#ms word 2007

[dullahandyke]

I have a newfound hatred for Google docs.... WHERE ARE ALL YOUR FEATURES

[pottedfairies]

this is so stupid but bc i don’t wanna pay for rhe microsoft subscription or w/e ive been using googledocs and i MISS ms word i miss it intensely

[veworboxes]

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[nodelascl]

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[restinslices]

Everything pt4 (FINALE)

PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 6772

Summary: It’s been years since you’ve spoken with your father, but with Kronos’ armies marching and the final battle approaching, you have one question on your mind. If you survived this, would it be too late to mend what was broken? Unbeknownst to you, Ares is wondering the same thing. Warnings: Spoilers for The Last Olympian (not too big though), giving Hestia a power idk if she has for the plot, angst, OOC Ares but y’all know this already

You know what sucks more than daddy issues?

The world ending. 

Both are seriously draining but the world ending? It was a real bummer. Not only was it a bummer, but it was incredibly confusing. You expected to be actively in battle right now, not being made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich by Luke's mom. 

As shady as it sounded, you couldn't understand for the life of you how Hermes had fallen in love with her. She looked as if she had been electrocuted multiple times and the smile she wore reminded you of something you'd see in a horror movie. Looks aside, sandwiches and cookies were rotting in her house and it smelled like something had died. You couldn't see Hermes being here. 

“Ms. Castellan” you began as nicely as possible. “I'm not Luke. My friends aren't either. This is Percy, Nico and I'm Y/N. We're…” the people that want Luke dead. No. You couldn't say that. “We're friends of Luke. That's all”. She seemed to understand what you said, even if her eyes told a different story. 

“Friends… Friends? Friends with my precious boy…” you almost scoffed. “I'm so glad he has friends. I've always wanted to meet his friends”. She spoke like she was in a dream state and her eyes stayed on you, not blinking once. “You've come for a sleepover? I'd have to talk to your parents first. I need to know if you have allergies! Then your parents and I can also be friends and spend time together! I'm sure I'd like them”. 

You forced yourself to keep smiling at her, even if she unknowingly brought up something you were trying desperately not to think about. In 2007 you and your father Ares came to an agreement that it'd be best if you never saw each other again. The year was 2009 and you were still keeping up your side of the deal. You didn't burn offerings for him, you didn't go see him for that field trip, you haven't even uttered his name since then. When you heard about the gods fighting Typhon, you tried not to think about him getting hurt. 

You were the one that proposed the deal, yet you immediately regretted it. A part of you thought “good job! You're keeping your peace! Your relationship would've never gotten better anyway!”. The largest part of you kept thinking “but what if you were wrong? What if he changed?”. 

You shook your head. Curse your stupid loyalty. You could've turned Nico and Percy down, but Percy pleaded with you to come with him. The last time you become someone's adoptive older sibling… 

“Nah, you wouldn't like my dad Ms. Castellan. He's a real hardhead”. She chuckled, which looked insanely creepy because she still hadn't blinked. 

“Men tend to be. I'm sure he's still very lovely”. Yeah, if you enjoyed headaches. 

Nico took over the conversation and thankfully your familial issues were no longer a topic. Thankfully should be in quotations though, because the conversation quickly turned depressing. May Castellan spoke like she was floating and talked about her son and Hermes as if the last couple of years hadn't happened at all. In your heart, you knew that she either didn't know, or she forgot. You didn't know what happened to her and why she looked like she took a tumble in Wonderland and never escaped, but whatever happened caused her to never see reality the same. You pitied her. Poor woman. Forever making sandwiches for a boy that had grown into a man. An angel that snipped his own wings. 

Suddenly she stopped and screamed. You all jumped up and you pushed the two boys behind you. You doubted May Castellan would try to fight any of you, but you wouldn't take that chance. 

A glowing green filled her vision and she rasped “My child! Must protect him! Hermes! Help! Not my child! Not his fate! No!”. She grabbed at your shoulders and continued screaming about fates and you pushed her off. 

“Guys! Let's get out of here!” You yelled to the boys behind you. 

You were prepared to run out of there, but May collapsed and Percy ran to catch her before she could hit the floor. 

As quickly as she was screaming about fate and her eyes were glowing, it all stopped. She went back to her version of normal. 

“Normal” was a word that really sucked as a demigod because your version of normal would never be what you wanted. What you wished was normal for you was going to school, complaining about teachers, listening to music and playing video games. Your normal was fighting monsters, training, keeping the world from ending and nightmares. When other people's lives diverged from the norm, it was probably something small, like dyeing their hair a neon color. Your version of “well this doesn't always happen” was sitting across from Hestia and listening to her do that thing gods do, where they give you advice in riddles. 

The conversation was mainly on Percy, until it wasn’t anymore. Hestia looked over at you and you couldn’t help but feel small under her gaze (which was comical considering she looked like an 8 year old girl), like she was peering deep into your soul in search of something. 

In any other circumstance, you would’ve stayed silent. You didn’t have time for more mysteries right now, so you cleared your throat and said “my lady, is there something you want to say?”. 

“I just wonder…”

”Wonder? About what? Please, I wanna hear it” 

“I wonder whose side you’re on”. 

What?

Your brows furrowed. “The gods obviously”.

”Is it obvious though?”. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Making an enemy out of Hestia wasn’t on your to do list.

”My lady, may I speak bluntly?”. She nodded. You really wished she didn’t choose the form of a child so you wouldn’t feel so silly. “The world is ending and there’s still so much I haven’t done. I’m stressed out, wondering if I’ll survive the battle-” if your father would care if you didn’t, “-if our efforts will be enough, how many mortals will die, if the gods survive their battle with Typhon. Please don’t add ‘not understanding a riddle’ to my stress. Whatever you’re thinking, just say it”. You could feel Nico shooting you a ‘are you crazy?’ look. How else were you supposed to say it? You thought you were being extremely kind and respectful. The alternative was “English please”.

Hestia looked you over as she thought. “I’ve heard about your conversations with your father”. Yeah sure, let’s bring that up again. Perfect!

You shifted uneasily, not wanting to talk about this anymore. Hestia either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “I wonder why you didn’t side with Kronos”.

You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes this time. Did she truly think so little of you? “Why would I side with him?”.

”Many of the demigods on his side feel neglected. No doubt you do as well. I wonder what’s the difference between you and them” 

“Brains” you answered. “We all have parental issues. You don’t side with a guy like Kronos”

”You think little of those demigods? Think yourself above them?” 

“You know what I did when I was angry with Ares?” His name felt strange on your tongue. It’d been so long since you said his name. “I gave myself terrible bangs and wore all black. I stared outside car windows, listened to sad music and imagined myself in a music video. I wrote in a diary that said ‘do not touch or I’ll kill you!’, all in uppercase letters. I didn’t side with a crazy Titan that wants to destroy the world as we know it. Seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?”. She nodded.

“My lady I mean this with respect and love in my heart; what is the point of this conversation?”.

She poked at the fire a bit before answering. “This battle will be a hard one. Perhaps I am buying time and trying to memorize your face in case something goes wrong”. Gee, thanks for all the hope lady.

”If something goes wrong for me, I at least hope everyone else gets a happy ending”

”Your death does not frighten you?” She asked with a raised brow.

”Of course it does” you answered truthfully. “But I can’t let fear stop me from doing what I know is right. You’re the goddess of the home, so you should understand when I say I fight for my home. I don’t think home is just a place though. Home can be people. Percy, Annabeth, 

Grover, Nico…” you swallowed, “… my dad. They’re my home. I won’t let my home be hurt without a fight. I’m willing to fight, kill, and die for my home. That’s how much home means to me”.

She smiled. “Spoken like a true child of Ares”. You wish she’d just tell you why she was hassling you in simple words. “But homes can be hectic-“

”My relationship with Ares is hectic but it doesn’t matter”

”You have hope”

”Sounds more like a statement than a question” you mumbled.

