#but! even if this chapter takes forEVER to write i still think there's enough buffer to let me post the next one so i may just do that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maddiwrites · 3 years

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Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 24)

Pairing: JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Here we go!!!!! The final chapter to this series/rewrite!!!! Thank you to everyone who’s stayed with me and has left me with great feedback and compliments. I’m so grateful! I loved writing this series and I’m looking forward to season 2! As always I love you all and forever grateful for every single one of you!

Word Count: 4k

Chapter 23 Masterlist

JJ pulls me aside by Kie's car and lets me silently cry into his shoulder while he kisses the top of my head and tells me everything is going to be okay in sweet whispers. I let him hold me because I feel like I can finally breathe for the first time in weeks.

"I should have went with him," I mumble for the millionth time in his shoulder.

"Trust me, if nothing else kills him first, you would." I pull away and give him a confused look. He quickly explains with a small grin. "I think the reason you two lasted so long together was because the three of us were there to buffer most of your fights."

"It's not my fault he's stupid." I smirk.

"See?" JJ says like he just made his point.

I roll my eyes and look over at Pope and Kie when I finally hear them talking like friends again.

"I'm sorry for acting like a dumbass," Pope stammers. "I was just upset and I was acting petty..."

"Yeah," Kie agrees with him.

"And I just..."

"It's okay."

"...just wanna be friends again."

Another round of thunder rumbles above us and I know it's going to rain any second. But that's not what has my attention. It's the way Kie moves closer to Pope and how her hand gently caresses his cheek. Then their lips meet and they're embraced together as one.

My mouth physically drops to the floor and I cover it with my hand. I can't believe what I'm seeing. Only hours before, the two of them couldn't be further away from this moment. Pope hated her and Kie was adamant about being nothing but friends. I guess Kie did have a thing for Pope. She tried convincing herself otherwise and it didn't work.

JJ laughs next to me and squeezes me tighter to his side. He shakes his head but smiles proudly at his best friend for finally making his move.

Unfortunately, the moment is ruined by another wave of police sirens closer than I wish they were.

"Hey, guys, I'm sorry to ruin the party, but, uh, we gotta go right now," JJ says. Kie and Pope pull away from each other, both of them wearing delirious grins. "Come on!"

As we move towards the car, a round of about four different cop cars surround us with their red and blue lights and loud sirens. JJ backs up, making sure I'm right behind him by clutching my wrist behind his back.

"Pope..." Kie says worriedly.

"Move! Hands up! Hands up!" Officer Shoupe approaches us first with a mean scowl on his face. He looks at each one of us, no doubt looking for John B.

"Pope, hands," Kie says through clenched teeth when Pope hesitates to comply.

Shoupe's eyes land on mine and he holds my stare for a second longer than everyone else's. I make sure to keep my face stoic and unreadable even though I want to proudly smirk in his face and even say 'ha ha.'

"We're too late. He's gone. God damn it!" He says to his team. He speaks into his radio strapped on his shoulder. "Bratcher, have your guys stand down. Let me talk to these kids." Shoupe approaches us again and looks directly at me. "All right, where the hell is he? Where the hell is he?" When I don't say anything or even as much breathe in his direction, he looks at JJ. "JJ? I see you're living up to your name." Then he looks at Pope. "Pope, how about you? This isn't a fucking game! You can do the right thing now! Where'd he go?" Shoupe glances one last time at me before looking behind my shoulder. He pulls his radio up to his lips. "Suspect has just left Station 26 in a small boat."

The man on the radio responds. "Need marine patrol to respond."

Another crack of thunder strikes a new wave of nerves through my body. John B's barely out of here and I don't know if the storm is going to hold off long enough to give him a steady getaway.

Next thing I know we're being tossed in two separate vehicles. I keep my teeth clenched and my eyes forward. I pretend to look strong and committed when all I feel is nervous and scared.

The police bring us into a large tent set up to protect them from the rain. I'm literally in shock by how many people are here, working together to find my brother. Many men and women walk past us with rain jackets with the letters FBI on their backs in gold bold letters. I'm literally speechless by how important these people think my brother is.

Every word that comes from these people's mouths sound like a code I'm trying to decipher as they speak to one another.

"They're still trying to verify..."

"Mobilized..."

"Follow Plumb to that tent..."

"Wait for your friends..."

"...SBI on the scene..."

"They killed a person."

"This way." Someone physically tugs on my arm and pulls me to sit on a row of plastic chairs with my friends.

"...That's all you can say?"

Shoupe stands in front of me, temporarily distracting me from trying my best to eavesdrop on the other agents. "Sit down. Don't move. We got a lot to talk about." He looks at the agent who pulled me by my wrist. "Keep an eye on these kids."

I look up at the agent placed on babysitting duty. Younger, fit, brunette, stubble. He looks at each one of us like he's studying us, placing a mental bet on which one is going to break first. His gaze lands on me and he holds it longer than he did the others. They probably recognize my face as easily as they would recognize my brother's.

There's a lot going on inside and out this tent. Agents speak so fast with one another you might think they're speaking a different language. Every time thunder rumbles above us, I don't know if it's my heart or my stomach swirling with nausea. Rain is pouring down outside, each drop pelting against the concrete and drowning out the demands and orders of every superior agent.

The lights are bright against the dark wall that is outside. If I keep my eyes open for too long I think my head is going to explode.

I feel fingers interlocking with my right hand. JJ's looking at me like he's waiting for me to break like a fragile vase teetering off the countertop. I nod my head in a silent way of saying thank you and that I'm still confident our plan is going to work.

"Hey, we're back up. We got power," I hear someone announce.

My head snaps forward. I look outside the flaps of the tent opening. I can barely see the lighthouse, but the light circling around it is bright enough to light up the entire island.

"Shit," I curse to myself.

Ironically, power is all I wanted this summer. Mentally and, because of Hurricane Agatha, physically. But now, I dread it.

"That's them! There they are!"

Dozens of agents run outside with their binoculars, flashlights, and guns, and tasers. Immediately I stand up to follow, but just as quickly, I'm pushed back into my seat by our babysitter agent who isn't even cool enough to get an FBI windbreaker.

Kie's looking at me with as much fear as I'm feeling. My leg bounces anxiously and the hand I'm not using to squeeze JJ's is wrapped around the bottom of my seat tight enough to turn my knuckles white.

I try peering out through the plastic 'windows' of the tent which are just clear plastic tarps cut out in squares in the tent. Boats with red, white, and blue lights chase after another boat in the water - a boat that would be impossible to see if the lighthouse was still out of power.

"Subject is changing heading. They're heading south."

I look at our baby sitter's radio that's gripped tightly in his hand.

"Subject is attempting to escape to the south."

I look at JJ with wide eyes. "He's going straight into the storm."

I don't know if it's a second, a minute, or an hour later, but my name is being called. Another agent, this one more superior than the others, stands in front of me. He's tall, bald, has light brown skin, and bright hazel eyes. He's not smiling but he looks pleased with himself nonetheless and I don't know why because John B isn't captured yet.

"I think your brother would like to speak with you," He says.

My jaw tightens and I narrow my eyes in his direction. I don't believe him. John B wouldn't ask for me unless he knew this was the end. And it isn't. It can't be.

But if it is and I don't talk to my brother one last time, I will hate myself forever.

So I follow him despite the calls of disagreement coming from my friends. He and a couple agents behind him pull me into another tent where more important agents are running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

People move out of my way like I'm Paris Hilton and they're the paparazzi. They look at me like I'm a celebrity and they're speechless with surprise and judgement.

But I don't care about the FBI, Kildare's cops, the rain or the storm. I care about the man sitting on the other end of the fold up table with a pair of headphones around his head and a fake look of concern on his face.

Ward looks up. When he sees me, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

"Ms. Routledge," The agent says to grab my attention.

I'm placed in a seat in front of Ward on the other side of the table. I don't take my eyes off of him for even a second. It's the first time I'm seeing him since our day on his boat. I hate that he's sitting here like he's a fucking victim and not the man who should be behind bars. I hate that he's being treated like an ally while my brother is being chased like a criminal.

But I love that he's looking at me like I can change all of that.

I take the headset from a woman agent next to me and place them on top of my head. I'm instantly met with rustling and whistling of the wind. A couple of disgruntled grunts swim through my ears and I know I'm listening to John B rolling through the storm on the Phantom.

"Don't listen to him. He's a liar!" John B yells into his radio. His voice comes out through the FBI's speaker so everyone can hear. Ward's lips press into a thin line and his hands tighten around the circular end of the headphones by his ear.

They must have tried to get Ward to talk John B down first. Maybe it's because Ward is technically still our legal guardian or maybe...

Maybe Sarah ended up finding him after all.

Ward finally rips his eyes away from me and looks down. "John B, I am begging you. Think of her and turn around." I'm met with nothing but heavy breathing from the other end. I hold my own breath and make sure not to move even an inch so I don't miss a single word that my brother has to say. My heart feels like it's being twisted, shredded, and torn apart by a wild bear. John B is in danger. Not by the cops but by mother nature herself. Out in the ocean where he can disappear forever. Just like my father did. And the thought itself is absolute torture. "John B, what are you doing?"

There's another long pause with seconds lasting as long as hours. My hear skips a beat when my brother finally speaks up again. "Ward Cameron, do you hear me?"

Ward looks at me again and slowly brings nods. "Yes. Yes, son, I'm right here. I'm right here. Please bring her back, okay? We'll work it all out when you get home."

I jump up from the table so fast, my hips bump against the table and shake the radio display on it. "You son of a bitch!" I yell at him, not caring about the hands pushing me by my shoulders to sit back down. Or the barks of other agents telling me to calm down. I want to rip Ward's head off his stupid shoulders and punt it into the deepest part of the ocean. Or a log shredder.

"You killed my father!" John B shouts through the speaker. It's the only thing that actually gets me to calm down and I glare straight into Ward's eyes. I don't pay attention to how the agents react to John B's accusation, because even with the truth out there, I don't trust them to move on it. At the end of the day Ward Cameron is Ward Cameron and my brother is just John Booker Routledge. "And you framed me for a murder I didn't commit. You took everything from me! You took everything from me! But I'm still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what's mine. So, you listen to me, all right? I'm coming for you." A small smirk tugs at the corner of my lips and a sense of pride runs through my fingertips from John B finally standing up for himself. "I'm coming for you."

For once, Ward Cameron looks shitless. Like he did when he realized his mistake on our fishing trip.

"You." The agent next to me points at the radio set and looks at me. "Talk to him! Talk to him!"

I look back at Ward Cameron and place the headset on my head. A crack of thunder shakes around me and I physically flinch away from it. "John B?"

Another pause. Silence that is deafening. "Marleigh? You okay?"

I can't help but laugh. "Come on, brother. You should know by now cops don't scare me."

I can actually hear John B laugh on the other end and it's the only thing that makes me feel better. "Yeah, I know."

"Are you sure about this, Johnny?"

I swallow the lump in my throat as I wait for his reply. "I'd rather die than go to jail for something I didn't do, Mar."

I feel the wall I put up when I was placed in front of Ward Cameron crumble within seconds. Tears cloud my vision at the realization that nothing I can do will stop John B from driving straight into that storm. And I hate that I understand him for it. Because I would do the same thing.

I look up at Ward as tears trail down my cheeks silently. I can tell he's calculating my next move, waiting for me to stop my brother.

"I'll take care of this, okay?"

"I know. You've always taken care of me." His voice cracks and another ripple of thunder rips through the sky. "I love you, Rocket."

A sob wracks through me and I push myself away from the microphone so he doesn't hear me feeling weak. When I gather my composure I push myself closer to the radio. "I love you, Bird."

The head agent slams his palm against the table in frustration. "No!"

I close my eyes and let the tears drown my vision. I feel like I've been placed in an ice bath. Frozen to the core, wanting to kick and scream my way out of it, feeling numb but also like I'm being ripped apart by something sharp.

Another agent walks out. "I wanna have Search and Rescue standing by."

"Any response?" A woman asks another agent.

That other agent shakes his head. "They're not calling it off yet."

Everyone's running around, talking into their ear pieces and looking at one another for any kind of clue on what to do next. I refuse to look at them because I know what's going to come next.

John B use to tell me that being a pessimist would be my downfall. He was always an optimist - hoping and aiming for the best. Believing Dad was alive kept him going where telling myself he wasn't helped me move on. Growing up, we would butt heads a lot. But as a team, we worked well together because he pushed me to go further in life and I helped him stay grounded when it was necessary.

But today, being a pessimist is my strength. Because I'm prepared when Officer Shoupe approaches me with a sullen and sorrowful expression. I don't even have to ask what's wrong because I know it's the last thing I want to hear.

"Marleigh," He says. I think it's the first time he's ever talked to me like I'm a person with feelings and not some teenager causing chaos on his island.

I'm nauseous. My heart is thudding against my chest so heavily I think it might crack a couple ribs. The blood running through my veins feels like it's been lit on fire and I'm on the verge of exploding. The dread and the devastation runs through me in half a second and then is suddenly replaced by a blinding white flare of rage.

"You!" I turn on my heels and try running up to Ward Cameron to wrap my hands around his throat, to pull a gun from the nearest agent and shoot him in the head with it, to tear his eyes out with my finger nails. But I'm easily stopped by the millions of agents that surround both of us. They physically pull me away, barely even flinching as I try clawing through them to get my hands on the entitled Kook in front of me. "This is all your fault! You son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you! No - get off of me!"

I kick and scream until my throat is raw and my legs feel weak. Ward is pulled away from me so he can grieve the death of his own daughter. I only stop thrashing around when my body goes limp. My legs are rubber and my head is heavy. I fall to the floor and fold into my knees and cry the hardest I have ever cried before. I cry for the loss of my brother. For Sheriff Peterkin. For the justice my dad will never get. For the gold he's worked so hard to get live on without his name ever being mentioned with it.

I don't know how long I stay on the floor until someone helps me up. They place a windbreaker over my shoulders and walk with me to the tent where my friends are waiting for me.

My heart is a bloodless organ, my head a hollow skull. I can't feel anything from the thinnest part of my fingertips to the deepest emotion in my brain.

I follow Officer Shoupe and two other agents back to my friends like a zombie. I can't even look at my friends because I'm afraid they'll feel the same heated pain that I'm experiencing and I don't want that.

Shoupe looks at them the same way he looked at me.

"Did you find them?" JJ immediately stands up. He tries meeting my eyes but I keep them focused on the dirt ground below me.

"No," Shoupe says.

"So, they got away?" I hate the hope laced in JJ's voice.

Another crackle of thunder makes me flinch.

Shoupe sighs. "We, uh...we lost them." He looks up. "I'm sorry."

A deafening silence falls around us and I finally look up. JJ's brows are pinched together in confusion and anger, Kie's about to burst into tears, and Pope looks frozen in shock.

"What do you mean you lost them?" Pope asks. "Like they're gone?"

"What are you talking about?" JJ demands.

Again Shoupe sighs. "They took an open boat into a tropical depression, Pope."

"So they're dead?" Pope asks.

"We don't know."

JJ snaps. He takes a threatening step towards the set of officers and points an accusatory finger at them. "You drove them through the storm, man! Are you kidding me? Come here!" It takes two agents to pull JJ away from Officer Shoupe. "I'm gonna kill you."

I don't even react to the outburst because I can't. I can't feel anything other than my own teeth clattering together and my lip quivering with the threat of a new round of tears.

"JJ, stop!" Kie tries to calm him down through her own sobs. But even I know, she's wasting her breath.

"I'm gonna kill you, you bastard!"

"Hey!" An agent scolds him.

"You killed him! He didn't kill anyone and you know it!" Pope yells along with JJ. He doesn't try to attack like the blonde, but he makes sure to get as close to Shoupe as possible.

Shoupe sighs. "We're still looking for him, all right?"

"Pope. Pope, just stop!" Kie pleads. She grabs onto Pope's arm and pulls him closer into her body. "Please, stop."

When JJ proves he's calm, he pulls me into him and holds me tight against his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist and let myself fall apart for a second time. I cry into his shoulder, not caring about the snot or tears that will probably ruin his second best button down shirt. I grip onto him so tight that I wouldn't be surprised if my fingernails ripped holes into the fabric. He's the only reason I'm still standing on my two feet. I can't feel my legs.

"Pope...Pope!"

Mr. and Mrs. Heyward run into the tent followed by Kie's parents. All four of them run to their kids and pull them into their own family group hugs.

I watch even though the sight destroys me. Kie with her two parents. Pope with his. I observe the way they hold their children, kiss the top of their head, and tell them everything is going to be alright. Pope keeps mumbling about how sorry he is and Kie is weeping into her mothers neck.

They have that and I don't. Not anymore. It's all been ripped away from me like a toddler and chocolate they're not allowed to have.

But it makes me even more grateful for JJ. Even though I hate that he's in the same boat as me, I know I can always rely on him to be by my side. We have each other and even though it doesn't always seem like enough, it is.

There's nothing that I wouldn't do for this man. He's my light at the end of a dark and dreary tunnel. My guide in life to live it to the fullest without any regrets. My life partner that's going to make me the happiest girl on the island one day. I couldn't ask for anything more from the love of my life.

Mr. Heyward looks up from his family moment and holds out his arm for JJ and I to join. JJ and I take advantage of it and let Pope's parents hold us like a parent should, despite any hateful feelings they have towards us for leading Pope down this road with us.

My brother's gone and I don't know how to comprehend that yet. I don't know where life's going to lead me and the future went from being adrenaline inducing to absolutely terrifying. With Kie, Pope, and JJ by my side, I'm hopeful that I can get through pretty much anything.

JJ's my rock and my leader. I will love him until the universe physically pulls him away from me. With him, I'll take on life one day at a time. Each one will be a struggle, but I made a promise to John B that I refuse not to keep until the day I die.

I will take care of this. I will make sure Ward Cameron gets what's coming to him. And I will not let him take anything else away from me. Not even over my dead body.

Taglist: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @moniamaybank @realistic-breadstick @urbinoutfiters @jeeperky @brebear121 @x-lulu @freddymaybank @jjpouggues @lemur46 @is-it-really-a-secret @kkmikayla @folkloverr @alexa-playafricabytoto @jjxrudy @migilini @buckysbcrnes @rochyu @itsagurl @dazzlingnights

#jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x oc #outer banks rewrite

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atiny-piratequeen · 4 years

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Against the Tide: Tenth Voyage (Ch. 10)

Pairing : Poly Ot8

Genre: Heavy Angst, Action, Fantasy, Smut, Fluff

Rating: 18+

Tags: DemonPirate!Au, Supernatural, Eventual Poly Relationship, Violence, Blood, Elemental Powers, Past and Modern Day AU, Mythical Creatures, Character Death, Slow Burn, Happy Ending Endgame

Chapter Specific Tags: Repeated Main Character Death, Reincarnation, Emotional and Psychological Manipulation, Graphic Blood and Violence, Brief Mentions of Mental Health Concerns

Chapter WC: 10k+

A/N: There could be tags added later, especially if there’s something I write that potentially triggers my readers. The last thing I want is for that to happen, so please don’t hesitate to give me feedback if there’s something I write here you’d like me to tag.

**A/N: Thank you Riza @not-majestic-bluenicorn for helping me out with the tarot card readings, ilysm

Taglist moved to the bottom of the work. If you’d like to be added to the taglist for this or my other works, feel free to fill out the form here after reading the full post. AO3

Taglist

← Last Voyage Next Voyage →

The sound of Seonghwa’s screams from that night still haunts the crew.

They’re fortunate, Yunho thinks.

Though, he’d never say it aloud and Geb is kind enough not to call him out on the bitter, spiteful thoughts when they arise.

Anyway, the crew was fortunate.

Most of them are lucky that all they heard was the screams of their First Mate- no -their new Captain. The crewmembers below the deck and the ones unconscious didn’t have to deal with the sight of their captain, the one who held them all together, breaking down.

The fear on his face. The defeat. The pain. The terrified, yet resolute tone in his voice.

All that haunted them was the screams of the ex prince, which, coupled by an explosion of ice, creating a fortress of frost around them, was a beacon in the night for what had happened.

Yunho had to drag him out of the ocean. Nearly got stabbed doing so. It took an hour of Seonghwa diving into the depths, freezing everything around him and reaching fruitlessly before Yunho snatched him back to the surface.

He’d nearly been frozen and stabbed for his efforts and the crew watched on as Yunho pinned Seonghwa to the deck, thick vines keeping him still as he screamed and thrashed.

Just behind him, Mingi stood back with an unconscious San in his arms. Wooyoung was at his side, eyes wide as tears rolled down his cheeks while Yeosang leaned over the taffrail, emptying the contents of the dinner he’d worked hard to make into the ocean. Jongho still lay unconscious under the broken planks of wood in the hold, sea water soaking his clothes and Whiro noticeably absent from his skin for once.

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO! HONGJOONG! HONGJOONG!” Seonghwa screamed, his voice raw and cracking as he thrashed in Yunho’s arms.

None of them had ever seen the level headed ex prince fall apart like this. He bore his teeth at him, trying to wrestle his way free, freezing parts of his body to try and get Yunho to let him go. The sight of the raven-haired immortal coming apart at the seams broke everyone’s heart and Geb gently whispered into Yunho’s ear so he could settle Seonghwa down the hard way.

They weren’t getting anywhere like this.

So Yunho sighed and created a small flower near Seonghwa’s head, tears slipping down his cheeks. Seonghwa looked up at him, eyes bloodshot from crying.

“H-Hong-”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Small spores wafted out of the flower and slowly Seonghwa’s thrashing slowed down. He felt his body grow heavy as Yunho put his head in his lap, crying quietly as Seonghwa’s pitch black hair slowly went back to it’s natural blonde color.

“N...o...Hongjoong...putois…”

Yunho wished all that haunted him was the screams, and not the guilt of not being strong or fast enough to keep him from disappearing. That Hongjoong’s quivering, terrified voice didn’t knock around his head as much as the anguished howls of Seonghwa.

Unfortunately, that was all it was. Wishful thinking.

-x-

- I finally get what you've been saying

Now that we're knee deep side by side

The storm clouds are circling above us

As we struggle against the tide-

-x-

There are intricacies that come with warfare, the king knew these well.

Though, even he may admit that this was an... unfortunate miscalculation.

Getting to a point in Hongjoong’s mind where he was distracted enough for him to actually affect his powers was leagues more difficult than he’d ever let anyone know. For as much as he antagonized the pirate, the dragon inside would admit he had much more mental fortitude than he originally gave him credit for.

Stupid mortals and their useless sense of ‘love’.

Though, technically, he wasn’t a mortal anymore.

Whatever.

Regardless of what the little captain was classified as, the fight with the one called ‘Priscilla’ had left him in such a panic that the dragon was able to break through, tap into the core of their-no, his -powers, and snatch it from under him while he was fighting for everyone’s lives.

Disgusting.

He figured he’d distract the foolish captain long enough for him to kill him mentally and rid himself of the beast.

Oh, and sink that damned ship and rip it’s crew to pieces. For fun.

He’d never expected a curse to be placed on him because of his intervention. Not only did the she beast strip the captain of all of his knowledge of who he was and his crew, she had inadvertently banished the dragon to the farthest recesses of the captain’s mind.

As the king stood, he couldn’t see light in either direction.

He had to get back to the front so he could take control. He had to break out before the captain remembered and broke the curse. He could handle Pricilla later.

With a scoff, he turned into his dragon form and snorted.

A minor misstep. He could outsmart some stupid immortal wannabes and that grotesque bastard child.

Then, he’d create havoc.

For fun.

