car through tree

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always as bitter as it is sweet by Rona Keller
Via Flickr:
It is a rainy day and I am on my way to France for the day with Daniel and his mum. I spend the one hour car ride looking through the window, imagining what the colourful forests that we rush past look like from the inside, and longingly watching the clouds that are lingering in the valleys. While most people only have negative things to say about the weather, I would much rather be out there, walking through the woods, taking in the contrast that evolves between the autumn colours and the thick clouds and rain. But I try to embrace the moment the way it is, and so I continue looking at the beauty in the distance through the car window and appreciate my love for this weather so much.

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towards home by Rona Keller
Via Flickr:
film, mid February 2014 Three years ago tomorrow I took this through the window of a vw van on our way home from my last proper snowboarding holiday. :)

Warm Me Up ch. 36

Click Here for Ch. 1

Click Here for Ch. 35

index


Five times. The same question had come up for Will five times. First with Malcolm. Then with Cecil and a little later, his brother. Then with Paolo on the phone. And lastly, with Mom when she called him during his lunch break.

“So when do you meet his family?”

Each time the question stumped him and left him feeling a little worse.

All he knew about the di Angelo family was that his sister and his mother had passed away and since then, Nico had suffered from neglect and a growing depression. He knew Nico often argued with his dad, and that he hardly ever called him if he wasn’t figuring out something from his credit cards or rent. That was it. He had no idea why Nico was so distant or if he had any other family in New York or what his dad’s name even was.

And after telling his friends about how great his break had gone, each one made sure to ask him the dreaded question of- now what?

They never talked about meeting parents. Even before, when they first dated, it was all Will who wanted his family to meet Nico. Nico never talked about it. Not knowing why made Will feel like he didn’t know his own boyfriend. But he did, didn’t he? Didn’t he know him better than anyone?

It gnawed at him the entire day.

When he finally got home, Nico was asleep in his room. Apparently, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep seeing as his shoes were still on and he still had on his work uniform. Will smiled to himself and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

When he came back out, Nico was in his PJ’s while reading a book on the bed. “Hey, baby,” he said as Will rubbed a towel over his head. “Have you eaten?”

“No I just got back and went straight to the shower. Were you tired?”

“Apparently.” He reached forward and pulled Will close, giving him a light, gentle kiss on his lips. “How was work?”

“Busy, like always,” he answered, with a smile. “Are you hungry?” Nico shook his head. “Okay, I’m going to make myself a sandwich.” Nico nodded and turned his attention back to his book.

While Will ate, he mulled over how to ask Nico about his dad. He knew he had to be careful. He knew Nico was easily angered by the mention of his dad and he knew it was hard to calm him down afterward.

It wasn’t so much the fact that Will wanted to meet him; in fact, he was terrified of meeting Mr. di Angelo. It was more the fact that Will knew next to nothing about Nico’s life back home. He knew some stuff, some problems, some school things, some experiences. It was one of the first things they’d talked about after they met. But he didn’t know the personal things. Moments with his father, what exactly his father had done to make Nico dislike him so much, what the hell happened over Christmas break. Nico never even talked about another parental figure. Will could almost believe he’d raised himself.

That was what bothered him. Too many people had come into the hospital to cry over an almost dead father or mother, regretting that they’d never talked to them after an argument. Too many people had wailed and mourned their parents or parental figures, wishing they hadn’t spent their lives with anger. Wishing they’d had time to fix the family rivalries and grudges.

Once he was done with his sandwich, he chugged a glass of juice and walked over to the room. Nico was reading, one arm behind his head, his lip between his teeth. Without saying anything, Will clambered onto the bed and settled over Nico, their legs tangled, Will chin on Nico’s chest, hidden by his book. Almost by reflex, Nico’s hand began to weave through Will’s hair, making him close his eyes and sigh contentedly.

“Nico?” he began softly. Nico hummed. “Can I ask you something?” Nico moved his book and looked down at Will, cocking an eyebrow. “You have to promise you won’t get mad.”

“Why would I get mad?” he asked warily. He pulled himself up on his elbows and waited.

After gathering his courage, Will asked, “When will I meet your dad?”

