometimes feels like you're the only cat who looks for me in a den. [...] ....Yeah, I'll be okay. I'm just in a little funk at the moment. Do you want to go hunting? I think that'd be better than me sitting here feeling sorry for myself."

.

Yewstripe: "Get up, Burnetshriek! We gotta go on a special patrol to check the WindClan border! [...] Of course I'm serious, mouse-brain! Are you really gonna make me break it down for you? [...] Birdstar gave me this assignment, and told me to pick the cat in the Clan I trust the most to accompany me on it. Lo and behold, that's you! Now c'mon, lazybones! We've got a long walk ahead of us!"

Permanent Condition: weak leg

.

Heathertree: "There are days when I wonder about the purpose of love...But then, I look at you, and I'm reminded."

.

Battumble: "Hey, Burnetshriek, my buddy, my pal...Get this, Coniferpaw just asked me to go get more moss for the medicine den. There's this real nice place I like to go out near the edge of the territory, near this beautiful babbling brook...I was just about to leave, but then I figured 'Hey, you know who deserves a little break today? Burnetshriek. She just works so hard.' So, how 'bout it, ma? It's right on the ThunderClan border, these huge swaths of moss, you can't miss it. [...] You'll go? Perfect! Have fun on your walk, and try to enjoy yourself! You deserve it!" [Did Bat just trick Burnet into doing her chores for her?].

.

Rubblenettle: "I love you, Burnetshriek. And...I'm sorry if I don't say it enough, either. Without you, I don't know what I'd do."

.

Jaggeddusk: [A conversation makes Burnet realize, with a jolt, that Jagged is now old enough to face the enemy Clan in battle. She imagines her little kit torn to shreds at the claws of enemy warriors...Or worse, her baby's maw dripping with blood, forced to take another cat's life in the name of the Clan. She draws closer to Jagged and wrap a protective tail around him, much to his confusion. Burnet silently vows not to have anything bad happen to him, not ever].

.

Coniferpaw: "There's too much to do right now. Let's talk later."

.

.

MOON 84:

Mom: "Hey sweetie...You're looking a little small, there. Have you been eating enough? Doing the excercises I gave you? [...] You know, you might think that the shoulders are the most important muscle, but it's all in the hindquarters. You're gonna wanna do at least five sets of leg lifts every day then..." [Beaverspeckle begins to describe her workout routine in detail....."And that's all there is to it! It might seem excessive, but I swear, it all pays off in the end."

.

Midgefreckle: "Oh, Burnetshriek, are you busy? [...] I...was going on a hunting patrol, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me? [...] Huh? No, I don't mean 'pretend to go hunt so I can go birdwatching'....well. Not for the whole hunt. [...] Hehe, okay then, we'll go actual hunting then, I'll only do a bit of birdwatching."

.

Yewstripe: [Burnet asks Yew if the rumours about them and Mouseshadow are true]. "What? Me and Mouseshadow? C'mon, don't be ridiculous! Why would I ever like Mouseshadow? Sure, I guess they're kind of pretty, and--and smart, and they make me laugh like no one else can...Not to mention talented...and hardworking....and their smile, great StarClan, there's nothing else like it....But--But it's not like I like them, or anything!"

Permanent Condition: weak leg

.

Heathertree: "Sorry, Burnetshriek! No time to talk right now, I just got a task from Mouseshadow. I'll be sure to catch up with you some other time, though!"

.

Battumble: "Hey, Burnetshriek, what was that one story you used to tell us in the nursery? The one about the kit who went missing about not eating all their fresh-kill?" [Burnet retells the story]. "Ah, yes, that's the one! StarClan, it was driving me crazy, not remembering...Kind of a messed up story, no?" [Burnet concedes that maybe it was a little morbid]. "But, hey, I guess I've always cleaned my bones since then."

.

Rubblenettle: "Burnetshriek! Burnetshriek! Ever try balancing a pinecone on your nose? [...] Watch the master at work. [Rubble balances a pinecone]. Now you try!"

.

Jaggeddusk: "Good morning, Burnetshriek, how are you today? Did you hear that rain on the den roof last night? [...] It was really loud, it sounded like hundreds of tiny paws slamming on the roof up there. I wonder if StarClan came to visit us, in the form of the rain?"

.

Coniferpaw: "Hey. Bet I could beat ya in a fight! [...] Sure, I have no formal training, but once I let my inner dark warriors out..." [Conifer does an exaggerated growl, and he and Burnet both explode in laughter]. "y-you're lucky I'm a lover, not a fighter! *wheeze*!"

.

Yarrowkit (daughter, 0 moons): Grr

.

Tallkit (son, 0 moons): MROOW!

[heathfall]

HalfClan, Moons 13-18

Moon 13: A loner meets a patrol at the edge of the border, asking to join HalfClan. He's accepted and takes on the name Kelloggslight

Kelloggslight! He's a rather handsome former loner, for a man named after cereal. He's 102 moons. Cold and a good teacher. What a lad.

Mousedapple and Frogears both die from eating tainted prey. The Clan decides no cat is fit to be deputy in Mousedapple's stead. (I'm really sad about this. I was looking forward to Frogears x Marigoldfrost).

(I guess no one told Mousedapple that he died.)

Moon 14: No one is fit to be deputy. The Clan is really falling into turmoil without Mousedapple and Frogears. Everyone is spreading rumors about each other (there's literally only one positive relationship event this moon out of the nine, and it's Marigoldfrost telling a story to Cricketstar)

Patrol time! I'm sending out the Orange Squad (Cricketstar, Jasperstream, Marigoldfrost, and Kelloggslight). They come across a strong dog. Cricketstar, the strict leader that she is, demands that they attack it. Marigoldfrost, fierce as she is, agrees. They work as a team, pushing the creature away from the territory with no injury.

Moon 15: No one is fit to be deputy. Cricketstar loses a life to a QuietClan warrior (down to four). The Clan gets along better this moon.

Moon 16: No one is fit to be deputy. Brackentail is beginning to fight with Cricketstar over what she considers right. The Clan is fighting again (out of ten interactions, only one is positive, and it's the old ladies sharing prey with each other).

Patrol time! Sending out Brackentail, Jasperstream, Turtlerun, and Kelloggslight. Kelloggslight has had a StarClan dream, and talks to Brackentail over what it could mean for the Clan. Brackentail and Kelloggslight discuss this in detail and work to divine its meaning.

Moon 17: No cat is fit to be deputy. Alderfur earns a scar fighting a dog on Cricketstar's orders. Alderfur is 141 moons old (pushing 12 years old). She's been an elder since moon one.

(once again, I can't see her scar. she's just a silly old lady.)

Marigoldfrost has caught wind of Kelloggslight's vision, and now believes that she is part of the new prophecy: Snowfall will cover the struggles of the past and allow the Clan to become whole.

(Not super relevant, but I think it's kinda fun that she was recently chastised by the deputy. There is no deputy, but he WAS her mentor prior to his death.)

Moon 18: No cat is fit to be deputy. Cricketstar and Marigoldfrost interact again. Cricketstar grows frustrated with Marigoldfrost, now two years old, not taking warrior duties seriously. Nectarfoot and Jasperstream help Marigoldfrost work some difficult issues.

Patrol time! Sending out Marigoldfrost, Jasperstream, Kelloggslight, and Turtlerun. They go hunting and find success hiding their scent in a smelly bush. Sounds nasty, but if it works, it works.

Scene (Moon 16):

Nectarfoot laid in the late greenleaf sun, letting the warmth spread through her aching joints. The camp was quiet, and she allowed herself to feel an uneasy peace.

A nearby rustle caused her to open her eyes. Alderfur was returning, a squirrel hanging in her jaws.

"That looks good," she said. "Did you catch it yourself?"

"I did."

"I'm surprised you could run fast enough to catch a squirrel. I thought your shoulders would crumble into dust." Alderfur hmphed.

"I guess you don't want any, then." Nectarfoot twitched an ear.

"I didn't say that." Alderfur shuffled the squirrel closer.

"Well, take some," she said. "But move over and let me into the sun first." Nectarfoot obliged. They ate in silence for a while, making quick work of the squirrel.

"Why did you share?" Nectarfoot asked, when she had finished.

"I haven't always been nice to you," Alderfur said. "But with the way things are going in this Clan, I think we need to stick together. I'm too old to keep running."

[cyanocoraxx]

the robot and the old man JUCKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! jk it's just a drabble about the ex-pirate losers because they're on my mind lately

-

In order to undertake the night sea journey, one must first agree to exile nothing. The first journey into this Styx was their voyage to that fateful island, which told all without him needing to speak a word - not that any words would have changed their fate. The last journey, perhaps, was tonight - a glass of orange rum in the man's grip, which he quickly finished and tossed to the ground with a clink.

