#and the other side of that giant shrine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugurugetofavoritemonkey · 2 months ago

Text

Fons vitae caritas - Love is the fountain of life

Summary : What if Ethan Landry survived the theater attack at the shrine ? You didn’t know he was one of the Ghostfaces and when you found him all bloody and whimpering on the floor, of course you helped him. Or in other words, you tend to the wounds of Ethan Landry, a killer but also the boy you always loved… and maybe it wasn’t an unrequited love after all. In all honesty, Ethan was enamored with you and never wanted you to be involved in all of this…

Pairing : Ethan Landry x Gn! Reader.

Word Count : 3.900 words.

Warnings : Hurt/Comfort, fluff, mention of blood, wounds and stitches.

Author’s Note : This was entirely written based on this lovely anon’s request. Tell me if I’ve missed anything and please don’t hesitate to give me feedback, it’s always greatly appreciated to know if I did good ! I also had a blast with this request (and writing for my lovely Ethan) so if you have requests for him, I’ll be excited to hear about your ideas.

You had been separated from the group at the subway station. There were way too many people at this time in the subway and you had been stuck in the middle of people walking in and out of the subway. However, what disconcerted you was the fact that Ethan, your dearest « friend », if you could really call him that with how much the two of you were close, let go of your hand in the middle of running to the subway. Maybe it was just a coincidence, you thought, without really believing it. Ethan always held your hand when you were outside, always, and he never let go of you, especially when there were that many people around, and with a killer on the loose on top of that. Ethan knew that you could get a bit scared outdoors when he wasn’t there to hold your hand and reassure you that everything was okay. He always looked back to see exactly where you were to look after you, but strangely… this time, when Ethan let go of your hand, he didn’t even make an attempt to walk back to get you, as he continued walking straight ahead like nothing happened… and it definitely wasn’t like him to do something like that.

Everyone was ahead of you as you made your best to catch up on them after you had finally reached your stop. Luckily you knew the city by heart and it was easy for you to quickly arrive at the theater, where everyone had planned to trap the Ghostface killer inside his own shrine. Unfortunately, because you got to the theater way after the others, it was hard for you to find them as you walked inside the giant building. At some time, you heard screams of pain, you believed it was Chad as you started to walk faster in order to help him but when you thought you had finally reached him, you got further separated from your friends as not one but two Ghostfaces cornered you in a small room during the attack.

The hooded killers laughed as they closed the door behind them before removing their masks. You gasped in shock as you realized with widened eyes that the Ghostfaces were Detective Wayne Bailey and his - actually alive - daughter, Quinn. You tried to run past them but that was just futile as they laughed even louder at you, mocking you as Wayne didn’t even bother to make useless moves, barely lifting his arm up to shoot you in the right shoulder as he ordered his daughter to finish you off. Quinn stabbed you in the stomach as you groaned in pain and coughed a bit of blood when she harshly removed the knife from you, making you almost instantly fall to the ground in a silent cry, your vision slowly becoming dark and blurry as they both thought they had you dead and closed the door behind them like nothing happened.

Honestly, you should have been dead with all the blood that you lost but it seemed that fate had been by your side this time. When you woke up from your loss of consciousness, you got up with excruciating pain in your right side and shoulder. When you clenched your hand over your wounds, you could feel the blood staining your clothes and decided to tear a part of your long skirt to make rudimentary bandages that you wrapped around your shoulder and waist in hope that it will stop the bleeding at least until you get home. When you started walking to find the exit where you came from, it almost seemed that everything was over with how silent the theater had become. Moving your body was making your head dizzy as you winced in pain but you kept walking while avoiding the debris that were now obstructing some part of the silent shrine. Among them, two bodies particularly caught your attention… Quinn and her father were laying on the ground with fresh blood surrounding them… they had what they deserved, you thought without remorse as you quickly averted your gaze from them. After a few minutes, you finally found the exit that wasn’t too far away from you, making a smile appear on your face with the promise of safety that you could almost grasp.

But when you were about to finally escape, you heard silent whimpers of pain coming from a corner. As you got closer, you could see Ethan laying on the ground on his stomach, almost covered in blood as a TV was crushing his right side : the edge of his face and a whole part of his shoulder. You gasped in shock and ran over to him, quickly removing the TV from him by pushing on it with your foot, gathering all the strength you could gather to rescue him. His safety being the only thing on your mind right now.

Once you could finally see Ethan better, the state he was in was more than alarming : the right side of his face was all bruised, both of his shoulders seemed to have bigger opened wounds as blood was gushing out and he had small cuts all around his mouth as Ethan coughed up blood, making you panic even more as you carefully lifted Ethan in your arms, making his head rest on your lap as you gently caressed his hair. Your eyes watered when you had to imagine the pain he was in at the moment as your heart started to pound violently against your chest, anxiety controlling you as it was almost impossible for you to breathe.

You always had a soft spot for Ethan… or even more than that if you were honest with yourself and it broke your heart to see your poor Ethan that way. You tried ever so gently to caress the left side of his face in a way to reassure Ethan with your presence, miraculously making him stir awake little by little. Ethan only succeeded in fluttering his eyes open as his breath was ragged. When his eyes spotted your face looking down at him as tears rolled down your cheeks just to fall on his eyelashes, Ethan almost thought he was in heaven. He immediately wanted to talk to you but because he was stabbed in the mouth, Ethan struggled to talk and articulate his words at first but after a moment he managed to whisper your name in a silent weep. It was hard for him to even look at you, let alone breathe properly as his eyes watered at the sight of you all bloody in front of him. But what made his heart really flutter was the way you were looking at him, with such gentle eyes as you were holding his broken body in your arms.

Ethan didn’t want all of this to happen that way as his eyes briefly noticed that you were wounded somewhere, anger and frustration submerging him as he realized that his plan didn’t work the way he expected.

Ethan had made sure you would not come here today. You couldn't be hurt in any way, he had repeated in his head a hundred times after his father had explained his plan to him a few days ago… the slaughter that will happen.

You had to stay stuck in the subway, Ethan had planned on his own… and that’s exactly what he did earlier as he had let go of your hand on purpose, exactly when a lot of people gathered around, to be sure that you had no chance to go with them, even though it broke his heart to imagine how anxious this situation would be for you. But Ethan had to make sure you were the only one safe, far away from all this violence. Yet, fate had played with him and you apparently were still able to get here anyway…

When you noticed the way Ethan’s eyes started to get foggy with tears, you were half happy to see that his body and mind were reacting, meaning that he had a chance to live. However, you also tried your best to contain your sobs at his distress… even though you actually didn’t know the real reason behind it… Ethan couldn’t care less about his own injuries, his mind was plagued with one thing only… you.

Ethan needed to get his hands on his father and sister to make them pay for what they did to you. They didn’t have the right to touch you, let alone harm you in any shape or form whatsoever, he had been very clear with them, but he also painfully knew that he could never make any decisions in his father’s plan.

When Ethan bit his bottom lip with a frown on his face, your hand drew more soothing circles on his unharmed cheek as you spoke to him with such a soft and gentle voice, smiling to Ethan to reassure him, though your voice betrayed your emotions.

« It’s a-alright Ethan… the Ghostfaces are all dead… all of them… you’re s-safe now… I promise, no one will ever h-hurt you again… I’m here, w-with y-you… »

When you remembered that Detective Bailey was Ghostface, you didn’t want to stay here any longer in case he had accomplices in the police when they would get here. Who knows ? Maybe they will finish the job he couldn’t and kill the both of you… you and Ethan are currently easy targets, you realize as your heart quickened in fear.

Hurriedly, you helped Ethan on his feet with difficulties as your own shoulder was starting to bleed again with the force you were applying on it. You maneuvered his left arm around your shoulder to support his weight. Ethan whimpered in pain as you helped him walk, due to the pressure applied on his stabbing wounds, even though he tried his hardest to stay strong for you. You blurt out excuses with an anxious voice as you quicken your pace to go back to your place.

« We c-can’t stay here Ethan… I’m sorry but we’ll have to be quick. I’ll take care of you when we're safe. »

Some tears escaped Ethan’s eyes in silence with all the emotions he was going through. He couldn’t care less that his father died. After all, the man never cared for him nor even loved him as a son. He was just a tool for him. Nevertheless, Ethan could not deny the thrill he always felt when he acted as Ghostface, it was more than true and he accepted it without feeling even an ounce of remorse at those he had killed… but not you. Ethan couldn’t even envision hurting you… never.

Ethan had tried at the last moment to avert the attention of his father and sister from you, almost begging them to kill someone else in your place… that you were the only one innocent in his eyes, but it didn’t work. Just like his plan to save you from any harm. And now you were the one helping him… a killer… He was right all along, Ethan thought with a smile, as the two of you were almost home… you were definitely an angel.

When you were finally both safe, you let out a sigh of relief as you made Ethan sit down on the floor of your room with his head resting against the edge of your bed to keep his back straight. You ran over to your bathroom where you had everything you needed to take care of Ethan : disinfectant, needle, thread, bandages…etc. Luckily, you had some notions in medicine and had the right equipment for today’s case. When you come back into your room, you notice how Ethan struggles to keep his eyes open, his mind dizzy from the blood loss as he rests his head on the side of your bed. You hurriedly sit on his lap without fully putting your weight on his legs and set down all your medical tools on the bed beside you. You worriedly look at Ethan’s face as you gently yet firmly hold his cheeks in your palms, rubbing both of your thumbs on his cheekbones as you call his name to make him regain consciousness.

« Hey, Hey, Ethan, look at me… Stay with me please… I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry. »

When Ethan’s eyes flutter open to look at you, a sigh of relief comes out of your mouth, smiling at him as your fingers now move in a softer way over his cheekbones, soothing his senses with your loving gestures. After a small tender moment between the two of you where Ethan looked up at you with puppy eyes while your hands were holding his face with so much love, one of his hand coming to cover your right one as Ethan leaned into your touch, you reluctantly removed your hand from him in order to begin taking care of him. When Ethan took note of that, his hand immediately stopped yours by softly grabbing your wrist as his gaze locked with yours.

« No way you’re taking care of me first. », Ethan stated with difficulty.

Ethan almost fought against the fact that you would heal him before yourself, your wounds were also gushing too much blood for his liking, as he explained to you with a worried gaze, yet you refused to let Ethan wait for your care. He would be the first one to be treated and that was your final word, you affirmed to him with a kiss on his forehead.

Perhaps giving Ethan a kiss worked as a magic trick on him because it effectively hushed him, making Ethan’s cheeks turn slightly red at the gesture as he looked the other way and lightly bit the inside of his cheek nervously.

Still straddling Ethan’s lap, you started taking care of him by firstly removing the black robe that Ethan was wearing, it was easy enough with how loose it had gotten. When you put the black material aside, letting your eyes linger on it for a bit, all the thoughts that you kept buried since you discovered Ethan at the theater came rushing back to you. You had to ignore these thoughts once again as you didn’t have time to think about such things nor didn’t you want to. Yes he was wearing this very particular costume but… Ethan couldn’t be… No he’s not, you convinced yourself even when you perfectly knew that it wasn’t a coincidence. But still, you trusted Ethan more than anyone else and knew that he would never hurt you, ever. And that’s all that mattered to you right now, when taking care of his wounds was the only thing your whole mind was focused on, him and only him.

Afterwards, your hands came back on him as you held the hem of his shirt between your fingers, looking back at Ethan to silently ask for permission to also remove his shirt in order to give you better access to his wounds. Ethan shyly nodded before you slowly removed his shirt, being careful not to be too rough with your movements as to prevent aggravating his injuries.

Your cold hands started to search for any patch of skin that seemed wounded and needed care as you let your fingers gently slide along his body, making Ethan slightly tremble under your touch as he felt way too exposed in front of you. After checking his body, your gaze saddened when you realized that Ethan had way more injuries than you would have thought, it was even surprising that he was still alive at this point or that he wasn’t complaining about the excruciating pain that he was without a doubt experiencing right now.

Ethan must have been hit on the back of the head as a bit of blood was making his hair stick there, you also noticed that he was stabbed in the mouth and that’s why it was hard for him to talk even though he managed, as small cuts could also be seen around his mouth. But the worst injuries were on his shoulders. Ethan was stabbed in the front left shoulder 5 times as blood was still gushing a bit out of the open wounds, while the TV that you saw earlier had crushed a part of his right shoulder and side of his face, where you could see lots of bruises and cuts covering his poor skin.

You sigh shakily when you feel the stress you’re putting on yourself at the amount of stitches you’re gonna have to do on Ethan, surely more stitches than you ever did in your entire life combined. When Ethan noticed the way your hands started shaking a bit, he instinctively intertwined his fingers with yours, knowing full well how it always appeased your mind. And he’s right, Ethan always is when it’s about you, as your racing mind slows down at the feeling of Ethan’s hand, helping you decide to only treat his most urgent wounds first as you make priorities in your mind.

You’ll disinfect all his wounds but clean even more the cuts around his mouth to prevent any infections, do stitches on all of his open wounds of his left and right shoulder but also on the deeper cuts Ethan got on the right side of his face that worries you a little, and cover his shoulders with bandages to help them heal faster.

Ethan tried his best to be strong while you took care of him, he wanted to act tough in front of you, to make you feel proud of him that he wasn’t complaining, but he still couldn’t control everything as the little grunts and whimpers of pain Ethan let out were breaking your heart in little pieces. His jaw was tightly clenched as his eyes were filled with tears of pain that rolled over his face from time to time.

You were the only thing that was helping him get through this as Ethan noticed how gentle you were with him, while he tried his best to keep his eyes open in order to engrave all the little details in his memory. Like your face that was focusing on your task, a frown appearing on it when you were putting all your attention on a particular stitch. Or the way your hands controlled themselves from trembling even though it was hard for you at this moment, Ethan noticed with dreamy eyes. He also remarked the way your chest was heaving up and down at a fast pace, as Ethan’s hands were grabbing your thighs during the entire time. His fingers ever so gently danced across your skin as his thumbs occasionally rubbed over your thighs with soothing circles absentmindedly. His hands never left you as your position on his lap was making it easy for him to access your thighs, the comforting and loving caresses soothing you and Ethan at the same time.