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Where Soul Meets Body- 13

Summary: Soulmate AU. Some people went their entire lives without ever meeting their soulmates. You were one of the lucky ones, to have found and fallen in love with the owner of the initials tattooed on your hip. When your soulmate’s best friend struggles to deal with a tragedy in his own life, you discover that you might not have been as lucky as you thought.

Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader (Not MMF)

Warnings: (Series, not specifically this chapter: bad language, unprotected sex or sexual situations, drinking/alcoholism, drug use, violence, cheating, references to death, mutilation and trauma, maybe more.)

Words: 1566

Author’s Note: This chapter contains graphic depictions of death. Please use your discretion! if this at all bothers you, skipping this chapter will not effect your understanding of future chapters.

Tags at End

Master   Part 12

The snow was falling heavily, leaving the world blanketed in white despite the fact that it was late and the sun had long since gone down. The street cut through it like a snake, weaving between trees for miles. The windshield wipers were turned as high as they would go, squeaking loudly against the glass as they swept back and forth.

Inside the car, the heater was turned up high and the radio played Christmas music. Bucky’s thumbs drummed on the steering wheel to the beat, his anxiety getting the best of him. He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror for the hundredth time, taking in the bright blueness of his eyes and the laugh lines beginning to prick at the corners.

“What are you so nervous for?”

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if reluctance abides, follow your soul by Rona Keller
Via Flickr:
“You can’t go on like you’re going to start really living one day, like all this is some preamble to some great life that’s going to magically appear. I’m a firm believer that you have to create your own miracles. Don’t hold out that there’s something better waiting on the other side. It doesn’t work that.” — Perry Moore

She’s been sitting on the front porch for HOURS. Marie had told her that Logan was finally on his way, she’d received word from Daisy that he’d been found and were already en route. But that was hours ago and those hours felt like an ETERNITY. Her hands play with her phone but her eyes can’t help but drift towards the driveway, heart leaping in her chest every time she thinks she hears a car pulling up. Laura waits so long she nearly falls asleep, watching the sky go from pitch black, fading into shades of purple and blue; then finally brilliant reds, oranges and yellows as the sun finally begins to make an appearance. 

Her phone battery begins flashing red, a sign it’s on its last leg and she stands to finally go inside and plug it in. Laura doesn’t even make it to the door before she hears the sound of tires against gravel. Her heart leaps into her throat and she freezes, spying headlights and finally a car pulling through the trees.

// @threeclaws

Incase you all wanna know what my current song rage is right now. One of those songs you get stuck in your head and you hate it but you’ll put that shit on repeat and listen to it over and over and over again till you wanna put the car through a tree. 

2

With Halloween right around the corner, I got some inspiration for this Imagine from the horror movie Wrong Turn 😆


°You get captured and Daryl is desperately looking for you

Winter was fast approaching. All the trees were bare, the leaves brown and black recycling back into the earth.

A sharp chill was in the air, the wind making it feel like it was cutting at our skin.

Taking an extra bandana that I had out of my pack, I tapped Daryl’s shoulder.

Looking down at my hand, he raised a brow. I put my bandana over my nose and mouth, making it easier to deal with the wind.

He nodded, doing the same.

We were on the look out for food, but so far, we hadn’t had much luck. Most of the wildlife had either been eaten by the Walkers or was hibernating.

Moans and shuffling feet sounded in the distance. We froze, trying to figure out where they were coming from.

Daryl pointed to the east, then started off in the other direction. The deeper into the forest we got, the more creepy things became.

“Daryl?” I whispered.

“What?”

Even our hushed tones sounded as if we were screaming.

I looked around, “I think we should head back.”

He nodded, looking around as well, “I feel it too.”

Just as I turned, an arrow pierced the tree trunk, missing me by mere inches.

Daryl grabbed my hand, both of us taking off in a dead run.

We were nearly at our starting point, when my foot got stuck in a rope, jerking me by the ankle and pulling me high up into the tree.

“Daryl!” I screamed.

“Y/N!” He jumped, trying to reach my hand, but it didn’t do any good.

Laughter was heard in the distance, almost hyena like.

“Run!”

“I ain’t leavin’ you!” He said, frantically.

I sniffled, “You have no choice damnit, now run!”

An arrow sliced through my thigh making me scream out.

I tried to lift my torso up, but I just didn’t have the strength.