"Captain Cameron, you know that the word coxswain doesn't mean that you have a shipmate who tends to your cock, right?"

"Ah, C-53. You're still funny, I see."

"Are you sure it's not made of wood?"

"I'm sure. Want to check?"

"I'm good. Just making conversation."

C-53 shifted his weight from one foot to the other, leaning his frame against the wooden fence that bordered the seafront. His fingertips brushed over it for a moment - it was familiar to him, for it once made up his entire form.

"It's… nice. To talk. Without the impending doom of the universe hurrying us along."

"Indeed it is, C-53."

The hull of a ship floating in the quay bobbed lazily as if it had decided to spend the night there. The wood of the vessel bore a deep, rich brown, and its sail billowed in the gentle wind, billowing alabaster and cherry. His fingers came to rest around the edge of the fence, smoothing over the slightly rugged texture. It was there that C-53 felt something come into focus - a glaringly obvious error that he continued to pretend wasn't there. He felt conflicted.

C-53 had never liked to be conflicted about anything. He was the self-assured, all-knowing crewmate to many people - having something he couldn't instantly fix was a great bother, and this was definitely worse. And when he couldn't fix something, it made him easy to anger, easy to upset.

"Rod damn you, Cameron. They all ask me about you, damn it- but you're the secret I won't tell, the ghost that haunts me, and I really should laugh this off once and for all and let this be but I… remain sorry. I just need you to know that."

The wind smoothed over C's frame, carrying a sprinkle of sea salt that came to rest atop his shoulders. He remained still as Cameron shifted to lean one arm against the fence, turning to face him.

Cameron shrugged a shoulder as if letting the words roll off of his body. With a couple of drinks in his system, the old pirate wasn't so quick to back down on this tonight. "Every appendage I have is made of wood. We wouldn't have been so different, back then, if you had stayed."

C-53 heaved a sigh. He turned his head away, optics narrowed as renewed shame flooded his systems. "We don't have to do this, Cameron. Not tonight. I'm sorry, I know you've had a few."

"I think you're forgetting the part of the story where you betrayed me-"

And there was that uncertainty. Was C right or not? All these years, he had been unsure of himself, of his decision, and he needed to feel right. Cameron pushing him only brought this out faster.

C turned to him and pointed a finger, pausing as though he was collecting the thoughts he had already surmised before speaking. "I waited for you."

A small gust of wind cast the salt off of C's shoulders. He withdrew his finger, immediately doubting himself once again. Raising his voice at his old captain still felt unnatural. He muttered a brief apology and folded his arms, defensive.

Cameron held C's gaze for a long moment. Then, he exhaled through his nose and smiled, now simply amused at the droid's vigor. There was the C he knew - always needing to be correct, but still with a bucket of emotions that occasionally overflowed when his buttons were pushed.

"Aye, you did. Faithful to the end - almost the end. To think… the small cube I became so enthralled with out on the ocean hiked his way into the same quarter that I was in not just once, but thrice. Some luck, eh?"

The ex-pirate reached over and patted the droid's back, a friendly gesture. C's annoyance dissipated pretty soon after that.

C managed a small chuckle, trying to pick up his mood from the gutter. "That's some pseudo-poetic fate right there. You were always good at motivational speeches, Captain."

"Sure. Look, I'm sorry, too." Cameron finally admitted, hanging his head but retaining his smile. "We both jucked up, you know?"

"Hmm." C watched Cameron's reaction with curiosity. The man had already apologized to him, but hearing it in this setting, where they were more at home, felt... different. "Let's take this down to the beach. For old times' sake."

"Yes… for old times' sake."

The man and the droid wandered down closer to the seafront, finding their feet upon sand as if it called them there. The shore opened up before them as a clock, one told in the song of eventide colours and a dreamscape of salt.

"What did you say this frame was called again?"

"The Country Gentleman."

"It suits you."

"Thanks. It doesn't compare to the Midnight Shadow, but I quite like it myself."

With eyes on him, C ventured to look at Cameron, too - really look at him. Cameron looked rather different under the sunset shaded by deepening clouds. He hardly seemed like the impulsive pirate who betrayed him back then. A tea-coloured shirt complete with various stains, haggardly tucked into his pants, was not buttoned shut. The weathered eye patch covered the better half of his face, where scars were evident beneath - the roundness of the patch not quite doing it justice. His body showed age, while C's did not - but mentally, C was tired.

They were both older now. C-53 drew his gaze away after a long moment - his thoughts played on repeat, that the man was still beautiful. Still the first person he loved. The sound of his heavy boots hitting the sand was familiar, and he tuned into that as they wandered along.

C was the first to speak again, unfolding his arms - open to conversation again. "Well, consider me notified that we both jucked up."

Cameron's eye flicked down. "Speakin' of jucked up- look at your hands… never been worked a day. Are you sure you're not too high and fancy for the sea now?"

C-53 shrugged a shoulder and inspected his knuckles. "I suppose they're clean and tidy. Wouldn't write them off if I were you, though."

C startled for a split second as he felt a wooden hand grab his own. His fans hitched as Cameron leaned closer to him - he was sure if he had a sense of smell, the off-scent of rum from the man's bellows would be infiltrating his senses - and he looked up to meet Cameron's dark but warm gaze.

"So unsullied by the labours of the sea, C-53… we should change that." Cameron suggested with a wink - or, a blink, C couldn't tell.

"I've done the work, Cameron. I've lived as a humidifier, a fireplace, a sex bot, the Midnight Shadow, an iron maiden, a lifter droid, Horsehat, a toaster, a K'hekk weaver- you get the point. I think it's time that we rest for a while. Put that chapter behind us."

Cameron slowly released C's hand. "Aye. We're getting too old for this. Maybe rest is the work."

Even so, the ocean remained a tantalizing piece of their past dangling in their faces. C-53 gazed out across the open waters, where a breeze brought a long-awaited respite to his sleek armour. Silhouettes of sea birds arced above, playful upon the swirling updrafts. The rotting posts of the old pier, the overturned and weathered pebbles, conjured more memories. The taste and feel of home.

"I... think it is." C agreed. He decidedly picked up a pebble, tested its weight in one hand, and then skipped it across the waves with mechanical precision. "Besides, I'm not too enthusiastic about you falling overboard and into a deep, freezing grave. I'm not sure you could climb back aboard these days, what with you being around 80% wood now."

"It's glazed. It won't rot- not that fast." Cameron rebutted the claim with folded arms, watching the pebble skip and then sink into the depths. His lips pressed into a premature smirk that C knew all too well - the ghost of the confident, put-together captain he knew. Privately, Cameron was impressed by the droid's skill, and the fact that he could even do that now. Seeing the droid he once knew as his faithful ship was strange, yes, but somehow felt right - not on account of him having a more humanoid form, but the autonomy behind it. It was a freedom that C deserved, without having someone else force him into it.

C-53 chuckled heartily, unaware of Cameron's inner dialogue. "Of course it is. Tell me... did you varnish your parts because you thought that maybe, just maybe, one day you might... end up back here, back home?" He lifted a hand and methodically buttoned up Cameron's shirt for him - startling Cameron for a moment as his attention was torn away from the pebble - the small detail that it was undone had been bothering him.

"Still a perfectionist, I see." Cameron ventured to take C's hand back in his. Smoothed a thumb over the sleek black paint of the droid's palm. "Misty. Walter. Bargie. Spleen, I guess- none of them have ever compared to you, C-53."

C-53 closed his hand around Cameron's this time. His optics softened and, as if by some natural force, he took Cameron's other hand into his own. That bucket was now filling with something else, and he daren't look inside to see what it was.

"Of course, they didn't. I was different. You were just too afraid to admit that. You thought I'd be another fling. Another distraction."

"Aye, perhaps I was afraid of that. That wasn't your fault. I... shouldn't have waited for you to change- no, told you to change. All we've talked about is you leaving me, but never me... doing what I did to you."

C's gaze fell downward, but his grip on the man's hands tightened. This part was still raw, much like salt in an open wound, and it was a part he had avoided for years. "It made me feel like I wasn't enough as I was, Cameron. After I left, I spent years wondering what it was about me, about my form, that..."

Cameron released one of C's hands, using his newly freed one to pick up the droid's chin. "C-53. There was nothing wrong with you. As you were then, as you are now... you never failed me."

"Except for when I did fail you," C ventured, narrowing his optics a little, "when I abandoned you because I couldn't take you not... not loving me as I was. But I never, never in a million years, wanted you to go down the way you did."

