#Is now sent to a small rural town | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kqutie · 2 months ago

Text

EPIC: THE FAIR MAIDEN (not so platonic ver.)

CHAPTER ONE : THE SECOND MIRACLE

relations. : platonic various epic characters/reader -- platonic odysseus/reader ; polities/reader ; platonic eurylochus/reader ; platonic odysseus' crew/reader

chpt. sum. : you settle down for a game of animal crossing but faint and wake up in the EPIC: The Musical universe.

tags. : EPIC x ACNH ; reader is a comfort gamer ; female reader ; pure comfort ; reader helps ody get home ; happy ending for everyone! ; isekai and transmigration ; fix it fic ; animal crossing new horizons game mechanics ; characters know their future

length. : 5.5k

a/n : this is very unserious but is meant to be pure comfort. This is also pretty self-indulgent and is the result of my current obsession with EPIC: The Musical. I'm sad it's over but am happy to add to the fandom and make a place for myself in it (❀' ˘ '❀) I hope you darlings have a fun time reading!

navi. | series m.list

Pulling away from your phone, you sigh in content and stretch. EPIC: The Musical had become an obsession of yours and now that it was complete, you were delving into fanmade content; a mix of animatics, fanart and fanfiction. You had just finished reading a fanfic of the characters reacting to their future via the musical before it ever happens. The final chapter ends with all the characters returning to their original places in the universe, eager to avoid the mistakes they have just witnessed leading to their demise and Odysseus' change from man to monster.

Before they could be sent back, Odysseus took a moment to lovingly bid his beloved Penelope and only son, Telemachus goodbye while the gods pledge not to interfere with his journey home as long as he doesn't make the same mistakes. If they should encounter each other again, they will not be courteous and everything will unfold as it had been told to them in the musical.

The ending left you with a feeling of hope. In the universe of that fanfic, Odysseus will know what to do for a brighter future and you have full confidence in him fulfilling that �� he is the warrior of the mind, after all.

It was still rather cold outside and leading into the evening, you were eager to bundle up in your giant beanbag chair with a blanket to play your favourite comfort game: Animal Crossing: New Horizons. First things first, however, you float into the kitchen to brew some tea and prepare a small plate of snacks. You have a lot of plans for your gaming session tonight. Your island was going under a huge revamp. For your new aesthetic, you're leaning into a cottage-core theme, something rustic with flourishing wildlife, trees, flowers and beaten paths. You were going to miss your fun, rural town island but you're very excited about the cosy vibes a countryside theme would bring. You're sure the change will only elevate the cosiness of the game.

It was going to be a huge undertaking but you've paid all your loans, gathered all the recipes, furniture and miscellaneous items, played the DLC, unlocked everything there is to unlock, collected all the fish, bugs and art to display in the museum, and you have an island full of villagers you adore. Revamping the island is the most exciting thing you can do now that you've played the game to the fullest. Hence why you were preparing your favourite snacks to have with your best blend of tea. Even though you've technically 'completed' the game, you're still eager to play it over and over again.

When you were finally curled up in your huge beanbag, wrapped in your fluffiest blanket with your tea and snacks on the side table, all you had left to do was put something on in the background; naturally, you chose the 'EPIC' soundtrack. You were obsessed.

Hopping into your island, you begin by erasing all your previous terraforming and rearranging your rivers and lakes. Everything you wanted to include had been planned out beforehand, all your new island decorative pieces were ready in your storage and you had your iPad with your mood board and notes showcasing your detailed plans at your side as well. Everything was going as planned. Your character was also wearing the perfect custom-designed dress for the occasion. It's a long, flowing white sundress with blue accents that you've paired with the cutest white platform heels. It always makes you giggle to see your character wearing the construction hat with such a cute dress — it adds so much charm.

As 'Polyphemus' begins to play, you shudder and press your lips into a thin line. This is the point where everything begins to change for Odysseus and your heart drops every time. However, you're reminded of the recent fanfic you read and hope the author takes the time to write a follow-up where the characters change their fates for the better. You adore them all so much; you want everyone to have their happy endings, especially Odysseus.

Focusing back on your island, you're finally happy with the layout and bring out your wooden shed to begin decorating, pulling things directly from your storage. However, where the storage menu should be showing, there's only a black screen.

"What's happening?" you ask yourself and press the buttons of your Nintendo switch randomly, confused at the suddenly unresponsive screen, "I thought this was fully charged...?" just as you begin to manoeuvre out of your curled-up seating, a sudden lightheadedness washes over you, making your eyes squint in confusion before you're finally pulled into the same darkness as your screen.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Odysseus etches the image of his wife and son's faces into the forefront of his mind. They've been his anchor throughout the ten-year war with Troy and now that they've won and are on their way back home, he needs them more than anything —especially now that he knows the potential future ahead. Determined to avoid such anguish, Odysseus, commands his entire fleet to avoid following the birds despite their dwindling food stores. Having also witnessed their potential future, his men readily oblige.

It was comforting to see that his bond with the crew had not suffered in the aftermath of the blessing they were witnesses to. Rather, they were moved by his struggles and his vengeance against Posideon, honouring every member with six hundred strikes. Their captain had made a god bleed for them, they dare not betray such a man. The musical was a moving epic that gave them the exact map to avoid if they wanted to reach home safely.

"I'll make it home soon, I promise," Odysseus promised his loving wife, remembering the love and worry in her beautiful eyes. They were the same eyes he had fallen for, soaked in a familiar affection that only seemed to grow after witnessing their potential future. Nothing had changed. She still loved him and that was a huge comfort.

"I know... I love you," he replies with a searing kiss, desperate and messy after ten years apart. Pulling away, he looks fondly at his son who looks at him with admiration and love thinly veiled by worry. Looking at Telemachus felt like looking into a mirror, all except for the eyes he shared with his mother. His son had the same head of wild hair as his own, the same strong nose and straight brows as his own.

"I don't want you to go yet..." there were unshed tears in his son's quiet plea and Odysseus had to pull his ten-year-old son into a bone-crushing hug.

"I won't be long. I know what to do now. I'll get home soon," Odysseus promises into his son's crown and presses a firm kiss through his brown curls. Pulling away, he stares fondly into Telemachus' eyes, his beautiful son. Had he ever seen a boy so perfect before? Only his wife could create such beauty and perfection, "Take care of your mother while I'm away,"

Telemachus launches himself into his father's arms once again, burying his face into his strong shoulder, "Always, father,"

That final interaction has been replaying in Odysseus' mind ever since he returned to the boat he and his crew had suddenly been swept away from. It felt like so much time had passed but they were returned to the exact location and time they were first taken from. What an experience that had been. A blessing and a curse all at once. To bear witness to such a horrific future was harrowing but Odysseus would take it as a lesson learned. He won't risk the life of his best friends nor his crew ever again. They had survived the war against Troy, all 600 of them; they should be able to return home unharmed.

"Odysseus, my friend," Polites' familiar voice calls to him, bright and merry but with a heavy weight upon it. He understands the reason without needing to ask.

"Polities," they greet each other with a smile, "I know you're worried about our stores but we can survive without them until we find another island," Polities doesn't protest but nods in understanding. There's a pause that stretches on but not in discomfort. The two merely absorb the moment, comforted by the knowledge that they have avoided a massive turning point in their journey.

"We are here for you, my friend. All I wanted was to make that clear," Polites looks at the crew rowing at the paddles, keeping a leisurely pace. "We are loyal to you, our captain, who has led us to victory after ten years," Odysseus smiles and nods demurely at his best friend in silent appreciation, "that future has not happened yet, nor will it ever happen. I know that you will make sure of that."

"If the crew should ever act up, we will be there," Eurylachous steps up to the two of them with a somewhat hesitant air, his posture stiff. Events of the mutiny he led against his brother-in-law and friend had not been able to leave his mind ever since his first viewing. The tall second commander shudders to think of himself ever becoming the shrivelled-up, hungry, desperate and vengeful man who dared go against the captain he had first betrayed by opening the windbag. He was determined to avoid such a fate. What a sorry fool he had turned out to be. It was unbecoming and he had since been congested with guilt.

Odysseus and Eurylochus silently take in the other. Eurylachous with a boulder of guilt in the pit of his stomach as Odysseus wears an unreadable expression. They were supposed to be brothers, friends, comrades. The people they had become in that future were not them now, and it will never be them. Ctimene's face appears in his mind. They share a similar goal; to return home, to the wives they adore and had fought the grueling war for.

The tension is broken by Odysseus who brings his arms up to wrap around their shoulders and pull them close, "Thank you, my friends," All three share a smile and savour the bond they share. It was one they valued all the more now that they knew of their potential fates, and it was a bond they were unwilling to sever. If they could make it out of Troy victorious after ten years of conflict, they could easily protect each other and the friendship they share. "We will make it home. I swear it."

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

It had been several days and yet, there was no island on the horizon, meaning no food to hunt and feed his men. Odysseus' mind was reeling. This cannot be. Surely there would be some kind of island they could set anchor nearby. After taking the proper steps to avoid the worst future they could possibly think of, had Odysseus inadvertently condemned his men to a much more painful and agonising fate? Slowly, his men across all 12 ships had stopped rowing; they no longer had the energy. And the winds were close to nonexistent, providing no aide to his fleet's sails. Should they have docked at the Cyclops' island anyway but made a proper plan to steal the sheep instead? But that was too high of a risk, and everyone agreed that it was not worth it. What tragic luck was this? Was his crew doomed to never return home alive with him as their captain? Was the miracle they were blessed with a waste, now that he had given the wrong command?

A headache begins to hammer at his temples and Odysseus groans, the rumbling in his stomach and the painful ache rippling from it was unquenchable. The image of his hauntingly starved self and crew flashes in his mind. The world seemed determined to make him suffer, though there was no god to blame; he had given the command to avoid the Cyclops' island altogether — this was his fault.

"Captain!" Elpenor's— their youngest crew member —shout brings him out of his spiralling thoughts and directs his, as well as everyone's attention to a wooden structure that had suddenly appeared on their boat.

"What is that?"

"This wasn't in that musical,"

"How did it get on our ship?"

Looking around, it appears as though this was unique to their ship only as none of the other 11 ships were causing the same chaotic murmuring as the one Odysseus was aboard. Of course. It had to be the captain's ship this strange phenomenon occurs on.

"It has a door, should we look inside?" Polites comments, reaching for the handle only to be stopped by Odysseus.

"Let me open it," he turns to everyone else and loudly commands that they step back and prepare for what may come from opening the door. After taking a slow breath in and slowly releasing, Odysseus finally flings the door back and jumps to the side as a body falls in a heap at his feet.

The crowd circle the figure and are shocked to find a woman. She looks foreign with clothes they have never seen before. Where had she come from? Odysseus looks back at the slim wooden structure to find it already closed. Polites was the first to kneel beside her, cradling her head and gently urging the strange woman awake.

"Polites, step away from her!" Odysseus commands as Eurylochus unsheaths his large sword and prepares for a potential threat.

"She looks harmless, Captain,"

"That's no excuse to let your guard down," Odysseus snaps, flashes of another dark future playing in his mind. Had avoiding one grizzly fate led to another, darker one?

Polities gives him a judging look, "Open arms, Captain," his best friend wasn't getting the point. Although Odysseus was appreciative of his friend's boundless optimism, he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Just keep your distance, we don't know how much of a threat she is until she's awake. And if she is a threat, you'll be the first in her way of attack!" Odysseus' words don't even allow a single drop of doubt to taint Polites' determined stare.

"Wait look! She's waking up!" Eurylochus points his sword and gets into a familiar, battle stance, ready to pounce.

"Polities! Get. Back!"

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Groaning, you turn away from the harsh lighting shining down on you and nuzzle into a comforting warmth.

"It's alright, Captain," a distant voice assures, the shouting that follows only pushing you into the comfortable warmth further, unknowing of the effect your innocent action has on the individual currently holding your head in his lap. "She means no harm," you then feel gentle pats over your head as the same kind voice urges you awake, "Hey there... can you wake up for us?"

Propelled to respect the kind and gentle stranger's request, you brave against the harsh sun and will your eyes open. Blinking rapidly, you adjust to the world around you as you're helped to a sitting position. You part your lips to ask what's going on but no sound comes out and your confusion is evident on your face.

"Hi there," a warm face greets you, pushing away the confusion and worry at your sudden muteness. Gazing at the man before you, you can't help but lean in with interest. His face feels familiar and you're drawn to the curiosity of it. He wears square glasses and adorns rich, chestnut curls that fall over a headband. His skin is sunkissed and a little sunken into his angular bone structure, which makes you worry slightly, he doesn't look healthy at all. He looks starved. "Uhh.." Polites smiles shyly as you reach up to cup his cheek with furrowed brows, "My name is Polites, can you tell us who you are, fair maiden?"

You finally register the murmurs surrounding you and mutely gasp when you realise you're surrounded by a circle of men, dressed in clothes typical of ancient Greek times. Everyone had the same sunken, unhealthy appearance as Polites. What was happening?

"My friend asked you a question. Answer him at once!" a cold metal touches the underside of your chin and you're forced to look up the body of a large sword and into the eyes of another recognisable figure. Eurylochus.

This can't be...

Shaking your head in disbelief and denial of the situation, you fall back into Polites' arms, who sternly waves away his dark-skinned friend. "Sheath your sword, friend, she means no harm..." Polites' arms circle you but he doesn't pull you further into him, leaving space for breath between your body and his own. It was more comforting than you anticipated as you press your face into his shoulder, trying to deny the reality you were in right now. "Captain, Odysseus, please,"

A sigh draws your attention away from Polites' shoulder and towards a broad-shouldered man with bronze skin, dark, wavy hair and an imposing air of confidence and charm about him. Distinguishing him from the rest, he wears a purple cloak that's secured with a gold pin on his shoulder; he's the captain. Odysseus. Are you in the EPIC: The Musical Universe? Is this a dream?

"...if she meant to do harm, she would have done so already. Sheath your sword, friend," Odysseus nods towards Eurylochus' sword.

"Yes Captain," the second in command readily complies.

Finally breathing in relief, you turn back to Polites and take his hand into both of yours to shake happily in greeting. The solid feeling on his hand makes this feel less and less like a dream, which makes you all the happier that they don't see you as a threat anymore. Otherwise, you would have become fish food. However, dream or reality, you were going to live this to the fullest as an EPIC fan. Your actions make the crowd release the tension in their shoulders. A handshake is a sign of peace and shows the absence of a weapon in one's hands; Polites was right to believe in your innocence.

"Haha! See, Captain?" Polites smiles at Odysseus, who shakes his head in disbelief but smiles regardless. Trust Polites, to make such quick friends, "May we know your name?" Polites asks after returning his attention to you. Frowning sadly, you shake your head and tap against your throat. You go as far as to part your lips and attempt to speak but nothing comes out. "Can you... can you not talk?"

You shake your head in confirmation and miss the sadness shared between the men surrounding you both. "How should we address you then?" Odysseus asks aloud and you shrug your shoulders. You don't really mind how they refer to you, so long as it wasn't hurtful.

"As long as it's of no offence to you, can we call you by any name?" Polites asks, to which you readily nod and he smiles before thinking deeply, "How about we refer to you as fair maiden? It's simple and you're the only maiden here so, everyone will easily know it's you," without complaints, you nod and hear a murmur of the nickname amongst the group make its rounds; the crew testing the name for themselves. It makes you smile shyly. Although you love the main characters, you always adored the background vocals of the crew and to hear their murmurings was a little flustering.

"How did you get here? Do you know?" Odysseus takes a knee beside you and you try not to look visibly awestruck by the closeness, "You fell out of that thing," the captain points towards a familiar, slim wooden shed. It looks exactly like the shed you failed to access the contents of before you blacked out on Animal Crossing. Curiously, you stand and make your way over to the shed, the crowd parting and staring with interest as you do so.

Opening the door, a familiar storage menu screen finally reveals itself to you. And it's full to the brim with all of your collected items from Animal Crossing. From the curious but unruffled looks in the crowd surrounding you, it doesn't seem as though they can see the storage screen and you immediately close the shed door to shake your head 'no' at Odysseus, who looks disappointed but has no choice but the accept the unsatisfactory news. However, his expression lightens when his eyes drift upwards.

The Captain turns to his men and sends them to their stations at the oars, "Follow those birds, no matter how far they may lead us, it will be towards land. We have another mouth to feed so full speed ahead!" his words make your eyes widen and rush forward with your arms outstretched, waving your hands side to side and shaking your head — a clear expression against his command. In the distance, you can tell that Odysseus' fleet is still composed of its full 12 ships so he will be leading them to Polyphemus' island, where everything will take a turn for the worst and you don't think you're capable of going through such horrors first hand.

Odysseus narrows his eyes at you, "What do you mean 'no'?" he pauses for thought, "...do you know about the Cyclops too?" you're shocked at his words. How could he know about the Cyclops if he has yet to set foot on the island? And if he's already done so, why was Polites still alive?

You nod slowly. You do know about the Cyclops...

"We're long past the Cyclops' island, days past it, in fact," he looks at you with caution, "...how do you know about the Cyclops?" Naturally, being unable to speak, you can't explain your circumstances articulately but that was no longer satisfactory for the captain. Odysseus looks you up and down, taking in the unusual attire clothing you. It doesn't look like any garments he has ever seen before. It's a beautiful garment he would love to see on his wife but its unfamiliar style raises his suspicions, "What are you doing here? Are you another test from the gods? They promised not to interfere with my journey home unless I make the same mistakes as in that musical's future!" your eyes widen at his words and you make the slow realisation that you're not only in the universe of EPIC but specifically in the aftermath of the reaction fanfic you had just finished reading. You remember hoping the author would continue with a series that has the characters taking active steps to avoid their tragic fates.

The hostility being raised against you, from the Captain, no less, didn't bode well, however, so you rush back to your shed. You don't know why you have your animal crossing storage shed but you were going to use it. It may be your only way of expressing your peacefulness without a voice.

Opening the storage once more, you search through the categorised panels and select a basket of bread with your finger. The instant it's selected, the basket of freshly baked bread appears in your arms and you turn to Odysseus with a smile, outstretching the offering as a token of your peaceful intentions.

Odysseus stares at your offering of bread with a dropped jaw, similar to the one Eurylochus was displaying. How could you have been able to store freshly baked bread in such an innocuous structure? It was Polites who jumped forward with a shout of glee, "Fresh bread! My friends, look!" His words draw the attention of the crew from where they're actively rowing the oars. The sight of food makes them stop and slowly approach with grumbling stomachs, eyes wide and mouths watering. The closer they get, the more potent the smell of fresh bread becomes and there's a chorus of grumbling stomachs surrounding you. "Is this for us?" Polites looks at you with a smile that widens when you nod in affirmation.

"Wait! You take the first bite," Eurylochus insists, cautious after witnessing their encounter with Circe. The rest of the crew heed his words and reel back as if subjected to an electric shock. They had almost forgotten the cautionary tale of the musical. Everyone now watches you with judging eyes. Taking no offence, you select a small bun and bite into it with a grin. Everyone around you watches with bated breath but cheers when you swallow and there are no negative side effects. Food! Finally!

"Thank you," Polites nods at you with a grateful smile before distributing the basket to the crew members. Behind him, Odysseus is left speechless but soon meets your eyes with a similarly grateful expression. He and Eurylochous nod in thanks, which you bow in return to. The tension between you had fully evaporated. The crew do their best to evenly ration out the bread but a singular basket won't be enough so you return to your storage shed and bring out more baskets of bread that you have saved up, grateful that cooking recipes was one of your favourite things to do on the game.

"You have more food?" Odysseus voices beside you, suddenly very close and you nod with a bright smile, handing him another basket of fresh, warm bread. It appears as though, no matter how long it's been since you've cooked the recipe, it comes out fresh and warm. You have five baskets of fresh bread circulating amongst the crew now and see if other recipes also come out freshly cooked. With a silent hum, you select the minestrone soup and out comes a deep ceramic bowl with hot, appetising soup filling it to the brim. Like in the game, the portion looks enormous in your hands and looks capable of feeding more than one person. This will go perfectly with the bread and you leave your shed to hand the bowl of soup to a small circle of men sharing a bread basket. They're in awe of your offering and thank you endlessly, eagerly dipping their bread into the soup and savouring the delicious taste of food after days without. With a wide smile, you turn around and reach for Polites, who happily follows you back to your shed to help distribute more bowls of soup.

