#from the past until now since you have a massive harbor people came to you just to get to somewhere else

[selamat-linting]

if there's one thing disco elysium taught me is that personifying the city for your mental health is a good thing actually

[borkthemork]

The Wu Whereabouts Theory

Now that people are getting hyped for the month countdown toward Amphibia Season Three’s release, I am going to be talking about a theory my friend and I talked about over the past few months, and it’s time to buckle up because we’re going to be tackling this theory from a production, character design, and semantics perspective.

And why these specific factors? Because the theory revolves around these three characters.

And why I believe all of them are related in some way.

Now, you might ask yourself: Bork, how in the hell are these characters related? The old woman character doesn’t seem to have any semblance of features relating to Marcy. What about the dad, are you going to explain the dad? Are you pulling my leg?

And to that, we’re going to have to start small. I’ll first explain why the character on the right seems to be an important character to the story, how all these characters can be connected through deliberate design/semblance, and then I am going to hit it out of the park with the probability from a logical perspective with what the intro and past Marcy interactions seem to give us on why everyone is where they’re currently at.

Especially where Marcy’s father is currently located.

This theory is very, and I mean, very long, so hang on to your seats as we dive into my thoughts about where Season Three might lead us.

And credit goes to @CynDavilaChase on Twitter because she made me realize the probability of this theory in the first place.

And with that, let us begin!

Section One - Who’s This Woman?

With animated introductions, I think one of the big things I noticed with Amphibia Season Three’s intro is that it’s heavily serialized. Compared to Amphibia’s introduction with Seasons One and Two, there are a lot of animated scenes found in the sequence where the story is already being told in a narrative.

You get shots of Anne being introduced to her house, you get new important characters introduced in a lot, there appears to be insight into future events such as Anne getting a moped while being chased by government agents or the massive monkey robot chasing her through the alleyways.

A lot of the intro is prioritized over its serialized format, and that means the characters seen and animated in the foreground have to be important characters or else the studio is basically wasting time focusing on a background character that will never be seen again.

Of course, you get some sliding shots like with the construction workers or the beach scene with the beach-goers but that’s only for a second and they’re not truly the forefront.

But during the shots between 0:29 and 0:49, the sequences we see include a lot of what appears to be important scenes with important characters that will play some role in the story itself.

There are no parts in the sequence where background characters are put in the foreground. Each bit of the animation needs to count, it needs to tell a story of what’s to come and what the audience can anticipate to see.

Now that begs the question:

Why is a supposed random background character in the foreground?

We got some reason as to why the engineer lady looks important since she was in a shot full of important or supporting characters, but why her??

Sure, one could argue this shot could just be indicative of Andrias’s invasion, but there are numerous other ways to show that there’s an invasion without putting too much animation effort on one background character, especially from a composition perspective.

Pardon the messiness, I had to do this quick, but look at how all three ladies are lined up.

The far left grandma, when following from her head to the the front lady’s creates a line that not only creates a sense of direction for our eyes to follow but follows the more significant and foreground character of all three. Look at how the dragonflies occupy most of the top of the frame while the two older women stay in the marketplace’s form, and how this leaves the younger woman to be abruptly placed in the open — creating a visual that this character in particular is more important than the rest in the shot.

Check the way the characters move their eyes when the scene happens too: the background characters quickly look to the right, then the woman out in the open then directs her eyesight to the skyline, where all the dragonflies are flitting by.

Now, I’m not a storyboard artist or composer, I could be wrong on how the crew created this scene all together, but regardless it is still so odd to put emphasis on a background character in the front and then just leave it at that.

She has to be important in some way, and this is where I want to talk about character design.

Section Two - All Related or Am I Just Racist?

When it comes to character design we need to talk about how the character designers make sure to give Anne some form of semblance to her parents, and in this case, she looks a lot like her mother.

They got the bushy hair, the same skin tone, eyebrows, etc. And with her dad you could even see that Anne got her fluffy bangs from him specifically. Only one shared genetic trait, however.

This is deliberate, we know that for sure, and that is why I need to make this very clear as we transition to the similarities found in Marcy and the theorized characters, and why I believe they’re related in design. Mainly because the concept of race and appearance could be quite a debacle and I wanted to make sure that all of you know I am not assuming things out of naivety, and if I am, feel free to get my ass.

Other than that, let’s look at them again.

And here I shall compile the appearance stuff that each character seems to have.

With these three characters they seem to connect to one another with one genetic trait, but if one looks closely, there comes the question of the older lady (who I will just call Marcy’s mom at this point) and why she’s vastly different to Marcy when it comes to skin tone, hair color, and hell — if we look between Marcy and the engineer — why these two characters have vastly different hairstyles compared to the woman.

Even though I could give speculation and some doubt to the engineer and Marcy’s mom being related, and on first glance I couldn’t do the same with Marcy and her mom either, but then I did some digging and realized something. I can connect Marcy and her potential mom in one way — hair design.

Marcy and her mom both share the same poofy hair, it’s just that one is more short and the other is allowed to grow out in a nice little nest.

Don’t believe me?

They got the same floofy bangs with that specific hair line.

And when Marcy was little, Marcy appeared to need a hair tie because her hair was growing out, and it looked like this.

If we consider that what Marcy’s hair tie is holding up might be her bangs — bangs that might cover her eyesight from how floofy it is — then if you removed the hair tie then she and the woman would have a very similar looking design hair-wise.

Even with these hair similarities, however, there is still inquiry as to why Marcy is vastly different compared to her mother when it comes to skin and hair color, and here is where I go into some speculation to piece all of it together:

Marcy actually carries the appearance of her dad more than her mom.

Her dad has olive skin and black, straight hair, while her mother harbors tan skin and floofy, brown hair.

It’s this one piece of speculation that basically slides everything into place, but regardless it’s still speculation and one that I cannot confirm or even argue much about due to the nature of genetics and the limited info we have. But with this piece set in place, we could start to create the argument that maybe, just maybe, these characters are related.

But if they are, why do we only see Marcy’s mom and her supposed sister and not her dad?

Why do we get no indication of Marcy having a sister until Season Three?

How do we put all of this together?

Section Three - Distance and Finance

I rewatched True Colors numerous times when it came to understanding and interpreting what I could with the limited Marcy-centric flashback we had. I even went through episodes such as Maddie and Marcy, New Wartwood, and a lot of other episodes just to fit everything into place. And I think I have a good indication as to why this family is the way that it is.

First off, we’re going to be talking about Marcy’s dad and his new job out of state.

California is a very expensive state. And as someone who lives in California, the housing crisis and the ability to even stay in a house/dorm without sweating over the idea of being bankrupt is a very real thing.

So it is a curious thing that one of the reasons that the Wus had to leave came out to moving out-of-state due to a new job offer, one that infers a lot more money and probably a more stable living environment.

You could even hear the dad saying “Marcy, you have to understand!” when Marcy runs out, meaning that there’s probably a good reason as to why the parents believe that the move is essential, and I am banking on the idea of money for a number of reasons.

One, living in Los Angeles is expensive as hell.

Two, the coping mechanisms Marcy has makes sense if finance is the main comeuppance.

Three, the background art.

And four, why this girl has straight A’s and a PSAT book.

We already covered number one, but let’s take a look at what I mean about coping mechanisms.

Marcy Wu’s many flaws come from what looks to be the fear of being alone, and the fear of being seen as unvaluable and worthless; that if Marcy doesn’t prove herself lovable and essential to the people around her then she gets anxious and will do anything in her powers to make the people around her like her or stay with her.

She will omit information, move along objectives through passive and indirect persuasion, allow people to assert their will over her because they said so and, most importantly, does all of this because she fears the consequences when she gets outed or rocks the boat. Because rocking the boat means people will get mad at her, and she appears to try to avoid that situation of vulnerability like the plague until it all culminated into True Colors.

She is terrified of getting hurt. She is terrified, specifically, of consequences — punishment through stress, frustration, the people she loves looking at her differently because of the mistakes she’s made, etc.

Why do I say this? It’s because if we look into Marcy Wu with her pre-Amphibia self, a lot of these fears could be placed into that middle school scenario very well. Marcy Wu plays videogames and loves fiction because it is a form of escapism or happiness away from stress; she has this intense curiosity to basically anything of interest and uses that to thrive with getting straight A’s and an overall very solid record, but there’s still a probability that high expectations or making the people around her love her comes through said status of being the smart one (after all, she prides on her intellect, and sees it as essential to basically surviving the day to day).

Look at Marcy’s flashback in True Colors. She’s a middle schooler but is studying for the PSAT, which is mainly held in High School, and I’m no expert but I don’t think you read that stuff for fun or at least study it that early.

And I find it interesting that that’s the first shot we get of Marcy before we dive into her parents’ argument — education, studying, the expectation of high scores.

And then when you remember that Marcy is the least athletic of the girls, the thrift shop’s street she retreats to away from her parents is not that faraway from her neighborhood.

And this street, is messy as all hell. And with the revised background art for this area, nothing about the place changes but instead gets emphasized through more shots of how rundown it all looks!

The fact there’s a bail bonds building behind Mar-mar also doesn’t reassure me in the slightest.

So here’s where we are: Studying, getting good grades, a serious financial situation, lives near a rundown section of the city, high expectations, and the evaluation of one’s worth through intellect and academia.

What we are witnessing is a nuanced family situation. If we go by the assumption that the three girls’ lives are not only vastly different in personality but upbringing, then on an income scale, Anne would be middle income, Sasha would be high income, and Marcy is low income.

Her family’s struggling to be stable in a city that they can’t afford to live in, there’s a very high emphasis on good grades and education in the household, and the situation is so bad that her dad would take the proposal of a higher-paying job out of state than finding a similar job out in the city.

However, in this household’s struggle to have a better life, the parents had to focus on their children getting better living than them, and this means Marcy had to live in an environment where the biggest source of reward and praise is through intellect, academics, the approval of the parents.

And I could probably assume that this focus on finance also lead to very rough patches where Marcy was unable to be encouraged over stuff she loves like C&C or videogames, since the level of attention is low compared to the amount of happiness and pride her parents get when she gets an A+.

Especially when we consider that in the dialogue we hear from Mr. and Mrs. Wu, her dad is more assertive while her mom appears to care but doesn’t seem to go against her husband’s tone, so a lot of the probable issues might’ve come from Marcy wanting her dad’s approval and her mother never standing up for her when he became frustrated.

That would make a lot of context with Andrias even worse in retrospect, because that means the moment a male adult figure decided to care about her and give attention to what she loved, then Marcy fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

And could you blame her?

Now, let’s finally get a glimpse on one other character I’ve been neglecting in this essay.

This gal! Because if Marcy and her are somehow related, then we need to question why she was never mentioned or why she wasn’t involved in the conversation between Marcy and her parents.

I’ve done a massive theory post about this already, but the biggest probability comes in the design itself, since if Marcy’s sister went through trade school to be a mechanic/engineer then there’s a high probability she’s in her mid-Twenties. And if we consider that Marcy is 13, then Marcy would’ve been born when her sister was 12 or 13, and ultimately leave the household when she turned 18.

This means Marcy would’ve gone on with less contact from her sister for 6 years, and that’s a lot for a developing child.

It’s not improbable for Marcy to have lost contact with her big sister, or at least had lesser time to meet up with her due to work, college, or her own adult life now that she’s out of the house.

After all, in Maddie and Marcy, I find it very interesting that out of the advice Marcy could’ve given to Maddie about siblings, Marcy tells her that even though Maddie is the older sibling and is allowed to have her own life she suggests that maybe she should make some time for her sisters occasionally. Almost as if this was a ditto moment for her, that she understands but also had a good example of a sister who made time whenever she had the chance.

On more speculation terms, it would be cute to think that the reason Marcy has so much fire and spirit toward her fiction and love for games is because of her sister. After all, Marcy harbors the same interest toward engineering and robotics, it wouldn’t be a stretch in the imagination that perhaps her sister encouraged her to keep on going with what she felt passionate for regardless of their parents’ lack of response, to basically be unapologetic of what she loves, and this mantra kept her going for a lot of her life even when her sis went for trade school.

But let’s go on a side note here. I find it quite interesting that the character design of Marcy’s sis is also very telling, because not only does it tell a supposed story about who she was in the aftermath of graduation, but we could find a way to also put the theme of income and finance into her story as well.

Let’s be real these two are partners in all the way — from mechanics to engineers to straight up girlfriends, these two basically have their own business going on and I find it interesting that none of them just go with robotics or mechanics as a full-time thing, it’s mainly two jobs rolled up into one.

Why is that? There is some speculation that maybe they’re specialists and work in a very science-related area, but it seems highly likely that their main jobs are being car mechanics by day and robotic expert nerds by night. After all, the city can be hecked with money so I wouldn’t be surprised if they did two jobs at once to keep the lights on. I could also see them doing freelancing to repair or experiment with engineering projects since they take more money than actually makes in most cases.

Overall, money plays a big part with the family, and culminates to what I like to call a Massive Shitfest TM when they get alerted over the girls’ disappearances.

Section Four - Massive Shitfest Boogaloo and Where They Are Now~

In the aftermath of their teleport to Amphibia, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Wus had a big argument over Marcy and what should be done in the aftermath. Really, the family still needs to take that job because of finance, people are blaming each other over who pushed her to the brink, and then you have Marcy’s sister — who was probably out of the loop but probably knows how it was in the household — getting added into the mess of what just happened and adding her grief into the mix.

It is a blunder, terrifying and could break apart a family if I’m being honest. but what comes through is this:

People have now become stubborn in the Wu household, and no one is going to back down.

And what I mean is that Mrs. Wu, devastated by what happened ever since the argument in True Colors, will stay in Los Angeles out of grief and a supposed hope that Marcy would return. While Mr. Wu, determined to keep the finance going and keeping everyone stable and safe, abides by Mrs. Wu and decides to go out of state regardless, bringing back a flow of money to keep the Wu household stable through the aftermath.

It would make sense as to why Marcy’s mom is present in the intro but not any suspecting candidates for the dad.

Or how we see that there’s two older ladies with her in the intro. They might actually be close relatives who moved into the household out of the obligation to comfort Mrs. Wu but to also keep her company throughout this dark time in her life.

After all, when one loses a child, a lot of prior relations start to unravel as the status quo changes, and we are definitely going to see Anne confront the Wus and Waybrights when it comes to upbringing and home life.

But really, it is all up in the air. With Season Three around the corner, I am excited to see what the story has in store for us when it comes to the deep-diving into Marcy’s home life. She might’ve had a nuanced family life. She might’ve had abusive parents, perhaps no sister at all but a lot of relatives who grieved for her.

But with this theory out to the public, thank you all for reading along with this massive beast of a post, and I hope we get to see Marcy out of the aloe vera sauce very soon!

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Watchers in the Shadows

Another plot important story, with the what I am terming the Shadowed Lords.  I have also found a solution to the very important question of “How to make sure the Inquisition just doesn’t murder everyone.”  I own none of these characters.  Enjoy.

“History requires two parties - the historian and their audience.  Without that, one is just talking to oneself.  So kindly stop screaming and you might learn something.” - Trazyn the Infinite, guiding human guests through the Prismatic Gallery

“It is our duty to protect those who are important to future events, those who might save the face of the galaxy, those chosen by prophecy - blah blah blah.  I’m just here to kill things.”  -Revenant

Aboard the Novus Galactica

The Watch Fortress was a miracle of human technology and ingenuity.  This particular one was mobile, a great boon for its occupants.  As soon as diplomats and Inquisitors were dispatched to these strange, newly found galaxies, it had been deemed by the High Lords of Terra that a permanent force of Throne Agents should be stationed in each.  Unfortunately for the Imperium of Man, and, perhaps fortunately for everyone else, they were currently only able to transfer a small amount of the resources they wanted to one singular galaxy.  At the moment.  The time would come when they would fully operate there, the agents of the Imperium hiding in every shadow, behind every crevice, always watching, always waiting.  The fight against the xeno, mutaint, and heretic never ended, after all, and these new galaxies provided ample examples of each.  

The newly anointed Lady Inquisitor Amberley Vail stood on the tiled stone floor of the Watch Fortress, looking out high cathedral windows into the black void of space.  Inquisitors were all technically equals, though in practice some were more equal than others.  Senior and powerful Inquisitors were given the honorary prefix Lord or Lady to denote that they were, in fact, just a little more equal than their peers.  Since she had been the first to discover, and make contact with these eight new galaxies, it would be her duty to oversee all investigations in them.  A great honor.  

At the time, though, Vail would just be investigating each one in turn until more Inquisitors could be spared.  Already she was given her choice in team, and her retinue was here, with more hand-picked agents to come.  And, of course, the operatives the High Lords and Ordo Xenos had seen fit to give her.  With the technology found in these new places, she could now contact the High Lords directly, if necessary, and they could monitor her progress.  As such, they had seen it fit to grant the Watch Fortress a cadre of Officio Assassinorum operatives, one from each Temple.  They were in cryo storage below, except the Vanus operative, currently hard at work gathering every scrap of data she could.  

Should she require pure power instead of singular agents, a Kill Team of the dreaded Deathwatch was on hand.  They were newly formed and called up, but each member was hand-chosen by the Inquisition, and, if rumors were to be believed, the Custodian Guard themselves.  Right now, they were settling into their new home, their weapons drills already ringing through the training spaces.  The Kill Team also served a second, more sinister purpose: if Vail was to go rogue for whatever reason, they had orders to hunt her down and destroy her.  She harbored no illusions of their ability, and, of course, had no intention of turning traitor.  Better had fallen than her, though, so she did appreciate the contingency.  

At the moment, more Marine heavy weaponry and armored vehicles were on the way, along with a regiment of Inquisitorial Storm Troopers.  More things to be added to the armory of the Imperium in this new galaxy.  

Vail paced, then went to her cognator, located next to the Vanus operative, still absorbed in her work.  She sat down, and began to type.  Secrets would be revealed, and the Inquisition would act upon them.

Unknown Location

The room was dark, as it always was, only illuminated by the blinding glory of a nearby star.  No one came here, no one knew of its existence except two organizations.  Two organizations that almost none knew of.  A massive man, power armored bulk hidden by a simple white robe, sword strapped on to his chest, stood side by side with another individual clad in black armor and greatcoat.  A tight fitting black helmet with glowing red lenses covered the second’s face, and as it spoke, the voice that emanated from within was corrupted and rendered untraceable.

“We must begin.  Our list is complete.”

“Unorthodox, yes, but it must be this way,” spoke the second, a reverberating deep base echoing from beneath he white hood.  “What of Inquisitor Vail?  Should she find… certain things, it would not bode well for our plans.” 

“I am handling it as we speak.  Drake shows promise.  It was good to act that quickly, but in the end, the Shadow Broker, the Mechanicus, the Inquisition, the Scoundrels, ONI, the ISB… none of them are good enough to face us.  Vail will hear no word of it.  Stability will be preserved.  Just as we must preserve the Scoundrels themselves.”

“Indeed.  It must be restated: they are key to future events.  I suggest we get moving.”  With a nod to each other, the two figures disappeared into the shadows.

Unknown Planet

The ground was icy and cold, some dead world in the middle of nowhere.  It didn’t even have a name, so remote it had never been discovered.  Of course, there were those who could find it, should they really wish to.  One such individual stood here, examining strange patterns in the snow.  Well-groomed black hair tumbled down to his shoulders, held in place by a circlet of gold.  Despite the bone-numbing cold, the man did not shiver, black and green tunic still in the frigid air.   A heavy crack of displaced air sounded behind him, and the black haired man turned around, smiling softly to himself. 

“Ah.  Can I help you?” he said in a polite and cultured voice.  The two figures, one massive and wearing a white robe, the other of medium height and wearing a black coat, stepped forward.  The black haired man stood, noting the weapons, the size, the strangeness of these newcomers.

“Loki of Asgard.  We have need of your skills,” responded a metallic and synthesized voice from the black coated silhouette’s mask.  This elicited a small, oh-so-sly smile from the black haired man.  

“Yes.  I’m sure a great many people do.  What’s in it for me?”

“Name your price,” came a deep, reverberating voice.  Loki thought quietly to himself, then spoke.

“Done,” replied the tall figure.  

“Now, what do you need me for?” asked Loki.

Hammond Robotics Lab-77431

A metallic abomination of red and grey stood above Dr. Marshall.  It was humanoid, but all metal; unnaturally tall and spindly.  He squirmed quietly, inching away from it on the cold surface of the laboratory floor.  Blood was splattered messily over the surface of computer banks and grey plastic workstations.  Marshall silently prayed that the guards were on their way.  He had just enough time to press the panic button as the… thing slaughtered the two guards and his three colleagues.  Now it stood over him, head tilted at an unnatural angle.  

“No one is coming to save you.  No one ever was.”  It’s voice was horrible, gravely, and grating.  Marshall whimpered.  It spoke again.  “You can beg for mercy.  It won’t help, but go on.”

“Please… please.  I don’t even know what you are!  Why would you want to kill me?”  The thing snarled and pinned Marshall to the wall with one metallic hand.  

“You made me a killing machine.  Who am I to argue with programming?”  The abomination’s synthetic eyes seemed to glow.  “Look into my eyes.  I want to remember this.”  

“No!  NO!  No-”  The begging cut out with a horrifying, gurgling scream as the thing ripped out his throat.  It gave a malicious laugh.  A new voice spoke.  

“Revenant.”  It was a statement.  “We have need of your services.”  Revenant turned around with a snarl, only to find himself face to face with three of the most odd individuals he’d ever seen.  A smooth faced, black haired man in a green and black surcoat, smirking at him.  A figure in a black coat and black armor, it’s face hidden behind a mask with glowing red lenses.  A giant, wearing a white robe, with a sword strapped to its back, its face hidden behind the robe’s cowl.  

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand?” sneered Revenant.  

“If you can, which I doubt,” replied the black haired man.  The figure in the coat held up a gauntleted hand.  

“We have need of your services,” it repeated.  “As payment, we can fix you or kill you.  Your choice.  But you must do as we say.”  Revenant seemed to consider the deal.  

“Done,” he replied eventually.  

“Good.  Now, there’s work to be done.”  

Star Wars Galaxy

Belsavis

Imperial Outpost Planet

The New Republic had, in its infinite wisdom, sent a team of commandos to capture a small Imperial outpost planet in the middle of smack-dab nowhere.  Sargent Underwilth was quite displeased by this, as had the entirety of the rest of her commando group, from Private Nikeer all the way up to the Captain.  It would be a long, boring, and completely useless mission, and for what purpose?  Grab a completely insignificant Imperial fort that could house a battalion and a group of shuttles at the absolute maximum?  Why?  Send soldiers to die for that?  She hated High Command for it.  Hate-d.  Past tense.  At the present moment, she was cursing the name of every single New Republic official she could remember, from the major who had briefed them to Princess Leia herself.  Saying things had gotten a bit out of hand would be the understatement of the millenia.  

“I need fire at 1-2-7-4!  Immediate effect, whatever you’ve got!” screamed the comms chatter.  The Imperial stormtroopers crouched next to her looked warily in the direction of the lieutenant whose scream was cut short over the comms.  Captain Pai, the commando leader, was dead.  Major Vekk, commander of the Imperial garrison, was now in charge of both the stormtrooper and commando contingent.  Underwilth had never thought she would be fighting side by side with stormtroopers.  They were terrible shots and propaganda-fueled idiots, holding on to the crumbling remnants of a tyrant.  Desperate times, though, called for desperate measures.  She nodded at her mixed group of Republic and Imperial soldiery, and, as one, they stepped over the ledge of the wall they were crouched behind.  A withering storm of blaster bolts rent the air, many going wide as their users panicked.  It was enough though.  

The bolts slammed into the metal abomination, many ricocheting harmlessly off its bones with high pitched pings!  Underwilth had no idea what these things were, or why they were here.  The commando team had landed, everything going well, and had infiltrated the fortress, only for an army of metal skeletons to show up.  They were spindly and humanoid in appearance, with elongated skulls and arms much thinner than a human.  Their odd appearance didn’t matter, though.  Horrible weapons had rotated, spitting sickly green beams of light at the now combined defenders.  Everything that was touched by those beams died.  Captain Pai was disintegrated where he stood.  Atomized without a sound.  

The defenders had fought back with everything in their arsenal.  Blasters didn’t work.  Grenades didn’t work.  Cryo bombs didn’t work.  Only massive, coordinated firepower would stop these undying invaders. 

Scorch marks appeared on the metal skeleton that Underwilth’s group drowned in fire.  More and more blaster bolts found their mark, staggering it.  Underwilth screamed at them to keep firing.  Eventually, slowly, it toppled into the dirt.  Underwilth’s group let out a great cheer.  It died in their throats when they saw what was happening.  The metal abomination, light faded from its eyes and limbs blown off, glowed with the same sickly green light as its eyes and weapons.  Limbs reattached themselves.  Blaster pockmarks faded.  Internal wiring affixed itself.  It stood, and glowing green eyes snapped on once more.  

Beneath the Surface of Belsavis

Trazyn the Infinite, Overlord of the Nihilakh Dynasty, Archoevist of Solomance, and Curator of the Prismatic Galleries walked through the underground tomb complex covered by the Imperial outpost.  He had come to... acquire the artifacts, weapons, and species in the tomb underneath.  Unfortunately, a group of the idiotic humans that inhabited this galaxy had decided to build a fortress right on top of it.  He didn’t even spend the processing power wondering about the humans.  Mere insects.  His soldiers were there to defend his archaeological expedition, and if the humans wanted to attack them, well, that was their problem.  

Trazyn was, quite frankly, disappointed over this particular galaxy.  It wasn’t that there weren’t ancient and important treasures to plunder: no, far from it.  The things he could find here almost rivaled his own galaxy.  Almost.  It wasn’t that.  

It was that the people of this place had absolutely zero appreciation for history.  It was utterly infuriating.  Trazyn was the historian.  The lives of entire species meant nothing to him.  He was as old as the stars themselves, able to see eons as they stretched out in front of him.  The reason he did any of this in the first place was to preserve history before time or battle erased it.  His entire planet was one massive museum, with exhibits stretching back some 60 billion years before the planet Earth even existed.  But these people?  They didn’t teach history.  Didn’t preserve history.  To borrow a human expression, didn’t give one singular, flying fuck about it.  His mind frowned in distaste over the crude word.  It was nevertheless true.  The inhabitants of this place had merely forgotten the Old Republic, the government that ruled the galaxy only thirty years ago.  The Jedi Knights were myths.  The Clone Wars were bedtime legends.  Trazyn ground his metal teeth in frustration.  Thirty years.  That was a microsecond.  That was about the time a standard Necron court case lasted.  Even the humans, short-lived insects that they were, should remember that long.  After all, they usually lived between sixty to a hundred, did they not?  Simply no respect for the past here.  

The other galaxies were not like this.  The humans of one galaxy even remembered events some two thousand years prior.  That galaxy was the one with the Makers.  A battle between gods and demons.  He had already been to a Maker lab, and taken the dark artifact from the homeworld of the Celzex.  Along with half the guard on duty at the time.  And the throne.  They wouldn’t miss it.  Probably.  

He was getting off track.  Despite the idiots of this place not knowing what it was, this place was magnificent.  The architecture, the stone, the instriptions and technology… oh, yes.  If Trazyn had still possessed a mortal body, he would be grinning like a buffoon now.  He wanted everything.  

The tomb had once belonged to the Rakata Infinite Empire.  He sneered at the name. 

“There can only be one Infinite, and only one Infinite Empire.  And you, my friends, are no longer among the living,” he told a statue.  The Empire had, at its apex, controlled a great deal of the galaxy and possessed technologies and ancient wonders not seen since.  An entire species, called the Esh-Ka, had been trapped here in status for nigh thirty millenia by the ancient Rakata.  Nothing compared to Trazyn, but he appreciated the gesture of the long dead civilization nonetheless.  Ancient Rakata warlords, soldiers, status, glyphs, tablets, weapons, enemies, technology… everything.  This was a prison world, and the Rakata built it to last.  Now, though… now it was Trazyn’s time to shine.  He took everything he could, the walls and massive scripts cut away by his personal bodyguard.  Everything went into tesseract labyrinths.  These were small black cubes, about the size of Trazyn’s fist.  They pulsed with darkness, ever wishing to suck things into their voids.  These cubes were gateways to pocket dimensions, and Trazyn had long used them to capture specimens from his museum.  

He hummed as he worked, nearly giddy with excitement.  If there had been any watchers, they would have found the sight of the ancient necron lord almost dancing with exhilaration to be quite funny.  As he loaded the last of the Rakata imprisoned within the tomb, there was a flash of green light behind him.  It’s coloration was similar to the eyes and weaponry of the necrons, yet only the discharge of his bodyguards’ gauss flayers could have made such a sight, and Trazyn knew for a fact none of them had.  He whirled around, only to be met with a very strange sight.  

Four individuals stood between him and his guards.  One was obviously a synthetic, tall and spindly with red and grey limbs.  This one glowered mechnicgly at Trazyn, but he laughed it off.  You didn’t know a good glower until you’ve stood on the wrong side of a Star God.  The second was human, smirking from behind shoulder length black hair and a black and green tunic.  The third waas masked, armored, and coated, and stood at simple attention, unbothered by the necrons that lowered their gauss flayers at its back.  The last, though…

“Lord Cypher,” said Trazyn with a bow.  The massive man in white noticeably stiffened.  “A pleasure to have you here.  Ah, yes.  I know who you are, of course.  Don’t be surprised.  You would make a fine addition to my collection,” he mused.  Trazyn looked up, noticeably more perky.  “Is that why you’re here?  Have you come to give yourself up?  Ready to be a part of history?”  The massive man, Cypher, glared at him.  

“We have need of your help, Lord Trazyn.  After you are…” he looked around, noticing the completely empty walls of the tomb, “Done here, we wish to speak with you.  Your… expertise is necessary.”  Trazyn grinned, the necrodermis teeth of his death mask coming together.  A necron grinning was a very bizarre sight.  

“Ah, you flatter me, Lord Cypher.  And from one who has bedeviled the Imperium for ten thousand years and fought the Deceiver himself, such flattery is most appreciated.  However,” Trazyn gestured around, “As you can see, my work consumes me.  I’m afraid history stops for no one.  Except you.”  He held out a tesseract labyrinth, his voice flowing with mischief.

“Wait!” replied Cypher.  “We have need of your help,” he repeated.  “If you do not join us, then events will transpire that will result in the eventual destruction of reality,” he stated calmly, as if he were simply talking about the weather.  “It might not happen now, or later, or even in a century, or millenia, but I know for certain it will happen.  Everything you hold dear, everything you have worked so hard for over these billions of years, will be gone.  If you help us, we will most likely succeed, and in payment we will offer to you the greatest treasures in the universe.”  Cypher held out a hand.  “So what say you, Trazyn the Infinite?  Are you ready to change history for once, instead of just cataloging it?”  Trazyn pondered a moment, his neural circuitries firing faster than any mortal could keep up.  Eventually, he took the hand.

“I accept.”

And there we are.  I hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any comments, criticisms, concerns, questions, or requests, feel free to contact me!  Wherever you are, have a great day!

[phykios]

marmaromenos, 2/?, percy and poseidon for CommanderBear on ao3 :) [read on ao3]

June, 1444

Percy tilted his head back, staring up at the great, beautiful beast of a church which loomed before him, the one they called St. Sophia, the house of holy wisdom. Everyone in Constantinople knew of this church, of course, towering above the city as it did, a beacon for the men and women of Christendom. Supposedly, travelers from all over the world came to marvel at the sight, at the architectural marvel of the ancient Romans. 

Personally, Percy thought it looked a little lumpy.

Though he supposed it was more impressive than his mother’s temple, with its stone walls instead of wooden beams. Certainly it was much larger. 

He was surprised none of the church guards thought to throw him out, looking as bedraggled as he did. Dirty and travel-worn, with ripped clothes just barely covering his myriad of injuries, he must have looked as one of the homeless children who haunted the street corners, begging for coin or food from kind passersby. Percy was not at all fit to wander such exalted halls. 

Yet wander he did, right up to a guard with a scar on his hand in the shape of a triangle, and with an air of bravery which he did not truly feel, Percy said to the man the words which he had been instructed to say, “I seek an audience with the emperor.”

The guard looked at him over his nose, unimpressed. “Then get yourself to the palace.”

“I request an audience with the Panellenios.” Still the guard stared blankly at him. But Percy had been warned he might be stubborn. “With Zeus Olumpios.”

The man narrowed his eyes. 

Percy glared right back, for he could be a thousand times more hard-headed than any man. 

“Have you been granted an audience?” he asked, after some time.

“No, but--”

“Then he shall not see you,” said the guard. “No appointment, no audience--no exceptions.”

“Oh, I wager he will make an exception,” Percy said, grasping the hilt of the sword which hung around his waist. It seemed to have shrunk on the journey back to Constantinople, now quite easily sized for him, where before it had clearly been forged for a much larger man, though the golden hilt was no less intricate, finely wrought with scenes of war and triumph, with a precision only found in the forges of Hephaestus. 

Blankly, the guard looked at the sword on Percy's hip--then paled in sudden recognition. "Is that--?"

"Indeed," said Percy. "Would you like me to prove it?" And he made to unsheathe the lightning.

“No, no!” hissed the man, taking Percy’s shoulder and pulling him into a shadow. “Please, none of that here.”

Percy gave him a pointed look.

The man sighed. “Follow me.” Then, looking over his shoulder, he led them through the metal doors, into the church.

The first thing Percy noted was the walls. They were purple and green and white, cross sections of marble joined together in a stone tapestry of color and texture. Even the floors were a part of this tapestry, worn smooth from the feet of a thousand pilgrims. 

And then he looked up. 

Percy gasped.

He knew houses of worship to be dark, solemn places, but light streamed into the house of holy wisdom from a hundred different sources. Percy felt as if he were standing at the bottom of a great canyon, looking up at the sun which peeked out from over the cliff. The golden dome, the one which Annabeth had spoken so highly of, it seemed to float on nothing but air, suspended from the heavens as the walls which supported it dissolved into sunlight. And the colors! Lavish mosaics decorated each surface, portraits of emperors and empresses rendered in gold and precious stones, lit with colored glasses of red and purple and blue, as if they had harnessed the power of Iris herself just to shine on the faces of rulers long since passed. 

The guard hissed at him, beckoning him through the hall towards the sanctuary. Laying a hand against one of the marble panels, there shone a blue triangle, and before his very eyes, the marble split open, like two leaves of a book coming undone, until there was a doorway, and a set of circular stairs. “Go,” said the guard. “Do not keep them waiting.”

He did as the man told him, and ascended the stairs. He walked. And walked. And kept walking. At one point, he had to stop and rest a while, catching his breath, one hand braced against the wall. How high was this malakes staircase?

Finally, blessedly, he reached the top. The doors to Olympus opened as he approached, revealing to him the home of the gods. 

Percy stepped out and nearly fell off. 

He stood on a thin, stone walkway in the middle of the air. Below him was the blue dome of St. Sophia and the city of Constantinople, from the height of one of Zeus’ mighty eagles. Before him, white marble steps wound their way through the clouds, into the blue sky, where Percy beheld the peak of a mountain, its summit covered with snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of palaces, each one grander than that of the emperor of Rome, all with white-columned porticos and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand holy fires. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rose bushes, figs and pomegranates hanging low, ripe for the taking, almost as colorful as the temples. On one side, Percy could discern a stone amphitheater built out of the side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other, and an open-air market filled with colorful tents in between, a vibrant, thriving city plucked straight from the past.

