#though i had a backup layer just in case it went terribly

[atvie]

holding on for dear life

[libermachinae]

Fault Lines Under the Living Room

Part III: Watch - Chapter 9: Smog Layer Rolling In

Available on AO3 Chapter Summary: The trio compare notes. Chapter Word Count: 3578

---

Beyond the city, Vitrious was a patchwork of barren plateaus with deep crags of lush valleys between, dense vegetation knotting together until only those adapted for such environments would have any hope of navigating them. Drift set his shuttle down on the flat plain, well within sight of the parked Decepticon craft, and took a moment to vent before he rose from the pilot’s seat and made for the hatch. He checked the cell was secure, catching Grit’s optic as he passed; there was a glare, but no sharp remarks as Drift turned his back on them.

The soil was a hard-packed conglomeration of quartz, granite, and limestone that sparkled even under Vitrious’s perpetually overcast weather, but Drift’s gaze was up as he approached the too-familiar vessel. The hatch was open and Rodimus was sitting on the ramp, Ratchet standing at his left shoulder. They waved but put up their hands, stop, when he started coming closer.

“Sorry,” Rodimus said over comms.

“We don’t know how far the effects extend,” Ratchet explained.

Drift stopped where he was, stance wide and swords glinting.

“Do you really have the Enigma?” he asked.

“It’s not the kind of thing we could make up,” Ratchet said.

“Where did you find it?”

“Another Autobot left it on the Lost Light,” Rodimus said. “Arcee. Don’t know where she got it from, but she hid it on this shuttle and took off. We tried to follow her, but some things—I got us hit with a satellite.”

“A satellite,” Drift repeated.

Rodimus nodded.

Drift raised his two fists and bounced them together.

“Hit you.”

“We’re not going to get very far if that’s where your suspension of disbelief ends,” Ratchet said. “And anyway, we both played a part getting into that mess. I wasn’t the most communicative pilot.”

Rodimus shifted, looking down at his pedes, then grinned. Without making optic contact, Ratchet matched it.

“A lot of things were said, but that’s beside the point.” Rodimus waved his hand. “We lost control of the shuttle and by the time we got it back, Arcee was gone.”

“Why would she do that?” Drift asked. An object that dangerous needed to stay far away from Cybertronian hands, especially anyone aligned with the civil war factions. To abandon it like that was either negligence or malicious, and he found himself glancing at the sky, wondering whether someone else was on their way to retrieve it.

“Didn’t tell us,” Ratchet said. “Didn’t even tell us it was here. Had to find it ourselves.”

“Both of you?”

Ratchet and Rodimus glanced at each other.

“Who else?” Drift pressed.

“What?” Rodimus asked, both their gazes snapping back to him.

“Who else was with you? You can’t form a combiner with just two people.”

“That’s where it gets complicated,” Ratchet said. Unlike Rodimus, who had taken to glancing at the ground again, spoiler twitching to give the illusion his whole frame was in motion, Ratchet’s optics and posture were steady.

“It was just us,” Rodimus said. “I didn’t know what to do. Ratchet had just said he was—“ He froze, looked up at Ratchet, then went on. “He was leaving, and the glowy thing in the wall seemed like a good distraction from that.”

“We were both under immense stress,” Ratchet said, laying a hand on Rodimus’ spoiler. The twitching stopped. “Maybe the Enigma picked up on that. It decided we were a good enough match that it could link us together while it looked for someone else.”

“A holding pattern,” Drift said. The word came up automatically; in reality, his attention was being yanked between Rodimus’ slight smile, Ratchet’s hand, and the fact that the latter had apparently been in the process of deserting. That didn’t sound like the Ratchet he knew.

“Yeah, exactly, that’s what Cyclonus called it,” Rodimus said, oblivious to his internal struggle.

“You’ve heard of it?” Ratchet asked.

“Only briefly, and my sources weren’t that trustworthy.”

“Tell us what they said anyway,” Ratchet said, his hand moving into soothing strokes along Rodimus’ spoiler. Drift found himself looking at the ground. “We still know next to nothing about this thing, beyond that it’s a pain in the aft and poor judge of character.”

Drift shook out his hand and unsheathed his sword, twirling it in front of him in basic patterns. Better to be frank with his restlessness than let it distract him from the matter at hand.

“It’s rare, and terrible,” he said. “Bonded sparks without a physical connection to stabilize them try to overpower each other.” He thrust his sword forward, grimacing at the blunt movement. “The case studies all described once-friends trying to rip each other apart, just for a few minutes’ peace.” There must have been instances of final components being introduced, but he hadn’t bothered to log them to his memory. He’d been looking for horror stories to break up the boredom. Shockwave’s archives had been an indulgence.

“Hasn’t been easy,” Ratchet said, “but it was never that bad.” Even from this far away, his gaze was like a physical touch on Drift’s plating. He tried to ignore it as he moved into his next step in the pattern.

“We did organize an entire shuttle to keep me from frying Ratchet’s circuits,” Rodimus said. “Oh, and meditated!” His spoiler flicked, briefly dislodging Ratchet’s hand before he put it back. Their disturbed looks switched to matching grins again, and Drift now recognized it for what it was: a private joke.

Drift paused to regard them, their easy postures combined with the gentle way they moved around each other. Nothing like what he had filled his head with all those years ago.

“Why did you come?” he asked, sheathing his sword. “You said you need my help.”

Rodimus stood up, creating a gap between them.

“Like Ratchet said, it hasn’t been as bad as what you heard,” he said, “but we can’t live like this forever. Ratchet’s—”

He stopped, optics flashing, and Ratchet closed the distance again, pressing a hand to the back of his neck.

“It’s been a challenge,” Ratchet said. “We can function, but neither of us can fulfill our responsibilities while we’re like this, especially if we’re at risk of pulling someone into it. We need some way to minimize the effects or, ideally, cut it off. Unfortunately, that falls outside my area of expertise.” He dropped his hand.

“But we were thinking: weird spark stuff, bonds between people. That’s kind of what you’re all about, right?” Rodimus stood, the corner of his lips quirked up in a hopeful grin.

Drift stared at it. His hand was frozen, still wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

“Cyclonus suggested Spectralist meditation practices might influences the effects of the Enigma,” Ratchet said with a resigned acceptance that, in another situation, Drift might have prodded at. Ratchet was handing him a free turn in their old game, only it wasn’t a game anymore and Drift found himself with a miserable hand.

“And you want me to…”

They looked at each other, more than a glance this time.

“Well, was he right?” Rodimus asked. “Is there anything you can do?”

Unlike most answers in Drift’s life, this one came with little inner turmoil.

“No. There isn’t.”

Spectralism was a war religion. A subset of Alchemists had felt their belief system had become too tied up in the politics of the war, especially after the Acuity had announced a passive alliance with the Autobots. The Alchemic apostates believed that, by focusing on the body, one could transcend the factional gulfs that divided their species, and named their new movement Spectralism, in reference to the standard spectrum of light emitted by their photonic cores. It was a modern religion designed around the issues of its time. Not ancient long-lost artifacts of questionable ethics.

Rodimus’ spoiler drooped and Ratchet’s optics dimmed. Rodimus straightened up a moment later, brave smile on, but the way Ratchet sunk into his own plating told Drift far more about their shared headspace.

“That’s okay!” Rodimus said. “We can figure something else out. Or not! Ratchet’s been warming up to me. Bet we could make it a few years at least before we—”

His words choked off and Drift had to look away, anger roiling beneath his plating. He hated that he couldn’t just feel sympathy for their situation; wrapped up in it was the knowledge that they had come, not for him, but for something he might provide. He had always been a tool for other mechanisms, from his days on the streets up through his rise in the Decepticons, and hoping for any different after he defected, after the war ended, after he joined Rodimus’ side kept demanding a steeper price.

He was still trying to figure out what he could say that Deadlock would not have when the plasma bolt caught him.

It hit his right shoulder from behind and sent him sprawling. He landed on the hard ground and gasped as pain, numbness, and the tingle of backup sensors raced up his armor in rapid succession. Calibration had not finished before he was trying to get up again.

“Drift!” Ratchet and Rodimus yelled.

He grunted and tried to see who shot him but had to roll away to dodge a second bullet aimed for his helm. He heard a second, quiet shuttle landing beside his own and realized his mistake.

The third shot went wide, expecting him to keep rolling in the same direction, and he took advantage of the lost second to leap to his feet and lunge at Grit’s crewmate, frozen at the edge of the hatch. His left sword came up to block another volley and then he was on the Decepticon, spinning and shoving him to the floor of the hatch with his gun arm pinned behind his back. There was nothing he could do to stop the remote-piloted shuttle, though, already taking off while the other two scrambled aboard. He shoved the Decepticon into the ground, then jumped over him. Someone was shouting, but he didn’t hear the words. If he could catch the underside of the ship—

He missed. The thrusters fired just as he leapt and sent him hurtling, skidding across the plateau. He tumbled end over end, plating banging against the solid ground, until at last he came to a stop on his back, staring at the open sky.

He struggled to sit up. The pain wasn’t bad, but vertigo had him misjudging the weight of his frame. He heard the shuttle flying away before he could see it, followed by gunshots. He started to roll over, a delayed evasive maneuver, before he realized that the blasterfire was coming from the ground. Rodimus and Ratchet had retrieved weapons and were shooting at the retreating shuttle while their own sat idle.

“Go!” Drift shouted. He hoped that was what he’d said. “Don’t let them break atmosphere.” He swayed onto his feet, looking around for the sword that had flown from his grasp.

A pulse flew by his helm, singing the air itself, and he turned around to see the Decepticon crumple to the ground, gun falling out of his hand.

“Not leaving you behind,” Rodimus said.

“Not like we’ve had great luck chasing people off world anyway,” Ratchet added.

Above their heads, the shuttle’s thrusters pulsed as it prepared for the final push to break atmosphere. Already it was receding from view, the planet’s smog layer rolling in to cover its retreat, and Drift knew it would be off his own ship’s sensor range long before he got it airborne. He tried to gauge how far a ship like that could travel before it needed to stop for fuel.

“You okay, Drift?” Rodimus asked.

Drift shut off his comms.

He picked up his sword on his way back to the shuttle. The Decepticon was lying on the ground, clutching his hip; warm energon seeped from between his fingers. Drift doubted he would die from the wound, but the bleeding was enough to make anyone panic, which was exactly what he needed right now. He pointed his blunted weapon at the Decepticon’s throat, allowing the curve of the blade to cut a hair-thin line in the plating housing his central energon line.

“What’s your name?” he asked. “How important are you to Grit?” Voice trembling slightly; good. Most Cybertronians knew the difference between shivers of fear and barely-concealed anger.

“Spur,” the Decepticon squeaked, trying to back away from the sword while keeping both hands on his hip. Drift noted the dent in his helm where Rodimus had shot him earlier. “We were stationed on the same moon. We’re business partners.”

“Are they coming back for you?”

“Yes!” Spur nodded his head, optics bright and wide. “They’re coming back with reinforcements, and they’re going to be mad if something happens to me.”

Drift would have groaned, had he the energy. Even if Spur was lying (most likely) the possibility of Grit reaching out to other rogues put Vitrious in a much riskier situation than it had been in before. Suddenly, it was no longer a matter of stopping a single slave trade operation: now there was information on the line, harder to predict and much more complicated to contain. Once he had the immediate threats neutralized, he was going to have to determine whether the Galactic Council should be tipped off to the vulnerability of this sector, a question of whether safety from Decepticons was worth the Council’s brand of planetary defense.

That was a problem for the future, though, one he was able to brush aside as he sheathed his sword and leaned down, hoisting Spur with his good arm while he used his bad one for balance.

“What? Hey, wh—”

“You know where they’re going,” Drift said. “Give me the coordinates.”

“N-no! What would I—”

“You want to get back together with your crew, right?” Drift asked, dropping Spur back into the ruined cell. “Give me the coordinates and I’ll make sure you’re still online when we drop you off.” It was a bluff, of course, but Drift had always had a talent for making bots think the worst of him.

He received the packet over a broadband comm frequency. After scanning it for viruses, he diverted it to the ship’s navigation system, then popped open one of the panels in the wall and retrieved a pile of stained rags. He crouched beside Spur and dropped the rags so he could catch one of the Con’s desperate hands and pry it away from his wound.

“Wait—”

“Relax,” he commanded, deftly retrieving his cuffs so he could clip one end around Spur’s wrist and the other to the lower frame of the cell where it extended slightly from the floor. It would make for a less comfortable trip, but that was what he got for breaking Drift’s things: Grit had shorted the locking mechanism and brute forced the failsafe. It would be a time-consuming fix, both whatever patch job he could throw together and the eventual repair stop he would have to make at a legitimate mechanic.

Satisfied Spur was secure, he pulled away Spur’s other hand and started to mop up the spilled energon with one of the rags. Already, the flow had slowed, but he wanted to see the damage for himself before he trusted self-repair.

“Here,” he said, pushing the pile to Spur. “Pack the wound with that to slow the bleeding. I’ll take a closer look once we’re airborne.”

Spur stared at the rags like he had no idea what to do with them, which Drift doubted. One did not make it through a war like theirs without learning the tricks to keep a body from dying.

“Why?” he asked.

Drift received a ping from the navicomp and waved off Spur’s question, retreating to the pilot’s console to confirm the flight path. As he had suspected, the destination was not far. Even doubling the computer’s estimated travel time, which had become necessary since the last time he’d wormed his was into the engine, it would still barely be enough time to prepare for a conflict. He hit a button to raise the hatch and input the commands to prepare for takeoff. Faint voices were buzzing through the ship’s comm system, and he entertained the idea of shutting that off, too.

“Gonna get that?” Spur asked, optics angling to the speaker.

“Don’t know,” Drift said, playing with the volume control. The sound dipped so low he might have mistaken it for a piece of his thoughts, too indistinct to even be called nonsense.

“It’s your team, right?”

“No, not really.” He shut it off, the sound of the engine filling the space so immediately he didn’t have time to miss it.

“I would’ve killed you, if it hadn’t been for them.”

Drift glanced back. Spur had taken his suggestion and was packing the wound, and there was defiance in his posture now that he was not stooping to keep himself from bleeding out.

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Drift said. “You were aiming for my helm, right? The finials make me look taller than I really am. Your shot would have missed my cranial casing by less than an inch. A blow like that would knock me down, make it look like you had hit, but I would have received more damage from the fall itself than the gunshot. Provided I landed with my palm down, I would have retaliated before you got your finger back around the trigger.” He turned back to the viewshield. Ratchet and Rodimus had disappeared, the Decepticraft’s hatch was shut, and the engines were coming online.

Spur huffed.

“Autobots are weird.”

“I’m not an Autobot.”

“Nah, but they are.” There was a clink of metal, as though Spur had tried to gesture with his bound hand. “Never seen them give a scrap about a bot like you.”

A notification came up: shuttle primed and ready.

“Listen,” Spur said. “You’ve clearly got some sort of history. I don’t care what. But in my experience, there’s no bigger nuisance in the universe than an Autobot who decides to care about something, especially if it happens to be none of his business and all of yours. So, in the interest of not getting shot again, can you at least make sure you have those two under control?”

Drift leaned his head back to look at the ceiling. He wasn’t an Autobot. Not anymore, Rodimus had seen to that, and he’d never really wanted to be one, anyway. Did he care about things in a fundamentally different way from how Ratchet and Rodimus did? Had the divides in their species been driven down that far? Or had they been the reason for the war in the first place? He didn’t have an answer for that. But maybe Spur had a point. Without looking, he turned the comms back on.

“—on’t go yet, just listen, we—”

“What.”

“Drift!” Rodimus said.

“What’s your fuel pump pressure?” Ratchet asked. “Feel anything loose or out of alignment?”

Drift shook his head. There was a twinge in his shoulder and the usual weight of his body, but those were manageable.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Grit’s collecting reinforcements. I’m going to intercept. You two should head for the nearest Council-aligned planet and wait there; if you hear even a rumor that Cybertronians have started moving in, let the local enforcement division know.” They would alert the Galactic Council security forces, and then Vitrious would be out of their hands.

“We’re coming with you,” Rodimus said, though the tone was all wrong. He sounded like Ratchet.

“No.” Commands had never suited Drift’s voice; even now, it came out sounding like a demand. “I can’t help you, and I sure as slag can’t protect you. What happens if the Decepticons find you? Or worse, get onto the ship and find the—” he glanced back at Spur, “—the you-know-what? Then it’s not just Vitrious: everyone’s problems get so much worse.” His fingers were drumming the console, an anxious non-beat. “I’m sorry that you wasted so much time coming out here and that you’re having to live through this. Really, I am. But I need you to let me do this.” Once Grit was taken care of, he would regroup with them and do what he could to help their situation, what little it was. But his list of debts was long and this one came first.

“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Ratchet said. “Believe it or not, we’re more than capable of taking care of ourselves, and we can recognize when someone else’s problems are more pressing than our own. We’re coming to help you, Drift.”

His hands wrapped around the yoke.

“I’m not going to—”

“We’ve still got a tracker on that shuttle,” Ratchet went on. “So, you can either ping us the coordinates now and let us strategize on the way there, or you can wait for us to catch up in the middle of—of whatever this is. Your call.”

Drift’s engine growled. He heard a hiccup from behind and turned his glare on Spur, who looked inappropriately unrepentant for a mech cuffed to the floor.

“I hope you know I hate you both.”

“Hey!” Rodimus yelped, but Ratchet laughed, and a moment later Rodimus’ nervous chuckle floated through as well.

[phagechildon]

The Greater Good - Chapter 9

It’s been so long since I’ve updated due to personal issues, but I’m finally able to write Hijack again! And due to the long hiatus, this chapter is especially long sitting at around 19,422 words! I know the fandom’s dead but they’re so fun to write! I highly recommend reading on AO3 for a better experience since Tumblr refuses to copy anything that I italicized or bold -_- I didn’t have anyone else edit this for me due to the length and everyone being busy, so I’m sorry for the mistakes! READ ON AO3 - Rated M for Mature due to violence, death, dark and sexual themes

Tumblr:  | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Fandom: Hijack/Frostcup Story Summary: Jack, unable to handle the dark life he’s living, is now trying to redeem himself by using his skills and demigod powers to protect the innocent. Though he gets more than he bargained for when he meets Hiccup, who unknowingly holds the very fate of the world in his hands.

Last Chapter recap since it’s been a while:  With Zootopia overran by Nightmares and half of them being sold into slavery, Hiccup volunteers himself to be captured in order to free the other prisoners. In the meantime, Jack confronts the Nightmares who are attacking the city, only to realize everything is going according to Pitch's plan - a plan to get Hiccup. Quickly resolving the issue, he flys towards the prisoner camp, hoping he isn't too late. However he's unaware that not only are the Nightmares there to capture Hiccup, but so is Callaghan's Army and the Outcasts. Everything's a chaotic mess and poor Hiccup just wants a break.

TW: Mentions of rape and sexual harassment is mentioned throughout this chapter. It gets sorta but not too bad at the part where I added *** . It stops when you see *** again. I added a very brief explanation of what happened at the end in case you want to skip it!

----

“Shit-” Jack cursed as he hovered over the burning prisoner camp, the smoke so severe he was forced to use one of his sleeves to cover his mouth. The fire was so intense he couldn’t even see past the smoke and flames. He prayed Hiccup wasn’t down there, but he didn’t dare take a chance. He had to at least take a quick glance around.

Toothless hopped off his shoulder and gave him an agreeing nod. “I’ll go left you go right. We’ll meet on the other side.” Immediately the dragon dove down, Jack following suit. Despite how exhausted he was, he formed a thin yet durable layer of ice around his skin. It only gave him at least three minutes before he’d have to take a brief break, but it was better than nothing.

“Hiccup!!” He called as he landed, his eyes widening as he saw the Mother’s Arms soldiers laying in pools of their own blood. Hiccup wouldn’t resort to such bloodshed, and those wounds weren’t caused by dragons either. The cuts were clearly made by swords. What happened here?

Running further in, his eyes caught sight of men adorning different uniforms. “Callaghan’s army?” He mumbled, even more confused than before. They practically disbanded that army. The fact the few survivors were even here meant they probably tracked them all the way from the Hamada Village. But if Pitch made good on his threat, then that meant the Mother’s Arms, Callaghan’s Army, and the Nightmares were all in the camp with Hiccup as their collective target. He knew Hiccup can handle himself, he trusted him, but against three different armies?

“Hiccup!!” He cried out again just as he passed a Nightmare body, his fearful theory being proven true.

This was his fault. He should’ve realized the string of odd coincidences and connected the dots sooner. This was definitely something only Pitch was capable of. If something happened to Hiccup, he’d never forgive himself.

A rattling cage pulled him out of his thoughts as he looked around for the origin. “Hiccup?!” He instinctively called as he ran faster in the direction of the noise. Of course it was in the area most of the smoke was coming from.

The closer he got the more his eyes burned until he felt himself kick something metal.

Looking down, he saw a medium sized bird cage with a barely conscious chameleon in it.

Strange, he didn’t know Mother Gothel liked pets.

Very gently he picked the cage up and opened it. The small reptile looked at him weakly yet thankfully as it crawled onto Jack’s hand.

“I’ll get you out of here little guy,” he reassured as he dropped the cage, hearing it clank against something soft. Glancing down he saw the body of a rather high ranking Nightmare on the ground judging by the clothes, and beside him drag marks. There was something odd about the drag marks though. He wasn’t sure if he was looking too into it, but he could swear the left side leg was more square than the other, meaning the person who was dragged away could be Hiccup. It was definitely worth checking out.

Jumping up he rose above the smoke, seeing Toothless doing the same. “Over here!” Jack called, the dragon turning and flying towards him. “He was taken, but there’s tracks leading in this direction-” he pointed north. “Let’s get a Terrible Terror.”

----

His body still felt heavy as he slowly became aware of the rattling ground that made his teeth clank together. For a moment, he thought he’d heard Jack’s contagious laughter and soothing hum. Unfortunately he must've been half asleep because all he heard now was the booming laughter of someone he didn’t know.

“To think we’d have a princess to collect a bounty for too - this is our lucky day!”

A princess? Who were they talking about?

“Since she’s got some weird powers, we’ll force them to give us more reward money for our troubles,” Savage said, memories of earlier coming back at once. In an instant he paled, desperately wanting to open his eyes to confirm the horror for himself. His body was heavy though, so, so heavy, not even his eyelids would open. Whatever the Nightmares did to him was still severely affecting him, to the point where he felt his consciousness starting to fade again. This wasn’t like the poison, this was something inherently different. Perhaps it was the spell that made him limb as a doll? Whatever it was, he absolutely hated it.

A small noise rumbled from the back of his throat, but it wasn't audible to others. It was swallowed by a gag in his mouth. Of course they’d gag him, they knew he could call for help.

“Hiccup?” Rapunzel’s voice came over softly. The dragon whisperer didn’t realize how worried he was for her until he heard her voice as he relaxed just a tiny bit. He tried to respond, but all that came out was another soft groan. Oh how he just wanted to scream in frustration.

“You’re hurt - I’ll heal you as soon as I can,” she gently reassured, her voice so soothing he tried to solely concentrate on her. It made being paralyzed slightly more bearable. “They keep talking about hearing lots of horses gaining up on us. If it’s another army, we can use the chaos to escape.”

Escape? He wondered if she was able to get out of her ropes. Considering she was a woman and these were Alvin’s men, they probably didn’t take her seriously.

“I’d take your gag off, but they keep making sure it’s still on, sorry,” she apologized, to which Hiccup merely shook his head, the statement confirming his theory. Maybe the situation wasn’t as hopeless as he thought. Even now he could hear the thundering thuds of more horses gaining on them, making him take a deep breath through his nose.

He couldn’t move, but he wouldn’t be useless.

It felt like an eternity as they waited for something to happen. “Incoming from behind! Get the prisoners out of here!” Savage commanded. “Make sure that gag stays on the boy!”

“Yes sir!” Someone answered as the wagon moved even faster than before. He groaned as he felt his body rattle even harder against the wood, causing even further discomfort.

He still couldn’t move, still couldn’t speak.

“I got this,” Rapunzel said, only making Hiccup feel worse. If something happened and she needed backup - shit. He had to do something.

He heard the ruckus, heard the man gasp in shock, and heard her wrecking havoc. The wagon swayed left and right. He heard her gasp in pain, then rebuttal. Part of him started praying Jack and Toothless would show up with a Terrible Terror to save them - to save Rapunzel.

He heard the sound of horse’s hooves catching up from behind them, heard arrows being notched, Rapunzel cry out in horrific pain -

“Stop!” He cried out behind the gag as he sat up, ignoring the fact he couldn’t even move a few moments ago. His eyes opened and saw red leaving the blond’s shoulder where an arrow was sticking out of it as she continued holding the horse’s reins, trying to prevent them from crashing.

There were four on horseback catching up to them, getting more arrows ready, but Hiccup was faster. He dropped to the ground and rubbed his face against the side of the wagon, the gag being pulled down.

It was all a blur. He let loose a dragon noise, he couldn’t even remember which one.

