#they were everywhere in the canyon
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Sometimes when I'm birdwatching
#sometimes when I'm birdwatching#things that aren't birds#island fox#santa cruz island#they were everywhere in the canyon#i'd never heard one bark before#and now#well#i have
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HONEY SPAM
HONEY SPAM
HONEY SPAM
I've finally got my act together. Let's goooooooooooooooo.
#monsta x#jooheon#speaking of dimples#i mean OBVIOUSLY#so i'm going to keep this post shorter because they're in--like--every shot of him#not going to say they're his whole identity because lee jooheon is everything everywhere all at once#but there's no getting around how legendary they are#monuments were crafted to them and villages were burned for them#probably#whether it's one or both or just a wisp#they shake you to your core#when they're deepest the grand canyon has nothing on them#i can't imagine what it's like for mbb to touch them#those who have risked it--are you even alive anymore???#also please take a moment to appreciate how shiny honey's eyes are in that last picture#i don't even know how anyone talks about any other dimples in these other groups#pointless--there is only lee jooheon
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“Floyd, could you sing to me?”
The big brother looked up from where he was tucking the blanket under Branch’s feet. “Sure thing,” he said with a light smile. “What would you like to hear? A lullaby?”
“I don’t know,” Branch mumbled as he nestled his head into the pillow. “You choose.”
Floyd could still see a crease of worry between his baby brother’s brows. He softly brushed a thumb over it in a silent reassurance that everything was going to be okay before he turned around to reach for their dad’s old guitar.
I think Floyd would often sing to Branch to get him to fall asleep, usually the songs and lullabies their parents sang when the older four were still little.
I know in the movie it seemed like they all left right after their fight, but I like to imagine that they just stormed off to cool off and that they actually left in the following days. And that this was the last song Floyd sang for Branch that night. :')
Both Sides Now (specifically this cover by Voncken) Rows and flows of angel hair And ice cream castles in the air And feather canyons everywhere I've looked at clouds that way But now they only block the sun They snow and rain on everyone So many things I would've done But clouds got in the way I've looked at clouds from both sides now From up and down, and still somehow It's clouds’ illusions, I recall I really don't know clouds at all Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels The dizzy dancin' way you feel When every fairy tale comes real I've looked at love that way But now it's just another show You leave 'em laughin' as you go And if you care, don't let them know Don't give yourself away I've looked at love from both sides now From give and take, and still somehow It's love's illusions, I recall I really don't know love at all Tears and fears and feeling proud To say "I love you" right out loud Dreams and schemes and circus crowds I've looked at life that way But now my friends, they’re acting strange They shake their heads, and say I've changed Well, something's lost, but something's gained In living life each day I've looked at life from both sides now From up and down And give and take And win and lose, and still somehow It's life's illusions, I recall I really don't know life... I really don't know life at all
#trolls#dreamworks trolls#i think their mom used to sing this one to them#john dory standing behind the door listening in like 🙄. . .🧍♂️(😢😭) . . . pff whatever... 😒🚶♂️#trolls floyd#trolls branch#baby branch#trolls band together#trolls fanart#dw trolls#my art#illustration#i love drawing trolls because i can play so much with textures#like they're fuzzy creatures and i love it#that light bug thing is there bc i needed a light source and i didn't want to draw a lamp#both sides now#i am very soft and emotional about this song don't ask why#joni mitchell#floyd feels like such an old soul#you know he sings john lennon songs#trolls spoilers#i have so many more thoughts about that fight/post fight but i will shut up for now
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Time keeps moving on and on and on
🎂Happy birthday, clown man! Here's your bday fic!🎁
WC: 810 Warnings: SFW-ish (brief mention of genitals but in a not-sexy way), Buggy x GN!reader, established relationship, Buggy has self esteem issues because of course he does Title from Man Overboard by blink-182
There was a stranger in the mirror. The longer he stayed, the less familiar he looked. Recognizable features became overshadowed and created a dissonance. Steam and condensation clung to the sliver surface. Buggy leaned closer and stared.
That was his hair. It was long and blue, like it should be. But it was thinning. The strands that he hoped were highlights, sun bleached to a light blue color, were white. Stark fucking white and void of color. At first he pulled them out, but the colorless hair grew like weeds. Like plants that propagate and take over if you don’t deal with the source. And how could he, when the source was time.
Buggy recognized his eyes. Well, he did at first. The longer he looked, the more he lost himself. The color was right, but the shape seemed to change. Were his eyes getting baggier? More hooded? Fuck, maybe he should stop pulling his skin so tight when putting on make-up. He wasn’t young anymore, his skin didn’t bounce back like it used to…
And there were the wrinkles. Emotions carved into his skin. Even if Buggy tried to smooth them out by filling the grooves with thick moisturizing creams and rough massages with calloused fingertips, they were fucking canyons. His wrinkles were deep and unfading. Forehead marks that fucked with the smooth lines of his crossbones, creases dug between his eyebrows, crow’s feet flanking his eyes, lines around his mouth that he couldn’t hide with paint.
Shit. Everywhere Buggy looked, he saw more details and definition that didn’t belong to him. That wasn’t him in the mirror. But it was.
Buggy was getting old.
He hated this. He hated all of it. The negativity simmered, sitting on a low heat in the corner of his mind. Every glance in the mirror made the fire hotter. Every day closer to his birthday brought bubbles to the surface, until it all spilled over.
“It’s your birthday! Are you excited?” Your cheeriness finally brought Buggy’s self-esteem issues to their boiling point.
“Why the fuck would I be excited about getting older?” he spat, more than ready to pour out every damn insecurity he had. “Look at me, white hair, wrinkles, flab-” Buggy grabbed, pointed, and squeezed every area of his body’s betrayal. “I’m old and it’s only going to get worse.”
“Worse?”
“Beer gut and droopy balls,” Buggy practically wailed. His future was unavoidable.
The clown pirate continued his long withheld lament, releasing every thought and frustration in a fast moving stream. Complaints about the hair growing out of his ears and no- Nevermind. Achy knees, a back that twinges when the weather changes too fast, hangovers lasting longer and longer. There was so much on Buggy’s list, but a hand grabbing his own stopped the tirade.
“I like those things-”
“Liar. Who would like a washed up clown?”
“Me.”
Buggy’s glare was met with fiery determination. He didn’t want to listen, but you weren’t done talking.
“Babe, I like that you’re getting older because I get to see it happen.” You paused. “I… I feel lucky that we get to grow old together.”
The confession sent blood to your face and turned your cheeks red. You chewed your lip but didn’t turn away from Buggy.
“Ew.” Buggy opened his mouth and pretended to gag. “You really think like that? You’re so sappy, it’s disgusting,”
The clown’s teasing came with a smile that grew bigger by the moment. His chest puffed as he put on a fake sneer and shook his head in mock disappointment.
“Whatever, it’s not a big deal. I don’t know why you’re still talking about these things,” Buggy continued, patting your shoulder condescendingly.
You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Right, my bad. Happy birthday, Buggs.”
“Thanks, hun.”
Buggy pulled you into a tight hug, holding you like he’d lost the ability to communicate any other way. Like there was nothing else in the world but you, him, and the sea. Like he’d melt into you, dissolve into you entirely, if you’d let him. Like you healed something deep inside.
When the embrace broke, you reached up and pushed back a few loose strands of Buggy’s long hair. You stayed quiet as you studied him. And for the first time in a long time, Buggy didn’t mind it. He didn’t worry that you’d see something disgusting, old, and ugly.
“I like these shimmer strands. They catch the light and sparkle,” you said softly, running your fingers through his hair again.
“Hmm…” Buggy hummed, pleased with the flashy compliment. Maybe white hair wasn’t so bad.
There was a stranger reflected in your eyes. He couldn’t always see it himself, but for a moment, Buggy saw himself the way you saw him. He saw the person you wanted to grow old with. He saw someone worthy.
He saw someone lovable.
#this was gonna be spicy but it wasn't working out#i like it better this way tbh#hope you enjoy!#buggy the birthday boy#buggy x reader#buggy the clown x reader#buggy the clown#buggy x you#x reader#buggy op#opla buggy#one piece buggy#hey-august buggy fic
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Marked Part 1
PART 2
A Bad Batch x Red Dead Redemption crossover AU (with illustrations :)
This is my first time writing fanfiction!
“Omega” felt like too sci-fi of a name for this universe so I changed it to “Meggy”. Everyone else is the same.
If you haven’t played RDR2 don’t worry, I’m not counting on every reader having done so. All you need to know is it’s about a gang of outlaws in 1899 running from trouble, chaos everywhere. The world is set in a kind of “fantasy” United States, where the places and cultures are heavily based on real life, but have different names for the most part. There are also some sci-fi elements to the world that I may or may not implement :) This takes place around the first chapter of RDR2 when the Van Der Linde gang is camped out at Horseshoe Overlook.
Word count: 2045
Rating T
The foothills above Valentine were peaceful, densely forested, and rarely traversed. Above the treetops the snowy peak of Mount Hagen shone like a beacon. Below the hillside the earth plunged into the deep and narrow Dakota River canyon. It was a perfect place to lie low for a while. Plan the next move.
Meggy sat on the back of her brothers’ wagon, the horses had been unhitched and were grazing on the small clearing where they had set up camp. The contentedness of the beasts calmed her. The two massive horses simply snacking away and existing, nothing else on their mind. She wished she could escape worry so easily as the breeze blew her short blonde hair and ruffled her skirt.
Swimming in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear her brother's voice calling to her until he was beside her. “There you are!” Hunter sighed with relief as he approached. “Are you… alright?” His tone dropped quieter.
“Yeah, just thinking I guess.” Meggy swung her boots ponderously. She held something in her hands, resting on her lap.
“What’s this?” Hunter came closer, looking at her hands.
Meggy froze. Frozen like she had rehearsed time and time again at the school. Bracing herself physically and mentally to be in trouble, again. She looked down with shame.
Hunter parted her hands, revealing a tiny rabbit kit, its unweaned eyes still closed. “Where’d you find this?”
Meggy looked up and was confused to see her brother smiling. This was wrong. She should be in trouble for touching dirty animals.
“Under the wagon.” She muttered, still not convinced she wasn’t about to be reprimanded, especially now that she had just confessed to a second crime: crawling around under a vehicle.
“We should find its nest, it needs its mother.” Hunter took a step back. Meggy stared at him, her mind was still not catching up to the fact of what was going on. “Pick him up, let’s go look.” Hunter helped her off the wagon so she could safely cup the tiny creature in both of her equally tiny hands.
“Look for a hole capped with fur, there might be tracks of bare earth in front of it, and cropped grass.” Hunters eyes scanned the forest floor for rabbitsign, Meggy watched him and then mimicked his movements.
Hunter noticed that Meggy was uncharacteristically quiet as they searched. Did I do something wrong? Having a kid around had been an ongoing adjustment. In the short time she had been with them Meggy had shown a wide range of emotions, profoundly sensitive and resilient at the same time.. But this was the first time he had seen her freeze up like this.
The kit began to squeak incessantly. Hunter saw a flit of movement near a Boulder. Meggy followed his gaze. A rabbit doe near her burrow.
As they neared she scurried back underground, Meggy deposited the kit near the hole and they watched it crawl inside.
“Nice work, kid!” He held his hand out for a high five, Meggy flinched, almost imperceptibly, but Hunter noticed.
In a moment the worry melted off her face and she grinned, slapping his hand with her new energy. “That was fun! Do you think I can learn to track like you someday?”
“I think you just had your first lesson.”
-
The next few days were a much needed break from action, for the most part. The gang lived on small game, wild edibles, and what was left of their canned goods. Wrecker showed Meggy how to pick the best firewood. Echo lent her a couple of his books, glad to have a third person around who knew how to read. Crosshair kept his distance, but patiently entertained some of her questions as he cleaned his rifle. Then sent her away after warning her to stay away from their munitions crate.
Tech finally caved to Meggy’s insistence on riding one of their draft horses. He picked Marauder, the slightly less excitable of the two. The chestnut gelding was certainly not a kid’s horse, but as a retired warhorse, he was desensitized at least. Meggy was surprised at how much thinking went into riding, or maybe that was just because Tech was her teacher. He had a lot to say about riding technique. As he lunged Maurauder with Meggy astride, barely able to straddle the barrel chested beast, he rattled on about gaits, position, neck-reining, posting, side-passing, halting, and so on.
-
Meggy woke on the fourth morning. A wave of bliss washed over her as she sat up in her bedroll. The last few days had truly been the best ever, living off the land with her brothers who she didn’t even know she had until a couple weeks ago. They chose to risk everything to save her.
She was still coming to terms with what they had sacrificed for her. Couldn’t help but feel a twitch of guilt every time she could sense them censoring their usual crass demeanor in front of her (even though Wrecker had already willingly taught her a few of his favorite curse words). She didn’t want them to change for her, but also didn’t want to be anywhere else in the whole world. Crosshair seemed especially snide about her presence, always keeping his distance and almost never speaking to her.
She scanned the camp, the fire was still smoldering, the bedrolls still lined around it like a flower. Two of which were empty, one was neatly made, the other looking like a wild animal had escaped from it.
She got dressed and walked around the wagon, surprised to see Hunter and Echo tacking up the horses.
“You’re leaving?”
Hunter looked up first “You’re up early!” He adjusted Havoc’s bridle. “Just getting some supplies in town, we’ll be right back.”
“Can I come? Please?!”
Echo glanced up at her,, and then looked to Hunter “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He said before going back to picking Marauder’s hoof, holding it on his thigh between his torso and what was left of his right arm.
There was a long silence. Echo could practically smell Hunter’s guilty look, even with the ass end of a horse between them.
“Of course you can come.”Hunter gave in. Echo rolled his eyes.
Meggy tried to contain her excited squeal.
“Hunter, there are people looking for her, we can't bring her to town.” Echo spat as he stood up.
“Don’t worry, I have an idea.” Hunter smirked.
-
The world was so much bigger than she ever could have imagined. The trees flew by as the trio cantered down the wagon trail toward Valentine. Meggy rode with Hunter on Havoc, his black mane nearly whipping her in the face. The speed was terrifying at first, but Meggy’s fear was quickly replaced by excitement as they got closer to town.
Her skirt had been replaced by a pair of extra trousers lying around, they didn’t have a belt small enough so a length of rope held them up. Finding a hat that didn’t look ridiculous on her was more challenging but a wool cap ended up being the best fit.
Now hopefully anyone looking for a “girl kidnapped from the Saint Denis Orphanage” wouldn’t think twice if they saw a boy.
Echo still didn’t think it would work.
-
The streets were still a sloppy, muddy mess from rain several days ago. Echo frowned as he dismounted and his boots sunk into the filth. They hitched the horses and went about their business, Echo to the gunsmith and Hunter and Meggy to the general store.
The streets were fairly quiet, an early start to the day meant less eyes around.
Meggy marveled at the abundance of items in the general store as Hunter bartered with the shop owner. She had so many questions, so many items she couldn’t identify, but tried to keep quiet so her boyish illusion would remain uncompromised. Once Hunter had packed the new supplies into his saddlebag they exited the store.
”G’morning, mister. Got a light?” A tall burly man leaned against the wall just outside the store. Meggy startled a bit, Hunter did not, he heard the lumbering figure approach while they were still inside.
“Sure.” Hunter fumbled in his pocket for his lighter and handed it to the man. The flame illuminated his face, his eyes rimmed with the cracked tan skin of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors. His battered brown hat and dirty blue jacket bore similar weathering. He took a long drag and handed the lighter back. “Thank you mister.” He blew out the smoke “and little miss.”
Hunter nodded and began to walk away, then realized what the man had just said… “little miss”. It could be nothing… just a slip of the tongue… there’s no way someone this far out could know who she was. He quickened his pace as they rounded away toward the gunsmith.
The man took one more drag from his cigarette before putting it out on the ashtray on the windowsill, as he did so he scanned across the street toward another figure sitting in front of the saloon. A shorter, thinner man with black greasy hair and a black hat, two long scars clawed from under his eye to the corners of his jaw. The blue-jacketed man gave a nod just big enough to be seen from the distance between them.
Inside the gunsmith, Hunter spoke in a low voice from behind Echo “we should go.”
“I’m not finished yet.” Echo was inspecting the quality of the bullets he was about to purchase.
“Just get them and let's go.” Hunter murmured.
Echo gave an annoyed look, but reluctantly agreed and they paid the gunsmith.
As they exited the store Hunter’s paranoia climbed several levels when he saw the stranger was gone, his presence replaced by his still smoldering cigarette.
The trio hurried to the horses, mounted up, and headed back up the hill into the forest.
“What the hell was that about?” Echo scolded once they were farther away from town.
“I just got a bad feeling.” Hunter checked over his shoulder for the fifth time in a minute, instinctually resting his hand on his thigh holster.
-
“But we just got here!” Wrecker complained loudly, the only way he knew how to complain. The gang deliberated around their late morning campfire.
“I agree, moving camp would be unwise.” Tech fiddled with some type of hardware from the wagon on his lap. “Moving around would only draw more attention from more people.”
Crosshair remained silent, dragging on his first cig of the day. “If you really think they were after Meggy, don’t you think that guy would’ve just taken us then and there while we were in town? Instead of now when we’re back with our full party?”Echo wondered.
“If he’s such a good bounty hunter that he found us all the way across three states, surely he could take on one guy, a gimp, and a child.” Crosshair smirked.
Echo ignored his antagonistic younger brother.
Hunter sighed.
“I’m sorry. This is all my fault, isn’t it?” Omega sulked in the grass, hugging her knees at her chin. Flowers she had picked drooping in her hands.
“Her situational comprehension is quite high for someone her age.” Tech observed.
“We’ll be fine. We’re far off the trail, hidden by the trees. I did my best to cover our tracks. Let’s just keep the fire small tonight, we’ll be fine.” Hunter reassured them.
-
“Four men, two of them are the ones we saw in town earlier.” Arthur focused his binoculars across the canyon. “No wait, five.”
“What’s the plan?” John shifted.
“Bounty is for all of them, but the kid is the biggest reward.”
“And we gotta bring them all back to Saint Denis?”
“Nah, I talked to the sheriff in town, said he can hold them until we can wire someone to collect. For a price.”
“No way we can take all five of those guys.”
“For once, we agree, Marston.” Arthur noticed one of the taller fellows cleaning his rifle. “Poster said they’re ex-military.”
“What are they doing kidnapping an orphan?”
“I don’t know, but it can't be good." Arthur lowered the binoculars.
Taglist: @dragonrider9905 @omegafett99 @griffedeloup
#sw tbb#sw tbb fanfic#tbb x rdr au#rdr2#rdr2 arthur#john marston#arthur morgan#the bad batch#bad batch#clone force 99#tbb#star wars the bad batch#tbb omega#tbb hunter#tbb crosshair#tbb tech#tbb echo#star wars#tbb x rdr2 au
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Hi! Could I please request a 911 fic, please? Reader is Buck and Maddie’s little sister and is dating Eddie. She goes for a hike and falls, maybe just like a broken leg and concussion... but she has to call 911 and is freaking out a little and Maddie does her best to calm her down til the 118 gets there. Then lots of fluff with the guys. Maybe they show up at her apartment the next day to help her out with things and binge some tv with her. Thank you in advance!
sos - e.d
summary: request
eddie diaz x buckley!reader
a/n: tysm for the request, hope you enjoy 💗
y/n thought it was common sense to not disturb the wildlife in the trail. there were signs everywhere, you had to be blind to miss them. blind or stupid, at least. she also knew that the group of teenage girls had ignored the sign, trying to run after the deer and scare them away.
it was her one day off. it wasn’t a huge day to go to the hiking paths, so she went when it wasn’t busy. however, the mob of juveniles came across like they were the only people to exist, shoving anyone and anything out of their way. y/n had fallen victim in their path of destruction. she had been firmly distracted on the panicked deer, being able to outrun their pictures and harassment.
stupidly, her food stumbled on a pit, twisting her ankle as she fell down the rocky hill. she felt the massive rock jab her head, leaving a pitchy ringing in her ears. the fall had turned her leg in ways that it shouldn’t turn. finally, after what felt like minutes of falling, she landed on her back on the dusty floor of the woods. she lay there panting for a few moments, hoping someone would have seen her fall, but there wasn’t anyone but the excited shouting of the girls. she basically had no other choice but to fish her phone out of her pocket. she was so discombobulated and facing pain that she could only manage to type the three numbers.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” the voice of y/n’s older sister came through the phone, making y/n’s heart race in relief.
