#foxfire forest summary

[episims]

Household: Knight

During the last round, Mel married Cedric, which already got noted when I played Cedric's household, as they continued to live apart (or rather, share two houses).

And while on paper Shay is Cedric's apprentice, Mel stepped up and took responsibility for his casting training. Shay couldn't wish for a better teacher, really! (He knows it, too – they put kids to memorize the name of every high witch in that school Shay came from).

Luke mostly focused on avoiding Mel, with some occasional whining.

#ts2 #ts2 gameplay #the sims 2 #the sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #foxfire forest #playing foxfire forest #foxfire forest summary #melody knight #luke wisher #no i still don't know what to do with luke #but also #that's how life is! #every destiny isn't meaningful and fulfilling #he plays an important part by showing that too #...or well #some kind of part #but he really is quite content as it is so #who am i to say it's not enough?

[axels-corner]

Chapter 3 of the coffee shop au!

Summary: Oralie and Kenric continue the tour by visiting the wandering woods

Notes: You can read the first chapter of this au here and the second chapter here

Characters: Kenric, Oralie

Words: 956

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48995623/chapters/124530856

“So what's the sanctuary?” Oralie asked as they walked, without truning to look at her he said

“It's how we get to Atlantis and the Wandering Woods.”

“And those are?”

“Our aquarium and a memorial to past elves.”

“So kinda like a graveyard?”

“Yeah kinda, if a councilor passes away they get a tree in their name, same thing for regents, emissaries, Foxfire students, you get it.”

“So basically if you've achieved elf status, a tree will be planted?”

“Yes, with the persons name on it.” she nodded but then a realization seemed to come upon her

“Is that why you give out those little cards and if they get enough stamps they become an elf, then a regent, and so on?” He nodded

“Not only does it keep them coming back because eventually they'll get reduced coffee, as well as climbing the ranks, but also they'll be immortalized here.” and with that they stopped at the entrance Kenric spreading his arms wide, like a magician revealing his next trick “This is the Wandering Woods.” They were standing under a golden arch with white flowers on it and the words Those Who Wander Are Not Lost. All around them there where trees, each unique, birds sounds where the only that could be heard as they came in through the open sunroof. He watched as Oralie took it all in, she reminded him of when he first joined the council, bright eyed, and optimistic. He was proud that he had been able to keep that over the past rough few months, he hoped she would as well since he had a feeling things were going to get worse before they got better.

“Are those mountains?” She asked pointing to a wall in the back,

“A couple years ago Terik brought up the fact that it kinda looked plain, so he suggested we paint some mountains. Of course he did rope me into helping and eventually recruited Kesler and Juline.”

“And Bubbles?” She asked with a smile

“Of course, we weren't having a heat wave and there's a small pond back there so he was able to swim to his hearts content, though he still stayed closer to Terik.”

“How did he get him?”

“We were about 13 or 14 years old, and there was this kid who was moving and we saw him on our way home from school. He said that where he was moving to didn't allow pets but he would give us the tank to take care of him, and instructions. He also gave us his phone number in case we needed to call him.” They walked down the path as they talked

“Who was it? Did you ever call him?”

“Yeah, we called him regularly, he become one of the group, and one of our best friends. His name was Ruy, and after a couple months one of his friends Gethen joined the friend group as well, we talked to them like everyday, whether through texting, or calling.”

“What happened then? Did they eventually move back.” He was surprised but hid it, he had told Oralie all about Gethen and Ruy. Just what was going on?

“No, I'm not sure what happened we just fall out of touch.”

She nodded probably sensing he didn't want to talk about it, and changed the subject asking, “How did you and Terik became friends? It seems the two of you are attached at the hip.” Kenric chuckled

“We basically are, we've been friends since he moved here, like when we were in the second year of Foxfire, we both walked home and our houses where near each and the rest is history as they say.”

Oralie nodded, a smile on her face, he'd forgotten how beautiful it was after all these years. She wandered a little bit away, to a river that ran through the forest, crouching down to look in it, and he joined her. A peaceful silence settling over them, so different from her screaming at him, he barely remembered what happened, but now he wants to know. Why had she changed? Had she forgiven for what she thought at the time, was dumbest mistake of his like that he has made all those years ago? Oralie was the one to eventually break the silence.

“It's a strange beauty.” Kenric crouched down next to her joining her hand in the water

“What do you mean?” She looked up, not at him, but off in the distance

“It's fragile, and quiet, like one wrong move it'll shatter it.” He thought about that for a minute

“It is, but I wouldn't call it fragile, after all the quiet beauties are sometimes the strongest.” They both thought an that for a minute, lapsing into a comfortable silence. He didn't know what Oralie was thinking about, but he was thinking back on his friendship with Ruy and Gethen. He wished they hadn't fallen out of touch, but one day when they where fifteen they just stopped answering the phone, he didnt't know what happened or why it happened, but then one day he got a text that told him and Terik to stop searching, and days later a canon from the school play had a misfire. That's what was officially reported anyways, but he didn't buy it even all these years later. Before he could dive into his worry, and speculation further he stood up. He could dwell on this later when he talked to Kesler, for now he offered a hand to Oralie pulling her up.

“Where to next on our adventure?” She asked

“The lost city, Atlantis.” She smiled contagiously, he could feel himself also start to smile his fears leaving

“Well, lead the way.”

Coffee Shop au taglist: (if you want to be added or removed just let me know)

@winterfireice @official-kenralie-fanbase @antisocialdork

#councillor kenric #kotlc fanfiction #my writing #kotlc kenric #kenric fathdon #kotlc oralie #councillor oralie #koralie coffee shop au

[williamwonderland]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Komori Kinoko/Kuroiro Shihai Characters: Komori Kinoko, Kuroiro Shihai Additional Tags: ship could be platonic or romantic it's whatever, Zine: Foxfire Fanzine, Class 1-B - Freeform, Character Study, afternoon relaxing, Mushrooms, lots of mushrooms, characters just chatting, Reflection, Kinoko's rambling about mushrooms the entire time Summary:

On warm Sunday afternoons, when there's nothing in particular to do, Kinoko likes to run away with Kuroiro into the forest that takes up most of UA's campus. Deep among the trees, there's a clearing where they like to laze about and chat about nothing in particular. There's warm sun and dappled shade, soft grass, and a lovely view of the bright blue sky that's perfect for cloud-gazing.

This is one such afternoon.

--

This was my contribution for the free Kinoko-centric @foxfire-fanzine! I had a lot of fun writing it, and was happy to give a couple of my favorite characters from the underrated Class 1-B a little love!

#bnha #bnha zine #Komori Kinoko #Kuroiro Shihai #zine #queueqi #will writes #fanfic #participating

[fr-melinoe]

Onyx Grasp

Words: 1,253 Dragons: Dia, Kareltje, Lorelei, Arnalt (mentioned), The Omens (Attalia, Kaska, Absalom, Mannea, Jericho) Summary:

Lorelei had vanished. The circumstances were unclear, becoming a horrific truth as they find what remained of her. Though... she would not remain that way forever.

Lorelei had been missing for approximately seven months before they found her again. She vanished while on a hunting trip by herself. The reasons for her choice in going alone was a mystery, typically she would have gone with her husband, Arnalt. The two of them yielded greater results, frequently returning with an over abundance that the lair would gorge upon. But instead she chose to go alone.

There were countless rumors about her disappearance that were spoken amongst the passers through, even Dia’s own disciples questioning the validity of their strongest warrior’s disappearance, but there was simply nothing to gain from such chatter.

Or at least that was what Dia would say.

Kareltje alone was the only member who knew of her anxieties over the matter. Kareltje alone knew of her suspicions.

It was in the dead of night that something broke. As the thundering footsteps of the omen bringers strode through the clan’s village, their purpose absolute and of grave importance. And it was 2am when they told Dia of what they saw.

Lorelei’s corpse had been discovered in the Tangled Wood, deep within it’s realm. Mangled and rotted, caught in the twisting thorns the Foxfire Bramble was known for. Dia flinched visibly as they came upon the sizable guardian, the smell of death was choking. Her students flanked their teacher, stoically looking upon the remains of their friend.

It was in the dead of Summer when Lorelei came to Dia’s personal estate. A surprise visit from a knight, though Dia would always make time for someone who served her family so dutifully. She had been making conversation with Dia and Kareltje, namely of logistics and the letters her young would send her from their travels or their duties serving the Lightweaver herself. Despite her tone, it was clear that something was on her mind.

Kareltje could see the desire to speak alone with Dia, and he smiled and politely excused himself. Making up a simple excuse for him to dismiss himself, lovingly nuzzling his wife before vanishing into their home.  

“My liege, I fear I must ask you something. Is there… something wrong with me?”

“...I would say no, why would you ask?” Dia folded her foreclaws in front of her, feeling the instinctive need for more.

The guardian hesitated a moment before continuing, “I have been… struggling as of late. With this and that. And I’ve find myself sinking deeper and deeper. I can’t quite seem to pull myself out, you see, and it seems to… get worse when I see the others. When I see the way Hecate admires Xibalba, or how Kareltje cares for you. It makes me feel… alone.”

Dia hummed, picking through her thoughts before settling on her first question, “Is it… a matter of envy? Or that of loneliness?”

“...Loneliness… I think.” She admitted, refusing to meet Dia’s gaze. Dia could read how it pained her to admit such a thing. It must’ve been something she had been attempting to hide, “It seems so easy for all of you. It used to be easy for me…” Lorelei choked on her words, bowing her head in humiliation at admitting her insecurities, “It used to be so easy for me and Arnalt. Am I too harsh a woman, Madame? I may not be as lovely or fair as a skydancer, or even a spiral, but am I so repulsive to look upon?”

Dia felt a prick of anger trail down her neck. She could see why she would request that Kareltje step away for this.