The enemy let their arrows soar, but they never pierced. Instead they uselessly fell to the ground as Hiccup turned, seeing the riders tossed from his seats as the horses made a mad dash in the opposite direction. He squinted his eyes, trying to see what kind of dragon he summoned only to realize why he couldn’t see anything.

He summoned Changelings, and they were both wild and unpredictable.

His eyes met with Rapuzenl’s weak ones as he desperately shot up, his hand wrapping around the arrow and pulling it out of her shoulder just as the wagon tipped over -

And his world went black once again.

----

The Terrible Terror was struggling, and Jack was trying his best to stay patient. The dragon was obviously trying its best as he caught a few words such as ‘this way’ and ‘shit, why.’ Of course Hiccup taught him some of the curse words, dragons apparently loved using them just like humans.

“There might be a lot of people with them, making his scent harder to make out,” he said as his eyes grew heavy again, threatening to close. Toothless said something, but all he could frustratingly make out was ‘It’s-- if they know--- tracking him,’ which was no help since he couldn’t even make out what he meant.

Toothless groaned himself, knowing the theory may help Jack come up with something useful. They were using a lock of Hiccup’s hair, one of the most powerful forms of tracking material you can use aside from a fingernail yet this Terrible Terror was having a hard time pinning his location, which meant whoever had Hiccup was purposefully covering his scent. Callaghan’s army didn’t seem smart enough to do such a thing and the Nightmares didn’t even know about dragons. The only ones knowledgeable enough would be enemies of Berk itself.

Guess it didn’t matter if Jack was aware of this. This half human would stop at nothing to secure Hiccup, and that was just fine with Toothless.

However, he might have to force the demigod to take a break. He was looking even paler than usual; there was hardly any color left in his face. The stupid human hadn’t rest despite dispelling so much energy during the Nightmare attack on the city.

The sound of clinking metal made Jack tiredly look down, spotting a man and women surrounded by six people from the Nightmares. As worried as he was for Hiccup, he couldn’t ignore people in need.

Cursing under his breath, he instructed the Terrible Terror to stop as he dropped out of the sky. The two humans saw him at the corner of their eyes and gasped as he slammed into the ground, ice shooting out and hitting two of the men. Slowly he got to his feet, his staff forming in his hands as the little chameleon from earlier peeked out of his shoulder, shivering as Jack’s body heat left him.

“Stall me all you want Pitch, but I’ll save him,” he hissed, using the wind to quickly zip between the enemies and tap their chests with his staff. All at once they all fell, their hearts and lungs frozen over.

Merciless, but he was in no mood to think about it. Pitch was trying to take the one person who made him feel human and wanted for the first time in a long time. Of course he was in a fowl mood.

“Wow, where were you like, six minutes ago?” The brown haired man with a goatee laughed as he put his sword away. Jack blearingly looked over at him, cursing under his breath as his vision started going in and out. The women behind him with short black hair kept her sword out in alert, something he could respect.

“You guys… alright?” He took a step forward, the world moving around him before fading to black.

----

The floor was moving - it was galloping. His chest and ribs ached, his stomach unsettled. If he had eaten recently he probably would’ve thrown it up. Trying to adjust his position, he found, once again, he was tied up. This time he felt ropes around his arms and foot, a single rope connecting them so he couldn’t fall off the horse without getting trampled.

Perfect, just perfect. Whoever had him now didn’t seem to care about his safety much.

“Slow down, she’s starting to slip again,” he heard a man say. On queue he felt the horse slowing down, the decrease in speed only seeming to make the pain in his chest worse. “Let’s stop and change her bandages, Corona won’t pay for a dead princess.”

Bandages? Did that mean Rapunzel was okay?

The horses came to a stop. He felt someone shift the saddle he was draped against before someone landed somewhat lightly on the ground, confirming one thing. These weren’t the Outcasts. Their speech wasn’t harsh and they didn’t wear heavy armor, meaning they were probably captured by Callaghan’s army. Better than the Nightmares at least.

“What about the Dragon Conqueror?” Hiccup flinched. He hated that nickname.

“Cut him down, but don’t let him out of your sight. He should be waking up soon and we can’t risk him calling for help.”

“Uh… who would he even call out for?” He heard another ask as he too got off his horse.

“Who do you think called for those Changelings back there, hm? Those brutes?”

“Oh… guess you’re right.” The man replied. “I’ll do it then.” He heard someone approach him and tighten the gag around his mouth, making him aware of the rough cloth that was also shoved into his mouth to help prevent any kind of sound from leaving him at all. They were being thorough, unfortunately for him. Luckily for him, they weren’t too bright, he just had to wait for the right moment.

The middle rope was severed, allowing his numb arms and leg to finally separate. Like a rag doll the man pulled him off the horse, not caring as Hiccup’s legs hit the ground hard. Swallowing his pained groan, he felt the man drag him at least six paces away before dropping him.

“H-he’s hurt,” Rapunzel’s sweet voice rang, easing the dragon whisperer’s heart a bit. “Please… be gentle.”

“I’d worry more about yourself,” he heard a man snicker darkly, making Hiccup's eyebrows burrow in anger. “After all, we still have time before we get to Corona, and these nights get awfully cold.”

Oh hell no. No one spoke to someone like that and got away with it. Hesitantly he opened his eyes slightly, realizing he wasn’t blindfolded. They were in a forest of sorts with no river nearby, but that was fine. Gazing around camp, he saw around six men, all of which were watching what seemed to be the leader trying to intimidate Rapunzel who was just giving him death glares. The poor guy had no clue she could probably take half of them at once with her hair alone, but their diverted attention only made this easier.

His body still felt oddly heavy, but nothing compared to earlier. Wiggling his fingers, he pressed them to the dirt hoping to find something sharp to use.

“It’s futile,” he heard a voice say, making him freeze immediately. “Whether you get out of those bonds or not, you’re just gonna get captured again.” This voice… didn’t belong to one of Callaghan’s men. The sheer tone alone made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, unnerving him. This cold empty despair - could it really be someone from the Nightmares?

“Looks like you are smart after all,” the voice chuckled, but he heard no footsteps and saw no one. “I’d save your strength, you’re going to need it where you’re going.”

The response only egged him on, wanting to prove the voice wrong. It must be part of the stupid shadow that attached itself to him, he realized as he searched with his fingers more until they brushed something smooth and cold like metal. The quality didn’t feel the greatest, but the fact he found metal was so astounding he decided not to question it as he maneuvered it between his fingers a bit, making it press against the ropes.

He looked over at the men, seeing them getting closer to Rapunzel who only looked more agitated than before - so did the men. She probably said something to upset them, he realized.

He had to hurry.

A cramp coursed through his hand, nearly making him drop the metal. Cursing under his breath he worked past it as Rapunzel’s and his eyes met. Somehow he knew she was saying it was time to go and got ready to sit up in an attempt to help. He had no clue what she had in mind and hoped she had some sort of plan.

“Once I start, I can’t stop. If you touch, it’s your own fault,” she seethed in warning. The men only laughed as they came forward, making her close her eyes. “Wither and decay-” her eyes snapped open, the entirety of her eyes turning completely black. All the light seemed to be sucked away in the area as the horses immediately ran away, making the men nervously go silent. “End this destiny-” her long beautiful golden hair started wilting to black, the ropes around her wrists and legs dissolving into nothing. The grass and vegetation around her even started to wilt before dying within the matter of seconds. “Break these earthly chains, and set the spirit free.”

“Wh-what?!” The men gasped as they took a step back seeing the dying grass getting closer to them. “T-the hell is this?!”

“Set the spirit free.”

The sight was horrifying, but only urged him to work even faster. By the time she started saying it again he felt the rope budge and quickly pulled his wrists free. Knowing that probably made a sound he quickly sat up and pulled the rope off his his good leg, allowing the rest to dangle for now as the men turned.

“Shit, get him!”

Seeing all six men turn their attention to him, Hiccup quickly pulled the gag off and coughed out the second half. Tossing it, he hit the closest man in the face before he got up on his good leg. None of them came at him with swords, meaning they wanted him alive.

Why didn’t that make him feel any better about their situation?

One made a grab for him, to which he quickly side stepped and pushed the off balanced man to the ground. The attack made Rapunzel gasp as she said the incantation even louder, a horrible crunching noise making them all look to the ground as vines started rising out of the ground, their lush green color turning ashen black.

The men all stopped their attack as their faces paled, seeing the looming dark shadow wash over where they were standing.

With sharp gasps of fear they ran, forgetting about Hiccup and their gear. Honestly the dragon whisperer was just as nervous as he looked up to Rapunzel, feeling as if the soles of his shoes were getting thinner.

“Rapunzel?” He hesitantly called out. She finished the verse only to instantly collapse. The pure black strands slowly became golden again as she groaned. Instantly he hopped over, kneeling over her, afraid to touch her. “Rapunzel, are you okay?”

She opened her eyes a bit, seemingly drained. “Yeah… sorry about that,” she whispered. Very carefully Hiccup helped her sit up, that dark aura gone. He glanced at her shoulder wound, seeing the bandages turn a bit pink. The fall probably opened it again.

He reached forward, but stopped, recalling the disgusting things those pigs were saying. “Your wound-” the blond looked down, seeing the pink and groaned.

“I… can heal it, just, give me a minute,” she breathed, to which he nodded, respecting her space. For now he needed to find something to make a temporary prosthetic out of. Luckily one of them left their bag. Rummaging through it, he found some rope, bandages, and a knife, all of which were pretty useful.

“Maybe this means our luck’s starting to turn around.”

It took a few minutes, but he managed to make a prosthetic out of a rather chunky piece of wood and the other materials he found. In the meantime Rapunzel healed her wound and even healed a few of Hiccup’s.

“So… your hair,” Hiccup started as the glow left the golden strands. “Is there a story behind it?” Rapunzel couldn’t help but smile a bit nervously as she avoided eye contact, meaning it probably wasn’t a happy memory. “You don’t have to - I get it,” the dragon whisperer quickly stammered. “I just think it’s cool, even the darker side of it.”

The blond looked up at him in shock, which made Hiccup look away uneasily. Was that something weird to say? He wasn’t good at talking to normal people it seemed. Then again she wasn’t exactly normal. “I-I just think having both restoration and destruction seems very balanced and probably hard to maintain yet you seem to do a pretty good job-” Rapunzel’s laugh was his queue to shut up, more than thankful she put him out of his awkward misery.

“You’re the first person to call that side of me cool,” she said, obviously amused. The shyness from earlier seemed to disappear as she stood, her shoulder completely healed.

Thank goodness.

“I think it is,” Hiccup said again, this time more confidently as he sat back down and undid the makeshift prosthetic, folding the cloth up a bit more in hopes of making it slightly more comfortable before they started walking. “Sure it destroys things, and can probably severely hurt someone, but that power can sometimes be more of a blessing than healing.” He glanced up as Rapunzel rose a confused eyebrow, thankfully not seeming offended, so he continued. “Just look what you did for us. Healing wouldn’t have driven those men away - trust me, I know how stubborn they are,” he said, sounding annoyed and exhausted, which only made Rapunzel giggle again. “And if you’re ever trapped you can use that to literally ‘escape your earthly chains,’ so long as you’re the only one there.”

The princess gently tucked some hair behind her ear as she shifted her gaze to the ground, seeming to agree. “Yeah… I have used it for some instances similar to that. I was even able to save one of my friend’s dad. But you,” she said, her curious eyes moving back to him, excitement seeming to gleam off her. “You called those Changelings, didn’t you? The soldiers from both camps made it law to keep you gagged!” This time Hiccup’s demeanor changed, knowing there was no hiding it from her.

Was it really okay for him to be out here and not on Berk where he could keep the dragon’s secrets safe? More and more people were learning about the connection humans could have with dragons. Part of him couldn’t be happier as it was always his dream to see the two living in harmony. Yet the rational part of him knew that was also incredibly dangerous. Even if he felt like a prisoner on Berk, maybe… maybe it was for the best.

“Hiccup?” Rapunzel asked, snapping him back into reality. She was in front of him now, looking really concerned. He could trust her, he knew that as an absolute certainty. Yet as he opened his mouth, something stopped him - a chilling realization.

Someone was speaking to him earlier, someone from the Nightmares.

“Shhh,” he quickly hushed, going on full alert. Sensing his uneasiness, she grabbed a handful of hair and cautiously looked around as well. “Someone was talking to me earlier, someone I couldn’t see.”

“What? Who?” She gasped, confused.

“Someone from the Nightmares,” he glowered, hearing approaching hooves from nearly every direction.

Shit - they wasted too much time gathering themselves.

As much as he hated to rely on dragons he didn’t know how to fully train, Changelings were their only chance to ‘disappear’ for a while. Letting out a changeling call, he grabbed Rapunzel’s wrist and ran in the only direction he couldn’t really hear a horse approaching. Of course that didn’t mean anything.

“I know it’s probably hard to trust someone you just met, but if we want to avoid being captured again , you have to do what I say.”

Cold - it was starting to get so, so cold.

Shit. Were they Nightmare soldiers? If so, he couldn’t let them snuff out her light. In fact, he refused to let that happen.

Reaching around his neck, he pulled the ticking thing necklace off and held it out to her. “Here, take this-” he said, watching her grab it with a confused look. “Keep it safely around your neck. All you have to do is imagine someone or a place you want to see, and it’ll guide you there. If we get separated, I want you to use that to get home.”

Her head shot up after processing the words, looking hurt yet determined. “What? Separated? I’m not going to leave you - we’re gonna get through this together!”

But she had no clue what they were up against.

Something pulled the cloth free that was wedged between his limb and the half assed clump of wood on the makeshift prosthetic, making him groan in immense discomfort.

The horses hooves grew even closer, the sound of men commanding them to go even faster now audible.

“I’ll be okay, I have someone coming for me, remember?” He said, taking a deep breath he pictured Jack with one of his signature stupid grins as he felt something start tugging on the rope that bound the lump of wood to his limp. “If I can’t get out of this mess myself, I know he’ll save me. I believe in him.”

The trees, he could hear the leaves shake and tremble as something swooped over them, nearing them from behind. “Protect her, I beg of you!” He cried in dragonese. With all his strength, he stopped running and swung Rapunzel forward. With a cry she catapulted forward, losing her footing before she just - vanished. The trees screamed in agony as something pulled upward, barely missing them.

For just a moment Hiccup let out a choked laugh, not believing that worked as he turned, feeling the rope pulled free.

He couldn’t move, and that was okay.

As much as he wanted to disappear with Rapunzel, he had a feeling that wouldn't be wise. What happened back at the Mother’s Arms Camp, whatever that Nightmare did to him, he felt it somehow bound a Nightmare to him. If he himself accepted help from a dragon, the Nightmares would know, and that was something he couldn't risk.

“Okay, if that’s how you wanna play,” he grumbled as he quickly reached down and picked up the rope, retying it. The horses slowly came to a stop all around him as he stood back up, grabbing a rather strong stick that was at his feet. His breath caught in his throat as the soldiers weren’t wearing Nightmare robes, no, these were uniforms he’s never seen before. The base color was black with everything outlined blue - even the helmets. Red stripes were coming up from the chest plate, boots, and even the shoulder blades.

One of them with long black hair made their horse take a step forward, his posture straightening into one of authority. “You’re a hard one to get a hold of, but nonetheless, you are now property of Claude Frollo of the Josas Kingdom.”

Hiccup couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as he let out a small laugh. “Property? Sorry, I’m no one’s property.”

The man’s glassy gray eyes narrowed, unamused. “You were stripped of your freedom when the Mother’s Arms healed then sold you. You are nothing but a tool and object in which our King will give you purpose.” Hiccup’s eyes widened, recalling something Mother Gothel said to him:

“Selling you to the Nightmares means you won’t have your free will for long, and selling you to Callaghan’s army means they’ll slaughter you considering the way they were talking. The other group of people are barbaric ruffians,” she tisked, her eyes narrowing. “I rarely like to work with their kind. However, I could sell you to the sex-crazed Warlord who’s taken a liking to your description, you’d at least stay alive with him.” The dragon whisperer couldn’t help but groan, feeling disgusted. These must be men who worked for that sex crazed warlord she mentioned. As horrifying as the revelation is, that meant that they really did not have a kingdom, and this man wasn’t really a King.

He could still get out of this.

“I have my own purpose in life, and it’s not to bemuse your master,” he growled as he swung the stick around, picking up momentum and getting in a fighting stance.

Eight armed soldiers against a cursed one legged viking with a stick for self defense - there’s been worse odds.

“Don’t struggle, our Lord prefers his toys undamaged.” The leader looked up to where Rapunzel disappeared, his eyes narrowing. “Where’d the girl go?”

So they were interested in her too - thank gods he got her out of here. “I donno, her hair starting glowing again and she just vanished.” He simply shrugged.

The man frowned more, seeming annoyed. “Don’t worry, our Lord has a way of making people talk. Now, fetch.”

The other men, still on their horses, moved forward, making him curse. One of them was getting a net, another was loading a dart in some kind of paper looking straw.

First thing first, he had to get rid of the horses. If there was one dragon call he knew that scared animals on land, it was the call of a dragon that burrowed deep into the ground. Hopefully there weren’t any nearby that could hear him. According to his observations so far, there were none.

Hopefully.

Taking a deep breath, he let it loose. In an instant the horses bucked in fright, the net falling from the man’s hands along with the dart in the others as the horses all ran. Some of the riders stayed on, four fell on their backs.

Goodie, the numbers were literally halved. Without wasting a beat, he leaped forward and kicked the helmet off the soldier nearest to him. Dazed, the soldier did nothing as he smacked him hard on the side of the face, knocking him out cold. A crunch from the stick made him bite his bottom lip nervously.

Three more to go - he could do this as long as the Nightmare left his prosthetic alone.

Picking up a few rocks, he threw one at a soldier near him, hitting the helmet hard. The man gasped as he quickly took it off, trying to silence the horrible ringing that started giving him horrible tinnitus. Swinging the staff around to gain momentum, he swiped it under the man’s legs, making the man fall right back on his back. A blur of motion to his right made him gasp as he swung up, deflecting the man’s staff from hitting him as he side kicked the other man in the head, hoping it knocked him out. He didn’t have time to check as he parried another strike that tried to trip him, slamming his own stick into the other man’s knees. With a yelp he fell to one knee, giving Hiccup an opportunity to hit him in the jugular.

With a choked gasp the man fell back, the wound bleeding a bit. He wasn’t dead, just unconscious thankfully as he picked up the staff the soldier was wielding and growled, finding it rather heavy. Realizing it would only slow him down, he dropped it and stared at the last man, the leader of the group, glowering at his laughing face.

“Who would’ve thought a defected tool like you had this much fight in them,” he smirked, obviously finding Hiccup’s offended face amusing.

“I’m resourceful, not defective,” Hiccup barked back, twirling the stick to gain some momentum. A crack made him wince slightly as he saw the first few inches cave, hanging onto the rest of the stick by a few strands. The man only seemed to chuckle at the image, obviously amused.

“Even your resourcefulness is defective, it would seem,” he said as he stood up straight, no longer in a fighting stance. It only angered Hiccup more. “Maybe he’ll make you a more useful tool after I give him the retrieval report.”

The dragon whisperer opened his mouth just as he felt something prick the back of his neck. Cursing under his breath he glanced behind him, seeing two men on foot with skid marks on their faces from falling from their horses a little further up. They were all glowering darkly at him. One of them still had the straw from where they shot the dart.

He still had some time.

Turning to the leader, he charged. The man merely chuckled as he took out a staff and blocked Hiccup’s swing, letting Hiccup press against him so their faces were a few inches apart. “Still fighting even though it’s hopeless?” He asked with a softening smirk. “You can feel it, can’t you? The way your head fogs over, the way your limbs start to get so heavy all you want to do is just, collapse-” he pushed heavily against Hiccup’s stick, the branch finally snapping in half. With a cry Hiccup stumbled back on his bottom, feeling the world spinning.

Shit - shit shit - not like this!

“If it’s any consolation, you’re the most challenging adversary we’ve had in a long time,” the leader said as he loomed over him. Hiccup bared his teeth as he closed his eyes and rolled forward between the man's legs. He nearly threw up, but the adrenaline kept him going.

With a surprised gasp the man turned just as Hiccup stumbled to his feet. With a loud roar of defiance, Hiccup swung one of the broken pieces of the staff against the man’s face. With a cry the man took a step back as Hiccup saw a little bit of red form on the man’s cheek as he regained his balance despite the way his eyes swam. There were three of them - no, there was only one of them, and he was rubbing the back of his hand against a rather deep scratch he made across his right left cheek.

Another prick - this time he felt it on the front of his neck as he groaned, feeling the liquid poor into him as he stumbled back like a drunkard. Shakingly he reached up and pulled the needle out, clenching it tightly in his hand with the pieces of his broken stick.

“Don’t worry defective tool, I forgive you for that,” the leader said, though he seemed less amused than before. “We’ll teach you the proper way.”

His eyes swam even more as his limbs started to shake. He didn’t want it to end here, he could handle this, he knew he could!

His good knee collapsed, forcing him to fall to one knee. Okay, maybe he couldn’t… for now at least. He wouldn't give up, he’d never give up.

‘I… believe in you, Jack,’ he mumbled as his world fell to black.

----

It’s cold, that’s the first thought that came to mind as he felt himself stir. Instantly he started to shiver, but it didn’t seem to matter. No cloth was brushing against his skin, making him blanch. He didn’t have any clothes on? And this smell - it was sickeningly sweet, it made it hard to think as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He was in a dimly lit room that oddly felt humid and smelled like weird oils. Then again, the sweet smell in the air made it hard to decipher what exactly he was smelling, let alone pinpoint where it was coming from.

Drugs, he realized after a frustrating moment. That sweet smell was probably some kind of drug that made it hard to think, let alone move.

Great. Just great.

Trying to move his arms, he groaned, feeling them numbly above him in chains. It was taking everything he had not to start coming to conclusions and panicking. If he succumbed to fear, it’d be over.

Taking a few deep shuddering breaths, he tried clearing his mind.

“They haven’t used you - yet,” he heard the same voice from earlier say, making him growl.

Oh right, with everything going on he forgot a Nightmare was attached to him. Wasn’t he lucky?

“Who are you?” He managed to slur out, hating how pathetic his voice sounded like this.

“Does that really matter?” The voice asked back. “The more important question is how are you going to get out of this mess?”

“You’re the reason I’m in it,” Hiccup barked back bitterly. “If you hadn’t touched my prosthetic-”

“You wouldn’t know the truth,” the voice finished for him, making the dragon whisperer roll his eyes.

“Oh yeah sure, what truth, hm? Enlighten me, oh messenger of dark despair,” he mocked.

The voice was silent for a moment before it hummed. “That’s a new one, I kind of like it. It fits quite well considering my message will bring you despair.”

“Oh, shocking,” Hiccup sarcastically remarked. “Try giving your message to someone who believes what you say.” Pulling on the chains, he groaned, not even sure why he tried. Metal, duh, it wouldn’t break that way. Damn the drugs messing with his usually logical brain.

“I had you captured so you could learn the truth the hard way,” the voice merely said. “Don’t worry, you aren’t in any danger. At any point in time, all you have to do is ask for help, and I’ll stop this - I’ll stop all of them.”

Hiccup’s eyebrows furrowed in suspicion, not understanding the other at all. Why would a Nightmare subject him to such a horrific situation, then claim to save him if he asked? It didn’t make any sense. “What truth are you talking about?” The dragon whisperer cautiously asked, knowing he was probably walking right into a trap.

The room grew even dimmer as the shadows started dancing along the walls. Hiccup had to squint his tainted eyesight as a figure started to hazily form. It was a tall man with gray skin and piercing yellow eyes with pitch black hair spiked upwards adorning a black robe that seemed to be made of shadows. For some reason the very sight of him made his heart beat faster in his chest as all his fears started intensifying.

What if he was already used? What if he was turned into a doll for someone else's enjoyment? What if he wasn’t strong enough and gave away all his dragon knowledge?

What if Jack gave up on him? - No, no he shut those thoughts down immediately before even more surfaced, making him glower at the shadow man infront of him. Whoever this was, they were powerful, maybe even more powerful than the Last Quarter Rank. But that would mean-

“You know what’s amusing?” The voice chimed in, cutting his thoughts off there. “Typically when someone is poisoned, I’m able to peer into their mind and form their Nightmares. But you - you’re different,” he said, the revelation slow yet horrifying. “No matter what I tried, you formed your own nightmares - nightmares I couldn’t even see. When you were conscious, I couldn’t even penetrate that thick skull of yours.”

Hiccup felt his breath catch in his throat.

He knew who this was.

“You even manage to break through my General’s influence and move when you were captured by the Mother’s Arms. Even though he was present to everyone else, you should’ve been frozen in place. Yet you weren’t.” His eyes narrowed. “Even after I had one of my men pour my influence into you, all it did was render you unconscious. Yet even in that state I couldn’t get so much as a glimpse of your dreams.” He came over to him, gently cupping his chin in his cold hand. “And why is that, hm? What makes you so special? I realized Jackson must’ve noticed this, after all, why else would he keep someone like you around?” His eyes softened into something darker, something that made him uneasy as the demon gently started moving his thumb against his freckled cheek. “Aside from being easy on the eyes, what stopped him from sending you away like he does to all the others?”