When it was your turn to take care of your own wounds in front of Ethan, still in the same comfortable position, he was now the one to bring you the reassurance and love you desperately craved, in order to make this painful moment go by as quickly as he could. Ethan held your hand when he could and when it wasn’t possible with your movements, he gently let his hand rest on the unharmed side of your waist, drawing reassuring and affectionate caresses on your skin as Ethan looked at you with saddened but soft eyes, reminding you that he was here for you even though he couldn’t do much at the moment.

After you were both patched up, your hands naturally returned to cup Ethan’s face lovingly, caressing the bruised and stitched side of his skin softly as you covered his entire face in kisses. Ethan automatically did the exact same thing to you as his bigger hands went to cup your jaw protectively, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks tenderly as he made you bend down a little to press kisses on your nose, forehead, cheeks and corner of your mouth. You were both bringing the other one the reassuring presence you needed from each other and the love that you both should have fully shared much earlier if you two weren’t the most bashful people on earth.

Now fully sitting on Ethan’s lap as exhaustion took over you, Ethan caressed in a feather light touch your now stitched up wounds, a touch that you almost could not feel with how gentle and careful he was. Ethan looked at your injuries with anger, sadness and frustration that he wasn’t there to protect you and prevent them from happening.

Ethan quietly sobbed at that as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, careful not to touch your stitches as he hoarsely muttered excuses with a muffled and trembling voice, « I’m s-sorry… so s-sorry, baby… »

You didn’t understand why he would say that… well not completely. He didn’t have anything to do with your wounds and he would never hurt you in any shape or form. Seeing your sweet Ethan sob in your arms was shattering your soul as you just wanted to hold him closer to your heart, softly enough as to not aggravate his injuries.

You both hugged each other during a moment that felt out of time, Ethan firmly clinging to your body, as you calmly caressed his hair while massaging his scalp soothingly. Ethan’s figure being much larger than you, it was like you were hiding in a cocoon where nothing could harm you anymore, as you felt at peace in his protective arms.

Ethan broke the hug at one point to look at you and got closer to your face as he pressed a chaste kiss on your lips that you mirrored almost instantly. Ethan giggled between kisses as you were both eagerly pressing as many kisses as possible to the other’s mouth.

With your mouth still lingering on his, you reassured him with a beautiful smile that Ethan cherished, as he peacefully listened to the words that you whispered against his lips.

« Together, everything will be okay… I know I’ll be safe with you Ethan. And… you’ll always have me, b-because… I care for you more than you could ever imagine. »

Ethan’s gaze widened with affection at your honest declaration as his eyes looked down at your lips, pressing his mouth to yours as he deepened the kiss by cupping your cheeks, not wanting to let you go too far from him. After breaking the kiss, Ethan bashfully intertwined his fingers with yours as he looked down to observe with attention the way he was fidgeting with your hand.

« Can I say that I love you ? », he asked while looking back into your eyes. Ethan felt awkward while saying that, it was the first time for him after all. Though, the pretty boy quickly changed his mind when he felt your lips whisper close to his ear how much you loved him back, making Ethan smile in the most adorable way possible.

💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist 💗

#ethan landry x reader #scream x reader #jack champion #ethan landry #ghostface x reader #ghostface #my own stardust #ethan kirsch x reader #scream 6

230 notes · View notes

thedinanshiral · 3 months ago

Text

Inside you there are two wolves..

I recently made a tweet simply sharing a fraction of my thoughts on the Solavellan motif of wolf&halla. I decided to expand on it here.

I never adhered to the whole wolf/halla Solavellan thing. That dynamic is simply not for me, not with them. I think Solas is more likely to fall for an equal; even if Lavellan technically isn't, she's definitely the closest he's met in a thousand years. She's the white wolf [in his romanced tarot card] Adding to this, he respects her opinion and counsel, she inadvertently may help him make up his mind about what he'll do next (woops) aka giving him purpose, and she can also vow to save him from himself. She's both his guide and guardian. This is his romanced card for a reason.

I can understand why many people may like to frame Solavellan in the wolf&halla motif. He's an ancient elvhen, she's literally thousands of years younger than him. He's wise beyond her imagination and she knows by comparison basically nothing of their own history. He's the deciever and she's the deceived. The predator/prey dynamic is right there, at first.

Solas is a proud man, one may argue even arrogant, but he's also a serious man, focused, disciplined, he wouldn't fall for just anyone, he wouldn't open his heart to someone he may consider lesser even in the slightest. While he refused to acknowledge present elves as people and maybe thought of them as little else than a bad dream he had to wake up from at any cost, Lavellan earned his trust, his respect and admiration, through her actions, her own "indomitable focus", and by showing him the respect and admiration other Dalish denied him on sight. She gave him hope for the future of his people and that must have been priceless, she literally changed his whole world.

At that point there was no hunting, no preying, no seeing Lavellan as another chesspiece on the board, even if she couldn't be allowed to be anything else. She defied all his preconceptions and rendered him vulnerable. Their relationship is consensual, up to a certain point it ends when Lavellan says it ends, he doesn't pursue further if rejected. Actually, it's Lavellan who pursues him most of the time, why isn't Solas the halla here? He's the one being chased!

Lavellan is a wolf too, the white wolf.

The Exalted Plains has shrines to Fen'harel, one in particular is flanked by two wolf figures, one white and the other black. His dual nature is always present; in Dalish lore he's despised as the betrayer but also revered and his favour still sought after. As the Dreadwolf he was both friend and enemy to the people, depending on which side they were on. He's prideful but can also be crushingly selfless.

I really like this shrine because of these statues

The white and black wolves also appear in his tarot cards.

When he falls for Lavellan, he's locked in for good; even as he ends the relationship before even giving it a name, his card changes to his romanced one, and there's no going back. Lavellan can't undo it, he won't even though he's the one insisting their love can not be. But it is, and it is for life. Wolves mate for life. This immediately tells me Lavellan is also a wolf, and she's represented in his romanced card as the white one.

At the forefront, walking next to him, watching, guarding him. Colours are light, golden, the scene is calm, serene.

If he's never romanced then the other card of his give us a very different image:

His shadow becomes a giant black wolf that towers over him, right behind him, leaning forward almost as if about to engluf him, consume him. This is possibly a representation of his Dinan'shiral, and more clearly of his Dreadwolf aspect. He's set himself on a journey he can not stop and from which he can not return.

Interestingly enough there's an alternative version of this card that was discarded:

In it his head isn't covered by a hood, he carries no staff and there is no moon. The menacing wolf haunting him remains the same.

While the black wolf walks behind him, the white wolf walks beside him. He considers Lavellan his equal, even in all their differences. While the black wolf seems about to consume him, the white wolf is guarding him, staring at the viewer as if asying "Do not dare disturb his peace". He knows she'd do anything to protect him out of love even as he's decided to destroy himself out of love for his people (and tons upon tons of guilt).

Lavellan made him vulnerable in a way he had not foreseen and so he had no defenses against that love. I strongly believe only a romanced Lavellan can change his mind, at the very least make him doubt at the last moment. As much as he respects and appreciates a friend Inquisitor, it simply isnt' the same. Lavellan is to him a light so bright he had to force himself to look away lest he became blind and lost in it.

I remember people were puzzled at first, why if his romanced card is The Hierophant it had almost all elements of The Fool? There's two simple reasons i can think of. First of all, he's a fool in love. Falling in love with Lavellan is probably the stupidest thing he's done since he woke up, considering he's on a suicide mission to end her world. But that he did speaks of trust, opened up possibilities he hadn't imagined, Lavellan's innocence was contagious and powerful enough that he really had to struggle to turn away from her.

At the same time, the Hierophant is a teacher of tradition, which really had been his role all throughout Inquisition, and the last thing he does before cutting the romance was share more of that lost knowledge to Lavellan, the truth of the vallaslin.

Solas' romanced card is two cards combined referencing multiple aspects of their character and relationship, and we could also consider the Fool to be Lavellan, because the defining element in the card design that can make people wonder which card is it is the white wolf. She's the fool mortal that fell for a god, she's the Keeper who fell for Fen'harel, and she didn't know it until it was too late.

As for his final card, The Tower, it doesn't necessarily have to be so terrible. Much like Death, The Tower is about change. The end of the old to allow for the new, and changes can be positive or negative, they can be gentle or earth-shattering. In Solas' case we know he's aiming for the resurgence of the world he knew by destroying the one he inadvertently created when he put up the Veil, but this card may also symbolize the destruction of all his preconceptions and ideas, the realization that the world he knew was gone and another strange one he couldn't accept had taken its place, the symbolic death of a part of himself as he changed in his time with the Inquisition.

I imagine the white wolf represents his soul, in a way, the thing by which he may be redeemed. And that is Lavellan. No halla, but a wolf that's been tracking him for years, hunting him down to stop him because she and she alone has the power to do so. And he's been running away from her for as many years because he knows this even better than she does, he knows she's his last remaning weakness, the one that makes him vulnerable enough to break his resolve because in the end hers is stronger.

I really don't think he'd be capable of harming Lavellan, and if he does i feel it would drive him mad and cause him to lose whatever control he'd have left. He'd lose his light, his soul, his heart, leaving behind only the shadows. He chose to leave rather than take Lavellan out of the equation here and that tells me he can't bring himself to do it, it's too late now, he feels too much for her.

Now I'm extra curious and anxious to see what role the Inquisitor will play in The Veilguard, if they'll meet Solas again, what effect that would have on both of them.

And I hope neither tries to do something stupid..

#solas #lavellan #solavellan #DAI tarot #dragon age

91 notes · View notes

stygianoaths · 2 years ago

Text

TSATS but it's Connor Stoll receiving a message through the Shrine of Hermes again and he's quickly unfolding the paper because he knows it's Nico and Will on the other end.

The demigod is definitely relieved that they're still alive, but he can't help but let the anxiety of what happened last time get to him. Gods, that was a massacre.

So, whatever this is going to be, well, it can't be great.

Every head counselor and camper who participated in the Second Giant War knows this very well, and they watch him with wary anticipation.

Apollo just returned to godhood. Their strongest heroes were on opposite sides of the country. There aren't as many campers to strengthen the Athena Parthenos. What more could the Fates throw at them?

Connor Stoll reads through the note with focused eyes that soon turn to bewildered ones. Clarisse nudges him, alarmed.

"Hey, hey! What is it? Connor? Oi!"

He looks up from the paper with a look that Clarisse thinks is crossed between murderous, exasperated, and relief.

"These assholes just sent me their McDonald's order."

#hermes getting a happy meal would be the funniest fucking thing #tsats #the sun and the star #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #connor stoll #clarisse la rue #apollo #hermes #athena #moirai #riordanverse #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians

3K notes · View notes

stuck1nthelimbo · 7 months ago

Text

[ butt ] * og ryōmen sukuna x f!reader // 0.5k, 2nd pov, edited repost, no beta, no smut, implied demolition lol butt slapping lol teasing || ✨m.list✨

You claim to know this place. The eternal darkness, with hints of glimmering arctic blue underneath your feet. Not sure how you ended up here, the last thing you remember is the conversation with Itadori, and then… Your memory’s fuzzy and aimlessly roaming this vast dark space is all that’s left. The moment your vision adjusts to the pitch-black surroundings, you catch a glimpse of an ominous structure: a Buddhist shrine adorned with what can only be human skulls. The realization hits you…

Piercing, booming laughter resounds around. It feels as if the blood coursing through your veins freezes solid. Shoulders feel heavy, weighted down and your back breaks out in beads of cold sweat.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” the voice behind you is guttural, hoarsely pouring out from the depth of the throat prickling your skin, “Tiny mouse got lost, didn't it?”

You swiftly spin on your feet, only to be met with the grotesque physique of a monster looming just inches away: four enormous, bulging arms hanging low, a respective number of legs on the ground, evenly spread out. Tattooed black lines run along its gibbous arms, shoulders, wide chest. And the stomach has a giant horizontal incision near the navel, with a fleshy tongue hanging through the slit.

Before you run for your life, two of those massive hands swathe your arms, binding you to the spot. The other two find their way to your waist, casually draping over the sides. With your upper half immobilized, your breath hitches when those two palms sneak down, fingers dancing along the bare delicate flesh under the shorts.

Suddenly all motion halts, but before you let out a sigh of relief, both of those hefty palms swat your ass. The initial impact passes, and long, large fingers dig into the body. You chew on your lip, suppressing any sound that strives to slip. That stings. The curse sneers, baring its monstrous teeth. The horrors gnaw you inside out.

“Did ya get lost on purpose, lil’ one?” You don't have a moment to process the question, another harsh swat comes. Those two giant hands encase each of your ass cheeks, sinking into the meat. Long fingers splay across the entirety of your upper thighs, sharp claws near piercing the tender skin. The digits knead your ass as if it’s dough.

“Sukuna...” the name thoughtlessly slips, the fear now settled in your voice. The king of curses insolently grins: he leans toward you. Tightening the grip on your wrists, the grasp bruises the flesh underneath. The hands clamping on thighs drag your legs apart, straining your balance. Middle fingers from the limbs locked on the ass cheeks lurk farther, just grazing against the soft fabric of your underwear. The tip of his talon hooks on the cotton material, piercing it.

“Looks like you already know me…” The tone’s menacing. One of its arms unhands you and lands another stinging smack on your rear. You wince at the prolonged contact on already lacerated ass, “we're gonna have fun, mouse,” his hot breath steams down your head.

Your timing to be entrapped in the domain of Ryomen Sukuna cannot be worse.

90 notes · View notes

dominantslasherking · 1 year ago

Note

Your work is just perfection chefs kiss you're the reason I got into the community to begin with. If you can could you perhaps wright a part 2 for David Mccal please that includes smut please😆?! Your work makes me super happy so thank you soon much.😘

David Mccall with dominant Male S/o

(Pt 2)

click here for pt 1

Backstory: Growing closer, you just realize how sinister and obsessed David is with you.