“maddie! oh, jesus,” she groans. “so, funny story, i just fell on my hike and i bashed my head on a rock, and then my leg did a weird thing and now it hurts like a bitch so i don’t r-“
“y/n?” she could tell the panicked voice of her sister. “wha- ok, first, tell me what trail you’re on.”
“i’m on the northeast trail at brush canyon,” y/n informs, despite the throbbing ache in her skull.
“alright, i’m sending units to you now, but stay on the phone with me?”
“i will. god, those girls were just running like maniacs an-“
“hey, hey, calm down, y/n. you’re going to be fine, just don’t get too riled up, yeah? police and rescue are 3 minutes away from your location now.”
“thank you, maddie,” y/n says into the phone, starting to calm down and grow more tired.
“of course, that’s why i’m here. the police should pull up in a minute, i love you,”
“i love you too, maddie,” maddie hangs up the phone, leaving her to buck and eddie now. they came to check the safety of the trail after hearing about the pits, and the concerns of people tripping and tumbling down the hills. when buck saw his little sister on the ground, his heart stopped.
“y/n?” he shouted, sliding down the hill and next to y/n’s body.
“heyyy, buck,” she says, being given pain medicine by chimney. “oh, i fell by the way.”
“eddie!” he yells, calling for her boyfriend as he walks down to see her too.
“what the hell happened?” he asks, completely alarmed by her state on the ground. “hey, are you ok?”
“splendid. not the best hike, but i’ll just leave a bad review. and someone tell those bitches to stop running after the deer!”
“alright, she’s fine,” buck laughs, getting his sisters personality back as they lift her onto the stretcher. bobby allows buck and eddie to travel with her to the hospital, as her eyes close in the back.
“i’m not sleeping, i’m just resting my eyes.”
“y/n, you probably should sleep,” buck tells her.
“yeah, baby, you hit your head pretty good,” eddie adds. he smiles at y/n’s scrunched eyebrows and shut eyes as she just continues to fall asleep one minutes later.
the doctors had confirmed that she did fracture her patella, and would be limited in movement for a few weeks. she had a light concussion from the impact on her head, but she’d heal perfectly fine. it wasn’t really anything to worry about.
she returned back to her apartment with maddie, helping her carry her things back in with the crutches. “thanks, maddie.”
“don’t thank me, just please be careful now,” she begs. “i don’t want you to push yourself like evan did and get all worked up.”
“i’m fine, maddie, i swear.”
“ok,” she concludes. “i have to go to work, but if you need anything in the world, call me or buck or eddie and i’m sure someone will help you. are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“maddie, get out of my apartment and go to work. i am fine!”
“alright, i love you. i’ll see you soon,” she says, shutting the door behind her as y/n sits on the couch, leaning her new crutches against it. she finally gets settled watching some old random reruns from tlc, getting invested in it when she realizes that she has to eat something with her new medicine. she tries to figure out something, when she hears an abrupt knock on her door. she limps over with her crutches, revealing a grinning buck and eddie by her door with a bag of food.
“we come with food!” buck smiles. “your favorite! cheesecake factory!”
“you guys did not have to do this,” she says, letting them come in and placing a kiss on eddie’s lips.
“well, we wanted you to have anything you need,” eddie tells her.
“i appreciate, i really do.”
“good, so what do you need done?” eddie asks. y/n thinks about what she could get away with, and manages to make them clean her entire kitchen. they did it willingly, so it’s nothing but a win for her.
“perfect! now, come eat with me and watch this show i found,” she beams, crutching over to the couch and placing the bag of food in front of her on the coffee table.
“what are we watching?” buck asks, starting to crack open his takeout box.
“i’m not really sure, some guy making cakes in new jersey,” she presses the volume as the voice of the man comes through the speakers. she sits back with her plate of food, looking at her two favorite boys in the world.
#911#911onfox#bobby nash#eddie diaz#evan buckley#evan buckley fanfic#athena grant#henrietta wilson#evan buckley x reader#evan buck buckley x reader#maddie buckley#chimney 911#eddie diaz 911#eddie diaz x you#eddie diaz x reader#eddie diaz fluff#eddie diaz fic#eddie diaz x y/n#eddie diaz angst#eddie diaz oneshot#eddie diaz fanfic#evan buckley one shot#evan buckley x y/n#evan buckley x sister!reader#evan buckley fluff#evan buck buckely#buddie 911#911 chimney#911 fic#911 show
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I SAID I WAS GONNA WORK ON SOME ANGST CONCEPTS AND THEN. I WAS GRANTED A GODDAMN VISION OF SPLOON4 IN MY SLEEP. HIGHLY DOUBT ANY OF THIS WILL HAPPEN AND FRANKLY IM NOT A FAN OF SOME OF THESE CONCEPTS BUT HEY. GOTTA DRAW AND WRITE WHAT I CAN.
The trailer had quite the focus on new hairstyles, but our main squid is sporting classic 3s for some reason. They also made it a big selling point to "put your sparkle on!" -- the squid's tentacles are as shiny as the ink you have in Sploon2's hero mode.
Actually, Im not sure theyre a squid.
A lot of the tutorial/trailer text shows salmonid icons. Granted, theyre...salmonid with rocking hairstyles and different colors (not just green and grey.)
The character finally turns around tk sjow us her face and...
She doesnt exactlt have an eyemask. She has bags under her eyes and her ears and top half of her face are darkened (similarly to how I color in my inkfish). Smile a set a SHARP teeth.
Jumpcut to where this...creatura is going. She was at first in a warm canyon of sorts, but it transitions to a cold area. Gives Alterna vibes. Except its completely revamped and the vibe is now one of Las Vegas with all the shining lights and rides and shit. Festive (like. Anarchy rainbow almost) plays everywhere. Hell, Frye's in here too! With a new hairstyle and clothes. I cant remember much of that....
Trailer moves to show the maps. A lot of it is in this cold environment. As if...as if the world has frozen over, instead of warminh up. And everyone had bundled up for warmth. "The world is ending but its bc its an ice age" and yet the damn inkfish (?) Were sporting military style gear.
There was also a lot of Octarian tech in the maps (moving floating platforms, octotroopers moving around the background or ARE the moving platforms...think that toaster boss), and there are salmomid also just vibing in places.
The story mode is hinting at the mysteries of the flooze and humanity.
And...Whys this majorly Octarian nation freezjng over? Is it bc they dont have a zapfish again? No, not really. Theyre starting out with a new energy source that they discovered while digging around human ruins: geothermal power.
They havent mastered it yet. Not at all. But its better than begging Inkadia for help
Oh, and. The Flooze.
The trailer implies quite heavily that this is a new Alterna, or an Octarian + Salmonid majority living in Alterna. And the new creatura in the trailer is a salmonid who gained humanoid form bc she touched the flooze.
Then the logo of tbe game, yadda yadda.
The dream also had a lot of pro players analyzing the maps. Bc moving platforms on maps arent that common a sight, from what I know. Like, platforms thar move on their own and not pushed by players (like the ones in Lemuria hub, or Wahoo, etc)
OKAY THATS IT LMAO THATS ALL I CAN REMEMBER. GOOD DAY INKOPOLIS ITS TIME TO RETURN TO YOUR REGULAR PROGRAM OF SQUIDS IN THE BLENDER
#splatoon#splatoon fanart#splatoon oc#character design#oc#original character#opal owl’s nest#concept I didht really agree with is the salmonling bit. I prefer they stay creature honestly. no offense to the guys who have em!!#the designs are very neat! but for the story Im spefically telling. I prefer them to remain creatura
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To Say “I Love You” Right Out Loud | JJ Maybank
summary: JJ revisits his childhood and how he grew up with you through every side of life until he finally understands why this makes you so special
pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader
genre: fluff, a spark of angst
contains: a combo of “Both Sides Now” by Joni Mitchell and Love Actually (2003), mentions of death and child abuse. John B and JJ are childhood friends in this. I don’t know how to write dialogue. Drug usage (beer, weed).
word count: 6k
author’s note: I was immediately triggered by Joni’s astonishing performance at the Grammy’s and by remembering that the song is in one of my favorite movies. This is my favorite fanfiction I’ve probably ever written and I put so much time and love into this I really hope you like it.
This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.
Rows and flows of angel hair, and ice cream castles in the air; and feather canyons everywhere. I looked at clouds that way. But now they only block the sun, they rain and they snow on everyone; so many things I would have done, but clouds got in my way.
College had finally ended. They had finally done it. Against all odds and contrary to the expectations of others, the pogues were finally free to embark on their own paths. And so, they gathered for one last celebration, a bonfire near the Cat's Ass, surrounded by shotguns, snacks, and reminiscing in the familiar feeling of just being together.
Spreading themselves along the space at the Chateau's yard, most of them ended up divided the comfortable water at the tub and the warmth of the fire, their laughter mingling with the sound of running water as they shared stories of what each of them could remember of their time roaming the Outer Banks as this fearless gang; the sentiment of each flashback was being intensified from the time they spent apart. As they were the pogues, it was not like their time together was abruptly interrupted, but the responsibilities and the minor distance happened during college, and they couldn't run away from it's effects; but the memories of those days seemed tattooed into their hearts and minds as they could recall every moment in lighthearted detail.
In a corner of the Cat's Ass, JJ found himself lost in a sea of memories, surrounded by the comforting embrace of his friends. You sat beside him in the water, the coolness soothing against your skin, while Cleo and Pope nestled comfortably at his other side. Outside, John B, Sarah, and Kie laughed and joked, their voices carrying on the night breeze. As he watched them, a faint, nostalgic smile tugged at the corners of JJ's lips, his heart heavy with the weight of their shared history, thinking back on how far they had come. They had started as a trio—himself and the Routledge twins, bound together by fate and circumstance.
The tree of you lay sprawled out on the sand for what seemed like hours, your eyes tracing the ever-changing shapes that danced across the sky. Castles, pirates, turtles—your imaginations ran wild, weaving tales of adventure and intrigue as you watched the clouds drift lazily overhead. At nine years old, you had joined your brother and JJ just a few moments ago, after spending the afternoon at a friend's house watching a Christmas movie, "Love Actually," with her mother.
As you settled into the sand, JJ couldn't resist a playful jab at the movie, dismissing it as a "dumb chick flick." his mind still floated between that child-like distaste of girls and the appreciation of you tagging along with him and John B back then. You swatted at him, your tiny arms barely reaching his chest, but it only elicited a smirk from the blond pogue. It was nice for you to actually share a moment with a nurturing figure at the absence of your own mom, who had just recently left for Colorado. Besides, you had eaten a whole bag of M&M's that she bought for you to share and you really liked the movie, even if it was funny how sometimes Mia's mom would tell you to close your eyes, your ears, or how sometimes you didnt really catch why she was laughing at some weird scene. You just rolled your eyes and brushed JJ's comment off, suggesting the sky gazing then relishing in the opportunity to spend time with him and your brother.
Your days were often filled with moments like this, carefree and full of laughter, the sound echoing against the backdrop of crashing waves. JJ's mother would eventually come to fetch the three of you, ushering you inside for sweet treats and cozy nights spent squeezed together in JJ's tiny room. Or you'd spend hours playing in the grass, watching as the river met the sea, until Big John's bell rang out, signaling the end of another day. You would get home covered in dirt, JJs hair color nearing yours and your brothers, so you would have a nice shower and come out to your dad telling treasure tales and making you hot chocolate.
One day, as Big John finished building a set of three swings for you, JJ's parents arrived. Standing side by side, the couple had brought beer and peanuts to complement what your dad already had inside for the night. That day, you were playing for hours, your small frame struggling to mount the swing until the duo stepped in to help. John B had made a mess while trying to help you hop on, and JJ stepped forward to push you, but in excited haste, he pushed too hard, and you tumbled to the ground, scraping your knee. As your first cry pierced the air, the adults rushed to your side, JJ's mother soothing your pain with stinging medicine and comforting words.
In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of JJ, guilt etched on his face as he watched you wince in pain. But your brother nudged him, urging him to shake off his guilt and claiming that this was just a mere blip in the larger scale of the adventure you lived today.
And as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the beach, Luke took charge, setting a bonfire ablaze near the ancient tree in the backyard. The flames flickered casting shadows that stretched out against the sand. You gathered around the fire, marshmallows in hand to be skewered and toasted, laughter filled the air and echoed into the night. The hours slipped away unnoticed, so as the night wore on and the fire burned low, reluctantly, you bid farewell to your blonde friend as he left with his parents.
The life you lived was simple; living in the less fortunate side of the island, you couldnt really enjoy much more than moments like these; the food wasn't fancy, the drinks weren't expensive, your houses weren't pretty and big, so you relied mostly in home made playthings and your own imagination, but you were happy that way; the youthful innocence made all the diferences between you and the kooks be seen with rose coloured glasses, and while in the company of your brother, your best friend, and the team of parents that you saw as guardian angels, it all just seemed warm. It seemed like it would be fine.
One day, though, just as the sky turns cloudy at the end of summer, signaling the onset of storm season, JJ's demeanor shifted, casting a shadow over his usual brightness. At fourteen now, he had been seeming distant and preoccupied at school for weeks, until one day after class, he reached out to you with a heavy heart. Fidgeting nervously, his hands clammy and cold, he confided in you about his mother's illness, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air. Knowing how much his mother meant to you both, he sought solace in sharing his burden with you, trusting you with his vulnerability. "Mumma's sick, I think... been in the hospital for a while now," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't visit because I'm not sixteen yet... I- I wanted you to know, but you can't tell John B." And as you hugged him, you promised to keep his secret, the first one you kept just between the two of you.
And as JJ clung to you and John B in the solemn silence of the cemetery, the stark reality of their loss weighed heavily upon you, casting a shadow over your once bright and colorful world.. JJ's mother's absence lingered like a specter in their home, his father grappled with the weight of his grief, seeking solace in alcohol and spiraling into a downward spiral of despair. The once vibrant hues of their family life began to fade, replaced by the darkness of addiction and aggression. JJ watched helplessly as his father's temper flared more frequently, his outbursts leaving scars both physical and emotional. The sanctuary of their home became a battleground, each day a struggle to navigate the minefield of his father's unpredictable moods.
In the aftermath of his mother's passing and the turmoil within his home, JJ withdrew into himself, building walls around his heart that even his closest friends struggled to breach. He became increasingly unreachable, his once vibrant presence dimmed by the weight of his grief and the scars of his father's aggression. Some days, he would disappear altogether, only to reappear with a purple eye hidden beneath dark glasses, a silent testament to the struggles he faced behind closed doors. And when he did show up, his demeanor was somber, his face etched with a perpetual frown as he rejected activities he once enjoyed. Even cloudgazing at the beach became a source of frustration for JJ, as he lamented the impending rain or the end of summer, his words tinged with bitterness and resignation. As you and your brother looked on, helpless in the face of his pain, you could only watch as JJ retreated further into himself, the vibrant colors of his spirit muted by the shadows that engulfed him.
The tension crackled in the air as you confronted JJ, frustration bubbling to the surface like a storm about to break. "Why won't you just watch 'Love Actually' with me, like, once? It'd help distracting you, y'know!?" you demanded, your voice tinged with exasperation. "You can't keep avoiding fun, JJ. You can't lose hope and light just because things are tough."
But JJ's response was sharp, his tone laced with bitterness. "Those things are for kooks, y/n" he retorted, his words heavy with the weight of his pain. "Pogues can't afford to indulge in luxuries like love and hope. We have to focus on surviving you know."
Your heart sank at his words, feeling the distance between you grow with each passing moment. "If you really look for it, JJ," you countered softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I've got a sneaky feeling that love is all around. Even for us Pogues." But JJ's expression remained hardened, his walls firmly in place as he turned away, the gap between you widening with each step he took.
John B stepped in a while later, his voice calm but firm as he defended his friend. "He's been through a lot," John B interjected, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of empathy and understanding. "Give him time, he'll come around. I know he will."
But despite John B's reassurances, the weight of your worry and frustration bore down on you like a heavy burden. Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you sought solace in the arms of your father, tears streaming down your cheeks as you poured out your heart. "I didn't mean to be petty," you sobbed, your voice choked with emotion. "But I'm just so worried about how Luke has been treating JJ. I miss him, Dad. I miss the way things used to be." And as your father held you close, comforting whispers soothing your troubled mind, you cried yourself to sleep, longing for the comfort of simpler times and the warmth of JJ's presence by your side.
A few days after the heated exchange, JJ found himself drawn to the familiar solace of the beach. As he laid alone on the sand, the rhythmic sound of the waves echoing in the background, he cast his gaze upward, chuckling at the shifting shapes and colors of the clouds above. Yet, amidst the tranquility of the moment, a pang of longing stirred within him.
Reflecting on recent events, JJ realized that he had begun to see clouds from two distinct perspectives—from the highs and lows of life's tumultuous journey. But amidst the solitude, his mind drifted to an understanding; to how he seemed to have looked at clouds like this from two different perspectives now, from up and down, and still he would recall better colorful and elusive memory of your company. He remembered the joy of pointing out funny shapes at the sky with you and your brother, laughter echoing into the vast expanse. It was a memory painted in hues of warmth that contrasted with the darker shades of recent events. In that fleeting moment of recollection, JJ yearned to return to that moment exactly, to say sorry, at least. And alone at that same beach, he felt like he had a perspective of a future for the first time in a long time. He wanted to see if he truly knew clouds at all, or if there was a new side to it.
JJ was abruptly brought back to reality by Pope's punchline of a memory of his own; he was retelling the story of how he met Cleo at college, and how she wouldn't have passed half her subjects f it wasn't for him. As the group erupted into laughter, he did the same to mask the fact that he had zoned out for a minute, but JJ's gaze instinctively sought yours, his heart yearning for the comfort of your smile. And as his eyes met yours, a warmth spread through him, his thoughts drifting to another memory
Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels; the dizzy dancing way that you feel as every fairy tale comes real. I've looked at love that way. But now it's just another show, and you leave 'em laughing when you go. And if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away.
At sixteen years old, you had a full understanding of the dizzying, electric sensation that washed over you whenever JJ emerged from the sea, his board in hand. It was a feeling that stirred deep within you, igniting a spark that refused to be extinguished. Yet, despite the intensity of your emotions, uncertainty plagued your heart. You couldn't decipher JJ's true feelings for you; for every significant gesture or word he offered, there was an equal measure of aloofness or distance.
There were moments when JJ's actions spoke volumes, leaving you breathless with hope and anticipation. But just as quickly, he would retreat into himself, leaving you to question whether his affections were genuine or merely fleeting. And then there were the times when he would disappear into the crowd at a kegger, his attention captured by another girl, leaving you to grapple with the ache of unrequited longing.
Fearing the consequences, you kept your emotions hidden from your brother, John B, despite his keen intuition and suspicions about your lingering glances. Instead, you found solace in the companionship of Pope and Kiara, the only other pogue girl. Your friendship with Kiara blossomed rapidly, providing a safe haven where you could confide in her about everything, including the complexities of your feelings for JJ, seeking her guidance and understanding.
In December of that same year, a vivid memory remains etched in your mind—the day JJ was meant to pick you up from work and take you to the Chateau to meet up with the rest of the crew. Kiara had proposed the idea of a secret Santa, with the stipulation that the gifts could only be candy or chocolate—She herself aiming to guarantee that she'd get a bag or two of Sour Patch Kids. As you exited the souvenir shop, clutching your own "Paradise On Earth" cap, you spotted JJ waiting for you by the Twinkie—the van John B claimed would be safer than the bike. With both hands hidden behind his back, you shot him a questioning look. "Hello?" you greeted tilting your head slightly to the side, to which he responded with a playful smile, feigning surprise at seeing you. "Oh, hello ma'am, your carriage is right here!" he exclaimed, extending his arms towards the open door of the van, one hand tightly clutching something that piqued your curiosity. Hopping onto the Twinkie, you couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious object as JJ closed the door and took his place behind the wheel.
During the ride, JJ attempted to coax the name of your secret Santa out of you, but you remained tight-lipped. Upon parking the van at the Chateau, he sat in silence for a few moments, and you studied him intently. "Oh, before I forget," he said non-chalantly, reaching into his pocket and offering you the object he had been concealing—a ceramic lobster adorned with a tiny Christmas hat, clearly crafted by him. "This is for the nativity scene you keep in your room, I just didn't have time to make the other one..." he explained, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he confessed that he hadn't received your name for the candy exchange but couldn't bear to leave you without a gift.