With a growl Hiccup yanked his head back, pulling free from the demigods grip. Pitch merely snorted as Hiccup felt rough cold fingertips against his bare sides, making his eyes widen in both fear and anger.

“Don’t touch me-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already been inside you, remember what I said earlier?” He smirked, making Hiccup feel both disgusted and violated. He didn’t want to think of being filled with dark influence in that way. “Besides, as I said, I’m here to help you realize the truth, that there’s something different about you, and that’s the only reason Jackson’s keep you around.”

“Don’t call him that,” Hiccup snapped as he used all his strength to swing his body slightly backwards in an attempt to get away from his touch. The demigod merely smirked, seeming amused as he took a steps away, bringing his hands back to himself.

“Jackson senses something off about you too, and knowing his curious nature, he wants to figure out what it is-”

“If you’re trying to make me turn my back on Jack, you’re wasting your breath,” he snapped, not wanting to hear it. “Nothing you say will change my mind about him.”

Pitch curled his lip before letting out a short laugh. “Oh, trust me, I’ve seen how stupidly stubborn you can be,” he said as he started circling him. “No-” Hiccup felt his breath hitch as those lips were at his ear, that hot breath making him want to kick him in the family jewel. “I’m just showing you that Jack is scared of you.”

Those forest green eyes couldn’t help but widen in shock at the statement, unable to help it as he spoke his thought out loud: “Scared… of me?”

No, that wasn’t possible.

“Like I said,” Pitch said as he swung around to face him again. “Not even I, who is stronger than Jack, can read or control you, no matter how hard I try.” Holding a hand out, black sand swirled out and formed a horse. “Not even with this.”

Fear thundered in his chest as he tried to fight it. Of course it didn’t matter. There was nothing he could do as Pitch pressed it to his chest. His entire body went numbly cold, his eyesight fading in and out - but only for a moment.

“Say you hate Jackson, now ,” the demigod ordered, his voice full of power. Numbly Hiccup stared at the black horse that looked like a tattoo on his chest as he waited to feel his lips move.

But nothing happened.

“I can’t even read your thoughts right now, and I’m the leader and source of power for the Nightmares,” Pitch said bitterly as he waved his hand. The horse tattoo dissolved into black sand that fell uselessly to the ground, allowing Hiccup to let out a relieved yet confused breath.

That… didn’t make any sense. There was nothing special about him - he didn’t even have a god parent! He was just a typical human being!

Pitch came close again, his hand once again gripping him by the chin. “What makes you so special, Hiccup Haddock?”

He… didn't know. It made no sense - Pitch wasn’t making any sense! Jack never said he was scared of him, in fact, he always seemed scared for him. Unless… that’s why he tried so hard to make him go back to Berk in the first place…?

“You don’t know either, do you?” Pitch asked as he tilted his head up him. “They’re coming.” He glanced back at what seemed to be a door a little bit aways, but it was too dark to really see clearly. “They bathed you, took measurements, examinations, then lathered you in lotions and oils.” Hiccup’s eyes widened in horror, desperately trying not to imagine so many people touching and violating his body. “They’re probably either gonna dress you up for their so called Lord, or he’s coming to see you in your natural state to decide your fate. But don’t worry, what I said before still stands.” His thumb gently started rubbing his cheek again, feeling the freckled one trembling a bit in fear and uncertainty. “When you finally realize Jack won’t save you, just call for me, and I’ll stop them in their tracks.”

That again - that’s the part he didn’t understand. “What do you have to gain from this? I could just ask for help without giving up on Jack - you can’t see into my thoughts.”

“True,” Pitch chuckled, seeming amused. “But when I step in to help, no one lives except you.” Hiccup’s eyes widened in shock, realizing what he meant.

If he asked for help, Pitch would kill everyone, including the innocent people here. “I’d never ask for your help, no matter what!” Hiccup snapped, which only made Pitch tisk.

“Oh Hiccup, how naive you are about the world. These people are even worse than me. You see, their methods are… invasive in a different way, and the others you call innocent? They’re all looking out for themselves, and will do anything to save their own skin. And I mean, anything .” Slowly he stood up straight and let go of his chin. “You’ll see how the world really is, my dear Hiccup. I’m just a call away.”

The door slammed open, and in that instant Pitch was gone. Glancing up, he saw a few people dressed in expensive colorful silks carrying various accessories and delicate fabrics.

“He’s awake!” He heard a woman gasp. “Do it, quickly! They say he’s aggressive!”

“I’m not-” he coughed out as the sweet scent got more intense. The effects were nearly instant as the world got hazier. In the dim flickering candle light, he barely made out women who now had masks over their faces as they cautiously approached him, a few staying by an odd banal plant by the door.

Their hands were brushing his skin, making him want to snap at them to stop, but not so much as a groan left his lips.

“-many freckles, how strange-”

“No, how glorious!”

“Thin, some muscle but not intruding at all-”

“He’s rather feminine, like some of the female warriors.”

“And his hair, it’s brown yet sparkles red!”

“Too bad there’s a scar on his chin-”

“And that he’s... defective.”

Defective… were they talking about his leg? That didn’t make him defective, he was still capable without it!

Hands were on his hips, so many hands-

He tried to move, tried to tell them to back off, but his body wouldn’t respond. He lay limbless as they continued. Like this, he couldn't even start hyperventilating, the drug was keeping his body too calm. Even when he heard a loud thud and a battle cry a little bit aways, his body remained calm.

‘Relax… you can handle this,’ he shuddered to himself. ‘You just have to hold out until Jack gets here.’

It felt like an eternity, but those hands left him as they all went silent. Did they finally leave?

“What… a fine shell,” he heard an older voice muster. “The red matches his rare hair well, I can see why you had trouble picking between red and green, they both suit him well. Though the green would really make these exquisite freckles pop even under the veils-” Hiccup wanted to stiffen as he felt a cold hand brush against his belly button, though the drugs prevented him from doing so. “And the gold really brings out the color of his skin! Like this, he looks like a phoenix taking human form!”

A phoenix… really? That was something he definitely thought he’d never be compared to. Guess it was better than some other animals.  

“These emerald jewels are really fine touches-” fingers forced one of his eyes open, his blurry vision making it hard to see the man’s features. “What a fine green! Yes, these jewels are perfect - he’s perfect!”

“Lord Follo, if I may interrupt,” the leader from the ambush said, making anger rise within Hiccup. Of course he was here. “Though I can see you’re quite excited to lay with this defect, may I remind you he took out the me and the scouts nearly single handedly? It’s too dangerous to let your desire rush things. If anything were to happen to you…”

“Your concern touches me, just as I desire to touch him-” those hands were holding his sides, those rough fingers running up and down them. They didn’t stop there though, they traveled further down to caress his ass The dragon whisperer willed with all his might to move - to speak - to do anything to retaliate.

But nothing - absolutely nothing worked.

‘Don’t freak out, there’s still a chance - there’s still time!’ Hiccup tried to reassure himself.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed since everything happened, but surely Jack was almost here. The demigod would never let something so horrific happen to him just as he wouldn’t let anything like this happen to him.

“-in your care until he’s properly trained,” the man said as Hiccup slowly tuned back into the world. “But I don’t want his body too damaged. Only do harm that can heal, no more defects on him, got it?”

“Yes sir, as you wish.”

“How naive of the Lord,” he heard Pitch say. No one else reacted, meaning he was the only one who could hear him. “That man just wants you for himself. I give it until tonight before he takes his turn with you.” He chuckled into his ear, making Hiccup squeeze his eyes tightly shut.

That won’t happen. Jack was going to save him, he was sure of it.

----

It felt like only moments after he fell that the world started coming back to the demigod.

“-don’t have time to babysit!” A female voice muffly yelled, obviously annoyed.

“I know but you’re forgetting two major factors!” The male’s voice from earlier hollered back, seeming just as annoyed. “One, this guy saved Pascal, he might have some information, and two, he’s a demigod, Cassandra, a demi- GOD . I know we’re more than capable of getting Blondie back on our own but having godly-like powers as back up would be nice!”

Oh, so that’s why they didn’t just leave him for dead, they wanted to use his powers. Sadly he didn’t have time to entertain them.

Very sluggishly he started to sit up, his entire body achy and sore. He hadn’t used that much power in so long, he couldn’t help the way his face paled. “How… long have I been out?” He instinctively asked no one in particular. The two strangers looked at each other, the female only seeming more annoyed and the male giving a nervous smile.

“Two days and a quarter?” The man guessed, though went silent as he saw the panic overwhelm Jack.

That was technically nearly three whole days. So much could’ve happened in three whole days, including Hiccup giving up on him if he wasn’t dead yet!

“Toothless-” he looked around frantically, seeing the dragon sitting between the two humans eating a seasoned fish. The dragon looked up at him with a face that read ‘finally’ before swallowing the rest whole.

“He’s fine,” the dragon reassured, trying to use simple words so the demigod would understand and stop panicking. A hyperventilating demigod was useless. “Need - --- dragon, ---- --- friends,” he motioned to the humans and the chameleon that was on the man’s shoulder.

The humans behind the dragon looked down at the reptile before back at the demigod, both shocked. “You understand this thing?” The man gasped. “That’s both amazing and horrifying! Then again, you are a demigod so I guess these kind of things are normal for you.”

Jack shook his head, not having time for idle chit chat as he stood. Toothless groaned, hating how impatient Jack was. If words weren’t getting through, he’d have to draw, which was the way Hiccup used to communicate with dragons until he perfected the language.

Grabbing a stick between his teeth, he started drawing in the sand, gathering everyone’s attention as he recalled what Pascal told them earlier.

The first drawing was of a camp. He looked up at everyone to be sure they were looking before drawing flames. Taking a step to the right, he made another drawing of Jack holding a cage with a blob in it, to which everyone deduced was the chameleon. The next drawing was of them flying over two stick figures who were waving for help.

“Hey, we never asked for help,” the female said, but Toothless ignored her and kept drawing. The next one was two stick figures helping one laying down, then of a weird circle creature that must’ve been the chameleon drawing like he was. He drew a stick figure with really long hair with the blob on her shoulder, then an arrow pointing to a figure with a square on his left foot who was obviously Hiccup. He then circled the last picture, pointing at it as he looked at Jack, hoping he’d get it.

Thankfully Jack was good at charades because Toothless was a horrible artist. “Is this girl a friend of yours?” He asked the other two, who both nodded.

“She was kidnapped by the Mother’s Arms almost a month ago and we’ve been tracking them ever since. She keeps leaving red herrings to throw us off,” the woman angrily mumbled as she tightly clenched her fists.

“We finally found their main camp, but a few of the escaped prisoners said another army took her and a man captive and headed in this direction.” The man said as he crossed his arms. “They’re pretty sloppy, they aren’t even trying to cover their tracks,” the short haired female pointed to the tire tracks of a wagon and horses hooves. If they weren’t taking any precautions, it meant they were in a rush. These two didn’t pose a big threat, which meant something else did.

“I went into the camp and saw at least three different types of soldiers in there, all of which are enemies. They were probably being attacked as they fled,” his eyes darkened, hoping beyond hope they didn’t accidentally hit the captives while trying to retrieve them.

Both of their faces paled, the male swallowing thickly. “What armies?”

The demigod diverted his gaze to the fire they set up for lunch, surprised they’d take such a risk and break during precious sunlight hours. Then again they probably had to since they were hauling him around. “Other than the Mother’s arms, I saw Callaghan’s army, and the Nightmares.” Both of them, even the chameleon stiffened in horror.

“The Nightmares…” the female mumbled, not wanting to think of what they’d do if they got a hold of Rapunzel. “We have to move, and fast.” Getting to her feet, she kicked dirt on the fire and picked up the bag close to her. “No more breaks until nightfall.”

The man groaned, looking miserable but didn’t question her as he picked up the other bag. “We walked all through the night! Without my beauty sleep, Rapunzel won’t even recognize me!”

Ignoring the comment, the lady looked to Jack, her dark eyes narrowing. “You don’t have to travel with us, but since they have both of our friends, we’ll benefit from working together.”

Jack pursed his lips, not sure if that was such a good idea. After all they were on foot, he could fly much faster and cover more ground. Yet it was using his powers that put him out of commission for nearly three whole days in the first place. Maybe it would be better if he conserved his energy just in case a powerful Nightmare did have Hiccup. He still wasn’t fully rested...

“Fine, but I’ll rally up some horses, it’ll take too long to go by foot,” he said as he let the wind levitate him. “What’s your names?”

“I’m Eugene Fitzherbert,” the man said, obviously happy the demigod was joining them. “And this is our ice cold demoness-”

“Cassandra. We’re from Corona,” she interrupted.

Corona, he heard the stories. Thankfully they were known as being a peaceful kingdom with trustworthy people, which made him feel even more confident in his choice to travel with them. “I’m Jack Frost, and before you freak out, no, the monster died years ago,” he reassured when he saw her tense. “If your friend’s with mine, she’s in serious danger. Keep following the tracks and I’ll bring you horses. We don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

Without another word he flew off, trying to suppress the panic that still made his heart race.

What if he needed to fly to him at full speed? He had no clue where he was, but it would be better than traveling by foot. Then again, he still felt tired… resting was the best choice so he could actually save him.

Right…?

“He’s fine,” he heard Toothless mumble beside him, making the demigod blink over at him. How would he know if he was fine? He wasn’t with him!

The dragon rolled his eyes, knowing what the stupid human was thinking. “Hiccup is stupid, but also smart and strong,” he said, trying to keep it simple enough that even Jack could understand.

The demigod bit his bottom lip. Of course he knew Hiccup was really smart and fairly strong. There was no doubt he was doing everything he could to prolong whatever they were trying to do to him. What really scared him was the capture’s motives and plans, and what they had in store for Hiccup.

----

It was so hard trying to process everything, from the broken skeletal figures who were forced to pleasure nobles to torturing innocent people for ‘fun,’ the dragon whisperer was relieved he still hadn’t eaten anything so he couldn't throw up as he was given a tour of ‘what’s to come.’

He was fairly certain he recognized a few of the people the man called ‘handlers’ by their clothes and insignia. One had the Hamada Brother logo on their bag who looked strikingly familiar to someone who was working on the Safe House with them. He couldn’t be too sure, but he definitely recognized some people from Zootopia. It was hard not to, and he’d rather forget what he was seeing them do.

There was a man he nearly skipped over in his head. It was the same man who was telling others at a pub about a thief who had kidnapped a little girl, then proceeded to say it wasn’t his first victim. Jack nearly froze him and his buddies as they left.

Now Hiccup wished he had.

The most sickening part of it all aside from how brainwashed these people were were the dead bodies. Some deaths looked purposeful while others looked like it was done ‘in the moment.’

Burn - he wanted all these filthy people to burn. Even when the victims were finally free, he wasn’t sure what they’d even do. That didn’t mean he’d give up on them - he’d never give up on them.

“Lord Follo reserved you for him and I, so luckily you won’t be put on that kind of duty,” he said, and sadly Hiccup didn’t need him to elaborate. “You’re fairly strong, I’ll have you start corpse duty.”

Finally the man set him down, Hiccup just realizing they gave him a prosthetic as he stood on wobbly drugged feet. Glancing down at it, he saw it was mostly covered by fabric, probably because everyone here thought it was some kind of horrifying defect.

Disgusting sexist prejudice assholes. Yet they saw nothing wrong with their whole operation they were running. Made perfect sense.

As much as he wanted to make a fuss, he didn’t dare do it with innocent people nearby. He merely did his job no matter how hard it was to really move his limbs, the medicine still heavily affecting him. Besides, they gave him corpse duty. There was no way he wasn’t going to honor the ones who perished here. Some were even younger than he was.

At some point his eyes met with a woman with long tangled blond hair with golden hooped earrings and a matching necklace. Despite doing what she was told, her face was filled with burning determination. All it took was meeting her eyes for a second to know she was an ally.

Pitch suddenly chuckled softly in his ear, greatly confusing him. Before he could even ask what was so funny, he felt arms grab him. Instinctively he moved and elbowed them in the chest, which only caused another person to grab his attacking arm. Something pricked his neck, making him hiss under his breath.

Not again.

“Oh defect, fighting back is a big no.” Hiccup gasped as what felt like fire started streaming through his veins. This wasn’t the same numbing drug from last time-! “No matter what someone does to you.” His handler whispered into his ear, chapped disgusting lips brushing the skin. The dragon whisperer turned to him with a glare as another man punched him hard in the side, knocking the breath out of him.

“Now now, Lord Follo said to be gentle on the defect’s body. He wants to keep it in pristine condition... for now.” The man huffed before storming away, making his handler chuckle. “The man just wanted a feel. After all, you have everyone looking at you, including the slaves.” The dragon whisperer couldn’t help it as he glanced up, seeing it was true. “I’m surprised they didn’t beg to have time with you.” Hiccup tried to shrug him off his burning and crumbling body, but all that did was make him go weak in the knees. The handler merely propped him up by the hips and held his chin in his hand in order to force him to look at all the onlookers. The blond girl was looking down, ignoring the commotion and continuing her work. “They all want you, even the slaves. Maybe Lord Follo will allow it after he’s grown tired of you.”

“I told you,” Pitch only said to him, making Hiccup struggle even more despite the pain. “Can you hear them? They slaves are trying to talk their owners into requesting you so they can get a break. Cruel, but smart on their part.” The pained dragon whisperer tried to ignore him as he focused on the pain, but his voice just wouldn’t go away. “You’ll end up just like them… mindless, numb - a perfect shell.”

Despite the agonizing burning attacking every nerve, Hiccup moved down and bit the man’s hand hard , making him cry out as he slammed his head against his. Sadly he didn’t even feel the pain as he merely elbowed him in the family jewel, his handler’s howls of pain echoing as he felt another dart hit him in the arm, pulling him into unconsciousness.

Anything to get out of being subjected to that kind of torture. He’d rather feel physical pain than be subjected to that hell anyday. If he kept acting up, maybe they’d prolong it long enough for Jack to find him.

----

They covered a surprisingly good amount of ground in the short time they had the horses, which made Jack hopeful. Toothless was even flying a bit ahead of them to warn them if he saw anything to give Jack some time to rest.  

“So who’s this friend of yours? I think you mentioned her name’s Rapunzel?” Jack asked the other two, trying to fill the awkward silence between them. They were obviously weary of him, not that he could blame them. He was still weary of them too.

For a moment they didn’t answer as they shared uneasy looks, making Jack groan. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he intervened. “My friend’s name is Hiccup Haddock. He purposely got kidnapped to free the people the Mother’s Arms kidnapped from Zootopia.”

Eugene couldn’t help but burst into laughter, and if Jack didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he saw a small smirk on Cassandra’s face. “I’m sorry, did you say his name is hiccup ?” He managed out between chuckles. The demigod merely smiled a bit as he nodded, watching as Eugene laughed some more. At least he was getting some reaction out of them. “I’ve heard some pretty unfortunate names but man does that one take the cake!”

“Fitzherbert,” Cassandra warned before tossing a glance over at Jack. “That’s a pretty ballsy move.” “I know,” Jack said with a proud fondness he couldn’t hide. “From what I saw at camp, most of the prisoners did escape, but Mother Gothel must’ve told the warlords about him, which is why he didn’t.”

Cassandra seemed to flinch at that as she avoided complete eye contact. If Jack didn’t know any better, he’d think she felt guilty with the way her back was slouched and the way her eyes were cast a certain way. Eugene looked over at her sadly, as if wishing he could comfort her in some way, though didn’t know how.

“What does her telling them have anything to do with what happened?” She managed to ask after a few moments.

“It’s complicated,” Jack started, not really sure how to explain it to them without going into detail. The less people that knew the better. “The Nightmares are after him because he’s my friend. They want to use him against me. As for Callaghan’s army, he sort of came up with a way to rid them from a village, but now they want his knowledge to repeat it for their own benefit.”

Was that too vague? The other two simply nodded, leaving him to believe it surprisingly wasn’t.

“I bet him and Varian would get along,” Eugene said with a smile, as if trying to lighten the mood.

Not really knowing how to respond, Jack let out a small awkward chuckle. “Probably. He gets along with just about anyone.”

“Princess of Corona,” Cassandra suddenly said, making Jack blink over to her. “She was the host for a powerful magical item called the sun drop since she was born. It… was supposed to be gone, but… so was she .”

“She?” The demigod asked, noting the dark tone in her voice.

Eugene looked between the two as Cassandra rode a little faster, trying to separate herself from the conversation now. “Gothel,” he quietly clarified, keeping his eyes on her to make sure she was okay. “Her mother.”

Mother?! The demigod couldn’t help the way he glanced over at her again. He hadn’t seen Gothel recently, so he couldn’t really make out the similarities.

“Long story short, the sun drop and moon stone were sent back to where they belong, but somehow Gothel came back even though we were sure the bitch was dead and poof, Rapunzel’s hair became enchanted with the sun drop again.”

There was a very complicated story behind that, he was sure of it. “What does the sun drop let her do?”

“Honestly? It’s all a bit confusing, but she mostly uses it to heal.”

Jack decided to stop there as he saw how uncomfortable the topic was making both of them. At least he had a better idea as to who was with Hiccup and what kind of danger she might find herself in. If the Nightmares found out about her power, they’d want to snuff out her light. And if Callaghan’s army found her? They’d enslave her to heal all of them. Thankfully they wouldn’t kill or sell her though.

And if she could heal, that meant there was a pretty good chance he was free from the knife wound and Nightmare poison.

“Hey Jackass!” He heard Toothless wail from ahead. Without warning he jumped off the horse and let the wind carry him, his eyes narrowing as he saw Toothless start to veer off the path.

Catching up to him, he felt his breath catch in his throat. Bodies of soldiers lay dead with their only wagon in pieces, but they weren't just any soldiers. No, they bore the insignia of a horned viking helmet with spikes jutting out of the top.

“The Outcasts,” Jack hissed as he landed, quickly looking through the wreckage. Toothless dropped down next to him and helped, letting out a whining noise a few seconds after.

“Hiccup,” the dragon mumbled quietly, making Jack look up from where he was searching, only for his heart to stop. In the dragon’s mouth was Hiccup’s prosthetic - there was no mistaking the unique design.

So many scenarios ran through his mind, so many horrific ones that always ended with Hiccup’s death. Desperately he shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, recalling the night of their separation:

“I’m well aware of the risks of war, I can do this,” Hiccup said, giving Jack an encouraging smile. “If they take my prosthetic, I’ll find a way to make a temporary one. If they hurt me, I’ll make them think I’m weaker than I am. If they starve and dehydrate me, I'll exaggerate my condition to convince them to give me a larger portion – I���ll be fine Jack; there’s a benefit to having a fishbone like body.”

Right… Hiccup knew what he was doing. Even without a prosthetic, he was a force to be reckoned with, and even if he couldn’t cause chaos, he knew how to stall until Jack got there. He had to believe that in order to stay level headed right now.

Bringing the prosthetic close to his lips, he clenched it tightly. “Hang in there Hic, I’m close, I promise.”

Numbly he looked around the scene a bit more carefully, trying to capture the full story. Among the bodies he saw not only Outcasts, but Callaghan’s army too. It was safe to say The Outcasts smuggled him out of the burning camp only to have the other army swoop in to try to take their prize. It was impossible to tell who was victorious though.

Toothless gently dropped the prosthetic infront of him, looking up at him sadly. The dragon was worried too, he saw it in the way his body trembled slightly. “He’s fine, I know he is,” Jack reassured as he gently pet the dragon behind the ears. The reptile closed his eyes as he let out a few whines, only to stiffen.

The demigod instantly froze too, straining his ears to listen. “Dragons,” Toothless sniffled into a hiss. Jack strained his ears even more along with his eyes, not picking up on anything.

They were being watched though - he could feel those hypnotic eyes bearing into them.

“Ready to exit stage left?” Toothless didn’t know what that meant, but jumped on Jack’s shoulder anyway. Green acid shot at them from four different directions, the wind pulling them out just in time.

“Wow, okay, maybe we should’ve waited-!” He heard Euguene’s voice and cursed under his breath. Looking down he saw speedy taloned footprints being pressed in some loose dirt heading straight for Cassandra and Euguene who just rode up on the scene.

Shit, invisible dragons-! “Changelings - run!” Jack cried. They both commanded their horses to turn

The footprints quickened

They were out of time.

Taking a deep breath, the demigod commanded the wind to press on their backs, shooting them and their horses into the air. It took a lot out of him to do this, but it was the only way.

Their screams followed them up next to Jack as he willed them and himself forward, straining his eyes and ears in case one of the dragons realized where they were.

“Th-thanks for the save,” Cassandra said, finding Eugene’s bluing face amusing despite the near death experience. “Did you find anything?”

“Hiccup’s prosthetic,” he said, putting it in his pocket as he willed them forward, trying to get as far away as possible. “They were captured by people who knew him well, meaning I probably can’t track him,” he cursed under his breath. If Terrible Terrors couldn’t find him, maybe they’d have to rely on a Rumblehorn. Hiccup mentioned they were the best trackers when they first met. The only problem was he had no clue how to find one, let alone train one. Toothless was really helpful and capable of convincing a Terrible Terror to help, but a Rumblehorn? Probably not.