Percy wondered at it all. How could this be? How could the people of the city of Constantinople live underneath such splendor and not see it for themselves? 

In a daze, he walked forward. He passed a few giggling wood nymphs who threw olives at him from the safety of their garden, as hawkers in the market offered to sell him fine food and rich wines, just as the mortals did. Traveling through a beautiful park, he spotted the nine muses tuning their instruments, while a small crowd gathered before them, satyrs and naiads, handsome youths and beautiful girls, unburdened and carefree. None seemed worried about the prospect of an impending civil war. Indeed, the mood was festive and joyful.

Several turned to watch as he passed, whispering to themselves.

Climbing the main road, towards the glittering white and silver palace at the peak, Percy passed through the central courtyard, stepping into the throne room. And it was a room, as it was contained within four walls--but room did not quite clearly capture the enormity of the space. Even bigger than the hall of St. Sophia, massive columns rose to another domed ceiling, gilded not with mosaics, but with living, breathing, moving constellations. He spied Orion, the Dioscuri, and his namesake, Perseus, traveling across the sky in their endless celestial dance.

Twelve thrones, built for enormous beings, were arranged in an inverted U, just as they were with the villas at the agoge, complete with an enormous fire crackling in the hearth, right in the center. The thrones were vacant, save for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left. Percy did not have to be told who the two gods were which sat there, observing him, awaiting his approach. He could barely even look at them without feeling his flesh begin to tingle, as though his body were mere moments away from burning.

Zeus Olumpios, the lord of the sky, sat before him on a throne made of solid metal, white and shining, in a great, purple cloak, the color that was reserved for kings and emperors only, his face proud and handsome, but grim, stern eyes steely blue like thunderclouds. The air about him crackled, smelling of flowers, the heartbeat before a lightning strike.

The god sitting next to him was his brother, of that Percy had no doubt, but he could not have been more different. He reminded Percy a little of the fishermen that dotted the harbors of the city, in his simple, light tunic and well-worn sandals. His skin was deeply tanned, hands scarred from the cuts of a thousand fishhooks. His hair was black, like Percy's, on which rested a crown of celery leaves, and his face was dark and brooding, the same look which had branded Percy as a troublemaker. But his eyes, the color of the Bosphorus in the sunlight, like Percy's, were surrounded by sun-crinkles which seemed to indicate that he was a man prone to smiling.

His throne was a fisherman's chair, and at his side, instead of a fishing pole, was a giant, bronze trident.

The gods did not move nor speak, but there was a tension in the air, as if Percy had come to them at the conclusion of some great argument.

Percy approached the fisherman's throne, kneeling at his feet. "Father."

He did not dare look up.

To his left, Zeus spoke, his voice the echo of thunderclaps. "Should you not first address the master of this house, boy?"

He kept his head down.

"Peace, brother," said Poseidon. His voice stirred one of Percy's oldest, most treasured memories: that warm glow he recalled as an infant, the sensation of this god's hand upon his forehead. "The boy defers to his father--this is only right."

"You still claim him, then?" Zeus asked him. "You claim this child whom you sired against our most sacred oath?"

"I have admitted my wrongdoings," said Poseidon. "Now, I would hear him speak."

Percy's heart beat in his chest, a lump growing in his throat. Was that all he was to this mighty being? A wrongdoing? A mistake?

"I have spared him once already," Zeus grumbled. "Daring to fly through my domain... pah! I should have struck him from the sky as I once did to Bellerophon for his impudence."

"And risk destroying your weapon?" asked Poseidon, as calm as the sea after a storm. "Let us hear him out, brother."

Grumbling once more, he acquiesced.

"Perseus," said his father. "Look at me."

He did.

His face was inscrutable. Percy saw no sign of neither approval nor disapproval. It was as if he were attempting to discern the mood of the ocean, whether or not it would provide safe travels or turbulent waves, from only the stillness of the waters. He could not sense whether or not Poseidon was pleased with him, he realized, and, in some strange way, it did not trouble him. Had he been more affectionate or loving, it would have felt like a trick, like the magic of some monster, luring him to his demise.

"Address Lord Zeus, boy," he intoned. "Tell him of your tale."

And so did Percy relate everything as it had happened to him, the long and twisted tale of the lightning thief. He told Zeus of Medusa and the Erinyes, of Echidna in Thessalonica, of the treachery of the god of war and the revelations uncovered in the Underworld. He unbuckled the sword and sheath from his belt, which had begun sparking in the god's presence, and carefully laid it at his feet.

For a long while, there was nothing but silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire.

Zeus opened his palm, and the weapon flew to its master's palm. As he closed his fist about the hilt, it transformed before Percy's very eyes, into a jagged length of metal, a five-meter javelin of arcing, hissing energy.

"I sense the boy is telling the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing... it is most unlike him."

"He is proud and impulsive, my lord," said Poseidon. "Something of a family trait, I believe."

Percy swallowed. "Lord?"

"Yes?" They said together.

"I do not feel that Lord Ares acted alone. There was another... a shadowy puppetmaster, operating just beyond his knowledge."

"How do you mean?" asked Zeus.

In one final, vicious confrontation, Percy had faced the god of war in single combat on the shores of Aitne. Though he had managed to land a blow on the god, striking his ankle, Ares had been poised to strike him down... until a strange, cold presence had seemed to cease the flow of time, causing Ares to stay his hand, a momentary breath of evil which had dogged his dreams, and Percy too told of this. "In my dreams, the voice bade me to bring the bolt to the Underworld, a voice that Ares seemed to have heard as well in his. I believe he was being used to start a war."

"So you do accuse Hades, then?" Zeus asked.

"No, Lord Zeus--I have been in his presence, and it was not what I felt on the beaches of Aitne. Rather, it was the same feeling I had when I got too close to the pit of Tartarus." For that was what it was, he suddenly realized. Something stirred down there, something evil and powerful... and older even than the two gods which sat before him.

Glancing at each other, the lords of sea and sky engaged in a quick, intense discussion in the ancient tongue, which Percy could not follow, though he was able to catch a single word: Father. 

"We shall speak of this no more," said Zeus. "I shall personally go to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, removing the human taint from its metal."

He rose, looking at Percy, who stared back, willing everything in him not to flinch.

Then, his countenance softened, just a touch. "You have done me a service, boy. Few heroes could have accomplished as much."

"I was not alone, my lord," he said. "The satyr Aegidius, and Annabeth Fredriksdotter--"

"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Perseus of Constantinople, and I do not like what your arrival may portend for the future of Olympos. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."

How magnanimous of him. "Thank you, sir."

"Do not let me find you here upon my return. Otherwise you shall taste this bolt--and it shall be your last sensation."

Thunder shook the hall of the gods, and with a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus had gone.

Percy was alone in the throne room with his father.

Poseidon sighed. "Your uncle," he said, rubbing at his nose with a finger, "always did have a flair for dramatic exits. Perhaps he should relieve his son as the god of theater, no?"

Percy could find no proper response to such a question. He was not certain that, even though he was no longer present, his words would not reach the god's ears. "Sir," he said instead, "what was the thing in the pit?"

The god regarded him. "Have you not already guessed?"

He had. "Kronos. The Titan king."

Even in the throne room, as far away from the pit as could be, the name darkened the room, cooling the warmth of the hearth fire at his back.

Poseidon gripped his trident, a calming gesture. "At the close of the First War, Zeus cut our father, Kronos, into a thousand pieces, just as Kronos had down to his own father, Ouranos, a generation prior. Zeus then cast Kronos' remains into the darkest pit of Tartarus. The army of the Titans was scattered, their fortress destroyed, their monstrous allies driven to the furthest corners of the earth--yet the Titans cannot die, any more than we gods can. Whatever is left of Kronos is still alive, in some hideous way, conscious in his eternal pain, hungering for power."

"He's healing," he said. "He is returning."

But Poseidon shook his head. "Over the eons, Kronos has stirred. He will enter men's nightmares, breathing evil thoughts, awakening restless monsters from the depths. But to suggest that he could rise from the pit is another thing."

"That is what he intends, father!" Percy insisted. "That is what he desires!"

"My lord brother has closed discussion on this matter," he said. "He will allow talk of Kronos no longer. You have completed your quest, child. That is all you need to do."

"But--" Percy stopped himself. Arguing would do him no good, and would very possibly anger the only god who he had as an ally. "...As you wish, father."

A faint smile played on his lips. "I see that obedience does not come naturally to you, then."

Percy shrugged. "No, sir."

"I must take some blame for that, I suppose. The sea is a wild thing, and it does not like to be restrained." Grasping his trident, he rose to his full height, then he shimmered, shrinking until he became the size of any fisherman in Constantinople, standing before him. "You must go now, child. But first, know that your mother has been returned from the Underworld."

Percy gasped. "My mother?"

"Even the Lord of Death pays his debts. You will find her at her home."

His heart pounded in his chest. His mother, that wondrous woman, he had left to the tender mercies of Hades, and he had indeed been merciful. So overcome with emotion, he nearly asked if this god, this divine being, would accompany him home to see her. As if Poseidon would deign to walk the streets of Constantinople, mingling amongst the mortals. And besides… if he had thought to visit her all these years, there was not much that would have prevented him from already doing so. 

Poseidon’s eyes took on a little sadness, like clouds on the far off horizon. “When you return home, my son, there will be an important choice which you must make, and a parcel waiting for you there.”

“A parcel?”

“You will understand when you see it. This is my wisdom to you, Percy, that you must decide your own path. No one can choose it for you.”

He nodded, though he did not quite comprehend. 

His face cleared, then. “Your mother is a queen among women,” he said, wistful for his former paramour. “I had not met such a mortal woman in quite some time. And yet, I do feel some… regret, child, that you were born. I have doomed you to a hero’s fate, and a hero’s fate is never a happy one.”

Percy looked away, hoping that his hurt did not show. “I--I do not mind, father.”

“Not yet, perhaps,” he said. “Yet still, ‘twas an unforgivable error on my part.”

Percy bowed, stiff and awkward. He could not bear it any longer, and he knew a dismissal when he heard one. “I shall take my leave of you, then.”

But he had not taken five steps when he heard his father call his name again. “Perseus.”

He turned.

There was a different kind of light in his eyes, now, a sort of fiery pride. “Do not misunderstand me, Perseus. You did very well. Whatever else you do, know that you are mine, a true son of the sea god.”

As he walked back through the city of the gods, towards the dome of St. Sophia, conversations ceased. The muses paused their revelry. Satyrs and naiads, gods and goddesses, and all matter of immortal beings turned towards me, their faces filled with respect and gratitude, and as he passed, they knelt, paying tribute to a hero.

[naturecpw]

Killer whales that feast on seals and hunt in small packs are thriving while their widely beloved siblings are dying out.

illustration of an orca Melanie Lambrick  Story by Katharine Gammon

On a warm September afternoon, on San Juan Island off the northwestern coast of Washington State, I boarded J2, a sleek black-and-white whale-watching vessel. The boat was named after a locally famous orca, or killer whale, affectionately known as “Granny.” Until her disappearance in 2016, Granny was the matriarch of J-pod, one of the three resident orca groups, or pods, that live in the surrounding Salish Sea.

For what some experts think was more than a hundred years, Granny returned to these waters every summer, birthing babies and watching them grow. She taught her daughters and sons to hunt Chinook salmon, leading them to where the fish were fat and plentiful. She celebrated births and salmon feasts with other families in her clan, sometimes with as many as five generations side by side. She lived through the decades when humans captured her kin, and through the transformation of the local islands from rocky farms to wealthy urban escapes.

As the boat that bears Granny’s name slowed to cruise under the giant bridges connecting the evergreen-lined shores of the Fidalgo and Whidbey Islands, I heard the loud whoosh of breath exiting a blowhole. Soon, we saw the wet poufs of air erupting from the whales’ shiny black bodies, catching the sunlight. There were six orcas in all, a mother with five offspring ranging in age from one to 13. These whales aren’t members of J-pod or the other two resident orca pods that return to the Salish Sea every summer. They’re transients, showing up in the area only irregularly, and unlike the residents, they eat mostly marine mammals. Their names reflect the distinction: T37A, T37A1, T37A2, T37A3, T37A4, and T37A5. Unlike Granny and her giant group of salmon-eating family members, transient orcas travel in smaller packs and are known for their wily hunting abilities: They can tip a sheet of ice in order to catapult a seal into the sea, or take down a porpoise in midair.

The boat’s captain, Daven Hafey, paused to log the location in an app on his phone; whale-watching boats often record whale locations in order to aid biologists’ research. As we floated, the orca family cruised around a small cove a few hundred yards away. Their breath formed heart shapes as they exhaled.

Soon, they squeezed out of the narrow mouth of the cove and into the open water under the bridge. There, one spy-hopped in the air, poking its monochrome head straight up and looking around.

Suddenly, the whales disappeared, and a uniform ripple appeared on the water’s surface. A small seal was swimming near the rocky shoreline, and the orca family had used its massive collective bulk to send an underwater pressure wave racing toward it. A second ripple rose from the surface, and the seal, knocked off balance, disappeared. Very quickly, it was clear that the family had triumphed: Gulls circled overhead, eager to claim the bits of seal that the whales would leave behind.

This is the hunt, the daily fight of mammal-eating orcas. It’s a dance with these creatures, a constant balance of risk and reward—the more aggressive the prey, the more likely they are to be injured in the battle. While residents have to work together to hunt salmon, salmon don’t fight back. For the transients, Hafey said, every meal is a potential death match: “It’s as if every time you opened the fridge you had to have mortal combat with a turkey to get a sandwich.”

Granny and her kin are considered part of the same species as transient killer whales, Orcinus orca. But residents and transients have lived separate lives for at least a quarter-million years. They generally do their best to avoid each other, and they don’t even speak the same language—the patterns and sounds they use to communicate are completely different. Over time, each type has established cultural traditions that are passed from generation to generation. While transients’ small groups enable them to hunt more quietly and effectively, residents’ large extended families allow them to work together to locate and forage for fish. Biology isn’t destiny, but for orcas, food sources might be.

I grew up visiting these islands, and as I watched the transients hunt and snooze, I felt a sense of familiarity. Like the resident orcas I’d watched for years, the transients were massively intelligent, social creatures, skillfully making a living on a sunny afternoon. But the world these whales inhabit is quickly changing, and the old rules no longer apply. As the summer residents travel farther and farther, searching for the salmon they need, these once-scarce transients are rising to rule the Salish Sea.

In the summer of 2018, a resident orca named Tahlequah had a calf that was stillborn, or lived for a few minutes at most. Tahlequah carried her calf’s body through the water for more than two weeks, sometimes holding it in her mouth, sometimes nudging it along with her nose. She kept the small carcass afloat for some 1,000 miles, even as it began to disintegrate into strips of flesh.

Tahlequah’s story went viral, perhaps because her grief and desperation seemed so human. Kelley Balcomb-Bartok, who took a famous photograph of Tahlequah carrying her dead calf, told me the image spoke for itself: “That needed no messaging. It was a gut punch.”

Since the 1990s, the resident orcas have been the superstars of these islands—the most photographed, most studied, best-loved group of whales in the world. They have been featured in a movie (Free Willy); they have a museum dedicated to them; they have individual names and backstories; and they have fans who paint buses in their honor.

For many people, the relationship with the whales verges on the spiritual. “It’s hard to describe—it’s like meeting God,” said Balcomb-Bartok, who grew up on the islands and works in communications for whale-watching companies while compiling memoirs and sketches related to the orcas. “They’re so amazing and intelligent and powerful, and yet they are so gentle and so matriarchal and caring and compassionate. There is nothing quite like … the southern residents—the most playful and loving population that you’ll ever meet.”

But these island celebrities are slowly dying. Forty percent of the Chinook salmon runs that enter the Salish Sea are already extinct, and a large proportion of the rest are threatened or endangered. The fish that are still around are much smaller than their predecessors, forcing whales to work harder and swim more for their meals. The resident population now numbers only 74, down from 97 in 1996.

Meanwhile, the sea lion population on the West Coast, which was protected from hunting in the United States and Canada in the 1970s, has bounced back from near extinction and is close to its historic size. The mammal-eating transient orcas are thriving in part because of this boom: During the years that Tahlequah was believed to suffer a miscarriage and the death of her newborn calf, T37A birthed the five calves who now played by her side. The transient population, which in 2018 reached 349, grew at about 4 percent a year for most of the past decade, and is well on its way to replacing the residents as the dominant killer whale in the Salish Sea.

But many of the humans who love the orcas of the Salish Sea are ambivalent about the transients’ success. While the residents are well-known individuals, the transients are relative strangers. Even when they’re in the area, they’re harder to get to know, because their need for stealth means they surface less often. “There are people on whale-watching boats who are disappointed when they see transients and not residents,” Monika Wieland Shields, a biologist who runs the Orca Behavior Institute on San Juan Island, told me. “You’d think the general public would be interested—but there is this tangible phenomenon where they are disappointed by the transients.”

“We’re certainly getting to know the Ts,” says Mark Malleson, a Canadian whale-watching captain who has been contracting for Fisheries and Oceans Canada and collaborating with the Center for Whale Research as a research assistant since 2003. “Because they’re the new residents. The whale-watching industry was built on southern residents, and we just don’t see them much anymore.”

In the 1960s, unfounded rumors of killer whales’ ferocity and appetite for human flesh gained traction; fishers came to believe that orcas competed with them for salmon. Then, in 1964, the public got its first close look at the species. When the Vancouver Aquarium tried to capture and kill an orca for its specimen collection, it wounded a young orca instead, and the whale, dubbed “Moby Doll,” lived for a few months in Vancouver Harbor before dying from an infection. During its time in the bay, Moby Doll demonstrated just how intelligent and social orcas could be, and for some observers, a capitalistic light bulb went on: Orcas were good entertainment, and entertainment could make money.

Thus began the capture era, in which about 30 percent of the Salish Sea’s orcas—mostly residents, as they were more plentiful at the time—were swept up into captivity. In one particularly gruesome event near Whidbey Island, a floating pen was set up to separate orca mothers from their babies, as their piercing screams filled the air. “It was a sight and sound that would haunt the local residents forever,” Sandra Pollard, who wrote a book on the capture, said on the 50th anniversary of the event in August of last year. Pollard recounted one longtime resident whose children asked why the whales were crying.

By 1973, 48 whales had been captured and sold to aquariums around the world, and an additional 12 had died during the capture operations. In 1970, a young Canadian marine biologist named Michael Bigg was asked by the Canadian government to figure out how these captures were impacting killer whale populations. The next year, he created a census of whales that relied on sightings and soon after began to use photo identification to pinpoint individuals. Not everyone agreed with his methodology, but Bigg persisted. Armed with a budget from the Canadian government and considerable force of personality, he got to work—once even chartering a seaplane, landing near the whales, and persuading a fishing-boat captain to take him close enough to identify the animals. If he could photograph every whale in enough detail, he believed, he could begin to study them as individuals.

Bigg soon began mentoring a new generation of whale scientists, including Ken Balcomb, who now runs the Center for Whale Research in Friday Harbor, and John Ford, who was a graduate student under Bigg’s tutelage. Ford started a rigorous study of whale language, dropping hydrophones 40 feet into the water to document the dialects of different whale groups. He speculated that residents might tend to choose mates whose “accents” were different enough to signal a low risk of inbreeding. One of Ford’s students later did a genetic analysis that bore out this theory.

These researchers had also started to encounter scrappy little groups of whales living apart from the familiar large pods. There were fewer of them, and they had erratic, unpredictable movements. Bigg and his colleague Graeme Ellis called them “oddballs”—outcasts who didn’t fit in. They turned up in places the large pods didn’t go, and they would dive for long periods, twice as long as the other whales.

“It wasn’t clear what they were,” Ford, now retired as the head of the cetacean research program at Fisheries and Oceans Canada’s Pacific Biological Station, told me. “Mike felt they were possibly social outcasts from large groups, which is typical in social mammals, and that they were scratching out a living with low-profile behavior.” It was Bigg who started calling these scrappy outcasts “transients”—he thought they were in transit, moving like lone wolves through a pack’s territory. They had a pointier fin shape, and their gray saddle patches were large and often more scratched up than those of the residents. On a couple of occasions they were seen killing seals, though at the time it was thought that the residents ate seals, too.

When Ford started matching his hydrophone recordings with the photo surveys and eating profiles, he began to wonder if the transients were fundamentally different creatures. They were often quiet as they hunted, but when they shared prey they would break into a loud chattering, markedly different from the residents’ squeaks, whistles, and whines. After long days on the water, Bigg and Ford, along with other researchers, shared their thoughts and observations over the occasional beer, and gradually they concluded that the transients weren’t social outcasts but a distinct population with a different lifestyle.

In the late 1970s, the orca survey in Canada started to focus on the northern residents and transients, while Americans took up the work on the southern residents. Balcomb moved up to San Juan Island and began doing the survey with his team, which still counts and monitors the southern residents every year. Eventually, others began to take an interest in the summer residents beneath the waves: In 1986, a local car salesman got his captain’s license and started ferrying tourists out to see the resident orcas. Today, more than half a million people go whale watching around the islands every year.

Bigg was diagnosed with leukemia in the 1980s, but he continued to research and write until his final days. His ashes were spread in Johnstone Strait, British Columbia, where the whales are often seen. More than 30 orcas were present during the ceremony. “One whale in the group, G29, was seen with a new calf,” Ford said. Bigg had predicted that G29 would give birth to her first calf that year, so calf G46 was nicknamed “MB.” In Bigg’s honor, many scientists in recent years have begun to refer to transient whales as “Bigg’s killer whales.”

In 2005, when the southern resident orcas were listed under the U.S. Endangered Species Act, the population’s distinctive language, behavior, and habits were recognized as a unique culture. It was an unusual moment for the law to acknowledge that cultural diversity wasn’t limited to humans, and that it was worthy of protection in other species, too.

Last year on July 4th, the summer heat was finally beginning to warm the islands in earnest. Due to the coronavirus pandemic, none of the usual games or parades were going forward. And while the resident orcas had turned up on schedule, they weren’t acting like themselves.

There was no “superpod”—the giant annual party of all three southern resident groups—and the orcas weren’t lining up as they usually did to search for fish. “We are seeing much less in the way of traditional foraging, and a lot more traveling,” Monika Wieland Shields, the Orca Behavior Institute biologist, told me in July. “They are not staying here for long periods of time. They’ll come in, do one lap of their traditional circuit, and then move on. It’s almost like checking the fridge, checking the cupboard, and then they have got to go somewhere else to eat.”

Howard Garrett, who runs the Orca Network, a nonprofit organization that documents sightings of the whales, told me something similar: “They were scattered in 1-2-3s, very sporadic, no travel essentially, and no socializing except the mother-offspring group,” he said, behavior that could only be interpreted as the whales “searching every nook and cranny for a fish, each one of them looking for a crumb.”

The residents’ diet is more than 80 percent Chinook salmon, fish that just aren’t around much anymore. The Albion test fishery, which uses a gill net every day during the spring and summer to count fish coming from the Fraser River in British Columbia, caught a total of only 14 Chinook salmon from July 1 to July 12 last year. (In the same period of time in 1992, the fishery counted 384 Chinook salmon.) Without a reliable supply of fish, the resident orcas are beginning to behave more like transients. But, unlike the transients, they can’t just start eating squid, herring, or seals—they learn from birth that fish is their only food.

“They can’t change their diet,” Deborah Giles, an orca researcher with the University of Washington Center for Conservation Biology, told me. “Theoretically, they could, but I’m reluctant to say they will switch, because they have this deep, intense cultural direction from their moms not to eat that thing.” (By occupying different positions on the food chain, the residents and transients avoid competing with each other, lessening the likelihood of aggressive encounters.)

The transient orcas are changing their behavior as well, Shields told me. While they typically travel and hunt as small family units of three to five whales, she’s recently seen them traveling in groups of 20 to 40. The groups are almost like the resident superpods of years past, Shields said. Researchers have nicknamed them “T-parties.” “They’re definitely less focused on being stealthy and hunting,” Shields continued. It’s possible that mammal-eating orcas have such abundant food that they don’t need to spend as much time hunting—and can spend more time socializing.

While many tourists are entranced by the star power of the southern residents, others ask why we care so much about one type of orca when another is ready to take its place. “There are no other whales that are like them,” Giles said of the residents. “They are a unique tribe of beings that have been here for thousands of years in this region, foraging on abundant and fatty salmon. Because everything that is plaguing them is caused by humans, I feel that we have a deep responsibility to do everything we can to recover them. To preserve that uniqueness.”

In early September, the whale paparazzi were buzzing about a celebrity birth. Tahlequah, after losing her calf in 2018, had finally given birth to a healthy baby, and both whales and humans seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. A few days after the birth, the entire southern resident population formed in a superpod for the first time all year. Tahlequah and her new baby swam alongside the group; from nearby boats, tourists and researchers watched in awe.

Read: why killer whales (and humans) go through menopause

I called Darren Croft, a U.K.-based researcher with the Center for Whale Research, for a read on the event. He was both excited for the new calf and sad that he wasn’t in the Salish Sea to see it. “Also, one calf is not going to fix this population,” he said. “It’s certainly not a green light.”

Croft and his colleagues have shown that in the southern resident population, long-lived, post-reproductive females are important for the survival of offspring and grand-offspring. This “grandmother effect” is thought to be another distinctive feature of the population’s culture; only a handful of mammal societies are known to have female leaders—elephants are another example—and even fewer have leaders who have lived past their species’ equivalent of menopause.

Croft and others are beginning to learn more about transient orcas’ culture, trying to construct a map of the whales’ social networks. Part of the challenge is that while charting the residents’ lives—their births and deaths and movements—has been part of scientists’ work since the 1970s, the transients haven’t been studied to the same level.

While the residents’ sons and daughters stay with their moms for life, Croft said, both sexes of transient calves can disperse by the time they’re teenagers—presumably so the groups don’t get too big to hunt efficiently or to all share in the kill—or they may stay with their family group. There are still many open questions about the transients’ longevity and life history. Some recent observations are opening up new lines of research: A paper published this month describes how transients in the Salish Sea can intentionally strand themselves, hauling their bodies out on land, in order to hunt seals.

Many of the experts I spoke with fondly remembered the resident orcas splashing and playing before their precipitous decline. But some researchers are becoming fans of transient whales as well. The transients sharply increased their visits to the Salish Sea in 2017, and Shields told me it’s exciting to see those babies grow up. “We are getting to know them as they spend more time here,” she said. “It’s a learning curve: What is their history, and how can we help people connect to them?” But when I asked Shields and other researchers to name their favorite whale, not one named a transient.

One transient that has gained some individual notoriety is an all-gray whale who is a member of the T46B family. He is nicknamed “Tl’uk,” a word that means “moon” in the language of the Coast Salish Indigenous peoples of the Pacific Northwest. His color makes him appear white in the dark green of the water, and pictures of him have spread around the world. But his fame comes more from his appearance than his actions. As with so many transients, his life story has yet to be uncovered.

“It’s just very different,” Howard Garrett, of the Orca Network, said. “It’s sort of—instead of Cirque du Soleil, you get the traveling trapeze artist.” He quickly added that the transients are fascinating in many other ways. But, he said, “they don’t have that community-celebration feel when they’re around.”

Kelley Balcomb-Bartok, the naturalist who took the photo of Tahlequah and her dead calf, told me the notion of “good whales” and “bad whales” is ridiculous. So many of the qualities that people love in the residents are equally present in the mammal-eating orcas, he said: “The Bigg’s whales are playful: Once they hunt, they play. And they are family oriented. Their mothers still birth and carry them; they do it in just small matrilineal groups. They will mix and match. They will separate. If you go on one of those whale-watch boats, you’ll hear the naturalists talking about [Bigg’s whales] the same way we used to talk about the southern residents.”

The transients also face threats—boat traffic, toxicants in the waters—but nothing like the starvation that many experts see in the residents’ future. Humans have built dams and poured concrete into the estuary waters that salmon need to survive, but we have deliberately protected the seals and other pinnipeds that supply mammal eaters with an endless seafood buffet. We have created the conditions that caused Tahlequah to lose her babies but enabled T37A to birth five calves in 13 years.

In the Friday Harbor whale museum on San Juan Island, a small sign contrasts the feeding habits of transients and residents. The mammal eaters are said to be “attacking” their prey, while the fish eaters are merely “eating.” But no matter their culture, their goals are the same: to fill their bellies and have more babies. The whales don’t know that humans see one act of eating as more violent than the other.

The residents are speaking, loudly, to anyone who is listening. They are moving away from their summer homes, searching high and low for salmon they once found with ease. They are struggling to give birth, to keep their babies alive, to keep up with a rapidly shifting world. At the same time, the transients are quietly waiting to be heard.

Katharine Gammon

is a freelance science writer based in Santa Monica, California.                             This article is part of our Life Up Close project, which is supported by the HHMI Department of Science Education.            

https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2021/01/orcas-killer-whale-resident-transient/617862/?utm_source=pocket-newtab

Read: What the grieving orca tells us

Read: The lingering curse that’s killing killer whales

A Group of Orca Outcasts Is Now Dominating an Entire Sea          

Killer whales that feast on seals and hunt in small packs are thriving while their widely beloved siblings are dying out.   Katharine Gammon

[seyaryminamoto]

Matching Heartbeats: Sokkla Saturdays 2020

Day 7: Loyalty

On FF.net//On AO3

A/N: So very sorry for the late entry. I've been having some really serious computer problems lately, I was lucky I finished writing the chapter BEFORE tragedy struck, but it still took me a while to go over the whole thing so it'd be ready to be posted. It's been quite the ordeal of a weekend, ngl.

I'll leave more notes at the end. This is definitely the darkest of my entries so far, so even if there's concepts you dislike... try to bear with me :'D

He knew it. He knew from the start that frozen kid was going to be trouble, but who listens to Sokka? No one ever listens to Sokka. Even the tribe's children never listen to Sokka.

He couldn't stop scowling as he fit his warrior's outfit into place. He didn't have any armor, he was meant to craft his own with his father once he returned from the war… if he returned from the war. The very thought of never seeing him again, just as he'd never see his mother again, made him wish the likely, upcoming fight, would take him away just as well.

But no. He wasn't that weak, he wasn't that stupid: he was here to defend his people. That was what his father had tasked him with, and the women and children from the tribe would be safe with him. He hoped. As long as that damn flare hadn't been glimpsed by anyone Fire Nation, then perhaps they would be. Yet with the damn light beam that burst from the iceberg, just before that airbender tumbled out of it, right into his sister's arms, he couldn't take for granted that the Fire Nation wouldn't have noticed anything. In all likelihood, they'd come… and they might try to wipe out the village altogether. And he had no choice but to fight, even if he failed to stand against them.

He had practiced the traditional warriors' face-paint countless times in the past, with his father's supervision. He had continued doing so even after his father was gone, wondering if he'd ever wear it for a battle… he no longer wondered today. Without even glancing at his reflection in the basin of the hut he was preparing at, Sokka stepped out into the open as Katara and Kanna helped lead the women and children to safety.

It happened after he climbed his watch tower: a loud, machinery sound in the distance. He felt chills rushing down the nape of his neck and scowled: this couldn't be good. They were here. That shape he could see, hidden within the mist, had to belong to a Fire Nation ship.

And he was right, naturally: a massive, metal ship slowly traversed the icy waters, and Sokka clutched his weapons nervously as he watched it looming closer…

And then it stopped, right upon reaching the shore, cracking the ice lightly, as Sokka could see from where he stood at his watch tower. He swallowed hard and raised his gaze at the monumental ship… and then the ramp at its front was lowered with a loud, mechanical hiss. Sokka's whole body trembled as he waited, knowing the enemy would rush them in no time…

Footsteps upon the metal. Loud ones, multiple ones. Sokka frowned as a group of soldiers appeared at the top of the ramp, and he scanned them carefully: it wasn't his first time seeing Fire Nation soldiers in the flesh, but it had been a long time since he had last crossed paths with any of them. And while his anxiety was ramping up because of it, he still could pay enough attention to notice that they were flanking two people who weren't sporting a full soldiers' uniform.

"What is…?" he whispered, narrowing his eyes at the sight of them…

An old man, and a young woman. Both were shorter than the uniformed soldiers, and they were studying their surroundings carefully, it seemed. They walked side by side until they reached the end of the ramp… and then the soldiers lingered back, close to the ship, while the two people who wore lighter armor approached the Tribe's enclosure.

"Ah, but this is quite the freezing environment, isn't it?" the old man said, smiling carelessly at his companion. She scoffed.

"What else could you have expected in the South Pole, Uncle, really?" she said.

The area was silent enough for Sokka to understand their words perfectly. He frowned as he gazed at them, wondering if he should speak up… and just then, the young woman's eyes took to studying his watch tower… to studying him.

He felt the air leaving his lungs, and wondered if perhaps that girl was an airbender like Aang, to make him effectively breathless that way. Or maybe he was just too nervous, too anxious, and terrified of the possible consequences that would come from this encounter with likely firebenders…?

"You, up there," the young woman called to him. Sokka froze. "We come in peace. Find your leader, so we may speak with whoever they are."

"Peace?" Sokka repeated quietly, before raising his voice. "You've just barged into enemy territory on a ship like that, and you expect me to believe you're here to make friends?"

"Well, what else could I be here for?" she replied, with a sarcastic grin. Sokka's stomach sank. "Do tell. Are you hiding anything in your funny huts that I might make use of?"

"Like hell we are! Go back to your rotten nation and leave us be!" Sokka rebuffed, raising his boomerang in an intimidating gesture that he knew would fail.

"We can't quite do that," she said, simply. "Find your leader, I said. We don't have much time."

"Find our leader?" Sokka repeated. "Well, as things stand right now? You're speaking to him! I'm the Tribe's leader!"

"You… no way," she snorted, smiling as she placed her hands on her hips. "The Southern Water Tribe has only one teenager manning their defenses, and he's the tribe leader, too?"

"Maybe we're in the wrong place," the old man suggested, stroking his beard.

"It's possible," his niece replied, still staring at Sokka pointedly. "But it's the closest settlement to the flare, isn't it? And we did see the Avatar skipping about in the ice earlier…"

"I can only hope I'm that flexible and nimble when I'm that age," the man laughed. His niece scoffed.

"You can't even finish climbing the tower's stairs without your knees aching, Uncle…"

"I can work out and regain my good shape, Princess Azula, no need to shame me for not exercising often these days…"

Sokka's eyes widened upon overhearing those words: Princess Azula, he'd said? And they were talking about… the Avatar? Did they believe Aang was the Avatar? If so… then he definitely needed protecting, rather than banishing. Curses, why did everything have to be so complicated…?

"Y-you… you're the Fire Nation Princess?" Sokka asked. She frowned but glared at him, no longer distracted by her uncle.

"Something like that," she said. "Feel more willing to help us track down your Avatar now? Or will this pointless back and forth continue until we freeze to death standing out here?"

Sokka snarled, uneasy. If Aang was the Avatar, he couldn't hand him over to the Fire Nation, not even if they allegedly had come in peace. How could he ever trust a claim like that? Fire Nation people were ambitious, and surely deeply treacherous… these two couldn't be any different. Even from up here, Sokka could tell they were intelligent… they were likely strategists, hoping to trick them somehow. And whatever game they thought they'd play at the expenses of his people, he refused to go along with it.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, so get out and find your Avatar someplace else. We don't have any Avatars here," Sokka declared. The Princess below scoffed.