"How does that thing work?" Eurylochus reaches out to the shed once all the food has been distributed but you quickly block his way and shake your head. Suddenly tense, Eurylochus nods and firmly turns away, his hand safely back at his side, "Understood..." This wasn't a windbag but he wasn't going to make the same, silly mistake as he did in that musical. Never. He's just happy the crew and himself finally have some food to eat, the birds and a distant island without a Cyclops long forgotten.

"Thank you for your help," Odysseus walks up to you with a charming grin that you happily return, a warmth blooming in your chest at being able to help one of your favourite characters get home. Your easygoing, happy nature is very reminiscent of Polites and the Captain finds himself an easy victim to your warm and comforting presence, willing to follow your optimistic nature. Looking back at his smiling, feasting crew, he breathes a sigh of relief and bites into a round loaf he managed to take for himself as the bread baskets made their rounds. "Do you happen to have more food?" he suddenly asks, nervous of your response. "I have 550 more men to feed across eleven other boats," he tilts his head towards the rest of his fleet, closely following his ship. Odysseus was ashamed to ask so much from one person but felt an immense feeling of relief when he turned to see your kind smile and warm gaze. It's as if you were saying 'Of course, I do', eager to offer your help.

"You have more food, fair maiden?" Polites cheers, eagerly volunteering to help escort you onto the other ships for a delivery of food.

You shake your head but hold up a finger, wordlessly asking them to wait patiently. The 50 men of this boat had eaten all of the bread and soup you had stored so you had to make more from the crops and ingredients you had stored. All you needed to do was bring out your small kitchenette. Hopefully, game mechanics still apply when cooking and you'll have enough food to feed the 550 hungry men left of Odysseus' fleet. Returning to your storage, you easily bring out your kitchenette and follow the recipe for making more bread baskets and minestrone soup. It was easy enough, especially after realising that all you needed to access your personal storage without the shed was to think of it and it would readily appear for your eyes only.

While you were hard at work making more bread baskets and soup, you urged Polites, Eurylochus and Odysseus to sit down and eat calmly. They had been watching you the entire time, jaws dropped in awe and eyes gleaming with admiration, their hearts beating with hope and almost brought to tears at being given yet another miracle. They were going to make it home after all!

It took some time to make the first few baskets and soups for about five ships but, by that time the crew had already devoured their share and all eyes were back on you. Feeling shy, you convince them to focus their attention elsewhere by offering dessert via oranges. From living in the modern world, you know all about scurvy so oranges are the perfect fruit to offer; you make a mental note of bringing some oranges with you to the other ships too. The crew were delighted and eagerly devoured the abnormally large oranges you handed them. They were the perfect sweetness and were so juicy, that many who finished their share were left licking the juice from their fingers. They feel thoroughly fed, and, although it was a mere helping of bread, soup and orange, it felt like a feast fit for a king. Odysseus attested to that sentiment.

"Is she a descendant of the Goddess of Harvest? The Goddess Demeter?"

"She must be,"

"No, she was sent to us as a divine intervention. She must have been sent by Hermes."

"But look at the orange she gave us, it's the biggest, most delicious and perfect orange I have ever seen. She must be a descendant of the God of orchards and fruit, Dionysus."

"We are lucky to have her, she must have been sent by the Goddess Tyche of luck."

Many of the crew members begin to speculate your origins, with some raising their voices above the others, their words coming out more clearly. But you were none of those things. You can't even begin to explain how you got here and it isn't as though you could even attempt to voice any kind of explanation. It's quite flattering that they think so highly of you— enough to relate you to the gods and goddesses —but if any good person was capable of offering help then they would do so without regard for what it may cost them. And that was what you were doing. You were only doing what any good person would do. It's just your luck that you happen to have the same skills and itinerary as your ACNH character. The only unfortunate thing is that you were made mute because of it too –at least most seem to understand what you want to say by paying attention to your actions and movements, much like your villagers.

To distract from their high-praising musings, however, you get busy cooking enough food for the 550 other men left to feed, quickly filling up your personal storage after you had emptied it of the decorative pieces you originally wanted to dot around your revamped island. Once finally done, you turn to Odysseus and nod. The captain smiles widely, brushes away the orange juice from his chin and calls for a flag to be raised, signalling for the rest of his fleet to fall in line with his so that you could be escorted safely to deliver food.

"Polites and Eurylochus will escort you. They will also explain your presence to the rest of my men." Odysseus explains as you nod along and gently express that your shed doesn't need to be brought with you. Again, Eurylochus nods and backs away, calling for two men to guard the shed while they make the food delivery. In the distance, you watch the boats easily line up and a wooden plank is provided to bridge the distance between two ships. Just as you are being led away by Polites. Odysseus calls out to you, "Fair maiden," he bows at the waist, the rest of the crew following close after, bowing deeply and sincerely, "Thank you,"

When the crew and Odysseus finally look up, they are greeted by your bright, close-eyed smile and the faint outline of pink and yellow flowers in the air surrounding your face. You're a beauty, a kind embodiment of mercy bestowed upon them in their hour of need and they dare not take you for granted.

navi. | series m.list

next | two : the favourable circumstance

a/n : I hope you darlings enjoyed the read! I'm leaving this small passion project open to continuation as I do have more plans for it (Perimedes and Elpenor will make an appearance in the next chapter, for sure!) but nothing is set for how many chapters that would entail. This series will probably be pretty short but will definitely end happily ٩(^ᗜ^ )و '-

Please feel free to tell me your thoughts and what you may want to see happen. Who knows, I might be inspired to include your own daydreams ヾ(｡✪ω✪｡)ｼ

#epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #epic the musical fanart #epic odysseus #epic polites #epic eurylochus #isekai au #acnh au #reader insert #female reader #epic the musical x you

309 notes · View notes

reiding-writing · 4 months ago

Note

For a Halloweeny fic you could do like a bau!reader and Spencer going to a haunted house while away on a case.. you could make it more fluffy or more a thriller/drama thing, whatever you're feeling like <<3

HAUNTED HOUSE — SPENCER REID!

you and spencer search a ‘haunted’ house, that might actually be haunted.

a/n — a little halloween blurb, thanks for the idea !!

masterlist.

You and Spencer are sent to investigate an old, crumbling house on the outskirts of a small town in rural Illinois, a place that even the locals keep their distance from.

Supposedly, it’s haunted—whispers of creaking floorboards and flickering lights drift around like the dust in its empty rooms. But it was also a likely suspect for where kids kept going missing around the area, so it couldn’t be left unsearched.

Spencer looks slightly pale as he stands beside you, adjusting his flashlight, gaze fixed firmly on the front door like he's trying to psych himself up. He’s heard the rumours too, and you know how superstitious he can get.

“Ready to meet our resident ghost?” you ask, a grin twitching at the corners of your mouth.

Spencer tries to hide a frown. “I don’t believe in ghosts, you know,” he mumbles, a touch of defensiveness in his tone. “But historically, homes like these… well, they do tend to have unusual histories.”

You give him a mock-solemn nod, widening your eyes dramatically. “Right. Unusual histories. Very rational.” And with that, you push open the door, stepping into the cold darkness beyond.

The house is dimly lit, with thick shadows pooling in every corner. Your flashlight beam skims over a musty rug, tarnished wallpaper peeling at the edges, and a cracked mirror that only reflects your flashlight’s weak glow. It’s quiet. Too quiet. You see Spencer shiver slightly as he steps in behind you, his expression determined but slightly uneasy.

You let a silence hang between you, just long enough for him to start looking around nervously. Then, slowly, you lean in and whisper, “You feel that, right? Like… something’s watching?”

Spencer visibly tenses. “Don’t start,” he murmurs, but his eyes dart around as if he’s trying to catch sight of something shifting in the shadows. “There’s no statistical evidence to support hauntings—”

A floorboard creaks sharply underfoot, and Spencer’s voice dies. He goes completely still, clutching his flashlight like it’s a lifeline. You suppress a laugh, barely.

“What was that?” he whispers.

You lean in, voice low and conspiratorial. “I heard that the ghost here likes to knock… three times…” You knock three times against the nearest wall. The sound echoes through the empty house.

Spencer flinches, his face a mix of surprise and mild horror. He opens his mouth, probably to throw some scientific reasoning at you, but then, down the hallway, another knock answers. A hollow, soft thud—just once, but loud enough to reach you both.

You raise an eyebrow, turning to Spencer. “Was that you?”

He shakes his head slowly, eyes wide. “No. That… that must have been… the house settling.”

“Right, right,” you say, not buying it one bit. “The house settling. Just like all those stories about people hearing whispering voices or seeing strange figures here. Probably just… wind, right?”

You watch his face, noting the way his brow furrows. He’s still holding onto his skepticism, but only by a thread.

You press on, deepening your voice and dropping into your best spooky narrator impression. “I heard the ghost is a woman who lost her eyes in an accident… can’t see, but they say she walks these halls… blindly searching for her next victim.”

Spencer’s mouth opens slightly, but he’s too tense to even object now. He flicks his flashlight down the hallway as if daring the ghost to appear.

The moment is perfect.

You slip behind him as he takes another cautious step forward, and in a low, breathy whisper, you murmur, “Spencer…”

He spins around, eyes wide with sheer panic. His flashlight beam swings wildly around the room, and he barely contains a yell. He narrows his eyes, catching your grin, and lets out an exasperated breath. “You— You’re impossible.”

You chuckle, but before you can answer, there’s a soft scratching sound from somewhere upstairs. The mirth fades a little from your expression. That one didn’t sound like it came from either of you.

Spencer glances at you, his look equal parts accusation and genuine fear. “You… didn’t set that up, did you?”

For a second, you almost want to tell him yes, that it was just another part of the prank. But the scratching continues, persistent, and… you can’t deny the chill creeping up your spine.

“It’s probably just a rat,” you suggest, not as confident as before. And, Spencer’s nod is just as unsure.

“A rat, right….”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #mgg

156 notes · View notes

yoonjae20 · 1 month ago

Text

Ric(hard) Fenton; Part 2

Read on ao3.

Masterpost. Previous. Next.

Bruce is many things — a son, an orphan, Gotham’s prince, a vigilante — but he knows that he isn’t a good father. He wants to be — he loves his children fiercely but there are too many unspoken words between them for Bruce to be a truly good father to them. But never more did Bruce believe that than when Dick stormed out of the Manor calling someone else his family.

He and Dick argued often — always had butted heads — to be honest ever since Dick stopped being his Robin. It had only been many, many years later that Bruce realized that ever since leaving his shadow Dick had blossomed — that he had just been a dead weight holding the young man down.

After Jason died due to his mistakes, he had been hellbent on never having another Robin again. When Alfred had put up the memorial, claiming he wouldn’t let Bruce forget, he had gritted his teeth but persisted through his anger, trying to not let his guilt drown him. But when Alfred sent Tim after him with a costume that would always be stained with blood in his mind — he had been furious. He hadn’t been fair with the boy, lashing out at him, being harsh in hopes that he would give up. But Tim had been stubborn — probably even more than Bruce himself. It’s only now that Bruce can admit to himself that the boy saved him from himself.

“Well that went well,” Tim says sarcastically once they updated Alfred on the situation. He leans back in his seat in front of the Batcomputer.

Bruce lets out a grunt as he looks over his shoulder as they try to find out who Danny is. So far no luck. They are running facial recognition software but Bruce has a feeling they won’t get any results there either.

“He must have met him during the year he went missing,” Tim concludes. “That’s the only explanation.”

Bruce can’t argue against that logic, although he doesn’t like what it implies. (Bruce had hoped that despite their disagreements, there would always be trust between them. That no matter what, they would be on the same side. Nothing burns more than the knowledge that he failed.)

He stares at the map pinging Dick’s location every so often — he is moving west, about to cross the border into Pennsylvania. The only thing they can do now is wait and see where the man is going. Bruce sits in the chair next to Tim and settles in for a long day.

Tim makes a breakthrough almost 12 hours later. It has been two hours since Dick’s signal dropped after he reached the border of Illinois and 6 hours since they realized Jason apparently followed him wherever the hell is going.

Tim drums his fingers next to the keyboard, impatient as the software runs. At this point the intention to find out more about Danny isn’t about concern for Dick anymore, it’s about pure spite — and the need to know. Everybody has a digital footprint no matter how small. It shouldn’t be so hard to find a single kid.

When the software pings with a result he almost topples his chair with how fast he stands up. There’s a match with the key words ‘GIW, Danny and Ric’ and Tim’s stomach drops as he scans the information. He taps his earpiece, interrupting Oracle as she briefs B and Robin who are about to start their patrol.

“I found him,” Tim says, voice shaking. “You’ll wanna see this.”

They need to go help Dick and that fast.

It feels too quiet as they traverse through Amity Park on foot — and Jason can’t help but be on edge. He’s too used to the night in Gotham and its rowdy streets. The distant sound of bullets raining and the howling of police cars. Drugs deals around the corner, while the working girls wait on the sides of the streets in groups for drunken stragglers. Gotham is alive at night — but Amity Park? It feels like a Ghost Town in more ways than one. Even Smallville, despite being in the rural parts of Kansas, had held more life when Dick had convinced Jason to visit the Kent Farm one time.

Jason feels baffled that all the events Dick had told him about flew under the radar. Shouldn’t an entire town disappearing get noticed by someone other than its residents — or at least the Justice League? If the town vanished into nothingness once more, would anyone remember it? He doesn’t like that the answer seems to be no.

Jason forms the rear as Dick and Danny chat in front, voices barely above a whisper as they discuss something. Jason knows he probably should listen as Danny updates Dick on the intricacies of what he missed since he was gone — voice serious, but he can’t help but keep an eye out, gaze trailing the rooftops — old habits die hard after all.

It doesn’t take long for Jason to notice that they are being followed. The only reason Jason hasn’t warned Danny and Dick yet is because it’s nothing more than a small blob shaped green ball. Jason trails it in the corner of his eyes as it stays far enough to be barely seen but close enough to not lose them.

Dick and Danny had briefed him on most Ghost Types — and Jason still has to blink away the green when he remembers that Danny admitted that he had his own roster of “rogues” to deal with. Jason has to admit that there were a lot more than he imagined — other than the stereotypical ones from movies — and he’d seen himself in the description of a Revenant. That’s why he knows this must be a Blob Ghost — which according to Danny and Dick — were pretty harmless and kind of dumb most of the time, acting on instincts and emotions rather than conscious thought. But that still doesn’t explain why it would follow them.

It darts in and out of view and Jason has to admit it’s kind of adorable. Dick and Danny must have noticed that he is distracted because they stop and Jason almost walks into them.

Jason instantly notices something is wrong when there isn’t a quip from either of them about his inattention — instead they both look horrified. Jason doesn’t understand why until the blob ghost is suddenly next to them and its emotions almost overwhelm Jason.

Scared. Not safe. Hide. Danger. Danger!

It’s only Danny’s quick reaction as he tackles Jason out of the way that prevents him from being a splat on the ground as a blast hits the position where he had been standing, leaving a smoking crater.

“Well, well, well. Look who crawled back?” a cruel voice taunts and Jason sees Dick stiffening as they get surrounded by agents in white suits. “And it even brought us a present! And here I thought we would need to find ourselves a new shiny plaything.”

“Operative O,” Danny’s hisses, an almost animalistic growl escaping his throat.

“Already showing your real nature, I see,” Operative O’s voice is mocking.

“Operative O, don’t aggravate it further before we have it safely captured,” another agent reprimands, holding some kind of blaster and Jason sees green, only Danny’s warning hand on his shoulder keeping him from retaliating.

“It’s just — here I was worried it wouldn’t fall in our trap without dear old Ricky in our grasp, but it seems I worried for nothing,” Operative O laughs but the only thing Jason hears is Joker’s laugh as the man beats him to half to death with the crowbar.

Jason grits his teeth, shaking his head to force the memory away. He’s not in Ethiopia. These are not his demons — he has no right losing himself here. And like hell he is gonna let Danny and Dick face them alone.

Jason notices he must have missed something because suddenly the two agents who had spoken up are way too close and Danny and Dick both are frozen next to him — neither even saying a word or doing anything despite it.

“Imagine my surprise when we turned up at the Fentons and you weren’t there.” Operative O slides an arm around Dick’s shoulders forcing him to bend a little as he murmurs the next words into his ear — Dick trembles in his hold and Jason’s vision flashes green. “Made it super easy for us.”

“Get your paws off my brother!” Danny snarls, lashing out but stopping short when the agent uses Dick as a meat child.

“Now let’s not be unreasonable, shall we?” Operative O says, releasing Dick and holding up his hands in the air. He circles them, grin sharp. “I’m not cruel after all. Let's say Phantom and the other feisty one, I saw those green eyes — in exchange for the rest — a fair deal, is it not? What do you say Ricky?”

Jason can hear Dick’s jaw crack from how hard the man grits his teeth.

“After all the Fenton’s got you to replace Phantom now. A lot better than a corpse if you ask me.”

Dick growls and decks the man hard in the face as he leans into his space once again. Operative O just laughs maniacally as he stumbles at the force of it, spitting blood on the ground and wiping his nose with the sleeve of his suit, staining it red.

“There it is,” he says gleefully. “That’s what I wanted to see.”

Dick is panting and to Jason’s shock his eyes are a burning, pulsing green as he glares at the agent.

“I’ll wonder how long it’ll take you to scream, hm Ricky boy,” Operative O ponders sadistically. “I hope you’ll hold out longer than Phantom at least. Makes it more fun to break them.”

“Are you done, Operative O?” the other agent interrupts, impatient. “Other people have places to be.”

“What’s the rush, Operative K?” Operative O muses, flicking the blood dripping from his face off his hand. “It’s not like there’s anyone to interrupt us.”

Operative K narrows his eyes at his partner.

“The higher-ups wanted us to be done with this 2 months ago,” he reminds. “The sooner we get done here, the sooner we can get the hell out of this cursed town.”

“As if Gotham will be better,” Operative O scoffs and it takes all of Jason’s willpower to not react at the name drop. “Overflowing with all those pests — starting with that infuriating Bat and its birds.”

He hums, clearly deep in thought.

“Although I always wanted to clip a bird’s wings and see if they can still fly.”

Operative K rolls his eyes, clearly fed up with his partner’s behavior.

“I should have switched with Operative L when I had the chance.”

“Hey, I still get the job done, don’t I?” Operative O pouts and Jason wants to claw the expression of the man’s face. “They have to die sooner or later anyway.”

Operative K sighs but just shakes his head before he directs his attention back to the agents still surrounding them.

“Capture them.”

Jason stands up, not about to let them do whatever they want and for once gladly letting the Pit Rage consume him, but before he can even do one step, Danny writhes on the ground next to him, screaming as electricity continues to shock him. Drool drips from the corner of his mouth as he seizes and his screaming gets hoarse. And Jason �� Jason just stands there. It's like his muscles have turned into lead and he can’t move his limbs one inch as he stares at Danny convulsing.

Fuck, he knew this was gonna be bad when Danny had showed him his scars. But he hadn’t thought of the chance that they would fail before they even tried. Jason feels helpless and it’s like Ethiopia all over again. Only this time he wishes the screams he hears would come from him.

“Enough!” Dick roars as Danny starts foaming at his mouth and tearing Jason out of his daze. “What the hell do you want from us?”

Danny’s eyes roll back in his skull as the shocks stop and Operative O uses a blaster to lift Dick’s chin, forcing him to look at him as he smirks.

“Beg.” His smirk stretches into a blood lusty smile as Dick gulps, his hands spasming at his sides. “Maybe you’ll convince me.”

At the same time as Dick throws down a smoke bomb, Jason grabs his gun in one smooth moment from the holster hidden above his foot and shoots the man point blank between the eyes. The space fills with smoke as Operative O drops to the ground — hopefully dead — and Jason quickly helps Dick with carrying Danny between them as they duck underneath countless stray blasts as the agents shout over each other.