“How are you tracking him?” Cassandra asked, an idea forming. “Was it with that other dragon?”

“Yeah, but I bet they masked his scent knowing I’d be tracking him,” he grumbled, frustrated.

“What if we used Raps’s scent?” Cassandra proposed, gaining Jack’s interest. “If they’re like most enemies we come across, they probably don’t see her as a threat, meaning there’s a chance they didn’t cover her scent.”

The demigod hummed in thought, honestly not knowing if the Outcasts and Callaghan’s army were known to be sexist or not. They were both pretty dumb, he remembered that much. “Let’s try it. They both weren’t there, meaning there’s still a good chance they’re still together. Do you have something important with her scent?”

Both Eugene and Cassandra thought for a moment before Eugene’s face lit up. “Oh Cass, do you still have the flower hair clippy thing you got for her?”

Her eyes widened as she quickly reached into her pocket, a sad smile befalling her face as she stared at the beautiful pink flower clip she got for Rapunzel right before she was kidnapped. “She wore it for a whole day.”

“That should work,” the demigod said as he delicately took the clip in his hands. Now all they needed was another Terrible Terror and hope Hiccup was still with her.

----

When he woke again, he was back in the cell from before, his hands once again chained above his head as the drugs made it hard to think.

Great.

“Do you see how hopeless your situation is now?” Pitch’s voice whispered against his ear, making him groan.

Not this again. He wouldn’t let this go on.

“Actually, it gives me a sense of hope,” Hiccup mumbled, feeling the medicine wasn’t as strong as last time. The demigod couldn’t help the way he laughed, finding this amusing.

“Hopeful? That looked hopeful to you?”

“Yes,” he said as he pulled on the chains a bit, finding they were just as tight as last time. “Because I know I can do better this time.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Pitch mumbled, sounding bored. “Everyone thinks they can be a hero-” “I don’t want to be a hero,” Hiccup interrupted as he pulled even harder at the restraints. “I just do what I think is right.”

Pitch couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips. “Is there really a difference?”

“Well, literally speaking, the word means protector or defender, given it’s a greek word-”

“A chatty bookworm too, no wonder he likes you so much,” Pitch interrupted, amused.

Hiccup rolled his eyes, wishing he’d just leave him alone already. “I don’t care what people label me as, hero, annoyance, useless - it doesn’t matter. What matters is I stay true to what I believe in, and I certainly don’t believe in you.” Darkness swirled in Pitch’s eyes as that teasing smirk finally fell. The room grew dimmer as the King of Shadows turned his back to him, making the dragon whisperer slightly uneasy.

“You really think you can help these miserable bags of flesh?” He asked with a mocking tone. “You, alone, against a whole army?”

Hiccup bit his bottom lip, knowing this was Pitch’s true presence. “All of them? No, but I can help some, and that’s all that matters.”

Pitch turned to face him again, his annoyed frown slowly lifting into a small challenging smile. “Fine,” he said, snapping his fingers. The hold around his wrists suddenly vanished. With a surprised gasp he fell to his hands and knees, somehow stopping himself from falling flat on his face. “I’ll give you a chance to save these lost souls, but don’t expect me to help you unless you beg for it.”

Hiccup slowly sat up, the medicine nearly making him throw up now that his body was physically moving. “I don’t need your help,” he said as he slowly gazed around the room. Despite being drugged the whole time, he made sure to be attentive. In every room he saw today, including his own, was a banal looking plant. Most castles loved to show off plants with beautiful flowers, so why were they using these boring looking ones?

Unless they had some benefit.

Crawling over to it, and with some difficulty, he finally managed to grab a few leaves. Throwing one in his mouth, he swallowed it and stuffed the others in his waistband, hoping they wouldn't fall out. If something happened and he couldn’t get to one of the other plants located around the castle, he wanted to be sure he had a few for backup.

“So you noticed the drug suppressor, I’m impressed.” Hiccup merely ignored him as he kept focused on his goal.

Now for the hard part - he had to find the girl with wild hair from the courtyard. With so many chains on her, she was probably still undergoing training like him, meaning there was a chance she was nearby.

“I bet you won’t even find a way out of this room,” Pitch mocked from the shadows, but Hiccup ignored him again. Like mentioned before, the dragon whisperer made sure he paid close attention to everything that happened, meaning he noticed something Pitch obviously didn’t.

Taking a deep breath, he struggled to his feet. Surprisingly the room didn’t spin like before and his feet remained fairly stable considering he couldn’t walk at all moments ago. Maybe the plant’s scent had some clearing properties too.  

Stumbling the first few steps, he clumsily made it to the door and pressed his ear against it.

Silence - he didn't hear so much as clinking metal, let alone anyone talking. For once the odds seemed to be in his favor.

For some reason that didn’t comfort him at all.

“It’s useless-” Pitch stopped as the door slowly crept open when the freckled one pulled, making him growl. “What idiots,” he grumbled as he stepped back into the shadows.

Hiccup was more than relieved he finally shut up as he looked down the hall, seeing no one but dozens of cell doors. Frustration started slithering in his heart. There was no way he could check all these cells without someone hearing him, and he couldn't exactly call out either.

There had to be some way to find her before they realized he was missing.

Maybe he should start with the first cell and see what came from checking it. When they were forcing him into clothes, he could’ve sworn he vaguely heard a shouting female further away. With how thick these walls were, there was a good chance she was in the room next to his.

Yeah right, like he’d have that much luck. Whoever was in the room though might have some valuable information.

Taking very light steps, he very slowly started to push on the door. Just like his, it wasn’t locked, leading him to believe the soldiers were far too cocky.

That would definitely come in handy.

Peeking his head in, he couldn’t believe his luck. There chained to the wall just as he was, was the girl with long trusseled blonde hair with golden hoop earrings that matched the green beaded necklace along her neck and wrist. The closer he got, he realized her ankles were chained to the floor as well.

“Freckles?” She asked as her ferocious expression melted into confusion. “How’d you get out?”

Hiccup took note in the way her face was scrunched at the sides, giving him the impression that her pride was hurt. “It doesn’t matter,” he quickly whispered as he slid into the room and closed the door behind him. Pressing his ear against it, he listened again.

No one. Good.

“I’m Hiccup,” he said as he slowly made his way over, trying his hardest to prevent his prosthetic from clinking too loud against the floor. “And you?”

His answer made her narrow her eyes in suspicion as that rather frightening expression from earlier came back. “How do I know you aren’t a trap?” She asked, obviously not letting it go.

“Cause why would I want to be here especially wearing this?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. The girl couldn’t help but nod, seeming to believe that answer at least. “Still, how did you get out?!” She tugged on the chains on her wrists and ankles in annoyance. “Not even I can get out, and I can get out of almost anything.”

“Oh for the love of-” he rolled his eyes before taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself. They didn’t have a lot of time and she was wasting it on questions?

“Someone helped me,” he said, glaring at the darkest corner of the room. “Even though I could’ve gotten out myself.”

The girl couldn’t help but snort. “Someone helped you? That’s not suspicious at all!” She mocked.

“I’m cursed, does that work?!” Hiccup finally snapped, losing a little bit of patience. “This will probably have a really bad ending unless my friend gets here soon, but I refuse to sit back and let myself be treated like this.”

The smile slowly fell from her lips as her eyes never left his face. She must’ve found it convincing because she let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, I trust you… for now,” she said. “But if your cursed ass gets us killed I’ll murder you!” “Sounds fair,” Hiccup couldn’t help but smile, relieved she was smarter than to put up too much of a fight. “I’m gonna look at the chains a moment, okay?” He warned as he came forward, studying the metal. It was surprisingly made well, which is probably why they felt cocky enough to keep the doors unlocked. Only a key could get these open.

A key or a dragon, but he couldn’t use the latter with the demon in his shadow.

“I need a key,” he sighed, looking back at the door. “I’ll be right back-”

“No need,” she said, making him look back up at her in confusion. Her smile turned into a proud smirk. “I have two keys, mine and one of theirs, cause I’m just that good.” With a few violent shakes of her hair, Hiccup’s eyes caught sight of a black key that looked familiar somehow, though he’s never seen a black key before in his life.

Without even realizing it, he took it, holding the smooth metal in his hand.

Was this metal? It kind of felt like it, but it also faintly felt like something else, something like… “Gronckle iron?” His eyes widened as he pulled it even closer to his eyes. The recipe was lost to them after Fishlegs couldn't remember what he fed his dragon. The fact that there’s a key made of it meant someone out there had the recipe!

“Uhm, earth to Freckles,” Camicazi called out, her tone sounding almost disturbed. “You still around or?”

Shaking his head he nodded. “Sorry, I guess I geeked out,” he nervously laughed as he didn’t even bother grabbing the other key. He just brought the black one up to the shackles and found it fit, probably even better than the original key.

“Thank the GODS,” Camicazi groaned as Hiccup undid the last chain that was around her neck. The girl wasted no time rubbing at her wrists and neck, her expression darkening the longer she did. “Just wait until I put all of them in chains!”

“Wait-” Hiccup quickly said, noticing her anger was getting the best of her. “Don’t forget about the others. We have to free them before we do anything reckless.”

Camicazi stopped rubbing her wrists as she glared up at him, once again annoyed. “We have to knock some heads together if we want to save them anyway.”

“True, but I have a plan,” Hiccup quickly said, making her raise a skeptical eyebrow. “But there’s a hiccup - or rather two.”

“Anddd what’s what?” She asked, crossing her arms skeptically.

“I need the castle’s layout and patrol patterns,” he bit his bottom lip, hoping this wouldn’t come to a dead end.

Her devious smirk gave him hope.

Hiccup swallowed the dread that was crawling up his throat, knowing that at any moment his good luck was going to run out. Not only did Camicazi know the layout of the castle, as she nearly escaped four times, but she also learned the patrol patterns because she was trying to plan another escape attempt. On top of that, no one seemed to notice they were gone.

All hell was about to break loose, he could feel it.

“There,” Camicazi said with a triumphant smirk as they lowered the next barricade against what barely qualified as a castle gate, successfully locking the training soldiers outside. “That takes care of half of them for a while.” Already they - or rather Camicazi - took out the watch guards single handedly. Hiccup was still in complete awe as she practically floated up the walls like some kind of vengeful spirit before knocking them out.

‘I once battled a brute three times my size and stole his underwear without him even noticing!’ She boasted earlier, to which he believed her. She was definitely a thief not to be reckoned with.  

“Okay, that just leaves the patrolling guards inside the castle, which we’ve estimated to be at least forty.”

Camicazi couldn’t help but let out a soft snort, finding his unusual calmness amusing. Then again, they did have a pretty solid plan. “Forty against two, I like the odds,” she smirked as they very quietly started making their way to the halls. After a while he was walking by himself as they neared the first set of guards.

Four of them, all drunk and laughing about some story he couldn’t even hear. Not that it mattered. His eyes glanced up at the ceiling where Camicazi was crawling along the beams, her predatory eyes scaring even him. Like this she looked like a lion waiting for the right moment to pounce on her prey.

As soon as they walked in front of an open door, she dropped down, a rope keeping her tied to the beam as she used the velocity to kick the four into the room. Drunk, they easily stumbled and fell, to which Hiccup quickly ran and closed the door, slipping the barricade on just in time.

“The hell - let us out!!” One of them cried as another banged on the door. Hiccup glanced up at Camicazi, seeing her already up the rope and making her way further down the hall.

They repeated this process until they couldn’t find anyone else in the halls, only having trouble with a group of five who weren’t drunk. Yet even they proved to be overpowered.

The duo peeked out from one of the hallway door frames into the center room, both out of breath as they observed the area. They closed off all exits and entrances except for two. One was their escape route while the other had too many people gathered around it. Barricading it would’ve given them away. “You know, you aren’t that bad,” Camicazi said, making Hiccup smile a bit as he glanced over at her panting form. “For a boy, that is.”

“Thanks, you’re not bad either, for a girl, that is,” he smirked right back, forcing her to stifle back a laugh. Hiccup’s smile slowly fell though as he glanced back at the room, seeing all the brainwashed innocent people being used as nothing but puppets. They were hardly fed, their ribs were sickeningly sticking out and their eyes held little to no light. Images from the town they found in the forest came back, making clench the staff he stole from a guard.

No, he refused to let history repeat itself. This time he’d save them.

“What I said earlier still goes,” Hiccup said, gaining the other’s attention. “I want you to focus on getting the others out of here. If I get overpowered, leave me behind-” “Freckles-”

“I mean it.” Hiccup punctuated as he looked her in the eyes, letting her see his burning determination. “I wasn’t lying earlier, I’m cursed. There’s someone from the Nightmares watching me from the shadows, someone who probably won’t let me leave.”

Some of the color drained from her face as she physically tensed. “Oh,” she said, silence filling the space after. Hiccup bit his bottom lip uncomfortably as he avoided eye contact. Of course she’d shut him out after hearing that. Who wouldn’t?

“I’m still not gonna leave you,” she said after a few moments, making Hiccup look back at her in confusion. Camicazi was smiling this time, a smile that was warm and not teasing, something so foreign to her face it was odd to see. “I’ll focus on everyone first, but if something happens, I’ll come back for you.”

“No, you can’t do that,” he said, unable to stop the smile of fondness that crept to his lips, feeling horribly touched. “I appreciate it-”

“No butts,” she said stubbornly, that playful smirk returning. “You freed me, I owe you one.” She turned to jump back to the ceiling, but stopped as Hiccup gently grabbed her wrist.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he soothed, catching her eyes again. “My friend’s a demigod, he’s coming to save me, so don’t worry, okay?”

Someone screamed bloody murder, pulling them both back into the moment. It wasn’t unusual for this area, but it would be the last time.

Giving each other an understanding nod, they went to their respective positions. There were only five guards in this area who were armed. The others were neglecting their duties and using their ‘toys.’ Hopefully this wouldn’t take too long.

Eating another leaf he had stored in his hip, he glanced up at Camicazi, seeing she was ready.

The master thief jumped down from the beam and kicked two of the guards hard in the chest, successfully knocking their helmets off. Hiccup ran over, his staff swinging as he slammed it into the back of their heads.

They didn’t move.

‘Three more,’ he breathed, feeling an uneasy chill in the air. This wasn’t Jack’s cold, this was Pitch’s. Of course he wouldn’t let him leave yet.

Screams and cries broke out at the scene from the captives. A few of them stayed silent, some thoughtful, some thoughtless.

“We’re leaving tonight!” Hiccup hollered as loud as he could, readying his staff as guards started running up to him. “If you want your freedom, get behind me!” For a moment, no one moved as the guard charged him. Hiccup easily side stepped as Camicazi swung down and kicked him hard in the face, knocking him flat on his back. Twirling the staff, Hiccup struck him in the sensitive area, forcing the man to let out a guttural howl before going silent, unconscious.

A few started coming forward, both males and females alike. They were hesitant, uneasy, but they were taking the first few steps towards freedom.

Hiccup glowered as he saw a man grab a woman who was looking hopeful in their way, wrapping his disgusting fingers around her throat. “You’re not going anywhere fucking bitch!”

“Cover them!” Hiccup hollered as he ran over, only to skid to a stop seeing another woman hit him with a food tray. The man’s hands fell from the other’s neck, allowing her to quickly scramble from his lap. The women with the tray slammed it hard against his skull one more time before they both ran over.

That’s when chaos broke out. The handlers tried forcing their merchandise to go with them and sneak out the back door, but the other victims wouldn’t allow it. Left and right light started swimming in those dead eyes as they fought back. Camicazi jumped down from the ceiling and fended the handlers who made a mad dash for the line of women who were waiting for freedom as Hiccup helped attack the handlers who tried to get away. The whole time something was nagging at the back of his mind, something he didn’t want to admit bugged him.

He hadn’t seen the Commander or whatever that man was who captured him - the one who was supposed to be handling him. Considering he was high ranking, he could be leading the training session outside the castle.

“Don’t move, or I’ll cut out his throat!” One of the handlers threatened. Hiccup pivoted around on his heels and growled, seeing the man backed into a corner with a knife at the slave’s throat. Within seconds the fear left the slave’s face as he slammed his hand hard on the other’s family jewel. With a howl of main the man dropped the knife. With a shrug the slave ran free. Clenching his staff Hiccup ran forward and swept the man’s feet out from under him before slamming it into his chest.

Thud - Hiccup and Camicazi looked up towards the large doors they closed earlier and cursed. They had less time than they had hoped for.

“Everyone follow me!” He heard Camicazi holler. The captives nodded and followed, glancing over at a few who stayed where they were in fear.

They couldn’t move, they were scared to hope.

“Come on,” Hiccup gently soothed over at twins who seemed frightened out of their mind. Images of finding the little girl and her brother came back, to which he quickly shook the thought away. “If you don’t want to lose each other you’ll follow her, got it?” He pushed a little more, seeing more fear fill their eyes. But they still didn’t move.

He refused to leave them here. “I’m sorry, but you have to go.” Reaching down he pulled them both up by the front of their shirts and gently pushed them in the direction of the line. “Follow them.” Hesitantly the two did as they were told just as something sharp pierced his neck - again.

Cursing under his breath he quickly ate one of the leaves as his eyes met those cold gray ones that were filled with both rage and admiration.

Speak of the devil.

“The defect’s behind this? I have to say, I’m surprised,” he said as he clenched his own staff. He obviously didn't want to hurt his merchandise too badly. “That girl was locked up tight this time, meaning you were the one that freed her.”

“Does it really matter?” Hiccup asked, feeling a nervous bead of sweet trail down the side of his face. The leaf didn’t seem to do anything against whatever was injected in his neck this time. It was starting to get cold. “You won’t get past me.” He said, his eyes narrowing with determination flaring from his eyes. By now the line of slaves was out of sight, thank the gods. Now he just had to fend this man off for as long as he could.

----

Jack made sure they were safely away from the Changelings before setting them all down. All the horses instantly collapsed, reveling in the feeling of dirt beneath their hooves.

Cassandra and Eugene both dismounted their horses, seeming to be thankful for land again too.

“What the hell happened? There were no dragons!” Eugene finally managed to complain.

“Changelings,” Jack and Cassandra said at the same time, making them both look at each other, amused. “They’re dragons that can camouflage against anything.”

Eugene tapped a finger against his chin as he tried to wrap his mind around what happened, his eyes glancing down at Pascal who looked back up at him. “Oh, so like a chameleon, I get it!”

Jack let himself sit down for a moment, feeling more drained then he would’ve liked. “They normally don’t inhabit open areas like that,” he mumbled to himself, wondering if Hiccup had something to do with that.

“You’re right,” Cassandra agreed, crossing her arms in deep thought. “I’ve only encountered them in areas with a lot of cover. Maybe the enemy has a base camp somewhere in the forest. That would explain why the dragons were chased into the open.”

Oh right - that could be a thing too. He really hoped Hiccup called for them though. At least that gave him hope that he was okay.

“A flying human?” He heard Toothless question, horribly confused. Glancing up, Jack couldn’t help but squint, not believing what he was seeing. The dragon was right, there was definitely someone in the sky, but something wasn’t right. It didn’t really look like they were flying, it was more like they were being carried.

Wait… something bright was trailing behind it, something golden?

Getting to his feet, he willed the wind to pull him up. The closer he got, the more he realized that yes, this was a female with really long blond hair but she wasn’t flying, she was being carried by a Changeling!

Could this be Rapunzel?! Since she was with Hiccup it made sense why a dragon had her, although it didn’t explain why the dragon whisperer was nowhere in sight.

Toothless fluttered up next to him as they stayed a safe distance away, not really sure what to do. “I don’t want to hurt it, but I don’t know how to ask it to let her go. Can you?”

Toothless groaned, knowing this would happen. Flying up further up, he grew nervous. Would this wild Changeling even listen to him?

“Hey,” Toothless cautiously called, hoping he gained its attention. He couldn't see it, it was invisible! “Did the dragon whisperer ask you to protect her?”

For a moment, he didn’t think he’d get a response and nearly jumped when he did. “Yes tiny one, he begged me to keep her safe. Why do you smell like him?”

“Toothless is his guardian. Is he okay?” He asked, fearful for the answer.

“I do not know. I took the girl and left. There were many men around him, though I’m sure he’s fine considering-”

“Toothless knows,” Toothless interrupted, glancing down at Jack, hoping he didn’t hear that. “What did they look like?”

“Black clothing with red stripes and a little bit of blue. They didn’t really say anything while I was there.”

“That’s enough, thank you,” he said with a tired sigh. There was never a dull moment with Hiccup. “Let the girl go, we’ll reunite them.”

The dragon’s camouflage slowly faded, revealing the dragon that hovered with her still clenched protectively in its talons. Without another word she was suddenly airborne. Jack wasted no time catching her, nearly sneezing as her hair smacking him in the face.

“S-sorry!” Rapunzel cried out as she desperately wrapped her arms around him, afraid he’d let go. The fear was short lived however as her excited curiosity got the better of her. “You’re flying!” She gasped in excitement.

“I’m aware,” Jack said as they started to slowly descend, finding it difficult when the hair kept smacking him in the face.

“Without a dragon!” She squealed, only to stop mid way. Fearing something was wrong, the demigod looked down at her, though his eyes caught sight of the necklace she was wearing.

That was Hiccup’s! “The ticking thing!” He gasped, looking at her almost desperately. “What happened to him?”

“He pushed me away!” She snapped bitterly yet worriedly. “They were coming from everywhere and he called for help, but the dragon only grabbed me! I have to help him!”

Jack’s eyes narrowed, wondering how that could've happened. A Changeling that size would’ve had no problem carrying both of them, so why didn’t Hiccup go with her?

“Did you see any of them?” He questioned as Toothless landed on his shoulder. Rapunzel looked down in guilt as she shook her head.

“No… sorry. The dragon picked me up so fast I got disoriented, b-but we can find him with this thing!” She quickly held up the necklace, to which Jack nodded. They never tried it out before, but if it was Hiro approved he trusted it with their lives.

“The Changeling ---- black ------, red ------, and blue ------- humans.” Toothless said, hoping beyond hope Jack would get some of it.

It was enough, and the news literally made his blood turn ice cold.

Too late - oh dear gods they were far too late-!

“Can I see the necklace?” He asked urgently as they landed. Rapunzel nodded as she slipped it off as he set her on the ground. Instantly He pictured Hiccup sitting with him at a campfire, laughing and calling him an idiot as the ticking thing’s arrow moved, pointing forward.

“I’m going with you,” Rapunzel said, motioning for her friends not to hug her yet. “He saved my life, now I need to save his.”

Jack’s gaze darkened as he nodded, grateful. “Good, because where he’s at, he’s going to need your healing.”  

----

He felt himself start stirring again, and just like the first time, he could hardly move. Every inch of his body was sore, the lingering effects of the earlier drug taking a drastic effect on his body. Then again it was probably designed to do that.

It was odd though, he wasn’t chained to the ceiling, no he was looking up at it.

“Honestly I’m impressed. You managed to get most of the slaves out, but then you got yourself captured again,” he muffely heard Pitch say, making him groan. “The Lord wants you to suffer for what you’ve done. And this man? He believes the worst punishment is having your own body betray you.”

Hiccup’s eyebrows knitted together after a few moments, confused. “Wh-what?”

Footsteps could be heard rushing towards his room, which made Pitch smile. “Just remember, I can stop him at any moment. Oh, and once he’s finished with you, there’s a whole line waiting for you.”

Hiccup’s eyes widened as Pitch was replaced by his handler who was wearing a black silk robe.

Oh - oh no.

*** “You’re finally awake,” he smirked as he climbed on top of him, the floor - no the bed beneath him bowing down a bit. “Everyone wants you to themselves after what you did, but the Lord gave you to me to punish.” Cold hands crawled over his partially clothed chest, making Hiccup’s stomach flutter, much to his horror. The man sighed at the reaction before dipping down. Without warning lips pressed against the exposed part of his chest, making him gasp in fear.

No - oh gods no he refused to let this happen! And yet, he couldn’t move - he couldn't even lift his pinkie off the bed-!

“S-stop-” he somehow managed to cry out.

The man’s face was suddenly back, those gray eyes fogged over with that damned disgusting smirk on his face. “Since I found you, you belong to me first defect-” lips pressed hungrily against his as those hands went to his sides, running up and down them as if wanting to memorize him.

“Stop - no - Jack-!” He desperately tried crying against the man’s lips, which only allowed the man to push his tongue into his mouth as one of those hands went to his nipple-

“NO!” He screamed as he slammed his head into the other man’s. Somehow it only seemed to spur him on more as he straddled his waist and ground down, making Hiccup miserably whimper.

‘Ask for help Hiccup,’ the demon chuckled as he felt the tongue break through his lips again.

No - he hated this, but he Jack would come - Jack would save him, not Pitch!

Moving his head slightly forward, he bit down hard on the invading tongue. When the man cried out in pain and tried to pull back, Hiccup only bit down harder , determined to bite it off.

‘Jack - I need you please PLEASE where are you?!’

A blinding white pain erupted though his body stemming from his private area, his mind literally going blank as a harsh ringing erupted in his ears.

“You BITCH!” He heard the man painfully wail as the weight against him left. Hiccup’s eyesight slowly started to come back only to realize tears were trailing past his cheeks, making him whimper.