She rose to her feet and circled the stained glass table to the side of her most trusted warrior, “There is not a thing in this world wrong with you. Not for your personality, not for your appearance. You are a lovely and powerful woman. And I will have a word with your husband, I swear upon Lightweaver’s divinity, I will-”

Lorelei raised a claw with a soft laugh, “No… no please. I would just like it to stay here… Thank you my liege.” She stood, taking a steadying breath and smiled like nothing were wrong, “I believe I should speak to my husband… I need some time to think to myself.”

“I should have never let her leave…” Dia whispered as she withdrew her tome. She wasn’t about to let this fate stay. She wasn’t about to let Lorelei die forever after such an end. Lorelei deserved so much better than what she had.

It didn’t take long for Dia to begin work, giving her students orders.

Cut away the thorns.

Draw the circle.

Prep the candles.

Paint the body.

Wrap the wounds.

Take position.

They stood at the points of the circles, Dia at the start point. She muttered a prayer beneath her breath as she spoke up. She chanted the spell, focusing intently on the body of Lorelei. The circle began to fill with a deep, glowing light that tracked the rim of the circle, following the patterns inward as it trailed towards the guardian.

She should’ve felt what was wrong with the spell there.

The chant followed the lines, the girls repeating after Dia in an echo, urging the light to grow brighter and brighter as the earth began to shake. The students gripped the candles in a bid to keep them from snuffing out. They couldn’t let the ritual fail midway.

Light enveloped Lorelei’s form, seeping through her metallic scales and causing the body to twitch. Dia smiled, her confidence growing with each passing moment. Unaware of the darkening color.

The glow began to deepen, shifting from the radiant silver it had before, sinking darker and darker into shades of purple.

“Lady Dia, we need-!”

“Hush! We can’t let this stop here!” Dia snapped, sweating as she read through the spell.

Three more lines. Three more lines. Three more lines.

Lorelei’s body twitched, and stood, the glow around her shifting deeper yet. The magic danced around her form like black flames, silhouette standing proud as a deep thunderous laugh erupted from the reviving soul. Dia refused to back down now.

Not now.

But her refusal would be her undoing.

The blast came as a surprise to all of them, propelling them all through the darkness of the forest, several of them slamming into the trees, tangling in the sharp thorns that dug into their wings. Only one thing stood in the blackness, perfectly visible despite the tangled darkness that knit into her wings.

Lorelei.

Her breathing rasped heavily, and dark arms wrapped around her figure.

She wasn’t right.

This wasn’t right.

She cackled, what little light they had glinted off her features. Her face had malformed, a chitinous mask grew upon her, gnarled antlers protruding from her skull. Smoke poured from her mouth, as she rasped every breath. Dia froze, staring at what she had done. What she had wrought. What had become of her friend.

The new Lorelei lurched forward, walking towards Dia. Dia could not move, for the first time in her life truly paralyzed by fear as the imposing figure loomed over her. She flinched as the head jerked unsettlingly towards her, multiple milkish pink eyes peered at the coatl with intent. Dia shut her eyes tight, waiting for her to strike and end her existence.

…

There was only the sound of shifting earth, like a trowel scraping soil.

And then silence.

…

Dia slowly opened an eye, seeing the head bowed. The exoskeletal nose lightly grazing the mossy floor.

“My… Liege.”

#flight rising #flight rising lore #fr writing #fr melinoe #I gotta fuckin repost this because the links wouldn't let it show up

[metaandpotatoes]

Fic: Foxfire (Kitsune no Yomeiri)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15040703

Inspired by @parisiansulfur​‘s amazing Higashiyama series. 

Rating: Mature

Length: ~7,000 words

Pairing: Hiei/Kurama (YuYu Hakusho)

Additional Tags: Kurama | Minamino Shuuichi, Urameshi Yuusuke, Hiei/old-growth forests, Character Study, light to medium horror, Hanahaki elements, inadvertent vore, I’m so sorry, just because I tag things doesn’t mean that’s what the story is about, I just write weird shit ok?

Summary: “Make me a home for my fears, in exchange for your story.” No fox gives freely.

Excerpt: Kurama rolls to face him. The city twilight grasps the bones of his cheeks and cracks open his horrors, a thousand screams buried in a façade of calm. Hiei watches death and cunning and betrayal run across the floor to burrow in the roots of the plants clustered in the corner, where they will wind their way up stalk and stamen and wait to prosper when Kurama plants them in the soft earth. Hiei stands as if to stop them, as if he could catch them before they can wreak their havoc, could crush them under his heel until they disappear forever from the lines that have etched themselves around Kurama’s eyes. Nothing ancient should be made so old by great deeds.

Read the fic at AO3. (I don’t think it’s necessary to know anything about YYH....)

#yuyu hakusho #yyh #hiei #kurama #hiei x kurama #my writing

[possibleplatypus]

The Pay it Forward Fic Challenge

Tagged by @kimthreerings​ *fist bump*

The Challenge: If you’ve been tagged, find at least ONE FANFIC (feel free to do more) that you’d like more readers to discover and enjoy as well.  

It can be any fandom, trope, ship, rating…sky’s the limit!

@ five people to invite to take this challenge as well.

#PayItForwardFC

My Fic Recs:

HOMG I’m staring at my… 966 Viktuuri bookmarked works (what is wrong with me) and I feel like crying Okay okay so I love *~fantasy~* AU’s so here are some that I think should get more attention:

Fic Title/Link: A Tale Carved on Ice by @adorafics Rated: T Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: Complete (2656 words) Summary: “He met him in the heart of winter, when the powdered snow was still woven with magic and the ancient forest was succumbing to glair-white brilliance…” A bittersweet tale about the magic we lost and the one we found again.

– This fic is short but it gutted me. The plot, the language! If you like beautiful, bittersweet, fairytale-esque stories, this one’s for you!

Fic Title/Link: When Night Falls, I Love You Again by @yuuris-piano Rated: G Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: Complete (7100 words) Summary: Will you dance with me…one last time?“ ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house. Not a creature was stirring, except for the magic of love and life. For you see, magic would come down the chimney and rub onto all the decorations. This magic gave the decorations a period where they could celebrate in the festive fun and cheer. And so the story begins…

– LIKE AN ARROW THROUGH THE HEART. Reminded me of Toy Story, or The Nutcracker; I would also recommend this story for those who like magical realism.

Fic Title/Link: wild mint blossoms by @selkiegirls​​ Rated: M Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: WIP (Chapters 2 out of 3 complete, 24530 words) Summary: In the land of the fae, Viktor falls in love the same way that he loses himself: with yuuri at his side and with the lingering scent of mint surrounding them both like a whisper.

– Viktor and fairy!Yuuri go on an adventure. Okay it’s way better than I make it sound; the worldbuilding is fascinating, the prose is beautiful and the story immersive WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT

Fic Title/Link: The Mark He Left Behind by @khaleeshli​​ Rated: T Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: Complete (8757 words) Summary: Viktor Nikiforov falls in love with a kitsune named Yuuri at the age of sixteen. Fate decides to pull Viktor away from Yuuri before their love can fully flourish. Viktor learns about love, Yakov interjects his opinions, and Yuuri is just pretty.

– IT HAS LITERALLY BEEN ALMOST A YEAR AND I’M STILL SCREAMING AT VIKTOR (read this and its sequel and you’ll see why)

Fic Title/Link: Your eyes could drown a city by @salanayuniasis Rated: G Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: Complete (4257 words) Summary: “Ocean, beautiful, selfish Ocean, wrap me up in foam, I am your betrothed. You who returns to the earth only the boats and the men you want to give back, give me the gold of the sumptuous sinking vessels, give me their treasures, bring in my town handsome sailors that I shall gaze upon. But, oh, don’t be jealous, I’ll give them back to you, one after the other.”

– Look I am a sucker for fairytale-esque stories with poetic prose don’t judge me also if it isn’t obvious already my reviews don’t do any of these stories justice

Fic Title/Link: will lose my desire for you (never my love) by @sinkingorswimming Rated: M Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: WIP (Chapters 1 out of 2 complete, 16146 words) Summary: Victor is ten when he leaves home to fine tune his alchemy, nineteen when he meets Katsuki Yuuri, twenty when he becomes a State Alchemist and a husband, and twenty-two when a teen named Yuri Plisetsky begins to report to him. His world changes drastically a few years later, and when Victor makes a decision that cannot be undone, he unlocks a mystery and crosses paths with a man only known as Lust. 

– I could have sworn this fic was finished… BUT I AM DEFINITELY NOT OPPOSED TO MORE. I never finished watching Fullmetal Alchemist but this AU I think really incorporates the series’ spirit.

Also I seem to just be reccing fics that made me cry omg why 

okay HERE

Fic Title/Link: I breathe for You, Only You by @narcissuspseudonarcissus​ Rated: M Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: Complete (35187 words) Summary: V’tor is a bronze dragon rider, destined to lead a weyr with his fire-breathing dragon Makkath in the age long battle against the terrifying organism they call thread. Yuuri is a dancer with a love of dragons, one of the first ballet dancers; having been able to access the newly discovered records from the colonists ancient computer system AIVAS.

– Love this Dragonriders of Pern AU! Get your dragons, romance, and adventure with none of the homophobia here

Fic Title/Link: ephemeral; by @gia-comeatme Rated: M Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: WIP (Chapters 1 out of 2 complete, 5919 words) Summary: Yuuri only wanted to get a tattoo as a reminder of how far he’d come, but instead, all it served to do was to remind him of how much he’s lost. Viktor was just supposed to be his tattoo artist, until he wasn’t, and then was again. :: The Olympics is all about stories. The only thing Viktor wants is to remember theirs, and yet all Yuuri wants is to forget.