And revenge.

But mostly fun.

-x-

-I feel your grip firm on my shoulder,

But this fear in my head won’t subside,

They patiently circle around us,

As we hold out… -

-x-

“Do you see those men there? They hold your entire fate in their hands.”

Hongjoong panted, blood running into his eyes as his hair was pulled back roughly. On the other side of a clear glass bubble, he could see seven men in a room. There was a tall blonde man pacing. Every time his boot touched the floor, it would freeze before the ice melted.

There was a taller man holding onto two smaller men who were crying.

Something was said and the blonde turned suddenly, his body rigid. A buffer man stood between him and the group, reaching for something on his person. The blonde man crossed the room and took his hand, the tips of his fingers frosting around the man’s wrist as he glared at him, saying something.

Hongjoong couldn’t hear a word either of them were saying, nor did he care. He pivoted on his heel, elbowing the monstrous woman behind him in the face before he broke off into a run.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he figured if he ran far enough, screamed loud enough-

Something hard slammed into his back, knocking him forward. He rolled, his clothing soaked by the water as he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. When he looked up, a rabid dog was staring him down.

He screamed in terror and backed away, eyes wide.

Who was she? Why was she doing this to him? Where even was he?

Fangs sunk into his thigh before he was dragged back towards the woman, kicking and screaming.

A dark smile came to her face.

“Get real comfortable, little pirate. With how your sorry crew looks, you’ll be stuck here with me forever and ever~ You’re here because of them, at the very least, you should know that they’re the reason you’re here.”

-x-

- Oh, father why have they forsaken me?

You warned me that they would,

The curse is passing down the bloodline,

Misspoken and misunderstood.-

-x-

“Seonghwa, all I’m saying is we can try it out-”

“We’re not calling that woman!”

Jongho pursed his lips, annoyed at the older immortal raising his voice at him, while Wooyoung flinched and whined behind him, sitting with Yeosang in Yunho’s arms as the two of them cried.

“What else are we going to do? How else do we start? We don’t even know what happened to Hongjoong fully or where that witch took him!” the Maori man snapped back.

Seonghwa paced like a caged animal, but eventually scoffed, admitting temporary defeat.

“Fine. Call her.” He hissed. Jongho eyed him for a moment before reaching for the feather dangling from his hip. Whiro curiously shifted along his skin, but Jongho focused on the feather, holding it out in front of him.

“Hyuna!”

Seonghwa and the others stood and waited.

And waited.

And waited….

And...waited….

“Why...isn't she coming?”

Seonghwa’s nostrils flared in anger before he barked out a laugh.

“Oh, look at that. She’s not coming . You wait around for her and we’ll never find Hongjoong. Right now, we can start by finding out who fucking stole that fucking staff.” He hissed.

The temperature in the room drastically lowered as ice cold grey eyes scanned over everyone in the group.

They lingered on some more than others.

“It wasn’t me. Don’t stare at me like that.” Mingi’s voice was hurt as he looked down at the floor. Seonghwa’s jaw ticked.

“I didn’t say it was you.” He stiffly informed him.

“You didn’t have to. I was raised around Bella Rose, I know an accusatory look when I see it. It wasn’t me.” He muttered, his voice quieter. San noticed the clench of his fists and the tears welling up in the boatswain’s eyes and moved to place a hand on his back. Seonghwa clicked his tongue, keeping his eyes on the duo. Yeosang began to hiccup through his sobs in Yunho’s arms, so the man stood, catching Seonghwa’s attention.

“I don’t...think that should be our top priority. Not right now.”

“I disagree. One of you stole the staff, and Hongjoong is gone now. That seems pretty damn important. Which one of you did it?” He spat, malice dripping from his voice. Even Jongho flinched back, his brows pulled together. Whiro shifted along his skin and tutted before lifting upwards.

Jongho moved to reel him in, but he was met with more than the usual amount of resistance and Whiro’s voice in his head.

‘For once, trust me, kid.’

Jongho pursed his lips and let Whiro form into a mirror image of himself aside from the blonde hair, red eyes, and ta moko. He rolled his shoulders and looked at Seonghwa, who looked unimpressed and fed up before anything even left the fragmented god’s mouth.

“If you’re going to talk shit, save-”

“Nah, you’ve said enough the past few days. Shut up and listen for once, prince.”

Seonghwa snarled, but Whiro ignored him, keeping his thick arms crossed as he spoke. Even Jongho looked on curiously as Whiro continued.

“What exactly are you gonna do with that information? Hm? Hurt one of them? Kick them out? Is that what the old captain would have wanted?”

Seonghwa looked taken aback-and he wasn’t the only one.

Seven pairs of eyes watched Whiro in shock.

“Whoever stole it doesn’t matter right now. What matters right now is whether you like it or not, you’re the captain now. From what I understand after Jongho and I got knocked the fuck out, you were told to protect this ship and it’s crew. Last time I checked, this temper tantrum you’re throwing isn’t protecting shit, not even yourself.”

“Am I not allowed my hurt? My anger? Hongjoong was...Hongjoong was my first love, he saved my life-”

Whiro rolled his eyes.

“Listen, I’m stuck here in this body for all of eternity and I feel what he feels,” He jabbed his thumb in the direction of a shocked Jongho before he kept talking. “Get your shit together. Stop your sniveling, and start being the leader the shortstack knows you can be. The kid is strong. He may have lost this, but at one point, he had eight spirits inside of him and didn’t fall completely to ruin. Instead of doing the exact opposite of what he said to do and tear this crew apart, wipe your nose, wash your face for fuck’s sake, and go find the shortstack. He needs you, all of you. It’s been a week and we’re still in Greece. I’ll give you a day or so longer to get those tears out before I expect all fucking seven of you to quit bitchin’ and start searchin’. Do I make myself clear?”

Seonghwa blinked before he ran a hand through his hair.

“Gods, is it that bad that the literal God of Evil is trying to help?”

“Yes, actually.” Whiro responded without missing a beat, drawing an involuntary laugh out of some of them.

“I’m stuck to Jongho for all of eternity. I’d rather not to deal with all of these stupid ass gushy ass emotions normally, but since I have no choice now, I’d rather we pull ourselves together. Oh, and when I get my hands on that serpentine bitch, you can all step aside. I’ll take care of her myself.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, but turned to the group, sighing as he bowed himself down.

“I...I’m sorry.” There was more sitting on his tongue, but that was all he said for the time being, turning to leave. Once the sound of his boots on the wood retreated down the hall and out of earshot, everyone let out a relieved sigh, turning to look over at Whiro.

“Holy shit. You helped us.” San muttered.

Whiro cocked a brow.

“Helped you? Please. I’m just tired of the back and forth and even ol’ Jongie boy here is getting affected by all this more than I’d like, for us to share a body. I helped myself, nothing more.” It was a lie, and all of them knew that much, but no one called him on it. Before he disappeared into Jongho’s skin, however, he did have something else to add.

“Though, my words will only light the fire under his ass and distract him for so long. You all seem content not knowing who took it, and that’s strange to me, but whatever. I suggest you all find the pipsqueak captain before blondie starts getting in his own head again. I can’t assure you all I can step out of Jongho every time Seonghwa becomes overwhelmed with anguish. I put these emotions in the world, I know their power. You don’t want the ice prince coming after you because most of you won’t be able to stop the rage that kid has inside from this. So find him. And quit feelin’ so damn sorry for yourselves.” With that, Whiro settled back onto the skin of Jongho’s arms.

Everyone glanced at each other before standing to go to their own respective rooms except Yunho, since they had gathered in his room.

As one of them left, his shoulders slumped lower than the others, his heart thundering in his chest.

‘I’m sorry I took it...I’m so sorry, I didn’t know...I didn’t know it would be this way, please forgive me, I just-’

-x-

-We're losing light

And strength of will

The darkened depths beckoning still

And we hold on

Against the tide-

-x-

Dawn pursed his lips.

“The pirates called for you. Should we get going?”

Hyuna lifted her head from the tub of water she was mostly submerged in.

“Can’t. They’re in Greece. If I stepped foot in Greco-Roman territory again, Zeus would surely come down from Olympus himself to strike me down. He’s still bitter I didn’t just accept my role as the harbinger of evil to mankind and then die off like the toy he created me to be. Whatever the boys need me for, I’ll just apologize next time they call on me. I’m sure it’s nothing. Besides, the last time they called me, I got my ass kicked. They’ll live if I just take a rain check this once.” Hyuna pouted from the tub before sinking back into the water, her inky hair making the water seem like it was pitch black.

Dawn watched her for a moment before humming and turning to sharpen his sickles.

Maybe she had a point.

-x-

-Beneath the storm and left to fight alone

Remember son, you're reaping what you've sown

Under the waves and sinking like a stone

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

When Lloyd answered the door that one cold night in January, he wasn’t expecting his son on the other side of the door. His lips parted in surprise.

“Jesus it's cold, Lloyd, why is the door op-YUNHO!”

Yunho laughed through his tears as Robin shot out from behind Lloyd, nearly knocking him down as he hugged him tight. His dreads, though graying, were much longer than the last time Yunho saw him, and he couldn’t help the big smile that crossed his face as the sound of thundering footsteps followed by excited screams pierced through the night air.

The smell of sapodilla and of Barbados lilies flooded his nose with the smell of cerasee clinging to Robin’s clothes.

Before he knew it, he was crying, relieved to see all four of his parents in good health.

Lloyd observed them with a small smile on his face, before he noticed the men standing just off behind him.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Lloyd, one of Yunho’s fathers. My partners will introduce themselves once they’re finished hugging the daylights out of our poor son...though...there seems to be more of you than last time, and I don’t see the captain…?”

Yunho tensed immediately, and it didn’t go unnoticed by his parents. Mei pulled away first, noticing the wobble of Yunho’s lip and Valeria cupped his cheeks.

“Ay, lad...what’s wrong baby?”

“I’m...I’m the captain now.” Seonghwa spoke, though he didn’t meet any of their eyes. Robin pulled away, as well, and Yunho sighed, rubbing his arm.

“I...I came home because we need some help.” He murmured.

All four of them exchanged a look before Lloyd stepped aside.

“Come inside from the cold, boys. Mei will brew some tea, and you can explain what happened.”

-20 years Later-

Mingi sat in silence as he sat in a cathedral. He had taken some time away from Yunho’s island to visit another, picking up a few books to read from a shop on curses and the like. Was it the most ideal place to be reading something like this? Most likely not, but he had to do what he needed to.

The crew had stayed near the Caribbean Islands, doing their absolute best to find somewhere, anywhere to start.

It was stifling, with tensions so high. Some members from the original crew had either moved on or passed away trying to help Seonghwa and the others locate Hongjoong, and the blonde captain had been adamant about not bringing new members in.

There...was no love lost between the seven of them, Mingi liked to think, but he’d be lying if he said Seonghha hadn’t put up a wall between all of them and himself. After Whiro put him in his place, he seemed to mask his true anguish and hurt, and they all could tell it was taking a toll on him, though he always put on and front when he was around them.

He was the leader. The captain. He had to keep himself together, lest they all fall apart. Hongjoong trusted him to do this much. To protect them. If that meant suppressing his own emotions for the betterment of the crew, so be it. It wasn’t like it was something he didn’t know how to do already.

He was raised as royalty, next up for the throne and title of a king. Kings couldn’t show any cowardice and weakness. Seonghwa could hide away his emotions well enough.

Though, that was a lie. They could all see it. The chips in his icy exterior. The tremble in his lips when he kissed them. The slight, barely there crack in his voice when he went to reassure them. Seonghwa was falling apart and masking it with layers of ice, but none of them had the heart to call him out.

Not when they were falling apart too.

An air of failure and guilt clung to them and no amount of sweet words from Yunho’s parents could hold it back for too long.

Speaking of parents...

Mingi’s fingers trembled on the page. Right. He had to return to the island soon. Lloyd had passed away of natural causes from his old age and they would be having a celebration of life for him tonight.

The four of them all but put a pause on their work to help out with locating Hongjoong, studying everything from mythology, to curses themselves.

For two decades, they tirelessly helped them, and Mingi was forever grateful. Honestly, it was all four of them that kept the boys from completely losing hope. From the Irish, foul-mouthed tongue lashings they (lovingly) got from Valeria, to Robin taking their mind off of it with teaching them capoeira, to Mei gently telling them Korean folktales over cups of tea when the stress was too high, and finally, old Lloyd teaching all of them the way of herbal medicine and always lending an ear when they needed to vent.

The four of them had all but become the in-laws to the group, and Mingi was forever grateful.

“You look troubled.”

Mingi jolted, closing his book as a nun walked up to him. Mingi scooted over as she sat beside him, placing her hands on her lap as she looked forward past the pews to stare at the beautiful organ at the forefront of the hall.

He subtly hid the book behind his thigh, clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry, I just needed somewhere quiet to read and-”

“You’ve been staring at that page for half an hour. Either that passage is really good, or you’re troubled.” She laughed lightly. Mingi stared at the side of her face. His brow furrowed.

Why did she seem so familiar…?

“Would you like someone to lend an ear? We have a confessional, or I could just listen.” She offered, kind brown eyes staring into his own. He lowered his gaze to his hands and sighed.

“I’m just...looking for someone close to me. They were taken away and I don’t know if I can find them or where to start.” he muttered. The nun tilted her head before crossing her feet at the ankle, sitting up straighter.

Mingi expected her to mention God, they were in a place of worship, after all.

“I think you should take time to clear your heart and your mind. You’re very troubled and you won’t be able to focus on your objective when you are so conflicted. Life...throws lots of hurdles at you. Take time to catch your breath and don’t be afraid to ask for help. You can be surprised how asking different people for advice will steer you in the right direction. Sometimes you need to take a step back and look at it from a different angle. Remember that, and I hope you find your friend.” She smiled and stood up, waving to Mingi as she turned to leave.

“Wait!”

She paused.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry if this is...a weird question, but what is your name, Sister?” He inquired. She blinked in surprise before sending him a kind name.

“Mine? My name is Sister Gracie.”

-x-

Seonghwa stood in front of a mirror, looking at his reflection. His jaw was clenched tight as he wiped his eyes. He had to pull himself together. Two decades and they haven’t found him yet.

He looked into his own grey eyes, his voice tense.

“I’m not giving up on you. I’ll never give up on you. I’ll find you, mon petit putois.” he muttered, adjusting the buttons to his shirt.

What he couldn’t tell, in a plane beyond the one he was standing in, was Hongjoong was looking back at him.

Panicked fists slammed against the invisible aquatic wall that separated the two of them.

“Hey! Hey!! I’m screaming at you, please!” Hongjoong looked behind him, finding something slithering in the depths of water behind him. Bubbles erupted from his mouth as he screamed louder, his voice getting raw as he reached desperately for the vision of the blonde man. He pressed his palm to the man’s image, tears in his eyes.

“ Please! I’m screaming, I’m begging! Why, why can’t you hear me?! Help me!”

A thick tentacle wrapped around his waist, pulling him roughly. Hongjoong scrambled, pressing both hands to the barrier. A laugh echoed from behind him before he was snatched back, away from the image of the blonde man.

In the guest room, Seonghwa placed a palm on the cool mirror, eyes downcast.

“I’ll find you. No matter how far you are, Hongjoong.”

-x-

-Beneath the storm and left to fight alone

Remember son, you're reaping what you've sown

Under the waves and sinking like a stone

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

He can feel it. Every time he dies. Every time he’s reborn and has a different name.

~1668, the first death after the curse was placed on him, he’s trampled by a horse.

1690, he can feel his throat closing after a fatal allergic reaction.

1712, an accident while trying to help create the first working steam engine.~

Hongjoong feels it all. It doesn’t help, the she-beast likes to toy with him. Sometimes she lets him roam free, in the vast expanse of...wherever he was trapped in. He had no concept of the passage of time anymore while he was in here. Everything felt...stalled and floaty. The woman told him he had been there for almost a century, in her clutches, but he paid it no mind.

That was absurd.

~1734, flash, then it’s gone with a lightning strike.

1756, huddled up for warmth, only to die by the morning from exposure getting lost in the mountains.

1778, blood loss from a carpenter accident. He was a careless man in this particular life.~

Sometimes she leaves him alone. For very long periods of time. He doesn’t know if he prefers that or not. On one hand, her torture was agonizing, between the way she’d wound him, leaving him on the brink of what surely should have been death, but unlike his selves on the outside, he couldn’t die in here.

No, he had to slowly power through the pain, slowly heal in this god forsaken place, and then she’d come back, and start all over.

He envied the other ‘hims’ on the outside. They got to live lives, all of which unfulfilling and mostly in poverty, but they still got to live them, and then they all died on November 7th, only for the piece of his soul to be cast away to another part of the world, into a newborn and reborn once again.

Then the cycle continued. He watched it all from this space. His lives, his deaths, over and over again.

The woman never called him anything other than cruel names and ‘Captain’, though he had no idea of what anymore.

Hell, he was pretty sure he’d forgotten his own name while trapped in here.

~1800, a casualty in the Quasi War.

1822, a fall from a moving locomotive.

1844, a fatal encounter with a wild boar.

1866, a mine shaft collapse.~

When he’s alone for decades at a time, he feels a bit of his sanity slip. Like he’ll never get out of this place. Like he’ll be here for all of eternity. Sometimes, he lays on his back, with his eyes closed for as long as he can, and waits.

Nothing ever happens, but sometimes it's easier to just...exist. Rest his eyes and his tired body. He hasn’t given up. Not yet, anyway, but sometimes it's better for him to just... be.

He’ll never admit to that woman that sometimes he looks forward to her arrival when she comes back from leaving him for so long, just because her presence grounds him into reality.

Or, rather, whatever hellish reality he’s found himself in at her hands.

At her hands, and as he looks out at the bubble she forces him to look at, finding those same seven men. Or, rather, two of them, this time.

They’re in Paris, the one with the dimples has an arm around the other one’s waist, muttering something into his ear. He nudges him before a tender smile comes to his lips and the two share a kiss before disappearing into a hotel room.

The brunette looked away, not sure why he was made to follow these people along though his time here. She always sneered in his ear that they were to blame, that they were the key to getting him out, that they were all happier without him and had forgotten him at this point.

She never showed him the seven of them tirelessly searching for him. He didn’t even know how hard they were working. She carefully picked out the rare moments they took time to themselves to catch their breaths and try and stabilize themselves, painting them as people who didn’t have any sense of urgency or care in the world.

The cook who made large meals with a big smile on his face. The inseparable duo, always attached at the hip, in each other’s space, bringing love and comfort to one another. The tall man with his nose in the books, glasses perched on his nose as he spent days engrossed in his books. The other tall one, filling out his notebooks with whatever hasty, nearly illegible sprawlings came to him as he sat amongst plants. The rugged one with the curious markings on his arms and legs that sometimes shifted and formed some dark being. Hongjoong would be surprised, but he had an aquatic beast breathing down his neck with tentacles for legs and rabid dog heads extending from her waist, so he would be lying if he said he was truly surprised.

The only one that never looked like he was relaxed was the blonde. Pricilla didn’t show him for long, but whenever he was in the background of those visions she’d hand picked for him, he looked like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. An air of guilt and anguish always settled underneath whatever expression he happened to have on his face, and it always made Hongjoong tilt his head and gave him a small flicker of hope.

~1888, a fall during the construction of a new building.

1910, a stage accident during the production of a play.

1932, burned alive saving a child from a fire.

1954, starvation.

1976, a hostage, taken out in an unsuccessful negotiation.~

He’s exhausted. He wonders if Pricilla is too. Doesn’t it get exhausting to do this to someone? Was what happened that led him to this point really that bad?

He watched his soul go into another body, sitting down and watching this one grow up. Quite the rebellious one, this version of himself. From his mullet, to the dark makeup around his eyes and the piercings littering his ears.

The trapped man watched him, grateful Pricilla had chosen to leave him alone for the time being.

He looked at a calendar on the wall behind the other him as he walked by one day, spotting the ‘1997’ on the wall.

Ah, only a year left until he’d die and another incarnation of him would come.

One day, as the other him is looking in the mirror, the trapped soul stands and stares at him. He knows he looks like hell, though he’s grateful Pricilla never showed him what he looked like. Hell, at this point, he wasn’t sure if these versions of ‘himself’ were really him, or if it was all just an elaborate lie.

“I’m right here. I’ve been right here. You’re lucky, living on the outside. You don’t even know I’m here, do you? You can’t see me, they never can.” He muttered bitterly.

The man on the other end paused the application of his makeup, his cut brow twitching.

“I can hear you. I liked it better when you were just some weird, fucked up version of myself in my dreams, though. I have enough on my plate without worrying about if I need to see a shrink for voices in my head.”

He froze.

“You can hear me?! You can hear me, really?!”

The other him narrowed his eyes.

“Jesus, you’re loud. Yes, I can hear you.”

He stared wide eyed at himself and for the first time in centuries, he had a flicker of hope. He wasn’t sure what changed, but for once, he got the fire in his whole body to get up and fight with his whole body once more.

-x-

-You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

“You still haven’t forgotten the pirate from Delphi?”

Grey-ish blue eyes opened slowly and looked up at a pair that were identical.

“I could have done something, Tem.”

A small hum came from her lips as she crossed her legs and stared at him. She reached over, smoothing down his blonde hair before she pulled him into a hug.

“Why do you cling onto that immortal? He was only with you for but so long.”

“He made an impression. The way he spoke of his family and his crew, it was honestly the most genuine and pure emotions I’ve seen in centuries, and still, I haven’t quite seen anything like it.” he muttered.

He was met with a small hum.

“So, centuries later, several incarnations of him later, and you still want to step in and help? Is it because of Hyacinthus?”

He pursed his lips, looking down at her collar, biting his lip.

“I-”

“He’s gone, Apollo. But I see this means a lot to you. Father and Uncle have their hands tied with their...ugh...escapades, so I doubt you’d find much resistance. I can...I can try and help you. I hate to see my brother like this.”

Blue eyes widened and he pulled back.

“Artemis-”

“I said I can try . You and I, there is only but so much that we can do. This may even require you to step out from Olympus, out from our domain, and into the domain of other deities. Some of them may not be too privy to actually help out. Our father hasn’t left the greatest of impressions on the other sky deities and they tend to run the show. But, I will try for you.” She kissed the top of his head and sat back.

“We should get started. We should look into this curse a bit more. If it was our...darling cousin that put the curse on the man, I wouldn’t be surprised if she put in some hidden stipulations.”

He stood, eyes determined.

“Right, then. Let’s get to work.”

Artemis smiled and led him out of the room.

“Let's start by talking to the Fates. Maybe they can tell us where we can start.”

-x-

-We're slowly losing ground

And hope is harder to maintain

When all the prayers we've prayed

Feel lost like tears in the rain-

-x-

The king snarled, exhaustion pulling at his form.

Really, how fucking long had he been there? Was he even going in the right direction? Which way was up or down?

The heavens themselves wouldn’t save that damn beast of a woman when he got to the front of the pathetic pirate’s mind. He swore it on his own pride and honor, he would revel in breaking her in half.

Then those incompetent ass pirates. He was certain if they had gotten to the kid sooner and broke whatever curse was inflicted, he would’ve already been at the forefront of the captain’s mind once more.

Instead, he was here, swimming in the inky blackness of this idiot’s mind, unsure if he was even-

“-member me?”

He blinked, hearing an echo. His scaled head snapped up, pausing momentarily.

Was that…?

“I have dreams, yes. Of past ‘mes’, I guess. You’re really kind of persistent.”

