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boltupbitches · 10 months

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Sliding in the DMs Part IX

18+ written content ahead

(I will go back and proofread for mistakes later. Don't mind them!)

The breeze danced over her shoulders as she lay on her stomach, sunbathing. The yacht was rocking gently on the water off the shore of Mykonos. The water lapped against the sides as the waves rolled gently. Overhead she could hear the faint calls of birds flying over towards the coastline. She sighed blissfully.

This vacation was greatly needed after Joey’s turbulent season. She had time off from work and decided to invite him to Greece to stay at her grandparents’ guest cottage. Joey, who had never been to Greece before, was stoked at the idea of it and asked questions non-stop about her family and her family’s home in Megara. The plan was to spend some time there and then travel to Mykonos and Athens for a few days before returning back to Megara to meet some of her cousins.

Joey was at the moment resting peacefully in the captain’s seat of the yacht, keeping a close eye for any other boats since Arty insisted on sunbathing topless for a bit.

She sighed loudly again and rolled over, making sure to have her tanning bed goggles on to protect her eyes.

Joey eyed up her tanned skin shining in the sunlight, her skin glistening from the sea breeze and sweat. He watched her chest rise and fall slowly with each breath. Her breasts had goosebumps as she shivered from a particular short breeze passing through. He could see her nipples pucker up in response.

He got out of his seat, making sure his hat was fastened over his head (the new haircut felt odd still, but he was adjusting) as he made his way over to Arty.

She perked up at the sound of him approaching and said, “Hey handsome. Come to lay with me?”

Joey smirked at that and eased down next to her with a grunt. He picked up the sun tan lotion and asked, “You need another layer?”

She nodded and sat up, taking off the goggles and reaching up to fix her bun. She watched Joey squirt the white lotion into his hands and giggled at the dirty thoughts suddenly popping up in her mind.

Joey stopped what he was doing and stared at her with an amused look. “What?”

“Nothing..” she drawed out. “It just looks an awful lot like the stuff you left on my face and chest last night..” Joey’s face goes beet red. “But I imagine it doesn’t taste as good..” She said with a smirk.

“I swear you are insatiable.” He said with frustration. “You are lucky I don’t want to get caught by the Greek coast guard for public indecency or I’d bend you over right fucking here and now, Artemis.”

Arty held her arm out to gesture around them, “no one is close enough to see what’s going on Joey.. and nobody knows you here unlike back home. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Arty… Are you seriously telling me that you can’t wait another two hours before we make it back to land? You seriously want to fuck now?” Joey asked incredulously.

“Yes.” She said calmly. “I think it’s already been well established that I have a high sex drive - as do you!”

Joey sighed loudly and told her, “As much as I want too, this is too risky, Artemis.”

Arty pouted at that and said, “Fine. I get it. No sex until back on land…” She rolled over and pointed over her shoulder at her back. “Can you please get my back?”

Joey leaned over her, massaging the sunscreen into her back and her shoulders, being certain to get the back of her neck as well. After getting the upper boy done, he made his way down to her bottoms, lotioning around her bikini bottoms and down her thighs, working his way to her ankles. Arty had such beautiful, soft skin. His hands glided so smooth down her body.

(One time he commented about it and she said, “Thanks. I drink lots of water, lotion, and I got laser hair removal in some places too cause I used to grow a lot of hair. It’s the Greek in me.”

Joey almost spat his water out he was sipping when she said that. )

Arty was silent while Joey was lost in his thoughts, his hand still stroking absentmindedly on her thigh.

“Hmm.. a little higher, baby.” Arty moaned out causing Joey to blink back into focus.

“What?”

“If you’re going to keep stroking my leg like that, move it up a little higher.” She said with an attitude.

Joey lifted his hand off her leg and got up, heading back over to the seat at the helm, calming his hormones. “You’re not getting me this time, Arty.”

“We’ll see.” She sing-songed back to him.

Joey put the boat into a light coast towards the shore and then stopped a few miles closer to shore.

Arty was still laying on her back, when he stopped the boat. She shimmied for a moment and Joey was about to ask her what she was doing until he saw her raise her pelvis up and yank her untied swim bottoms off her. She dropped the yellow bottoms next to her and rolled over, putting her tanning goggles back on and sighing loudly.

Joey gulped as his eyes dragged down the length of her, taking in her physique and the beautiful curves of her breasts and hips.. His eyes lingering at the glistening front of pussy. She had went and waxed before their trip, insisting that she didn’t want to have her “bush on display in a yellow bikini.” Joey didn’t even challenge her on that, although he honestly didn’t care what it looked like down there most of the time. It was her body, not his, and she never made remarks about his grooming down below.

He knew Arty could feel him staring, with the smirk stretching over her face right now, he fucking knew she knew. Still, he said nothing and instead adjusted his trunks against his growing erection.

Arty took off her tanning goggles again, got up and stretched, yawning loudly with exaggeration as she then went over and leaned on the railing of the yacht, looking out over the beautiful ocean and closing her eyes as the breeze danced across her cheeks.

Joey then cleared his throat and said warningly, “Arty..”

She opened one eye and turned her head to smile at him before closing them again. “Joey.”

“Get your ass over here before someone sees you!” He demanded, flustered at the sight of her nude in the open.

Arty ignores him and continues to take in the breeze.

“Artemis Thermopoli..” He said, beginning to rise from his seat.

“Joseph Bosa.” Arty turned back towards him fully this time and came over to him. She grabbed his hand, pulling him up with her and over to the seating lounge available to them. The roof of it covered them from the sun and gave a little more privacy.

As soon as the back of Joey’s knees made contact with the couch, she pushed into him to take a seat. He did so to avoid her tripping awkwardly over him.

As soon as he was seated, she swung one of her legs over his waist and straddled him. She wrapped her arms around him with a giggle and pressed a loud kiss to his bearded cheek. “I love you, baby.”

Joey turns to her and plants a kiss on her lips, “I love you too.” His hands dance down her sides and cup her ass, pushing her up against his growing erection. “You are so fucking bratty today.”

“And you love it.” She moans, pressing her face into the side of his neck as her hands reached down to undo his swim trunks. Her hand slipped into his trunks and gripped him at the base of his cock causing him to groan loudly. She lifted her hand out from his trunks, spit on it, and then went back in to stroke his cock with firm, jerking motions. Her hand danced up the side of it, her hand gently palming over the leaking head, and back down to the base. She kept that motion up for a while before Joey finally stopped her.

“Fuck, fuck, stop before I blow my fucking load in my trunks.” His hand gripped her rest firmly and pulled it up.

Arty kept eye contact with him as she licked her palm suggestively. “Hmmm…”

“Fuck..” He whispered as he quickly lifted himself up a bit to shimmy his trunks down his thighs. Arty lifted up too and leaned over to grab the huge beach towel laying on the opposite seat. She draped it over them just as Joey lined himself up at her entrance.

He tapped her hip to tell her to go ahead and lower herself. She did, easing down on him with a loud moan as she tossed her head back. “Fuck.. why are you so fucking big?”

Joey chuckled with a cocky look in his eyes. “Born that way, baby.” He felt her squeeze his cock and hissed loudly. “Why are you so tight?”

“Born that way.” She teased back as she leaned into him, her chest pressed against his chest as she reached up to pull his cap off, tossing them next to him along with his sunglasses. Her one hand wrapped around his neck as the other reached up to run through his hair.

She was panting as she picked up the pace. “F-fuck.. Joey.”

He grunted in return as his hand reached down and slapped her ass, ushering her to go faster. His other hand was gripping her hip tightly to help keep her pace going smoothly.

He could see her start to become undone after a while and then started to thrust upwards himself to help her get there, meeting her thrusts as both his hands were now holding her waist and bouncing her up and down on his cock.

He could see tears welling in her eyes as she was becoming overwhelmed with the sensation of her orgasm building. “You gonna cum?”

She nodded her head and made a sobbing noise in return, her voice trapped by the sensations taking over her.

“Where do you want it?” Joey asked, referring to his own release.

“I-inside me.” She said.

“Inside you?” He checked before holding her suddenly still and grinding up into her.

“Fuck! Fuck! Yes!” She nodded at the last part. “God Joey!”

His fingers reached down and then pressed into her clit, massaging it just how she liked it. He pinched it between to of his fingers and rolled his thumb as his cock pushed back into her deeply one last time.

Arty dropped her head into his neck, her body almost convulsing from the sensations as her orgasm ripped through her. Her vision was white and her hearing went mute for a second before all her sensations came rushing back.

The squeezing of his cock sent Joey into his own orgasm, him holding her firmly against him as his cock pumped his release into her.

They sat there panting loudly, neither talking and just focusing on catching their breaths.

Within moments of that, Joey could hear another boat approaching their’s and cried out, “Fuck!” He quickly grabbed the discarded towel and draped it over Arty’s form, as she laid against his in exhaustion from her orgasm.

The boat slowed for a moment and an older gentleman’s voice called out, “Είναι όλα καλά? (Is everything ok?)”

Joey nudged Arty when she didn’t respond. “Hmm?”

“The dude is speaking Greek or something! Can you answer him?” He asked anxiously, not wanting to get up and move her since they were both indecent. The man walked along his boat and came into view of the two from across the boats.

Arty lifted her head and turned towards the man with scrutinizing eyes. “Συγνώμη? (Pardon?)”

The man repeated his question with concerned eyes.

Arty made an “Ah” noise and said, “Ναί. Παίρνω έναν υπνάκο με το αγόρι μου. Είμαστε εντάξει. Ευχαριστώ κύριε. (Yes. I am taking a nap with my boyfriend. We are ok. Thank you, mister.)”

The old man chuckled and responded, “Θυμάμαι όταν με τη γυναίκα μου κάναμε «υπνάκους» στις βάρκες μας. Να προσέχετε, κυρία. (I remember when my wife and I also took "naps" on our boats. Take care, ma'am.)”

Arty laughed loudly at that and waved at him as he returned to his boat’s helm and started it, waving at the lovers as he passed by.

“What the fuck did he say?” Joey asked in confusion but also relieved they didn’t get caught by authorities or pirates or some shit.

“Just checking if we were ok.” Arty shrugged and then slipped off him with a wince. “Can we go back now? I need a shower.” She wrapped the towel around her as Joey got up, tucking himself back in his trunks and lifting his hat up to put back on.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea. I need a shower and maybe a nap. You look like you need one too.” He pointed out.

“Jeez… I wonder why.” She said sarcastically.

Joey picked up her discarded two piece and tossed it at her, laughing when it smacked her in the head. “Get dressed.”

“You are so lucky I’m sore as fuck and have jello legs or I’d be over there whooping you.” She threatened as he started the boat.

“Whatever. I love you.” Was all he said in return as he drove the boat back towards shore. Arty was behind him grumbling as she worked on the ties of her suit. She was either really loving post-sex or extra catty. Either way, Joey loved it and couldn’t ask for anything more - well, except for her to be his wife…

—---------------------------------------

Later that evening they were finishing a meal at her grandparents’ house, her cousins visiting to meet her boyfriend and see her.

Arty groaned with happiness at the taste of her grandma’s moussaka and freshly made pitas. Joey next to her was trying to eat politely, but she knew he wanted to tear that shit up too like she was. He was more reserved and nervous about eating in front of her family. This was only their second night in Greece and they barely had much time their first night to do more than brief introductions.

Arty’s grandma was very loving to Joey. She reminded him a bit of his own grandma Kumerow as she hugged him and patted his cheek with affection. She spoke in a thick accent and her broken English was endearing as she spoke with him. She called him “Iosíf”, which caught him off guard.

Arty told him, “It means Joseph in Greek. She’s a stubborn one, so the name is likely going to stick, babe.”

Joey didn’t object to it.

“Iosíf…” Mrs. Papadimitriou started, “the food..” she gestures to his plate and he looks down at it before looking back up at her in confusion. She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. “The food.. Is good, no?”

“Umm. Yes. It is very good ma’am.” He said nervously.

“Good.” She smiled proudly. “I spend a lot of time today to cook. I love to cook and I love my family.” She reached over and placed her hand lovingly on her husband’s forearm.

Joey smiled at that. “Thank you, Mrs.. Papadimitriou?” He finished uncertainty, cringing at the thought of butchering her last name.

Mr. Papadimitriou smiled at that and said to Arty in Greek. “Έχει καλή προφορά για έναν μη Έλληνα. Είναι επίσης δυνατός με καλούς τρόπους. Είμαι έκπληκτος που βρήκες κάποιον που μπορεί να ανεχτεί την τρέλα σου, άντε. (He has good pronunciation for a non-Greek. He's strong looking too with good manners. I am surprised you found someone who can put up with your craziness, bear.)”

“Bah!” Arty said back to her grandfather with mock-outrage. “Πολύ αστείο παππού. Τι σε κάνει να πιστεύεις ότι δεν είναι ο τρελός; (Very funny, grandpa. What makes you think he's not the crazy one?)”

Her grandfather grinned back at her. “Γιατί σε ξέρω. (Because I know you.)”

Joey looked confused between the two, hoping it wasn’t anything bad when her cousin Stefanos leaned in to say, “Don’t worry. He is teasing her about finally settling down.” His accent was not as thick as his grandparents’ or some of his other cousins. Arty had told Joey that Stefanos had spent 5 years living with him and studying in America as a teenager. Now, a young man in his early 20s, he was fluent in English, Greek, and Turkish, and worked for the Greek embassy in DC as a translation assistant.

Joey nodded at the younger man. Stefanos, since meeting him a few hours ago, was very friendly. He was glad to have someone else with him who spoke fluent English as he was nervous about Arty walking off somewhere and leaving him to flail with the language barrier.

Stefanos had asked him about his college playing experience and his time so far in the NFL. He found that Arty’s cousin was also an avid boatmen and enjoyed the outdoors as well. He was shocked to find out that Stefanos also graduated with a 4.00 from Georgetown and even did an internship with the UN as a language translator during a summer in Cyprus.

The more Joey got to know Arty’s family, the more he could piece together bits of her. He could see the love she showed others in her grandma’s actions. He could see her grandfather’s humor as he teased her and others at the table. He could see the desire to learn more in the eyes of Stefanos, the kid brother Arty always wanted and doted over.

In Greece, Arty was even more relaxed, her face glowing in the dimmed lights of her grandparents’ dining room as she joked with family, her hand resting comfortably on his thigh, every so often squeezing it reassuringly as her eyes would seek his house, the unspoken question, “Are you ok?” Always there.

Artemis Renee Thermopoli was the love of his life. He knew that for certain as he watched her help her grandma and aunt take dishes to the kitchen and return with trays of briki sets on it (coffee set). As she was explaining to him the difference between Greek coffee and the preparation in America, Joey’s eyes didn’t leave her face once.

Mr. Papadimitriou nudged his wife who was also watching the unaware pair. As Arty served Joey and was asking if he’d like any milk in his, Mr. Papadimitriou said, “Αυτό είναι το βλέμμα ενός ερωτευμένου άντρα. (That is the look of a man in love.)”

“Ναί (Yes).” His wife agreed happily, sipping her own coffee.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Joey was sitting restlessly on the bench overlooking the beach on the Papadimitriou compound. He had retrieved the box from his suitcase while Arty was helping her grandma, cousin, and aunt clean up.

He insisted on helping her, but she shooed him out, saying “my grandma will kill me if I have a non-family guest clean up. That’s not how we do things in the Papadimitriou clan.”

As he was waiting for Arty to join him, he thought over what he wanted to say. This was supposed to happen in three days while they were sight-seeing at the Parthenon. That was the plan.

Yet, Joey didn’t think he could wait that long. Not with how happy he was currently. He ran his hand over his head, sighing loudly in frustration before staring out at the ocean.

He heard steps coming down the path and turned to see Arty approaching him. She was still wearing the white cotton sundress she put on earlier.

Joey smiled at her as she took a seat next to him. “Sorry. Once we get to talking in there, it never ends!” She sighed and leaned against him. “Did you like the food?”

Joey hmmed. “Absolutely. I’ve never eaten that much food and not felt bloated afterwards. Mediterranean cuisine is something else.”

“It is.” Said Arty, “my grandma was also a restaurant chef for years, so you’re getting extra high quality food. She’s an amazing person.”

Joey agreed. “Your family… Arty.. they’re amazing. I see so much of you in them.”

Arty smiled softly at him. “You do? Like what?”

“Well.. I can see the love you show through care of others in your grandma. I can see your humor from your grandpa. And I can see the brashness and confidence in you that your aunt showed today.”

Her aunt had hit on him immediately. He was surprised and Arty laughed it off, shooing her aunt off to her waiting husband.

“And I think.. I think that’s the kind of family I want to build.” He started to say, lowering himself down to kneel in front of Arty. “With you.”

She stared at him in shock. “Joey.. are you-?”

“Artemis Renee Thermopoli..” He interrupted with a smile as he pulled a box from his pocket of his shorts. “Would you do me the honors of putting up with me for the rest of your life, and be my wife?” His hands shook as he opened the box.

Inside was the biggest engagement ring - or any ring in fact - that Arty had ever seen. The ring was at least a 10 carat sapphire diamond with white diamonds surrounding it in a halo.

Arty sat there in shock.. “Oh my god.. Joey.. I -what - wait!” She shook her head and said, “Yes, fuck - yes!” And launched into him, her lips clumsily meeting his as he almost fell backwards. He held her tightly to him as they made out passionately.