"As I said before, we both jucked up, C... but let me say something right this time. I'm older, I'm wiser, I have experience under my belt. You've lived lives I don't even know about, and I went my own way. But I never stopped thinking about you." Cameron spoke softly, gently moving C's head to maintain eye contact with him. "I hated you, and I loved you. Either way, I kept feeling things about you that wouldn't go away. You didn't fail me. You showed me that I was a jucking idiot."

C's optics tried to wander, yet he kept bringing his gaze back to the man in front of him. The solemn expression on his faceplate slowly lifted as his ex-lover spoke. Cameron was speaking to him with a tenderness he oh so dearly missed, and it poked at a special, deep part of his metaphorical heart. He missed this. He wanted this, but he was so sure he couldn't have it. Not after what he had done, not after the years Cameron spent admittedly hating him.

But whatever dark thoughts C was having, Cameron effortlessly lifted him back out as if he were an anchor.

Cameron leaned in close, moving his hand to cup C's face. "I love you, C-53. As you were, as S.E.A.-53, and the new C-series standing before me. My faithful ship, my lover, the cube I wanted to wed. It's all you. You are who I've always wanted, no matter the form you take - although, I must say, your form now is incredible- I was young and blinded by impulse back then. Stupid."

C forced a small laugh and tried to look away, trying to put a small distance between himself and the inner turmoil. "This is awfully poetic of you. Did you take up writing classes when you were imprisoned-"

"I was stupid to let you go."

Cameron let impulse man his ship and pressed a kiss to C's cheek. He held it there for a long moment, letting it sink in, and then cupped the droid's face with both wooden hands. C shuttered his optics and stared back at Cameron, dumbfounded - he had half-expected the words to be hollow, learning over the years to trust very few people - but he swiftly softened. The sunset ocean breeze coated Cameron's wooden arms in a light mist of brine, and the waves gently pounded the beach with white foam spray.

It was then that C-53 had come home. The man he loved, the faithful ocean, a crew back on the ship who appreciated him, and the endless surprises that life brought to him.

Maybe he could have this. Maybe this was his.

"I-I can't kiss you back, Cameron, I don't have a-"

"Aye, just shut up and do it."

Right there, it was just the perfect coolness to keep the men there in the present, where they were happiest. C-53 placed his arms over the old pirate's shoulders and gently swayed with him as he was kissed again, and again, and again. This was his, and he was claiming it like one of their many bounties upon the sea.

"Is there wood in your pants or are you happy to see me?"

[sharoo]

Scouting the Cult p.2

"Are you Briar?"

The vixen flinched, standing up abruptly and turning around. She looked moved her sun hat up to see who is speaking to her.

Behind her, at the edge of the pumpkin patch where the tree roots and shrubs denoted the border between the tamed ground and the wilderness, stood a blackbird in a cloak the colours of autumn leaves.

"Who are you?" Briar asked, holding a basket of seeds in front of her for protection. The sword on the stranger's back gleamed; its polished iron edge made her back tingle with unpleasant familiarity.

Perceptive of people's fears, Camio took a few steps back, removing the sword to lay at his feet. After that, his orange eyes met hers as he greeted her with a polite bows of the head. "My name is Camio. I apologise for frightening you, I mean no one harm. Harming those who have not harmed you is spilling pointless blood." A blade galvanised in such material is a vicious thing.

"I'm glad to hear that, but why are you here?" he was not wearing the garb of Narinder's follower, which means he must have been an outsider. And of those, she was quite wary.

"I used to frequent these grounds to train the previous leader of this cult. The older followers, such as Barbatos or Junati, know me, if you worry. I have not visited in some time."

Seeing, however, that she still visibly didn't believe him, Camio reached under his cloak and pulled out a skull shaped pendant on a thin black chain. A Skull Necklace, an artefact of longevity rather unique to the cult of Death.

Lamb had given it to him rather early into their training. A gift.

Briar's eyes gleamed in recognition, and she relaxed, putting down her improvised basket shield.

"What brings you to me then?"

"I heard your tale, back in the cathedral. You spoke about how, when you were slain, you saw a lamb before you were revived."

"Yes, Dola, the shepherd. It's thanks to them I'm here." Briar ran her paw up and down her forearm. The memory was still not comfortable to recount.

"If I may ask... What did they look like?"

"Oh, well... I'm sorry, my memory's a little fuzzy. I remember they wore a veil and a white and gold robe. And they bore a staff with a bell, I remember it ringing as I woke up to see them... They were radiant, though. Serene, like a divinity." She paused. "I think they were also missing a horn. I can't tell why that detail stuck in my mind, but I think that's the case."

Recognition shone in his orange eyes. Lamb lost their horn during one of their many battles with Shamura's monstrosities. This only confirmed that Narinder did not get rid of them - they were still serving under him.

(It was reassuring. He's spent several days trying and failing to see if their body was anywhere in the mortal plane, so that they could at least be buried with dignity.)

This meant they were not gone... maybe he could even met them. It was relieving, even if the circumstances were not any less oppressive.

"Priest Baal spoke of who Dola was, back when they were mortal. How they served to free Lord Narinder. If you desire knowledge, I'd seek his help. I only met them briefly, but he knows much more than what I could tell you."

"I shall keep it in mind." He, however, did not trust whoever the god of death appointed to spread his teachings to tell him what he needs to know. Or to not try to stop him for that matter.

Camio looked over to Briar as he picked his sword and hung it on his back again. If I inquire where she met them, she will know where I'm headed... I can't risk having someone follow me. It would put her in danger as well.

"Did you want to ask something?" the vixen tilted her head, noticing his pause.

"...Stay safe, Briar. I worry that the future might be more turbulent than we expect. And thank you for your knowledge."

And before she could respond, he disappeared into the brush, blending in with the shadows and branches.

She wondered who he really was, and what he was searching for...

And what exactly did he meant by turbulent times being on the horizon.

[prev] [next]

[woodelf68]

Yarn art for Dogust.

[ghostonly]

Fixing up a shirt that's too big and needs tailoring.

A couple years ago, I kept thinking to myself, how does one even acquire goth or grunge clothing? And the conclusion I came to is that you need either a lot of money for band merch and studded leather and all that shit, or you need to get your hands in it and fuck around with what you have and make something grungy and homemade, so that's what I'm doing cause I'm poor as shit lmao

Now that my chest is flat, and I'm recovered enough and have a minute, I'm making up a shirt that I've been planning to do for like over a year now. I ordered a few things a year and a half ago and I fucked up the order because they didn't have any 3-6x sizes in stock for this plain, black shirt I wanted, but they did have 7x, and I said, "fuck it, it'll be baggy but it probably won't be THAT much bigger than the stuff I usually wear."

I was very wrong

I've been wearing them anyway (I've got 2 of them) but like, they don't look good lmao. These things are made for one of those guys who is not only large but built like a fucking skyscraper

But lots of extra fabric means great for customizing in a fun way. So anyway I have been wanting to put the cover of The Twilight Sad album "nobody wants to be here and nobody wants to leave" on a shirt, cause it's a great album and the art is a great vibe, but the art is in white. I looked up some ways to put white on black fabric and decided to make a bleaching stencil

Here are some progress shots from while I was working on it. I guessed at the CD shape and then freehand copied the outline of the art with a 5x4 comparison grid

I made this strip to block out where letters would go with the intention of painting on the details with additional bleach after spraying

Then used a razor knife to cut where I wanted the border to go through on the drawing when I sprayed it with bleach

After the stencil was ready, I stuck the shirt around a big plastic drawer so that the bottom of the drawer would be a working surface and the bleach wouldn't bleed onto the back of the shirt (as u can see, it is a very large shirt :') there was actually extra fabric I clipped onto the drawer's edge with binder clips)

Before I actually starting with the spraying, I did also stick more cardstock (it's not regular paper, it's like twice as thick) under the edges of the stencil frame to guard the rest of the shirt, but I didn't get a picture of that

This is my first time doing this and you're not actually supposed to do it with paper but I didn't realize that until I'd already spent like 2 hours making it, so i said fuck it, it's fine if it isn't perfect. You're supposed to make it with freezer paper and iron it onto the shirt temporarily and the temporary adhesion of the plastic keeps the bleach and shit from spreading and the stencil from moving (both would have been really handy but Oh Well 😪)

So after spending an hour spraying the bleach and adding detail with a broken-off pencil I kept dipping in bleach (I was trying to use the method of a guy who used a wooden skewer but I don't have any) this is what I've got

It's messy as hell but I kinda like that it is. Looks fucked up in a good way and that's what I like about doing crafts for grungy purposes - it's very low stress, if not low effort

I don't think it's that orange irl but the sun had mostly gone down so I was taking pictures under a lamp

I was surprised at how well the intact lines came out considering how thin they were. As you can see, some of them "blew up" because they got too wet and spread, but that's okay. It's good to know that, with spraying, you can get really good detail. I will probably do this again in the future with freezer paper so I can iron it on

Anyway, it's in the wash now. I'll post pictures of the finished... Drawing? When it's done drying

Then later I'll add more when I've done the actual tailoring bit because the whole shirt is getting overhauled

[dreamerstreamer]

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Pairing: Ranboo & gn!reader (platonic)

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Ranboo’s memory may not be the best, but that doesn’t mean he’s not your best friend. Sometimes, you just wish he remembered to do to some things—like not get stuck in the rain.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: at last, some appreciation for my favourite enderman! let’s give this awkward, polite, tall child some love :) i tried a different writing approach to writing this, so please pardon the fact that there’s less dialogue in this one.