“I’m gonna find you. Ya hear me Y/N?!”

“Ye-yes! Now go!”

I watched as Daryl ran, the rope spinning me in a circle.

I dangled there, trying to calm myself as the people neared. The closer they got, the more I wanted to scream.

They were bloodied and severely disfigured. I’m guessing from incest.

I thought people like this only lived in horror movies.

I guess I was wrong.
°°°°°°
Daryl watched from a far, trying to stay quiet as his lips trembled.

The crack of Y/N’s body echoed across the forest as they cut the rope and watched her fall to the ground.

She laid there, unmoving. It worried Daryl to death, but he couldn’t risk giving away his position.

One grabbed the leg that didn’t have an arrow through it, dragging Y/N behind the man’s massive frame.

The laughed as they went back in the direction in which they came. One was even dancing.

Waiting until they were out of sight, Daryl ran back to where Abraham and Rick were at with the car.

Daryl broke through the tree line, gasping for breath.

“It’s colder than a witches tit out here Dixon! Are you-” Abraham’s rant came to a  hault when he relaized that Y/N wasn’t with Daryl.

“The hell happened Daryl?” Rick asked, as Daryl continued to pace.

“They… they got her.” He panted.

“Who’s got Y/N?” Rick grasped Daryl’s shoulder, trying to look him in the eyes.

Daryl nearly broke down, the vulnerability nearly over taking him.

“We heard laughin’, turned around and Y/N got strung up. Booby trapped… Arrow through her leg,” Daryl started to hyperventilate.

“Alright, alright. Just breath brother. We won’t find Y/N if you’re passed out.”

Daryl gulped down some air, blinking his eyes rapidly, “They dragged her body… we go back to the spot and hopefully they left a trail.”

Abraham was already loading down with guns and ammo.

“What’re we waiting for then? Let’s go get our little Spitfire back.” He said, cocking his gun.

Daryl and Rick doubled up with weapons as well.

Taking off in a dead run, they followed Daryl back to the spot where Y/N had been strung up.

Some blood droplets covers a few leaves, then smeared as she was dragged.

Daryl put his finger to his lips, reminding the men to be quiet as they tip toed and crisscrossed their way with the trail.

Thankfully the ones that took Y/N didn’t pick her up, leading them right to a dilapidated cabin.

Smoke swirled from the chimney, the smell of cooking flesh making the men cover their noses.

They knew that smell all too well, it taking them back to Terminus.

“This reminds me of a movie I once saw… weirdest shit ever.” Abraham said, his eyes twitching.

Daryl shook his head and pointed to an entrance where they could get in with out being seen.

“On the count, 1… 2… 3!”
°°°°°°
I ached, my joints stiff from the fall I had taken.

I had a decent goose egg on the back of my head; a result of being dragged I suppose.

Slowly, I moved my head from side to side, trying to work out the kinks. It was then I realized that my hands were tied to bed posts.

I jerked on them, but the pull only made me ache more.

I couldn’t move my right leg, part of the arrow still sticking out of it.

The front door opened, 2 of the men that brought me here, dragging another body in behind them.

My breathing sped up as I started to cry.

Watching them pick up what looked like a man, deceased, and slamming him on their table.

I watched in pure horror as they began to dismember him.

I screamed, the gag muffling it. They grinned at me, their bloody, rotten teeth making their smiles all the more sinister.

The one that danced, laughed, prancing his way over to me. He made kissy noises as he slipped a knife from his pocket.

I tried to shy away, but could only get so far away.

“No!” I screamed, my voice hoarse.

He laughed again, running the knife down my neck and to my chest.

The front door burst open, Daryl, Abraham and Rick opening fire on the three men.

The skinny one jumped on top of me after taking a bullet to the shoulder, but it didn’t seem to faze him.

The other two lay dead, blood and gore seeping from their wounds.

The one held the knife to my throat, snapping his teeth at the guys.

“Don’t you just fuckin’ die?” Abraham asked.

With out missing a beat, Daryl unloaded an arrow into his monsters skull.

“Go get Y/N. We got these two.” Rick said.

Simultaneously, shots rang out. Daryl looked over his shoulder to find that Rick and Abraham put bullets in their skulls.

Quickly Daryl got the scrawny corpse off of me, then cut my restraints.