Finally, he pulled back and lifted her hand up with the hand not holding the box. He reached for the ring and slipped it on her finger (silently thanking himself that he snuck one of her regularly worn rings to get the size at a jeweler for this thing.

“Joey..” She said weepingly. “I fucking love you so much. Oh my god.” She cried into his shoulder as he held her tight with a smile on his face. “You’re making me cry too - but these are fucking happy tears.” She lifted the ring and stared at it again. The setting sun was reflecting off the diamonds and at that moment, she had never seen such a beautiful ring.

They didn’t realize that behind them stood her grandparents, holding hands as they watched with tears at their eldest granddaughter being engaged. When Joey asked Stefanos for help in asking her grandfather for his blessing, he was eager to do so. Mr. Papadimitriou had said jokingly to Joey, “My boy… she is crazy and so must you be. Welcome to our family.” The man offered him a hug and then offered him some wine in celebration.

“Η Πένυ θα τρελαθεί όταν θα μάθει ότι έδωσες στην κόρη της άδεια να παντρευτεί.(Penny is going to go crazy when she finds out you gave her daughter permission to marry.)” Mrs. Papadimitriou sighed to her husband.

He made scoffing sound in return and said, “ίσως θα έπρεπε να επισκέπτεται τους γονείς της μια στο τόσο. Μετά μπορεί να μου κάνει διάλεξη. (Maybe she should visit her parents once in a while. Then she can lecture me.)”

Mrs. Papadimitriou rolled her eyes. “είσαι πεισματάρα σαν την εγγονή σου. (You are stubborn like your granddaughter.)”

#joey bosa fanfiction #joey bosa imagines #joey bosa imagine #sliding in the dms

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symeona · 1 year

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hi, i love the classics talk :D even tho i know nothing about it tbh.. but i saw the ask about hera and ares and i just can't not ask about apollo, i don't know much about him but always liked him the best. Also have you read books by stephen fry?

Okokok lemme take a slow breath in cause I love that you like Apollo okok

So, Apollo was born on Delos.

Delos is one of the three islands that belong to the municipality of Mykonos, currently. I was born and raised on Mykonos. I grew up inside a museum filled with the history of Apollo and Artemis so BE STILL MY HEART

I will now branch off and talk about Paean, not Apollo.

Pronounced like pe from Pepsi and Anne the name, pe-Anne.

There are slight differences but, basically Apollo is the name of the God for the northern parts of Greece. For the south, the islands and Crete, his name is Paean. And he's closely tied with medicine and prophecy (put down your red balls)

What's interesting is that Paean was definitely worshipped in the Mycenean times. In fact, legend has it that the priests that worshipped Paean on Crete were carried by him (he transformed into a big dolphin) to Delphi and that's when the oracle religion was formed.

Paean was not only associated with medicine but with disease as well, and his arrows were said to cause plagues. In the Odyssey, Homer describes Egypt as this very culturally advanced place. Where people are educated and every second person there works miracles with medicine. And then calls them "Paean's people". (So the next time I see a blond Apollo I WILL commit murder)

I think looking into Paean will be very interesting to you, I don't have specific sources because I grew up around these stories. I know them by heart, but everything I have is in Greek. It's easy to find things on him though, now that you know Paean is Apollo.

Another interesting thing about him is that Leto, his mom, was worshipped in Asia Minor. She is a deity with Lydian ties, and is associated with prophecy, omens and protection songs. In fact, that's where the origin of him being the god of music comes from.

People would sing these songs to either purify themselves or thank him for protecting them from evil or disease. (Later the Romans fucked that up and started singing those same songs when they won battles But that's The freaking Romans™ for you)

There's also ties to Shiva and Rudra, buuut I have to look that one up again, cause I don't remember what I've read. I only know I wasn't surprised since much if the story of prehistoric Greece is just "many people migrated from West and Central Asia and then stayed there, got high and had a time"

And with that I'll skip taking about ancient Greece for another half year hxjdndh I got it out of my system thank you

#apollo #ask

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griefbringers · 1 year

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some fun hcs I keep forgetting to write down here instead of just rambling to people in DMs:

When the Gravedigger switches in, it's like the skin of whoever was there before turns to soil and crumbles off, and the Gravedigger emerges from underneath. At the same time, his skull will emerge and essentially swallow the head of the previous dream whole: a great maw that splits out from the neck and closes like a venus fly trap before settling properly into place. Finally, his eyes will light from deep in the skull's eye sockets: a bright, blank violet.

If Proximity City is a place, Johnny-Come-Lately is a sound. If you rest your head on his chest and listen, you'll hear music coming from the golden fractures in his chest. You'll never be able to describe what you hear, nor replicate it.

When Johnny switches in, it's like a burst of sound with weird, cartoony visual effects that prevent the viewer from actually seeing the body transform: he's nowhere, and then he's just there, with a little musical cue. Ta-dah!

When Mykonos switches in, the previous dream... bursts into wings, basically. Imagine unsettling a huge flock of pigeons and being surrounded by them as they take flight, nothing but wings beating everywhere. They sprout from all over the body's skin to cover it.

Mykonos' body fluids are iridescent and colourful. She can bleed and cry, but that shit is in shrimp colours.

There are a lot of fragments of Graves within the collective (they can't form the same way the other Griefbringers do, but may influence them passively), and they largely reside somewhere within Mykonos. It's likely that she's protecting Graves from some of the worst parts of their collective experiences.

#hc.#hc: griefbringers #hc: graves #hc: johnny #hc: mykonos

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villasmykonosrent · 8 months

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Best villas in Mykonos

Looking for a luxury villa to inspire you of a safe environment where kids can play undisturbed? We have just the perfect family villas in Mykonos. Each villa guarantees safety, high standards, ample space for the kids to play and proximity to either Mykonos town or the beach. The list we came up with is endless, but you can have ourbest 5 below.

Paradise Gems Retreat, Paraga The luxury retreat consists of 2 almost identical villas with extremely comfortable features for a family stay. Beach proximity is its wow factor as it is only 260 m from Paraga beach. It offers a children’s pool, so that kids can have as much fun as the adults. It Is a gated property, which you will find at the south part of the island, which happens to be the most enviable as well, due to its wind protected location. Enjoy!

Androniki, Mykonos Town Androniki is the luxury villa in Mykonos that will make family holidays perfect. Androniki is one of the safest choices for an escape with kids. Located downtown you can avoid long rides with the car in order to explore the beauty of Little Venice. The same happens with Megali Ammos beach which is only 2 km from the villa.

Amethyst, Agios Ioannis You need the ultimate family city break with a view to the Aegean Sea? Head to Agios Ioannis and indulge into the sophisticated simplicity of luxury Mykonos villa, Amethyst. It is one of the few villas that are very close both to the sea but the town as well, which makes it ideal for family holidays. Mykonos town is only 2.8 km away and Agios Ioannis beach only 300 m. Forget long rides in the car. Everything is at a stone’s throw distance.

Alchemia, Agios Lazaros Family with young children? And kind of naughty? Easy peasy. Your luxury escape in Mykonos will make family holidays a dream come true as it offers every comfort to accommodate every family. The villa is located in the most premium are of the island, Agios Lazaros, which makes it great for the adults to indulge into luxury but is also kid friendly. It is close to Mykonos town – and by the way – Ornos pharmacy. When you are in the villa you can let the kids have fun at the playroom before sleep, as you enjoy the best view.

Themis, Mykonos Town Welcome to the ultimate luxury family paradise in Mykonos. The villa is perfect for a large group of guests with kids. When they stay indoors they can pass time at the home cinema and when you are about to explore the island, you should never worry about long car rides. The town is right at your feet and the beach only 2 km away.

Best Villas in Mykonos – Book Luxury Mykonos Villas Millionaires Villa (8 bdrms) Millionaires luxury villa has been created to the highest specifications

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bentonmunkholm · 2 years

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Taking A Boating Vacation - Great Way To Relieve Stress

Do anyone might have an coverage on your home? You probably do, and also are gonna be want to insure materials you have stored for a lot of of an identical reasons. While storage facilities are generally well monitored and secure thefts occurs from in order to time, properly course no structure is very immune to acts of nature. Having insurance means you can replace anything that gets damaged or pilfered. Give the corporate who carries your policy a call to verify that they can extend your coverage to goods in storage. Lake boat rentals given a way for summer people explore the stream and all of the rental boats wonderful things it in order to offer. A boat rental can be secured through many on the resorts the actual area. Boat rentals furthermore available through independent rental shops. This is the most rich district and many expats love living perfect. Examples of new condos here are Cyan located at Keng Chin Freeway. Although it isn't close to the sea, many good schools both local and international schools located within quarter-hour of properties found the following.

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mykonosconcierge · 5 years

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#mykonos bodyguards #mykonos close protection #bodyguards mykonos #protection services mykonos #personal bodyguard mykonos #mykonos security services #vip services mykonos #mykonos bodyguard

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mountswhore · 2 years

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The yacht picture had me thinking about this request (also bc I’m a sucker for friends to lovers): y/n being good friends with Mason and Declan and joining them and some other mates during their holidays. One of their friends gets a little too close for Masons comfort and he gets into protection mode, scaring the other guy off. Instead of letting her go, he pulls her into his lap (imagine him placing his hand on the bare skin of your hip), has his hands constantly on her (all that stuff) and I’d like them to finally end up together. Thanks xx (I really hope you haven’t written this before, I’ve been through you whole masterlist but because there’s soooo much, I’m not 100% sure this is this totally new. So apologies in case this doubles with something♥️)

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 — mason mount

summary: mason invites you on a holiday to mykonos with some friends, and it goes a completely different direction than you thought.

notes: requests are OPEN.

"It's the law now. You have to join the friend's holidays, so get packing." Mason confirmed, reaching above your wardrobe and grabbing the black suitcase that sat comfortably on top. You rolled your eyes, settling further into your bed and trying to get back to sleep, which is exactly what you'd planned to do all day until Mason had arrived.

"I thought it was a lad's holiday," you commented, unable to sleep now this man was laying over the foot of your bed.

"Not anymore, you're invited. The boys want you to come as much as I do." It wasn't true. Sure, the boys were all okay with you going, but Mason was a bit too excited for you to join them. For a while now, Mason has fancied the pants off of you. His friends could all see it, but you were clueless. He'd never made a move, in fear of you not feeling the same way, and he decided to keep his feelings to himself.

"Sure."

"Are you really passing up the opportunity to go to Mykonos?" Mason questioned, sitting up to give you a bewildered look. And you smiled into your pillow, knowing just how bad you wanted to go. You hadn't been on holiday for well over a year, the last holiday being a trip to Amsterdam with your mum and sisters.

"Fine." You answered, standing up from your bed and stretching, preparing yourself to pack a fortnight's worth of clothes into a suitcase and a bag. Mason sighed in what seemed like relief, as you started sorting your bikinis out.

"I'm glad you said yes, otherwise the ticket was going to waste." Mason casually mentioned, and you felt like throwing up. It was notoriously known that you hated other people spending money on you. You always bought yourself tickets when going on holiday, paying for anything necessary, and now Mason had taken that job from you.

You stood up, turning to your handsome best friend in shock, and folding your arms. "Now, why would you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You know what you did."

"Do I?"

You huffed, lightly slapping his arm. "Why did you buy my ticket?"

"Because I needed you to say yes. I wasn't going to let the excuses stop you from joining me- us." Mason reasoned, holding your shoulders and spinning you in the direction of your suitcase, "now hurry up and pack. We leave tomorrow at 12."

You had joined everyone at the airport. Ben, Declan, his girlfriend Lauren, Jack, his girlfriend Sasha, and a few other mutual friends. And, of course, Mason. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to see you, and you felt the same, you were good friends with Sasha and Lauren, especially.

Mason had given you your ticket, and you stared down at it, analyzing the row and seat number. You winced, hoping you weren't sat next to a stranger. You looked up at Mason to thank him for the millionth time that day, not only for buying your ticket, but picking you up, buying you breakfast, and even remembering to buy you travel sickness gummies.

He could see the nerves in your expression, and gave you a comforting smile. "Don't worry. You're sat next to me, I hope that's okay."

"More than okay."

It had just gone 7pm when you got to the villa you'd be living in for the next two weeks. It was gorgeous, thanks to the salaries of your footballer friends. Balconies for every bedroom, a large open living area and kitchen, as well as a pool outside. The villa was adorned with plants and shrubbery, to your liking.

The plan for the rest of the evening was to go to dinner, and you were excited. You hadn't eaten since the morning, even though it was technically 5pm back in the UK. You'd gotten out of your comfortable airport attire and swapped it for an outfit suitable for dinner in a hot country.

Mason was the first one ready, and the Lord knew Jack, Declan and Ben liked to take their time. You were the second one downstairs, and Mason was stunned out of his breathing pattern as he set his eyes on you. His phone was no longer a concern, subconsciously locking it and setting it down, whilst looking at you checking your hair again.

"You look lovely," Mason commented, and you blushed to yourself in the mirror.

"As do you, Mount. I'm so happy we're in a warm country. I was getting sick of turning my heating on full blast." The two of you giggled, and Mason had approached you to move a falling strand of hair from your face. The moment was so intimate, and disrupted by the clacking of Sasha's heels. And it was quickly forgotten as Sasha had taken your attention away from Mason, but he watched you with a smirk on his face, taking pictures with your best friend.

It was day three, and being on holiday with you was harder than expected. You'd spent most of your first and second day lounging by the pool, occasionally speaking to him as you passed him around the villa, and spending an awfully strange amount of time with Ben. It was hard having to watch Ben lay beside you by the pool, seeing you hunch over with laughter, and turn away from him bashfully. It put him off breakfast and lunch, and he wasn't going to let it ruin him any longer. So Mason had spent the day in town.

He had his google translate at the ready, searching different stores for something nice, and finally set off home to find you. You were still outside, this time in the pool with Jack, Sasha, and Ben. Mason hesitated before walking outside, grabbing your attention before anyone else's.

He gestured for you to follow him, and he appeared tortured as he watched you get out of the pool. It felt like you were moving in slow motion, like a baywatch model. He quickly turned away from you, letting you follow him inside. And here you were in front of him, a towel wrapped around your frame, your eyes glancing at the small paper bag in his hand.

"What's that?"

"A gift," he confessed, holding it out for you, "I thought you'd like it. Consider it a thank you for coming on holiday." You smiled, glancing up at your handsome best friend and bowing your head to look inside the bag. It was an assortment of souvenirs.

"I know how much you love to collect souvenirs. Your Heineken bottle collection is the first thing anyone sees when they enter your home," Mason laughed, and sat beside you as you admired each gift. He'd gotten you a homemade bracelet, a thin string covered in precious stones. He'd gotten you miniature figurines of the iconic Mykonos buildings. And a small bar of chocolate.

"The lady selling those said they were too good to leave without," Mason pointed out, and you giggled, shuffling forward to bring him into a hug. He didn't care that you were still damp from the pool, he was too wrapped up in the intimacy of your arms around him. He was reading into this hug a bit too much.

You pulled away, slipping the bracelet onto your wrist and smiled up at him hopefully. "Jack was mentioning a yacht day tomorrow, how does that sound?"

"Sounds great."

It wasn't so great. Mason was trapped on a yacht with two couples, his long-time crush, and his horny, painfully single friend trying to pursue his crush. Mason had grown tired of hearing you giggle at Ben's jokes, and decided to sit around the other side of the boat and treat himself to a few beers, enjoying the seat, the sun, and the landscape view.

You had gotten over your fun with Ben the moment he was becoming a bit too touchy. It wasn't entirely inappropriate, it was just the lingering hands on your skin that felt strange. Ben was a friend, a good one at that, you'd never seen him in any other way apart from that. You were praying to all of your lucky stars that Mason would reappear from wherever he had gone, as not only did you need saving, but you'd barely spent time with him today.

Mason had finished the two beers, decided to grab another two. The alcohol was the only thing keeping him company on this yacht, and he wished it were you instead. To be enjoying the view with you, to feel as close to you as he did yesterday. He could only dream.

He tried to avoid looking at you and Ben, but became concerned as you were no longer laughing. He couldn't help but glance up at you and see you were already staring at him. Ben had his arm around your waist, and you looked uncomfortable. You looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you up whole.

Mason forgot about his beers, and instead made a beeline for you. He grabbed your hand and led you off with no explanation, distracting Ben from his conversation with Declan.

"What was that for?" Ben asked, a light tone to his voice, and a chuckle had followed. Mason shrugged.

"I needed her help, bye now." Mason left with you, and you didn't look back. Instead, you giggled and gripped his hand just a little bit tighter as you followed him below the deck to find some more drinks. "I didn't actually need your help."

"I know, but thank you for saving me. I was one hand movement away from pushing him overboard." You admitted, grabbing yourself one of the miniature bottles of white wine. You had followed Mason back onto the deck and to the other side of the boat.

"So this is where you've been hiding?" You asked, making yourself comfortable beside him on the sofa and tipping the bottle of wine into a glass. Mason grinned, getting comfortable and lifting his feet to rest on the table opposite him.

There were a few minutes of comfortable silence — you taking in the nice view, and Mason taking in your presence next to him. He couldn't believe his best friend, and long-time crush was sat next to him, in barely anything, and enjoying the lovely views of Mykonos. It was too good to be true, and it was growing harder to keep his affections from you. He'd made a plan to take you back here alone next time, to enjoy a vacation romantically, instead of platonically.