"Really, now? So that skipping airbender we saw wasn't the Avatar? You're harboring other air nomads here, then? Fine, they'll be useful at tracking down the real thing anyway…"

"There's no one here! No airbender!" Sokka shouted. "There's only women and children inside these walls, and you won't find any Avatars or airbenders or…!"

A sudden, whooshing sound caused the Princess and the uncle to turn sharply to their right: something was rushing their way through the snow. The Princess took up a defensive firebending form immediately, but her uncle spread an arm before her as the shape came closer…

"A child?" the Princess said so softly Sokka nearly failed to hear her: he turned towards the noise as well only to feel his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach.

Aang was back, surely hoping to help the tribe. Oh, curse that boy and his good heart, why would he choose to return just now?!

"Aang! Go back! Get out!" Sokka shouted, but the young airbender's penguin simply continued to rush towards the two Fire Nation Royals.

Both Azula and her uncle had to leap out of the way so the penguin could continue onwards: the airbender, however, leapt off the creature's back and stood between them and the tribe, holding his staff while gazing at them steadily.

"You're the airbender? The Avatar? A… child?" Azula said, blinking blankly.

"Well, you're just a teenager," Aang said, simply, though he wasn't sure his response warranted as loud a bout of laughter from the old man beside the Princess. "Uh… what's so funny?"

"Ah, it's such a relief! He is a child! See, Princess, no amount of exercise will ever be enough for me to jump around the way he did, ahaha…!"

"Stop giving excuses not to stay fit, Uncle!" Azula hissed. "We're in no position to afford laziness, or sloppiness, and you're indulging in both by neglecting your health and training!"

"Uh… what's going on?" Aang said, blinking blankly before glancing up at Sokka on his tower.

"I know just about as much as you do, buddy," Sokka said, grimacing. "Though… sorry for kicking you out. And thanks for coming back."

"My banishment is lifted?" Aang asked, smiling weakly. Sokka shrugged and hung his head.

"Guess so. Though this isn't over," Sokka said, frowning as he picked up his spear. "You two… last chance. Go back to your ship, and the airbender there won't hurt you."

"Ah, nonsense. Airbenders won't hurt anyone unless it's self-defense," the old man declared proudly. The Princess breathed out and glanced at the young boy before her.

"We're not here to hand you over to Fire Nation authorities, Avatar," she said. Both Aang and Sokka frowned. "If you truly are who we believe you are… then we'll be the very best allies you'll find if you have any hopes to bring back balance to the world."

"You… what?" Aang said.

Sokka frowned heavily and jumped, slipping down his tower and landing right next to Aang – by the tribe's front gates, Katara lurked, gazing out at the debate between the two Fire Nation visitors, her brother and her friend: where both Sokka and Aang were reluctant, dubious, the old man couldn't seem to stop smiling in a disarming manner… while his niece offered them a steeled glare, sharper than a blade, more unyielding than the sturdiest of metals:

"We need you to help us defeat the Fire Lady."

Where the villagers no doubt had expected a confrontation, they had found, instead, a diplomatic visit, of sorts. The soldiers had stayed aboard the ship, leaving the two royals to deal with the discussions and to convince the skeptical teenagers and the young Avatar to join their cause: it wouldn't be easy, but Azula was certain it could be done.

"I'm pretty confused as it is, but I guess I'll hear you out," the Avatar decided, smiling as they sat at the central fireplace of the village: Azula and Iroh sat with them, while the rest of the villagers – just as the warrior had claimed, women and children – watched from a safe distance. Acceptable, understandable caution, all things considered.

"What's this about a Fire Lady?" the warrior asked, frowning as he stared at Azula. "Last I knew, it was a Fire Lord who was throwing the world out of balance. When did that change?"

"To be precise? Five years ago," Azula said, simply. The warrior appeared perplexed, but curious enough to continue listening anyway.

"Our dad left about four years ago…" the teenage girl said, glancing at him with unease. "I guess we haven't heard from anything in the outside world since then… and even before that, news didn't spread much either."

"Naturally. You're in the South Pole, and with the war's politics being what they are…" Iroh said, shaking his head "Everyone has taken to isolating, instead of thinking clearly: a coalition between Earth Kingdom, Water Tribe and Fire Nation rebel forces would more than suffice to topple my sister-in-law's regime."

"Your sister-in-law?" the warrior repeated.

"My mother," Azula said, curtly. The words seemed to send a powerful ripple of confused understanding through all her three new acquaintances.

"Y-your mom…?" said the Avatar.

"She is the Fire Lady. Has been, since Fire Lord Azulon died mysteriously on the night he demanded for my brother to be killed to punish my father's transgressions," Azula explained, gritting her teeth. Sharing such memories with strangers wasn't easy, despite she had grown used to discussing them in recent times. "My father was crowned on the next day. He was dead too, within the week."

"Wait… your mom killed them?" asked the warrior, aghast. "Y-you're saying…"

"I'm saying she's leading the Fire Nation as we speak. Has been, for the past six years," Azula said, staring at the young man intently. "She has avoided every political reprieve sent her way, hell knows how, and ensured to stay on the throne under the guise of being my brother's regent: he will come of age within a few months, and once he does, he'll be Fire Lord in her stead. One step out of line, however, and…"

"You keep saying that, Azula, but I doubt Ursa would kill Zuko…" said Iroh. Azula scoffed.

"I'm her daughter. She banished me. I know she prefers him over me, but that hardly makes her an innocent person, let alone is she incapable of protecting her own interests to the point of sacrificing her own family," Azula snarled.

"Why did your mother banish you?" the warrior's sister asked. "That's awful!"

"She found a petty excuse, started an argument I didn't back down from. Demanded that I should be taught respect and tasked me with tracking down the Avatar and handing him over to her to prove my loyalty and worth to my nation," Azula explained, rolling her eyes. "I have no intentions of doing such a thing, if you expected otherwise: I don't trust that woman. Even calling her my mother revolts me. That she killed my father is…"

"Now, now, Azula…" Iroh said, patting his niece's back. She flinched away from his touch, but attempted to focus again.

"She sent my uncle Iroh with me, because he's yet another threat to her ill-gotten throne," Azula declared. "The two of us were investigating, looking into both my father and grandfather's deaths, if independently… and she knew it was only a matter of time before we unearthed solid evidence of foul play. Granted, the situation is as fishy as can be, as things stand, but…"

"But she has managed to play everything off as a coincidence so far," said Iroh, grimacing. "I wasn't in the Fire Nation when she took the throne… by the time I arrived, she was much too comfortable on her seat. I couldn't do anything but offer my assistance to Azula, and hope to guide Zuko away from her, but…"

"But you'd never succeed at that," Azula said, bitterly. "My brother is the only one who's better off with this arrangement. I don't think I ever saw him quite so happy."

"I guess he's the favorite kid?" Sokka asked. Azula scoffed.

"Hers? Yes. Iroh's, too. He's stuck with me because he has no choice."

"Oi! I do appreciate you, Azula! We've been scheming together for three years now!"

"That's no evidence to contradict my claim," Azula said, dismissively. Iroh's outrage amused the Avatar and his female friend slightly, though the warrior only continued to watch the Princess pointedly. "My father did favor me, and he wasn't kind to my brother. Neither was my grandfather, who outright asked for him to be executed, so…"

"What a messed-up family," sighed the warrior, shaking his head. "So you two don't like each other but are stuck together, your mom is in the Fire Nation grooming your brother into being her perfect brainwashed tool, and your dad is dead, and your grandpa is dead too because he wanted to have your brother killed? Is that how it is?"

"Uh… yeah. More or less," Azula said. He sighed.

"And what exactly do you expect to accomplish next?" he asked. "You want Aang to help you take down your mom? You're on some quest for revenge or something?"

"You could say that, yes," Azula said. He scoffed.

"And how do I know you're not simply going to hand him over to Fire Nation authorities, so your banishment gets revoked and you're free to live your life as you wish?"

"You'd know it if you'd known me for longer than you have," Azula replied, with a dry grin. "I'm no fool: I don't long for my mother's approval, I want her held accountable for her crimes. Even if I went home, and she pretended to love me and accept me because I brought her the Avatar, it would amount to nothing more than a pretense. Within another two years she'd find another excuse to get rid of me, and where would I find anyone else to help me depose her then?"

"But the problem is your mom, right? Not your brother," said the Avatar, tapping his chin. "So if he becomes Fire Lord… wouldn't we have to fight him instead?"

"You don't truly believe that my mother, after all her scheming, would set down her crown and throne and leave my brother to rule without her 'guidance', do you?" Azula asked, skeptical. "She'll control him, without his awareness. A puppeteer, you could say, ensuring the Fire Lord doesn't go astray, meaning, she intends to retain his loyal to her at all costs. My brother isn't the problem, it's her."

"And how do you plan on defeating her, without causing him any trouble?" the warrior asked. "I feel like if we help you guys, and you're not tricking us at all, we'll end up going from one problem to the next: take out the Fire Lady, and her son will follow on her footsteps and set the whole world on fire. Right?"

"That's exactly why our intent isn't as violent as you may think," Iroh said, with a weak grin. "I assumed the Avatar would be old… perhaps too old to be of use. But he's young! And, I'm sure, inexperienced with all four elements. Right?"

"Uh… I'm afraid so," the Avatar admitted, with a lukewarm grin.

"Then the course is clear! He must learn all the elements before becoming the protector of harmony in our world," Iroh grinned. "Though… I don't know if you can learn waterbending here. Last I knew, Fire Lord Azulon had…"

"Attacked our tribes, countless times?" asked the warrior, scowling.

"I'm the last waterbender left in the South Pole," the sister announced, sadly. Azula grimaced.

"Then… ugh. It means he'd have to learn up north instead," said Azula, glancing at Iroh… to find him grinning madly, of course. "Well, then. Out with it. You have an idea, don't you?"

"A lot of them, actually," he giggled. "Pakku is in the North! And Bumi in the Earth Kingdom. I can be the firebending teacher, and…"

"Bumi?!" exclaimed the Avatar, his eyes wide. "Y-you know Bumi? Wait, how do you know Bumi? Is Bumi still alive?! I thought I'd been frozen for a hundred years!"

"Uh… huh. That explains your youth, at least," said Iroh. Azula grimaced, resolving to explain more about that particular matter later. "And… yes. I believe King Bumi is well past his hundred years. If you know him… then all the better! I can see to it that you train and develop your skills as the Avatar little by little, young man. What do you say?"

"Well, I say we have to think about it," the warrior declared, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not to look a gift ostrich horse in the beak, but…"

"Can I come too?!"

"K-Katara?!"

Despite the Avatar appeared nervous, it seemed he would agree to their proposal, and the waterbender was absolutely stoked about joining them, too: the warrior was the only one with obvious doubts, and while Azula held his accusatory, distrustful gaze with relentless defiance, Iroh only laughed and clapped cheerfully.

"It seems we have quite the journey ahead of us!" he declared, deliberately ignoring the warrior's obvious displeasure, focusing only on the far more cheerful and agreeable response of the waterbender.

Azula guessed the warrior boy might be trouble, and yet she couldn't blame him for it in the least: the readiness of the other two to trust them was surprisingly agreeable and yet proof of how innocent and gullible they were. They were rather fortunate that they had no ill-intentions indeed, Azula reasoned, after she returned to her ship that day: the soldiers welcomed her, ever ready to obey her every command. The highly questionable Fire Lady, in whose veins did not flow any royal blood, had failed to charm every soldier to her favor. Where she had hoped, no doubt, to get rid of her most dangerous opponents by tossing them in the sea with the least reliable soldiers in her army, her decision had been double-edged: Azula and Iroh had joined forces, and within less than a few months, the entire ship answered to them, and only to them. It was one starting point of rebellion, one Azula hoped they'd be able to expand further… but only after they gained enough political relevance and power to challenge her mother's rule, and her brother's, if it came to that. The Avatar was the key to achieving that goal.

Noise by the ramp surprised Azula as she paced on deck. She stepped close to the ship's railing to find the warrior boy, naturally, had approached the ship. What did he want? Shouldn't he be packing, or resting, before setting out on their long voyage?

Despite her better sense told her otherwise, Azula made her way down to the ramp indeed, finding the soldiers had been reluctant to let him through. The warrior pouted rather childishly, and she sighed as she stepped between the soldiers and himself, startling him when he failed to notice her presence.

"Do you need something?" she asked, directly. His childish expression faded quickly.

"Just… wanted to talk," he said, raising his hands defensively. "I won't do anything bad, I promise."

"Hmm. You promise, then," Azula said, releasing a breath before ordering the soldiers to let him through.

The two made their way to the deck, a small walk Azula found no wonders in, considering she'd traversed the full extent of her ship countless times in the past. To the warrior beside her, however, it was likely the first Fire Nation battleship he had ever entered. His amazement was apparent… and yet he voiced no compliments, containing his amazement as best he could. And while he studied his future means of transportation, Azula studied him: he was perhaps slightly older than her, and yet burdened with a much more dangerous duty than he himself had likely ever realized. Where Azula would have been forced to stay in her brother's mediocre shadow, if her mother had her way, this young warrior was expected to protect his people at all costs…

"So… what do you need to talk about?" she asked him, as they came to a halt on the deck. He grimaced.

"Well… I'm just worried," he said, earnestly. "Look, I'm sorry for what your mom's done, and I really don't know how I'd react if anything like that had ever happened to me, but… are you against the Fire Nation? Or just against her?"

"You're wondering if I'll want to continue the war after she's defeated and replaced?" Azula asked. He swallowed hard and nodded.

"I just… don't know where your loyalties really lie. And I think I should, before we join you in this trip. I don't know if I can trust you."

"I never did ask you to trust me, did I?" she said, plainly, but he scoffed.

"Just by asking us to join forces with you, or rather, asking Aang… you're silently asking me to entrust the best hope this world has to you. Maybe you didn't say the words directly, but you're asking for trust anyway. And…"

"And you'd be a fool to give it to me blindly when we've only just met," Azula concluded. The warrior released a breath… perhaps relieved she understood his plight. "My father trusted my mother, no doubt: she took advantage of that trust to kill him. Do you really think I'd be so stupid as to ask for trust… or to give it?"

He froze in place, their eyes holding each other's gaze firmly. Both of them had been through their own set of struggles, she realized that… but if he had come here looking for a heartfelt speech about how good a person she was, he was out of luck. Azula had no intentions to…

He smiled.

She blinked twice, and then he sighed, hanging his head while setting his hands on his hips.

"You know what? I can live with that," he said. Azula raised her eyebrows, puzzled.

"With… not being trusted?" she asked. He nodded.

"The Avatar's dead-sure his bison thing can fly, you know?" he said. "If you or your creepy uncle do anything on this trip that we can't accept… well, I'll be grabbing my two dorks, climbing on that saddle and getting as far from you guys as possible. And as you're not going to ask for trust, or give it, that should be fine by you, right?"

"It is, actually," Azula said, simply. "While I'd rather have the Avatar on my side… it's not a necessity either, despite Iroh is certain of the opposite. We're loyal to our own causes and purposes, and there's no reason why it should be any different. This is an alliance of convenience, nothing more."

"Sounds right to me," he said, extending his hand towards her. "By the way… my name is Sokka. I heard your uncle calling your name before, so… figured it was a good idea to tell you mine."

"Sokka, then?" she repeated, before raising a hand to clasp his. "Very well. Let's… not trust each other."

"Perfect," Sokka grinned.

It was an odd arrangement… yet one that brought a smile to Azula's face just as well. She had the strange feeling she could grow used to the warrior's presence, despite everything…

Their long journey began on the next day, after the three new passengers climbed aboard the ship, once they said their farewells to their fellow tribespeople. The journey to the North Pole would be long, and Azula wondered if those three would be able to endure the trappings of the steel ship without complaint… strangely, the Avatar was the most restless of the group, often taking off on gliding trips unless they neared any Fire Nation watchtowers. The waterbender had been quite eager to manipulate the seawater they were coursing through… but just as expected, she wasn't skilled enough to bend anything impressive yet.

The warrior was the least restless one, Azula had thought… until he happened upon her training with Iroh on the ship's deck one day. The old man often told her to take her drills calmly, to focus on her basics… but she didn't have time to take it easy. Her blue fire needed to be strengthened further, that was all there was to it…

"The source of firebending… isn't aggression," Iroh had said to her, on one afternoon. Azula scoffed and glared.

"Really? And that's why the way to conjure fire is by hugging people, right?"

"You misunderstand," Iroh sighed. "But hopefully you'll see in time. Firebending is an art… it isn't merely a means to an end. You can channel your rage through it… but that won't make you any stronger than you would be if you fought calmly, in direct contact with your inner fire."

"That's too bad," Azula hissed back. Iroh shook his head and made to leave… only stopping on his tracks upon finding someone stood by the threshold of the tower, watching them.

Sokka flinched and stepped out of the way, offering Iroh a guilty grin before glancing at Azula. The exiled Princess scowled at first, but surely he didn't bear any nefarious intent in mind, going by that goofy smile across his face.

"That… that was pretty impressive," he said, biting his lip. "Your fire… it's pretty cool, you know? That it's blue… it's not like everyone else's, right?"

"Indeed," Azula replied, bluntly.

"It's a sign of strength, I figure? Or something?" Sokka continued. "Well, whatever it may be a sign of… you're pretty good with your fire. Which, well, isn't something I ever thought I'd say to a firebender, but times change…"

"I guess they do," Azula said, raising her eyebrows. "I suppose you're quite bored if you're watching my attempts to train…"

"Well… bored and a little curious," Sokka admitted, grinning awkwardly. "I thought I was ready to fight you before, but I guess I wasn't. I just… wanted to ask if it's okay if I train with you once in a while? You know, polish my skills…"

"Polish your skills?" Azula repeated, a hint of amusement crossing her face. "Why… I suppose that'd be fine, yes."

Sokka grinned brightly and rushed inside to collect his weapons when she told him to. By the time he returned, he was stretching and smirking proudly.

"Well, I sure hope you're ready, Princess. You haven't seen what I can do so far, so I think I have an advantage," he said, raising his club in her direction. Azula smirked too.

"Oh, the horror," she said, sarcastically. He flinched as she took up a stance. "Give me your best shot. You'll regret it if you don't."

And he did regret it, of course: as much as he tried, he couldn't seem to avoid the power of those blue flames. He dodged clumsily, attacked even more clumsily, but to Azula's amusement, he never asked for respite. He didn't beg for her to stop attacking. He was stubborn… and that was a good thing.

She defeated him on every round that day. He seemed discouraged for it, lying against the ship's railing while breathing heavily, his body overheated despite it was still rather cold. She approached him with a slightly more sympathetic smile than intended, taking her seat beside him.

"You're not very experienced in combat. That's all there is to it," she said. "Train with me some more, and you'll be able to withstand the strongest of firebenders without breaking a sweat."

"You sure?" Sokka asked, grimacing. "I thought I'd made a fool of myself…"

"Oh, you did, but it was a lot of fun. I can stand for a few more reasons to be amused," she said, grinning at him. He snorted and laughed, shaking his head.

"Great. I'm a laughingstock for the Princess. Just what I hoped for," he said, dropping his head against the railing.

"And what else were you hoping for?" she asked.

"Uh… respect of equals?" he said. She snorted and laughed outright, surprising him. "What? You don't have to laugh that hard…"

"You and I aren't equals, Sokka. On any level," she said, smiling at him. "Not yet, anyway. More training is required, without a doubt, if that's what you're looking for."

"Then I'll oblige," he said, smirking too. "You think I'll back away from a challenge just because you're pretty… uh, pretty intimidating?"

"Ah. I'm pretty?" she said. He grimaced and blushed.

"That's not what I said! I was just… looking for the right word!"

"Sure you were: pretty. That was it," Azula smiled. He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

"Is this a thing girls do?" he asked, flustered. "Turning a guy's words against him mercilessly just because they feel like it?"

"I have no idea. Bu it's certainly something I do," she said, grinning at him.

She hadn't had much of a chance to try her luck with boys so far – she had been banished three years ago, and too busy trying to harvest evidence to prove her mother was up to no good on the years before that to look for any suitable matches. But if she wasn't misreading the situation… this warrior might actually harbor more than a wish for mutual respect for her. She wouldn't mind it much, if he did. He was easy on the eyes himself, there was no denying that…

"Guess I'll have to get used to it, then?" he said, smiling back at her. "Or… maybe I could, uh, try my luck at it too? You know, if you ever say I'm handsome…!"

"I'd never say that," Azula declared, proudly. Sokka scoffed.

"You could say 'hand', and right after, 'some', and then I could misinterpret it just as you did right now…" he said. Azula laughed.

"How so?" she smiled. "'Get your hand some ice, because I burned it so badly'?"

"See? There you go. You think I'm handsome too," Sokka declared. Azula laughed again, dropping her head against the railing as he smiled at her. "Alright, jokes aside… you have a nice smile, you know?"

"I'm not taking any of it as a joke, mind you," Azula declared. "But, truthfully I… haven't had much of a reason to smile for the past six years."

"Yeah… I can tell," Sokka whispered. "And I don't blame you. Though… at first I figured you got along better with Iroh than you do. You two seemed to be on the same page when you were at the tribe's doorstep… guess I just jumped to conclusions, huh?"

"I did say Zuko was his favorite, didn't I?" Azula said, her smile waning. "Truthfully… my mother assumed we would never be able to work together. That's why she exiled us this way, and she would have been correct in her assessment… if only Iroh and I weren't slightly sharper than she hoped we'd be. Even if we can't stand each other's guts, the bigger picture is the priority. Whatever happens after we've dealt with my mother, Iroh and I will work together until she's defeated. That's simply how it is."

"Your family really feels… awful," said Sokka, grimacing. "Not just that your mother's the worst person in the planet right now, apparently… but you can't even rely on your uncle even if you've been traveling with him for three years? I… can't imagine how difficult it must be to live this way."

"Your people have a rather different culture from mine," Azula said, simply. "Family… matters more to you. Far more than it matters to us, apparently."

"You're trying to do right by yours, though. In your own way," Sokka said.

"Am I?" Azula said. "You weren't wrong to say this is a quest of revenge. I don't even know how far it will take me, and even if it's my father I hope to avenge, I'll…"

"You'll fight and maybe even kill your own family?" Sokka asked, frowning. Azula shrugged.

"Is there any other choice?" she asked. "My mother isn't a firebender, but she will have all the strongest soldiers of our nation defending her. She will gain all the advantages she can obtain, anything to stay on the throne, or close enough to it, once my brother takes office. How can I pretend I'll defeat her through anything less than that?"

"She's still your mother," said Sokka, eyeing her with uncertainty.

"He was her husband. I am her daughter. Didn't stop her," Azula said, closing her eyes.

Sokka swallowed hard but conceded once he fell silent. Perhaps he knew there were some things in life you couldn't fix just by talking them out… perhaps he knew there were some people no one could fix with just a heartfelt conversation. If so, she certainly had been rather lucky to have it with him, rather than anyone who might have been more forceful about making her abide by their ideals…

"Will you… train with me again tomorrow?" Azula asked, softly. He blinked blankly but glanced at her with a weak grin.

"If you'll have me, sure thing," he said, grinning. Azula smiled and nodded.

They continued to train hard across the next weeks of their long journey: the weather changed as they progressed north, prompting Sokka to occasionally train with sleeveless shirts and, on one fatefully hot day, outright shirtless. It was outrageous… and yet she had been so distracted he had nearly beaten her for the first time on the day he had first done so. Utterly embarrassing.

She spent more time with him than she ever meant to, than she did with most everyone else. Iroh had taken to spending more time with the Avatar, and he offered the waterbender frequent advice, but the warrior… he seemed to be drawn to her. To find more common ground with her, to feel safer with her than with the soldiers, or her uncle… and it was strange. It felt right, even if her mind said it was wrong. For she was growing used to him… and she didn't think that was wise. She was supposed to stand strong, to need nothing, no one… and she certainly didn't need this boy. But… did he need her? Sometimes, when he gazed at her with those clear blue eyes after their sparring was done, she wondered if he did. And she also wondered what that would mean for her, if that was the case.

The Northern Water Tribe was magnificent, yet a dreadful mirror that reflected how miserable and downtrodden his own tribe was, back home. Sokka had been amazed by it until that reality had dawned on him… he gazed at Azula, finding she seemed utterly unconcerned with the regal glory of the location, focusing instead on preserving her body heat as best she could. She was used to this opulence… if anything, she probably felt at home with it. It suited her, Sokka thought, to a fault… what if she dressed up in a Water Tribe parka? Then it could match her blue fire, why not…?

He shook his head quickly as they were ferried into the depths of the tribe on a canoe that Iroh had somehow arranged for them. He'd been having strange thoughts about Azula for a while now, thoughts he was sure he shouldn't have. She was so driven, so determined, so set on her goals… becoming her sparring partner had been a good idea, both for her and himself, as even though he had never defeated her, his combat abilities had increased greatly with her as his opponent, or at least, he thought they had. He had more stamina and he had learned many things regarding how to read a bender's next movements. Seeing as she was a firebender, he expected that what he'd learned would come in handy in the future.

But that was it, wasn't it? He'd said it himself: he didn't trust her, and neither did she trust him. As far as he could tell, she didn't trust anyone, not even her uncle… and considering what she'd been through, he didn't blame her for that. Yet the more he sympathized with her, the less he distrusted her… was that healthy? Was it a good idea to like her better than he should have…? With every glance he stole in her direction, he knew in his mind it wasn't, but in his heart…

They were welcomed with pomp and splendor, and Sokka felt more and more out of place with each passing moment. He wasn't sure why he felt so inadequate, or why he felt the need to stand beside Azula throughout the whole matter… perhaps he feared this was some sort of trap, too. That the northerners would consider them traitors, and would capture Aang, Azula and Iroh and send them giftwrapped to the Fire Lady… even the welcoming smiles of the local Princess, who seemed to get along fairly well with Katara as they sat together during the welcoming feast, didn't reassure him at all. And the balding, bitter man Iroh had proposed as Aang's new waterbending teacher didn't help matters much either.

Maybe he was simply used to expecting the worst from people, at this point: on the next day, Master Pakku accepted Aang as his student gladly, and rejected Katara, outright, for he refused to teach women how to fight. Sokka had spent most that day waiting for Azula to finish her meetings with Iroh and the tribe's leaders when Katara stormed in, revealing her outrageous struggle to him.

"He's a jerk! Why wouldn't I be allowed to fight just because I'm a girl?" Katara exclaimed. "He wants me to learn healing? I've never healed anyone with bending! I know other techniques to do that, but not with bending! What if I can't heal someone, and I waste all my valuable time here learning something I can't even do?!"

"Uh… I don't know?" said Sokka, grimacing: the door swung open then, and Katara glanced at Azula and Aang, who had arrived at the same time.

"You okay, Katara…?" Aang asked. Katara huffed.

"Of course I'm not! That Master Pakku is the worst!" she exclaimed.

"Why's that?" Azula asked, raising her eyebrows. "I suppose I shouldn't take for granted that any of my uncle's associates are worthwhile, but… I had hoped he wasn't completely worthless."

"Well, he thinks I can't learn waterbending combat because I'm a girl," said Katara. Sokka grimaced, glancing at Azula with uncertainty, wondering what her reaction would be…

"Wow. And here I assumed these people were civilized," Azula said, with a sarcastic grin. Katara grinned brightly at the obvious, expected support from a successful, powerful female warrior. "So much opulence and fancy halls, and yet they're the most backwards nation I've seen, if this is how it is."

"Well, it's not like we were much better off down south…" Katara admitted, shooting a glare at Sokka. "Someone had a thing for telling me I should stay back and let him handle all the fighting, or, how was it? 'Leave it to a girl to mess everything up'?"

"Hey! Not like I was wrong, was I? You kept soaking my clothes!" Sokka pouted.

"Not the point! Me being a girl has nothing to do with whatever I can do with my bending!" Katara declared. "And that stupid, uptight, stick-in-the-mud Master Pakku…"

"You… seriously said that kind of stuff?"

Sokka froze in place: it felt like his heart had stopped upon hearing Azula speak with such stark disapproval to him. He grimaced under her skeptical stare: just what he needed, the girl he liked would think he was a…

The girl he liked? That thought alone jumpstarted his heart again immediately.

"It's not… it's not really like that?" Sokka smiled awkwardly. "I mean, big brothers always mess with their sisters, right?"

"Right," said Azula, dryly. Sokka grimaced: she didn't believe him. Oh, hell, she didn't believe him. She turned towards Katara again, though, with a proud grin. "Well, then… I guess you need a solution for your dilemma. And I think I need a new sparring partner too, so…"

"W-what?! Hey! That's not…!"

"What do you say we give that Master Pakku a rather alarming surprise?" Azula suggested, smirking at Katara. Sokka could swear he had never seen his sister's eyes glisten so brightly.

"I have no idea what you have in mind… but the answer is yes. Absolutely, yes," Katara said, beaming.

Master Pakku would obviously expect that the stubborn waterbender would rebel against him. Thus, Azula recruited even Aang for her plan: the Avatar was perplexed over his role, but apparently, walking at night across several ice streets, on his way to a supposed hiding place, was as good a plan as any.

Sokka, of course, was barred from joining the plan. Azula wasn't sure why she was so outraged, she wasn't completely surprised that women would be dismissed as irrelevant in combat by certain cultures… but perhaps it had something to do with the suspicion that he wouldn't have held back against her, not even on their first encounter. He had sparred with her constantly, failing to defeat her… and not once had he voiced any dismissing words or thoughts like those Katara had credited to him. Maybe it was true, and he was merely an annoying older brother… or maybe it wasn't true, and he simply didn't see Azula as a woman.

And why, oh, why did that thought bother her so damn much?

She was being an idiot, she knew, but she had no time to think about that. Instead, she encouraged Katara to step closer to the nearest stream, and the waterbender did as much, most willingly.

"Now, then… follow my lead. Only, bring water with you, and perform the movements with me," Azula decided. Katara nodded.

"Then… I'll learn fire-waterbending?" she smiled. Azula shrugged.

"Seems like it. Now, then, pay attention to the sequence of my movements… every last one of them."

Azula shifted from kata to kata, conjuring firebending with her renowned expertise. Katara swallowed hard as the short sequence was finished, and she sought to repeat it, carrying water with her: the result wasn't particularly impressive, and yet the water had obeyed her more than when they had been on the ship. Katara grinned brightly at her, and Azula smirked.

"Let's keep going, then," she said. "I have the feeling you'll learn a lot of fire-waterbending for sure."

"Thank you for this, really," Katara laughed. "I know it's not the traditional way, but… who cares, right? If the traditional waterbending styles are meant to be for men, I'd rather find my own way to bend instead."

"Sounds about right," Azula smirked. "Alright, next sequence…"

"Oh, hey, guys!" Aang's voice came from the ceiling of a building: he airbent himself down to the river and smiled peacefully, despite he was, quite apparently, nervous. "Want some help? I can give you a few tips, Katara…"

"No need for that, Avatar," Azula said, raising her voice unnecessarily. "Outdated bending will never defeat the Fire Nation. I'll teach her a far better combat method, so much better you'll be begging her to teach you, rather than the other way around, once I'm through with her…"

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Azula turned, staring at the elderly waterbending master with nonchalance as he stood at a bridge, overlooking their alleged hideout. Katara tensed up, and Aang fell off his air scooter, grimacing at Pakku's obvious loss of temper.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Azula said, simply. "I'll teach her combat waterbending. Why? You'd rather to do it yourself?"

"What a childish claim… your culture is different from ours, Princess Azula!" Pakku declared. "Don't expect to impose your values here!"

"Oh, but I want her to teach me. I asked you, you said no, she offered, and I'm taking her up on that offer," Katara said, simply. "And hey! You have no power to stop her!"

"Unless you have anything else to add, feel free to walk away," Azula said, waving a hand dismissively at Pakku. "Katara has to learn to defend herself as best she can, after all. We may eventually be caught in a path of violence, and she refuses to be dead weight for the rest of us. Who knows? She might even end up saving the Avatar's life…"

"Don't ridicule me! That sort of notion could never…!"

"You know? Maybe this is why they're still winning."

Sokka's voice startled everyone, breaking across the near-scripted encounter with complete naturality: he had sneaked up on Pakku, and he stood beside him, glancing between his friends and the waterbending master, who turned towards him in confused outrage.

"You saw her, didn't you? She's a powerhouse," Sokka said, smiling at Azula. "A girl that strong… she might be the greatest firebender in the world, don't you think? She can even bend blue fire! When had you ever heard of something like that? And you know what? Maybe some of the girls you've refused to teach could have been as strong as Princess Azula was. Then… maybe the Fire Nation could've been stopped before the war escalated this much. Meanwhile, the Fire Nation is perfectly willing to train their girls, and Azula is an example: if she weren't a rebel, she'd be fighting against us, and I can tell you, that would suck big time. She's the strongest girl I've ever met… and I have no doubts she'd kick my ass, and yours, and everyone else's, if given a chance. Maybe… maybe you should give my sister a chance, too. If a girl's power can be the driving force to end this war… why not support her? Why not teach her? Why not break old traditions that don't make any sense?"

Pakku scowled, but confusion crossed his eyes. For a long moment, Sokka stood there, holding the man's gaze… only for Pakku to storm off without another word. Sokka grimaced and sighed, glancing at Katara apologetically after Pakku's footsteps were undoubtedly gone.

"Sorry, I… hoped I could help," he said. "Guess I messed it up."

"You didn't…!" Katara gasped, smiling brightly at Sokka. "You… you really think all that, Sokka? Or are you just trying to impress Azula, now…?"

"W-wha…?! Hey! Of course I think so! All I just said is true!" Sokka exclaimed, blushing as both Katara and Aang laughed.

"Well… even if he won't teach you, you can learn with me and Azula!" Aang said, beaming at Katara as the two of them started on their way back to their given rooms, across the bridge Sokka stood at. "Teaching waterbending with firebending… it sounds fun, right?"

"It was! I don't know how effective it'll be, but it was!" Katara grinned, and she continued to chat animatedly with Aang as they walked back to their quarters.

Sokka stayed behind, waiting for Azula to reach the bridge too. She released a breath as she stepped towards him, stopping at arm's length.

"All you said was true, for sure," she said. "Whether you truly believe it or not, it is. That the driving force in the war right now is a female non-bender ought to speak lengths about how no one should be underestimating women. It's the entire reason my mother got away with everything she did until now…"

"True… and I won't lie to you, okay? I think you've had people lying a lot to you throughout your life. I don't want to be like them," Sokka whispered. "I did think, back before I knew you, that women had some very specific duties… and men had other duties, too. That's how I was raised, and I did say a lot of stupid things to Katara because of it. I mean… it doesn't mean I'm a monster, I hope, but… I know now it was wrong. After all I've trained with you, and all the time I've spent with you, now I'm… I'm able to look back and know I messed up. I shouldn't have said the things I did to Katara, not even if I was just trying to be an annoying older brother…"

"If you truly know that… then I guess it means you should come up with more creative ways to annoy your sister, from this day forward," Azula said. And Sokka grinned brightly once he saw she was smiling, too. "I'll choose to believe you truly have changed… because if you somehow don't think I'm a girl, and that's why you trained with me for all this time…"

"W-what?! Heck, that's what you thought?! Hell, no, absolutely not, Azula…!"