You looked at the fire, not wanting to look at (what appeared to be) the child on your ass.

When looking at the flames, for whatever reason you thought of home.

Images flashed in your mind. Images of camp, of laughing campers, of you and Percy giving Sally multiple heart attacks.

Of you and Annabeth debating, you and Grover planting flowers, you and Clarisse training together.

Images of your life flashed quickly, yet it all made sense. You could see everything as if you were there again.

Then the images slowed.

You felt Ares arms as he caught you when you fell from multiple floors up in the mall.

You could smell burgers and fries in the diner and saw him sitting across from you.

You could hear the two of you arguing and your ears started to burn with rage when you suddenly felt his warm embrace. You leaned into him and sighed, feeling his beard against the top of your head. You probably looked ridiculous to everyone else in the diner, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt his warmth and you knew you never would again. 

“I love you dad” you said.

You couldn’t believe what you heard next. He said “I love you too” and he genuinely sounded like he meant it. At the time, you thought there was no possible way he could’ve been being genuine.

“He’s gotten good at lying” you thought. “That’s all. He doesn’t care. You’re making things up”.

But what if you were wrong? What if there was a chance?

”I have to have hope” you said out loud. You were too busy looking at memories in the fire and missed Hestia’s satisfied smile. 

Hope.

Home.

If you were still alive by the end of the war, you knew you’d have to break your end of the agreement.

You knew you had to go home.

***

Everyone knew war was coming.

The hope for everyone else was that Kronos would never get strong enough to challenge the gods. Hope wasn’t something you could depend on though. You had to actually work, and apparently the gods hadn't done enough. 

All the gods, besides one, was nervous. Of course Ares was more excited than nervous, like a child in a candy store. If he had the power to control time, he’d speed this whole thing up so he could be in battle already. The anticipation was killing him.

It was so grim and depressing in Olympus. Everyone was on edge and acting as if this would be their last time seeing each other. Complete and utter bullshit. They were the 12 Olympians for fucks sake! Anyone else there was there for a reason. They’d beat Kronos and his army, then drink to their victory and hug their children.

Hug their children? 

“Stop”, he thought. “Not that shit again”.

He didn’t wanna think about children.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance and made his way to a nearby fireplace.

”Ares” Hestia greeted without having to look at him.

“Hestia” he greeted back and sat down next to her on the ground. “Poking at the fire again?”

“What else is there to do?”

“You could be preparing for the battle”. She made a noise of disapproval, 

“You know I'm not one for fighting. I am where home is”. He couldn't say he understood it, but whatever kept her happy. Ares wasn't fond of all the gods, but he liked Hestia. She stayed to herself and overall was friendly with everyone. She didn't blab her mouth or make jokes about him and Aphrodite being caught by Hephaestus. She was a breath of fresh air honestly. 

Hestia looked over at him and cocked her head to the side. “No” he said before she could get anything out, “don't start asking me questions about feelings and try to dissect me”. Hestia was nice and all, but she always noticed when someone was off, and even if they weren't she'd find a way to make a conversation more deep than it needed to be. 

“Ares, the battle ahead will be a difficult one. There's a possibility that you could be destroyed or that your children-”

“Don't”. His voice came out harsh and he shot her a warning look. Unfortunately for him, Hestia was never intimidated by that. 

“They can die. Do you think they're keeping their feelings bottled? I doubt it. I hear them whisper their fears around the campfire at camp. They're terrified Ares.”

“How many are terrified?”

“All of them”. 

He wished he didn't ask. He should've stayed curious. 

Hestia was right. Any of his children could die. Maybe all of them. They all probably whispered to each other in their cabin, trying to comfort each other, and what was he doing? Sitting in Olympus. 

He hated that he cared. Ever since his last talk with a particular child, he had been trying to build those walls back up and go back to being his “normal” self. Unfortunately, those cracks seemed to remain and refused to go away. He tried to seal them, but even something as small as a talk with Hestia revealed those cracks again. “They'll be ok” he said although he knew the truth. The truth was that he had no idea what would happen. 

“I could deliver a message to them if you'd like”

“There's nothing I can think to say to them”

“Then perhaps you could say something to me. Whatever is on your mind, you can speak and I will listen”. 

Ares didn't wanna look at her so instead he looked at the fire in an attempt to ignore her. That proved to be an error when his nose filled with the familiar smell of rain and his ears filled his child's voice. 

“To me… to me you were everything. You are everything. “. Your tears mixed in with the rain and you wore a deep frown full of a child's repeated crushed dreams. His heart squeezed tightly for the first time in a while and he hated it. That's when it all started. 

Other memories flashed. Memories of him and the other Olympians fighting wars, sometimes with each other. 

He saw a time before strict rules and before he vowed to keep himself distant from his children. A time when he mourned them fully and intensely when their final breath passed their lips and their bodies became limp. 

He saw the time now and while it was full of distance and misery, he saw his other children. He saw them visiting him and talking about things he didn't care about but listened to anyway. Saw their sad faces and hung heads when they had to leave. 

It all went back to you though. 

“You want more from the child of Ares?!” You had puffed your chest when you said his name and held your sword tighter. “I have plenty to give!”. 

He heard your back and forth snarky comments to each other before the smell of food filled his nose and the conversation went from humorous to angry then sad. 

“I don't matter to you. Just admit it so we can move on”. You were so wrong but you said the words with such conviction. You genuinely thought you were right. Was that truly how neglectful he had become? All his children had become strangers and he couldn't blame anyone but himself. 

“Seeing you at all, it gives me hope” Was hope so bad to have though?

“You want this?”

“No” you said immediately. He remembers how he was surprised you had been that honest with him. He thought you'd make up a lie and pretend to be extremely confident, but your voice cracked and this time there was no rain to hide your tears. If earlier you wore a frown of repeated crushed dreams, that day your eyes filled with a child's final dream crushed. 

But then he felt the both of you hug and he couldn't help but think to himself “Does the dream have to be crushed? Does hope have to be lost?”. 

The fire continued to show him more memories of his children before it went back to you purposefully ignoring him. He had to admit that seeing you spend time with Hermes instead of him made his brows lower in frustration. But he agreed to a deal. 

“Ares?” Hestia questioned. Ares kept staring at the fire and hoped the images would return, but they slowly faded away. She said his name again. She had saw what he saw and felt the way his heart cried. It was a feeling she never wanted to experience again. 

He agreed to that deal… but what would happen to him if he broke it? Nothing that hasn't happened before. How could he see all of that and still want to keep his side of the deal?

“I think…” he whispered “I think I miss my children…”. 

His children. His family. His home. He had to believe that hope was possible. 

Hope.

Home.

He'd fight with his all while keeping everyone in the back of his mind. He knew he'd have to break his end of the deal. 

He knew he had to go home.

***

If someone were to ask how you felt in this exact moment, it'd be irritation. Because of some stupid disagreement between the Ares kids and the Apollo kids, Clarisse ordered that none of Ares' children were to attend the battle. When you reminded Clarisse that this battle was bigger than some stupid argument over a chariot and that campers have already died and more will, she simply puffed her chest and went on about how she's tired of Ares getting disrespected. Sure, ok. Maybe you got a point Clarisse. Couldn't this wait until after though?

You shared some harsh words, half of them being curse words, and joined the battle with everyone else. 

Manhattan as a whole was trapped in a deep sleep, yet somehow they seemed like the lucky ones. Sure, maybe a monster would step on them but at least they'd die in their sleep. If you died you'd be fully conscious and you knew it'd hurt. 

Only a fool feels no fear. A bigger fool lets fear paralyze them. You did your best to let your fear move you through your enemies and you cut and hacked at them, leaving a trail of dust in your wake. You tried at first to ignore how many old campers you were killing, but it was hard to when your sword was soaked and you stared in the eyes of people you used to call friends before you took their life. It didn't feel good but it was either you or them. None of them held their punches and those same kids came in camp and killed campers, so you wouldn't hold your punches either. 

