American Gods Oneshots

Old Friend: Mad Sweeney - American Gods

TW/CW: Anger, mentions of violence and pollution, arguments, insults, yelling, etc.

Mad Sweeney x friend!reader, platonic.

An old nature god wants to fight but has lost their will until an old friend gives them a stern talking to.

That field had once been filled with trees and animals. Now, it was almost completely barren save for the insects and grass. Thousands of trees, thousands of them, cut to the stump and even the stumps were ripped out. Thousands of homes lost and torn away by humanity. Thousands upon thousands of animals scattered from their homes and pushed out by greed, and a lack of empathy and understanding. Thousands of innocents gone, dead, or pushed out.

That was a constant thought as you sat in the empty field.

There was once a time when humans respected the earth and its bounty. When humans gave back and treated their home with kindness and respect. Those days have long since passed. Now, they flood the oceans, rivers, lakes, and ponds with filth, and they take too much. Always acting like what they take is never enough. They tear apart the land to build or to farm, forgetting the ways of old and what would happen if they went too far. Forgetting the wildfires and the earthquakes, the tsunamis and tornados. Forgetting that the earth was very much alive and willing to destroy those who destroy them.

Maybe it was time to make them remember. To strike fear back into their hearts and make them pray again.

You stood and screamed into what was once a beautiful forest.

The humans had gone so far and done so much damage. You needed to stop them before they destroyed everything, even themselves. You needed to protect what they took advantage of. You needed to fight against them.

But, how could you? Your power was shrinking. Sure, some people fought for the earth, but none believed in you. You were only kept alive by leaching from the worship of other gods like yourself and the belief of the common human held for the planet. None was your own. None knew of you. None truly believed in you, not even by faint memory. You were worse than a forgotten god, in your book. A parasite simply living because you were too stubborn to let go. Maybe it was time to.

"You seem more pissed than usual," a familiar Irish voice said.

You looked over your shoulder to see Mad Sweeney standing there, smoking one of his disgusting cigarettes.

"Leprechaun," you growled before turning back. "Go away."

You could hear him approach, the dirt and what was left of the trees crunching beneath his feet. He stopped beside you.

"It'll grow back," he said. "With time."

Scoffing, you said, "But how much of that is left?"

'For us and for them?' you thought.

He nodded in understanding. "Not much. Not enough."

Though you fought hard, tears pricked at your eyes.

The world had once been beautiful, peaceful, but since the humans forgot, they had destroyed so much. Hell, even before they forgot, their kind seemed determined to destroy each other and what was around them.

Though you weren't around during prehistoric times, you had met other gods a long time ago who had. They had faded away many years ago, but they had passed on their stories. Stories of hunter-gatherers and small tribes. Stories of wanderers rarely passing by each other. Stories of a world so new and a people so young that they had yet to look to the stars in search of more.