"I mean, I'd hope you wouldn't think that, you did say I was pretty, so…"

They both talked over each other, and only stopped when the other did. A light laugh left both their lips, and Sokka smiled fondly at her.

"I do think you are pretty, you know?" he said. "Though… I guess that's not too relevant to the conversation, is it?"

"Isn't it?" Azula whispered, softly. "You think I'm pretty… and the most powerful firebender in the world, too?"

"Uh… yeah. I think that sums it up," Sokka grinned. Azula laughed again, shaking her head.

"I guess I should thank you, if anything. For what you did just now, and… for everything else," Azula whispered, gazing at him intensely. Sokka's chest tightened: everything else? What did that even mean…?

The question vanished in his head once she stepped closer, leaning forward… and he followed suit, catching her lips with his own clumsily. He didn't really know how to do this, he'd never done it before… and neither had she. But they stood where they did, under the dark skies in the North Pole, sharing a strange, sincere, peaceful moment where no wars weighed on their minds, no conflicts, no pursuits of revenge…

He held her in place, feeling closer to Azula than ever before, and not only because they were kissing: despite their starting point had suggested otherwise, by now he found himself trusting her, wholeheartedly, even if he shouldn't have. For even if the Fire Nation would never reassure him, he thought he understood her loyalty better after today. It wasn't a matter of nations, not for her… it was a matter of standing by those you treasured, come what may. And while she shouldn't have grown fond of them, for a myriad of reasons, she wouldn't have helped Katara so readily if she hadn't felt a powerful kinship with all three of them by now. Perhaps he could see through Azula better now, if just a little…

Surprisingly, Pakku relented on the next day: he took to training Katara personally, freeing Azula to spar with her and Aang on evenings, so the waterbenders could test their skills against firebenders like herself. Mornings, however – if they could be called that, it was always damn dark in this pole, as far as Azula could tell – were much more exciting: she'd spend the whole time with Sokka, training with him just as well… and occasionally doing something other than training, too. They were still young, and they had much left to learn… and as it was, they were quite busy learning how to kiss properly. And with every joyful grin their secretive exchanges elicited in Sokka, Azula's heart soared too. Suddenly it was all too easy to forget she wasn't merely taking a trip with friends, seeing the world, and that she had a rather important task in mind…

She guessed everyone had figured out what was brewing between her and Sokka by the time Iroh decided they'd do best to leave already, once all alliances were settled, and the two waterbenders had learned plenty by Pakku's standards. They didn't walk hand-in-hand, nor did they make any sorts of affectionate gestures in public… but Sokka never stopped smiling goofily at her. It wasn't unpleasant, of course. She could withstand it, no doubt. Though she did fear that, if this kept up, her uncle would congratulate her, and even offer unwanted love advice… ugh, just the idea was embarrassing and sickening.

Yet their new journey was different, now that they were together, in some strange way. She shared her meals with Sokka, visited him in his cabin, and he visited her in hers. They spent occasional afternoons napping together, or talking, or simply cuddling… and all of it had been smooth, perfectly agreeable, filling her chest with a joyful warmth she was sure she had never experienced before. She shouldn't lower her guard so much, she knew that… but Sokka felt safe. He was a good person… he couldn't lie, it wasn't in his system. And he valued people… he treasured them. That was why he could hold her so closely, why his strong heartbeats could soothe her, why his voice sent blissful shivers down her spine…

It was slowly becoming the best period of her life. She didn't need anything but his sweet good night kisses, and his stubbornness as they trained together, and his clumsy flirty remarks that charmed her even if her common sense told her she shouldn't find them all that amusing. She wanted more of this, more of him…

Until they reached Omashu, and reality slammed into her with the force of an avalanche once they glimpsed the red-and-black banner of the Fire Nation dangling at those gates.

"She made another move. She's… she's going to take more and more Earth Kingdom bastions until everything is under her control!" Azula had exclaimed, fists tightened as she glared at the city.

"Calm yourself, Azula," Iroh said, breathing deeply. "We… we may yet find a way in."

"Bumi…" Aang grimaced, lowering his gaze. "We're too late to help…"

"I doubt it. I'm sure we can get in somehow," Sokka said, stubbornly. "The Fire Nation can't be that infallible. And hey! They probably didn't kill your friend Bumi either, Aang, because if he's king, like Iroh says, he's too valuable to kill anyway! So that means we have a chance to save him, alright?"

"You're right… you're right!" Aang said, frowning with determination. "I'll find Bumi. I mean, I hope I can recognize him even now, but I'll do it! And I know just the way to get inside the city!"

The way inside, as it happens, included a trip through sewers that Iroh, naturally, refrained from taking part of. He claimed he'd stay outside, with their soldiers, ensuring to stay hidden while he left the difficult job to the youngsters since they'd, allegedly, blend in easier. No, Azula didn't believe for a second that he was doing it for any other reason besides being appalled by the notion of waddling through literal rivers of shit.

But the more shocking moment of the experience came afterwards: as much as they tried to sneak through the city unnoticed, they failed to be stealthy enough to avoid hostilities by Fire Nation soldiers. And while Aang and Katara managed to keep most at bay with their bending, a sudden flurry of projectiles cast towards Sokka when he was busy parrying a soldier's flames with his club, caused Azula to leap forward and banish them away from him with a blast of blue flames… and a familiar voice suddenly spoke, in the darkness of Omashu's night streets:

"Azula?"

Those projectiles. That voice. Azula froze in place as she raised her gaze to find a silhouette so familiar, and yet so much more grown than she had last seen it. It couldn't be anyone else but her, though…

"Mai," she spoke, swallowing hard. No, she wasn't ready to confront her former friend, she truly wasn't, but if it came to it…

Mai seemed to snarl and rush towards them: that was Azula's first sign that something was different. Aang and Katara geared up to defend themselves, but Azula stretched her arm before them, stopping her new friends from attacking the old, who merely raced through streets, silently asking her to follow. And so Azula did, leading her three companions while ignoring and disregarding the soldiers shouting after them – as well as Mai's mother, who appeared to be aghast that her daughter had rushed off somewhere, straight towards the action.

After much running through maze-like streets, they reached a small, empty hut that stank of stale fish, a smell Azula found most distressing, but it seemed that very stench would serve to ward off the soldiers, as per Mai's logic. She ushered them inside and then they waited: the troops rushed past, searching further down the streets, assuming no one would be hiding within the old market's fishing storage room.

"My parents shut this place down about a week ago," Mai explained. "I knew it'd be empty. I try not to pay attention to their boring business, but…"

"Why would they even shut anything down?" Azula asked, aghast. "Mai, what are you doing here?"

"So… she really is your friend?" Sokka asked, with an awkward smile. "Not that I doubted you, Azula, but maybe a little heads-up would've been nice."

"I didn't think we'd have time to introduce you all when escaping from rabid soldiers, mind you," Azula sighed, shaking her head. Mai raised her eyebrows.

"Huh. You found yourself a boyfriend, then?" she asked. Both Sokka and Azula flinched and blushed, grateful that the darkness of the room wouldn't allow anyone to pick up on their reactions all that easily.

"He's…! W-well…" Azula mumbled. Sokka pouted.

"Not really like we've discussed what terms we want to use, so, uh, I mean…"

"Yes. He is her boyfriend," Katara said, with a blunt smile. "And I'm his sister. And this is…"

"Their friend," Azula cut off, once Aang's introduction came next. "Just as she is Mai, my old friend from school."

"I'm surprised you've made so many new friends, actually. You were never much good at that," Mai said, bluntly. "But it's a good thing, I guess, so… congratulations. Invite me to the wedding."

"We're a little too young to get married, right?" Sokka said, with a small voice. "But, well, if you wait for a few years, surely…"

"Surely?" Azula asked, startled.

"W-well, I mean, once I convince you I'm worth marrying, right?"

To Azula's surprise, Mai snorted. She couldn't remember when was the last time she ever heard her friend laugh – maybe she never had, actually. She turned a confused stare towards Mai, who shook her head sadly.

"Must be fun, huh? Not having everyone choosing your life for you," she said. "Not that I complain too much about my lot, I could be worse off, but… I'm not in Omashu because I want to be, for starters. The armies took the city a few months ago. My father was offered the position of governor, and he accepted it without a second thought. We've been here for a week and I already want to die if it means release from this drab place…"

"My mother…" Azula said. Mai tensed up immediately. "This was all her doing, obviously. Do you know anything else about her plans? Anything…?"

"What are you trying to do?" Mai asked, eyeing Azula with unexpected compassion. "You're not… trying to rebel against her, are you? It hasn't gone well for those who've tried…"

"I'm not stupid enough to be scared just because of that," Azula hissed. "Surely there's still enough dissenters…"

"Less and less every day," Mai said. Azula's heart sank. "She… gets rid of them. One by one, without leaving a trace. The Fire Nation… it's terrorized by its leader, I guess."

"And Zuko is fine with that? He doesn't do anything to…?" Azula said. Mai's eyes dropped to the ground at those questions.

"Zuko… has changed. Not to the point where he isn't himself anymore, but…" Mai said, grimacing. "He's not the boy who'd save me from burning apples anymore. Without you, without your father, he's different. Your mother's doing, I guess…"

"So… what, you don't care about him anymore?" Azula asked. If Zuko had changed so much that even Mai, who had loved him since childhood, couldn't endure it anymore… just what kind of madness was taking place in the Fire Nation?

"I didn't say that. I know his true self, his better sides, are still somewhere deep inside him," Mai said, closing her eyes. "But all this power, all your mother's teachings… they've done him a lot of harm. He's become… arrogant. He gets away with anything he wants to do. He can even hurt servants in fits of rage, if he feels like it, and… and no one cares. The servants vanish after. I… I've been with him, for all these years since you were banished. Technically, this assignment of my father's is meant to cement my eventual marriage to him, but… I can't be as excited about it as I was when I didn't know what I was signing up for."

"Then… it's my mother's influence. That's all there is to it," said Azula, looking at Mai pleadingly. "Join us. Help us release the king, and come with us. You can help us fight my mother, get Zuko back to who he…"

Mai shook her head slowly, and Azula's heart sank.

"If you want the king, I'll give him to you. But I… I can't fight against him, Azula. I may not be happy with who he is anymore, but… I love your brother. I think I always will."

"What…? No! You can't…! Mai, if you love him, that's all the more reason to fight!" Azula exclaimed, exasperated. "You should want to bring him back to who he was when you fell in love with him, you should…!"

"I'm not gullible enough to believe that's possible," Mai said, startling Azula. "It would be grand, if he chose to turn back into who he was before, but… I won't hold my breath. Innocence can't be regained when lost. I fear as much, at least."

Azula gritted her teeth, tightening her fists so much her nails dug into her palms painfully. So that was it? That was her choice? It was outrageous… unbelievable. It made no sense to Azula, and yet the reality of the situation dawned on her further: her mother had damaged the Fire Nation on every possible level she could have. She had corrupted her brother's once-pure soul, and turned him into someone even Mai couldn't love as wholeheartedly as she once had. She had done away with every smidge of resistance until there was nothing left… and now she was taking over every remaining city in the Earth Kingdom, no doubt intending to conquer every city left in the large continent, perhaps to gift the whole world to her puppet son once he reached his seventeenth birthday.

Those thoughts were tormenting her when Mai led them all the way to the statue being erected at the top of Omashu's tallest pyramid: Azula scowled upon recognizing it was made in her mother's image. How she wished to be an earthbender and tear the damn thing to pieces…

But where the king, suspended in a strange coffin, should have rejoiced over the opportunity to leave the city without a hassle, he instead refused to do so, surprising the previously thrilled Aang, who stared at him in chagrin at those words. The king made up some strange excuses about neutral jing, doing nothing, as an option in fighting, and claimed his moment to reclaim his city would arrive in due time. In the end, their venture into the second largest city of the continent was but a waste of time, and a rather depressing one at that. Mai led them to the sewers again, and Azula glanced at her as she walked away, knowing her friend meant her no harm with her decision… but knowing, too, that there was no way she'd change her mind. Zuko was Mai's priority… no matter what kind of man he might have become.

"We should simply teach him firebending! What's the point of sticking to the damn cycle of elements anyway? The idea is for the Avatar to learn it all! He's had two perfectly capable firebenders to teach him for months and we haven't taught him a single thing because you won't allow it!"

"The cycle is what it is for good reason, Azula. An airbending Avatar needs to learn how to ground himself before he can firebend, lest he will lose control of his fire in virtue of how volatile the element and his bending in general will be. The same is true for everything else! A firebending Avatar learns waterbending to temper his flames before the air stokes them out of control…!"

"And it's always the fire that's the problem. Funny philosophies you have, Uncle."

"My philosophies are the product of study and tradition. This is done this way for good reason, Azula: the Avatar is a delicate entity, and any mistakes in his upbringing could result in a catastrophe!"

"Then what the hell are we going to do, huh? Please, enlighten me!" Azula exclaimed, rising to her feet as she glared at her Uncle. Sokka grimaced, sitting beside her by the fire as they'd been. "Are we going to stay put because we can't convince one damn earthbender out of thousands to teach the Avatar? Do we let my mother get away with everything she's done so far? I thought we had an agreement…!"

"And we still do," Iroh said, sternly. "But we both agreed to be lenient with each other, flexible, until everything was resolved. And you aren't being that right now…"

"Neither are you, Mr. Tradition and Study," Azula scowled, shaking her head and storming off without another word.

Aang and Katara shrank awkwardly by the fire as Iroh sighed. Sokka, of course, grimaced and stood up.

"I'll go after her," he said. "Though… I do think I agree with her. Not just about the bending, but… what are we going to do if we can't release the king? You were betting on these alliances to be strong enough to defeat the Fire Lady… but is anything that powerful?"

"I… don't know," Iroh admitted, quietly.

Sokka sighed and walked away, following the trail Azula had left through. She sat by the edge of the mountain they were camping at, glaring at Omashu in the distance, when he took his seat beside her again.

"Want to make out?" Azula blurted out, suddenly. Sokka nearly fell off the mountain altogether at the sudden question. "Can't say I'm in the mood… but it might help me feel better."

"Well… maybe after we talk?" Sokka said, with an awkward smile. Azula sighed and buried her face in her knees. Sokka reached out, caressing her head. "Azula…"

"I get it now. I… I understand how you must feel about me," she said. Sokka froze, unsure of what she would mean by that. Was she trying to end things between them, somehow…? Oh, he sure hoped she wasn't… "I've kept rambling on and on about my revenge quest… but I've never said I'm against anything the Fire Nation did in the war, have I?"

"Uh… yeah. I guess you haven't," Sokka admitted.

"It's because I wasn't," Azula said. Sokka frowned, his fingers slipping down from the top of her head to the nape of her neck. "I saw nothing wrong… with everything that we'd done. Because I wasn't raised to see it, so I didn't care to. Even when we met… I just wanted to end the war at all costs because I thought it'd be the worst blow against my mother. But now… if I'm feeling so lost, so angry over Omashu being hers, the people there must feel a thousand times worse. As must have everyone else, all across the Earth Kingdom, and the old Air Nomad bastions… though those aren't even alive to resent the Fire Lords for it. And yet it took this much for me to see it."

"At least you see it now," Sokka said, biting his lip.

"But I also see why you couldn't trust me. It's why I never encouraged you to trust me, too," Azula mumbled. "I'm like Mai, aren't I? It doesn't matter if I know the Fire Nation is wrong, or breaking balance, I… I just want to fight for it. I want to do what's right by it. Even… if it doesn't deserve that."

"Heh… I don't know if the whole nation deserves your hard work or not," Sokka said, lowering his hand to clasp hers. "But you're not like her. You're taking action, right? You want to fight back. She's given up, but you never did."

"I'm not fighting the right battle, though, am I?" Azula said, glancing at him. "It doesn't end just with dethroning her. Not if she's corrupting Zuko as Mai says she did. Whatever my uncle may say or think about him, my brother… he has an awful temper. He's hot-headed and impulsive, and there's no way mother's death or forceful removal would ever sit well with him. He needs to understand what's wrong with the Fire Nation, just as I have, but… he won't. He just… won't."

"Then maybe the Fire Nation needs another Fire Lord," Sokka said, gazing at her meaningfully. Azula frowned before shooting him a wary glance. "Or… is it Fire Lady in this case too? I'm sorry, I don't really know…"

"I… take the throne? Instead of Zuko?" Azula asked. Sokka shrugged.

"If you want to, make it a temporary thing," he said. "Until he's seen enough of the world, if you can trust him to do what's right by his people if he learns better. Or you can just depose him for good, and take the throne yourself to guide the Fire Nation to a better future… I mean, you could, right? You've been friends with us… you've helped us, protected us, given us a chance to fight back, even if for your own reasons. I… I know I shouldn't trust you, right? But… I think I do now. Even if I didn't mean to… I do."

"So, if I let you down, I'll hurt you," Azula concluded, with a grimace. "That's fun…"

"I'm sorry if it's a lot of pressure," Sokka smiled sadly. "But… come on, I wouldn't make out with someone I can't trust."

"Why not? Could be fun," Azula huffed.

"Wait, it 'could' be? Here I thought you'd say you're doing that with me," Sokka smirked.

To his relief, Azula smiled before leaning in to kiss him softly. Sokka returned the gesture, finishing off by pressing another kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Guess I've ended up trusting you too. Curses, we're a mess," Azula sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face to his shoulder. "I just… feel at ease with you. I trust that you won't betray me… I trust that I understand you, no matter how different we are. And yet I… I can't trust the Fire Nation. I can't trust anyone there, not my friends, not my family, I… I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. And I can't say any of this to anyone but you… which is already a miracle. Because I… couldn't tell anyone, before I met you. I spent three years letting my thoughts fester…"

"And now you can share them with me" Sokka said, smiling warmly at her "Look… I don't know if I'll help at all by saying this, but before we met, I hated the Fire Nation. Now, because of you… I can't hate it, not really. What I'm thinking is… you're a product of that mess of a culture, just as everyone else you know is. But you're also proof that not everything in the Fire Nation is doomed, Azula. You're proof great things can come from it… and you're proof they can change their ways, too. If you've learned from all this… if you can't help but empathize with those who've lost their homes, their hope, their very nation… then it means you're the one better suited for breaking the Fire Nation's cycle, the best hope this world has. I know the path ahead wouldn't be easy, but… I'll be here. Even if your mom goes down, and your brother leaves you be, and you get to rule the Fire Nation and bring it back into proper harmony, I'll be right there with you, every step of the way."

"You… you took the marriage thing that seriously, huh?" Azula sakd, with a weak grin. Sokka chuckled and shrugged.

"I like you more and more every day, as it is," he whispered. "I… I guess maybe at this point I even…"

"You even…?" Azula said, her heart racing as she waited for him to finish his sentence. He smiled and bit his lip, almost shyly.

"I even might love you. But, you know, I've never felt like this with a girl, so… it's all new for me and I don't know if it's love yet," he laughed. "I… kind of want it to be, though."

"You… want to love me?" Azula asked. Sokka grinned and nodded. "That's… a strange concept. But… it's somewhat cute, I guess."

"Glad you think so," Sokka chuckled.

Azula smiled as she leaned in to kiss him again. She hadn't said the words back, but this was the second-best follow-up, as far as he could tell. She wasn't quite so forthright with feelings, he had noticed… she had been far more honest tonight than in most their long conversations before he left for his cabin at night on the ship. He felt a little closer to her now, and that was a blissful sensation indeed. She had been troubled before, but now… she seemed hopeful. She had heard him out… and she understood him. Maybe she didn't agree with everything… maybe she didn't want to take the throne for herself in the end. But she smiled anyways after their kiss broke off, and his heart soared because of it.

Iroh seemed relieved when Azula returned in better spirits… and he didn't ignore the bold handholding between the pair of teenagers. He held back a smile, though he remained silent until Azula's voice reached him.

"Our next goal should be gathering support throughout the Earth Kingdom," Azula declared, firmly, as though she hadn't been upset mere moments ago. "I propose we go to the largest cities, especially if you have any contacts in them. We'll find a proper earthbending master for Aang eventually, I'd assume."

"That… yes, sounds reasonable," Iroh said, nodding. "Then… we'll leave Omashu be?"

"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" Azula sighed. "And we still have a war and a Fire Lady to stop. At all costs. If King Bumi is sure he can fix this himself somehow, it's his business, but we can move forward regardless. There's no reason to think the war effort should be over only because Omashu has fallen."

Her renewed determination, after her previous bout of frustration, had soothed Iroh deeply. He smiled again as they made arrangements to continue their journey, and while they wouldn't have it as easy to travel as before, for they'd need to leave their soldiers on the ship if they didn't want to garner unwanted attention in Earth Kingdom settlements, their reinvigorated direction aided the group's mood greatly.

The city of Gaoling was their next goal, and while Iroh took his time to arrange matters to gain the local nobles' favor, the younger members of the group busied themselves with finding an earthbending master for Aang. After a fruitless attempt to have him train in Master Yu's school, they found out about an underground earthbending battling ring… and while Azula enjoyed watching her boyfriend – the word still felt foreign, but she was growing used to it gradually – screaming excitedly to his heart's content over each combat, she enjoyed nothing quite as much as his horror when the champion of these duels stepped into the fray at last, and defeated Sokka's favorite fighter with nothing but a few well-calculated blows.

Aang had been convinced immediately that the small girl was his fated master, but his intervention in the fights, and attempt to challenge her only to request her help, hadn't gone so well. In the end, they wound up returning to the earthbending school in hopes to track down any information about the Blind Bandit, but their best attempts amounted to nothing. In the end, they merely followed Iroh into yet another one of his meetings with local nobles… and curiously, a small girl in the Beifong family looked enough like the Blind Bandit – and even acted like her, whenever her parents weren't watching, by lashing out at Aang when he dared tell her the dress suited her too – that it seemed they had happened to discover her identity all the same: the blind daughter of the richest family in Gaoling, Toph Beifong.

What followed that discovery was a spree of wild madness: Aang and Toph were taken prisoners by Sokka's admired earthbending fighter, and as much as Azula, Katara, Sokka and Iroh rushed to their rescue, Toph ended up defeating all the enemies herself. Even then, her parents seemed unwilling to allow her to leave with them… and it seemed she truly did wish to, despite she had rejected the notion of teaching Aang any earthbending so far, even after he told her he was the Avatar.

Yet, just as they were ready to give up…

"I… think I shall have a chat with the Beifongs, before we go," Iroh told Azula, with a bright grin. Azula blinked blankly.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked. "I thought you'd already said they weren't going to be much help in the war effort…"

"That's still true. But I may be able to resolve another problem, if I play my tiles right," Iroh grinned, patting her shoulder before reentering the Beifong mansion.

"What do you think he'll do?" Sokka asked, clasping Azula's hand in his own. Azula grimaced.

"Knowing him? Charm the Beifongs into letting Toph come with us," she said. Sokka scoffed, and Aang groaned.

"It'll never work…" Aang pouted. "They won't let her."

"It's not very likely," Sokka agreed. Katara sighed in defeat as well.

"We'll have to find someone else to…"

"Hey, guys! I'm coming with you!"

Toph voice broke through the conversation: they all turned around in utter disbelief to find the earthbender's parents were crying, hugging Iroh, talking about entrusting their daughter's safety to him. Toph was still wearing her fancy regal clothes, but she had put together a quick bag anyway, and she rushed towards them and Appa with the brightest grin on her face.

"Told you," Azula smiled dryly, as Sokka laughed and shook his head.

"He'd charm a starving man out of his last breadcrumbs, looks lik,e" Sokka said. "That's one less problem, right? We have our earthbender! And now…"

"Now… Ba Sing Se," Azula said, glancing at him with determination: that next goal would be pivotal, crucial, in ending the war to their favor.

They traveled by bison at first, intending to catch up with their ship again halfway through the ocean. Whenever they stopped for a short break, Aang and Toph would work on their earthbending training, or Aang and Katara would work on their waterbending instead. In the meantime, Iroh continued to craft his plans for the next stages of their rebellion… and Azula and Sokka either helped him or hid away for a while for further privacy, returning to the group half an hour later, holding hands and smiling rather carelessly. And while Azula had no intentions of chatting with her uncle about her growing relationship with the Water Tribesman, she certainly had noticed he seemed more likely to smile at her these days, watching over her as, perhaps, a doting father might… not that she thought her own father would ever have approved of this relationship, though. It was, perhaps, an advantage that it was Iroh with her right now, while she explored this rather new walk of life with Sokka.

Toph wasn't particularly thrilled to be stuck on a metal ship once they reached their favored means of transportation, and often demanded she and Aang took off on Appa so they could get some training done in the outskirts of the eastern Earth Kingdom. The pair had only returned from one such journey when one of the soldiers informed Iroh that Ba Sing Se's wall was within view.

"Very well… very well," Iroh nibbled on the tip of his thumb, as his niece stood beside him, arms crossed.

"How will we get in?" she asked. "I doubt we'll find a sewer to sneak through this time… and I also doubt I'll bump into any of my friends here to give us a hand. Do you have any contacts in the city?"

"Regrettably… none I've been able to reach," said Iroh. "But it makes no matter! We shall find a way through, Azula. I have a few ideas on how to do it: we can go incognito! Pretend to be travelers, innocent ones, completely harmless…"

"And how will innocent travelers ever earn an audience with the Earth King?" Sokka asked, blinking blankly: as ever, he stood beside Azula, a hand on her waist.

"Oh, you needn't worry, young man!" Iroh declared, proudly, rubbing his hands together. "I'll see to it myself. You'll be surprised just how far a careful set of words can bring you, if you speak them to the right person!"

"Huh…?" said Sokka, though he smiled at Azula. "Guess he might pull off the same thing he did in Gaoling, right?"

"Maybe. Is that what you intend?" Azula asked Iroh. He chuckled and shrugged.

"Just wait patiently, Princess Azula," he said, determined and enthusiastic. "I shall not lead any of you astray!"

"Well… that sure didn't go as planned, eh?" Iroh smiled awkwardly, at the four sets of glaring eyes that bore into him… and the scowling, sightless eyes that weren't aimed in his direction, but might as well have been.

Being stuck in a narrow space with Sokka's arms around her body wouldn't have displeased Azula under any other circumstances… but a prison cell could easily kill any romantic mood she might have felt, and she certainly had felt none from the moment they had been captured and dragged into Ba Sing Se as prisoners rather than honored guests, regardless of Iroh's many promises.

Their attempt to enter the city through the passports Iroh had procured for them – with the help of some mysterious associate he had met while they traveled with Appa near the Misty Palms Oasis – had been an absolute failure. While he had certainly charmed the woman at the counter, he had failed catastrophically at talking them out of a Dai Li inspection right afterwards. Even though all of them were clad in Earth Kingdom clothes, and Aang's every arrow was perfectly covered with a large hat and a tall collar, something about them had pissed off the earthbenders so much that they found themselves imprisoned in the Earth King's underground prisons now, and with very few hopes of escape, as far as they could tell.

"Ugh, just be quiet. I can try to get us out of here if I just… make a good key," Toph grumbled, using some of the earth of the ground to craft a useful method to either open or outright break the lock.

"We shouldn't even be here in the first place," Azula hissed, regardless of Sokka's soothing caresses to her hair. "What did you say to those bastards? It felt like they just decided to lock us up because they were annoyed by your rambling."

"Maybe. I am good at charming with words… not so good without them," Iroh admitted, stroking his beard.

"But it is excessive, isn't it?" Sokka reasoned. "I mean… unless they figured out who we are? Or at least, who you guys are? I'd think no one knows about Aang yet, right? Even in Omashu he didn't do anything too damning, did he?"

"No, and I deliberately held off from telling Mai who he was," Azula said. "While she's not a bad person, as far as I know, any information she gained on us could be used to destroy us. So… no, I didn't tell her. And in that darkness, I'm not sure if anyone could've noticed it if he was airbending."

"Then maybe they know who you and Iroh are," Katara mused, biting her lip. "Do you think that's possible?"

"Well… yes," Azula conceded.

"We're not very popular at the moment," Iroh admitted, closing his eyes.

"But would the Earth Kingdom know that?" Katara asked.

"They certainly know me as the man who tried to overtake their city, so… I can't say it's too surprising if they want me dead," Iroh admitted. "They may have simply seized us all just because they recognized me, despite the passports."

"And I guess maybe they could've captured Iroh to use him as a hostage to negotiate with the Fire Nation?" Sokka asked. "Just a thought…"

"Might just be the truth, actually," Azula mumbled, frowning.

That gloomy, discouraging possibility was followed up by a surprising sound: metal, screeching in a rather unexpected, unnatural manner.

"Toph?" Sokka called the youngest member of the group. She stood by the door and turned with a rather devious smirk.

"I, uh… think I discovered something," she said.

"Did you… y-you just broke through the metal door?!" Aang gasped, upon glimpsing that Toph's hand was past the door, through a small hole she had dug into it somehow. She couldn't have looked prouder.

"Guess… I'm a metalbender," she announced, grinning.

They were racing down the Palace basement's corridors moments afterwards, speeding up as fast as they could, hoping to find a hiding place, anywhere safe where they might be able to cheat the Dai Li, and either get out of the city or contact the king directly, and inform him of their situation. Aang spotted a staircase that led to the upper floors, and they all rushed towards it in a hurry…

"Wait. I sense people!" Toph exclaimed, grimacing before pulling out a chunk of the wall to use as a weapon against whoever stood outside the prison block's doors.

The others merely stepped out of the way while the earthbender heaved the massive projectile and tossed it, busting the door off its hinges, startling the soldiers in red and in green right outside the…

Red?

Azula's eyes widened when she identified those helmets, those dark uniforms, highlighted in crimson. But most of all, everyone gasped when an onslaught of fire scorched Toph's projectile and blasted it out of the way…

Azula's heart sank. It sank deeper and deeper as soon as she saw those crimson robes fully: Imperial Firebenders. That could only mean…

"Oh, dear. I suppose you've made rather uncivilized friends who cannot seem to greet others in an acceptable manner, haven't you? I expected something classier from you, Azula."

Her heart couldn't seem to settle between racing or stopping when her golden eyes found the honeyed-poison ones of the woman who had just spoken her name with derision. The woman who stood behind the Imperial Firebenders who had just stepped out of the way… revealing her, as well as a young man who stood beside her, proud and strong in his gold-lined armor, his chin held high despite his eyes betrayed a joviality and innocence that didn't befit a Crown Prince.

A joviality and innocence completely absent in the eyes of the woman he followed most obediently.

Azula felt Sokka tensing up beside her. She could tell Aang was nervous, that even Toph was doubting, that Katara was frantically looking for a way out, despite they were surrounded by hostile soldiers of two nations that should have only been enemies… that Iroh was as furious as she was, and for once, failing to conceal it properly.

This was why they had been imprisoned. This was why their plans were failing: she had made her move. And whatever her plans were now, she intended to take Ba Sing Se for herself. Perhaps she already had.

"Well?" said the elegant woman, raising her eyebrows skeptically. "Did they infect you with that uncivilized behavior, by any chance? Glaring at me in such a manner is most unbefitting, Azula…"

"How… how dare you…?" Azula hissed, her furious eyes gleaming. "Why are you…?! How are you even here?!"

The woman smiled, and Azula's tightened fists seemed poised to shatter with all her charged fury. Once she had pretended to be gentle, kind, a perfect mother with no ill intentions… she had long put aside such pretenses, and now stood before her with no masks, whatsoever.

"Answer me…" Azula snarled, glaring so fiercely it seemed she intended to set the woman on fire through willpower alone: "What are you doing here, Mother?!"

The soldiers had dragged most the group back to the prison cells. They had been locked in another one, this time with guards poised watching them, ensuring that even if they managed another miraculous escape that defied sense and reality, they wouldn't be able to make it very far without alerting the whole Palace that they were running. It seemed, to Azula's utter chagrin, that their first escape attempt had been a failure by mere chance: had Toph released them merely ten minutes earlier, they might have been able to get away.

"It was rather amusing, I must say. I had intended to visit you and your uncle, of course," Ursa was reciting, as she paced inside a Palace sitting room, a cup of steaming tea in her hand. She had poured another one, but Azula, the only other occupant in the room, by Ursa's express request, refused to touch it, no matter how parched she was. "But you two merely rushed me and my procession just when we were handling the security details regarding how to head down into that dark prison block as safely as possible! Amusing, truly…"

"You still haven't answered me," the exiled Princess said, her head hung, her arms chained behind her back, shackled just as her feet were, held down on the heavy table. She had managed to sit down… but that was as far as her movements would get her, apparently. "Why… why are you here? How? The Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation have been at war for…"

"For a hundred years, even longer if you're to take into account how poorly the Earth Kingdom responded to Fire Lord Sozin's first colonies, yes," Ursa said, carelessly, taking her seat at the other side of the table. She was the picture of regal luxury, clad in beautiful robes, sporting as many jewels and royal artifacts as she dared wear… whereas Azula was in an incognito outfit, filthy from her time in jail, her hair in disarray. And where Azula sat on the floor, without even a cushion, her mother relaxed in a smooth lounge, reclining sideways into perfect comfort. "Isn't it a rather drab business, the war? I've had to continue it, of course, the nation would've stood for nothing else, but… oh, there just had to be more effective ways to resolve all this, don't you believe?"

"Effective?" Azula repeated, breathing heavily. "Like what? Are you… y-you're trying to enter an alliance with the Earth King?"

"Trying? Do you really think I'd be here if I hadn't succeeded?" Ursa smirked. Azula's aghast expression only amused her mother further. "It wasn't quite so difficult, mind you: just a little persuasion goes a long way with unseasoned kings who don't know any better. King Kuei isn't even aware there's a war… his fool of an advisor never told him as much. Once I arrived for a diplomatic visit, how could they have refused me?"

"He didn't tell him…? The Earth King didn't know there was a war?" Azula asked. "That's absurd! How could they shelter him to a point where…?"

"Isn't it utterly embarrassing, really?" Ursa said, smiling and shaking her head. "I almost felt sorry for the poor thing. He's infatuated with me too, you see… perfectly useful for my purposes, of course. If I give him enough reason to believe he'll ever be able to craft a permanent alliance between our nations, he'll wind up signing his whole continent to me without his awareness…"

"And that's when you'll strike," Azula hissed, resisting the urge to spit at her mother right then and there. "Guess that's what you stoop to nowadays, huh? Seducing men to get your way?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. It's hardly my fault men are quite so foolish and gullible," Ursa said, raising her eyebrows dismissively as she took to checking her makeup. Azula snarled.

"That's surely what you thought of my father too, isn't it? Foolish and gullible… and then you killed him. You killed him, just as you killed my grandfather, all for Zuko's sake…!"

"Honestly, child," Ursa said, rolling her eyes before glancing at her skeptically. "Do you truly believe your incompetent father could've run this nation and finished this war with anything short of Sozin's Comet's second coming? Even then, he surely would have failed. He filled his mind with absolute delusions about how that throne belonged to him… as though he'd ever be capable of ruling without sending the whole nation into chaos and disaster. Am I questioned over my rise into power? No doubt: is the Fire Nation thriving, more than it ever did before? Of course it is. And neither your father nor your thrice-accursed grandfather could've achieved that. The Fire Nation's better than it ever was, and it's all because of me."

"I have a hard time believing that," Azula hissed. Ursa let out a soft chuckle and she shook her head.