You stood in awe for a moment, marveling at the thoughtful gesture and the evident reference it held. JJ's apprehension melted away as your eyes met his, a radiant smile spreading across his face. "Wait, wait, wait... Are you trying to tell me that there was more than one lobster at the birth of Jesus?" you quoted, teasingly. JJ rolled his eyes playfully, completing the reference with a loud "duh!" his laughter mingling with yours as you stepped out of the car into the moonlit night, making a lighthearted entrance at the Chateau and eliciting a knowing look from Kiara towards John B.
As time passed, you welcomed Sarah into the fold, introduced by John B with starry-eyed affection that spoke volumes of their budding romance. With the dynamic between her and Kiara settled, John B wasted no time in proudly declaring their relationship to the group—a declaration met with hugs, smiles, and lighthearted jokes about not hurting each other.
One day, Sarah suggested a surf trip to a lesser-known beach nestled between Figure 8 and the Cut, its pristine beauty a sight to behold with crystalline waters and powdery white sand. As you surfed the afternoon away, basking in the warmth of the sun, you found yourself sprawled on the sand along with the rest of the group, supporting yourself on your elbows and catching your breath as you watched JJ roll a joint with practiced ease. "I like this shit," JJ declared, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance. "We can be neglected misfits or whatever, but I love leading this life with you guys. I don't even care about what people think of me! "long as I have a board and you guys, 'm gonna be saying I'm rich... Especially if I have this!" He gestured towards the joint, his words met with cheers from the group.
Your smile started weak but grew as the group cheered. In that moment, you felt a sense of family, and your appreciation for JJ weighed heavily on your chest. Despite the challenges, he had found a way to see life in a positive light, even after Big John went missing. As the wind blew sea salt into your eyes, you turned your face toward JJ. "Yeah, yeah… you know, I keep saying it… but if you really look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that—"
"Y/n, if I hear that quote just one more time!" Sarah interrupted, and the others joined in with her lighthearted protest.
With time, JJ's behavior became increasingly perplexing since after sharing moments like this, he would leave you alone, retreating into the company of the other Pogues with a suddenness that felt jarring and awkward. His focus would shift, his attention consumed by their own banter, leaving you to wonder where you fit into the equation.
It was during these moments of isolation that doubts crept in, whispering of insecurities and unspoken fears that lingered just beneath the surface. Wondering if you did something wrong, you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing as you watched JJ immerse himself in the dynamics of the group, his laughter mingling with theirs as you stood on the sidelines, a silent observer to a world that felt increasingly distant and unfamiliar.
One morning, as you shuffled through the Chateau's corridors, the aroma of breakfast lingering in the air as John B shuffled through the kitchen, you noticed JJ's door ajar. You peeked inside with the intention of wishing him a good morning, only to be met with a sight that shattered your makeshift reality of him. JJ hovered over another girl in his bed, their closeness echoing a betrayal that left you speechless.
"Hey, whoa! Sorry!" His voice softened as he realized it was you, not your brother, at the door. The shock on your face was palpable as you hastily pushed the door closed, shaking your head to dispel the image burned into your mind. Stumbling down the corridor, you muttered a distant "morning" to Kie and Pope, who were still groggy on the couch, woken by the commotion.
Throughout the day, both JJ and yourself moved in a state of flustered avoidance, exchanging glances laden with sheepish guilt. JJ's eyes mirrored the remorse of a caught wrongdoer, but you couldn't summon anger; instead, you carried the weight of hurt and confusion, grappling with the realization that he wasn't yours to claim.
As the day waned and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Chateau, you found solace on the hammock. With the remnants of the day lingering, you confided in Sarah about the events, the words tumbling out as the weight on your chest grew heavier. The hammock cradled you in its gentle sway as another day ended, leaving you to confront the tangled emotions that now clouded the once-clear skies of your friendship with JJ.
JJ vividly remembered June of the following year, with your birthday fast approaching. Usually, you wouldn't stop talking about how much you loved having your birthday during the summer, and everyone would plan something special to mark the occasion. Kie and Sarah would always get you fancier gifts, like a new top or necklace, while the boys made sure there was a cake to share, probably under the tree lights at another night spent at the Cat's Ass, chuckling at the stupid name JJ had given to the tub.
But this year was different. You and the girls wouldn't stop talking about this idiotic touron, Jeremy, who had apparently flirted with you when you helped him at the store. Now, your attention seemed solely focused on him, much to JJ's annoyance. He rolled his eyes and huffed aloud whenever Jeremy's name was mentioned, with Pope nudging him to keep his cool.
"He's gonna take me to a summer fair," you grimaced, looking into the mirror as Kiara clasped a necklace around your neck. Sarah and JJ hovered on the kitchen counter, Pope sat on the couch, and your brother leaned against the doorframe of your room with a protective frown on his face. John B always believed you and JJ would end up together, and he felt safe with that perspective because he knew and trusted JJ. But that didn't happen with Jeremy.
Across from him, you, Sarah, and Kie giggled with scenarios and provocations, "What if he brings you a giant teddy bear and tries to win you a goldfish?" Kiara teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
Sarah snickered. "I can already picture it!"
Meanwhile, JJ fought to keep a frown from appearing on his own face. He was unwilling to let you know how he really felt about the situation, and he avoided giving his jealousy away to his friends. As you exited laughing with the guy in his car—a godforsaken Jeep, for crying out loud—JJ was still unknowingly clenching his jaw, his mouth twisted in a disgusted frown.
Sarah, the only one still outside by now, smiled to herself and snuck up on him before reaching a hand to pat his back. The gesture was meant to silently convey far more than his poisoned mind could grasp at the moment.
He chuckled at that memory; you had to endure a girlfriend of his own during college, and he watched as two or three other guys broke your heart as well—he wanted to go out there and punch them every time, but preferred that only John B externalized that thought. From those memories, he realized he had looked at love from both sides of it with you, from give and take, but years later he wasn't so sure if you'd be keen on the idea of him ever again. JJ turned to you in the tub, whispering, "Where's that lobster I gave you that Christmas?" You were a bit taken aback by his sudden recall but smiled back, mimicking the tone of his voice, "Been keeping it on my bookshelf all year long now."
John B and Sarah were now playfully arguing about the two perspectives from when she joined the group, with Kie tagging along to remind them of how they had to make amends beforehand. It made JJ come back fully into the scene. As he looked around, he realized they were sitting in couples, at least Pope and John B, and he held back a nostalgic smirk at the thought of how his younger self would react to both his old friends now "pussy whipped," stuck in relationships and breaking the "no pogue on pogue macking" rule—he didn't know love at all.
He was different too, at least Kiara said so, coming at him a few days ago before graduation with a whole "you've changed, became more yourself and know how to separate what you went through from what you are, I'm so proud you're opening the surf shop—but please make it eco-friendly" speech. It was nice to look back and realize how his years and moments with the Pogue family kept balancing out all the rest. Now he would open a sick surf shop, Poguelandia flag above it and all, right in the corner from the souvenir one you worked since you were fifteen—he didn't know if you had bigger plans than that after graduating though, but that was an uneasy thought he preferred to ignore.
Tears and fears and feeling proud to say, "I love you" right out loud! Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I've looked at life that way. Oh, but now old friends they're acting strange, and they shake their heads and they tell me that I've changed. Well something's lost, but something's gained, in living every day.
Kiara was the first one to leave, claiming that this was really good and that she knew that with the pogues there were never really goodbyes, but that she had an early morning tomorrow with a sea-turtle project. Then, as the fire died out and the minutes turned into hours, the two couples left as well. Pope and Cleo claimed that they still had to shower before going to bed, and John B only snuggled with Sarah, pushing her towards the house. As the couple giggled, JJ noticed from his peripheral vision when you jiggled your eyebrows at Sarah, but the blonde only winked at you, pointing at the both of you at the tub before turning back. You sighed, distancing yourself from him now that you had more space in the water, and JJ held back a smile as the tree lights illuminated your pink cheeks. At twenty-two, he felt just like a teenager in that moment.
There were a few quiet minutes then, you were looking intently at him, drawing each of his features with your eyes as if trying to tattoo the image of his wet torso on your brain, but JJ didn't notice; he was lost in thought, provoked by being alone with you again. JJ realized that ever since he could remember, even though your brother was his de facto best friend and even as the group grew larger, you were there. For every phase and every belief that each one etched into him, you were there. As he looked at both sides of life, at win and lose, you were right beside him, either winning and losing as well or just supporting him emphatically through it.
Somehow he could always just recall how his pogue life acquired a rose-colored filter with you in it; he'd recall life's illusions with you at his side. You were there. You were it. And he didn't know his next step at all, but he wanted you in it; ached for it even.
He feigned cold as an excuse to get you both out of the tub, grabbing the one towel thrown onto a chair and wrapping it around you as you exited as well. He threw a familiar, amicable smile in your direction to disguise how he was, again, lost in his own train of thought. A hand rested on the small of your back as he led the two of you to the Chateau. As you got to the front porch, the other reached for your pulse gently, trying to stop you from entering. JJ became conscious of how he was dripping onto the wooden porch, but he didn't care, calling you by your nickname in a low voice. He was acting fast, planning something but also acting instinctively, intending to speak just from memory.
"Hey, uhm..." he stopped himself again as your eyes locked onto his, growing a little bit nervous now. Your eyebrows shot up expectantly, and some of your hair was sticking to your wet face. You'd be the death of him.
"With any luck, by next year, I'll be going out with one of these girls..." Your brows pinched, and eyes flashed with recognition as JJ shuffled his phone, some drops falling from his hair onto the screen before he turned it in your direction with a picture of Kendall Jenner and sliding his finger so it would also show one of Giselle Bündchen. You laughed, gulping expectantly.
"But for now, let me say, without hope or agenda, just because we finished college— even though it's at Christmas that you tell the truth." You chuckled again, but felt like you were hyperventilating, unable to believe that this was really happening to you. Much less that JJ Maybank had memorized a scene from the "dumb chick flick" you obsessed with since you were a mere child. You battled with your own feelings as you tried to let him finish.
"To me, you are perfect, and my wasted heart will love you until you look like this..." He shuffled again with the tiny screen, a smirk on his face as he turned it to you. A photo of a very old and wrinkly woman made you chuckle. Under it, it read "former surfer lady turns viral as she advises to the risks of not wearing sunscreen." You couldn't hold the cackle that left you at that, not even worried about the rest of the group sleeping inside the house, which made JJ smile widely as well.
"Oh my God! Oh my God, I love you..." A loud sigh met a sob halfway as you looked up, feeling pounds lighter after saying so naturally something you had been burying for years, feeling absurdly proud of just that. "I love you so much, what the fuck! I've loved you forever." You beamed at him again, relief written all over his face as he said it back proudly. "I'm sorry for the wait; it wasn't on purpose—Swear it." He grabbed both your cheeks as you laughed, smiling from ear to ear as his face etched closer to yours by the second. Your noses were touching already when he whispered in a low tone, "fuck, y/n..." as your mouths glued together longingly.
The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, a rush of warmth spreading through you as if the sun had risen inside your chest. JJ's touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as his hands cradled your face gently, his fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. Every moment felt like an eternity as you lost yourselves in the kiss, the taste of saltwater, beer and weed mingling with the sweetness of the moment.
For JJ, it was as if everything he had been holding back, every unspoken word and hidden feeling, was finally pouring out into this one embrace. His heart raced in his chest as he kissed you, his mind buzzing with the realization that he had found something truly precious in you. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a culmination of years of friendship and longing finally coming to fruition.
As you pulled away, breathless and flushed, JJ's eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that took your breath away. In that moment, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again. You had crossed a threshold together, stepping into a new chapter of your lives filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a future together. And as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that this was just what you wanted; like you were made for just that.
"I don't even want to come inside, I don't wanna-" you said, sighing mid chuckle, "don't wanna do anything right now, God, JJ, I'm like in a haze!" He clung to you, chuckling, his hands going to your arms, your neck, your hair—he wanted to touch all of you. "Always have the hammock..." he suggested, and you rushed your way there as if just walking would make you lose any time with him.
After you spent a while staring at the stars in the sky, listening to the chirping of crickets in between small, sloppy kisses, JJ sleepily muttered "I feel like I'm fucking high right now," you both laughed "like I'm floating—life accomplishment kind of thing." you swatted at his chest, lightheartedly telling him to stop being silly before readjusting in the wet towel that served as a blanket for the two of you.
Wrapped in each other's arms, you drifted off to sleep, the sound of the river running to meet the ocean lulling you into a state of contentment. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the warmth of JJ's embrace and the soft rhythm of his breathing. It was a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of perfection in an imperfect world.
The warm rays of the morning sun gently kissed the faces of the sleeping pogues as they stirred awake, the sounds of birdsong filling the air. Stretching and yawning, they emerged from their makeshift beds scattered across the Chateau, the pull-out couch and matresses on the floor.
As they gathered outside to clean the space free of empty cans and wrapping paper, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, John B's gaze was the first one to fall upon the sight of JJ and you nestled together in the hammock, still fast asleep. He nudged Sarah first, but soon a collective smile spread across their faces as they exchanged knowing glances, a silent understanding passing between them.
"About time," Pope muttered under his breath, eliciting chuckles from the others.
John B grinned, looking at Sarah. "Looks like our boy finally made his move."
Sarah rolled her eyes playfully. "Took them long enough," she teased, but there was genuine warmth in her voice.
Kiara smirked, crossing her arms, she showed a satisfied facade even though she was jumping inside, bubbling with happiness for the both of you; the sparkle of her eyes being hard to hide. "Well, better late than never, I guess."
With a chorus of laughter and gentle ribbing, the pogues left JJ and you to enjoy your moment together, the feeling was that their little family had just grown a little bit stronger. You had woken up the moment the front door banged back against it's frame as it closed the first time, but feeling JJ's chest under your head, you decided to just keep your eyes closed, fighting a grin to show on your face at your friends' commentaries. You were home. And you only wanted to know life now if it was by JJ's side; especially if he'd be scratching your hair like he was doing just now, half a smile on his lips—"Did I take that long?" he questioned, jokingly.
"A lifetime."
If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love, actually, is all around.
#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#jj maybank x routledge!reader#jj maybank x sister reader#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank smut#jj maybank angst#obx fanfiction#obx#obx fic#obx x reader#john b routledge#kiara carrera#pope heyward#sarah cameron#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x oc#jj outer banks#jj obx imagine#jj obx fic#jj obx#jj maybank x kook!reader#jj maybank x kiara carrera
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NGL I do find it funny that the side of the fandom yelling “if you’re uncomfortable with the way Con showed up to a livestream with his whole bulge on prominent display you’re homophobic” is the same side of the fandom that was harboring multiple sexual predators lol throwback to the Canyon Kink Camp!! Anyway shoutout to the canyon for knowing how to be normal about people’s boundaries <3
I notice you sending this message to multiple people. On anon. Smells like teen cowardice.
So, first off -
You are lying through your teeth.
Victims of two sexual predators came forwards... and those sexual predators were immediately thrown out of the canyon. They were blocked/black-listed everywhere and deactivated! Explain to me how that is 'harbouring'?
Some weirdo also started harassing the victims because they were a friend of the perpetrators. They were...... also....... mass blocked and lost all their popularity, as far as I'm aware (I don't actually know that person, and am not on Twitter, etc.)???
Sexual predators will show up literally anywhere in society - including in your precious fandom spaces. Pretending that your half of the fandom is 'pure' and 'perfect' is, in fact, far more dangerous than acknowledging that there were predators, and dealing with them.
Especially when the antis were the ones crowing that people like me, who are abuse and rape survivors IRL, had 'no idea what abuse/rape looks like', and still are making claims like that in the tags - as well as sending asks accusing us of lying about our trauma.
All because we like a fictional character who you hate.
As for Con showing up in his underwear...
Literally nothing was showing.
You saw the SHAPE of a bulge. It was no more revealing than Tom Hiddleston's Loki outfit, and there have been uncensored gifs of that flying around willy-nilly (pun intended) for years without anyone being Shocked and Disgusted about it.
If you're not bothered by men being in underwear when you go to the beach and see guys rocking a budgie smuggler, but you're throwing a massive stink about a queer man being in his underwear on a ticketed show that was always marked as Explicit, and using it as an excuse to call him a sexual predator, I honestly don't know what to say to you.
Boundaries are real and important.
But if you went to an explicit stream and saw something mildly suggestive there, and proceed to accuse a queer man of being a sexual predator... You are the problem.
And yes, you are a homophobe.
Even if you are queer yourself, you are contributing to the dangerous rising current of accusing queer people of being 'degenerate' and 'perverse' for merely existing, because - oh, think of the children.
And that's without mentioning that Con is a vocal supporter of trans kids in the UK. We all know how queer people who dare to support trans people are unjustly painted as predators. It's happening on Tumblr, with the mass reporting and banning of trans men and women for 'inappropriate content' that is no more explicit than what cishet people have on their blogs. It's happening all over the world.
Hell, all profits from Con's livestream went to Mermaids (UK charity for trans folx) and true colours united (homeless lgbt youth charity).
Take a good long look at your argument. Take a good long look at the current political climate for queer people. Ask yourself who your insistence that Con is sexually inappropriate for... wearing underwear, is really helping.
If you feel this unsafe around even the vaguest suggestion of genitalia, the onus is on you to avoid any streams where you might encounter it. You're no different than people who read Explicit-marked work on AO3 and leave hatemail for the authors because you encountered smut.
#the izcourse#izzy hands#israel hands#izzy the spewer#izzy canyon#ofmd#our flag means death#con o'neill#ofmd fandom critical
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Mine and His <3
Fic Description: As a background type scientist, you aren’t very special in the world of Pandora. That changes, when you are noticed by Jake Sully, and fortunately, his rival, Colonel Quaritch. 18+ MDNI!!!
Tw: Implied non-con, power dynamics, dom-coded! Jake sully + Miles Quaritch, sub-coded hyperfem!reader, fingering, Jake/Quaritch talking down to reader/ bimbofication, ownership, major size kink bc human reader.
A/n: this turned out way longer than I thought, and I originally meant to post it on Christmas.its a bit hard for me to consistently post now. Anyways, merry belated Christmas/ holidays, and hope yall enjoy my first time bringing the very (hot) Miles Quaritch to life!! Don’t we love the balance between a young Jake Sully and an older Miles Quaritch <3 I am planning to make a part two with more intense smut! Stay tuned! (this was lacking a bit 😭) alsooo pls help a gorl out and reblog if you like this!!
The moon rose above you as you made your way to the forest, your mask in tow, and your boots. You were meeting Jake at the edge of the forest. He would not want you to venture in alone. Your tiny human form could not take it, as he would say. The Na’vi man was extremely possessive over you. The leaves rustled amongst the wind, bioluminescent crickets danced in the air.
You stand still as the ferns brush against your leg, wondering where your Jake was. You came to Pandora as a sort of background character — always behind the scenes, never noticed, usually brushed to the side. You were apart of the anthropological and religion team, researching and observing Na’vi culture, religion, and social relations and norms.
Every morning, you rose from your cold, metallic, cot, put on your oxygen mask, and worked at the lab from 8-5. Sometimes you would be invited into the community to learn, yet you never lingered around too long. The other scientists were more fluent in Na’vi than you were, and so, they would make a better impression.
It was only until one night, where the half-moon rose and shone over the sky, swirled as if it was cotton candy, was the night where you became noticed. You, made an impression.
~ Three months ago ~
You stayed to observe a Na’vi ritual, one called the “Sun Dance,” where one ingests a hallucinogenic worm in order to have a vision of their fate for the future, their destiny. This ritual served to breach the gap between the sacred and the normal, the ordinary, to alter reality in which a religion exists everywhere — not only in a book or a house. This was Na’vi religion — Animism.
You enjoyed the ritual and truly felt that you were starting to grow connected with the community. However, you were still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, and accidentally happened to wander onto a slippery log — that also acted as a bridge for a deep canyon below. Your tiny human feet stumbled across the bridge, and then slipped. You landed on your stomach, then realizing the vast canyon below — and that you would face sudden death if you were to drop into it. You screamed out in pain as a branch pierced your leg. You hear heavy steps behind you, you pass out.
You wake up beneath a bioluminescent large plant, with its long tendrils gently swaying over your face. You feel something on your leg, and look to see quite a handsome Na’vi man tending to your thigh, which had a large scrape on it.
“Hey. You’re awake. Almost fell there, girl.” You study his features a bit more. His hair is long, black, his eyes a deep yellow. Chiseled jaw, veiny arms, and wide shoulders <3 adorned with an interesting necklace. You muster the courage to speak to this beautiful man in front of you.