You let out a small gasp as your eyes scanned the page in front of you, your toes curling in your shoes as you swallowed. Your fingers curled a little tighter around the spine of the book. You could not believe that just happened—they couldn’t just throw your favourite character into prison like that!

Chewing on your bottom lip, you sank back against the bench seat, you huffed as you set your book down face-up on your lap. Whatever. He’ll probably just break out, anyways.

Leaning back slightly, you stretched your arms out above you with a soft groan, your bones cracking with a satisfying pop. Relaxing once more, you blinked at the space around you while a soft breeze caressed the side of your face. It was a beautiful day out, but Ghostbur had told you earlier that it was probably going to rain, soon.

“How can you tell?” you had asked him once.

He had shrugged at you, humming aloud with a thoughtful look. “The sky just seems a little sad, don’t you think?”

You had glanced up at the clear, boundless blue expanse lying above you, your lips curling into a small frown. “I dunno. Looks pretty happy to me.”

“That’s the thing,” Ghostbur had said, flashing you that soft, ghostly smile of his. “It may look happy, but there’s more than what meets the eye.”

While you supposed he had a point, you still didn’t quite understand how he could tell it was going to rain. It must be me his ghostly senses, you thought to yourself, swinging legs back and forth on the bench, your heels dragging along the slightly dewy grass. That, or maybe he’s officially lost it. You wrinkled your nose. Can ghosts even go crazy? Is that a thing?

You shook your head. Crazy or not, Ghostbur was never wrong when he said it was going to rain—you weren’t about to start doubting him, now.

Above you, the sky was still as clear as ever, the sun cresting high above you as its warm rays shone down on you. Just how long had you just spent reading? It felt like you hadn’t talked to anyone in ages, now.

Just then, something moved in the corner of your eye, and you turned your head, blinking.

A head of black and white hair bobbed along the distance, the figure slowly growing closer and closer until you could clearly make out the face attached to it. The moment you did, a wicked smile shot across your face, and you opened your mouth.

“Hey, Ranboob.”

Ranboo froze at the sound of your voice, raising his head only for a look of horror to pass through his eyes as realization sunk in. “Not you, too.” Exasperation tinged his voice as his eyebrows curved downward. “Have you been talking to Tommy, again?”

You simpered with a coy gleam in your eye, tracing a finger over the edge of a page. “Maybe.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, a long sigh fell from his lips. He strode up to you, stopping a few feet away to stare you down. “I came out here to have a good time,” he said lowly, “and I’m feeling very attacked, right now.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, your smile widening slightly. “Quoting stale memes now, are we?”

He lifted his chin at you, his expression firm. “Stale or not, it’s fitting for my current situation.”

You blinked at him, then shrugged. “Fair enough.” Picking up your bookmark from its spot on your lap, you swiftly slid it in between the pages of your book, letting the pages fall shut with a satisfying clap. “So,” you said, peering up at him, “what are you up to, right now?”

“Well, I kind of wanted to go exploring for a while. You know, see some new sights, get a break from—” He shivered. “—politics.”

A laugh bubbled out of your throat, and you caught the way his lips curled up at the sound. “A 2-in-1 deal then, huh? Sounds good to me.” You leaned back, your eyes pointing up at the sky above. “Ghostbur said it was going to rain, though.” Furrowing your brows, you shot him a worried look. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”

He jutted a thumb over his shoulder, rocking back and forth on his heels with a nod. “I’m heading home to grab my helmet, actually.” When you narrowed your eyes at him, he waved a hand at you. “Don’t worry—I’ll be safe, I swear.”

You cocked your head at him, a hopeful look flickering across your face. “But we’re still baking potatoes later, right? At four o’clock?”

He nodded, an earnest smile tugging at his lips. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You grinned at him, wide and giddy as you lifted one hand in a wave. With the other, you opened your book once more, tugging the bookmark out and placing it on the space beside you. “Awesome. Take care, now.”

Turning on his heel, he waved over his shoulder, sending you a reassuring grin. “Will do.”

Ranboo was a few yards away when your eyes widened, a sudden thought barreling into you. Slamming your book shut, you shot to your feet, whipping around with a hand cupped around your mouth. “And do not forget,” you shouted, your voice ringing across the air, “you hear me?”

Stopping in his tracks, Ranboo turned, a smile stretched across his face as he called back, “Loud and clear!”

With a relieved sigh, you lowered your arm, watching as he darted down the path toward his house. You sat down on the bench with a hum, casting your gaze down at your book only to freeze. Then, you let out a long groan.

You forgot to put your bookmark back.

Grumbling quietly to yourself, you pulled back the cover, scouring the pages with a glower as your bookmark stared back at you tauntingly.

At least you had something to look forward to this afternoon.

Ranboo strolled through his house with a soft hum, unlocking chests here and there to dig around and stuff things into his pockets. Food, check. Sword, check. Map, check. He blinked, tapping his foot. Am I missing anything?

He paused for a long moment, blinking down at the items lying in front of him before snapping his fingers, letting out a quick, “Aha!” Scrambling to his feet, he rushed to the other side of the room, leaning up against the wall to pluck the clock out of its frame. How could he not remember to bring a clock? After all, he had to be back in time to bake potatoes with you.

Slipping the clock into his pocket with a quiet hum, he turned back to the table where he had laid everything out. Clock, check. Is that everything? He squinted for a moment, staring at the open chest pressed up against the wall as the wheels in his head slowly turned.

A moment passed, then two.

He felt like he was forgetting something.

Didn’t you tell him something—reminded him of something? He wrinkled his brow, staring long and hard at the top of shoes. What could it possibly be? He was pretty sure it was something along the lines of... something, something... sky?

Ranboo lifted his head, his eyes trailing over to the window with confusion swimming through his eyes. Just outside, the sky was bright and vibrant, not a single cloud to be seen. There hadn’t been such a clear day in weeks, now.

You must have just said something about how nice the weather was, today—he was sure of it.

Moving quickly and surely, Ranboo slipped his belongings into his pockets, making sure to strap the sword to his back before stepping outside, a soft breeze immediately caressing the side of his face.  He took in a deep breath, feeling the cool summer air fill his lungs. With sunlight dancing on his cheeks, he felt his lips quirk up into a small smile.

It was time to explore.

Ranboo gazed up at the towering trees with a soft gasp, shielding his eyes from the dappled sunlight flitting across his face with his hand. People said he was abnormally tall, but when he was surrounded by trees as big as this, he just couldn’t believe that to be true.

Ducking under a low hanging branch, he let out a whistle as he stepped into a sudden clearing, a short stump lying in the center. The sunlight almost seemed to shine a spotlight atop the cut wood, and he found himself immediately walking up to it and sitting down. With one hand, he lifted his sword from his back and tossed it onto the ground. With the other, he pulled out a carrot from his pocket and took a bite, glancing around him with curious eyes.

He had never even known that there was a spruce forest in this area. Maybe he should go exploring more often instead of spending so much time thinking about countries and borders and allegiances and—

A shiver ran down his spine, and Ranboo shook his head. Now was not the time to think about all that.

For a few minutes, Ranboo simply sat and chewed, stretching out his legs. He watched as a pair of foxes darted between the trees, their orange, bushy tails swishing behind them as they ran off into the bushes. He smiled at the sight, finishing his carrot. He had to tell Fundy about them later.

All of a sudden, something wet dropped onto the bridge of his nose, and he let out a sharp yelp while leaning back. He slammed a hand over his face, not quite realizing how far he had leaned back before he was suddenly lying face first on the ground, crashing into the earth. Letting out a groan, he lifted his head, rubbing at his nose.