"No doubt. You were your father's beloved golden daughter, weren't you?" Ursa said. "I suppose you would feel rather differently if he had been Fire Lord for longer than a week. And what a tragedy that was…"

"Tragedy? Tragedy?!" Azula snarled. "You and I both know you were behind that! You were! Quit playing pretense and admit it, if not to the world, to me! You've lied to my face for years, and then got rid of me because you knew I'd discover the truth! Now you've trapped me because you know I'm a threat! If you'll just lock me away somewhere, the least you can do for your daughter is admit your blasted crimes!"

"Lock you away? Oh, dear, again with the histrionics…" Ursa sighed, standing up and making her way to a nearby armoire. Azula glared at her mother fierce, wrestling with her chains, wishing she could move beyond being chained to the damn table. "What makes you think I'd want to keep you imprisoned, Azula, really?"

Azula huffed, breathing heavily as the reality and weight of those words sank inside her very soul. No, her mother didn't traditionally take prisoners. What she did was…

Her eyes widened just as Ursa turned around, a small vial of translucent liquid in her hands.

"Calm down, Sokka… you won't help her just by fretting in here," Katara told her brother, but Sokka refused to listen to reason.

"We have to get out. We have to. Toph, please…"

"There's a lot of soldiers out there," Toph said, biting her lip. "If we wait for a change of shift…"

"That could be too late!" Sokka exclaimed. "Azula is alone with her murderous mother! There's no way she'll be fine there, damn it! We have to…!"

"Shh," Toph said, suddenly. "Someone's coming."

Sokka fell silent begrudgingly, his heart racing and aching on equal amounts. No, no, no, he couldn't lose Azula, he simply couldn't lose her… he felt as though he were falling off Appa, with an unbearable vertigo, as though the whole world would shatter if he couldn't reach her on time…

The footsteps Toph had heard were audible eventually, and they stopped at their cell. The voice that accompanied them was only familiar for one member of their group, once they heard it:

"Leave me. I'll speak to my Uncle alone."

Wait… soldiers, dismissed? Sokka's eyes gleamed. It was their chance…!

Iroh shot him a warning glare, and Sokka's soaring heart sank all over again. Iroh turned towards the door, waiting for the young man outside to stop breathing heavily and to speak, outright.

"I… I'm sorry you're imprisoned, Uncle," said none other than Azula's brother, of course: Zuko. "I didn't want you to be, but Mother… she thinks you're dangerous. I've told her you're not, that you'd never hurt me, but she's sure you can't be trusted. I'm sorry she sent you away with Azula, you two never got along… it must have sucked. But hey, I'll try to convince Mother to let you stay with us! I'll be Fire Lord this year, so if you're patient I can revoke your exile sooner than you thought! You'll be able to come back home, Uncle… and I know things between you and Mother are messy, but I'll help you fix it. I will. I just… I miss you."

Sokka's harsh glare warned Iroh not to do anything foolish either. Iroh held his gaze for a moment, nodding weakly before speaking through the door.

"I missed you too, my nephew," he said, smiling heartily, offering his words yet another coating of warmth and kindness. "It wasn't easy, no… but while I didn't expect to reunite with you while I'm imprisoned, I sure rejoiced in it all the same. You've grown into a very handsome young man! Surely all the ladies in the city want to marry you…"

"Oh, haha, well, yeah…" Zuko laughed outside. Iroh grinned.

"I trust you, my nephew. I know your heart is in the right place. I'll wait until you can help me, but… is it okay if I make one request right now?"

"Sure! Anything you want, Uncle!"

"I would very much like to see your face properly… and give you a big hug."

Sokka blinked blankly. Katara and Aang stared at Iroh in confused chagrin while Toph's jaw dropped. No way. That was so obvious, it was even worse than ANYTHING he'd said to the Dai Li earlier…

"Oh… I'd need the keys for that. Give me a second! Guards!"

Iroh smirked, and Toph had to cover her mouth to avoid chortling. Sokka bit his lip, his heart racing at haste yet again…

The lock slid open. The door swung outwards. The regal Fire Prince, soon to be Fire Lord, stood right outside, smiling warmly at his uncle…

Iroh sighed and spread his arms, and Zuko knelt before hugging him. Iroh rocked him gently in his arms, and Zuko chuckled, no doubt elated that his perfect life would only improve from now on…

And then his whole body seemed to go numb right after Iroh's hand pinched him right at the nape of his neck.

"W-wha…?" he said, his voice trembling: even speaking seemed near impossible to him now. What on earth…?

"I'm sorry, Zuko. But I won't abandon your sister."

Sokka didn't wait for another moment before rushing the guards right outside: Toph helped him by slamming some into a wall while he attacked two with powerful bare fists, and Aang joined in by using his own earthbending to fight back. Katara smiled wildly as she leapt over Iroh and Zuko: the old general was pulling his nephew inside the prison cell, and he laid him there just after all the nearby guards were defeated: the betrayal in Zuko's eyes was heartbreaking.

"I'm sorry, truly," Iroh said, nodding in his direction before closing the door, locking it firmly.

"For a second there I thought…" Sokka told Iroh, breathing heavily. Iroh scoffed.

"You think I'd ever join my sister-in-law? After everything she's done?" Iroh said. "No matter how honeyed Zuko's words may be… I won't abandon Azula. You're not the only one who's loyal to her, you hear me?"

Sokka smiled and nodded, just as Katara returned to him, strapping her waterbending pouches to her body while handing Sokka his weapons.

"We need to find Azula," Sokka said, firmly. "Toph! Help us track her down!"

"Aye-aye, captain!"

They didn't waste time rushing to the stairs: Toph and Aang tore open the ceiling and they raised their group to the next floor with earthbending. There was no point in stealth anymore, not when they knew this was an enemy best fought through unpredictability… Sokka breathed deeply, leaping off the earthbending pillar once they reached solid ground – albeit now torn with a huge hole –, while Toph and Aang slammed their bare feet into the ground, searching the Palace's upper floors with seismic sense until they located Azula…

"You'll get your answer, I said… once you drink this. Simple, right?" Ursa smirked, stepping towards her daughter: Azula pulled away violently, keeping her lips tightly shut as her mother knelt beside her. "And here I thought you wanted to know the truth. Don't you want to anymore, Azula? That's just so confusing and contradictory…"

Azula would've snarled, would've protested, if she had thought her mother wouldn't empty the vial's contents in her mouth as soon as she dared separate her lips. Curse everything… curse it all. That was how she'd done it, then. Poison… a suitable weapon for one who didn't dirty her hands willingly. She was ever the picture of perfection… and now she intended to destroy her, just as she had destroyed her father. How many people had she killed this way? How many had suspected her, known she was up to no good, and she had simply offed them right then and there? Azula couldn't even venture a guess. Her whole body screamed rejection, and she tugged at her chains in a hopeless attempt to release herself from the shackles…

But Ursa only smirked where she knelt, cockily raising her eyebrows defiantly, waiting for Azula to make a mistake. Hoping to goad her into making them, even.

"It's supposed to be tasteless. You surely won't feel a thing," she said. "Your father was quite calm when he drank it mixed with a cup of rice wine that night, if I recall right. Oh, no… it was lychee wine, wasn't it?"

Azula gasped: Ursa made her move: Azula screamed as her mother held her jaw forcefully, preventing Azula from slamming her mouth shut as she had intended to… and pouring the contents of the vial right into her mouth.

"That being said… I could've mixed it with your tea, if you preferred that. Would it have been better, perhaps? You might have enjoyed it better, right, Azula?" Ursa smirked: now she held the exiled Princess's jaw closed, doing her very best to prevent her from spitting out the liquid.

Azula's face was contorted with outrage, disgust and fear. She was going to die, she was actually going to die… and her mother had admitted the truth. She had admitted this was how she'd killed so many people, so many times…

"How I've longed for this moment…" Ursa said, holding her daughter down still, in a more violent display of strength than any Azula had seen from her until that day. "How I've wanted to get rid of your meddling, you spoiled brat. You won't take your brother's throne for yourself the way your damn father did with your uncle. Oh, yes, your uncle deserved it, but Zuko… he's the one true Fire Lord. And you… you were never meant to be born. You were an unwanted accident, one I'll put an end to, right now…!"

The floor underneath the table collapsed suddenly, loudly: Ursa gasped, her control on the situation shattering for long enough to release Azula… and for Azula to spit the entire content of the vial in her mother's face, to Ursa's horror.

She'd still need to rinse off, she had to do it as soon as possible, that damn thing had to be potent if Ursa believed such a small amount would suffice for murder… one quick glance nearly made her cry of joy rather than despair: tears did burn in her eyes after Ursa had damn near killed her, but they gained a new meaning now as Sokka jumped out of the hole in the ground towards her, concern clear in his face.

"Azula! Azula, I'm here, we're here…!"

"What have you done to her?!" Iroh bellowed, rushing towards Ursa and clasping her by the neck of her long dress. "Answer me!"

"P-poison…" Azula coughed, trying to spit out the remnants of the thing: Katara knelt before her, offering her some of her bending water to rinse her mouth fully, perhaps too invasively, but Azula didn't care. Not if it meant she'd survive… and she truly expected she would be, with Katara's help, while Sokka held her closely.

"To think I complained about my family being boring," Toph growled, holding a boulder at the ready to attack the Fire Lady.

"How could you do this to your own daughter?!" Aang asked, aghast. "You… you're not worthy of leading the Fire Nation! What you've done here today will be known…!"

"Ha! What's a child like you going to do anyways? I have soldiers, an army…!" Ursa shouted.

"And I'm the Avatar!" Aang shouted: yet it wasn't his voice alone: a sudden flash of light startled all of them, for his eyes had gained an unexpected white gleam, as well as the arrows in his body. Ursa's jaw dropped, and she trembled in Iroh's grip, even once the brightness faded, and the young boy no longer channeled a strange energy through his body. "I won't allow you to continue destroying this world's balance, or your own family, as you have! This war is over, and you're…!"

He fell silent when Azula rose to her feet, near stumbling as her blood rushed vertiginously through her veins. Iroh gazed at her with concern, as did Sokka, who held her gently…

"Toph. Can you… get rid of these chains?"

Toph did as she was told immediately, setting down her boulder to do so. It was a strange suspense that spread across the room, as Azula waited until each shackle was off… but she held the chains all the same. And she glared at her mother with mad fury across her bloodshot eyes.

"You killed my father," Azula said, firmly. "You poisoned his drink. You poisoned my grandfather just the same. You've killed countless in this manner, and admitted to planning on taking advantage of the Earth King for your schemes…"

"You… have no evidence…!" Ursa said, though her poised elegance was gone now: it was her turn to fear, for all tides had been turned against her: where were her soldiers? The Dai Li she had stolen out of Long Feng's control, after ensuring one of the kitchen cooks poisoned his meal? No one was coming to the rescue, but someone had to, someone would… "W-where's Zuko? What have you done to my son?!"

"He's safe and sound. Trust me, he'll never get the same treatment you will," Iroh said, scowling at Ursa.

"Yes. Zuko will live," Azula said, ominously. "She won't."

Her words floored everyone within the room, even the young man who held Azula closely. He gasped, tugging her towards him, but Azula clasped the chains with her now free hands, glaring at Ursa furiously.

"Azula, no!" Sokka exclaimed. "You can't just…!"

"She damn near killed me! She meant to, and she would've killed each of us, one by one, until no one stood against her!" Azula shouted back, trembling violently as she leveled her glare at Ursa. "I won't… I won't let you hurt anyone I love ever again… never again. I will kill you. I will kill you!"

"Azula, stop!" Sokka said, pulling her into an embrace she tried to shake off. Azula snarled, feeling the tears running down her face as she built her resolve: one murder, one more death, and the world would be set right. That was all it took, that was all… "You can break the damn cycle. We talked about this! You can put an end to the misery, to the hatred in the Fire Nation… but not if you continue what your mother already started. Not if you kill her now, just as she killed your father! Your people won't think you're any better than her! They'll assume you don't belong on a throne any more than she does…"

"I don't need a damn throne!" Azula shouted. "I just need…! I just need…!"

"You don't need to kill her. You think you do… but you're a better person than she could ever be," Sokka said, burying his face in her neck.

"Violence and death… that's what the Hundred Year War has been about," Aang said, gazing at Azula sadly. "Maybe… maybe it's not what you want to hear now. But… I think Sokka is right."

"I won't tell you she deserves better than death," Sokka said, gritting his teeth. "What she's done… what she nearly did to you, I want to kill her for that, too! But Azula… if she's dead, the world…"

"The cycle… won't ever break…" Azula whispered, gritting her teeth. "If I kill her…"

"You… you shouldn't kill me, no!" Ursa said, clinging to the sudden possibility of survival that had reared its head when she expected otherwise. "Azula, truly, I only did everything for Zuko! Your grandfather would've killed him, and your father would've done worse…!"

"Shut the hell up!" Azula shouted, glaring at her again. Ursa gritted her teeth, as Iroh scowled at her too.

"No past crimes by your victims will justify what you've done," Iroh said. "You killed my father… and my brother. You nearly killed my niece, too. You've corrupted my nephew's mind while he was none the wiser. And while you won't die today… you shall spend every last day of your life paying for those crimes."

"N-no… no, Iroh, you can't do this to me… I'm the Fire Lady… I'm the Fire Lady!" Ursa shouted. Iroh smirked.

"Not anymore, you're not," he said, curtly.

The meaning of his words wasn't clear, not beyond the obvious: Ursa would be deposed officially, starting today. The bulk of the soldiers who meant to protect her had been defeated effectively by their surprise attacks while they rushed to find Azula: next, they'd visit the Earth King, and explain everything to him thoroughly. And once they were ready, they'd return to the Fire Nation… and Ursa wouldn't see the light of day for the rest of her life.

But who would take her position instead? No one could tell just yet. There was one candidate, locked in a prison, stealthily chi-blocked by his uncle. There was another, cradled in her boyfriend's arms, crying in despair as she relented, accepting that her revenge wasn't what was best for the world, no matter how deserved it might be. And the final candidate, born and raised under the belief that he'd become Fire Lord one day, seemed to believe a new, fresher generation was better than himself for the role.

And as they lingered inside that room, calming down, waiting for the remaining, loyal soldiers to the Earth King to arrive upon being summoned by Toph's shouts out the window, none of them knew what the future would bring… but with Ursa defeated at last, it seemed fitting to believe the war was finally over. It hadn't been the epic bending brawl many expected… but when it came to ending wars, especially the long ones, what mattered most to anyone was that it was finally over, regardless of the manner in which they ended.

A world in peace was a concept that had eluded most their generations. That the Fire Nation would have suddenly withdrawn its troops from the Earth Kingdom, that they had signed treaties of peace with all remaining nations, would have sounded as an impossible, absurd delusion for most people… and yet it was their new reality. A reality that many people cherished deeply, though few cherished it quite as much as the heroes who, in a rather unexpected manner, had defeated the woman who had led the Fire Nation for the last six years.

Zuko, despite all hopes, had taken Iroh's actions as an unbearable betrayal. He would have been granted leniency, but he wanted none of it: he sought to attack his uncle and his sister as soon as he had a chance, demanding for reparations, for justice to be served, for his mother's freedom to be restored… and as much as it had pained Iroh, he had no choice but to restrain Zuko as well. His loyalty to Ursa was unquestioned… but misplaced, just as well. He would be likely to receive second chances in the future… but not until he was ready to listen to the truth. And for now, he certainly was anything but ready for that conversation.

The widespread fear Ursa had subjected her people to became apparent once Azula and Iroh returned home as the new leaders of the Fire Nation: they never expected a hero's welcome, and yet that was what they had received nonetheless. After many debates and thorough conversations with the nobles, the unanimous decision was made: Iroh would take the position of regent for a few years, to guide the transition between Ursa's rule and Azula's future one. The reinstated Princess wouldn't be crowned right away, but the Fire Nation had readily accepted her as their next ruler just the same. Surely occasional opposition would rise, as Ursa's loyalists would still linger somewhere… but fortunately, Azula had more than enough loyalists of her own to back her up.

The most important of them, of course, were currently in the Palace's garden, three of them engrossed in an all-out triple bending battle: Aang laughed as his airbending skills helped him avoid Katara and Toph's attacks, which too often resulted in the two girls striking each other instead. Azula was amused as well as she watched their fight, leisurely relaxing in Sokka's arms as he cuddled her gently.

"Odd… we were supposed to teach him all the elements, but the war ended without him learning any fire," Azula said. Sokka chuckled, kissing her brow.

"The war is over, though. He has plenty of time to learn now," he said. "And he'll have a great teacher, right? Whether you, or Iroh…"

"Eh, I'd be a dreadful teacher…"

"Heh! I'm only a decent warrior now thanks to you, you hear me? I learned a lot from you!"

Azula laughed, nuzzling his neck as she released a deep breath. Sokka smiled, rubbing her back reassuringly: these days, his tense Princess had been much more relaxed than usual. Coming home had done her good, he had no doubts about it… but perhaps it was also the knowledge that she'd helped set the world onto a better course that allowed her to breathe more easily. Her fingers clung to his shirt, clasping it gently, ensuring they'd stay close together for as long as possible… stabilized by the young man who had become her most loyal supporter, and the kindest boyfriend she could have ever hoped to find.

"I know it'll still be a while… and you should make sure to rest and recover from your years on the road while you can," Sokka said, rocking her gently in his arms. "But… I can't wait to see the wonders you'll weave, Fire Lord Azula."

"Wonders?" Azula repeated, smiling weakly. "I doubt that…"

"I don't," Sokka grinned enthusiastically.

"Who'd have thought the most loyal of my subjects wouldn't even be from my nation, huh?" Azula smiled, raising her head towards. him "Somehow… it feels fitting, too."

"We're breaking the cycle," Sokka said. "Marrying a Water Tribe guy? Sounds like just the way to break it for good, as far as I can tell. No old, outdated traditions will ever be followed: time to bring about harmony and peace in the best way possible, right, Azula?"

"By marrying each other? In a few years, that is," Azula said, smiling warmly. "I wouldn't trust anyone else to be my husband anyway."

"And I wouldn't trust anyone else to be my wife," Sokka said, stroking her hair. "It is kind of funny how life turns out, huh? We've come full circle, completely…"

"We have. And I'm definitely proud of it," Azula smiled, raising her head to kiss his lips. "Though… there's one thing left to do, to finish that notion."

"Oh yeah?" Sokka asked, amused.

"I… think I might love you too," Azula said, teasingly. "And even if I don't, I want to."

"Ah… hah," Sokka laughed, pressing his brow to hers. Azula grinned, kissing him again. "You're always so clever… always so clever."

Azula laughed as they exchanged more kisses, deliberately ignoring the loud, rowdy bending battle in the gardens. And from the corner of the nearest corridor, Iroh smiled fondly too, watching his niece from a distance. Theirs had been a strained relationship for a long time… but it certainly wasn't that anymore. Azula had been deeply grateful upon hearing of what he'd done to help save her… how he had set aside Zuko, and privileged her safety instead. By now, their relationship was better than ever… and it would continue to be, Iroh knew, as long as he didn't interfere in her private moments with her beloved Water Tribe warrior.

"I, too, can barely wait to see the wonders you shall weave," Iroh spoke quietly, closing his eyes and turning his back on the Princess.

She would make an excellent Fire Lord, he was sure of that… but for now, he would let her enjoy her time with her closest friends, in a peaceful environment, with no heavy pressures weighing on her shoulders. After all the hardships she had endured, and the pain she had suffered through, he had no doubts she had earned these miraculous moments of peace. Yes, peace, no doubt, was the best word to describe the beautiful scene he had just witnessed at a distance in the palace's garden, and in his earnest opinion, no one deserved such blissful harmony quite as much as Azula did.

A/N:

While I have no doubts I've cemented myself a terrible reputation for all my Ursa portrayals, I do want to set clear that I didn't write this particular entry to villify her, despite that's what it'll look like to some... the truth is, the whole basis of this idea came from the very frequently debated AUs where Azula is the banished one, rather than Zuko. I pondered under which circumstances could Azula EVER wind up banished at a young age, as well as how the blazes she'd ever be banished with Iroh, who'd most likely not join her of his own volition, if his characterization is kept true to his canon self. Then the idea of turning someone else into the bigger bad came to mind, someone both Azula and Iroh would develop personal grudges against, to the point of setting aside their differences to work together.

This is, therefore, just a matter of exploring storytelling possibilities for me - as can be obvious by the fact that this is, by FAR, my most favorable portrayal of Iroh up to date. I usually don't write him this way, just as I usually don't see Ursa as a character remotely as dark as she was in this entry: all was done for the sake of exploring storytelling posibilities and nothing else. One day I might surprise by offering you all a favorable Ursa portrayal, for a change! :'D All this being said, it's fine if you don't enjoy Ursa as I portrayed her here, but I want to set the record straight, it wasn't done for the sake of making her appear a fundamentally worse person than Ozai or anyone else. Basically, this is an Ursa who decided to stop at nothing to keep her son safe. And while that sounds pretty in paper, it can also have a very dark meaning, and that's why things turned out this way.

Hope you enjoyed this story anyway!

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 53

For everyone reading this it’s only been about four days since the last update, but it’s been like two weeks for me between writing and editing XD Suffice to say, life was kind of weighing me down. But here we are. Claymore has appeared and everyone is together. Seemingly to Ix’s expectations. What does that mean? Read on and find out in...

     -Sonic, Rosy, what’s going on. Guys!-

     “Hmhmhmhmhm,” the laughter of Saber the Red filled the room that Sonic and Rosy had caught up to Ix in and distracted them from Tails’ voice across their wrist device radios.

     “No!” Rosy shouted in surprise as Saber had appeared but a moment sooner, and after Claymore had strode into the chamber. What made Rosy scream however was that Saber had taken one of his namesake weapons from his shoulder pylons and jammed it straight up into Claymore’s midsection.

     “Ho!” Claymore shouted as he looked down at the far nimbler suit of armor. “You would show yourself now, traitor!”

     “Come now Claymore, I had hoped you would be more of a challenge than the autogolems you have roaming these halls.”

     “Curious,” Ix remarked as he looked back at the scene behind him. “How long did I slumber for the Sword Knights to turn on each other. Truly, the state of this world is wrong.”

     Twirling his staff for but a moment above his head, Ix slammed it into the ground, the crystal Rose at its head shining a bright purple. In response the ground cracked and splintered, a torrent of Rings bursting forth in response.

     “Ho! “Claymore shouted as he fell to a knee. “You would risk your own destruction as well foul mage. I had believed you would face me in battle at the heart of Tower Point.”

     “There is little need,” Ix remarked as Fukurokov and Fang stared at him in horror. “I can eliminate two knights at one time and simply choose a new vessel to continue my pursuit.

     “Then…? Ho! It was a trap!”

     “Sneaky,” Saber commented and withdrew his sword as he stepped back from Claymore. “I did not come to be buried this day however.”

     “Neither did I!” Fang shouted before turning pleading eyes onto Rosy. “You hafta get me outta this Rosy!”

     “You think I’ll let you get away?” Doctor Fukurokov leveled Fang’s own gun at the treasure hunter’s head to emphasize his threat. “And what trickery is this! You promised me a return to glory!”

     Turning the pop gun from Fang, Doctor Fukurokov took aim at Ix, and quickly paled as the stone golems rose around them. It was the opportunity Fang needed however and he fell back and lashed out with his tail. “Gah!”

     “Sorry, but I’m not hanging around here any longer,” Fang laughed as he knocked his gun free of Doctor Fukurokov’s grasp. Catching it as he braced himself on his tail, he shook the firearm a moment before springing up into the air and shouted at Rosy. “This time, I’m ready Rosy!”

     “What!” Doctor Fukurokov’ shouted as he saw a Ring Gate appear in Fang’s path disappearing with the jerboa-wolf hybrid in an instant. “Who~?”

     “Was that really a good idea, kid?” Sonic asked looking at Rosy who looked quite pleased with herself. At least until Sonic asked.

     “Soni~c,” she whined and puffed up her cheeks. “Fang is my friend and I had to help him, and now that he isn’t in danger, I can try to talk Ix down.”

     “It’s too late for that, Lady Medium,” Claymore scoffed as a dark purple mist began to swirl around his left arm. “The foul mage has already taken his leave. You fell for his bait and now he likely has another vessel en route to the heart of Tower Point.”

     “To think you failed so badly Claymore. Your sleep has made you rusty,” Saber mocked the far larger autogolem knight.

     “And you have lost all honor, Saber! Ho!”

     With his trademark shout, Claymore became a well of gravity and everything in the room became stuck in his pull. Ix’s stone body along with his golems were pulled apart, the debris pulled into Claymore’s body. A body which healed and grew with the consumption.

     “What is this!” Doctor Fukurokov shouted helplessly before being pulled off his feet and right into a Ring Gate that appeared before him and vanished.

     “You would save your obvious enemy, Ring Mage, Sonic the Hedgehog?”

     “You’re getting closer,” Sonic shook a finger at Claymore. “Just drop the mage bit and we’ll be good. Well, after I clean up your mess, stop Ix, and yeah, make sure no one gets more hurt than you already have today.”

     “Hmhmhmhmhm, it’s too late for that,” Saber laughed and took to the air and out into the cavernous main hall beyond the small room everyone had gathered in. Form his new vantage point, he could see everything collapsing around him and an army of golems rising past the golden twinkle of collected Rings. “Pir’Oth has already begun to collapse the whole of Tower Point. Soon, Yoluku will wake again! Hmhmhmhmhm!”

     “Yeah, not happening! Let’s go Amy!”

     Grabbing Rosy’s wrist, Sonic took off so fast she barely got her feet under her. When she did, Sonic noticed the drag immediately as she still had a long way to go to catch up to him in the use of his speed. Not wanting to waste time, Sonic scooped her up into his arms, and just in time to avoid collapsing debris.

     “Phooey!” Rosy complained, puffing up her cheeks even as she nestled into Sonic’s embrace and blushed happily. There was conflict in that joy though as the situation had gotten dire. “Why did it have to happen like that?”

     “Doesn’t matter,” Sonic dismissed the past. “But if we don’t do–”

     -Guys! Please tell me you’re okay. The data is going crazy and the whole city is starting to collapse!-

     “Tails!” Rosy shouted before remembering she had to activate the radio on her wrist.

     “Tails! I was right! It was Ix, and now he’s collapsing the whole city. I don’t know what to do, but Sonic and me are heading towards Ix now! And hopefully, we stop him. But you need to get out of here! It’s not safe, and–!”

     -What is that!-

     “What is what?” Sonic asked as the whole of the catacombs began to tremble and shake as though the entire landmass was being torn apart.

     The answer did not take long to be discovered.

     As Saber flew out of the growing sinkhole Tower Point was becoming, he was joined by the Tornado under remote control from a desperate to not lose it Zooey. Following them, not in pursuit but rather growth, Claymore emerged.

     He had grown massive beyond compare, the collapsing city feeding his gravity well. Whether or not the people of the city were spared as he grew was a mystery, but his artificial frame could easily harbor them all as it grew.

     “Are we going to be able to get away from that?” Draw asked looking at the absurd sight of the impossibly huge autogolem and the storm of purple clouds that swirled around him.

     “I couldn’t rightly say, lad,” Gill confided from where he joined Draw on the Deck of the Skyskipper. “It’s likely that knight will consume us all.”

     “I thought I was going to be safe here!” Fang surprised Gill and Draw as he came out onto the deck. “What is that fox girl doing!”

    Running to the deck and leaving the other’s confused, the sight of the Avocado Green joining the Skyskipper had no meaning to Fang. Neither did Mighty as he ran by him to demand an explanation, even as Zooey worked to open a Ring Gate large enough for both airships. Mighty did not follow Fang or return to the bridge as he watched the cloud of darkness around Claymore’s left arm become a giant maw of light filled darkness. With that looming maw the knight took a massive bite out of the city with.

     “SO~NI~C!” Rosy cried out at the top of her lungs as everything collapsed around her and Sonic within the gigantic maw.

     “Just get ready!” Sonic yelled as he tossed Rosy into the air in front of him.

     “Wah~!”

     “Just don’t enjoy this too much!”

     Leaping up after Rosy, he grabbed her hand and spun her about into him as he curled into a tight ball forcing her to do the same. Together they formed one giant rolling hedgehog ball and plowed through practically everything in front of them with growing speed. Until finally, they broke apart and Rosy flopped onto her back with swirling eyes and red face.

     “I said don’t get too excited,” Sonic sighed as he looked back at Rosy behind him. “That was simply the Rolling Combo Tails and I came up with. You didn’t do bad for your first go at it though.”

     Unsteadily stumbling to her feet, Rosy smiled as Sonic flashed her a thumbs up. But the expression did not last for long. Sonic had donned a dead serious look and turned his attention forward to the heart of the clockwork sphere they had arrived in. Following his gaze, Rosy gasped.

     “Ix!”

     She could not find the words to continue however as there were two of him. A wooden one, and one like the autogolem knights. A clockwork skeleton with a suit of armor built onto it, and of course his signature flowing purple robes.

     “So, you really had laid a trap for us,” Sonic gritted his teeth as he looked at the swirling gyroscopic device around the autogolem Ix, and how it and the gears within the clockwork sphere had nearly come to a halt.

     “One I had not expected you to survive,” Ix acknowledged his plan. “Yet, you do not seem to be the hero foretold of by the medium. My plans remain unchallenged. You two are far, far, too late, and there is nothing the fool Sword Knights can do to stop me. I am but one step closer to returning at last to the side of my old friend.”

     “We’ll see about that!”

     “KYAA~!!!!!”

     “Amy!”

     Sonic stopped mid-preparation to leap forward as Rosy suddenly screamed. Turning back, he saw the red light of a Red Star Ring pouring from her left eye, her face trapped in a moment of true fear. “AMY~!”

     ~Those were the last words I remember hearing Sonic say while I could see him. Everything after that is almost pure darkness. I can’t really remember anything. But I know I saw the Gear Star Ring in my eye crumble some more, letting the gear be fully connected along three points of the star. I just wish I hadn’t seen that in Sonic’s beautiful green eyes. He looked so desperate as he reached for me, but then I was just gone. But I heard it. At least for a moment. It was my voice. I was talking but it wasn’t me. It wasn’t me, and I’ve never been so scared.~

    “I am most afraid not, Dirt Dweller. ‘My’ Medium is gone.”      

Scene 53 · CLEARED Party Crashing, to be continued

-----

And isn’t that a doozy to end it on? XD Don’t worry, the next scene is out on Saturday (or already if you’re reading this after the publication date). As for who has possessed Rosy. Well, I’ve finally introduced my AU’s villain and I hope you enjoy this initial tease into their character. Next scene is the end of Season 1 and huge changes will be coming after that starting April. Please enjoy and I hope you’ll continue to follow me on The Journey!

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Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Insatiable (From “Final Fantasy XIV”) - Vocaloid Version – Azina, Masayoshi Soken – Insatiable (From “Final Fantasy XIV”)

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hi! I love your works and I was wondering if you could write something about a new "lost soul" saved by the gang and trying hard to fit in. A reserved female reader who secretly develops feelings for Arthur, knowing well he has no interest in getting involved with anybody. A good ol' heart-wrenching, I-will-pine-from-a-distance-and-suffer-in-silence kind of unrequited love. Ending is up to you (but maybe it's a happy one

This one turned out sweet. Arthur’s the biggest softy. That said, FLUFF AHEAD!

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You look around nervously, not sure you’re entirely in the right place. Everything’s changed so quickly, it’s hard to process. Sure, you’ve heard endless tales of gangs and outlaws, living wild and free, but you never knew the gritty details about any of it. Now here you are, living it. 

You ended up here with the Van der Linde gang because your life has a funny habit of putting you in the wrong place at the wrong time. You’d been on the train two days ago, and it got robbed by a gang. As they were busy killing the engineer and the conductor and going through everyone’s possessions, a man you’ve come to know to be named as Arthur rode by and killed the bastards. You sank to your knees in fright, afraid you’d be killed too. 

As you sobbed into the grass, your hero dismounted and comforted you. When you explained that you had no home, nowhere to go and nothing to return to, Arthur offered you to come with him. You accepted, of course, you just found yourself incapable of saying no. He put you on the back of his horse and rode down south of Blackwater and into a small hideout called Thieves Landing. 

You’ve never been here before, your parents told you as a child to avoid the place as though it had the plague. Everyone south of the Upper Montana knew it was where criminals hid and because of its layout, it was hard for the law to take. 

It was here that Arthur told you his gang was hiding out in and that you were welcome to stay until you got your life sorted. An older woman named Grimshaw immediately jumped on you and started barking orders, despite you being completely dumbfounded and confused. 

It’s been two days since you were brought in, but you’re not entirely convinced you’re fitting in all that well. The gang’s big with at least twenty members. All of them, even the women, have a track record. The only one who’s as innocent is a child named Jack, but the rest have done something to earn them at least a few days in jail, but most have earned even the noose should they ever get caught. 

It’s not a comforting idea exactly, but already you can see how tight-knit they all are. There’s a sense of family here, the likes of which you’ve never had the fortune of experiencing. While in the day, Grimshaw barks and even nips, at night she turns pleasant, making sure everyone gets a plate to eat and singing songs around the campfires. 

She’s not the only one to let down their hair at night. Most of everyone does, telling stories about things that have happened or singing songs. You especially liked it last night when a young man named Javier sat down and played his guitar, singing in Spanish. Being from down south yourself, you were used to hearing his native tongue though you understood none of the words. It was still pleasant to hear. 

“So, how’s you adjustin’?” asks the young girl next to you as you scrub at a shirt in the wash bin with a rather stubborn spot that doesn’t want to come out. She’s got brown hair and she’s wearing a faded purple dress with a rather pretty necklace. 

“I… I think I’m okay. But… Mary-Beth, isn’t it?” you say. She nods. “Can I be honest with you?” She nods again. “I really don’t fit in here. Not because you’re criminals and I’m not, it’s just… I have nothing to offer anyone. I don’t know how to steal, shoot a gun. Hell, I can barely ride a horse.” 

“And that’s okay,” Mary-Beth says with a small smile. “You can learn how to do those things. I’m more than happy helpin’ ya, and I bet the other gals will too.” 

“Not only that, but we can always use another girl,” Grimshaw snarls, stomping over to you both. “Now get to work, both of ya!” She marches away to go bully Tilly. 

“Don’t worry about Ms. Grimshaw,” Mary-Beth says when the woman’s out of earshot. “She likes to act tough, and sometimes she can be a little too forceful, but she does care.”

“That’s to be debated,” says Karen, walking over with a repeater in her hand. She must have just finished with guard duty. “That ol’ bat wouldn’t give a damn if we was all on fire, long as we’re workin’.” 

Mary-Beth gives a little giggle, but Karen walks off to go and talk with a red-haired man. Because Thieves Landing is so large, you’re still learning the names of the members of the gang. You’ve kept your ears open though, wanting to learn about these people, see how the other side of society works. 

Growing up, you never had many friends, always being very shy. At school, you were bullied a lot for reasons you couldn’t understand. Your parents tried to help you but there was little they could do aside from pulling you out of the school and teaching you themselves. They didn’t know much about math or science though, so they taught you what they knew: how to ranch and garden. 

When you were about ten, your father got sick and died. A few weeks later, your mother, who had contracted his illness, died too. You ended up at your uncle’s house, but he was such an abusive, angry drunk you just left one day when you were 15. You’ve been on your own since, jumping from one job to the next. You were between them when you were on that train a couple days back, when Arthur found you. 

