#( a kind of guy who treads further away from what his father has done to him )

[diabelskoga]

What made you decide to write this muse?

⨳ — MUNDAY; ( accepting! )

*sweats*

here's my answer.

[zayneternal]

《 Halloween in June 》

summary ↠ It’s been 6 months since you and Taehyung have made it official, and it’s been nothing but sarcastic roast sessions and the occasional binge of Criminal Minds on Netflix, but for the last of those glorious months, a rather strange arrival has made himself known to the closing baristas at your place of work. Which brings you to the newly normalized routine of your closing shifts: the weird guy (who wears demon horns?) is seen stalking the outside of the shop again, Taehyung specifically asks you not to work the shift alone, and you do exactly what you always do...work the shift alone. 

genre ↠ angsty angst ooO

member ↠ kim taehyung

warnings ↠  physical violence | stalking

word count ↠ 5.1k

moodboard credit to @jiminspjm

~

"Don’t close by yourself tonight,Y/N. I mean it.”

The words of your boyfriend, Taehyung, sternly imparted by soft lips against your temple while you’d prepared to leave for work earlier today, are still ringing painfully around between your ears as you directly disobey him. You watch the new barista, whom you’ve just excused from the gruesomely slow shift, gather her belongings, clock out, and disappear into the caramelized evening with a resounding jangle of the door chimes.

Arching away the guilty prickles that slowly inch up your spine at the knowledge of what you’ve just done, you sigh inwardly, pursing your lips as you traipse back behind the bar to finish up the last of the menial cleaning tasks. Taehyung is fully aware of your nasty habit to send home the newer baristas a little early on particularly slow nights like this one which is exactly why he’s been blowing up your phone since you arrived, making calls every hour that you’ve been declining in the name of “busyness”, but really, you know that hearing his voice will only make you feel worse about sending Jess home when he specifically told you not to. If it weren’t so furiously endearing and didn’t make you feel a kind of protected that you’d never let him know you felt, you might think Taehyung was being a little more overbearing than he is. 

Despite Taehyung’s wishes, there’s really no point to having two people on the clock when there have only been three customers in the last hour--one of which being the regular that resides in the back corner working on the next great American novel that he’s had half finished for about two years now. You and Jess, even with her distracted habits and scatterbrained nature, got miles ahead on the closing list, leaving you very little to do besides counting the money drawer, cleaning out the espresso ports, and locking up at the end of the night.

You regret these bulleted thoughts when a sharp buzz begins smarting against the glass at the top of the pastry case, your phone screen lighting up to reveal a candid frame of Taehyung’s squinted smile, his name shining like a beacon across the top. Even after half a year of that picture present in your phone, the reminder that the man whose image it bears is the one calling you still sends your nerves blazing--a fact you’ve had to endure Taehyung teasing you about on numerous occasions (though he would admit to the same). 

Gripping your phone in your palm to cease the outright noise, you clench your jaw in preparation, letting your thumb hover over the green phone icon so long you have to rush to press down before the call times out.

“Hello?” you breathe into the receiver, the muffled sound of a Seinfeld rerun playing on the mounted TV above the coffee bar.

“Y/N! Hey,” Taehyung’s rasped resonance hurries back, slightly airy as if he’d been holding his breath before you answered. “How are things going? Is everything good there? I haven’t been able to get a hold of you all night.”

You sigh again, running a hand through the haphazardness of your hair as you lean against the pastry case, holding the phone closer to your ear. “I know, I’m sorry. Me and Jess were swamped trying to get ahead on the cleaning while we had time.” There is only a small bit of solace you find knowing it’s more of an omission than a lie. 

“Swamped?” he repeats, voice almost unreadable. “Huh, well that’s nice. Every shift I worked last week totaled maybe 10 customers.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, shifting your weight. “Yeah, business isn’t the same in the summer,” you sigh, deftly avoiding the truth of your customer count. 

“Quite the bummer,” Taehyung speaks in that way he does when he’s waiting for a laugh. One you can’t help but give if for no other reason than how stupid it was. 

“Lame,” you chuckle, finding the feeling of the smile tugging against your lips rejuvenating. 

“How’s Jess doing?” Taehyung’s next question sends your grin running back to its hiding place with its tail between its legs. You’d have to tread carefully.

“She’s...” you begin, trying your hardest to sound casual. “Ya know, good.” 

Nailed it.

“Good? Hasn’t run the espresso machine without the espresso yet? Dropped any open milk jugs?” 

You’re trying to read his tone, but he sounds naive to your “omissions” so far. “Nope, no messes, broken machinery, or third degree burns to speak of yet.”

He huffs idly. “It’s only a matter of time. I’ll make sure to warn her about the christening the espresso machine likes to give newcomers when I work with her next week.”

You manage to quirk a grin as you settle into the conversation. “I’m sure she’d be grateful to hear that from you.” It was no secret that Jess had a certain affinity for Tae and his boyish charm, always dropping soapy dishes and fumbling with change when he would walk into the shop. It was somewhat endearing. 

“Hmm,” he hums idly before saying something that shoots an arrow into your stomach. “Why don’t you just give her the phone for a sec, and I’ll tell her now? No time like the present.” 

Your muscles tense and eyes close, slowly recognizing the familiar color to his voice. He also dons it when he’s asking if you ate the leftovers that no one else but you and he have access to. 

“How’d you know?” you breathe, defeated, lifting a hand to your face.  

“You didn’t brag about how much more tip money you’re bringing home with all this ‘business’ you have,” he responds casually, and you can’t tell if you’re in trouble yet or not. “You never miss a chance to be the breadwinner.” 

You chuckle lightly, cautiously, breath tense for the moments that follow. “I thought you might be...ya know, mad if I told you I was closing alone.” 

“Again,” he corrects. “Closing alone again.”

“Again...” you amend, feeling like a child on the other side of a pointed finger. You might’ve been upset, annoyed, that Taehyung is parenting you if you hadn’t been the instigator, knowing exactly how to avoid his gentle wrath and still choosing to step in its way. 

You hear an exasperated sigh seep through the phone, and you can almost see him, eyes closed, locks shaking back and forth, nose bridge pinched between his pointer and thumb. “Y/N,” he breathes. “Are you actively trying to make my hair fall out? Cause it sure feels that way. You can’t see, but I’m holding a few shiny, very luxuriously conditioned locks in my hand right now. They should not be in my hand right now.” 

You know he’s scolding you, but his personality washes through the receiver and makes you smile--something you try to hide in your tone lest he turn into more of your father. “I promise your balding is the farthest thing from a priority, Tae.” 

“Then why, why, do you insist on blatantly ignoring me every single time?” In the background of the call, you hear the soft click of a door being shut. The jangle of keys.   

“Taehyung, please tell me you are not leaving the apartment right now.” You say instead of answering him, your own eyes closing. 

“My hair is falling out, and you’re upset that I’m coming to see you? Your priorities really are out of whack.” 

You sigh and laugh in tandem, your neck almost hurting as it tries to decide which side to commit to. Annoyed or humored. “Of course I’m not upset that you’re coming to see me. I just wish it wasn’t because you think I can’t handle myself by myself.” You begin idly tracing the frame of the register next to you, twisting the key in the cash drawer back and forth. 

Another creak as Taehyung pushes through the front door of your apartment building, the sounds of passing cars whooshing through the background as he begins the trek further downtown. “Y/N, I promise I believe you are fully capable of handling yourself. It’s just with everything that’s been happening there lately...that maniac...” He trails off, breath tight. “Just humor me. I’m protective.”

You breathe slowly before answering with half a mind to roll your eyes at the fact that you almost did want to humor him. The maverick inside you fights lazily with your secret desire to be sheltered. Instead of giving in outright, you glance at the clock and make your escape for the time being with a curt, “I’ve gotta lock up. See you soon.” 

You end the call and replace your phone on the counter, moving to inform the great American author in the back that it was closing time. He gathers his things quickly, looking slightly deflated at whatever progress he had or hadn’t made during his time here, and disappears into the blackening night. With an empty store and slight prickle of annoyance rumbling in your stomach, you flip the locks closed on the front door, swiftly turn up the chairs onto the tables, and clean the final espresso port before clocking out. 

Taehyung still isn’t here, but you aren’t surprised. Your apartment is a twenty minute walk from the shop and you’ve spent all of ten finishing up the quick close. 

You gather your things in your arms and stand by the front window, taking only a moment to decide that you will meet Taehyung halfway home instead of sitting like a duck in the dark and empty space, knowing that your maverick is winning the fight now and you want to leave if for no other reason than to show Taehyung you really could handle yourself by yourself. 

You take a step, backing away from the window with pursed lips. It isn’t even the length of an inhale after you turn your back, however, before a loud and raucous slam resounds throughout the shop. You freeze mid-step, shoulders tensing immediately and eyes wide as you slowly shift your gaze behind you, already knowing what you will find when it arrives. 

There he is. 

Party City devil horns pointed high. Halloween makeup smudged and unnerving across his wild face. Palms planted flat and tense against the thick glass of the window. 

No one knows where he came from or why, only that a few weeks ago he made a claim on main street. A demon in human form hellbent on terrorizing the small businesses littering the downtown area in the dead of night. Somehow he was in perfect sync with the closing schedules, choosing the nights when you least expected him to appear without a warning to make himself very known and frighten the living fuck out of the witnesses. 

He hasn’t hurt anyone...yet...mostly because everyone so far has been smart enough to stay out of his way. Make it home before he showed up, if you were lucky, or stay in a pair or group which he tended to keep his distance from for whatever reason. Everyone so far except for you. Of course. 

Realizing you are still frozen and freaked, you turn your eyes to the basement door that you had been heading for in the first place--a less conspicuous way to exit and the way you had been hoping to take to avoid him altogether. He hasn’t shown up at all the last few closes you’ve done alone, and most of his appearances--besides the first time almost a month ago--you’ve only heard about from coworkers. Maybe that’s why the healthy dose of fear you are supposed to have was nowhere to be found tonight. 

It sure as hell is here now. Too little too late. 

All of a second has passed since you glanced away, but with a swift look back, your eyes come up empty of all things frightening which somehow frightens you all the more. Your breath quickens. Your saliva dries, sticking as you attempt to swallow without success.

“Ok, Y/N,” you self soothe, the weak sound you hear squeak from you not in the least bit convincing. “No need to freak out. You’re gonna be just fine. Composure. Composure.” 

You swallow thickly once more and stand up straight. Maybe he’s gone? Maybe your presence is of no interest to him tonight? You try to assure yourself of these things as you slide to the basement door, glancing over your shoulder every other beat because of course you aren’t convinced. Is the basement the safest way? What if he’s waiting down there? What if that’s what he wants you think so you’ll walk right out the front door instead? Is it better to just stay put? Can he get inside?

Deciding it’s less likely he knows about the back exit and feeling too frazzled to stay, you hurry on. The sweat lacing your palm as it clamps around the brass door handle is thick, sliding somewhat as you turn and tug it open, closing it just as swiftly behind you. In the dimly light stairwell, you feel only slightly consoled.

It’s with haste now that you descend the rickety old wood and stumble across the dank room towards the hidden alley door, grappling with the key in your purse all the while in preparation for your speedy retreat. Taehyung has to be close -- and then a spike of fear because Taehyung is outside with him. 

The basement door is opened and then closed, ushering you outside within the same moment, and as you shove the key into the lock, you fumble with your phone in your free hand, your nerves making it doubly hard to unlock it and redial your most recent contact. 

“Hey, I’m almost there,” he answers immediately, sounding annoyingly clueless to the danger he so adamantly warned against. You feel almost hypocritical as you interrupt his, “Just another minute or-”

“Tae, turn around, please,” you hiss intensely, your eyes wild around you as you creep down the narrow alleyway, not sure if you should feel protected or trapped yet.

“Turn around? But I’m almost--” He pauses, confused. “Y/N what’s going on? Did you leave? Please tell me you’re still inside.” 

“I-I-” you stutter, questioning if you want to explain your reasoning in this current moment. You are almost to the end of the ally and then it would be brightly lit streets and witnesses. Almost there.

“I’ll defend myself later,” you urge, realizing you are whispering. “Just turn around, please. I’ll meet you at the apartment.” You shake your head at yourself, upset for a random moment that you are so affected just by the sight of this human apparition. He hasn’t hurt anyone, you remind yourself. 

And then suddenly you are on the ground, your phone scattering a few feet away from you. The muffled electronic questions of Taehyung are thin and blurry in the background. You realize your vision is swimming and lift a hand to your forehead where it comes away red and sticky, shining in your fuzzy view. The asphalt had hit you hard. Confusion quickly gives way to concern and then terror as you roll to your side, head pounding. The first clear thing that enters your vision is the double point of a pair of horns leering over you. 

You think you scream, but can’t be sure. The sound melts into the night, as if it never happened, leaving you even more petrified than you thought possible. Voiceless.

You feel so helpless, bleary and bleeding, underneath the shadow of this terror, his face illuminated in the most horrifying of ways as the moonlight stripes over his dark and dreary makeup, lighting up half of his sickeningly joyed smile with flashes of silver fire. 

Another silent scream.

He’s standing over your lower half, nothing in his hands to indicate he’d been the one to cause your stumble. Maybe one clumsy moment of fear has fated you to this. No one to blame but yourself. 

He leans down, and your heart stops for a moment making breathing impossible. You try to discern if the liquid you feel on your cheek is a stream of thick tears or the blood from your forehead streaking down. Neither bring you any form of comfort or distraction from the hell spawn closing in on you. He speaks no words with the part of his sinister smile, just a ravenous snarl followed by a hyena-like chortle that tells you, “I’m having fun. Are you?”

You feel yourself attempt to move away from him, your palms scratching desperately against the black pavement beneath you, cutting and clawing your skin with a welcome pain that tries to convince you you have a chance. Only you don’t and he is on top of you again, this time reaching out, his grin deepening as his ink stained hands spread around your forearm, tugging hard.

You yelp, audibly this time, gathering just enough breath to plead, “No,” as the grimy feeling of his fingers spreads along your arm like poison. This only seems to please him further as he grips harder, pain igniting beneath his touch. 

And in that moment, a moment that feels like eternity in slow motion, you want nothing more than to apologize to Taehyung. To tell him he was right and you’re sorry and you miss him and need him and want to be protected and will tell your maverick to move out for good if it means this second of pure terror will end. You close your eyes, certain now that the liquid on your cheeks is both blood and tears. Please let it end. 

And it does.

The pain blooming along your arm subsides. The searing presence of him overtop of you is removed. You can breathe. You can move. You grasp at your chest, sucking in air like you’ve never drank a breath in your life. It’s only after multiple deep gulps of oxygen that the blurry noise in the background races to the forefront, clear and alarming.

“You fucking bastard! You sick fuck, don’t touch her!” Taehyung’s voice echos sharp and furious in your ears, and your eyes fly open to drink in the scene. He’s grappling with the demon, rolling him over as the devil fights with the growls and snarls of a wild animal, biting and gnashing his fangless teeth at Taehyung’s face before his hands are pinned on either side of him. The control only lasts a moment, though, as Tae’s anger gets the best of him and he releases one of his hands to throw a few heavy fisted punches against his target’s jaw. 

The horned man’s head thrashes to the side with the force of the impact, and you know you should feel assuaged somewhat by the karma being dealt, but the way the man laughs through the pain puts your nerves on ice. You scrabble away in a moment of clarity and urgency towards your discarded phone, a slim crack racing along the screen. You fumble once more to unlock the device.

“911, what’s your emergency?” A calm voice questions in response to your dial, the juxtaposition almost enraging against the scene you’re helplessly witnessing. 

“My boyfriend!” you cry. “He’s--the other man jumped me and--please help, I don’t know how long he can keep him down!” 

“Please slow down, ma’am,” the voice urges, only a fraction more concerned than before. You have to remind yourself that it’s their job to stay calm when the other end of their line is anything but. “Where are you now?”

“Alley!” you answer desperately. “The alley behind the shops on main street! Please hurry!”

In front of you, where your eyes are still glued, Taehyung is flung to the side with a zealous convulsion from the demon beneath him. He smacks into the brick wall next to their writhing tussle with an oof before the man is clambering onto him like a beast, his face bruised and bloodied by Taehyung’s fists. Vengeful.

A shriek rips through you and the phone drops to the ground just as the 911 operator is mollifying, “Help is on the--”

“Taehyung!” you wrack, your head empty of anything but the sight of him bracing futilely against the claws the man is using to slash across Taehyung’s forearms and face. He is trying with everything in him to buck the devil from his chest, but he has him pinned good and shows no signs of relenting, practically foaming at the mouth with unfettered hate. And that face...the evil. The rage. 

You don’t think. You don’t question your next move. You’re suddenly casting yourself from where you’d been crumpled on the asphalt, a shout that could’ve come from anyone but you tearing through your throat as you launch across the space between you and your attacker. Your hands feel the tattered fabric of the demon’s jacket before your brain catches up to you, nails digging into the flesh beneath it and you yank. 

A confused grunt escapes who is now your victim as he topples backwards and away from Taehyung. “Get OFF!” you seethe, furious, terrified, and aflame with adrenaline as you tug with the strength of ten of you and slam the unaware man into the pavement. You give him no moment of respite before you’re the one in control, pinning his arms down with the weight of your knees and laying into him with all you’ve got. Your nails are just as effective as his were against Tae, if not more-so. Blood is slick in the gashes you leave against his cheeks, neck, collarbones, blazing red against his ruined makeup. The facade of the maniac is crumbling beneath you.

You see the wild anger give way to what resembles fear as he slowly realizes the mistake he has made. At least he’s sane enough for that.

Deep moans of anguish and pleading are flowing from him now, still no words, but you don’t need them to know you’re inflicting pain. Well deserved. 

“Y/N! Y/N that’s enough!” Taehyung’s voice seeps into your red rage fueled tunnel, a light at the end that you’re not ready to reach. You feel the weight of his arms wrap themselves around your midsection, pulling with a force you can’t combat before you’re unfastened from the devil. He remains grounded. He doesn’t move to run or escape, instead rolling over with another moan as he covers his bleeding face with his hands. One of his horns has detached beside him. In the near distance, you register the sound of sirens. 

“You got him, Y/N, you got him,” Tae hushes into your ear, still holding you tight against him. It’s not until he speaks that you realize you are still struggling to free yourself and return to your karmic retribution. “Relax, Y/N, we’re ok. You got him.”

It’s then that you hear yourself crying, your cheeks now completely doused in the sweat and tears of the passed moment. You’re shaking against Tae’s chest, and as he finally sets your feet back on the ground, you crumple in his arms, all the adrenaline rushing out of you quicker than you can adjust to. He catches you deftly, holding you upright as he turns you into him, hiding your face in the joint of his neck and shoulder as he sways back and forth, ushering a calming pattern against your back. 

“The cops are here, Y/N,” he whispers, alerting you to the red and blue lights swimming a few yards away and the sound of car doors popping open. Questions shout their way down the alley towards you, but you don’t hear anything but noise. You breathe Taehyung’s scent in for all it’s worth. 

“He’s right here, officer!” Tae speaks for you both, calling towards the coming aid. The sound of clattering footsteps rushes past you, and you hear the echoed moans of the man become more desperate as he’s lifted off the ground and cuffed with a comforting click before the horrid sound disappears away down the alley and into the back of a car. It’s not until that car has pulled away and sped off, your nightmare with it, that Taehyung gently pulls back, his hands coming to cup your trembling jaw. He lowers himself to look into your eyes with intense concern, searching you. The red and blue lights of the remaining cop car flash methodically behind him, and you can feel the lingering presence of another officer nearby, waiting to question you, you’re certain.

“You okay?” Tae softens. His thumb brushes your cheek.

“I will be,” you assure him with some semblance of a smile. “You?” With a sense of normalcy returning to you, you bring your own hand to ghost against the scratch marks left in the perfect skin of his face. Taehyung tries not to flinch against the sting. You’re only pacified knowing you did much worse. “Look what he did to you...”

He mirrors your soft smile of reassurance. “I’ll be okay. It beats going bald.”

You’re surprised that you laugh, given the circumstances, but you’re grateful for it. The sound feels like a weight rolling away. You lift your hand further to tousle his very thick and secure locks. Taehyung sighs against your fingers. “Can we go home now?”

____________

“Ow.”

“Oh, sorry,” you smile apologetically as you dab the cotton ball softer against Taehyung’s skin. His eyes are closed, palms resting against your thighs as you both sit criss-cross-apple-sauce on the floor of your apartment bathroom. You’ve been tending to each other’s wounds for the past half hour after arriving home, but with every pat pat pat of rubbing alcohol and Neosporin across marred skin, you’re hit with a wash of guilt that began bubbling in your stomach the moment that cop car drove away.

You clear your throat and the lump in it. “Um, Tae...thanks again for dealing with the police afterwards.” You’ve thanked him five times already, but you can’t seem to satiate the guilty conscience living it up in your gut. “I don’t think I would’ve spoken coherently if I’d tried.”

He doesn’t call you out on the fifth repeat. He just sighs softly and smiles against your gentle cotton touch. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’m just glad you’re ok. Seeing you in that alley when I got there...” He trails and his smile tenses before he shakes it off, not wanting to add anymore weight to the night. “Well...it could’ve been a lot worse.” His hand tightens around the flesh of your thigh.

Your careful trail across his face slows to a stop. Taehyung opens his eyes to question you only to find your gaze fixed over a spot on the floor, eyes clouded.

“Y/N...” he whispers, reaching for your face.

“I’m sorry,” you rush, pushing his hand away. He stares at you, confused, hand frozen in midair. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” The lump in your throat won’t be swallowed away this time.

“Y/N, don’t--”

“No, Taehyung, it is,” You urge, your voice tightening as the prickle of heat ignites behind your eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong.” The warmth wells the more you try to contain it behind the brazen tone of your voice. “If I had just fucking listened to you, we wouldn’t be sitting here on the floor wiping blood off of each other’s faces. If I wasn’t so goddamn stubborn, I wouldn’t have had to cut into a lunatic in a middle of an alleyway. Tell me that’s not my fault, Taehyung.” There is no hope of hiding the tears now as they bubble and boil over and down your cheeks, stinging all over again. You’ve had enough crying for a lifetime tonight. “You can’t. You can’t tell me it’s not my fault because every time I look at your face--” You clasp his jaw between shaking hands. “--I know it is.” 

You bite your trembling lower lip and let go of him, pressing the heel of your palms against your burning eyes. You want to hide, disappear, get swallowed up in this moment, almost ashamed to be sitting in front of him so freely. You want him to at least get mad at you. You deserve something. 

Instead of any of that, though, you feel the warm and soothing trace of Taehyung’s fingers bloom around your wrists, peeling them away with gentle force until your rash red face, swollen with cuts and tears and splotches, is revealed to him. He takes both of your hands into one of his, his free palm coming to wipe away the waterfall streaming across your skin, and you can do nothing but squeeze the warmth of him like any second it’s going to disappear. Maybe that’s exactly what you deserve after what you caused tonight. The thought of it shreds you.

“Y/N,” he calls, and you meet his eyes for the first time, a fresh flow of waterworks exploding when you see the utterly pure sincerity he wears in his gaze. “Listen to me very carefully.” He leans forward, tugging you along until your foreheads rest gently together, his hand trailing to the back of your neck where he holds you secure. It’s still not close enough. 

“Was a single decision tonight made with any intention of purposefully putting someone in danger?” 

The question gives you pause. You weren’t expecting it. “...No.”