“Yes, I — um, sorry. I should have been more careful. I’m still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, although I’ve done many studies here,” you explain to him. “S’alright. I can take you back to your home base, if ya like,” the man offers, his tail swishing a bit. He must have been excited to talk to you. You blush at the note of attention from him, and agree.
The two of you begin walking back, the Na’vi man stopping momentarily to make sure there were no creatures of harm nearby. You learned his name was Jake. Jake Sully. You watch his long braid sway from side to side, like a pendulum, as you walk behind him. The two of you have been talking, sharing your stories, your journeys, what brought the two of you to Pandora, respectively.
“Was a marine, when I first came here. I was trying to pay for my surgery, to well — get my legs back. M’sure you know, the RDA loves screwing everyone over. ‘Specially me,” Jake explained to you, as he led you through the dark, softly glowing canopy of trees.
“So you weren’t very good at school, then, I assume,” you snicker, trying to poke a bit of fun at him. “And you are?,” he retorts back, emitting a deep hearty laugh, a sound you liked. “I do have a PhD, yes,” you giggle a bit as you look to see his reaction. He only huffs, yet you swore you could see a little smile behind that stoic face of his.
The two of you continued to walk back and engage in this somewhat flirtatious banter. He led you back to your lab, wishing you a goodnight.
“Jake, wait,” you touch his arm as he was about to leave, and he flinched, his ears folding back. He turns to you. “I would want to see you again. It would be nice, I think,” you offer, hoping he would take the initiative. “Hmm. Doubt it. You stay safe, miss PhD,” he retorts, and runs off into the forest.
Yet you wouldn’t take his “doubt it” for an answer.
The following night, you ventured again into the forest, hoping to find him. You might as well take a few pictures, hoping to find your way into the Omaticaya village. You did not find your way there, and instead ended up running into a few creatures. Jake saw, luckily, and saved your “prissy lil’ self” (as he called it) again.
Nights with Jake became a regular occasion. Although you and him had more of a fair share of differences, you found it to be true, that opposites attract.
————
~ Present Day ~
You smiled as you remembered how you first met him. The two of you only went on ‘dates’ together, where he would show you an interesting place he liked in the forest, or take you on a ride on his ikran. Nothing more, just conversation.
Yet, the more you got to know him, the more you wanted him. In a way that surpasses conversations or dates. You really had hoped that tonight, you could go further.
Everything about him was just perfect. His shining eyes, his strong arms, his beautiful voice that made you feel so safe <3.
You hear his footsteps behind you. “Babygirl. How’s my favorite scientist doing?,” he chuckles, his big hands gently gripping your face, giving you a kiss on top of your head. “Good,” you giggle, reaching up to give him a hug. You always have felt so safe in his arms.
“Where are we off to tonight?,” you curiously poke at him as he leads you over a bridge — the both of you hearing the gentle splash of the pond below. “You’ll see, hun. Somewhere real special,” he reassures. Where could this place be? How exactly could you get here, to be spending time with this beautiful Na’vi man, who possibly could be yours??
The anticipation was simply too much to handle. “Wanted t’a bring ya here, to ask somethin’. Was thinkin’ you see, that you could become a true member of the Omaticaya. Pass all our tests and all,” he says, while you lean your head on his shoulder.
You think on it for a bit. “But why, Jake? It would mean that I need a Na’vi body…,” you trail off. “Exactly. Ever since the day I met you, sweetie, I wanted you to be mine. You’re just too goddamn adorable for your own good,” he chuckles. “Can’t make you mine though, officially, without you becoming a tuté (woman) of our people. You will prove yourself to the Tsahik. We will mate, then. For life. You’ll be mine, girl,” he smiles warmly at you.
You agreed, overwhelmed with happiness!! “My Jake, why can’t we mate now?,” you ask, although as a Pandoran anthropologist, you knew the answer. Your human body was no match for his Na’vi strength. If you were to mate now, not only would it be against Omaticaya customs, his sheer power would most likely kill you!!
“Thought you knew the answer there, Miss PhD,” he teases. “How’s about this. I give you a little taste of what’s to come if you join the people of the forest,” his voice shifts to a deeper tone, his eyes a bit hooded now.
A large blue hand the size of your head gently grips your face, turning you towards him. His soft lips plant a few kisses on the top of your head, moving down to your neck. All of a sudden, your oxygen mask gets a little too hot for your face <3 your heartbeat quickens as well.
“Jake…I’d love nothing more than to join the Omaticaya,” you pant, in between breaths as he continues his ministrations. “That’s my good girl. See if those scientists of yours can make you an avatar. Want you to be mine,” he purrs, with a bit of a darker undertone as his large hands squeeze and grope the plush curves of your body — to the point where it’s painful.
You pant and squeal as his fingers trace patterns on your soft tummy, his large face planting a few kisses there as well. “Love this human body, babygirl. Bet your Na’vi one would be even better…,” he praises you. <3
His fingers were getting lower and lower, tracing circles on the hem of your waistband. “Jake…,” you pant out. “Want you…,” a cry, a plea for help. You had no idea how intense your fervor was for him, until now.
“Can’t give you all of me, hun. You can’t take me yet, m’ too big for you. Don’t want ta hurt your pretty little body,” he chastised you, his yellow eyes full of concern.
Just about when you were to agree, to let him give you a taste, that taste that you’ve been waiting for, that taste that your heart (and other parts of you) ached for, the two of you heard a rustling behind, in the bushes.
Out step two steel toed boots, a blue RDA uniform. At first you thought it was someone human — you were surprised to see that it was a Na’vi man wearing the suit. You quickly try to hide, using Jake’s wide chest as a safe haven.
Jake’s eyes burn with rage, disgust. His ears fold back, a low growl escapes his throat, his Adam’s apple moving slightly.
“Miss me, corporal?”
This man had a smug way of expressing himself, hands on his hips. He looked to be a bit older than Jake.
“Forgot about our agreement, all those years ago, Sully?” Jake hissed in response, telling this man, whom he called ‘Quaritch,’ to kindly fuck off.
Quaritch, a man of his word, did not take this as an answer, and continued to move closer.
Until he saw you. He stopped. “Whose this you’ve got here, corporal?” Jake hisses again, standing up this time to shield you from Quaritch. “Leave her out of this,” his tone low, possessive, angry.
“Why don’t you come on out, cupcake?,” his eyes turn towards you. Just like your Jake’s, you saw that they were full of lust, hunger. No affection, though. They were cold, empty. This man was attractive — yes, yet something about him felt off.
Jake reassures you that you don’t have to do it — until Quaritch himself pulls you out from behind Jake’s back. Quaritch circles you, tutting, eyebrows raised.
He turns to Jake. “Got yerself a sweet little toy, huh, Sully? My, my, she’s quite a looker,” Quaritch comments, his voice sickeningly sweet, as his large blue hand plays with your hair. Jake was fuming — ready to start a fight with the man. It was clear that the two had a past rivalry, and never made amends.
It was also clear that the two wanted you.
“How’s about this, corporal? Your little girl here, could very well seal our agreement, don’t ya think?,” he taunts Jake.
“She’s mine, Quaritch. Don’t even think about it.” Quaritch then retorted that it was either this, or his rifle. Jake then agreed.
“Glad we’re on the same page, Sully. She’ll be ours, to share, won’t ya, cupcake? How’s about I show you how we do things where I’m from, hmm?,” his southern accent cooing at you goes straight to your core, between your legs.
You glance at Jake, hesitantly watching. Quaritch then sits down, his giant arms pulling you into his lap, one hand behind your head, the other on your hip.
“Such a pretty girl. Gonna give you something to feel good about,” he chuckles, peppering your face and neck with kisses, his fangs slightly biting into your shoulder as you gasp!!
Jake is infuriated, still watching from the side, although he looks like he is enjoying watching you get ravished by the older Na’vi. Quaritch’s soft lips trail down your soft tummy and waistline, your small hand intertwined with his rough, calloused one.
His fingers trail your waistband — realizing that Jake already pulled off your clothes — your wetness soaked his thigh. <3
“Aww. How cute, pussy’s all soaked f’me. I think I know what she wants,” he taunts you, showing you his big fingers, almost the length of your arm. <3
You nod vigorously, completely forgetting about Jake. “Yes. Please, please, anything,” you beg him. “How’s about you call me sir, hmm, sweet cheeks? More fittin’, don’t’cha think?,” his southern voice drips as if it were melted caramel, seeping through to your inner submission to these beautiful, tall, men.
You were their toy, theirs to own, theirs to play with, theirs to use as they please and see fit. That’s all you could think about, as your tongue hung out, your eyes closed, small hand gripping the watch on Quaritch’s hand, as his two fingers worked and massaged your gummy walls over and over.
You thought of belonging to the two Na’vi men, passed around from the loving arms of your soon to be mate, to the vicious and unrelenting force that was Miles Quaritch, your ‘sir.’ For these two men, you were fine with leaving your life as a scientist behind, just to trail them around.
You were giddy with the thought of it, as you came undone around Quaritch’s fingers, his reassuring words, “let go f’me, cupcake…,” and Jake’s hands behind you, rubbing the small of your back, this was a taste of a life you never knew you wanted.
Now that you had this taste, you were ready to risk it all to keep this.
You fall asleep in Jake’s arms, as Quaritch bids him a ‘till next time,” and your soon to be mate is left wondering what that phrase entails.
Avatar taglist: @aerangi @jake-sullys-whore @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @brioffthegrid
#liz’s masterlist#avatar smut#quaritch smut#jake sully x fem!reader#quaritch x reader#quaritch x oc#quaritch x y/n#dom!quaritch#dom!jake sully#avatar sully quaritch x you#jake sully fluff#jake sully smut#dilf jake sully#dilf quaritch#liz writes 🖤
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(content warning: heavy angst, SI, despair, and some body horror) Link felt sick.
He’d done it. He’d found one of their graves. He knew if he lingered here too long it would give his position away. He knew if Ganondorf took control at any point from here on out, he’d find out his daughter could be found, could be resurrected and controlled like Link was.
It was an accident. He had been looking for sword shards and had stumbled upon this place, nondescript as it was. Hemisi had never been one for flair, unlike her father.
He couldn’t do this. He refused to let his beloved be corrupted like he’d been. Link would rather die a thousand deaths, would rather burn in the magma of Death Mountain, than let Hemisi feel the agony and torture he felt when Ganondorf used his dark powers to bend his will.
Death Mountain. Death Mountain.
A thought crept into his head, dark, twisted, sickening and horrifying but efficient. It came from his heart, a desperate desire encased in love and fear, sharpened into clarity by his crumbling mind.
With trembling hands, Link picked up the urn. Gerudo more often than not burned their dead. The desert was not a forgiving place in general, and bodies rotted quickly. It was the quickest and cleanest way to lay them to rest. Link wasn’t sure Ganondorf could work with just ashes, but considering he’d managed to resurrect Link from likely dust—given how long it had been, he was surprised there had been much left of him—he wouldn’t put it past him.
Link walked for a long time. There was no way he could teleport with the gloom - it would give everything away. He ducked around canyons, hid behind monster camps; he knew the layout of a majority of the Depths like the back of his hand by now. He certainly knew this area.
In the distance it was brighter. Crimson glowed, a dichotomy of innocence and foreboding in comparison to the purple dim glow of the gloom everywhere. Link made his way towards it, feeling the air growing stiflingly hot. He didn’t have any elixirs to protect himself. He didn’t care.
The lava’s heat made the air swim. Link was already sweating, his footing growing unsteady as his lungs screamed in protest. He felt like he could breathe fire at this point. He still didn’t care.
This is the only way. He can’t resurrect what no longer exists.
May Hylia forgive me. May Hemisi forgive me.
I’m so sorry.
Link was close now. The lava was beginning to make the area unbearable. He nearly dropped the urn with as much his hands sweat and shook. He grimaced as a fiery wind tore through him, his skin blistering, his nerves crying for relief, his mind screaming to accomplish his goal before it was too late, his heart begging to join his beloved in this fate.
He was close enough now. Flames licked at his feet, snapping hungrily at his clothes. He took a breath.
He threw the urn into the fire.
The old clay shattered immediately, and the precious ashes it contained couldn’t even be seen in the lava’s voracious hunger. Every last piece of Hemisi disappeared in a heartbeat, as if her memory being erased were simply an afterthought.
Link threw up.
The force of it made him fall to his knees. His head was spinning, and the dirt here was more hot coals than soil. He didn’t have it in him to scream, even though every fiber of his being was doing so. The rancid smell of bile was only compounded and worsened by its cooking in the heat, and Link heaved again.
A scream finally did tear out of his throat as his hands started to smoke.
Leaping to his feet out of instinct, he tried to scramble back, but he wanted to move forward.
To hell with the sword shards, to hell with Hyrule and Ganondorf’s plans for it, he wanted to go home, he wanted to see her—
He was so tired. He was so lonely.
Link stumbled ahead, tears dried before they could ever leave his eyes. The lava was so close, it wouldn’t take much longer before he—
A hand gripped his wrist, cold and clammy, a blessed relief to his skin, but his mind screamed. Link gasped, trying to run, when another hand grabbed his other wrist, and then his body froze up. Cold, dark energy snaked around him from head to toe, except on his forehead, which burned. Link felt his breath stop, his muscles seize, and then, with agonizing effort in each move, he slowly turned away from the magma. A gloom spawn was directly in front of him, easing him away as he walked with it, his mind and heart screaming and flailing and kicking despite his body placidly going along with the beast. The sword shards were warm in his pouch, a comforting kindling fire in an ice cold abyss, and he almost felt himself hesitate despite Ganondorf’s control.
But no. It wasn’t enough.
His head exploded with pain as he fought the puppeteer, as he tried to break free, but he couldn’t. He never could. Unconsciousness was pulling fast, but he’d lose control entirely if he gave in.
Just do it, his mind whispered. Just let him win. What difference does it make now? He can’t hurt her.
Link was so tired.
Just give in. Let him guide you, go along with it. Let him take care of you.
Link was so lonely.
Let him love you.
He couldn’t stop himself from getting sick again, dark control or not. But since his body was no longer his own, he continued to walk, though his steps stumbled to a halt as he vomited. Gloom spread under his feet, easing the burning from earlier, and Link was pulled under.
When the darkness faded, he was back in the Center, the focal point of all the dark energy, and he heard footsteps rushing towards him. The world was spinning so dizzyingly he could get sick again, but miraculously he didn’t - either that or he just had nothing left in him.
The icy puppet strings that infected his muscles receded, leaving him with a pounding headache and body wide shivers. His knees buckled just as Ganondorf reached him, catching him.
“Link, what were you thinking?!” his fa—abuser demanded, voice shaking. “Why were you over there?”
He’d been playing his role so well. He’d been distracting Ganondorf, helping him in smaller ways, gaining his trust. He didn’t want to do it anymore. He just wanted to die.
“I’m tired,” he whimpered, the tears beginning to fall.
Ganondorf held the boy with trembling arms, but his grip tightened as Link fell apart. The child had no more words to say, only convulsing with full body sobs as Ganondorf gently picked him up to support him better. Link gripped his tunic, quickly soaking it with tears, and the demon king found himself at a loss of what to do.
The image of the boy laying in his arms, bleeding and crying and dying flashed through his mind, and he held him tighter, swaying back and forth.
Ganondorf didn’t understand what had happened. Link had been fine, hadn’t he?
His cries clearly indicated otherwise.
He felt his anger start to swell, an automatic response as his heart screamed, as he felt it race in terror at what had almost just happened. He didn’t like feeling afraid and out of control like this, so desperate to try and fix something that he couldn’t just fix. He bit back a snappish rebuke, channeling his anger into energy as he started to walk around the chamber, holding Link close, so close, he’d almost lost his boy—
For once, he didn’t know what to do.
This was why he had placed his magic in the boy. This right here. Because he’d done this before, this was how he’d died before! He’d sacrificed his life to save that pathetic excuse for a king! Why did the child think he could just throw his life away like this?! Did he not realize how important he was?
Ganondorf again found himself fighting his anger. It wasn’t particularly easy, as he usually just let it out, but years of parenting had taught him some self control.
This place was taking a toll on the boy. He needed to fix that, to help him. He channeled his rage into power, reaching up above into the Surface, feeling the swell of the Blood Moon like a high tide pushing on to land. Gloom gathered around the pair, and he made it take them above.
The air was suffocating a moment as they moved, and then it cleared substantially. A breeze blew, cooling the Gerudo’s hot cheeks, and he took a steadying breath. The smell of cherry blossoms and sweet honeysuckle saturated his nose, too unfamiliar to be comforting but pleasant enough. But for Link, it would mean the world. He’d taken them as close to Kakariko as he could manage. He hoped it was enough.
Link’s sobs hitched and paused as he felt the change in atmosphere, and he peeked his puffy eyes out from the folds of his guardian’s tunic. Ganondorf swept a hand up and down his back as he gazed around in wonder and confusion, a glimmering hope shining in his eyes for a moment.
When he looked upward, red eyes matching the moon perfectly, his face fell.
“W-what—what are you doing?” he asked shakily, eyebrows pulling together in worry. “Stop it, you’re going to hurt everyone—”
“My power is slowly growing. This is not hurting anyone.” Ganondorf assured the boy. “When the time comes we’ll take what is ours.”
Link wiggled feebly in his grip. “No, why can’t you just—stop—”
Ganondorf frowned, tightening his hold. “We had nothing but the harsh sun and winds, while Rauru sat on every resource this bountiful land had to offer. The only way he offered aid was through a vow of fealty, yet he did not have the strength or impetus to rule. Everything about Hyrule is a disgrace - a people who think peace is a more palatable option to the point of laziness and stagnation, an over bloated land full of weak fools! I am a true king, Link, and I will rule this land properly. Nothing will stop that.”
Link’s energy drained out of him, and Ganondorf brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll see, child. When it’s all over, you’ll see how much better it is. Just trust me.”
Link closed his eyes, crying once more. “Let me go.”
“Link—”
“Let me go.”
“No,” Ganondorf said firmly, placing a hand on the boy’s cheek, demanding his attention. “You’re my boy. Your life isn’t a waste, you’re not destined to be cast aside and forgotten. You’re a prince, and I am never letting you go.”
Link watched him, some kind of yearning and desperation fighting the dull look in his eyes, those eyes that used to be so bright with fire and determination, that used to reflect the blood moon beautifully. Ganondorf felt his heart break a little at the sight of it, and his hand shifted to behind the teenager’s head, pulling him forward so he could kiss his forehead. The magic he’d imbued there was a promise of protection, and he would ensure this boy was safe, even from himself. Link trembled under his hold, and he heard him sniffle.
Sighing, he let the boy sink into his embrace once more. “I love you, Link.”
The young boy’s cries carried on the wind, filling the blood stained land. The demon king swayed back and forth, soothing him with gentle hushes. And in the distance, a Hero perked up at the sound of crying, pausing from his meal and grabbing his gear to investigate.
#writing#hero of shadow#man this is what happens when I think about totk#tears of the kingdom#totk#this poor kid I should stop hurting him#And smack some sense into Ganondorf#why do I like writing this so much LOL it’s such a horrifyingly twisted relationship#They love each other so much but it’s so broken#RIP Hemisi again 🥴#legend of zelda#ganondorf#guess who’s coming to rescue our boyyyy#Never let me listen to phase 5 construct factory music#Just… this is the result
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Twitter Talk: Character Trope
I like when a series starts light hearted and dips into darkness before crawling out lighthearted again. I enjoy that shit because I feel like it’s something many people go through from adolescence into adulthood.
For example, I remember back when I was a kid I didn’t know what racism, rape, and other bad things were. I thought the world was lilies and rainbows. And that most people were good at heart.
As I got older it’s like the world that was rainbows and flowers pushed me into a cold desolate canyon with nothing but nostalgia to keep me warm.
Now, that I’m an adult out of that cavern, I see the world for what it is. There are flower fields, cliffs, caves, and flat lands. A variety of places to be in. Some flowers are extremely poisonous. Some the darkest caves have gems. There are aspects of good and bad, ugliness and beauty hand in hand everywhere.
To make this rant simple, you go from seeing the world in black and white to seeing it in various shades of gray.
Which is basically a coming of age story.
Bringing this shit back to Wakfu...I need this for Yugo and Amalia by the end of Wakfu: the Great Wave.