He still couldn’t move, it literally took everything he had to move his head and bite-!

But this is what he asked for, wasn’t it? When he stood up to Jack and told him he’d take whatever came his way because he could handle it, that included this, right? So he shouldn’t complain, he should be able to take-!

...this was his fault for being so naive... wasn’t it?

“You made me BLEED!” He felt a blade press into his side, pain flaring and forcing him to let out a pained cry. “Do it again, and we’ll see what I do next!” Fear flooded through his veins as the man plunged into his mouth again, biting hard on his tongue and drawing blood.

‘Just give the word, and I’ll kill him for you Hiccup,’ Pitch said softly into his ear, those cold yet soft fingers in his hair such a sharp contrast from the horrific pain that was engulfing his tongue and side. ‘Do it, before your body isn’t yours anymore.’

The man left his lips as Hiccup was forced to swallow the mixture of their blood as he was picked up by the hair and turned around. “I’m going to make you feel hell!” The man grabbed his hips, not even caring that the knife was still in his side as Hiccup’s fear hit its peak.

It was hot, the room was hot, the man’s movements seemed to slow as the man grabbed his head and pushed his head into the mattress-

Jack wasn’t there-

Toothless wasn’t there-

He was all alone and he couldn’t stop this! All this time he thought he was ready to face the world, but not this - definitely not this-!

*** “Help-” The door slammed open just as the plea left his lips, the whole room becoming ice cold.

Cold - it was cold - was this Jack - please let it be Jack-!!

It was, and the absolute look of pure murder written on his face was petrifying. The demigod didn’t even lift a finger as an icicle slammed into the man’s side, the same area Jack could see a knife lodged into his precious friend’s side. The man yelped in pain, yet Jack was there before he even realized what happened.

“How. Dare. You .” The whole room froze over in an instant as he grabbed the man by the throat and threw him to the icy ground.

Hiccup let out a relieved sob as he curled up on himself, not even realizing that unlike the rest of the room, he was being spared from the cold. It took all of Jack’s restraint not to let his powers run wild, but thankfully he had someone he wanted to take his anger out on.

“Wh-who the hell are you?!” The man gasped as he felt ice starting to crawl along his skin. Jack’s eyes turned all white as darkness started to seep from him, a darkness that made the man cower against a wall in pure terror.

This man tried to violate Hiccup’s sacred body. This man dared to stab and beat him - made him whimper and cry, and who knows what else he did to his precious one-!

“I’m your worst nightmare ,” his voice deeply rumbled, not sounding like himself at all. The man quivered and whimpered as he felt his veins slowly freezing, looking up at him in pure unfiltered terror.

“Wh-what - a-are you doing to me?!” Jack took a step forward, the ice only seeming to slow as it started to cover his organs. The demigod didn’t speak as he came even closer, making sure to completely freeze something inside the man that made his eyes roll up into the back of his head. “S-stop… I-I b-beg you…”

The room went even colder as anger shot through Jack. “Did you stop when Hiccup asked?!” He snapped, picking the man up by the hair. “Did you stop when ANY of the asked?!” An icicle formed at the man’s lips, all the sides and edges themselves spiky as Jack’s face grew so dark he wasn’t even recognizable. “I want you to take this, all of it, slowly.” The man’s eyes widened as he felt it enter his mouth, the spikes already tearing up his mouth.

A small surprised gasp left Jack’s lips as some darkness fled when he felt a weight press weakly against his chest, shaky twig like arms wrapping around him.  

“D-don’t…” he heard Hiccup’s shaky voice beg, the grip around him tightening. “Please… this… isn’t you.”

The otherworldly glow left his eyes as he quickly turned around and pulled Hiccup into his arms, horribly shocked the auburn managed to get off the bed. He was heavily drugged, he knew that the moment he saw the scene. So how the hell did he manage to get up and make his way to him?

“Hiccup,” he softly whispered as he held him carefully in his arms, mindful of the knife still in his side. “I’m so, so sorry it took me so long to find you,” the demigod practically whimpered as he made sure not to make him feel overcrowded in his arms.

The dragon whisperer merely shook his head as Toothless flew in, uneasily landing next to them upon seeing the scene. Something really bad happened… and something wasn’t right.

“You came-” Hiccup gasped out as he weakly clenched the front of Jack’s shirt and buried his face where he could, unable to help the way his body trembled.“You came, I-I thought you wouldn’t-!!”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that as he glanced down at his precious friend. “You thought I wouldn’t? Come on Hic, you know I’ll always be here for you… even if I’m slightly late.” His eyes went to Toothless, seeing the dragon uneasy. “You’re hurt-”

Toothless let out a roar, but Jack was ready this time. He gripped Hiccup’s wrist tightly as he felt the end of the bloodied knife barely poke against his clothes. Furious anger coursed through him as he looked down at Hiccup with such sad eyes.

This is how Hiccup was able to move off the bed despite being drugged.

“He’s not yours,” Jack hissed as he felt Hiccup push even harder against the knife. Bile rose in the back of his throat as he twisted his friend’s wrist, the cry of pain going straight to his heart as the knife clamored to the floor. “Let. Him. Go.”

Pitch chuckled as he formed from the shadows by the bed, seeming more than pleased. “On the contrary Jack, he finally is.” He smirked. Freckled hands wrapped around his throat, making Jack gasp in shock more than pain. “Do you know how hard it was to finally gain some control over him?” He said, quite pleased as Toothless growled at the demigod of darkness. Of course he paid the dragon no mind. “You really know how to pick’em, don’t you?”

Jack hated to do it, but he let his ice run along Hiccup’s hands as a warning. His freckled face wavered, but his grip didn’t. “I refuse to hurt you Hic.”

“No matter what I did, I couldn’t control him. He had to invite me in by asking for help. Even now that he’s under my direct control, I still can’t tell what he’s thinking or look into his past. I can only feel his emotions-” Pitch stopped as his look hardened against Hiccup.

The grip around his neck slowly faltered until those freckled hands left, tears streaming down his cheeks. “-orry - I’m… so sorry-” Hiccup’s eyes opened, revealing pitch black sand desperately swirling in them.

“What?” Pitch hissed as he held a hand out, applying more force. The auburn let out a sharp cry as he tried pulling himself away from Jack slightly, but the demigod didn’t dare let go. He absolutely refused to let the shadow master touch him.

The said dark demigod growled even more, applying more and more force. “Why?! I had you - I finally had you!”

Toothless landed on Jack’s shoulder and reached a paw out to Hiccup, which only made him whimper more. As soon as he touched him, black sand shot out from him - from his eyes, ears, nose and back. Jack literally watched as the nightmare mark on the back of his neck literally dissolved into sand before his very eyes, the sand crawling back to PItch in defeat.

“What…?” Jack even found himself muttering, but only for a second. Composing himself he let out a burst of ice, creating a wall in the room to separate them from Pitch.

“This isn’t over Jackson,” Pitch said, though his voice wavered a bit. If he didn't know any better, it sounded like there was a pinch of fear in his voice. “I’ll make him a Nightmare, the most fearsome Nightmare yet, and it’ll be all your fault!”

Jack ignored him as he quickly gathered Hiccup in his arms and flew as fast as he could out of the room, though knew Pitch wouldn't follow. Not when he had no clue how to bend Hiccup to his will.

The wind made Hiccup shiver, the blood seeping from the wound not helping either. “You’re gonna be just fine,” he whispered into Hiccup’s hair, trying not to dwell on what just happened. They’d have plenty of time to reflect on that later.

Finally finding the exit, he saw the Coronians eyes widen in excitement before they saw the blood. Instantly Rapunzel came running forward, gathering strands of her hair as he landed, gently setting him on the ground.

“You’re gonna be okay Hiccup,” she gently soothed as she wrapped her hair around his chest. Light gently flowed from her into him as Jack looked over to see Cassandra, Eugene and a girl with wild blond hair giving food and water to some of the slaves. They looked so confused and broken… almost like the people of the village they stumbled upon.

Hiccup could’ve ended up just like them.

‘No - I’d never let that happen,’ he swore to himself as he looked up at Rapunzel, seeing her looking for more wounds. “His mouth-” there was blood seeping from the sides of his mouth, making more anger course through him.  

“Hic, I’m gonna open your mouth so we can heal it, okay?” He whispered very gently. Both of them didn’t move until they saw him give a slight nod, though both grew angry when they saw what the source was. Part of the left side of his tongue was nearly bit in half. It took everything the demigod had not to storm back into that sickening place to torture the man more.

Rapunzel whispered soft warnings to Hiccup before healing his tongue, her eyes looking for more wounds. They didn’t see any… but who knows how he was doing mentally.

“Do you feel anymore pain?” The princess softly asked, to which Hiccup shook his head no. She couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. “Good. There’s nothing I can do about the drugs, I’m sorry. We’ll have to wait for them to wear off.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” Jack gratefully said as he looked back down to Hiccup, watching with a heavy heart as those foggy forest green eyes held a glint of fear in them. His body was still shaking… that was to be expected though. Hopefully the drugs would wear off soon.

“Don’t worry Hic, I won’t leave your side,” he mumbled as he took off his cloak and draped it on his body. Hiccup shivered but closed his eyes, trying to regulate his panicked breathing. Jack bite his lip, knowing there wasn’t much he could do.

Or maybe there was. “Hic, I want you to focus on me, on my words, okay? Remember… I want to be a bard, so… just focus on me, my story, and my voice until you fall asleep.”

----

Authors Note: I hope you guys enjoyed this super long chapter! =D I didn't have an editor because I didn't want to bother anyone and it's really long so I apologize! Tumblr doesn’t like to copy and past any italicized of bold words I do and it’s really hard to find them all so on tumblr I left it alone, sowy =/ For those who didn't want to read the *** part, the only thing you missed was someone inappropriately touching and trying to rape Hic, but Jack came just in time! But Hic called out for help and Pitch used that moment of invitation to possess Hic - or rather, tried to possess him. I hope you guys liked it!

[not-a-space-alien]

Into the Unknown, Part 14:  No Refunds or Exchanges

Prologue | Dramatis Personae | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Series masterpost

On AO3

Well, it’s all well and good to be hopeful.  Hope is the first step to solving your problems.  But unfortunately, the second step is usually some variation of actually doing something to solve your problem, avenues for which Crowley had precisely zero available.  

Crowley spent a good amount of time slithering forward in search of a way out of the Pit.  Then he had a good session of sniffing about and investigating, then a spate of time spent roving and wandering.

He had heat pits as a snake, of course, but they weren’t helpful.  The entire place was hot, glowing in his UV vision like a blazing supernova.  He had to turn it off after a while to avoid the sensory overload.

His tongue flicking out and tasting the air provided an overwhelming array of scents, all jumbled up on one another, an unread story with a thousand layers on top of one another like a hellish lasagna.  He occasionally caught scent of someone nearby, sensing a shift in the air, the vibration of footsteps against his scaly belly, snaking towards it in a predatory way, but unable to reach anyone before they ran off. He called out for them to wait, always, but they never did.  They moved at the edges of his periphery like the ghosts of timid rodents.

Crowley coiled up, considering changing back into his human form.  The forked tongue was useful for now, and there was something comforting about being in his original shape.

The soft tmp tmp tmp of footsteps sounded in the pitch-black.

“Hello?” said Crowley, periscoping up.  “Don’t run away!  Please!”

There was suddenly a bright light, the light of the innermost layer of Hell.  Crowley would have slammed his eyes shut had he had eyelids.

He felt a hand on him, clamping on his neck, and dragging him out.

The light of Hell’s throne room felt like the piercing brightness of Heaven after the darkness of the Pit; it took several moments for Crowley’s vision to adjust so he could see:

Satan was holding him, his coils looped around the length of her arm and squeezing as a panicked reflex.  Behind her was the archdemon Vycra; her face bore a gnarly set of fresh talon marks, and she looked chastised and cowed.

Crowley stood statue-still like a panicked deer as Satan lifted him up to meet his eyes.  “What’s so special about you?” she demanded.

He flicked his tongue out.

“You must know something,” said Satan.  “Some information they need.  Or some ability you’ve kept hidden from me.  Whatever it is, they can’t want you for anything good.”

Crowley’s muscular coils slid along her arm, pulsing with enough force to crush lesser beings to death.  He let out a hiss like a tea kettle.

“Maybe if you tell me, things will go a lot easier for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Crowley croaked.

“Someone wants you very, very badly,” she said.  “And I can’t imagine why.  But I intend to find out.”

********************************************

The group dawdled and bickered about what their next step should be while they waited to be contacted again by Hell.  Which finally happened about an hour later, a message to tell them to meet Satan in the same spot as before, at sunrise the next morning.

The delay was unnerving.  Their precious time in this universe before having to return was burning up.  Three days and two nights it had been, and at sunup when Satan wanted to meet they would begin eating into their third day. They were due back at 7PM, which meant that, if anything in this trade-off went wrong, they would only have about 12 hours to scrape up some alternate plan.

They sent down to Hell a very polite request to meet earlier, which was summarily and unambiguously rejected.

So they flocked together in the eaves of the church like bats huddled up, trying to get some anxious rest while they prepared themselves.

Uriel kept the Book of Life cradled in her wings.  Aziraphale caught her in the middle of the night reading it; it was open to Lucifer’s page, and she caressed it gently, as though comforting a lost loved one.

The morning of the third and final day in this universe came soon enough.

They had decided Aziraphale should appear again, but the previous encounter with Vycra made them hesitant to risk Aziraphale’s physical safety in the same way, so at least one of the higher-ranking members of the group would go with him.

If they all stood there waiting for Satan to show up, they figured Satan would probably suspect (rightly) that it was a trap, get suspicious, and call it off.  Seeing Uriel and Victoria would be a tip off that something very strange was happening and would probably shift the focus of the meeting towards the fact that their un-fallen doppelgangers somehow existed, and who knew how they would react to that?

Again, they were caught up in the unpredictability….They would have been able to have some kind of idea what to expect in their home universe, but this Satan was new, a different animal entirely.  And they had to figure out how to outsmart her, to double-cross and walk away with both Crowley and the Book of Life, unless they wanted to let this universe burn down behind them when they left.

But how to finagle it so they had the upper hand?  What if Satan brought four archdemons with her and matched their firepower?  What if this meeting turned into a battle?  What if she concocted up a way to thwart their attempts to keep both Crowley and the Book of Life, or worse, keep them both herself?  What if she got wind it was a trap and slaughtered Crowley before they could get him?

That led Aziraphale to visions of his beloved being slain as a consequence of their attempts to play dirty, and it sent spikes of anxiety through him. He was tempted to actually give over the Book of Life and let this universe fall to ruin as long as it meant he would get Crowley back safely.

But the others wouldn’t let him, because they at least had some sense of propriety remaining, and he was shocked to discover that was probably the only thing holding him back from such a selfish action.

They eventually decided it had to be Maltha to stand by Aziraphale and assure his safety.  It couldn’t be Victoria or Uriel, and Mykas would probably be troublesome as well. They decided the best course of action would be to mask Maltha’s aura with the angel dust spell.  This would obscure her identity and make it difficult to tell if she was an angel or a demon.  This would likely be better than being up-front about a demon and an angel working together, because that kind of thing was still scandalous and unheard of in this place, and the revelation would, again, draw an unpredictable response from Satan.

All they had to do was get Crowley close enough that they could grab him. Aziraphale would have the Book of Life, and Maltha would be next to him.  They would say whatever outlandish thing they had to in order to get Crowley within snatching distance.  Aziraphale would drop the Book, grab Crowley, and Maltha would fend off any resistance until Mykas, Victoria, Uriel, and Ramial arrived for backup.

They would, they assumed, be able to overpower Satan and whoever she brought as backup.  That was a big assumption.  And they only had to grab Crowley and the Book and then run away; they didn’t have to win the battle, just hold their own. It might, just might work.

Creating the angel dust for Maltha unfortunately required quite a good deal of feathers, which were taken from Aziraphale, Ramial, Victoria, and Uriel. Maltha healed the poor plucked sods because they had taken so many feathers it was doubtful they would be able to fly, but it was still a quite unpleasant experience.

They didn’t have all the ingredients they would need to make the drinkable version of the spell, so they hastily put together the dust version and sprinkled it on her.  They ended up needing to go back and make more, and even then it just barely covered her entirely.  The sun was rising by the time they finished and got into position.

The dead grass crunched under their feet as they took up position, the exact same place Aziraphale had stood last time.  The others were far enough away to not be felt, to preserve the element of surprise, and it unnerved Aziraphale that their backup was so far away.

But he had seen how fast Mykas was capable of moving.  And he had Maltha by his side now, and frankly, Aziraphale had been pretty thoroughly convinced by now of Maltha’s ability to get away with pretty much whatever she wanted, even moreso than him.  Aziraphale and Maltha both had flare guns, which they would set off to let the others know to rush over.

So there Aziraphale stood, the hefty Book of Life in his arms, with Maltha and her masked aura hovering behind his shoulder.  He didn’t dare pray; he didn’t know what might happen.

A towering inferno of flames and billowing white smoke erupted in the distance, and winged figures could be seen in the flames.

“Here we go,” said Maltha.

Leading the way was Vycra, bearing fresh wounds on her face, likely the result of talking back earlier.  Behind her, snuffling across the dry bracken was this universe’s version of the archdemon Mykas, a bearish figure crisscrossed with scars and looking incapable of more than the most bestial instincts.  A chain around his neck led to the hand of—

Satan.  She had a skeletal frame and awful, terrible wings full of eyes.  And in the other hand she held a sack, which writhed faintly.

Aziraphale eyed the sack hungrily, desperate.  He knew what was in it.  Despite the circumstances, he managed a small laugh.  “They just brought him in a pillow case.”

Satan stopped within shouting distance, Mykas on her right, Vycra to her left.  Satan, and two archdemons.  They might be able to win, if the others could get here quickly enough.  A sneer crossed Satan’s face.  “And who exactly might this be, principality?”

“An escort to ensure you play fair,” said Aziraphale darkly.  “Considering what you tried to pull last time.”

Satan’s faced crunched into hatred.  “What kind of angel is this?  What’s wrong with her aura?”

“Don’t worry about her,” said Aziraphale.  “Do you have him?”

Satan reached into the bag and pulled out a black and red snake, hand firmly behind his jaw and out of biting distance.  She dropped the sack and held him up, his thick body coiling around her arm.

The panic in his eyes and frantic movements of his serpentine body broke Aziraphale’s heart.  Crowley writhed and made eye contact with Aziraphale.  Still, he trembled.

Aziraphale thought that he needed a way to signal to Crowley that this was his Aziraphale, not the other one who had tried to kill him.  So he very subtly spread his fingers, lifting his ring-finger up slightly to draw Crowley’s attention to the golden band there.

Crowley’s eyes wheeled about in his head, and he snapped at Satan, trying to bite her hand.  It was unfortunately a futile gesture, but the renewed attempts at escape made Aziraphale think Crowley had gotten the message.

“This creature is what you want, isn’t it?” said Satan.

“Yes,” said Aziraphale.  “Let him go.”

“Not yet,” said Satan.  Crowley’s sides heaved, expelling a fearsome hiss.  “First, I demand an explanation.  Something very strange is going on.  Who is this ‘archangel’ next to you, and for what purpose do you demand this demon, that you would trade Heaven’s most holy artifact for him?”

Maltha’s hand grabbed the collar of Aziraphale’s shirt, and it was only then that he realised he had started forward to pummel Satan’s face in.  “Patience,” Maltha hissed.

“That is none of your concern,” Aziraphale yelled.  “You agreed to the trade, now let’s trade.”

All she had to do was put Crowley down, Aziraphale thought.  Just put him down, and he could slither far enough away for them to reach him before Satan could retrieve him.  As it was, she had a death grip on him, and there was no way to snatch him without risking retaliation.

Just put him down.

“Put him down,” Aziraphale said.  “And we’ll get on with it.”

Satan narrowed her eyes at him.

Vycra drew her sword, laying it across Crowley’s neck.  “Let me rephrase this,” said Satan.  “This demon must be of some considerable value to you, and I stand to lose nothing.  So if you wish to re—”

She was interrupted by an ear-splitting blast from a horn, and all heads looked up to see the sky parting, Heavenly warriors pouring out, led by Kris.

Maltha hissed.  From Satan’s side, Mykas barked and snarled viciously.

“Villain!” Kris’s voice boomed.  “I knew you were up to no good.  You intend to hand the Book of Life over to the Adversary.”

“I knew this was a trap,” Satan shrieked.  “Vycra, take him back down.  They won’t trick us out of our leverage so easily.”

This was the point at which Aziraphale dropped the Book of Life, which landed with an Earth-shaking thud to the gasps of all present, and sprinted with all his force to bridge the gap between them.  He had killed Satan once, and he was prepared to do it again, and now that he had Crowley in his sight he wouldn’t let him out of it again for anything.

The sky disgorged an impressive amount of angels.  Maltha set off the signal for their reinforcements to come and snatched the Book of Life of the ground.  Satan dropped Mykas’s chain, releasing him.  Aziraphale pumped his wings and rocketed at Satan, who was handing Crowley to Vycra.

Aziraphale drew his sword.

Vycra also drew hers.

Aziraphale’s lunge at Satan was easily deflected with a sneer and a wave of her arm, sending him careening into Vycra and landing heavily at her feet.

Vycra lifted her sword to ram Aziraphale through.

This diverted her attention away from the serpent in her hand, briefly, just long enough for him to twist and spit venom in her face.

It splattered on her cheek and hit her left eye.  She recoiled, screaming, but she dropped her sword instead of Crowley.  Whatever damnable reflex was responsible for it, she dropped her sword instead of him, holding onto him like her life depended on it.

Aziraphale stood to try and wrestle Crowley off of her, but she kicked him square in the chest and flung him back.  Crowley erupted into a stream of hisses, flicking venom everywhere, but she had pointed him away from her face by this point.

“I told you to take him and go,” Satan growled.

Vycra’s gaze—one good eye, one swamped with black, crawling venom—went from Satan to Aziraphale, then she turned and spread her wings.

“No!” Aziraphale shouted.

Vycra kicked off into the air, Crowley still coiled around her arm, zigzagging around the descending heavenly forces and veering out of their path. Aziraphale leapt up to follow, unsuccessfully trying to grab onto her ankles before she got out of reach.

Vycra was a much stronger flier than he was, and it was obvious from the moment she took off he wouldn’t be able to catch up to her, but that didn’t stop him from trying.  She rocketed up into a cloud bank out of sight, and Aziraphale followed, breaking through the mist.  The sounds of the freshly started battle below faded with distance.

Aziraphale exited the cloud into an empty sky, panting and wheeling around to try and find them.  There. He spotted the archdemon diving towards the ground, where a portal to the underworld had opened up to admit her.

“No you don’t!” said Aziraphale.  He tucked in his wings and dived.  He could faintly see the serpentine figure in Vycra’s grasp writhing and struggling as they plummeted.

The portal swallowed Vycra up.

Please, Aziraphale thought, stay open just two seconds longer.

It had begun to close by the time Aziraphale reached it, but he was able to tuck and roll to fit through it.

He hit something hard and felt his nose break, his vision filled with white blurs as he tumbled over.  He finally lay motionless on the ground for a moment, his head ringing, then sat up as quickly as he could, vision spinning.

He had made it through the portal, all right, into the infernal dimension, but he hadn’t made it past the gate.  In front of him loomed a massive white stone door patterned with an eye set into a cave wall, firmly closed.  The blood smear on it told Aziraphale he had collided face-first into it.

He wiped the blood with his sleeve, springing to his feet.  Vycra must have gone inside already, somehow. Aziraphale marched around, but the little antechamber was empty, and there was nowhere they could be hiding.

Aziraphale’s heart sank as his brain began to process the fact that he had failed.  He jogged around, looking vainly for some sign that he was wrong, but the only logical conclusion was that Vycra had gone in and someone had managed to close the gate with impeccable timing to lock him out.

He marched up to the door, huffing, and knocked on it.  The eye on the door shifted to look at him.

“Let me in!” he demanded.

The eye blinked.

“I demand you let me in.”

“No,” said a voice, and the eye closed.

Aziraphale beat at the gate and yelled till he was hoarse.  Then, he sunk dejectedly down into a siting position with his back against the gate.

Now this was a predicament, wasn’t it?  What was there left to do?  They were basically back to square one.  Aziraphale’s instinct was to march in and resort to force….but he couldn’t very well do that alone.  Could he?

Tears sprung to his eyes.

No, he couldn’t even get past the gates.  He had failed.  He was a failure.

Wait a minute.  Crowley was still in danger, and Aziraphale was sitting around crying?  When had that ever accomplished anything?  There would be time to feel miserable later.  For now, he had to put his anger aside and act smartly…something he hadn’t traditionally been very good at.

The first step would be to regroup…Except he had left the rest of his party in the middle of a huge battle with Heaven.  His mouth felt dry thinking about it.  Maybe there wouldn’t be anyone else to help him when he got back.

Surely they all had good enough survival instincts to get out of there alive?

Yes.  He had to trust them.  Now he just had to regroup with them.