– *flails* amazing urban fantasy with tattoo artist Viktor, figure skater Yuuri, and a really intriguing plot 8D 

Fic Title/Link: Pink Champagne on Ice by @lorienleylines   Rated: M Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: WIP (Chapters 4 out of ? complete, 20383 words) Summary: Welcome to Yu-topia Inn! Run by a darling family of bake-danuki demons, this remote Gilded Age manor is chock full of fine-polished rooms to ignore the outside world in. Yuuri Katsuki, the youngest member of the small family that runs Yu-topia, has barely seen life outside of the Inn’s walls. He spends his days caring for the guests – in more than one way. During the day, he brings them food and drinks, but during the night, he keeps watch for other demons that may come and try to hurt them. It’s a monotonous, routine life for a demon, but Yuuri isn’t complaining. Still, he can’t help but feel excited when his childhood friend, the ice-bending vampire Viktor, comes to stay. But Viktor isn’t coming as a guest this time; he has an ulterior motive, and Viktor’s decisions that may bring more adventure and drama than Yuuri ever hoped for.

– Vampire!Viktor and bake-danuki!Yuuri-- how could I resist? (I couldn’t) These two are so adorable, plus there’s the drama of Viktor’s family X3

Fic Title/Link: the voice of your heart by @maclaeroni    Rated: G Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: Complete (1751 words) Summary: The thing about having emotion as the very basis of your magic is that when something doesn’t align with your heart, it becomes painfully obvious. Viktor may not be able to use songs to create magic like Yuuri does, but even he knows that something is bothering Yuuri.

– I just really love this worldbuilding and of course Viktor and Yuuri’s relationship X3

Fic Title/Link: Keep Their Colours True by @pensversusswords Rated: M Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: WIP (Chapters 3 out of ? complete, 12947 words) Summary: Viktor Nikiforov, the Crown Prince of Pobeda, embodies everything Yuuri has heard about him; strikingly beautiful, kind, blessed with hair as silver as starlight that falls down to his waist, has a smile that could make the coldest heart tremble, and–most importantly–he is completely unattainable. Katsuki Yuuri is sworn to protect the Crown Prince with his skill, his dedication, and his life if necessary. The problem is that Viktor doesn’t seem to be content with staying out of reach. He is stubbornly determined to find a place in Yuuri’s life with his smile like sunshine, his infectious exuberance, his friendly disposition. Yuuri was just supposed to protect Viktor. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him.

– Age swap royalty fantasy AU with Yuuri as Viktor’s bodyguard. The pining! The drama! I am LIVING

Fic Title/Link: Foxfire by @awesometinyhumanbeing Rated: Not Rated Fandom/Pairing: Yuri!!! On Ice: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Status: WIP (Chapters 1 out of 2 complete, 12852 words) Summary: He's—Yuuri stops. Mine doesn't sound quite right. For me. His eyes are smarting, suddenly. He excuses himself with a mumbled apology, hurries to any place that will hide him away. Vulnerability floods through him, makes him clumsy and sensitive. He's for me, Yuuri thinks, and he's crying, crying, crying. (The forest is Yuuri's home, and the kitsune are his kin. Victor teaches him what it means to be human.)

-- an AU with Japanese folklore elements, kitsune, beautiful descriptive writing, and a tender Viktor/Yuuri romance.  

Tagging: @dreaming-fireflies, @yuuris-piano, @yoyoplisetsky, @scribeoffate, @narcissuspseudonarcissus​

#yoi #yoi fic #viktuuri #payitforwardfc #yoi au #viktor nikiforov #katsuki yuuri #fantasy #kimthreerings #am i secretly a masochist #i don't find bittersweet fics they find me #...i might have gone a little overboard #look if i recced every fantasy au i liked this post would be like 10 times longer #maybe 20 times #I should make a proper rec list one day #TUMBLR WHAT ARE YOU DOING WHY DO SOME OF THE TAGS NOT WORK #I... I think I fixed it

[sumigakure]

Apples on Trees

To: @will-zeke-thomson

From: @arrowsbane

Title: Apples on Trees

Rating: T

Wordcount: 1313

Prompt: I’d like to see a story about how Tenzou fathered a bunch of kids (doesn’t need to be from one woman or be romantically involved with one at all) because he wanted his wood release to be carried on to future generations.

Notes: I went off on a bit of a tangent here, but hey, it worked. Also, I’m pretty sure I bent the timeline here, but who gives a crap. Ace!Tenzo. 3some!Santa-Shisui-Hana.

Summary: Tenzo never really had a proper family, so it stands to reason that the family he made wasn’t exactly normal. You know what they say about apples and trees – they don’t fall far.

Tenzo never really had a proper family.

He didn’t have a mother and a father, instead he had a mad scientist experimenting on his genetic structure, and an old war-hawk with a serious micro-managing problem.

He didn’t have a grandfather, instead he wound up with a Hokage in the shape of a crooked old man who ripped up one side of Root, and down the other with a ferocity that burnt hotter than foxfire.

He didn’t have a brother or a sister either, instead he got a Kakashi… and he’s pretty sure it’s broken.

So it stands to reason that when he did, eventually, build his own family, it wound up a little… odd.

…

It takes a while, but Tenzo finds himself stood in front of the Hokage, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“I wish to have offspring,” He states, and the Hokage frowns contemplatively. In the background, Tenzo can hear at least three of the ANBU guards slip from their perches in shock, and a fourth choke on his own spit.

“I see.” The Hokage replies, his tone neutral. Tenzo relaxes in his place, before the Hokage adds.

“But you don’t have much experience with children.”

Tenzo blinks.

“I am both capable of, and able to provide care for infants.” He says, confused. After all, one of his duties for Root was to care for the younger recruits – ensuring they were fed and clothed.

“Nothing beats experience Tenzo,” the Hokage tells him, before grinning cheerfully, and tosses a dossier at Tenzo’s head. He catches it, and opens it warily.

“Hokage-sama?”

“It’ll be very good for you,” the Sandaime replies, “and most amusing for me.”

…

Tenzo finds himself blinking down at his six new companions. Three Genin: Uchiha Shisui, Honda Santa, and Inuzuka Hana - plus three ninken puppies who are tearing apart… something.

His first thought, is that this is not going to work.

…

Fast forward a year or so, and Tenzo finds himself with honest-to-god actual minions who will do anything he says, so long as it involves the humiliation and suffering of somebody very much so not-them. The little voice at the back of his head whispers that this is not quite like having kids, but he has gotten better at handling small people with emotions.

Maybe the Hokage does know what he’s doing after all.

…

His first child is, of course, a daughter. A daughter named Kaede, with maple hair and dark brown eyes and lungs that have more strength than a hurricane. She never seems to sleep either, and so ­­Tenzo and his genin quickly learn to pray for her naptime, because it’s the only time they ever have that is peaceful – unless they take shifts, of course. The only problem with shifts… is that Kaede has a sixth sense for when they try to sneak away and loses it.

It’ll be years before they find out she’s a natural-born sensor with a range that would make the Nidaime weep with jealousy.

There will come a day when missing-nin will flock to Konoha, because they could run and run and run and she would always, always find them.

…

Masaki and Mikio come next, fraternal twins who were apparently demons in a past life, because nowhere is safe once they learn how to crawl. Even Hana’s poor ninken aren’t spared – their tails and ears being pulled at every opportunity.

Hana whimpers whenever it’s her turn to change the nappies, and does so with an honest-to-god clothes peg on her sensitive nose.

Shisui tried to hide… only to be dragged back by his long-suffering girlfriend who is not putting up with his crap goddammit.

[Somewhere in between the Twins being born, and the next kid coming along, Tenzo comes to the conclusion that not only have his brats his puberty – hard – they’ve folded themselves into some kind of threesome. Huh.

In all honesty, he doesn’t care – so long as they keep it to the bedroom, and nothing happens with the kids around.]

Santa… Santa has the strange civilian ability to breeze through child-rearing with an ease that is normally associated with a ninja killing somebody, which is probably why the others hand the kids off to their boyfriend at every opportunity.

It’s terrifying.

And yet, it’s because of this that Tenzo is beyond grateful that the Hokage gave him brats before kids.

…

Naoki.

Where does one even begin to describe this one? An accurate assessment would be to describe him as the second coming of the Shodaime – a genius, but an emotional genius.

He’s been known to catch Jonin in his traps before even making Genin, and yet… he’s also been caught trying to teach various plants and shrubbery how to recognise – and attack – shinobi from other villages.

It seems to work though, because it stops the Hyuuga incident cold when one particular bush of roses wraps a Kumo nin in thorny ropes when said nin tries to kidnap the three-year old heiress.

The Hyuuga take special care to water this bush now, and have been witnessed making many trips to the Yamanaka flower shop to purchase both fertilizer and companions for it – and now the entire compound is surrounded by various colors and species of roses. It’s both beautiful… and deadly.

Tenzo is so proud, he doesn’t even have the words.

Shisui does. He practically keels over giggling about Killer Roses, and asks permission to plant them in the Forest of Death.

Sarutobi actually finds himself considering it…

…

Haruki is his last child (with a glare that can stop a Kage in its tracks and a demeanor that convinces many that he’s the reincarnation of Senju Tobirama), and like all the others, was born with the help of a surrogate.

The only difference being, is that the psychological evaluator clearly flubbed his job and Tenzo found himself on the verge of a custody battle, before the Hokage put his foot down.

Haruki is the only one of the lot who has visitation with his birth mother – and even then it’s carefully monitored; as the birth mother turned out to be a distant, but favoured, cousin of the daimyo.

Haruki also happens to be the only one who would grow up to be an undercover agent for the Daimyo’s court, so there’s that.

…

The kids grow into righteous rage, shaped like small people with big brown eyes and smiles that could cut you as easily as the weapons they wield. As luck would have it, they all present with Mokuton, and Konoha has never had it so easy in the fruit department as orchards of fruit-bearing trees seemingly sprout overnight.

His Genin grow too – Hana becomes a skilled veterinarian and tracker, heads and shoulders above the rest; her puppies are now strong and swift ninken, although they’ll still chew his zori to pieces if given the chance.