"I'm glad I'm here," you admitted, looking over to Mason, who was already looking at you, "I'm glad you convinced me. I rarely see you, and when I do, you're so focused on your career. And I love that about you. But I also love seeing you so relaxed, I love seeing Mason Mount, but I love seeing my Mason more."

My Mason? Did you want him to get on one knee right now? Because he would in a heartbeat. Mason grabbed your hand, your words had given him the confidence boost he needed to finally show you how he feels. He had kissed you; firmly, confidently, passionately.

It caught you by surprise. But it felt so natural. Like you'd been doing this with him for years. Your handsome best friend, kissing you, just like you'd been dreaming of for months now. It was real, Mason was actually kissing you, holding your waist, wanting more. You had pulled away, fighting every instinct to lose everything in Mason.

"Wow." You let out, earning a laugh from Mason.

"Sorry, I've wanted to do that for so long. You have no idea." Mason replied, his breathing heavy and his hands resting on your thighs. You smiled at him, lips swollen and head muddled with thoughts. You did not wake up that morning thinking you were going to kiss your best friend.

"Believe me, I do have an idea." You remarked, Mason's hands tightening around your thigh gently. You had only wished nobody else was on this boat.

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount #money mase #mase #mason mount blurb #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount one shot #mason mount request #mason mount scenario #mm19

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alltoolewis · 3 years

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Maybe a Ben one where your on holiday with some of the England lads and ur all out together and u get tipsy and fall asleep on him through dinner and it’s all cute and fluffy please

"c'mere you.." Ben giggled as you wobbled over to him, instantly falling in his arms as all the alcohol intake started to kick in. "I told you not to drink so much!" Before you left the villa he sat you down like a parent warning their child, making you promise him you won't get too drunk, drunk (y/n) was a nightmare to handle and he didn't want his teammates seeing such a vulnerable side to you.

"I'm not drunk Ben..." You whispered in his neck, eyes closing as you started to drift away, forgetting the prying eyes of the brits "Just tipsy...." Ben chuckled lowly, as you nustled deeper his neck "Okay bubs... whatever you say"

For the rest of the evening, you stayed on his lap with Ben stroking your hair as he did his best to keep his teammates quiet... "Can you two shut up, please!" He hissed as Declan & Mason spoke over the 'volume level' he had set, causing you to stir. "Is she still asleep!" Mason laughed as he tries to poke you, causing your protective boyfriend to slap his hand away. "Yes! but she won't be if you clowns keep making a racket!"

"Alright precious we will keep it down!" Declan said while raising his hands up, causing Ben to glare at the west ham boy "But your so whipped bro..."

"I know" Ben sighed, as looked down at your sleeping body, he damn well that he was a gonna from the moment he met you... I mean he wouldn't just cuddle any girl in front of all his mates in the middle of Mykonos, but for you, he would do everything, all the teasing and mocking, the PDA, he would do it all for you!!

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell blurb #ben chilwell imagine

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daydreamingatnight209 · 3 years

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Please check my Main Masterlist for updates on requests! 🥰

Let me know if you want me to create/ add you to my Mason Mount Taglist!

Feedback is always welcome: HATE IS NOT ✨💕

“My Number 19”

Mason Mount x Reader

Warnings - High emotions? Fluff 💞

Prompts- Comforting Mason after the Euros and the song “Marry your Daughter”

1.5k words.

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A holiday in the sun was exactly what the team needed after their devastating loss in the Euro’s final against Italy. I knew that it hit everyone hard, especially Mason. I remember watching him console his friends on the pitch with tears in my own eyes, as I stood beside his parents, but it wasn’t a time for me to cry. He needed me.

I simply opened my arms to him when he found me in the stands. He wasted no time embracing me, his weight throwing me backwards slightly. I catch myself and wrap my arms around him tightly, tracing small patterns down his back to try and relax him. The tears I caught him holding in on the pitch were now flying freely down his face, as he buries himself into the crook of my neck.

A hand of mine shoots up to his hair as I play with, knowing that it is these small intimate touches that calms him in heated moments like this one.

“You still made history babe; I am so very proud of you” I whisper into his ear as he breathing slow goes back to normal.

He looks up at me and my heart broke from him. I gently wipe away any tears still trapped on his face as he works his way to his parents who go through similar motions to me.

A few days later, we found ourselves in Mykonos. Over the last couple of days Mason has managed to put the loss behind him and thanked the fans for their support as well as addressing that there is no place for racism after virtual attacks appeared online towards some of his teammates. By the time we land his famous smile was back on his face.

A few others join us on the spontaneous get away including Dec who is dating my best friend , Chilly, Jack and Shaw with their partners.

I finish putting my hair up so that it doesn’t receive extensive damage from the pool when Mase enters the room.

“Dec and some of the lads have hired a yacht for the day, do you wanna join?

He hugs me from behind, humming to himself as I push down any fly away hair strands. I look at him through the mirror with a twinkle in my eye.

“Of course! Do you really need to ask Mase?”

I grab my beach bag and head out the room with my boyfriend.

The day was spent swimming in the sea, sunbathing and the boys playing basketball – all their practice at SGP paying off.

I ensure that Mason is covered in sunscreen after seeing Dec’s burnt arms and my best friend battle with him to put it on. Mase just lays on the deck as I massage the cream into his back, groaning slowly when I undo any knots in his muscles. This lasts all of five minutes before he is on his feet again answering Dec’s calls to hoop.

I sit to the side with the girls and watch as they pair up to score. The ball swings and hits nothing but net. A clean shot. I cheer out to him and watch as he happily jumps about and gives Dec a quick high five. He looks over to me and for a moment it is like time had stopped.

I take in his lean but muscular posture, his sun kissed skin, while taking in how his jersey fits over his shoulders before looking up to his face again.

Butterflies float around in my stomach as I stare into his deep brown eyes. They were like the window to his soul, showing just how kind and gentle he could be, while protecting those he loves fiercely and from his eyes came a sense of home, of belonging.

The honeymoon period of our relationship never ended and nor would it ever. His love consumed me, forever burning through me. It takes me a moment to realise what the man I am looking at is doing as he drops to one knee.

Time starting moving again but I feel like I am living in slow motion. I was aware of the sudden gasps and quickly following silence that happened around me, but I couldn’t focus on anyone but him. My faces scrunches up as a poor attempt to stop my tears as it finally clicks in me. He was proposing to me.

I thanked my luck that he waited till I was seated a one hand grips tightly onto the side of the sunbed while the other fly’s to my mouth to stop the loud gasps and cries from spilling out.

I watch as he delivers this beautiful speech, making me cry harder before asking the all important question. It takes me a minute to regain my voice from the shock.

“Oh Mason, look at state of me now. You know I’m an ugly crier!” I protest as he laughs nervously.

“I think you are beautiful” he whispers, using one hand to wipe my tears away and the other to keep a hold of the ring box.

He does his best to clear my face, but I know that he couldn’t do much; turns out my mascara wasn’t as waterproof as it said. That makes me giggle slightly as I open my mouth again. My voice was hoarse but at this point I didn’t care.

“Of course, I will marry you!”

At that, he wastes no time slipping the most gorgeous ring onto my finger, before picking me up and twirling me around as those around us erupt into cheers after that tense silence. Champagne is sprayed all around the deck as music begins to play.

Mason puts me back on my feet, but keeps a tight hold on my waist, unsure if I have recovered from the shock yet.

I lean my forehead against his and soak in memory.

“My Number 19” I whisper just before his lips capture my own, as if to seal the deal.

————————————————————————

Mason’s POV-

I have never felt so much relief as I did when Y/N agreed to my proposal. When she started crying, I panicked like never before, but I couldn’t do anything but wait. Then came the answer I have been waiting for the last 6 months. I wanted to sag in relief, but I had to keep my composure.

I remember that one moment 6 months ago, I had the ring, but I needed one more thing.

My legs felt as if they couldn’t hold me up as I stood before my girlfriends childhood home. I placed a firm knock on the door and wait until her father answers my call. I give him my best smile (while internally cringing at my actions) and settle instead on a firm handshake.

I force myself to calm down before stepping into the household. I can do this, it’s not like I am the only guy who has asked their girlfriend’s father for his permission to marry his daughter. Its old fashioned sure but not that rare.

I take a seat opposite him and get straight to the point.

“I want to marry your daughter” I blurt out, before adding a quick “sir” on the end.

His eyebrows shoot so far up his face I was actually scared that they would disappear. Not the reaction I would have wanted but there is still hope. I have to hope.

I listen to him intently as he raises his concerns, including our young ages and my career but I didn’t let them dishearten me. I knew that Y/N was the girl I was going to marry when I first met her three years ago. Even at 19 my heart knew that she was the one. I wasn’t going to give up.

“Sir, I hope you don’t mind forwardness but in this box is ring for your oldest, she is my everything and I would really like your blessing. I know that you have your concerns, but you honestly do not have to worry, I will treat her with the upmost respect.” I take a breath before deciding to take the final plunge.

“I’m gonna marry your daughter and make her my wife; I want her to be the only girl that I love for the rest of my life.”

I feel like an eternity passes before her old man looks at me again. I watch as his face breaks into a smile and I have to close my eyes to hide the tears that threaten to spill. He approved.

He stands up and gives me another firm shake of the hand.

“You’ve got backbone kid. I respect that. Go look after my little girl”

I didn’t plan on proposing on the yacht, I had a whole beach proposal planned for that evening instead but when I caught her staring over at me, I was mesmerized. Her smile was so bright, and her eyes shone with constant admiration and love. Stuck in that single moment I knew I had to do it.

I wanted to share this memory with her and the friends we call family; it didn’t matter if it was now or in a fancy setting. I just wanted her to say yes… and she did.

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stephspurs · 3 years

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

hey girlypops! here is part 5!!! thanks for the feedback on the last part - i've gone back through and edited slight bits to make it more straightforward who her brother is and who it isn't. Nothing has been changed to the story line so no need to go back and re-read (unless you want to lol love yas). Part 5 is a whole lot of fun! As the warning suggests, you can expect a few too many drinks, some heavy flirty & a very smug italian.

Love always, Steph xx

Part 5. | parte quinta

warnings; a few too many drinks, heavy flirting and a smug italian.

word count; 1704

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Wed 04/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Day rolls into night, which rolls into the next day and before she knew it Amelia had been under the Mykonos sun for 5 days. Her brother and his teammates, who she should now probably refer to as her friends as well, did nothing but welcome her into their group with open arms and tried to include her in every activity they were doing. Most times she declined their invitation, opting to just relax on her own. She was very comfortable with her own company, she never felt like she needed another person to be able to exist. It was something she was proud of.

No doubt there were times she often missed companionship. She had her fair share of flings that gave her what kind of satisfaction she needed at the time, but she never felt like she needed someone else’s air to be able to breathe. This Mykonos trip, however, reminded her of how much she was beginning to miss her players. They had a group chat, La Cosa Nostra, which was probably a pretty poor group chat name but she was inducted into the already established group when she became close with some of the players & besides it was just Our Thing.

She missed the gentle bullying that she received on the daily from the serie a superstars, and also missed dishing it out to them so that they could keep their feet on the ground and their heads out of the clouds. Laying on her bed in a towel, after a nice shower, she contemplated taking up her brother’s offer from earlier in the evening. Does she go out and meet him and their mates at the club? Why not?

Getting up off her bed, she put on some makeup for the first time in a few days, making her feel somewhat human again, blow dried her freshly washed hair and put on her favourite Camilla bikini, covered up by a white slightly-sheer and flowy mini dress. Putting on her white sneakers and grabbing her cross body bag, comfort was the theme of tonight, and also because she wasn't in the mood to break her ankle on the grecian cobblestones.

Walking to the club that her brother had messaged her the name of, she noticed a ridiculously long line to get in which was honestly long enough for her to consider just going home, but she had committed to the plans & her brother was already expecting her - plus she had already put on her mascara and she was not wasting it. Approaching the line she went to join the back when her arm caught that of someone else walking past her.

_____________________________________________________________

“Sembra che tu non riesca a starmi lontano, vero?” (you can't seem to stay away from me, can you?) Looking up, I had linked arms with my midfield maestro, Jorginho. Who was smiling down at me with the cheeky grin that told me he saw me coming and couldn't help himself.

“Ciao! Come sei stato? Che sorpresa incontrati qui!” (Hi! How have you been? What a surprise running into you here!) I begin to say to him as I kiss both his cheeks in greeting.

“I’ve been good, enjoying time off as a double champion” He joked with me. He was right, he was a double champion and no one could take that away from him.

“Bella Amelia, this is Thiago. I play with him at Chelsea, which I'm sure you already knew. Thiago, this is the brains behind the organisation, Amelia” Jorginho introduced me to his Chelsea counterpart, which he was correct about - i did already know exactly who he was.

“Are you guys coming into Tropicana? I’m meeting up with my brother and his mates - some of them play with you guys at Chelsea. You should join us!” It took very little convincing for the two footballers, who looked like they were a couple hours into their long night, to join me in the club.

Unsurprisingly, we got let into Tropicana quite quickly. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the two mega famous and ridiculously good looking footballers I had looped around each of my arms. Walking through the club, the smell of cigarette smoke and vodka wafting around me, I managed to find the british players.

“Now now boys, no bad blood here! I know you all managed to get over my Italian affiliation so don’t hold it against my boy Jorgi here!” I address the group jokingly, as I wrap my right arm around his neck and he wraps his left around my waist.

Of course the Chelsea boys welcome him with open arms, they’ve known both Thiago and Jorgi longer than they’ve known me. The other boys offer their hellos before continuing to dance and drink with their mates. I say hi to everyone, give a big hug to my brother and Kyle (my chosen brother) before I'm wrapped into another hug I wasn't expecting.

“I’ve got to admit, you give a good hug” I say as I whisper into his ear.

“You’re a pretty easy person to hug, Mils”

“Always a smooth talker you are, Jack”

We parted and I grabbed myself a drink before spending the night dancing on top of the table with the girlfriends of the boys that I had only just been introduced to. Bonding over the fact that I was desperate for some female companionship, and also that I was the only single girl in the group, leading to the conclusion that they needed to be my wingwoman...all of them.

The night thereafter was spent finding suitable prospects for my whirlwind night of fun and romance, which I insisted wasn't necessary but also couldn't help but admit that it excited me just a little. It had been a while since I was close with a guy in that sense, and to be honest, the tequila shots that the girls had me doing was loosening me up in more ways than one.

Feeling the need for a break and some fresh air, I grabbed my purse and walked outside to sit along the retaining wall. We had reached that part of the evening where there was no chance I wasn't going to be allowed back into the club - the bouncers and security guards becoming more relaxed and carefree as it neared the time that the sun would reappear. Without thinking twice, I asked for a cigarette from some guys standing outside and a quick light, before returning to my little spot on the wall.

“They’re right bad for you, ya know” A voice to my right startled me.

“Jesus! You need to stop scaring me like that!” I shrieked.

“Nah not Jesus, just Chilly. However the beard has me thinking I do look a little bit God-like these days..no?” He says as he runs his fingers through the barely-there beard. Sure I could agree with stubble, maybe even a little bit more than stubble, but a beard? Not yet. However, I wasn't about to dim his sparkle.

“I like the beard, Chilly.” I confirmed.

“I like you, Mils” Wow ok. Straight to the point then.

“Well thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” I tried to play it off, it was obvious we had both consumed far too much alcohol this evening and the cigarette was currently working wonders in its purpose of sobering me up.

“Ya know, the girls were out there tonight looking for your Greek Adonis to come and sweep you off your feet. They were looking a bit too hard though, if you know what i mean” he sweet talks me, and its working.

“Wow Ben, you’re really out here laying it on thick tonight - factor 50 i would say. I’m sure you’re just looking through rose coloured glasses right now” I joked back with him. I can’t say I didn't notice all of his longing looks, extra attention to me, constant protection when we would be out in public, but I knew at the end of the week that I would be going back to Turin, so there wasn’t any point.

Finishing up our little chat (read: heavy flirting session), we headed back inside together to join the group. Before long, Jorgi comes up to me with a drink and a smug smile on his face.

“Che cosa?” (what?) I questioned him in Italian, trying to limit as many people understanding our conversation as possible.

“Cosa succede a mykonos, rimane a mykonos, no?” (what happens in mykonos, stays in mykonos, no?) He says as he leans into my ear. To anyone else it would just look like two friends trying to have a conversation in a loud club, but I understood his message loud and clear.

“non sto facendo niente di male, né l'ho mai fatto. non voleva etichette, quindi è quello che ha ottenuto” (i'm not doing anything wrong, nor have i ever. he wanted no labels so that’s what he got.) I say back firmly. Jorgi let go of my shoulders and moved to stand in front of me.

“It’s ok tesoro (darling), I’m sure Federico would agree with you” He said back to me in English, it was obvious that he wanted someone around to understand the premise of our conversation. He smiled cheekily at me, before taking a swig of his drink and dancing backwards into the crowd as I shook my head at him.

Jorgi and I developed the kind of friendship that would last through time. We were equals. We listened to each other's problems, offered the advice that we needed to hear & not necessarily wanted to hear. We promoted each other's happiness and tried to get each other to not take life too seriously. This was his way of bringing me back down to earth, reminding me of what I have waiting for me back in Turin, but also making sure I knew what was right in front of me. He left the decision up to me to make, but he played his part to make sure I knew all of my options. He really was a good friend, which would make my next career decision a little bit more challenging than anticipated.