Warning: Smut + Worshiping (David likes to worship you etc)

David had made sure to be in your life as much as possible, it was clear he was possessive and hated when others tried to get romantically inclined with you.

Currently, you were at Davids's house, (A house he shared with his weird ass friends) You actually had spotted David through the window, decided to knock on the door, and wait for David.

David had instantly brightened up at your arrival. "[Name] I'm so, glad, you're here, I missed you!" David said pulling your much taller frame into a hug.

David was typically this clingy and strange towards you, with his weird friends he always acted stoic and indifferent. David was indeed strange.

"Yeah, I missed you too." You muttered it's actually only been around 2 hours with you too apart from each other, but sometimes it's actually strange not having David stick to your side like glue.

But something strange has been happening recently, all your own male friends have actually been disappearing, even your sisters Nicole's friend Gary, ended up, going missing, just because you were only on friendly terms with him.

You could only assume it was David, you knew he was actually weirdly obsessed with you, he even got a tattoo of your name on his chest, not too big though.

"Let's go to my room." David had said with a gentle smile, his eyes coldly tilting to his weird friends that he shared a house with, most of them were criminals and such.

You simply nodded as David held your hand and went up the stairs, the house was rather trashed with graffiti and stuff, but the door to David's room actually looked nice.

Just as the inside. "Surprised?" David asked, showing off his actually well-kept room, but what rather distributed you the most was the giant picture of you, with what seems to be a makeshift shrine or something..

It was confirmed by David was fucking crazy for you. And you definitely didn't want to know what was in the box just below the makeshift shrine.

David was already taking off his shirt, showing off his lean body. Slowly, giving a smile. "I just can't help it [Name]..." David slowly stated, his voice cold, "I just love you too much to not worship you." David whispered seductively going in closer, as he raised his head to look up at you, his lips smashing against yours. His movements were precise, David had gotten you hard in no time, David was also completely rock solid, his lips churning as he took your clothes off, to reveal your own body. "So fucking perfect." David had stated as he started kissing down your chest, over to your pecs, and finally to your stomach. "Amazing,--fuck.." David's whispers of praise continued.

David's kisses trailed all the way to your cock, which was being eagerly stroked. Soon after David couldn't resist, and ran over to his bedside table and grabbed the lube. "I just, need you inside me." He growled out, as you watched him quickly return back over, and lube up your cock. "Sit down." He said with a grin, you complied taking a seat on his bed, as David positioned himself onto your lap. His puckering hole, slowly diving down on your cock. "Mm." You muttered out a small groan, as David's enlightened heat enclosed onto your rod. David took in a deep breath, as he descended himself fully onto your cock, as you were balls deep inside David. His hands were a bit shaky so he rested them on your thigh, as he slowly began to ride. This gave you a perfect view of David's hole devouring your entire length in all its monstrous size.

"Ohh~--I can feel you plunge into me every time I move like-" Instead of speaking any further, David sped up his riding pase, his hole tightening each time around you. the entire room was filled with the skin-slapping of David's intense riding. David's hole was noisy and messy around your shaft. David had suddenly increased harder, basically impaling himself onto your cock, David's movements slowed a bit as he came all over his chest, his puckering hole spazzing around your cock tightly, sucking you in deep, as he slowly rode.

After a while, David had calmed down from his high, and resumed his bouncing, feeling your cock twitch only made David more excited, as he threw his head back. "Yes, yes--oh fuck--that's right! Fuck all your semen into meee---" David cried out, as suddenly you splurged right inside his hole, David's body shook from pure delight as he purposely tightened his hole to keep in all of your cum.

#fear 1996 #fear 1996 x reader #slasher x male reader #slasher x reader #slashers x male reader #David Mccall x reader #David Mccall smut #David Mccall x male reader #fear david x reader #yandere david mccall #yandere david mccall x reader #yandere david mccall x male reader #david mccall x male reader #david mccall x male reader smut #David Mccall x you #David Mccall one-shot

358 notes · View notes

deathmetalunicorn1 · 5 months ago

Note

Hi,

I saw you seen Poppy Playtime and Dogday is my favorite too. Can you write a scenario where Dogday lives and how he would help MC defeat the Prototype. Or how about if Mc met Dogday in Chapter 1 and he helps MC through the whole Playtime Co. building. I’ve seen some people put a Yandere twist on it maybe something like that?

-You couldn’t help but scowl deeply, starting the next generation, “Why did I come back to this place? Yeah, sure it was a creepy abandoned toy factory- that part is fine, but giant killer toys and a whole friggen underground city- hell to the no!!”

-Muttering to yourself as you used your Grab-Pack to pull something closer to you so you could get to the next area, you didn’t realize you were being listened to.

-You came across another one of those Smiling Critters cutouts, a bear this time and a chill went up your spine, feeling eyes on you, but when you looked around, nothing was there as you scowled, equipping your newest addition to your Grab-Pack, a flare gun!

-You looked down at it, looking a bit surprised before you tilted your head back, a deep sigh leaving you, “Why would I need a flare gun this deep under- HOLY BEANS!!” you pointed the flare at a tiny stuffed toy that was moving towards you, and the moment you hit it, it scrambled away, screaming as if it was in pain.

-Clutching your chest over your hammering heart, you tried to make sense of what you just saw before another one, this time of an elephant, came out and you shot at that one as well.

-Swallowing your fear you quickly moved, looking through the next area for what you needed.

-You weren’t expecting to find cages down here, “First a cult-like school with that scary-ass teacher, Catnap’s shrine to the Prototype- what next?”

-As if he was waiting for you to finish, a new voice spoke up, “You! You’re Poppy’s angel!” you leapt back in fear, slamming into a closed jail cell, panicking to hear another voice before your eyes went wide, seeing Dogday, or at least half of him.

-He looked like he was near death, his legs missing, his arms bound, keeping him pinned to the wall, looking like he had been tortured for who knows how long.

-You listened to him, as he explained what happened to him, how he was captured and how he was the last of the Smiling Critters, besides Catnap. You could see his eye lights shining, “Please- you must finish this- end his reign and- oh no- NO- you need to run! Get out of here!”

-You heard the scurrying of footsteps of those little critters, and you turned to run, before you froze, looking back at Dogday, he was a sitting duck- he wouldn’t stand a chance against them.

-Your Grab-Pack hands shot out, grabbing onto Dogday as he shouted, “What are you doing? Leave me- I’m not worth-” SNAP!! The binds holding him snapped from the wall and you hugged the much larger critter before you turned, “I decide who’s worthy of saving!”

-His arms were wrapped around you, holding on so you could focus on getting out of the area. He felt like crying- it had been so long since he cried- how many years had it been?

-You felt him squeezing you harder and you couldn’t help but smile softly as you quickly ran through a series of massive pipes until you came across a slide and quickly sat down before laying down, so he could fit as well.

-Once you landed safely on the other side, you were panting softly before you flopped back to your back, a deep sigh leaving your lips, “This place sucks.”

-Dogday slowly lifted himself up on his hands, seeing you there, you saved him? Why? He wasn’t worth it- he was broken, a hindrance to you, so why…

-Once you caught your breath you grabbed one of the belts around his wrists, removing it before you tied it around his waist, cinching him shut, “Sorry if it hurts Dogday, but this will have to do until I can get you out of here.”

-He didn’t complain, he was oddly silent, watching you take care of him before you removed the rest of the belts from his arms and fashioned a backpack type of sling, “Okay- let’s see how this is gonna work.”

-After a few minutes and after nearly falling on your face, you had Dogday strapped to your back, so he was looking behind you and you grinned, “Okay- let’s get back to Poppy and Kissy.”

-Dogday finally spoke, once you started walking, “Why- why did you save me?” he sounded like he was in shock or disbelief.

-You just beamed, tilting your head back into his, feeling his fuzzy head, “You’re one of the few who hasn’t tried to kill me- and I wasn’t going to just leave you there to get- to get whatever those little bastards would do to you.”

-Instantly he scolded you, “Language!” your laughter filled the halls, it was almost comical, being scolded for your foul mouth before you reached up with one of your hands, scratching at his head, “But yeah- I’m not leaving anyone behind who shouldn’t be.”

-His chest felt warm as he felt that strange feeling again, like he was crying, but there were no tears shed, as he felt overwhelmed with happiness, knowing that you had such a kind heart to save someone like him.

-He was going to do his best for you- you saved him so now he has to keep you safe- he didn’t want anything bad to happen to you. He wasn’t going to allow it.

#poppy playtime #dogday #poppy playtime dogday #poppy playtime x reader

61 notes · View notes

talonabraxas · 10 months ago

Text

Buddha Eyes Talon Abraxas

In stupas, there are giant pairs of eyes that are looking out from the four sides of the stupa. These eyes are also known as wisdom eyes or Buddha's eyes. These eyes in the stupa symbolize the all-seeing ability of Buddha. If we use the wisdom eyes then we see the truth and we can fulfill our dreams. On virtually every Buddha statues, Buddha heads and Buddha stupa (Buddhist shrines) from countries like India, Nepal, Thailand, Burma, China and others, there are pairs of eyes casting down as if in a meditation state, and enriched with a spiritual aura. This style has been a model for various generations of artists while depicting them in various Buddha heads and Buddha images. In Buddhism, there are two kinds of eyes, first the inner eyes or eyes of wisdom, which sees the world of Dhamma, which is also known as the Third eye of the Buddha, while the other is called the outer eyes which is also called as material eyes which sees the outer world. Therefore, it may be seen and understood easily that the eyes in the Buddha statues and Buddha heads are also of two kinds. The material eyes are the two eyes which see the outer world while the inner eyes, or the one which sees the Dhamma is the one in the middle of the two material eyes. This inner eye is also known as the urna.

62 notes · View notes

judyfromfinance · 2 years ago

Text

Olden Times. Modern Thinking.

(Heimdall/Modern!Reader)

Summary: You know things you’re not supposed to. You behave oddly. And the way you speak is even odder. Kratos, Mimir, and Atreus have no idea if they should believe your ramblings of another world and of a future they have no way of knowing is real. But, you seem harmless enough. Plus, Faye may rise from her grave if they let a poor woman freeze to death in their forest, right outside their home no less.

Chapter 6

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It’s been a whirlwind of activities since Týr showed up in the Huldra Brothers extravagant treehouse. The Gods traipsed off to Alfheim in search of Gróa’s shrine. Of course you couldn’t go because of the whole ‘being mortal’ bit. But it didn’t matter because you knew what they were going to find there. A shrine portraying a prophecy about the destruction of Asgard, and the Giants champion running the helm. You knew that Kratos and Atreus would argue. One believing in a destiny that was written in the stars just for him and the other refusing to give the fates of this world any leverage over him, or his son. They came back, clouded in anger. Kratos went to brood. Atreus went to sleep. And soon after, drifted into another world far from here. And Týr, tried to pick up a conversation with you. But thankfully Brok was always there to ask for your help with something him and Sindri were working on. Although confused, Sindri didn’t mind. In fact he quite liked teaching you things here and there. Probably because you actually listened to him unlike Brok.

Two days passed. Everyone was a wreck. No one knew where Atreus was. Except you of course. Brok asked you but you told him you couldn’t tell him. And he rightfully got a bit upset at you. You tried to explain to the best of your abilities why you couldn’t say anything about where he was but it was difficult. This was the one thing you disliked about the game. The obtuseness of certain dialogues and how no one just came out and talked to each other. Miscommunication was annoying and honestly shouldn’t be a real problem in real people’s live because, HEY, just SPEAK UP. Talk about your feelings. Set boundaries. Communicate. And yet… here you were. Doing the exact same thing you despised. But you couldn’t help it. Not with this. Not with Ironwood. Was it annoying? Yes. But was this obtuseness necessary for the greater good? Also yes.

But thankfully all of that is done and behind you. You glance around the purple void as you walk along the branches of Yggdrasil. Brok and Sindri walking in front of you. You hear the brothers converse ahead. Sindri saying something about how glad he is that they found Atreus but wondering what in the Hel has gotten into him. ‘Running away from home like that.’ With a puffy huff at the end. You can’t help but smile. Home. If you can’t go back to yours, you hope the gods and dwarves around you can make a permanent spot for you.

“Hurry up or we’ll leave you here, girly.” Brok said as he crossed his arms in front of the gate. Sindri turned around quickly, “We would never do that (Y/n).” He turns back to Brok, “Someone just doesn’t understand patience.” Brok walked through the door, ignoring both you and Sindri who motioned to the gate, “Ladies first.” You smile and thank him as you also walk through. You glance around the cold and frozen landscape before your eyes stopped on three gods standing in front of your old cabin. They all walk towards you before Kratos motions for Atreus to go with you and the dwarves. Now is your time. You stand to the side with Brok as Atreus and Sindri walk into the gate. Freya walks up to Kratos before telling him of her plan to travel to Vanaheim.

“Well. Guess it’s just us then.” Freya rolls her eyes before stopping their decent back into her skull. She looks towards you, confused.

“And who are you?” She looks you up and down. She can probably tell your a mortal so you just tell her your name. Kratos turns towards you as well. “What are you doing here? Why have you not gone back home with Atreus?” Here it goes. Freya questions Kratos, “You know her? Why do you travel with a human? Who is she to you?” You speak up to plead your case as Brok opens up a door to Vanaheim.

“Like I said, I’m just (Y/n). Um, Kratos and Atreus saved me from freezing to death right outside their house. I owe them a lot.” Your eyes shift back over to Kratos. “I know I can’t do much but trust me when I say I have to go with you guys to Vanaheim. There’s something I need to talk to you about.” Freya sighs and shakes her head before sheathing her sword.

“No. We cannot take you. You’ll just be an unnecessary risk and burden on our way to garner my freedom.” Ouch. That was harsh. Kratos doesn’t move a muscle as he questions you. “Can this not wait until we are back in the dwarves home?” You shake your head as you make your way over to Brok.

“No it can’t. And frankly I’m not asking for permission from either of you. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. Even if those decisions could lead to me getting hurt.” You cringe a bit. The last part sounded dumb as all hell. Freya walks over to you, “You mean to your death.” Ice cold. Not an ounce of warmth in her voice. “Yeah, that too I guess.”