Santa goes into the medical field, and specializes in poison and using medical techniques in battle – he’s in charge of the greenhouses too, which makes Tenzo proud as… well, proud as a green-thumbed ninja with successful students.

Shisui… Shisui masters his Sharingan, and becomes famous for his use of the body flicker in battle. So famous in fact, that he’s got a flee-on-sight order for three out of the four other ninja villages.

The only ones who don’t take him seriously are Suna, and that’s because they’re all terrified of meeting Santa in the field. 

If only people knew Shisui’s skill came from being a sleep-deprived Genin who just wanted to change a nappy and go back to sleep. 

If only.

…

Twelve years after that strange, strange day when Tenzo confronted him with the desire for offspring, the Hokage finds himself beaming with pride as a pack of tiny wood-producing children terrify ninja and civilians’ alike.

It’s almost like having Hashirama-sensei back.

If you enjoyed this piece, why not take a look at other pieces written by the same author on AO3.

#rated: T #Sumigakure Stocking Stuffers 2017 #submission #arrowsbane #sumigakure #rank: b

[clarenecessities]

The Dread Pirate Ladybug, Ch 10

Chapters: 10/13 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Implied death, may contain horses

Chapter Summary: have you ever gotten the impression that everything around you is trying to kill you? if you’re not australian, you may be in a fire swamp Chapter Warnings: Actual violence, blood tw, blade tw, attempted murder, animal death, fire cw, poorly written romance

AO3

Marinette held her sword in one hand, and Adrien’s clammy palm in the other. She tightened her grip in reassurance as she peered into the twisting maze of the fire swamp.

The trees were everywhere, massive and gnarled and growing so close together that walking beneath them felt like descending physically into night. The vegetation was scant, but a thousand varieties of fungi curled and sliced from every surface, and lichen draped itself from the cathedral of branches overhead. A reek of sulfur and smoke lingered in the air. The ground wasn’t very swampy at all, hard and dry and carpeted with fallen leaves and an inauspicious bramble or two. A faint orange glow suffused the entire forest, but it grew more concentrated beneath this crust of debris.

Marinette pushed a small patch of blackened and decaying leaves away, revealing a network of phosphorescent fungus that seemed to pulse under the toe of her boot.

“Foxfire,” she said aloud, looking to Adrien. He was watching the ground with fascination, his bright green eyes shining in the reflected light. The eager curiosity on his face, which had been reluctant and heavy with fear mere minutes ago, filled Marinette with a fresh rush of affection.

“There’s an oxidative enzyme in the fungus,” she explained softly when he turned to her, unable to restrain her smile as he watched her with undisguised interest. “It’s the same process as fireflies. Don’t eat any of them though; a crewmate of mine did once thinking they were chanterelles, and regretted it… rather fiercely.”

Adrien pushed at the leaves with his own foot to expose a larger swath of the underlying variegation. The patterns shifted as he swept his sole across them, dancing like light reflected off of water. He gave a small laugh of delight, beaming at her.

“You’re right,” he told Marinette, a little breathlessly. “We can do this.”

“And what makes you say that, all of a sudden?”

“We’re standing in the middle of the Guilderian Fire Swamp, surrounded by poisonous fungus, and, quite likely, snow sand, spurts of flame, and smoke cats.”

“So we are,” she said cautiously, more than a little concerned about where he was going with this.

“In less than a minute, you’ve not only rendered the fungus harmless,” said Adrien, stepping closer to her, “you’ve made it beautiful. I don’t know how long we’ll be in here, and I honestly don’t think it’s going to be much fun, but we can at least survive. You, evidently, can survive anything.”

“Death cannot stop true love,” she repeated, with a wry smile. “And if I survive, I’m damn well taking you with me.”

He chuckled and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead that warmed Marinette to the tips of her toes. She’d never get tired of those kisses, of these moments. She felt as though she’d been in a blizzard for five years, frozen and frostbitten, and she’d finally been welcomed back inside. The small and tender gesture was a warm drink pressed into thawing fingers, and her earlier rush of affection became a torrent.

He loved her.

He loved her and he hadn’t forgotten her, he hadn’t given up on her or found someone he preferred. He had been swept up by circumstances outside his control, as she had been, but he still loved her. In spite of—well—everything. Just about everything. She was honestly having a hard time understanding what she’d done to deserve it, given her behavior in the past 24 hours alone.

“I love you,” she told him, because it was the most important thing in the world that he know that. She couldn’t remember if she had said it earlier—she certainly hoped the kissing had been a clue—but even if she had just finished saying it, it wouldn’t have been soon enough. So she said it again, for good measure. “Adrien, I love you.”

He drew back from her forehead and looked at her with so much raw emotion that she wondered how she could ever have doubted his feelings for her.

“I love you too,” he whispered, “Let’s kick the fire swamp’s ass.”

They set off at a slow pace, Marinette slightly ahead as she was the one with the sword, their hands still tangled between them. Adrien wove as he walked, stepping on the patches where the foxfire glowed brightest, still excited by the phenomenon and the caustic ripples he could elicit. Marinette swept lichen and vines from their path with the flat of her blade, watching carefully for movement ahead. She sawed through an especially long and sturdy vine with the knife at her side, winding it around herself like a rope. It seemed a handy thing to have, given the circumstances.

Almost immediately, they discovered the flame spurts. Preceded by a low rumbling, the ground would break apart from below, and instantly erupt into a blazing column of fire, spewed from the crack for anywhere from a few seconds to longer than Marinette and Adrien waited around to see. The sulfurous smell intensified as these spurts roared to temporary life, revealing the flammable gasses that were their source.

Skirting one of these pyrophoric vents, Adrien began to look nervous again. His eyes watched the flickering geyser and he strayed a little closer to Marinette’s side, his free hand reaching out to clutch at her forearm.

“So,” he began, in a failed attempt to sound casual, “Dread Pirate Ladybug, huh?”

She smiled at him, the same smile she’d given him when he’d first made that connection.

“The one, if not the only.”

“…You lost me.”

“Pop quiz,” said Marinette, “how long has Ladybug been sailing?”

“Twenty years, give or take a few—” Adrien paused mid-sentence, frowning. “Wait a minute.”

She continued to smile, letting him work the timeline out on his own.

“So you’re… not Ladybug?” he asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Oh, I am,” said Marinette. She released his hand to wave her own through the air, gesticulating vaguely. “Let’s start at the beginning, I guess. I did promise you an explanation.”

Adrien kept one hand on her elbow, his eyes fixed on her with burning curiosity instead of watching where he was going.

“What I told you earlier—that was all true. And at first it didn’t really make a difference.” Marinette continued to sweep and slash the lichen and vines from their path as she spoke, watching where they were going so Adrien wouldn’t have to. “Ladybug was fairly apologetic, but still very firm: I had to die. Matter of principle, you know.”

“What changed?”

“I started talking about you,” she told him. “I don’t know that she felt guilty so much as she wanted to hear more, to be quite honest. She didn’t really believe me. Although I can’t blame her: You are a bit too good to be true.

“She had me go on describing you bit by bit—‘Eyes the color of summer,’ I said, ‘and hair like the autumn sun.’ I mean, you know me, I’ve no great gift for words, but I could wax poetic about your face for years.”

“See, I could probably, uh—wax pathetic about it. It’s more trouble than it’s worth,” said Adrien good-naturedly, tossing his short hair as dramatically as he could.  “Wait! Wane pathetic. Final answer.”

Marinette laughed, curling her wrist so they walked just a bit closer together. Even this, simply talking, felt somehow more complete with him at her side. There were no awkward little gaps in the conversation, no haltingly explaining a joke that had failed to land—he encouraged her to speak the way he did everything, gently and earnestly, and what she had been sure ten minutes ago was the strongest love she’d ever felt now seemed only a vague fondness compared to the depths of her current affections.

“Anyway,” she continued, rolling her eyes at him, cramming her emotions away for a more appropriate time and venue, “she was interested now, at least a little, and by the end I knew I had her. She was unfortunately still pretty set on murdering me, as a pirate really can’t afford to let people think they’ve gone soft—particularly a pirate whose whole spiel is ‘No Survivors.’

“So I said, ‘I swear I won’t tell, that seems a pretty fair price for the whole not dying thing,’ or something to that effect, ‘and if you let me live, I will be your personal valet for five full years, and if I ever once complain or cause you anger, you can chop my head off then and there and I’ll die with praise for your fairness on my lips.’ And, you know, she seemed pretty interested. I don’t think anyone could frame five years of captivity and servitude as soft. She didn’t give in immediately, of course—she said, ‘Go below, I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.’”

Marinette stopped talking abruptly, and pretended to clear her throat to cover it up, not wanting to alarm Adrien or alert him to the enormous smoke cat she had just spotted following them.

Smoke cats, while rumored to be incorporeal and thought by some to be a will-o’-the-wisp variety of apparition, were unfortunately very real. They were named as much for their exclusive habitat—fire swamps—as for their coloration. With dusky fur that paled to silver at the roots, and a coal black marbling along the lengths of their bodies, they haunted the fire swamps like living shadows. Though it was often said they grew to be as large as lions, most were only the size of an especially big dog. They were principally ambush predators, drifting across the flickering forest floor or lurking high in the treetops as they stalked their prey. They almost exclusively had bright yellow eyes, and it was these that alerted Marinette to their presence as they watched she and Adrien pick their way through the swamp.

They glowed like embers, intent on their quarry, as the smoke cat sat perched on the bough of massive tree, its tail—the same length as the rest of its body—swinging like a pendulum beneath it. Though solitary creatures by nature, smoke cats had a deep partiality to fresh blood, and a tendency to frenzy. Marinette looked at Adrien, inspecting the healing wound on his temple to insure it had scabbed enough to keep him safe. Her wrist had stopped bleeding, and would be safe for a while, but she could protect it more easily than someone else’s head.

“Go on; what happened in the morning?” he urged, meeting her eyes.