“Then nothing--not a single thing--that happened to either of us was anyone’s fault. Do you hear me? You did nothing wrong.” His voice is like honey in your ears, his soft conviction so mesmerizing, you want to believe him. “Even had I known what would happen...I would’ve done it all over again for you. Never question that.”

You cry softly as you stare at him, utterly speechless as to how you deserved someone so full of kindness and goodwill. You don’t know if you’ll ever figure that one out.

He tips his head forward and attaches his lips to yours in a slow kiss, the feeling of it sending a wave of total calm and reassurance through you. When he pulls away, he pulls you with him until you are cradled against his chest, his legs walled around your form as you rock back and forth on the bathroom floor, surrounded by discarded cotton and open tubes of Neosporin.

“I love you,” you hear yourself whisper against him.

A content sigh from above you precedes lingering lips atop your head. “I love you,” he agrees. “More than you know.”

Through the fading sting of tears and freshly healing wounds, you really do believe him. And no amount of worry-fueled balding or strong-willed stubbornness will change that.

___________

ok, before you say, “devil horned man? really?” which many of you MAY HAVE already done I PROMISE YOU this plot was inspired by very true events at a very real job i had a while back, LEGIT someone like this exists, and i just ran with what I was given, ok thank yew.

[lucacangettathisass]

JOUST (Chapter One)

SUMMARY: Following a mix up that would only be funny if it were happening to an anime character, my Japanese host family turns out to have only a son, who I will also be rooming with at his school, Shiratorizawa Academy. Christ knows how it could get any worse from here.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: None

TAGLIST:@youidiot91 @meemsx @squishyrobbie @total-insanity @oneshotofvodkaa @moons-and-stars-and-shit

NOTES: I really want to thank everyone who has shown an interest in this fic, it really means a lot! I can’t gaurantee an upload schedule as things are weird rn, but I’ll try to upload as often as possible. So, without further ado, here it is!

And if you want to be added to the taglist just lmk!

CHAPTER ONE

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,

Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven,

Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine,

Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,

And recks not his own rede.

-William Shakespeare

And the rest is rust and stardust

-Vladimir Nabokov

The oddness of the situation truly didn’t come to me until after I had landed in Sendai Airport, which of the two airports I have been to, was definitely the bigger and nicer one.

After flying for essentially twenty four hours, I was eager to stretch my legs, and I had to hold back my groans of satisfaction as I was finally able to move my body outside of the confined space of the plane. I navigated myself through the crowd, taking great pains to avoid colliding with anyone, and apologising if I accidentally got too close, until I came across an empty patch of floor beside a wall, where I proceeded to stand. At that moment in time, anything seemed better than sitting.

Alone and away from the crowd, I dug into the Kuromi sports bag on my left shoulder, resting my My Melody carry-on against the wall, pulling out the folder I had made that contained the info on my host family, reading through it for the umpteenth time.

The Goshiki family, consisting of the father, Hideaki, his wife, Mayumi, and their son, Tsutomu.

That was the odd thing that had suddenly struck me. There was no mention of a daughter of any kind, or any other female relative that stayed with them. I had been too full of excitement and nerves to really think about it before, but now that I was, it did seem odd.

‘I wonder why a family with only a son would host someone from an all girls school.’ I tried to think of an explanation, but my brain was so fried from the flight that I could barely muster up anything. So I shrugged, put the file back, and went on to find the luggage check in.

When I arrived at the luggage carousel, I was surprised to see a family of three there, holding up a sign. A sudden, strong feeling came over me, and I looked up at their sign. It read Welcome Cody Smith, in tall, proud kanji. This was them, it had to be. So, seeing little other options, I approached them.

“H-Hello?” My voice cracked a little due to nerves, and I quickly cleared my throat, scrambling to remember the Japanese I had learned. “I’m Cody.” I bowed quickly, and as deeply as I could manage without completely falling over. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

There was a pause, and I felt my face heat up in the heavy silence. I slowly stood back up, looking over their confused faces.

“I-I’m sorry.” A middle aged man, who I assumed to be Mr Goshiki, said, rather awkwardly. “We...well we were expecting a uh…boy.”

I blinked, trying to quickly translate what he had said in my head, and process it. “Oh.” I said, because I really didn’t know what else to say.

“Hideaki!” His wife scolded, clearly unimpressed with her husband’s bluntness. She turned to me and smiled kindly, although even I couldn’t miss her blush. “It isn’t your fault honey.” She assured me. “Tomu, say hello.”

I turned my attention to the son, who struck me as having intense Rock Lee energy, and not just because of the bowl cut. He looked serious and determined, with a furrowed brow, like he was about to go into battle or something. He bowed, just like I had, but with...conviction, somehow, if that were possible. “I am Tsutomu Goshiki!” He declared, so loudly that a few people were staring. “And I am honoured to be your host brother!”

Startled, and even more sure of the Rock Lee comparison, I could only stare down at him, a boy who I knew was the same age as me, yet seemed to want to carry himself with the dignity and seriousness of a man his father’s age. “Oh. Um. Hi.” I only barely managed to get the word out, a little bewildered at what I considered to be an over the top greeting.

He remained in his stance, upper body perfectly parallel to the ground, as I continued to stare. I saw him lift his head a little, and his eyelids flicker. I tilted my head to the side a little so I could actually see him without my chest obstructing my view. We maintained eye contact for a few seconds, before he stood up right again, practically snapping his body into position with such speed and force that I actually felt a slight breeze. “Let me help with your luggage!” He said as a declaration again, as if this was something deadly serious. “Which bags are yours?”

“Uh, they haven’t shown up yet.” I nervously glanced around, noting all the looks from strangers.

“Calm down now Tomu.” Mrs Goshiki said, with a mother’s fondness, clearly used to this. “I’m sure Cody is tired.”

“Coco.”

“Hm?” Mrs Goshiki turned to me.

I started to blush again, and I looked down shyly. “I uh...I would prefer it if you called me Coco.”

“Oh. Alright then honey, sure thing.”

I looked back up at her and smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” I looked back at the luggage carousel, watching as one bag after another made its way around on the conveyor belt, waiting for mine.

“There you are.”

I walked up to the conveyor belt, hand outstretched to grab the bright pink, Hello Kitty suitcase.

“Let me!”

Before I could react, Tsutomu suddenly appeared, yanking the suitcases. “Is the other Hello Kitty one yours too?”

“Uh, yeah, but I can-”

Thunk!

I stood there, somewhat awkwardly, as Tsutomu stood there, one of my suitcases in each hand, looking so serious that it made the situation comical. “Allow me!” He said, already walking on ahead. “As your host brother, it’s my job to help you settle in and make things easier for you.”

Deciding that it would be more trouble than it was really worth to argue, I quietly followed, trying to ignore all the curious eyes. ‘I wonder if he would’ve done that if I was a boy.’

-

During the car ride back to the Goshiki residence, I listened as Tsutomu told me all about Shiratorizawa Academy. Since I was arriving only a month after the beginning of the school year, I hadn’t missed much, but I would still need to work hard to catch up.

(“It’s a really tough school.” He had said. “But you wouldn’t be sent here if you weren’t able to hack it, so I believe in you.”

“Thanks.”)

But he spent most of his time talking about the volleyball team.

Being utterly ignorant to all things volleyball, I had a hard time keeping up. I got that he was an outside hitter-whatever that meant-and that the Shiratorizawa team was considered to be the best in the whole Miyagi Prefecture. And, what’s more, their captain and ace player, Wakatoshi Ushijima, was considered the number one ace among high school volleyball players, and was even selected for Japan’s under 19 Youth World Championship team. Despite my lack of knowledge, even I was able to tell that that was a big deal.

“And this year we’re going to go to nationals and win!” Tsutomu said excitedly, and with such conviction that I wouldn’t be surprised if that alone won them first place. “Hey! You should see us practice!”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know.” I said, honestly surprised by the suggestion. “I don’t really know anything about volleyball so....”

“You can still just watch.” He insisted. “And I can introduce you to the guys so you’ll know more people.”

“Tomu…”

Tsutomu turned to face his mother, who was looking over her shoulder at us. Evidently, the use of the nickname was enough to get her point across.

I looked out the window, resting my forehead against the glass, watching a city I had only seen in pictures and video go by me.

-

I woke with a start, eyes wide, looking around so quickly that I banged my head. “Ow.” I looked up, and saw that I had hit the glass of the car window.

“Good timing.” Mr Goshiki said, the first words I heard him say since the airport. “We’re here.”

I blinked and nodded, stifling a yawn as I got out of the car. I went to the back to get my luggage, but Tsutomu already had it covered, taking my suitcases up to the impressively sized house. While I was reeling from his speed, Mr and Mrs Goshiki took my sports bag and carry-on respectively, leaving me standing in their driveway.

I had no other choice but to quietly follow them, up the path, and to the door, taking my shoes off immediately upon entering.

“You’ll mostly be staying in Shiratorizawa’s dorms.” Mrs Goshiki said. “But during the holidays and, if you like, the weekends, you’ll be here with us.” She went up the stairs, followed by her husband and son so, naturally, I went with them.

“This will be your room when you’re here.” She said, opening the door to a spacious bedroom. It was sparsely furnished, with only a bed, a small bedside table, a bookcase, and a reasonably sized vanity. “You can decorate it however you want.”

“Thank you.” I somehow managed to find my voice again. I turned to face the entire family and bowed again, a little deeper this time, hoping it would be enough. “You’re all very kind.”

Mr Goshiki chuckled. “It’s fine, you don’t need to bow.”

I straightened up, mumbling a small and embarrassed “Sorry.”

“We’ll leave you to get unpacked.” Mrs Goshiki said. “You’ve got your own bathroom through there,” she pointed to a door on the left wall, “and Tomu’s room is right across the hall. Hide and I will be down the hall on the right. You get yourself settled in while I prep dinner.” She gave me one last comforting smile and with that, the family filed out, Tsutomu closing the door behind him.

I let out a deep sigh, looking around the room, and back down at my bags.

‘Better not unpack too much if I’ll be staying in a dorm.’

-

About two hours later, there was a knock at the door, making me pause in my arranging of the closet in my new room. “Yes?”

“It’s Tsutomu.” His voice was a little muffled by the door, but I could definitely tell it was him. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Alright, be right down.” I got up and went over to the door, only to find Tsutomu was still there when I opened it.

“Did you need help with anything?”

“Oh, ah, no. I’m all good.”

Tsutomu looked like he was about to press the issue, but he seemed to think better of it, and simply went on ahead down the stairs. “My mum made ramen, don’t worry it’s vegan like you put on the form.”

“Cool.” I blushed, remembering filling out that field and now wondering why I did so, when I knew that it would no doubt be a hassle.

I followed Tsutomu into the dinning room, and the two of us joined his parents at the table, big bowls of still warm ramen in front of us. After a quick prayer we tucked in. I had no idea if Mrs Goshiki had any experience with vegan food before, but if she hadn’t, that made the ramen all the more impressive.

The noodles weren’t too firm, nor was the broth too rich. The mushrooms were perfectly tender, and there was just the right amount of vegetables and tofu to balance everything out. I already knew that I was going to find out Mrs Goshiki’s recipe and learn how to make it.

“So what made you decide to do this exchange?”

I looked up at Mr Goshiki and shrugged, swallowing down the noodles and mushrooms. “Just felt like something different I guess.” I idly swirled the broth around. “And, I mean, I’m interested in Japan, so I figured I would take my chance.”

“Really? Why Japan?”

‘Don’t say anime and look like a weeb don’t say anime and look like weeb don’t say anime and look like a weeb I swear to fuck if you do that shit I am shutting this whole operation down.’

“Mostly how different it is from New Zealand.” I said. “An entirely different culture in an entirely different continent, I don’t know, just the usual curiosity I guess.”

‘You live another day.’

-

Dinner passed with regular small talk, with the Goshiki family getting to know more about me and vice versa. I offered to help Mrs Goshiki with the dishes, but she insisted I ‘go right to bed and get some much needed rest’.

The only problem was, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night, I was still wide awake.

‘I guess this is jet lag.’

I stared up at the ceiling, waiting for my eyelids to droop, and for sleep to take me, but alas, it proved to be as evasive as ever.

Sighing in defeat, I got out of bed, went over to the bookshelf, and got back under the blankets with My Melody, and began to re-read Hamlet, again.

[myfriendscallmecoelophysis]

fragile tiny shells

Dedicated to @transvav and @the-nerf-house 

Its the atla AU fic where I hurt Jordan a bunch based on one day where @fanwp and I went absolutely feral on the poor guy. TW: blood, violence, character death, general sadness/angst

When he’d left his forest to join these people, Jordan had not expected to make connections with them. If he’d had his way, he would have stayed in his tree and away from the rest of the world. He’d done his time as a hero, let someone else save the day this time. But then he’d seen the Avatar, the uncertainty in her eyes at what the future would hold, not to mention Ianite’s less than subtle pushing that he helped them. There were other waterbenders, the Avatar and her motley crew could go bother one of them. He'd left his home with them nonetheless and against all odds, had started to view them as friends. They still knew next to nothing about him, they’d only just found out he was a waterbender, but he did have to admit it was nice to have others around for a change.

He and Sonja were resting during one of their lessons. The pond near their camp was hidden under a shaded canopy of trees, a small creek feeding it from some mountain spring far away. There was a cave system beneath them, carved out by years of the pond dripping down through the earth. It was today’s lesson, for Sonja to begin feeling the water all around her and learn to discern between different sources. She’d had some success so far, she knew the pond was losing water somewhere but hadn’t been able to fully pinpoint it yet. 

“One of the monks at the temple where Wag and I grew up used to say that by tracing the wind we could trace the past. The theoretical stuff was never my strong suit in the way it was Wag’s but I guess this is kind of the same idea isn’t it?” 

“In a way I suppose. There are some who say that water has memories,” he paused, hesitating in saying more. If he wasn’t careful he would tread dangerously close to words that he’d heard in his village. Before she could press for more he pulled a rivulet of water from the pond, swirling it around his fingers. “If you can learn to follow its path you can find every place it’s ever been. This pond for example. It’s been here for so long that none of the water that originally contained within it is left, it’s been refilled over and over by the creek which in turn is filled by a stream that flowed from a spring in the mountains fed from melting ice each season. We’ve talked about how there is water in everything and no matter what it is, it originated somewhere.” 

“A body changes water into blood but that does not erase its memory of being water. Control that water and you control the blood and the body.” A voice sneered in his memories. 

But then another spoke over it “I can pull the blood to places where the body needs more healing from within. I guess there is some benefit to be had from this ‘skill’.” Martha had always been the more positive one of the two of them but he’d always been grateful to her for that. 

“Jordan?” Sonja’s voice drew him out of his reverie. 

“Sorry, what was I saying?”

~

They finish for the day, rejoining the group back at camp. The sound of raucous laughter greets them as they emerge from the trees. A fire has been made, fish already roasting on sticks around it. 

“And Jeriah was all ‘You guys really thought Tom had a chance at being Mianite’s Champion? He’s been nothing but chaotic his whole life!’” Tucker was saying, a hand on his stomach as he laughed. 

“Sonja! Tell us a funny Wag story from when you were kids!” Tom demanded when he spotted them coming into the clearing. 

“Uh when we were learning how to use our gliders he ran into-”

“You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone!” Wag interrupted. 

“THE SIDE OF THE-” Sonja started yelling, a smile on her face as Wag tried to tackle her. She ran from him and in moments they were air-stepping higher and higher, the rest of the group laughing right along with them. 

Ianite brushed up against his ankles to get his attention, meowing up at him. “You look upset.” She said as he gently lifted her to his shoulder. 

He feigned a yawn, muttering “I'm fine” behind his hand. Her ears flicked back in displeasure but didn’t push him. He took a seat on one of the rock seats Tom or Tucker had made, a fairly standard practice at this point. None of them really wanted to deal with chopping down trees every time they had a fire so it just made more sense for one of the earthbenders to make small pillar seats for everyone. 

“What about you Jordan? What’s your family like?” Dec asked, rotating the fish skewers he could reach. 

He felt Ianite stiffen, her claws lightly pricking into his shoulders, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him of her presence past the weight of her around his neck. The thing was, part of him did want to tell them. The part of him that ached to get the weight of everything he’d endured off of his chest. Talking to Ianite about it was one thing, she had been with him through most of his life and knew about the parts she’d not been with him for. It was another to talk to people he hardly knew even if he had been travelling with them for several weeks now. 

He cleared his throat and calmly said “They’re gone now. It’s just me and My Lady.” It was handy that they all thought Ianite’s name was Lady, it made addressing her properly easier to explain. For his part, Dec looked abashed at having brought it up. 

“Jordan, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, you didn’t know. No harm done.” 

It took a few minutes for the awkward tension to dissipate but eventually it did, talk turning back to stories from the other’s childhoods. They all wisely refrained from asking Jordan about his own. 

The moon was high above when they decided to call it a night, Tucker pulling the pillars back into the ground while Karl bolstered the fire to make sure it would burn well into the night and keep them warm. Sometimes, when they were close to towns or in dangerous territory someone would stay up and keep watch but tonight, this far from any sign of civilization it was decided that it was unnecessary. Nevertheless Jordan climbed into a large tree on the edge of the clearing, bending and shaping the branches and leaves to make himself a platform to sleep on. He preferred it this way, a better vantage point and easily defensible if something were to happen. Plus, should the absolute worse happen, he could disappear into the forest further. 

“Goodnight My Champion” Ianite purred as she settled in next to his head, the tip of her tail barely brushing his hair. They’d come to the understanding long ago that they both slept better with the other next to them but Jordan tossed and turned too much in the night for her to sleep directly on him. 

“Goodnight Milady.” 

~

He could hear shouting as he came to awareness. Screams of terror and desperate yelling. He was at home, not the treehouse in the forest, but his real home. Instantly, Jordan realized that this was a nightmare. A nightmare he’d had dozens if not hundreds of times since it had happened. He knew how it went and that he had no choice but to just let it play out unless Ianite sensed his distress and woke him up. 

He leapt from his bed and threw on his coat and gloves. The village was already in flames, the buildings not made of stone or wood crumbling and melted. 

“Captain!” One of his Lieutenants called out, running over. 

“What’s going on?” Jordan asked. Inherently he knew but the dream would run its course no matter how much he tried to stop or change it. He was a viewer in his own body. 

“Firebenders sir, at least three ships from the Fire Nation, with more on the horizon. The breached the walls somehow just as the sun was rising. We’ve managed to slow the assault but sir, we’re outnumbered.” His face was pleading, waiting for answers, waiting for hope, waiting for Jordan to say that they had a chance. There was nothing he could say. Their village was not a large one, not like the Water Tribe Capital at the North Pole or even the City in the far South. They were a small village dedicated to Lady Ianite and her Temple. 

“Continue your efforts, round up who you can and focus on keeping the invaders away from the Temple. Surely they’re after Lady Ianite. And if anyone figures out just who they are, tell me immediately. This is unlike followers of Dianite to just openly attack.” The Lieutenant bowed quickly and the two separated to run in opposite directions. 

Jordan encountered half a dozen firebenders on his way to the Temple. Each moment spent defending himself or his people was a moment that Ianite could be in danger. He loathed taking lives of any kind, he couldn’t even bring himself to butcher a fish, not after what had happened. Instead he left a trail of frozen, struggling enemies buried up to their necks in ice. They could melt their way out of course but it would take time and the cold would sap their strength. 

He passed Sola’s home, affording a quick peek inside to ensure that she had things under control and that all the children whose guardians were fighting were taking cover, including his own little brother. She reacted the moment he entered, nearly spearing him through the eye with an icicle. They’d trained her well enough at least. “Jordan, thank Ianite you’re here! Jerry ran away, he said something about wanting to help you-” He tuned out for a moment with a frustrated breath. Why couldn’t his little brother ever do as he was told? Now was not the time to try and play hero. 

“I’ll find him, stay here. Keep yourself and the rest of the kids safe.” He ordered, running back out the door, absently putting up a wall of ice to provide another layer of protection. 

As he ran through the village towards the Temple he kept his eyes open for a flash of green. Jerry was just about the only person in the entire village that wore colors besides shades of blue, white or grey and he always without fail wore the green scarf that their Father had sent him years ago. Their Father had been a travelling merchant who’d fallen in love with their Mother when he’d come to the village. He’d visited periodically until Mother had died but hadn’t said a word to either Jordan or Jerry since. Presumably he was still alive somewhere but Jordan hardly cared, he’d only seen his Father a handful of times in his life and never for very long. Jerry, the hopeless optimist he was, was determined that their Father would come back for them one day. Jordan had long since given up on the same idea. 

He saw the smoke rising from the Temple before he got there, sliding to a stop on the hard packed snow. His guards were doing their job valiantly, holding in formation at the top of the steps while their enemy shot blast after blast of fire at them and the Temple itself. Pulling the water from a nearby channel, Jordan rushed in, riding the wave he’d made as it surged towards the firebenders. The new angle caught them off guard and all five were swept in the current, frozen within it as Jordan leapt away. 

“Lady Ianite?” He questioned, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Inside sir! Kana and Tarno are with her now.” 

“I’ll take her out of the village, Taika, Sani, guard my back, the rest of you go help where you can. And if anyone happens to see Jerry, take him back to Sola for Ianite’s sake.” Where normally there would be snickers at their Captain’s brothers antics, today there were only crisp nods of understanding. This was no time for jokes.

Forming a trident was as easy as breathing, the ice cool and smooth beneath his glove. He truly didn’t need it but he felt better with a physical weapon in his hand, something concrete that he could use faster than he could gesture for water. In the end he would always rely on water though. 

“It is everywhere dear boy. There is nowhere in this world that a waterbender is truly unarmed.” A voice hissed in his mind. Jordan tightened his grip on the trident, tight enough that fractures cracked along the shaft. No. He had grown past those lessons. Lady Ianite had taught him and helped him heal from his past. He didn’t belong to them. Not anymore. 

He took a calming breath, willing his heartbeat to slow. He needed to stay focused. If they wanted any chance at surviving this battle, he needed to keep a steady head. 

Ianite looked up when he entered her chamber. “Captain, something is very wrong.” She had a faraway look in her eyes, one he’d come to recognize as her sight.  There was more at play here than a simple raid. He really should have expected as much. His life was never simple. 

“Milady we have to go. It’s not safe in the village.” He reached to take her hand when an explosion erupted from behind them. Jordan threw up a shield to block him and Ianite from the worst of it, but still the force flung them both into the ground. When he opened his eyes, it was horribly, gut-wrenchingly bright in what was normally a darkened room. The Temple was in ruin around them, the last vestiges of the structure collapsing into piles of snow and ice. Jordan heard Ianite give a whimper of anguish but he didn’t look, his own gaze focused on the massive chunk of ice that now lay where his guards had been standing. He’d lost warriors before, both before Ianite had found him and after she’d made him Captain of her guard. That didn’t mean it hurt any less. 

“Ianite, we have to leave, now.” The words felt heavy in his throat and turning away took actual effort. He reached out a hand to help her to her feet and allowed just the slightest hint of his old teachings to slip into him now, just enough to let him get through this day without his emotions taking control. 

What lay outside the Temple ruins was not a much better sight. Massive fireballs rained from the sky, exploding on impact to send clouds of snow rubble into the air. They had already been fighting a losing battle but he’d managed to force what little hope he could, now, looking at the remains of the village, even that hope was beginning to bleed from him. That was when his eyes fell upon the figure standing at the base of the stairs.

They were clothed in shades of black and red, hair a deep rippling shade of burgundy. Their lips were curled into a sadistic grin, chaos alight in their eyes. Twin daggers of flame extended from each of their closed fists, the fire growing to a pair of crackling swords as they locked eyes with Jordan. 