“I’m sorry, I just...I need you to remember fully who you are, who we are. You’re the first one of me that can see and hear me. I think maybe...Maybe we can break the curse?”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

The king’s fangs glinted as he looked towards the sound of the voices.

“F i n a l l y.”

-x-

-The waters pulling down

The moon's eclipsing the sun

The ending that we knew would come

Has finally begun-

-x-

Joong wasn’t much.

He lived his life poor and disinterested in life. His only friend was a fortune-telling, self proclaimed sun witch, and his only real interest in life was his motorcycle.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The dreams that plagued him since he was a child, of past lives and their subsequent deaths, none of it interested him.

They, like this persistent voice in his head for the past year, harping on a ‘curse’ or whatever, were just an inconvenience. He hadn’t heard from the ‘other him’ in a while, so maybe it was just an illusion from staying up late too many nights or something.

Either way, all this talk of mythical creatures and curses was truly a bother.

“Ah, you’re here. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

He ducked under the beaded curtain of the fortune telling shop, sitting across from a gorgeous woman with feline eyes.

“I told you I’d come, Siyeon. It is your birthday.”

Siyeon smiled softly and reached for his hands, gently rubbing her thumbs along the back of them.

“Yeah, but you never let me read your cards.”

Joong shrugged a shoulder, running a hand through his sandy brown mullet.

“Yeah, well. Happy birthday, how do you want me to do this?” He inquired. She laughed and pulled out a beautiful deck of tarot cards.

“You can shuffle the cards. Pull three of them and place them in a triangle formation and flip them one by one for me, okay?” the witch seemed excited about him participating, so he sent her a small, kind smile. He didn’t quite believe in any of this, but Siyeon was someone incredibly important to him, so just this once, he would go along with it.

He shuffled the cards, humming a birthday song to Siyeon while he did so before he followed her instructions and plucked three of the cards from three different sections of the deck, placing them in front of him in the shape of a triangle.

“Okay, flip them.”

Joong nodded and flipped the cards one by one.

Siyeon’s smile immediately fell.

A Reversed Emperor, The Tower, and the Three of Swords.

“Well that doesn’t look pleasant.” Joong tried to tease, but Siyeon’s expression didn’t crack. She looked up at him, brows pinched together. Joong shifted in his chair, the chains attached to his leather pants jingling from the move.

“Well? You gonna tell me what my fortune is, Si?”

“Right...right. Um...First is the Reversed Emperor. This is normally a symbol of power and being the king of kings, of sorts but um...reversed, there seems to be a lot of turmoil within you. You don’t have as much control as you’d like to believe you do, and it’s left you with a fake sense of safety and security.” She stared at the card before looking towards the second one.

“The Tower...there is chaos brewing for you, Joong. Chaos and destruction, and soon, something will happen that will absolutely turn your whole world upside down. The last, the Three of Swords, means heartbreak of some form is coming. It can be interpreted as something to do with the relationships you have, but it also can be in reference to some kind of terrible pain and suffering.”

“Well, that sounds welcoming.” Joong hummed, shrugging a shoulder. Siyeon looked at him, her face conflicted.

“I-”

“Hey, it's alright. Maybe your cards just don’t like me today.” He teased. Siyeon opened her mouth to tell him that wasn’t how it worked, but he put a hand over hers, sending her a disarming smile.

“Hey, it’s your birthday. Don’t worry so much about this stuff right now. I finally let you read my cards, so let’s go out to eat or something.” He offered. Siyeon resisted the urge to scold him and tell him to take what she had read more seriously, to caution himself, but instead, she only nodded and stood from her table.

“You’re taking me to the Latin place down the street, right?”

“Only the best for my best witch. See what I did there?”

“Because I’m a witch, hardy harr, let’s go nerd.”

-x-

“What do you mean there was a curse placed on him?! How long was it gonna take before you found me?!”

“We tried days after it happened! You didn’t respond!”

Hyuna paused, staring at Yeosang in surprise before she squinted.

“Wait...in Greece…?”

“Yes!”

“HE’S BEEN GONE FOR THAT-” a hand covered her mouth and she nearly bit San, eyes narrowing at him. He sent her a dirty look, wiping his hand off on his jeans before he looked at Dawn.

He was the calmer of the two of them, so they’d get answers from him.

“Hyuna can’t step foot in the Greco-Roman territories. Zeus would skin her alive. Since you all were in Greece when you called on her, she didn’t come for her own safety. And I imagine because of her not responding that time, none of you called on us again until right now?” the weasel spirit inquired.

Wooyoung, San, and Mingi shook their heads. The three of them had stuck together this time.

Somewhere at the turn of the 20th century, Seonghwa had suggested they start splitting up to try and find Hongjoong, since all seven of them looking in the same spot in such a vast and ever changing world was...impractical, at best. Downright idiotic at worst.

It made sense, but all of them knew that was the kindest way Seonghwa could tell them he couldn’t stand looking at some of them as much as he could anymore. They had begun to see the cracks once more. The barely concealed tick of his jaw when he thought no one was looking. The way he sometimes scanned their group when they were together, silently hoping whoever took it would come forward.

At the very least, he needed to know who did it. Whiro be damned.

Speaking of, he and Jongho had become exceptional trackers, which came as no surprise to the group. After all, Jongho had tracked down Hongjoong with the minimal information and tech that he had from before, so this was progressively getting easier.

He just needed to be faster. He’d found Hongjoong once, the last time, but by time he got to the city he felt Hongjoong was in, he could only stand by in wide-eyed shock as the sound of a gunshot rang out into the night.

He didn’t tell the others that part. He and Whiro would bear that one alone.

Regardless of their failures, they often grouped up on the 22nd year, to try to fruitlessly put together the pieces they needed to find him this time before his birthday passed and they inevitably lost their opportunity once more.

It was 1998 now. The 22nd year. He’s birthday was in a week and he’d die once more if they didn’t find him.

Hyuna frowned and looked at her box on her hip.

“I don’t have any spirits for searching, but I can find some. For...y’know, the next time.” She cringed. The boys did as well before hearing the door to the loft they were temporarily staying in open.

Seonghwa must have come home.

Hyuna gauged the looks on their faces and cringed.

“Right, then. I imagine this won’t be a good look for me to be here if that’s how all of you are looking at me. Dawn and I will go and I’ll get back to you as soon as I find a dog spirit suited for the job. I’m...I’m sorry.” She bowed her head down and the two of them disappeared as soon as the door opened.

Seonghwa stared at the trio for a moment before pointing behind him, his voice having lost nearly all of it’s usual sass and coyness.

“Come, I brought food.”

The three of them exchanged a look before trudging out of the room.

-x-

“Apollo, you really are impressive.”

Alistair, or rather, Apollo, wiped sweat from his brow and looked up from his spot on the floor before Hera, blood running down his temple as he tossed the head of some beast at her feet.

“Will you help me?”

“I haven’t seen you so determined to do anything since Hyacinthus’ death. And even Kaliopel is helping out-”

“I spoke with the Fates, I’ve spoken to Aunt Persephone and convinced Uncle Hades to offer up assistance in locating where the soul goes...even Nana Styx offered to pacify my father. I just need your help this once.”

Hera arched a perfectly curved brow.

“And if I say no?”

“I assure you, I can find someone else who will help me in my plight. This could be your chance to get rid of me, but if not-”

“I’m listening.”

Apollo exhaled, looking at the sun disk charm in his palm. He had retrieved it from the sea shortly after Hongjoong disappeared into the depths all those moons ago.

“I offer up half of my godhood for your assistance. All I ask is your assistance in distracting my father and for your aid in my wife and I finding him. It’s too late this time for us to intervene, but I think a soul toiling around in this cycle without the acceptance of the gods is already means enough for someone to step in. If he is out of our domain, I shall go to him. I just ask that you help me, this once. You’ll never see me again afterwards.”

Hera looked at him in genuine surprise.

“All this running, and it’s not for another consort?”

“No. It’s to break the curse no one authorized my cousin to make. Even Uncle Poisiden doesn’t seem to recall giving Scylla permission to do such a thing. It has caused conflict between him and Uncle Hades.”

Hera stared at him for a long while, looking at the offering he’d so graciously tossed at her feet. She tutted and stood, her sandaled feet being the only sound in the room as she descended the stairs to her throne. She plucked a peacock feather from her robe and pressed it to Apollo’s forehead.

“Get up off of your knees. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but your words and determination have appealed to me. I shall take part of your godhood in exchange for my assistance, but it shall be restored in full if you can complete your task. I will only help you once. If he dies again, you’re on your own.” She warned him before humming.

“I’ll even see about getting you some extra assistance.”

Apollo perked.

“Extra?”

“Don’t get too excited. It won’t be easy. We’ll see how determined you are. Go speak to Mnemosyne and her daughter Klio and refresh yourself with what you have missed. Then go.”

Apollo nodded and stood, a resolute look on his face.

“Thank you, Hera.”

“Tell anyone I was kind to you and I’ll find a way to kill you myself. Now go.”

Without another word, the Sun God turned on his heel and left, looking at the sun disk in his palm.

There was a lot of work to be done.

-x-

-You're reaping what you've sown

It's finally begun

You're reaping what you've sown

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

“JOONG! JOONG HOLD ON, PLEASE!”

The biker looked towards the sky, his body growing numb as he felt Siyeon’s hands shakily cup his face. Somewhere off to the side, his motorcycle lay in pieces.

So this was it? A car collision?

Ugh.

“Joong! Joong please!”

He knows Siyeon is yelling, but all he can hear is static. Above her head, he can see the sad reflection of himself, looking down at him.

Oh, so that’s where he was.

He stared at it for a long time before blinking slowly, letting out a terse laugh.

“Don’t have such a horrible look on your face. It’s only another life, right? You looked so hopeful. Find yourself again.”

Siyeon’s brows pinched together in confusion, but the other him’s eyes grew.

‘Find yourself again.’

In the depths of the eighth sea, between the planes of this world and the next, the captain grits his teeth and nods, swimming away from his dying form.

He couldn’t give up. It was a slow time coming, but he couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t let her win. Hell, he had even made a breakthrough with himself, something he couldn’t fathom happening before.

He was close. He was close to doing... something .

The king was also getting closer.

‘Pricilla’ had chosen to leave him alone for the first few years of his next life, it was nothing extraordinary. He was an orphan, lonely just like he had been for all sixteen of his lives before this one.

Everything changed in 2008.

“Melody, look!”

He swam to the edge, peering out.

What is this? Someone noticed him in the orphanage?

No one ever noticed him before.

“Hey there, buddy. Do you wanna come home with us? You and your siblings?”

The child frowned and looked at his feet, a small beret hiding most of his hair.

“I don’t have siblings.”

The massive man sent him a smile, tucking his hair behind his ear and as the spirit watched on, he could see he had lots of tattoos.

“You do now. If you’d like to come with us, Hongjoong.” He offered. The ten year old blinked.

“My name..isn’t…”

“George is a bit boring, don’t you think? I like Hongjoong better. It means you’re the center of the whole world, y’know.”

Hongjoong looked up at him, then the woman standing behind him who sent him a gentle smile as three other children clung to her dress, staring at him in anticipation. They looked desperate to get out of the orphanage and have a family.

A happy family.

Hongjoong smiled shyly and walked up to the grey-ish blue eyed man, gently squeezing the little harbor seal plushie he kept with him at all times. He stepped in front of the man, shifting from foot to foot.

“You won’t...you won’t throw me away, will you, mister? Not me and my friend Angel, will you?” He inquired, hugging the seal tighter. The man shook his head.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Hongjoong. Do you accept? Will you come with us?”

Hongjoong paused for only a second longer before he nodded, all but jumping into his arms with a wide smile.

The tall man’s arms closed around him and he smiled, picking him up before picking up one of the other children.

She stared at Hongjoong with wide eyes before smiling softly, her hair up in a ponytail.

“My name is Suzuka. I guess you’re my little brother now?”

Hongjoong nodded eagerly.

“Yes! My name is George-ah no...d-dad said my name is Hongjoong!”

The spirit of the captain watched on with tears in his eyes and disbelief.

Even he didn’t remember his name anymore, but somehow, when this man appeared, he felt a familiar sense of home and warmth when he uttered the name to the child.

The captain watched the child and his family (that word felt so new to him. Family. He hadn’t had a family in ages) grow together. He expected the worst. Expected the tattooed man and his wife to be demons. That had to be it, there was no way he’d have a happy life when the sixteen leading up to this point were so miserable.

They...never treated the four of them with anything other than the purest form of respect and love the captain can remember. He watched on, as the mother sang lullabies and told them stories before bed. As their father taught them how to play music, tattooed fingers working over a guitar, or the keys to a piano.

This...was honestly such a happy and energetic life.

He had friends and family. He smiled every day, got to perform on stages.

Hongjoong...was happy. For the first time in centuries, he was truly happy.

Years later, Pricilla returned, wrapping her limbs around him.

No, no, no, he couldn’t let it end. He couldn’t let the best version of himself die again.

So he turned and fought with all his might. He clawed and scratched and bit down on whatever he could.

No more, he was tired. He wanted to live, he just wanted to live!

“Captain! What’s gotten into you, hm? I haven’t seen such fight in your eyes in a while~”

He’d fight. Harder than ever before. He couldn’t let her win.

Hongjoong thrashes, slamming his fists against the wall. He can see himself, just beyond the water, blissfully unaware.

He’s laughing with his friends, celebrating new years as the calendar rolls over from 2019 to 2020. The captain feels his throat close slightly. This was the 22nd year. He was going to lose again, wasn’t he? He was going to lose his life again if the curse wouldn’t be broken.

Sometimes he screams at his own reflection, hoping somehow he can hear himself. The last one, the biker named Joong, heard his voice. So maybe if he could get through to this one…

He needs to know, he has to find out who he is.

“Hello!? Can you hear me?! Hello!” He screams out to the college student.

“Remember them, remember yourself!” He shouts. It's almost funny in a tragic way. He in spirit can’t even remember the names of the men that held his fate in his hands. The seven men from before. He needed them to help unlock his memories. They were the key as much as he was, he thinks.

Golden eyes watch him, impressed. A clawed hand snakes around his body and squeezes his face so hard it hurts. He glares at the woman, his lips curled up into a scowl. She tuts at him, shaking her head.

“You’ve been fighting for so long, Captain. Wouldn’t it be easier to give up? They look close to calling it quits. How could they not? Centuries without their precious leader, their precious lover-” She spits the word out like a curse, but Hongjoong only pushes past her, swimming to the opposite side of the vast space. He can see the men, six instead of seven this time.

“You want to give up on him?!” Seonghwa snarled. Mingi’s nostrils flared in anger as he stood nearly chest to chest with the ex prince.

“I didn’t say that! I’m saying you need to slow the fuck down and breathe for a bit. None of us have gotten anywhere like this. We’re tearing ourselves apart like this!” He hissed. Seonghwa grit his teeth, ice frosting over his fingers as he glared at him.

“None of this would even be happening if-” He stopped himself short, clenching his fists. Mingi glared at him.

“If what? If someone didn’t steal the staff? You keep bringing it up, you keep looking at me different than the others. You still think it’s me!”

Seonghwa lowered his gaze, but didn’t deny the accusation. Mingi clenched his fists so hard it hurt, before he raised his voice.

“I didn’t do it! How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t steal it?! Even if I did, do you think I wouldn’t have come clean by now?!”

“I never said you did steal it!” Seonghwa barked.

“You didn’t have to!”

The two of them began to argue and Jongho stood, letting out a sigh.

“Fuck this, we’re going for a walk.” He grumbled, sliding on a leather jacket. Yeosang watched him in concern before standing to retreat into the kitchen, five fox tails swaying behind him as he began cooking. Yunho sighed and laid on the floor out of the way. He was too tired for this today. Geb rumbled in silent agreement while Wooyoung shook in San’s grip.

“Cheese, c’mon boy.” Jongho beckoned and a black and tan Jindo ran up to him, nuzzling his thigh and letting him put a harness on before he walked out, slamming the door with a bit of force behind him.

Whiro rumbled in his head.

“You got the cloth for the dog, right?”

“Never leave home without it.” Jongho held out a small cloth, dangling it under Cheese’s nose. The dog was given to them by Hyuna as a search dog for Hongjoong. He was still young, but with a bit more training, Jongho was sure he’d be a good supernatural sniffing dog.

At least, he hoped he could sniff Hongjoong out before November. They were running out of time.

Seonghwa and Mingi continued arguing and the captain screamed from beyond the invisible walls, pounding on the wall desperately.

“What are you doing?! Stop it! Stop arguing!! Please!!!! Find him! Find me!” He screams, watching Seonghwa and Mingi argue. San and Wooyoung are holding each other, eyes downcast. Yeosang is busying himself in the kitchen, distracting himself from the argument. Yunho is curled up on the floor, an arm over his eyes as he keeps himself from intervening.

Hongjoong felt his heart sink, biting his lip as he watched the men. The hand comes back, fingers wrapping around his ankle as she pulls him down like she’d done time and time before.

Deeper, deeper into the eighth sea, the sea of time itself.

Deeper, deeper into the abyss.

Hongjoong reaches out at the wall, tears rolling out of his eyes and washing away with the salt water.

“Please, don’t give up on me.”

-x-

-This sorrow weighs down on my shoulders

This fear is getting harder to hide

You’ll leave me alone in this darkness

Left to hold out

Against the tide-

-x-

Jongho sighs as he bundles up. It was March, so the chill of winter still clung to the air in South Korea. Whiro stretched across his skin under his jacket, providing an extra layer of insulation that none of the locals could see.

Amazing how close the two of them had become.

Cheese tugged at the leash, barking once before pulling him forward. Jongho blinked before jolting in surprise at how persistent the dog was.

“Cheese, what the hell-”

Cheese ignored his protests and pulled the Maori man into a crowd of people. He was about to scold him when he heard a voice.

His heart stopped.

“People want it

People dream about it

It can be different to every individual

It can complete us

Or it can destroy us

And it can change the world

People call it 'treasure'”

Jongho’s lips parted in surprise as he watched a man walk forward on a stage, his hair a sandy brown color in a mullet. He held a microphone to his lips as a few other people and even some kids moved around behind him. It seemed to be a street performance of some kind.

Jongho had his eyes focused on the small brunette the whole time.

“The sound of wind blowing from the horizon

The warmth of the sun hitting the ocean waves

The vibration of sand beating like the hearts of youth

We're at the starting point of this long journey”

“Holy fucking shit, kid.” Whiro’s voice snapped him back into focus as he tugged at his hand. “Get the phone, Jongho! Close your mouth and get the phone!”

Jongho shakily plucked his phone from his pocket and held it up, eyes wide as he recorded, nearly dropping it.

On the stage, the brunette dressed in modern clothing that was clearly supposed to resemble pirate attire, walked around the stage, smiling at some of the kids and some of the other five adults on stage.

“The freezing winds may make us shiver

The heat of the sun may make us thirsty

The vibrations of the sand may swallow us

But we'll never stop.”

The group grew closer to him, and Jongho watched a woman with feline features raise her microphone next, posing prettily.

“Gold~”

A man with piercings through his eyebrow and bottom lip put an arm on her shoulder, speaking into his own microphone.

“Eternal life~”

A blonde man with a distinct accent put an arm around the brunette’s shoulder, grinning at him before he winked at the crowd, sending them a smile that made his eyes crinkle.

“Honor~”

A slightly shorter man with a deeper voice wiggled under the blonde’s arm and grabbed his mic, his accent matching his as he chimed out his own line in a deep baritone.

“Love~”

A person with pink hair with yellow and blue chalk highlights eagerly bounded up behind them, all but throwing themselves onto the brunette’s back in the center, their long legs stretching outward.

“Fame!”

The six of them laughed before the brunette in the center held his microphone up to his lips.

“It doesn't matter what you dream for,

So let me ask you

What.is.your.treasure?” he extended a hand out and for the first time in centuries, as the sound of people clapping around him echoed through his ears, tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Hong...joong…?”

“Will you join us?”

------------Taglist-

@kimnamshiks @angel0taiyo @atiny-dazzlinglight @phasephoenix @eversionic @itsatinyworld @prettyjoongs @unatempesta-dipensieri @lonely10vely @yunhosblackgf @not-majestic-bluenicorn @moonmin-miya @girlcarma @kpopthingzsblog @delphinium3000 @just-a-starfruit @mireyth @skmoonchild @queen-of-himbos @allthestarsrcloser @sneaky-ash @im-what-iam @thereal-smolchild @arohatiny @smallfrye @atinyteez @takitaro @hunnibxbe

#fie writes #against the tide #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #kpopuniversenet #atzinc #kconnet #AtT Ch.10 #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ot8 #ateez ot8 #member x member #ateez ot8 fic #polyteez #hey look i posted and its not 3am look at that pls reblog if you like it thx ily

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greekgeek21 · 3 years

Text

Percy Jackson and the Avengers: Convergence - the avengers are humbled

Welcome back! I know it's been awhile but I hope I didn't lose too many of you. I just wanted to say thank you for all of the support I've been getting on all platforms. Honestly, I did not expect this story to take off the way it did.

Now that that's over, I'm gonna clarify something for SOME PEOPLE. I started writing this last October, which means that I have absolutely no interest in going back over already-edited work just to change a minor detail some people seem to find maddening. This chapter, I can say for certain, was written during December, so I don't always remember what happened. Okay?

This chapter is kinda just one big fluffy piece but I love it so no hate pls.

Now please remember to comment, like, follow me, and reblog!

- you author

Ω ♆ Ω

"Okay! Assignments...Annabeth and Piper, go with Widow, Frank with Hawkeye, Hazel and Leo with Tony, and Jason and Percy with Bruce and I. Everyone okay with that?" Steve said.

"Yep."

"Got it, Cap."

"This should be fun..."

The heroes separated into their groups and stood, waiting for more orders from Captain America.

"As I said before, this is just to further evaluate and document your abilities. It shouldn't take long. That's it, get to work," He ordered, turning and walking towards the sparring pads with Jason, Percy, and Dr. Banner.

They were back on the training floor for the evaluations, after an uneventful lunch break. Well, unless you count Frank's disgust with the attempt at proper Chinese food as eventful.

Ω ♆ Ω

Despite them being on the sparring mats, Percy and Jason would not be sparring. Even to someone who doesn't know the full extent of the sons of the Poseidon and Zeus' relationship, it's pretty obvious that they should not be allowed to fight each other. Their personalities are almost exact opposites; Carefree vs Serious.

"Just show us something we haven't seen from you before, and then we'll build from there," Bruce told the teens.

Percy and Jason looked at each other expectantly, waiting for the other to begin. Their powers were similar in the way that they could get out of hand quickly. Neither of them wanted to be the reason that the tower lost power or got flooded. Zeus knows it would be a mess to clean up.

After a whole two minutes of waiting for them to get started, Steve let out a sigh, "Oh, for God's sake! Jason, you go."

"Umm...let's see here," Jason muttered under his breath, looking around the room for inspiration, "Oh! I got it!"

He positioned himself a couple of feet away from a practice dummy and held his hands together in front of him. Taking a deep breath and imagining his goal, he let sparks fly around his hands. He let them grow for a couple of seconds before slowly starting to separate his hands. While doing this, he made sure a line of electricity was stable between his hands. He kept separating his hands until he couldn't anymore, and then he slowly released his grip on the line from his left hand. He made sure to keep feeding the lightning rod so that it held form.

Meanwhile, on the sidelines, Percy, Steve, and Bruce were all watching with equal amounts of shock. Percy had never seen or known Jason could do this, and Steve and Bruce were completely new to all of this. Then, Jason proceeded to shock them further.