“I am sorry but I’m not letting you get in the way of what I seek.” You stare back into her chocolate brown eyes. You could almost see the hurt and anger swirling behind her irises. “I understand but I’m still going. Plus…” you pat Brok on the shoulder, “…Brok can look after me!” He swung his arm at you. “HA. You wish.” You scowl and try to push him into the snow.

“Enough.” Kratos steps forward. “Will you watch over her or no?” Brok sighs, “Fine. Why the hell not. House is getting stuffy anyways. We could both do with some strechin our legs.” Kratos hums before he and Freya step through the gate.

“So, you’re finally going to tell him? Good. Thought you were gonna wimp out on me.” You shiver. “I almost did. I just… I just don’t want him to be mad at me.” Brok nods his head in understanding. “Don’t go frettin’ ‘bout nothin’. Knowing the future is hard enough on some gods. But knowin’ the future as a human? An odd one from another world to boot? I’m sure he’ll understand that shit ain’t easy for anyone.”

“I hope so.” And with that you both stepped through the door. Vanaheim, here we come.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Brok kept his word and protected you from all sorts of monsters that spawned in front of you. And despite Freya’s chilly demeanor, you saw her sword slice a few Draugr that got just a bit too close to you. Kratos did as well. You hate being a burden for them but this was the only to get Kratos alone. Away from any secret conniving gods or ravens. Plus they didn’t have to haul you for long. A certain god of fertility’s camp was coming up soon.

But you will admit, seeing all these creatures in real life was quite terrifying. They weren’t pixels on a tv anymore. They were growling, snarling, spitting beasts. And for some reason they seemed keen on killing you. Not your group as a whole. You. Just you. Though they did fight the others, some of them were pulled towards you. As if you were a magnet for trouble or something. You shiver thinking about how their different colored blood sprayed from their bodies as axes and swords plunged through them like cake. Thankfully Mimir had noticed your fear and discomfort, cracking jokes or telling you stories from Kratos’ belt to help calm your anxieties. And you’ll thank him thoroughly for that once you reach Freyr’s camp. Freya had unfortunately turned into a falcon by now. So it was only Kratos and Brok doing the bulk of the fighting now. That is, until you hear a familiar snap and a scream. Oh no, forgot to mention that to Brok. Whoops. Oh well, he’ll be fine. Brok struggles to get down as Kratos tells you both to remain silent. You make your way over to Brok. Maybe once he’s cut down you can catch him.

“Now what do we have here?” A voice asks from the darkness. “Ol’ One-Eye send another god to do his dirty work? Thor too busy?” Kratos squares off his shoulders. “We do not serve Odin.” Freyr lights a small torch before throwing the two rocks back onto the ground. “No? Picked a dangerous place for sightseeing then.” He shrugs. “Am I right?” And it was then that Freyr’s comrades decided to make their presence known. Weapons in hand and raised. But you paid them no mind as you felt a familiar buzzing in your chest. Or more so, in your bra. You had almost forgotten that you placed you phone there for safe keeping. But now you couldn’t pull it out fast enough as Fergie’s ‘Clumsy’ started playing on full blast. It’s was your best friends ringtone.

‘First time

That I saw your eyes

Boy you looked right through me, mmmhmm’

You freeze up in mortification as you make eye contact with Freyr. You can feel your cheeks heat up in pure embarrassment as you chuck your fur pelt off of you. Everyone else stops what they’re doing as they stare at you in complete confusion. You, in your embarrassed haze, don’t even notice Lunda cut Brok down as he falls to the ground beside you.

‘Play it cool

But I knew you knew

That cupid hit me, mmm mmm’

As you shove your hand down your shirt you glance back up again to still see Freyr looking at you. This time with a bit of a smirk on his face. You would be upset at your friend but you knew she would be just as embarrassed as you if you called her in the middle of a meeting and on full blast Gwen Stefani’s ‘The Sweet Escape’ started playing. So you’ll forgive her. If you ever made it back home that is. You finally pull your phone out of your shirt but by that time the call had ended. And now you just realized that you missed a phone call. A phone call! You’ve tried sending messages and calling people but nothing ever went through. And now by some miracle a call made it to you and you fucked it all up by being embarrassed? Great. You turn to look at everyone, still frozen.

“Sorry. So sorry about that. I uh… well ya know… um. Fergie’s iconic. What do you want from me?” Freyr stepped closer to you before Kratos stopped him with the blade of his axe. “I’m sorry but uh… who are you?” You went to go answer his question but was silenced by Freya as she flew in and perched herself next to her brother. She explained who everyone was and what they were doing here. As she did that you turned towards Brok and helped him to his feet. He got up and dusted himself off.

“What in all the nine realms was that?” You crossed your arms, “Music. Ever heard of it?” He flung some dirt at you before he made his way over to Lunda and her forge. You see Kratos, Freyr, and Mimir talking at the makeshift war planning table. At least, that’s what you’re calling it. You make your way over as you hear Mimir say he would be better off here, consulting Freyr on his battle plans while Kratos and Freya sho off in search of her freedom. You stand beside Mimir as you tell Kratos that it’s best for you to stay here too. You quickly glance over to Freyr.

“If that’s ok with you that is?” He moves a little closer before smiling down at you. “Sure, of course. As long as I get another free show.” You scowl. “Excuse me?” You cross your arms over your thin tunic. You should go pick up you pelt after this. He slides away, noticing the hulking shadow that was Kratos was now behind you. Axe in hand. “I meant the singing. Plus I was uh… I was only kidding. Of course you can stay here.” Kratos grumbled before looking down towards you. You glanced up at him with a small smile on your face. “Don’t worry. We’ll talk when you get back. I wouldn’t keep Freya waiting for long.” Mimir adds in, “Don’t worry brother. No funny business will be happening here.” You laugh a good hearty laugh. Kratos leaves as he and Freya make their way deeper into Vanaheim. Freyr turns his head to you. He smiles.

“Oh what, you think a beheaded former advisor can really stop me from getting into any trouble?” Your laughter calms down into a slight chuckle as you look up at Freyr. All he sees is your sparkling eyes staring up at him through thick and curved eyelashes. For some reason unknown to him he can’t look away. Mimir sputters in the background about how he could do some damage if he was thrown horns first. You put a finger on your lips in contemplation. And that’s all it took for Freyr to be transfixed by your full lips. Soft. He’s sure of himself. Your lips would be incredibly soft. You speak but he doesn’t hear you. It’s not until you’re heading to Brok and Lunda that he realizes you even said anything at all. He shouts at you to repeat yourself.

“I said ‘You can get into all the trouble you want, because you’re definitely not the type of trouble I’m into.’ Ya dummy.” And with that you’re finally next to Brok as he introduces you to Lunda. As that is happening Mimir is staring directly at Freyr as he watches the god stare at you from across the camp. “I wouldn’t think about that brother. Kratos has a soft spot for the lass. We all do. Plus, she’s mortal. Let her live a normal life with one of her own when all of this is over.” Freyr sighs as he turns back to the table. ��Are you always this much of a buzzkill?” And with that they come up with plans of attack against any and all Aesir troops in his home.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I’m here with chapter 6~. After rereading the latest chapter of The Pickpocket for the 50th time in a row I decided to finish up this chapter!

As you can tell there was a small timeskip at the beginning. Not a normal one. I still explained things but I did so quickly instead of trying to linger. Also… was that… flirting??? In my Minecraft Server?!???! By the way Reader wasn’t trying to flirt. She’s just a baddie and does it without even knowing. Trust me, you’ll see a chapter where she does try and flirt and it will not be like this. Lol.

Anyways thank you for reading, and say hello to my lovely readers. I will see y’all next chapter! Bye bye~.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist: @sumebuddy @sissontrinity123 @different4black @r6co @slaying69696969 @dijanur @frog-cultist @jamellemal @star-angel1 @mrsurrealism @ladysaribu @shirocchi13 @noxiemoon @fullmoonwolfer1 @forg1 @onix-a @silvergoldraeven @inky-weeaboo-weirdo14 @fandomcatchall @Imorg149 @doubledaredevil @screaming-potato @6demonica9 @einsvei @mad4hugs @oreocookie24 @lunaryasha @rustypotatospork @love-giselle @entityunbound @nixeustheclamity @majestichugs @blazingstarsblog @cheesewithasideofcheese @photos-fantasy-and-scifi @shycandykitty @photographykomiko @snoriander @lunamomo @rowanlovesmoonknight @fairytale202 @cbradio18 @fantasticcollectordefendor @coochie-crawler @booksandblanketnests @sun-bae @anything-scary @frida-oydna @couldyoutellmewhatsreal @damonsalavatore-best @tnnadia @dddraven @longshlong2 @crunchychicken1231 @multifangrell @actualhawkesworld @coralpositivityclassroomsoul @pugger775 @mr-trick @romanzpixxa-blog @violet2507 @bonsaijoons @zoleea-exultant

#Olden Times. Modern Thinking.#heimdall x reader #god of war ragnarok x reader #heimdall gow x reader #god of war x reader #gow reader insert

153 notes · View notes

anticomedygarden · 1 year ago

Text

can we give ourselves one more chance

Annabeth is having trouble adjusting after the giant war. What better way to attempt to handle her quickly deteriorating mental state than to get a dog?

title from 'under pressure' by queen

small tw: there is a semi-graphic panic attack starting at 'one hour earlier' and ending at the end of that section

also on ao3

this topic is really important to me. i hope y'all like it!

They build the shrine at the edge of the woods.

It's a simple design, just a fake stone sword stuck into the ground with the names of the demigods lost to the titan war. A similar one stands a few feet away for the giant war, but for some reason, Annabeth is inexplicably drawn to this one.

Objectively, she knows its placement is simply because it's an easily accessible spot while not being especially obvious; one can find it without searching, but they don't have to pass by it everyday. Emotionally, though, she can't help but see the symbolism. Light vs. dark, humanity vs. nature, society on the brink of unhindered chaos where the only barrier is the shrine. The only barrier is war. The barrier is Luke.

Annabeth isn't sure how she made it back here again, staring at the shrine, barely restraining herself from tracing Luke's name over and over until her fingers bleed with the weight of it. How close had they come to losing it all?

Now, it won't be long until the conch horn sounds, but she's not hungry. Just like yesterday. And the day before. And everyday since Tartarus.

She can't stomach the dining pavilion, anyway, not with Percy unable to eat anything substantial, either, despite the urgings of their friends, or to see the hole in the Hephaestus table where Leo should be. She can't bear to scrape more food into the fire and recite prayers to her mother only to be met with stony silence.

The conch horn sounds, and a warm body drops down next to hers. "Here again?"

It's become somewhat of a ritual at this point, Percy finding Annabeth here.

"I...don't know," she admits. He is the only one who gets to hear her say those words.

Sluggishly, he stretches his legs out in front of him as she leans against his side. "Me either."

They sit in silence for a bit.

Today, there are a few bouquets of flowers scattered around the shrines and some little trinkets. Someone has left a note that reads, We love you, Michael. Apollo cabin, most likely.

Percy asks her the same thing he's asked everyday since the end of the war.

"Any word from your mom?"

As usual, she shakes her head, and tries to ignore the ever present feeling of disappointment in her chest. "Your dad?"

Like the sea, Poseidon is less predictable. Some days - most days, honestly - the sea god doesn't communicate at all with his son. Some days, Percy is granted a whispered mind-to-mind conversation, tucked away in corners from Zeus' prying eyes and ears. Even fewer days, Poseidon comes directly to camp to see his son on the beach to make sure the bags under his eyes have gone down and he's still gaining back weight. More often than not, he is just as disappointed as Annabeth.

No matter what, it is still more than Annabeth has gotten from her mother.

Absolutely nothing.

"Yeah. He asked me how I was doing."

"And?" It is surely a lie.

"I said fine." Bingo. "What am I supposed to say, you know?"

She does know. Nobody wants to hear that the two most powerful demigods of their time are struggling, and the gods don't want to face their failures.

It isn't long before they change the subject.

"Mom thinks she found a school that will take me for senior year," Percy says, tone cautiously optimistic.

She beams. "That's great!" One step closer to NRU together. Now, Annabeth just has to broach the subject of boarding school in New York with her dad, not that she thinks he'd say no. No one really wants her in California.

He smiles sheepishly. "Yeah. It's called 'Alternate High School.' Apparently they specialize in kids with no other options." She almost starts talking about mortals and how stupid they are to not see how amazing he is, but he doesn't seem to care. "Whatever. I'm just happy they'll take me."

She throws an arm around her boyfriend's shoulders and kisses his jaw. "I can't wait."

They sit there for a bit longer, talking about nothing important, before it's time for campfire and then bed where they will both lay silently until morning without sleeping.

It starts like this.

Annabeth is dragging herself back to her dorm from Percy's apartment one day when she hears the unmistakable whine of a hellhound. Her fingers go straight for the drakon bone sword at her hip, and, before she knows it, she's turned around and slashed the great beast in half.

Just like that, it's gone. No fanfare; just a small shower of dust that coats the sidewalk, shimmering gold like cornflakes.

The mortals keep going as if nothing happened, and she supposes to them, nothing did happen. She knows she should keep going, too, or she'll miss curfew, but she can't get herself to move.

Instead, her sword tips our of her grasp, falling to the ground with a clatter. She didn't even give the dog a chance to do anything to her, just mercilessly cut it down, sent it down below to ruminate in that monster's body for the gods know how long. The sword may as well be her dagger, her hands Luke's as he kills himself, Percy's hands as he chokes Akhlys.

Annabeth falls to the ground with a sob, one thought circling in her mind.

I don't want to be a killer anymore.

Three days later, Annabeth throws her bag down on the Jackson's kitchen table and says, "I want a dog."

Percy pauses, a soapy bowl in his hands. "Okay...?" His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion.

"I already checked, and New York housing requires buildings to accept service animals. If they get picky about it, we can get the dog registered to you, but since I've been listing your apartment as my permanent address, it shouldn't be a problem. There's a Humane Society nearby. They spay and neuter and give all the shots for free-"

"Okay, okay, hold on," Percy interrupts, holding up a wet hand. "Not that I don't think this isn't a great idea, but is there a reason you've suddenly decided we need a dog?"