If they go through hell and get nothing. I’m gonna be pissed. I need a happy ending. Real Life is hell. I don’t need bittersweet ending. I need a sweet ending. I need an escape. 😅🥲😭
But this is a French series….🤦♀️ so I’ll brace myself. lol
Darn talented French writers eating baguettes while pulling on your heart strings only to give you bittersweet tales as they laugh in French. 🤣😂🥹🥲😭
#tv tropes#character tropes#character writing#writing#creative writing#wakfu#wakfu la grande vague#wakfu the great wave#onyichii rants
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a dish served cold (mini series - part one)
Wild West Marvel AU
outlaw!bucky x reader after the murder of your pa, you go on a journey to find justice. fate brings you to crimson junction for a reason, and that reason is bucky barnes.
Warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, violence, mentions of death, blood, mention of guns, alcohol, swearing, creepy men, period typical attitudes, outlaw bucky, protective bucky, bucky has issues, mention of robbery & crimes, mention of police (law), mention of flooding & drought, vague mention of animal death, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything
Word Count: 3k
A/N: hiya! it's been awhile. i started a first draft of this story literally like a year ago? it's gone through so many changes to the plot (it was originally called queen of the gunslingers). this has been so refreshing and wonderful to write, i wasn't even sure if i was ever going to post it because western marvel au is so niche but i know a few people enjoyed me & the devil so!! this mini series is pre written so i'll be trying to post updates weekly as i edit. the series is sitting around 25k-30k words and will be 7 chapters long. if you'd like a tag list let me know. sorry for any typos - not proof read.
main masterlist | series masterlist
Rain was supposed to be a welcome sight.
The inhabitants of Crimson Junction had been thankful for the blessing, a relief from the drought that had plagued them. The surrounding areas had been unceremoniously crowned The Dustbowl after seven years of no rain. Fierce winds had blown in, kicking up the dirt, sand, and dust, blanketing the surrounding areas. Crops failed to grow, animals suffocated, and homes were buried. Most left the area, choosing to abandon their land in search of fruitful and safe territories.
The canyons bled crimson the day the rains came; water mixed with the red soil and rock. The people of Crimson Junction celebrated, their prayers were finally answered. It was only as the valleys began to flood and the once barren riverbeds overflowed that the inhabitants considered the bleeding waters an omen.
Those who lived out in the west were familiar with danger. Out in the open, death lurked everywhere. It watched from the desert, a darkness always lingering a few feet away. Death took on many forms—a bullet, a wound, a sickness—but when the rain came disguised as a blessing, no one was prepared for its wrath.
Floods wiped away entire homesteads. Homes and countless heads of cattle were lost to the raging waters, swept downstream, and smashed between debris. Survivors, soaked and shivering in their nightgowns and nightshirts, gathered in the small crossroads town of Crimson Junction. Fortunately, the town had been spared, but it had become an island, isolated in a lake of thick, deep, red mud. Travellers and misplaced locals sought shelter, and the town came to life overnight. The canyons were unstable and too dangerous to travel due to the landslides and debris blockages, and with mud up to your elbows, it would be impossible to walk through, let alone lead a packhorse. So, you were all stranded, patiently waiting until the roads were cleared.
It appeared fate had led you to Crimson Junction for a reason.
The hotel attendant sighed as you descended the stairs of the rickety building, the older man muttering about the mud tracked in through the entrance. Even Crimson Junction had not been spared the sludge. The thick, red substance appeared to be a problem in every establishment in the area, gradually caked onto not only your clothes and shoes but also the flooring.
You gave the attendant a shy nod of your head as you exited into the night. The chill of the night air bit at your bare skin, and you were suddenly grateful for the layers of skirts that pooled around your legs. The road so far had been hot and sticky, with layers of dust that clung to your skin. When it was not still and scorching, the winds would whip violently. Sand and rocks had pelted you, leaving your skin stinging and your hair tangled. The floods had allowed the temperature to finally drop below the pits of hell.
You hesitantly depart the porch of the motel, the heels of your riding boots clicking as you lower yourself onto the street. Wooden planks squelched under your weight as they sank deeper into the sludge. The town had tried to combat the muck by laying out boards to traverse, but despite their good intentions, the wooden boards seemed to sink deeper and deeper with each passing day. The streets echoed something more akin to a pigsty than a walkable path.
With the chill in the air, you hugged your arms around your bodice, still making sure to hike up your skirts to prevent them from dragging through the mud. Ever since finding yourself stuck after the rains, you had resigned yourself to your hotel room. You slept and read to pass the time, and your horse was boarded at the stables for a hefty price. But after days of waiting and your funds running low, you found yourself feeling rather antsy, your impatience growing the longer you waited. With impatience came risk and rash decisions, so, against your better judgement, you opted for a strong drink at the saloon to quieten your mind.
The saloon was alive with music and chatter, with other stranded travellers slurring their words or in a state of undress despite the sun only having recently set. You expected many of them to have wondered into the establishment not long after awakening from whatever alley they had drunkenly stumbled into the night before. It certainly smelled like it, with clothing plastered in mud to match. The chaos allowed you to slip in quietly, finding an empty spot along the bar. You frowned at the coating of muck congealed onto the floor, a mixture of questionable liquids you did not want to identify. With a wave of your hand and coins slid over the sticky bar, you were content staring into space as laughter and singing broke out around you.
Your peace was short-lived. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a looming shape as a body slid in beside you. Your eyes stayed locked on your drink, only noticing the scent of whiskey and sweat clinging to the man.
“Where have you been hidin’, Miss? I ain’t never seen a woman as pretty as you in these parts.”
You expected a lady such as yourself to be few and far between in these lands. Most of the folks who roamed this far into the desert were hardy, stocky, and rough around the edges. You did not fault them for it, but rather a sense of admiration for the determination it had taken to live through the seven years of drought. You were, arguably, a bit delicate in appearance. Though, it was a purposeful presentation. Pristine and shining among the filth. Your hands were smooth; there were no calluses or scars. Hair neatly pinned back, and a clean and tidy handkerchief knotted around your neck. Your skin was untainted by the sun, and your lips were unpeeled. Your dress, though not the height of city fashion, was impractical for such a lifestyle as farming or droving. The layers of fabric were orderly, with intermittent embroidery and lace. You had lived a comfortable life, and it was clear you were raised to be a wife and homemaker. Your Pa had worked hard to afford you such a future.
“Not from these parts.” You spoke into your glass as you raised it to your lips with an eye-roll. A gentle girl you might have been to your Pa, but he was not present. And you were not feeling particularly in favour of being pleasant.
“Traveller, like myself. Guessin’ you stuck ‘cause of the floods too?” The man mused, leaning his forearms against the sticky bar. He shifted his body forward, craning his neck as if desperate to catch a proper glimpse at your face.
“Somethin’ like that.” You respond dryly, unmoving.
“Say, you interested in havin’ a good night, sweetheart? I got a room in the hotel over yonder if you wanna join me.”
Grinding your teeth in annoyance, you jerk your head around to face the man.
“What do you take me for?” You snap at him. You take note of his greying hair and the locks thinning along his hairline. His beard, with uneven, yellowing teeth revealed by cracked lips, turned into a sneer.
“I didn’t mean no insult, darlin’.” He starts, “I ain’t insinuating you’re an easy mark, sweetheart. Just knew I couldn’t let a catch like you go walkin’ out of here without at least tryin’.”
“Charmin’,” you huff. “Did you not consider that I would never want to lay with a dimwitted pest such as yourself?” As you speak, you can see his once-toothy grin harden into gritted teeth and a look of drunken rage wash over his features.
"Well, ain’t you a quick one, huh?” He spits out, his body looming closer. Only moments before the two of you had been invisible, another set of bodies in the crowded saloon. As his voice began to rise, you could feel heads turning and eyes locking onto the both of you as the scene unfolded. “A fuckin’ tease, ain’t ya? Hangin’ around this bar all by yourself, askin’ for it. You tellin’ me a lady like yourself travelling alone ain’t some whore lookin’ for some attention?”
You roll your eyes once more, shooting back the last of your drink. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to remain in your hotel room. Back turned, you begin to walk away from the seething man. In your brief moment of naivety and vunrablitiness, he wraps his mud-clad hands around your forearm, yanking you backwards towards the bar.
“Now where ya think you’re goin’ now, miss? I weren’t done talkin’ to you.” He hissed into your ear, the stench of his warm whiskey breath fanning across your face. You began to lower your hands, reaching for your riding boot. Your fingers gathered your skirts, entangling themselves in the fabrics as you hoisted up the layers. Your hands drew closer to your knees, your back pressing into the hardwood bar, twisting your torso away from the man.
A gruff voice quickly interrupted, drawing your attention away.
“You know this man, ma'am?” The low voice asks. You glance over at it’s owner, a dark-haired man, and look him over with one sweep.
The man was familiar to you, though he wouldn’t know you. Out of all of the towns you had visited in the past few weeks, there was scarcely any that failed to have his likeness plastered upon a bounty board. James Buchanan Barnes. Or Bucky, as he was more commonly known. The papers and gossip of fellow travellers spun a tale, one of a group of heartless butchers and thieves. He was wanted for a train robbery gone wrong in the south. A decent price upon his head, as well as that of his gang. From what you had read, the group had split in an attempt to lose the law. One had gone north, another deeper south, while Barnes had gone west.
The posse of outlaws had been lucky, as the law had hurridly dismissed the chase; a different high-profile robbery had drawn their attention away. One they had prioritised more than the livelihoods of the lowerclass who had been on the train that day. Bounty hunters still pursued, but mostly the world moved on. Some Duke from Europe had been robbed while exploring the west too trustingly, and the story had become an overnight sensation. So Barnes and his companions had become a distant whisper, a sun-bleached and fraying poster behind a bar.
But you had not forgotten Bucky Barnes.
“No.” You finally choke out in reply, your hand raising back to thigh-height as you stand tall. When faced with a killer, you had anticpated a feeling of disgust, but instead a burning curiosity roared through your veins.
Barnes lets out a slow breath, his eyes darting over the unwelcome man. Barnes was easily twice his size, with pure muscle and a wicked look in his eye. There was a charm to him, you supposed, in a rugged, dark-handsome stranger, saviour of damsels in distress type of way. Messy dark hair peaked out from beneath his hat; some pieces curled around the nape of his neck. Behind his dark lashes were icy blue eyes, with the crinkle of a smirk at the corners. Like many others, there was a hint of red earth dusted across his face, neck, and hands. The clothes covering his broad, muscled body looked well-worn, and his boots were caked in mud. You noted the two revolvers slung around his hips and a bandolier stocked with ammunition across his chest.
“Do you want to know this man?” He asks again.
You lift your chin. “No.”
“Good.”
Before you can react, Barnes has leapt forward, landing a solid upper-cut on the drunk man with a grunt. The room erupted into cheers and whistles as the two clashed, glasses smashing and furniture overturned in their wake. You stood frozen, fingers in a white fist around your skirts. There was the sickening sound of bones crunching beneath flesh, and blood sprayed in droplets across sodden floors. As quickly as it started, it was over. One of the bartenders promptly escorted the unruly man out as he seethed and yelled obscenities. The saloon crowd roared back, a pulse of excitement and adreline rushing through the saloon. Barnes put his hands up in surrender as the barkeep eyed him cautiously, but the barkeep inevitably backed off, returning to safety behind the bar. Barnes sweeps a hand through his messy locks, his eyes darting around in search of his hat, which had been knocked to the floor.
Against your better judgement, you bend down, retrieving the hat. You brush some of the red dust and broken glass from the brim before handing it back to the outlaw. He places it solidly back on his head.
“I appreciate your concern, but you didn’t need to do that, Mr.” You tell him, and he shrugs.
“If you say so.” Barnes goes to turn away, then thinks better of it. Sucking his teeth, he tilts his head, looking you up and down once again. His eyes linger on your hair, then your dress, before finally settling on your clenched fists. “You travellin’ alone, Miss?”
“I don’t see why that's any of your business, Mr…?” You trail off, fingers flexing as you force yourself to loosen the grip on your skirts.
“Mr. Clark. Benjamin Clark.”
A false name. Clever.
“Right.”
He chuckles with a shake of his head, tapping the bar for a drink to be sent his way. Exhaustion seems to embody his very being; fatigue hangs from his bones like his own flesh and muscle. He doesn’t seem to notice your analysing stare; his focus is instead drawn to wiping off the splatter of blood that had been spat in his face at some point during the commotion.
“Look, Miss…?” He begins with a sigh, finally looking you in the eye.
“Nellie Chase.” You lie through your teeth, watching him through your eyelashes. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he looks down at you.
“Look, Miss Chase. I don’t know yer circumstances, but it ain’t safe for a lady such as yerself to be travellin’ alone, especially in these parts. I imagine you was just passin’ through like the rest of us, then got stuck ‘cause of all that rain. But, with men and women of all sorts all trapped up together like this… well, it’s bound to cause trouble. You’d be better to stay locked up in your rooms, Miss; it would be safer than roughin’ it out with this lot.”
You hold back a scoff and instead opt to lift your chin. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth as you take a step closer to the outlaw, eyebrows raised and head cocked to one side. “Well, thank you for your wisdom, Mr. Clark, but I am perfectly capable of handlin’ myself.”
A glass of whiskey was now in his hand, and you coolly slid over a coin to pay for it before he could. He blinks at you in surprise, and you flash him a grin in response. With narrowed eyes, he swallows back half of the amber liquid.
“I imagine so.” He lets out gruffly. “Where are ya’ headed?”
“Saguaro Basin.”
“Saguaro Basin? Wha’chu doin’ headed that way? Last I heard, there was some bad business in those parts. Cholera and all that.”
“I’m goin’ to be married.” You make a point of flashing the ring on your finger, which is met with a half-interested grunt. He didn’t seem to question how garish it was or how the metal did not match the earrings dangling from either side of your head. Though you imagined, you could not expect a man to notice such details as a woman might.
“Yer gettin’ married and yer husband-to-be ain’t even got the time to come get’chu himself?”
“Well, I imagine he is quite busy workin’, and it is such a long distance to get there and back. So he paid for me to take the coach, as it is supposed to be safer—” You cut yourself off with a frown as you notice his eyebrows raise. You clear your throat as you decide to shift the topic. “So, where are you headed then, Mr. Clark?”
“Same as you. West. Bit further, though maybe more Marielle ways.”
“Marielle… that’s…?” You trail off. You knew exactly where Marielle was, nestled deep into the western deserts and canyons. Once, it was the home of outlaws, whores, and rustlers. These days, it had been transformed into some sort of respectable town with the help of the law and the church. In fact, it seemed the now bustling town had grown in size from it’s humble beginnings and was becoming a hotspot of trade and business in the deep west. You’d heard mention of the fearsome prison that had been erected not two years ago, where prisoners were subject to hard labour while awaiting their sentencing.
“Long past Saguaro Basin, that’s for sure.”
“Right.”
You were met with silence, but continue to pry. Would he spin a grand, elaborate tale just as you had done yourself? Or would he tell the truth—a raw, bitter confession of guilt to just another pretty, misplaced lady stuck in Crimson Junction? This was all rather exciting.
“What brings you there? Business, pleasure… family?”
“Business.”
“What kind?” You dare to push further.
“Not the type’a business a lady such as yerself would be interested in.”
“How so?” You seem to be out of luck; as the outlaws patience had grown thin. You could practically hear the tension snap as he let out a low ‘hmph’, reluctant to answer the question. Your fingers dance across the sticky bar as you ponder if you should push your questions further, but Barnes had other plans. Taking a long swig from his glass, he finishes the last of his whiskey and gets to his feet.
“Well, Miss Chase, I thank you for the drink but I must be goin’ now. And you should get back to yer rooms and keep outta’ trouble now.”
The outlaw did not stay long enough to hear your farewell, preferring to slink wordlessly out of the building. With a smile, you lean against the bar, motioning for the barkeep to get you another drink.
Fate had led you to Crimson Junction for a reason, and how gratifying it was to know why.
PART TWO
#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x female reader#james buchanan barnes#marvel fic#marvel#marvel au#western au#cowboy au#a dish served cold
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Restless ‘Til We Reach Home
Anywhere I’d Follow You (ch. 1)
AN: happy underworld saga release day! Literally the day we’ve all been waiting for! This fic is my pride & joy rn so I hope y’all like it! Be sure to buckle in cause you’re in for one hell of a ride! The underworld saga is literally everything I could’ve imagined & more, & it makes this chapter hit so much harder. & I wouldn’t have it any other way 💗
Edit: omg I can’t believe I forgot to add the ghost!polites playlist that I so lovingly created! My sincere apologies to anyone who read it without the intended listening experience
Ch. 2 Ch. 3
Polites woke alone in the darkness. Or at least, he thought he was alone, until he felt a body shift next to him. The sky above was an inky black, completely devoid of stars. It didn't feel right.
He jolted upright, the ground underneath him rocking with his movement. No, it wasn't the ground, it was wood. He was on a small boat, and the bodies around him were his fellow soldiers. Most still remained unconscious.
"Odysseus!" he called out, but received no answer. "Eurylochus!" His voice echoed down the approaching canyon, bouncing back until it met his ears.
"Shhhh," a husky voice sounded from above. Polites startled and looked up, seeing a cloaked man standing at the back of the boat. His face was concealed by the hood pulled over its head, the only discernible feature being two bony hands peeking out from his sleeves. They clutched onto an oar, thrusting the boat further on its journey.
Polites crawled to the edge of the boat and leaned out, and he was greeted by perhaps the most beautiful sight. They were floating on a glowing river, the water a brilliant blue green. It was as he was staring into the ethereal water that he realized why the sky had no stars: they'd all fallen in the river.
The awestruck smile fell flat when he took a good look at his surroundings.
Everywhere he looked was gray and rocky and completely devoid of life. He heard people moaning in the distance and could see them trudging along in mindless huddles. Small fights broke out amongst them, and Polites could see fires burn in the distance.
He had to be dreaming, he was sure of it! He pinched his arm as hard as he could until he yelped from the pain. When he didn't wake up, he reached his hands into the water, splashing his face repeatedly.
"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up, wake up!" he yelled each time the cool water hit his skin. His vision blurred as the water dripped down his face and his eyes filled with tears. His shoulders shook as he sobbed, leaning over the edge of the boat. He could feel when they hit the shore, but he didn't budge, even as everyone else filed out.
The ripples around the boat began to calm, and soon enough the surface of the water was as smooth as glass. His eyes met his reflection and he jerked back, rocking the boat slightly. Hesitantly, he leaned back over the glowing water to get a closer look. Ripples sent minor shockwaves through his reflection, slowing until it showed a clear picture.
A choked gasp escaped his throat as he clamped a hand over his mouth. He looked up at the ferryman, who nodded solemnly. The tears he'd been holding back finally rolled down past his cheeks.
His head hung low as he cried, and he could feel each tear drip from his nose or chin. When he opened his eyes again, he saw tiny dots of red on his toga. Hesitantly, he reached up to wipe the tears from his face. When he pulled away, his hands were stained red.
He thrusted his hands in the water, scrubbing furiously to rid them of the blood. The stream before him turned a pale pink before the current carried it away.
Polites knew exactly where he was.
At first he tried to lay low, but he had always been outgoing and friendly, even to those who weren't so friendly back. But it quickly became clear that down here, no one wanted to talk to him. Or so it would seem.
Polites got into the habit of exploring the underworld every day. There was nothing to do but wander aimlessly or work, and Polites much preferred the former. It was while on one of these walks that he spotted a young woman kneeling by the riverbank. At first he thought nothing of it, but the closer he got, he could hear her quiet sobs and sniffles.
He approached cautiously, waving when he felt he was close enough to warrant a greeting. "Well hello there!" he said in a chipper voice, offering a shy grin. She looked up at the stranger before her, yelping and falling back onto her hands. He was quick to put her at ease.
"Hey hey, it's okay! I'm nice, I was just crushed by a cyclops," he explained his appearance, aiming for humor. The girl's lips twitched in a fleeting smile.
"Oh! Um, I'm sorry..." she apologized, and he waved a hand dismissively.
"Why? You have something to do with it?" he joked, smiling when she giggled, shaking her head.
"Noho..."
"Then you have nothing to apologize for!" He turned to her, holding his hand out to her. "I'm Polites." She studied him, chewing her lip before she accepted it.
"Eurydice."
"Ah, what a lovely name for a lovely woman," he complimented. Her smile was tainted with sadness. "I'm sorry, are you alright?" he asked gently. She shook her head, plastering on a fake smile.