He made the line of electricity into a whip. He made a lighting whip.

Percy was so proud of his friend's imagination. It was almost enough to make a grown demigod cry...

Jason readied his whip and struck the practice dummy, slicing it completely in half. Then, he turned to his group, smiling and making the lightning dissipate. It should've been illegal how easy he made it look, in Percy's opinion.

"Dude! That was awesome! I didn't know you could do that!" Percy exclaimed, slapping the son of Zeus on the back with a proud, blinding smile.

No matter what it seemed like sometimes, Percy was the big brother of the Seven.

"Yeah! That was pretty good, son," Steve said, nodding his head in appreciation, "Now we only need to get that process sped-up and it will be an amazing asset in a fight."

"This means you could do so much more with your abilities, including maybe providing infinite power, which we have been searching for for decades! You kids are truly lucky to have these powers," Bruce rattled off.

Percy whispered to Steve, "Does he get like this a lot?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah. I tend to tune-out the sciency rambling and just focus on stuff I can understand. He had Tony if he needs to bounce ideas off of someone, anyway."

"Got it," Percy said, "I guess this means I'm next?"

He had thought about this a lot during lunch, and had decided to go into the exercise with the comfort and ease he had possessed using his powers before Tartarus, and see where he got from there. Like Annabeth said, it was all in his head. He just needed to believe that he had control, and he would get it.

Simple, in theory.

"Yep. I want you to copy Jason, but with water," Steve said.

He gave more specific instructions to Percy because he felt like he needed that. He was a leader, and leaders need to notice and know what their troops need. Percy needed specifics because he was cautious with using his powers, and he wanted to know exactly what was needed of him before going in. That way there is no possibility of him losing control.

Once again, only in theory.

"Okay, Percy... you got this," Percy muttered to himself, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and cracking his neck.

He shook his hands out once before readying himself in a slightly-more relaxed version of Jason's stance. But this time, he did not hold his hands together. Instead, he reached his hands out towards the bucket of water the Avengers had brought to the sparring mats earlier. Taking a deep breath, he felt the barely-there familiar tug in his gut before a tendril of water was rising from the bucket and reaching towards his outstretched hands. Percy willed it to wrap around his arms and hands, and then he slowly put his hands together like he had seen Jason do (he wasn't quite sure how he planned to make the whip yet, so this seemed like the best bet). Taking another deep breath, he started separating his hands, but keeping a solid tendril of water stretched between them.

He tried to move slightly faster than his cousin did, just because of the ever present, unconscious competitiveness ingrained between them.

Finally, he let go with his left hand and let the water form into a whip in his right. It kept shape, but was more flexible than the rod had been. Percy turned to the other practice dummy and whipped it twice, forming two straight slices right through the rubber.

Everyone in their group stood in shock, including Percy after he had deposited the water back in the bucket. He hadn't known he could use a whip.

Must be another natural demigod thing, he thought. Most weaponry came easy to him (except archery, of course).

It took a moment for them to recollect themselves, but Steve shook himself out of his stupor first, "That was...impressive, Percy. I didn't know you had such control over your powers."

The demigod in question shrugged modestly, "Yeah. I didn't really either, to be completely honest."

Jason surged forward and hung an arm around his friend, "Stop being so modest, Kelphead! That was amazing!"

Sure, Jason had done the same thing, but he hadn't gone through literal Hell and come back scarred forever, emotionally and physically. But mentioning that topic wasn't wise, so he stuck with just congratulating his older cousin.

"What else do you want us to do?" Percy asked Steve and Bruce, trying to move the attention off of him.

"Well...I guess just do a couple more small things with your powers and then we can be done. I think you've proved your point of not being newbies," he answered.

Percy and Jason smiled at each other once, then nodded at the Captain.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Okay, Frank, let's see what you got! Any special skills besides turning into animals?" Clint asked.

Frank shifted from foot to foot, "Well, I'm pretty good at archery, I guess. Better than my swordsmanship, anyways."

Clint smirked, "You guess? If you're going to be on this team, you need to be completely sure of your skills. So let's see what you can do."

Frank had grabbed his bow and magical quiver during lunch because he figured he would need it for something during this exercise, so he only had to sling the bow over his shoulder to be ready. The quiver was designed by Leo to never run out of celestial bronze and imperial gold arrows. The celestial bronze ones were normal, and the imperial gold were exploding. A combination of both metals would shoot out hardening foam (also designed by Leo) to stop monsters. Or in this case, people.

He set himself up on the first line on the archery range, and let the arrow fly. It hit the bullseye dead-on. Frank turned to look at Clint to find him raising his eyebrows in appreciation.

"Good. But I'm not impressed until I see you do that from a longer distance and on the move, so let's work our way up there, huh? I'm interested in seeing if we can finally have another good archer on this team," Clint said.

Frank smiled, "I've been doing this practically my whole life, so I'd hope I was pretty good by now. Plus, I've been in battle before, shooting on the move."

There was the newfound confidence that still baffled a certain son of Poseidon after a whole year. You go into the deepest parts of Hades with a shy Canadian Baby Man, and then miraculously you make it out and the kid is taller, buffer, and much more confident.

"Sounds interesting... Any war stories you care to share with the class?" Clint asked, intrigued.

Frank's happy expression steeled over, "I think I'd rather keep those to myself, thank you. Maybe another time."

Clint nodded, but you could see he wasn't going to let that go. Frank had made a mistake saying he had seen battle before. It was pretty obvious that the teens had, but he had just confirmed it, therefore furthering the Avengers' curiosity.

So, basically, he had screwed them over further and faster.

With a great sigh, Frank went aimed and shot another arrow, choosing to ignore the awkwardness that had formed between the two archers.

Ω ♆ Ω

Leo and Hazel were... unsure how to react to Tony's exercise, to say the least. They got over to their part of the room and their eyes immediately tunneled-in on the giant block of metal in the center. Nothing special about it besides the fact that it was black, and about four feet tall, and four feet wide. They weren't sure what to make of it.

Tony was beaming next to them, which was a sure sign of nothing good. It was pretty maniacal, too.

"Mr. Stark... what exactly are we doing with this?" Hazel asked.

Somehow, Stark's grin managed to widen even more before he answered with, "Oh, you know, a simple thing, really. I want to see something unique from both of you, so I brought this out of storage. I designed it years ago, not knowing what the hell I would be using it for, but it turns out my genius brain was just preparing me for this moment where I would evidently be training a bunch of teenagers... but anyway! This will mold to any specifications that I need it to, kinda like the LMDs. Just tell me what you're planning to do, and I'll program it to follow your needs."

Hazel raised her eyebrows at Tony's complete disregard for modesty. The others were not kidding when they said he was an arrogant mortal. She was even considering going all "I am your superior because of my divine blood" on him, but then she remembered that that would make her a huge hypocrite.

Leo, on the other hand, was starstruck. He was convinced that he could never come up with even half the stuff Tony invented. He was a true genius in every right. A role model of many Hephestus kids.

"So... who's going first?" Tony asked.

"I'll go!" Leo exclaimed, like an eager child vying for their father's attention.

"Great! That's the spirit! What're you gonna do?"

Leo thought about it, and then the perfect idea came to mind. It wasn't really using his usual extravagant and fiery powers, but it wasn't any less impressive. He wanted to impress Mr. Stark, and this was the way to do it.

"Make it the hardest safe to crack in the world," he answered, a, well, fire lighting up his eyes.

Tony was intrigued, that's for sure. It was pretty obvious what the kid was planning on attempting, but it would be just that: an attempt. Nobody could crack this safe. It was designed by himself personally to house some of his most secret projects for the Avengers. He was literally the only one in the world that even knew of its existence. There was no way Leo could pull off cracking that type of safe without years of preparation.

But, he still programmed the block to make itself into the safe. If anything, it would show these teens how not to underestimate Tony Stark.

"Okay, kid. Good luck," he said, and then whispered, "You're gonna need it."

Leo didn't comment on Tony's quieter remark, but he did smile wider at the prospect of a real challenge. Sure, he could come off as a little overconfident sometimes, but he really was smart and powerful when he tried. He just wasn't a serious child of Athena, he was a fun son of Hephaestus, and he would act as such.

Still, when the block turned into something he had never seen before, he took a deep breath, focused his mind on the task at hand, and got to work.

Tony was smiling wide over his shoulder, interested in seeing how far the kid could get, but little did he know, Leo had this under control. To someone who didn't know him, what he was doing would seem weird, but he was actually just listening to the machine. Yes, listening to it.

He had his ear pressed up against the safe, both hands pressed flat against it next to his head. Leo was already learning the mechanisms of it, and in no time, he would be able to tell the safe to open itself without even lifting a finger.

He was almost vibrating with excitement over how Tony would react. It was sure to be a show.

Sure enough, a little less than a minute later, there was a series of soft clicking heard before the light on the pad flashed green and the door was open.

Of course, it was empty, but Tony was still in shock. A sixteen year old kid had beaten his strongest security system besides JARVIS. It wasn't possible. There was no way that Leo had just cracked his safe.

"No. Not possible," he insisted, turning with wide eyes to stare at the demigod, who had a proud grin on his face.

"Yep, it is. I just did it. Were you not watching?" Leo said, channeling his inner-Percy for sass.

Tony so wanted to protest more, but he knew it was futile. Plus, having someone almost as smart as him around might be some fun. Bruce was always worrying whenever they worked together, and Leo gave off way different vibes.

"I was watching, still working on believing, though," Tony said, "That was some pretty cool shit there, kid. Care to tell me what it was?"

Leo said, "I just talked to the safe. It was a little harder to crack than some of the other ones I've done before, but I got through to it eventually. It was pretty strong. Good work on that design."

"Thank you... I guess," Tony said.

Tony couldn't remember telling Leo who had created the safe, but he figured he would get the same answer as before if he asked. Believing these kids' powers was a little difficult, especially when all of them defied the laws of any science. Tony was starting to think that they were Asgardians, with how they fought and everything.

"Well, let's move onto Hazel. We don't have all day," he said, turning to the daughter of Pluto, who had stayed to the side during Leo's entire turn, "What are you gonna do? It's gonna be pretty hard to follow up on that performance."

Hazel had had time to figure it out while she was waiting, so she answered right away, "I won't be needing the box for my turn. I just need you."

Tony gave her an incredulous look, "What do you need me for?"

"Just tell me a metal. Any metal in the world, and I'll bring it here," she answered.

Okay, Tony was done. There was NO WAY that was possible, and he knew it. He wasn't stupid. These kids were messing with him now.

"Seriously?! I'm not falling for that! You can't do that!" he exclaimed.

Hazel just gave him a knowing smile, "I get that a lot. But I always seem to prove those people wrong..."

Tony sighed, "Okay, sure. Let's do... Vibranium."

He kept a straight face on the outside, but on the inside he was smiling like a maniac. Vibranium could only be found in Wakanda, and they barely had any left. There was no way she could get it all the way here, even if there was any left.

Hazel nodded and closed her eyes, letting her powers search for the precious metal. She had heard of it before from some people in the Underworld. Apparently, it could only be found in a small country in Africa, so she had to widen her search.

It didn't take long to find some, but that was only because what she found was Steve's shield. She hadn't known that it was made of vibranium, and stored that knowledge away for future use. Then, she kept looking.

Soon, she found some and told a very small piece to come to her. You couldn't ask her how it reached all the way up through the tower, but she always just concluded that it was magic. It's the simplest solution.

When she opened her eyes, a content smile on her face, she looked up at Tony with expectation of a shocked outburst, only to find him looking expectantly at her. So he hadn't figured out what she had done yet, apparently.

"Look down," she instructed.

And Tony did. Only to find that a small rock of Vibranium was poking up from the floor. At first, he wasn't sure how to react, but then, he reached down to touch it, trying to make sure what he was seeing was actually true. But before he could put one finger on it, Hazel shoved him away.

"Don't pick it up! It's cursed, you idiot!" she yelled, but then her own face slacked in shock.

She hadn't meant to say that last part. It was the truth, but her powers could definitely be linked back to the gods. She was not going to be the one to let the secret slip. That was going to be Percy or Leo, if anyone.

"That's amazing," Tony breathed, openly staring in shock at the metal.

But before another second had passed, the rock popped back through the floor and was gone as quickly as it had come.

When Tony looked up at Hazel in question, all he got was a shrug in response. It wasn't safe to keep the metals lying around.

Tony physically shook the shock out of him, and said, "Alright. That was pretty impressive, I'll admit, both of you. We can be done for the day. I'm gonna go check out what some of the others are doing."

"Yeah, I'll do that too," Hazel said, turning to Leo. "What about you? What are you gonna do?"

"I think I'll try to help JARVIS find the bad guys," he responded. "I'm getting nervous just waiting for them to blow something else up."

While Tony was walking away, he yelled to Leo, "Don't break anything! Everything here costs more than everything you own!"

Leo wasn't so sure about that, considering the amount of celestial bronze he owned, but he didn't comment on it.

Ω ♆ Ω

Annabeth and Piper were hard to find an exercise for. Neither of them had very obvious superpowers (one didn't have one at all), in Natasha's opinion. She wanted to see how much the others would have to protect them if it came down to a fight of powers. Sure, she didn't have any abilities, but she had also been training how to make up for that almost her whole life.

So, if anyone could find a weakness in these two girls, it would be her, and Natasha was determined to find it.

"Okay girls, this shouldn't take too long. You're only throwing knives at moving targets. The trick is, you won't know when the targets will pop up. You'll be standing in the middle and holographic targets will form around you at random times, always speeding up. If you're as good as you say you are, you can handle this no problem," Natasha said, eyes piercing into Piper and Annabeth.

"Yeah, we got this," Annabeth shot back, standing proud. "I'll go first."

Natasha was not making it unknown that she didn't trust the demigods, and Annabeth was not going to let that continue. Only the "kids" knew what was really going on, so the adults needed to get in line with their way of doing things before somebody got killed. These people that they were hunting had already killed many people, so they knew they were capable of it. This makeshift group needed to be a well-oiled machine by the time they found the bad guys.

"Okay, just step into that square on the ground, and it'll begin. Piper and I will be stepping out of the range," Natasha said, grabbing Piper's arm and dragging her back about seven yards, "Let's begin!"

It seemingly came out of nowhere, the target. Annabeth had barely been able to grab some of the knives from the table next to her before it formed. It was an orange color, and very pixelated. As soon as she shot the arrow right through the bullseye, it exploded in a shower of orange pixels. She barely had time to let that sink in before another one popped up. They seemed to be stopping the knives, but as soon as they deformed, the weapons just dropped to the ground.

It was rapidly speeding up, but it was nothing to being overrun with monsters trying to kill you. Soon enough, the targets started moving, so she had to adjust her stance to hit them where they would be, not where they were.

It was exhilarating. She hadn't had this much of an adrenaline rush in a year!

Her five minutes of throwing seemed to end all-too-quickly. Soon, the targets stopped popping up, and Natasha was walking towards her with an almost-impressed look on her face.

"Not bad, Chase," she conceded.

"Thanks," Annabeth responded, going and helping Piper pick up the knives lying around their area.

When she got to her, her friend looked up, "That was pretty good, Annabeth. I don't know how I'm supposed to follow that, though."

Annabeth rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up. I could've done better. And you'll do great, Pipes. I trained you, right?"

She had a light twinkle in her eyes that always came when she was joking around (and that wasn't often). Piper had been trying her very best to see it out as much as possible after Tartarus. Percy and Annabeth put on a strong front, but the Seven could all see they were still recovering, and probably would always be. Nobody just jumped right back into things after something as traumatic as that trip through Hell.

But Piper didn't let it be known how proud she was of Annabeth for making a joke; that would only stop the fun right in its tracks.

"Thanks," Piper said, picking up the last knife before replacing Annabeth in her previous spot in the square.

In her opinion, she wasn't doing as good as Annabeth, or making it look as easy, but it wasn't too difficult. She had been practicing all the time on her fighting skills, and she especially focused on daggers. Knives were balanced a bit differently, but it was the same concept. She just had to compensate for the loss of weight.

Soon enough, Piper found the flow and could slightly anticipate when the next target would pop up.

Annabeth knew Piper would be fine doing this exercise. Sure, it got the blood flowing, but it wasn't the hardest thing they had done. They had fought in actual wars.

Before Piper had known what happened, the targets stopped showing up, and the five minutes were up. She was breathing a little heavily, but a giant grin was taking up her face.

"Not bad, either," Natasha complemented, "You will probably be able to take care of yourselves in a fight."

"Probably?" Annabeth glared.

Natasha returned the glare, "Probably."

Annabeth wanted to say more, but a shout from Leo, who had just sprinted back into the room, interrupted her.

"Guys! Guys! We got a hit!" he screamed, eyes wild with excitement.

Ω ♆ Ω

Everyone but Hazel and Tony stared at Leo in confusion and concern. They didn't know that he had gone to work with JARVIS on tracking the bombers.

Tony ran up to Leo, "What? Where?"

"In Las Vegas," Leo answered.

The rest of the heroes had all formed a group around Leo. Percy and Annabeth had naturally gravitated next to each other. At Leo's answer, they clasped hands and shared a look. They knew why Las Vegas was chosen: The Lotus Hotel and Casino. Flashbacks to zebras and old games flashed through their minds.

"What would they want in Las Vegas?" Steve asked.

"Who cares?! We're going to Vegas baby!" Tony exclaimed, pumping his fist. "JARVIS? Prepare the jet."

Tony was the only one who hadn't noticed the oldest demigods' reaction towards

Las Vegas. He didn't realize how bad this could really be. The demigods didn't have the time to make sure the Avengers didn't get stuck in the casino, if that's where they were going (which it probably was).

"Um, care to share what's bothering you two?" Steve asked Percy and Annabeth.

"We've been to Vegas before. If we're going where we think we might be going, this could be bad. You need to listen to us exactly, okay? It's important," Percy answered.

Tony gave him a confused look. "What are you talking about, kid? We'll be fine. I don't need a teeanger telling me how to do what I'm best at."

Annabeth glared at the billionaire, "And what is that; what you're good at? Because I thought it was being lazy and never taking anything seriously."

"Annabeth, just let it go. We'll just have to watch him closer." Percy said, resting a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder.

With one last glare at Tony, and a warning look to the other Avengers, Annabeth stormed out of the training room, heading back up to her room to prepare without another word. Mortals were so stubborn, she thought, especially when you're trying to protect them. It's literally their birthright to protect mortals, and they never let them!

Storming into her room, Annabeth grabbed a duffle bag and started stuffing supplies into it: weapons, spare clothes, ambrosia and nectar, armor, and a couple other things. She was so distracted by her anger that she didn't see the shadows fluctuating in the corner, or the black snout poking out.

She didn't see it until it was too late.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Are you going to tell us what that was all about back there?" Jason asked Percy as the rest of the demigods were walking back to their rooms.

Percy sighed, exhausted with the day but knowing it was not even close to being over, "Las Vegas is where Annabeth, Grover and I went during our first quest together. We got stuck in the Lotus Hotel and Casino. It's the home of the Lotus-eaters. They trap you in there and you don't feel time passing. We were in there for a week without realizing it. It's dangerous, man."

Piper and Jason shared a worried look, and Piper said, "So... we need to keep a close eye on the mortals on this mission, right?"

"A very close eye," Percy nodded.

When Percy reached Annabeth's door, he decided to go check on her. "Go get your stuff. Let's meet in the living room."

"Okay, Aquaman," Leo said, dashing into his soot-stained room.

Percy wasn't sure what he was expecting to find, maybe Annabeth crying, screaming, or angrily throwing things into a bag (that's the most likely), but he was NOT prepared for nothing. Literally nothing; the room was empty. There was an open duffle on the bed, along with a couple of weapons lying around it, but no Annabeth.

He wasn't getting worried yet, though. She could just be in the bathroom. That was a viable option. He would not allow himself to freak out yet. At least not until he checked the bathroom...

... And the bathroom was empty! Now he allowed himself to freak out. He started storming around the room, tossing things around looking for a clue as to where she went, anything!

"Annabeth! Wise girl!" he called, though he knew it was fruitless.

In their lives, nothing was ever as easy as simply calling for someone and they came back. Annabeth was missing, and he had no idea how to find her.

Unless someone was stupid enough to leave a trail of shadows, that is. Looking in the corner, Percy saw that the shadows in the right corner were moving around unnaturally, a lot like what happened after they were used for shadow travel. He had spent enough time around Nico to understand what it looked like.

So this meant that someone with access to shadow traveling took her, and that wasn't a long list. It was probably a hellhound that took her! Oh, were they going to pay.

Percy could feel his powers slipping, and the walls were giving scary creaks. No matter how much he wanted to just explode, he knew that he had to take a deep breath and focus on recentering himself. He would be no help to Annabeth if he wasn't in control. Some part of his brain was telling him that maybe letting off a little steam WOULD help get his powers under control, but no, he promised Annabeth. And Percy refused to break that promise if he could.

"JARVIS!" he yelled, already rushing out the door, "Call everyone to the living room! Now!"

"Right away, sir," JARVIS responded.

Percy ended up just running to the living room, not wasting any time being careful. Annabeth was missing, and he needed to find her and get her back NOW.

His emotions were running high, so he could sense all the water and liquids around him (it was a lot), and it was becoming distracting.

When he got there, only Steve, Clint, and Natasha were waiting so far. Though Hazel and Frank walked in right after him, probably having heard him scream before JARVIS had even called everyone.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, concern filling his eyes.

Percy paced and said, "Wait until everyone else is here. Then I'll tell you."

His mind kept flashing pictures of all his and Annabeth's enemies. Years and years of fighting monsters and wars were playing on his brain. There were so many possible people, even if it probably was the current gang that they were searching for. He didn't want to let himself believe that mortals could be so messed-up that they worked with monsters, monsters that they couldn't even begin to understand. It was so far-fetched, and yet it was his life!

As these thoughts were going through his head, the rest of the team had finally made it in. They were all sporting confused and concerned glances. Natasha seemed to have figured out that one of them was missing, and that it wasn't normal for that person and Percy to be separated. Annabeth was missing.

"Percy, man. Stop pacing and tell us what's wrong," Jason laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Percy's eyes got a little misty as he told them, "Annabeth is missing. Taken. She's gone, and I don't know where to find her."

Hazel gasped.

Nothing was right with this. Percy without Annabeth was wrong. So wrong. They needed to be reunited soon, and quickly.

Percy started pacing again, absentmindedly twirling Riptide around his fingers. He had decided that it was best to start in Las Vegas and go from there. There was a good chance that it was the gang who had taken her, and that they were holding her there. It was his only idea.

The others had just been sharing worried looks and a few whispered thoughts before Tony suddenly jumped up, holding his phone like it might explode.

"Guys, I think I know who has her..." he said, making a few hand gestures before his phone screen was projected in front of them.

It was a picture. Of Annabeth.

She was hanging from celestial bronze chains, with a leather gag in her mouth, and shackles on her ankles. Her hair was a matted mess, and she was unconscious. Even so, Percy could see that she had a black eye, probably from struggling. She wouldn't go without a fight, that's for sure. But still, this was not the Annabeth they knew. The Annabeth they knew was a strong force to be reckoned with. This...person was not her.

Percy let out an almost animalistic growl at the sight. They were going to pay, whoever had taken her. All of them.

"It has a note," Tony said, throwing up another picture.

It said:

We are The Truth Seekers. We have your blonde bitch, and she will be dead in the next 24 hours unless you reveal yourselves. The world deserves to know! It is our right to know the monstrosities that go unseen, right beneath our noses! 24 hours, or she's dead. We're at the Lotus Hotel and Casino, another one of the hidden monstrosities in our world. Tell the truth!