“So the Champion finally emerges.” They called up to him. “A shame it took me destroying your entire village to draw you out of hiding. But I do as My Lord bids.” and it's the pointed way the title is spoken that makes Jordans veins turn to ice. He let go of Ianite's hand and stepped forward, his challengers grin growing even wider. “Nothing to say Champion? I expected more from you after what I've heard of your abilities.” 

Jordan shed his coat and gloves, letting his trident melt back to water and fall to the ground. “Stay here.” He ordered Ianite softly. She was a goddess yes, but he wanted her nowhere near this lunatic that had razed his home. She nodded, respecting him and his judgement well enough to listen. 

He descended the stairs slowly, flexing fingers and muscles to warm them up. He was the best bender in the village, that was a fact he was confident about, but if his suspicions were correct, the person before him had been trained by or at least served the same Master that had trained Jordan. There was no telling what they might be capable of. 

As he reached the ground, he fell easily into his bending stance, hands loosely raised in front of him and feet planted, ready to react at a moment's notice. The fire in his foe’s hands crackled then extinguished as they got into their own bending stance. 

“I look forward to returning your corpse to My Lord.” They sneered, teeth bared. 

Jordan did not speak, he wouldn’t waste breath rising to taunts. Instead he simply raised a questioning eyebrow, sliding his foot just so as his opponent lunged.

~

He didn’t relive the fight. He didn't remember each and every move he made like he did the words he said that day. Lady Ianite however, did. He watched himself through her eyes as she had shown him the very first time he’d asked to see. It had helped with his trauma somewhat at first but as he began to watch the fight over and over in his mind, it only made things worse. He saw each and every little mistake he’d made; every missed strike, every misplaced foot or wrist, every hit he took. Jordan considered this fight to be one of the most formative and important of his life and he’d lost. He wondered constantly that if he hadn’t made those mistakes, if he had dodged one fire blast or another or landed a well placed water whip or ice blade, could the outcome had been changed?

Jordan watched himself stumble backwards, feet slipping on ice he was normally so sure footed on, chest heaving from exertion and burns marring his exposed skin. He still had scars from one or two of the larger ones that couldn’t be fully healed. His opponent stalked forward, expression manic and unhinged. “I expected better from you!” They taunted, releasing a gout of flame from their fist that Jordan barely blocked. “The great Champion of Ianite, fallen before me!” another blast punctuated the statement and oh how Jordan remembered this moment. 

He could feel the heat on his face, the steam in the air, the ice beneath him. He saw the flash of green across the courtyard but could not bring himself to shout a warning. He watched as a snowball as big as his head crashed into the side of his opponent's face and heard Jerry’s cry of “Leave my brother alone!” The Darkness’ minion turned with a snarl and then the world was moving in slow motion. 

He was yelling, trying to scramble to his feet. Ianite was shouting from above him. And Jerry’s eyes were wide, terrified, reflecting the light of the fire. Jordan raised a hand desperately, all thought of forms or proper training gone, relying on instinct alone. He can feel the water in Jerry’s blood at the tip of his fingers, fear striking him instantly at the recognition. He hesitates, just a fraction of a moment but it’s long enough. 

The world blurs, tears, steam, smoke, fire and white hot burning fury unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He can’t breath, can’t even scream. He’s not in his body anymore, instead watching again through Ianite’s eyes and thoughts. She’s crying, her own vision hazy. She watches him get to his feet and raise his arms, expression as hard as the crystalline ice that had once stood around them. 

She had never shown him the entirety of this memory out of care for his psyche, only glimpses. She had seen the hurricane that rampaged through the remains of the village, indiscriminate and all consuming. She had watched the ice stain with streaks of red and smudges of ash, the last foundations of the buildings crumbling back to the snow they were made from. All she can do is go to Jerry and shield him from the storm. She is a goddess but she is no bender. There is so little she herself can do for the child. She cradled him in her arms, blocking him from the biting wind and stinging fragments of ice. 

Ianite cries. She cries for her village. She cries for her people. She cries for the child in her arms. She cries for her Champion. She cries because of how utterly useless she feels at this moment. The storm rages until there is nothing left of the village and softly Ianite calls to her Champion. She knows he will not hear her spoken voice, lost in his agony as he is, instead she calls gently into his mind, coaxing him back from the precipice of self destruction. 

“My Champion, your brother needs you. Please.” Slowly, the storm begins to subside, the ice turning to rain and then to gentle snowfall. Jordan is in the center of the village, knelt, unmoving in the rubble. “Jordan.” She called to him with as much care as she could. He was so very fragile in the moment, as he had been when they had first met. She would go to him if she could, but she was afraid that even the slightest movement would further hinder Jerry’s dwindling chances of survival. 

Jordan looked towards her, expression blank and eyes glassy. Shakily he got to his feet and began to walk towards her. She could see the weakness in him with every step and her hopes for Jerry grew smaller and smaller. Jordan may be capable of healing, but he was never the best at it and in this state she was afraid he may not have the strength. He crumpled to the ground before her, reaching out to take his brother in his own arms and hold him close. 

He’s in his own mind once more, looking down at Jerry’s body. They’re both covered in blood and the smell of it makes Jordan’s stomach roil. The green scarf is hardly more than a charred scrap of fabric around Jerry’s neck, his clothes and hair scorched. Jordan raised a hand, ignoring the way it shook and his body protested, pulling forth as much water as he could muster. He guided it to pool around the worst of Jerry’s burns, trying to focus on healing, on aligning the energy paths and chakras. But as he felt Jerry’s heartbeat slow further and further, it became all he could focus on. 

“No.” He breathed, anger bubbling back to life at his inability. He reached for the blood, forcing it to circulate. Forcing it to keep his heart beating and lungs moving. He could not, would not, let Jerry die. Not now. Not because of this. Every muscle in Jordan’s body was quivering from exertion but still he continued. He could hear the echo of the Darknesses' praise in his mind, every word about bloodbending and how it was the ultimate skill, how he was to be a Champion for his mastery of it. 

“Then why isn’t it working?!” He demanded, shouting back at the honeyed praise. Because he knew that it wasn’t. Jerry wasn’t healing, his body was being forced to remain alive by the push and pull of his blood throughout it. 

It was Ianite who finally stopped him, wrapping a delicate, bloodstained hand around his wrist. He looked up to glare at her but his anger melted to misery in an instant at the sight of her tear streaked face. She let go of his wrist to wrap her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” Jordan whispered. “I’m so sorry.” It’s not just an apology to Ianite; but an apology to Jerry, to the village, to the mother he’d lost long ago and the father he’d lost even further back. It’s an apology to everyone he’d ever known that had suffered because of him or the Darkness or the ties that had bound them together against his will. It won’t do anything to bring anyone back, nothing would. 

“I’m here Jordan. You’re not alone. Not anymore.” Ianite says in his mind and then he’s waking up.

~

Ianite is curled on his chest, head tucked under his chin. She’s purring so loud it's a wonder she hasn't woken him sooner. 

“I’m here My Champion. You’re not alone. Never again.”

[ohshcscenerios]

Haruhi falling to her knees bc some bullies from another school accost/shove her on her way home one day, but the other hosts are to the rescue!

Thank you for such an interesting idea! I apologize for the rushed action but I didn’t want this story to run too long. I was dangerously close to 2k words so I needed to stop! 

If you have a request for a one-shot idea please send me a host’s name + a reason why they would fall to their knees to my Ask Inbox! Thank you!

In Haruhi’s second year of Ouran Academy much has changed for the Host Club; Takashi and Mitsukuni graduated at top of their class with respectable honors that would serve them well in Ouran University, Kyoya was officially announced as an official candidate for the Ootori Group’s heir by his father, and Haruhi’s true gender was revealed though that didn’t stop her from participating in host activities. Yes, Haruhi’s second year came with much change and although change is considered good – even necessary – for one’s personal growth and maturity, one cannot also run from change’s inevitable consequences.

At the end of Haruhi’s first year the host club sent a group email to their guests revealing that Haruhi-kun was actually Haruhi-san. As expected, it created an avalanche of reactions. Most were accepting but a rare few felt cheated and lied to. Haruhi allowed them to feel that way, understanding that for a whole year she did lie to her peers and classmates, and so she chose not to explain herself. If they wanted to be angry then she’ll let them be angry. Thankfully, no one as acted out on their anger towards Haruhi, to the Host Club’s relief, but that is until today.

Haruhi shifted her school satchel further up her shoulder as she made her daily tread to the train station a few blocks from Ouran Academy. It was a routine Haruhi could recite from memory and soon even the Host Club could write down her walking directions without looking at a map. When she was first outed to the school a host member walked her home each day to ensure her protection from bullies. After a month of no trouble they didn’t feel the need to walk her home anymore and allowed Haruhi her space again.

Today felt like every other day as she neared a street corner. Just one more block and she’ll be on the train towards home.

“Fujioka!” A voice called from behind her.

Haruhi turned around to see three of her classmates trailing her. She recognized their faces for they were the rare few who didn’t appreciate the Host Club’s dishonesty. Why the three unfathomably rich students would be walking with her instead of riding in their family’s limousines was beyond her.

“Yuri-san, Soma-san, Moria-san,” Haruhi address the students, “can I help you?”

Yuri stepped forward from the group with a deepening scowl contorting her glossed lips, “No, I’m afraid you can’t help us. We don’t want your help, not after you’ve betrayed your loyal customers.”

Haruhi sighed. She was afraid this wasn’t a chance meeting and now her fears were confirmed. They wanted to confront her. She straightened her posture and faced the three students. So be it.

“I apologize for keeping my gender a secret. We have already explained why such actions were made -.”

“We don’t care about a stupid vase,” Moria barked, “any person in your class could have paid for that vase tenfold. It was absolutely pointless to resort to what you did.”

Haruhi casually nodded, accepting her comment but not agreeing at the same time. “I’m sorry you feel that way but what is done is done. We can’t reverse time, we can only move forward. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Haruhi gave a slight bow and turned around to continue her journey home.

She didn’t make a few steps before she felt a fist punch her right shoulder blade. Haruhi stumbled forward but caught herself in time. She turned around to confront to attacker when another fist landed on her jaw. This punch had much more bite and the pain stung, traveling down her neck and making her eyes water. Someone managed to get behind her and they kicked her knees in, forcing her to fall onto her knees.

“Now that you’re kneeling before us, apologize correctly! Beg for our forgiveness!” Soma sneered, bending forward to cast her shadow across Haruhi.

Haruhi rubbed her tender jaw and stared at the three students now standing above her, baffled that the young heiresses could turn so violent. From what she understood about the elite, the women were taught to be graceful, kind, and endearing. Violence was left to designated men who are equipped with skills and social groundings. She has never seen an Ouran lady resort to violence. At most, they would cry and run into a man’s arm begging for his protection. Haruhi didn’t know if she should be concerned for her own safety or impressed that these young women broke through that stereotype.

Soma pushed Haruhi’s head back with a flick of her hand, making her rock back on her knees.

“Start begging you commoner trash.” Soma demanded.

Yuri slapped Haruhi upside the head, “Come one baka, beg!”

“My apologies for interrupting but she will not beg for you today.” A deep masculine voice spoke from behind Haruhi. Her eyes grew wide in recognition as she realized who was standing behind her. His voice alone revealed himself.

“Ootori?” Moria stammered. Having her favorite host witness her less than appealing behavior instantly embarrassed her. “This is not what you think… Haruhi just…”

“Do you think were stupid?” Another voice questioned, sound much more annoyed. Hikaru emerged from the neighboring alleyway along with Kaoru, Tamaki, and Mitsukuni.

“You have a lot of nerve to hit Haruhi like that.” Kaoru growled.

Yuri fixed her posture and flashed the Host Club a mischievous glint in her eyes, “And what exactly are you going to do about it? If you would dare hit a woman you can bet your name will be slandered within hours.”

Kyoya fixed his glasses, “Don’t worry, we wouldn’t stoop so low to your level. We have other ways to take care of you.”

Haruhi felt a strong pair of arms lift her from the ground and realized it was Takashi who saved her from the cold concrete. He carried her as he joined the others and gently brushed his fingers over her swollen jaw. When she winced away at the pain Takashi gave an angry pointed glare at the three students, making them shy away from the normally stoic host.

“This was a bad idea Yuri-san…” Soma whispered to her friend.

“Shut up, this piece of filth needs to pay for what she’s done. She lied to us for an entire year!” Yuri barked back.

“You are only this angry because you developed a crush on Haruhi,” Tamaki explained rather calmly, “We understand your anger but you cannot direct it at Haruhi. We were the ones who forced her to join the Host Club. If you want to beat someone up, let that person be me.”

Tamaki walked forward with his arms stretch out to his sides, palms open and facing up. Haruhi watched him with a strange look of confusion because essentially he was giving himself up in her place.

“We couldn’t hit you Tamaki-kun…” Moria confessed. “We admire you too much. We could never hurt you.”

“But I can,” Yuri said, “If you’re going to take a beating for that rat then so be it!”

Yuri plunged forward with a fist drawn back, winding up for a delicious punch to the cheek. She was about to reach Tamaki when he threw his arms around Yuri and spun her around, lifting her feet off the ground and throwing her off her punch.

“What are you doing? Let me go!” She cried as she wriggled beneath his tight hold.

“I will, once the police arrive.” Tamaki said.

When Moria and Soma heard that the police were called they looked at each other with wide eyes and turned to run off. Before they could make it a few feet Mitsukuni landed in front of them, forcing them to skid to a stop.

“I’m afraid you ladies aren’t going anywhere just yet.” He said with a devious smile.

Kyoya approached Haruhi who was still cradled in Takashi’s arms with a cellphone already pulled to his ear. “I am calling for a doctor to meet us at your apartment to check the injuries. Do not object for I won’t listen. Your jawline is already beginning to bruise.” He studied her face with critical eyes and began speaking to someone on the phone.

“How did you guys get here so quickly?” Haruhi asked her friends.

Hikaru shrugged, “We noticed a note falling out of your locker this morning. We were going to give it to you when we realized it was a threat. So instead we followed you home today, just in case.”

“We’re glad we did.” Takashi admitted.

Haruhi smiled, though it hurt to stretch her bruised cheek, and felt eternally grateful to have the friends she did.

There was much change in her second year and the final change of all was that she gained a second family.

[corpse--diem]

History Repeats | Arthur & Erin

With: @arthurjdrake

After being practically stuck inside for nearly a month with her undead father, going anywhere else was like a breath of fresh air. So when the idea struck Erin to get caught up on some work at Coffee Plus struck her, she was out of the door faster than she could put her jacket on. From the second she walked in the door, she was reminded instantly of her previous trip here. Her and Regan had sat right to her left. The woman who’d yelled at them not far from it. A small smile tugged at her lips, before the overwhelming panic that came with the rest of that stroll down memory lane. Confident that there was no hypnotist in the area, her eyes rolling to herself at the thought, she grabbed a coffee and settled in with her tablet. She was getting behind on her obituaries--another fun detail most people weren’t aware she took care of. Knee-deep in some family history and photos, her eyes happened to glance up above her screen, then back down again. Then, instantly, right back up. Was she seeing this right? She sat back, taking a good, hard look at the picture of the man on her screen--a man who had died years ago. Then, back to the man she had just seen step into the cafe. It was completely unintentional, and totally rude, but she couldn’t stop staring at this man.

It had been at least a couple of lifetimes since Arthur had been in White Crest - always ending up wherever Mercy happened to travel that coincided with his rebirth cycle. His death the last time in this town had been unfounded and quite mundane - gunned down after accidentally stumbling in on an altercation between two feuding families. He’d started a life here and made a couple of friends. The ending really was quite unmemorable. A shotgun blast to the abdomen had put an unfortunate end to what had been a relatively mediocre existence. Thankfully, some things about it had changed. Admittedly while getting his afternoon cup of coffee at what was fast becoming a frequent haunt for him, he wasn’t expecting to feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the indication that someone was staring at him quite intently. The sensation caused him to bristle a little, before a marginal turn of his head opened his peripheral just enough to spot the responsible party. His brow furrowed for a moment at the look of shock on her features, glancing over his other shoulder to check if it was not him, but someone else she was staring at… But there was only empty space beyond. Glancing back once more to the women he fixed her with an uncertain and slightly questioning look not recognizing her from anywhere in particular. Taking the time to order and collect his drink, he circled back, approaching her table until his six foot three frame loomed beside it. “Apologies ma’am… I couldn’t help but… uh… notice… You were giving me a strange look… If I’ve done… something to offend you” not that he was sure what he could’ve done to a stranger but in a town like this who knew “please know that I’m quite apologetic for... whatever seems to be the issue.”

Erin knew she should have stopped staring at some point--the man clearly noticed. But she couldn’t help herself. Couldn’t help glancing back up and then down at the photo, again and again. The photo that was far older than what this man could have possibly been. Oh shit--she must have been staring too long, and too hard because after a few moments, he was heading her way. And he was apologizing to her? She pulled her tablet closer to her, shaking her head. “No, God, I’m sorry. Please don’t apologize.” She bit her lip, trying to decide if she was going to share or not. Was that weird? Ah, hell. “I just--” she paused again, fighting with herself until she eventually just gave in. “You don’t happen to know the Crane’s in town, do you? Or are you related to them?” She stood from her spot slowly, tablet in hand, as she zoomed in on the somewhat blurry black and white photo. But now that she held the photo up so he could see. “You see why I was staring now though, right?”

Arthur couldn’t help but blink as after his apology for whatever he’d done to give offence to make this woman stare at him as though he’d grown another head, she offered up one of her own. To say he was perplexed was perhaps a bit of an understatement. To steady any growing nerves, Arthur took a slow sip of his coffee, the familiar bitter taste washing away some of his anxiety over this stranger somehow seeming to think him familiar. “Okay… then, forgive me but I’ve got to ask… Why were you staring at me as if I’ve got another head.” But his answer was provided a few moments later. Crane. A name that had served its purpose when he’d been passing through town before an… untimely demise. “Um… Ha, funny question that but… Yes, I think I have some familial connections back to this town… I think my great great grandfather used to live around these parts...” he smiled though it dimmed fractionally as she turned around her tablet revealing a photograph of him… 1800s style portraiture. Black and white. Distinctly recognisable of a slightly younger self if you looked close enough. “Oh… wow, that’s… Damn that’s pretty scary… He looks…” Arthur swallowed but let very real shock simply play into the reaction he gave as he gestured for a moment before taking the tablet and peering at it with interest. “Where’d you find this?”

Erin was relieved at how calm this man was, despite the abrupt prying and staring. A real killer first introduction, she thought as she watched him nervously sip his coffee. But it was too late to go back now, wasn’t it? But the familial link made sense, and she was growing more curious and more excited about the discovery. “Great-great grandfather? No way,” she grinned, unabashedly scanning over his features as he studied the photo himself. “You guys could be straight up dopplegangers,” she said, watching the shock settle over his face. This was as weird as it was cool, but his curiosity ignited further intrigue on her part. “I’m a funeral director and--” Oh. She paused, realizing that she might have actually overstepped this time. Especially if this was his family. She cleared her throat, trying to carry on without skipping too much of a beat. “And I was given a whole digitized album of family pictures to include for the memorial. I was just going through them, writing the obituary, when your face--or, your grandfather’s face--popped up.”

Thankfully several lifetimes could serve when it came to being shocked, though this had certainly not been how he’d seen his day unfolding. His fingers tightened a fraction on the mug, though his smile remained amicable if a little disturbed by this apparent discovery. “I think… Yeah… Well, uh I guess.” Admittedly on the spot he ran through a list of potential explanations in his mind but her clarification as to why she was digging around through old obituaries caused his eyes to widen a little. Some of the tension in his chest unwound fractionally at the revelation and it gave him a bit more time to think. “Aah… That’s… Yeah that’s a bit less weird then, though you’re right the resemblance is… spooky” he laughed. The sound more than a little awkward in its delivery and at the situation he presently found himself feeling quite floundered in. “That’s why I… um, came here - to this town that is” he clarified quickly “not… this coffee shop. That’d really be weird.” He raised a hand to scratch behind his ear, “because research not just… for that” he indicated the photo with an awkward nod “but research… generally. I teach you see - at the university. History. I teach history.... I’m a historian.”

This poor guy, Erin had to laugh to herself. Here he was just trying to get a cup of coffee in peace and he’d barely made it through the door before a small spectacle was made of himself. Still, the curiosity tugged harder than her sense of good manners. Curiosity prevailed. “It is spooky,  isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes gently in his direction, gesturing towards the open seat across from the table the rest of her things occupied. “Do you have a minute to join me?” She asked, starting to shuffle back towards her seat. “Maybe this is kismet, you know? Like, how else would you describe something like this?” She offered a smile at him, hoping to convey her appreciation for him humoring her as much as he already had. But before she sat, she finally remembered her sense of human civility. “Shit, I’m sorry--I’m Erin, by the way. Erin Nichols,” she reached for his hand, smiling a little bigger and softer. “You can’t tell me you’re not a little curious, especially as a historian.”

“Super spooky,” Arthur agreed, wondering what kind of predicament he’d gotten himself into with this conversation. But he’d gone and put his foot in it hadn’t he? So what else could he do but sit and try to figure out how best to resolve this situation. “Well… I was-” he debated on making up some sort of excuse of a thing he’d been intending on doing, but unfortunately this was a touch more pressing. At least he could be present whilst she did her digging, who knew what she might turn up if he wasn’t around to add a little bit of clarification to it. “But… uh sure…” He internally sighed at the turn of events as he moved to take the proffered seat. “Maybe, or just a really weird coincidence.” Who could say for sure but he returned her smile with a faint albeit genuine one of his own. Always amicable even if he did feel like he was struggling to tread water. The sudden remembrance of civility drew forth a soft huff of a laugh, “all good, Arthur Drake… Pleasure to meet you Erin,” he greeted as he took her hand and shook it politely with a warmer look. “Yeah… Okay you’ve got me,” his smile grew into a little bit of a shy grin “still wasn’t how I was expecting this day to turn out… So how’d you find that anyway? An obituary of someone who passed recently or?”

Erin grinned wider when the man finally seemed to be ceding to her request, even if a bit reluctantly. “I won’t keep you long. I pr--” The word almost slipped from her mouth and Erin pretended to cough to cover up the hiccup. No fucking way was she uttering the ‘p-word’ in the very same place her and Regan had been just a month ago. “Excuse me. Scout’s honor. Not trying to deter your day too much.” It took a moment for her it to click, but the name smacked her with familiarity. Arthur Drake. She nodded, though she was half-distracted as she tried to pull a faint memory from the depths of her brain to connect it. “Yeah, like I said--the family decedent recently passed, so the family gave me their files to go through and put something together for the service and the obituary. It’s pretty common--” she halted mid speech, temporarily forgetting the whole reason this man was here. Instead, focusing on who he was. “Arthur Drake! Wait!” She pointed to him, new enthusiasm in her voice. “You’re Mercy’s Arthur. I mean, you know her. Mercy.” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she recalled the conversation, though a slight, very knowing smirk sat on the tip of her lips.