As you sit and work, you smile as you think of your father. He used to tell you many stories, but your favorites were those about gunslingers and outlaws. Something about them seemed romantic and fantastical, the way they represented the idea of freedom, of never being tied down. You never thought you would be incorporated into a gang of them as an adult. 

A few hours later and you hear the somewhat familiar voice of the camp cook Pearson shouting that dinner’s ready. You sigh in relief, knowing that dinner signals the end of the day’s work and you can relax. The past two nights you’ve spent alone on your bedroll, being too shy to mingle, but as you stoop to collect your stew, you wonder if you can muster the courage to change that. 

Several of the gang has gathered around a large campfire to talk over dinner. There’s an empty seat, but it’s right next to Arthur Morgan. Sure, he’s the man who brought you here, but you feel especially unimportant next to him. He’s a big guy, much taller than yourself, broad, handsome. The girls told you he’s got a very rough exterior but secretly harbors a heart of gold. However, it wasn’t until you found out he holds some of the greatest weight in camp that made you shy around him. 

A hand pats you on the back, making you jump a little. Turning, you see Grimshaw. 

“Go on, have a seat, dear. You’ve earned it.” 

Unable to say no to her, you walk over and take a hesitant seat next to Arthur, hunching down a little. He doesn’t seem to notice as he’s listening to a man named Hosea tell a story about how he’d nearly been busted for robbing a house during a wake but how he’d managed to act his way out of being caught. It’s a rather funny story and as the others laugh appreciatively, you feel yourself relaxing. That is until Hosea’s story ends and he asks you a pointed question. 

���How are you settling in, miss?” 

You hate being brought out in the spotlight like this and it doesn’t help that Arthur, sitting so close, turns to look at you, his expression neutral. 

“Oh, I’m… I’m doing okay, thank you. Mary-Beth said she can teach me how to rob people, so I’m hoping I won’t be so useless to you anymore soon.” 

“No one’s complaining about you being useless,” says a man named John, sharpening his knife on a whetstone. “When you start bein’ as useless as Uncle, then we’ll have a problem.” 

“Hey, I work!” complains the man in question. 

“Really? When was the last time you lifted a finger ‘round here, ol’ man?” Arthur challenges. The group happily begins to bicker, but you’re grateful as it’s pulled their attention off of you. 

As the days pass, you begin to hear people in the gang beginning to talk about a big score. A member named Micah came in to bring the idea of a big river boat to the gang’s leader Dutch. From what you can make of Dutch, he’s a clever, calculating man who cares deeply for his family. Mary-Beth and Tilly told you how he and Hosea took both Arthur and John in as their sons despite not being much older themselves. They formed this gang together and it’s stayed strong. 

Ever since Micah brought in the potential job, the gang’s been humming with excitement. It seems to be a very big score and will need a lot of help for it to work. You’d like to volunteer, to contribute something, but you know you’re utterly useless right now. Mary-Beth’s only begun to explain the basics of robbing to you. However, this job sounds like it’s to come with a guaranteed gunfight. 

The day for the heist arrives and pretty much every man in the gang goes to do it. A few hours later, they return to Thieves Landing bearing bad news. Somehow the law knew the boat was going to be hit and they met the gang with fierce opposition. Poor Jenny, whom you’d just started to get to know, was shot and so was Davey and John. Dutch and Hosea start shouting for everyone to get packed up as the Pinkertons are in pursuit. 

Days go by and Thieves Landing is far behind you and the others. The gang has moved north, still trying to shake the Pinkertons off. Jenny passed away two days ago, but no one has been able to bury her as a massive snowstorm moved in shortly after she passed. 

Moral is at an all-time low, yours included. You wouldn’t dream of leaving though, these people have become your close friends and even border on something like a family. Grimshaw tries to encourage everyone to stay positive, but it’s clear she doesn’t feel it much either. 

Night falls once again as the wagon train goes along a narrow pass, the horses trudging through the thick snow. The weather has stayed horrible for days, dumping the white powder in great heaps. The Pinkertons haven’t been seen in the past two days. Perhaps this means the gang can finally find somewhere to hide. Dutch sent Arthur out a few hours ago to scout, along with John and Micah. 

Arthur returns just as Abigail makes note that Davey is nearly dead. He reports that he found a place to shelter and guides the train there. It’s a small town named Colter according to a small sign by the main trail. The gang moves into the largest building but Abigail says Davey’s passed. Soon after, Dutch and Arthur go out to find what else might be around and they end up bringing back a heartbroken woman named Sadie. 

Two days go by and the weather’s hardly let up. You stand outside in the freezing, snowy morning. You just need a break from the others for a while. Even though you enjoy most of them, being cooped up in such tight quarters for so long has worn you out. However, you’re already shivering from the cold under all your layers. 

“You doin’ okay? Ya look half frozen,” a voice says from behind. You turn and see Arthur, wrapped up in his big blue coat, his face hidden beneath his hat. 

“Yeah. Yeah, just need a break. Been a tough few days.” 

“It sure has.” Suddenly a fierce blast of wind whistles down the path and Arthur wraps an arm around you as though to protect you from it. As you lack a hat and your head’s covered only by a thin blanket, you bury your head into his chest. He lets you though, but as soon as the wind dies a little you pull away from him, your face red. You blame it on the cold wind. 

However, something changes with your view of Arthur. Sure, you’ve seen him comforting most people in the gang and he’s known for being caring and gentle, interested in all movements in the gang. But you were never a receiver of that care until now. You try denying your feelings, saying you’ve just been isolated for too long. 

Nearly a week goes by and you’ve tried keeping distance between yourself and Arthur, believing your feelings will cool down with the space. The weather finally breaks and Hosea suggests camping in a new place he knows in the Heartlands. The gang is moved into action finally and the wagon train moves down to it. 

It’s a great relief to finally be surrounded by trees and green rather than white and feel the warm sun instead of cold wind. The new camp spot, Horseshoe Overlook, is beautiful. Immediately you’re set to work by Grimshaw, but when night falls, you’re allowed to rest. 

You stand on the edge of camp near the cliff, overlooking the river and the canyon. This place is beautiful. You’ve rarely seen this much moving water, being from the desert. Arthur walks over with two bowls of stew. 

“Here, noticed you ain’t eaten yet.” He hands you one and you thank him. 

The two of you stand together, eating without speaking for a few moments. 

“So, now you been with us a while and seen us at our best and worst,” Arthur says, “what you thinkin’ of doing?” 

“How do you mean?” 

“I mean what you plan on doin’? You gonna stay or you thinkin’ of movin’ on? No one would blame you if you decided to leave.” 

“Do you… want me to leave?” you say with a pang. 

“No. No, far from it. I think you could easily find a place among us. Seems like you already have too. Pretty much everyone here likes ya.” 

You blush a little and look away. “I think I wanna stay. I like it here.” 

He smiles a little, his blue eyes shining. You feel a surge of desire to hug him, your heart beating a bit faster. “Well, good. Like I said, think you’ll fit in easy.” 

He takes your empty plate and heads off, leaving you alone. You turn and watch him, wanting nothing more than to be with him. Part of you wishes he’d come back to you, but he heads off to sit next to John and Hosea at the campfire. You turn back to watch the sunset, trying to push him out of your mind. It won’t do you any favors.

The next morning, you’re sitting with the other girls doing chores. Mary-Beth turns to you. “So, saw you blushing when Arthur said good mornin’ to you.” She gives you a sly look. 

“I… I thought I had to sneeze right when he spoke to me,” you lie. 

“It’s okay if you like him,” she says consolingly. “To be honest, I think we all developed a little thing for him in the beginning. I did anyways.” 

“I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t,” Tilly says. “But, do yourself a favor, Y/N. Move on from him. I ain’t sayin’ that out of selfishness or cruelty, but Arthur’s unavailable.” 

“I didn’t know he had someone,” you say sadly. 

“Well, he doesn’t anymore, but he can’t seem to move on from her,” Mary-Beth explains. 

As if on queue, Arthur walks out of his tent, reading a letter. Susan walks up to him and they exchange words. You hear the name Mary and Susan tells him she never liked her. He says something to her and then heads out. 

“And there he goes, off to see her,” Karen says sourly. “She barely has to say his name and he’ll move mountains to see her.” 

Your heart sinks even further. You’d just begun to accept the fact that you have some strong feelings for Arthur, but this is a harsh blow. If he’s still attached to this woman, it means he’s definitely not interested in you. It’d be best if you give him up. 

Night comes and Arthur’s returned. Once again, he brings you a plate of food as you stand near the cliff. A long silence passes between the two of you, your mind heavy. 

“You okay? Awful quiet,” he says. 

“I’m doin’ just fine, Arthur, thank you though,” you say somewhat coldly. You mentally make a note to be a little nicer. It’s not his fault you’ve got a crush on him. 

“You sure? If ya need to talk, I’m always willin’ to listen. I want ya to be happy.” 

God, why does he have to be so sweet yet so unavailable? It’s incredibly frustrating. You turn to him. 

“Well, maybe you can help. Have you ever had real strong feelings for someone? Someone you couldn’t be with because you know they’d never want to be with you, and because they’re hung up on someone else?”

He gives you a curious look. “Who you talkin’ about?” His face falls a bit. “It’s John, ain’t it? You got a thing for him, don’t ya?”

Is that envy in his eyes? “J-John? No, Arthur, I don’t have a thing for John. Sure he’s nice and funny, but he’s not my type. Plus I think Abigail would murder anyone who tried anything with him.” 

His face lightens up a bit. “I think you’re right there. Well, I don’t know much about relationships. Pretty useless, in fact.” 

You smile up at him. “Well, thought I’d ask.” 

“Who is this person?” he asks. “Anyone I know?” 

“Definitely. He’s… someone in this gang, but like I said, he’s emotionally unavailable. Besides, I wouldn’t stand a chance with him.” 

“Ah, don’t sell yourself short.” He sighs a little. “Well, maybe you just need to walk up to this feller, tell him exactly how you feel.” 

“Okay. Arthur, I like you.” 

“Exactly. Just like that.” He smiles. “See? It ain’t so hard.” 

“No, Arthur, you’re not listening to me,” you say, your face beat red. “I said I like you.” 

He blinks and straightens up a bit. He looks shocked. Or maybe that’s anger. Fear stings your stomach and you take a step back. 

“I… I’m sorry. I was… just practicing.” You turn to walk away, deciding never to be alone with Arthur again. You can’t blame him for being angry either. You wouldn’t like you if you were him. 

“Y/N, wait.” His hand’s on your shoulders. “Did you mean it?” 

You look down at your feet. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I didn’t choose to like you, and I’m sorry for it. Not because you’re not a good man,” you say hastily at the look on his face. “What I meant is I’m sorry for… me.” 

His eyes soften considerably. “Please don’t apologize. Especially for you bein’ yourself. Can I tell you a secret?” He leans in a little and whispers, “I’ve liked ya since that day up in Colter.” 

You blush even deeper. “Me too.” 

His arms suddenly slide around you, hot and gentle. Your hands are on his shoulders and he leans down, placing his lips on yours. Something flutters in your chest. It’s like a bird is trapped inside, fighting to get out. They’re slightly chapped, but the moment his lips touch yours, the bird settles and gives a satisfied purr. You lean into the kiss, sighing a little. 

“Bout time you two finally did somethin’,” Hosea says, walking past. He gives you both a sly smile. “Dutch and I been gettin’ tired of seeing you two gettin’ all dovey eyed when the other wasn’t looking.” 

You laugh and put your forehead onto Arthur’s chest, trying to hide your face as Arthur laughs. 

“Sorry, Hosea.” 

“Nah, you two kids have fun.” He walks off, chuckling a bit. Arthur looks down at you and smiles. 

“You wanna go somewhere a little more private? Try that kiss where we won’t be spied on?” 

You bite your lip and smile, nodding. Arthur takes your hand and leads you off into the trees. You pin him to a tree and kiss him hard, pressing your body on his. His arms slide up your back and wind into your hair. As the kiss deepens, you wonder where else this night will go. 

[the-silvr-speedster]

Home

Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Pairings: Daisy Johnson / Daniel Sousa

The team meets on the Zephyr for the last time before going their separate ways. Daisy reflects on the past seven years with them while trying to come to terms with losing the only home she's ever known. In the meantime, she is trying to find a way to tell Daniel about their time loop kiss, which is not such an easy task with the lack of privacy on the spaceship. Daisy also has an awful nightmare and Daniel is there to pick her back up.

Sequel to ‘About Starfish and Squares’ but can be read as a stand-alone.

Also posted on AO3.

Hey guys! 

I am soooo happy you liked my previous fanfic and since you wanted more, and I had a lot of ideas, here is Part Two. I wanted to write something short, basically, just Daisy telling Daniel about their time loop conversation and the kiss. And once again it turned out as this massive thing, even longer than Part One. I had a lot on my mind since I started rewatching the whole series again before the finale which I am equally excited and scared to watch. However it ends (and I really hope Dousy gets a happy ending) I will cry like a baby. Anyhow, thanks for the lovely comments on About Starfish and Squares on AO3, your support really helped me with finishing Part Two. I hope you will like it as well. Sorry for any mistakes. OK, so enough of my rambling. Enjoy the reading!

FYI I used a small part of the song Freaking me out by Ava Max in one section. It just felt right considering Daisy's feelings. (And I keep singing the song over and over so...)

Disclaimer: All characters are a property of Marvel and Marvel television.

Home.

What is it? What does it feel like? Is it a place or people? Daisy used to ask these questions for years. She wasn’t the only one, though. All the other children at St. Agnes orphanage were plagued by the same thoughts, the same questions. The same hopes. Every one of them hoped that one day someone would come and give them what they want. A home. It didn’t matter they didn’t know what it meant, they all wanted it. Daisy craved it. Some children believed that it wouldn’t be strangers coming through those doors but their own parents. They would open the doors, nervously step through, and explain everything. Apologize. There would be tears, there would be hugs, and hearts mended. They would take them home and forget about the past. Even Daisy imagined it, oh, so many times. She used to just sit there and hypnotize the old creaking wooden doors in the common room while other kids played. She did it so often that she remembered every crack, every deformity that could be found on them. Sometimes those doors opened and her heart leaped to her throat in expectation. Strangers came in and took her to their home but it was always over sooner than she could think of it as her home. She was back at St. Agnes and the doors were closed again. Only one time she really thought ‘this could be my home’. She had hope but even that was crushed when the family sent her back within a month. St. Agnes was her only constant. Or was she a constant at St. Agnes? Children would come and go, they would be fostered or adopted. Daisy was one of the few that would always stay. Until she had enough of it, of course.

She dropped from high school and left. No more Mary Sue Poots. How could they name her that anyway? Meet Skye, a fierce hacker. No, a hacktivist. Once again, she thought she found if not a home then at least a place she belonged to. With Miles and the Rising Tide. But now she knows that she hasn’t found a home until that day when two agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., an organization she despised for years, came knocking on the door of her van. She didn’t know home until she met Phil Coulson and his team.

She kept her eyes trained on the person in question as he was busy talking with Fitz and Mack. Well, not him, really, just an LMD version of him. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. It was him and it wasn’t him. He died. She mourned him. He was like a father to her, more of a father than her own father. No, Coulson was her dad. Or is. Or whatever. She kept coming back to their conversations during the time loops. Daisy was afraid Coulson was going to do something unexpected, like turn himself off permanently, after their mission was over. She just got him back - in a way - she couldn’t lose him again. But he didn’t and he doesn’t belong in this world anymore. Just like her, Daniel, and Deke.

Well, it’s really hard to think about Deke as someone who doesn’t belong here. He is like a tardigrade, he can survive anywhere and anytime, obviously. She is reminded of his ‘80s band, the Deke squad, again. She shakes her head, smiling. He was thriving in the ‘80s just as he was in 2019. She has no doubt he will be more than okay even now. That also has her thinking about what he’s going to “borrow” this time. First it was tech and then songs. Maybe now he will finally come up with something original. Daisy moves her eyes to him. He’s sitting next to Simmons and Diana, excitedly speaking of something, nursing a beer in a glass from Deke Squad’s official merch that he somehow managed to sneak on the Zephyr before they left the ‘80s. There were at least dozen of boxes of t-shirts, glasses, headbands, keychains, and who knows what else. Daisy has found out about it only two days ago, when Deke decided to move the boxes and managed to break the main controls panel on the bridge with one from the heavier ones.

“What the hell, Deke?” She yelled, after she reached the bridge and assessed the damage.

“It broke,” he told her innocently.

“Are you kidding me? It broke? On its own, huh? You had nothing to do with it at all, right?” Daisy stood there in the middle of the bridge, hands on her hips, scolding him like a child. She sighed. “Fix it. Before Mack comes back and sees it.”

“On it!” He called and tried to hurriedly leave the bridge but tripped over one of the boxes that were lying all around.

“Why are all these boxes up here?” Daisy came towards one of them and was about to peek inside only to be abruptly stopped by Deke. “What’s in there?”

“Nothing! Just some personal belongings,” he said maybe a little too fast.

“Oh, really?” She asked him incredulously. Daisy pushed him away and opened the box. She furrowed her brows in confusion as she saw its contents. Glasses. She moved to the next box. She took out a t-shirt. “Why do you need all of this stuff, Deke?”

“It’s Deke Squad merch! I couldn’t leave it just lying there on the base!” He defended.

Daisy looked at Daniel, who was watching their interaction with an amused expression, rolled her eyes, and then shoved the t-shirt into Deke’s hands, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Get it out of here.”

He nodded and started to move the boxes around.

“I’m going to help him,” Daniel informed her with a look that said ‘just to be sure he doesn’t break anything else’ while stepping carefully around the closest box.

“Alright,” she gave him a grateful smile. “I’m going to wake up Coulson and order some pizza.”

“Pizza for breakfast? Really?” He eyed her doubtfully. “I think I can do better than that.”

“It’s lunch already,” Deke spoke up from behind a stack of boxes.

“Why not have a pizza for breakfast?” Daisy asked with a shrug, completely ignoring Deke’s remark. “Pizza is always a great idea. Plus, you have work to do here. You can’t make us a proper breakfast.”

“It won’t take forever to put these away,” Daniel assured her while stepping closer. “I’ll be in the dining area in a few minutes and trust me I’m going to make you a breakfast sooner than they would deliver pizza.”

“Wait, did you guys just wake up or something?” Deke commented still hidden behind the boxes. But for her, it was like background noise.

Daniel was now standing in front of her fixing her in place with his eyes and giving her a small smile. She felt him take her hand in his. He brought it up to his lips and softly kissed her knuckles. Daisy could feel the so long forgotten feeling of butterflies in her stomach and tried to fight the blush creeping to her cheeks.

“Okay,” she mumbled quietly.

“I’d rather have pizza,” Deke said as he emerged from behind the fortress of boxes he just put up. Daisy quickly took her hand from Daniel’s and both of them made a step back from each other. Deke eyed them suspiciously.

“Yeah, uh, I’m going to wake Coulson up,” Daisy threw over her shoulder as she hurried away from the bridge leaving the two men behind.

Daisy thinks of that pile of lemons Deke once placed in her bunk. They really had a weird way to express affection in the postapocalyptic future he’s from, that’s for sure. Somehow that feels like a long time ago. The talk they had when she tried to explain she’s not ready to let anyone in. Not then, maybe not ever. Not after Lincoln. The pain, the guilt, and the regret she felt for so long keeping her heart locked away. Hidden and safe. The ghost of her love for him lingering deep within it. Love that remained unspoken since she never got the chance to tell him ‘I love you’. She remembers how Deke’s hope was crushed by her words. The kicked puppy expression he had on his face. Daisy didn’t want to hurt him but she didn’t want him harboring hope for something that might never be. She wonders if he still has that crush on her. ‘Most likely not,’ she told herself, a smile tugging at her lips. He moved on and somehow, she did too. What looked like an impossible thing less than two years ago, now became a reality. She has no idea how or when things changed. Maybe it was around the time she and Simmons were high on those puffies on Kitson. Maybe she needed that to happen to realize what she really wanted. To be honest with herself. She told Jemma she wants her own Fitz and the realization of what she said stayed with her even days after that, never actually leaving the back of her mind. But the planet needed to be saved again so she pushed it away and forgot about it. That memory floated back up just a few days ago. The memory of her and Jemma under that gaming table in the casino.

Daisy’s eyes flicked towards Daniel and remained on him, studying him. He and Mack took shifts at preparing the food on the grill. Now it was his turn. Meanwhile, he listened to the conversation between Mack, Fitz and Coulson and often joined in. And of course, he never forgot to send her a look or a smile, to make sure she’s okay. He was just laughing at something Fitz said, judging from Fitz’s awestruck expression they were probably grilling Daniel about his past and SSR. Daisy grinned. Fitz is going to talk his ear off. She looked at the bottle of beer she was nursing in her hands and tried to collect her thoughts. While the memory from Kitson resurfaced only a while ago, her confused feelings caught her attention during the time loops. More precisely, she realized that there is something there, that wasn’t before. There’s a heart now, where there used to be a ghost. She kissed him and remained silent about it. It freaked her out, that’s why she kept it quiet until the mission was over. She often acts on impulse and then freaks out.

Daisy let out a long breath and looked at Daniel again. She still hasn’t talked to him about their kiss in the time loops, not for the lack of trying but for the lack of privacy, among other things. The last few days were crazy.

When Daisy walked into the dining area Daniel has already started making breakfast. She’s probably spent more time talking with Coulson in the LMD lab than she thought.

“That smells amazing,” she called from the doorway.

“Told you it’s going to be good,” Daniel said over his shoulder.

She can’t exactly tell when he decided to be her personal chef but it might have started after he caught her eating breakfast for dinner one evening in the ‘80s. Who says she can’t have cereals with milk whenever she wants to?

Daisy walked closer and hopped on the counter next to him. “Hmm, pancakes are the best,” she agreed while jabbing her finger in the pancake batter and tasting it.

“Oh, no. No eating the batter, young lady,” Daniel scolded her with a teasing grin while he took the bowl away from her.

“Hey, don’t be such a grandpa about it,” she said, pretending to be offended. “What’s that?” She pointed towards a bubbling dark purple mass in another pot.

“That’s a sauce made from forest fruit mix I found in the freezer with a few secret ingredients I won’t disclose,” he winked at her.

“Someone’s being secretive,” she teased. “It looks delicious.” Daisy leaned over the pot and took a deep breath. “I can smell some cinnamon, hmm…maybe few drops of vanilla extract…a drop of love…” She paused, opening one eye, spying on Daniel’s reaction. He was giving her an amused look.

“Now, why would I use a love potion?” He teased back with a smirk.

Daisy regained her sitting position and dramatically sighed while pretending to be occupied by looking at her nails. “Yeah, you are right. You don’t need one.” It took her a moment to realize what she has just said. Better yet, what underlying meaning those words held. Her breath caught in her throat and she carefully looked up at him. Daniel had that soft look on his face again. That look she always wants to kiss away. She had to look at her hands. “I mean you are so likable. Everyone here likes you,” she babbled quickly.

“I don’t make pancakes for everyone,” he told her softly and she had to look up at him again. Those warm honest eyes. Suddenly she’s back in the time loop. ‘And you…you’d like to…be that someone?’ ‘Not for everyone.’ Oh, God. She has to tell him. Right now.

Well, in the hindsight…She never should’ve distracted him while he was making pancakes.

“You guys are making a smoke grenade or something?” Coulson spoke up the same moment the both of them noticed the burning pancake batter on the pan.

Everyone came back to the Zephyr to say the last goodbye. And by everyone, she means even Andrew, whom May has dragged along after long hours of explaining to him why his wife is a different person from the one he came to know over the years. Telling him she has empathic abilities. She also mentioned that he is Inhuman and their daughter might be as well. It must’ve been an interesting conversation. Daisy would’ve liked to see it.

With all those people coming on board, the spaceship started to become more and more crowded. It’s not that she wouldn’t be happy to have all of them here again after a few days of it being just her, Daniel and Coulson, but she kind of misses the privacy it provided. Maybe that’s why she is tucked away in a corner alone, watching over all of them. Her team. No, not a team. A family. Because teams break apart, families not so much. They always stay together, even if it’s from afar. A family never gives up on you. Well, maybe some families do, some are messed up like that. ‘Like my biological family,’ she thinks. But not this family. They never gave up on her. Yes, there were some initial reservations after she got her powers, but Coulson has never given up on her. Not when she chose the Afterlife over her family in S.H.I.E.L.D.. Not when she broke more than just their hearts after being infected by Hive. Not when she walked away them to become a vigilante after Lincoln sacrificed for her, because of her mistakes. Definitely, not when she started to believe she’s the Destroyer of Worlds. They gave her a chance after chance. They let her grow. She is not the same person she was almost seven years ago. She is not that wide-eyed girl living in her van being obsessed with superheroes and revealing the truth to the world. Skye died in that Kree temple and Daisy Johnson has been born. Or did she? Daisy likes to believe that a small part of Skye is still left somewhere inside of her. She liked Skye. She may have been naïve, but she wasn’t burdened by that darkness Daisy has inside. By those demons and nightmares.

“A time loop?” Daniel asks her.

“Fun, right?” Daisy comments with a sigh, her eyes scanning through the contents of the drawer… ‘Wait, what?’ She looks up confused. They are back in the time storm. ‘No. No, no, no…no. Not again.’ “Daniel? What the hell is-” She starts to say but he cuts her off.

“This is why I wanted to stay with this team. Do you ever have a day when something crazy doesn’t happen?” Daniel asks a little too excited.

“It’s been a while.” She speaks involuntarily. “Hey! Daniel?!” She waves her hands frantically in front of him. He doesn’t notice it.

“Reminds me of my SSR days,” he tells her, nostalgic smile on his lips.

“We just need to get that implant out,” she says and decides to just take the scanner but Daniel stops her.

“Wait! It’s a trap,” he warns her.

“But we don’t know that yet.” Daisy looks at him confused. ‘Why would I say that? We know it’s a trap. This…this has already happened.’

“We do. You said somebody obviously went to the drawer and…,” he pauses. “Simmons was supposed to get the scanner, right?”

“Yeah, until I told her I was gonna do it.” Daisy looks around as the lights start to flicker. ‘Something doesn’t feel right,’ she thinks.

“Every attempt so far has been on Simmons. She’s the one they’re trying to kill,” Daniel says looking at her.

“Maybe, but we still need the scanner.” ‘Oh.’ He’s gonna take it. She can’t let him do it again. She reaches for the scanner but her hand goes right through it. ‘What?’ Fear starts to settle in her bones.

“Right, but if I die, I’ll just, you know…reset. No problem. If you die, you’ll lose your memories and waste all this time relearning everything. Time, we don’t have,” Daniel explains and reaches into the drawer without a second thought, grabbing the scanner.

“What are you doing? This is crazy!” She says trying to move from her place but to no avail.

“This is my purpose. I know that know,” he tells her a flicker of blue in the brown of his eyes. His voice is getting weird. Muffled, like by a static on a radio…

She tries to look around for something, anything to help her take at least one step closer to him so she could take that scanner from him. ‘Something is way off.’

“Why would you-”

“To make sure this worked. To make sure you didn’t try this yourself,” he cuts her off and when she looks up it’s not Daniel standing there anymore, but-

“Lincoln? What…” She pauses, looking at him in shock. He’s wearing the same S.H.I.E.L.D. jacket he had back then. Yo-Yo’s necklace is hanging from his fist. His face is bloody and his blue eyes are piercing through hers. “It was supposed to be me,” she mumbles quietly, tears running down her cheeks. “You should’ve let me die!”

Lincoln gives her a sorrowful smile. “I would never let you die.” His voice is echoing around her. She can feel its vibrations in her bones. “So, it’s fine,” he mutters, a little surprised, looking at the scanner in his hand.

“No! It’s not. Let go of it!” She screams hopelessly. “You can’t just die for me like this. This is wrong!”

Suddenly she hears a weird sound coming from the scanner and Lincoln lets out a groan. A shadow of confusion crosses his face. However, as he leans back against the table he fades in and out like the flickering light above them and finally changes back into Daniel.

“Sousa?!” Daisy calls to him. “Daniel!” He looks up at her with fear in his eyes, blood spilling from his mouth. “No!”

“Hey, hey, hey, Sousa,” her body finally lets her move close to him as he starts slipping to the ground. She tries to lower him more carefully until he sits down. “Hey, Daniel, look at me. It’s gonna be okay,” she tells him, a quiet sob breaking her voice. “It’s gonna reset. You’ll be fine.” She sits down next to him and let him lay down on her lap.

“Why is it taking so long!” She yells into the empty ship. Daisy cups his cheek with one hand and strokes his dark hair with the other one. “Please, stay with me,” she whispers almost inaudibly. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The time loop has to reset. It always does!” A stray tear drops on Daniel’s forehead. “Please,” she begs, sobbing. “Daniel!” But he doesn’t hear her anymore.

She watched hopelessly as the last light slipped away from his eyes. She could feel how his heart gave its last weak beat. He was gone. He died for her just like Lincoln did.

Suddenly she feels too much. She feels every vibration around her, but not those she needs to feel. Those of his heartbeat. It’s like her own heart is trying to beat for them both, picking up speed until everything around her shakes. But she doesn’t care anymore. Panic and pain are clawing at her chest making her breathless.

She sees her mom, lying there lifeless after Malick snapped her neck. She sees Enoch. She sees Lincoln floating in midair. Lash. Her mother again. Triplett…The room is becoming filled with bodies of those she cared about but had to die because of her.

“It has to reset,” she mumbles weakly. “It has to reset. It has to reset. It has to reset.” Daisy closes her eyes and hugs Daniel closer.

Daisy.

“Lumley said that we should stay the hell away from you.”

She looks up at the sound of that voice. It’s Coulson. The real one.

“I had a chance at healing up from this,” he points to his chest, “but I gave the serum to you.”

Daisy.

“He said that wherever you go, death follows.”

Daisy!

“He was right.”

Daisy!!

Wake up!

*******************************************************************************************

The plane was shaking. Daniel woke up in his bunk with a start. At first, he thought they are taking off somewhere but that didn’t make sense. None of the four of them knew how to pilot the Zephyr. Daisy managed to fly the quinjet on her first try back in the ‘80s, but that-

Then it hit him. “Daisy!” Those are her quakes…

He jumped out of the bed and stormed into the corridor where he almost collided with Coulson.

“Where’s Daisy?” He asked him worriedly.

“Hey, guys? What’s going on?” A very sleepy Deke looked out from the door of his bunk. “Why is everything shaking? Are we going somewhere?”

“She is in her bunk,” Coulson informed him ignoring Deke completely and Daniel didn’t waste any second standing there as he hurried towards Daisy’s bunk. “I was going through the supplies when this started. I was just about to go check on her. She’s probably having a nightmare.”

Daniel stopped before her doors and faced Coulson with a concerned look in his eyes. “Nightmares cause her to quake?”

“Only the really bad ones. Actually, she didn’t have an episode like this in forever,” he explained with a mixture of sadness and worry. “I think you should check on her.”

Daniel was about to ask him if he’s really okay with it being him but the plane was hit by another strong quake and the light started to flicker above them. He gave a nod to Coulson and opened the doors to Daisy’s bunk.

Daisy was lying mostly still, the only evidence of her discomfort being her tear-streaked cheeks, the way she was grasping at the blanket and her rapid breathing. It physically hurt Daniel to see her like that. So strong and yet so vulnerable.

“It has to reset. It has to reset,” she started mumbling from the dream and another wave of tears slipped from under her eyelids. “It has to reset. It has to reset!”

Daniel was at her side in a second, wiping the tears away from her face and caressing her hair.

“Daisy,” he tried softly.

“It’s about the time loops.” He heard Coulson comment from the doorway.

“Daisy,” Daniel tried again, carefully cupping her face in his hands.

Another, even stronger quake hit the plane. Daniel heard something clatter to the ground and another distinct sound of a breaking glass somewhere in the dining area. He looked around just in time to see Coulson leaving to assess the damage, followed closely by Deke. He turned his focus back to the still sleeping woman.

“Daisy!” He tried more loudly this time.

She whimpered.

“Daisy!! Wake up!”

Her eyes snapped open with a loud gasp. She shot up into sitting position, the unexpected movement almost making him fall from the side of her bed. She was looking around in bewilderment, gasping for air.

“It’s okay,” Daniel told her with a calming voice, his hands going to her face again, forcing her to look at him. “You are safe. It was just a dream.”

“D- Daniel?” Daisy mumbled. Her brown eyes meeting his. They held so much pain and fear.

“Yeah,” he gave her an encouraging smile, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “I’m here. But Daisy, you have to stop quaking.”

The shaking stopped suddenly. She raised her hand from her lap and softly put it on his chest, right above his heart. He saw a flash of relief on her face before it was replaced by guilt. She looked down.

“Hey! Don’t feel guilty about this. The plane survived a time storm, this was nothing,” he spoke calmingly.

“Is everyone okay?” She asked him quietly.

‘Of course, she would worry about everyone else but herself,’ Daniel thought to himself. He gently raised her chin so she would meet his eyes again.

“Yes,” he assured her. However, the moment he looked into her eyes he saw they no longer held pain or fear or guilt. They were just…empty.

“Daisy?” He started softly. “Do you, uh… Do you want to talk about it?”

She considered it for a moment but then shook her head and let her hand fall from his chest back to her lap, her eyes following.

“Okay. You don’t have to.” Daniel let his hands drop from her face and moved further back to give her some space.

She was sitting there quietly, her long hair cascading around her face, hiding it from him. Daniel realized that the silence is even worse than her quiet sobs while she was still asleep. He wanted to help her somehow but he didn’t want to push her further away by insisting on talking about it. He considered leaving, because maybe she just needed more space but he didn’t want to leave her alone. She shouldn’t be alone not if the nightmare was so bad that it caused quakes.

Daniel thought about what Coulson has said. ‘Was it really about the time loops?’ She hasn’t told him much about what happened in there. He knew only the general stuff Coulson and Daisy told the whole team about after Enoch’s sacrifice. They’ve been in there for a long time, finding a way how to save everyone almost at the last second. Nobody else remembered but the two of them, probably because of their sleeping pods. Some members of the team died during the time loops because Enoch was programmed to kill if anyone tried to remove Simmons’s memory blocking implant. Was her nightmare about that? Possibly. It would give nightmares to anyone.

“Do you want me to leave?” He decided that at least he should give her the option even if he wanted to stay.

She quickly looked at him, a flash of panic crossing her soft features. A clear ‘No’ to him. But then she composed herself and looked away.

“Yes,” she whispered almost inaudibly.

He raised an eyebrow and sighed. She is not making this easy at all.

“I think I’ll stay anyway,” Daniel exclaimed.

“I told you to go,” she looked up at him a light annoyance on her face.

“See, you tell me to leave but you don’t actually want that,” he gave her a small smile.

“How do you know what I want, huh?” She asked him, anger seeping into her voice. “I want to be alone.” Daisy moved further away from him.

“Honestly?” He sighed looking at his hands and then back at her. “I know people like you. Focused on the greater good, even at your own expense. You want people to think you like being alone, even though you always end up back with friends,” Daniel told her and met her eyes again. The annoyance was gone. She was looking at him with a mixture of shock and…surprise? He decided to push his luck further. “You all keep running at the problem full tilt until you either solve it or slam headlong into a brick wall. But you don’t have to deal with the aftermath alone, even though you think so. You should have someone there to pick you back up. Someone to help you unload that burden or share its weight.”