“I cooked the crew breakfast,” she said simply, pulling him along so that she was in between him and the smoke cat, but still leading. “Their previous chef had been using pepper instead of salt, so they were thrilled with some reasonable pancakes. Ladybug ate seven of them and thanked me, said she’d most likely kill me in the evening.”

“But she didn’t,” said Adrien, smiling again.

“No,” she confirmed, smiling back. God, he was adorable. He was so excited. “By evening I had found ways to make myself useful. I reorganized their storage room, and fixed up a very poorly patched sail, and had a talk with the chef about seasonings. I worked out a plan for cleaning the whole ship, so the rest of the crew could cut back on time spent doing chores.”

“And that’s when she decided to let you live?”

“Honestly, I think she decided that the minute she didn’t kill me outright. But she kept saying that to me for years—‘good work Marinette, delicious pancakes, I’ll most likely kill you tomorrow.’ Except eventually I ran out of things to do to improve the ship, so she started me on ways to improve myself. Taught me how to fence, and sail, and somewhere along the way, we became friends.

“And then one day, she called me into her cabin. I was half-convinced my luck had run out and she was finally going to kill me, but instead she told me there was something about her that no one knew yet: She had a secret.”

Adrien squeezed her hand, his eyes sparkling and wide as dinner plates. “What was it?” he whispered, as if the fire swamp was full of eavesdroppers.

“’I am not the Dread Pirate Ladybug,’” Marinette told him, biting back a giggle at his enormous gasp. He clapped both hands over his mouth, and she thought it was only half theatrics—he seemed as genuinely shocked as she had been.

“She said, ‘My name is Bridgette. I inherited this ship from the previous Dread Pirate Ladybug. She wasn’t the real Ladybug either; her name was Jeanne, and she’d inherited it from a woman named Hippolyta. The real Dread Pirate Ladybug has been retired fifteen years and is living like a Queen in Kaokoland.’”

“But—why?” asked Adrien, lowering his fingers from his face only slightly.

“The thing about piracy—for-profit piracy anyway—is if you’re good at what you do, and you don’t get caught, it’s a very lucrative business. I mean, I barely keep anything, and I’m richer than our whole hometown combined. Bridgette went after a different class of ship than I did, and she got even richer even faster. And once you’ve made your fortune, why bother, you know?” She shrugged as she walked ahead, peering contemplatively up into the dense branches overhead. “They were all fairly eager to enjoy their spoils, but a reputation’s a difficult thing to come by. No one is going to surrender to the Dread Pirate Marinette.”

“I mean, I might,” said Adrien, chuckling at her heels.

“You’re biased,” she told him with a laugh. “You’d surrender just for a shot at flirting with me.”

“Well, true,” he agreed, a crooked grin splitting his face, “but I’d just as soon surrender out of blind terror. You’ve quite a temper, my lady, and…”

“And?” she prompted, tilting her head expectantly.

He didn’t answer.

“Adrien?” she asked, turning around to look at him.

Where he’d been standing a moment before, there was a blank expanse of sand.

Marinette swore loudly, ripping the vine off of her shoulders and tying a swift knot around a tree, wrapping the other end around her wrist and clenched hand, springing immediately into the bare earth.

Snow sand, a variety of dry quicksand, is found only under very specific conditions.

The Guilderian Fire Swamp has these conditions in abundance.

The finest grains of sand, silky and innumerable, were tossed and tumbled by the jets of marsh gas that wove under the hardened crust that composed the majority of the surface. Anywhere the ground was looser or lighter, it was fluffed up by these vents—anywhere it was thicker, they tended to result in flame spurts.

Moving through the snow sand didn’t feel like swimming, or even falling; it felt like floating. Eyes squeezed shut, a sailor’s lungful of air to hold, vine wrapped around her wrist, Marinette moved blindly through the powder. She’d dived in like an arrow, and though Adrien had doubtless been vertical while entering, he would know to spread himself flat as quickly as possible—or at least, she hoped he knew.

She swept her arms wide, feeling desperately for the slightest hint of her beloved. Did he have enough air? Had he kept his eyes shut? What if she found him and he couldn’t be saved? Had she come so far just to lose him now?

Her fingers brushed something hard and smooth, and she reflexively snatched it up, only to drop it as though scalded.

It was a hand, distinctly human, desiccated and detached from whatever pour soul had fallen into the snow sand’s pitiless grasp.

Gross. Gross, gross, gross gross gross.

She had to find Adrien. Immediately.

As though summoned by her renewed resolve, Marinette’s searching hands found something soft and warm, heavy and familiar. She drew him to her chest, pulling the vine in her other hand taut, wrapping it around her forearm as she hauled them both to the surface.

She broke into the open air with a dry gasp, Adrien’s head slightly ahead of hers. She pushed him onto solid ground as her legs kicked uselessly for traction, eventually flipping herself onto the mulch beside him. She brushed the sand impatiently from her eyelashes, breathing hard through her nose to dispel what had accumulated around her nostrils.

Adrien was lying still, his entire face caked in snow sand.

Marinette swore again, swiping what she could from his eyes and nose with one hand, while the other felt for a pulse at his throat. She sagged in relief when she found one, and felt the ragged breath in his chest.

She opened his mouth to check for any sand, finding it mercifully empty, though she could see a few grains in the back of his throat. He must have inhaled through his nose at some point, which explained the sound of his breathing.

She bent his left knee, drawing his left arm up towards his face, and rolled him gently onto his side, thumping him between the shoulder blades with the heel of her hand.

Adrien came awake with a deep cough, a plume of sand blossoming from his mouth as he hacked and convulsed with the effort. He opened his eyes as it subsided, a sliver of green amidst crusty blond lashes, a muddy tongue flicking over his chapped lips.

“Marinette?” he croaked, reaching for her automatically, his hand shaking as it curled into hers.

“Shh,” she hushed him, brushing the hair away from his face. “You’re alright. I’ve got you. Can you close your eyes for a minute?”

He did as she bade, probably more out of exhaustion than compliance, and she drew the canteen from her belt, pouring a slow trickle across his face. His expression screwed up as it passed over his eyes, and he licked his lips again on instinct. Without the sand in the way, his face was pale as a sheet, and Marinette rubbed comforting circles on his back as he wheezed on the ground.

“Thirsty,” he managed after she had finished cleaning his face. She helped him sit up, and after having him gargle and rinse, he took a long draught of water.

“Alright?” she murmured as he lowered the canteen. He nodded in response, dull eyes flickering to hers. He lifted his hands to her face, brushing the sand from her cheeks with shaking fingers. She laughed at him for being worried about her when he’d almost died, but closed her eyes obligingly beneath his ministrations.

“Thought I’d lost you,” she told him while he swept at her jaw, pressing her forehead against his with a small sigh. Her heart rate was only just beginning to slow.

“Doesn’t feel too great, huh?” he rasped, his voice still raw from the sand and coughing.

She felt a fresh wave of remorse for her actions over the past few years. “I’m so sorry I put you through that,” she whispered, opening her eyes. “I thought… I thought you loved her. I thought you were happier without me. Marquis of Carabas, free of his childhood fling, off to conquer the world. I couldn’t begrudge you that, no matter how much it hurt.”

“Chloé came to me and said I could either marry her or die,” said Adrien. “Honestly at that point I was pretty ready to die, but she set your parents up with a castle in Carabas, and I never had to pretend I cared about her or anything, so I figured hell, why not? Just because I’d never be happy again didn’t mean I had to take everyone else down with me.”

“I had my parents moved yesterday,” Marinette confided with a small smile. “I sent some of my crew to pick them up. They’re all set up with a little house in Guilder, never have to work a day in their lives again. Provided they believed I was alive, I guess.”

“I’m sure they did,” said Adrien, returning her smile. “They never really accepted it. We got the news and I just sort of… shut down, but they didn’t buy it. Your mother especially.”

“We’re a stubborn sort,” she said softly. She didn’t like the way he was talking; he was blaming himself for believing she had died. “Adrien, listen: It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. You did the best you could, you stayed alive—I’m the one who jumped to conclusions and left you all to fend for yourselves while I was off gallivanting across the seven seas.”

“You say that like it was easy,” he whispered, “but I can’t even imagine… if I had been in your place, and—and I came back to find you’d all moved on, that you were engaged to someone else—”

His voice broke, and she pressed her forehead into his more firmly.

“It wasn’t easy,” she admitted, because he needed to know that she cared. That she hadn’t just run off and abandoned him like his father, or gotten over him as quickly as she’d assumed he’d gotten over her. “When we got the news, I… it felt like I might as well have died, like what was the point? If I wasn’t doing anything worthwhile, if no one needed me, if I was just existing to be forgotten—”

“No one could forget you,” he broke in.

“That’s sweet,” she told him with a smile, “but grossly overestimates my significance. Not everyone is as aware of me as you are, you know.”

“They should be,” said Adrien, unapologetic, “but I’m sorry, I interrupted.”

“Well, I decided I was just going to be the best pirate I could be.” She shrugged, trying to play it off in spite of herself. He needed to hear it, and she probably needed to say it, but—it was hard to talk about. Just thinking about it had put a weight in her chest. “It was really the only way forward I could see. I’d… if I was never going to be with you, then I’d just take whatever road was at my feet. I had informants keep an eye on you, and my parents. I did what I could to make sure you were all safe. I hadn’t needed to get involved personally until yesterday.”

“You didn’t give up,” he murmured.

“On you? Of course I did,” she disagreed with a small, bitter laugh.

“No,” said Adrien, “on… living. On finding a way for yourself. I just did what other people told me, but you kept moving and learning and getting better and better. I only got prettier, and sadder.”

“It helped that I could still look out for you,” Marinette admitted quietly. “That I could still do things for you. Even when I was hurting, when I was so mad I wanted to turn up at the palace and scream at you—it helped that I knew I could. You didn’t have that.”