The sudden way she cut herself off from saying what Arthur could only assume was promise didn’t escape his attention. She’d gotten his attention and now that she had it little slips were something that would be noted and collected, filed in his mind to formulate a better understanding on this strange mortician that seemed to somehow find him of apparent interest. “Alright… I guess I can spare a little time.” How long would depend. But for now it would suffice to give her a bit of leeway. “I see... Well… from what I know he didn’t have any kids of his own this side of the pond… But it’s possible he might’ve fostered a few people and that’s how the name got connected.“ Arthur knew for a fact that was exactly what had happened, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “I’m English myself… Most of my heritage is as well from what little I know of it…” His fingers lightly rubbed at the angle of his jaw as he tried to run the approximate timelines in his head, gods this was going to get confusing. Thankfully he was spared from those calculations by Erin’s sudden exclamation that initially made him blink and then look a fair bit more sheepish than he already had. There was no helping his mild cringe, “ah--- not her Arthur… Well, yes her Arthur but… Not in that sense… Because I’m not… hers. Uh… shit, yes, Gods… What’s she been saying about me? How do you know her?”

What a strange, nervous, little man, Erin thought quietly to herself. His reaction to her inquiry about Mercy was interesting, though. “Mmhmm…” She nodded thoughtfully, unable to hide the little smirk. “We’re old friends. She’s one of the few people in this town who’d gladly scale a cliff with me instead of listing all the reasons why I shouldn’t.” After the past few weeks she’d had, she’d likely give the woman a call for that. Turned her attention back to the screen in her hand, trying to be nonchalant. “Some good things, don’t worry,” she offered pleasantly, but that was all she would say on the matter, recalling how back-and-forth her friend had been when she recalled their Arthur Drake conversation. She halted mid-scroll, the amusement falling from her features suddenly, features narrowing into pure concentration. An older photograph emerged, one from more than a few decades before the original one she had first shown Arthur. Identical. She held the photo up, eyes wide. “Is--do you see that too?”

“Old friends… Huh, interesting” Arthur clicked his tongue a little as he eyed Erin for a moment not quite sure what to make of that statement. “Yeah that definitely sounds like her…” He couldn’t help the way his gaze intensified however in the interim, trying to decipher the code of what constituted good things. The talk of Mercy in all honesty had distracted him temporarily from what they were even ‘researching’. By ‘researching’, it wasn’t Arthur’s typical proactive contribution to sessions as typically befitted his interest in the topic. It was more Erin looking through certain documentations while Arthur asked the odd question here and there trying to look interested while wondering just what this woman might know. That was until Erin froze, and Arthur’s eyes snapped to the screen trying his best to contain his sudden panic. Oh shit. Thankfully at that point his phone vibrated. He snatched up his phone and quickly thumbed open a note tilting the screen just enough to hide its contents as he rushed to fake texting out a reply “oh gods, I’m sorry… my um, tortoise… is really ill and needs food...“ He shot her an apologetic look quickly getting to his feet “well, this was fascinating… Really, but um, yeah… Gotta go, good luck…” With a minor wave, Arthur shot straight for the door cursing this whole venture in his mind. What had he gotten himself into?

[valdez-and-the-argo-crew]

God!Percy fic chapter 2

Previous chapter: https://valdez-and-the-argo-crew.tumblr.com/post/190161565556/godpercy-fic-chapter-1

I woke up to the shimmering form of Annabeth standing at the foot of my bed.

“Di imortales!” I exclaimed, sitting up and pulling a shirt on.

“Rise and shine, Seaweed Brain.” She laughed. She looked more mature than I remember, although that might be because I still remember her as a 16 year old, rather than a 26 year old.

“A little warning would be great, you can’t just Iris message me out of nowhere when you know full well I’m trying to get my beauty sleep.” I pouted.

“Percy it’s like noon where you are, don’t you have like, camp duties to do?” She asked.

“Yeah probably but I haven’t slept in a hot minute, god stuff ya know? Anyways...” I shrugged. “Why are you calling?”

“I just wanted you to know that I’m on my way over, Grover and I left Camp Jupiter yesterday. Had to stop so my pegasus could rest, but we’ll be there probably late afternoon, maybe early evening.” She said.

“Alright cool!” I smiled wide. I hadn’t seen Annabeth in person since the winter solstice, so it was good to finally be seeing her.

The iris message vision started to flicker and fade slowly. It made me kinda sad because now that I’m talking to her, it made me realize just how much I miss her.

“I got to go, but I’ll see you then, Aquaman.” She laughed.

I rolled my eyes at the nickname. “Whatever you say Wise girl.”

She laughed and shook her head as the message faded to almost nothing. “Oh! By the way...you still drool when you sleep.”

With that, the Iris Message faded away completely and I was alone again, but this time with something to look foreword to.

With a very dramatic sigh, I rolled out of bed and grabbed one of my many orange shirts and tugged it over my head. I looked in the mirror I hung over my bed, and noticed my hair was an absolute disaster.

I used my Very Impressive Godly Powers to fix it, since that took absolutely no effort. Theoretically I could look however I wanted, but I chose to look like regular me aging at a regular pace. So basically I look not a day over 25.

After I finish getting ready, I grab riptide off my night stand and I head out the door to the arena. Nothing like a little sword practice in the morning to get me amped up.

I dragged out a training dummy from the shed and start hacking away at it.

I practiced on the dummy until any mortal would’ve been exhausted, but of course I hadn’t broken a sweat. I capped riptide and put the dummy back just as the conch sounded for lunch.

I wasn’t hungry but I walked to the dining hall anyways, sitting at the head table next to Chiron. I grabbed a square of ambrosia and took a bite, washing it down with nectar. Being a god had its perks, like being able to have ambrosia without consequences.

“Afternoon, Percy,” Chiron smiled warmly.

I acknowledged his greeting with a nod as I had more ambrosia.

“Always the appetite,” Chiron chuckled as I finished.

“Hey, don’t judge me I can do what I want.” I laughed. I looked out to all the campers eating and talking at the tables. There were even more campers than yesterday, since more campers keep flooding in. Most of them were claimed right as they crossed past Thalia’s tree, but a few joined Jamie in the Hermes cabin.

Speaking of Jamie, I noticed he looked left out. He was picking at his lunch and hardly talking. I frowned and got up.

“I’ll be back,” I told Chiron, walking away from the head table and over to Jamie. He noticeably perked up when he saw me.

“Percy!” He smiled widely.

“Hey buddy,” I said, standing behind him. I looked at Jacob. “Is there room for me to sit?”

“There’s plenty of room.” He smiled and gestured for me to sit.

I squeezed in next to Jamie, who, once again clung to my arm. He stopped picking at his food and started eating.

I wondered why it was, that Jamie found so much comfort in me, that allowed him to open up. He kept shoveling food down his face, until he finally washed it down with the apple juice in his goblet.

Soon lunch was over. Afternoon activities began, but I went down to the ocean to think. I stepped into the water and walked until my head was all the way under.

As always, I felt calmer here. I felt safer and protected. Thanks dad.

I looked at the passing fish, talking to a few of them as they pass by. Fish aren’t usually very intelligent so it was mostly one sided.

I tread further into the water, the silt and sand in the water swirling around my arms and legs as I walked.

It was silent down here. The only sound was the gentle waves lapping above in a mesmerizing rhythm. The pull of the undertow dragged me farther out, and I obliged, following the current out to sea.

I held out my hands and willed my godly power to flow through my hands and to the water in front of me. I created air bubbles and manipulated the water, just having a bit of fun. I’d never really had a chance to do this before, even though I could’ve done exactly what I’m doing now countless times.

When Zeus told me I was going to be assigned to camp half blood for a while, he took away some of my powers, sort of like a parental control lock (or in this case, divine uncle lock). He said that if I was to be the first god campers interacted with, I shouldn’t have all my powers, because Zeus doesn’t trust me not to loose control. I can’t even tell which camper has which god as a parent, which is unfortunate, because I could’ve helped Jamie.

I focused back on the water, willing it to become a violent raging whirlpool for about a minute, before calming it down again.

What else could I do with my powers?

I didn’t have my own domain like my dad or any of the Big Gods, so as far as I could tell my powers were just my regular Son Of Poseidon powers...but I felt more powerful.

I walked farther into the water and created little ripples of water all around me. I was like Elsa, but less ice-princess-y and more lame-god-playing-around-underwater.

Just for laughs, I made a snowman out of sand, but it quickly fell apart. I laughed and sent a wave over where it had been to dispel the sand.

I created a few more waves just to see if I could. Each one was bigger than the next, though they always fell away before reaching the shore.

I felt free. I miss being able to harness the water while fighting some giant big bad evil person or monster. But quests are reserved for demigods. Maybe I’ll go off and slay some monsters for fun.

I willed a giant wave to form. The kind that knocks you under and spins you around and you’re left directionless with salt water in your nose and mouth. I wasn’t going to let the wave loose, I just wanted to see how big and dangerous I could make a wave.

But a dumb fish distracted me and caused me to let go of the wave, causing it to head directly for Camp Half Blood.

Crap.

That wave was like 10 feet tall and fast moving.

I propelled myself foreword in the water, trying to catch up with the wave. I could tell people at camp had already noticed it, and had started to take cover.

I broke through the wave and ran to the shore, yelling at a few stray campers to get out of my way. I finally got to a good enough distance away and turned around, my hands extended, willing the wave to break apart.

The wave wasn’t listening.

It barreled towards me and the few campers who weren’t smart enough to scram.

“STOP!” I yelled at the wave, using every ounce of power I had to break the wave.

Still nothing.

I started to panic. I’d created a tidal wave that was about to destroy part of camp.

I closed my eyes and braced for the wave to hit, but it never came. Instead came the last voice I’d expected to hear.

“You have an explanation for this?”

I opened my eyes and saw a middle aged guy in a Hawaiian shirt. My dad. He didn’t look happy.

I was about to start talking but Chiron walked over, arms crossed and disappointment evident. I feel like I’m back at a parent teacher conference.

“My bad?” I said with a weak laugh.

“Percy you sent a tidal wave at your camp.” My father scolded. “Why were you making tidal waves?”

“I was just bored.” I mumbled, looking down at the sand.

“My boy, when you’re bored, you make sand castles, you talk to the local fish, you don’t destroy your camp.” Poseidon said firmly.

“I know. I’m sorry.” I said, trying to look him in the eye.

I noticed a few campers starting to gather around, including Jamie.

“Perhaps we’d better take this to thenBig House,” Chiron suggested.

“I agree, though I can’t stay for long.” Poseidon nodded. Chiron and I walked to the Big House while Poseidon just teleported.

Inside, I sat on a couch, trying to take the glare of the god and centaur who were currently mad at me. It wasn’t easy.

“Tell us again what happened, Percy.” Chiron looked at me.

“I just wanted to have a little fun, and to see what I can do.” I explained.

“But you’re smart enough to know what you’re doing. Why the tidal wave?” Poseidon crossed his arms.

“I promise I never meant to send it towards camp. I was going to make the wave go away after I finished forming it but some little minnow distracted me.” I said.

“What I want to know is why you were making a wave that big.” Chiron looked at me for an answer.

I shrugged and sighed. “I miss the adrenaline of a fight, one where I can just call upon everything I have and take down a monster with my power and sword. I’ve just been here for 10 years with nothing to do.”

“But you happily agreed to train sword fighting,” Chiron said.

“And I love it, but it’s not enough. I want to just battle monsters...but all the quests go to the demigods.”

“Percy, you will have plenty of time in your life to experience fighting with all your strength. The next time a great prophecy is issued, I know we gods will have to get involved.” Poseidon said. “Be patient my son. And try to contain yourself, okay?”

“I know, I really am sorry.” I said sincerely.

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed between the three of us.

“Right, well I’d best be headed back to my kingdom. It was good to see both of you.” Poseidon smiled, going back to his usual warm demeanor.

“We can see you out,” Chiron said, opening the door for my dad and me.

To my surprise, someone was leaning against the porch railing, polishing her dagger absentmindedly. Just the sight of her made me completely forget about what had happened.

“Annabeth!” I smiled wide and ran forward to give her a hug. “Where’s Grover?”

“In the woods with Juniper. Talked about her the whole way back.” She laughed, and then noticed my dad behind me.

“Lord Poseidon...? What brings you here?” Annabeth asked, looking between him and Chiron. Great, my dad is going to humiliate me in front of my best friend.

“Oh nothing, there was just a mishap off the sound so I came here to assure everything was alright. Percy can tell you about it later.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow, turning her head towards me. I felt myself go red so I looked away.

“Anyways, it’s good to see you seaweed brain.” Annabeth smiled.

“You too, Owl head,” I quipped back. “We were just gonna walk back to the shore. Come with?”

“I see no reason not to.” She shrugged. The four of us started walking back to the beach. We were almost there when Poseidon paused.

“While I’m here, I suppose there is one thing I need to do.” He said and turned to look at the crowd of campers that were following us. He pointed right at Jamie, and I knew what he was going to say in an instant. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

Annabeth noticed too. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she was looking between me, Jamie and Poseidon.

The jet black, windswept hair, the sea green eyes, the fierce expression and inquisitive smile, and even though my skin tone was slightly darker than his, we both had the same beach-y tan look...

“Jamie Reed,” Poseidon smiled and beckoned him forward. “It’s nice to meet you, my son.”

A collective gasp arose from the campers who had tethered around. Poseidon put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder and a sea green trident lit up above Jamie’s head. The little boy was awe struck.

Chiron stepped forward. “All hail Jamie Reed, brother to Percy, and Son of the ocean, the earth shaker; Poseidon”

[hellyeahheroes]

Ghost Spider problems

Disclaimer: the comic is not bad. Take this as constructive criticism

1. Start from the beginning

This is all you get when it comes to Gwen’s origin.

And before you say that this is mirroring Peter, no. Amazing Fantasy #15 was a fully fleshed out origin story. Amazing Spider-man #1 takes place immediately after Uncle Ben’s murder. Gwen’s origin encompasses years of her being Spider-woman with actual events that go beyond just a sparse origin. When Spider-Gwen starts, we are like coming in at the equivalent of Amazing Spider-man #300.

So Jason Latour tries to use flashbacks and detailed full page word dump expositions at the end of each issue to further fill in the gap between the shit the audience doesn’t know. The latter is quite frankly the laziest thing I’ve ever seen in writing. Rather than creating stories to establish characters and create a catalogue to their history, lets fucking just explain everything that happened in essay form.

This, til this day, pisses me off.

Anyways, when Latour did introduce a characters like a Harry Osborn, he relied on flashbacks to detail what happened. The issue however that he was simultaneously advancing a story while retroactively setting foundation of a character. One example of a past event being constructed entirely out of flashbacks: the death of Peter Parker.

In these flashbacks that are construed across multiple issues and not in chronological order of either the issue nor the flashback, Latour basically shows the audience for the first time Peter’s personality, how Gwen was after her dad indirectly told her about his feeling about Spider-Woman, and a little about their high school life.

The problem with this is that Latour relied on the interpretation of 616 Spider-man characters when he didn’t elaborate on their character for characters like George Stacy, J. Jonah Jameson, and Aunt May while simultaneously hiding behind the excuse of it’s an alternate universe to explain why characters are different. This comes with accusations of character shilling since he portrayed Em Jay as a selfish self-centered person, Peter as an arrogant misanthrope, but Gwen completely escapes her negative 616 characterization and comes off looking better.

So Spider-Gwen really doesn’t have an origin story. And no one actually bothered to make one even 4 years later.

2. Alternate Dimensions convolutes stories

Traveling to another dimension to just fucking go to school is cop out. Granted, the explanation as to why it was done was simply because Gwen doesn’t have a secret identity anymore, but okay, far be it for me from wanting a good time. It would have been more interesting if she persisted in trying to go to school in her universe while being known as Spider-woman, anxiety attacks be damned. “Man fuck consequences of a plot point, let’s just create a specific scenario to avoid them” is what McGuire decided to do. Didn’t even bother to retcon. Just fucking noped it.

MJ says what I’m thinking.

Barring this, it is a stretches my suspension of disbelief that ESU would enroll a girl who not only is named after a deceased student who you named a library after in memoriam but also looks like the girl who died and is around the same age. Oh and also, you hired the guy who looks exactly like her mentor who went on to practice unethical experiments and tried to conquer the world with them at one point but he has a different name so...

Granted, Latour twice left Spider-Gwen in a hole. He wasted Gwen revealing her identity to her father for the introduction of the character and Gwen then revealing her identity to the world to defeat Matt Murderdock kind of screwed the pooch. First, there has to be a way for Gwen to defeat him without sacrificing her identity like exonerating herself from being blamed for Peter’s death because clearly she’s innocent(self-defense and saving kids from some incel white boy turned monster is not an jailable offense).

Regardless, McGuire was dealt a shitty hand that nuked any possibility of continuing any story developments in E-65 without Gwen being under constant danger. I, for one, would welcome it and had Gwen continue to try, it would have made shit interesting.

But this is also taking away Gwen from her own supporting cast that she has had since the beginning and also from her setting. The more she is in 616, the less I am going to see of the Mary Janes. The less I see of Harry although I don’t mind that. The less I see of any character that was established in her series. And honestly, those new characters could have been introduced in her own setting. Hell, E-65 Jackal could have been a college professor at E-65 ESU without Gwen knowing if she attended there.

Why are we choosing to avoid superhero drama in a superhero comic book?

3. Don’t rely on 616 Gwen Stacy while simultaneously declaring this Gwen as a different character

For all intents and purposes, the Death of Gwen Stacy has nothing to do with Spider-Gwen. This book and her fans will deflect any criticism about the lack of parallels between Gwen Stacy’s death and Peter’s death by saying Spider-Gwen is not the same as Gwen. You sit there and complain that all Gwen Stacy is known for is dying yet you commentate using a completely amended character while simultaneously avoiding the literal hundred of issues of character that 616 Gwen previously had before her death.

If you read the Night Gwen Stacy Died as a stand-alone, what you did was the equivalent of watching the Red Wedding without the three seasons leading to the event.

Spider-Gwen can’t go five issues without harping on about every miserable or unhappy or dead Gwen in some other universe. It comes to a culmination that writers want to tie Spider-Gwen to 616 Gwen Stacy so much that she is actively going to school in 616. The same school that Gwen attended and has a library named after her in memoriam, and apparently her creepy stalker teacher still teaches at albeit with a different identity because no one apparently recognizes faces anymore.

This doesn’t redeem Gwen. In fact, you proved Gerry Conway’s point. 616 Gwen is so unlikeable that you’d have to completely change her character to make her not worth throwing off the bridge.

Point is that Spider-Gwen treading the stories of Gwen Stacy defeats the purpose of separating the two in personality. What happens if Kindred is revealed to be the ressurrected Gwen Stacy while Gwen basically caught treading her stories instead of continuing her own?

4. The Jackal? Fucking really?

Personal, but point still stands. I fucking hate the Jackal. Jackal is like the catalyst of feeling like you need to take a shower afterwards. Along with the Inherentors, this is one of the villains that go to far in being made for a specific purpose in that they really don’t have a motivation as to just why do they do the things they do other than to be a bad guy.

Warren Miles is a creepy professor with an almost paedophillic obsession with his barely legal and also dead mentee, 616 Gwen Stacy. And it’s only almost because Gwen was 19 and almost certainly would have engaged in a sexual relationship with her. I don’t buy that he saw her as his child because it’s not like Gwen was just this remarkable science prodigy that would warrant any special attention from a professor. No, she was a remarkable and hot co-Ed scientist that was in her sophomore year. He was trying to fuck her and hated that she was dating guys her age. I wouldn’t put it past him to quid quo pro her into some sick shit for grades.

And the thing about it is that this story has been done before with Mary Jane and it was more appropriate to her occupation as she was a model at the time and married to Peter Parker. She is going to get the attention of richer and skeezy men that would have the power to force her into questionable shit. Hollywood is pretty much a glorified sex trafficking ring, don’t @ me. Far be it for me to say male professors don’t abuse their station on women and sure, I’d like a Spider-Man story to explore that, but Jackal takes it to a whole other that defiles the memory of a dead girl. It is basically a type of necrophilia and ew ew ew ew.

His obsession with Gwen and clones doesn’t foil Peter in anyway. It literally carries this creepy and unsettling implication that if Gwen lived, he would have raped her. There has never been a good Jackal storyline. It is literally the CJ meme every time he appears. He is not an engaging or fun.

Guess who is the first villain Gwen faces in 616.

Why people insist on putting him in anything over more thematically appropriate and fun characters is beyond me. I don’t even mind 65 Jackal. He doesn’t seem to interested in teenaged girls. He just wants to kill her like a proper super villain from what I gather. But of course, we had to not be spared from the comic equivalent of taint that is Miles Warren.

@ubernegro

[thanksfornothinguselessreptile]

A Shifting World Chapter 9: A Reckless Rescue

First Chapter

<–Previous

Work Summary: Things have been going great since Hiccup and Toothless have defeated the Red Death. He has his father’s approval, a group of friends his own age, and is leading the integration of dragons and the Vikings of Berk. When neighboring tribes call together a meeting to discuss rumors of Vikings riding dragons, however, Stoick decides to keep their alliance with dragons under wraps. Hiccup must decide whether he should listen to his father or seek to teach the other Vikings of the archipelago the truths about dragons.

AO3

Rating: T

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Stoick, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout

Pairings: Minor Hiccup x Astrid

Chapter Summary: More pieces of the puzzle are revealed in the process of a rescue mission.

Chapter Warnings: Death Mention, Murder Mention, Food Mention

Hiccup tried to keep calm as he treaded water. Nothing good came from panicking. Instead, he tried to run his mind through ways to escape.

The list was rather small.

Mostly it depended on someone else rescuing him. However, Toothless was out of sight, and by the time he reached where Hiccup was the ocean would’ve dragged him down. If their departure had woken up the ship and they began rowing in his direction, they’d hardly get there any sooner.

And the moment he was going to sink was getting closer. His clothes, his leg, they weighed him down, slowed his movements. And eventually, they would drag him down into the dark abyss where not even moonlight reached. His muscles were already struggling with the effort of keeping afloat. He was going to tire.

Well, at least I don’t have to explain to Dad why the Thunderdrum’s gone with our supplies. Hiccup really appreciated how his mind still had the opportunity to joke at his situation.

And that was when a blur of motion caught his attention from the top of his eye.

He forced his head to tilt up, and saw a dragon-shaped figure blot out the stars. And they were diving.

Diving toward him.

“This really isn’t my day.” The salt and exhaustion had made Hiccup’s mumble more into a rasp, but it wasn’t as if he had an audience to appreciate it.

The dragon came closer, diving so low their belly skimmed the water. With a mixture of both relief and exasperation, he recognized the silhouette as a Hideous Zippleback, complete with a rider for each head.

That was all he had time to absorb, because for the second time that night something knocked the wind out of him.

The impact must’ve done something to his memory, because next he knew he was scrabbling at a warm, moving, scaly surface that wrapped around his stomach and sides, trying not to fall.

Beyond the roar of the wind, a human voice caught his attention.

A familiar one.

“Oh, yeah! Another perfectly executed rescue, if I do say so myself.” That voice was unmistakably Tuffnut’s.

Ruffnut’s piped up in a snarl. “Only because I told Barf and Belch to fly lower!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Tuffnut’s tone told into a mock scold. “Let us not quibble over specifics, my dear sister.”

“Oh, yes, let’s!” The sound of fighting rang out behind him, quickly followed by the sound of jaws filled with long, sharp teeth snapping at each other.

Of all the people to rescue me, it had to be them. Hiccup would’ve rolled his eyes if he hadn’t lost his grip at that moment. He panicked and managed to grab ahold of the dragon’s base of their neck again. However, one more near miss like that, and he’d be reintroduced to the ocean. And in this state, he doubted the twins or the Zippleback would even notice.

“Hey!” His voice came out as a weak rasp, and he forced himself to clear his throat and shout louder. “Hey!”

“Oh, yeah?” Ruffnut said, the sounds of fighting from all sides stopping immediately.