Part 6. | parte sesta

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dclsbaby · 3 years

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mykonos-crossed lovers (part i) 🦋

🎶 playlist for part i

prologue

part ii

part iii

part iv

Summary: When you drunkenly book a girls trip to a tropical Greek island to help mend your broken heart, you would never for a second think it will take you exactly to where he is. Him. A tale of the right person at the wrong time, an overused cliché made into plots of movies you never thought would live through in your reality. Two people, still madly in love with each other, hearts still broken, suppressed by the alcohol and distractions consumed on this trip. Will they let their egos get in the way, protect what’s left of their already broken hearts, or will let their hearts speak?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: angst?

Author’s Note: hi everyone, thank you so so much for the responses to the prologue! I am so overwhelmed and did not expect to receive so much kindness it makes me wanna cry hahaha 🥺 thank you a thousand times over! and if this is your first time getting to know the fic, I highly suggest you read the prologue before diving into part 1! This chapter is sort of a filler chapter (I know it has 2.6k words lol), it shows how (y/n) have been doing since the break up & how the trip came about, I hope it’ll make sense once you read it 🤍 thanks for reading x

Gif:

It’s been months since you last spoke to him. Him. The thought of him still hurts. The idea of him existing without you, hurts. As much as you try to fight it, you still remember him like the back of your hand. You could draw on paper the contours of his face by memory, by instinct, like remembering your way home. He was a love you have never experienced before. Something about his magnetism seemed impossible to resist.

You and Dominic broke up nearly half a year ago. Your hopes of an amicable breakup were destroyed by him. His confusion, his anger, his frustration made it impossible for you two to stay friends. He couldn’t even begin to imagine being just a friend to you when his entire heart belongs to you. He called you selfish for leaving, he called you stubborn for having your mind made up without letting him put up a fight when he was ready to battle anyone, even you, to save your relationship.

The first few months were difficult, but the first few weeks were excruciating. You barely ate, as the numbing in the pit of your stomach constantly made you nauseous that your body couldn’t digest anything you ate. You couldn’t bring yourself to shower and get dressed, and spent days laying in bed, wallowing in sadness. Overtime, you just learn to live with the pain.

Since then, you’ve had good days, and slowly but surely stopped faking smiles and replaced them with genuine ones. But your bad days felt like hell, with your mind often teasing you with memories of him that you’ve suppressed enough to compartmentalise, then it comes back to you all at once, and consumes your entire soul. The pain is suffocating, like being crush by tidal waves, leaving you no time to run for shore, the waters dragging you, pulling you in many directions. All you could do was be still, stay paralysed, and pray that it goes away. That’s what remembering him felt like.

Then on other days, you often wonder how you were able to manage all this, with the pain still fresh whenever you think about it, but I guess we’re all guilty of pushing our feelings to the side and pretending that everything’s alright, when it’s the opposite. You’re still alive, despite it all. But you want to live, not just survive.

The truth is, you did not leave because you fell out of love. In fact, you were too in love—it’s a crime. He was your entire life. Days were spent waiting for him to come home from training and matches. Missing him during away games. Your entire happiness depended on him, and that terrified you. You weren’t happy with yourself either, and expected more out of your life. The burden of having a prosperous career, a stable income, a life for yourself that you loved, becoming too heavy to bear. You had all these dreams and goals set for yourself that you never got to actualise so you could be by his side. Your love for him was insurmountable, that you couldn’t accommodate anything for yourself. No matter how hard you tried, you will always put him first. It was natural. Even though he never asked for all your attention, you couldn't simply choose between yourself or him, because you would always choose him. Over and over.

So you did what you had to do, break your own heart, and his, to love yourself.

Since your breakup, you finally moved out of your friend’s place and got yourself a nice two-bedroom flat at the city centre with a stunning view of the city. You landed yourself a job as a junior editor for British Vogue that demands commuting to London several days a week. As you thrive in difficult situations, the breakup forced you to submerge yourself in work, mainly to avoid the pain, but it propelled you to get to where you are.

Trying to get over someone who is in the public eye was a different battle. It seemed as though everywhere you went, he’s there. You see him on billboards, TV screens, his face painted on murals, quickly becoming a tourist site. Occasionally, you would watch his games out of habit, and listen to the prideful Evertonian crowd chant his name. You witnessed his first England senior team debut, and tuned in to England v. Wales on the TV for old time’s sake. You watched him score his first senior England goal behind a screen. Your eyes welled at sight of him living his dream, poaching the ball into the net, scoring the first goal of the game, making his country and family proud. You feel the rush of adrenaline he felt as he ran to his teammates and celebrated. You can’t help but share this sense of pride, as you’ve watched firsthand how hard he has worked to get to where he is.

But on days where he isn’t on your mind, you do not want to be reminded of him. It’s difficult to cope when you encounter pieces of him that takes you back to the worst day of your life, and his.

Like last night, for instance. You had been scrolling on your social media when it was brought to your attention that a magazine had published an issue with your ex on the front cover, spotted on a night out with a blonde you don’t personally know but you could’ve sworn you’ve seen before. Perhaps another one of those so-called “influencers”, you thought to yourself. You know that you have no right to feel jealous or upset, as you broke up with him and this was bound to happen, but selfishly, a part of you had hoped that he wouldn’t find anyone else, or at least not before you did. You’re frustrated at yourself for letting him have this effect on you even months after your break up.

Succumbing to your bad habits, you give in to your impulses and pop open a bottle of red wine to calm your growing anxiety. Two glasses of wine, a takeout, and a season of Gossip Girl later, you find yourself slightly drunk, nerves calmed, and a little drowsy so you quickly change into your satin pyjamas and tuck yourself in bed.

You decide to turn on the TV for some background noise and quickly close your eyes. By some twist of fate, you hear a painfully familiar voice giving his thoughts at the end of a game he’s won. The sheer volume of his voice on the TV causes a sharp pain in your chest as you scramble to reach for your remote in the dark, with your eyes half opened. and change it to anything but a sports channel. That’s it, you thought to yourself. I need to get the fuck away.

Still drunk and not entirely aware of what you’re doing, you reach for your laptop on the nightstand. The brightness made your eyes squint a little bit, but you managed to type out a link and open a travel booking site, and scroll through different pictures of tropical islands you’re longing to get to. Anywhere but here, you thought. You selected options that you thought looked the blue-est, the most expensive, a party town, and had the most five star restaurants.

By the end of it you have booked a return flight to Mykonos for 5 people where you will be staying at a grand, luxurious 5-bedroom villa located at the party central of the island. You couldn’t be bothered to check how much it cost you. All sense of ration gets thrown out the window when you mix heartbreak with alcohol. When you told your friends of what you had just done, it was safe to say that they were surprised but absolutely ecstatic that you have booked a much needed getaway with the girls. With a three-day notice, you all quickly scramble through your closet and go on an online shopping spree to pick out your outfits for the holiday.

***

Days later, you find yourself landing on Mykonos island on a sunny afternoon.

“I can’t believe you’ve managed to pull all this off within days,” your friend says as you all walk through the pebbled entry way of your villa, and open the door. “Holy fucking shit,” another friend says in awe of the sight. The villa was filled with white interior, bright lights, wooden tables that give off beach vibes, and an infinity pool where you could swim as you watch the sunset, with a view of the blue sea. With 5 bedrooms to choose from, your friends collectively decided that you should take the master that had direct access to the pool, which you happily accepted but it wouldn’t matter anyway, as you’ll all probably stay in one room.

Once you’ve unpacked, you pull out your white cardigan and make your way out the terrace to catch a view of the sunset and have a moment by yourself. You take a deep breath of the fresh air with a hint of sea breeze as you try to take in the stunning view of the island. You are filled with gratitude as you bear witness to something so beautiful as you watch the sun sink into the blue Aegean Sea. Despite the peacefulness exuded by the view, your heart can’t help but feel Dom. You remember when he had brought up wanting to spend this exact summer in Mykonos with you, but life had other plans.

***flashback***

Dom was laying in bed with his laptop screen on his chest, an arm to support his head as he scrolled through the travel booking site. He had been looking through different options, but he has his mind set on a lovely town in Greece, Dubai’s overrated after all, he thought.

“Me, you, blue skies, tanned skin, bike rides around town, what do you think love?” asked Dom. “Where’s this?” you ask, moving closer to him as he shows you his laptop screen. “Mykonos. It’s not too far away, I’ll have enough time to rest before pre-season starts,” he replies. “That sounds like a plan,” you smile at him. “But we’ll book it closer to the summer, yeah? In case anything comes up,” you said as you plant a kiss on his cheek. He nods as he bookmarks the site and drifts off to sleep with you shortly after.

Unbeknownst to you, later that night he quietly opened his laptop and quickly booked the trip for you two as a surprise. Anything that will come in the way will just have to be compromised. He was adamant to make sure he gives you the best summer of your life, it is what you deserve after all, he thought.

***

You had forgotten about your conversation with Dom until you stood on the island. Your thoughts were interrupted by your friend’s footsteps. “Hey, you okay babe? You’ve been out here for a while,” she asks with concerned eyes. “I’m alright,” you said. “Or I will be,” you add, giving your friend a forced smile. Your friend wraps her arm around your shoulders as you two make it back inside to have an early and quiet night with the girls, exhausted from all the travel.

***

The next day you woke up a little late, with only several hours to tan before having to get ready for your dinner reservation at one of Mykonos’s famous restaurants that looks over the sea. A little frustrated at yourself for sleeping in, you went to the bathroom to wash your face, put on some light makeup, and change into your swimwear.

You join your friends who are sprawled on the sunbeds. “So, where is this place again?” you asked your friend who booked the dinner. “A restaurant by the sea located at party central babe. Everybody, I mean everybody goes here. They’ve got the best food and music,” she replies. “Think of Mamma Mia 1,” another friend chimes in. Your eyes widen at the imagery. “Better have some great alcohol too, I’m desperate for some,” you laugh. “That’s my girl,” your friend says.

***

By the late afternoon you and the girls are getting ready for dinner. Makeup bags and its contents sprawled on the floor, you had to tiptoe around makeup products and brushes, careful not to step on them. After long deliberation, you decided to dress up in co-ord that hugs your figure and fits you like a glove, paired with your favourite heels, settling for an elegant yet fun look. You decide to keep your hair down and put on some natural makeup to balance out the bold colour. After about 30 minutes of taking pictures of each other and some group photos, you finally made it out the door.

The location was spectacular. The ambience was complemented with bright lights to lighten the dim Mykonos sky that has turned a shade of dark blue, almost purple. The food was divine, a little overpriced for your liking, but it was worth it. The restaurant turns into a nightclub close to midnight, and you and your girls were eager to start your first round of drinks. Fruity drinks were passed around, made with fruits freshly picked from the gardens. Watermelon margarita was your drink of choice, partly sweet, partly sour, and just enough tequila as your first drink of the trip.

The restaurant was packed, you could’ve sworn you had seen a star of a Spanish series you’ve just finished watching on Netflix. The guests were well dressed, many had bravely eccentric taste, mixing patterns and sparkly jewellery, paired with funky footwear to add some flair. In Mykonos, you will not encounter the same judgment as you would walking down the streets back home.

Your friends stood up to dance the second the alcohol kicked in. You took your time, savouring your drink, wanting the night to last. You smile at the sight of your happy friends, so full of life, not giving a single care in the world. As you’re sitting there, observing people, you suddenly feel your chest get heavy. It’s hard to put into words what this feeling is like, but it pushes you to shut down in social settings, overwhelmed by strangers and loud music that makes your ears ring. It is a feeling of unexplained anxiety, where you need a second to correct your breathing, and calm yourself down. Not now, you thought, not here. You often feel these random bouts of emptiness since you left Dom. You try to push the discomfort away, and think of anything else but him. You stood up and walked to the edge of the restaurant by the white border wall to get some fresh air, and take in the view of calm waves under the night sky to collect some peace of mind.

You place your elbows on top of the border, and rest your head on the palms of your hands. A bystander would think that you’re a scene from a movie, a damsel in distress, longing for her love interest. But this was no movie, no fairytale, no knight in shining armour to protect you, no lover to sweep you off your feet.

Or so you thought.

Your focus on the sounds of splashing waves was interrupted by familiar footsteps, getting louder and louder as it creeps its way closer to you. The scent of the sea began to mix with an all too familiar scent of tobacco vanilla. Only one person came to mind. It can’t be, you thought.

“(Y/N)?,” his voice breaks.

It’s him.

#dominic calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin imagine #dominic calvert lewin imagines #mclfic

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alethiometry · 3 years

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thinkin about an alternate take on odyssey’s cult of kosmos storyline that may culminate in a blatant ripoff of valhalla but bear with me here lmao

instead of deimos continually antagonizing you the entire game as you try desperately to convince them that the cult is simply using them, deimos is actively trying to recruit you to fight alongside them. you are both demigods descended from sparta’s greatest hero, two sides of the same coin, etc. etc. as you go around killing cultists you get those cutscenes where each cultist gets to have one final say (just like all the other ac games) and while many joined and profited from the war for selfish reasons, there are enough of those who had lofty ideals that maybe you start to see that the two warring nations are both truly broken beyond repair. people are suffering because of the war, and for every callous profiteer that joined the cult to make a quick buck there’s also someone who joined just to survive, or because if you can’t beat em, join em -- at the least, they could then maybe stand a chance at protecting the people they love, even if it means others will have to pay that price. that’s just the way the world works, right?

and so after the battle of amphipolis and after killing the rest of the cult, you return to the cave of gaia in delphi and find not only deimos but also the ghost of kosmos down there, in front of the pyramid. deimos is still nursing his wounds from where kleon shot him, and the ghost finally unveils herself. both get their villain-y monologues about how it’s all for the greater good, everyone who died along the way was sacrificing themselves for a better world and the world will remember what they did -- but that will only happen if you join them. if you’re there to make sure they mattered. and the pyramid with its weird little artifacts still draws you in like it did that first night you infiltrated their meeting, and you and deimos and the ghost all touch it and you all get teleported via videogame magic or isu technology or whatever the fuck who cares it’s just a stupid scifi game let me live to...

atlantis?

it’s the exact same look and feel as the dlc: humans and gods living in (apparent) harmony, people are happy, families are together, there’s laughter and music and plenty of food and leisure. the buildings are gorgeous, there’s like fountains and gardens and aquariums and other cool shit, and if not for the weird isu tech all over the place you’d almost think it was elysium. but it’s not elysium, because you’re not dead. deimos isn’t dead. and you’ve never felt more at peace. the ghost tells you that this is all perfectly achievable, if only you join them in helping construct this world from the ashes of the old. deimos tells you that they’ve seen this in their dreams; the world was truly like this once, and it could be again.

there’s no war to be fought here; no pain or suffering or loss. deimos sheathes their sword and tells you that they cannot just go back to being family in the real world, not after everything that has happened and all the suffering you both have experienced -- out in the real world, you were both doomed to be nothing more than shattered bones and streaks of gore at the foot of sparta’s sacred mountain. you don’t matter out there, and you never did, and they know you are tired of trying to prove that you do, because they’re tired too. but in here, in this world, you could be together. you could be the siblings you never got the chance to be. this is what they were fighting for all along. they gave their name, and their life, and their innocence and their pain -- all to achieve this. and with your help they can finally stop calling themself deimos and reclaim their old name. or the two of you could find new names. you could be gods. you could slaughter the old gods, the ones whose prophecies doomed you both to die at the foot of mount taygetos (deimos still doesn’t know the cult orchestrated that lmao listen the brainwashing runs deep). you could be anyone you want here.

all of this feels so real. you feel like you could stay here forever.

deimos extends their hand. you reach out to take it. to join them.

and something tumbles out of your pouch.

it’s a little wooden eagle, a child’s toy, battered and all scratched up with most of its defining features worn away. you know it well. you know every contour of it because a little girl gave it to you when you left the island where you and she once lived, to go make a name for yourself in a war that never seemed to end, until suddenly it did. you know this toy eagle because you folded that little girl’s cold, dead, still-bloody fingers around it one terrible night in athens. you were told, later, that the eagle burned with her on the pyre your friends constructed for her. and so the only reason this eagle is here now, the only reason you can run your hands along its outstretched wings and trace the whorls of the woodgrain with your fingertips and feel the slight weight of it in your palm is because none of this is real.

what is real is this: the cult existed, and phoibe died. leonidas died. perikles died. brasidas died. and you cannot live in a world where the very act of dying for the world they didn’t know they were helping to shape is the one thing that becomes the defining feature of their legacies. where their lives become nothing more than some kind of grotesque buttressing to prop up the very people who got them all killed.

there’s some kind of bossfight against deimos, who, despite their appeals to you to join them as a battlefield companion and true siblings after too many years lost between you, still doesn’t hesitate to turn against you as they always have the moment things do not go their way. because that’s the way it is between the two of you: they push, and you push back.

and the more you fight, the more atlantis crumbles. the others don’t seem to notice; they simply sit there and laugh and sip wine and dance and sing as stone after stone falls from the vast turrets and crushes first their companions, then them, into blood and bone and gristle. there’s a gate up on the highest tower of the city, and you know instinctively that without it you’ll be stuck here in this strange dream-limbo, fighting your sibling for eternity as both worlds, dream and real, carry on with or without you. and as you make your way to it (maybe there’s some sweet parkour opportunities here with like falling debris and such) deimos gives chase and as you draw closer to the gate you start to see that it’s not empty at all, but full of people crowing in to take a peek at all the commotion.

there’s sokrates and hippokrates and aristophanes. alkibiades looking uncharacteristically worried, and [insert any npc lieutentants you’ve recruited like roxana or odessa]. xenia is there, and so is anthousa. kyra and/or thaletas, too (depending on the outcome of the mykonos questline). and a gang of plucky little kids, all cheering you on: khloe, the girl with the clay friends; arsenios, the tour-guide-turned-con-artist; ardos and his caretaker. (and i guess nikolaos and stentor if they’re still alive lmao) (maybe pythagoras is allowed too but he’s on thin fucking ice)

and, of course, myrrine. standing at the forefront, shoulder to shoulder with barnabas and herodotos. all three of them -- alongside everyone else you’ve ever allied with, fought beside, or helped out -- everyone who loves you, everyone you’ve ever loved -- they’re beckoning you home. back to the real world, where they matter. where you matter.

where you have always mattered.

you’re so close to taking your mother’s hand, you can feel the warmth of her fingertips -- and then you hear a scream below you.

it’s deimos, and they’re falling. maybe they tripped in their haste to catch you. maybe some of the falling rubble knocked them off-balance. it doesn’t matter. the only thing that matters is that your sibling is falling to their doom. again. and there’s nothing you can do about it.

except this time there definitely is.

so you leap from the ledge with all the strength you have, the roaring in your ears drowning out myrrine’s shouts. you’ve fallen from greater heights, after all, and lived to tell the tale. this is nothing. and this time you’ll catch your sibling, because this is your dream, too. and in your dream, you can do whatever the fuck you want.

you catch deimos, the both of you still falling, the ground rushing up to meet you -- and you both wake in the cave of gaia with a jolt. each of you still have a hand on the pyramid, and you make eye contact. they give you the slightest of nods, as if to say i’m okay. i’m awake.

the ghost is still asleep, head bowed, eyes flitting to and fro behind closed eyelids, both hands still on the pyramid.

you destroy the pyramid with your grandfather’s spear. this wakes the ghost. she’s furious, and tells you that you’ve made a terrible mistake. the cult of kosmos may be extinguished, but the ideals she worked toward are not. (basically this kind of mirrors the whole spiel about the philosopher-king or whatever tf the ghost said at the end of the actual in-game storyline that foreshadowed the order of ancients and eventually the templars)

deimos looks to you and mutters that it’s your choice what to do next. the ghost tries to appeal to them but they’ve run out of fucks to give. they leave.