Except…

This Hell did not have a static exit like the Hell in their home universe had. The antechamber he found himself in was just a smooth unbroken cave.  The only exit was the stone door behind him, which remained firmly shut.

“Oh bugger,” he said.

The only way to leave must be through the same kind of magic used to access it in the first place.  Aziraphale patted his pockets, trying to gauge whether or not he had the spell ingredients necessary to concoct such a ritual.

He thought again about the Heavenly armies pouring down onto Satan’s head. No way Hell would win that fight. Satan would probably be retreating soon, so he’d better hurry before she showed up.

Unless…?  Maybe he could hide and then when the gates opened, sneak in?  That seemed incredibly dangerous, and very foolish.  Maltha, or Mykas, or even Uriel would probably be able to figure out a way to get through the gates; the opportunity to get in wasn’t so rare he needed to risk going in alone.

He got out a piece of chalk and started drawing a circle he supposed might get him back up to Earth.  He laid out the ingredients in his pockets and frowned as he noticed he was short on the prerequisite amount of sulfur needed. Best to try it anyway.

Aziraphale mixed everything together and laid it out, lighting the candles and saying the incantation.  The candles fizzled out, but nothing happened.

“Hmm,” said Aziraphale.

A portal zoomed open in the wall.

“Ah, there we go,” said Aziraphale, paying no mind to the fact that it decidedly hadn’t come from his spell.

Maltha’s head peeked in.  She had a volley of fresh claw marks scored down her face and leading into her neck. “Aziraphale,” she hissed.  “Get out here.  Satan is coming.”

“Is everyone else here too?” said Aziraphale.  “They must’ve gotten not too far, I was thinking we could—”

“She called for reinforcements,” Maltha said tightly.  “You will die.  Get the fuck out here.”

Aziraphale, chastised, stepped out without further argument.

Maltha grabbed his belt to haul him out faster.  He found himself on the roof of the church they had convened at earlier.  The portal to Hell closed behind him.

In the distance, where the sky had been rent to produce Heaven’s armies, the two forces could be seen retreating to their respective strongholds. Satan’s escort had swelled to include an arm of cavalry mounted on Hellhorses, and Azirpahale could sense the presence of at least three archdemons that definitely hadn’t been there before.  The fiery hooves of the horses and the miscellaneous flames on the infantry glowed faintly in the darkness of the black gate swallowing them up.

Maltha was right, Aziraphale would have been trampled.  He tugged at his collar, sweating.  He looked to Maltha, who had plopped herself down tiredly on the roof shingles.  Besides the injury on her face, it looked like most of the feathers on her right wing had been torn off, as well as a few injuries to her arms and torso that had been partially healed.

He looked around.  Mykas was lying out, whining faintly under a crisscross of lacerations from holy weapons on his snout and all over his body.  Victoria had lost her left arm, which had been lopped off just above the elbow and cauterised with infernal fire, by the looks of it.  Poor Ramial was sitting on a pipe with a leg injury that looked like it would make her unable to stand.

Only Uriel, sitting on the edge of the roof with the Book of Life on her lap, was uninjured.

“What happened?” Aziraphale asked.

“They weren’t quite sure what to make of us,” said Victoria with a pained smile. “So we got attacked by both sides.”

Aziraphale sat down heavily, his head in his hands.

“I don’t suppose you managed to catch up to Vycra?” said Uriel.

“No, of course I didn’t,” Aziraphale snapped.  “Don’t be stupid.”

Uriel turned red.

“I see you managed to get away with your precious Book, though,” Aziraphale fumed.  “For all the good it does us.”

“Aziraphale, I gave the Book of Life to Uriel and told her to run to keep Heaven from getting it again,” said Maltha.  “It’s our best leverage over Satan right now.  She still clearly wants it.”

She was right, but that didn’t mean Aziraphale had to be polite.  He glowered without apologising.

“All right,” said Victoria, still breathing heavily.  “So that was a failure.  But we all made it out alive, and we’ve still got the Book, and there’s still time.  We’ve got…” She struggled to count on her fingers with only one hand.  “…eight hours left.”

“Eight hours…”  Aziraphale grappled with a hard dilemma:  if the time came and went, would he go back home and try to think of an alternate plan? …Or would he stay here in this universe, even if it meant being trapped, to try and get Crowley back?

Maltha exhaustedly leaned onto a gargoyle for support, running her hands up and down her injuries.  “All right. There’s no way around it.  I was really hoping there was, but there isn’t. The time for clever plans and bargaining is over.  We have to stop pissing around.”

“Full-frontal assault,” said Mykas.

Victoria nodded.  “Then let’s go.”

[cjoatprehn]

BaxTale: Chapter 2-Part 2

Bax sihs as she walked through the void. Where would she go now? Underswap was very...nerve wracking. Then again she hasn’t come across the original Undertale yet. She has been to surprisingly the more known worlds like Horrortale. She’d like to have fun for a chance and not be running for her life or being sick after witness something grotesque. To just because she was exposed in one world, other worlds miiight not know about her yet. She then got to thinking to herself. What would be the most...safest yet fun route to go through?

She cast a sonar throughout the void. Scanning the terrain for any signs of enemies, lost souls, or even any worlds nearby if she was lucky. But of course she was greeted with Error’s signal, an alternative route already calculated, and a Lost Soul nearby that was snuffed out by Error. She winced. “I guess I was too late to save that one...why is it everytime I enter a world, a Lost Soul dies...just after I leave!” She kicks the ground out of frustration. She follows the route calculated by the sonar. Opposite of Error’s antivoid. She hummed a particular tune to herself as she walked through the white for a couple of hours. Could have been more but she did not care at that point.

Her stomach had started to growl, she stopped for a moment to rest and eat one of the many lunches that Blueberry had made her for her travels. One bite of the supposedly badly made lunch, she immediately savors the meal. “I honestly don’t understand why everyone says that the cooking is terrible. This is the best thing that I have eaten in awhile.” She smiles soon finishing the meal, and resting for awhile. Hearing a distant melody faintly from the west.

She didn’t pay much attention to it before, however, she would later wish she did. She packed up her resting camp and kept moving, hopefully reaching another world before she fell asleep. She continues to walk before the void then splits itself into 3 different portals. She looked at each of them and hen thought for a moment. She smelled something sweet from one, dancing music from another, and smelled the scent of dust from the third. She immediately made her choice.

Of course she ran through the center portal headfirst, already feeling her theme song change within her. Feeling the strong need to make a bold statement. To change their way of thinking. To dance like no one was watching.

UnderSwap —> DanceTale

She makes it into a world called Dancetale. She falls flat on her face in the middle of an alleyway. She felt the intense heat surrounding her. She groaned and got up, rubbing her poor tusks, that saved the rest of her face from hitting the ground. She sighs and peeks out of the alleyway, and immediately noticing dancers, varying styles, dancing in the town square. 2 squaring off against each other, with a crowd cheering for them.

She goes back into the alley. She immediately starts to sweat, not from the heat either. She was shy, nervous, and fearful. She didn’t know which dance style to start with. She couldn’t just...do anything. Something random...This was the land of heat and passion. What the heck was she going to do for her first dance. She couldn’t do something extravagant like Mettaton...nor something as daring as Grillby’s fire-dance...No. If she was going to go out there to make a statement...she was gong to have to do something simple. Contemporary? What’s the craziest matchup she could do...Something with grace....yet...she snapped her fingers. Perfect. If she was going to do this...she needed a theme song.

She then ran out into the public, wearing a strange outfit. It was graceful, simple, yet made for breaking. Everyone saw her run through the dance circle to the stage. Mettaton’s stage. She went to the band on the stage and whispered something in the singers’ ear. They seemed to like the idea. The crowd was shouting in outrage at their dance circle being disturbed.

“Eh, what’s the big idea?!” A monster shouted in the crowd, along with many other insults. A hush ran over the crowd as with a flourish of her hand, rose colored sparkles fell over her and the crowd, creating a sort of veil. Appearing in the center of the crowd, them backing up to make room, The drummer counted up to three. Before the music began, as Bax started in first position.

She moved her hands in a graceful position ready to break into fast paced dancing. She impressed the crowd with maturity, breaking boundaries that shouldn’t be broken, while maintaining grace. She then does a flip as she then makes it sort of tribal, the crowd becoming in beat with the song, soon a few monsters joined in, as the slower part of the song entered, back to contemporary. They enacted a part of war and symbolism as she ready to break the sound barriers again, she never stop maintaining her steps, sweat beaded off her brow, she then stopped with an ending pose. Roses fell from the sky. She panted as the backup monsters went back into the crowd. She was showered with gold and soon became showered in presents as the veil soon disappeared, her along with it. When Mettaton went out into the crowd, demanding answers and the dancer who had stolen the spotlight, no monster had seen where they had gone. Of course, Mettaton promptly pulled Burgerpants with him back to Mettaton HQ, saying, “we have work to do.”

Of course, Bax was trying to stifle her laughter in the alleyway where she had started from. She was blushing as well, thinks “That statement was a little bigger than I thought...” She felt hot, and her scales were sweating out of their minds. She panted, she needed to get out of there. Hotland is a dangerous place for her, due to the nature and rarity of her scales. There was no water anywhere and knowing Hotland, it was probably overpriced.

Bax chuckled to herself, seeing a steamed Mettaton pass by with BurgerPants. She made a fluid motion with her rose colored magic, making another veil before the veil disappeared from Hotland, and her ending up in Waterfall. The rain on her scales made steaming noises as they touched her hot skin and scales. She honestly needed a bath...to get cleaned up before her next dance. She went to a nearby river, and she took off the sweaty outfit she had on, and dove into the water, a cloud of steam filling the air as her hot body contacts the water. She surfaced and sighed with absolute relief, her scales cooled by the colder temperature of the water. Not too cold, not too hot. She scrubbed herself clean, grooming her scales with her claws, getting the grime from underneath them. Cleaning the gunk from her tusks from Hotland. She heard a strange laughter from the shore, before she dove under again.

Swimming around, she noticed the glowing stones at the river bed. She smiles, picking them up, Knowing that she could craft them into something, after an afterthought. THough Rose colored magic is she hoped magic for the emotions and due to her monster nature, it tends to flare when passionate or strong emotions are felt. To learn to use them in the form of normal attacking, it would drain her substantially, if used too much, could put her in a sick state, in rare cases, death.

She swam back and forth from the shore, placing the rocks at the shore. After doing so, she stood completely out of the water, surrounded in a veil of rose magic. When she had come out of the magic, she had been transformed into a red outfit with a black layerable skirt and heels. The outfit was thin and allowed her to freely move. It also exposed her purple scales and some of her fins.

“Well! What do we have here?” Bax whipped around and she saw a golden flower staring at her.

Her expression darkened as growled and bared her tusks, “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare at someone bathing?” Bax chastised him for his perverted means of trying to interacting with her. Flower or not, it’s no excuse.

The flower grinned, “Guess what, I do not care,” earning himself a scoffin growl from Bax. “You’re new here, right?”

Bax refused to let her body stiffen at that question. “What’s it to you?”

“Just checking out who was in Mettaton’s current news broadcast about a strange ‘Show-stopping dance performance’ before Mettaton’s Headquarters.” The flower seemed tos shrug and then creepily smile. “Seems like things are going to get interesting.” The flower laughed until he heard someone heading their way.

“Oops, Got to go! Wouldn’t want to disturb your next moves.” He grinned before entering the ground once more.

She heard two pairs of footsteps. She stood just out of the path’s sight, and questioned the footsteps she heard, trying to determine who was coming, a skill she learned in Dust!tale. Know your enemy. Know who’s coming. Be repaired for the knife aiming for your back.

Undyne and Alphys came to the path, walking together, giggling and talking happily. Bax smiled happily. She always liked the two of them together. They balanced each other out. POlar oppposites, but they get along so well.

In and out a breath of air came, as Bax took a step into the Echo Flowers. Her gaze down, standing in the way of two of them. Undyne placed a hand in front of a Alphys, detecting her presence. It was a presence that didn’t seem from here, she had every reason to be on guard. She seemed to scan Bax up and down, trying to check for any stats.

When barely any answers came, Undyne scowled and aimed a spear at Bax, much to the protest of the lizard standing beside her. “Who are you? Don’t look like anyone I have seen before.” She aimed the spear directly where she thought Bax’s soul would be.

Bax lifted her gaze, revealing her face. Her pure white eye, a cloth covering her tusk. She inhaled and said, “Who am I? I am a shadow that observes and listens.” Knowing and learning. However...today is a different task.” Bax started to challenge them in a dance pose that Alphys seemed to recognized. Bax’s arms flowed into position, her fins now flaring and apparent. “My task today, is t make a statement.”

She danced in a animated hip-hop style, seemingly to the appeal of Alphys, as a challenge. Her hands glowed as a field appeared below them. Undyne started to growl before Alphys placed a hand on Undyne’s spear arm, lowering it. “Let me challenge you.” Her axe not leaving Bax’s. K-Pop/Hip Hop was her dance style, she wasn’t going to allow some wannabe anime fan try to show off.

Undyne started to protest, but a look from Alphys shut Undyne up in shock. Undyne stood to the side, and Alphys stepped onto the dance floor. Alphys stepped into her starting position.

A counter appeared above the two of them, showing their stats, energy and stamina levels, and their souls.

“Dancers ready!!” A few monsters came to watch the dance off, but Bax and Alphys focused their gaze on each other. A fiery passion behind their eyes. The fire of competition. “I won’t lose.” Alphys says, shocking Undyne into a grin. “Kick their ass, Alphys!”

The echo flowers turned to face the two dancers, almost by nature. The ground beneath both of their feet began to glow.

“3!

2!

1!

DANCE!”

THe echo flowers boomed their song choices. Alphys made her first move, shaky at first, but then become more smooth as she goes on. Each step she made the ground filled with light and glowed. Alphys grinned, Ashe had only practiced with no one else except Undyne. And her favorite anime. This will be nothing to her. Alphy posed and her turn ended, her stats responding to the effort of her first turn. Her soul started to glow and beat with anticipation.

Bax waited for her cue and she grinned as she started her upbeat dance, with a somewhat dark side, starting simple before becoming passionate, the ground glowing with each step, she grinned as she increased her speed. She laughed before spinning and taunting a little. End pose.

Alphys growled, “Okay they’re good. Let me step up my game.”

“DANCE SKILL INITIATED! ALPHYS.” Undyne joined the dance floor looking at Alphys, “Just like she practiced.” Undyne grinned before they posed they same.

Their style changed, darker and intense, while still remaining upbeat. They did stunts as Undyne backed up Alphys, adding to their resonating souls. They grinned.

Bax spun and taunted again, Alphys and Undyne retaliating with a strong stomp, generating a magical beam of light to glow to the sky. Undyne growls as they competitively took the dance floor.

Bax’s soul resonated strongly with the couple. Acknowledging their strength. Lost vs Found, who would win? Alphys’s timer soon ran out for her skill, and Undyne flipped off the floor.

Alphys danced like no one was watchhhing as Bax sassily fought back, before both sides, ran out of energy and stamina, before making their ending pose. Both of them panting hard and their souls beating in their ears.

“Dance End!”

“Winner is Alphys!”

Undyne and Alphys squeal as Undyne runs and picks up the stout lizard with joy, both of them laughing. “I told you you could do it! YA CREAMED THEM, BABE!” Undyne yells as they both laugh, Alphys still in disbelief. “Did I?” Alphys wondered.

Bax laughed and clapped her hands, the floor disappearing and the echo flowers returning to normal. The small crowd cheered before heading back off to do their business,

“Here’s your reward, Alphys.” Bax tossed Alphys the latest copy of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie. Alphys barely caught it as her eyes went big behind her glasses.

“h-How did you...?”

“Like I said. Observation.” Bax waved a farewell before jumping into the trees and escaping before they looked up again.

https://bax-the-hooman.tumblr.com/post/186987353650/baxtale-chapter-3-part-1

[bad0mens]

Title: Soup of the Day - Pt. 2

Pairings: Fluri

Warnings: Cafe AU. Superhero AU. Silliness.

Description: Flynn is having trouble accepting Yuri’s secondary occupation as a superhero in the city of Zaphias and that dangers that it brings. He decides to take matters into his own hands to try and keep him safe just as a new adversary appears on the scene.

Authors’ Notes: I FUCKIING completely forgot to mention that this was a direct follow up to Blue Plate Special!! So reading that one first is important.

Disclaimer: Tales of Vesperia is the property of Namco Bandai.

When Sodia said more reports in regards to the graffiti of 'HAVOC', she hadn't been lying. All over town, the word have been plastered on many buildings, along with a slew of crude drawings. May buildings had their alarms go off in the night, bit none had been broken into and nothing was missing. The only thing they had to one was 'HAVOC' and something about it left a bad taste in Flynn's mouth.

Another thing that had him trouble was the sheer amount of trouble he encountered on his beat. He and Sodia were sent to investigate and document nearly half of the almost one hundred reports of vandalism that appeared over night. Between that and regular incidents like a few drunk and disorderly, a smattering of car accidents, and the like, the work was running him ragged. He hardly realized that until later though.

The next day, even more strange happenings occurred. the graffiti was gone, clean walls and windows left instead. The day after that, it was back in full force, the word 'HAVOC' in red paint this time, scrawled over buildings and overpasses and on every police cruiser. More alarms had been set off over night. People all over town complained of strange noises and bizarre sights of strange lights and figures in the streets. It was a full on crime wave.

But nothing terribly serious was happening. Graffiti and setting off alarms without actually breaking and entering were misdemeanors at best. But the patterns seemed to be worsening. It wasn't going to be long before a felony was committed and Flynn wasn't about to let it come to that.

He looked over his desk. it was normally so tidy, everything in its place, but no longer. The dark, laminated surface was marred with streaks of red spray paint and the contents of his in box upended all over the place. Even with all the chaos and the tell tale marks of 'Havoc' all over the desk, there were two items that stood out, as if carefully placed. The big red arrows of paint pointing to them were pretty obvious, too. Someone was trying to leave him a message.

He sat and opened the filed. They were full, papers neatly stacked of phone records, bank transactions, complete biographies, finger prints, and the histories of two of the city's wealthiest citizens: Regaey, the CEO of R Gate Corp, and Barbos, President of Alliance Industries.

Flynn shuffled through the files, pictures and records and newspaper clippings. One of the clippings on Regaey in particular on caught his eye and he found himself fumbling for his reading glasses.

'R Gate Corp CEO opens private collection to public.'

The article was dated almost a year before and detailed the exhibit of Regaey's normally private art and artifact collection. It went on to detail some of the priceless painting and sculptures, but the most interesting item mentioned was a large gem that was featured.

"Amid the famous pieces, there's one particularly curious clear diamond with and strange and sordid history. Known as 'The Star of Aselia'...."

He fumbled for the second file, rifling through the articles and photos. He had a hunch and when he found the articles, he had a feeling he was right. It was a less impressive story, an interior article unlike R Gate Corps front page.

'World famous Calegia Diamond purchased in auction by President of Alliance Industries.'

There were still pieces of the puzzle missing, but he kept milling through the files. There had to be something he was overlooking. He wasn't sure how many time he examined the contents of the folders before frustration took over and he snapped them closed. There was no good reason why they had been left on his desk in the first place. He tossed them unceremoniously into his inbox and started to collect the rest of the contents that had been there only a day before.

He shuffled a stack of form, tapping their edges even, when a slip slid out of the bottom. A photograph to be specific, and Flynn knew very well the person in the photograph. Yeager of Leviathan's Claw was the most notorious black market arms dealer in Zaphias. Flynn had been involved in the incident of his arrest a few months prior, and now, taking a second look at the man, he was curious. He flipped open one of the files again and was stunned.

Flynn should have realized it before. Someone should have realized it before, but it gave him an idea.

The R Gate Corp building was all glass and steel, a monument to capitalism, shining even in the darkness of the night. The neon sign at the top washed the sky in a warm red glow and save for a few solitary office and the dimness of backup lights, the building was dark and empty. It hadn't been spared the graffiti onslaught, the word 'Havoc' scrawled on every floor alongside the pictographs. Compared to others, this one seemed particularly singled out for the mess.

Flynn kept crouched behind a row of garbage dumpsters, the glass and gilded entrance within his sight. He had already been here an hour and a half, watching the employees file out and waiting and watching for any clue of his hunch.

He had worked stakeouts before, long and silent ones, but something about being here in his White Knight armor made this particularly thrilling. This was different and he could see what Yuri liked about this. But after an hour and a half of this, his legs were starting to hurt, a dull ache creeping up into his core. He didn't dare shift and give away his position, just in case someone would be lurking nearby.

It was another half hour before the ache was unbearable and he shifted just an inch. Settling back in, he heard the rattle of a can across pavement behind him.

Frozen fast a second, waiting for any further indication of movement, he held his breath. The can rattled again, as if kicked this time and rolled past him, footsteps following. Flynn finally turned his head just enough to peek out between the dumpsters.

Slinking down the street were a pair of Red Eyes, walking as casually as you please. The first kicked the can again.

"Man, cut it out. The Boss'll be pissed if you make too much noise."

"Are you telling me to 'can' it?"

The second hit the first with an elbow to his stomach.

"Where the hell are the others?"

"I dunno, but this gig is easy. This boss doesn't ask too much of us. Man, I hope Zagi doesn't get out any time soon. I sorta like working for Havoc."

"I know what you mean, dude. Not getting beaten up all the time, etc. Shouldn't they have been here by now?"

"I'm sure they're hanging around."

"I swear to god--"

A sudden, sharp sound cut the otherwise silent streets, and both Red Eyes stopped, raising their eyes. A split second later, they were rushing off down the street, swift and silent.

The R Gate building seemed to be their target. They deftly opened the door and scurried inside. Flynn wanted to go after them, but as two more descended from seemingly no where, he was left outnumbered and reminded himself that he had only come with the intention of watching. He needed to think all this through and observe before acting rashly. Besides, he still had no idea who was behind the scenes. The Red Eyes weren't working of their own accord and Zagi was definitely still in prison.

But he crept closer, quietly, to get a better look. The new pair went to work on the exterior of the building, scaling the walls and adding layers of paint. While they were at work, the other two returned, arms heavy laden with boxes. They stopped, staring up at the roof of the building that Flynn was crouched in the shadow of.

"This it, Boss?"

There was only silence. Flynn moved forward, squirming between the brick walls and the dumpster. If their leader was here, he wanted to chance a look at them. Even the slightest hint at their identity could be enough to tip the scales in his favor, and that would make all the difference. He couldn't rush into this.

He finally managed to get a view of the edge of the building between two dumpsters. The moon was just starting to come over the roof of the building, casting the figure that stood there in silhouette. The moon left an edge, glittering white around the figure otherwise clad in layers of darkness. The form was tall and lean, soft curves and sharp edges, but not feminine. One pale hand swept out, lines and the jagged edge of a sleeve illuminated by moonlight. At its slightest movements, the Red Eyes were on the move once more, but Flynn did not see them go. His sight was fixed on the dark mastermind, eyes groping through the darkness for the barest edge or defining shape that would give him the slightest clue about this person's identity.

The figure turned slightly, baring the edge of a cheek, the glimmer of dark eyes through the slits of a white mask, eyes that were just as fixed on him as he was on them. The line of a pair of lips, drawn into a tight, thin smirk, and those eyes told him that he had been spotted.

Flynn fumbled for his sword. Either this person, or the Red Eyes, would be on him any moment, but as he drew the blade and looked back, the figure was gone and Flynn was left alone and highly unnerved.

When nothing further happened, he firmly decided that his reconnaissance was done for the night.

"What the absolute fuck is going on there?" Yuri's voice buzzed through the speaker of Flynn's cellphone. His tone was much calmer than his words intended, but the tone was what caught him. Flynn was still shaken from the events the night before, and the pair of eyes in the dark that were fixed on him.

"It looks like the Red Eyes are still up to no good, but it's all been minor offenses at this point. The police will handle it." It wasn't a complete lie, but he couldn't tell Yuri what he had been doing.

Yuri groaned, a sound that Flynn barely heard over the facet pouring water into his sink. The sound, although displeased, surged in Flynn's nerves and he was coldly reminded of the distance between them.

"Man, those freaks even got the Comet. Judy said they pray painted 'Havoc' on a bunch of stuff and raided the pantry. One more mess to clean up when I get back."

"Wait." Flynn hadn't gotten a report regarding the Comet and that was the one he should have. It was part of his regular beat. "Even the Comet?"

"Yeah. Zagi and I had a sort of standing truce that we wouldn't attack each others places, but it looks like who ever the Red Eyes are working for now doesn't care so much for decorum like that."

"So how's your trip going?" He had to change the subject before he burst out with what he knew, that he had seen' Havoc' or at least who he suspected was the person, and had seen the Red Eyes in the act and was still keeping at what he sure Yuri was still upset about.

"You wouldn't  believe what they're asking for the machine I want. It's ridiculous."

"How much?"

"Way more than I brought with me."

"Do you need--” "No. I'm taking a look at a going out of business sale tomorrow. If that doesn't work out, I've got a little more in savings that I can pull if I have to."

Flynn sighed a little, hoping the speaker didn't catch it. Yuri refused his help all the time, so it should come as no surprise to him, but that didn't mean that it wasn't frustrating. "Okay. Please call me if you need anything."