“Can we take this up later? I’m going to slip.” As Hiccup spoke he felt his fingers start to lose their grip.

“Oh, sure!” Ruffnut walked down Barf’s neck as casually as she might down a road on Berk to pull him back onto Barf and Belch’s torso.

Hiccup let himself catch his breath, staring up at the sky above. His arms and legs twitched and shuddered as cold wind barreled into his body and caught in his soaked clothes. “You guys really need to work on your rescue maneuvers.”

“I told you!” Ruffnut’s voice sounded like she was already back on her spot on Barf’s neck.

Hiccup could hear Tuffnut sniff above the roar of wind. “He was clearly pointing out your lack of skill.”

“Not to interrupt a charming sibling squabble,” Hiccup said, making his voice as loud as his aching ribcage allowed, “but why are you here?”

“Oh, that’s simple.” Ruffnut’s voice snapped from confrontational to almost jovial. “We decided that it so wasn’t fair of you all to go to the Thing and not us just because all your parents are going and not ours.”

“So we snuck after you!” Tuffnut sounded like he was giving Hiccup the best news he’d ever heard.

“Yeah, Toothless told us.” Hiccup paused for a moment to catch his breath. “But why are you so far away from the ship?”

“Everyone on the ship was sleeping. It was boring.” Tuffnut sounded so casual for a person who followed a ship when they weren’t supposed to. Then again, these were the twins. Doing stuff like this was kind of their thing.

“And then we happened to see you flying off on that Thunderdrum.” Ruffnut sounded way too excited over that plot development for Hiccup’s taste. “Now that, that was interesting.”

Hiccup sighed. “Well, I guess now I have to explain to Dad why I lost a dragon. Again.” He groaned as he remembered something else. “As well as some of our supplies.”

“Well, then have we got good news for you!” Ruffnut said. Hiccup looked up in time for her to point in a random direction. “Before we had to go rescue you, we saw it fly off that way.”

It felt like every muscle in his body jolted awake at the same time. He rocketed up, nearly falling off the dragon. “What?”

“Yeah, it was going in a different direction than where it was taking you.” Tuffnut had his arms crossed over his chest in pride. “Pretty sneaky. Sis, we have to take notes.”

“And you said he was flying?” Hiccup had expected him to swim the rest of the way to wherever he was going. However, it did kind of make sense; the Thunderdrum probably noticed the net that held them together was damaged and wouldn’t want to risk losing or damaging the supplies he carried.

Ruffnut nodded. “That’s what I said, so yeah!” She sounded annoyed at having to confirm this.

Okay, so perhaps this situation was salvageable.

“Okay, so first we go back and grab Toothless, and then we can follow him.” He wondered if he’d have to prompt them to listen with tales of the Thunderdrum’s abilities, but the twins didn’t seem to be in the mood to skip what could be a cool adventure.

It didn’t take long for Barf and Belch to spot Toothless, still swimming in the ocean. Fortunately, they actually used their claws to pick the Night Fury from the water rather than repeat Hiccup’s rescue.

“Toothless, you okay?” Hiccup tried to lean over Barf’s shoulder to check on him, but the wind nearly knocked him off the dragon, forcing him to retake his seat.

“Yes!” Toothless sounded happy for a dragon who’d just been picked out of the ocean like a fish. Hiccup wondered if he’d heard his scream but knew he was too far away to help.

Anyways, Hiccup caught him up on what happened. When he got to where the Thunderdrum had abandoned him, Toothless gave a snarl that even the wind couldn’t tear away.

“Remember, bud, this Thunderdrum needs help.” Hiccup hoped his voice would calm his friend. “We don’t attack unless in self-defense.”

“Yes.” Toothless’s reply was sharp and curt, but Hiccup figured that he would listen and not seek revenge.

With Toothless in their claws, Barf and Belch were flying more slowly, despite the speed and strength with which their wings now beat. Hiccup was sure, at this rate, they wouldn’t be back before someone noticed their absence.

But that didn’t matter now, right? Whether it would get them in trouble or not, that Thunderdrum needed help, even if he wouldn’t admit it. They’d just have to keep flying and hope the consequences weren’t that severe.

“Sorry, Dad,” he whispered anyways. He could already hear the lecture he was going to earn when they returned. He just had to hope Stoick would understand.

They heard the roars before Barf and Belch spotted the island.

“What’s going on?” Hiccup leaned as far over Barf’s shoulder as he could, trying to see around his head and rider. However, he couldn’t see anything that far away, especially not in the dark.

Belch hissed something. Hiccup recognized the sounds for “Viking” and “ships” but nothing else.

“Viking ships are hunting the dragon.” Toothless’s snarl ended in a snap of his jaws.

“What?” Hiccup chanced leaning a little further. However far he leaned, though, the island was still wrapped in the distant darkness.

“What’s going on?” Ruffnut had turned back to stare at him.

“There are Viking ships attacking the Thunderdrum.” Hiccup forced himself back onto the center of the dragon’s back, just ahead of the wings.

“What kinds? How many?” Tuffnut turned around also.

“What formation? How much food?” Ruffnut paused as Tuffnut turned and raised an eyebrow at her. “Those are good questions too!”

“I don’t know.” He and Toothless hadn’t gotten to numbers yet. But, maybe, they’d be able to find some way to communicate that anyways. He leaned over. “How many ships are there?”

Toothless made a thoughtful rumbling sound, as if humming in thought, before snorting three times. Okay, so three ships. No big deal, right? But when Hiccup asked if he recognized the ships, he made an uncertain sound. Hiccup sat back up and told Ruffnut and Tuffnut what he’d learned.

“An unknown tribe? Well, that’s helpful!” Ruffnut rolled her eyes and turned around.

“You forgot: we love surprises!” Tuffnut leaned forward, grasping Belch’s horns with a newfound excitement. “Bet you Belch and I can beat you there!”

“No way!” Ruffnut twisted around and mirrored his pose on Barf. “Barf can fly circles around you and Belch!”

“Guys, same dragon!” Hiccup shouted as he got a better grip on Barf and Belch’s spines.

From the cackling ahead, Hiccup came to the conclusion that both had just been winding him up. He sighed and told himself to try and avoid encouraging them in the future.

He knew it’d be a near-impossible task.

Somehow, Barf and Belch managed to pick up just a little more speed, their heads perking up. Soon enough, the island came into view. It started as just a spot on the horizon that didn’t shimmer with reflected moonlight, but quickly grew until Hiccup could see more details if he squinted.

They were approaching a small harbor on the shore of the island, a stony beach surrounded by sheer cliffs. In its entrance floated three shapes that resembled Viking ships, but with an unusual silhouette. They looked too pointy to be from any tribe that Hiccup was familiar with.

And flying between these ships and the island was a still-smaller dot. As small as the dot was, his roar carried over to them loud and clear. Every so often, the Thunderdrum would make a swoop toward the ships. A catapult or bola would fly toward him, forcing him to swerve and break off the attack. Still, he wouldn’t retreat.

If Hiccup was right about the Thunderdrum protecting sick or injured dragons, there was no wonder he wouldn’t just escape while he could.

“We need to get over there and help him!” Even as he said it, he felt his mind race. They were flying into battle with Vikings prepared to fight dragons. They were just three humans with two dragons, one of whom couldn’t fly, the other probably tired from carrying all of them over open ocean without a break.

Things weren’t looking promising.

Just then, Toothless roared something. Hiccup tried to listen to him, but most of the words he didn’t understand. It was something about flying, and land, and fire.

Barf and Belch burbled something in response. Hiccup nearly jumped when their back sloped to the left. They were veering to the side of the harbor, away from where they were needed.

“Hey, where are you going?” Tuffnut asked, leaning toward the battle. He gave Ruffnut a narrow-eyed glare and jutted out his jaw as if in accusation.

“No, where are you going?” Ruffnut jabbed a finger at Tuffnut’s nose. “We need to fly straight in there, not go hide!”

“I’m not doing anything, so it has to be you!” Tuffnut punched Ruffnut’s shoulder, and nearly fell off Belch when she returned the favor.

“Guys, this isn’t either of you!” And it wasn’t the time to argue about it. “I think Toothless told them to do this!”

“Where are we going?” Ruffnut stopped fighting for a moment to stare at the island they were now flying over.

“I have no idea.” Hiccup leaned over, trying to see something in the forest had caught Toothless’s eye.

Instead, he saw Toothless dropping toward the trees, wings open to slow his fall.

“Toothless!” Hiccup’s shout did nothing; the Night Fury didn’t even look back as he disappeared beneath the branches. Barf and Belch turned and picked up their pace, back toward the battle.

“Why’d Toothless abandon us?” Tuffnut sounded a lot more uncertain than Hiccup had ever heard him. “The battle’s not going that bad, is it?”

Hiccup forced himself to sit back on Barf and Belch’s shoulders. “I don’t know. But he must have a plan, and we need to trust him.” He knew that Toothless wouldn’t do that if it wasn’t necessary. He took a breath. “Okay, we need to get over there and help the Thunderdrum stop those Vikings.” And hope that he’ll accept our help.

“Okay.” Tuffnut leaned out over Belch’s neck. “See you, Toothless!”

“See you! Wouldn’t want to be you!” And with that, the forest dropped away from beneath the Zippleback, replaced by the beach.

As Barf and Belch flew lower and approached the ships, Hiccup squinted toward them. Even in the dark, he could tell the sails were blank; white cloth showed well at night. But while they looked like the typical Viking ship with dragon skulls on the stemposts and spikes on the hulls, he couldn’t place their allegiance.

“No idea who those ships belong to,” Hiccup said as he grabbed tighter onto the Zippleback’s spine. “But we can’t let them trap that dragon.”

Ruffnut cast a mischievous smile at both Hiccup and her brother. “Aw, what’s the big deal? Whatever their tribe, we can take them easily!”

As Barf and Belch drew near, Hiccup heard a trapper shout, “Fire!” Seconds later, Hiccup felt the wind of a thrown net brush his cheek, even as Barf and Belch swerved to the side, breaking off their advance.

“You were saying?” he asked as he rubbed at his cheek. That had been too close.

Tuffnut punched the air. “It’s going to take a lot more than nets to take us, you cowards!”

“Yeah!” Ruffnut leaned over toward the ships and nodded. “You’ll never take us alive!”

Well, Hiccup hadn’t been thinking of retreating when there were dragons in need, but now he really needed to come up with a plan, and fast.

And hope whatever Toothless was doing would pan out.

But first, they really needed to stop the ships from reaching the shore. They were already almost there.

“All right, we need to slow those ships down, but we can’t get too close, or they’ll net us.” Hiccup glanced off of Belch’s wing. The ships were relatively close together, as the harbor wasn’t that big. “Barf, Belch, can you create a wall of gas without lighting it?” No Viking worth their salt would sail straight into a wall of flammable gas while riding a wooden boat. Even if they weren’t blown up, they’d still risk holing their ship in the relatively shallow waters thanks to the low vision.

“Yes,” Barf and Belch gurgled in unison. They pulled into a tight spiral down to the ocean, creating a line of sulfurous gas across the water. A couple quick wingbeats and a tight spin later, and they were adding another layer to the thick, green wall. It was a tricky maneuver; they had to maintain a level glide to avoid dispersing the previous wall with any wingbeats, breathing out the gas far enough away from the first layer to maximize the amount of area they could cover without leaving any clearer areas for the ships to use. On top of all this, they had to do this with Barf’s head constantly lowered to avoid getting any of his and Belch’s riders with the gas, which could knock a human out if they breathed in too much.

Once the third layer drifted into place, Barf and Belch glided away. Hiccup frowned and watched the Outcasts as they neared the fogbank. Thankfully, they were furling the sails and dropping their anchors to keep away from the noxious and potentially explosive cloud. However, while the night wasn’t windy, eventually the cloud would thin. And once it did, the trappers would be able to sail through it safely without needing to fear crashing or exploding.

But it turned it they didn’t need to wait that long.

A bellow in Hiccup’s ear made him turn around, just in time to see the Thunderdrum dive into the water.

“Oh, no.” And a glimmer in the corner of his eye drew his attention to something worse. The trappers on the ships were pulling out metal poles taller than their wielders, each side ending in a wicked hook.

“This ain’t going to be pretty.” Ruffnut must’ve spotted the same thing he had. “What do you say about blowing stuff up now?”

Hiccup nodded; they had no choice left. “If you can without hurting the dragon.”

As Barf and Belch spun around, diving toward the wall of gas, a muffled roar drew Hiccup’s attention to the ship in the back left of the loose formation. As he watched, the back half of the ship started to splinter. The trappers on board screamed and clutched at ropes, intact wood, each other, whatever they could grab. It wasn’t enough to save everyone on board.

But even with the destruction of that ship, many of the Vikings were preparing to spear the dragon when they next came around.

That was all Hiccup could see before he heard a scraping sound, followed by a loud explosion and burst of light. The wind in heat boosted them up higher, and when Hiccup’s eyes readjusted he saw a large fogbank where the gas had once floated. The displaced water shoved the remaining boats toward the mouth of the harbor, as well as dispersed the wreckage of the third. It threw the trappers off so that the Thunderdrum could swim off unharmed, but unfortunately he looked like he was going to make another pass.

And then a flash of purple darted out from the trees. Next thing Hiccup knew, the sails of the ship on the left were burning. Several trappers had to abandon the sides of the ship to douse them. Even from the distance they were flying at, Hiccup could hear the trappers shout, “Get down!”

“Oh, now he shows up!” Ruffnut said as Barf and Belch passed over the ships and turned around to face them again.

“Well, he’s fifteen minutes late to the party!” Tuffnut tsked as Barf created another line of gas over the water, closer to the ships. “And he didn’t bring dessert!”

Another bolt of purple flame rushed out of the forest, this time striking the same ship on a piece of hull underneath the waterline. From that far away, the blast didn’t have enough strength to hole it, but it shoved it toward the ship on its right, and away from the wreckage of the third ship. Many of the survivors had dropped their weapons and were swimming toward the other ships.

And then Hiccup saw the Thunderdrum swimming toward them.

As much as Hiccup didn’t like dragon trappers, these ones couldn’t fight back.

“Hey, guys, stop him!” Hiccup patted Barf and Belch’s back to get their attention and then gestured in the other dragon’s attention.

Barf and Belch glanced at each other, then gurgled and dove.

“Wait, why are we trying to stop him from killing the dragon trappers again?” Ruffnut scratched at her helmet. “Did I miss something?”

“They can’t fight back.” Hiccup wanted them to leave the Thunderdrum alone, but he wanted to drive them away, not kill them.

For a few seconds, Hiccup wondered if Barf and Belch were going to miss the Thunderdrum. If they did, there’d be no second chance. But then a rush of water splashed around Barf and Belch’s sides, and their wings lurched as they grabbed onto him. Hiccup couldn’t see how exactly they’d latched onto the other dragon, but they were now holding him back. Although, from how Barf and Belch kept lurching sideways toward the wrecked ship, he wasn’t sure how long they’d be able to keep hold of him.

Just as this occurred to him, a shout rose up from the trapper ships. Hiccup glanced up to see oars lowered over the ships sides. His stomach clenched for a second, but then he realized they weren’t heading deeper into the harbor.

They were leaving.

Toothless had continued his attack on the ships, his blasts buffeting them around, starting fires, creating steam that rose from the water as thick as smoke. And from the shout of, “Night Furies” rising from the trappers’ ships, the chaos and poor visibility had made the trappers think that there were more than one attacking them.

Under those circumstances, Hiccup supposed even the most reckless Vikings might be tempted to cut their losses.

“Cowards!” Ruffnut shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth to be as loud as possible.

“You heard her!” Tuffnut pointed at his sister. “Come back and fight like real Vikings!”

Hiccup winced. Now there was no way to deny that there were riders with the dragons. Hopefully these trappers weren’t in league with any of the tribes present at the Thing.

As the ships turned around, half-drowned trappers still clinging to their spikes in a desperate bid to climb aboard, Hiccup concentrated on the fact that the Thunderdrum still wasn’t stopping his attempts to destroy the ships.

“Barf! Belch!” The dragon heads didn’t look back at him, but he was sure he’d gotten their attention anyways. “Can you tell him not to go after them? We won!”

Barf gurgled toward the Thunderdrum. Hiccup didn’t understand a single word, but he could tell he was taking a long time to say whatever it was.

A curt, “No!” came from underwater.

Belch joined in, with a similarly lengthy and unintelligible response.

For several minutes, Barf and Belch continued talking, with the Thunderdrum continuing to snap at them as he continued trying to get at the ships. While he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, Hiccup could tell by how much more frequently the Zippleback’s wings faltered and they lost ground that they couldn’t keep this up forever. Eventually, the Thunderdrum would break their hold. And when that happened, he could easily overtake a couple battered ships.

Just when Hiccup resigned himself to the fact that, despite how hard they tried, they couldn’t stop a mass amount of deaths, Barf and Belch seemed to stop moving sideways as fast. The Thunderdrum’s replies grew less and less spirited, until, finally, he stopped.

Barf and Belch tentatively let go. A few sloppy wingbeats managed to save them from a stall and plunge into the ocean, and they began to climb toward the sky, up near the lip of the surrounding cliffs.

Hiccup squinted into the trees. While he was sure that Toothless was in that forest, though, he couldn’t see him any better than if he was flying in the night sky. He raised a hand to gesture that all was clear anyways, just in case.

With that, Barf and Belch glided toward the pebbly shore at the far end of the harbor. Hiccup could tell, by how heavily they set down, that everything they’d been doing that night had taken a lot out of them. They definitely had to stop and rest before returning to the ship. He cast a quick glance at the moon. It was rather low in the sky, which meant that by the time the Zippleback had enough strength to carry everyone back to the ship dawn would have broken, and their disappearance revealed.

Stoick was not going to like this.

Shortly after Barf and Belch landed, the Thunderdrum swam up to them, crawling on shore with the waves. His eyes were narrowed and his teeth partly bared, but he didn’t seem about to attack. Hiccup had had enough fights tonight to last a while, thank you very much.

“He’s staring at us.” Tuffnut had leaned back to whisper to Hiccup, as if he wasn’t aware that the Thunderdrum could probably still hear him.

“I know.” Hiccup made sure to speak at a normal volume; he was sure the Thunderdrum would be upset if he continued to act like he couldn’t hear them when they were all right there.

“Is that good or bad?” Ruffnut was staring back at the Thunderdrum, but with such exaggeratedly large eyes Hiccup was sure he wouldn’t take her seriously.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” The best they could do was wait for Toothless to come and help interpret.

Before Hiccup could wonder when his friend would be arriving, the Thunderdrum’s eyes widened. He snapped something, and Hiccup winced, waiting for the dragon to attack.

But then Barf and Belch swiveled their heads around to face behind them, and Hiccup realized that he hadn’t been looking at them.

Hiccup turned around. Out of a shallow, hardly visible cave in the cliff walls, a draconic shape emerged. A second Thunderdrum, about the same size as the one they were familiar with. But while their species was the same, they looked quite different. Their Thunderdrum was a dark ocean-blue, while this was a purple you might see in an evening sky. And while both had two ribbed wings, like most dragons, the purple Thunderdrum had a gaping hole in his left one.

Hiccup winced, and he could feel Barf and Belch rumbling in pained sympathy.

The blue Thunderdrum grumbled at the purple one. He sounded scolding, as if talking to a hatchling rather than a dragon around his own age. The purple one rumbled back, and while he stopped advancing he didn’t return to his hiding space.

“Uh, I’m guessing that this is his family?” Ruffnut asked as she squinted at the dragon. “Kind of smaller than I thought it would be.”

But while the two Thunderdrums continued their back and forth, no more came out from hiding. Perhaps they were still laying low, or somewhere else?

The cynical part of Hiccup told him it was probably darker than that. He pushed it aside and told it that there was no way to know for certain until Toothless came to translate.

And a few minutes later, he did. Toothless wasted no time searching for a safe path down the cliff; instead, he leaped off the cliff, wings spread to slow his fall in a not-quite-glide. Hiccup winced as one of his legs slid on the rocky shore, but he showed no signs of injury as he trotted up to Hiccup.

“Hello,” he said, his eyes bright and ears perked up. He looked like he was bursting with energy, despite everything.

“You took your time.” Tuffnut crossed his arms and looked away, jaw jutting in an exaggerated scowl.

Toothless narrowed his eyes and snorted at him, smoke curling from his nostrils.

Hiccup laughed. “Glad you’re okay, bud.”

Toothless looked back to him, his mouth open in a large smile. “You, too.”

Hiccup smiled and slid off Barf and Belch’s back. If the Thunderdrums noticed, they were too busy arguing amongst each other to say anything. From the sounds of clattering rocks to Hiccup’s side, he could guess Ruffnut and Tuffnut were following his lead.

Hiccup tried to listen in on what the dragons were saying. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t get the gist of the conversation. Once or twice Hiccup thought he heard them talking about humans, but he wasn’t quite sure. Even if he could confirm that for sure, he had no idea about what humans they were discussing. Them? The Berkians on the ship? The dragon trappers? All three?

But it didn’t look like any of them planned on stopping their discussion anytime soon. Which meant that Hiccup had to step in.

“Ready to translate?” Hiccup glanced between the Thunderdrums and Toothless before he took a deep breath. Beside him, Toothless did the same. Hiccup could feel himself tense with nervousness, but he forced out an, “Excuse me for a minute,” anyways.

When Toothless translated it with a sound that was like clearing a throat, both dragons fixed their gazes on him. The blue Thunderdrum’s was narrowed, and while not hostile he still looked suspicious. The purple one’s were wider and softer, curious.

Hiccup shifted his weight from foot to foot and tried not to look too nervous under the dragons’ stares. “Right. Uh, I’m glad you’re both okay.” He paused to let Toothless translate as well as formulate his next sentence. He wanted something a bit better than, “Glad we didn’t all die in a burst of flame.”

The blue Thunderdrum said something in a low, deep growl, his eyes never leaving Hiccup’s.

Toothless turned back to Hiccup. “Why didn’t you let him fire on ship?”

Hiccup thought of how to phrase it. “It was wrong to kill them while they were fleeing. They’d stopped trying to hurt us, and it just wouldn’t be fair.”

Toothless translated. The blue Thunderdrum huffed, his fangs still bared. The purple one just looked thoughtful.

The blue Thunderdrum snarled something else, and Toothless translated. “The humans will come. They will fire again.”

Hiccup could see his point. If the Thunderdrum had killed the surviving trappers, perhaps they’d be safe on the island.

But then again, perhaps these trappers had allies who knew where they’d gone and what they were doing. If they hadn’t returned, then they could come anyways, seeking vengeance instead of capture.

Hiccup had Toothless relate that, then added, “Is there any possible way you and your pod can move? At least until this all blows over.”

The blue Thunderdrum snorted and growled something for Toothless to translate. “I can carry the dragon. But the dragon can’t fly, can’t swim well. The humans will follow.”

From the sounds of it, these two were the only Thunderdrums, as Hiccup had suspected. Which made the blue Thunderdrum ditching him make more sense. They were two kids like him, looking out for each other. And if the blue Thunderdrum distrusted humans, then he wouldn’t want to reveal where he and his only surviving friend lived. Especially if he couldn’t fly or swim to safety.

Hiccup took a deep breath and focused on his next step of action. It could either go really well, or really bad. He couldn’t see any in-between. “If you wish, there’s always a place on Berk. Our island. We’ve made peace with the dragons, and you’ll be safe there.”

As expected, the blue Thunderdrum bared his fangs and opened his mouth to reply. But then the purple one spoke up, his voice quieter than the blue one’s.