[kill the ghost] what it says on the label. you get a nice little ac-esque assassination cutscene and it’s actually got some emotional weight to the decision/scene, unlike the game.

[walk away] leave the ghost in the cave. the pyramid is gone, the cult is dead, your sibling is free. the ghost will live the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, knowing that the grandchildren of leonidas have seen her for what she is. knowing that whatever she does next, they’ll be watching closely.

when you leave the cave, you see deimos, pacing as they overlook the view of phokis from mount parnassos. it’s high noon and the sun glints brilliantly off their gilded armor. they glance at the temple of apollo and remark how strange it is to be standing here together, so close to the place where both your fates were sealed with just a few words from a puppet pythia a lifetime ago.

you ask what they’re going to do, now that the cult is gone.

the peace of nicias isn’t going to hold, they tell you. the war will start again soon enough, and when that happens both athens and sparta will be looking for champions to fight for their side.

dialogue choices:

[i’ll see you on the battlefield] you and your sibling part ways. subsequent conquest battles have a chance of spawning a bossfight against deimos who is fighting for the other side -- neither of you can perma-kill the other so you can encounter/fight them over and over again. at the end of the conquest battle, no matter who wins, you can see them walking up and down the battlefield and you can have some silly little sibling banter, which changes depending on who wins/loses the battle

[join me, fight with me] deimos joins your crew just like in the game. unlike the game, you can interact with them at any time while they’re walking up and down your ship and have sibling banter because i just want some decent fucking sibling banter in this game

no matter which option you pick, the first time you return to sparta after finishing this storyline you’ll have the option of entering your old family home and triggering the family dinner cutscene with all the surviving members of your family because goddammit even after all this wishful revisionism i still love that silly little family dinner

anyway in conclusion this is what i want out of odyssey, thanks for coming to my TED talk, don’t forget to smash that like&subscribe the way the eagle bearer definitely smashed brasidas’ fine spartan ass offscreen bc ubisoft were too smoothbrained to give us the romance we deserved

#tuserautumn #userbryn #assassin's creed #ac odyssey #cool story charlotte #can u tell i listened to 'leaving valhalla' one too many times on loop tonight and have been cryin in the club @ that doorway scene #idk fam i just want a remaster/retweaking of odyssey #where all the art direction and the characters and music and general story beats are the same #but with a more coherent narrative that doesn't disintegrate the moment you start prodding at the plot holes #yes i'm fully aware that deimos dies in novel/wiki canon NO i do NOT care. FUCK that. in this version deimos lives #anyway ub*s*ft hmu there's way more odyssey-reboot ideas where this came from and they're all WAY hornier + involve pegging spartan general #better yet just let me buy the fucking franchise already cmon #i've got IDEAS #i mean they're not GOOD ideas but like.#must ideas be good??? is it not enough simply fulfill all the desires in my selfish little gremlin heart????????

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fatbiatchforever · 2 years

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Getaway (Pt.2)

Part 1

The first three days of our getaway was absolute heaven. Laying on the golden beach, swimming in the ocean while enjoying the sunset and the late night walks. Not to mention, the amazing sights and mesmerizing sceneries. Oh, and the food beats everything. The pita wraps from the local shop is heaven in a wrap.

"I was in a constant state of zen for the last three days." Rox says while cleaning her face of sauce. Jake wipes the rest of her nose with his thumb.

"You see vacations like this in movies." Adrian adds.

Rox points her finger at him, "Exactly!"

I close my eyes while I savor my bite, "This is everything I've been looking for."

"You've got some real competition." Bucky laughs at Xander's remark.

"I don't blame her." Bucky takes a bite and we both nod together.

I turn to Jake, "What's on the itinerary for tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, we'll be getting sky view of Mykonos from a hot air balloon."

"Woah. That's sounds amazing."

"That's evening. Before that we're going for scuba diving at the paradise beach." Adrian reminds us, "Get ready to leave at nine."

I nod and turn to Bucky, who looks blankly at his plate. Before I could say anything, Jake says my name,

"Y/N. Nine means nine. Not ten thirty."

"Hey!" I move back and hold my hand out, "That's not fair. I'm late once in a while. I'm getting better at it."

"That's true. Since Bucky, less of my time gets wasted on waiting for her."

"Hey!" I turn to Adrian. He grins as I roll my eyes, "For the record, your fiancé is worse than me. Yet, I don't see you telling her anything."

Jake shakes his head, "It's a work in progress."

Rox punches his arm, "Hey!"

"It is what it is Roxanne."

Rox shrugs, "Yeah."

"I'm so excited for the hot air balloon. I know it'll look amazing."

I turn to Bucky who seems really deep in thought. I lean closer to him, "Buck?"

He looks at me.

"You good?"

Bucky nods, "Yeah." He lifts the wrap up, "This is really good."

"I know!"

Rox rests her face on Jake's shoulder, "I'm tired."

Jake and Rox gets up, "Good night."

Rox clings to Jake's arm and mumbles good night.

"Y/N if I don't see you up by eight thirty, I will use the water hose." Jake threatens.

I groan, "We'll need a room for their kids. Think about living with that on a daily basis. Those poor souls."

Bucky laughs as Jake audibly sighs and moves upstairs.

"Excuse us. We're going for a walk." Adrian gets up and pulls Xander with him.

I scoff, "Sure. Don't forget that we can see things from here."

"Then don't look." With that Adrian walks off.

Xander gives us a sly smile before following Adrian.

"He still wouldn't say he'll be careful." I run my fingers through Bucky's hair, "What do you want to do?"

"I'm kind of tired. Wanna go up?"

"Let's go."

We clear the dining table and head to our room. Bucky changes into a grey sweatpants and I change into shorts and baggy shirt. I sit on the bed, my back facing Bucky, to apply cream. Bucky wraps his arm around my waist and presses his face on my back.

"Little or Big."

I hear a muffled "Little."

I put the cream back and turn to him.

"Move a bit."

Bucky rolls to the other side and waits for me to settle before rolling back. He rests his face on my chest and lays his legs over mine. He protectively drapes his metal hand over my hips and snuggles further. He huffs in frustration before raising his face to look at me.

"Y/N." He whines.

My face changes to a grin when I realize what he's talking about. I run my hand through his brunette hair and gently scrape my nails on his scalp. Bucky hums in satisfaction.

"I love you."

I laugh, "I love you too, Buck."

Bucky moves away to pull the blanket on both of us. Once he brings it till his chest, he lays back on me.

"Good night, Doll."

"Good night."

Next Day

Someone knocks on the door.

"Y/N! You better be up."

Bucky laughs and opens the door for Adrian.

"Hey Bucky. Is she up?"

Bucky lets Adrian in, "She woke up an hour ago."

"I never thought this day would come."

I turn to look at him, "Hi Jake. I told you I'll be ready."

I fix my hair and walk out of the bathroom.

Adrian and Bucky were talking about scuba diving when I notice something.

"Are those water balloons?" I move closer to look at it.

"I really thought I could use this. But you had to get up early."

"OH MY GOD! You were actually going to do that. JAKE!"

He holds the balloons in front of him, "WHAT? Only if you were asleep."

I shake my head, "Whatever. I'm going to Rox."

I walk across the hall and push the door open. Rox was busy digging through her suitcase.

"Hey!" I sit on the edge of the bed.

"Hey Y/N. How are you ready?"

"I woke up an hour early to prove it to that ass."

Rox laughs while raising two tops out, "I like the brown one but the tank top is more comfortable."

"The brown one looks good for hot air ballon thing. Wear the tank top for now."

"I'm going to do that."

"Rox, can I borrow one your sunglasses? Bucky accidentally sat on my sunglass pouch."

Rox pulls the top on her, "Yeah. Of course. When did that happen?"

"First day. When he was looking for his swim shorts."

She snorts, "Karma."

"Shut up."

We talk about going for a shopping spree with the just two of us, when Adrian comes in.

We greet him together, "Hey!"

"Hi." Adrian sits beside me, "How did you know you love Bucky?" He turns to Rox, "Your case, Jake."

Rox and I share a look, "Uhm, I always knew with Jake. You know as friends, but when we started dating I knew for sure I loved him. We both told each other at the same time. Actually, Jake did and I immediately told him back."

Rox smiles widely as Adrian nods.

"Y/N?"

They both turn to me, "I, uh, one time when he was sleeping and I got up before him. I was just looking at him and I had this overwhelming feeling to hug him. I hate hugging, but with him I could never get enough if it. Thats when I knew, what I feel for him is very different and new. Whenever I look at him, there's this warm feeling and I genuinely feel like he brightens my day. He automatically brings a smile on my face. And he makes it very difficult to feel anything but love for him. Bucky's the first one I felt romantic love for, you know?"

"I think I get the warm feeling and happiness part." Adrian says, deep in thought.

Rox clears her throat, "Why do you want to know?"

I lean to his side, "Is it related to XANDER?"

"Is IT?" Rox sits on the other side, sandwiching Adrian between us.

His eyes were on the door as he signaled us to keep it down, "Can you guys stop screaming?"

Jake and Bucky walks inside the room, "What's happening?"

"Our boy is grown up." I cheer while patting Adrian's back.

Bucky raises his eyebrow, "What?"

"He just asked us when did we know we loved you guys." Rox says while Adrian turns beet red.

Jake smirks, "You love Xander?"

"Do you need a microphone? Stop screaming." Adrian whisper yells.

"Do you?" Bucky asks with a grin.

"Maybe, I don't know... I think I do. I don't know whether I should tell him."

"You should." Bucky says.

I turn to him. Bucky smiles, "Y/N told me first, even though I felt that before she said. I regret that I wasn't the first to say because I was scared of rejection. And Y/N being an over thinker might have kept it for herself for at least a month before telling me. So we went for months feeling the same, but too scared of each others reaction." I smile at him.

"I always loved her. I was just giving her time to realize too. But Rox can't take a hint, so I had verbally say it for her to do something."

"I told you five minutes later!" Rox says.

"That felt like pity."

"It wasn't. I was just processing it."

I interrupt before conversation heads somewhere else, "Guys. Let's stay on Adrian's thing for now."

Adrian looked truly confused, "I'll see. I-"

"Why wasn't I called for the group meeting?" Xander enters the room, "Wait you guys aren't planning to prank me, right?"

"No. We were just getting ready and these three came in."

I smile, "Yeah. If we're going to prank someone it's definitely Adrian and you would be included. Don't worry."

"Adrian, you okay?"

Adrian eyes looked like it could pop out of his blushing face, "Yeah. It's almost nine. I've been trying to get them out. Come on."

Adrian pulls Xander with him, outside the room.

"I love lovestruck Adrian." I take one of the sunglasses and try it on.

Rox turns to Jake, "By the way, it wasn't pity. It was genuine."

I grab Bucky's hand and walk to the door, "We'll be waiting down. Good luck."

Bucky closes the door behind us and grabs his bag pack from the couch, "I'm really sorry about your glasses."

I laugh, "It's fine. It's karma for what I did to you."

"I can't believe all the three broke." He throw the bag on his shoulder.

"I can. Anything will break under those muscles."

"Like how you do?" He smirks.

I nod with a smirk on my face, "That was good. I didn't see that coming, Barnes."

We both laugh and walk downstairs to find Xander and Adrian.

"I need to talk to Adrian. Could you keep Xander busy?"

"Yeah." Bucky walks to Xander and Adrian and starts a conversation. When Adrian looks at me, I signal him to come to me.

"Uhm, guys. I'll wait outside for the cab." I announce.

Adrian looks at me in confusion, "I'll come with you?"

"Fine."

We walk outside together and sit on the steps, "What's happening?"

"Look, I know you're on fence about this whole thing. But Xander and I had a small conversation the day we came here. He felt bad for being scared about you going back how things were."

"What? I want to be with him."

"I know. But can you blame the guy for doubting, given your history?"

"No."

"Exactly. The whole point of me telling you this is you can't be scared of losing someone, if you don't love them. Or at least really really like them. So I'm not telling you he might immediately reciprocate your feelings but I know he's for sure on the way. Bucky is right. I was scared he was going to freak out or feel pressured. But I knew I felt that for him and he deserved to know no matter what his reaction would be. So just trust your gut feeling and don't be afraid to take a chance. What's meant to be, will happen no matter what."

Adrian just looks straight. I sit with him in silence.

"I know I love him. I don't want to go back to way the things were. He's all I need. I was going to tell him yesterday night, but I chickened out last minute."

"It's going to work out. Trust me."

He laughs, "I trust you. You sense these things pretty accurately."

"Finally, someone admits it! Now, repeat those exact words to those buffoons inside."

"Where are they?"

"That Jake has the nerve to say I'm late when he's not even out yet. JAKE!" I scream at top of my lungs.

The cab parks in front of us at the exact time.

"I'll go call them." I walk inside, "The cab's here. They're not down yet?"

Xander and Bucky shakes their head. Xander was moving out as Bucky leans back on the railing.

"JAKE! ROX! GET OUT OF THAT ROOM BEFORE I THROW THOSE BALLOONS ON YOUR HEAD!"

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yeah. I think it went good. ROXANNE! JAKE!"

"So, how excited are you for the hot air balloon?" Bucky asks.

"Very. I mean, I've never done anything like that. Have you?"

"If you're asking have I been at heights on things which is not the most safest, then yes. That's how I ended up here."

Before I could say anything, I hear the door opening.

They walk downstairs.

"If it isn't Mr. "Nine means nine not ten thirty". What happened in there, huh?"

"Shut up." Jake walks past me and Rox smiles shyly.

"You're lipstick is all messed up, Rox." Bucky and I laugh as we go out to the cab.

"Where are they?" Xander asks.

"They're finally down. They'll be here in a minute."

Everyone gets in the van and we head off to Paradise beach.

Once we got there, we were given basic training to survive under water for half an hour. We took a bunch of picture with our gear on and got on the boat.

Bucky sits beside me and hold my hand, "It's beautiful."

"I know. Think how pretty it'll be underwater."

"I'm glad I'm doing this with you."

"Me too. New experiences."

"And new memories."

The experience was like nothing I've felt before. The pretty coral and the tiny fishes swimming around while you explore the depths of the sea, calms you. Bucky and I swam around together. The thirty minutes went by pretty fast.

Everyone was quiet on the way back. Everyone had huge smiles on their face as we admired to view around us. Except for Bucky. He seemed expressionless. Just blank. Maybe he's just taking in the feeling.

Once we got back, I was the first one to change into my clothes and get out of the dressing room. I saw two missed calls from Sam. So, I called him back.

"Hey!"

"Hi. Where are you?"

"We just went for scuba diving. We left the phone here."

"How was it?"

"It was amazing dude. Pretty and calming at the same time. I'm not a nature person, but this was a great experience. We miss you Sam."

"I hate being Captain America."

I laugh, "You know you love it."