I pulled the gag out, but didn’t have the energy to do much else.

Daryl scooped me up, wrapping me in a tight bear hug. He craddled the back of my head, helping me sit up.

“Did they…?” He trailed off, afraid to know the answer.

I buried my head deeper into his neck, holding onto his cut like it was a life line, “No,” I cried.

Daryl pulled back, framing my face with his hands. Leaning forward, he placed a series of small pecks on my dry lips, then hugged me again.

I broke down, glad that this was almost over.

“Alright love birds,” Abraham teased.

I flipped him off, making the men laugh.

“Daryl, brother, we need to get that arrow out, wrap her leg up and get the hell out of here.” Rick said, looking around the trashy living area.

Once I was semi-patched up, Daryl helped me stand, albeit wobbly.

“You alright, babe?” He asked.

Him calling me babe made my face heat up, “Um, yeah.”

“We aren’t that far from the car, so we can take turns carrying Y/N.” Rick said.

We all nodded, leaving the awful smelling place.

About a football field away, Rick looked to Abraham, “Light it up.”

Raising his rifle, he grinned, “My pleasure.”

With a loud, echoing shot, Abraham peirced the propane tank at the back of the house, making it explode.

Daryl looked down at me, tightening his arm around my waist, “Let’s get you home.”

I nodded, limping as we began to walk the trail of where I was dragged.

Terminal.

Originally posted by mickybrainz

Originally posted by samgirlsclub

REQUEST: Imagine telling Dean and Sam that you are terminally ill and they try and ask/beg cas if he can help you(reader) ending is up to you but the reader being cured would be nice. A one shot plz. Thanks if you reply! ❤️❤️ reader/dean would be awesome!❤

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 4733

 A woman’s work. By Maxwell.

Y/n parked her blue civic by the garage entrance to the bunker and sat staring forward. There wasn’t much to see from her spot but the woods above and behind the bunker. She reached over and grabbed the folder from the passenger seat and opened it on the steering wheel. She pulled out the papers and scanned words she had already read at least ten times.

She could barely recall the hour and a half drive but she could recite every word from the page in front of her. Shock had a funny way of doing that. She probably shouldn’t have driven at all and she didn’t know who she should thank for making it safely home or really just thank for not killing anyone in the process. Cas was the closest thing to a guardian angel she had and he was pretty much out of commission in that sense of the word being grounded and all.

She looked up at the woods stretching out in front of her and climbed out of the car. She wandered through the trees as her vision blurred and she moved by feel, her hands brushing the rough bark around her. She came to a stop at a small clearing she had never seen before and dropped onto a large root of a tree. “How did I get here?” The words tumbled quietly from her mouth as she glanced down at the papers still clutched in her hand.

She thought she had it beat when she chose her own life over the possibility of having children. She thought that would be the hardest decision of her life. She thought that would’ve been the hardest moments in her life but at that point she had yet to be cleared. That’s when the real nightmare reared its ugly head.

All the tests came back negative. The doctors, the nurses, her friends(the few hunters she actually told), they all congratulated her. She beat the big C! But that was only the beginning. She couldn’t get over the fear that it was just waiting, temporarily hiding in some random space in her body before it exploded again and ripped her out of whatever normal she could once again achieve. 

Sure, she got the talk and been given the pamphlet- Now that you’re a survivor! With the bright faced survivor jumping for joy on the cover.

Recognize. Accept. Reach out. Reduce stress. Talk to your doctor. And make healthy choices.

All that was well and good. It probably worked for most people but a hunter’s lifestyle isn’t exactly codependent. Well, most anyway. After three months of freaking out and regular panic attacks that made her pass out and wake up hours later dazed and confused, she called Bobby.

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TEEN WOLF SEASON 4

MAJOR SPOILER ALERT: DEREK HALE WAS NOT TORTURED BETWEEN 3B AND 4. HE WAS KEPT IN A ROOM WHERE THEY “TORTURED” HIM BY RELEASING 15 “FERAL” CATS ON HIM. UNFORTUNATELY FOR THE HUNTERS, DEREK HALE LOVES CATS AND HAS MADE FRIENDS WITH EACH AND EVERY ONE. 