A squeal filled your ears and you winced as you looked up. The fighting stopped and you understood why when you saw a huge flying pig heading straight towards everyone. You scoffed and wanted to make some sort of joke, but figured now wasn't the time. 

“As far as I know, no hero has ever beaten it” you heard Annabeth say when you got closer to her and Percy. Your heart beat in a skittish panic but you forced yourself to hold your sword firmly and say the words “we will” as serious and brave as you could muster. 

Percy had some idea and while you were told to keep the enemies back, your eyes landed on a white Pegasus and you knew you couldn't. 

“Hey Annabeth” you grabbed her arm, making sure not to grab too tight because of her previous wound. 

“Yeah?” she asked. Annabeth looked terrible. She was covered in dirt, dust, blood, and her hair was so out of place that you thought May Castellan would take kindly to her. You didn't know how you looked but you knew that all of you would need showers if you survived. 

“I love you too”

No. When you survived. 

“I'm gonna try and help Percy. Stay here. I'll come back. I promise”. Before she could ask you what you meant or remind you that you couldn't promise such a thing, you ran off to the Pegasus. 

“Hey buddy” you waved and forced a smile. You knew Percy could understand them and vice versa, but you couldn't understand them and you didn't know if that could understand you. “Me” you pointed at yourself, “friendly” you raised a thumbs up. You pet its head and it didn't bite you, so you assumed it understood. 

“Me” you pointed at yourself. “You” you pointed at the Pegasus. “Follow Percy and pig” you pointed at Percy and the pig, who were quickly vanishing from view. It nodded its head and after a sigh of relief, you got on its back. 

If it wasn't for the war and death, you'd say you were really enjoying this. How many people could say they had done something like this? Not many, that's for sure. 

“Hey Sharkboy!” You yelled when you were within shouting distance. Percy thankfully was no longer hanging by a rope, but was on Blackjack. You didn't know if Blackjack recognized you as the one always giving him donuts, but he made a pleased sound when he saw you. “Uh, is this a part of your plan?” You motioned to the statue that took his place attached to the rope. “It's a pretty shit one”. 

The boy rolled his eyes and huffed at you. Whether it was because of the nickname or insulting his plan, you didn't know. It made you smile either way. “I gotta get close to it! I can activate the statue to fight the pig!”. 

Flying pigs, fighting statues, just another day as a demigod. You rubbed in between your brows to stop the migraine that was forming. How hadn't you gone insane yet?

“It sounds crazy but-” Percy kept talking but you stopped listening. You looked behind you at the battle and like a fool, you froze. 

Manhattan was a war zone. This you knew. Seeing it up high like you were a god though made it all seem so much worse. You could see family being forced to fight each other. You could hear screams and pleads and crying. You could see kids trying to dodge being stepped on. You saw so many people not being allowed to mourn. You saw death. You saw it everywhere. 

Then your shock and fear turned to anger. These were your friends and family killing each other! Sure, they were still responsible for their actions, but there wouldn't be any actions for them to take if Kronos hadn't got in the way. He used these people and he didn't care how many died. He just wanted his throne. Annabeth could die. Grover could die. Percy could die. 

Your father could be destroyed. 

You didn't know how you looked, but you must've looked terrifying because Percy “talks back to everyone” Jackson looked at you the way you expected him to look at the gods; with edge. 

“Hey-”

You pet the animal under you neck and pointed at the pig “closer!” You ordered. It obeyed. It beat its wings harder and you passed Blackjack and Percy with ease. The closer you got, the more you could smell its stench. Under normal circumstances you'd pinch your nose and walk the opposite way, but this time you kept going straight towards it. 

The animal under you whined and you assumed that meant it was having a hard time keeping up. Your eyes fell to the rope and you knew what you had to do. 

Your sword morphed back into a necklace when you brought it close to you and after so much practice, clasping it wasn't a problem for you anymore. 

“Good boy or girl. I'll get you some snacks when this is all over. You like donuts?” it made a pleased sound and you pet its neck. 

You moved so that instead of straddling the animal, your legs were hanging over one side. 

“Don't let me die” you whispered to no one in particular then you pushed yourself off. 

A mixture of luck and skill prevented you from becoming a mark on the concrete. 

The rope burned your bare hands but you held on anyway. You managed to grab on above the statue and started climbing upwards, using the beating in your chest to motivate you not to fall and die. The white Pegasus stayed beside you as you forced yourself up the rope and you gripped the pig's fur to pull yourself all the way up. Now, pigs don't have tons of fur, but a giant pig had plenty enough to grab onto. 

The wind blew through your hair so harshly that you were surprised it didn't snatch it all off. The pig was flying at an intense speed with its only goal being to destroy everything you loved. 

You pulled your necklace off and it turned back into the double edged sword your father gifted you so many years ago. 

It was only now that you realized something. 

When you killed this thing, it'd disintegrate. You wouldn't. In the mall you were high up but you were only up a couple floors. Now you were definitely above the mall and many other buildings. The white Pegasus was no longer keeping up with you and when you looked behind you, Percy and Blackjack were still a while away. 

Percy connected the dots a lot faster than you did and you saw his lips move and Blackjack's wings flap faster. 

What do you say when you know you're gonna die? Damn. You didn't have time to prepare and you didn't have time for a speech. 

You felt like you were looking back at the flames. At home. At hope. You were supposed to return home after the battle and things would be okay again. But in the same breath, this is why you were fighting. You were fighting for your home and so the people you love could live as peacefully as they could. 

The sword felt heavier in your hand. You smiled to yourself. You still had a piece of home with you and you'd use it to better the lives of the other people you call home. 

You screamed as loud as you could in hopes Percy would hear you. “IF EVERYTHING GOES OKAY, TELL MY DAD THAT…” tell him what? You had so much to say. What could wrap everything you wanted to say together?

“... TELL HIM I MISS HIM! AND THAT I LOVE HIM!”. 

Blackjack's wings beat harder, yet he was still far. Percy wore a look of determination and you laughed. You couldn't believe he was still the young scared boy that arrived at camp when he was 12. 

“I LOVE YOU GUYS TOO!”. You smiled at him to leave him with something nice to remember. “THIS WAS FUN!”. 

You turned away from him and with as much strength as you could muster you plunged the sword through the pig’s skin. 

You felt its body crumble away and then you felt yourself slipping through the air. 

***

As one could assume, war was Ares' element and where he felt the most comfortable. There wasn't much to say about the battle. Sure, it was a battle for humanity but honestly? Ares wasn't that worried. Call it an inflated sense of self. Was it really that though when you could back up how high you thought of yourself?

As corny as it sounded, the war in his mind was much more intense. As he fought, his mind kept slipping back to what he saw in the flames. His family. His children. His home. His hope. The reason he fought. Sure he liked a good fight but he fought this giant monster with the other Olympians for his family. 

Ares is a proud man, so naturally he had faith that his children would survive the battle, but an ego could only get you so far. He knew the truth. He knew that any of his children could be crushed at any second, or squeezed to death, or stabbed, or eaten, or whatever Kronos and his army had planned. He knew that he could return to whatever was left of Olympus and he could mourn children that he had forced to become strangers. He wanted to be better. He had to be. He just needed time and that meant he needed his children alive. Especially the one that started this. 

Besides the diner, Ares had only held you once. He didn't think he'd remember it well yet somehow he could smell the cookies your mother had baked and he could remember exactly how the furniture was. He could see blinds covering the windows and the white walls lined with family photos and art pieces. He could see the black couch that sat across from the TV which sat on a table. 

And he could feel your mother place you in his arms. 

“This is your child” she had said. He looked over at her and she smiled down at you with a sense of joy and pride, which was much different to how he saw her look at you recently, with hate and contempt. 