"Yeah, but it's still a pain in the ass. I wanted to be there. I heard the house is good."

"It's perfect. You know you could join anytime. We're still here for another five days."

"Yeah. If this finishes in a day, I'll come and join you guys in paradise. What else for today?"

"We have hot air ballon ride for the evening."

"Damn! That sounds good."

"I know. I'm so excited."

"What's Buck going to do?"

"He'll be there with us."

"What? He agreed to go?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Because he's scared of heights."

"WHAT?!"

"You didn't know?"

"NO."

"How could you not know?"

"We've never done anything that requires us to be at a great height."

"God. He never said it out loud to me. But I have been on enough missions with him to know he won't like floating in the air in a basket."

"Shit! That makes sense. He was a little off, when Adrain told us about it. He kept saying he was fine and you know it's better not to push anything on him. And then just before we got out, I asked him if he did anything like that. He basically said that him being on things at a height is how he ended up here. I completely forgot about that. How did I not see this?"

"Bucky is getting better, but he still communicates in cryptic code."

I scoff, "We're definitely not going. He's been really happy and I don't want him be pushed to do something he doesn't want to. Thanks, Sam. You saved us from a whole thing."

"Well, that's what I do."

"By the way, I'm being serious about you joining us."

"I'm serious about coming too. I'll let you know tomorrow. Y/N, I need to go."

"Perfect. See ya. Bye."

"Bye."

I end the call and let out a huff.

He could have told me. If I ask him he's going to straight up deny and get distant. He won't let me stay back, after I went on about how excited I am. UGHHHHHHHH.

"I'm hungry." I turn back to face, not a surprise, grumpy Bucky.

"HEY. How are you?"

He squints his eyes, "I just told you. I'm hungry."

"Right. Uhm, let's get some food in you, huh? Where are they?"

"How are you?"

"Perfecto. Speaking of feelings, are you happy? Sad? Excited? Scared?"

"I'm happy." He answers plainly.

"About everything?"

"Yeah."

I nod, "Cool. Cool. There. GUYS!"

"I need something to drink." Adrian says.

"We're hungry. Let's go to that restaurant." I point.

Everyone immediately agrees and starts walking.

I look at Bucky. That's not the face of a happy person.

"Uhm, Buck. So, I just remembered about that conversation we had before we left."

Bucky tightens his grip on the strap of the bag, "What?"

"The whole 'This is how I ended up here.' thing."

Bucky looks straight and clenches his jaw, "I was kidding."

"Really? I've never heard you-"

"Y/N. I'm fine. I'll be better once I eat." With that he paces over to Jake and Adrian.

For the rest, I walk with Xander and Rox. Once we reach at the restaurant, Bucky sits opposite to me. The whole lunch, we smiled at each other while joining in on the main conversations.

We get a cab back to the house to get ready for the next thing. The whole ride I was thinking of what to do.

Once we reached, everyone went to their rooms. Just as I was going up, Bucky spoke.

"I'm going for a walk."

"Do you want to go for the balloon thing?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. We need to leave in four-" Bucky heads out without saying anything, "ty five minutes."

I mean, this is so Bucky. Yesterday night he was clinging to me like his life depended on it, but now he won't even wait for me to finish talking. And he was happy before scuba diving.

I take a bath and change into something comfortable. I looked out of the window to see Bucky sitting on the sand and looking at the oncoming waves.

I'm done. It's time to do something.

I set everything up and walk downstairs to find everyone dressed.

"Y/N! Why aren't you dressed?" Rox asks.

Bucky opens the sliding doors and enters.

"I think it's the lunch. I don't feel good." I place my hand on my stomach.

Adrian laughs, "Great. She has diarrhea."

Jake holds his phone out, "I'll change it to some other day."

"No. Wait, you guys go. I've already gone for this."

"When?" Xander asks.

"Family vacation. You guys, don't miss it. Go. I'll be fine."

Rox turns behind, "Bucky, are you coming?" Everyone looks at him and Bucky looks at me wide eyed, "I, uh, I'll stay with her."

"Okay. We need to leave. Call us if you two need anything." Jake says.

I nod, "Have fun."

Adrian pulls me into a hug, "Sorry about your diarrhea. Don't stick the place up." I hit his head in return. He scowls at me.

"I have some meds in my room, do you want me to get it?"

"No, it's fine. I just need to rest. Don't worry." I smile at Xander.

"You sure you can't come. Don't leave me alone." Rox whines.

"I would have come, if I was feeling better. I'll make it up to you."

Rox hugs me, "Fine."

All of them bid their goodbyes to Bucky.

I look at Bucky, who looks at me with worry, "Why don't you go lay down? I'll bring you some hot tea."

I roll my yes and move to the couch, "Sit down."

He sits beside me, "You should rest-"

"I'm fine. I'm not sick."

Bucky eyebrows knit together, "Why did you lie?"

I scoff, "Good question. Why don't you ask yourself that?"

"What?"

"I know you didn't want to go for it."

He stares at me. I shake my head.

"When were you going to tell me you were afraid of heights?"

"I'M NOT."

"James."

"I'm not afraid of heights. Maybe uncomfortable, but not afraid."

I cover my eyes, "Fine. Why didn't you tell me that?"

"It never came up."

"We've been together for three and half years and been married for one of them. How has it not come up?"

He shrugs.

"Buck. Please just be honest."

Bucky shakes his head and turns to me, "I don't mind height on planes or jets, if I don't have to jump. But when I have to see something from long, it's..."

"Scary?"

Bucky doesn't answer. He simply looks at his hands.

"Bucky, you have every reason to be scared. You have lot of trauma related to that. And no one would judge you for a second for that. Especially me."

His eyes meet mine, "I thought I could go for it. You seem really excited and I knew if I told you this, you would stay back with me."

"Not a reason for you to hide that. I don't care, unless you're with me. And I'm sure, we'll have better time here than there. You don't have to be strong for me. You just have to be honest with me."

I hold his cheek, "I know you hold yourself strong in front of others. But with me, you don't have too. You could fall apart or be scared of things, it won't phase me a bit."

"I thought I could get over it."

I hug him, "You need to let it heal, first. Besides your thing seems so much more sensible than my fear of disgusting bugs."

Bucky laughs, "Everyone has their thing."

"Exactly! So, is there anything else you're uncomfortable with that I don't know?"

He thinks about it, "Nothing that I can think of. When did you realize?"

"Someone helped me connect the dots."

"Who?"

"You don't want to know."

He sighs, "Sam."

"I mean, if it wasn't for him, I would have to deal with you're brooding and thousand other things. Just let me know next time, please?"

"I will."

"Good. Now, I know the half the day you were busy being grumpy and broody to me. Except for the scuba diving part."

He smiles, "That was nice. I'm sorry about today."

"I got something planned for you to relax."

I pull him with me, "What?"

We walk upstairs and I open the door for him. Bucky's eyes light up when he enters the dark room and notices the candles around the bathtub.

I check the temperature of the water, "It's still warm. Get in."

Bucky strips with a huge smile on his face. He gets in and relaxes back.

"I'm giving you a bath today."

Bucky nods, "I love when you give me a bath."

I giggle, "I know."

"I'm sorry you couldn't go-"

"There's no place I rather be. Understood?"

"Understood."

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes

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semperintrepida · 3 years

Text

Payable Upon Proof of Death

The weather was about to change, and the dawn skies above Kassandra's head glowed like coals in a forge, red folding into orange, bright but without heat. She stood at the Adrestia's railing, shivering in her armor, and swept her gaze further down the beach, where the soldiers in the Spartan camp were already moving with smooth and silent efficiency. Keep your mouth shut and let your spear talk for you. A favorite polemarch saying. She wondered if Thaletas had ever passed it along to his men.

Below her, the huddled shapes that dotted the sands around the dock began to stir, the blanket-covered lumps yawning and stretching back into people, some forty in all, each of them family of one of the rebel fighters left on Mykonos. It would be the Adrestia's job to deliver them to safety.

She didn't envy Barnabas and Gelon, who'd have to make sure everyone made it onto the ship, and quickly. A hard task getting harder in the commotion spreading across the sand, as belongings were packed, little ones escaped from their parents to tumble with gleeful shrieks into the surf, and voices grew tense and louder.

Chaos was what it was, and she imagined what Kyra would do to put it in order. She'd stroll into the crowd, let every eye settle upon her while sizing up the situation. Then she'd pick a few people from the group, give them her instructions, and turn them loose while adding her own hands to the effort until the work was done.

Kassandra smiled as she indulged in the daydream. She closed her eyes, hoping to add Kyra's voice to the illusion — but it only made the sound of approaching footsteps easier to hear, steps that rolled with the perpetual motion of waves.

She glanced upwards as Barnabas joined her at the railing. "I don't like the look of that sky," she said.

"Aye. We'll sail for Siros instead. Plenty of shelter in its coves, and we'll be able to drop anchor early. I won't go running towards Poseidon's anger with so many families aboard."

"Agreed." She watched the people below gather the baskets and bundles that held all they had left of their lives. "Did they decide where they wanted to go?" There'd been disagreement among the families, and Barnabas had been forced to play magistrate to settle the dispute.

"Keos. We'll fly the Pirate Queen's colors, and she's certain to grant refuge to these fine people. She favors you, in her way."

"She'll favor me more when I bring her that chest full of drachmae."

Barnabas laughed. "Aye, she will, but she's no friend of tyrants either. And I'll—" He didn't finish, distracted by movement on the gangplank, where a crewman was limping down to the dock. Kassandra looked closer. Not a he, but a she. That smuggler Iola, who seemed to be moving well after her escape from death's claws and teeth.

"If Xenia asks for more drachmae," Kassandra said, "tell her to add it to my tab."

An annoyed shout blasted the deck and pushed his answer aside. "What are we fucking waiting for? Someone to roll out a welcome carpet woven from the hair on Zeus's ass?"

Kassandra chuckled despite herself. Gelon's curses were growing ever more vibrant. She'd have to remember that one for later.

Then there was a flurry of motion among the crew as Gelon played the part of a herding dog nipping at their heels. The chaos had spread onto the docks, and a crowd of people jostled around the gangplank, while the youngest children played in the sand below and chased each other around the wooden pilings. The older ones wore the same furrowed brows as their parents, and were standing off to the side, some carrying small bundles of their own, others holding babies.

Uprooted. Adrift. Hoping that this would be temporary, that it would last only long enough for Kyra and her rebels to depose Podarkes and cleanse the island of his supporters.

Barnabas leaned back against the railing, his dead eye gleaming orange. "I see you took my advice," he said.

"And which mote of wisdom was that?"

He pressed his hand to his chest. "Mote! You wound me, Kassandra. Have you forgotten that motes can accumulate like sand on a beach?" He grinned and raised his eyebrows. "Some lucky lady owes Eros an offering, eh?"

"Ares's balls, am I that obvious?"

"There's no shame in that. You're a great many things, Eagle Bearer... but maybe not so subtle."

Kassandra sighed.

"Do you know who is subtle?" he asked. "Kyra."

The rising heat in her face would give him all the answer he needed, damn him.

"Ha, I knew it! You two have been circling like sharks since we got here." He punched her lightly in the arm. "You've an eye for the finer things, I see. Why, if I were younger I might have tried to woo her with a few poems myself."

Kassandra rolled her eyes.

His face grew serious. "I like her. I like her a great deal."

"So do I." She pressed her forearms into the rail and flexed her fingers, watching bones and muscles work together. Skin hid so much. "It scares me. A little."

He blinked, then peered at her closely. "How so?"

"I worry about her." Saying it out loud didn't make her feel any better. "No matter where she goes on this island, she's surrounded by threats." Her fingers curled into fists. She squeezed until her shoulders were tight as hawsers, released, then did it again. "And I know she can take care of herself, but..."

"Aphrodite's gifts sometimes don't feel like gifts at all."

Is that what this was? "I hope I've given Aphrodite cause to treat me gently."

"She can be kind as well as cruel. Your worries mean your feelings are real."

"I didn't know you were wise in the ways of love as well as sailing."

"It's the same thing, isn't it? Navigating fickle currents, weathering storm after storm... And yet, when the sun comes out and turns the waves to gold, and you feel the wind in your face and know that you're home — it all becomes worth it." Then he smiled, like a break in an autumn sky, sunny one moment only to cloud over the next. "I was married, once."

"Once?"

"A long time ago." He sighed and looked into the distance, and she sensed him treading water above depths darkened by sadness. "I'll tell you the tale some other time," he said.

She looked down at her hands, and at the water slapping against the side of the ship's hull. "I'm not sure I like this... worrying. Even if it is some god's idea of a gift."

"You'll just have to make room in your heart for it."

"It doesn't go away?"

The question surprised him. "Would you want it to?"

Ever since the night she'd spent with Kyra in the hunter's hut, her worry had become entwined with something more, and now a memory emerged from the buried depths, of a time when she was five years old and had slipped away from her chores to explore the city of Sparta and its wondrous delights, and she'd taken off as fast as she could run, thrumming with illicit excitement, dodging merchants and helots in the agora, climbing the vine-clad walls of the Temple of Artemis onto its roof in time to see the setting sun paint Mount Taygetos gold. She'd stood there, drinking in the crisp air and the divine view, her blood shimmering with the thrill of it, until her mother's voice broke through her elation. Then she'd gone to the edge of the roof and peered over the side. The ground was so far away. How in Hades would she get back down?

She shook the memory away and lifted her gaze back to the beach, where Iola was helping carry blankets to the dock. "Glad to see her up and about."

Barnabas's eyes followed hers. "Iola? Aye, she's a strong one, both in will and good fortune."

"Good fortune? She almost got mauled to death by a bear."

He turned and faced her, his eyes soft. "It brought her to you, didn't it?" he said, along with a cryptic smile. "And you..." He fell silent, but her mind filled in the missing words anyway: You brought her to me.

If he wanted to say more, he would have. She wouldn't pry. Instead, she stood beside him and watched the happenings on the beach in silence, until the fires in the skies cooled to merely dramatic shades of pink, and the rebel families had long begun ferrying their goods up the gangplank.

She gestured at the remnants of the camp. "Will you be ready to depart once they're all on board?"

"We're still waiting on one family that didn't arrive last night... and one of the crew."

"Who?"

"Onomastos. He was due back yesterday with the rest, but no one's seen him." Barnabas frowned. "He's a good lad. It's not like him to be late."

"Wait for them, then. I'll leave it up to you to decide when to depart."

"Aye, Commander. We'll be back in time to see you put Podarkes's head on a spike."

She appreciated his optimism, but she wouldn't be the one holding Podarkes's head up on display — that was Kyra's destiny to fulfill.

And being on the Adrestia wasn't helping Kyra at all.

Down on the sand, past the following eyes and the trailing voices, the expanse of beach between the docks and the Spartan camp was strangely serene. Walls of rock guarded the cove in a protective circle, and the only entry point was on the far side of the camp, where she found Thaletas's lieutenant in conversation with the two soldiers on guard duty.

He turned at her approach. "Eagle Bearer."

She nodded a greeting at him and the others.

"Haven't seen the polemarch, have you?" he asked.

That made her stop. "No."

"He went to the rebel hideout at sunset last night and hasn't been seen since."

That's when she'd left Kyra at the spring. Her stomach tightened. "Perhaps he stayed the night at the hideout," she said in a neutral tone.

"He usually sends word."

She would have answered if the soldiers hadn't readied their spears and shields and focused their attention on the narrow funnel of beach and a lone man running towards them.

"Kassandra!"

She recognized him. The lad Barnabas had spoken of earlier, Onomastos. "Let him through, he's one of mine."

"Stand down," the lieutenant said to the soldiers.

Onomastos ran through the gate, skidding to a halt before her. "Kassandra— I mean, Commander. There's—" He choked on his words, doubling over and panting hard.

"Breathe," she said.

He did, in great huffs, and then he pulled himself upright and tried again. "There's trouble in the city, and smoke in the forest north of it."

"What do you mean by 'trouble'?"

"The streets are deserted, and Podarkes's men have taken over the port. They're checking everyone coming in or out by ship. I only got through because I'm a citizen of Delos." He waved his hands helplessly. "I couldn't get a ride from Delos yesterday. Every felucca was booked."

"You did well getting here," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "Go tell Barnabas he can wait a quarter hour for any stragglers, but after that, he's to set sail no matter what."

"Aye, Commander," he said.

Kassandra had known the truce wouldn't hold, that it was merely an opportunity for the two sides to make plans and prepare them to play out. Kyra had spent her days on the defensive, gathering rebel families across the island and bringing them to safety here. What had Podarkes been doing?

She looked at the lieutenant. "Ready your men. I assume your orders are to hold this beach?"

"Yes." He lifted his shield.

"The Adrestia must leave here safely. You understand?"

He nodded.

"Good. I'm going to the hideout to look for Thaletas," she lied, "and I'm borrowing a horse." Thaletas was the least of her concerns. She'd not waste time readying Phobos for travel when there were horses waiting here already saddled.

Then she was swinging her leg over a chestnut gelding, and once she passed the gate, she urged him to a full gallop, pointing him straight into the teeth of whatever plans Podarkes had set into motion.

.oOo.

The gelding's flanks were coated with lather when she nudged him away from the road and into the forest, and when she reined him in at the hollow where the rebels picketed their horses, the youth who'd been tasked with watching over them materialized next to her knee. "Eagle Bearer! They're waiting for you at the hideout," he said as she dismounted.