He shrugged, not meeting her eyes, swallowing thickly. They were so close she could hear the rasp in his throat.

“Besides,” she went on, voice growing a little stronger, “from what I hear, you were learning quite a lot. You weren’t just getting prettier and sadder. They were teaching you etiquette and politics and all that.”

“It’s not like I cared about it,” he laughed. “I know like six different ways to bow. It’s useless.”

“I certainly didn’t care about the things I was learning,” she told him. “I think we both did our best with our worst case scenario. We believed terrible things of each other, and—well—went a little off the rails, emotionally speaking, but we did our best. We tried our hardest. Sometimes all that meant was getting up in the morning, or eating enough, but… we did it. We made it, and now we have each other.”

The smile he gave her was radiant.

“We have each other,” he echoed breathlessly, returning her earlier pressure on his forehead. His eyes were half-closed, and Marinette’s own were having a hard time remaining open. Her blinks were slow and languid, lids heavy simply from his proximity.

The second kiss since their reunion was unlike the first, which had ultimately been a joyous affair, overflowing with emotion and affection and a fair amount of tears.

The second was slow, and sad, and carried the weight of what they had been through, the sharing of a burden they could never fully express.

Remorse heavy on the back of her tongue, Marinette pressed against Adrien’s chapped lips with a wordless catalogue of her every transgression. The years she’d spent doubting him, or cursing his name, or even wishing they had never met at all. The lies she had told him through her silence, the fate she’d led him to believe she’d met, the blindness she’d inflicted on him under the hands of his kidnappers.

This kiss was a question, an appeal for forgiveness she knew she didn’t deserve.

Forgiveness she received anyway.

Adrien sighed into the kiss like he was the one who needed absolution, so ready to welcome her back with open arms and an open heart that still showed the scars she had left. Her guilt beat into her with each thrum of her pulse, eating away at her, pulling her away from the beautiful creature before her. He deserved so much better than what she had put him through on the basis of an assumption—she left him with his own assumptions, to believe her dead and gone.

She began to draw away, opening eyes that had fallen shut and meeting Adrien’s gaze. She stilled at the weight of it, at the guilt she saw mirrored there, the desperation for her understanding, the strangled adoration he could never suppress. He followed after her, asking his own questions, seeking his own forgiveness.

She was only too ready to give it.

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               “I’ve had it,” Chloé announced, reigning in the great white horse beneath her.

“Had what, Your Highness?” asked the Countess, almost absently. Her eyes were trained on her hounds, milling about the corpse they’d discovered.

“It,” said Chloé, throwing her hands in the air. “We’ve been at this for hours. Do they have the scent or not, Lila? We’ll never find him at this rate!”

“They have the scent,” said the Countess. She dismounted to inspect the body alongside her dogs, pulling off the silver cowl to reveal a shock of silver hair, and blue eyes clouded by death. “So this is the great Papillon. He’s not much in person, is he?”

“He looks to have been awfully tall,” said one of their guards, when she looked to him for an answer. He seemed nervous to even speak in the presence of the Countess and Princess Chloé.

“No one’s tall when they’re laid out,” said Countess Rossi with a disinterested sigh. “It’s a pity. I would have liked to take at least one for questioning.”

“There’s still whoever’s got my fiancé,” Chloé supplied with a sour pout.

“True,” the Countess agreed, brightening. “And if the forensics are to be believed, they’re even better than those we’ve passed. We might be in for a truly glorious bout of scientific discovery, Your Highness.”

“Let’s focus on catching them first, shall we?”

The Countess hummed thoughtfully.

“They’re heading into the fire swamp,” she said, pointing ahead of her baying hounds where they whined and paced to resume the chase. “Take a portion of the guard around to the other end.”

“Excuse me?” said the Princess, voice dangerously sweet. While the Countess was the closest thing she had to a friend, station was not to be forgotten, and she was not to be spoken to that way.

“I humbly suggest,” said the Countess, with a bow a little too elaborate to be anything but sarcastic, “that Your Highness and the most dedicated of her retinue move to cut off the escape of the fiend which has most recently stolen her beloved.”

“You should learn to curtsey,” said the Princess, signaling the guard to accompany her as she wheeled around to face the far end of the Fire Swamp. The Countess smiled. The Princess tended to criticize that sort of thing only when she had nothing else to complain about.

“I know how to curtsey,” said the Countess, “but it’s rather difficult when one’s not wearing skirts.”

“Perhaps I’ll have some better dresses made for you,” said the Princess.

The Countess stayed a while with her hounds, sousing out the order of events. Whoever they were tracking, whatever their motive: They were a fearsome warrior.

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“Ow!” said Marinette, clutching at her forehead where it had banged painfully into a low-hanging branch.

“Are you okay?” asked Adrien from behind her, chuckling. She turned a half-hearted scowl his way, sticking out her tongue.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, “just got a bit distracted, is all.”

“By?”

“I was… checking for snow sand.”

The look he gave her was deeply skeptical. “Be honest: Were you thinking about me?”

She blushed in spite of herself. “No.”

“Oh my god, you were,” he said delightedly, brightening.

“Nope! No!”

“My lady, I’m flattered, but do watch where you’re going, won’t you? You can’t very well kiss me if you’ve knocked yourself unconscious.”

“Can’t very well kiss you if I’ve knocked you unconscious either,” she threatened weakly, laughing as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned back against his chest, looking up at him over one shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said, though he grinned unapologetically in her face, “I didn’t think you were really thinking about me. I was curious.”

“You know what they say about curiosity,” she muttered, poking his nose with her own.

“Well hey, if it can kill smoke cats, we’ve got it made.”

“Maybe we won’t see any smoke cats,” Marinette suggested hopefully. The one she’d seen earlier could have been a fluke. “Maybe they’ll know better than to bother with us.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky!” said Adrien, almost as if he believed it.

“When have we ever gotten lucky,” she groaned.

“We’re together again, aren’t we?” he pointed out with a grin. “That’s all the evidence I need.”

“Well, if that’s luck, I think it’s safe to say we’ve taken more than our fair share,” said Marinette. She stretched up, kissing his chin before wriggling free of his arms, walking a few steps ahead of him.

“Considering all the bad luck, I’d say we’ve yet to break even,” he disagreed with a faint chuckle. “I suppose meeting each other at all was quite a stroke of fortune, but the things we’ve had to put up with…! It’s ridiculous. We’re owed a bit of a respite from bloodthirsty wildcats, don’t you think?”

“The way we’re talking, it’s more likely we’ve jinxed it,” said Marinette, laughing.

“What, like I’m just going to turn around and there’ll be a smoke cat?” he scoffed, spinning on his heel and swinging his arms in an exaggerated double take. He then paused, doing an actual double take. “Oh. Uh.”

“Don’t tell me.”

“We might have a, uh—problem.”

Marinette sighed, turning back, find Adrien locked in a staring contest with a reasonably small smoke cat, the former grimacing, the latter bristling.

“Shit, are—are you not supposed to look them in the eye? Is it like a dominance thing?” he asked Marinette, taking a nervous step back but not breaking the stare.

“I don’t know!” she groaned. “It doesn’t seem to be attacking, so maybe it’s just gonna let us pass? I’m sure it doesn’t want trouble any more than we do.”

“It’s so little… It’s like actually cat-sized. I thought they were supposed to be as big as lions,” murmured Adrien, edging back closer to her side.

“Yes, it’s adorable, now let’s get out of here before—”

Marinette’s words broke off in a startled yelp as she was suddenly pitched forward, twisting awkwardly mid-fall so that she landed on her left shoulder instead of her sword. Her back erupted in pain as something hooked and long and sharp sliced through her shirt and skin. Hot blood ran down her spine like sweat. She skidded across the crust of leaves and fungus, leaving a trail of smooth orange foxfire to illuminate her assailant: A colossal smoke cat, as long as Marinette was tall, with blazing yellow eyes and a furious snarl contorting its face.

Adrien squeaked, half a step closer to Marinette than he had been. The smoke cat’s glare flickered to him, and then back.

“Okay,” Marinette breathed, now locked in a staring contest of her own. Very, very slowly, she began to lift herself up with her free hand, turning so her saber was between her and the smoke cat. “Don’t move.”

The smoke cat hissed and spat, swiping at the toe of her boot. Every piece of fur on its body was standing on end, its bottlebrush tail out stiff behind it.

“Are you okay? What do we do?” Adrien whispered, frozen as he awaited instructions.

“Check and make sure your face isn’t bleeding.”

“What?”

“Please!” she pleaded, rocking slowly onto the balls of her feet, her knees resting against the ground with the barest pressure.

He obliged, his fingers coming away a little sandy, but dry. “Okay, I’m not bleeding. Now what?”

“Now go stand by that tree,” breathed Marinette, pulling a dagger about the length of her forearm from her baldric with her left hand. It glistened in the light of the foxfire too, much cleaner than her saber, which was coated in grime from their journey. Her back burned as she moved, muscles stinging where claws had torn through. “And maybe cover your ears.”

“What—” he started to ask, but Marinette lunged before he could finish, slashing the smoke cat’s parrying swipe with a backhanded twist of the dagger, what would have been a clean slice turning ragged at its recoil. Screaming in pain and fury, the smoke cat reared backwards, momentarily bipedal as it lurched away from a low thrust of the saber. Marinette swore as, having committed to the attack, she stumbled forward, losing precious seconds regaining her balance.

She struck again with the dagger, carving another piece of the smoke cat’s forelimb away. Tatters of bloodied skin and flesh dangled like ribbons from the joint of its wrist, and Marinette saw the white flash of sinew as it continued to hammer feverishly against her. She rolled her own wrist, securing her grip on the saber for another attack, eyes flicking to Adrien to make sure he was safe.

He hadn’t moved to the tree.

…She had gotten a little too used to people following her orders.

She let out a frustrated huff of breath as she rammed the saber forward and upwards, into what would have been the smoke cat’s ribcage—if it hadn’t sprung over her head.