The skin burned where he touched it like a hot ache, and Ranboo scrunched his face. What in the world was that? Tilting his head back to look up, his breath hitched in his throat at the sight that met his eyes.

The once clear, blue sky was now overcast with dark, stormy clouds, their hazy appearance overshadowing their softness.

He squinted for a moment, desperation stirring in his veins. It wasn’t raining, was it? It couldn’t be. You would have told him if it was going to rai—

Ranboo froze, then let out a long sigh. “I,” he said aloud to himself, his low voice ringing out in the quiet forest, “am an idiot.”

You did tell him, didn’t you? That must have been what he had forgotten—that, and his helmet.

He paused again, furrowing his brow. Wait, no. There was something else too, something else he was forgetting.

With a huff, he pushed himself onto its feet, screwing his eyes shut as he pressed a hand to his temple and ran through the jumbled mess of memories in his head. He remembered walking down the prime path and seeing you on the bench... you had called him Ranboob, asked where he was going, and...

His eyes flew open, a low, sinking feeling settling in his gut.

Potatoes. He was supposed to bake potatoes with you at four.

Without even an inkling of hesitation, Ranboo shoved his hand into his pocket, frantically fishing around for a moment before pulling out his clock, his eyes widening.

It was four eleven.

You were so going to kill him.

All of a sudden, another wet droplet landed on the top of his head, and Ranboo let out a quiet shriek, feeling his scalp grow hot with the same, uncomfortably familiar burning sensation as earlier. Whipping around, Ranboo swept his eyes across the clearing. He wasn’t going to make it back in time now, at least not without possibly dying. For now, he had to find something—anything—to hide under.

Something burned against his backside, and Ranboo didn’t need to turn around to know what it was, far too busy turning this way and that. But no matter where he looked, all he could see were tall, looming spruce trees, there branches too spaced out separated to serve as even remotely sufficient shelter.

Just then, another raindrop splashed onto his shoulder. Then another fell on his arm. Then another dropped onto his foot.

With each passing second, the rain grew heavier and heavier, more and more droplets landing on him and leaving his body aching all over. Ranboo gritted his teeth, his chest heaving with wracking, wet breaths. Choking back a pained cry, his hand desperately clutched at the front of his now damp and soggy shirt.

He was so, so screwed.

You stared at the empty baking tray sitting on your kitchen counter, your eyes darting back and forth between it and the clock on your wall. After a few moments, you let out a groan, smacking your head against the counter.

It was four fifteen.

Ranboo was late.

Admittedly, it was only by fifteen minutes, but late was late.

You turned your head so that your cheek was smushed against the counter, the coolness seeping into your skin as you glared at the sack of potatoes sitting on the opposite side of the kitchen. Ranboo was a punctual guy—he was almost never late, and if he was, it was never by a landslide, or anything.

Lifting your head, you nodded to yourself, feeling yourself fill with resolve. Yes, that was it—he was surely going to show up soon! In the meantime, you could always just read some more of your book.

Abandoning your baking, you were soon curled up on your couch once more, your book clutched between your fingers as you drank in the rest of the story. You were right—your favourite character did break out of prison.

Although you were engrossed in your novel, you slowly found your eyes returning to the clock every few minutes, anxiety gnawing away at you. Everything’s fine, you reasoned with yourself, flipping to the next page with a nervous glance. Ranboo’ll turn up soon.

But soon enough, twenty minutes passed with no sign of Ranboo.

Then thirty.

Then forty.

By the time an hour had gone by, you found yourself staring out the window, your lips pursed and your eyebrows furrowed in worry. The rain ran down along the glass panes like tiny rivers, and you could hear it pattering against your roof. Beside you, your book lay abandoned facedown on the couch. Is he okay? you wondered, clenching your jaw. Did something happen?

You didn’t let yourself think about it for a moment longer, shutting your book and setting it onto the coffee table before getting to your feet, your eyes narrowed. If Ranboo wasn’t going to come to you, it looked like you were simply going to have to get him yourself.

It only took you a few moments to grab your jacket from its spot on the hanger and tug it on, your fingers deftly buttoning the front while you muttered to yourself. “He probably forgot we were hanging out, didn’t he?”

Rolling your eyes to yourself, you walked up to your front door, your hand reaching for the handle when you paused. A grimace stretched across your face, and your gaze shifted toward the coffee table.

You forgot your bookmark, again.

You stared at your closed book for a moment longer, then scoffed, twisting the door open. Who cared about some book when your best friend was missing? You had your priorities straight.

Flipping your hood over your head, you rushed down the path, splashing past puddles and damp grass as you raced toward Ranboo’s house, grumbling. Keeping you waiting for half an hour was one thing, but two? This called for some serious retribution.

When you arrived, you didn’t bother to knock before pushing the front door open, your mouth already open in a shout. “Ranboo?” you cried, your eyes taking in the room. “Are you there?”

There was a beat of silence, then you frowned. Now he’s ignoring me? Rude.

Slipping off your shoes, you stepped inside, ducking your head around as you searched for him. But it was only after a few moments that it was obvious that he wasn’t home, and you were alone. Blinking, you stared at the open chest near the wall and the empty frame attached to the space above the door.

Is he... still outside? you thought carefully. Your bit your lip, crossing your arms over your chest. There’s no way. I specifically told him that it was going to rain today. You paused, your frown deepening. Unless...

Stifling a sigh, you slowly turned until your eyes landing on the armour stand sitting in the corner of his room. Your jaw dropped.

He forgot his helmet.

You didn’t even have to think about it before you were ripping the helmet off the stand and diving for Ranboo’s open chest, immediately pulling out a handful of regeneration potions and stuffing them into your pockets. Maybe this was considered stealing, but in that moment, you couldn’t care less.

“He is so dumb,” you whined in a panicked tone, pulling your shoes back on and kicking down the door. “I cannot believe him.”

In a flash, you were sprinting down the hill that led outside L’Manburg, Ranboo’s helmet bouncing along at your side. He said he was going exploring, you remembered, panting to yourself as you tried not to slip on the wet ground, so he must be somewhere in the wilderness.

You were about to turn the corner when a figure came into sight from the side, blond locks bobbing along the side of your vision. At the sound of footsteps, Tommy lifted his head, sending you a bright grin as he waved. “Hey, [Y/N]!” His eyes fell down to your hand, and his eyebrows knit together. “Is that Ranboo’s helme—”

“No time to explain!” you shouted, barreling past him without even a second glance.

Tommy made a face as you passed, his cerulean eyes following after you. “Wait, what the f—”

But by then, you were already long gone, leaving Tommy behind to swim in a puddle of confusion and unanswered questions.

Ranboo huddled further against the tree trunk, his back digging into the bark as he wrapped his arms tighter around himself where he sat. Above him, the branches rustled, and a raindrop whizzed past his face, sliding down the side of his arm. Bristling, he let out a small whimper, his nails digging into his palms.

This was probably the most pathetic situation he’d ever been stuck in.

He could feel the back of his eyes sting with unshed tears, and he sucked in a shaky breath. He half-wanted to cry, but he knew he couldn’t let that happen. He could already imagine the way his cheeks would burn at the feeling of his tears flowing down his face. Crying would only make everything even worse than it already was.

To think that of all the days he could forget something you said, it just had to be today. God, just how bad of a friend was he to get stuck in the rain even after you told him to bring his helmet, let alone forget about hanging out with you?

He buried his face into his knees, squeezing his eyes shut with a ragged breath. He really was awful.

Suddenly, a distant voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Ranboo?”

He whipped his head up at the sound of his name, eyes wide as he scanned the clearing. “[Y/N]?” he shouted.

Just then, you burst through the bushes, stumbling forward. Before you could stop yourself, you found your shoe catching on the tree stump he had been sitting on earlier, and he winced as you toppled headfirst into the ground with a crash.

“A-Are you okay?” he asked, concern etched onto his features.

You quickly pulled yourself up from the ground, completely ignoring the mud staining your pants. “I should be the one asking you that,” you said in a blur, rushing over to him with a focused gaze.

Ranboo could only gape at you with a stunned look as you crouched down in front of him. “How—how did you even find me?” he sputtered, his head still reeling at the sight of you. “This forest is hundreds of blocks away.”

You deadpanned at him. “Lots, and lots, and lots of running.” You gestured to your dirty shoes, soaked with rain and mud all over. “My feet are kind of killing me, right now.”