Hiccup waited for Toothless to translate, but instead he said something to the other dragon. When the purple Thunderdrum responded, looking confused, Toothless curled his tail around and extended his tailfin. Even in the dark, the gaping hole on the left side of his tailtip stood out like a broken tooth.

Hiccup couldn’t help but wince. Because of him, Toothless couldn’t fly on his own. Because of him, he’d nearly died on the ground, cut off from the sky, a fate unthinkable to him even a few months after tasting flight for the first time.

Before Hiccup could properly push his emotions to the side, Toothless nodded at him. He blinked, suddenly aware that the purple Thunderdrum was looking at him with hope in his eyes.

“Uh, what are they saying?” Hiccup became aware that Ruffnut and Tuffnut were now leaning over to him, trying to figure out everything.

“I think Toothless just suggested I found a way to help the purple Thunderdrum fly and swim again.” A bit of a daunting task, given that Toothless was the only dragon he had experience with that with, and even then he hadn’t figured out a way for him to fly alone.

But then again, he always did like a challenge. And if he found some way to help this dragon fly without assistance, maybe he could do the same with Toothless.

The two Thunderdrums drew away and spoke with each other. The blue dragon spoke in harsh growls, but slowly his temper changed from angry to resigned. Hiccup couldn’t miss how his gaze lingered on the other one’s injured wing.

Finally, the blue Thunderdrum stepped up. “Yes.” They then added something that Hiccup couldn’t understand, and Toothless translated. “We rest, then we go to ship. When the ship goes to your island, we rest there ----- you ---- his wing, then we go back here.”

Well, at least that was something. Hiccup nodded. “Thank you.” Even though he knew Toothless would translate it, he made sure that his relief was present in his voice.

The blue Thunderdrum didn’t seem at all moved, even though his friend seemed happy. He said one last thing, which Toothless translated. “We leave after sunrise.”

Hiccup nodded, even as he tried to hide his wince. His dad was definitely not going to be happy about this.

Next–>

[thoughtlesstales]

Finally He Comes Home, Chapter Four

Title: Finally he comes home, Chapter Four Word Count: 2084 Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve McGarrett x Kono Kalakaua Characters: Steve McGarrett, Kono Kalakaua, Chin Ho Kelly, Danny Williams Triggers: Pregnancy, missing presumed dead 

Kono had been back at work for a while now, her hours varied and with Eve they each took a day off in the week to cover the two days John wasn’t at Kindergarten, Kono having the Monday and Eve the Thursday. Kono loved it because it meant she still got to spend time with her baby boy and it worked well for Eve, even more as she got further into her pregnancy.  Kono had watched Steve come back like he had never been gone, it took a week but he was back running Five-0 like he hadn’t been missing for the last five years. He was living at Danny’s, using his spare room instead of being at the house with Kono and John, whenever she looked at him she saw the look in his eyes was one that made her want to reverse time.

Kono had done a week before she took two weeks leave, the tension whenever both of them stepped into the room unbearable and it left everyone around them walking on eggshells. She knew Danny and Chin made sure they were never alone together and they were never given the chance to be sent out together when a case came up. It wasn’t fair to them and the guilt grew worse the more she knew how much they trying to keep them apart. It shouldn’t have been like this, they should have been happy and now living their life now he was home; but it was the opposite and Kono felt like she was drowning again.

She spent the two weeks at home with John and when John was at kindergarten or with the one of the guys she would take a few moments to herself surfing or reading, or just anything which took her mind off her not so dead husband. Steve had asked through Danny if he could spend time with John, Kono hadn’t been able to deny him and so Danny collected John and would take him to meet his father were they would some time together. She wished she could have been there to see it, the look on John’s face as he finally spent time with Steve. Or the look on Steve’s because she knew how much he had wanted a child before he deployed and now he finally had that. John would come home with tales of swimming and football, shave ice and lunch at Kamekona’s. She felt a touch of jealousy when he came home with these stories, because she wanted to be there, she wanted to be involved, she wanted to be laughing along side John and Steve as they enjoyed their time together. She knew she couldn’t though, this was her punishment, to sit on the sidelines and watch her husband build his relationship with the son he never knew he had because of her. She would accept this punishment, but as she kept telling herself, she didn’t regret not telling him.

The atmosphere hadn’t changed when she returned to work, things were still tense and she knew something had to be done about it. Kono was sat with Chin when they watched Steve come in that morning, Danny not far behind. Kono sighed and Chin frowned. “You need to talk to him cuz.” He spoke quietly, that even and calm that always drove her up the wall. The all knowing Chin Ho Kelly.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.” Kono answered watching the brunette through the glass as he laughed with Danny who was talking animatedly, clearly a story that was important for so much enthusiasm. “He just goes silent and gets that look on his face which makes me feel like the smallest and most horrendous person in the world.” Kono sighed turning back from the glass and sinking lower into her seat.

“You did what you thought was right at the time, you can’t know whether telling him or not would have made a difference to him coming home or not, however you made the decision you thought was right and it might have taken over four years - but he’s come home.” Kono scratched at her head, couldn’t her cousin just spit it out? “You need to speak to him, you need to get the air cleared between you, if not for us, for John. Because you need to figure out if you’re going to try and make this work between you or not and if not John deserves to know now.” Of course he did. John deserved the world and if she could have given it to him she would have; but Chin was right if her and Steve were not going to work this out then they would have do something soon and get their own lives on track and if needed work out the divorce.

“You’re right, as always.” Kono sighed gripping the bars of her chair harshly as she pushed to her feet, this was a better time than any to start something. “Wish me luck.” She muttered sarcastically striding out of Chin’s office and heading for Steve’s where she had just watched him settle into his seat. She pushed open the door and then watched the humour and light fade from his eyes when he looked up and realized it was her.

“What do you want Kono, we have no case at the minute.” He tone was cool and she flinched the harsh tone of voice. No they had no case, but she should have been able to speak to him regardless if they had a case or not.

“We need to sort this out, because it not fair to anyone around us who has to put up with the tension that is here.” Kono figured there was no point in beating around the bush, he clearly wanted her gone, so she might as well spit it out. “Neither of us are going to give up being apart of this team, we means we need to have each other’s back and right now, I can’t be sure you do.” Kono snapped folding her arms firmly across her chest.

“You can’t be serious?” Steve exclaimed leaning back in his chair. “Do you really think that low of me? Do you really think I would let anything happen you regardless of what is happening in our private lives?” Steve’s comment was fair and it made Kono feel worse, because she did know that regardless of what was happening in their lives he would always have her back. She was pushing him, she knew she was pushing him to get a reaction, get some kind of emotion from him to earn herself that, because he had given her nothing over the last couple of days and she hated that.

Kono watched as Steve pushed up of his seat, his chair slamming back into the unit behind his desk, the items on the shelves rattling as she rose. “No I don’t.” She sighed. “I want to sort this, I want to put this right between us and make it right again.” Kono huffed dropping her ass into the chair opposite his desk, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands. “I know I screwed up not telling you, I know you must hate me for not telling you you’re a father and I sit with that guilt everyday, but it’s not fair for them out there to be treading on eggshells and John as well, if - if we’re not going to be together.” Kono breathed the last sentence, because maybe if he didn’t hear it he wouldn’t agree with her and say that would be the best option.

“I don’t hate you Kono.” Steve’s resigned tone had her looking up as he perched himself on the corner of his desk, his knee bumping against Kono’s forearm. “I just, it’s hard to look past the fact you kept something so big from me -” He raised his hand to stop her interruption. “I know you were doing what you thought best, and I can’t imagine how hard it’s been these last four years raising our son alone.”

“But even if you knew you would have still missed the last fours, you still wouldn’t have been in his life and he wouldn’t have known you. How would it have been fair of me to tell you that I was pregnant, in the small window we spoke no more than a few weeks after I had found out myself?” It wasn’t a whisper, but her voice was quiet as she looked up at Steve. “Why add that extra weight to your mind when you’re out there trying to fight for your life? I know you worry, I know you think of me and the team when you should be focusing what’s happening around you, if I told you and because of that something happened - I would never forgive myself.” Kono explained, it was hard putting what she felt into words and even now she wasn’t sure she quite got across how she had really felt that day.

“But I would have still known and I would have still be able to hold onto that information. You don’t understand what it would have meant to me to know that I had a son to come home too, what it would have done while I was held in a cell twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, I’m good at what I do Kono, I would be dead by now if I wasn’t.” Steve answered, his tone now more amused than anything. “I want to try and make us work, it’s going to take time, but I still love you, I think I will always love you, you just gotta give me time ʻO kaʻu wahine, kaʻu mea aloha.” Kono’s heart flipped and rolled at name he used for her. Hearing it fall from his lips again meant everything to her and it gave her hope, hope that they would eventually sort things out.

“I’m sorry, if I could change it I would, I would.” She repeated, realizing now that actually yes, she did regret not telling Steve and the guilt was as bad as it was because she regretted not telling him she was pregnant when they spoke. She had been in denial with herself for so long that admitting to herself she had been wrong about her choices would have made her worse, would have sent her into a spiral she wasn’t sure she could ever come back up from. “I was wrong, I’m so sorry.” Her voice broke and tears betrayed her, sliding down her cheeks as she looked up Steve who moved quickly as she blinked.

He was crouched in front of her, one hand on her knee and one hand cradling her cheek, his thumb swiping the tears away. “I know.” His words were soft and his tone made Kono cry harder, he should have been harsh, he should have shouting at her telling her she was wrong, telling her she finally seeing sense. His anger she could deal with, she could work with it; but his acceptance made her hurt more, made each breath she took hurt. He pulled her close, Kono tucking her face into to the crook of his neck, she breathed deeply, the scent which was completely him evening her breath. Her arms around his shoulders, willing for it to never be over. His arms folded around her waist, his hands rubbing smoothly up and down her back as she slowly stopped crying. Even though she had stopped they stayed like they were, holding onto each other and just breathing. Kono didn’t want to release him in fear everything would go back to how it was.

“We gotta a -” The door burst open and Danny pushed in obviously not seeing Kono and Steve finally doing something to sort out their relationship. “Shit. Sorry - I’ll -” Steve cut him off, Kono felt him pulling away so she released him and sat back in the chair turning her face away from Danny so she could wiped the damp streaks from her face and put on a semblance of composure.

“It’s fine, we’re coming.” Steve answered for her, she heard the door close and when she looked to Steve who was stood beside her, there was a small smile gracing his features and his hand was extended to her. She took it like the olive branch she believed it was.

[texanredrose]

By Moonlight - The Hunted

The hunter left the dining hall, with a few kind comments to the staff, and ducked through the doorway Winter had taken, determination pinching her brow. The woman hadn’t made it very far, though, walking much slower than her stature should allow, and she turned to look at Yang over her shoulder once she noticed she was being followed.

“What do you want, Huntress?”

“Pardon the intrusion, Miss Winter-” She ignored the eye roll and disgruntled huff at the honorific. “-but it seems like you’re... not feeling well.”

The woman watched her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And what, exactly, are you attempting to imply with that accusation.”

“You’re limping, Miss Winter-”

“You needn’t refer to me every sentence; I’ll not forget who I am between addresses.” The acid from before returned, tenfold; she wasn’t family and not afforded the mercy of remorse for the bluntness. “If you must know, I experienced a rare bout of clumsiness this morning and fell against my bedside table.” Winter turned, continuing the way she was heading. “I’m not sure what bearing that has on why you’re here but now you know. Be on your way.”

Yang pursed her lips, watching the woman's stiff posture and the slight annoyance hunching her shoulders, then pressed forward. "Someone needs to look at it." 

"I'll have no one else mock my clumsiness, thank you." Winter scoffed, turning to continue down the hall. "A scratch from a stumble is hardly cause to alert the castle healer." 

"It could get infected or worse." The hunter followed a few steps behind, watching the noble's unsteady gait. To most, it would hardly be noticeable, but during her brief time in Atlas' capital, Yang had learned to read the royal family very well.

The King had more ambition than sense, and he walked like a man with an all consuming purpose completely unaware of the dangers around him, so absolutely possessed of his own superiority. The Queen... had more sense than care and frankly more liquor in her pinky than either. Borne in litters and chairs by servants, she couldn't possibly keep her legs beneath her, nor her wits about her. A shame, considering the stories of who the Queen used to be before her marriage. 

That left the royal children, the real masters of the castle, seeing as the King spent more time in the war room and the Queen probably didn't know where she was. The youngest- Prince Whitley- existed as the embodiment of every ill whisper peasants traded between them: spoiled, loud, and generally impaired sense of the world. His attendants constantly flocking around him, protecting him from the truth; he walked as children often do, with a certain fearlessness, but at nearly sixteen that carelessness looked more like foolishness. The middle child- Princess Weiss- was far more serious, if still lacking a proper sense of her place in the world. She wanted to do it all, rule in absolutes and eliminate grey areas, lead Atlas into a brighter future to fulfill a much different vision than her father saw. Unlike the rest of her family, Princess Weiss seemed to listen to others and take their comments to heart, not just her sister’s; Yang had to assume the ever present shadow who so often attended the Princess had something to do with the seemingly sudden disdain for the discrimination against Faunus that remained a long held tradition in Atlas. Frankly, the crown could use such an updated view, and Princess Weiss possessed the force of will to see her aims through.

That left the eldest, the disinherited former heiress apparent to the throne. Although given a prestigious position at the head of Atlas's army, what little whispers Yang had caught hinted at a terrible falling out between the King and his eldest child, but she carried herself proudly, chin tilted up in resolute defiance. Every step seemed sure, the very idea of faltering laughable, and her precarious position within the castle seemed to enforce that heavily, the King's attention only ever moving away from his maps and strategies to land heavily upon Winter. At first, Yang thought the woman bore it out of stubborn pride, but the truth became more apparent with each passing day: as long as Winter stood ready to trip up, the King watched her like a hawk, and completely missed how Princess Weiss walked further and further from the path he'd laid out for her. 

Yang had no illusions about this objection. The woman needed tending, but if she faltered, the King would declare her unfit for her position, perhaps banish her elsewhere, and his attention could turn to Weiss, who at twenty years old stood ready to assume the throne yet unprepared for the undertaking of combating her father in tandem with helping her people. Still, she couldn't allow Winter to suffer in silence; she'd been hired to bring the people of Atlas and it's royal family some manner of peace. It seemed the easiest way to do so- aside from slaying the werewolf hiding in the woods- would be to help protect Princess Weiss and keep Winter from being found out. 

"I don't need your assistance, Huntress."

Yang's hand shot out, grabbing the woman's wrist. They looked so different- one wearing furs and chain mail with all manner of weapons hanging from her belts and the other in a crisp dress uniform with glittering medals and buttons- but they shared this, a stubborn sort of pride and dedication, the mark of an elder sibling doing everything in their power for the younger ones, even if it meant hiding their own pain. 

"Yeah, well, you're getting it anyway." Her face hardened, adopting the same tone she'd used every time someone tried to bully her into accepting a lesser reward or when Ruby tried sneaking cookies after dinner when they were younger. "You're no good to anyone walking around like that, and I can at least clean the wound and patch you up. No one the wiser and we never mention it again. Deal?"

Blue eyes narrowed, shining with suspicion and... something else. "You're a persistent bastard." 

"Not my fault my folks didn't marry," she replied flippantly, nodding back the way they'd come. "Come with me now, and you'll be able to bear weight on the leg by dinner." 

She sighed. "Very well. Lead on." 

Confident the woman wouldn't slink away now that she'd gotten her to agree, Yang turned and started down the hallway, the tread of boots behind her comforting. Trying to discreetly convince her to accept help was one thing; having to drag her unwillingly would draw a bit more attention than either would like.

Silence filled the space between them until they passed a particular painting, depicting a group of knights facing off a great white wolf. She’d seen it before, finding the whole thing odd, and opted to comment on it now that she had someone’s ear. "You guys didn't waste time immortalizing something, huh?" 

"Nor twisting it." Winter spat, stopping to stare up at the rendition, eyes lingering where blood stained the beast's muzzle and painted the snow beneath it. "This blasted beast panic has some of my best soldiers on edge, fearing some infernal demon. It's done nothing but kill a few deer."

"People have gotten hurt, too," she said, a frown touching her lips as she stopped and turned towards the woman. "Though I agree that it's done hardly any harm." At the curious grunt and raised brow, she continued. "This is no ordinary beast. That being said, it should hunger for human flesh, seek out villages, howl long into the night to spread fear... this one doesn't." She rubbed at her side where the beast had swiped at her the night before. Six inch long claws... yet not one drew blood. She had a bruise, yes, but only that. "I feel like this is the most... intelligent creature I've ever hunted and I don't think it wants to hurt anyone. It... almost seems peaceful."

She kept her suspicions to herself. After facing off against it last night, she knew perhaps better than anyone that it was nothing short of a scion from one of the supposedly extinct bloodlines, a legendary beast of strength and ingenuity, a cursed soul... but this one retained enough humanity that it seemed almost too intelligent at times. Any more of a beast and it would've killed her the night before when it had the chance- but she’d expected a beast and stood a fair chance of killing it before things got that bad, loathe as she was to do that. Now, though, she had to either outsmart it or give up the fight; although the crown didn't seem too fond of it, the werewolf wasn't harming the people and there were signs the forest benefited from the beast's presence. The King’s orders had filled the forest with far too many deer and they were leaving patches of no greenery at all, turning once lush clearings into mud that did nothing to keep the river down, the banks eroding from the excess water, and the dam had burst a few months back due to the unexpected increase.

"You show an unbecoming amount of empathy for the beast you're hired to kill," Winter said, jaw tight. 

"Maybe that's a good thing." She smiled. "This is no ordinary beast; I'm no ordinary hunter.” With a chuckle, she shrugged her shoulders. “Honestly, I think driving it north, away from the royal forest, would be better than killing it. Some creatures... are too magnificent to be mounted on a wall."

"His Majesty would disagree." 

"Your father would piss his pants if he so much as caught a whiff of the wolf," Yang replied, fairly confident her comment wouldn’t be met with a reprimand of any sort, despite the intentional informality of her chosen address.

An unexpected chuckle burst from the woman's lips, proving her right. "I can't fault you there." 

"Every now and again, I make a good point." She lightly touched Winter's shoulder. "Come on. That scratch won't mend itself and I can't have you falling down and landing on any more furniture in the meantime."

"What, exactly, are you insinuating with that comment?" She tried to seem a bit annoyed at the implications but the woman was leaning on her uninjured leg heavily and winced when her posture straightened. "Nevermind. Let's just go." 

As they both turned to continue, Yang paused, noting something in the painting she hadn't noticed before: for some reason, the great white wolf was depicted with bright blue eyes instead of the glimmering gold from the night before. It might've been just the artist's affinity for whites and blues to offset the silver and reds of the knights but... in a castle where all five members of the royal family had white hair and blazing blue eyes... it seemed an odd choice. 

"Hey, Miss Winter... who painted this?" 

"Don't call me that." She snapped, then sighed. "And my sister did. She saw the beast- no doubt you've heard the story." 

Yang's eyes narrowed. The limp in Winter's right leg, the wound in the werewolf's right hindleg, and the painting... perhaps she was seeing things. 

But it certainly didn't feel like it at this point.

Yang frowned, peeling back a hastily applied bandage caked with blood to reveal an oozing wound. Between trying to stay focused on her task- bereft of the dress pants tucked into the woman's boots, she was left with on her small clothes to protect her modesty, and the injury sat high on her thigh- and the troublesome amount of blood, the experienced hunter had thoughts pinging around her head almost faster than she could grasp them, but she reached for a clean cloth to dip into the bowl of water she'd fetched. The first thing she needed to do was clean the area so she could stitch it up. 

A hiss immediately left the woman's mouth as Yang tried her best to be gentle, glancing towards Winter's face, pinched in agony. Here, lying on her side in the bed provided for the visiting hunter, the proud soldier had fallen away, brows pinching together as she'd nearly stumbled through the door. Yang had helped her move to the bed but turned her back for the undressing process, seeing as Winter had valiantly defended her ability to attend the task herself. 

Setting a hand on her hip, Yang spoke softly. "This is going to hurt a little but you'll feel better soon. Promise." 

Winter let out a short huff in response, remaining silent and keeping her gaze turned away, staring off into the distance, unseeing.

Once she'd cleaned the wound, worry turned to dread, and a small weight dropped into the bottom of her stomach. The flesh had been rent asunder, a deep gash with the sharp edges of a blade, gray marks akin to a bruise surrounding it, and thin black veins branching out. 

Silver burns and poisoning. 

Yang sighed, turning towards her bag and reaching for a little jar she carried with her everywhere, nondescript and rousing no suspicion from anyone who might be going through her things. 

"What's that?" 

"A salve for burns," she replied, keeping her voice soft. 

Winter immediately tensed. "I didn't get burned-" 

"Easy." She offered a smile, opting to continue the ruse a little longer. "It's just a friction burn. You must've been moving faster than you thought." 

Yang knew better. Humans wouldn't get a burn like that from a blade wound; it came from the silver of her dagger pressing against the skin of a werewolf. The thin black lines, proof that enough silver lingered in the wound to seep into her bloodstream, wouldn't kill her outright, but it would prevent the skin from mending. Left unattended, the wound would become infected by silver-bite, if the silver poisoning her blood hadn’t worked its way to her heart by then.

Opening the jar, she scooped out a dollop of the salve and braced herself, applying it generously to the wound. 

"Hah!" Winter jerked, curled in on herself as she tried to hold her scream in, teeth grit in agony. Although she probably wasn't aware, the points of her incisors had become sharper, along with her other teeth. "Wha-" 

"I know it hurts, but it passes swiftly." She sighed, a little tension bleeding from her shoulders. She expected Winter to take a swing at her, and wouldn’t have blamed her for it either. "Try not to squirm too much." After coating the outside, she pushed some of the salve inside the wound, watching as the grey and black receded, the silver broken down quickly into parts so small it could pass through the werewolf's veins without too much trouble. Aside from lethargy, Winter would recover quickly, and her skin already began to stitch itself back together. "There." Yang sat back, grabbing a fresh bandage and covering the wound for the time being. It wasn't necessary but it would at least keep the grease of the salve from staining any clothing, which would work best for everyone. "See? That wasn't so bad."

"Easy for you to say." Winter growled and coughed immediately after, trying her best to cover the beastial quality to her voice. "So you're a hunter and a healer? Seems at odds." 

"Really, they're not." She put the lid back on the jar and tucked it away. "Two sides to the same coin." 

"How do you possibly come to that conclusion?" Some of the heat had died from her voice, body uncurling as the burning past. 

"Healing is about maintaining the balance between life and death- mend what you can and ease the passing when it's time," Yang said, wiping her fingers off on a spare cloth. "Hunting is the same, from the other angle. End the suffering of the old, sick, and lame creatures, use their meat to feed the hungry." She chuckled. "And, when it comes to creatures who terrify and destroy, restore the peace. Most of the time, no one wants to eat the meat of a terrible creature; if it terrorizes people, they'd rather burn the remains. That’s a waste when there can be a better balance." 

"Who taught you this?" Winter drawled, seemingly tired from both the silver sapping her strength and the salve taking the rest. "Here, hunters here are taught to prize the kill. It is not an act of mercy."

For a moment, she thought about giving her usual answer. People asked her so many times- they would look at her confused, sometimes angry, because instead of bringing back a carcass, she brought back her word that a creature would cause no more harm. Yet, her word carried weight in Remnant, because she'd yet to be proven wrong; most of the time, creatures of that nature would prefer not to cross paths with humans or Faunus, and just needed a little help. Hunting, she'd found, was as much about the kill as understanding her prey, and the balance of life demanded less bloodshed sometimes. 