"I'm in Hades, why wouldn't I be fine?" she tried to joke like he'd done moments before, but it fell flat.
"You know, if you need to get something off your chest, I'm all ears. I was practically the sole shoulder to cry on for 600 men." His tone made it impossible for Eurydice to discern whether or not he was being serious. Finally, she decided, "Yeah right."
"No really! Well, obviously not all of them took me up on my offer, but I'm a great listener," he offered with a warm, genuine smile. She let out an amused huff.
"I know it sounds stupid, but... I really thought I was gonna bust outta here." Polites placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"I don't think it's stupid at all. I mean, we all want out-"
"No, you don't get it!" she spun around to face him, tears in her eyes. Polites held his hands up in surrender on reflex, his entire body tense. Eurydice heaved a sigh, burying her face in her hands. "I was so close..."
Polites was almost afraid to ask, but, "C-close to what?"
Eurydice looked up with wide, tearful eyes as she stared longingly out into the distance. She spoke breathily as her mind began to wander, "Freedom."
Polites couldn't believe what he was hearing. He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Wait, you mean you were trying to leave? How?" he asked desperately, the wounds on his face and body starting to bleed.
"I wasn't on my own. Orpheus came for me."
"Orpheus?" he questioned.
"I died on our wedding day..." she answered, trailing off as she stared at the ground. "And he risked everything to come save me. We could've made it out and we'd both be happy. Start a family..." she took a grounding breath, drying her eyes. "I never did get to hear how his song turned out."
Polites perked up slightly. "Oh, he's a musician?" he asked. She smiled as she remembered her love.
"Mhm. Said he was gonna write a song to fix what's wrong with the world," she said, amusement clear in her tone. "Guess he hasn't finished it yet."
"Well, sounds like he's got his work cut out for him. I can't imagine it'll be easy for him, without you," he said softly. A sob caught in Eurydice's throat as she looked away, closing her eyes softly.
"Don't. Please."
"Sorry," he immediately apologized, feeling rather guilty.
"It's fine. It's not like it's your fault or anything."
Polites looked at her, mouth slightly agape as he tried to decipher whether she was teasing him as he'd done earlier, or if it was sheer coincidence. The subtle twitch of her lips was all he needed to know. He barked out a laugh, bumping their shoulders together.
"Well would you look at that! Looks like someone's getting their sense of humor back!" he praised, making her roll her eyes.
"Never left," she lied. Her gaze locked on the Palace of Hades, and Polites followed her line of sight.
"He had something to do with it, didn't he?"
Eurydice took a shaky breath and nodded. "Yeah."
"They usually do. Even when you don't think so... They do."
~~~
Life in Hades is not what Polites expected.
For one, he didn't know where the crumbling rubble ended and the new scaffolding began. Every day it seemed, the underworld would change ever so slightly. Buildings and complex machinery were all being built before his very eyes. It was nothing like Polites had ever seen.
Slowly, copper and iron replaced stonework as buildings all but erected themselves, and horseless chariots carted material to various work sites. The grand palace in the center of the underworld has all but doubled in size in the short time he's been here. And jutting out from the southern east corner, stood an imposing factory spitting black smoke. It felt... wrong. Almost as if Hades had tried to tuck it away out of sight, only for his greed to force it to grow until the rocks could conceal it no longer.
He said he was doing this for them; that he was creating a greater home for their eternity. So then, why was he turning the air thick with smog? Why must the tortured souls carry the burden of his progress?
Nothing was right anymore. Then again, nothing had been right for a long time.
~~~
Polites never thought he'd grow used to the underworld, but with Eurydice, he found a flow. They steered clear of the mindless work convoys, with their bowl shaped helmets and tools in hand. They marched along packed gravel roads in uniform lines, singing in a low, menacing chant.
They didn't stray far from the riverbanks, and when they did, chose to walk through rolling fields of nothing but dead grass and dirt. They found solace in the few crumbling ruins that have yet to undergo renovations.
Shriveled vines choked out the grand archway the pair sat under, but not even the resilience of nature could last under a God's iron grip. Polites closed his eyes, trying to picture the lush foliage that swallowed the rubble of a once ancient building. When he opened his eyes, he was met with the disappointing reality of thick, dry vines sprawling over crumbling stone as if caught in a wooden spiderweb.
"You ever made a flower crown?"
The question came out of nowhere, catching him off guard. If asked, he would deny the way he had jumped at the sound of her voice.
"Um, n-no, I can't say I have."
When Polites didn't elaborate, Eurydice continued. "My sisters and I used to pick flowers in the meadow behind our house and we'd spend hours weaving crowns and necklaces while we talked." She smiled at the fond, distant memory. Polites smiled back.
"That sounds really lovely," he assured. He saw the longing in her eyes, could feel the ache in her heart. If only he could ease that pain...
"It was. I think you'd really like it. Heh, too bad I can't teach you."
"Yeah, that's too bad," he lamented in agreement before an idea struck him. "Or, you know... we could still try," he suggested, holding up a handful of dry vines and twigs. Eurydice's face lit up with a smile as bright as the sun.
"Really? You mean that?"
"Well, I mean, I'm sure yours turned out much better than whatever we can make down here, but-" his rambling was cut off when Eurydice slammed into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck in a grateful hug.
~~~
Polites had lost track of how long he'd been there, though he was grateful for Eurydice's company. It was the single source of comfort since he'd awoken in the underworld, the one reminder that there was once a time when things were good.
They would walk along the riverbanks, sharing stories from their lives. Eurydice once said that Orpheus would've liked Polites, and he swelled with pride. The feeling would've been mutual, he assured.
He can't help but to picture his friends meeting this lively young spirit, ripped from the Earth too soon. He thinks they'd like her too.
There were no days and nights here; everything ran together in one big screaming haze. At times, Polites thought they were the only souls down here who weren't screaming...
He missed being alive. He missed his friends, missed the way the sun warmed his skin, the way the sea would taste on the air, the way the wind would whip through his hair. He missed food, and feeling hungry, or tired. He missed the way he could feel his heart race in his chest when Odysseus would put himself in harms way, only to come out unscathed.
He always came out unscathed, no matter the challenge.
He was walking alone, trying to clear his head when he heard his name being called. "Polites! Polites!"
He turned to see Eurydice running towards him, feet pounding against the rocky shore. He met her halfway, picking up on her sense of urgency.
"Eurydice! Is everything alri-"
"There's a ship," she rushed out breathlessly. His eyes went wide and he scanned the horizon.
"Of course, the ferryman brings people-"
"No, I mean a real, living ship!" she emphasized with a playful punch to his shoulder. He smirked down at her, bumping their hips together.
"You know ships aren't really alive," he teased, tilting his head back to laugh at his own joke. She rolled her eyes, snatching the bandana from around his head. His hands flew up a second too late as he turned to face her. "Hey!"
She giggled, waving the bandana out of reach. "I'm being serious!" she insisted through a smile. He snorted, snatching the cloth from her grasp playfully.
"Yeah, that's why you stole my bandana," he taunted, shooting her a grin.
"You weren't listening! Just look!" she pointed in the distance. Polites looked up to humor her and gasped when he saw a large ship creeping up the river. It was much closer to them now. He took a step away from the bank.
Eurydice smirked, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "You believe me now?" He nodded wordlessly, mouth gaping open in shock.
They stood like that, just frozen in awe watching it get closer. The figures aboard the ship were now visible, and Polites shaded his eyes, squinting up at the deck. Did he really see what he thought he saw? Was that really...
"Steady as she goes men!" A figure paced around the deck, barking orders and securing the ship. Polites would know that voice anywhere.
"Odysseus?" he asked, barely aware he said the name aloud. Eurydice gasped and snapped her head to look at him.
"Odysseus? Like, like your Odysseus?" she asked frantically. Polites looked back at the ship for some other kind of proof, spotting Eurylochus at the wheel.
"Yes, I'm sure. Look, there's Eurylochus," he said, pointing at his friend.
She turned to him with an expression on her face that he hadn't seen since the day they first met.
"You have to go."
His head snapped down to look at her, "What?"
"They came here looking for you! I mean, why else would they come all the way here?" she asked, clutching to the fabric of his toga. "You're important to them, Polites. You're the missing piece, they need you," she pleaded.
The ship was right in front of them now, Odysseus clutching the rail of the ship with a horrified look. When his eyes landed on Polites, he froze, all the color quickly draining from his face. He turned away abruptly.
"I-I don't know Eurydice. That doesn't really seem like- I'm sure there's gotta be another reason!" He wasn't sure why or how they were here, but he had a hard time believing it would be for him. It would hurt too much, getting his hopes up like that.
"A reason to go through the underworld?" she asked incredulously. Her expression softened, and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "They've missed you."
A sob caught in his throat. "Yeah, I miss them too."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
He turned to her, tears in his eyes. "B-but what about you? You can't come, and I can't leave you!" he said, gripping onto her hands for dear life. "Y-you'd be alone again, I can't do that!"
"Shh, hey, hey, look at me," she said in a soothing voice, but Polites could see the tears shining in her eyes. "Don't think of it like that, okay? You're doing this for me." She squeezed his hands so hard, her knuckles were turning white. Funny, how even their spirits react like they still have blood.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, but a soft hand cupping his face brought him back to reality. "Hades only made sure I couldn't get out, just to spite our love. He won't notice if you escape, I promise," she reassured. He placed a hand atop hers, still shaking his head.
"You can't promise that-"
"Maybe, but I can try. Please Polites," she was practically begging at this point. "One of us has to see the sun again."
A sob shuttered through his body and he surged forward, grabbing her in a tight hug- their last hug. Maybe the last hug he'd ever be able to actually feel.
"I don't want to leave you," he muttered into her hair. He could feel her tears begin to fall down his arm like raindrops.
"Me either, but you have to. It's your only chance." She held on for a few more seconds before allowing herself to slip away.
"Goodbye Eurydice. Thank you for... everything."
"Farewell Polites. I know you'll keep them safe."
He nodded to her before turning towards the ship, marching along the shore. He got about halfway before her sweet voice called out to him.
"Polites, wait!" He stopped in his tracks, turning just in time to catch her in his arms. Her hands carded through thick black hair as she squeezed him tight. She kissed his cheek, pulling away to whisper in his ear, "If you ever come across Orpheus, please tell him I'm okay."
"Of course. You have my word," he promised.
When Eurydice pulled away, a small amount of blood was smeared on her lips and cheek. Polites decided not to dwell on what that meant.
~~~
Polites jogged along the riverbank until he caught back up with the ship. He waded into the water, trying to figure out how to get back on the ship. He saw a rope nearby and grabbed ahold, climbing up. The rope swayed with the ship as if it were weightless, making it more difficult to ascend.
The rope slapped against the side of the ship, sending Polites hurling through the hull of the ship and into the lower deck. His body tumbled and hit a few crates, causing them to come crashing down.
"Oh no no no!" he muttered, trying to restack them, only for his hands to phase right through.
On the deck above, Odysseus heard the commotion and ordered one of his men to investigate as he continued to warn the others to stay on guard.
He trudged below deck, not expecting what awaited him.
Polites yelped when he heard a clatter behind him, turning to see one of the soldiers standing in the doorway, his sword laying on the ground before him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the man turned on his heels and scrambled up the stairs.
"Captain!"
Odysseus immediately ran to the soldier's aid, hand on the hilt of his sword. "What was it?"
"I-it was Polites, Sir..."
The captain bristled at the name, turning his back on the man.
"Impossible."
"But I'm telling you, he was right there!"
Odysseus sighed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Listen to me, brother. This place is not to be trusted, okay? Nothing that you see or hear is to be trusted. Those were Circe's words. Got that?"
The man nodded, though he was clearly still shaken up. Odysseus sighed once more.
"Come on. Why don't you show me where he was," he said, deciding it might be a good idea to help put both their minds at ease.
Odysseus crept down the stairs carefully, eyes scanning the shadows for any intruders.
"Hello? Anyone down here?" He was met with silence. He didn't know how tense he was until his fears were put at ease. It was empty.
"The boxes must've fallen on their own, it's been a little bumpy. Let's go," he ordered, picking up the discarded sword and holding it out for the man to take.
Meanwhile, Polites was crouched behind a barrel on the upper deck, watching what few soldiers remained. They all looked so different, but none more than Odysseus. He watched as his friend marched up the stairs to resume his task of guiding the ship.
But... his directions didn't sound right. The way Odysseus was leading them would pass by two guardians, and more would surely die. Odysseus didn't know his way around here like he did, to no fault of his own. But Polites couldn't let that happen.
He made sure no one was looking when he crept from his hiding spot.
He stood behind Eurylochus, hesitant to speak. But the fork in the river was approaching.
"Actually, you're gonna wanna take a right," he said from behind. Eurylochus jumped at the unexpected voice, turning to face him. His face morphed in terror as he saw the man before him.
"CAPTA-mmm!"
"Shhh!" Polites shushed, slapping a hand over his friend's mouth. Eurylochus tried to shove him away, only for his hands to phase through his attacker's arm. His eyes were wide with fear as he fumbled for his sword, still trying to steer the ship through the narrow waterway. "It's me! You have to trust me!"
"I don't think so."
Polites turned to see the tip of a sword pointed at him, the eyes of Odysseus staring him down with a vengeance.
"Captain, I-"
"SHUT UP!" he yelled, taking a step closer. Polites let go of Eurylochus, shying away behind him. "Now who are you really?" he all but growled.
Polites furrowed his brow in confusion. "Do... do you not recognize me?" he asked weakly. Odysseus let out a low, sadistic chuckle, and it was hard to believe this was his beloved friend.
"Ohoho I know who you want us to think it is! But we've been through enough, I know a trap when I see one. So I'm only asking one more time." He pressed the blade to where his throat would be. "Who. Are. You."
"Odysseus, it really is me! W-why don't you believe me?" he asked helplessly, realizing his sword wasn't the only one trained towards him.
"Why should I?"
"B-because I'm trying to help you!" he insisted. There was a long stretch of silence before Odysseus answered.
"I don't believe you."
Odysseus reared back, preparing to strike. Polites panicked, he didn't know where else to go, where to hide. On instinct he clutched onto Eurylochus for protection.
He opened his eyes, and Eurylochus was gone. No, that wasn't right... he could still hear him. He sounded... scared.
"Captain... help me," his hand raised on its own towards Odysseus. No, that wasn't his hand...
The soldiers had cowered back when Polites disappeared; they were all clearly on edge.
"Eurylochus?" Odysseus asked carefully.
"He's here."
Polites had to speak up, he had to make them listen.
"Please, I'm just trying to help." He spoke with a double voice. "I know a better way. Please... you have to trust me. I'm- I'm not a god, or whatever you think I am," he pleaded. "I'm me."
Odysseus glared at him, lips curled in a sneer. A tense silence fell over them as the seconds ticked by.
"Fine." He stepped back and lowered his sword. "As you were." When no one moved, he repeated himself in a harsher tone. "As you were!" They immediately broke up and returned to their posts, keeping an eye on their new passenger.
"Are... you gonna stand there the whole time?" he asked carefully.
"Yup," Odysseus answered, popping the p. "Are you gonna hide the whole time?" he countered.
Polites took a breath to ground himself. By the Gods, it felt good to breathe again... But this wasn't his body. These weren't his lungs…
"That depends. Are you gonna pull your sword on me again?" he asked.
"Only if you try anything." That was as good an answer as any, he supposed. Polites sighed, stepping out of his friend's body.
Eurylochus gasped as he regained full control of his limbs. He lurched forward, using the steering wheel for support. He glared at the spectral intruder.
"What did you do to me?" he demanded. Polites held his hands up in surrender. "I-I don't know! I was scared, I panicked!"
Eurylochus glared down at him, getting in his personal space to get his point across. "Don't do it again." A gentle hand on his shoulder snapped him out of it.
"Eurylochus, why not get some rest? Feel free to use my quarters," Odysseus offered. Eurylochus nodded in thanks, but not once did he take his eyes off Polites.
Odysseus was steering now, his mind elsewhere as he thought of what the prophet Tiresias had foretold.
"There is a world where I help you get home, but that's not a world I know..."
"You're gonna want to hang left, there's some larger rocks.
"I see a man who gets to make it home alive, but it's no longer you."
"Captain?"
Odysseus didn't like who he was becoming, but each challenged left him more broken than the last, and the mosaic he was creating of himself was more of an abomination.
"Captain watch out!"
Odysseus shook himself out of it, cutting the wheel to avoid the boulders. Polites watched him carefully, waiting for his friend to thank him and smile like he used to.
That moment never came.
Polites crossed his arms and huffed, "You're welcome."
Odysseus clenched his jaw. The imposter's tone was light and teasing, and so much like the friend he knew. But the underworld was nothing but lies and deceit, danger lurking around every corner. He was sure the man before him was nothing more than a farce.
"Just stop pretending," he sighed in defeat.
"Come again?" Polites asked, cocking his head. Odysseus tensed at the disgusting cracking sound the movement made.
"Nothing. Just- no more talking until we're safe."
We. Polites smiled as he stood next to his friend, just like old times. It never occurred to him that he wasn't meant to be included in that statement.
"Okay Captain."
Polites remained by his side, offering directions whenever they're needed. He doesn't dare speak beyond that, knowing how testy his friend can be when he's trying to focus. Not to mention he seemed like he was in a bad mood to begin with.
He had no idea.
"Alright, it shouldn't be much farther. Just go straight through there," Polites guided, pointing towards a cave on the horizon. The smallest amount of sunlight shimmered through.
"Everyone! Full speed ahead!" Odysseus yelled across the ship, men scurrying about the deck.
Odysseus kept his eyes trained on their destination as he spoke. "Thank you... You can go now."
"Oh! Right, you're- you're busy. We can talk later," Polites said, backing away. "I should probably go apologize to Eurylochus." He turned to make his leave, but Odysseus stood guarding his path.
"Stay away from him," he threatened, face shrouded by long, matted hair and hidden behind a thick beard. His once warm gaze turned black as he trained his weapon at Polites for a second time.
If he were still alive, his heart would be pounding right out of his chest.
"Odysseus? You're scaring me," Polites said, looking him up and down.
"AND YOU'RE SCARING EVERYONE!" he screamed, surging forward. Polites is taller than him, even when he's not floating, but Odysseus's presence towers over him.
"Wha-what?" he breathed out, backing himself against the rail. Odysseus kept him trapped there for a few more seconds before turning away. Polites spared a glance and saw every pair of eyes resting solely on him, hushed whispers floating about as hands hovered over their own weapons. He looked back at his captain with wide, fearful eyes.
"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to..."
Odysseus ignored him, not so much as a glance his way. And that hurt.
"Odysseus?"
"Don't call me that," he snarled, finally looking over his shoulder. Polites couldn't help but snicker.
"Don't call you by your name? Okay, Captain," he teased, hoping to catch a glimpse of that brilliant smile.
"Knock it off! You're not as funny as you think you are," Odysseus snapped, making him pout.
"Ouch. You know, my new friend Eurydice thought I was hilarious. She-"
"I don't care."
Polites felt his phantom heart sink at those words. Odysseus had never spoken to him like that before...
"Oh. O-okay. I'll just, um, I'll go."
"Good riddance."
Polites tried to stifle the hurt gasp he let out, biting his quivering lip. He just wanted to disappear. He didn't want to be here, but he didn't know where to go. After a moment, Odysseus chanced a glance over his shoulder and heaved a sigh of relief.
"Finally. Thought he'd never leave." Polites felt tears well in his eyes despite his confusion. He was still here, what did he mean? He reached a hand up to rub his tired face, only to freeze. He couldn't see himself. To test his theory, he raced down to the middle of the deck and stood there, but no one paid him any mind. He got his wish. They got their wish.
He disappeared.
Polites felt himself sink through the floorboards, but didn't care enough to stop it before he plopped down below deck. He landed flat on his back, not bothering to get up. What would even be the point?
Finally, he sat up before drifting into a standing position.
~~~
Eurylochus couldn't sleep. How the hell did Odysseus expect him to rest after all that? His mind was reeling, and in all honesty, he was completely and utterly confused.
Trust nothing in the underworld.
Circe's instructions. More importantly, Captain's instructions. Up until now, he thought that was to be believed. Everything down here was a wicked and cruel trick. And yet, this vision of Polites had seemed so real. More than that, it felt real. He had no idea what it did to him, but in the moments he was possessed, he knew what it was thinking: what it was feeling. And it was scared, hurt and confused: like a wild animal backed into a corner. But nowhere could he feel any kind of ill will towards any of them. And that scared Eurylochus just as much as it perplexed him.