Percy was going to kill them. He didn't care if they were mortals, they were going to die. They hurt Annabeth, he hurts back. Worse.

"We need to suit-up, and then we can get going and rescue her. But first, we need a plan," Steve started to speak, but before he could, the world flooded in.

Screw control, Percy thought.

He let the pipes and burst and break the windows. Standing on the very edge of the empty window seal, he let out the loudest taxi whistle the Avengers had ever heard. Waiting only a second for a black blur to show up on the horizon, Percy jumped.

Ω ♆ Ω

other chapters :)

#pjo #the avengers #mcu #avengers #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #crossover #fanfiction #fanfic #wattpad #webnovel #inkitt #this is a big fluffy piece don't judge

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jade4813 · 4 years

Text

Like Moths to a Flame, Chapter 12

Fandom: North and South

Title: Like Moths to a Flame

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: John/Margaret

Synopsis: “I hope you realize that any foolish passion for you on my part is entirely over.“ Margaret decides to confront John about his unjust judgment of her character, but the two have always been drawn to each other, and things quickly get out of hand. In the aftermath, she agrees to marry him to satisfy propriety, but she cannot forget how ready he was to believe the worst of her. Can love survive without trust, or will the two find a way to work through the misunderstandings that have plagued their relationship from the start?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

John Thornton was not a man prone to vacillation or prevarication, once he had reached a decision. Indeed, his experience indicated that no unpalatable task had ever become more agreeable through the passage of time and procrastination, and so he tended to tackle the most unpleasant of assignments all the quicker, to have them over and done with once and for all. To go back upon a decision, made only upon due contemplation and deliberation, after all the facts were obtained and considered with the gravity each deserved, would be an indignity, an act of dishonor. And for John, the binds of honor, the demands of duty and responsibility, were not theoretical concepts but concrete mandates, which had formed and shamed him into the man he was today. Personal preference and selfish desire didn’t merely take a distant second to the demands of his duty to ensure the happiness and well-being of those around him; they had no bearing upon the matter at all.

And yet, over a month passed, and he could not bring himself to compose the letter that would break his heart, which would separate him from his wife, possibly forever. His attempts to console himself for his action only brought him further frustration, darkening his mood and instilling in him an irascible temperament, prone to snapping at any who drew near. Even his mother, who normally could be assured of safe harbor from even his darkest of moods, had nearly been the recipient of a sharp word or two, had he not bitten them back in the nick of time. Only Margaret was certain to avoid his irritability, as his ill temper did not overcome his concern for her in her grief, or his desire to buffer her from greater unhappiness. With her, he remained gentle, seeking refuge in work when finding himself with uncertain temperament, rather than risk imposing upon her with his foul mood.

He was standing above the mill floor, overseeing the work in progress, when his mother entered the workroom. To his surprise, she didn’t begin her inspection of workers and machines, as was her usual custom. Instead, she tilted her head back to gaze upon him, her jaw set in a stubborn line. She stood still, waiting for him, and he masked his grimace as he headed to the stairs to join her. As was too often the case as of late, he had been disagreeable at breakfast, glowering at his plate and speaking little, and he was certain that her patience was at an end.

He moved to her side, and the two walked in silence to office, so as not to be overheard by the workers. As the door closed behind them, he expected her to take him to task for his behavior, but she remained silent, her gaze expectant. Moving behind his desk, he wasted no time on pleasantries. “I’m sorry, Mother. I know I’ve had a foul temper lately. I’ve no right to take it out on others.”

“Is it the bank loan?” she asked, sounding concerned, rather than accusatory.

He shook his head. Looking away, he explained, “Before he left, Bell suggested he take Margaret to London, to take her mind off her grief. I’ve decided to accept his offer.” He didn’t mention that this determination had been undermined by his inability to put such acceptance into words. Instead, he waited for his mother’s response, certain that she would express unequivocal agreement with this course of action.

To his astonishment, however, his mother said nothing, prompting him to look at her once more. In a quiet voice, she asked, “How long do you intend for her to be away?”

He sucked in a deep breath. “Indefinitely.” Only the slightest quirk of her eyebrows betrayed her reaction to this revelation. “I thought you would be overjoyed at this news. I know you disapprove of her.” She glanced away with a scowl, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve disappointed you,” he remarked in mild surprise, having never drawn his mother’s disfavor before.

Her eyes darted back to his, and she stepped around the desk, reaching for him. As he sank into his chair, she cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Never,” she swore fiercely. “No mother has more cause for pride than I. But all your life, you have looked after others. The workers. Fanny. And don’t think I don’t see all that you’ve done for me. Your bride is the first thing you’ve ever truly wanted for yourself alone, and now you intend to send her away?”

“She doesn’t love me!” he protested miserably. “How can I demand she remain, when I know it will only bring her misery?”

“How is she to realize her love for you from London?” she argued, holding him in place when he would have drawn away. As though the words were torn from her chest, relinquished only with reluctance, she continued, “Margaret is proud. And vain. And I cannot pretend to love her for it.” There was the slightest moment of hesitation before she acknowledged in a dry tone, “But she is not alone in either, and she has as much right to both as any Thornton, I suppose. Sometimes pride makes it hard to recognize love, even when it’s truly felt.”

At this, he did pull away, yanking out of her grasp as he stood and stepped past her, not wanting to hear her words when he could not believe in them. She, however, refused to relinquish the point. “She cares for you, John. Whether or not either of you see it.”

He stormed to the other side of the room, keeping his back to his mother so she wouldn’t see the pain on his face. “Believe me when I say that isn’t true,” he snapped. “And I won’t keep her here against her will, when her heart would wish her elsewhere!”

“She agreed to marry you, to build a life here in Milton, and she’s never been one to do anything she didn’t wish to do. Do you trust her judgment so little, to think she’d be happier to be sent away?” He froze, the words tearing at him. He hadn’t asked her, having overheard enough to know of her regret. Was his mother right? Was there a chance Margaret would prefer to remain in Milton, for all the pain that it had brought her? As though recognizing his indecision, his mother urged him, “You mustn’t send her away. It won’t make either of you happy.”

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice when she slipped out of his office to return to her duties on the mill floor. Instead, he remained where he was, cast into self-doubt by his mother’s words, uncertain that his present course of action was the right one.

He was still in his office a short time later, when there was a light knock on the door. He lifted his head from his musings just as it swung open and rose to his feet when Margaret stepped inside, a mug in her hand. “I don’t mean to intrude,” she told him in greeting, with a soft, uncertain smile. “I was down to see Mary in the kitchens and thought you might be thirsty.” He made no move to reach for the mug, and so she admitted, “That was my excuse, at any rate. If you want to know the truth, I just wanted to see you.”

As he often did in her presence, he felt himself slip into a more agreeable frame of mind. Tilting his head to the side, he chided her gently, “You need no excuse to come see me, Margaret.”

“Perhaps not,” she agreed with a relieved smile, stepping toward him. “But you’ve been working so hard, I didn’t want to intrude.”

“I haven’t meant to neglect you,” he offered in apology, longing to draw her into his arms but not allowing himself the pleasure. He was still painfully conscious of her grief and his intentions, which left him uncertain of his reception. His mother’s words haunted him, daring him to broach the subject of Margaret’s departure. Knowing it likely that she would be excited at the prospect of leaving Milton. And him.

She shook her head, her eyes contemplative as he stepped around his desk to relieve her of the mug she carried. “You’ve been preoccupied, worried about more than the state of the mill.” When he looked at her in surprise, she explained, “You’re my husband now. I think I’m coming to understand you a little, at least.” She paused and then added, “I was hoping you would talk to me.”

He nodded slowly, recognizing the fruitlessness of evasion, even if it wasn’t against his nature to make the attempt. Unable to look at her as he continued, he busied himself by moving some papers aside on his desk to make room for the mug she had brought him. “It’s true, I’ve had a great deal on my mind,” he began. “This business at the mill is taking up much of my time. I’ve been wondering if you might not prefer to be in London.”

“Oh!” Her soft cry of surprise and consternation compelled his attention once more, though she looked away from him under the weight of his regard. Choosing her words with great deliberation, she replied, “I suppose…if you think it best…I would like to see my cousin again. I could write to her today. How long of a visit should I suggest?”

When he didn’t reply immediately, she returned her gaze to his. “Oh,” she breathed again, as a dawning comprehension overtook her features. “I didn’t – you weren’t suggesting a visit. You intend to send me away.” He winced as the words hit her mark, unable to argue against the truth of them, even though the starkness of her statement was more terrible than the idea had sounded in his mind.

Afraid she might misunderstand, he tried to explain, “Milton has brought you little joy. I thought you might be happier in London than you’ve been here.”

Her temper rising, she crossed her arms across her chest, her face flushed with emotion. “Is your suggestion meant to ensure my happiness or your own?” Before he could reply, she continued, “I knew my mind when I took you for a husband. I thought we understood each other! I didn’t realize that you thought you were buying a bride you could send away the moment she became inconvenient for you!”

It was not the first time she had accused him of mercenary intent, and he felt his hands shake as he stalked toward her. “You say you thought we understood each other, but you still think so little of me, that I can only think of buying and selling because I’m in trade!” he spat.

Unlike so many others, his Margaret did not recoil from his fit of temper. Then again, she never had, neither flinching nor backing away as she demanded, “What else am I to think, when you’re so willing to send me away like some – some bale of cotton that has displeased you?” She pressed forward, offering him no mercy. “I wondered if honor might not be a sufficient comfort, and you might not come to regret your proposal one day. I didn’t realize it would happen so soon!”

Her words tore through him, flaming his anger with the injustice in her accusation. Straightening, he looked down his nose at her as he growled, “You’re mistaken. I’m not the one who regrets our marriage, Margaret. It isn’t my desire I seek to satisfy in sending you to London but your own.”

Her countenance, once flushed with her ire, rearranged into an expression of irritable confusion. “I don’t know what you mean. I have no—”

He was ready to explain about the conversation he had overheard, until a knock at the door interrupted them. Clutching his hands into fists at his side, he spun to face the offending intruder, barking a loud, “Enter!”

The door opened to reveal Nicholas Higgins on the other side, his expression calm and placid, although he must have heard the raised voices from his position in the hall. “Beggin’ your pardon, but there’s a problem with one of the machines.”

“I’ll be there shortly—” John began, but Margaret, her color still high with the force of her emotion, spoke over him.

“No, it’s all right. I’ll go. You have work, and I’d hate to inconvenience the Master of Marlborough Mills.”

Nicholas quirked an eyebrow slightly at this parting shot, but his face betrayed no other thoughts as she stormed past him, striding quickly into the hall. As her skirt disappeared around the corner and the rapid sound of her footfalls faded, John picked up the mug she’d brought him and hurled it against the wall, feeling no satisfaction when it landed with a loud crack and tumbled to the ground, spilling its contents upon the floor. It was perhaps possible that he could have handled that entire situation worse than he had, but he couldn’t at present imagine how.

Several hours later, he returned to the house, physically exhausted from his strenuous day, and emotionally spent from his earlier argument with his wife. With an early appointment looming in the morning, he knew he should hurry to bed, to catch what sleep he may. However, he found himself lingering downstairs, seeking consolation in the bottom of a glass of stronger spirits than he usually indulged. He barely tasted the first glass of the amber liquid as he tossed it back in a single swallow before pouring himself another, this time intending to savor the fiery liquid.

With a fierce yank, he untied his cravat, leaving the rumpled fabric looped around his neck as he shrugged out of his coat, tossing it aside. Then, rolling up his sleeves, he paced before the fire, his thoughts giving him no peace. Bracing one hand upon the mantle, he bowed his head, taking another sip of his drink as he stared at the dying embers with sightless eyes.

He remained that way for he knew not how long, until sound behind him that drew his attention. He knew what he would find before he even turned, finding to find Margaret in the doorway. Her feet were bare, toes curling into the carpet, her night-rail providing scant protection from the cool night air. Seeing her shiver, he reached for the coat he’d discarded on the back of a chair and stepped forward to wrap it around her shoulders before stepping back to give her space. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said, the words sounding inane, even to his own ears.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied in a soft voice. “I was waiting for you.”

“Forgive me. I meant to return sooner.” He didn’t know how to reach her, how to breach this great divide that had grown between them. A divide of his own making, he feared.

She rocked back and forth on her heels, but she didn’t approach, pulling the folds of his coat tightly around her body. “Do you truly wish to send me away, John?” Unable to answer, he turned away. “Will we never come to understand each other?”

They never would, until they could find the strength and courage that honesty required. There were so many things left unsaid between them. Perhaps it was time for him to set aside his pride and bring those secrets into the light. What had he to lose? He could not fear her hatred, when he had never had her love. “No. I don’t wish you to leave,” he admitted. “I could never truly wish for that.”

He heard her move closer, felt the gentle pressure of her hand upon his arm, but he did not turn. He didn’t want her to see his shame. “Then why are you sending me away?”

“The mill will likely close soon. We’ll lose this house. I made you a promise, when you agreed to be my wife, and I didn’t want you to see how I’ve failed you.”

She let out a sharp cry, increasing the pressure of her hand until he turned toward her, although his face remained averted. She reached to touch him, moving closer when he flinched away. “You haven’t failed me. Do you think I haven’t seen how you’ve tried to care for your workers? How hard you’ve tried? Whatever happens with the mill, you’re a good man, John Thornton. I didn’t see that when I first came to this place, but I do now. I’m proud to have you as my husband. Don’t you see that?”

He didn’t see, but he wanted to believe it. She was kind, as she had been so often to those around her, and he wanted to throw himself upon her mercy, to beg her to pretend to feel what she had once sworn she could not. To offer him the kindness of a lie, and let him believe that he might one day win her heart.

He wanted to tell her that he knew he had been a fool, pushing her away time after time, even as he wished for nothing more than to hold her close. No one had it in their power to hurt him as she did. For her good opinion, he would face rioters, intent upon his destruction. He loved her as he had never loved another, and yet he created distance between them, in a vain attempt to protect a heart that was no longer his alone.

He should reassure her of his faith in her, which he had once sworn had been lost. There was nothing for which he could deride her – save, perhaps, for choosing him when she deserved so much better than the life he could offer her. She deserved to be cossetted and protected, to live a life of comfort and joy, unmarred by deprivation and want. For her skin to be caressed by hands that had never seen a day’s work, their touch soft and gentle.

John’s hands were rough. He was hard, coarse. He had struggled as a child and would struggle again, once the mill had closed and his family was left in dire straits as they had been so many years before. He couldn’t indulge Margaret as she deserved; he couldn’t promise her a future without care. It wouldn’t be long before the bank loan came due and he lost the comfortable home he had spent a lifetime building for his family. He would find himself cast down from his position of Master of the Mills to the bottom, to claw and scrape and grab for the lowest rung of the ladder, intending to scale it rung by rung in the hopes he might one day find himself at the top once more. Meanwhile, Margaret would be left with nothing but calloused hands from hard work that her gentle upbringing had never prepared her to undertake, and with the necessity to scrimp and fret from one meal to the next.

He should tell her that he believed in her – in her kindness and her compassion. In her integrity and faithfulness. She had never taken a lover before him, but he hoped that she had once loved another, though the idea pained him – to know, even for a short while, what it felt like to bask in the adoration of one more deserving of her than he. Although John would swear that nobody in the world could love her as he loved her; nobody else could cherish either her heart or her spirit as he did.

There were many things that he should say, now that he had sworn to lay himself bare before her, but the words swelled in his chest, jumbling together on his tongue until they tangled and knotted, and he didn’t know which thread to pull at to set them free. There was only her name, a benediction upon his lips. “Margaret.” He grabbed her hand, drawing her near, missing the warmth and the feel of her, his mouth hot against hers as he wrapped her in his arms.

As it often tended to do, he was surprised by her passion, by the readiness with which she reached for him. His coat fell to the floor, forgotten, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body flush against this own. She whispered his name as he lifted her, her night-rail falling open, her shift hitching around her waist as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

He should carry her upstairs, to the privacy of their bedchamber. They could be interrupted at any time, caught by a servant in search of something to eat in the middle of the night, or finishing up on a task left undone. But he had not held his wife like this for far too long, and the taste of her lips and scent of her skin was intoxicating, filling his senses and driving away all reason. Reaching out one hand, he stumbled forward until his palm struck the wall, her body making a loud thud that shook the painting on the wall as it followed.

He began to apologize, but she laughed, finding delight in their passion, her hands grabbing at his shirt, his shoulders, his hair. Her lips chasing after his kiss as she tossed his discarded cravat aside. “We should stop,” he breathed, even as he pressed his lips against the curve of her neck. “The servants—”

But Margaret wasn’t in the mood to be agreeable, and she taunted him with a roll of her hips, rather than acquiesce to his suggestion. He groaned when he felt her against him, even through the fabric of his trousers, and she threw her head back, exposing soft, smooth skin to the dim light cast by the dying embers in the fireplace and the moonlight spilling through the windows. Bowing his head, he caressed her breast his mouth, wetting the fabric with his tongue as he drew the nipple between his teeth.

“The servants—” he tried once more, his voice muffled by fabric and skin, but she slipped her hand beneath his shirt, caressing the muscles of his chest, and shook her head at his protest.

“Everyone’s asleep,” she reassured him. “Don’t stop. I need you. I-I’ve missed you.”

In the darkness and with their haste, their movements were clumsy and awkward as he fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, pulling himself free. Sliding one hand between her thighs, he could feel that she was wet and ready for him, her breath coming in tight gasps as he slid two fingers inside of her, teasing her sensitive nub with his thumb.

Tomorrow, he would chastise himself for taking her so roughly against their drawing room wall, his need for her overwhelming all sense and the fear of discovery. Rather than making love to her with sweet words in a soft bed, as gentle ladies such as she had been raised to expect. But she would offer him no similar recriminations, to be sure, her exultant cries muffled by his lips and cheek, the only thing preventing them from echoing through the empty room.

Questing fingers swept into his hair, brushing it back from his face, and he reached for her hand, pinning it against the wall beside her head. She demanded nothing from him this night, but there was one thing he needed from her, his longing so deep that his heart ached with it.

“Tell me you love me,” he growled, demanding and pleading in equal measure. “Just for tonight, let me pretend.”

Her laughter died on her lips, her eyes growing wide, and he feared for a moment that he had spoiled the mood, that she would balk and push him away. He was gratified when she whispered, “I do love you.” It was a lie, but she was kind, and he was willing to let himself pretend to believe it, and so he let out a long sigh, his eyes closing as the joy of those four words washed over him.

Beneath him, Margaret squirmed, her movements growing more insistent, even frantic, as she clutched at his shoulders, his neck, his face. “John, please! I love you! I do! You must believe me!”

A groan rumbled through his chest as though torn from his very soul, and he pressed his face against the curve of her neck, savoring the weight of her words and her willingness to utter such a lie for his sake. She was kind, and he was willing to let himself believe.

“Look at me,” she begged him, her voice catching as he thrust inside her. “Look at me!” But he could not – dared not – in case he saw the truth of her feelings in her face. Instead, he crushed his lips against hers, swallowing her soft sounds of desire as he slid his hand between her thighs and stroked her until she came undone in his arms.

Her pleasure was still washing over her when he thrust into her again, rocking her body against the wall behind her. “Tell me you love me,” he demanded once more in a low voice, his lips against her ear, the strength of his need deepening his voice and the harsh, Northern burr of his accent. She shook her head, her breath escaping in a soft sob, but he increased the pace of his thrusts as he repeated his demand. “Please.”

Her arms wrapped around his neck pressing his cheek against hers as he drove into her again. A moment later, he felt a cool dampness against his skin and was surprised to realize it had come from her, a tear spilling over her lashes and sliding down the gentle curve of his face until it became trapped between them. It was almost enough to compel him to stop and draw away, except she tightened her legs around his hips and would not release him.

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear, driving him on.

He savored those words, committing them to his heart, a treasured memory that could never be taken from him, not even with the truth in the harsh light of day. Wrapping his hands under her thighs, he repositioned her, steadying her weight as he drove into her again and again until his own pleasure washed over him.

He pressed his mouth against the curve of her shoulder as he poured himself into her, feeling his muscles tremble with the strength of his release. Only when he was spent, his senses slowly returning, did he put her back on her feet, turning his head to capture her mouth in a kiss, swallowing the lie she had graciously bestowed upon him.

She deserved to hear the truth, although she must know it by now already, given his shameless request. “I love you, Margaret,” he breathed against her lips. “I have never loved another.”

#like moths to a flame #north and south #margaret hale #john thornton #my fanfiction #fanfiction #john x margaret

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jdramione · 3 years

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My 2nd Story Rec: Tripwires by Mandarou @end-o-the-line https://archiveofourown.org/works/7262188/chapters/16488682

I read Tripwires a few years ago for the first time and I’m positive that in the process of reading this story, something in my chest cracked completely in half and I was left... broken.

This story captivates me in ALL the ways. I just finished a re-read of it for the billionth time, and again, I’m just absolutely moved by it. The story is deep and incredibly moving. There are scenes within this story that leave me brokenhearted and wrecked. I feel every single thing that Steve feels, and the way this author writes truth and emotion and angst - few writers can even begin to compare.

This story is one of those that just feels... more. You, the reader, are along for an emotionally angsty ride that far surpasses words on a page. In many ways, this story is just... everything to me. With every new story I find and give a chance to, this is one that gobsmacked me the first time I read it. I think I walked around in an emotional mess for days after I read the last line. Broken, put together, laid out bare. It did all of those things to me and more. How? How does an author incapsulate these things and make them flesh? Reading this story puts you in this magical world of angsty storytelling perfection that you could ever hope to find, and when it takes you there - those places, that are deep within and hurtful and painful and it just sinks its teeth into you and you can’t help but go - yes, thank you god, finally, someone has managed to put feelings into words and express these things I’ve never managed to figure out within myself but here they are and I’m staring at them and I can barely breathe. It leaves you breathless for more. And still, I’m not even talking about the sex scenes. Which are epic in all proportions, sexy, perfect, humbling. MORE. There is this one poignant moment, and don’t ask me where because I’m gonna be vague and the last amount of spoiler-y as one can be when making a list of favorite moments. But there is this moment where Steve slides down a door, to his butt, and is just torn up (as am I EVERY TIME I read this tiny moment) and Bucky, cool as you can be, as present as one can be fully in love but remaining arm-length apart. And they both press the side fo their faces to the wall looking at each other, talking to each other quietly. And it feels so big, the emotion. It fucking hurts. "You’re thinking too. hard, Stevie.” -- Fucking kills me. Breaks my goddamn heart. “Howard was my friend,” Barnes whispered. “No words will ever be enough.” -- I’m dead. Broken. WHY is Bucky humming the HOTTEST THING EVER in this world? How did I never find humming so sexy in any other fic? Bucky hums through this story and it’s beautiful and sexy and so RIGHT and in character that it leaves me melting into romantic goo every single time. And it’s literal “humming.” I recognize the ridiculousness of this paragraph. But WHY does it do all the things to me? I HATED Clint the first time I read it. And then I loved him so fucking much. And he broke my heart. Never have I ever read Clint characterized exactly like he is in this fic. I understand him, I get it. But he breaks my heart. And then I’m so glad he’s there for Bucky. It’s such a mixed box of feelings. The moment where Tony actually walks Clint down to his motorcycle - why does this little thing ruin me? I think it’s because you know so much that Clint is so angry on Bucky’s behalf, and yet there is Tony, in the wrong, and knowing he’s in the wrong, but goes down to shake his hand goodbye. There is respect there, and I would like to think still love between them all. But everything from “Mercy” on left me laying on the ground in the middle of the road, dead. That scene. I won’t even go into it. Read this fic you guys. OMG. I could hardly read I was sobbing so much. In my bedroom, on my computer, like a little child with a broken heart, sobbing. How did this author do this to me? And thank you so much. The rooftop scene with the cigarette. God, the characterization here. Bucky understands Steve so deeply. And Steve, desperately attempting to grasp onto his feelings, to figure out his anger, and grief, and heartbreak, and love. There is so much to unpack, and the author does it one shirt at a time out of the suitcase. Or rather, I guess the metaphor works better if instead of “unpacking” the reader is “packing” one shirt at a time, until the suitcase is full, like your heart, like your mind, and everything clicks and puzzles together and makes sense. And it’s not all perfect and right, but it will be. Always and Forever. I think I need a tattoo of it, I think. OMG.