"Don't worry so much."

"I miss you."

"Yeah yeah. I'll be back the day after tomorrow."

"Stay safe okay?"

"Flynn." The seriousness in Yuri's voice shocked him into nearly dropping the plate he had been washing.

"What is it?"

"Just-- it's nothing."

"What--"

"Bye."

The sharp noise that cut off the call was Yuri closing his cell phone abruptly, the way he did after arguments or while in a rush.

Flynn was left to finish the dishes without the pleasant distraction of his boyfriend's voice. Yuri had only been out of town for a few days, but it felt like a lot longer. His days off weren't the same, and his apartment felt strangely barren. It had been for a while now, whether or not Yuri was in town. The only thing that changed that feeling of hollowness was Yuri himself. Flynn had been thinking on what more could be done about that, but there was one option and he wasn't sure that they were ready for that just yet.

Yuri and Flynn had only been dating for a few months and the prospect of moving in together was sudden and jarring when the idea hit him. On top of that, Yuri had a twin sister and a younger brother that he took care of and he might not be interested in moving out. It wasn't something he wanted to worry about now. There was too much else going on.

He took a break from the chores. It was getting late and he wanted to get a nap in before going on for dinner and then on his knightly patrols.

Flynn caught himself laughing about that mental slip harder than he should have been. Listening to the Red Eyes crack puns had apparently rubbed off on him and he was left chuckling further.

He and Yuri were both 'Knights' after all, both filled with the duty to protect their city. He left further thoughts on the subject alone, lest the images in his head start to look like something out of one of his mother's romance novels that Flynn had uncomfortable memories of.

Flynn took a brief doze on the couch and woke as the sun was setting and he was left missing Yuri even more. Even still, he got up and went to the Comet for dinner. Not only was he hungry, but more importantly, he waited to check and see how Judith and Karol were doing. The cafe was quiet, but there was plenty of evidence of the misdeeds that Yuri had told him about. The windows has all be painted over with the scrawling word 'Havoc' and the pictographs from before. These were nothing new or particularly revealing however. It didn't set well with him that someone had defiled this place that he loved, that Yuri loved. It was down right sickening, and even more sickening that Flynn hadn't been able to put a stop to it yet. Maybe tonight would yield more clues.

"Good evening, Officer," Judith said with a smile. He wondered if she had any evidence on the 'Havoc' situation. He had seen her out on her own patrol a few times, but unlike Yuri, she never confronted him or openly insisted that he stop the work he was doing as 'White Knight'. Her indifference was somewhat welcome, but also worrying.

"Hello. How have things been here?" It felt a little silly asking that, as he had been here only days before. A lot of things had changed in a few days time, though.

"Quite busy. All this clean up work to do and I'm still missing a pair of hands."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, thank you. Yuri has told me about your cooking attempts and I intend to keep all of my customers alive." She smiled sharply, and Flynn could see the family resemblance.

He tried to laugh that off, but something about Judith's demeanor was unsettling, so he moved to a different subject. "Yuri told me that you've been having some trouble."

"Oh my, yes. All that pesky spray paint making our cafe look grungy and then all our food going missing. Troublesome indeed, but nothing I can't handle. You want the usual?"

"Missing?"

"I'm sure it's nothing to be concerned about. I'll be back in just a moment. It looks like its time to pull the bread out of the freezer." She turned and left him at the counter.

The paint on the windows and the mess here only drove his desire to stop this crime spree harder. Evidence was piling up, but it was going slowly and Flynn's reconnaissance as White Knight was adding to that. The connections between R Gate Corp and Alliance Industries and the two strange gems and the old sword were still leads to follow, leads that he was following, and had made some realizations on. He was waiting on a call back from Rita to confirm or deny his suspicions. Finger print processing was a time consuming and delicate procedure and DNA even more so, but if they would give him the edge he needed, then forensic science was his ally.

"Oh my." Judith's calm voice exclaimed, abbreviated by the sound of glass breaking from the kitchen. "Now look what you made me do."

"Don't test me, Lady."

Flynn knew that voice, a long, low sound that pitched in odd places and he found himself rushing around the counter toward the kitchen and the voices. He cleared the kitchen's swinging door to find Judith, her hands on her hips, back to him, and in front of her, the familiar face of one of the masked Red Eyes. The blade on his arm was jutting out, sharp menacing steel.

"Judith!"

The Red Eye spotted him, grabbing Judith and holding the blade to her throat before Flynn could draw his gun. Flynn froze, stone stiff, pointing the pistol at the Red Eye who pressed ever closer to Judith, holding one of her arms behind her back and making himself a shield of her.

"Let her go."

"What are you gonna do? Shoot me?"

Flynn couldn't while she was in the line of fire and the Red Eye knew that.

"Whatever man. She's not the one I want anyway." He held her firmly still.

"What do you want?" Flynn asked.

"You're White Knight. The boss wants to meet you."

"What? Why?" He didn't loosen the grip on the gun inspire of his surprise.

"For tea or whatever. Hell if I know. All I  was told was to give you this." The Red Eye pulled a black enveloped out of his coat, holding it in the air.

"What is it?"

"I don't go reading other people's mail." That snark was getting really old really fast.

With a flick of his wrist, the Red Eye sent the envelope cutting through the air, and Flynn caught it while still keeping the gun trained on him.

"See you, suckers."

A flash of light and smoke and the Red Eye was gone, leaving only Judith and Flynn standing in the kitchen, coughing as the air cleared. He still moved forward and quickly determined that the intruder was gone.

"Are you all right?" He holstered his firearm and checked on Judith.

"Yes. His grip was rather weak. He could use some strength training." She brushed herself off and smiled like she hadn't just been assaulted in her own business. "But what's that you've got there?"

"I'm not sure." Flynn turned the envelope over in his hands, its black paper surface free of decoration or writing. He wiggled a finger under the flap and popped it open. Inside, there was a black paper card, the front decorated with a silver,scrolling border around a note. He read it aloud.

'White Knight,

If you care for the safety of True Knight and this city, you will meet me at midnight at the abandoned construction site on the corner of Palmacoasta and Flanoir. Come alone.'

-Havoc.'

"Oh my. A personal invitation from this strange 'Havoc'." She turned to him, tapping the apple of her cheek with one finger. "Do you plan on going? It could be a trap."

That thought had crossed Flynn's mind, but it was only in consideration. If that warning was to be believed, Flynn didn't have much of a choice. "It looks like it's my only option." Especially not with the prospects of Yuri and the city being in danger if he didn't.

"I see. Well, the least I can do it get you diner." She bustled back out of the kitchen and he followed her into the cafe's dining area.

Speedily, she put together the special for him and sent him on his way with a wish for good luck.

It would be a lie to say that he wasn't nervous. Food hadn't helped. Bread and cheese, meat and soup all twisted up in his insides.

Flynn suited up, strapping his word to his let and his gun just below it, hidden up a plate of his armor. It was a 'just in case' precaution, right along with the handcuffs and police radio. He was going to put a stop to 'Havoc' tonight. Once he had him captured, he could call the police and that would be one less menace on the streets for them to deal with.

He took to the streets, giving himself plenty of time to traverse the back alleys to get to the location on the black card. The construction site indicated had been abandoned a year earlier, after a series of accidents that cause the project to go over budget and the building was left half finished. It loomed in the distance, a stack of black frame work against the dark blue sky.

The ring of his cell phone cut the silence of his trek which had only been filled with the wash of ambient sounds of the city that Flynn had long ago grown used to. He answered without looking at it.

"Hello?"

"I've got those test results back." Rita's voice came tiredly through the speaker.

"What are the results?"

"Finger prints and DNA both came back for both of our suspects -- Where the hell are you? There's a lot of background noise."

"I'm walking home."

"Oh. Well, your hunch was right. The finger prints and DNA for that arms dealer Yeager and the Stormblast respectively match Regeay of R Gate Corp and Barbos of Alliance Industries. And some interesting records turned up this morning." The sound that came through next was the shuffle of papers before she spoke again. "Looks like Regeay and Barbos both took out insurance policies on their gems shortly before they were stolen. In fact, they've already collected millions in insurance money."

"Aren't Yeager and Stormblast still in prison?"

"They are, but the money went into off-shore accounts linked to the companies as mock trust funds it looks like."

"Anything new from Havoc??"

"All quiet on that front. If this is supposed to be some devastating crime wave of his, he's doing it wrong. The worst offense has been destruction of property."

The robberies were still unconnected to Havoc, but Flynn had a feeling that's where the trail led. He would know soon enough.

"Thanks for your hard work."

"Whatever." Rita hung up.

Flynn found himself before the fenced off construction site as he pocketed his phone. This was the moment he had been waiting for and so anxious over. He had to remind himself that this was no different from clearing a building during a raid, except that he had no way of knowing what might be waiting for him, or what could happen. But he had resolved to do this and here he was.

The gate was cracked open, unsurprising as he was expected. He cast his trained gaze over the half finished building, looking for the slightest sign of the Red Eyes or any other attacker. They were well hidden, but he pressed forward, hand on the grip of his sword and ready for the moment that he would need to draw it.

Across the dirt covered construction site ground and into the empty door way he strode, listening for the slightest sound beyond his boots against the concrete floor. The silence was endless, filling every corner of the hall and the empty rooms connected. He checked each one the way he was taught at the academy, but there was no one else. Even still, he had to be wary and ready for the trap to be sprung. He was at a disadvantage like this.

At the end of the hall was a lift and an arrow pointing up. No doubt the sign was for him, and no doubt, it was going to take him where he needed to go and probably right into the trap. He went anyway. He had no choice.

As soon as he crossed the barrier of the lift, it shuddered to a rocky start and began its ascent through the floors of steel beams and concrete floors and drywall. His sword was always just beneath his fingers as his eyes darted from one side of the open air lift to the other, watching and waiting for anyone who might try and use the element of surprise against him. But the lift stopped on the top floor without incident, opening to the floor with only a concrete floor. The roof allowed him to see the far stretches of the city, dark buildings and twinkling lights. The moon above made the concrete floor white, a soft lit plane with a single black center, the shadow of a figure and a chair.

"I see you've accepted my invitation." The voice from the figure was a velvet soft, smoky purr, enticing, but with carefully concealed claws.

"I wasn't given much of a choice," Flynn replied. "Havoc, I presume."

"Why yes. How astute of you."

With a kick of his leg, the figure spun in the chair and Flynn was able to get a very good look at the person he had only seen once before while rimmed in a moonlight glow.

Havoc was a tall, lean man, slumped in the chair with an ease and confidence, his legs crossed and pale hands steepled before him. A mask of sharp, slick white covered his face from above the line of his hair to the edge of his nose, with only thin slits to reveal his dark eyes. Equally dark hair cascaded down his shoulders, long black waves that blended with the shadows of his costume. Layers of darkness, edged sharp in feathers and shimmering like stars in moonlight clad him, and as he stood, a long mantle trailed behind him, glittering starlight black and feathered further.

"And you are White Knight. Or more accurately, Office Flynn Scifo of the Third Precinct."

"How do you know that?" He was just as astounded by this man's appearance as he was by his presence and knowledge. The air between them was heavy like the weight of salt water, like gravity increased and each step Havoc made forward made the pressure worsen.

"You are, perhaps, not as covert as you would like to believe."

"What did you mean by that note? Have you done something to Y- True Knight?" Flynn drew his sword, holding it at a ready stance.

"Not yet."

"What--"

in a flash, Havoc was before him, one pale hand curled around the blade of Flynn's sword and Flynn was frozen in astonishment.

"Interesting. What sort of 'knight' carries a blunted blade?" He smirked, but turned away with a flick of his cape before Flynn could reply. "But I'm sure that the real question is why I asked you to come here."

"For what purpose?"

"I've seen you around. I've seen your work. You're strong. You're devoted. And I have a proposition for you." Havoc tilted his head to look at Flynn over his shoulder.

"I'm not sure that I want to hear a proposition from a villain."

"A villain? Hmm. I suppose if you should choose to see me that way, I cannot argue. But the world will always vilify those who are different. The dreamers, the revolutionaries. You only want what's best for this city, is that not so?"

"Of course it it. It's my dream and True Knight's also."

"It is mine as well, but this city stagnant. I think it needs a push in the right direction..."

"What do you--"

"People like you and True Knight are only holding Zaphias back, only paving the way for continued mayhem and stagnation. However, I have the power to change all that." Havoc turned sharply, the sound of his mantle whipping behind him like the flight of a million crows. His dark eyes were burning brightly. "Join me, White Knight, and I will give you that power as well."

Flynn didn't have to wait before the words he needed were ready. There was no need to think about it. "No."

"Oh, you didn't even consider it. Hear me out. Listen to what I'm offering you." He approached once more, a confident and enthralling stride. "A position of power, untold riches, strength beyond your wildest dreams. All that you ask for and more."

Flynn froze as those pale hands came up to caress his cheeks. Havoc leaned close, the gap between them quickly disappearing and leaving only warmth as he pressed against Flynn.

"Pledge your devotion to me and I am yours." The mouth kissed him without further warning, a motion so smooth and so burning hot that he had to break away or drown in its flames as he was consumed by his own. He forced Havoc back a step.

"I'll never going to help you! My heart is only for True Knight!"

"How disgustingly romantic." Havoc sneered. "You should have accepted my gracious offer when you had the chance. Maybe my Eternal Sword will change your mind."

The scrape of a sword's blade against a metal scabbard forced a chill up his spin, but the blade itself even more so.

It was a long sword, its blade glowing white like moonlight, edged in the darkness of the night. The swirl of air around it was like the howling of a thousand hell hounds. At its center, a pair of large gems were embedded in the hilt, pulsing blue and green. He knew those stones, and the sword suddenly as well. The Stars of Aselia and Calegia Diamond and the long sword from the museum.

"Isn't it beautiful! To think the Red Eyes had no idea what they had gotten their hands on. Only I know the true value on this blade, and only I can harness its true power."

By the time Flynn got his sword up to defend himself, Havoc was already only inches from him with the blade, chopping away. Tripping backwards, he managed to dodge, although all the blows came uncomfortably close to hitting him. He staggered to catch his step, but Havoc shoved him backward, the howling sword whizzing by his ear.

When pressed back against the lift doors, he rolled aside to evade just in the nick of time, a thrust that ripped through the metal as if it were only air. He hoped to have a moment to formulate a plan while Havoc freed the blade, but there wasn't a pause at all in his attack. He spun to face Flynn and advanced once more, leaving Flynn at an even bigger disadvantage. He was not skilled enough with a sword to be facing an adversary of such grace and power.

Havoc was vicious in his pursuit, his offense so perfect that Flynn could only flee and defend and even that was a struggle. He didn't know that it was about to get worse.

The moment that Havoc didn't pursue, Flynn was simultaneously glad and worried. He took a moment to try and reassess the situation, to take a breath, but as soon as Havoc raised the blade, and its glow grew, he knew that he was in for trouble.

"With this, no one will stand in my way. Not you, not the police, not True Knight! No one will stop me!"

The glow of the blade pulsed, the weight of it crushing Flynn and stealing his strength. He fought to keep on his feet, for even just the ability to hold his own sword, but it slipped from his hand and he was forced to take a knee.

Havoc lowered the sword and approached. "Ready to reconsider my offer?"

"N-Never...."

"Why struggle any longer?"

"Because I can't let True Knight down."

"Hm. Perhaps I have an offer that would suit someone of your tenacity better." He didn't give Flynn a chance to deny him this time. "Stop gallivanting around as White Knight, and I will never bother this city again. All the damage I've done will be undone and things will go on as if I was never here."

Flynn weighed the decision with due heaviness. To be fair, he wasn't much of a super hero, and if all it took to stop Havoc was to stop being a super hero, he owed that to the city. He knew what the right answered was, and licked his dry lips right before the word came out.

"I have your word?"

"My very solemn vow." Those dark eyes were fixed on him. He didn't want to believe a villain, but if there was no further choice, what else could he do?

"I... I agree. I will cease being White Knight for the sake of Zaphias."

"Do I have your word?"

"Yes."

"Do you promise?"

"I said yes."

"All right then. I don't need this anymore."

To Flynn's surprise, Havoc pulled the gems free of the sword's hilt, and shattered them against the concrete floor. As soon as they were removed, the glow fizzled out and disappeared, and the blade returned to normal, a dull and unadorned museum piece. Havoc then threw the sword at Flynn's feet.

"Well, that's over with." He was still smirking, and for the life of him, Flynn couldn't figure out why, but something about it was infuriating. "Aw man, your face was priceless."

Flynn scrambled to his feet, anger rising against his neck. "What are you talking about?"

"You still don't get it?!" Another round of laughter followed and the heat pooled further in his face.

Havoc took a step forward, tilting his head up slightly.

"I suppose there's no harm in you knowing now. Unmask me."

Before Flynn had time to think, his fingers were on the edge of the white mask, yanking the knotted ribbon that held it on loose. From beneath the mask, Yuri was looking back at him, that terrible, incorrigible smirk still playing on his lips.

"Peekaboo."

"Y-Yuri!"

"Yeah, who else?"

"But--you--wait. Why?"

"You dumb ass. I told you. You've got your job to do and I've got mine." Yuri pulled the mask out of the Flynn's hands and tossed it aside. It clattered to the floor beside the sword. Yuri tangled his arms around Flynn's neck,  leaning close to him. "You promised and I'm holding you to it."

The anger didn't fade, but he kept it calmly controlled. Yuri's method had been ridiculous and drawn on way too long, but as least his reason had been a good one. He would be fully angry about it later on, once he stopped being so stunned.

"So how did you--?"

"It's a pretty long story, but Judy and the Red-Eyes helped."

"You owe me a better explanation than that."

"Whatever." Yuri kissed him and the ache that filled Flynn was a reminder of just how much he missed that touch, and others.

Flynn broke the kiss to breath, his hands finding the dip of Yuri's back beneath the layers of silken fabric and feathers. "I've got to say. I love the True Knight outfit, but this one...."

Yuri's smile broadened, sultry and hungry as he tilted against Flynn. "How about helping me out of it?"

[hedgiwithapen]

Day three: Rescue

Written for ScholsenWeek2017 and for @starklinqs

Pairing: James Olsen x Winn Schott Jr.

Summary: Being the ally of a superhero is dangerous. Winn already knew that, but his forward preparedness and planning isn’t much help when he is taken as bait for Guardian.

There were times that Winn missed the little headquarters he’d set up in an unused CatCo office, back when he, James, and Kara had been more of team. It hadn’t started out as much, but a spruced up coffee pot that had been tossed because it was “broken” and a couple computers, some more comfortable chairs and a few of James’s prints on the wall had fixed that. Heck, it had been nicer in some respects than his apartment, even without things like windows. And the whole “technically we’re not supposed to be using this we could all get arrested” thing. But he missed it, not just for the camaraderie, but because it was a lot bigger than the van he was currently sitting in, keeping an eye on security cameras and hitting buttons in hopes of fixing whatever had caused the comlink to fizzle out as soon as James--Guardian--had gotten a couple hundred yards away.  Probably interference from the buildings, but still, not terribly comforting.

 Static hummed and fussed, and Winn was just this side of leaving the van--the one thing he’d sworn never to do again--to call him back. Just because there was nothing on the cameras didn’t mean James didn’t need backup. They’d learned that the hard way the very first time they’d teamed up, and Maxwell Lord’s goons had gotten the drop on James. Granted, they’d had practice since then, but still.

 Unfortunately, that was when the van gave a shudder, and the door was yanked open from the outside. Winn didn’t even have time to try to remember if he’d locked it before the intruder rushed him, jabbing the prongs of a taser into his neck.

 Winn woke, cramped and aching. He supposed that was better than waking up dead. If you could wake up dead. He really wasn’t sure how that worked and, now more than ever, was determined to not find out any time soon. As he tried to take stock of himself without opening his eyes--his eyelids felt so heavy--he told the little sing song voice in his head that he’d count his damn blessings if he hadn’t been tased and kidnapped. It sounded like Kara on a sugar high, and he was in no mood for lectures on gratitude from his subconscious. As he became more awake, everything hurt even worse.

 Opening his eyes did prove more productive than stretching or asking where he was. As he came to full awareness (faster than most mornings, but that was what being abducted instead of waking up in his own cozy bed did) he found that he was sitting, which explained part of the ache in his neck, and his hands had been bound behind him. It felt like tape, which was just plain rude. Alex and James, plus the internet, had been teaching him how to pick locks and he could get most handcuffs now, and Zipties were easier. Layers and layers of tape were significantly more pesky, especially since his captors hadn’t left him his keys, or his multi-tool, or anything else he could use. The safety pin he kept as a lockpick in his shirtsleeve was not likely to help, all that forward planning for nothing.

 He hadn’t been gagged, but as the facade of control slipped away, Winn felt like he couldn’t get enough air, panting hard and trying to calm down. The room was dim, not dark, but not well lit. He was alone, and he was scared. Kidnapped is better than dead kidnapped is better than dead calm--. His eyes adjusted quickly, he’d always been good with that. Probably all the late night videogames, which see they did give me Useful Life Skills after all take that Mr. Christophe. It was almost a comforting thought. The triumph only lasted a few seconds. There really wasn’t much too see. Concrete walls, stained with that he thought was probably--hopefully--mold. A pile of half-broken furniture, wooden desks and chairs, some metal in there too. It seemed likely his chair had been yanked from the pile. Cautiously he wobbled it, and yeah, one leg was much shorter than the others. He could use that. If he could break the chair, he could make a run for it. He couldn’t see the door, he guessed it was behind him. No windows, just the single humming fluorescent light behind him. Maybe a window, he couldn’t tell.  

 The floor was cold, seeping through his socks because the jerk with the taser or someone helping him had taken his sneakers. Rude.  Winn shuffled and scooted and wobbled, suddenly dizzy, until he could get the chair turned around more. There was the door, beside a stack of cardboard boxes that sagged with age.

 Breathe in--one--two--three--four--out--two--three-four--in-in-two--three---four. Winn had thought a lot about situations like this after the cluster with his dad, and then throwing in his lot with the DEO and honestly just being friends with superheroes was trouble, so he’d tried to prepare. Staying calm was important. Escaping was next, though he wasn’t sure where he was, exactly. Or who’d taken him. Or why.  All important things.

 “Ok,” he said to himself in a whisper, his voice strangely flat in his ears. “You got this.” Maybe if he could rock onto his feet, he could slam the chair into the wall? Hopefully without damaging his hands too much. Scooting was one thing. Actually lifting the chair was not nearly as easy as movies and video games made it look.

 “If I get out of this, I’m going to the gym,” he muttered, then shook his head. “When. When, Winn.” Even if he couldn’t escape by himself, he’d be fine. Kara would--wait. Supergirl was  on another earth dealing with ...something. But she’d be back soon, and there was still the DEO. And James. He’d been fine. Having any of them in his corner was enough to ease his breathing.

 At least, it was until the door swung open. The two people who entered looked human, which didn’t exactly mean they were, but it. Winn fervently hoped that was the case. People tended to just have weapons. There was no telling when it came to aliens, and he really wasn’t in the mood to be poisoned or stabbed with shape-shifty-stabbies or anything else his tired and overexcited brain could come up with.

 “Mr. Scott,” one of them, who looked like he had half a foot and a hundred pounds on Winn, was holding Winn’s wallet.

 “Schott,” he corrected out of habit, then clamped his mouth shut so quickly he almost bit his tongue. Rule one was to not give these people any information. No matter what they were after, no matter how benign.  

 “Mr. Schott.” the other was, if possible, even taller, and loomed even more menacingly than J’onn did. “We’ve got some...questions for you.”

Winn swallowed hard, wincing at the soreness in his throat. “About what? I don’t think I can help unless you want to know cheat codes for the newest Grand Theft Mario Kart, but you can find those online without kidnap--” he saw the blow coming, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

 “Your friend,” Kidnapper #1 said. Winn blinked. He should have guessed, it was only a matter of time before someone made a grab for him to get information about Supergirl. Especially since she had rather publicly saved him back in January. He was pretty surprised it had taken so long, all things being what they were.

 Stay calm, stay calm, he shook his head. “Friend? You--you have a problem with...some nerd on the internet? I mean I know fandoms and stuff can get intense but this is a little--”

 He didn’t see that blow.

 “Your friend,” Kidnapper 2 continued. “Guardian.”

 Winn actually let out a laugh at that, more breathless than he would have prefered, more shocked than anything else. “What? Look, I think you’ve made some kind of mistake. For one thing, I don’t think vigilantes have friends. And if they did...not me.” Kara and James, in that order, had been his first in-real-life friends in quite literally years. How  hard could it be to play the part that had been reality all through high school and college? “I’m not so good at friends.”

 The first man, still holding his wallet, shook his head. “We’ve been watching. You know who he is.”

 “Nope,” Winn was a better liar than Kara, but not by too large a margin.

 “I will ask again. Answer me, and maybe you keep all your fingers.” the thug nodded to his partner, who pulled an alarmingly large knife from his belt. Winn felt the blood drain from his face.

 “Who is the man who calls himself Guardian?”