“That signal was atrocious,” Jason complains as Dick leads them into an alleyway, probably orienting himself on nothing more than pure instincts. They take several complicated turns until they can’t hear the sound of battle anymore. “Cass would have had your head.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” Dick fires back and uses his shoulder to open a door, as they drag Danny in it, the boy still out cold.

The door falls close behind them and Dick stills as he feels the boy’s pulse, lips pressed into a thin line.

“This is bad, we need an Ecto-Dejecto as fast as possible.” Dick gnaws at his lips. “Neither of us has enough ectoplasm to heal this.”

Jason’s eyes grow wide as he sees Dick’s eyes and veins glow green, his brother’s face getting paler by the second. Jason rips away Dick’s grasp on Danny and the man lets out a gasp, breathing shakily and looking incredibly drained

“What the hell did you do?”

“Transferred the little ectoplasm I have to Danny,” Dick wheezes out. “We can’t use yours, the corruption would overpower his ectoplasm with how little reserves he has left.”

“There’s no reason you had to do this if it hurts you!”

Dick leans against a wall for support, his limbs shaking.

“You- You don’t get it,” Dick still sounds breathless. “Electricity-” He coughs. “It’s his one weakness. Destabilizes his core. It’s- It’s how he died. If we don’t get him the Ecto-Dejecto he’ll-”

Dick grimaces as if he doesn’t want to finish the sentence, but it’s far too late that Jason notices it’s actually because he’s in pain. He barely steps forward and catches the man as he suddenly faints. Staggering underneath the weight of his brother — and the responsibility that his new brother might die if he makes the wrong decision, Jason says the only word he can think of.

“FUCK!”

#dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #batfamily #jason todd #dick grayson #danny fenton #bruce wayne #tim drake #guys in white #Jason and the Terrible #horrible #no good #very bad day #giw #yoonjae20 writing #yoonjae20 #part 2 #ric fenton au

140 notes · View notes

kaylee68 · 2 months ago

Text

A very batty Christmas

Don’t know if anyone’s done this before, but Batfam getting sucked into a generic hallmark movie due to villain shenanigans ft StephCass, cause duh.

Stephanie is the protagonist, because she’s blonde. She’s the big city girl who’s moving to gingerbread village because her evil boss (Bruce who is very confused and not sure why Wayne Enterprises is suddenly an evil bakery shutting down company) is shutting down the local bakery.

After a quick conversation with her now fiancée Tim Drake (they are both disgusted), she’s off.

She arrives in gingerbread village and is immediately accosted by the local Christmas spirit, read: Carollers (Duke and Jason, who were lucky enough to be cast as side characters. They are sitting back and enjoying the drama)

After throwing a quick middle finger at them, she is saved by none over than the local bakery owner. Cassandra Cain (she has never baked a thing in her life, and now her business is in jeopardy because she’s burnt all the Christmas cookies and she has quite litteraly no understanding of customer service).

She takes Steph to the local inn, run by none other than a very upset Dick Grayson (he knows he isn’t built for the rugged look and no matter how many times he changes his outfit the plot always forces him into a flannel)

She checks in and the next day begins reporting on the local bakery, because big evil company has sent her to shut it down. (Bruce has no memory of this he calls Stephanie several times to try tell her that she can just come home, but small rural town=no cell service.)

Finally she arrives at small town bakery and she enters to the smell of burning. Cass is handling it, but in the mean time she is introduced to Damian, who is not thriving. Its cold, without service and he’s stuck living above a bakery of all things, playing the resident child who exists to say something childish and quirky that’s actually super wise and gives the main character an epiphany somewhere towards the end of the film. At least he has a random golden retriever with him. He misses Titus though.

In the meantime he has to deal with Cass’ disastrous attempts at making cookies.

They aren’t entirely sure why the plot demands they live together. Are they friends? Siblings? Mother and son? Estranged Aunt and Nephew who was taken in after his parents death in what was probably a planned hit by evil big city corporation in order to further their goals of building a mall or a parking lot or whatever it is their building? No one wants to know, least of all them.

Steph moves on to the kitchen to see what’s going on and she and Cass get to talking about the local Christmas cookies baking competition on Christmas Eve that if they win will give them just enough money to save the bakery!!!!

She is offered some cookies but they don’t look edible so she declines returning to the inn.

Dick is chopping wood and not looking at all happy about it as he informs Steph of the impending snow storm that will no doubt overcome gingerbread village.

Steph however is too rattled with guilt at having to shut down this small town bakery to hear him.

The next day she returns (unwillingly, the plot forced her) to the bakery, but oh no. What’s this? Impending snow storm that she was totally warned about???

Well she’ll have to bunk down in the bakery, so she is invited in which is weird right cause they’ve known each other for like 2 days in universe and who gives a fuck. It’s Christmas!!!!!

Cue bonding montage where they go on walks, talk about their childhoods and Cass attempts to teach Steph how to bake, except neither of them had present enough parents during their childhood to teach them so they’re both sort of floundering. Steph bonds with Damian (read they sit next to each other once, he calls her fat, she throws a shoe at his head)

But there’s love in the air or whatever, until dun dun dun despite not having service, she gets a call from her evil boss, (read Bruce asking if she’s alright), who wants her to shut down gingerbreadvill bakery, (he has no intention of doing that, why is everyone so insistent on him shutting down this local business?) followed by her evil fiancée, (Tim who’s just as confused as she is to realise he’s booked a ticket to come see her for some reason)

She puts down the phone and oh no, small town bakery owner overheard her and knows her true motive. (Cass doesn’t care, she’s more interested in eating cookies than making them) but plot demands the third act misunderstanding so Steph leaves in shame.

The magical snow storm has magically vanished. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and her deadline to shut down the bakery, but what’s this? There’s carollers outside her window giving her hope. (Jason and Duke who didn’t realise their true importance to the plot, standing outside her window in the freezing cold singing a plot relevant Christmas carol or something)

Well she throws caution to the wind and returns to the bakery, but Cass isn’t there, Damian is though and he gets to have his moment and give her some great advice (“she went to that one place you had your intimate moment in three scenes ago, now fuck off”)

She finds Cass and explains how she doesn’t want to shut down gingerbreadvil bakery anymore, but oh no, it’s already Christmas Eve, what to do?

Well they return to the bakery and probably get Dick, Jason and Duke and some other local town members to come together and make cookies (cause it’s Christmas guys!!!) they submit them to the local Christmas cookies baking competition on Christmas Eve, three people vomit and one of the judges has to be taken to the hospital for food poisoning but the plot demands they win.

They kiss under the moonlight and Tim arrives just in time for Steph to hand him back his ring (they are both incredibly relived) the story ends and everyone lives happily ever after.

The batfam are freed after the plot ends and all agree to never speak of the incident again.

Except neither Cass nor Steph are as upset as they probably could be and maybe if they try baking cookies for real this time, (with strict recipes and guidelines) and go walking under the moonlight together and generally being a cute cringy hallmark couple then nobody needs to know.

#batfam #dc comics #dc #call this my Christmas episode #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #stephcass #a little ooc but who cares it’s Christmas!!!!!#tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Damian Wayne #duke thomas #jason todd #hallmark movies

86 notes · View notes

leonstoenailunderhisbed · 11 months ago

Text

A Southern Myth

Summary: Leon had been sent to a rural place in Texas where sightings of a BOW were reported. But upon entering the forgotten town, he began to get entangled in a horrific twist of events involving a religious cult. Things escalate and now he must survive with the help of a girl who doesn’t believe in anything.

Warning: horror. religion. mentions of blood and gore like description. cult activities. violence. swearing. reader is fem. there is no romance/smut.

A/N: omg I’ve never written something like this before🙈 CAPCOM should hire me for script writing.

“You believe you're on the righteous path, you believe you're a force for good, but you're not.” - John Seed, Far Cry 5

“Come forth, my children. Let your souls become pure under His guidance.”

“Let us rejoice in purity as we bathe in this sacrifice. Let us become one for Him, for He has been waiting.”

The sound of the dirt rolling under the car’s wheel made the road feel bumpy for Leon. The heat was intense the further he went into the rural side of what was once a town named Giligand in Texas. Once a lively town that had become a ghost town.

Until a group of religious settlers took over the desert land and claimed it their new home. They built their own society, far away from modern civilization. The orange and dried plants surrounding the new town as the wind blew hard. The sun intensified and caused Leon’s sweat to trickle down his body.

Right in the middle of nowhere is where he got sent- yet again. The D.S.O has assigned Leon a more haunting mission. The government division found in Texas’ own legislation had found weird signs of an unknown entity roaming around the dried up land. He found himself standing in front of an agent in Austin telling him about this entity.

“Our homeland security experts have raised a few concerns regarding a secluded town in Western Texas. They believe that this could be related to the virus incident that presided in other countries,” The senior agent stated as he gave Leon a stack of papers containing pictures and files of the sightings.

The abnormality was big and round. But its eyes were the only visible thing in the dark of night. Pure white eyes protruding from the creature’s face, sending a wave of uneasiness to Leon. The monster seemed tall, definitely more than 9 feet tall. Leon couldn’t tell exactly what it was but he guessed there were some sort of horns coming out the creature’s skull.

Leon had finally reached the town, being greeted by a yellowing sign. The sign written in Times New Roman “Welcome to Cunstacin” on the bottom “previously Giligand” and then near the border edge “Pop. 189”

Such a small town for a big state. Leon didn’t think much of it. He wasn’t aware of how much his life would change the minute he passed the sign without seeing those pure white eyes watching him from behind his truck.

The town itself was small but seemed very busy. The roads were flat with gravel. The houses were old and barren but still usable. He wondered how people were able to make a living of such an abandoned place. As he neared a motel, he was met with the leader of the town. A tall man of tan skin, hair long enough to reach his shoulders as his beard grew to his neck.

He approached Leon’s truck and greeted him with a polite smile, “Ah, you must be the new guy they sent here.” Leon nodded as he turned off the engine and jumped out of his car.

The man walked up to Leon and patted his shoulder, “Hope the road wasn’t too tedious. The distance between here and the city is pretty stretchy.” The man chuckled and looked behind him where two young women stood. “Go fetch his luggage and take it to his room. We don’t want to make our esteemed guest work too much now, don’t we?”

The two ladies nodded and walked over to the trunk of Leon’s truck. They both carried the brown and thick luggages to the motel, their silhouettes getting lost in between the halls.

The man then gently forced Leon to walk with him, “I’m sure you’re tired and you might want to get some rest, but there’s an afternoon mass the town wishes for you to attend. The people want to meet the new guy in town,” the man laughed again and gave Leon’s chest a lazy slap.

“I appreciate the offer but I’m here for work- strictly for work,” Leon replied as he looked at the man and then around the area.

The man chuckled and took his hand away from Leon’s shoulder, “No worries- I get it. You’re a busy guy and your work ethic is commendable,” the man leaned towards Leon’s ear to whisper, “But if you find yourself in need of His words, do come to the church behind the Great Willowed Forest.” The man leaned back and gave him another toothy smile, almost unsettling. “Make yourself at home.” That was the last thing the man said before he began to walk away.

Leon exhaled through his nose. He already got the creeps from the background check he ran on the town but meeting the people in person made the whole experience much more precarious.

He began to walk along the town, trying to find any other civilians. He saw an older woman with two children outside a two story building.

“Excuse me,” Leon said as he jogged to the three individuals. One of the children, a little boy with a bowl haircut pointed to Leon and exclaimed, “Look, meemaw- ‘tis the new guy!” The older woman slapped the little boy’s head, “Pointing at strangers is rude.”

Leon cleared his throat, “It’s alright,” he looked down at the kid before looking back at the older woman, “I’ve heard there were some strange… sightings around this town-“

“Ah, yes-“ the woman cut him off, “You’re talking Tervin.” Leon immediately furrowed his brows. They had named the potential B.O.W?

“Tervin?” Leon asked and the woman nodded, “Yes. He was sent by God,” she looked up at the sky and then back at him.

“He was kind enough to send us a messenger. My boy, the end is coming. We must cleanse our souls of our sins in order to enter our Eden.”

Leon immediately felt a weird sense of unease in his lower stomach, the bottom pit sinking down after the woman spoke.

The woman took a step forward and cupped Leon’s face, “He is our savior. He will bring us to an eternal peace. Time is ticking, we must proceed with His plan.”

Leon took a step back, taking deep breaths. What was this feeling? His heart was hammering against his rib cage and he could feel his head become light. Maybe it was heatstroke or maybe it was fear.

The woman stared at Leon, seemingly in a trance. He swore he saw her eye color vanish for a moment, not right before she “came back” and smiled at him. She then took hold of the two children’s hands and walked away. He could only stay there watching as they got further away.

He exhaled shakily as he ran a hand through his hair, this would be harder than he thought.

For the next following days, he’s been trying to talk to these people but everyone said remotely the same things.

“Monster? He’s no monster. He’s our salvation.”

“God sent him, it is His gift to us.”

“We must act quickly, the end is nigh”

Leon was currently sitting on the edge of the bed in the room he was currently staying. His elbows rested on his knees as his gaze fell on the picture of the creature he had in his hand. Pure black, except for the eyes. Something felt sinister- almost too evil. But he couldn’t pinpoint what. Everyone looked normal-ish.

He left the motel and began his 15th round of research. He was so sure he’d get kicked out if he kept asking the people questions. His mind traveled back to what the leader said, something about attending mass.

He didn’t want to but he knew that he had to try. Maybe there was something that could be useful in the church.

So that’s where he was headed. To the Great Willowed Forest. A forest full of tall trees and tall grass. The sun was setting and the church came into his line of vision. A tall Victorian structure that was adorned in white and gold. A bell sitting on top of the highest tower peak of the religious establishment. He slowly walked up the freaking and old steps of the church. Muffled talking from just the other of the door. With a light inhale, he pushed the door open with gentleness and stepped into the church.

The inside was much more beautiful. The benches were neatly fixed in rows as the windows were stained glass depicting stories of their God. The church was packed and the leader stood on the podium, preaching about their path to salvation.

“We must obey the Lord’s rule. For we are His children as well as His servants. We must makeup for the loss of His journey.”

Leon found himself an empty seat at the very back. No one seemed to have noticed him enter, they were all focusing on the town’s leader words. Almost as if they were bewitched.

“Tonight, we must bring our sacrifice and cleanse our souls. We must savor the taste of blood as He has given us a vessel from his sacrifices. We must show him our devotion.”

The mass lasted for an hour and a half, and he didn’t find anything remotely useful. He sighed in defeat as he felt like he wasted his time, yet again. There were no signs of any B.O.W and these people were most certainly convinced that the monster was their key to heaven.

It was nighttime when Leon had left the church, walking aimlessly through the forest. His mind preoccupied with thoughts about potentially lying to the D.S.O and telling them it was just some southern myth.

Until he hears clinking sounds coming from behind a bush. His agent instincts activated and he quietly walked towards the bush to see what was behind it.

To his surprise, he’d found another person. A girl working on a garden. She had been couched down on the floor as her hands worked through the soil.

As he walked towards you, his boots crunched against the twigs lost in the grass. Your attention had been drawn to the sound and you quickly spotted the new man in town.

You furrowed your brows as he approached you, “You’re the new guy everyone’s talking about.”

Leon nodded curtly, “The one and only,” you hummed in response and resumed your duties.

“Can I ask-“

“No.”

He was caught off guard by your immediate answer. You didn’t even look back at him. He could only stare at the back of your head as your hands worked through the soil.

“You didn’t even listen to what I had to say,” he approached you and crouched next to you, glancing at the plants you’ve been planting.

“I don’t need to. You’re asking questions about this stupid and fake thing everyone claims to be salvation or some other bullshit,” you grumbled.

“Not necessarily-“ he sighed and looked at your side profile, “I’m not here for that-“

“What do you want me to tell you? That there’s some sort of monster roaming around the forest?” You turned your head to look at him, “Because I won’t. I haven’t seen anything and I do not believe it even exists. Those lunatics are hell bent on their stupid… belief,” you scoffed as you turned your attention back to your plants.

“Bunch of bullshit if you ask me,” you muttered. He looked at you some more before looking back down at your hands covered in dirt.

“So you aren’t with those people?” Leon raised a brow as he analyzed you. You shook your head no, “Hell no. You don’t know what they do to those who don’t believe in their God… you don’t know anything.”

Leon remained silent as your words settled down in his mind. There was more than what you led on and both of you knew this.

“Then tell me,” he replied quietly. You sighed and looked at him with an annoyed expression, “Doesn’t matter. Just go back to your shit and mind your business.”

He didn’t say anything, he just watched you for a few minutes before he stood up and left.

He went back to his motel room and laid down on the bed. Staring up at ceiling as he thought about the events that took place. He still couldn’t shake off the strange feeling he felt about this town. Something felt odd but he just didn’t know what. He sighed and decided to just sleep for the night.

Leon woke up early in the morning and tried to find the leader of the town. Surprisingly, he was at the church. He was sitting down on a bench, silently praying. Leon walked up to him and sat next to him as he waited for him to finish praying.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our visitor. To what do I owe the pleasure?” The man said as he noticed Leon’s presence next to him. Leon cleared his throat and pulled out a picture of ‘Tervin’

“I need you to tell me about this. What do you know?” Leon’s brows were furrowed, he was serious. He didn’t come around to play. The man took the picture and stared at it. Something in his aura had changed upon seeing that picture.

“Where did you get this?” The man asked as he looked at Leon with an unreadable expression. Leon shrugged, “I can’t say.” The man hummed and looked back at the altar in front of them.

“Tervin is a gift from God. He was sent as a warning of impending doom,” the man replied in a flat voice. “If he isn’t satisfied, then he seeks blood. We must cleanse this town of impurities and relay a message to God that we are worthy of his Eden paradise.”

Something in that caused a shiver to run down Leon’s spine, but he didn’t show it. He remained serious and calm. Leon nodded once and stood up, feeling like no one will actually tell him anything.

“Thanks,” he muttered before he left the church. When he walked out, he nearly crashed into you.

“Watch it,” you hissed at him. He looked down at you with a raised brow, “I’m pretty sure you meant ‘excuse me’” he crossed his arms over his chest and kept blocking the doorway.

You sighed and looked at him unimpressed, “Excuse me.” Leon rolled his eyes and stepped to the side. As you began to walk past him, you noticed the picture in his hands. Your brows pinched together and you quickly pointed to it, “what’s that?”

Leon looked down at the picture and then back at you, “I’m supposed to investigate this… thing.” He watched you closely, trying to gauge your reaction as you stood there silently thinking.

“You’ll get yourself in trouble if you keep putting your nose where it doesn’t belong,” you warned before stepping inside the church. He saw you walk up to the leader. He exhaled and walked back to the town. When will someone actually help him?

It was somewhere past 11 pm, he was staring at the files he had about this town and his objective. It was impossible to think how he didn’t have any leads. It was the Leon S Kennedy! He always saw that the job got done, always.

He groaned defeatedly and began to walk around the town, he doesn’t even know how many times he’s done that.

The town was awfully quiet. There was a fog occupying most of his vision, making the place look eerie and unsettling. He heard the rustling of the trees and grasses but he paid no mind to that. Not right now, at least.

He saw you sitting on a fountain, staring at your reflection deep in thought. Why were you the only one out here. He walked over to you and spoke in a soft voice, “What are you doing out here?”

You looked over at him and then back at the water, “Could ask you the same.”

Leon sighed and scratched his head, “I just- I wanted to ask questions but seems like everyone just… disappeared.”

You hummed in response as your fingers played with the water, “They didn’t. They’re at the church praying or something.”

His ears perked up, praying at this time? He didn’t want to question it but it still lingered in his mind.

After a few moments of silence, he couldn’t help but ask, “You said you didn’t believe in God, why is that?” He asked in a quiet voice.

You looked at him before motioning for him to follow you, “It’s better if I just showed you.”

You led him through the dark forest, twigs snapping under your shoes and wind howling soft whispers as the moonlight glimmered down you two.