It twisted acrobatically in the air above her, dripping gore across her outstretched arms, and landed on all four paws, only for its front right to collapse under the strain. It didn’t cry out, but the dulling of its eyes betrayed the pain. Marinette flashed it a fierce, victorious grin, daring it to attack again.

The smaller smoke cat, the one they had first seen, was now at the larger’s back, and was watching with wide yellow eyes, kneading at the branch it was perched on with eager claws that looked more like talons against the pale wood.

Marinette swore again, taking a pace to the right to get between the smoke cats and Adrien, who was watching somewhat anxiously, unwilling to cower but unsure how to help.

“There’s too much blood,” she told him, voice strained. “There’ll be more.”

“More blood?” asked Adrien, audibly gulping.

“More smoke cats,” she corrected. “Any of them that can smell it. They frenzy. Like sharks.”

“At least they’re not like eels,” he muttered. She heard him shift behind her, but couldn’t afford to turn around and see what he was doing.

Her shirt was sticking to her back as the blood soaked through the fabric, and her baldric sat heavily against the edge of one wound, chafing the broken skin. It’s just pain, Marinette reminded herself, settling lower into her fighting stance, it’s just your body complaining. She buried the sensation in the back of her mind, focusing instead on the memory of Adrien’s touch, gentle and soothing. Her heart was still beating frantically in her chest, but her breathing was deep and even. Panic and adrenaline made for clumsy mistakes, which she could ill afford.

The smoke cat tried to circle her, but as it moved she lunged once again, unwilling to make Adrien a closer target, even if the smoke cat wouldn’t attack him. It leapt onto its hind legs as she approached, surging forward with its claws splayed wide.

They met over the bare patch of foxfire where its initial pounce had landed her, the already disturbed leaf litter flying under their feet as they collided. Rather than using her saber, she pressed her advantage, slamming into the smoke cat with the full weight of her body. It yowled at the unexpected move, and they tumbled to the ground with their arms on either side of one another.

Marinette’s saber was jarred from her grip as her elbow hit the ground, but she kept a hold of the dagger, which had buried itself partway in the ground. As she yanked it free a spurt of flame burst into life, and she and the smoke cat instinctively rolled away from it, putting her saber out of her reach.

The smoke cat was slashing uselessly at her shoulder with its ruined paw, its left pinioned between them. As they rolled it managed to work it free, immediately scouring the side of her arm. Marinette bit down on the scream, forcing the pain away again; her left arm still worked, that was all that mattered. They stopped rolling as the flame spurt died, the smoke cat pinning her with its weight, snapping awkwardly as it tried to work its neck into a manageable position to rip out her throat.

With all the strength she could muster lying on her back, Marinette slammed the dagger in her hand into the smoke cat’s stomach.

It choked above her, yellow eyes widening as it wrenched away, taking the dagger with it. She struggled under its weight, still pinned, her right arm burning and numb all at once, her left still free. She pounded its side with a fist, trying to find the hilt of her dagger without being able to see it. The smoke cat reared its head back like a serpent poised to strike, and Marinette reached up to squeeze its ruined forearm, trying to loosen its hold as its teeth flashed above her.

There was a horribly wet tearing sound, and suddenly everything was hot and coppery and dark, and she couldn’t breathe—

“Marinette!” Adrien’s voice broke through, hoarse from stress and their earlier misadventures in the snow sand. The weight of the smoke cat vanished abruptly, and suddenly she could breathe again, and see again, and Adrien was kneeling over her and his hands were covered in blood, and he looked so distressed that it might well have been his.

“Please,” he was saying, begging, and she blinked up at him, “please, Marinette—”

“What?” she whispered, struggling into a sitting position, pushing herself up with her left hand, mindful of her wounded back. “What is it? Are you alright?”

He relaxed immediately, closing his eyes as he let out a shuddering breath. He bowed his head to press against her hand, which he clutched with both of his, and through the icy coldness of her fingers she felt the warmth of his breath.

“Am I hurt,” he murmured into her palm. “You’re lying on the ground, half ripped to shreds, and you ask if I’m hurt.”

“Are you?” she pressed, anxiously, fingers flexing weakly against him. She could feel the agonizing burn in her upper arm, but if she compartmentalized it, she wouldn’t be able to feel his hands around hers.

“I’m fine,” said Adrien, a little miserably. “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life, but I’m not actually injured.”

She looked around, piecing together what had happened as she scooped up a handful of dirt and began rubbing it vigorously into her wounds. The smoke cat lay a few feet away, her saber buried in its ribs, the smaller smoke cat cautiously circling as it tried to decide whether or not to approach the carcass.

Adrien had recovered the saber while she was pinned.

Adrien had saved her.

“Thank you,” she told him, looking back to find him frowning at her arm.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, ignoring her gratitude. She grabbed another fistful of mulch and rubbed it into the fabric of her shirt itself. “You’re going to get an infection!”

“Better than bleeding to death,” she countered with a breathy laugh. “Besides—we can’t walk around here reeking of blood.”

“Oh,” said Adrien, releasing her hand and getting to his feet, moving behind her, “the frenzying.”

“Right,” she said, fighting not to twitch as he began to press dirt into the wounds at her back. “That smoke cat should distract them for now.”

Adrien made an unpleasant noise in the back of his throat, dusting off his hands as best he could and standing back up. He helped Marinette to her feet more delicately than strictly necessary, steadying her with a hand against the small of her back. She rolled her eyes at him fondly, earning a broad wink in return.

Adrien set about dislodging her saber and dagger while Marinette scrounged up some lichen from a nearby tree, scrubbing halfheartedly at the drying blood on her uninjured skin.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Adrien asked softly, returning to her side with blades in hand. He’d wiped them somewhat clumsily on the fur of the dead smoke cat, but it was enough that she could clean them with the lichen and sheathe the dagger. “We can rest a while.”

“I’ll be alright,” she promised, smiling up at him as reassuringly as she could. “Besides, I don’t want to wait around and watch them cannibalize each other—or be stuck here when it gets dark. We should keep going.”

“Alright,” he murmured, eyes lingering on her injuries. His eyes were duller than usual, though not as dull as they had been when she’d first seen him that morning. He looked sick and scared and haunted, and it pulled at Marinette’s heart in unexpected ways.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” she said, stepping in closer and wrapping her arms around his waist. She pressed her face into his chest, breathing in the smell of him, avoiding his eyes with renewed guilt. Was she ever going to stop breaking his heart?

He leaned his forehead against the top of her head, arms hovering carefully over hers to avoid her injuries. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t—that I didn’t—I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”

“Could too,” she mumbled into his shirt, rubbing her nose playfully under his vest. “That would have gone much worse without you, Adrien.”

“I’m still sorry,” he said.

“Me too.”

They walked in silence for a time, Adrien taking the lead now that Marinette was injured, following her directions through the swamp. They were filthy and exhausted, but Marinette hadn’t been so optimistic in years; they were together again. Nothing could stop them if they were together.

They reached the edge of the fire swamp in the early evening, before the sky darkened but after the temperature had cooled, and together breathed a sigh of relief. The trees began to thin, and the reek of the marsh gas dissipated, and the world seemed somehow lighter in the balmy air.

“My ship is waiting in the bay,” said Marinette with a weary smile. “Admittedly I was planning on going around, but we did alright, all things considered. Didn’t we?”

“We lived,” he acceded, laughing faintly. He was swaying on his feet, still staring at her like she was the only thing he wanted to look at. Her smile widened, and she leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek.

“Excuse me!”

They sprang apart at the sharp shriek, Marinette pointing her saber automatically at the shrill sound, Adrien reaching instinctively for a sword at his empty belt. Marinette, searching for the source of the noise, found herself facing a small army, headed by two very fine women, in very fine dress, on very fine horses.

The first, evidently the originator of the scream, was sitting sidesaddle on an enormous white stallion, and looked absolutely furious. Her long blonde hair was pulled into an elegant braid, her blue eyes were flashing with rage and indignation, and her lily pale hands were clutching the reins so hard her knuckles were white as bone. She wore a dress of loose, flowing gold that accented the color of her hair, and shone in the sunlight against her horse’s fur. Even in this alien setting, she looked like the princess she was.

The second was significantly calmer; the only indication of displeasure was her pursed, painted lips, and a disdainful light in her eyes. Where the first woman’s face was soft and even naïve under her fury, this second woman was sharp and keen and intelligent. Marinette perceived more of her countenance than her outfit, registering only that she wore browns and reds, practical breeches, and leather gloves over six-fingered hands.

“You’re excused,” said Marinette to the first woman with a genial smile. She did not lower her blade. Her free arm (the injured one) snaked around Adrien’s waist, drawing him closer to her side protectively.

The Princess’s eyes bulged. “That happens to be my fiancé you’ve got your grubby little hands on!”

“Oh, really?” drawled Marinette. “And here I’d scooped him off a bloodthirsty crowd of criminals. I would expect one to keep a better eye on their fiancé than that, wouldn’t you?”

“Surrender,” hissed Chloé from her seat, face beginning to turn red. “Or prepare to die.”

Marinette laughed. “Die,” she said back, her left hand flexing around the saber’s hilt, “Or prepare to surrender.”

She heard more than saw the archers taking up a flanking position; the sound of crossbows cocking was unmistakable, even over the distant sounds of the fire swamp. Beside her, Adrien was looking around wildly, but Marinette kept her eyes trained on the Princess, watching the Countess in her peripheral vision.

“I will not repeat myself again,” said the Princess, in her shrill, angry voice, “Surrender!”

“Nor will I,” said Marinette, “Die!”

“Wait!” yelled Adrien beside her, his voice cracking at the sudden volume. Everyone—Pirate, Princess, and Countess alike—stopped and looked at him. His face was drawn with anxiety, his scab from the eels crusting over, particles of sand still dusting his scalp—and, as ever, he was beautiful.