Daisy closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Few tears escaped from her eyes and she frantically wiped them away. She laughed, but it was a sad laugh.

“I am trying to be angry at you but I can’t. Not after…after you say…that,” she spoke. “You know, we had a very similar conversation in the time loops.”

Daniel raised his brows in surprise but decided to stay quiet and let her continue.

Daisy sniffled. “I asked why you are always there, whether to help me or watch over me, and you gave me the speech you just did. Again.” She looked at him in curiosity. “So, uh, you want to be that person for people like me?”

Daniel gave her a small meaningful smile. “Yes. But not for everyone.”

“You said that, too,” she smiled sadly. “You are right, you know. I…I want you to stay. But I also want you to go. My life’s a mess. I…People I care about tend to get hurt…,” she took a deep breath and added very quietly, “…or worse.”

“Daisy-” Daniel started to say but was cut off.

“I have demons. My past is…” she shrugged and wiped her tears away again.

“We all have skeletons in our closets,” Daniel told her. “I am not scared of yours.”

“You should be,” she murmured.

“Let me be the judge of that. One day. When you are ready.” He decided to risk moving a tiny bit closer and taking her hand in his. He looked into her eyes so she would see that he really means every word he says. “I am not going anywhere.”

For a brief moment, he could see the fight in her eyes. But it was there just for a few seconds. New tears ran down her cheeks but she made no move to wipe them away this time. She moved closer instead and hugged him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Daniel’s arms sneaked around her waist pulling her close. He could feel her tears seeping through his shirt. He sighed and when she let out a muffled sob, he comfortingly stroked her back.

“They are all leaving,” she said between sobs. “I’ve never thought it would come to this. They are the only family I’ve ever known.”

His heart ached for her. “And they will never stop being your family. Families change, grow, their members go their separate ways but always come back together.” It made him think of his own family, of his home. He couldn’t even say goodbye and will never see them again. He lost it all in a blink of an eye. But he was supposed to be dead and now he got a second chance at life. As Coulson said - a life after death.

“I know,” she mumbled. “But it won’t be the same.”

“No, it won’t,” Daniel whispered into her hair.

Daisy let out a yawn.

“Maybe you should try to rest a bit more,” he suggested.

She leaned back and he could see the uncertainty mixed with fear in her eyes. She was scared of the nightmares. “Will you hold me? I promise I won’t quake you out of the bed,” she gave him a small teasing grin.

“Whatever you want, Quake,” he teased back and she caught the collar of his shirt and pulled him down with her.

*******************************************************************************************

Daisy knows now that she can’t let her demons stand in the way of her happiness. Those demons are in the past but will always be a part of her. A part she will share with Daniel one day, as well as he will share his own demons. Yes, she is scared that she could lose him like Lincoln but a small part of her has a hope that it won’t happen this time.

‘We are going home.’ Four simple words Daniel said to her in that barn. Words that kept her fighting. Back there it was just a promise to make it back to the Zephyr, because where was home? Her only home were the people on board the Zephyr, her team and family. Where was home for Daniel? She couldn’t ask him then. They plucked him out of his time, his home.

Maybe she is losing her family in some way but maybe she will gain something else. Her own Fitz. Maybe, she already has.

‘We are going home.’ It could be a promise of something else. Now those words could mean more. She can feel that warm fuzzy feeling in her chest when she thinks about it. When she thinks about him. She smiled, her eyes fixed on Daniel as she took a sip from her beer.

“Just kiss him already,” May spoke up from beside her.

Daisy choked and slapped her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from spitting the beer out. She coughed a few times and May hit her on the back.

Privacy. She misses it.

“May! What the hell?!” She exclaimed annoyed and berated herself for not realizing that May sneaked up on her. And her feelings. ‘Shit.’ She gave her a glare.

“Just saying,” the older woman shrugged. “You know, there are bets going around on when you two finally become a couple. Officially. They refused to let me participate because of my empathic powers.”

Daisy groaned and rolled her eyes. “Mack and Yo-Yo already had one bet when we were in the ‘80s. Not sure what it was exactly about but Mack won,” she shrugged thinking that it may have been about the kiss. “You guys are the worst; one doesn’t have any privacy.”

“We are just happy to see you smiling like that. To see you happy again,” she patted her on the arm. “But please, do something about it already because this…tension is killing me.”

“I was going to, but as I said, there is no privacy on this spaceship with all of you here,” Daisy defended her lack of actions. She really wanted to tell him the morning after he stayed with her because of that awful nightmare but Mack and Yo-yo were already back and they probably heard about that nightmare from Coulson because they both wanted to go check on her which ended up in Coulson calling after them: “I strongly advise you not to go there.” She could hear their ‘Why?’ followed by a surprised ‘Oh!’ from Mack. She remembers as she quickly shot out of the bed, Daniel’s confused ‘Daisy?’ following her. She rushed into the corridor with ‘I am fine, thank you’, closing her bunk behind her and added: “No weird assumptions are needed.” The three teammates were looking at her in amusement.

“Yeah, everyone is here, as in here and not there,” May pointed at the bridge since they were all in the cargo bay with the ramp lowered down.

Daisy considered what May was proposing but quickly refused the idea by shaking her head. “Nope.” She could already see the faces of everyone after she and Daniel would be seen leaving the bridge together.

“You can’t wait to get rid of us, can you?” May teased.

“Maybe,” she snickered. “At least I’ll spare him from the if-you-ever-hurt-her threats from you guys.”

“Mack already beat us to it,” May gave her an amused smile.

“Oh God,” Daisy facepalmed.

“While you were on the way to save Simmons and Deke,” the older spy added mischievously.

“What?! But that was a week ago… Oh,” she sighed when she realized that Mack was very quick to do it after she told him about the time loop kiss. But she wasn’t even sure what to do about it back then. Or was she? Why everyone around her seems to know her better then she does? And more importantly - what else did he say to Daniel? She looked towards where both men stood, chatting over the grill.

“Uh, I should probably go check on what they are discussing now,” Daisy said and finished the rest of her beer.

“Go mingle. After all who knows when we get the chance to be together like this,” May smiled sadly and she, too, went to join the others.

Daisy watched her go for a short moment, set the empty bottle on a table, and walked over towards Daniel and Mack.

“Hey, guys. What do you have there? I’m starving.”

*******************************************************************************************

The team spent the rest of the evening and the beginning of the night by sharing their memories, laughing and teasing each other. They remembered their fallen friends and maybe even cried a little. Nobody wanted to be the first to leave. They all knew that when they do leave, it will be the end of their journey as a team. Eventually, Fitz and Simmons decided to go first since their daughter was already sleeping curled up in Jemma’s lap. Fitz said his goodbyes and took still sleeping Diana into the car.

“You know, this isn’t a goodbye,” Jemma told Daisy with shaking voice, tears running down her cheeks. “It’s see you soon.”

“I know,” Daisy sniffled and wrapped her best friend, no, her sister, in a bear hug.

“It would be lovely if we lived close to each other. Diana needs her auntie Daisy,” Jemma mumbled into her shoulder.

“Yeah. That would be great,” Daisy smiled through tears. “I am so happy for you, Simmons. You have Fitz and Diana, your little family,” she moved her hands to Jemma’s shoulders to look her in the eyes. “I know you’ll be okay and that makes this all a little less painful. You won’t be alone.”

The scientist chuckled. “You won’t be alone either,” she said and looked sideways at Daniel, who hovered nearby watching over Daisy, to make her point.

Daisy let out a soft laugh.

“It’s so good to see you this happy again. So, what are you guys planning?” Jemma asked her with a grin.

Daisy shrugged. “I thought that maybe I can take him on a small trip to show him how the world changed. After that…,” she sighed, “I honestly don’t know. I guess we both need to find out where we belong in this new timeline.”

“You’ll figure it out. Together. I’m sure of it,” Jemma told her comfortingly and hugged her again. “I love you, Daisy.”

“I love you too, Jemma.”

After Fitz-Simmons departed, the others left one or two at a time. Mack and Yo-yo were the last ones, leaving almost in the morning hours. Coulson decided to go with them, which really surprised Daisy since the possibility of him leaving too didn’t cross her mind. But as he said, every one of them needs to find a place in this new world and he is not an exception. He assured her he won’t be gone for long.

“It’s just a trip,” he said. “And take care of each other,” he added over his shoulder as he was walking down the ramp.

She stood there, looking after them until she could no longer see the lights of the car. Just like that, they were all gone.

A fresh morning breeze played with her hair. Daisy shuddered. She has heard Daniel walking down the ramp before he put a jacket around her shoulders. She didn’t even realize he went inside to grab it for her.

“Thank you.” She wiped at her tear-streaked cheeks and smiled, not yet looking at him.

“It’s nothing, but you are welcome,” he replied as he stood next to her.

He was so close she could feel the warmth of his shoulder on her own. She could feel the vibrations of his heartbeat. Her hand brushed against his and he took hold of it, their fingers intertwining. That touch grounded her in the moment and place. It assured her that she is not alone. Daisy let out a long content sigh. She knew that now was her time. They were finally alone.

“I need to tell-” she turned to face him but was cut off midsentence after Daniel crossed those few inches between them and pulled her in for a soft kiss. It was short but it caught her off guard. His right hand was still holding hers and his left cupped her cheek. She briefly opened her eyes to look into his and she thought she’s going to drown in that dark chocolate. Whatever she wanted to say was long lost with only one thought on her mind. Daisy leaned in and kissed him back, both her hands grabbing at the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, while his arms snaked around her waist. This kiss was different than the previous one. It was like finally getting a glass of water after dying of thirst in a desert. It was urgent and it left them both breathless. They remained close afterward, trying to catch their breaths. Daisy was beaming and Daniel was looking at her like she was the most precious beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“That was much nicer than our first kiss,” she told him quietly with a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Daniel frowned in confusion. “This was our first kiss.”

“Hmm, not for me,” she hummed, moving her right hand from his neck to his chest. She could see the moment when it hit him.

“The time loops. You kissed me in the time loops,” he said with a light chuckle and shook his head in disbelief.

“Why do you think it was me?” She asked with a gasp and smiled at him teasingly.

“And am I wrong?” He smirked smugly while he stroked her back.

It sent shivers down her spine and she had to force herself to concentrate. “Nope. But you, Mr. Sousa, kissed me back,” Daisy disclosed and pinched him in the chest.

“Hmm, that’s not fair. I don’t remember that,” he gave her a sad look.

“I can make you remember,” she whispered as she caught his face in her hands and brought it down to hers to kiss him again, exactly like in the time loops. Daniel responded to her kiss by pulling her even closer. One hand cupped his cheek and the other sneaked around his neck. She pulled away too soon for his liking.

“It was like this,” she whispered, her hands dropping to his chest.

“Nice,” he smiled. “But short.”

“Oh! So, that was too short for you, huh? We were plummeting towards certain death and needed to trap Enoch,” she told him exasperatedly. “You, Danny-boy are lucky I found the time even for that short kiss.”

Daniel laughed and eventually, Daisy joined in.

“You were so cute. With that soft expression on your face after the kiss. It took everything within me to stop myself from kissing you again,” she admitted while playing with a button on his shirt.

“Were you going to tell me about it?” He wondered.

“I was about to tell you before you kissed me, so…” Daisy shrugged and smiled at him sweetly.

“Hmm, I can do that again,” Daniel offered and his eyes darkened a bit.

“Yes, please,” she breathed.

*******************************************************************************************

Daisy and Daniel were sitting on the cargo bay ramp which gave them a nice view of the horizon. They weren’t really that tired and neither wanted to move from that spot after they exchanged a few more kisses. They sat down and Daisy cuddled into his side. It’s been so long that she watched a sunrise. A start of a new day. The beginning of something new.

“We can’t live on a plane,” Daniel said thoughtfully. “We need a proper place to call home.”

Daisy smiled and slowly looked at him, her eyes roaming over every small detail of his face lighted by the rising sun. His features were relaxed and peaceful. She wanted to imprint this face into her memory to keep it forever.

The words ‘we’ and ‘us’ and the meaning they held used to freak her out. But with Daniel, it’s somehow different. She is not scared of them, on the contrary, hearing them warms her heart. She sighed.

“What?” He asked her, a questioning smile playing on his lips as his eyes melted into hers.

Daisy leaned in and planted a short but sweet peck on his lips. Then she pushed herself back to look at him again, enjoying the soft almost dazed expression on his face.

“I like the sound of that,” she said in a low voice, giving him a lopsided grin.

“Sound of what?”

“Home.”

How am I gonna live my life without this TV show? Without Dousy? I guess we are all gonna meet here to scream after the finale, so see you then! I’ll have to wait until Thursday evening, though.

[borkthemork]

Here are some deleted scenes from Falling Down Dry, enjoy!

----- [CHAPTER FIVE]

If the king really did have that much faith in her, then why would Marcy say no? The whole term didn't sound bad. If guard training had anything to go by, it sounded like a school — a school full of not only organized turntables and schedules but the potential to learn how a sword works in actual combat — and when it came to school Marcy knew how to balance her time well.

Whatever happened, she needed to think smarter, not harder.

"The training toward the role of guard is a perilous and back-breaking commitment, Miss Wu," Lady Olivia explained. As they past an intersection, it became clear to Marcy that the guards that accompanied them were getting tensed with each second. "Best for you to be careful, and make friends to guarantee your safety."

Marcy cocked her head. "Have you been here before, Lady Olivia?"

Lady Olivia stared at her, perturbed.

"It's just that you seem to know about this place in a lot more detail than I expected," Marcy said. Was it alright to ask that question? Lady Olivia did seem the kind to remain secretive, or at least unappreciative of people meddling in her business. Marcy relented nonetheless. "Not like you have to tell me, just curious."

Lady Olivia watched her from the corner of her eye. "I have visited the barracks numerous times in my youth."

"Out of curiosity for the soldiers?" 

Their feet traveled the paths until eventually, they stopped at the administration's door.

"One can say that," Lady Olivia finally said, before she beckoned Marcy to the opened door.

At the administration office, Marcy listened and watched Lady Olivia as she talked to the head newt behind the desk. There were exchanged politics, talk of Marcy's species, at how her head tuckered low due to the barracks ceiling, and then a familiar set of questions about training, intermediate work.

-----[CHAPTER SIX]

"Understandable. It's not usual to be dropped into an alien world. From what you've told me, Earth sounds more foreign to any frog. newt, and toad in a hundred-mile radius; it makes sense for the reverse to be similar."

"Well, yeah. Back on Earth we had machines that can do math, and can basically teleport us to anywhere on the globe if we got the money for it. Although, I can say one thing. Your economy is a lot more forgiving."

Andrias arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You know how Newtopia is into the exchange of coppers?"

"Yes. Go on?"

"Well back home, they're basically useless. Three hundred coppers here can mean a whole life supply of beetle burgers, but for us that's enough to get us a pack of bubblegum."

"I don't see the problem here. Bubblegum is a serious industry in the city." When Marcy stared, he could only snort. "Just kidding. Very much kidding."

-----[CHAPTER THREE]

She had been lead down numerous roads. So many roads that Marcy had no clue where she first started walking off to and where she was currently in the city. Didn't help that the city was a massive place, and that the denizens around her stared as if she was a fish out of water — but that could be with the fact she was a legit fish out of water but they didn't have to worry about.

The newt general who escorted her — Yunan, if she could recall — had taken the time to lecture along the way of her military exploits. 

That wasn't bad. Actually the idea of a newt general telling battles from the sand wars out in some desert area to the fact she was the youngest newt out there to conquer the ranks of the military was the most exciting parts to learn about this world.

She didn't need to worry about handcuffs too. From what Yunan told her, with the pound of her chestplate and the huffed from her chest, was that she didn't need to worry of Marcy running. And even if she did, she wouldn't get far. Which was the coolest and most terrifying thing to ever be told to her if she wanted to be honest.

Eventually the surroundings turned to higher elevation. The more she peaked at the horizon, she spotted the cool glimmer of the moon amid the tides that Marcy always suspected. The iridescent waters, the crisp brine air, the glimmering lights of the sleepy town city — an absolute delight to look at, made her lose her breath by just the sight of it.

"No stalling, creature." Yunan shoved her forward. "Sightseeing isn't going to save you under King Andrias's scrutiny."

"Well, that's a bit of a bummer," she mused. 

After all, the sight of Newtopia looked absolutely lovely to look at, even more so than the lookout points Marcy liked to go to in the outer areas of Los Angeles. Something about this place reeked of nostalgic. Perhaps it was because the whole place screamed of fantasy aesthetic or that there were too many questions to shove into her darn brain. Those were all possibilities.

For now, however, Marcy just a little happy walk, climbing up the spiraling roads while the newt groaned behind her.

"Stop that! This is no happy matter!"

Marcy smiled and ceased her fidgeting. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just so excited. You have no idea."

"Yes, I do not have a single clue as to why you're like this," Yunan huffed. She kept puffing out her chest, seeming to try to catch the glimpse of the armour's metal in the moonlight. Not a bad look too. "You're supposed to be shriveling up in fear, especially under my presence."

"I don't know, dude. I mean you're a really high-class authority when it comes to this society, and I think that's really neat that you're so loyal to the king like this." Marcy meant it all too. There was always something rad about a person who knew what they want and what they wanted, grabbing the opportunity rather than having it slip to the wayside. "Especially with your claws out. What type of metal is that?"

Yunan blinked at her. She chuckled momentarily, and sheathed the blades back into her gauntlets. "Well, well. You see here, my blades were gifted to me through trial by combat in the sand wars."

Marcy gasped. "No way!"

"It is all the way!" Yunan exclaimed. "Rivorn the Scornful wanted my head way back before I garnered my many medals. He harbored jealousy, malice, and wanted to trick me by having me battle unarmed."

"And you knocked him out of the park, didn't you?"

"I crushed him to death!"

"Yeah! Wait, metaphorically or—?"

Yunan continued however undeterred, brave tears shimmering in her eyes as she once again showed off her blades in a few open slashes. "In the end he gave me his gauntlets, and I'd entrusted my safety to them ever since."

"And," Yunan continued, "We have arrived."

[tonysttank]

Fine Line Series |b.b.| Part 1: Watermelon Sugar

I’m too excited about this story right now, so I’m posting part 1 on the same day. 

Constructive and/or general feedback is always welcome!

Summary: Sam Wilson’s adopted sister thought she finally had everything the way she wanted it after he left D.C. to help Captain America. Little did she know that her world was about to get turned upside down when she is forced to move out of the country for her own protection. But maybe living in this new place wouldn’t be so bad...

Word Count: 2.5k

The past two days had been hard to say the least. Between packing everything she owned and mourning the loss of the life she’d built in the last year, Y/N was a total mess. Sam and Steve had stopped by the day after she agreed to move to help her pack and to talk about the details of her flight and new living situation. Sam was here again today, her last day here, helping her pack up her kitchen. They only had a few hours before she needed to be ready to hop into some new age flight vessel Sam had called a “Quinjet.”

With only 45 minutes to spare, they finished packing every last fork and plate into boxes. Y/N insisted on taking a shower before they left, and Sam didn’t try to argue with her. He loaded up the last of the boxes in her now empty apartment into the van that Natasha had secured for them before taking them to the private airport where the Quinjet was waiting. By the time he returned from his errand, Y/N had finished her shower and was no longer a sweaty mess. Sam gave her a sympathetic look when he returned as he noticed her dawning her favorite jacket, one she only wore when she was having a particularly bad day. He hated all of this, but there was nothing he could do to change the situation he’d found himself in. Now, all he could do was keep his most important girl safe, like he had always done.

Y/N followed Sam out to the van so they could drive to the airport. Once they were on the road, Sam spoke up. “I’m really sorry about all of… this.” He said, the pause in his sentence giving away his regret and remorse. Y/N would be lying if she said that she wasn’t hurt by Sam’s actions, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to forgive him yet. Maybe it was her own issues that were keeping her from giving him the forgiveness that he desperately craved and needed from her, but she didn’t think so. He had wronged her, and the fact that he was the one person who truly knew her was what stung the most. Sam was well aware of the issues Y/N harbored about her mom abandoning her with her dick of a father, yet he left without a trace anyways. She would obviously always love her brother, but this was something that only time could heal. Love and trust go hand in hand… and Y/N wasn’t sure if she could trust Sam anymore.

The girl shrugged as she peered out the window. “I just didn’t understand. After all of the things we’ve been through I just couldn’t believe that you had left. No calls, no texts, no emails. I found out from Theresa, and you know I fucking hate Theresa.” Y/N sulked. Sam couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her expression of disdain for their old neighbor in D.C. “You were all over the news. Mom was worried sick, and I had nothing to tell her to make her feel better. Have you even talked to her, Sam?”

He sighed in response, glancing over at her with a look she couldn’t quite read plastered onto his face. “I know. Trust me, I know. You and Mom are all I’ve thought about since everything happened, and yes, I’ve talked to her.” He explained. “It all happened so fast, and I needed this, Y/N. You know I’ve struggled ever since what happened with Riley, and this gave me purpose again. I’m sorry for leaving you, and if I could have I would have come for you sooner. You have to understand that my life has changed forever, and there’s a lot of things that I have to tell you, but for now let me just right my wrong and keep you safe.”

Y/N took in his words with a frown. As much as she understood what he was saying, she wasn’t ready to hear it. She didn’t want to hear it. All her life she had depended on him, and he was her best friend, the one person that had always been hers. In her mind, it almost all seemed fake. Him leaving? She never would’ve pegged that on him in a million years. “Can we just talk about this another time, please?”

He nodded, and the rest of the ride to the airport was silent. The air was thick with sadness and tension. Sam understood that she would need time, and she didn’t even know the whole story. Y/N had every right to feel the way that she did and be upset with him, but that didn’t mean it hurt him any less to see her this way, especially knowing that all of it had been caused by his actions.

Steve met them at the airport since he was the main liaison between her and the Wakandan government. It had taken quite a bit of convincing on his and Sam’s part to get them to agree to house another one of their loved ones. The agreement was made based upon the good nature of T’Challa, and Y/N’s ability to help Shuri with one of her upcoming technical endeavors. The young genius certainly didn’t need Y/N’s help, but having someone with knowledge in the field they’d be exploring was always a plus.

“Nice to see you again, Y/N.” Steve greeted her with a smile at the end of the Quinjet’s boarding ramp. Y/N nodded and flashed him a friendly smile, though she really wanted nothing to do with the man. He was the starting point of her current misfortune. She stowed away her duffel bag that contained a few necessities and a spare change of clothes. Sam insisted, just in case anything went awry. Y/N sat in the back, while Sam and Steve occupied the cockpit. She was sure that Sam had no idea how to fly this monster of an aircraft, but she was grateful for the space he was giving her. The car ride to the airport was suffocating enough. It was quite a long journey to Wakanda, and Y/N grew more and more anxious about their arrival with every passing minute. She was practically vibrating with nervousness when they finally landed some 12 hours later. Under any other circumstances she’d be exhausted, but her spiked anxiety kept her more than awake.

Steve and Sam guided her off the aircraft, Sam insisting that he carry her duffel for her. The trio was greeted with quite a welcome crew, and Y/N was astonished to see King T’Challa when she stepped off the boarding ramp. “Captain, Samuel,” He greeted the two men. “I hope your travels were well.” Y/N stepped around from behind Sam, and bowed her head to T’Challa, unsure if she should bow or shake his hand or participate in some other royal greeting she was unaware of. The man smiled kindly at her. “Welcome to Wakanda, Miss Wilson. We are glad to have you here.”

Y/N smiled warmly back at the man, grateful for his kindness in such a stressful and overwhelming moment. “Thank you for having me here. My brother has spoken very highly of your country.” She told him, unsure of what else to say. The girl wasn’t particularly thrilled to be here in the first place, but it would be rude to tell him that, especially after his warm welcome. Y/N was actually surprised that he was here at all. Surely a King had better things to do than greet newcomers like her?

In all the commotion of the landing and departure of the Quinjet, Y/N hadn’t even noticed the grandeur of Wakanda. Until now, she had thought that it was a country based solely in deep rural African tradition and agriculture. While those things were certainly true, it was also clearly a very rich and highly technologically advanced country, probably filled with gadgets and technology she had never even heard of. It was quite the sight from the landing pad, and certainly a lot to take in. Y/N was quickly drawn from her moment of awe as the people around her started to move inside the building next to the landing pad. She walked quickly to catch back up with Sam and Steve before they stopped in the middle of a large transportation hangar. Y/N was about to ask a question when Steve and Sam’s faces both lit up, and she followed her gaze to what they were clearly excited to see.

“Buck!” Steve exclaimed happily, embracing the man that had approached them in a warm hug. He had brown shoulder length hair, and was the same massive size as Steve, if not even a little larger. When he pulled away from Steve’s embrace to shake Sam’s hand in greeting, Y/N also noticed that he only had one arm. Oh! It was like a lightbulb came on in her head. This was the infamous Bucky Barnes. Y/N had attempted to keep up with Sam’s “criminal” endeavors as much as she could through news stories, and a lot of those stories included this man. What was he doing here in Wakanda though?

Sam turned to Y/N and quickly drew her out of her whirlwind of internal questioning and game of connect the dots. “Bucky, this is my little sister, Y/N.” He told the blue eyed Adonis as he motioned to her. She gave a small smile and wave, unsure of how you greet a century old ex-assassin and super soldier.

Bucky hadn’t even noticed the girl standing next to Sam, being too excited and caught up in seeing his friends for the first time in months since he’d been back out of cryo. It was cliché, sure, but what else could Bucky expect from his life? He was awestruck at how beautiful the woman was, and any words he tried to form dried up on his tongue, especially after the sweet smile she flashed his way. This was the girl he was supposed to look out for? If he had known that he was going to feel like this upon just laying eyes on her, he may have reconsidered his agreement with Sam. Maybe the old Bucky from Brooklyn would’ve been able to woo her on the spot, but this Bucky, the one standing in front of her right now, was shaking in his boots. Not that she even had a clue of his current lack of confidence, she’d never met the old Bucky, but he knew the old Bucky and that was enough to let his insecurities bubble up to the surface within a matter of seconds.

He reached out his hand for her to shake. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He said, flashing her a smile and praying his nervousness didn’t show through it, if his sweaty palm didn’t give it away already.

           “Nice to meet you too.” She smiled back at him, this one full and genuine. His hand was warm and rough, but she liked the feeling. Y/N was unable to pull her gaze away from his for maybe a second too long, and both of them whipped their heads in Sam’s direction when he cleared his throat. Sam flashed Bucky a look of warning that Y/N didn’t quite catch before he directed his attention back to her.

“Let’s go get you set up in your apartment, yeah?” He suggested, adjusting her duffel on his shoulder as he spoke. Y/N agreed and waved to Steve and Bucky as she was led away by Sam, who was mumbling something under his breath.

           “What? Did you say something?” She asked, trotting up next to him before they climbed into a car.

“No, didn’t say anything.” He smiled at her, even though he definitely had said something along the lines of Tinman better keep his damn single hand off of her.

~~~

“Geez, Steve,” Bucky began as they approached his small farming hut. “You couldn’t give a guy a warning?”

Steve looked at Bucky with an amused smile. “What are you talking about, Buck?” The man asked, playing dumb. Steve was very much aware of what Bucky was referring to.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You know damn well what I’m talking about, punk. Bringing a girl like that around here…”

The blonde gave out a hearty laugh as they entered Bucky’s home. “She’s a nice girl, doesn’t like me very much, but she’s really, really great.”

“Doesn’t like you, huh? Beautiful and smart? No way that dame is related to Birdboy.”

Steve faked a laugh at Bucky’s playful jab. “You guys will get along great. She’s gonna be building you a new arm anyways.” He said, taking a seat on one of the chairs that resided in the corner with the small dining table.

Bucky looked up from the bit of string hanging off his shirt that he’d been fiddling with. “She’s what? I was just supposed to keep an eye on her from afar… I- I can’t be around her all day… Especially when she’s messing with my shoulder, Steve.” The brunette said, panic clear in his voice. Steve knew it was going to be an issue. He knew Bucky, and wasn’t at all surprised by the attraction he was showing towards Y/N. Even when they were kids back in the 30’s, Bucky was always scared to talk to the girls he like, though it may have never seemed that way to the girls. Steve was always getting an earful about his newest crush for weeks before he finally got the guts to ask her on a date. It was understandable that Bucky would be nervous about anyone becoming so familiar with his shoulder, his biggest insecurity. Throw in the fact that she’s a stranger and that Bucky had already basically fallen in love at first sight, which he’d always thought was bullshit till about an hour ago, and it was a recipe for a panic attack.

Steve nodded, moving to place a hand on his best friend’s good shoulder. “Relax, man. I promise that it’ll be okay. She literally has a degree to make prosthetic limbs. Your shoulder won’t be anything she hasn’t seen before, and she’s not going to judge you for it. You guys will get along perfectly. I know you will.” He said in an attempt at calming Bucky down. It may be useless at this point, but Steve just had a feeling about the two of them. Maybe they weren’t destined to be soulmates or anything, but he knew Bucky well enough and had heard Sam talk about Y/N enough to know that they needed each other right now. Whatever they chose to be was their own decision, but Steve was just trying to give his best friend any support he could during a time that he couldn’t be around.

Bucky gave Steve a wary look, and Steve only smiled and response, which earned him a punch to the shoulder. “You think you’re funny playing match maker and shit. Just wait till I tell Sam what your devious little plan is.”

“Aw, you wouldn’t.” Steve said, his words half laughter and slight bit of concern. He’d be dead if Sam found out that Steve was basically trying to play match maker with their best friend and his little sister. Was he breaking guy code? Probably. He didn’t really care though.

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 48 – Much More Dangerous Than They Had Envisioned

“Welcome.”

The doctor greeted Tao and M-21 as soon as their shoes tapped past KSA’s front door.

The two men were donned in their signature black suit, the uniform of school guards and RK.

Yet unlike before, their shoulders were heavy with frigid atmosphere oh-so-visible-and-tangible.

The doctor felt nothing, although the situation was more than enough to make him feel disappointed that they are being icy to him.

He knew he was in no position to throw such emotional tantrum.

As for Tao and M-21, they could see.

They could see from the doctor’s superficially well-mannered attitude that he was very inclined to greet them with Taesik as well but could not.

It is late night, with most personnel of KSA back at home. However, words will surely spread once even a single soul spots how both KSA’s director and doctor are groveling at someone at the door, and it would be only a matter of time until every soul figures out that something is going on in their nest.

As much as they are ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-percent sure what the circumstances are all about, they did not want the lesser people to find out before the remaining 0.01% is completely mapped.

Also, in consideration of the weight of the circumstances, it was only natural for them to remain cautious until the very last moment.

“Would you like to go there now...?”

Usually he would have been referring to the director’s office. But this time he meant otherwise, and they did not need to exchange words to know that.

The purpose of Tao and M-21’s visit lay in Yuhyung’s lab.

Tao insisted they search the place before its owner returns to Korea, which gave them only a night to carry out the task.

For that reason the doctor did not wait for their response, although he did ask for it.

Which is why the waiting time inside the ascending elevator could not possibly be more awkward and stifling.

Which was only natural for the doctor to try to let in some air to the murky atmosphere expected only at the runway towards the battlefield.

“Uh... By the way, is there something up with Mr. Takio?”

M-21 started upon the name of his teammate, and Tao followed suit by rolling his eyes in a curious fashion.

Takio was tending to his duty outside during the time they were unveiling most of Yuhyung’s secret at company of Lunark.

When they decided they should head to KSA, he did not hesitate to volunteer as well.

To their concern and puzzlement, he was nowhere to be seen, but they could not afford to wait for him.

At last they made it to Yuhyung’s lab, enclosed by a new alloy door that replaced the one that Yeonsu stomped on.

The doctor unlocked the room with his employee key card, and Tao and M-21 held their breath as they directed their scrutinizing gaze into the dark lab.

Overall, it was basically a replica of the scenes the two men had familiarized themselves with during their times at Union.

But of course, there was a difference in size and magnificence, probably because of difference in resources.

Soon enough their hands got busy as they committed themselves in heated search through desks, drawers, and bookshelves for what they could spy with their eyes.

Which did not surrender anything, to nobody’s surprise.

“Yes, this happens to be an official research content we are running at the moment.”

They wasted their time asking for doctor’s confirmation with the documents, graphs, and printed screenshots they could pick up, to ultimately return them to their original places.

Naturally their eyes were drawn to the computer in slumber.

“Do you think he left something if anything in there? Based on the series of testaments, he may be a hopeless clown in daily life, but even you admit that he is no ordinary person when it comes to research.”

“He must have. Computer-friendly’s that practically treat computers as equal to their flesh and bones – yes, the sort like me – tend to leave in one way or another the most important data inside their computers. Partially because our pride depends on how well we build the firewalls and vaccine programs against potential thefts or leaks.”

Tao quoted with a voice close to desperation than confidence.

After he pushed the button to awaken the computer, they came to think that perhaps Yuhyung added a feature that automatically detonates his computer when it is turned on during his absence.

Which is why for the 3 seconds of waiting their heads whirred with thousands of scenarios, of which none was brought into reality, to their mild astonishment.

Notwithstanding, the very first screen that welcomed them froze them in their shoes.

“Password...?”

They could not understand how they could forget.

Even outside the industry of espionage or secret intelligence, in modern world personal information is held as valuable as a common gold mine, and it is only customary for people to lock their computers with personal passwords.

The fact that they were staring at none other than Yuhyung’s computer fanned their anxiety.

“...I think I’ve seen the similar kit at Union. No, this isn’t a repertoire exclusive to the Union. You know, the data are all blown up if anything other than the set password is input.”

M-21 diverted his enlightenment-seeking eyes towards Tao.

“I can dissect this thing if I want to. But in the meantime, he might receive an automated notification on the infiltration attempt on his ser...”

“Excuse me. One moment.”

The doctor finally broke his silence to step in.

Without even glancing at Tao, who was shoved to the side before he knew it, the doctor typed in three letters strange to Tao’s and M-21’s eyes.

The monitor blinked to give way to the screen plastered with a variety of icons, to Tao’s delight.

“How did you know what the password is?”

“...I chose the name of the colleague who used to be closest to Yuhyung. He was sacrificed during massive city destruction, the inception of Yuhyung’s dark ambition.”

The atmosphere sunk into the dark faster than light, and Tao warmed up the joints of his fingers and in less than a breath opened the file Yuhyung had most frequently rummaged.

“What in the...?!”

Tao moaned, skimming and comprehension over as anticipated from an expert, and the doctor and M-21 madly wiped the monitor with their eyes, to not long after unhinge their jaws in mimicry of Tao’s expression.

“...Why don’t we talk to the director now? I don’t think this is something we can handle by ourselves.”

“...Very well. This way.”

The three humans trotted across the hallway, their movements so swift and forceful that anybody could have seen that nothing could stop them.

They soon came face-to-face with Taesik, his facial profile petrified to maximum due to the fact that they entered before the sound of their knocks was completely gone.

“So, what did you find?”

Prior to their visit, he was already notified of the contents they deduced with Lunark.

And of course, his mind fried by utmost fluster, he appealed how much he did not want to believe them.

Which did not last long, given that they were from the RK and Lunark herself.

Nevertheless, it was obvious he could not throw away the last glimmer of hope, made so very pronounced by his fingers clutching the edge of his desk like a falcon, gaze precariously ghosting over their faces, and body crooked forward like a hunchback.

Feeling slightly guilty at how he must totally annihilate his meaningless hopes, Tao unzipped his lips for the testimony.

“Please listen carefully, sir. I am terribly sorry to say this, but... It looks like Mr. Jang has been in secret alliance with the Union.”

At then Tao and M-21 got to learn how a rapid cancer patient diagnosed with less than a day to survive would appear, seemingly every shadow and shade in the universe transported onto his face, his lips abruptly stupefied and unable to demand if they can swear.

The doctor, who had also seen through the change with his boss, added with a voice barely free from a quake.

“It’s true, sir. It’s more than a presumption. We just found from his computer contents available only once one comes in contact with the Union.”

“I-is that true? Just what did you find...?”

“We already heard from Ms. Lunark what Mr. Jang had gone through during destruction of Seoul. And this ideology he has come to harbor ever since.”

Taesik gave a tense nod, reminded of Yuhyung’s idea of mandatory body modification for all incoming agents, which never fail to give chills to every piece of his spine whenever his memories are refreshed.

“And Mr. Jang had not aborted his idea. He’s been proceeding with a secret study, based on his major and his specialty in KSA, with help from the data from Union.”

“S-so... What is this data from the Union...?”

“Simply put, it’s... It’s rapid body modification. Or should I say, rapid pseudo-body modification?”

“What do you mean...?”

“As you’d know, the amount of resources required for body modification is beyond any human imagination. Especially time. Even perfectly modified humans would often take time to stay under observations or experiments or sign up for multiple modifications. Personally, I’d say time is the most essential resource in body modification.”

Taesik kept attendance to Tao’s words, his countenance full of inquiries.

“Which is why Union in the past studied a way to shorten the amount of time needed for body modification. It happened before I found myself at the Union. And before the M-series project, of which M-21 was part. The Union wanted to find a way to induce rapid physical changes that will temporarily yield power somewhat reminiscent of those from modified humans prepared from lab tables and tanks.”

“Is it safe to assume it’s a mechanism related to how DA-5 used to enhance physical qualities with pills?”

“Precisely. In fact, D that DA-5 used to ingest is what Aris refined from this project after it was canceled. I figured it out while hacking Union’s past data for fun. The purpose of this project was to provide weapon for humans whose bodies are clean from modifications to exercise superhuman power, no matter how small.”

“Listening to you, there’s no doubt it’s a useful technique. But is there a reason why this project was canceled?”

“As Union agents formed this unofficial caste system among them that separated the modified from the unmodified, voices against blessing ordinary humans with powers of modified humans became dominant. Not to mention how causing physical changes begotten solely through body modification on unmodified humans as well was extremely unstable and full of side effects. So it was only logical for the researchers to shred and burn their papers and charts. No one before Aris managed to see the light in this study.”

“...I see. That reminds me of this gas that Mr. Jang had once been developing.”

Tao, M-21, and the doctor flinched as soon as Taesik nodded and quoted.

“...Actually, we have something to tell you regarding that weapon.”

“We found traces that prove he had been handling the file on that weapon until the moment he left for Lukedonia. And we found traces of edit and copy from the files on research on implanting artificial bodies with artificial intelligence.”

Taesik’s face turned pale, other faces just as pallid.

A Union study that sought a way to imbue unmodified humans with powers on par with those of the least qualified modified humans.

A study on a weapon that will work only on designated targets, from none other than a person who advocated obligatory body modification for prospective KSA agents.

The data on the former was discovered inside the computer that belongs to a person who pursued the latter.

To top it off, Yuhyung’s research files on artificial intelligence was edited and copied, when they all remember that Rael and werewolves had violent contact with Union weapons against heads of clans.

So there was no more reason for them to stick to suspicions.

“If only I had examined his USB... It turned out that the reason why QuadraNet failed to come to life lay in Mr. Jang’s USB, which was revealed to be the secret USB once used by the Union. There was network hacking program hidden inside, and I’m sure he planted the program himself as he was working at Lukedonia and the werewolf realm. A secret USB can bypass most of vaccine programs utilized nowadays because it’s too outdated. Though it’s partly because I trusted him too much and deemed usual check-up useless.”

“It’s not your fault, sir. We should have been more careful with...”

Nothing will change even if they exchange apologies and forgiveness; the best they can do right now is to prevent something that might happen very soon.

With conclusion drawn in gloomy acceptance, Taesik bobbed his head.

“Can you get him now?”

“We should. We must.”

“We’ll be counting on you two.”

Just like that, Tao and M-21 turned on their heels, to catch the man who turned out to be much more dangerous than they had envisioned.

*****

As KSA was staging a moment as fatal and vicious as the moment a bomb is about to fall onto ice, Yuhyung finally made it.

Once again riding Rael’s back in a comical way, his face however was not at all comical.

His shaking hand was grasping his personal device that was playing the footage sent from his lab, equipped with cameras that had been working just a minute ago.

(next chapter)

The rapid pseudo-body modification is my creation, of course. But I’d say it wouldn’t be strange to find out Union actually had such technology, given that DA-5 could enhance their physical capabilities by ingesting the D. Actually, I had forgotten about the DA-5 when I began composing this chapter, and I remembered what DA-5 could do in the middle of my composition lol. Anyways, now the RK know, and Yuhyung knows as well. All that’s left is for them to capture and pummel the cause of all this, but as you’d know, it won’t be easy. Yes, I’m saying the RK and their allies would have a really hard time following this chapter. Sorry, my beloved characters. :’(  I hope you’d stay tuned for more!

[phenomenal1500]

The Blood In My Veins | Black Sails

Chapter 63: The Ludicrous Plan

For Chapter 62: The Deciding Destination click here.

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

"No. Perhaps. God, what I meant was.... there is always a plan b, somewhere, so don't worry, we'll find a way if this won't work."

"Naida, I appreciate your optimism, but I think the bottom line is that we are already carrying out plan Z. This is it. This is where the world decides if Nassau will be free and handed to us or if it will die at the hands of Woodes Rogers."