I truly did not expect vulnerable Tony. And he’s vulnerable in a completely different way than Steve. Steve is heartbroken, and that makes him vulnerable. Bucky is protecting himself, vulnerable that way, and yet so strong. But Tony, probably the oldest in age? No, Bucky would be oldest. But in all the ways, the characterization of Tony in this story makes me feel he is the young one. I love how he and Bucky are together. Tony and Steve - they make sense. Steve and Bucky, though. There’s something truly precious there. It took me a while to understand Bucky, and when I finally did, it was like I’d been hit over the head with a club. Like a stone dropped in a well, and I felt it go through me. Terrible metaphors - but it’s so heartbreaking... it’s so sad. There is such... loss. “Bucky would always choose Steve. But Steve . . . Steve would always choose the right thing. So Bucky had to have a buffer.” - That’s it in a nutshell. Kills me dead. The insight is so spot on, makes so much sense, and is heartbreakingly accurate.

“A whole year.” Kills me every time, and I cry with Steve here. Every time. The betrayal of protection and assuming. That pretty much sums up everything that hurt me so much, so deeply, in this story. On all sides. “Check him,” Bucky was shouting. “I hurt him. I know I hurt him. I had to hurt him.” Dead. The moment of Steve’s “Wow.” And then the cow. Thank the fuck. And also, OMG. I was there. Hanging onto every single word that Steve felt. Forced outside, not knowing why he went outside. Laying his head on Bucky’s knee. I could read this scene over and over, and it’s perfect. It’s just... sigh-worthy, cry-worthy, perfect. “Steve’s going to fall apart.” -- This scene read SO differently after the first time and makes me cry when I understand what is going through Bucky’s mind here. I ADORE how the writer did this so incredibly well. I have to know - was this scene planned ahead of time, or was it an afterthought and reference back to? This scene, during a re-read, is just... everything. This is where it all goes wrong. The scene that you think is taking shape is not at all what is happening, and it’s just genius, writing of epic proportions and I just can’t even with it. But it’s heartbreaking and then it’s heartbreaking, which feels worse - way worse in the end. Mercy leaves me blubbering. It’s my official breaking point in all of this fic.

I could truly go on. And on and on. I don’t know how this skillful writer put this story together. Somehow, despite the heartbreak and the angst, and the... deep emotional and vulnerable shit all over the place that makes you sink and feel and need.... despite that - it’s funny in parts. And so, so romantic. Gentle caress, soft kisses, longing stares. It’s a complete package, all wrapped up. And few fics have ever taken me on the emotional journey that this story did. What leaves me so gobsmacked is how I start the team feeling the utmost grief for all that is Steve. And somewhere by the end, while I’m still feeling that same grief and heartbreak for Steve, Bucky tugs at my heart even worse. His easy acceptance of “I love you always and forever, despite everything, forever, even if I can’t have you all to myself, I will always love you, even if you won’t love me back as much as I love you - and Steve just doesn’t understand and Bucky loves that part of him too.” Just... HOW. Stunning. Brilliant. Brave. Hard. Breathtaking. Heartbreaking.

It’s just MORE. More than others. More than maybe even itself.

It’s one of those stories that I have to have repeated inner debates on whether or not to search out a new fic or just enjoy immersing myself yet again into this visceral and lush world, where everything just fits, like the perfect puzzle piece. It all is described in such detail, you can practically taste the air, and the characters feel foundational in a way most stories lack because they can’t see them so wholeheartedly, in both their strengths as well as their weaknesses.

To me, this is a core fic. If you want a story that completely fleshes out ALL the characters, plot, and storyline - this is the one for you. It’s angsty, so much so that one physically aches for these characters, but in that angst, it’s so gorgeously done that despite how much it hurts, you need more.

What inspires me to write? Stories like this one, where I can live and breathe these characters in a world that was created exactly and perfectly for them.

If you have read it - let me know I’m not alone in my obsession. If you haven’t, go READ this - including the INCREDIBLE timeline part 2 and then get back to me. I need to fan-girl a bit on some of these authors, and need some friends who are along with me for the ride. At some point, I’ll figure out how to archive my story recs together. But I want to give each rec it’s moment to begin with.

#story rec #fanfiction rec #stucky #stucky rec #my favorite #mandarou #end-o-the-line

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edge-lorde · 4 years

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hp update: its been a long time, boys. ud think that with this plague outbreak id have more time for shitty phone games, and ud be right! however, the time i normally might use to make tumblr posts has been taken up by reading lotr orc fanfiction non-stop for at least 1 full month. id still be in the thick of that obsession even now if only the fics would update. that is how i find you today folks, for the first time in many weeks i am staring at a screen with nothing to do. so come with me friends, theres no better way to fill the soulless void we are all in than reading a nice long tumbler post.

disclaimer, first of all, a lot has happened, i prefer to keep these updates as plot spoiler free as possible but do to extenuating circumstances i feel like it is necessary to say, [SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER BELOW]

that rowan fucking died,

i wont say exactly how, but i will say that her death was animated as were animations of myself and a few others reacting to our friend fresh corpse. obviously meant to be serious moments but the animations made it seem almost comical.

i saw at least one post going around right after this update that was like ‘how could the game devs do this to us..... how could they hate rowan so.... this is punishment from on high’ and its like.... u guys do know what a story is right? the events of a story are not typically done to punish less faithful fans, im pretty sure they were planning to kill rowan off from the beginning. this isnt disney im pretty sure the writers are not writing each chapter the night before its released by popular vote.

that little “are we drifting away..?” scene with rowan makes more sense now. there was a bit in one of the scenes where the kids all reminisce on rowans life and the mc talks about it being the last real one on one time they had with rowan. a nice bitter sweet moment. i dont hate this turn of events. its a good reminder that actions have consequences and we are way past they days of “should i wear a hat or scarf?” its YA time now.

i did manage to take 1 screenshot from this time, i had commented that before that when rowan said she didnt have many friedns that barnaby seemed to be hanging out with her without be there as a friend buffer and here was his reaction to her death:

;_;

the funniest part in all of this however, was of course cedericks reaction to rowans death “but she was so young....” LOL fuckin RIP.

lets see... what else.... i forget a lot of what happened but i think there was a time sensitive quidditch event in there somewhere? if so i dont remember it. what i do remember of the quidditch pals is that im gonna play beater now, skye is being weird and cagey about it, andre is involved.... the others are there.....

sidenote, i love the shitty b characters they throw in to be like yes you know this person but no they are not cool enough for u to even think about befriending. the first one of those is face paint kid, and now we have another, who is a former beater girl with horrible bangs named bean who didnt go to any classes for a whole season so she could just play ball 24/7 and got kicked off the team. this is a character who only exists to provide an explanation as to why there would be a beater position open but i love them on principle.

right now im in the midst of another time sensitive event, this one is a bother-your-brother-at-work-day event where recent hogwarts graduate bill weasley is bullied by myself and his younger brother charlie into letting us go with him on one of his curse breaking jobs.

so for those unfamiliar, bill works for the magical bank of england.... and his job seems to be “retrieving treasure” for said bank. in the books, there is a bit where he takes his family on one of his trips to egypt, where his job seemed to have been tomb plundering indiana jones style for the posterity of the english bank :X. i wont explain here why thats bad but its bad.

the game devs however in this instance, at least SEEM to be doing what jkr couldnt do by attempting to salvage what is left of gringotts bank and form it into not a super shitty implications factory run by horrible jewish caricatures. bills mission is to retrieve a goblin made artifact that was taken by dragons, so no going to foreign countries to steal things from other people! only going to a dragon reserve to rifle through animal nests. they even appear to be providing us with a likable goblin character, egad!

my hope for this event is that we get a plotline about how maybe, goblins arent shifty human haters for no reason, and in fact they hate magic humans for very understandable reasons, like being forced to go into hiding with the rest of the magical world even though only the humans wanted to do that, and maybe despite running the bank in england they still dont have a lot of political sway in the world of wizards and witches, and have to rely on the faith that said wizards and witches wont fuck them over at every turn, even as they see how they treat other non-humans, such as house elves, which they desperately dont want to end up like. and maybe they DONT only care about gold... maybe thats a human stereotype based on the fact that theres a long history of humans not respecting goblin ownership customs.... which i could get into..... but i wont.... i just....... very badly dont want them to suck ;__________;

i know i said its ok to still like a piece of media as long as you recognize the problems with it, and i do, but once this game is done im gonna stop hp posting all together. ive been feeling more and more uncomfortable making these posts lately.

GENERAL GAME NOTES; theres been some new layout changes and such.

most notably the stairs screen has been changed from a bulleted list of all locations to a screen with tiles picturing an image of each location along with the name + icons of all classes at each place. there is one additional location that is new and yet to be unlocked, and the dragon reservation is appearing temporarily as its own tile as well. i prefer this method of getting in and out of a temporary location to how they did it with car during the last christmas special. the stairs icon also now stays in the corner when you scroll through locations, allowing you to open the stairs menu without scrolling all the way back to the left.

they also moved a few of the buttons down into the lower left corner rather than the left side & combined the story button and sidequest button. they added a little camera button as well, just like in the dormitory, that makes all the icons in a location disappear and look better for screenshots.

the daily special add offer thing now has its own button in the top right corner of the screen, and idk if i mentioned it before but now there are daily challenges that appear in the sidequest screen that offer small rewards for completing 3 tasks per day + a better one if u get all 3. the prizes are things like 4 energy, 75 coins, 3 monster food. the better rewards are usually either more coins, 8 energy, 3 gems, or 1 notebook. i think that it does all the different color notebooks but i cant remember for sure if i ever saw the gold one up as a reward. i like this addition in any case. if you dont pick up ur reward by the end of the day, the next time u log on it will force u to stop and accept them, and if one of the rewards is energy and ur energy bar is full, it does not seem to stack beyond the bar so watch out.

the character stats page is now more zoomed out so you can see your full character instead of just from the waist up. no change to the leaderboard. rowans face in the friendship roster is now a still black and white image that says ur friend may be gone but friendship is forever u-u.

rowan has been removed from all classes. in the classes where the minigames involved her, those minigames have passed the mantle onto other friends in the class. in potions that person is now liz helping u find stuff off the shelves and in tranfiguration that person is badeea. bless these girls for helping mc get through it. touched my heart.

theres been a few fun little “i know u have more free time now so uhhhh have some energy” prizes like they do sometimes when they dont update on schedule so thats been nice. just a few days ago they gifted us 3 gold notebooks the same way. :O.

theres also been a few instances of a energy happy hour where for a limited time energy takes less time to refresh. normally it takes 4 mins for 1 energy to do this but during happy hour its like 2:30 mins. :U its all very interesting.

and that will have to do it for tonight my friends, ill do a post for the dragon event when its done because i do like it so far and i do like getting to bully bill with charlie.

until next time, remember.......

#hp #harry potter #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #bill weasley #goblins #charlie weasley #sirius business #rowan khanna #rambling #Thoughts #so sorry im still making these posts #i just want to see them through to the end now

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sarcastic-sunshines · 5 years

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Letters for my Love - Chapter 3

A/N: So this took a little long than I would have wanted, but here it is! I promised things would get happier from here on out so hopefully this counts. As always, I hope you enjoy reading as much as I do writing it and I can’t wait to here what you all think

Warnings: None

Pairing: T’Challa x Black Reader

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2

________________________________________________________________

My Love,

It feels odd even writing this, but somehow, you are still my best friend. Despite you not being here and life looking so differently from what we expected, I still feel as though I can tell you everything. Frankly, you are the only one I want to talk to about this . So I will do just that, I have started dating again. And it appears I have met someone, her name is Aiysha. My mother actually set up the date behind my back, but it worked out, and we have been moving at what I think is an appropriate pace. Though often Aiysha doesn’t hesitate to remind that she wants more out of whatever this is.

I am not even sure if I can call it a relationship, which would make Aiysha my girlfriend. I don’t think I am ready for such titles. To make it worse, our six year old adds to my hesitation. I remember you jokingly saying if something were to happen to you, you would have wanted an eight year grace period before I moved on to another. Well it appears our daughter aims to honour your request.

It has become very clear, Nobomi does not plan on ever liking Aiysha. She never calls by her name and continually refers to her as my ‘friend’. Her presence sours Nobomi’s mood and I have tried everything to change her perception of her. Though I don’t think Aiysha puts in enough effort either, but Nono is not making it easy. My mother is sure she is just jealous of having to share her Baba, but I am not sure that is it.

Perhaps it not time for me to be taking these steps yet. The therapist had said going on a few dates would not hurt anyone, but it seems to be hurting Nobomi. If she isn’t comfortable with me having a dating life I am not sure I can go on to do so. Perhaps you can send me a sign to let me know that I am making the right steps, not just for me, but for Nobomi. Will any of this ever get easier?

Yours Forever,

T’Challa

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rhythmic knock on the door made it clear who had come to pay T’Challa a surprise visit. His smile grew as he stood and the door open to welcome his cousin to his office. They immediately hugged looking at each other, something they hadn’t done in the three months they had been apart.

“Hey bro, you look good”

“I can say the same about you cousin. I see the outreach center is not as much work as it once was. Your stress free demeanor is very telling” he spoke, offering his cousin a seat and a glass of palm wine. Erik picked up the glass, letting the cool liquid be a reminder of his home away from Oakland.

“You could say that, three centers and you have them filled with so many people I barely know what my job is anymore”

“Isn’t that a good thing, it means they are working” T’Challa said with a light chuckle as he took a sip from his own glad.

“You know what I mean” He said after kissing his teeth “I got all this free time I might have to finally settle down like you T.

T’Challa choked on his drink making Erik laugh “ Chill man, I’m only talking about your new boo that Shuri was telling me about. What’s her name again? Asha?”

“Aiysha, and Shuri needs to learn to mind her business and she is barely my ‘boo’” he said with an eye roll

“Family is always business, so what’s the situation with her? It ain’t serious?” T’Challa nodded swishing his drink in his hand.

“So what, you just have her coming over when Nono asleep then?” T’Challa’s eyes grew in size, his embarrassed nature had his cousin laughing again.

“First of all I have more manners than that”

“So you're not sleeping with her?”

“No, I mean yes, but we go out on dates, and she is around Nobomi when she can be”

“Oh so she sneaking in after bedtime and staying for breakfast”

“N’Jadaka, please” T’Challa always felt shy talking about his new dating life, which always seem to be coming up in conversation with his family. It is like they did not understand that he needed to take baby steps through this process. Though talking about it with Erik would always be better then the prying done by his mother

“I’m just playing with you. You make it too easy though.” T’Challa shook his head slouching in his chair.

“So Aiysha, she cool then? And how does she feel about babygirl”

“Impartial” T’Challa answered leaning his head on his hands.

“Damn”

“It is still better than what Nono thinks of Aiysha” Erik lifted his eyebrows knowingly before taking another sip of his drink.

“Yeah I heard Aiysha got competition?”

“I am guessing mother told you” Erik nodded “I still don’t even think it is that. I have tried to have her in different situations with Aiysha but it all ended the same. Nono flat out refuses to acknowledge her. And once Aiysha sees all her efforts are going to waste, she completely stops trying. I told Nono we were going to the beach, she was excited. As soon as I mentioned Aiysha was coming she shut down. She was quiet the whole way there. She barely even talked to me, she didn’t feel like getting into the water with me either. At one point I thought she was feeling better building her sandcastles, but as soon as she saw Aiysha get any bit of close to me she “accidentally” dumped sand in Aiysha’s hair.” Erik let out a deep laugh. T’Challa stared back unimpressed.

“It is not funny”

“Babygirl a G for that. She’s showing you she don’t like ole girl but you keep bringing her around.” Erik’s words did nothing but make T’Challa more anxious about the situation. He was beginning to think Nobomi needed a couple more years before he introduced someone to her.

“Which is where my dilemma lies, Aiysha wants to take things further but I don’t think I can knowing my child is not comfortable. Aiysha can barely stay over past 9 without Nono claiming she has a nightmare. One can only chase away monsters for so long” Erik’s attempt to hold his laughter failed. “Erik I’m serious!”

“Aight, I hear you, how bout you invite Aiysha over for dinner and I’ll be there so Nono don’t feel as uncomfortable. Then when the night goes on, baby girl and I can disappear for dessert somewhere else. “

“So you act like the buffer so I don’t have to?” Erik nodded as he stood up and downed the last of drink. “That might work, and she may feel more comfortable if she feels she is getting enough attention”

“Exactly, look I gotta go help Shuri with something in the lab. I’ll meet you at yours right after” T’Challa nodded, watching the door closed. He looked at the clock and stood, remembering that he had to get Nobomi from the hair salon. The six year old had requested something other than the space buns her Baba had barely mastered. It was hard for him to say no to her, his concern was always her happiness, but T’Challa wasn’t sure if maybe he was sacrificing too much of himself to make sure Nono was happy. He knew he was supposed to find a balance of the two, but at this rate he wasn’t sure if he ever was going to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nono watched as the caterers set their dining room for four people. She peaked at the chafing dishes, hoping her father had picked at least one thing that she liked for dinner. All of the dishes seemed to be filled with her favourites. The picky eater smiled, not realising her father was behind her until he picked her up. He carried her around to the kitchen as she laughed. He set her on the counter as he searched the fridge for an apple to share with Nobomi.

“Okay, fruits time” he heard his child groan but continued to cut the apple into small slices.

“How will I have room for the plantains out there?”

“You will have room, I am sure. Just half Nono please” the six year old took the slices but ate with no enthusiasm.

“Who are the other plates for? Are Aunty Shuri and Uma coming?” He shook his head no biting into his share of the apple

“Then who is it?” she said with squinted eyes. He passed her another piece before answering

“It is a surprise” He heard their door slide open and lifted her off the counter to go see who it was. She held onto her father’s leg peaking at the entrance. Once she realised who it was she let go and ran into Erik’s arms. He lifted her up and held her tightly.

“Uncle Erik, are you my surprise?” He kissed his niece’s cheek before looking at how much she had grown in the three months he hadn’t seen her.

“I guess I am baby girl, you excited to see me?” She nodded vivaciously.

“They made all our favourites, and I was wondering why” Erik laughed at her curiosity. “So who is the fourth person?” Erik looked at T’Challa before speaking.

“I think you know her. Her name is Aiysha?” and immediately, Nono’s whole demeanor changed. Her smile vanished and was replaced by a deep frown.

“You mean Baba’s friend. I don’t want her here”

“Eh Nobomi, be nice” she frowned deeper as Erik let her down, she ran and hid her face on the couch. “She will be fine by dinner. I mean she usually is”

“That ain’t jealousy. That little girl just does not like her and I don’t think that is going to change anytime soon.” he said walking over to her to get her to sit at the table.

By the time Aiysha showed up, Nobomi sat at the table looking bored. She barely touched her dinner despite her father making sure tonight's meal had all her favourite foods. He shared a look with Erik before leaning over to Nobomi.

“ Nobomi wam, I thought you were excited to have some fried plantains. I made sure they made some just how you like it”

“ So she purposely likes it this soggy?” Erik said holding his own portion of plantains up for examining. T’Challa looked his way for a moment before turning back to his child.

“Nobomi can you at least eat half . You cannot go to sleep like this” she stared up at her Baba and saw he was serious. She picked up a piece with her hand and took a bite. T’Challa smiled at her “ Thank you darling”

Aiysha could sense the awkward aura, and knew of course it was her presence in front of the princess. Her and T’Challa got along great whenever it was the two of them. Even in group settings she could tell that they shared similar feelings for each other. But once Nobomi got into the picture, he changed, and so did the mood. She wasn’t good with kids and she felt as though she had really stretched herself trying to befriend the child to no avail.

Aiysha cleared her throat and sat up straighter “I really like your hair Nobomi, it looks very nice”

“ Nono, what do you say?”

Begrudgingly, Nono looked in Aiysha’s direction and muttered “ Thank you”

“ I like it too Nono, I might have to switch up from the dreads, what do you think” Erik said swaying his head, allowing a few of his dreads to fall to his face. His actions earned him a giggle from the little girl.

“ I like your hair as it is Uncle Erik”

“ Thank you baby girl” he looked at T’Challa who nodded “ Nono, I think I’m kinda over dinner too. But I think I have some room for ice cream. You want in?” The little girl’s eyes lit up for the first time in hours, which comforted T’Challa, who always felt his own heart break when his princess was anything but smiling. She looked at her father asking for permission. He smiled back, giving her permission.

She stood up excitedly but stopped when she realized her Baba was not moving.

“Baba, what are you waiting for?”

“ I think I will stay here with Aiysha, I don’t think she wants any ice cream. Do you want ice cream Aiysha?” Aiysha shook her head no. Nobomi’s frown returned

“ Well then she can just go home then” she said with her hands on her waist, her stance reminded him of her mother.

“ Nono! That was not very nice of you” T’Challa exclaimed, shocked at the things that come out of his daughters mouth. “ I’m going to need you to apologize right now”

Nono stared at her father with teary eyes, not ready to apologize. Her father stared back, knowing eventually she would budge, but his child seemed nowhere close to apologize.

Aiysha saw nothing coming from this situation so she lightly touched T’Challa’s arm “Honey it’s fine”

“ Yeah T, let it go. Nono, let's go alright” Erik said walking over to stand by Nono. T’Challa exhaustingly broke the stare off. Nobomi took that as an opportunity to run to the door stomping her feet as she went. T’Challa knew she was upset with him mostly, but there was no point pushing it now.

Erik followed Nono out the door, T’Challa and Aiysha finished eating eventually clearing the tension. And just like that T’Challa was a different person, less worried, calmer and carefree.

They were cuddled up on the couch, T’Challa peaked at his watch, it was getting late and he knew Erik would be back soon with Nono. Hopefully his daughter be in a better mood. He moved over thinking it was a better time to talk about the events that occurred with Aiysha. He kept his arm on her thigh as he moved to face her. Aiysha noticed and moved to face him, her smile large as she looked at him adoringly, playfully touching his face.

“I just wanted to talk about what happened at dinner. I am sorry about Nobomi’s behaviour. She is taking much longer than I thought to adjust to this situation” Aiysha’s composure shifted, her face becoming less jovial.

“Yes, well I don’t know how much longer this can really go on. I haven’t done a thing to that child and she continues to treat me as though I have insulted her in some way.” T’Challa felt himself get defensive of his daughter.