“For what?” demanded the Princess, scowling down at him.

“Will you—will you promise not to hurt her?” croaked Adrien.

“What?” asked Chloé.

“What?” asked the Countess.

“What?” asked Marinette.

“If we surrender,” he clarified, licking his lips, “if I go back with you, will you promise not to hurt her?”

“She kidnapped you!” said Chloé, gaping between them.

“She rescued me,” he corrected. He leaned further against Marinette’s side, his warmth radiating throughout her—almost enough to thaw the chill of her disbelief. “Please, Your Highness—we were children together, and she means a great deal to me, and I ask your mercy. As—as thanks, for my safe return.”

Chloé frowned down at him, looking Marinette over as if trying to come up with a way to articulate her disgust.

“The Princess is not renowned for her mercy,” said the Countess, raising one eyebrow.

“All the more reason to exercise it here,” said Adrien. The desperation in his voice was palpable. “It’s—it’s a great story, isn’t it? The noble princess following her fiancé across the channel, rewarding his rescuer? The commoners would think so highly of you, Your Highness.”

Chloé looked pensive. “They would love that,” she mused, smiling faintly.

“There’s a hitch,” Marinette interjected, heart pounding in her chest. “You can’t very well bring me along, Adrien. I’m a pirate.” To say nothing of the romantic competition she so obviously posed.

“You’ll be safe,” said Adrien. “They’ll get you some medical attention. You will, won’t you?” He turned pleading green eyes to Chloé, swallowing thickly. “Promise?”

“Of course,” she said primly. “We wouldn’t want our dashing friend here to succumb to her injuries.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes.

“They’ll take you back to your ship, and—and grant you a pardon,” Adrien continued, looking back to Marinette. He looked so scared. “You’ll be safe.”

“And what about you?” she asked softly. “You’ll go back to Florin City and marry the Princess? We’re speaking of love, here.”

“I can live without love,” said Adrien. He pulled away from her grip, crossing the short gap to Chloé’s side. She helped him climb in the saddle behind her, smiling primly, her earlier rage vanished.

“See to it that her wounds are tended immediately,” she bade the Countess.

“Of course, Your Highness,” said the Countess, bowing her head respectfully.

“I thank you for the return of my fiancé,” said Chloé to Marinette, her eyes flashing so smugly and victoriously that Marinette felt like the smoke cat she and Adrien had defeated earlier. “You are of course invited to the wedding.”

They rode away, most of the horsemen following in their wake.

Adrien didn’t look back.

Marinette’s shoulders slumped as she watched them go, all the fight running out of her, her heart chasing after the fading silhouette of everything she’d ever wanted.

“Well now,” said the Countess, her sharp voice piercing Marinette’s reverie like a blade. “Come along. We must return you to your ship.”

“Spare me at least your lies,” said Marinette, rolling her eyes. “You’ve about as little intention to return me as I have to buy them a wedding present.”

“Truth, then,” said the Countess, spurring her horse forward a few paces, so that Marinette had to tilt her head back to keep her eye. The black and tan hounds swarmed around them, some whimpering excitedly. “I hope you enjoyed your time in the Guilderian Fire Swamp. I guarantee you that you’ll soon look back on it fondly as a deeply relaxing experience.”

“Are nobles naturally this dramatic, or do you have to take a class?” Marinette asked innocently.

The Countess gave an audible sigh, and clubbed Marinette with the pommel of her sword.

Her vision swam, and Marinette swayed on her feet and crumbled backwards into darkness.

#miraculous ladybug #clare's writing #the dread pirate ladybug

[episims]

Household: Root

Back to Foxfire! And we're starting off with a household that definitely needs a proper recap.

During the last round, Judi gave birth to Casper, and later on, he grew up into a toddler.

Then Judi was informed that her mother had passed away and bequeathed a majority of their family's wealth to Judi and Jonas.

Jonas was quick to refuse his part of the inheritance. Judi on the other hand was willing to take the money but knew the arrangements were going to force her to travel.

So Judi asked Jonas to move together with her and look after Casper while she was away. Jonas agreed that it'd be the best for Casper but hesitated with the decision, as he wasn't sure if Judi's place was really where he wanted to move.

As for my own thoughts, I'm not thrilled to write about off-screen characters dying. This hood doesn't need any more drama! But, I felt like I didn't have much choice in this case. Would've been weird to keep insisting that Judi and Jonas come from a newly rich family but never acknowledge what happened to that fortune.

#ts2 #ts2 gameplay #the sims 2 #the sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #foxfire forest #playing foxfire forest #foxfire forest summary #judith root #jonas root #casper root #i guess writing it in offered some sort of closure for jonas too #he deserves as much

[episims]

Household: Storm

The last time, Troy started to feel his age with running two businesses and transferred the ownership of Foxfire clinic to Vera, who was happy to take it over. He also promoted Deanna to be the fish shop's manager and gave her permission to renovate it (within the budget).

Cia grew up and found a match for her finicky taste in art, but didn't hate helping her mother at the clinic either. Paloma got a part-time job from school, which she topped almost instantly.

#ts2 #ts2 gameplay #the sims 2 #the sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #foxfire forest #playing foxfire forest #foxfire forest summary #veronica storm #paloma storm #alicia storm #troy knowles #damn this whole family is actually doing very well

[episims]

Household: Fare

During the last round, Julian gave birth to Aurora, who later reached toddlerhood. Julian and Cloud both had quite a lot of adapting to do with being responsible for a child, and didn't survive completely without clashes either – especially as Julian had a habit of forgetting that he's the one on parental leave.

Since then, the town doctor Vera noted that Aurora's speech development is slightly delayed, but wasn't worried about it. While having trouble with forming sentences, Aurora is adept at imitating singular words.

Their house has gone through a minor renovation, as it wasn't very practical to have the two bedrooms directly connected. The pro of living in a building made from containers is that changing the layout is just a matter of cutting metal.

#ts2 #ts2 gameplay #the sims 2 #the sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #foxfire forest #playing foxfire forest #foxfire forest summary #julian fare #aurora fare #cloud hampton #it's been a real life year since i last played them! #feels so weird #they usually have an earlier spot in the rotation #but for this round all the birthdays laid down the order for me

[episims]

Household: Wells

During the previous round, Lillian grew up to a teen, Esther got promoted to judge, and Erika was busy tending the garden for the prime growing season.

Tristan continued being lovey-dovey with his sweetheart Elise and Darius continued being disgusted by them (even though he then wasn't disgusted by kissing Felix).

Manu enjoyed good food and good sleep. He expressed his happiness by affectionately pushing his big head onto his owners' laps and drooling.

This household is MASSIVE in terms of the number of sims, relationships, and special days. I gave up on trying to compromise, so I hope some of you will enjoy all the extra posts.

#ts2 #ts2 gameplay #the sims 2 #the sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #foxfire forest #playing foxfire forest #foxfire forest summary #lillian wells #erika leaf #tristan wells #darius wells #esther wells #manu the dog #manu really has it all covered #if you're preparing popcorn please don't give him any #he eats anything but it's not good for his belly

[episims]

Household: Fletcher

During the last round, Cedric and Melody got married! They didn't move together, though – why bother when their houses are right next to each other. They both appreciate their independence, too.

Shay grew up to an adult and found out he's rather good at uh... casting illusions. A handy little trick, especially as he happened to be curious about what others carry in their pockets.

And Atty got bullied by a local wolf :( he could use some of his human partner's magic skills too.

#ts2 #ts2 gameplay #the sims 2 #the sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #foxfire forest #playing foxfire forest #foxfire forest summary #cedric fletcher #shay d'airelle #atticus the dog #this household will be a shorter one #i was so confused that this is how playing two sims feels like #after all the household with 4 or 5 sims #i even had time to breathe can you imagine

[episims]

Household: Hale

We're back on track! The last time, Paige and Talia grew up, Deanna turned down Esther's persistent attempts to hire her as an assistant, and Tess kept her position as a featured actor, which doesn't pay out enough to afford a pool, but at least their house loan slowly shrinks.

That's it. This is my official chilling household. It's chill.

#ts2 #ts2 gameplay #the sims 2 #the sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #foxfire forest #playing foxfire forest #foxfire forest summary #deanna shorey #teresa hale #paige shorey #talia shorey #my plantsims do seem younger than they are by purpose #and tess doesn't age much at all #but deanna appears ageless just because she's deanna

[episims]

Household: Reed

During the last round, Emil reached childhood, Ruby was promoted to Elite Operative, and Sara decided not to apply to college.

A bit in between the lines there, Becca hired Irida as the marine biologist that the military had been searching for (more or less to stop Cloud from constantly requesting one). Ruby was excited to meet a real mersim, too.

Tbh I feel a bit conflicted about Sara not going to college. She has decent grades and the ambitious trait, and this family has gotten pretty middle-class by now, too.

But I see Sara as the kind of popularity sim who's not as much about being popular (although she wouldn't mind that either), but to whom friends are what really matters. So I just can't imagine her moving away from Felix and Daphne voluntarily! And with that, I'll justify her staying lol.

#ts2 #ts2 gameplay #the sims 2 #the sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #foxfire forest #playing foxfire forest #foxfire forest summary #becca thorne #ruby reed #emil reed #sara reed

[episims]

Household: Storm

Last time Paloma grew up into a responsible young lady. She fits right in this family of hard workers but let me say that she's def not the most popular teen around. Maybe her age-mates just don't get her old soul?

That's what you get with a nice personality around here I guess. This is a neighborhood of bullies so Cia just might do better than her sister, as she's soon going to be a teenager as well.

#ts2 #ts2 gameplay #the sims 2 #the sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 #sims 2 gameplay #foxfire forest #playing foxfire forest #foxfire forest summary #paloma storm #alicia storm #veronica storm #troy knowles #cia will also be the last new teen of this round #it feels like everyone are growing so fast! #in reality it's been over 2 rl years since she was born lol