Instead, she gave the truth.

"From the Elders," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting her elbows on her knees. It wasn't a comfortable position with the metal of her prosthetic digging into her skin, but she'd learned not to rest her weight on her arms and the position helped her think, even if it wasn’t relaxing. "They taught me many things. Hunting and healing, navigation and bartering, respect for the land and disdain for those who would squander it, or the precious gift of life."

"So that's why you'd rather not slay this terrible beast? Because some grandmother told you to respect the life of monsters?" Winter puffed out a breath. "You'd be better off killing the beast next chance you get. Perhaps it won't be so kind next time. Perhaps it can't be." 

"The Elders are not humans or Faunus; they're werewolves," she replied, noting the way the woman's posture seemed to immediately tense, but she pressed on regardless. Her left hand rose, fingers digging into the tawny fur of one pelt draping her shoulders. "In Vale, the Elders are a council of werewolves, the pack leaders who meet with the humans and Faunus to ensure balance in our lands. They raised me to be a hunter; it's in the blood for me to seek and find, and my wanderlust was best channeled into something productive. So I learned many things, many skills, and here I am, one of the most celebrated hunters of my time." She chuckled. "And hired to hunt a werewolf. I'm not sure if I approve of the universe's sense of humor." 

"Then why wear werewolf pelts?" The woman's voice seemed cautious, as if anticipating something foul. "Seems a poor way to honor the skills they taught you." 

A flicker of anger passed through her but she shoved it aside, keeping her voice steady as her hand moved to the darker, earthy colored pelt. "These belonged to two people very important to me. They taught me more than I deserve to know." She sighed. "Werewolves mate for life, you know, but they’re supernatural creatures, with lifespans that reach beyond humans or Faunus. And eventually, they grow weary of the marching days. When I was old enough, they decided to enter their eternal sleep, but left me pieces of them." Forcing back the tears, Yang offered a small smile. "I like to think they've kept me alive several times, protecting me even though they're gone. It makes the hunts seem less lonely."

Silence settled between them, memories lingering at the back of her mind, but she couldn't quite indulge just yet. Instead, she put the pieces together; no wonder the woman had reacted so hostile towards her at the onset. Although a werewolf's pelt looked no different than a wolf's, the scent was different to a discerning nose, even after being tanned. Yang looked like she was flaunting her kills to the very one she'd been sent to hunt. A pretty poor first impression, she admitted. 

"When you say it's 'in the blood'..." Winter started slowly, still tense- ready to defend herself- but relaxing by degrees. "Are you a wolf hunting a wolf?" 

"No." Standing up, she slowly turned and leaned over the woman- the werewolf, in her human form. Closing her eyes, Yang focused, drawing forth her brief flash of anger from before and letting it consume her for a moment before her eyes shot open. 

Winter gasped, pinned in place by what she saw, eventually uttering only a single word. "Dragon."

"That's why I hunt," she said, blood red eyes with slits holding blue, her vision heightened by allowing her draconic heritage to come to the fore. "I want knowledge, skills, talents, sights, sounds. We're a... pretty greedy bunch." Closing her eyes again, she let her eyes revert to normal. "And I understand what it's like, being seen as a beast, with no concern for the mind beneath." She pulled back, coughing into her hand. "So... not to say that there's any in this room besides me... but those of us who tread the line between human and something... different. We don't have to be monsters. More often than not, we aren't. I understand that." Winter would need rest to recover her strength, and none would dare enter Yang's guest chamber without her being present after one of the servants accidentally set off one of her traps the first day. It would be a safe place for the woman to recoup her energy, so she decided to leave her and do a bit more investigating of her own. "I'm going to hunt for the werewolf tonight. I think I can convince it to... move its hunting territory a bit north. If that fails, I'll tell the King he just needs to get used to it. The werewolf isn't harming anyone who doesn't deserve it." 

Before she reached the door, Winter called out to her. "Huntress," she said, mustering her strength and pushing herself up. "If you go out seeking the beast tonight, it will kill you." 

At the threshold, Yang stopped and flashed the woman a smile. "Good. Someone has to avenge all the time I'm going to kill until then." She waved. "See you later, Miss Winter." 

Shutting the door behind her, the corners of her smile turned down, brow furrowing. She needed to find the Princess; there was more to this story than she'd been lead to believe.

Yang found Princess Weiss in the throne room, listening to the few petitioners who'd come to air their grievances. The King was busy with his charts in the war room again, leaving his heiress apparent to attend to the duties of actually governing the country, and she seemed rather pleased with the turn of events. A small smile on her lips as she listened to a group of farmers begging to keep their lands, their pleas brought to a halt by a single raised hand. 

"You needn't fear. Your lands will remain your own." Her brows furrowed slightly. "All plans to expand the royal forest have been halted for now and I'm quite certain they will not come to pass." She tilted her head, the circlet sitting on her brows glinting in the light. "But tell me, please- have you any sightings of wolves or missing livestock recently?" 

"No, Your Highness." The leader bowed his head. "We've not seen the terrible beast of the woods nor any like it. Our herds are safe." 

"I'm pleased to hear that." Princess Weiss smiled, and given the curious looks it earned her, that had to be a rare event indeed. "Do you line your fields with anything to deter the beast?" 

"Just wolfsbane, Your Highness, to keep the mountain packs at bay." 

Yang smirked from her spot among the onlookers. Such a deceptive name for such a helpful little plant; rather than poisoning werewolves, wolfsbane, among other things, acted as the base for the healing salve that sapped away silver. But better for others to think it might help them, so plenty would be available when it was needed. 

"I do not wish for your fields to be compromised, but I will reward you handsomely for any wolfsbane you're willing to part with, Sir," the Princess said. "If we can ring the forest with it, perhaps we can restrict the beast's movements."

"We... do have some extra, Your Highness." He turned, looking at his companions, all of whom seemed to gesture for him to provide a relatively low price. "Three silver for a bushel?" 

Her brow twitched; most places would charge triple that at least. And the Princess seemed to know it, too.

"Three gold it is. Captain." She turned her attention to a tall redhead standing before her throne with a helmet tucked under one arm. "Take a retinue of guards with you and fetch the wolfsbane." 

Yang watched, closely, the way Her Highness said those words, how she carried herself as she delivered them. In that moment, Yang felt absolute certain of one thing: Princess Weiss had every intention of paying the promised price... and not much else. Looking around, she found the Princess' erstwhile attendant lingering just behind the throne, in the shadows cast by deep blue curtains framing the gaudy thing. Moving through the crowd, Yang snuck her way around until her path was intercepted by the Faunus in question. 

"You can't speak with Her Highness right now." Amber eyes shone with both suspicion and amusement. "Your attempts at being subtle aren't exactly working, by the way." 

"Maybe I was trying to talk to you?" She flashed a quick smile. "I don't think I ever caught your name before-"

"Blake." She glanced over her shoulder as Princess Weiss continued hearing petitions. "And I'll ask you to keep it brief. Her Highness will be done soon and she has a very tight schedule." 

Yang crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, wouldn't want to put a dent in makeout time, right?" As a brief flash of panic layered beneath a blush passed over the Faunus' expression, she chuckled. "Look, keeping secrets around someone who is paid to hunt things down is kinda pointless. And, really, I don't care." Yang's expression smoothed out. "She knows that wolfsbane doesn't do anything to wolves, right? Not even direwolves?" 

"I believe she does but Her Highness is doing what must be done to protect her people." 

The hunter hummed, nodding slightly. "Okay. And how long has the crown considered expanding the royal forest?" 

"About five years ago, the King began... accepting donations of land from the people of Atlas." Blake kept an impressively straight face through those words, the feline ears atop her head twitching only slightly. "But expansions stopped once the beast appeared. It's not safe for the... workers to break up the farmlands and plant the trees."

"And that was right around the time Princess Weiss became heiress apparent, right?" 

"Yes... I'm not sure what bearing that has on anything, though." Blake once again glanced back at the throne. "They're completely unrelated events-" 

"I'm not so sure about that." Yang lowered her voice. "In fact, I think they're directly related." 

They watched each other for a moment before the Faunus stepped forward. "Her Highness is not the beast you seek and she didn't unleash it." 

"I know the first part," she said. "It's the second part in trying to figure out. Because, call me simple, but I'm having a hard time understanding why the King would turn his own child into a werewolf, and then hire someone to kill her." 

"Weiss hired you, for one." A smirk curled Blake's lips, head tilting. "Because she seemed rather adamant that you could figure out the answer to that, for another." 

"So she wasn't expecting me to kill a werewolf on the first try?" Yang had almost half a mind to be insulted. 

"She didn't believe anyone could kill her sister on the first try." 

"... fair." She nodded. "Pretty sure she would've got me a few times, too, if I'd been a little slower." A furrow came to her brows. "So... I guess the obvious questions are: what's with the secrecy, why not ask her, and is there a particular reason she seems rather intent on killing me?"

Blake looked around, confirming no one thought to pay the apparent handmaiden and hunter any mind, and then nodded further towards the shadows. 

"In order: because the King both wants Winter dead for some reason and refuses to publicly denounce her since it would tarnish his image and he's dealt with enough backlash over removing her as heiress to the throne- no offense to Weiss, but Winter's pragmatism served her well. The people and the soldiers loved her and the nobles respected her. As for asking her, she's been a bit... impossible to deal with the past few months. She doesn't want to talk about anything that ins’t strictly business. And the last... your guess is as good as mine." Her ears laid back. "Weiss has been busy, Winter's absolutely avoided her at every turn, and she won't look me in the eye much less answer any question I ask. She's never been very good at explaining her emotions or motivation." Under her breath, she muttered. "It runs in the family."

Yang nodded slowly and sighed, tapping a finger against her bicep. "Figured as much." 

Her ears perked up. "So you've got a plan?" 

"I didn't say that!" She chuckled, turning on her heel and heading towards the nearest exist. "Thanks for the help." 

"Wait, Yang." She looked back at the Faunus. "Weiss believes you can save Winter. Can you?" 

"No," she replied with a shrug. "Because she doesn't need saving. She just needs a little help." 

Blake sighed. "Then your job just got a lot harder." 

Stepping out of the throne room, she allowed her feet to wander while her mind raced. There were only a few ways to turn someone from human to werewolf, and eliminating a bite seemed rather easy, since it would be the most unpredictable method and not one the King would be likely to employ. The other ways ranged from downright insidious to extremely... painful... and some were even both.

She came to a stop in front of the painting, eyes roving over the strokes, the scene; she'd already asked around, finding no other such paintings on display created by the Princess' own hand, and the King absolutely detested it according to whispers but may not even know it existed according to others. It had to be special for reasons, something hidden in the composure, in the gleam of the armor of the leaves being whipped by the wind, the comparatively small size of claws and fangs while the swords looked much larger than a man could comfortably wield, the white snow on the ground and the red of fresh blood staining it beside the broken wine bottle- 

Ah. 

"So that's how he did it." This wasn't a painting of the first night the werewolf was found out. It was the night she was turned. 

Yang’s frown deepened, a curse falling from her lips as she turned and headed towards the kitchens. Now, she at least had an idea... but not a lot of faith in its execution. 

Eh. She'd done more with less.

[mirajens]

boyfriend material

pairing: yukino/rogue/sting rating: t genre: humor found on ff.n and ao3 follow up to this

Which boyfriend do you take home to meet the parents when you have two?

"You what!"

Yukino almost winced at the twin exclamations of disbelief. Sting and Rogue stood before her wearing not much but the aggravation on their faces which would have been intimidating were she not accustomed to either state of undress or irritability. She twisted the hem of her dress and stared at the space where their shoulders touched. "It's not like I lied!" she said in her defense.

"You told your family," Rogue inhaled and held it until it swelled in his lungs. His face was still red. "That you have a boyfriend."

"Technically, I do." She replied, her voice small.

"Technically, you have two boyfriends." Sting pointed out. He looked less exasperated than their notoriously high blood pressure Rogue so it was him that Yukino looked to.

"Well, my family doesn't want to hear that. So they don't need to know." Conservative Catholic parents tended not to understand polyamory or any of its complex subcultures and what people did not understand, they vilified. Yukino would much rather avoid that. Nothing turned family gathering unpleasant faster than sex talk.

"Now you want one of us to go meet your parents?" Rogue's tart tone was back, just a little bit discomforting. "And just pretend the one who's not coming doesn't exist?"

Sting lit up like a bulb, his silly smile chasing warmth into Yukino's chest cavity. "I'm boyfriend material, right, Yukino? Straight girls ask me out all the time! I'll go with you. And besides," he snickered as his gaze slid towards Rogue. "Solano hates this guy."

At the reminder, Rogue colored and Yukino chuckled. "Supposing Sting does go with you, what does that make me? Chopped liver?"

"Very kind, considerate liver?" Yukino tried. Obviously things were not as grim as they initially seemed since Sting was smiling now. If it was two against one and the two happened to have the most adorable sets of puppy dog eyes, it probably wouldn't take much more.

"Nice try. I'll be going with you, Solano be damned. Sting doesn't make a very convincing straight person." Rogue slapped a hand on Sting's back. "No offense."

Yukino exhaled. It didn't matter much to her who came with her as long as one did. She never had any patience for her family's obsession about her love life since she couldn't imagine her father understanding how a sweet girl like her could have two boyfriends who were sort of full blown gay or how asexuality worked because "normal" girls her age answered to the call of lust. No, these things were best kept away from the Agria home. Yukino couldn't stand the idea of her family misunderstanding her sexuality and saying something that could hurt her. She was quite easily hurt, too.

"That works out. Sting might say something that would destroy all this effort." At Sting's sound of protest, Yukino grinned sheepishly. "No offense."

Sting huffed. "I don't think you guys understand this 'no offense' thing."

Yukino simpered, trying to be empathetic. "I am sorry we have to hide, but you know people don't really understand." And you know I really don't like explaining because I don't owe anyone an excuse for being myself.

The boys' features softened on queue. They had such fierce feelings for their girlfriend and hated seeing her so upset. "Now don't start acting like you're imposing on us. We love you." It was Rogue who spoke, and his easy confession which almost always never came so easy startled Yukino and Sting. Now it was them who shared expressions, both of their mouths forming a small O.

"He truly is boyfriend material," Sting remarked with an awed voice, so silly of him, just to thin out the air. It felt like a victory when Yukino smiled.

"We'll just have to make sure you don't grab my boob in front of my sister and you'll be good."

Rogue's neck went red. "How many times do I have to tell you it was an accident!"

So now, imagine the classic boyfriend-about-to-meet-the-family scenario straight out of every heterosexual romcom: Rogue in a dark dress shirt that Yukino had to properly iron for him, barely concealing his fidget and Yukino fussing with his collar beneath his outercoat since he somehow managed to rumple it during the fifty minute drive from their dorms.

"Stop, stop." Rogue hissed as his hands swat at Yukino's fingers buttoning up the shirt to the last suffocating button. "Chill out or this will be over before it begins."

Yukino clenched her hands into fists at her side. "That doesn't make me any less nervous, you know."

"Please, let's just get this over with. I'm already too hetlagged and its barely 12." Rogue began rapping the knuckles of his longest fingers on the door.

And of course it was Solano who answered. God was just a really funny dude that way.

The older Agria sister didn't even greet her beloved sister before aiming her biting look at Rogue. "I was hoping it was that blond one you hooked up with, sis."

Rogue almost scoffed and said 'fat chance' but he remained silent against the abuse. This was exactly why he was the better option than Sting. He had so much more self-control and a lesser likeliness to drag all the cats out of the bags. "It's nice to see you as well, Solano." He said back tartly. And since the farce wasn't progressing, he put a hand on Yukino's lower back to urge her forward.

Yukino grinned at her sister instead of saying anything and pushed inside. The door closed behind Rogue.

"Where are mom and dad?" Yukino asked as she removed her jacket.

"They're just about done cooking." Solano, in a rare show of propriety, reached out to take her sister's coat, then turned to Rogue and cocked a brow, as if waiting for his.

Always, always, always missing cues with his girlfriend's unnerving sister, Rogue jerkily shrugged out of his parka and handed it over with a low thanks. Solano wasn't an easily tempered creature and many times Rogue knew not if she was going to laugh at something he'd say or stick a fork in his neck for it. He'd always tread softly around her even before she'd witnessed the infamous moment that Rogue accidentally grabbed Yukino's breast. Sting had laughed at that but wasn't that easy for himꟷ Sting didn't have to do a safety sweep of his apartment every time he came home.

"Well, come on, lovebirds. Dinner shall be served."

Mother and Father Agria were all too pleased to meet the first ever boy that their baby brought home.

"We'd been worrying, you know," started Yukino's mother as she piled on marble potatoes, chicken and asparagus on Rogue's plate. Rogue balanced eye contact with too much at once: Yukino's father, Yukino's mother, the easily overflowing herbed gravy on his chicken, Solano's icy look and Yukino's uneasy one. "She never showed an interest in boys. We were starting to think she was, uh, one of those les-beans."

"Mom, honestly," Yukino just barely resisted rolling her eyes.

"And you're the first one she brought to meet us." Yukino's dad stated cheerfully with a raised glass. "Now, Solano has brought a lot of boyfriends home. And" he continued hastily, just before Solano could gripe, "There's nothing wrong with that, darling. You're a woman capable of making your own choices and I did like some of them. I just wish they'd stay around, you know? I really liked that Jellal fellow. The engineer, right?"

Solano scoffed. At twenty-five, she still managed to look like a sulky teenager as she stabbed at her carrots. "I told you, he wasn't my boyfriend. He was my lab partner and you just made him sit down for dinner. That's ways away from bringing someone home."

"I thought you two suited each other." The older man said with a sniff.

"Did you get that impression between the first and fiftieth time he mentioned his girlfriend? Dr Firecrotch with a PhD in Renaissance Warfare?"

"All right, you two, don't get snippy." Just like that, Mother Agria put the kibosh on a steadily rising tension. "We don't want to look bad in front of our guest."

"Don't worry about it, Mrs Agria." Rogue, in an effort to avoid more eye contact, stared intensely at the potato his dinner knife was splitting in half. Baby, he could hear Sting sneer in his mind. "Your home is lovely." That seemed like a nice, heterosexual thing to say. They said shit about lovely homes and good scotch and great gravy. Oh, he should comment on the gravy. "This gravy is great. It reminds me of what my mom used to make."

Yukino stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. Oh, right. He'd never met his mother. Rogue shrugged at her, as if by that action he could relay the panicked message of sorry im just trying to speak like a straight person!

To which Yukino's glare deepened. Well, stop it. You sound stupid, it seemed to say.

"Oh, thank you, sweet boy." Mrs Agria chirped, and to show her appreciation, dumped more food into Rogue's plate, much to his dread. He could never eat well in tense situations.

"Ah, mom, not so much. Rogue… takes medicine. He can't eat too much." Yukino finished lamely. It dawned on her how dangerous it was to say lies that have not been preplanned. Rogue's annoyed look confirmed her newfangled sentiments.

"Medicine for what?" Mr Agria said from the head of the table, in the tone of a man suspicious of drugs.

"Ah. Uhh…" Rogue could feel Solano's irritated stare despite not seeing her face. "I'm, uh, Midichloric?" Yeah, real nice, dumbass. Tell them you can Force control the cutlery next. "Uh, it's something or other in my blood. Kind of like anemia."

The Agrias looked confused and were all in telepathic agreement that any medical conditions were too delicate to be discussed in the dinner table. Yukino looked mortified.

They were all saved from furthering the conversation by loud banging against the front door.

"Yukino! I know you're in there! I've come to fight for your hand!"

Rogue began to choke on the bite of chicken that had lodged itself in his throat. Yukino's face made a play on several different emotions before settling on astonishment. The other Agrias exchanged what was not the first look of confusion tonight.

"What on earth?" Mr Agria began, before pounding on the door cut him off.

"YUKINO! It is I, Sting! Let me in and face the emotions I have for you!"

Mrs Agria looked apprehensive before deciding to open the door. Not long after, Sting came into view (not after a noisy detour into the kitchen he mistook for the dining room). He found his girlfriend slapping a hand on Rogue's back.

"Rogue, you bastard! Unhand my woman or you will have these fists!"

Teary-eyed from the near death experience a la chicken, Rogue aimed a bark-peeling glare at his boyfriend. "You stupid little-"

"What is going on here?" Mr Agria boomed from the head of the table, having had enough of the puzzled glances he exchanged with his wife and eldest.

"Hello, Agrias. I am Sting. Rightful lover of your fair Yukino." Despite the odd speech he seemed to adopt (and Yukino could only guess that while Rogue based his heterosexual persona from whatever CW Prep School Bullshit he saw on TV, Sting assumed his from period dramas), he sat down on the vacant chair beside Rogue, an innocuous look on him. "The feast looks amazing."

"Please, help yourself." Mrs Agria offered instead of the what is going on? that she wanted to say.

"Lover?" said Mr Agria this time.

"What the fuck?" said Solano. "You have two boyfriends, Yukino?"

"No!" Yukino shrieked, panicked at hearing the words she never wanted any of her family to utter.

"I'm the boyfriend!" Rogue said, exasperation clear on his face, all of it directed at Sting who had begun to help himself to the food.

"I've come to fight you for her. You don't deserve sweet Yukino." Sting countered.

"So you're two-timing them?" Solano said. "Way to go, sister. Who knew you had it in you?"

"No you don't get it-"

Mrs Agria looked pleased as she aimed a pointed look at her husband. "Oh, honey, and here we were all worried about Yukino never having a boyfriend. Now she has two."

Mr Agria nodded.

"There were a dozen men fighting for Yukino when we began. Rogue and I eliminated the competition. By combat." Sting volunteered. When Rogue and Yukino gave him exaggerated looks that angrily suggested he shut the fuck up, Sting sent them a subtle thumbs up.

"Oh, is that right?"

"Sting's joking, mom." Yukino cut in before Sting could say anything else. This was bad. This was so bad. They didn't plan all the lies out and one of them might say something incriminating. "I think we have to go now, mom, dad. Sorry. Rogue has to be home. Uh, for his medicine. You know, the mitochondria thing-"

"Midicloric," Rogue corrected, not helpfully, by the fed up look Yukino sent his way.

"Isn't that from Star W-" Sting began to say. Rogue slapped a hand over his mouth.

"We don't want to ruin lunch with my gruesome diagnosis, do we?" Rogue said before laughing a fake, strained laugh.

"Yes, so we really have to go." Yukino started to rise, pushing her chair back.

Sting licked at Rogue's palm before Rogue drew it away, disgusted. "But I haven't even started eating yet."

"We can have McDonald's on the way back to school." Rogue said through gritted teeth. He rose, same as Yukino, dragging Sting up by the collar of his shirt. "The food was really good, sir, ma'am. And it was nice to meet you."

"I'm sorry, mom, we'll come back some other time, when Rogue is well." Yukino already started inching towards the doorway, hoping Sting wouldn't say anything else and trying to tell both boys to move faster by telepathy.

"Nice meeting you, Agrias!" Sting called out before Rogue's hold on his shirt choked him and he was dragged out of the room.

The front door sounded and the remaining three occupants of the dining table listened to an inaudible but loud argument as Yukino, Sting and Rogue got into the car.

When the car sped away, Mr Agria finally piped up again. "What did the boy say he was sick with again?"

"It sounded serious," said Mrs Agria. "But anyway, I can't wait to tell Angela. She was always bragging about how many suitors her daughter has."

"Angela? From church?"

"And you gave me grief for dating around. Yukino has two boyfriends, dad."

"I said I didn't mind the quantity, just the quality."