She patted the gelding's neck and murmured to him in thanks, then handed the reins over. "Know what's going on?"

"No, just that there's trouble in the city."

Trouble again. She brooded over the word all the way to the cave. Whatever it was, it had roused the rebels to full alert. The air crackled with nervous anticipation, voices speaking a little too quickly, blades lingering a little too long against whetstones.

Kyra found her at the chamber's entrance, and she beckoned Kassandra back to the scroll-strewn table where she plotted strategy. She tapped her finger on the map. "You've heard about the city?" she asked without preamble, her voice a hard rasp that matched the chips of flint in her eyes.

"I know there's something going on, that's all."

"My scout says Podarkes closed the port this morning. All but a handful of ships have been turned away."

"With what army?" The number of Athenian soldiers left on the island should have been countable on one hand.

"His personal guard. But there are also armed fighters roaming the streets, moreso than usual."

"Misthioi?"

"Seems likely."

Kassandra crossed her arms in thought. "Paid for with whose drachmae?"

"Good question. I'm still waiting for my second and third scouts to report back." Kyra slid her finger north on the map, to a spot on the beach that matched the location of the Spartan camp. "Has the Adrestia sailed yet?"

"Barnabas should have her underway by now."

"And what of the camp?"

"Quiet when I left it, and the roads in between were clear." Kassandra glanced around. "Is Thaletas here?"

Kyra's brows lifted. "Why? He's not at the camp?"

"No. His men said he never returned last night."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping, and lowered her voice so only Kassandra could hear. "I told him. About us."

Another complication. "It would have been better if you hadn't."

"You think I don't know that?" Kyra said, her voice sharpening to a point. "He figured it out."

"Where could he have gone?"

"I have no idea." She pressed her thumb against her temple and rubbed her brow with her fingers. "He was furious when he left here, that's for damn sure. But he's smart enough to stay away from you."

"I'm not worried about him."

Kyra gave her an appraising look. "No, you wouldn't be."

"Think he might go after Podarkes?"

"Maybe. He's got a good excuse to now." She traced another circle on the map, just north of the city. "There's more. We've reports of smoke coming from here, but the orphan camp's the only thing worth checking in that forest and I can't spare any more scouts to investigate."

Kassandra's heart squeezed tight as she remembered something Barnabas had told her not long after they'd arrived on Mykonos: that Podarkes had once murdered a farmer's children and fed the bodies to pigs. Even children would not escape the long arm of his cruelty. "What would you have me do?"

Kyra blew out a frustrated breath. "I don't know," she said. "I've been saying that a lot this morning. I don't know enough to act."

The urge to pull Kyra close was almost overwhelming, but Kassandra fought it down. She'd not undermine Kyra's leadership in full view of everyone. Instead, she settled for placing her hand on top of Kyra's, wincing at the chill in the skin beneath her palm. "Waiting is an action," she said, and Kyra tensed, as if she were a started deer, caught between staying and fleeing.

Noise at the chamber's entrance sprung those muscles into motion, and Kyra stepped away from the table to meet a man running towards them. He wore a pair of daggers on his belt and carried a scroll clenched in his fist. One of her scouts.

"Kyra," he said breathlessly. "Podarkes has his thugs posting these all over the city." He handed her the scroll.

Kyra read it, her eyes flickering over the words like flames, and then she passed it to Kassandra without saying a word.

Kyra,

The orphans of Mykonos belong to me now, and one will die every day until you turn yourself in.

Podarkes

The scout shifted his gaze from Kyra to Kassandra, then back again. "Nothing good in there, I take it?"

"No," Kyra said, her expression opaque except for the muscles tightening in her jaw.

Tell Kyra that her execution will be long and painful. Kassandra crushed the papyrus in her fist and threw it onto the table.

Kyra turned to the scout. "What of the misthioi in the city?"

"Still there, mostly around the port and the agora," he said.

"How many?"

"Fifteen or so."

"That we know of." She thought for a moment. "If any of them leave the city, I want to know where they go."

"I'll need more eyes."

Kyra gazed across the chamber, watching her fighters, weighing numbers and risk. "Find someone to take with you."

He bowed his head, then left to carry out Kyra's orders.

She watched him for several moments, then gestured for Kassandra as she headed for the passageway at the back of the chamber. "Come with me," she said. "Now it's time to act."

.oOo.

Kassandra stood beside the table in the center of Kyra's bedchamber, wondering if the room had always been this cold.

"I'm going with you," Kyra was saying. To the orphan camp, where the worst case scenario was too horrific to dwell on for long.

"No, you're not," Kassandra said. "You're needed here, and everything about this smells like a trap."

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you." Kyra's lines — the cords of her neck, her crossed arms, the bend of her knee and thigh — were stretched taut, like a crane over a quarry straining under a load. She was an arm's length away, but she could have been on the other side of the island.

This was not the hideout's central chamber, busy with rebel fighters who kept their eyes and ears attuned to Kyra at all times. Kassandra took Kyra by the hand and gently led her to the bed, pulling her down next to her.

"This moment is what you've been waiting for all these years," Kassandra said. "He's within your grasp now."

"Is he? How do you know he's not already two steps ahead?"

"Because you've pushed him to the edge. He's acting out of desperation." Kassandra chased Kyra's gaze until she caught it. "Why are you doubting yourself now?"

"I've made some bad decisions."

"Like what?"

"Thaletas."

"Ahh," she said. "I'm sorry, about..."

"Don't be."

Kassandra's stomach hollowed out anyway. Kyra had said 'decisions' in the plural. Who knew the number of her regrets.

Kyra was shaking her head. "I didn't go far enough. I should have made sure the orphans were safe, like the families—"

"You can't protect everyone. And even if you had hidden the orphans, he would have gone after civilians in the city streets instead. No one's safe until you kill him."

There was a long pause. "I let myself get distracted from that."

Her words hung like the motes of frost that dusted the hills below Mount Taygetos after a winter storm, carried by air cold and sharp enough to cut the breath from one's chest.

Kassandra stood up, unable to sit with the idea that Kyra considered this — whatever this was, whatever they were — to be a mistake. "I'm going to the camp. Alone," she said, as she held up a hand to forestall Kyra's response. "It won't take long, and depending on what I find there and what your scouts report back, you'll know what to do next."

Then she turned and left the chamber, left the hideout and its nervous energy, left Kyra behind, every step putting real distance between them to match what she'd felt only moments before.

.oOo.

No birds sang in the forest around the orphan camp. No mice or hares scurried through the pine cones and leaves, no goats or deer stepped through the brush. Even the wind was subdued, and smoke hovered in a dirty grey pall between the trees.

Kassandra found Otonia's body at the edge of the camp. She lay facedown in the center of a damp and darkened patch of dirt, and the stench of death and clotted blood overpowered that of the smoke. Kassandra knelt beside her, and though she had seen countless bodies in her lifetime, she shuddered at the cold, rigid flesh in her hands as she turned Otonia over. Wounds gaped at the woman's belly and throat, her hands and forearms sliced open like a woodcutter's chopping block. Whatever awaited her in the Underworld, she'd not gone easy to meet it.

Kassandra dug a coin out of her pouch and placed it on Otonia's lips, then gently closed those wild eyes for a final time.

Smoke. Silence. Stillness. The camp's makeshift hovels were empty, and there were no other bodies, or signs of blood or struggle. Then she arrived at the open area in the center of the camp, where a massive firepit still smoldered. Nearby, a large, dark spot stained the dirt. Something had bled here, and judging by the size of the gouges leading away, that something was an adult and not a child.

She followed the scored dirt past a cluster of blackened and collapsing hovels, where the air was thick with acrid smoke and a handful of burned out torches lay discarded along the path. The rest of the camp remained untouched. The attackers had arrived before dawn, and they'd taken the children without wanton destruction. Professional work.

Misthioi work.

How many there were remained a mystery. She was no tracker; the dirt had been disturbed by too many feet for her to guess their numbers. Were the misthioi in the city the ones who'd rounded up the children? Unlikely. They would have had to have been as swift as Hermes himself to travel here, take the children, and return to the city by dawn. No, there were dozens of misthioi prowling this island, and Podarkes had used someone else's money to pay for them.

There was nothing left for her to see here. Otonia was dead, but the orphans had been taken alive — more leverage for Podarkes that way. It was up to Kyra's scouts to find them, and then Kassandra would go and kill her way through a camp full of misthioi to bring them back to safety.

But first she had to leave this place, while knowing the trap within it had yet to be sprung. The lines of its snare tightened around her with every step she took away from the camp.

She avoided the well-worn trails the orphans had cut between the trees. The breeze was picking up, obscuring the sounds of her movement, but then again, she'd also find it harder to hear as well. She drew her spear, finding comfort in it as her fingers curled around their usual places along its leather-wrapped handle.

Her breathing sped up, and her heart also, its pounding grasp pulling up a sense of ready anticipation from some deep and hidden wellspring. She stopped. Listened. Felt it, like a vibration, like a murmur of Danger! — and she spun and knocked an arrow out of the air with her spear.

Then she ran, and a second arrow streaked by as she plunged through a curtain of cedar boughs. She crashed through the undergrowth, but now there were other sounds converging upon her, snapping sticks, crunching leaves, and when the first misthios burst into her path, she ducked and let his axe swing over her head into a tangle of branches while her body pivoted up and her spear found a sliver of space between his cuirass and helm.

She felt nothing as he died, not a whisper of pleasure from her blade puncturing his throat. She could guess why, but there was only room in her thoughts for what was in front of her right now: another misthios charging out from the trees, followed by a second and then a third.

Three misthioi. At least she wasn't on open ground. But that damned archer was still somewhere behind her, and the trees wouldn't shield her forever. She'd deal with the three in front of her, and take her chances with the rest.

One carried a sword, the other a spear, and the last was a woman armed with the javelins and sling of a peltast. An odd assortment of weaponry among them, but what was an army of misthioi if not an odd assortment of unique weapons?

Spear and Javelins were at a disadvantage among the trees, their weapons hindered by the foliage around them. She stepped back and put a pair of slender tree trunks in their path, buying herself time to focus on Sword, who was curving around towards her left side, the weak side for most fighters.

He'd find out his mistake soon enough. She quickened her steps, closed the distance, raised her spear to meet his blade — and watched feathers sprout from his shoulder. He cried out in pain and dropped his sword, his free hand reaching for the arrow that impaled him, his fingers closing around two black feathers and one striped with light grey. Kassandra knew those arrows; she'd seen Kyra fell Athenian after Athenian with them.

Movement to the side. Javelins emerged from the green, her arm drawn back, ready to throw at a target behind Kassandra's line of sight.

Kassandra didn't think, but took two hard, driving steps and launched herself at the woman. Too late she saw the flash of a bronze spearpoint off to her side, and pain flared through her left thigh as she slammed her shoulder into her target. The javelin fluttered weakly into the bushes, and Kassandra drove her blade into the side of the woman's neck. They crashed to the ground in a bloody tangle.

When Kassandra rolled to her feet, the misthios who'd stabbed her was already on the ground, gurgling his final breaths around the arrow jutting from his throat. His spear lay in front of him, its blade stained red. She felt around the back of her thigh, and bit off a curse when her fingers came back wet and bloody.

Leaves rustled to her left, where she'd first encountered the swordsman. She swiveled in time to see him stumble backwards and sit against a rotting stump, and then Kyra stepped out from behind a big pine, her bow drawn and pointed at him.

Kyra's head turned, and her eyes flicked over Kassandra, up and down, with a long pause at her leg, where blood was trickling from the wound in a warm and steady flow. No pain, just a cold ache deep inside. Kassandra dug into her beltpouch for a bandage.

Kyra returned her attention to the man. "How many of you did Podarkes hire?" she asked.

He spat at her feet.

She shot an arrow into his thigh, calmly pulling another from her quiver and nocking it while he cried out in pain. "Am I going to have to shoot you again?"

He held out a hand to ward her off. "No! No. Thirty of us, maybe. I'm not sure. We all came to Delos separately."

"To do what?"

"Some to get the children, some to guard him, some to find you. He said: kill the rebel bitch. Kill the Eagle Bearer. Fifteen thousand for each, payable with proof."

Proof. Kyra's head in a bag. Hers too. Fifteen thousand drachmae was an attractive bounty to anyone, but thirty was enough to retire on in comfort. Small wonder he'd found so many misthioi on short notice. She narrowed her eyes, blood pounding in her ears as she bent down and began wrapping the bandage around her leg.

"Podarkes doesn't have that kind of drachmae," Kyra said.

"He paid me just to come here. Got it in deposit at the temple back home. And he paid the others, too. They said the Eagle Bearer fights like a lion, but you..." He bared his teeth with dark humor, his head rolling back against the stump. "You were a surprise."

"Where are the children?"

He closed his eyes and began to groan. "It hurts. Bad."

Kyra kicked the foot on his wounded leg, and his groan turned into a scream. She waited until he was finished. "Where are they?"

"The fort, the fort," he gasped. Miltiades, the fort Kyra had burned down when they'd stolen Podarkes's treasury — or what they'd thought was his treasury. How was he funding this gambit? The mystery grated against Kassandra's thoughts.

"Get off this island and you might live to withdraw your coin," Kyra said. "If I see your face again, your life is forfeit." He'd be lucky to drag himself out of this forest, but Kyra had given him a chance, small as it was.

Kyra watched Kassandra finish tying off the bandage. "Can you walk?"

Kassandra nodded, and she followed Kyra through the trees, each step aching annoyingly from knee to hip. They walked until the birds began to sing and chirp again, but as the smoke faded, it revealed no sunshine overhead, only mottled grey skies and a chill, blustery breeze.

"How bad is it?" Kyra asked after a while.

"Don't know yet. I think the bleeding's slowing." Kassandra didn't want to move the bandage to find out. "There was an archer somewhere behind me."

Kyra stopped walking. "Archers. I killed them."

"Thanks, even though I told you not to follow."

"If you think I'm going to let someone shoot you in the back—"

"And who was watching your back?" Kassandra asked. "I let myself get distracted by you."

Kyra flinched. "I suppose I deserved that," she said, but before the moment could fester, she spoke again. "Can you make it to the hideout? You can yell at me all you want there."

Kassandra didn't want to yell at Kyra, she wanted Kyra to be safe. But now wasn't the time to say it. She tightened her jaw around the words and set them aside. "I'll make it," she said. "I hardly even feel it at all."

.oOo.

She managed to reach the hill below the hideout before she started limping. Distance had turned the ache into a ragged sawblade of pain that cut into her thigh with every step. She stopped at the cave's entrance, looked at Kyra, then down at the blood-soaked bandage. "Can you retie it?" she asked. "Tighter."

Kyra knelt, and Kassandra felt her fingers begin to work the knot. "It won't be good for the wound," she said as she pulled the ends free.

"It's only for a moment." Long enough for Kassandra to cross the central chamber full of rebels without showing any weakness.

She remembered, then, the agoge: kneeling in the mud with the boys in her cohort, each of them holding a spearshaft over their heads to see who could endure the longest. The boys who gave out too soon were whipped, but the winner would get extra rations, and after months of near-starvation, that proved plenty of motivation. First her knees had ached, and then her muscles had burned with a dull smolder, then with a fierce flicker, then with a pain that swallowed the world. And the only weapons she had to fight it were her will and her breath. Breathe in. Breathe out. Will herself to do it again, and again, and again, never stopping because stopping meant failing like the boys around her, as they collapsed one by one into groaning heaps.

And their teacher had walked among them, saying, Pain is weakness leaving the body, and Pain is only a message, and Pain can be ignored, and she'd spent that agonizing day learning that everything he said was true.

She'd feasted well that night, hidden in a hollow on the hillsides high above Pitana, away from the roving packs of boys who'd try to steal her winnings from her by force.

The bandage tightened around her leg, and she hissed as the pain gnawed at her muscles. She gathered it in and exhaled it out.

Kyra winced. "I'm sorry," she said, as she knotted the ends. And then she stood, her hands covered with Kassandra's blood.

Kassandra reached for her and cupped her cheek, and they looked at each other without speaking. Kyra closed her eyes, and relaxed into the touch with a sigh. Then she opened them, reluctantly, and said, "We should get going."

Their arrival in the hideout caused heads to turn, and as Kassandra walked with Kyra across the central chamber, eyes shifted from Kyra's bloody hands to the rusty rivulets of blood coating her leg. There was no hiding her wound, but her stride was steady and her face untroubled. Let them see her brush it off as if it were nothing. Pain was just a message to be ignored.

A short while later, she lay on her side on a woolen blanket in the bathing chamber deep within the cave, watching Kyra gather lamps and a jug of water.

Then Kyra knelt beside her, frowning as she unwrapped the bloody linen from Kassandra's leg. "That's going to need stitching," she said. "It's still bleeding." She lifted the jug and sluiced water onto the wound. "Looks clean though, thank the gods."

Kassandra twisted her shoulders back to take a look. The spearpoint had entered the outside of her thigh below the hip, opening up a wound as wide as her palm and slicing deep into the muscle. She'd been lucky that it hadn't plunged in far enough to hit something important. "Time to find someone handy with a needle."

"I can do it. If you want."

"Of course I want."

Kyra's smile was faint, but her eyes softened. "Are we talking about the same thing?"

"Maybe," Kassandra said innocently. Seeing Kyra relax was a welcome distraction.