 College improv don’t fail me now. “ I don’t know, I’m trying to find out. I used to work for CatCo, ok? Up till the regime change and all, and I figured if I could get a really big scoop I could get my job back, but nothing, I swear. Can’t even get him to talk to me for ten seconds.” Behind him, he squeezed his hands into fists, terrified.

 The man in front of him blew air out his nose loud enough that Winn could hear it. “Check into it,” he ordered the other, and Winn felt the presence at his back move off as the man went circled him, heading for the stairs. His heart-rate did not calm down.

 “If what you say is true,” the remaining kidnapper said, “then you will have no problem with us looking through your phone, hmm?” he pulled it from his pocket, and Winn jolted. He was so close. Two seconds with it and he could alert Alex. Maybe it was a misappropriation of DEO resources, but he  didn’t particularly care about that.

 The man didn’t hand it over to be unlocked. “Neat little coding here. Why go back to CatCo, you could make a killing with this kind of thing. I know people would could use something like this.”

 “Generally people at CatCo don’t threaten to kill me,” Winn said without thinking. The man only laughed.

 “True enough. I’m glad you understand the severity of your situation. If you’ve lied to us, my partner and I will not be pleased. What’s the passcode?”

 Winn hesitated for a heartbeat, then wet his lips. “If I haven’t lied...you’re not going to let me go.”

 “Not here, not now. Can’t have a newsman warning  National City’s newest cape, giving the whole city our faces. But no point in killing you. Murder’s more time than kidnapping. Once we’re done, you’ll be free.”

 Not only was that not comforting, he also didn’t miss the emphasis on ‘you.’ They were going to kill James if they found him, or they were going to try. With a hostage, they’d fare a lot better.  Rock and a hard place.

 “The passcode, Mr. Scott.”

 “1405dcw64, and then the N with the little squiggle over it.” Winn said, looking at his lap. And James said it was overkill, having a backup password that only unlocked the phone and messages. At least his kidnappers would only get the bland basics, and not the little programs he’d been working on for the DEO. Not that he ever took classified information home...more than once or twice.  The downside was that the panic button, while accessable, was still out of his reach.

 “You weren’t lying,” the man commented, scrolling through something Winn couldn’t see. “You really do suck at friends.”

 Winn made a noncommittal noise. “If you’re looking for secret text messages from Guardian, you won’t find them, there aren’t any.” Because James still didn’t have a phone for that, he left it all to his man-in-the-van and earpiece.  

 “See, the problem with that is that we’ve got witnesses who will swear that your cute little van is always waiting not far from where he shows up. You must have some way of knowing where he is. An informant? Tech?“

 Winn was about to shake his head when his phone rang.

 “James,” the thug read off. “Who’s that, I wonder? Friend...boyfriend? Little late for a date.”

Winn flushed a little. It wasn’t that he’d never day-dreamed, but what with Lucy, and Kara, and his never-a-thing with Kara, and Siobhan and--no, their lives were way too chaotic as it was, and--

 The ringing stopped, then started again. “Persistent.” The man paused, as if thinking. “If he’s not your boyfriend, then he’s your informant.  And if he is your boyfriend…” he slugged Winn in the gut, knocking the wind from him, and answered the call. James’s voice echoed in the tiny room, even without speakerphone on.

 “Winn? Winn, where are you?” he sounded worried. Panicked, even.

“Mr. Schott’s a little busy right now, but tell you what, do me a little favor and I’ll make sure he gets home in one piece.”

“Who the hell are you? Where’s Winn?”

“Who I am really doesn’t matter, James. What I want, on the other hand…”

 Winn wheezed for breath. He’d never heard James sound quite this angry. Maybe once or twice. James. James could tell Alex and J’onn and Vasquez.

 “What do you want?” James demanded, voice still loud enough to be heard. “And I want to talk to him.”

“I want Guardian. Find him for me, I don’t care how.”

Whatever he said next was low enough Winn couldn’t make it out, but after a moment the man nodded uselessly and moved closer. “Describe anything you’ve seen, and you’ll regret it,” he said, jamming the phone against Winn’s ear.

“James?” he coughed, still trying to get his lungs working again.

“How badly are you hurt?” James asked, skipping the part where he assumed Winn was fine.

“Got all my fingers,” Winn offered.

“Sit tight, alright?”

Winn couldn’t. “They want to kill Guar--”

The phone was wrenched away.

“You’ve got until noon tomorrow. Or should I say today. Warn him, or call the cops or the feds or anybody, and Winn here never sees the light of day again.” Kidnapper #1 ended the call as Kidnapper #2 finally re-entered the room.

 “Buddy here told the truth. Worked for CatCo till about 4 months ago. Currently unemployed.”

“Better news,” his partner held up the phone, turning it off and tossing it to Mr. Knife. “We’ve got his informant--or one very highly motivated boyfriend--finding Guardian for us. Get that out of here. Just in case he’s an idiot and the cops try to trace it. I already got the number.”

 Winn hoped James had understood what he’d said, it wasn’t exactly subtle. Go to the DEO, get backup.

“You just sit tight,” the guy with the knife gave Winn a smirk that was not at all reassuring, then tramped back up the stairs. His partner paused, reaching for a roll of tape and winding it around Winn’s head to gag him, Winn tried to jerk away, unsuccessfully. Satisfied, the man followed the other up the stairs,  flicking off the light as he did.

 “I’m all for conserving energy,” Winn muttered against the gag, save the trees and shit but c’mon.

There was no response. Winn blinked against the dark. It would be ok. It had to be. James would ignore the stupid ‘don’t tell anyone’ threat and get the help and everything would be fine. Of course if these guys spotted the DEO agents or whoever could be spared to come to his rescue on short notice, well… medical benefits, on of the perks of the secret government agency. They could probably reattach his fingers. That was totally a thing. He was pretty sure. He tried desperately to keep his breathing even, but the tape made it difficult. Even with his nose clear, he felt like he was suffocating.

 Time passed, he wasn’t sure exactly how much. He’d never needed to rely on an internal clock, with his whole “never be more than two feet from tech” schtick. His head pounded, and his worry grew. His lungs didn’t want to work right. What if they tracked down James some other way? What if they figured it out? What if--

 Overhead, there was a heavy crash, muffled shouting. Winn tensed. That did not sound like a squad or two of DEO agents. It didn’t even sound like a couple cops convinced to check into a report. There was a gunshot, then two more in quick succession, sounds Winn had been perfectly happy not hearing in real life. He couldn’t hear what was going on, but doubted it was anything good. A man screamed in pain, following the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood.  Another gunshot, and then directly overhead, a reverberating thud.

 Sparks lit the darkness in front of Winn’s eyes, panic melding with not enough oxygen, though he remained conscious. There were heavy footsteps on the stairs, but strangely familiar. The light overhead was nearly blinding when it burst to life.

 Guardian’s dark armor, dented in a few places, fairly glowed as he cast aside the shield and hurried to Winn’s side.

“Winn, it’s ok. I got you.” he found the end of the tape, unwinding it as gently as he could, though Winn still winced. “I got you, they can’t hurt you.” James continued, using a multitool to free Winn’s hands. “Think you can stand?”

 “I--” Winn tried, his knees giving out on him. James shifted until he could offer better support, helping him to his feet. Even with the mask on, worry and relief radiated from his eyes. “What--”

 “I traced the phone call as soon as that dick answered. I’m sorry it took so long, I didn’t want them to see me coming, I’m so sorry, Winn.”

“It’s not your fault. Thank yo--wait. You came alone? But--” Winn swallowed, throat burning. “I tried to warn you, they wanted to kill you, they could have--”

 “I couldn’t go to J’onn, and take the risk they’d kill you. I couldn’t.” James said firmly. “Let’s get out of here.”

 Winn’s legs were steadier, now, through as they moved it became clear that however the fight had gone upstairs, James had not come out totally unscathed.

 “You’re hurt,” he managed, which was not creative but he was tired.

“It’s nothing,” James insisted as they avoided the absolute wreckage of the ground floor--some kind of old factory storehouse.

“It’s something,” Winn insisted, finally breathing clear when the reached the outside. The sky was light-tinted. Early morning. “My hero.” Oh, wow, cheesy much? Blame it on the headwound blame it on the trauma, play it cool, c’mon.

 “Well, you made me this shining armor. Had to put it to good use. Saving you’s the best thing--” James stopped short. Winn tilted his head, trying to get a look at James’s face, still obscured by the helmet. He could hear the smile in his voice, and smiled back.

 “Thank you,” Winn said again, trembling some, as the adrenaline that had flooded him to keep him alert faded.

“Always, Winn. Let’s get you to the Medbay,” James said as they reached a side street and the motorcycle. “And then maybe...dinner, sometime?”

 “Are you asking me on a date?” Winn blinked. “And does breakfast work, instead?”

 “Absolutely. And yes. Medbay first, though. Here, helmet.”

 Winn nodded, fingers fumbling with the helmet straps until it was on, then managed to scramble on to the back of the bike, clinging to James. Somehow, he had never felt safer than flying down the street at way over the speed limit. He was with James, they were both alive, and that was all he needed.

[kchatjjigae]

Stephanie would give you a reporting on her BTS experience but she’s  dead. Totes dead. Killed by Kpop. Time of death, Friday, March 24th, approximately 8.30 pm. She died happy. May God have mercy on her pervy noona soul.

After meeting up with all factions of the Kpop Nerd Herd, we gathered at a Biergarten outside the Prudential Center–because apparently, pregaming kpop is a thing. Also, get this! The doors to the concert actually opened at 5.30! Holy smokes. Usually, my biggest complaint to kpop concerts is the fact that they are still loading in guests way past the time when the concert is supposed to start causing us, even with seated tickets, to have to get there way early in order to make sure we don’t miss anything. This time, nope, we walked through the doors, right through security and directly to our seats, not a single line to be waited in. It was a close second part of the evening. (First part of course, being anything having to do with BTS.)

As we all bought out tickets separately, we were all seated in various areas in the arena. I was by myself in section 7. Turns out 7 was one of the better sections of the group, beaten out only by Alexis who lucked out with P1 with sound check. Alexis who got in line, with her tent and sleeping bag, at 3am. Gads! I’d say that was crazy, but she got close, really close. Close enough to have full on Alexis/Jungkook interaction. I’m dead? I’m guessing she’s probably headed to the plot next to me.

I get to my SEAT, last to fill in the row, seated next to a J-HOPE and a Rap Monster bias. Not a bad place to be. My seat was right at the corner of the stage extension. The crowd screamed their excitement with every change of the monitors with their music video rotation. You know, because we kpop fans have no chill. We are like the anti chill. Eternally grateful they either allowed my camera in or didn’t find it in my bag, as my phone battery situation was scary–could you imagine what a sad, sad fangirl I would be if I came out of that thing without photographic proof I was there? Nope. Hellz nope.

Soon (as I really slipped in just moments before the show started) the lights darkened and due to my corner seat, I could literally see that all that separated us from BTS was a thin curtain. Yes, me and my (Let’s just come out and admit it) hands down favorite band were in the same country, the same state, zip code, building, room, we were breathing the same air. It’s a heady experience.

Then the curtain was gone. And there they were. Thank goodness I did have the camera as my memory of the thing is a hazy mess of happiness, fangirl squeeeeing, and BTS sweat.

After a disastrous attempt at video-chatting the experience with the McFeeleys  (damn you, cell service at the Prudential Center!) It was just me and the boys…and like 13000 other screaming fans.

Now. I’m not one of those girls who like any sort of sneak peak of what’s going to happen at a concert.  I avoid set lists. I run and way from fan cams. I feel like the surprise is part of the experience. This one going in though, especially since several members of the herd went to both nights, there were some details I was unable to avoid.

From the escaped set list, I knew everyone did a solo from the Wings album. I wasn’t really looking forward to this as I haven’t really listened to the wings album and I am under the assumption that I don’t like them, preferring my BTS as a whole rather than pieces. I knew, from Regina, that the costumes were made from lots of velvet, lots of sparkles.

Hrmmm…. BTS in sparkles? In velvet? And finally, I learned that they had some sound issues the first night where the background music was louder than the voices, which I wanted to believe that they would have fixed the second night around. Second-night people! When possible, always choose night two. Wait. Unless this would make it harder for me to get tickets to night two in which case, woah, first night, first night is the bomb! Get ’em fresh! Jet lag is sexy!

So, that being said, they sang the first one, being awesome of course, but then, since I was trying to live chat, I missed a good portion of it. However. The next song? BLEW MY EVER LOVIN’ BTS FANGRRRL MIND. What was it? Bapsae! Gah! I love this song so much, and not only that but, though I’m not really a ‘ooh look at that dance’ person, I’m all, look at that dance! This is the one song I honestly didn’t think that they would play, and I was literally sad that I’d never get to see them perform that awesome song and adorable dance in person. But I was wrong!!! They played it. It was awesome. The only thing was I couldn’t decide between video and photo so I basically put both down and just jammed out. Screaming my head off of course, but still jamming. If only they’d played it on the extended stage, it would have been perfect.

Side note. Just lost a massive amount of post due to a faulty save draft button. Endeavoring to continue. Harumph.

So. Unlike other bands that had multiple stages ahemBigbangahem BTS actually spent a fair amount of time on both stages, which made me–and the Rap Monster bias next to me very happy. Every time we caught sight of that front stage trap door opening, it was arm thumping and squeeeeing. This was also good because of their lighting choices made it so that anytime they were on the back stage, all video evidence of them were just white glowing orbs of happiness and gyrations. 

Also, you’ll notice my photos are a little Rap Monster and J-HOPE heavy. This was not an artistic choice. Okay. So maybe it was a bit. I couldn’t help myself. However, in my defense, they did spend a great deal of time on my side of the stage. It was almost like they knew and wanted to hang out with me. Plus I was egged on by the realization that I would make some of the members of our crew very happy documenting a little J-Hope. I wasn’t wrong.

Now. As I mentioned before, I did actually know they would be performing their solo stuff, and I have to admit it, I’m not the hugest fan, even after seeing them performed live. They aren’t terrible, they just, to me, aren’t very memorable. Except maybe Hobi’s song? Was he the one who sang about his mom? Oh, and Rap Monster when we all shouted that we loved him because his song is about not loving himself or something? Maybe if I give the songs more of a listen I’ll come to appreciate them more. 

Another song I kind of wished I’d been prepared for? Because I kind of lost my shit? Cypher 4. Holy fudge guys. I always meant to write a post on this song as, though I refused to listen to Wings, I do have it on my phone and one day I was on the train, heard this mind-blowingly awesome song that immediately hooked me in–turns out it was Cypher 4.

Gah! I love this song. To see the rap line out there all sexy strutting and growls it was flat-out amazeballs. There is really no other word to describe it. The jackets they wore. The saunters. The interaction. Not kidding, if they ever decided to eventually do a rap line sub unit, I would be all in. 

We should now probably talk about their costumes. Regina was right. They were heavy on the velvet, heavy on the sparkles, which is just weird, isn’t it? Thinking of their past concepts? Comparing BTS image from now to the little wannabe thug bunnies they first debuted as? Even their solo stuff was bedazzled.

My favorites, of course, will have to be the long robes that the rap line wore for the Cypher, but also the red knitted outfits they wore when they first came to the front stage. Jimin in that oversized red sweater?

Although everything was so oversized and layered it looked a bit like the outfits were actually eating the band. But who can blame them? Nom, Nom, Nom baby. The costume that did not go over well? Hands down would have to be what the KPNH referred to as the pink pearled Jackie O jackets. Seriously? What were they thinking? Whoever came up with that concept should probably…not be allowed to do that again. 

The stages itself was pretty simple, no fuss, no big show, the most they had were a few rising pillars in the back

and what appeared to be a glass phone booth that Rap Monster went into at the end of his performance and…I want to say Taehyung came out of at the beginning of his?

Hoseok had a chair, Yoongi an upright piano, but all in all, it was pretty minimal. They did have some backup dancers, but they were fairly unnecessary, really it just distracted from the main event rather than added to it–with the exception of the time that they lifted Jimin–that was pretty freaking cool. Go Jimin, go.

I think it showed that you really you could just have a great performance be a great performance. It’s like when good singers use autotune. Why? It certainly doesn’t add anything. And why bother with the expense?

There was a fun thing that they did at the end with the light sticks. The venue handed out colored bags that you could put your light stick in (the JHope fan grabbed me one and told me I could just use it with my cell phone battery–I totally would have if I hadn’t already run out of battery.) They handed out each section a color, so that at the encore when they boys came out again, the stadium would be lit up like a rainbow. That was pretty nice.

Rap Monster talked about how all colors could enjoy their music–or something like that–I was pretty much a wreck at that point, so I may have missed his meaning. 

Hands down this was one of the best concerts I’ve been to. Not just because the guys were there performing their asses off, but also knowing that I was there with almost all of my friends (shout out Cherry Cordial! Have fun at your concert soon!) were there in the stadium with me.

Knowing we were all having the same experience, knowing how much each and every one of us love this band, knowing that after this we would all get together and talk and squeee and laugh over the whole thing? Yeah, that’s what pushed the night over the edge for me and I will really never, ever forget it. 

Sappy much?

Anywhoo–I took way too many photos and here is a gallery of just a fraction of them….

The Wings Tour Or How BTS Murdered The Fangirl Stephanie would give you a reporting on her BTS experience but she's  dead. Totes dead. Killed by Kpop.

[anycontentposter]

Lessons Learned After 250 Documentary Photography Assignments

Recently I hit a milestone in my photographer’s career: I’ve accomplished 250 paid assignments. It took me ten years and half a million frames to get there. I thought it’s a decent reason to reflect a little bit on what has been done and what the journey feels like.

The A-ha Moment

Just a few months ago I was on an assignment together with a seasoned fundraiser who has worked for many years with my pictures. One phrase she said became the most important insight of all my career: “Do you know that some of your images brought in up to a million dollars in donations?”

This struck me. For me, this became a justification of all my breakdowns, doubts, fears, struggles and sleepless nights after emotional shoots. When I decided to become a humanitarian photographer, I wanted my pictures to make a difference for real people, and it turns out, they do.

Ukraine, Nikolaev. Viktor is taking care of his bed-ridden spouse

After a few initial years in “pure” photojournalism at the dawn of my life in photography, I realized that no matter how striking a story published in a regular newspaper or magazine is, it serves an informing or entertaining goal but almost never becomes a call to action.

It’s the opposite with humanitarian organizations’ media: all their publications are aimed to make people want to do something about the cause. This makes a whole lot of sense for me.

What’s the Most Joyful Part?

As a documentary photographer, I don’t stage things, so I love when a scene surprises me with natural emotions, colors, lines, spots, rhymes, and rhythms. A lot of my photo shoots take place in small and dark flats of the former Soviet Union, where you don’t expect any visual surprises.

Even in that environment, daily life sometimes gains the potential to be perfectly framed, and a rectangle in front of my viewfinder obtains multiple meanings, multiple layers. When I see this happening, I get excited. My heart starts racing.

Moldova, Chishinau. A young volunteer celebrating Shabbat with an elderly client of a Jewish charity What’s the Hardest?

There’s a lot of bitterness in being a humanitarian photographer. The hardest photo shoot I’ve ever had so far was in war-torn Ukraine. I saw bombed residential buildings in Mariupol, which is my dad’s hometown.

I spoke to dozens of uprooted and desperate people. I saw a hospital near Slavyansk caught in a cross-fire with staff and patients inside. I remember taking pictures of this ruined hospital and whispering to myself: “Thank goodness I have a camera so I can concentrate on composition and exposure…”

Ruined hospital near Slavyansk, Ukraine

Walking into someone’s house, seeing terrible living conditions, and then leaving is hard. I always think: “I spent there an hour and I’m so depressed, and these people spend every day of their life there!”

Listening to the parents of disabled children is hard — to the point where I consider having healthy children a miracle. I’m scared to have more children now and I have a hard time trying to explain my fear to my wife.

A family with a disabled child from Moldova

Finding out about the passing of those whom I recently photographed is hard.

Running into the stories of social injustice, indifference, neglect is hard.

Sometimes, after a day of a shoot, I feel too lucky. Undeservedly lucky.

I always get home heartbroken. Nevertheless, I always head to each assignment inspired and excited. I know that I’m doing a meaningful job, this lets me stay on top of my breakdowns.

What Are the Pitfalls?

I think my personal pitfall is my willingness to lift too much weight: when I make stills, film video, conduct an interview and translate it in real-time, I often feel overwhelmed. I can’t afford failure at any of my tasks, so I allocate all my abilities to get everything done, and then by the evening, I reach a hotel like a walking dead.

Transnistria. Mr. Sigal, formerly a leader of a local Jewish community, now retired and blind Pieces of Advice

I have set a number of strict rules for myself years ago which up to now were never written down. A lot of them are pretty far from the business of photography itself, but following them saved me more than once as a photographer, business person, and human being:

1. Prior to the shoot, get into the mindset of making the best job you’ve ever done;

2. Dignity is the key. It’s often being said that no frame deserves a photographer’s life. For me the same goes for dignity: no frame deserves humiliating your subject. In humanitarian photography, we constantly deal with vulnerable people living through their hardest times. You don’t want to exploit them and their condition, even though you know that their tears in the frame will raise money for them.

On one of my first humanitarian photography assignments, I was asked by the local staff to not upset the clients. It was an unusual request. Turned out another photographer visited that place before me, and they intentionally made subjects cry for the sake of a “good picture”. Everyone who worked with me knows that I have a dignity rule in place and such a thing would never occur on my visit.

Moldova

Sometimes it’s appropriate to take a picture and sometimes absolutely not. How do you find out? Simply stay human, don’t turn yourself into a cynical picture-taking robot. After you leave, the subject should feel respected, taken care of, dignified, and not embarrassed, confused and upset.

Listen to your customers. Better don’t assume that you know what they are looking for when they send you on an assignment. It’s your job to make sure that you are on the same page. Getting into fine details of their requirements will help you understand the overall approach. The stakes are high in humanitarian photography: we are dealing with disaster relief, with helping people who rely heavily on humanitarian assistance; Find out everything beforehand about the people you’re going to meet; Write a list of equipment to take with you; Have basic medicines with you at all times. Running nose or a sudden onset of fever in the middle of a shoot day is the worst that can happen. It happened to me a lot, so I have a kit of strong medicines with me wherever I go. I also take a course of multivitamins before I set out to shoot in another corner of the world. Print out hard copies of all the essential information: contact details in the field, flights, hotels, local emergency numbers; Secure a local SIM card and local cash; This one is very important: every morning before leaving for a shoot, switch on every piece of equipment and make a test. I tend to do myself a favor and take a selfie as a test; Pay attention to clothes. I’m not good at dressing up fancy, but I do dress appropriately and neat. I need to feel comfortable in my clothes, however. My working day consists of car travels, fast freezing (or sweating) walks with gear on my shoulders, climbing up the stairs, working in hot and choking flats. I don’t want to sweat too much and to freeze too much, so proper dressing sometimes turns into a challenge. Look nice. My supervisor at the American Joint Jewish Distribution Committee (JDC) told me before my very first assignment: “Remember that for those whom you are filming you are the face of JDC, they don’t care whether you’re a freelancer or a staff member.” I’ve learned this and always keep it in mind. I tend to visit a hairdresser a few days before my assignment trips. Listen actively, but don’t produce any sounds. During a shoot or an interview stay in the moment, put aside all your other thoughts, even when you see your camera falling down from a desk (happened to me), even when something goes wrong with the equipment (happened, too). You don’t want to hassle with your camera in front of your subject. Have a backup camera ready, even if it’s a smartphone, and just keep rolling. Back up everything. Coming back to a hotel in the evening as walking dead, I know that there is a mandatory task awaiting me before I fall down senselessly on my bed: copy today’s files from the camera to the hard drive and then copy them to another hard drive. If I’m lucky enough to stay in a place with decent WiFi I also upload everything in a cloud. Dozens of people besides myself work hard to make these photo shoots happen, and repeating them is never an option. I keep this in mind. Don’t get lost in your deliverables. It’s all about a simple but cohesive and self-explanatory system of files and folders naming. Luckily I established this system from the very beginning, and now I easily find my pictures from ten years ago. When I import the pictures into Lightroom I also assign them with a few keywords, so whenever my clients need me to send them a selection like “Wintertime in Russia” I can provide it with ease. Labeling the best pictures in Lightroom also saves a lot of time in the long run. Lastly, an extremely important one: Be an accurate business person. That’s a whole large topic but essentially stay on top of accounting, contracts, and deadlines. Deliver more than expected, better than expected, faster than expected. I use Sprout Studio software for my business routine and exploit my natural passion and curiosity to get the pictures delivered very fast, in some cases even on the day of the shoot (photojournalistic background helps me here). Selfie in the hotel of Kramatorsk, Ukraine

Overall, regardless of all the hardships of the profession, I’m living my dream. I consciously went into the humanitarian photography field, and I’m aiming to learn more lessons that I promise to share after I’m done with my 500th assignment!

About the author: Arik Shraga is a photojournalist and documentary photographer based near Jerusalem, Israel. The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author. You can find more of his work and connect with him through his website and LinkedIn. This article was also published here.

Read more about this at petapixel.com

https://bestcamaccessories.com/lessons-learned-after-250-documentary-photography-assignments/