“This town ostracizes those who don’t believe in God. Do you know what happens to nonbelievers?” You looked behind your shoulder to glance at Leon for a brief moment.

“No, I don’t but do tell,” he followed behind you as his eyes scanned the forest for any threats.

You sighed and stopped walking once you’ve reached an abandoned cemetery, you walked up to one of the gravestones and stared down at the name, “Jeffrey Clyle. 1987-2024.”

“Sacrifice,” you whispered. Leon heard you and walked up next to you, your eyes distant and your expression solemn.

“Ever since rumors of the “messenger” started, they’ve been capturing and targeting those whose faith has been faltering…” your gaze remained down at the gravestone and Leon remained silent as he let you talk.

“They’ve been doing human sacrifices in the name of God. They believe that God would forgive them if they kill those who oppose him…” your voice trailed off for a moment before you turned your face to look at him, “It’s evil. Punishing people for not believing in something is inhumane. They’re all slaves to their own fucking religion, that God is not kind and I will never believe in it.”

“Then what are you still doing here?” Leon asked as he stared into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Because my father is the fucking leader of this whole thing. I can’t just leave,” you mumbled and looked away. “I already get judged for not believing- imagine what would happen to me if I left?”

He remained silent once again. Your father was the preacher and the leader of the town? That makes things even more interesting. Leon never pictured himself to be in this kind of situation- not since Spain, at least. It all seemed the same to him. Religion controlling people, is that all it will ever be?

Then he remembered something from mass he attended,

“Tonight, we must bring our sacrifice and cleanse our souls. We must savor the taste of blood as He has given us a vessel from his sacrifices. We must show him our devotion.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he began to finally realize what might happen. He looked down at you, “You mean to tell me… that your father participates in human sacrifices? Why?” His eyes were narrowed as his breathing became faster.

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Because his idiotic self thinks that sacrificing people will help him and his goons reach their heaven.”

Innocent lives were being used for this town’s religion. This didn’t sit right with Leon. He quickly ran out of the cemetery- his heartbeat speeding as his legs carried his body towards the church.

Under the embrace of the moon and the night, a gathering assembled at the edge of the churchyard, shrouded by the shadows cast by the townspeople. Their faces unrecognizable under the dark night, their chants in hushed tones as they circled around a sacrifice.

Bound by chains, a person writhed in resistance, their muffled cries stifled by a potato sack over their head. Leon stood behind a tree as you came behind him to look at the scene unfold in front of your eyes.

The leader of the town emerged, wielding a sacrificial blade gleaming under the moonlight. Each stroke of the blade sent shivers down your’s and Leon’s spine, as the victim's anguished pleas echoed through the night, a haunting presence appeared through the tethered night.

“We give this sacrifice to you, our Lord. Let us repent for our sins and wash ourselves with the blood of those who’ve been cleansed.”

The creature- otherwise known as the B.O.W- emerged from behind the forest and entered the churchyard. Its stature was 11 feet, towering over everyone. Its black glistening skin reflected the moonlight as its pearly white eyes penetrated the group of believers. Its horns swirled upwards, reaching up to the sky. The townspeople all bowed to the creature as they chanted its name, “All hail Tervin.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he saw the B.O.W while your eyes widened at the fact that this “messenger” was indeed real. Leon took out his gun and aimed it at the B.O.W. You quickly pulled his arm down and whispered in a harsh tone, “Are you stupid? That thing could be dangerous.”

Leon narrowed his eyes at you, “I’ve fought those things before, I know what I’m doing.” He shook your hands away from his arm and aimed the gun back at the beast.

The beast approached the human sacrifice and with its claws, it picked up. Almost instantly crushing the human, letting the blood fall down like rain on the townspeople.

“Thank you, Lord, for this blessing”

The B.O.W then ate the human sacrifice after the townspeople showered in their blood. A scene so horrific and disturbing, it twisted your stomach upside down. The creeping sensation of the fact that it could’ve been you in that situation only made it worse.

To feel your rib cage cave in, piercing your lungs and heart as blood trickles down your mouth. Its claws clawing into your body, letting the blood flow like water.

It only made you shiver and writhe in disgust.

Leon then began to shoot at the B.O.W with his gun, drawing the attention of the townspeople. One bullet shot the creature’s eye, causing it to stagger backwards in pain. The group of believers all turned to look at you and Leon.

Their faces unrecognizable- their faces foreign as the creases and eyes all felt like distinct people. The group slowly began to walk towards you two as the monster howled in anger.

“God, forgive those sinners. They haven’t sought your guidance. Let us illuminate their path,”

The leader spoke as they approached you and Leon. Anxiety coursed through your body as you saw the B.O.W swing its claws at the group of believers. People flying left and right. The leader turned around and observed in delight.

“Yes, God, yes! We shall sacrifice ourselves for Eden.”

The whole group then began to chant, “For Eden. For Tervin.”

The B.O.W only had one goal in mind- and it was to kill the person who injured it. As Tervin kept walking towards you and Leon, Leon took hold of your wrist and began to ran. He dragged you through the forest back to the motel he was staying in.

He looked the door to his room and turned to look at you, “What the fuck was that!?” Leon was stressing, all these emotions resurfaced and he felt overwhelmed. Why was this happening, how was this happening?

“I told you, they’re fucking evil when it comes to their God,” you replied harshly.

“Yeah I wasn’t exactly expecting your father to be the leader of a cult with that thing as its dog!,” Leon replied as his hands traveled through his face and hair.

You scoffed and crossed your arms over you chest but just as you were to speak, the ground shook. Heavy footsteps were heard and Leon rushed to the window. He peeked through the blinds and saw the group of believers walking over to the motel with Tervin in following them. They kept chanting as they kept walking.

“We need to get out of here now-“ you said as you began to hurry out the door. Leon, however, stopped you.

“I can’t just leave, I have a mission to do and it requires me to kill that thing. I cannot go home until it’s dead,” he said as he stared at you with a resolved expression.

You could only stare at him in silence for a few moments before sighing defeatedly, “Fine, do whatever you want.”

“Stay here,” he instructed as he took his gun and walked out, leaving you alone in his motel room.

In the flickering glow of the moonlight, amidst the eerie chants of the cultists, Leon stood there, gun in hand as he scanned the group. He needed to be smart. They had a B.O.W to their advantage.

As the first cultist lunged forward, knife in hand, Leon countered with swift precision, deflecting the blade with a punch to the gut. His movements were a blur of calculated strikes and evasions. As he killed and wounded the cultists, they grew more frenzied, their chants escalating into desperate cries of fury. Yet, undeterred, Leon continued fighting.

“We must bring him to God!” They chanted as they kept lunging at Leon.

Amidst the chaos, the B.O.W stepped forward, its twisted features contorted with rage as it charged at Leon. With the gun pointed at the beast, he shot bullet after bullet, causing it to slow its movements.

“God, please forgive our brother for he has sinned. We must cleanse him.”

Leon ran out of bullets and just as the B.O.W was about to strike, he saw you throw a pitchfork at it. The blades piercing the creature’s skin, stabbing it right in the chest.

The B.O.W let out a screeching scream, “No! Our messenger!” The leader spoke in anguish as he watched the creature stumble back, falling to the ground with a thud. Leon reloaded his gun and began to shoot again, this time aiming for the head.

As Leon became busy, your father glared at you and it was like something turned in him, “You bitch. I’ve had just about it with you. You will submit to your God and you will repent!”

You’ve never heard him speak to you this way, so much malice in his voice that you didn’t recognize the man that used to be your father.

He lunged at you, his hands trying to reach for your neck to strangle you. You took a nearby torch and set his clothes on fire. He stood back and tried to set the fire off of himself- to which he fails. He screams and cries in pain as he began to get engulfed in the flames of his sins.

“Forgive me, my children!”

You finally understood everything. There was no God because your father believed he was that God. The flames burned up in hues of blue and orange right before the sparks flew into the night sky.

His skin melted, his eyes became a blobby mess and he fell to the ground. His screech becoming more faint as the life in being burnt away from his body. The flames expanding over the dried wheat of the town, engulfing the town in a pit of fire.

Leon had been too busy to even notice that you killed your father. He’s been shooting the B.O.W, making sure to blow its head off once and for all.

After two rounds of reloading, he finally was able to kill that damn thing. Watching it fall to the ground, sending harsh vibrations to the floor as silence overtook the ghostly town.

Heavy panting overtook the two of you as the silence grew deafening. You turned to look at Leon as he stared at the B.O.W all lifeless. You looked around and saw the bloodbath. Everyone was dead.

Pools of blood stained the gravel he once stepped, the lifeless bodies of the townspeople growing cold. The flames being the only source of light under the dark night.

Leon turned to look at you for a brief moment before looking up at sky as he tried to take deep breaths. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t believe what he was brought into. But he was glad it was over. For now at least.

Leon packed his things and went over to his truck, he looked at you, “Aren’t you coming?”

You looked at him and then back at the town- or what remained of the town. You nodded and walked over to his truck.

Both of you driving down the lane of the rose, exiting the town. Passing by a sign that read, “Please visit soon!”

Unaware of the presence with the white eyes watching you two leave the town.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #id leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #re4 leon #resident evil fic #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon #horror #southern gothic #x reader #re4r leon

177 notes · View notes

justsomerandomfanfic · 4 months ago

Text

Say It Once, Say It Twice - Beetlejuice (Musical) X Female Reader

Title: Say It Once, Say It Twice

Beetlejuice (Musical) X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Lydia (Mentioned), a Mugger, Delia (Mentioned), and Charles (Mentioned)

WC: 4,306

Warnings: Musical Beetlejuice, and Beetlejuice in general, teasing, banter, flirting, suggestive, italics, cursing, mentions of death, very brief mention of snakes, nicknames, Reader gets almost mugged, crying, mentions of knives, self mentions of insecurement, fear of abandonment?, mood ring hair, slight angst, and fluff

Ever since you had a near-death experience as a child, you've been able to see ghosts. It was terrifying. And funnily enough, your first ghost was your grandmother, whose spirit had been attached to the house you, your mother, and your father lived in. Only after then, did it get worse.

You'd spot a ghostly ghoul trapped to walk down the same sidewalk over and over; shards of glass embedded in his pasty skin, someone had hit him with a car. There was an older woman, doomed to sit on the same bench she died on; heart attack while feeding the birds. You had witnessed and even spoken to a lot of trapped ghosts in your life, and this eventually led to you becoming an outcast to most of society.

As you grew up, school was difficult, especially when you were younger ranting on and on about ghosts you could see and talk to; which led to a-many parent-teacher meetings. As you got older, and the stories continued, your parents tried taking you to a therapist, and psychologist, but nothing seemed to help you. For years you went to these doctors, and they always said that you either had an overactive imagination or you needed pills.

At some point, you realized that by hiding your strange 'superpower', and pretending you were just making things up for attention or whatever, you were able to stop seeing those doctors; convincing your parents that you were fine. But that was well into your high school years, and at that point, you were considered... Odd. It was hard to make and keep friends. But you got to the point that you didn't need companionship. You did well in school, getting great marks, and graduated early, moving straight on to college.

You were able to finish college and get your degree, before finding a well-paying job. Though, this well-paying job forced you to move to rural Connecticut; not that you really cared about moving, you could have a fresh start on life. New people, who didn't know about your odd past, about the ghosts you sometimes see, or anything else.

So, in your early twenties, you moved yourself out to a small town in rural Connecticut. You were able to find a small home - oddly decently priced - thankfully, you had been saving up your savings ever since you were little, in hopes of possibly moving out and getting your place someday. Still, this small home was marked pretty low, and you thought that maybe it was a pretty big fixer-upper, but it was actually nice inside. It was bare, yet liveable.

When you first moved in, you had noticed that you lived right next to this really pretty black, Victorian mansion. Well, the mansion sat on a high hill, looking over the town, and you were below that hill, off to the side, next to a side road that led to the main road.

Well, after a couple of months, living in your new small home, you started to feel like someone was... Watching you. It was a feeling that sent shivers down your spine. This feeling wasn't all the time, no, but it happened every other day, or so it felt like. And whenever you felt it, you'd look around to see if anyone was watching you, but nobody was there. It unnerved you, to say the least.

It wasn't until a couple of weeks later, that you finally figured out what was causing that unnerving feeling. It was no wonder why the house you now lived in was so cheap, compared to other houses around the States. The town was haunted by a demon. And this demon rarely left you alone.

You felt like you were cursed.

"Babes!" You heard Beetlejuice whine, hovering behind you as you sat at your desk, working on something for work. "Babeeeeeee!" He whined again, this time more forcefully.

You groaned. He's been whining in that tone for a while. But you were working, and you really wanted to get your work done, continuing to type away at your computer. "Beej," You muttered, still typing. "I'm working right now. I need to get this done for my boss."

Appearing on your desk, Beetlejuice sat beside your computer, glaring down at it before looking at you; a soft pink rising onto his hairline briefly at the nickname. Crossing his legs, he bent to rest his hand on his cheek, "Why don't I just get rid of your boss for you, then you don't have to work anymore."

"Nope," You began, popping the 'p'. "Then I wouldn't have a job. And no job means no money."

Beetlejuice pouted dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Money, shmoney. Who needs it? I can conjure up anything you need with a snap of my fingers!" He snapped his fingers, and a shower of white, green, black, and purple confetti burst into the air, though it did little to aid your concentration; you blew a piece of confetti off your nose.

Your... Relationship with Beetlejuice was... Interesting to say the least. In the beginning, you were incredibly annoyed by him, but soon found yourself warming up to his bizarre antics and unconventional charm. Beetlejuice was like no one you had ever met - or rather, no one you had ever been haunted by.

At first, his constant interruptions, crude jokes, and mischievous pranks drove you up the wall. You were sure he got a kick out of seeing you flustered and annoyed. However, beneath all the chaos, you began to see a different side of him. He was surprisingly attentive, and he never crossed any real boundaries that you had put up.

Slowly, your annoyance turned into reluctant amusement. His antics started bringing a smile to your face, even when you were trying to stay mad at him. You found yourself looking forward to his visits, wondering what kind of chaos he would bring next. He had a way of making the mundane interesting, and his unpredictable nature kept you on your toes.

Though, at that very moment, you just wanted to have some peace and quiet. Sighing, rubbing your temples, you spoke, "Beej, I really need to focus. This report is due by the end of the day."

He floated in front of you - upside down - blocking your view of the screen, his eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. "But babyyyy, I'm so bored! Entertain me!" He exclaimed, giving you an over-the-top puppy dog look.

You arched an eyebrow, unamused; though you felt heat rise up in your cheeks. "Why don't you go scare the neighbors or something? I'm sure Lydia's parents would love to entertain you or something.”

Beetlejuice grinned wickedly; streaks of red slowly appeared in his green, untamed hair. "Oh, you know they would! But I'd much rather be here, with you. It's way more fun!" He leaned closer, "Come on, just a little break? We can play a game, maybe we can play 'Truth Or Dare.'"

You shook your head, chuckling despite yourself. "Beej, if I don't get this done, I'll get in trouble, and then you'll have to deal with me being grumpy."

He smirked, returning to sit on your desk, and leaning in closer. "Come on, babes. Just a little game, pretty please?"

Without thinking, you reached out to push him away, your hand passing right through his ethereal chest. A shiver ran down your spine as your hand met no resistance, just cold air. Beetlejuice grinned wider, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Forgot I'm not solid, didn't ya?" At your groan and eye roll, he continued, "Fine, fine. But you owe me some quality time later. Or..." He trailed off, his mischievous grin reappearing, the dark green in his hair spreading, "You could be a dear and just say my name so we can have some real fun."

"Nope, not gonna happen. I am not summoning you." He groaned again, and you got right back to work, "Sorry, Beej, but I know that if I do that, you'll probably try and take over the world. I'm so glad I spoke to Lydia.”

“Damn kid.” He muttered, staring out your window, pouting once more, crossing his arms over his chest. Returning his eyes to you, he grinned that grin of his, "Take over the world? Me? Come on, babes, you know I'm more into causing localized chaos than global domination." He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with a mock wistful expression - his legs hung off the side of the desk, kicking back and forth in the air. "But imagine the fun we could have together! Ghost parties, haunting the living, pranking everyone... It would be legendary!"

You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued typing. "Legendary, maybe. But I've got responsibilities, and I can't just abandon them to become your sidekick in a supernatural escapade."

Beetlejuice sighed dramatically, floating up to sit cross-legged in midair. "Alright, Miss Responsible, finish your boring work then. But you better make it up to me later. Maybe then we can play a game of 'Truth or Dare' then, and I promise to keep it... Relatively decent."

You glanced at him, smirking. "Relatively decent, huh? I'll believe it when I see it."

He winked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, you'll see it, alright. Just you wait."

With a final dramatic - and somewhat creepy - giggle, Beetlejuice vanished in a puff of green smoke, leaving you to your work. As you turned back to your computer, you couldn't help but frown.

You wondered if Beej really did like spending time with you - annoying you and flirting with you - or if he was just doing it to try and convince you to say his name. That possible realization made your chest hurt. You knew that if you did say his name, you'd be giving him a lot more power than you were comfortable with.

What would happen when he got what he wanted? Would he really cause chaos like he always promised, or was there something more to his constant presence? Deep down, you had gotten so used to him always being around that the thought of him leaving after regaining his power scared you. He'd have his powers and forget all about you... The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being used, despite the strange bond that had formed between you two.

~~~

That night, after finishing the day's work, you kept your promise to Beetlejuice and played 'Truth or Dare' with him, which you immediately regretted doing. To make a long story short, Beetlejuice didn’t really follow through on his promise to keep the game 'relatively decent.' ‘If you could kiss anyone in the room, who would it be?,’ - you and Beeltejuice were the only ones in the room - you ended up letting out an irritated huff and crossing your arms.

Seeing that you were actively ignoring him, Beetlejuice raised an eyebrow and leaned in with a mischievous grin. “Oh, come on, babes! It’s just a game.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to avoid looking at him. "Yeah, well, you said you would keep it decent. This is the third question."

He tilted his head, his grin faltering only slightly "Actually, I said 'relatively'." At your silence, he continued, “Alright, alright. I get it. I’m sorry, babes… How about this? You pick a movie, and I promise to behave.”

“You?” You looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “You promise to behave?” 'Ha, fat chance.' You thought.

Beetlejuice crossed an 'x' over where his heart would be, "Cross my heart and hope to die.”

"Beej, you're already dead." You sighed deeply.

You quickly found yourself sitting on the one end of the couch, eyes fixed on the movie you had chosen. It had been silent except for the ambient noise of the TV for what felt like thirty minutes or so. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Beetlejuice fidgeting. His leg was shaking rapidly up and down, and his hands twisted around each other restlessly. You knew that he wasn't good at sitting still for long periods of time. Though he was trying to stay focused on the screen, his eyes kept drifting to you, unable to stay away.

Beetlejuice, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, slid closer, the proximity making your pulse quicken. You could practically feel the warmth of his presence, even though you knew it was just a trick of the mind. You tried to ignore the feeling of his presence.

He glanced over at you with a teasing smirk. “You know, babe, if you said my name right now, we could really make this night more interesting. Wink, wink.” He actually said ‘wink, wink’ out loud, adding an actual wink. "Come on..." He trailed off, leaning in close, "Just for tonight. I can make it worth your while." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Beetlejuice," You lightly warned, making his eyes light up at the possibility of you saying it two times more, "No." His wicked grin quickly dropped into a pout.

Groaning, Beetlejuice flopped over your lap, though he phased right through you. Why did you still feel his presence as if he were truly there? And why did you have the overwhelming urge to touch his hair? “Babe! Babes! Toots! Baby! Babycakes! Puddin' Pie! Pumpkin! Pumpkin Pie!-” His insistent nicknaming made your cheeks flush as you tried not to make eye contact with him. “I’ll do anything!”

You looked down at him, a mix of frustration and curiosity in your gaze. “Anything?” you asked, tilting your head.

Beetlejuice sat up, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “Anything! You want a puppy? I’ll steal you a puppy! Or an elephant! Ya like elephants? Oh! Maybe we can get you a giraffe! Or a tiger! Or-”

You bit your lip, staring at him as he continued listing off animals he could ‘steal’ for you in exchange for his ‘freedom.’ Each offer sounded more outrageous than the last, and yet it was his eagerness that struck a chord with you.

A familiar unease settled over you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Beetlejuice’s insistence on getting you to say his name was just another ploy. The thought that he might only be around because you could see - thus set him free - made you feel used. The idea of him disappearing from your life after all this time was more than unsettling; it was devastating.

Despite enjoying most of your time with Beetlejuice, your trust in him was fragile. The fear of him leaving, combined with your history of loneliness, made you wary of fully opening up. Having Beetlejuice in your life felt like a rare - if unconventional - source of companionship, and the thought of him vanishing after you’d let your guard down was almost too much to bear. You felt selfish for holding back, feeling like you were keeping a genie trapped in a bottle, but you also knew that not saying his name was a way to protect others from the chaos he could and would unleash.

“Beej,” You said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside, “I appreciate the offer, but you know I can’t just-”

Beetlejuice cut you off with an exaggerated sigh, sitting up. “Oh, come on! Just say the magic words, and we can have some real fun. You know you want to.” He sing-songed.

You shook your head, trying to keep your emotions in check. “It’s not that simple. There are... Reasons. I can’t just-” You let out a sigh, rubbing your cheek with a hand, and casting your gaze down to your lap; your heart was pounding in your chest. “I’m just going to... Get some air.”

You retreated to your room, shutting the door behind you and leaning against it for a moment. The quiet of your room was a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere you’d just left. You tried to calm your racing heart, grappling with the overwhelming emotions Beetlejuice stirred up in you. As you sat on the edge of your bed, you let out a deep sigh, your hands coming up to cover your face; your palms fiercely pressing into your eyelids, and tears burned the backs of your eyes.