AN OVERSIZED FLUFFY CAT NAMED MR. MITTENS RIDES ON HIS SHOULDERS. 

DEREK BELIEVES THAT SOFT BABYTALK ALLOWS THE CATS TO CONNECT WITH HIM MORE, SO HE MURMURS HIGH PITCH HOW PRETTY AND SPECIAL AND FLUFFY THEY ARE.

DEREK HALE IS COVERED IN SO MUCH CAT FUR THAT HE LOOKS LIKE A WERECAT HIMSELF. 

DEREK REFUSES TO LEAVE MEXICO WITHOUT ALL 15 OF HIS CATS. 

Forget

Sometimes I lay in my bed at night and think of all the times someone has told me to forgive but never forget. But in all reality how amazing would it be to be able to forget every edge cutting, skin throbbing, stomach dropping, heart breaking event thats ever happened.

How amazing would it be to forget the first time by dad told me that it was normal and it’s only because of how much he loved me.

How amazing would it be to forget every night I laid in my cold dark bedroom wishing I was
Dead to begin with.

How amazing would it be to forget all the amazing times in my life when I finally felt happy with myself only because thinking of blood dripping from the blade was better than staring at the mirror and hating what I saw.

How amazing would it be to forget all the days where rain dripped down my bedroom windows and I sat motionless on my shower floor hoping that the drops of water would wash away every tear I shed.

How amazing would it be to forget the words that lingered off my mothers lips “Maybe if I had gotten an abortion…”

How amazing would it be to forget the first time he ever told me that he would never leave but the next day left me with nothing but a tear soaked pillow and enough bags under my eyes to make it look like I had been nearly dead for days.

In reality… it’s so much harder to forgive the people that make you feel as if your entire world is crumbling; than it is to forget. And maybe thats why every time I had traced the lines of my family tree back to Alzheimers… I felt relief while everyone else had a face full of dread. I envy my Great Grandmother who developed this disease when I was only six and as sinister as that sounds…
She forgot her own daughters names but also the pain of her husbands death.

She forgot how to keep track of time, except that time is only perception.

She forgot how to feed herself, but she also forgot every struggle life had brought her.

Life brings new struggles every single day, and it with it… So many joys. How can you decide? How do you look yourself in the mirror and be okay… after spending all night sitting on the edge of your bed feeling as if the entire world is falling beneath your feet.

How do you come home from a long hell of a day, and perceive the beauty in every ounce of life?

How do you listen to your favorite song in the car and turn it down because the depth of sadness is even more than music can replace?

The truth is there is no one and nothing in this world who can drain you of every ounce of happiness and energy, more than you. Thats whats hard; perceiving that everyone comes in your life for the better… especially if that person made your life better at the time but worse in the end.

But nothing is more draining than sitting around wondering what the hell you did wrong either.

Nothing is more draining than reading the last three lines your first love ever sent you and wondering why you had to worry about your happiness before theirs for once.

I think thats what burns in my heart and tears through my mind like no other. Someone who feels so right, can be so wrong. Someone who builds you up over time, can tear you down in a few words and then leave no matter how my promises slipped past their lips.

It’s what makes trusting so hard and being cold so easy.

It’s what makes trusting so hard and being angry and belligerent so damn easy.

It’s what makes trusting so fucking hard, and being alone in my dark mind so hard and so fucking easy all at once.

Ive ran all these horrific terms of events over and over in my mind… day in and day out, and they never seem to burn the same way twice. Each time I learn something different about myself than I did the day before and everyday I change and become an entirely different person than I was a month or even a week ago.

Thats why its hard to forgive, but never forget.

Forgetting every ounce of hate I hold in my heart would be so much easier than residing in my fears of being with another because of the last.

Forgetting every lingering promise would be far easier than digging them up from the grave in my head every time someone makes a new one.

Forgetting every ache that massed in my stomach would be far easier than earning a new one every time someone decided to leave; almost like a mass of gold stars I had piled up in Kindergarten for being a star student… except my mother would never let me forget those.

Forgetting and Forgiving should not even be used in the same sentence, for those that do, do not relate to the immense pain and sadness it truly takes to even be able to want to forgive more than forget.

I get it.

I mean people make mistakes. People mess up and do wrong. But how can you let words slip past your lips that would make another want their life to be so non existent.