You were so small then. Only months old, still exploring the world and having no idea how life would beat you down. You cooed as you looked up at him and shifted in his arms. He wondered if somehow you knew he was your father and that he was no threat to you. 

So small. So curious. So innocent. Now you were a warrior seasoned by the battles you had been fighting since you were a small child. 

He kept thinking about what would happen next the entire time. He knew he'd have to break his end of the agreement, but it was up to you and any of his other children to accept him turning a new page. It absolutely did NOT frighten him more than the Titan he was battling. Absolutely not. 

As Ares suspected, the Olympians and their children won the war. Kronos was gone and his armies were slaughtered. That was the best part. He didn't get the chance to have a good look at the battle, but seeing the damage the demigods caused made him proud. He hadn't seen you though, which was something he noted. 

The worst part was looking at Percy Jackson's face. Sure, he started the fight but that didn't matter! When Ares said “enemy for life” he meant it! The fact that he had to listen to Percy be praised and he couldn't beat on him right then and there made him tap his finger against the arm of his chair in discontent. 

“Lord Ares” Percy said and he could tell he hated saying the “Lord” part. It made him grin. 

“Boy?”

Percy's fist balled and Ares continued smirking. 

“I have a message from your child”. 

His smirk fell when he heard your name. A message? Did that mean… 

“They said that they missed you and loved you. They were… They…” he paused and Ares leaned forward. “They were in trouble and out of everything they could've said, they said that. They’re-” 

Ares didn't let him finish. He jumped out his chair and his feet thundered against the ground as he sped walked to the elevator. 

This couldn't be. That boy was wrong. His child was fine! He wanted to be better for them and now…?

No. No no no no! This couldn't be! He pressed the floor button repeatedly hoping that the elevator would move faster, even if he knew that's not how elevators worked. 

He lied to you once and said that gods didn't feel fear. How wrong he was. His whole body felt warm and if he wasn't pressing the button then he was tapping his fingers against his legs and if he wasn't doing that then he was pacing and if he wasn't doing that then he was imagining your limp body covered in blood. Was it at least quick?

“I love you dad”

No… 

Not his baby… 

After what felt like hours the elevator dinged and the doors opened. 

He stepped into the hall of the building. 

***

Turns out you should give Blackjack a lot more credit. 

You closed your eyes and hoped that the fall wouldn't hurt as much as you suspected it would and then suddenly your crotch hit something hard. 

“Fuck!” You exclaimed. Your eyes flew open and that's when you realized Blackjack actually managed to catch you. Percy let out a breath you suspected he was holding the whole time. 

“You don't ever do that again!” he scolded. Ironic coming from the guy who always did stupid things. 

“I hope I won't have to”. He rolled his eyes and looked back ahead of him. 

“I just knew you were gonna do something stupid. I just couldn't tell what it was at first. And don't you ever look at me like that again”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kill something”. Once again, ironic. Percy had that same look on his face more times than you could count, but instead of arguing you kept a hand on his shoulder and said “sure Sharkboy”. 

You tried to tune out the rest of the battle to keep yourself sane. One moment you and Percy joined everyone else, then Percy and Annabeth went to Olympus and now you were sitting in the Empire State building completely exhausted. You were slumped in a chair, covered in dirt and grime when the Stoll brothers came over. 

“Guess what we have” Connor said in a sing song voice and raised his brows.

“An Advil?”. The two laughed like what you said was funny. It wasn't funny to you. Your head was killing you. 

“Even better” Travis said. “Boom!”. You hadn't noticed the bag he had on him somehow, and when he opened it your eyes were filled with candy. You looked back up at their faces, both with an ear to ear smile. 

“I thought Percy said not to snatch anything when everyone was asleep”. 

“We didn't! How could you say something like that?” The two looked at each other with faux innocence but their devious smiles betrayed them. Whatever. You were too tired to scold them and it wasn't your business that got ransacked. 

“Listen, we'd typically charge for these but since you killed that pig, you can get something for free”

You raised a brow at them and looked at them disinterested. “Or I could report you and make you take all that back”

“You won't” Travis challenged. 

Little shit was right. 

You looked in the bag for what you wanted and chuckled when you saw it. 

When you and Ares talked in the rain that night, you debated on burning a fruit roll up as an offering. You decided that was a shit offering and didn't do it, but your father saw you in the rain and came over anyway. 

Now that same flavor of fruit roll up was sitting at the top of all of that candy. 

You took it and thanked the two. They were on their way after, probably about to scam some poor kid by overcharging it. They never tried that with you or any of the other older kids. 

You pocketed the candy and used your sword to help you stand. You were exhausted. Your shoulders sagged, your back ached and you smelled like everything unfortunate in the world. You needed a shower and new clothes desperately. 

You began walking then a ding filled your ears and out of curiosity you turned from the door and looked over. 

It was him. 

By the way his eyes softened you could tell he saw you. You were done lying to yourself and convincing yourself he didn't care. You knew you saw relief in his eyes. 

Maybe Ares should've listened to what else Percy was gonna say. Maybe he was gonna say “they're fine but you should really talk to them”. Something like that. 

Ares had seen you tear up multiple times. In sadness, in anger, in betrayal. This time though? You didn't look hurt. You looked relieved. You looked like how he felt. You looked like a huge pain had been lifted off your shoulders. If before you looked like a child whose dreams were crushed, now you looked like an adult who realized there was nothing crushed that couldn't be fixed. 

You had grown up more since he last saw you. He didn't wanna miss any more years. 

“And I hope the idea of me calling you Ares instead of dad terrifies you” 

The words rang in his ears. You were right. It terrified him. It paralyzed him. He had one question on his mind. 

What would you call him?

The two of you stood facing each other for seconds but it felt longer. Both your minds were racing. You were both thinking of the past, the fact that both of you were okay, and wondering what the future would be.

You felt like a kid again. You just stared at him with so many emotions coursing through you. The main ones being joy and relief. 

Without thinking, you threw your sword to the side and ran at him. “Daddy!” You shouted with the inner voice of a child who was finally getting everything they wanted. You jumped into his arms and he caught you. His grasp was firm and he kept you close. 

You both closed your eyes and focused on each other's warm embrace. You were both okay. You were both home. Neither of you held your tears and vulnerabilities from each other. 

“I heard you were missing me” he said. You knew it was a joke but you couldn't laugh. You nodded into his shoulder. 

“I did”. 

“I missed you too” he admitted. It felt so good to finally admit. 

It felt so good to finally hear. He missed you. He cared for you. He loved you. He was holding you. 

“I don't like our agreement anymore” you mumbled. “You gonna rearrange my fingers or-”

“No” he answered firmly. He set you down and his hands held your face. “No” he said again. 

“Not gonna turn me into an ant either?” You joked. He smiled at you and pulled you into another hug.

“I love you dad”

“I love you too”. 

Ares did something he hadn't done in a while and he kissed the top of your head like he saw other fathers do. It surprised him how much happiness it filled him with. You on the other hand thought this would only happen in dreams. You were so glad you were wrong. 

Then he did something else he hadn't done in a while. 

He apologized. 

“I'm sorry”

“I know” you answered simply.

“I'm gonna be better”. 

You smiled and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt in his embrace. 

“I believe you”. 

Hope. 

Home. 

You two managed to hold onto hope. What others would call delusional or stupid, you called a dream. You both managed to make that dream a reality. 

After years and years of complications, heartache and frustration, you two made it. 

You two made it home. 