~~~

When you did finally emerge from your room the next morning, you could almost feel the absence of Beetlejuice. He was nowhere to be seen, and the house felt eerily quiet. You went about your day, glancing over your shoulder as if expecting him to appear at any moment; almost waiting for him to appear with a giant grin on his face - maybe try and scare you in addition to some suggestive comment. Beetlejuice’s absence was both a relief and a source of unease... You even sort of... Missed him. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was either giving you space or plotting his next move.

However, nothing happened at the beginning of the day. No pranks, no sudden appearances, nothing. You continued on, getting ready for work, walking to work, working, and then walking home. As you did every weekday. It was dark, but there were a few street lamps that illuminate your path. The streets were silent, and you seemed to be the only one walking down the block. You often found yourself the only one, and it was nice most nights, just listening to music on your headphones as you enjoyed your evening stroll back home.

Passing a couple of small businesses, you fiddled with the strap of your over-the-shoulder bag before you felt someone grab your upper arm, pulling you into the nearby alleyway. A shiver of fear ran down your spine, your eyes wide as you were harshly pushed up against the brick wall of a building. You felt your body suddenly feel cold, a chill running through your veins as you stared up at the man before you, pinning you to the wall.

He smirked wickedly, a grin that would probably give you nightmares. Raising his free hand, he pulled the headphones off of your ears, letting them rest around your neck before he raked his eyes across your face. You felt like you were going to be sick, and even more so when you noticed the glint of a knife as he pulled one out of his back pocket. You tried to swallow, but your throat was super dry, and you tried to speak, only for the evil stranger to tut you, shaking his head.

"Uh-uh-uh, pretty. I have something to say." His voice was dripping with venomous honey, he raised the knife, and it glinted once more in the moonlight. "Now, this is how this is going to play out. I'm going to take your bag, whatever valuables, and maybe... If you're lucky, maybe-" He glanced down at your body again, licking his lips as he grinned wolfishly, "I'll let you go." His knife brushed along your collarbone, rubbing the fabric of your shirt slightly.

You felt panic and bile rise up in your throat, trying to think of something - anything! Suddenly, you had an idea. A crazy idea. "Beetlejuice." You muttered, making the man before you raise an eyebrow, his wolfish grin becoming slightly confused.

"What?" He darkly chuckled out, twisting the knife.

"Beetlejuice." You spoke again, more clearly, the man blinked.

"Beetle-whatnow?"

Swallowing thickly, narrowing your eyes, you stared up at the man as you spoke, "Beetlejuice."

The man before you let out a laugh, staring at you as his grin returned, "I don't know what you are trying to pull, or saying, but I would suggest you just let me take want I want and-"

“Nice knife you’ve got there,” A voice suddenly said, his tone dripping with mock admiration as he appeared behind the mugger. The man jumped, turning around to see a man dressed in a tattered black and white stripe suit. The mugger narrowed his eyes, eyeing the strange red, untamed hair, and pale complexion, and the odd bits of green on his face.

"Who the living Hell are you?" He growled, still trying to sound and act tough, despite being a bit unnerved by the strange man's sudden appearance.

“I'm your worst nightmare,” Beetlejuice said with a sinister grin, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight as he took a menacing step closer to the mugger. His voice was laced with a chilling amusement that seemed to fill the alleyway with an unsettling energy. The mugger’s eyes widened in shock and confusion. Beetlejuice continued, his gaze fixed on the knife in the mugger’s hand. “As I said, nice knife you’ve got there. It would be a shame if something were to happen to it.” With a snap of his fingers, the knife began to twist and writhe, its metal surface rippling as it transformed into a black-and-white striped snake.

The mugger’s face went pale as the snake slithered around his hand, hissing and wriggling with an almost sentient anger. The mugger let out a high-pitched yelp of terror, dropping the snake and stumbling backward onto the ground. He scrambled away from the hissing, writhing creature, his eyes darting around in panic as he tripped over himself, desperate to get as far away from Beetlejuice as possible.

Beetlejuice watched with a satisfied smirk, he chuckled darkly, his laughter echoing off the alley walls. “Run along, you little creep!” Beetlejuice called out with a mocking tone. “I’ve got better things to do than play with you.” He waved dismissively, and with a snap of his fingers, the snake vanished into thin air, leaving only a faint shimmer of green smoke in its wake.

The mugger, now thoroughly panicked, scrambled to his feet and bolted from the alley, his screams fading into the distance. Beetlejuice grinned; nobody touched his breather. Beetlejuice turned his attention back to you - seeing your still-wide eyes, frozen frame, and somewhat slack jaw as the adrenaline coursed through your system; this was your first time having witnessed Beetlejuice so… Devious. His grin softened slightly at you, expressing as he approached, his hair returning to its green, with streaks of red; and hints of purple. He was worried that you were scared of him.

“Well, that was entertaining,” He said, his tone shifting to something more gentle, though still edged with his usual mischief, and you felt yourself finally breathe. "You rang-?" Beetlejuice's words were cut short when you suddenly threw your arms around him; all his worries flew out the window.

You clung to him, tears streaming down your face as the reality of the situation hit you all at once - not even taking into account his almost rotten and dead flower smell; you nuzzled your face closer. Beetlejuice was caught off guard and hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around you. The touch was new, comforting in a way you hadn’t expected; but you still feared that he might vanish into the air if you let go. He wasn’t just a ghostly presence anymore; he was solid, tangible, there. His usual bravado faltered, replaced by a hesitant, almost clumsy attempt at offering comfort. He held you close, feeling the warmth and weight of your embrace. He shut his eyes, digging his nose into your hairline, before teleporting you back to the safety of your home.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself sitting beside Beetlejuice on your couch. Reluctantly slipping out of his cold hold, you wiped the heels of your hands onto your eyes, brushing away the tears; and sniffling. Beetlejuice's hands fidgeted, the overwhelming need to reach out and hold your hand was bubbling up inside of him; he bit his bottom lip with his sharp teeth. He waited for you, waiting for you to start talking. Anything to break the heavy silence between the two of you. Finally, after a long while of hesitation, you spoke.

"I- I didn't know what to do," Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "I had to summon you... I- Thank you..." You bowed your head, and the realization that he was now free, free to leave, "You probably want to go off and do your own thing... Right? You're finally free to wander and roam and cause chaos."

His green eyes studied you, staring down at the side of your face. “Free to roam and cause chaos?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically as you looked up, your confused, wide eyes meeting his. “Oh, please, babes. Do you really think I’m just gonna waltz off into the night and leave you high and dry? Where’s the fun in that? I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well get used to it. Can’t get rid of me.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were softer, betraying a hint of sincerity as he looked at you.

"Really?" You asked, sounding somewhat unsure, "You won't- you won't leave me alone?"

"I won't leave you." He spoke, surprisingly serious, before he spoke up again - dark pink began to appear in his hair and beard - his grin growing, "Consider me your own personal demon, baby! And if you’re ever feeling lonely, well, let’s just say I’m always up for a little... Late-night company." He wiggled his eyebrows, making a giggle leave you - back to both of your old ways - you went to push him, half-expecting for your hand to phase through him, only to press against his chest. Your smile softened as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to his side.

Feeling his cold lips press a somewhat sloppy kiss to your temple, you pulled away from him slightly, looking up at him as his bright eyes met yours. "Now that you're free... What else can you do?"

Beetlejuice grinned, the mischievous glint returning in his eyes, "Oh, baby," He almost growled, "You're in for a show!"

---

Main Masterlist | Beetlejuice The Musical Masterlist

92 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 6 months ago

Note

Forgive me if I sent this ask before... I don't remember if I did 😅 but if not just know that I thought about sending it in since you started this series 🙈

For who would:

If you just hand them your baby niece or nephew or a baby you're watching for a friend (just any baby lol) who would hand it right back to you, silently hold it with a sheer look of panic till you come back and take it or be a natural and not give it back to you at all?

I love this bit of fluff and silliness for a Sunday; excellent question!

James Mace

He asks a lot of questions about what needs done or should be done. Is it changing time? How much head support should he provide? Is this a DND (do not disturb, D&D is for his own kiddos) baby ready for a nap? Is this play time? Should he be engaging the baby or keeping up conversation with the group?

Now, as to whether or not having the baby in his arms gives him any ideas: not any more than he's already had. You two have plans, you've talked about this and are on the same page, so his interactions right then have to do with that baby at that moment. He doesn't necessarily have stronger feelings when handling other people's children.

Curtis Everett

Curtis does not trust himself around babies especially. He goes extremely stiff and extremely quiet. He stares intensely. He will not do anything unless you tell him to do something with the baby. Even then he is not truly comfortable.

Babies bring up a lot of memories and emotions for him, and theoretically he knows he isn't in the same place/headspace as when he was younger, he knows babies aren't in as much danger as the old days, but he still gets so overwhelmed by it.

Yes, Curtis is even like this with his own children. He counts the days until his child is old enough to not be considered a 'baby' anymore. In fact, Curtis enjoys the memory of their infancy, pictures and videos, etc, more than he can enjoy being with them as infants.

Jimmy Dobyne

Honestly, a total natural. Small towns and rural areas mean closer-knit families, neighbors, and friends. They all help each other out. A bunch of kids shuffle around to spend afternoons here or Saturdays there. Babies get passed around to let parents get errands done or go on dates. It's not a big deal; it's just a way of life.

At this point, Jimmy has cleaned up after and fed a dozen different species of 'babies.' He's fine with it. He doesn't play much though, not with babies. Jimmy prefers when they're old enough to run around for catch or sports, etc. That's more his wheelhouse.

Johnny Storm

Fucking terrified to handle babies but LOVES entertaining them. Will do absolutely anything to make that baby laugh. To a fault sometimes because Johnny will get so animated he knocks shit over in the house or wherever you two are.

You give him credit for trying though.

Jake Jensen

Sits that baby up on his lap and continues to watch whatever screen he's focused on.

Jake isn't necessarily bad with babies, but he prefers to continue to enjoy the more adult entertainment/interactions around him. Like Jimmy, he will be more than hands-on excited once that baby can be active with their own interests (sports or otherwise) because he will participate and support 100%. Babies are just a bit too floppy and unreadable for him.

Lloyd Hansen

Thrilled to let those tiny baby fingers try to hold the grip of his switchblade. Adores how fucking angry the parents (or you) get when he plays with knives around them or has them play with the knives. Lloyd secretly finds baby facial reactions to be the funniest things on the planet--but, no, he doesn't actually like babies.

Ari Levinson

Ari is a playful papa through and through. Has more than once strapped that carrier to his chest and wondered around with someone's kiddo for whole parties. Endlessly entertained and entertaining when it comes to babies.

However, Ari really, really doesn't like when babies get grabby and pull at his hair. That shit hurts, and he hates it. Also he's oddly squeamish about spit-up and/or vomit. Technically, he is not a fan of diaper duty, like very, very, very not a fan.

Ransom Drysdale

The absolute fuck are you handing him a baby for??? Bitch, are you insane?! Be real. Seriously. Just don't.

There isn't even much improvement in this behavior when it's Ran's own child. Not a fan of the 'baby' stage, this one.

Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes

Lumping these two together because they do exactly the same things. Steve and Bucky physically treat female and male babies differently; they are sweet and cooing with girls, and then they talk about or mimic sports things with boys. They don't mean to be presumptive in this behavior, just do it be default.

Neither is afraid to roll their sleeves up and help with feeding or changing. They'll give equal attention to the baby and the group around you. They will both happily sit/stand/walk around with a napping baby in their arms--although they aren't thrilled to be unable to help with other stuff while they have no available hands.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would...? Asks List; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81

@bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710

112 notes · View notes

candycandy00 · 8 months ago

Text

So I thought I’d introduce the concepts for my JJK Fairytale AU. Some of you sent in some interesting suggestions, but in the end I decided to go with the most famous fairytales that would fit. I’m already writing the first one, Gojo x Cinderella. You’ll notice some of these ideas are more developed than others. Here are the others I plan to write.

Please vote for which one you’re most interested in! I’ll write them all but I’m curious about how much interest people have. It might affect the order I write them in.

Geto x Little Red Riding Hood

Reader is a young woman traveling through the dangerous woods to reach a safe house. This is a kingdom ravaged by war, and she’s a medic. She has medicine and supplies that she needs to bring to a military safe house to treat some injured soldiers there, but there’s a big bad wolf (Geto) stalking her. He was an enemy soldier she saved once, now turned into a werewolf, and hungry for her in more ways than one.

Toji x Snow White

Reader is a beautiful young woman living in a small rural village. There’s a huntsman who lives close by (Toji) who is a lot older than her, but she has a bit of a crush on him. For his part, he thinks she’s pretty but also thinks she’s too young for him (she’s like 20, he’s late 30’s). So he mostly ignores her. He’s known for being an excellent hunter and gets hired to go hunt dangerous animals in the woods. The evil queen hires him to take Snow White into the woods and kill her, but once he actually spends time with her, he might decide to just keep her.

Choso x Rapunzel

Reader is gathering herbs in the forest and stumbles upon an old watch tower inhabited by a cute but antisocial hermit (Choso) who seems sweet and keeps talking about his brothers who are “out” and will be back any minute. She starts visiting him regularly because she likes him, but she suspects his brothers might be dead and he just can’t face it. One day she gets attacked by a wild boar and injures her ankle. Choso finds her and takes her back to the tower. She faints and wakes up to find that he’s locked her in the top of the tower and won’t let her leave, because he’s afraid she’ll leave and never come back, just like his brothers. Choso as a classic Yandere. Reader’s only plan is to grow her hair out long enough to make a rope with it to escape.

Higuruma x Little Mermaid

Reader is a mermaid in love with a lawyer who lives in a coastal town and specializes in shipping contracts (Higuruma). She makes a deal with the sea witch and signs the contract to get human legs in exchange for her voice, but when she formally meets Higuruma, she ends up showing him the contract. He’s flattered that she did all this for him, but (like in the original story) the new legs cause her terrible pain, every step feeling like walking on glass (seriously the original story was fucked up). Will this genius lawyer be able to find a loophole in her contract and free her?

Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty

Reader is a princess who was cursed at birth. If she ever pricks her finger on a needle, she’ll fall into a deep sleep/coma. Her parents recently died, leaving her as the young ruler. Her first step is to hire a new captain of the guard, a mysterious and powerful man rumored to be a murderer (Sukuna). She’s instantly attracted to him, and despite her obvious flirting, he rejects her everytime, smugly saying a dainty princess like her couldn’t handle him. But when she ends up pricking her finger, Sukuna recognizes the curse, and knows that she’s still aware of everything, can still feel and hear everything. And the only way to break the curse is to fuck her.

Nanami x Beauty and the Beast

Since multiple people mentioned wanting Reader to be the Beast, I’m going for it! That’s right, Beast Tamer Nanami! Reader was cursed by a witch to be a beast (she’s still cute though, more like a lil bunny girl lol) and her royal parents are ashamed of her so they banish her to a secluded castle. Then they hire Nanami to take care of the place (and Reader).

#geto x reader #toji x reader #choso x reader #sukuna x reader #higuruma x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut

65 notes · View notes

hihigherdi · 1 month ago

Text

When I was at the Al Brooks talk, I kept thinking about how much I loved writing when I was younger, when I first got here to San Francisco. I have so many stories from the different retail places I’ve worked – Nordstrom, Microsoft, where I am now - where I climbed and then fell off the corporate ladders year after year while going to therapy to deal with all of the personal stuff that the jobs surfaced

I might drop a few entries here of that old writing stuff as I think about what could be new.

Love is the Elixir

He came well recommended though he lived in the country. My friends and I share a prejudice regarding rural America, we’re too cynical to appreciate its undiscovered charms. Sure, we like the ponies and the idea of antiquing but when you haul that stuff back to the house? All you really have is an old busted up bench that’s really uncomfortable. Where I’m from, everybody knows that the best part of small towns is the hope that you’ll come across a rogue A&W so you can drink the perfect root beer float. As with most small towns, the road turned into more roads and suddenly, I was there.

You’d think a therapist’s office in the country would at least have some kind of white picket fence. Maybe one of those Desidrata welcome mats or a winsome little sign on a wooden door that said “We’re just two chickens clucking around”.

I’m nervous even writing this.

But instead I was greeted by a pasture filled with Longhorn cattle, the kind that seems to only live in Texas or a Chuck Norris film. You know – America. But seriously, Longhorn cattle? In my therapeutic experience? That was unexpected. I parked my little city slicker car so terribly out of place, wandered up to the fence and eye-balled a big male. It was a “he” based on the size of its…hooves. It lumbered over and eye-balled me right back.

Hello cow.

I knew he probably deserved a more majestic greeting but my whispered hi there was further indictment of why I was there in the first place (I had no opening lines with males of any kind).

I tentatively opened up the little country door to the little country house. A deafening wave of classical music coming from upstairs hit me square in the face from a room somewhere upstairs. It was the music that someone who had to sit on the other side of other peoples’ crazy needs to absorb between appointments. I felt guilty that we put him through it.

I waited in the obligatory little room where people like me wait. Leather-bound books and a cozy chair that felt like it had been born there. And a poster that simply read “Love is the Elixir of the Universe.” While I sunk into the chair and silently panicked, a little Corgi waddled her way inside. I stroked her back, admired her little belly and told her so. Feeling my heart slow just a little. Would I still have need of a therapist had I invested in a dog two years ago? What about a cat? A bird would have sent me there years earlier, I knew that much.

The music stopped. A disembodied voice cut through the silence and called for me without using my name. One part Indian, one part British all the rest of it weary. I’d been rejected by enough men to know he didn’t want me there which was fine, fuck you Mr.Tired Voice, I didn’t exactly want to be there either.

He was an old man. Surprisingly little. Glasses. Bare feet. God. Bare feet, come on.

He sat in his chair. I sat in the couch. He didn’t look at me, didn’t say hello. Just started writing on a note pad. We sat there for a good minute or two in total silence. If someone could have harnessed my nervous energy a few more polar bears would be alive today. Did you read the Wall Street Journal article suggesting that nervous energy is extremely productive? It can create things like biodegradable fuel that people outside of Berkeley actually care about and save animals that are extinct. Maybe you’re reading this, you’re smart enough to make that happen and you just haven’t because you’re nervous but you’re lazy. Do you feel badly now that you know you could have done something for the bears? If not you should, you really should.