Kyra stroked her fingertips over Kassandra's skin, then climbed to her feet. "I'll be right back."

When she returned, her hands were full with a tray that held a steaming bowl of water, cup, a needle, lengths of gut thread, and a pile of linen strips.

She handed Kassandra the cup. "Drink this."

Kassandra did, and had to fight back a cough as the wine burned its way down. "It's undiluted."

"There's water in it. A few drops at least." She grinned. "Trust me, you'll feel better. And I'll feel better too if you aren't wriggling around." She peered at the needle and threaded it with ease.

"I won't be moving, wine or not," Kassandra said. But she finished the cup anyway.

"If you tell me no one feels pain in Sparta, I'm going to kick you into that stream," Kyra said, pointing the needle towards the water flowing across the far end of the room. "Speaking of, go look at it for awhile, because I don't want you staring at me while I'm doing this."

Kassandra did as she was told.

A rustle as Kyra shifted positions, then a deep, indrawn breath and a sigh. "This is going to hurt, Kassandra."

Kassandra nodded for her to do it anyway, then felt the warmth of Kyra's hands, and the first bright stab of pain, as if an ember had crackled out from a fire to land on her skin. Pain that faded quickly. Such was her gift.

Kyra worked steadily, her fingers deft and gentle, and Kassandra closed her eyes and tried to think of something nice, something like a spring meadow by a misty forest of pines, or a brand new set of armor all polished and gleaming, or Kyra naked in her arms, but all she could see was a red sky glowing over dark water, endless in every direction.

A final tug on the thread, and then Kyra was wiping her skin down with a cloth and warm water and saying, "A little higher up and it would have scarred your perfect ass."

Kassandra snorted.

"It's done."

She craned her neck over to look. One continuous line of neat stitches. "You're good with a blade and a bow. Good at spying and tracking. And now, you've a physician's skill with a needle. Is there anything you can't do?"

Kyra's flush was deep and immediate. "Cook," she said, suddenly fascinated by the stitches she'd made. "And I'm hopeless at sailing. Something about being at the mercy of the winds." Then she smiled, self-consciously. "I'm no physician, but it's easier to send people off to fight knowing I can help patch them up when — if — they come back." She picked up a clean bandage and began winding it around Kassandra's thigh. "You made it easy, though. I have to damn near knock Praxos out whenever he needs stitching."

Kassandra waited until Kyra finished tying the bandage, and then she sat up and flexed her thigh experimentally. Back to a dull ache. She could work with that.

Kyra had busied herself with cleaning up the remnants of thread and bandages, and Kassandra took the tray from her hands and pulled her closer so they sat face to face. Then she kissed Kyra, gently; leaned forward so their foreheads touched; closed her eyes and breathed in the warm scent of her and whispered, "Thank you."

"I was ready for you to yell at me."

Kassandra shook her head, smiling as their noses brushed. "Why would I?"

"Oh, I don't know... It's not like you got stabbed because you were busy saving my life or anything."

"You probably saved mine. Those archers would have been trouble."

"I'm not so sure — I just watched you swat an arrow out of the air like it was nothing."

"That... was a first." And it was: another skill Kassandra didn't know she had until she'd done it at just the right moment.

"Whatever it was, it helped me find where that archer was hiding. She just about fell out of her tree." Kyra grinned, then found Kassandra's lips and kissed her, and Kassandra marveled at the rightness of it. "I just want you to be—"

"Safe," they said at the same time.

"That might be impossible," Kyra said quietly. "What are we going to do, raise goats?" Kassandra's own words, echoed back to her from what seemed a lifetime ago.

"I'm beginning to see some appeal in that," Kassandra said. "But I don't think I'd want to do it alone."

Kyra's face lit softly, like a lamp, hopeful in the darkness, and Kassandra's heart beat once, twice, three times. Then the glow began to fade, and Kyra sat back and said, "I need to check if any scouts have returned, and you"— she pulled Kassandra's braid forward to its usual place over her shoulder —"should go to my chamber and get some rest."

The argument rose within Kassandra, growing like a breath as her mind listed off everything she had yet to do. All those misthioi to kill, all those children to rescue. But Kyra... Kyra — who sat before her with furrowed brows and shadowed eyes, who cared enough about her people to learn some of a physician's art, who was the leader of this rebellion — had asked her to rest.

She nodded and let Kyra pull her to her feet. "Will you come back, if you have a moment to spare?" Her words tumbled out in one quick, regrettable burst. "No, forget I asked, you don't—"

Kyra placed a fingertip across her lips. "I'll come back," she said. "But rest first, while I figure out our next moves." Then she kissed Kassandra like a promise, took her by the hand, and pulled her into the passageway.

What else could Kassandra do, but do what she was told?

.oOo.

Kassandra awoke to Kyra slipping into the bed beside her. "How long was I asleep?" she asked, as she opened her arm and welcomed Kyra inside.

Kyra's hair spilled across Kassandra's chest as she made herself comfortable. "A couple hours. I'm sorry I woke you."

Too long. Kassandra had been sleeping on the job. "Don't be. What did your scouts report?"

"The city's quiet, and Podarkes is still cowering in his estate. But they found the children in the fort, under misthioi guard."

"How many guards?"

"Roughly a dozen. I'm still waiting for confirmation." Silence for a moment, and then Kyra shook her head and sighed. "What happens if he starts killing them, Kassandra?"

One child for every day Kyra remained free. "He won't. I won't let it happen."

Kyra played with the fabric of Kassandra's tunic as she lost herself in thought. "I believe it," she said after a while. "Against all reason, I believe it, even if your leg's been cut open like a side of pork."

"It aches some, but it won't stop me from going to the fort tonight."

Kyra's head jerked up. "What?"

"I'm going to kill every misthios there."

"And I bet you're going to say—" She forced herself silent, and tried again. "What do you want to do? Go by yourself? Or do you want help?"

"I want you to come with me, along with however many people you'll need to wrangle all those children once I free them."

Kyra wrinkled her nose. "Playing babysitter."

"Not you. I need you to watch my back."

That made her smile. "Gladly," she said. "I'll tell everyone to make an early night of it, as we'll need all of them to help. As much as I'd like to use wagons, I'm not sure the roads are safe enough..." And as she talked her way through the strategic details, Kassandra found herself smiling at this glimpse of Kyra's mind at work.

Once the plan was settled, Kyra patted her belly and asked, "Is there anything you need before we leave tonight?"

"You, right here, like this." She grinned. "At least until duty calls you away." On the eve of battle, trying to sneak time like a love-addled youth. Surely her grandfather was shaking his head with disapproval in Elysium. But once she tightened her arms around Kyra, and felt Kyra's body settle perfectly into place against hers, Kassandra decided she didn't care.

.oOo.

Miltiades Fort had burned down to a maze of bare stone walls, scorched timbers, and ashes, but there was enough of it still standing that Podarkes's men had been able to turn part of it into a prison camp. Kyra's scouts had snuck as close as they dared to in the daylight. "Fifteen misthioi," they'd said, "with most of them hanging around the ruins near the center courtyard. We think that's where the children are."

We think. Kassandra and Kyra would have to make up a plan as they went along.

The last time they'd infiltrated the fort, they'd been forced to climb the seaward cliffs to reach it without being seen. This time, they hid in the darkness of a moonless sky cloaked with clouds, and followed the gentle slope of the road up to the northern gate, where a single misthios patrolled the elbow of the fort's inner wall.

They moved in sync with the misthios's pacing, freezing in place as the footsteps grew louder and creeping forward as they faded away, and soon Kassandra knelt at the foot of the wall and listened to the waves slamming themselves onto the nearby cliffs, driven by winds that left her skin stinging with salt. A storm blowing in.

She traded a nod with Kyra, then began climbing the wall. No pain in her thigh; just a steady ache. Good. Before they'd left the hideout, Kyra had fed her some concoction that tasted like trees, and it seemed to be doing its job.

When Kassandra reached the battlements, she stopped and waited until the footsteps passed directly above her, and then she pulled herself atop the parapet, leapt forward like a sharp gust, and her spear flashed, and the bracer on her right arm took on a dark and wet sheen.

Kyra watched Kassandra lower the body to the walkway, her eyes lingering on the dead woman's bow and helm. She plucked the pilos from the woman's head, put it upon her own, and picked up the torch that had fallen from her lifeless fingers. She'd take the place of the dead misthios, and as she walked with a slow and steady sentry's gait along the wall, she'd buy Kassandra time to assess the fort's interior.

Kassandra followed the parapet down to the courtyard. Voices skidded across the dirt. Two men, walking closer. She slid into the shadows next to a burned-out building and peered around the corner.

Someone was bound to one of the stout wooden poles the Athenians had used to practice their swordwork. They sat with their back to her; slight shoulders, skinny arms pulled tight overhead by ropes at the wrists. Kassandra had a pretty good guess who it was.

She couldn't see the prisoner's face, but as the two misthioi crouched in front of the pole, she could clearly see them right down to their bad intentions.

"Comfortable yet?" the smaller man asked. "Better than living under sticks in the forest."

Silence.

"You're lucky we didn't slice you up like that other harpy. She'll be wandering the banks of the Styx for the rest of eternity."

"Brave of you to kill an unarmed woman." The voice belonged to Melitta, as Kassandra knew it would.

"A job's a job. She got between us and our drachmae."

Kassandra closed her eyes and took a breath. How long until Melitta tried to kick one of them?

"You greedy fuckers."

The man laughed, and she did try to kick him then. The smaller one caught her legs and pinned them under his knees, while the bigger man leaned in close and wrapped a meaty hand around her throat.

"You're gonna be the first to die, you little cunt, for what you did to Panos," he said. "Tomorrow's your last day among the living."

"I hear Podarkes is a right bastard. Maybe he'll skin her alive."

"Then he won't mind if we help ourselves to some of her first." He grinned a gap-toothed grin and grabbed his crotch.

Melitta spat at him. "The Eagle Bearer is coming for you," she said, her head turning from one to the other. "And you too. You'll die by her blade."

Harsh laughter. "The Eagle Bearer is dead. Six of us went to track her down this morning. They're gonna gut her and that bitch who's causin' all the trouble around here. Gonna get paid, aren't we Gyklos?"

"Only six of you? She's not dead. You'll see. And Kyra will rescue us."

The man backhanded her, a hard sound that cracked through the wind and recoiled off the stone walls surrounding them. Kassandra's blood rose hot behind her eyes, and she pulled her spear from its sheath. Melitta was running out of time.

Up on the wall, Kyra's torch was slowly moving closer, and in a few moments, she'd be at the top of the stairs leading down to the courtyard.

Kassandra found a small clay pot and shattered it against the ground. Then she crouched in the darkness and waited.

"You hear that, Gyklos?"

"The wind, I bet. I'll take a look." Sounds then, in the silence between gusts: the creak of a swordbelt, hands slapping dirt from leather tassets, footsteps coming closer.

He rounded the corner, and she sprung upwards and drove the spear into his throat, his spine parting before her blade, and as she stared into his eyes, he lived just long enough to know who had killed him.

Movement to her right. Kyra, halfway down the steps, bow drawn, taking aim, taking the shot. A startled "Wha—" and Kassandra was moving, around the corner, spear glinting in torchlight, blood spraying into her face. Kyra stepped into her line of sight, bow drawn again, lining up another shot at some target across the courtyard. She loosed the arrow, drew another from her quiver, and shot again in the span of a few heartbeats. Smooth efficiency.

Four misthioi down, eleven to go. Kassandra dragged the big man's body around the corner and dumped him next to the first as thunder rumbled in from the sea. She pulled a dagger free from his belt, then moved back into the courtyard, where Kyra was already using her knife to cut through Melitta's bindings.

"I knew you'd come," Melitta said as Kassandra and Kyra helped her to the courtyard's edge, where she could rest in the shadows between two large crates. She stared at Kyra, one of her eyes blackened and swollen, while fresh blood ran from a split in her lip.

Kassandra breathed in, and out, not realizing she'd gone rigid with anger until Kyra placed a hand on her arm and whispered, "I know, my blood boils also." Then she turned to Melitta and asked, "Where are the rest of the children?"

"To the southwest, in the tallest building. You can't miss the cages outside," Melitta said, grimacing as she shook the blood back into her arms and hands.

"They'll be numb for a while," Kassandra said. "Think you'll be able to walk?"

"After a little bit, yeah."

She handed Melitta the dagger she'd taken from the dead misthios. "Don't try to be a hero. When you can walk, start moving south, to the collapsed wall." She looked at Kyra. "It won't be long before someone notices the missing."

"I'm going to clear the way to the south, so you and the children will have a straight shot to the exit."

"Then I'll circle around to meet you from this side. It'll give you time to work before I free the children."

"Careful, Kassandra," Melitta said. She pointed to a large building next to the tallest. "They've been using that one as a bunkhouse."

Kassandra's mind mapped out the fort: the misthioi they'd already killed, the ones she'd seen prowling the far walls. Perhaps a handful sleeping in the bunkhouse. Who knew how many lurked between here and the southern exit? And the gusting wind made every bowshot a difficult one. And then Kassandra couldn't stop herself, and her worry leaked out across her face, so obvious that it made Kyra pause.

She lifted her hand to Kassandra's cheek. "Have you forgotten? When I aim at something, I don't miss."

When the stakes were highest, there was no room for doubt. Kyra had left all of hers behind at the hideout. In its place was confidence, tricking the mind into believing she could walk through an inferno and come out unharmed.

Kassandra would not weaken Kyra's belief. She made her face smile. "No, you don't."

Kyra nodded. "Good hunting," she said, and then she disappeared into the darkness.

Melitta had been watching them silently. Kassandra met her gaze, said, "Be careful," and stared at her until she acknowledged it with a nod.

Back up the stairs to the top of the wall, past the dead archer, past the back side of the building Melitta had called the bunkhouse, and then a torch was flickering in the darkness up ahead, clinging to life as it moved through the unsettled air. She ducked behind a pile of stones, waited for the misthios who carried it to come into view, and when his back turned, she swept into him and opened his throat to the wind. Another neck shot; when surrounded by heavily armed and armored misthioi, every strike had to be a killing blow.

She drifted back to the bunkhouse as the air quivered and boomed with thunder. From a doorway, she peered into the dimly lit interior. The wooden floor had burned away, but the next level down was made of stone, most of it intact. Below that was the ground floor, where a burning brazier leaked light up through the hole in the ceiling. She dropped down a level, rolling into a quiet landing as her thigh flared with real pain for the first time since she'd arrived at the fort.

The thunder was cracking overhead at regular intervals now, and muttered curses sounded from the misthioi trying to sleep below. She chanced a quick glance over the edge of the hole in the floor, counted six of them in various states of wakefulness.

She managed to kill two before the others awakened, and then it was chaos, as she flipped the brazier over, cutting the light and scattering hot coals across the floor. She chopped one's legs out with her sword as they scrambled to arm themselves, knocked another's dagger away with her spear, then stuck its blade deep into an unarmored belly.

Something slammed against her wounded thigh, and her leg gave out as her vision went white with pain. Just a message, just a—

She moved without conscious thought, turning, seeking her attacker out, reading the angles, power gathering within her, and it surged upwards through her feet and legs as she exploded forward and drove her shoulder into his chest like a battering ram. He flew backwards out the open doorway, and then she had one misthios left to kill, and her sword swatted his blade aside and opened a path for her spear to cut his throat.

Then the skies broke open with jagged lightning, and the rain began to pour, and when she rushed outside, she found Melitta, dagger in hand, scrambling away from the misthios she'd knocked through the doorway.

Melitta's dagger held his attention, and he never even turned as Kassandra floated like a spirit through sheets of rain and speared him through the back.

"This way," Melitta said, wasting no time as she bounded up a set of steps nearby. "Kyra's killed the rest."

Kassandra followed after her, limping now in the fading rush of battle. At the top of the stairway, a body sprawled across the flagstones, pinned with arrows. A long row of cages ran the length of the wall, and then Kassandra heard the crying: lost and desolate echoes of children in despair. Her heart spasmed. She picked up the dead man's axe and hacked at the lock on the nearest cage, moving swiftly up the row while Melitta coaxed each group of children to come out and join the rest.

Then all that separated Kassandra from the children imprisoned inside the building was a heavy wooden door, and when the axe failed to make a dent in its lock, she chopped handholds into the boards on either side and tore it from its hinges.

There was a pause like a breath, and then a swarm of children burst out through the doorway, rushing to join those already crowding around Melitta on the portico.

Kassandra trailed after them, and some of them noticed her and turned and stared, which caused others to turn, and then others, a cascade of attention bearing down on her, and then all of them were frozen in place, gawping at her with terror in their faces. She was covered in blood, she realized. She could taste it every time she opened her mouth, the rain only making things worse. "Melitta, lead them," she said, suddenly weary.

Melitta's whistle was sharp, and it pierced their horror with a sound clearly familiar to all. "Let's go!" she said, and she turned and hurried down the steps.

The children followed like a school of fish, bumping and jostling up the steps and stone pathways, and Kassandra swept along with them as they streamed towards the break in the wall, and once she got there, she stopped and stood motionless, bracketed by dark and crumbling stone, covered in mud and blood and ashes, as the orphans spilled out around her, running to Kyra, running to freedom.

Part of the Elegiad. Go back to the previous story...

#kassandra #kyssandra #ac odyssey #elegiad #one year ago today i started writing a little story called 'fledgling'#and here we are: one year and 108k words later

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