Annabeth shakes her head, because if she has to think about why, she'll have to think about everything else, and she doesn't want to think about everything else.

Of course, Percy sees right through her, and a second later, dry hands are cupping her face, a thumb tracing a tear she didn't know was there. "'Beth," he starts, "what's going on?"

She suddenly realizes that she's barely been holding it together the last three days, throwing herself into pet research and school work to distract from her fracturing mind, and gods, if one look from Percy doesn't unravel her completely.

"I just-" A sob breaks free from her throat, and several more follow. Tears cascade from her eyes like blood.

Like always, Percy is right there to press her face into his chest, picking up the pieces, staunching the flow, and all the other metaphors that had ever been used to describe a protector, and she could almost believe that neither of their bodies had ever been used to hurt, to kill, or to maim.

When the sobs finally taper off and the tears slow to a trickle, she manages to choke out, "We're supposed to be protectors."

He makes to pull back, but she digs her fingers into his shirt so she doesn't have to see the ever present bags under his eyes, mirrors of her own. With Sally practically force feeding them now that they're back in New York for the school year, she can't feel his ribs through his shirt anymore, but she knows that doesn't mean anything. They may not be living with constant reminders of what they've been through, but all that really means is they've found better distractions.

"What do you mean?"

She sniffles and burrows deeper into his chest. "We're supposed to protect people, but lately it just feels like all we're doing is killing things. I want to feel like I'm doing something good again."

One of Percy's hands comes up to stroke her hair. "You are so good. You do good things all the time, baby."

"I know," she says, though she becomes less sure everyday. "I still want a dog."

"Our dogs are in this room on both sides," the shelter worker, a young woman with coiled black hair, says, gesturing to the large open space to the left. "Their information packets should indicate everything you need to know about the dog. If you find one you want to have a one on one with, feel free to come up to the desk and ask."

Annabeth nods, attention already taken over by what can only be described as a warehouse floor of dog enclosures, each containing an adorable dog. She walks right in.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Percy asks as he allows her to pull him from cage to cage.

Annabeth isn't ashamed to admit that she researched dog breeds and took several personality tests to find which breed would best suit their lifestyle: highly trainable, active, protective, apartment friendly, good with young kids and, as they had just found out a few weeks ago, babies. However, she also knows that it's very difficult to predict the temperament of a rescue dog and even more difficult to find a purebred, not that pedigree is particularly important to her. "Ideally, a terrier or shepherd, but the most important things are trainability, activity level, and friendly with kids and babies." They stop in front of the first cage to see a little black and brown dog, not quite Yorkie looking but not really anything else looking either. Must be a mutt.

Percy holds his phone up to the information card to scan it through the translator app into Greek. "Bella. I am a spayed female Yorkshire terrier mix. Staff shelter think I am about 11 months old. I have been here for two weeks." Underneath that is a checklist of compatibility traits, color coded. Thank the gods. Annabeth looks at it while Percy attempts to pet Bella through the bars.

"Aww, babe, look," her boyfriend says, drawing her attention to the floor. Percy had somehow managed to reach the tiny dog who was splayed out on her back enjoying the treatment. "Do you wanna see her one-on-one?"

It absolutely breaks her but- "I don't think she'd be a good fit for us. She wouldn't be able to keep up, and under 'good with kids,' it says 'unsure.'"

Percy pouts a little but nods, and they move onto the next enclosure.

This one is a 2 year old medium sized black mutt, and again, it breaks her heart, but he's listed as bad with kids. Between Camp and Sally being pregnant, they just can't have that in the house.

They pass a few more enclosures, all amazing and adorable but just not right, before they get to a cage in the back corner with a white and brown dog sleeping on a cot. It's hard to tell how big the animal is because they're laying down, but a good estimate is medium to large.

As soon as they get to the cage, the dog stands up and trots over to the bars revealing a triangle shaped face, sickle ears, and a gorgeous off-white coat speckled with light brown that absolutely takes her breath away. Her original size estimate had been correct; the dog comes up to about her lower thigh. The fur is deep but not long; just imagining sinking her fingers into it makes her feel like she's getting a hug from Sally.

She crouches in front of the cage and jams her fingers through the bars, and the dog leans forward to sniff them. She holds her breath, and, a second later, the dog shoves they're face under her hand for pets, and her heart completely melts.

This dog better be good with kids because leaving them behind will break her.

Percy tugs on her shoulder, jarring her from the moment, and says, "Babe, look."

Following his index finger, the dog's bio reads, Luke. I am a neutered male Australian shepherd mix. Shelter staff think I am about 3 years old. I have been here for two months.

Luke.

Percy presses a kiss to her head before she even realizes she's crying.

She really needs to get a handle on that.

Gods, how did her life come to this? She's having some sort of mental breakdown/religious experience in a fucking animal shelter of all places because a dog has the same name as her dead friend.

Still holding on to her, Percy flags down a shelter worker. "What can you tell us about this dog?"

This shelter worker is another young woman, this time with straight green hair clutching a clipboard. She smiles sadly. "Luke's been with us for a while now. He's very active and is doing wonderfully with his training and is already potty trained." She stops there, fidgeting nervously.

"How did he get here?" Annabeth asks. It all sounds great, but the woman is clearly hiding something. She braces herself.

"Well, Luke is a second chance animal which means he was abandoned by his previous owner. That tends to make potential adopters nervous, but I can assure you that Luke is an amazing dog with a great temperament." She says the last part with conviction as if she's used to people doubting the temperament of second chance animals which, of course, she probably is.

Great. Now Annabeth is self identifying with a dog.

Percy pulls away from her then and reaches down to pet the dog who is staring up at Annabeth with wide brown eyes and a pink tongue lolling out of his mouth, somehow looking even cuter than before. He takes to Percy as fast as he took to Annabeth. "Do you know anything about the previous family?"

Do you know why anyone would do such a heartless thing as leaving their dog alone?

The woman shrugs, but Annabeth can see in her eyes the same anger she's feeling. "Unfortunately, we never actually met the previous owners, but there are a number of reasons people surrender their pets to shelters. Sometimes it's money problems, sometimes divorce, sometimes health issues, sometimes the previous owners die and the family can't take them in. Sometimes when people have kids, the pets don't get along with children or the children develop allergies. Occasionally, puppy mills and illegal breeders are busted, and the animals are sent here. You just never know with rescues what you're getting." It is clear from her words that the woman really cares about what she does, and Annabeth can't help but respect her. She knows from her research that shelter work is challenging and often depressing and discouraging, things Annabeth relates to hard.

A glance at Luke's chart tells her that he meets all their criteria down to activity level and protectiveness.

Percy looks up at her, and she nods. "We'd like to see him one on one if that's alright."

The woman looks absolutely incensed. "That's great!"

The one on one session only confirms what they already know, that Luke is the one they want. He runs right to them and climbs into their laps, alternating between licking them all over and demanding pets. His fur is exactly as heavenly as Annabeth imagined, maybe even more so. At some point, Percy steps out to call his mom because they can't adopt a dog when they're under 18.

It is around then that Annabeth learns the feeling of a dog licking peanut butter directly out of her hands is the best feeling in the world. She never wants the moment to end.

An hour later, they're back home at the Jackson's apartment following Luke around as he explores every inch of the place. He's hesitant at first, careful to not leave the general proximity of people but eager to get into places even Annabeth can't. (And won't. No human should have to walk through Percy's maze of dirty clothes.)

Eventually, they make it back into the living room, Paul relaxing on the couch and Sally doing something in the kitchen. He must have come in while they were following Luke around.

"Hey, boy." Paul puts his hand out, and the dog runs over to sniff him. "So this is the new family member?"

Annabeth nods, and she and Percy sit on the floor to get out dog toys. "His name's Luke. He's a 3 year old Australian shepherd mix."

Paul smiles as he scratches Luke's ears. "Well, he's very sweet. I think you two picked a good one."

Annabeth beams, and it is then she realizes that she hasn't thought about Tartarus or her parents or the wars or even school since she first saw Luke. "Me, too."

Annabeth never thought a dog could change her life so much, but laying on the ground in Central Park under the stars, a hand trailing through Luke's fur, she knows she could never go back to before.

See, she's laying like this, tracing constellations, technically illegally, because of a goddamn peacock.

One hour earlier

They are just taking a walk. Annabeth is just trying to take her dog on his nighttime walk. Why does she have to ruin everything? Why does she have to insert herself into every moment of their lives? It isn't enough that her actual mother refuses to acknowledge her existence, but Hera has to monitor her like fucking Big Brother?

Annabeth buries her free hand in her hair and tugs, near tears. Of course, senior year has just been too easy, apparently. Nevermind the all nighters and scholarship essays, the bullies and the nights she almost quits because it's too damn much.

Luke whines and pulls on his leash in an attempt to move Annabeth forward, but her eyes refuse to leave the blue and green bird in front of her. Then, the dog gives a particularly hard tug, and she stumbles forward, forced to either keep moving or get trampled in the throngs of people somehow still out at 9:30 at night in New York City.

Her eyes dart around to the people around her, sure that one of them is the marriage goddess in disguise. Why else would there be a peacock here?

Too distracted to notice where Luke is leading her, they somehow end up in Central Park which Annabeth only realizes when there is no one else to pick apart with her eyes. That still doesn't let her off the hook, though. Hera could be hiding as a bug or a bird or a fucking gust of wind for all she knows.

“Where are you?" she screams. "What do you want from me?"

She doesn't care that anyone could find her here, that she could get arrested. If Hera is around, Annabeth might as well be fucking dead. She should've known better than to try and escape the brutality of her world; did she really think a dog could save her?

"I don't want you here!" she yells. Then, falling to the ground, ass smarting in a way she'll certainly feel tomorrow, hands hitting the dirt with a thud, she whispers, "I don't want you here."

I don't want you here I don't want you here I don't want you hereidontwantyouhereidontwantyouhereIDONTWANT-

Something cold and wet presses into her palm, and she draws back involuntarily. It then pushes into her neck, her face, then over and over again it hits her cheeks. Something incredibly soft hits her right hand, and she feels something else wap her in the thigh.

Luke, she thinks, and for once, the name doesn't give her more anxiety. The dog.

Luke continues to lick her face as his tail thumps against her leg. Slowly, very slowly, she comes back to herself. The anxiety is still there, the fear that Hera is spying on her even as there's no one around, but other possibilities trickle in. Maybe it’s someone’s pet, or it’s one of the ones from the zoo that they let wander around.

And she is cold. Always freezing after a panic attack.

But Luke helps with that, too. He stays in her lap, warming her with his fur and body heat until she gains the strength to pull her phone out of her pocket and text Percy to come get her. She would send an Iris message, but there's no rainbows here at this time.

Suddenly, it hits her. Luke can sense gods. They'd found out after an accidental run in with Demeter. If Hera, or any other mythical being for that matter, were around, Luke would have alerted her.

She snorts, then giggles, and it turns into a full on laughing fit, the kind that makes her stomach hurt and tears fall freely down her face. Maybe the tears are from before. Maybe they never stopped. Maybe she's been crying the whole damn time. It's all so fucking pointless.

She falls backward into the grass, Luke curling next to her, and stares up at the stars as they wait for her boyfriend to come get them because if she moves she'll surely disintegrate like a freshly-slain monster.

The next time she's especially thankful to have a dog in her life is during the summer between senior year and the start of college when she and Percy are staying at Camp.

Some time in the night, Percy startles awake with a shout, pulling Annabeth from her own fitfull slumber. Before she can even sit up, Luke is on top of him and licking his face, whining as he paws at his neck. She watches as the terror on hier boyfriend's face drains into confusion and finally weary anxiety, and he doesn't even have time to reach panic.

When his breathing slows and Luke settles on his chest, Percy turns his head to her and says, "I'm so glad we got a dog."

She smiles. "Me, too."

Annabeth winds through the streets of New Rome, black dog leash clutched in one hand. Luke cuts a handsome figure in front of her in his little service dog vest, drawing stares and mournful looks as people realize they can't pet him.

They'd started training him as a psychiatric service animal pretty soon after adopting him, so she is pretty used to it at this point, but it never fails to amuse her.

Finally, they make it to the restaurant, some Italian place Thalia picked out. The dark haired girl spots her quickly and waves her over.

"Hey," Thalia greets. She's seated at one of the outdoor tables with a big green umbrella over it, tipping their whole area into pleasant shade.

"Hey, it's so great to see you," she says, partially unbelieving that those words just came out of her mouth in a truthful manner and not as an overly polite greeting to someone she hopes she'd never have to see again. Like her stepmom, for instance.

"You, too."

Annabeth picks the menu up off the wiry black table, pointedly not wondering how much longer she'll be able to look at her oldest friend without Thalia looking like her youngest friend. "How have you been?"

Thalia swirls her straw in her water. "Pretty good," she answers, and seems to mean it. "We followed a monster all the way up into northern Canada last month and didn't even kill it."

Annabeth laughs. "Really?"

Thalia rolls her eyes. "You know how Lady Artemis is. If it's not hurting anyone or damaging the ecosystem, she says leave it."

After the year Annabeth's had, it's incredibly refreshing to hear, though she can't help but feel a little bitter that Artemis can talk to the hunters but Athena can't say one word to her daughter (the daughter that saved her ass). "So you went up there for nothing?"

Thalia slings a leather clad arm over the back of her chair, metal bracelets clinking. "I wouldn't say nothing. We saw trees older than the gods and thicker than Ares." Annabeth's nose scrunches at the comparison, and Thalia laughs. "We saw millions of stars every night. Do you know what the Milky Way looks like?"

Annabeth shakes her head, knowing only what she's seen in books. Light pollution truly is a bitch.

"Gods, it's so beautiful, you can't even breathe. There's so many colors. It's like staring into the face of - well, not a god, because that kinda sucks, but something amazing." Thalia gestures vaguely, and Annabeth is briefly blinded by the idea. Seeing something greater than the things she has already seen. Standing under a sky unburdened by human defacement and finding something so beautiful the Ancient Greeks made an entire myth for the creation of it. Her heart seizes, and she yearns. "Seriously, I'll show you sometime."