He winced, his voice growing quiet. “I’m sorr—”

You raised a hand. “Ah, ah, ah. This comes first.” Pulling his helmet out from behind you, you immediately slammed it atop his head, easily making sure it was securely attached to his skull. “Also,” you added, burying a hand into your coat pocket, “drink this.”

Without missing a beat, you pulled out a potion of regeneration and shoved it toward him. As his hand clasped around the glass bottle, Ranboo opened his mouth, only to close it at the stern look you gave him. Swallowing, he removed the cork and lifted the potion to his lips, the sweet liquid pouring down his throat. In an instant, the burning of his skin subsided, and he felt his shoulders relax.

At his calm expression, your eyes finally softened, and you nearly sagged against him in relief. “Feeling any better?”

Capping the empty bottle, he let it drop to the damp grass as he nodded, but something sad flickered across his gaze. “Yeah, but...”

The words were flying out of your mouth in a flurry, and you already reaching for your pockets again. “Did you still need anything?” You pulled out another potion. “I, um, didn’t bring a lot of stuff with m—”

Ranboo shook his head, and you fell silent. “No, no, it’s not that, it’s just...” He paused, and sucked in a deep breath, his voice coming out fragile and cracked. “I’m really sorry, [Y/N].” He curled his legs closer to his chest, and he suddenly looked very, very small as his words came out in a mess of choked out syllables. “I forgot we were going to hang out and I just couldn’t remember and then it was raining which I also forgot you told me about and now you must hate m—”

Before he knew it, your arms were wrapped around him, your head pressed against his as you softly crooned. “Shh, Ranboo, stop. I’m here, okay? And I would never hate you for something like that.” You patted your hand against his sopping back, and felt him melt into your touch. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

He pulled away from you, his lips parted in surprise. “Really?”

You smiled, sincere and true. “Really.”

Just as a slow, shaky smile spread across his lips, you suddenly realized how quiet it was. Turning, you peeked up at the sky once more, your eyebrows raising at the sight of a clear, blue sky. The rain had finally stopped.

“Well,” you said, your smile widening, “would you look at that.” Then, you blinked, and frowned down at your dirty shoes. “Dang. That means I got all muddy for nothing.” You saw Ranboo wince again, but you merely shrugged, getting back onto your feet. “Oh, well. Enough of that. Let’s get going, instead.”

For a moment, Ranboo simply stared at you as you dusted off your front, a soft, affectionate warmth filling his chest. Then, he spoke. “Thank you for coming to get me,” he said so softly you almost missed it. “I really am sorry.”

You paused, then smiled at him again. “And I really do forgive you.” Stretching your hand out toward him, you tilted your head. “Now, stop thinking about it, okay? I promise I’m not mad.”

Ranboo hesitated for a second, then slipped his hand into yours, letting you tug him up onto his feet with a grateful grin. “Okay.”

Once he was upright once more, you clapped your hands together. “C’mon, let’s go back to my place. I’ve got some bandages you can use. Besides,” you said, shooting him a cheeky wink, “we still have some potatoes to bake.” You shivered, sticking your tongue out in disgust. “I also need to do some laundry.”

Laughter bubbled up his throat, lighthearted and pure as the two of you strode out of the forest, the sun shining down on you as you made your way home.

Ranboo might be forgetful, but he was sure he wouldn’t ever forget the important things—things like you.

[timelesslords]

prompts: could you write an in canon verse (so like gods and stuff are real) fic with amnesia? it could be post TLO or it could be one of them coming out of anesthesia and feeling wonky. i just love a good memory loss fic.

@halfbloodcarrie was instrumental in making this happen!!! Her adorable fluffy idea was completely paid dust in favor of making this angsty as hell but I blame her for me getting it done at all <3

read on AO3

Everything was dark. And everything hurt. His head especially was throbbing, but he couldn’t make out any other feeling. He could hear something; vague at first, just a ringing. But if he struggled, and he did, he could start to make out faint voices. His eyes refused to open, they wouldn’t even blink, but the noises were getting clearer by the second.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” a worried voice asked. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn’t even pry his eyes open, much less figure out who it belonged to.

“He’ll wake up,” a second voice said, male this time. He sounded confident, assured. At least he thought so.

“There was so much blood, I thought… gods.”

The first voice again, though this time it wavered. It sounded scared, terrified even.

“He’ll be alright, Annabeth. He’s got a thick skull.”

That made the first voice laugh, watery as it was.

“Don’t I know it.”

Some feeling was starting to return to his limbs, slowly but surely. He tried blinking again, but it felt sluggish, slow. Suddenly he realized he could feel his arms and fingers, and there was a hand in his, gripping it so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t felt it before.

“Percy?” the female voice asked, hopeful. He groaned. His head was pounding like nothing he’d ever felt before. Actually, he wasn’t sure if that was true, because he couldn’t remember his head pounding before, ever.

Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything at all.

He blinked again, this time managing to pry his eyelids open a fraction of a degree. The light streaming in hurt like a bitch, and he groaned again, closing his eyes.

“Percy,” the first voice said again, more frantically, “Can you hear me?”

She seemed to be talking to him, though he wasn’t quite sure. He couldn’t remember his name, but she’d said Percy twice, so that had to be it, didn’t it?

He tried to say something to the girl, but it came out as a strangled groan of pain.

“Will,” she said, a little desperately.

“He’s maxed out, Annabeth, I’m sorry,” the other voice said.

The girl (Annabeth?) muttered something under her breath in-- was that Greek? And how did he know that? More determined than ever, Percy blinked again, this time managing to crack his eyelids open and keep them that way.

His vision was blurry, but a few more blinks and the vague shapes in front of him started to sharpen into focus.

“Percy?” the girl said again. Percy squinted, trying to focus on her.

The first thing he noticed was that she was-- well, pretty didn’t quite describe it. She was seriously beautiful. Her eyes were a dark grey color, currently wide with concern, her hair framing her face in cascades of golden curls. Her nose was small and button shaped, dotted with freckles.

Even if Percy didn’t currently feel like a small blacksmith’s forge was hammering on the inside of his skull, he was pretty sure he would’ve been rendered pretty speechless.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. You were out for a while,” she said, smiling. She did look relieved, but Percy didn’t miss the genuine worry behind her eyes either, the little waver along her lips trying to maintain an upbeat expression.

“I… what’s going on?” Percy asked. Annabeth bit her lip, looking over her shoulder. Percy glanced upwards, properly seeing the other person in the room for the first time. He was a teenager, with shaggy blonde hair a shade or two lighter than the girl’s. He was wearing a white lab coat over what looked to be an orange t-shirt and jeans, which didn’t exactly instill Percy with a lot of confidence in whatever medical care he was receiving.

Of course, the fact that he had no memory didn’t help matters.

“You sort of got hit in the head,” Annabeth said, wincing as she did.

“Really hard,” the boy added.

Percy reached up tentatively, to the place where it felt like his skull was splitting inside out. Instead of skin he felt something else, some thick sort of fabric.

“Ow,” he said, a little unhelpfully. The girl smiled again-- crap, how was she even more beautiful when she smiled?-- but it still had an edge of sadness to it.

“Yeah. Discus accident,” she said.

“Discus accident?” Percy asked, confused.

“Yeah. Those stone frisbee things, remember?” the other guy said.

“No,” Percy said, pushing himself into a sitting position. It made his head throb, but he couldn’t stand lying down anymore. “I don’t-- I don’t remember anything.”

“You mean-- you mean you don’t remember the accident,” Annabeth said, a little forcefully. Her grey eyes flashed, and Percy didn’t quite recognize the expression, but something in his gut told him it was not good.

“No, I mean I don’t remember anything,” Percy repeated, figuring it was best to get it out of the way sooner or later, “I don’t know where I am or who you are or who I am.”

The girl took one very long look at him. He didn’t know what exactly he had said in particular that had triggered something in her, but the concern fell from her face in an instant. She dropped his hand, something sharp overtaking her expression.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” she said. Her voice was a little thick, but Percy couldn’t tell if she was crying, because in the next second she stood and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Inadvertently, Percy felt a twinge of something sad in his chest, though he couldn’t quite place why. He didn’t know Annabeth, but she clearly seemed to know him, and what he’d said had clearly set her off.

All of this was really not improving his headache, which had resumed its throbbing with reckless abandon.

“I didn’t mean to…” Percy trailed off. To what? Upset her? Make her run away? But all he’d done was tell the honest truth-- he couldn’t remember shit. The guy was giving him a look that was bordering on disgust.

“Dude, that’s really not funny,” he said. He sounded pissed, though if Percy wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a hint of fear behind his bright blue eyes.