If y’all sexualize the reader calling Ares “daddy” I swear I will rewrite this and have the reader die a terrible death. Do NOT-

Anyway y’all IT’S HERE! We finally made it to the end! Y’all feeling as proud and emotional as I do? Originally Everything wasn’t gonna be a series. I made pt1 and was like “yeah. A simple one shot” but people wanted more and it became a series. I got 2 abandoned series for different fandoms so it’s an accomplishment I finished this one. I don’t have any new series planned right now but I wanted to say thank you for the support Everything has gotten and the nice comments I’ve received. This was really fun. Until next time! (Also I told y’all they’d get a happy ending. I know some of y’all didn’t believe me)

Taglist: @kyuupidwrites @chadmeeksmartinswifey @lebguardians @beansficreblogs @itzjustj-1000 @white-wolf-buckaroo @elsisenta @leathesimp @marshymallo @stickyfictioninwriting @asexualaromosafezone @arialikestea @1mawh0re @samoanroyalty @wolfgirl294 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @ohlookitsasinglepoeceofpopcorn

[heywriters]

i have always used MS Word for writing, but my laptop wheezed and went into a coma last fall and took my MS 2007 with it.

i carefully switched some projects to Google Docs, but now it's promoting its "AI" software to me.

so i just downloaded LibreOffice and moved my GDocs over to that.

anyway, if anyone has bad news for me about LibreOffice, tell me now, please, thx

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 17, Unanswered - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Pocket embraces her inner Karen (just a little bit)

Word Count: 1.1k

Previously On...: Word on the street is that you and Steve are a Thing. You try to give Bucky a head's up that it's all bullshit, but he's not answering his phone. That can't be bad, right?! RIGHT??? 😬

A/N: Time for Pocket to set the record straight! (ALSO! Surprise, besties: Three updates tonight! - 445, 5, 515 EST)

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You’d never had an opportunity to meet Lisa Galvin, head of the PR firm that exclusively represented Stark Industries, but you figured that, if she could handle the public relations nightmare that was Tony Stark, you were obviously in good hands.

“Ms. (Y/L/N),” Lisa said, rising to shake your hand as you were shown into her office, “it’s so lovely to finally meet you. I’ve heard such good things.” Her firm’s suite was on one of the Tower’s mid floors, and was bright and spacious, but lacked any real sense of character or personal warmth. Given that Galvin & Associates represented all of Stark Industries, plus every Avenger, you kind of expected the space to be a bit more… colorful.

“‘Pocket’s fine,” you said, sitting down in the chair she offered you. “Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”

Lisa smiled. “My pleasure. Though, we wish you’d come to see us much sooner. In terms of a PR footprint, you’re practically a ghost! We could do so much for your public image, if you’d only let us, dear.”

You looked around, wondering who the ‘we’ was that she was referring to, as it was only the two of you in the room. “I actually prefer it that way,” you told her. “I highly value my privacy, and I took my job to create and innovate, not to become public property.”

Lisa pursed her lips, as though she could think of nothing more disdainful than wanting to remain out of the public eye. “Well, to each their own, I suppose,” she said, her voice betraying that she very much did not agree with you. “Now, what is it you wanted to meet about?”

“I’m sure that you’ve seen the articles by now,” you told her, something about her beginning to rub you the wrong way. “You wouldn’t be very good at your job if you hadn’t.”

“Ah, yes,” she replied, and if she heard the edge in your voice, she didn’t acknowledge it. “The ones about you and our very own Captain Rogers! Congratulations, I might add! Just delightful! What about them?”

“I want to issue a statement refuting them,” you said. 

Lisa looked at you as if you asked her if she wanted to go out and kill any and every puppy you could find. “But Pocket, my dear, why? You must understand that being romantically linked to one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire world– nay; throughout all of history can only increase your public approval ratings. Do you know how many of my clients would literally kill to have exposure like that?”

You widened your eyes. She was slightly scary, like a deranged Effie Trinket. “Well,” you began slowly, “first, there’s the fact that it’s not the truth. I am not now, nor have I ever been, romantically linked with Steve Rogers. And second, and most importantly, I’m deeply committed to someone else, and I don’t want him getting hurt by these lies.”

Lisa rolled her eyes at you. “My dear, in the court of public opinion, no one gives a damn about the truth. It’s all about optics. And given the public’s engagement with the articles that have been posted since the gala, the optics you and the Captain present together are divine.”

“Yeeeeaaaah,” you drew out, “I really don’t give a shit about optics. I’d just like the record to reflect the facts.” You leaned forward, putting your elbows on Lisa’s desk as you looked her in the eye. “And if you’re not going to do that for me, I’ll speak to Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark about finding a new firm for the company that can.”

You smiled your “did you forget exactly what my position was in this company?” smile; not one that you used very often, as it tended to give you the ick, but you felt it was more than appropriate, given the circumstances. It wasn’t uncommon for people to underestimate or dismiss you, or think they could intimidate you or bend you to their will due to your small stature or your relatively young age, or just because you were a woman. It didn’t hurt to give them an occasional reminder.

Lisa looked properly concerned. “Well, I – there’s no need for that!” she spluttered. “I see no reason Mr. Stark needs to be involved. It’s a simple matter of having you write out a statement, after all. From there, my associates will send it along the AP wire, and to the outlets that wrote the articles, asking for a retraction, or at the very least, that they publish your response.” She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a legal pad. Handing it to you, along with a pen, she said “Just write the basic sentiment you wish to get across, and my team will tweak it into something befitting a proper press release.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’d prefer to have my statement in my own words, thanks,” you said, before bowing your head and beginning to write:

While Ms. (Y/L/N) greatly values her friendship with Captain Rogers and admires all he has done for his country, she would like to clarify that they are not now, nor have they ever been, involved in a romantic relationship of any kind. Ms. (Y/L/N) is involved in a committed, long-term relationship with another party and kindly requests that her privacy in this arena be respected, and she be left to continue living her life as a private citizen.

“There,” you said, handing her the sheet of paper. “That should do it.”

Lisa looked it over and nodded her approval. “It will do,” she said. “It’ll go out straight away; I’ll do it myself.” You nodded and, thanking her for her time, stood and turned to leave. “Oh, Pocket, dear,” she called to you. You turned, wondering what more she needed from you. “Just for the sake of curiosity, when you wrote you were already in a long-term relationship, who were you referring to? Is it someone in the Tower? I only ask because it may become a relevant issue at some point in the future.” “James Barnes,” you told her proudly. You loved him, and you honestly didn’t care who knew it.

Lisa clutched her chest as if you were attempting to steal her pearls. “The Winter Soldier?! Oh, my dear– you better pray that little nugget never gets out, because if it does, you’ll be running back here in tears, begging me to fix your ruined public image.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[stari-hun]

On THAT NOTE it was so interesting in the half anniversary event how there’s so many parallels between Jiu Niangzi and Getian despite being extremely different characters

Jiu is young and new to the world she was basically out there without any guidance before Ms. Xu then after she was even more alone. She was pretty old all things considered she was already past toddler age when she had to be taught how to be a person and the only instruction she was given by the one person who knew what she was and the circumstances behind birth was to help others and it’ll tell her why her mother had her.

Then Getian is considerably old as a Miemeng but he grew up under the care of the other people of his tribe after they migrated to the mountains around Pei City. He was cared for growing up and sheltered but he held a lot of apathy and disinterest in other people like his kin. One of the scenes when he’s reminiscing is with him talking with one of if not the only person left on the mountain saying he may be the only one left to gather all their kin. Getian fundamentally just didn’t want or care about giving people advice or helping others like how Jiu did. After all of his kin were gone he had learnt all of the skills they kept with them and brought with them through life and past death.

Jiu’s storyline is struggling between being a human and a Xiangrui because with Ms. Xu she found the reasons behind her mother leaving her realm to be with humans without realizing it. Even her notable items include tokens from other people of Pei City. She values items and artifacts from the people around her and worldly things and even after the story when she’s with the Timekeeper her lines talk about how she doesn’t realize when she became a human she also became the Xiangrui she sought to be.