“She is only six, so her behaviour is expected to an extent. It has just been her and I for her whole life so I don’t blame her for taking time to adjust. And for the record, you could try a little harder to appease her.” Aiysha scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“What else would you have me do? Braid her hair? I can only smile oh so much pretending like I don’t notice her disdain for me.” Aiysha countered looking away from T’Challa. Her tone made it clear she was bored of the conversation

“Well you are going to have to if you see this relationship going anywhere.” Aiysha turned her head sharply to look at T’Challa.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, that whoever I am with has to have a positive relationship with my child” said harshly, his voice slowly rising.

“Have you ever considered it is your child’s presence that is limiting this relationship. When she isn’t around, you are a completely different person, more relaxed, happy. “

“I am happy around my daughter as well” T’Challa screwed up his face confused as to where this conversation was going.

“It’s different T’Challa. I really like you, but I can’t see this going far if Nobomi is going to be an obstacle course every step of the day” She finished picking up her wine glass and taking a sip.

“So what would you have me do?” he said tiredly

“I don’t know, boarding school” T’Challa had never turned his head as fast as he did to look at Aiysha in that moment. He felt his anger rising as he tried to breathe through it.

“I hope that was a terrible joke you decided to tell.”

“It wasn’t, at least partially, perhaps, evidently the little girl needs some distance from you because she relies on you too much.” T’Challa got up and started pacing back and forth. Aiysha watched him for a moment, slowly sipping her drink. “The way I see it, it is a win-win situation, Nono becomes more independent while you and I can explore our relationship, which I think can go very far, outside of her.”

“You don’t get to call her that” he countered sharply

“What?”

“I said, you do not get to call her Nono. She only likes it when people she is close to call her that. And clearly you are not one of them. “ Aiysha’s mouth remained agape “I have decided that this is definitely not going to work. I cannot be with someone who doesn’t understand that my child is my first priority. Let alone see shipping her off to boarding school as a solution for her acting out. For you to even offer the idea is just -” He caught himself before he said something too harsh.

“Anyways, it was nice while it lasted. I wish you nothing but joy in your life Aiysha.”

“You are not serious, T’Challa, you are ending this over such a small issue!” She exclaimed, T’Challa took the glass from her hand. He held his other up gesturing towards the door. “Fine, it was nice knowing you too” Aiysha stated matter-of-factly.

T’Challa collapsed back on the couch listening to the sound of Aiysha’s heels slowly disappear before he was left with the silence of his own thoughts. How could he have ever considered a relationship with Aiysha going anywhere. Maybe Nono’s attitude was a clear sign this was not going to work, and he should have taken it. Maybe this was a sign that both him and Nobomi were not ready for him to reopen his love life. And quite frankly, he did not mind waiting, as long as it meant that his princess was happy, her smile was the only one he truly cared about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time that Erik had gotten home, Nobomi was asleep in his arms. He had placed her in her bed before T’Challa explained what a trainwreck the night had become. Erik agreed it was for the best and left T’Challa to go through his thoughts alone. He had crawled into bed and for the first time in a little while he truly missed the comfort of his wife. He never remembered it being this hard, everything had been so easy with her. Even the fights and worries they had. Everyday seemed to be a passing reminder he would never have that ease that came with love again. He spent the next day waiting for the hours to pass before Nono got back from school. He just wanted to talk to her and make sure that she was okay.

She had barely spoken at dinner, but it was also wash day, so T’Challa allowed her to sit in her silence as he twisted her hair after applying deep conditioner. He placed the shower cap on her head. He watched her run to his bed and lay in the middle staring at the ceiling. He walked over and dragged her by the foot making her giggle. He sat down and pick up her foot, placing a kiss before steadying her tiny foot on his lap. He brought out the nail clipper he was holding and began the mini pedicure. He did the first foot quietly before deciding to talk to Nobomi.

“Nobomi wam, I just wanted to say I am sorry about how dinner went yesterday. You were clearly uncomfortable and I should have paid more attention to that”

“It’s okay Baba, I forgive you” she said wiggling her toes

“You know I love you so much right? Baba never means to make you upset at him” she nodded as he finished before moving to put her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

“How about we go get ice cream tomorrow since I couldn’t go yesterday” She stared at him doubtingly.

“Is your friend going to come?” T’Challa chuckled as he shook his head no.

“I don’t think Aiysha will be hanging with us anymore” Nobomi smiled widely.

“Okay then!” she exclaimed before jumping on the bed in joy. T’Challa smiled and watched her jump a few times before he heard the doorbell ring.

“Okay that is enough jumping on the bed” he said as he headed to the door. As he walked over, he found himself smiling, soon realizing that he is content with his little family and the simplicity of his life at the moment. He was more than okay going through the motions that he felt were a comfortable pace.

He opened the door, and for a moment he was sure he had the wind knocked out of him. The women with gorgeous dark features stared back for a moment, unsure on how to respond. Eventually she raised her hand and waved.

“Hello Kumkani, I am Akina, Adanna’s sister, Nobomi’s nanny?” T’Challa shook his head clearing his thoughts before nodding as he recognized the name. At the same time Nobomi came running into Akina’s arms squealing with joy.

“Hello Nono, how are you darling?”

“I’m good, what are you doing here?” T’Challa watched the interaction trying his best to not stare, which was difficult as he found himself being mesmerized by Akina’s smile.

“Well you forgot your teddy in the car with Miss Adanna today. She couldn’t come back herself so she asked me to bring it.” Nono took the teddy that been with her since she was born.

“Thank you Miss Akina” said before running back in, T’Challa turned to look at her for a second, before turning back to Akina.

“So you are Adanna’s older sister then?” Akina nodded

“Yes, sometimes she brings Nono around when we have our lunches. She is a very sweet girl, she talks about her Baba a lot so.” She said with a soft smile

“Hopefully mostly good things.”

“Yes, well the little girl seems to not like your snoring when watching movies” T’Challa suddenly felt embarrassed. Of course his child would expose him like this. He covered his face with one hand. Akina let out a soft giggle that brought a smile to T’Challa’s face. He let himself take in her beauty once again, and for a moment, it appeared she was doing the same.

“Baba! The timer went off!” Nobomi’s voice quickly brought T’Challa back to reality

“I should get going, thanks again Kumkani” Akina said slowly backing away down the long palace hall.

“You can call me T’Challa by the way, no need for formalities” She nodded while continuing to move slowly.

“Well it was lovely meeting you T’Challa”

“You as well Akina” he said with a wave. Nobomi calling for him forced him to close the door before turning to walk back into his bedroom. As he did, he caught himself smiling wide and yet somehow he couldn’t get himself to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Love,

Well it appears you gave the sign, and believe me, I heard it loud and clear. Evidently Aiysha is out of the picture. I really did not see things ending the way that it did. It only made me appreciate what we had even more. Everything felt so easy with us, there were no questions or doubts. Most likely because we were young, and there wasn’t a child to consider in all of our decisions.

Despite it being more difficult, I am somehow not as discouraged as I was earlier. You used to say “What is mine will come to me” and I still believe that to be true. And as I wait for those that are mine, I will focus on raising our rambunctious child who surprises me everyday. She tires me out most days, but her enthusiasm for life reminds me of you. You used to be the positivity that I sometimes could not create for myself, and every day Nobomi becomes that.

Speaking of what I believe is mine, I am going to take the coincidental arrival of Akina as a sign. If it is what I think it is, perhaps you could send another sign as to how I can approach this in a way that is comfortable for both I and Nono. It is still interesting to think of how far I have come since your passing. It seems as though with each year I grow a little more. Even then, it is still hard to navigate this world without my best friend. But as always, I know that you are watching over us, and there is not that we can’t do without the guidance of my morning glory.

Yours Forever,

T’Challa

_______________________________________________________________________________

Taglist:

@writingmarvellousimagines @chaneajoyyy @abrunettefangirlnerd @ashanti-notthesinger @ghostfacekill-monger @mellowjellow6

#t'challa x reader #T'Challa #sunshinewrites #black panther fanfiction

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sunbird-tells-stories · 5 years

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What are your headcanons for Omi, Clay, and Raimundo in reference to MW? If you don't get the chance to fit everything into your story, would you consider writing one-shots to go along with it? What was your inspiration for writing MW, aside from wanting a Jack Spicer redemption? What's your writing process? How long have you been writing? Are there other fandoms you're into besides XS?

This is going to get LONG and I don’t want to split it up because internet is bad here so apologies In advance but here we go:

What are your headcanons for Omi, Clay, and Raimundo in reference to MW?

I’ll start writing them and posting them as soon as I finish answering this one. It might take a bit, but you’ll see them up in a few hours or so.

Believe it or not those headcanons help me a lot when it comes to figuring out characters. So thanks for asking! I appreciate it.

If you don't get the chance to fit everything into your story, would you consider writing one-shots to go along with it?

Hell. Yes.

There is SO much I want to do. I want to write about how each Dragon found their element. I want to write ALL OF THE SHIP FUEL for Jack x Jermaine x Timber. I want to write about them having little mini episodic breather adventures in lots of different countries and cities, I’m talking Mumbai, St Petersburg, Venice, Paris, Capetown, Aguascalientes, Melbourne, everywhere! And maybe run ins with villains, for no reason. I want to write about them teaching each other about their strengths, like Jack explaining science to Jermaine and Timber or Timber teaching them two city boys how to fish and forage for food.

Also more moments of Jermaine reigning these two natural disasters in and teaching them how to be actual people. Because that’s always fun.

I want to write little moments between characters in Team Xiaolin during their quest to track down Team Spicer and I want to write moments between Seon Yeong, Rai and Kim as a trio. I want to write post-MW! Fics between characters and how they learn and grow after the events of the story - especially Kimiko and Timber as total opposites and the only two girls on the team. And I really want to write a ‘beach episode’ where Jack, Jermaine and Timber just end up warping to a tropical area and just have fun for once.

I want to write solo fics about Jack and Jermaine and their personal struggles as they grow up with their own troubles prior to MW!

And a part of me really, really wants to start posting a mini fic about Timber’s life in Silent Harbor, to show her slow, sad descent into the troubled teen she has now become and as a build up to the events of Chapter 6 of MW! where she runs into Jack for the first time. It would be SO spoiler-y though.

There’s a lot that might not fit in MW! And I would definitely write a bunch of mini stories. I don’t know who would be interested in reading all of that, but I might do it just to brainstorm ideas and explore character interactions.

What was your inspiration for writing MW, aside from wanting a Jack Spicer redemption?

I’ve been wanting to tell a XS story since I was a kid! This show was my everything! The characters were my everything. And even now it holds a special place in my heart. So the drive to write something for this fandom has always been there.

As for MW! itself....I’ve always had a fondness for Jack Spicer. I’ve always wanted him to find some semblance of happiness and have someone there so he’s not alone. And a long time ago, that someone became Timber.

But Timber wasn’t who she is today. She was Latina, and Californian, and a bubbly pink ray of sunshine and positivity. And Jack had a crush on her and she was his bestie and she was essentially an overly competent sidekick for him and then Clay had a crush on her and she was the Dragon Of Wood and Jack was the Dragon Of Metal and he was going to sell his soul to the Heylin side to finally earn Chase’s approval and she was gonna save him from himself...well, you get the picture. And I liked her a lot, and I still miss that version of her sometimes, but...she wasn’t interesting enough. And there wasn’t really a story there. At least not much of one. What was there could have been interesting on its own, but it was pretty self indulgent and I don’t think anyone besides me would have enjoyed reading it. And that’s no fun.

Then I had the idea to somehow bind Timber, an innocent civilian girl, to Jack through magic by having her make the idiotic mistake of betting herself in a Showdown with him over a Wu that was hers and then lose, and then essentially being dragged along on all of his adventures and slowly becoming friends with him while hilarity ensues. Then I had the idea to make a game breaking Wu that just...caused trouble. And the story then became about Jack accidentally dragging a civilian girl along on a warpy portally adventure with that Wu and run into all these villains as they become friends.

But when I did this, it didn’t feel balanced. I had someone on the Heylin side and I had someone who was Neutral. So then I needed someone as a buffer between Jack and Timber so they didn’t kill each other and to represent the side of Good aka someone who was Xiaolin.

And then Jermaine came along!

And as I developed the story more, I realized I wanted to tell something serious, and have all the characters grow and play off of each other and talk about the XS universe and answer questions and give everyone this big, long journey and great trial and give Jack actual character development and actual friends/love interests and have someone from Chinese Mythology be the Xiaolin’s ultimate adversary and Jack’s final test of character. And along the way, MW! was born.

And I’m really grateful for that.

What's your writing process?

Usually first I write up a few ideas of what I want to happen, like the general flow of the chapter. Then I make a chronological skeleton of dialogue, and I tweak it until I’m satisfied. Then I write the rest of the stuff like actions and descriptions.

One of my flaws is being redundant. Another is being overly wordy. So after I write it all out, I try to trim it down and tweak it as best as I can until these flaws are no more (I sometimes skip stuff) and then I just play around with the chapter until it feels right. It has to strike an emotional chord with me and get me excited to write it before I publish it. If I don’t feel that spark, it doesn’t go up.

I had a few people in the fandom volunteer to be beta readers, but my chapters are so long...so right now it’s just a couple of my closest friends who are looking at it, the main one being my friend CVD, who also wants to be a writer. She’s got a good eye for what does and doesn’t belong and I’m forever thankful. My other two, Trinket and Papillion, look over it and help let me know how they feel about things so they’re also a big help. So shoutout to you guys!

And then after all that noise, my stuff goes up.

However, my older chapters could use one final spellcheck and revision so I’ll eventually go back and polish those up a bit. Typos man. Typos....

A lot of times I’ll also take breaks to do some research and find inspiration music. Honestly there are days where I can’t figure a character or a scene out until I find JUST the right song for inspiration. And since a lot of characters in my fic are from a different country and cultural background than mine, I’ll do plenty of research to try to stay true to who they are. I’m doing a lot of research on the Bedouin tribe and its history and looking for a lot of pretty Middle Eastern music right now, for example. YouTube is a great resource for these things! Bless the internet!

How long have you been writing?

Since forever! I’ve always been making up stories in my head! And they’d get elaborate too! I’ve built so many worlds and characters just by playing around as a little kid, I can’t even begin where to start talking about them all. As I grew, I started to write them down and now I want to get serious about it! Besides Monkey Wrench!, I want to write a fanfic for the Ducktales 2017 fandom and the Black Butler fandom, and I have two original novel ideas I want to write out and get published. It’s my dream to make stories that other people love and that inspire others to learn, write, make stuff and have adventures and stuff. Literally my dream is to make stories that get a buttload Of fanart and cosplays and fanfic and just...move the world for the better somehow. That is my highest goal rn. Being a published and famous author.

Are there other fandoms you're into besides XS?

Hell yeah! Although I do tend to have periods where I hyper fixate on one at a time. Besides Xiaolin Showdown, I also like Gravity Falls, Storm Hawks, Steven Universe, Star vs The Forces Of Evil, and Ducktales 2017. There were a lot more in the past, such as Teen Titans, King Falls AM, The Boondocks, and Samurai Champloo, but I haven’t been very active in those fandoms as of late.

I really need to get into Tangled: The Series, OK KO, Victor and Valentino, and Craig Of the Creek. They all look phenomenal, I just don’t have time to get into them all yet.

#xiaolin showdown fanfiction #xiaolin showdown monkey wrench #monkey wrench!#xs monkey wrench #xiaolin showdown monkey wrench!#sunbird answers #nneefa #thank you so much #seriously i needed an ask that traffic was awful!!!#and as always thank you for reading!#monkey wrench! spoilers #jack spicer #xiaolin showdown oc #jack spicer xiaolin showdown #xiaolin showdown jack spicer #jermaine xiaolin showdown #xiaolin showdown jermaine #timber wilde #xiaolin showdown timber

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erisgregory · 5 years

Text

Satellite Call Chapter 5

cross posted to AO3

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Relationship: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes Characters: Michael Guerin, Alex Manes Additional Tags: Michael is an Escort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary: Alex is home from the air force but finds he is as lonely as ever. He engages an escort one night under a pseudonym and when the escort arrives it’s his high school love, Michael Guerin. Thankfully for both of them Michael is a professional. However one night couldn’t possibly make up for all they’ve missed. Can they keep an ongoing relationship professional? Can they learn to trust that there is something more than this transaction between them?

Alex doesn’t email Michael the next day like he wants to. Or the day after that. In fact he controls himself enough that he thinks maybe it’s over and he can go about mourning the loss and get on with his life somehow. He knows he can’t keep seeing Michael like that. Using him like that. It’s beyond wrong. It was going to be bad enough hiring an escort in the first place, but now that it’s Michael, it just feels bad. Like he’s doing something bad.

Not because Michael is an escort, he has no problem with people who do sex work or benefit from it, but he himself knows that he was just hiring someone because he couldn’t get anyone else. It was supposed to be a one and done sort of deal. Instead he has all these feelings for Michael that he can’t keep hidden forever and he’s still using the escort service to see him instead of reaching out to him properly.

So he doesn’t email and he gets no email from Michael either. And the days slowly pass by.

Soil samples out at the ranch come back pretty suspicious and that’s just another reason to stay away from Michael. As if he needed more.

Finally it’s the night of the reunion and Alex almost doesn’t go. Liz was pretty awkward when they’d run into each other at the bar and he figures people will either be awkward or indifferent and neither of those things sound very fun. Plus Michael might be there. In the end he decides that Michael probably won’t show because it’s not exactly his scene, and he dresses to go.

The reunion is small, afterall the didn’t have a huge graduating class to begin with and a lot of people that did graduate left town as soon as they could. But still there’s Maria who talks to him a bit and the music is good. Everything goes smoothly until he spots the one person he wants to avoid. What makes it worse is that said person is chatting up a girl Alex can’t quite remember. And they look very comfortable together.

Alex can’t quite pinpoint the feeling that rushing through him causing him to walk toward Michael and not away, but he’s slightly relieved when the girl Michael’s with gets up and walks away.

“So, are you cooking meth?” Alex asks him when he reaches him. He’s pitched his voice so that they won’t be overheard.

“Yeah absolutely.” Michael snaps back.

“I’m serious. My chemical engineers found high levels of phenyl-2-propanone around your airstream.” Alex tells him plainly. It doesn’t look good.

Michael stands up and makes to leave but Alex blocks him. He’s not letting Michael go until he gets some kind of answer. He has to know if Michael’s been doing something illegal out there.

Michael sighs. “It’s not P2P they’re detecting. It’s similar. You should find yourself some better engineers.” Then he tries to move past Alex again.

This time Alex stops him with a hand on his arm. “You’re wasting your life Guerin.” In so many ways, he thinks. Maybe he does have an issue with sex workers or maybe he just has an issue with Michael being one.

Michael looks down at Alex’s hand and sneers. “You trying to hold my hand private?”

Alex can’t believe the animosity and sheer nerve Michael has. He acts like Alex is the one in the wrong here. “Don’t you ever get tired of these games?”

Michael moves in just a hair closer. “I don’t know, do you?”

This time when Michael tries to get past, Alex lets him go. His eyes follow Michael to the girl he was chatting up before. She’s retrieved a drink for him and he takes a big swig out of it before shooting Alex a final glance. Then he puts his arm around the girl and leads her into the crowd.

Alex walks around bit, but as he’d suspected not many people have much to say to him. He wasn’t exactly popular in high school. So he goes to get his palm read by Maria.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come over here.” Maria says as he sits in front of her.

“You probably shouldn’t say things like that, people will think you aren’t the real deal.” He teases.

“Ooh, you’re right.” She says, dropping her voice conspiratorially. Then she lays her hand out on the table between them, palm up. Alex knows the drill. He’s had his palm read by her before.

Alex lays his hand on top of her and she leans in close, examining the lines, reading his future, however she does it. Her brow creases fairly quickly.

“Uh, oh.” Alex jokes. “That doesn’t look good, what is it?”

She shakes her head and flashes him a smile. “Nothing, it’s nothing, I’m sure.”

“Come on DeLuca, out with it.” He says.

“It’s just, I think you might need to be on the lookout for an enemy. Someone close to you maybe. Just keep an eye out, okay?” She runs her finger over a line on his hand and then blows out her breath, giving him another smile, this one just a touch on the tight side.

“An enemy.” Alex murmurs. “Got it. What else?” “Well, let me see. You’ve seen that special someone again.” She says slyly.

“Mmhm, but you knew that already.” Alex says with a laugh.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me how much fun you had!” She accuses.

“Fine, fine, I did have a lot of fun. But it can’t happen again.” He tells her.

Maria narrows her eyes at him. “Why not?” She asks plainly.

“Because I don’t know what Guerin is up to out at that ranch, but I know it’s no good. He was so shifty about it.” Alex answers.

Maria leans forward and taps his palm with one finger. “That’s not your reason.” She says.

“Maybe not, but it should be.” Alex huffs.

After his palm reading Alex just wants to go. He grabs a beer and heads to the back to look at the pictures of their class that are projected up on the walls before heading out. When he finds one of himself on a skateboard he has to stop and stare. Immediately he feels the loss of his leg. It aches because he’s had the prosthetic on too long that day. So he hitches it up on a speaker and prods at it, trying to adjust it and get some relief. It doesn’t really work so he rolls his pant leg back down.

When he looks up it’s to see Michael standing in the doorway. Alex swallows because as upset as he is with Michael he still looks so good and Alex just wants him, wants it to be simple between them.

“Nostalgia’s a bitch huh?” he says, his beer dangling from one hand.

Alex shakes his head. Nostalgia isn’t even the half of it. “I thought for sure when I got back from Iraq you’d be long gone.” And it’s true. Michael was smart. He should have had a free ride to anywhere he wanted. Yet here he was still in Roswell doing god knew what out in his trailer and selling his body for money.

“Is that what you want?” Michael asks as he walks closer. The lights are dim for the pictures but Alex can see the look on his face plainly enough. It’s too open, too needy for everything that’s passed between them. It reminds Alex of when they were seventeen and that hurts.

“We’re not kids anymore.” Alex tries, but he can’t help but step ever closer to Michael. He’s being pulled in whether he wants to be or not. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

Michael hesitates just a moment as they look into each other’s eyes and then he reaches for Alex, pulls him in by the neck and kisses him. It’s hot and hungry and so needy that it makes Alex’s chest ache. This. This is what he wants. He pours that want into the kiss, his fears go too, the fact that he can’t seem to say what he really thinks without fucking things up, all of it goes into that kiss.

When Michael pulls back he leans his forehead against Alex’s. “You didn’t write.” He says softly.

Alex knows he means through email and he wants to tell him why, but Michael pulls away, turns to leave before Alex can get up the courage to speak up. Then he’s gone and Alex is left alone brooding with his memories once more.

The next Monday he sees his father. So far he hasn’t had to have too much direct contact with him alone, but this time there’s no one around to be a buffer for him.

“I need you to go post an eviction for Guerin. We need that airstream gone in twenty four hours. The sale of the ranch just went through.” His father says bluntly and then passes him the notice. “Go post this on his door and if you see him tell him we have no problem moving that pile of trash ourselves if he doesn’t.”

“Got it.” Alex tells him. Just what he wants to do. Go see Guerin and tell him he officially doesn’t have a home any more.

“I mean it, Alex, I want him gone.” His father leans in close. “Don’t make me have to find someone else.”

“I said I got it.” Alex tells him, his voice strained just a bit. His father looks like he might say something else, but decides against it and leaves.

Alex deflates the tiniest bit in his absence. He hates working with his dad but it’s all he has right now. He’s been thinking of being dishonorably discharged but then what? It’s not like he had a back up plan.

So he drives out to the ranch. The Airstream is blessedly empty, so he begins to tape the notice to the door. He feels awful about it, but he can’t help but be relieved he isn’t going to have to see Michael. It’s too soon. He’d made a mistake at the reunion kissing him like that. Hadn’t he said that what he wanted didn’t matter? It still doesn't. There is too much history between them and too much present in the way.