Why are you here.

I’m here to let go of a relationship I never really had that may have wrecked me.

So you’re crazy then.

(Go to hell you elitist, classical music-listening, cotton shirt-wearing, creepy barefoot longhorn cattle-owning clearly height compensating narcissist.)

Well it feels that way sometimes. But I don’t want to be.

What happens if you really are wrecked.

At least I’ll know. That has to be good. It’s the not knowing that’s hard.

But don’t you already know?

(Jesus asked, Do you really want to get well?)

I suppose I do. I guess I want to be something more than wrecked from someone who should have never wrecked me in the first place.

Will you tell the truth?

Yes. (too quick)

…I don’t think I know how.

So you’re a liar.

(He SEES. Get out. Make him like you. But he won’t. He sees you.)

I don’t have much to lose so I guess I will. It’s weird how long it took to get here, how tightly one can cling to something that doesn’t even exist, that’s all in my head but false hope seems to be postponed grief. So yes, I’ll be honest. Maybe it’s easy to be honest when one is at the bottom of things.

Is that it?

Is what it?

Silence.

What are you afraid of most?

That I’ll charm you and you won’t be able to see me and I will leave with the relief of knowing that I’ve fooled you like I’ve fooled everybody else. And the despair of knowing that I did.

You know all that is up to you.

That’s what scares me the most.

It should.

I may not be ready for this. I may not be capable.

No one ever is. Isn’t that beautiful.

23 notes · View notes

unhappy-last-resort · 10 months ago

Text

The Puppet In A Forest (Yandere Roland x GN Reader)

Warnings: forced kissing, bone breaking, drugging, implied minor surgery performed without readers consent, tracking

A/N: I apologize for any stiff writing or grammar mistakes. This was literally just supposed to be this short little 1 AM thing for his birthday and it fucking spiraled into this

Status: edited

You wade through crystal waters, fireflies twinkling around you like little stars in the night and comforting you ever so slightly, the quiet chirping of crickets in the distance is calming enough to make you almost forget there was an ongoing war outside this place, but unfortunately not enough to make you forget why you're here. The letters you received six hours ago have led you to an rural town in the outskirts of Kowloong, to a pond with bamboo growing in its edges.

You suck in a breath and steady your grip on your gun. You really shouldn't be here, not for the reasons you're weaving through towering rods of bamboo, anyway. Your heart tussles with itself, one part saying that you should turn back, the other telling you to push forward. Meeting an Ascendant isn't just dangerous to your prestigious position as Gray Ravens commandant, but also physically.

You're going to the coordinates you found inside the Russian dolls Roland sent you and the thought that it's just a trap has never once left your mind. Roland is a trickster, murderer, manipulator, and an actor, there is absolutely no reason you shouldn't have forwarded those letters to Hassen and Nikola, no reason for you to be here alone, and no reason for you to feel a painful tug in your heart when you read the last line of his second letter.

"I'll be waiting for you and gladly accept whatever you have for me, whether it's a bullet, a restraint, or an Activation Date gift."

In your uncertainty, you've prepared all three, your gun loaded and drawn at any potential danger, the restraints dangling off your hip, and a small box of chocolates sitting securely in your bag. It's unconventional for a birthday gift, but you don't have time to look, or make something more appropriate and frankly, there's no reason for you to put more effort in. You're enemies, not friends, and you don't owe anything to him.

You keep moving, the mud of the ponds floor squishing beneath your thigh high boots, the water beneath you littered with fallen leaves from the bamboo above you. Gradually, the bamboo starts to thin out, easing you into a small empty space. There's a rock sitting in the center, bathed by the moonlight as fireflies dance around it.

You can't see anyone, or a sign that anyone was here to begin with, although it's not like you'd find much in a shallow pond at night. You carefully feel out the ground ahead of you before stepping forward, it's easy to fall for the illusion of ground beneath you and end up much more wet than you intended and it'd be much harder to explain your little trip to your team if you came back dripping wet.

You reach the center of the clearing and look around. No one's here, it's just you. The water sloshes and ripples with every movement you make, announcing your presence to the surrounding silence...was it always this quiet?

Plunk.

You whip around, gun pointed in the direction of the sound as you glare into the dark, as if the very darkness itself would somehow lift to reveal what hides inside it. You stay like that for half a minute, ears and eyes straining for movement, but there is none. No more noises, just silence. It's only now do you realize that the fireflies that were here have disappeared, as if they'd been scared off by something, but what could scare a bunch of bugs?

You look around again, re-observing your surroundings. You look down and see these tiny little black dots in the water, confused you reach down and scoop one up in your palm and bring it close to your face.

It's an insect, it looks like a firefly. Your eyebrows furrow and you check your terminal, scanning the air quality...nothing. Punishing levels are low, and nowhere near fatal for a human, and there are no other toxins present in the air. You rack your brains, trying to think of anything that might cause a bunch of bugs to just die like this, but you come up with nothing.

You inspect the bug again, as if there's anything else a simple big would be hiding-

Wait.

There are tiny, inconspicuous little ball joints on each of its legs, and a very thin seam where the body connects to its abdomen, which on closer inspection is just an LED light trapped in a casing. It's mechanical. It's a fake. You've been surrounded by hundreds of mechanical bugs since you came to the clearing, maybe since you first stepped foot near the pond.

You drop it from your hand, it's body making a small plink sound as it falls into the water. You sigh and look up, only to find yourself caught in the gaze of a pair of eyes.

A figure clad in black and white with grey hair stands as still as a statue. His hair is undone and pulled forward, his long locks falling over his shoulders, his eyes glow like jewels in the moonlight, the cool tones of his outfit making his eyes stand out even more.

"Prefiero un minuto contigo a una eternidad sin ti." He whispers, the silence around us making even the quietest whispers apparent. "I never thought you would come. Hah...I thought I'd made myself a fool again."

You sigh through your nose, your grip on your gun is tight, but pointed at the water. In your shock you hadn't pointed it at him, your mind still trying to fathom how many fake fireflies there were and what else around you was an illusion that, you hadn't thought of giving yourself a defensive position. And getting into one now may escalate things.

"You're always a fool." You mutter ruefully, keeping your eyes on his. "Why would you think your enemy would respond to you?"

A grin stretches across his face, growing wider until he bursts into a chuckle. "Well, you did, didn't you? Besides," He pauses, smile dropping into a deadpan. "I did say I wanted to get you out, no matter what. Didn't I?"

"What would you have done if the letters hadn't worked, then?"

Another chuckle. "Oh, wouldn't my little rabbit like to know? Tell you what, if you can win my game, I'll tell you."

Roland starts moving towards you, he moves silently, so much so that if you hadn't seen the water moving you would have thought he was a ghost or a figment of imagination. It was like he was one with the space around him, seamlessly fitting in as if he belonged there- as if he was always there.

You breath, feeling more anxious by the moment as Roland closes in at a steady pace. "What game?"

"It's just a simple question, if you answer correctly you win, if you don't..." He smiles again.

"...What happens if I lose?"

"Hmm....I get to take a present from you." He stops at arms reach from you, smile still plastered on his face and an undeniable glee glinting in his eyes.

"I already brought you one though." His eyes widened in surprise, his smile faltering for a moment.

"You really brought me a gift? Here I was expecting you to restrain me and bring me back to Babylonia."

You watch him for a moment before reaching a hand into the bag at your hip, Roland's eyes flickering from your hand to your face, the flurry of emotions behind them tells you he's as desperate as he is distrusting of you right now. Slowly, you pull out the chocolates and hand it to him.

"Aww, do you really have to be so stiff?" He chuckles, tilting his head slightly, it felt half mocking, half curious as he graciously took the box from you and gingerly opens it.

"Oh my, this is quite a romantic gift. Could it be the Gray Raven Commandant is harboring feelings for an Ascendant?" He muses, feigning shock.

You roll your eyes and attempt to snatch the box out of his hand. "I can always take it back."

He leans back, looking almost offended, keeping the chocolates out of your reach. "Of course not! Anything from you is treated with the utmost care."

"But this is the first time you're getting something from me?"

He smiles, popping a chocolate in his mouth before tucking the box away in his coat. "Well now, should we start the game?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Is this place real, or an illusion?" He stares at you, smile still on his face as the question hangs in the silence.

"...What?"

"Is it real, or an illusion?"

His expression is indiscernible, emotions hidden behind the thick curtain of a jester's smile. The silence of the area you're in is deafening, the previous chirps of crickets had long gone, leaving you and Roland in a pool of knee deep water, sprinkled with mechanical bugs on its surface.

As much as those things may have been fake, you were certain the rest couldn't be. The lake, the bamboo, those things had to be real. The amount of materials required to do something isn't something Roland would have access to, not to mention the time required.

"It's real."

He looks pleased, too pleased for your liking. "Is that your final answer?"

You hesitate. Are you wrong? Or is that just what he wants you to think? Indecision rips at your mind, your thoughts circling each other over and over, never getting any closer to an answer. Is he playing a trick, or are you overthinking? But he looked so happy when you said it was real, so you must've gotten it wrong, right?

"Uh...No!" You fumble, almost out of desperation. Your answer swings like a pendulum in your mind.

"No?" He drawls, putting a hand to his chin as he watches you.

"No...it's fake." You breath.

Roland raises a brow. "Are you sure?"

You suck in a breath, if you take it back again, you'll just be stuck in a never ending loop of second guessing yourself. "Yes."

Roland laughs and it makes you flinch, it feels especially loud in your ears for some reason. "Alea jacta est. Congratulations, my dear little puppet."

He announces with all his usual bravado as he closes the distance between you two. Alarmed you move back only for his hand to grip your wrist, rendering your hand with the gun useless. You pull at your arm as hard as you can, but you only succeed in earning a chuckle from him.

He pulls you close and before you can realize what's going on you feel lips press against yours in a greedy, pawing kiss. His teeth nip at your bottom lips, his tongue swiping over and attempting to push through your lips. You resist, refusing to open your mouth and using all your strength to break yourself free.

"Quit struggling." Roland grunts and twists your wrist unnaturally, a snap sounding up your arm and you open your mouth to scream, only for it to never make it out into the world and being swallowed by Roland instead.

His tongue explores every inch of your mouth with a fervor that speaks of an untold longing and desperation, an insatiable need that quickly overwhelms you with the pain in your wrist.

You feel drowsy, the edges of your vision blurring as continues his forced affection. You try to fight it, but you can't, your vision fading on a string of saliva between you and eyes of amber and ruby aglow like flames.

You gasp, your heart pounding as you stare at the wooden beams above you. It takes you a moment to realize you're in the abandoned tea house, the one you and your team decided to camp in.

You sit up slowly, your sleeping bag rustling quietly as you move. Your head hurts and you feel woozy just from sitting up, it takes you a moment to realize one of your wrists is bandaged, although it doesn't feel like it was done well despite it appearing to be wrapped properly.

You groan, how did you end up hurting your wrist again? Everything feels so foggy in your head that you can't remember.

"Hey Command- what the hell?" A captain dashes over to you, you vaguely remember his name being Casper.

Ah, that's right. You were sent on a mission to Kowloong to help assist a team that had gone for artifact retrieval. The battle ended a while ago and your team agreed to wait until day break to return to Babylonia.

Casper looks flustered, gently bringing your arm up to inspect your cast.

"Hey, Didi! Get Mao and have him dress a wound the Commandant got!" He yells to the door before turning back to you. "How did you do this? You should've asked one of us to help you if you didn't know how to wrap your injury."

You consider saying something, but instead you give a half-hearted smile and apologize. You don't want to cause them more grief than you likely already have.

An airy chuckle dances in the wind as the transport craft from Babylonia lifts off with its passengers. Pointlessly, Roland waves it goodbye as if you could see it- not like you'd appreciate it even if you did. Maybe you'd even hate him by now, if you hadn't before.

Still, like a fool he clung to the hope that you'd be someone he could count on. No, that's not quite right. Something he could own, a person he could claim for himself and not share with others.

As much as the temptation to whisk you away as you rested unconscious in his arms was deliciously enticing, he would be a fool to think he could protect you from Babylonia's lackeys, let alone in this old frame. Without a doubt the best of the best would come from you and he had difficulty enough with just Gray Raven, and that Kamui fellow and his original have been a pain too. The only way he'd be able to do that now would be to go to Der Meister himself and he made his skin crawl. He would never trust the likes of him with Luna, or you.

For now, he'll just have to settle with knowing where you are. He did his best to make sure everything was sterile when he made the incision, although he was still worried that it might get infected...Oh well, even if it did and that tracker got discovered, there are still others among your things, so it won't be that big of a deal.

"La vie est une fleur dont l'amour est le miel. 'Til we meet again, my dear."

#unhappy writings #pgr yandere roland #yandere pgr #yandere pgr x reader #yandere roland x reader #yandere #yandere punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #punishing gray raven roland #pgr fanfic #pgr fic #tw.noncon #tw.yandere #yandere writer #yandere fic #yancore

85 notes · View notes

kqutie · 21 days ago

Text

EPIC : THE FAIR MAIDEN (platonic ver.)

CHAPTER ONE : THE HUNGER ENDS

relations. : platonic various epic characters/reader -- platonic odysseus/reader ; platonic polites/reader ; platonic eurylochus/reader ; platonic elpenor/reader ; platonic perimedes/reader ; platonic odysseus' crew/reader

chpt. sum. : The crew get acquainted with your villagers while you discover a stranger washed up on your sandy beaches. You know exactly what to do... poke, poke, poke!

tags. : female, mute reader ; pure comfort ; reader is a comfort gamer ; animal crossing new horizons game mechanics ; the crew are be simping ; crew have puppy love ; isekai and transmigration ; fix it fic ; characters know their future ; happy ending for everyone!

length. : 8.3k

a/n : Welcome to the pure platonic version of my EPIC: The Fair Maiden series, where I kinda got carried away with my Hermes simp-ery and self-indulgence.

The two versions will read largely the same but this version is for the darlings who don't want the romance and are here purely for comfort. I will do my best to make the two versions distinct, however, so that nobody gets confused and knows exactly what they're in for when choosing the one they would like to read. I WILL be keeping the puppy love aspect of the crew towards the reader though haha! That's too fun of a plot device to take away entirely (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)

navi. | series m.list

Before they could be sent back, Odysseus took a moment to lovingly bid his beloved Penelope and only son, Telemachus goodbye while the gods pledge not to interfere with his journey home as long as he doesn’t make the same mistakes. If they should encounter each other again, they will not be courteous and everything will unfold as it had been told to them in the musical.

The ending left you with a feeling of hope. In the universe of that fanfic, Odysseus will know what to do for a brighter future and you have full confidence in him fulfilling that – he is the warrior of the mind, after all.

It was still rather cold outside and leading into the evening, you were eager to bundle up in your giant beanbag chair with a blanket to play your favourite comfort game: Animal Crossing: New Horizons. First things first, however, you float into the kitchen to brew some tea and prepare a small plate of snacks. You have a lot of plans for your gaming session tonight. Your island was going under a huge revamp. For your new aesthetic, you’re leaning into a cottage-core theme, something rustic with flourishing wildlife, trees, flowers and beaten paths. You were going to miss your fun, rural town island but you’re very excited about the cosy vibes a countryside theme would bring. You’re sure the change will only elevate the cosiness of the game.

It was going to be a huge undertaking but you’ve paid all your loans, gathered all the recipes, furniture and miscellaneous items, played the DLC, unlocked everything there is to unlock, collected all the fish, bugs and art to display in the museum, and you have an island full of villagers you adore. Revamping the island is the most exciting thing you can do now that you’ve played the game to the fullest. Hence why you were preparing your favourite snacks to have with your best blend of tea. Even though you’ve technically ‘completed’ the game, you’re still eager to play it over and over again.

Hopping into your island, you begin by erasing all your previous terraforming and rearranging your rivers and lakes. Everything you wanted to include had been planned out beforehand, all your new island decorative pieces were ready in your storage and you had your iPad with your mood board and notes showcasing your detailed plans at your side as well. Everything was going as planned. Your character was also wearing the perfect custom-designed dress for the occasion. It’s a long, flowing white sundress with blue accents that you’ve paired with the cutest white platform heels. It always makes you giggle to see your character wearing the construction hat with such a cute dress — it adds so much charm.

As ‘Polyphemus’ begins to play, you shudder and press your lips into a thin line. This is the point where everything begins to change for Odysseus and your heart drops every time. However, you’re reminded of the recent fanfic you read and hope the author takes the time to write a follow-up where the characters change their fates for the better. You adore them all so much; you want everyone to have their happy endings, especially Odysseus.

Focusing back on your island, you’re finally happy with the layout and bring out your wooden shed to begin decorating, pulling things directly from your storage. However, where the storage menu should be showing, there’s only a black screen.

“What’s happening?” you ask yourself and press the buttons of your Nintendo switch randomly, confused at the suddenly unresponsive screen, “I thought this was fully charged…?” just as you begin to manoeuvre out of your curled-up seating, a sudden lightheadedness washes over you, making your eyes squint in confusion before you’re finally pulled into the same darkness as your screen.

⊹ ࣪﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪˖

Odysseus etches the image of his wife and son’s faces into the forefront of his mind. They’ve been his anchor throughout the ten-year war with Troy and now that they’ve won and are on their way back home, he needs them more than anything —especially now that he knows the potential future ahead. Determined to avoid such anguish, Odysseus, commands his entire fleet to avoid following the birds despite their dwindling food stores. Having also witnessed their potential future, his men readily oblige.

“I’ll make it home soon, I promise,” Odysseus promised his loving wife, remembering the love and worry in her beautiful eyes. They were the same eyes he had fallen for, soaked in a familiar affection that only seemed to grow after witnessing their potential future. Nothing had changed. She still loved him and that was a huge comfort.

“I know… I love you,” he replies with a searing kiss, desperate and messy after ten years apart. Pulling away, he looks fondly at his son who looks at him with admiration and love thinly veiled by worry. Looking at Telemachus felt like looking into a mirror, all except for the eyes he shared with his mother. His son had the same head of wild hair as his own, the same strong nose and straight brows as his own.

“I don’t want you to go yet…” there were unshed tears in his son’s quiet plea and Odysseus had to pull his ten-year-old son into a bone-crushing hug.

“I won’t be long. I know what to do now. I’ll get home soon,” Odysseus promises into his son’s crown and presses a firm kiss through his brown curls. Pulling away, he stares fondly into Telemachus’ eyes, his beautiful son. Had he ever seen a boy so perfect before? Only his wife could create such beauty and perfection, “Take care of your mother while I’m away,”

Telemachus launches himself into his father’s arms once again, burying his face into his strong shoulder, “Always, father,”

That final interaction has been replaying in Odysseus’ mind ever since he returned to the boat he and his crew had suddenly been swept away from. It felt like so much time had passed but they were returned to the exact location and time they were first taken from. What an experience that had been. A blessing and a curse all at once. To bear witness to such a horrific future was harrowing but Odysseus would take it as a lesson learned. He won’t risk the life of his best friends nor his crew ever again. They had survived the war against Troy, all 600 of them; they should be able to return home unharmed.

“Odysseus, my friend,” Polites’ familiar voice calls to him, bright and merry but with a heavy weight upon it. He understands the reason without needing to ask.

“Polities,” they greet each other with a smile, “I know you’re worried about our stores but we can survive without them until we find another island,” Polities doesn’t protest but nods in understanding. There’s a pause that stretches on but not in discomfort. The two merely absorb the moment, comforted by the knowledge that they have avoided a massive turning point in their journey.

“We are here for you, my friend. All I wanted was to make that clear,” Polites looks at the crew rowing at the paddles, keeping a leisurely pace. “We are loyal to you, our captain, who has led us to victory after ten years,” Odysseus smiles and nods demurely at his best friend in silent appreciation, “that future has not happened yet, nor will it ever happen. I know that you will make sure of that.”