Also side note on that it’s SO fun that she gets along with Jessica cause she’s a horse and Jessica is a fawn. Jiu also had a similar childhood to her where she had to be taught by others on how to be with others. But it’s a really fun dynamic between them with how they both sought to be someone or something they didn’t realize they already were. Jiu has always been a Xiangrui and Jessica has always been someone interesting and fun to be around.

The thing I love about them both is that though they’re pretty humanoid all of their actions and words reveal that they’re far from it. Sure there’s a ton of kinds of people besides arcanists, like Ezra’s our first human, Spathodea is a reincarnator, we have awakeneds ands spirits, even a dog. But Getian and Jiu really radiate an otherworldly vibe to them from a mix of the culture shown in R99’s Eastern Regions and their upbringing being very detached from others with Getian being physically away from others and Jiu always having it in the back of her mind that she CANT be human but it really mixes together to make a very interesting and different vibe to them. Good brain soup

In UTTU during both of their interviews they each have different insights on it and how they express it but like a lot of people in Pei City they simply don’t see arcanists and humans as any different from each other. They’re both people with different skill sets but nonetheless we all breathe the same air. It was such a fun event cause it really showed something new we haven’t gotten much of at all in the game so far and that’s Reverse 1999’s OWN culture. They show so many cultures so well around the world and so wonderfully but the only events I can really think of that dive into how their world works is Jessica’s [The Old One Flew Over The House] for how arcanists get registered in perpetual 1999 or 2007, Notes from Shuori, and the Uluru Games with how sports culture works.

[loudsnapdragon]

On The Sleeve of How It Used To Be

7/7 Chapters. 55,000 words. Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham. Rated Mature. teen pregnancy, inspired by Juno (2007), background steddie, coming of age, childhood friends, no monsters AU. Ao3 loudsnapdragon.

Not-so-secret smalltown lesbian Robin Buckley makes a last ditch attempt at heterosexuality by scoring a one night stand with her old bandmate Eddie, but while the sex does successfully confirm the annoying complete disinterest in men she harbors, it kickstarts another clusterfuck for her to deal with. She’s pregnant. And despite her better judgement, she’s keeping the baby. Luckily, she finds a recently wedded Ms. Kelley and Mr Clarke looking to adopt. But to save herself from some of the mortification, of ya’know; blowing up like a hormonal balloon throughout her Junior year, she decides to not tell anyone who the daddy is. Not the daddy himself, not her parents, not even her favorite dingus. But as is the luck of your regular outcast pregnant sixteen-year-old, someone finds out. And like many secrets, Chrissy Cunningham doesn't make it easy to keep.

Excerpt under the cut.

If they were normal, then the sex would have been really sweet. Eddie would say something like, ‘I’ve wanted this for ages.’ And Robin would say ‘I know.’ And then he would say something goofy and cute like, ‘Wizard.’

But unfortunately for them, the second after she settled on his lap, her knees brushing against the faded leather of the Munson trailer’s shabby couch, she realised three things.

One: There is a limit to Eddie’s goofy cuteness. He is charming, but not charming enough to pull off a stupid catchphrase like ‘Wizard.’ And the first thing he said after he entered Robin wasn’t ‘I’ve wanted this for ages’, it was: ‘Is it meant to make that noise?’

Two: The goofy-cute limit is reached far quicker when Eddie is naked, his worryingly too pink erection pressing into her thigh.

Three: This probably isn’t Eddie’s fault. Because Robin understood, suddenly, but sadly too slowly as to stop the trajectory of her first brave adventure into sex, she’s definitely gay. Super gay. The dykiest dyke to ever dyke. This ain't a switch she can unflip like Chrissy did. 

She goes through with it. Because there’s a pesky hope that she could make this work. That she might be gay, but maybe Eddie’s long hair and big lips and dangly earrings could trick her gay ass mind. She finishes the ordeal thanks to a sachet of lube and a traitorous condom he theatrically whipped out his wallet prior. She’s never been a great actress, but she thinks, maybe this time, she’ll convince them all.

Eddie kisses her forehead after he finishes. Keeps on asking if she’s alright, so she knows she didn’t put on a good enough show.

Six weeks later, stone sky ripping into the clouds, the distant haze of woodsmoke trailing the horizon, the suburban roofs shining like jewels in the cold sun, she buys a bottle of Sunny Delight from Melvald’s and walks a loop-de-loop back to Main Street. She’s loath to admit it, but sometimes Hawkins really is beautiful.

‘Well, if it isn’t Birdie, the future mother to be, back again at the nest.’

She throws the third pregnancy test into the trash by the store’s entrance.

‘Jesus Murray, try some sympathy. How did you even get a job here.’

‘Joyce is sweet on me.’ Murray shrugs from behind the counter of Melvald's, holding the bathroom key back like a prize, waiting for her to pay for the fresh pregnancy test she tossed by the register. ‘This is your fourth test today, not like your latest orange delight is going to switch the pee-pee situation.’

‘God, silence old man. Just give me the key.’

‘Pay for the pregnancy test when you’re done. Don’t think it’s yours just because you marked it with your urine!’

She snatches the key and hides away in the store’s toilet, twisting her wrist under her crotch and peeing on the stick with a creeping familiar ease. She walks out to the store, slapping the test against her palm as she waits, trying to shake out the most likely result, considering her lack of period and extremely sensitive nipples, if what Brenda says is true. 

‘That ain’t no etch-a-sketch that can be undid, dearie.’

She throws Murray the finger, but sure enough, a minute later, that evil pink plus sign appears for the fourth time, cementing her impending doom.

So she does what she normally does when faced with impending doom. She buys a pack of Red Vines, ignores Murray, and cycles over to Steve’s place.

‘Are you going to go Sunnyvale or Women Now? Cos’ I remember Carol saying you need a note from your parents if you go to Sunnyvale.’

Steve’s parents are never home, so they’re spread out over the couches talking aloud about her impending doom, because the Harringtons are the type of rich to have three couches, all of them ugly.

‘I’ll think I’ll go to Women Now, cos’ ya’ know, they help women now.’

‘Yeah, I get ya.’ Steve says, sitting feet up on his couch. ‘How did you even generate enough pee for four pregnancy tests? That’s amazing.’

‘I drank ten tonnes of Sunny D.’

‘Jesus Birdie, that’s so much sugar. Your teeth are going to fall out.’

‘Doesn’t really matter if my teeth fall out if I’m dead first.’

‘Hey.’ Steve swings his leg down, throws a pillow over the coffee table and on to her couch, smiling when it hits her square on the forehead.

‘Ow.’

‘You’re not going to die. No one is going to find out. We’ll get it sorted, okay? Just tell me the time for the appointment and I’ll pick you up after.’

He looks so stupid. His floppy hair flat on his forehead, that Weird Al shirt he only wears to make Dustin happy, and those ugly basketball shorts that are two sizes too small, cos' like a freak of nature, he’s only gained thigh muscle since quitting the team. She wants to grab him by the apples of his cheeks and smush him a like a golden retriever.

‘You look stupid.’

He smiles. ‘Right back at ya.’

‘I’m going to abort the hell out of this baby.’

‘Fuck yeah, you are.’

[missr3n3]

Augusnippets Day 19

collared/branded/chipped

Cut Down the Altar (not canon) TW: dehumanization, medical whump, non-human whumpee word count: 332 @augusnippets

[January 2010]

“Devil's preferred name?”

“Joshua Atkin. No middle name.”

“Date of original's birth?”

“April 4, 1988.”

“One of the younger ones, then. Date of replacement?”

“Yes, estimates will do. Um… September, 1991.”

“Birth place?”

“Nox, Iowa.”

“The town?”

“Correct.”

“Gender?”

“I’m not checking. Just tell me. Male.”

“Measurements?”

“6’3 tall. Weight is 138 pounds.”

“Hm, a little underweight… Any living relatives?”

“He… he says he isn't sure. Ah… He comes from a big family. ‘Fundie types,’ he says.”