He gave up on sleep and decided to go back to the upper deck. He navigated the narrow halls and froze in his tracks when he came upon the transparent image of his fallen friend.
"Eurylochus!" Polites startled, standing up a little straighter when he noticed him.
Said man recoiled as he was addressed, and watched him with a careful eye, his hand hovering over his weapon.
"Please don't," he said, cowering back towards the shadows. "I just want to apologize for earlier. I-I didn't mean to do... that."
He was met with nothing but silence.
"Eurylochus? Say something," he pleaded. He noticed the way Eurylochus stared at the ground instead of him.
"You're not really him, are you?" he asked skeptically. Pilotes felt his shoulders sag in defeat.
"You too?"
Eurylochus dared to meet his gaze. The expression he wore was that of skepticism and a hope long lost.
"I'm not convinced yet." As he walked past, he paused at Polites's side. "So convince me."
His words caused a smile to break out across his face as he turned to his friend. Eurylochus looked shocked before his expression melted into something softer.
"That's a start, I guess." He abruptly continued on his way, not wanting to linger with their friend's spirit. Polites was left alone in the dark, his thoughts serving as his only company.
He didn't emerge from the lower deck until he was sure they were well out of the underworld.
#restless til we reach home#epic the underworld saga#epic the musical#epic musical#underworld saga#ghost!polites#polites#eurydice#odysseus#eurylochus#the odyssey#odyssey fic#epic fic#hadestown#hadestown fic
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chapter twenty-seven | the dam thing
percy jackson x fem reader
Sadness was very, very tiring.
Your skin burned with the heat of the sun beating through the truck window, sitting with your knees to your chest. Percy and Grover had chosen to sit in the tow wench part of the stolen truck Thalia drove, while you sat up front with Zoe and Thalia.
You couldn’t take your eyes off the junkyard as Thalia drove, watching it get further and further away. She didn’t seem as bothered as you or Percy, or even Grover, like the death of Bianca hadn’t affected her even a little bit.
The boys’ voices flowed through the back and into the front, mumbling that you were unable to understand. You looked down at your hands; the tiny figurine that cost Bianca her life lay in your palms. Ironically, the one Nico didn’t have was Hades, the god of death. The dark hair, and the stony face he wore gave away which god he was.
Something settled on your chest. What were you supposed to say to Nico? What were you going to tell Chiron when you went back to camp? You’d made a plan—an awful one—that sent Bianca straight to her death. They’d hate you. Everyone would hate you.
In the back of your mind, you thought maybe it wasn’t your fault. Yes, you had the idea, but it was an idea you’d been intending to put to use yourself. You hadn’t forced Bianca to carry it out. You hadn’t even told her to go ahead with it. In retrospect, it hadn’t been your fault.
But you carried the guilt anyway.
Annabeth was right, Maybe you were claimed by the wrong goddess. You certainly weren’t smart by any means if you’d gotten a friend killed. And it wasn’t the first time you’d put Bianca in danger—your stunt at Westover had nearly sent you all plummeting to your deaths off the edge of a cliff.
“You think too hard,” said Zoe beside you.
You looked up. She was pale in the face, and looking out at the road ahead. “What?”
“It was not your fault. Do not think it was.”
Thalia glanced over. You swallowed hard, throat closing up.
“But it was,” you objected. “I had the plan. I was going to do what Bianca did. If anyone should be dead, it should be me.”
Zoe looked completely outraged. “Don’t say that. What happened to Bianca is terrible, but that does not mean you should have taken her place. It is as the prophecy decided. We could not control her actions or her decisions.”
That doesn’t make it any better, you thought.
The truck ran out of gas just as you approached a dead-end street, much to Thalia’s irritation. You all jumped out, Thalia slamming the door shut. One of the tyres burst immediately and began letting air out.
“Great,” she said. “What now?”
There wasn’t much to see or say about the area. Desert in every direction, barren mountains everywhere. The canyon in the distance was the only interesting thing, and a small river flowing down the middle.
“There’s a path,” Grover said. “We could get to the river.”
You squinted in the light. Very faintly you made out the outline of a small path winding down the cliff side.
“That’s a goat path,” said Percy.
Grover turned to him. “So?”
“So the rest of aren’t goats.”
“We can make it,” goat-boy assured. “I’m sure of it.”
A beat of silence caused you to look at Percy. He looked worn out, and a little tired, but determined. “No,” he said. “We’ll go farther upstream.”
“But—” Grover frowned.
“Come on, a walk won’t hurt us.” He looked at Thalia, and she held his stare for a second. You looked between them both; what was that about?
You shook it off, and let the others go up ahead. The quiet might do you some good, you felt—it gave you time to think things through.
Percy didn’t feel the same, clearly.
He looked back at you, slowing until he was at the back with you. You spared him a glance, focusing on the hills ahead of you. Not too far now.
“You okay?” He asked quietly.
You hummed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Percy shrugged his shoulders briefly. “I don’t know. You’re just quiet.”
“I’m tired, Percy,” you sighed. “I want to go home, now.”
You turned your head, to find him already looking at you. The blood rushed to your face, and you looked away. But…you couldn’t not look at Percy for too long. So you glanced back. Those bright green eyes flickered across your face and eyes, and you paid attention to the way his hair was a little sweaty and more tamed than it usually would be.
“I was thinking,” he said. “Did you want to stay over this summer? At my place? My mom wants to meet you. And it would be fun. We could get, like, takeout and stuff.”
You blinked. A little bit of sunshine made a hole in the dark, and your mouth quirked. “Sure, it’d be fun.” Was all you could think to say.
Percy’s expression faltered an inch, barely noticeable if you hadn’t grown used to the emotions he wore on his sleeve. He nodded once, and his smile was tight.
You wanted to invite Percy over to your place in return. You imagined running down the beaches with him, entirely in his element, and showing him a cove you had discovered one day, the path memorised. But you had left things unsettled at home, and the very thought of going back was too much at the moment, anxiousness spiking your veins.
The rest of the walk, you trained your eyes on the ground, following the river’s dips and splashes. It made the walk go by faster, and when you looked up, almost walking into Thalia. You were about to voice your question, when you sets your sights on the locked-up cabin with a canoe sale sign up outside the front shutters. The ground gently sloped, and the water ran more fiercely along.
Percy turned to you. In the middle of the desert, his eyes shone like stars. “You got a pen and paper?”
Of course you did.
Percy left a stack of drachmas on the countertop outside, and a ragged note beneath them: I O U 3 canoes.
“We need to go upstream,” Zoe said. She sounded like she was suffering from a terrible cold. “The rapids are too swift.”
“Leave that to me,” Percy decided. Nobody questioned him.
You quickly discussed who had which canoe—Percy and Zoe (you’d nearly argued over that one), Thalia and yourself, and Grover in his own.
Once, you never would have had a clue about canoes or rapids or how to get into one without tipping over. But camp had prepared you well, and there wasn’t much fuss getting in them. You held the canoe to the shore with the ore and…was something moving under it?
“Hey, Percy,” you turned your head, looking to him. But he spoke quietly with Zoe, so you left it.
You all got ready (and by ready, you meant, you argued with Thalia for the front seat, and won).
You found you weren’t actually going stir-crazy.
The canoes were pushed forward so forcefully you almost fell out of it, actually laughing when all you could see of Grover were his hooves in the air. When you recovered, you took a peek over the edge and into the water, looking past your reflection: naiads.
You knew what it was before you even saw it fully. After a while, the large monument before you came into view.
“Hoover Dam,” you voiced. “Built in the 1930’s.”
“It’s huge,” Thalia awed.
The naiads stopped pushing, and everyone climbed out onto the river’s edge. When the naiads swam away, the canoes gently floated back downstream, pushed by the current.
You stood together, looking up.
“Seven hundred feet tall,” Percy commented.
“Five million cubic acres of water,” Thalia hummed.
“Largest construction project in the United States,” Grover sighed.
Zoe looked at you all like you were crazy. “How do you know all that?”
“Annabeth,” Grover tilted his head.
“She was crazy over architecture. Gods, try getting some sleep in the same cabin as her.”
“Spouted facts all the time,” Thalia said. “Annoying as hell.”
“I wish she were here,” Percy said.
You didn’t have it in you to be annoyed. Because you felt the same way. In a sense, it felt like a mean joke from the world—you’d stopped in one of Annabeth’s dream locations, and she wasn’t able to see it.
“We should go up there.” Percy said. “For her sake. Just to say we’ve been.”
“We don’t have a great track record with heights.”
Percy just grinned.
“You are mad,” said Zoe. “But that is where the road is. And so, sightseeing it is.”
—
“It’s cold,” you sang. “It’s cold and windy and why are we just standing here?” You pivoted to Zoe, flaying your hands. You side-eyed Grover; he sniffed the air, shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, clearly monsters are coming.”
“How close are they?” Percy asked.
Grover shook his curly head. “Maybe not close…the wind from the dam, and the desert all around…scent could probably travel for miles. But it’s coming from almost everywhere. I don’t like it.”
“There’s a snack bar in the visitor centre,” said Thalia.
Percy’s eyebrows knit together. “You’ve come here before?”
“Once, to see the guardians,” she pointed across the dam, where carved into the cliff were two big statues. In the back of your mind, something felt familiar, maybe something you’d learned in school. “They were dedicated to Zeus when the dam was built; a gift from Athena.”
Tourists were clustered around the statues, seemingly looking at…their feet?
“What are they doing?” You asked.
“Rubbing the toes.”
You gagged.
“They think it brings good luck,” Thalia said.
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Mortals get crazy ideas. They don’t know the statues are sacred to Zeus, but they know there’s something special about them.”
Percy hummed. “When you were here last, did they talk to you or anything?”
Thalia’s expression darkened. “No. They don’t do anything. They’re just statues.”
Just statues brought a hot flame to your heart. Once again, you were reminded of Bianca. How you wished that one had been just a statue.
“Let us find the dam snack bar,” Zoe interrupted your saddening thoughts. You raised your head, blinking away the cloud cover.
Grover cracked a smile. “The dam snack bar?”
Zoe blinked innocently. “Yes. What is so funny?”
“Nothing,” he tried to keep a straight face. “I could use some dam French fries.”
Even Thalia smiled. “I could use the dam restroom.”
Percy snickered. And you broke, showing a smile. Eye contact with Grover proved to be a bad idea—you both broke out laughing.
Zoe just looked between everyone. “I do not understand.”
“I want to use the dam water fountain,” you wiped your eyes, still laughing.
“And,” Thalia tried catching her breath. “I want to…buy a dam t-shirt.”
Percy burst out laughing, setting you off. Zoe was not amused; her face was stoic, if not a little annoyed. You opened your mouth to make a joke, and then—
“Did anyone else just hear a cow?” Percy had stopped laughing.
You snickered, finding humour in the weird situation.
“A dam cow?” Thalia laughed.
“No,” said Grover, seriously. “I heard it too.”
Zoe listened. “I hear nothing.”
“Percy, are you okay?” You asked. Was it heat stroke? Or maybe he was overtired? “There’s definitely no cows about, man.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just…you guys go ahead,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” Grover prodded.
“Nothing,” he shook his head. “I just need a minute. I need a minute to think.”
Zoe, Thalia and Grover headed off towards the visitor centre, and you were about to follow after them. But Percy looked…a little too confused for you to be happy leaving him on his own, especially hearing cows that weren’t there.
You trailed after him. Percy leaned on the rail that overlooked the water.
You came up beside him. “Do you want some water?”
Looking down at the water, Percy’s hand reached out and snaked around your arm, pulling you closer. Your eyes widened, but you didn’t resist.
“What—”
You followed his gaze downward, and couldn’t believe what you were seeing.
“Is that—”
Percy nodded. “Bessie.”
“Bessie?”
“Bessie the cow serpent.”
You looked at your friend. Your slightly stir-crazy friend. “That explains it all.”
Percy’s bring eyes practically shone looking at the sea creature. “What are you doing here? How did you get up here?”
A quick glance around showed nobody else could see this Bessie. Either that or they were all hoping it would go away if they avoided eye contact.
Bessie swam in a circle, long tail swishing, before bashing its head on the wall of the dam. “Mooooo!”
It was as if you were in a weird dream, quite frankly. A cow-sea-creature nobody but yourselves could see. But in this whole strange world of demigods and gods and monsters, was anything a real shock anymore?
But after the day you’d had so far, and Bianca’s passing, everyone felt like a big, fat joke on you.
“I can’t!” Percy exclaimed. “I’m with my friends!”
Bessie have an urgent moo, and dove underwater, swimming away.
Percy raised his head, green eyes meeting yours, and you hesitated on saying something. A weird chill settled on your spine, as if to say watch your back. You looked behind Percy, and froze. Two tall men in grey camouflage covered flickering skeletal bodies. And they were heading right for you.
“Gotta go,” you snatched up Percy’s hand. “Let’s go!”
You ran as fast as your legs would take you, lungs burning, toward the visitor’s centre. Percy skidded to a stop beside you as you slowed to fit through the entryway, and you didn’t have the time to pay attention to what it was he was looking at behind you. You bolted down the stairs, security yelling for you to slow down, but you paid them no heed. Your friends had no idea what was going on, and like hell would you let a repeat of what happened to Bianca happen.
Percy called your name behind you. “Wait up!” He yelled. “Slow down!”
“Like we have the time!” You called back, not caring if he heard. The ding of an elevator caught your attention. To your left, a group of tourists waited with a guide, and you took your chance, running across to it.
Just as you slid inside, Percy slid in behind you, and the doors closed with a ding. A few people looked your way, as you heaved for breath.
“We’ll be going down seven hundred feet!” The tour guide said cheerfully. Her dark hair was tied up in a long ponytail, and dark shades covered her eyes. “Don’t worry, ladies and gentlemen! The elevator hardly ever breaks!”
You could have rolled your eyes. Hardly ever—chances were, with your luck, the hardly ever part would happen to you.
“Does this go to the snack bar?” Percy asked behind you. A couple of people laughed. The tour guide looked your way, and shivers ran down your spine; you wished Percy had just kept his mouth shut. Your gut twisted.
“To the turbines, young man. Weren’t you listening to my interesting presentation upstairs?”
“Oh, uh, sure. Is there another way out of the dam?”
“It’s a dead end,” said an irritated-sounding tourist behind. You had half a mind to look them up and down for good measure, but refrained. “The only way out is the other elevator.”
With a ding, the elevator doors opened.
“Go right ahead,” the tour guide said. “Another ranger is waiting for you at the end of the corridor.”
You moved quickly, trying to get out of the small space.
“Young man!” The tour guide called. Percy gripped your arm. You turned back.
She’d taken off her sunglasses, twirling them in her hand, and you blanched. Her eyes were a startling grey. Just like yours. Just like Annabeth’s.
Something tugged in your stomach.
And something felt oddly familiar about this guide.
“There is always a way out for those clever enough to find it.”
She looked at you. She winked, the corner of her mouth curved in a sly smile just the way yours did.
Just the way yours did.
You blinked. Before you could give any thought to what just happened, the elevator doors closed, and the only sound you could focus on was the sound of skeleton chattering.
With Percy still attached to your arm, you ran after the tour group, through a weird-looking tunnel made of jagged stone that seemed to go on forever. The air was humid and hot, and when you came out the other end, fifty-feet below you were enormous wind turbines. It was almost enough to send you dizzy.
By this point, you slowed, and allowed yourself to think. You’d gotten here on spontaneous thoughts, but where did you go from here? Considering your line of bad experiences with your own ideas, maybe it was best to sit this part out, the part full of action, and let Percy take the lead. Playing hero wasn’t going so well, for you.
You looked around in a circle, almost feeling desperately lost, as if your body told you let someone else take over. Preferably, an adult. Someone to take this burden from you all. Because, at last, this quest was wearing you thin, and the lingering question and unease surrounding what happened to Bianca would simply not let up on you.
All you wanted now, was to go back to camp.
Percy, at your side, shoulders slumped, sighed. He span his sword, disguised as a pen, between his fingers. You turned to him.
“Look,” you breathed. “I think—”
Percy’s eyes shifted to behind you, and widened. You barely saw the quick sweep of his arm pushing you out of the way before you felt it, staggering aside.
“H-hey—!”
The gleam of his sword caught your eye, as he swiped it straight down. Almost falling back, you turned to the victim of his harsh death.
Except the girl wasn’t dead.
Just horrified.
And very human.
“What the hell?!” She screeched. “Do you always kill people when they open a packet of Kleenex?”
Both yourself and Percy could only blink at the girl, whose wild red hair danced in her eyes. She blew it away, huffing when it fell back.
“You’re human?” Percy frowned.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The girl pulled a face. “Of course I’m human. How did you get that sword through security?”
Your jaw almost dropped. “Ohhhh boy.”
“You can see this?”
The girl rolled her eyes. Her nose was red as if she’d been aggressively wiping it like she had a cold, and jeans with holes all over, like she’d gotten bored in class. The inner stylist in you cringed.
“Well, it’s either a sword or the biggest toothpick in the world,” she scoffed. “And why didn’t it hurt me. Not that I’m complaining. And woah, are you wearing lion fur?” She reached her hand out to Percy’s coat.
At Percy’s lack of words, you looked to him, going to prompt him to explain. But he stood like a fish, mouth agape, staring at this girl. Jealousy ran through your body, and your jaw clenched.
“It’s none of your business, really,” you huffed. The girl’s eyes rolled over to you like she was bored. “I mean, we gotta go anyway, so…”
Percy raised his hand suddenly and snapped his fingers in the girl’s face. She went cross-eyed looking at them. “You don’t see a sword,” he said. “It’s a ballpoint pen.”
She scrunched her nose. “Uh, no. I’m pretty sure it’s a sword.”
You almost wanted to sock Percy in the arm. “Bro, what are you doing? We need to go.”
“Who are you?” Percy ignored you.
“Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Now are you going to answer my questions or am I going to call for security?”
“Uh, miss Rachel Elizabeth Dare,” you imitated poorly. Her face was a picture at your words. “We really have places to be. Percy, we need to go.”
“You in a hurry or trouble?” Rachel asked.
“Hurry.”
“None of your business.”
Percy blinked at you, talking over one another. He sighed.
Rachel coughed a little too loudly for your nerves. You slowly turned to her, ready to give this random girl a piece of your mind. She grabbed your arm and pushed you along.
“Bathroom, now!”
You tripped on a wet floor sign, knocking it down on your way in. You landed on the slimy floor, complaining under your breath. Your own voice was too loud at this point, but something else caught your attention in the background.
The chattering of skeletons.
“Oh my god! Did you see those kids! They just ran at me with swords! I think they went that way towards the wind turbines! You better hurry!”
The chattering grew quieter, and then a knock on the door. “You’re good!”
You emerged back into the public. Rachel Elizabeth Dare looked shaken and slightly pale.
“All clear, but you better go.”
Down the way, skeletons were running in the direction Rachel sent them.
“We owe you, Rachel,” Percy breathed.
“What are those things?”
“The skeletons?”
Rachel nodded uneasily.
“Do yourself a favor,” Percy replied grimly. “Forget it all. Forget you ever met us.”
“Forget you tried to kill me?”
“That too,” you quipped. Rachel side-eyed you. You looked her up and down.
“But who are you?” The question was, very obviously pointed at Percy.
“Percy—gotta go.”
Warmth wrapped your wrist, and pulled you along. Behind you both, Rachel Elizabeth Dare was whining. “What sort of name is Percy Gotta-Go?”
The cafe was packed with kids shouting and crying, and your heart felt about to burst from the run down here. You scanned the room. In the middle, at a round table, Thalia, Grover and Zoe sat with their food.
You ran over, a gross and sweaty mess, panting. You slammed your hands on the table so hard their trays shook. “We—gotta—go,” you heaved.
“But we just got our burritos!” Thalia said.
Zoe looked around. “No. She’s right. Let’s go.”
The cafe wrapped around the dam, giving your friends a good view of the skeletons that had come to kill you. And all of them were armed with batons and pistons. The more urgent problem now, though—the skeletons Rachel had spotted were making their way over. They began to advance.
“Elevator!” Grover gasped.
You all ran for your lives, and skidded to a stop as the elevator arrived on your level with a ding! You scrambled back, almost tripping on someone’s toes as more skeletons came out. You were completely surrounded.
And then…Grover’s brilliant mind surfaced a brilliant plan.
“Good fight!” He screamed.