Suddenly, Annabeth isn't in New Rome anymore but a town square somewhere along the Eastern seaboard. 12 year old Thalia is telling her about her cross country travels, little Annabeth hanging onto every word, and Thalia laughs and says, "I'll show you sometime."

Back in the present, Luke the dog rests his head on her thigh and barks, sensing her increased uneasiness. She pets his fuzzy head. "It's alright, bud."

A waiter comes by and takes their orders, Thalia ordering a pizza because her and Percy really are exactly alike, and Annabeth ordering spaghetti because seeing Thalia makes her miss being seven.

Thalia leans in. "So what prompted you to get a dog?"

Annabeth gulps and figures there's really no reason to lie to Thalia. "PTSD. Guilt. Nightmares. Pick a reason, honestly."

Thalia nods in understanding. "Some of the girls have service animals, especially the newer ones. They really do help."

Annabeth assumes by 'have service animals', Thalia doesn't mean legally. "Yeah, it's amazing." Looking down at Luke, she can't believe how much he's helped her, and Percy, too. They rarely wake up screaming anymore, and when they do, he is right there to take care of them. "He can sense when we're panicking now, or even just when anxiety spikes."

She rubs his ears and leans down. "Can't you, boy? Yeah!" His tail thumps against the ground in excitement.

She sits back to see Thalia with a wide grin on her face. "What?"

Thalia points at the dog. "You know, it's kinda like you two adopted a kid together."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "I highly doubt a kid would be able to help me through a PTSD induced flashback."

"Whatever. You and Jackson have a kid."

Annabeth's retort is lost as the waiter comes by to deposit their food.

As they chew, Thalia looks at Luke again.."What breed did you say he is?"

"The Humane Society said he's an Australian shepherd mix," Annabeth says, twirling a noodle onto her fork.

Thalia snorts. "There is no way in hell there's no pitbull in there."

Annabeth brightens. She'd actually come across this in her research. "Sometimes, shelters don't list traditionally aggressive breeds because they're harder to adopt out, and because if they become banned - which has happened before - the dogs can't be taken away. It's the same principle as big dogs being cheaper than small dogs."

Thalia stares for a moment, then looks furious. "I really hate mortals."

"Yeah, but at least some of them are fighting." It's as good a reason as any to hold onto hope.

They lapse into silence a bit as they eat their food.

"Luke." His head snaps up, and Annabeth feeds him a piece of bread.

Thalia makes some odd kind of aborted snort noise. "You named him Luke?"

Annabeth's eyes widen. She thought for sure she told her friend her dog's name before. "That was his name at the shelter."

"Good." Thalia visibly relaxes. "Wow, that's practically meant to be."

Annabeth isn't ready to brush off her reaction just yet. "Why would it be so bad if I named him Luke?" Obviously, she never would've done it herself, but she wants to know why Thalia is so horrified.

Thalia heaves a sign and sets down her pizza. "During the Titan war, I was constantly worried you were building him up in your head, remembering those two weeks as bigger than they actually were." Annabeth opens her mouth, but Thalia holds up a hand. "You were seven; I wouldn't have blamed you. I was just always afraid you would think of him as this great, amazing guy when in reality, he was...just a guy."

Annabeth's mouth gapes slightly. "Were you afraid I would join his side?"

Thalia's eyes widen. "No, I just didn't want you to start to think of him as a martyr. He was just a guy who fell to the wrong side."

Annabeth doesn't entirely understand what she's getting at, but she nods anyway, and they continue to eat and chat.

When it's time to leave, though, Thalia puts her hands on Annabeth's shoulders and says, "We only spent two weeks together on the run. They were two very important weeks, and you were very young, but please don't make us out to be more than we were." When she sees the dawning pain in Annabeth's eyes, she says, "I love you, and I will always love you, and so would Luke if he were still here. But we made mistakes. We let you down. Don't forget that, okay?"

Annabeth nods, still not entirely what the point is. She doesn't think she's been building them up in her head. Every Greek demigod in the US knows who Luke is and what he did; it would be impossible for her to forget.

But maybe she sometimes forgets what he did to her.

"I love you," Thalia says one last time. "See you soon."

"I love you, too."

Two months later, over a year after the giant war, Athena finally decides to speak to her daughter.

The wisdom goddess finds her on the beach of Camp Halfblood snuggled up next to Percy with Luke at their feet. It's winter break, and she couldn't be happier.

'Couldn't' being the key word. She could definitely be more happy now.

"Annabeth," she says. There is no tone, nothing to give a clue as to the reason of her visit. Luke starts barking, warning her that this isn't a nice visit.

"Mother?" she asks. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I not have a nice conversation with my daughter?" She raises a brown eyebrow, and Annabeth, frankly, has had it.

"A year ago, maybe. What do you want?" Next to her, Percy sucks in a breath, and Luke continues to bark.

"I'll let that slide because it's been so long, but you will not speak to me like that again," Athena says, dark brown hair lifting in the sea breeze.

A year ago, Annabeth might have considered listening, but a year ago, she still had hope that one of her parents might love her. "I'll speak to you however I damn please."

Percy grips her arm tighter as if he wouldn't say the exact same thing. "Annabeth, maybe you should-"

"I don't remember asking for your input, sea spawn," Athena hisses. "I came here to have a mature conversation with my daughter, but it seems I came in vain."

The sand tickles Annabeth's bare feet when she stands. "I'm the immature one? You're the one who ignored her daughter for a year after she saved your ass from insanity." Behind her, Percy stands as well, shushing Luke.

"As soon as you're ready to speak with me like an adult, you can have your time with me."

Words surge behind her shut mouth, something about how she was and is still a child despite what Olympus seems to believe, or that her "time with Athena" is about a year too late and she doesn't really care anymore. "Fine."

Athena clasps her hands in front of her. "You must stop this outlandish behaviour."

"What behaviour?"

"Concerning the Castellan boy."

"What-you mean my dog?"

Athena sighs. "I mean your insistence on honoring him in everything you do. I could tolerate it when the war was still recent in mortal terms, but this is getting a bit ridiculous, don't you think?"

Stupidly, Annabeth can still only think of the dog, though she's sure Athena is referencing other instances. "I didn't name him."

The goddess sighs again. "I am not talking about the dog, though that is an unfortunate coincidence. I am talking about the shrine, and the statue you plan to build, and your continued prayers for his swift and easy path through the underworld even two years after the fact."

Annabeth waits for more, but apparently that's it. "The shrine honors all of the demigods who died in the wars, and the statue is a reminder. I'm not sure how you think my prayers are a negative, but it's nice to know you've been getting them all this time."

Athena's eyes flash. "You say the shrine is for everyone, yet you only seem to pay attention to the one name, and I for one, don't need a reminder, not with this one's-" she points to Percy "-demands."

This argument is clearly going nowhere. "Aren't you the goddess of wisdom? Don't you know 'those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it'?"

"Yes, but you are not remembering the past. You are turning your traitor friend into a martyr."

Again, Annabeth might have fallen for her words had it not been for her conversation with Thalia. "You only think that because he pointed out the gods' flaws, flaws you are doing a pretty fucking good job of showing off right now. I know Luke wasn't a martyr, but the more you act like this, the more you make him into one."

Athena steps closer to Annabeth, close enough she can see the goddess' individual eyelashes. "Listen, girl-"

Abruptly, a wave crashes to shore, loud and disruptive, throwing them into ankle deep water. Athena jumps backward. "Stop this! You cannot scare me with water."

Annabeth turns to Percy whose eyes are wide. "That wasn't me!"

Another wave, bigger than the first, hits the sand, and realization dawns on Athena's face alongside horror. She turns to the sea. "Poseidon, you dare put my own daughter under your protection?"

This time, a slower wave climbs up the beach and leaves, revealing a bunch of seashells arranged to spell the word 'YES'. In a flash, the dark haired goddess is replaced by an owl and flaps away, up and up and up until Annabeth can't see her anymore.

She turns to Percy who looks just as bewildered as her.

He clears his throat. "Uh, what the fuck?"

Amnabeth shrugs. " I have no idea."

They sit back down as they had been before Athena dropped in, snuggled together with Luke at their feet.

She should probably be sad and maybe even offended that Athena doesn't believe in her anymore, but she just can't bring herself to care. She had made peace with the fact that she would never have the picture perfect parents that love her, or even really like her, a long time ago. She was building up to the life she deserved, and carving out little pieces of that life in the people she loves was good enough for now. She was only 19; she had a lot of life left, and she still had a lot of healing. This wasn't the end of anything.

Good riddance. She has her family.

And, as night turns into day, they watch the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean, clutched in each other's arms, ready for whatever comes next.

everything in here is extensively researched or i know from my own experiences. adoption and dogs are really close to my heart. i'd link the sources but there's so many that i've gathered for essays, presentations, etc., throughout so many years that it would take me hours. if you spot something i got wrong, please let me know!

edit 11-19-23: I changed all the mentions of Luke being an ESA to a service animal or service animal in training because being an ESA basically just means someone paid for the certification and has a doctor's note, and they are not actually trained for anything. In this case, Luke is a psychiatric service dog trained for things like deep pressure therapy, buffering, room searching, etc., because he helps his owners with PTSD. Check abetternameneeded 's comments on ao3 for more info, and/or these two articles: https://www.ada.gov/topics/service-animals/ https://www.servicedogcertifications.org/psychiatric-service-dog/#psd-tasks

63 notes · View notes

jyoungbloodvo · 4 months ago

Text

(For previous parts of the PLAYTIME RISING AU, click here!)

PLAYTIME RISING

Character Relations (Friendly)

On his trek across the factory, Frank will encounter many strange characters, many I'm sure you're all familiar with. Here, we'll go over the allies that Frank will make, and how he is towards them.

Poppy Playtime

The first living toy Frank meets that isn't actively gunning for his death, Poppy Playtime was locked in her shrine for 10 years, being released as soon as Frank encounters it.

Unlike the original Player, who is actively seeking an exit, Frank wants to stay, as he now wants to figure out just what's going on. This is a major benefit to Poppy, as she now has someone that she knows can help her without abandoning her.

Frank finds Poppy to be rather creepy, granted given her bloodshot eyes and the fact that she's a doll. Her big eyes remind him of the Slaphappy Slappy toyline (Poppy grimaces at every mention of it). Frank agrees to help her, but not (at first) out of the kindness of his heart, but rather to get closer to the truth of Playtime Co.

Though, as time goes on, Frank starts to see Poppy as more and more of a friend. There's always some light in the darkest of places.

"Y'know, I've called girls 'doll' before, but this is ridiculous..."

Kissy Missy

The female counterpart to Huggy Wuggy, Kissy Missy is, unlike him, docile and on Poppy's side. Frank didn't think that way at first. Upon seeing her from behind a closed gate, he had a metal pipe at the ready. They stared down at each other for what seemed like forever. It wasn't until she opened the other gate, the one that Frank needed, that he realized she was good.

The next time Frank would see her would be in Playcare, giving him yet another fright as it was pitch black, making it seem as though she was another Huggy. Though, tensions died down as soon as Poppy spoke.

Frank finds Kissy to be somewhat endearing, though her silence and unblinking eyes never fail to make him slightly uneasy. But, given how she's a giant with surprising strength, knowing she's on his side brings him great relief.

"She has those big lips, but never says anythin'. Though, if she sounds like that cutout...I'd understand."

Ollie

Poppy's informant, only heard through a toy phone...or is he the phone? Regardless, Ollie helps Frank throughout the Playcare area, as he knows pretty much everything about it.

Even though Ollie has done nothing but help Frank out, there are moments and mannerisms of his that make Frank suspicious. For example, his very upbeat personality. Only a psychopath could be this cheery in a situation like this.

Never seeing Ollie is another point of suspicion for Frank. He could be anyone, even that...thing with the claw. But Frank has to trust him, for now at least. Lest he get caught by Playcare's guardian.

"There's no way that's a kid...right?"

Dogday

The last of the Smiling Critters, Frank finds him in...not the best shape. Dogday was ripped in half by Catnap for being, in his eyes, a heretic, and was then strung up in the Playhouse "Prison".

Here, a choice has to be made, and quickly, or Dogday dies. If your camera is charged enough, you can use its flash to deter the mini critters that would have ended Dogday's life. It is then that Frank can carry him to somewhere safe...while being chased by mini critters, of course.

If Dogday survives, he is grateful for Frank's help, and will assist in any way he can. His bitter and somber persona slowly fades away, becoming more and more happy and upbeat.

Frank was too old for toys when the Smiling Critters were released to toy stores...but, Dogday was always his favorite.

"What? Can't a guy enjoy stuffed animals?"

#poppy playtime #dead rising #poppy playtime au #dead rising au #playtime rising au #frank west #poppy #kissy missy #ollie #dogday #smiling critters

11 notes · View notes

loversdelusions · 2 years ago

Note

Hi I love to see what you think Yandere kirishima be like :) Like kirishima would he be the type to kidnapped or is he the type to Just stalks her and collects every information to a wall or something or does he do both ?

⋆✸ Yandere Kirishima: Habits and Rituals ✸⋆

Kirishima - usually - is the ideal partner. He's sweet, loyal, fiercely strong and passionate. He's a great guy. Normally.

When he's infatuated, though, he's not the same person. He's big, towering over you, and makes you tiny by comparison. He enjoyed it, too. Made him feel powerful, how small you were in comparison, and how you'd look under him. He would use this to his advantage, leaning over you and trapping you in his arms, grabbing you and moving you around as he wished, like his little rag doll.

In all honesty in his lovesick state, he's a terror. He's not the type to make a shrine, or place photos around the wall of his room. He has a few treasured photographs of you he keeps with him at all times, to look at, satisfy his pleasures to, and remind himself of his focus.

Kirishima is a giant passive-aggressive bully.