Alex is almost done when he hears the truck coming up the drive. Great, he thinks. Just what he needs right now.

#malex #malex fics #eris writes fics #satellite call fic

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orbyssarchives · 6 years

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A Brief tl;dr

This is probably a lot to say for 20 unfinished webcomic pages and I know I can be fairly long-winded so if you just wanna skip ahead and click through the pictures I’ve put up, I understand.

The TL;DR is

Hello and welcome to Mage Punk Archives! My name is Tables and this is some of the work that I’ve done over the last few years and what I’ve been up to in my little corner of the world. This is the third and last of a series of posts, outlining a number of updates that I completed on the site.

Included are some of my inspirations and a little of what I’ve learned so far about myself as an ever growing artist up to this point.

After this, I want to keep the content more focused on the actual art and story.

I’ll post to this site as often as I am able.

Thanks for reading!

***

Long Ago, Before the miracle of handheld internet searches and Instagram

When I was but a young, internet webling, I was heavily into shitty online flash games and looking for anything even remotely related to my interests at the time. From Mario and Sonic to various comics, videos games, anime and things never to be said aloud (pornpornporn). My love of the likes of Super Mario Bros and Sonic the Hedgehog (big fandoms for me at the time) would later lead me to sprite comics. Today, my feelings for the little hodge podge collage strips of old video game sprite sheets and backgrounds are a little mixed.

(They were beautiful and I’m gonna make one someday)

Then, in Highschool, I took a basic Web Design class. It was a VVoid World Web of Notepad and Internet Explorer where a kindly old crone passed on to those of us there, some knowledge of the ancient runic language which forms the foundations of the World Wide Web: HTML. Tables, frames, css, oh my! This knowledge would eventually prove invaluable.

Throughout our studies we were occasionally allowed to venture out into the Wider World Web. It was during these little adventures and travels across the Web that I happened upon the magical land of Webcomics. It was also during this time that I began break free of the enchantment of sprites. Even though I would probably never return to them, they would always hold a special place in my heart.

The Internet is for [Comics]

Webcomics – Synonymous with “Masochism”

At first, I had no idea just how grueling webcomics could be. Most webcomic artists pump out pages one to three times a week. At the time I got into them, MegaTokyo, then still partially a video game webcomic, was just releasing its third printed book; 2-3 updates a week with a loosely set schedule. Evan Dahm was wrapping up his surreal fantasy epic, Rice Boy; with updates consistently going up Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The various sprite and drawn webcomics that I was following at the time were updating all the time. Seeing all the great work going up, I felt encouraged to try it myself.

I drew these closer to the end of my junior year of high school.

Desu

Taking major inspiration from a lot of the manga and anime that I was enjoying then, I used pen and ink to make my comic pages. I liked working in black and white because it felt direct and skipping on color made it easier to finish faster. I figured I could work faster if I didn’t have to worry about the extra step. When I did want to use color, as is typical for the early pages of a new manga, I used markers.

At the time, I had no idea that mangakas used assistants. That’s messed up.

Not to say that it was completely unrealistic, but back in the real world I could only average one black and white page a week. If even. The spider webs I was drawing all over were so that I wouldn’t have to use a ruler to draw my panel proper borders. I thought it gave the comic an “old archive”. In the end, I concluded that the spider webs should have their place and not be all over.

This time, I decided to work a little more carefully and deliberately.

Moving Forward

It was going pretty well but by the time page 7 rolled around, it was time for midterms and I had become too self-conscious and uncomfortable with the way I was drawing my comic pages then. Then, it was time to take finishing high school seriously and before I knew it, I was a freshman at The Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale. I did a lot of growing in the next four years that I attended there. Unfortunately, I never revisited those pages. Instead, near the end of my sophomore year, I took a Sequential Art class where the Final was a full-color, 5-page comic.

These are the ink-wash versions of the 7-page Final that I submitted. I’d originally colored them digitally to meet project requirements but I don’t want to post those just yet..

In the End

I wasn’t satisfied. The truth was that I waited until the last minute, rushed it, and over-reached on a re-draw that wasn’t much fun for me to work on. During the course of that Sequential Art class my professor turned my attention to artists like Moebius and Mike Mignola. I also came across Katsuya Terada’s stuff around this time.

And school went on…

I worked on Mage Punk when I could between assignments.

Between thinking I could possibly work on a for-print comic…

…and a webcomic at the same time.

The End was Near

Most of these were actually made towards the end of my four years at Ai. Those of us graduating were tasked with compiling our work from the years past in accordance with the requirements for obtaining our degrees. I believe that we were given two semesters to gather our pieces and do any revisions to previous works to get them up to date with the rest of the portfolio piece. Illustration Graduates at AiFL were typically required to gather a required selection of their work into an on-demand printed book. The year that I graduated, my department decided to change things around a little. Specifically, we were given the option to collect the requirement work into a plain black binder portfolio and make the printed book more geared towards our pursuits. I opted to make a Mage Punk/Orbyss Archives “Zine” as my main portfolio piece.

And Then College was Over

I drew a few more pages of the comic until I became employed full-time. These days, there aren’t enough free hours in my days for me to keep up with any typical webcomic’s update schedule so for a long while I stopped working on the comic altogether. I’m squeezing as much work out of every second that I’m not there; with whatever energy I can muster. This includes planning, writing, sketching and drawing. Before I got back to work on the site, I was posting fairly regularly to my Twitter and Instagram; those posts took time to do as well.

Most of this post was written in separate sessions on my commutes to work.

“Shortcuts”

Even though I always wanted to present Mage Punk as a webcomic, I always worked on it like it would go to print eventually. This created a confusing mindset for me when working on the comic, where I had to work on a whole book, but I have to rush to finish every page. If I wanted to put out pages more frequently I took shortcuts at any point I could to be done with them. Even if I created a good buffer of finished pages, I’d still run into that same pitfall eventually. I wasn’t enjoying my project because of a pressure I applied on myself to finish it in a way I wasn’t necessarily comfortable with. I didn’t even get that much done in the end.

It’s important that I work on it at a pace that lets me show the best of my ability. I would love it if I could be properly finished with the pages before I post them but if I wait before it’s all good and done I’ll just never get around to posting anything, forever floating, aimlessly, throughout creative internet limbo.

Instead, if I have to work on my comic in piecemeal, I’ll just post it up in piecemeal. Mage Punk will still be presented as a webcomic but, until the end of the book is done, certain changes are still a possibility. Editing is an important part of producing any book and I’m going to make its presentation reflect that.

Cue Rhidiculous shouting “I told you so!” from some nearby bushes.

A Webcomic in Presentation Only?

Those Two Images are the Same Page

Instead of trying to finish things at breakneck speeds, I’m going to work on the comics at a more reasonable pace. I’ll try to work on it mainly Chapter to chapter instead of page to page like how a webcomic normally is done (buffers aside) This gives me the opportunity to take a step back and get a broader look at the story while still putting out content in enjoyable chunks.

It’s difficult for me to wrap my head around drawing a comic on a start-to-finish, page-by-page basis. While I was working on the later pages in the chapter I kept finding myself jumping around and making changes to previous pages to make some things more consistent with later parts of the story. Instead of working page-by-page, I was editing the chapter as a whole to try to strengthen the narrative I’m trying to tell.

To that end, I still want to present it on this site as a webcomic; if only in name and archive.

The Process

At the VERY longtime behest of my editor, I’ll be presenting the comic as a work in progress at various points in the following production stages.

Writing

I’ll post dialog excerpts here and there. Nothing that can spoil the story too much.

This step will be kept largely behind the scenes.

Thumbnails

I do these on index cards in ballpoint pen to figure out the sequence of events that I most prefer.

This is the step where I’m prone to overloading a page with information.

First Drafts

Full size roughs of the earlier thumbnails. This step helps me get a better sense of how crowded or unbalanced a page might be early on.

This step also helps to prune out any strenuous scenes or dialog that could otherwise have their own pages.

If it isn’t working visually at this point, it’s not going to work in the next step.

Pencils

This is where the real drawing happens. Drawings in this step are made by either digital or traditional means depending on when or where I’m working.

Inking

This step is exactly like the drawing step but in pen and ink. Despite my affinity for real pen and ink, I’ll mainly be working this step digitally.

Color

This step is wrought with indecision but it also one of the faster, more fun steps to do.

Lettering

I’ve removed the dialog from all the pages currently up, opting to keep that out until a chapter is completed; it’s the thing I’m likeliest to change the most frequently until the end.

All lettering is currently done digitally but I’m considering the possibility of hand lettering.

Drawing dialog can be quite fulfilling but it takes a lot of practice.

Editing

This part will be happening all throughout. Page re-orders, panel redraws, changes in dialog.

Until the book is done.

Here We Are

I’ve already made some revisions to a handful of the pages that are already up; if you browse through the comics you can see the revisions noted in the comic descriptions. I’ll make blog posts for any major revisions or series of revisions that I do. I have a few ideas for some smaller projects that I can work on while I work on Mage Punk. Whether they be illustrations, stories, or even mini-comics like this silly thing down here.

Moving on

I might have also mentioned before that I have a few other drawings that I wanted to make for the site. In particular I have a neat idea for some social media icon illustrations. I wanna make something that takes advantage of what I’ve learned with using CSS. It’s nothing too fancy.

All that said, future posts will be a bit more brief than these last three were. I’d much rather write and post about the work itself, but I feel like I’ve hit a personal milestone and felt the need to ramble on about it a little.

Until next time,

Thanks for reading!

The Big Site Update (Part 3) A Brief tl;dr This is probably a lot to say for 20 unfinished webcomic pages and

#Comics #Process #Social Media #Website #WIP

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flamingo-queen-writes · 3 years

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I'm always so delighted when I see people sending you notes saying they’ve just discovered the Hazy Saga, and that they love it as much as I do. Out of all the many, many fanfics I’ve read over the years, Hazy still reigns supreme as my all-time favourite. Quick question, please. You mentioned an assassinated Pasha in one of your recent replies. Is that Pavel? The General’s second son? I couldn't immediately recall where he belonged on the blood-soaked Karpov family tree. Thank you!

Believe me, I’m delighted, too. I’ve even been able to write two chapters for the story, even, with the inspiration I’ve gotten, and have been working on another. (not posted, of course. I want to actually have time and a buffer to start posting Red Fish again, so I don’t mislead anyone into thinking it’s going to be regularly updated the way Matador is.)

And I’m honestly surprised people are finding it. Thrilled, of course, because I love reaching new readers and I’m glad they’re enjoying it--but still surprised. The Hazy series has such a special place in my heart, and that version of Soldat might forever be my favorite to work with (the poor dear).

Thank you so much for your kind words! I’m ecstatic to hear you love it so much! 🌈💃✨💕😘

Answer (and therefore spoilers about the General’s family) below the cut~

Pasha is indeed Pavel Ivanovich Karpov. This is the General’s second born son--well, they’re all sons, so I don’t know why I keep making that distinction. He is young enough when Vera enters the picture to really take to her, much to his father’s dismay, and he goes into politics. Climbs pretty high in the Party, too, despite having... indiscretions.

Pavel is a not-nice person who likes to abuse his authority and power. Sometimes this abuse is emotional or blackmail-esque, and sometimes it’s physical. Occasionally even sexual. He has a temper and lashes out when he sense there’s little to no repercussions for him. There’s usually some sort of scandal following him, but it never gets pinned on him explicitly enough to cause him problems.

Most of the family doesn’t really mind him, and Dmitry (Dima, the General’s fourth child, first child of Vera, and father to Maria) actually looks up to him for guidance in his own political career. Vladimir isn’t overly fond of Pasha, and Polina decidedly dislikes him. In Red Fish, she will be given further cause to dislike him.

(The Soldier also generally dislikes him, but no one really cares what he has to think about these things, and he knows better than to voice his opinion.)

In a future story that takes place after Mouse Song, there is a convention of a sort that some of the family attends. Pasha’s indiscretions catch up to him and he doesn’t make it out of the story alive. (If only they had taken the Soldier’s advice.) There is major family disruption following this, including a near-divorce and a permanent relocation to Perm for Maria.

Pasha is a character I don’t think many readers will enjoy, but he’s there, and he helps make things unpleasant for people.

Thank you so much for the ask!!

#Hazy 'verse #Red Fish Minnow Run #General Karpov #Pavel Ivanovich Karpov #Pasha #ask ask ask

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natg1rl-blog · 7 years

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Patience is not my Virtue

Okay, so that thing happened again where life (or more so work) got in the way and I forgot to write for the past umpteen months. I actually forgot about Tumblr altogether to be honest.

I keep coming back to my life-long dream of being an Author and I swear to god... one day I will own that Oceanfront Mansion with an Infinity Pool. I just have to finish this god damn book and push for a publication and then become rich and famous and direct movies in Hollywood... well, no harm in dreaming big right?

This is Chapter 5, Part 1 of ‘Little Black Book’.

Following my introduction to both Ben and Tim, the three of us had become almost inseparable for weeks. Sadly things hadn’t escalated between Ben and me however, not like I had hoped anyway, but I was happy that we were starting to form a friendship because it still pathed the way for something more. As for Tim, he was nothing at all like Ben. I couldn’t quite work out how the two of them had even become friends. They both went to the same school, so they had that in common, but Tim was a little airy-fairy and never quite 'present’ a lot of the time. He always seemed to live in his own world. Whereas Ben appeared to have his head screwed on, well enough for a fourteen year old anyway. Tim was a little older than Ben, but not by much, and he was tall with short mousy brown hair and light brown eyes. He came from a family similar to mine where his mum was an alcoholic and his dad was a bogan. Not that my dad was a bogan, but my mother was certainly an alcoholic.

Ben on the other hand seemed to have a normal family, only they were much stricter with him than what myself or Tim were used to with our own parents. I got along well with Tim because it was almost as though we understood each other in the sense we had similar family backgrounds. I started looking up to him like he were a big brother, which was kind of nice because I had always wanted one. My developing relationship with both Ben and Tim caused me to neglect Sally because I knew of her jealous streak and I could already tell she didn’t support my feelings for Ben. I think she knew that if those feelings were reciprocated, he would take her place. This meant I invited Mila over a lot more often which in turn caused her to become somewhat acquainted with Tim. Unfortunately I learned first hand that you can’t push away your demons forever.

One afternoon when the four of us were spending time together down at the park, Sally had decided to seek me out. I mentioned earlier that Sally wasn’t afraid of a little confrontation... When she found us she screamed at me for being a bad friend and embarrassed me in front of everyone. This resulted in a small argument that barely lasted a day, but I knew that Sal was struggling to handle the fact that she wasn’t the centre of my Universe anymore. After our argument had diffused, Sally integrated back into the group and our social circle began to grow a little bigger. Before long Reese joined and then not too long after that, Ben brought in a new friend of his own called Vin. In the meantime I was patiently waiting for Ben to make a move on me. I could still feel that chemistry between us and I was almost certain that he could feel it too. He was never short of a compliment toward me and the way we got along was different to any way I had gotten on with another guy before. As time went on and nothing progressed I decided to confide in my new big bro.

‘So what’s the deal with Ben?’ I pressed.

Tim instantly smirked at my remark, as though he knew this conversation was inevitable.

‘In terms of him liking you?’ Tim guessed.

‘Yeah.’ I admitted a little shyly.

‘You see Bella, Benny is in a bit of a bind at the moment.’

There was clearly a story behind that statement. Suddenly I began to panic. What was I about to learn about the guy I had been crushing on for the past few weeks?

‘Before meeting you, Ben had a thing for this chick at our school,’ Tim explained, ‘but she didn’t like him back.’

Great, another girl, I thought to myself.

‘Okay.’ I managed, less than thrilled.

‘However, just in the past couple of weeks this particular chick has started showing an interest towards Ben.’ Tim went on.

This story was not getting any better. I wanted to gouge my hair out I was that frustrated.

‘Great.’ I said, unable to hide my disappointment.

‘I haven’t finished.’ Tim smiled.

Oh? I thought to myself once more.

‘He’s a little bit torn about what to do because although he likes her, he really likes you.’

Words I had been wanting to hear since laying eyes upon the kid. Unfortunately it came with a bit more baggage than I liked though.

‘Do you know what he’s intending to do?’ I had to know.

Tim shook his head.

‘Sorry Bella.’

I felt like I had just taken one step forward and two steps back. This other girl had an advantage over me because they went to the same school. I couldn’t compete with that.

I of course made the mistake of venting to Sally about my current predicament and this did not go down well with her. Her entire attitude towards me changed and she really didn’t like the fact that someone was finally interested in me over her. She became very possessive over me and wanted to take up all of my time so that there was none left for Ben. Not to mention when we did hang out all she would do was complain about Ben, almost picking at faults that weren’t even there just to try and diminish my opinion of him. The next time I caught up with Ben I knew that we had to have a conversation. In my eyes the only people standing in the way of our happiness was Sally, and this rando from his school.

‘So a little birdy told me that you have a crush.’ I decided to tease.

Ben went bright red and suddenly I realized he may have thought I was talking about myself.

‘On a girl at your school.’ I quickly corrected.

Ben let out a sigh of relief.

‘Oh.’ He said barely.

‘What’s her name?’ I asked curiously.

‘Jane.’ Was his reply.

Such a vanilla name, I hated her already.

‘I don’t like her though. I mean I did, but I don’t know anymore.’ He tried to explain.

‘Oh… why’s that?’ I tried to play dumb.

Ben went silent for a moment.

‘I may have feelings for someone else.’ He admitted to me.

My heart skipped a beat and I tried to contain my grin, but I’m pretty sure I was failing miserably.

‘I see.’ I smiled shyly, wondering if he was about to kiss me.

When I realized that wasn’t going to happen I felt it necessary to bring up our next speed bump.

‘We need to talk about Sal,’ I started, ‘she’s, I guess you can say, jealous… of our friendship.’ I informed him.

Ben took a second to process my sentence.

‘Why would she be jealous?’ He wondered.

I shrug my shoulders.

‘I feel like we may need to set her up with someone. It may be the only way she will get off my back.’ I said.

Immediately Ben’s best friend popped into mind. Vin was another one of Ben and Tim’s mates’ from school. He was attractive enough for Sally to even consider going there, and he also seemed to sport that dark and brooding vibe she seemed to like in a guy.

It was a Saturday afternoon when Ben and I decided to set up our friends. I had mentioned to Sally that everyone wanted to hang out that day, but I did fail to mention the part about it being a set up. I knew that if Sally knew what it was, she would never go for it out of pure spite. I was unsure though if Ben had told Vin why we were meeting up. At the same time I had a stroke of genius and decided to invite Renee and Tim along, just as a bit a buffer but also to see if any sparks were likely to fly between the two of them as it seemed to be a slow burn between he and my sister and I was unsure if that was ever going to escalate. The three of us girls got together at my house first before making our way down to the park where we were to meet up with the boys. Tim’s house was on our way so we collected him and then made our congregation. After the pleasantries were out of the way we somewhat all grouped off and got acquainted with each other further. As hours began to pass I decided to try and work my magic on Reese as somewhat of a practice run before I had to tackle the real thing.

‘Just out of pure curiosity, what do you think of Tim?’ I asked slyly.

Renee scrunched up her face and I already knew that was not a good sign.

‘He’s not really my type.’ She admitted to me.

I had to be honest with her.

‘Oh, I don’t blame you.’ We both laughed in unison.

I did like the kid but he was not all there at the best of times.

After that epic fail I tried a different approach and started with Vin before debriefing with Sal. Ben, Vin and I sat up on the playground while the other three chatted by the swings.

‘Any thoughts man?’ Ben asked his friend.

‘About what?’ Was Vin’s response.

I knew he knew what Ben was talking about, he was just playing coy.

‘Sally.’ I chimed in impatiently.

Vin didn’t answer straight away.

‘Yeah she’s alright.’ He finally admitted.

Ben’s eyes met with mine and I could see a smile forming behind them.

‘Would you wanna hang out with her more… say one on one?’ I pushed.

Once again Vin didn’t answer immediately. He liked to keep us guessing with his monosyllabic personality.

‘I barely even know her.’ He responded.

I laughed.

‘That’s the whole point of hanging out more.’ I joked, hoping not to push him too hard.

It felt like minutes had passed by before he gave his final response.

‘Yeah, alright.’

I had to contain my inner squeal but I definitely couldn’t control the smile on my face. I could not wait for the first time I’d feel Ben’s lips on mine. Feel his embrace. Be in love.

‘Awesome, I’m gonna go tell her!’ I said blissfully before heading off towards the others with a certain spring in my step.

When I met up with the other three, Tim wisely took the hint and went back to join the boys.

‘So I’ve got some goss.’

Both of the girls eyes were glued to me, hanging on my every word.

‘Vin’s keen to hang out with you.’ I told Sally excitedly, hoping this wasn’t about to backfire.

Sally looked at me as though she thought I was bluffing.

‘I’m being serious.’ I promised.

‘Why?’ She wondered, as though there were an ulterior motive to everything.

Even though there was in this instance..

‘What do you mean why?’ I laughed.

‘Why would he like me?’ She asked in a self deprecating way.

‘Are you being serious?’ I said impatiently.

Renee stayed silent. Sally was not about to ruin this for me by being a drama queen.

‘Have you seen yourself?’ I asked her, trying my very hardest to butter the bitch up.

Sally smiled, I knew that compliments were the way to her heart. Or ego.

‘You’re amazing; he’d be an idiot not to hang out with you.’

You catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar.

It didn’t take too much convincing before Sally caved. Now that all the wheels had been put in motion, I just had to wait.

As the sun began to set on the day we all decided to start making our way back to my place before heading our separate ways. Ben and I took the lead whilst Vin and Sal trailed closely behind us. I couldn’t help but feel bad for Reese being stuck right at the back with Tim, but she was a good friend and she knew how to take one for the team. As I glanced behind me I couldn’t help but notice that Vin and Sal were holding hands. I nudged Ben.

‘Wow. I can’t believe it worked.’ He said proudly.

‘Me either actually.’ I admitted to him.

Awkward silence began to intrude on our conversation. Not to mention my heart would not stop racing in my chest and I felt as though everyone could hear it! I knew that if I didn’t say something now then we could be doing this same dance for months to come.

‘Have you thought anymore about your current situation?’ I pried.

Ben took a page out of Vin’s book and didn’t answer me straight away. I was dying inside.

‘Not really.’ He answered finally.

Such a typical male response.

‘Well, we took care of one issue so there’s really only one more standing in the way.’ I mentioned.

‘She’s not standing in the way Bella.’ He told me.

It took a second to process what that meant.

‘What does that mean then?’ I had to know immediately, but Ben stayed quiet for a little while longer.

‘Is there anything else standing in the way?’ I wondered.

Had I missed something? Maybe he legitimately wasn’t into me.

‘I guess... not.’ He admitted.

I didn’t think that my heart could pound any harder but it was proving me wrong with each beat.

‘I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something important.’ He told me, the suspense growing profoundly.

‘Ask me now.’ I pushed.

Apparently patience was not one of my virtues.

‘Will you…. Go out with me?’

Oh, my, god! Breathe Bella.

I could not believe after four weeks, two days and fourteen hours I had finally heard the words I was dying to hear come from his mouth since the first day I saw him get on my bus. My smile was too forceful to contain and I let out this really embarrassing yelp that I wished I could take back immediately. Ben smiled, flattered by my reaction.

‘Yes. Of course I will.’

I had just become the happiest girl in the world!

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