“Emergency contacts?”

“Ms. Jessie- We're gonna need a full name. Middle name too, if she has one. Ms. Jessica Yolanda Simmons. Is she-? Okay, sorry. He doesn't want to describe their relation.”

“Fair enough. There's no need to agitate i- ah, him. Any prior medical history?”

“Is there any point in asking? I thought they regenerate.”

“Yes, but sometimes we have them on record for particularly severe injuries.”

“Okay… Um, he says he spent a week in the hospital summer 2007. What hap- Okay! Okay, he, um, doesn't want to say why.”

“That's fine. Usually, these questions are to work out possible allergies, which is not something I’ve heard of any Cael having problems with. That's the last of the questions. Seems like he's plenty healthy for the procedure.”

“Calm down, it won't hurt that much. This is just something we have to do for all Cael devils participating in the Cael Assimilation Trial. Why? If I were to guess, probably census data, tracking movement patterns, things like that. Now, tilt your head forward. What? Yes, this is a scalpel. Don't worry; if my experience with other Cael is anything to go by, you'll be healed by the time you're out the door. Yes, the chip is supposed to go under the skin. So you don't take it off obviously. Hold still please, this won't take any time at- OW!”

“Everything okay in there?”

“Damn thing bit me! You know, if you'd cooperate, we could've been done several minutes ago. Now hold still.”

[dullahandyke]

Ok the lesbianism has passed im gonna go work on the essay. Motivating myself by going ham with the highlighter tool in ms word

[ms-m-astrologer]

Welcome to the Shadow of the Eclipse

October 4-31, 2023

Some introductory notes

The “shadow of the eclipse” is a time period lasting from 10 days before the first eclipse, to three days after the final eclipse. It is recommended not to start anything new, or schedule anything important, during these days - as usual I refer everyone to the 1981 wedding of Lady Diana Spencer to the Prince of Wales, as an example.

Of course we live in a place/time which scoffs at letting astrology help with the timing of events - therefore don’t lose hope if something falls unavoidably within the eclipse shadow. Just be prepared.

I wanted to take a more thorough approach to delineation, this time. I hope it’s helpful.

South Node Solar Eclipse

A solar eclipse happens when the New Moon lies close (in the Zodiac) to either the North Lunar Node, or to the South one. It occurred to me to do a little research on whether which Node is involved, makes any difference - and yes, it does.

Astrologers call the South Node “the dragon’s tail” - Steven Forrest calls the South Node, “the dragon’s butt” - because here we are “pooping out” what we don’t need and can’t use. (One person’s poop, however, is another person’s fertilizer.)

Eclipses conjunct the South Lunar Node, like the October 14 one, have an outflowing (outpooping?) of energy. They tend to feature external events which we have to “rise up to.”

If you’d like to note how these have affected you in the past (always a good idea to check “what happened last time”), here is a list of the previous South Node solar eclipses in this century:

December 14, 2001, 22°56’ Sagittarius

December 4, 2002, 11°58’ Sagittarius

November 23, 2003, 1°14’ Sagittarius

October 14, 2004, 21°06’ Libra

October 3, 2005, 10°19’ Libra

September 22, 2006, 29°20’ Virgo

September 11, 2007, 18°25’ Virgo

August 1, 2008, 9°32’ Leo

July 22, 2009, 29°27’ Cancer

July 11, 2010, 19°24’ Cancer

June 1, 2011, 11°02’ Gemini

July 1, 2011, 9°12’ Cancer

May 20, 2012, 0°21’ Gemini

May 10, 2013, 19°31’ Taurus

April 29, 2014, 8°52’ Taurus

March 20, 2015, 29°27’ Pisces

March 9, 2016, 18°56’ Pisces

February 26, 2017, 8°12’ Pisces

February 15, 2018, 27°08’ Aquarius

January 6, 2019, 15°25’ Capricorn

December 26, 2019, 4°07’ Capricorn

December 14, 2020, 23°08’ Sagittarius

December 4, 2021, 12°22’ Sagittarius

October 25, 2022, 2°00’ Scorpio

October 14, 2023, 21°08’ Libra

Going down that list was a very uncomfortable trip down memory lane for me. When those South Node eclipses affected me, it was generally a harbinger of some difficult “external event” which I had little to no control over - which is not the same thing as saying “it wasn’t my fault.” I brought some of it on myself due to bad decisions. Some karma chickens coming home to roost, in other words. Not all of them were dire, though. One in particular gave me something of a respite from what had been happening in my life - it was conjunct my natal 12th House cusp.

Saros Series “7 South”

This eclipse is part of Saros Series “7 South.” Bernadette Brady writes,

The individual experiencing this series will find that huge obstacles will suddenly and easily clear or, on the negative side, a pending potential crisis will suddenly manifest and move through his or her life very rapidly. Either way the individual will feel that everything is moving at great speed. (The Eagle and the Lark)

Previous Saros “7 South” eclipses in Ms M’s lifetime:

September 11, 1969, 18°53’ Virgo

September 23, 1987, 29°34’ Virgo

October 3, 2005, 10°19’ Libra

Not quite as depressing for me personally.

Whatever Shall We Do?

1) Determine which of your natal houses this eclipse falls in.

2) Determine whether the eclipse makes an aspect to anything in your chart. Use a 1° orb. In my case, the conjunctions, squares, sesquiquads (135°), inconjuncts, and oppositions made the most obvious impacts.

3) If there is a close aspect to a planet, check to see which house(s) that planet rules. One South Node eclipse was conjunct the ruler of my natal 4th House, and I moved three months later.

4) Avoid strenuously negative thoughts. If you put a lot of energy into anticipating that something is going to be horrible and painful and disastrous, well, guess what - that’s exactly what’s going to happen. If you catch yourself falling into a panic, try to refocus the energy into “the best possible outcome.”

[kimberly40]

Popcorn Sutton- A scrawny, long-bearded mountain man with a foul mouth and a passing acquaintance with copper tubing and kettles, Marvin "Popcorn" Sutton seemed the embodiment of moonshiners of yore. Popcorn was a legend, the ultimate Bootlegger and maker of Moonshine likker. He was born Marvin Sutton; folks knew him as Popcorn. The story is that Marvin was in a bar and became agitated with a popcorn vending machine. He attacked the machine with a pool cue. I don’t know who won that fight, but thereafter he was no longer Marvin, he was Popcorn. Brought up in rural Cocke County, Tenn., identified as one of four "moonshine capitals of the world" in the corn-whiskey history "Mountain Spirits," Mr. Sutton learned the family trade from his father.

The practice goes back to the Scots-Irish, who brought it to the New World, and it wasn't illegal until after the Civil War, says Dan Pierce, chairman of the history department at the University of North Carolina at Asheville. "This is something that legitimately is an expression of the culture of this region," Mr. Pierce says. Like his forebears, Mr. Sutton had brushes with the law, and was first convicted of selling untaxed liquor in the early 1970s. He mostly kept out of trouble after that, though friends say his nickname came from an unfortunate encounter with a balky barroom popcorn machine. But he was well known as a distiller around his native Parrottsville.

He was a familiar figure at the Misty Mountain Ranch Bed & Breakfast in nearby Maggie Valley, N.C., wearing faded overalls and with a back stooped, he said, from decades of humping bags of sugar into the hills. He picked the banjo and serenaded guests on the inn's porch. He helped decorate the $155-a-night Moonshiner suite at the inn with some still hardware. Mr. Sutton put a modern spin on his vocation, appearing in documentaries and even penning an autobiography, "Me and My Likker." Souvenir shops in Maggie Valley sold his video, "The Last Run of Likker I'll Ever Make," and even clocks with his image on them. Other moonshiners have gone legit and cashed in; a former Nascar driver and moonshiner now offers Junior Johnson's Midnight Moon in Southern liquor stores. But Mr. Sutton insisted on earning a living the old-fashioned way, and in 2007, agents from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives busted him with 850 gallons of moonshine, stored in an old school bus on his property. He was convicted in 2008 and was due to report to prison Friday and he was going to have to spend time in prison. For a mountain man, death was a better alternative. On March, 2009, Popcorn ended his life, rather than go to a federal prison. Instead, facing the verdict and ill health, he was found dead by Ms. Sutton at the age of 62 on Monday, and authorities suspect carbon-monoxide poisoning.