No one understands what you're talking about, the pushing around, the small pinches to your thighs, hands skimming the side of your skin going up and underneath your skirt while you tried to move away without angering him. What could you do about it, anyways? No one believes you anyway. You're talking about Red Riot, he would never do such things. Why are you trying to muddy his name?

It continued to be like that, his subtle touches, sometimes rough and scarring, left behind scratches at times and red sore makes as if to remind you where he's been. He's a jealous guy, though it seems more internal than anything. Unlike Bakugou who will hate everything you touch and will be watching from afar, or Izuku, whose idea of 'take out the garbage is a bit too liberal when it comes to people and objects; Kirishima does not wait away or shy from your attention. He runs head-on and tells everyone that he is in love with you.

The peer pressure will not end. "Give him a chance,"

"Don't break the guy's heart,"

"It's Kirishima, no way you're gonna reject him right? He's been your friend since the beginning of our first year!"

His other stalker behaviour is scrapbooking whatever little polaroids he likes to snap of you, (polaroids on purpose for the aesthetic) as well as whatever remind him of you. A daisy he found, little heart sprinkles he found in the store that made him think of you, whatever little aesthetic things he likes and comforts him as if you were there to do it yourself. He has both sides of cruelty and the gentle-handed approach, and which one he used depends on the impulses he gets the moment you happen to be in his vision.

At times you'd get whiplash by the sudden gentlemanly act he has, holding your stuff for you, getting you little trinkets like a tiny gremlin, cute little animal candles is something he will definitely give you and for no apparent reason. It becomes very apparent he is going through it, his mind is bouncing from wall to wall flipping through moods and behaviours like play cards yet no matter how many times he pulls a card he is always the joker.

He doesn't think it through. When asked, if you turn to him with wide teary eyes and ask him why he was doing this he'd be very confused. He is aware what he's doing is a crime, but it does not particularly register to him that he might be considered a criminal. Unlike the others, whose forms of denial can consist of fake acceptance and/or severe delusion, Kirishima is hurt by the insinuation that he is terrorizing you, and the gaslighting may begin.

Was he that bad? He was so sorry if you felt that way, so upset that he was not being good to you as he wanted, or that he was simply playing, didn't mean to hurt you, and the big wide red eyes turning to you with apologies falling from his lips, but his eyes moving to yours— and if you soften...

Kiss.

He really wants you, no matter what, you know. He'll be the perfect guy, you just gotta accept it, and let him surround you with his love. It really doesn't come to his mind that accepting his love also means accepting his fury.

Kidnapping is not exactly his style. He'd much rather pressure you into his arms, it makes it easier to convince himself it was you who'd accepted him without his interference. He finds it much more pleasurable when he can shower you with love and attention in front of others in favour of accosting you at later times. The secrecy, the lying and toying with the public images of both of you makes him high with the power, all the subtlety it takes when he was considered too airheaded to do all those things boosts his self-image to a level unwarranted. Which is why he has no problem knowing you'll be his.

You can't out-manoeuvre him. But you're lucky he loves you, and you should care about remaining in his good graces otherwise his teasing smiles and cocky grins will turn into cruel smirks and sadistic touches.

Don't test him. You won't like the hardened shell he'll erect to push your limits.

223 notes · View notes

rawliverandgoronspice · 1 year ago

Note

I absolutely love your analysis of the gerudo and Ganondorf because they put into words what bothers me about how TOTK portrays Ganondorf. That being they remove his agency as a character in favor of having some great evil against the good guys.

[Major story spoilers ahead for the end of the game]

At the end of the game, when you’ve defeated Ganondorf, he swallows the secret stone and becomes a dragon, like Zelda, fully knowing the consequences of what happens when that happens. And it’s just kinda left me with a bitter taste in my mouth? In the context of the story it makes sense, he’s portrayed as a egomaniac who just wants to destroy Hyrule. But compared to other versions of him, this one just feels more openly biased against him and the gerudo, with no reason or justification other than “he’s evil, hate him.” As far as I can tell… They never really show us that he’s done anything horrible or deserving of being feared before the show of fealty cutscene, other than not submit to Hyrule, attack them once, and generally have bad vibes. It feels forced how much they want us to hate him and the people who follow him. I’m not saying character in video games always have to be nuanced or complex but comparing like, Wind Waker Ganondorf next to TOTK Ganondorf…. 🙃 Waste of an excellent design imo.

Heyyy sorry for being a billion years late with this ask!! I was busy finishing the game!!! among other things!!! Thank you so much for your kind words, I'm super happy it resonated with you in that way!

I mean, the whole draconification plot beat doesn't really work for me. Like yeah, sure it's sad that Zelda is now a giant dragon and it's cool to have her soaring above your head while you have no idea where she actually is (a situation that isn't nearly tapped into enough in the narrative imo, like it gets obvious way too fast if you happen upon the wrong memory, etc), and I actually think the whole sequence of you removing the Master Sword from her head was the best scene in the entire game in terms of mood and emotions --even THOUGH it would have been so much better with a stronger story and stronger stakes-- BUT. How does that build up thematically?

I think what doesn't work for the Zelda side of this plot point (I'll get to Ganon next) is that... she doesn't make that choice. It's not like she's being tempted by an easy way out and decides to sacrifice herself for the sake of Hyrule or Link or whoever: she has no choice in the matter. Her powers activate (?? somehow? once and never again also, talk about dropped plot threads), she finds herself in the past, is the passive witness to a bunch of shit that only tangientially relates to her --it's like she's visiting estranged family in a foreign country and watch their drama awkwardly before being dragged into it against her will even though she was just trying to renew her passport and get back home (if there had been any callback to her relationship with her father it would have landed better, but it's just completely ignored so vOv). Then her relatives all die or corrupt or something, and she still can't get back home. What is she meant to do besides draconify? Grow old and die in the past? What would that accomplish?? Her adventures in the past are just basically about solving a shrine puzzle with a particularly weird solution --but the game treats it like a huge sacrifice when it's basically her only way out, and she lost absolutely nothing making that sacrifice (and then she... cries about the weird family drama? sure. Honestly I think it would have worked better if the tears were Rauru's, it's his bullshit everyone is dealing with right? He's the one who feels broken and aggrieved by the whole thing.)

So, if we ignore the draconification precedent builds up to zero thing thematically beyond cheap drama that reveals nothing about neither the characters nor the world, I think Ganondorf's case is a little more compelling because he does make a choice here: dying as he tries to achieve his weird lofty goals (and fail), or postpone his victory eternally by sacrificing his objectives but reject death and defeat --while also barring himself from victory. In a better crafted story, this could be utterly excellent and it feels very Ganondorf to me. BUT, my beef with that plot beat isn't that he chooses the second option, making him kinda active for the first time in the entire game (and makes an appropriate hideous smile: *loved* this second one, the first one didn't land for me but this one really captures the ecstatic insanity and transcendance and desperate madness of the act --I have nothing against Ganondorf offputting smiles and cackles when they feel earned, and the Sonia one just... doesn't to me, it just feels like weird rigging and mesh deformation choices getting out of control).

My problem is that his existence as a dragon contradicts everything we knew about dragons before --both for him and for Zelda. I thought the big issue with draconification was that you'd lose yourself to the act entirely, and would become this sort of organic landmark of infinite power and eternal life but without will to act on your precedent goals and understanding of yourself. But the second the big man becomes an evil dragon, suddenly Zelda zips in to the rescue (apparently remembering who you are? understanding she's meant to fight Ganondorf? I mean, this kind of works emotionally as a climactic ending and the power of love or whatever, again it would have worked better in a better story), and Ganondorf is still very much into destroying the world as well as you and Zelda.

Also, he's very definitively mortal (and he has the stone on his head again? And so if you destroy it you destroy his immortality? why???)

So... What I dislike here is the suggestion that he was somehow so evil and rotten and bad that all of these rare moments of interesting worldbuilding and ambivalence gets completely swallowed in the bossfight logic, making his choice (and Zelda's) completely meaningless in retrospect.

also: let Zelda remain a dragon you cowards, that way Hyrule gets any sort of chance to escape and reimagine its horrying eternal monarchy instead of re-establishing it even harder than before!!!

#totk #totk spoilers #totk critical #asks #tloz #zelda #ganondorf #any change to the statut quo emotionally is so unbearable to this game's writing it's so weird #the dragon thing is a cool idea but I'm not sure it should have involved zelda tbh #if it had been rauru's thing while mineru held ganondorf in place it would have worked better in my opinion #I feel like this leads to much better character arcs and make mineru more of a character #and someone we could connect to much more than rauru #something

62 notes · View notes

yourcrazyboyokris · 6 months ago

Text

The Artificer

Ever since that day, your purpose has been clear. You must kill them all. All of them. And you won’t stop there. You will kill their leader as well. Countless lives have been taken by your hands, but they know what they’ve done. They know they deserve it after what they did to your children. They were everything and they took them away from you. And after years of death, you’ve killed it. The leader. You rip the mask off it’s corpse and wear it. The crowd of murderers goes silent. You are in control now. Nobody can stop you. You start a rampage, picking up and throwing the multiple spears and grenades and give them all the torture they’ve made you go through. The crowd screams as they trample each other to escape justice, but you got as many as you can. Strangely, you feel as if you are trapped, but you ignore that feeling.

The battle made you tired, so you sit on its throne and stab its drone until it becomes a mangled mess of wires. You sit down, and suddenly, you realize something. You made it your life goal to be at the top, but now that you are there… is there anything left…? And most of all, if your children were to see you now, what would they see? You are not the same slugcat you were years ago. You’re a monster. You killed them all. Would your pups even want this…? They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t even recognize you as a mother. You cup your paws to your face and cry. Is this your fate? To sit on the throne of a fallen king as you sob over lost memories? You can’t do that. There has to be a way out. You remember what that strange, floating, and glowing black and yellow being said atop that high tower two cycles ago.

“An unrewarding battle awaits, culminating in a path of no return.

A perpetuity of struggles begetting more of the same.

Find a way out, if you still can.”

It said you needed to find a way out. It may be a stretch, but you need to do this. You step outside while wearing the mask and go to the toll you saw upon entering the dome. The scavengers turn and freeze, petrified with a pleading look. You don’t care. You kill them all and check until you find the one with the most energy around it, and leave to look for a path to end your cycles.

It’s been so long and you have looked everywhere. The silence throughout your journey to explore has felt horrible. Sure, you weren’t being nearly killed on sight, but the silence haunts you with the side affect of thought, thinking of what could’ve been, thinking of you having a nice meal with your children, playing with your children, your children… the terrified looks of your children as they look at you now… your children… your…

You finally found something that might lead somewhere. A giant drill leading down into the earth. You slide down, grasping the corpse in your other paw until you reach the bottom, a dark, open space. An odd liquid drips from the ceiling. Touching it makes your skin feel a burning sensation. You begin walking, and the liquid you saw seems to become more frequent, and you see large amounts of it reflecting gold light onto the floor and walls. Collapsed structures and monuments are spread around corridors, odd beings wearing masks with an X symbol on the foreheads, torches that seem in perfect condition, and even a shrine. You continue until you come across large, floating beings with black, draping cape-like robes that seem to disappear into nothing the further down the threads go. They have black, rectangular heads with the same X symbol you saw before right on the center of them. You grasp the corpse of the scavenger, still feeling the strong energy, and slowly walk past the beings. Four arms stick out from the robes, seemingly made of pearls that sway from side to side as the beings move their arms in patterns that make you feel dizzy, but nothing happens. You enter the pipe they seem to be guarding.

Before you know it, you come across a giant sea of the odd fluid. Gold intensely reflects onto the walls as the sea ripples. Something tells you that you found a way out. Cautiously, you dip your paw into the fluid to see if it burns, but it doesn’t. You let go of the scavenger corpse and the fluid suddenly burns like it did back there. The grab the scavenger and look into the sea, knowing there’s no way but down. You jump, corpse in hand, and dive into the sea. It shifts between warm and cold like a circle. The cold oddly gives you visions of intense snow, and the warm gives you visions of civilization, alternating between the two randomly, but you have no time to figure that out. You start to swim down, but something makes you let go of the scavenger. Your whole body starts to sting uncomfortably, but it’s manageable. With no other choice, you continue to go down.

You go down until you can see into a void, and not just gold. The void makes you feel like a grain of sand in the garbage wastes. For the first time, you don’t feel threatening. You feel small. In the void, odd and large white worm-like figures swim hastily around. You swim down more. The swarm of worms is like chaos. It feels like they dong know you are there, and they are just moving at high speeds. You find your body being tossed around and pushed like garbage as you swim further down. At last, you make it out of the swarm and swim further. Suddenly, a bright light gets brighter and brighter behind you. You turn around and are face to face with the worm. The odd head at the end of its body seems to examine you, as if it can look into your mind. Suddenly, it’s eyes squint almost as if in disapproval, and it simply swims back up, intentionally or not, knocking you aside in the process.

You swim further and further until the lights of the worms starts to dim. Suddenly, an overwhelming sensation of burning overcomes your body. You frantically swim down, staring into the void as the pain becomes unbearable. You feel parts of your own body dissolving into golden string, before disappearing into the void. You feel yourself crying because of the anguish, but your tears instantly dissolve. You can’t feel your legs anymore, so you move your back back and forth to try to swim better.

In the darkness, you suddenly see two lights. One green and one blue. It almost looks like… oh. O- oh my… you cry more intensely, but not because of the pain. You swim as fast as you can until you see their figures. Two small slugcats with dark eyes and small noses. They turn around and see you as you float face to face with them. You don’t know what to say. You expect them to look afraid, but… they… they don’t. Their softly glowing figures float to you and you shakily wrap your arms around them. They wrap their arms around you as well. After all the horrible things you’ve done, after all the suffering you caused, they forgive you. As your body burns away, for the first time since they died, you finally feel… happy. As you continue to hug them as strong as you can, you manage to stutter out seven words.

"I- I’m so s- sorry… Th- thank you… for everything."

Your body dissolves away, but you don’t feel sad. You die in the comforting silence of the void and the warm embrace of your lost children.