And launched his burrito right at a skeleton’s face. His skull fell off his shoulders with a clatter, like he’d been taken out by a grenade and not a burrito.
It didn’t take very long for Grover’s plan to take off. Kids began throwing their food this way and that, and you couldn’t even be mad at the soda and chips in your hair because the skeletons couldn’t aim their guns, and you were soon just blurry faces in a raging crowd.
“Four against eleven. What now?”
“It’s been nice going with you guys,” Grover trembled.
“Woah, their toes are really bright?”
“Percy, that’s really weird.”
“Thalia, pray to your dad.”
Said girl glared at your best friend. “He never answers.”
“Just this once. Please just try!”
“No! He won’t answer me!”
“This time is different!”
“Says who?!”
Percy hesitated. “Athena—” your head snapped to him. “I think.”
Thalia scowled.
“Try it!” Grover begged.
Thalia closed her eyes, sighing visibly. Her mouth moved in silent prayer, and you gave thought to what Percy said.
The grey eyes. That weird feeling in your stomach. And the same smile…
Things like that couldn’t be just a coincidence, could they? And after how you had felt all day…was it weird to hope your mom might be giving you guidance?
You tried it too.
Mom. Please, if you can hear me, give us some guidance. Show us what to do. I can’t anymore.
The skeletons closed in, and so did your chest. It pulled tight in a way you had never felt before…was this impending doom?
You dug for your dagger and held it tight in your fist. Percy clutched his sword closer.
Just as you thought your heart was giving out, a shadow fell over you. In slight fear, you tilted back your head, mouth agape. Above you, stood the very statues you set your sights on earlier. The bronze angels. Bullets pinged off their wings like rain on a metal roof. Both angels swept their giant arms like bats, and the skeletons went flying.
“Man, it feels good to stand up!” One said. His voice sounded tinny.
“Will ya look at my toes?” The other said. “What we’re those tourists thinkin’?”
“Get us out of here!” Thalia yelled.
Both angels looked down at her. “Zeus’s kid?”
“Yes!”
“Could I get a please, Miss Zeus’s Kid?”
“Please get us out of here!”
The angels shrugged to one another. “Could give my wings a stretch?”
Next thing you knew, one swept up Percy and Thalia, the other Grover and Zoe, and before you could get left behind, you leapt for one’s wing, shoes scuffling as you pulled your way up to its shoulder.
And then you flew straight up, over the dam, away from the river and the trouble.
—
“Tell me when it’s over!” Thalia said from your left. A timid peak behind the angel’s head showed you Thalia with her eyes squeezed shut, holding on for dear life.
Not that you could blame her. This high up, with nothing to properly hold on to, you were feeling a little worried, too. You’d situated yourself just in the crook of the angel’s neck, on his shoulder, holding on to his ear of all things. Your arms were starting to go a little dead, but you weren’t taking any chances.
“Are we…high?” She asked.
Percy kicked his foot off the edge of the mountain below and shook his head. “Nah, not really.”
It depends who you asked. Even this high was enough for you.
“We are in the Sierras!” Zoe yelled from the other angel. “I have hunted here before. At this speed, we should be in San Francisco in a few hours!”
News which both delighted you and twisted your guts. You would either find your sister alive and well in a state you’d never forget.
“Hey, hey, Frisco!” The other angel yelled. “Yo, chuck, we should visit those other guys at the Mechanics Monument again! They know how to party!”
“Oh, man, I am so there!”
“You’ve visited San Francisco?” You raised a brow.
“We automatons gotta have some fun once in a while, right?” Yours said. “Those Mechanics took us over to the de Young Museum and introduced us to these marble ladies, and see—”
“Alright!” You exclaimed. “Feel free to stop there.”
“Hank!” The other angel, Chuck, laughed. “They’re kids, man.”
“Oh, right. Back to flying.”
They sped up. The snowy mountains fell away soon enough and transformed into farmland and roads, and then the city.
It turned quiet after a while. Thalia muttered to herself. Grover played his pipes quietly, and Zoe pegged a bullseye on ever my Target you passed.
“Hey.”
You looked down, with hesitancy. Percy was looking up.
“Sup?”
You pressed your lips together, thinking. “You think that was really my mom back there?”
He didn’t talk for a few seconds. “Maybe. I mean, I just…I had a feeling. But…”
Percy’s unsureness didn’t put yours off. Because the more you thought about it, the more you had a feeling you were right.
The angels landed on a ferry dock, once in San Francisco. You scared a homeless man, who ran off yelling about metal angels from mars.
Only when it was quiet and still, did you wonder what next?
You looked between your friends, all appearing as stuck as you.
What Percy said next struck you.
“Look, guys,” he said almost hesitantly. “I haven’t mentioned this before, but, uh, halfway down here, I had a dream. I talked to Apollo in it, and he said something about finding this monster.”
“What kind of monster?” Thalia eyeballed him.
“I’m not sure.” Percy shrugged. “He just said it would help us find our way. Nereus, I think he was called.”
“Nereus, eh?” Zoe pulled a disgusted face.
“The old man of the sea,” said Percy.
“You know him?” Asked Thalia.
“My mother was a sea goddess. Yes, I know him. Unfortunately he is very hard to find. Just follow the smell.”
You all strolled across the pier to a charity shop hosting cardboard boxes of free clothes for the homeless outside. You were confused as Zoe stopped outside of it and turned to face you all.
“Trust me,” she said, talking to Percy, who instantly pulled a mistrusting face, mouth curved unhappily. “Put these on.”
She dressed him in too-big pants, a ragged flannel shirt and shoes that made him look like an improvising clown, lost from the circus.
You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your mouth at the sight of him. Even Grover was holding back a smile. Percy was not by any means impressed.
Zoe stepped back and looked him over, and then nodded, impressed. “A typical male vagrant.”
“Thanks a lot,” he grumbled. “Why am I doing this?”
“I told thee; to blend in.”
Zoe led the way down to the water-front. After a long time of her searching for something, she finally stopped, and turned to Percy. She pointed to a group of homeless guys huddled together with blankets.
“He will be down there somewhere,” she said. “He never veers far from the water. He likes to sun himself during the day.”
“How do I know which one is him?” Asked Percy. You nodded, looking at Zoe.
“Sneak up. Act homeless. You will know who he is. He…he smells different.”
“Great. And once I find him?”
“Grab him. And hold on. He will try anything to be rid of thee. Whatever he does, do not let go. Force him to tell thee about the monster.”
Ah. The monster, which nobody had mentioned to you. Just another punch to the chest.
“We’ve got your back,” said Thalia, reaching out and picking something off of Percy’s new—well, reused—shirt. She gagged. “On second thought, I don’t want your back. But we’ll be rooting for you.”
Percy huffed, looking the least happy you’d ever seen him. He turned to you, and offered a tight-mouthed smile. More of a grimace.
“Any advice?”
“I’ve stopped all that. It doesn’t seem to be getting us anywhere good. Just do you.”
The rest of you observed your friend as he wandered down the dock, looking lost and confused. Eventually, Percy left your line of sight, and you found a nice spot on the floor to rest a while.
A ruckus a few yards away caught your attention. You looked at Thalia, who hummed. Then her eyes went wide, and the shouts of anger turned into awe.
“Whoa!”
You turned, mouth agape, as a giant killer whale came burst out of the water and feet into the air. Percy gave you all a little wave, before plunging into the sea.
“Well. At least we know he’s fine.”
It wasn’t long before Percy wrestled the old man to the surface. Thalia tapped your arm. “Let’s go!”
“You got him!” Zoe yelled. The four of you sprinted down to Percy.
“You don’t have to sound so amazed,” he said.
Even from a foot away, the smell of gross seaweed and dried up something filled your nose. You wanted to gag. Nereus groaned. “Oh wonderful, an audience for my humiliation. The normal deal, I suppose? You’ll let me go if I answer your questions.”
“Sure,” you shrugged.
“Only one question per capture!”
Percy’s silence followed with his sigh. “Alright, Nereus. Tell me where to find this terrible monster that could bring an end to the gods. The one Artemis was hunting.”
“Oh, that’s too easy,” Nereus grinned evilly. “He’s right there!” Nereus pointed at the water by Percy’s feet.
“Where?”
“The deal is complete!”
With a plop, he turned into a goldfish and summersaulted into the sea.
“Wait!”
“Stop!” Thalia shoved forward. “What is that?”
“Mooooooo!”
You blinked. Maybe you weren’t insane at all. The serpent-cow swam around in the water, giving Percy the puppy dog eyes.
“Ah,” he grimaced. “Bessie, not now.”
“Moooo!”
“He says his name isn’t Bessie,” Grover said.
“You can understand her…I mean, him?”
Grover nodded. “It’s a very old form of animal language, but he says his name is Ophiotaurus.”
“The what?”
“It means serpent-bull in Greek.” Thalia said. “But what’s it doing here?”
“Moooo!”
“It says Percy is it’s protector.”
You scoffed, playfully. “Percy couldn’t protect a teddy bear.”
“Hey!”
“He’s running from bad people. He says they’re close.”
Thalia’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “And you somehow forgot to mention this before?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I know this story!” Zoe said suddenly. She snapped her fingers. “From the War of the Titans. My father told me this tale thousands of years ago. This is the beast we are looking for.”
Your gaze dropped to the doe-eyed creature swimming in urgent circles. It mooed sadly. You eyed it sceptically.
“Bessie?” Percy’s tone of voice told you he had the same thought. “But…he’s too cute. He couldn’t destroy the world…”
“This is how we were wrong,” Zoe persuaded. “We had been expecting a great monster of terrible power. But the ophiotaurus can not harm the very way that other creatures do. He must be sacrificed.”
“I don’t think he likes the S-word,” Grover muttered.
Percy knelt, the damp ground around him soaking into his jeans and drying instantly. He reached out a hand, and scratched the creature’s head. “How could anyone hurt him? He’s harmless.”
Zoe nodded. “But there is power in killing innocence. Terrible power. The Fates ordained a prophecy eons ago, when this creature was born. They said that whoever killed the Ophiotaurus and sacrificed its entrails to fire would have the power to destroy the gods.”
“MMMMMM!”
“Um,” Grover said. “Maybe we could avoid talking about entrails, too.”
Thalia stared at the cow serpent with wonder. “The power to destroy the gods . . . how? I mean, what would happen?”
“No one knows,” Zoe said. “The first time, during the Titan war, the Ophiotaurus was in fact slain by a giant ally of the Titans, but thy father, Zeus, sent an eagle to snatch the entrails away before they could be tossed into the fire. It was a close call. Now, after three thousand years, the Ophiotaurus is reborn.”
Thalia sat down on the dock. She stretched out her hand. Bessie went right to her. Thalia placed her hand on his head. Bessie shivered.
“We have to protect him. If Luke gets hold of him…”
“Luke wouldn’t hesitate,” you said. You didn’t know him well, not the way Percy or Thalia did, but you knew that much. And, even if you didn’t, you could sense it. “The power to overthrow Olympus? That’s…that’s huge.”
“Yes.”
A hand clapped down on your shoulder. You pulled away, walking backward into Grover. Your heart thudded painfully.
There, before you, stood Dr. Thorn, eyes glinting menacingly.
“And it is a power you shall unleash.”
oh. my. gods. it’s quite literally been months. and I didn’t even finish this chapter. I just needed to get something out.
I’m so sorry for the absence.
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TNGDH 27
“I’m going to die…….”
Literally. My legs were so sore that I couldn’t feel them anymore. My vision blurred and all I could see was the earthy brown color of the ground everywhere.
To think riding a horse was this strenuous. It’s the horse that’s running, and yet why am I the one getting tired? Because the ground was uneven, I even felt nauseous. Please…… save me.
“Hang on a little bit more.”
Kyle comforted me when he heard me groan.
Of course, it didn’t comfort me. Thinking how many more hours I’d have to ride the horse later today, I felt anxious to cancel ‘Summon’ and go back to the hamster house to rest.
Phew. Such is my life. This strange, tiring life.
Glumly holding onto the reigns, I heard a loud caw above me. The Northern crows circled around in the sky, making it feel unpleasant.
“Why is it crying out loud? Such bad luck.”
“……Do you normally express it as ‘crying’?”
“If it can’t talk, then I’d say it would be crying.”
I answered grumpily and lowered back my head to focus on the road ahead.
Beyond the castle and plains was a forest full of coniferous trees. There were many ravines here and there, so the terrain was not easy to travel across. The path could only fit two horses side by side.
“Don’t worry too much about it.”
Kyle must’ve been worried after seeing my expression.
“Since this is only a reconnaissance with the new knights, we will only briefly check the forest before heading back. Cases where we go beyond the small mountain besides during subjugations or investigations are rare.”
“A small mountain……?”
You call this a small?
I clicked my tongue as I looked at the cliff stretched out in the distance.
“What is there beyond that cliff?”
“Are you talking about the types of demonic beasts?”
“Oh, no. Rather than demonic beasts…… are there any villages or anything.”
Upon asking, Kyle laughed as if what he heard was nonsense.
“The Blake estate is the only place in the North where people can survive. Well, I’m sure there would be villages where the demonic beasts gather instead.”
“……That doesn’t sound very amusing. Then what are there geographically?”
“Over this mountain is a vast rocky plain with chunks of ice and rocks here and there. Beyond that is a large mountain, and beyond the large mountain is the sea.”
He lifted his sleeve over my face to shield it from the strong winds. It felt so natural that I accepted it without a second thought.
I tilted my head and glanced up at him. Seeing how he didn’t even bat an eyelid at the harsh wind, he must’ve been used to the cold.
“I rarely go beyond the frozen sea. It’s difficult to go and there is nothing good there.”
Even if the sea is frozen, isn’t it just a regular sea? What was so different and difficult about it?
“Why is that? Is it a lawless zone or something?”
“Yes. It’s not a place that the Meinhardt Empire could even handle. Beyond that sea, even I would have to risk my life.”
Just what exactly is there?
I thought about various possibilities and then the system that has been quiet until now popped up.
[Beyond the Northern Sea is an area called the ‘Magician’s Domain’.]
‘The Magician’s Domain, huh. It sounds pretty tame when hearing the name alone…….’
But that didn’t look to be the case seeing Kyle’s expression. Well, I could think about it later. It’s not like I’ll go there today.
“Your Highness. Should we return to the northeast pathway?”
Hearing the voice from behind, Kyle paused for a moment and measured the distance.
The road ahead branched out into two paths. One appeared to be a road going up the hill to northeast and the other going down to the canyon in the northwest.
The knights murmured to each other in relief and anxiety by hearing the word ‘northeast’.
Kyle said in a heavy tone.
“The area where the wyvern nest has not been resolved yet. Also, currently it is mating season so we must avoid northeast. Everyone, take a detour to the western canyon!”
……If it’s a detour, does that mean this reconnaissance would take more time?
I nervously checked the remaining time in ‘Summon’.
[‘Summon’ will be canceled in 20 minutes.]
It won’t be good if I suddenly disappear in the middle of the canyon……. Sigh. Today will be the day I use up all my Miracle Points.
I quickly bought a cookie from the Nut Store.
[Long-Lasting Acorn Cookies |Miracle Points 1% consumption | Extend duration of ‘Summon’ by 1 hour]
[Current Miracle Value 25.0%]
Hopefully, I could keep my points above 20% by the end of this expedition. Meaning, I’d prefer to return back to the estate within six hours.
I quietly glanced at Kyle and took out the cookie from my pockets. Crunch. Kyle glanced back upon hearing the sound of me eating.
“Why are you trying to eat so secretly?”
Your ears are quite sharp. Couldn’t you have pretended not to hear anything?
“It is my life.”
That was 100% the truth.
“I sure get to hear a lot of interesting things from you.”
Of course, Kyle thought of it as a joke.
I’m telling you, it’s the truth. An acorn cookie I bought with the cost of my life. Although it’s savory, it leaves the mouth a little dry after you finish eating it…….
“Anyways, it means that I’m not going to share it with you.”
Kyle’s red eyes blankly stared at me as if he were surprised.
“It’s fine. More importantly…….”
He lightly squeezed my chin and turned it to the side. I muttered, “What is it,” as I glanced around in the direction Kyle pointed out using my face.
“Over there. Do you see those forest bushes?”
My eyes that were once wandering around aimlessly stopped on something sparkling in the bushes. Several pairs of round eyes gazed towards our direction.
They were furry animals that could be held within two hands. Smaller than a dog, but a little larger than a mouse. There was a short horn on its forehead between its round ears.
It was an animal I have never seen before, and yet it felt strangely familiar…….
“Those are the Northern field mice.”
What?
“That is what they would look like after growing a mana stone in their heart. They are a little small compared to other Northern demonic beasts though.”
That’s not right. Normally a mouse that size would be considered very large.
“They are quite tame if you don’t bother them first. It was around this area where I first met Cashew.”
Kyle’s tone of voice instantly went soft. His expression gradually softened as he thought of the cute squishy demonic beast waiting for him at the castle……
Forget about It. Can’t you see that the cute and squishy demonic beast is suffering here right now due to muscle pains.
[Currently Possessing Hearts | ❤×198]
Cancel what I said earlier.
Think about me a lot. Just two hearts worth more.
“Should I try finding a mate for it…….”
……Huh. Wait, what did you just say?
Immediately, I yelled as he was mumbling.
“No!”
“…….”
“Most definitely not. To think about copulating demonic beasts!”
“Northern field mice are usually quite active.”
“Those are the Northern mice. Cashew is a domestic demonic beast. It has been developing slow and hasn’t even developed a magic stone yet. What if you pair it up and it ends up getting eaten by its pair?
I have no intention of sharing my house no matter how big it may be. Roommates are absolutely forbidden.
“Sure, you can adopt another one if you want to see Cashew dead the next day.”
If that day ever comes, I will kill you myself and run away from here. You understand?
Kyle nodded in disappointment under my intense gaze.
“……That makes sense. I understand. As soon as I get back, I shall have a meeting with the magicians to plan on injecting mana energy.”
I hope there won’t be any side effects from doing that.
Would I look like a fraud if I say that there is no need to inject mana? I looked at him with a wistful expression and then looked at the group of mice.
‘I wonder if I am not a normal, typical hamster?’
To not have a mana stone inside the heart and to not have any visible growth. I suspect I will never be able to grow as big as those mice over there……
“As expected…….”
Kyle made comparisons with the Northern field mice.
“There is none as cute as Cashew.”
Just like a hamster otaku.
[Currently Possessing Hearts | ❤×200]
Still, as long as you’re happy.
Thanks to that, I could buy the Demonic Beast Encyclopedia. I pretended to stretch my arms and took out the encyclopedia.
“Now, let’s see…….”
“What is that?”
“A necessary textbook for a demonic beast specialist, the Demonic Beast Encyclopedia. This book was bought off from my diligent teacher who also had a bit of a grumpy personality.”
[┗|`O′|┛]
What, why. It’s the truth. You ate up all my Hearts so be quiet.
Kyle slowed down the horse to let me read the book comfortably. The deeper we went into the canyon, the darker our surroundings became. The knights changed their formation and turned on their lights.
Let’s see…….
“Goblin, ogre, wyvern…… bear, unicorn? There’s quite a variety of beasts. Northern poisonous snake, forest eel? Why is there an eel in the forest?”
There are really a lot of strange things in this world. Korea was truly an ordinary place in comparison.
“Oh, here it is. Northern field mice.”
The word ‘field mice’ caught Kyle’s attention.
“The Northern field mice is one of the less threatening species, boasting mediocre physical abilities…… wow, isn’t this a bit too harsh?.”
System, can’t you do your work properly? Do you want to be sent to the sky?
This is definitely a revenge on me.
[( ̄︶ ̄)]
“And?”
“The process of developing a mana stone is more complicated than other demonic beasts, but once it develops it, it could use simple magic. Generally of the earth magic……”
I then shut my mouth. It was because an ominous premonition passed through my mind.
You won’t be making me learn some kind of magic later, right? I’m already quite sad to have become a hamster…
[(⊙ˍ⊙)]
‘No, why do you have such a surprised expression…….’
Bang!
At that moment, a huge rock fell about ten steps in front of us, shaking the ground.
Don’t tell me…….
“Change to defensive formation!”
Kyle stretched out his arm to close the book in my hands.
“Shu. From now on, everything I say will be an order and disobedience will not be tolerated.”
I felt a shiver go down my body. Kyle spoke before I could respond back a ‘Yes’.
“No matter what happens, do not get off the horse.”
With that, he jumped off from the horse and unsheathed his sword.
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