“I’m not trying to be funny, I literally don’t know what’s going on,” Percy said, starting to feel a little frantic. Why was everyone here acting like they knew him? And why did he not even know him? He felt nerves and something else tugging in his gut, an insistent, terrifying pull--

Without warning, the glass next to his bed shattered, spraying water and glass everywhere. Percy flinched away from the table, whirling around to look at the boy. His eyes were wide and surprised.

“What the fuck was that?” Percy asked, alarmed.

“That was… you,” the boy said, staring at Percy like he had just grown a second head, “Styx, you’re not making this up, are you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know what’s going on for you to believe me?” Percy said, still staring wide-eyed at the place where the cup had shattered. For his own sanity, he decided to ignore the boy’s declaration that he had caused it.

“Four, apparently,” the boy said, rubbing his forehead like he could feel a headache coming on, “Unless you want to make it five for good measure?”

“I have absolutely no memory,” Percy repeated.

“Great. This is just-- this is awesome,” the boy said, sighing heavily.

“Yeah, I’m having so much fun over here,” Percy said dryly.

“Right, sorry,” the boy said, wincing, “Your name is Percy.”

So Percy had guessed that correctly. Good to know.

“My name is Will,” the boy continued, oblivious to Percy’s thoughts, “The girl was--”

“Annabeth,” Percy finished. Will perked up, hopeful, but Percy shook his head.

“I heard you say her name,” Percy explained. Will deflated.

“Oh, right,” he said. He sounded inordinately disappointed, way more disappointed than he’d been when Percy hadn’t remembered him.

“How exactly did this happen?” Percy asked, doing his best not to rub his forehead again. Will sighed.

“Some newbies were messing around with the discuses on the strawberry fields-- which is stupidly dangerous, by the way, we have an arena for a reason-- but it went a little off course and almost hit Annabeth in the face. You shoved her out of the way but it clipped your forehead pretty good.”

Percy tried to process all that, piece by piece. He didn’t know what a newbie was, and apparently wherever this place was had strawberry fields that he and Annabeth had been in together? But the strangest thing of all was that Percy didn’t feel at all surprised that he’d gotten injured trying to get Annabeth out of the way. That piece felt strangely right to him, even if everything else was messy and confusing.

“So me and Annabeth are friends, then?” he asked. Will gave him a strange look, his face paling slightly.

“You guys… you’re close. Really close.”

Percy nodded. That made sense. He didn’t know why Will was being weird about it, but he believed him regardless.

“She was mad at me,” Percy noted. At this, Will winced.

“Yeah. Memory loss… it's kind of a sore subject for her.”

“Why?” Percy asked. Maybe it was a little invasive, but this was all stuff he was supposed to know anyway, wasn’t it?

Will sighed, rubbing his face in his hands.

“Gods, I’m so not the person to be explaining this to you,” he said, “But a few years ago you sort of… disappeared. And you lost all your memories. Except you remembered her. But it was really, really tough on her, she had no idea if you were gonna know anything or not when she found you.”

Percy blinked, trying to take all that in. He had a feeling that was the hyper-condensed version of what had gone down, but it explained the situation well enough. Annabeth hadn’t considered the fact that he genuinely wouldn’t remember her, so she’d assumed it was a bad joke. Percy wished it was a bad joke, because he would give absolutely anything to remember more about her.

“Got it,” Percy said, trying not to frown, “So how did I get my memories back last time? Can we do that again?”

Will grimaced.

“I think last time you drank gorgon’s blood, but we’re fresh out of that.”

Percy stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. He looked serious, but Percy didn’t want to press it. Clearly last time had been a different sort of deal.

“So what do we do? I can’t go around like this forever.”

“Well, hopefully it's just temporary. Your head injury, plus the mortal pain meds we gave you, plus the nectar--”

“The what?” Percy asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, a little hurriedly. “The point is, your brain is processing a lot of stuff right now. My best guess is that it overloaded a bit, and the amnesia is a side effect. If that’s the case it should go away on its own eventually.”

“And if it’s not the case?” Percy asked, dreading the answer a little. As predicted, WIll grimaced again.

“It could be from the initial injury. In which case it would be… more permanent.”

Percy’s mouth went a little dry.

“Goodie.”

“It probably isn’t,” Will said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“So what do we do?” Percy asked again.

“You could try going to sleep. It might give your brain a chance to readjust, chill out a little. Or…”

Will trailed off, clearly unwilling to finish his thought.

“Or?” Percy prompted.

“Or we could try to jog your memory with stuff you might remember,” Will finished. Percy didn’t understand why this option seemed to be so unpleasant to Will, since it made the most sense to him. He felt disoriented as hell, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to calm his mind down enough to sleep anytime soon. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d been unconscious for a good long while.

“How long was I asleep just now?” Percy asked.

“A while,” Will admitted.

“So let’s try the other thing.”

Will swallowed heavily, his fingers gripping the sides of his white coat a little too tightly.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, still not sounding happy about it at all, “I’ll-- ugh. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Percy did not move, mostly because he didn’t think he could get up from his bed if he tried. Being alone gave him the chance to observe the room he was in a little bit. It was small but clean, sort of a cross between a normal bedroom and a hospital unit. The walls were made of old looking hardwood, and if he craned his head back a little bit he could almost see out the window. It looked green out there, but it was kind of hard to tell.

Nothing about this place felt familiar, but that didn’t mean much, given nothing Percy had experienced since waking up felt familiar.

Nothing except for those few flashes of feeling he’d gotten about Annabeth, anyway.

Will was gone for a long time, a lot longer than Percy had been expecting. He couldn’t tell time very well and he didn’t see a clock anywhere, but it felt like Will had to have been gone at least half an hour, maybe more. Just when Percy was about to give up and try taking a nap, the door opened again. Will was there, but this time Annabeth was in tow too.

Percy tried not to read too hard into the fact that she didn’t look happy to be there. If he wasn’t mistaken, her eyes were puffy and red from crying, though now they were narrowed in barely constrained anger, her arms folded over her chest.

Will, for his part, looked extremely nervous. That didn’t give Percy a lot of hope about how this was going to go.

“It would probably work better if you could get up and walk around, but well…” he trailed off, but Percy knew exactly why that wasn’t possible. Just keeping his eyes open had been a struggle, and he was pretty sure if he tried to stand right now he was gonna black out.

“Yeah, sounds like a bad idea,” he agreed. Annabeth said nothing, just kept staring with her jaw clenched tight.

“I figured-- you know, you remembered Annabeth last time,” Will said, still sounding nervous, “And you guys have known each other for years, so if anything is going to jog your memory… well.”

“Okay,” Percy said, easily.

Annabeth remained silent.

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Will said, looking like he absolutely couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He did a second later, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.

Annabeth looked extraordinarily unhappy to be there. Any care that she had displayed for him when he first woke up was apparently gone. She said nothing as she looked at him with nothing but ice in her eyes.

He didn’t know why exactly she was so pissed-- it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember anything, and wouldn’t it be worse for him anyway? But she didn’t seem keen on speaking to him anytime soon, and Percy figured it was up to him to break the ice.

“So, um. Are you single?” Percy asked. It was dumb, sure, but he didn’t remember shit, and this girl was pretty and she seemed to care about him and well? Might as well shoot his shot.

Annabeth muttered something under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like I’m going to kill you. Cool. Definitely did not make her hotter to him, not even a little bit.

“I’m not single,” she said, practically glaring at him.

“Got it. Sorry,” Percy said. For just a second her eyes ducked away, sadness replacing anger. But then she looked back up, and her previous expression was reinstated.

“Why don’t we just stick to you,” she said.

“Sure,” Percy said. He didn't want to make her mad again, because he had a feeling if that kept happening it would not end well for him. He wasn’t sure what could be worse than complete and total amnesia, but looking at Annabeth he was pretty sure she could think of something.

She took a deep breath, a little unsteadily.

“Your name is Percy,” she said, “I guess Will already told you that, though.”

Percy nodded. She moistened her lips, staring down at the ground.

“Okay. What else do you want to know?”

“Where are we?” Percy asked. It wasn’t his most urgent question, but it felt like a safer one to ask. Then again, from the look on Annabeth’s face, maybe that was a miscalculation. She was biting her lip, the anger in her expression softening slightly. It seemed to be replaced by something sad though, and Percy found he almost preferred the anger.

“It’s… a little hard to explain. But we’re at a camp. A summer camp. It’s-- it’s where we met.”

“Why are we here now?” Percy asked. Annabeth shrugged.

“We’re just visiting,” she said.

“Together?” Percy asked. She stared at him, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah. Together,” she said, though she was clearly unwilling to elaborate.