#Artificer #Artificer rw #rw artificer #rw arti #rw slugpup #rw slugcat #rw slugpups #short story #rain world #god I love this game so much #This campaign is my favorite in terms of it’s story and I am currently sobbing while writing this and my cat is concerned #I wrote this after discovering Artificer can “ascend”#artificer slugcat #artificer spoilers #scugs #rain world artificer #rw

11 notes · View notes

rippleclan · 11 months ago

Text

RippleClan: Moon 11

Parsley attends the Gathering (under Fennelspot’s observation).

[Image ID: Parsley and Fennelspot sit below a large brown stone, where Autumnstar, Mistlestar, Gorgestar, Sanderlingstar, and Downstar sit. Under Downstar, it says - CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. Oilstripe and Puddlespeckle are in the far back while Scrubmask is standing to the side. Parsley says “I’ll tell ya, Mr. Fennelspot… your Clans are strange.” Below her, it says + CONDITION UPGRADE: INFECTED.]

“You really take this walk every moon?” Parsley groaned as she walked alongside Fennelspot in the RippleClan line-up. Downstar, fully recovered from the strain of birth, led the small Gathering patrol along the border between SlugClan and WheatClan. The AshClan delegation, which had more cats than Parsley had ever seen in one place, wandered ahead. Its members occasionally glanced back at RippleClan’s smalls numbers; Downstar, Weedfoot, Fennelspot, Parsley, Scrubmask, Oilstripe, and Puddlespeckle. Many of those eyes focused on Parsley.

“Well, I walk the first portion on the half-moon before the Gathering,” Fennelspot explained. “I have to visit StarClan’s Shrine.”

“And does AshClan escort you there, too?” Parsley mumbled, glaring at the large ginger and white figure at the front of the giant group. His mangled tail bounced high above his flank. Parsley wasn’t convinced the “nine lives” story was anything more than folklore to improve the leader’s image, but if leaders did get nine lives, judging by the scars covering Autumnstar’s body, he had most certainly lost a few by now.

“They used to,” Oilstripe chirped behind the pair. “Downstar got them to stop this moon.” She squeezed between Fennelspot and Parsley.

“Now I thought RippleClan was sovereign,” Parsley huffed. “Why did Autumnstar make such a fuss about us waiting at the border for AshClan?”

“It’s early RippleClan history!” Oilstripe explained. “When StarClan gave the Clans their blessing to form RippleClan, AshClan had to give up some of their land to us as payback for killing the Ashes in the Water, Weedfoot’s group of friends. Autumnstar only agreed to acknowledge RippleClan as a real Clan if they could escort us whenever we had to cross past their territory. It sucks, but it means they aren’t trying to kill us, so for now, we put up with it. They gotta escort us to Gatherings or Autumnstar said he’ll chase us out.”

“So much for independence,” Parsley huffed. “That’s just not right. I’m sure the other Clans don’t need a kitsitter.”

“We’re working on it,” Fennelspot groaned as the two Clans reached a harsh cliff face. A small path snaked up the side of a harsh wall of brown stone that stuck out of the sweeping, rugged hills that marked most of the area. Moss and leaves peeked out of the cracks and a small trickle of water flowed into a pool of clay to the side. Pawprints covered the clay deposit as memories of artisans harvesting clay for their terracotta. A narrow path wound its way up the slope. Voices chirped from somewhere up top. Autumnstar led AshClan up the cliff in two neat lines, but Downstar raised her tail and everyone in RippleClan stopped.

“Aren’t we going to join them?” Parsley huffed.

“RippleClan will make its own entrance,” Downstar explained. “Scrubmask, do you have our goods?” Scrubmask carried a basket filled with as many mussels as she and Carnationpaw could find. Parsley hadn’t realized cats were capable of crafting such things until her arrival over a moon prior. Scrubmask lifted the basket at her leader’s call. The mussel shells clattered together inside. Autumnstar yowled when he reached the top of the cliff and all the cats of AshClan launched up and out of sight.

“Stay together when we enter,” Weedfoot said, looking over her shoulder as Downstar flicked her tail and climbed the path up.

“The Gathering can be really exciting,” Fennelspot explained as RippleClan followed Downstar, “but I want you to stay by me tonight, and let me know if your tail starts to hurt too much.” Parsley didn’t like lying, so she didn’t respond. Her tail burned and the exposed skin underneath her cobweb bandages stunk. Fennelspot said the wounds were infected and rarely left Parsley’s side. Even so, when RippleClan returned from the last Gathering, the way they spoke of the event pushed Parsley to ignore her pain and demand a place at the next one.

Since moving her tail too much made the burning worse, she couldn’t use it to balance along the narrow path. Fennelspot walked along the edge and kept her paws steady. Eventually, she made it to the top of the cliff, where Downstar and Weedfoot patiently waited for the rest of the Clanmates. They waited until every member of the patrol climbed onto the rich spring grass before they led RippleClan as a united group through a thick line of ferns and trees that concealed the Gathering Clearing.

Parsley thought AshClan was crowded, but the size of the crowd within the Gathering Clearing stole her breath. Never, in over a hundred moons of living, had she seen so many cats. There was a chance that there were more cats in this one clearing than Parsley had ever met. Every color pelt was on display, sitting on stones and hard ground ripping out of the grass, as cats from four different Clans gathered around a giant rock. It was a bulky, golden-brown structure as tall as two humans. Three cats stood on flat platforms scattered around the stone. Autumnstar climbed up the stone onto the highest platform. Downstar approached the rock and hopped onto the lowest platform.

“You’ll be able to interact with the other Clans once the leaders make their announcements,” Fennelspot whispered. “For now, stay here.”

“Well, you’ll need to tell me who is who,” Parsley whispered back. “And will you please throw in a few pronouns? I can’t understand why you Clan cats always assume things.”

“Parsley, you’re a Clan cat now,” Scrubmask reminded her.

“Greetings, everyone!” Autumnstar yowled from on top of the Leader’s Stone. “Welcome to the second Gathering of the new year. AshClan will start this moon’s announcements, as we have much to be proud of.”

“Is he always like this?” Parsley asked. She must have said that a bit too loud, as Autumnstar’s huge yellow eyes locked onto her. His frost-bite scars looked like open blisters in the light of the small fire lit in front of the Leader’s Stone. Parsley would have tucked her tail if she could have moved it.

“I am excited to announce,” Autumnstar continued, looking back over the crowd, “that some of my grandchildren have finished their apprenticeships and now stand before you as adults, capable of handling any threat that comes their way. Tonight, please give warm praises to Burningpath, Nettlestep, and Crimsonrun, the newest artisans and codekeepers of AshClan!” The Clans chanted the three names as three cats, each with ginger pelts, stood with their chins and tails high. Even RippleClan chanted the new names, so Parsley joined along. She kept going a bit too long after everyone’s excitement faded.

“Beyond that joyous occasion,” Autumnstar said, “we must mention that a black bear has come out of hibernation near the land of the Clans and crossed the Great Northern River into our territory. It took the life of one of our strongest caretakers, Sundream, while on patrol. The bear has crossed the river once more, but be on the lookout, for it may continue wandering the Clans. The rest of this moon has been typical for us. Mistlestar, would you like to go next?” Autumnstar nodded to a dark red cat on the second highest platform.

“Mistlestar is LynxClan’s leader,” Fennelspot explained quickly. “They’re neither a tom nor a molly. They keep their announcements short.”

“LynxClan is strong,” Mistlestar huffed. “No new kits, apprentices, or graduates, although Whitestripe expects her kits before the next Gathering. An uneventful moon for us.” They sat and wrapped their tail over their paws. They glanced down at the two leaders who shared the second lowest platform. One had long, dark fur, and sat with their back legs splayed out. The other was white with a pale brown back and a round figure. They muttered to one another, trying to decide who would make announcements first.

“So these two lead SlugClan and WheatClan?” Parsley asked.

“Gorgestar is SlugClan’s leader,” Fennelspot sighed, pointing his tail at the long-furred cat. “He’s a good leader. I did my best after his fall, but I couldn’t restore his back legs.” Fennelspot’s tone dropped as he said that. “The other cat is Sanderlingstar, from WheatClan. She’s been a leader the longest, even though Autumnstar is older.”

“SlugClan has received a blessing from StarClan this moon,” Gorgestar suddenly said, startling a few cats in the crowd. “On the night of the half-moon, just as Bubblemoon returned from StarClan’s Shrine, Scaleshine and Leafear had a litter of nine kits. A quarter moon has passed, and all nine have survived so far. They’ve each been given wonderful names and are growing well.” Cheers and excitement rose in the crowd.

“Are they well-fed?” Mistlestar asked.

“Bubblemoon is making sure every kit has their chance to eat and Scaleshine is not exhausted,” Gorgestar explained. “However, he needs to stay at her call to ensure her good health. SlugClan may call upon one of our neighbors for a spare cleric, should the need arise.”

“LynxClan has three to spare,” Mistlestar said with a nod. “We will help.”

“Thank you, Mistlestar,” Gorgestar purred. “That’s all for SlugClan. Sanderlingstar?” Sanderlingstar groaned and stretched, licking her lips as she looked over the crowd.

“WheatClan welcomes a new cleric apprentice by the name of Thistlepaw,” Sanderlingstar sighed. “She joins the apprentice’s den with her littermate, Fogpaw, who trains as a mediator.” The crowd cheered the names of the new apprentices. This time, Parsley made sure to stop chanting sooner rather than later. “Meanwhile, our oldest elder, Rockback, peacefully joined StarClan this moon. His last words, as he wanted everyone to know, were ‘It’s about time.’” WheatClan chuckled and various cats gave a bit of polite laughter, but AshClan was the loudest, fully giving into the dark humor. “WheatClan has fully embraced the spring growth and has new goods to trade, if any mediators or artisans want to visit our borders. Now I’m curious as to what our youngest Clan has been up to.” Sanderlingstar draped her paws over the edge of the platform as all the leaders looked down upon Downstar.

“It’s been quiet in RippleClan,” Downstar admitted. “My apprentice, Carnationpaw, has helped us collect some seaside goods for trade. We’ve brought some mussels with us for the communal soup, but they can be eaten raw as well.” Scrubmask stood on a rock so everyone could see her basket. “Beyond that, our kits are healthy and our camp is secure.”

“Well, that’s not really everything,” Sanderlingstar pointed out. “You’ve brought that loner you found with you tonight!” A hundred pairs of eyes fell on Parsley. Her fur bristled. She wasn’t doing anything wrong by being here!

“We told the Clans about Parsley last moon,” Downstar reminded the Gathering, blissfully pulling some eyes away from Parsley. “She’s a part of RippleClan now, and she is allowed to join us at Gatherings.”

“She’s caused trouble around AshClan in the past,” Autumnstar growled. His brutal eyes once again tore into Parsley. “I didn’t recognize her at first, but I remember reports of a self-righteous loner with a single white paw berating our patrols for doing their jobs.”

“And I remember a bunch of dim-witted killers screaming at me whenever I got within sight of them,” Parsley snapped. “I never crossed your borders but your warriors always harassed me. Of course, your Clan seems built on harassing others, isn’t it?” The crowd gasped and oooed at Parsley’s words while Autumnstar hissed. Oilstripe and Weedfoot cheered her on.

“Enough, everyone,” Mistlestar huffed before the Clans got too rowdy. “Is that all, Downstar?” Downstar nodded, defiantly staring up at Autumnstar.

“Your new Warrior is a troublemaker, Downstar,” Autumnstar grumbled. “Let the Gathering begin!” The five Clans swarmed one another. Old friends touched noses and the scent of each group overwhelmed Parsley’s nose. Oilstripe and Puddlespeckle vanished into the crowd. Scrubmask approached a large oven with her basket of mussels. Weedfoot joined Downstar by the Leader’s Stone.

“Well, what now then?” Parsley asked, eyes darting around the chaos.

“We socialize for a while until our Clan decides to leave,” Fennelspot explained, glancing between Parsley and Autumnstar. “Oilstripe will likely stay longer, though. There’s something called an Aftergathering once the leaders take their Clans home. It’s more relaxed than a regular Gathering.”

“This is already rather relaxed, don’tcha think?” Parsley chuckled. She groaned and stared at the huge crowd around her. “I’ll tell ya, Mr. Fennelspot… your Clans are strange.”

“You were so brave back there!” A young voice gasped. A murky gray kitten with a swirling pelt danced in front of Parsley. “You really showed AshClan up! I hope I can be like you when I graduate! I’m Fogpaw!” Fogpaw touched their nose to Parsley’s. Parsley stared for a few moments, unsure what to do next.

“Well, hi there,” she gulped. “She and her for me, please.”

“Why specify that when your scent matches?” Fogpaw asked, cocking their head. “Then again, maybe that makes sense, I mean, I’ll be telling everyone I use they and them my whole life, so I know some cats have to specify, but cats won’t really mess up for you. What was life like as a loner?” Huh. So this was a Gathering. Parsley could handle it.

“I’ve got a few stories if you’ve got time to hear them,” Parsley purred. Fogpaw nodded so hard, it looked like their head would come off. Parsley settled beside the young apprentice and did her best to enjoy her first Gathering.

(Parsley: 105, female, warrior, righteous, good speaker)

(Fennelspot: 68, male, cleric, insecure, valuable insight, incredible runner)

(Oilstripe: 15, female, historian, charismatic, ghost sight)

(Downstar: 70, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Weedfoot: 60, female, deputy, charismatic, very clever, formidable fighter)

(Scrubmask: 28, female, warrior, gloomy, fast runner, good hunter)

(Autumnstar: 115, male, leader, fierce, great hunter)

(Mistlestar: 78, agender (they/them), leader, cold, steady paws, excellent fire-starter)

(Gorgestar: 89, male, leader, sincere, excellent teacher)

(Sanderlingstar: 100, female, leader, childish, skilled toolsmith)

(Fogpaw: 6, non-binary (they/them), mediator apprentice, oblivious, interested in oddities)

#rippleclan #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #rippleclan story #downstar #parsley #fennelspot #autumnstar #mistlestar #gorgestar #sanderlingstar #oilstripe #scrubmask #gathering

31 notes · View notes