“If the crew should ever act up, we will be there,” Eurylachous steps up to the two of them with a somewhat hesitant air, his posture stiff. Events of the mutiny he led against his brother-in-law and friend had not been able to leave his mind ever since his first viewing. The tall second commander shudders to think of himself ever becoming the shrivelled-up, hungry, desperate and vengeful man who dared go against the captain he had first betrayed by opening the windbag. He was determined to avoid such a fate. What a sorry fool he had turned out to be. It was unbecoming and he had since been congested with guilt.

Odysseus and Eurylochus silently take in the other. Eurylachous with a boulder of guilt in the pit of his stomach as Odysseus wears an unreadable expression. They were supposed to be brothers, friends, comrades. The people they had become in that future were not them now, and it will never be them. Ctimene’s face appears in his mind. They share a similar goal; to return home, to the wives they adore and had fought the grueling war for.

The tension is broken by Odysseus who brings his arms up to wrap around their shoulders and pull them close, “Thank you, my friends,” All three share a smile and savour the bond they share. It was one they valued all the more now that they knew of their potential fates, and it was a bond they were unwilling to sever. If they could make it out of Troy victorious after ten years of conflict, they could easily protect each other and the friendship they share. “We will make it home. I swear it.”

⊹ ࣪﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪˖

It had been several days and yet, there was no island on the horizon, meaning no food to hunt and feed his men. Odysseus’ mind was reeling. This cannot be. Surely there would be some kind of island they could set anchor nearby. After taking the proper steps to avoid the worst future they could possibly think of, had Odysseus inadvertently condemned his men to a much more painful and agonising fate? Slowly, his men across all 12 ships had stopped rowing; they no longer had the energy. And the winds were close to nonexistent, providing no aide to his fleet’s sails. Should they have docked at the Cyclops’ island anyway but made a proper plan to steal the sheep instead? But that was too high of a risk, and everyone agreed that it was not worth it. What tragic luck was this? Was his crew doomed to never return home alive with him as their captain? Was the miracle they were blessed with a waste, now that he had given the wrong command?

“Captain!” Elpenor’s— their youngest crew member —shout brings him out of his spiralling thoughts and directs his, as well as everyone’s attention to a wooden structure that had suddenly appeared on their boat.

“What is that?”

“This wasn’t in that musical,”

“How did it get on our ship?”

“It has a door, should we look inside?” Polites comments, reaching for the handle only to be stopped by Odysseus.

“Let me open it,” he turns to everyone else and loudly commands that they step back and prepare for what may come from opening the door. After taking a slow breath in and slowly releasing, Odysseus finally flings the door back and jumps to the side as a body falls in a heap at his feet.

The crowd circle the figure and are shocked to find a woman . She looks foreign with clothes they have never seen before. Where had she come from? Odysseus looks back at the slim wooden structure to find it already closed. Polites was the first to kneel beside her, cradling her head and gently urging the strange woman awake.

“Polites, step away from her!” Odysseus commands as Eurylochus unsheaths his large sword and prepares for a potential threat.

“She looks harmless, Captain,”

“That’s no excuse to let your guard down,” Odysseus snaps, flashes of another dark future playing in his mind. Had avoiding one grizzly fate led to another, darker one?

Polities gives him a judging look, “Open arms, Captain,” his best friend wasn’t getting the point. Although Odysseus was appreciative of his friend’s boundless optimism, he wasn’t going to take any chances.

“Just keep your distance, we don’t know how much of a threat she is until she’s awake. And if she is a threat, you’ll be the first in her way of attack!” Odysseus’ words don’t even allow a single drop of doubt to taint Polites’ determined stare.

“Wait look! She’s waking up!” Eurylochus points his sword and gets into a familiar, battle stance, ready to pounce.

“Polities! Get. Back!”

⊹ ࣪﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪˖

Groaning, you turn away from the harsh lighting shining down on you and nuzzle into a comforting warmth.

“It’s alright, Captain,” a distant voice assures, the shouting that follows only pushing you into the comfortable warmth further, unknowing of the effect your innocent action has on the individual currently holding your head in his lap. “She means no harm,” you then feel gentle pats over your head as the same kind voice urges you awake, “Hey there… can you wake up for us?”

Propelled to respect the kind and gentle stranger’s request, you brave against the harsh sun and will your eyes open. Blinking rapidly, you adjust to the world around you as you’re helped to a sitting position. You part your lips to ask what’s going on but no sound comes out and your confusion is evident on your face.

“Hi there,” a warm face greets you, pushing away the confusion and worry at your sudden muteness. Gazing at the man before you, you can’t help but lean in with interest. His face feels familiar and you’re drawn to the curiosity of it. He wears square glasses and adorns rich, chestnut curls that fall over a headband. His skin is sunkissed and a little sunken into his angular bone structure, which makes you worry slightly, he doesn’t look healthy at all. He looks starved. “Uhh..” Polites smiles shyly as you reach up to cup his cheek with furrowed brows, “My name is Polites, can you tell us who you are, fair maiden?”

You finally register the murmurs surrounding you and mutely gasp when you realise you’re surrounded by a circle of men, dressed in clothes typical of ancient Greek times. Everyone had the same sunken, unhealthy appearance as Polites. What was happening?

“My friend asked you a question. Answer him at once!” a cold metal touches the underside of your chin and you’re forced to look up the body of a large sword and into the eyes of another recognisable figure. Eurylochus.

This can’t be…

Shaking your head in disbelief and denial of the situation, you fall back into Polites’ arms, who sternly waves away his dark-skinned friend. “Sheath your sword, friend, she means no harm…” Polites’ arms circle you but he doesn’t pull you further into him, leaving space for breath between your body and his own. It was more comforting than you anticipated as you press your face into his shoulder, trying to deny the reality you were in right now. “Captain, Odysseus, please ,”

A sigh draws your attention away from Polites’ shoulder and towards a broad-shouldered man with bronze skin, dark, wavy hair and an imposing air of confidence and charm about him. Distinguishing him from the rest, he wears a purple cloak that’s secured with a gold pin on his shoulder; he’s the captain. Odysseus. Are you in the EPIC: The Musical Universe? Is this a dream?

“...if she meant to do harm, she would have done so already. Sheath your sword, friend,” Odysseus nods towards Eurylochus’ sword.

“Yes Captain,” the second in command readily complies.

Finally breathing in relief, you turn back to Polites and take his hand into both of yours to shake happily in greeting. The solid feeling on his hand makes this feel less and less like a dream, which makes you all the happier that they don’t see you as a threat anymore. Otherwise, you would have become fish food. However, dream or reality, you were going to live this to the fullest as an EPIC fan. Your actions make the crowd release the tension in their shoulders. A handshake is a sign of peace and shows the absence of a weapon in one’s hands; Polites was right to believe in your innocence.

“Haha! See, Captain?” Polites smiles at Odysseus, who shakes his head in disbelief but smiles regardless. Trust Polites, to make such quick friends, “May we know your name?” Polites asks after returning his attention to you. Frowning sadly, you shake your head and tap against your throat. You go as far as to part your lips and attempt to speak but nothing comes out. “Can you… can you not talk?”

You shake your head in confirmation and miss the sadness shared between the men surrounding you both. “How should we address you then?” Odysseus asks aloud and you shrug your shoulders. You don’t really mind how they refer to you, so long as it wasn’t hurtful.

“As long as it’s of no offence to you, can we call you by any name?” Polites asks, to which you readily nod and he smiles before thinking deeply, “How about we refer to you as fair maiden? It’s simple and you’re the only maiden here so, everyone will easily know it’s you,” without complaints, you nod and hear a murmur of the nickname amongst the group make its rounds; the crew testing the name for themselves. It makes you smile shyly. Although you love the main characters, you always adored the background vocals of the crew and to hear their murmurings was a little flustering.

“How did you get here? Do you know?” Odysseus takes a knee beside you and you try not to look visibly awestruck by the closeness, “You fell out of that thing,” the captain points towards a familiar, slim wooden shed. It looks exactly like the shed you failed to access the contents of before you blacked out on Animal Crossing. Curiously, you stand and make your way over to the shed, the crowd parting and staring with interest as you do so.

Opening the door, a familiar storage menu screen finally reveals itself to you. And it’s full to the brim with all of your collected items from Animal Crossing. From the curious but unruffled looks in the crowd surrounding you, it doesn’t seem as though they can see the storage screen and you immediately close the shed door to shake your head ‘no’ at Odysseus, who looks disappointed but has no choice but the accept the unsatisfactory news. However, his expression lightens when his eyes drift upwards.

The Captain turns to his men and sends them to their stations at the oars, “Follow those birds, no matter how far they may lead us, it will be towards land. We have another mouth to feed so full speed ahead!” his words make your eyes widen and rush forward with your arms outstretched, waving your hands side to side and shaking your head — a clear expression against his command. In the distance, you can tell that Odysseus’ fleet is still composed of its full 12 ships so he will be leading them to Polyphemus’ island, where everything will take a turn for the worst and you don’t think you’re capable of going through such horrors first hand.

Odysseus narrows his eyes at you, “What do you mean ‘no’?” he pauses for thought, “...do you know about the Cyclops too?” you’re shocked at his words. How could he know about the Cyclops if he has yet to set foot on the island? And if he’s already done so, why was Polites still alive?

You nod slowly. You do know about the Cyclops…

“We’re long past the Cyclops’ island, days past it, in fact,” he looks at you with caution, “...how do you know about the Cyclops?” Naturally, being unable to speak, you can’t explain your circumstances articulately but that was no longer satisfactory for the captain. Odysseus looks you up and down, taking in the unusual attire clothing you. It doesn’t look like any garments he has ever seen before. It’s a beautiful garment he would love to see on his wife but its unfamiliar style raises his suspicions, “What are you doing here? Are you another test from the gods? They promised not to interfere with my journey home unless I make the same mistakes as in that musical’s future!” your eyes widen at his words and you make the slow realisation that you’re not only in the universe of EPIC but specifically in the aftermath of the reaction fanfic you had just finished reading. You remember hoping the author would continue with a series that has the characters taking active steps to avoid their tragic fates.

The hostility being raised against you, from the Captain, no less, didn’t bode well, however, so you rush back to your shed. You don’t know why you have your animal crossing storage shed but you were going to use it. It may be your only way of expressing your peacefulness without a voice.

Opening the storage once more, you search through the categorised panels and select a basket of bread with your finger. The instant it’s selected, the basket of freshly baked bread appears in your arms and you turn to Odysseus with a smile, outstretching the offering as a token of your peaceful intentions.

Odysseus stares at your offering of bread with a dropped jaw, similar to the one Eurylochus was displaying. How could you have been able to store freshly baked bread in such an innocuous structure? It was Polites who jumped forward with a shout of glee, “Fresh bread! My friends, look!” His words draw the attention of the crew from where they’re actively rowing the oars. The sight of food makes them stop and slowly approach with grumbling stomachs, eyes wide and mouths watering. The closer they get, the more potent the smell of fresh bread becomes and there’s a chorus of grumbling stomachs surrounding you. “Is this for us?” Polites looks at you with a smile that widens when you nod in affirmation.

“Wait! You take the first bite,” Eurylochus insists, cautious after witnessing their encounter with Circe. The rest of the crew heed his words and reel back as if subjected to an electric shock. They had almost forgotten the cautionary tale of the musical. Everyone now watches you with judging eyes. Taking no offence, you select a small bun and bite into it with a grin. Everyone around you watches with bated breath but cheers when you swallow and there are no negative side effects. Food! Finally!

“Thank you,” Polites nods at you with a grateful smile before distributing the basket to the crew members. Behind him, Odysseus is left speechless but soon meets your eyes with a similarly grateful expression. He and Eurylochous nod in thanks, which you bow in return to. The tension between you had fully evaporated. The crew do their best to evenly ration out the bread but a singular basket won’t be enough so you return to your storage shed and bring out more baskets of bread that you have saved up, grateful that cooking recipes was one of your favourite things to do on the game.

“You have more food?” Odysseus voices beside you, suddenly very close and you nod with a bright smile, handing him another basket of fresh, warm bread. It appears as though, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve cooked the recipe, it comes out fresh and warm. You have five baskets of fresh bread circulating amongst the crew now and see if other recipes also come out freshly cooked. With a silent hum, you select the minestrone soup and out comes a deep ceramic bowl with hot, appetising soup filling it to the brim. Like in the game, the portion looks enormous in your hands and looks capable of feeding more than one person. This will go perfectly with the bread and you leave your shed to hand the bowl of soup to a small circle of men sharing a bread basket. They’re in awe of your offering and thank you endlessly, eagerly dipping their bread into the soup and savouring the delicious taste of food after days without. With a wide smile, you turn around and reach for Polites, who happily follow you back to your shed to help distribute more bowls of soup.

“How does that thing work?” Eurylochus reaches out to the shed once all the food has been distributed but you quickly block his way and shake your head. Suddenly tense, Eurylochus nods and firmly turns away, his hand safely back at his side, “Understood…” This wasn’t a windbag but he wasn’t going to make the same, silly mistake as he did in that musical. Never. He’s just happy the crew and himself finally have some food to eat, the birds and a distant island without a Cyclops long forgotten.

“Thank you for your help,” Odysseus walks up to you with a charming grin that you happily return, a warmth blooming in your chest at being able to help one of your favourite characters get home. Your easygoing, happy nature is very reminiscent of Polites and the Captain finds himself an easy victim to your warm and comforting presence, willing to follow your optimistic nature. Looking back at his smiling, feasting crew, he breathes a sigh of relief and bites into a round loaf he managed to take for himself as the bread baskets made their rounds. “Do you happen to have more food?” he suddenly asks, nervous of your response. “I have 550 more men to feed across eleven other boats,” he tilts his head towards the rest of his fleet, closely following his ship. Odysseus was ashamed to ask so much from one person but felt an immense feeling of relief when he turned to see your kind smile and warm gaze. It’s as if you were saying ‘ Of course, I do ’, eager to offer your help.

“You have more food, fair maiden?” Polites cheers, eagerly volunteering to help escort you onto the other ships for a delivery of food.

You shake your head but hold up a finger, wordlessly asking them to wait patiently. The 50 men of this boat had eaten all of the bread and soup you had stored so you had to make more from the crops and ingredients you had stored. All you needed to do was bring out your small kitchenette. Hopefully, game mechanics still apply when cooking and you’ll have enough food to feed the 550 hungry men left of Odysseus’ fleet. Returning to your storage, you easily bring out your kitchenette and follow the recipe for making more bread baskets and minestrone soup. It was easy enough, especially after realising that all you needed to access your personal storage without the shed was to think of it and it would readily appear for your eyes only.

“Is she a descendant of the Goddess of Harvest? The Goddess Demeter?”

“She must be,”

“No, she was sent to us as a divine intervention. She must have been sent by Hermes.”

“But look at the orange she gave us, it’s the biggest, most delicious and perfect orange I have ever seen. She must be a descendant of the God of orchards and fruit, Dionysus.”

“We are lucky to have her, she must have been sent by the Goddess Tyche of luck.”

Many of the crew members begin to speculate your origins, with some raising their voices above the others, their words coming out more clearly. But you were none of those things. You can’t even begin to explain how you got here and it isn’t as though you could even attempt to voice any kind of explanation. It’s quite flattering that they think so highly of you— enough to relate you to the gods and goddesses —but if any good person was capable of offering help then they would do so without regard for what it may cost them. And that was what you were doing. You were only doing what any good person would do. It’s just your luck that you happen to have the same skills and itinerary as your ACNH character. The only unfortunate thing is that you were made mute because of it too –at least most seem to understand what you want to say by paying attention to your actions and movements, much like your villagers.

“Polites and Eurylochus will escort you. They will also explain your presence to the rest of my men.” Odysseus explains as you nod along and gently express that your shed doesn’t need to be brought with you. Again, Eurylochus nods and backs away, calling for two men to guard the shed while they make the food delivery. In the distance, you watch the boats easily line up and a wooden plank is provided to bridge the distance between two ships. Just as you are being led away by Polites. Odysseus calls out to you, “Fair maiden,” he bows at the waist, the rest of the crew following close after, bowing deeply and sincerely, “ Thank you ,”

When the crew and Odysseus finally look up, they are greeted by your bright, close-eyed smile and the faint outline of pink and yellow flowers in the air surrounding your face. You’re a beauty, a kind embodiment of mercy bestowed upon them in their hour of need and they dare not take you for granted.

⊹ ࣪﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪˖

The crew were dehydrated and hungry. This is the price they had to pay to avoid the Cyclops and, at first, they felt it was worth it. However, now that their stomachs were constantly aching, a heavy and painful reminder of their ravenous hunger, they were beginning to second-guess themselves. Growing weaker by the day, they left their oars, slowing their journey home considerably. There also weren’t any reliable winds to push them home. The gods were determined not to influence their journey home in this altered reality but that too had become a major drawback. They couldn’t see an end to it; their spirits were dwindling and the idea of stepping on Ithaca’s sands was now a distant dream.

It wasn’t until the flag was raised by their Captain’s ship that the crewmen dared to feel an ounce of hope. With what little strength they had left, they aligned their boats and set up the slim bridge across, connecting the two vessels. They recognised the first person to traverse the bridge: Polites, their optimist of a third commander. They also recognised the second person to come across: Eurylochus, their hardened second in command. It was the third person that they didn’t recognise, however.

“Who is that second commander?” Lycaon asks, approaching the tall, sword-wielding Eurylochus but is unable to remain standing in his weakened state. He envied the commanders who could still stand so tall despite their harrowing situation.

“She is the fair maiden,” he answers simply.

“Does she have no name?”

“She cannot speak, but she is a blessing to us all,” Polites cut in with a grin, his eyes remaining on you as you cautiously cross the bridge, your long, flowing white dress dancing with the weak sea breeze. “Come now, I assure you it’s safe,” the headband-wearing third commander urges in a gentle and kind voice, softly pulling you to safety with his sweetness. “That’s it, good job,” he praises as soon as you make it close enough to hold his outstretched hand. He gently guides you to the boat’s perimeter and reaches up to hold your waist, where he then proceeds to lower you down with ease. If Polites was shocked at the amount of energy and strength your food had given him, he didn’t let it show but Eurylochus certainly did. Never before had he seen his gentle third commander display such brawn; perhaps it was his willingness to be a gentleman in the presence of a lady that helped aid his sudden show of burliness.

You smile at Polites, gratefully for his encouraging words. The gentle-mannered man was a great help at coaxing you across the rather dangerous plank.

Taking the chance to look around, you’re saddened by the appearance of these war-torn soldiers and crewmen. They had fought for ten long years and came out victorious but it appears as though they aren’t meant to stop fighting just yet. Now they were faced with the most formidable foe, Mother Nature and the seas ruled by one of the cruellest gods you think you’ve ever witnessed. In an attempt to soothe them, you offer a kind smile to which their sunken features are somewhat startled but not unpleasantly. It’s been a long while since they’ve been in the presence of feminine beauty quite like yours. And in their touch-starved, hungry and aching states, you appear before them as a miracle, a mercy upon their blurring visions before they succumb to hunger and their eventual deaths.

“We call her the fair maiden, she is a very important guest of the Captain,” Polites announces with a smile, making the starved crew tilt their heads in question, slow to comprehend his words. Their third in command was the singular shining optimist of their entire fleet but they couldn’t believe how happy he was in such dire times. And why was he glowing and not sunken? Did you have something to do with it? “She is here to offer us help,” Polites turns to you, silently asking for a demonstration of your blessing while Eurylochus protectively stands behind you. He knows the desperate actions starved men will attempt in the face of the one thing they desire most, his Captain was also aware of this and both agreed that he be the one to protect you across the eleven black boats of his fleet.

Nodding once, you walk forward and approach Lycaon. The starved man pushes back his chestnut locks so that he can observe you without the shadows of his overgrown and messy hair. Admiring your appearance, there’s something about you that's reassuring, he already feels safe and taken care of under the warm smile on your lips.

“Good day, m’lady,” he bows his head in politeness after manoeuvring himself into taking a knee before you. If you were an important guest of their Captain, you were to be treated as equal to the Captain. Several of the other crew members who still have the strength to move, mirrored his actions. Soon enough, a majority of the men on board were taking a knee and bowing their heads to you. It made you a little shy and tuck your chin in bashfully, an endearing action to those who were able to witness it.