Going out like he lived, his epitaph read: “Marvin Popcorn Sutton / Ex-Moonshiner / October 5, 1946 / March 16, 2009 Popcorn Said f***k you.” I bleeped the last word! Ms. Sutton discovered her husband in his green Ford Fairlane. "He called it his three-jug car," she told the AP, "because he gave three jugs of liquor for it."

[mannazandwyrd]

I found something interesting night before last:

What is Aceilon, the possible lost name of Loki, doing in a 14th century Middle Welsh manuscript of a 6th-ish century praise poem? What’s my dang pendulum-dowsing UPG that I attempted linguistic analysis of doing in actual ink on vellum?

To figure that out I needed to dig a tiny bit. This is Yspeil Taliesin, leaves 62-63 or poem XXXVII in Llyfr Taliesin, which you can view digitally at the National Library of Wales’ website (link below). It’s one of several praise poems to Urien of Rheged, part of the earliest group of works in the collection, based on historical and linguistic evidence - scholars seem to think they were composed in Old Welsh or Common Brittonic and transmitted orally for awhile before scribes began copying and recopying it, with updates to language and accumulated transcription errors prior to the version that survived. It may have been composed by a historical poet Taliesin (who was later mythologized) or by a court bard using Taliesin as a persona. Lewis and Williams (2019) call this poem “a difficult text”, and note in their book introduction that allusions to mythology, historical events, and places can be very difficult for modern translators because so much early medieval information has been lost.

Here’s a terrible translation using Google Translate set to modern Welsh-to-English to help us pull the right part of the poem. Green highlights are untranslatable words.

By the time of Evans (1910), despite the wonky OCR in the first pic and my viewing it as a single word, Aceilon is being transcribed with a space in it, as ‘Ac eilon’ (ac meaning with). It was likely also treated this way for the public domain translation by Skene (1858) that’s available on the web. It isn’t considered up to scholarly standards, but here’s the same section:

Here is the same passage cited by Stookes (1954):

Here’s the same bit in Lewis & Williams’ (2019) translation:

I’ve not got my grubby paws on the recommended line-by-line analysis by Haycock (2007) yet, which may yield more insight. But it looks as though translators, not seeing Aceilon as a familiar word, divided it then pulled in the bard/poet/musician meaning, which traces to that proto-Indo-European root word that also survives in Gaelic ‘ceilidh’. There’s a lot of diversity in the translations, so it’s likely still being debated.

It might be that, if it’s indeed a single word here, Aceilon was being used as an allusion to a mythical court poet (Loki and Bragi both possibly being bards in Odin’s court).

References:

J. G. Evans (1910) text of the Book of Taliesin

National Library of Wales’s digital images of Peniarth MS 2 (Llyfr Taliesin)

W.F. Skene (1858) translation via Ancient Texts

S. Stookes ‘Before the Conquest’ Music & Letters, Vol. 35, No. 4 (Oct., 1954), pp. 287-293

Gwyneth Lewis and Rowan Williams (2019). The Book of Taliesin: Poems of Warfare and Praise in an Enchanted Britain. London: Penguin Classics - available on Kindle.

Wikipedia’s “Book of Taliesin” article

[thehorrortree]

Submission Window: December 1st, 2023 - January 31st, 2024 Payment: $25 and a contributor's copy Theme: Horror/suspense stories that take place in swamps, bayous, and marshlands The Cellar Door - Issue #5: Marshland Horrors Compiled & Edited by Aric Sundquist Short Story Submission Call: Dec 1, 2023 - Jan 31, 2024 The Cellar Door is a biannual anthology of dark fiction. Each issue will contain 8 to 12 stories based around a specific theme and will include a brand new story from a featured author. The majority of the anthology will be filled from the open submissions. Title: The Cellar Door - Issue #5: Marshland Horrors Theme: Looking for horror/suspense stories that take place in swamps, bayous, and marshlands. Special preference for stories with backwater cults/legends, cryptid monsters, and other slimy creatures lurking just below the water. Type: Creature feature, serial killer, undead/zombies, voodoo/witchcraft, suspense/thriller, cosmic horror. Word Count: 2,000 - 10,000 words. Payment: $25.00 + digital & paperback copy. Featured Author: Scotty Milder Accepted Authors (so far): Cover Art: Mikio Murakami Rights: We are seeking first time rights for 1 year after publication. After that time all rights revert back to the author. The publication will appear in both print and digital formats. Reprints: None. Previously unpublished only. Multiple Submissions: None. Simultaneous Submissions: Yes, but state in your email that it is a simultaneous submission, and please email us immediately if the story is sold elsewhere. Also, be sure to follow the Manuscript Format guidelines below when submitting. File Format: Include your story as an attachment in MS Word, LibreOffice, or Rich Text Format. Manuscript Format: Use the Modern Shunn Format. Include a short bio in the body of your email. Your subject line should read, MH Submission: ("Title") by (Author's Name). For Example, MH Submission: "The Raft" by Stephen King. Attach the story as a separate document. Response Time: 4 weeks after submissions close, if not sooner. Submission Period: Dec 1, 2023 to Jan 31, 2024. Send Submissions to: darkpenpress (at) gmail (dot) com Back to Main Submissions Page: Influential Movies/TV: The Serpent and the Rainbow, Pumpkinhead, Annihilation, Hatchet, The Skeleton Key, Rogue (2007), The Beyond, A House on the Bayou, True Detective (Season 1) Influential writings/series: Man-Thing (Marvel comic series), Swamp Thing (DC comic series), The Call of Cthulhu by HP Lovecraft, Gone South by Robert R. McCammon, Seed by Ania Ahlborn Note on 9-17-23: To get a good sense of what I'm looking for, read the free short story "The Bird is the Werd" by Xariffa Suarez, appearing in Negative Space 2. Good luck! A.S. Via: Dark Peninsula Press.

[void-ink-studios]

Day 15: Waxen

[Transcript:]

Vocal log… This is Damian, speaking on the Mindy Reid case.  Today is December 19th, 2007.

I’ve just finished up exploring the East Ivy neighborhood for clues as to the circumstances around Ms. Reid’s mysterious death.  Phin’s checking out her last known location before the morning of December 13th.

This street’s barely changed at all.  I’m pretty sure I could squeeze into all my old hiding spots if my knees wouldn’t kill me for trying.  The locals at least seem to remember me.  Made it easier to get answers from them.

No one saw Ms. Reid coming into the street.  Ms. Hutchinson recalls hearing a rustle in the bushes close to the suspected time of death, but assumed it was a raccoon.  Mr. Canton says he heard yelling towards the entrance of the street.  He poked his head out to yell at who he thought were kids to pipe down.  The screaming had stopped by the time he went back inside.

Some folks have told me the dogs are going missing.  The ones that remain apparently refuse to leave the house without their human with them.  It’s… weird.  The dogs on this street never seemed spooked before this.

I’ve been finding footprints in the bushes.  Human footprints.  And something in the woods smells like roadkill, burning roadkill.

Anyway, it’s getting dark.  I should probably head home soon…

Wait, what’s that?  A candle?

Hey!  You there!

What are you-

SHIT-!

[End of recording]

Phin, I don’t know what the hell that thing was.  It’s human.  Or, it was at some point.  It jumped at me, tried to kill me.  This shit is disgusting.  I don’t have words for this.  Just get down to the police station.  Now.

[Prompt List]

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