~~~

Hopeful, but yet freezing, Jack and I roamed back to the docks and I took Charles' hand which he had offered to me to get me back on the ship before Jack.

Charles had waited outside the whole time until his dearest friend and I made our return and I detected it because of his blue colored lips and the warmth his hand had lost. Max stood alongside Charles and didn't even give us a minute to rest or warm up before firing questions our way.

"What happened with Mr. Guthrie?" She interrogated us with her thick French accent, though, my brains had stopped working and the comfort I felt rushing over me when Charles' hands made their way underneath my shirt and, with time, regained their warmth on my bare stomach made me not even care about answering her anymore. "Were you able to speak with him?"

"Mm-hmm." Jack was only able to hum owing to the fact that his lips were no longer capable of forming words.

"What did he say?"

"He told me to go fuck myself." Charles snuggled his face into the crook of my neck, leaving small, gentle kisses before trailing up to kiss me on my lips.

"Well, that does not sound good." Max struggled to find her words and Jack finally turned around, putting a hold on his cold staggering.

"The business isn't his." He confirmed and sat down onto an old barrel who could snap any moment if it wasn't this frozen. "Well, the horses are his, the cart is his, but it appears the wife is the one holding the reins." Jack sniffed because of a starting cold.

"Eleanor's grandmother?"

"And she is interested." Charles suddenly looked up. He didn't stop cherishing me, nor did he stop planting kisses on my hair and shoulders, but he did pay full attention to the chat that was in progress in front of us and furrowed his eyebrows as I could feel his chest pressing up against my back. A sign of him feeling confident. "She invited me to return this evening to provide details of our proposal. Prove that we can be trusted to manage Nassau in the event of Rogers' removal. And I think you should come with me." Jack rested his gaze on Max and Featherstone joined us too, shaking his head slowly towards Jack, hoping only Jack had seen him.

"You do?" Max inhaled for a moment. "Why?"

"Because our plan is ludicrous by any sane measure and my suspicion is if she's going to say yes, it's going to be for emotional reasons rather than financial ones. She would look across the table and see a woman with some experience quietly wielding power over men without them knowing it, and a woman who might remind her of herself. It might go a long way towards winning her."

"What about Naida? Perhaps she is a better option for our ludicrous plan." Max declared, trying to show some generosity even though she actually wanted this badly. She wanted to prove her worth again and she was given that chance.... whatever reason Jack had for giving her that opportunity so I didn't know why she declined it.

"Naida, first of all, is still expecting and I can understand if she and Charles want to spend some time together. Second of all.... She is a known pirate. If that bounty still rests on her head and when she has to introduce herself and her name echoes through the streets, Mrs. Guthrie won't see Naida as a rich madame who is anything like Mrs. Guthrie herself." Jack pointed out as he talked with weird hand gestures and it made me smile.

Jack always had been a little uncoordinated and awkward even though he was one of the smartest and persuasive people I knew in this world and those little habits made him him.

It was also pretty funny and interesting to witness.

"Finally." I could hear the sound of his deep voice bounce through my ears. "Finally.... some time with my woman." I chuckled as he pleasantly bit on my bare neck, leaving a small mark and Charles exhaled deeply, his hot breath brushing over my soft skin.

Of course Featherstone had to survey the intimate moment and I smiled awkwardly. Always when Charles and I did something intimate in public, which wasn't that common, he was the one to notice it first and he was the one to gaze at us in revolt.

"Mind to continue these activities somewhere more private?" I requested and I could feel his hands move, going from my stomach to my hips to let them rest there.

"Of course not, little one." It was unbelievably clear to me that Charles had some sort of 'gentle' lust in his eyes when I had shared a look with him and slowly everyone had already spread out to follow their own paths. Jack and Max had to leave to get ready for tonight's appointment, Featherstone had to instruct a few more men on deck who had done something wrong and Charles and I made our way to a rented room under Rackham's name. The property was not far from the harbor where we were anchored and we could arrive unseen.

It didn't take long before we checked in and I locked the door behind us.

Turning myself around so I could examine the room, I was secretly expecting Charles to push me against the wall.

Strangely, that wasn't the case because when I rotated myself, he sat on the edge of the large fur bed and stared at the large picture hanging on the wall.

It represented a gigantic ship with thirteen white sails that won from the high waves that the sea brought with her to try and swallow the ship.

Dark colors had been used to paint it and the piece of art was encased in gold. It spoke up to me. It somehow reminded me of what had happened these last few weeks. Nassau conquered by the English, Charles who managed to outrun his death, us now seeking aid from the bitch her grandparents in Philadelphia. All to preserve Nassau and save our generation of pirates.

The ship represented us, pirates, and the deadly waves were the dark times that had rested on us, but no matter what, we'll always stay alive because even if there is just a little wooden plank left, it will float and it will strand.

In silence I sat down next to him and wrapped my arms around his waist so that my head could rest against his shoulder.

"It's a rough time, but we'll get through it." I tenderly whispered while the both of us now stared at the painting, him wrapping an arm around my lower back.

"I should be the one telling you that." Charles had let out a small laugh and I chuckled with him. Then I slowly shook my head, disagreeing with him. It was my time to comfort him, not the other way around.

"I don't agree with ya."

"And why's that?" He moved his head back a little so he could watch me in his arms and raised an eyebrow.... something which he did that I loved so much.

"Because love should come from both sides." I responded and shifted my body so I was straddled on top of his lap. "And we are finally alone.... in weeks! Weeks, Charles."

It had indeed been weeks ago since we were alone and we both had suppressed some urgent feelings.

"I know, sweetheart.... so why not put us both out of this misery and strip for me."

~~~

I had put on a long sweater to keep myself warm as I leaned against the soft headboard with Charles refreshing himself, splashing some clean water in his face. Gosh, Jack did go full luxury with this room. It was massive and had different blue shades coloring the walls and floor. The only downside was that a cold breeze filled the room, but until now I wasn't really bothered by it.

I glanced up at Charles' bare torso and I knew he felt my gaze on him when I saw him smirking, but what else did he expect? He had left the door wide open leading to the bathroom while he was located inside of it before the mirror.... with no shirt on.

I had nothing else to stare at.

"You think Jack and Max can pull it off?" He spoke up as he secured half of his hair into a tail while letting the rest hang loosely.

"Let's just hope they can." I sighed, pushing myself up with the thought of doing my hair as well. I approached the bathroom and took my time to walk inside. "Want me to braid it for you?" I chuckled as Charles jerked his head back, nodding.

Never did I think he would let me do his hair, but now he gave me actual permission.

He sat down onto the bath edge and I shook my head, knowing he did so to mock my height. I took a few thin strings between my fingers and started braiding small braids in his hair. An hour had passed and laughs and flirts had filled them before we suddenly heard horrible loud knocks on the door.

"Shit."

"Hide in the bathroom, Naida." I began to stress and didn't want to concern Charles even more than he already was so I did as I was told until a voice came from behind the door.

"CHARLES! NAIDA!?" Relief washed over me as it was Jack who pounded on the heavy door.

"Goddammit, Jack!" Charles growled as he opened the door, pulling his friend inside to quickly lock the door afterwards.

"Sorry to disturb-...."

"Disturb? You scared the shit out of us." I corrected and pulled my sweater tighter around my body because of the coldness that had entered the room, coming from the hallway.

"Sorry, but I have some news." He pointed to the bed and hoped for us to get the gesture and sit down, but neither of us understood him. "Please take a seat. With the help of Max's financial ledgers and feminine wiles, we convinced Mrs. Guthrie this evening to cooperate and to work with us.... but there is a catch. I must kill Flint...."

"YOU MUST WHAT?!" I shouted.

I didn't want to lose my temper, but sadly there was no control over my emotions anymore. Well, I didn't have control anymore, something else had.

"Naida, just hear me out, I kno-...." Jack tried to continue the conversation and tried to calm me down, but I had cut him off.

In the corner of my eye I could see Charles switching positions today , standing alongside Jack now as he wanted to let me burn out for a second.

"He's my fucking father figure and you want to end his life?!" I yelled and I could feel the strong arms of Charles wrapping around me, embracing me tightly.

One of his hands slowly stroked my hair downwards and the other one rubbed in circles on my lower back.

Rage had filled me and I struggled to surrender to his comfort.

Flint.

Jack had to kill Flint...?

For fuck sake, calm down.

"I.... I can't stop the rage. I'm sorry." I apologized before finally giving in and burying my head into the crook of his neck, closing my arms around Charles.

"It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything."

~~~

After the incident I started because I suddenly broke by the news, I apologized to Jack and we now were standing on the dock, waving him goodbye. Jack's plan was to return to Nassau, find out where Flint was going, and execute him. My heart dropped at that thought, but somehow there was some kind of truth in what Charles and Jack had discussed when I tried to fall asleep on Charles' lap to calm down; Flint is the only man who will continue the never-ending circle of violence in Nassau and it had to be stopped.

[femalechibiblogger]

Night in the Woods Fanfictions

Bleachers by perrythedeer

Red shapes. All over the grass

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21847180

Autumn Crimes by Beatrice_Sank

Post-canon, set a year after the game's events. It's Halloween again, well, Halmostween, Gregg is visiting from Bright Harbor and planning for some seasonal crimes, while Mae reflects on what has changed, and what remains. A trick or treat adventure (spiced with a weirdly political twist, blame Bea) takes them all around Possum Springs, as relationships are discussed, the concept of growing up is questioned, and felonies are committed. It's time to look back, to begin to look forward. And what better way to do that than by dressing up as the scariest thing you know?

“We’ve got to send a message, yeah? Let them know we don’t wanna depend on private candy investments. That we want candies fairly distributed to all tricksters, whatever their age. That no one want to be left with the last expired Reese in the bag. That shit gives you allergies.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162179/chapters/50368532

Love in the Harbor by StarMaverick

It's hard to get used to moving away from your old home. Especially when he lived in Possum Spring since the day he was born. But lucky for Danny, he had a certain vixen that can help him overcome it. (Waring for Mature-ish contest)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21289778?view_adult=true

Selmers Crunchy Leaves by SaintRose

A poem for the fall because this time of the year can be hard for recovery. But, that's the good thing about writing.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227309

Fireflies on the porch by goldendeer (thebandsvisit)

There’s a lot of things that Bea wants. Things that she can’t really articulate or make sense of.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21131204

The Long Fall by eccorando1407

Painful memories from Mae's torment at college catch up to her as she struggles to cope with her entire world crashing down on her...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20170513/chapters/47788801

Drinking with You by Metal_Gear_Steve

Garbo takes his main squeeze out on a date. A lovely lady who he's gotten to know over a long time, but who he's only just met.

A sweet coming-out story starring Night In The Woods' premier comedic duo. Credit goes to Tumblr user Sleufoot for the idea - details in the notes.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19967368

Mae or May Not by h0ld3n

Mae comes over late at night to discuss something important with Bea.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786867

Packing up by eyesabovethetrees

Mae is anxious about her friends moving away.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18901774

Home Again by orphan_account

Mae and her friends have been through a lot since she got back from college. After everything that had happened, she needs Gregg more than anyone else.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18857239

Secrets on Aisle Nine by CoreyWW

"In the back of her mind, she was thinking about certain ... things she had learned in the course of the current case she was working on.

But she tried her best to push that out of her head. That didn’t matter now.

She was off duty."

[Post-game. Molly goes shopping at the Ham Panther on her off day and speaks to Stan, thinking about absolutely nothing serious in the back of her mind.]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633715

Disconnect by Ihateyouandyourmum

It's fair to say that Mae had never really fit in with the people around them.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18429464

Bright Harbor: Building a New Family by Legend0fTacoHat

Gregg and Angus have decided to raise a child together, but it won't be easy. Even getting a child to begin with may prove to be too much for them to handle, and if they can get one, will they be able to give them the love and care they need, or will their lack of experience and past trauma keep them from being the parents they need to be?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15223373/chapters/35308898

No Reception in Possum Springs by Rcw99

A day in the life of Selmers.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968106

-"Shapes"- by ArrowAzura

Mae shares a poem in her Group Therapy Poetry-Project

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15373659

In the Deepest Dark by Rcw99

There were 21 people trapped down in the old Stafford Mine after Mae and her friends collapsed the entrance. They had a few lanterns and no way to call for help. Without food or water, they weren’t going to last more than three days.

Most of them accepted their fate, that they were going to die in the very place they killed so many others.

But, as it turned out, they weren’t alone down there.

There was…something lurking within the shadows. Something impossible. Unknowable. Enough to drive a person mad.

And all the while, Black Goat sings out his beautiful song.

Astral Shattering by InkyCorvid

Another night..another Dream

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14323107

A Day Off by SarcasticCartoonist

Beatrice Santello was never one to expect help from anybody in these last painful two years since her mother died. She'd grown accustomed to long work hours, monotonous daily chores, and a constant feeling of exhaustion that loomed over her every day. So it came as no small surprise then when Mae Borowski, her reunited childhood friend, showed up hunting for a job at the Ol' Pickaxe. Even more surprising then that was the cheery feline landed a position in the store and had been a massive help for relieving Bea's stressful workload.

A month had passed since Mae got hired, and now Bea's father was starting to show up around the store as well, even offering to help on several occasions. Bea didn't dare raise her hopes for eventually getting out of Possum Springs, but with the faint possibility of her father taking back the store, Bea's life was now refueled with passion and purpose. Little was she aware though that massive changes to her life were coming much sooner than she could've predicted.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12144249/chapters/27554658

Winter Diaries by Passivefish32

With the arrival of winter, Mae is eager to come to terms with strange events of Autumn and tackle her lingering anxieties by... writing a diary?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12998601/chapters/29722617

Lori M. by 7Moments

Life hasn't been easy for Lori and she's beginning to wonder how she'll survive until she can finally leave Possum Springs. Maybe a good friend is what she needs to show her the way... if she's willing to be shown.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14234391 

First Impressions of the Closeted Kind by Cogsbreak

A potential look at just how Gregg and Angus met the first time.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065578

All I want to do is worry about everyone but me by Princex_N

"I'd kill for that. I still would. I'd kick you out of this moving car right now if it meant I could go to college."

Bea doesn't know how she'd wanted Mae to respond, she doesn't know how she'd expected Mae to respond, but it wasn't for Mae to shift mulishly in her seat and say, "Maybe you should."

Or, the conversation in Bea's truck, and how I initially thought it was going to go

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716114

Sacrifice by Madness_of_Xara

What happened to Casey that night out by the train tracks?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10609140

Eulogy by KiraDood5

Everyone deals with grief some time in their life. This is one of those times. It's just so hard to say goodbye.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10406784

Awakening by BookCat (NintendoNerd125)

"It was a beautiful autumn day. The sun was shining, the leaves were a rainbow of colors, and there was barely a chill in the air. The majority of the residents of the town, Possum Springs, were enjoying this day. There were exclusions, though. One of them was Casey Hartley."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683195

Rolling a 20 on Peaceful Sleeping by ChaoticSparklez

This wasn't supposed to happen. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10689636/chapters/23672628

Using Magic Missile To Attack the Darkness by ChaoticSparklez

Where is she?

Do you really want to find out?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11044374/chapters/24619713

[invaderdoom78]

I was watching the abridged Broly movie and then started playing Xenoverse 2 and then this happened.

Trunks knew this was bound to happen eventually. The moment he heard that there was a small group of three time patrollers going around Conton City borderline harassing other patrollers simply because they decided to have a villain as their mentors, he knew a physical fight was bond to break out. He was just praying that he could make it from the Time Nest to the Mushroom Desert before things got too out of hand. He didn’t because once he was close enough to get a good look at the area it was obvious that a considerable amount of damage had been done.

“Shit!” Trunks exclaimed when he saw that it was one of Perfect Cells students who was involved in the fight and that Cell had decided to join in with at least three Cell Jr.s in the fay as well “shit, shit, shit!” He just kept chanting that until he landed “all of you need to stop this right now!”

Despite the fact that everyone obviously heard him and knew he was there the fighting continued with only Cells students looking relieved to see him, appearing to have not been involved with the fight as they were standing off to the side holding one of the Cell Jrs. This wasn’t really much of a surprise to Trunks since Cell was well Cell and he knew that the group of patrollers that were probably responsible for this harbored animosity towards him for being married to a monster.

“Really now?” Cell chuckled, kicking the shortest member of the group into the side mountain “is that all you got?”

“You bastard” the only female of the group growled, firing several ki blasts at Cell that he was very easily able to deflect them as well as throw the patroller when she charged him

Whether it was intentional or not all of these attacks were headed in Trunks direction and though he was able to dodge almost all of the blasts, one managed to hit him in his side and it distracted him just enough for the patroller to be thrown into him almost immediately after, taking him down to the ground with the patroller laying on top of him. Suddenly they all felt an un-Godly surge of power that was powerful enough to radiate throughout the entire city. All who were involved in the fight knew what the source of this power was and they felt ice shoot through their veins, the Cell Jr’s running to hide behind their father as Cell moved to guard his student, which Trunks had to give him some credit for since he seemed to care for his student to a certain degree. Everyone knew what was going to happen next but it still didn’t give them enough time to move out of the way of the enormous green ki blast that was heading their way. Once the dust settled and everyone was able to regain their bearings they all looked up to see the massive figure of Broly looming over them, looking ready to murder every single one of them.

“Broly stop!” Trunks said, quickly moving between his husband and the others

Trunks' sudden presence seemed to be enough to snap Broly out of his murderess rage just enough for him to be able to regain some control over his rage, but it was obvious he still wanted to rip everyone around them to shreds. Just by glancing at Cell Trunks could tell that he wanted to say something snarky, he wanted to mock Trunks about being a damsel in distress, about how the poor princess needed his husband to swoop in and save him, but he knew that that would only agitate the legendary more and he was one of the few people Cell knew for sure he couldn’t win against.

“Just calm down, honey” Trunks said gently, resting his hands on his husbands forearms “everything’s ok”

This was enough to get Broly to visibly relax, and at least slip out of his legendary from down to his super saiyan, as the two floated down to the ground but it didn’t last long as the leader of the agressing patrollers mumbled something that the Legendary was obviously able to hear, his attention immediately being pulled away from his wife; his murderous glare returning and focused on the group.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Trunks gently cupped his husband's face in his hands making him look back at him softly saiyang “it’s ok. I’m ok”

By this time a considerable sized group had gathered around them, consisting mainly of other time patrollers along with the Supreme Kai of Time and Elder Kai; hell they’d even managed to draw out Turles and Lord Slug.

“What is going on here?” Elder Kai asked

“Kaleaf, what happened here?” Chronoa asked Cells student

“Well” Kaleaf started, setting down the Cell Jr they’d been holding “I came here to train with Cell and these guys started harassing us and it just devolved from there”

“And Broly is here because?” Chronoa asked looking a bit afraid of what the answer might be

“I got caught in the middle of the fight” Trunks said feeling his husband start to tens up again

Wrapping both his arms around one of Brolys, gently rubbed his bicep in an attempt to help calm him down again “and he must’ve seen what happened”

“Alright” Chronoa said looking at the group of patrollers that had started this “I’ll handle this from here. You take Broly home and calm him down”

“Right” Trunks said lowering his hold so he was holding his husbands hand “come on”

Reluctantly Broly did as his wife had asked of him and they flew off for the Capsule Corp Transfer bot, Broly sticking as close to Trunks as he possibly could without being in the way, his sheer presence alone forcing anyone who happened to be flying near them scattering out of their path, hell there were even some people on the ground who didn’t want to be beneath them, but it didn’t stop Vegeta or Piccolo from watching them closely as the two flew past them. Activating the transfer bot, Trunks typed a code into its keypad so the bot would send them to a section of Capsule Corps that was inaccessible to the other time patrollers. Getting Broly home worked so much quicker than Trunks could’ve anticipated, the waves of pure rage that had been radiating off his husband having stopped though he was still holding his super saiyan form; as he scanned the room for any signs of potential danger. Once he was certain that their home was safe Broly scooped up Trunks and threw the half-saiyan over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Trunks laughed, hitting his husband in the shoulder blade “put me down”

Broly's response was an amused grunt as he stared walking down the hall towards their room.

“Hi, honey” Bulma said stepping out of the lab to greet them, having been drawn out by the larger saiyans footsteps, not thinking much about how Broly was carrying her child “how were your days”

“Well you know” Trunks said, Broly having moved so that mother and son could more easily speak to each other “a fight broke out and I got caught in the middle of it and I had to get Broly home otherwise he would’ve killed somebody”

“But you’ve gotten caught in the middle of fights before haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but Cell wasn’t involved in those” Trunks said getting a soft ‘ah’ from his mother

“Well” Bulma said walking past the two “I’ll come and get you when dinners ready then”

“Thanks mom” Trunks said as Broly started for their room again

Once they got there Broly tossed Trunks onto the bed and would’ve jumped on after him, but the last time he did that he broke the bed frame and they had to move the mattress to the floor until it was fixed.

So as carefully as he could Broly crawled onto the bed getting settled in, his back resting against the headboard legs criss-crossed in-front of him, before pulling Trunks into his lap, wrapping his arms around the others waist and burying his nose into the lavender hair before him. Chuckling a bit Trunks relaxed back into his husband's embrace.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Trunks asked, grabbing the remote to his T.V.

“Sure” Broly murmured lowly into Trunks hair

“Any preferences?” Trunks asked turning on the TV

“No” Broly said finally changing back into his base form

[lovlieziam]

Brooke!!! I will love you forever if you write Ziam and #50 😍

Well get prepared for a lifetime of loving me!

50. “We’d make such a cute couple.”

Zayn had always been particularly flirty with Liam, despite how shy both boys were in the beginning. Liam wasn’t sure what brought that part out in Zayn, but he wasn’t complaining. Well, not at first, at least.

It was cute, in the beginning, watching Zayn throw an awkward wink Liam’s way, all shy and bright red. Embarrassment never stopped Zayn where Liam was concerned, though. Those first few months of the boys all getting to know each other was rough and exciting, and watching Zayn make a fool of himself just to make Liam feel more included, more like he belong and was welcomed, neve failed to make Liam absolutely giddy with joy.

He had never taken Zayn seriously, though, not really. Zayn flirted with a  lot of people in those first few month, and he did a much better job with that flirting—with flirting that didn’t directly involve Liam. At first, Liam was a bit upset despite all the joy that friendly flirting brought—Liam thought Zayn was cute, okay? It broke his very naïve heart to see Zayn so effortlessly flirting and charming everyone around him, while he had to stutter he way through a cliché pick-up line directed at Liam.

Still, Liam loved the flirting, even if it broke his heart a little. Zayn wasn’t the first cute boy who hadn’t looked twice at Liam, and Liam was quite sure he wouldn’t be the last. That was okay, Liam had a lot of practice in pretending like it didn’t bother him.

And it didn’t, okay? So what Zayn had gotten much, much better at flirting over the last few years? So what that the shy glances and stuttered lines had morphed into sly quips and heated glances? So what that Liam had done a completely shit job at getting over his—small, insignificant, really—crush on Zayn? So what that Zayn still flirted with everyone like it was a joke—like it was an icebreaker, like it was simply a way of introducing himself?

So what that Liam was now pathetically, hopelessly in love with Zayn and watching him throw around pick-up lines like it was fucking confetti made his—still so naïve—heart crack and creak around the edges? So what that now when Zayn flirted with Liam, all he could do was ache with ‘what ifs’ and ‘I wants’?

It was fine, really. It was all totally okay, and Liam was coping like any fully grown, mature adult would do.

He was avoiding Zayn like the fucking plague. In fact, Liam was doing such a good job of being a fully realized, mature adult that he hadn’t seen or talked to Zayn in a little over a week.

The fact that that was, quite literally, the longest they had ever gone without contact since they met those fateful years ago? Insignificant.

Liam was actually surprised he had managed to avoid Zayn for this long—Zayn could be quite persistent when he wanted to be, and if Liam wasn’t seeking Zayn out for company, then chances were Zayn was seeking Liam.

But, of course, his good luck—see also: stubborn, bullheaded ways—had to run out at some point. So when Zayn—along with the three other boys—turned up at his door exactly one week and three days after Liam had promised himself he was going to move on by avoiding Zayn, he wasn’t exactly surprised.

“What are you guys doing here?” Liam asked, already moving aside to let them in. It was pointless to try and stop them. Harry had a key—a key he still wouldn’t tell Liam how he acquired—and even if he didn’t, they would just resort to making a bunch of noise—pounding on the door, the windows, quite literally throwing rocks at his house.

Fucking Louis.

“We decided it had been too long since we all hung out! So, what better time than now?” Harry exclaimed.

Liam raised an eyebrow. “On a completely random Tuesday night? Yeah, that makes total sense.”

“Exactly!” Harry beamed at Liam over his shoulder, already heading to the kitchen with his bags of snacks as Liam closed the door behind them all. Louis and Niall were quick to follow, shouting about which snacks were theirs and what Harry better have not forgotten.

Zayn lingered behind, and when Liam looked up to meet his gaze, Zayn leaned over and bumped their shoulders.

“Hey, Li,” he murmured. “Feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

Liam let out a soft, slightly awkward chuckle. “Yeah, s-sorry. I’ve been, uh, I’ve been real busy lately.” He rubbed a palm against the back of his neck, looking up at Zayn through his lashed. There was a soft look on Zayn’s face, only further softened by the sadness Liam could see lingering around his eyes.

All of a sudden, a wall of guilt slammed into Liam. It wasn’t Zayn’s fault Liam had been harboring stubborn, hard to get rid of feelings for Zayn all these years. He shouldn’t have shut Zayn out like that—should’ve thought about the effect his sudden radio silence would have on the other man.

“I’m really sorry for ghosting like that, Zed. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Liam watched Zayn’s nose scrunch as he smiled, and fuck, but was that cute.

“It’s okay, Li. I get it. Sometimes we get busy; there’s nothing we can do about it. We’ve got time now, yeah?” And, suddenly, Zayn’s expression was changing. Gone was the adorable smile, and in it’s place was a hooded stare as Zayn dragged his bottom lip through his teeth. “In fact, we’ve got all night, huh?”

Liam felt his pulse spike, his throat suddenly dry as he tried to swallow around the groan that wanted to work it’s way past. Liam’s lips parted on a reply, but nothing came out. What the fuck was he supposed to say? Certainly not what he wanted to say.

Almost as quick as it disappeared, Zayn’s goofy, adorable smile came back, but the twinkle in his eye remained. “C’mon, Li. You don’t want them to start the movie without us, do you?” And with that he was bounding down the hall, leaving Liam slightly breathless and still speechless in his wake.

*

As it turns out, they didn’t watch a movie. Instead, they all piled on Liam’s couch before Louis declared it was a “trashy reality TV night!” So they flipped through the channels, judging people’s bad relationship choices and, well, bad choices in general. It was actually nice, just spending time with four of his best friends and not having to worry about Zayn going overboard with the flirting. It was just. It was really nice. Until Harry had to go and ruin it by opening his big mouth—

“I don’t know, I actually think they make such a cute couple.” Louis snorted from his spot next to Niall, but Zayn. Fucking Zayn—

“We’d make such a cute couple, don’t you think, Li? Could put all these people to shame with our cuteness.”

Liam felt himself tense, his completely relaxed mood from seconds ago disappearing.

“I-I,” Liam stuttered, not even slightly sure what to say. All four boys were focused on him, his stuttering over innocent flirting, and fuck this is exactly what Liam had wanted to avoid. When Zayn flirted with him, he turned into a stumbling mess—his feelings on clear display.

He couldn’t do this, not when Louis was giving him that knowing look and Niall was casting a worried glance his way, and Zayn was—

He was looking up at Liam, that soft, fond look that made Liam think of sleepy morning kisses and slow dancing. That look that made Liam think of sweet cuddles and a lifetime of shared laughs. And Liam, he couldn’t, he—

He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t sit here and look into Zayn’s warm gaze and pretend like he wasn’t ass over tea kettle for the guy. He just couldn’t.

So he bolted. He jumped up from the couch, running to lock himself in his room to have his break down in private, as four voices called out his name behind him. Liam didn’t turn around, instead he sank down against his closed door, putting his head in his hands.

He got maybe two seconds of privacy—not nearly enough time for a proper breakdown—before there was a soft knock, followed by Zayn’s quiet, “Li?”

And Liam was so tired. He was tired of pretending like he didn’t have massive feelings for Zayn, tired of the pitying looks shot his way whenever Zayn flirted around the other boys, and just tired of acting like a part of himself didn’t exist.

Because his feelings for Zayn was a big part of him, and it always would be. Liam was kidding himself if he thought they’d go away because they wouldn’t. If they hadn’t by now after years of actively trying, they were never going to leave him.

“I think we would,” Liam said, his voice slightly muffled by his palms.

“What?” Liam didn’t blame Zayn for his confusion.

“I think we would. Make a cute couple. I—” Liam took a deep breath, braced himself before standing up and turning around and opening the door. Zayn stumbled forward a little, catching himself before he crashed into Liam.

“Zayn, I’m in love with you. I have been since, fuck, since we were kids. I think we would make a really, really cute couple, and I can’t. I know you’re just joking, that you’re just flirting to flirt when you say shit like that, but I’m not. I don’t take it as a joke when you do it, all I want is for it to be real and you—you can’t keep flirting with me, Zayn. You can’t, okay? You can’t if you don’t mean it because—”

But Liam didn’t get to finish because his next breath was cut off by Zayn’s lips crashing into his. They kissed for a moment, until Liam pulled away, breathless.

“Zayn, what—”

“It’s only real with you, Li. The flirting? I only mean it with you, Li. I love you, too. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”