Okay then. Time for a new line of questioning. A safer line, one that hopefully wouldn’t put her on the verge of tears.

“What’s my favorite color?” he asked.

“Blue,” she said, instantly.

“Favorite food?”

“Anything blue,” she said, just as fast.

“I eat blue food?” Percy asked, confused. She smiled for the first time since he’d told her his memory was gone. It was small, but it still made his heart flutter.

“Yeah. It’s sort of an inside joke with you and your mom,” she said. The smile faded just as fast as it had come, but her answer had inadvertently given Percy more information than he’d expected.

“So I’m close to my mom?” Percy asked, unable to help it. Annabeth nodded again. She took a tentative step forward, sitting back down on the chair beside his bed.

“Who else?” he asked, without thinking. Annabeth frowned, a little confused.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean--” Percy started, realizing this might be a little too much too soon, but wanting to know so badly he couldn’t help but ask anyway, “I mean, who else am I close to?”

Annabeth didn’t answer for a long minute. She was looking down at the ground again, her hands gripping her own shoulders, arms shielding her chest. She seemed to be contemplating something, though what it was, Percy wasn’t sure.

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that question. Maybe it was too personal-- with a start Percy realized that Annabeth was probably a pretty high priority for him, given the scant details he knew about their relationship, and him not knowing that intrinsically had to hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “Just forget it, tell me something else.”

She finally looked back up at him, though she still seemed upset and unsure.

“No, it’s fine,” she said, though she was clearly forcing her voice not to waver, “Like I said, you’re close to your mom, her name is Sally. You have a sister named Estelle and a brother named Tyson. And your best friend is--” she stumbled, but found herself again, “His name is Grover.”

Percy noticed that Annabeth’s own name was conspicuously absent from that list. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, all things considered, but his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know this more than anything.

“What about you?” he asked, voice quiet.

It took her less time to answer than he expected, but she was still quiet for a minute.

“You asked me if I was single,” she said finally, eyes ducked down, a rosy blush growing in her cheeks, “And I said no because-- because we’re dating. We have been for a while.”

“Oh,” Percy said. He could feel his own face getting red, even though this was kind of great news-- or maybe not so great news, considering his stupid brain still couldn’t remember shit. But it still felt right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. Of course he was dating her. That was just correct, an inalienable fact he felt dumb for not knowing, despite not knowing anything at all.

“Yeah,” she said, “But you don’t remember, so… so I don’t know anymore, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, and he felt it. He felt like an idiot, both for trying to flirt with her earlier, and for not putting the pieces together sooner. The hand holding probably should have given it away, at the very least.

To his surprise, Annabeth gave him a small smile, even though her eyes were a little red. She wiped them on her sleeve, clearly trying not to do it in an obvious way.

“Sorry, it’s just-- that’s so you,” she said, sniffling a little.

“What’s so me?” Percy asked. He felt stupid, oblivious, but she just smiled again, a touch wider this time.

“Apologizing for something that isn’t even your fault.”

“I really am sorry,” Percy said, and he felt worse with every word, “I want to remember, I do, it’s just-- all of it’s gone.”

“I know,” she said. She sounded defeated. “I guess it would be too much to ask for you to remember me twice, huh?”

She said it like a joke, but Percy could feel the real pain behind her words. He felt an ache in his chest, like a phantom pain he couldn’t quite place, something in him mirroring her own hurt. He wanted so badly to comfort her, but he didn’t know how.

Or maybe he did. His brain was a jumbled mess, but he did know the only things that had made him feel anything since he’d woken up had to do with her.

“I… I almost get flashes,” he admitted, glancing up at her again. She wasn’t quite meeting his eye, looking somewhere over his shoulder, but he continued anyway. “When you say or do things… It’s like my body knows what to feel but my mind doesn’t know why.”

She glanced up, her eyes finally meeting his own. They were still shining with tears, though not as intensely as before.

“Like how?” she asked, simply. Percy swallowed heavily, not exactly sure what to say. It was hard to describe, given he’d barely recognized his own feelings.

“Like… like when you left, before. I was upset but I didn’t know why. I didn’t know you but I knew… I knew that was supposed to hurt, somehow. And when Will told me about how I got hurt in the first place, how I was trying to keep the frisbee thing from hitting you-- that felt right, but I don’t know why.”

She had graduated to crying in earnest now, tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Percy felt the inexplicable urge to reach out and brush them away, but he knew he couldn’t. And that hurt too for some reason, a hollow aching in his chest he couldn’t quite place even though the reason for it was standing right in front of him.

“And right now,” Percy continued, even though maybe he shouldn’t, “You’re upset and I just feel this urge to do something, and I can’t because I don’t know how.”

“Percy, please--” she said, still crying, her voice rough with tears. He didn’t know what she was begging for, but he couldn’t help his next words slipping out, like his tongue knew more what to do than his mind.

“I don’t know anything about me, but I know-- I know I love you. I can feel it. I’m not just saying it either, I swear I can feel it.”

“Percy,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper this time.

“You have to help me, Annabeth. I don’t know what to do,” he said, and this time it was his turn for his voice to get thick, a lump in his throat obscuring his words.

“I--” she started, swallowing heavily, eyes welling with tears again, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do,” Percy said, and he was sure she did, something in him just knew, “You always do, don’t you?”

That felt right too, even if he couldn’t place why, but it seemed to mean more to her than to him. She stared at him, eyes wide and scared. She was so close now, close enough that he could see every freckle on her nose.

Annabeth looked so panicked that for a second a second, Percy thought she was going to hit him, but then she did the opposite. She leaned over and kissed him.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and she tasted like strawberries and salt. His lips seemed to know exactly what to do, moving against hers like they’d kiss her a thousand times-- and maybe they had. His hand moved, almost of its own accord to her hair, tangling in it, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer--

And then it hit him. The scent of her shampoo, lemony and sharp and familiar.

He gasped, not meaning to, but she pulled back, grey eyes wide.

“Percy?” she asked, hopeful even as she tried to hide it.

“Annabeth,” he said, trying not to panic as things started to float through his mind-- more than things, memories. Her face and her voice and her words, the feeling of her hand in his and her smile against his lips, it all started to flood back like it had never left.

“Are you--” she asked, her hands on his shoulders, gripping tight, too tight, but he didn’t even care.

“Annabeth,” he breathed, saying her name like a revelation, because it was, “You’re Annabeth Chase, you’re my girlfriend and an architect and you’re scared to death of spiders and you still sleep with a teddy bear--”

She cut him off at that last point, throwing her arms around him and hugging him harder than she ever had-- except for maybe that time she’d thought he was dead for two weeks and he’d crashed his own funeral. Percy hugged her back just as hard, because he actually remembered that.

It hadn’t all come back-- things were blurry, most things, actually. But Annabeth at least felt clear in his mind, a shining beacon welcoming the rest of his memories back. He was already starting to get a headache again, but he didn’t care. They would come back. And even if they didn’t-- he had her. That was enough.

She pulled back from her bone crushing embrace, keeping their faces so close their noses were almost touching. She seemed scared that if she pulled away he might too, even though he had no intention of doing so, physically or mentally.

“So you’re back? Really?” she asked, sounding scared to know the answer.

“Sort of,” Percy confirmed, wincing as he did. He really was starting to get a pounding headache. “I remember you. And bits and pieces of other things, but mostly you.”

Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a long moment.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she whispered, her hands trailing up his neck, just barely scraping his hair.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he breathed. And he did know, now better than ever. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he’d woken up without his memory, but he knew every minute of it had to have been hell for her.

Annabeth sighed, pulling back further, so he could see her whole face. Her eyes were still red from crying, and her cheeks were still flushed from their kiss. But he could see the barest traces of humor in her expression, a slight tug at the corner of her mouth where a smile was being repressed.

“What?” he asked, but she just shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she said, but her smile had grown.

“Come on, I just had amnesia. You have to tell me.”

She laughed, a light tinkling sound. It was just on the edge of being hysterical, but she deserved it, after the day she’d been having.

“Fine. I was just thinking-- Hera couldn’t make you forget me but a glorified frisbee could?” Annabeth said.

“Hey, it was heavy!” Percy protested, but he couldn’t help but grin as he did. He would probably stay grinning for the rest of his life, actually.

“You’re such an idiot,” she breathed, pulling him into a hug again, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Percy said, hugging her back. And now he knew he did, in a permanent, tangible way.

There was still a lot missing, but he had the most important bits down. His name was Percy Jackson. He was twenty years old, and in college and a demigod, and lots of other things that would surely return with time.

And he loved Annabeth Chase more than anything in the world.