Gently, you raise Lycaon’s head with your soft fingers under his chin, giving him a warm look before reaching for your inventory and materialising a fresh basket of bread and a deep bowl of minestrone soup before him. With a gasp and wide eyes, Lycaon looks between you and the food several times before finally meeting eyes with the second and third commanders.

Was this a dream?

Polites laughs and Lycaon realises he had spoken aloud, “It is not a dream, my friend. The fair maiden is here to bless us with food, enough food to feed us all!” Polites then turns to the antsy crewmen looking ready to pounce from a distance, his eyes sharpening uncharacteristically at their savage appearance, “She has plenty to go around so I advise you all to wait patiently…” Polites lets his words sink in, only continuing when the men visibly reel back, ashamed, “If any harm comes to her because of your impatience and greed, you will be severely punished. Understood?!” Eurylochus looked openly impressed from where he stood, nodding in approval behind his usually sweet friend.

“Form groups of ten now and we will make the rounds,” Eurylochus’ firm command was immediately followed. The first group, composed of those who gravitated towards Lycaon, bowed their heads in gratitude and jumped at filling their stomachs the instant you returned the gesture. It was as if they had asked for silent permission and pounced when you finally gave it; they wouldn’t dare sabotage their chance at finally being able to eat a full meal. Before you could move on to the next group, however, Lycaon gently takes your hands with his calloused, and shaking ones to press a grateful kiss against your knuckles.

“Thank you, my lady,” unable to speak, you convey your assurance by taking the hand he kissed and petting his head, softly trailing your hand down to cup his cheek and smiling when he leans into your touch. His tired but assured olive eyes flutter close to savour your softness and warmth. You’re surprised at the tears that fall from his long lashes but smile when you see his smiling lips littered with crumbs.

You make the rounds with the rest of the groups and happily watch as they all have their fill. Thank goodness the animal crossing portion sizes are as unrealistically big as in the game; everyone could have their fill without having to deprive another of their portion. It was also helpful that when all the food was gone, the cutlery and tableware it came with also disappeared — no waste!

Just as the first group was finishing up their meal, you returned to offer them several large, perfectly round, and juicy oranges as dessert. They cheer in delight and awe at your airy giggle. Despite being unable to speak, you manage to sound the sweetest, twinkling laugh they’ve ever heard. To be provided with delicious food on such hard times was already such a blessing but to receive it from a beautifully fair and kind maiden was an entirely new blessing atop that. Their hearts and minds can be at ease now, their stomachs full and their nights no longer filled with restless tossing and turning from the discomfort of hunger.

After receiving the gratitude of the 50 men on this boat, you make the same trip to the rest of the 10 black boats left in Odysseus’ fleet. The experience was relatively the same, beginning with weary eyes and ending with cheers, sighs of contentment and endless gratitude. You can’t count the amount of crew members who have kissed your hand or cried tears of relief before you.

⊹ ࣪﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪˖

For another day or two, you repeat the same routine of feeding the crew a hearty meal you cook up on the kitchenette summoned on Odysseus’ ship, right beside your storage shed for easy access to ingredients. Thinking ahead, you make a bunch of bread baskets, from normal bread to the savoury and snack bread baskets and offer those with jams on your morning deliveries to each ship. That allows the crew to have some sustenance while you prepare their bigger meal later on in the day. You feel bad for being unable to offer more food but Odysseus assures you that you’re doing more for them than what is needed.

“I can have my crew survive on just one meal a day, they wouldn’t dare complain after the hunger they’ve had to endure until you arrived,” Odysseus assures with a kind smile after seeing your anxious expression. However, you immediately throw up your hands and wave them about in protest, causing the Captain to look at you perplexed.

“I don’t think she approves of that, Captain,” Polites laughs and claps his friend on the shoulder. Odysseus shakes his head and chuckles in light humour.

“Then let me express my thanks for helping my crew. You are truly a blessing and have the biggest heart,” Odysseus bows at the waist like he did the first day you arrived and Polite quickly follows. Even Eurylochus bows from where he's stationed guarding your shed. It flusters you and you reach out to lightly tap their shoulders in assurance, as if to say, ‘It’s alright, please raise your heads,’.

“Those coconuts you gave out are also really helpful,” Polites nods towards the pile of coconuts on one end of the ship, “They’re a great way to quench our thirst. I’d say they’re more hydrating than water,” you clap in happiness and nod eagerly, your eyes closed as you smile and it escapes you how all three— the captain and his commanders —soften their gazes at the sight. They can only truly believe in Polites’ ‘open arms’ belief because of your boundless kindness and eagerness to help.

On the second day aboard Odysseus’ ship, you cook up a treat by making the three pizza recipes available to you from Animal Crossing. The Margherita, mushroom and seafood pizzas were very well received by the crew along with the peaches you gave for dessert. They were eager to request more pizzas in the future if you were willing. On the third day, you made a bunch of Seabass pies (many of the men adored the fish design you put on top, they called it ‘charming’) and apples for dessert.

For many, it was their first time having pizza and Seabass pie so it was really fun to see them, not only, satiate their hunger, but also openly react to something they were tasting for the first time. There were many satisfactory hums and excited, contagious gossip about what they liked most about a particular dish. They found pizzas fun and easy to eat while the pie was a wonderful layer of mashed potato, fish filling and golden crust goodness — a combination they had never encountered before but acquired an instant taste for.

While you were sipping on a coconut milk drink between cooking sessions, some of the crew were eying you curiously but tried to make it seem as though they weren’t blatantly staring. It was quite endearing actually. You gestured to a particularly starry-eyed crew member and kindly motioned him over. Elpenor with his fluffy brunette hair, cacao eyes and bronze skin approaches with a small, shy smile, closely followed by his slightly taller friend, who sported wavy blonde hair that came down to his chin and greyish-blue eyes.

“I go by Elpenor, fair maiden,” the broad-shouldered brunette introduces with a bow when he comes to stand before your curiously tilted head. You remember him as the one who unfortunately died after getting drunk and falling off of Circe’s palace in the musical. It was your guess that the man who followed him was his friend Perimedes.

“And they call me Perimedes,” the musical portrayed Perimedes as a man who hides his true emotions, appearing nonchalant and jovial despite his depressed disposition. You can't help but feel an aching pinch in your heart for the man. Before you could realise it, your hand reaches up and cups his cheek, softly stroking your thumb over his stumble comfortingly. Perimedes’ grey-blue eyes widen and he frantically looks to Elpenor who grins widely at him, happy to see his friend be treated softly. “U-Umm… is everything well, fair maiden?” Perimedes asks, looking uncomfortable at your touch, but doesn’t pull away; rather, you feel him tilt his head towards your touch. You suppose his bad habit of hiding his true feelings persists and Elpenor, being his closest friend, remains close to him as a result. Both have become each other’s rock.

Shaking your head, you smile assuringly and slowly bring your hand back, giggling with Elpenor at the unknowing whine the taller blonde let out from the loss of your touch. Quickly, you offer the two your large glass of coconut milk and giggle when their eyes comically bulge in surprise.

“Are you offering it to us?” Elpenor asks with wide eyes, hesitant to proceed. Surely accepting would be crossing the line. But you nod eagerly and softly thrust the drink towards him and Perimedes once again.

“W-we can’t accept,“ Perimedes begins as Elpenor nods along, stepping back with his friend. Both are unable to stomach the sad look in your eyes and the pout that plays on your lips when you see them back away, and they look to the side in shame. Why was it so painful to watch you frown because of them? “That was your drink, fair maiden,” both sides continue to insist on their stance and it would have continued if it weren’t for Eurylochus walking up from where he was observing the scene with Odysseus and Polites, both of whom wanted to laugh at the situation.

“You two have no authority to refuse the fair maiden’s kindness,” Eurylochus’ booming voice begins, making the two freeze up, “if she sees it fit to share with you, then you must accept. It’s rude to do otherwise,” you smile gratefully at Eurylochus who’s hard expression softens considerably in return and brings up a hand to pat your head. You’re much shorter than him and he finds that the difference has influenced the large feeling of responsibility and protectiveness he feels over you. “Well?!” his hard expression returns when he faces a slack-jawed Elpenor and Perimedes.

“Then we kindly accept,” Perimedes begins, bowing at the waist with Elpenor quickly following. The large glass, even though you’ve already had your fill still had enough for both of them and you seemed happy to hand it over. Perimedes offers it to Elpenor who takes the first sip and immediately takes a liking to it. The bronze-skinned youth eagerly offers the drink to his taller friend before he’s even formed the words to praise such a refreshing, milky drink.

“…It’s delicious! Go ahead and try it, my friend!”

You and Eurylochus watch in satisfaction as the two don’t stop at just sharing with each other but move to their crew members so that they can have a sip too. Seeing what would happen next, you go about making more coconut milk drinks and hand one to Eurylochus to take back and share with Odysseus and Polites just as Elpenor returns asking for more on behalf of the other crew members. Looking over his shoulder, you smile at the crew members’ eager eyes but shy demeanours. These hardened men could act rather cute if they wanted to.

navi. | series m.list

next. | two : the island paradise →

a/n : as you can see, the two versions read very similar to one another, it's just those slight changes but regardless of that, i did my best to make the two versions as distinct from the other as possible on surface level -- now everyone can have their go-to version hehe~ i hope you darlings enjoy! if you want to be on a specific taglist for a specific version, please just mention that version of the two and i'd be more than happy to add you!

#epic the musical fanfiction #epic the musical x reader #epic x reader #epic odysseus #epic polites #epic eurylochus #epic fanfic #fix it fic #reader insert #mute reader #female reader #acnh mechanics #acnh au #isekai au #TFM : platonic version!

61 notes · View notes

reidswrite · 6 months ago

Text

One of each

Spencer Reid returns home after another exhausting trip working for the FBI, where he has spent most of his life. Now, on the verge of fifty-three years old, he finds himself thinking about Ethan and the life they could have had if he hadn't turned that love down to become an FBI agent almost 30 years ago.

Warnings: Alcohol/Drugs use, mention of suicide (not from main characters).

Word count: 2.4k

Turning the door handle slowly, the cold air in the apartment was the first sensation Spencer felt. It was empty, dark and quiet, almost as if he lived somewhere in the back of a library, on the shelves that aren't visited by students or readers who seek comfort between pages. He liked it. He liked the silence, the tranquility, the feeling of having a world of his own. Having joined the FBI just over 30 years ago, some cases were still hard to deal with, like the one from the last three days that sent the team to a small town in rural Texas. Arriving back at the apartment after dealing with so much chaos and adrenaline was like turning off the noise in his mind for a moment.

Dropping his cross-body bag on the floor next to the sofa, he headed towards the cabinet that held an expensive old whiskey and a couple of crystal glasses. Reid had promised himself that he would never give in to the habit of drinking away his own thoughts, but after all this time, so much loss and so much trauma, he no longer cared about old promises. He could feel the first sip burning down his throat as he leaned back in the armchair taking a deep breath. The street outside was illuminated by lamp posts and a few people were walking around. He liked to observe all those strangers and spot the small things about them, definitely a very profiler way of spending free time outside of work. After a few seconds a well-groomed young man walked by fidgeting his hands and breathing quickly. If Spencer could take a guess he would say that he was probably nervous for a first date.

Reid smiled to himself as he remembered the times when he used to feel like that. Anxious to see him. Breaking out in a cold sweat when he looked at him. His heart leaping out of his chest every time their lips met. God, he missed it more than anything else.

They were both 19 when they first met in graduate school after university. Two prodigies, the youngest in their class. Spencer had to deal with the awkwardness of not being the only genius in the room, something that had never happened before in his life. If that wasn't enough, they were roommates. Apparently the director of the dormitories decided that the best idea would be to pair the two youngest up together because they would “get along more easily and become friends”. He hated that director for three whole months. He hated the overbearing way Ethan spoke. He hated how he assumed he knew everything. Hated his voice, hearing him breathe, watching him sleep. Hated how he left his shoes untidy and his side of the closet a mess. Hated sharing his space, both physically and academically. Hated him so much that he was not even able to detach his lips from the brunette's when Ethan came into the room slightly stoned after a Halloween party and confessed that he couldn't stop thinking about Spencer. And, after that night, he hated every second of his life in which he wasn't with him.

Their relationship began hesitantly, with neither of them truly understanding how to deal with what they were feeling. Neither of them had even realized that they liked men until they started to love hating each other. Neither of them had had that experience. Two nerds who graduated from high school too early to be invited to parties with cheap alcohol poured into red cups where teenagers learned how to kiss in guest toilets. Together they discovered how to love, in every sense of the word. They spent every Friday night on the balcony of their apartment, Ethan with a weed cigarette between his fingers while Spencer read and talked enthusiastically about thousands of different facts that his superhuman brain had stored for years because no one had had the patience to listen to him talk. No one until then. The brunette smiled as he released the smoke through his nose. Every word that left Spencer's mouth mesmerized Ethan, almost in a hypotonic way. He couldn't imagine anything he liked better in the world than listening to his boyfriend talk.

Yes, boyfriend. It became official after almost two months when a girl hit on him in front of Spencer in a coffee shop. He tried to hide his jealousy but couldn't hold his tongue as he responded with false sympathy that the other man wasn't available. Ethan found it so adorable that he couldn't help but laugh, interlacing their hands as they walked back to the dormitory. The next day, when Spencer came home from his last class, a single rose and two pairs of colorful socks were laying on his desk. The first pair was striped in vibrant green and orange while the other was completely red with some animated animals drawn on it.

- One of each. - He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of Ethan behind him.

- What? - Reid asked, still confused.

- One foot from each pair. - the brunette said as if it were obvious and sat down on the chair, putting the striped sock on his right foot and the red sock on his left.

Spencer made a funny expression, still not quite understanding what he meant.

- All my life I felt like an intruder, like someone who didn't deserve to receive the love I saw others getting. I felt weird, I was excluded, I was bullied. I believed for years that no one would be able to love me because of my personality and who I truly am, but you have shown me otherwise. With you I don't feel like an intruder, I feel at home, like we were meant to be. - made a brief pause reaching for the remaining socks. - This one is weird like me. - he pointed to the striped one. - And this one is weird like you. - he pointed to the other foot. - Together they're even weirder and perhaps others will never understand, but we don't need others' comprehension to make this meaningful. I love you, Spencer. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

Today, thirty years later, he still remembers it each morning when he puts on his mismatched socks. He couldn't help but think about how that crazy peculiar proposal gave him the confidence to be who he wanted to be, even if others didn't understand. Ethan taught him that he didn't have to diminish himself, hide or try to fit in to be part of something. In the right place he would be appreciated exactly for who he truly is, he didn't have to hide his interests or the way he thought. In fact, his genius brain saved more lives than any of the frat idiots who made his life hell in college could ever imagine. Dr. Spencer Reid. Agent in the FBI's behavioral analysis unit.

But if he began to think about all the implications his career has had on his life, he'd need three more glasses of that whiskey.

Not that he didn't like it, on the contrary. He was proud of each and every case he solved, his studies, the methods he developed, his awards and even of the time he spent wrongfully incarcerated. He was proud of the work he had done during all these years and the people he had helped, but not of the implications it has had on his life. Witnessing the death of friends, the sufferings of people he loved, experiencing more traumas than he could possibly count, not attending his own mother's funeral because sinking into his work seemed like an easier way to escape. Losing Ethan and the life they could have had together.

And although he loved the stillness of that apartment, Spencer couldn't help closing his eyes and imagining coming home to the aroma of the delicious Italian food that only Ethan knew how to make.

He would leave his shoulder bag by the sofa and hug his husband from behind, placing a kiss on the back of his neck while whispering how much he had missed him. They would be interrupted by the two kids (not so kids anymore) coming into the kitchen chattering loudly. Anna would be a senior in High School while Luke was just starting middle school. The daughter came first, adopted by the couple at two years old and named after her grandmother Diana who was the most affectionate granny on earth. Luke came later, adopted when he was just a few months old and named after Ethan's father, Lucas, who would fly from Italy to the United States whenever he had the chance to visit. Anna would tell her fathers about the stress she was under when it came to choosing colleges, while their youngest would talk excitedly about the goals he had scored at soccer practice that afternoon. Spencer would laugh at the jumble of voices trying to pay attention to everyone at once, only to be interrupted by the barking of the dog who also wanted to be part of the family moment. Kiky was an almost seven-year-old golden retriever, originally called Rocky but Luke couldn't pronounce the full name when they adopted it.

He would work at the local library and they would spend the weekends with the family in a park, Ethan playing with the children while Spencer read something enjoying the wind swaying his already long hair. No long work trips, no trophies, no students or lives saved, just a comfortable, happy domestic dream. Reid found himself lost in this imaginary scenario far more often than he would ever admit to anyone. It was his escape from all the scars that his choice had given him. That choice he really wished he could go back in time and make everything different.

- I don't want to. - Ethan said, running his hands through his hair. - I can't do this, I can't join the FBI, I don't want to live in fear of dying. I can't be like my mother.

- Babe please, think about it, it's the chance of our lives. - Spencer insisted, wanting to cry.

- I love you, Spencer. I love you like I've never loved anyone else and that's exactly why I can't do this. I want to have a home, build a family, be happy like we are now. You know I grew up watching what being a cop made to my mom and I promised myself every day that I would never do that with my life. - He said with tearful eyes before mouthing the phrase that would change their lives forever. - I'm not going to hold you here, if that's your dream then you need to go, but you're going by yourself and our story ends right now.

And he left. Spencer packed everything needed and looked at his now ex-boyfriend one last time before never looking back. He knew that neither of them was wrong, they had different ideas on how life should be and they weren't going to deprive each other of that. Ethan witnessed his mother drowning in an alcohol addiction as he was growing up, every loss at work, every new scar, every day with that badge pushed her a little further down the glass. Of course he admired her. He admired the work she did and knew that someone had to do it, but the price to pay was too high. She lost her marriage and later lost custody of her children. She gradually fell out of touch and finally, on a Thursday morning in December, she lost the chance of seeing them grow up forever. On the letter next to her body, she asked for forgiveness for not being the mother she should have been and confessed to a life full of self-blame. A heroine who nobody realized also needed to be saved.

When the FBI offer came, Ethan didn't think twice before turning it down, but something in Spencer was ignited. He saw an opportunity to save people. A good psychologist would probably say that Reid's obsession with saving everyone derived from the fact that he subconsciously knew he would never be able to save the one he truly wanted, his own mother. And there, for the first time, the couple entered an impasse that was greater than the love they felt for each other. Two inner children who were hurt and traumatized in different ways and who sought healing through opposite paths. There was no resentment between them, only the question of what it would have been like if things were different. Spencer often wondered if Ethan also imagined the life they would have had together. He wondered if Halloween was also his favorite holiday because it reminded him of that first kiss. He wondered if he still wore mismatched socks, if he left his sneakers untidy and his wardrobe disorganized. He wondered if he still had dimples next to his eyes when he smiled and if he still breathed heavily when he slept. He wondered if he thought of them whenever he saw the moon and remembered all those Fridays on the room's balcony. He wondered what life could have been like if he had chosen love over his career.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when a car braked sharply in the street he was observing, almost hitting a pedestrian and causing a bit of a commotion that soon subsided. Spencer took a final sip of the bitter liquid in his glass, grimacing and trying to remember when he had started to like it, probably an inheritance from David Rossi. He took the cup back to the kitchen and when he found the dark room again, he decided that maybe this was the moment to do something about all of it. Blaming the alcohol in his veins, Reid picked up the phone and dialed the forbidden number in his contact list, finding it ironic that his heart was racing faster in that moment than it had been during the last three days when he was hunting a serial killer.

The call rang three times before a very familiar voice answered, more mature and huskier than he remembered, but still close enough to send shivers down his spine.

- Hi Ethan, it's Spencer. - He breathed for a moment trying to gain confidence, after all he hadn't actually planned to do that. - I know it's been a while but can we talk?

#criminal minds #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #oneshot #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #dr spencer reid #gay oneshot #reidswrite #matthew gray gubbler x reader

35 notes · View notes