I guess all of these long conversations in my head is why I’ve become so happy with the person I am becoming because no matter how much one person may have hurt me… it’s always been replaced with little pieces of happiness over time.

Forgetting the scars torn down my arms is far easier especially when I wake up thinking about the warm grounds of coffee stirring and the smells of cinnamon that illuminate my car on the way to school.

Forgetting the long bitter nights of regrets is so much easier when I get to take long car rides through the trees and the smells of pine resinate in my nose.

Truth is. There’s so much fucking beauty, even in things that tend to rarely last.

There’s so much fucking beauty in the things we regret most.

There’s so much fucking beauty in the broken promises and relentless tears, because it brings us so much closer to the more amazing things in life.

So maybe, just maybe…. It’s easier to forget more than it is to forgive. Because when you forget

There’s nothing to go back to on those cold stormy nights

There’s nothing to go back to when you are sitting motionless on your shower floor

There’s nothing to go back to when you’re listening to the same old songs.

Because you wont remember.
That’s the thing about forgetting…

You don’t remember a damn thing, not even the little spites of joy and happiness.
Not the long car rides when you were a kid when you thought as though the moon was following
you.

But at least you’ll forget the tear ridden nights you had to pullover on the side of the road, right?

Not the tents you built with your friends and stayed up “late” in, although it was only really Ten.

But at least you’ll forget the first time you ever put on a smile to hide all the tears you cried before, just so people wouldn’t feel bad for you, right?

Not the warm afternoons you spent hiking around in the mountains with all your best friends from high school.

But at least you’ll forget the times you decided to fail a class or skip a class because the never ended dredge of depression ran through your mind like a never ending song, right?

Thats the thing about forgetting, you see?
You not only forget every painful memory, you forget every “best day of my life” days.
The days you feel on top of the world.
The days when you feel untouchable.
The days where nothing goes wrong.

The “perfect” days.
You forget those too.

So is forgiving really that hard? Even if it takes time. Time is just a perception.
Time spent being hurt over all of the terrible things in life, make the good times seem average.

You can’t live the same day Eighty to Ninety years in a row and call it a life, if all you do is hold on to the aching past and shitty people you’ve spent nights crying over.

And being able to forget everything, also means forgetting every amazing day you’ve spent.
You wouldn’t get to choose what you forget. And if that isn’t just about the saddest thing I’ve ever heard… I don’t know what is.

Don’t give up on yourself because others have given up on you.
And don’t dread beauty because it has caused you pain before.

The sunsets never break their promise of rising the next day and yet they are the most beautiful sights my eyes have ever gleamed for.

The stars still shine on every dark night, and their beauty amasses the sky far greater than anything I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Every dark cold tear filled night, has a better brighter smile filled day.
Beauty can be pain, but more than anything it’s a promise of something far greater to come.

If you had the chance to forgive or forget. Never forget the blessing of a life you’ve had placed in front of you. Life is all too short to be anything less than amazing.
And if it’s anything less than amazing, make the change.
Don’t live for others.
It may start off painful, but it becomes beautiful.
Build
Grow
Be Amazing

and never
I say, NEVER

Forget

- a story i never told anyone

We’re Starting At The End [ch.8]

edit | art

Summary: The end of the world happens just like it would any other day, leaving Percy stumbling on his own until he runs into Annabeth. But the world isn’t that kind, and building a new life is hard when it keeps crumbling at his fingertips every step of the way. Zombie Apocalypse AU.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, The Heroes of Olympus, The Walking Dead, or anything else you may recognize. The title is from Alone Together by Fall Out Boy.

a/n: Hey, guys! I’m super excited about this chapter, so make sure to come talk to me about it! Next week’s chapter is another one of my favorites, so if you don’t like this one too much, just sit tight! Also, make sure to go enter my fic giveaway bc you could win fic from me!

–992015–

It’s late afternoon when Reyna comes back.

Percy stayed on guard duty for the rest of the day after he finished talking to Frank earlier. He’s been trying to keep an eye out for Octavian and his buddies too, but he hasn’t seen anything. He’s not sure if he should be relieved or worried about that.

When he finally spots Reyna’s car through the trees, it feels easier to breathe, and he calls out for the guys to open up the gate.

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