"I can't believe you, Sting! That was the most irresponsible thing you've done to date." Yukino huffed hard enough to send her bangs flying. "Now my parents think I'm dating two men!"

"Well, you are!" Sting cried defensively. "At least they seemed excited."

From the passenger seat, Rogue shook his head. "That's not the point. You could have made things very bad for Yukino. We had a plan, Sting."

"Oh yeah? Did that plan include you being terminally ill with Jedi Powers?"

Rogue sputtered. "That was not my fault!"

"You could have come up with an actual disease, okay?" Yukino said.

"Oh, sure, I'll prepare a better list of serious ailments just in case you randomly decide to tell people that I have time-sensitive dosages."

"Meeting the parents seems like a lot of work." Sting remarked.

"Maybe we can scale back on the lies for Christmas," Yukino suggested.

"Maybe you can pretend to be single for Christmas," Rogue muttered. He could feel a headache throb behind his eyes.

[captainoftherollyjoger]

The Eye of the Storm: Chapter 8

Prologue : Chapter One : Chapter Two : Chapter Three : Chapter Four : Chapter Five : Chapter Six : Chapter Seven

Ao3

 Emma woke up, Killian was no longer in the shelter, and the sun was just breaking through the holes in the cover. She hadn't slept that well in a long time, even if she had a few disturbances in the night. She stretched and got up to find him. He was huddled over a small fire and the sound of crackling wood filled her ears. She sat on the log opposite him, but he still hadn't looked up at her.

 “Breakfast?” He asked, then passed her half a rabbit. “Best I could find.” He mumbled. What was wrong with him? Was he being shy? “I figured we should get a nice early start, looking over the charts, we should have to camp one more night then reach it by tomorrow lunch.”

 “Sounds like a plan.” She tucked into her rabbit and ignored his peculiar behaviour. “Did you sleep well?”

 “Aye, lass.”

 “We should have time to build two shelters tonight.” He looked at her confused.

 “Did you not like sharing with me?” He looked offended.

 “No, of course I did, Hook. It's just, someone kept disturbing me in the night and we need all the strength we can get.” He turned pink.

 “Well, maybe tonight I could tone it down… a bit. But if I remember correctly, you were just as bad.”

 “It was nice to be close to someone who wants to be with me and not just because I’m a princess.”

 “I always forget you are. You suit being a pirate so much better.” He smirked. He chucked sand on the fire and offered Emma some water. “I think that's enough chatting, we should head off.” She agreed.

 After they had destroyed the shelter, they walked through the path they had already cut down. They chatted amicably about their lives before they met, which they had never really done before. He told her of great lands and she told him of royal life and being a troublesome child. The tall grasses and bushes made a barrier and it was time to continue hacking away. Emma drew her sword and he took it from her.

 “Let me, love. You did most of it yesterday.”

 “No, it's fine. It makes me stronger.”

 “I think you're strong enough, love. I’ll do it.”

 “Jones.”

 “Princess.”

 “Don't call me that.”

 “Let me cut the forest down.”

 “So, yesterday we argued about who was doing the cutting and now we're arguing about who’s not doing the cutting?”

 “That's married life for you, love.” He cocked his head to the side and studied her.

 “You’re cute when you do that.” She smiled and moved closer. “Kiss me.” He did as he was told, Emma reached for his hand and took her sword back. “You’re such an idiot, love. ” She mimicked. “I’ll start then you can take over.

 “You’re a damn vixen.”

 The day was hotter than the previous, but they had to use their water sparingly. Both were suffering from headaches, but they had to put up with it.

 “Swan, we should rest whilst the sun is at it’s highest point. There’s no point wasting all our energy on this.” He plonked himself down on a rock and threw off his coat. “This infernal coat, it’s both a curse and a blessing.” She sat next to him and leant forward.

 “I can’t imagine how hot you must be. I’m sweating in this. Wait… do you hear that?”

 “Hear what?”

 “There’s a small stream nearby. We should take a look, Hook. Refill our bottles.” She said standing up, he stood with her and took her arm.

 “Call me Killian, darling. Please.” She nodded and smiled, but gave him a curious look. “It’s nothing serious, I just prefer my real name.”

 “Okay, Killian. Let’s go and find this stream.”

 He followed Emma, who followed the sound of the running water, many times he tried to speak but she just shushed him. The streams led to a small, flowing river, which they continued to follow. Past some trees they came out to a large clearing and a body of water, she filled all their bottles and joined him sitting on the pebble beach.

 “You really know what you’re doing, don’t you?” He smiled, taking a gulp of water. “I’m impressed, really.”

 “Well, I’ve clearly been well taught by my father, who had a few words to say about you before I even left on this journey. I can’t wait to see him again.”

 “Your father knew me?”

 “Of you. I have to say he was quite correct. Mind you, he always is.”

 “What did he say?”

 “That’s between a daughter and her father.” She smirked.

 “Fine, you keep your secrets.” He got up and took off his shirt.

 “What are you doing?”

 “Swan, it’s boiling, I’m going for a dip.” His pants were next to follow, thankfully he had underwear on. He went straight into the water and dipped his head under. “Swan! This is so refreshing, come in.” He called.

 “No thanks.”

 “Come on, Emma. It’s nice. You’ll like it.” She rolled her eyes and sat back, she closed them and settled under the sun. The sound of Killian splashing about made her smile inside, he was showing a completely different side of himself. Her sun was covered. “Swan. You have to go in there.” Killian was towering above her when she opened her eyes, he was in nothing but his underwear.

 “Why? I can admire you perfectly from here.” She smirked. “And I have to say, looking good, captain.”

 “I know I look good, why don’t you let me see if you look just as good?”

 “You’re such a flirt, a few kisses and a wedding and you think that gives you the right to see me in little clothing. Bad form as you like to say.” He sat next to her, his skin was glimmering in the sun due to the water and his hair stuck to his forehead, which gave him a boyish look.

 “Well, as husband and wife, I think there’s definitely room for that.” He gave her a lazy smile and she just rolled her eyes. They sat in quiet, and he eventually drifted off. That gave her the chance for a cool down herself, she wanted to join him earlier, but the distraction would have been too much. She removed her clothes apart from her own underwear, hopefully he would still be asleep by the time she was out, then walked down to the water. It was refreshing and the water was crystal clear, she stretched her muscles by swimming up and down, she swam on her back until strong arms gripped her.

 “Mmm, so decided to take my advice?” He was touching the bottom of the lake, they were in a shallower area, but she couldn’t reach. He was holding her around her waist and snuggled his nose into her neck. She rolled her eyes, but didn’t pull away.

 “If you don’t mind, I was swimming here.”

 “Apologies.” He let go and she faced him whilst treading water. He dipped his shoulders under. “This is lovely, I’m glad we found it. Well, you.” He pulled her back in and she wrapped her legs around his waist. It saved her energy, at least that’s what she told herself.

 “We should really get going soon.” Her arms went around his neck.

 “Ten more minutes. I haven’t had a nude woman wrapped around me in-”

 “Don’t finish that, I don’t want to know.”

 “Jealous, Swan?”

 “Of who? The women you had to pay? Sure.”

 “Who says I paid them?”

 “We need to go.” She let go of him and swam back to the shore, they waited until they dried and then headed on their way feeling a lot more refreshed.

 “Swan, it’s getting late now. Maybe we should set up camp.”

 “Not much further now, Killian. The more we get done tonight, the less we travel tomorrow. We can find your jewel and then get me home. You can live happily with your brother and I can see my parents again.”

 “You still intend to go back?” He asked, he hadn’t thought about her leaving anymore.

 “Of course I do. It’s my family. We’ll have to sort out this whole marriage palaver and such, but since we haven’t exactly consummated it, we might be okay-”

 “You don’t want to be married?”

 “What kind of marriage would it be? A princess and a pirate? I’m stuck ruling a kingdom, and you’ll be sailing the high seas. Great marriage.”

 “You don’t like me?”

 “Of course I like you. But I have to rule the kingdom, and I don’t expect you to give up the sea. I’ve seen the way you look at her, no woman will ever have your heart like the sea will.”

 “Maybe someone’s starting to.” He looked down and scratched his neck. “We should set up camp.” He started building a shelter and she soon joined in, once they had finished, he started on another.

 “What are you doing?”

 “Building two shelters.”

 “Why?”

 “Because you don’t want to be together, why would I put myself in a situation that makes me like you more, when you’re leaving anyway.”

 “Hook.”

 “It’s Killian!”

 “Killian. I didn’t realise how strongly you felt.”

 “I don’t, I just thought there was a chance, but I get it. There isn’t. You’re a fancy princess, you can go off playing kings and queens and I’ll stick to the good life of countless women, and pillaging.”

 “Stop it.”

 “What’s wrong, Swan. You gone soft? Forgot what I was really like?”

 “Stop it! Stop doing this, stop being an utter dick! People might like you more if you don’t be an arsehole to them. It’s surprisingly easy.”

 “Sorry, sweetheart, but not everyone has been at my beck and call all my life. I don’t have countless servants ready to braid my hair.”

  “You know full well that’s not the kind of princess I am. You know I worked hard to become a fighter, I dealt with constant teasing and taunting from the older boys. I’ve dealt with jerks like you all my life, buttering me up, flirting. To think I actually believed for a moment you weren’t one of them.” She pulled the ring off her finger and threw it at him. “Good luck unlocking the jewel tomorrow.”

 “No, Emma. Don’t. I’m sorry.”

 “No, I’ve had enough of you. One minute you’re the loveliest guy I’ve ever met. You’re open, charming, sweet, you’re passionate about the sea and have the brightest smile I’ve ever seen, then the next you’re moody, cruel, grumpy, and have a spark in your eye which is terrifying. I never know if you want to kill me or kiss me, if you’re going to beam with pride or if you’re going to hit me with harsh words. I’m not having that. Deal with your attitude problem.”

 That night they didn’t make up. He sat by the fire drinking from his flask, the first time she had seen him do so in a few weeks. He didn’t say a single word to her after her rant. Simply turned on his heel and stalked off, he came back with another rabbit, cooked it and gave her the whole thing.

  “Eat.” She handed him some over, but he refused. “You have to eat. Stop worrying about your pride and protect your life.” He grabbed it off her begrudgingly and ripped some off.

 It was awkward silence the entire night around the fire, her finger felt empty from where the ring had been sitting, she didn’t realise how much of a comfort it was to her until it was gone and neither have searched for it. His still sat proudly on his finger. She got up and went to bed without saying goodnight to him. It felt like hours had passed and she couldn’t sleep, they’d only slept beside each other one night and she felt lonely already without him, but he was being a jerk and she wasn’t dealing with it. Emma stirred when she heard scuttling around the campfire, there was little light now and she heard whispers.

 “Where are you? Bloody hell, I can’t see anything.” What was he doing? “Ah! Found you. Sorry bout that, I upset her a bit. No need to throw you about though.” Was he talking to the ring? “Keep you safe, I can’t see her wanting you back, but you’re a nice momento.” Sentimental? He always claimed he wasn’t. She shut her eyes and the next thing she knew it was daylight again.

 Killian was already up, he had knocked down his shelter and started breakfast. Like the previous night, they didn’t speak in the morning either. It was getting ridiculous. She’d clearly hurt him, she could tell. When they were arguing she was about to tell him they could try and make it work if he felt so strongly, then he had to point out she was a princess and tried to make her sound like a spoilt one.

 “I guess this is it.” He said abruptly.

 “What?”

 “Where we part ways.”

 “We can’t do that, idiot. There’s one rowing boat and I still need you to get me back. I get you the jewel, you get me home. Our deal still stands.”

 “But… you threw the ring at me.”

 “Because I was angry with you! Married couples fight.”

 “You still want to be married to me?”

 “That all depends.”

 “On what?”

 “If you stop being an arsehole. I might consider it.”

 “What about the arrangements?”

 “Look, why don’t we get the jewel and see what happens then?”

 “Okay, love. I’ll try my best.”

 “Give me my ring.”

 “Here. But every time we fight you can’t throw it at me, I spent ages looking for it. I’m not doing it again.”

 “I know I heard you.”

[gooddame]

👑 mafia au

With many million thanks to the ever kick ass @kickassfu who has put up with my gifs for two days and even read this over out of the kindness of her heart!

Thank you for being so wonderful and giving a damn about my writing when even I don’t.

Also you’re an amazing writer and I love you.

Please enjoy!

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Caroline huffed at the rain coming down on the crowd thatsurrounded her probably ruining her blowout and her very, expensive Parisianshoes but she didn’t move. It was against orders. Even now she rolled her eyesat the image of Stefan waving her favorite gun in her face threatening to shoother with it if she didn’t follow through. Pulling her umbrella out she tried to look as inconspicuous as possiblewhich was hard for a girl with her looks.

No, she wasn’t conceited it was just a given. Carolineprobably cursed her looks more than half the time but they got her further intothe fold of her criminal family than running the books ever could. Being borninto the mafia only got you so far that much she knew being born into theForbes legacy, the rest a girl had to work for.

She was groomed to be the perfect mob wife, loving gems ofevery color, knowing who and when to strike but Caroline fought to be more thana pretty face. Caroline was on her own to prove she could get a hit no onecould get, Silas, her father’s one true enemy, he had been such an easy readand her being a woman, he never suspected her. Misogynistic bastard.

In thislife you were in deep or you were out in the cold but either way it was betterthan dead cold and sometimes buried. She had even managed to talk him into hertrunk before she shot him, two in the skull; Caroline had preened shutting theboot of the car and driving home. When everyone had seen what she’d donethey had celebrated until four in the morning and honestly Caroline didn’tremember half of it all she remembered was that she had slept with him, for thefirst time that night.

With her head bowedlow she smirked at the memory as she watched waiting for her mark knowing thisis where he would be having kept tabs on him subtlety all this time. It wasn’ther first kill but it was the first she’d feel bad about. He’d been a good layonce when she was young and eager but time had shown its pretty colors to thepair of them and his time was up.

They had sent her expecting results, Caroline always gaveresults, but she suspected they were testing her. Her loyalty, again, as ifKlaus Mikaelson had anything to do with her loyalty to the family she sneeredwatching the windows as she saw movement inside of the brick building she waswatching. It all seemed black and white to them and to them it probably was andit should’ve been to her too.

Klaus had left, joined a rival gang and mysteriously workedhis way up a lot faster than she had, done a lot more killing than Carolinewould care for having grown up with these guys. That’s where she knew she wasstill a little too green, these bastards wouldn’t hesitate to kill her butKlaus always would and her family was counting on that. The building’s dooropened, the old bell’s sound alerting her to him drawing her away from her reminiscing.

He hadn’t noticed her but she would have to be carefultailing him as he traveled on foot switching sidewalks and back roads in casehe was being followed. Klaus would always catch her when she was sneaking up onhim in the compound pulling her into rooms they shouldn’t be in to play. Shemust have been caught up in thinking about these moments too much because he’dwalked her right into a dead end.

He turned pulling a weapon from his jacket as he did pausingas he spotted her face under the umbrella, “Bugger, Caroline, you might havefrightened me to death,” he uttered in relief.

“That was kind of the point,” she replied in kind treadingcloser losing her umbrella as he drops his weapon and she lifts hers watchinghis eyes flicker from her face to her gun.

“So they sent you,” he said betrayal hidden in his tone ashe drops his only defense on the ground just like they had all expected him to.

“I’m sorry,” Caroline replied as she cocks her gun shootinghim just near his heart watching him tumble to the cold wet ground clutching athis chest.

“You know I actually believe you this time,” he murmured ina weakening tone as she rushes to his side, “Seems fitting though. This iswhere you’d shoot me.”

She laughed but it was dry, as she holds him on her lapholding his hand to his chest thinking maybe he won’t die, “Here in the heartor at a dead end?”

“Both,” he breathed his eyes slowly closing as he clings toher, “If you would have just come with me,” he tried again but blood flows fromhis mouth.

“Good job Caroline,” Damon said appearing at the end of theroad, smug as ever applauding her as Klaus lays dying in her arms.

“Funny, I don’t even need to call him closer, he comes likea good puppy,” she muttered just under her breath so only Klaus can hear her.

“You’re right, Sweetheart,” Klaus murmured as he reaches forhis own gun nearby where he dropped it shooting the Salvatore before he couldget another step in.

Another shot resounded in the air and Damon fell to the groundfatally wounded as Klaus ripped open his shirt, “Bloody blanks hurt,” hemuttered pulling the bullet from his vest.

Caroline laughs, “Probably from the force of impact,” she saidkissing him chastely, something she hadn’t done in years. “Come on, we can’tleave him out here exposed.”

“I’m wounded,” Klaus pouted pulling Caroline in for a properkiss that was long overdue and lasted longer than both might have cared toadmit after years of being apart.

When she first caught wind of this scheme Klaus was alreadyaware of it, it seemed Tyler had been bragging about it in some bar not toolong before Caroline had found out. ‘A lucky break’, he had called it when shehad used her burner phone and dialed the number she swore she would never need.His voice, familiar and altogether strange had Caroline switching sides andgoing against her own family.

They talked almost every night, plotting out just what wouldhappen, leaving nothing to chance so sure they would send her to kill him.Caroline had been proven right just three days ago before she had been sent toBoston where they knew Klaus would be alone. Everything went according to plan,everything but the residual feelings that had been exposed by the pair of themwhen she shot him. She tried to chalk it up to playing the part perfectly asthey dumped Damon with a cleaning crew he knew. Her family by now had gottenwind of what she had done and Stefan would no doubt be keeping her gun if onlyto kill her with it one day and Caroline was planning on making it very hardfor him to do.

Klaus had said she wouldn’t have to move up in ranks withhim, that she would be at his side though he hadn’t gone into detail about whatthat would entail. Caroline had made it clear that she wouldn’t be a side piecefor him or any of his men, and Klaus had vehemently agreed. As the day grewlonger Caroline could only think about what Klaus had planned for her. What hernew boss had in store for her and unfortunately they were the same man.

The car had stopped moments only  ago as she drowned in her thoughts as shevaguely realized that Klaus already on his way out of the vehicle when heducked his head back in asking, “Are you alright?” his eyes holding hers so shewouldn’t lie to him.

“Big changes, that’s all,” she uttered undoing her seat beltto join him knowing the pressure had doubled on their backs just by being seentogether.

Caroline had to prove she was loyal now; it wouldn’t beenough for everyone he worked with that Klaus believed in her. Still when she stoodup on the sidewalk pretending not to be surprised when he held her hand withouta second thought Caroline knew she had made as right a choice as anyone couldin this life. Following Klaus into the dark old building she hoped it wasn’t toher death knowing this place wasn’t his main headquarters and she would have towait to get back home, where ever that was now.

“Where are we?” she asked hesitantly as they climbed up thestairs of the building wishing she had worn more comfortable shoes for this dayespecially since she would probably be interrogated in a bit.

“My dwelling, no one would ever think to find a mafia leaderhere,” Klaus replied easily surprising her, something he must have noticed,“Tomorrow we go home.” He said almost reading her mind.

“Klaus,” she asked stopping short wanting to ask what hisintentions were but unable to, “Never mind,” she said as they climbed up thethird staircase and Caroline pulled off her shoes hearing him chuckle.

“Just in here Love,” he said unlocking the door as shecaught up with him, “It’s not much but there’s a couch which I’ll take and abed for you.”

Caroline’s face didn’t hide the fact that she wasdisappointed that much was evident by his confident smirk as Caroline turnedaround trying to hide the fact that he had gotten to her. She felt cold, herumbrella in the back of his car lying on the seat useless and they had runerrands after killing Damon. Her clothes were sticky and wet making her freezein the tempered room as he watched her slide her jacket and black top off ofher skin.

Her head turned back to look at him, “I’ll need something tochange into,” she told him watching as his mouth hung open watching as shestripped out of her camisole leaving her in a lacy see-through bra.

Klaus swallowed at her movements sensual and abovesuspicion, completely Caroline, “Shirts,” he uttered with a certain hoarsenessto his tone as he pointed to the drawer that would accommodate her best as hegathered himself.

He heard her laugh as she walked to the drawer set openingthe one he had pointed to as her free hand unbuttoned her jeans. Red flag, hethought. Caroline was toying with him, his mind screamed at him, after all thistime she still had the power to bring him to his knees and he liked it. Whathad transpired today was merely more proof of it.

Klaus slithered closer pulling his shirt over his head asshe straightened pulling her hair over her neck, “Could you help me?” she askedas his hands slid over her back to unhook her bra.

Caroline shivered, she didn’t want to earn his deference bysleeping with him and she certainly didn’t want his gang to think she would belucky to fall into bed with either one of them. The thing was she wanted Klauspure and simple. She would work for him sure, keep him close and maybe murderoff any of the girls who thought they had a chance with him on the sly.

However Klaus, she couldn’t quite read, ever since earlierwhen he basically said she had his heart he’s been stand-offish at best so shetook to teasing him, just a little. His resolve was strong but her will wasstronger and she needed to get him to talk to her, look at her like he oncedid, as a woman not as another tool in his arsenal.

“Perhaps a shower?”he offered as she pulled his shirt covering her lithe frame from his eagereyes, Caroline shook her head at him as she moved past.

“Too much effort Boss,” she said but the way she said it hadhis head turning as she slipped out of her jeans and panties before crawlingonto the bed giving him a view that made his fingers tremble.

Caroline smiled as she tucked herself into the sheets thatsmelled of him inhaling deeply as he watched her, “Comfortable?” he askedsharply.

“Did you need a pillow?” she replied in kind tossing him theone that didn’t smell like him, as she settled on her side watching him catchit and sit on the edge of the couch.

“Thank you,” he said punching the pillow as he toed of hisshoes and wet socks planning on keeping his jeans on lest she feast her eyes ona familiar protruding member of his anatomy.

“Klaus,” she called his name in way that made his boneschill in pleasure, “Get in the bed, it doesn’t have to mean anything if youdon’t want it to.”

He lay back so she couldn’t see the face he made, “I’m perfectlyfine here,” he then told her rubbing his cock hissing softly as he rolled ontohis side so she couldn’t see him touching himself.

“Fine, I’m climbing on top off you and we’ll both sleep onthe couch,” Caroline cried as she tumbled out of his bed pulling the sheetswith her and settling on top of him.

“Caroline,” he said in a dark tone she knew would haveothers shaking in their perfectly fitted suits but she just smiled relishing inthe feel of his bare skin under her fingertips.

“Bed, now,” she ordered as his arms went around her waistsitting them up reminding them both that all she was wearing was his shirt.

He groaned looking as if he was in pain as he lifted themboth up feeling Caroline wrap her legs around him, “You know I could have youkilled for this right?” he asked.

“You know I could have really killed you earlier right?” sheshot back as he pressed her back into the mattress pulling the sheets shecarried over them creating a small bubble for them both.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked, a loaded question for sure, onethey hadn’t bothered to discuss in the last few days or ever at least untilnow.

“I don’t want you dead,” she whispered as her hands cuppedhis face feeling exposed, feeling his weight on her, feeling everything at onceso much that her eyes watered.

“I love you and I never got to say it before but I want tonow. Every day if you’ll let me,” she confessed watching his every expression,every feeling she felt touch his eyes.

“I believe you now too,” he murmured before brushing hislips over hers with the briefest of teases as his hands pushed her shirt upleaving her naked under him.

“Really, no, ‘I love you too Caroline’?” she asks as hekisses her loving the feel of her body squirming underneath him as his handsroam over the tense muscles of her stomach.

Shuddering at the feel of her nails digging into his arms ashe kisses her, “It was implied,” Klaus answered her as they twisted in thesheets fighting over who got to be on top.